#last time i got quite a few hehe

[risingsunresistance]

ok now that that's done, i wanna play this game again

send me a number 1-447 and i'll give you the picture that corresponds with in my techno folder! OR send me a 🐖 and i'll let the bot pick for you

he might give you a bonus emote hehe

[sysig]

Eyyy the Friend Shapes inbox is clear again ✨

[sunnami]

you'd be the love of my life when i was young

summary: gryffindors wear their heart on their sleeve when they fall in love. slytherins keep their heart locked far away to keep it from breaking.

pairing: poly!marauders x reader (sirius x reader, remus x reader, lily x reader, and james x reader)

tags: slight angst, fluff, lucius malfoy, happy ending

note: i have a chemistry quiz due in 50 minutes but this takes priority. . . i haven't written in a while so forgive my rusty writing skills, they've only been let out from the basement today. not proofread, we die like the marauders. (title is taken from the song, 21 by gracie abrams, because that's roughly around the age jily die. hehe.)

They said when you fell in love with the right people, everything would fall in place after.

What a load of bullshit.

You had come to a conclusion one winter morning, laying in the Gryffindor common room dressed in your woolly, green jumper. You rested on the worn-out leather seat, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you stared at the ceiling, thinking about how it was going terribly wrong. How funny it was, that the 30th of December greeted you with an existential crisis instead of presents and hot chocolate. 

There was something quite wrong with you, you had noticed for the past few months. 

Every time Sirius Black smiled at you, showing off his pearly canines and the crinkles by his deep-grey eyes, you would experience a painful, tightening sensation in your chest — like someone was squeezing at your heart. Most people knew Sirius Black, the prankster, but you were lucky enough to know Sirius, the kind and spirited boy who had a heart that loved fiercely more than anyone you knew.

Cosy afternoons found you in the library with Remus Lupin, and a strange feeling would erupt in your stomach whenever Remus leaned down, and you’d catch a whiff of pine needles and fresh mint. Shaggy, blond hair falling over his eyes as he came to life, talking about your common love for muggle books. He made time feel like an illusion, minutes fading away into hours as the two of you shared stifled giggles, cheeks numb by the time you left the room. 

And James, oh James Potter. It was difficult to describe what you felt with him — but with James, the brightest colours in the world couldn’t even compare to him. James was like putting on a pair of brand-new eyeglasses and seeing everything clearly for the first time. And without a doubt, you knew that James would never let you get hurt. But these days, you were weak in the knees as you’d see him across the Great Hall, waving at you excitedly as he bellowed your name, and to come and sit next to them. 

Last, but certainly not the least, Lily Evans. Her sweet, airy voice was a warm hug on a cold day. And her actual hugs were second to none — don’t tell Sirius, however, he liked to shift into Padfoot to steal Lily’s title as the queen of cuddling. Lily flowers were delicate, she was anything but. The spitfire of Gryffindor, who would raise her chin and defy anyone who would harass you for hanging out with them. 

(“You’re our emotionally constipated Slytherin,” said Lily as she mushed your cheeks, cooing when you tried to glare at her, and the three boys guffawing in the background. They liked to tease you often, being a year younger than them.) 

Were you dying?

That was the only plausible explanation to your palpitating heart and rickety knees. 

No, it was definitely not because you had gone and fell in love with your best friends. 

That was absurd. 

You had tried venting to Lucius Malfoy once. Narcissa often doted on you, sneakily leaving treats on your desk before she left for her class, and fussing when you got sick — which was quite often. That meant, when you weren’t with the marauders, you were trailing after the Slytherin power couple, or Severus.

(Lucius curled his lips in disgust, Narcissa sipping tea by his side, failing at hiding her knowing smirk. “I am above such childish matters,” hissed Lucius, scowl deepening when Narcissa laughed heartily, looking happier than she had been since returning home for the holidays. “I do not know why you’d even think to come to me for this.”

You huffed. 

Maybe you’d try Severus next. 

Naturally, he stormed off the moment Lily’s name fell from your lips.

Your resident seventh-years were confusing.)

Fortunately, you were stripped from your thoughts when the entrance to the common room slammed open, the paintings clamouring as they were disturbed from their slumber. One by one, the marauders piled inside the room, a string of melodious laughter and boisterous conversations following their arrival. Hastily, you sat up, heart thudding against your ribcage. Silence, you wretched beast, you told it. Don’t let them see how I burn for them.  

“There you are!” Sirius came into view first, grinning widely as he crossed the room to reach you. “Who said you could be this pretty in the morning, love?” 

Ba-dump!

Sirius plopped down head first onto your lap, manoeuvring your hand to comb through his hair as he sighed in contentment. “Bloody hell,” He exhaled shakily, “Last night was the worst one we’ve ever been through.” 

Your fingers ghosted through the new scar etched across his sharp cheekbones — it was nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn’t fix, but you still didn’t like the sight of them bruised and wounded. Swiftly, Sirius grabbed your hand and intertwined your own with his. “I’m sorry,” You whispered. 

Sirius chuckled tiredly, tightening his hold on you, as though you were a tether that kept him afloat in his sea of nightmares. 

(And you were. If only you knew.)

“It’s not your fault,” said Sirius. 

Then, your eyes landed on Remus limping towards you, his bare skin littered with scrapes and marks, supported with an arm around James’s broad shoulders. He sent a toothy smile your way, despite the tired lines on his forehead and deep bags beneath his eyes. “Waited up all night for us, huh?”

“I just couldn’t sleep knowing you guys were out there,” You whispered sheepishly. “It’s too dangerous, what happens if something goes terribly wrong, and it costs you your life? We need to tell someone.” 

“Everyone who needs to know, already knows.” Remus bit down a pained expression as he sat by your side, head lolling on your shoulder. “This is the best we have for now.” 

You didn’t like it.

You didn’t like it at all.

Before you could reply, Remus turned his head, lips feathering against your exposed skin. His voice was low as he said, “‘Sides, it’s our job to worry about you, not the other way around.”

“Well, I apologize for interrupting your job,” You whispered back harshly, wondering if that was all you were to them, a younger friend they felt the need to look after. Oh, how mortifying that would be.

James chuckled from behind you, bending over the back of the couch, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, lingering for a few moments that felt like an eternity. “You’re too adorable,” said James, tweaking your nose. “Our angry, little Slytherin.” 

“I’m not little.” You glowered at him.

“Perhaps not.” James smiled cheekily. “But you’re ours.” 

Often times, you had wondered how the five of you came to be so tight-knit, knowing their disdain for most of the Slytherins. 

(Little did you know, you smiled at them once in Potions, and they were a goner.) 

Something stirred deep in your belly. 

You sucked in a breath. “Don’t say things like that, James.”

People could get the wrong idea.

You could get the wrong idea.

“Well, why not?” Lily appeared in your peripheral vision, the scent of blooming wildflowers and fresh rain filling the room. Like the three boys, her skin was sallow from lack of sleep, but her bare face and blinding grin left your heart racing. “It’s true, isn’t it?” 

It could be, just not in the way you wanted it to be true.

You sighed. “Class is going to start in a few hours, I should get going.” 

“Or,” James began wickedly, throwing a thick blanket onto the floor by the fireplace, and tossing a bunch of throw pillows at Sirius’s face. “We could have a sleepover right here.” 

“Sounds good to me,” said Lily merrily, stealing James’s blanket as she placed a pillow beneath her head. 

“I really have to go—” You reasoned pathetically.

“Stay,” whispered Sirius without even opening his eyes as he curled his lithe fingers around your wrist. “You being here makes us feel better.” 

They were too cruel, saying all these sweet words, not knowing how it drove knives through your heart. 

James yawned as he laid on the carpeted floor, hiking the blanket up to his shoulders as he threw a leg over Lily, pulling her close to his chest, nuzzling the crook of her neck. “D’you have your textbooks with you, love?” He asked you drowsily. 

“No,” You answered, any other words lodged in your throat. 

“That’s fine.” James hummed. “I’ll just get the cloak and sneak into the dungeons later to get the books for you.” 

“Sleep,” Remus urged you, unaware how you shivered at his words. 

“You can’t be comfortable like that,” You told him in disbelief, watching his neck bend at an angle to lay on your shoulder. 

“Trust me,” said Remus gently, eyelashes tickling your skin, “I’m right where I want to be.” 

You had grown silent for a few beats, unaware how Sirius’d opened his eyes, staring at your worried expression. 

(How could one person be so perfect, he wondered.)

“You alright, darling?” He reached out to trace the curve of your jaw with his thumb, the palm of his hand holding your face as though you were a pureblood’s antique treasure. (Mine, mine, mine, his heart screamed.)

But like the Slytherin you were, you lied as easily as you breathed.

“I’m fine.”

As you laid in between Remus and Sirius, watching the peaceful rise of Lily and James’s chests, you had come to a daunting realization. 

You were irrevocably and agonizingly in love with your best friends. 

And because fate liked to spit in your face, the four of them were already in a beautiful, committed relationship. 

Who were you to get in the way of that?

—

They would understand, you convinced yourself. 

They would understand that you had to stay away from them. You had to protect your heart and keep it safe. The marauders were a dangerous bunch, and they had played the biggest prank on you, and by Merlin, would you fall for this particular prank over and over again if it meant you could hear their voices and fall into their embrace. 

But you couldn’t stay. They would only crush your heart otherwise. 

If Gryffindors wore their heart on their sleeves when they fell in love, Slytherins protected theirs with every fibre of their being, locking it in a cage where no one else can have the power to break it. 

Like what any love-stricken teenager would do in the face of heartbreak, you began to ignore the objects of your affections — ignoring the way your soul called out to theirs. 

It wasn’t as obvious the first few days. You would escape their company under the ruse of studying for McGonagall and Flitwick’s practical tests. 

(“They’re notoriously difficult after all,” You told them, a nervous laugh accompanying your lie. Peter eyed you curiously, noticing small details the others could not see — your quivering lips, your nails digging into your palms, and the way your eyes wouldn’t meet any of theirs. “I just don’t want to fail.” 

You could have cried at the way James held the back of your head as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’ll do well, love. You always do.” 

“You can study with me, if you want,” Remus quickly offered. “I’m not as good as James in transfiguration, but I can definitely teach better than those two.” 

“Hey!” Sirius exclaimed in mock offence.

“Thanks, it’s sweet of you to offer,” You told them, shifting your weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. “But—”

“Say less, darling,” Lily interjected kindly, wrapping her scarf around your neck. She smiled at you, holding both your cheeks in her palms. “They’re the worst lot to study around, I know. Just don’t study too hard, okay? Take breaks, have a cup of tea now and then, and remember it’s okay to ask for help — don’t give me that face — if it gets too overwhelming, just ask. We’re here for you in every way you need us.” 

Oh.

You were well and truly screwed. 

“Thanks,” You croaked.)

But it was getting harder and harder to come up with excuses. 

(“Wotcher!” Sirius grinned, encasing you in a tight hug after bumping into you in the corridor. “Haven’t seen you in a while, busy bee. Fancy a lunch with us in Hogsmeade?” 

You scrunched your nose, red and bitten from the winter frost, stepping away from him and ignoring the way his face fell. “I. . . I can’t. I’ve got practice with the Frog Choir.”

Sirius shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “S’alright. I can wait and pick you up right after, then we’ll swing by that shop you really like—”

“I can’t, Sirius,” You interrupted harshly, wrapping your arms around your chest as your gaze dropped to the ground. “Sorry. I just. . . I’ll just catch you some other time.” 

Sirius flinched. “Sure, love. Other time, yeah?”

But only the wind replied.

Saturday came, and along with it was the long-awaited match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. James, decked out in his uniform, bounded over to you at the Slytherin’s side of the Great Hall, oblivious to the death glares some of your housemates had sent his way. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, lifting you from your seat. 

“It’s Quidditch day, pidge!” James tilted his head, awfully resembling a lost, confused puppy. “Why aren’t you dressed yet? It’s the game of games! Even Remus is announcing the game later.” 

You bit your lip before responding. “I’m not going, James.” 

“What?” He furrowed his brows. “Why not?” 

Ever since you had become friends with James Potter in your first year, you had never missed a single game of his. Except for the one time you had fallen sick during his match against Hufflepuff — and the moment he knew you were ill, the game ended in less than two minutes, by his sheer determination to get by your side quickly and make sure you weren’t alone. 

You sighed. “I don’t know, James, I’m just not feeling up to it today.”

It was a big, fat lie, and he knew it too. 

You didn’t go to his match later that day.

It was one of the biggest losses James had ever experienced — he wasn’t talking about Quidditch.)

Your housemates were beginning to realize was something was off as well. They might not be particularly fond of the Gryffindors that captured your heart, but they were fond of you, and they guarded their own. 

You had a stare-down with Regulus Black in the common room — and you weren’t about to lose — before he blinked and asked, “What did my brother do?”

“Nothing,” You replied, pretending to be engrossed with your herbology textbook. 

Severus rolled his eyes before plucking the book out of your hands. “Spit it out, woman. We’ve had to watch you mope around pathetically for days now. It’s irritating the rest of us.”

You sniffled. “Then just leave me alone! No one asked you to check up on me!” 

“Unfortunately, we can’t.” Severus took a seat beside Regulus. With a pained grimace, he said, “So you can. . . pour your heart out to us.” 

“I can’t.” You wailed. “I’m a Slytherin, we’re the worst at that.”

Regulus shrugged his shoulders. “It’s true. We’re hopeless.” 

“But,” He raised his wand, “We do speak in jinxes and curses.” 

“Don’t you dare!” You blubbered, wiping at your tears — but somehow, without having to express it in words, they understood, and you had felt lighter.

Still, you missed them. 

“This is pathetic.” Lucius enters the common room, Narcissa holding onto his arm, watching the scene before him with blank eyes. “Black, Snape, get out, you’re only making whatever this is, worse.”

Narcissa was by your side in an instant, dabbing at your wet eyes and cheeks with a handkerchief that cost more than your life. “Hush now, darling. What’s wrong, hm? Was it that idiot cousin of mine? Don’t worry, Lucius can tell his father, and we’ll have them begging at your feet by tomorrow.”

You cried louder. 

“I jest, I jest.” Narcissa softly chuckled, pulling your hair away from your face as she tugged you close. “Please tell us what’s wrong. It’s been awful seeing you like this for the past few days.”

Lucius sat on the loveseat across you, resting his feet atop the glass coffee table. “Yes, I beg you — do as she says, for the love of Merlin. But, really, what else did you expect, associating yourself with that ragtag of miscreants?”

Narcissa glared at him.

Lucius raised his arms in surrender. 

Narcissa clicked her tongue before returning her attention to you, eyes softening at your tear-stricken face. She smiled, albeit sadly, as she said, “Perhaps, I know what is wrong.” She gestured to the way you clutched at the front of your shirt. “It is the matters of the heart, is it not?” 

You nodded weakly. “I love them.”

“And they, you,” said Narcissa. “So, what is wrong?” 

“I love them!” You hiccuped.

“Unfortunately.” Lucius handed you a tissue. “The whole of Hogwarts knows this already, so I do not understand why you’re blowing snot all over my fiancé’s robes about it.” 

“They don’t feel the same way about me,” You confessed with a sob. 

Lucius stared at you incredulously. “Please do not tell me that you are this daft.” 

“What do you mean?” You asked him through narrowed, teary eyes, Narcissa rubbing the tips of your numb fingers from crying so much. 

“I did not sign up for this.” Lucius rubbed at his temples as he stood up. “I will only say this once, so make sure you are listening. Those Gryffindor idiots are so disastrously in love with one another — let me finish, damn you — and if you cannot see that they love you too, then it is your own fault. It physically pains me to see the way they smile when you are near. They would move the earth for you, and they would shake the heavens for you.” 

—

Gryffindors must have hearts made of steel, because you didn’t know how they could be so brave, to look fear right in the eyes and say: I’m ready. 

Because you surely weren’t. You were headed towards your usual spot in the courtyard by the clock tower, legs heavy and swell deep in your throat. Then, you found them, looking so achingly beautiful under the sunlight, huddled together for warmth as they smiled and laughed at lame puns and mistimed jokes. 

Did you have a place with them? 

You were about to find out.

“Hey,” You greeted once you were right in front of them. A month of evading them, and now you were here. It was like finding a piece of your soul that you had lost.

(For them, seeing you was like finally being able to breathe again.) 

“Hey,” said Lily, devoid of any warmth, and that broke you. 

Bravery was poison, you decided. A trap for weak-hearted fools like you. 

Sirius shot James a look before clenching his jaw. “No choir practice today? No study sessions with Cissa or Reg? Wait, no, I’ve got it. Slughorn’s dinner party? Or is it detention with McGonagall today? Does her highness finally feel up to talking to the peasants?”

You inhaled sharply. “Never mind. This was a bad idea.”

But this — is what you deserved. You had hurt them badly, so it was only right for them to stomp on your heart for everyone to see, just as you did to them many times this month. 

A sob tore from your lips as you swivelled on your heels, ready to flee the scene and never show your face to anyone else ever again. Yet, before you could leave, Remus clamped his hand over your wrist. 

“Why?” He stared at you, searching for anything that could explain your sudden behaviour. Remus looked at you with such emotion, tightly holding onto you — but never enough to hurt, because Remus could never be capable of hurting you. He’d die before he would ever cause you pain. 

 (You made him feel unafraid of the moon.) 

“Was. . . was it something I did?” Remus asked, laying his wounds bare for you to see. “Was it me?”

“I love you!” You shouted in the midst of panic — you had never wanted to cause Remus to doubt himself. Your loud declaration had caught the attention of some, but you stood on, curling your fists firmly. You needed to do this. 

“I love you.” You said once more, breathlessly, staring right into James’s eyes. Such a beautiful shade of hazel. “I love each one of you. And it. . . it hurts right here.” Tears dripped from your eyes to the side of your chin as you splayed your hand over where your heart rested. 

“Because you don’t feel the same.” 

The four of them simply gazed at you, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. 

You took that as confirmation for what you had been fearing all along. 

“And that’s okay if you don’t,” You snivelled, unable to see clearly with the streams of tears in your eyes. You thought of how Sirius melted at Lily’s touch and how Remus was the anchor to James’s wild streak. How they all complemented each other and fit perfectly like puzzle pieces. “Just give me a few months, and I’ll get over it. It’s a stupid crush anyway, it’s my fault. The four of you are perfect together, how could—”

“Shut up,” James hissed before cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss. Cherries and pumpkin pasties. He kissed you deeply once more before pressing his lips to your eyes, desperately washing away your tears with his devotion. “Was that it? We could have been doing this ages ago.”

“What?” You rasped, knees buckling at the weight of his gaze.

James only smiled, stealing your third kiss. 

Sirius pulled your hand, his arm encasing your waist as you stumbled to his chest. Like James, he kissed you fervently, like he wanted to chase off all your fears and doubts. His lips were warm against yours — firewhiskey. You wanted to be burnt by his flames again and again. He held you close, committing every inch to memory. 

(You were art that he wanted to worship.)

He kissed your forehead. “We love you, daft girl.”

He kissed both of your eyes, chuckling when a new wave of tears came. “We have loved you ever since you burnt my mother’s howler in fourth year, and gave us poorly-knitted sweaters for Christmas.” 

“I love you,” said Sirius. “As certain as the spring that arrives after winter, I love you.” 

You snuffled. “I. . . I don’t understand.” 

Remus stepped in your line of sight to place his jacket over you — it was Sirius’s leather jacket, really, but Remus liked to claim it occasionally. He bundled you in earmuffs and rested his chin atop your head, exhaling in relief. “I thought it was me.” 

You shook your head, clinging to the front of his shirt. “No, never. It was me. I’m sorry.” 

Remus grinned wolfishly, eyes swooping down to your kiss-stained lips. (There you were, standing in the snow that threatened to melt, eyes rimmed with tears, hair wildly ablaze from the cold breeze, cheeks damp and red — but how devastatingly beautiful you were.) “May I?” 

You nodded. “P-Please.”

Blueberries and dark chocolate. Remus whispered against your lips, “If it wasn’t already clear, the feeling is bloody mutual — we love you, just as the moon loves the sun enough to chase after it every day.” He grabbed your hand and placed it over his heart, you were surprised to see him holding back tears of his own. “All my life, I thought I was this monster who didn’t deserve to live. But you, all of you, make me selfish enough to want to belong here.” 

He kissed you desperately, words of adoration and love falling from his lips. 

Finally, your eyes settled on Lily. You waited for her reaction with a bated breath. 

You hadn’t expected for her to burst into tears as she rushed over to you. 

“Don’t you ever do that again,” said Lily angrily before circling you in her embrace, burying her nose in your hair. You hugged her back, drowning in her scent and warmth. “You are deserving of all the things you want, so don’t run away — if you run, we’d follow you, idiot girl.” 

Then, Lily captured your lips with her own. 

She tasted like happy endings.

note: 4k words and 6 hours later, here we are! let it be known i was THE poly marauders enthusiast years ago. i always wanted one with lily in the polycule so here we are. this is me manifesting my college romance, y'all. look away. anyways, i hoped u enjoyed it!! brought a smile to your face and all!! might make a part two for more fluff and to establish more relationship dynamics since this was written on a whim ;D also i planned a cute scene with peter as well, so i'll just write that in part two el em ay yo.

[ahundredtimesover]

I Want You to Stay (06) | JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: boss!JK x assistant!reader; idiot strangers to lovers; slow slow burn; k-drama feels; angst, drama, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, unhealthy coping mechanisms; family drama; minor injuries; power dynamics (JK starts off as a jerk); work-related anxiety, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; childhood traumatic experiences, nightmares; sexual harassment, prior incidence of domestic violence (PLS PLS BE CAREFUL WHEN READING); arts and business/property devt talk that’s probably inaccurate; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters; cold and detached JK; eventual explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 14.6k

Series Masterlist

Status: Ongoing

Series summary: Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You’ve dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

Playlist 🎶: on the way home

A/N: We're slowly heading somewhere! Still slow but it's something hehe thank you again for appreciating this piece! 🥰 Also... JK in that Vogue outfit with a corsage. YEP.

And as always, my biggest thanks to @wonwoonlight  🥰

PS. If I can’t tag you, pls fix your settings!

The silence that engulfs Jungkook’s apartment once you enter the following Monday is quite unnerving, as it brings back memories of the last time this happened and a half-naked woman came out of the bedroom and questioned who you were. The gym is empty. There’s no other sound of someone typing away or talking on the phone like the few times that you found Jungkook working before you even arrived.

You take a deep breath and decide to just face whoever comes out of these doors until one of them opens and out comes the man himself - alone - dressed in an oversized jumper and sweatpants. He looks like he just got out of bed with his semi-mussed hair - with a little sprout bouncing along as he moves - and groggy eyes, which widen once it registers that you’re here.

“Mr. Jeon,” you bow in greeting. “Are you feeling better?”

“A little,” he replies, his deep and gruff voice startling you a little. “What do you have there?”

He gestures towards the paper bag you’re holding, and you remember what you decided to bring over.

“Uh, chicken noodle soup,” you mutter, somehow suddenly shy. “Just an option for this morning. I wasn’t sure if you were still feeling under the weather.”

“I think I’m just fatigued,” he says. “But uh, I can have that.”

“Yes, sir,” you nod, putting it in a pot to eventually heat. 

You prepare his suits for the week then prepare his breakfast, pouring yourself a small serving as well. He takes his seat and starts eating, and you glance at him to see his reaction.

“Where did you get the one from last Saturday?” He asks, his face expressionless.

“From a store nearby,” you answer. “I was heading somewhere and your building was on the way.”

“This tastes better. Where did you get this from?” 

“I, uh, I made it,” you say softly, feeling a bit of pride that it’s something he complimented. 

There’s prolonged silence that you’re suddenly nervous about. His eyes remain focused straight ahead while yours constantly flit towards him, partly to gauge if he’ll start talking about last week’s meeting and partly to see his reaction about your dish.

“You don’t have to send or make me food, Ms. Cho,” he finally says, wishing he’d said it with a bit more warmth. 

But he’s not used to speaking that way, so it comes off as displeasure, as if he doesn’t appreciate what you’d done even if that’s exactly how he feels. He’s grateful; he just doesn’t want another reason to think that you actually care about him. 

“My health is my responsibility, not yours,” he adds.

“I, uh… I suppose that’s true,” you say even more softly. “I just thought it would be nice to be given something like this when you’re sick.”

And it’s the truth. During the times you were unwell, Hoseok would remind you to rest or take your medicines; he even bought you vitamins and it’s why taking them became a habit of yours. You barely had the energy to make soup. But after that one time when you braved through an event and Yoongi noticed you feeling under the weather, he took you to a noodle house and ordered extra chicken noodle soup for you to take home. You had it all through the weekend, and though it wasn’t like your mom’s, it was still something familiar, and it was comfort that you badly needed.

You thought it was something you could extend to Jungkook. You weren’t sure if he was spending the weekend at home by himself, but in case he was, you thought that something warm would help. You were on your way to watch a local film and happened to pass by his area, the image of him sick and probably alone prompting you to just buy that dish and leave it at the reception. You suddenly craved it and made one for yourself last night, thinking it wouldn’t hurt if you brought some over for him as well. Even if he thinks it isn’t your responsibility, you think it’s still within your role to make sure that your boss - the Vice President - conducts his functions properly, and he can only do so if he’s healthy. 

As you finish the small portion that you prepared for yourself, Jungkook wonders who’d taken care of you during the times you were sick. With your friends and family miles away, perhaps there wasn’t anyone. Maybe it was a boyfriend. Or maybe like what he’s come to see, you did things on your own. Maybe you think there’s no one doing that for him, too. 

And you wouldn’t be wrong. He was never good with company, after all, whether it was offering or keeping it. So when someone offers something as simple as a bowl of soup for when he’s feeling unwell, it cuts through the walls he’s built around himself because he’s become used to no one even knocking to check how he’s doing. 

But in an effort to remain unmoved and insistent on keeping his distance, he sets boundaries once more. 

“You don’t need to do this for me, Mr. Cho,” he states. “I appreciate it, but I’d prefer if you don’t do it again.”

He sees your face fall from his periphery, and much as he wants to take it back, he knows he has to hold back. It was hard enough to resist feeling cared for. 

He’d really spent the weekend by himself, turning down his friends’ invitation to go to a resort and Hoseok’s offer of dinner at this newly opened steak house. Jungkook was buried under the covers when the phone rang informing him that you’d left something for him, unwilling to move and get off the bed because he was too tired but also too hungry, so when he opened the bag and it registered to him what you've given him, he felt less alone and less sad for himself. The image of your shy expression flashed through his mind and he couldn’t help the smile he let out, giving himself only a minute to bask in your kindness before reminding himself that it means nothing more than making sure he’s well. It’s harder for you if he’s sick, he convinced himself. Still, he’d rather not think about it; he’d rather not torture himself by his brain wanting you to mean one thing, but his heart hoping it was another.

“I understand, Mr. Jeon,” you say, your voice a little too firm for his liking. “I apologize if it made you uncomfortable.”

“It—” didn’t, he wants to say. It made him feel nice and comfortable and that’s what he can’t let himself feel around you. 

“I treat this as part of my job,” you reason, a half lie because you really did want to extend some kindness even if he may not exactly be deserving of it. “But it may not be so for you. I’ll take note of this moving forward.”

Jungkook concedes. Any objection will counter what he’s been saying, even if he didn’t mean all of it. And like how you always do, you get over it quickly, flashing him a measured smile and taking out your iPad to go through this week’s schedule. 

You both head to the car after and discuss his previous meetings. You’re detailed and engaged, taking down notes and asking him questions like the professional that you are. He tells you about his meeting with artist Lee Jaemin and that he agreed with 80% of the pieces that you and Yoongi chose. You talk about the Board members’ reactions during his presentation and he shares what they talked to him about during the dinner. 

“Socializing with them was tiring,” he admits. “I couldn’t keep up with all the things that they wanted to talk about.”

You give him an assuring smile. “You looked like you did well,” you assure him. “They seemed engaged, although as Mr. Jung would say, part of that is for show, to get on your good side. It would be smarter to think that not all of it was genuine.”

“True. But I enjoyed speaking with Mr. Saito. He’s an architect, too, and we had a really good talk about incorporating traditional elements in a modern design.”

“Yes, he’s always been kind,” you say. “But it’s good that you’re able to forge these relationships. Perhaps it’s also new to them, seeing you in that light. I suppose they don’t know you all that much. It’s a nice change being able to engage with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ah, well, it’s just during the company events that you attended, it wasn’t exactly hard to spot you,” you chuckle, seemingly comfortable now.

