#hes must really have it down too bc hes really gotta be on his toes for demons 24/7 so to ball like that | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hansolmates · 4 years

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here comes the bride, all dressed in pride

summary; You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating, lang, alcohol, mc eats meat, tw sexual harassment, toxic family, dick talk, making out, if u have that one family member that pulls bs on you constantly this is it, this fic is for all the people who have a huge ass family who wont leave them alone w.c; 17.3k a/n: my second fic for gcn’s 23 birthday project! the fact that wedding szn zoomed by us like that... and so bc im sad that so many weddings had to be postponed this fic was born! a huge thank u to vivi @eerieedits / @chillingtae for creating this BEAUTIFUL fic banner and separator pls check vivi out to make your fics all purty

prompts used: “You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?” and “I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

if you enjoyed this pls consider giving a like and a share💕💕

Doyeon likes to call Jungkook, “the one who got away.”

You like to call Doyeon, “the one who drove him away.”

In secret, of course. In fact, the only person who knows how much you loathe Doyeon and her behavior is your father. And all your co-workers. And your boss. And your boss’ ex-husband.

And Jeon Jungkook, but of course you haven’t seen the man in two years and back then he was far too polite to address his concerns of your hatred of his then-girlfriend.

Okay, so everyone and their mother knows how much you don’t like your cousin. Kim Doyeon and you have had beef since the sandbox, and for whatever reason is always out to one-up you. A strange competitive nature in everything, academics, family, and even boys. The sick, twisted part of you has come to enjoy it. While you’re not a fighter as devout as Doyeon is, you have your own callous tendencies farmed from the seeds Doyeon has planted in your brain. She gives you a comment? You can’t help but throw one back. Since you’re a painfully mature soul you don’t have any mortal enemies as far as you know, Doyeon is the perfect amount of hot water to keep you on your toes.

“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t be a bridesmaid,” Doyeon cooes next to you, swirling her champagne glass with a too-jutted pout, “but if I did there’d be an odd number of pairings and you’re a little too old to be walking as a bridesmaid, am I right?”

Your nails. Are digging. Through your dress. Alas, you’re in public and you have class. Doyeon smiles at you with all teeth, reminding you of the Beldam from Coraline. Aside from that she looks absolutely stunning in that Lirika Matoshi strawberry dress that has her Instagram aching with likes and love from her baseless followers.

“I don’t know,” you reply lightly, leaning back in your seat, “I mean, if Yoojung and Rena can be bridesmaids and they’re three years older than me, wouldn’t I make the cut? It’s okay to be honest and say you just didn’t want me in the bridal party.”

Doyeon laughs, slaps your thigh like you told her the most hilarious joke in the world. Anyone passing by would think you’re best friends. You laugh too, incredulous at the amount of power she thinks she holds.

“Nice party,” you tack on, surveying the room. It’s filled with pastels and beiges, bright and airy. It’s Parisian themed, and while you’re not a fan of theming cultures, you can’t deny that you’re loving the infinite supply of macarons.

“Oh, yes. This is just a taste of the real wedding,” she laces her fingers together, as if she thinks she’s living an Elizibethean love story, “speaking of, you put on your RSVP that you’re bringing a plus one. Am I allowed to know who’s the unlucky date?”

“As if you care.”

“I care if you’re bringing Jimin. That tiny thing nearly gave Aunt Lillian a heart attack when he gave a striptease at Yoongi’s graduation party.”

You smirk softly at the bold memory. That was the plan.

Doyeon sighs dramatically, crossing her legs and popping out a cherry red heel. She plays with the back on the balls of her feet, letting the little pearly rhinestones glisten in the candlelight, “I should really commend you, cousin,” she drawls, “I mean, how kind of you to be so charitable and give your dopey friends a chance to have fun. After all, I’m sure it is difficult for someone like you to find a date.”

It’s no surprise as to how you end up with a date at any family formal gathering. You say you bring a plus one, and then between Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok. The three of them draw straws as to who gets to gorge on free alcohol and food for that night.

“Difficult?” you arch a brow, “I get plenty of dates.”

Doyeon giggles. She must be feeling extra vindictive today, high on her impending marriage and the taste of bubbly champagne. “By taking turns with those three? You gotta be kidding me,” she snorts, tipping back her crystal, “please y/n. Don’t get so defensive because I’m getting married first. Your time will come. That is, if you stop dicking around with your friends.”

Normally you’d smother any attempt at Doyeon to call out your friends, but now she’s just done that and insulted your ability to get some, and you are livid.

“Actually,” you quip sharply, “I’ve been dating someone. It’s been a couple months, actually.”

“Oh?” Doyeon’s genuinely interested, face falling slightly, “you’ve never mentioned anyone, I don’t see anyone on your social media.”

“Yeah well,” you feign sympathy, pressing your lips together and tilting your head accordingly, “I’ve had to keep it private for a couple of reasons.”

“What, is he ugly or something?” she chuckles, “but really, who’s the person who has the misfortune of being in a committed relationship with you?”

Maybe it’s because Doyeon’s right, the both of you are too old. The two of you have been running around each other for years, with no end in sight. Maybe, the words that linger on the tip of your tongue will be the final nail in the coffin.

“Jeon Jungkook,” you state proudly, clear as day. “Jungkook and I have been dating for three months.”

And you pick up the vanilla macaron that sits innocently on your plate, ravishing it up like it contained all the tension in your table. Between you and Doyeon’s bubble, you could hear a pin drop.

“Jungkook?” her smile is concrete-solid, “my Jungkook?”

“My Jungkook,” you correct, giving her a puppy-eyed look, “I’m really sorry I never told you. I mean, is there ever a right time to tell your cousin they’re dating their ex-boyfriend?” you laugh, either to lighten the mood or because you love the way Doyeon pinches her face, you don’t know.

“How did you two even meet?”

“We reconnected through Seokjin. You know how the two of them play Starcraft together, I just ended up joining the call and he was so funny and nice. We just sorta… felt it.” Doyeon nods like a slow bobblehead, still comprehending in her pea-sized brain, “I just hope it isn’t too awkward. I know it’s been awhile but, if you really don’t want Jungkook to come I can always take Hoseok or something.”

“No, it’s fine,” Doyeon says a little too quickly, masking on her picture-perfect smile. “I’m with Namjoon now, and I’m totally happy. Water under the bridge, it’ll be totally fine.”

“Really?” your eyes practically sparkle, thankful for the amount of glitter and highlighter you’ve dumped on your face today, “I really appreciate it, Yeonie.”

And she quickly downs her champagne glass, and gets up from her seat. It’s haunting, the way she gets up, pink tulle billowing around her ankles. “I have to attend to the other guests,” she says.

“Of course,” you raise your glass.

“But, be careful,” she gives you a little smile, one filled with a last-ditch attempt at a jab, “Jungkook, he’s a little hard to deal with.”

“Oh don’t worry. I know how to deal with Jungkook’s hardness,” you wink, and Doyeon’s face falls like a ton of bricks.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” you shrug loftily, “that’s what I meant, though.”

And you don’t bother watching Doyeon stomp off the metaphorical stage, double fisting two new glasses of champagne from an awaiting butler as she finds some other poor guest to pick on. Now, the matter of securing your date. Conveniently so, the most important man in the room is walking your way, and you manage to snag his tie just as he passes your table.

“Ow—ow! I’m choking!” Seokjin grabs, nearly throwing his tall body onto your lap, hands grappling to release the tension on his neck. “Leave me alone, woman! I just wanted to get some chicken tenders!”

“Jin,” you say sweetly, opening his blazer to retrieve his phone, “I need Jeon’s number, now.”

“Jungkook?” your favorite cousin pales, eyes widening as you take out your phone of your own, copying down the digits, “what did you do?”

“Don’t ask questions.”

Seokjin says your name again, firmer. “You’re playing with fire.”

“It’ll be fine, it’s the last time,” you quell, already knowing how much Seokjin hates being in the middle of your fights. Once you’ve secured the phone number, you place Seokjin’s phone back into his pocket, patting his breast. “Thank you. You know you’re my favorite cousin, you know that?”

He grumbles a “damn right I am” before stomping away, resuming his race for his chicken tenders.

You: hey jeon it’s y/n. I see you’re doing great, i saw on instagram that you released your first app w/yoongi! Totally amazing, been playing for weeks, really upset that i can’t get past the flaming frog boss :((

You: Feel free to ignore this, i won’t blame you if you do. Im at doyeon’s rehearsal dinner, and she basically snubbed my friends and said i couldn’t get some prime dick even though im?? Me??? Anyway, im tired of her shit so im gonna throw it back at her, one last time before she ties the knot. I told her you and i have been dating, and im bringing you as my date to her wedding. Really sorry, the demons took over my brain and made the worst and best comeback of my life. So… if you’re up for being the hottest couple on the floor in three weeks and showing how madly in love we are, please text me back? Or not. You might think this family is crazy and i accept partial responsibility.

You: I’ll buy u every meal for every practice date we have if u agree.💕💕💕

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: thanks, i appreciate that. To defeat the frog boss, go back to the coconut cave and find the garnet garter. It absorbs his fire and u can easily defeat froggo w any level 15 weapon

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: and as for the real reason u texted me. Im in. let’s get pork belly tomorrow.

Two years ago, you were surprised that Doyeon could manage to snag a man as fine as Jeon Jungkook. Also unsurprised, because Doyeon is gorgeous and could snag any man she wanted, and has snagged every man she wanted.

Jungkook was different though. He had an air of innocence to him. He loved her, a little too much to be safe. Your heart would betray you every time you would find him at a family gathering, making her plate and counting the calories she so meticulously measured. How can someone so sweet be with someone like Doyeon?

Your heart ached for Jungkook when they broke up a year later. From what you heard, Doyeon was Jungkook’s first serious girlfriend. And then you wanted to rip your heart out a week later when you caught Doyeon smooching with her favorite graduate professor Kim Namjoon, wanting to erase any possibility you’d have at love. At that time, you never wanted to feel the pain you imagined Jungkook was going through.

“Y/n! Over here!” you’re a little taken aback at how much has not changed in Jungkook. His eyes still sparkle like fresh dew, his smile is still pearly white and infectious. He’s even early, snagging a table at his favorite barbeque place and waiting for you as if he is the one organizing your first date.

At the same time, there’s so much that’s changed about him. He’s confident, even going so far as to walk over to you and slip your jacket and purse in his grasp like a gentleman. He leads you by putting a hand lightly at the small of your back, making you feel impossibly small in comparison to his Dorito-shaped body, broad shoulders and a deliciously trim waist.

“How was the walk over?”

“Not too bad,” the conversation is casual, easy. You wipe the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. “Could use a little exercise now and again. I did eat a whole tray of macarons at that rehearsal dinner.”

Jungkook laughs from his belly, causing you to smile. “Nonsense. You look great, by the way,” you don’t mind it, actually, you enjoy it when his eyes rake over your body. After all, he’s now your boyfriend and he needs to get familiar with all the important bits. He leans his arms forward, bracing him against the wooden table so his face is closer to yours.

“You’re not doing too bad yourself,” your eyes gloss over the veins and intricate tattoos that paint his muscled upper half. Your smile morphs into a smirk, letting him know you’re enjoying the view just as well as he is.

And as soon as the tension sparks, it ends just as fast when your waiter comes up to light your grill.

“So,” Jungkook wastes no time in decorating your stove, making sure to add all the appropriate aromatics and infusions to season your lunch, “do you know why Doyeon and I broke up?”

“Cheated on you with Namjoon, I assume,” you keep your eyes trained on the darkening meat.

Jungkook slips a piece of meat in his mouth. Any expression of pain (whether it be from Doyeon or the barely cooked meat) doesn’t reveal itself as he stops to take a sip of water. “Who else knows?”

“Just me and Seokjin. The family loved you too much and Doyeon made up some sob story about how you two were going different life paths.”

He chuckles to himself, taking great care in flipping the meat. “I really was a fool in love, wasn’t I?”

“It… was mildly cute.”

“Tell me the truth, you have no reason not to.”

“Okay, you made me want to vomit rainbows and glitter every time I saw you.”

The two of you laugh, faces crinkling shamelessly as the two of you busy yourselves with setting up the table. Most of the food is done and the aroma of fresh onions wafts around your grill. As you place chopsticks on his side of the table, you think about all the times Jungkook made it abundantly clear how much he loved Doyeon: the love letters tucked into her purse, 100 day anniversaries, even just a simple Americano for her in the morning.

“Is that why you never hung out with us?”

“No,” you reply lightly, “Doyeon made it clear that I shouldn’t talk to you.”

Jungkook frowns, “You really don’t like each other, do you.”

You shrug, “Just always been like that,” you quirk a smile when Jungkook places the freshly cooked meat on top of your rice before serving himself.

“So what’s the plan?”

“We go to the wedding, make out a little, get Doyeon boiling. Even if she’s not interested in you, she’d still be upset knowing we are together.”

“And why is that?”

“Because it’s me,” you grin into your glass, staring at a water-stained Jungkook through the blue tinted glass. “And all you have to do, is enjoy your night and look pretty.”

His eyes crinkle, chopsticks pressing between his lips. “You think I look pretty?”

With a roll of eyes you don’t respond, preferring to dig your chopsticks in your rice. No need to inflate Jungkook’s ego too soon.

Pinning the main theme of your hangout to the side, the both of you dig into your meal. You throw conversation back and forth like pebbles, grains of sand that build and build until you’re caught up with each other’s lives. It feels so strange to admit it’s been two years since you’ve spoken to the man, and all of a sudden the once luscious meat feels dry in your mouth.

“Jeon,” you put your chopsticks down, “are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean, I know it’s all my fault and I dragged you into it. Don’t feel obligated to agree to this.”

“I’m a hundred-percent sure,” he doesn’t stop eating, shoving two spoonfuls of rice in his mouth. His cheeks puff up considerably, and your eyes trail down to his neck as he swallows, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna.”

“Right,” you don’t need a big explanation or a personal confession from Jungkook, just his consent. “Partners, Jeon?” you hold up your glass.

“Partners,” he agrees easily. The smile on his face disarms you, a full-fledged grin decked with pearly whites. Clicking his glass to yours he adds, “And it’s Jungkook, babe.”

Oh, this is going to be interesting.

Seokjin thinks the two of you are the most boring fake-couple.

His eyes dart back and forth between your spot on the couch and his desk, where Jungkook is currently seated. Seokjin is hovered over Jungkook, who’s typing and clicking furiously over his PC game. You’re on your phone, feet pulled up to the coffee table while some old Netflix movie plays in the background. To top it all off both of you didn’t even try to dress like it’s daytime, nearly matching in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It doesn’t look like a couple coming to visit Seokin, it looks like Jungkook is playing video games with Seokjin while his cousin hangs around like she owns the place.

“Shouldn’t you guys like, I don’t know, go on dates or something?” Seokjin feels like he’s talking to the air. “Maybe get to know each other before the big day?”

Pulling your phone down to your lap and Jungkook taking off his headphones, the two of you shrug at each other, “No, we’re good.” Jungkook says.

“We know enough,” you agree cooly, “Jungkook likes Valorant.”

“I do like Valorant.”

“He likes pork belly.”

“I do like pork belly.”

“He’s ripped as hell.”

“I am ripped as hell.”

“Okay but have you guys kissed yet?” Seokjin interjects, probably compensating for the nonchalance in the room with his own brand of freaking out. You two only see each other when you’re hanging out at Seokjin’s apartment, and while he’s happy that you two aren’t doing the whole 9-yards and creating an elaborate scheme, the both of you are almost too relaxed. His anxiety is spiking.

“Yes,” Jungkook answers, “at the barbeque place we went to.”

“It was nice," you tack on, "Jin, we got this. Don't worry."

"How can I not worry when you're trying to upset our cousin on her wedding day?" he's sweating in his fully air-conditioned apartment. “I get that she’s the devil’s spawn and everything, but she’s still a human being.”

“In second grade she pushed me on the treadmill because I was going too slow. I got caught on the roller and got a bald spot for two months.”

“Okay yes one bad example—”

“And in senior year she accused me of plagiarizing her essay just because we chose the same topic. I almost didn’t get into college!” Seokjin sighs, crossing his arms. All valid points, and arguing with you isn’t a route he wants to take. “Jin, the point is that she’s constantly pushing my buttons. I’ve always been the bigger person and now that I’m old and confident I just want one jab.”

“That’s valid,” Jungkook pipes up, pressing the spacebar a few times, “I want a jab too, she cheated on me.”

“See? It’s a mutual decision.”

Seokjin asks, “Why aren’t you more worried about this?”

"Because Doyeon isn't going to chew me out on her wedding day," you checked your aunt's seating chart last week and you are far, far away from the bridal table. "We're just going to show off a little bit. Get drunk, eat some bomb steak. Break up in three months or less.”

"You don't have to just convince Doyeon, it's your entire family! Not to mention you also have to go to the bachelor party!"

"Oh I almost forgot," you reach under the couch for your laptop, "Jungkook, in two weekends from now we're flying to Las Vegas for the bachelor party and wedding. I'll buy your ticket now."

"Thanks, babe!” Jungkook sends a cheeky grin to Seokjin, who is unimpressed. “See? I remember to call her babe.”

“Alright, get out of my house,” Seokjin tugs Jungkook away from his computer, causing the younger man to swivel around in his plush gaming chair.

Jungkook frowns at the monitor, “But I’m still bronze one. I’m aiming for silver one by this weekend.”

“Don’t care. As much as I don’t like this plan, I’m not letting you two slip-up.” Seokjin pulls out his phone, revealing Doyeon’s Instagram story, “Doyeon and Namjoon are at the mall buying swimsuits for Vegas. Go to the mall and ‘accidentally’ run into them.”

You sit up straight, tilting your head to the side. “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you bound over to grab your jacket, giving Seokjin a big fat kiss on his cheek, “Thanks Jinnie, do you know you’re—”

“I’m your favorite cousin. Yeah whatever, bye.” He waves you off, plopping in his own chair so he can enjoy his games in peace.

“I’m driving,” Jungkook declares, swiping your keys from Seokjin’s opal dish.

“Oh, hell no,” you jump on your tippy toes to reach Jungkook’s grasp on your keys, but he’s so freakishly tall there’s no way you can reach. “I drive my car!”

“I’ve always wanted to drive your car back then,” Jungkook cooes, leaning in so your noses touch. “C’mon, you can trust me.”

“You two are gross already,” Seokjin admonishes from the other side of the room, “see, it’s working!”

Poking his cheek so he gives you some space, you whip your head to hide the flush that burns on your cheeks. “Fine, but if you crash you’re buying me a new one.”

“They’re over there,” you hiss between the racks, shuffling between the plastic hangers to point to Doyeon and Namjoon at the women’s section of the store. They look disgustingly adorable together, with Doyeon pointedly telling Namjoon which swimsuit suits his stature better while Namjoon nods along and goes with whatever she says. You crouch down lower, fearing Namjoon’s tall frame would catch you. “Now we just gotta act all couple-y and they’ll notice us. Or maybe we can walk over to them? What do you wanna do?”

“Do you think we should get matching swimsuits?” Jungkook pays no mind to your sleuthing, holding up a red pair of swim trunks to his thighs, “we could pretend to be sexy lifeguards.”

You tilt your head away from the pair, only because Jungkook has been genuinely interested in this store since you’ve arrived. Putting a hand under your chin, you scrutinize the dark red cutoff shorts. “They’re cute,” you nod appreciatively, “It’ll make your thighs look thick.”

Jungkook’s grip on his hanger lowers, and he regards you with dark eyes. “You think my thighs look thick?” he asks, leaning in and putting one hand on the curve of your waist. His fingers dance on the surface of bare skin between your top and jeans, and while you’ve agreed beforehand that you two could touch each other wherever in public, it still surprises you when gooseflesh rises to the surface.

“Easy there, tiger,” you chuckle, putting a hand on his chest to stop his sudden bout of flirting. “I’m just stating the facts, we get it. You lift.”

“You’re so cute when you try to put your guard up,” he’s brushing noses with you now, and you feel the plastic of the hanger crumple pathetically between you two as the gap closes further. “But you can’t hide from me.”

And just as his lips move to press against yours, a shrill “Jungkook!” echoes throughout the large store.

You nearly flop over the boardshorts rack if not for Jungkook’s arms secured around your waist. Oh right, you think dumbly, this is all for show. Doyeon and Namjoon are right in front of you, purchases already made and looking at you two in curiosity. Well, Namjoon is definitely curious, because you know for a fact that Doyeon speaks very little of you to him and you’ve only conversed with him a handful of times. Doyeon on the other hand, looks a little stiff in the grin.

“Hello to you too,” you remark to Doyeon, who’s barely acknowledged you. You reach over to squeeze Namjoon’s arm, “Hi Joonie,” you crinkle your eyes, and you fight back a squeal when he smiles back with dimples. Doyeon has such a cute fiancé, and if you’re keeping score he’s way too good for her.

Doyeon’s eyes glaze over to where you’ve touched Namjoon, and she links her arms with his. “What a coincidence, you two are buying swimsuits where we’re buying swimsuits.”

“Well, there’s only one mall in this town and we’re going on the same trip in two weeks,” you reply blandly, and you feel Jungkook pinch your side. “Oh, Namjoon. Have you met my boyfriend Jungkook?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Namjoon reaches over to clasp Jungkook’s hand, “nice to meet you, man.”

While Namjoon and Jungkook exchange small talk, you pointedly ignore the waves of negativity Doyeon sends your way in favor of observing the two large men. Namjoon just said it was nice to meet him, therefore he has no clue who Jungkook is. Interesting, considering Doyeon two-timed in favor of Namjoon. It gets you a little antsy, and you wonder if Namjoon is faking this whole interaction or if Doyeon is hiding something.

“Baby,” Jungkook rests a hand on your shoulder, regarding you with concern, “you spaced out there, are you okay?”

“She’s like that, Jungkookie,” Jungkook gently presses your shoulders down, blocking your view of Doyeon as she regards your not-boyfriend as Jungkookie. “My cousin’s a bit of an airhead,” her tone is sweet and jesting, the backhanded jab going right above Namjoon’s head.

“I’m just hungry,” you say, forcing a tight-lipped smile.

“Well, that’s perfect,” Namjoon clasps his hands together, “Yeonie and I were just about to go grab some dinner. Why don’t you join us?”

Doyeon and you both reply immediately, “That really isn’t necessary—”

“Nonsense,” you don’t even have the heart to be upset at Namjoon because he looks so damn genuine, “It’s been two years and I haven’t even bought you a meal, y/n. After all, we’re going to be family at the end of the month.”

“Right,” you answer reluctantly.

“We’re gonna make reservations at the Cheesecake Factory,” he pulls out his phone, ready to make a call, “but you and Jungkook can finish shopping, okay? The wait will be a little long but by the time you’re done our table should be ready.”

You and Jungkook wave off Doyeon and Namjoon as they make their way to the restaurant. Your hand is caught in the air by Jungkook, who regards you with worry in his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked spaced out,” he says, “tell me what you were really thinking.”

Subconsciously, you squeeze his palm for comfort. “I don’t know, it just feels weird knowing Namjoon doesn’t seem to know you at all. Normally Doyeon loves to talk shit about her exes.”

Jungkook scoffs easily, “I mean, if she’s marrying the guy I’m sure she doesn’t want to let him know the details of how they ended up together.”

“True,” you decide to let it go, and follow Jungkook to the register to pay for his swim trunks.

“So,” the little ‘ding’ of the register opens up the money box, and Jungkook quickly hands the clerk his cash, “we’re having dinner with them after this?”

“Only if you want to.”

“We need to, right?” Jungkook thanks the clerk, holding the bag in one hand and threading his fingers through yours as you head out the store.

“Well, do you want to?” you ask again. Jungkook stops the two of you on the sidewalk. It isn’t a fast stop, but a slow down that makes his walk a little more thicker, more deliberate as he trudges you down the lane. You move in front of him, clutching your hands between his. “Are you okay? You barely even acknowledged Doyeon.”

“I’m fine,” you flinch at his harsh tone, and he immediately moves to remedy it by squeezing your hand back. “I’m sorry. It’s just been awhile and I’m definitely over her but,” he bows his head, feeling embarrassed, “she hurt me, you know?”

Going into this is definitely one of the more selfish plans you’ve put your mind to. Your heart pangs thinking about what must be going through everytime he sees her. If he’s reminded about all the good times they shared, or how much he’s over thought every single conversation he’s had with her up until this point.

“Of course,” you completely understand, knowing from the beginning that this whole mess would end up with some dicey feelings someway or another. “I’m just thankful you chose to stick by me. And we can talk about it if you’re comfortable,” both of you being victims of Doyeon’s brand of torture, you hope the two of you can at least be friends after all of this is over, “we don’t have to go have dinner with them.”

“But, Namjoon got us a table—”

“Namjoon will be fine. We can always have dinner with him another time,” you smile softly, “what matters is that you’re okay.”

His gaze melts, and you feel his grip loosen in your hold. He regards you with weak eyes, betraying the confidence he held himself to moments before. “Thanks, y/n,” he says, “I really appreciate that.”

“Anytime,” you reply honestly. “We can go to Cheesecake and order to-go. I can make some excuse about how my stomach hurts and that we should do a raincheck.”

“Sounds good.”

“Do you wanna eat at one of our places or eat at the park or something?” you’re already pulling up your phone, checking out the menu. “We could invite Jin too.”

“The park sounds nice,” neither of you acknowledge the fact that you’re not inviting Seokjin, and for some reason that’s okay.

“Yeah,” you agree simply, “the weather’s beautiful.”

Under any normal circumstances, you would’ve been friends with someone like Jeon Jungkook, easily. A little part of you wishes that you could’ve met Jungkook first, but Doyeon has better connections than you and always had a good crowd around despite her inner motivations. No awkward exchange happens when you suggest to Jungkook to eat together. Even though you’re not technically dating, the two of you know that eating together is better than eating alone.

And you have to admit Jungkook’s great company. The two of you drive to a reserve nearby, overlooking a tiny lake. Instead of a fancy Italian tablecloth the two of you move your car seats down and set a spare picnic blanket in the trunk. Instead of a candlelit dinner the two of you find some emergency electric tealights in the glove compartment, lighting it up between you two as you dig into your to-go boxes.

You’re a little envious that so much time has passed by. You could’ve been a little sneakier and made a better effort to communicate with Jungkook when you saw him regularly at family parties, and maybe you two would have a better friendship today. Nevertheless, the two of you mesh like peanut butter and jelly, exchanging conversation that has your cheeks sore from smiling too hard.

By the time you get to dessert, the moon is out and the stars are floating above your heads. The two of you are at war, fighting with your forks over the last strawberry in your cheesecake slice. After some careful stabbing Jungkook manages to nab it with his fork.

He almost puts it in his mouth, but instead swipes up some whipped cream to press the last strawberry to your lips.

“I think it’s working,” Jungkook says randomly as you chew the sweet fruit, “you could see it on Doyeon’s face today. She’s unsettled.”

“Yeah,” you agree, lying down on the lavender gingham picnic blanket.

“Do you know why she fights with you all the time?”

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself since the dawn of time.”

“I think I know why.” Jungkook looks down at you with his large doe eyes, licking innocently on a spoon of whipped cream.

“Pray tell.”

“She’s jealous of you.”

“No,” you disagree easily, “she’s jealous that I have you.”

“Bzzt! Wrong,” Jungkook puts his empty container in your makeshift trash can, falling beside you and knitting his hands under his head. You have a little window on the roof of your car, so both of you are able to stare at the navy sky, “she’s always been jealous of you. Think about it. The two of you have similar lifestyles: same career path, confidence, taste, education. But even after all of that? People still like you more.”

You scoff, hands immediately reaching to fiddle with the frayed corner of fabric next to your fingers. “I don’t think so.”

“I’ve met all of Doyeon’s friends,” he informs you, “they’re weird. Like yeah, they care about each other on the surface level. But they’re nothing of substance. They’re not like your friends.”

“Please, Doyeon has everything she could ever want,” you don’t know what kind of complex you have supporting Doyeon’s life, but something deep and insecure wants to separate you two as far away from each other as possible. “Like… she’s Malibu Barbie and I’m Polly Pocket.”

