#and loved loved loved seeing him manhandled today oops

[smoshidiot]

[ redacted ]

#i genuinely love him so much #and loved loved loved seeing him manhandled today oops #ana draws #beardier half #ian hecox #smosh #smosh fanart #[redacted]

[anundyingfidelity]

Hi!! Congrats on reaching 400 followers !! 🎉🎊 For the drabble request, can I get something dark and smutty with Lee Pace?(if you feel comfortable about it of course) Also I broke my phone like 5 days ago and now that I'm back I see all these booping around 😆, can you tell me what is that about and how can I play?! xoxo😗 💞

thanks a lot aaaa 🩷🩷 ! this is the first request i receive for lee and i'm happy because there aren't a lot of fics about him uggghhh i love him!! i'm sorry about your phone OMG the boops were for april fool's, it was a special stuff for that day only, it was fun 😭 hope they can bring it back tho! ps: LOOK AT THAT GIF THAT HE'S SO HOT, MY TURN NOW, I WANT TO GET SLAPPED TOO lol

event guidelines ✮ event masterlist ✮

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

WORKOUT — Lee Pace x female reader

Word count: 530 (oops again lol).

Genre: dark stuff, smut.

Warnings: dom!Lee Pace, p in v smut, blowjob, cum swallow, manhandling, use of word 'whore'.

“I love the way your body takes me,” Lee purred against your ear.

His thumb pressing between your lips as he rolled his hips lazily, his cock buried deep inside your pussy. You rolled your tongue, taking his finger on your mouth, sucking on it like it was his hard cock. You hummed as he split you open, pounding into you harder.

How did you end up here, with him between your legs and ripping your clothes off and fucking you in the gym? Well, you worked for some time together and the tension was inevitable. None of you said a word, besides occasional flirting and teasing, but not going further than words. But today, seeing him working out, sweaty, and building up muscles for his new role made you feel things you were not supposed to, since you were part of his publicist team. When you gave it a try, he sensed the lust on your eyes and excitement coming from you. Then a sloppy kiss happened, and now he had you pinned down against a yoga mat on the empty gym floor, half dressed, fucked out and moaning his name over and over.

“I've wanted to do this since forever,” he growled, pulling out his thumb from your mouth.

His big hand moved down, caressing the sweat coated skin on your neck. “You’re so fucking perfect, made to fit me.”

His praise earned whimpers from your lips, your pussy clenching around his cock when his big hand wrapped around your neck, cutting some of your air perfectly to make you shiver. Lee grinned wickedly.

“You like it rough?” he teased, giving you a couple of hard thrusts, reaching that sweet spot that made you see stars as your eyelids closed harshly.

You nodded as best as you could. The sensation down your belly became too much to handle, and you soon found yourself coating his cock with the juices of your release, as he moaned with that beautiful, deep voice of his, not stopping his hips at all. Fuck, just by this session he was getting addicted to your pussy. He was fucking close too, but he had another plans for you.

Lee suddenly pulled out once you came down from your high, forcing you on your knees with his incredibly strong body. Standing before you, he grabbed a fist of your hair, pulling you closer to his cock.

“Be a good girl and suck me off,” he ordered. He was extremely pleased when you took him in your mouth, humming and tasting his precum mingled with your own release like a starved whore having her last meal, until he released down your throat. He forced your head so you couldn’t pull him out. “Swallow. All of it.”

And you did as told. When you swallowed completely, he backed up pulling out his softened shaft and locking eyes with your own. You opened your mouth sticking out your tongue. He grinned, satisfied with your work.

“I don’t think we can remain professional any longer,” you said, catching your breath, and looking at him with innocent eyes.

He was glad about that though. His dirtiest dream was barely starting.

#lee pace x female reader #lee pace fanfiction #lee pace x reader #lee pace imagines #lee pace imagine #lee pace scenarios #lee pace smut #lee pace #400followerstag!

[thesunshineriptide]

Thank you for doing this request (if within your rules that I read and hopefully understood correctly.) and love your work.

So the request would be for twst dorm leaders reaction to s/o losing a bet with Leona and having to spend an afternoon snoozing in the garden with him. Also, for some x reason, Leona is getting revenge on dorm leader or they owe him a favor.

It can be gender neutral or gn. Whichever.

I dont think this goes against any rules and feel free to modify. Really looking for some fluff and laughs from their "jealous" reaction.

THANK YOU!