“And why is that so?” 

He turns to you, legitimately curious because he’d never really noticed you before, even if he knew you as Hoseok’s assistant. If he’s being honest, you didn’t even look familiar when you first met, and that just reinforces the fact that Jungkook didn’t really care for the other people around him, especially during those events he was required to fly to Seoul to attend. If he’d paid a bit more attention, maybe he wouldn’t have been caught off guard when he did finally meet you. Maybe he wouldn’t have been as rude, too.

“If I may, sir, it was quite easy to spot one of the Jeon sons always at the bar,” you chuckle. “Your father and cousin would often look for you and you were always in the same spot.”

You’d noticed him, Jungkook thinks to himself. He wonders what you’d thought about him then, but given how he hated those events, it probably wouldn’t be something good. He just always couldn’t wait to leave. 

“Ah. As you can tell, I’m not one who likes to socialize,” he says. “I don’t really know what to talk to people about. And I’m not that good with names nor faces. It was easier to keep to myself.”

“That’s understandable. But you already know that’ll have to change,” you remind him. “Half of what Mr. Jung did was attend events.”

“I know. He’s been preparing me for that. I need your help in that aspect, too, from remembering names to getting my energy up. Those are oddly what I’m most nervous about, if I’m being honest.”

“I’ll do what I can, Mr. Jeon,” you assure him. “I hope I can make things easy for you.”

You’ll never know the irony of your words, and perhaps the push and pull it brings about - as you try to make things easy for him, the harder it actually becomes on his end. 

You find yourself back at the tailor shop the next Thursday for Jungkook’s suit fitting, and if it wasn’t for Taehyung telling you that your gowns are ready, you would have totally forgotten that you had some dresses made as well. 

While Jungkook tries on his outfits, you’re instructed to choose several dress shirts that he’d be adding to his wardrobe, given the various functions he’d be attending from now on. You didn’t anticipate for this to be part of your role, but you don’t mind, as it’s a welcome change to what you normally do, which is attend meetings, bury yourself in paperwork, and everything else in between. At least you’ll be visiting the venue for the Arts Center event tomorrow, but today, you focus on the task at hand, which turns out to be harder than expected.

The options are endless. It doesn’t help that you have to envision Jungkook in each piece of clothing and that he looks good in every one of them, and that you have to imagine him at all. You see him everyday - and have seen him in as little as in just his gym shorts - and you don’t really want to have him in your mind as well. But how he presents himself is a big part of his new role, as Hoseok had told you. As the Vice President, Jungkook needs to look sophisticated and respectable, someone worthy to represent the company and the Jeon family name. 

You go for different hues of grays and blacks and other colors, too. There’s an olive green that looks really nice, and a few maroons and pinks that would add variety to his everyday look. You’re focused on making your choices, but your focus shifts to Jungkook when he comes out of the dressing room donned in a patterned  black suit. The fit is perfect and even with the distance between you two, you could spot impeccable details that make the outfit look elegant yet fresh. 

“This is for the gala,” Taehyung states. “What do you think, Ms. Cho?”

“It looks nice” is all you manage to say. 

It’s the only word you feel is neutral enough to describe him. Even if you could accept that Jungkook is handsome, you don’t exactly want to say so in front of him.

“I was going for something better than nice, but that should be fine, I guess. What do you think, Kook?”

“I like it. But don’t you think the sleeves are a bit too fit on my arms?” Jungkook asks his friend.

“Well, it’s not like you were flexing them when I was measuring you,” Taehyung playfully rolls his eyes. “But I can adjust it, since I doubt you’d take a pause on lifting weights anyway. It’s probably the material though so don’t worry, I’ll fix this. Okay, on to the next one.”

You return to your task at hand, choosing some patterned tops that are appropriate for less formal events, and you inform Taehyung who then says that he’ll have those made in Jungkook’s measurements. With your task finished, Taehyung instructs you to head downstairs so you could fit your gowns as well, and you follow in anticipation because these might just be the first and only custom-made pieces of clothing you’ll ever have the luxury of wearing.

A female staff assists you, making sure that the length and neckline are to your liking. The first outfit, the one for the Arts Center event, is an old rose sleeveless lace midi dress that looks even more gorgeous when worn. The gown for the Appointment Dinner is a black short-sleeved pleated piece that is both functional and fashionable, but it’s the last one - the one for the gala - that has your jaw dropping to the ground.

“Ms. Cho,” you hear Taehyung call out from outside the fitting room. “Is everything okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, unable to stop looking at yourself in the mirror and turning around to try to see every angle of the stunning dress. “It’s just, uh…”

“It’s what?” He asks worriedly. “Can you come outside so I can see?” 

You take a breath before pulling the heavy curtains open and find Taehyung and Jungkook standing not far away.

“It’s too pretty, Mr. Kim,” you say shyly. “I don’t think I can wear this.”

“Well, you will. Because it’s custom-made,” he points out. “And it looks gorgeous on you. It fits perfectly. I assume the others do as well?”

“Yes,” you smile, feeling like a fairytale princess who gets to wear a gown that her fairy godmother had made for her. “They’re just…”

“Exactly what you need as this guy’s right hand woman,” Taehyung finishes for you.

He gestures towards his best friend who seems expressionless and probably unimpressed by how you look. It’s not like you mind but it at least wouldn’t be humiliating if he just stood there looking uninterested.

“What do you think, Kook?”

“It looks nice,” Jungkook shrugs, repeating the words you’d used on him earlier. Shifting his gaze from you to Taehyung, he excuses himself. “I’ll head to the car, I have calls to make.”

“I’ll finish up here,” you say, turning around to go back to the fitting room.

Jungkook exits the shop and finally breathes, feeling like he’d suffocated inside because of how you looked. He’d wondered how the dresses turned out, curious about the designs because Taehyung didn’t want to show him; it’s a surprise, the man had said. And now Jungkook knows why. 

Stunning would be an inadequate word to use. The burgundy color of the gown made it look sophisticated on you, even more with the off-shoulder that showed off some of your features that he’d rather not think about. The flow was elegant, and he half wishes that he hadn’t thought of having these made only so he could avoid the moment earlier when he felt his throat dry up because of how beautiful you looked. 

He’s gonna have to get used to being rendered speechless every time, he thinks, but it’s not like it doesn’t happen everyday, anyway. Every morning that he finds you standing in his kitchen, donning the pencil skirt and blouse ensemble that assistants are recommended to wear, his mind short circuits. There’s something especially fresh and electrifying about you at the start of the day, and he always has to pull himself together and act normal around you without giving himself away. 

He can’t nurture the attraction, after all, even if he’s reminded of it during times like earlier, even more so when he gazes at you and you hold it, letting the tension build unconsciously. Because that’s what happened, as you pulled open the curtains and looked up. He wishes you were too shy to notice how long he had his eyes on you. But it’s why he had to get away. You’re too much for him sometimes, and he doesn’t know if you have any idea of how you affect him.

Jungkook stares at his phone, half hoping that an actual call would come to distract him. But nothing does, and he leans his head back and groans in frustration. What is it about you that makes him absolutely weak in the knees and stupid in the head? 

Back inside, you give Taehyung your address so he can have the gowns delivered to your apartment for your convenience. 

“Thank you again, Mr. Kim,” you say. “I wish I could do your creations justice.”

“You will. It’s in the confidence, so exude it, okay?”

“I’ll try,” you giggle. “Especially since those pieces will pretty much blow the Office of the VP’s budget.”

“Is that what Kook said? That these are budgeted under him?” Taehyung arches an eyebrow.

“Uh, yes, sort of. I just assumed because he’d pointed out that they were being made as part of my functions,” you explain. 

“Hmm. I know his office has a lot of money but these gowns would definitely blow up any contingency fund you have,” he chuckles. “So no, your assumption is wrong. Kook’s paying for all this.”

“What?” You exclaim. “But that’s— why?”

“Well, you do need these as part of your job, and he wanted to save you the inconvenience of spending for them. I mean, he did buy Lucas some suits, too. But between you and me, I think this is his way of apologizing to you, just in a very gallant way.”

“You mean unnecessary and undeserving,” you correct, still in shock that Jungkook is paying for all those, even if yes, he can easily afford them. 

“Nope, not at all. I know he’s been difficult to deal with and I’d like to apologize on his behalf, seeing that he’s terrible at doing it. I know it doesn’t make things better but at least it’s something you don’t have to worry about anymore.”

“Well, that does help a bit,” you smile, following him as he heads out the door. “But thank you again, Mr. Kim.”

“Off with the formalities,” he laughs. “It’s Taehyung. And you’re welcome. It’s the least I could do to somehow make up for my ass of a best friend.” 

“He’s not too bad. Not anymore, at least,” you counter. “I’ll go ahead. Have a good day, Taehyung!”

Jungkook manages to look down on his phone in time for you not to see him watch you talk freely and casually with his friend. That’s another person close to him who gets to experience how you’re like - joyful and warm, perhaps a little shy sometimes, but comfortable just the same. It’s something he’ll only see from afar; your positions necessitate some distance, but perhaps that’s better than not having you around at all. 

You enter the car and you’re back to being quiet and reserved, your eyes focused on the road while Jungkook, in an effort not to keep glancing at you, turns to his leather notebook and doodles some designs that pop in his head. It’s his way of calming himself down most days, helping him focus given that his mind is often filled with too many thoughts that he can’t express. He hopes that in drawing them, he can somehow rid himself of the feelings he’s locked in and it helps, as he’s somehow able to get over the tension from earlier and the tiniest bit of jealousy over your casual engagement with Taehyung.

You both return to the office, with Jungkook proceeding to his room to prepare for a lunch meeting and you follow, taking some signed documents that he’d left earlier.

“Mr. Jeon,” you say as he settles in his seat. “Thank you for the dresses. I… I’ve never had anything as beautiful as those and undeserving as I may feel, I’m just really appreciative.”

Jungkook isn’t prepared for the softness in your voice as you say the words, and like the consistent jerk that he is, he brushes it off.

“Taehyung made them; you should thank him. I just paid for them,” he utters, his tone stern and uncaring.

His eyes flit to you when there’s silence on your end, and he wishes they hadn’t. There’s resignation in yours, as if he’s shattering another moment you’re creating where you’re just being sincere and he’s being dismissive. It’s his default, he reasons, not just towards you but towards everyone. Normally he wouldn’t mind how the other would take it, but with you right now, he wishes he was so much better than this. 

You hold his gaze, as if trying to tell him things you don’t want to express. He’s not one to apologize, but he also won’t accept gratitude. You’re starting to think that what Jungkook can’t handle is any form of human connection. It’s something you struggle with at times, but you’re at least open to it, willing to accept kindness and appreciating people for what they have to offer. Jungkook deflects; he turns away. It seemed like it took so much for him to even verbalize needing your help and perhaps he was desperate; his reputation was on the line after all. But even then, he doesn’t give nor does he accept, and you wonder what made him that way. 

“Is there anything else?” He finally asks after a long beat of silence. 

“Nothing more,” you shake your head and excuse yourself. 

Returning to your desk, you look at Jungkook from your seat. There’s a hint of emptiness in his eyes that you often mistake for apathy. Perhaps there’s more and perhaps the help he really needs isn’t just about dealing with his father or remembering names or navigating relationships required for his role. Maybe it’s about opening himself up a little, or smiling when the situation calls for it, or not questioning other people’s kindness towards him. Maybe it’s about realizing he’s more than just this heir to the company or the playboy he’s known as. Maybe it’s about seeing that he’s capable of sincerity and gentleness as well.

You sigh to yourself. It’s probably a long shot but you only feel strongly about it because you know what it’s like to turn people away. If it hadn’t been for your family and friends, you probably would’ve continued to do so. Jungkook may be your boss but he’s human, too, and he may just be waiting around to see who’d be patient enough to extend a hand and let him know that he’s not alone, that someone understands, and maybe that someone is you.

The days fly by too quickly for your liking and you haven't been able to take a breath. You had a meeting with the organizing committee of the Appointment Dinner most of last Friday and you spent your weekend coordinating with the designers for the Arts Center launch. It’s been last minute preparations these past two days and before you know it, Wednesday has come. You stayed late the night before and were gladly checked in at the hotel with the other assistants, so you at least got a bit of sleep even if your body felt like it continued to stay awake. 

But tonight is important, as the newly appointed executives will be formally introduced to the corporation’s directors, shareholders, and subsidiary companies. You’ve been organizing this with the planning committee since the appointments were announced, and given that coordinating events like this is one of your primary tasks, you’re exhausted and excited and nervous all at once. But it’s the second time you’re doing this and you’ve learned so much since you did this for Hoseok. There’s more knowledge, sure, but there’s also more confidence. You also know enough to eat before the guests arrive and at 3PM, it’s exactly what you do, knowing you won’t have much else until the event ends.

The other employees compliment your dress, and you’re too shy to say who had designed it but you eventually do, knowing it’s good for Taehyung’s brand. But you don’t say much else, choosing instead to focus on the guest list as you’re tasked to do, and you go around the events hall to make sure that the VIP name cards are placed on their proper tables. You’re able to sneak bites of the canapes as you go, allowing yourself a flute of champagne for that kick you need to socialize with the guests tonight. 

You engage with the early birds when they arrive, guiding them to their seats and putting on your most welcoming smile. You get Mr. Ri’s message that they’re nearby, so you head outside and stand by the entrance and wait for them, knowing Jungkook would want to know how things are going.

He exits the car in a black suit and white top, a statement brooch adorning his classic coat. The strands of his long hair are tucked behind his ears and he looks even more polished than usual, a look that catches attention; it definitely catches yours. 

“Mr. Jeon,” you bow in greeting. “Some of your invited guests have arrived.” 

“Have you spoken to them?” He asks, as you walk slightly behind him towards the venue. 

“I have, and they’re looking forward to seeing you.” 

He nods, and just as he’s about to enter the hall, he stops and turns towards you. 

“You’re busy tonight, aren’t you?”

“Somewhat, sir,” you reply. “We all have our tasks but I’m free to move around. Do you need help with anything?”

“Just, uh, names.”

“I’ll always be nearby,” you assure him. 

Your smile gives him the comfort he needs. He’s been without it since yesterday afternoon, given that you had to prepare as part of the organizing committee. And while the support team and Yoongi have been encouraging, only you really know why every event such as this is important for him. 

Jungkook has already made gains with some of the Board members last week; this time, it’s about engaging everyone else - the staff, the partners, and key personalities in the industry. Hoseok and Ji-woo have done this before but it’s Jungkook’s first time. He’s no longer just an executive in the Southeast Asian office; he’s now the Vice President of the entire company. There’s a lot of pressure that comes from carrying the Jeon family name, and even more being the only one of the two sons who’s taking on such an important role. 

The event hall is grand. It’s pretty special, too. It’s one of the projects he worked on as part of the design department years ago before he left for Singapore, and the thought makes him stop. Perhaps this is the reason why his father chose this venue for tonight; if anything, it’s a reminder of what Jungkook is capable of. He takes a breath and looks around to soak everything in before approaching his invited guests - partners and consultants he worked with in his previous role. 

But that ends quickly, as many more people approach him for a greeting. 

Jungkook is a bit overwhelmed. He tries to hold eye contact when he speaks to them but he can only do so for so long. Some faces are familiar but the names escape him, and he starts to regret all the times that he flew here for events like this and never engaged with the other guests. If he had, perhaps this wouldn’t be so hard. 

There are those who introduce themselves, while there are those who don’t, perhaps assuming that he’d know who they are. Just like the couple who’s speaking to him excitedly, and he wants to return the energy by at least calling them by their names. His mind is blank, and just as he’s about to give up, he looks up and sees you, your eyes catching his as if you’re just waiting for his cry for help. 

There’s pleading in his eyes and you get it immediately, as you walk towards his direction then greet the pair next to him.

“Mr. and Mrs. Yamada,” you say. “It’s lovely to see both of you again. I saw in the news that you’re launching a new project with our partners from Dubai. That’s quite exciting.”

“Ah, Ms. Cho,” they greet you back. “Yes, all thanks to Mr. Jung who helped us with that partnership. We’re excited for it as well.”

“Oh, I’m sure. We’re looking forward to it,” you smile.

“Thank you. I’m pleased to know that you remain as the Vice President’s assistant,” Mrs. Yamada says. “Perhaps we can invite Mr. Jeon to one of our hotels in Japan? Or even in London?”

You turn to Jungkook who looks less tense than he did a few minutes ago.

“Ah, yes, that would be great, Mr. and Mrs. Yamada,” he responds. “I’m sure I’ll find time during one of my trips and I’ll definitely give you a call. Perhaps we can talk about projects we can work on as well.”

The excitement in the couple’s faces is a joy to see and for their sake, you really do wish that Jungkook makes good on his promise. You ask him about it after they leave, and he says that the names were familiar. Ji-woo’s talked about working with them before and that they’re long-time friends of the family, so he should maintain that relationship. 

A call of his name prompts both of you to look to the side, and he turns to you with a questioning face. 

“Mr. Adam’s an investor. Behind him is Professor Zhang from SNU. They’re friends of your father,” you tell him. Seeing Bitna signal for you, you say, “I have to check on something, Mr. Jeon. I’ll be back.”

You turn around to head to one of the tables, but you look back to watch Jungkook greet those who approach him, his smile becoming more natural as the moments pass by. You briefly meet with some staff about the musical guest and some other last minute adjustments. You greet Taehyung and Seokjin who show up to support their best friend, with both men complimenting how you look.

Knowing that Jungkook will be needing you again after, you call over Do-hyun and Yohan and delegate some of your monitoring tasks to them, and then stand by one of the tables as you watch the socialization take place as more guests come in.

Your eyes find Jungkook again as he’s engaged in a conversation with some Board members and other partners, and you smile a little at how he’s able to maintain eye contact and look like he’s actually interested, especially after he looks up and gives you a look as if to say that he’s trying his best. 

“Why are you watching him like some child who’s trying to make friends at the playground?” Chin-sun asks, the teasing tone of her voice making you chuckle. “He’s a grown man, you know? He can hold his own.”

“I know,” you reply, turning to her. “But it’s one of the many things that’s new about his role. And probably one of the more important ones. I just wanna let him know that he’s doing a good job.”

“Well, there’s no wife or girlfriend to do that. I guess that makes it your responsibility then.”

You disregard her comment’s implication and point out that Hoseok does that for Jungkook, too, but he’s just as busy and perhaps just as nervous as well. 

“It matters a lot to hear it. Plus, social events can be overwhelming and isolating at the same time. He’s still getting used to it,” you add.

The prolonged silence prompts you to turn to her.

“You know, I admire you for a lot of things,” she says. “Your ability to remain kind after everything is one of them. I mean, after how he treated you those first few weeks? That was tough.”

Your resigned face pushes her to continue. “Do-hyun could’ve gone on without telling me about seeing you cry and I still would’ve known. You tried to hide it but your smile always fell too fast and your eyes were just always sad. Must’ve been hard, trying to get the team on his side when you couldn’t do that for yourself.”

“I honestly don’t know how I survived that first month,” you laugh to mask the sadness from that experience. “But that’s in the past. He still has his moments but at least there are good ones now. I’m here to do my job. Being kind after everything is part of it.”

“I wish you didn’t have to keep it to yourself though,” she laments. “If we couldn’t help, we could’ve at least cheered you up.”

“I didn’t want to bring you guys into it,” you say. “The team was incredibly busy with so many things and I managed. That’s what matters.”

“Oh, ___,” she sighs. “You put so much of yourself in your job. I think that’s why the bosses trust you. But that takes so much out of you, too. Do you have anything left for yourself?”

“What’s left is right here, Chin-sun. I don’t think I know what I am outside of all this.”

“Doesn’t that bother you? I mean, I’ve worked with you for three years and I can’t say I really know you outside of this, too. And if you can’t… well, that’s something to think about.”

“And I have. It’s something I’ve asked myself, but trying to find the answer isn’t as easy as asking the question. So I just put all my energy into my work because where else would I? It at least pays the bills and lets me enjoy little luxuries every once in a while,” you reason. 

“Well, I know what learning who you are outside of this job would entail, and I’m a little selfish because I need you around,” she smiles. “No one does things the way you do, and that’s also why I figured that at some point, Mr. Jeon was gonna get himself together because he can’t afford to lose you. You’re so good at this, ___. He’s lucky you didn’t quit.”

“Apparently, it takes a lot to get me to quit,” you reply. 

Or I was just never brave enough to do it, you want to say. Asking the question is indeed always easier than finding the answer. 

“Let’s hope you find a way to find yourself without resigning. We can’t afford to lose you, too,” she winks. 

“I appreciate that, Chin-sun. Thank you.”

“Well, I think it matters that you know that you’re doing amazing. I hope he treats you as you deserve.”

He tries, you think to yourself. At least that’s what you hope. 

The call of your names from a familiar voice excites you, as A-yeong approaches you and Chin-sun. You engage in your usual hushed conversations until you see Jungkook in another sea of people and you decide to approach him, the relief on his face telling you that he’s indeed been needing you. 

It’s not your preferred crowd. Something you’ve learned in your years of attending these events is that you would smile and entertain them and men would think it’s an invitation to invade your personal space. A lingering touch on the elbow, a hand on your waist, standing a millimeter too close… and they disregard your uncomfortable look or attempts at stepping away. 

The man you’re introduced to is new but his ways aren’t, and you scan the hall to find Bitna who turns to you in time, the look you give her signaling another person to look out for. It’s a system they developed that they’ve filled you in on, and you immediately excuse yourself and check on the food served at the back even if you know they’re still well stocked. It at least allows you a breather. You’re not even a main actor but you’re tired as hell from socializing with people. 

It’s not long after when the event starts. Speeches and a performance take place while dishes are being put out, and it’s after the main course is served when Jungkook steps away from his seat. 

Choosing to stand towards the back before he’s called on stage to be introduced, he scans the hall and thinks about the work that the committee put in, including you, who had to deal with him while dealing with all this. He catches sight of you speaking with the other assistants, and he already knows there’s some planning going on. But like the last time, he felt you around even if you were busy; you held his gaze during the times he felt a little overwhelmed. 

“You ready?”

Yoongi’s voice is deep but calming, and Jungkook takes it as his friend’s way of encouraging him. 

“Not really, but I’ll manage.” 

“Good. You’ve got people on your side,” Yoongi assures him. “Like me. And especially her.”

He gestures towards the left where Jungkook sees you approaching them. Since you started working for him, he didn’t expect how easily he could find comfort in your presence. He went from wishing you were someone else, to wanting to distance himself from you, to constantly hoping you were around. Those last two could actually coexist, and they do. There’s still detachment as his means to combat the attraction - he tries not to care about you, to not get to know you, to remind himself of who you are in his life, but he still depends on you for support, for comfort, for stability. You make his life easier; you also make it feel less lonely. And every time you’re there is a moment where he feels like he could breathe, like the noise in his mind stills because he’s forced to focus on you; somehow, you captivate him that way. 

“Are you ready, Mr. Jeon?”

The contrasting tenderness of your voice gives him that boost and he nods despite the lingering nervousness.

“I guess so,” he huffs. “Let’s get this over with.”

He walks towards his seat up front while you stay behind with Yoongi who leads you to one of the free tables at the back. You both don’t say much to each other, focusing instead on the short speeches that Ji-woo and Hoseok give, both of them expressing their gratitude and giving previews of upcoming projects to look forward to. They’re masters at commanding a crowd, as evidenced by their engagement and loud applause at the end of it. You can already imagine Jungkook feeling even more nervous, knowing that’s not really his style, but you hope that your earlier encouragement lingers, as he walks towards the stage.

He delivers his speech flawlessly. Knowing him the way you do, you could tell he let his vulnerability shine through, even if it may not seem much to everyone else. The teaser about the Arts Center gets people excited, which he builds up on. He even slides in a few jokes that surprisingly get the audience entertained. 

A small smile paints your face and from next to you, Yoongi chuckles in almost disbelief. 

“Is it safe to say you’re proud of him?” He asks, as Jungkook walks down the stage and CEO Jeon takes the mic. 

“You could say that,” you turn to him. “It’s silly, considering how things started. I… I didn’t think I’d be genuinely rooting for him, you know? But I am. I really want him to do well.”

“That’s good to hear, ___. I guess it means that things really are changing and he’s treating you better.”

“I think they are,” you hum. “I mean, not the best, but I also don’t know what that’s supposed to look like. I guess I’m just understanding who he is a little bit better now. And I think that makes the difference.”

“Like I said, he’s not a terrible person. He just needs… someone to be patient with him, someone to show him kindness,” Yoongi says. “I think that’s what he lost along the way. He stopped being that way to himself and so did people. They just didn’t want to upset him, but they also didn’t give or show anything more.”

“You think so?”

“Why do you think it’s so hard for him to forge even the simplest and most basic connections?” Yoongi questions. “They lack meaning for him. I think he’s forgotten what that’s like. Without sincerity or kindness, without intensity or honesty, there’s just… emptiness. Everything is fleeting for him.”

“And you’re telling me this, why?” You eye him curiously. 

“Because I think your kindness did something to him.”

“And that is?”

“He’s showing a bit of that to himself, too. And I guess to others as well,” Yoongi explains. 

“I’m a mere assistant doing her job, Yoongi,” you shake your head. “It’s a little selfish but I do what I can to appease him and to make our relationship good enough to make this job bearable for me. If it makes him a better person, good for him and better for me. I’ll just keep doing it then.”

Your friend’s silence prompts you to turn towards him. He seems to be in deep thought, perhaps analyzing what you’d just said, which he tends to do. 

There’s no lie in your statement. You’d done your part of standing up to Jungkook at the start; you at least got to show you were capable of fighting for yourself in that sense. But after that, you learned that keeping things in and letting him see how his actions affect you works as well. You show kindness because it’s natural for you, but also because it keeps the peace, it keeps both of you stable. 

But you can also admit that you do all that because wanting him to know that he’s got you on his side is a way to tell yourself that you’ve got people rooting for you, too, even if you’re not the best at keeping relationships nor keeping people close. You show Jungkook what you want to experience from people; you make him feel what you want to feel. Maybe that makes you selfish. You think it also makes you human.

It’s not something you tell Yoongi, though. But maybe with the way he looks at you assuringly, you suppose he knows it, too.

The event finally ends and the guests start exiting the venue. You bid them goodbye while instructing some in-house staff about cleaning up. Mr. and Mrs. Jeon greet you on their way out, commending you for your work along with the others, and it’s their encouraging smiles that remind you of one of the reasons why you stick to this job. They’re people you don’t want to disappoint as well, and seeing them satisfied is always a good thing. 

“Hey, you’re officially off the clock,” Bitna reminds you. “A couple of us are staying for closing, remember?”

“Right,” you smile. 

They have a day off tomorrow because of tonight but it’s not something you can afford, given that you’ve got the Arts Center event one a week from now. It’s almost midnight and you’d have to be up in 5 hours.

“I’ll get going then. I’ll just say goodbye to— oh, Mr. Jeon,” you say, finding him just as you were about to look for him. “Is there anything I can help you with before I leave?”

“Oh, there’s nothing. Just, uh, how are you getting home?”

“A cab,” you answer. 

Yoongi nudges your arm from next to you with a pout on his face. “Yah! I’ll take you home. It’s not safe to take a cab this late.”

“Yes, that’s preferable, Ms. Cho,” Jungkook says. “It’s been a long night.”

“Okay, sir,” you nod. “And it has. You also did really well. I didn’t expect the jokes but they were obviously a hit. Yoongi laughed, that’s how I know.”

“You laughed, too,” Yoongi points out.

“I’m glad it worked, then,” Jungkook says. “You can get going. You can also report to my place at 8AM to give you more time to rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jungkook heads out and rushes to the car where Mr. Ri drives him home. His mind is still buzzing from what transpired but he’s glad he managed like he said he would, like you believed he would. 

And amidst the relief that he did well and the nervousness from having to do something similar again next week, there’s you, a vision that he quickly shakes off and one he finds himself seeing after every big and small thing that he does. 

Your warm shower and your bed have never felt this good, only because you’re as tired as you are and you want nothing more than the weekend to come. But you’ve got a few more stressful days ahead of you and you try to push through them one at a time.

You go to Jungkook later than usual that Thursday then spend much of the entire day meeting with him and the team about next week’s event. You conduct a visit to the venue the next day and then spend the weekend answering guests’ queries and helping Chin-sun coordinate with suppliers. Monday and Tuesday have you going from one place to another and hopping from one meeting to the next, all while balancing your executive assistant and events manager responsibilities. 