Jungkook turns to face you, resting his head between his palm and leaning on his elbow. “Do you not think you’re beautiful?”

“Yeah, but compared to Doyeon—”

“You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?”

You choke on your saliva, feeling small and skittish at the implication behind his words. It’s been two years. You’ve only been friends for two weeks. How can he possibly say that?

“I uh, saw you once,” Jungkook coughs, and you watch the way his pale cheeks unmatch the moon and instead flit to a crimson hue, “we were at some party and you were wearing this really cute black dress with a white bow in the middle. Doesn’t even matter what party because it was random, y’know? I was gonna go talk to you but Doyeon got to me first and well, the rest is history.” He breaks eye contact with you, unable to handle it.

You remember that party, vaguely. It was random, some sort of poetry slam in a shady part of town. Doyeon and you didn’t even go with each other, you were with Taehyung and she just happened to stumble in there from another nearby party. You didn’t even know Jungkook was there that night, or how you were a hair's breadth away from meeting him before Doyeon.

“Don’t ever think you’re lesser than her just because out of all the people she chose to pick on, she chose you. It’s why she never lets you get to know her boyfriends. She’s threatened by you because you’re just as special,” something low sparks in your chest at his words, “and now that you’ve finally decided to stoop to her level and fight back with a taste of her own medicine, she doesn’t know what to do.”

Feeling like your body is on a beach and you’re sinking in sand, you soften over your picnic blanket, mulling it over. “Did I make the right choice? Stooping down to her level.” Your voice is quiet, comparable to the chirping birds and buzzing gnats outside.

“We won’t know until after the wedding,” Jungkook answers honestly, “but I do know I’m sticking with you until the end. We’re friends now, got that? You have no excuse to ignore me anymore.”

You don’t want to ignore Jungkook, never in a million years. Now you know that you are envious of Doyeon, for having an opportunity to love and care for an amazing person like him. So in a sudden bout of emotion, you roll over to straddle Jungkook’s waist.

He’s shocked, hands flying to your waist to make sure you don’t wobble off. But you’re determined, and lean down to press your lips against his. He tastes like cheesecake and strawberries, the taste melding with your own as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You melt a little when he squeaks, breaking into a soft moan as he reciprocates the gesture. He’s warm and large and he makes you feel safe. Once your brain returns to your body, you break for air. You only pull back a few centimeters, and there’s no way for you to get off because Jungkook has locked you in place.

“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly.

“Don’t know,” you’re whispering against his lips, unable to pull away, “just felt like we needed a little more practice.”

He blinks, before relaxing in a silly smile. “I agree,” he says simply, dipping you on your back so he can be on top the second time around.

“We’re in Vegas, baby!”

Every single terrible comedy movie set in Las Vegas has brought you to this very moment. You’ve always wanted to say that line. Dumping your luggage next to Jungkook’s, you flop on the nearest mattress. Thank goodness you only wore leggings and a t-shirt on the flight, it’s the optimal sleeping outfit after a long day. Feeling something hard and plastic dig into your brain, you hold up the culprit and squeal excitedly. “Look, Kook!” you wave the crinkly confection in your hands, “they put mints on the pillows!”

Despite your room being a square with two queen beds, the hotel does not skimp on quality. The decor is ornate, the white and gold trim on the doorknobs and metal appliances shimmering beautifully. The beds feel like clouds, as you try to imagine what a cloud could possibly feel like, this is it.

Jungkook immediately follows suit, ripping off his outer clothes until he’s left in his undershirt and boxers, flopping next to you on the mattress. He immediately opens his mouth when you shoot a mint, catching it easily. “I feel like we’re in a deleted scene of Crazy Rich Asians,” he says, letting the hard mint clink around his teeth, “is this the part where you tell me your family comes from old money and I’m gonna be your sugar baby?”

“Don’t be so hopeful,” you narrow your eyes, booping his button nose with your finger.

“I’m just saying, the first class flight threw me off.”

You giggle, slapping his chest, “No. If that was true, we wouldn’t be sharing a room with my cousin. Sorry you have to share the bed with me, I got the hotel with Jin and he doesn’t want to sleep with you.”

“S’okay,” Jungkook replies softly, leaning closer to make grabby hands at you, “you’re softer.”

Tentatively, you scooch over so you can lean on Jungkook’s chest. You two have a little time before Doyeon and Namjoon’s combined bachelor and bachelorette party. The past two weeks have been nice—scratch that, the past two weeks with Jungkook have been wonderful. You never cared to measure how much time passed before meeting him, but now that you’ve begun fake-dating, time is the only thing you regard. You’re already beginning to miss him, knowing that in a week, this whole arrangement will be over.

Well, not exactly over. Jungkook says you’ll remain friends after this, but you don’t really want that. You want more, and it scares you to think he may not feel the same.

But right now you’re snuggling like an old couple, sleeping comfortably between pillow-like sheets and minty breath. Your pretend boyfriend, now your pretend boyfriend with benefits, looks soft and huggable and you want to bottle up this moment forever. You say benefits because, well, the cuddling is an added bonus. Practice practice practice, Jungkook sing songs the words you used that one night under the stars, excuses to seal his lips to your lips. You’ll never argue with that. So when Jungkook’s hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer, you relent.

One second, you’re closing your eyes and the next, you’re waking up to Seokin’s wide eyes staring back at you.

“Eep, you creepo!” you shriek, scrambling away from him. That’s when you realize Jungkook’s missing from bed, the scent of his laundry detergent lingering between the eggshell Egyptian cotton.

“Jungkook’s in the shower,” Seokjin immediately reads your mind, pulling away so he can unpack his luggage. “My flight just got in two hours ago, you both were out like a light when I arrived.”

“Ugh, I’m really not ready to party.”

“Doyeon just texted the family group chat. She reserved the rooftop, the party starts in an hour,” he talks mindlessly, rifling through his stuff. Seokjin is fiddling with his clothes, despite the fact that you know Seokjin prepares his outfits days in advance so he doesn’t have to choose. He looks concerned, pulling out a flamingo pink boardshort and setting it down on his mattress. Finally he says, “I’m worried about you.”

“Why?”

“Because. It’s clear that you’re starting to fall for Jungkook.”

The words strike you straight in the place you’re trying to avoid. You’ve been living in a fantasy these past two weeks, thinly veiled by the whole reason you two are together in the first place. Doyeon’s wedding is just around the corner, and what then?

“I’m not saying that he doesn’t feel anything for you either,” that gets your heart skipping a beat, and you secretly hold a hand to your chest under the blankets, “but do you really want to start off a relationship like this? A relationship all messy and morally objective because it’s built on revenge?”

“Don’t worry about me,” the words easily fall from your lips, “I can take care of this.”

“I hate it when you say that,” the words are curt and harsh against Seokjin’s plush lips, “I’m allowed to worry about you, y/n. You know why? Because, because you’re my favorite cousin too,” he bites his lip, walking over so he sits on your side of the bed. “So don’t tell me what I can and can’t worry about. I want you to be happy, I want you to stop holding in this anger you have for Doyeon and move on.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, leaning over to press your cheek against Seokjin’s shoulder. “You’re right.”

“For the first time in a long time, you’ve finally decided to lean on someone,” and both of you know who that someone is. “I don’t want you to lose him over some petty family issue. You should tell him how you feel.”

“I will,” you wrap your arms around your cousin’s slim waist in a silent thanks.

“Am I interrupting a tender family moment?”

The two of you pull away to stare at Jungkook, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the bathroom. He’s in a plain white t-shirt and the red board shorts that you bought at the mall, cutting off mid-thigh and revealing the bulky muscle underneath. You were right, the shorts do make his thighs look thick.

Seokjin groans exaggeratedly. “Yes, yes you did.”

Jungkook immediately goes to replace Seokjin’s spot, and some stray droplets fall fresh from the shower due to his slicked-back hair. “Do you wanna get ready? First party’s soon.”

“Not really,” you admit, “you’re gonna meet the family all over again.”

“Second time’s the charm,” he winked, “I’ve already met your parents and everything. Not feeling nervous at all.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really,” and the facade cools down a little, “well, maybe a little nervous for your Aunt Lillian. Her stares give me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Aunt Lillian.”

“God the two of you get worse every day,” Seokjin has magically changed into his shorts, tucking himself into the bed, “don’t wake me up until we pre-game.”

Doyeon and Namjoon don’t skimp on the festivities, although in taste the ideas are Doyeon’s in its entirety. It’s lavish and colorful, with a beautiful infinity pool in the middle decorated with lavender and pink headlights. There’s a buffet table overflowing with tasty food. There’s petal pink champagne overflowing from fountains, decorated with fresh strawberries bobbing around the fizzy drink.

“I don’t know,” Namjoon and Jungkook have been talking for well over an hour, and it’s clear how well they mesh together. Heck, you’ve accepted that Jungkook may like Namjoon more than he likes you. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle as Namjoon discusses the various genres of rap and hip-hop music, explaining the potency of mature themes in a young community, “but I will say music is like another language, knows no boundaries when it comes to sending their messages to others.”

You fight the urge to chuckle when Jungkook sighs dreamily at the music theory professor. “Wow, that’s so deep.”

Getting up from your cabana, you nudge Seokjin, who’s currently flirting it up with one of Doyeon’s bridesmaids. “Hey, wanna get a drink?” you ask, throwing your wrap on the cushions to reveal your strappy red bikini.

“And chicken tenders,” Seokjin presses a kiss to the bridesmaid’s cheek, bidding her goodbye as he follows you out of the shaded area.

“Do you two lovebirds want anything?” you stare pointedly at Namjoon and Jungkook. While Namjoon’s eyes stay in contact with you, you can’t help but smile a little more when Jungkook has a hard time keeping his gaze in one place.

“I think we’re fine,” Namjoon answers for both of them, swirling his beer bottle. “I’ll meet you two at the bar once I’m done.”

“Sure thing,” Seokjin puts a hand on your back to lead you to one of the open bars. As much as you like being in a handsome hotel with money to burn, nothing beats the fact that your entire family is here to celebrate. The elders have corroborated two cabanas for poker and other games, while your younger cousins are playing ping pong and air hockey on the other side.

“Namjoon sure is a dreamboat,” Seokjin bemoans, handing you an electric orange drink. You take a sip of it, and bug out when you realize it tastes nothing like alcohol. You’re definitely in for a night. “Like I can hear him wax music thingamajib any day.”

“I thought you were into that bridesmaid.”

“A mere diversion,” he sighs, leaning his tanned arms against the bar, “can’t ignore the deep voice Namjoon has, it’s intoxicating.”

“I’m sure Jungkook would agree,” you egg on.

“What are you two talking about?” you straighten up when the man of the hour shows up at the bar, absolutely glowing under the sunset. He orders a round for the three of you, and you immediately chug your own drink to get to the next one.

“Talking about how you’re stealing Jungkook away from me,” you joke, accepting another fruity drink from Namjoon. Damn, this stuff tastes like candy.

“Oh, never,” Namjoon replies brightly, waving the thought away, “do you see the way he looks at you? Hopelessly in love.”

Maybe it’s the copious amounts of alcohol, but you feel your stomach flip-flop at the thought of love. You’ve always known what love felt like, the warmth of Namjoon’s cheeks whenever he sees Doyeon, when your mom takes care of you when you’re sick, when Seokjin makes sure you’re not emotionally constipated 24/7. But the thought of Jungkook and you in love? It’s a feeling you secretly yearn for.

“Right? It’s disgusting,” Seokjin groans with an eye roll, “like, Jungkook wasn’t like that with Doyeon at all when they were together.”

The slip up has the three of you choking on your own thoughts, staring at each other like the three have just been told you’re on a prank show. But it is no prank, and you look at Seokjin who’s absolutely horrified.

“Oh shit,” he squeaks, looking at Namjoon guiltily, “did I say something I shouldn’t have said?”

“I don’t know,” Namjoon replies coolly, “did you?”

The ominous response gets you going, and you quickly place a hand on Namjoon’s arm, placating him. “They dated, yes. But it was only for a short time and we’ve sorted everything out. Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Oh,” Namjoon quirks his head, and regards you two with pursed lips. “I’m not one of those guys who freak out over other people’s exes. I’m just surprised that I’ve only heard this now,” Namjoon takes a slow sip of his drink, and despite your drink also being cold and refreshing, you’re absolutely sweating.

“Well, I’m sure Doyeon didn’t want to worry you.”

At the mention of his future wife, he beams. “You’re right, she’s considerate like that,” and the conversation ends just like that. He holds up his drink to the two of you, and you and Seokjin do the same. With a sharp clink he leaves you two to mull, happily conversing with the next round of guests he needs to entertain for the week.

“That guy is too nice for his own good,” you shake your head, asking the bartender for your third drink within ten minutes.

Seokjin leans over you and warbles, “So you’re telling me that Namjoon has no idea that Doyeon cheated on Jungkook in order to date him?” he’s sweating just like you are, following suit to your actions and asking to make his drink a double.

“I don’t know,” you bite your lip, your teeth worrying the dark skin, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while though. I just don’t want to get involved, you know?”

“But this is different!”

“But Doyeon’s family!”

“And all of a sudden you care about Doyeon’s feelings?” Seokjin gripes back, “it’s not about Doyeon, it’s about the both of them. And if we know something that Namjoon doesn’t, wouldn’t it be in our best interests to warn him before he seals a marriage deal that costs him over a zillion dollars?” he gestures to the extravagant wedding party.

“But we don’t even have any proof that’s the case,” you frown, “Doyeon could have changed—a little, not a lot—since meeting Namjoon, maybe she thinks it’s best to reveal as little as possible.”

Seokjin wonders what kind of family he has. One as chaotic as his takes a lot to stomach, and Seokjin likes to pride himself in his strong appetite. “Fine, let’s just keep a close eye on both of them this week. And if anything remotely fishy happens, we strike.”

“Deal.”

You return to the cabana alone, with a plate of fries for both you and Jungkook. Jungkook is also alone, laying on the lounge chair with his eyes closed. It gives you a chance to ogle your fake-boyfriend a little bit, reveling in the sight of his toned body.

Setting down your plate with a sharp rap of the glass, Jungkook opens one eye. “Hey,” he smiles, drinking in your muted expression, “you okay?”

Damn Jungkook for being able to read you so well. “I think so. It’s nothing, really.”

“Well, will you tell me if it’s something?”

“Yeah, I will.”

“So, I do have something to tell you though.” Jungkook sits up, regarding you wearily. “Can you… stand in front of me?” Confused, you shove a fry in your mouth and walk up to him as directed, your back blocking the entrance as you stand in front of him. “Okay, come closer. Now bend down,” you bend your back 90 degrees, and he presses a hand to your shoulder to stop you, “no, no. With your breasts out, just a little—there! Arch your back. Like you’re doing the Sorority Squat.”

“Excuse me—”

“The music isn’t even that loud,” he mutters to himself, “no one would need to push their boobs in my face to hear me.”

“Jungkook, is someone pressing boobs to your face?”

“Why,” he breaks into a playful grin, “jealous?”

“Not if it’s Aunt Lillian.”

“Unfortunately it wasn’t,” he twiddles with the drawstrings of his shorts. “It was Doyeon.”

Doyeon? She didn’t walk by your cabana all day. Heck, she barely greeted you when you arrived with Jungkook. But when Jungkook’s alone is when she decides to pounce? And with what motive?

“I don’t know,” he’s rambling to himself, “maybe I’m overthinking it. It was only half a second.”

“Jungkook, I have something to tell you,” you say instead, panic in your features.

“Is it something urgent?”

“Well, no but—”

“Then tell me when we get back to the room,” Jungkook easily pulls you onto his lap, and you instantly heat up when you feel your bare butt press against Jungkook’s golden thighs. “Like you said, we’re in Vegas. Let’s have fun while we can.”

“Okay,” you tuck your head between his neck and collarbone, reaching to press a kiss to his smooth jawline.

Relaxing against the plush lounge chair Jungkook feeds you fries while talking about the things he wants to do this week. It’s his first time in Vegas and he wants to make the most of it. He wants to visit all the buffets he sees on Buzzfeed compilations, relax at the pool, maybe catch a show. The thought of spending all week with him and your family is nice, and suddenly you don’t feel so awkward sitting on his lap, and eventually he pulls you between his thighs so you can lay on his chest.

“And between you and me,” he fake whispers against the shell of your ear, as if he’s telling you the biggest secret, “we’re the hottest couple here.”

The next three days leading up to the wedding are relatively uninteresting.

Uninteresting in the best way possible. On Monday you and Jungkook spend time with your little cousins, taking them to The Adventuredome, one of the resort's indoor theme parks. On Tuesday you and Jungkook go shopping at the outlet malls with your parents, blowing hundreds of dollars on cheap Levis that have your luggage bursting with a new wardrobe. In between all of that Seokjin and occasionally Namjoon joins you two in your buffet journey, hitting up the top spots and filling your tummies to the brim with delicious food.

On Wednesday, Jungkook brandishes two gold-foiled tickets in front of you, waving them around like a fan. With one finger, he pushes away your Pokémon battle, “I got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” he announces proudly, “waited in line for an hour.”

You gape, scrambling off of your bed and throwing your Nintendo Switch to the side. “Jungkook,” you marvel, “these are so expensive. How’d you manage to get a show for tonight?”

He shrugs, “Looked around.”

“You’ve been impulse buying a lot this week,” you tease, “like really, you don’t need three pairs of the same ripped jeans.”

“This wasn’t an impulse buy,” he says, “I’ve been looking around for shows. Just managed to pick them up today, so go get dressed for our date.”

Did Jungkook just call it a date? Giddy with excitement you throw the covers off, running into the bathroom to get ready. What a surprise, you didn’t think Jungkook would be into spontaneous things like this.

Seokjin left the bathroom open, so when you walk in the room it is steamy and warm. Your dear cousin is still in the shower, probably waiting for his conditioner to pass three minutes of set-in time.

“What are you getting ready for?” Seokjin asks over the rain shower.

“Kook got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” you chirp happily, looking through your skin care products.

“I wanna come!”

“Nope! Jungkook called it a date.”

“Oh, a date,” Seokjin drawls, putting his head under the water to rinse his hair clean. “Well then, should I vacate the room for tonight?”

“What, no!” you’ve closed the door, so thankfully Jungkook can’t hear you talking about him. “We’re not doing anything. We’re just two friends who are fake-dating going on a date.”

“Sounds like a real date, though,” Seokjin wraps a towel around himself to cover all his important bits before getting out of the shower, bumping elbows with you so he can brush his teeth. “Either way, I’ll be gone tonight. It’s my turn to watch the baby cousins. Don’t have too much fun while I'm in their room watching Despicable Me for the millionth time.”

“We’ll be sure to stop by with some pizza or something,” you tease, a little wiggle in your hips when you vacate the bathroom.

By the time you and Jungkook are ready, you two are dressed impeccably. Jungkook is wearing one of the ripped black jeans he bought on Tuesday, combined with a white button up and black blazer. A classic outfit with a little bit of Jungkook-themed flair. And to Jungkook’s surprise, you’re wearing the dress that he first saw you in, all those years ago. You’ve gained a little weight since college, but you still fill out the little black dress beautifully, the little white bow in the middle adding a simple yet adorable touch. It took a little sleuthing and searching through your old college clothes, but you were determined to find it when Jungkook reminded you how much you love the design.

Clearly from the way Jungkook is currently gaping at you like a bloated fish, he loves it too.

The show is beautiful and colorful, leaving you speechless and in tears by the end of it. Jungkook lets you hold his hand the entire time, feeling a bout of anxiety anytime the acrobats fall gracefully despite the large height.

Overall, it was a wonderful show, paired with your equally enamouring date. It’s getting harder and harder to distinguish what’s fake and what’s real in your heart, and throughout the night you’re sorely reminded that you should tell Jungkook how you feel.

But by the time you get to the room your parents are calling you, asking to get their suit and dresses out of the car so hotel service can do a last minute press and dry clean.

“I’ll be back,” you say to Jungkook, “I need to go get their clothes out of the car. They’re always so forgetful.”

“Want me to come?” he offers, hand shying away from inserting the keycard in.

“No, I’ll only be fifteen minutes, tops.”

“So I guess this is this the part where I get a goodnight kiss?” he asks cheekily, leaning on his heels so his tall frame reaches yours. You don’t hesitate to give a short peck to his pretty pink lips. He pouts at the brevity, “that was too quick.”

“Go inside,” you insist, “the sooner you get ready for bed the sooner I can get ready for bed.”

“Then more kisses?”

“Then more kisses.”

Jungkook breaks into an all-teeth smile, unable to control himself when he dips down and steals a longer, more lingering kiss to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says, mimicking every single teenage rom-com protagonist who’s deeply in love with the popular jock. “Don’t take too long, okay?”

You nod, pushing him inside, “C’mon, if you stopped talking I’d be back by now!”

Once the door closes shut, you let yourself do a little dance in the hallway, wiggling your butt and giving yourself a mini-celebration. You quickly text your group chat that you just came back from the Cirque show.

Jimin: what, a date with your fake date?

Hobi: jeon jungcock? 👀👀

Jimin: whaaaaaattttt. U’ve gotta have sat in his lap at least. 3 times since you’ve started this ting

Hobi: i’ve heard things in college…

Taehyung: u are all gross and i hate u

Taehyung: but so am i bc im very curious

Just as you’re about to send a heated reply, the elevator dings, revealing a pissed off Doyeon. She’s bare-faced, in a fluffy lilac bath robe and matching puff ball slippers. You slip in right beside her, making sure there’s a comfortable amount of space between you two.

“You’re going to the parking garage too?” you ask, eyes lingering on the lit button.

“Yeah,” she’s looking at her phone, a few stray hairs from her mahogany bun falling onto her forehead, “Aunt Lillian left her medication in the car. I don’t know why she has to send me, I’m busy getting married.”

“My parents left their formal clothes in the car,” you shrug, “you know, my parents and Aunt Lillian share the same brain cell. Gotta help them out once in a while.”

The icy silence in the elevator is probably the calmest you and Doyeon have been since you’ve announced your relationship status with Jungkook. You fight the sigh, opting to take out your phone and open some unread messages.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: hurry up, the bed’s cold without u

You: lool, why do u look constipated

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: because i am, hurry up. Im bringing ur switch to the toilet and playing on your profile

You: JEON WAIT YAMPERS AT 5HP GO TO THE POKEMON CENTER U HEATHEN

You tilt your head a centimeter, feeling Doyeon breathing down your neck like Puff the Magic Dragon. You look at her with wide eyes. Her long, slender neck manages to snake its way next to your head, “Can I help you?” you ask amusedly, clutching your phone to your chest.

“Are you two really together?” she asks, batting her lashes. All this week she’s left you alone, and you’ve been wondering when she’s going to make herself known. It’s a little self-absorbed you have to admit, but ever since Namjoon’s ignorance to Doyeon’s previous relationship, you’ve been on edge.

“Of course we are,” you spit back, “I love him.”

And you must be very convincing, because Doyeon’s gaze falters just a fraction. You glare at her, staking your claim. Ever since Jungkook told you the reason Doyeon hates you is because she’s jealous, you’ve started to feel a bit of sympathy for her. Doyeon is beautiful and smart, she has no reason to feel this way. But the brain holds fickle thoughts sometimes, bringing darkness to the mind.

“He loved me first,” she bites back, lifting her chin.

“And why do you care?” you laugh tonelessly. The elevator dings open, and you’re met with the open air and concrete of the parking garage. “He may have loved you first, but he’ll love me last.”

You leave the elevator first, a little pep in your step as you make your way to the rental car to gather your parent’s things. While the words you uttered are white in nature and may not hold any sort of weight to them, it manages to bring Doyeon to her knees, absolutely quaking in the elevator.

You’re tasting revenge, and it’s sweet.

“Okay, you need to leave,” Seokjin pulls away the shot glass from your lips, “I didn’t spend days planning the itinerary for you to mess it up. Bridal party in Doyeon’s suite and the groom’s party in Namjoon’s parents suite.”

“That’s dumb,” you chastise, crossing your arms, “we’re all meeting at the same club at 10. Why can’t we pre-party together?”

“Because it’s tradition!”

“Screw tradition,” you stumble on your heels as you purse your lips at Jungkook, “Kook, when we get married I don’t wanna do a whole boy-and-girl party. We’re equals, right?”

“Of course, baby,” he cooes, being careful not to smudge your makeup when he presses his lips to the crown of your head. “But for the sake of Seokjin’s sanity, you should probably go to Doyeon’s. It’ll only be an hour or two.”

You gasp exaggeratedly at the blatant betrayal. He only grins cheekily in response, dipping down to press a wet kiss to your cheek. “Fine,” you cross your arms, snatching back your drink from Seokjin’s grasp to knock it down.

Leaving the bachelor pre-party pains you considerably. They’re having such a good time joking around the suite, telling each other fun stories and relaxing in chairs as they watch TV. This is your kind of crowd, not to mention that you can peacefully check out Jungkook’s ass in those tight dress pants without any crazy club lights distorting your vision.

From past family party experience you already have a feeling what’s coming for you in the ladies’ suite.

Loud music pours from Doyeon’s suite, and it’s completely unlocked. The bridal party is raving, ten seconds away from being completely drunk and immobile. The lights are being manually shut on and off like some sort of cheap rager, and you have to tell Yoojung to tone it down before you get a seizure.

The stench of acidic drinks and the tang of alcoholic air is palpable, and instead of a shot you opt for a glass of peach champagne to slow you down.

As you walk deeper into the suite, you notice a crowd forming by the balcony. Tapping your cousin Nari on the shoulder, you regard her with a hug and kiss. “What’s going on over there?” you ask, heels not helping you see any better.

Nari’s all blushy and pink, hiccuping as she gestures to the balcony. “Her maid of honor got Doyeon a very special gift!”

Managing to weave through the women blocking your view, you fight the urge to gag when you have a clear view of the scene in front of you.

You really don’t understand the purpose of bachelor and bachelorette parties. “One night to be single all over again!” they all say, even though they’re not actually single? Like why does the couple suddenly get one night of forgiveness when you’ve already spent years being in a committed relationship?

Why is it okay that Doyeon’s dry humping a stripper on the balcony? Her white silk dress is ruched dangerously high, soon close to flashing her family. Aunties and friends and the like are cheering her on, and she flips her head perfectly to all the phones shoved in their faces, making sure to get the perfect angle.

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back in the hopes that your other family members would be willing to have a good old-fashioned tip back with you.

You squeal when your hands accidentally land on a bare, oiled chest. You look up, mortified at the large man covered in black harnesses. “Hey babe, I’m Wonho,” he says, faking a sultry gaze as he looks at you up and down, “you’re part of the bridal party too? Wanna dance?”

Feeling naked, you push past him, careful not to get anything on your dress. Wonho? Wonno.

Jungkook loves your family.

(Except Doyeon.)

As much as he told you not to worry about him, and he’ll be completely fine when he meets your family, he couldn’t help be a little wary on the flight over. After all, it’s been two years and he didn’t know how things would be different.

Chaoticism and all, your family is a thing to be cherished. Even though Yoongi has been on mood swings that make Jungkook question his sanity from time to time, and Seokjin is secretly breathing down Jungkook’s back every time he so glances at you, he thinks things are right where they should be.

But despite all that they regarded him with familiarity, hugged and kissed him like old friends, something is different. They’ve turned over a new page for him. They don’t bring up Doyeon. They ask about his family, his job, his life in the city. They ask about how you and Jungkook met, and how happy they are for you. How happy they are for him.

Oh, how he wishes everything could be different. In another world, you two would already be together.

He wasn’t lying back at the cabana when he said you two are the hottest couple at the resort, including the bridal party (but don’t tell Namjoon). You look absolutely stunning in your sparkly red dress, accentuating all the right parts and lighting up the whole room.

When he finds you in the club you’re sitting down with your Aunties, keeping the elders company while the younger ones are flagging down the bartenders. He thinks it’s cute, how well you fit in between them, coddling you like you’re still a child in their eyes.

“Dear, your boyfriend is here!” your one Aunt yells over the loud EDM.

You lift your head up quickly, giving him the prettiest smile. Your teeth glow purple under the neon lights, and he fights the urge to laugh when he holds out a hand. “Mind if I steal her from you?”

