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#pls give them and the warm family more screen time
poursomesunaonme · 8 months
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taste you still !
pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader
summary: you've been the o'hara's babysitter for quite some time; miguel thinks it's time for a raise!
wc: 4k
a/n: i have nothing to say for myself - i wrote this in two hours off two glasses of wine LMAO
cw: minors dni (pls have ur age in ur bio)!, age gap (reader is in college), drinking (clear for consent tho), pet names (sweetheart, bunny, conejita, little girl), doggy, oral (fem and male receiving), handjob, 69, biting, edging, scratching, size kink, overstim, nipple play, squirting, modified missionary, finger sucking, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare!
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the tv flickers idly across the room as you fiddle with the hem of your skirt.  gabriella had been asleep for a few hours.  glancing at your phone, you find it’s just past midnight.  it’s a warm, friday summer night.  a soft drizzle begins to come down outside.
classes just finished for the summer.  if it had been any other friday, you’d be out at bars tearing it up with your friends.  however, the single dad you nanny for called you in last minute.  you didn’t mind.
the moist rainy air from the outside defeats the advances of the air conditioner, and it’s beginning to get hot in the living room where you sit.  you’re thankful for wearing light clothes, as it helps with the heat beginning to settle. the warmth and the sound of the rain to help your body settle, and you begin to doze off.
you jump as the lock clicks, signaling the return of your employer.  you clear your throat and check your phone before putting it down, acting like you were watching whatever animal documentary was on the tv.  
2:26am had blinked across your screen.  the father enters the house with a quiet sigh, locking the door behind him.
“hi, mr. o’hara,” you say lightly as he hangs his coat and shakes his umbrella before putting it in a plastic bag to dry off.
“hey, sweetheart,” he says, trying to keep the noise down to keep from waking his daughter as he kicks off his shoes, too tired to care if they land strewn across the floor.
“how was your night?” 
“i need a drink.” he chuckles, his footsteps receding into the kitchen to assuage his desire.  “do you want one?”
he had never offered you a drink before.  of course, you’re of age - it was just uncommon, given your position in his family.  
“i, uh…” you stumble over your words.  “sure.  please.  it’s been a long day.”
“i hope gabriella didn’t give you much trouble.”  the crackling sound of ice breaking under an expensive scotch drifts from the kitchen.
“no, she was great.  she just… she missed you.”
the words unspoken scream that you did as well, but you ignore them.  it was delusional to think of him that way, but you couldn’t help yourself for that split second.  it was rare to spend more than ten minutes with him when you helped him out with nannying - there was no reason for you to feel such an emotion.
“yeah… i missed her too.”
some underlying meaning laces his choice of words.  the sound of his footsteps alert you to his presence before he reaches over the couch from behind you to offer you the glass.  you jump slightly, but accept it.  he sits heavily next to you, the couch creaking under his sudden weight.  you both take a heavy sip of the drink.  it slightly burns your throat, but you manage to choke it down anyway.
you’re aware of his identity, as it was necessary to be privy to such matters when taking care of his daughter.  you had detailed protocols to follow in case of such emergencies and the like, but that didn’t mean that you would ask about his mission.  you assumed the subject was off limits, and that strategy kept you in good graces with the man.  instead, he asks you about how the end of your school was, if there was any issue in securing an apartment for the next semester, mundane things and the like.
you answer all of his questions politely.  as much as you want to inquire about his missions, you refrain from doing so. he finishes his drink in no time, asking if you’d like another.  you eye your drink then finish the whole thing, handing the empty glass back to him.
you swear he mutters “good girl” under his breath.  it makes your stomach churn in a way you could have never imagined.
when he sits next to you with the drinks refreshed, it’s much closer.  you feel the heat radiating off his body.  the alcohol begins to course through your veins, and you can’t control the way your body easily gravitates toward him.  you struggle against the muffling feeling, struggle to keep control of your body that so badly wants to be pressed against his.
“oh, did i make a mistake?” he murmurs when he notices your proximity.  “want me to order you an uber?”
“no, no, mr. o’hara.” you shake off his offer.  “i’m okay.  thank you though.”
he pauses, swishing the alcohol in the glass before downing it swiftly.  “in that case, i’m gonna go shower.  you can leave if you’d like, or you can strip down naked and wait for me in bed.”
so i can finally fucking ravage you is the ending that he wishes to add, but he doesn’t want to scare you.
you’re taking a sip as he speaks, nearly spitting your drink out at his proposition.  however, you keep your composure and say nothing as he finishes his drink in one swift gulp and gets up from the couch, leaving a shivering feeling through your skin.
the second he leaves earshot, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. 
you’re fucked.
it’s like he knows the way you look at him in those minute moments when he leaves and returns from work. it’s like he knows that you continuously brag to your friends about how handsome he was.  it’s like he knows that you’ve said countless times that you’d jump him if you were ever given the chance.
but that was all just a silly little crush.  you never imagined that he would actually give you the opportunity.
he’d made you an offer you’d be downright stupid to refuse.
which is how you end up splayed in his bed, the cool air of the bedroom chilling your skin.  it was the obvious choice.  your chest rises and falls with anticipation.  the hopes of the man following through with his lewd offer brings on an ever-quickening heart rate.  you adjust your position again and again, hoping that each following pose will please him more than the last and help assuage the nervous feeling gnawing in your gut.
just as you chose the simple option to lay back against the pillows with your legs folded delicately together to one side, the shower turns off.  miguel doesn’t even bother drying off before he emerges from the bathroom in a dramatic billow of steam, wet gray-streaked hair tumbling into his face.  small droplets of water roll off his naked body and splatter against the floor.  the musky scent of his body wash hits your nose.  it makes you dizzy.  combined with the sight of him and the heavy alcohol rushing through your bloodstream, you’re completely susceptible to whatever plans he has in store.  you lose your breath at the sight of his tan, toned body approaching you.
“get on your hands and knees.”  the way he commands you is almost a detached sigh.  you don’t hesitate to obey, however.  without thinking, you get up from the position to poise yourself at the end of the bed in the way he ordered.  your heart speeds up, pounding against your ribcage.  this position already?  skipping to the main event?  you aren’t complaining, just surprised.
that feeling of surprise continues when you hear his knees heavily drop to the floor and his hands cup the globes of your ass and spread them apart.  the cold air hits that warm center and you gasp.  you gasp because the feeling is surprising and his lips press between your folds and you gasp because he groans so deeply at the first taste of you.
you’re fucked.
he takes no time to begin diving into every inch of your cunt.  you clutch at the bedsheets, wincing at the cold droplets from his hair running down the back of your thighs.
“mr… mr. miguel.”  you squeak, unable to muster up the brainpower to say anything else.  he works like it’s necessary for him to keep breathing, like he can’t wait to do anything else, like he’s starving, and you’re the first meal he’s come across in days.  
“is this okay?”  he finally pulls back, drawing a gasp from your lips at the cold air hitting that warm place again.  “just can’t… fuck… hold myself back.”
you make the mistake of craning your neck to meet his eyes at his panting candor.  his face just barely hovers above your ass, hands still spreading you apart.  you gulp at the sight of the shimmer of your essence on his lips.  he pants heavily, broad shoulders heaving with the force of his breath.  his eyes are gleaming, his pupils blown out with lust.  he looks fucking crazy, hair tumbling into his face.
you can feel your face heat up at the sight of him, feel your expression fall as you acknowledge again and again and again: you’re fucked.
a nod is all you can manage to urge him to continue.  you turn around and focus on the shiny silk pillows to ground yourself, bracing for the impact.
he merely grunts and dives back between your legs, splattering the last few drops remaining from his dewy skin onto you.  it takes everything in you not to collapse when he begins working with an increased fervor.  apparently, your words gave him great encouragement, as he intensified the movements, even daring to remove his lips from your folds to plant heavy, open-mouthed kisses on the backs of your thighs - and even daring to nip at the sensitive skin. 
before you know it, you sink down into the comforter, fingers whitening in a death grip on the sheets for support.  miguel doesn’t seem to notice - he’s too lost in the feeling of the increasing warmth on his tongue, of the blood rushing to where your body deems it to be.
just as you’re about to finish, he pulls back.  it draws a whimper from you, but before you can utter a word of complaint, he straightens up and begins to rub his length between the sticky wetness that welcomes him.  you whimper at the feeling, pushing your hips back against him as an invitation inside.  he wastes no time in accepting, pushing into you once he’s amply coated. 
your eyes bulge out of your head and you cry out a stilted moan as he doesn’t stop - not until he’s fully sheathed in you.  you sink down fully into the mattress, only supported by his hands when they grasp your waist to hold your lower body upright.  the beginnings of claws begin to poke into the meat of your hips.  overwhelming feelings circulate through every part of your body.  your mind begins to fog over.  you can’t differentiate the feeling from the alcohol or the pleasure; they work in tandem.
he doesn’t waist time to begin thrusting into you, more surely than he’s done anything in his life.  the rhythm is slow, but deep, and it drives you over the edge in no time.  since he left you hanging from the ministrations of his mouth, the movements of his length deep within you shove you over the precipice of pleasure.
“miguel… please, don’t stop.”  you whimper.  your eyes roll into the back of your head and you feel a great weight press into your back.  his lips appear on the shell of your ear.
“don’t hold back for me, bunny,” is the whisper.  “let go.”
you do as you're told, whimpers muffled against the mattress as you give into the pleasure, squeezing and convulsing around his length.  he licks behind your ear before nibbling on the lobe, drawing an extended moan that takes your breath away.  you can’t muster up any words - no praise, no thanks.  just incoherent sounds that express the feelings that you can’t articulate with the onslaught of pressure.
"mi conejita..."
miguel continues to rut into you like a wild animal.  his body presses flush against your back as his hips move, only going deeper and deeper as he jerks them back and forth.  there’s no relief, no breaks you get from his demanding size, from his desire to puncture you deeper and deeper until he finds his own sense of relief.
just as you finish, you think there will be a moment in the trembling of your legs that miguel will spare you.  however, you’re wrong.  the feeling of you constricting around him ignites a new passion in him, one that results in his lips meeting your neck, your shoulders, your back - one that draws his teeth into your skin.
a gasp escapes at the feeling of him nibbling on that sensitive skin, of the feeling of his hips continuing to mercilessly ram into yours.  you don’t want him to stop.  your hands clutch as the sheets, begging for some stability from the bed, but it doesn’t come.
instead, miguel’s hands wrap around your chest to pull you up as he straightens up.  his grip tigthens as you settle pressed against his sweating, heavily chest.  when you’re secured, his hands begin to move.  first and foremost, they grab your chin to face him and without hesitation, his lips crash against yours.  his fingers squeeze your jaw to pry it open and his tongue shoves down your throat.  you whimper against him.  he eats the sound whole.
his hands don’t stop once they leave your chin, trusting that your lips won’t leave his.  they reach down to pinch and pull your nipples, wander down to rub slow circles into your poor overstimulated clit.  the sound of his hips slapping against your raw skin is overwhelming, you can’t help but lean back into his chest for support, his tongue still craving the inside of your mouth.  he grunts in surprise when you start to suck his tongue desperately.  the sound simmers in his chest as he chuckles.
“you’re gonna be the death of me, little girl.”
you find yourself smiling, find yourself squeezing him as he moves inside, threatening to tear your insides apart.
“fuck,” he moans into your mouth.  “christ, you’re tight.”
you moan and whine into his mouth, and he devours those sounds as well.  the vibrations only spur him forward, only egg him on to continue ramming his hips into your body.  his fingers rub unceasingly against your increasingly sensitive clit.
“i’m gonna-” you manage to slur around his overpowering tongue and teeth.  “i’m gonna cum again.”
he groans, lowly and long.  it’s a lewd sound, one that sends all the heat from your body straight down between your legs.  it’s an encouragement, one that sends you over the edge within a split second.  you moan, legs shaking as you begin to collapse onto the bed again.  you can’t help the weakness, can’t help the fact that your legs turn to jelly as he rams into you with want and need that you can’t even begin to fathom.
you squeal as a fresh spurt of juices flow from your cunt, flow around his length, and down your inner thighs.
he swears again at the sensation of liquid beginning to run down his length, trickling down his own legs.  “shit… shit… i-i need that.  i need you to do that again.”
he pants and pulls out.  you gasp at the empty feeling, but he doesn’t give you much time to process it fully before he lays down on the bed and snatches your waist, pulling you over to align your hips with his face.  before you can utter a word of objection or acceptance, he yanks you into his face, burying himself in the warm grave of your cunt.
you throw your head back and moan weakly, tired and overstimulated from the last orgasms, but he doesn’t stop.  his ministrations are unyielding, even when you plant your hands against his hips to steady yourself.  his hard length stands in front of you, just barely out of reach of your mouth.  you can’t help yourself from drooling at the sight, of precum spilling from the tip and mixing with your juices that still dribble down the veins.
you try to move forward, but he pulls your hips back stubbornly, shoving his tongue into you.  you whimper, opting you reach your hand out to wrap around and pump his length until you can get your mouth on the impressive sight.  he slows as he realizes what you want to do.  he knows how much bigger he is than you.  he slides up the pillows to sit up, closing the distance between you and your prize until your lips suckle on the tip, drawing a hiss from him.  as if an attempt to silence the sound, his teeth sink into your asscheck.
“fuck,” you groan as the teethmarks in your skin join the bitemarks he left on your neck, back, and shoulders, still fresh and throbbing.  you attempt to shake off the feeling and start to bob your mouth up and down on his length, drooling over the musky taste of his precum when your tongue trails down the base, every vein drawn like a map under your tongue.
he doesn’t let you indulge yourself for long before he jerks your hips back against his face once more, drawing your mouth from his length with a soft pop.  you moan in indignation, attempting to lunge back to continue your work.  however, miguel’s grip on your hips, the nails beginning to dig in the muscles, successfully stops you.
instead, you pump down his shaft, hoping that you’re pleasing him as much as he’s pleasing you.  another wave of pleasure rolls over you, and you can’t help but whine at the vibration of miguel’s moans as he gulps down the juices that flow heartily from your center.  his dick twitches in your palm.
“please…” you whimper.  “please fuck me… please…”
“no” is the simple answer.  “you’re cumming on my face, mi conejita.” 
your cheeks heat at his unashamed lewdness, at how he so easily expresses his desire for you.  how long had he been feeling his way?  how long had he wanted to ravish you like this?  he seems so resigned to his desires that he just can’t help himself anymore.
he gets his wish soon enough, pulling you so far onto him that his nose dips into your entrance, triggering an explosion of pleasure within you.  he groans as your legs begin to shake around his face, as you give up on pumping his shaft because you can’t focus on anything else but not losing your mind at how good he makes you feel. 
miguel doesn’t give you a reprieve in his agenda, slapping your ass twice to signal a position change before you can even catch your breath.
“get up,” he growls, and you obey.  he pushes you down on the bed in his place - the pillows are still warm from where he sat, still damp from the juices running freely down his face and jawline to soak the sheets.  without hesitation, he grips your calves and throws them over his shoulders.  you’re completely powerless underneath him when he pushes into you fully, not waiting a split second to begin ramming into you, even deeper than before.
it’s nearly unbearable, especially when he grabs your wrists, crosses them with a single hand, and holds them over your head before his lips crash onto yours.  your moans pour into his mouth, and he takes them without a second thought, returning them with equal fervor.  each pound of his hips forces water droplets from his damp hair onto your shaking body.  the way he presses down into you, the way the weight of him presses your thighs against your chest, the stretch aching, the opening angle of your hips for him to ram deeper into your warmth… it’s too much.
tears bead at the corners of your eyes when you open them to find him watching your face, even as he’s shoving his tongue down your throat.  you feel the corners of his mouth turn up into a smile at the sight of you so weak with want, with desire.  he looks fucking feral.
he pulls back, watching your reaction as he turns his head to press sloppy kisses to your calves, nipping at the skin.  welting bumps appear under his mouth, like he’s decorating you in just the fashion he likes.  when he’s finished, his lips crash onto yours again.  he doesn’t stop, doesn’t show mercy, not even when you’re babbling for him to continue, to push you over the edge once more.
“i gotta…” he pants, finally drawing back from your lips to examine your whole body shaking against the rough motion of his hips bulldozing into you.  a single line of spit still joins your lips.  “i gotta taste you still… fuck.”
he thinks for a moment before his fingers dive between your folds, gathering an ample amount of essence before he raises them to your mouth, spreading the liquid across your lips.  you can barely function at the lewd sight, even when he presses his fingers into your mouth, leading your tongue to swish around them and lap up every last drop.  his face contorts when your lips close around his digits, sucking his digits dry.
his mouth crashes against yours, exploring every bud in your mouth with renewed fervor at the flavor of your cunt all throughout your mouth.  you realize he had let go of your hands and you use the freedom to latch your nails into his back, clawing it to ribbons.  he thrusts into you with refreshing vigor, spurred by the satisfaction of your taste, at your nails sinking into his skin, and the warm, pulsing feeling of your cunt around his length at the same time.  he doesn’t last long, doesn’t make it much more time before he moans and whimpers into your mouth, warm cum spilling into you.  he removes his mouth from your kiss bitten lips and opts to bite into your neck, so hard you’re afraid you’ll bleed - but it’s enough to send you tumbling over the edge with him.  but it doesn’t matter, not when he’s groaning against you, fucking the last bit of himself into you, slowing his hips more and more.
when he’s finally finished, you squeeze your arms around him, removing your nails from his skin, welcoming him an embrace for him to collapse into.  he accepts the invitation graciously, his full weight pressing upon you as your legs fall from their position on either side of his hips.
he sighs into your neck, into the satisfying feeling of his cum beginning to ooze from your warmth, down your ass, spilling onto the bed.  there’s a few moments of wordlessness, the only sound echoing the room is breathless panting.
“well, consider this payment for watching gabi tonight?”
you laugh at his offhanded comment that breaks the silence and press a kiss onto his heaving shoulders.
“no, i’m still expecting the same rate.”
“in this economy?  times are changing, sweetheart.”  he raises his head to meet your eyes as you laugh.  “i hear this is the new salary.  don’t tell me you’re that opposed.”
“i’m not… of course not.”  you laugh nervously.  he chuckles at the sight of you getting so flustered.  he swiftly rises, pulling out of you so fast that you barely have time to process it before he gets warm rags and towels from the bathroom.
he comes back and kisses your forehead gently, wiping the residue of the wild night from your body.  it’s a tender gesture, one that you didn’t expect from the rugged creature.  however, it’s not unwelcome.
“well, if you’d like to stick with me, i’m sure there will be some benefits in the future, if you’re willing to stay on.”  he pauses and grins.  “and it’ll be nice to have you here in bed in case i get called out in the middle of the night. you always sound so pissed at me when i call to wake you up.”  
he dries off your wet skin with a towel before letting all of the material fall to the ground, forgotten.  his body curls around you, the overwhelming size and warmth of him surrounding you.
you smirk, letting out a giggle at the continuation of the joke, heat pooling in your cheeks from the easy closeness he pursues with you.  “of course, mr. o’hara.  i don’t think anyone else could match such a wonderful deal.”
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columjoe · 10 months
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Pls tell abt your Joe and Columbo headcanons? 👀
Thank you for your ask Anon :) I have quite a few headcanons for Joe and Columbo :) The main one being that I like to think that they met once (or maybe more than once) when they were younger. I think this is very possible with what we know in canon about their characters. Columbo grew up in New York and we get to hear his lovely family anecdotes throughout the series including in this episode. One of the first things Columbo says to Joe is the pinball reminds him of going to the corner candy store when he was a kid. Joe also fled to New York as a kid when he escaped from prison. So it could be possible that they met when they were both kids. Maybe just briefly or maybe they became friends. That could be why they have such a connection in the episode - they maybe aren't aware of it but they've met before.
This could even be alluded to in canon when Columbo says they have met before even if it was just Columbo seeing Joe doing his show without Joe realising. This is fascinating to me too as Columbo seems genuinely impressed with Joe and not just flattering him.
More like flirting tbh :) Then later when they are playing darts together at the Irish pub the story of Sergeant Gilhooley - his sergeant back when Columbo first joined the NYPD is shared. This is one of the few times we hear Columbo specifically reference that part of his life. I think it's really significant and shows how he's comfortable enough with Joe and prepared to share these little things about himself and his background. And he does it in such a way that's natural, friendly and warm and doesnt come over as just a ploy or distraction as it does with other suspects throughout the series. Joe too shares little pieces of his background. We don't get to read his book like Columbo does (although imagining what's in there would make great fanfic and headcanons) but we get a lot alluded to over the episode. It gives the viewer lots of scope to fill the blanks in themselves which is another reason I love this episode and this pairing. There is just so much subtext!!!! :) We hear Joes tales told in public with humour but when he talks to Columbo about being a kid alone on the streets of New York he becomes sad and distant for a moment as he remembers before his ready smile returns. This is a glimpse of the sadness beneath his outwardly jovial self. I think he had suffered real trauma and lost some of his family to the conflict. And that can also be a reason for his drinking. Trying to cope. And also for why he feels so strongly for his cause. I see Joe being taken in by the O'Connells first as a worker and then as an ally and this is why I think he is loyal to them. It isn't stated as such in the episode but I see Kerry as Joes nephew and his mother as Joes sister. And I see him being very protective over him to the point where Joe would definitely go to jail to spare Kerry and keep him safe. I also have thoughts about Joe and Kerry being a cute little found family with Columbo and Dog. And sometimes with Columbo's wife who I see as more his childhood bestie in my universe. I love Joe's collection of floofy jumpers and I think Columbo does too :) They are so snuggly. The way the episode ends with that whole hand holding 'we are getting engaged' scene and Joe's offer for Columbo to 'join him ' and Columbo actually accepting - it just gives me so many thoughts :) So many directions this could go in post-canon. In my 'verse where Joe gets a redemption arc and gets to use his writing and fundraising for peaceful, healing purposes I can see them going on little adventures and even Joe helping out on Columbo's cases. Like Columbo's wife gets to do in canon but Joe is helping out and being a sounding board actually on screen :) This would be my little spin off series:) I can picture them together in Joes lovely little house near the beach (which is one of my favourite houses in the series btw as it's not too fancy and just matches Joes personality perfectly) A beautiful sunset over the sea and Joe doing some writing while snuggled up with Columbo and Dog on the sofa or in their little garden. I see them sharing coffee in the mornings, going for walks along the beach with Dog, getting an ice-cream together, talking through cases or about Joes latest book…..
So many possibilities…… I just can't see any other suspect going bowling with Columbo but Joe so would. Perfect date night………bowling, dinner of chilli, then darts and drinks in the pub :) We actually get these lunch and drink dates in canon so we are blessed :) I love that we get a Columbo and suspect relationship that is on a more equal footing. They both even know that the other knows Joe did it but they are still just so friendly with each other and genuinely enjoy each others company. I love the chemistry between the characters and the actors. It made me seek out other films and shows that Clive Revill has done and he is such a lovely, talented and interesting person too. I love the subtext. There are just so many fascinating choices made throughout the episode from a shipping point of view……. To name but a few……. The whole first meeting with the pinball, crawling around on the floor together, the resting on the beds together, the lunch date, the casual hugs and touches, the sharing of their respective backgrounds, the pub crawl date complete with moonlit stroll and romantic backdrop, the hand holding over the table in the last scene…….etc…… It's just impossible not to ship :) And fun to put the characters in different situations. Being cute and fluffy together. Columbo has always been a special show to me because of childhood memories and the character is so wonderful. And with my fangirl gaze that just picks up any kind of subtext and runs with it - it was inevitable I'd eventually ship him with Joe. The case can be made with other suspects through the series of course and I can see that too….. But these two will always be my OTP of the series. I have so many ships that I love but these two were one of the first. And one of the only ones with hardly any content online (this was before Columbo became popular on Tumblr). So I thought I'd remedy that by creating a lil sideblog :)
Sorry for rambling on…….I was just so excited to answer an ask! Thank you again Anon :) Please feel free to ask anything else about what I've written here or anything at all about these two! Also please feel free to share your own headcanons for Columbo and Joe! Id really love to hear them :)
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hyunverse · 1 year
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ur so right that totally makes sense. i am such a hopeless romantic and i swear that’s one of the things that makes me so attracted to hyunjin. like he’s just so emotionally intelligent yk ?? he just gets it. and i love that he shows his love for things (love itself specifically) through his artwork. i’ve always done the same so it’s so nice to have an idol that i feel like is so similar to me yk? he’s 100% a man written by a woman
okay it’s also wednesday where i am and i’m in the est time zone so we’re or 13 hours apart i think ??? i know absolutely nothing about time zones but i know that’s in the uk LOL (which is so cool btw. i have a lot of family in the uk bc my dad is an immigrant from australia and his parents were immigrants from the uk and malta) ALSO so cool you’re also an older sibling, how many siblings do you have? i have two bio and three half ^_^ and def never hurts to ask imo 😏 skz is skz 😏
you made me blush 🤭🤭 i feel like i could talk to you about anything too. even tho we literally just met i’m already so comfy w you. what’s ur zodiac sign ?? that always makes more sense for me when i get along so well w ppl >:)
AND YES CAN WE PLS TALK ABOUT HYUNJIN W THE PIERCINGS 😩. listen, edited or not, the tongue piercing is gonna do it for me every time. and then. the surprise belly button one. dude. i screamed. AND STRAWBERRY BLONDE MINHO PLS BRING IT HERE. and yes seungmin at mama awards was so good like we need to see more forehead from him. it always makes him look older i feel like, which is such a good thing bc i can find him sexy instead of just absolutely adorable. in the recent racha vlog w the maknaes, i was actually baffled at how effortlessly perfect seungs hair is. like he just flicks it back and it looks like it took 45 mins to style it ??? how ??? and why not me ??? blue hyune and seungmin would kill me. but i will say, if we got blue han again…. i don’t think i’d survive. like genuinely i would pass out. and yes let’s pls go on a little expedition and raid all their shampoo so we can get what we want 😇😇😇
- 🐈‍⬛
ME TOO STOP I'M LIKE, THE BIGGEST HOPELESS ROMANTIC I KNOW LOL i'm the type to write love letters and i feel like hyunjin would get me. i long to receive love letters tbh ☹️ i've never received flowers. i've never received even a love note without having to beg for it and it SUCKS. so i decided to screw men and stan hwang hyunjin instead <3 call me a girlboss or wtv!!!
13 HOURS APART??? i'll cry RN. me and my beloved moots always have such huge timezone difference, not u too my love </3 the universe is unfair </3 ooo is it snowing rn where u are? my british oomfs' places r snowing and god, it seems so magical to me. malaysia doesn't experience the four seasons, so i've never experienced neither winter or autumn lol. alwaaays summer here. i've always dreamt of studying in the uk, oxford or cambridge specifically. hopefully i'll get to one day! reaaaally wanna experience snow hehe. i have two siblings!! a little brother and a little sister. they are a pain in my ass but i'd give my kidney to them tbh. u have quite a lot of siblings omg T_T how do u cope T_T
AAA I'M SOFTT U R SO CUTE <3__<3 i'm a leo! i'm not really one to believe in astrology but i will listen 2 any of ur rambles abt it hehe.
NO CS LIKE WHEN I SAW THE BELLY BUTTON PIERCING. I. HAD. TO. PAUSE. WAS FLABBERGASTED AND STARING AT THE SCREEN LIKE? HWANG HYUNJIN? WHAT IS THIS BEHAVIOUR? JHDNJHBD AND it's so funny that ure mentioning seungmin's forehead too cs like, jokingly (maybe not really jokingly) i put "i want to see more of seungmin's forehead" as my new years resolution ^__^ it's a valid resolution ok. i gotta do what i gotta do 🤓 the racha log was so heart-warming 🥹 just our boys being boys. playing games together. super duper wholesome, i melted at the sight, especially jeongin 🥹 baby bread just eating some fries while playing. so so endearing. ure right, seungmin's hair is effortlessly beautiful. wonder how it would be like to run my fingers through his hair. . . 💭 lets go im driving to da cuties dorm and we are gonna blast skz the whole time, baby!
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hashafasha03 · 2 years
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THIs IS THE MADRIGAL SISTERS DYNAMIC POST MOVIE
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COME ON LOOK AT THIS PHOTO
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HOW IS IT NOT THEIR DYNAMIC
24K notes · View notes
bonny-kookoo · 3 years
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Under Your Skin (JJK x Reader) | 🔞
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Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Goth/Punk!Jeon Jungkook x Secretary!Shy!Reader
Genre: Tattoo artist!AU, Badboy x Sweetgirl AU, Idk what else
Tags/Warnings: Ultimate goodboy Kook, He looks grr but is actually sweet, shy reader, smol reader, Kookers is WHIPPED, Also a tease, Dom!Jungkook because how could I not, Sub!Reader, Babygirl!Reader, Its not heavy on the whole ddlg-stuff but yeah they be having some vibes y'know, don't come @ me don't I'm not forcing you to read it lol, anyways moving on, because smut, yes I mean it's my content, and yall nasty admit it, slight hair pulling, manhandling also only a little, oral (f & m receiving), praising, mentions of emotional and physical insecurities, but Kook be supportive so we good, back to the nasty, body worship yes pls, biting, fingering, because why not, protected sex because we keep it clean in this household, light-hearted sex, kook being a romantic goof, yeah I think thats it?
Summary: Jungkook looks like absolute trouble; like one wrong look could set him off, and turn him into an absolute murderer. But oh well, ever heard the phrase 'Never judge a book by its cover'?
A/N: you might have noticed me only putting one emoji up top. I have decided to from now on only mark my adult fics with emojis (which is basically almost every single one lets be real). Also; stop reading my fucking fics if any of the tagged/warned things make you uncomfortable. I'm tired of everyone clowning in my inbox telling me how disgusting ddlg/smut content is. You can't even tell me you 'read it by accident' because that's why I'm always putting the cut underneath my fics =) so pls go finish preschool and then we can maybe shake hands. Maybe not. Covid and all. Yeah.
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On the outside, Jeon Jungkook seems like absolute trouble.
He's working at a tattoo and piercing studio, dresses in all black, clattering chains and heavy boots always alerting everyone around of his presence. His long black hair is never truly tamed, his nails painted black, and his face expressionless most of the time. He's a talented artist and well trained piercer, always visiting conventions to keep up with the newest trends, styles, and equipment there is. He takes his job seriously- and is proud of it, knowing that he had proven his family wrong by now. They had been worried about him; especially his mother had scolded him that he shouldn't throw his time away trying to make it in a world of art many had already failed. But last year, he had finally invited them over to his rather nice apartment, showing them that he was living a good life, with nothing to really worry about.
Jungkook had made it.
Well, not quite.
Because as of currently, Jungkook had a new mission, a new goal.
"Ah, Jungkook!" You say, eyes sparkling as you smile at him when he enters the shop he works at. You had recently started to work there as well, since Taehyung was absolute shit at keeping files in order and track of schedules. You hadn't applied for the job specifically, that's at least what his coworker had told him- he had known you prior already, and was aware that you had wanted a change these days.
And Jungkook had been painfully crushing on you ever since you started.
"Your schedule for the week is already here- I uhm.. didn't put it on your desk cause, I didn't want to intrude your space and all.." You say, giving him a small black booklet where you always noted down his appointments. He appreciated it a lot- knowing how much of a hassle it could be to move dates back and forth just to somehow make it fit. You always made sure that he had enough time in between multiple daily pieces in case something took longer or less so you could make sure to be able to move things accordingly. You didn't want him to get overworked, you had said. He had smiled.
"Thanks- and you can go inside, no problem." He says, and you nod. "I know you don't make a mess, like someone else here." He says, hinting at Namjoon, who was known to be quite clumsy- yet a mastermind when it came to designing pieces he struggled with. Jungkook stayed at your front desk for a bit, making you tilt your head a bit, as you tried not to stare. He always took so much care of himself, you would have had to be blind not to see how attractive he actually was. But then again, you didn't get your hopes up- after all, he was nice to almost everyone around. "You've never been in there, right?" He asks, and you shake your head. You haven't been in his space at all- too scared to invade his privacy and making him upset in the process. "I mean- you got time right now? I can show you around." He casually tells you, and you look at your computer screen in front of you. Everything had been filed for today- so you probably had a bit of time to spare.
"Sure." You said, taking your phone and standing up from your chair, making sure to lock the pc so no one would accidentally make a mess out of your tabs. Or worse; close them. God knows all hell would break loose.
Jungkook had to really force himself not to let out any noise as you walked next to him.
You were so tiny next to him.
He wasn't that tall to be honest- with Namjoon and Taehyung both taller than him, he knew he was average at best. And for the longest time, he'd had a thing for tall girls, all elegant and confident. He still liked their aesthetic, yes- but now that he spotted you, he could really see the appeal of having a shorter significant other.
You were so cute.
You carefully stepped inside when Jungkook lifted the curtain that was used instead of a door, surprised to see how.. organized everything was. A little.. off- some things seemed to be randomly put somewhere, but in general, it seemed like everything had their proper spot. "I like to have it like this." He comments, and you nod your head to that, finally spotting his tattoo-gun. It was made out of purple steel- polished, and changing its hue depending on how you looked at it. It was absolutely beautiful, even though you had a rather limited understanding of these things. "Was a present from Taehyung last year." Jungkook says, sitting down on his chair. "I never asked- are you inked at all?" He asks, leaning backwards as you stand there a little awkwardly. "You can sit down somewhere, don't be so tense." He chuckles, and you look around, before you sit on the stretcher across from him. You shake your head, and Jungkook isn't surprised. Your pink converse sway back and forth as you sit on the stretcher, legs too short to reach the floor anymore as you rest your hands underneath your thighs; hem of your dress revealing more of them than he can usually see.
"I don't have any tattoos yet, but I've been talking to Namjoon about it." You said, and Jungkooks saliva tastes a little bitter at that. He doesn't want to pout or give away that it's bugging him at all that you're not talking to him about it- but he fails miserably. "Namjoon actually said I should talk to you about it, since the style I want fits you best." You say, and he can't hide his smile, bunny teeth on full display as he leans forward a bit.
"You'd let me tattoo you?" He asks, and you shrug, before nodding. "What do you have in Mind?" He instantly asks, not even bothering to hide his excitement.
If only you knew that it's because of you; and not just because he's gonna be the first to ink you.
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You've both agreed on a design you want, and Jungkook can't deny that he thinks it's absolutely perfect on you.
"Are you scared?" Jungkook asks you as he prepares everything, his sweater's sleeves rolled up, revealing his own body art to you, as well as some bracelets; one that you recognize as the wooden-bead bracelet you had gifted him last year for his birthday. It was weird to see him wear it.
"I.. no. Just nervous." You say. "I'm worried I might cry and make a fool out of myself." You say with a laugh, and Jungkook chuckles, placing a reassuring and warm hand on your upper arm.
"It's fine. I've seen grown man cry like kids on this stretcher before." He casually says. "Don't worry; I won't think any less of you just because of some tears." He says with a smile, and you nod, turning your head to look at his room's walls instead; covered in drawings, sketches, and pictures of finished works he was most proud of. "Do you want anything to hold onto?" He asks, as he starts to shave the skin of your thigh to make sure he can work as best as possible. He's so into his work, so concentrated on doing everything perfect, that he doesn't even take much into account that you're laying in only your panties and oversized sweater; skirt neatly placed on a chair in the corner of the room, to get it out of the way.
"It's fine" You mumble, although you really want to. So instead you curl your fingers around the fabric of your sweater- something that doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook, who decides not to comment on it for now. He simply throws the one-time razor away as well as the tissues used to clean your skin, before he carefully places the tracing paper onto where he seems fit.
"I think it would look great right here." He says lowly, carefully removing the paper to reveal the lines he's gonna trace with his gun in a few minutes. "You wanna look at it again?" He asks, and you shake your head. "Alright." He says, before he gets up and walks out his room; only to return with your small squishy and round unicorn plush that's usually sitting on your desk. "To hold onto." He winks, and you chuckle at that.
Jungkook really pays attention.
"So, Taehyung has told me you're a bit younger than me." Jungkook says to start casual chit-chat, trying to help your nervousness as his tattoo-gun starts to buzz to live. "Only a Year if I remember correctly." He says, and you nod.
"Yeah.." You say, and can't hide your dissapoinment flooding your voice. Jungkook, until now, only had relationships with girls older than him. He's even said before that he just likes having someone older than him around- which made you even more nervous around him.
"You sound upset about that." He chuckles, and gently holds onto your thigh as you jump a bit when he first presses the tip of the gun down. "Sorry. I'll be gentle." He lowly tells you, and you swallow.
Not the time Y/N, not the time.
"Uhm.." You say, fingers digging into the squishy plush in your hands. "I.. there's someone I like, but he.. only likes older girls, so.." You say, and Jungkook glances at you. You're already interested in someone? He continues to trace the lines, wiping afterwards to get the excess ink and blood off. "But I mean, then again I don't think I have a chance with him anyways." You chuckle, and Jungkook can't help but shake his head. Even if you're interested in someone else, he shouldn't let you have thoughts like that.
"Highly doubt that." He says. "If he doesn't see you, he's blind." He tells you, and you giggle, glad that he's able to make you feel a bit better about everything. "I'm serious." He says, and you nod at that, watching his inked arm flex every now and then as he draws with absolute concentration; black facemask hiding half of his face. You can see the way his eyebrows furrow, eyes fixated on his work as he moves with absolute routine. "Do I know the guy?" He casually asks, before he dips the tip of his gun in the tiny pot of ink again.
You don't know what to say.
He looks at you for a second, and decides not to dig. "You don't have to tell me. Sorry if I seemed nosy; didn't mean to." He apologizes, and you shake your head to let him know its fine. It's quiet for a moment afterwards, only the buzzing of his gun and your occasional whine of pain. "Sorry; it'll hurt a bit more now since I'm getting close to your inner thigh- that's always a little more sensitive." He comments, and you really hope he doesn't pay much attention to your panties.
When you can see his eyes stick to them for a second, you really want to just disappear.
He doesn't comment on it though. What is he suppsosed to say? He really doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, and considering that you already have a crush on someone else, he doesn't want to get himself in too deep as well. He simply works away, finally finishing the thin and delicate outlines of your piece- the first step, before he will see you again for color and shading. He finally connects the last line, and doesn't think twice about what he says next.
"Good girl."
It takes a second that feels way too long for the both of you to register the words, and Jungkook quickly occupies himself with turning off his gun and cleaning up your skin and his workspace to get the awkwardness out of his room. You try to instantly stand up, but his palm holds onto your leg- silently ordering you to stay put, which you do. He rubs something over the piece, before he gently lifts your leg to wrap it. "I'll give you a bottle of lotion for it. Leave that bandage on for.. I'd say until tomorrow morning at least. Afterwards, apply the lotion everyday to help it heal properly." He lectures you with a gentle voice, before letting you sit up.
"Thanks." You say, grinning eagerly at the now hidden artwork on your leg. Jungkook chuckles.
"We're not done yet, but I'll take it." He says. "I uh.." He starts, as you jump off the stretcher and go to take on your skirt. "uhm, you up for some fast food?" He asks, a bit hurried, before he can chicken out again. And he hates himself for a moment, because you had literally told him just half an hour before that you already had interest in someone else. But maybe you were too innocent to get his innuendo, maybe you wouldn't get that he was asking you on a date-
"Like a date?" You ask, and he really wants to hit himself.
"I mean, if you want it to be?" He says, swallowing as he averts his gaze, a sight very weird. His hand runs through his hair, chain around his neck and piercings on his ears clattering against each other and making sounds as he moves, his combat boots nervously tapping the floor a little. "It doesn't have to be.. I know you're already-"
"I'd love to." You say however, now fully dressed again, as you grin with your bright sparkling eyes.
And Jungkook feels like he's won the lottery.
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It's your third time laying on Jungkooks' stretcher like this- waiting for him to work on your art, finishing it today. But the energy is different.
Things are different between you two in general.
After some casual movie dates and rounds of overwatch, Jungkook had admitted to you that he had a crush. It was rushed, while he was driving, so he didn't have to look at you and instantly get hit by your reaction. But then, you had told him that you felt the same- and the two of you agreed to let things process from then on. Whatever would happen; you would let happen.
And Jungkook was starting to flirt with you.
It was a little weird to get close to him like that. While everyone seeing you two was a little taken aback- with your dresses and skirts, and colorful and almost childish personality, he seemed like the absolute opposite- quiet, all dark and dangerous while carrying your milkshake so you could put your phone away into your purse.
"Alright doll, let's finish this." He said with newfound enthusiasm, winking at you as you laughed at his demeanor.
"You seemed more excited than me!" You say, and he chuckles. "You're really desperate to have me gone?" You say in a playfully upset tone, and he simply huffs out a breath, before cockily looking at you for a second.
"That's not true." He says. "I'd just rather have you laid out somewhere else than in my studio, that's all." He casually says, and you shut your mouth at that, cheeks red as he laughs at your cute display of embarrassment. He routinely prepares your skin, before he starts his gun. "Too much?" He asks, and you know he's not talking about the pressure of his ink filled gun on your skin.
"No-" You start, and he now seriously speaks to you, voice a bit muffled through his facemask.
"Please tell me if I ever make you uncomfortable." He says. "You're not upsetting me if you tell me I'm going to far." He says, and you nod, knowing that he now needs a proper answer. Jungkook is way more attentive and romantic than people may think he is. He's a gentleman pulled out of a dictionary- careful and gentle with you, and always keen on getting to know you for you, and not for the person you like to portray yourself as. He wants to know what you like, what you don't like, what you dream of, and what you hate about yourself.
"Don't worry- I will." You say, watching him work on your skin. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums a reply to let you know he's listening. "Is it okay if I sleep?" You ask, and he chuckles.
"Didn't I tell you not to stay up for too long before I left yesterday?" He teasingly retorts back to you, and you pout at him- with no hard feelings behind it. He had left last night after eating with you for dinner at your place; and he did indeed tell you to go to sleep a little earlier since he knew you would have an early shift today, opening up the store. "I'm really tempted to say no." He says, eyes now on your skin again as he dips the tip of his gun in a pot of color. "You know, as punishment for not listening." He mumbles, and you almost don't catch it.
Almost.
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"Jungkook?" Taehyung stands in his doorway, finally finding him sitting at his desk. "Oh?" He says in a surprised tone, spotting your sleeping figure on his coworkers lap- head resting against the inside of his shoulder, with your arms around his middle.
"Yeah?" Jungkook asks, not at all shy or fazed by the fact that Taehyung is looking at you. "What is it?" He asks again, as Taehyung smiles, giving the younger man his small booklet that you usually give him every morning.
"Nothing left for today." He said. "Just wanted to tell you good work and send you home." The older one explains, zipping up his own jacket. "Guess she'll be coming with you?" He asks teasingly, but Jungkook doesn't bite the bait at all.
"Yeah. Don't burn the house down while we're gone, you two. " He says, slipping the booklet into his pocket before he pats your back. "Come on doll, let's go home." He tells you, waking you up at least enough to put on your shoes and lead you out the store to his car.
He buckles your seatbelt as the engine comes alive, radio playing its tune softly in the background as he drives you home. "You awake doll?" He asks, and you nod your head, turning towards him with barely open eyes. "You haven't had anything proper to eat today, so I'll make us some ramen at my place, ok?" He asks, and you nod, before your eyebrows scrunch up. "What is it?" He chuckles, and you now grow more awake.