It’s incredibly tiring, but you also won’t deny the exhilaration you feel. There’s something so satisfying about seeing everything come together, especially as you look around the venue - an industrial commercial space that Jungkook and Yoongi jointly designed specifically for tonight. The high ceilings allow for the large panels that project the Arts Center design, with bright lights Illuminating the curated sculptures and art pieces placed around. The space elicits a feeling of newness and familiarity, of hollowness and clarity. There’s integration of traditional and modern elements and essentially, of history and emergence. 

It leaves you quite breathless as you look around. It’s not even the Arts Center itself but you know that this is the emotion that Jungkook wants the guests to feel. He wants them to be in awe, to look on in excitement. 

“It’s pretty great, huh?” Yoongi asks next to you. “Worth all the hard work.”

“It is. Design and logistics did amazing in putting this together,” you say, given that you’ve spent the entire day working with both teams to set this up.

“Well, Jungkook’s vision is captivating to begin with. It really makes a difference when you’re led by a creative mind. Selling the idea won’t be so hard in a place like this.”

“I really hope so. We’re banking on the artists for exposure. There are gonna be articles about it, too. The whole process is being documented and that makes the final product much more exciting,” you explain. “I… I actually feel really good being a part of this. I’m glad I didn’t quit after that first week.”

Yoongi laughs along with you, knowing now that that experience no longer bothers you the way it used to. But he’s glad about it, too, not only because he selfishly wants you around but even more, he knew that you needed this, that you needed to feel redeemed in Jungkook’s eyes and in yours. Yoongi hopes that as the project goes on, you’ll learn more about yourself and what you want, what you’re good at, what you can give, and what makes you happy. 

“That makes both of us. I’m sure Jungkook thinks so, too,” Yoongi replies.

“Well, we’ll never know because he’ll probably never admit it but it’s a good thought,” you smile. “As long as we maintain this unproblematic dynamic, I’m good.”

“Speaking of which, where is he?”

“On the way,” you say. “He had a meeting to attend and he said he’ll be fixing up here. He should be here in a few minutes.”

Do-hyun approaches you about the photographer and you excuse yourself, instructing Yohan next to her to lead Jungkook to the waiting room when he arrives. 

Jungkook steps into the venue and like he’d hoped, he feels the energy as he takes it all in. There’s a lot of possibility as he looks around, and that’s what he wants the guests to see. He wants the artists to envision their own pieces displayed; he wants the creatives to imagine fashion shows and photo shoots and videos that come to life; he wants people to see the potential of an Arts Center beyond just looking at art pieces.

But underneath the pride is nervousness. There will be important personalities coming today and it’s his opportunity to engage with them, to make them want to be a part of this. Talking about the details of the project would be easy; it’s connecting with them that’s a challenge. He had last week’s Appointment Dinner as a trial and like you said, he did well. It’s tonight that matters so much more to him. He supposes that what happens will set the trajectory for how the promotion of the Center will go, so making a good first impression is crucial. 

Yohan approaches him and leads him towards the waiting room where his outfit, which Taehyung had pressed and sent over here, hangs on a rack. There are two magazine publications that will feature this event and both include an interview with him and some photos. 

Jungkook starts dressing up, knowing he’ll be called for those not long from now. He looks at himself in the mirror and the uncertainty fills him again. It’s not the look he would’ve gone for but his best friend was adamant that an event like this calls for something new. With his trousers and fitted shirt on, Jungkook breathes in and out, and it’s at the same time when there’s a knock on the door and your call of his name suddenly makes him nervous. 

You enter, stopping as you shut the door, your eyes a little wide, and look at him. You’re a sight to behold in your floral-laced dress and if he was anxious seconds ago, he’s even more now.

“I knew I should’ve stuck to the classic,” Jungkook sighs at your unmoving form. 

“What—what do you mean, Mr. Jeon?” You ask, finally finding your voice. 

“You’re not saying anything,” he frowns. “Tonight probably wasn’t the best time to show up in an outfit like this.”

“And why is that?” You wonder, walking closer to him now. You try to calm your racing heart because Jungkook looking this good in a checkered flared trouser and white v-neck shirt was not something you expected. “You look…”

“Pretentious?” He chuckles, shaking his head and bending towards the mirror, his angled body making you feel even hotter.

You’ve long accepted that Jungkook is a very handsome man. It’s probably why it was more frustrating despising him and, like Soomin said, also satisfying. He’s got a perfect mix of boyish and manly features with his doe eyes and chiseled jaw; the aura of confidence and nonchalance perhaps add to that as well. It also doesn’t help that he has a really good physique, something you’d seen on his first day on the job and one you’d denied affected you. You’d gotten used to it somehow. Hard as it was to suppress those thoughts every time you fixed his tie or watched him walk about his penthouse in his gym clothes, you managed. You’ve always been professional, and you’ve always reminded yourself to not let it affect you.

But tonight, it’s just hard not to, especially with the way his biceps are popping out of those short sleeves; and if the shirt were an inch tighter, you’d probably be able to trace his toned chest and abs as well. He’s cut his hair, too, slick and pushed back as if he's starring in some western rockstar film. 

“Good…” you manage to say after what seemed like minutes. “The outfit looks good on you, sir. It’s new and fresh, not like the usual formal attire that screams ‘businessman who only wants profits.’ This is posh and stylish. It makes you look more approachable.”

“This is what would make me look approachable?” He asks incredulously.

“Actually, a smile would,” you say too quickly, earning you a laugh. “But this works, too. It fits with the theme.”

“That’s what Tae said, too,” Jungkook sighs. “He insisted that at least for these Arts Center-related events, I should dress a little more boldly and more interesting, things I definitely am not but, well, I couldn’t counter him when he said that my usual prints and styles make me look like I’m just going to a meeting or some business conference.”

“And he’s not wrong,” you point out, walking closer to him. “You don’t need anything eccentric, just something exciting. This is simple yet sophisticated.”

“Have you seen the coat?” He asks, gesturing to the rack when you say no.

“Oh. There’s a corsage,” you say, admiring the matching brown checkered piece.

“An oversized one,” he rolls his eyes. 

“It looks pretty.”

“That’s what he said, too.”

“If you don’t like it, why didn’t you tell him during the fitting?”

“I did like it but it’s Tae - he’s good at convincing people that they look good. And I probably thought that, too. But he’s not yet here and he’s gonna be late so right now, all I can think about is that I’ll look ridiculous.”

“Well, that makes one of us,” you say, surprising him. “If what I think matters, then you’d have to take my word for it. The outfit looks good. It captures people’s attention and that’s what you need. You’re just gonna have to follow this up with similar styles but that wouldn’t be a problem. Just carry yourself with confidence. It’s what Mr. Kim would say.”

“I know. He texted that same line to me five times today.”

“He’s your best friend, Mr. Jeon. I’m sure he’s looking out for your best interest.”

“True, but then again, we were forced to become friends when we were young so who knows?”

You laugh at his words. “Is that so?”

“Our fathers are best friends so we spent a lot of time together,” Jungkook shares. “We were all so different and we got on each other’s nerves but I guess that made us closer. I… I wasn’t close to my brother so I just stuck with those who stuck around. It’s a good thing they turned out to be decent people.”

“They’re very kind, I should say.”

“Yeah. It sucks that their kindness didn’t rub off on me,” he says as he holds your gaze.

The tension rises as you look back at him. It’s hard not to fall into his eyes, and you’re thankful for the knock on the door and Yohan’s voice on the other side saying that the interviewer is ready for Jungkook now. 

“Five minutes,” you call out, breaking the moment and retrieving his last piece of clothing. 

You assist him in wearing his coat and just like reflex, you immediately fix the sleeves and adjust the corsage that isn’t actually that big. You look at him from head to toe and see Taehyung’s vision. There’s something captivating about Jungkook in this fit; it makes him intriguing and someone to look out for. You suppose that was the intention.

“Respectable enough?” He asks worriedly once you meet his eyes.

“Respectable enough,” you affirm, hoping your smile can give him the encouragement he needs. 

You open the door and let the first set of crew in. You watch on as they interview and take snapshots while your own team from the marketing department capture what’s happening as well. 

Jungkook sits cross-legged on the sofa, his eyes looking out into the distance as he absorbs the questions and thinks of his answers. He gesticulates as he responds, something you noticed him only ever do about topics that seem very important to him. He’s done it during meetings with the team and with Yoongi, and you suppose there’s that level of honesty that he shows then. His responses are thoughtful and profound, as the questions revolve around the type of art pieces to be displayed, how culture can be celebrated and respected, and what the public can look forward to once the Center is open to everyone. 

The next interviewer starts off with the practical questions before moving to the technicalities of the design and structure such as the materials used, the techniques utilized in renovating such a massive complex, and how the Center itself represents art and culture. This is when Jungkook fully relaxes. You see it in his body language, in the softness of his expressions, and in the mellow tone of his voice as he discusses in terms you don’t fully understand but somehow still make you feel like you know exactly what he’s talking about.

It’s different seeing him in this way. Your team vetted these interviewers and publications and they seem sincere about their articles and so you know they aren’t there to judge; Jungkook knows they aren’t there to scrutinize him. He’s not there to impress them or even to sell the idea; he just wants to share it, to make it known, to narrate the process of this project that may still be in its very early stages but which has lived in his mind for years.

He may not always be good with words but you can tell that he finds them when the ideas are clear to him. He’s able to articulate what he sees in his mind and there’s something captivating about that. There’s a lot you can learn from him, you think, and if what you develop after having stayed this long is even just a fraction of his creativity, then you’d feel accomplished. 

You can tell even more now how important this is to him, especially when he emphasizes the individual’s need and desire for connection and how he wants the Center to be a hub for that, or perhaps its creator. You wonder if he knows so much about it, or if, like you, it’s something he also constantly seeks. 

You’re so focused on taking him all in that you don’t notice that you’ve been staring. Your eyes fall on his fingers, waving about as he draws imaginary pictures; they land on his lips, pink and dry as they utter words that are perhaps the most he’s said, and suddenly, his voice is the most comforting it’s ever sounded to you. You look upwards and that’s when you notice it - his eyes are on you just as yours are on him yet he continues talking, and you hold onto it for a few seconds before you feel the heat reach your cheeks. It feels like a burn and you snap out of the spell-like feeling you were caught in as you turn away now and try to catch your breath.

You hadn’t meant to stare but you were drawn to him at that moment, and as he talked about how the designs reflect the tangibility yet elusiveness of human connection, you found yourself drowning in his words and in the way he said them. He’d caught you before you could look away, and you decide that the only way to go about it is to pretend it didn’t happen.

And that’s what you do, as you remain on your spot with your eyes scanning the room, no longer focused on him.

The interview ends right as Chin-sun enters to say that some guests have arrived. You instruct her to entertain them first with Manager Lee as you wrap up in here and it’s not long after when you’re left with Jungkook once again.

“Was that good?” He asks, his gaze on you as you look elsewhere.

“It was. You seemed more relaxed,” you state, unnecessarily fixing the couch to distract yourself. “That’s a good way to start the evening, Mr. Jeon. I’m sure the guests would enjoy speaking with you tonight.”

“That’s what I hope,” he replies. “I’ll need you close to me to keep track of scheduled meetings or any invitations. I’d also like them to be familiar with you as my assistant so they know who to reach out to in case I’m not available.”

“Of course, sir,” you say, turning around to face him again, suddenly feeling nervous about the intensity of his look. “I’ll take note of all those.” 

He nods then exits the room and you follow. You trail him as he starts to greet the guests one by one.

There are heads of private foundations and curators. There are creative directors from entertainment agencies and some art enthusiasts. There are artists and authors and poets, all of whom are intrigued and seemingly excited about what’s in store. 

Jungkook heads to the front after being introduced by Manager Lee and takes his time to introduce the project, utilizing the panels and all of the interiors’ walls to showcase the design virtually. He presents his plans and the role of artists, creatives, creators, and consumers. It’s a half hour speech that ends, followed by a light sit-down dinner that Jungkook takes advantage of to engage with the guests. 

He first greets the deputy minister of the arts and culture ministry and then Mr. Saito, who’d likewise brought some of his artist friends from Japan. 

You then follow Jungkook around as instructed, taking notes on your phone in between to list all the upcoming meetings and other activities scheduled on the spot. You’ve somehow developed this skill with Hoseok but it still doesn’t get any easier. The fact that so many of them want to touch base with Jungkook after his pitch says a lot about how well he did and how much it resonated with the people he wanted to connect with. 

Based on your notes, you can already tell it’s gonna be incredibly busy moving forward, and the thought suddenly makes your head hurt. But you push through, knowing there are more people to meet with, even with Chin-sun and Manager Lee entertaining half of them. 

Jungkook takes the stage again to introduce some of the artists whose works will be displayed in the Arts Center, and he gives them time to talk about their pieces and what drew them into the project. The company head who’s been contracted to create the products for the souvenir shop also speaks, and as they share, you feel the excitement heighten. The opening is still a long time from now but things seem so clear and so certain, and you know that was because of Jungkook - because he demands the same level of excellence he practices from others, because he’s committed to his vision and he makes sure to see it through. 

More engagement takes place, and your only breather is when Jungkook decides to talk to his father and then Hoseok but after that, you’re back to following him around and running out of calling cards for people to keep and call you in the future. 

The last of the remaining guests finally leave at 10PM. You look around and the art pieces are being carefully wrapped for transport. The panels remain but Do-hyun and Yohan will be returning in the morning to pack everything up. Slowly, you start to feel the soreness creep in and the headache intensify but you shake all the pain off. There are two more days left for the week and you just have to power through them to survive. 

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you home?” Chin-sun asks as she readies to leave.

“I live on the other side of the city from you. From all of you,” you remind them. It’s really the only reason why you don’t hitch a ride with them, especially considering that they have families and pets they go home to. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“What about Yoongi?” Jungkook asks, surprising you because you thought he’d been on the phone. “Can’t he drive you?”

“He left an hour ago, Mr. Jeon,” you reply. “He has that early morning flight to Jeju tomorrow.”

“Mr. Ri can drive you home after he drops me off,” Jungkook says. “It’s too late in the night and it might be hard for you to get a cab.”

“Okay, sir. Thank you,” you mumble, waving everybody goodbye as you follow him towards the car. 

You get inside and find him sitting in the backseat, his coat removed and his head rolled back. You can tell all the socializing drained his energy again, and you’d hate to remind him that there’s a Property Expo next week that his father assigned him to attend, as well as a Partners’ Fellowship Dinner where he has to deliver another speech. You decide to do so in the morning instead and let the soft sounds of the radio soothe your mind.

“I think tonight was a success,” he mutters, prompting you to turn towards him. “Everyone I spoke to seemed excited.”

“They were,” you affirm. “They wouldn’t be scheduling meetings with you if they weren’t.”

“That’s true,” he hums. “That’s one major event down and several more to go.”

“I hope the team was able to show you how well we work together, Mr. Jeon. And that like me, they’re all on your side.”

Jungkook lets your words settle. He agrees. The team was like a well-oiled machine. Each member knew their roles and performed their tasks excellently. And there was you, of course, handling every one of his instructions and requests with grace. You looked really beautiful doing it, too, and he doesn’t know if he wants to thank or curse Taehyung for designing another dress that makes you stand out from the crowd because that’s what happened tonight - everywhere Jungkook looked, it seemed like all he could see was you.

He shakes away the thought, knowing that constantly acknowledging his attraction towards you would just make things harder for him the way that denying it would, and while he doesn’t have a solution for that either, he supposes that not acknowledging it at all would be the best option. 

So he focuses on the team instead, and he feels comforted to know that they worked hard because they knew how much tonight mattered to him, as Do-hyun expressed earlier. 

“I’m glad they are,” he finally replies. “I… I still don’t think I’m their favorite person but as long as they don’t despise me anymore, then I’m satisfied with that.”

“They don’t,” you counter, although even you’d know that’s a half-lie.

“They do. Or did, at least,” he laughs dryly. “It’s easy to stay unnoticed outside of the team’s office, you know?”

The tinge of sadness in his eyes confirms what you’re thinking - he’s heard some of the team conversations about him. And while you’d argue that they’re not vile or anything close to that, you also know that talking about him not smiling or not expressing his gratitude are things you shouldn’t be saying behind his back. Even if they’re true.

“I”m so, so sorry, Mr. Jeon. We–”

“It’s okay, it’s not a big deal,” he interjects. “I mean, it’s not like I haven’t given you reasons to feel that way. You all did go from Hoseok to me and that’s quite the downgrade in terms of camaraderie and stuff.”

“We still didn’t have the right to say those things. And no, I’m not agreeing that you’re a downgrade,” you clarify. “Like you said, you and your cousin are very different.”

“I did. And that’s why I’m not surprised, is all I’m saying. But despite all that, the team did amazing tonight. Not like I’d expect they wouldn’t because they prefer someone more joyful or expressive, but it… it was also nice to see them enjoying themselves. I hope you did, too.”

“It was a memorable experience, Mr. Jeon,” you say. “It’s something new. The previous projects and events we handled were either residential or commercial in nature and our creativity wasn’t pushed as far as the Arts Center is doing. And we all appreciate that, even if we may not show it.”

“That’s good. At least there’s still something that you’re all getting out of this.”

There’s a sadness in his voice that you’re hearing for the first time. You don’t know what about tonight that’s making him vulnerable and honest with you. Perhaps it’s all the talk about human connection that he seems to struggle with, and maybe he’s realizing now that even with the team performing as well as they are, there’s still something lacking in soul and emotion that he thinks is because of him. 

Whatever it is, you hope that he doesn’t let it bring him down too much. Working closely with him, you’ve come to see more of him despite his efforts to keep those layers unpeeled and you’ve come to understand him a little more. You’ve forgiven him in the process, too. The team is still adjusting and you know it’s your job to bridge that gap. You’ll just have to figure out how. 

You let the silence end the conversation, not knowing what else you can say to comfort him at this moment. But you try though, as the car stops in front of his building and you call his name right before he closes the door.

“Yeah?” He asks, looking curiously at you. 

You almost forget what you’re about to say as he’s bent forward, his arm propped on the car roof, the surrounding lights highlighting the features of his face. 

“You did great tonight, too. And I learned a lot from you. Thank you for guiding us, sir.”

He’s left speechless, as he holds your gaze for a moment before nodding and closing the door. Mr. Ri drives away and you look back to see Jungkook walk slowly towards the building entrance, briefly looking your way before disappearing inside. 

You arrive at the office the next morning at 9AM with a splitting headache, your body dragging itself towards your chair as you try to maintain balance and get yourself together. Jungkook had messaged late last night that he was going to have a breakfast meeting with his father so you could go straight to work, and given last night’s late finish, you could come at a later time as well.

That gave you another two hours of sleep, which you were thankful for considering the terrible state you were in when you woke up. Your body felt sore and the dryness of your throat signaled that you’re about to get sick - it was just a matter of when it was going to fully kick in. It’s how your body reacts to stress, a pattern you noticed since you started working in the company. It’s usually after succeeding weeks of late nights and big events when you give in - the headaches start then the sore throat; not long after, the fever hits and you’d have to spend days just doing nothing until you’ve expelled the exhaustion away. 

On rare occasions, your mother or friends come, knowing you’d be too sick to make yourself some food. But they don’t always have that luxury. They have their own lives, too, lives that they just happen to have far away from you. But it’s why it mattered that you gave Jungkook that noodle soup when he was unwell. You know what it’s like to be sick and hungry and completely helpless, and you had a feeling that just like yourself, he’d deal with it on his own. You’ll probably have to stock up on food tonight to get you through the next few days; you just hope you haven’t completely fallen apart by then.

You take your medicines and try to focus on your tasks for this morning, scheduling meetings and screening photos from last night to be used for marketing purposes. Needing some tea, you head to the pantry and briefly check in with the team before heading back. You see that Jungkook has just arrived, as he accompanied his father to one of their project sites after their meeting. He calls you over and asks if Do-hyun and Yohan have come back from fixing things at last night’s venue.

“Yes, sir, they just got here,” you reply. “Everything’s been stored properly and Chin-sun’s working on the payments already.”

“Good,” Jungkook responds. “It’s lunchtime though, so you should all grab a meal. There’s a French restaurant that just opened a block from here. I heard it’s got great reviews, so take the team there and have them order anything they want. You can just use your card to pay but it’s under the office’s budget.”

“Okay, sir. Uhm, that sounds great,” you manage to say, excitement filling you because you spent the other night watching review videos of that restaurant on YouTube and immediately told Jimin and Soomin that you’ll be eating there when they visit you the next time. “What about you though? Aren’t you joining us?”

“I… Well…”

“You don’t have any other scheduled meeting other than the one we’ll have as a team at 2:30.”

“I don’t have to go,” he answers. “You all worked hard and deserve to enjoy yourselves and I don’t think that’ll happen if I’m around. We can all debrief during the meeting but lunch is your time to get together and bond as a group.”

“You’re part of that group, too, Mr. Jeon. You are our boss,” you counter.

“Exactly.”

“But Mr. Ju–” you stop, not wanting to draw another comparison, which you said you’ll stop doing.

“I know. Hoseok would join you for lunch or dinner and the team enjoyed his presence,” Jungkook states. “I don’t think that’s the case with me. This isn’t me putting myself down but… you know that I don’t really… do things like that. I’m still learning that part of the role and I don’t want to spoil their fun.”

“You can’t really speak for the team though,” you point out.

“Well, you represent them to me. Am I wrong to assume all that?”

“No, but I think it would be a good opportunity to prove to them otherwise,” you advise.

Jungkook sighs, knowing you’ve got a point. But he insists, claiming that he’s still figuring out the team and how to relate with them. 

“I understand, Mr. Jeon,” you concede. “How about your lunch?”

“I’ll manage. You can all go ahead so you can get back on time.”

“We will. Thank you. I already know they’re going to enjoy it.”

The team is ecstatic when you tell them about lunch plans. They also only wonder about Jungkook’s presence once they’ve ordered and perhaps they’re still figuring him out, too. Much of their engagement with Jungkook is through meetings, as none of them, save for Manager Lee, feel comfortable or even free enough to just approach him. They also don’t know much about his interests or his quirks, and that puts you in the same boat as them. 

You said once that you’re not sure if you’ve gotten used to him already. Maybe slowly you are, as you look around and wish that he was here to experience this, too. Somehow you just think he’d love the duck confit dish that you eventually order for yourself. Maybe you can let him know, and he can order it on his own time. 

Lunch ends with everyone on a high from the delicious meal. Even you forget how terrible you’re actually feeling and let the laughs and scrumptious food compensate for the fatigue. 

You get back to the office and head to Jungkook as the rest of the team prepares the conference room for the meeting. You see a half-eaten sandwich on his desk and hate to think that it’s all he had while you enjoyed a fancy lunch that he ordered you all to have. He seems to pick up your thoughts as your eyes flit from him to his food and he affirms you that he’s not that hungry, given the heavy breakfast he had this morning.

“How was lunch?” He asks. 

“It was great. The food was really good. I had the duck confit that I think you’ll like and… uh, they were asking where you were.”

“They were?” 

“Yeah,” you respond. “They were wondering why you didn’t join us.”

“What did you say?”

“That you were on a conference call,” you say. You didn’t like that you had to lie to them about it, but you also didn’t want to use that time to talk about Jungkook behind his back again. “Yohan said that it’s understandable; you’re always busy and he doubts you get a break while you’re here.”

“Oh. Well, he’s not wrong.”

“We had a good time though, and I’m sure they’ll tell you later but thank you. It’s nice seeing the team enjoy themselves. I wish you could see it, too.”

“Maybe one day,” he says sullenly, standing up right after to head to the meeting with you.

The room quiets down when you both arrive and Jungkook feels once more the shift in their disposition once he joins them. He can’t fault them for it knowing that’s because of him, but as time passes and the more he talks about the value of human connections - which the Arts Center aims to foster - the more he starts to think of exactly what he’s missing by keeping himself too far a distance from everyone else around him. 

His father tries, he can tell. Most of their breakfast or lunch or dinner meetings aren’t actually meetings, and he supposes it’s just his old man’s way of spending time with him by disguising it as something work-related, knowing that Jungkook wouldn’t be into it if it wasn’t. His mother asks him over to their house on some weekends for lunch, her own way of reconnecting with him after years of being apart, but even with that, Jungkook just gives the bare minimum. 

He doesn’t not like them; he just stopped being close to them at some point and he didn’t really care to mend it as he grew older. The women he sleeps with don’t count since he doesn’t even really talk to them, and other than Taehyung and Seokjin, and occasionally Yoongi, who keep up with his attitude, there really isn’t anyone else whom he thinks enjoys his presence enough to want to have him around. 

He doesn’t know about you though, but he makes an educated guess and thinks there’s not much of him you’d miss just like anyone, and while the thought stings a bit, it’s one he tries to live with.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jeon,” Manager Lee greets and implores the others to do the same. “Thank you again for lunch. It was really delicious and pretty fancy. I wish I’d worn a prettier tie than the one I have right now.”

“Your tie looks fine, Manager Lee,” Jungkook replies.

“Ms. Cho said you were busy, that's why you weren’t there,” Do-hyun boldly says. “Hopefully next time you can join us. I mean, not to assume you’ll treat us again, although that would be nice, but–” 

“Do-hyun just wanted to say thank you,” Chin-sun butts in. “And that we understand you have so many things going on, Mr. Jeon, so hopefully, when you have time in the future, you can join us for a meal, too.”

“That, uh, that would be fine, yes,” he mumbles, taking his seat and avoiding looking at everyone except you. “Let’s start the meeting.”

You’re there for over two hours, rehashing the entire process, given that it’s the first event out of many that the team organized. Jungkook is generous in complimenting everyone, including you, and he gives updates on the interest generated and all the artists he’ll be meeting in their respective studios as a result. 

The Ministry of Culture minister likewise pledged support, promising a linkage with the international media festival organizers like Jungkook had hoped. You’ve all accomplished so much in so little time, but the rest of the timeline shows that there’s still so much ground to cover. You plan the next steps and then spend half an hour talking about the other small projects that the VP’s office is managing before Jungkook adjourns the meeting and orders you all to head home to get some rest while he stays behind to work some more.

You follow him this time, trying your best to be stable as you take the bus home. You manage to buy some beef bone soup on the way for dinner, and once that’s all finished and you take a long hot shower to hopefully get rid of the stress in your body, you plop down on your bed and fall asleep with no warning at all. 

You wake up in the middle of the night, your clogged nose keeping you from breathing. With puffy eyes, you search for your eucalyptus inhaler and take your medicine before going back to bed and hoping that when you wake up, you’ll feel less terrible than you do right now. 

But you don’t, as you wake up to your alarm not long after and feel even worse. Your body is sore, your head feels heavy, and it’s a struggle to even turn to your side to try to pull yourself off the bed. Knowing there’s no way you’ll manage today, you call Mr. Ri and inform him that you’re unwell and can’t make it to work. 

“I can’t even type nor talk properly right now,” you tell him. “Can you–”

“I’ll tell Jungkook, don’t worry,” he assures you. “And just to remind you, you’re sick, okay? So stay in bed, don’t do chores or anything, and don’t think about work for even a second. You hear me? And update me on how you are.”

“Yes,” you cough out. “Thank you.”

You lie underneath the covers and hope to the heavens that more sleep would make you feel a bit of relief and it does, given that when your phone rings five hours later, you don’t feel like your head is splitting apart. 

“Good, you’re awake,” Mr. Ri says on the other end after you greet him. “Can you open your door?”

“Okay, just give me a few minutes. I’m exceptionally slow this morning.”

Mr. Ri laughs but tells you to take your time. You put on a hoodie over your gray sweatpants and briefly wash your face before opening the door. 

“Work’s got to you, huh?” He asks worriedly as he stands in front of you. “Is it bad enough to warrant a visit to the hospital? I can drive you there.”

“I’ll manage,” you mumble. “But what are you doing here, Mr. Ri? Mr. Jeon has a meeting in an hour.”

“I know. But he wanted me to give you this.”

The older man initially hands you a large paper bag but decides to just place it on your table given your weak state. He removes the containers of chicken noodle soup, rice porridge, and soybean sprout soup, boxes of soft bread, and a small jar of yuja marmalade for tea. 

“What–”

“Your meals for the next few days so you don’t have to worry about preparing them,” Mr. Ri says. “Jungkook wants you to focus on resting. He wants you to take Monday off, too.”

You look at him and suddenly feel like crying. You knew that waking up, you’d be worrying about what to eat, given that you barely have ingredients to work with. You also don’t have the energy to make anything, especially something that’d help with your health. Jungkook just relieved you of that, and at a time like today, you feel what it’s like to be cared for. And though you can argue with him using his own words - your health isn’t his responsibility - you won’t pretend that it doesn’t give you comfort knowing that he’d made the effort to buy all this and have them brought to you. 