“Of course, she’s gotta live a little!”

You pout, a little wobbly but nevertheless still in the right mind as you shuffle out of the booth to meet his awaiting arms. “Hey handsome,” your voice is thick and sweet-smelling, “come here often?”

“Only when my girlfriend does,” he replies cheekily, hands immediately coming to your butt to smooth out your dress. He shys a bit when your Aunties hoot and holler at his public display of affection, but all he wants to do was pull the hem down a little bit. No way is he going to let anyone get a flash of your goods.

“Let’s dance!” you take your hand in his, leading him to a comfortable corner of the dance floor.

Clubs aren’t really your scene, aligning with Jungkook’s sentiments towards the loud generic music and terrible smell. But you’re in Vegas, and he feels that it’s all part of the package to experience the nightlife at least once. He puts his hands on your waist and you giggle like you’re in prom, hands coming to rest on the collar of his button down.

“Hey,” he says with a lopsided smirk, “wanna make out?”

“Sure,” he notices that you don’t even check if anyone’s seeing, and it makes his heart flutter when you don’t hesitate to get on your tiptoes to meet him halfway.

He’s always hoped for a moment like this, a moment where the room stops spinning and both your minds click into place. It’s almost comical, how he distinctly notes that the music fades once his lips touch yours. The kiss is hot, yet intimate. Even though he makes excuses to kiss you all the time because of practice, it goes to show that you two definitely never needed it. Your tiny hands grip the collar of his button down, bringing you two impossibly close despite the hot air. His larger hands grip at the strings that hold your measly dress together, grappling at any excuse to get to your soft skin. The two of you are a natural when it comes to each other’s intimacy.

The two of you pull away, mesmerized. You haven’t kissed like that before. He melts under your stare, his thumb reaching to nick off any lip gloss that’s moved in the process.

Seokjin comes down the floor to haul you both by the shoulders, “C’mon lovebirds, they’re taking wedding shots!”

The two of you follow your cousin to the crowd of people that is your family, already with their own drinks in hand. Doyeon and Namjoon are sitting atop the bar, making a very loud toast that consisted of a quick “thank you!” and “we love you!” before downing their drinks with their arms linked together. The room is thrumming with excitement for tomorrow’s festivities, and surprisingly, you and Jungkook included. He tucks himself in your body like a puzzle piece, hugging you from behind while he watches Namjoon’s eyes sparkle with love under the neons.

The nightclub gets a little blurry after that, with the copious amounts of alcohol and shameless actions from your family and friends. By the time it’s twelve Jungkook notices you swaying at a rate that you can’t handle. He knows your limits and knows when you have to urge to pee every five minutes, it’s time to go. With a chaste kiss you leave him at the bar, deciding to make a pitstop to the bathroom before telling Jungkook you want to head up.

You’re locked in a stall when you hear Yoojung’s voice.

“Ugh,” she groans, voice echoing through the tiny room. “Jungkook is so sexy. Do you see the way he’s dancing out there? He’s a literal babe magnet, I can’t believe he ended up with someone like y/n.”

You don’t move a muscle, pressing your ear against the door that hides you. The silly slander isn’t news to you, Doyeon has been feeding her friends all sorts of bullcrap so they wouldn’t bother talking to you.

“Yeah, Jungkook’s a real treat but he dated Doyeon first. Sounds like she’s into sloppy seconds,” Elly replies, another bridesmaid you’ve met in passing. “But I don’t know, they do look happy together.”

“Please, I’m sure Jungkook’s just using her so he can get one more chance at Doyeon before she ties the knot,” you bristle, the thought of Jungkook still having feelings for Doyeon makes your heart thud painfully against your chest, “like, what a downgrade. Namjoon and Doyeon do not deserve this drama. If Jungkook ever liked Doyeon at all, he wouldn’t have come. Period.”

You slam the door open, causing Elly to squeal and Yoojung’s YSL lipstick to fall onto the sink. You’re the epitome of relaxation, walking towards the sink to wash your hands. The bridesmaids simply stare at you, unable to formulate a comeback. When you finally dry your hands, you say your next words.

“Jungkook is here because he loves me,” an act act act. This is all an act. You shouldn’t be this offended because you know it’s all false. “And you’re wrong. It’s not Jungkook that doesn’t deserve Doyeon. Jungkook was too good for Doyeon.”

And you slam your heels against the tile, stilettos pounding to the beat of the music. Your exit is full of anger and frustration as you ignore the burn in your step and the ache in your heart, flagging the first bartender you see to get you a double.

Shot for shot, that anger soon melts into guilt as Yoojung’s words sink in. The thought of Jungkook using you to get to Doyeon is terrible, you can barely stomach the thought. But that’s exactly what you’re doing, right? You’re using Jungkook to get back at Doyeon.

Why did you even want to get back at Doyeon anymore? Why do you have to prove anything to her? If she just continues to push you around, isn’t that more on her than it is on you?

Jungkook soon finds you after you’ve nursed a few drinks, leaning unceremoniously against a barstool. His eyes widen at your state, and he immediately sheds his jacket to wrap it around your waist.

“Why did you drink so much?” he chastises, “it’s the night before the wedding.”

“Jungkookie,” you warble, clutching your stomach, “I don’t feel so good.”

He sighs, bending down. “Get on my back. Make sure the jacket covers you up, okay?”

He doesn’t even grunt when you put all your weight on him, feeling like a ragdoll as he hoists you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting him carry you to your room. Most of the older family already went upstairs to sleep, so none of your cousins could care less when they see you get hauled away by Jungkook.

You inhale, he smells like sweat and cologne. “I like putting my head between your neck,” you babble, and you feel Jungkook chuckle through his chest, “you smell so nice there. It’s the bestset! Comfiest place ever, ‘specially when m’sleepy.”

“Are you sleepy now, baby?” You love how smooth the petname falls from his lips.

“I will be when we get upstairs,” you reply, happy to see the elevator is empty. “I’m just all up in my head.”

“Is that why you were drinking so much? You said you were gonna stop earlier.”

“Yeah, but,” you shamefully tuck your head in his shoulder, “I was frustrated.”

“Frustrated? At who?” concern laces his tone as he struggles to hold you with one hand and fumble for his key in the other. You tighten your legs around his slim waist until the door clicks open, and he immediately walks over to your bed to plop you down. “Babe, are you crying?” he finally has a good look at your face, horrified to see the streaks of tears mixed with mascara running down your face.

“I wa-was jealous,” you confess tearily, clutching your face in your hands, “some girls in the bathroom were calling you sexy and that you were only here so you could try to win over Doyeon. I know it sounds ridiculous and you would never do that but. The thought of you getting back with her makes me so jealous and I hate it! I’m starting to feel so guilty about this, all of this. I put all of this on ourselves and I’m ruining it.”

“Ruining what? You’re not making any sense.” Jungkook places a hand on your knee, crouching down so he can look up at you.

“I’m ruining us,” you gush despondently, “I’m ruining any potential of us before we even start.”

Jungkook freezes, hand clutching your knee like a lifeline. The potential of you two together? You’ve thought of that? Jungkook didn’t drink much tonight, so his mind is definitely running on all cogs.

Coming to a conclusion, he rubs slow, soothing circles on your knee, his other hand reaching up to wipe the tears from your face. “You’re not ruining anything,” he declares firmly, “that’s impossible. I may have agreed to fake-date you because of Doyeon, but I stayed because of you.”

His heart aches seeing you so upset, and he decides to take initiative to get you out of your clothing and ready for bed. You don’t have any words, opting to let Jungkook take care of you as you try to calm yourself down. He finds a spare t-shirt, a long one so you’ll be comfortable. He doesn’t bat an eye when he unzips your dress, in favor of balling up the shirt and getting you clothed as fast as possible. He rifles through the bathroom to find your makeup wipes, and he’s gentle when he scrubs up the once pretty makeup you spent half an hour doing. Barefaced and fresh, you look sleepy and ready to crash.

But before Jungkook can tuck you in, you clutch his arm.

“Jungkook,” you murmur sleepily, “I think I lo—”

“I know, baby,” he doesn’t want a confession like this, and he’s sure you wouldn’t want it either. You still look a little green and you’re not sober, so he makes the executive decision to pin these feelings for later. “I’m not trying to invalidate you, I promise. I want you to tell me this, all of this in the morning. We’ll talk then.”

“Okay,” you melt in the sheets, pulling the blankets up to your chest. When you see Jungkook move away from the bed, you jolt, “Where are you going?”

Jungkook smiles, reaching over to tuck you back in, “I left my blazer in Namjoon’s room. I’ll be right back, okay?”

He walks out of your room as quietly as he can, making sure to close the door slowly. Once it’s sealed shut, he leaps up, giving himself a silent cheer as he bounds down the hall. You like him back!

The smile on his face is tired but full of fervor as he makes his way to Namjoon and Doyeon’s suite. He doesn’t even care that he probably has to talk to Doyeon to get his jacket back, thoughts filled with the excitement of his requited feelings and going back to his room to cuddle up with you.

He doesn’t even have to knock when the large double doors swing open. Dumbfounded, he looks down at Doyeon, wearing a tiny black nightie and dangling his jacket with one finger. It’s an outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination, and he feels his neck heat up at the feeling he’s encroaching on an intimate moment.

“You left this,” she says slowly, a tiny smirk on her lips.

“Uh, thanks,” he says, making sure not to touch her when he grabs his blazer.

In her other hand she holds up her room’s designated ice bucket. “Could you also get me some ice, please? Namjoon’s fast asleep and I really don’t want to walk out all… exposed.”

He swallows his sigh, knowing it’s going to take significantly longer to get back to you when Doyeon drawls like this. “Of course,” he replies tersely, “after all, you are the bride.”

“Thanks, Jungkookie.”

He makes quick work of getting Doyeon the ice, pumping his long legs down the hall. The ice room is cold and cramped, barely enough for his tall frame to fit in. He jabs the container in the holder, pressing the button ten times per second to get as much ice out as possible.

As soon as he turns around with the ice, he drops the whole bucket.

Like glass, it shatters onto the ground, hundreds of little clear pebbles skimming across the floor like marbles. Doyeon’s pushing Jungkook against the ice machine, freshly manicured hands splayed across his chest. Her body is flush against his, making sure that he feels all of her with her thin silk gown.

“What the fuck, Doyeon get off of me!” a little part of him hopes she’ll come to her senses on her own so he doesn’t have to put his hands on her.

“C’mon, Kookie,” her voice is a sickly candy sweet, her eyes wide with hunger as she takes in his form, “just one more night, you and me. Like old times. One more night before I tie the knot.”

“You’re crazy,” he balks, running his hand through his hair, “this is sexual harassment, do you know that?”

“You don’t mean that, Kookie,” Doyeon dips a red-tipped nail down his chest, “why settle for someone like y/n when I’m right here?”

He grabs her wrists, firm. She winces at the contact, but doesn’t say anything when Jungkook delivers her a scary glare. It gets her quiet, fearful of this version of Jungkook. Doyeon’s never seen Jungkook like this before, so unwilling to bend at her whim and emanating all his power against her.

“Why settle for your cousin?” he whispers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “because, I love her.”

Her lip curls in disgust, nails digging into the palm of his hand. “But you loved me first.”

“And I’ll love her last,” he spits pack, letting go of her. His anger splits for a brief second, regarding Doyeon with sorrow, “this is low, even for you.”

Jungkook pushes past the ice, wobbling out of the ice room. He doesn’t look back, he just knows that he needs you right now. He needs to tell you everything, figure out a plan to cancel the wedding or something.

But when he crashes inside the room, you’re dead asleep. He can’t find the courage to wake up Seokjin as well, who returned and is sleeping in his club outfit. He groans, feeling useless as he stares at the two of you, ignorant of what just conspired ten minutes ago.

And Namjoon, what is he going to tell Namjoon? Poor guy doesn’t deserve any of this.

Walking up to your side of the bed, he tucks your loose hair behind your ear. You look so peaceful now, so beautiful.

It’s just going to have to wait until the morning.

The morning of the wedding, you wake up alone.

The first thought that runs through your head is that Jungkook has rejected you. The little, insecure bug that will never go away in your brain fills you with rash thoughts. He’s on a flight half way back home and he regrets this whole week.

But after that exaggeration, you notice two aspirin and a bottle of water on your nightstand, along with your phone that’s fully charged.

You pull up the screen to check the dozens of messages that flood your app.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: morning babe, im sorry i had to leave early. Namjoon showed up at our door freaking out that his suit is the wrong fit and shade. Now im running around vegas trying to find a replacement that doesn’t look like an elvis presley extra

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: but i didn’t forget what you said last night, i promise! Just go get ready and i’ll meet u at the chapel outside the resort.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: i also have something to say to you

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: wow i didn’t realize how ominous that sounds. Dw, everything will be fine

When someone tells you something will be fine, it’s a universal agreement that no, things will not be fine.

So you get dressed, and put on your makeup mindlessly. You don’t really know what to make of Jungkook’s cryptic message, but you decide to leave those thoughts in the back of your mind as you go to the other rooms to help your family get ready.

Seokjin is busy tying the ring bearer’s tie, looking handsome with his slicked back hair and polished grey suit. “Morning, cousin,” he sing-songs, “you look beautiful today!”

You smooth out your dress, a cascading silver number with starry sparkles. You feel like you’re living out your magical girl fantasies, wrapped up in layers of tulle and a sparkly sweetheart bodice.

“Right back at you. Say, you didn’t see Jungkook this morning, did you?”

“No, but I heard he’s with Namjoon hunting for a new suit. Why?”

“Nothing,” you lean against the guest table, “he just said something really ominous over text.”

“I will never get a peaceful day so long as I’m in this family,” he says this directly to the ring bearer, a toddler who’s obviously confused at his uncle’s weird sayings.

Your phone beeps conveniently, displaying Jungkook’s name.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: just got his suit. We��ll be there in fifteen. Meet me at the garden behind the chapel, please. It’s urgent

Now you’re just worried. So you tell Seokjin your sentiments, and that he should have his phone on hand in case you needed him. With a confused nod, you leave him to go down to the garden.

The groomsmen and bridesmaids are already at the chapel taking pictures. Only the wedding party is really allowed at this time, but you manage your way through the gardens virtually undetected. Jungkook’s already waiting for you, hiding under a white gazebo overlooking the hotel’s fountain.

He looks gorgeous in his all black pinstripe suit, hair pushed back and pants fitted perfectly around his waist and thighs. When he sees you he gets up, full of skittish energy. You note that his hair isn’t even styled, only washed and curling slightly at the ends, as if he’s in a rush.

“W-wow,” he marvels when you rush up to him, “you look gorgeous.”

You drop the handful of silver tulle, letting it fall to the floor. “Jungkook,” you clasp his hand in both of his, guilt flooding your eyes. You’ve been thinking about this all morning, and you need to cut to the chase. Jungkook tries to open his mouth but you silence him with a finger on his lips. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I know this sounds really stupid and you probably don’t want anything to do with me after this, but I shouldn’t have made this elaborate scheme,” you bite your lip, feeling even more antsy as Jungkook squirms in his grip. He however, is trying very hard to focus with his eyes, confused at your sudden confession. “I like you, Jungkook. I don’t want to parade you around like a revenge plot anymore, it isn’t fair and it’s wrong in so many ways—”

“That’s great,” he says simply, brown eyes swirling with thoughts, “um, ditto. But—”

“Wow,” you frown, “I pour my heart out to you and this is what I get?”

“It’s great that you want to be selfless right now,” Jungkook takes your hand, firm and tight, “but without this elaborate scheme, we wouldn’t be saving asses like we are right now.”

“What are you talking about?” You thought Jungkook rushed you down here so you could talk about each other’s feelings before the wedding.

“Doyeon just threw herself on me last night. I got her ice and she took that as an invitation to seduce me like an episode of Sex and the City. Namjoon needs to divorce her, like yesterday.”

Your face then morphs into something dark and ugly, and you fling your whole confession out the window. The thought of Doyeon going as far as throwing herself on Jungkook as a last ditch attempt to get back at you, has you seeing blood red. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner!”

“You were asleep!” he shoots back, putting his hands on your shoulders. He rubs warm strokes up and down your bare arms, “please relax. You’re shaking.”

“And why didn’t you tell Namjoon when you were driving around all morning?”

“I tried to!” he retorts, hands swinging in the air. You huff when his hands land back on your shoulders, preventing you from running to the chapel to extract Doyeon out yourself, “but he just kept talking shit about how much he loves Doyeon and he can’t imagine being together with anyone but her and I felt so bad! I’m sorry I chickened out. I really don’t wanna be the one to break Namjoon’s heart. I’m just the plus one!”

You pinch your brows, mulling it over. “Fuck it, let’s crash a wedding,” you declare, “where’s Namjoon and how can we get him alone?”

Jungkook exhales, a hand carding up to loosen his thin silver tie. “He’s taking pictures with the groomsmen right now. It’s gonna be awhile before we get a chance to talk.”

“Fuck,” you curse, sitting down on the white bench. Jungkook presses soothing circles on your back. “We have no choice, we have to get to him before the ceremony starts.”

“You’ll have to get through me, first.”

Doyeon’s not even in her wedding dress when she strides up to the two of you. She’s in ballet flats with her hair and makeup done, but the only thing she’s wearing is the thin underdress of her actual ball gown, a simple silk negligee that reaches her ankles. You don’t even know how she’s managed to escape the bridal party, especially without her dress.

Feeling protective, you step in front of Jungkook. “Before you say anything,” you murmur, “I’m not ruining your wedding, and I never wanted to. You’re ruining it because of your mistakes.”

“Oh, boo-hoo,” Doyeon rolls her eyes, playing with her nails, “I didn’t even do anything wrong, everyone knows that on the bachelorette’s night she can do whatever she wants. Namjoon could’ve fucked whoever too if he wasn’t so faithful.”

“Namjoon is ten times the partner you are and would never do that,” You’re seeing red, unable to comprehend the complete garbage spilling from Doyeon’s lips. “You touched my boyfriend without his consent, and I will never forgive you for that,” your voice is scarlet, angry and thin.

“It’s not like he isn’t used to it, I—”

“NO!” the sound that comes out of your mouth has all three of you flinching, and you’re thankful the gazebo is far enough so that the rest of the wedding party is oblivious to your actions. “You’re not allowed to justify yourself anymore, Doyeon. What you did was fucked up, what you’ve done to all of us is fucked up!” You realize now that you didn’t need to get back at Doyeon with a fake date, what you needed was this. You needed a reprieve, a chance to lay down your law. “Jungkook was right all along. You are jealous. You’re jealous and selfish and have no shame. You think you own whatever you set your eyes on, but you’re wrong. We’re not objects, we’re people.”

You walk up to Doyeon, eye to eye. You jab a hand at her chest, pushing her back slightly. You soak up your cousin’s expression, and you watch as Doyeon’s eyes pop out in surprise at your act of boldness. “So you have a choice here. You can either swallow your pride and leave Namjoon at the aisle quietly and save whatever dignity you have left. Take your pathetic ass on the next flight back home and pack up your apartment. Or, we can start a big scene at your ceremony,” you probably look manic, filled with freshly injected power, “I know Seokin’s always wanted to yell ‘I object!’ at a wedding.”

“You have no proof,” Doyeon glares right back, taking a step closer to you. Your noses are practically touching, but you dig your heels in the white-stained wood, puffing up your chest and standing your ground.

“Doesn’t matter,” you bite back, “what matters is that Namjoon will doubt you. Namjoon knows we’d never do anything to sabotage a wedding without a valid reason. Even if you do get married tonight, we have Jungkook’s word and proof of a relationship that overlaps with his. I find this option to be far worse because it’s prolonging the inevitable,” you shrug, “I hope you two didn’t sign a prenup.”

Hot, angry tears mess up her meticulously done makeup. Black rivers carve through her porcelain skin, showing the feelings that have been dormant since been hidden under a facade. Doyeon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. She’s practically vibrating in combined fear and rage, seeing blurry images and memories and regrets of what could’ve been if not for her self-absorption. And finally, your cousin comes to a decision.

“I hate you,” she emphasizes each word with the most concentrated of venoms in her tone. WIth one last look at the two of you, she stomps away. Instead of going to the direction of the chapel however, she takes the shortcut back to the hotel.

Her grave words are unsurprising, but nevertheless disappointing. A thinly veiled smile grazes your lips, sadder than ever as you watch your cousin go. “And I pity you.”

As soon as she’s gone Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hugging you tightly as you fight the urge to cry again. “Oh babe, that was really hot. The way you stood your ground? That was amazing!” Jungkook takes out his silver pocket square to wipe the stray tears that threaten to ruin your makeup. “You’re so strong, don’t you know that? You did it and I’m so proud of you.”

As much as you want to revel in the affection, go back and bed and fall asleep until noon, you can’t. Grasping Jungkook by the hand, you tug him to the chapel. “C’mon,” you say, “we have to corner Namjoon.”

The groomsmen photos are done by the time you get there. Thankfully, the to-be-groom doesn’t look too occupied. His eyes widen upon seeing you two stumble from the garden of all places.

“Oh, y/n. Jungkook,” Namjoon tilts his head curiously at how winded you two look, equally flushed and out of breath. From your state, Namjoon muses that it must've taken a lot of effort to finally get to the groom unattended, save for a few random family members he’s making small talk with, “The wedding isn’t for another hour but I must say, you two look radiant together. Doyeon always thought you’d end up an old spinster-catlady, but I always told her that you’re too beautiful to be single for long,” he pauses to send the aforementioned man a wink, “Jungkook’s a lucky guy. What were you two doing back there?”

“Uh, things?” Jungkook scratches the back of his head, not wanting to reiterate the fiasco between Doyeon moments before.

Namjoon smirks at the ebony-haired man, “Couple things?”

You can’t take this needless small talk anymore. With a teary groan, you throw yourself at Namjoon. You hug him tight, and you don’t even care when you feel a slosh of his water bottle sprinkle your hairstyle.

“Joonie,” you bemoan, “please, please don’t leave me. You’re the best not-cousin ever. I know it’ll be a pain to face Doyeon after today but you’re a strong independent man and when you’re ready Jin is single and ready to mingle—ow! Jungkook! Did you just pinch my ass?”

“Do you really think setting him up with the next cousin is the best idea right now?”

“I figured a little humor would lighten the blow,” you sulk.

“I’m sorry what—what blow?” Namjoon frowns, pushing you away from him. “Y/n, have you been crying?”

The tears resurface at that moment, like a kettle on overboil. Namjoon’s face is knitted together, unable to grasp at any conclusion. Namjoon feels something grave is upon the sky as he tenderly brushes away your tears with his thumbs before releasing you. Instantly Jungkook pulls you to his chest, patting you soothingly. As much as you two do not want to be the bearer of bad news, the time is now.

“Namjoon,” Jungkook says, finding the strength that was previously stuck in his throat, “we have to tell you something.”

Needless to say, Las Vegas is very forgiving when it comes to last minute wedding cancellations.

The whole wedding party, both Namjoon and yours, collectively feels like a whole ice bucket has been dumped upon your families. You would like to say that the whole issue was handled mess free, but that would be a bald-faced lie.

There was screaming, crying, hysterical laughter from all sides. Doyeon’s parents were of course furious, embarrassed, unable to calm down a hysterical Doyeon as they haul her on the next flight home. You have a feeling they won’t be showing up to family events anytime soon.

Namjoon’s family leaves quietly, frustrated, but classy. After all, they know at the back of their heads they dodged a bullet. Everyone leaves except Namjoon however, who isn’t quite ready to go back to his and Doyeon’s apartment. Namjoon invites Seokjin and some other close cousins to stay in his suite until their flight tomorrow afternoon, wanting to be surrounded by close friends and (almost) family.

As for your family, they decide to find the silver lining. While the chapel was able to cancel the wedding, the reception wasn’t as easy to sway. At the very last second, your grandparents decided to make use of the reception and renew their Golden Anniversary vows instead. The ceremony will be a quick, sweet affair. At this very moment, your cousin Yoongi is getting officiated online.

And for you? You’re in the place where you’ve wanted to remain all week. A fluffy hotel bed wrapped up with your not-boyfriend.

Or?

Would a not-boyfriend be snuggling against your chest like you’re the softest teddy bear in the toy shop? Would a not-boyfriend be hooking your leg atop his lap, forcing you to latch onto him so his hands can roam freely against your soft thighs?

“We have to get ready for the wedding,” you whine against his hold, to no avail when he only holds you tighter.

“But your grandparents are already married,” Jungkook whines right back, nuzzling his nose in your head. “This is like an afterparty fifty years later.”

“I wanna get dressed,” you insist, pushing yourself up, “and we still need to talk.”

Without Seokjin staying with you, the hotel room feels much bigger and freer for the two of you. Your clothes are scattered on the floor, uncaring of any wrinkles or smears that would get on the delicate fabric.

All that matters is that Jungkook is still here with you. Doyeon’s wedding is called off, but he’s still lying in bed with you. You want to burn this image to memory, and keep it forever. Jungkook laying in only his white undershirt and boxers, looking at you dreamily as if he’s still in nap-mode. Hair that was previously windswept and exposing his forehead is now out of place, fluffy and sticking out in all directions. His cheeks are flushed with coral-colored warmth, and a little puffy because you two have been sleeping most of the afternoon.

“Right, talk,” he repeats, letting you hand him his black button up so he can clothe himself.

You throw off your shirt somewhere behind you, not wanting to face him as you walk to the full-length mirror. “So, I think my feelings for you are pretty clear and out in the open…”

“Same, I think I made it pretty clear as well.”

“What? You turn around, looking at where he’s still half-covered in bed. “You did not. I distinctly remember almost confessing my love to you last night. And then this morning, only for you to cut me off and say ‘that’s great’.”

“Oh,” he stares at the white sheets that cover his lower half. “I guess I didn’t then.”

You smile wryly, turning back to face the mirror so you can slip into your dress that’s been pooled around your ankles like a silver halo. “Maybe you thought it in your mind and forgot to tell me.”

That seems about right. Jungkook has a tendency to be a little too passionate for his own good, windswept in thoughts and feelings until they consume him. He hops out of bed, walking only in his dress shirt and socks as he makes his way to the mirror. “Then let me do all the talking,” he says softly against your neck, hands on your hips.

You shiver when you feel the cold silver of the zipper whirr up your body, Jungkook’s large hands splaying across your back to smooth out the waistline.

“You of all people would know that being with Doyeon is a trip,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck, “I thought that was what love felt like. Being codependent, jumping through hurdles, trying so hard to please someone who can’t be pleased.”

Jungkook’s hands wrap around your waist, hugging you tightly. He squeezes you and holds you like the most precious thing in the entire world. Through the mirror, you two are quite a pair.

“But with you, I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

“So… are you saying you love me?” you fight the urge to bounce around in his grip, the biggest smile on your face.

“You really just want me to say ‘I love you’ and be done with it, huh?”

Within seconds he’s pulling you from behind, whirling you around to the edge of the bed. He manages to flouce up your skirts to billow around his lap, sitting you down on his bare thighs.

“You look like a cupcake, all sprawled up like this,” Jungkook says cutely, peppering kisses in a trail from your chest all the way to your lips. “You look like a huge, silvery cupcake and I love you. It’s so easy to love you.”

Maybe it was kismet that Jungkook didn’t get to you first all those years ago. Maybe the right time is right here, right now.

“I love you, too,” you say happily, dipping down to press a long, passionate kiss to his lips. He tastes like love and a happy future. When you pull away, you encapsulate his face in both your palms, regarding him like the sun and stars. “But you know, if we date you’ll never get away from my crazy family.”

Jungkook snorts, pressing his forehead to yours, “And miss Yoongi re-marrying off your grandparents tonight, the next year of Seokjin and Namjoon running circles around each other, and a lifetime of happiness?” his hands snake under your dress, finding purchase in your soft skin, “not a chance.”

#jungkook x reader #gcn23 #goldenclosetnet #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst

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smolchildlevy · 2 years

Note

Shiratorizawa x reader in the training camp??? Like the reader is the only manager there and helping the other teams (the rest is up to you) a little bit of jealousy if you prefer 😀❤

Yesss 🏃‍♀️

Training camp as Shiritorizawa’s manager <3

Warnings: crack, language, fluff

-The day you met them was a day they wont forget.