"Wait- but if we eat at yours then you're gonna have to drive me home late." You say, and he shrugs. "Noo, Kook, what if you crash the car because you're sleepy?" You tell him with a whine, genuinely concerned for him, as he has the audacity to laugh. "Kookie, it's not funny I swear to god-!" You say, and he apologizes.
"I mean." He starts, casually dropping what he had wanted to ask you for a couple of weeks now. "You could always just stay over." He tells you, and you look at him, meeting his gaze at the red light he stops at, his head turned towards you for a moment until the lights turn green again.
"We.. would have to stop at mine so I could get some stuff though.." You mumble, and Jungkook looks at you with newfound enthusiasm, setting his turning lights to enter a different road.
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It's in a parking lot that you first unintentionally confront him with your biggest insecurities and flaws.
You've tripped over a stray stone you didn't see laying on the ground, leading you to fall onto your hands and scraping your knees open. Just like any normal human being, you dust yourself off, instantly hoping that Jungkook inside the shop hadn't seen you fail at something so basic as walking. You had carried some of the items you two had bought into the car while also returning the shopping cart while he had payed- and by the look on his face, he had definitely seen you.
He wasn't laughing, or hiding his grin, or anything alike. He looked concerned, taking his card back from the cashier before walking out the store, jogging towards you, who sat in the open trunk, ready to get laughed at. Even though somewhere deep in your mind you didn't think he would, past experiences had led to you now having that fear, no matter with whom. "Are you okay?" Jungkook asks, looking at you as he squats down to take a look at your bleeding knees. He reaches into one of the shopping bags, taking out a water bottle and a pack of tissues, before he wets it, one hand holding your leg by the backside of your knee, while the other carefully cleans the small wound. "You gotta be careful Baby." He chuckles a little- nothing like the laughter you had expected.
"I'm fine." You say, not looking up at him.
"It's okay to cry, you know?" He says, and you stay quiet, trying not to breathe too much as you desperately hold them back. "I won't laugh." He promises, deciding not to look at you as to give you a bit more space.
"People will stare though.." You quietly murmur towards him, and he finishes his job, before he goes to throw the now used tissue away in a nearby trashcan. When he returns, he's taking his jacket off, the item way too large on your form as he throws it over you, pulling the hood up as you look at him for the first time since your little accident, eyes sparkling with unshed tears when he pulls the sides of the hood towards him a little. "There." He says, a reassuring smile on his face. "Now no one can see you but me." He tells you. "And I will never, ever, laugh at you." He promises, and pulls your head against his chest, as you start to let go.
He really hates to see you cry- but he's glad that you're letting him in enough to let him see you this way.
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Jungkook is frustrated.
He tries not to really show it, because he doesn't want to blow up in your face like that, but then again, you're kind of the reason he feels the way he does. Because even though he thought you both had a genuine connection, you're yet to let him touch you.
And not just hugging and holding hands.
It's not that he's impatient- its because he knows you, at one point, wanted him that way as well. But something happened, something he didn't notice, that made you take ten steps backwards from him. You seemed to be retreating, giving up, and he has no idea what he had done to make you react that way.
As far as he knows, he had done everything right.
But then he sees them; the messages sent back and forth between you and Hana, a returning customer at the shop- well known to flirt with everyone around here. Jungkook himself had actually considered hooking up with her once a year back, simply to make her shut up, but then again, he wasn't into one-night-stands. And she had never truly been his type anyways.
'Ah yeah, just re-schedule that then, I don't mind at all! Just make sure we have enough time together, since we haven't had time to catch up on things recently, if you know what I mean.' She had sent, a week ago; exactly the timeframe you had started to distance yourself. He knew he shouldn't look into it, but then again- this was his business too. He had the right to know.
'Sure? I can give you an appointment at around 4 PM then, so you'll be the last one. Would that be okay with you? Again, sorry for re-scheduling on such short notice.' You had written, and Jungkook can't decide if you had been oblivious to her implication (which was bullshit), or if you were simply too polite to call her out. But it's the next messages that make him fume.
'Again, no troubles. As I said, I only care that its Jungkookie, I don't really trust anyone else with my body that way ;). 4 PM is perfect, you guys still close at around 6 PM right? He's got skilled hands, I'm sure we don't need much more time, if you know what I mean.' she has the audacity to write.
But its your answer that makes him fume.
'Good to know.'
"Jungkook?" You say, looking at the screen, as you suddenly dash forwards, trying to shut the screen off- as if that would make any difference. But he catches your wrist with ease, holding it in his palm as he looks at you.
"Do you think I'm sleeping with her?" He asks, and you try to escape his grasp; and he lets you, staying at your workspace however as he keeps you locked in place with his gaze. "Y/N." He urges, making you look away from him.
"It's none of my business." You say, shrugging. "I.. No, it's-" You start, but he cuts you off.
"No, finish that sentence. 'No' what?" He says, and you've never heard him talk like that.
"I just.. didn't think you'd.. do that." You meekly say, murmuring it as he tilts your head gently upwards to look at him; his face now more relaxed as he softly smiles.
"That's good that you think that way." He tells you. "Because I don't do that at all." He says. "She likes to start drama all the time- was probably bitter I turned her down so much. You know what?" He suddenly says, turning towards the screen as he clicks to change the account, opening his own Inbox as he starts to write an E-Mail.
'Appointment is cancelled, be glad I'm not suing you for defamation. JK.'
"Jungkook-" You say, trying to get him not to send it- but it's already gone. "Why would you do that? Just because I misunderstood?" You whine, and he chuckles, shutting down the system as he looks at the clock, signaling that it's closing time.
"No." He says. "But because I don't want her around anyways, and this gives me a proper reason." He tells you, ruffling your hair as he looks at you. "You coming?" He asks, and you nod, taking your bag and coat before following him out the shop.
In the car, you finally speak up. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums out a reply. "Do you.. think I'm attractive?" You ask, and he clears his throat at the unexpected question.
"I- what?" He asks, unsure what you mean.
"Just.. Namjoon said, that he thinks you.. see me as a friend only? Because I'm nothing like the girls you dated before.. If I misunderstood something here then Oh my god-" You start to ramble, and Jungkook laughs suddenly.
"You think I'm not into you?" He asks, and you shrug. "Of course I want to fuck you doll." He casually comments, and you can't help but feel your cheeks redden. "Wait- did you really think I didn't?" He asks, face showing genuine horror as he looks over at you.
"I mean.. you never really initiated anything so I thought.." You started, and he groans out.
Thank god you're staying the night.
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"Looks so pretty, does it?" He hums out, palm running over the tattoo on your thigh, delicate lines and well-placed shadings complimenting the colors perfectly. "You know why I love it most?" He starts, hand suddenly gripping the flesh for a moment, before he pulls you closer on his lap by the small of your back. "Because that's mine." He says, before he leans in, placing an open mouthed kiss against your pulse. "The ink that's under your skin, the design, the idea-" He mumbles against your skin. "And the body it's drawn on." You whine at his tone, dark and low, as he urges you back and forth on his clothed thigh- your panties suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Isn't it like that, baby?" He asks, and you nod, furiously, and he chuckles. "Hm, you seem out of breath baby.." He grins at you, like a predator.
"Jungkook.." You whine, not knowing what you're asking for.
He wordlessly moves, helping you lay down on his bed before he crawls over you, his lips instantly attached to the skin of your neck, hands helping you out of your dress wordlessly, as he can't help but let his gaze linger on your body for a moment. "I can't believe that-" He says, pulling off your overknee socks. "-you'd ever think of yourself anything less than perfect." He says, placing a gentle kiss to the colorful image now forever placed under your skin by his skilled hands. He continues to display his affection over your skin, wandering over your stomach up to your chest, where he playfully bites just above your breast. He struggles with the front of your bra for a second, unsure how to open the undergarment without breaking it, as you help a little; letting them spring free. But only for a moment.
Because in the next, he's got them in his hands, palms gently moving over them, feeling their softness as he groans. "You're so sweet." he comments, as he finally kisses your lips, smile interrupting him every now and then. "So soft." Another kiss. "So delicate." Another one. "And all mine, yeah?" He asks, and you nod, smiling as he grins back, the expression making him look so young and carefree you can't help but wonder how anyone could ever think he's a bad man.
He's anything but.
He's so careful touching you, so delicate in moving his palms over your skin, as if its the most divine thing he's ever felt. He's still smiling, as if in a trance, while he can't stop kissing you. Your hands move into his hair- way softer than you thought it would be, and he groans into your mouth at the feeling of your fingers running over his scalp.
There's no urgency in anything he does.
He slowly moves again, hands opening your legs for him as he sits back on his heels, playfully pulling you closer by the backs of your knees, making you giggle. "You sound so sweet baby." He tells you, innocently, as if he's not currently placing his hand onto your center, ring finger collecting your already leaking wetness before he spreads it, moving his thumb over your most sensitive bundle of nerves while his ring finger enters you slowly. You whine at the feeling, not enough to get you as riled up as you'd like to be. Also; this is the first time you're genuinely experiencing foreplay. You don't know what to do- and Jungkook seems to pick up on that. "You good?" He asks, and you nod.
"I.." You say, breathless as he tilts his head, smile still present on his lips. "What should I do?" You ask, as his eyes widen.
"You?" He wonders, before he stops for a moment. "Don't tell me- this is your first time?" He asks, now genuinely worried he might've gone too fast.
"No.." You admit. "But uhm.. no one's ever, like.. you know, what you're doing.." You say, and that's when it clicks for him.
What kind of guys did you date before him that never gave you any attention like this? He's upset by it, but also weirdly cheered on by that simple fact; it gives him even more reason to make sure you'll get the most out of it. "Ah, I see.." He humms out, letting another finger stretch your entrance for him. "..well, I'm not like that." He explains, before he moves, face now close to your center- and you're unsure what he's going to do. "Trust me." He says, mumbles out, before his tongue places itself flat onto your clit, licking painfully slow as you move your hands over your mouth, trying to keep your noises in. "nuh-uh baby." He scolds, free hand pulling yours away. "Let me hear you." He demands, before he places his mouth back where it was.
Your mind is completely blank at this moment, the only thing you can really concentrate on being Jungkook, working you up so quickly you feel dizzy. It's new, and it's a little weird- but it's more than anything you've ever experienced before. And it brings you towards your end so suddenly you suddenly gasp out, back arching off the mattress as you grab at the sheets below, one hand grasping for Jungkooks, who lets you ride out your high to its fullest. "So pretty." He comments after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smiling at your blissed out state.
"Kook-" You say, moving as you sit up, less shy now that your brain is still clouded by pleasure.
"Ah- you don't have to." He tells you, but you shake your head, and he lets you. He slips out of his clothes, finally bare, and you would've taken time to look at all the different pieces of art decorating his body- if it wasn't for his cock, red and ready in front of you. Usually, you would've let your insecurities and doubts get the best of you. But this was Jungkook. And you wanted to really believe that nothing you would do could ever be judged by him. So there was no hesitation as your hands reached out for him, gently moving, before you took him in, your lips wrapping themselves around his tip, before you moved downwards, fitting as much as you comfortably could. Meanwhile, Jungkook himself was steadying himself with one hand on the mattress, while the other was buried into your hair, his own head thrown back as he closed his eyes.
Of course he had fantasized about this every now and then; but he had never thought you'd actually be comfortable doing it. And even if- nothing he could've imagined would've ever compared to the real deal happening. There was something absolutely mindblowing about the way that you handled him, your sweet and pretty presence looking so divine doing such a sinful act with him. He had to pull you off by your hair, gently, because any more, and he would've been a goner. "G-Good god baby." He chuckles, pushing you a bit so you were on your back again, reaching for his bedside table to search for a condom. "I swear to god if I- HAH!" He tells you in victory, hands making quick work of opening the foil package and wrapping the safety over his length. "I swear I would've run out butt naked to buy one if I wouldn't have found this." He says with a grin, making you laugh.
"That's weird." You comment, and he chuckles, entering you slowly as to not hurt you, his breathing labored as he still kept the lighthearted energy going.
"You think?" He asks, and you nod, giggling as your eyes close, the feeling of him filling you up too good to keep them open. "Hm no." He said breathlessly. "Would've probably put on some pants maybe." He says, before he starts thrusting. "Doesn't matter if it means I'd get to fuck you." He says, and you giggle again.
"Kook!" You scold him, and he still continues to thrust into you, exhaling forcefully as he kisses your neck.
"What?" He whines high pitched as if to imitate you.
"Be serious!" You tell him, but can't help your own smile either.
"Oh, why though?" He says. "We're making love, not war baby." He whispers into your ear, and you still laugh at it.
"I can't believe you!" You complain playfully, moaning out when he suddenly thrusts with more force, obscene noises now interrupting you two as he picks up his pace, clenching his jaw.
"And-" He starts. "I can't believe how fucking good you feel." He presses out, hand now reaching between the two of you as he brings you towards an earth-shattering orgasm, making you mewl as you can feel yourself bursting. "Good girl!" He praises, watching as you squirt all over him, his own orgasm hitting him soon after as he grunts out, finally slowing down until he stills completely, his mouth attached to your neck to place gentle kisses and teasing bites near your pulse point.
"I love you." He mumbles out, and your eyes sting.
Because yeah, you love him- you absolutely do, but hearing it from him, hearing it in such an honest and warm-hearted tone, having this final proof of his own feelings towards you, makes you emotional. "Baby, why're you crying?" He chuckles out of breath, wiping your tears as you smile, and finally look at him with glossy eyes.
"Cause I love you too." You say. "So much."
And he can't help but grin at you.
You really are the sweetest thing.
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You watch as Hana walks out of Taehyungs studio, arm wrapped up in clear foil as she walks towards your counter, pulling out her purse. "Taehyung agreed on 345." She says, until Taehyung yells another number out of his studio, making her eyes roll. She wasn't supposed to come back- but Taehyung had agreed to finish her piece at least. "Alright, here you go." She says, watching as you counted the money. "Does Jungkook work today?" She asks, and you nod. "I'm just gonna go say hi then. You can finish the receipt yeah?" She says overly sweet, and you're about to tell her that Jungkook doesn't want anyone entering without his permission, but he's already walking out his studio, black sweater and silver necklaces on full display as he walks towards you. "Jungkookie!" Hana exclaims, but her face drops almost chomically as she watches Jungkook walk up behind you, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder as he looks over it onto your screen.
"Oh, looks like I'm done for the day. You need anything Hana?" He asks innocently, one hand on your desk while the other rests on your chair behind your back.
"I- just wanted to apologize for uhm.. the emails. I didn't know you'd read them." She says, and you slowly close all programs, while Jungkooks humms out something.
"Yeah, I figured." He says, before he shakes his head. "As I said, I'm letting it go. No hard feelings." He says, shrugging, before he walks towards his studio again, stopping in his tracks for a second. "Ah, baby, can you text Jin-Hyung and ask him if we can come now? I'm actually starving I swear." He says, and you nod with red cheeks, pulling out your phone.
"Huh." Comes from Hana, as she takes the receipt from you. "I honestly.. would've never thought." She mumbles, before she simply leaves, without any more words.
Yeah. You would've honestly never thought either.
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(c)Bonny-Kookoo. Please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi.com/bonnykookoo. Thank you for reading.
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972 notes · View notes
hansolmates · 4 years
Text
a hero’s journey (m)
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summary; jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story pairing; jungkook x editor!reader (f) genre/warnings; best friend’s boyfriend au, slice of life, angst with a happy ending because im weak, pining pINING, everyone’s kind of a mess in their own sweet special way, alcohol use, mentions of ze weed, toxic relationships, mean friends, sex—slight dom!kook, food play, fingering, squirting, heavy use of the petname “pretty girl” bc im weak, strength kink, manhandling (oop!) w.c; 22.2k a/n; woof! my first fic for @goldenclosetnetwork​ 23 | jungkook’s birthday project! this goes out to all the closet romantics *ahem me cough* who doesn’t love pining between a cutie koo? a huge thank u for vivi @eerieedits​ for making this bbbBEAUTIFUL fic banner!  
prompt used: “I should’ve known.”
if you like this fic pls consider giving a like n’share🥺💜🥺💜
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It’s so easy to ignore the world. 
Maybe it’s a young-adult thing, but it gets difficult fitting into the 9-to-5 and playing to satisfy bosses that don’t entirely understand your work ethic. Maybe it’s out of complacency, or fear. But you prefer to let the world flow around you and when you’re needed, you’ll act. You’ve reached that point in your life where you enjoy the little things, satisfied by an extra hour of overtime tacked onto your paycheck, a new fabric softener, or finding the perfectly squishy yoga mat. 
You’ve finally started feeling comfortable in your shoes, uncaring as to whether you’re single or drowning in college debt, happy to live a relatively stable life. You’re grateful. There’s nothing more than you need than your happiness, and the love of your friends and family. 
Namely, your best friend from college. Jisoo always joked about how you two “won the lottery” as dorm rooms in freshman year were determined by lottery. Pulling numbers 883 and 884, you and Jisoo snagged a corner spot of the dormitory, leaving you two utterly cramped but utterly close as the years went by. Six years later and it’s still the case, the two of you have grown into talented working ladies. While you may not be able to spend time with each other the same way you did in school, you still care for each other. 
So when Jisoo shows up teary with a rumpled dress shirt and her hair waterfalling out of this morning’s bun, you break out the good alcohol and season three of Jane the Virgin for her. 
After the liquid is warm in your cheeks and you’ve fawned enough over Micheal and Rafael’s love triangle, you let Jisoo ramble. 
Jisoo has downed a whole bottle of soju on her own, while you’ve decided to have a tasteful glass of wine. You’d rather be tired wine drunk than wasted on soju. 
“Jungkook and I had a fight,” she warbles, stuffing a handful of popcorn in her mouth, “it was totally stupid.” 
Your eyes flash, picturing Jisoo and Jungkook in quarrel. They’re the epitome of an Instagram-worthy couple, beautiful and deathly charming to a fault. They show nothing but kindness and sweetness to you whenever you third-wheel, not a lick of anger between them when you’re all together.
So a fight is something surprising. Jisoo and Jungkook, J-squared are a power couple. Saying their names next to each other just emits a sort of energy you can only akin to famous small screen couples like Troy and Gabriella or Cory and Topanga. Jisoo’s Instagram is belly full with sweet selfies of them together, the doe-eyed man always looking completely sweet and gentle to the woman in his arms.
You never piqued Jungkook as the type of guy who would pick a “stupid fight.” And you know Jungkook pretty well. 
Maybe a little too well. 
“He surprised me during my lunch break and he caught me talking to Doyoung and he thought I was flirting,” Jisoo is practically eating her sweater, her head falling between her flannel pyjama sleeves. 
“Doyoung, as in your ex Doyoung?” you raise a brow. 
She groans, glaring at you in earnest. “Not you, too! I told him it was ridiculous to get jealous, and then I told him how jealous I get when he’s around girls and I don’t need to tell him that,” she rolls her eyes, twisting her feet petulantly in her fuzzy socks, “but then you know what he says back?” 
You wince, swirling your wine glass, “That you’re crazy?” 
“That I’m crazy, exactly! How did you—” her bloodshot eyes zero in on you, where you’ve tucked yourself in the corner of the couch. You swirl the ruby liquid in your cup, watching the feet web around the cheap crystal, “you think I’m crazy too, don’t you?” 
You swallow your sigh, taking your time to finish your liquid in languid sips. Uneasy, you wish you could just sink through the couch in order to avoid this conversation. Jisoo’s heart is generally in the right direction, but in terms of emotions she has the kind of sensitivity that you prefer to ignore rather than tread. Jungkook is also equally emotional, but in a different way. He wears his heart on his sleeve, preferring to keep things straight as opposed to bottling it up like Jisoo. 
However the theoretic bottle has reached it’s brim and Jisoo’s tipping, fast. 
“I need to tell you something,” Jisoo is swerving, crawling like an infant on wobbly limbs to reach your corner of the couch. You almost stop her, tell her you can continue this conversation in the morning, it’s what you normally do when she drinks into a stupor. But tears are swimming in her glassy caramel eyes and she’s grappling onto your blanket, resting her head in her lap. 
Her glossy russet strands curtain her head, so you don’t see the expression on her face when she says her next words: 
“Jungkook told me he liked you senior year, and I told him you weren’t interested so I’d have a chance.” 
Wow. So that explains everything.
The memories that you’ve tried so hard to brush away, the feelings you’ve tried so hard and continue to try to suppress, are laid out in front of you on a rusted platter. You could laugh, you could fling the rest of the Pinot Grigio down your throat like fresh water on a hot day and call it a night. 
But instead you choke back your tears, and push her off because you’re hurt.  
Deep down you know you would’ve been less upset if she told you the week after Jisoo and Jungkook called it official. If you knew from the beginning, it would’ve been easier on your heart. But it's been over two years since the past, thinking you’ve been needlessly, stupidly, delusional in thinking that you could’ve possibly had a chance with Jungkook.
Because it could’ve been you. And the reason why Jisoo and Jungkook fought today? Now you know it’s because deep down, they know they’re each other’s second choice. 
You can’t even recall a time where Jungkook and Jisoo were together alone before they suddenly started dating, remembering how it used to be you and Jungkook before Jisoo found him one day in your shared apartment, utterly smitten. And now you know you weren’t delusional, because the feelings and the signals you two were exchanging in senior year was real. 
But it doesn’t stop the fact that over two years have passed. Two years of a serious relationship between Jisoo and Jungkook, and two years of you secretly loving him from an arm’s length. 
“You hate me,” Jisoo removes herself from you, voice trembling. The quick, dark part of your mind wants you to snap back of course I hate you. You’ve trusted Jisoo with your life all these years, she was the reason you got through college so gracefully, why you enjoyed the past seven years of your life. 
But the sentiment is stained, and all you can do is deliver a tired smile and stand up. “I don’t hate you,” you say, “I’m just, really overwhelmed. I can’t lie and say that I’m not hurt,” your fingers clutch the fake crystal in your grasp, and for once you’re thankful you’re not strong enough to break it, “but you two love each other now and there’s no point in dwelling in the ‘what-ifs’.” 
Now that you think about it, when was the last time Jisoo treated you like a best friend? You stare at your wine glass, thinking that the only time comfort is provided in this apartment is when Jisoo is upset, never when you’re upset. 
Jisoo bobs her head senselessly, agreeing to every word. It’s pathetic, seeing her on her knees and her eyes glimmering with the hope that you’d forgive her straightaway. She must feel awful. That’s good.  
You sigh, needing to be the bigger person. “You need to call Jungkook and tell him he has nothing to worry about though, after all, you two have history now. As much, if not more than Doyoung.” 
“Right,” she replies, biting her lip. It suddenly feels like you're talking to a wall, carrying a conversation that's long ended.
“As for us,” you have half a mind to slam your glass on the counter, but instead you give it a heavy hand, letting slowly thump to the coffee table, “I don’t think I want to see you two, for a while.” 
“Understandable.” 
“And I don’t want to help you move out anymore,” I just want you gone.  
“Right,” she whispers. The both of you will be completed with your lease in two months, and Jisoo and Jungkook have decided to move into Jungkook’s apartment. As for you, you haven’t decided as to whether you want to go through the whole process of moving out or looking for a new roommate. 
“I’m sorry, I’m so so fucking sorry. I just was insecure as fuck in college and Jungkook was the first person I met in a long time that helped me feel more… like me.”
You want to say that she's right, she’s selfish. Her excuses aren’t palpable anymore. It’s too late. But if you were in Jisoo’s shoes, you’d think this apology is mere crumbs in comparison to your friendship. Why isn't she trying harder? Maybe because she doesn't know any better. After all, you never told her what you felt for him has morphed into love. 
You don’t even have to ask as to whether she’ll tell Jungkook this or not, you now know honesty is not her style. 
Jisoo doesn’t get a goodnight and a drunken kiss on the forehead like she usually does whenever you two have your late night talks. Instead, she seals herself to her own demise as you slam the door to your bedroom, effectively shutting each other out. 
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Work is a bitch the following morning. You’re like molasses, rolling out of bed despite the whole world and its mother telling you to go back to sleep. 
Your feet are killing you as you make your walk to work, deciding to wear a pair of red-backed heels so you can stomp your way through your day. 
Your Wusband (Work-Husband) Kim Namjoon matches you step-for-step, eyes glued to his phone as he catches you on the sidewalk. “Woman on a mission,” he comments absentmindedly, eyes glued to his phone as he follows the click of your shoes to your favorite cafe. 
You spare a glance to your right hand-man, eyeing him appreciatively at his dedication to your morning routine. He’s your favorite co-worker, one who keeps you on time to your meetings and keeps you sane when you want to pull your hair out and dig out a coffin in your little cubicle. Namjoon’s long legs always seem to catch up with you during your workweek, whether it’s to get coffee in the morning or to talk shit about the latest gossip in the breakroom. 
The bell of the glass door tinkles in your ears as you enter the café, relatively busy for the morning rush. While you wait in line, Namjoon ticks off your activity list for today. 
“Meeting with Victoria is cancelled this morning,” you groan in relief, your supervisor Victoria always scares the shit out of you even when she’s not doing anything, “and just the usual proofing and whatever we have to do on the third floor today—can I get a large iced Americano with a pump of caramel? Thanks,” Namjoon moves aside so you can throw your order in as well, “and after work could you stop by Vernon’s? He took a sick day today and he has most of the manuscripts for the next issue.” 
“Done and done,” you swipe your card in the dip, tucking your card away in your zippered pouch. “So like, do Americanos taste any good? Like it’s literally watered down espresso how do you pay to drink watered down tar—” 
Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter. Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter swirling stray sugar crystals with his thumb and putting them in his napkin. What an impeccable display of Virgo energy, absentmindedly cleaning things he has no business doing. You scoff to yourself, recalling this morning that Jisoo got off the phone this morning with a stupid smile on her face. From the mirror image that Jungkook is excluding while he’s smiling on his cellphone like a smitten teenager, it seems like they’ve made up. 
Nevertheless the hurt from last night is still fresh in your bones, and you force yourself to look away despite the fact that your morning pick-me-ups are almost done and are sitting tauntingly next to Jungkook’s elbow. Does he really need to learn against the counter like he owns it? Hair slightly damp from the shower, your heart beats a little faster at the fresh image.His biceps are straining against his charcoal lycra long sleeve, which is slightly damp from his morning run. Snap out of it! You are a mature, working woman who does not swoon in the view of bulgy muscles, especially when the man who owns those muscles is taken. Suddenly there’s a call of your name, and two cups and a paper bag are put in front of Jungkook. 
He blinks, and you immediately pale when you see his eyes flit over your name surrounded by your favorite coral pink beverage. You feel struck as his head perks up at the name and he narrowly makes eye-contact—
“The fuck you’re doing,” Namjoon gripes, shoving your guava iced tea and croissant in your chest, “standing there like a moron as if we don’t got shit to do today.” 
“Sorry,” you mumble, pulling at the brown paper bag to tug a piece of croissant between your teeth. The warmth, buttery pastry melts in your tastebuds. Ah, bread. Nothing like a little bit of carb to make you feel better. 
You’re suddenly thankful for Namjoon’s gargantuan torso from effectively blocking you from Jungkook, hauling you out of the coffee shop like a petulant toddler. He doesn’t even give you a chance to catch another secret look at the object of your affections, making sure you’re back in your work game before you enter the building. Even if he doesn’t know it, Kim Namjoon’s always got your back. 
Or in today’s case, breathing down your back. 
Without your third editor and a hard deadline coming up by the end of the week, you and Namjoon are working in tandem throughout your 9-5 to complete drafts for Big Hit Publishings Arts & Media section. Both of you take turns to bring snacks and feed each other, feeling like reading zombies and slaves to your desk as you remind each other to breathe throughout the whole ordeal. 
In complete honesty you don’t totally mind. Namjoon is a great partner-in-crime, and you both love what you do and do a damn good job at it. You call it “Buzzfeed but with Benefits.” 
And at least for today, you could quell the feelings in your chest from last night and this morning. Sure, you’ve always been okay with the pining you’ve had for Jungkook. The feeling comes and goes whenever it pleases, and since yesterday you’ve been okay with just admiring from afar and being their third wheel. 
However, now the feelings are acutely comparable to a third-degree burn with the help of Jisoo playing with fire. 
With a quiet exhale, you concede in your gaming chair (because it’s just so damn comfy to keep in the office.) You’re an adult and not a petty child, and you will not let this piece of information derail you from your calm, stable lifestyle. 
But honestly? Fuck Jisoo. 
“Let’s go, buckaroo,” Namjoon logs off for you, the cinnamon-y smell of his shampoo effectively waking up your senses, “it’s already 5:30. And you said you’d stop by Vern’s to get his drafts.” 
“Right,” you blurt, mindlessly putting away your papers and snack wrappers in your bag. You can’t believe the whole day’s gone already. 
“Maybe you don’t even have to go to his apartment. Just text him or whatever.” 
“Sounds good, thanks Joonie.” 
“And y/n?” Namjoon gives you a look that causes you to force a terse smile, one you give one too many times to higher-ups at work. It isn’t to insult Namjoon by any means, but you guys are partners, the kind that tell way too much but hide just enough to remain close from afar. “Take it easy, will you?” 
“I will,” you concede, stretching your arms, “I’m def overdue for a massage.” 
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“You don’t look sick,” you scoff, taking in the casual look your co-editor boasts as he leans casually against the doorway. 
Hansol Vernon Chwe is the epitome of fluffy, decked out in large electric blue sweats and his russet brown hair curling softly above his porcelain skin. Not only is he your co-editor, but also a friend from college. Not to the extent that you were with Jisoo and Jungkook, but you operated in the same publishing club and managed to get partnering internships that made you the co-workers you are today. You see a little bit of that collegiate youth in Vernon right now, as he looks well-rested and fresh faced despite the fact he probably didn’t apply moisturizer or drink enough water today.
“But you kinda do,” he tilts his head, noting the heels that adorn your feet, “you’re wearing your sexy shoes today, that means something’s going on.” 
“Gee, ever the ladies’ man,” you scoff, getting under his arm to invite yourself inside, “all I want is the completed interviews so we can pick out the best parts and draft them. Then I’ll be on my merry way.” 
“Oh c’mon, we’ve been talking nothing but work this whole damn month. What happened to college when we’d talk hours about House Hunters, the safeness of library sex, that little furry thing in Lincoln Hall’s urinal? That was prime conversation.” 
“Vern, I’m just here for the drafts,” you sit at his tiny kitchen table, glaring at his open laptop.  
“You could’ve just emailed me,” he teases, twisting around his chair so he can rest his arms against the back. “But since you’re here, that means you probably wanna spill some tea but you’re too upset to admit it.” 
“If I talk will you stop talking like that?” 
“Yes. Give me the juicy details. Need some juicy juice.” 
“Nevermind, get out of my apartment.” 
“Uh, this is my apartment.” 
“My point still stands,” you make another face at his outfit, “you look like the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.”  
Vernon purses his lips, scooting his chair closer to yours. He’s unfazed by your insult, far used to your defenses being higher up than Fort Knox. He looks up at you with his pretty lashes and deceivingly sweet caramel eyes, leaning his head along the backrest. “C’mon, tell me what’s bothering you,” he says in a gentle tone, coaxing you open. 
He always knew how to do it for you, a little bit of sweet talking and that clear open gaze always reduced you to shreds in university. For him, it always took a good meal and some sci-fi movies to get him to talk. That must be why you’ve stayed friends for so long, you two knew how to connect. 
Finally you crack, kicking off your shoes and hoping the sharp end doesn’t land on his cat. You hear Luna meow in protest but she’s got great reflexes. Unbuttoning the first three buttons of your stuffy blazer, you air out your cleavage, not caring about Vernon’s gaze. He’s seen worse. 
“Remember Jeon Jungkook? Majored in graphic design.”
“Ah, yeah. The guy who like, lived at the gym and the dining hall? Haven’t seen him in a minute,” his eyes seem to glaze over the glory days, reminiscing in the simultaneous safetynet and stressor that made up your early twenties, “didn’t you guys hit it off real well? Like I remember you ditched like—three sci-fi nights to study with him. Who even studies at 1AM?” 
“Yeah, we did,” and you can’t help but frown at as you remember the 7-Eleven runs, the utter warmth you felt when he would wipe a stray rice grain off your cheek, and how happy you felt to laugh so much with him it hurt, “but uh. Jisoo got drunk last night, because they had a fight. And she sort of admitted to me that she sabotaged our relationship and told Jungkook I wasn’t interested in him so they could start dating. Two years later and here we are.” 
A pause. And then, “Want a beer?” 
Vernon doesn’t even wait for a response when he gets up, bare feet slapping against the tile as he prepares some drinks and snacks for you. 
“That’s pretty fucked up,” he practically sing-songs among the cacophony of popcorn pop-pop-popping in the microwave. The aroma of buttery kernels is all but a relief, reminding you of movie matinees, “and like, she knew you liked him! It was totally obvious, even if you didn’t spell it out for her.” 
“Yeah,” you practically gushed to Jisoo those past two months, every waking moment with heart-eyes over the talented graphic designer Jeon Jungkook. 
“I can’t believe Jisoo would keep that a secret from you for so long. Like, can you even trust her anymore?” 
“Don’t know, was she even my bestfriend or was I just a good roommate to her?” you ask. Vernon is holding two beers in one hand and a bag of popcorn by the tips of his fingers in the other, careful to not burn himself. Opening the beer for you, you thank him and take a long swig.
“Well, good thing you’re still not in love with him or whatever. That would really suck. Unless—”
The look on your face says it all. You’re practically snotting into your bottle, your face tucked into your chin as you fight hard to stop the tears you’ve been suppressing for the last two years. “Don’t give me your pity,” you garble, turning away from the sad look Vernon gives you as he wraps his arms around you. 
The tears are soft and gentle, flowing freely onto the cotton of Vernon’s arms as you let it out. 
“‘M’not,” he concedes, rubbing his chin into your neck. He really is a lot like Luna, just like his  cat ready to give you affection. “Let’s just, get some take-out and watch Hamilton or something.” 
He lets you wear his matching sweat suit, lime green, as you order Thai food and rap along to Hamilton’s sick beats. Vernon does a better job keeping the flow, but you’re having a good time being his hype man as he parades around the living room like it’s 1776. 
You go home that night around ten o’clock, feeling noticeably lighter and more relaxed. Be that it may you are still wearing the sweatpants and heels ensemble, you feel comforted. 
The apartment is quiet when you walk in, not a single light turned on. You get a slice of the city lights bleeding in from the organza curtains, which allow you to kick off your heels and hobble to where you think the kitchen counter is. 
Today is Jisoo’s day to cook dinner. You can tell she decided to cook today from the faint smell of Japanese curry and a small unwashed plate in the sink. Whenever it was someone’s turn, they usually left an extra bowl or serving in it for the other roommate when they got home. Unsurprisingly, you find no such thing on the counter or in the fridge. 
You’re not upset, but rather decided. If Jisoo is going to let your friendship fade off with no intention of redeeming herself, then you should give her the same amount of energy back. You realize now the apology she gave last night wasn’t for you, but empty words to make her feel better and mend whatever toxicity she’s created in her own relationships. People like Namjoon and Vernon reminded you that you didn’t need to try and earn other people’s friendships. 
It’s disappointing, but the feeling is all but too familiar. 
If you could describe Jisoo as anything, it would be the color pink. Blushing, beautiful, beguiling pink. The way she flushes when Jungkook does an uncalled for grandiose gesture of romance, or when she wears a hot magenta number when she’s hosting a fashion show. Jisoo is the personification of La vie en rose, unbothered and unabashed.  
But now all you see when you think of Jisoo? Nothing but red. 
With that, you go in your room and untack the polaroid of you and Jisoo at the carnival last month, putting it away in your junk drawer to be forgotten. 
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“You’re running away.” 
“Am not.” 
“Are too,” that interjection comes from Vernon’s roommate, Jung Hoseok. He’s been watching you two bicker over work for the past hour while he plays GTA5, failing to get a good hard carry because you and Vernon are too busy discussing whatever finishing touches you need on your final draft. 
“No one asked for your opinion, Jung,” you throw over your shoulder. 
“I’m just saying,” Hoseok flicks his wrist and nabs a tank, “you never wanna go home, you eat all our food, and I found your pyjamas in my laundry basket.” 
“You said your basket was the blue one,” you hiss under your breath. 
“The navy blue one,” Vernon chirps unhelpfully, “not the electric blue one.” 
Hoseok hits “save” on his campaign, disconnecting from his PS4 and stretching his lean limbs. “I mean, we could use a third roommate,” Hoseok jokes, getting up from the couch and grabbing a handful of M&Ms from your bowl, “you do make a bomb mac n’cheese.” 
“Appreciated,” you relent when Hoseok presses a kiss to your cheek and tells Vernon he’ll be back late working, leaving you and Vernon alone in their shared apartment. When Hoseok is gone, you stare at the door, tilting your head, “y’know,” you remark, “Hoseok’s a cool guy, why did I never hang out with him in college?” 
“Because he was stoned the majority of senior year and you just didn’t vibe with that crowd.” 
“Oh, yeah.” 
“But, you’re trying to change the subject,” Vernon carefully untacks your hands from your keyboard, knowing that you two have already been done with this month's issue and you’re now just mindlessly re-reading emails. “You’ve been here since Thursday, and now it’s Saturday. And as much as Hoseok and I like having you around so you can wake me up before we go to work, it’d be nice to throw me a bone and let me in on what you’re thinking right now.” 
You frown, noting Vernon’s large hand covering your laptop closed. He isn’t going to remove his hand anytime soon unless you talk. “Jungkook’s helping Jisoo pack up her half of the apartment this weekend and I don’t want to be there,” you say, short and simple. 
“You miss her?” 
“Yeah,” you admit honestly. You hate this version of yourself, unable to even look at Jisoo nowadays despite the fact you’re under the same roof for the remainder of the month. It’s hard to believe that the roommate from six years ago finally got under your skin, cancelling out all the years of friendship because of one silly relationship, “sad she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.” 
“Did you talk about it?” 
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you reply despondently, “if she cared at all she would’ve to apologize again by now.”
Vernon figures, and his neutral expression doesn’t change as he leads you to the couch, brushing away Hoseok’s things so you two can get comfy. You busy yourself with the remote, exiting the PS4 homepage to scroll Netflix. 
“And are you trying to get over him?” 
“I mean, yeah,” you have been, but it’s a little hard when you’ve been contentedly pining. It was easy to keep your feelings bottled up because you originally thought Jisoo and Jungkook were meant to be for each other for the past two years. Now you're still pining but ruefully bitter at Jisoo.
“It’s not fair, y’know. She broke girl code, bros before hoes. Or is it chicks before dicks?” Vernon shakes his head at his lame attempt to get you to smile, which works anyway because Vernon’s silly and his sense of humor always gets you a little loose. “It’s your house too, you shouldn’t feel like you don’t belong there.” 
“Well I was supposed to help her move out this weekend, and I’d prefer it if Jungkook didn’t know what was going on.” 
“What?” your friend furrows his thick brows together, tucking his hands under his knees as he leans into your stubborn expression. “You’re gonna let Jungkook go on with his life not knowing that his relationship is based on a lie. That’s not cool. Even if you’re into him, he’s still your friend.” 
Damn, when did Vernon get so good at giving advice? Truth is Vernon’s always been good at dishing advice, you’ve just been privy to what you wanted to reveal to him. The first year or so being together outside of college was always about work, saving each other’s asses to ensure you two got that promotion and aim higher and higher. Now that goal is out of the way, and what better way to reconnect over some shoddy romance straight out of a Degrassi special? 
“I know,” you hug your knees tight to your chest, “when I’m ready, okay?” 
“Okay,” he agrees, because he’s not a pusher, “do you know the best way to get over someone?” 
“What?” 
“The best way to get over someone, is to get under someone," he emphasizes that point with his hands, sliding one under the other with a wiggle of his thick brows.
You slap him on the shoulder, “Vern, you disgust me.” 
“But it works!” 
“I’m not going on Tinder to find a fuckbuddy.” 
“You don’t have to look on Tinder or Tumble.” 
“Bumble.” 
“Whatever,” and his eyes flicker to his lap, where his pale fingertips turn red as he grips the edge of a throw pillow. "If you really don't wanna find someone, I can help." 
Is Vernon offering himself up? He is offering to fuck your brains out in the hope that you could inevitably fuck out your interest in Jungkook? Your eyes flicker over to Vernon's form on the couch, who's tucked in the couch just as you are. 
It’s true that you find Vernon attractive, and to some extent he definitely finds you attractive as well otherwise he wouldn’t have suggested the idea. It’s just that in college you never viewed him in that kind of light, probably because you were always so caught up in Jungkook. But tonight you can’t seem to ignore the eagerness hidden in Vernon’s carmine gaze, and how shiny and touchable his chocolate locks look under the setting sun. 
“I don’t want our friendship to change,” you reply slowly, furrowing your brows. “I appreciate it, but I don’t know. It sounds like a temporary fix.” 
“Can’t knock it if you don’t try it,” and out of curiosity, you don’t shy away when Vernon leans over to you, squeezing himself between the couch so he can tuck you in his arms. “I want to help you, but only if you want to.” 
Maybe it’s the frustration you feel with Jisoo, Jungkook’s ignorance, or the fact that you haven’t felt physical pleasure in such a long time, but you soften into Vernon’s hold. He’s relaxed, nothing betraying him as he waits patiently for your answer. You’ve always admired how much he kept up his “cool as a cucumber” demeanor. He isn’t the type of guy to let life pass him by, but he’s the kind of person who walks along life, embracing the ups and downs like old friends. He’s the ocean waves that crest along the shore, pushing and pulling along without a care in the world. 
He’s the textbook opposite of Jeon Jungkook, which is why you give Vernon the okay to lean in and press his lips against yours. 
His kisses are soft, and he takes great care in making sure you’re comfortable with this new step in your relationship. It almost feels as if you’re cutting corners, and you can’t help but feel a little guilty that you revel in the way Vernon’s hands trail under your too-large t-shirt. 
The pleasure you’ve ached for is there, bubbling low in the pit of your belly. It’s hard to get you out of your mind however, because this man isn’t the one you love. His kisses hold no power, only brief reprieve. Your heart doesn’t palpitate and your palms don’t sweat, you’re just languid. 
You’re greedy and selfish, but you remind yourself that it’s okay to allow yourself of these freedoms, even for a little bit. As Vernon finds your sweet spot that has you rolling your hips against his, you find that temporary fix isn’t a bad start at all. 
When you trudge back to your apartment that night after much reluctance, your face is still flushed and you think you smell a little too much like Vernon’s cologne. But the fact that still stands is that you're satiated, and you feel a tiny percent closer to moving on. 
The television is glowing with a terrible reality TV show, angry brides upset over cake layers or whatever. Jungkook and Jisoo have fallen asleep on the couch, surrounded by half-empty boxes. Jungkook has his arm lazily over Jisoo, her petite body fitting perfectly between his chest and the crook of his neck. 
You scoff when you spy Jisoo's bedazzled manicure digging into Jungkook's bicep, as if someone's going to take him away if she doesn't hold tight.