Keep up the great work :)

Thank you!! I’ve been trying hard. Hopefully I understood your request correctly because if not I’m gonna look stupid af skhffkjsl also oops I forgot the s/o part but I remembered flirting. So it ended up kinda being ~will they won’t they~

Okay due to the nature of this request I don’t really think I can have Leona reacting to…Leona getting revenge on himself, however you will not be empty handed in Leona-ness. Also 👀👀👀 did I hear jealousy???

Too much green to feel blue

Characters: Riddle, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus, Leona

Tw// mild threats, implications of criminal activity, mentions of poisoning, manhandling, jealousy, negative self talk (for Kalim and Idia), angst

Riddle

Riddle had invited you to the once a month Heartslabyul tea party like always, and you had of course said you were going to come. Well, day of, you appear nowhere to be seen. It isn’t like you to be late - at least not when Riddle’s involved, since he’d more than likely give you an earful on manners. So why, exactly, aren’t you here?

Riddle asked Cater to send off a clone to find you with the upmost amount of sweetness, it actually made Cater think he was having a stroke or got hit with a spell that messed with his mind. It wasn’t until Riddle began to flush bright cherry red that he got the memo that, no, he’s not dying, he’s just got a little crush.

So when a Cater clone went to find you and found you in the botanical gardens, laying there asleep with a smirking Leona napping on your chest, he knew better than to share this information.

“They’re sick.” He gave as an excuse, “Wanted to apologize for not letting you know sooner.”

So the party went on and as it was being taken down later, Riddle asked Trey to put aside some leftover cookies so he could take them to you and check on your health. Care frantically tried to get Trey to say no, only to be caught.

“They we’re in the botanical gardens with Leona…” he finally fessed, “Leona was taking a nap on them.”

Riddle’s little heart shaped hair antennas went straight in the air as his face went red. Trey could have sworn that smoke as pouring from his ears.

Of course it was Leona. A spat last week between Riddle and Leona must still be lingering in the air. All because Riddle said Savanaclaw can’t be excused from working in the arts and science festival, now he was using you to get to him?

Riddle marched his way to botanical garden. His face was scrunched so tightly and sternly that he almost looked constipated. As he stomped up to you and Leona, he softened slightly when he saw your eyes looking at him mournfully, and your arms trapped under Leona’s tight grip.

“Rosehearts.” The lion greeted, teeth glinting as he grinned, “Good to see you.”

Riddle narrowed his eyes, then leaned over and pulled you from Leona’s arms, much to Leona’s surprise (or possibly his plan, since the beastman was much stronger than this 7th grade looking teachers pet.)

“You missed the party.” Riddle said sternly.

“Oh, was that today?” Leona drawled in faux shock, “It completely slipped my mind. My apologies, truly.” He pouted, looking pleased with himself.

Riddle simply glared at him before tugging you away, “You’re never late. Why were you here?”

“I lost a bet.” You replied with exhaustion, “This was the price. I’m so sorry Riddle, I was looking forward to spending time with you.”

Instantly his mood shifted, and he threw another glare toward Leona before tugging you off.

“We’ll just have to have one of our own, to make up for it. C’mon, there’s treats left, and I’ll make us some tea. There’s this lovely Darjeeling I received in a package from my father that you’ll love.”

Azul

Azul tapped his toe impatiently as he looked at his watch. Mostro Lounge was ten minutes from opening and you still hadn’t arrived. Your shift was supposed to start 45 minutes ago, where were you? Well, he eventually grew tired of waiting and simply went to find you, leaving Jade in charge for the ten or so minutes it would take between finding you and bringing you back.

He had a generally good idea of who and where you would be held up, and he started at each location. Heartslabyul commons - nope. The alchemy classroom - no. Ramshackle - no, again. Perhaps you were stuck with an assignment for Crewel and gathering materials? You did seem to excel in Potionology, and Crewel did love to challenge his favorite students.

What he expected in the botanical gardens was to see you snipping flowers in a rush, or plucking roots from the soil. Maybe even watering the plants. What he didn’t expect was to see you trapped next to Leona, wrapped in his jacket (tied in a bow so you couldn’t use the arms, on backwards and zipped up like a straight jacket) with one of the lions arms slung over your side as you squirmed.

“Oi, herbivore, you lost the bet. Pay the price.”

“I’d rather deal with your wrath than the Leech twins. I watched Jade send someone into anaphylactic shock by ‘accidentally’ mixing peanuts into a dish. All because they were rude to one of the other servers. And I don’t wanna get squeezed either!”

