#(also seriously I wrote this during the night over a couple hours

[draconicsilence]

-looks both ways- time for random thoughts about a lizard

there is no reason for this beyond me wanting to talk about Grimaror by mentioning anything I can think of/remember for him that is just general stuff, not getting into character relationships here, just....assorted things that I thought of as I wrote down my thoughts for....a couple hours...

(if this doesn’t make it clear that my process of making headcanons and ideas is based purely on vibes and what my brain thinks of in the moment, idk what does)

- Whatever the hell he is in regards to dragon species....It ain’t a true Fell Dragon in regards to my own personal stuff. [Context: I have natural occurring dragons that look like Fells in stuff I do with my friends. Grim is....not one of these. Or an artificial one for that matter, at least in the sense of ‘looks like a natural Fell despite not being one’] Then what is he? Uhhh, the current guess is a sort of dragon chimera creature; the base is of the same creature as the leviathan he sees in his dreams, but he is so different from that creature as well, to the point that it is clear he is not quite the same dragon type as that one now. He is still called a Fell Dragon, he doesn’t know what else he could be, that’s just what people have called his dragon form for many years. (Examples of oddities: The six feathered wings, the legs too long for him.....the fact he has six eyes.)

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

- What name came first, Grima or Grimroar? The answer is....Grima, but Grimroar was the name he chose for himself, though among people he shortens it to Grim. He knows it doesn’t hide his ties that well, but....it’s more normal at least, at least a tiny bit. Once he lost his memory, he doesn’t remember to shorten it......and yet it gets shortened to Grim again anyways.

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

- -holds up his version from the dark timeline- I wish to bring up a Fact about both versions of Grim; both break off pieces of their dragon form despite the pain it causes, but it’s different parts for different reasons.

The one of the normal timeline constantly keeps his bottom pair of horns; he has two pairs, the smaller top pair he leaves alone; worn completely down to mere nubs. At one point he had them grown properly, but at some point he can’t remember, he broke them off and started to keep them mere nubs. He doesn’t remember his exact reasons for doing this, but he has a feeling it ties back to his usual want to make himself look as different as possible to depictions of Grima; he can’t change much about himself, but the bottom horns being gone is a good step, right? With encouragement and reassurance that no matter how he looks, he is still himself and not what people assume he is, he might let them grow back in....

The one of the timeline the second gen units came from? He bears all four of his horns, but something he lacks is the many crystals that naturally occur on him that aid him in storing and controlling electricity; he removed all of them to try to limit his power, and kept them from regrowing. This instead made his natural control of electricity, as well as his thunder magic, much harder to control and yet also much harder to use for extended periods unless he is among a storm to recharge himself. This....still didn’t prevent the destruction caused by his own dragon form, and after the rampage that started the whole mess, he tries to encourage the crystals to finally regrow, to try to regain control of his abilities.

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

- Grim isn’t sure how he lost his memory; he remembers that he is a dragon, but not any of his past besides what his dreams wish to show him. And his dreams commonly frighten him by showing him memories of a terrifying leviathan wrapped in storms, or a intimidating man that looks like him but with visible traits of the leviathan as part of his form. Or of what he assumes is Grima, but only sometimes is the dragon actually violent; just as often he will see the dragon being curious or perfectly docile despite its frightening appearance.

(The answer for how he lost his memory: Grima got rid of his own memories on purpose, just so he could actually find it in himself to give humanity one final chance even after he nearly died; one final chance to give him reason to not raze the land to the ground with lightning and storms. What happened in Plegia a mere couple of decades before he truly awoke made him almost give up on his plan, but he still went through with it, erasing his memory and intending to rest a few more decades to make sure he was fully healed and the person he requested wake him would come to do so. The diverge point in the timelines ends up being....Well, the Grimleal trying to awaken him and restore his memories despite him not wanting to remember; in both timelines he escapes and ends up found taking a nap on the ground.

But in the main one, he still truly lacks his memories until they start coming back properly due to building stress and anxiety over his dragon form and what his resemblance to Grima must mean given that the children of the future came from that dark future to stop the Fell Dragon, which leads to a breaking point eventually, though one the Grima of the dark future tries to nudge towards occurring in such a way as to allow him to be saved; he knows it will happen one day, the important part is for it to happen where there is still a way to save Grim from himself.

In the timeline the second gens end up coming from? Um. Yeah Grima might have regained his memories a lot earlier. He still does his best to ignore the lingering malice and hate from them, and try to start anew, not bringing any of the thoughts and feelings from his past up; he manages for as long as he can....but eventually it is just too much, he finally loses control after something manages to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back, likely the brief control over him that Validar had, and even just this loss of control for a short while spells disaster. And then there are the Risen that came with that loss of control and.... He hides himself out of both shame for what he did and fear of killing anyone else he cares about. (Eventually, he starts to play the villian, if that is what will get someone to change the past so his past self never has to endure the same level of pain as him; and he aids in his own way, to try to make it better as well.)

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

- To end on a at least somewhat more positive note: Morgan is of the same timeline as the other second gens[I need to figure out how this works for a Manakete...], but....Grima raised her for the most part for reasons he is not keen on sharing. He never wanted her to help him in that dark future. She did that herself. He chose to do what he originally wanted to do to himself when it came time to send her along with the rest of the second gens; take away her memory....but keep the memories of just how loved she was by her parents, as few as she had of her mother, and as hard as it was to only leave the positive ones of him that didn’t reveal him as Grima. His coat was his final gift to his daughter, his final words to her a request for her to hold on tightly to her dragonstone and that they would meet again soon, he promises. Unspoken words that he is sorry that she has so few memories of her mother, and yet so many of a monster like him, but that he hopes that his past self will be much better than him, and that her and Tiki will finally get to bond.

That is one thing Grima reasons he did right, given how happy Morgan seems among the Shepherds, now with both parents and many new friends. His daughter is safe and happy, which is all he could of asked for.

- (Bonus: Yes, both versions are about as stable on their legs as you would expect for something whose legs are generally rather shaky. Both prefer swimming or flying over walking just because walking or running in dragon form tends to end with them tripping over at least once. He can manage to walk mostly fine if he focuses on it but.....even then, he tends to stumble a bit quite easily.)

#one: I still have no tag for Grimaror and no clue what to even tag his verse as #two: -looks at an au I'm paying attention to- I WANT TO STAY IN BLISSFUL IGNORANCE VIA THINKING ABOUT A LIZARD INSTEAD #side note but usually I only yap about this sort of thing with my close pals on Discord who also think up headcanons as they go #so pls be nice if you want to point out any errors or things I should think more on to rework them #I am but a dork who just likes messing around with ideas involving dragons too much.... #(also seriously I wrote this during the night over a couple hours #so might not make the most sense but I tried and honestly if nothing else #I can link this to my discord friends and go 'hey look!! I yapped about Grimaror!!' because at least one of them loves to see it)

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

Question: When did you 1st know that Meghan Markle and Harry Markle were FRAUDS?

Answer: I was listening to my American talk radio station when I heard a report about an American actress (I didn't recognize the name) dating Prince Harry. I literally laughed outloud. I vividly remember thinking, "oh please! Harry would never seriously date an American actress, this is just another fling. Later came that train wreck engagement interview. I was stunned by their obvious lies. I recall writing a comment on a YouTube channel that was created to question their interview. I wrote, "this is a fraud," and the content creator replied, "yes it is, we just don't know why."

Today I firmly believe that radio spot was PR, purchased by Meghan, to quickly make the relationship go public & appear to be serious.

I've gone through several theories over the past 5 years, and the only theory that makes sense is they agreed to become BUSINESS partners who live in an OPEN sexually fluid marriage.

When they lived in London, someone with inside information wrote, "they don't have a traditional marriage." After relocation to the US, that same contact answered me, "bc they don't have a traditional marriage... they live in separate wings." I just couldn't grasp the meaning of a "non-traditional" BRF marriage.

Watching their robotic performance at the UN settled it for me. It was identical to their robotic hand holding at the royal theatre.

Their robotic love is simply the fruit of a fraudulent marriage. They live separate lives in a scripted marriage.

Meghan's name is on a list of Hollywood celesbians, as a "serial beard" & escort for gay men. BTW Serena's name is on this same list. The popular American couples that Harry admires & desires to emulate are also in open marriages.

Obviously I don't know these people, but Harry and Meghan have NEVER once appeared to be in love with one another, not even during the wedding ceremony. Meghan doesn't seem to like Harry let alone love him. More often than not, she appears to be annoyed and resentful of Harry.

Meghan's first loves are Meghan, fame, and money. Harry loves drugs, sex and alcohol. Meghan will do absolutely anything for money, and she grew up fantasizing about becoming a Princess, like Harry's mother Diana.

Markus and the Mulroneys drilled a hole for Meghan into the locked door to elite associates and global fame. She peeked through the hole and laid a trap for Harry.

Markus ensured that she had access to Harry at the private Soho House Istanbul Grand Opening in April of 2015. Both were in Turkey, along with many of Harry’s Eton friends and UK celebrities. Meghan documented this life changing moment on her Instagram:

"48 Hours in Istanbul may be the best 48 hours of your life."

She pre-planned to reconnect with Harry during his 2 night visit to Toronto in the May of 2016 by taking her first PR trip in March to Rwanda for photographs and a (final) vacation with Cory in April.

Harry began to grow out a beard and Jason Knauf traveled to Toronto with Harry as his minder. Was Jason aware of Harry's whereabouts for both nights?

Whatever occurred during those 2 nights seems to be the beginning of their affair.

Meghan planned to travel all summer and fall. She broke up with Chef Cory, and fled Toronto perhaps giving Cory time and space to relocate. During that time, Meghan traveled internationally with friends (Greece, London, NYC) and then used Gina, Violet, Serena & Piers to help stage a public alibi for a FAKE start date to their affair: July 4th, 2016. (In August Meghan wrote on Cory's IG). On her birthday, August 4th, Meghan notified her followers that she planned to go off the grid and travel. The rest is history.

Meghan scripted everything about their "secret affair" for public consumption: the blue bracelets, H & M necklace, spooning bananas, the come & get it photos outside of Soho Farm House, Scooby-Doo online job w/US Weekly, tips to paparazzi Jesal Parshotam, and Meghan's endless merching.

After only 3.5 months, Meghan rushed to publicize and promote a long distance relationship still in the infancy stage. What was the rush? Was it to generate interest in her marketing campaign, or simply to deepen their trauma bond by feeding Harry's "security" paranoia?

Ready or not, over the next 12 months Harry grew a full beard and officially proposed marriage to Meghan.

Today we see Harry PERFORM by wearing a gold wedding band & by holding hands & arms for the cameras, but they even fail to coordinate their attire for important photographs (George's Christening), and they stumble over one another.

The cost of Meghan's clothing is obscene, while her appearance is consistently unseemly. Many husband's look better after marriage, Harry looks far worse. His appearance is sloppy and unkempt. Real husbands and wives care about the appearance of their spouse. All marriages have problems, but these 2 try too hard to sell a relationship that looks empty and devoid of anything substantial. It looks like a requirement in their contract. Real married couples don't need an American wedding band or hand holding to convince the public of their love. They can confidently sit next to one another without PDA because they aren't starving for affection, they don't have anything to prove to the public, and they aren't trying to draw attention to themselves.

We've never seen their children, ever. Just a few strange photos and video footage of a brief, scripted meeting in S Africa where each one holds a cute baby who didn't know any of the adults. Then we saw a sweet brown haired baby boy with a full diaper seated on Meghan's lap for the reading of a complex & inappropriate story. Nothing is ever simple or straightforward with the Harkle family. Everything is smoke & mirrors, an illusion, a lie, a contract with RULES.

They are partners in the business of making money off Harry’s family connections, and providing for the welfare of 2 children who are invisible to the world. Does Harry actually believe he's being guided by his dead mother? Does he think his mother's spirit is in Meghan?

I wish Harry would "come out of the closet," and be honest about himself. There is no reason to pretend. Unfortunately he seems invested in living out this lie with Meghan. Their plan was to "change the world" by working part-time for the BRF (whenever they felt like working), but with full-time benefits. They planned to launch a royal brand and an American royal court. They forgot to consider the worse case scenario: The Queen said "no."

Today, they are also partners in offense and in revenge. Harry's living out this contractual farce with a beard on his face and on his arm.

Q-Do you think Meghan and Harry are FRAUDS? If so, when did you recognize it and what do you think is at the root of their dishonesty?

#meghan markle #prince harry #breadcrumbs #bring on bower #bringonbower #megxit #revenge #frauds #spare us #like a spare

[ryehouses]

It might be too early to ask this, given the fic isn't finished being published yet, but I'd love to pick your brain about how it was for you to write such a long fic.

I also wrote one that grew a life of its own around the halfway mark lol. What have you learned from writing it? Anything that was super difficult at first but got easier over time? What advise would you give to Past You when they wrote the first sentence? Anything you'd do differently?

lol i apologize i opened the floodgates and all of these words fell out!

THIS IS A GREAT ASK, SO THANK YOU.

in order:

i learned SO MUCH during this process (seriously, i am eagerly waiting for star wars trivia night to come back to our local bar, because i'm pretty sure that i'd win this year). odd bits of star wars lore! a whole bunch about food! what the inside of my eyeballs look like 8 or 9 hours into an intensive revision session! but from a technical standpoint, i think what i learned that will help me the most going forward in writing projects is the benefit of outlining a project and referencing the outline as i go through the project. this probably won't come as a surprise, but projects often mutate and grow on me in the middle -- or the beginning -- or the second middle -- or the very end when i should be done but definitely have to pursue another errant thought -- and if i don't have the major plot points already charted out, i can pretty easily lose the thread of the plot and therefore the motivation to keep going. with ast, the initial outline has been a godsend, even though the plot has grown and shifted as the fic has gone on. the major points i wanted to hit were already written down, so it was a lot easier to maintain focus on this project than on some others.

boba's voice was actually super fucking difficult for me to get and present consistently, especially early on in the fic when din is trying to get a read on him! i had a really hard time deciding how i wanted boba to sound and talk and think and act -- at the point of most of my worldbuilding and outlining, there really wasn't a ton of boba in canon and legends/the eu can be a mess and also wildly inconsistent, so i didn't have much to go on. i think i probably have five or six drafts of the first couple of chapters from boba's pov in the depths of my ast folder, trying to build a consistent tone. (also, not pursuing every scrap of detail that was interesting to me was very difficult, and is part of the reason why ast includes probably 50-75k alone in, like, descriptions of food or tusken culture or random asides about din's childhood with paz and annika.)

honestly, i would tell Past Me to unclench and try not to worry so much about making it perfect. a lot of delays in the revision process have come from Obsessively Reworking Things in order to make up for pouring so much of my internal mess (didn't know i had that much religious trauma, to be honest!) into the fic, and i probably didn't need to stress myself out that much.

oof okay. this is really tough. part of me says "yes, absolutely," because i feel like i really did go haring off down some avenues that i probably shouldn't have, for the sake of condensing the plot. i could and maybe should have pared down some of the tusken and ahra stuff to focus more tightly on the mandalore stuff. the other part of me says "no, absolutely not," because i have had an enormous amount of fun working on this project!! i have learned so much and really ignited my passion for learning things again -- i have actually read nonfiction books that aren't about fish this year, which is huge for me -- and i've rekindled some of my affection for writing (which is good, considering... how much writing has gone into this thing) and also my love for star wars, which is HUGE. i was a very small fry in the star wars fandom circa 2008-2010, around the time that the clone wars was coming out and the fandom was... being itself... and i was really excited to come back in 2015, but around that time i felt like there wasn't much room in the fandom for me between the ship wars and the everything else, so i stayed out. it has been really, really nice to come back, lol, and to settle into a niche that so far has been pretty chill, so. no, i think, i'm good with the way things shook out for ast! not much i'd change at this point, except maybe somehow making ao3 count one word for every two?

#ast asks #sorry this is long lol #<3

[angieowlie]

Writing Progress #18 🪶

Sooo a couple weeks ago I finished writing Vol 1 draft 2!! 😆

AAAHH it was such a beautiful day. The night before whilst in the shower, I was struck with THE cutest way to end the book and gaaah I love it so much! 😆 I had a really good writing session that day as I finished the draft. A couple days before - as I was nearing the end - I got really emotional. I was crying a lot because I didn’t want it to end...I just felt so happy with this draft. Isn’t it weird how you want something to be over and done with, but once it’s happened you long for it to go on, instead of ending? T0T

Anyway, I had a celebratory quesadilla from Chipotle 😂 (Not dim sum this time, lol.)

Right now I’m taking a writing break~ I actually wrote a list of stuff I wanted to do during this time (including, but not limited to, rewatching Banana Fish 😂💔)

I haven’t done much writing since, just a drabble here and there. Strangely enough, I had thought this break would be a fun and relaxing time to rejuvenate and refill the creative well. But I’ve actually been stressed as HELL 😂🙂 Work has been super busy, there’s some family and friends stuff going on, the weather is HOT as shiz, and I realize now that perhaps my daily routine of writing in the morning before everything else has been what’s keeping me anchored all this time. Huh 🤔 Perhaps next time, for the next writing break, I should still do some light writing in the morning, something unrelated to the series, but make myself sit down and write nonetheless.

Anyway - I’ve done some fun things that weren’t on my list, too!

We went to watch Elemental, and lemme tell you, I cried so much, my eyes were so dry up till the next day. It was so good, my god 😭 The crap marketing did not do it justice at all!! I also couldn’t stop staring at Ember’s nose the whole time because it kept flickering because she’s made of fire 😂

(Side note: that attack on AO3 had scared the HELL outta me. But I’m glad things are okay now!! We will not be brought down so easily!!)

I’ve also been making space to prioritize reading. It’s been good. I’ve been finding a lot of titles I’ve never heard of before, sampling on Amazon first before borrowing from the lib. Something I’ve started doing is going to the lib on Saturday morning and just sitting there reading for like an hour or so. I find that blocking off a chunk of time and just, like, read uninterrupted REALLY helps to get yourself immersed into the story. So yeah, haha. I think that ’bout sums up what I’ve been up too.

Oh! One last thing. Today’s actually the 2nd anniversary of the day I started to seriously write this series 😸 (At this point I have so many anniversaries to celebrate each year, but whatever 😂 Romanticize your milestones, yo!)

#writing #progress 🦉 #writer life

[mintchochipkookie]

T for the 5 favorite songs ask :)

I scrolled through my Main, Bollywood, ABBA, Kpop, and BTS playlists for this and turns out I don’t have a whole lotta ‘T’ songs???? Twild. I thought I’d give one from each playlist but oh well:

Turn Off The Lights by Panic! At The Disco

P!ATD has been one of my favourite bands for well over a decade and Vices and Virtues is one of my favourite albums of theirs too. It’s been a hot minute since I listened to it, but I know I love pretty much every song on here. Unfortunately. This song is a deleted bonus track on some ver specific versions of the album so it’s not on Spotify or anywhere online officially. 🙃 I could’ve gone for The Ballad of Mona Lisa or This Is Gospel, but for some reason, I just really like this song. It’s fun to sing too. Anyway brb, gonna go make a Panic! playlist real quick.

The Visitors by ABBA

I have a soft spot for ABBA, and they make me very nostalgic. Again, been a while since I had a proper ABBA jam sesh, but that’s a little bit intentional, precisely because they make me very nostalgic. I like a lot of the songs on this album too, but the title track just ✨hits different✨. It kinda sounds like…space? Idk how to explain it, it just slaps.

Tonight Is The Night by McFly

I had a phase for a few short months around 2014(ish) where I was really obsessed with them? Lol idk, anyway, they went on hiatus soon after, and then early last year I realised that they were back with a new album. I like a couple of the songs on it, this is one of them. It touches on the mental health struggles of Tom Fletcher and the band as a whole, and I’m pretty sure I heard that they went to group therapy during hiatus because they were having issues but didn’t want to disband and I truly just love that.

Tokyo Love Hotel by Rina Sawayama

Okay I don’t know if this is a favourite per se because I literally just heard this song today after a work friend recommended it, but listen, I wanted to have more than just BTS on here. It is a very pretty song tho, the music kinda sounds like stars? Sorry, I have a habit of describing sounds as abstract feelings I get when I look at celestial bodies and the elements.

Bonus Break: Tamma Tamma

I wanted a Hindi song on here okay 🙁 I just couldn’t find one I really liked that started with ‘T’. This song is a banger tho and is a reprise of a song from the 90s called “Tamma Tamma Loge” (which is also a very popular, iconic song in Bollywood pop culture). I also really like the movie it’s from - Badrinath Ki Dulhaniya.

And finally… (: (: (:

Three Songs by BTS (because I already kicked The Truth Untold, Tomorrow, and Jin’s Tonight off this list, I’m not removing more)

Tear

In honour of me getting the Love Yourself: Tear album an hour ago, it’s only right that I include this. I know it’s called “Outro: Tear” on this one, but it’s just “Tear” on Love Yourself: Answer, so it works shush. I already really liked this song, but then I found out that Yoongi wrote it at the time that they were seriously considering disbanding and he cried when he took it to them. Which means that the loss of love that the song talks about, refers to the members and that just…makes me shed a tear, if you will.

Telepathy

In honour of me getting the BE album yesterday, it’s only right that I include this. Also, in honour of them performing this at soundcheck last month, it’s only right that I include this. Also, in honour of me really fucking loving this song, it’s only right that I include this.

Trivia 轉 : Seesaw

Turns out I’m going with all Yoongi songs because apparently, Telepathy was also one of his rejected songs. Seesaw is one of my early BTS faves, and this song, Euphoria, and Blood Sweat & Tears are heavily responsible for turning me into the simp that I am today.

Give me a letter and I’ll tell you my 5 favourite songs starting with that letter

#ask #twinkle toph #music

[ocean-anchored]

Dear future self... June 27, 2023

I’ve been feeling really flat lately. I definitely think my hormones are in play with it because of how much I’ve fucked my poor body up but partly because I feel like I’m burning out.

I feel too tired to express & understand my feelings. I keep trying to numb it with watching shows & keeping myself occupied on other things too. My brain is too tired for this. I need to get back into going to bed at a reasonable time. I hate sleeping in like I have been & feeling like I’m not rested. It’s 10:30pm. I’m partially waiting if Zack will call me back, our phone calls have been so broken up today. I miss him. I miss the early weeks when we didn’t worry about work or other things. I know it was la la land, I was really just living in a fantasy world that felt so perfect. Continued.... July 6, 2023 Well, I definitely didn't finish writing that one. I looked back briefly to see and it's almost been a month since I wrote again. Man I'm not doing good at this. I've been feeling a bit of burn out. Oh look I wrote that above also. I'm getting tired and unmotivated working which sucks because right now is the best time to keep pressing in. While Zack is away most of the weeks usually, it gives me time to relax during the week evenings and work. I just haven't had as much motivation. I've more been starting later and then working for Ed into the evening rather than still getting up at a decide hour. I do miss my routine. I miss my night time routine, reading before bed, skin care and even doing a work out. I've been resorting to watching shows to numb my brain because I'm so tired, which I need to be gentle on myself because I have been doing a lot and working a lot so it's okay, I just miss the routine. I miss waking up at 6:30 and starting my day. I'm still waking up early if I spend the night at Zacks but the half hour commute definitely isn't enjoyable. Speaking of Zack. Things are still going really well. We've had a couple head butting's though. His job is taking a toll for sure and we're still really getting to know how each other works. I can't remember if I mentioned the night when I went over before he was going to the US for the week and that he was really worried about me talking and seeing other guys. It was a really good conversation, I felt it was pretty healthy, especially considering it could go completely opposite in another way if he wasn't who he was. He was just worried, I get it. I still just find it so odd that we're just so much the same. His same concerns are usually mine flipped. But we're so much so the same person with the same values and have had similar things happen to us in the past that we hold trust so high but that's what makes us work that much better. It was reassuring. Kind of honestly super nice that he doesn't talk to girls, extremely reassuring. Richardt wasn't like that and deep down I didnt fully trust him. But I really do trust Zack, everything he says he means and his actions follow and line up with it. It's wildly refreshing. We had a little tuffle last friday, Dustins birthday - side tangent but I went skydiving. Like who am I!!!! I can't believe I did that. The guy I went tandem to, Steve, was really great. He was so calm, seriously made me feel so safe and so comfortable. I really didn't worry too much, the excitement overtook. The plan ride up was great and I still felt pretty comfortable, it was when my legs were dangling out of the tiny plane that I realized what the hell was I doing, but only for a few seconds, when we jumped, it was more the thrill that just overtook my body and mind. It was honestly such a wild experience and so fun, I'm so blessed to have gone and it was such a sick experience with Dustin, I'm really glad to have spent that. What a memory to have and hopefully another (more) to come. We went for dinner where Zack and Dustin met finally. They seemed to have got along good which is nice. I was off pretty quick and jumped right into assumptions that Zack was lying, he had made a comment that he hadn't napped, which didn't make sense when he texted me at 2:30 saying he woke up from one & he was nervous for me to jump, so that set me off for a min. Then I just questioned if he had even gone for the haircut that he said he was going to when I called him after we were on our way back. My mind just spiraled down. When we got back to my place we were in the yard. He had made a comment that he was there to talk if I wanted if something was bothering me. I did mention that all the talk about my dad did damper my mood, then I said something like I was scared of getting hurt. That turned real quick. I wouldn't say it got ugly but we definitely weren't seeing eye to eye and I didn't like the way he was responding. It took a bit, I went to lay down and he had a smoke. When he came back in we were able to talk about it. It was better then, explaining our sides. I get how he got defensive. I 1005 understand, coming from his point he questioned why and how I could be the one being scared of being hurt while I was the one that had guy friends (only dustin is the one I hang out with 1:1) and that I have guys always sending me snaps etc. I totally get that. I really do get it, it really puts so much into perspective. We talked about how we handle ourselves, he took responsibility for how he reacted and that he should have heard me out. We were able to resolve and get over it quickly then, with a lot more understanding. Yesterday though we had another little one, different though. We talked it out today which was really really important, another learning curve and big moment for us in learning each other.

#ZP #dear future self #dearfutureself #personal #life update #monthly update #journaling

[sardonic-the-writer]

cc!DSMP x Reader

━"I Love You Too"

━Everyone

━Tw: A minor joke about suicide

━Notes: This is another long ass headcanon about who says 'I love you' first and how the other reacts. All cc! by the way

━Song: "Everybody Talks" By Neon Trees

Dream

-Chokes on water he's conveniently drinking

-Probably happens over a lame ass discord call at 3 am

-"W-what did you just say (Y/n)?"

-You're definitely going to have to repeat yourself a couple times before it sinks in

-Either Clay goes insane with happiness, or hangs up quickly after to scream about it to Geroge and Sapnap

-Simp

-Don't worry though. Right before you go to bed that night, a little notification pops up on your phone

-" Love you too (Y/n) :) "

George

-Two words: Blushy boi

-Stutters too. If he wasn't colorblind, he might be able to see how red his face is

-But you sure can

-This is probably a story you'll tell his friends and family to embarrass him; how he stopped functioning for a solid hour before saying it back

-"(Y/nnnn) stop it."

-"Sorry. You just look so cute when you blush."

Sapnap

-Sapnap's a lot more confident than most people

-Now that I think about it, he'd be the one to tell you first

-Probably says some overused pickup line, winks at you, and then drops the bomb

-It was because you bought him food

-It was one hundred percent because you got him food

-He's a loser, but he's your loser

-"Love you too, Snapchat."

-He throws a chicken nugget at you

Wilbur

-DEFINITELY happened while you were watching Hamilton together

-After hearing that you had never watched the musical masterpiece, the man dragged you over to his couch and refused to let you out of his grasp until you watched it

-It happened during the song "Burn"

-Wilbur was crying uncontrollably while you laughed at his disheveled state

-"You're such a baby Wil. I love you so much."

-He sobbed harder

-When the 3 hour Brodway performance had finished, you both cuddled for a while

-"I love you too dear. Always and forever."

-Wrote a song about it. What else?

Tommy

-Technically you didn't say it

-You wrote it down on a piece of paper on day and hid it under his pillows

-Because you're a coward that also happens to be in love

-Weeks later, after completing forgetting about your moment of madness, Tommy invited you over for some shenanigans

-It was a normal hang out in his kitchen with various types of coca-cola and mounds of junk food

-At one point, he excuses himself to make his bed because Motherinnit just wasn't dealing with his messy room for one more day

-What can I say. The guy barely makes his bed. Afterall, he does have that whole ✨gamer boy✨ aesthetic going on

-When he throws his pillow off his bed in a pretend temperature tantrum, Tommy notices a folded and aged slip of paper flutter to the floor

-He recognized your handwriting right away

-You don't know his initial reaction, but what happens next you'll never forget

-Tommy walked (note: ran) down the stairs and back into the kitchen with his jaw nearly on the floor

-"(Y/N), WHAT THE FUCK!"

-His thick accent was so thick from surprise, he made it sound like 'fook'

-While you were trying to figure out why he was acting like this all of a sudden, he rushes over to you like it was the Olympics

-Falls on his face in the process

-He manages to get there though and promptly pulls you into a deep kiss

-It tastes like sugary soda

-You melt from embarrassment on the spot. No one would be surprised if they had looked down in that moment and there was a puddle of (Y/n) soup on the floor

-The tips of Tommy's ears are flaming red though, so you can tell he feels the same way

-Motherinnit saw from the bottom of the stairs and is now mentally preparing for you to become her daughter-in-law as we speak

-"When's the wedding then you two?"

-"MUUUUUUM!"

Tubbo

-He thought you were a bee

-No, seriously

-In Minecraft, you just happen to wear a pixelated bee onesie as a signature skin

-To make a long story short, Tubbo turned a corner to quickly and mistook you for the animal

-"Aww, you're too cute! I just love you!"

-You screamed loudly and left the game out of surprise

-Thank XD he wasn't streaming

-Tubbo ends up calling you seconds later, worried that he might have scared of his best friend *cough cough* and crush *cough cough*

-Things end up alright in the end

-He even ends up asking you out

-"So, um, I know you like comedies, and I- um -saw a commercial for this really i-interesting movie the other day. I mean, you don't have to say yes or anythi-"

-"Are you trying to ask me out, Tubs?"

-"Ye- no? Maybe..."