-Your kindness knew no bounds, and they couldn’t help being attracted to you.

-For such a powerhouse of a team, you thought they would be rough around the edges and intimidating. You took the role of manager anyways.

-Some were quite rough, while others were much different.

-You really grew on them tho bc you’re the cutest thing to them 😭

-Oml even Ushijima and Shirabu became softer around you.

-Training camp was getting closer, and they couldn’t help but be a little put off by how many teams would be there.

-Not because they were afraid, no, they were excited for that. It was because they didn’t want anyone trying anything on their little manager <3

-When the day came, all was well for a bit untillll the other managers informed you they had other duties to do.

-“Sorry, Y/N.. do you think you can handle our teams too? If not, it’s alright!” Kaori asked, the others nodded.

-“Ahh yeah it’s fine with me.” You smiled, confirming your willingness.

-“Thank you thank you thank you!!” She shook your hands with hers.

-Tendou heard this because he’s got amazing hearing skills 😎

-You return to your team to let them know that you’ll also be helping around.

-“Y/NNNN don’t tell me you’re leaving us?!” He pouts.

-“You sure you can handle this?” Semi asked.

-“Yeah, it’s not too much work!” You mention.

-“Awww but we won’t see you!” Goshiki whined.

-“Don’t worry, you’ll see me every now and then!” You patted his head. Or you tried, having to go on your tippy toes 💀.

-It’s their worst nightmare.

-You first head to Karasuno, the furthest team to you so you can move down closer to your team again later.

-All you saw was chaos. Tanaka and Noya were literally sobbing bc their beloved queen was gone.

-“Hi, I’m Y/N! I’m sure Kiyoko informed you guys about the situation?”

-The two boys’ heads shot up faster than the speed of light.

-They sprinted to your side.

-“Well hello there sweet mama!” They shout.

-Suga hits the back of their heads.

-“Yeah, it’s nice to meet you! I hope you don’t mind those two.” He says, looking at them.

-You became more comfortable with them, eventually having some of the team members simp for you.

-Wow that was quick- you must be attractive then huh? 👀

-“Ahhh sorry you guys.. I gotta go to Jozenji now to fill their bottles.” You stated.

-“So soooon?!” Noya whines.

-Your team watched you like a hawk though, a bit of jealousy emanating from them

-They were especially alarmed at the team you were going to next.

-As you approached, the captain of the team made his way to you.

-“Hello there beautiful~” he says.

-“Uhm hey. I assume your manager told you about what’s happening?”

-“Why yes she did.” Bobata says.

-Some surround you, trying to flirt.

-Your face became one of slight discomfort as they did.

-Oml now Shiritorizawa was fuming. Even the team they were playing for even more frightened by their expressions.

-“H-Hey uh, I gotta go refill your bottles..”

-“Why don’t you stay here with us longer though? That can wait.” Terushima winks as his arm went to wrap itself over your shoulder.

-Someone stopped his arm though.

-“Yeah, no. That’s enough of that.” Tendou scoffs.

-“I think it’s better for you to just leave her alone. Let her do her job.” Reon suggests.

-“Ugh fine.” Terushima and the others let out a ‘tch’, before leaving.

-“Guysss you didn’t have to do that they’re just being friendly!”

-“Did you not see them?” Tendou mentions.

-“It was clear their intentions weren’t good.” Reon added.

-The two lead you back to your team because they “needed something”.

-“Y/N.” Ushijimia catches your attention.

-“Hm? What do you guys need?”

-“We are going to have at least one of us accompany you as you go to the other teams.”

-“That’s not really needed guys-“

-“But Y/NNN” Tendou complains.

-“Hmm fine, if you say so.”

-“Yay!”

-They just want to make sure nothing happens to their beloved Y/N.

-So yeah, they were super stubborn and jealous- they just wanted to keep you for their own.

——

Reqs open!

#smols anons <3 #Haikyuu x reader #fluff #x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #hq x reader #hq imagines #shiritorizawa x reader #Tendou x reader #shiritorizawa

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the-acid-pear · 3 years

Text

Tumblr refuses to let me reblog the post again, so this is the second part of me reading the second btg book! ☺️

Still Chapter 211

Son on son violence

Chapter 212

This dude pretty cute ngl

Shit, rip

AAWW HIGH 5 🥺🥺

It's almost like they are a regular father and son 😭🥺💔

Chapter 213

Look how thigh those shirts are hehehoho 🥴

OYXITSITDITDLTD

Ooooh there goes my man Jyaku ready to kick some ASS

🥺😭💞

Baki really just forgot his mom eh, thought you were getting stronger for HER smh

Oh Jyaku vs Retsu? Nvm Jyaku i can only hope Retsu is nice w you

I like how most are like, confused over who to cheer for lmao

I know he won't make it but I'm cheering for Jyaku btw i like him more <33

Chapter 214

Love that title, can't believe Jyaku is gonna ask Retsu out 😍 /j

He really is just honest Igari

I love that he apologizes

Chapter 215

OJFOYDITDISTOTDG

HIS FACEEE THIS FUCKING CLOWN 😭😭😭

THIS IS JUST SO FUCKING FUNNY

Chapter 216

Burgir

GHZJDUDDRHD THEY ARE SOOO MAD

That smile so cute...

Jyaku is a king

Love it when Retsu throws that pose, though y'all know why

HDGSSGSGF you are coming to Japan wether you like it or not 🔫

Chapter 217

Finally Jyaku got serious too

WITH HIS TOES 😭

King is just obsessed i luv him

HEHE HAIRY LEGS

It does seem like Jyaku is trynna confess his love jfnshdshdf

Chapter 218

I remember i almost laugh cry with my dad when we saw this

His damn beard... 💔

THE HAND OF THE TRAITOR

He has a good point

They be calling my man Jyaku a masochist noooo yfjdhdgs

Chapter 219

Okay seems kinda into it <:/

Old man? He doesn't look that old Baki :/

That was so smart 🥺

Chapter 220

Retsu calm down please you are gonna break his back

Oh my god Retsu, oh my god.

He did apologize at least

Chapter 221

Damn dude be a little more gentle with him

Oh, get was picking him up, okay

FR FR

🥺🥺🥺

FARHDHDYFTH THE KINGGG

Chapter 222

I love how everyone completed him (except Yujiro but not surprising), these warriors are such a good team

I want to eat an apple too now

That was fast

I got distracted watching a vsauce react video sorry

Okay I'm glad a comment actually mentioned Sik

Chapter 223

Had to take a uh idk 5 hour break bc lights went out :/

Feet be fuming lmao

Ohhh that's a cool analysis

Chapter 224

What a good punch

That "please",,,

Poor Li man, having to see his brother DIE /j

No, Viêt Long, i have not been hit by a truck before.

Chapter 225

It's so funny how Jyaku lost bc he fought a main charac and only those win

Sad day for the Chinese citizens

Mf got tits in his back

This is gonna be so goodddd

Chapter 226

Look at the size of his tits, the slut

INSTAGRAM INFLUENCER POSE WOOO

These two are cool fighters

Chapter 227

Old man showing skin

His smile is so fucked up lmao

Chapter 228

Baki what the FUCK are you wearing?

I just remembered when Hana did a flip, that was so good

Retsu babey 🥺

I love how confused Yujiro looks

Chapter 229

Hey, i recognize that name...

Kaku just too op

Yujiro you are gonna pop your testicles if you do that with your leg

Chapter 230

God that's such a good threat

Love Retsu's confusion

Damn bitch you saying we gotta keep up w this whore cuz you were too slow? Ffs Kaku 😢

I love when you can tell someone is still hanging around just quietly by seeing their response in a comment

Chapter 231

God this just feels so good, to see Yujiro actually scared 😍

YOOO THAT'S POG

Chapter 232

I wanna finish this book and start the next one grrr

This fight is so satisfying

That last bit is so cringe but whatever that's okay

Fight so controversial comments were deactivated

Chapter 233

Itagaki hincha de boquita el más grande? 😳 /j

Okay yeah it IS just rude

Hohoooo shit getting nice

Chapter 234

This asshole lmao

Yuji-chan really went "how many times do i have to teach you this lesson, old man?!"

Mfs be doing Jojo references in the comments lol

Chapter 235

GTFO WITH THAT LOGIC RETSU IM SORRY CHINA IS LOSING BUT GET LOSTTTT AJSGAJGS

Ffs Kaku you are doomed 😢💔

Yujiro so strong my mouse disconnected

Chapter 236

Abs in his back...

Crying and shaking that is NOT true

DON'T FEED HIS EGO, KAKU

LIONS CAN BE KILLED BY TIGERS TOO!!!!

I thought Yujiro was bleeding for a second there smh

Chapter 237

OKAY YEAH IT IS HIS BLOOD ITS COMING OUT OF HIS NOSE ITS NOT MUCH BUT HE BLED

THE HEAD APPLAUSE

HE'S SO UPSET LMAOOO

Yujiro surprised is good shit

GSJDUFTHSTD

KAKU YOU LEGEND LMAO

Kaku has boyboss energy

Chapter 239

This cover almost gives me a stroke

I love how they all just shat their pants

These minor Chinese characters were so good tbh, sadly i don't think they will ever return

Don't worry Retsu, we the viewers have seen a man revive before

King i don't think any of us understands

It really is

CAN MEN IN THIS FRANCHISE JUST OPEN BOTTLES REGULARLY?!

Oh my god i though Yujiro was sitting on the air for a second i almost cry 😭

Coca cola must have paid Itagaki /j

Chapter 240

Oh so the Kaioh part takes the name, not the surname

...is Yujiro wearing a floral shirt? 😭

I LOVE THAT ENDING SO MUCH 🥺😭

Jyaku has his eyes fixated on Retsu eh, proud of having him come to Japan lmao

Chapter 241

HORRIBLE fit Baki

CHILDHOOD SAGA PART 2? 😰

Jk though i do miss Yuri 🥺

Oh hey Jr

You gonna fuck his girl, bro?

Chapter 242

So straight forward lmao

I'm starting to appreciate Baki's feminist ass every day even more

AAAA GRANDPAAA 🥺🥺💞

This page didn't allow me to call two mfs virgins smh, 1984

Chapter 243

Grandpa they shrunk you

Chapter 244

Kings idc about this

Okay true but also he's 70 dude pls... Though idk if this guy will go thru worse than Jack lmao

Such a nice lad

Chapter 245

Baki being such a feminist icon is so meaningful considering how his parents were,,,

MY MAN IS BACKKK AND AS DAPPER AS EVER

Doppo he's called Ali Jr how are you surprised?

OH MY GOD I JUST REALIZED HIS EYE PATCH HAS A PATTERN THAT'S SO COOL 🥺🥺😢💞

These men love throwing their glasses eh

Chapter 246

If only Igari and Toba had done this lol

OKAY THATS COOL I LIKE THAT

Me lo re devaluaron a mí pelado eh

HEHE OOOOH NICE 😳

Scenes that give me a boner

CHU...

Such a good callback...

Chapter 247

My man got serious, sweet

Doppo has been trying out his luck a bit too much like he's been betting with his life an uncomfortable lot like king do you need to talk? Are you okay? First asking Gouki to kill him now this like, is everything alright Doppo?

YEAH A BIT FUCKED UP TO THINK ABOUT

I love that blocking technique

OSHWOWHIWWH "gay ass Orochi, out of option so he touching dick" SHUT UPPP 😭😭💀

I really wish he got kicked in the nuts again see if he's still using his technique

Chapter 248

Poor guys thought he was bout to get murdered

A kiss? 😏 /j

When i saw this in the anime i actually thought Orochi was going to die, i was gonna get sooo angry

Chapter 249

What a way to cockblock em

Feminist icon

Jack is that the only sweater you own?

Chapter 250

I have been thinking of that scene of him eating the whole steak a lot

Jr like 🥺

Imagine being stupid enough to tease Jack like, i get he defeated two masters but they are NOTHING compared to this monster

Imagine jack just smoked some weed right there lmao

Jack needs to bite people more

Chapter 251

My shitty ass son gave me parkinson's

Jack that's not how human anatomy works what the fuck did Kureha do to your body spine?

Chapter 252

DAMN JR WHAT A FAT ASS

Looked like Jack was going for a handful

Those techniques must fuck your neck up so bad

Okay Jack you are going a bit far now don't cha think?

Chapter 253

You are tempting your luck sunny boy

Look at that, you pissed him off!

You cannot just know out jack hanma bro

HHH

This was so stupid yet, unironically, iconic

Chapter 254

Bruh i thought it said Pog 😭, ain't manslaughter poggers Mr Hanma?

OKAY THANKS JACK

Such a simp he downed that coffee cup

Grandpa put here cockblocking

Chapter 255

"no he didn't >:/"

These two masters are a pair of fucking idiots like understand this i love my grandpa and i love my man but mfs have to take the L for this one time sksgwjgshgw

Gouki bro my senses gonna shut down if you put your sucks against the dirt again OUGH sensory hell 😭

FOR FUCKING REAL JR

STOP ENABLING THE OLD MAN!! WKSGKSGSJSHDD for once I'm on Viêt's side 😭

Chapter 256

Hoho Gouki out here getting a panty shot 😳

Grandpa i love you but this was unnecessary

Chapter 257

Kozue should wear a Korn tshirt

GET HIS ASS KOZUE

OWHWLWGISGSJWG 😭😭 MF JUST STANDING THERE LIKE A FREAK I LOVE HIM BUT I HATE HIM SM!!!

Love how consistently round his hands are, king got no knuckles

HEY DONT CALL MY MAN A FREAK KOZUE

King hasn't changed his clothes ever since i see

His shoes look so nice...

OKAY OKAY HE HAS A POINT AT LEAST, HE AT LEAST ACCEPTED HE LOST BUT HE'S STILL BUTTHURT FROM IT SKSGAJGS BUT HE ADMITS IT!!

Doppo i love you but shut UPPP you lost get over it!! You are just going for the rematch bc you have the higher ground against a injured guy!!! Like Shibukawa didn't have time but you were already getting serious!! Hhhgrrrrrr doppo i love you but I'm going to bark

Hehe nvm he still hella fine... keep talking king 🥴

This was so mean of him sjsgwjwg

Chapter 258

Low-key starting to believe these two mfs plotted against Jr sjshsj

THAT FACE AKSGWJGS just 😐

If i didn't know you would get your ass handed in a plate i would be a lil mad he's planning on being that savage

He has been thru worse, sunny boy

Niceee

Tbh. I don't care anymore. Doppo is in the wrong, but GOD I'm a simp and i love seeing him fight 😍😍🥴

Yeah a comment mentioned it, we all were on Jr side until he threatened to kill Doppo Orochi like, even if not everyone here is as horny as me we all like an og fella

I also love how the prisoners really changed them all, the scars (both physical and mental) those 5 left will be remembered lol

#luly talks #btg #i ran out of space but that's good cuz im sleepy and have 3% of battery lol #i wanted to reach chapter 260 but this works #14 last episodes for tomorrow woo #baki liveblog

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funsizearsonist · 3 years

Text

Headcanon 1/?

hey!! I know it’s a lil late in the day for this (as in: it’s past 12 so this was supposed to be up yesterday) but here you guys go! I figured I’d kick off this whole headcanon shabang with some good old-fashioned willie angst!

TW for talk of losing a soul?

What if losing your soul hurts more than the jolts?

I mean it makes sense right? With jolts it was just Caleb getting their souls, not destroying them

So it probably takes time for him to destroy a soul, because he's powerful but only so much

And completely destroying a soul has gotta take a lot of power, more than stealing one, so it would take more time

so what if the s2 deal is:

Caleb realizes what happened. He's lost Willie, because Willie has found someone else and become disillusioned with the hgc and everything he does. So it's time for Willie to Go

He tries not to tip willie off because he doesn’t want them to realize what's happening any sooner than he has to, because no one should be able to counteract him but they weren’t supposed to be able to get rid of the stamp either

But willie knows that something’s up because Caleb has to know. He has to know that he helped them cross over, has to know him being gone that day had something to do with the big show at the Orpheum. He should be mad? But he hasn’t even said a word, and willie is on their toes

Then he overhears Caleb discussing with his right hand man. Filling a position, a traitor, must be disposed of, something along those lines. And there’s really no question what that’s about.

So maybe he's panicking. So what? What could they be expected to do? He just sort of runs, then skates, away. There's nothing left for him at the club, they cant stay when Caleb is there and Caleb is killing them, in a way

So he hops on his skateboard and goes as fast as they can and when the streets get too busy and they’re not in the mood to pass through anything he picks up his skateboard and runs and when he's fully out of breath even though he's a ghost and all the fight drains out of him

He sort of just drops down to the ground, maybe on the beach

And figures if they’re gonna spend their last days anywhere, it might as well be here

And he knows he has a good few painful last days ahead of him because destroying a soul isn’t easy work

So he holds his skateboard and watches the sunset and cries

Because of the band that's gone now because of them

Because of Alex, who was so amazing and is now so painfully not there

And he lays down and gets hit by a jolt? of sorts? that feels like getting kicked in the chest and landing on your back at the same time

And it knocks all the air out of him, so he just stays there, staring at the sky. It’s not like they had anywhere to go anyway

And they just stay there, on their back, running his hand over one of his skateboard wheels, as the sky gets darker and darker and fills with stars, and then lighter again

Maybe humming Finally Free or something quietly to themself

Then the next morning, the boys take a walk on the beach

Or maybe just Alex

And they find willie there, crying

When he gets hit with another jolt thing that leaves him gasping for breath, doubled over in pain

So reunion!! The boys didn’t have to cross over and leave julie behind after all! They get to see Alex's face again, and they’re really happy for the boys, being free

But it's almost worse because now they’re leaving Alex again

And then he'll be just completely Gone and there's no coming back from that

So he tries to push Alex away, after all they only brought trouble and he doesn't want Alex getting too attached before he's gone

But Alex isn’t having it so he takes willie back to the Molinas’

And just showers them in love

And they don’t go on dates, really, but they decide to do a lot of the things they never got to do together

Most things they do as a family (willie, alex, reggie, luke, and probably also julie+co sometimes) The only true family willie's ever had

So willie's having a great time, when he's not being knocked on his ass by jolts

Willie decides to go on a date of sorts with Alex, close ish to his end

Because as the jolts get worse he doesn’t want that to be all they're thinking about

And he doesn’t want it to be Alex who's there/the only one there when they finally disappear

So the date is adorable and bittersweet

Maybe they go skateboarding, and they try to teach Alex a few things

And then Alex tries to teach him a few things on drums, because they both want to learn about the thing the other loves

But for the main part of the date

They just wander

Hold hands in public, which Alex isn’t quite used to but he loves

And just go where their hearts take them, with no concerns about time or caleb or anything, which willie certainly isn’t used to but its great

They end up at a park, and there's some music playing, and they dance, which they both love

The first song is fast and fun and just the way they're both used to dancing already

But the next one is slow and sweet and they just hold each other tightly and one or both of them ends up crying softly (i want it to be alex)

And willie feels a little bit lighter, but he brushes it off as the time spent with Alex, as getting things in order, feeling better about not missing all his chances to just be softly in love

They go home together, still holding hands

Because willie has a home now

He spends time with his family, and he has a moment like that with each of them (julie, luke, reggie)

Their moments probably come before his date with Alex bc Alex is most important but whatever

With reggie he gets to be himself and he doesn’t have to pretend to be happy all the time. (even though he could be himself with any of them it just feels right with reggie because reggie knows too) They talk about things that happened to them, reggie about his parents and willie about his foster home and caleb. And neither of them feels the need to joke, to paste on a smile, to cover it up. But it isn’t sad, it’s cathartic, they bond and connect. And their moment is when reggie gives them his leather jacket

With Luke, he gets to be reckless

They "break in" to places, play pranks (adhd impulsive boys anyone)

And their moment is when they're out somewhere and catch sight of something and all they need is a shared glance to run over and cause Ghost Antics, just like brothers

With Julie, they get to be goofy

They make jokes, use gen z humor, she brings in flynn and they do a fashion show sorta thing, and they end up baking cookies together with a movie in the background

Neither of them really know how to make cookies, and they turn out terrible, but in the process of making them they get into a food fight (although it doesn’t do much to willie) and julie accidentally spills that she used to bake with her mother but no one would do it with her ever since Rose died, but now that she has willie in her family too she has someone to bake with again

And each of these moments lifts some weight off of his shoulders, but he doesn’t quite realize it

Then he has his date with Alex

And the next day, as the jolts get worse, they spend the whole day as a family

Including Ray and Carlos who have been informed of the ghost situation

They watch movies, build a blanket fort, test his Ghost Powers for Carlos, eat dinner together

All the while, the jolts get less and less

Without realizing it, because willie is too caught up having fun with everyone

After dinner, they bring everyone out to the garage, and perform a song they wrote for willie

As a goodbye and a thank you and everything else they thought they'd never get time to say

Everyone gets an individual verse that they wrote themselves to say something to willie, including Ray and Carlos

Then they all sing the last verse together, and they’re free

He found a family despite Caleb's best efforts

They broke free from the brainwashing and misery and false front he had to put up at the hgc

He loved and was loved, unconditionally

And (not to get sappy) but that's what breaks through everything

Not just Caleb's efforts to destroy their soul, but caleb's ownership on it too

Especially when they've got julie molina on their side

(just to clarify, in this idea the assumption is that Julie can see willie but no other lifers can, either because She Can Just Do That or because of some bs that ill make up later)

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #jatp headcanon #jatp hc #julie and the phantoms headcanon #julie and the phantoms hc #willie jatp #willie julie and the phantoms #willie jatp hc #willie jatp headcanon #willie julie and the phantoms headcanon #funarson jatp hc

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lovlieziam · 4 years

Note

Can you write a totally fluffy fic about Ziam. They're cuddling and kissing.

I can, and I will!! I live for fluff and I make that other people’s problem.

Also bc I’m shameless you could maybe check out my other cuddling fics 🥺👉👈

There’s so Much that We Need to Share

When You’re Away

Snowed In

One Last Time

Liam hated mornings more than anyone. He hated everything about them. The sun was too bright, the air was too cold, and his eyes did that weird sandy-crusty thing that annoyed him.

Even though he would never admit it even under threat of death, he’d been terrified he was going to wind up with someone who loved mornings. He was afraid that he’d be force to wake up with the too-bright sun, be forced to look into their smiling, energetic face saying something like “isn’t it a beautiful morning?” And he’d have to swallow down his disgust, disguise his grimace, and give an equally disgusting reply like “yes.”

The point is, Liam hated mornings more than anyone, and his biggest fear was falling in love with someone who loved them.

And then he met Zayn, and he realized he hated mornings almost more than anyone.

He also fell in love, and he was no longer afraid of being chained to a morning person.

No, instead he got to wake up slowly, their curtains letting in just enough light to throw soft shadows dancing across the room. Instead, he got to wake up to raven black hair spilled out over their pillows, Zayn’s face smashed into his shoulder. Instead, he got to wake up deliciously, intoxicatingly warm, practically drunk off the feeling of love and contentment. He got to wake up before Zayn—who could put a fucking bear in winter to shame with how much he liked to sleep—and then watch as Zayn gradually woke up; eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, bleary eyes blinking up at Liam as a sleepy smile stole over his lips. Instead, every morning Liam got to wake up with butterflies in his stomach, an overwhelming feeling of happiness seeping into his bones.

Liam got to wake up blissfully, ridiculously in love every morning, and that thought still kind of blew his mind.

“Mornin’, sleepyhead,” Liam murmured, rolling onto his side so he was facing Zayn; so they were breathing the same air.

“M’rnin’,” Zayn murmured back, his voice thick with sleep. It made Liam’s grin wider.

He brought an arm up to curve around Zayn’s shoulder, his hand pushing his mess of hair back off his forehead and tucking it behind his ear. Zayn let out a content sigh, his eyes slipping closed once again as Liam continued petting his hair.

“Any big plans for today?” Liam asked.

Zayn hummed in response. “Bed.”

A laugh bubbled past Liam’s lips. “You’re in bed, sweetheart.”

“Mmhmm,” came Zayn’s sleepy reply. “and I don’ plan on movin’ f’r the res’ of th’ day.”

“That so?” Liam asked, shifting again so they were pressed together, chest to toes. “You mind if I stay with you, then?”

Zayn squirmed for a moment, trying to dig his arms out of their pile of blankets. When he finally freed them, he wrapped them around Liam’s waist, forcing himself more firmly into Liam’s space and throwing a leg over Liam’s hip. “I dare you t’ try an’ leave.”

Liam’s shoulders shook with suppressed laughter, love filling up his chest cavity so fast it felt close to bursting. “Not even to brush my teeth?”

“No.”

“But what if I wanna kiss you?”

Zayn paused, cracking one eye open to peer up at Liam, contemplating. “Okay,” he finally relented. Or, well, Liam thought he was relenting. “I think I can deal with bad breath as long as I don’t gotta get up.”

Liam felt his nose scrunch up. “That’s disgusting.”

Zayn simply shrugged, closing his eyes again. “Then don’t kiss me.”

Liam stuck his bottom lip out in a kiss. “But I want to kiss you.”

“Then deal with the bad breath. It’s really simple, Liam.”

Liam rolled his eyes, heaving out a put-upon sigh. “Fine, if I must kiss you with gross morning breath, I suppose that is a sacrifice I can make.”

A smile spread across Zayn’s lips, softening his features into something vulnerable—something lovely.

Liam wanted to kiss that smile. So he did. He ducked down, pressing his lips against Zayn’s in a soft, sleepy kiss. Zayn’s eyes were still closed, and Liam felt his own fluttering shut.

They stayed like that for several minutes, wrapped around one another, eyes closed, exchanging soft, affectionate kisses that had Liam’s toes curling. They kissed until Zayn started dropping off again, sleep winning the battle against consciousness.

Liam let out another content little sigh, rubbing his nose against Zayn’s—eliciting a few happy noises from the man—and thought, this is where I’m meant to be.

#theyre soft!!!!! and in love!!!!!#please just let them relax!!!!#also i write a lot of cuddling huh #turns out Im a hoe for it #also I’m on mobile so please forgive that this is such a long post #ANYWAY!!!!#ENJOY SOME FLUFFY MORNING CUDDLES #WE LOVE THAT FOR THEM 👏#long post #ziam #ziam fic #ziam drabble #fics #asks #my wiritng

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mblay-and-company · 4 years

Text

It’s Self Indulgent FanFiction time, ya’ll!!!

So I came across this Prompt List by @palettes-and-prompts and IMMEDIATELY became intrigued by the very first dialogue prompt, and since a certain Hotel in Hell with a certain Radio Demon has became my Hyperfixation for the time being, I have decided to indulge myself.

When I started, I really struggled to decide if I wanted to directly insert myself into this or make it a Reader Fic. I decided fuck it, this is for me! And then I struggled to decide which name to use for myself, bc most of my OC’s are named after me in some degree and it’s very awkward... :I

So, without further ado, have a FanFic featuring a human me hanging out in the Hotel and having been foolish enough to have made SOME deals with Alastor, but not stupid enough to sell my Soul to him. Misadventures of Michaela the Hell Temp, go!

"C'mon, toots, ya gotta tell me what yer kink is!"

Michaela let out a hard sigh, looking at the Effeminate Spider Demon with an exhausted glare.

"I don't need to tell you anything, Angel-"

"But I gotta know what freaky shit Smiles is into! You two clearly are into something!"

After Angel Dust learned about the "bizarre Deal" she admitted to have with Alastor, along with what she described as a light crush, he immediately started making assumptions. Honestly, it felt like he had been drilling her for hours for the "deets," even though it was probably only a few minutes at best.

"Angel, do you not understand how being Ace works-"

"Is it a Foot Fetish?! Are ya two into suckin' toes?!" He almost let out a cheer when he watched her react, but quickly realized she was recoiling in disgust.

"Angel, that's fucking gross! Do ya even know how much DEAD SKIN there is between toes???" She gagged out, her nose scrunched up.

"And why are we wondering about dead skin cells?" The two quickly turned to see a curious Alastor, quietly drinking a cup of coffee. He could hear the sounds of their argument halfway across the Hotel, and it finally piqued his interest.