Azul coughed to get their attention, resulting in both parties looking up at him. Leona wore a sly smirk as he looked up, while you wore a mildly terrified expression.

“You’re late for work.” Azul said tightly, “Leona, would you kindly release my worker?”

“Nah.” Leona said, proceeding to lay all the way on them. “They lost a bet with me. You know deals are made to be kept.”

“And what was this deal, exactly?” He asked, voice strained as he tried to keep it even. His knuckles where white under his gloves. He proceeded to hold his hands behind his back.

“He bet that I couldn’t evict all the ghosts from ramshackle in a month.” You said bashfully, “I said I could.”

Leona snickered and rubbed his head against their neck, “It’s fully legitimate.”

Azul adjusted his glasses, glaring at them both. “I thought you’d learned not to take deals with people after dealing with me, no?”

“Did you just admit that you’re shady?” You asked, suppressing a laugh.

“Perhaps.” He said, “Is there nothing I could negotiate in order for them to be freed?”

Leona laughed, then raised an eyebrow, “Aww, you care that much about one little herbivore? You goin soft on me?”

Azul glowered, “Mostro Lounge’s income triples whenever they work. They’re an invaluable asset, that’s all.”

“Mhmm, asset. Well, if you want…” Leona said. He got up and began to whisper with Azul as you struggled to sit up and free yourself from your jacket prison.

Azul continued to glare at Leona until he finally relented. “It’s a deal.” He said, snapping his fingers.

“No, no, no contract.” Leona insisted, “I’ll set ‘em free right now, but I ain’t signin’ that.”

Azul forced the golden scroll to disappear as Leona finally freed you. He tugged you to your feet and gave you a light shove to Azul.

“Have fun with that, herbivore.”

You rolled your eyes, “See you, Leona.”

As you and Azul walked back to Octavinelle, you murmured softly to him, “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” he laughed, though he sounded somewhat nervous, “You owe me now, you know that, don’t you?”

You sighed and nodded, “Yeah, but still. Thanks.”

He flushed a little, then looked away, “Of course, prefect. Can’t have my best worker out of commission, can I? Speaking of, you’re already late.”

Kalim

It’s odd for the ramshackle prefect and their talking cat to be late to Scarabia’s tri-weekly party. Whether this was for the food or because of Kalim’s company, that was a guess for anyone. It really seemed as though the housewarden and prefect were thick as thieves, going on carpet rides and walks alone more often than not.

So when you never arrived for lunch, Kalim got worried. He waited and waited, thinking perhaps you’d simply forgotten the time. He didn’t seek you out immediately - I mean, maybe you’re just busy? But he did go looking for you after he heard you were missing from classes too.

Leona wasn’t intending to make Kalim jealous. It honestly doesn’t seem like something he’d ever be, he’s so happy - but keeping you from Kalim made Jamil’s job harder, and Leona was pissed at him for snagging a spelldrive player and getting them on basketball club instead. Really, that’s fucking rude.

Kalim relaxed momentarily when he finally found you in the gardens, but a tight tingling met the back of his throat when he saw you were snuggled up with Leona. He looked away and rubbed at his eyes, then frowned.

This is where you were? Did you like Leona more than him now? Why didn’t you tell him you wouldn’t make it? Was he not a good enough friend? Did you not really like hi-

His train of thought is cut off when he looks up to see you sleepily staring at him, then detangling yourself from Leona for exactly one moment (Leona’s not letting go, but we’ll give a little more leash) to make grabby hands at Kalim.

Kalim obligingly came closer sitting close without touching.

“‘M sorry I didn’t come today.” You said, “Leona trapped me. I made a bet with him and lost.”

Kalim nodded quietly, “So…”

You opened your arms again, pulling him down to lay with you, “I wanted to hang out. I planned on coming, I swear, but Ruggie stole my phone.”

Kalim let you tug him down, settling down to snuggle with you and Leona.

“We’re still friends?” Kalim asked quietly.

“We’re best friends.” You said seriously, pulling him closer.

There, the three of you napped while the rest of the school was (metaphorically) on fire.

Vil

Oh boy. You skipped helping him film his new project. Spudling, did you think he wouldn’t notice? You’re quite vital for him! Who is supposed to be his general audience? Who will tell him if something is boring or too long or the shot is weird? Evidently, filming could NOT happen without you. Everything seemed like it was going wrong and Vil was NOT having it. So, he naturally stalked off to find you, leaving Rook to make sure every didn’t leave (or it’d be a worse fate than pissing off Riddle)

It didn’t take long before Vil cornered the idiot duo and made them spill where you were. Napping? In the gardens? With Kingscholar? ALL DAY?