-He now has something to look forward too at 6:45 tomorrow night

-Side note: I see you two being the impossibly sweet couple

Ranboo

-You were on death's doorstep when it happened

-Er, at least that's what it felt like

-You had come down with the flu, but multiplied by ten and then some

-It got to the point where you'd have vivid fever dreams before passing out nearly anywhere

-That's why Ranboo visited with some homemade Mac n cheese that Momboo had kindly made you

-Totally didn't force her son to go over and give it to you because she knew he liked you. Not at all

-When you saw him in your bedroom door frame, sunglasses and all, you thought he was an angel you had dreamed up

-Accidently confessed to him before he could even open his mouth

-"I think Im-" *Hiccup!* "-in love with my best friend Mr.Angel. Did you know that?"

-He dropped the Mac n cheese dish then and there

-You passed out immediately after a small giggle fit. Ranboo caught you before you could hit your head as a reflex

-Spent the rest of his visit in denial while taking care of you

-Went home soon after, forgetting about the shattered pyrex dish in your room

-Ends up coming to terms with what you said in the dead of night. Nearly six hours after you first said it

-He woke the neighbors with his exuberant shouts

-Conveniently, you're all better by next morning

-Also conveniently, you end up not remembering anything about his visit, only mentioning a beautiful angel to him the next day

-He ends up telling you because let's face it, after realizing you liked him back, he couldn't wait to make his move

-"What are those flowers for Ranboo?"

-"Y'know, a funny thing happened yesterday (Y/n)..."

Technoblade

-Ahh yes. The blood God

-Great with an axe, shit with women

-Not to say that girls don't fawn over him, he just can never talk to them like a normal person

-Sad thing was, he knew he liked you from the start

-Its why he could never talk to you for five seconds without making an excuse to leave

-Practiced telling you those three words in front of the mirror at one point

-Felt stupid at first, but it helped the tiniest bit

-He's still shit with woman though

-"You look nice today. Not that you don't look nice another day. I mean-"

-"Is that a new scarf (Y/n)?"

-"Wait, it's summer. And she doesn't even wear scarfs."

-I think he cried from frustration at one point

-"Should I call Tommy?"

-"What am I saying. Of course I shouldn't call Tommy."

-Calls Philza, but hangs up on the first ring

-Eventually, he manages to get those words out during a "friendly" little parkour challenge he set up for the both of you

-You die of shock

-No, really. Your Minecraft character falls off the map and straight up dies

-Techno just said it so suddenly, all rational thought jumped out your window and splattered on the concrete bellow

-What is it with gamers and being so surprised that people love them?

-You joke for weeks after that right after Techno worked up the courage to tell you, you committed suicide

-He always shuts up that story with a kiss

Philza

-You ain't no homewrecker

-You and your life long best friend, Kristen, were playfully flirting one day when Phil walked in

"-onestly Kris. Just drip Phil and come with me. Who needs men anyways? Lesbians are hot."

-Phil pulls the most shocked/surprised face you have ever see

-Kristen bursts out laughing while you turn beet red

-"It was a joke man, I swear!"

-He playfully punches you on the shoulder after realizing you were kidding

-"I love you (Y/n), but stop trying to steal my wife mate."

-You mumbled one more flustered apology while wishing the floor would swallow you whole

-Safe to say the married couple never let that one go

Quackity

-All best love story's start with an accident right?

-Well, yours just happened to be on a live stream

-Quackity had ended up inviting you over for a mini video series he had built up over the years

-It was called something like "(Y/N) MAKES ROBLOX UNBELIEVABLE FUNNY!!!" or something like that

-It was just millions of people watching you and him act like you're on crack for four hours

-Here's the twist though

-You're ready good at role-playing

-Like, insanely good

-It gets to the point where people can't tell if your being serious or joking half the time

-So it didn't help that your long-term crush ends up taking you to a game that centers around romantic role-play for the videos grand finale

-What is this game called, you might ask?

-Why Adopt Me of course!

-The both of you end up being a mother/son duo in the game

-The first half of the adventure is what was expected; just the two of you running around like five year olds after a tablespoon of straight sugar

-At one point though, Quackity fakes getting hurt on a playground and runs up to you

-He fake cries with his auto tune filter blasted to 100 until you "fix his boo boo"

-"Thank you so much mom! Love you!"

-(Oh XD, here comes the award winning role-playing voice)

-"Love you too."

-The discord call goes dead quiet as soon as you dare utter those words

-The viewers can only see Quackitys face, but boy is he red

-You panic

-"Alex? You okay man?!"

-The pure concern in your voice is enough to make him clear his throat and start speaking

-"Do you mean it?"

-His impossibly soft words puzzle you at first

-"Mean what Quack-meister?"

-"Y-you know. What you just said..."

-The it dawns on you

-Chat has been silent for a solid five minutes, which is a miracle in itself

-But then again, so is this whole ordeal

-"Um, on a scale of one to ten, how much would you freak out if I said yes?"

-Cue the rapid spanish

-And R.I.P Quackitys chair, because he beats the absolute mother fucking shit out of it while cheering wildly

-On a scale of one to ten, it was a twelve

-"I'm going to end the stream here chat! Me and (Y/n) have some very urgent things to discuss!!!"

-Neither of you can't stop smiling the rest of the day

Karl

-This absolute cinnamon roll of a human being told you first and you can not convince me otherwise

-It was because you surprise him with a visit

-That's not all however

-On the way to his house, you had passed a Bath and Body works

-Immediately, you put your car in park and rushed to the store

-Emerging just under an hour later, you hoped back in your car and speed towards Karl's place

-I mean, you just had to get him a few candles

-And by a few I mean a lot

-And by a lot I mean seventeen

-Karl flipped out when he saw all the paper bags in your hands

-After all, you did just spend over four hundred dollars on smelly wax for him

-"WHAT THE HONK (Y/N)!! THAT'S MORE THAN YOU MAKE IN A MONTH!"

-"Oh hush. Do you want these candles or not?"

-"..."

-Lets slip that he loves you right there on his doorstep

-Instead of freezing up, you chuckle and place a chaste kiss on the tip of his red nose

-"I've had my suspicions for a while now Mr. Jacobs. Now come help me unload this car full of candles."

-"O-okay!"

-He can't talk for the rest of the day without stuttering or having a major voice crack

-Soft bby boi

BBH

-You baked him muffins

-That's literally all it took

-As soon as you walked into his stream with the plate of goodies, he dropped everything

-"I love you so much (Y/n)!!"

-You had no hesitation in saying it back

-Cuddles afterwards :)

-A very short but sweet milestone that none of you will forget for a while

Nikki

-She was so worried

-You both had been dating for a year now

-(What can I say? You all wanted to take your relationship slow.)

-Tried doing it all romantic like. She plugged in an oil diffuser, dimmed the lights, and even wore your favorite sweater of hers

-Greeted you sweetly when you got home from work

-Was about to say it, but you beat her

-"(Y/nnnnnnn), I was gonna say it first!"

-*Pouty Nikki*

-You laugh and apologize with a kiss to the forehead

-"Sorry love. You just looked too cute."

-She immediately forgives you

Eret

-Alright, let's be real here

-They...

-They would not hesitate to let you know how loved you are

-Says "I love you" at least six times a day

-Not that you don't do the same

-A robber could waltz right into your apartment and perform an exorcism and the two of you wouldn't even notice

-That's how in love you are

-If I had to guess though, the very first time they told you was when they caught you wearing their bi cape and platform boots

-"God I love you so much (Y/n)."

-Their voice got 1,000 times deeper

-Nearly convinced you to never take the clothes off again

-But you had to shower

-Overall, you're just two simps living in the same house

This is probably my new favorite one now. I swear-

Somebody tell me why I can see Techno being a brony. I woke up at 2 am last night with that thought and now I'm scared of myself. Go figure.

Have a nice day everyone :)

2446 words

-WayToSarcastic

My Masterlist

#nikki #nikki x reader #dream #dream x reader #george #george x reader #sapnap #sapnap x reader #wilbur #wilbur x reader #tommy #tommy x reader #tubbo #tubbo x reader #ranboo #ranboo x reader #technoblade #technoblade x reader #quackity #quackity x reader #badboyhalo #badboyhalo x reader #eret #eret x reader #dsmp #dsmp x reader #(y/n) #fanfiction #so many tags #karl

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

Hi, I absolutely adore your writing and it’s quite inspiring and making my imagination go WEEWOO!

Could I request something for YJ With Dick? So like a headcanon or one shot (which ever you prefer queen) where the reader is quite reserved, snarky and can get angry real fast. They have feelings for Rob and they are especially snarky to him to hide their feelings, but they eventually start to open up more and during the events of episode 24 (you know, the one at haly’s circus), they open up to him and they confess? And he does the same?

Flower Language

Pairing: Dick Grayson as Robin x Reader

Warnings: Blood and injuries and plant death.

Word Count: 3.8k words

A/N: This is kind of my take on the Hanahaki disease, kind of. This was so much fun to write honestly, I didn't realize I like all this floral stuff so much. It also reminded me of another 'True Love's Kiss' trope I wrote for Dick Grayson as well. Also I changed the episode this was based on because I’ve already done something based on the episode with Haly’s circus @hanbedumbaf I really really really hope you enjoy it! Sorry it was so late, I finished it a month back but it was in my queue.

Adrenaline was a common feeling to you. A little too familiar. The life of a superhero puts you in peril more times than you would like but it was the only life you had known. You knew the familiar feeling of sweat forming on your skin and your heart pounding so loudly that you could hear it in every step you took.

However, when you heard the pounding, it was because there was a supervillain, usually hairy, chasing after you and determined to get your head on a stake.

Although, feeling your heart jump to your throat was becoming more familiar whenever you were around a certain someone. Robin annoyed you to no end, whenever he was around you couldn't help your face from growing warm and your lips from tingling to form a permanent smile on your face.

Having a crush was irritating, you couldn't think or even function without thinking of him. It was frankly humiliating, you were always so gung-ho about being bold and to the point and yet whenever you were around Boy Wonder, you couldn't help but bend your personality to something you felt like would appeal to him more.

Sometimes, you couldn't even stand yourself.

And so, as a pathetic act of rebellion, and maybe as a clear-cut sign that you had no idea how to handle emotions or anything similar to it, every time your heart got just a little soft, your tongue got a whole lot sharper. Probably not the best way to win a boy’s heart. But you weren't here for a romance story.

It was also a true sign that you had no idea how to flirt, thinking that borderline insulting witty banter was the way to go. Or perhaps it was a way of controlling your emotions, since being bitter and snarky was the thing that came easiest to you.

You seriously needed better tactics.

It was also your oblivious mistake thinking that Robin only saw what you wanted him to see. He was raised to be a detective, of course he was more observant than that. Papa (or let's be real, Alfred) didn't raise no fool.

You made the mistake of thinking Robin saw you as strong and independent and bold, just as the rest of them did. But he saw much more than that.

Robin was distressed by the number of crying faces around him, the kids were inconsolable which was understandable because of just how many things went wrong in the past couple of hours. To be quite frank, Robin was a couple seconds away from having a fit himself.

"Shh, little one," He heard distantly and his neck practically snapped. You were crouching in front of the few who were crying, with a small nurturing smile. It was the first time he had seen you out of uniform, usually referring to you as Antheia, named after the goddess of flowers, but this wasn't she.

"I know you're scared, my flowers, but I promise, we will find your parents." You soothed, gently wiping away their tears. They still looked up at you apprehensively and with uncertainty.

"I'll show you a magic trick." You began, grinning as the kids began to smile back at you. You pulled a seed out of your pocket and held it between closed hands, using a bit of your powers and felt it grow in your palms. When you revealed what you were holding, they collectively gasped.

A bud of a flower now rested in your hand. You smiled at their innocent eyes and held it to them, "Now I'm going to need your help for the next part. Everyone has to blow on the flower."

They nodded eagerly, crawling around you and on the count of three, everyone followed your instructions. And low and behold, the bud bloomed into a beautiful blossom right between your fingers.

One of the girls clamoured into your lap to hold the flower herself and you chuckled, wrapping your arms tightly around her, "You know what this flower means?"

They shook their heads, "It means faith, and hope. If you have faith and hope in us, then you'll get something beautiful in return."

For once, they look contemplatively and you chuckled, feeling pride at the fact that you managed to sow some wisdom in their minds. The girl that had been sitting in your lap turned in your grasp, with the flower in her hand and then reached up to tuck it behind your ear.

"For me?" She nodded happily and you smiled widely, kissing her cheek, "Thank you, petal."

Satisfied that you were able to calm them down, you gently placed the girl back on the floor before moving away from the group. Just as you were about to join the others, you ran into Robin. You didn't know he had just seen the whole thing.

Pulling the flower from behind your ear, you handed it to him, "You know in some cultures, this flower means to pick up the slack and stop looking like a confused chicken." You snapped.

Business as usual.

Robin looked back to the flower you had slipped into his hands, you had said it meant faith and hope, and you had given it to him. He looked back up to see you shuffling away from him quickly, a blush on your face. He smiled.

You were more nurturing and kinder than you let on, it was like it was programmed into your personality and yet you never showed it when you knew they were watching. That wasn't the only part of yourself that you were hesitant to show them.

And the more Robin observed you, the more he realized that you used flower language to depict a lot of your emotions. It was a silent way of letting them out, without having to tell other people what's really in your heart.

You thought you were sly about it, but nothing went under Robin's radar.

Everyone was watching a movie on the flat screen in the rec room. You hadn't realized you were so tired, the movie was boring, something that M'Gann had picked and you hadn't slept the night before, busy patrolling your city.

Your eyelids began to droop before you could even understand what was going on, your head lolling as you drifted in and out of consciousness.

Robin hadn't realized that he was napping through the movie until he felt a weight on his shoulder. He nearly jumped awake and glanced to his side to see you sound asleep, breathing gently. He nearly chuckled, was this what you looked like when you weren't scowling at everybody?

His heart skipped a beat, god, were you beautiful. The smell of flowers vaguely hit his nose and he noticed the red gardenia plant growing steadily in the corner of the room.

'Red Gardenias means a secret love,' Robin recalled from a book he had read, 'It's a secret way for someone to say I love you.'

He glanced back at you still sleeping peacefully, face completely relaxed and briefly wondered if your powers were taking the lead on your emotions and making gardenias grow around the cave. Or were you dreaming about something?

Something in his heart grew, here you were sleeping against his shoulder, making symbols of a secret love grow around the room. This had to be a sign of something, right?

Before he could contemplate it any further, you squirmed and then began to stir. Your eyes fluttered open, hazily taking in your surroundings before they landed on the boy beside you and widened in size, skin darkening with a blush.

"Why the fuck didn't you wake me up?" You snapped and turned on your heel to stomp out of the room without even waiting for a response from him. The others who noticed the way he was just staring at the place you were in surprise. You always do such a 180 when you're around him and conscious.

"Wow, sunshine's crabby in the morning." Wally commented from beside him. When he didn't get any response, he looked over to see Robin with a silly smile on his face.

Dick couldn't stop himself from grinning. The gardenias were still blooming.

***

"Antheia, do you think you will be able to stop the plants from growing any further?" Batman turned to face you, only to find you staring at him with a hazy, blank expression.

"Antheia?" Robin called but you didn't even flinch, your eyes were locked onto the holo-computer, seeing the thick vines that were twisting and turning. Their call was overwhelming, you could feel them grow even beneath your feet. It was like a siren was blearing through your head.

You couldn't tell what they were trying to say, it was like they were muffled. It was confused and lost, following Ivy and it was happy listening to her. And yet, it was feeling pain, the Justice League was busy pruning her as we speak. It was scared, crying out for someone to help them and you felt obligated to help. Your mind was getting heavy, throbbing with an oncoming migraine.

"(Y/N)!" Your eyes snapped open and focused onto the boy in front of you. Everyone was staring at you in concern and you blinked, suddenly not able to remember what the hell was going on. You were just trying to focus on something other than the screams and cries of the plant.

"......What?" You asked a little dumbly, noticing the concern on Robin's face. The plants were still crying. You couldn't get the painful sound of their screams out of your mind. You felt like curling up into a ball and crying.

"Batman asked if you would be able to stop the plants?"

"Oh, um, no." You answered in a distracted way that made his face pinch with worry. His hands were still grasping your shoulders tightly, keeping his face in close proximity to yours. You didn't even realize, too out of it to even notice.

Robin on the other hand felt his cheeks get uncomfortably hot the more you stared at him with those innocent, beautiful eyes of yours. If Batman hadn't been breathing down his neck, he was sure he would've kissed you in the moment.

Unfortunately for him, his dad always knew how to ruin the moment. And he would continue to for the rest of his life. Until death do them part. Even after the two of you grow up and live together, the Batman would find some way to interrupt your fun.

"Robin?"

"Huh?"

"The mission."

Oh. Right.

***

"Robin!" You screamed when one of Ivy's plants wrapped around his neck and slammed him against the trees. They didn't let up curling tighter around his throat. Fear struck you as he began choking from breath and you knew you had to do something.

Suddenly murderous intent took over you and you glared at Ivy who returned it with a smug smirk of her own. Oh, how you'd rip that smirk off her face.

"Okay Ivy, you wanna play? Let's play." You ground out, slamming your hands against the vine around Robin's neck and it began disintegrating beneath your fingers. He fell to the ground, gasping for breath and you tuned out the sound of the plant crying as it died beside him.

Ivy heard it just as loudly as you had, she screamed and more plants lunged towards the both of you.

"Go help the others! I'm about to snap this twig." You spat at Robin, using your powers to kill the roots as it reached you. It was working slowly, your powers weak to the pain of the plants around you. Even as every cell of your body told you not to, you clenched your fingers into fists and watched as the creeper feel to the marsh, dead.

You engaged in battle with Ivy. Plants were screaming for mercy all around you but you couldn't stop for even a second. Life around you was trembling but you had to keep fighting the villain in front of you because if you hesitated for even a second, many more would die.

Thorns scratched your skin, drawing blood and curled around Ivy, sinking barbs into her skin.

"Face it girlie! You're never going to overpower me!"

"Oh, I'm not trying to overpower you, just distract you long enough for Robin to get rid of the control system." You replied, just as smug as she had been at the start of the fight. Now you got to see her face melt into one of panic just as Robin jumped over her head and to your side with a grin identical to yours.

"Cover your ears!" He sang, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and ducking, covering your body with his own. You were grateful for it; you weren't sure you could even keep your body upright at the moment.

Then you heard the explosion and your heart stopped. Every single fibre of your body burned red hot fire as you heard screams and cries around you. Bile was crawling up your throat and your breathing got thin. They were sobbing a heart-broken wail and your eyes misted at the mere sound.

Without realizing it, you were gripping onto Robin's hand, brows furrowed together. The sound of the explosion cleared, the Injustice League was captured and he pulled you up to stand with the others.

It was silent for a moment. You had won.

And then the consequences of your actions hit you.

Everyone's necks snapped towards you when you let out a heart-wrenching sob. Robin, who was standing right next to you caught you just in time before your body hit the ground. Pain exploded in your chest as you began wailing against him.

"(Y/N)? (Y/N)! What's wrong?!" He panicked but you didn't respond, crying into his chest as you gripped his cape in an iron fist. Everything hurt and all you could feel was sorrow and guilt.

The other heroes crowded around you but your eyes were screwed shut, tears making your eyes sting. Robin held onto you tightly, pulling your body against his as you continued to cry.

"What's happening?" Artemis murmured, looking around to see the environment change before her eyes. Everyone else followed her lead to see how leaves began rotting, then the trees. The smell was pungent. Thorns and weeds were crawling up the dying trees, pulling them into the swamp.

"(Y/N) please, what's wrong?" Robin whispered in your ear but you couldn't hear him. The sounds of plants screaming and wailing was echoing through your mind. How they begged you to save them. How they begged you to stop.

And then it got hard to breathe, your chest constricted and you were wheezing. Robin had to watch in horror when petals and blood poured from your mouth. You were choking, throwing up and sobbing in his arms, and he was unable to do anything to help you.

"Flash get her to the Batcave." Batman said gruffly, he was shocked and worried for you but didn't say anything, not wanting to scare his son more, "Sending you the coordinates now."

"Alfred prepare the med-bay."

Dick watched with a sinking heart as he handed you into Flash's arms. It took him a few seconds for his mind to stop whirring, he was still kneeling in the swampy marsh when the team huddled around him.

"It's gonna be okay." Wally murmured, wrapping an arm around his shaking body.

"We just have to hope for the best."

***

When the others had gotten back to the Cave, you had just been moved there, after being looked over by Alfred. He joined you in the med-bay, wanting to keep an eye on you. But as of yet, you still had to wake up.

Dick wasn't supposed to be listening to the adult’s conversation, but he couldn't help himself, he had to know if you were going to be okay.

"The situation is undeterminable, sir. But as of now, the flowers that are clogging her respiratory system keep growing. If we don't find a cure for this, it's inevitable that she will suffocate and pass."

His heart stopped. Die? You couldn't die, not when he still had so many things to tell you. For so long, he hadn't told you of his feelings, wanting to keep the relationship between the two of you professional. But now more than anything, he wished he had said something.

There were so many things he didn't get to do with you yet. You had yet to give him a bouquet on your first date. He wanted to lay in bed with you, smelling fresh flowers as you told him what different plants symbolized. He had yet to see moments where you can't control your powers and make plants grow around the cave.

He hadn't even given you a flower yet.

"Rob listen, I did some research on this 'disease'." Wally said, falling into step with him, "It's called the Hanahaki disease."

"That's fiction Wal—"

"But that's the best we've got right now." Came his curt reply and Dick's heart clenched.

"Hanahaki disease is a fictional sickness that only occurs when someone is suffering from unrequited love. The victim will cough up flower petals that symbolize their love. This disease is only cured when the victim's feelings are romantically returned." Wally read off his phone before turning to Dick with a smile.

He raised a brow, "What?"

"You have to kiss (Y/N)!"

"What!?"

"Yep! You have to return her unrequired love!"

"Wally that's ridiculous, kissing someone doesn't cute anything."

"Well, it's the only thing we have. And for (Y/N), we need to try anything." He said, pushing him towards the med-bay. His voice was tight and tense, like he was holding onto his as his last hope and Dick prayed that it would work when the door of your room came into his sight.

You were asleep and if he hadn't known any better, he would've thought you were healthy. Wally closed the door behind him, leaving Dick alone with you. The only sound in was the beeping from your heart monitor and your light wheezing. It was getting harder to breathe.

Dick inched his way closer to you, watching as your eyelashes fluttered gently in your sleep. Leaning over the bed you were lying in; he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before moving his head in line with yours.

"God, please let this work." He whispered and your bottom lip was caught between his. It was feather-light but yet, electricity was buzzing through his veins and fireworks went off in his mind.

For a minute, nothing happened and his heart clenched in his chest before he kissed you a little harder. This had to work because they didn't have any other lead. Dick felt you exhale feebly against him and he almost gave up hope.

But then you took a deep breath, stealing the breath from his lungs and he pulled away quickly to see your eyelids fluttering open. The colour was returning to your cheeks and your eyes were sparkling up at him. You smiled gently and he blinked away tears of relief. Thank goodness.

'His eyes are blue' You thought, staring deeply into them. They were beautiful, alluring. You didn't know why but just looking into his eyes was addicting. Was this what it felt like to be so deep in love? That even his eyes were enough to captivate you?

"I'm so glad you're awake." He muttered, cupping your cheeks firmly and planting another kiss on your lips. You giggled lightly, heart overjoyed to find the boy you had been in love with for so long had returned your feelings and you responded to the kiss eagerly, placing your palms over his hands and leaning into him.

With your regaining strength, you felt a flower materialize in your hands. The stem between your fingers brought you comfort just as the scent of the flower brought you back life.

When Dick pulled away, you delicately slipped it into his hands and he turned his attention to it, blue eyes softening when he recognized this particular flower in his hands.

"It's an Aster." You whispered quietly, lips brushing against his and he chuckled. It was the only flower you thought of when he came to your mind, "Get it?"

Dick turned his eyes away from the blossom and looked at you again. Your heart jumped, noticing just how much love he held in them. Eyes you could swim in, overflowing with love for you. Suddenly you were overwhelmed, feeling adoration and attraction. You needed to be closer to him, even though he was pressed against you.

Your fingers curled into his collar and pulled him closer to you, slanting your lips over his in an open-mouthed kiss. Dick gasped against your lips, startled for no longer than a second before sinking against you and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer.

Your lips moved gently against his, the blushing flower trapped between both your bodies. The smell of fresh flowers clouded Dick's mind with everything that was you. Your hair, your smile, your lips. If you kept kissing him like that, he was certain he'd forget his own name.

And then you pulled away and Dick noted that you were as beautiful as a fresh flower. Your skin was glowing with life and your tired eyes were twinkling. You smiled sleepily at him, eyes closing shut and he lowered you back to the bed. Immediately, you slipped back into slumber, exhausted from the day's events.

He watched for a couple seconds, making sure you were able to breathe without any problems before realizing he should tell the others that you were okay.

He slipped out of the room quietly, stealing a final glance of you sleeping peacefully in the bed and a huge smile grew on his face, "She's awake."

It was only then he noticed just how colourful the room had gotten in the few minutes he was with you.

The walls were covered with vines and roses of different colours, camelias and carnations of different shades. It littered the room, not leaving a single inch of the wall untouched and scattered petals all over the floor like confetti.

Different creepers hung from the ceiling, dusting all the superheroes with sparkling pollen and colourful petals. Not to mention there were stems crawling up the Justice League members, flowers hugging their ankles lovingly.

Batman looked a lot less intimidating with petals in his cape and a rose stuck behind his ear. Robin blushed at the sight of everyone giving him knowing smiles.

"We noticed."

Aster: This flower became a symbol of love when in Greek mythology it was placed on the altars for the gods. So now, when you send a bouquet featuring this vibrant bloom, the message of "Take Care Of Yourself For Me" is implied. It conveys deep emotional love and affection for someone.

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

#dick grayson #dick grayson fanfic #dick grayson fluff #dick grayson headcanon #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson oneshot #robin x reader #Young Justice #young justice fic #young justice oneshot #young justice x reader #young justice imagines #young justice headcanons #tim drake x reader #jason todd x reader #damian wayne x reader #nightwing x reader #nightwing

[radiation]

Some may knowing this some may not...but exactly a year ago was wayneradiotv’s “wayner must survive” 24 hour vr minecraft charity stream benefiting no kid hungry! heres the poster for it:

due to a whole lot of generous people, the total amount raised was $105,437.09, which is absolutely INSANE and amazing

i didnt really talk about it much when it happened, but I worked on the minecraft mod used in the stream. i thought since it’s been a year, it’d be a good time to go down memory lane and talk about some of the stuff i worked on and funny stories about that and the stream in general! this is gonna be super loose and all over the place but maybe it will be interesting to some1. also this is long as hell so be warned

SO wayner must survive was a 24-hour long stream where wayneradiotv on twitch would be playing minecraft in vr for 24 hours straight to raise money for charity. the premise was that the day/night cycle of minecraft would be in real time. about the first half was during daytime in the game, then when night fell, multile waves of twitch subscribers chosen thru a drawing would come to attack wayne every hour.

it was decided that a minecraft mod would be created for the stream, the purpose of which was to 1. integrate donations with minecraft, with donations triggering a choice of various in-game events as incentives. for example, you could choose to spawn a weak enemy with a custom name, create a sign with custom text, dump a bucket of water on wayne’s head, and other various ways to mostly inconvenience him 2. create interest for viewers through original content that would be revealed over time 3. assist in creating stretch goals, bigger events that would be triggered in game once certain donation milestones were met

honestly i forget details about how i was brought onto the project but it was thru shelly @fetalpile on here, who is a friend & someone i’ve collaborated a lot with since then (including on the game in my pinned message!). she was the director of the mod project. the team that she brought together to work on it ended up being called Team Waterflea (and i actually came up w the name!) I think id describe my role as like, some kind of assistant creative director? and general artist. i helped with general ideation & organization, as well as creation of music, art assets, and builds

i didn’t do much during the actual stream though but i floated around a bit and saw some stuff happening behind the scenes

NEXT im gonna be going over some things i made for the mod. this is just gonna be my own contributions, but i really wanna point out that sooooo many others put so much work on this stuff and did so much more than i did. it would take me AGES to give people credit for all the crazy and awesome stuff they made for it and i dont have ages to write stuff, but just know like. THIS IS the tip of the iceberg, seriously, cannot give everyone else enough credit. but yeah that being said here are some of the things i worked on and some stories about them!!

i’ll start with music & sound:

1. composed a couple music tracks

originally there was talk about having a custom soundtrack for the mod, replacing the default minecraft music, which definitely wasnt gonna work out. so we decided to put some songs on cds instead. i definitely put too much energy into this LOL but i was honestly just excited to write music. in the end it didnt turn out too well, for some reason there was no volume control on ingame music so that shit just blasted. extremely fuckin loud. so it had to be mostly foregone, a lot of other ppls tracks werent played either which is really unfortunate. part of a track i wrote got played but it was so loud it had to get stopped part of the way thru

that being said here are da tracks i wrote! heres the one that got played and heres the one that didnt. i was also working on a third track that was like. a ripoff of clubbed to death basically but i never finished it

oh yeah also i came onto the server during the stream a while after the stream started so i wasnt aware of the whole jank CD situation at all. so i got a jukebox and put in a cd that played fuckinnnnnn this track, meaning to just play it for myself for fun but turned out it was for the whole fuckin server to hear. i think wayne had minecraft audio muted or something because it didnt play on the actual stream (thank god) but i felt SO bad like i had no idea

2. came up with the “pig scare”

can be seen here!

it was a donation incentive for $69.42? Basically if you donated that amount, wayne would have reduced visibility because of a pig sliding across the screen along with an obnoxious audio track. my idea for the audio was just like... a really annoying bitcrushed midi seinfeld-esque riff. here’s a link to the track i wrote if you wanna hear it more clearly

it’s actually a reference to one of my FAVORITE videos since like. god idk 5 years ago at this point i think? but i had only recently learned actually had ties to the radio tv solutions crew. i will not link the video here for various reasons but there is a reason why its for $69.42 LOL. but yeah i guess i was going for something thatd be a reference for those who are in the know but isnt alienating & could still be entertaining for those who arent. implemented by shelly btw as are a LOT of these things so huge credit to them

3. i voice acted milkwalker!!