You talk a little bit more before he heads out, and you lead him to the door where you look across the street where the car is parked. Your eyes may be puffy but you don’t miss the silhouette behind that backseat window. 

“How is she?” Jungkook asks as Mr. Ri enters the car and slowly drives away.

“She looks like someone who’s been working hard these past months and in need of rest. She says it’s normal but this is probably the worst. These few days off will be good for her.”

“I hope so, too.”

“She’s thankful for the food, Jungkook,” the older man says. “I know she’d probably say you didn’t have to but I could tell it meant a lot to her. She doesn’t always ask for help, you know? It’s good you’re somehow letting her know that she can count on you when she needs you. If this is you making it up to her, you’re on the right path.”

Jungkook hums in acknowledgement, although unsure what it means for him. Is it to compensate? To apologize again? To return the favor because you’d done it first? Is it to let you know that he has your back, too, the way you’ve been showing him that you have his? 

He’s alerted by a message, your name on his screen somehow making his heart jump. It’s a text message and not one from the usual messaging app you both use for work purposes because, well, that’s really the only thing you talk about.

[From: EA Cho] Thank you, Jungkook. I really appreciate it.

It’s the use of his name. It’s the sincerity in your simple words. 

He smiles to himself. 

Whatever it means to you, he knows it means another thing to him. He doesn’t want you to feel alone. And that in the coldest nooks of his uncaring heart, he actually does care for you. For this moment, he’ll acknowledge it. For this moment, he’ll let himself feel it. He can only hope you feel it, too.

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[heart-of-the-morningstar]

✨Dress Up, Part 2: The Ceremony✨

Well well well, looks like you guys won. You get a continuation of this fic that was meant to be a one shot lmao! I had some awesome people to bounce ideas off of and I couldn't do this without them. I hope you enjoy this chapter, it's time for the wedding! But you know I can't go a chapter without writing a little smut hehe~

*** - Scene change ~~~ - Flashback

Lucifer x f!sinner reader

Summary: It's wedding day! And Lucifer is more than willing to try and convince you to the leave the reception early...

Warnings: 18+, smut, hand job, oral (m receiving)

"You know, if you don't quit your pacing back and forth, you're gonna wear out the carpet..."

***

It had only been a week since the proposal and the wedding was already here. But this is what you both wanted; a nice quiet wedding with only a handful of people with everyone else in Hell being none the wiser. You had to beg Lucifer for the week you got in between, he was practically ready to say "I do" once he put that engagement ring on your hand. It may have seemed like you two were moving a little bit fast considering most weddings take months, sometimes years to plan out! But when you're marrying the King of Hell, there really was next to nothing to worry about when it came to your special day.

The new hotel was the perfect venue, complete with a beautiful ballroom that could rival any chapel on Earth. The guest list was extremely exclusive consisting of only the occupants of the hotel, minus one Radio Demon, not that he would attend even if he was invited. It was Charlie who suggested that he protect the hotel today from any threat that might make itself known. On top of that, Charlie was more than happy to be the officiant, as being the Princess of Hell granted her that authority. Money was no object to the Morningstar family, so no expense was spared.

But regardless of any of that, Lucifer couldn't help but worry. You had one other request for him after he popped the question.

~~~

"I hate to ask more of you after asking for a week to prepare," you started, putting on the last of your clothes that you had discarded during your fun little teasing display, "but..." Lucifer approached you suddenly and held your hand in both of his.

"My love, you can ask of me anything you wish. There is no limit when it comes to you. You've already given me the best gift of becoming my future bride. Anything in my power is yours for the asking, you just name it!" He leaned down and planted a small kiss on the back of your hand. You couldn't help but blush, he never failed to charm you.

"This may sound a little odd, considering what just took place a few minutes ago," you breathed out a sigh, "but...what would you say to refraining from any...intense intimacy?" Lucifer cocked his eyebrow and smirked, seemingly intrigued. "B-but only for this week, I promise! Kissing and cuddling would still be on the table, of course. And no deliberate teasing from me, that wouldn't be fair. I was just thinking that...I want our first night as a married couple to be special. And I figured holding off for the time in between would only heighten the experience. If that's not something you want, I completely understand that-MMPH," you were silenced by Lucifer's soft lips on yours.

"Oh darling, was that all?," he flashed his signature toothy grin at you. "That's hardly a request! I think that's a wonderful idea...n-not that I don't want to ravish you at any given time! But you're right, I couldn't imagine a better honeymoon than getting the chance to feel you again after being denied for a few days, even though it may feel like an eternity. I'll be on my best behavior; you have my word!"

~~~

And Lucifer was on his best behavior, for the most part, at least. There were a few instances where his hands had traveled a little too low on your body and some kisses became deeper than they should have. But both of you managed to make it through the week! But today was the day, and his anxiety was at an all-time high. You decided to sleep in separates rooms the night before, wanting the next time you saw each other to be at the altar. That was the plan, at least.

It had been a while since Lucifer had slept alone. Suffice to say he couldn't sleep. He assured you that he would be alright sleeping alone for just one night, but that ended up being easier said than done. The empty bed he laid in brought back painful memories of his first night without Lilith, something that still haunted him to this day. There would be times where Lucifer would wake up in a cold sweat, only to glance over to see you peacefully asleep, and he could breathe again. Anytime you felt him tug you closer to him in the middle of the night, you knew what had woken him up. He never hid his feelings from you when he confided in you about his ex, and you didn't mind that he would wake you when his nightmares overwhelmed him. You loved him and he loved you. You would never leave. So when you heard your door creek open in the middle of the night to see your fiancé standing ion the door frame, you only smiled and gestured him to you.

~~~

"I-I'm sorry," he sobbed quietly, "I tried...I really did...I-I had a dream, a nightmare, you were there but you started to fade away in front of me. I reached out but it was no use. I woke up and…and you weren’t there, I panicked…I’m so s-sorry…”

"Hey, hey, shh, it's alright," you soothed and brought him into a tight embrace. You felt a tear that had fallen from his face make its way down your collarbone. "Don't cry, Luci, I'm not upset, not at all." You lifted his head up to wipe away his remaining tears. "Let's get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow." You planted a kiss on his forehead, and from the dim red light that shown through your windows, you could see a small smile appear on his face. He laid down, his back facing you as you wrapped your arms around him and brought him flush to your chest. You could hear his breathing start to even about again.

"I don't deserve you," he murmured.

"You know I think the same thing every day," you respond.

He interlaced his fingers with yours at your words, squeezing you hand softly. "Promise me you'll never think that again. Please. You deserve everything and more."

"Alright," you conceded, kissing the back of his head, "as long as you promise me the same thing. You're my everything, and I'll spend the rest of my afterlife showing you that."

"Okay," he spoke weakly. You intertwined your legs with his, bringing yourself as close to him as possible. "I still intend to keep my other promise. I'll be gone before you wake up."

"You can stay as long as you need to," you whispered before drifting off to sleep once more.

~~~

True to his word, Lucifer had managed to sneak away before you woke. After adorning his typical attire, he found himself wandering the halls of the hotel, finally stopping when he reached the lobby. Thinking he was alone, Lucifer started talking to himself and paced back and forth like a madman.

"Was this a mistake? Are we moving too fast? No, no, no it's alright, it's fine! We're fine! Get a fucking GRIP, Lucifer! You're panicking for nothing! She loves you...right? Yes, yes of course she does! Why would she say yes to you?! Unless...NO! No, none of that! Relax! Need to relax..."

"You know, if you don't quit your pacing back and forth, you're gonna wear out the carpet," Husk remarked, attempting to get Lucifer's attention in his anxious state.

"WHAT THE-" Lucifer shrieked hearing the bartender's voice. After seeing Husk standing behind the bar, he breathed out a sigh of relief and clutched his hand to his rapidly beating heart. "Geez, warn a guy next time!" Husk huffed and returned to cleaning the whiskey glass he held in his hand. "How, uhh, how much of that did you hear?"

"Enough to know that you're a fucking mess right now," the cat demon replied, setting down his now clean glass. "Perhaps you need a bartender to talk to."

"Uhh, alright?" Lucifer made his way over to the bar and took a tentative seat on one of the stools.

"This is about your girl, ain't it?" Husk correctly guessed, "about the wedding?" Lucifer sighed and nodded. "Mhmm. You love this gal, don't you?"

"Yes, of course I do!" Lucifer answered almost defensively. "She's...my everything!"

Husk picked up another dirty glass to clean. "And has she given you any reason to doubt that she feels the same way?"

Lucifer huffed. "Well, I...no, no she hasn't. She's always been there for me. Listening to my ramblings, making me laugh, consoling me during the worst times, like last night...she's...she's just perfect!"

"So what's the holdup?" Husk asked after setting the other glass down.

"It's not as simple as you're making it out to be, Husker," Lucifer retorted, pushing his way back from the bar. "I loved Lilith with all of my heart and soul. And she said...that she loved me too. But then one day, she was just gone. Vanished. We fell together. We built a life here TOGETHER! And she just leaves? It's like the last 10,000 years together meant absolutely NOTHING!" Lucifer ran his hands through his hair, trying to keep his composure. "I-I can't lose her like like I lost Lilith. I just can't! I just want to be enough for her. I don't know what I would do if she...", he couldn't finish his sentence. He sat back down at the bar, resting his head in his arms. "The pain would break me..."

The sound of a glass sliding across the counter top caught Lucifer's attention. When he lifted his head, he noticed a full glass of scotch sitting next to him. "Calms the nerves," Husk spoke. Lucifer let out a deep breath and took a swig, choking slightly in the process not realizing how strong it was.

"Not much of a drinker," Lucifer admitted, setting the glass down.

"Sir, if I may..." Husk began.

"You can call me Lucifer," the angel smiled slightly.

Husk smirked. "Lucifer, all I can tell you that love is a vulnerable emotion. I understand that you're afraid. Afraid that history will repeat itself, that your love is not meant to be, and that you're going to end up alone all over again." Lucifer's face sunk, lowering his head against his arms once more. "But," Husk continued, "I know one thing for sure. That girl up there ain't Lilith."

Lucifer raised his head, now hanging onto every word from the bartender.

"If anybody thinks you aren't enough, that's their own fucking problem. And I can tell you that your girl ain't like that at all. She adores ya, can't get her to shut up about ya! Hell, I couldn't even tell you why she ended up down here in the first place! Another one of Heaven's fuck ups, for sure. But for your sake, I'm glad she did." Husk reached over and gulped down Lucifer's unfinished glass of scotch. "Be a shame if it went to waste."

Lucifer let out the smallest of laughs. "Thank you, Husker. And you're right, even in this God forsaken pit, she manages to make it just a little bit brighter. She saved me. And I'm going to devote every moment of my immortal life to her."

"Good to hear. Now..." Husk slammed his hand down on the counter, "get your shit together and go get ready! You got a wedding to attend."

*** You startled awake with the sound of knocking at your door. Your mind was still foggy, brief memories of last night flooded through your head. "Lucifer?" you sat up and looked around your room, but he was already gone, leaving you alone in an empty bed. He had kept his promise after all. There was another set of knocks at the door. "Coming!" you shouted as you ran to grab the robe you had left on the armchair. You opened the door to see Charlie bouncing giddily.

“Good moooorrrrnnniiiinnnngggggg~” she practically sang. “Did you sleep well? Are you ready for your big day?? Are we forgetting anything???” She rapid fired questions at you while you were still rubbing the crust from your eyes.

“Charlie, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re more excited than I am,” you joked, gesturing her to come in. “In order: Yes, I slept…well. Yes, I’m ready...mentally speaking. And no, we’re definitely not forgetting anything. You’re the most meticulous and thoughtful person I know, you definitely have everything planned to a tee! You practically leapt out of your skin when we asked if you would officiate.”

"Aww, thank you!" Charlie smiled as she skipped into your room. "And of course! I would never turn down such an opportunity! Being the princess of Hell does have its perks! You can never be too prepared, ya know? Especially for a day that's so wonderful and magical and full of love!" You saw tears welling up in her eyes out of pure joy.

"Hey now, I thought I was the one that was supposed to be crying today!" you joked.

"Right, right! Sorry!" She wiped the tears from her eyes and grabbed your hands excitedly. "Let's get your hair and make up done!"

Charlie dragged you over to the vanity and sat you down in the chair. You weren't one to wear much makeup typically, but Charlie insisted. And when Charlie asks for something, it's pretty much impossible to tell her no. So you obliged. But you made her promise that she would not go overboard, only the basics. Thankfully you showered the night before, so your hair just needed a good brush through. Charlie grabbed the hairbrush and began to comb through your hair, gently pulling out the knots out of the nasty case of bed head you were sporting. She truly was the kindest soul you've ever met. But that didn't stop you from feeling a little awkward.

"Charlie," you mumbled, "can I-oww...can I ask you something?"

"Yes, absolutely!" She grabbed the the already plugged-in curler and started working on adding some volume to your hair.

"Are...are you sure you're alright with this?" you asked timidly. "I mean...me and your father. I just don't want you to think I'm trying to, you know...replace your mother. I know I don't know much about her or your relationship but..."

Charlie put down the curler and kneeled down next to you, gently grabbing your hand. "You don't need to worry about that! I promise, it's alright with me. It's more than alright, actually! I haven't seen my dad this happy in a long, long time. He loves you so much! You wanna know how I know that? Because he tells me. Every single day. His eyes light up when anybody mentions your name! And I know you would never do anything to hurt him, or me. You're too kind and good hearted for that. I know it may feel like you're inserting yourself into the picture, but I'm more than happy to have you as part of our family! I know the love you have for my dad is genuine, and I wouldn't change a thing!"

A smile formed on your face. "Thank you, Charlie."

"Now," Charlie hopped up from the floor and grabbed the large make up bag sitting on the counter, “time to make magic happen! I have the perfect idea! Close your eyes and no peaking until I say so!”

*** You could feel your heart beating out of your chest as you stood in front of the closed ballroom doors. You knew just on the other side of that door was the love of your life, and he was waiting for you. Husk linked your arm with his, flashing you a warm smile. "You ready?"

You let out a few shaky breaths before you could answer him. "Y-yes."

"Don't worry, I gotcha," he comforted, "one step at a time, alright? Trust me, whatever you're feeling now, he was in much worse shape this morning. Nearly had to kick his ass to the altar myself. But I straightened him out for ya."

You could help but laugh. "Thanks, Husk. And thank you for walking me down. I know this isn't really a traditional wedding, but I appreciate everything you and everyone else have done for us."

"No thanks is necessary," Husk replied, "for what you do for Charlie and the hotel, it's the least I can do. You're a good one to be sure. And the King is damn lucky to have ya." You smiled and tightened your grip on Husk's arm as you heard the faint sound of music start to play on the other side. "It's time."

Without another word, the large wooden doors opened in front of you, and the music could be heard much more clearly now. The Bridal Chorus. Husk waited on your command as you took the first step. You scanned the room. You saw Vaggie and Cherri standing to one side, Angel off to the other, while Niffty skipped in front of you throwing a mix of flower petals and roaches. You noticed Charlie straight ahead of you in a lovely blue suit, a color you've never seen her wear before. You also took notice to the fact there didn't seem to be any organ in the room, despite the music that continued to play as you walked. You guessed it was some of Lucifer's magic. He really knew how to set the scene for the occasion.

Finally, your eyes found Lucifer. He looked at you as if you were the most angelic being he's ever laid his eyes on. You couldn't quite make out the details of his face yet, but you could tell that tears had begun rolling down his face. You saw his suit for the first time. A beautiful black velvet suit with embroidered gold detailing on the jacket. He looked like royalty.

Lucifer stared back at you, fighting every urge in his body to run to you and scoop you up in his arms. Your dress was immaculate. A stunning flowing sleeveless white dress adorned with fluffy scarlet feathers that were scattered across the skirt and completely covered the bodice. An homage to your future husband. You were only a few feet from him now. His smile could have lit the darkest of rooms. The tears continued to flow from his eyes, and you could feel tears threatening to leave yours as well.

"Deep breaths," Husk murmured to you before stepping to the side to join Angel. You inhaled deeply, holding your breath until you stood directly in front of Lucifer, only exhaling when he reached out and held your hands in his.

The music stopped. Your heartbeat was the only thing you could hear now.

Charlie cleared her throat. "Dearly beloved, we're gathered here today to join these two souls before us in holy matrimony. I understand that the couple have written their own vows." Charlie glanced your way and beamed. "Ladies first!" You smiled back at her then turned your full attention to Lucifer, staring lovingly and longingly into his eyes. You had spent the entire week practicing and memorizing your words for this very moment. You breathed in, and you breathed out.

"Lucifer, words cannot begin to describe how you make me feel. You have shown me so much compassion, understanding, care, and adoration that I had never experienced on Earth. My promise to you is that I will always stay by your side, I will never abandon you, and I will love you for the rest of my after life. You've changed my life for the better, and I will make sure that I do the same for you. You are my one true love, forever and always. I love you, my angel."

Lucifer pulled one of his hands away to wipe away the tears the refused to stop flowing. Angel pulled out a handkerchief and brought it over to him and began patting it across his cheeks. You looked at Charlie who had also started to cry. She quickly composed herself and turned towards her father. "D-Dad?" she squeaked out.

Once Lucifer was able to compose himself, he took hold of your hands once more. "My love, I have existed since before the dawn of creation. And in my thousands of years of existence, no one has brought me as much joy as you have. You came into my life suddenly, like a thief in the night, and stole my most precious possession. My heart. It is yours now, for eternity and even beyond. I promise that you will never know another day of sadness, of heartbreak, or of loneliness. My devotion to you is boundless and unfathomable and never ending. I am yours. I love you, my queen."

Razzle appeared in front of the two of you, displaying the silver wedding rings for each of you. You and Lucifer took your respective ring to to place on the other's hand.

"Lucifer," Charlie spoke through her sniffles "will you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife; will you love, honor, and cherish her, hold her up in the good times and the bad, for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do, forever," he answered, sliding the ring onto your finger.

Charlie turned and repeated the question to you.

"Yes, I do," you proclaimed, sliding the ring onto his hand in the same manner.

"By the power vested in me, as princess of Hell, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

You and Lucifer smiled at each other, no longer able to hold back any of your tears. Lucifer cupped your face and brought your lips to his for a tender kiss. You heard the cheers from the others in the room, and you definitely heard Angel whistle as your lips connected. When you pulled apart, something had caught your eye. Your rings were glowing. Magic in the form of golden dust surrounded each of them, swirling around the metal bands.

"What's this?" You asked Lucifer, who didn't seem alarmed at all.

He chuckled. "You're the new Queen of Hell, my darling. This magic is a symbol. It signifies that you are no longer bound by the rules that govern the sinners; you are bound to me. You have free reign to travel anywhere you wish, including the other rings of Hell. You're now one of the most powerful beings in the realm! But we can get into the finer details later; for now," Lucifer pecked your lips once again, "let's celebrate!"

After wiping away her excessive tears, Charlie cleared her throat. "Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to introduce to you for the first time ever, Mr. and Mrs. Morningstar!" The crowd cheered as you walked hand in hand with your husband back down the aisle.

"Who's ready to fucking PARTY?!" Cherri yelled behind you as you all made your way towards the bar in the lobby.

Drinks poured at the reception, everyone was cutting lose and having fun! You two had decided to partake in as many traditional reception activities as you could! Neither of you knew how you ended up with so much cake all over yourselves, but it was alright considering Lucifer easily snapped his fingers and both of you ended up back in pristine condition. You invited everyone to participate in the bouquet toss, but it was Vaggie who ended up with the flowers in the end. She absolutely failed to hide her blush from Charlie who was jumping for joy! But this next tradition was something Lucifer had really been looking forward to; the garter belt toss.

Ever the showman, Lucifer hiked up your dress to your thigh and rather than using his hands, he decided to use his teeth to pull the garment down. His head lingered near your thigh way longer than necessary, and you could Angel snickering as Lucifer dragged it down the length of your leg.

"Oh, you're gonna get it," you leaned down to whisper to him, hoping no one else could hear.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" Lucifer retorted with the garter belt still between his teeth.

To no one's surprise, Angel was the one to catch the belt once Lucifer finally tossed it.

The reception was going off without a hitch. Everyone was having the time of their lives getting plastered and gorging themselves on the enormous buffet Lucifer hand conjured up. You had changed out of your wedding dress into a new purple dress; the lavender one that you really liked that you had tried on a week ago before you got yanked out of the dressing room by a certain horny angel. Thankfully, you two were able to go back to the store the next day to properly purchase it. You and Lucifer were given your own large round table so you wouldn't have to sit at the crowded bar. Luckily for Lucifer, this gave him easy access to you. As the reception went on and with no one being the wiser, Lucifer's hand found your thigh once more, gliding it up ever so slowly before you shot him a knowing glance.

"What do you say we leave early," he proposed innocently, "I have a wonderful surprise for my new bride once we're on our honeymoon."

You playfully grabbed Lucifer's wandering hand and pushed it down towards your knee. "Luci, it's only been an hour! You can't tell me you can't wait just a little longer, can you?"

Lucifer stuck out his lip and pouted sweetly. "Oh, but my love, have you forgotten? It's been an entire week! And you know how well behaved I've been, I am nothing if not a man of my word." You felt his hand begin its ascent on your leg once more. You didn't stop him. "But I can only be a gentleman for so long..."

You didn't want to admit it, but you were in the same boat as well. That week apart had been almost tortuous. But you were more than willing to wait until the party was over. Your husband, however, appeared to have a different idea.

Alright then.

Before his hand could climb any higher, your hand shot down immediately to his crotch. Lucifer bit back a yelp as he felt you palm him through his pants. His hand stopped all motion, but instead started digging into your thigh, ultimately trying to remain calm. But that task seemed nearly impossible with the way your hand continued its ministrations, his pants feeling tighter and tighter with every passing second.

"D-Darling, please..." he begged through his clenched teeth.

You grinned wickedly. "You want me to take care of you, Luci?" He nodded his head vigorously. "We're not leaving early. But, I'll help you out as a good wife should, yeah?" Lucifer panted, his nails now dangerously close to breaking through your skin. "Head to the restroom just down the hall. Give me a minute and I'll follow you. I'll knock three times to let you know it's me. I have a plan. No touching yourself, understand?"

"Y-Yes," he breathed. When he was sure no one was looking, he stood up from his chair as fast as possible before making his way down the hall. Once you saw him disappear around the corner, it was time to give yourself some cover.

"Angel!" you yelled across the room, waving your hands to flag him down. The spider demon turned his head and smiled. He said something inaudible to Cherri before making his way over to you.

"Hey there, pretty lady!" Angel bent over and folded is first pair arms on the table, "Congratulations on the new gig! Being Queen of Hell sure is a status boost!"

"Yeah, I still need time to process that," you admitted. "So Angel, can you umm, do me a favor?"

Angel stood up and slicked his hair back. "Oh, anything for the new member of the royal family! What can I do ya for, doll face?"

You let out a shaky breath. "Can you...how do I say this...cause some sort of distraction?" Angel raised an eyebrow. "I just need to take care of something real quick."

"Uh huh," Angel chuckled, "you need to take care of something? Or someone?~" You pursed your lips, a light blush dashed across your cheeks. You really should have known better than to try and tiptoe around your means of leaving with Angel. "That's what I thought. Don't think I didn't notice the King almost sprint out of here just now. Man is absolutely smitten with ya! But you'll get no judgement from me, baby, I know how it is! Consider this your wedding gift, I typically end up being the most distracting person wherever I go! How much time do you need?"

"Five minutes?"

"Oh honey, I think you're giving him way too much credit, especially considering the state he's in." Angel laughed, "I can give you three."

"Four."

"Deal," Angel stuck a hand out for you to shake. He was ready to turn away when he flashed you a wink. "Get ready!"

As soon as you heard Angel shout loud enough to grab everyone's attention, you got up from the table and followed Lucifer's path down the hall. Once you stood in front of the restroom door, you knocked on it three times just as you said you would. It took less than a second for the door to swing open and for Lucifer to pull you inside. He locked the door behind you and crashed his lips into yours. You pushed him up against the door as you slipped your tongue further into his mouth. He was devouring you as his hands gripped your hips.

"We don't have a lot of time," you said breathlessly, "we have four minutes."

"How did-HHNG," Lucifer wanted to question until you began to palm at his now very apparent erection through his pants again.

"Let's just say I owe Angel big time." You started to fumble with Lucifer's belt, pulling it off of his pants with a quick flick of your arm. Your hands worked at the button and zipper of his pants next, going almost too fast for you to properly hold anything. You gripped the hem of his pants and boxers and were about to pull them down together until Lucifer grabbed your wrists.

"Wait, wait! What about you?" he asked. Even in such a lust filled state, he still only ever thought about you. God, you really hit the jackpot.

You gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I appreciate it hon, but we really don't have the time to argue about this. Four minutes, remember? Probably closer to three now." You pulled your hands away from Lucifer's grip and went back to the hem of his pants, pulling down his boxers in the process, finally freeing his hardened cock that was already leaking precum. You placed your hands on either side of his hips, his back flush against the door. "You better tell me what you want quickly, Luci."

Lucifer gulped hard, staring at you through half-lidded eyes. "T-touch me...please...n-need you..."

Without another word, you moved to stand at Lucifer's side as your one hand gripped his shaft while the other cupped his mouth to keep him from making too much noise. "Shh, gotta be quiet, my love. You don't want the others to hear how your queen makes you feel." He nodded his head silently as you began to stroke him. You watched as precum dripped onto the floor below; it was obvious how pent up he was. You quickly picked you the pace as your hand moved up and down his cock, thumbing over the tip only for Lucifer to mewl into your hand and buck up into your touch. His breathing became more and more staggered by the second, he wasn't going to last much longer at this rate. But you knew you were running out of time and your hands alone were not going to be enough to finish the job. "Not a sound," you commanded as you released your hand from his mouth, dropping to your knees in an instant. Before Lucifer could protest, your mouth had already full engulfed his length. He threw his own hand over his mouth to muffle his screams as best he could. Your head bobbed up and down rapidly on his cock while stopping every few seconds to lap circles around his tip. He was close.

"F-Fuu-uuccckk," he whimpered, "I-I'm g-mmph...gonna c-cum...shitshitSHIT!" And almost on cue, you felt him empty himself inside you. Strings of hot cum hit that back of your throat while you continued to suck him off, helping him ride out his orgasm. Once he was finished, you let his now softened dick fall from your lips, not letting a single drop leave your mouth. You gracefully stood up and grabbed his belt that you had flung earlier and handed it to him.

"Feel better?" you whispered in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

He turned his head to meet your lips once more. He always loved the taste of him on your mouth. "Immeasurably," Lucifer moaned into you.

"And only with a few seconds to spare!" Lucifer buckled his pants once more while you walked over to the sink and began soaking one of the wash cloths in cool water. You dabbed the towel on his forehead, attempting to cool him down. "Can't have you looking so disheveled, my king."

"I promise to make this up to you," Lucifer swore. "You should never be left unsatisfied."