How could you ruin your precious sleep schedule?! And especially on that mangey, dirty, lazy lion man?

Three minutes later he’s towering over you and Leona. Leona, who is staring back at him with and evil grin, and you, half awake, looking like you’re about to piss yourself.

“Spudling,” Vil began calmly, “What are you doing here?”

“RUGGIE STOLE MY PHONE-“ was the first thing you wailed.

This was cut off when Vil held up one hand, eyes closed as he took a deep breath, “Not what I asked. Try again.”

“They lost a bet.” Leona said cooly, “Said they could win an arm wrestling match with Epel.”

“He’s so much stronger than I expected…” you whispered, shuddering at the thought.

Vil stood there, trying to figure out if he should be proud, pissed, disappointed, or jealous.

“And this is the price of your bet?” Vil asked, staring at the beastman.

“Yep.” Leona said, popping the ‘p’ for dramatic effect.

“Hmm…” Vil looked around the gardens, “This could add a certain ambiance. Yes, this will do nicely for my project.”

Leona’s eyes went wide, then narrowed, “What do you mean, Schoenheit.”

“If you won’t let my Spudling come and help me, I will simply bring what I need help with here.”

The two held a staring contest for so long you were worried that time may have actually stopped. Leona blinked first, and let out a groan, “Oh fine.”

He untangled himself from you, mumbling, “You’ll just have to make up for this on another day, herbivore.”

Vil smirked as the two of you walked off, Vil with a confident strut and you in a daze.

“Spudling?” Vil asked sweetly, a hand moving to fix your hair as you walked.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t ever blow me off again.”

Idia

Honestly, Idia knew about this beforehand. He can see every text, email, and video feed inside the school, and he also can access all of Ortho’s files. So, he definitely knew.

He was just sort of silently hoping you would bail on Leona instead of him. Wouldn’t you rather watch anime or play star-whatever? Don’t you wanna snuggle and eat gummy worms with him while you infodump about everything you’ve learned recently and he offers random fun facts he knows while you talk so you know he’s listening? Don’t you wanna play mariokart with him and ortho?

Okay, maybe it’s just as boring, but he’s better company, right? Leona…Leona is a prince.

He ended up just sulking in his room, watching you through the botanical gardens security cameras until Ortho eventually appeared on screen.

“Leona Kingscholar, can you please let go of my brother’s friend? He’s sulking in his room.”

“No.”

Ortho did not accept this, and went into Child Mode, immediately beginning to annoy the shit out of Leona until he eventually gave in.

“Oh my sevens, fine. Herbivore, go to the little thunderstorm inside of Ignihyde. Just know you’re not getting out of paying up.”

You shrugged and nodded, saying goodbye. Twenty minutes later, you and Ortho arrived at Idia’s dorm room with two giant bags from Mr S’s shop.

“Sorry I’m late,” you said, despite not being late for anything, “I got caught by a lion.”

Ortho beamed at Idia, “I found them!”

“Yeah, you did. Great job Ortho!” Idia replied, words stumbling over themselves in the rush. He got up and came closer, tentatively pulling you into a hug.

“Please don’t stop hanging out with me because Leona’s cooler.”

you laughed, hugging him back, “I was just with him cause I lost a bet.”

“A bet?”

“Said I could steal Azul’s glasses from him.”

“…well that was dumb of you.”

“Thanks, sugar pie.”

“NANI?!”

Malleus

Listen, these two genuinely have it out for each other. No matter what, being around Leona is going to make Malleus insanely jealous.

“Child of man.” Malleus greets, standing directly above you.

You blink an eye open. You look at him, he looks at you, then he nods to Leona’s sleeping body beside you. He wears a blank look, but his eyes read pure firey hatred.

“I had hoped you’d accompany for the Gargoyle appreciate club meeting tonight. Come to find out, you were missing from classes all day. Is this where you’ve been?”

Leona finally ‘woke up’ and looked to Malleus. “You jealous?”

Malleus turned to look at him, unblinking, “I don’t take kindly to my things being stolen.”

“Things?” You asked, “Yours?”

He looked startled at his own words, the cleared his throat, “Ah, my friend. I apologize.”

Leona snorted, “His lizard side came out. Although, it’s never really hidden, is it?”

Malleus held in a growl, “You should know better than to test a dragon, Kingscholar.”

Leona shrugged, snuggling himself further into your side, ignoring the way you tensed at being in the middle of one of their spats.