"Al, you really don't wanna be a part of this-" She tried to warn him, only to get shoved out of the way by Angel.

"Smiles! What kinky shit do you two do during sex???" He practically screamed out with excitement. Alastor let out a sudden cough, choking on his coffee.

"I beg your PARDON?!" He sputtered out, his grin pulled tight and twitching in the corners. The static that emanated off of him seemed to intensify in agitation. With another hard sigh, Michaela gave Angel a harsh check to his side, knocking him to the ground.

"This idiot is CONVINCED that we must have sex together just because we do business with each other. He's been trying to delve into this nonexistant sex life for WAY too long, and I can feel a migrain coming on because of it." She scowled, rubbing her temples. Alastor made a cough to clear his throat out, looking over at Angel.

"I fear you have forgotten that not everyone is in the Prostitution Business, my effeminate fellow! And besides, I believe it is in your best interest to know that your little pet has squeezed himself under the oven, and our Charming Demon Belle can't coax him out. I offered my assistance, but she doesn't seem to trust me with the pig's safety!" He cried out in feigned offence, dramatically putting his hand over his heart in a swoon. Upon being told his beloved pet was potentially in danger, Angel let out a distressed gasp.

"Fat Nuggets, hold on, Daddy's coming for ya!!!" He cried out, sprinting down the hall at full speed. Michaela let out a hard sigh of relief, her shoulders slumping down.

"I thought he would never leave..." She muttered, before looking up at Alastor. "Is Nugs really stuck?"

"It would seem so..." He hummed thoughtfully. "I wasn't planning on telling Angel about it, but it certainly became a much needed means to remove him from the room!"

"It seems we both conveniently benefit from this..." She mused, rubbing her temples again. She was trying to think of ways to politely thank him without incurring a higher "tab" of debt with him. The dealings she already had with him were careful, but she knew full well that he was much more cunning than she was, and he was VERY good at pulling the "favor" card.

"Most certainly, my dear!" He laughed heartily. "I couldn't leave you in such a distressing state! Not when I would find myself just as uncomfortable!"

"Thanks for that..." She let out a soft sigh. Perhaps finding situations that were mutually beneficial really was the way to go?

"However..."

And there it was. She couldn't help but cringe as she watched him tap his chin thoughtfully, his eyes focused entirely on her.

"I can't help but think that our business dealings isn't the ONLY reason that spider was so insistent on believing we had a... Less than professional relationship?" His eyebrows quirked as he carefully studied her expression. She was a combination of conflicted, embarrassed, and possibly mocking? She was a massive kaleidoscope of emotions, many often showing off at once, making a very entertaining - Sometimes even unique - show for him.

"First of all..." She started, swirling her hand in circles to keep her thought process going. "... Describing our relationship as "Professional" is kinda laughable, considering the CLOSEST I could be described is a Temp for you." He simply responded with a static laced chuckle, followed with his disembodied laugh track, and a shrug.

"Second of all..." Her pause was a lot longer, rubbing one side of her temples with one hand as she held up a finger with the other, as if to say "One moment." She let out another hard sigh, and let out a mumbled "I can't believe I'm explaining this to you..."

"You have my full attention now, sweetheart, I am most intrigued with what you have to say! No backing out now!" He chimed with a quirked eyebrow, his eyes glistening with intrigue and possible mischief. With another sigh, she looked him dead in the eyes.

"I have a minor crush on you... A small infatuation..." She admitted, already regretting saying anything. She braced for the inevitable mocking as he processed what she said to him. Eventually he broke the silence with the hard laughter she expected of him, and after what felt like an eternity he wiped a tear from his eye.

"A horrible decision, really. I pegged you to at LEAST be a little smarter than that, darling..." He chuckled darkly, before bending down to bring his face to eye level with her. "After all, you know full well what horrors I am capable of, yes? What I have done, and will continue to do, for all of eternity?"

She could feel a lump of nervousness caught in her throat. His grin was impossibly wide and extremely dangerous, and his eyes were half lidded. He looked exactly like what he was; A predator with full control over the situation. If he decided to, he could kill her with such ease. With a hard swallow, she explained herself.

"I'm not naive... Nor am I complacent. I certainly don't support or condone the atrocities you've done..." She let out a hard sigh, repeating the circling motion with her hand to process her thoughts. "It's just easy to be... Charmed by your more gentlemanly behaviors... Your... Damn it, brain, you had this word five seconds ago... It's usually used in reference to illnesses that spread easy..." She muttered as the circling became much faster.

"Contagious?" He offered with a chuckle, straightening himself out. She admitted to this problem of forgetting words quite a while ago, despite her brain fully remembering the concept of the word she's attempting to say. It was an interesting dilemma, to say the least. She once anguished over forgetting the word "oven" for a week.

"Yeah, that one. Your high energy and smile are very contagious..." She said with a point, before continuing. "I always enjoy the music. I may be modern, and I know you don't support most of my taste, but I do really like smooth jazz and swing. You also genuinely make me laugh with your Dad Jokes, I find them hilarious..." The circling of her hand slowly became slower as she started to run out of her steam.

"I could never, in my right mind, try to chase after a serious romance with you, knowing full well the kind of monster you are... But I can still find some of your other traits endearing. I absolutely love a man who is passionate, kind of silly, gentlemanly, and for fuck's sake, you're an amazing cook! It's hard to not be smitten by something that's being chased away by modern views of how men should act..." With a final sigh, she looked him in the eyes, resolved but quite tired. She was surprised to see how much his expression had softened, especially with her last sentence.

". . . You are a remarkably. . . Perceptive individual, Michaela." He started softly, the static crackle nigh inaudible. "Especially with how your own mind works. I have seen, time and time again, fools allow themselves to spiral in such frivolous fantasies and drive themselves mad not knowing WHY they chased them in the first place. And yet you seem so capable of picking apart your own brain like a professional Psychologist. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't impressed to some degree."

She looked at him with a bewildered look, certainly not expecting any form of PRAISE from him like that. She said nothing, cautiously holding her tongue and waiting for the preverbal "but..."

"Given Angel's more... Crass nature, I can certainly see how he misconstrued your infatuation. However, it's clear as crystal to me that you wouldn't harbor such lustful intentions towards me!" He nodded to himself, seeming almost proud of this sudden character study.

"Never really was interested in sex." She laughs out matter of factly. "And I think most of us can agree you aren't, either, so I don't see how two people not interested suddenly makes a duo WILDLY interested, especially in the weirder things Angel was suggesting..." She cringed slightly at the thought of the toes again, but the both of them started laughing again. Alastor took a step closer, giving her a firm pat on the shoulders.

"Yes, indeedy, my dear! This is an unexpected turn of events for me, to find someone who shares my woes!" He chimed happily, using his hand to gently coax her head to look up at him. He hadn't seen her laugh and smile like this in a while, and it was a nice change of pace compared to her exhausted melancholy or entertaining - Albeit quick - flashes of anger. "There's that lovely smile that's been missing! As you know-"

"Yeah yeah, never fully dressed and all that." She chuckles with an eye roll. "Though it IS definitely nice to talk to someone who actually UNDERSTANDS the lack of interest..."

She continued to ramble on, but he stopped listening. She was usually very cautious about how he touched her, showing to be quite aversive if he attempted to go close to her neck in particular. But it was like she didn't notice where his hand was, and was getting complacent. Comfortable. Lowering her guard. He didn't bare his teeth to her, yet, but his smirk still pulled tight. He watched through half lidded eyes as she caught herself stumbling over her words, and slowly realized the situation she was in. As she slowed her ramblings to a stop, she attempted to move her head away; Only for him to tightly grip onto her face, his clawed fingers dangerously close to cutting into her cheeks. It was at this point, looking at her terrified realization, that he bared his teeth to her.

"A-Alastor, I..." She quietly pleaded, feeling cold sweat starting to bead on her forehead. Her body had tensed and her arms raised half way, but she stopped herself before trying to pry his hands away. Not only did she know that it would be a futile attempt with his Demonic strength, but it could have been foolish to DARE try to touch him. Her hands trembled in fear and conflict as he slowly pulled her face closer, forcing her to stand on her tiptoes, as he leaned in to close the distance. Mere hairs separated their noses.

"I will admit..." He started coolly, his eyes flicking down the hall quickly to make sure no one would interrupt him, before returning his gaze to the frightened girl in his grasp. "... The fact that Angel considered such a thing possible is quite amusing, even despite our... Lack of sexual desires. Do you know why, my dear..?"

"N-No, I don't..." She swallowed hard, not understanding where he could be bringing this conversation. She shuddered as he let out a cold laugh.

"It's amusing because even if we were both more active in seeking sexual gratification... You are still a small and weak living human. And, if I could be so frank..." He leaned closer to her ear, whispering with a sweet venom that made her blood run cold. "I don’t know if your fragile body can handle what I want to do to you."

He let out another dark chuckle before lowering her and releasing his grasp, reveling in the look of utter terror on her face; Eyes wide, mouth slack, and trembling like a small kitten caught in a rainstorm. And then, as if a switch flipped in his mind, his expression softened to the more excited and less threatening version of himself.

"Now, I do believe it's lunch time! Now I'm sure that Angel managed to get his little pet out of that little spot of trouble it was in, but perhaps I'll be able to have some bacon anyways!" He laughs with a jovial energy, as if the previous conversation never happened. He quickly disappeared around the corner, heading straight for the kitchen.

Michaela stood alone in the hall, slowly bringing her hands to her cheeks. It started to check the damage, but she slowly found herself becoming flustered as she thought about his strange threat. What could he have considered? Biting? Clawing? Crushing with tentacles? The thought was, admittedly, exciting, and she had to stop herself from calling for Alastor to ask for clarification.

The last thing she needed a Sadist like him to learn was that she was, very contradictory to most of her Asexual nature, Masochistic and easily excited over such thoughts.

#Hazbin Hotel #Alastor x OC #I guess?#Do I count as my own OC?#Self Insert #Alastor #Hazbin Alastor #Angel Dust #Hazbin Angel Dust #Fanfic #If Vivzie happens to see this - I will not apologize for Art #The joys of having conflicting interests #If anyone needs to know - Of COURSE Fat Nuggets is fine #The oven was comfortably warm after use so Nugs decided under it would be a good nap spot #But he decided to come out when Angel called for him

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bbygrgu · 4 years

Text

fifty questions

Thank you for the tag @jalapenobarnes

1. What is the colour of your hairbrush? tan and black

2. Name a food you never ever eat. beans, easily. I also will not eat tripas o lengua. sorry.

3. Are you typically too warm or too cold? cold, but I'm always around the house barefoot and in shorts

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago? Raging over Modern Warfare bc I am trash but I love the “Drop Zone” mode

5. What is your favourite candy bar? Kit Kat’s. Easily. Next.

6. Have you ever been to a professional sports game? I’ve seen a Chicago Fire game if that counts.

7. What is the last thing you said out loud? “can you tell him to come take care of the Batman?”

8. What is your favourite ice cream? I love almost every flavor. Salted Caramel is a must but I LOVE Ben n Jerry’s Chunky Monkey

9. What was the last thing you had to drink? Iced Tea w/ Lemonade

10. Do you like your wallet? no, she’s getting worn

11. What was the last thing you ate? These Polish meat patties that my mom made. She made them with turkey meat bc we don’t really eat pork in my house

12. Did you buy any new clothes last weekend? no.

13. The last sporting event you watched? next.

14. What is your favorite flavor of popcorn? Give me anything buttery.

15. Who is the last person you sent a text message to? @jalapenobarnes, I said “dude, I don’t even know it’s still alive LMAO”

16. Ever go camping? NOPE, but I do enjoy hiking!

17. Do you take vitamins? Vitamin C.

18. Do you go to church every Sunday? Hell no. My religious beliefs , though I was raised Catholic, aren’t like that. I find church so boring, I would always daydream and come up with scenarios. I only go for my grandparent’s celebration of life mass. I don’t know what you call them.

19. Do you have a tan? No, I am pale n red

20. Do you prefer Chinese food over pizza? Fuck yes.

21. Do you drink your soda with a straw? When I drink soda, nope.

22. What color socks do you usually wear? I HAVE TONS OF CUTE SOCKS SO DEPENDS WHAT MOOD I’M IN AND IF I HAVE A FEELING THOSE BITCHES WILL DISAPPEAR IN THE LAUNDRY.

23. Do you ever drive above the speed limit? Yes. I hate going slow, lmao. But the moment you see a cop, you better slow tf down. If you see a camera or school zone, you better slow tf down. Illinois just wants everyone’s money.

24. What terrifies you? myself.

25. Look to your left, what do you see? My mom’s purse and her work backpack, clean scrubs next to that.

26. What chore do you hate most? washing dishes and mopping

27. What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? H2O (yes, I know that's in New Zealand but I can’t help my stupid brain)

28. What’s your favorite soda? Seagram’s Gingerale, Coke but it has to be the one from the glass bottle (hecho en Mexico), Sidral Mundel, Yoli’s, and thought it’s not soda, Peñafiel de Limón.

29. Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive? Drive.

30. What is your favourite number? 5. It’s my birth date and my number in water polo.

31. Who’s the last person you talked to? my best friend

32. Favourite cut of beef? I don’t know what you would call it in English, I think it’s short ribs? but costilla 🤤

33. Last song you listened to? are U gonna tell her by Tove Lo ft. Mc Zaac

34. Last book you read? UM, UM, I can’t remember but I am reading The Cactus by Sarah Haywood

35. Favourite day of the week? Fridays for sure

36. Can you say the alphabet backwards? I still gotta sing the damn song

37. How do you like your coffee? Iced, with coconut milk

38. Favourite pair of shoes? My new Kaptir X Shoes (Adidas) and my NMD_R1 Star Wars (the Rey ones) which are also Adidas

39. The time you normally get up? 6am or 7am on the weekdays, 6am on Sundays and Saturdays around 9-10

40. What do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? SUNSETS. I used to love sunrises in high school

41. How many blankets on your bed? Two comforters and a weighted blanket

42. Describe your kitchen plates. Plain white or black with a rim that pops up.

43. Describe your kitchen at the moment? she cute.

44. Do you have a favourite alcoholic drink? I just turned twenty on and I wasn’t very social in high school plus I commute to uni. I love Four Lokos (Fruit Punch), Tequila, Svedka. I love Mango Margaritas. I hate beer, but you give me a good ass Michelada, you’ve got my love.

45. Do you play cards? no.

46. What colour is your car? red

47. Can you change a tire? no, I rely on my Mexican father and all his connections way too much.

48. Your favourite state? El Estado de Mexico y Michoacan. I hate it here in states. The only thing I like about Illinois is the national parks tbh. Oh, I COMPLETELY FORGOT I TRAVELED. I know it’s not a state, but Washington D.C was beautiful when I went around this time, four years ago. The cherry blossoms made the entire trip worth it.

49. Favourite job you’ve had? lmao

50. How did you get your biggest scar? I was like 12 n stupid. I was riding my brother’s small ass bike (he’s five years younger than me). I was on the street and I was riding the bike while standing up and I accidentally leaned forward and fucking flipped forward. My knee has a scar (even tho I think everyone’s knees are scar-ed up) and my left pink toe is a lighter shade lMAO

Tagging, no pressure: @rogueobservation, @stargazingcarol, @jewelswrites-ish,

#about me

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moonythejedi394 · 5 years

Note

Prohibition: Steve cleaning around the house and Bucky just watching from the shadows, admiring his omega to be. Steve's bare neck peeking out of his collar, how good he looks on his hands and knees as he scrubs the floor. Steve's dainty feet. Plotting spoiling him rotten.

nonnie, you have hit the nail on the head as to why I wanted to write that fic in the first place

exactly like you said. Steve has a nice little maid’s outfit; like this, but sluttier

the dress is way shorter, only comes to about a quarter-length down his thighs. his pantyhose are clear with a nice line up the back, clipped to a garter skirt, and every time he bends over, bucky can see the tops of his stockings, the edge of his garter skirt sticking out, just barely covering his pretty little ass.

the fourth floor of the house is all the master suite; there’s the bathroom, the stairwell, and then the rest of it is bucky’s bedroom, lounge, and office, all in one room. the bedroom part is sectioned off with wooden dividers, that’s the east end, the west end is the bathroom and stairwell, between it’s the lounge and office. the lounge has a large marble fireplace, there’s two red leather smoking couches and a matching armchair, chair’s facing the fireplace. the doors to the bathroom are facing the rest of the room, and they’re french doors, paneled in glass, they get fingerprints all them all the time, so yannow, they gotta be cleaned on the regs.

bucky’s sitting on the sofa facing the bathroom, calmly working on a cuban cigar, while steve in his short dress and white apron cleans all the little panes of glass in those french doors. steve starts with the tops of the doors, he goes left to right, gets both doors, works his way down. when he gets to the bottom, he bends over, goes slow as he keeps cleaning the glass. teases bucky with the tops of his stockings, first the black lace band with the line tracing down steve’s legs, then the garter clips, slowly going farther up his legs. steve gets down to the very bottom of the doors and he kneels down, but he still leans forward so his dress will ride up more, so bucky can see more.

bucky smiles as steve sticks his ass out for him even more. steve throws a look over his shoulder, his big blue eyes just pleading with bucky to say it’s enough, that he’s earned his reward, his compensation for the night. that’s their game, it’s their cover; steve is bucky’s houseboy. but in that moment, steve’s polishing windows not for his paycheck, but bc he must earn his daddy’s cock.

when the glass french doors are finished, steve gets up and turns to face bucky, takes a few slow steps towards him. bucky takes his cigar out of his mouth, holds it out, then taps it, dusting ash onto the elegant rug spread out between the sofas and armchair, all while making eye contact with steve.

“clean that up,” bucky says softly.

steve walks up, gets a delicate brush and dustpan, kneels down on the carpet and carefully sweeps up the ash. bucky looks down at him, he smiles and tucks his cigar back between his teeth. steve looks up just as bucky’s looking down at him and steve visibly gulps. bucky sticks his shoe out, sticks it between steve’s knees and under the hem of his skirt, and he lifts it up to look under it.

“you don’t mind, do you, doll?” bucky asks smugly around his cigar. “no, sir,” steve answers. bucky smiles some more and lifts up steve’s skirt with his shoe enough to see his garter belt and bloomers under it. his shorts are creamy-beige satin with black lace, his garter belt sits neatly at his waist with the top of his shorts, the maid’s dress has a high-waist as well, right at his natural waistline. looking at him, bucky whistles. steve blushes.

bucky then lets steve’s dress fall, lowering his foot back to the floor. “why don’t you wipe off that sofa?” he suggests, gesturing to the couch opposite him, “think we spilled somethin’ on it t’other day, ‘s got a nice white splotch right in the middle’a the center cushion.”

yes, that white splotch is a cum stain. steve pushes up from the carpet and returns to his little cleaning kit, taking out some leather cleaner and a sponge, and he kneels again on the rug, facing away from bucky this time. he starts dabbing at the stain, cleaning the stain carefully and slower than necessary. he glances over his shoulder every few seconds, bites his lip, shifts his knees and spreads them wider and wider each time. bucky just continues to work on his cigar, watching him.

eventually, steve finishes cleaning the sofa, he gets up and puts away the soap and sponge. he returns to standing in front of bucky, hands folded behind him. “is there anything else i can do for you, mr. barnes?” he asks, bouncing eagerly on his toes; he’s wearing a pair of really nice, hand-made leather penny-loafers, well treated, well worn, very comfortable. bucky looks him up and down, a hand on his knee and a hand on his cigar. slowly, he nods. lifts the hand from his knee and beckons to steve. “one last thing,” he says, “sit on daddy’s knee, sweetheart.”

steve breaks into a grin. see, there’s a firm distinction between mr. barnes and daddy. an order or request from mr. barnes is an order for a domestic task; cleaning, cooking, etc. an order or request from daddy, well, now steve’s mouth is watering.

steve takes off his rubber gloves, drops them into his supply caddy, and puts a hand on bucky’s shoulder. lifts one knee, puts it on the sofa by bucky’s hip, puts his weight on it. lifts the other, puts it down, and straddles bucky’s lap, slowly sits down on bucky’s knees. bucky doesn’t touch him yet, he takes his cigar from his mouth, passes it to his left hand and puts it in an ashtray on a sidetable next to them. then he lifts both hands and folds them, tucking them behind his head, still looking steve up and down slowly. “be a good boy, give daddy something pretty to look at.”

so steve slowly reaches behind himself, all while maintaining eye contact, and he slips loose the apron strings. he takes that off and drops it aside, then reaches for the buttons of his little maid’s dress, conveniently at the front of the dress. he slips the first one, then the second, moving deliberately and teasingly, just how bucky likes it. unbuttons his dress completely, then shrugs it off and lays it aside, leaving him in his stockings and garter and a satin set of cami-bloomers; looks like a romper, was a popular choice for flappers in the 20s. the cami part has thin straps and a light v-neckline, trimmed in gorgeous black lace. neatly framed by his drawers, his hard little cock is completely visible through the thin fabric. there’s a nice little wet spot, too.

“gorgeous,” bucky murmurs, “lovely little boy, daddy’s hard because of you, babydoll. what’re you gonna do about that, baby?”

steve leans forward, pushing his arms over bucky’s shoulders, and puts his chest right in bucky’s face, looking down at him and biting his lip. “i’ll do whatever you want, daddy,” he says, “i’d love it if you put it in me.” “yeah, i know you would,” bucky chuckles, “you’d do anything for a good dick, right?” “yes, sir, anything.” “c’mere,” bucky says, finally putting his hands on steve. they kiss and bucky pushes his hands into steve’s drawers, grabbing his ass, palming it and squeezing, fondling. steve moans into bucky’s mouth, presses his body against bucky’s torso.

it dissolves into sex; bucky helps steve out of his garter belt and drawers, takes his dick out and puts on a condom, steve grinds on it for a while until finally, bucky gets his dick in steve. they fuck sitting right there, bucky holds steve against his chest and drills into him; steve is always limp and pliable when bucky’s fucking him, and bucky loves that, loves to hold him tight and hear his gasps and whimpers and whines.

now, steve doesn’t wear that maid’s dress every day, most of the time he’s in slacks and suspenders, it’s more comfortable for him and bucky doesn’t really care what steve’s wearing as long as he’s serving. even though he’s not wearing that cute little maid’s outfit every day? him and bucky have the same routine every night. “is there anything else i can do for you, mr. barnes?” “yeah, come sit on daddy’s lap.”

#Anonymous #ask #don't smoke kids #prohibition fic #alpha!bucky #alpha/omega/betaverse #omega!steve #stucky #roaring 20s #mafia au #hitman!bucky #nurse!steve #drag-queen!steve #pre serum steve #steve rogers #bucky barnes

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writingwitchly · 5 years

Text

A matter of… toe?

Can I ask for a oneshot with Sirius with the convo: B: You got a new lip balm? A: Yeah. It smells like strawberries too! Want to smell? B: Sure! *walks closer to kiss her/him* A: *just as B is few inches away* *pulls out the balm in front, making it cover B's nose* Please!! Love you😘 ~ @miss-nerd0905

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader

Word count: 4,1k

AU: Where the biggest concern sare late Xmas shopping and love. So no war, but still wizards.

A/N: I will not rant about my writing bc it’s Xmas… Vase Darling, I hope you like it!! I wanted this to be vv Christmassy for you!! tbh, I didn’t fully stick to the prompt (this might be veryyy different from what you expected), but the lip balm’s there lol. Have a jolly holiday!

***

Like every December 23rd, you type Lily’s number on the phone, and hum a jolly tune as the dial tone echoes in your ear.

Ever since you’ve moved on your own in London, going late Christmas shopping with your best friend has become a tradition. Together, you go from shop to shop, searching even the most unknown and hidden ones, to get the most perfect gifts for your friends. And, modestly, you nail every single one, to the point where everyone in your circle of Christmas guests call you the “jingle bell rocking team.”

You let your eyes wander on the gray sky outside through the window, and make a mental note of bringing your scarf along, right as a click announces that someone has picked up the call.

“Hello?”

You were going to scream at your friend in excitement to hurry up, but something in the voice that answered makes it… not hers. It’s deep and raucous.

“Lily?”

A crack, then a pause. Some air faintly blows in the mike, and you perceive that the phone must be moving.

“Y/N?” Now, you do recognize Lily’s voice. Although it still sounds off. And nasal.

“Lily!”

“Y/N…” A cough echoes in the background, so the owner of the other voice must still be in proximity.

“Um… Are you okay?” You risk the stupid question, dreading the obvious answer.

“Well,” She tries to laugh, but her lungs seem to resist the act. “Not really. I… James managed to pass me his flu, this year. But don’t worry, I’ll wear some additional coat and we’ll still go, I’ll be there in-”

Her boyfriend protests in the back, but is stopped by another wave of coughing.

An “oh” escapes your throat, longer than you wanted it. “It wouldn’t be wise to go shopping, if you’re in that state, Lils.” For a moment, she seems to hesitate, so you add, “We want to have you guys whole and in perfect shape for the Christmas Eve party.”

You hope your regret isn’t too evident in your tone.

“James wants to make it alive until then, he’s planned a little fly dressed all in red and whi-”

The raucous voice resounds in the background, clearly irritated, and Lily laughs again, “Seems like I’ve ruined the surprise. Don’t tell anyone,” She giggles again. “Um- Sorry to leave you alone on that.”

“Uh?” Imagining James flying, dressed as Santa Claus, has made you forget anything else for a couple of seconds. “Oh, you mean the shopping. Don’t worry,” You’re not sure the last two words sounded very convincing, but you still continue, “I’ll ask someone else to come. Maybe Dorcas.”

“Er- Her and Mary have choir rehearsal for the fundraising,” Lily reminds you.

The sky outside seems to become a little darker.

“Shoot. Remus then.”

“You know that today-”

“He works until late. And Marlene’s at her family’s until tomorrow.” You bite your lip, “Peter?”

“Is it grocery shopping you plan to do?”

Peter and his love for Christmas sweets… He’d stop you at every corner to get a new type of candy.

“Kingsley?”

But you erase that possibility on your own: he isn’t one to walk the whole day around looking for funny socks or the perfect make up set.

You sight in exasperation. This is why it’s always Lily and you who take care of the holiday shopping.

Half as a joke, half out of desperation, you suggest, “Dumbledore?”

There is a loud snort -- which sounded more like a snore -- surely from James, and then Lily mutters something that you can’t hear.

“Lily?”

Shuffling in the background.

“I- James says- He says that you should probably ask Sirius to come.”

“Sirius?” you repeat, not convinced to have heard right. You hope you haven’t.

You’re not 100% sure, but you heard James repeat his mate’s name at the same time as you, and in the exact same surprised tone.

After a second, the man’s laughter is muffled by Lily’s hand on the mike. She tells him something, and he answers back between two sneezes, but you can’t understand anything except for ‘-toe.’

“Toe?”

Lily’s voice comes back, “What?”

“Nothing,” you mutter, this time convinced that you have heard wrong. “So, you guys say, Sirius?”

No, no, no.

“Well, yeah. Usually, he can’t go because he takes care of James’ seasonal flu, but now I can do that…”

“Mmmm…”

“Call him, Y/N, he’s your last hope. I’ll manage to take care of my boyfriend and resist the urge to hex him.”

“Are you sure that Sirius is the right guy to give advice on Muggle shopping?”

And that I won’t make a fool of myself around him?

“I- Uh…” Lily stutters, and pauses a second to hear what James has to say. “Well, if you say so, Potter.” She focuses back on you, “James is positive about it, Y/N,” Which one? The shopping thing, or the fool thing? You’d like to be sure about the latter. “And- I left some soup on the stove, so- we don’t want the house burning down, do we. Gotta go!”

Is it you, or does her voice sound much healthier than before? “Wait, Lily-!”

“We’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

Before she hangs up, James’ voice reaches you, but very confusedly.

Again, did he say toe?

***

Getting Sirius to come shopping with you was easier than you thought. A call, and he apparated on the front step before you had a chance to put your boots on. Even keeping your composure in his presence is revealing itself quite easy, despite the fact that you’re alone with him for the first occasion in a very long time.