With stiff muscles you spare one look at Jungkook, ignoring the pang in your chest as you weave between boxes to turn the TV off. Barely an iota of your feelings have dissipated since your previous tryst with Vernon not an hour ago. Looking at Jungkook brings it all back, unfortunately. You suppose the feelings will pass with time. The soft hum of the television ceases, and you’re bathed in a room that feels dark and empty, despite the apparent life in the room. 
There’s some bleary talk coming from the couch as you walk to your bedroom, and if Jungkook is sleepily mumbling your name in question, you pretend you don’t hear. 
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“So, where’s y/n? I thought she was going to help us pack.” 
It’s an innocent enough question, as Jungkook scans the corner of the living room hallway that leads to the bedrooms. You haven’t come out yet. He knows that you love sleeping in on the weekends, but he hopes the smell of fresh food will coax you to the table. His pan is sizzling in protest, telling Jungkook to quit talking and flip the hashbrowns. He's fried up three, in the hopes you’d be up for some crispy potatoes. He knows how much you love potatoes, especially at 2AM when you’re craving fries and a McFlurry combo. 
Instead Jisoo mutters, “You toasted too much bread, you know I don’t eat bread like this,” she’s pulling slice by slice out of the toaster, until there’s a stack of six golden toasts in the middle of the kitchen table. 
A little part of him wishes to quell the precursor to the argument there. It would be so easy for Jungkook to say, “the extras are for me” because he’s trying to gain weight, and that would be that. 
Instead he continues with his unanswered question and replies honestly, “I made extra toast for y/n, babe. She was supposed to help us pack but I haven’t seen her all weekend.” But he’s pretty sure you came home last night, unless that was his imagination. 
Jisoo pulls a carafé of apple juice out of the fridge, pouring the amber liquid into two glass cups. “Ah, she said she had some last minute things to do for work. Y’know, Big Hit always wants a big hit.” 
He chuckles, tilting his head as Jisoo gives him a small smile from the kitchen table. Jisoo is always good at cheesy jokes. “She must love her job, huh.” 
“Yeah.” 
“Her articles are really good, too,” the air smells like butter and Italian seasoning, as he places one hash brown on Jisoo’s plate, and two on his. He knows you edit in the Arts & Media section, and loves how you make it a point to include video games and modern graphics when it’s deemed appropriate. “She did a piece on the evolution of RPG and I thought her commentary was really spot-on.” 
He brings breakfast over to the table, while Jisoo places two slices of toast on his plate, one buttered and one with strawberry preserves. Breakfast is a quiet, but peaceful affair. Jungkook takes note of how Jisoo takes extra long to complete her meal, her fork creating ribbons in her little blob of magenta jam. He allows himself to complete his first hashbrown and a slice of toast before asking the difficult question. 
“Are you and y/n okay?” and he also takes note when Jisoo’s ministrations on her jelly stop, as she looks up at him with her big brown eyes. 
“We’re fine,” she insists, “just normal roommate issues, I promise.” 
“Maybe I should text y/n,” Jungkook says, pulling out his phone. “Lemme help you fix this, wouldn’t want you and her in a bad place when you’re about to move out.” 
“Baby, why are you so concerned about y/n?” Jisoo croons while his thumb hovers over your contact, his screen showing a two-year old selfie you two took during a study session early on in your friendship. He can’t remember the last time you two took a picture together out of spite, one without Jisoo. Jisoo’s hand pulls him away from his phone, rubbing small circles between his palm. 
He wants to ask, why aren’t you? But he sees the terseness in Jisoo’s smile, as her eyes fix between the interlocked fingers. He has a feeling he’s hovering somewhere he isn’t allowed to be in. Maybe it really is roommate stuff and it’s none of his business, but he feels a little insulted being left out because you and Jungkook are just as much best friends as you were in college. 
Or are you? 
This question plagues him throughout the day, and when Jungkook packs enough boxes for the weekend and says he needs to go home, Jisoo for once doesn’t argue. Normally Jisoo would cling to him like a koala, murmur simultaneously adorable and dirty things in his ear and lead him to her bedroom to coop up for hours on end. But Jisoo says she’s tired and needs some alone time, which is also fine. 
He doesn’t feel like going home, and instead heads straight to the gym. A couple pumps wouldn’t hurt, and it would clear his head. It’s nearly five in the evening when his body is thrumming with the afterglow of his post-workout, and he decides to take a little cool down in the mall and treat himself to a smoothie. 
It must be kismet when he sees you coming out of the bookstore, looking a little winded but no less professional in your beige blazer set and rose gold iPad. Whenever he hung around your apartment with Jisoo and you’d come home from work, he’d make it a point to acknowledge your plethora of multicolored skirt-suits. He never needs to be professional in his place of work, and admires how much effort you put in. 
“Hey!” he jogs up to you, and he catches the way your shoulders jump at his voice. “We missed you today.”
Your smile curls into something dry, and you twist your spine like rusty hinges to face him. In turn, his smile dims a little, wondering if he’s doing something wrong. Maybe you’re tired? He catches the line of sweat that glistens your baby hairs, and how your hair is done up but has fallen a few centimeters with some pieces falling out. 
“Jungkook,” you exhale, “lifting boxes wasn’t enough of a workout?” 
“You know me,” he replies stiffly, hiking his backpack higher upon his shoulder. Why does this conversation feel so awkward? “So, finishing up work? Sucks you have to work on a Sunday.” 
“Ah, it wasn’t so bad,” you face relaxes a little as you explain your work, “it was children’s day at the bookstore and they were watching Disney movies. I’m writing a piece on how I believe Ratatouille is Pixar’s magnum opus. Interviewed some kids, I wanted an expert opinion.”  
“Ratatouille is the superior film,” he declares with a firm nod, “after all, anyone can cook.” He revels in the small smile he manages to retrieve from you, immediately understanding the inside joke. If he came out of the gym five minutes earlier, he probably would’ve been able to catch you in the bookstore. What a shame, he would’ve loved to see you play around with the kids. 
At the mention of food, the mall manages to silence itself enough for him to catch the grumbling coming from your stomach. He laughs when your cheeks heat. 
“I was on my way to get some smoothies,” he jabs a thumb in the direction of the food court, “wanna catch up and get a bite?” 
“Oh, I don’t know, I have a lot of work to edit,” disappointment pangs in his chest at your easy rejection, but he ignores it, “I kinda wanna save some money too, still not sure if I’m staying in the apartment after Jisoo moves.” 
He doesn’t know what compels him to take your shoulders and wheel you in the direction of the food court, much to your protest and whines. “C’mon, explain to me why Ratatouille is the magnum opus—I need to defend why The Incredibles is superior. I’ll treat you to dinner.” 
“What? I can pay for my own food—” 
“And I can’t treat my best friend to a nice meal once in a while?” 
That has you stopping in your tracks, and Jungkook nearly barrels his chest into your head if not for the grippy soles of his Adidas Ultraboosts. He can’t see your face, but his hands note how your muscles cord tightly between the cotton of your blazer. 
He doesn’t understand why you’re so tense. Was it because he called you his best friend? Well, you are? At one point he felt that way, early on in college. The position just stuck with you. And when Jisoo told him you weren’t interested, he was perfectly fine with the platonic relationship. It was nice to have someone to talk media and video games to, someone not as chaotic as Jimin and someone not as deterred as Yoongi. 
Although, maybe as of late he hasn’t been so much of a friend. It’s no one’s fault, he’s been caught up with work and Jisoo’s move, he hasn’t said so much as a “hey how are you” when you’re around. He can’t blame you. 
Suddenly his mind blanks, the mall fading away as he focuses on how small you look as your eyes dart between the parking lot and the food court. Jisoo and Jungkook have been so caught up on each other lately, that he fears you’re starting to separate yourself.
“Um, this place is good,” you tug him by the elbow and lead him to a fast food joint. 
When he picks up both your orders and comes over to your saved table, you’re talking animatedly on the phone. You’re laughing, looking at Jungkook as if he’s the one intruding and you’re muttering a hushed “sorry” as you continue the tail end of the conversation. 
“Yes, Joonie. Go with section two, I know my shit. I’m your Work Wife for a reason, Umji in PR could never compare,” you’re giggling like you’re five years younger, and Jungkook feels stuck in a timelapse. 
He watches you go, throwing around names and terms that he’s so lost on but so desperate to understand. He knows nothing about your life other than the one that’s tied with Jisoo, which is a damn shame. Since when did he inevitably downgrade you from “best friend” to “his girlfriend’s roommate?” 
“I’m sorry,” you turn your phone over and push it to the side, giving Jungkook a smile as well, albeit weaker, “let’s dig in!” 
To his relief the dinner goes as good as it should be. You have your tray practically overflowing at the seams, all on Jungkook’s dime. It has his heart swelling with pride, he hasn’t seen you eat in a long time. There’s fries spilling out from the corners, and two sandwiches because you couldn’t decide between a chicken sandwich and a burger. 
Food gets you amicable, and he doesn’t mind when he does most of the talking. You’re engrossed in his talk, lettuce hanging out of your mouth as you’re rapt with attention as he recalls a story that happened at work recently with Mingyu. You ask questions in all the right places and he sucks up all your attention like a happy pill, and it feels nice to be able to lead a conversation for once. 
“Jeez, I’m getting the burger sweats,” you giggle to yourself, and his smile brightens at your positive change in attitude. Food always helps. 
When you remove your thick high-collar blazer, that’s when he sees it. 
“Seeing someone?” he asks, eyes flickering curiously towards the violet bruises that bloom across your neck. 
“What–oh,” you have the audacity to look embarrassed, hands clutching your neck like a shield, “no, just a hookup.” 
A messy hookup, too. Unless you had a thing for showing off marks, which doesn’t seem to be the case. “Didn’t peg you for someone who hooks up,” he says more to himself than you, but you catch him on his impulse jab. 
Your eyes narrow and your defenses go up, “I’m trying to get over someone,” you snip back, busying your hands by crushing up your greasy sandwich wrappers. 
“Am I allowed to state my opinion?” 
“Since you asked so politely, no.” 
He sighs, “I just don’t think that’s the best way to get over someone,” heck, Jungkook doesn’t even know who exactly you’re trying to get over. He just knows that you’re far too smart and independent to let yourself resort to such matters. 
“It isn’t, but it’s really the best option as of now,” you reply curtly. 
And his gaze saddens as he sees you fold your blazer over your arm, indicating that your time is up. Jungkook is aware the comment he made is out of line, and it weakens him knowing that you don’t even want to pick a fight with him. He can’t even find it in himself to apologize properly. 
He doesn’t know if he’s more sad that you’re pining over someone unattainable or upset at himself for not knowing you’ve been harboring feelings for someone. If you really think hooking up is your only option, you must be really hung about whoever you’re into as of late. 
“If it’s worth anything,” Jungkook adds, wanting to leave on a high note, “fuck that guy. He clearly doesn’t deserve you.” 
A small, secret smile plays on your lips, “Yeah, I like to believe that.” 
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“I’m anxious,” Namjoon’s mantra makes the whole energy in the room wobbly, paired with the fact the two of you are squished between cardboard boxes as Jungkook aimlessly moves things around like a Tetris screen. 
The only time you feel remotely comfortable basking in your home is when Jisoo is gone. Oh-so conveniently is the Big Hit building undergoing maintenance today, so you and Namjoon have decided to work from home in your apartment. Although you thought by now that Jisoo’s boxes would be long gone and tucked away in Jungkook’s place, instead you’re living in an episode of Ed, Edd and Eddy and the cardboard is practically wall-to-wall. You also thought by now that Jungkook would have no reason to show up unannounced anymore, but apparently that’s not the case. 
“I have, anxiety,” Namjoon adjusts his glasses for the nth time this afternoon, brain not fixed enough to focus on the screen of his chrome MacBook, “anxiety, anxiety. I can’t right now. I need my weighted blanket and a pillow.” 
“Namjoon, I can get both of those for you if we just send in this last spread,” you coo gently, as if placating a baby. You make brief eye contact with Jungkook from the other side of the room, his lips quirking in amusement as he stacks a box of clothes by the kitchen. 
“Do you feel my palms? My palms, they’re like a fucking fountain you need to feel them—” your Wusband approaches you like a zombie, leaning over you and tripping over his criss-crossed legs before he topples over you. 
“Blegh, get off of me you sweat giant!” you cry with a good-natured laugh, although the grip of Namjoon’s palms under your shoulders are damp and slimy, “Joon, I can’t get you your blanket if you’re crushing my boobs.” 
Namjoon finally relents, untacking himself to rest his chin on your glass coffee table. “Fine.” 
“Look over the last column and I’ll bring your blanket, okay?” 
Pushing yourself off the ground, you shuffle your way out of the living room through the maze of boxes and into the hallway. It feels like your apartment is less of an apartment and more of a storage space when you’re trapped in-between two lines of boxes, and Jungkook effectively blocking you from entering your room. He was just in the living room but now he’s come from the linen closet, standing between the entrance of your room. 
“Sorry,” he pops his head out from a smaller box, one filled with designer costume jewelry. 
“It’s fine,” you chirp, barely making eye contact as you shuffle over the boxes. 
Your toe drags over the lid of one of the open boxes in an attempt to move diagonally. You nearly crash your face into the hardwood if not for Jungkook’s arm stretching out to catch you. In seconds he manages to catch all your weight in one hand, pulling you to him with your hip pressed against his. Your breath traps itself in your neck. Your subconscious fears that if you speak now, you’ll babble about how attractive it is that he’s able to catch you as easily as grabbing a light sheet of paper. 
“Careful,” his voice rumbles in his throat as he regards you with a wan smile. 
Your “thanks” is barely uttered as you slip into your room, heaving your weighted blanket and a pillow in your arms to let Namjoon borrow. 
The burgundy quilted fabric is hunched over your shoulder, draped around your body so it’s easier for you to carry on your back. You try to eradicate the memory of Jungkook’s arms, lean and strong as he held you to him moments before.
Ugh, you thought messing around with Vernon would stop your silly pining. It seems that it’ll take more than a couple rounds to satiate your curiosity. For such a kind guy, Jungkook seems like a wolf in sheep’s clothing when it comes to the bedroom. 
You can imagine him being so kind in the beginning, coaxing you to wan and bend to his every wish and command. And then when you keen a little too hard at the attention, you bet a switch would flip and he’d grab you—
The blanket flops around your back, and you’re sorely reminded that you’re thirsting over a taken man, yet again.  
Jungkook makes it extremely difficult for him to be hateable. It’s by nature that he’s just so damn likeable. Heck, he’s pretty much packed seventy percent of the things Jisoo should be packing right now. 
Making sure not to trip again, on your feelings and your blanket, you successfully reach a tired Namjoon. You tuck your koala-shaped pillow under your co-editor’s arms, and drape the heavy blanket over him like a cape. He’s giving you a thumbs up and a toothless smile, the previous meltdown overcome as he focuses on finishing the last of today’s work. He’s slipped on some noise-cancelling earphones, presumably filled with generic coffee-house music or rain playlists. 
Wordlessly you go to your nook to prepare some tea. It’s getting late and a warm cup would distract you from the impending deadline. Despite the fact that you and Namjoon are 99% of the way done, his previous freak-out has you on live-wire and you could use a little caffeine. 
Placing three mugs on the counter you call, “Jungkook, tea?” 
“Yes please,” you stiffen when you feel Jungkook magically appear right behind you, his head peering over your shoulder, “with milk and honey.” 
Deciding to give Jungkook the beehive-shaped mug because it’s very on-brand for him, you begin to steep the leaves in your kettle while he spoons the honey. 
“So,” his words are slow as the drip of honey, the amber goo taking its time to descend into his mug as it falls from the dipper. “Is that the guy you’re trying to get over?” 
Jungkook lifts his brows towards Namjoon, who is softcore jamming to his white noise playlist. It’s cute as to how curious Jungkook is about Namjoon. While you try to keep your work life separate, there really isn’t much backstory to your personal life to warrant that kind of divide. 
“Namjoon,” you state aloud, watching Namjoon sing badly to himself, “why, are you gonna beat him up for me?” 
“I can take him,” you can practically hear Jungkook’s chest pop out. 
With a roll of your eyes, you reach to kill the heat off the tea kettle, “No need. He isn’t the guy I’m trying to get over.” 
“Oh, he’s your fuck buddy then?” 
“Shit!” being caught off guard, you grab at the handle of your kettle without a pot holder, burning your fingertips. In seconds Jungkook’s larger hand encases your own, pulling you over to the sink to soak your fingers in cool running water.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jungkook is chanting like a sinner at church, searching for any sign of pain in your visage, “I shouldn’t have asked while you’re working with a hot stove.” 
You suppress a sigh, relaxing your fingers as Jungkook soothes the burn with his gentle hold, “Shouldn’t have asked in the first place,” you mumble. 
“I know,” he replies, “guess I’m just feeling a little left out. We don’t talk like we used to. I guess I’m getting a little too nosy for my own good, aren’t I?” 
You don’t understand what’s going on with his incessant babbling as of late, but you chalk it up to work stress and Jisoo’s move. Having no answers to his honest reply, you gently untack your red palm from his grip, assuring him that you’re fine. 
Namjoon steps into your kitchenette, being surprisingly careful as he takes your potholder to pour himself a cup of tea. If the tea is oversteeped and bitter he doesn’t say anything, only leans against the counter as he regards you two with slow sips. “You alright?” 
“M’fine,” you reply stubbornly, avoiding Jungkook’s worried stare. 
Namjoon holds out his hand, “Hand.” 
“No—”
“Hand.” 
His deep voice coerces you, and you immediately slap the back of your palm onto Namjoon’s. Your partner brushes his golden hands over the tiny blister that’s forming over your fingertips. “Can’t have my Work Wife outta commission.” 
“Your Work Wife is fine,” you gripe back. 
Your co-worker’s eyes flicker over to Jungkook’s for a brief second, Jungkook regarding him in curiosity as he stares at your connected palms. “I have some aloe in my bag for sunburns,” Namjoon offers helpfully, ignoring the weird glances, “I’ll give it to you in a bit. Also, I’ve overcome my sudden bout of stress and I’m ready to email our progress to Victoria. We’re done for the day.” 
“Awesome, thanks Joonie,” you exhale, relaxing against the sink, “wanna go eat somewhere?” 
“There’s a niche place in Itaewon if you wanna check it out?” Namjoon offers.
Jungkook interjects, “Jisoo ordered pizza if you guys wanna share with us?” 
“Pizza also sounds good—” 
“We don’t wanna interrupt your alone time,” you gracefully cut in, stepping in front of Namjoon despite the fact that he’s easily towering over you. 
Jungkook snorts, “I’ll have enough alone time with her when she moves in, don’t worry. Besides, I ordered three pies because I wanted to try three different flavor combos. I need two additional judges.” 
“Thanks Jungkook but,” you stifle a cry when Namjoon jabs you in the back with his thumb. It’s pressing, digging into the small of your back as if he’s trying to telepathically tell you that you’re being rude, “but… I don’t know if I can eat three slices! Namjoon on the other hand, can probably eat enough to fairly judge.” 
“Great,” Jungkook’s smile is blinding, causing your grin to stiffen as he looks for his phone to shoot Jisoo a quick text that they’re having dinner for four. 
Once Jungkook’s out of earshot, Namjoon tugs you by the sleeve, “The hell was that?” he hisses in your ear, “you look like you’re about to shit and piss your pants at the same time.” 
“I just don’t feel comfortable eating with them,” you cross your arms in defiance. You think back to just a week ago where you and Jisoo reluctantly attempted to eat breakfast together one morning. You provided minimal small talk while Jisoo clinged to her phone, replying to you in non-committal clipped tones. 
“Do I want to know?”
“No.” 
“Do you want me to leave?”
“No!” you retort, “you got me into this mess, you’re gonna stay with me ‘till the end.”
“I don’t know what you want from me, woman,” Namjoon throws his arms out exasperatedly, oolong tea nearly sloshing onto his hand, “just suck it up or I revoke your bragging rights to that snag you got on our spread next Monday.” 
“Not my fault you couldn’t get Kim Taeyeon on the spread,” you smirk. 
“Well I didn’t so happen to stalk the Sephora she frequents for the past two weeks—” 
“I didn’t stalk her I just so happened to need a new Fenty Gloss Bomb every other day—”
“I’m home, Jungkookie!” 
Your face contorts, your playful energy melting to the hardwood as your previous banter with Namjoon evaporates into thin air. Work bags in one hand and three boxes of pizza balancing in the other, Jisoo kicks off her heels somewhere across the door and places the pizza on the dining table. 
Jungkook immediately appears by her side, and you look away and Jisoo plants a heavy kiss on his lips. She cracks open one eye as she notices you and Namjoon hanging by the kitchenette, “Oh,” she mumbles at her audience, “you’re here?” 
Yes, you bimbo. I’m here in my own apartment. 
“I guess you didn’t read my text that they’ll be joining us for dinner,” Jungkook cuts in good-naturedly, “we have way too much pizza anyway. Have a seat, guys.” 
Jungkook navigates the kitchen as easily as your own, and you slump in your chair while Namjoon exchanges pleasantries with Jisoo. She looks impeccable, hair in a tight chignon and a tight navy dress as she converses with your co-editor. 
“I’m starving,” Jungkook announces, making sure to place a slice on Jisoo’s plate. He shuffles through the other boxes, making brief eye contact with you when he decides to put a slice on yours as well, “you like these toppings, right?” 
You regard the greasy, hearty piece of cheese and bread with a curt nod. You feel Jisoo’s eyes laser on your skin, “Yeah, thanks Kook.” 
Namjoon, Jisoo and Jungkook mostly stir up the conversation, you opting to eat as slow as possible to avoid any conversation. It’s easy to blend back and let them take over, as Jisoo loves to talk about her fashion firm and Namjoon is a great listener. 
Jungkook and Namjoon make it a point to direct the conversation to you from time to time, and you let the ball leave your court as soon as it lands. You prefer to keep your responses short and simple, especially when Jisoo is so eager to talk about the new silk drapes she’s installing for Jungkook’s windows.
Your phone buzzes in your lap, and you discreetly look under the table to read the incoming text message. 
vernie bernie: would u like to do the devil’s dance tonight
vernie bernie: or a tickle to my pickle? 
vernie bernie: beatin ya bean? 
You: ohmyGOD 
vernie bernie: or y’know, u could just come ovr and chill. Hobi made some bomb tres leches
You: call. Ill come after dinner
“Are you okay, y/n?” your head bounces up to meet Jungkook’s gaze, “you’ve barely eaten and you haven’t talked much.” 
“Oh you know, she’s just stressed about the upcoming spread,” Namjoon steps in for you, and you send him a discrete, but grateful smile. He’s always impeccable at reading the room, “she’s just nervous about her interview with Kim Taeyeon, but I think you did her interview justice.” 
“No way, the singer Kim Taeyeon?” Jungkook gushes, regarding you with stars in his eyes, “your interviews are always so great, y/n. You ask really good questions. Like that one spread about  Lee Yonghwa’s art gallery? Really cool.” 
You notice the way Jisoo presses her lips together, a thin line as if she’s trying to seal away words that she’ll regret saying. She’s jealous, and you can’t help the blush of pride that fills your veins as you raise a secret brow at her. 
“Right, you got nothing to worry about,” Namjoon squeezes your shoulder encouragingly, as if you’d get his double-meaning. 
“Thanks,” you reply, pushing your plate away and standing up, “I’m actually gonna go head to Vernon’s for a bit, though. He wants to double check his work before we email Victoria.” 
It’s a bald-faced lie, Namjoon sent the files to Victoria right before dinner, but he isn’t going to argue. 
“Okay,” Namjoon thanks Jungkook and Jisoo for the meal, stacking his plate atop yours, “I’ll walk out with you.” 
“It’s only been twenty minutes, though,” you see the slight panic in Jungkook’s gaze as he watches you quickly clean up for you and Namjoon. You can’t quite pin why he’s so concerned, after all he has been acting strange as of late. 
“Yeah, I’m full,” you reply curtly, licking your lips and avoiding his gaze. You already know what he wants to say, that he’s been in your apartment all day and all he’s seen you eat is stale chips and tea, “but we can do this again.” But hopefully not. 
“If you’re coming home late again,” it’s the first time Jisoo has spoken to you directly. You tilt your head to her slowly, watching the plastic smile carefully carved onto her expression. You see the contrived care and concern between her brows, “please try to be quieter next time, the last time you came home late you woke Jungkookie up.” 
Snapping your gaze to Jungkook you plaster on a thick smile, “Sorry Jungkook—” 
“What? No, it’s fine!” he furrows his brows in confusion, finally able to detect the strange tension between the two housemates, “I barely heard you—” 
“Maybe I’ll just stay the night at Vernon’s,” your eyes trail over to the pajama set you immediately switched into when you got home today, “wouldn’t want to disturb you two.” 
“Good,” Jisoo’s tone is saccharine and clipped as she tacks on a, “have fun.” 
It’s laudable, how much Jisoo wants to make a fool out of you but you won’t have it. You revel in the perplexed expression as Jungkook’s gaze darts back and forth between the two of you, wanting to butt in but unsure of how to approach it. Not giving him the time to, you bid the couple a goodnight and make a fast getaway. Heck, you don’t even take your work stuff with you. 
Once you’re out the door, Namjoon wordlessly gives you a hug. You sigh gratefully into his embrace. 
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The next time Jungkook sees you, he reads the room before anything. You and Jisoo’s apartment is scarily empty, almost clinical. He’s tried texting you a few times after his failed-not-failed attempt at catching up at the mall and his awkward conversation concerning Namjoon, but you always reply back with vague replies and an unpromised promise of meeting up sometime soon. 
It dulls him to think that you’ve given up on him as a friend. But can you blame him? He needs to keep an appropriate distance for Jisoo, after all, she doesn’t like it when he gets too close to other women unless it’s strictly professional. Usually Jisoo’s jealousy inevitably works itself out and Jungkook doesn’t pose any problems because he has very few girl friends, but for some reason your friendship with him specifically gets Jisoo stiff in the face. Is it because you and Jisoo are so close? Possibly. 
But it doesn’t mean you can’t join the same Valorant server with him at 2AM and accidentally bomb each other, or argue over the magnum opus of each film company. Is that not enough? 
Jisoo’s working overtime, and Jungkook suggested last night that he move the boxes to the front of the door for easy pick-up when the moving truck arrives. Jisoo promises to buy Thai food in return, and with a kiss emoji she leaves him to audit fabric budgets. 
As he glides down to Jisoo’s room he notes that the pictures along the wall have disappeared, and there’s double the amount of boxes in the hallway. It seems that you’re moving out too. To where, he doesn’t know but he hopes it isn’t too far. 
He chides Jisoo remotely when he sees that her room is completely intact, and he makes moves to pack up her things. 
That’s when he finds his letter. Not a love letter to Jisoo, but a love letter to you. Deep in the recesses of Jisoo’s junk drawer, is a faded lavender envelope with a pressed cream colored baby’s breath taped up in plastic. The glue is yellow and old, clearly served its purpose due to the fact that the letter is already opened and the contents rumpled. 
Hey Pretty Girl–
He immediately stuffs the letter back in its holder, stricken at his messy handwriting from two years ago. It feels like he found a time capsule, another version of Jungkook confessing to you. He used to call you Pretty Girl, not enough for you to catch on to his feelings, but enough for you to understand that he did find you attractive. It was early on in your friendship. 
When you first asked him to be study partners for some silly class that had nothing to do with each other’s majors, he gaped like a guppy and pointed to himself. That day he went to class in last night’s clothes and a nest of fluffy strands. “Me?” he felt like absolute trash, and you were probably desperate due to the fact you two were the only seniors in this class, “but you’re a pretty girl… and I’m pretty dumb when it comes to this subject.” 
But instead you scoffed and pulled him from his slumped figure, dragging him to the library, with a wink and a “you’re pretty, too.” Those words have burned in his brain since then, as he wasn’t used to getting such off-handed compliments, especially from intelligent girls that wanted more than one night. 
For whatever reason you continued seeing his dumb self, even after the semester ended and together registered for one more class for spring. 
Whenever you’d go out for ice cream you wouldn’t hesitate to stuff your face and add for extra Oreos and fries, you’d assure Jungkook you’re not normally this much of a slob. 
Jungkook would just smile and offer you a napkin and say, “You’re still a pretty girl.” 
He fell for you gracefully. There was no regret, no walk of shame, no cliché late night party where you or him could’ve instigated it into the physical. It was all by feel. 
However the two of you took your time with your relationship, languidly enjoying the hushed conversations in the library at 2AM, the late night McFlurry runs, the integration of each other’s friends like it was natural. Ergo the lavender love letter. It was a gentle declaration, one he felt pretty confident in. 
So color him stupid when you passed him in class with a happy wave, Jungkook dumbfounded at how well you handled his confession. You weren’t oblivious, you just never read it. 
But now he knows the declaration was for whatever reason, lost in transit. “I should’ve known,” he whispers in the air, the letter crumpling in his grip. Composing himself, he pinches his brows.  
There’s an electronic buzz and a sharp slam of the front door. Judging by the time, you’re home. 
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You flop onto your mattress, folding an arm over your head to stop the sun from seeping to your eyes. Vernon’s exhausted you, and you barely got away before he could have any say in it. You need a little space, and some time to think. 
Just as you close the door to your bedroom, it swings open. 
You gape as Jungkook thrusts himself into your bedroom like a deer with horns, looking pale. You follow his gaze, darkened eyes that linger a little too long on your neck again, and you narrow your eyes at him to avert. He looks a little red in the cheeks despite his pallidness, looking like he just got out of bed with messy wavy locks and his signature sweats. Is Jungkook packing for Jisoo again? 
Acutely aware that you smell like sweat and sex, you clutch the blankets closer to your body. “Uh, rude.” 
He looks uncharastically frantic, waving a letter in his hand, “Did you ever read this?” 
“Read what?” you ask, hands reaching out for the envelope. 
“My confession letter,” he blurts, having no shame now that all the gears are running through his head. “I wrote you a letter asking you out, because you said you wanted to collect notes like in Letters to Juliet. But I just found it in Jisoo’s drawer, why would it be there?” 
And all the pent up frustration that never seemed to escape under Vernon’s sheets, the feelings that never seem to subside, all bubble back to the surface. Now that Jungkook knows, there’s no hiding. 
You’re in shock, hands reaching for the letter despite the burn that seeps through your fingertips. Jungkook’s shoulders slump when you do indeed look like it’s your first time seeing this, as if a missing puzzle piece in your timeline has finally been revealed.
“I, I didn’t think you’d write me a letter,” you take the lavender envelope, clutching the letter by your chest like it’s something precious, “that’s so sweet,” you say to yourself.  
It dawns on him, “Wait, you knew about this? I knew something weird was going on.” 
“Only recently,” you frown. 
“And you didn’t think to tell me?” he nearly shouts, causing you to flinch, “no wonder why you were being so weird all this time. How could you let me live the rest of my life knowing this? That my relationship is built on a lie? ” 
“I don’t know,” you suddenly feel very small in your mattress as Jungkook rounds up on you, pulling your desk chair closer to your bed, “because you love Jisoo, of course.” 
“Well obviously that’s not possible,” and while yes a two-year realtionship ending like this is going to hit him hard tonight, he’s focused on you and the fact that you failed to tell him, “somehow I’d find out. Why wait for me to find out on my own?” 
“Because I wanted to protect you!” 
“Protect me,” he scoffs, crossing his arms and sneering at you. It causes you to tense up, feeling the telltale signs of tears bubbling to the surface, “you don’t even want to be friends anymore, y/n. I’ve tried to catch up to you so many times, but you keep leaving me hanging. I know I’ve been a pretty bad friend and I get it if you just feel awkward that I liked you, then that’s a shitty reason.” 
“Have you ever considered that it’s too late to tell you?” you shoot back, sitting up straight, “yes, I admit I should’ve told you earlier and I’m sorry, but it was a lot for me to process to y’know? Jisoo and I haven’t talked properly in weeks!” 
“Oh, so you’ve stopped trying to be friends with Jisoo too, huh? Just like you’re trying to stop being friends with me.” 
“No,” you pinch your brows, “she stopped being friends with me! She doesn’t care about me because she has you,” conflict burns in Jungkook’s gaze, and you only serve to fuel the fire, “she’s tried so hard to not involve me in your relationship.” 
“Just tell me why you’ve really kept this secret instead of saying you want to protect me like a baby—” 
“It’s because I’m in love with you, idiot!” 
You blink and back up against the wall of your bedroom, as if you can’t believe that the words came out of your mouth. 
It’s quiet again. The sour look evaporates from Jungkook’s face as he watches you suppress your sobs on your mattress. The room seems devoid, sucked out of its color as you’ve cleaned up most of your things, the only thing left being some plain grey sheets and a pillow. 
Jungkook’s mind is absolutely reeling, playing back memories from a different point of view. 
“When Jisoo told me she sabotaged our relationship so she could date you, I was so upset and didn’t know what to think,” you manage to place the lavender note on your wooden desk, making sure no tears could mar it. “And I thought I could move on and eventually stay friends with the both of you, but the next day Jisoo put all her attention on you and completely ignored me or any attempt to salvage our friendship. She only told me to forgive herself,” you’re hugging yourself, wrapping the blankets around you like a weak embrace, “so I thought if I cut myself out of the picture and forced myself to move on like I should’ve, everything would’ve been okay.” 
“So, you would’ve rather kept all this pain to yourself?” 
“Yeah,” you give him a teary smile, “because I wanted you to be happy.” 
And with an equally sad smile he murmurs, “But I’m not happy.” 
 Your face falls, and you really look at Jungkook. He’s exhausted as well, slumped in his chair. Has he been trying to grapple along the threads of his relationships, while you’ve been trying to loosen them? 
“What a waste of two years,” he slumps in your chair, letting the pieces click into place, “a relationship built on fake love. I was really trying, y’know. I thought I was going crazy.” 
The three of you have unknowingly been playing a futile game of Cat’s Cradle, a game that no one wins. 
Jungkook looks wistfully out the window, noting the pleasant day that fails to present itself in your tiny room. It feels simultaneously satisfying and bitter when it falls into place, your thoughts finally fitting together for the first time in months. “We could’ve loved each other. For real,” he says, and you silently agree. 
You’re still crying, shaking like a leaf in autumn. Jungkook’s arms hover awkwardly over yours, his warmth palpable despite the fact that he hasn’t touched you yet. With a timid smile you allow consent, and you melt like putty in his arms. 
“Kookie, ‘m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you murmur into his shoulder, not caring if it hurts when you press your chin into his skin. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.” 
It’s been so long to have him close like this, the friend you’ve always wanted but never needed. Since college you’ve always imagined a life without him doing just fine, but that doesn’t mean you want to live without him, roommate’s boyfriend or not. 
“I’m sorry too,” he sighs back, “this sucks right now, but we’ll be alright.” 
The two of you sit in your room until it turns dark and the sky muddles into shades of twilight and egg yolk orange. There’s lulls in the conversation, the two of you filling in the gaps and making sense of the mumbo-jumbo that’s been going on in your consciousness up until this point. Your insantities turn sane, and by the time Jisoo’s making her way back inside with the smell of pad thai, Jungkook is ready. With a squeeze to each other and a press of your lips because you don’t know what to say, you tuck yourself in and pretend to fall asleep. 
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“Messy, messy, messy,” Vernon sing-songs, knocking his heels against the wall. 
The both of you are sitting upside-down, butts attached to the wall connecting to his mattress and your feet hanging in the air. Your mint floral organza socks pad against his Pink Floyd poster, while his yellow tube socks are heeling against some old Polaroids from college. There’s no prospect of sex today, not when shit just hit the fan. 
Today you and Vernon are just two old friends and very close co-workers. 
“Tell me about it,” you bemoan, frowning at the beige wall, “this whole week’s just been a whole mess. It’s like, warm tuna salad.”
“Gross,” Vernon grimaces at the apt comparison, “so what happens now?” 
You sit up on your elbows, looking down at Vernon’s peaceful expression, “What do you mean?” 
“Like, are you gonna get together with him?”
You snort, flopping back down on his bed. The blankets fluff around you and you inhale the pine scented sheets. “After all that? No.” 
“But you still love him?” 
It must sound dumb to still love him after all this time. You wouldn’t be surprised if Vernon thought you’re silly to still hold a place in your heart for someone who has fifteen million things on their plate now. After all the physicality and the space Vernon gave you in his home, your feelings haven’t wavered. 
Your companion doesn’t bother waiting for your answer, hearing your answer somewhere in the air as he gets up and throws on his denim jacket. Rolling over your stomach you ask, “Where are you going?” 
“Some friends down in printing want to meet up for drinks,” Vernon messes up his hair, making the waves part in that little coiff that makes his jawline look sharp. “I heard Yerin really wanted me to come, so.” 
You can’t help the little middle school coo that comes from your lips, causing Vernon to giggle and throw a pillow at you. “Yerin’s cute!” you declare, remembering the petite girl in overalls who’s all about pops of yellow and violet, “you're into her?” 
“Nah,” Vernon holds up two hats in his hands, gesturing for you to pick one. “Just figured it was a push in the right direction.” 
Crawling out of his bed you stumble in your oversized t-shirt, tucking a finger under your chin as you decide between the emerald bucket hat and the red Ralph Lauren baseball cap. You pull out both hats from his hands and set it down on his vanity, opting to smooth out the flyaways and ringing your fingers through his soft curls. “And what direction would my free-flowing friend be going today?” you ask aloud, “you look better with your hair out,” you declare firmly, “makes you look like a fluffy CEO.” 
He laughs at your silly comparison, and he gently moves your hand away from his hair when you linger a little too close to him. His gaze is solemn as he regards you with a gentle smile, “Keep your distance, I’m tryna get over someone,” he says simply, and your arm falls limp at your sides. 
Your heart thuds in a different direction, your mouth parting but no words coming to the surface. When was the last time you asked about Vernon’s needs, wondered if he was doing alright, making sure you two were on the same page—
“You’re spiraling,” he reads you like a playbook, smoothing down your hair to press a kiss to the crown. Suddenly you feel guilty for not having sparks in your belly, shaming your conscience for not even considering his sacrifices in your self-absorption these past few weeks. “Like I said, I wanted to help you. Stop looking like a kicked puppy, it’s okay to be selfish.” 
With transparent tears the two of you pack up and head to your next destination. Hands ghosting between each other you make your way to the exit of Vernon’s apartment, him to meet up with his friends while you have to unpack your new apartment. With a hug you tell each other you’ll see them on Monday, and as easy as that you go your separate ways.
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Hey Pretty Girl—
I kinda wanted to tell you this in person but I know how much you liked Mamma Mia and all those other movies that have grand gestures in writing so I thought hey, might as well shoot my shot on paper. 
Not gonna tell you all the details, because you deserve to hear it in-person. But mayhaps this letter has something to do with how much I like studying with you, watching movies with you, doing absolutely nothing with you and all of that in-between. 
There’s a gift card to our spot attached. Meet me at McDonalds @12 tonight, so I know it’s real 😎
Hopefully yours, Jungkook
P.S. if you haven’t noticed already, I sprayed a little cologne and stole Taehyung’s fancy paper from Muji. That’s how serious I am about you. 
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“Joon, we live in a bonsai garden. We’re like giants in a forest.” 
“Can you—can you stop spitting at them? Let them breathe, dammit.” 
“Not my fault they’re so tiny! I literally have to zoom 200% just to get a good look at ‘em.” 
The two of you are huddled in what used to be Namjoon’s balcony, now a sunroom for his succulents and bonsais. Your heart feels pink and swollen with affection as you regard Namjoon with interest, absorbing every bit of information you can as he teaches you how to care for his plants. After all, you’re co-parenting now. 
Having your Wusband co-sign as your roommate for the next year is probably the best decision you have made this year. Everyday is like a breath of fresh air. With Seokjin gone for the year to tour his restaurant franchises, his room is yours for the taking. The two of you are easy going roommates, filling the apartment with color and vigour whether it be in the form of baking sweets or watching Netflix documentaries. 
The only drama you ever have is when you two are having a meltdown over the same work-related issue, as if you two somehow share the same brain cell. It’s significantly less stressful, no need for unnecessary anger when  you have someone as mediating as Namjoon.
After today’s plant lesson, you two go back to the living room to finish up your work for the evening. Another perk of living together is that you can go home at normal work times and continue where you left off with the comfort of your couch and eating a whole pizza pie with no shame. 
Namjoon’s phone pings with a new email from corporate. “We got the new concept for next month’s spread,” he gestures to you with a grandiose wave of his arm, “drumroll please.” 
He pulls up the newsletter from corporate with a flick of his thumb. Your company put out every month’s concept out in an Evite, like every month was a themed party. A stressful, month long work party. In seconds, the page loaded and you’re met with next month’s title bathed in electronic glitter. 
The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth
The two of you say silent, absorbing the concept like a cookie to milk. It’s a personal spread this month, a real treat for the team to show off their normal non-professional life. A spread that reveals the masters behind the ink and text. Last year’s personal spread was about the staff’s vacation destinations, but this year’s is much more intimate. You can imagine all the ideas that will be thrown around on Monday’s meeting: pinning down shared ideas like Throwback Thursdays, late night munchie runs, drunk stories, and all the crazy college nostalgia that you’ve been trying to avoid as of late. 
But now it’s presented to you in a gold chalice, and while you’re sick of the past you think it’s about time to face it. You’re excited to tackle the dark monster you’ve suppressed since Jungkook and Jisoo’s breakup. 
“Did I ever tell you I was president of my university’s Mock Trial?” 
“No, I always thought you’d be president of the Comparative Literature Club or whatever. But Mock Trial is equally as nerdy.” 
“I’ll have you know Mock Trial got me tons of action,” he winked, “made me very convincing.” 
“Gross,” you sneer, “so that’s what your spread will be about? How the co-editor of the Arts & Entertainment section managed to bag with his skills from Mock Trial?” 
“Nah, I went on a penniless journey with Jin during spring break. Six days around Malta.” 
“That does sound so you,” you sigh, fingers slipping between the cracked screen as you mull over the overly happy Evite, “sounds like a cool story.” 
“I know that look,” Namjoon quips, snatching his phone under his nose, “don’t overthink your spread just yet, it’s still the weekend. Now to more important things, what do you want from Taco Bell?”
And because you can’t refuse the combined efforts of nachos and Namjoon’s dimples, you relent for the night and tack the unmade idea to the next workday. 
Unfortunately the next workday is just as disheartening. Today’s work meeting is the antithesis of icing on the cake. While your college life isn’t anything remarkable, you didn’t think it was a painfully dull time. With every passing moment and every excited co-worker throwing memories back and forth like ping pong balls, the more you felt inferior by competing with their amazing memories. 
“Who can even afford Aruba at twenty-one,” you mutter under your breath, stalking back to your cubicle. 
Filling up a whole spread is daunting to you, the thought of Victoria popping her head in your cubicle to ask what you’ve got for the day is practically eating you from the inside out. Maybe your college life was in actuality, super boring? You have no crazy drug trips to tell, any vacations that gave you a life-changing perspective, or an epic love story. 
“What’cha got there, partner?” 