“Hardly a dragon. Just an overgrown lizard.”

Malleus barely registered the fact that he used magic to remove you from Leona’s grip, instead being the one to hold you.

“I bid you good day, Kingscholar.”

“And where do you think you’re going with them?” Leona called, “They were with me fair and square. We had a deal.”

“A deal?” Malleus raised an eyebrow at you, then turned back to Leona, who was now standing, “What deal?”

“We made a bet.” He said smugly, walking closer, “Payment is that they have to spend a whole day napping in here with me.”

Malleus hummed, then turned to look out the window.

“It seems you did.”

Leona held out his arms, “So give ‘em back.”

“Ah,” Malleus grinned, “It’s past sundown now. That means the day is now over, and they’re free to go, does it not?”

There was a tense silence.

“Take ‘em.” Leona said, “I’m tired of nappin’ anyway. Got stuff to do.”

#twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #azul ashengrotto #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst #twst mc #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #malleus draconia #vil schoenheit #kalim al asim #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #kalim al asim x reader #malleus draconia x reader

[iovesia]

WIRES PULLING AS YOU'RE BREATHING.

❥⠀masterlist. ⠀:⠀ ( keanu reeves masterlist. )

synopsis : what it would be like to date evil ted logan.

warnings: toxic relationship. mentions of death & murder. brief nsfw. lowkey robot kink. lying. manhandling. slight fluff.

pairings : evil!ted logan  𝒙  gender neutral!reader.

josie's note .⁺ ˖ ⌒ this is so random, but icl.. evil ted has me acting up 🤭 ignore any grammar or spelling mistakes it's like 3am as i'm writing these oops. quick reminder, your media consumption is your own responsibility, read the warnings and enjoy! — reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated !! ♡

⠀

⠀

HOW YOU FIRST START DATING / "MEET"﹕

You two definitely started dating after Evil Ted killed his doppelgängers (or technically the original Ted).

Ted hadn't been answering the phone, so you decided to wait at his apartment. Picking at your nails, you waited anxiously for him to walk through the door. So when Evil Ted had come back to Ted's apartment to find you sitting there, it was pure coincidence.

You looked so relieved to see what you thought was Ted, that when you wrapped your arms around him, you ignored the quiet humming of an engine from Evil Ted's chest— thinking it was just your imagination.

However, a few days pass by and you slowly began to notice something off about Ted. His stiff movements, his new and unusual cruel tendencies, and you swore one time you saw one of his eyes popping out his skull.

Finally the day came when you confronted him about it.

"Ted, you've been.. acting weird lately. I don't know what happened, but something's changed," you murmur, cringing as you watch him grossly down another Twinkie down his throat. "Ted" stifled a chuckle as looked over to Evil Bill who was tampering with items on the shelf.

"Dude, she's dumber than you!" Evil Bill sniggers under his breath, and an equally condescending laugh escapes Teds lips. You glanced between the two giggling friends, before letting out a scoff.

"Screw this, I'm not doing this anymore," you stand up from the couch, hooking your bag over your shoulder. Suddenly, a strong grip pulls you back. You turn and see Ted's hand wrapped tightly around your wrist. "Ted, let go!" You huff, trying to your hardest to pull your arm back. But, his unhuman strength kept you firmly planted in your spot.

"No can do, babe," Ted grins. That mechanic, sinister smile on his face, along with the blank, darkened look in his eyes was enough to set off the red flags in your head.

It's safe to say you passed out once Evil Ted revealed his true identity to you (by ripping his stomach flesh open, exposing the set of wires and spinning cogs).

WHAT IT WOULD BE LIKE ONCE YOU START "DATING"﹕

After the reveal, you're pretty much stuck with him. Now that Evil Ted had you, he intended on keeping you around for a while. Plus, there's no way he could convince De Nomolos to make an evil clone of you, so he'll stick with what he's got.

Somewhat possessive. Although he's a robot and doesn't technically feel things, he can't stop the cogs rapidly spinning in his chest when he sees you getting friendly with someone else.

"Beat it, loser," Evil Ted abruptly appears from behind you, interrupting your conversation. He drapes his arm around your neck, roughly pulling you closer against his metallic chest.

Will lie to you about almost anything. Like.. literally even about things that there's no need to lie about. He'll tell you it's gonna rain a lot later today, just to see you stand in the California heat looking ridiculous in a raincoat and boots. You roll your eyes as he just snickers under his breath.