The tough stuff is making him follow you through Muggle London without losing him in the crowd.

“What about that?” you ask, eyeing a novel with a bright blue cover. It reads ‘In Love With an Idiot’, and Lily would absolutely wheeze only at the title. “Do you think that James would be offe- Sirius?” You shoot a glance behind your shoulder, only to discover that the man has disappeared again. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake.”

Struggling to hold the multiple packs under your arms, you move to the side of the pedestrian street, and climb on a bench, under the glare of an old lady. Feeling dizzy because of the bright passing scarves and hats, you lose one good minute in finding the mane of black locks that towers above the surrounding passerbys.

Completely obvious of the world around him, the boy’s observing the vitrine of a toy shop, whose sign’s colorful light reflects on his recently shaved cheeks.

“Sirius!” Your cry of frustration scares the glaring old lady away, but at least it’s successful in making your friend come back to reality.

Smirking, Sirius makes his way back to you, pushing people aside with the dozens of bags he carries, and attracting himself many dark looks.

“Afraid I’d leave you, Y/N?”

“No,” you sigh, wondering at what age Sirius has stopped growing up mentally, “Afraid to lose half of the gifts. What were you looking at?”

“Crazy how the Muggles manage to make things move without magic. There was a small train riding on its own!” His grin widens, and you have to tilt your head up to have a good sight of his childish expression.

Godric, he’s so tall. And so handsome.

Shut up, Y/N.

“But it looked quite unrealistic,” he continues, unaware of your internal dialogue, “There was no smoke.”

“It’s normal,” you say, “It works with batteries, a clever way of producing energy without-”

But Sirius craning his neck in direction of another shop stops you mid-sentence. It won’t be long until he goes off your sight again.

Merlin, he’s worse than Peter.

“No, Black, no such thing again. We’re almost done, I don’t plan on spending the night here.”

To prevent him from going away again, and prevent the lost of the dozen of bags he carries, you link an arm with his. And immediately feel your cheeks lighting up.

Thankfully, he looks away. And you badly hope it’s not because he saw you blushing.

“Nice weather,” he mutters, right as you say, “It’s freezing cold.”

Had it happened earlier, you would have laughed and argued, but now a strange tension seems to have fallen on the two of you.

“So er- those… baggeries,” he says hesitantly. “Do Muggles use them only for tiny trains or-”

You smile shyly, relieved by his clumsy attempt at building a conversation, but suddenly find yourself unable to explain anything about bagge- batteries. So you just correct his pronunciation and laugh the question away.

Something in the way Sirius looks and behaves has changed since your Hogwarts years. He is much more mature, and much less of a troublemaker. He hasn’t lost his mischievous sparkle, of course -- not even after death will he --, but he uses it more consciously.

The last time you two have been alone together before today was… three years and a half ago?

During the graduation party, you had found yourself sitting alongside the dance floor, immersed in nostalgic flashes of your school years, when Sirius had come to ask you for a dance. He saw it as only another moment of fun, but something clicked in your head when he grabbed you by the waist.

You saw memories of how you had started liking him in first year, how his sarcastic remarks were actually something you looked forward to get angry at everyday, how his lousy humor and deep sense of loyalty were his most attracting traits, how his hair falling on his eyes made you daydream.

You also saw the fact that you were about to step in the adults’ world, and maybe part ways.

So, drunk in melancholy and honeywine, you were about to tell him what you had hid for seven years in a row.

But, right at that moment, a group of girls passed by, eyeing him shamelessly and giggling like three-years-olds. It was already hard to swallow the fact that you were infatuated with the most popular guy in a range of ten kilometers, but when he asked you, in the middle of the song, if you’d mind if he invited one of them to dance, you lost your breath.

“Of course not,” you answered, surprising yourself at how easy the lie had come out of your mouth.

He had paused, looked at you for a second, and left you alone in the middle of the room to join the group of girls.

At that moment, lost in your feelings, you had seen through his: you were nothing more than a friend to him.

Some heavy darkness had engulfed you, and that had been the last time you’d accepted to be alone with him. Until today.

You have spent three years muffling your heart’s complaints under tons of good will, in the name of your friendship, and in respect for his opinion.

Caught in the worry of not being able to buy your friends their gifts, you did not think twice about it, earlier, but now…

It seems dangerous to walk next to him.

Around you, the street is getting busier of other people who, like you, have opted for a last-minute gift-search. Fake Santas shake their bells, making teens giggle, and women with babies look in adoration at them. A couple of parents hold their children by the hand, dragging them toward a house shop, while the kids clearly feel like stopping in front of a cozy bar. There is a Frank Sinatra song playing somewhere near the place at the end of the way, and the crispy notes of his deep voice fill every corner of the jolly atmosphere.

A draught of winter air caresses your face, making you shiver.

“About time to go, don’t you think?” you suggests, tightening the scarf around your neck.

“Well- De we have everything we need?” Sirius hesitates, so you start recounting the bags,

“We’ve got Marlene’s sweater, Alice’s scented candles, Kingsley’s sock set-”

“A complete,” Sirius interrupts you “collection of Queen’s best hits for James - that sucker better repay me later, this costed like one of my eyes - a maxi sized pot of skittles for Dumbledore, a horrible pair of socks for Frank, and some catnip for Minnie. Remus’-”

“Catnip?” you raise an eyebrow. “Oh please, don’t tell me you’ve-”

“No, I haven’t left the tea behind, we have that too. I just thought it’d be nice to add some catnip,” he finishes, with a big grin stamped across his face, and you roll your eyes.

“I checked everything on the list that Lily and I have made, so we have everything. I think we can stop.”

“Are you sure?” Sirius asks, and you think you discern some deception in his words. Is it really possible that-

But your running imagination must be tricking you.

“Quite sure, I-” You slap a hand on your forehead, attracting a curious look from a seven-years-old passing by. “I was forgetting, as always!” you claim, “We’re not done yet.”

Sirius eyes you, and you see a reflection of the little boy’s expression on his face. And maybe a brighter twinkle in his stare.

“We were forgetting about our own gifts,” you explain, to which he breaks into a snort.

“What’s the plan, then? We choose our gift, and we’ll act as if it’s a surprise on Eve’s dinner?” he asks.

You shake your head. “You choose something for me, I’ll pick something for you. No right to show the other, so-” You realize what you’re going to say, and regret it a bit. “So- It’s better if we part ways now, anyway. I have- I have to meet Mary and Dorcas for a trip to the library,” you say, raising your stare from the floor to look at him straight in the eyes.

Sirius’ lips purse in a thin line, and he nods in understanding.

You slow your pace down, and come to a halt. After a second of uncomfortable pause, you unlink your arm from his, and, for a moment, you face each other, unsure of how to say goodbye.

“See you tomorrow, then,” Sirius half-heartedly says.

“Yeah,” you respond.

The crazy thought of a hug crosses your mind, but you turn on your heels before giving in to the temptation.

You’re already a good fifteen meters away, when his voice flies to you, “It was a nice shopping session, Y/N! Thank you!”

You swing around, and smile before the crowd swallows him.

***

“You tricked me.”

Zipping her golden top, Lily doesn’t deign you of a look. “I don’t see what you’re talking about, darling.”

“Spare me your terrible lying capacity, Lily. Just- Let’s set aside the fact that you’ve broken our tradition, and that I felt treasoned, but-” You run a hand on your face, looking for proper words to make you sound less lame than what you are. “You know that it’s hard for me to be in the same room as him, and you made it more awkward by setting this up.”

“I didn’t s-”

“Oh come on!” you cry, frustrated. “He was ready when I called! And you do sound like you healed very quickly.”

The decorations on the walls and the snow falling outside make Lily and James’ living room look like a gigantic snowball.

“I- Ok, I’m not as sick as I was yesterday morning, but… I th-”

“You have no right to play the matchmaker, Lily... You know very well how much I struggled to make the pain go away!”

“The both of your are so much more mature recently.”

“So? I can’t make him fancy me, if he doesn’t want to! No matter if he gets as mature as Remus.”

“You’re so stubborn, Y/N! If you don’t try, you’ll never get anything!”

From the doorframe, James chuckles, “Take me as an example: I managed to date my fierce redhead after seven years of-”

“James!” you both scream, and the man raises his hands in defence, going back to drinking his medicinal tea. He can barely stand up, wrapped in the tons of coverts that are supposed to protect his fragile health from yet another cold, but he wouldn’t miss your discussion if he got paid for it: you get better than his favorite telenovellas, when you’re in that mood.

“If you ever tell him any of this-” you look at him, menacing.

With his mouth full of the infusion, James mimics somebody promising, and then walks out of the room, in look of a more peaceful environment. He does that every time he senses the storm going toward him.

“All I want is you to be happy, Y/N. I swear you need to be blind not to notice that Sirius likes you.”

“I’m- Please, don’t make it harder, Lily. I appreciate your encouragements, but I worked hard on making these feelings disappear, and-”

“We both know you still like him, Y/N. How many times will I have to tell you.” She rolls her eyes. “I am going to get you two together before this New Year, or I’ll rename myself Gertrudis. And you can’t change my mind.”

With nothing to answer to that, you sigh, only waiting for the moment when you’ll get to call your best friend Gertrudis.

***

“Nothing better than a sweet gathering with friends for Christmas,” Remus says as he pops the bottle of honeywine open. Behind him, the fire cracks in the chimney.

From across the living room, Frank, his arm around Alice’s shoulders, laughs, “You say that every year, Rems.”

Kingsley comes in the scarred boy’s defence, “It’s worth repeating, Longbottom. Anyway, I’d rather hear Remus say it a thousand more times than to have to listen to James’ drunk jokes at the end of the meal.”

The mentioned boy fakes a pout, and Sirius, who’s lying on the floor at his feet, plays with a red cap, that will be useless this year: Flying Santa Potter Show has been moved to next year, because of ‘health issues’, to Peter’s great regret.

“I wonder how you’re still sneezing enough to make that whole building fall down, James, while Lily’s wearing a mini skirt.” The bitterness in your voice can only be understood by James, and by his girlfriend. “From how she sounded on the phone yesterday, she was about to die.”

At those words, Lily gets out of the kitchen, followed by Dorcas, and shoots you a smile, “Onion soup does miracles on me,” she winks, and turns toward the man spread on the carpet, “Sirius, please be a sweetheart, and give Y/N a hand to bring the rest of the starters on the table.”

And here we go again.

Noticing your annoyed groan, Marlene slightly smiles.

“I hope the floor’s clean,” she murmurs to Lily, “Because I have that feeling that we’ll have to pick the starters up from the tiles. What did you do to piss her off?”

“Just wait,” the redhead whispers back, “And you’ll see.”

***

In the background, Celestina Warbeck threatens to drown you all in a cauldron full of hot love.

Sirius is handing you some plastic plates, on which you lay tiny canapes. The only reason that prevents you from dropping them on the floor in vengeance is their very appetizing look. And the fact that you’ve spent hours dressing them.

The soft buzzing of conversation coming from the living room warms your heart: having friends like yours is the highlight of your life. Ruining the mood by confronting romantical feelings to just friendship would be… awfully wrong.

“Any plans for New Year’s Eve, Y/N?”

“Uh?”

Sirius smiles at you from the other side of the table, a plate full of mini croissants in each hand. “Do you have plans for New Year’s Eve?”

You tilt your head. “Just- our usual gathering. Why?”

The man shrugs. “Maybe you wanted to do something different, I don’t know.” And he grins again. “You tell me, if you want some change, okay?”

“Sure.”

Perplex because of his strange request, you come back in the core room of the party a little distracted, sensing that something is weird.

You scan your friends’ faces, but don’t notice anything out of place, so give up your strange presentment.

***

Soon, it’s time to unwrap.

As everyone discovers their gifts -- and shares drunk jokes, much to Kingsley’s dismay -- you step in a corner, holding a pink package in the palm of your hand. The ribbon itself is bigger than the box.

“What is it?” Sirius’ sudden presence behind your back makes you start.

“What do you mean, what is it?” From the corner of your eye, you notice Lily staring at you, and then whispering something in James’ ear. “Didn’t you buy it?”

The man scratches his neck. “I’m not the best at choosing Muggle gifts, let along for a girl. So I asked the salesgirl to give me the cutest item she had and-” He points to the half-unwrapped box in your hands. “I’m about to discover what it is at the same time as you.”

His breath on your neck makes your fingers tremble, but you rip the remnants of colorful paper off the present, and reveal a-

“Lip balm?” you ask, surprised.

Sirius only nods, with half a smile. “Looks like it.”

Carefully, you extract the round container from the wrapping, grinning at how cute it is, indeed. You delicately brush a finger on the surface, and press it to your lips.

“Mmm… It smells like strawberries!”

“Really?” Sirius casually steps closer to you.

“Uh- Want to smell?” you ask, trying to remain composed.

“Sure!”

You were about to pass him the container. You were about to.

But, under your unbelieving stare, Sirius leans forward, until he’s only inches apart from your mouth, and closes his eyes.

A little lamp lights up in your head: that something that was wrong when you exited the kitchen, James’ repeated mention of a ‘toe’ during yesterday’s call… Right above your head, you see it.

It happens all so fast, that you can barely register your own movements.

***

“You what?”

Lily, shivering in her skirt, is gaping at you. She ran after you as soon as you left the apartment in a hurry, and managed to catch you right as you were exiting the building.

“I panicked” You cry, still shocked yourself, and starting to feel like the dumbest person ever, ever, ever.

Your best friend blinks very slowly. “You- Are you doing this to make me lose the bet? Because that’s the only explanation I will accept, Y/N!”

The scene repeats itself endlessly in your mind as the snowflakes sprinkle your hair. Sirius, centimeters away from your lips. The balm suddenly put in front of him, covering his nose. His surprised look. Your run away.

“I don’t know, I-”

“You don’t know?” Her eyes clearly say ‘I’m about to kill you if you don’t give me a good reason for leaving the perfect romantical scene out of the blue’.

“Listen! If I wasn’t sure that he now thinks I’m the most idiotic fool in this world, I’d run back upstairs and kiss him right where I left him!” you scream.

You hope that none of the neighbors had planned to go to bed early.

“Glad you would-” A voice comes from an open window, three floors above. A pair of large glasses is looking down at you, surrounded by all your friend’s faces.

“James! Fucking get inside, don’t make your flu even worse!” shouts Lily.

“- because,” her boyfriend ignores her, “I doubt he’d be happy to have ran down the stairs for nothing!”

Right as he finishes his sentence, the building’s door opens, and lets out a very confused Sirius. Quickly, Lily disappears inside.

The world stops spinning, and you lose the capacity to breathe. Your knees threaten to give up under the weight of the tension that installs itself on your shoulders.

Merlin, if I could die right on the spot.

“I’m sorry if I-” Sirius takes a step forward, but stops right away, and lowers his head. “It was stupid of me, I’m very sorry.”

Seemingly unable to distinguish between what happens in your head, and what you’re actually doing in this moment, you walk toward him.

“What do you mean, you’re sorry?” The temperature of your cheeks climbs up vertiginously, and it costs you an incredible effort to articulate. “I’m the one who ran away.”

And you’re standing in front of him, close enough to see the grey of his eyes reflecting the streetlamp light.

“I like you a lot, you know.” His soft whisper knocks the air out of you. “I think I’ve liked you since Hogwarts, but I was too busy being a jerk to notice it.”

Before the moment has a chance to vanish, like a dream, you reach for his lips with yours, standing on your tiptoes.

As Sirius wraps his arms around your waist and deepens the kiss, you can hear the dance of the snowflakes, chorusing with the beating of your hearts. Your breaths become the same mist, and your bodies tell the same story. The story of two young people in love.

Above your heads, a green branch has been fixed with some tape from a windowsill of the third floor, and is gently being hugged by the breeze.

“Look at those two,” Winter seems to whisper, “Finally kissing under the mistletoe.”

***

Permanent tag list: @miss-nerd0905 @funnymrspotter @daytodayfun @electraheart-isdead @laurenslines @rochelle-the-ravenclaw @wildfire-whizbangs @beaubcxton @reggieblck

Sirius tag list: @glitteryfreakslimeegg @janhvi11

#sirius blacksirius x reader #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black x reader #hp fic #reader insert #marauders #***writingr #VAN. THIS IS ALSO A LIL FOR YOU... THE MISTLETOE MOST OF ALL #can y'all believe i'm even posting this mess #scheduled #kill me bc of that title

109 notes · View notes

uldren-sov · 6 years

Text

normal

Anyways I’ve had this for a while and just cleaned it up a bit to finally post bc why not be a bit self-indulgent

and bc I have a lot of ideas and feelings as to how the transition from professional acquaintances to partners came about. so just an idea about what happens

Karo Caya is @damarlegacy ‘s and thanks as always for letting me use him <3 Elora is mine

A droid darted back and forth between counterspaces, furiously cleaning amidst two other figures in a sleek Kaasian penthouse. Elora perched atop her kitchen counter, hiding a smile behind her fist, as she watched Karo furtively. He stood next to her, holding a plate, setting his fork down, and working through what was in his mouth with a fair amount of difficulty.

“So, what do you think?” She said, wiping away the smile as she crossed her arms, putting on her best neutral expression; she didn't want to give anything away even in the face of his grimace.

“Fine,” he managed with a clear of his throat. When he made cooking seem like it was the simplest life skill to learn, she obviously had to try. She had … mixed results with the fruits of her labor. Even though it was apparently “only” pasta. He looked pained for a second and it took all she had to keep a straight face.

Oh, he does like me, doesn’t he?

“Do you want to have the rest, then?” She motioned with her chin to the plate he held. There was an immediacy to the silence that hung between them. She dared him with a stare to do it, or to lie to her.

Another beat and then he unceremoniously tossed the whole plate in the sink.

She couldn't stop from bursting out laughing at that. Folding at the waist she almost had trouble breathing as she laughed and felt hands on her shoulders. Karo pulled her up with a half cocked smile in the face of her laughter as she reached up to wipe a tear from her eye.

“Do me a favor,” he started gravely, smile evaporating, “and never do that again.” And she had to laugh all over again, using his shoulder as a support. She's never failed quite as spectacularly as this before but she's also never felt quite as good about it before either. It was strange, normally failure of any kind was untenable, she didn't quite know what to make of it.

“You're so terribly mean to me,” she finally managed as she wiped her eyes anew. Her laughter tapered off and was met with an affectionately narrowed look.

“Well what you had me eat was pretty damn cruel and unusual punishment for somethin’ that I sure as hell ain't done,” he started and she quickly kissed him.

“Shut up,” she groused. He caught her chin and kissed her properly until she got her hands on his chest and pulled him closer by his black, collared, shirt.

“Hey. C'mon. Let's go,” he said suddenly and pulled back. He pulled her down to her feet with the lingering grip he still had on her waist.

“Where are we going?” She said as she finally let go of his shirt and straightened it out.

“This was a bust-”

“Hey!”

“- and I'm not dealing with another day of shitty takeout in this city. Not for a while. So I'm stealing you. Get dressed,” he said as he tucked a hand in his dark denim pant’s pocket. The initiative was - given their positions - not taken often by him. So this idea? Count her intrigued.

“Kind of my kidnapper to tell me their intentions of such. Dare I ask where to?” She played along with a barely subdued smirk.

“Nar Shaddaa. Quicker we get there the better.”

“Does this mean I get to finally see your ship?”

A pause where they regarded each other once more - something was left unsaid, some line was about to be crossed, perhaps even a small leap of faith taken - before he shrugged a shoulder.

“Sure. Now c’mon,” he said as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Where does the name Andora come from anyway?” She said over her shoulder as she swept by him and towards her bedroom.

“A woman,” was the only thing he answered with. Cagey as always when it came to things that weren't in his file.

“She must be special,” she called from her bedroom simply. As much as she wanted to find out more about him, as was her nature, she had to hold herself back. She respected the man, even happened to like him, and personal secrets like that had could be respected … so long as they didn't affect her or their work.

Nar Shaddaa was it? She found something in the back of her closet from what felt like a previous life and put it on. She watched him look her over from top to toe when she returned and despite the fair amount of appreciation she saw a furrow of his brow. Some confusion, maybe. Sith didn’t normally do “casual” and this was her best attempt at it.

“Spaceport?” She asked to snap him out of it. In these shoes she was eye level with him and wasn’t shy to lock eyes with him to show it. It also gave her an excuse to appreciate how the dark tattoos really brought out his baby-blues.

“Dock 18-I,” he answered, taking a step into her space. A little dare, a little way of testing her back. She stepped forward to with a decisive click of her heels on the polished, metallic, blaster-gray floor. Quick as she pleased she stole her hand into his pants pocket and pulled out a small, flimsy, card from it. She presented it between their faces though not before spying a quick lift of a smile on those damn perfect lips of his.

“I drive,” and with that she moved past him. A soft scoff from him followed after her.

“Sure. But with how you drive? At least we'll get there faster,” he said as he fell into step behind her.

“Do you have an issue with how I drive?” She asked playfully. She leaned against the back of the lift and he walked right up against her, holding her solidly by her hips to keep them flush.

“Nah. Happen to be a fan of how fast and hard you drive your ride,” he said. She squeezed her eyes closed and let her head fall back with a pained groan at his euphemism as he dragged his hands back and grabbed her ass. He leaned in to kiss her cheek, her jaw, her neck and she rolled her eyes.

“You could afford some tact and charm, you know.”

“Yeah, I absolutely can. Doesn't mean it's gonna happen.”

A desperate and messy yet comparatively chaste lift ride, a fast and aggressive speeder drive, and a thorough and appreciative look over the Andora and they were nearly set to leave Kaas City. For the number of years Karo had the ship, it was more than cared for. Minimal wear and tear even despite the decade or so that he's had it. There was a lot of attention to detail here and a lot of work to keep it this well maintained. Was he a bit of a mechanic too?

“Are you looking for something?” He asked, interrupting her inventory of the ship. She took it as a hint to stop; even if there was something else in the heavy weight of his stare.

“Yeah,” she mentioned offhandedly, “sturdy surfaces.” She looked over her shoulder and smirked his way. It was strange that she felt the need to have skirted whatever that was yet she couldn't deny enjoying the results of her tease as he showed her.

It must have at least been a day in travel but it was still a welcome feeling be there on the surface of the smuggler's moon. The bright neon, cheap gold plating, and even cheaper ostensity of the Promenade just all seemed to fit. The dyn of a thousand different voices, pounding music, and speeder traffic clashed in a medley altogether unique to Nar Shaddaa. They wound up walking maybe twenty minutes outside the Promenade, to some back alley, hole-in-the-wall, bar with takeout from some street cart.

“What even is in this?” Was the one question she gave.

“Don't worry it's good,” he answered smoothly. Too smoothly, but then that was probably on purpose. She hadn’t missed a step yet, maybe that was to see if she would now.

True to form he was right even if she hesitated at first; everything actually tasted fresh, complex, and delicious. The two sticks used as utensils took an embarrassing minute to get used to - once they got to sit at a table near the pool tables in the back - and for that minute his teasing was relentless but it quieted once some beers were bought for Karo by some Gamorrean at the far side of the bar.

“Worked a lot here, huh?” She said more rhetorically than not as an intense scan of the Gammorean from him turned into a quick, cocked, smile.

“Doesn't everyone at some point? C’mere let's play,” he said as he drew her up and led her over to the pool tables. She took his bottle as he went to get two pool cues and watched him curiously. While taking a swig of her beer - terrible, really but just in the first taste - he started to set up wordlessly. They both took another cursory glance around the place as a habit before she offered his bottle back to him.

“Trade you,” she said with a smile and did switch out his bottle for a pool cue he got for her. He gave a soft thanks and a smile as well which sent some warm fluttering through her chest that she quickly stamped down.

“Want to break?” He asked and she shrugged, more focused on quickly getting over that bit of affection than anything else. She didn't miss the way he gave her a double take as he lined up behind the cue ball and shot. The balls scattered with a solid crack and he was close to sinking the red striped one, but not quite. That 11 was nearly in the far pocket and as she surveyed the table she set her bottle down beside his.

“Need a hand?” He asked from behind her as his tattooed hand covered her free one. She hid a smile from him. He wasn't going to, was he? Oh, she hoped he was feeling it enough to do so. Though she caught him glance back to the bar he still sidled up behind her.

“Yeah, can you help?” She played it up a little, her tone turning coy. A quick look over to him and a grin when she felt his other hand settle on her hip to angle her right against him. She nearly lost it right there, a snicker escaping with a shake of her shoulders. He leaned in and she felt his face tuck into her hair for a moment.

“Well it starts with your stance-”

“Right, of course.”

“-then you gotta set up this shot and your next one, too. Most important thing,” he spoke low, right into her ear. That? Was nice. The feel of his fingers setting hers up on the table? Also nice. But as he led her to bend over and set up the cue he tried sneaking something else as she felt his grip over the curve of her hip but she quickly blew her bangs into his face. It got him to back off and chuckle low.

“Okay, okay. You do have to make sure you hit that sweet spot and follow through to really sink it into that hole,” he said without any sort of waver or hesitation. She snorted about as inelegantly as she ever had and hung her head.

“Stars, do you really have to be like this?” She straightened. He relented a little to lean back and look her dead in the eyes.

“I only use sex analogies when it comes to shit that's incredibly important,” he said in his most serious and most solemn tone. She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut, fighting a smile.

“Can we get back to you being incredibly cheesy-”

“Instructional.”

“-with this before I change my mind?” She arched an eyebrow and he took another quick look around before nodding.

“Game’s fun anyways, you should actually learn,” he stated and tucked her back into him. “I was being serious though. Look, line it up and if it stops soon enough you're set for the next shot. C'mon.” He let go of the hand she steepled to rest the end of the cue stick and the hand on her hip went to her other hand on the stick

“1, 2,” he counted it down but on three she corrected his angle just enough to angle the shot low on the ball to make sure it stopped or maybe even rolled back a little when it connected to the other ball. Which it did after the collision sent that 11 ball into the corner pocket. It only took that to have him pull back and lean his hip against the pool table as he crossed his arms. He settled a hard look her way.

“When were you going to share you knew how to play?” He asked with a wryness to his tone.

“Some time after your lesson?” She smiled lightly and walked around to set up her next shot. She paused then, letting her cue hang in her hands. “You wanted to teach me and I was enjoying your hands-on approach to your tutelage.” She offered as sincerely as she could. He just shook his head slightly before taking a sip from his beer and she lined up her next shot.

“When’d you learn?” He asked, already over it.

“Must have been close to a decade ago, now. It is as you said. Everyone works here at some point,” she rejoined and earned her a small smile.

“So what'd you do? Can't be a lot of work for a Sith here,” he said, now just watching her from his post, posed like a gargoyle at the corner of the table.

“Hunting SIS and assuring the POW trade,” she said frankly. She set up on her own this time and sunk another. “First real assignment out of Korriban.” She moved over to set up for her third shot by him as she leaned in to simply snatch a kiss from him. With a second thought she wondered just when this became second nature to do this, but as she pulled away she couldn't deny how natural this felt.

“Must have been a shock,” he said without missing a beat; even as his hand found her waist again.

“Culture shock? Of course, immeasurably so. Yet I needed to survive regardless,” she explained. He took another sip and took another look around the bar as his fingertips searched and found the skin of her hip. “I adapted quick.”

“So you were…”

“Around 20.”

“Explains a lot,” he said with a smirk.

“You?”

“Same as I what I'm doing now. Less money, shitty crew, started out on my own about then,” he went on casually.

“A young entrepreneur,” she said with a smile. She angled and covered his hand with hers to just take a sip from his bottle. He made no reaction to it as he gave an appraising frown, a thoughtful side-to-side of his head.

“Bored more like,” he admitted gruffly, a soft snort. “Didn't fit with a regular job, scratched some bad habit itches, and wanted to do something that I actually liked,” he explained cooly. He looked back to the pool table and just got more comfortable, separating his legs so she could just stand between them.

“And that got you rich,” she added and he broke a grin.

“Most important thing,” he narrowed his eyes. She didn't know what it was but it tasted like a lie. She knew it wasn't this whatever-this-was that he was lying about, but there was something in his eyes or expression that was him trying too hard.