The third musketeer of your editing team’s caramel eyes peer into your cubicle, causing you to jump in your chair. Vernon wheels around, chair and all to push you into your already cramped space. His gold button up gleams in the sunlight, effectively blinding you. 
“If by something you mean nothing, then yeah I got nothing,” you frown, spinning around your chair. “What are you writing about?” 
A fond smile melts onto your friend’s face, and you can’t help returning a smile that mirrors his own. You two have fallen back into a good place, as far as you know. He’s still easy, simple, sweet Vernon. When you dropped some boxes off in coloring, you heard that Vernon and Yerin have recently started seeing each other. 
“Thought of the idea as soon as the Evite came out. It’s more of a photo spread, but I’m gonna write about my study abroad in NYU,” Vernon ticks a pencil on his forehead, “a self-identity piece talking about how I felt like, not-white around my family n’stuff. And then felt not-Asian at the same time, s’complicated but I think I can make it work.” 
“Deep,” you pat his shoulder caringly, knowing that Big Hit is a good outlet for these kinds of subjects, “alright City Slicker, since you’re so full of ideas then tell me what to write about.” 
Vernon sits up straight, regarding you with narrowed eyes, “Aren’t you gonna write about your little love triangle with Jisoo and Jungkook?” and it seems like he’s already storyboarded the idea in his head, gesturing to the air as if he’s writing down a timeline, “I can see the headline now: How to Steal a Heart,” he’s grinning, nodding fervently as you cross your arms in distaste. 
“Vern, are you suggesting that I exploit Jisoo and Jungkook’s personal lives?” while the journalism business didn’t pride itself on sincerity, it did feel wrong to drag in your personal life to that extent. 
“Babe, you don’t understand. You have the perfect slice of life story. Everyone’s writing about expensive vacations and that one time they got cross-faded and ended up in Busan,” he squeezes your hand, “but your story, it’s relatable. It’s romantic. It’s angsty. It has closure. No one’s gonna be able to relate to an impulse spending on daddy’s money to Aruba. But first loves? Unrequited romance and all that ish? Everyone can speak to that. And you’re a beautiful writer, they’ll eat up that story like honey.” 
“I don’t know, it still doesn’t feel right.” 
“Change up the names, twist the story,” he offers easily, knowing you’d put up a fight, “besides, it’s not like you’re planning on talking to Jisoo or Jungkook ever again,” you open your mouth to retort, but Vernon’s phone beeps to the Star Wars theme song and he’s flying out of his chair. “Shoot, gotta go help Joon upstairs. Just think about it, okay? Good luck!” and he’s kicking his chair out with a brown loafer, leaving you with breathing room in your cubicle. 
Five seconds later Vernon is jogging back, pointing a finger at you, “And if you do choose to write it, you have to add that Jisoo copped your McDonalds gift card. Like, who does that shit? Couldn’t she have just given it to you and say it was from her and not Jungkook? Seriously fucked up.” 
For the next ten or so minutes you mull. Out of all the memorable college events you’ve participated in, the largest one by far is your (now defunct and debatable) friendship with Jisoo, and your (un)requited love for Jungkook. Reluctantly, you must admit Vernon has a sharp idea, busting in like a hero and offering you the most writable piece on a silver platter. 
It doesn’t feel morally right just to start writing, because ultimately you can’t feel comfortable until you get the consent of Jungkook. While you don’t want to touch Jisoo with a ten-meter pole, you do want to start talking to Jungkook again now that the waters have calmed.
Your life has moved gracefully up until this point, and you’d like to start being friends with him again. Decision made, you pull out your phone and make an important call.
“Hey Yoongi,” you say nervously. Min Yoongi is Kim Namjoon’s equivalent, Jungkook’s Wusband and former upperclassmen in college. 
Said man hums noncommittally on the other line, “Whaddya want, it’s been awhile.” 
You stifle a giggle at his apathetic attitude, knowing he’s someone who wastes no time in getting straight to the point. “I just wanna make sure Jungkook’s address is still the same? I know it’s been a couple months, but I need to send him something and I wanna make sure it gets to him ASAP because—”
“Because last time something was sent, your crazy roommate intervened and Jungkook ended up in a two-year half-toxic relationship? Yeah, let’s make sure that doesn’t happen again.”
“Yoongi,” you say slowly, “where are you?” 
“Working in the studio,” he tuts, “Jungkook says hi, by the way.” 
Typical, cat’s out of the bag. With a roll of our eyes you reply, “Thanks for outing me, Yoongi. Talk to you later.” 
“And y/n? Jungkook says he’s waiting.” 
With a stupid smile slapped onto your face, you hang up the phone and pull out your stationary kit from under your desk. You pluck out a vermillion red envelope, a color so bold and begging to be seen, you know it can’t possibly get lost in transit. Feeling a little bit like a high schooler as you pull out a glitter jelly pen, you get to writing. 
Hey Pretty Boy...
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Jungkook and Jisoo are no longer together, evidently. 
Their social media runs in different directions, with Jisoo sporting absolute elegance in her work at her family-owned boutique. Her posts are full of shiny outfits and soulless gazes, betraying any pinch of emotion she may have felt over these past few months. Her profile is wiped of any personal posts, all traces of you and Jungkook evaporated from her page. You must admit that she looks good, like a real fashion mogul, but only at the surface level. 
Conversely, Jungkook is thriving. It’s evident. Normally he isn’t the type of guy to post so frequently, his habits being often sporadic and limited to sweaty gym stories. But whenever you scroll, it’s pictures of him smiling. Big bunny teeth broken into a genuine, full-bellied laugh. Cute selfies of him and his co-workers. You notice two familiar co-workers in those posts, Irene and Seulgi, two beautiful women Jisoo always felt intimidated by whenever she ranted to you. You conclude positively that Jungkook doesn’t feel tethered and can hang out with all the friends he wants, female and male alike. Jungkook looks free, and you’re happy for him. 
It’s another Instagram-worthy moment tonight at McDonalds, where you and Jungkook proposed to meet each other at 12AM. 
This time, the letter makes it to its desired destination. You make sure of that because this time you hand-deliver it, slipping under his apartment door knowing he lives alone and no one would be able to access it except him. 
You’re parked in an obscure corner, but you can see that Jungkook is currently having a great time with his co-workers for an after work meal. Yoongi is unbothered on his phone, while Jimin and Seulgi are taking turns throwing fries into each other’s mouth. Jungkook is squished between them, scrunching his nose cutely as he tries not to get in the fray of their fry-war. 
Your phone pings, and you laugh at what pops up on the screen.
Yoongi: come inside, u loser. 
You: can’t ur friend group makes me nervous stop being so dang cute
You: dw i’ll wait, it’s only 11:50
Instead of replying, Yoongi puts his phone down and resumes eating. In turn you pick a playlist, deciding that “summer time high mix✨✨✨” is a theme you need to subscribe to for the rest of the weekend. 
Busying yourself by sending some texts to Namjoon and checking some emails, you relax in your seat as you let your brain turn to sludge for the weekend. You’re tired, eyes glazing over as you watch Yoongi elbow Jungkook harshly, forcing him to look out the foggy window. 
Jungkook’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas Eve, but instead of Christmas lights it's your car’s lowlights. The graphic designer  pays no mind to his friends as they wish him goodbye and goodluck, throwing on his jacket with a wave. 
The night air whizzes by, Jungkook’s floppy black strands bouncing with each step as he bounds to your car. He throws your door open, bringing in the cold air as he regards you as easily as an old friend would. 
“Hi,” he chirps, placing his tattooed palms by the air vent, “c’mon, let’s order.” 
“You know, you could’ve ordered inside and brought it in here.” 
“Yeah but then it would take longer to get to you,” the cheeky grin that Jungkook throws at you is unmistakable, “c’mon, get out the car and let’s switch.” 
“Huh?” 
“You look tired, you didn’t come back from the office again, did you?” 
“I did tonight,” you say, “I just really wanted to get the soft copy of the article done and—” 
“Out, out!” Jungkook clicks your seatbelt off and he’s coming out of the passenger side, opening your car and pulling you out by the hand, “c’mon, I’ll drive.” 
You shake your head, hiding your smile in your hand as you let Jungkook do what he wants. Normally you’d be insulted that anyone suggests they should drive your car but Jungkook would always drive you around, saying he loved long rides. Above all, if you could trust anyone to drive your car, Jungkook is at the top of the list. 
Buckling in, you bite the inside of your cheek as Jungkook easily pulls out of the parking spot one-handed. His jacket is pulled up to his elbows, exposing his veins as he expertly whirls the wheel in the direction of the drive-thru. Since college he’s always looked very attractive driving.  
Doesn’t mean you have to act like you’re still in college. You tamp those feelings down, knowing that your article probably has you feeling stuck in time. 
“—coming along?” 
“Wha?” 
“I said, how’s the spread coming along?” 
“It’s pretty much done, I think. I’ll send you the hard copy when it’s ready,” you tap your fingers against the dashboard, “but are you sure you’re okay with me writing it? I know I’m using a pseudonym and everything for you two but I still feel weird—” 
“It’s fine, I think it’s a good thing,” and you still squirm in your seat when he flashes you a genuine smile, “I mean, it kinda is a funny story and I think it’s good for both of us. Like closure, y’know? Moving on and—hi, can I get two Oreo McFlurrys and a large fry? Thanks!” he pulls out his wallet to scan the total on the e-reader.  “I mean, didn’t it feel good writing it?”
“Yeah,” you replied honestly, relaxing in your seat, “like, college was fun and all, but when Jisoo kinda ruined all that… after awhile I didn’t think it was ruined after all, y’know? I still made amazing friends and ended up where I wanted to be. I want to show the readers that shit happens, and that’s okay. And if things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.” 
The summer playlist hums in the background as Jungkook pulls up to the pick-up window. He thanks the worker and hands you the tray, and you make quick work to put the fries in the first cup holder for optimal sharing. He doesn’t park at McDonalds, but instead smoothly pulls out of the restaurant into the direction of his apartment. It isn’t a particularly long drive, but you figure it would be easier for Jungkook to go home first if you’re already parked at his complex. 
“What do you mean by that?” Jungkook parks in the driveway of his apartment, taking his McFlurry from your hands. 
“Mean by what?” 
“If things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.” 
“Well, we’re here now, right?” 
Jungkook pops his spoon in, swallowing vanilla and a silly smile through his coral pink lips, “We’re here now,” he repeats. 
The night air is cool and your conversation is warm. You promise Jungkook that you’ll send him the final copy of your spread as soon as it’s done, and you two eagerly deviate away from the past and focus on the present. 
You can’t help the eagerness that flows between you, as if you’ve never spent time apart like this and it’s only now that you’re reuniting. It must be absence that makes the heart grow fonder, because you swell with affection and you find Jungkook’s presence sweeter than any kind of ice cream. 
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Are you dating now? Maybe. You and Jungkook are going on dates, everything without the title. McFlurry runs, marathons of HGTV’s Design on a Dime, having lunch at each other’s respective buildings with the Wusbands. Whether these dates are exclusive or not is unknown, but you figure the question will present yourself one way or another. 
You’re in a good place right now, potential relationship or not. After all, your priorities are simultaneously positive and in order: family, work, friends, and any potential romantic trysts are at the very bottom. You could kiss the cover of this month’s issue (and trust, you have kissed your own copy multiple times) if it is not for the fact that this specific issue is for Jungkook. 
So, romantic trysts and friends have a tendency to flip-flop on your priority list, but only because it’s Jungkook. 
Unsurprisingly, there’s no guilt knowing that you’re dating your former best friend's ex-boyfriend. 
After a much deserved early work day, Namjoon and the crew arrange a hearty happy-hour filled with good food and enough relaxation to last the weekend. With your combined successes, your team felt like they made the best issue yet. At the heart of it, The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth became a reckoning of each other’s young life. Despite the love and the growth that occurred from your college years up until this point, you’re glad to close that chapter and move forward. 
You did not tell Jungkook when the issue would come out, so you think it’ll be a fun surprise for him when he sees it magically show up at his apartment. Bending down you move to slip the issue under his door, one hand pushing it under while one hand braces against the frame to steady your balance. 
Just as the shiny cover glides under the door it swings open, and you fall flat on Jungkook’s feet. 
Being the little shit he is, he simply giggles at the blunder, looking at you with excited eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he says. 
“Creepy as hell, Jeon,” you mutter under your breath, brushing the dirt off your aqua pencil skirt. Looking at him from your spot on the floor and his large height, you grimace. “You look like a middle-aged serial killer looking outside your peephole.” 
“Now, we know that’s not true.” he finally offers his hand, easily pulling you up to your feet. You follow him into his kitchen, where he’s cutting up fresh fruit. He throws your issue on the counter, gentle enough so it doesn’t slide off the granite. He gestures to himself with both hands, “me, a dashingly handsome late twenty-something in Nike sweats who can bench-press two of you? Totally not a middle-aged serial killer.” 
“It’s in the eyes,” you chastise, “you look crazy.” 
“Maybe I’m just crazy excited to see you,” he says with a cheeky grin. 
You try your best not to choke on your spit at the cheeseball comment, throwing a blackberry in your mouth. Savoring the burst of tart flavor that fills your mouth, you wait for Jungkook to plate the fruit before meeting him on the couch. He’s holding a prettily arranged plate of berries, bananas, and mango with a huge dollop of whipped cream in the middle. In his other hand is Big Hit’s magazine. 
Throwing your blazer on the couch’s arm you don’t hesitate to cuddle up next to him, eagerly waiting for him to read your spread. 
The cover gazes back at the two of you like a reflection. The entirety of the staff is posed on the cover, made to look like a class photo. Some of you are holding balloons in your respective school colors, many of you grouping up with whoever happened to go to college together. You and Vernon are wearing matching university sweaters with silly grins on your faces. In the middle of the issue is the editor-in-chief, Victoria Song holding a placard that reads: Class of Youth. 
Jungkook spares you a glance from the corner of his eye, your head naturally tucked into his shoulder. With an exaggerated sigh, he fiddles through the glossy pages, “Hmm, which one should I read first?” 
“Of course you’ll read mine first,” you pout. 
“Ah, Namjoon’s looks really fun. Or Vernon’s? New York looks pretty cool,” he flips to a random page, “wait, Yerin’s spread is a Korean cookbook! I definitely want to make some tuna rice...”  
“Jungkook,” you whine, “read mine.” 
“I don’t know,” he taps his finger on his lip, “I mean, I pretty much know your spread because I’m already in it. It would be kind of redundant to read it.” 
“Kook, you’re being mean,” you glower, rubbing your cheek against his soft sweater. He’s just so damn comfy. 
“I’m kidding,” he tugs at your cheek, “where’s the table of contents, first page?”
“I’m on page eighty-three.” 
You speed up the process like an impatient child, leaning over to brush the pages to the desired spread. You even dog-earred it, a habit that drives Jungkook crazy as he immediately fiddles to iron out the crease. 
“Are you gonna read it to me too, mom?” he teases. 
“Okay fine! I’ll be quiet, but don’t take too long.” 
“Yes ma’am.” 
Eyes fluttering, you let Jungkook take his time to absorb your piece. A roommate by any other (rude) name: the lost letter. A cheesy, gimmicky title that Victoria insisted upon that you had no choice but relent to. The rest of the spread thankfully has a very authentic edge to it, your story laced with photos of you and Jungkook, your internship with Vernon, and most importantly, a scan of the lavender letter that got left in the past. 
Jungkook’s not silent through his read-through, either. He laughs at all the right parts, fueling your ego as his smile grows at your favorite lines. While he doesn’t directly engage in conversation, his positive energy is enough for you to make you feel like you’ve done your job right. It’s one thing to write about unknown celebrities and unnamed artists, but for people like Jungkook, the validation is personal. 
“It’s beautiful,” Jungkook says when he’s read it thrice through, running his thumb over a picture of you. “Really organic. Really, real.”
“Really?”
“Really,” he chuckles, having run out of adverbs. “It’s funny, too. I liked your little internal monologue. I wish I knew how you felt back then.” 
“I wish you did, too.” 
You’re quietly munching on a strawberry, looking over a polaroid Jungkook took. It was  sometime in the beginning of senior year, where you’ve fallen asleep on his mattress, drool drying on your mouth. Normally you’d be opposed to having such unflattering, grainy pictures amongst your writing, but it encapsulates the youth you’ve tried so hard to chase away. 
“How do you feel?” Jungkook says, switching out the magazine for the plate of fruit, placing it on his side. 
“Feel great, actually,” you muse, smiling to yourself. By no means are you a hero writing some grand gesture in an entertainment magazine, but you feel like you’ve saved yourself. You’ve savored your youth in four thousand words, cutting out the poison and keeping the moment as sweet as it can be. 
“I’m proud of you,” he reaches to ruffle your hair, and you don’t even get mad when it tousles out of your pinned style. 
Reveling in the attention, you simply close your eyes and feed yourself a handful of blueberries. 
“Love that I make money, but I definitely miss college from time to time,” Jungkook stretches, jostling you out of your comfortable position. “Like I remember Taehyung and I would take turns bringing backpacks to the dining hall so we could stuff fruit in it for later.”
“Yeah, but as much as I loved college I wouldn’t go back,” you nod to yourself, “I’m happy where I am now.” 
“What about when we stayed up for midnight breakfast? The dining hall was filled to the brim with food. Remember when I tried to eat a whole stack of pancakes?” 
“Jungkook…” 
“Or when our classes got cancelled and we went to Lotte World? You ate way too much funnel cake and I had to carry you to the car!” 
“Jungkook—” 
“And that one time we snuck out to the music hall’s rooftop?” words gush out of Jungkook’s mouth like a waterfall, unable to relent, “that’s when I realized I liked you. I liked you so much, I tried to tell you that night but choked—”
“Jungkook!” and he immediately zips up, frowning. You straighten up, on your knees as you reach over to run your hands through his onyx tresses, moving the styled strands to the back of his pierced ears, “Jungkook,” you repeat softly, “I’ve heard all these stories, I was there for most of them. As much as I love the past… can we talk about something else?” you give him a small, tentative smile to show him you’re not mad, but a little uncomfortable at his reminiscing. 
He leans into your touch, pressing your palm against the soft swell of his warm cheek. “Okay,” he agrees, resting one hand on your thigh. 
You’re roped in his gaze, and you have to force yourself to breathe when Jungkook moves closer to you. He hooks a leg behind his back, and another across his lap. A cool breeze kisses your inner thighs when your skirt exposes your cotton underwear. You should be embarrassed but instead you’re fixated, unable to understand what he’s trying to accomplish. 
“Then I’m gonna talk about the future,” Jungkook traps you between the couch, his thumb running hot circles to where your skirt has hiked up. It exposes a slip of the thigh that Jungkook has seen a million times. He’s seen you walking around your apartment in a large shirt, ridden up to your boyshorts. It’s different now, you feel exposed and tingly, thrumming with excitement. “I like you, obviously anticipated news and old news. I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to go on dates with you, re-watch Avatar, grumble when I force you to come to the gym with me,” he bumps noses with you when you scrunch yours, “I wanna be with you. Heck, I’ve even cleared space in my spare room so you’d have closet space for all your fancy designer suits if you ever need it.”
“You cleared space?” you manage to choke out. Visions of a shared apartment roll through your brain. Cooking meals together, having two toothbrushes side by side, and waking up to his face. 
“Of course I did. Do you know how financially attractive you are?” he says lightheartedly, “you’re a sexy working woman and it’s crazy to imagine you’d want to settle for me and my little apartment. But I have to try now because if I don’t, it’ll be too late.” 
“That’s not true,” you retort, “you’re not someone I’d settle for. I want you, and no one else.” 
He chuckles, running a thumb over your cheek. “Then what are we waiting for? Your key’s hiding under the mat.” 
“Jungkook…” on the tip of your tongue lays the words you’re going too fast but it doesn’t make its way to the air. 
“But do you really think it’s too fast?” he reads your face clearly, “these feelings never went anywhere. They were locked away, sure. And I loved her,” he can’t even say the name, not when you’re warm and flush against him, “but I loved our friendship more.”
“I… I don’t know what to say,” you breathe, letting the cogs in your brain roll until sparks develop. 
“You don’t have to say anything,” he concedes, “I just wanted to let you know. Could’ve done the letter thing all over again and let the past repeat itself. I know Namjoon wouldn’t hide a love letter for two years, but if I left another damn letter he’d definitely make a copy and tease me about it.” 
You snort, pressing your forehead to his. You’re practically buried in the couch now, tingly and vibrating with happiness. “And I’m not going to leave you hanging. I do want to say something,” and he looks at you expectantly, licking the leftover berry juice on his lips, nearly making you miss your train of thought, “I like you too,” you say, the other L-word is also applicable, but you feel like that phrase is reserved for another time, “I want to show you off on work vacations, bring you along as my date and show them you’re my muse,” you confess, “I wanna play video games with you ‘till 2AM, and eat ice cream in the comfort of our apartment instead of our cars because we’re too stubborn to admit we don’t wanna go home without each other.” 
Jungkook absolutely preens at the affection, sending you a heart melting smile that has your stomach doing backflips.
“Jungkook, I want to fall in love with you again.” 
Your squeal of surprise is swallowed by Jungkook’s lips, tasting of mangoes and berries as strong hands cup your backside, easily lifting you onto his lap. You plop under his strong thighs, feeling them flex against yours. The both of you are pouring in this kiss, raining with promises and hopes for a future with each other. His taste is concentrated, and you can feel the devotion practically injected in his embrace. 
When he pulls away his lips are cherry-red and shiny, looking up at you through clear coffee eyes. “This isn’t a dream, right?” he looks at you up and down, unable to decipher fact from fiction, “because I distinctly remember two wet dreams that involve you looking like this.” 
Looking down, you heat at the disarray you’re in. Hair wild and parted in different wavelengths, tired of the day’s efforts. Your slightly sheer dress-shirt is rumpled, the lace collar opened with two popped buttons revealing your cleavage, and your skirt is stretched so tight that it’s ruched all the way up your thighs. Sprawled across Jungkook’s lap, you’re dangerously close to something long and hard. 
Emboldened, you clutch at Jungkook’s collar, pulling him closer. 
“Show me what happens in your dream,” you whisper into his ear, barely brushing your clothed core against his crotch, “maybe we can make it come true tonight.” 
You can’t see his face, but you feel something dark and sensual overtake him. The grip on your ass tightens, a delicious pain that has you pressing your breasts against him and nipping on his ear, your tongue darting sensually through the cold silver hoops that dart through his skin. 
Within seconds, he rips you away from his neck and demands, “Open.” 
Dazed, you barely get a centimeter of your mouth open when Jungkook presses something cold and sugary against your lips. Whipped cream. You manage to take a small bite of the tart strawberry that he holds by the viridian stem, rolling the flavor between your mouth as Jungkook paints the leftover whipped cream over your lips. Once he’s satisfied he then creates a white trail that leads to your cleavage. 
Better than any dream, his eyes drink you in like the last glass of water in a desert. Your lips are swollen and parted like a baby kitten, covered in the creamy confection. “So pretty,” he exhales, his hot tongue licking from your cleavage to your lips, swallowing the flavor of you and strawberry juice, “such a pretty girl you are, and all mine.” 
“Yours,” you submit easily, rolling your hips against his. 
At that moment you think you’re meant to fall in love this way. You can’t imagine the shy, fumbly Jungkook and your equally confused self waltzing around a relationship when you barely had your lives together. The two of you still had growing to do. The wait is certainly worth it, because as you feel his arms tighten around you, you’re sure this love will stay strong.
It’s difficult for you to find a rhythm at first, what with Jungkook’s strength and need to be satiated, both of you are sloppy but the friction is nothing less than delicious. Your finger reaches over to swipe at the leftover cream on the plate, and you press your finger to Jungkook’s mouth, and he immediately complies. A dollop of sweet cream leaks out of his lips and your panties dampen further when you feel his tongue lick you clean, imagaining how good it would feel if it was your pussy he was licking. 
Your mouth waters at the feeling of his dick lining up against your core, as sticky as the strawberry juice that clings to your bodies. 
“C-can I make a confession? I—oh, Jungkook…” your mind is all fuzzed up when he snaps his hips against yours, causing you to shamelessly bounce on his length. 
“Yeah?” 
“I… I like it when you use all your strength like that,” his hips slow as your words sink in, but you don’t mind as it gives you time to make a long drag along the entirety of his member. “Everytime you pull me up when I trip, or you come back from a workout, I like it when you carry me around like I weigh nothing.” 
“Do—do you think about it a lot?” he grunts, and you stifle a moan when he does a slow, hard drag against your wet folds. “Tell the truth.” 
“It’s, it’s embarrassing,” you whimper, unable to think straight with the amount of stimuli you’re receiving.  
“Please, baby.” 
“Yes mm—oh! I do,” you try to get the words out as quickly as you can. He stops moving, and you groan in frustration so you just lay it all out on the table. “I, I love it when you hold me in your strong arms. And, ah, uh w-henever you come back from the gym you just look so sexy fresh from the shower. Sometimes I think about how you’re too damn nice for your own good but I bet you’d be so rough in bed.” 
“Really?” and then he’s shoving you onto the couch, air brushing against your bare thighs as your back hits the beige throw pillows. He’s hovering, dark eyes starting from the tip of your toes to your damp lips. “You like it when I manhandle you? Throw you around like a little doll?” 
“All that strength, and for what?” you try to keep your snappy remarks in check, but it’s hard when he’s pressing his straining dick against your thigh, weeping and needy. 
“You’re not gonna be joking about my strength anytime soon, baby,” emblazoned, he easily throws your leg over his shoulder, pushing your panties to the side to let your wetness leak out and onto his fingers, “are you gonna complain or be a good girl?” 
“Yes, I’m ah—” you wince when he inserts a finger, “I’ll be good for you,” 
“My good girl,” he revels in the way you melt under his touch, your previous sarcasm quickly dissolving into a puddle. You always had an inkling that Jungkook would be a sneaky fox in bed, all that muscle hidden behind a kind smile and a penchant for tea with milk and honey. 
Jungkook slips in another finger, stretching you and preparing you for what’s to come. He’s scissoring you at a sensible pace that has you squirming and wanting more. To prevent you from shimmying off the couch he holds you down with his free hand, and you love the way he practically feeds you to the couch, hands dancing over your neck as he shoves you further into the furniture. 
“You look so gorgeous,” he says, causing you to moan and keen at his attention, “you’re such a strong, gorgeous woman. Having you sprawled out like this, ready to do whatever I want to you is so fucking hot.” 
“I’m—I’m only weak for you Jungkook,” you say honestly, tears pricking when he dips another finger. The stretch burns deliciously, and your folds eagerly swallow him up until you’re filled to the brim. Your fingers or toys cannot compare to flesh, and you sigh in relief when you see his inked fingers pick up the pace once more. 
“You’re damn right,” Jungkook husks, and with a grain of love he murmurs in your ear, “I’m only weak for you, too.” 
And that’s when he snaps, thumb rolling against your bud as he slams his other fingers against you, going at a brutal pace. You cry out, not caring whether his neighbors hear as he pulls you back and forth through pleasure and pain. 
“T-too much, Kookie,” you mewl, your hand warbling to find his, “I, ah, ‘m gonna cum!” 
“That’s the plan,” he only goes faster, stretching your band further and further before your desired high is reached. His hand trails up to force your chin straight, looking up at him, “let go for me, baby. Wanna feel your pussy clench around my fingers.” 
In seconds, you gush. It has you in a slight panic, drunk on endorphins as you try to lift your head up but Jungkook’s hand is firmly pressing you on your shoulder as he fingers you efficiently through your high, the wet squelching sounds only increasing with your cries. His lap is drenched in your arousal, along with his chin and lips glistening with your essence. 
He finally releases you when you’re practically shaking, his hands sticky and creamy. You moan when he shamelessly licks them within your view, making sure to wrap his tongue around his ink-stained digits. 
“I,” your mouth is dry when you feel the dampness that hits your bottom, “I’ve never, I don’t remember ever—” 
Your babbles are lost between your throat and Jungkook’s tongue, shoved deep into your mouth. Tasting your arousal has you practically vibrating in your place, as you two rut against each other like hungry bunnies. 
“God, you’re amazing,” he says between pecks, kissing away your face of any tears you may have pricked, “Amazing, adorable, absolutely beautifulIadoreyousoso—” 
“Pleasepleaseplease,” you press your hips up, wiggling for more attention, “please fuck me, Jungkook.” 
You can’t help the witchy, satisfied smile when Jungkook’s eyes darken to a thick coal, “Anything for you,” he murmurs, swinging your legs between his arms as he lifts you like a feather. 
On his lap again, you soon accept that the way you two mesh like puzzle pieces is one of your favorite positions as it gives you both equal space to ravish each other. 
Just when your hand trails to the waistband of his boxer briefs and you’re rolling your thumb over its collected moisture, the moment is shattered when the doorbell rings. You jump in his arms, unprepared for your moment to be interrupted. 
He groans into the crown of your hair, and you soften in his relaxed hold, “I ordered us pizza,” he nearly forgot. 
Perking your head up to look at him you regard him innocently, as if you didn’t release a waterfall on his sweats two seconds ago. “You got us pizza?” 
“I knew you’d be coming over tonight,” he’s pouting into your neck, regretting ever having called the pizza guy if he knew this would happen, “Victoria posted the publish date on Twitter. I just didn’t think,” he gestures vaguely to the mess on his pants, “this would happen.”  
“Damn, and here I thought I was being sneaky,” you chuckle, flicking his ear playfully. 
He gives you an uncharacteristically subby whine, shamelessly upset he has to let you go so fast after he’s given you your first of many highs. Before he weakens further under your beauty, he unceremoniously shoves you off. “Sorry, pretty girl,” you melt at the easy way his pet name rolls off his lips, “can you wait in my room for a bit so I can pay the delivery guy? I don’t want them to see you like this.” 
“But I want to eat pizza,” you declare stubbornly, standing up to button your blouse and pull down your skirt. 
Before you could fasten one button or pull down one centimeter, his hand darts out to snatch your wrist away from your body. It doesn’t hurt much, but it causes your body to heat in more places than one. He’s sexy like this, demanding your attention. “No,” he rumbles definitively, “my room. Now.” 
“Why?” you throw your hands in the air, yelping when he slaps your ass. He makes sure to make it sting, cupping you fully. 
“Because,” he says firmly, “you don’t get to eat until I eat,” you whimper when his hand reaches to cup your sex, panties wet and cold without his warmth as he pushes you in the direction of his bedroom. 
Oh, you can’t wait for both of you to eat tonight. 
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some time later.
“Ohmygod the view is beautiful!” Krystal, who works in advertisement, squeals. “No filter needed!” 
“Alright alright, make room Princess,” Namjoon teases. With a bump to Krystal’s tiny hips Namjoon shoves you two across the pavilion, putting his arm around you once he finds the perfect angle, “Umji, can you get a pic of me and my Work Wife? I want this on the Big Hit Instagram!” 
You hold your straw sunhat down from the salty wind, smiling beautifully as Umji takes multiple pictures of you and Namjoon from her Nikon. Another successful year under your notch, ending with a successful work retreat. 
“Namjoon, can I take a picture with my actual wife now?” 
“We’re not married, Jungkook,” you chastise, patting the chest of Namjoon’s floral printed Hawaiian shirt so he can switch. Instantly, Jungkook slides up next to you like a picture perfect stock model piece, and you wrap your arms around his trim waist, “we’re not even engaged.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he pouts, looking over the pavilion and adjusting the both of you so there’s a good amount of you and the resort in the background. The sun may be scathingly hot, but it looks beautiful perched over the crystal clear waters. “Namjoon, you got it easy,” Jungkook says when he hands him your phone, “every angle is our good angle, so you can’t mess it up.” 
Being the honest man he is, Namjoon knows better and doesn’t say anything to that. Instead he shoots down whatever pineapple-flavored concoction is offered to him on a silver platter, and starts shooting. 
“Is this swimsuit new?” Jungkook murmurs into your ear between shots, flicking your little red number by the strap connecting the back, “because I didn’t see this in the luggage.” 
You smile big, pearly whites as Namjoon demands to pop out your butt and work it, pressing your body closer to Jungkook’s. “Tiny enough so I could hide it in my purse,” you reply proudly, voice low for only each other’s ears, “why, surprised?” 
“Definitely not prepared,” his fingers dig deliciously in your bare flesh, “would Victoria fire you if she catches us doing it in the cabana?” 
Amused that your boyfriend now shares your combined awe and fear of your boss, you twist his nipple lightly. He yelps, and from Namjoon’s guaff he’s definitely got that on camera. “We didn’t come to Boracay to fuck in the cabana.” 
“Then the hotel room?” 
Namjoon hands you back your phone when he considers his job done, letting you and Jungkook have some alone time. You wave your phone in his face, trying to get him to focus on the task at hand. You wanted to post some cute pictures of you and your boyfriend, one to impress the family back home and the Big Hit interns back in Seoul who are absolutely pining for your position. 
“Jungkook, they have the water ski thing where you can flip in the water mid air! Doesn’t that sound fun? Or we can go scuba diving, have Filipino food, or get massages. LIterally, we’re on Big Hit’s dime, and the first thing you want to do is go back to the room?” 
“Yes,” he pouts petulantly, leaning into the hollow of your ear and whispering, “got a chub on.” 
Discreetly so, your hands brush against his navy trunks and you note yes, he’s half hard. “No!” you shake your head definitively, pushing him out of your arms. You’re not letting sex get in the way of your hard-earned vacation, you’re on company dime and you intend to milk every peso of it. “Namjoon, take him away!” 
You blow him a kiss and follow another group who’s decided to go eat, watching your boyfriend get dragged away by Namjoon’s long arms. Krystal, who’s been mildly watching the whole ordeal in-between taking selfies, looks at you in awe, “You got it good, bosslady,” she says, and you happily link arms with her in the direction of the restaurants. 
You and Jungkook definitely have it good. You don’t see him until dinnertime, looking utterly relaxed as he sips on a mango-muddled concoction. He must’ve gotten a couples massage with Namjoon, cute. Splitting up was definitely a good idea, by the time your meal arrives the two of you are practically leaning against each other, telling each other what events you need to do tomorrow and events you think will be fun to do together. 
“Joon,” Jungkook is throwing an arm over your Wusband’s shoulder, mildly tipsy. The image is adorable, as Jungkook long ago previously confessed that he felt a little jealous of Namjoon’s work relationship with you before you were dating. Now, it feels like they’re best friends and you’re third-wheeling. “What do you think about having halo-halo tomorrow? It’s like bingsu but with a bunch of other good stuffs. There’s red bean, mango, ube, ice cream…” 
Just as Jungkook begins his tirade of dessert ingredients, you pull up your phone to check on your social media. You smile back at your profile, seeing your latest Instagram post at the very top of the feed. Not to flex, but the two of you look pretty smokin’ since you’ve been keeping up with Jungkook’s insistence to join him at the gym. Jungkook and you are leaning against the pristine veranda, overlooking the clear blue water and a cloudless sky. The smiles you two sport are genuine and utterly in love. 
You scroll down the comments, most of them filled with sweet messages but one of them has you doing a double take. 
@sooyaaa__: 😒😒😒 knew something was goin on behind my back… good riddance
The smell of Jungkook’s detergent overtakes your nostrils, and you turn to him. He’s stopped talking, now immersed in whatever’s going on in your phone. 
“The nerve of her,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, disgusted at her latest comment. “As if anyone would believe her.” 
“Yeah,” you echo, “I feel bad for her, though. She’s probably lonely.” 
“Her loss, she put this upon herself. Not us.” 
You pout, “I know, but she was my friend at one point.” 
He frowns, putting an arm behind your backrest. It would be easy for him to say yeah, and she was my girlfriend and one-up you, leaving it at that. But now he knows better, and that friendship is a much better value than an ill-fated relationship. “Sorry baby,” it’s not his fault, but he sees your disappointment in putting out hope for an old friend. He gives you a little smooch on your temple, “do you miss her?” 
“The old her, yeah,” you sigh, clicking on her profile, “but now? I can do without her negativity.” 
“Okay,” he takes your phone from your hand, “have you ever blocked a person before?”
“No.”
“Well, today’s the day,” he says it so coolly, you barely have time to think when he clicks the ‘block’ button on Jisoo’s profile, then clicking off his phone to put in his pocket. “No more phone for today,” he proceeds to take your plate that was recently served, taking the time to cut your large vegetables into smaller portions. “Like you said, we shouldn’t waste your vacation time.” 
Your heart swells with butterflies for Jeon Jungkook, who’s meticulously cutting your food and telling you to relax and stop dwelling on the past. He’s right, if Jisoo’s not going to stick around for the future and continue to cause negativity in your life, why not keep the positives in the past while it lasted? 
“You know I love you, right?” 
He ceases cutting, and looks at you to pop a sweet potato in his mouth. “Love me enough to do it in the cabana?” 
He’s still on that? “Jungkook,” you warn, pretending to get up, “forget I said anything. I’m gonna go karaoke with Umji.” 
“Kiddingggg,” he whines, pulling you back down with an outstretched hand, “you know I love you too.” 
“You’re terrible.” 
“Only this way because I’d know you’d totally be into cabana sex if we were vacationing by ourselves.” 
“Yes, but you’re still terrible,” you giggle when Jungkook steals a kiss, just as easy as he’s stolen your heart.  
3K notes · View notes
obeiii-mee · 3 years
Note
Could I request the brothers (and maybe Diavolo, if you're comfortable) reacting to a knightly/chivalrous m/c, please?
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I haven’t written Diavolo in a hot minute, I’m glad he’s being requested again. I’m guessing you mean an MC with the attributes of a knight? The same sort of mannerisms and traits and not an actual knight! MC? Lemme know if I did this ask wrong because I was low key confused lmao.
———————————————————
The Brothers + Diavolo with a knightly/chivalrous MC:
Lucifer:
-He really didn’t like you upon first meeting
-He hated how he couldn’t intimidate you into not being a nuisance the way he could with most of his brothers
-But, to be honest, you had gained his respect rather early on
-I think, even though it may have annoyed him to no end, Lucifer was very fond of your bravery a lot of the times
-The way you would stand up for Mammon or that time you protected Beel and Luke from his outburst
-Courage is not a trait one would usually associate with humans, especially when more superior beings like demons are involved
-Your humility was also a characteristic of yours that he, surprisingly, was really fond of
-And your overall mercifulness was something to be congratulated as well
-I mean, him and his brothers put you through so much shit and for you to forgive and move on without an angry word at any of them kinda speaks on its own
-I think he understands, to an extent, the reason you’re so loyal to the people you care about too
-He has a certain devotion for Lord Diavolo and his brothers, more than he lets on
-To him, having someone like you around is something to be appreciated
-Because you are similar but also completely different and nothing like he deemed you to be at the beginning
-yo i think you remind him of himself back when he was angel tbh
-He’s sort of tired of saving your ass tho because you are very just, so you feel the need to help people all the time which leads to you getting involved in fights
-Bring him his 20th cup of coffee for the day please, it’s hard being a single father of 8 children (yes I’ve added Lord Diavolo he counts as one of the kids)
-He’s the definition of this incorrect quote I stumbled across a while back
- MC: “FIGHT ME RIGHT NOW!”
-Lucifer, from behind them “ Do not.”
Mammon:
-Ok so this random human comes to DevilDom and has the audacity to slap his hand away while he’s trying to steal from Diavolo’s castle????????
-“MC ya’re forgetting I’m a demon, my moral scale is wayyy different than yours-“
-“Put it back.”
-“......ok.”
-You’re coming at him with rightfulness and honor and your presence is gonna hit him like a truck
-Cuz he ain’t stealing anything when you’re around (lucifer uses this to his advantage ofc.)
-That was basically the only thing he disliked about you
-Other than that, after your first week in DevilDom, he thinks you’re a goddamn S A I N T
-Everytime you stand up for him when his brothers are being assholes-pls he melts into a puddle of goo from your perfection
-OOFFS AND ALL THOSE TIMES YOU GAVE HIM GIFTS BECAUSE GENEROSITY BBY
-Good thing he was wearing sunglasses, because holy fuck was he weeping under those Gucci shades
-He’s gonna give ya props for having the courage to stand up to him and his brothers
-Lucifer especially because big bro scary
-Think about it like this: literally every single one of them could have you seasoned and roasted for lunch, love
-And yet you still have the bravery to look them in the eye and tell them: “Ya’ll are dysfunctional as fuck and need family therapy.”
-Again, he doesn’t understand your morale, he’s the Avatar of Greed, if he sees something he likes or seems worthy of his presence, he takes it
-But with that look you’re giving him, he honestly feels so guilty he can’t help but put it back
-He also appreciates your patience with him when it comes to anything that involves him talking about his emotions and thought process
-Because at this point he is widely known as scum so-
-Ahhhh, in the end, he thinks you’re pretty badass for a human and would low key want to see you in an armour of sorts agajwhisebhwjwwhehgdhdh
-And he really likes it when you make the effort to open doors for him too but he’ll never have the nerve to admit it
Levi:
-Believe it or not, he warms up to you in less than a day...?
-It’s probably because he’s a navy commander and he’s used to having soldiers around and you sort of remind him of that
-Out of everyone, he reacts the least when he sees how you carry yourself because to him it’s second nature
-Even if he does tend to slouch most of the time
-Almost dropped to his knees and started worshiping you when you yelled at Mammon to give Levi his money back on your first day
-And then a friendship started to blossom (im not friendzoning y’all, relax)
-Levi has a tendency to just walk into your room with his laptop, point at the screen which is paused in the middle of an anime and go “Look, the protagonist is a knight. You’re also...really knightly. I like the protagonist. I, uh I like you too, I guess.”
-He loves how honest you are because he knows that no matter what you wouldn’t lie to him
-“MC, do you think I’m a yucky otaku?”
-“No.”
-“But-“
-“No.”
-“Oh ok.”
-But on the inside he’s like 🥰🥰💞💞💞💞
-I just think that a knightly MC would connect on an emotional level with Levi for a lot of reasons, idk
-He’s gonna be a sputtering mess when he realises how much effort you put into this relationship (platonic or romantic) and how loyal you are to it
-Like how you actually bother learning all of his stupid passwords because you are just as serious about them as he is
-He just crashed, give him a moment to reboot please
Satan:
-He takes a while to warm up to you because for some reason your overall demeanour reminded him of Lucifer lol
-He thought you might be just as stuck up as him
-It didn’t take him longer than a week or so to come to the sudden realisation that you are way more pleasant than his brother
-Like his daddy, you manage to earn his respect pretty quickly after that
-He just thought the way you handled everything that was thrown at you in DevilDom was very sophisticated but firm nonetheless, if that makes sense?
-Like, you weren’t itching to escalate fights or anything but your tone of voice could easily end a whole conversation if need be
-You were still a human of course, it would be real easy for some low rank demon to kidnap you or something
-But for some reason, your confidence seemed to intimidate a few of the weaker ones into leaving you alone
-Obviously, that didn’t mean you were completely safe or anything
-There were still others that could effortlessly overpower you
-Even so, Satan found it sort of reassuring that unlike some humans, you weren’t one to back down without a confrontation
-Don’t get me started on all those times you rebelled against Lucifer, because that’s what truly got him to get to know you better
-He found you pretty interesting and then that interest sort of evolved into actual fondness
-Another thing that caught his eye was that even though you have very strong feelings about justice and fairness, you are completely level headed most of the time
-And patience, while it’s something he can manage, is the one that he has been trying to control for centuries
-He learned a lot from you about behaviour, whether you intentionally taught it to him or not
-And if there is one thing Satan thinks highly of; it would be knowledge
-Therefore, from that point onward, your existence was so much more precious to him than your soul could ever be
Asmo:
-What can I say about our sweet Asmo?