You smiled and kissed him on the forehead sweetly. "My satisfaction is knowing I'm the only one who can pull those beautiful sounds out of you." Lucifer could help but look away from you in embarrassment. "Now, if you promise to behave for the rest of the party, let's just say I have a...proposition for you later tonight. I know exactly how you can pay me back." You unlocked the bathroom door and held it open for him. "Let's not keep our guests waiting!"

~~~

IT'S SO FUCKING LATE RIGHT NOW HOLY GOD I WAS ON A ROLL I DIDN'T WANT TO STOP! I hope you guys are ready for the honeymoon ;)

Taglist: @ask-theradio-demon @kermitdafroggy @thonethatflies620 @luc1fersducky @a-okay-rj @bat-boness @myhornybrainonlyknowsthis @misfitgirlwrites @animationmovieshipps @orbitinglumps @ramenkitten @blaackbiird @bigfatbimbo @lucisaspen @bvnnyangel @seulace9 @fluffypinkpillows @starlightdreaming @k-n0-x @rosen-und-mondlicht @raindropsfromheaven @slutforlucifermorningstar (I'm sorry if I missed anyone!)

[love-bitesx]

: ̗̀➛ PROTECTOR. hobie brown x reader

summary: spider-man makes a point of walking y/n home every night, but after befriending them as hobie brown as well, his feelings get complicated. words: 3.5k REQUESTS OPEN ! warnings: non-explicit sexual harassment (a man is very creepy to reader), reader isn't gendered! but be aware, author is female, so possible afab bias, i tried my hardest i swear. all characters are adults :) author is british so this is my interpretation of his silly little slang from what ive experienced hehe also divider credit: cafekitsune a/n: may feel a little ooc, but in my headcanon, when he's pining the way he is for reader, he's so soft. also, spider-man and hobie r completely different personalities u cant tell me otherwise. first time writing hobie so pls give me opinions ty. enjoy!!!!!

“is it home-time already, darlin’?”

there he was. the familiarity of routine washing over you, turning your head to see him propped up against the brick, spikes on display and guitar pick flipping in between his clothed fingers.

“spider-man, my hero,” you sighed and clutched your non-existent pearls, a smirk on your lips.

“you know i hate that,” kicking off from the wall of the pub you just clocked out of, he stuffed his hands into his patched up jacket, his bouncy stride meeting yours on the pavement.

“i know,” you smiled, allowing your bag to fall from your shoulders and into his outstretched hand, as always.

it had become a routine, over the course of a few months, that the one-and-only spider-man would escort you home from work in the late hours. at first, it didn’t seem real. why would he decide to spend valuable time most days walking you home, when he could be out fighting whatever darkness lurks in the shadows? you’ve asked him, almost every time, but he always gives the same, vague answer;

“who else is gonna keep you safe, love?”

his legs were longer than yours, by a mile. so he had to slow his usual pace for you. naturally bouncy, his booted feet tapped against the pavement like a kick drum, and you wondered whether that was the radioactive blood in his veins, or his natural energy.

laughter flittered through the dark streets as you caught up, it had only been a day since you last saw him, but being a crime-fighting, fascist-killing superhero, there was quite a lot to pack into a 24 hour day.

he bounced off the walls of passing buildings, recreating his fights with the air that hung between you both, throwing in some exaggerated punches here and there, to elicit an extra giggle or two from you. you almost got lost following his animated recreations, but he kept an eye out for the roads ahead. he’d memorised all the paths leading to your apartment.

it had all started a few months prior, after a particularly long shift at work. constantly over the span of a few hours, this guy would not leave you alone. no matter how many times you refused his advances, a smile on your face, masking the unsettling pit in your stomach at the sight of his grin. drink, after drink, after drink, he ordered just to stare at you the whole night, crude gestures and words thrown your way.

you’d gotten used to it, working at a pub in the depths of london, it wasn’t ever unusual to get unwanted advances. but something about this guy, you couldn’t shake it. ~

“what time do you finish, ay?” his accent was thick, you placed him somewhere up north.

“i’m not sure,” you muttered back, forcing a smile.

“oi, come on! ‘course you know what time you finish,” his words were slurred, and his eyes hadn’t left yours once, “was thinking we could ‘ave some drinks together, tha’s’all.”

“sorry, i can’t tonight, i have to be up early tomorrow,” you giggled, and if he wasn’t so drunk, he’d definitely have picked up on the nerves lacing your words.

“come on,” vowels drawn out, he made an attempt to stand up to meet your height, the proximity of him sending a shock of fear to your heart, until a strong hand clapped against his chest, the force almost sending him backwards.

“pack it in, dickhead, they said ‘no’,” a deep, almost calming voice spoke, contrasted completely with the stern, threatening tone of his words.

you looked to meet your protectors gaze, and it almost stunned you. he was tall, taller than you, for sure. dark, smooth skin with an aura of pure mayhem, silver piercings protruding from his face. adorned with a ripped, skin-tight plain top and denim vest, littered with badges, patches and just about any accessory known to man.

his eyes were what really held you. a heavy look, dark brown with the most unique feeling of strength and power that you’d ever seen. you could’ve easily gotten lost.

deciding you’d stared at him long enough, though, you broke the eye contact, diverting it back to the man who looked a humorous combination of terrified and offended at the same time.

“‘s alright mate, we were just talking, back off, yeah?” his liquid courage built up, ignorant of the taller man’s hand still pushing against his chest, ring-clad hands seeming to leave an imprint.

“think it’s time for you to leave, mate,” he spat back, mimicking his slang.

a moment of silence followed. you’d fully expected the drunken creep to swing a punch, or at least bite back, but under the weight of the taller man’s stare, he seemed to lose all fight he had in him. with a final murmer of something you couldn’t quite hear, and unsure you really wanted to, he stumbled backwards, slipping into the crowd.

“thank you,” you broke the silence, to which the man shrugged.

“he was a pig,” he brushed it off like nothing, and you couldn’t help but smile at his attitude. raising his newly free hand, he stretched it towards you, tight in a fist.

“hobie, hobie brown,” he greeted, and his accent completely erased the ‘h’ from his name.

“y/n l/n,” you smiled, accepting his offer and spudding him, the cold metal of his rings against your knuckles. you couldn’t help but grin at the oddity of his presence.

hobie kept you company for the rest of the night, ranting about his thoughts and opinions of various important subjects, ranging widely from drinks of choice to the existence of capitalist propaganda in modern media, all of which you hung onto every word of.

it wasn’t long until he’d managed to book him and his band into a few slots on the pub’s makeshift stage that stood empty on the other side of the room, smiling to himself at how authentically excited you seemed to hear his music.

when he left, his vacancy was immediately obvious. the booming pub feeling oddly silent without him.

after closing up for the night, you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, switching the lights off with one hand and fiddling with the keys in the other, shaking the door to double check you locked it well enough. body aching from being on your feet all day, you yawned, stepping autopilot into the darkness. the night air was chilling, causing you to wrap your jacket tight around your body. cursing at yourself for not bringing another layer, or pre-ordering a taxi home.

“oi,” you heard from your right, turning quickly to the familiar call.

stumbling on the pavement, the drunken creep from earlier pointed towards you.

shit.

you hadn’t expected him to actually wait for you. it’d been hours since he left, he was insane. what was he thinking?

grabbing the keys from your pocket, you gripped them in your freezing hands in defense.

“where’s your little friend, huh?” he spat, clearly enraged by hobie’s interruption earlier. he stepped closer, and you stepped back, trembling as you tripped slightly on the pavement.

“ay, is this twat bothering you?” a voice called from above.

wait, above?

craning your neck up, you made eye contact with possibly the last person you expected.

“spider-man?”

and from that night, he’d met you every time. waiting outside the pub doors, no exception, to walk you home.

“hey!” spider-man’s upbeat calling snapped you instantly back to him, jumping slightly as you finally noticed he was directly in front of your face, white eyes narrowed on your demeanor, “where’d you go, huh?”

“sorry,” paying him an apologetic smile, “just thinking.”

“wanna clue me in, darlin’?” his tone was playful, but the soften of his masks expression felt genuine.

“just thinking about the day i’ve had,” you lied, unsure whether his spidey senses could tell. not that it was rare for you to think about how you met, but you didn’t want to bring it up again. if he could tell, he didn’t let on.

“whataboutit?” he sped up, slipping back to your pace and slinging his lanky arm over your shoulders, basically hanging onto you as you walked. he liked walking with you like this. it made him feel powerful, like he was keeping you extra safe.

“hobie’s band played again!” you exclaimed, and if he’d been paying attention, he would’ve seen the way your face lit up at the memory. unfortunately for him, his eyes were trained on webbing a chocolate bar from a passing vendor. god knows why it was still open, but he was glad it was.

“hobie, again, huh?” taunted spider-man, punching your arm playfully with the fist that gripped the newly stolen snickers bar, “starting to think you’re replacing me, love.”

“never,” you teased back, elbowing his side, hearing the jingle of his badged vest, “hobie’s just…”

ears pricking, he clung onto the words you were speaking, anticipating possibly hearing something he didn’t want to.

“he’s just so cool,” you breathed with a smile, and he almost verbally sighed in relief, stopping himself in order not to rouse suspicion. he smirked under his mask, “just got this feel about him, so easy to talk to, and he’s so talented! you know, i’ve almost learnt all the lyrics to his songs.”

his heart just about exploded. in fact, he thinks he could pinpoint the exact moment it did.

he played off his burning cheeks, clearing his throat and incredibly glad his mask hid his flustered expression.

“you should come see him, you know,” you looked up at him, and though you knew his answer was ‘no’, it was worth a try, “i can hide you in the back if you don’t wanna be seen.”

“come off it, love,” he dismissed, avoiding your gaze, but his back was tingling like pins and needles under the warmth of it, “i’m not keen to meet the man stealing you from me.”

“fuck sake,” you laughed and pushed his arm off you, brushing off his playful flirting.

his confidence was excelling. the friendship you had formed over the prior months had stemmed from his childish charm, and it hadn’t faltered once.

“well, here i am,” you brought your pace to a halt, hovering in front of the door to your apartment building.

“i’ll miss you tonight,” he fell against the wall, eyes stuck on you. you couldn’t see it, but you could feel his smirk.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, i finish at 11,” you stepped towards him.

“i’ll be waiting,” he kicked off from the bricks, raising his hand to ruffle your hair, much to your protest, before practically disappearing in front of your eyes.

you were left grinning to yourself, much like every night.

“what’s up, bruv?” hobie’s friend elbowed him harshly in the ribs, causing him to rip his eyes from you.

“nothing,” he huffed, but by the lack of sustenance and playfulness in his reply, his friend was less than satisfied. hobie was a carefree, reckless guy with a constant spurt of irony, and seeing him with a sullen expression and no bite back, was worrying.

“come off it, hobie,” another one piped up, sitting across from him with an empty pint in one hand and cigarette in the other, pointing the latter in his face. he huffed, “you’ve been slumping for like 3 months now, and you’ve only been writing sappy love songs.”

the table snickered, and even hobie’s lips curled into a smirk. his friend was right, he wasn’t even nearly like his usual self. he blames you for that.

“who is it then, huh?” his friend pushed, cigarette still hanging in front of hobie’s face, ash crumbling off the end, “has our ol’ hobie brown got himself a partner?”

“oi, you know i hate labels,” he smirked again, knowing he was lying. not that he didn’t usually hate them, but he couldn’t avoid the fact that every time you made your way to the front of his mind, he was urged to call you his. his partner. his person. his love. just his.

he always did hate consistency, anyway.

“another round, guys?” your voice ripped him from his thoughts, your scent somehow drifting above the sticky smell of beer and cigarettes, he pinned that down to his spider abilities, but he’d be a fool to ignore that he had simply just memorised the aroma.

“please, darlin’,” hobie’s friends chirped up, grinning at you thankfully. he cursed the burning feeling in his chest.

“i could do you guys a deal,” you smirked playfully, and he looked up to meet your eyes. you looked beautiful tonight, like usual. he was fucked.

“if you lot give us a song, it’ll be on the house,” you smiled hopefully, taking note of their usual orders just incase they agree.

“sounds like a plan,” hobie reached his hand out to you, open for a handshake, to which you took. soft hands falling into his calloused ones, he couldn’t help but notice how nice it felt.

turning away, you left to get their usual set up sorted, feeling him still watching you, to which you threw him a smile over your shoulder.

it wasn’t unusual at all. his eyes would always find you. at the table with his mates, his gaze would swim through the crowd to yours. even on stage, lost in the moment with himself and his guitar, it was you he always found his eyes trailing back to. it wasn’t like the other men in the bar, it wasn’t predatory desire or lust, but it was warm. it was safe.

he had three options, really; confess himself to you as hobie brown, coming clean about the way he felt about you, the warmth in his heart that spread across his spine whenever you smiled at him, eventually having to come clean about his alter-ego. he could confess as spider-man, to which he’d have to come clean about his actual identity. or option three. stay silent and suffer in his own pity. bite his lip and pretend his heart wasn’t yearning for you.

but, he prided himself in being able to speak his mind without hesitation. confident in his word, suffocated in his silence. he would always say: if he ever bit his tongue, to kill him there and then. well, here he is; begging for mercy at the barrel, his tongue bleeding from keeping his heart locked in his chest.

he was fucked. well and truly.

“anything special happen today?” spider-man nudged you, taking a worried note of your unusual quietness recently. it was the same night, he’d picked you up like normal, and hopped along beside you.

“the band played again,” a swelling smile bloomed on your lips, “other than that, not really.”

your voice was hollow tonight. easily mistakable with your naturally soft tone, but to his trained ears, it didn’t feel right.

stopping immediately in his path, his bouncy steps ceasing, you quickly copied him. confusion slipping behind your eyes.

“what’s up?” you questioned.

“you know you wanna tell me,” he stepped around you, arms falling over your shoulders from behind, heavy with his full weight. something about the mask, it gave him a confidence with you that he’d quenched as hobie.

you sighed and rested your head back against his chest, taking him by surprise. there was something intimate about the way your eyes were closed, body resting against him. your brain was hectic, he didn’t need his spidey senses to see that.

“there’s just…” you spoke, eyelids feeling heavy as you opened them, looking up to see him. head split in two, you were unsure if you even wanted to say it out loud, “there’s this guy.”

it was almost cruel how fast his heart dropped, plummeting like a boulder into the pit of his stomach. body stiffening, his head was spinning so fast he didn’t even have the conscience to mask it.

“i just can’t get him out of my head, it’s so stupid,” if your wistful look wasn’t answer enough, the outpour of dissonance he could feel from your body told him it was serious.

“not another fella tryna steal you from me,” he chuckled, but his voice was weak, vulnerable. you hadn’t heard it like that before.

untangling yourself from his weighted grip, you leant against the wall of the building you were stood in front of, staring up into the night sky. there was something so embarrassing about admitting a silly little crush.

“not another one, technically,” you spoke softly, a hint of a smile tickling your lips at the thought of him, he stepped closer, “i’ve already told you about him.”

and he stopped dead in his tracks. mind racing a million miles an hour, picking apart every word you said. was he stupid? was he reaching? seeing something that wasn’t there? he was the only one you’d spoken about, but surely not, right?

shifting closer again, his body begun to feel the heat radiating off you, barely an inch between you both. he towered you, as always, the spikes on his jacket and mask hitting the streetlights perfectly, giving him an orange glow. you bought yourself to look at him, and though you couldn’t see the eyes beneath, you felt his gaze.

insufferably close, closer than you’ve ever been, you could feel your heart in your chest. a tension that you hadn’t quite felt before, bubbling in the air between you.

“say his name, love,” his voice was low, lower than normal, and a twinge of familiarity hit your chest hearing the deeper tone, one you couldn’t quite pinpoint. chills dripped down your spine at the new found feeling.

gulping, you could feel his name in your throat, struggling it’s way out.

“hobie.” your voice was barely above a whisper, but considering he almost had you pressed against the brick, he heard every syllable. and god, did it sound good.

“again?” he croaked, just wanting to confirm, needing to hear it again, needing to hear you say it, relish in every beat.

“hobie,” you repeated, louder this time, more conviction in your chest, “i like him, like a lot.”

he went silent. dead silent, barely moving. heat radiated from him, and you could’ve sworn in the vacancy of sound that you could hear his heart pounding against his chest. reaching up, your hand trembling slightly, you placed it there. on his chest, feeling the material of his suit, the humanity of his heartbeat. he melted into it.

“are you o—“

“i need to tell you something.” he interrupted you.

it was your turn to be silent, eyes heavy with intrigue, begging him to continue.

without a word, his ring-clad hand ghosted your skin, drifting past the air between you and to the base of his mask, sliding along his neckline for the seam, and dragging it up over his face, revealing the man within.

your heart stopped, a thousand things flashing through your head, through your heart, surging in your bloodstream. you didn’t even know what to say, what to think, how to comprehend it.

“hobie?” your voice was small again, shrunk beneath the look in his eyes, the desire.

embarrassment waved through you for a moment, a sudden panic of the earlier confession, your chest pounding at the possible rejection.

he didn’t even leave the thoughts enough time to fester, however, because his hand that was holding his mask was suddenly flush against your jaw, the material falling softly onto your neck. thumb trailing the comfort of your cheek, revelling in the feel of your skin, warm against his hands, he leaned forward.

his lips were on yours, without a word. gentle, but rough. the tension escaping through the feeling of him pressed into you, desire leaping out of every shared breath. his other hand fell to your waist, and yours stayed firm on his chest, bunching the fabric in your hand to bring him closer. he obliged, of course, and the kiss deepened. his head spun.

pulling away for breath, you kept your eyes on his lips, disbelief swimming around your brain, colliding with the need to kiss him again.

“y/n,” his hand brought your eyeline to his, “i like you, too.”

you couldn’t help but smile, relief washing your body out.

“like, a lot.”

he kissed you again. and again.

a/n: hope u enjoyed!! pls let me kno if ur did, this is my first time writing for him <3 thanku!!!

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | end up here

a/n: i'm going FERALLLLLLL over this chapter. enjoy poisoned mercury's debut album hehe.

iv. end up here by 5sos

series masterlist | previous | next

“your band name doesn’t even make any sense,” you argued, eyes narrowing at the boy in front of you. 

luke crashed your secret spot, again, and refused to let you smoke in silence until you gave him a detailed explanation of how your day went. he knew you didn’t smoke every day, only on days that were particularly hard. he noticed that your bad days always had something to do with your dad, but it didn’t feel like the right moment to bring that up. 

anyway, you got fed up with his badgering and that stupid smirk on his face because he knew you were about to crack, and decided that if he was going to act like a toddler, you would too. hence, why you were now bringing up his band name. 

luke took offense to that because he thought the band name was cool. he was the one to suggest it. he crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to let his hurt show on his face, “what do you mean? poisoned mercury is a sick name.” 

“mercury is already poisonous. your band name is like redundant or some shit.” 

“then why did so many people in history ingest it?” luke asked, recalling the one thing he remembered from his high school history class before he dropped out. he took a drag from his cigarette, turning his body a bit so the wind didn’t blow the smoke directly in your face. 

“they fucking died, castellan,” you replied, deadpan. 

“oh,” he blinked, staring off, “i didn’t know that.” 

you rolled your eyes, a habit that you’ve picked up whenever you were with him and sat back down on the bench. luke joined you, silent as he thought about what you just said. he really needed to stop zoning out during lessons, but since he was already out of high school, he guessed it didn’t matter anymore. 

as much as you hate to admit it, luke castellan was growing on you. sure, he got on your nerves like nobody else– the boy just doesn’t quit– but, he wasn’t half as bad as you originally thought. not that you’d ever tell him that though. 

when you got back to the cabin last week after helping with concert prep, the cabin was spotless. there were no empty red bull cans in sight, the table tops were free of crumbs, floor vacuumed and mopped, and there was even a candle burning on the counter. you approached your bedroom door to find a post-it on the handle. luke’s messy writing was smudged around the corners, but you could still make out what it said. 

“five star, 

i snitched on the boys and my mom will have a stern talk with them about their cleanliness. can’t promise that people will stop talking about me, but i can promise you won’t have to live in the dojo casa house mojo or whatever it was. 

ps i’m using the spot tomorrow, just thought i should let you know. maybe we can set up a calendar for reservations. 

luke :)” 

the cabin hasn’t been as messy since. whatever may castellan told the boys worked like a charm. there was still the occasional trash, but nothing crazy. it smelled better in the cabin too, still like a boy, but it smelled like expensive cologne more than anything. cedarwood and pine. 

and thankfully, the luke castellan hype train was starting to run out of steam, with many people finally realizing that he was also just a human being and the surprising revelation that luke castellan was not entertaining anyone during his time at camp helped with it as well. you still heard whispers about him here and there, but you were glad the topic of conversation was beginning to switch to something else. 

you and luke walked to the gym and back home every morning together. he and the boys sat with you and clarisse during meals. they tagged along for music lessons and spoke to the kids, which they really appreciated. they helped the older campers with writing music, luke particularly. you’d been around a few musicians in your life and many of them only kissed ass when your dad was around, but poisoned mercury was different. they were passionate about their music. that was clear.

after a conversation with clarisse, where she managed to convince you that not all musicians are like your ex, you began to let loose a little bit. you hung out with the boys more, partly as an excuse so clarisse could hang out with chris without causing too much suspicion, and found that you actually enjoyed their company. and luke castellan? well, he wasn’t half bad. that doesn’t mean he got off easy though. 

you took a hit of your vape, facing him, “are you done interrogating me?” 

“for now, yeah,” he smiled as you shook your head. “are you coming to the concert tonight?” 

“well, i did help organize it.” 

“a simple yes would’ve sufficed, five star,” luke teased, relighting his cigarette. it was burning unevenly and luke was never one to waste his cigarettes. “you gonna watch us play?” 

“don’t have a choice. dad wants me there the whole time.” 

“you can act a little excited,” luke ran a hand through his curls, “we are pretty good, you know.” 

“i know,” you hummed. the sun was beginning to set and there was a slight breeze in the air. goosebumps formed on your skin, the t-shirt and denim shorts you wore didn’t offer much comfort. you shivered, “i have listened to your music.” 

“are you cold?” 

your teeth chattered, but you shook your head, “i’m fine.” 

luke took off his hoodie, tossing it in your direction, “take it.” 

“no,” you tossed it back to him, “told you i’m good.”

always so stubborn, luke thought.  

“if you catch a cold, that’s not on me,” he placed the hoodie on the bench between the two of you. “which songs have you listened to?” 

“kilby girl, of course. it played on the radio so much when you guys first dropped it,” you said, remembering the days where you and your hometown friends would blast it in the car. it reminded you of high school, reckless decisions, life-long memories, and the thrill of knowing you were going to be playing the sport you’d worked so hard to excel in at a d1 level in the fall. you looked at him, sincerity in your eyes, “i really like family line. it might be my favorite.” 

luke’s eyebrows shot up. not many people talked about family line. it was probably their least streamed song. they never performed the song on tour because it was difficult for luke to sing it. it was a personal song to him. it was inspired by his relationship with his father, or lack thereof. 

when poisoned mercury first got signed to olympus records, luke sent a message to his dad on facebook. luke hadn’t tried to contact him since he was ten, not since his father returned his letter to him unopened, no response but a “return to sender” stamp plastered over the envelope. but after the small congratulatory party his mom set up for the band after they signed, luke felt like a little kid again, a kid who wanted to share the great news with his dad, so he found his dad on facebook, made an account, and sent him a message. 

he didn’t get a reply, which was expected, but it felt good for a second to pretend that he had a father to tell his good news to. luke thought he didn’t care about whether or not his dad was proud of him, but when his message went from “sent” to “read” a few days later, he was brought back to those moments in his life when he cried and wondered why he wasn’t enough to make his dad stay. he wrote family line in one sitting, on his bed in his bedroom in connecticut, looking at the little league medals on his wall that seemed to mock him. 

he originally didn’t want it on the album because he felt like it didn’t fit the vibe of the rest of the songs and that it was too real, too vulnerable for a debut album, but then he played it for his mom and she loved it. she cried when she first heard it and luke knew that even if people didn’t like the song, he was going to put it out for his mom. 

“huh,” he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, “wasn’t expecting that one. thought you’d be more of a crash my car type of girl.” 

“i like that too,” you shrugged, “but family line. that song. i don’t think i have the words to describe it.” 

“thanks, five star,” luke looked down at his feet, taking a puff from his dying cigarette. “that’s my mom’s favorite, too.” 

“did you write it?” 

luke nodded, looking to face you. there was a new expression on your face, one that you’d never used with him before. it was a mix of disbelief and awe. he tried not to get offended that you didn’t think he could write something like family line, but he couldn’t blame you. he didn’t really portray the type of person who would be able to be that raw and vulnerable on a song. “me and trav write the lyrics for our songs, mostly. chris and connor help too, but the bulk of the lyrics are me.” 

“you need to stop doing that.”

he cocked his head to the side, crushing the cigarette butt on the hardware of the bench, “doing what?” 

“surprising me,” you shook your head, “i don’t like it.” 

“i don’t know what to tell you,” he chuckled, leaning back on the bench. he looked out into the lake, watching the sun disappear behind the mountains, “i have layers. you just gotta give me a chance.” 

“how do you do it?” you sat criss cross on the bench, leaning against the arm rest. “how do you write like that?” 

you’d always been curious about music, even if you weren’t good at it. your dad was never one to answer your questions, especially because you were interested in lyrics more than anything, and that wasn’t his forte. 

luke mimicked your actions, “i dunno. personal experience, i guess?”

you frowned, thinking about the lyrics of family line. luke never talked about his dad, but spoke highly of his mom. was family line based on his own life? if it was, his dad was an asshole. 

you relented to the cold, grabbing the hoodie that he left in between the two of you. you ignored the triumphant smile on his face when you draped the sweater over your bare legs, shielding them from the wind chills. 

he continued, “sometimes things happen to me that get me worked up and i have to write a song about it. sometimes, it’s based on my imagination. it depends.”

you wanted to ask him about his dad, but you didn’t know if he considered you guys friends yet. it’s not like you made it easy for him anyway. you could deal with the banters and annoyance, but you didn’t want to push him to talk about something he wasn’t ready to. you could be a dick, but you weren’t cruel. 

you changed the subject, “okay, let’s play a game.” 

“21 questions?” luke bit his bottom lip, trying not to laugh. he waggled his eyebrows, dodging your arm that reached out to smack him. 

“you’re gross,” you gagged, knowing the implications of the game, “no, i’m gonna ask about the songs on your album and you tell me if it’s real life or from your imagination.” 

“alright, go for it five star,” he beamed, propping his elbows on his crossed knees. he loved talking about music with anyone. he could go on and on for hours. 

“18.” 

“real,” luke snorted, remembering the first time travis pitched the idea for the song to the band, “but not my experience. it was trav. he met this girl at one of our gigs in new york, right after we got signed, and he was obsessed. she was a freshman at nyu and she kept telling him he was too young for her, even though she was just less than a year older. trav was hooked.” 

you could picture it. it was definitely something travis would do. “okay, another one of my favorites. only angel?” 

“not real,” luke shook his head, a slight blush creeping up on his face. “if you tell anyone, five star, i will vehemently deny it, but i had a crush on jade west from victorious and i wrote it about her.” 

there was something about jade west that made luke like a love-sick puppy. ignoring the fact that she was hot, her attitude was something that luke was attracted to. she had a tough exterior and acted like she didn’t care about people, but she had her moments where she was soft and kind to the people she cared about the most. luke liked that. the idea that someone could be sensitive but only to the people they deemed worthy. 

he’d spent so much of his life trying to be worthy, in whatever way the stage of his life defined it, and he craved it– a pat on the back, an approval, a confirmation that he was worthy of it. 

you threw your head back laughing, surprised by his ridiculous confession. the sound of your laughter rang across the woods, making luke smile. your voice echoed throughout the trees and he his senses were surrounded by you. it hit luke like a truck. 

he sucked in a breath, taking out his phone. he jolted from his seat for more than one reason. “shit, five star. we gotta go.” 

you took out your phone too, checking the time. your eyes widened as you got up from your seat. you threw his hoodie over to him, “fuck, we’re late.” 

the two of you raced out of the woods, arriving to the concert venue with flushed faces and rapid breaths. you could feel clarisse’s knowing eyes on you as you got ready for the concert. you tried your best to ignore it. you were going to deal with that later. 

–

“and for the final event, i know you guys are looking forward to this one,” your dad laughed into the mic. the sun was long gone and there were disco lights illuminating the stage. a smoke machine was on either corner, making it difficult to see the bottom half of the stage. you and clarisse stood in the front row, listening to the deafening cheers of the campers. “ladies and gents, welcome poisoned mercury!” 

the screams got louder which you didn’t even know was possible. travis entered the stage first, sticking his tongue out as he expertly twirled his drumsticks around his fingers. connor came in next, smiling and waving at the crowd as he plugged his guitar into the amp. chris walked in with his bass strapped around his neck, eyes immediately finding clarisse and sending her a shy smile. you nudged her teasingly, enjoying the way she blushed under the lights. 

then luke castellan walked in. he ditched his hoodie and t-shirt and walked in with a white tank top on, messing with the curls on his head. he tugged on the silver necklace around his neck as his eyes scanned the crowd. he threw a wink to the group of the older girls in the back, turning to travis to let out a laugh at their reaction. the lights on the boys were blinding and a thin layer of sweat already began to form on their skin despite the bite to the air. 

luke took center stage, picking up his guitar. he leaned over directly in front of you, fingers pretending to mess with the wires connecting his guitar to the speakers, “hey, five star.” 

he straightened his back before you could reply. clarisse’s eyes darted between you and the boy, now nudging you like you did to her earlier. you rolled your eyes, smiling at the rest of the boys as luke began talking on the mic. 

“what’s up, camp half blood?” luke screamed into the mic. the crowd roared. “we’re poisoned mercury and we are so happy to be with you guys here this summer. before we close out this awesome concert, i wanna introduce our lovely band.” 

“on drums, we have the one and only, travis stoll!” luke turned around to applaud travis as he did a little drum solo, head banging as he hit the drums. he turned to connor, “on lead guitar, we have the amazing connor stoll!” 

connor strummed his guitar, leaning over on the left side to soak in the applause of the crowd. the girls beside you swooned as he unleashed one of his award-winning smiles. 

luke faced chris, “and on bass, we have my very best friend in the entire world, my 4lifer, chris rodriguez!” clarisse cheered loudly for chris as he played a tune on his bass, mouthing, “love you, brother,” to luke as he played. the crowd quited for a second as luke addressed them again, “and my name is luke castellan. we’re poisoned mercury!” 

you turned around to look at the crowd. the size of the crowd tripled when the boys got on stage. everyone had a smile on their face, excited to hear them play. 

“the song we’ll be singing for you guys today is from our debut album,” luke adjusted his mic on the stand. he got closer to it, lips touching the metal, “this is only angel.” 

you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at their song choice. this was not the song they were supposed to sing. they’d been rehearsing kilby girl for the past week. luke saw your reaction, laughing along with you. 

the instrumentals began and you nearly missed the beat drop because of the cheers from the crowd. as the song progressed, the boys were one with the music. you watched luke sing, working the crowd like a pro. his skin glistened under the spotlight, beads of sweat tricking down the side of his face. he approached chris when the chorus started, dragging his mic stand with him. he swung his guitar around so it rested on his back as he sang the lyrics. his curls were sticking to his forehead, eyebrows raised in glee as he performed. 

you couldn’t take your eyes off the lead singer, not even when the rest of the band had their own solos in the song. your eyes were glued on luke; how his adam’s apple was on full display as he threw his head back, getting lost in the music, how his arms flexed as he wrapped the mic cord around his fist, how his thin tank top stuck to his body and how it raised when he lifted his arm up to bring the mic closer to his lips. you saw the outline of his abdomen and his v-line. 

but what really got you was his face. he looked at peace on stage, a wide smile on his face, full lips pink and glossy as he licked them in between verses. he looked incredible up there, like that was where he belonged. he was born to be on stage like this. 

“fuck,” you mumbled, applauding at the end of their song. luke’s eyes found yours as he sang the last bit of the song, smiling at you. you hoped clarisse couldn’t hear you talk to yourself. you looked down at your feet, tugging nervously on the collar of your shirt, “i get it now.”

[anticanonsposts]

Protective Konig HCs?

hehe once again so sorry this took a minute

cw: nsfw under the cut-mdni, above the cut sfw

Simple gestures like having an arm over the shoulder of a chair or couch wherever you are 

If you’re out somewhere and someone raises their voice at you he usually stands up 

He matches his walking pace to yours even though he can walk significantly faster 

Always walks you up to doors when dropping you off anywhere 

Always opens doors for you, car doors, building doors, bedroom doors, etc 

He wants to shield you from everything bad in the world

He takes care of you when you’re sick

Or when you’re drunk 

Your goofy ass will be pawing at him, pulling him closer to you, rambling about how hot he is, how hot you are, how hot you two are together and he just smiles and nods back at you, slowly moving you about the apartment, pulling your clothes off, helping you take your makeup off, getting you in the shower then in your pjs 

He would hold umbrellas above you, squeezing you very close to him

If your feet hurt because of your heels or something he will carry you home 

If you trip/fall get any sort of bruise, cut, scrape, scratch he turns into a nurse and ‘dresses your wounds’

Nsfw

Bro you are drinking water during sex or he will stop 

Like normal dirty talk is like keep your eyes on me or i'll stop, nah this man will stop if you don't take water breaks

He’s also very conscious about his size, his body and his dick 

Will always make sure you are good and warmed up before he gets inside of you 

Bc one time you both were a little drunk (consent had been given by both parties prior) and you had insisted that you were ready but in the morning you woke up quite sore

And he felt, so bad

For like a week after, foreplay lasted twice as long as it normally does

He waited until you were dripping before putting himself inside of you 

Like i said he’s also very conscious of his body size on you 

If he is bracing himself against you, gripping you, leaning his weight on you or anything he always makes sure to check in 

Iiiiiiiii think that he wouldn’t be very happy about any bruising he may accidentally inflict on your body, he would have to make sure that you weren’t actually hurt and he would defo be more careful going forward

I also think the first few times you two have sex, he would be very focused on your body language, noises, facial expressions, and check in a lot

the first time he really got you going and you let out these choked moans that almost sounded like sobs he was very concerned but you were just having a really good time

Requests are still open!!

[cenittxnadir]

Lunch Box SingleDad!Miguel O´Hara x Reader

I think i'm going to make a small serie of SingleDad Miguel. Its going to have small fics, drabbles and headcanons. This is the second one I make, but is not a sequel so can read it any order you want.

You have been dating Miguel for awhile now and everything was perfect. Gaby and you got along quite fast, a little too fast. But she loves you and you love her.

Her favorite thing is the weekend, that means that you would stay at their house, so she has you and her dad for two whole days. She knows that Miguel has a time consuming job yours was a little more flexible but still.

Miguel loved how things were going, he was really happy but he couldn't help to feel a little bit jealous about the little bond you made with her daughter. Don't get him wrong, he loves you both, of course his type of love is different from one to another. He loves how you care for Gabriela and how she loves to spend time with you, but sometimes he feels that he's left outside. He just couldn't help it, he wants to have that communication that you have with her daughter, she tells you things that probably she would never tell him about, on the other side, he wants to have your full undivided attention only for him. There are days when he doesn't want to share his daughter and others when he doesn't want to share you.

You knew about it, he gets all grumpy when he hears you talking low in Gaby's room when you have your "girls night". He has tried to walk "by accident" in the middle of your chat only to get a "it's nothing" in response and then a few giggles when he leaves the room. Gaby and you use this to bother him.

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

It had just past one of those weekends, and now it was monday, your day off, so you didn´t left.

Miguel heard his alarm sound, he turn it off with a groan and turn his boby to reach you, but he felt your bed space empty he got up quickly from his place looking for you, you were nowhere in the bedroom, all lights where out except for the little light that came out under the door meaning someone was on the kitchen or living room.

Against his will he got up, he felt cold without your presence. He rubbed his sleepines off his face with his hands. He didn´t want to get up yet, he would dragg you back to bed and sleep late until he had to "call sick" so he can spend more time with you.

When he arrived to the kitchen he saw you there, looking for something in the freezer, you were still in pijamas wich was pretty much some shorts and a shirt courtesy of Miguel's closet. He can hear the sizzle of the pans on the stove and the smell of whatever you were cooking.