U can hear milkwalker in the last clip i linked, but heres a better one

if you know me you know i sound nothing like how the milkwalker voice sounds... i did the voice by 1. going to the basement where nobody could hear me 2. holding my nose 3. straining my voice beyond belief and making it crack 4. pitch shifting the recording to be lower and adding reverb. i think im still pretty happy with it!

the voice clips for taking damage were “uh oh” in which i accidentally channeled the fuckin teletubbies and “owie” which was liiike peacock from skullgirls. that one was more on purpose tho

now, onto builds, which are probably my biggest contribution to the project

as i mentioned before, halfway thru the stream, various waves of "assassins” would come to attack wayne, which is why its called “wayner must survive”. there were 10 waves with groups of 3 people in each wave, and each group was assigned a “class” - theyd use custom skins, attacks, and sometimes armor based on what their class was. this would add variation and mystery to the fights to keep interest! there was a lot of time and thought put into these different classes and they were so fuckin cool and well done, shouts out to everyone who worked on them

to keep them organized and give each class a place to equip their items, we decided on creating dedicated bases for them. i made 8 of these bases, 2 of them were started/mostly completed by others but i dressed up a bit. i also had a little bit of help on interior decoration

i do not know where the file for the minecraft world is and i don’t know if i’ll ever find it, so i’m gonna take screenshots from the VOD and then talk about them. here is the point in the VOD where the builds show up if you wanna watch that instead:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v7JoVQ-Z-Bk&t=2h46m07s

VERY SADLY because i cant find the world, you cant see any of the interiors of the builds, which ended up looking really cool! so i guess youre just gonna have to trust me on that one. if anyone who was an assassin has screenshots please let me know! but yeah enjoy some janky ass screenshots

1. clowns’ tent

the inside of this one had a little tightrope made of fence that you could jump off to onto a trampoline that was slime blocks covered in carpet!

2. cliparchers’ watch tower

clipart + archers. thats it. i was pretty happy with the inside of this one, i had a lot of banners going on and it was kinda multi-tiered. i think this is the one im saddest about losing.. o well

3. wizards’ tower

floating lanterns!! and futile efforts to limit the growth of vines

4. slayers

this guys eyes glowed in the dark a little and also kinda followed you! there was also a fireplace and some beds inside, it was pretty cute. i know i put a funny secret message in the top of the hat but i forgot what it was...lost to time. this is one of the ones im happiest with for sure

5. food criminals’ restaurant

i didn’t make this one, charlotte did, but i helped flesh it out a little and add some different kind of blocks on the outside. this had a drive through window outside and they only served rotisserie chicken. also a fast food restaurant counter inside, some checkerboard flooring, and then a sleeping area upstairs

6. duelists’ millennium puzzle

this one was really hard to pull off, making a pyramidal shape with the symbol in the middle clear was. tough. im really happy with how it turned considering how insane like. a gold pyramid with detailing also in gold is to make in minecraft. the inside was initially really dark with minimum lighting but mobs KEPT spawning there so i had to lighten it up a lot. it was pretty cool tho it had a kind of altar, nice kinda unnerving atmosphere

7. necromancers’ ss dolphin

not much 2 say about this one. the necromancers were basically sending ghosts of pikmin after wayne since he killed so many pikmin on his streams of the games. and i naturally made the ss dolphin..OH i did have kind of a cool section by the window for a captains seat and some navigation, put some diff buttons and levers around to make it look functional. also used shulker boxes that were colored the same as the pikmin (red/blue/yellow) to store them

8. artifacters’ ????

some kinda crazy upside down coral structure hanging by chains for the artifacters. these guys were based off of jpeg artifacting so everything was fucked up and glitchy and weird colors. original design was done by cottoncandywlw and doctor_synthesis so credit to them for that, i just dressed it up a bit, adding the diff coral colors. which was kind of a challenge since colored coral has to be touching water. i had to make creative ways to hide the water it was touching. also you reached it by stepping on a block that teleports you up there, which i thought was really clever @ whoever came up w it

9. engineers’ 2fort

i couldnt really get a good picture of this one but. yeah. speaks for itself

10. MONKey’s church of all kong

fuck... i like forgot what the whole church of all-kong thing was about but. monkey monks with red eye motif thatst basically it. i had some help on the interior of this one but i forgot whom it was by. library, spiral staircase, and naturally a bunch of barrels upstairs. shouts out to whoever did that

also on the left is just like. a cherry tree. i was gonna add more for decoration but i didnt have time so it ended up just being confusingly out of place and for some reason i feel embarrassed over it. oh well

here’s a pretty good pic of a few of em!

but yeah, these were super fun to work on and i loved adding a bunch of little details on the inside to make it more fun for everyone :D

OTHER STUFF

1. wizard spell

i came up with the idea for the “wizard spell” - the wizard class had an attack where they cast a spell that launched various bad ass pictures of wizards at you and then exploded on impact. i gathered the assets for it, here they are. imagine these exploding in your face (the word wizard included)

2. cliparchers

i made original designs for the bows the cliparchers used, i have the non-resized versions somewhere but i dont wanna get em rn

a. you bow, that launched you in any direction

b. ddr bow, that launched directional arrows that would push whoever hit around in the direction of the arrow

c. hi bow. if it hit you it said hi

d. drop bow. you hit the ground and make an explosion. deadly when combined with da you bow, u can basically dive bomb people

i tried to make em pretty visually different and also in kind of a clip art style as best as i could for the low resolution!

3. helpty humpty

fuck this guy. scrapped donation goal idea that i wanted to be in way too badly but i hate him now and i hate looking at him. he was basically a bonzi-buddy type virtual buddy that would be “installed” into minecraft once enough donations were made. he would be a pop-up on the screen, basically just a UI element. the idea was that he would just say a bunch of bullshit unhelpful tips, give out fake quests and challenges, and have a really conflicted personality. actually really reminds me of the gnome from the half life alyx streams nowadays in a way? but yeah i drew this and i dont like it. i designed him to be unbearable to look at and i guess i succeeded. ultimately im glad he was scrapped cuz i think the humor and timing couldve easily been a huge miss also we were afraid someonewould think hes attractive. fuck this guy

other stuff

-the clowns have an attack where they hit you with a cream pie and the pie covers the screen. this waasnt my idea but what was my idea was to superimpose the text “PIE’D!” over the pie splat so it didnt look like uh. something else. and i saw 0 comments about it so i think we succeeded in that

-i had the idea for scorpy to make a fucked up video to play at the end of the stream to celebrate the money being raised and proposed it to wayne who agreed, i cant take credit for anything beyond that vague suggestion but this was the video that was made. it freaked me out at first but now i think its so funny

-my favorite moment from the whole thing was when we were getting really stressed out about the twitch integration not working out. but then we recruited a bunch of really good coders on board who jumped in a call and worked out the issues together and that was like. zen moment. it was amazing hearing people work through the problems and discuss that stuff in real time, just fixing everything super quick and in a really great harmony. that was fuckin crazy and so inspiring

again... has to be said although ive listed my contributions, they are nothing close to all the hard work and effort everyone else put in. this shit was insane, so much money was raised, the twitch integration was PERFECT, like im astounded. 

i hope this wasnt too boring hahaha but i had fun writing it either way :D i am still so so so  thankful that the charity drive was so successful and im really honored to have been involved in something for such a good cause

[mayfieldss]

hey girl! how have you been?🤍

I think your requests are open. If they aren’t you could totally ignore this!

Ok so I read a similar fic a little while ago and I had an idea for a bucky x y/n and I thought you’d do amazing with this.

Tony is throwing a party and Bucky doesn’t want to go since he’ll have to socialize so he stays in his room. Some random girl comes in by mistake since she was trying to escape the party as well and they start talking. Bucky can’t stop thinking about her and then sees her again a couple days after the party and realizes she’s a new agent who’s working at the compound.

Ok that probably sounds so bad🙈 ahaha sorry! you could totally change it and do whatever you want lol

but thank you very very much!❤️✨

I love this idea so much and I just hope I did it half the justice that it deserves. I really hope you like it.

-

On party business - Bucky Barnes

Buckyxfemreader

Warnings: None unless you're Steve Rogers and coarse language is an issue for you.

AN: Don't mind me venting some of my social anxiety issues through this fic...

The party was loud and busy as would be expected at one of Tony Starks infamous get-togethers. You were only here because you didn’t feel like you could refuse the invite, and how many times could a person be invited to a Party by hosted by Tony Stark? So you went along, instantly regretting the decision as soon as you walked into the compound. It was packed with dancing men and women, some holding drinks while others were grinding their bodies together. Many were sitting on couches enveloped in conversations which you doubted you would be invited into. You didn’t know anyone. Finding the clearest route through the people you made your way to the Bar. There was no way you could get through this night without downing a drink first, if not two or three. Taking a seat on one of the stools you glanced around the room hoping the night would go by faster. - Bucky hated Parties. He hated how many people would surround him, ask him questions in their drunk states and caress his Metal arm with their sticky, alcohol covered fingers. There were also the ones that would avoid him completely as well. The ones that were still wary of him despite knowing he was no longer the Winter Solider. Those people were a part of his everyday life however, so he didn't mind them as much, having been accustomed to so many living in fear of him already. This in mind, it still hurt to think nobody trusted him enough to be around him. It made it so the Winter Solider was always with him, people only seeing him as his past. So Bucky didn’t leave his room. Nobody at the Party would want him there anyway, they wouldn’t miss his presence. He sat on his bed and read his books, cleaned his boots, wrote in his journal. This way nothing unexpected could ever happen. - You’d been at the party for no more than two hours and were already aching to leave. There were too many people around for your liking, none of them paying any interest in you as you stood in the corner next to the bar. Most were shitfaced drunk, you managing to stay sober despite the circumstances. You never let yourself over drink at parties after seeing some of your past friends making the most embarrassing mistakes during your high school years. Some got tattoos or had one night stands, others posted videos of themselves on the internet for all to see or sent an embarrassing message to their ex. Making a promise to yourself in high school you told yourself to never let yourself become like them. You planned to keep that promise. Pushing your way to through the crowd you made you way to one of the many staircases attempting to get away from the storm of people surrounding you. Some swore at you as you moved your way past them, holding onto the handrail for security to avoid any drama as people shoved you back. You weren’t trying to be rude but you had to get away. Once at the top you moved quickly down the hallway to the left of you, turning each doorknob you passed, looking desperately for a room that was unlocked to be your place of refuge. Five doors later and a doorknob twisted with ease allowing you entrance. You pushed the door open in a hurry, rushing into the room without so much as a glance around. Closing the door behind you you rested your forehead gently upon its wood with a sigh. You were so relived to find an escape from the over peopled space outside of this room, finally taking a breath only for it to catch in your throat at the sound of another's presence. It was the sound of a closing book, it wasn't being slammed shut but just gently closed and you could hear the pages slap lightly against each other. Your shoulders tensed and you reached for the doorknob readying yourself to leave. "You okay?" It was the voice of a man, deep and steady. Calming somehow. Slowly retracting your hand from the doorknob you turned to face the stranger of that you had walked in on. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know anyone was in here. I was just trying to get away from the crowd". Your back was pressed to the door and you hands itched to reach for the doorknob again, every part of you

wishing to get out of the uncomfortable encounter. The man gave a small awkward smile and shuffled himself to the edge of the bed he was lying on, placing his feet on the ground. He was wearing cat socks and you couldn't stop the smile forming on your lips. He looked at you confused, and followed your gaze to his feet an embarrassed blush forming on his cheeks. "I like them a lot, where'd you get them?" You asked not wanting him to feel self-conscious over something as simple as a pair of socks. He simply shrugged "Can't remember honestly". You could tell he did remember and that he probably had whole draws full of the fuzzy feet warmers but you didn't overstep any more than you already had, having been in his room and all. "I guess I should go" You point behind you to the door you were leaning against, biting the inside of your cheek anxiously. You could taste the blood in your mouth from the harsh grazing of your teeth. "I'm so sorry for bothering you". You reached for the doorknob your fingers wrapping around it tightly as you were so close to your escape. "Wait" Freezing in your place you took his words more seriously than he meant them to be. You had been so close to leaving and you contemplated pulling the door open and making a run for it. He seemed to understand your discomfort "You don't have to but if you want to stay here until the party calms down a little you can". There was a silence and you regarded his proposal before turning back around to face him, keeping a hand pressed firmly to the wood of the door. "Are you sure I wouldn't be bothering you?". The man shook his head, a short laugh escaping his lips "Yeah I'm sure. God knows I need to be more social". This made you frown, not understanding how he could say such a thing when there was a very social party right outside his door. "If you need to be social you shouldn't be out there?" You waved behind you again keeping your eyes on the man in front of you. He had bright blue eyes that seemed to stare into the deepest parts of your soul, but not in the threatening way from which it would seem. They felt safe and trustworthy. He wore a grey T-shirt over a long sleeved black thermal, jeans and of course those wonderful cat socks. He seemed kind enough and you felt your stress fade the smallest bit as you took in his features. The man with the undeniably beautiful eyes shook his head at your question "I'm not fond of crowds". You had to agree with him there. You always felt uncomfortable around masses of people especially in small spaces. You had Your social anxiety to thank for that wonderful fault. It wasn't like you could help it, You tried to but it was difficult to stand being cramped together with a bunch of strangers. "I understand what you mean" You lifted your gaze from his for a second and looked around his room. It was neat and tidy, everything organized and in its own little home where it belonged. "You are very-' you paused, thinking of a word to describe the place, "-Clean". He nodded "I've had issues with people controlling me in the past, this is just one thing I feel l can make my own". The change of tone in his voice startled you, how important this was to him and the hidden pain that appeared behind the blue eyes you had grown to adore within the short minutes of knowing him. Sliding your back down the door you sat on the floor of his room staring back at him on his bed. You couldn't deny that you didn't want to go back out into the bustling hallway filled with drunken fools. So you had made the decision and decided to stay. He looked shocked by your movements and a frown began to form on his face as he shuffled closer to the wall next to his bed. "You can sit up here if you want, I can move if you feel uncomfortable with me up here too, or I can get you a chair" He sounded so sincere and the gentleman in him pleased you. You doubted any other man you had met on this night would have been so kind but you declined his offers, already feeling like a burden in his room. "It's okay, I'm fine here". You could tell he didn't

like your answer, that he wanted to get up so you could sit on the bed or get you the chair that he suggested. You sent him a smile to reassure him you were okay where you were. After a moment of silence he spoke "So you don't like parties?" You let yourself chuckle "You could say that yeah". "Why?". It took a moment to register his question fiddling with your hands, cracking your knuckles. "Same reason as you I guess, Its hard to feel accepted around people you don't know, I feel like their judging me. It makes me uncomfortable". You had no idea why you told him that but once it left your lips you couldn't take it back. It was okay though, it wasn't as embarrassing as you thought it would be when you looked up to see his understanding eyes. "But you know people here right? Friends that know you?" His head was tilted to the side, just a little, and he reminded you of a puppy. A handsome blue eyed puppy. You shook your head "Not here no, and even if I did they wouldn't really know me" Once again you shared more than was needed but it felt so easy to say, it came out before you could think the words over and there was no shame in saying the words like you thought there would be. He didn't seem bothered by them either, more like he knew where you were coming from. "What's your name?" "Bucky". You liked that name a lot. It was a nickname obviously but it suited him so perfectly and you felt so comfortable at hearing it. It was almost indescribable, the way he seemed to be telling himself what his name was as well as you. It made you even more curious, all the unknowns about the person in front of you, Bucky, that you wanted to learn. "What's yours?" You frowned "What's my what?" as soon as the words left your lips you felt stupid, so entranced by him that you were barley thinking of the conversation at hand. A smile formed on his face "What's your name?" You could feel your cheeks burning in embarrassment and you struggled for words through flustered state. "Of course um- it's Y/n" You felt so stupid and looked down at your hands trying to seem unbothered, pretending that what had just happened never did. You had never been good at dealing with embarrassment and you chose to keep your head down whenever something embarrassing happened. That had started in high school as well. How easy it was to be teased for the smallest things had brought upon you the stress and anxiety you held with you to this very day. "I like that name" Bucky's words were gentle, as if they alone, were lifting your head up to look at him, like a gentle hand under your chin. "I like your name too". He smiled again at that and you looked back to your hands squeezing them together tightly. You wanted to ask him so many questions, keep a conversation flowing to stop the awkward silence that would soon settle in but you didn't want to seem weird in any way. You tried to think of something that related to your previous, extremely short, conversation. Something to add onto it, to get to know him better. "What's your full name? I know Bucky's a nickname" You were about to stop there, and you probably should have, but thought it best to clarify some more with what you meant "Not that I don't like the name Bucky, I love it actually, I just wanted to know". Curses flowed through your mind and anxiety followed as your words trailed off into the short silence before his response. You sounded so stupid and you cringed internally at how awkward you always were. "My names James. James Buchanan Barnes". You bit your lip as a smile formed on his, making your stomach do the smallest of flips. "Well It's nice to meet you James Buchanan Barnes". - Bucky hadn't expected someone like you to come through his door and he hadn't expected you to accept his offer to stay. You talked to him like he was a real person and you never said a thing about his arm. It was as though you barely noticed it and after twenty minutes you came to sit with him on the bed, the floor becoming 'unbearably uncomfortable' in your words. He made plenty of room and kept a

respectable distance between you, not wanting to come off like he was just trying to get in your pants, but you seemed to understand that that wasn't the case. You talked for another hour, silences between different conversations as you thought of ways to keep the discussion going. You were both as awkward as each other it seemed, and as time passed you both became more comfortable with the others presence. When you finally checked the time you were surprised to see how long you had stayed and got up fast to leave. Bucky didn't want you to go but it wasn't his place to tell you otherwise. You put your shoes back on, having taken them off earlier and headed toward the door. Turning back to him as you twisted the handle you pursed your lips with a small smile. He thought it was cute. "Thank you Bucky, for letting me stay". Bucky nodded "Maybe I'll see you around, if I'm lucky". You bit your lip one last time, a thing Bucky noticed you did, before you opened the door and left, closing it behind you. Bucky sat back on his bed a grin growing on his face at the thought of you, a complete stranger whose company he had grown to enjoy. He thought over the last thing he had said, 'Maybe I'll see you around, if I'm lucky'. Bucky wasn't ever very lucky but maybe the world would be on his side this time. Maybe he would get to see you again. - A week had passed since the party and Bucky sat with Sam and Steve at the compound. An argument had ensued as a result of this the three never being a stunning trio, mainly referring to Bucky and Sam's constant bickering. "That's not how it works! Come on side with me here Steve!" Sam looked over to their blonde haired friend who simply shrugged as a response. He was smart enough not to get caught up in sides between the two of them. Bucky opened his mouth to respond but someone over Sam's shoulder caught his eye, making him pause. "Cat got your tongue? You know I'm right Buck". Bucky simply ignored Sam's teasing, eyes locked on the newcomer to the room. A woman talking to Natasha. Her back was turned and her hair was down obscuring any possible view of her features from him. But he knew he recognized her. If only she would would turn around. It took another minute and now, curious, both Sam and Steve had moved their gazes to the girl. They didn't seem to know her and soon became bored turning back to each other and starting a whole new conversation from which Bucky ignored entirely. After a period of time that seemed to last forever, Natasha waved Him, Steve and Sam over and the closer Bucky got to the girl the more he recognized her. It was then that she turned, locking eyes with him. He could tell she recognized him just as he did her. It was you. He smiled. "Hey stranger". -

AN: Happy Bucky fic Friday!!!!

TAGLIST: @characters-deserve-better @posteyymaloney @agentsofsheilds @ladyfallonavenger @buckys2thicc @justifymyfeelings @winter-soldier-vibes TAGS:

#Bucky Barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes fic #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes imagine #Bucky imagine #Bucky Barnes one shot #Bucky #Bucky one shot #James Buchanan Barnes #Winter solider #Fatws #Buckyxfemreader #Bucky x yn #Steve rogers #Sam Wilson #falcon #falcon and the winter #Captain America #Sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan fluff #Sebastian stan imagine #Bucky Barnes fluff #Bucky Barnes smut #angst #Marvel #MCU #Marvel cinematic universe #Avengers

[anasticklefics]

Unsaid

Fandom: Star Wars

Characters: Poe/Finn

Summary: They land on a planet that has a field that tickles anyone who comes near, and Poe is having one too many feelings about it.

A/N: My first fic back from hiatus! Honestly I’m only posting something because I wrote more than half of this while I was gone, but felt inspired to finish it today. I hope you like it, I’m very proud 🥺

Words: 2k

A breeze of heat ruffled Poe’s hair as he stood at the edge of the Field of Laughter on a planet that had too much of an orange tint for his liking. It reminded him of dry, unforgiving land full of sand and nothing but sand, but mostly it reminded him of the times he’d been stranded, so thirsty he could die, running for his life over the scorching ground. Just last week, that is. It reminded him of being near death, and of watching Finn and Rey getting dragged just out of his reach.

“It’s okay, you know,” Finn told him now, watching Poe as Poe watched the field. “If you want to try it, I mean.”

Poe chanced a glance at him, wondering what the orange tint made his blush look like. “I’m good.”

“Poe.” Finn had mastered the knowing smile he occasionally shot his way wonderfully. An amusement to it, but also something kind that made Poe all the more embarrassed whenever it was aimed at him. Vulnerability, even during the war, was always something that terrified him, even more than the war.

“Really, I’m okay,” he said, averting his gaze back toward the dancing blades of yellow grass. They’d been told the field was bigger than it seemed, twisting and turning behind the mountains and the trees Poe had been surprised to find here. They all looked dead, but were apparently perfectly fine.

“If you’re worried someone will see or hear you we could go further.”

“Why do you think I want to try it?”

“Oh, come on now.” Finn bumped their shoulders together. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

The Field of Laughter was said to be a very ticklish experience; so much so that the natives who lived by it had developed a thicker skin, quite literally so, in order to survive having to cross it. It had saved them valuable time, not having to walk around it, and it only got a couple of giggles out of the younger ones now.

Poe was absolutely certain he would never escape the dancing blades, whose only purpose in life was to tickle whomever walked over and through them. They were kept regularly short, cut with hovering blades and quick hands, as they could probably tickle someone to death if they were able to trap them. A field of torture for most, but something else to Poe.

“I promise to pull you out if it becomes too much,” Finn continued, but Poe could tell he wasn’t going to push it more. It was up to Poe to decide whether he was brave enough to be vulnerable in more than one way.

They’d landed there by accident. A mission gone wrong, but not so wrong it had really cost them anything. Just time, which they sometimes couldn’t afford and other times were swimming in. They’d been fortunate, for once, to be rich enough to give it away so easily to a planet that neither attacked them nor wanted to help them. Proud of their history, but wary of their grounds, meaning they told them everything but let them see little. Poe knew of the group that had settled not too far away from their makeshift camp, keeping an eye on them and making sure they didn’t stray past the point they’d been allowed to see. Poe wasn’t sure why they’d been forced to stay by the Field of Laughter of all places, but he’d been thoroughly on edge for the past two days because of it.

“Better be careful,” Jess had said, pointing to the field. “If you piss me off I might throw you in.”

Poe hadn’t replied, his ears still ringing with the story of the field they’d just been told. Lab-made. Torture device. Impossible to stop. It had made him want to peel his skin off to hear it.

“Poe.” Finn, his one and only confidant in this, hadn’t teased him like Poe had feared, but that knowing look had almost been worse. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”

One thing you should know about Poe Dameron: he had absolutely no idea how to handle any type of feeling that involved vulnerability, which included embarrassment and fear and love and lust. Unfortunately his feelings about tickling had traces of all, to a certain point. It was embarrassing to love something most people hated. It was terrifying to love something to the point of sensuality.

Finn had found out by accident, too. A drunken night, Poe too touch-starved and exhausted and in love with him to keep quiet, and while whatever they were was still unsaid and only shown in quiet fingertips to skin, Finn was all too eager to give him what he wanted after he’d let it slip. Poe refused to talk about it now, all of it unsaid and quiet, all theirs but barely.

Finn hadn’t mentioned the field as they’d started their walk, but Poe couldn’t look at him as they’d walked along the edge of it, maybe too close to it for comfort. One misstep and he could fall in, and then he’d have to face one too many truths at once.

Truth was, he almost wished someone would push him in. Just as an excuse.

“It almost doesn’t look like the blades are dancing,” was the first thing he’d said. “There’s no rhythm to it.”

“I’m sure they’re trying their best,” Finn had replied and Poe had laughed, nearly hysterically, as if giddy at the idea of having them dance over his skin.

“How does it even work?” he said now, two days later, the evening sun still bright and orange, but fading ever so slightly by the minute. “Like, do they go for your feet first or trip you or what?” He was only able to ask because it sounded so stupid to ask it.

“No idea.” Finn tilted his head at the field. “Does it work if you’re dressed and wearing shoes?”

“No idea.”

“Maybe we should ask someone. I’m sure they’d be willing to share.”

“We’d look too invested.”

Finn grabbed his wrist, squeezing once and calming him instantly. “We don’t have to.”

Poe went to bed untickled, tangled up in Finn’s embrace.

*

He only went because he’d dreamt of it and had learned to take dreams seriously years ago. In his dream it had been intoxicating, the sensation unbearable enough to have felt real, and so he went, wondering if he would leave or die there, laughing until it hurt him. That was the most fascinating part. Where did the line go between pleasure and pain when it came to something like this? How much could he take? Were Finn’s occasional prodding hands enough or was he capable of handling more?

In retrospect there was probably a safer way to figure this out, but Poe stopped by the edge of the field, feet bare and pants rolled up to his calves, with a relief he rarely ever felt regarding this. The early morning sun was more of a soft canary yellow than orange, and Poe felt he could breathe more easily.

“Hello,” he said, his voice a murmur as he bent to get closer to the grass. “Aren’t you causing a lot of commotion.”

He didn’t feel stupid to speak to it. Somehow he felt it was alive, just communicating differently than him. He’d walked as far as he’d been able to, but felt as if his laughter would still be heard if it caught him. Many years ago, when he’d had too much pride to admit to vulnerability, he’d been captured by a rope and remained hanging upside down for longer than was comfortable, squirming, struggling, but refusing to scream for help. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep quiet during this.

The blades did nothing to acknowledge his presence and Poe longed for a thick forest - preferably a dark green one - to hide him from view when he reached out a finger to hover above it. An idiot, they would call him if they saw him. An idiot that’s asking for it.

If only they knew how desperately he was really asking. How loud and persistent and starved his pleas were, in the midst of a war that gave him no privacy to be candid.

“Would you let go of me if I asked nicely?” The blades were just out of reach. He could imagine them suddenly reaching forward and gripping him by the wrist, pulling him in and under for the rest of his giggly eternity.

But of course, they merely kept dancing. He wiggled his index finger over them. “Are you ticklish yourselves?”

The silence around him was deafening. If he fell he would be heard by the whole universe.

If he didn’t fall he could pretend he had. Say he’d been sleepwalking, hence his lack of proper footwear, and had ended up in this ticklish awakening.

Finn would know, naturally, but Finn would never tell. Would only try to gently coax the answers out of him and Poe would blush and blush and blush until he would say something stupid that would have Finn either laughing or rolling his eyes. Finn would drop it only momentarily, for it was too big of a thing to do on your own for him to never bring up again.

Poe wasn’t surprised when Finn appeared a moment later, his steps quiet but not non-existent. “Hi.”

Poe sighed and straightened, turned to glance at him quickly to hide the already spreading flush. “Hi.”

“I knew I’d find you here.”

“Dead or alive?”

“Hmm, either. Happy it was the latter.” He stopped beside him, letting their shoulders brush as they gazed over the field. “Are you gonna do it?”

“Not sure. Honestly I might’ve stood here for hours if you hadn’t arrived.”

“I can hold your hand. Pull you back out.”

Poe looked at him. Finn, with his own worries and dark circles under his eyes from how little he actually slept and his ever present way of reaching out without expecting anything back. If he trusted anyone with this it was him.

“Okay.”

Finn met his gaze. “Okay?”

Poe held out his hand. “Okay.”

Finn took it.

*

In retrospect it was both an overwhelming and underwhelming experience. The idea of it, the actual act of stepping his bare foot onto the field, still made his heart race. But while it did tickle it wasn’t the hysteria he’d been imagining. To be fair, he only let it go as far as to his calf before he decided he’d had enough, but for someone as sensitive as him it should’ve been worse.

It did tickle, though. It tickled a lot.

“I think you’re just too used to the sensation,” Finn told him after they’d returned to their quarters.

Poe huffed in embarrassment. “Not like that.”

“Oh, come on. I’ve pinned you plenty of times.”

“Not like that,” Poe said, quieter.

“That sounds like a challenge.”

As he’d stepped onto the field, Finn’s hand tight over his, Poe had felt fear and excitement and shame and acceptance, all at once, as the blades started dancing over his skin. When he’d realized, after the blades had started tickling between his toes, that he wasn’t able to actually remove his foot from the grass, was when he’d started laughing and couldn’t stop.

“I’ve never heard you laugh like that, though,” Finn said now. “I’m actually offended. I’m definitely taking this as a challenge.”

“How did I laugh?” Poe asked, because yes okay sometimes embarrassment made him stupid.

“Desperately. More high pitched than usual.” Finn’s smirk was intoxicating and fucking terrifying. “Want to try to recreate it?”

“People will hear us,” Poe said, already laughing stupidly, nervously, too smitten for his own good.

“I have a perfectly good palm to muffle it.”

And so the rest of Poe got tickled, too.

#tickling #ticklish!poe #finnpoe #stormpilot #finnpoe fic #star wars #star wars fic #tickle fic #unsaid #mine #ana's fics

[corpsedaydream]

hi i love ur work so much and i had a request! corpse and reader are dating and she isn’t necessarily what fans think his type is. she isn’t really goth and doesn’t watch anime so when she sees corpse talking about e girls and goth girls and all that stuff she feels left out and like she isn’t who he wants to be with, and when he’s streaming with her (she’s also a youtuber), he’s like talking about an anime show and reader feels left out and the whole live chat is just saying how she doesn’t belong there and that corpse could do so much better ect. so she has a breakdown in the bathroom and he reads the comments about her and gets upset and defends her which ends with him cuddling the fuck out of her and kissing away her tears idk just angst with a fluffy ending please i’m desperate 😔✌️💗

ooooooooooof i put myself in all the feels writing this and now i’m meant to just go to sleep like i’m not feeling some type of way smh

but!!!!!!!! i like how it turned out hehe, hope u enjoy

word count: 1.5k

_________________________

beach baby

Your freckles were a lot more prominent lately, but that was always something that happened during this time of year when summer was quickly approaching. As much as you felt a little insecure by the the little marks that were dotted all over your body, it came hand in hand with the excitement of being able to do all of your favourite things that just felt better to do in summer.