-You could have the personality of a trashcan and he’d still love you
-You were so polite and honourable from the beginning to the point you managed to get the attention of the Avata of Lust himself????
-He thought you were pretty hot basically
-hoWEVER
-Your righteousness always sort of nagged him because he low-key believed Diavolo snuck in another angel into the program, I-
-And for some reason, your loyalty to everyone in general ticked him off immensely at the beginning
-Mainly because he recognised that’s one of the traits he lacks entirely and he came to the conclusion that he needs to revaluate himself on that one
-He is so desperate for your attention, he will tattle on his brothers just to get you to yell at them and then comfort him
-“MCCCCC, MAMMON STOLE MY NEWEST MAKE UP KIT AND IS ABOUT TO SELL IT ON AKUZON!”
-he is so petty istg
-Your nobility still catches him off guard every now and then
-Because you’ve been living with demons for so long and yet you’re still, theoretically speaking, pure?? get your head out of the gutter people
-He probably applauds you on the fact that you can even scare Lucifer on some occasions because imagine having a scarier death glare than the eldest prince of hell
-Asmo will personally buy you clothes that he thinks suit your “aesthetic” (wtf Asmo)
-Might’ve bought you a sword and then got shouted at by Lucifer because oops turns out it was cursed
-Again, supportive mom vibes
-“MC, do you know how stunning you look strutting around with that confidence of yours? Don’t get me started on your posTURE!”
-You pulled a chair for him once and he practically swooned lmao
Beel:
-He figures you’re really nice from the start
-Mostly because you kept running errands and opening doors for him even though he let it slip that he might lose control and eat you
-Like most brothers, he finds you comforting in a way
-Beel appreciates your honesty to him too because he can count on you to tell him when he’s doing something wrong
-And he sort of needs the validation that even though he blames himself for a lot of things that took place in the past, his brothers and you are more than ready to forgive him (even if they didn’t blame him to begin with)
-Rather than respect, Beel puts a lot of trust into you, which I would believe to be more intimate
-If it’s just the two of you hanging out, he has an easier time opening up about Lilith because he knows you would never judge him and respect his feelings enough to let him get it out of his system
-You always share your food with him and give him a bigger portion and he goes so soft-
-Like who allowed you to be this generous?
-Tbh, he thinks it’s sort of refreshing having someone like you around
-Beel has been surrounded by demons for millenniums now and he’s gotten used to their...uh ‘evilness’
-Ever since you got dropped off in DevilDom, you really stood out with your nobility and morals
-It was like a breath of fresh air in a way
-He may or may not believe you’re a good influence on his siblings-if you can even influence demons of all things
-I’m not saying he invites you to work out with him and give him honest criticism, but he definitely invites you to work out with him and give him honest criticism
Belphie:
-“Out of all the humans they could’ve chosen, they picked the most annoying one, oH MY FUCKING GO-I MEAN DAD-“
-You go up to the attic that one night after tricking Lucifer into vibing to some classical TSL tunes
-He spotted you and was immediately irritated
-Like, he KNEW you were going to be a pain in the ass just by judging your posture and how you carried yourself (very knightly)
-At the start, he’s even hesitant to lie to you because he had a suspicion you wouldn’t buy his bs
-(Spoiler alert: you didn’t but you went with it either way)
-It takes a while for you to forgive him when he literally fucking kills you because that was rude af but you got over it in time
-AFTER of the whole ‘Sorry-for-choking-you-can-we-be-friends-now’ incident, you still get on his nerves a lot but at this point, he believes that’s his punishment for being a murderous dickhead
-You don’t really piss him off tho, you just confuse him a lot
-Why are you so polite? You keep pulling chairs and opening doors for him??? Why are you treating him like royalty?? Stop it, he doesn’t want to be like Lord Diavolo (he def likes it when you do that)
-Pls stop dragging the poor man to breakfast, he just wants to sleep in-
-He doesn’t understand how you’re always one time for everything
-My dude tries to wake up 20 minutes early to get somewhere in time and he is still 2 hours late
-sTOP TRYING TO FORCE YOUR IDEALS ONTO HIM, HE’S A LITTLE SHIT WHO ENJOYS WATCHING PEOPLE SUFFER
-All the same, you’re a very forgiving person so he’s just grateful you don’t hate him or anything
-And in the end, it doesn’t really matter how much your chivalry and righteousness and all of that pisses him off every now and then
-Because he can’t deny the fact that you brought him and his brothers the peace they needed
-And he so loves it when you and Lucifer go head to head mhmm
Diavolo:
-This big tittied man right here takes a liking to you immediately
-A couple of days in DevilDom and he’s already inviting you for tea at his castle
-You managed to befriend the prince of hell faster than the demons you live with, huh
-He’s lonely ok? He loves having people over and having cozy chitchats
-Not to mention he thinks you’re such pleasant company!
-Most demons would be afraid to even say anything in his presence but you always speak your mind while continuing to be respectful and he’s so happy, you don’t understand-
-Only demons in close relations to Diavolo like Babrbatos and Lucifer actually know how much it takes for someone to anger him
-He doesn’t take offence to much lol
-And he’s really content that you acknowledged that
-He sometimes visits you in his spare time just to talk and hang out since Lucifer is a big meanie who doesn’t want to indulge him and Barbatos is busy making him dinner >:(
-SPEAKING OF- if you and Barbatos don’t bond then i don’t know what to tell you
-I mean, you would both have so many things in common (strong sense of loyalty, honesty, just in a way etc.)
-You’re his favourite guest to have over at the palace, sorry Luci you’ve been replaced
-He genuinely finds you interesting as well so please tell him stories from the human realm!! He’s dying to learn more!
-Diavolo notices you demeanour sort of gives off warrior vibes so-
-He really considered making you into a knight bc it’s Diavolo-what he says; goes
-“I know they’re human but they’ll be fine. Look how tough they are! They managed to survive a year with you and your brothers didn’t they?”
-“My Lord, that doesn’t amount to anything, please don’t get our human killed-“
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shoutaaizawas · 4 years
Note
Can I request an arrange marriage au with the prompt “Please just kiss me already.” With Hawks?
thank you for the request!!
↳ takami keigo x reader → ❝wings❞
event: au prompts summary: the hero commission wanted you to marry hawks for their own gain. it’s hard for you to accept the loss of freedom but will you gain feelings for him? word count: 7k tags/warnings: drama, fluff, angst, tw kidnapping a/n: um this got a bit out of hand i don’t know what happened edit: i most definitely used the wrong dialogue prompt 😞 i fixed it tho pls excuse my dumb brain
Hawks experienced few freedoms in his life. Since he was young he had been under the hero commissions thumb. It didn’t come as a surprise that they would control this part of his life as well.
Of course, the hero commission would want to ensure their greatest weapon would live on through his bloodline. Hawks wasn’t sure what to think, he supposed that it was in his best interest not to think about it. It wasn’t like he had a choice.
The ground rules were pretty simple, he was to publicly ‘date’ you for a time, then eventually propose and marry you. It didn’t have to be a big spectacle but just enough that people didn’t question the legitimacy of the marriage. You didn’t have to like each other, you didn’t have to get along, you didn’t even have to live in the same house for all they cared. The only thing the commission wanted was for Hawks to have children with a similar quirk if not a better one.
Hawks shoved it down but the thought made him sick. It was all too easy to remember how they had treated him as a child, took his name away, his identity, they took everything from him. They expected him to have a child and let them do the same to his own blood?
He pushed away the thought, he had no choice. He had no freedom.
You were in a similar boat with Hawks. Your family had given you up when you were young and you had a strong quirk. The commission was more than happy to take you in and turn you into a hero. Your quirk was best suited to rescue work, once they trained you and sent you off into the hero world it was easy to forget that they had you under their thumb. It was rare that they asked anything of you other than to go on certain missions.
That was until they called you in one day and told you their plans. It was hard to accept. They wanted you to marry a man you had never even spoken to just to have children they could train into heroes. It revolted you but you had little choice, the hero commission was too powerful and there was little you could do.
Hawks was handsome, you’d give him that. He stood leaning against a wall clad in a black jacket, white shirt, and dark jeans. You watched as he looked down at his phone before he glanced around the area looking for someone. His gaze caught sight of you and a look of recognition passed through his eyes. He called out your hero name as he stood up straight.
“Hey, fancy meeting you here.” He said with a charming smile. You thought to yourself that in another life you might just be a normal girl meeting a normal guy for a normal first date. There would be butterflies in your stomach as his golden eyes met yours.
But this wasn’t that life. You were someone being forced to marry a man you didn’t know. There were no butterflies, just numbness.
“Almost like we planned it.” You said but there was no playfulness in your voice.
“Heh, yeah.” He said rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I got you these, I know that these aren’t normal circumstances but that doesn’t mean I can’t get you some flowers.”
Hawks held out the flowers, it was a small bouquet but it was pretty, wrapped in brown paper.
“Thank you, that’s thoughtful of you.” You said with a small forced smile. You hated the circumstances you were in but you had the feeling that Hawks was in a similar position as you were so the last thing you wanted was to take it out on him.
Dinner was awkward, for all Hawk’s charm in the media it seemed a romantic dinner was enough to throw him off. You couldn’t blame him, you weren’t used to dating. You didn’t have the time to waste on it.
You couldn’t say that you hated Hawks, his awkwardness was surprisingly endearing. A part of you wished you could pretend it was your choice to be with him and throw yourself into the relationship but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel anything.
“I know that we didn’t choose this but I hope we can make the best of it.” Hawks said as you walked out of the restaurant. You looked at him standing there, his crimson wings behind him folded. It was hard not to admire them.
“Look at those wings. Stunning. You could do whatever you want with them. Fly off, anywhere, nothing could stop you. Yet you're here with me.” You said looking at him carefully. “The two of us, powerful heroes but all we really are is two birds locked in a cage.”
“I guess that’s just how it is.” He said his lighthearted demeanor gone.
“Yeah, I suppose so.”
Rationally you knew that it was in your best interest to get to know Hawks. That would only make your life easier, accepting what you knew you couldn’t change. You felt bad, you knew that Hawks was trying his best to go with it despite his lack of experience with relationships.
He gave you gifts, they were surprisingly thoughtful considering you didn’t express your interests to him. He texts you a lot, little things throughout the day. It was oddly endearing and you respected the fact that he didn’t give up despite your lack of interest.
It was a late night, you were over at Hawks apartment for dinner. He invited you over asking for your opinion on a case he was working on. You knew that he used that as an excuse to have you over but you still went with it.
His attempt to make you dinner was valiant even if you had to step in to keep him from burning the place down. It was the thought that counted.
Sitting down in the living room with him, you sipped on a glass of wine. It was rare for you to drink often considering you were always on call as a hero and you assumed Hawks was the same with how tipsy he was after a glass. Not that you could point fingers because you were the same.
“I’m sorry, you’ve tried so hard with me but I can barely manage to smile at you.” You said it seemed the solution to your numbness was at the bottom of a glass of wine. “It was so easy to pretend that I was a normal hero, that I went to a school like everyone else, like I picked my hero name like everyone else, that I had a childhood. But this, us, it makes it impossible to forget. It’s in my face every day that I wake up, every time that I see you. I can’t lie to myself anymore.”
“I accepted that I had no freedom a long time ago.” He said looking at you with sad eyes. You had never seen him look like anything other than the carefree hero the people saw. “That I’m nothing more than a weapon for people playing games that I have no interest in.”
Even without him elaborating you knew that he had been through much more than you had. Your heart sunk in your chest.
“I understand how you’re feeling. I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything, you have enough pressure from the commission.” He said looking serious. “It’s just when I met you I thought that even if this wasn’t my choice it didn’t mean that it couldn’t be a good thing. I’ve been alone so long, it might be nice to be lonely together. I can’t think of anyone else who could understand what we’ve been through. It will take time but I think we could be happy.”
His words hit deep in your chest. It was too much. The wine, the feelings you hadn’t felt in too long. That look in his eyes just shouting at you that he needed love, he needed anything other than the hurt he had felt his whole life. The scariest part was how everything you saw in him you saw in yourself.
You stood up taking a shaky breath.
“I don’t know if I can be that for you.” You said, tears welling in your eyes. Without another word, you walked out. The cold air of the night felt good against your flushed skin. You tried to forget just how sad his honey-colored eyes looked as you walked out.
It had been days since that night and you felt bad. You wished that you could just accept things like he had but every time you thought about it you felt like you were giving in. You knew you had no other option but you still wanted to hold on to the one shred of freedom you had left and if you gave in what did you have left?
Hawks had texted you like normal since that day but you hadn’t replied. You didn’t have a good excuse, you just felt so overwhelmed.
“Pro hero Hawks was hospitalized today after a fight with a villain. The winged hero came out as the winner but was injured badly-” The voice of the reporter filled your ears and you looked up at the screen watching scenes from the fight play out. You flinched as you watched him take a particularly hard hit.
Without thinking you stood up and left, rushing to the hospital that he was in. Thankfully with your status as a hero, it was easy to get in to see other heroes at the hospital. Your heart pounded in your chest, it was complicated between the two of but it didn’t mean you weren’t concerned. In fact, you were surprised at just how scared you were. You couldn’t push away the sick feeling in your stomach.
Opening the door you peeked through to see him laying in the bed, he had bandages around his head and some that went under his hospital gown. He was asleep. You turned to find the nurse that was taking care of him.
“He’s pretty banged up but he’ll make a full recovery.” She said with a warm smile. “We can release him tomorrow if he has someone to stay with him, he needs bed rest and help with his bandages. Do you know if someone can do that for him?”
“I can take care of him.” You said without hesitation, your eagerness surprised even you.
With the knowledge that he wasn’t on his deathbed, you could relax. You stepped in quietly, pulling a chair up to his bedside. Watching the rise and fall of his chest was surprisingly relaxing. It took you a moment to realize that his wings were gone. Your heart rate spiked again as you panicked.
Had he lost his wings? Why would the nurse have not mentioned it? You stood up, placing your hand on his shoulders trying to lean him up to see what had happened.
“Hello to you too.” Hawk's voice startled you and you jumped back. “I have to say that’s a unique way to wake up. One minute I’m passing out after a fight and the next I have you tossing me around.”
“I was not tossing you!” You defended. Only Hawks could wake up after a fight and not hesitate to start teasing you. “I was just checking something.”
“Oh really?” He said. “I don’t have tail feathers if that’s what you were looking for.”
“I was not.” You said folding your arms. “I just didn’t see your wings, I-”
“My wings?” He laughed. “I should have known you only wanted to marry me for my quirk.”
There was a playful look in his eyes but there was a sad truth to the words. You appreciated his humor, trying to make the best of your situation.
“I’m just teasing.” He said before sitting up slowly. He grunted in pain and you reached out to steady him. You watched as his wings, well a smaller version of them spread out. It was kind of cute. “Once my feathers get destroyed it takes a few days for them to grow back. Just give them some time.”
“Oh. I didn’t know.” You said relaxing. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
“Me too.” He said with a smirk as he laid back.
“The nurse said you could go home tomorrow.” You explained. He quirked an eyebrow. “I’ll be here to take you home tomorrow when they release you.”
Hawks raised both his eyebrows in surprise but didn’t articulate it.
“Okay.” He said.
“Did you want me to get you food?” You asked. “I know hospital food is the worst part. Well, maybe not to the worst part of being here but it’s pretty bad.”
“You don’t have to.” He said. You thought he would take your offer up right away.
“Let me rephrase that, what do you want? I’m getting you food regardless.”
“Oh.” He paused for a moment. “Um, I like chicken.”
“Alright, I’ll be right back then.” You said with a nod. “Hold tight.”
You convinced yourself it was the guilt you felt for ignoring him the past few days driving you to dote on him but you knew that was a lie. There was something about seeing him hurt, that period of time where you didn’t know just how bad he was hurt or if he would make it. It made your stomach flip. You didn’t like it. It made you want to take care of him, it was an unfamiliar feeling.
On your way back from getting the food you stopped to get flowers, you weren’t sure if he liked them but you figured the gesture was nice enough. You spotted a small round bird plushie, you could resist getting it. There was something about it that reminded you of Hawks.
When you got back to his room he was now sitting up with the beds help watching TV. News reports showed his fight, replaying footage of it. You watched him as he carefully watched the screen.
“That was a pretty tough fight.” You said setting the food down on the table before rolling it in front of him. You grabbed his food out for him. “Makes me glad I’m a rescue hero, I don’t fight villains very often.”
“It can be rough sometimes but nothing beats the feeling after you’ve won.” He said looking at you.
“Even when you pass out right after?” You teased.
“Yeah, even then.” He said with a small laugh. He watched as you placed the flowers at his bedside. “Those are really nice, thank you.”
“Can’t compare to all the ones they’ve gotten from the fans. But you bought me flowers so I thought it was my turn.” You said. “Oh, and I got you this. I’m sure you aren’t a fan of plushies but I couldn’t resist. Looks just like you.”
You handed him the round red bird and he took it with a smirk on his face. He held it up inspecting it.
“Is this what you think of me?” He asked facing it towards you.
“Yeah, the resemblance is uncanny.” You said with a straight face. Hawks laughed, not just a chuckle or a dry laugh, he gave you a genuine laugh. The way his eyes lit up made your heart skip a beat. How could he look so handsome with all those bandages on and in a hospital gown? It wasn’t fair.
Hawks let out a grunt of pain from his excessive laughter.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He said after he calmed down.
Sitting down the two of you ate watching the news report on various things. You would talk here and there about different things. It was odd how things felt so different just in the span of a few days.
The next day you went to the hospital to pick up Hawks taking him back to his apartment. While it was probably nice for him to be out of there and at home the downside was the pain medication they gave him was weaker leaving him in more pain than before. He tried his best to put on that charming smile of his and play it off but you knew he was suffering.
When you got him home you helped him into his bed, setting him up with whatever he needed at his side. You tidied up around his house even though it was pretty clean. You wondered if he had a house cleaner or maybe it was just because he wasn’t home very often. Maybe he put those feathers to work.
Around the late afternoon, you started working on dinner, chicken soup. You knew that he wasn’t sick per se but it was still a healthy dish that would help him recover. You ate with him in his room, cleaning up after dinner.
Once you were done with that you figured his bandages would need changing. You had all the supplies you needed to do so and you were familiar enough with first aid. Your nerves were still through the roof. You knocked on his door before entering.
“I figured you’d want to change them before bed.” You said holding up the roll of gauze you had in your hand.
“That would be nice.” He said sitting up from his position leaning against the pillows with a wince. He turned off the TV leaving the room in silence. A part of you wished he would have left it on so you could distract yourself with something.
You watched as he tried to pull his shirt off, you looked away but glanced back when you heard a grunt of pain.
“Here,” You said grabbing his white shirt from the bottom and pulling it over his head. It took everything in you to keep warmth from blossoming in your cheeks.
It sounded like a simple task, trying to stay professional as you took his bandages off revealing his lean, toned body but in reality, it was a lot harder than anticipated. You did everything you could to keep yourself from looking flustered, you just knew that he would tease you endlessly if he caught on.
Placing the bloodied bandages aside you grabbed the fresh ones. You carefully examined his wounds, making sure that they looked like they were healing right. The gash in his side was deep but looked like it was beginning to heal, the skin that spanned his torso was different shades of purple and black. You winced just looking at it. It made you sad, it had to be hurting him even while he wasn’t moving yet with the way he smiled and teased you it didn’t seem like he was injured this badly.
Gently, you wrapped the gauze around his torso turning your head when you had to get to close to him. You could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move carefully. It made you nervous, you tried not to mess up what you were doing.
Once you finished with that you moved to the gash across his forehead at his hairline. His golden locks had fallen forward and in front of the wound. Soft as you could manage, you brushed the back of your hand across his skin moving the hair out of the way. You noticed how his eyes closed as you did this. For this wound you fished a gauze pad out of your first aid kit, taping it onto his forehead so he wouldn’t have to have the bandages around his head.
“Anything else I can do for you?” You asked. “Do you want me to help you brush your teeth or anything before bed?”
Hawks eyes fluttered open, you tried not to get pulled into them. A soft smile spread across his lips.
“I can manage that.” He said. “Thank you.”
It took everything in you to not run your hands through his hair as you looked down at him.
“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” He questioned.
“I was going to spend the night on the couch if you don’t mind.” You explained gesturing towards his living room.
“Oh.” He said looking taken aback. “Yeah, that’s fine. You know you don’t have to.
“It’s okay, I took the time off to help you. I just thought I’d stay over in case you need anything at night.” You explained. A moment of silence passed and you nodded before turning to head to the living room to get ready for bed.
Hawks grabbed your wrist before you could get too far away.
“You can sleep in my bed. The couch isn’t comfortable. To be honest I barely even sit on it, I’m not home that much.” He laughed. “My beds really big, you can pretend I’m not even here.” He said looking over. He wasn’t wrong the bed was giant, far more than a single person needed but you supposed he didn’t put a lot of thought into his furniture.
The thought of sharing a bed with Hawks made your heart beat fast. You knew that he wasn’t being a creep, you trusted him. You didn’t realize you trusted him until this moment. You supposed that was something. You knew he was being nice by offering for you to sleep in the bed but you couldn’t help but wonder if he had any other motive.
You nodded, leaving to get ready for bed. You changed into something more comfortable before doing your nightly routine and making sure everything was put away and turned off before returning to his room.
The TV was still off and Hawks now laid down with his head on the pillow. He looked stiff, you supposed there weren’t many options when you were injured that much. His small wings splayed under him, looking a little more filled out today than they had been yesterday.
You turned off the main light leaving the bedside lamp as the only source before climbing into bed. You laid down at the edge, you felt so awkward. It wasn’t your bed and you were laying next to Hawks, even if there was a good amount of space between the two of you.
“Thank you.” He said, his gaze remaining on the ceiling. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to.” You said, glancing over at him. His expression looked off, gone was the charming hero replaced by someone more vulnerable. A few moments of silence passed and for a moment you wondered if he had fallen asleep quickly.
“Usually when I get hurt this bad I just end up staying in the hospital.” He said in a small voice. “I’ve never had someone take care of me.”
The hint of shakiness in his voice as he told you that nearly broke your heart. In one moment Hawks went from being the number two hero that everyone knew and loved to a small boy who just needed to be taken care of. You looked over at him turning on your side.
“Well, you’ll always have someone to take care of you now.” You said. In one way it was a joke mirroring the ones he had made about your arranged marriage but a part of you meant that genuinely. In one moment Hawks had broken down the walls you had built to hold onto the last shred of your freedom. The weird part was you felt freer now than you had before.
After the time you spent taking care of Hawks you couldn’t deny that you started to feel something for him. It was subtle at first. It began with you replying to his texts and not just passively. Then you found yourself excited for said texts and whenever you got to see him. Then you started texting him first and making plans to spend time with him
Every once and a while you would feel bad, feel like being interested in him was giving up your freedom. Did you really want to deprive yourself of the one happiness you would be allowed in your circumstance?
One night you were returning home from work, you were exhausted it had been a long day and all you wanted to do was collapse on your bed. You smiled as you replied to a text from Hawks watching into your bedroom.
You heard something from the corner of your room, as you turned to it you saw a dark figure approaching you before everything went dark.
Hawks didn’t consider himself a needy person. He had been alone so long he didn’t even know what it was like to have someone care about him other than for their own personal use of him. Then you came into his life, albeit not willingly but you were both on the same page with that. Ever since his injury the two of you had become so close. He enjoyed it a lot more than he would like to admit.
Hawks wasn’t the type of person to overreact when someone didn’t text him back but it seemed you were the exception to that. You had been in the middle of texting him about your day when you stopped.
He paced the house for an hour before he gave into his concerns. It wouldn’t hurt to fly over to your place, it wasn’t fair. He could drop in on your balcony and just make sure everything was alright.
Your apartment was dark, the blinds nearly closed. You wouldn’t have fallen asleep, you had just gotten home. He was sure you didn’t even have time to sit down much less doze off. He peered through the space in the blinds.
Red filled his vision when he spotted you tied to a chair, a man standing over you. Before he could think better of it he smashed through the glass doors with his wings and pinned the man to the ground in one fell swoop.
The feather he had against the man's neck dug into his skin, a trail of red starting. He had never felt more enraged in his life. How could someone touch his girl? How could someone even think of hurting her? He pressed the feather down and the man let out a yelp of pain.
Then he heard a whimper escape you. He let up on his pressure turning to look at you. Sitting there a rag tied around your mouth, tears running down your face. He had never seen you look so upset. It tore his heart apart. Suddenly he didn’t care about the man on the ground. He shot his smaller red feathers into the edges of his clothes pinning him down with no escape before standing up and moving to your side.
Hawks kneeled at your feet, his feathers moving to cut the ropes that kept you on the chair. His hands moved to your face holding you gently between his hands.
“Are you okay, little bird?” He asked, his voice frantic. He hadn’t even noticed he let the nickname slip.
“I-I’m okay.” You said, your hands moving to hold onto his biceps. He could feel the way you were trembling. “You came for me.”
“Of course I did, I’ll always be here for you.” He said. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”
Hawks glanced back at the man on the floor. He pulled his phone out calling for someone to pick him up and take him away. Once he did he turned his attention back to you.
“I’m going to pick you up now and I’m going to take you to my place. Is that okay?” He asked. You nodded and he didn’t hesitate to pick you up in his arms.
Flying with Hawks was something you had imagines but nothing compared to actually doing it. The wing through your hair, the city lights passing you by. His speed and elegance was incredible. Even with the scare, you had tonight you could appreciate it. It felt like a dream.
The way your cheek rested against his shoulder, brushing against the fur of his coat. The way you fit in his arms like you were made to, it was nice being held by him.
As his feet hit the ground of his balcony lightly you came back from that dream. The fear that you experienced tonight still in your veins. He placed you on his couch, it really was uncomfortable, before standing in front of you. You hadn’t even realized that he grabbed a bag of stuff from your apartment till he sat it down next to you.
“Are you hungry or thirsty? Do you need anything? What do you need?” He said. It was funny seeing him so unsure of what to do.
“I’m just tired, I want to take a shower and sleep.” You told him. He nodded.
“Are you hurt?” He asked looking you over.
Your head throbbed from the man knocking you out and your wrists were sore from where he tied you down. Other than that you were okay.
“I could use some pain killers for a headache but I’m fine.” You told him.
Hawks quickly retrieved you some medicine and a glass of water. You took it thankfully before you went to take a shower. It was amazing how a shower could make things feel so much better. In your favorite pajamas feeling clean and refreshed it was easy to forget what had happened.
That was until you were finishing getting ready to go to bed. You climbed into bed, feeling less awkward than your last stay but still keeping to your side of the bed.
It was all too easy to hear the man’s voice in your head as you started up at the ceiling. Blaming you for not saving his family in the recent incident in the city. You had tried so hard to get everyone to safety but you couldn’t always save everyone. You knew you couldn’t save everyone but it didn’t keep you from blaming yourself. It didn’t help when you had the loved one of the people you lost screaming that at you.
Tears streamed down your face and silent sobs wracked your body. You didn’t even notice when the bed had moved under Hawk's weight. Not until he was leaning over you.
“Hey, hey.” He cooed at you, his hand gently and slowly reaching toward you to wipe away your tears. “Can I hold you?”
You barely had to nod before you were in his arms, he pulled you onto him as he laid down. He tucked you chin into his neck as he ran his hand down your back, keeping you close.
“You can tell me about it if you want to or I can just hold you until you feel better.” He whispered. “Just tell me what you need, anything.”
“His family died in the accident the other week.” You said. “I didn’t save everyone, I should have been able to. What kind of rescue hero loses peo-”
“Even if you did everything right, you’re going to lose people.” Hawks interrupted. “It’s not fair, not to them, not to their family, not to you, not to anyone. That man was grieving and he took it out on the wrong person. You’re an amazing hero and I won’t ever let you forget that, not even if I have to say it a million times.”
“Thank you, Hawks.” You said, your sobs quieting.
“Keigo. Call me Keigo.” He said. You leaned up looking at him, his golden eyes rested so softly on you. “They took my name away when they gave me the name Hawks. They told me to forget it. But I want you to know, to use it. You have a piece of me that I never thought anyone would have, hell I didn’t even know it existed until you came along. You shouldn’t have to call me what everyone else does.”
Blinking up at him you processed everything he just said to you. You wondered if it was even possible to process everything he just said to you. The weirdest part was you felt the same. Hawks- no, Keigo had a piece of you that no one else had. He made you feel things you had never felt before.
“Thank you, Keigo.” You said, pressing your face back into the crook of his neck. Holding him close you felt safe. Like nothing could ever hurt you. The way his strong arms wrapped around you, one hand’s movements soothing you. The way his wings wrapped around the both of you, shielding you from anything bad that could ever happen to you.
After that Keigo insisted you move in. It made sense considering your future plans. If you could call them plans. You could tell Keigo would be at ease knowing you were safe, he even offered to turn the extra room into your own bedroom. You wouldn’t even pretend to be against the idea. The thought of sharing a homemade you feel safe. And as much as you hated to admit it you didn’t mind sharing a room with him, not after you had the best sleep you could recall in years in his arms.
Living with Keigo was nice, at least when he was home. Work kept him busier than you which left you alone time which you appreciated. You started cooking for him, the look on his face when he got home and smelled dinner was priceless. You had never seen someone enjoy your food more. The way he would compliment it on and on made you laugh.
You were happier than you had ever been and your life had never felt more normal. But it wasn’t and as much as you enjoyed things with Keigo you couldn’t forget the shadow looming over you. Even if you cared for him, even if you were okay with marrying him it didn’t take away the fact that the commission wanted you to have children so they could take them away.
You weren’t even sure if you wanted kids but you knew if you did have them you didn’t want them being taken away from you and condemned to the same fate as you.
Keigo was keeping something from you and you didn’t want to push him but you did want to know.
It was dark in your bedroom, Keigo’s room. The sound of quiet cries had woken you up. Looking over you saw Keigo twitching in his sleep. You leaned over him, softly touching his shoulder trying to rouse him from his nightmare.
He sat up with a gasp, scaring you as you pulled back. His wings spread out and puffed up as he looked around his gaze settling on you.
“You’re okay.” He breathed out pulling you into his arms. He shoved his head into the crook of your shoulder, breathing in your scent. “Oh my god, you’re okay.”
“Keigo, I’m right here. It was just a bad dream.” You told him, running your hands through his hair trying to calm him down. “What happened?”
“They took you, they hurt you.” His words came out rushed. “You were- I think you were dead.” His hands gripped into the back of your shirt.
“I’m right here, I’m alive.” You told him, holding him tighter. “Who took me? That guy?”
Maybe he was having a nightmare about the man who had tied you up in your apartment.
“I need to tell you something.” He said quietly leaning back so he could look you in the eyes. “I don’t want you to look at me differently but I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Kei, I won’t look at you differently. I couldn’t.” You said holding his cheek in your palm.
“I’m a double agent, the hero commission wanted me to spy on the league of villains.” He said. “I’ve done horrible things, I- I’ve killed people.”
Keigo looked heartbroken, his eyes tearing up. He looked at you as if you were going to leave. It made sense, the small things you had noticed but were never enough for you to bring up. It all fit into what he told you. It didn’t shock you that the commission would force him into that.
“It’s not your fault, you didn’t have a choice.” You told him. He looked at you in disbelief.
“It doesn’t change what I did.” He said.
“I’m not going to leave, I don’t hate you.” You told him.
Tugging him closer you held him close, wishing that you could make him feel better. You would give anything to take his pain away. Once he calmed down more the both of you started talking about your childhood being raised by the commission. There were a lot of similarities but Keigo had been put through more, turned into a weapon.
Sitting so close to him you were practically on his lap. Your faces were so close, you couldn’t stop looking at his lips. Your gaze would flicker down before returning to his golden eyes. You could feel the pull between the two of you, all those feelings that ran between you swelling up.
“Please just kiss me already.” He whispered and you gave a soft nod. Keigo grabbed the sides of your face pulling you in for a passionate kiss. It was amazing, as you grew closer and closer to him you had imagined kissing him before but this was far better than those daydreams.
Pulling back both of you were breathless, staring at each other with dumb smiles on your faces.
“Kiss me again.” You said before he pulled you back again, his hands moving to your waist.
“I know we didn’t choose each other but there isn’t anyone else who could compare to you, if I could pick anyone in the world to be here with me I would pick you every time. I feel things I’ve never felt before with you. I- I love you.” He said, his thumb brushing your cheek.
“I love you too Keigo, you’re perfect for me.” You said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Keigo went in for another kiss before pulling you to lay down with him on the bed.
“We should run away.” You said as you laid there wrapped in his arms. “Run away where the commission can’t reach us and never look back.”
“Do you think we could manage it? What if they found us?” He said. “We couldn’t be heroes anymore.”
“Haven’t we done enough? How much are we helping by supporting the commission?”
There was a silence as Keigo thought about it.
“I don’t know.” He said, rubbing your back. “Let’s think about it more.”
Weeks passed and it was nice feeling like a real couple with Keigo after you had admitted your feelings for each other. But it didn’t change the fact that the commission still weighed on you. What they had done to you, what they had done to Keigo angered you more than ever. Then they put him in more danger working with the league.
It wasn’t until one day Keigo came home. You knew when he walked in it had been a bad day. He was off. Sitting down next to you he was silent. You looked over at him and he had a blank look on his face.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what you said.” He said quietly. “These wings and for what? I don’t have freedom. You’re right we should run away.”
“Really?” You questioned.
“Yes. I want to be with you by my own choice, I want to marry you because I love you not because we’re being forced. I want to start a family with you and raise our children with the love and childhood we didn’t get to have. I don’t want to be a pawn for them, a weapon. I want to be free.”
“Keigo Takami, will you run away and marry me?” You said taking his hands in yours.
“Nothing would make me happier.” He smiled so brightly it nearly stopped your heart. Happy tears welled in your eyes as you nearly tackled him with a hug.
The two of you traveled anywhere and everywhere you had always wanted to see, you ate all the food you wanted to try and saw everything the world had to offer. Walking along the old streets of Paris hand in hand with Keigo it felt like a dream. How had you come this far? You never thought you could be so free and happy.
Once you grew tired of traveling the two of you bought a house in your favorite place, you knew it was your favorite because you had been so many places at this point. It was secluded and far away from the commission.
Laying on a blanket in the grass of your backyard next to Keigo, you enjoyed the breeze and the sunlight that was just barely warm through the chilly air. Your head rested on his arm as the both of you watched fluffy white clouds float by.
Looking over you caught him staring at you. You smiled at him rolling closer to him leaning down. You brushed your lips against his, smiling against them.
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” You said, hand brushing through his hair.
“Nor would I.” He said before he flipped your positions and smothered you in kisses as you giggled under his attack.
Keigo was familiar with few freedoms in his life. Ever since he met you that all started to change. You should have been just another demonstration of how he lacked any choice but you ended up being the reason he was set free. And you were the reason he was happier than he had ever been in his whole life.
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sleepysnk · 3 years
Text
bye i love Niccolo, that is all.
Crashing Tides
Pairings: Niccolo x Fem!Reader
Warnings: none just fluff
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"Niccolo wait up!"
"You're just slow! These waves aren't gonna surf themselves!"
(Y/N) rolled her eyes as she grabbed her surfboard off the wall it leaned on. The day was perfect, bright sun, warm air, not a cloud in the sky, and best of all, huge waves.
She ran towards the crashing waves, she noticed Niccolo was already hitting them.
"Come on (Y/N)! These waves aren't just for me!" he called.
She shook her head before running out to the water, she lied on her belly, paddling into the salty water which made her swimsuit stick to her skin.
Her eyes averted to the wave which approached her in the distance, it was pretty tall, but nothing she couldn't handle.
Just as the wave was about to hit she lifted herself onto her board, standing up and riding against the wave. The water splashed onto her legs, she looked at Niccolo who was smiling at her. Her cheeks grew hot seeing his smile, he was always so adorable.
Her eye grew wide as another wave approached and Niccolo wasn't paying attention.
"Niccolo!"
He turned, his face growing with shock and the wave knocked him off his board. (Y/N) jumped off hers and rushed over to him, she watched his board slide onto the beach.
She walked through the water which was up to her waist. "Niccolo?!" she yelled, looking around for him.
He was laying there limp.
(Y/N)'s eyes widened as she swam over to his body, she shook his arm. "Niccolo?! Shit!" she lifted his head, trying to see if he hit a rock or something.
His eyes opened and he started laughing. "Your face was priceless!" he said before sitting up, his feet touching the floor.
She rolled her eyes, smacking his arm. "What's wrong with you?! You scared the shit out of me," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.
He chuckled, "It isn't the first time you've saved me."
Her cheeks grew hot, "Whatever! Come on.. I'm hungry," she said, walking towards the sandy edge of the beach.
He followed after her and slung his arm over her shoulder. "Your dad probably has something good, please tell me he made the shrimp."
She grabbed her board off the ground, wiping any sandy residue off of it. "He always has shrimp for you," she giggled.
Niccolo grabbed his own board and jogged behind her. "Say less! Mr.(L/N) coming in clutch," he said excitedly.
Her eyes wandered to his face. Niccolo looked so good right now. His blonde hair was wet from the water, a few droplets dripped at the end and a few strands stuck to his face. His tan skin glowed in the sunlight, the bracelets around his wrist were damp, and that shell necklace around his neck pressed into his skin.
He's totally a man now.
"Hello? You got a staring problem," he flicked her head, making her wince.
She hit his arm, "Stop! Sorry.." she mumbled.
He furrowed his brows, "You sure? (Y/N) you know I'm always here to help you.." he said, putting his hand on her shoulder.
Tingles came from his touch. "I'm fine.. don't worry Niccolo," she replied, smiling at him.
The two made their way to (Y/N)'s beach house, her dad worked as a surfboard maker. He also was a great chef, he cooked when the people around town wanted to have a cookout or bbq.
"Hey dad!" (Y/N) called.
Her dad emerged from the kitchen. "Oh hey! Glad your back, I needed to speak with you."
His eyes averted to Niccolo. "Hey Mr.(L/N)" he said, smiling at him.
"Niccolo! Good to see you, and please you don't gotta call me that. Your family," he replied, putting his hand onto his shoulder.
(Y/N) sat at the table, her stomach growled. She had been out all day surfing that she forgot to eat, her dad always got on her case about it saying it wasn't healthy for her to just leave on an empty stomach. She never listened though.
"So what are you two looking for?" her dad asked, leaning against the counter.
"The usual! Your shrimp always hit the spot," Niccolo replied.
Her dad smiled, "Sounds good, I'll go and whip it up. You want any (Y/N)?" he asked.
"Yeah sure," she replied, swinging her feet a bit.
"You two can head upstairs, it may be awhile."
Niccolo and (Y/N) looked at each other before going up the stairs to her room. Her dad trusted Niccolo, he knew he would never do anything to his daughter.
Pictures hung on the walls of (Y/N) and her family, as well as pictures of her and Niccolo as children. It was crazy how much time has passed since then.
"I heard there's gonna be some sick waves in the next few days," Niccolo said, following her into her room.
She placed a towel down on her bed. "Really? That's lame, it should have happened before summer ended."
He chuckled a bit, "Right? But I mean, you're gonna be here anyway. We can always surf after school," he replied, shrugging.
She looked on her phone. "You're right."
He plopped down next to her, he grabbed the phone out of her hands. "Nah we aren't sitting on our phones, let's chat." he said, laughing a bit.
She rolled her eyes, "Fine! What do you wanna talk about?" she asked, nodding her head.
His cheeks grew pink, it made her brows furrow.
"W-Well.. since we're both really close, I was wondering if you-"
"Guys! Food is ready!"
She looked at Niccolo, "Keep going," she said, smiling a bit.
He shook his head, "Nah, let's go eat. It can wait," he replied, standing up and heading to her door.
She was puzzled but she didn't question it, but she did have one question.
Why was he blushing?
-
"I'll see you tomorrow."
Niccolo smiled, leaning against the doorframe. "For sure! Maybe you can beat me to the tide," he replied.
She rolled her eyes, "Yeah whatever! Get out loser"
He put his hand over his chest dramatically. "Loser? Nah that's definitely you, but I'll see you tomorrow!" he said, exiting the front door of her house.
She shut it and smiled to herself. He was such a dork.
"(Y/N)? A word please?" her father called from the kitchen.
She nodded, heading to the kitchen. "What's up?"
"Have a seat," he replied, pointing at the chair in front of her.
She plopped down in the chair, her head cocking to the side wanting to know what her dad wanted to speak about.
"Your mom called"
Her eyes grew wide, she hadn't seen her mom in about a year or two. (Y/N)'s parents were divorced, they separated when she was 13, and the custody battle was absolute hell. In the end, she sided with her father and her mother wasn't the happiest. But if her daughter was happy, so was she. They spoke from time to time, but whenever she called her dad, it wasn't good.
"And? What did she want?" she asked, picking at her nails.
He sighed, "Your mom wants you to come home for the school year."
What?
"Wait.. what? Dad no, I don't wanna go with her. I'm already signed up for school here! It wouldn't make sense.. and what about Niccolo? I have zero friends where she lives," she said, her voice sounding upset.
Her father looked down, "I know sweetheart.. but with the custody battle I can't really say no. It's been awhile since you've seen her, I think it'll do you both some good."
She felt frustrated, why the hell did this have to happen now? The new school year was starting soon and she knew absolutely nobody where her mom lived. Her mom lived in the suburbs, almost three hours away.
"When is she coming to get me?" she asked.
He leaned back in his seat. "She'll be coming a week before the school year begins to pack up everything. I told her to give you more time, especially with Niccolo and all." he replied.
Her cheeks grew warm, her dad must have known about the way she felt towards Niccolo. It was almost blatantly obvious she liked her childhood best friend.
"Will I ever be able to visit or come home here?" she asked.
"Of course! Once the summer begins you'll come home here. Your mom and I both agreed on that," he said, putting his hand onto hers.
She breathed air out of her nose, she wasn't sure what else to say. She wanted to stay so bad, but she knew running from her mom wasn't a good idea and her dad would be pissed. She could tell her dad didn't want to send her away, but what else could he do?
"I'm gonna head upstairs.. night," she said before standing up and leaving the kitchen.
Her mind swirled around with different thoughts and questions. Who was she gonna be friends with? Would she even make friends? Would her mom make her stay? What about Niccolo? What was she going to do without him?
The thoughts alone made her stomach churn, she only had a week until her mom would come by to get her.
A week.
Seven days to spend with Niccolo.
She wanted to make it count.
-
The next day (Y/N) awoke to the sound of her dad's drill. He was probably making another surfboard or fixing one. He was always up early fixing things for people, it always woke her up too.
She looked out the window, seeing that the sky was overcast. She noticed the waves were a bit higher today and it was noticeably more windy than the previous days. Maybe today would be a good day to hit some waves with Niccolo.