"What are you doing up? It´s 6:15 am" His voice was low and groggy.

You gave a little jump, you didn´t expected to see him awake you turn to see him with a hand in her chest. "Dios mío Miguel, give me a warning." He just kept looking at her waiting for an answer. "Oh, I´m making a lunch box for Gabriela"

"Why? She eats at school" He look at you more confused

"Oh, well hehe, she told me that last week there was an insect on her smash potatoes"

"Why I didn´t knew about this?" An insect on his daugther´s food!? That was unacceptable, he would definitely change her from school.

"Because she didn´t want to worry you, besides i´m more than happy to cook for her, its not the first time I make her a lunch box, I usually made them in my apartment and bring them to her school in my luch hour" You star packing everything in her lunch box - funny thing: it was from Spiderman-

His eyes never left you, he followed every movement you made until his stomach rumbled in the middle of the silences. You looked at him. "I´m going to start breakfast. Go get ready."

He gave one last look to the lunch box then he turn to you standing in the middle just like a small kid. "Hmmm... Love? Can i get..." he lower his voice.

You turn to see him "You can get what?"

"I said if I could get..." Again. He wisper

"Mi amor habla más fuerte, no te entiendo. ¿Qué necesitas?"

"Que si puedo tener una yo también" He exchange looks between the lunch box and you.

"A lunch box? You want me to make one for you?"

"Yes please"

You couldn't keep yourself from smiling "Claro que si mi amorcito, I can make you one" You grab his face "Go get ready for work"

Minutes later everyone had finished eating Gabi clean the table while Miguel was getting his stuff in the trunk once he was done he told Gabriela to get in the car and wait for him.

He ran back to the kitchen to grab his lunch box in the counter.

"Wait Miguel, you forgot your dessert" You handle him a small box similar to the bigger one which contains the main food only that this one was cold. "Keep it cold until dessert time my love, its a surprise"

"Gracias"

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

He can´t concentrate in work, he was constantly looking to the small freezer that he kept in his office, far from Hobie - he tend to stole his food- checking allmost every minute his watch hoping time moves faster so lunch time could arrive and finaly eat whatever you made him.

Finally lunch time arrived and he enjoy every single bite of his food, he felt like a kid again, eating home food in peace. Once hi finished his food he began to clean everything until he found the small box, he was full but he didn´t care it was his dessert, made by his lovly girlfirend, of course he´s going to eat it.

He opened the box, it took him a while to process what was happening, he grabbed what was inside lifting it up to get a better look. It was a strawberry, a blue one, with something red on it. Once he took a better look he almost let a squeal scape his lips, they were straberries covered in blue chocolate with some marks made with red chocoalte pretending to be his Spiderman mask.

He was definitely going to hide them from Hobie.

[c0smoshit]

Hello fellow Cloud Strife freak 🫡

(Yes it’s the same star_sworn from ao3 lol)

If you’re feeling in the mood for it in your last week before school, I was hoping to request a nsfw fem reader/Cloud fic where he is possessive/jealous, and he spanks reader: a LOT. Both before sex (with extensive foreplay, lots of dirty talk, maybe oral for him?) and during sex. Just spanking with hands please, and not super hard spanks either, I'm very vanilla lol. It's not about hurting her, it's more a possessive thing for Cloud (and an ass thing lol!). But reader is SUPER into it. I'm not looking for any hardcore dom/sub or anything, just stuff a committed couple would do (some soft dom vibes, like in Mind Cloud/ed).

Maybe it’s the first time he does it and they both realize how much they both like it, or maybe they’ve come home from a party where the guys were checking out his girl and he is feeling possessive/frustrated. I leave it to you if you want to take this request!

I look forward to the filth. Let's give this ass man something to do with his hands… 😉

Also best of luck with school starting!!

I LOVE THIS omg

Thanks for this delicious request love 😻♡♡

Jealousy ミ★

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ≫ Cloud Strife/fem!reader

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ≫ smut!, p in v, spanking, few hints of dacryphilia, bjs, sexy hour Cloud ;), not proofread!

⋆ ࣪. 𝔸/ℕ ≫ I'm baack! I hope u guys missed me hehe

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥 ≫ 2.321

He was closer to you this night, walking right beside you as he guided you to your appartment, his hand brushing over yours as the dark path consumed your vision.

He was quiet too, way more than usual. His eyes didn't seem as if they were trying to search your own ones like they would always do.

Maybe he was stressed out?

This week has been a long one and you could see it on his eyes, he was tired. As time grew older, you had managed to read his enigmatic emotions quite well, so you thought that maybe he just needed to rest for tonight.

But your theory was quickly proven wrong as you entered your home, ready to wave him goodbye for the night.

. . .

Before you could even turn around, his chest had enveloped your back, pushing you further into your appartment until your hands met the wall.

His husky breathing hit your ear, a shockwave of goosebumps trickled your skin.

Why was he that needy all of the sudden??

Your mind circled around lots of different questions but the harsh sound of the door closing made you jump.

You didn't dare to open your mouth, not yet. You could feel his hands on your waist, but they didn't caress you like he always would, like when he touched you for the first time.

You internally cracked a small smile at the memory, he was just as nervous and fidgety as you were.

The moonlight encased both of your bodies as he took off your clothes for the first time, making an absolute mess of himself when he finally got to the act.

But those gentle and somewhat shy touches were far lost inside his guts somewhere, instead, they were replaced with fierce and strong movements.

You turned around slowly, you could feel yourself getting aroused by this sudden role he was playing. And when you stared at those almost hollow eyes, you saw passion, lust and hunger all mixed up together in a ballad of desesperation.

His lips devoured yours not even a second after.

Your eyes were tight shut, savouring the sweet moment he was offering you. Your lips tried to move slowly, trying to enjoy this new facade, but he wouldn't let you.

His tongue was already inside your mouth when you felt his fingertips lower themselves down your body.

You knew he was an ass guy, it was absolutely cristal clear.

He would always grab your ass, brushing it off saying that it was an "accident". Pushing his hips into yours from behind whenever you couldn't reach for something, always walking right behind you whenever you two where with the group.

However, you didn't expect he liked... spanking.

It started off slow, giving you little taps as he grabbed and squeezed your butt. He pushed further into you, almost as if he wanted to break the wall behind you.

The kisses soon turned sloppy, soaking up both of your lips before he trailed them further down, and you had to bite your lip in order to not let any sounds yet.

His hair trickled your flushed cheek, hands quickly grabbing it as his kisses turned into bites, sucking your soft skin.

The crown of your hair hit the cold wall behind you, mouth agape as you let him sneak a hand behind your back, pulling you impossibly closer to his chest as the other one caressed your hip.

Ready to finally use your voice tonight, you eventually opted not to. He had just became so... primal for you, you didn't dare to even make a question.

However, you wished this blissful moment lasted longer.

"Oop!"

A cut out yelp emerged from your mouth as his hands took ahold of your legs, lifting you up easily into the air.

He wrapped your legs around his hips, your crotch resting just above his belly button and, simultaneously, your arms embraced his neck for support.

You moved up and down thanks to his heavy steps and, trying to get payback from earlier, you started pecking his neck. Starting off gently, kissing and giving butterfly kisses into his jugular.

You noticed he became clumsier, almost tripping over as you sucked a hickie. Your kisses got wetter, hotter and your hand started to caress the back of his hair.

You giggled at his clumsy steps but as soon as you were placed on top of your chilly kitchen counter and saw his serious face once again, you quieted down.

His hands gripped your thighs as if they were his sword, his head coming down to rest on your neck once again to give you little pecks, weirdly more tenderly than the ones he had given you before.

But you pulled his mouth off you briefly.

"What's up with yo-"

"Who was he"

His eyes were finally looking at yours after a long while.

"What? What are you talki-"

"Who was that guy"

Your hands now rested on his shoulder blades, feeling the hard touch of metal bellow your right hand.

Frowning your brows, you tried to think about what guy was he talking about.

. . .

You smelled the aura and it smelt musky.

The first scent you picked out first was a strong breeze of sudden whisky, the wet and fermented barley filling up your nose.

Then you smelt a recognizable, stronge cologne floating around your head now. And when you lifted up your head, you saw him.

A mature, bearded man.

He was wearing a long black coat, some glasses keeping your curious eyes from staring at his own ones. You stayed there for a second, he looked oddly familar.

But before you could figure out who was that man, you came back to Earth, remembering that you were winding down after a long day in Seventh Heaven.

You grabbed your drink, resting for a while on your seat until your drink was halfway done.

But before you could walk away from that husky cloud, a large hand grabbed your shoulder, making you face the misterious man.

Your eyes lingered first on his fierce brown eyes, looking at his mature skin, you saw a scar on his left cheek that time had tried to heal, trying to match his skin colour.

You saw his lips move, but you had to re-think your answer before opening your own mouth.

"I saw you back there"

Okay.

You hadn't expected that phrase.

Where could he had seen you anyway? Was he following you?

"I like what you guys are doing for the Planet"

What?

You knew what you were doing was benefitial for the Planet, but Shinra worked so hard into putting your group as a terrorist one and actually killing way more people from the explosions than expected.

But why did he knew?

"Those Shinra guys deserve worse"

It came out as a mumble and you couldn't help but look at him with a puzzled expresion, accepting the friendly pats he gave on your shoulder, thanking you.

That was sweet. . .?

. . .

"Ohh, that man back there?"

He stopped his movements, almost as if letting you know that you were right.

"I saw him to-"

Now you were the one that cut him off, not boring to hide the sly smirk on your face.

"Wait, are you jealous?"

Suddenly his cheeks reddened, but before he could see your grin he lowered his head down into your neck once again.

Ready to make another snicker, you were interruped by his palm now resting on your panties, making you gasp.

His index finger moved up and down and you took matter into your own hands too, quite literally.

He hissed as your bold hand groped him too, trying to lure him into letting you give him some pleasure too.

"Let me make you feel good"

Your heated breathing sent cold shivers down his spine and, as your teeth lightly bit his ear, he lost it.

"So pretty"

You would always praise him, and it would always make him feel sort of bad, he would keep his own thoughts about how gorgerous you were to himself.

But he meant all of them.

His shirt and SOLDIER armour was now discared on the cold floor, your icy hands caressing his abs before finally getting down on your knees.

His absolutely favourite view in the whole Planet.

He helped you take off his belt, letting your overly-excited fingers do the rest of the work. And when you finally got face to face with him, he placed a reassuring hand on your head.

You started off with slow strokes, kitten-kissing his angry red tip. Sensually trailling lower and lower on his shaft just to tease him and rake higher and higher again.

Until he finally had enough, gripping quite hardly your hair.

"Get on with it"

He actually scared himself off at first with his demanding tone, his desesperation seemingly clear on his blushed cheeks as he stared down at you. And you complied, enjoying the choked out gasp you managed to pull out of his throat when you suddenly introduced him halfway into your wet cavern.

Lust filled eyes staring down at the mess you were making on his cock, gripping hardly the counter behind him as he tried not to buck his hips into your mouth.

Not only your sweet face was all in display for him to see, but your sweet, sweet ass was there too.

As dirty as it sounded inside his head

Your hands held his thighs hardly too, enjoying every sound you were being able to pull from him as you took him deeper and deeper. He was big, and it was almost funny how he didn't actually believe you could struggle to take him at first.

But it sure ignited something inside him

He throbbed when he saw you gag on him, help him reach his end with the help of your hand, your glossy eyes staring up at him.

He needed to feel you.

But not like this

So he took your face off him, smashing desesperately his lips against yours once again, feeling a fuzzy tingle inside him as he heavily rested on your lower stomach now.

His hands held your face ridiculously gently compared from how he had gripped your hair just a few seconds ago, walking you backwards until you met the counter once again.

"turn around"

His voice was deeper now, staring daggers into your eyes as he waited for you to obediently follow his lead. And you did.

You bent yourself down, ready to whatever he was going to give you this night right there and then.

And when you felt him pull your skirt up, you pushed your hips back into his hands, making him pull down your panties even slower than he intended to. Almost as if he was getting payback from before.

When they pooled through your ankles, his hand softly massaged your right cheek, feeding off your whines.

"Please"

However, he kept going.

No matter how hard he was, how hardly he wanted to fill you up, to feel you entirely around him once again. He wanted to show you how you were his, how he loved and desired you.

So, without thinking, the harsh sound of a "slap!" filled your ears and ceirtantly, your butt.

You couldn't help yourself but let out a pathetic moan, his hand now rubbing the red spot he had left. He had heard you, and it was the same sound you would let out whenever he was fingering you.

Did you actually like it?

So once he had tested the waters, he set his sights on slipping the nastiest mewls from your mouth tonight.

"Mmph- Cloud"

There it was, his name filling his ears the best way it could've had. So he started teasing your slit with his shaft, more slapping sounds filling up the small appartment as you almost rested your whole chest on the counter now.

You picked out the sound of plastic, something opening up. Which you later would guess was a condom.

But before you could make contact with the cold tile, his left arm surrounded your stomach, pulling you up into him, lips mere centimeters away from your ear.

"I'm going inside now, is that okay?"

How sweet

But sweet wasn't an adjective that matched his dirty and husky tone. His hand was now toying with your front, exposing you to the darkness as he squeezed your breasts now.

So you nodded, feeling suddenly too shy to speak to him.

"Too embarrassed to use your voice now huh?"

And you opened it, but it was useless to his tip now proding your entrance, slowly taking him further and further. Holding the arm that was embracing you, you rolled your head into his shoulder, silently whimpering at the warm feeling.

"Got you, almost there"

His reassuring tone he used with no one really never failed to make your knees feel like jelly.

But his adorable act lasted as quick as you managed to cum with his skilled fingers.

He started to move, and he was clearly desesperate. Setting off a crude, fast pace as you were now fully bent over, his hands gripping your hips. His middle finger was now circling quickly your clit, pulling off the nastiest moans he had wished for.

You imagined his glistening, lean form behind you, making you take all of him, using your tight walls in search for his climax. His hair all ruffled up, a bead of sweat trailing down into his v-line, and the sudden spanks your ass would recieve.

That was your last straw, mewling out his name as you soaked his cock.

And by the way you gripped him even harder, which he thought was impossible now, spasming around him violently.

He was done.

So he followed close behind, painting the plastic walls white, imagining it was you who was taking his load instead.

[jaylver]

I WANNA BE YOURS — P.SH

synopsis: hiding your secret relationship with sunghoon from your brother, jay, proved to be quite a challenge. that was until you’ve had enough of it, and sunghoon had to prove himself that he wants to be yours.

pairings: non-idol!sunghoon x afab!reader

genre: brother's best friend au, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, romance, humour

warning(s): profanities, slight suggestiveness

wc: 1340

a/n: sorry for the inactivity (currently going insane) !! as promised, here's the hoon drabble, apologies in advance if it's lacking 😭 not my best work imo. will be back after tomorrow since it's my last paper (yay) so please wait for me hehe. as usual, feedbacks and reblogs are much appreciated ! love you all !

masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.

This was wrong. Very, very wrong.

Who said it would be a good idea to get involved with your brother's best friend? Nobody. Exactly. 

You found yourself somehow being tangled with Park Sunghoon ever since a party your brother and his friends held. He was only two years older than you and you've known him for practically your whole life. Your brother, Park Jong Seong, had known Sunghoon ever since they were kids, so he was definitely far from a stranger. 

Coming around your house almost every day, dinners during festivities, holding parties when your parents were out of town, Sunghoon's always there no matter what the occasion was. It didn't help that he was nice to you too. Constantly giving you friendly smiles and acknowledging you when your brother chased you away during their 'bro time', he was a sweetheart.

Eventually, you knew you were in hell once you discovered your teeny tiny crush on Sunghoon was real and existing. To be fair, he was gorgeous, paired with an even prettier personality. 

Yet, Jay was there to cockblock you and stop your chances. Look, he's a great brother to you, but he made it clear that you were 'off-limits', whatever that was. You couldn't believe it either. 

Being the typical little sister, it was natural to defy your big brother and do exactly what he told you not to.  Unbeknownst to him, you've gone behind his back and got with one of them. That explained why Sunghoon being in your room was wrong, especially when he's in your bed.

"Fuck—what about Jay?" You rasped out in between kisses, feeling the touch of his lips travelling down your throat.

Sunghoon groaned, his hands on your waist tightened momentarily. "He's not going to know I'm in here. I snuck in from your window anyway,"

"He can suddenly barge in,"

"You have your doors locked,"

Those words might seem nonchalant, but it was more than what it meant. 

The times he's spent in your room, knowing each and every part of it, the crevices of your sheets to the feeling of your skin on his. It wasn't just something simple. Neither was the fact of your door always being locked.

"I–I don't know," you suddenly turned uncertain, pushing yourself up and having him stop. 

"Hm? Are you okay? Something's up?" His face morphed into a look of concern, worried at your abrupt change in emotions.

"It's just—" you sighed, not knowing how to approach it, "I wish we could be honest to Jong. I don't want to sneak around anymore, Hoon, it almost feels like you want to keep me a secret,"

"I don't, Y/N, I would never want that," he ran a hand through his hair, proceeding to take yours in his. "I want to be with you, hell, I want to tell everyone that. I wanna be yours,"

"But? What even are we?"

Right, you got to the question that everyone feared.

"Your brother. I don't know when I can do it,"

Frustration etched deeper into your face. "Hoon, if you don't know when you'll do it, then maybe, maybe, you just don't want me like that, or that you're scared to admit your actual feelings and continue to toy me around,"

"No—"

"Goodnight, Sunghoon."

You turned over onto your side, frowning deeply. It was time for him to set his shit right, and he was going to have to figure it out himself. 

The next few times you saw Sunghoon after that night was when he came over to hang out with your brother. He has been texting you, to which you reciprocated dryly. He even got you flowers, your favourite snacks and even waited for you outside your bedroom door, but all of that wasn't enough for you to forgive him.

Why couldn't he just tell Jay the truth? If it was you, you would've already said it, but since Sunghoon was reluctant, you didn't. This was frustrating.

What's more frustrating was having Sunghoon seated next to you at the dinner table during dinner. You could feel him casting glances at you, nervousness emitting from his body quite obviously. 

You were acting nonchalant, almost too nonchalant that it even had Jay casting glances between you and his jittery best friend. However, he said nothing.

"Hoon, pass the salad to Y/N," your brother said from Sunghoon's side, nudging him. You glanced up at the mention of your name, meeting Sunghoon's slightly widened eyes and confused stare. 

"I—uh—here," he took the bowl and passed it to you, chewing the insides of his mouth. 

How could you be mad at him when he looked like that? Sunghoon's starry eyes that never failed to soften your heart, the moles that decorated his face which you've traced in the night when he was asleep, he was your Sunghoon, or so you thought. 

"Thanks," you said softly, offering a smile that he warmly reciprocated. 

As you took the bowl from him, you felt the feather-like touch of his fingers grazing against yours, sending electricity up your senses. You locked eyes with him again, this time an equal want and pining evident in both your gazes.

He was the first to cough and retreat his hold on the bowl. You were snapped out of your momentary daze and also let out an awkward cough, scooping the salad into your bowl to shake off the feeling he gave you just now.

Once dinner was over, you took the very first chance to escape back upstairs, heart beating quicker the way up, and there was probably a reason for your anxiety. Sunghoon.

"Y/N," almost as fast as he had popped into your mind, he appeared behind you, probably followed you up. He got a hold of your wrist, stopping you in your tracks and you turned around, mouth slightly agape. "I figured we should … talk,"

You took in his words, nodding slowly. "We should,"

"I'm sorry," he said without any hesitation, a hint of desperation laced in both his gaze and voice. "I was wrong for not putting a label on our relationship, I should've treated you better, you're everything to me. My heart wouldn't stop beating whenever I see you, you've completely bewitched me, you've drove me insane,"

Sunghoon heaved in a breath, stepping closer. "Secrets I've held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought. I told everything to Jay,"

"You—what?"

"I did. I realised what you said was right and I told him. He's cool with it, Y/N," Sunghoon smiled, and it was the same smile he only had whenever he's around you. 

"Really?"

"Really," he intertwined your fingers with his, pulling you close. "I wanna be yours, Y/N. You have my deep devotion, always,"

"Gosh, I want you to be mine—need you. I like you, a lot, like crazy a lot. I wanna be yours too,"

"You genuinely drive me insane," he leaned in close, the tip of his nose brushing against yours, his lips edging closer. "Tell me if I can kiss you, pretty girl,"

He's kissed you many times, but this round, it hits differently. "You can,"

It didn't take Sunghoon another second before crashing his lips onto yours. He was pouring his pent up frustration, angst, desperation, and love into his kiss, almost kissing you as if there was no tomorrow.

As things escalated, you pushed him into your room, letting him spend the night where he smoothly asked you to be his girlfriend, which you agreed to, duh. 

All was well between you and Sunghoon. You even got together and started planning out dates. It was meant to be.

On the other hand, Jay spent the night with music blasting in his ears. He had already suspected something between you and his best friend, but to find out it had been happening for months? It was shocking. But, he wasn't opposed to it.

He just has to make sure to close his eyes whenever you two are around together. Couples, ew.

( © jaylver all rights reserved. do NOT copy, plagiarise or edit my work and repost whatsoever. once discovered will be exposed and blacklisted. )

☆ permanent taglist (open):

@silentkarnival @strvlveera @freshsaladbowl @bejewelledgirl @fakeuwus @yenqa @hsgwrld @ilovegyuvin @enhacatalog @aishigrey

[giddyfatherchris]

I'm in love with you!!

pairing. felix x gn!reader

type. best friends to lovers

warnings. none except pure undiluted fluff

a/n. fricking loved writing this, it made me miss summer so muuuch, but i had the greatest time while listening to these songs on replay😋 highly suggest to have them playing in the background while reading! or just give them a listen cuz they’re amazing hehe hope you enjoy!! xx

song recommendations. calm - cody simpson, im in love with you - the 1975, island in the sun - weezer, heavenly state of mind - lewis capaldi, the view - skz

"I like the view right now!" you chanted as the salty wind ruffled your hair and caressed your skin.

Your eight friends started hooting in agreement, all understanding the reference to one of your favorite songs of theirs.

As a celebration of their highly successful last tour, you had all decided to book a trip to a private island off the coast of Australia. It took a boat ride to reach the secluded piece of land filled with villas and populated with a few staff members. It was a paradisiac hideaway for you all, so accustomed to being surrounded all the time.

You turned back with a gigantic smile. Felix, who was standing behind you, mirrored the expression on your face, a certain twinkle illuminating his gaze.

You jumped in his arms, startling him as he caught you rapidly. "And I love going to the beach!"

He spun you around, feet digging in the sand while you both screamed. The rest of the group looked at you with amused expressions. By now, they had become quite accustomed to your antics. You ended your frivolous spinning by plopping down on the sand, slightly out of breath. You stretched your arms as far as you could, relishing in the stunning warmth of the Australian sun, and turned to cuddle against Felix, his nose already nuzzling in your hair. "I'm so happy to be back home, Lix." "So am I," he answered with a soft smile, his eyes half-closed.

After a day well spent outside, swimming and exploring, you had collectively decided to set up a cozy little camp on the beach to enjoy the warm night under a sky full of stars.

"Are you done, you two? We need help setting up!" shouted Changbin.

"I'm coming, you whiny child!"

You faked irritation with rolled eyes, but ever since you walked off the plane, you couldn't stop your lips from tilting upwards. Your soul seemed to be shouting and dancing to the rhythm of your home. Nothing could you get you down from your little cloud of happiness, even a whiny Changbin. You got up to lend him a hand before he started throwing a tantrum, not noticing Felix's hand still subtly reaching for you.

The young Australian looked at the stunning view. You were right. Being home felt amazing. It was wonderful to have some vacations after being on tour, especially here with you.

You had been friends for as long as he could remember.

From meeting in kindergarten to facing high school's adventures to growing into two young adults. You never had any big fights, your friendship having prevailed over any argument and hardship. Even the distance hadn't been enough to pull you apart.

Felix remembers too well the fear he felt before telling you he wanted to become an idol all those years ago. He was so scared you would disapprove and hate him for wanting to go so far away. But your anger only came from the fact that he had never said a thing about it. He remembers fondly how you jumped on him, hugging him tight with tears lining your eyes. From that moment on, you had been his fiercest supporter. You cried buckets when he left for Korea but made him promise to keep in touch every day. So you video chatted whenever he could. You stayed up with him for entire nights, braving the time difference to give him pointers on choreo stuff or to cheer him up when he had a rough day.

Until you no longer had to do any of that.

Looking at you now, getting along so well with his brothers, made his heart tighten with emotion. At 23 years old, he had everything he ever wanted. Well, almost everything

Felix knew since he was 14 years old that he loved you. Part of him had hoped that once he was in Korea, his heart would finally stop beating only for you, but it never happened. He had dated a little, but no one had compared to you. With time, he became accustomed to the idea of never falling in love with anyone else.

It was a thought he accepted without so much difficulty. He couldn't help how his heart started speeding up whenever you were close to him. The reassuring feeling of having you by his side. The way your smile made him see stars. The way you cuddled into his side or held his hand, how your gaze lit up whenever you saw the sea, and how he was the one you reached for when you were sad, angry, or just disgustingly happy. He wanted to experience everything with you, every high and every low. He couldn't and didn't want to imagine himself doing life with anyone else. It would be this or nothing else, and he was comfortable with that.

After all these years, he had never found the courage to tell you. The fear of losing you paralyzed him. But as he looked at the joyful sea, breathed the fresh Australian air, and looked at you laughing and fighting fiercely against an uncooperative beach chair, he thought maybe this vacation was the time. The time to face his fears, as he did almost seven years ago to chase his dream, and see where it would lead him.

"Felix!" called Changbin, interrupting his train of thought. "Come and walk with us! We want to see how far the beach goes in that direction."

He lifted his head with a smile, looking at his friends waiting for him, bare feet in the sand.

"Hurry!" you waved. "We don't want to miss the sunset!"

It had been months since he had seen you so excited, so eager. He knew you loved coming with them on tour. But he also knew Australia would always own your heart.

"Alright, alright. I'm coming!"

He swatted the sand away from his shorts before walking to your little group.

You started walking on the beach, Felix close to you. Seungmin, I.N, Hyunjin, and Changbin ahead, busy taking pictures in front of the rose-colored sunset. Bang Chan and Lee Know were trying to start your little fire while Han prepared the perfect playlist. Suddenly, you recognized the familiar air of their song, 'The View'. You looked back to Han with a huge smile. He simply winked and gave you a thumbs-up before focusing on his phone once more.

The notes of the music danced around you, making the ambiance even more special. There was something in the air, a prickling, exciting feeling.

You swayed gently to the music as Felix snapped a few pictures. The two oldest near the fire, Han next to the speaker, the boys walking ahead, the sunset. He seemed to be on a mission to commit everything to memory.

You felt his focus shift and noticed he subtly tried taking pictures of you. You walked up to him with a soft smile.

"Are you taking pictures of me, sir?" "I might be," he smiled back, his dimples on display. "Well, I'm afraid you need permission for that…" you continued, taking a step closer.

Without giving him a second to interpret your movement, you stole his phone with a squeal of victory.

"Come back here!" He protested, but you ran as fast as you could to Changbin, giving him the phone. As you expected, he sprinted in the opposite direction while laughing like a dolphin.

"You think you're funny or something?" asked a slightly out of breath Felix as he reached you.

"In fact, I do."

You splashed him and ran off while giggling like a maniac. As hoped, your antics started a generalized water war. Felix kept running after you, deciding he needed to get vengeance while the other boys splashed each other. You laughed wildly and ran in the shallow waters, not daring to look back and give him a chance to reach you.

You had water up to your knees by the time you heard him whine, "Wait! Y/n! You're gonna get all wet."

You turned around with a taunting look in your eyes. "Felix Lee, has the idol lifestyle gotten to you?" You gave him a pitying look. "Have you forgotten all about your Australian roots? Are you scared of a little water?"

A little taunting was usually all it took for you to rile up your best friend, and tonight would be no different. His eyes scrunched with determination, "Oh, you just wait till I get my hands on you." He tried threatening you, but you didn't give him a chance as you dove into the clear water.

Without a second thought, he jumped in after you, fully clothed. He barely broke the surface when you jumped on him from behind and tried to push him back underwater. He managed to take ahold of your wrists, careful not to clamp too hard. You took a deep breath, ready to be ducked under, but he softly made you twirl in the water. You gave him a surprised look as he winked and let you go benevolently.

Complete elation seized you as the beautiful young man looked at you with that smile of his, hair slicked back from the water, a light illuminating his soft eyes.

"I love Australia! I love the beach! I love being in the water! I love this night!!!" you screamed as you threw your arms in the air.

The other boys looked in your direction with giant smiles, drenched in water. The ever-present professional idol aura in their demeanor was nowhere in sight. They shone with pure happiness. For once, they could be only themselves, away from cameras and personas. Your heart sang with happiness for them.

"I love being home!" screamed Chan. "I love Australian BBQ!" added Changbin. "I love vacations!" said I.N "I love to splash Grandpa Chan!" joked Seungmin. "I love sunsets!" screamed Hyunjin. "I love water wars!" laughed Han. "I love cats!" finished Lee Know.

All eyes turned to Felix, the only one who hadn't said anything yet. His soft gaze set on you, the intensity taking the breath away from your lungs. He rallied his breath and screamed. "I LOVE YOU!"

The boys all went silent. You stared at him in disbelief.

"I love you. I love you so much. I always have, and I always will. Since we were kids, no one has ever meant the same to me. I love being here with you. I love being anywhere around the world with you. I love seeing you smile. I love the way you're so passionate. I- I don't want anyone else." It occurred to Felix that this was maybe not the right way to do this, as he noticed the silence surrounding him, but he kept going. "I know this is probably so out of pocket for you. You probably don't believe this is real, but I assure you it is. Since I was 14, I've been thinking of the right way to say this to you. I never thought it would happen like this but it feels right. So right, to finally tell you while you're at the place you love most and where I can see you shine brighter than ever."

You stared at him before a smile tugged at your lips, and you suddenly screamed. "I LOVE YOU!" He stood there with his arms limp at his side. Your words shocked him, and his mouth opened before he asked, "You love me?"

The light of disbelief shining in his eyes made your heart tighten. "Of course, I love you Lix. Honestly, I'm not sure how you didn't notice it," you added with a sheepish smile.

He took a step towards you, "You love me?" "Yes." Another. "You're sure?" you nodded with a bright smile. He was right in front of you, his arms a millimeter from wrapping around your body. "You love, love me?"

"OF COURSE I LOVE LOVE YOU. ALWAYS HAVE AND ALWAYS WILL." You leaped in his arms, water splashing around.

"SHE LOVES HIM!" Screamed the seven other boys in unison.

You smiled as you put your lips on his, barely registering the ruckus of your friends running for the two of you, throwing water around to celebrate the long-awaited moment you two idiots would realize you had been pinning for each other for years.

[thoughtsforsoob]

Hiii!Can I ask for "arguments with txt" with comfort at the end?

arguments with txt

a/n: I just made like a texts version of this so please check out my last post! I will fulfill this request by making a more long form version about what arguments with them are like/about. (I hate conflict. If people are arguing or fighting in front of me, I will run off or just straight up have a panic attack, it's happened before. trust me. witnessing school fights in hs was not kind to me). I hope this is okay too :) hehe you almost got 2 parts in a way. Please enjoy! I’m currently cleaning out my inbox so idk how fast it’ll get done but I promise im doing my best. Thank you!!!

Yeonjun

Argument’s with him are very uncommon. He often time doesn’t take them very seriously that frustrates you to no end. You and him tend to argue about little things which is surprise because you seem to talk out all of the big things you guys go through. It’s very confusing to say the least. He’ll get upset with you for little things like for example: leaving your dish in the sink for later. It drives him up the wall and it really shouldn’t. His tactics for when he’s upset is to just get away from you and ignore you for an hour or two. you already know his habits so you just leave him be. He’s not really good at admitting he’s wrong or that his behavior was pointless but he knows it in his head. Over time, he’ll stop doing things like this but just give him some time. He’s adjusting to being the both of you in the apartment and not just him.

Soobin

it's so hard to argue with him because he will never want to face your issues head on. he's shy in nature so any conflict makes him nervous and he retreats, avoiding talking about it. he would much rather forgive and forget without say much at all. sometimes, though, it's impossible to forgive and forget without saying anything. when those situations so arise, you have to sit him down and talk to him very calmly. he responds better to this type of conversations. anyways, he is very silent when it comes to arguments as well. you can tell he's upset because his responses are so short and cold. the best way to ask him to talk is just asking him straight but with a very calm voice so as to not make him upset even more.

Beomgyu

I would hare to argue with him. He's so unresponsive when it comes to arguments. The only things he does is sit there and listen to you talk to him about what he's done wrong, roll his eyes with a huff and then just spew out all kinds of meant things. He knows what he's saying but he doesn't;t think it'll affect you in the long wrong. During one argument, you were getting on him about picking up his game remote from the couch and putting them into the little box you bought him for all the cables and remotes to are stored in. you also threw in a little comment about picking his dirty clothes off the bathroom floor and he lost it. he said you were lazy and did the same thing too (leaving your clothes behind). he only realizes what he's done when you start to cry right in front of him. he goes nuts apologizing and will def come to his senses when he sees you this way.

Taehyun

he will sit there at argue with you for hours, upon hours, upon hours. he is not going to back down because he hates being wrong. even if he knows he's wrong, he hates admitting it. he always eventually admits his faults but it takes a while. he is so stubborn and it causes quite a few issues in your relationship. something this causes the both of you to fight over the most silly things ever. one of the silliest ones for example was when you were talking about how much you loved in actor in a movie you had watched he'd recently. he insists that it was someone else and eventually he realizes hes wrong but he hates to say he made a mistake. he gives you silent treatment for a few hours and when that time is up, he goes to look for you and tells you to get ready because you're going to get food with him. he is such a mom when it comes to apologizing (my mom loves to mend our issues with a trip for boba or a trip to target where she buys me snacks or a new shirt or something).

Huening Kai

he is just like soobin in the aspect of a relationship. non-confrontational to the bone. arguments trigger his fight or flight and it frustrates him when arguments run too long. arguments with him are always about him putting himself down or not letting himself rest enough when he is clearly exhausted. thats all. you too can usually talk things out due to your extremely close bond but sometimes things get out of hand and you have to get on his case. it usually starts with him coming home in tears and beyond frustrated. this is almost always because he sat in the practice room and read comments left by mean people. or because ehe was struggling with a new choreography. you try to help him by telling him to wash up and get rest but he completely just blows up on you and tells you to butt out. you leave him alone but he realizes his mistake when he see you on the couch, covered with a blanket, watching tv without him. he sits next to you and apologizes. he is not someone who hates being wrong. if he's wrong, he'll apologize with no hesitation.

[oepionie]

—"UNDERCOVER PRINCESS CHARMING" drabble

SYNOPSIS: MC is the elusive eldest sister of the Charming royal family. This is a secret she's kept hidden from her friends and lover at NRC. However, her efforts to keep her royal heritage under wraps all go to waste when her old friends calls her by her real last name.

⊹ [ cw ] — a fight breaks out, MC gets chased by a tiger, not proofread◞

⊹ [ tags ] — FLUFFY CRACK! female reader! rsa princes cameo hehe, the story of how MC started a flat out war against RSA and NRC, your lover can be any TWST boy◞

⊹ [ w.c ] — 500+◞ | 🦇masterlist◞

"Princess Charming! You're here!" Neige calls out gleefully, waving vehemently at you as he rushes over. A group of boys were approaching you, all clad in the respectable, pristine white uniforms of RSA.

The questioning stares of your friends dart and pierce through you, the same inquisitive expression plastered onto their faces. By your side, your lover tenses up, jaw clenching as he mistakes the boy's greeting as a sign of flirtatious affection.

"What does he mean?" He murmurs, protectively stepping closer to you as the group of handsome bright-eyed princes close in. "Why is he calling you…Princess Charming?"

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