You were a beach baby through and through. Growing up, you lived in the one house your whole life that was right by the beach and when your family went on holidays, it was always to a holiday house that was by another beach. You could swim before you could walk or talk. When you did learn how to walk, your parents realised they had to keep an extra close eye on you at the beach because you’d always run down to the waves, not realising the danger in your toddler years. When you watched The Little Mermaid for the first time, you begged your mother to turn you into a mermaid so you could live a life under the sea. When you were a kid getting picked up from school, your after school activity was going to the beach. Whenever the school swimming carnival rolled around, it was always you who got nominated to do the races. When you were a dramatic teenager and found out the boy you liked kissed someone else, you went to the beach and wrote his name in the sand just to watch it get washed away by the sea.

Your life had always involved the beach and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Whenever the idea of falling in love with someone popped into your mind, you always thought it would happen with the beach involved in some way. And there had been a few surfer boys you’d had flings with, but none stuck. They never really made an impact on you.

But Corpse had.

The two of you were an unlikely pairing, the absolute definition of opposites attract, but it worked.

You’d met at a mutual friends house by chance and there was an undeniable spark from that very first moment.

-

“Sitting under the moon is a lot better than the sun.” The two of you had found yourselves in a light hearted argument that very first night. After getting introduced and realising there was a pull between you both, he had eventually grabbed your hand and brought you to come sit up on the rooftop with him.

“What? No way, dude.” You shook your head and laughed, he was everything you weren’t but all you wanted. “The moon is so pretty,” You agreed with him, “but the sun makes you warm and it’s so pretty when the sky is all blue with a couple of cute, white fluffy clouds. That’s the perfect weather to be out and about.”

“If you like going out and about.”

“You don’t like going outside?”

“Nah,” Corpse hesitated, contemplating on how honest he should be with the girl he’d just met but was feeling so comfortable around. “I can’t handle the world sometimes, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it. If someone came up to me and said you can spend your whole life under water as a mermaid but never be able to come back on land, I’d seriously consider.”

“Even after meeting me?” The tone shifted back to the playful flirting and you were grateful for it.

“Shut up and admire your moon.”

“I will, after all, the night sky is far superior.” He was holding firm in his opinion.

“I think it’s all really pretty.” You said honestly, and it was the truth. You were just as hypnotised by a moonlit sky with stars sparkling as you were with a daytime sky.

“I think you’re really pretty.”

He’d had your heart from that moment.

-

You’d actually gone to the beach today and spent a solid few hours there with friends and it had put you in such a blissful state. Making the drive to your boyfriends place so enjoyable, because you were also very excited to see him.

He’d left the door unlocked when you messaged him saying you were on your way. So when you arrived you let yourself in, shutting and locking the front door behind you, knowing Corpse was streaming and you were going to join him.

“Hi.” You whispered, opening the door to his office, not knowing if you should let your presence be known to stream yet. You always felt a little nervous when it came to his fans. The first time you joined him in a stream, all you could concentrate on was the amount of messages that stated how you were exactly wrong for Corpse. How you were the opposite to who he should be with. From there, it only progressed. You saw the hate comments and negative things that some of them had to say about you and it hurt.

“She’s here!” Corpse announced, so at least it was known to them that you would be joining him at some point, they had some warning and you hoped it meant you would receive a warmer welcome. “Hey, baby, get over here.” He opened his arms and you sat down on his lap, greeting him with a kiss before you both brought your attention back to his stream.

“Hi guys!” You greeted the stream, cautiously looking over the influx of messages, waiting for something negative but it seemed they were asking you about something. “I can see you guys asking, but I don’t really know what you’re talking about...” You trailed off before looking at Corpse. “What were you talking about?”

“Oh...” He started, “we were talking about an anime. (Y/N) isn’t really into anime, guys.” He laughed and you smiled but you could feel the anxiety start to build, you just knew this was going to cause a wave of hate to you.

“Hey, I loved Sailor Moon and Pokemon when I was a kid.” You attempted to make a joke, thinking it would gain approval of his fans but it only caused them to react worse.

The chat started moving faster, messages of,

‘LMAO of course she doesn’t know what we’re talking about’

‘Did she really just say Pokemon? She’s fucking basic’

‘What a fucking dumbass’

‘Dump her ass Corpse’

‘Ugh why the fuck did she come?’

‘WE DONT WANT YOU HERE’

‘Fuck off (Y/N)’

‘Corpse you can do so much better’

You could feel the tears welling up, each comment being another jab and you knew you had to leave or you would cry right there and they’d all hear just how they had gotten to you. Quickly, you got up, ignoring Corpse calling after you and trying to reach for you to bring you back to him.

Making your way to the bathroom, you washed your face in an attempt to calm yourself but it didn’t work at all. So instead, you sunk to the floor and let yourself cry. You couldn’t understand why they hated you, you loved him so much for exactly who he was, just as they did. Couldn’t they be happy if who he was with made him happy? Negative thoughts were swirling your mind. They were getting to you.

“(Y/N)?” Corpse cracked the door open, his face full of worry as he stepped inside the bathroom. “Oh, baby, hey, hey,” He was by your side in a moment, his hands finding your sun kissed cheeks as he left a kiss against your head before finding your vision. “I saw what they were saying. They’re wrong.”

“But what if they’re not, Corpse?” You couldn’t help but to argue back. “You deserve someone better for you.”

“Stop it, stop right now.”

“No, I mean, look at us... We’re complete opposites.”

“And so?” He responded. “Do you love me?”

“Yes, of course I do.”

“That’s all that matters.” He told you, and you knew he was right, it was just the hate comments were really playing on your mind.

“Is it, though? Don’t you want someone else?”

“No. Fuck no.” He wrapped his arms around you then, he knew you really needed reassurance right now and he was going to give it to you. “You’re fucking perfect, baby. My beach baby, I only want you.” He told you, bringing you onto his lap once more, only now you were on the bathroom floor. You wrapped your legs and arms around him, needing to be close to him.

“Please don’t leave me.” Your voice was barely audible when you’d whispered that but he heard it and it crushed his heart to know it was his audience that had made you feel this way.

“I won’t, ever.” He assured you, he was cradling you with a force now, ever so slightly rocking the two of you back and forth. “You don’t ever have to ask me that, I’m not going anywhere.”

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse imagine #corpse husband imagine #corpse x reader #request #writing #mine #GOODNIGHT #Anonymous #answered

[taephilia]

lost (myself) & found (you)

pairing: jeon jungkook x gn!reader

genre: fluff, soulmate au, based off of kimi no na wa

warnings: one (1) swear word

word count: 2,120

a/n: i saw this quote from the movie and inspiration just struck and i haven't been able to get it out of my head since. ofc i wrote this for jungkook since he's a weeb and said he would also want to hear bells ring when he meets his soulmate <3 also this is not edited lol i'll come back to it later, i just wanted to get this out

"Once in a while when I wake up, I find myself crying. The dream I must’ve had I can never recall. But… the sensation that I’ve lost something, lingers for a long time after I wake up." - Tachibana Taki, Kimi No Na Wa (2016)

Jungkook isn’t sure how long he’s felt like this—felt like something is missing, something important, something that his heart just can’t seem to let go of even if his brain has already forgotten. He knows that he dreams of whatever it is. He recalls scenes as he goes about his day; a loud laugh here, a brush of a hand against his there. People that he’s never seen before walking by him in a city he’s never been to, music playing on the radio that he’s never heard, a family that he comes home to that he doesn’t recognize at all. It’s all very strange and Jungkook is starting to wonder if maybe the late night ramen he’s built up a habit of eating has gone bad or maybe the unhealthy amounts of salt in it are the cause behind this. Because it was all fun and games until Jungkook’s heart starts to ache, like it’s calling out to someone that his brain can’t even conjure up an image for. Someone that he would search the ends of the cosmos for, someone that, whenever he feels like he gets close to them, slips right through his fingers like grains of sand. But he shakes it off whenever the feeling comes and ignores the heavy feeling in his chest in favor of paying attention to that day’s classes. If he had somehow found his soulmate, it definitely wouldn’t be someone in his hometown in the countryside.

Soulmate. That’s who his grandfather had told him he’s been dreaming about ever since Jungkook confessed almost two months ago about the reason behind his ever-present furrowed brows and faraway look in his eyes. He says that it had happened to him when he was around Jungkook’s age but, like most dreams, he’s forgotten who it was. He then went on to talk about the red thread of fate and that’s when Jungkook started tuning out. It’s a nice concept to think about when you’re a child—a red string tied around your pinky that connects you to the person that you’re destined to be with—but it’s just a myth and Jungkook doesn’t have time to think about things that aren’t real. Not when he barely has the time to think about the things that are real, like college entrance exams and graduating from high school.

So he buries his head in his books and pours every last drop of blood, sweat, and tears into his studies to get into his dream college in Seoul. The yearning in his heart doesn’t go away but it’s eclipsed by the pure exhaustion that he feels at the end of every day. And, like most dreams, he forgets.

Jungkook is 23 when he seriously begins to wonder whether or not he’s going crazy. He had thought he was going over the deep end while in college but hearing bells go off? Now that takes the cake. It happens at random; he never knows when the bells in his head will ring (and Jungkook knows that only he can hear them because nobody around him ever gives any sort of indication that they’ve heard them) no matter how much he tries to prepare for it. He checks his surroundings every day, eyes scanning over the crowds of people weaving around him in Seoul, but it’s no use. The only consistent location that they seem to chime in is when he’s on the metro and even then, it’s on random days, at random times, and not always at the same stop.

He’s not the type to go chasing after fairy tales, or at least, he isn’t anymore. He doesn’t have time to think hard and long about what these imaginary bells could mean, not when he has a job to do and people to impress and money to be made. And his grandfather died during his second year of college so the only conversation of “soulmates” that occurs now are the ones he has with himself in his head and the memories of their conversations years ago. But as fate would have it, Jungkook took a couple of days off to get an early start to the weekend and he is just itching for an adventure. So when he hears the bells go off while he’s making his way to his connecting train, he closes his eyes for a brief moment and puts himself into the hands of fate.

Jungkook allows his feet to carry him where they want, observing his surroundings and keeping an eye out for any person who gives any sort of indication to hearing something that they shouldn’t be hearing. He climbs up the stairs and out of the station, not giving any attention to the people who side-eye him for standing still on a bustling sidewalk, but looks down at his hand instead. In particular, at his pinky, which feels like there’s something squeezing at it. Like… like a thread that’s been tied snugly around it.

The red thread of fate, a voice in his head whispers to him and Jungkook almost chuckles out loud at the thought. And then almost laughs out loud again because, although he doesn’t believe in soulmates, his actions say otherwise. Because as much as Jungkook doesn’t believe in soulmates… Well, the thought of them and the red thread of fate being real is nice, isn’t it? Someone that you’re destined to be with, connected to by a string that can tangle and stretch but will never fray, keeping you tied to them for all eternity. It’s a comforting thought, especially when he thinks of his extremely lacking love life that comes with his high standards and fear of rejection.

Jungkook passes by a bakery during his fate-led walk and just as he’s considering stopping in to buy something, he hears the bells again. A light sound, one that could be mistaken for a phone notification, but one that he knows very well. But Jungkook’s soulmate must be as used to the sound as he is because no one around him gives any sort of indication that they’re also in search of him. And after an hour and a half of walking around a part of the city that he isn’t too familiar with, he’s ready to call it quits for the night. So Jungkook makes his way to the nearest metro station and gets on a train home.

Of course, that’s when he hears the bells again.

He looks up from his phone and around the crowded train but nobody has been able to move since the doors closed. And if it were someone near him, he would have heard them before. There’s a flash out of the corner of his eye and when Jungkook looks up and out the window of the sliding doors, he sees a pair of eyes staring back. A pair of eyes that are not his but in fact belong to someone in a train traveling right next to his. They stare right at him and mirror his own when they widen at the exact same time as his. But just as soon as Jungkook finds you, he loses you just as quickly when your train goes in a different direction.

Jungkook spends the entire day the next day looking for you. He manages to cross off everything on his “things to do when I’m in Seoul” bucket list that he’s been adding on to for the past 10 years. His feet hurt, his wallet feels significantly lighter than when he first left his apartment, and he’s wondering how much weight he lost from walking what feels like the entire expanse of Seoul three times over. And even after all that, he hasn’t heard the bells. Not once.

And it’s at this point, when Jungkook decides to eat dinner at his favorite ramen shop before calling it a night, that he begins to wonder if he had missed his chance last night. Not like it was much of a chance considering the fact that you were on a different train and he had no way of getting to you. But fate is cruel, isn’t that what some people say? Maybe his thread is just so tangled, so frayed, that it’ll take a lifetime before he’s able to get another glimpse at you. And Jungkook just isn’t that patient.

He can barely even remember what you look like anymore. Maybe it’s the hunger eating away at his stomach and the aching of his feet but as he eats his ramen, he can only recall vague details about you. Like how he wants to drown in your eyes, how soft your skin looks even through two dirty train door windows, and how he thinks your shiny hair probably smells nice - like vanilla or peaches or something. But your face? Absolutely nothing. It’s like he blacked out the second he looked up at you last night.

Jungkook leans back in his seat as he sips at his water, staring out the window of the shop as if you would walk past right that second. But you don’t. So Jungkook throws a couple of bills down onto the table for a tip and heads out, a sigh leaving his lips when he looks around but doesn’t hear any bells. Now that he’s had a chance to sit down and eat, he feels a bit more rational and more determined to find you—but that can wait until tomorrow after he’s had a good night’s sleep. It’s a bit later in the evening so there’s barely anyone around him as he makes his way to the nearest metro station that will take him home. Jungkook is just about to descend the stairs when something makes him stop. He’s not really sure what it is that he stops for; the bus honking on the street beside him or the group of friends laughing as they walk by him? Or perhaps it’s the person at the bottom of the stairs, their eyes looking down as they climb up, but Jungkook just knows that it’s you.

Well, he doesn’t actually know. He’s pretty sure it’s you. It feels like it’s you. But is that fate talking or just his hopeful heart? Jungkook decides not to say anything and slowly walks down the stairs. The bells will tell him if he’s right. Your eyes glance up and meet his and Jungkook sees them widen, but like him, you don’t say anything. Are you waiting to hear your own bells?

He shoves his hands deep into the pocket of his hoodie, eyes quickly darting away from yours to stare holes into the ground as he keeps walking. His heart beats faster with every step and he has to resist the urge to just stare at you point blank because he needs to know and-

He hears the bells. And it’s like a weight is taken off of his shoulders.

But he keeps walking. And you keep walking. And now Jungkook is panicking because why the fuck is he still walking? You’re his soulmate, he found you, so why isn’t he stopping? Jungkook tries to get his feet to stop moving, to just turn around and call out to you but he can’t. What would he even say? ‘Hey, you’? He doesn’t even know your name. ‘I think you’re my soulmate’? How disgustingly cliche. What if you don’t even care that he’s your soulmate? What if you’re already seeing someone? What if he’s the only one that can hear the bells for you and you hear them for someone else? What if-

“Um, excuse me?”

Jungkook almost trips on the last step from how fast he turns around at the sound of your voice. His hands feel clammy but he keeps them in his pocket otherwise you’d be able to see how they’re shaking ever so slightly. He drags his eyes up to yours and suddenly, every bit of anxiety he felt is suddenly gone. Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?

“Have we met before? You seem really familiar.”

You’re at the top of the stairs now but you step down a few steps, as if you want to get closer. Jungkook climbs back up a few steps because he does want to get closer. There’s an easy smile on his face as he says, “Found you.”

He isn’t sure where it came from. He isn’t even exactly sure what he means. But it feels like the right thing to say, like something that he’s vaguely remembering from a dream he had a long time ago. And judging from the matching smile on your own face, you know what Jungkook means.

“Took you long enough.”

#heartsforbts #kwritersworldnet #thebtswritersclub #ficscafe #jeon jungkook scenario #jeon jungkook fluff #bts fluff #bts scenario #bts drabble #bts imagine #jeon jungkook drabble #jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #kpop imagine #kpop scenario #bts au #jungkook au #jungkook scenario #kpop drabble #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine

[morganayenneferburnham]

Have I Known You 20 Seconds or 20 Years? – Nikolai Lantsov Series

Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angels Roll their Eyes

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33661984/chapters/83654680

A very short summary: Y/N has been working with the crows for a few years. Her life feels complete until she meets the insufferable Nikolai Lantsov. She finds herself forced to work with the King of Ravka on one of Kaz Brekker's crazy schemes.

Nikolai Lantsov. King of Ravka. He was privateer extraordinaire Sturmhond?

Word count: 2k

A/N:  So I wrote my first fic! Hopefully at least one person likes it! I just posted the first chapter today. The second one should follow somewhat soon ☺️I’m currently writing the third chapter!

Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angels Roll their Eyes

Nikolai Lantsov. King of Ravka. He was privateer extraordinaire Sturmhond?

Y/N couldn’t quite believe it. She had been a fan of him for years. Asking for the latest news on the voyages of the Volkvolny and its captain every chance she got. They were legendary. When Kaz had told her a few days prior that Sturmhond was going to be with them for a job she had barely been able to contain her excitement. Now, she was mortified. How could she work with a king?

Had she not been standing next to Kaz during the meeting she’d never have believed it.

“How long have you known, Kaz? I mean, I know you’ve worked with him before but…” her voice trailed off in a question.

“I figured it out when we first met.” His mind traveled back to that day. Meeting the privateer by the Geldrenner hotel’s baths, just a few years ago. They had been trying to save Kuwei Yul-Bo, a Shu inferni who’d had the misfortune of being the son of the fabrikator who created Jurda Parem, making him the most valuable hostage in the world. They had auctioned him off, faked his death, and gotten revenge on Jan Van Eck all at the same time. “The king of Ravka wouldn’t just let anyone represent his country in important matters. The fact that he always travels with at least one member of the Triumvirate doesn’t help him keep his identity secret either.” He scoffed. “He really should stop doing that.” Kaz sounded almost… annoyed?

“I take it you’ve given him that particular piece of advice and he didn’t listen?” She smirked. “Though, you know, I’m glad Zoya Nazyalenski tagged along. She is even more gorgeous than I thought.”

“He never listens. Almost as stubborn as you.” He huffed. The glare he gave her would’ve been enough to scare most people, however, she was not most people. She considered Kaz family, and she knew that Kaz did too, in his own way. They had both lost siblings to the city after all. She had joined his crew a few months after they had lost Matthias and Nina had gone back to Ravka. He had needed a new corporalnik and she had made fast friends with Inej, Jesper, and Wylan. As much as Kaz had tried to keep the young tailor at arm’s length, she had found a way to worm herself into his cold guarded heart. His look softened before he continued. “You should steer clear of her. She’s just as icy as she appears. Wouldn’t want you to get your heart broken before the job.” That was his way of showing he cared.

“Don’t worry, Kaz, I’m not looking to marry her. Maybe she’d be open to a bit of fun?” She laughed, throwing her long auburn hair over her shoulder, and made her way back to Jesper and Wylan down the corridor.

---

A few days had passed since they’d met with Sturmhond. He and Zoya had temporarily moved into the slat. Kaz had been cooped up in his office, wearing his scheming face most of that time. Everyone could tell Kaz’s plan was going to involve multiple steps and deceptions.

Since they hadn’t been working any other jobs, the crows had been left to their own devices for the first time in months. Kaz occasionally called on them for their expertise, but they had a lot more downtime than they were used to. They had taken advantage of it to get to know their new teammates. Y/N had mostly struck out with Zoya, though she had managed to make her laugh a few times, to everyone’s surprise. Maybe with more time, she’d have a small chance with Zoya? The young grisha had also tried to wrap her head around the identity of her favourite privateer. She now found herself sitting in Kaz’s office, Jesper and Wylan on her right and Sturmhond and Zoya on her left. Kaz looked all business, so serious she feared he’d give himself an aneurysm.

“I need you to tailor him. Once you’re done, you’ll tailor yourself.” Kaz nodded in Sturmhond’s direction sitting behind his cluttered desk, hands resting on his crow’s head cane.

Y/N looked up at Inej who had been sitting at Kaz’s window. “May I ask why? Hasn’t he already been tailored?” She gestured to the privateer before returning her hand to her lap. “He doesn’t look like the king of Ravka.”

Kaz rolled his eyes. “Why must you always question me?” He sighed. “Yes, he has been tailored, nonetheless, he is too easily recognizable as Sturmhond. I need you both to look like rich Kaelish merchants. It shouldn’t be too hard for you?”

“Of course not. You know there’s nothing I can’t do, Brekker.” She replied in Kaelish. She softened her tone before continuing in Kerch. “I’m simply asking you to share your brilliant scheme with us mere mortals” Her voice was laced with sarcasm. Inej stifled a laugh. It looked like the Suli girl couldn’t help but smile at the other’s antics.

Kaz groaned. “Fine, I’ll share my plan for the job. It’d be easier if you just listened. I’ll explain it once so pay attention – Jesper!” Poor Jesper jumped on his chair. He’d been staring at Sturmhond since they’d all entered the office. Y/N couldn’t blame him. The privateer did have an inexplicable charm despite his tailored features.

“Yes, Boss!” Jesper straightened in his chair and sent an apologetic look to Wylan.

“Alright, to pull this one off we’ll need blueprints that can only be found in Gert Van Verent’s safe. He keeps his office under lock and key – ”

“Wait, you want us to break into a councilman’s house, again? Why can’t you do it Kaz? You’re the best at picking locks.”

“Well, if you hadn’t interrupted me” he was glaring daggers at her now, his eyes the hue of bitter coffee “you’d know that two guards are posted outside his office, at all times” he’d emphasized the last part and raised a hand to stop Y/N from interrupting him again “and his windows are protected behind steel bars.” Y/N nodded once slowly indicating she was willing to listen with no more interruptions.

“Van Verent is throwing a party in the hopes of finding his eldest daughter a husband. Being a devout Kerch merchant, he is also using the occasion to find new business ventures. The party is our window of opportunity. That-” he gestured to her and Sturmhond “is where you two come in. Ainsley and Eoin Ó Ceallaigh, newlyweds from the Wandering Isle, looking to extend your exporting business to Kerch. I already secured your invitation” Y/N felt her jaw drop. No sound came out. All she could do was stare at Kaz. He had finally lost it. He wanted her and the king of Ravka to assume false identities and pretend to be married? Dirtyhands had gone mad.

Wylan was the one who voiced her concern. “Kaz? I know Y/N’s a talented tailor and well she is Kaelish so that part’s covered but, well, um, no disrespect Sturm-, Sir? Your Highness? But, um, do you speak Kaelish?”

The king smiled. He looked amused at Wylan’s confusion. He replied in perfect unaccented Kaelish “Call me Nikolai, it will make for less confusing conversation. Of course, I speak Kaelish, I have been educated in 6 languages. I also had a fondness for Kaelish poetry in my youth.”

Everyone seemed to relax at that. However, Y/N could tell she was going to need Jesper’s help to undo the knots in her shoulders later that night. “Kaz? I don’t think I’m that great of an actress… You also haven’t told us how we’re supposed to get the plans if we do get in.”

“Don’t worry darling, I’m sure we’ll manage. I’m talented enough for the both of us” Nikolai winked at her. Nikolai, who just so happened to be the privateer she had admired for years. She felt her cheeks flush. Saints, she thought, this is going to be a nightmare.

“Jesper and Wylan have also been invited to the party thanks to Wylan’s new position on the merchant’s council.” She had never been more grateful to Kaz for overlooking the interruptions. “They’ll cause a distraction, with Nazyalenski’s help, to let you and Nikolai slip past the guards and break into Van Verent’s office.” He stopped and looked at Y/N. “I know you can pick the lock and crack the safe. I trained you myself after all.”

The discussions and planning continued well into the night. Y/N wasn’t convinced it was such a good plan, but everyone else seemed on board so she kept her mouth shut. All she could do now was make sure to memorize all she could before the job. The party was two days away, which didn’t give them much time to learn all they could about their characters. Kaz had instructed Nikolai and Y/N to spend every waking moment working together to make sure they made a believable couple.

Twelve hours in, Y/N was cursing herself for saying she wasn’t a great actress. If she’d only pretended to be confident in her acting abilities, she might have been allowed to take a break from the insufferable king. Well, insufferable might have been a little dramatic but the man loved himself way too much. They had memorized their stories in the first 8 hours and were now being quizzed by Wylan and Jesper while she started tailoring them both, yet the King would not stop flirting with her. He also made sure to touch her every chance he got. A brush of his fingers on her cheek, of his knuckles on hers, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger. She knew it was just harmless fun for him. It was driving her completely mad. She just wanted him to take the job seriously.

“How did he propose?” Wylan asked for the third time in the past two hours.

Y/N sighed and moved her fingers through Nikolai’s hair to darken it. “It was incredibly romantic. He had planned a picnic by the lake where we met.” Her cheeks were already starting to hurt from the plastered smile on her face.

“I had all of her favourite foods, of course” Nikolai interjected, moving to softly caress the girl’s cheek.

Y/N had to restrain herself from slapping his hand away. “Yes, even strawberries, in winter! Can you believe it? Once the sun began to set, he dropped to one knee and pulled the ring from the picnic basket with a bouquet of winter roses. I’m so lucky to have fallen in love with such an attentive and caring man.” She turned to Kaz who had been observing them, leaning against the doorframe, and dropped the smile from her lips. “Was that satisfactory, Boss?”

Kaz shrugged. “It’d be better if you didn’t look like you wanted to stab him every time he touches you.”

Y/N released a breath. “Maybe if you’d let me take a break...” her tone was pleading.

Kaz smiled at that. He was finally wearing her down. Giving her a taste of what she’d put him through the last two years felt like sweet justice to him. He liked the girl well enough, but she had a way of getting on his nerves. He took no pity on her. “You’ll keep going until I actually believe you are in love with him.” He left the room with a pointed look at her.

Zoya released an amused laugh. “I’m just glad Nikolai found someone else to bother for a change.” She smiled smugly at Y/N. “Don’t worry, he’s mostly harmless. Just come find me if he gets too handsy, I’ll put him in his place for you.”

Y/N couldn’t believe it. Zoya had definitely sent her a wink before following behind Kaz. Maybe all her flirting had paid off?

“Sweetheart, I’m hurt, you are taking more interest in my general than in your own handsome husband.” Nikolai’s tone was toeing the line between mock hurt and amused.

She turned back to the three men in front of her. “Jesper, please, just shoot me.”

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai #king of scars #six of crows #kaz brekker #zoya nazyalensky #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #wylan van eck #my fic #ari's fic #have i known you 20 seconds or 20 years #nikolai series #leigh bardugo #grishaverse #nikolai lantsov fanfic

[peaceisadirtyword]

Heathen V (Ivar/Edlynn)

A/N: Hello! I might have gotten a bit carried away with this(?) Sorry😅 I hope it’s not too boring though🥺 I was just going to rewrite the ending and suddenly... I had 1000 more words💀 anyway, I hope you like it!♥️ In this chapter I talk about norse mythology and christianity, and even if I’ve read about it (norse mythology, at least) I’m by no means an expert, so I had to consult some friends and people I know that are professionals. In any case, I’m sorry if I wrote anything wrong, please tell and forgive me.

Btw, thank you so much for your messages! I’m feeling better now🥰 I watched some videos of Alex and Marco and I calmed down a bit! I suppose I just need to relax a bit, it’s okay, but seriously thank you for your messages and for always being so understanding with me💞🙏🏻

Warnings: talk about religion, mentions of violence, war and all that sh1t... Ivar is too perfect I’d like to marry him but, unfortunately, I can't 

Words: don’t hate me but there’s 5492 words under this... I hope it’s worth it (?)

Heathen Masterlist

gif belongs to @therealcalicali​

For Edlynn, it was both scary and hypnotizing to see Ivar learning how to read. He seemed to understand things quickly and even if they didn't really have any materials for him to practice writing, Edlynn saw him carving letters on wood more than once, like he did with the runes. In a few days, Ivar could understand some parts of the books, even if he still needed help, and Edlynn remembered bitterly how much time it took for her to learn basic words and how many times the priest that taught her and her siblings scolded her.

In return, Ivar agreed to tell her a bit more about his culture. He talked about the Gods, even showed some runes to her, she asked him to show her their longships, and was amazed by the carvings and the designs. Sometimes, she'd ask him to translate some words from English to Norse, and soon became obsessed with his language, trying to memorize everything she could for when she went back home. Mildrith would love it. 

"Can we go back to reading?" Ivar sighed, raising an eyebrow when Edlynn asked him to translate a few words more. He had spent the entire day with Hvitserk and was on a good mood, but he was also tired. 

"Yes, sorry" she blushed a bit, realizing her eagerness was probably improper "Just one more, please" 

Ivar nodded slowly. He found her excitement adorable, and he had to hold back a smile more than once when she tried to repeat some words with a soft voice. 

"How do you say sun and moon?" she tilted her head, curiously "It's true that they are Gods for you?" 

Mildrith had told her once that the northman she had been with had told her that they worshipped the sun and the moon, as if they were Saints or Gods. And, for some reason, Edlynn became obsessed with it. 

"Those are two words" Ivar smirked "But they are Sól and Máni, and they are Gods, yes, but slightly different from the Aesir and the Vanir" he shrugged "It's a long story"

Edlynn waited a few more seconds, maybe expecting for him to keep telling the story. 

"So the moon is a Goddess?"

Ivar hummed, nodding. 

"She's a woman, sister to Sól, the sun" he shrugged.

"That makes sense" Edlynn bit her lip, interested "But, how can you say they are a man and a woman? They're not humans" she smiled softly, amused "They can't be man and woman" 

"But they are" Ivar frowned "It's like that story of yours about the Virgin, I've heard that one before, how can you tell she was a virgin?" he shrugged. 