Niccolo, shit.
How the hell was she supposed to tell Niccolo she was leaving?
Sighing, she rolled out of bed and made her way downstairs. The sound of the drill got louder as she approached the kitchen, her dad was outside in the backyard cutting up wood.
Her phone suddenly pinged, causing her to reach for it.
A message from Niccolo displayed on the screen.
Niccolo: the waves are calling to us (Y/N), you better get out here rn 👀
She smiled, typing a reply.
(Y/N): on my way! let me go tell my dad and get changed first
Niccolo: ooo getting changed? pls put on the pink one today 😐 you promised plus it looks nice on you
Her cheeks heated up from the message, Niccolo always complimented her whenever he could. Whether it be her trying on outfits or swimsuits, he was always her #1 fan.
She rolled her eyes before opening the back door, the warm humid air rushing onto her skin.
"Is it cool if I go surfing with Niccolo?" she asked, nodding her head.
Her dad looked up, "Yeah sure! Be careful though, those waves are pretty big today. I heard we're getting a storm later on," he replied, wiping the sweat from his brow.
She nodded and stepped back inside, closing the door. She rushed up the stairs to throw on her swimsuit, she put on the pink one so Niccolo wouldn't be 'salty' about her not putting it on.
She finished up and rushed out the door to meet Niccolo at their usual spot. She grabbed her surfboard and made her way there, the wind was blowing around, it made the sticky air a little less bearable.
"Finally! I've been waiting forever!"
She smiled, seeing how dramatic he could act always made her grin. "Sorry! I was in a rush," she replied, looking up at him.
He slung his arm around her shoulder. "Nah don't worry sugar, I was just messing with ya" he said.
She giggled a bit, the nickname he gave her made her cheeks feel warm. Something Niccolo was always able to make her do.
"Wait did I offend you? Shit.. I'm sorry," he said, looking at her.
She blinked, "What? No! I'm fine don't worry Niccolo," she laughed.
His blonde hair blew over his eyes, "You just seem out of the ordinary, that's all."
"No I'm fine.. don't worry about it," she said. "Come on! Let's go hit these waves, shall we?"
He grabbed his surfboard and jogged after her, she noticed the red flag blowing in the wind. It meant that people should stay out of the water, but Niccolo and (Y/N) never paid much attention. Nobody was there to stop them.
Stepping into the water, goosebumps formed onto her skin. It felt cold around her ankles, she lied down on her board and began to paddle in the water.
"I'm gonna ride all these waves and you're not gonna know what hit you," Niccolo said, paddling next to her.
She rolled her eyes, "Yeah okay! Try me," she smirked.
"Oh you already know I will."
She felt flustered, her eyes averted forward at the wave approaching in the distance. It had to be at least eight feet tall. Nothing she couldn't handle of course.
Seeing the wave getting closer, she stood up, balancing her weight on the board. The water splashed around her legs, soaking her swimsuit and making her shiver a bit. She looked over at Niccolo who was riding along the tide.
Her mind began to wander to her going with her mom, disappointment ran through her as the thoughts invaded her head. It made her upset, frustrated, sad.
"(Y/N)! There's a big one coming!" Niccolo called, looking towards her.
She looked back seeing the giant wave approaching, it had to be bigger than the last one. At least twelve feet high.
"I got this!" she yelled, hopping off her board and lying down on the base.
Niccolo didn't like how big the wave was, she's never rode big waves before and he sure as hell knew it wasn't a good idea. He paddled back to the beach, watching her in the distance.
"(Y/N)! Get back! It's too big!" he yelled.
She ignored him, she wanted to go all out. She had to show Niccolo what she could do before she left.
Standing up as the wave came up to her, she felt her feet slip and she fell into the water.
"Shit!"
Niccolo ran into the water, the wave crashed into the beach almost knocking him back. He saw her surfboard floating in the water heading towards the shore, it made him worried not seeing her on it.
"(Y/N)!" he yelled.
No response.
He saw her struggling in the water, it was deeper once you got further from the shore. She couldn't exactly stand in the water beyond the halfway point.
He lifted her up, her arms going around his neck. "Shit! Are you okay?" he asked, looking at her.
She coughed, spitting out the water that was in her mouth. "Yeah.."
Niccolo made his way back to shore with her around him. His grip on her waist was tight.
"Why the hell did you do that? You could have drowned," he said, placing her onto the ground.
She looked down at the ground. "It's nothing.." she replied. "I'll just go back inside."
She turned to grab her board, when suddenly Niccolo's hand went around her arm.
"No seriously.. what the fuck is going on with you? Something is clearly bothering you and I'm not leaving until you tell me," he said.
She sighed, dropping her board onto the sand. Her gaze averted towards the ground. "Niccolo.. my mom is making me come live with her during the school year. She called my dad and I'm leaving next week," she replied.
His eyes softened, "What? For real? Why? I thought she was fine with you staying with him," he said.
She sighed, "I guess she wants me home for a bit, but he did say during the summer I'm coming back." she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
Her gaze veered to the darkening clouds in the distance, she could faintly see the lightning flashing and the wind picking up.
"Well.. I guess we're gonna have to make it worth it," Niccolo said, smiling.
She furrowed her brows, "What do you mean?"
He chuckled, "We're going to make the last few days you're here fun, okay? You're my best friend (Y/N)... you deserve a good time before you go," he said, brushing his hand along her arm.
She felt tingles along her skin. "Well, I guess you're right. Plus I don't want to spend it all lonely," she giggled.
"Exactly! Now let's go chill! It's gonna storm anyway," he replied, taking her hand into his.
-
The rest of the day was so much fun. (Y/N) and Niccolo did so many things together, from making cookies, to (Y/N) doing his hair, watching movies, they had a blast together.
It was now night, the wind howled outside from the storm. Rain pounded against the roof and windows, it was quite late and (Y/N) wasn't sure how she'd get home.
"It's really coming down out there," Niccolo said, looking out the window.
Lightning flashed across the sky, lighting up the shoreline. The waves crashed onto the shore.
"I need to get back somehow," she said, looking at her phone.
Niccolo looked back at her. "Are you sure you want to? (Y/N) it's really bad out there," he said with concern in his voice.
She wasn't sure how to respond, her dad was cool with Niccolo, but if she stayed overnight would he be pissed? Her dad never trusted any guy besides Niccolo around her.
She decided to send a text to her dad.
(Y/N): hey uh.. idk if i can get back, it's really shitty outside.
Within seconds the grey bubbles popped up.
Dad: No worries. Niccolo's mom knows you're there, you can spend the night. I rather not have you coming out in the middle of a storm. Stay safe. I love you. No funny business either.
She looked over at him. "Well look's like my dad is fine with me spending the night," she said, grinning at him.
Niccolo seemed surprised, but nonetheless he was excited. "Alright bet! You wanna head upstairs? We can chill and do whatever," he asked.
She nodded, "I'd love that."
She followed him up the stairs to his room, she remembered this room all too well. Her and Niccolo spent so many days and nights together in there, even now as a teenager she still felt that nostalgia from it.
"I don't have any clothes.." she muttered to herself.
Niccolo turned back, "Oh, here! Put this on," he said, searching through his drawers for a shirt and shorts for her to wear.
He tossed her a grey shirt and some black shorts. "Thanks.." she said, smiling at him.
He felt his stomach do flips at the sight of her smile. "Yeah no problem.. it's not like you've never borrowed my stuff before," he replied, running his fingers through his blonde hair.
She felt her cheeks growing hot again, curse this boy and what he does to her. Exiting the room, she found herself in his bathroom. She peeled off the swimsuit which was damp from the surfing they did together, she threw on his shirt and shorts and tossed the swimsuit near the edge of the bathtub to dry.
Niccolo laid on his bed, staring at the screen of his phone. His eyes veered to the door where (Y/N) stood, his eyes taking in the sight of her in his clothes. It was something he liked, she was always so cute to him.
"You wanna come lay down?" he asked, patting the side of his bed.
She smiled, "Of course!"
She climbed onto his bed, her head lying against the pillows. Niccolo's face dusted pink, they hadn't been this close in a bed since they were kids.
"So uh.. you ready to move?" he asked, trying to ease the nervousness.
She sighed, "Not really.. I don't know anyone where my mom lives," she replied.
He chuckled a bit, "I'm always going to be here for you, don't be afraid to send me a text during class. You already know I'll respond, especially if it's you."
Her heart swelled, "Please! I'll need it," she giggled.
He smiled, opening his arms for her. "I'll need plenty of hugs."
She giggled and leaned into his embrace, she felt his warmth surrounding her. It felt.. good. It wasn't weird for the two to be like this, she had spent many nights in his embrace when things got hard with her parents. Niccolo was always the one to comfort her and he had no issue with that, whenever she needed him, he was there.
Her eyes felt heavy and eventually the two dozed off into a deep sleep.
-
The next six days were absolutely enjoyable. (Y/N) and Niccolo spent every single day together, whether it be surfing or simply spending time at their houses, they made the last few days together memorable. They took many photos and polaroids together.
Here they sat by the shore, watching the moon rise in the distance. The sun was now gone behind the clouds, the sky was painted with dark hues of blue and black.
(Y/N) wore his sweater, they just finished surfing not too long ago. Her hair was slightly damp.
"Can't believe this is really it.." Niccolo said, looking towards her.
She lied her head onto his shoulder. "It isn't forever Niccolo.. we have facetime and texting," she said.
"I know.. it's just so hard to believe my best friend won't be here for nine months," he replied.
She sighed, "It is hard to believe but.. I'll be home soon."
Her eyes looked at the moon in the horizon, the tide slowly came towards the shoreline, making the sand wet. The atmosphere was relaxing, the air was salty and warm, the tide was calm, and the moon was out without a cloud in the sky. It lit up the ocean before her.
She couldn't help but reminisce. She spent her whole life here, she loved the beach. She spent her whole life with Niccolo, he was so important to her.
Niccolo was her first friend, they met when they were toddlers. (Y/N)'s family was very close to Niccolo's, they would have sleepovers, celebrate birthdays, make sandcastles, and swim until the sun set.
Most importantly, Niccolo was the one who taught her how to surf. She remembered all the times she would see him hitting the waves, and she wanted to be just like him. Even as a little kid she had a desire to show him that she could do it.
There were many fails and tears of frustration shed, but eventually she did it. Niccolo was so happy to see her ride her first wave, he felt so proud.
There was good moments, but there were also bad ones. When her parents would fight until all hours of the night she found herself running to Niccolo almost every night. She spent many nights crying into his shoulder, in which he would comfort her.
It felt so long ago.
When she turned fourteen, that's when she found her feelings towards Niccolo were more than just being best friends. It wouldn't be an overstatement to say she loved him, her feelings never fizzled out and she always found herself being pulled back into him.
He could never know though, she didn't want him to freak out.
A sudden ping brought her out of her thoughts. She grabbed her phone and noticed the text from her dad.
"Gotta go?" Niccolo asked, looking at her phone screen.
She sighed, "Yeah.. it's late anyway," she replied.
She stood up with Niccolo, she dusted off any sand that was on her shorts.
"Wait."
She looked at Niccolo, cocking her head to the side. "What's up?" she asked.
Even in the darkness she could see his face turning pink. "I-I.. I've wanted to tell you this for such a long time, with you leaving.. I figured it'd be a good time to tell you," he replied.
She blinked, "What is it?"
"(Y/N).. I-I.. really, really, like you. Like.. I can't even explain what you do to me, you're so beautiful and having you as my best friend has been an absolute blessing. I like you so fucking much," he said.
Her eyes grew wide, hearing his confession made her heart swell and her cheeks heat up.
"Niccolo.. I-"
"I get it if you don't feel the same," he said, holding her hand. "I just... I can't get over you."
She smiled, "No Niccolo, I like you too. I like you more than a best friend," she replied.
He seemed surprised, "What? No, you're lying! You don't at all-"
"Niccolo shut up"
That's when her lips pressed onto his, at first he didn't move, but then he began to kiss her back. His hands found their way to her waist, bringing her body against his own. She put her arms around his neck, tugging at the blonde strands of his hair.
The kiss they shared was passionate, it was full of love and emotion from the hidden feelings they've had for so long.
They stood there for awhile, just kissing each other and embracing their skin.
He broke the kiss, hearing her phone. "Shit.."
She looked at her phone seeing another text from her dad.
Dad: Where are you?? Come home please
She sighed, "I gotta get going," she said, looking up at Niccolo.
He cupped her cheek, "Let me walk you home, for the last time." he said.
She smiled, taking his hand and walking with him to her house. She felt her heart tug a bit, realizing this was going to be the last time he'll walk her home for a long time.
She stood in front of the door. "I guess I'll see you next summer," she said, looking up at him.
He smiled, "I guess so.. but, just know I'll be waiting for you, (Y/N). That will never change," he replied.
He kissed her lips one last time. "Goodnight"
"Goodnight"
-
The next nine months were difficult, but manageable for (Y/N). She was home sick for a long time, she had to get used to a new environment and she had to make some new friends in the process. It was hard, but she did manage. Niccolo kept her going, he assured her summer would arrive soon and it'll all be over.
He was right.
It was now the end of May, she graduated from high school and it was now summer break. She was excited to come home to her dad, they didn't have a lot of time to speak, but he was happy to have her back home.
Stepping into the house she hadn't seen since August, she was greeted with her dad.
"Welcome back!" he said, hugging her.
She smiled, "Hey dad.. uh, mom told me to say bye," she replied, looking around her home.
He nodded, "Alright.. well, I made some changes to the house. I don't have to work outside anymore," he said.
She shook her head, "Well that's good."
He looked at her, "Niccolo has been looking for you. He stopped by earlier, you should go see him. I'm sure you both are eager to see one another," he said.
She felt a smile grow onto her face. "I should go see him.. I'll be back soon!" she said, opening the door to her house.
"Be safe!" her dad called.
She smiled before exiting her house. She missed the warm salty air, it had been so long since she had seen the ocean. That's not the part she missed the most though, it was Niccolo who she wanted to see the most.
She made her way to the shore, she knew she would probably find him there.
Niccolo sat on the sand, he stared at the ocean before him. The waves crashed onto the shoreline near his feet, his mind wandering to (Y/N) and where she was. He missed her dearly, he just wanted to see her.
"The ocean is a really great sight, huh?"
He turned his head to see (Y/N) standing there. "(Y/N)!" he yelled, standing up and hugging her tightly.
She almost fell to the ground. "Hi baby," she said with excitement in her a voice. A smile on her features.
He kissed her, God did he miss her lips. "It's so good to see you again," he cupped her cheek. "We need to catch up."
She smiled, running her fingers through her hair. "We have all day handsome," she replied.
He lifted her off the ground, a yelp escaping her mouth. "You best have a fresh pair of clothes," he smirked.
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thelukesalvez · 4 years
Text
Luke Alvez x Reader: Premature
Request: ‘can i request an imagine where the reader is pregnant and luke’s away on a case when she goes into labor? and garcia has to call luke to get him home?’  
Tagged: @ssaic-jareau​ , @alvezstan​ , @saintd0lce​ , @ogmilkis​ , @reidswords​, @ssa-morgan​, @garcias-batcave​ ,  @akimagies​, @zhangyixingxing1​ , @pinkdiamond1016​
Word count: 4.5k
Warnings: none
A/N: idk why i always picture luke with a daughter??? but anyway another DAD luke fic like yes pls, enjoy!
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The worst part about being pregnant had to be the lower back aches.  Or maybe the way your swollen ankles prevented you from fitting into any of your cute shoes.  It could also be the tender breasts, the mood swings, or how food didn’t taste as good, yet somehow you were still always hungry.  Come to think of it, being pregnant, in general, was the worst. 
Currently, you were seven and a half months along.  You had 6 weeks until your daughter would be born.  6 weeks somehow felt both impossibly long and just around the corner.  On one hand, you really couldn’t wait to get your body back.  You missed wearing pants that didn’t have an elastic waistband, and the freedom of being able to get out of bed without Luke’s help.  
On the other hand, you and Luke were going to be first time parents.  This brought about a lot of anxiety and uncertainty.  There was still so much to get done before the baby arrived, that at times you couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed. 
“You worry too much,” Luke had told you one afternoon.  
But you disagreed.  “Luke, she’s gonna be here in less than two months and her room isn’t even close to being finished.  We still have to paint, and put together the crib-”
“We have six weeks, baby.  I’ll get it done, I promise.” 
His reassuring words did little to calm your mind or your nerves.  One thing that did keep the anxious thoughts at bay, was work.  Focusing your attention on BAU cases was the perfect distraction… until that was taken away from you too.  
“I don’t want you in the field,” Luke had stated that night.  
“You’re joking, right?”
Luke’s pressed lips and slightly flared nostril told you that no, he was not joking. 
“Luke,” you’d groaned, throwing your head back against the pillow.  “I’m fine.”
“You can barely walk, let alone chase after anyone,” he stated, his arms folding across his chest.  He always did that when he wanted you to take him seriously.  “And I know for a fact that you can’t fit into a bulletproof vest.”
You threw him your best glare.  “Okay, first off, that was mean.  Second, you can’t expect me to just sit here all day doing nothing.  I’ll go insane, you know I will.”
“Baby, you’re seven months pregnant.  You need to relax.”
“Relax?  Seriously, Luke?”  you felt a wave of frustration wash over you.  Lately you've been finding it so hard to control your emotions, so you’re not entirely surprised when you feel the burning of tears in your eyes. “I can’t relax! I’m uncomfortable all the time.  I’m fat and I’m hot and I’m sweaty. My boobs feel like they’re going to explode any second.  I’m nauseous and I’m tired and I’m hungry.  And if I stay home all day that’s all I’m going to think about.  I’m going to just sit and dwell on the fact that I am miserable.”
Luke’s face softens when he sees that you’re crying.  That wasn’t an uncommon occurrence lately, but he felt guilty for being the one to cause it this time around. 
“C’mere,” he says, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.  
And even though you’re angry with him, you don’t hesitate before scooting up the mattress and sliding into his arms.  You lay your head on his shoulder, Luke’s hand finding its way down to your lower back, where he rubs gentle circles into the sore muscles.  Being in his arms had a way of making you feel better. 
“I’m sorry you’re so uncomfortable, baby. I just- I worry about you. All I want is for you and the baby to be okay.”
You sniffle into his chest, his sweet words making your voice soften.  “I can’t sit here all day, Luke.  I really can’t.”
“I know.” He rests his cheek on top of your head and sighs.  “How about we meet in the middle?”
Looking up at him, you skeptically ask,  “How?”
“You could work the cases from the BAU,” he suggests. 
You scrunch your nose, secretly hoping that his compromise meant just giving in to what you wanted entirely.  But, as you think about it for a moment, you had to admit you didn’t completely hate the idea.  Things were getting challenging in the field.  And as much as you hated him for saying it, Luke was right- the bulletproof vests no longer fit you, and you couldn’t chase down any perps.  You were relatively useless, at least physically, at this point.  
“I’m sure Garcia would love an extra hand,” he adds. 
“Fine,” you mutter quietly. 
“Thank you,” he whispers, pressing a light peck against the top of your head.  
But, as Luke would soon find, just because you agreed to be stationed at the BAU did not mean you weren’t going to complain about it.   
The two of you walked, hand-in-hand, into the building the next morning.  Emily had called, about fifteen minutes prior, to let you both know that you had a case in Boston. 
“What if I just stay at the police precinct?”
Luke rolled his eyes.  “No.”
“Why not? I could help Reid with the geological profile- or interview the families.  There’s a lot I can do-”
“We already agreed that you’d stay here.”
You scoffed in frustration before trying another tactic. 
“You know,” you drawled, using the hand he wasn’t already holding to reach around and grip his arm.  “I’m worried about you, too.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes,” you state, matter-of-factly.  “Just because I’m carrying the baby doesn’t mean I’m the only one that needs to stay safe.  It would be equally devastating if something happened to you.  You let your hand trail down the length of his arm and over to your belly.  “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”  
Luke swiped his ID badge to get inside the building before holding the door open for you, you hesitate, waiting for his response.  Luke’s lips were parted into a soft grin. “I know you’re just trying to make me feel guilty, but that was really sweet.”  He leans forward and pecks your lips lightly.  
You roll your eyes and storm into the building.  
“So I hear we’re going to be lab partners!” Garcia drums her fingers against the round table.  
You shrug, “Looks like it.”
“I know you’re bummed to not be in the field, but I’m so excited that you’ll be here.”
Luke’s hand reaches for yours underneath the table.  You let your fingers lace together with his before you smile back at Garcia.  Maybe being sidelined wouldn’t be all bad.  “I’m excited too, Pen,” you tell her.  
“Alright guys listen up,” Emily enters the briefing room.  “Police need our help in Boston.  Two college students have gone missing the past month, and one of the bodies was just found dumped off of I-95.  Y/N will be working the case from here, so we’ll be down a body in the field.”
Garcia hits a few buttons on the remote, making a gruesome image project onto the screen in front of the team.  She presents a few more details about the case before Emily declares, “Wheels up in 20.”
Luke’s shifting through his go bag at his desk when you approach him from behind.  You rest your hand on his back and rub up and down his soft, maroon shirt.  
“Be safe, okay?” you tell him.  You felt guilty knowing he was going into the field without you.  
Luke sighs, turning his body so that he was facing you.  His big hands rest on your hips as he holds you out in front of him.  “You know I will.”
You nod, and you believed his words, but that didn’t mean you’d be any less worried about him while he was away.  
Luke could sense the uneasiness on your face, so he leaned in and kissed your cheek lightly before whispering,  “There is nothing that could ever keep me from coming back home to you and our baby, do you hear me?” 
Leaning into his touch, you sigh.  “Good.  Because I meant what I said; I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“We’re going to miss you out there, kid.” Rossi states as he passes your desk.  
“Keep me updated,” you respond sadly.  He pats you on the shoulder before nodding with a smile.  
With a final kiss and promises to call, Luke and the rest of the team load onto the jet to head for Boston. 
At first, you stay in the bullpen seated at your desk, running through the casefile.  You were the only one in the entire room.  By habit, you kept looking up at Luke’s desk.  Instead of his warm smile, you’re met by his empty chair.  Your eyes linger for a moment before you feel a sharp pain shoot across your stomach, making you wince.  
“Woah,” you whisper, your hand falling on your bump.  “Was that a kick?” you ask her out loud.
It didn’t take long before the silence became deafening, so after a few minutes, you stand up and waddle down the hallway to Garcia’s leir.  You knock at her door before entering. 
“Hey,” you say, your hand supporting your sore back.  “It’s like, creepy quiet out there, do you mind if I work with you, in here?”
Her face lights up.  “Of course!” Immediately, she begins clearing off a space on her desk for you to set up. 
“Thanks,” you smile, taking a seat in her spare office chair.  You try your best to sit up straight as your insides begin to cramp.  Garica turns to see your eyes squeezed shut. 
“What’s wrong?” her voice is filled with concern. 
“Nothing,” you sigh in relief when the cramp passes. “She’s kicking a lot today.”
Garcia’s face breaks out into a large grin.  “Oh! My Goddaughter’s gonna be a spunky one, isn’t she?”
As it turned out, there wasn’t much for you to do from the BAU.  Garcia worked tirelessly, delving into files and uncovering helpful information for the team.  But you weren’t even close to being as tech savvy as her, and besides the casefile you’d already read through four times, you didn’t have many resources to work off of.  
Whenever the team would call with questions, you’d listen intently, and try to figure out some way that you could help them.  But, by that evening, you were starting to feel pretty useless.  
“Why don’t you just head home?” Garcia suggested kindly.  “You look tired.”
You were tired.  You were tired and hungry and sore from all your baby’s kicking.  But you shook your head.  “I don’t want to be in the house alone,” you admit to her.  “It’s too quiet there without Luke.”
Garcia, of course, understands.  “Do you want to take a walk?  Just around the building?”
At first, you want to say no.  But as you consider her offer, you can’t help but admit that stretching your legs sounded pretty nice, so you agree. 
“I think I’m most excited for coffee,” you tell Garcia.  The two of you had walked the entire floor of the BAU a couple of times now and were about to head back to her office.  
“God, I can’t even imagine going nine months without coffee.  I think that would break me,” she admits.  
You start to laugh, but you’re quickly interrupted by a sudden, sharp pain in your abdomen.  
“Woah,” you gasp, grabbing your stomach.  You hunch over, desperate to alleviate some of the pain, but it only grows with intensity.  It takes your breath away for a moment, and all you can do is focus on the tiled floor beneath you as you attempt to muscle through it.  
But then you feel something burst inside of you, followed by a warm liquid rushing down your leg.
With wide, terrified eyes, you look up to Garcia. 
“Pen,” you whisper, barely recognizing your own voice.  “I th-think my water just broke...”
“Oh my god,” she says, her voice higher than usual. “Oh my god, okay, okay. You’re okay.” 
She hurries to your side and wraps an arm around your waist.  You and your shaky legs are grateful for her support.  She guides you to a chair stationed in the hallway, where she helps you sit.  
The panic really starts to set in once your eyes land on your dampened pants.  
“No,” you start to shake your head rapidly.  “Pen, no I can’t- it’s too early-”
You’re amazed by how calm Garcia remains.  “It’s okay,” she tells you.  “We’re gonna get you to the hospital and everything’s gonna be fine.”
But you keep shaking your head.  “No, she’s early.  She’s too early- I need Luke, please- I can’t do this.”
“I’m gonna call Luke right now, everything’s going to be okay.”
Garcia pulls out her phone and dials your husband. She frowns when it goes to voicemail after a few rings.  
By now, there’s a steady influx of tears spilling down your cheeks. You ask softly, “Why isn’t he answering?” 
“Let me try Emily.”
You sigh a breath of relief when you hear Emily’s voice on the other end of the line.  
“Emily-” Garcia gasps. “Where’s Luke?”
You overhear her, “He’s interrogating the Unsub- why? What’s the matter?”
“Y/N’s in labor, we need him.”
“Oh my god,” Emily says.  There’s a brief pause before she tells Garcia,  “I’ll be right back.”
“Pen-” you groan, another contraction washing over you.  You hunch over in the chair and grab at the air, desperate for something to clamp down on.  
She quickly extends her hand, letting you squeeze it tightly. 
“Garcia?” you hear Luke’s sweet voice over the line.  You want to call out for him, but you can’t form the words.  
“Luke!” she exclaims, her concerned eyes never leaving you.  “Luke, Y/N’s in labor- her water just broke. You have to come home.”
You gasp and bite down on your lip as the pain suddenly intensifies.
“Breathe,” she instructs you calmly.  “Just breathe with me-”
“What?” you can hear the disbelief in his voice.  “But- she’s only seven months pregnant- that's too early-” 
The contraction passes, leaving you breathless, but you hold your hand out.  Garcia picks up on your gesture and hands you the phone. 
“Luke-” you’re on the verge of bursting into terrified tears.  “I’m so scared.”
“Baby, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay.” You can hear the worry in his voice as he soothes you.  “I’m on my way, okay? I’m gonna take the jet, I’ll be there soon.”
“I don’t know if I can do this-”
“No, baby- of course you can, you’re so strong.  You’re gonna be okay.”
“Please hurry,” you whimper.  
“I will, I love you.”
You pass the phone to Garcia reluctantly.  You wished you could stay on the line with him.  Something about hearing his voice made you feel calmer. 
You’re shaky and weak, but Garcia helps you all the way into the elevator and down into the parking garage.  You hesitate before climbing into the front seat of her car. 
“What’s wrong?” she asks, her hand gently placed on your elbow. 
“I don’t want to get your seat all gross-”
You’re referring to the amniotic sac fluid currently soaking your pants.
“Are you serious?” she asks in disbelief.  “If we don’t hurry you’re going to be giving birth in my car, so I think I’ll take my chances with the water.”
You nod quickly and climb into the front seat.  While Garcia hurries around to the front, you clutch onto your baby bump tightly, wondering why the hell she was coming so early. 
Garcia winds through traffic hurriedly, every so often she glances in your direction, trying to make sure you’re okay.  “I guess they weren’t kicks,” you groan, as another contraction washes over you.  You grip the door handle until your knuckles turn white and squeeze your eyes shut.  
“Keep breathing,” Garcia soothes.  She lets you take her hand across the console and doesn’t even wince when you squish it tightly in yours.  
“I’m really scared, Penelope,” you whimper quietly, falling back against the seat when the contraction passes.  
“I know,” Garcia clicks her tongue empathetically.  
“Nothing’s ready.  Not her room- we haven’t even set up her crib yet  I’m not ready. I was supposed to have another 6 weeks to get ready-”
But Penelope is shaking her head. “You, right now, as you are, are going to be a great mother, okay? You’re ready.”
She sounded so sure, so confident in you- maybe she was right.  
“Where is he?” 
You’re sweating, exposed in a delivery room, and in more pain than you ever have been in your entire life.  
Garcia’s stayed by your side the entire time, holding your hand and talking you through the pain.  You’d been at the hospital about two hours now.  
Currently, Garcia was dabbing your forehead with a wet washcloth.  Your contractions were about 6 minutes apart.  According to the doctor, you’d have to start pushing soon.    
“I can’t do this without him. He should be here..”
“He’ll be here.”
You look up at her, exhausted and with fear in your eyes. 
Garcia squeezes your shoulder.  “And if he’s not here, then we’ll do this together, okay? You and me.”
“Promise you won’t leave?”
She nods.  “I promise.”
Luke’s sprinting through the maze of a hospital trying desperately to find the delivery room number that Garcia texted him.  He’s already been redirected by a couple of nurses, but every floor looked the same. 
The door number came into sight when he turned the corner.  He doesn’t hesitate before running the final distance between the two of you. 
Luke swings the door open, only able to exhale when his eyes finally land on you.  
You’re sitting up in your bed, hair tied up messily and cheeks flushed.  
As soon as you see him, he sees your shoulder slump, like you’ve exhaled a breath of relief.
“Luke-” 
His name is barely audible, but it’s enough.  
“I’m here, baby,” he assures you, crossing the room in just two, large strides. 
Garcia’s on the opposite side of your bed, clutching your hand tightly.  After pressing his lips against your sweaty forehead, he looks at her and mouths, ‘thank you’.  
She nods, “Of course, it was nothing.”  She says it casually, like she didn’t just spend the last three hours comforting you through labor, doing his job for him, making sure you were safe.  
It was everything. 
Minutes after Luke arrives, the doctor tells you it’s time to push.  
You flash Luke a scared glance, but he wraps an arm around your shoulder and kissed your temple, his lips feel comforting.  “You can do this.” 
You sigh, because like you said, being in his arms had a way of making you feel better.  
...
When her soft cries fill the air, you’re finally able to breathe again.  You collapse back against your pillow, exhausted and sweaty.  
Luke’s still cupping your hand in his, his much larger fingers wrapping themselves around your skin.  He’s looking towards the doctor, who’s holding in his arms, your baby girl. 
“Is she okay?” you ask weakly.  
Luke nods.  “She’s small, but she’s so beautiful.” 
Because she’s premature, you’re not able to hold her right away.  Instead, she’s bundled up and taken to the NICU.  
“No-” you protest pathetically.  “I want her with me-”
“I know,” Luke whispers.  “But they gotta keep her warm.  They’re gonna put her in an isolette.  They said we can visit as soon as you’re ready.”
Without hesitating, you attempt to sit up in bed. “I’m ready,” you declare weakly.  
Luke’s hand pushes against your shoulder lightly in protest.  “No, baby. You need rest-”
You found yourself growing angrier and angrier.  You wanted to see your baby- wanted to hold her.  But your body betrays you.  You’re just so exhausted that you can’t even fight against him.  Instead, you fall back against the pillow and huff out a choppy, frustrated sob.
“I know,” he says.  He sits on the edge of your bed and reaches his hand out to brush some of the loose strands of hair away from your face.  He leans forward and presses his lips to your sweaty forehead. “You did so good.” He whispers against your skin.  “So, so good.”
You close your eyes against his touch, letting it wash over you. 
“How small is she?” you ask when he finally breaks away. 
Luke’s lips pressed together in a thin line and he didn't answer immediately.  After a moment he sighs.  “She’s small.” 
“She’s gonna be okay though, right?” You look to Luke for all the answers.  And he wants to give them to you.  He wants to give everything to you. 
He nods.  “She’s gonna be okay.  She’s a fighter, like her mom.”
Your daughter has to stay in the NICU for two, agonizingly long weeks.  After a couple of days, you start to get some energy back.  But seeing her in that box, and not being able to hold your baby when you wanted was taking its toll emotionally. 
You and Luke stayed at the hospital for the entirety of the two weeks, never wanting to leave her alone.  
It was painful and hard and exhausting, but together, it almost seemed bearable.  
The team visited in shifts.  Garcia arrived first with a giant bundle of pink balloons.  Spencer and JJ brought magazines and books to keep you busy.  Tara has a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Matt and Kristy brought you clothes to change into.  Rossi and Emily brought various dishes for the two of you to eat.  By the end of your two weeks, you felt incredibly grateful for your BAU family. 
On the day that you and Luke were finally given the okay to take your daughter home, you found your nerves inching their way back into the forefront of your mind. It was an absolute relief that your premature daughter turned out to be healthy and safe and as beautiful as ever.  But you thought about the unfinished room at home and your stomach twisted into knots. 
“Where are we gonna put her?” you asked, imagining the crib you’d bought and never put together.  
“I’ll put it together when we get home,” Luke assures you.  “Can’t be that hard.”
You nodded, pushing the thought away.  It didn’t matter.  Not when you had this miracle of a baby in your arms. 
When Luke pulled the car into the driveway of your house, you both stared at your home, hesitating before getting out of the car, as if it was just now hitting you how much everything was about to change.  
Luke gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. 
“Ready?” he asked. 
You nod, everything was changing for the better.  “Ready.”
You keep her cradled to your chest as you make your way through your home.  The first order of business for Luke was to put together the crib, so your daughter would at least have a place to sleep.  
You’d worry about the rest later.  
But when you climb the stairs, you’re startled to see Garcia standing in your hallway, a cheeky grin on her face.  
“Pen, hi,” you smile.  You’d given her a key to take care of Roxy and water your plants while you were away at the hospital, you assume that was what she was here for.  
“Hi,” she smiles wide.  “Oh my goodness, is that my little bundle of joy! Let me see!” 
You pass Penelope your daughter, watching adoringly as the two interact. 
“Is someone else here?” Luke asks, peering down the hall when he hears voices. 
Garcia nods, her signature, ear to ear smile spreading across her face.  “Yeah, actually we have a surprise for you guys.” She passes your daughter back to you before turning.  
“Who’s ‘we’?” Luke asks skeptically. 
“Oh, just shut up and follow me,” she says.  Her heels click as she walks down the hall towards the bedrooms.  
When you turn the corner into your daughter's room, you can’t help but let out a loud gasp.  Your jaw practically falls to the floor, surprised to see the entire team piled inside.  
Two walls of the room were painted a beautiful shade of pink, while the other two were a soft gray.  There were various decoratives hanging on the walls, tying everything together perfectly.  There were also numerous shelves filled with an assortment of stuffed animals, toys, and books.  And in the corner stood the hardwood crib that Luke and you had bought, completely put together and accented with a beautiful mobile hanging above it.  
“Oh my god,” Luke gawks, clearly just as surprised as you. 
“You guys-” you start, but you before you can finish your sentence you start to cry.  “You guys did all this?”
The smiling faces of the rest of your team answer your question.  
“How?” Is all you can manage to say.  
“Well, I picked out the colors and the decor,” Garcia says, like it’s obvious. “Emily and Tara both helped paint.”
“And I've put my fair share of cribs together,” Matt chuckles, patting the edge of the darkwood.  “It took no time at all.”
“JJ and Spencer got together the books and the stuffed animals,” Garcia motions towards the corner of toys.  
“And I supervised,” Rossi smirked, making everyone laugh. 
“Guys, this is too much.” Luke shakes his head in disbelief before exhaling and saying sincerely,  “thank you.”
You nod in agreement.  “This is… amazing.  This is more than I could have ever dreamed of.  I love it.  She’s gonna love it,” you motion towards your now sleeping baby, mouth open and drooling on your chest.  
The team knows how exhausted you and Luke are from being at the hospital for the past two weeks, so they don’t stay long.  Slowly, they begin filing out of your house, offering both you and the new BAU baby with hugs and kisses goodbye.  
Garcia’s the last to leave as she gathers her coat from your entryway chair.  
“Pen, I know this was your idea,” you mumble.  “You didn’t have to do all this.  Thank you.” 
She shakes her head, her eyes rolling as she hugs you gently.  When she pulls away, she smirks,  “If you thought I was going to let my Goddaughter come home to an unfinished room, you are underestimating how much I am going to spoil her.”  
With that, she's out the door, leaving you and Luke and your newborn baby alone in the house for the first time as a family of three. Luke wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into his side securely.  You sigh, all of your anxiety and fears melting away.  Being in his arms had a way of making you feel better.  
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theobligatedklutz · 3 years
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tbh i love that julie's fam is so so supportive and her dad and brother's reactions to her singing... omg just rip my heart out pls. and yess the lack of toxic masculinity between luke, alex, and reggie! tbh i have never seen a show that displays the level of affection and pure joy between those teen boys like... ever??? especially when typically, esp with alex being gay, shows always play off guys affection with an emphasis of OMG WERE NOT GAY. and its like wtf chill out & also who cares?
Julie’s family is one of my favorite dynamics on the show. Carlos isn't the “ew familial affection, get out of my room, I hate my annoying sister” type of kid brother that we’ve all seen like billions of time on our screens. He shows affection in ways we’ve all longed to see -“I’m just trying to protect you” and ‘I’m not afraid to hug you’ and ‘my older sister is playing music again!’ and “there can be two men of the house” (like this kid is really something else). JATP said no to cliche family relations and gave us warm beautiful healthy relationships between family instead. Ray Molina is also such an affectionate soul with the way he acts around both his children - their little finger hugs (pls do not call me out on the way I phrased this im-), the constant check-ins with Julie and asking her how she’s doing (he’s 100% doing the same with Carlos too)- and the way Ray is willing to go far and wide to fulfill his kids’ wishes (ie. moving out, looking for a performing art school for Julie, supporting Julie and Carlos’ endeavors: music (he allowed a house party band performance!!! for goodness sakes!!!) and ghost hunting respectively) and his excitement for both Julie and Carlos (the rain of paper when Julie told him she got her spot back in her school and the mini french dip chef arc). One moment in particular that I absolutely love is when Ray comes into Julie’s bedroom and suggests she see Dr. Turner again but he notices immediately that Julie has tensed at the mention of therapy, he turns that conversation around so fast to make sure Julie is comfortable again (JUST INCREDIBLE - LEARN PARENTING FROM RAY, KIDS). And don’t get me started on Tia Victoria. This woman said ‘no, I have adopted the Molina family now and I will protect and care for them and they will not be eating leftovers or takeout! not on my watch.’ I want to see so many more moments of interactions between Tia and both Carlos and Julie and I want to see her interact with Ray more. Tia Tori epitomizes support and I want to see so much more of that, we need more of that.
One of the things I absolutely love about this show is how nonchalant everyone is about Alex being gay. Luke mentions it in passing so we are not left guessing about Alex’s sexuality especially in the way he visibly gulps in his first meeting with Willie with that “ah shit I'm gay for him” look on his face. He’s just gay. Nothing more to it. Making sexuality something that is finally casual in 2020 (even though it should’ve been casual eons ago) makes this show stand out like no other (Kenny effing Ortego did that!!!). And on the same line of thought, even though Luke and Reggie know that Alex is gay, they treat him no different; there is no lesser affection between the boys because of it, there’s no “no homo” moments. They don’t react when Alex says “no <3” (which is improvised by Owen Joyner- wth??? INCREDIBLE!) when Reggie says “girls, right?” They are just a couple of teenage boys being teenage boys who love and adore each other. 
Luke is the most affectionate boy I’ve ever laid eyes on. This boy LITERALLY writes songs for his boys (see: crooked teeth). The scene between Reggie and Luke where he’s trying to show the boys that he has limitless chemistry- bruh that just got me! He is not afraid to be touchy feely (let’s be honest, it’s his love language) and I just want to see more of it in s2. To be honest, they are all really really really touchy-feely and like I’ve said before, they took toxic masculinity and lit it on fire. They are not afraid to support each other, hold hands and hug, they pick up on each others’ cues, they find each other on stage and give each other space. And they are so quick to pull Julie into their chaos and make her part of their little overjoyed puppy family. And you can see that these are not just their roles. Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Maddie have the same form of companionship, they are best friends, they are family and it shows in complete fashion on screen. GIVE ME MORE OF THESE LOVEABLE DORKS IN SEASON 2 OR ELSE.