He started to lean in before freezing and looking past her. She turned slightly and immediately looked for the Gamorrean. They were no longer there.

“Trouble?” She murmured.

“Looks that way,” he said and gently eased her aside. “Raincheck?” And with that he walked around the pool table and started directing the bartender to the back of the bar with an ease despite the upcoming violence. When he returned she was sitting on the lip of the table, legs crossed.

“You know, I have never understood that expression,” she mentioned idly as he pulled a blaster from his pant’s backside waistband.

“It's just something to say,” he explained as he checked over his pistol, loading it, and turning the safety off. “Pick this up some other time.”

“You really want to?” She piped up with suddenly. Nothing more than to throw him off and while she didn't think it had worked, he did stop to look her over with a heavier look than she expected.

But then the door burst open and the hale of blaster fire rained down upon them.

He was more accurate with his shots than she had given him credit for. And when the Gamorrean showed their face at the front she caught that the shot that ended their life struck right in the throat - the species weak point. Three others were similarly dispatched with a skilled ease before she had to get involved. Her hand to hand paired well with his shots; she distracted and disabled the thugs while he shot past her - killing them. Only using her lightsaber to deflect the lucky blaster fire, he seemed to be dispatching them without any else from her. It was very nearly fun once she realized just what he was capable of. It got the better of her. A one-two punch-shot and the last thug fell. But not before one pulled a knife and caught Karo in the shoulder. It wasn’t fun anymore. With a flick of her hand she nearly snapped the thugs head clean off.

No doubt he could shrug it off, he did and had handily before, yet with her insistence they returned to his ship. Dinner finished, yet still on the galley counter as they settled on a sofa on the main deck. She pulled back the bandage carefully and set it aside as she pulled her legs underneath her. He had instructed her on how to first just clean and bandage it. Since it was nearly on his back, he couldn't easily get to it. So she pulled out the curved, hook-like, needle and nearly metal wire. She handed both to him.

“I admit even if I was a little caught up in everything, I should have stopped this regardless,” she commented softly. Her jacket and his shirt were discarded near them, forgotten as they started this procedure.

“It was a stupid mistake. All it was,” he said easily, a small absolution from both of their missteps. Without missing a beat he cut a piece of the wire, thread it through the offered needle, tied it off, and handed it to her. She closed her fingertips around the needle and lightning sprang forth, crackling along the needle white hot. It glowed slightly once it was done.

“You know there's probably a lighter around here,” he said dryly, watching over her shoulder. “You could use that instead.”

“I like my way better.”

“ ‘Course you do.”

“Do you want to be doing this as I'm about to stitch you up?” And a low rumbling chuckle under his breath was his only reply to her question.

She couldn't remember the last time she was so careful. With anything. By the time she was done it … seemed all right? She couldn't say much. But when she fetched a mirror and showed it, well, he was hard to read at any time but he seemed to sincerely approve. She set the needle aside and tied it off before putting a fresh bandage over it.

“Thanks,” he spoke low. It was late and with the last vestiges of the fight done a calm and stillness settled. No patter of rain, no hum of the engine, no dyn of a million voices outside; just them, at the end of a long day.

As he turned to her she rested on her side on the back of the sofa, allowing him to take her legs and pull them into his lap. She tucked her hand into her hair and rested her head against her arm.

“You are most welcome,” she replied in kind. The quiet moments stretched on around them. He rested back, avoiding that shoulder, as he seemed to subconsciously mimic her pose; the only addition was his thumb passing back and forth over her calf. She closed her eyes, savoring the remaining hum of aggression and violence yet feeling it drain off both of them was uniquely calming. If it didn't feel so nice she'd mark it as strange.

She opened her eyes to watch him, if only for a second. This was ... Unique, to have these moments, especially around another person. She didn’t want to damn the sentiment with thinking it was “special.” Yet it felt like the most natural thing she's ever done. And in all the while she's known him, he's never acted like this with anyone else.

That she saw.

Which was a huge factor, she had to admit. Though not that it mattered either. This alone was nice. It was enough.

Perhaps.

She opened her eyes to that sudden thought and went about stomping it down as she pulled her legs back slowly.

“Get some rest and heal,” she offered so softly she surprised herself. His eyes opened at that, like he witnessed her sentiment - or she was just jumping to conclusions. She had to stop coloring her interpretations with personal anecdotes. She leaned in to kiss him, to hide some tell she didn’t think she gave, but instead … found his cheek. She lingered slightly and felt his fingers dance along her arm, grip her there. The barest of stubble pricked her lips as she lingered, slow to kiss him, slower still to pull away.

But pull away she did, looked him over one more time, and then got off the couch. She made her way up the steep, narrow, stairway up to the bridge and more importantly, his room.

“Where are you going?” He said and his tone alone made her want to stay. But she meant what she said. She wanted him to heal quickly which meant not putting undue … stress on it. And no matter what they did there would invariably be stress upon it.

“To sleep. If you think I'm sleeping on some sofa, even yours, when there's a perfectly good bed available, you're woefully mistaken,” she said and he scoffed with an eventual smile. Maybe there was even a muttered “unbelievable” as she climbed the stairs.

“ ‘Night, Elora,” he called out. He already was getting comfortable and when she looked he made it a point to make a pillow out of his shirt cover himself with her jacket.

“Good night,” she said eventually, lingering for only a second to watch him before pulling herself away.

It was one thing to be in his ship and start to have some sort of personal knowledge of it, it was another to use his things, wear his clothes, sleep in his bed. Alone. Without him. She fell asleep surprisingly, or unsurprisingly, soundly. At least until she felt his weight shift the bed with a murmured “my tip is freezing off its so fucking cold.”

She laughed softly but after some back and forth about making sure his shoulder stayed safe, he would his arm around her.

“Still cold,” he whispered in her ear.

“Sure. But now I'm not,” and with that she got squeezed tightly, squeezing out a chuckle from her. “Oh, just give it a bit.”

A murmured warning and after a minute, nothing more. It was a bit of a return to normal, from whatever that quietness was. Yet “normal”, slowly, subtly, kept seeming to change.

#anyways working on this was my birthday present to me #my writing #other people's ocs #swtor oc #OC: Elora #Karo Caya #Employee Benefits

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neversatisfiedswitch · 6 years

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Wake Up

Author’s Note: Wow, that title is strange on its own, but hey! It’s a title! An improvement from my normal non-title things! :D So my beautiful OC Tarja has been on my mind. She’s wonderful and if you don’t know anything about her, please go look at my OC pages, under “Demons”. Anyway!

Another thing that was on my mind was my tickle headcanons post I did for a small chunk of my OCs, bc for Tarja’s description of what she’s like as a ler, I felt a demonstration of her methods was needed. :3

Summary: A normal day in the Quinn household, where big sister Tarja has to wake her little brothers.

Words: 1601

Emerald eyes fluttered open, catlike pupils dilating and contracting as they took in the room. A phone alarm blared next to her ear, and as quickly as she reached over to turn it off, she remembered why she’d set an alarm this early.

Gig in four hours. Right. What Tarja wouldn’t give to just call all of this off, just say that they’d do this tomorrow-- but a gig was a gig, and with her being the oldest in this house and the founder of the band, she couldn’t be that irresponsible.

Morning person she wasn’t, but it didn’t stop her from springing out of bed, pulling on a pair of shorts-- wear pants to bed? Unheard of-- and spraying water on her hair, in an attempt to coax the pink locks to cooperate with her hairbrush. The blue streak was fading-- she’d have to fix that soon, but not now.

Stepping out of her room, the rest of her morning routine became clockwork. It was simple, really-- before anything else could get done, her brothers had to be awake. If they weren’t, it just wouldn’t work. So she started by quietly entering Xan’s bedroom, just down the hall from her room, shutting the door just as quietly behind her.

The eldest Quinn brother had, as per the norm, fallen asleep the completely wrong way-- with his feet at the head of the bed and vice versa. Thankfully, this time he was on top of the covers rather than under them, and as per usual again, his headphones were over his ears, blasting soothing music. He could never sleep without something to listen to.

Tarja carefully removed his headphones, glad that he’d left his glasses on his bedside table-- he had a bad habit of leaving them on and falling asleep. She gently pried his fingers from his iPod to turn his music off, then sat down next to him, brushing long, blond locks from his face. A soft purr left his throat, and Tarja couldn’t help but chuckle-- Xan was always adorable when he was asleep.

“Xaaaan~...” She cooed, lightly shaking his shoulder. His eyelids fluttered, but he turned his head away, mumbling something incoherent. “Xan, you have to get up. Don’t tell me you forgot about our gig?”

His voice was low, as it always was in the morning, his words slurring a bit. “... Jus’ a few more minutes...” He yelped suddenly as Tarja shoved her hands under his arms, which were pillowing his head. Uncharacteristically shrill giggles escaped his lips as Tarja wiggled her fingers, wrapping one leg around one of his. “No can do, love. You’ve gotta get up.”

Really, this was so easy. A few teasing words and wiggling fingers in his armpits, and Xan would do anything she asked him to. She could have punished him for trying to ignore her, but cruel wasn’t a word used to describe Tarja. Stilling her fingers, she leaned down to press a kiss to Xan’s temple, giggling as he groaned. “Can you lift your arms? Kinda need these, y’know.” Swiftly poking his armpits to show her point earned her another yelp, and Xan quickly lifted his arms, lowering them just as fast.

Tarja stood, cheerfully smiling down at her brother once more before practically skipping out of the room. One down, three to go.

Nexx’s room was right across the hall from Xan’s. Unsurprisingly, his entire bed was empty, save for himself and two pillows-- one under his head, and one held to his chest. It made Tarja’s job so much easier, really-- considering the drummer was the quickest-moving one of the bunch, it was a cakewalk now.

Without a word, she leaped onto his bed, pinning him under her and drilling her thumbs into his hips. With a loud shriek, Nexx’s eyes shot open, and he immediately began laughing, hands clasping around Tarja’s wrists as he dissolved into a cackling mess. She was too good at this, knowing which spots were the worst for her brothers to handle and taking complete advantage of it when she needed them to cooperate with her.

“Nexx, you kicked your blankets off again...” Her only response was laughter, forest green eyes already filling with tears of mirth. Stopping her assault, Tarja moved to sit next to her middle brother, mussing up already-messy strawberry blond locks. “You... you already know... I do that every night...”

A gentle smile, followed by a kiss to the still-giggling boy’s forehead. “I know. I just thought I’d point it out so you don’t trip over ‘em.” Snorting, Nexx sat up to stretch as she exited his room. “Yeah, thanks... I’ll do my best not to.”

Vix was next, his room near the other end of the hall. He’d fallen asleep with a book across his chest, a small pile next to him. Thankfully he must have been reading with his phone and turned off the screen when he felt tired, because there were no lights on. Vix was the one she had to watch out for, because on occasion he could pretend he was asleep just to run out on her-- but the gentle rise and fall of the book on his chest confirmed for her that he was definitely asleep.

She carefully sat at the end of his bed, pulling the covers up until she found one of his feet. Wrapping one of her legs around his ankles to keep his foot in place, she gently ran one finger up and down the sole of his foot, earning some startled-sounding squeaky giggles. She giggled herself as she used both hands to lightly tickle around his toes, knowing he was definitely awake when his other foot pushed at her back.

“Vix, you know laughing this early in the morning might disrupt your voice~” Clearly there was nothing stopping her from “disrupting” his voice-- as soon as her fingertips wormed between his toes, he very nearly screamed with laughter, his free foot smacking more against the bed than her back as he tried his damnedest not to hit her too much. The consequences for that were worse than her wake-up tickles for sure.

After looking back at him and seeing how red his face was, Tarja’s fingers changed from torturing her brother to gently rubbing his foot instead, a bright smile on her face as his laughter died down to giggles. “Really, don’t forget to do your vocal exercises-- I’m not savin’ you if you end up croakin’ like that one time.”

Pulling his foot back and running his hands through his black hair, the teen groaned. “Don’t remind me, god, I’m still getting tweets about it.” Laughing softly, Tarja kissed his cheek, making him grumble and pointedly wipe the kiss away as she walked out of the room.

Zane was the last one to wake up-- since he was the baby of the family, Tarja always felt that he needed the most sleep, and the gentlest approach to being woken up. As she entered his room, she noticed in the gentle glow of his nightlights that he was on his back, the covers kicked to the end of his bed-- perfect.

She carefully laid down next to Zane, ruffling his brown hair, her voice soft. “Zane... time to wake up...” As his eyelids fluttered, she could just barely see the colors change-- from surprised yellow to sleepy orange and back to his normal blue-- before they closed again. She “tsk”ed playfully, lifting his shirt and lightly spidering her fingers across his tummy. His eyes were yellow again as they shot open, and he immediately attempted to curl in on himself, giggles and snickers escaping him. But she knew how to keep him from curling up, moving one hand to prod at his side so he would jerk away-- straight into her arms.

She kept one arm wrapped around his chest, her free hand tracing circles around his belly button as he shrieked and squirmed as much as he could in her hold. Despite his attempts to escape, though, she knew he enjoyed it. Being the most ticklish didn’t mean he hated it, desperation to get away be damned.

Of course, as much as she wanted to tickle him to tears, Tarja knowing that Zane was awake meant she had to get a move on. So with a single poke to his belly button, making him squeak loudly and nearly jump out of his skin, Tarja released him, kissing his forehead when he turned to look at her.

“We’ll finish this later, kid. Don’t think I’m letting you off so easy.” A short wiggle of her fingers over his tummy, not even close to touching it, and he giggled, bringing his knees up. She laughed softly, shaking her head as she stood. “Don’t forget your pick when you come back up later. I dunno if I have any spares, and I don’t want you hurting your fingers.”

She didn’t leave the room until he was out of bed, and she headed back to her room to get dressed, leaving her makeup for later. When she descended the stairs and entered the kitchen, she was pleased with what she saw-- Xan with his hair tied up and making pancakes, Nexx setting the table (and drumming on the table with the silverware, of course), Vix making coffee, and Zane getting mugs and glasses ready.

Tarja couldn’t help but smile fondly. This was where her morning routine paid off.

#I love this lil family tbh #Tarja is best big sister #; tarja #; xan #; nexx #; vix #; zane #; ticklish!xan #; ticklish!nexx #; ticklish!vix #; ticklish!zane #srsly tho Zane is the cutest lil thing #Tarja is my queen #but Zane is my precious tiny boy #and I'll def have to write Tarja wrecking him later #bc he's the cutest and I love him #flksjdlkfj

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cvenir · 6 years

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here i am to introduce EIGHT characters that i actually thought i had already introduced lmao set me on fire !! but yay, take a look under the cut! ofc eventually proper bios will hit my pages and their tasks will expand much more on my children! as always, pinterests and songs are linked if u wanna go a lil deeper

just kidding i drafted that when i was aCTUALLY gonna do 8 but thankfully tea says she won’t accept me until i post 2 intros so yOU SHALL RECEIVE 2 RN and 8 later <33333 gotta keep y’all on your toes heh also i wrote niall’s in my journal on the plane so like... it’s not great (literally just bullets of sentence fragments) but wtvr that’s what bios are for amirite

NIALL O'DONOGHUE looks an awful lot like TARON EGERTON. HE is TWENTY-EIGHT and while they're ASTUTE, they have a tendency to get pretty ARDUOUS. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to DON'T WANNA FALL IN LOVE by KYLE (ok his pinterest is incredibly unfinished look away)

v conflicting mix of soft and hard

king of suppressing his lowkey intense feelings

kinda awkward around others due to the fact that he spent his entire life reading, writing, and studying –– he rarely interacted with other people as a kid and this mostly continued into his adult life

sweet soft boi has a double masters in medieval and renaissance studies and french and romance philology; he’s working on his phd rn while interviewing to become an assistant professor at kola university

grew up w a single mom (never knew dad) and had no siblings so his childhood was even lonelier :////

so like mad libs = his bff :’(

well mad libs and the shoulder flashlight he invented for late night reading (shoutout to amy santiago)

v soft and passionate heart

loves intellectual discussions like my boi has v strong gemini/virgo/mercury influences –– and a libra (or taurus i haven’t decided yet) venus so waTCH OUT

takes friendship v seriously (love u grant <333 @mcnuggcts )

buttt he can be a giant asshole sorry i don’t make the rules

v organized and particular

and scared of getting close to people bc he’s so used to being alone ugh my son!!

but once you get in there you’ll see he’s a good guy like rlly is he just has a bad temper sometimes and can barely express any emotion but anger half the time :///

ISLA VARGA looks an awful lot like ALEXIS REN. SHE is TWENTY-TWO and while they're SAGACIOUS, they have a tendency to get pretty MACABRE. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to COOL GIRL by TOVE LO.

so i’ve played isla before n i’m v sorry to do this but i feel hella lazy so i’m sORRY but here comes a fucking huge wall of text don’t look at me and don’t feel like u have to read it ://// all the triggers i tagged apply to her; she’s p dark so seriously do not read it if you think she will make you uncomfortable!!

to preface, isla is like the embodiment of all of the seven deadly sins, and i molded her a lot after amy dunne (scary, i know) and april ludgate (mostly amy tho april is just deadpan like she is –– when she’s being herself, that is), as she is an incredible pococurante yet perfectionist who borders on sociopathy

soooo this will make sense later but her real name is actually brigid (father’s surname idk) which she now uses as her middle name

so isla’s dad is a fucking rockstar !!! badass right. she’s half-siblings with hadley ( @ofadorations ) and colby ( @shtbgs ) but she actually never met her mom, something she’s not too pressed about

bc she was cute as a button, family friends decided to get her into the entertainment business as a child star almost as soon as she could walk –– she did it all, acted, modeled, danced, sang, she was literally hollywood’s little starlet and she hated every minute of it. the entertainment business loved who they created, but that girl was never her and it weighed deeply on her psyche.

when she was twelve, she decided to fake her own disappearance because she was fed up with everything –– she cut her hair to her ears, dyed it brown (and has continued to do so ever since) and sneaked her way to nyc hoping no one would recognize her

well someone did, and they happened to be a member of ruthless and organized mobs of the city –– in return for keeping her concealed, she pledged her devotion and became one of their most skilled and lethal honeytraps in the business (WHICH IS ABSOLUTELY TERRIBLE BC THEY MADE HER START YOUNG I AM SO SORRY FOR WRITING THIS IT JUST PLAYS HEAVILY INTO HER CHARACTER)

along the way, members inevitably died –– people she was sworn to care for –– many times before her eyes as well, which only lead her to realize she enjoyed witnessing all sorts of death, even those of people she was supposed to “love”. emotion was almost nonexistent in isla’s childhood, a trait that bled into her character development.

she began to idolize the gang and its power, something she now craved. still, isla was doing a great job of portraying herself to those around her as a rosy, meek, baby-doll, when in actuality she was a child full of hate who would soon blossom into a young adult of the same tone. she became even more obsessed with death, fantasizing about it as if her unusual thoughts would make her less afraid when it came for her.

eventually, as she grew older, she was accepted into the higher ranks of the mob; this couldn’t have made isla more content. the macabre girl was honored that someone else noticed her genius, the way she could predict things, assess situations, manipulate people to do her bidding. it was only right that she was initiated into a society that praised her for such harshness

but, as all things do, her time in the gang ended after ten years and isla did what she does best: disappeared. she’s relocated back close to home, kola california, and it’s only a matter of time before people and the industry realize just who she is

if she’s acting like her true self, she behaves like a negative, eldritch layabout who likes to watch others suffer (sounds extreme, i know). however, she rarely lets anyone see the real her, and instead accepts various facades in a big game –– the darkness is truly her personality, she’s not faking her cold demeanor. this image enables her to mask her true potential and the fact that she is unflaggingly loyal and cares about those she’s close to.

if i had to give her a label, it would probably be the pococurante (which is defined as: an indifferent person. possibly they’re bored, jaded or even been hurt. either way, they tend not to get attached to things and don’t show much enthusiasm, whether that’s on the outside or the inside, too)

on the other hand, she could be accurately summed up as an arcane, as she’s an enigmatic mystery and she prides herself on being a puzzle that several people have failed to solve. there are many sides to her personality; in some aspects, she’s very much an aesthete considering she spends a great deal of her time taking putting together outfits, so she has a very defined fashion sense and typically dresses like a princess half the time, which is very ironic considering her dark personality. she truly is so GLAMOROUS (and this is why i love alexis for her) and she works that mean girl, hard soul aesthetic while serving looks and also able to come across as incredibly sweet, which is perfect for her multiple personas. she’s a stunner, with both her appearance and personality; as much as she is indifferent and would prefer to fly under the radar, wherever she goes people always want to ask questions, making her into this intangible concept that everyone wants to define.

people will recognize parts of her as if they’ve seen here in another life, and because of her ostentatious, puzzling, and spellbinding personality, she’s unforgettable. on the other hand, she’s also something of a virago, due to the fact that she can be incredibly feisty when angered; but it takes quite a lot to actually set off her fuse, as she’s good at controlling which emotions she shares. for the most part, she is incredibly blasé and even-tempered. additionally, she’s is a bit of a picaro because her primary aim with her life at this point is to be independent and liberated from any and all attachments to other people. mostly, though, she’s is nothing more than a girl who’s afraid; of what, she still can’t decide.

all in all, she’s so much of everything that she isn’t quite certain of her own identity. her character is one shrouded in secrets and shadows yet alluring and sensual. but, lbr, most of all she’s just deadass terrifying. one of her defining characteristics is her desire to make things happen for her through her own abilities and determination. obstinate as all get out, she doesn’t like to own up to making mistakes so she tries to prove that she’s almost invincible to them bc she doesn’t wanna let anyone see her vulnerable, or she doesn’t want to let someone down - this refers only to those that she’s actually close to. due to her apathetic nature, all she really wants to do is let most people down – people she finds boring and useless – and have some fun because of it. however, when it comes to people she truly has allowed herself to care about, her deepest desire is for their happiness because they must be pretty damn special for making her give a shit.

still, because of her evasive tendencies, she almost always does ruin things for herself and for others, even when she actually cares. she’s like a double-edged sword; when she finds something worthwhile, she sees so much beauty and potential in it, but she’s got a midas touch. whenever she wants to obtain it or pursue it, her involvement makes everything fall to ashes, and she is afraid of her own influence. despite her tendency to run away, once she latches on and decides to be truly loyal, she’ll be devoted in such an extent that she would undoubtedly kill for them.

she can be a loudmouth whenever she actually decides to speak, constantly fabricating outlandish stories and even going off like a deranged person, but beneath her caustic and frightening exterior, isla is rather pensive. on the occasion that she chooses to offer legitimate advice, it’s usually very elaborate and composed. still, she doesn’t want people to know about capable she is, or how intelligent she can be, so she hides her rare brilliance with a tough exterior and stoic personality.

idk if you can tell but i like diving into the specifics of my character like their star signs and stuff so i searched an amy dunne mbti and tweaked it bc it really helped describe her even further! she’s a intj !

introverted intuition (ni): isla sees everything around her in a world of symbols, of metaphors, and of potential. her narration will continually be littered with predictions, with ideas about how things are going to be and what will result from this or that. despite her brashness that some may assume is impulsivity, she is a planner, anticipating new “problems” and seeking to rectify them with her own twisted brand of justice. she tries to work everything into her overall system of understanding, of her big ideas about how the world works, including her take on her various false identities she possesses for her previous job as an escort but also to mess with the minds of others around her. she’s always disappointed by how the real world is never as good as the way she imagined it; she is perfect and nothing else can catch up with her expectations.

extroverted feeling (fe): despite her aloofness, and rather lack of any sort of emotional bearing, empathy, or any sort of true feeling, isla is conscious of how others’ perceive her, of the image she’s created, and of how key that social perception is to her success, even if it’s just in her own imagination. she restrains her real opinions in order to adapt to her environment, as she’s somewhat of a chameleon, only a few have had a chance to catch the true witch beneath the crown. she’s the mistress of change, easily altering her identities in order to better fit in with new people, should the situation require it. she’s easily devastated when she reveals her real personality to others, as in the past, some that she’s left truly see her have refused to accept her twisted true-self. even though she is wholesomely selfish and self-seeking, isla is very people-focused, and applies most of her intellect and analysis onto general people-based functions, that may she can have the confidence that she has clearly manipulated and analyzed every aspect of her environment, as she needs this to feel in control.

introverted thinking (ti): as mentioned, isla is highly analytical, always trying to see the why of a scenario, what’s behind human behavior, which turns her attention to psychology and manifests in her flair for anticipating the thoughts and actions of those around her; she is so obsessed with understanding why people tick that she looks past her own slighted judgment, as she herself could easily qualify as a sociopath/psychopath. she’s always trying to fit in any new experience, or piece of information, into her pre-established system of facts, and as such is rarely ever surprised. despite her apathy and lack of care for her life or how it progresses, she’s highly organized and loves to make checklists, arrangements for the future, and methodically ticks of her obligations, one by one. while her emotions and feelings are significantly suppressed, and even nonexistent, she makes up for that human trait with a very powerful mind, one that is quick to learn and adept with languages, memorization, and logic. however, she doesn’t want anyone to know just how brilliant and quick she is, as it’s her greatest asset, thus explaining why she chose not to be a member on the intellectual team.

extroverted sensing (se): isla tends to respond her physical environment with fierce analysis, as expressed in her intellectual capabilities. she’s almost incapable of living in the moment, contrary to how people suspect she is, considering she portrays herself as impulsive and cunningly excitable. in reality, though, even when she’s crossed off everything on her checklist, she’s almost incapable of relaxing, or enjoying the world around her, as she doesn’t find things that other people find beautiful. she struggles the most with the physical side of her plans, even though she is a very physical individual. she is very open with her body and indulges with the lusts of the flesh, as she sensuality is at the same level as her wickedness. along with this, isla craves for the environment that houses her figure to be pleasant and organized, and can’t stand when things are out of order.

#tw sociopath #tw gang #if that's a thing i'm so sorry i'm kinda oblivious w triggers please someone correct me or tell me if i'm missing anything #fckit:intro #tw death #tw childhood trauma #tw prostitution #in a way #tw child abuse #tw human trafficking #could also apply i'm so sorry i'm trying to cover all the bases just in case

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beepbeeprichiellc · 6 years

Note

for that big list of aus do you think you could combine 10.iv and 10.v with reddie ???? with Eddie being the one obsessed with Christmas and snow bc it just sounds adorable okay and your writing is amazing

You are too kind. This ended up really long, my bad.

Richie watched the snow fall from his seat, the white clumpsgathering at the base of the window before flying off back into the abyss. Asmile curled at the corner of his lips, he loved snow, probably more than anyof his friends. It had a purity to it, a sense that their sins would wash awaywith the new blanket of fluff. He preferred it around Christmas, but he wouldsettle for its early arrival.

“Okay you got Bill’s new roommate’s name down right? Youaren’t going to embarrass me right?” Stan asked flatly from beside him. Anyonewho gave him a second look would think that the boy was 60 rather than 23. He worepressed pants, a cardigan, and carried a sense of arrogance that only peoplewith years of experience in life have. Not to mention his granny reading glassesand Sunday newspaper that he insisted on bringing along with them for theirtrip. They were complete opposites. Richie had more of a punk rock vibe,choosing torn jeans over pressed ones and a leather jacket over a cardigan anyday.How they ended up best friends was beyond them.

“Yeah, yeah. Eddie. I got it the first time you told me.” Hereplied, huffing in annoyance. “Doesn’t he have his own family to be with forThanksgiving? That place is already going to be crowded with Mike’s new girl coming.”

Stan rolled his eyes, “Don’t be bitter just because you haveto sleep on the floor.”

“Well not everyone can sleep in Bill’s bed.” He retortedplayfully, enjoying the bush that crept up Stan’s neck. “I mean I could, butyou know I’m a vivid dreamer. I’d hate to play out my wet dreams with the twoof you and-“

“Beep beep Richie.” He jeered just as their stop wasannounced.

The two exited, heading out of the terminal and out into thebusy streets of New York. “So have you ever even met this guy?” Richie asked,following close to on his friends heels. “Is he a weirdo like Bill’s last roommate,or like a creep like his roommate before that?”