Being a robot, he basically has super strength and tends you man-handle you quite a lot. He'll drag you towards him, pick you up over his shoulder or when he's feeling a little nice, he'll give you a piggy-back ride.

Lowkey a horn-dog. He loves touching you; the feel of your soft, warm skin against his cold, metal hands almost makes him feel alive. (Random side-note, he loves when you tug his hair.)

He doesn't get jealous, except it is of a certain, air-headed lookalike. Sometimes, he'd catch you looking at old photos of you and the original Ted, and that's when it really starts to click that, even with the same looks and dumb sense of humour, he'd never be better than the original.

It's with moments like those, where he tries to act a little nicer with you.

"You're looking most excellent today, babe," Evil Ted grins, as he takes a comfortably close seat next to you on the couch.

Even though he's programmed to be pure evil, and do evil deeds; he still has his soft moments. I mean, he's a copy of Ted, who is was the sweetest person you knew. Sometimes, when you're already deep in your slumber, he'll inch closer to you and wrap an arm around your waist.

Over the duration of your relationship, he does eventually grow to genuinely care about you (rather than just keeping you around just to spite original Ted).

⠀

#ted logan x reader #evil ted logan x reader #ted logan imagine #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #evil ted logan

[deceitfuldevout]

Hidden Treasure (Part 6)

Arranged Marriage AU: Dark!Tommy Shelby x Wife!Reader

Warning(s): +18, Non con, Physical abuse, Manhandling, Oral (F receiving).

Author's note(s): Reader's punishment turns into a reward oop--

Tommy shows you the consequences of humiliating him, or so you thought.

Tommy opens the door, “Out,” he huffs. You look up, still trapped in a fear ridden trance. His face is twists when he shouts, “NOW!” his booming voice made you jump. Slowly, you exit the vehicle with your head hung low, as you follow him into the house. Each step felt heavier than the next. Until you had to drag your feet across the gravel.

As soon as you’ve made it inside, Tommy shoves you against a wall. It knocks the wind right out your lungs. His form towers over yours. His face now in front of yours, his nose brushes against yours, “What the fuck was that? Hm?!” he huffs. Your bottom lip quivers, “I-I didn’t mean to lead him on Tommy...I-I swear-” you sob. He scoffs, “But you did oh…you did just that my love,"

How could you explain what really happened if he kept denying you a chance?! Tommy had kept pushing you today. To the point where it angered you enough to your raise your voice, “It’s not like that! I’m not one of those whores you've slept with!” your hands reach to cover your mouth. You couldn’t believe you were brave enough to stand up to him. Especially after the incident you pulled.

Tommy would often compare you to them. During his single bachelor days, him and his brothers spent most of their nights going through woman after woman. He'd taunt you with how you were now his personal whore, his property, and that no one else should touch what's his. All he sees is red. He hauls you over his shoulder, "Is that what you want? To be treated like a whore?!"

You barely have enough time to register what was happening before he threw you on nearest couch. You lift yourself up to face him. Your dress straps sliding down in the process. He's on top of you, straddling your waist as he grips your chin and growls, “Turn around, don't make me say it again,” he pulls your zipper down. Your gown slides off your figure. No longer are you hidden from his eyes.

A hand pushes down on your lower back. You land on the couch. Your head turns to the side with your cheek pressed firmly against a cushion. Your hands clench the soft material. Mentally you’ve adapted, but physically was always the hard part. What you weren’t ready for was a harsh slap against your rear.

Your head whips back in confusion, spotting Tommy readying to strike again. One of your hands reaches behind to push him away but your attempt was futile. He only stops briefly to unbuckle his belt. Your wrists are held together as he wraps them with the leather binding.

He proceeds to strike your backside over and over again. Each sting harsher than the next one that follows. No sign of hesitation or mercy was shown. No such thing existed in the house of Thomas Shelby. You’ve learned your lesson from before, during that horrid night.

After a while his firing ceases. He takes a step back to gaze at the display in front of him. His little wife was bent over with fresh markings that decorated her backside. A provocative view had made blood rush straight to his manhood. A strain now beginning to form in his trousers. Your seductive position was luring in his primitive side, and he wants a taste.

All of a sudden, you feel a wet sensation against your folds. Tommy began licking long, strong stripes against your cunt. Two of his digits spread your lips. While his tongue now delved into your opening. You felt the muscle flicking around inside. The feeling alone made your walls flutter with bliss. His other arm held you in place. You felt his fingers digging into your fresh bruises. You whine from the sting, hissing from the raw pain.