This certainly activated your fight-or-flight instincts. Your mind was a jumble as of now and you were left unable to think of an excuse or backup plan. Holding your hand out, you tried to subtly gesture for them all to step away but they couldn't take the hint. Curse these princes and their child-like naivety.

Unfortunately, this was no time to start complaining, as the crowd just kept getting closer and closer. Neige was leading the small procession along, waving gleefully at you. Just behind him were a few familiar faces. Prince Rielle, Prince Jasmin, Allison—Every single one of your old friends was here. There was absolutely no way you could explain your way out of this one.

Flee it is!

Smiling tensely, you whip your head around and rush away, legs straining to keep up with the sudden speedy pace. Instead of giving up like you expected, it seemed as if they got even more persistent. Your false obliviousness being the match which lit up their fiery determination.

Now it wasn't only Neige calling for you. Prince Rielle furrows his brow and raises his voice, thinking you didn't hear his rosy-cheeked friend clearly. "PRINCESS CHARMING—"

"I-I think you all have the wrong person!" You scream out, almost wailing, as you break into a fast sprint. "PLEASE JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Refusing to give up, the boys also start running after you, calling for you at the very top of their lungs and begging you to slow down. At the sight of your despair, your NRC friends run after the entourage.

Sure, they were extremely confused, but if your horrified expression was anything to go off of, it seemed like you weren't too keen on having these doe-eyed damsels princes follow you around.

"Rajah! Get her!" A flash of alarm strikes them when Jasmin calls for his tiger, jumping atop the beast and bolting towards your direction. Your scream was shrill and high-pitched as you ran faster, shaking your head vehemently at Jasmin who was practically breathing down your back. (It was quite amazing how you managed to outrun a tiger, he thinks.) "I DON'T KNOW WHO YOU PEOPLE ARE! LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Determined to protect you from any harm the RSA lunatics could send your way, a couple of your friends started to pull out their magic pens as they geared themselves up for battle.

And when Riddle activates his magic, clasping a collar tight around Allison's neck—chaos unfolds.

—EXTRA:

"My beautiful darling." Crowley wails, claws digging into his pants, tearing the fabric up as he watches a crowd of students fight and fling magical spells at each other, loud screaming coming from either side. You were in the midst of the crossfire, being forcibly pulled into the arms of one boy to another.

Crowley cries out once more, sinking to his knees.

"Oh. My beautiful darling school."

—TAGLIST:

꒰ ♡🧷: if you want to be tagged for ALL of my works, comment here!

@furoidoleech @skadi-winterfell @mushroomchaos101 @taruruchi

@keedas @spadecentrall @crypticbibliophilele @pastellepastaryry @cassidycampfire @cocomollo @poisonioushearts @kawaiipotatoghostt @ramvuda @sweeneyblue11 @the-lost-anime-dad @kyraxiynn @mayaaaeoo @fluffimemes @awkwardspontaneity @phoneandchips @gussuri @lunavixia @heatofmyexoheart @pianopuppygirl @cross-cryee @cerisescherriess @cecilebutcher @savanaclaw1996 @msykarolyy @a-bit-latee @imdevotedtoyou @aphrodites-saint

[mochinomnoms]

The Private (not) Thoughts of a Moray Chapter 2: I love you means you're never, ever, ever getting rid of me!

Gender Neutral Reader x Jade Leech

Chapter 2 preview:

Slamming the front door behind you, you slid down to the floor. Cradling your burning face, Jade’s words played on repeat like a scratched CD. Little pearl~Pretty two-legs.You’re cute when you’re clumsy.I’d like to flip that skirt up and bend you over- “Oh my god, oh my god, ohmygodmygodgodgod-” you shrieked into your hands.

[wc} - 6,738

back to chapter list

“Hey!”

Mmh…

“Hello?~”

Ima comfy…

“Prefect?”

Sleeeeeeep…

“...I’m going to pinch them.”

Hmm?

“Don’t be mean!”

“I’m gonna do it!”

“Don’t!”

*SMACK*

“OW!”

Turning over in your bed, something smacking into your arm as you blinked the sleep from your eyes. Looking over at the side of your bed, you saw a sprawled out Grim on the floor. Presumably what you smacked with your arm. Floating above him was one of the Ramshackle ghosts, looking both amused and concerned. 

Your three undead companions were familiar faces who often enjoyed scaring you upon your arrival in the dorm. Though you were still fairly easy to spook with a surprise “boo!”, you were on quite friendly terms with Earnest, Albert, and Bernard. 

“Albert, Bernard, whaddya letting him wake me up so early for… it’s still dark out!”

Whining, you turned onto your tummy, raising the sheets up and over your head.

Albert and Bernard, the former the smallest and the latter the largest of the trio, floated above you, the small ghost tugging at your sheets with a giggle. 

“Wakey wakey! It’s time for breakie!”

Bernard similarly began tugging at your foot, which stuck out from under the covers, “Yeah! You told Grim and us to make sure you were bright n’ early today!”

Owwww henchman, that hurrrt! “What’s the big deal? You were the one that wanted to greet the dumb and dumber duo when they came back!” Nyeh, I can’t believe this is the thanks I get!

Bolting up from your bed and slamming face down as Bernard still held your leg, all your exhaustion left your body.

“Shit! I forgot!” Kicking your leg out of Bernard’s grasp, you scrambled to get up from your dirty (damn, when was the last time I cleaned up?) and begin your morning routine. 

Ever since you hosted the training camp for the SDC, and thus fell under the strict eye of Vil in the name of your skincare, you’ve maintained a simple but healthy routine after he provided everyone with his brand of skincare products. 

A few weeks after the performance, you grew nervous as your supply dwindled down, and Vil’s incessant need for beauty and perfection among his little spudlings (you still had no clue how you got roped in with Epel in that regard) had grown following the commotion between Idia and he other housewardens at S.T.Y.X. 

It was then that small, intricately wrapped packages began appearing on your doorstep every month with that very same brand and product. 

Dutifully, you followed the 15 step-by-step routine he had laid out for you, if just to avoid his wrath. 

Somehow, I’d bet he’d figure out I’m skipping out his routine, even at his internship.

The next hour flew breezed as you finished getting presentable. Grim entertained himself with your phone, presumably scrolling through Magicam. 

“Are you putting on makeup?”

You let out a small shriek, more surprised than frightened, jumping as you looked at Earnest floating right next to where you were standing. 

“Hehe, fancy new power and we can still spook ya!” He cackled gleefully, twirling himself upside down in the air.

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “It’s not like it works on you guys, probably because you're dead.”

“We’re dead!?” Albert cried in mock horror, poking his head through the wall of the bathroom while you cleaned up. “Why didn’t you tell us!?!?”

“Dummy!” Bernard phased through as well, hovering above Albert as he whacked his hat off (“Hey, that’s my good hat!”). “We’ve been dead for 840 years!”

“Oh yeah, I forgot!” 

Giggling, the three ghosts followed you back to your bedroom, where Grim was still scrolling through the Magicam feed. 

“Hey Henchman, do you think we’ll get new students in the dorm this year?”

“Hmm? Probably not.” You sighed as you looked through your closet for your most recently purchased uniform, trying to decide between a skirt or pants for the day. “Doesn’t the mirror assign us by the color of our soul, or whatever?”

Grim handed you your phone as you decided on the pleated uniform skirt with long striped socks that matched your tie. “The mirror couldn’t read my soul before without magic, plus I don’t think incoming students are exactly looking to be placed in a dorm called ‘Ramshackle’ anyways.”

Grabbing his own striped ribbon for you to tie into his usual bow, Grim’s voice entered your mind. 

I told you! We should’ve renamed it the Dazzling Dapper Dorm! “If those incoming freshies can’t appreciate our greatness, then they don’t deserve a spot anyways, harumph!”

“Oh, of course Grim!” You giggled as you adjusted the bow, arranging the gem on his collar to set neatly between the loops. “I wouldn’t want to share this space with anyone other than you anyways!”

Nyah! Exactly…purrrrr~

Scratching under your feline friend’s chin, you noticed Bernard and Albert “hiding” (you guys’ see through bodies don’t really help, huh?) boxes behind them, while Earnest held your old ghost camera at the ready. 

“... Yes?”

Giggling, Bernard floated up to you and Albert to Grim. “Revealing” the boxes behind their translucent bodies, you noticed that they were nicely wrapped in a light and dark gray striped box. 

They look a bit like the couches, cute. 

“Open them!” Bernard grinned wider, handing you the larger box while Grim got the smaller one from Albert. “We got them especially for you two, hehe.”

Squinting your eyes at the ghosts, you smiled and took your gift. You tried to focus on any semblance of their thoughts that might hint at what the gift was. It didn't work, of course, since you'd discovered during your summer here that ghosts were an exception to your telepathy. 

Ha? Why is henchman’s bigger than mine?! Grim’s thoughts still came loud and clear. You weren’t sure why ghosts’ thoughts were an exception, but it was nice to be surprised, since gaining your powers prevented anyone from hiding anything from you

Though, other times, reading other’s minds was actually quite helpful.

Like when Mrs. Spade, such a high-spirited and pretty lady really, immediately flooded your head with thoughts of excitement of meeting her son’s new “partners”.

She heard of you and Ace and your misadventures with Deuce, and was immediately smitten with the idea of her son with a cute duo that smothered her boy with affection as much as they got him in trouble. 

If you remembered correctly, she specifically thought: Wahhh! What a couple of cuties!! I didn’t know my little boy was so popular with such pretty people! I’m gonna have the cutest grandkids between these three!!! I’ve got to make sure I set them up together!

It took you hastily whispering to Deuce about her sweet, but frankly embarrassing thoughts to have him explain more thoroughly how your friend group worked. Though disappointed, she wasn’t completely convinced, but let you three be. 

Since you couldn’t hear the ghosts, however, you couldn’t whisper to any friend to make preparations for overexcited mothers or pranking ghosts. Instead, you opened your present with mild caution. 

“Oh!” You exclaimed excitedly, removing the cream white vest and ribbon from its box. You noticed that attached to the ribbon was an emblem of a shield crest. A tattered ribbon on the bottom that curled along the edges of the shield displayed the words ‘Ramshackle’ on it. In the middle, there was a crystal ball with the familiar face of a cat with glowing eyes, its flaming ears appearing like a vision in the ball. At the top center of the crest you recognized a three-pronged trident at the top, reminiscent of Grim’s tail. 

“Is this what I think it is?” You squealed, briefly removing your blazer to slip on the vest, then slipping the ribbon on your left arm, admiring yourself in the mirror. “I look so cool! Like an official student! What about you Grim?”

Grim grabbed your phone and brought it over to you. Propping it up to face himself, he preened over his reflection. Though the ribbon shorter and the emblem smaller, his own dorm ribbon looked as new and impressive as yours.

“I think you should send a picture to the others!” I really look like a mage now! “I bet they’re gonna be fawning all over the Great Grim, cause I look mighty!”

Chuckling at the silly poses he made, you obliged as you took out Magicam. While he continued his little poses, you took a quick mirror selfie, holding a peace sign before sending it over to the group chat you held with the other (now) second-years. Immediately, Deuce and Epel replied with phrases of affirmation and praise for your new uniform, while the other three liked your photo.

“Aw, why do that when I’ve been taking pictures over here like crazy!” Earnest whined, the flash still going off as he continued to take pictures of you two.  

“Ah sorry, sorry.” You picked up Grim (“MEH?!”) and motioned over the ghostly trio to you. “Let's all take a picture together!”

Earnest eagerly took a picture of the five of you, beaming smiles and all. As he and the other two ghosts crowded over the camera to take a look at the selfie, Albert spoke up. 

“We also got you two of you your own dorm uniform! You can thank the old ghost bride, Mrs. Eliza, for sending some of her old wedding attire! We added some additions to make it more you, but still kept the ghost flair.”

Winking, Albert continued, “We think you’ll like it! You’re truly a part of this dorm, and this school, so it’s time to dress like it!”

Speechless, you and Grim looked up at your companions in disbelief. Tears started to flood your eyes as you smiled. 

“Guys…thank you this is so sweet.” You wiped the corners of your eyes and fanned them, to keep the tears from streaking your makeup. “Where’d you even get all the materials, or the okay from Crowley to make this?” 

Snickering amongst themselves, Bernard waved you off and straightened your tie. “We spectral spookies have been here long enough that he can’t tell us what not or not to do!”

“Yeah!” Earnest continued snapping pictures, undoubtedly running it out of film. “We don’t work anywhere on the school grounds like the other ghosts, so he can’t tell us what to do. Anyways, you should head out! The first few students should be arriving at the Dark Mirror here soon.”

Nodding your head, you grabbed your phone and Grim, placing him on your shoulders. Eee! I’m tall again! Once he settled, you waved goodbye to the ghosts as you left your room. 

“We’ll be back later!” You hopped from the second to last stair into the lobby, giddy to see your friends again and ready to start a new school year in your new home. 

The walk to the Hall of Mirrors wasn’t long, but it did give you some time to contemplate your time at the school. A year ago, you wouldn’t have imagined yourself being here, let alone staying. 

Yet, your time here has been delightful as it has been stressful. Even with the blots, you’ve made friends and a family here. The thought of having to leave through the mirror was more distressing now than it would’ve been before. 

Speaking of mirrors, you arrived at the Hall of Mirrors. Entering the building, you waved at the Headmage, who was busy organizing the check-in procedures before the first students arrived. 

“Ah! Prefect!” Crowley waved back, delighted to see you. “Perfect timing, I need you to take charge of check-in for the students! I am busy with…my own matters, I’m sure you understand!”

He handed over a few items from the table set up a few feet at the entrance of the hall, which faced the Dark Mirror. 

It wouldn’t be Crowley if he didn’t make you work and take attendance for each time a student arrived through the mirror. 

You took the clipboard, pen, and an inch thick stack of papers containing each students’ names, picture, dorm, year and class number. 

Resolving yourself to the task, you nodded with exasperation. “Of course, Headmage. Happy to help.”

It’s nice to see them so delightfully acclimated to the school! At least he seemed to approve of your new and improved school uniform. And I still get my free school admin for another year! Classic headmage. 

“Wonderful!” he clapped his hands in delight, pushing you to the table. “We have a few students arriving at any moment, so do your best, lest we have to make some budget changes to your food allowance~”

Leaving in a flourish, you sighed and clicked your pen. Readying the barrage of students that would eventually arrive. 

Surprisingly, it was much more calm than you would expect from NRC, the students more preoccupied with claiming the best bedroom, rather than causing a ruckus. 

So far, you’ve only checked in the sophomores and juniors of Pomefiore and Heartslabyul, as the lineup started with the oldest dorms, down to the youngest. 

Let’s see, first Pomefiore, then Heartslabyul, Diasomnia, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Savanaclaw, and last is Ignihyde. I should be seeing Epel soon then?

“Hello, do I check in with you?” It’s really the Prefect…

Looking up you saw a tall, slim built man with near black, dark purple hair tied down into a high ponytail with a few features framing his tan face. He was incredibly beautiful, his purple eyeshadow and lipstick suiting him. You recognized him as one of the Pomefiore students that would come to collect Epel on the many occasions that he’d wander to your dorm seeking refuge from Vil.

“Yes! Can I get your name and student number?” you smiled, to which he politely returned

“Of course.” He looked you up and down with dark brown eyes. What a cute outfit, are those thighhighs? “Yev Quispe, 2-C18.” You’re just begging for someone to eat you up, aren’t you?

Smile faltering and turning uncomfortably red, you ignored his thoughts and flipped through your papers, finding his name. He’s one of the new housewardens?

“So you’re the one Vil appointed! Congrats!” you checked his name off your list while Grim handed Yev the keys to his dorm room. “I’m sure you know, but as a housewarden, please ensure that your dorm is ready to receive the freshman at the end of the week!”

Pretty bold of you to tell me what to do when you’ve only had magic for a few months. Smiling politely, Yev nodded. “Of course my dear, I will have my vice pick up the last of the- ack!”

W-what the!

Suddenly lurching forward, Yev, gasped as the arm of a short, white-haired rabbit beastman yanked him down to their height. Quite the contrast to Yev, this student was extremely pale with wide, bright red eyes and freckles all over his face down to his neck. 

“Hiya Y/N! Check me in won’t you?” He smiled, a familiar face finally! Prefect! They look good! “Timothy O’Hare 3-D19! Say why didn’t you visit me at the same time you saw Ace and Deucey~”

Holding on tight despite Yev’s struggle to remove his arm, Timmy pouted at you, looking away as he held his other hand to his eyes and faked cried. It’s been too long! 

“I wanna hangout with you too ya know!” Now that’s no fair—stop struggling Yev. “I’m a good boy~ Also, I’m here to pick up the froshies’ stuff before Riddle’s here, so fork it up!” I can’t be late!

“Nice to see you too, Timmy. Sorry, I only had the weekend to visit so I couldn’t go out much.” You handed him his keys, giggling once Yev managed to knock his arm off. “We can hang out more this year, I got bumped up for some third year classes, so we might see each other more!”

Surprise and delight entered Timmy’s features, who opened his mouth before he got interrupted. 

“Oi! Hurry it up, we have a line building up here!” Another student spoke up behind him, while the ever-growing line of boys started to murmur. 

I gotta get the better bed first, I don’t want one next to the vent again. 

I wonder if Sam’s store is open right now? Once I check in I’ll go see.

Oh dear, I wonder if they’re the only one doing check-ins right now?

Noticing the frustrated thoughts growing, you waved Timmy off, Yev already making it way to his dorm mirror. “Let’s talk later! I gotta get these guys going, tell Riddle to invite me to the next tea party!” 

Once Timmy left, it was fairly smooth sailing as you continued to check in students. Most of them were students you recognized from Heartslabyul unbirthday parties. You’d even had a few classes with some of the Pomefiore students, though you’d never heard their thoughts before. 

I can’t believe they stayed, they shouldn't have even been here. 

Why are they wearing that? They don’t even have an actual dorm, let alone colors!

They look nice~ No wonder those two idiots want to keep them for themselves. 

The longer you kept working, the more your smile dropped, looking rather uncomfortable. Though there were some nice thoughts, many being happy to see you, it was hard when you could practically feel the crude, spinecrawling thoughts of the more unsavory students. 

You brightened when Epel had eventually shown, but he left as soon as he came, claiming that he needed to “git in the good dangone bedroom” before it was snatched, leaving you alone with the rest of the school. 

Afterwhile, the students were becoming more preoccupied with claiming their rooms rather than focusing on your presence. This was when you were particularly grateful for your telepathy, as the minds of young adult men in college were just as funny. 

Sometimes you could see what a person was talking about, rather than hear it. The current student in front of you, a Pomefiore senior, was thinking about a breakdancing cat. It was also crying. 

The next student was singing a song in his head while visualizing what you presumed to be the  music video, with him as the lead singer. 

Never gonna give you up~ Never gonna let you down~ Never gonna run around and desert you~

You snorted, and covered it with a cough, at him as he grabbed his keys and continued to star in his imaginary music video.

You suddenly heard some loud voices fighting amongst themselves, turning more rowdy as you’re favorite ginger’s voice yelled out:

“Let me through! We get to skip the line.”

Another student angrily responded, “What! Why? We've been waiting for 15 minutes already! You just got here!”

“Special privileges as the esteemed Prefect’s favorite classmates!”

“Ace!” You heard Deuce hiss, sounding as exasperated as you felt, “Wait in line like everyone else!”

Shouting out and waving his hands, Ace smiled “Hey Prefect-”

“No!” You shouted back, the room suddenly silent as the two of you held each other’s glares.

“But-”

“No.”

“Prefect-”

“No.”

“But I don’t wanna-”

“Noooooooooo!” 

Ace pouted as you pointed your hand to the back of the line. Damn, I thought you loved me Prefect.

“Back to the line Ace! I’m not letting you shenan-once, just so you can shenanigan!”

DAMN! I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME!

Laughter bursted out as he dejectedly followed Deuce to the end of the line, the check in resuming as normal until the two met you at the front. 

Y/N! You look nice in your dorm colors! “Ace, don’t they look nice in their new uniform?” Deuce gave you a particularly tight hug, while Ace squeezed in and nuzzled his cheek into Grim’s, who claimed that “this is harassment!”. 

Despite his earlier embarrassment, Ace was more than happy to tease you as a small act of revenge.

“Heyy~ Prefect, look at you~” You tryin’ to get a boyfriend? “Wow I can’t believe you dressed up all for me! Unfortunately, I’m not into your type, sorry!” That’s illegal, you have to be lonely forever just like me.

You stuck your tongue out at Ace as he squeezed your cheeks, doing the same to you. 

“Ace, leave them alone!” Deuce rolled his eyes, huffing at both of your behaviors. Why are you both like this? “Have you been working all day for check in?” You should take a break soon.

You shrugged, “Yeah, but I’ll be taking a break soon anyways. I’m sure one of the ghost staff can take over.”

Ace frowned as you signed both he and Deuce in the sheet, “That kinda sucks.” Glad I’m not stuck here. 

“Oh!” Deuce held his fist in his hand as he suddenly became animated, a mannerism he still had to break. I know! “What if we help you out? We can drop off our stuff and come back, I’m sure the housewarden wouldn’t mind us helping since it’s just move-in day for the rest of us.”

Noooooooo, I wanna nap! Ace whined, “Don’t say we, I didn’t volunteer.” Prefect, say no thanks!

“Sure!” You chirped, smiling cheekily at a pouting Ace. “I’d love that! Just come right back and I’ll take a lunch. We can then finish check-in way faster with four of us!”

Deuce nodded as he took his and Ace’s room keys, who was still whining about “having to work right away!” You waved as they left through their dorm mirror, turning back to the task at hand. You noted that several students’ thoughts were growing increasingly frustrated with the long line, so you focused on getting your line down before the rowdy Savanaclaw students arrived. 

As the last of the Heartslabyul students were checking in, a mix of Diasomnia and Octavinelle students began arriving. 

A handful of the former had begun checking in, you noticed that Sebek and Silver were the first of their dorm to arrive. Giving a small wave, you smiled at them as the two sophomores, one of Heartslabyul and the other Pomefiore, when a very loud, almost migraine inducing thought AND shout emerged from the crowd. 

“SHRIMPYYYY~” The two students suddenly shoved out of the way as a pair of large, pale hands slammed themselves down on the desk SHRIMPYYYY~

You cringed at the volume of his voice and thoughts, looking up at the sharp-toothed grin of one of the most infamous students at Night Raven College. 

“Hi Floyd, you cut the line you know-”

“Shrimpyyy” he whined, slumping over the desk and looking up at you with his droopy eyes. “Don’t tell me off, aren’t you excited to see me? I’m very excited to see you~”

Hehe, so small~

He grinned and reached for your sides with grabby hands, “I’ve been waiting to give the cutest little shrimpy a good squeeeeeeeze~” Let me at you!

You squeaked as he grabbed you by your waist and held you up like a parent holding a toddler. Suddenly, your vision blurred and dizzy. 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

“AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

Gripping onto his shoulders, you clutched your arms around him, willing yourself to not throw up. 

“FLOYD, PLEASE, I’M GONNA PUKE!”

Slowing down, still giggling, he set you down on your wobbly feet. “Eeeeeh? You’re fine Shrimpy!”

Hehe, look at them wobble like they're fresh on land! So cuteeee~

“Floyd! You can’t just cut the line!” approaching sternly, exasperated, Azul impatiently tapped his foot. I don’t know what else I’d expect, honestly. 

 Holding on the end of the table, where Grim was still checking in (working for once), you gave Azul a small wave.

“Hi Azul, how’s it going? Gimme a sec, everything is still dizzy…”

Poor little thing. Azul smiled politely at you, “Hello Prefect, it’s nice to see you again, I must say it’s nice to see you acclimating so well to the school culture!”

It’s unfortunate, I won’t ever get Ramshackle at this rate.

“Ha, thanks Azul, uh I’m gonna have to ask you both to head to the back of the line to check in.” You smiled apologetically, gesturing to the back. 

“Oh of course! It wouldn’t be fair to-”

“Nah, I don’t wannaaa!” Floyd whined, draping his arm and weight over Azul who buckled slightly under him, “Jade, you don’t wanna wait either, right?”

Looking behind Floyd and Azul, you saw the other Leech twin approach, his usual polite smile on his face. 

“Now now Floyd, let’s not make the Prefect’s job harder than it needs to be.” He replied, soft-spoken, with his hand up to his chest, “I’m sure they’d like to make an exception if they could, isn’t that right Prefect?”

Smiling in relief, you opened your mouth to reply when Jade’s thoughts floated through, crystal clear with no room for doubt, in your mind. 

Little pearl, I missed you! Did you dress up just for me~ Look at you, pretty little two-legs. Oooooh~ I’d like to flip that skirt up and bend you over-

You saw a mental image of you, bent over the table with Jade over you, skirt lifting up as his hands slid from your legs up to your-

*CRASH*

Pain shot up your wrist, your head throbbing, looking up at the Grim from the floor. In your shock from the unexpectedly lewd thoughts from the usually polite and formal Jade, your hand had slipped from the table you’d been leaning on, banging your head on the edge and falling on your wrist.

“Henchman!” Grim cried out, jumping from the table to look at you as the trio looked over you with concern. You locked eyes with Jade and froze, physically feeling the red flush from the tips of your toes to the top of your head.

“Oh my, Prefect, are you alright?” Look how red they are, how cute~ Are you embarrassed? Don’t worry my pearl, you’re cute when clumsy. Why didn’t you fall onto me? I would’ve caught you. 

Jade held a hand out to you, his smile betraying nothing. “Here, let me help you up.”

I’ll take you to the nurse! Then I’ll heal you up, you’ll be so grateful~ You’ll give me a kiss then, won’t you?

Another scene, this time of you in an infirmary bed, Jade hovering over you as you looked into each other’s eyes longingly. 

“Oh Jade, you’ve been taking such good care of me. I don’t know how to thank you!” “Dear Pearl, it’s my pleasure to care for someone as lovely as you. But, there is no need to thank me.” “I need to Jade! Maybe—” You unbutton your blouse, blushing as you looked up at Jade shyly. “—I can thank you… with my body…”

You bolted up, surprising Jade and the others near you, and shrieked at the top of your lungs. “NOTHANKYOUIMFINETHANKSFORASKING!”

Everyone nearby looked at you in shock, Grim included, as Ace and Deuce entered the mirror chamber. Approaching you, they looked at the small crowd that had gathered, confused. 

“Hey Prefect, we came to help.” Deuce looked between you and Jade nervously, “Is everything alright-”

“YES! Everything is fine, I just need a break!!” shoving the clipboard you’d been using into Ace’s hand, you rushed out of the Hall of Mirrors. 

Oof! Hey!

Huh?! Prefect?

“Okay thanks, I’mheadingoutnowbye!!!!” Flying out of the room fast enough to have Coach Vargas begging to have you in the track and field club, you made it to your dorm in mere minutes. 

Slamming the front door behind you, you slid down to the floor. Cradling your burning face, Jade’s words played on repeat like a scratched CD. 

Little pearl~

Pretty two-legs.

You’re cute when you’re clumsy.

I’d like to flip that skirt up and bend you over-

“Oh my god, oh my god, ohmygodmygodgodgod-” you shrieked into your hands. You’d brushed off crude comments from the other students, and even enjoyed the sexual jokes Ace would make in his head at your expense, bantering back with him. 

But hearing something so risqué and just straight-up raunchy from Jade Leech. A polite, albeit unsettling man. All your conversations had either been formal, patronizing, even outright mean during your first interactions with the contract fiasco. 

“I’d never even- I can’t believe-” you curled into a ball. “When? How? WHY???”

You sobbed. Were you shocked? Yes. A bit horrified? More than a bit. Embarrassed? You were hyperventilating in the fetal position after turning a 20-minute walk into a 5-minute sprint to your dorm, so take from that what you will. 

How am I supposed to speak to him now? I don’t even like him, he’s scary! Oh my god, did he have these thoughts before? Are they always so-so-so explicit? He said he wanted to bend me-Oh my GOOOOOOOOOD!

The floor became the victim to your muffled screams and sobs. You failed to notice Earnest floating past the hall to the living room. 

Upon seeing your sobbing, shaking form, he turned back the way he came. “Nope!”

You eventually calmed down, turning over to stare at the ceiling, the clock in the kitchen showed that it was half-past one. You’d been sobbing on the floor for roughly an hour. 

Groaning, you took your phone from your pocket. “Oooooooh crap, Grim and the others are probably wondering where the hell I am.” True to your word, you had well over 20 missed messages and even a few calls from your friends on both Magicam and Twister. 

@traaaaaaaaapola: ayo?? wya dont leave me alone w juice

@deuce♠️: are u ok did something happen?

@traaaaaaaaapola: bitch come back im nah getting paid for this

@JackHowl: Hey, I heard you hurt yourself earlier, are you okay?

@vilmademechangethis: deuce said you ran off u ok???

@deuce♠️: its been a while, are you okay?

@traaaaaaaaapola: i didnt mean to call you a bitch come back ily

@traaaaaaaaapola: bae pls ur loml come back riddle is yelling at us for not being at the dorm

@deuce♠️: Y/N?????

@traaaaaaaaapola: me and juice are coming to the dorm to check on you

@leechj: I hope you’re okay, Prefect. Let me know if you’re in need of assistance, I’m more than happy to provide. :)

You stared at the last message, contemplating on whether you’d resume your fetal position or instead launch yourself off the roof. Super healthy response to learning that someone likes you. 

Like is putting it lightly. There’s no way those are normal thoughts for someone with a crush. God, who actually thinks things like that! It’s like a boy entering puberty and finding porn for the first time. Groooooooss!

Someone knocked at the front door you’d been leaning at, and Deuce called out. “Y/N? It’s us, we brought you snacks, can you let us in please?” 

We know you can hear us, please Y/N. 

I’m not even mad anymore! I got to be incharge of everyone. It was nice. 

Slowly, you stood, groaning from your stiff back, and opened the door. You peaked out to look at the two, and a sleeping Grim in Ace’s arms. Noting the lack of any others, you opened the door wider and gestured to them. 

Stepping in, both boys looked at you softly, Ace pointing to your face.

“You, uh, been crying?”

You wiped at your face, your fingers smudged with black eyeliner. 

“...A lil bit.”

What happened? Deuce placed a bag from you presumed Sam’s shop on the ground and peered closer to your face. “Everyone said you fell and hurt yourself on the table. Is that all?”

Shifting uncomfortably, you nodded your head. 

Did someone hurt you? Ace came back from the living room, where he’d placed Grim on the couch. 

“Nuh-uh” you hummed. 

All three of you stood in uncomfortable silence, the other two waiting for you to explain further. But you remained quiet, refusing to meet their eyes. 

Until Ace opened his mouth, trying to deflate the situation “What did you hear someone’s dirty thoughts or something-”

“Yes.”

“...What”

“Yes. I heard dirty thoughts.”

“O-oh.” Deuce stuttered. “That’s all-”

“I heard Jade’s dirty thoughts.”

Both stiffen.

“I heard Jade’s dirty thoughts about bending me over-”

“What” Ace choked. 

“— And flipping my skirt over-” Deuce made a sputtering noise.

“— I think he must be an exhibitionist cause i think he wanted to fuc-”

Both rushed over to smack their hands over your mouth, effectively cutting off your rambling. Deuce was burning a deep red that would rival Riddle’s hair, while Ace held a poker face. 

“........”

“.............”

“........................”

“Pffft-AHAHAHAHAAAAA!” Ace bursted out laughing, falling to the ground in hysterics. 

“NO WAY! JADE LEECH?!” He pounded his fist on the floor, heaving for air between laughs.

You started pounding on his back as Ace turned over and held his arms up in defense. “Don’t laugh! Do you know how embarrassing it was to hear that? How would you-STOP LAUGHING!!”

You started pulling at the ginger’s hair, who was still giggling as he held onto your hands to keep you from scalping him. 

“Ace! Stop laughing, they’re obviously embarrassed.” Deuce sighed, still red, looking as if he’d age 30 years suddenly.

Was that all?

Your head snapped to glare at him. “What do you mean ‘was that all?” HOW’D YOU FEEL IF SOMEONE WAS TALKING ABOUT FUCKING YOU IN FRONT OF EVERYONE?!”

Embarrassment fueling your rage, you got up to hit Deuce. Honor student be damned, his delinquent past made an appearance as he grabbed your hands and twisted them so that he pressed them against your back. 

“IT WASN’T EVEN JUST THOUGHTS, I SAW THINGS TOO!”

Sighing, Deuce let you struggle in his grasp until you froze as Ace spoke up.

“He didn’t actually say anything though? It was thoughts, which might I remind you, are supposed to be private.” 

Shrugging out of Deuce’s hold, you pouted as Ace continued.

“Telepathy isn’t something that’s heard of, even here.” He reached into the bag the other had brought with you and threw you a bottle of your favorite drink while he opened his own bottle of soda.

Deuce hummed in agreement, “Yeah, I mean you can’t fault someone for thinking stuff. Especially since no one else really knows about your, uh, thing.”

You sighed, sipping your beverage.

“...I guess. It’s still weird though. Other’s make little comments here or there, but they’re always short, something I can ignore as typical college guys and their rudeness. But this?”

Both winced a bit, understanding why you were at the very least uncomfortable. 

Yeah…

We get it…

“Look, it’s not like you have to be cool with it, but-” Ace threw an arm over your shoulder. “-you’d better get used to it, Jade’s definitely not the only one you’re gonna be hearing things from.”

Lots of the students here find you pretty hot you know~

“Huh.” You deadpan at him, mouth agape. 

“What? I thought you knew, lots of the students talked about you and how cute you are.”

Ace smacked his hand into Deuce’s chest. “Right Deuce?”

Grunting and smacking Ace back, he nodded. “Yeah, we thought you knew Prefect, lot’s of the others in our classes would talk about you, especially after dealing with the first overblot.”

You’re awfully pretty Y/N, didn’t you know?

“You better get used to it then.” Ace dragged you over to the dorm kitchen to sit. 

“Not just in general, but with Jade too. Didn’t you say you had the third-year potions class before we left for break?”

You might end up seeing him more often, and hearing him more often too. 

You furrowed your eyebrows at that comment, waving him off. 

“It’s just the potions class, there’s like five different classblocks.” You huffed, resting your head on the cool table. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. We hardly interacted in the shared freshman/sophomore classes.” 

You took a long sigh and ignored the two men’s shared glance. 

It’s a big school, and I hardly visited the Monstro Lounge anyways. I bet I’ll be able to count our interactions on one hand by the end of the year!

It was a few days before the opening ceremony, you and Grim decided to split up and see where your classes would be. Since you had little expectations for new Ramshackle students, you two were able to be a bit more leisurely during preparations. 

You’d sent Grim to scout out the morning classes, while you wandered the hall for the afternoon ones, seeing as a few of them were advanced classes with the juniors. 

That was alright though, you weren’t just the magicless human now. You were the Ramshackle Prefect, now a semi-capable mage with a surprising affinity for potionology, even before. 

Potionology was actually quite enjoyable, as you’d discover it wasn’t magic dependent. Rather, it reminded you of cooking back in your home world, following simple instructions and measurements.

 At least, the type of cooking could actually follow, you shuddered at having to follow the instructions your mother would give: “take a little bit and then watch it and once it looks good add a bunch of this—pay attention! Put that one over there in the pot!”

Yeah, Crewel is a saint compared to cooking with mom. 

You continued your relaxed pace, looking down at your copy of the schedule. You’d notice that the classes that had required little to no magic last year: potionology, history, musicology, and even magic analysis, were quite easy for you since it focused on the theory of magic. 

Looking up at the classroom numbers, you looked for class 3-H for your next class. You noted that following lunch, you had Ancient History, followed with Advanced Magical Potions as your last class of the day.

Ah, it looks like me and Grim got placed into the afternoon Magical Potions class. Thanks to my hard work last year, I got us to take the advanced class with the juniors, so I might ask-

“Why, hello Prefect.” 

You froze, turning to the 6’2” man towards you from down the hall. 

There you are my pearl. “I was worried about your incident during check in, tell me did you make it home alright?” I missed the opportunity to care for you~

“Ah, Jade.” You shuffled nervously and smiled politely at him. 

He’s thinking sorta normal thoughts, so that’s good.

“I’m alright, there’s no need to worry about me. If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing exploring the halls? You need to prep your dorm for the freshman, right?”

So sweet, are you curious about me? Cutecutecutecutecute-

“Why yes, but I figured that I’d see where my classes would be at and prepare the most efficient route. Are you doing the same?”

You nodded, relaxing a bit. “Yes, I’m looking for my afternoon classes, a bunch of them are the advance classes for juniors, so I’m trying to figure out where they are.”

Showing Jade the class schedule in your hand, you pointed to the potions class. 

“I was looking for class 3-H for my potionology class, you wouldn’t happen to know where it is?”

Ah… YES!

Slightly jumping, you noticed that Jade’s smile grew ever so slightly. One would think he was just being nice, but you knew better.

“Why yes,” Thank the Sea Witch!! “I happen to have that very same class with you, just down the hall.” Same class with Y/N!

Wait what.

“O-oh, what a…nice surprise!” you stammered out, forcing a smile back.

A VERY nice surprise, I’m delighted that you agree. 

“Indeed. I look forward to seeing you every day this year, Prefect.”

Hopefully we’ll be seatmates, and I’ll have the chance to gaze upon your sweet face every single day! Those soft eyes, sweet lips, oh I wonder do you taste as delicious as you look?

A vision of you and Jade again. This time, he was pressing you up against the wall of the hallway. This version of Jade pressed open-mouthed kisses against your neck, hands guiding your legs and arms to wrap around him. 

Soft lips and sharp teeth pressed into the crook of your neck, as you let out a heady moan.  “Jaaaaaaade~” you gasped, pressing your own kisses unto his temple.  He hummed, licking up the blood from the bite he left. “Fuhuhu~ I was right my darling, you’re sweet enough for me to eat up.” 

You could feel the sweat drop from your temple, forcing yourself to keep your smile steady. 

“Aha… Looking forward to it.”

This is gonna be a long year, isn’t it?

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

APRIL FOOLS, I HAVE A PREVIEW FOR YA!

This is no joke! I have a preview of Part 2 of "Dress Up" for y'all. The prank was that I said previously that I was taking a small break from writing but GET PRANKED cuz here's a sneak peak!

The ~~~ indicate flashbacks!

No active warnings for this part, only slight inferences of sexual things! But don't worry, there will be smut later in the chapter hehe~

"You know, if you don't quit pacing back and forth, you're gonna wear out the carpet," Husk remarked, attempting to get Lucifer's attention in his anxious state.

It had only been a week since the proposal and the wedding was already here. But this is what you both wanted; a nice quiet wedding with only a handful of people with everyone else in Hell being none the wiser. You had to beg Lucifer for the week you got in between, he was practically ready to say "I do" once he put that engagement ring on your hand. It may have seemed like you two were moving a little bit fast considering most weddings take months, sometimes years to plan out! But when you're marrying the King of Hell, there really was next to nothing to worry about when it came to your special day.

The new hotel was the perfect venue, complete with a beautiful ballroom that could rival any chapel on Earth. The guest list was extremely exclusive consisting of only the occupants of the hotel, minus one Radio Demon, not that he would attend even if he was invited. It was Charlie who suggested that he protect the hotel today from any threat that might make itself known. On top of that, Charlie was more than happy to be the officiant, as being the Princess of Hell granted her that authority. Money was no object to the Morningstar family, so no expense was spared.

But regardless of any of that, Lucifer couldn't help but worry. You had one other request for him after he popped the question.