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2-cute-4-school · 4 years
Text
𝙉𝘾𝙏 𝘿𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 : 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣 𝙞𝙙𝙤𝙡 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙
@cherry-jaemin ~ Hello! Can I request a dreamies reaction to you being an idol and their best friend? Thank you!! ♡ (◕‿◕✿)   ~~~  Thank you so much for your request it was really fun to write, hope you’ll like it!! :)))))
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Mark Lee
he cherishes you A LOT (︶ω︶)
but i honestly see him as someone who keeps his private life private
so your close friendship is kept lowkey
but he finds time to spend time with you despite both your busy schedules even if it’s made through your phone screens :(((((
one thing he’s most grateful for is that you understand
you understand what it’s like spending hours in the practice room frustrated, you understand what it’s like constantly missing home, you understand what it’s like working nonstop with no breaks until your body forcefully gives up my heart breaks for him every damn time
you understand him
your friendship is so pure (•ˇ‿ˇ•)
like you can both be laughing your asses off one minute, mark flopping around like a fish on land
and the next one you can be having a therapy session usually consisting of wordless comfort
mark doesn’t seem an emotional person but if there’s one(1) thing that can shatter him is witnessing you on your breaking point
like you were usually the one to check up on him often and pull him away from work for a while before he drowned himself in it
so seeing you overworked and utterly exhausted made him sick
no one could convince him to leave your side for some time (⌯˃̶᷄ ﹏ ˂̶᷄⌯)゚
you clung onto each other and mark softly scolded you for taking more care of him than yourself despite knowing that he’d do the same you’re like his baby he’s allowed to
other than your emotional moments you’re so playful together
‘bruh’ ‘dude’ ‘man’ - your daily vocabulary involving each other -_-
you sometimes gather in a studio and just write lyrics together or help each other with practice bonding time
basically you just vibe together so well and you’re just so grateful for each other’s presence because it eases your hectic and busy lives
you feel like a breath of fresh air to him and vice versa
Huang Renjun
friendship with him is basically clowns clowning each other 🤡
even more so since you can both joke about your shared career
he makes a tradition of reacting to your every m/v god help u he clowns you from the first second to the last
“looking a bit constipated aren’t we, y/n? i guess that hotpot didn’t sit well with you” <( ̄︶ ̄)>
“that’s just my face when i think about u, garden troll”
*huff* *incoherent mumbles of protest*
but he secretly streams THE SHIT OUT OF YOUR M/V and forces the rest of the dreamies to watch it several times too
you watch his radio every evening and sometimes even send in cringy messages just to get a reaction out of renjun lol
so basically you’re super supportive of each other but in your own ways
imagine sleepovers ma friend that’s a wiiild ride
ghost stories, alien conspiracies, crazy theories - THE MAIN MENU
bet y’all renjun can’t sleep without someone he can hold onto after watching or talking about scary things ੧| ‾́ー ‾́ |੭
and you wouldn’t call that cuddling no, it’s more like....strangling....but with love....kinda....yeah that sure  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
on another note, you made it you personal mission to lift his confidence whenever SM doesn’t treat him right (╬ Ò ‸ Ó) y’all evil cockroaches
and renjun always promotes you subtly during his lives
“ ‘renjun can you give us a song recommendation?’ yeah sure actually there’s this song-” spoiler alert : it’s always one of your songs
one of the biggest secrets in kpop is who drew that *absolutely* gorgeous portrait of you that you proudly showed in your own live
spoiler alert x2 : it’s renjun, it’s always renjun
your friendship is really one of a kind
basically best friends lovingly clowning and supporting each other at the same time precious am i rite
Lee Jeno
jeno seems like a very comforting person to me
like he’s someone you can go and vent to about all the pressure of your career and what not
and he’d just listen to you and hold your hand tightly in his if you’re able to meet face to face, he has his own way of grounding you when everything gets hectic (^v^)
he’s a lowkey hypeman
whenever you happen to perform at the same awards show as dream he makes sure to dance and cheer cutely for you o(≧∇≦o)
you won an award?? this man is so proud he hollers louder than your fans well basically he’s your no.1 fan soo :))))))
he always tries to shield you away from hate so it’s one of the reasons he doesn’t disclose much of your closeness lowkey protective jeno
you had an airport accident once common against idols unfortunately
lemme tell ya, jeno went NUTS  (`⌒´メ)
he’s not a confrontational person but he CAN and WILL be when it comes to you
he babies the heck out of you for the next few days :3
and once he has the occasion to turn on vlive he takes a minute to *calmly* explain that while idols love their fans, it’s not fine for fans to invade their privacy and personal space preach sister
you were also close to flipping the sasaengs’s shit up when they kept bothering keno with calls leave the man alone jeez (┛ಠДಠ)┛彡┻━┻
he always reminds you to to take care of yourself
“don’t push yourself too hard” “don’t drink too much coffee, you’ve seen what it can do to jaemin and we don’t want that now, do we?”
he often covers your dances ⌒°(❛ᴗ❛)°⌒ and nails them
“jeno you’re dancing better than me on MY OWN SONG”
“idk what you’re talking about” (^ω^)
overall your cheerleader and each other’s poorly read not at all paid bodyguards
Lee Haechan
“your sun is here to enlighten your life!!!!!”
“gtfo hyuck”
this man knows no privacy
he’s ruthless and he visits whenever he wants even if it means that’s on a wednesday AT 3 AM (┛◉Д◉)┛彡┻━┻
he tells you it’s because your ‘just forcefully woken up’ is the best blackmailing material
in reality it’s because he just misses you A LOT ( ⁍᷄⌢̻⁍᷅ )
this rascal is busy a lot and you’re busy a lot and so every single moment spent with you is so so precious to you both
he gets overwhelmed by this feeling of longing sometimes so he acts on instinct and just barges in wherever you are
but you can also count on him at any time
*middle of the night* *donghyuck sleepily answering his phone* *sniff* *sniff* “hyuck”
“yeah what’s wrong??? who am i beating up???? should i take johnny too???? just say the name cutie (*`Ω´*)”
you only ended up crying about missing his cuddles
*sigh* “you only love me for my cuddles”
you once told him fleetingly that you missed breakfast and lunch
you found 2 boxes of takeout outside your apartment already paid by a certain someone i need a hyuck pls
he’s also quite vocal about your friendship and randomly mentions you
“y/n told me that i look cutest with my baby belly so unless you wanna pick a fight with them lay off gremlin” ー( ̄~ ̄)ξ
both your dreams are to get to collab on something anything it would be heavenly for hyuck to colllab with anyone tbh
nothing can keep you 2 apart, your duo is just too strong and the world just isn’t ready for you
Na Jaemin
he’s such a warm person
he babies you but just because he wishes you’d have more time to spend with each other ( *’ω’* )
so the only way to quench his worry is texting you daily to make sure you’re alright and taking care of yourself or he’d personally do it
the way he talks about you tho (╯✧∇✧)╯ like you put the stars in the sky you did for him
“y/n is actually quite good at this game, i ate dirt when we played together”
“y/n looks so pretty in those pictures we took together” Σ(*ノ´>ω<。`)ノ
“y/n is my favorite model end of story”
talking about his love for photography, you’re his model 80% of the time
his camera roll is filled with pictures of you every time you find enough time in both your busy schedules to meet up
he has enough to open a fanpage if he hasn’t done that already ;)
in turn you’d secretly dedicate parts of the lyrics you wrote to him
i’m telling you he would CRY hearing your sweet voice sing such beautiful words meant for him he would feel so appreciated pls ( ˃̣̣̥ω˂̣̣̥ )
he always says that he has no other friends other than his members so having you validating the strong bond he feels with you would elevate him to cloud 9  :,(((((
i can imagine you two meeting on a variety show a mess that would be
you can’t be too close in front of the cameras in order not to give the wrong impressions
but behind the scenes you’re not leaving each other’s side, chatting and clinging onto each other the entire time (≡^∇^≡)
and even on screen as long as you’re allowed to you’re attached to the hip, ALWAYS beside each other
in conclusion you’re the besties everyone is envious of and wishes to share such a precious bond with someone ∩(︶▽︶)∩
Zhong Chenle
y’all are basically the ‘you can’t sit with us’ pair -_-
another one who i think would keep your friendship private
like it is public that you two are friends but neither of you shares more about your meetups and so on
but chenle is lowkey highkey whipped
chenji making keychains for the rest of nct? +1 for y/n (/^▽^)/
surprise party for chenle’s birthday? you’re dressed as staff waiting for him to notice you after cameras are turned off he screeched so loud the entire building heard him and then proceeded to cling onto you forever
you know how chenle took jisung to him home in china? he took you with him as often as you both could afford the time to he even rescheduled a few times to make it convenient for you to come along (。•́︿•̀。)
he buys all versions of your albums cuz he can
going to each other’s concerts!!!!!
i can imagine you accompanying his family to the dream concert (˃̩̩̥ɷ˂̩̩̥) the same one when jeno and jaemin decided to get nakey nakey yes
you’re texting nonstop istg (◔_◔)
chenle can always be seen texting in the waiting rooms and so on
you’re his source of confidence before concert and certain schedules
also you’re probably discussing your hangout plans :))))
which often ends up in playing basketball in a park at night and then getting bored or tired and just wandering aimlessly around
you secretly record duets together unreleased unfortunately ( ب_ب )
and he teaches you how to play piano
basically your friendship is very playful and you find a comfort place in each other to remind yourselves that you’re allowed to have fun and live your lives o(*>ω<*)o
Park Jisung
i think it took quite a while to befriend him
his shyness can get the best of him sometimes it’s okay bby
but once you got hi to break out of his shell you’ve got yourself a lifelong best friend congrats (ര̀ᴗര́)و ̑̑
he shows his caring nature through small acts
texts you good luck and encourages you before award shows
becomes your dramatic weatherman
literally glitches if you ever have even a *slightly* sexy concept
“how did you like the dance, jisungie?”
“i-uh...um...it was...yeah...it was really uh *coughs* *clears throat* it was NICE, yeah...nice” (๑ּగ⌄ּగ๑)
ofc he *absolutely* loved it, he just respects you and looks up to you too much to make any further commentary
you coach each other through dance routines :3
you never fail to calm down and give confidence to jisung whenever his nerves get in the way
jaemin actually specifically asked you to look after jisung during his hiatus
jisung’s TMI’s sometimes involve you  (´ㅂ`๑)
“today’s tmi? i started working on a surprise for you czennies...and i got help from a very talented performer”
the surprise was a dance cover choreographed and performed with you that was the death of your fandoms ੧| ⊗ ▾ ⊗ |୨
you can be considered childhood friends so you understand each other with little to no words spoken
that’s why everyone loves your ‘partners in pure crime’ friendship
393 notes · View notes
helaintoloki · 3 years
Note
Could you do Ben + 11 for the holiday prompt list pls? It just sounds super cute 😍
a/n: i loved writing this sm and i hope you guys enjoy it ♡
warning: language, lots of fluff
*11: getting each other as your secret Santa // taken from this prompt list
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You couldn’t help but feel nervous as you stood on the front steps of Allison’s home with your neatly wrapped gift held tightly to your figure and waited for someone to answer the door. This was to be your first Christmas with the Hargreeves siblings since you were children, and you hoped you’d be able to keep up with infamously chaotic super family. You also hoped that the person you’d drawn for secret Santa liked their present; it was safe to say you’d be crushed if they turned out to be disappointed by the gift you’d so meticulously chosen for them.
The door swings open and a gleeful Klaus greets your meek figure in the doorway. Adorned in an ugly Christmas sweater that reads Merry Xmas Fuckers and equipped with a glass of eggnog in hand, the seance eagerly tugs you inside and scolds you for not having come in sooner.
“You poor little thing, just standing out in the cold like some lonely orphan,” he says dramatically, draping an arm over your shoulders and guiding you into the living room where the rest of the siblings reside. You take a moment to admire the lavish Christmas decorations that adorn the house and make a mental note of Allison’s decoration skills— her house was warm and inviting and big, and the best part about it was that it was all hers. She prided herself on the fact that she’d earned it on her own, without her powers, so it was only natural that she make a display of grandeur in her home for the holidays.
“Y/n!” Allison exclaims with a smile the moment you enter the room. Her excitement pulls all attention towards you, Diego and Luther ceasing their quarrel over the last candy cane and Five and Vanya looking away from George Bailey on the tv screen. Ben is nowhere to be found. “I’m so glad you made it.”
“Of course,” you reply with a meager smile, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“You can put your present under the tree over there, we’ll be doing the gift exchange after dinner,” she chirps merrily.
“Umm, so where’s Ben?” You try to ask as nonchalantly as possible while setting your gift down in the designated area— the much larger boxes and elegantly wrapped presents make you insecure about your own— but the knowing smile she gives you tells you that your attempt to be discrete has failed.
“In the kitchen. You should go see if he needs help, something tells me he might be struggling,” she laughs, and you take that as your cue to venture off to find your friend.
You make sure to smoothen out your top and pat down any stray hairs before curiously peeking into the kitchen, and a smile pulls at your lips at the sight before you. A frazzled Ben stands in front of the counter skimming over the stained pages of a holiday cookbook. His clothes would be absolutely ruined if not for the frilly apron with Mom embroidered on the front tied around his torso, and despite the cheerful Christmas music playing from the speakers the poor thing looks absolutely stressed.
“You doing okay in here?” You ask with a quiet laugh, your heart skipping a beat at the immediate relief present on Ben’s face when he sees you.
“Please help me,” he begs. “I’m a terrible cook and I have no idea what I’m doing yet somehow I was put in charge of baking the gingerbread men.”
“Alright,” you giggle, standing beside him at the counter to look over the recipe, “lets see what we’re working with here.”
Ben, relieved to have you here, is now anxious for a much different reason. You’re close to him, so close that every time you reach across the counter for an ingredient your arm grazes against the sleeve of his sweater. The soft jingling of your bracelet and the sweet smell of cinnamon that emanates from you makes him dizzy in the most pleasant way, yet he says nothing. What is he to say? That he’s in love with one of his closest friends? A friend that he’s shared with his siblings since they were kids? No, it would make things weird, and Ben didn’t want it to be weird, at least not anymore weird than it must be to have a man with tentacles that protrude from his chest be secretly in love with you.
“You’re quiet,” you note with a small hum, and Ben is impressed to see that you’re already beginning to cut the shapes of the little gingerbread men into the dough. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, no,” Ben rushes, “just looking forward to the gift exchange is all.”
You say nothing after that due to the nerves that arise at the mention of the secret Santa event, but Ben takes your silence as satisfaction in his answer, and so you both continue to bake with only the sounds of the speakers to fill in the quiet space.
“Okay, present time!” Allison cheers only to be met with a chorus of sluggish groans. After Ben’s short lived panic the cookies had been baked to perfection and all was set for a lovely dinner. Allison and Diego were amazing cooks, but almost everyone now felt too full to so much as move a muscle. Klaus had taken to the couch and was half asleep watching old Christmas cartoons, so to Allison’s dismay it seemed the gift giving would have to wait.
Seated on the floor in front of the tree, you find your gaze shifting from the group in front of you playing cards to Allison and Five who clear off the table and then back to the gifts in front of you. All seem to glimmer underneath the lights, and despite the fact that such a sight would normally bring joy to anyone who looked upon it, you couldn’t help but feel nauseous at the thought of giving your gift to your assigned person. Maybe if you had gotten someone like Vanya or Luther you wouldn’t be so nervous, even getting Five would have been better than who you had. The stakes were higher because- well, because when names had been drawn and you’d eagerly unfolded your scrap of paper you’d been terrified to see the person fate had chosen for you: Ben.
It wasn’t Ben you were terrified of. No, not at all. It was your feelings for Ben that scared the living daylights out of you and made you wish you could turn invisible whenever he so much as breathed in your general direction. You’d been in love with him since the time chocolate milk accidentally shot out of his nose at Griddy’s when Klaus bumped him just a little too hard, but so many years had passed and nothing had ever seemed to happen between the two of you. You grew up, grew apart, and for a few years you didn’t hear much from him or his siblings for that matter. But then Reginald passed, and Pogo surprised you with an extended invitation to the funeral— he felt that your presence would be good for the children— and suddenly you were back in each other’s lives.
Ben was a friend, a good friend, and you knew each other better than you knew yourselves. You knew that his nose always scrunched when he was angry, and he knew that if you began to fiddle with whatever jewelry you wearing in the moment it meant you were nervous. There was history, and to ruin a friendship like that purely because of your own selfish desires would be a disaster. You couldn’t do it, it didn’t matter what Allison said or how you felt, you would settle for being his friend and nothing more.
So lost in your own tangent, you don’t notice said friend standing before you until he gently clears his throat and gives you a sheepish smile in return for your surprised features.
“Hey, you...?” Ben says, visibly cringing at the awkwardness of his tone. “I was thinking of getting some fresh air, do you want to come with?”
“Oh, y-yeah,” you smile sheepishly. “Sure.”
“Cool. I’ll grab your coat for you.”
You watch his figure disappear, your stomach twisting in knots as you contemplate your next decision, and before you can change your mind you quickly grab his gift from underneath the tree and hide it from view as best as you can. You know Allison wants to open gifts together, but you’d prefer giving Ben’s his in private. At least if he’s disappointed you can save yourself from the humiliation.
Ben is already waiting for you outside on the front porch, and with a careful smile you quietly sit beside him and stare out into the night sky. The stars twinkle brightly overhead, and you find yourself subconsciously checking to make sure the moon is still intact. It’s been a chaotic year, but you’re glad to be nearing the end, and you’re glad to be here with Ben.
“So um, I know we’re supposed to exchange gifts together, but I couldn’t wait,” you say, and Ben is pleasantly surprised to see you pull out a neatly wrapped gift. “Merry Christmas from your secret Santa, I guess.”
“No way,” he laughs softly, “that’s crazy.”
“What’s so crazy about me being your secret Santa?” You retort with mock offense only for him to grin.
“Nothing,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “except for the fact that I’m kind of your secret Santa, too.”
“Wait, what?”
You look at Ben in shock as he carefully pulls out a small, neatly wrapped box from his sweater pocket and delicately rests it in your lap. There’s a bashful smile on his face and a red dust on his cheeks, but you decide to chalk it up to the cold air outside. Nonetheless, a disbelieving laugh leaves you at the sight of your gift.
“What a pleasant surprise,” you giggle.
“Yeah, that’s kind of why I asked you out here. I also wanted to give you your gift in private, maybe make it a little more personal. Do you want to open it?”
“You open yours first,” you interject, a nervous smile tugging at your lips. Ben laughs.
“Alright, let’s see,” he says with a small smile. Your stomach is full of nervous fluttering as you watch Ben carefully tear away the wrapping paper before opening the box. His eyes light up in surprise when he sees the inside, and you hold your breath as he carefully pulls out the contents. A smiling pink sea monster meets his eyes and the Horror can’t help but to laugh at the sight of it. “Is this...?”
“It’s exactly the same as the one I lost when we were kids,” you reaffirm with a bashful smile. “I always felt so bad about the fact that you let me have it only for me to lose it, so when I saw it I knew I had to get it.”
A smile brighter than the sun curls upon his lips, and his eyes almost seem to sparkle underneath the moonlight as he pulls out the second item in the box. With a softer gaze now, Ben stares down at the frame in his hands and feels his heart begin to swell. A familiar photograph, one of his personal favorites in fact, from your childhood rests behind the glass, and when Ben looks to you his eyes are glossy with tears.
“I love it, y/n,” he says gently, immediately pulling you into possibly the tightest hug you’ve ever received. “Thank you.”
“I’m glad,” you reply, relief immediately washing over you at his reaction to your gifts. However, the butterflies persist, and you have to remind yourself that Ben is your friend and nothing more.
“Now open yours,” he says excitedly, his eyes never once leaving your face as you unwrap your gift in the same skillful manner Ben had used for his own.
A velvet box greets you underneath the colorful paper, and with a gentle prodding from Ben you slowly remove the lid to reveal a beautiful gold locket underneath. A small gasp leaves you as you look from the necklace to Ben.
“Wasn’t the spending limit like, forty dollars??”
“Oh hush, open the locket!”
Carefully taking the necklace out from its box, you gently pull the heart shaped hatch back from its place to reveal the exact same photograph you’d gifted Ben in the frame.
“You’re kidding,” you breathe out with a laugh. “The same picture?”
“Great minds think alike, right?” Ben jokes, but there’s a fond look upon his face as he looks at you. “I just really wanted you to know how much you mean to me, because you’re really important and I just... I really love you.”
Your heart skips a beat at his confession, and as Ben looks at you with hopeful eyes you decide that life is too short to let fear hold you back. Setting the box down beside you, you scoot closer to Ben and take a deep breath.
“I have one more present for you,” you say, prompting Ben to peek up at you curiously.
“What is it?”
And on the front porch of Allison’s house with the stars shining bright above you, you kiss Ben Hargreeves for the first time.
114 notes · View notes
heartbrokenct · 3 years
Text
without you - jjh
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pairing idol!jung jaehyun x reader
genre fluff + the slightest bit of angst
word count 5.7k (i know)
warnings get ur tish ready b, this is-...
summary Jaehyun is sent to the US for a music study, but what he doesn’t expect is to leave with a lot more than just music theory. 
a/n i was going to make this a multi-part thing just so i could keep it short but i figured why not make it one huge fic. anyway, pls lmk if you enjoy this!
    “Oh, come on, loser. It’ll be great! Besides, what is one small blind date going to do? Nothing, exactly! So get dressed and do whatever, and be ready to go at 7.” Your friend rambled on the other side of the phone, and you rolled your eyes. 
     “How in the hell do you always manage to convince me to make the dumbest decisions?” You say, slightly annoyed. Apparently one of your cousin's friends was “on the market” and of course your cousin decided to make plans for you and this friend of theirs without even asking you beforehand. Hell, you didn’t even know what this "friend" looked like. After a few more minutes of your cousin desperately getting you to agree, you laughed and hung up, realising the time was just past 4pm, and the date was in only 3 hours. 
    Quickly jumping into the shower, you heard your phone ringing again, and assuming it was your cousin, back to bother, you ignored it and got busy getting clean and fresh. After the shower came the skincare routine, as usual, and after that the terrifying choice of “what to wear on a first date with a stranger” loomed over you as you stared at the numerous possible outfits in your closet. Sighing, you start to yank things off hangers and try them on, twirling in the mirror and doing a few greeting motions, trying to gauge what you’d look like. You caught sight of yourself as you were taking off a top, and noticed just how great you looked, instantly getting  a boost of confidence. 
   You checked your phone quickly and noticed a missed call and a few texts from an unknown number, so you unlocked it and took a closer look. 
  #### : Hey, this is Jaehyun. I got your number from your cousin, they mentioned that we should probably decide on where to go but if you don’t mind, I made some reservations at this restaurant.
  #### : Address. 
  #### : Does 7pm sound okay?
You checked the time stamp on the message, and gasp. He’d messaged you almost an hour and a half ago, so you quickly typed a few messages in response, and hoped that he wouldn’t be too upset. And you hadn’t even gotten the chance to set your phone down when it dinged again, and another message popped up on the screen. 
   Blind-date guy : Oh wow, I was beginning to think you were standing me up before the date even began. 
   Blind-date guy : I’m just joking! Please don’t stand me up again, I truly can’t go through the night again with 5 waiters giving me sympathy pats on the back. 
   At that, you let out a small laugh, and wonder suddenly if he was some creep who just emanated those vibes. Honestly, leave it up to your family to prank you like that. They mentioned he was some sort of celebrity in Korea, but was here in the states studying music. 
   Blind-date guy : Was that too much info? That was definitely too much info… Hopefully I’ll see you tonight! 
     A smile graced your features, and you gave him an affirmative response before frantically turning towards the closet with a rather worried look. The address he had sent you was of a pretty upscale restaurant, and you weren’t sure if you had anything nice enough to wear. Plus, it was almost 40 minutes away from your place, which meant almost an hour and a half with the traffic in your city. You sighed, and double checked the time. Almost 6pm. Screaming, you decided on something elegant but also pretty casual, and grabbed your favorite pair of shoes to match. After one last look over in the mirror, you snapped a pic and sent it to your cousin, who called you while you were rushing to your car to tell you just how great you looked. 
  “Jaehyun’s going to be drooling all over you. He loves that fashion style, and the fact that you just look so exquisite… yeah hopefully you wore something nice underneath too!” They quipped, and you gasped, laughing and telling them off, before thanking them quickly and hanging up. 
     Almost 75 minutes later, you got to the address Jaehyun had sent you and you marveled at the exterior of the building. It looked so wonderful, and the smell of the food emanating from inside only reminded you of how hungry you were. Rushing inside, you went up to the hostess, and said you were here under a reservation for Jaehyun. She smiled, giving you a knowing look before leading you to a table near the back where it was more quiet. 
   You knew who he was even before the hostess motioned you to the right table. He just looked kingly, and his presence seemed to draw everyone’s attention all at once. His face looked a bit nervous, but as soon as he looked at you, it seemed to drain from his face and was quickly replaced with awe. His eyes looked up and down your body and suddenly you felt the need to hide from his piercing gaze. He stood, and nodded a thank you to the hostess, then came around the table and took out your chair, allowing you to sit before tucking it in slightly. 
    “Hi-ello...Hello.” He said, his voice coming out a bit softer than he expected, and you stifled a laugh. 
    “Hi, I’m Y/n. It’s really lovely to meet you Jaehyun.” You said, and sent him a warm smile. His face seemed to go a bit red and he cleared his throat, trying a greeting again.
    “Hello Y/n. You look amazing; it’s likewise very lovely to meet you.” A short pause, and he continued, “My friend told me a lot about you, but they didn’t mention just how attractive you are. Well, not attractive- I mean yes attractive but- Like- Y'know-” He stammered, and lifted a hand to run through his hair, and somehow managed to poke his eye slightly. He let his hand drop to the table and he laughed. You let out the laugh you’d been holding and joined his, reaching over the table to grab his nervous hands softly. 
    “Thank you, please don’t hurt yourself trying to compliment me.” You joked, and paused to check out the menu as the waiter came to take your drink order. After getting over the original awkwardness and choosing a meal, the both of you fell into a comfortable conversation ranging from your careers to deep philosophical questions. You picked up on the fact that he seemed to be really proud about his career as an idol in Korea, and how he had always wanted to become a singer. His eyes lit up as he described a bit of what it was like, before he asked you about your job, and passions.
 You barely noticed when the food was placed in front of you, or when the other patrons all looked at you both talking with knowing looks in their eyes, or even when the water came by with the bill. You could only focus on this wonderfully interesting man in front of you, who was surprisingly deeper than his very apparent good looks. The waiter came by to see if the bill was ready, and the both of you stopped your conversation, and then half argued about who would foot the bill. He refused to even let you see the total cost, so in the end, you had let him win. He went to reach for his wallet before asking you another question which again distracted you from the bill and as the waiter made his second appearance, Jaehyun quickly (and rather proudly) tucked his card into the leather folder all while giving the waiter an apologetic smile. You watched him, your head tilted to one side and a soft smile played on your lips as his dimples made their comeback on his face. He turned to you and then grabbed a hold of his drink, making eye contact with you over the rim. 
   “Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked, and you cleared your throat, shaking your head. 
   “Oh… Just admiring from afar.” You said, and he seemed to get a tad flustered. You let out a laugh through your nose, and the waiter came by with Jaehyun’s card. 
   “How much was the dinner? It wasn’t too much was it?” You ask again, and he shakes his head. 
   “I’m the one who made the reservation so I gladly paid for it. Don’t worry about it at all, okay?” He said, in a soft tone, and stood coming around to your side of the table and holding out his hand. 
   “Shall we?” He said, and you raised your eyebrows while putting your hand into his. He gripped it as he led you out of the restaurant and then stopped outside, looking up at the sky. You checked your phone, and saw the time read 11:17pm. 
   “Already?” You mumbled out loud subconsciously, but Jaehyun caught it. 
   “Already what?” He said, and looked at you, peering down at the screen of your phone. He noted the time, and sighed. 
   “Ah, did I keep you too long? If you’re taking public transit or a cab home, let me drive you. Since it’s late.” He said, and raised his eyebrows waiting for a response. You smirked, and rummaged around your belongings before producing your keys, and you jangled them in front of his face. 
   “I’ve got a ride, but thank you. It’s been a wonderful evening. Everything and more.” You said, a smile plastered on your face. He gave you one of his own, dimples and all, and you melted. 
   “Well good. If you’d like… maybe we could do this again? I’ll be in the states for another few months, for my music study.” He said, and you nodded, suddenly hit with the fact that he was some celebrity, but you hadn't seen a single crazed fan anywhere tonight. Nonetheless, you said your goodbyes, and gave him a hug before walking to your car. You missed the way he stared at you as you walked away and smiled to himself. He missed your creased brow as you wondered if it was even worth pursuing him. 
-
     A few dates and three months later, you were sprawled out on Jaehyun’s couch after a long day at your job. He was currently in the shower, leaving your eyes to roam around. The last time you’d been here you hadn’t really stopped to look around, and as those thoughts flooded to the front of your mind, you felt your face heating up. Suddenly the shower turned off, and you straightened up, trying to push the memories out of your mind, as a half clothed Jaehyun walked around into the living area. 
   “Hey, stranger, long time no see.” He said, walking over and leaving a soft but chaste kiss on your lips. You smiled at him and stood, using one finger to push him away by his chest. 
   “Hey yourself, stranger, I suggest you get dressed before we get really well acquainted with one another.” You said, and your eyes flicked down to the edge of the towel that was currently the only thing wrapped around him. He smirked and tried to pull you closer to him, and just as your lips were about to connect, his phone rang. He sighs and lets his head drop, and apologises before quickly picking up the phone. 
   “Yes, Hello?” He said into the phone, and suddenly his back tensed. You frowned, looking at his suddenly stiff muscles, and wanted to reach out to comfort him but something in your gut told you to hold off. He huffed angrily into the phone and let his head fall back, looking up at the ceiling. He finished his call, and turned to you with an upset look on his face. You pouted and he sighed, running a hand through his hair. 
   “An emergency came up. I have to fly back to Korea early.” He said, dejectedly. 
   “How much earlier?” You ask, afraid to ask. Truthfully, you knew this time was coming. The time when this weird three month long fling would come to an end, but you had decided to pursue it anyway. You knew that you’d end up hurt and he’d move on to whoever in Korea while you’d be left back here picking up the pieces of your heart. But his face twisted into one of empathy and he swallowed down his tears. 
   “A few weeks early. My manager said my flight is… next Thursday.” He said, and you gasped. He came up to you, and enveloped you into a huge hug, just holding you tightly against him. The smell of your shampoo invaded his senses and the only thing he wanted was to hold you like that forever. He suddenly remembered everything that he left back in Korea. His career, the rest of the members, his family. Everything was there, but you were here. You had changed his life in these past few weeks more than all his 23 years of experience had. More than his music study could ever teach him. And now, with just a few days left to be here with you, he found himself dreading going back. 
   “Jae?” You mumbled into his bare chest. 
   “Hm?” He answered, still holding on to you. 
   “Can you go put on some clothes and let’s just chill at home?” You responded and shifted your gaze so that you were looking at him. He peered at you and smiled, before leaving a kiss on your forehead and going to quickly change into some loungewear. 
   About 5 minutes later, he strode back into the living are where you’d made yourself comfortable on one of the couches. He smiled and threw himself next to you with a grunt, and grabbed you close to him as you cuddled up together. 
-
     Jaehyun had asked you to accompany him to the airport and see him off, but as you woke up on the day, you dreaded having to see him off. He texted you, and you responded that you’d be there. After all, you were in love with the guy. 
   You rolled out of bed and took a super fast shower, then got ready and jumped in the car. His flight was in just a few hours, but you wanted to make sure that he was there on time. As you pulled up to his apartment and went up to his door, you tried to hold back your emotions. He seemed intent on going back the past few days, and even mentioned that he was excited to leave and see his family and work again. Little did you know he was just trying to convince himself that it was the right choice. 
 You couldn’t help but think that some of the moments you shared weren’t as special for him than they were for you as you took the elevator up to his apartment. Before you even had the chance to knock on the door, he swung it open and you were greeted with a red eyed, puffy faced Jaehyun. You instantly could tell he had been crying, and you stepped in, pulling him into the biggest hug, which he returned with such ferocity it almost knocked you over. He let out a muffled sob and your heart broke into a million pieces. You gently pried him off of you, and calmed him long enough for him to tell you what was wrong but in between his breathy crying and staggered breathing, you could barely understand, so you just held him as he let it out. 
   The one part of his ramblings that you did catch however made your heart skip a beat. 
   “A-and you...these months-” A few sniffles, “So good, -nd I don't wanna go-” A soft ragged breath, “b-cause you are my everything…” He said, and then stopped. You felt his heartbeat quicken at what he just confessed, and you tried to steel your emotions 
   “Jae, I know. We grew close and these past few months have been fun, but that’s it. You have a career and your whole life in Korea, and you deserve to go and live it out and follow your dreams, like you told me you always wanted to do.” You said, tears pricking your own eyes. He suddenly shifted off of you and gave you an incredulous look. 
   “Just fun? Just fun?” He said, his voice rising a little. “So all this time, this was just a fling for you. You made me fall in love with you and now you’re telling me it was just fun? You’re saying that if I asked you to come with me you’d say no and tell me this is what? One sided? That you don't feel like this is the worst mistake?” He said, and you folded your arms over your chest. There was no way that you’d stand in the way of his career, no matter how much of a bad guy it would make you. He would get over it soon, and continue and be a world famous singer… Right? 
  You thought that is what he wanted, but as his words wash over you and you understand the depth of the relationship between the two of you. Something clicks in your mind but you don’t speak. You just stand there and look  down at the floor. 
   His breath catches in his throat and he mutters a quiet but forceful, “get out.” And you follow suit. Sighing and holding back tears of your own, you step out of his apartment and head out to the car, knowing that at some point he’d have to come down since you were his ride to the airport. As awkward as that one hour car ride was going to be, you didn’t have much of a choice, as before everything went down, he made sure that you were the only one to see him off. 
   A couple of minutes later, a puffy faced angry Jaehyun appeared at your passenger side door, and he knocked aggressively on the window, jutting his thumb to the back of the car. 
   “Open the trunk.” He mouthed, and the already thick tension only grew as you nervously opened the trunk and waited for him to climb in the car. He opened the door, and then slammed it with such force you thought the door was going to snap off. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes as you drove, and when you pulled into the freeway, you decided to speak. 
   “Listen-” You started, and he interrupted you with a raised hand. You heard him take a loud breath, and then he began to speak. 
   “I know you’re driving and your attention has to be on the road but please, hear me out.” He pleaded with you, and the desperate tone in his voice sent the waterworks your way again. 
“It's true. Without you, I can’t live. I can’t eat or sleep, or breathe without thinking about you. Everything that you did to me was so ethereal. You changed my life so much in these three months. I can’t begin to describe how hard it is for me to go. Honestly, when my company suggested that I come to the states for the music study I was skeptical because I already know music theory and production. But it was the best decision of my life. And now you’re sitting here telling me that this isn't-” He said and the tears began to spill on his face again. You gripped the steering wheel tighter and tried to keep your eyes focused on the road ahead, but the emotion in Jaehyun’s voice was getting to you as well, and a few rogue tears slid down your cheeks. 
   “I know you can’t just leave your life behind here, but I really really want you to. I want you to come to Korea and live with me, and we can be happy. I can introduce you to my family and the other members, and it’ll be so good. I can ask the company to find you an apartment and we can-” he continued, but you stopped him. 
   “Jaehyun. You and I both know that as soon as you get back, you’ll be so busy that we won’t have time to see each other. You’re about to have a major comeback and I don’t even know Korean so it’ll be hard for me to even assimilate there. I really really want to put my whole life on hold but… How can I?” You say, and the hurt is clearly evident on your face as the both of you have tears streaked faces. The rest of the ride is relatively quiet, but at some point, Jaehyun reaches over and rests his hand on your thigh as a signal for a truce. 
   He sniffles and leans his head back on the headrest, eyes squeezed shut as you pull into the airport parking lot. After finding a space, and getting his luggage out of the trunk, he takes your hand and you both go inside. He checks in, and you start to head over to the security checkpoint, which you were not allowed to pass.
   “Please, promise me that you’ll stay in touch and we won’t be like those couples who promise and then never do and they grow apart. I seriously cannot live without you.” he said, while pulling you to face him. A couple of people were starting to gather, and by the looks of it they recognized Jaehyun, so you sent him a sad smile and gave him a huge hug, never wanting to let go. The both of you pulled away, and he grudgingly went to the passport check. Just before he disappeared behind the security checkpoint, he turned and locked eyes with you, and even from this far you knew he was sending you a soft, sad smile. Not a “goodbye”, but rather a “see you soon.”
Four Months Later
   You rushed to shove on your shoes and grab all of your luggage as you heard your cousin impatiently honking outside of your apartment building. You had been planning to surprise Jaehyun for a few weeks, and asked them to come and take you to the airport. You left your apartment and quickly went over to a neighbor's where you asked them to take care of some plants and to pick up your mail each day. The middle aged woman agreed, and happily took your keys, wishing you a safe flight and travels. 
  You thanked her as you flew down the hallway, and heard her chuckling just before you rounded the corner and smashed the call button for the elevator. You knew it wouldn’t come any faster if you kept pressing the button, but you did it anyway. The nerves kicked in as you descended in the metal box, and ran out to your cousin’s car. They flung the door open for you, and you threw your bag into the backseat before hopping in. The drive was filled with some laughs and the memories from your last trip to the airport came suddenly flooding back. It had been only a few months ago that you had driven Jaehyun to the airport and had your first teary-eyed farewell. 
   Since then, you both called at least once a week, but texted every day. You slowly became more interested in NCT, his group, and even started talking to a few of his other English-speaking members, who all welcomed you with excited messages. You had been learning Korean with Mark and Johnny, to surprise Jaehyun, and not to toot your own horn, but you’d been getting pretty good! You could now communicate at it’s most basic sense of the word, and at least order food and ask for traveling directions. You smiled as you pulled up your conversation with Jaehyun, and read some of the new messages.. 
   Jaehyun : Babe! Have you had the chance to watch our m/v yet? It came out like a few hours ago! 
   Jaehyun : You really should watch it and let me know what you think. I wrote the lyrics with Johnny-hyung this time. I think you’d be proud.
   Jaehyun : Yo babyyyy….? 
   Jaehyun : Babe? Ah you’re probably busy. Ok call me when you watch it so i can see your reaction!
You smiled at all the messages, and sent him a quick “I’m at work, call you later, love you.” and then thought about how you’d explain away being inactive for your 13+ hour flight. You sighed, and locked your phone, then leaned your head back. 
   Your cousin pulled into the drop-off lane at the airport. You looked at them with a grateful smile, and gave them an awkward hug over the center console which they returned. As soon as you grabbed all of your belongings and double checked for your wallet and passport, you waved them goodbye, and they sped off. You turned and walked into the airport, and after a tiring 45 minute ordeal through check-ins and security, you finally made it to your gate. You took out your phone while you waited for the flight to board, and saw a few messages from Mark who was also in on the surprise. He said that him and Johnny managed to get you a company car to pick you up from the airport, but that you’d have to find your own housing. 
   “Shouldn’t be too hard…” You mumbled, and replied to him before searching for hotels in the Seoul area. There were a few upscale locations, but you decided to also check Airbnb for any long-term residence options. You came upon a sweet little apartment near Itaewon , which was about a 45 minute drive from the SM campus. You searched for anything cheaper or closer, but after not finding anything, you quickly booked the location for a 2 week period. You smiled happily, having one less thing to worry about on your flight, and then heard the “All-Passengers Now Boarding” message, so you grabbed all of your things again, and huddled in the line. You had been lucky to find a good deal on a seat in the economy class, so you took your seat near the front of the plane, having a rather great view out the window. You smiled and relaxed as a kind looking lady sat down next to you, and you fell into a comfortable conversation as the rest of the passengers were seated and the plane took off. She told you a few stories about how her family was all in Korea but she visited the US to see her daughter who just had a baby. You smiled at her story, and she patted your hand. 
   “You go to Korea? What do you have in Korea?” She asked tentatively, and you told her your love story. You left out the part about him being a singer, thinking she might not believe you, and she smiled warmly, and recounted a few stories from her youth about her and her now late husband. You smiled, and upon checking your phone, saw that you’d managed to pass a few hours of your time swapping stories. A steward announced that passengers could now use their in-flight wifi, and you quickly took out your phone to see a few missed calls from your cousin (who probably just wanted an update) and a few tests from none other than Jaehyun himself. 
   Jaehyun : Baby, I have the night off… are you still at work? We should call. 
   Jaehyun :  Please? I really want to see your pretty face, I miss you.
   Jaehyun :  Ahhh, come on, I know you’re not busy because we usually call at this time… 
You stifled a laugh, and rolled your eyes softly at his antics. He was always begging to see you, and now you didn’t know how to remedy the situation and not expose your location. You got an idea and ran to the lavatory, which was thankfully unlocked. After fishing your headphones from your pocket, you plugged them in and asked if he was free at the moment, and before you were even able to respond he was already video calling you. You laughed and hit the accept button, and smiled at the camera. 
   “Hi! Oh- I missed your face so much, you beautiful work of art…” His voice rang into your headphones, and you saw his eyebrows furrow as he drew the phone close to his face to see the screen. 
   “Where are you?” He said, brows still furrowed, and you smiled, trying to look as genuine as you could, 
   “I’m in the restroom at this little place, I wanted to take some time out and just treat myself, you know?” You said, and technically you were vague enough to not lie, and somehow he didn't press for any more information. 
   “Oh, baby that's good that you get to do something nice for yourself… Have you watched the m/v yet?” He asked, impatiently and you already knew he just wanted you to stroke his already inflated ego. You laughed, and he smiled widely, and shook your head. 
   “ I haven't but I swear I will as soon as I get home tonight? I know it’ll be late but you have to promise to wait for me!” You say, and he tiredly laughs. 
   “I promise to wait for your call tonight babe, I don’t think I’ll even sleep peacefully until I hear your opinion on the m/v.” He said, and you laughed. After a few more minutes of talking, you told him that there were others waiting to use the restroom, and after an insurmountable nu be of "I love you"s and "Yes, I'll call you later"s, you hung up just before you exited the lavatory. You spent the rest of the time napping and sometimes chatting with the lady seated next to you, who had a multitude of interesting things to tell you. You’d lost track of time, and only noticed when the stewards and stewardesses came by with lunch trays. 
  After that, you fell into a deep sleep, and only woke when the “Please Fasten your seatbelts for landing” messages were being played on the intercom. You hastily buckled it, and the nervousness started to kick in once again. The lady next to you must have sensed it because she reached over and gave your hand a sympathetic squeeze, and reassured you that “He will be excited to see you. I promise”. 
  After the landing and a rough battle through customs, you finally made it to the gates where onlookers waited for their friends and family to walk out. You spotted a man holding a paper with your name on it, and went over, greeting him formally and returning his polite smile. He took your things and led you to a nondescript car, where he put your things in the trunk and held the back door open for you to get in. Once settled, he asked if you would give him an address, or if he should take you to the SM building. 
   “SM building, please.” You say, hoping that you were using the correct verbage and honorifics. The driver’s eyebrows raised, and he made eye contact with you in the mirror. In a soft broken English he complimented your Korean, and said he was surprised that you knew pronunciation so well. You smiled and thanked him, and explained that some friends had helped you study it before coming. He nods, and the rest of the ride is spent in a comfortable silence.
    An hour and a half-ish later, the car pulled into the parking lot of the SM building, and you almost burst out of the car in excitement. You’d been texting with Mark and Johnny in a private group chat, and they said Jaehyun had fallen asleep waiting for you to call him somewhere in a waiting room. You were shown into a side entrance, so as to avoid any prying eyes, and you quickly met up with the aforementioned boys, who greeted you with wide smiles and big hugs. They led you around the building and showed you a few of the locations that you’d seen before in videos and on call with Jaehyun. 
  You smiled fondly as you followed them around and they led you into a small room with couches lining the sides, and a few tables thrown in the middle. And you saw him. Him. 
  He was slouched against one of the couches, chin to shoulder and out cold. An innocent look was on his face as he slept and as you admired him, Johnny and Mark said they'd wait for you guys downstairs and left. 
  You gently set down your small bag on a table and silently made your way over to your sleeping boy. Smiling, you sat on his lap, legs straddling his thighs and he stirred from his sleep with a sharp intake of breath. His eyes fluttered open and he made eye contact with you, staring into your eyes with a confused glare. You put your hands on his shoulders, and then moved them up to his face, cupping his cheeks as you sent him a smile. 
  "Y/n…? I-Is this… Am I still dreaming?" He whispered and you laughed, answering, 
  "No, you're not dreaming. I'm here… kiss me." You said, and he immediately obliged, closing the distance between your lips. His hands finally made their way around your waist, and he pulled you closer to his chest, and smiled into the kiss. 
  "What? How? How did you even find me?" He said, breathlessly and you explained to him the whole story from beginning to end. He listened with a marveling look on his face, and let his head drop as he smiled shyly. 
  "Well I am so glad you're here. I missed you so much, you've got no idea. Korea isn't half as fun without you." He said, and you sat and caught up for a few minutes, before you remembered the other two who were waiting. 
  "Johnny and Mark are waiting for us! They said we should go out to get some late-night food." You quickly said and climbed off of Jaehyun's lap as he stood and stretched. He gathered his things and you yours and just before you two set out the door, he took your hand in his and placed a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 
 "Have I ever told you how much I love you, Y/n?" 
 "Everyday."