Tommy notices your discomfort. He tilts his head up to bury his tongue deep into your womanhood. Your small gasps turn into moans. Only Tommy had the power to turn your pain into pleasure. A minute in had you soaked and pushing your hips back. So close yet so far from an orgasm. He was teasing you on purpose. A long finger dips in and your back arches. He pulls it out to inspect. His fingers now coated with your arousal.

Tommy shows you the outcome, “This what you wanted dear?” he presses his head against your ear and whispers, “Did you miss your husband? Is that it?” his breath tickles the shell, causing you to jerk your neck back. You flash him a tearful glare, “No...” was all you could muster. He chuckles, “No?” amusement lingers his voice. He presses his tip against your folds before jerking his hips up. You gasp from the stretch. It was rough yet pleasurable, like a slow burn.

Tommy began thrusting at a jagged pace. His hands cling your hips. His pelvis slams your forward as he ruts roughly into you. Everything about the act itself was dripping with lewdness, but oddly enough it felt amazing. His voice now a deep groan, “Tell me, who fucks you this good?” he slows down his pace. Now grinding his hips now rotating in a torturous motion that made your toes curl with pleasure. When you could only muster up a moan, he slaps your rear again for an answer. You yelp, “You do!”

“Say it again, like you mean it,” his voice is louder while his pace quickens,

“You fuck me this good Tommy! Only you!”  

He returns to bludgeoning your womanhood. Right against that sweet, sensitive spot. He doesn’t stop even after you come undone and made a mess of the expensive cushions. Tommy made sure to finish inside, filling you to the brim. You couldn't believe how shameless you’d become.

All because of this man. You pry yourself up on your elbows. You lift your head off of the now wet cushion. Your makeup long ruined and face now flushed with fresh tears of humiliation. As always, Tommy had gotten exactly what he wanted. Lighting up a cigarette after having his way with you.

#dark!tommy #dark!tommy shelby #dark!tommy shelby x reader #dark!thomas shelby #dark!thomas shelby x reader #reader #reader insert #fem!reader #fab!reader #dark!fic #dark!fanfic #dark!fanfiction #dark!smut #dark fic #dark fanfic #dark fanfiction #dark smut #my work #my works #hidden treasure fanfiction

[distopea]

@strawberryxdreams

[ HEAT ]:      while in the middle of a make-out session, sender pushes the receiver up against the wall, unwittingly heating things up even more. Rhys for Marlo oops

𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒.

Marlo loved to tease Rhys. The wolf always had the best reaction whenever he was pushing on his buttons, growls and other threats leaving his throat, but soon forgotten by the sudden heat he was experiencing. Marlo felt at ease with him – they both shared the same animal instinct, so they were very well aware of the desires of the other one. Marlo wanted to see if those desires might lead them to something more carnal, and today frankly, he was certainly in that mood.

All of his kisses were cut short by permanent nibbling on his side and other licks, just to see how Rhys might lose patience. Their making out session was just an aftermath of their reunion, but surely, he knew that Rhys was close to losing control. He was far more passionate, each second reinforcing his will to put Marlo in his place. It felt so good. After a little while, Rhys eventually snapped. Marlo’s back would suddenly hit the wall of the room, a little content chuckle abandoning his opened mouth while he lengthily licked the other one’s cheek.

“Are you in heat or what?” Marlo asked with his everlasting smirk, his fingers brushing Rhys’ crotch, fervently pleased to notice that recognizable bulge down there. He could tell that today he wouldn’t be the one topping, but he didn’t mind, sometimes it was good to be the object of someone’s intense lust. He clearly couldn’t contain his moans when Rhys kissed him harder than before, things escalating between the two of them. It was the perfect timing to rip his lover’s top, his claws even brushing his skin with the motion. He wouldn’t be sorry about it; clothes were just an accessory between a wolf and a fox relationship. 

“You’re being a bad boy?” Marlo snarled between two kisses, cocking his head aside when the wolf began to attack his neck with furious bitings. He knew he wouldn’t walk out of this room without a new canvas of fresh marks, but it was worth it. Marlo still wanted to tease the other one, but with the way Rhys was once more furiously chewing on his mouth, he understood that he wanted to shut him up. It was for the best. Marlo deserved to be manhandled for his troublemaking attitude.

And he CRAVED it.