~~~

"I hate to ask more of you after asking for a week to prepare," you started, putting on the last of your clothes that you had discarded during your fun little teasing display, "but..." Lucifer approached you suddenly and held your hand in both of his.

"My love, you can ask of me anything you wish. There is no limit when it comes to you. You've already given me the best gift of becoming my future bride. Anything in my power is yours for the asking, you just name it!" He leaned down and planted a small kiss on the back of your hand. You couldn't help but blush, he never failed to charm you.

"This may sound a little odd, considering what just took place a few minutes ago," you breathed out a sigh, "but...what would you say to refraining from any...intense intimacy?" Lucifer cocked his eyebrow and smirked, seemingly intrigued. "B-but only for this week, I promise! Kissing and cuddling would still be on the table, of course. And no deliberate teasing from me, that wouldn't be fair. I was just thinking that...I want our first night as a married couple to be special. And I figured holding off for the time in between would only heighten the experience. If that's not something you want, I completely understand that-MMPH," you were silenced by Lucifer's soft lips on yours.

"Oh darling, was that all?," he flashed his signature toothy grin at you. "That's hardly a request! I think that's a wonderful idea...n-not that I don't want to ravish you at any given time! But you're right, I couldn't imagine a better honeymoon than getting the chance to feel you again after being denied for a few days, even though it may feel like an eternity. I'll be on my best behavior; you have my word!"

~~~

And Lucifer was on his best behavior, for the most part, at least. There were a few instances where his hands had traveled a little too low on your body and some kisses became deeper than they should have. But both of you managed to make it through the week! But today was the day, and his anxiety was at an all-time high. You decided to sleep in separates rooms the night before, wanting the next time you saw each other to be at the altar. That was the plan, at least.

It had been a while since Lucifer had slept alone. Suffice to say he couldn't sleep. He assured you that he would be alright sleeping alone for just one night, but that ended up being easier said than done. The empty bed he laid in brought back painful memories of his first night without Lilith, something that still haunted him to this day. There would be times where Lucifer would wake up in a cold sweat, only to glance over to see you peacefully asleep, and he could breathe again. Anytime you felt him tug you closer to him in the middle of the night, you knew what had woken him up. He never hid his feelings from you when he confided in you about his ex, and you didn't mind that he would wake you when his nightmares overwhelmed him. You loved him and he loved you. You would never leave. So when you heard your door creek open in the middle of the night to see your fiancé standing in the door frame, you only smiled and gestured him to you.

~~~

"I-I'm sorry," he sobbed quietly, "I tried...I really did...I-"

"Hey, hey, shh, it's alright," you soothed and brought him into a tight embrace. You felt a tear that had fallen from his face make its way down your collarbone. "Don't cry, Luci, I'm not upset, not at all." You lifted his head up to wipe away his remaining tears. "Let's get some sleep. We have a big day tomorrow." You planted a kiss on his forehead, and from the dim red light that shown through your windows, you could see a small smile appear on his face. He laid down, his back facing you as you wrapped your arms around him and brought him flush to your chest. You could hear his breathing start to even about again.

"I don't deserve you," he murmured.

"You know I think the same thing every day," you responded.

He interlaced his fingers with yours at your words, squeezing you hand softly. "Promise me you'll never think that again. Please. You deserve everything and more."

"Alright," you conceded, kissing the back of his head, "as long as you promise me the same thing. You're my everything, and I'll spend the rest of my afterlife showing you that."

"Okay," he spoke weakly. You intertwined your legs with his, bringing yourself as close to him as possible. "I still intend to keep my other promise. I'll be gone before you wake up."

"You can stay as long as you need to," you whispered before drifting off to sleep once more.

~~~