"Because God chose her to carry his son, the one who would bring His word to us"

"You christians are too obsessed with virginity" Ivar rolled his eyes. Edlynn felt her cheeks burn, and cleared her throat. 

"It's a sin not to be a virgin when you get married"

"Yes, I've heard a lot about those sins" Ivar nodded "And I still think it's ridiculous, why would your God demand that you deny the pleasure of having sex to yourselves?"

"It's an act of purity, of faith" Edlynn narrowed her eyes. She knew the northmen were much less... Traditional, with these things, and sometimes she felt somehow curious. It wasn't a topic that was very discussed at the court, and much less at home with her father... Once, Edlynn and Mildrith saw a couple on the stables and asked Hilda about it. The nun was so angry at them that she made them pray for hours, and then made them promise they wouldn't go around talking about it.

"It's stupid" Ivar shrugged "You would be much happier if you forgot about that"

The girl pressed her lips together, a bit bothered. Ivar's smirk showed he was trying to get a reaction from her, but Edlynn wouldn't start arguing. 

"I didn't expect a heathen to understand it" she shrugged.

Ivar chuckled, shaking his head. 

"I've spent maybe too much time around christians to understand many things, but I still believe your God is weak" he licked his lips "Compared to Odin and Thor, he's weak and demanding"

She ignored him, looking back at the books and parchments they were studying. Finally, Ivar stood up, making Edlynn raise her head as he walked over to the bed, and sat down to take his braces off. She watched as his fingers worked quickly on them, freeing his legs. When Ivar started taking his clothes, she stiffened, blushing again, and stood up to tidy the books and avoid looking at him. If she had looked, she would have seen Ivar's amused smile. 

"The day and the night are also man and a woman" he continued, startling Edlynn. She turned to look at him, curious, but turned around when she realized he was shirtless "What? Are you also not allowed to look at me?"

"It's not proper" she muttered, looking down. During the nights she had been sharing his tent, she always slept with her back turned to him, and usually she would already be asleep when he went to bed. 

"Do you want to hear the rest of the story or not?" 

Edlynn hesitated, but finally turned around. He was doing it to bother her, and wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing it was working. The sight left her breathless. Ivar was one of the most handsome men she had ever seen, but not only his face was beautiful; he was strong, she had already noticed it when he grabbed her for the first time. Edlynn tried her best to avoid staring at his beautiful hair, collected in braids and tied that fell down his back and shoulder. 

"Dagr is the day, and he's the son of Nótt, the night, Odin gave each of them a chariot that they can ride on the sky... And two horses, Skinfaxi and Hrímfaxi" his own finger pointed at his chest, which was crossed by dark lines. Those strange drawings on his skin were normal among the northmen; she had seen those on their arms, necks, faces... It was weird but she had to bite her tongue more than once to avoid asking about them. 

Ivar had also another one on his back. Edlynn couldn't see much, but from the few glimpses she had caught, it looked like a snake. The ones he showed now had an intricate pattern, and she frowned softly while looking at them. 

"They don't look like horses" 

That made Ivar chuckle, but he didn't say anything else as she approached him, her eyes still fixed on his chest. When she was close enough, she raised her hand slowly. 

"Can I?" 

Ivar tensed, but finally nodded softly. Edlynn didn't know what to expect when her fingers touched the dark ink, but was somewhat surprised by the feeling of his skin. It was warm and his muscles tensed under her touch when her finger roamed around his chest following the lines. It was hypnotizing, and she couldn't feel anything else that wasn't Ivar. 

She found his necklace. It was always hidden under his clothes, so it caught her attention. The question was written all over her face when she looked at his eyes again. 

"Mjölnir" he answered quietly "Thor's hammer" 

Edlynn nodded. She had heard about that, and thought it would be something like the cross that hang from her own neck. 

Finally, she moved her hand backwards, almost like she just realized what she was doing and was suddenly too shy to keep touching him. Ivar's eyes were still fixed on Edlynn as she turned around, getting away from him faster than he would have liked, and soon she was laying on her side of the bed, with her back turned to him and her body tense and stiff, not bothering to cover herself. 

______________________________

Edlynn was amazed by the shieldmaidens. She had heard about them more than once, since she was a kid, and sometimes imagined herself with a sword when she watched her brother, Edward, train with their father. But when she said it once, during dinner, everyone turned to look at her with widened eyes. Both her father and her sister reprimanded her; the battlefield is no place for women, you're needed at home, praying and taking care of the children. 

Since then, the thought hadn't crossed her mind again. 

She also saw the two viking women training when they were staying with King Alfred. They moved gracefully, and easily defeated male warriors, it was entertaining and interesting to see, and Mildrith and her would always sit and watch her, but always under the stern gaze of their fathers. Once, the blonde woman she had often seen with Bishop Heahmund offered them to try. Edlynn remembered the soft smile and how she approached them. She was sure her face lightened up, but as soon as she opened her mouth, Lord Eldred was behind her, he gripped her shoulder with maybe too much force. His daughter wouldn't go near a sword, he had said sternly. And the viking woman sighed, shooting her a sad smile before leaving. 

But in that camp, even with her wrists tied and three northmen around her, she was free to watch as much as she wanted. 

There was a group of many women, training with her swords, axes and shields. They fought fiercely, but laughing and hugging each other, and Edlynn was amazed. She barely blinked and didn't know how much time she had been there watching them. The women didn't seem to care, and she felt more at ease around them than around the men. 

But when she turned her head, startled by some other sounds coming from her right, something else caught her attention. The first thing she saw was Hvitserk dodging a dagger as he trained with another viking. She knew that dagger, and soon her eyes fixed on Ivar, who was leant on a tree and smirked softly. He had a horn on his hand, and his eyes shone as they only did when he was around his brother. Next to him, Edlynn saw some arrows and a wooden bow, an axe and another sword.

He hadn't seen her, and she stayed silent and still, watching. He was relaxed, laughing and had a playful smirk on his lips. In some way, he was even more handsome. Soon, he got tired of just watching and grabbed the bow and arrows, tensing it slowly. His gaze was fixed on the tree in front of him, and Edlynn couldn't help but stare at him as his whole body tensed. She remembered when her brother learnt archery, when his arms were always shaking. Ivar didn't move a single muscle until he shoot the arrow. 

"Don't miss, brother, you have an audience" Hvitserk's voice startled both Ivar and Edlynn, and when his eyes finally landed on her, his expression changed. She wasn't able to point exactly what changed, but Ivar barely looked at her. 

"See something you like, princess?" 

Edlynn felt her cheeks burn, and pressed her lips together when she heard the guards and some other men chuckling behind her, refusing to let them see her. Ivar also smirked, leaning to grab another arrow. 

"I was just watching" she muttered. Ivar looked amused when he turned his head to look at her. 

"Want to try?" he pointed at the tree. Edlynn hesitated, knowing that grabbing a bow and shooting arrows wasn't proper. But then again... There was no one there to scold her, right? And probably, if King Alfred reached an agreement with them, she wouldn't have to see any of them again. 

She nodded softly, feeling a strange rush of excitement like the ones she used to feel when she was little and did something that was strictly forbidden. Ivar nodded at the guards and they let her go after untying her wrists. 

"I don't think you have done this before, am I right?"

Edlynn narrowed her eyes at him and snatched the bow from his hands, making him laugh. It was heavier than she ever thought, and nearly let it fall to the ground. But she could already imagine how much the men would laugh if she dropped the bow. 

"Turn around" Ivar ordered, and Edlynn obeyed slowly, still hesitating and nervous because of all those pairs of eyes fixed on her, studying her every move. She wasn't a warrior, but a noble lady that lived  in a castle, so her movements were clumsy and not graceful at all. 

She startled and nearly jumped when Ivar's hands touched her waist. 

"What are you doing?" she whispered, widening her eyes. 

"Don't you want to learn?" Ivar shrugged, an innocent tone on his voice that Edlynn didn't believe. 

His strong hands moved her effortlessly, and she tried not to blush even more when she felt Ivar's body closer to hers. She could even feel his breathing behind her neck. 

Ivar worked in silence, making sure she was on the right position before taking a new arrow. Edlynn frowned when she tensed the bow and her arms started shaking, even if Ivar was the one that practically held it behind her. 

"Stop shaking" he scolded her, and Edlynn could hear some chuckles around her. Some of the shieldmaidens had stopped training and came to watch. The saxon girl making a fool of herself, how amusing. 

Ivar's closeness, his scent and his body practically wrapped around her weren't helping. Edlynn felt her heart beating faster and faster as his fingers touched hers to position them around the arrow. 

"Now" he muttered into her ear when he was finally satisfied "Loose"

Edlynn tried her best to point at the tree, but the arrow flew next to it and got lost into one of the bushes. 

Everyone laughed. She could even hear Ivar chuckling next to her ear, and her cheeks reddened again. She glared at them and scoffed. 

"It's fine, you'll get better if you practice" Ivar had a smile on his lips, but Edlynn couldn't say if he was mocking her or actually being nice. 

One of the northmen said something loudly in their language, making everyone laugh even harder. Ivar sighed and shook his head, but had that small smirk on his face. 

Narrowing her eyes, Edlynn reached for another arrow, making everyone stop laughing and look at her with an eyebrow raised. Ivar had an even bigger smile on his face when she turned to look at him. 

"I want to try again"

_______________________________

Mildrith was furious. She couldn't understand why they kept discussing God knows what in that tent when Edlynn was held as a prisoner in the enemies' camp. It was true that she was more calmed now that the scout came back and assured she was well and unharmed. Mildrith always knew her friend would survive; Edlynn was strong and smart, but she also knew they could have hurt her in many ways. Especially Ivar the Boneless. 

She almost shivered when she thought about him. Mildrith had always wanted to see Ivar at least once, to see if what they said was true, but to be captured by him? Her mind had replayed every single story she had heard about that heathen from the women of York. 

Even that young viking she had had a quick affair with had talked about him; he was the most letal of the sons of Ragnar, a monster. 

And King Alfred knew it! He had met him more than once, he had been fighting in York after the Great Heathen Army killed both his grandfathers. How he had allowed them to keep Edlynn for so long was a mystery to her. 

Hilda kept praying, kneeled at the feet of what one day was Edlynn's bed with a cross between her hands. Mildrith didn't understand what praying would do, God didn't help her before and it seemed he wouldn't help her now. She was also angry at Him. 

More than once, she had wished she could use a sword so she could enter the northmen's camp and free her. 

"Mildrith" the nun sighed. She had dark circles under her eyes and her voice sounded weak. Hilda had barely slept or ate since Edlynn, the little girl she had raised almost as if she was her own, had been taken. She prayed day and night, hoping she would be well and no one would hurt her in any way "Please, stop pacing around the tent, sit here with me and let's pray"

"I don't want to pray" the young, raven-haired girl, clenched her fists, glaring at her "I want them to get out of that tent and go find Edlynn"

"They can't do that" Hilda sighed, her trembling hands rubbing her own face "The king is doing everything he can, Mildrith, and you know it, he appreciates Edlynn a lot, but they're asking for a high price, and he must think about the rest of the country too"

Mildrith scoffed. She hated it, she hated politics, war and negotiations. She couldn't understand it. They were in their own country! They were stronger! Why couldn't they just raise a bigger army to go and free her?

"We have do something" 

"We can't" the nun shook her head "You know we can't, we can only have faith and hope she will be returned to us soon"

The young girl sighed, sitting down on the bed. She didn't want to have faith nor pray, she wanted her friend back. Her only comfort was to know that Edlynn would have many stories to tell, when she came back. 

___________________________________

"They're asking for all of that, for a young woman?" 

Alfred raised his head, narrowing his eyes at the man who just spoke. 

"They're not asking anything, my lord, they demand all of this" he explained, slowly "And Edlynn isn't just a young woman, she is a dear friend, the daughter of one of my most trusted advisors and the sister to one of the men that I trust with my life every day"

"They want gold" Lord Eldred sighed. He was pale and had lost weight, Alfred hadn't seen him sleep nor eat for days "A lot of gold... And land, more land?" he sounded desperate. 

"Yes, but separated from the land I gave to Björn and Ubbe Ragnarsson" the king rubbed his face "They also want a truce, some time to settle on our lands" 

"That's the part that worries me" Lord Eldred shook his head "Why do they want time to settle? Do I have to choose between my daughter's death and a possible invasion?"

"We don't know if they plan an invasion, my lord" Alfred shrugged "For now, I am trying to save your daughter's life before anything else" 

"She must be so scared" her father rubbed his eyes "All alone, surrounded by barbarians, God knows what they are doing to her"

"Our scout assured she was unharmed, Lord Eldred, I believe him" the king softened his tone "Ivar won't hurt her for as long as we don't anger him" 

"I will pay as much as I can" Lord Edmund spoke for the first time since the reunion started "To ensure my lady's safe return"

Her father looked at her with a sad smile. 

"Thank you, my lord" Alfred nodded "The messenger is out there, ready to leave for their camp to give them our reply"

"What do you say, my king?" Queen Elsewith put a hand on his shoulder. Alfred took her hand softly and sighed, looking down at the table. For days, he had been thinking about his decision, trying to find the best solution for all of them. If he agreed, there would be consequences, Ivar would know he had an advantage, many of his lords wouldn't agree with him. If he refused, Edlynn would suffer things worse than death before her head was sent to them, he was nearly sure of that. 

Edlynn was a good girl. Responsible, obedient and polite. They had played together when they were children, and he couldn't stop thinking that it was Elsewith whom they wanted. Would they have so many doubts about saving her or not if it had been his queen?

He sighed. 

"I say we agree" he nodded "And that we will meet them in the forest to give them what they want in exchange for Lady Edlynn"

____________________________________

Ivar's arms hurt. It had been a while since he practiced so much archery, and the muscles of his back and arms were already sore when he retired to the tent. His face also hurt from laughing so much, and he didn't remember when was the last time he had laughed so much, probably it was when he was still with Igor. He couldn't help but smile softly remembering the kid he had learnt to love as if he was his own son. 

Before entering the tent, he could hear Edlynn whispering some words in English. He supposed she'd be reading, as she used to do since he let her read the books freely. He had to wait outside to force himself to stop smiling like an idiot before entering. 

Edlynn raised her head and smiled softly when he entered the tent. In part, it was because of her he had had so much fun that day, he never guessed that teaching archery to a saxon girl could be that entertaining.

She was also tired. Her arms hurt and she only wanted to get into bed and sleep, but at the same time every time she closed her eyes, with her head leant on the soft pillows and inhaled Ivar's scent her mind went back to his hands around her waist, his breath on her neck and the soft whispers with which he had guided her. She even remembered the small smile she had seen on his face when she had finally managed to struck the tree and her cheeks would redden. Now, seeing him entering the tent leant onto his crutch with clouded eyes from drinking so much mead, laughing with his brother and even letting himself take a nap next to the fire, made her heart beat faster again. 

"How are you, princess?" the playful tone made her nearly sigh in relief. He was still in a good mood.

"Tired" she muttered "But fine, it was... Interesting, to use a bow" 

Ivar hummed softly, sitting down on the bed as Edlynn closed the huge book she had on the bed, leaning to leave it on the floor, next to the bed, she kneeled behind him and watching him as he fiddled with the braces. She bit her lip, not knowing what to say but wanting to keep talking to him. 

"The men were quite impressed with you" he said, not looking at her "A shame we don't have time, I'm sure we could turn you into a fine shieldmaiden" 

Edlynn tried to hide her excited smile. 

"Really?" 

This time Ivar turned around a bit. His amazing eyes fixed on her curving lips before landing on her eyes. 

"Yes, I think you have potential, it would be though, we'd have to work a lot with those little arms and small hands, but we could do something" he shrugged "But we can't, you're too eager to go back to your castle, your husband and your dresses"

Her smiled faded slowly as he turned away once again. It was true she really wanted to see and hug Mildrith, Hilda, Edward and her father, but at the same time, she didn't want to say goodbye to Ivar. 

At first, she had been scared, even tried to run thinking those heathens would torture and kill her, remembering all those stories she had heard about the ruthless Ivar the Boneless. But that playful, blue-eyed northman that she had seen giggling with his brother, telling stories about his Gods and who had guided her until she had finally succeeded with the bow didn't look like the monster they described on their stories. It was almost human; a human with his own beliefs and ambitions that wasn't so different from all those men she had met in England. 

"Lord Edmund is not..."

"Not your husband yet, I know, princess" he chuckled "But he will be soon, right? Even if I would advise you to reconsider that marriage, taking in consideration that he didn't came to this camp to cut my head off for taking his woman" 

Edlynn chuckled. She knew Lord Edmund couldn't really make that decision, besides, she didn't expect him to risk his life for a woman he just met. 

"I can't reconsider anything, actually" she smiled sadly "It wasn't my decision" 

Ivar raised his eyebrows, nodding slowly. Then he moved to take off his clothes, and Edlynn looked away with her cheeks flushed. 

"If I was your father, then, I wouldn't give my daughter to a man that wouldn't die for her" 

"I can't ask him that" she smiled, his words warmed her heart "He barely knows me" 

"Wouldn't you prefer to marry someone you loved?" Ivar got rid of his shirt, and Edlynn couldn't help but take a look of the dark lines of his back, shaped like a snake. 

"I..." she frowned "I will learn to love him, he's... He's good, a good man, he's nice and handsome and... I'm lucky that he chose me, I know many women that had to marry old men that didn't treat them well... Also, I don't know anyone who married for love" she chuckled. With time, she convinced herself that love was built, not found. All those tales Hilda had told her when she was little were fantasy. 

"I married for love" Ivar muttered, almost like he didn't mean for Edlynn to hear "I did love the woman I married"

She felt as if someone had kicked her chest. Suddenly, she stopped looking at him and felt stupid for even feeling sad about the fact that he had a wife. Of course he had a wife. 

Ivar groaned as he laid on the bed, covering his legs with the furs and closing his eyes as he relaxed against the pillows. 

"I didn't know you were married"

Ivar opened his eyes, looking up with what she could describe as a heartbroken expression. 

"I was" he muttered "Some time ago" 

Edlynn tilted her head with curiosity. 

"What happened to her?" she almost felt bad for asking, but Ivar didn't seem to mind. 

"She died" his jaw clenched "She betrayed me and she died"

"And... how was she?" 

"She was... Beautiful" he almost smiled, and Edlynn bit her lip, looking down "She looked like Freyja, she was blonde and had blue eyes" 

The opposite of me, she thought, and immediately felt stupid for even thinking it. 

"She sounds pretty" she smiled softly, hating that sad look on his eyes. Ivar then turned his head to look at her, and blinked slowly, almost like he was realizing something. 

"I've only loved three women in my life" he shrugged "And one of them was my mother" 

His face contorted again, almost like it pained him to think about her. 

"And who was the other one?" 

Ivar's lips curved on a smile. 

"The mother of my child" he muttered "She was a princess, like you, but she was mysterious while you are not" he chuckled. Edlynn glared at him, but ignored his comment once again. 

"I'm not a princess, though" 

"Because you don't want to" he shrugged "You could be a princess, even a queen, if you wanted to, you are pretty enough to conquer a king" 

"Me?" Edlynn giggled, blushing softly "No, I don't think so" 

"You would be a good queen" he insisted "You're strong and smart, you respect people" Ivar nodded.

"I still need to find a king" she shrugged "Still pretty impossible" 

"Lord Edmund could be your king" Ivar pronounced her betrothed's name mockingly, as always. 

"No" Edlynn shook her head "He's handsome, brave and good, but he couldn't be my king, nor my prince, I'd have to find another" 

The intensity of Ivar's gaze burned her skin. Edlynn looked away, and moved to lay down and rest her head on the pillows, sticking to her side of the bed as she always did. 

"I never knew my mother" she muttered, changing the topic before the tension on the tent escalated too much "She died not long after I was born... She was from Ireland, from a place called Dubh Linn, have you heard about it?" 

Ivar nodded slowly. His people had raided that place more than once.

"So she wasn't a saxon?" 

Edlynn shook her head. 

"Her father brought her here when his lands were taken from him, trying to procure a good future for her and marry her to a lord, my father asked for her hand... At least, that's what they always told me" she shrugged "Father always said I have her hair, and that I look like her... I think that's why he didn't want to raise me when she died, I think it was painful for him... But I can't complain, Hilda is great" Edlynn groaned and rubbed her eyes when she realized she was talking a lot "Please, forgive me, I talk too much" 

"No, it's fine" Ivar shook his head with a soft voice, he had turned to look at her, and he felt like he was looking at a goddess. Maybe it was the mead, maybe the exhaustion, but he couldn't help but move a bit closer to her. 

"My mother died too" he added "She was killed" he clenched his fists in rage "She always cared for me, she always protected me, even when my father wasn't there" he had a small, sad smile on his lips as he remembered the, sometimes suffocating, love his mother had showed him "And I miss her everyday" 

Edlynn nodded. Even if she didn't remember her mother, she also missed her. And in some way she wished she could have had such a relationship with her, maybe she would have been able to explain to her what was that thing she felt, laying down on a northmen's bed and looking at him closely. 

"You and I aren't so different, then" she pointed out, smiling softly. Was it her or they were closer now?

"I suppose we are not" the thought seemed to amuse him "Even if we worship different Gods and speak different languages" 

When Ivar turned his head again, Edlynn was so close he could feel her quick breathing on his lips. It was nearly as intoxicating as the mead he had drank. 

Ivar's hand reached to caress her hair, making Edlynn shudder and gasp, almost like she realized what she was doing. 

"Is it not... Inappropriate to be so close to a heathen, princess?" he teased a bit, enjoying the way her cheeks turned red once again. 

"At this point..." she sighed, barely able to think about anything that wasn't Ivar "I don't really care" 

That made him laugh and his grip on her hair tightened. Edlynn wasn't lying, she couldn't think about God or anything that weren't his blue eyes and his lips parted. Without even thinking about it, she leant in while closing her eyes, and didn't stop until she felt his warm lips against hers. 

Edlynn had never kissed anyone, unlike Mildrith and some of the girls at the court, that were stolen a kiss or two in the stables or in a hidden corner of the castle. She never looked at the boys, too occupied with her books, her prayers and other important things. But she could understand now what the priests meant when they talked about temptation. Ivar's lips were addictive, better than anything she had ever tasted, and ignited something inside her that she couldn't recognize. 

The kiss was slow, passionate but also shy. They stopped kissing for a moment, but she had barely opened her eyes when Ivar's hand cupped her neck, his thumb caressing her cheek softly before he leant in again. And Edlynn had to put her hand on his warm chest to balance herself, moving her lips against his and leaning more and more into him, feeling like she would die if she wasn’t as close to him as possible. 

When they finally broke the kiss, none of them opened their eyes. Ivar was panting, one hand secured against her neck, to keep her lips close to his, and the other one had landed on her waist when she had leant into him almost straddling his waist, and his heart was beating so fast it was almost scary. Her forehead leant into his and Ivar sighed. It had been a long time since he had felt that warmth inside him. 

________________________________________

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#ivar imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar ragnarsson #vikings #ivar x ofc #vikings imagine #heathen

[hansolmates]

the proposal (m)

banner done by the ammmahhzzing @eerieedits​

summary; Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. pairing; editor!Jungkook x assistant!reader (f) genre/warnings; the proposal!au, fake marriage au, enemies to friends(!!!), friends to lovers, bouts of flangst, dry humping, slight blood but not too bad, lang, alcohol, poor jjk discovers he has the ability to feel emotion, poor y/n is in the middle as always w.c; 20.1k of endless banter and koo hiding his romantic side a/n; yeah, it’s almost summer. But i think we need a lil holiday magic in our lives! I rewatched the proposal this weekend and whipped this up. Why is koo so gosh darn easy to write? This is my longest fic since i wrote maze runner back in 2014!! i rec this extension to get fully immersed in 2pov! Enjoy and pls tell me if there’s any errors im too poopied to proofread it again drabbles; 01

“When I hired you, you basically signed a contract that said you’d do anything for me.” 

“Yeah, Jeon. I did. That meant like, getting you coffee or working late hours—normal work stipulations,” you can feel the hair on your scalp growing thinner, “not commit fucking fraud!” 

Your boss looks moreso frustrated than you are, but you cease to care. Jeon Jungkook has been nothing but a thorn in your side since your employment at Big Hit Publishing two years ago. Being a budding author who wanted to graduate from online sites and freelancing, you accepted the job as the editor-in-chief’s assistant in the hopes of getting your first book published. 

However, your dreams of being an editor are quickly dissipating, especially when Jungkook corners you this afternoon and announces that he may have left America during the time his work visa was still processing. He may have to give over his editor-in-chief position because there’s no way he can get a work visa processed in time. As a result of this information, he may have told his supervisors that you seduced him on a late night one year ago, and you two fell in love and have been secretly engaged ever since. 

Because y’know, your citizenship to this country is an asset to the company. 

“We didn’t have to go to Norway to PR Emma Watson’s autobio,” you huff, fingers going pale from how hard you were gripping your iPad. Jungkook is an esteemed workaholic, and you have no idea where it stems from. You remember that trip to Oslo, Jungkook insisting that you and him both go to make sure everything goes smoothly.

“You weren’t complaining when we went to that restaurant with the open bar.” he runs a hand through his coiffed hair, making the pomade untack from its style. “You got so drunk that Emma held you while you cried about global warming.” 

Wholly unamused, you frown. “Jungkook, can you please take this seriously?”

“I’m taking this seriously, you’re not the one who’s about to be deported in two weeks!” Jungkook hisses, face dangerously close to yours. Not that anyone would know what he’s saying, but you can tell from his defenses that he genuinely is nervous. 

“You wouldn’t be deported if you had just set an earlier appointment to renew your Visa!” 

“I wouldn’t be deported if you had just set an earlier appointment to renew my Visa!” 

At least twenty pairs of eyes are watching your confrontation, probably making their own conclusions as to what you two were fighting about again. Curse this office for having full-walled windows, you often feel like an ant in a plastic farm. Your work relationship is an anomaly to the rest of the staff. Before you started working at Big Hit, Jungkook’s assistants did not last long. Within the first week of working, you understood why. 

Jungkook whirls around his desk, glaring at the glass doors as he puts himself between the staff and you. “If you don’t marry me,” he says lowly, close enough for his hot breath to fan your face, coupled with his fresh-scented cologne. It annoys you how good he smells. “You’ll also be replaced because they want to give the my position to fuckin’ Karen of all people,” you fight the twitch of your lips. The only thing you two mutually agreed upon is the hatred of his co-editor, Karen. “All of the late nights we’ve worked together, the gallons of coffees you consumed, putting up with my shit, your dreams of becoming an author,” his eyes flicker to the way the grip in your iPad trembles, “will go down the drain and turn to shit. Whether you like it or not, we’re in this together.” 

Pretending to be unfazed, you bat your lashes, “So are you saying, you need me?” 

“For fuck’s sake—”

“Ah-ah, Jungkook. I’m not going to ask you to get on one knee, but you should at least tell me how much you need me.” 

You assume with great confidence that the only reason you’re kept on Jungkook’s payroll is because you’re not afraid to stand up to Jungkook’s bullshit. He looks positively disgusted at the mere thought of paying you an iota of a compliment. You’d say on average, you get half a compliment a month from Jungkook. You say half because he’ll compliment you, then downplay it with whatever flaw he can fabricate to get under your skin. 

He loosens his lavender paisley tie, annoyed. “Fine. I need you. I need you because you’re the only one who knows me well enough to be my wife. You’re the only woman I’ve had full conversations with in two years and knows all my dietary restrictions, favorite books, foods, and hobbies. By process of elimination, you are my best candidate.” 

“Romantic,” you roll your eyes, “I guess I do,” you push him away with a finger to his chest, “but I want a raise. And after we finish Sorn and Mark’s project, I want you to read my novel.” 

“Done and done.” 

“Well Jeon, I guess you’ve wifed me up with your ways of seduction.” you muse sardonically, feeling more upset for yourself than anything. 

“Fantastic,” he sighs, finally throwing his tie across the desk and plopping in his armchair. “Cancel the call with Janet, call PR about Irene Kim’s interview on Ellen, and order me a medium rare steak from J.J. Bittings with a side of brussels.” 

“Right,” you mutter under your breath as you pull up your checklist, as if you didn’t just give away your life to the Devil incarnate. 

Jungkook’s back is already facing you, focusing on his computer displaying two new manuscripts. “Oh, and on your way to J’s don’t forget to pick up your ring at Saks.”

“Bitch, you’re asking me to pick up my fake wedding ring?” 

Unbothered, he shrugs. You see the planes of his shoulders stretch beneath the blazer, because he’s deemed this conversation long over and he has work to do. “Yeah, but it’s real diamonds.” 

You’ve been seeing red for days. 

While the rock on your ring finger is indeed beautiful because Jungkook has impeccable taste, it drags you down and arouses the elephant in the room everytime you show up for work. 

You get enough stares on the daily, and you were just getting used to the looks of pity and sympathy for working under Jungkook, but now there are only snickers and playful winks as you trudge down the cubicles every morning. Everyday feels like the runway at a shitshow, and you are the headliner. 

Taehyung clapped you none-too-hard on the back when you showed up to work the next morning, congratulating you on the engagement. “Can’t believe you’re fuckin’ the big boss!” 

The rest of the staff poke their eyes out of their cubicles like Digletts, and you shush them, using your hand to make them sink down. 

Coffee is spilling down your shirt thanks to him, and you reach for tissues in his cubicle. “Can you not say it like that, please?” 

“Oh, come on. I heard from the supervisors Jungkook went on about how you seduced him late at night and took charge,” Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows approvingly, and you fight the urge to not throw up your coffee in his face. “How do you keep it so professional? Or do you save all that pent-up energy for after hours?” 

“You disgust me,” you grimace, stepping out of his cubicle and immediately regret wasting your five-minute break conversing with the typist.

Striding back into Jungkook’s office, he doesn’t hesitate to rattle off the next items on today’s agenda. He barely looks at you when you stride in, too focused on whatever corrections he’s slashing in red ink. 

“Did you get Taemin’s second draft?” 

“No, and I told him that if he can’t get me the draft by tonight he won’t get a publishing deadline and the number of copies published will be decreased by a third.” 

“And Taehyung’s author agreed to our stipulations?” 

“Of course, she’d be dead not to.”  you mutter, “she’s a nineteen year old Influencer, what would she know?” 