“Bill says he’s normal. A little pristine but normal.” Stanshrugged, pulling his coat tighter against him as the snow became heavier inthe air. “He’s a nurse at the hospital, real smart and real clean.”

“Sounds like I’m gonna hate him.”

“Wow you just have the most faith in people don’t you?” Hebit, the townhouse coming into view. “You don’t have to like him Rich, you justhave to deal with him okay? Just for this holiday and then Christmas is at Beverly’s.”

Richie blew a raspberry as his response, to which Stanmerely ignored. They took to the steps of the home, knocking at the door. “I’mtelling you Richie, if you ruin this I will kick you out of our apartment. Justbehave.”

There wasn’t enough time to respond because that second thedoor opened, reviling a very done up Beverly. She let out a squeal, embracingStan. “Oh finally, you were the last to arrive! Did you have a nice tripupstate?”

“Fine.” Stan lied, moving past her and into the home.

“Damn Bev, eat my heart out.” Richie cooed, pulling the fieryhaired woman into his arms.

“Don’t let Ben hear you. I’m spoken for now.” She repliedsweetly, holding out her left hand. “He’s going to make an honest woman of meafter all.”

“God damn look at that rock!” He cooed, pulling her hand toget a closer look. “Shit, I’ll let him fuck me if he gets me one of those!” Beverlypushed him playfully, shaking her head in annoyance.

Once Richie entered the home, the smell of turkey andstuffing wafted back into him. His stomach responded by growling eagerly. He wasnext met with Ben, who hugged him briefly but sternly, followed by Mike and hisnew girlfriend who he learned was named Maggie and who embraced him regardlessof just meeting him. Richie felt his heart swell at the sight of them all, thankfulthat he had his own little family this time of the year.

“Where’s Bill? I gotta tell him that that food smellsamazing.”

“Oh he’s in the kitchen with Eddie.” Mike replied, gesturingto the door. Richie grimaced at the statement, picturing an extremely primpedand uptight man helping his brother with their dinner. He nodded, trudging throughthe door.

He entered the room with a bang, the door slamming againstthe counters loudly. “Honey, I’m home!” Richie bellowed obnoxiously.

Bill looked up from the oven, smiling widely. “RichieTozier, as I live and breathe.” He cooed, dropping his spoon and pulling hisfriend into a sincere hug, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in a fucking year.”

“Just about.” He replied, looking over to the beautifularray of the food. “Since when did you become a chef? Last time you were incharge of dinner, you burnt the pizza.”

“Actually Eddie cooked.”

“You helped.” A voice replied from behind the door to thefridge. As the barrier was shut, Richie could feel his breath hitch in the backof his throat. The man, who he thought he would hate, was no older than him. Hewas short in stature, standing only to Richie’s chest. The pink polo he worewas partially covered by his apron, which looked well used. Bill was right indescribing him as pristine, but also horribly incorrect. Inside of him wasn’tan old soul like Stan, but rather a bright and beautiful one, one that wouldburn Richie to the core.

Eddie smiled, causing Richie’s knees to become weak. “I don’tthink we’ve met.” The small adult muttered, extending his hand. “You must be Richie.”

“Yes sir.” He managed in response, taking the petite hand intohis. God, he was soft. “You’re Eddie yeah?”

“That’s me.” Eddie jeered. “The party crasher.”

“Stop calling yourself that.” Bill interjected as they droppedtheir hands, making Richie instantly feel bare. “I invited you to this, therewasn’t any way you could go back home this year, not after what happened.”

“What happened?” Richie asked.

Eddie cringed, recovering quickly with a fake smile. “Nothingto worry about right now.” He replied softly. “Dinner is almost done. Do youmind telling the others?” Richie nodded, looking to Bill who only wore a sadface. As he left he could hear their hushed voices and although he could notmake out what was said he was sure that Eddie was scorning his roommate for theslip.

The food was absolutely fabulous.

Every single item was made to perfection, and the Losers atethe entire thing up. As they sat around the table lazily, conversation seemedto center around the surprising snow fall. Richie felt his stomach flip in excitement.His head perked up, smiling at his friends he blurted. “Okay, who is going togo out and look at the snow with me?”

Everyone groaned at once, all muttering smoothing profoundunder their breath. Maggie looked like she was going to raise her hand but Mikesnatched her wrist, shaking his head vigorously. “I’ll go.” A small voice fromthe opposite end of the table said.

“Uh Eddie, I don’t think you want to do that.” Ben warned, “Richieis a bit intense.”

“I’ll be fine. I love the snow.”

Richie barged outside with the small boy in tow, kicking upthe snow that had freshly fallen on their steps. He beamed as he watched Bill’sroommate follow him, his pea-coat nearly swallowing him whole. Eddie smiled,taking two steps at a time until his feet were firmly planted on the asphalt. “So.”He sang, raising an eyebrow at Richie. “Is there a specific reason your friendsdidn’t want to join you?”

“Maybe…” Richie replied sly, watching the other kid wanderaround the sidewalk. “Maybe not…”

Eddie hummed, rolling eyes and looking up towards the sky.Richie took his opening, shoving a handful of snow down the back of his coat.Eddie squealed in surprise, jumping in circles and cursing his name. Richiecouldn’t help but laugh.

“I’m the snow king Eds. That’s why no one-“He was cut shortby a snow ball that hit him squarely in the chest, sending shards of ice intohis mouth. “What in the hell!” he sputtered, tasting the lingering New Yorkflavor.

“You’re a shitty king.” Eddie retorted, throwing another ball,only this time missing by a few inches.

“Oh you’re dead.”

Bill and the others watched in horror as the two returned completelydrenched from head to toe. They were rushed off to shower and change with stupidlybig grins plastered on their faces. Richie refused to admit that he had losthis crown.

After that the night progressed quickly, becoming one bigblur of laughter and tomfoolery. It was like Eddie had been the missing pieceof their group, his smart mind keeping Stan and Ben entertained, his work andtravel interesting Mike and his quick mouth keeping Richie in line. No matterwho he spoke with, in a matter of mere minutes they were swooned, drawn in byhis charisma and kindness.

Two by two, the couples left for bed, leaving Richie andEddie. Conversation began to lag, an uncomfortable silence lingering betweenthen. Richie wasn’t typically the edgy type, hell he could make a politiciansmile, but there was something about Eddie that made him nervous. Almostscared. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing or make him uncomfortable in anyway so he opted for nothing. Which in retrospect probably wasn’t the best idea.

“Oh!” Eddie exclaimed after nearly thirty minutes ofsilence. “I almost forgot!”

Richie watched the small figure jump from the couch and bolttowards the hallway closet. There was a commotion and a few slurs buteventually he emerged with a tote that was almost as large as he was. Eddiesmirked up at him, popping open the lid and expelling the contents.

“What the actual fuck?” Richie griped, watching none otherthan Christmas directions spill at his feet. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Nope.” He replied with a pop of his p. Quickly he began togather his things, an excitable giggle following him as he went.

“It’s literally still Thanksgiving.”

“So?”

“So? It’s fucking November and-no, not the tree. Put thatback.”

Eddie ignored him, setting up the base by the staircase. Heskipped with enthusiasm, disregarding the looks that Richie gave him. It wasalmost too cute, his tiny hands working poorly with the twisted lights, hishappy hum causing Richie to just stare in awe.

How had he gone his entire life not knowing this kid? Whatwas this feeling burning in his chest and what in the hell was he doing startingin the middle of the bundle?

“Oh my god, you’re doing it all wrong!” Richie muttered,grabbing the tangled mess from Eddie. “Let me just do it.”

“Thanks.” He whispered, his cheeks blushing a beautiful pinktint.

“Yeah yeah.” Riche replied, his voice lacking bite.

“I owe ya one.” Eddie poked, moving to the tote and pullingout more decorations.

Richie could feel the question on his tongue, he bit downhard trying to kill it but somehow it managed to slip past him. “So uh, whydidn’t you just go home for Thanksgiving?”

He could see Eddie tense up at the question, making Richieregret even speaking. Surprisingly he relaxed, wrapping the long tinsel aroundhis neck and filling his tiny hands with ornaments. “I had it out with mymother recently, we got into a huge fight and she told me not to come home forthe holidays.”

“Oh.” Richie choked, watching Eddie shrug. “What was it all about?”

“She doesn’t want a faggot for a son.” He replied easily,before Richie had a chance to reply he turned towards him, smiling. “Do youthink I should hang mistletoe?”

“Hell yeah.”

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gukyi · 6 years

Text

tripping over ourselves | jsw

⇒ summary: jeong sewoon is your best friend. he also happens to be a vampire. you’re no expert with vampires, but there must be something about his immortality that keeps drawing you to him. no way is it just his cute personality on its own.

⇒ vampire!au, friends to lovers!au

⇒ pairing: jeong sewoon x reader

⇒ word count: 4k

⇒ warnings: blood mention (it’s a vampire au, i don’t know what else you were expecting)

⇒ a/n: happy birthday to the baddest bitch i know, @sihyun !!!! i love u so much and i wanted to do something special for ur birthday, so here this monstrosity is!!!!! i could make this authors note like 4k long if i wanted to bc i love u so much. on a side note, me writing for a pd101 boy is kind of a one time thing. soz.

There’s a lifeless, colorless bird on your windowsill, and it’s the first thing you notice when you step inside your shared apartment. The poor thing’s had the life drained right out of it; decaying, rotting scent wafting through the room. It almost looks peaceful, really, collapsed on its side like it just conked out after a very long flight, feathers fluttering softly in the breeze that runs through the flat.

Well, at least Sewoon had the decency to open the window to get the smell out.

Dead animals are a surprisingly common occurrence in whatever fucked-up household you live in, though you made the executive decision a while ago to restrict the animals that Sewoon treks in to just birds of flight. No penguins, tragically, and also no rodents. Dead birds are a little less gross than dead rats. You see enough of those already whenever you walk down the sidewalk of the city center.

You sigh, seeing this as only a minor inconvenience at best, and drop your backpack to your feet, letting it hit the wall beside it. Once that damn heavy thing is off of your shoulders, you make a beeline for his room, storming towards it and trying not to pay too much attention to the lifeless creature on the windowsill. The less you worry about it, the better. If you spent your entire life stressing over the fact that sometimes Sewoon has to kill birds to live, then you’d never get anything done.

“Sewoon?” You ask, a little peeved, not even bothering to knock on his closed door and instead just barging inside. “I thought we discussed—”

Sewoon looks up like a deer in the headlights, eyes wide as the light from the hallway illuminates a bit of his figure. His room is pitch black otherwise, every part of it hidden in the shadows, including himself. His eyes are a blazing shade of red, a stark signal that he’s just fed. In a little, they’ll fade back to a casual mahogany shade. Something a little less… obvious. There’s a thin trail of blood from his bottom lip to his chin, little drops falling onto his sheets.

“You’re kidding me,” you immediately say, crossing your arms over your chest as you take in the sight in front of you. “Don’t tell me you’ve been batting around in the dark while I was in class.”

“I have,” Sewoon says, grinning guiltily. “But not by much. I just haven’t fed in a while, I got a bit desperate. Didn’t want you to come home to see me freaking out in the living room, getting blood stains all over the furniture.”

You chuckle, stifling a much bigger laugh. “You do that even when I am home.”

“But I try to avoid it when you’re not, just so you don’t scream at me when you get back,” he insists, eyes pleading. God, they always fucking work on you. Vamps with soft hearts are a deadly combination. No pun intended.

“I’ll scream at you any time.”

“Like now?” He asks, wincing. He knows he’s in some minorly deep shit now.

“Like now,” you confirm, walking into his dark room and pulling him from his bed by his shirt collar, holding onto it tightly as you drag him outside. “I thought we discussed the dead bird shit, man,” you say, exasperated. “What the hell is this?”

“The dead bird shit.”

“Exactly. When did you even have the time to feed off of it?” You ask, pushing the boy backwards, making him stumble over his feet, dazed. You peer out the window, squinting at the moon behind the skyscrapers. “The sun barely set an hour ago.”

“I was really hungry,” Sewoon admits, and from the way his eyes are still ignited in red hot flames and the blood on his chin is still fresh, you know he’s telling the truth. “It’s been tough.”

“Don’t you work the night shift at the hospital?” You remind him. Typically, this type of incident isn’t an issue, just because Sewoon kind of has an endless supply of human blood whenever he goes in for his internship. It’s a win-win situation most of the time, really. Sewoon gets his blood and he doesn’t have to come in contact with the sun, which—while it will not kill him—will give him a particularly gnarly sunburn on the skin where exposed. Vamp perks. Or not, you suppose.

“They’ve given me more work this past week,” Sewoon sighs, collapsing onto the couch as you get a paper towel to shove the bird out of the window. Couldn’t he have just done this on his own? “I haven’t had the time to feed.”

“God, I hate it when you’re all responsible and productive. It makes me feel so awful,” you tell him, rolling your eyes as you move his feet off of the couch so you can sit next to him. “You’re literally going to live forever. You have all the time in the world to be productive and responsible. Me? I’m gonna die.”

“Not soon, I hope,” Sewoon says, sitting up and leaning on your shoulder. “Nobody else understands my vampire ways like you do.”

“I’ve had to deal with you my entire life. Vamp or not, you’re stuck with me.”

Sewoon rests his chin on your shoulder and grins your way, a tired, hazy smile, and he shows off his blood-stained fangs in the process. They are, admittedly, very cute for a vampire, endearing and surprisingly fitting for him. It’s like he was just made to be a vamp. You can’t help but send a smile his way, not when it’s late in the evening and time feels delicate and slow. You reach a hand up and wipe away the blood on his chin with your thumb, letting it stain your skin and leave his skin pale in return.

“I’d rather live the rest of my days alone than with someone that isn’t you,” Sewoon says, and the line that resides between platonic and romantic affection is practically moot at this point, a nonsense concept that shouldn’t try to separate relationships into black and white. Every interaction with him that you have is platonic, but it could also be romantic if you wanted it to be.

The question is: Do you want it to be romantic? Does he?

Sewoon’s favorite season is winter. By a very long shot. It used to be summer, but that was before he turned, before he realized that he literally always has to walk around outside covered from head to toe, unless he was looking for some intense sunburn to go along with those awful shorts of his. Now, when the seasons change and he gets to bundle up under layers upon layers of sweaters and coats and scarves, he thrives.

You quite like the colder months too, but maybe that’s just because Sewoon always looks so adorable with that bright orange puffer jacket on over four different sweaters. Like the coziest, bright orange marshmallow in the world. He’s always had a particularly cold body, even when you two were children. Not even being turned into a vamp could change that.

“You look like you’d rather die than let your skin touch the sun,” you’re commenting as the two of you get ready to go out on the town. It’s shopping season (it’s always shopping season, really), and you’re also meeting up with one of his friends at a little winter music festival in the square.

“Isn’t that kind of the point of being a vamp?” Sewoon asks as he zips up that obnoxious orange coat of his. He fishes his only pair of gloves out from the pockets of the jacket, tugging them on before turning to attack his scarf. It takes you guys almost five minutes to get from saying that you’ll leave now to actually leaving. It’s always him.

You laugh. “Sun versus Sewoon, who will come out on top?” You declare in your best wrestling commentator voice.

Sewoon smiles to himself, little white fangs peering out from his closed mouth, meeting his soft pink bottom lip. “Sun, definitely. I’d be toast.”

“Ba dum tss,” you say, noting his probably-intentional pun and grabbing your bag and opening the door, the universal signal for hurry the fuck up, let’s go before it’s tomorrow already. Sewoon gets the message and speeds up the process of putting on his boots before scurrying to join you as you make your way down the hallway.

“Are you looking forward to this music thing?” He asks as you reach the lobby. “The one that Donghyun invited us to?”

You shrug, bracing yourself for the biting wind as you leave your complex. “I guess. I’m not looking forward to standing in the cold for God-knows how long.”

“You just gotta toughen up,” Sewoon says, reaching an arm around you and tugging you close into his side. “I’ll warm you up.”

“You’re a fucking vampire. You wouldn’t warm up even if you stood in flames,” you say, frowning.

“I tried to be hospitable and welcoming and romantic and you shoot me down, once again,” Sewoon says, shaking his head in disapproval. “Stop being so realistic all of the time. It ruins the mood.”

“That’s my job.”

“Ah, yes,” Sewoon nods, chuckling to himself heartily as the two of you make your way along the sidewalks to get to the town center, “Professional Mood Ruiner. Very prestigious title. You should put that on your resumé.”

“I’ll put it right next to Vampire Moral Support,” you joke, grinning his way and shivering from the cold. He tightens his hold on you, coat warming you up in place of the body heat that he no longer possesses.

“Yes, you do that.”

Donghyun is already there when you and Sewoon finally reach the festival stage, munching on some ridiculously unhealthy thing he probably got from a food truck nearby. He turns his head, mouth filled with food, and spots the two of you huddled together to shield yourselves from the cold as you walk over to him.

“How the hell are you wearing short sleeves?” You ask, brows furrowed. “It’s winter.”

“It’s not that cold, you guys are just weak,” Donghyun retorts, making Sewoon roll his eyes. Sometimes, when he does that, you get a little worried that those brown contacts are going to dislodge themselves and reveal the red underneath. “Look, I got us a really good spot near the front.”

“Whose smartass idea was it to have a winter music festival outside,” you mutter to yourself as you and Sewoon situate yourselves together next to Donghyun, who’s already distracted and paying little to no attention to you.

Even so, the crowd is sizeable and also getting very hype over the performing artists, Donghyun included. No wonder he’s wearing some goddamn short sleeves—the body heat he must be producing with all of that obnoxious jumping is probably warming him right up. Meanwhile, you and Sewoon are just casually standing together, swaying back and forth to the rhythm of the music. You probably look like the damn softest couple in the world, hardly even dancing to the upbeat song and all bundled up together, but neither of you are protesting. Sewoon’s always been quite comfy.

Sewoon turns to smile at you when the song changes, the shadow from his cap cast over his face as his fangs gleam in front of you. Vampires have never been so damn cute, or maybe Sewoon’s just an outlier. The one adorable vamp in the population of evil, rude ones. Of course, no wonder he’s ended up with you.

When the show ends, Donghyun rushes up to the two of you from where he was standing near the stage—you hadn’t even realized he had somehow moved—an alarming amount of sweat staining his shirt from all of the excitement. Only Donghyun would fucking somehow manage to start sweating while outside in the middle of a cold winter’s day. He looks absolutely spent, to put it gently, hair matted and panting like a dog.

“Wow, have you guys even moved?” Donghyun asks the two of you in shock. “It’s like you guys have roots growing into the ground, trapping you here.”

“I think we’re quite comfortable, don’t you?” Sewoon says confidently, wrapping his arms even tighter around your body as he grins towards you, nearly knocking into your forehead with that goddamn cap of his. You nod in response, though under this thick jacket, you’re not really sure if anyone noticed.

Donghyun puts a hand up to wave off Sewoon’s words. “Whatever. You guys can keep being soft here as the crowd leaves. I’m out. Catch you later?”

He doesn’t give either of you time to respond to his posed question and suggest another date for meeting up, just bounces off as if the weather doesn’t affect him whatsoever, skipping away like a child.

“There’s that nice coffee shop nearby,” you remember, not wanting to go back to your apartment just yet. “Wanna go?”

Sewoon nods happily, releasing you from his embrace as the two of you head in the direction of your next destination. On the way, his fingers fiddle with yours, playing a little game in between your bodies until he eventually coaxes you into just holding his hand like normal people do.

Neither of you are really quite normal.

Stepping into the steamy little corner shop, your ears and nose heat up from the sudden change in temperature, making you shiver from the contrast. You know Sewoon experiences no such sensation, but you don’t really think he minds not having that human quality anymore. Not when your shivering is just another excuse for him to wrap his body around you like a fucking hot dog bun, or something. You eventually have to force him off of you—because with his overbearing body on top of all the heat from this coffee and your own outerwear, you feel like you’re about to melt into a pile of lava right on the hardwood floor—but he doesn’t leave you alone without a teasing little smile, one that is so terribly Sewoon of him.

“Black coffee with absolutely no flavor, how intense of you,” you comment as the two of you wander over to where you can pick up your drinks. In your best rugged, bearded lumberjack voice, you say, “Only real men waste five bucks on coffee that has no taste.”

“Oh, shut up, you know why I got it,” Sewoon says, nudging your side as he rolls your eyes, fake sick of your taunting. “Besides, it tastes better than whatever sugar-filled tea you got yourself.”

“Like you know what my very, very delicious peach green tea tastes like. With your taste buds, everything just tastes like blood, to you,” you retort.

“You got me there,” Sewoon says, pointing a finger gun your way as the barista hands you your drinks.

You migrate over to an empty couch, sitting with your legs pressed up against each others to warm up even further.

“Did you like today’s thing?” Sewoon asks, taking a sip of his coffee and not even flinching when the beverage (probably) burns his tongue. Oh, the life of a vamp.

“It was alright, I guess,” you reply. shrugging. You don’t have the invincible tongue that Sewoon does, so you refrain from drinking your tea for a little longer. “I probably would have enjoyed it more if it weren’t cold and if Donghyun weren’t so… Donghyun.”

Sewoon chuckles at your description of his friend. “That’s the most relatable thing I’ve ever heard.” Another sip. “I quite liked it, actually.”

“Really? You could hear the music under all these damn layers?”

Sewoon pouts, not appreciating your humor despite the fact that you’re absolutely hilarious. “Yes, and I enjoyed it. Makes me want to go home and experiment with my own guitar, see what I can come up with.”

“Oh, please don’t,” you say, brows downturned as you finally work up the courage to have a bit of your drink. Tastes perfect. “Your experimenting isn’t as welcome as you think it is.”

“I am a great singer, thank you,” Sewoon says, playfully affronted.

“Yeah, but you’re not necessarily a good ‘let me just strum random notes on my guitar and see if something sounds nice’ person,” you respond. You don’t know how many times you’ve come home from class to hear Sewoon stringing together some awful sounding melody, woken up in the middle of the night to some obnoxious guitaring from the room beside yours because he sleeps during the day.

Sewoon laughs at your rebuttal, too smitten to come up with his own comeback. “I was hoping you’d like it, that’s why I invited you to it.”

You chuckle. “Ah, geez, thanks. Thought I was just invited because I’m your sad mortal roommate.”

“That too,” Sewoon jokes, earning a gasp and a light smack on the shoulder from you. “I’m kidding. I really did think you’d like it, though. Was considering taking you out to another festival like this one when it gets a bit warmer.”

You narrow your eyes, taking a hesitant and drawn-out sip of your tea. “Did Donghyun set you up to do this?”

“No! All me. Thought we could go together, do some festival-y type things and listen to good music,” Sewoon says, grinning and hopeful.

It sounds suspiciously like a date to your ears, but you suppose that friends can have dates. Very romantic-sounding dates. Sewoon’s playing some sort of game here, but you’re not sure if you ever read the instruction manual, so you’re kind of just bullshitting your way through it. But a date—romantic, platonic, pathetic, whatever—with Sewoon is something you find you can never really resist.

One plus side to your best friend-slash-vamp being your long-term uni roommate is the fact that the both of you are typically awake at the same time. This can mostly be chalked up to your absolute shit sleeping schedule and the fact that he has to try and be as awake as he can during the night, since he can’t really do much besides mope in a dark room with the blinds drawn when it’s day.

Truth be told, even before Sewoon turned, he always had kind of a terrible sleeping schedule, always calling you up in high school at three in the morning to go and have some ridiculous escapade in the local park, go to a gas station convenience store and buy an obscene amount of chips before pigging out on the sidewalk. Sewoon really was just meant to be a vampire. Hardly anything changed—other than his unyielding need for blood—when he was bitten. Jeong Sewoon is still Jeong Sewoon, fangs or not, and you are still his best friend, vamp qualities and all.

He doesn’t have his internship this week—something about overstaffing and boring patients and shift cuts that you didn’t pay much attention to—and he doesn’t have class either because he takes it online (so he can do it at night), so he’s kind of just… always at home. Always. To be quite frank, you don’t really like leaving Sewoon at home alone. Not that he’s been known to you to throw massive parties or constantly bring home one-night stands (in fact, he never does the latter), but this whole vampire thing is still a bit new to the both of you. There could always be this one weird trait that could pop out of nowhere and burn the whole damn complex down, and you don’t like taking that chance.

The relationship you have with him is a little weird. You’re not necessarily his caretaker, because he knows how to deal with his own shit most of the time, but you’re also not just his best friend-slash-roommate that just so conveniently happened to want to share an apartment with him. There’s this peculiar mix of friend, guardian, guide, and another thing you don’t like putting a name to.

That thing that makes you think that half of the time there’s some romantic connotation with whatever the hell you’re doing with Sewoon. Whatever it is.

At least you can go to class with peace of mind, knowing that Sewoon typically just keeps himself busy when you’re not there with naps, schoolwork, or that beat-up old guitar that drives you nuts. The one that makes him hiss at you when you try to touch it.

You come home on a Friday night to one of the nicest scenes you think you’ve ever seen in the history of your friendship with Sewoon. Candles are lit all around the living space (you didn’t even know you owned candles) and there are Christmas lights decorating the walls. Sewoon sits on the couch, not a dead animal in sight, curled up in several layers of blankets and duvets and sheets, and a DVD case rests on your coffee table.

“The hell is this?” You ask, mostly in awe as you look around, dropping your bag onto the floor beside you.

“Movie night, except I took the liberty of setting the mood,” Sewoon says, clearly proud of his work.

“What movie are we watching?” You ask in disbelief, settling in on the couch next to him.

“Zootopia,” Sewoon says as he presses a couple of buttons on the remote, bringing the two of you to the loading screen.

“Wow, very romantic. Animals walking on two feet, damn, it just gets you,” you comment sarcastically.

“Leave me alone, I know we both like this movie, so we’re watching it.”

“You know me so well,” you mutter as you let your head rest in the crook of his neck, heaps of blankets covering your bodies.

Surprisingly enough, the movie goes on perfectly and without any interruptions from Sewoon, who is notorious for pausing the movie every five minutes to say something. He just lets his arm tug you in closer as you snuggle together on your sad little couch in this homely apartment. Sewoon always laughs at the worst parts, though, and typically you’re just a little annoyed by the timing but tonight, you can’t help but relish in the sound of his giggles, heart racing when they begin and dropping when they end.

You’d be a fool to not notice the definite romantic aura this entire movie night possesses, from the candles to the blankets to the fairy lights. Even so, you swear to yourself that you’re just friends, that maybe Sewoon’s doing all of this just for fun because you guys are just friends and you’ve always been just friends and that’s how you think you’ll always be. Friends do this type of stuff for their friends? Right?

You’re almost half-asleep by the time the movie draws to a close, Shakira’s voice fading out as Sewoon lowers the volume.

“Sleepy?” He asks, voice thick with tiredness himself.

“Just a little,” you say, trying to hide it even though you know he can see right through you. “What was all of this for, anyway, Sewoon?”

Sewoon blushes a little, eyes glowing a dark burgundy in the candlelight. You’ve never seen them this shade before. “Just a thing for you.”

“For me?”

“Yeah, can’t you tell? I care about you a lot, Y/N. I never want you to leave my side,” Sewoon hums softly, and you have no idea what he’s going to say next, what else he’ll do to sweep you off your feet, until he presses his lips to yours.

This is easily the most lighthearted kiss you’ve ever had, no teeth or tongue, just a child’s playground kiss. Just his lips on yours. It makes you gasp ever so slightly, but immediately you melt into the feeling, smiling on his lips.

“So, how about it?” Sewoon asks, beaming and hopeful and promising. He’ll give you the world if it means your happiness. “Will you accept my very cheesy confession?”

You laugh into your hand, almost too in shock to say anything. Almost. “You’re such a soft vamp, Sewoon, but of course. Always. It’s always been you, Sewoon.”

Grinning in the candlelight, his fangs have never looked better.

#kwriterskollection #sewoon oneshot #jeong sewoon oneshot #jeong sewoon imagine #sewoon scenario #produce 101 oneshot #produce 101 scenario #sewoon fluff #jeong sewoon fluff #i actually have no idea how to tag pd101 things rip #for u luna!!!!! imloveu soooooo much and happy birthday u lil scaley!!!!#w: tripping over ourselves

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