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benscursedkid · 3 years
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*title from the song of the same name by mansionair and a continuation of this post* 
synopsis: rebekah and ben’s relationship progression throughout their second year at hogwarts. (plus some bonus of other characters too.)
pairing: ben copper x mc; ben copper x rebekah roberts
genre: angst, fluff, etc. 
words: 5.160
a/n: is it 5am rn for me? yes it is. did i skip the ice vault scene because i’m tired and lazy? you bet. also, i know they’re in second year and thus supposed to be around twelve years old but i’m pretty sure i forgot what being twleve felt like (must be all the repressed embarrassment yikes) so i apologize if this seems slightly too heavy or at times mature for that. but then again, this is hphm so y’know... trauma <3 also be warned, i’m tired so this is unedited as of rn. i’ll come back and edit it maybe tomorrow or the next day but if you’re reading this then i have not done so yet. pls, enjoy anyway!
She woke up that morning with a spring in her step. Her bags had been packed for weeks, her robes already ironed and an outfit laid out for the morning. She discarded it, choosing instead to pull another one out of her trunk and switching their spots. The young girl ran all over the house, picking up anything that had been thoughtlessly left out and almost forgot to take time to sit and eat breakfast. 
It was a thing her parents still tried to insist on. Eating meals as a family despite the fact that they are indefinitely one member short. Their motivation usually wore off by lunch only to be half-heartedly reignited by dinner. 
The effort is just what she’d wanted except…Rebekah hates it, truth be told. They do nothing more than inquire about Rowan and Ben, occasionally touching on the weather before falling silent again. And that’s how they remain for the rest of the night. Disappearing into their room seems to be more habit than pastime for them now and Rebekah is left to her own devices. They don’t watch her father’s favorite movies, they don’t make any plans for the next day, they don’t laugh over old jokes. Sometimes, when the moon is high and her spirits are low, she wonders why they can’t try like she does. To fix their family. Her brother may no longer be around, but surely she is enough to keep them going, right? Surely, knowing that they still have their daughter left is enough...isn’t it? 
Her thoughts often took those turns at home, but today she hadn’t let them get to her. Her parents could be heard getting ready for the day in the solace of their quiet room while Rebekah finished brushing her teeth and gathering some last minute research she had done the night before. Mysteries might be fun, but it’s about time this one got solved. 
They were even quieter on the way to King’s Cross than usual—even by their new standards—but Rebekah didn’t care this time. Her mind was too busy running in different directions to spare a moment to anything else. 
“You be careful, ‘Bek,” Her mother whispers presently into her hair, her thin arms wrapped around her small body in the tightest hug she’s received since she came home two months ago. Her voice is uneven and Rebekah can feel the quivering of her lips against her dark hair. “Stay in one piece, alright?”
“I will.” She promises swiftly, the words leaving her mouth without much thought. 
Her father tries for a smile that even he has to know doesn’t land. “Say hi to your friends for us, yeah? Let them take care of you.”
His voice was gentle, his tone and intentions soft and well-meaning, but Rebekah can’t help but bite her lips to keep back a frown. It is glaringly something he would never have said before and for whatever reason, she doesn’t like the fact that he says it now. 
Her father’s hand reaches the back of her head, his palm cradling her cheek affectionately as she pulls away from her mother. He seems about to hug her himself, but in a move strangely unlike him, he doesn’t. Somehow she knew it wouldn’t come. Somehow her heart breaks just a little more anyway. 
The train whistles and she notices that her trolley has already been taken to the luggage compartments. Sound and perception come back to her all at once as the atmosphere seems to crack. Students mill about them in tandem and the heavy scent of the train’s engine prickles at her delicate nose. Her mother and father find their place again, stuck together like glue, and take a small step back. When they look at her their eyes are tired. 
“Have fun, Rebekah.” Her father offers as her mother struggles to keep up her already thin façade of a collected person. 
She nods at them in farewell, her body already turning towards the train. “I will.” She says again. 
She hated the summer holidays this year, yet turning her back on her parents is still a stinging betrayal that quells the breath in her throat. She makes a point to not look behind her lest she fall apart all together. 
Fortunately, there are still some reunions to be had today, the first of which she walks into before even stepping onto the Hogwarts Express. With her arms held tightly around herself and her eyes cast downward, Rebekah doesn’t notice it when a familiar head of blonde hair sticks itself out the window as she approaches the steps. 
“Rebekah!” Cheers a soft voice, one that is usually not heard over the ring of the crowd. 
On instinct, her eyes follow the sound, landing on the sight of Ben Copper with his neck stuck all the way out a compartment window. Unwittingly, all her claustrophobia melts off of her and a giggle even falls like a trickle from her lips. Her hand comes up to cover it but she doesn’t miss the way Ben’s cheeks flush deep with pink. 
The sight only strengthens her smile. 
“Ben,” Rebekah greets with a grin, moving out the way of the steps to instead walk over to stand directly in front of his window. Her hand still hesitates between covering her mouth and balling into a fist at her side. She swallows the uncertainty down. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing? Doesn’t your neck hurt?”
He blushes again and Rebekah gets the overwhelming urge to ruffle his already messy hair which clearly still shines with product. “No! Well, not before you mentioned it…” 
She chuckles. “Looking for the best view?”
“Not anymore.”
Emotions grips her throat and her smile hesitates between freezing and growing even larger. For his part, Ben simply rubs at the back of his neck shyly, unable to meet her eye now. 
His mouth opens to respond when she doesn’t immediately say anything back, only to be interrupted before he starts by a much higher, much more enthusiastic voice. 
“Rebekah? Is that you?” Rowan gasps, pushing Ben slightly to now fit her head through the window. The blonde grimaces next to her, his nose scrunching up in discomfort and the scene is so comical Rebekah has to laugh. It comes off her chest like a heavy secret she hadn’t known she’d been carrying. 
“You’re here!” Her friend gushes, her lips splitting with a grin so wide Rebekah fears it may cut her face in half. ‘What are you doing standing out there? Come in, the train will depart soon!”
Rebekah doesn’t mention how absurd she looks with her head popping out of a window like a cartoon character. She merely shakes her head and does as she’s instructed. 
It doesn’t take long to find her way to the compartment, even with the onslaught of students now hurrying to board the train. The whistle sounds off again somewhere, but the happy chatter of children and teens mute the sound of it. She’s barely taken a single step into the compartment when Rowan launches herself at her for a hug. Rebekah returns it gently, ignoring the way the rim of the other girl’s glasses press intently into the skin by her ear. 
Rowan releases her quickly, her arm looping through hers and already beginning to speak a mile a minute about something or other Rebekah doesn’t quite manage to catch yet. Perhaps she would, if her eyes hadn’t caught on Ben’s. His own are a warm and welcoming gold with the rays of fading summer sunshine catching on them through the window screen. They cast little squares across his face that Rebekah finds difficult not to count before—
Welcome back, he mouths to her silently, not daring to interrupt Rowan now that she’s started on another one of her tangents. 
Rebekah grins, a slight blush of her own rising to her cheeks. She nods to signal her acknowledgement before turning back to Rowan, barely catching the end of her complaint about the library near her house. 
It’s good to be back. 
~✾~
I haven’t seen him since we stepped off the Hogwarts Express, Penny will tell her later but only after Ben has already been gone. Why hadn’t she noticed his absence sooner? I’m a little worried, Rebekah. Especially after what happened last year with the cursed ice. 
She tried to bring it to McGonagall’s or Angelica’s attention earlier, but Dumbledore called for everyone to go immediately to their dorms after dinner. No exceptions. 
They were ushered to their rooms like cattle, their prefects doing their best to calmly give them orders. Chester, for his part, seemed to pay her some extra attention. In hindsight, Rebekah knows that he has good reason to be suspicious, but at the time his scrutiny only served to further agitate her. 
How could he have disappeared already? Why did no one see him leave? 
Why didn’t she? 
And why is it always those closest to her? 
~✾~
Her sleep that night was fitful and her appearance the next morning was even worse. And just her luck, her least favorite person caught her at the door to Transfiguration the next time she tried to see McGonagall. 
“You look worried, Roberts.” 
Rebekah sighs, her usually level temper flaring at the mere sight of her troublesome classmate. “What do you want, Merula?”
The Slytherin smirks, looking nonchalantly at the black polish chipping from her fingernails. “I was just wondering if you’d had any luck finding that cowardly mudblood friend of yours.”
Her eyes snap sharply over to Merula’s. Green meets magenta in a swirl of anger and pride, each of them holding onto both. When Rebekah speaks, her voice is low and measured. “Do you know what happened to Ben?”
“I know more than you,” The other girl mocks but suddenly she doesn’t seem so teasing anymore. She takes a taunting step closer and despite the daylight peeking through the windows, her eyes darken with mirth. “I know that sometimes even when people are missing, they’re exactly where they’re supposed to be.” 
The words are more than just a punch to the gut. It’s bad enough to be reminded of Jacob’s absence, but implying that the world is better for it is…
Merula takes this moment of hesitation to drive her point home. “There are things happening at this school you could never begin to understand, Roberts,” Jacob did. “Trying to uncover those things is going to get you killed.” Like Jacob?
“No,” Rebekah shakes her head, her hands balling into fists she just barely manages to keep at her sides. “Trying to get in my way is only going to end up hurting you, Merula.”
Merula glowers at her, her lips twisting up into a snarl. “You’ll learn everything soon enough.”
“If you’re not going to help me find Ben,” Rebekah snaps, her glare sharper than she thinks it's ever been before. “Then just stay away from me, Merula.”
“As you wish, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Rebekah finally pushes past her, but her words linger in her head far into the rest of the day. 
~✾~
“Please, Madam Pomfrey,” Rebekah pleads, pouring all of her worry and concern into the five syllables. “Someone should be with him!”
But the healer just arches an unconvinced eyebrow, refusing to move from her place blocking her entrance into the hospital wing. She crosses her arms at Rebekah’s comment. “And you’ve come to the conclusion that a skilled healer is not enough company, Miss Roberts?”
Rebekah makes a noise of frustration that sounds strangled in her throat. “He needs a friend, Madam!” The woman does not budge and Rebekah runs a fraught hand through her short black hair. She’d wrestled her Ravenclaw tie loose earlier and discarded her robes at her dorm the second she’d gotten back from the fifth corridor, figuring that it was only a matter of time until Ben got seen here. 
“I won’t bother him. I won’t bother you. I won’t bother anyone, I promise.” It’s been days since she’s heard from him, she was starting to worry... “Please,” She says eventually, the weight of all her troubles finally managing to drag her down. “I just want to see him.” 
Pomfrey studies her closely for a long time before something close to recognition flashes across her face. 
She steps aside. 
~✾~
He doesn’t wake up for another four days. By then the weekend has come along and not so easily, might she add. She’d spent much of her time after and between classes sitting in the hospital by Ben’s bedside. In the back of her mind, she knew that she should have been more worried about the notes and the quills and the clues, but every time she thought about that doubt crept into her mind. 
Surely, her luck couldn’t be that bad? How likely was it really that one of her very few friends was conspiring against her? And that it could be Ben? Of all people? 
It wasn’t just unlikely as far as Rebekah was concerned. It was impossible. 
Ben would never do that to her. 
Rowan and Penny had been worried about how thin she was stretching herself. Between classes and clues and uncomfortable hospital wing chairs. After her honesty in his class, Flitwick had given her a small extension on the last homework assignment, given how often—and how commonly known—she visits Ben when she can. Even Chester had taken to checking in on her, not that she was the one who needed it. 
And yet in spite of all this, she was not with him when he woke up. 
She’d been resting in her dorm with Rowan after being kicked out by Pomfrey the day before. The matron claimed her worried frowns and her frequency in the wing were beginning to scare some of the other students and instructed her to take the weekend away from the smell of pumpkin juice and disinfectant. She hadn’t wanted to leave, but she had been able to get Pomfrey to promise to alert her if anything changed. 
The rest of her and Rowan’s roommates had quickly vacated the premises when it became clear that Rebekah was not going to leave. She thinks they’re afraid of her, like many other people she’s noticed. Thinks that she’s mad. Like your brother, some of them say. You’re cursed. 
But Rowan stayed. For a while she tried to distract her with art or wizard’s chess, but eventually they settled on a book. Rowan sat on her bed, the book spread out on her lap as she read it to Rebekah out loud while she sat on her own bed upside down in boredom. Rowan had the better voice for it, they decided, and a longer attention span. 
It was like this that they found her. The poor frazzled student Pomfrey had apparently sent to fetch her. It’s Ben, they exclaimed and she swears the whole common room fell quiet behind the half-opened door. He’s awake. And he’s asking for you. 
Before she knew it, her legs were moving. She wasn’t really thinking—they knew where to go—as they ran her down the corridors. The pale morning sun blinked at her as she passed each window. Until the door came into view and she only just had enough wits about her to slow down, steady her now labored breaths before entering the wing.  
She pushed the door open and Madam Pomfrey was on her immediately. “That was quick.” She says matter-of-factly, her hands folding in front of her the way they commonly do, her shoulders straight and expression relaxed. 
Rebekah ignores her. “Is he alright?”
“I believe so,” She answers quickly without preamble and she heaves a sigh of relief. “His memory is erratic, but I have seen patients in far worse condition in my time as Matron of Hogwarts.”
“You said he asked to see me?”
“Many times, along with other strange requests and proclamations. I believe he’s experiencing some state of delirium.” 
“Can I talk to him?” She asks, ignoring the way her heart flips painfully in her chest at her previous words. She doesn’t want to think about how disoriented he must have been. She should have been there.
“Mister Copper has been through quite an ordeal and still remains in a very delicate state—” She begins but one look at Rebekah’s face tells her that little she can say will matter. She sighs in something that sounds like sympathy before gesturing over to his bed. “Make it fast.”
She smiles briefly in lieu of thanks before she’s moving again towards the familiar spot by his bedside. Pomfrey hadn’t even moved her chair. 
Despite his clearly groggy state, Ben smiles weakly as she approaches, recognizing her immediately. His voice is meek and scratchy when he says, “Hi, ‘Bekah…” 
Her lips pull up slightly at the unfamiliar nickname and she allows herself to fall habitually into the chair beside him. She reaches out to take his hand, but thinks better of it and wrings them together nervously underneath his bed instead. “How are you feeling?”
As she says this, Ben frowns, his whole body slumping further into his bed at the reminder of his condition. Dark spots can be seen beneath his eyes despite being unconscious for the past four days and his skin is still pasty and almost as pale as hers. Not for the first time, Rebekah wonders just what happened in the near week and a half it took to find him in the corridor. 
“Cold. Tired. Sore,” He laments, but his mouth manages to pick up just slightly anyway. “Not that different from usual to be honest.” 
Rebekah wants to laugh at his attempt at a joke—no matter how self-deprecating, acknowledging the effort it must have taken, but she doesn’t quite manage it. Instead, her brows knit together even more in worry for his health and well-being. 
“Are you comfortable?” She finds herself saying, her eyes flicking to his rather flat looking pillow and the cold bars of his bed. “Is there anything I can do?”
Ben smiles and this time it takes. He still looks tired and he still looks ragged, but not so lonely anymore. The sight reminds her of what a twelve year-old boy should look like as his round cheeks wrinkle with the change of expression. 
“Seeing your face is enough,” He admits a bit sheepishly, fiddling with his fingers purposefully, ducking his head down to look at them. “Madam Pomfrey is very helpful, but she doesn’t have the most comforting bedside manner.” 
This gets a chuckle out of her at the truth of it and Ben’s smile returns victoriously. 
Now it is Rebekah’s turn to look away and she nervously crosses her ankles before uncrossing them again. She shifts only subtly in her seat. “She said you asked to see me?”
His face twists in confusion. His head tilts in tired frustration. “Did I? I feel like I’m losing it…” 
A small part of her is left disappointed with his lack of remembrance, but it is far overshadowed by the full force of her concern coming back at his clearly patchy memory. Just what did that cursed ice do? 
Her hand twitches again to reach out to him but this time she listens to it. Her hand wraps cautiously around his wrist in what she hopes is a consoling manner. “What were you doing in that corridor, Ben? How did you get trapped in the ice?”
The Gryffindor shakes his head in anguish. “I don’t remember. I can hardly remember anything at all. Madam Pomfrey thinks it has something to do with the ice.” 
Emotion lodges itself in her throat and for a moment she can’t speak. Ben looks away from her, seemingly in shame, but shame for what she isn’t sure. And she hates that she questions it. This isn’t fair! Why must these things always happen to her? 
Paranoia pricks at her conscience and climbs up her spine. She has no choice but to press further. “I found a letter to you in the artefact room,” She explains and Ben still refuses to look at her directly. She isn’t sure whether to take that as a bad sign. “It led me to another one that told you to go to that corridor…” 
“I’m sorry, Rebekah,” Ben whispers as though he doesn’t have the strength for anything else. “I just don’t remember…” 
Something pulls at her chest. “Ben—”
“That’s enough for today, Miss Roberts,” Pomfrey announces, having snuck up behind Rebekah while she’d been distracted. “Mister Copper needs his rest.” 
“But—”
“It’s okay,” Ben grabs her hand, his own not much bigger but it still offers her the reassurement that is intended. “I’m kind of tired, anyway.” 
Rebekah frowns half in suspicion and half in confusion. “You just woke up.” 
“I’ll be fine.” 
Pomfrey clears her throat and Rebekah sighs, reluctantly releasing her hold on Ben’s hand and offering her friend in question a wave as she disappears back behind the privacy curtain. 
She doesn’t see him for the rest of the day, but her mind stays stuck on the hospital wing and the missing week and a half of Ben’s memory of how he got there. 
~✾~
In hindsight, meeting Bill had been, thankfully, one of the only good things to come out of that term. At the time, she couldn’t have ever guessed the way that things would soon be playing out, but one thing that was a constant in her life when nothing else was is Bill Weasley. 
Her surrogate big brother—and arguably the best one she ever had—went on to get her through the worst of times. Even when he couldn’t be there, he always lent her his support. Rebekah doesn’t know where she’d be without him. 
And to think she almost met him for the first time with a book about Patricia Rakepick. She knows now that hindsight isn’t always funny. 
~✾~
Speaking of older brothers, she never quite expected to find comfort in dry as wood Chester Davies of all people but—What are prefects for?
Rebekah’s grin comes surprisingly easy, all traces of her nightmare forgotten. “Badgering everyone about house points?”
“Hey!”
~✾~
Rebekah groans as her face plants into her textbook, her head feeling like it holds nothing but bricks. Certainly no useful curse-breaking information. 
A light, breathy chuckle is heard from beside her and if she weren’t stressed out of her mind, it might have brought a smile to her face. Her shoulder is cautiously poked as her study companion regards her fondly. 
“You’re not tapping out already, are you?”
She lifts her head just high enough off the potions book to glare at him through the dark strands of her hair now stuck to her face. “Remind me again why we didn’t invite Penny to teach us this instead?”
He hums as though in contemplation, but the smile threatening to lift his lips tells a different story. “Because I need the extra study time and you were just bored enough to join me?”
It’s mostly a lie. She knows that she needed to study some possible potions her and Bill could bring into the vaults and ever since he got out of the hospital wing, she hasn’t been able to see Ben too often lately...but yes, he also did really need the study time. Unfortunately, the hospital wing isn’t the most convenient place to do homework and even though he did every assignment his roommates brought back to him, Ben had fallen a bit behind in Snape’s class. 
Though, really, she doesn’t think anyone but Penny is exactly ahead. 
Still, she frowns as Ben reaches to brush some of the hair out of her face. The tips of his fingers graze over her skin and he clears his throat before looking away. 
Rebekah does the same, casting her eyes around the room. Truthfully, there’s not much to look at. It’s the same potions classroom it's always been: dark, dreary, and slightly dingy. Though, she must admit that the faint green light coming from the dungeon corridor does cast a rather lovely reflection across his face. 
“Well now I’m even more bored.” 
“I’m sorry.”
Instantly, her brows draw together in slight disappointment and surprise at the sudden sad apology. When she looks back over at him he’s already turned subtly away from her, but his eyes are somewhere else. Somewhere distant and far away. 
“Ben, are you sure you want to deal with the cursed ice again?” 
He actually barks out a laugh, but’s hollow and strained. “No, I am absolutely unsure,” He huffs, chewing anxiously at his lower lip. “This potion makes me feel better about my likely injuries, but I’ll learn a new charm to try and avoid injuries and trouble altogether—” 
Without thinking, Rebekah allows her hand to fold over top of his and Ben stares at it for a second, his cheeks going a little pink again before continuing. 
“—s-sorry, Rebekah,” He stutters out for a moment and she finds it more endearing than she thinks it really is. “I didn’t mean to worry you.” 
“Somehow, I find that strangely hard to believe.” 
They laugh together effortlessly, most of the weight from before gone. As always, the expression transforms his face into something more youthful and unburdened—the way she thinks it was supposed to be. The sound of their laughter mixing together like paint sounds like music to her tired ears. 
“But seriously though,” Ben adds as it winds down, all thoughts of potions and textbooks forgotten. “I’m still going to do it.”
She can’t help but ask. “Why?”
And when he answers her, he says it simply. As simply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 
“Because you need me to.” 
~✾~
She fell asleep on the train. 
Ravenclaw had a huge celebration the night before for winning the house cup. Rebekah hadn’t the energy to join in on the festivities—the cursed ice had really done a number on her, not to mention that bloody knight—but it was rather amusing to watch Chester run around trying to put out the fires of adrenaline. With all of that joy and creativity in one room, she’s sure he was up all night. 
Her and Rowan had their own secret celebration too. They congratulated themselves—and Bill, Penny, and Ben internally—for making it past the ice vault… and then spent the rest of the night theorizing on what the next one could possibly be. They certainly weren’t left empty-handed after all. 
But her brother’s voice haunted her well into dawn. She saw his face every time she closed her eyes. And she missed him. 
She missed him so much it hurt. 
“Rebekah,” A whisper. A tap to her shoulder. When did she fall asleep? “Rebek—”
“Don’t just poke her like that!” Mocks another voice, one equally as familiar yet in her groggy state she is unable to place it. 
“Well, the train has stopped, Rowan—”
“But you’re not gonna wake anyone up poking them like porcelain china, Ben—”
“Please tell me the two of you didn’t argue the whole time I was out?” Rebekah croaks out, her throat tight from recent disuse, attempting to blink herself fully awake. 
Rowan huffs slightly but doesn’t disagree while Ben remains still and silent and Rebekah suddenly realizes she’d fallen asleep on his shoulder. She sits up to give him his shoulder back and he offers her an understanding smile. 
“I’ll have you know I was perfectly civil—”
“—You threw your muggle studies book at me—”
“—well it’s the one I like the least, so—” 
Rebekah whines petulantly and throws them both a pleading look, her lower lip pulled over her other one in a pout. “C’mon, guys, summer holiday just started. Can’t this wait?”
Their frowns remain on their faces but they don’t object and Rebekah supposes she’ll have to start taking that as a win. 
“Thank you.” 
It doesn’t take long to gather their things and leave the train. Given that it has been stopped for the past few minutes, most students have already left. Only the slow stragglers remain. Ben and Rowan take up a spot on either side of her as they exit their compartment and descend the few short stairs to the King’s Cross platform. 
Immediately, the warm rush of summer air hits Rebekah as her foot touches the ground. With most of the families gone or leaving, it’s not as noisy as it was the last time she was here, but her ears do manage to catch on a voice calling out to them from her left. 
Rowan laughs from beside her and waves at her parents and cousins, her grip on her trunk nearly going white with how hard she squeezes it in excitement. She turns to give the shorter girl a quick hug and promises to write to her frequently, stopping only to throw Ben a hesitant nod of farewell before she’s skipping off to join her family. 
Rebekah takes a look around but does not immediately spot her parents. Or Ben’s. 
His throat clears and she turns back to him. His blue t-shirt ripples a little in the soft breeze, his hair waving with it, and his eyes bore into hers with intent. His brown eyes shine with something that feels like a goodbye and a hello all in one. 
She smiles. 
He opens his mouth but his attention catches on something behind her and she knows what he sees as an expression of fondness and recognition crosses over his features. His hand comes up into a small wave before looking back to her and sending the universal wait gesture. 
“Thank you,” Rebekah speaks before he can and catches him off-guard. “For all your help this year. I...I’m sorry about your memory. I’m sorry you couldn’t get it back.” 
Ben seems to shiver at the reminder before collecting himself. He shrugs in a more nonchalant way than she’s almost ever seen him. “Don’t be. It wasn’t your fault. Besides, considering where I ended up...I’m not sure I’d want to remember it anyway.”
She tries for a smile at the silver lining, no matter how bleak it is, but it feels cheap so she bites it back instead. 
“I’ll write you everyday,” Ben promises quickly, nodding almost confidently. “That way I wo—”
“Don’t do that,” She shakes her head, her smile half of a tease. “You won’t have too much to talk about if you write to me every day. Your letters will get short. Every weekend should suffice.” 
Ben nods at the idea. “Okay. Every weekend.” 
A beat passes between them. Neither of them speak. 
“I’ll see you later, Ben?” She asks somewhat hopefully and strangely somewhat unsure. Where did her uncertainty come from? 
But he only nods, a smile finally breaking through. 
“See you later, Rebekah.” 
18 notes · View notes
stevesharrlngtons · 4 years
Text
pin prick and needle sticks.
roman godfrey x reader
summary: your solution for roman’s feeding problem is met with some resistance.
word count: 3.9k
a/n: ya im having so much fun writing again so hopefully there will be more! i hope you enjoy and if you do, pls give me some feedback (-: 
also this is a repost bc this wasn’t showing up in tags 
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When you strode into Dr. Pryce’s office, he didn’t try to hide his surprise at your uncharacteristic appearance.
“Ms. (Y/L/N)! This is surely an unexpected visit.” Pryce pushed out of his desk chair to meet you in the middle of the large glass room.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” You say politely as Johann takes the coat that’s folded over your arm.
“No, not presently. I was just about to wrap up some paperwork and go to lunch.”
“Well, I won’t keep you long. I am hoping my question has a simple enough answer.” You say as you take a seat in one of the visitors chairs across from his desk.
“So, you are looking for my expertise on a matter?” Pryce asks, taking his own seat now.
“Yes, and maybe a small favor depending on your answer.” You smile, trying to seem as sweet as possible.
You knew Johann was asked for wild favors and cover ups where the Godfrey family was concerned constantly, almost on the daily. You wanted him to be receptive to your idea and not shoot you down before he heard your pitch.
Pryce was tolerant of your presence and occasionally even fond of your acquaintance when Roman needed him for something or another. You were very bright and amiable company.
He sighs deeply, already seeming resistant, “Is this a Roman related favor?”
“Yes, but not in the way you think. It’s more like a gift I need your help in giving.”
Johann looked extremely perplexed as he placed his laced fingers on his desktop, “Now I am very intrigued. Please, proceed,”
“You are aware that Roman has been having some trouble sourcing food. Right?” You try to say everything as delicately as possible, even though you knew Pryce knew about Roman’s situation in full. Probably even more than you knew.
“Yes, I am. Unfortunately Olivia forbids me to speak with him on the matter before she does, and she refuses to do so until Roman goes to her for help.”
“Withholding access to food, sounds like an award winning mother if you ask me.”
Johann chuckles, “Yes, Olivia is nothing but selfless.”
“Selfless and maternal.”
Pryce laughs again before he asks you what is the nature of your visit in relation to Roman and his upirism.
“Like all things in Roman’s life that are broken, I have found the solution to fix them. In this case, I have decided that I will take my blood and give it to him. As much as I can give, so he will never have to worry about where to feed again.” You said this with a self assured expression, elated that you had come up with a way to help your love.
The true extent of Roman’s feeding problem had become apparent one night while you were making love.
Roman sat on his knees, your legs around his waist while he pressed his hips deliciously into yours. He had set a gentle rhythm of thrusts, ones that were illicting your mewls and calls of his name from your lips. While you were reveling in your pleasure, Roman was trembling. Desire filming his eyes as they transfixed on your jugular. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the faint thrum in your neck, your voice becoming hazy and distant as his mouth watered at the sight of your craned neck below him. It wasn’t until you grabbed his cheeks that he snapped from his thirsty stupor.
Roman tumbled off your naked form to the floor of the bedroom unceremoniously, skirting away from you until his back reached the wall, the farthest wall from the bed. You had sat up, not bothering to cover yourself as you stared at your crumpled boyfriend, who shook and stammered under his breath.
“I can’t, OK? We can’t! Not until I feed again. I don’t think I can control it- I can’t control myself.”
“Baby, it’s going to be fine. I know you would never hurt me,” You push away the remains of crumpled sheets and begin toward him, but Roman flinches aggressively.
“I can’t help it, no matter how much I don’t want too, I will. I would kill you just for a taste and I would hate myself forever.”
You wanted to offer yourself up on a silver platter then and there. Ask him to drink from you because even if he doubted his control, you knew he would stop feeding before you were in any semblance of danger. You just wanted to make him feel better, in any way you could. But, as Roman wove his hands into his hair and tugged ruthlessly at the roots, it was clear that this wasn’t going to become an argument, or even a conversation. Roman left the bedroom soon after, muttering something about the refrigerator and leeches, while you watched him leave with an ache in your chest.
You had been trying to figure out the best possible solution to Roman’s problem since. After contemplating many different avenues, you concluded that you weren’t a bank robber (even if it was just a blood bank) and hiring someone from Craigslist seemed too risky (and too weird). So, you had fallen back on your original idea from that night: Roman would drink from you.
“To be clear, you want to extract your own blood and stockpile it for Roman?”
“Exactly. I just need to know how to do it and how much I can give per week without dying of iron deficiency or something.” You nonchalantly reply.
“This is very noble of you to do, (Y/N).”
You wave a dismissive hand at his compliment, “I just want to help him in the best way I can. It’s what you do for the people you love.”
Pryce stares at you for a moment, and begins to wonder how Roman attracted you in the first place? He was sure it was the young man’s killer good looks and the charm he held with the opposite sex that first caught your attention, but you were a smart girl. You wouldn’t fall for him simply because he was a blueprint for a Greek statue or threw a few saccharine words your way. He wondered if Roman was warm and adoring? Sweet and loving and soft when he was only in your company? From what Pryce had seen first hand, Roman was kind and gentle when you were around, but only ever to you. The second Roman laid his eyes back on Pryce or anyone else for that matter, he was back to an angry frothing terror to anyone in his path.
“When giving blood for say, The Red Cross, they take about a liter of your blood which is around 15 fluid ounce. You shouldn’t give more than that a mouth, but I could give you a few supplements that could help replenish your red blood cells at a slightly quicker rate so you would be able to give blood once a week.
“You would likely need to take breaks, possibly a month on and a month off? To make sure that giving blood this frequently wouldn’t take any serious toll, or have any significant side effects on the body.” Pryce explains.
“And these supplements won’t do anything weird to me if I take them?” You trusted Pryce, but only minutely. While you felt cordial with him, you still knew to be weary of his experiments.
“No, of course not. They are all over the counter supplements and vitamins that you can buy on your own accord. I would just tell you how, when and the quantity to take.”    
You sighed at his answer and laughed lightly, “So it’s all good? We could do it?”
“I don’t see why not. I could send a tech to your home to administer the IV, and possibly if this method of feeding works out for Roman long term, you could learn to insert it yourself.”
“Am I going to have like, crazy puncture marks? Am I gonna look like a junkie?” You asked, the vanity of this whole thing only now coming to your mind.
“Unfortunately, there will be noticeable marks and possible bruises from repeated insertions. I could work on something to heal your puncture marks, as I said, if this becomes a main source of Roman’s feeding.”
You nod, mulling over the information for a moment.
“When could we start?”
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Telling Roman about the whole thing never even crossed your mind. To you, this was a gift that you were going to give to him, and you loved the element of surprise. It was strange, sure, but to you, this idea of yours felt totally romantic. Some women gave their boyfriends watches, or flat screen TV’s, or let them put in their ass on their birthdays; but for your boyfriend? The man who had every material object he desired and every sexual need quenched? Your blood was a perfect way to show him you cared.
You didn’t want Roman to get just one bag for the first time you presented him with the blood, so you waited four long weeks to create your mini arsenal for him. You just took to wearing long sleeves around the house and silk robes right before bed to hide the little marks on your arms. Roman, still not at his most observant from his lack of feedings, didn’t even bat an eye at your clothing choices.
After your final session with one of Pryce’s tech’s in your home, you felt giddy. You had been keeping the blood in the outside fridge until you had the stockpile you desired, knowing Roman never checked it’s contents. Tonight was the night you were finally going to give them to him.
After Pryce’s man left, you placed your newest bag in the refrigerator and went back inside to change into something far more alluring than the sweatpants you adorned currently. This was going to be a special night for your man and you wanted to pull out all the stops. You had already directed Conway and Anna to make a four course feast for the two of you before you would bring out Roman’s surprise.
After changing into the tightly fitted black dress you had picked out a few weeks ago, along with Roman’s favorite silk lingerie set, you went back downstairs to continue to set the scene for Roman when he returned from work. You scattered candles around the room and played an old jazz record to soothe any worry or anxiety from your boyfriend once he entered your shared home. You wanted everything to be perfect, he deserved it.
As you finished and Anna and Conway were wrapping up the meal, you heard someone placing a key in the front door. You turned to see Roman’s tall silhouette through the frosted glass and you couldn’t keep the smile off your lips.
When he walked through the door, he looked exhausted. His eyes were haloed in shadows and he was gaunt, his pale skin pasty and dull. He looked about ready to collapse.
Until he saw you.
“Welcome home.” You said, a wide grin on your features.
“What’s all this?” Roman asked as you met him by the door.
“I know how stressed you’ve been and I wanted to set up a nice evening for the two of us.” You replied as you pushed his coat off his shoulders and held out for Conway to take.
Roman glanced over your shoulder to see the extent of the fuss you had made for him and his shoulders visibly relaxed, “You’re amazing.”
You took both his hands and started to walk back toward the table, “That I am, and I have a little surprise for you after dinner.”
Roman tugs you to him suddenly, causing you to stumble a bit in your heels, but that only accomplished to bring you flush to him.
“Is my surprise under this sexy little get up of yours?” Roman’s eyes twinkle with lust as he moves his hands down to grip your ass.
You hum with delight, “I guess you have two surprises coming, then.”
You lean up to place a lingering kiss to his lips and Roman groans a curse as you step away from his hold.
“But for now, let’s eat and unwind. How was your day?” You ask, pulling out Roman’s chair for him.
“Better now.” He grinned, one that was without smare or ulterior motive. Just a pure smile radiating happiness.
After you chatted about your days and Roman having bitched about work to his heart’s content, you both finished the delicious dinner that was prepared for you. You had moved across the table to sit on his lap while you both shared a chocolate mousse, the gentle ping of the silver spoon against the serving glass lulling you both into calm relaxation and sloth as you ate the rich dessert.
Roman’s temple was pressed against your exposed cleavage, practically purring with the bliss he felt.
“Thank you for tonight, baby. I needed it.” He sighed, turning his head just enough to let you kiss his lips.
“Of course, my love.” You responded, stroking your hand through his hair, “I’d pluck the stars from the sky if it’d make you happy.”
“Hey,” Roman smiles, poking your side, “That’s my line.”
You giggle as Roman prodes you, “Well, while I’m taking your lines, let me take another. I got you something and I need to go and get it.”
“You know I don’t need anything.” Roman says, squeezing you once more before you got off his lap.
“This present is something you need, trust me.” You say over your shoulder as you exit the kitchen and enter the garage to get the gift box you had prepared.
Was this all very dramatic? Yes. Over the top? Of course.
But you loved pampering Roman, so you threw all cares to the wind.
As you entered the kitchen with the rectangular black gift box held together with a silk ribbon, Roman looked at you confused.
“Jeez, what is that? Is my mother’s head in there?” He asked as he watched you place the box on the dining table.
“I wish.” You chuckled, dusting your hands off on your dress as you looked into Roman’s puzzled expression, “Open it.”
Unable to even guess what could be in the box, Roman stood up and walked toward you and where it lay.
“It’s not gonna be anything that’s gonna pop out at me, right?”
“Oh my God, stop being such a bitch and open it already!” You laugh, nudging him with your shoulder as you quaked with excitement.
Roman finally pulled on the black ribbon and slowly untied it, causing the sides of the box to fall apart and reveal it’s contents.
“Surprise!” You said, jumping slightly in place, barely able to keep your excitement to yourself as Roman took in the gift.
He just looked at the blood blankly, all placed in a row before him. His mouth hung open, but he said nothing.
“How did you get this?”
“Well, that’s the extra special part. It’s mine,” You gestured to the blood, “It’s all from me.”
Roman looked up at you, and the appreciation you’d thought you’d see written all over his face wasn’t there. Instead his face was red with anger.
“How could you do this? How could you be so reckless!” Roman raged.
Your heart sank with embarrassment and grief.
“I thought you’d like it.”  
“Like it? Baby, why would I like you taking your blood to give to me? Do you know how dangerous this is? Do you!” You cowered under his voice, lip quivering.
“I thought you would be happy, I thought I was helping. Now you don’t have to worry about feeding or hurting anyone. I can just give blood every now and then and give it to you.” You responded, trying desperately to mend the evening.
“How did you even do this? How did you figure this out?” Roman picked up one of the bags and furiously tossed it back down.
You furrowed your brows and took a step toward your boyfriend, “OK, so don’t get mad- well, don’t get more mad I guess… but I asked Pryce-”
“You asked Pryce?” Roman shrieked, his eyes bulging from his head.
“Yes! But it wasn’t his idea, it was mine. The whole thing was my idea and all he did was help me and make sure I was safe.” You said quickly as Roman paced the length of the table in front of you.
“I’m going to kill him. I’m going to kill that stupid little prick and rip his cock off and shove it down his throat!” Roman bellowed.
“Ro, it’s not his fault,”
“It is! He let you do this! Indulged you! He fucking put a needle in your arm and touched you!” It was then that Roman finally zeroed in on the small circular band aid on the inner crook of your elbow and his face passed its red hue into bright crimson.
“Pryce never touched me! He had a lab tech help me.”
“Then I’m killing the tech, then Pryce, then everyone in that fucking nut house of a lab who knew this was happening and didn’t tell me!”
“Stop!” You shouted over Roman’s angry rant, “Enough! This wasn’t anyone’s fault but my own, apparently. I fucked up, I can see that now. But I honestly and truly thought you would love this. That you could be satiated from my blood and never worry about where the next source would come from. But hey? Guess I was wrong.”
Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you turned on your heel to leave.
“(Y/N),” Roman called after you but you stuck up your hand to silence him.
“No, I just want to go to sleep. I’ll see you in bed.” And you walked up the stairs to leave your boyfriend stewing in his own ire.
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Stripped from your dress and lingerie, you lay under the thick covers of the bed and mindlessly watch some old re-run of a sitcom. It had been well over an hour since you had left Roman in the kitchen and each second he stayed away was another second of heartbreak and humiliation. You still weren’t sure why Roman had blown up the way he did… sure it was risky, but nothing that you couldn’t handle. You were a grown fucking woman who knew her own limits. You had picked up the supplements Pryce had prescribed you and you had been feeling perfectly fine. If you ever started to feel any effects, you knew you would head straight to Pryce or your primary doctor.
As another commercial break washed over the screen, Roman opened the door to the bedroom and peeked his head inside.
“You OK?”
“No.”
Roman sighed as he came fully into the room and shut the door behind himself, leaning against it.
“Listen, I’m sorry about the scene down there…”
“I’m sorry, too. I should have asked you first if you would have been OK with me doing this for you.” You slumped your shoulder into the mattress.
Roman just watched you.
“I just… Roman, I really thought you would like it! I thought you might even be grateful. I really meant what I said downstairs, I would give you a star if that would make you happy, I really would. And I thought helping solve your feeding problem would make you happy, and it didn’t, so I’m sorry.”
Still Roman stayed silent, just studying you, wrapped in a coil of thick blankets. He soon walked toward the bed and sat on the corner, his back facing you. He hunched over and placed his head in his hands, gently shook it side to side.
“I was never really even that mad at you, baby. Just at Pryce, I guess. And scared…”
“Scared about what?”
“Seriously? You’re going to ask that?” Roman glowered.
You kicked your foot out to the edge he was sitting on to jostle him, “Don’t be an asshole.”
He grumbled something under his breath that you sure was unkind before he continued.
“I was obviously fucking scared because this could go wrong, alright? You could get sick or stop clotting or something! I don’t know. I don’t have to be rational when it comes to your safety and health.”
You rolled your eyes at that comment, “I thought I was being rational coming up with this idea, Roman. In my head, this would solve everything. No more leeches or starving or worrying that you’ll kill someone when it gets too much!”
Roman looked back at you, his eyes intense as your cheeks heated with your outburst.
“I just-! Fuck,” He turned back around, bouncing his knee, “I don’t want you to do this for me and something bad happening. That’s it, that’s all.”
You frown and whisper his name, just loud enough for him to hear.
“And because you went to Pryce and not me… and that no one at my own fucking company told me about this. Fucking traitors.”
You shuffled your way out from the blankets and crawled your way toward Roman, placing a gentle hand to his shoulder to gage his reaction before you moved to hug him.
“I’m not going to get hurt, I promise. Pryce told me where to buy some vitamins to keep me healthy and they have been working. I won’t continue if I start to feel sick. And if by some chance I do, you will be the first person I tell.”
Roman says nothing at first, but you knew he heard you. You placed a few simple kisses to his shoulder and wound your arms tighter around his waist, snuggling to him.
“I want to know the second you start to feel anything less than fantastic, OK? If you feel faint or nauseous or even if you have a fucking headache, alright? I’m not fucking around here.” He replied firmly.
A smile spread across your face and you pressed it to his skin, “Of course, baby. No more secrets ever again.”
“Yeah, yeah…” Roman trailed off with a sigh, but leaning into your touch.
“You know,” You started, moving around his neck to see his face, “I thought the idea of you drinking my blood was very romantic. Maybe even erotic.”
Roman moved to give you a quizzical look and you only grinned wider.
“Something about giving myself to you fully, running through your veins, letting you have all of me, you don’t think that’s romantic?”
Roman’s lips began to pull into his signature smirk, “I think I was little more taken by your erotic comment.”
You giggled and playfully bit his shoulder, “I don’t know, I think about watching you drink it… about you covered in it and knowing it’s from me,”
Roman was quick to grab you and manhandle you around him and into his lap.
“Yeah?” He asked, smirk persistent as his hands explored your body.
“Yeah… knowing you drink my blood, my cum, that you’re the only one who knows my taste… it got me all hot, baby.”
Roman groaned deep in his chest as he dug his fingers into your hips, twitching his hips up against you and making your eyes flutter.
“My baby, my girl,” He hummed, leaning forward to ghost his lips over your own, “You drive me absolutely wild.”
“All better now?”
Roman just chuckles, grinding you down onto him.
“And you’ll drink the blood?”
“Yeah, fine,” And he finally kisses you.
You knew that he was playing it off now like it was nothing, but the honesty you had shown him, and the utter devotion you had just pledged, meant something to him. It meant everything to him.
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i really hope you enjoyed!!!! if you do, i’d love to hear your thoughts (:
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