“Exactly, that’s why we milk it out as long as we can.” Jungkook throws the first draft in a large, intimidating pile, mixing in with all the others like a needle in a haystack. “Which is why it’s important we snag dinner with her this weekend, we can really—”

“What, this weekend?” your sense of equilibrium cracks, and you walk forward to put his hands on his desk. “I took this coming week off for Christmas. I’ve planned this for months.” 

“I know.”

“I can’t just cancel my flight! I saved up for that!”

“And?” Jungkook brushes off your fury like a piece of lint, “I’m Korean. Christmas is a fake holiday for me.” 

“You can’t just tell me I can’t go home to my family, it’s the fucking holidays!” 

“Why not, I’ve done it before. Remember on Valentine’s day when I told you the only date you have is a date with Kwon Boa’s publicist? Or on Secretaries Day when I argued that you don’t feel appreciated by society anyway and therefore why bother taking one extra day off? Or during Easter when your family screamed in my office on speakerphone that you should quit—”

“Okay,” no need to be reminded of how much you’ve wasted your life for this man, “but this is different. I’ve already bought plane tickets and this holiday is special. It’s a whole family reunion in the Poconos and we’ve reserved over five houses to fit all of us! I can’t just ditch!” 

“But I need you!” he replied just as hotly, in a tone that reminded you so many times of how tethered you are by this man. Two years have gone by, and the only thing that kept those strings together is the constant ache in getting your first novel published. “With all the marriage stuff and stupid extentions we had to make on these writers there’s no way we can get everything done before winter ends!” 

“You’ve done it before, why can’t you just ask Taehyung to assist—”

“Trouble in paradise?” 

A chill travels up your spine, and you and Jungkook exchange panicked eye contact. A tiny, pretty blonde lady struts in the room like it's hers, plopping a fruit basket atop Jungkook’s manuscripts. 

“If by paradise you mean our relationship, then no.” Jungkook’s the first to recover, meeting you at your side and stretching an arm around your waist. “I’d say work-wise things are getting a little rough, but nothing we can’t handle. We’re a team, after all.” 

“I just wanted to stop by as I was in the neighborhood,” the woman says, making herself comfortable in a leather seat reserved for guests. “Congratulations again on your engagement.” 

You tack on a smile, squeezing Jungkook’s arm a little too hard, but it’s enough to make the lady in front of you smile back. “What brings you here, Taeyeon?” 

Kim Taeyeon is Jungkook’s immigration liaison, AKA the person responsible for making sure you’re not breaking the law. She’s a pretty thing, with eyes sharp but a smile that’s soft and deceiving. 

“It’s just a shame you two have to rush a civil wedding,” Taeyeon sighs, looking at the window overlooking the city. 

“Ah, it takes some of the planning stress off my back, really.” you force a laugh, tugging Jungkook to sit on the couch opposite her. “At least one thing is done. The thought of planning a whole wedding with over two-hundred people is so stressful.” 

You weren’t really going to have a white wedding with Jungkook (however you may have entertained the thought, which is reflected in your Google search history) but you had to keep up the ruse that you were. A civil wedding in two weeks, then a quickie divorce a year later. 

“I know! My wedding was a real mess let me tell you, straight out of a movie!” Taeyeon is certainly the type of person to make you feel at ease, so at ease that it’s simple for you to melt your front. “But besides the point, are you two doing anything special for the holidays?” 

“Ah, well I bought a flight to meet my family in the Poconos,” you start, trying not to succumb to your nervous habit of wringing your fingers. You grab Jungkook’s hand as a reprieve. 

“And you’re not going?” Taeyeon’s gaze snaps, yes snaps, to Jungkook. 

You try to step in, realizing your flaw. “We’ve just been so swamped with work, all the immigration stuff and with these book delays Jungkook suggested he stay behind—” 

“But we’ve decided to prioritize our personal life and enjoy Christmas with our family,” Jungkook swoops in, threading his fingers between yours. He flashes Taeyeon a smile, and from the way his face lights up and his nose crinkles, you could’ve mistaken it to be genuine. “I’ve never experienced a big family Christmas, y’know. I’ve missed snowboarding too, I used to do it a lot in highschool.” 

“Oh, that’s just so sweet!” Taeyeon cooes, clasping her hands together. “Do send some pictures when you come back!” 

“Of course,” Jungkook stands up and attempts to leave Taeyeon out. You follow in tow, She obliges easily, mentioning something about just wanting to check in and she also has work to do. 

“Also,” Taeyeon’s head flickers to the people sitting outside Jungkook’s office. “You should manage those workers out there,” she looks at you, sympathetic. “Apparently, they didn’t peg you as the type of person to sleep their way to the top. And that’s just what I heard from walking down the hall once!” she laughs, tinkling brighter than a windchime, but you just tighten the grip on Jungkook’s palm. “Such a childish assumption. Things can be much more complicated.” 

She tips a “happy holidays” off her shoulder, and you both are smiling like the loving couple you are. As soon as the elevator doors close and Taeyeon is really gone, Jungkook moves to let go of your hand, but you hold him in your grasp. 

“She’s onto us,” you snap, tugging him closer to you so your co-workers wouldn’t read your lips. 

“Don’t you think I know that?” he bites back. He looks offendingly at the fruit basket adorning his desk. 

“What if we get caught, Jungkook?” you start to spiral, feeling your deepest fears crawl to the forefront of your brain. You’ve done extensive Google research on commiting fraud, and if you do get caught, Jungkook will never be able to come back to this country and you’ll have a fine of up to $250,000. Your boss doesn’t pay you nearly enough to get by with that kind of debt. “We’ll ruin this company, and our lives, and any hope of being published or credible.” 

“Hey, relax,” Jungkook whispers in your ear, the tone oddly comforting. He pulls you into his arms, and you barely have a chance to recover when he squeezes you extra tight around your waist. Jungkook only ever hugs you when doing PR, and even then it’s an awkward half-hug. Hell, he never hugged you on your birthday. “This is what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna book my flight to the Poconos, bring some manuscripts so we can work remotely, and no one will ever know.” 

You sigh into his arms, nodding tiredly. It feels nice to be hugged like this. His arms are strong and warm, and you feel small and protected. It’s been a while since you’ve felt like that. Maybe Jungkook did have a heart under all that muscle. 

“I’m putting up a good show, aren’t I?” he says, and you feel your heart drop just a little. Disappointed, but not surprised. 

From your view facing the cubicles, you see at least half the employees comically bugged with  heart eyes at you, enamored by your fake relationship. 

“Do not stretch your long-ass legs on this plane, Jeon,” you nudge your smaller leg away from your section of leg room, “Jesus, we’re flying economy!” 

It scares you how little you fought against Jungkook joining you for the winter holiday. It is the logical decision after all, Taeyeon is on your trail about your sudden engagement and you both needed to keep up the ruse. That includes going on family vacations. Also, the fact that Jungkook works through Christmas because he doesn’t celebrate it does make you feel a little bad. You can’t remember the last time the man took a vacation. 

The man in question barely moves at your weak attempt, and stretches his leg even further across your seat. “Sorry, babe,” he says, fishing around his seat for the included blanket. 

“It’s fine, Kookie.” You reply sweetly, and decide to kick off your shoes to drape a leg over Jungkook’s thighs, “you’re like a portable footrest!” 

He looks absolutely insulted at your objectification, but smartly decides to choose his battles and lets you keep your position. Tucking himself in with a scratchy blanket he waves you off, “Whatever, just wake me up when we arrive.” 

“What, no.” you pull up your iPad, shoving the note entry in his face. “I know everything about you, and yet you know nothing about me. I made this easy on you and just wrote everything down. You just have to read it.” 

“Seriously? I’ve known you for over two years, I’m sure I know enough about you.” 

“Really, then how do I like my coffee?” 

“Uh… hot?” 

You give him a look and he knows. With a sigh he grabs the iPad from your hands. Within seconds he’s giving you another dirty look, as if he’s skimming a conspiracy novel. 

“You know all this random shit about me?” Jungkook asks, scrolling down as to what feels like your life story. 

“Yes, because unlike you, I listen when you talk.” 

“Fine. What’s my favorite type of weather?” 

“A warm and sunny day, which correlates to your favorite kind of date which is walking along the beach at sunset. Cliché much?” 

“Okay, rude. Who’s my favorite artist?” 

“You like a little bit of everything, but since seventh grade you’ve been pining for IU. In the office, you like to sing along to Lauv and Hozier.” 

“Favorite movie?” 

“The Marvel Series. But you really like 5 Centimeters Per Second, you like the romance.” 

“And how do you know my favorite anime movie is 5 Centimeters Per Second? I’m pretty sure I’ve never told you that.” 

“Jeon, when we were promoting Momo Hirai’s self-help book at Anime Expo you were gone for two and a half hours at 1:50 sharp.” your boss’ Adam’s apple bobs and he swallows thickly at your admonition. “And low and behold, you gave yourself thirty minutes’ time to line up early because when I checked the schedule Makoto Shinkai had a panel on ‘The Otaku’s Perspective on Romantic—”

“Alright alright, I get it.” Jungkook slumps in his seat, as comfy as it can get with your legs draped around him and a seat at the far end of the plane. You know he’s trying to hide a blush, and you feel proud for making him a little flustered. “You’re lucky I’m a fast reader.” 

The plane ride goes relatively fast, with Jungkook asking quick questions about your family and other random things. It’s like playing a game of 20 Questions, instead it’s the final boss battle with 200 questions and if he doesn’t get them all right, the penalty is deportation. 

When you land, you’re both stiff and glazed over. Once you exit the terminal, Jungkook ditches you for the bathroom and says he’ll meet you at the luggage pickup. You give yourself a few moments, gearing yourself up for the long week ahead of you. At the luggage pickup, you see a tall man watch the revolving conveyor belt with interest. Either that, or he’s zoning out. 

“Joonie!” you cry, nearly dropping your phone upon seeing your big brother. He’s dressed comfortably in a grey sweat ensemble, as if he rolled out of bed and came straight to the airport. 

A bright grin takes over his face, and he doesn’t hesitate to smush your body against his. Under his tall frame you sway, your toes barely swiping the ground. “You’re alive!” he cheers, pulling back and holding your shoulders to get a real look at you. “I can see you’ve gained a little weight, eyes are a little dark, but I’m glad the Devil let you go. I still can’t forgive him for making you skip out on Jin’s wedding.” 

You don’t appreciate the way that Namjoon picks and prods at your exhaustion, but you know he means well. While he does not know your boss by face and name, he had enough artilerary from the billions of phone calls to learn about the Devil and the havoc he’s wreaked upon your life.

When you don’t respond he gets the cue that you do not want to talk about work this week, and he smacks his lips together. “But nothing a little R&R can’t fix! The ski resort nearby has a really nice outdoor jacuzzi and we could set an appointment for facials if you’d like. Or we could do absolutely nothing and turn into baked potatoes and watch movies until our eyes burn up.” 

“Both would be great,” you smile softly, catching two familiar suitcases make their rounds on your flight’s conveyor belt. You grab your pink luggage with one hand, and Jungkook’s black chrome one with your other. 

“So, where’s the new beau?” Namjoon rocks back and forth on his heels, hoping to get a glimpse of the mystery boy you mentioned you’d be bringing as of two days ago. 

“He really had to go to the bathroom,” you squint your eyes to make out the newcomers exiting the dropoff area. “Oh, there he is. Kook!” 

Like a goddamn model, he struts in your field of vision like nobody’s business. Unlike you who stayed in your apartment all day before leaving, Jungkook decided to spend a few hours at Big Hit in the morning to tie up most of the loose ends before your trip. He’s talking to what you assume to be is a client, noting the way his brow furrows as he clutches his phone with a tight hold. He’s changed out of his tie and leather oxfords, but he’s dressed crisply in a dark button up and blazer ensemble, still wholly overdressed for a family reunion. 

Namjoon starts behind you, “He looks...” 

“Handsome?” you goad, elbowing him, “Charismatic? Undeniable presence?” 

“Hard.” 

You don’t know what to make of that adjective, and you subtly shrink further in your jacket as you mull over the implications of his word choice. 

Jungkook steps up to the two of you, ending his call. His eyes float between you and your brother, and he manages to put two and two together. “Hey man,” Jungkook gives a practiced smile, extending a hand. “I’m Jungkook, I’ve heard lots of things about you.” 

“Good things, I hope.” Namjoon chuckles, returning the handshake. “I’ve heard absolutely nothing about you, though. Can’t wait to get to know you this week.” 

“Looking forward to it,” Jungkook takes his luggage and Namjoon grabs yours, leading you two out to his minivan. While Namjoon is preoccupied with getting the car started, Jungkook looks at you as if he’s already regretting making the trip down. “This girl has two braincells to her name. I just got off the phone with Sorn’s publicist.” 

“What trouble can an influencer do?” you reply in disbelief. 

“Exactly, influencing is the trouble,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “she did some mukbang and now she’s in the hospital for food poisoning.” 

“Ah, don’t get too worked up,” you help him lug your suitcases in the trunk. You spot Namjoon subtly eyeing you two from the rear mirror. Pressing a thumb between his brows, you make work to melt away the 11-shaped stress lines on his forehead. “Let’s just send her a Lush gift basket and she’ll be fine.” 

You ignore the way Jungkook’s gaze lingers on you longer than needed, running over to your seat at shotgun. 

The inside of his car smells like bergamot and lemon, and the sweet, vulnerable side of you wants to cry over how much you’ve missed your brother’s scent. It’s been way too long. 

Once you’re all safely in the car and driving Namjoon says, “So, are you going to hide the engagement ring or give the family a collective heart attack?” 

You tense, hands automatically floating to the teardrop diamond weighing heavily on your ring finger. The story that you two contrived about your relationship isn’t too complicated, but complex enough that it seems convincing. Instead of being your boss, Jungkook is your Literary Agent who gives you referrals to new and upcoming authors. You working closely together and bonding over the stresses of the publishing world, have kept a secret relationship under wraps for over a year to avoid any unprofessionalism or favoritism. 

“I was thinking about that the whole ride, actually,” you twirl the metal back and forth, watching it gleam in the light. “Mom and dad know, but I don’t wanna lie to the rest of my family. They’ll freak out because it’s the first time they’re meeting Kook and we’re already engaged. It’s just a location thing, y’know. You guys don’t live in the city so we’ve never had a chance to really talk it out.” 

Namjoon snorts, “Or, because your boss never gives you a break.” 

If Jungkook finds any offense, he doesn’t show it. Putting what should be a comforting hand on your shoulder, he says from the back seat, “I already told you babe, do what makes you comfortable. But I don’t want to lie to your parents early on, you don’t wanna make the situation any more complicated.” 

In other words, you better tell them about our engagement because Taeyeon could be hiding in the bushes waiting to catch us. 

“Smart man,” Namjoon says shortly, but you can’t tell whether it’s a compliment or not. 

“Yeah,” you exhale, turning to smile stiffly at Jungkook, “no use hiding the inevitable, right?” 

The next couple hours are overwhelming. There’s a party right when you walk in your winter villa, your parents throwing you a reunion party (not for your family, but for you specifically because you’ve been MIA since Big Hit) with the house filled to the brim with family members. Within seconds your favorite cousin checks out the rock on your finger and screams that you’re engaged. 

Everyone must be so high off the fact that you’ve made it to a family event that they’re elated you have a life outside of work. Jungkook is treated like a prince, charming the hell out of all your aunties and baby cousins. 

“Oh, pumpkin!” your auntie squeals, linking arms with you while you’re trying to eat your dinner, “I just hugged your fiancé, and he has abs! Lucky you!” 

“Auntie,” you hiss playfully, “you hugged him that tight?” 

“He’s part of the family, isn’t he?” 

“Right,” you force a smile, downing your glass of champagne. The bubbles burn your throat pleasantly. 

“Babe, can you come here for a second?” Jungkook manages to swim his way through the throng in the living room, holding out a hand for you, “your mom said that our room is ready, care to lead the way?” 

His smile, as pretty as you can care to admit, renders your aunt speechless, and she lets him whisk you away to a long hallway that leads to a set of bedrooms. Jungkook lets go of your hand as soon as you're alone, letting his palm run along the pictures that decorate your hallway. 

He stops at a picture of you and Namjoon as kids, faces tanned and lips cherry red from your twin popsicles melting on your hands. “Wow,” Jungkook pretends to be alarmed, “I didn’t know you used to be cute, what happened?” 

“Shut up,” you smack his hand away, walking ahead of him. 

“I thought you guys reserved a bunch of houses, why does the furniture look worn and there’s pictures of you everywhere?” 

“Our extended family has reserved houses, but this is actually my family’s vacation home. I used to go here every winter and summer break,” you reach a bedroom in the corner of the hall, smiling at your wooden name tag hanging on the front, “this is my old room.” 

It certainly doesn’t have that youthful charm it once had, but there are still bits of your childhood scattering the room. There’s ticket stubs and photobooth strips tacked to a corkboard near your desk. Books that you would reread cover to cover are organized proudly on your shelf, worn for wear. 

Jungkook groans in relief, plopping his body down on your freshly made bed. “Your family’s really clingy.” he sighs, throwing an arm over his eyes. 

You turn to give him a snappy answer, but it dies in your throat when you see what he’s laying on. The familiar family quilt sinks under Jungkook’s weight, mocking you. You shriek, throwing your arms over to lug his body to the other side of the bed. Bundling up the quilt in your arms, you glare at a very appalled Jungkook. 

“The hell is wrong with you, woman!” he cries, not loud enough to escape the room, but enough to have your body vibrate in annoyance. 

“Jeon, they put the fucking baby blanket in my room,” you mutter more to yourself than him, folding it under your arms. 

The blanket is comfy in your grasp and you’re sure it’s clean, but the fact that you weren’t actually married and in love made its appearance a whole lot worse. 

“So?” his eyes are wide in confusion, “my mom still has my baby blanket too, I’m not gonna shoot anyone because of it.” 

“It’s not my baby blanket,” you admonish, “it’s the baby maker blanket. A weird family tradition when someone gets engaged.”

“Which means?” 

“They’re expecting us to fuck and have children.” 

The thought of procreating and starting a family with you must’ve caused all the champagne to return to his throat, and he looks a little pale. “I think I’m gonna be sick.” he lies back down on your mattress, and you leave him be so you can chuck the blanket back in your parents’ room. 

You’re barely out the door when a young man is waiting out in the hallway for you, poised to knock. “Hey, baby girl.” they throw you an easy lopsided grin, opening their arms to you. 

In your haste, you slam your bedroom door a little too loudly. “Yoongi!” You let yourself sink into his waiting arms, reveling in the familiar embrace you missed so much. Yoongi is Namjoon’s best friend and work buddy, not to mention the man you’ve had a crush on since you were able to walk. While you can safely say at this moment there is nothing serious going on, a small part of you always wishes there could be. 

His voice husks in your ear, “Why are we hugging in between the baby blanket?” 

“Oh!” you brush past him, opening the door to your parents’ room and flinging the offending item as far into their room as possible. “Sorry, Jungkook and I were a little freaked out when we saw it. We’re definitely not thinking about children right now.” 

“Jungkook,” he hums, and your smile falters just a tad when you see the way Yoongi tips his head down in thought, “It was quite the news. Congrats though.” 

You want to say what you’re supposed to say, that yes, you should be happy. But the selfish part of you does not want this exchange between you and Yoongi to be happening. When you get your quickie divorce in a year, the small, hopeful part of you hopes you and Yoongi could be something. 

Before you have a chance to fabricate a response, strong hands encircle your waist, and you feel Jungkook’s chin digging into your shoulder. 

“Thanks, man,” Jungkook’s voice rumbles, “we really appreciate it.” 

Yoongi gives a nod, muttering something about catching up later before he walks back to the party. 

It’s then that Jungkook’s weight feels impossibly heavy on your shoulders. “You know, you’ve been doing a really shitty job of being my wife-to-be ever since we landed,” Jungkook whispers, feather soft lips dusting across the shell of your ear. It’s an act so intimate you can imagine your family passing down the hallway could be mistaking you two for speaking unthinkable acts. A toddler cousin spots you two and giggles, babbling something to your uncle about how you’re hugging. “You did so well when we were with Taeyeon and Big Hit.” 

“It’s not the same when I’m lying to my family,” you turn to face him, equally simmering. “These are people that actually love and care for me, unlike you.” 

“At least I care about what’s most important,” he grits back, “our jobs, our futures. Is that not enough for you to keep it in your pants?” 

“Excuse me? You don’t even know him!” 

“I don’t have to know him because I’m holding you right now and you’re practically sweating through your cardigan.” he grimaces, digging his chin further into your collarbone, literally trying to get under your skin. “Your face looks like a cherry tomato.” 

You turn your head to bite back, your noses touching. The staring contest seems to last for days. Unlike Jungkook who doesn't know how to register basic human emotion, you still have hopes for a life after this. Before you have a chance to answer, your favorite cousin enters the hallway, oblivious to your concerns. Jimin’s red all over, passing you two flutes of blush champagne. “Hurry up, we’re making speeches!” 

Champagne is overflowing like Niagara, and you and Jungkook are the reason for it as you’re thrusted into the living room. Your weird uncle is in the middle of a long-winded speech about his fishing business and how dreams are made from ‘bait and a dream’. You make eye contact with him, and he gestures wildly to you and Jungkook. 

The crowd proceeds to go wild, echoes of speech! Speech! Reverberating throughout your living room. You and Jungkook share uneasy smiles, unsure of where to go with this show. 

Deciding it’s your family by blood, you start first. “Honestly, when I moved to New York I wasn’t expecting to feel so lonely,” you clutch your flute with both hands, swirling your drink absentmindedly. You then turn to Jungkook, giving him a tender smile which he returns back just as fondly. “Until I met Jungkook. I’m really happy that I get to share this week with the people I love the most, so let's drink to family!” 

Jungkook lifts his glass, “Thank you for the warm welcome, I can’t wait to spend time with all of you. This is my first Christmas with a large, loving family. Cheers to that!” 

The room erupts in cheers, allowing themselves to clink glasses and chase down their respective drinks. Even the little ones crowding the kiddie table in the back are enjoying their apple juice while making silly faces at the new couple. 

Jungkook weaves his arm between yours, and you get the signal to do a couples’ drink. He eyes you with mischief, as if to say we did it. After you two take your drink, Jimin’s the first to drunkenly yell, “Ohmygod just kiss already!” 

“Kiss kiss kiss!” 

“This is going on my story so make it good!” 

“Kiss him before I do!” 

“Oh my god,” you groan, throwing your forehead on Jungkook’s chest. Your family really is something else. 

As if the chants can’t get any louder, it’s hard to focus on anything but Jungkook’s presence. Jungkook lifts your chin up, murmuring, “Let’s give the people what they want.” and he presses his lips to yours. 

It’s awkward at first. Why wouldn’t it be, you’re making out with your boss, in front of your family, pretending to be engaged. But Jungkook doesn’t let up, parting your lips slightly to deepen the kiss. As much as you want to make up how terrible and disgusting kissing Jungkook is, it really isn’t. His lips are soft and he tastes like the peach champagne, and his grip on your waist is strong and warm. 

He leaves you breathless when you pull away, a smirk on his lips for a brief moment before he turns shyly to your family who are probably foaming at the mouth now. 

Maybe it’s the champagne coursing through your veins, but why does it suddenly feel so hot in the middle of winter? 

The first day back starts off wholly uneventful, with Jungkook working on some manuscripts and you preparing dinner with Jimin. Most of your family is on the resort hitting the slopes, so you’re quite thankful for the reprieve since the party was so overwhelming. The blonde is all smiles as he bumps the oven closed with his leg, letting your lasagna bake to perfection. 

“I’ve missed you so much,” Jimin rests his head on your shoulder, “it’s definitely not the same when we’re adults. Frankly, it sucks balls.” 

“Big balls,” you agree, gnawing on a leftover baguette from last night. 

“Speaking of big balls,” Jimin wiggles his brows as you attempt to move farther from him.

“Please don’t say it.” 

“C’mon! Just tell me if the sex is good!” 

“No!” you cry, flicking your crumbs at him. 

“I will open this oven,” his hands are already on the handle, “and your dish will undercook.” 

“Don’t you dare!” he opens the oven a tad, and you slam your hand down. “Fine! The sex is fantastic, happy?” 

“Ewh, no!” The storm door swings open, revealing Namjoon, Yoongi, and Lisa, Namjoon’s lady friend. “I didn’t need to hear that, thanks.” 

Your face looks absolutely pained as you watch the two older men walk in. They were the last people you’d ever want to share about your sex life too, even if it is fake. You can only bear to look properly at Lisa as they kick off their boots and shake the snow off their heads. Lisa pokes her tongue in her cheek, looking at you with a wild look in her eyes. “I’ve heard so much about your current drama. Can’t wait to hear the 411 from you, though.” 

Yoongi looks unfazed, then again you never really know what’s going on in his head. “You guys wanna go to a movie tonight?” Yoongi asks, grabbing a slice of the baguette and dipping it in a dish of olive oil. “I think the one that’s showing is based on a book your company published.”

“Is it ‘Rotten Love’?” 

“That’s the one.” 

Pushing yourself off the counter, you nod eagerly. “I’ll go tell Jungkook to get ready. We can eat dinner real quick and then go right after,” you grab a bottle of water from the fridge, “Joonie, set up the table please.” 

Jungkook doesn’t notice you walk in, and you can hear the faint sound of Muse blasting from his Airpods. He’s on your floor, doing pushups while reading a transcript under him. This time he’s using your iPad, every few seconds taking a thumb to scroll down. Sweating through his shirt, you can see the beads running along his silver reading glasses. It’s completely contradictory, your muscle bunny of a boss getting in his reps while psychoanalyzing a potential novel, but somehow it works with him. 

“Maniac,” you mutter, bending down to place the cool water bottle on his cheek. He stops abruptly, like you’ve pressed the pause button on his seemingly robotic arms. Seriously, you can’t fathom how he manages to do both. You swipe the iPad under his body in place of a white towel, which he accepts gratefully. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to snap him out of it, sometimes you’d catch him at the company gym nearing 10PM, reading on the treadmill. 

“What time is it?” he asks, fluting the water bottle down his throat. 

Ignoring the way his neck glistens in sweat, you say, “It’s almost seven. C’mon, we’re gonna eat dinner and watch a movie. You’ve cooped yourself up in this room all day, time to interact with the world.” 

“What movie?” 

“The book we published in 2018, ‘Rotten Love’? They made it into a movie,” and you can’t help the wry grin that takes over your face when you say your next words, “guess who directed it.” 

He sighs, rubbing the towel over his damp hair. The normally styled strands fall limply at his forehead. “I don’t remember, I shifted over that project to PR. Any director’s fine, but please please please don’t let it be—”

“Jung Hoseok!”

“Son of a bitch, we gotta go.” And it’s the first time in a while you see a genuine smile graze his features, one not laced with you and your marriage. It’s an old pastime for you both to get picky over Jung’s work. “I swear, he better not put his scenes all over the place like last time, I got whiplash.” 

After a quick dinner you all pile into Namjoon’s minivan, making your way to the theatre. The drive is fast, and before you know it you’re waiting in line to get inside. It seems that the PR between the film studio and Big Hit did a good job assisting, because there’s a sizable line despite being half an hour early. 

“So honey,” Lisa leans into you, squishing you further into Jungkook’s shoulder. “Did you like, help out with the publishing of this novel? To be honest I don’t even know what your job is,” Lisa admits with a shrug, “you’re not a glorified coffee girl, are you?” 

“No,” her mixed enthusiasm never fails to stump you, “Ah, but I really didn’t do much in the production of ‘Rotten Love’,” you reply easily, relaxing into Jungkook as he moves to drape an arm around your shoulder. “I just told my boss to sign some documents n’stuff. It’s really nothing—”

“Babe, are you kidding? You ran the whole freakin’ project!” and you’re in shock, because for the first time in the history of ever, Jeon Jungkook is paying you a real compliment. “It was her first assignment when she got hired as the big boss’ assistant. A lot of people in the office doubted her,” he squeezes your shoulder, “but not for one second did I doubt her, you could see how hard she worked to make it perfect. I heard the boss was really impressed, too.” 

You remember that period of time. Jungkook made you dive headfirst into the publishing for ‘Rotten Love’, letting you sink or swim in his decision for keeping you employed. After a full month of meetings, negotiations, and debating whether you should have caffeine IV’ed in your body to save time on eating, you got Jungkook’s evaluation. You remember the stoicism in Jungkook’s frame as he surmised your work, throwing you a flippant “it’s decent” before sending you off to do more work. 

Relief flooded your system after those two simple words, because that meant you had a chance and you could keep your job. But this? If what he’s saying is true, you’re on Cloud 9. 

“Awh, thanks Kook.” you squeeze his arm, letting your fingers trail down to lace your fingers with his. 

Lisa’s face is all scrunched, and she doesn’t hesitate to stretch over you to smush Jungkook’s cheek between her two fingers. Her blue nails dig into his soft skin. “I like him, honey. Keep him, he’s so cute.” 

She leaves you alone after that, skipping over to bother Namjoon about buying an extra bucket of popcorn. 

“At first I was nervous having you near my family for a week,” you say brightly, rubbing a thumb over his hand, “but I kinda like seeing you try so hard to not rip other people’s heads off.” 

He puffs out his cheeks in an attempt to soothe the stinging. “Could be worse, I could be engaged to Karen.” 

With that you laugh, loud enough to turn heads and have Jimin and Lisa send you adoring looks. Jungkook sends you a nervous smile, the one that he’d always send you during team meetings when he was unsure of how to respond to something. Instead of giving him a smart answer, you get on your tiptoes to pat his reddened cheek. “But she’s right, you are kinda cute when you wanna be.” 

Instead of replying, he squeezes your hand tighter to lead you inside. 

Everything is smooth sailing after that. You, Jimin and Yoongi are saving the seats while Jungkook, Lisa and Namjoon are getting the refreshments. Jimin is prattling on about a new job interview and you’re listening attentively, while Yoongi shoots off advice every time Jimin says he’s nervous. 

Yoongi looks past Jimin to give you that gummy smile that always made your chest ache. “Chim, remember when she applied to work at Jamba Juice?” 

“Oh my god,” Jimin giggles, clutching your arm. “When you had to do a trial run in front of the manager? You forgot to put the lid on the blender and you sprayed the staff with green juice?” 

“The stains took forever to get out,” you pouted. “And I didn’t appreciate the snaps you saved of me. I got nervous because you were recording me!” 

“Am I hearing some juicy details about your childhood?” Jungkook appears, passing a huge tub of buttery popcorn to Yoongi. 

“Emphasis on juice,” Yoongi says tartly, popping a handful of kernels in his mouth. 

“Yes, do you wanna see a picture of your fiancé covered in green juice? She wore a low-cut shirt that day so it got deep, man.” Jimin says, using his hands to gesture obscenely to his own chest. 

You’re mortified, and you push down Jimin’s phone and cover whatever receipts he has on you. “Jimin, I’d like to stay engaged, if you don’t mind?” 

Your not-so-favorite cousin cackles in response, telling Jungkook that they’ll talk later. 

“Here,” Jungkook cooly hands you a King-Sized KitKat. 

“Awh,” you marvel, immediately opening the wrapper, “you actually read my notes and found out what my favorite candy was?” 

He scoffs, dark bangs blowing up. “Who doesn’t like KitKats?” but you’re giving him the look, and he sighs, “C’mon babe, just gimmie a break.” 

“Ha-ha,” but you break off a piece anyway, lifting it to Jungkook’s lips. It’s then that the theatre starts to dim, and the telltale signs of the movie begin. “Ready to rip Jung Hoseok to shreds?” 

“Always.” 

Barely fifteen minutes pass and Jungkook is spreading his legs. You’re about to kick him before he leans in to whisper, “They made Renee too dull,” he sighs in disappointment, as if he sincerely had high hopes they’d bring the novel to justice. “I mean, I get it, in the novel she’s supposed to be a plain Jane. But she isn’t grey.” 

“Right?” you lean into Jungkook, throwing your legs over his thighs like you’re back at the airport. This isn’t out of intimacy, you think to yourself, you just need to be close enough to Jungkook so you don’t disturb the other patrons with your talking. “She’s either a bad actress or they messed up her character. I really got upset when I read this part, but it’s kinda bland on the screen.” 

As much as you love Jimin, you know he’s not going to get your over-criticality over the media. Yoongi and Namjoon are on the other end of the row, but they wouldn’t be too pleased having you gab over the movie because you’re too much of an aficionado. Jungkook is the only one who can tête-à-tête, or in this case, Kit-a-Kat with you. 

You sigh into his shoulder, inhaling his clean scent. “Let’s pray Jung didn’t completely butcher the chapter where Kenzo reflects on his penniless journey.” 

“I’ll leave the theatre right then and there if that happens, care to join me?” 

“Already out the door, bossman.” 

Jungkook looks away from the screen briefly, reaching forward to take an obnoxiously big bite of the KitKat in your hand. You stifle a giggle, and before you can soak up his cheeky grin he’s already looking back at the movie. 

You wonder what Jungkook is like outside of work, if he has that side to him. A little part of you wishes that this playfulness he’s exuding is real. Not to your fake marriage, but a playfulness he can execute to a person that he really likes. Two days out of the office and you’re starting to see that Jungkook has the capabilities to enjoy life, however simple it may be. 

The movie is finished in a blur, and you and Jungkook are still bickering over the intricacies of the film compared to the novel. The night air is cold and burns your cheeks, reminding you exactly how late you’ve been out.

“Well, I thought the romance was so boring!” Lisa blurted, wanting an in. Her lime green ski jacket glares in your vision, and you move away from her immediately. “No one cheated on each other, there was no drama, or evil best friend!” 

“Whoa there,” and you see the little fire in Jungkook’s eyes, one you’ve learned early on to stay away from when you spent hours in his office debating over manuscripts and plotlines. He stares down at Lisa, really stares down. “You think every romance needs some sort of internalized conflict for it to be good? Why can’t they just grow and learn from the external conflict together? It’s literally useless for them to break up over and over just—”

And that’s your cue to walk ahead of them, because while you did agree with Jungkook, you’ve heard this debate one too many times. Ever the closet-romantic at heart. You hope Lisa doesn’t lose her patience and punch him out. 

“Hey,” you feel a hand pat your hair, and you look up at Yoongi. He looks absolutely fluffy in his long puffy jacket, and he matches your steps with his. “Do I look ugly tonight, or something? I feel like we barely exchanged two sentences with each other.” 

“What, never!” you chastise, “you always look good, Yoongi. And we have the whole week to catch up, remember?”

“Really, then why don’t we go out in two days to pick out a tree for your house? Joon and I are planning on going.” 

“I would love to go pick a tree!” you exclaim, “the last time we got a tree together was when your brother had to lift.” 

“Great,” and he pats your head again, but this time his hand lingers to finger the ringlets of your hair. “It’ll be just like old times, baby girl. I’ll pick you up at 9.” 

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Jungkook’s argument ended minutes ago and he’s mulling over a new type of internal conflict. 

“Owie, ow, ow—fuck you! Ow!” 

“Well if you just hold still,” Jungkook grimaces, taking his turns with both hands to simultaneously wipe the injury with a cloth and then pressing the affected area with an ice bag. 

“Buh ih hurths!” your voice is muffled by the cloth, stained red with freshly bloomed blood. 

The ski lodge started off great. You enjoyed a fabulous beligan waffle breakfast courtesy of Jimin’s parents, and then made the trek to the slopes. You’ve been here dozens of times, so you didn’t feel an inclination to gravitate to any of the fancy schmancy sports. You were fine playing shuffleboard inside, but your inner youth complained that it’s the holidays and you should be getting out more.

Jimin and Jungkook (who claimed he hasn't snowboarded since he was 16 yet he’s doing tricks like a goddamn Olympian) were shredding on the slopes while Namjoon and Lisa were skiing on a smaller hill. You and Yoongi watched safely from the lift, riding it like a kiddie attraction. You must’ve taken the lift at least ten times, complaining about how you’re both too lazy to function and you could really use a hot chocolate and a fireplace. 

After the fifteenth time on the lift, legs numb, you stumble over with heavy boots to where Lisa and Namjoon were waiting for Jimin and Jungkook. They wanted to walk around more and see if they could try a more difficult slope. 

While you were waiting, you had to admit that Jungkook did kind of cool all decked out in his gear. A competitive, playful smile was easily reflected in his gaze despite his helmet and goggles. 

That slight admiration is knocked right off your feet when Jungkook speeds by way too close for comfort and you’re in his path. Jimin had already slowed next to your friends and family, looking at you in anticipated horror.

It’s far too late, and despite the fact that Jungkook manages to pull your body to his while you wipe out, your face crashes into his helmet and you taste metal. 

Mildly disoriented from the impact, Jungkook’s muffled string of curses nurse you back to a decent consciousness as he tries to carry you to the lodge.

“Holy shit, I got that on camera!” Jimin cries, gesturing to the Go-Pro nestled in his helmet. 

So now you’re in pain and it’s all Jungkook’s fault. Your bottom lip is split, and the burn on your face won’t go away. 

You watch as Jungkook dotes on you, his bangs pushed up everywhere due to his grey goggles haphazardly being propped upon his forehead. His pink tongue sticks out as he concentrates on not getting blood on your sweater. It’s just you and him that are stuck around in the lodge after you got pummeled, standing by the fire while everyone else continues on with the fun. 

“Why were you over there anyway, in the middle of the slope?” he scolds. 

“It was the slow down zone, Jeon. You were the only one not slowing down, you speed demon.” 

“Sorry,” he says gruffly, pressing a little too hard with the ice and you wince. He lets up and presses the cloth to your lips to soak up the moisture.

“Did you say something?” 

“I said, I’m sorry.” 

You sigh dramatically, “I wish I had a camera to save that shitty excuse of an apology.” 

“Speaking of cameras,” he shucks his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. “Jimin uploaded the video.” 

That man, you don’t know where he has the means to quickly upload and edit things, but if it’s for the ‘Gram, it’s worth it to Jimin. You open Instagram and immediately click on @chimmyboi’s story, immediately wincing as the first few seconds reveal the brunt of the impact. He should really put a disclaimer before uploading content. 

The tumble between you and Jungkook doesn’t look so bad, but it’s when you get up does it look gnarly. Your chin is dribbling in red liquid, and Jungkook’s throwing off his helmet and goggles in a panic. 

He makes a half-assed snowball where you’re lying on the ground, pressing it against your mouth. With his other hand he pulls you into a sitting position, not caring that you’re staining his clothes as he hauls you on his body. 

“Ohmygod,” you splutter, trying not to move your lips, “I look like I got decked with a hockey puck.” 

“It wasn’t that bad, don’t be a baby.” Jungkook sees the piecing glare you give him, and he sighs. “Okay, it looked pretty bad. I was a little worried back there, but now the bleeding pretty much stopped and holy shit—stop smiling! You’re making it open up further!” 

“You were worried?” 

“Shut up.” 

The ice bag is watery and not doing much anymore, but Jungkook still insists to cool your face down. You lift a hand to his cold ones, attempting to take the bag and cloth from his grasp. 

“You should go board with Jimin and the rest of them. I can take care of this.” 

“It’s fine,” he reasons, reaching for the ice bag but you hold on tighter. 

“C’mon, I know the only thing you were looking forward to this entire trip was going snowboarding. I’m a big girl, I can be alone for an hour or two.” 

Jungkook locks his jaw, gnawing at his cheek as he mulls on his decision. “Wouldn’t I look like a bad partner if I leave you?”

“Nah, this has happened before. Almost always someone gets injured on the trip. Last time something like this happened I was eight and I got five stitches on my leg. This is nothing. You’re fine.” 

“But still.” 

“Fine, you wanna make it up to me?” 

You scan the room for any ideas, and it settles on a trio of girls huddled by the register of the built-in café. They’re pretty snow bunnies, decked out in sweater dresses and fur lined boots. They remind you a little of The Powerpuff Girls, all in pastels and attached to the hip. Their gaze has taken hostage in Jungkook’s frame, blatantly ignoring the fact that majority of his attention is directed towards you. You wonder why you haven’t noticed them sooner, because now the staring is getting borderline discomforting. 

Slipping off his goggles with your free hand, you gesture subtly to the girls. “They think you’re hot. Go flirt with them a little and get me a free drink, I’m sure they’ll pay for you.” 

He doesn’t understand the correlation, “Why would I do that?” 

You shrug, separating the strands of hair that stick to his forehead. “Lisa and Namjoon do it all the time when they go clubbing. They compete and pretend they’re single for like two hours, and then they keep a tally of how many people offer to buy them a drink.” 

“That is completely different, but I’m open to trying it when we get back to the city.” he acknowledged briefly, getting up from his crouching position. “I got a better idea.” 

Puzzled, you watch him saunter over to the register. Like bees to the honey, the girls follow Jungkook with their eyes, watching him exaggeratedly mull over the menu. 

He spares the slightest of head inclinations to the drooling trio, “Hello ladies.” The smile is not flirtatious, but kind. 

You suppress a giggle, burying your chin in your scarf as you watch the whole interaction. You don’t even know why you asked Jungkook if he would flirt with those girls, as he kept most of his dates private over the years. You picture a college-aged Jungkook getting his daily breakfast on his way to class, ignoring the way his presence attracts heads. 

The barista hands Jungkook a tray filled with a plastic cup of ice, and a cup filled with something hot, and a chocolate croissant. He grabs a straw from a tray, stabbing it in the hot drink’s lid. 

“Excuse me,” one of the girls coquettishly puts her hands behind her back, puffing her chest out as she leans over Jungkook’s order. “The regular croissants actually taste better in my opinion.” 

“Well my wife’s had a hard day, so I think she deserves something sweet.” 

He doesn’t even turn around as he makes a beeline to where you’re seated on a loveseat, carefully placing the tray on the coffee table. 

“Your better idea was making them jealous?” you ask, unsure of his intentions. 

He shrugs, “College-Jungkook always wanted to show off his girlfriend like that, so indulge me for a second, alright?”

Rolling your eyes you reply, “My life is about indulging you. Don’t forget the trips I’ve made to the grocery store when your personal fridge was out of banana—”

“I thought I said we don’t speak of those hard times,” he cuts you off, “ever.”  

You stop him from filling up your ice bag with the ice he brought. “C’mon Jeon, you’re burning daylight out there. I got this. You’ve stalled enough, go have fun in the snow with Jimin, you adrenaline junkie.” 

He scrunches his nose, but relents when you throw him his jacket and goggles. Before he pulls on his gloves, he cups your face with both hands to pull you in a kiss. His hands are cold from the ice, gluing you in place in fear of him kissing you too hard. But it’s barely that, a brushing of lips so tender as he takes extra care with your open lip. 

“Is this also a self-indulgent request?” you pucker, “who knew there was a hormonal teenager under that editor-in-chief’s body.” 

His eyes flicker to the audience in the back, and you don’t need to look behind you to note that they’re glaring daggers in your head. It’s like you’re straight out of a rom-com. 

“You’re leaving me to the bunnies,” you say teasingly. 

“Then hurry up and get better so you can join us,” he taunts, “or else you can’t help me bury Jimin in the snow.” 

It’s a tempting offer that makes you down your drink so you can enjoy the rest of your day. 

Light seeps through your windows, rays kissing your eyelashes and willing them to open. You groan, hand splaying out to wake up Jungkook. When you find his space empty and cool, you sit up and search for your fake-fiancé. 

He’s on the floor, smack in the middle of his morning workout. Your iPad is under his body, and somehow he’s managed to find a setting where the document scrolls for him automatically. He’s not wearing his Airpods, so you rasp, “Jeon, you’re crazy. I get the morning workout, but you don’t have to look over any more transcripts. I think you’ve read enough for this week.” 

“It helps me ignore the burn,” he says shortly, and you see the ripples of his back flex with every push-up. “And I wouldn’t have to do so much reading if my assistant would just do her job.” 

“I already told you, I’m not working during my vacation.” you throw off the sheets, padding to your closet. “I’m going to pick the tree today. You should go to the mall with my mom and Jimin to pick out some new ornaments.” 

“What?” he gets up, and you ignore the perfect view of tight muscles decorating his abs. Exactly how long was he awake for to have sweat clinging to his shirt? You’re going to short-circuit and it’s barely 8:30. “But I wanna go help pick out the tree.” 

“You don’t have to do that, Joon and Yoongi got it.” 

“Yoongi, really? You think he can carry a tree?” 

“This isn’t a pissing contest, Jeon.” you settle on a burgundy Patagonia jacket and grey leggings. “Besides, Yoongi and I are just friends.”

“You sure about that, baby girl?” 

You whip around to poke at his chest, and you ignore how smug he looks. “Do not test me, Jeon. Like you said, I’m with you every step of the way in this marriage. I’m not going to jeopardize that over some childhood crush.” 

“Wow, your life is really turning into a Wattpad entry,” he admonishes, “fake-fiancé still pining over his older brother’s best friend, really high-qual stuff.” 

“I’m serious.” you grit, “I took a week off so I can get away from you and that was ruined, so I would like a little bit of space today.” 

And that gets Jungkook to back away. His face deflates a little, and you feel a little guilty for making him upset, but you stab that thought down and convince yourself that he deserves it. It’s not like he cares about you, he just wants to show off to the boys.

“Fine,” he turns around to put on a fresh shirt, and you almost notice the pout marrying his face. “You could’ve just told me you wanted space. I’m getting kind of tired of you too, you know.” 

He flops on the bed and you huff in reply, quickly throwing on your attire inside your closet while he watches a YouTube video. You check your phone, and at 8:59 a knock is at your door. Jungkook doesn’t bother to get up to answer, and you open the door to see a sleepy Yoongi with a paper cup in his hand. 

“An English breakfast with two sugars and a dash of milk, baby girl.” 

You mask your wince at the pet name. It hadn’t bothered you when you were young, but its starting to feel coddling now that Jungkook is making you hyper-aware of the attention. “Perfect,” you faux-beam, the hot beverage warm your fingers. 

“I’ll just warm up the car and—”

“Babeeeeee,”  the deepest, sexiest voice echoes from your bed and out in the hallway. He sounds absolutely tempting, and needy. You freeze at the way your boss can so easily pretend he’s exhausted and wanting you, “come back to bedddddd. I’m not done with you yet.” 

Yoongi’s ears are red, “Aaand, I’ll let you finish whatever business you have.” 

The older man bolts out of there, and you snap your head back to look at an innocent Jungkook. He tilts his head at your bout of anger. 

“You know, I have half a mind to fling this tea down your shirt.” 

“What?” he looks at you like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “He can’t be the only one who can call you baby.” 

Honestly, you didn’t mean to lash out on Jungkook like that. You did need to put up a face as you were each other's significant others, but it doesn’t mean you have to be together all the time. To top it all off you’ve been feeling weird as of late, and you can only attribute these terrible feelings to a certain brunet who’s been sleeping in your bed. 

But you pin these feelings for another time, because you need to enjoy what little quality time you have with your brother. 

“Hey, whaddya think of this one?” It's just you and Namjoon picking the tree, and Yoongi’s sitting in the cabin keeping warm. He said to call him once you’ve decided, since it is your house. 

“Hm, it’s fine.” you shrug, inhaling the pine. “Maybe a little too tall.” 

Namjoon nods, and you follow him to the next row of greenery. He’s been pensive this whole time, and you have a feeling he’s hiding something. Surrounded by pine and the fresh winter air he says, “Hey, I just wanna say sorry.” 

“Why, did you like that tree over there? I don’t mind it, we can go back!” 

“What, no? I’m sorry for being weird around Jungkook.” 

“Huh?” sure, you noticed the weird language and terseness he gave Jungkook initially, but you chalked it out as big brother issues. 

You two continue to walk around the forest aimlessly, not really tree hunting. 

“I was just upset that the engagement was so sudden,” Namjoon starts, and you feel the guilt start to set camp in your stomach. “And I don’t know, at first he just didn’t seem like your type? I always thought you wanted to date someone gentle, someone you could hold and depend on. He looked so serious, and maybe a little immature.”

“He is a little immature,” you agree softly, digging your boots in the snow, “but I don’t love him any less because of it. We’re growing together.” Shit, why was that so easy for you to say? 

“Figured,” and Namjoon stops to place a hand on your shoulder, “I see the way he looks at you, and you can’t fake love like that.” 

Namjoon’s admonition is so convincing that you almost convince yourself that it is something. 

Something is bothering Jungkook, and he doesn’t know why. 

It’s not the billions of charges he made on his credit card for new ornaments, because it simultaneously inflated his ego and impressed your mom. 

It’s not the way Jimin hangs onto his every word and doesn’t let up, because it is refreshing to have your cousin find a genuine interest in him. 

Jungkook, Jimin and your mom have been taking laps around the mall for the past hour. They’ve floated around here and there, picking out whatever catches their eye for the tree. 

Jimin’s in the middle of explaining the Jamba Juice story when a glimmering window display catches his eye. 

“Hun, have you not bought her a present yet?” your mom says over his shoulder. 

“No,” he exhales, embarrassed that he just admitted he didn’t think of getting you anything in front of your mom. “She doesn’t ask for anything, really.” Besides her book published, a raise, and a potential promotion as editor, but they didn’t need to know that much. 

“Good thing you’re with the right people!” Jimin cheers, ushering him into the jewelry store. 

Funny enough, he knows exactly what to get you. Once he points it out, Jimin and your mom “ooh” and “aah” respectively, agreeing that what he chose was perfect. If you had asked Jungkook a week ago what kind of jewlery you like, he’d give you a dumb look and say “something shiny.” But that’s what’s bothering him. He just walked right into the store, saw what was right, and everything just clicked. 

Jungkook pins that thought for later, because once their shopping is done they’re back at your villa, arranging the ornaments and detangling the lights that have been holed up in the closet for eleven months. 

Jimin and he are sitting on the living room floor, stabbing thread through popcorn. He really only saw this craft in the movies, and the small part of him is amazed that you and your family go through the hard work to make your holidays so warm. 

Your mom appears from her bedroom, clutching something in her hand. She sits in front of Jungkook, a huge smile on her face. 

“Before you say anything,” and it strikes him how similar you are to your mother. There’s that tone he always receives before he gets new news, or the way you’re eager to share something that will make him happy. “I don’t want you to think this is a luxurious gift or anything. But I realized that you don’t have a wedding band so I went through my old cases and found this.” 

She opens her palm slowly, revealing a simple black band. 

Jungkook’s lips part to form words, but his vocal cords betray him. At first glance, this ring could’ve been mistaken for one of Jimin’s plentiful rings adorning his fingers. Upon closer inspection however, Jungkook notes that this band is thinner and more worn. The metal looks strong and old, the slight scratches and faded color revealing that it was a well-loved piece of jewelry. 

Your mom is offering Jungkook a wedding band. 

“If you don’t like it, that’s okay!” your mom says quickly, nerves radiating because of Jungkook’s silence. “It was my grandfather’s. Don’t feel as if you have to accept it. It’s not a wedding band persay, but I think it matches and it looks about your size and we didn’t get you a Christmas gift so—”

“It’s perfect.” Jungkook tells her firmly, sending him a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you, I guess we kind of rushed the engagement so I didn’t think of getting a band of my own.” 

Your mother is grateful, dropping the ring in Jungkook’s awaiting palm. “I think my daughter should be the one who puts it on you, don’t you think?” 

“Right,” he echoes, and he just stares at the ring in his hand, feeling weird in his chest. He can’t remember the last time someone put this much thought in getting him something this significant. He can’t accept this ring, but he can’t refuse it either. “I could never find something with this much value from a little shop in New York, so thank you.” 

“Oh, and while we’re on the topic of New York,” Jimin puts down his completed popcorn wreath, “y/n said she already put in her off days for Easter, so you should too. It’ll be at my place this year, and I live by an indoor skydiving zone. She mentioned you’re an adrenaline junkie.” 

“She also mentioned that your birthday’s in September.” your mom pops in, “We were thinking we could take Friday off and stop by for the weekend. I’ve always wanted to see Hamilton!” 

Jungkook knows they’re trying to cheer him up. They’re trying to make him feel part of the family, feel wanted. But he can’t remember the last time he’s felt wanted unless it’s for a book deal or a business exchange. It’s been so long since he’s felt this warm, and he didn’t realize how much he yearned for it until he proposed to you.

“Hey man,” Jimin puts an arm around his trembling shoulders, “are you alright?” 

“Fine,” he’s crying, and doing a shit job at hiding the tears. “It’s alright, I just,” he can’t even find the strength to get up and walk away from this. Is it pathetic that he’s breaking down in the comfort of your cousin and mom, starved for affection? “I just, I miss my family. It’s just the four of us, but they’re all the way in Korea and it’s been awhile since I’ve really celebrated anything with them. They visit sometimes but it’s not the same, y’know? And work is so stressful but I’m not in a position to say that. And your family is just so, so nice and it makes me miss them even more. You’re all so lucky to support each other like this.” 

Jimin and your mom sandwich him like an Oreo. It’s almost funny, how two smaller humans are comforting this big human and not the other way around. “Poor baby, it’s your family too.” 

Pathetic. It’s pathetic how much he wishes to have a family like yours, but he can’t have that. 

“Can we please not tell y/n about this?” Jungkook wishes, leaning his head on your mom’s. “She’s going through a lot right now with work and stuff, I’d rather just talk to her about this after the holidays, if that’s okay.” 

“It’s quite alright, sweetheart,” your mom runs a hand through his hair, and his eyes automatically flutter closed, “just remember, your feelings matter too, okay?” 

You and Jungkook slip into bed at the same time, murmuring half-hearted “how was your days” and brief descriptions of your outings. It’s a little awkward considering the morning’s events, but not unbearable. 

“The tree smells really nice,” Jungkook tries, looking up from his phone. 

“Yeah, makes the whole room smell like Christmas.” 

“Yeah.”

“Did you have a good time shopping, find anything good?” 

“Yeah.”

“That’s nice.” 

[11:29] Jimin: hey, you know my room’s right next to yours right? 

[11:29] Jimin: we share a goddamn wall and im NOT hearing shit

[11:29] Jimin: are you putting that baby blanket to good use ;)

[11:30] You: YOU”REE DISGUSTING are we even family!!!!  Can i disown a first cousin?? 

[11:30] Jimin: i’m just sayin.. U said it was fantastic

You throw your phone away, letting it slide off to the mattress and onto the baby blanket. Yes, the baby blanket is unfortunately here to stay. Over the course of three days, the quilt is like a ball in a tennis match between you and your mother. You’ve given up and just kept it on the floor. 

“I have a question,” you say aloud, motioning to your bed partner. 

“Shoot.” 

“Was it true when you said I was the only girl you knew well enough to be your wife?”

“Of course, that’s why we’re here.” 

“I’m just wondering, because I really thought you could pick any girl in the office to be yours.” you stuff your hands under the covers, playing with your ring. “I mean, you’re kinda-sorta handsome. You could’ve picked someone just as pretty and they would have studied your whole life story for you.” 

Jungkook's phone falls in his lap, and he looks at you like you’ve lost a couple brain cells. “Normally, I would eat up the fact that you admitted I was attractive. But do you realize you’re just as beautiful, if not more?” 

What? 

“I know it’s unprofessional, but how professional can we get when we’re married, but you’re the whole package, y/n.” and he says it with such fervor, you can’t formulate a response. “I wouldn’t have wanted anyone else. No one else can take my shit and throw it right back in my face, or debate with me for hours on end about a novel’s direction. Only you can do that.” 

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, “thanks, you’re right. I’m just clouded, and stressed. And Jimin’s being an ass and it’s really bothering me.” 

His chocolate eyes flicker in the darkness of your bedroom, making note of your phone on the floor. “What’d he say?” 

“It’s stupid, he said that he thinks it’s weird he hasn’t heard us bang all week,” you force a laugh, “it’s my fault though, he wouldn’t get off my back so I gave up and told him the sex was fantastic.” 

“Are you worried he’s unconvinced?” 

“A little, maybe? I don’t know.” you’re wrinkling your bedsheets now, turning the cotton into putty as your sweaty palms wring at the edge. 

“I don’t mind giving him a show.” Jungkook blurts, and you instinctively pull the covers closer to your chest, even though you’re fully clothed. 

“What, like fake moan into the wall?” 

“There are things you can do over the clothes,” he says matter-of-factly, pulling the sheet of his bedside down slightly. “And you just said you’re stressed. I’d be a bad fiancé to not let you relieve some of that tension.” 

Jungkook opens his arms and gestures for you to get on his lap. Your body is hot all over, and you can’t tell if it’s because you’re horrified or aroused. Maybe a little of both. 

“Are you kidding—you’re my boss!” 

“And we’re consenting adults!” he narrows his eyes at you, “don’t say you’ve never thought about it before.”

And the sick, twisted part of you has, a lot. There’s something about a man in a tailored suit and owning up to its power that’s really attractive. Not to mention all those times they’d be traveling for work, stumbling for a quick McDonald's bite at 12AM and he’d be dressed casually in tight black jeans and combat boots. The energy really kept you on your toes. 

“Wow, I really hate late-night talks. All the secrets come out, don’t they?” 

“If it makes you feel better, your ass looks great in pencil skirts,” you turn to him with flared eyes, “what? I’m just trying to let you know I mayhaps find you attractive.” 

“Mayhaps you should stop talking before I regret this.” 

His eyebrows lift and disappear from his bangs, the hair freshly dried and fluffy from his late night shower. He then pats his lap with a little blasé as if to say “hop on”, and you ignore the way how good the seat looks, his boxer briefs doing nothing to hide his unmentionables. 

Trying to fight alongside your last drop of dignity, you take your time. 

“C’mon y/n, don’t make it weird.” 

“It’s been weird, Jeon! Jimin’s next door!” you hiss, backing away slightly, “Give me some time, I can’t just hump my boss!” 

“You’re not humping your boss.” Jungkook has the audacity to grin, the expression looking absolutely sinful in the moonlight. “Think of it as your lover wanting to make you feel good.” 

The bridge between love and hatred is a fine, fine line stemmed by passion. 

Careful, you lift your blankets up and slip out of them, moving to sit up. It’s ridiculous, tiptoeing around your bed to avoid any sudden creaks in the aged wood of your mahogany headboard. 

“We’re out to prove to your family we fuck on the reg,” Jungkook snips, “you can make noise.” 

Within seconds, he’s hauling you on his lap. You squeak in surprise, feeling the thin material of his boxers seep through your thin silk shorts. You wriggle around, monitoring Jungkook’s expression. He does not allude too much, but you take note of the way Jungkook secures you with his hands between the swells of your thighs. 

“I’m not a rollercoaster, stop adjusting like you’re gonna buckle up.” 

Jungkook’s dry humor lightens the mood considerably, and you can’t help but smile timidly at his attempt to make you feel at ease. He lets you take your time, and you never imagined someone so demanding in the office can be so… kind in bed. 

You dip forward to kiss his lips once, twice. He looks needy, but lets you set the pace. You appreciate that. You’re salivating at his willingness to make you feel good, and you whimper as he nibbles on a sensitive spot on your neck. 

You need more. Sensing your urgency when you jerk his chin up, he muffles your sounds with a harsh kiss, taking care to moan deeply into your mouth. The heat is luxurious on this winter night, burgundy kisses exchanged between the sheets like secrets. His tongue slips between your teeth, tasting every inch of you and exploring you like the deepest texts. 

He pulls away slightly, and you’re drowning in his gaze. “Am I still just kinda-sorta handsome now?” he nips at your neck, sucking on a spot between your jaw. 

“N-no,” and you pull him up by the chin, taking in his messy hair and glazed eyes, “you’re fucking sexy,” and you tug your mouth to his once more. 

You don’t even realize that you’re rolling your hips until Jungkook breaks the kiss in favor of grabbing your hips, making sure your core is nestled perfectly between his hardening length. It doesn’t take long for the both of you to get wet, and the silk glides easily between your thighs like butter.

“That’s it, baby girl,” he encourages, one hand reaching up to cup your breast, “use me, make  yourself feel good.” 

“Please, don’t call me that,” you whine against his mouth, trying to keep the mood in, “Babe is fine, but baby girl makes me feel like a little kid and I’m not a little kid.”

“You damn right,” and he lifts his hips to meet yours in a sharp thrust, and you gasp hotly into his mouth. It’s too late to muffle your moans, not when you’re drenched with two pathetic pieces of fabric stopping the both of you. “You’re a gorgeous, intelligent, strong, amazing woman.” 

With every compliment, he does all the work, thrusting with each adjective like he’s blessing poetry into your body. 

“J-Jungkook,” the name is muffled against his shoulder, too fuzzed in ecstasy to be embarrassed by the drool coating his tank top. His hair tickles your shoulder as he nips at your clothed breasts, swirling around your nipple. “I-I, m’gonna come,” 

“You’re almost there huh?” and he slips a hand between you two to find that sweet spot, swirling designs between your shorts. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

And you’re shaking, collapsing into his embrace as he rides out your high. He cradles one hand in your hair as you rub furiously against his other, chasing your pleasure like a starved animal. 

“K-Kook,” you murmur into his neck, finding the strength to roll your hips one more time to check. “You’re still hard, do you want me to help?”

“No.” he’s forthright, and as tired as you are, you force yourself to pick your head up. Sweat lines his brow and his face is flushed, but he’s already helping you off and handing you a tissue from the nightstand. 

“What?” you’re hurt, and don’t want to admit why. 

“Don’t feel like you need to,” he grunts into your forehead, dipping a chaste kiss right in the center. “Just let me do something nice to you for once.” 

As much as you want to, you don’t complain as he tucks you in. You don’t complain when you see a wet stain on his Kirby boxer briefs. You don’t answer back when he checks his phone one more time and pulls you in to press a kiss to your cheek. It’s 12:31. 

“Merry Christmas,” he murmurs into your skin, and turns over so his back faces you. 

Christmas is a loud and eager affair. The entirety of your family piles into your house while still in pajamas, aunts and uncles from other villas running in with their children with their newly opened toys and gadgets. There’s a buffet style breakfast piled on the kitchen island, and you’re all eating in the living room while watching holiday movies. 

Jungkook melds right in, unsurprisingly. He has your baby cousin Dante in his lap, teaching him how to use the controls of his new Nintendo Switch. 

Despite only meeting Jungkook a few days ago, you notice that some of your family have taken the liberty of giving him small presents. You spot a simple silver chain around his wrist, courtesy of Jimin, and a fluffy grey scarf wrapped around his neck, courtesy of your aunt’s impeccable knitting club. 

“He fits right in, doesn’t he?” 

Yoongi hands you your usual cup of tea, and you accept it gratefully. You’re sitting right next to the tree, and you notice that some of the ornaments are miniature books. You absentmindedly run your fingers over the carved wood, especially on the ones that are your favorite titles. 

“Yeah,” you hate to admit, so you whisper it into your mug. But Yoongi can hear, he always does. “I didn’t think it would be this easy.” 

“Easy to love him, or easy to fit into this family?” 

You splutter into your mug, and Yoongi does the right thing by patting your back. It feels a little bit like he’s burping a baby, but otherwise, it soothes your lungs. 

“I am happy for you, you know.” he says, knocking knees with you. “It might not seem like it now, but I truly am.” 

Deciding not to dwell on his subversive confession, you thank him for the tea and excuse yourself. Dante seems like he’s got the hang of MarioKart, so you tug Jungkook by the hand and lead him back into your bedroom. 

“I got you a present, but I didn’t feel like making a scene about it,” you pull out a pink gift bag, tufts of white tissue paper sticking out. “Also, it’s kinda cheap and it was a last minute thing, so don’t have any high expectations.” 

“Gee, you’re really making me feel deserving of this gift,” but he takes his time in unraveling the bag anyway. 

He pulls out a shiny onyx black mug, rolling it between his hands. On one side it’s engraved in gold cursive “World’s Best Boss” but on the other side it’s engraved, “World’s Best Husband”. 

“Subtle,” he grins, pulling you into a hug. He gets that it’s a gag gift, but because it’s from you, it's a lot more meaningful. You could’ve easily delved into his bank accounts and see what he buys for himself, but you decided to take the more personal route. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs into your hair. And to really throw you off he says, “For my gift, I’ve decided to publish your novel.” 

You shove him away as if you’ve been stung, and you barely have the voice to ask, “Are you serious, you’ve read my novel? I didn’t even send you the first draft!” 

“We share the same Google Drive, it was easy to find. If you had noticed, it’s the only thing I’ve been reading this week,” he shrugs as if it’s nothing, but he’s in actuality giving you your lifelong dream. “You deserve it, really. I’m sorry if you felt like it wasn’t ready to be read. But it was wonderful, you’re a real wordsmith.” 

“I’m not upset,” you can’t be, not when he smells so good and he’s trying to hug you all over again. “How many copies?”

“10,000.”

“20,000.”

“15,000, and I’ll even give you permission to dedicate your novel to me.” he raises his brows irreverently. 

You scoff at his arrogance, but you don’t admit to confessing that along with professors and your family, you would be dedicating it to him. “Well my gift feels like absolute shit,” you deadpan, “can I have a do-over tomorrow? We can go to the mall or something.”

“You’ve done enough for me,” he disagrees, breaking away from you to place the mug on your desk. “Agreeing to my farfetched proposal, letting me into your home. I think that’s an amazing gift.” 

“You’ve been way too nice,” you look at him wearily, noting the rosiness in his cheeks. 

“You say that like it’s not possible!” 

“Who knows? Maybe the Christmas spirit has performed a miracle, who am I to judge?” and you can’t get enough of the man, running into his heart one more time. Pressing your ear to his chest you sing, “Well, in the Poconos they say, that Jeon Jungkook’s heart grew three sizes that day.” 

It may have not grown three sizes, but if the living room wasn’t so loud, maybe you could’ve heard his heart beating three times as fast. 

The calm after the storm is your favorite part of Christmas. Most of your extended family has left to mull in their own homes, leaving your family to laze around until it’s just you and Jungkook that are awake. 

Jim Carrey’s version of How the Grinch Stole Christmas is playing on Netflix, arguably the only superior rendition of the children's book. The tree is still glowing by the fireplace, soft white lights trickling in the darkened room. 

Earlier in the night, you and Jungkook had cuddled up in the middle of the couch under a blanket, and were too lazy to move even when the entirety of your family vacated. Either of you could’ve easily shoved each other off and went to bed, but here you are, making offhand comments over hot cocoa. Each second that passes by, you’re more aware of how well you two sink between the fabric like you’re meant to do this. The domesticity terrifies you, but you don’t dare to point it out. 

“How does his face do that?” Jungkook turns to you, contorting his face into funny expressions. It’s a poor attempt at the green creature on the screen, but it makes your mouth twitch and you fight the urge to giggle. “It’s like he’s made of rubber.” 

“He has a sense of humor, unlike some people.” 

“Very funny,” he says, turning away to take a sip of his cooca. 

Sinking further into the couch, you unconsciously latch onto him more, savoring his body heat. “Can I confess something?”  

“What’s up?” 

“A week ago, I loathed you. I used to have recurring dreams about you getting run over by a Wonderbread truck. And I was driving the truck.” 

“Wow, that makes me feel so much better.” 

“No really, if I had the opportunity to watch you get hit by a cab, I would’ve paid for it.” 

“If it were possible for me to file for divorce at this very second, now would be time. You are a walking red flag.” 

“Okay, but!” you shush him with a finger to your lips, and he goes cross-eyed at the touch. “After seeing your stellar performance this week and an impeccable display of human emotion. I think after all of this, we could be friends.” 

“Fwends?” he says through your finger, mouth smushed. “Why whuh we?” 

Instead of lifting your finger right away, you swipe at his cherry lips, getting rid of the marshmallow sticking to the corners. 

“Because we get along.” you say simply.

“Because we’re supposed to be getting married.” 

“No! We’ve always gotten along! We’ve just been too up our asses to notice!” you sit up, appalled. “Here’s my theory, a change of setting has suddenly spurred on your character development—”

“—y’know I really don’t appreciate your use of literary jargon, it’s really pretentious—”

“—because without your external conflict, you have a chance to let loose and enjoy your life for once!” 

Jungkook frowns, adjusting his frame so he slightly hovers you. He’s pretty like this, dressed in fluffy black pajamas and his face soft. His eyes absorb the Christmas fairy lights, and you notice for the first time in two years that there are no longer purple bags under his eyes. 

“I don’t know,” he murmurs, voice so small you wonder if he’s worried to crush the moment. “Friends are hard.” 

You shake your head vehemently, “Friends are easy, keeping them is the hard part.”

He doesn’t know why he’s being so weird about this. You’ve worked for him for over two years, you know him as well as you know your skincare routine, down to the last detail. 

“Jeon, don’t think too hard about this,” you try to get him to lighten up, the intense look in his eyes throwing you in for a loop. It makes the little hamster wheel in your head spin rapidly, and you wonder if you’re really crossing a line. “Jimin said you had a really good time yesterday, I was almost jealous I couldn’t come shopping with you.” 

He cracks a smile at that, “Yeah, Jimin and I shared a moment,” and he leans down to the shell of your ear, “and he said he really enjoyed our moment last night.” 

“Oh my god!” you grab a nearby throw pillow, chucking the rough fabric in his face. 

He breaks into a laugh, but not the wine and dine chuckles that he’d have between terse negotiations for work. It’s a full out giggle, like he’s proud to have riled you up enough to break your resolve. Who knew your angry face could be so cute? 

“I guess if we’ve crossed a line, might as well make it all the way to the end,” Jungkook says easily, running a hand through his chocolate tresses. 

You and Jungkook are leaving the day after tomorrow. Most of your stuff is packed and ready to go, and you’re currently spending the rest of your night at a sit-down dinner with your immediate family plus Jimin. 

It’s peaceful, you muse. Jungkook even offered to help cook. Back at Big Hit not once did he ever bring leftovers from home, always insisting you order something for him during work. Kimchi fried rice is a simple dish, but Jungkook had taken great care in making sure it was cooked properly and adjusted to your family’s tastes. 

Your parents are glowing and enjoying their time with the whole family, a rarity that grows more valuable with age. The meal soothes you like a balm, reminding you of old conversations that had you spew milk out of your nose or Namjoon accidentally spilling beans on your lap. 

“Oh, you should also clear your schedule for the first week of September,” Jimin says absentmindedly, shoving another mouthful of fried rice. “Besides Easter, Jungkook says we can celebrate his birthday and visit for the weekend.” 

“Seriously,” Namjoon balks, sitting up straight as he regards you in disbelief. “You’re sure your Devil of a boss will enjoy you out of his chains for two vacations, god forbid you take the holidays off again.” 

The grip on your fork tightens, but you steel yourself. Honestly, you were wondering why it took Namjoon this long to let it all out. He was always vehemently against your job, as he was the person who got the brunt of your vents when you were stressed. Probably for the sake of Christmas he let it go, but now that it’s over, the topic’s fair game. 

“Oh, c’mon Joonie,” your mother frowns, “not at the table.” 

“He isn’t that bad, Joon.” you reason, completely ignoring Jungkook as you stare straight at your brother. “He means well—”

“Means well?” Namjoon barks a laugh, as if it’s the most laudable thing. “Sis, you cried everyday for a straight month after you were hired.” he places his hands on the table, regarding you carefully, “I had to personally call your doctor in New York to get you sleeping pills, and not to mention that two weeks ago, you were crying again because you were worried he forgot your vacation and would make you work! Don’t tell me he ‘means well’ when I’ve been busy picking up the pieces!” 

At this point, you’re livid. Jungkook’s right here, and while you can’t go ahead and out the fact that he is your boss, you can still have his back. 

They don’t know that you’ve picked the pieces back up, reinforced yourself to create a better version of the person you once were. 

“He does mean well,” you cry, matching your brother’s red tone to a T. “He’s just stressed and genuinely cares about the company. I choose to work long hours because he takes his time in making sure the work we publish is worthwhile, and I support that. He’s hard on me because he knows I have potential. He’s going to make sure I succeed.” 

Namjoon looks at you like you’ve grown two heads. “You’re seriously defending your shitty boss?” 

Jimin puts a hand over Namjoon’s in an attempt to placate him, but he shoves it away.

“Honestly,” Namjoon spits venom, “how can you possibly stand to be around someone who makes your life so miserable?” 

Your meal has gone cold, and your fists clutch desperately at your jeans. The breath is robbed from your lungs, and you can’t look at anyone for fear of them regarding you with guilt. You know since the day you got hired that your family wasn’t exactly enthused at your boss’ level of expectation and work output. But they don’t know the industry, and they don’t even really know Jungkook past the surface level. . 

But you know in their eyes, they’re right. Their daughter left their comfy home to pursue her lifelong dream, only for it to be broken in a matter of weeks. It’s natural to feel protective, and while you’re resilient and were able to get it together as of late, it wasn’t enough for them to understand. As someone who loves you, it’s obvious they’d want to blame your boss, blame Jungkook for your suffering. 

You imagine your father would ask Namjoon to step outside, or your parents would make Jimin pull you and Jungkook out. Neither of those things happen.

A warm, large hand is placed on top of yours. You look towards Jungkook, face unreadable as he squeezes your thigh. 

“Namjoon’s right.” Jungkook utters, pressing his lips together. “You deserve to be treated with respect. The boss has never appreciated the hard work you do, at least not out loud. You’re too good for him.”

“Jungkook,” you gape, putting your other hand over his. 

He pulls away at your touch, glancing at the clock. “This dinner was wonderful,” he says gently, looking apologetic to your parents. “Excuse me, but I promised to call my parents at this time.” 

The excuse is completely half-assed, but no one says anything as he leaves, walking out the door without a coat. The table is terse, with your parents attempting to coax out dessert while Jimin clears the dinner table. You refuse to look at Namjoon, who has no idea why you’re so upset. You wait five minutes before you mumble about getting Jungkook a jacket. 

However, when you open the door he isn’t sitting on the porch. He’s all the way up the street, too far for you to be heard with a yell, and walking farther into town. The black hoodie falls to your side, disappointed. 

Jungkook does in fact, call his parents. Your mother suggested it when she gave him the ring, thinking it would ease his homesickness if he made a better effort to communicate his feelings. 

And so he spends over an hour huddled in a cafe, talking about nothing and everything with his mom and dad. He tells them about the little novelties he’s experienced this week, like making popcorn strings and picking out themed Christmas ornaments. He tells him how he promises to book a flight back to Korea as soon as his work visa goes through. While he doesn’t mention the proposal, he mentions you. He prattles on and on about how strong and beautiful you are, and how you’ve crept up on him and made him realize how awful of a person he was. 

His mom prattles excitedly through the line, saying that women make you realize how much better you can be for them, but she doesn’t know the half of it. 

Jungkook sat there in your dining room, Namjoon boldly telling you off about how miserable he’s made you. 

And yet still, you defended him in ways he never imagined. Your relationship has always been mutual, and prickly at best. You balanced each other out, but he knows he doesn’t deserve you. When he first hired you, he rendered you indispensable like all the other assistants that couldn’t handle it. You’d break eventually. 

And you did break. But you picked up the pieces and put yourself back together, and you didn’t resent him for it. He hated that. How can you trust someone who’s hurt you so much? 

He can’t let you go through with this marriage. You’re wrong. You don’t need him to be successful. 

[11:09] You: mom unlocked the door for you. Jimin and i went out for drinks so idk when ill be back

[11:09] You: please don’t be mad at me

Silly girl, why would he ever be mad at you? 

His plan is simple, Sneak into your villa, grab his luggage, and try to book the earliest flight back to New York. Then, he can come clean to Taeyeon and spend the year in Korea while they work out his visa issues. He’ll quietly pack his things and clear out the office before Monday.  Hopefully by the time he makes it to Busan, he can forgive himself. He’s going to regret missing your expression when you get to hold the first physical copy of your novel. 

This plan proves difficult when he sees Namjoon waiting outside for him, sitting on his luggage and reading a book. His long legs are splayed across the porch, and he doesn’t spare Jungkook a glance.

“Knew something was off,” the older man doesn’t look up from his novel, “found the mug on her desk, bossman.” 

Muttering a curse under his breath Jungkook opens his arms, “Are you gonna beat me up now?” 

“What? No, I’m a lover, not a fighter.” Jungkook scoffs, and watches Namjoon roll his luggage to the back of the van. “And out of the kindness of my heart, I’ll save you the Lyft fare and drive you to the airport.” 

Is he that predictable? He flinches at the sudden jet of the ignition, and he takes heavy, snow-laden steps to the passenger seat. Once buckled in, Namjoon tosses the book in his lap. “Some light reading for the drive.” 

If Namjoon wasn’t the driver, he wouldn’t hesitate to chuck the book at his big, intelligent head. Instead, he glowers, clutching the book tightly. It’s only when they round the corner to a house brightly decorated with lights, does he see what novel Namjoon’s plucked. 

A Mutually-Assured Attachment. Jungkook tosses the book back and forth between his palms, noting the soft cover is so worn it could melt apart in his lap. It feels tended and loved from years of use. 

It’s Jungkook’s first novel, and you had a copy. One of the first editions, if he remembers the cover art correctly. Granted, he thought you had some of his books purely because of your job, but not one from your childhood. Frankly he thought this should have never been published, but he was nineteen and that in itself was a large feat. 

He carefully peels the pages, and takes out his phone to shine the flashlight mode. At the very front, blood red ink is scratched next to the title: “this is THE most pretentious title i’ve read in my life! Don’t disappoint me jeon!!” 

Your handwriting’s all over the place. He sees graphite, gel, and glitter pens mark the margins, as if you’ve come back each time to write something new. The annotations vary, from “this part sucks” to “shit, that’s good i should do that”. You draw little pictures of the objects he’s contrived, from the little brass locket one character cherishes to the facial expressions you imagine they hold. 

And at the very end, your handwriting sits neat and bold on the inside cover: I can do better than him. 

Jungkook chuckles to himself, turning off the light. You’re always right. 

Namjoon senses the younger one is done, and he clears his throat. “I really really don’t understand what she sees in you.” 

“I don’t understand either,” Jungkook agrees easily, his finger tracing your handwriting. He muses that you were always out to get him, even if you didn’t know it. 

Namjoon masks his surprise by clearing his throat. “But I’d rather seek to understand than live the rest of my life having my sister resent me. I don’t really know what you two are going through, but if she trusts you with her life, I’ll try. Emphasis on try.” 

“I don’t deserve your trust.” 

“You damn right you don’t,” succumbing to his impulses Namjoon makes a sharp turn, and Jungkook holds his stomach together before it flies out the window.  

You come home to find your room cold and barren. All of Jungkook’s things are gone, except your Christmas mug. 

You at least thought Jungkook would spare you a goodbye before he ditched you. You hoped you’d at least consider each other friends who provide explanations after all of this. 

Lifting the mug off the desk, you hear a little clink in the glass, the chime unfamiliar. Hurriedly, you pour out its contents. A heavy, tungsten black ring lands in your palm. You clench the metal between your fingers, hugging it to your chest. 

Mind made up, you dash out to the hallway, nearly bumping into your cousin. At the same time you and Jimin blurt, “We need to go to the airport.” 

Apparently Namjoon warned Jimin that something fishy’s going on. Namjoon didn’t know what, but he had the inkling that Jungkook was hiding something. Once Jimin received the text to meet them at the airport, he flung you in his sedan and floored it. Flushed with adrenaline, Jimin is speeding with a fervor you’ve never experienced. 

“Can you please, take the edge off and tell me what the hell is going on?” 

Just like how Jungkook didn’t want Big Hit to go down the drain, you didn’t want this week to be in vain. You can’t wait a year for Jungkook to come back, and you didn’t want to publish your first novel without him by your side. 

“Long version or short version?” 

“The in-the-middle version. I don’t think I have the brain capacity to absorb all your drama right now but I really need some answers.” 

“O-kay. Basically, Jungkook isn’t a Literary Agent. He’s my god-awful boss. Or was awful, I don’t know. Jungkook left the country before his work visa was fully processed. That’s a breach, so he needs to live in Korea for a year to come back. But he can’t run Big Hit remotely, so he proposed to marry me to attain citizenship.”

Your head whips to the dashboard and you cry out, barely stopping the impact with your hands.  

“Sorry, sorry!” Jimin’s eyes are focused on the red light, absolutely terrified. “Bitch, you’re committing fraud with your boss! You could go to jail, that’s like, the hottest love story ever!” 

“But he’s going back to Korea because now he suddenly realized he can forge basic human connection.” you mutter, “so no, we’re not going to jail because he’s decided to do the right thing.” 

“So what you’re saying is, Jungkook has achieved self-actualization and decided to peacefully move to Korea and sacrifice the company for you.” Jimin is carving his free hand in the air, gesturing wildly. “Don’t you see! He really likes you.”

“Yeah, so now we need to go to the airport and tell his dumbass this isn’t the time to be selfless.” 

Once you find a spot you’re rushing out of the car, weaving between carts and people to find the correct terminal. This airport is much smaller than JFK, so it’s easy for you to navigate and get past the TSA. It also helps that Jin’s wife is an attendant. 

“He chose the 1:45 flight in Terminal 31A,” Mijoo chirps from her tablet, leading you in the right direction. She’s dressed impeccably, the odds and ends of this airport glued together by her impeccable organization. She points to the clock, which glares a digital 1:18AM. “You have time.” 

“Thank you Mijoo,” you exhale gratefully, “and I’m so so sorry I skipped your wedding!” 

“This is the 300th time you’ve said it,” Mijoo rolls her eyes, pushing you and Jimin forward, “But I’ll make sure not to miss your wedding.” 

You’re sweating from your down jacket, and you can’t believe it’s really all come down to this. The one person you’ve spent the last two years of your life doting on, and you didn’t want to stop. You wanted him not just for the publication of your novel, but because you needed him. 

Jungkook’s sitting in the waiting area of Terminal 31A, looking wholly inconspicuous as he reads a book and has his hood propped up. 

Fists balled, you stride forward only to have Jimin tug you back. “What?” 

Jimin pulls off your thick coat, making haste to wipe the sweat off your brow with his sleeves and flatten your messy hair. “What?” he tilts his head to the side, “you need to look good before the big confrontation. I’m recording this for archival purposes. Do you have any lip balm by any chance? You look chapped.” 

You slap his hands away, but those grubby fingers just come back with a vengeance. “My life is just a big show to you, isn’t it?”

“Living vicariously all day, every day.” 

While Jimin parts your bangs, the intercom cuts through the air. 

“The 1:45 flight to John F. Kennedy International airport will now commence boarding. Please line up according to the ticket class.” 

Jimin smiles at you, squeezing your shoulders and gestures for you to go. To your horror, Jungkook is first in line. Panic bubbles to your throat.

“Jeon Jungkook!” you cry, voice echoing throughout the terminal. “If you so much breathe in the direction of that plane I will call Mark Lee right this second and tell him the book series is off!” 

Like a deer in the headlights, Jungkook heeds to your voice immediately. In his stupor you jog forward to snatch his wrist and pull him out of line. You don’t let go until you’re away from the long line, and Jungkook tugs his wrist away. 

“Don’t you dare call him,” Jungkook looks serious, as if you didn’t drive all the way to stop him from making the biggest mistake of his life. “I will never forgive you if you terminate Mark Lee’s contract.” 

“And I won’t forgive you if you get on that plane.” 

Pain flashes in his eyes, and he shakes his head. “I need to. I can’t let us—let you go through with this. You and your family deserve better.” 

“What? Jungkook, I agreed to this just as much as you did.” 

“No, you didn’t.” he’s adamant, and steps back with every step you take forward. “As your boss I threatened you, held it over your head like an ultimatum. I’ve hurt you,” his voice cracks, looking at you desperately, “why would you want to be stuck with me when I’ve made your life miserable?” 

“If I really wanted to leave, I would’ve done it a long time ago.” You reason, “Do you really want to leave the company behind? To fucking Karen?” 

“Of course I don’t!” Jungkook exclaims, “but it isn’t worth hurting you, hurting your family and everyone that loves you.” 

“And what about you? You’ll be hurt when you leave,” and you step forward, so close that your chests are touching. You take hold of his hands, clutching them between your small ones. “Don’t go, stay with me in New York. We’ll both work hard and try to not run each other to the ground. Let’s be better together.” 

You’re practically begging, biting your lip raw and hoping Jungkook understands how good this change is for the both of you. 

Jungkook is conflicted, looking back and forth between the airline boarding for JFK and your watery eyes. He hates seeing you like this. He can’t imagine you, the strongest woman he’s ever met, crying because of him. Namjoon’s voice echoes in his mind and he tries to smash it to the edge of his memory. But as always, you’re right. 

He replaces your grip with his own, and gets down on one knee. 

Jungkook says your name like it's the sweetest of songs. You’ve never seen him so terrified. “y/n, I didn’t do it right the first time, so let me try again. Please, marry me. Marry me because I want to date you. I want to take you out and give you what you deserve, what we deserve. I want to do better for myself, do better for you. I’ve realized you’re the only person that makes me feel like I’m simultaneously on fire and on thin ice,” he pulls out a velvet box from his pocket, revealing a thin band with interlocking black and clear diamond studs. It’s a pretty little thing, with a groove in the center so it stacks perfectly with your engagement ring. “This was supposed to be your Christmas present, but I chickened out at the last second,” he says sheepishly, tucking his head in. “But if you let me put this ring on your finger, I promise to be your home away from home.”  

With a sob you fall to your knees, throwing yourself onto Jungkook. A small “oof” escapes his lips, and he struggles to hold your waist so you both don’t topple over. “Yes, yes, yes!” you cry, pulling away to cup his face with both hands, pulling him into a sweet kiss. 

Jungkook’s smile takes up his entire face, and he eagerly pecks your lips one more time before ripping the ring from its holder and stacking it on top of your engagement ring. The teardrop diamond is nestled perfectly between the thinner band’s V. “Pretty,” he says, pressing his forehead to yours. 

“Wait,” you pull out the black ring that you found in your room, holding it to his face. “I’m assuming this is yours?” 

“Yeah,” he replies, “your mother said it was your great grandfather’s. It’s not an engagement ring, but it’s the thought that counts.” 

“It matches,” you hum, placing his simpler band in his ring finger. Once it’s on, you take a deep breath. “Shit, we’re really doing this?” 

Jungkook pulls you to stand, wiping the happy tears from your cheek. “We are, we’re a team, remember? We’ve crossed the line and we gotta finish it.” 

And he picks you up, the workouts definitely paying off as he spins you around like you’re the leads in La-La Land, drunk off the happy chemicals firing in your brain. Jimin whoops and hollers, along with all the other patrons in the vicinity of the airport terminal. 

Your real-fiancé puts you down, the both of you now hyperconscious of the stares people give you. Other people have filmed the proposal as well, completely smitten by your confessions. 

“Jungkook,” you giggle into his shoulder, “you were right. Our story is straight out of a Wattpad entry.” 

“Down to the super cheesy in-public airport proposal?” he chimes, pressing his forehead to yours. “Couldn’t have asked for a better love story.” 

“I can’t wait to fall in love with you,” you whisper, quiet enough for his ears only, “for real, this time.” 

“Not that it’s a challenge,” he teases softly, “but I’m already halfway there.” 

some months later.

“Like the new office, boss lady?” your new assistant (yes, you have an assistant!) asks kindly, his bubbly presence uplifting you immediately. He leads you to the window box, filled with tiny plants. “I figured you like succulents, because you have no time to water them and they’re prickly like you.” 

“Very funny, Seungkwan.” you chide good-naturedly, picking up a succulent with a yellow flower in the middle. “But thank you, your interior design skills are outmatched. I can’t wait to work with you.” 

“Me too, your social commentary you published on the literary industry? And you managed to lace it all up in an inconspicuous fantasy novel?” Seungkwan boasts, “I applied for this position right then and there.” 

“Thanks Seungkwan, why don’t you take your lunch and we’ll meet back at one to discuss our plans for next week.” 

“Sounds good, do you want me to pick you up something?” 

“I’m good, I’m meeting with the bossman.” 

Seungkwan gives you that look, his lips jutting out in a suggestive manner that almost makes you burst into giggles. Your assistant decides not to bother you until after you’ve eaten, and bids you goodbye. 

Just when you get a moment of peace, a handsome face pokes his way inside. “Hello editor,” Jungkook knocks on your door for the sake of attention, but you’re already dragging him into the office and shutting the door tight. “Like your new office?” 

“Love it,” you moan, gesturing to Seungkwan’s light filtering curtains. They’re not dark, rather a tasteful sea green, but they’re opaque enough to stop wandering eyes from peeking into your space. Your personal space was a qualm that immediately needed to be mended after your experience in Jungkook’s office. “A lot more private than your office.” 

“A little part of me hates how much you deserve this promotion,” he sits on your desk, and doesn’t hesitate to pull you between his legs, letting you lean into his chest, “but I do love the added privacy.” 

You fiddle with the buttons of his navy collar, his strong thighs trap you between him, “Why, miss me already?” 

He shrugs, “Taehyung doesn’t look as good as you do in a pencil skirt.” 

You laugh, brushing the strands of hair that fall from his coiff. “No one looks as good as I do in a pencil skirt.” A firm grip confirms that, two strong hands cupping your backside. “Mr. Jeon!” you gasp playfully, pushing him away slightly to pinch his cheeky grin. “Can we save this for later? I’m hungry, but we can always continue this for dessert.” 

He groans in your neck, “Love the sound of that, Mrs. Jeon.” 

bonus.

“FUUUCCCKKKKKK YEEAAHHHHH!” Park Jimin’s voice bounces off the walls of Taeyeon’s office, his face taking up the entire screen of his desktop as the camera shifts harshly between him and you and Jungkook at the airport. “My cousin’s not going to jail! WOO!” 

Taeyeon pauses the YouTube video at a particularly unflattering screencap: Jimin’s nostrils are flaring wildly and he looks fairly high mid-scream. 

A low whistle escapes Jungkook’s lips, “Wow. That video’s viral,” he looks to you appreciatively, “if Jimin kicks off his YouTube career, you think we can milk a memoir outta him?” 

“Potentially,” you reply nonchalantly, playing with your rings. 

“So,” Taeyeon’s voice is icy, slashing between your casual conversation, “you’re getting married, for real this time?” 

“Yep,” Jungkook pops. 

“Alright,” and from her desk she pulls out an ungodly stack of documents, one that mirrors your own back at the office. “Jungkook, you’ll stay with me. y/n, you’ll go to Vernon’s office and he’ll give you the same spiel. We’ll interview you privately with the same questions. A hair out of place and you’re in trouble. You sure you want to go through with this?” 

You and Jungkook exchange looks, betting your own company that you got this in the bag. 

“Hit us with your best shot.” 

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