#; strawberryxdreams #⌇ask ( 𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙤 ) #⌇infernal trickster and master of enigmas ( 𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙤 | ic ) #⌇granting your wishes ( 𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙤 | main verse ) #⌇animals festivities ( 𝙈𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙤 / 𝙍𝙝𝙮𝙨 ) #tw: suggestive #; the switching energy is way too intense your honor #; Marlo is really looking for Rhys to snap gfsyd not sorry

[jadedxfemme]

1 to 10 :D

1. Tag your biggest Tumblr crush

I actually don’t think I have a Tumblr crush. Are there blogs I would fuck in an instant if they asked? Yes, and they’ll know it if they see this. But I'm too shy to tag them oop

10. What is the hottest thing someone has ever done with you in bed? 

This isn’t one specific scene but sort of multiple. So I love being made to feel small and weak, I love it when my partner is able to push me around and basically just dominate me with ease. So I’d say during scenes when my ex, who was a fairly strong guy, would straight up manhandle me and push me around while he talked down on me. He’d lift me up and drag me towards him whenever we’d change positions, and he’d degrade me while he did so. At one point I remember he was able to lift me up and continue fucking me while I still off the ground.

Ofc we had talked about it prior, so everything was consensual and expected. But the way he did it and the things he would say were always such a turn on. Its one of the reasons I love degradation so much today.

#ask game #nsft post

[bonny-kookoo]

Yoongi: Predator 🔞

His mother always used to say: "don't play with your food.". Well, then again- Yoongi has never really done what anybody told him to. And playing with you is way too much fun.

Spin off to: Prey.

Tags/warnings: Alien!Yoongi, human!reader, Angst, fluff, mean!yoongi, fluffy though here and there, strangers to lovers oops, jungkook and his human make an appearance, jealousy, love-hate, size difference, mentions of oppression, PTSD, Drugging, licking, biting, manhandling, smut, oral (f. receiving), handjob (m. receiving), cumplay, yoongi swears a lot

Wordcount: 5.6k

A/N: Because yall were thirsty for a yoongi spin off.

Being hungry sucked.

Your stomach growls as you lay on your side, still upset over the loss of your dinner to that weird guy this morning. You really hoped that dude choked on it, hopefully it was moldy and would make him sick. But you quickly shake your head- your mom always said to never think that way about anyone, or it would hit you back twice as bad.

But then again, your mother also wasn't around no more.

In fact, no one was around anymore. You always managed to maybe find some place for a night here and there- but you weren't proper pet-material for Louri. They liked the docile kind, the one's that would do as said and act however they wanted to. But you weren't that. You were still your own person- and you liked your distance, your own space, your own free will.

You were getting tired.

However, complaining didn't do much to your current situation, as you simply decided to sleep through your hunger, drifting off into a dreamless sleep, as a pair of Louri eyes watch you for a moment, thinking.

Yoongi could always use the cash he'd get in exchange for you.

It's not like he cared much- you were just another stray lying around. But for some reason, Jungkooks whole fiasco with his own human pet had made him feel.. Weird. The human the young Louri had gotten himself was, rather, pleasant to be around, so to say. It wasn't like he wanted one for himself- but he couldn't really see the human species as nothing but prey anymore.

So for a change, Yoongi simply let you be- walking past, without thinking about it again.

----

You're asleep on his couch.

Today really didn't go the way he thought it would. After almost getting attacked by some random guy down the street, he'd really thought he'd seen it all today. But then there'd been you, eyes squeezed shut, closed umbrella still in hand- the handle of it having made very harsh contact with the human guy's head. It's not like yoongi had needed the help- much less from a flimsy thing like you, of all things- but somehow, it had intrigued him.

You wore no collar, no ID, nothing. A stray, you layer introduced yourself, ready to get brought to authorities by him since he technically had to. You weren't allowed to run around like this.

"Saving species' that kill you seem to be a hobby for your kind." Yoongi mocks as he stands up, towering over you with his hands in his pockets, cool gaze looking down at you. His eyes are an almost slate blue- some warm undertones in it, however.

You don't look away from him. He's not scary- if he wanted to hurt you, he could've done that already. "He'd stolen my lunch yesterday. I simply got revenge." You state, no sign of being intimidated.

It takes a moment, before yoongi has to laugh, genuinely amused. You were clearly something else- not as fragile as you looked, at least not mentally. "Kinda wanna keep you." He says.

"I'd be stupid to deny that." You say. "Though, I've been taken in by one's of your kind before. I never get to stay long." You explain.

"Why's that?" He asks, stoic face having returned.

"Cause I talk back." You admit truthfully. "I'm not a pushover or toy." You say.

And yoongi grins yet again, sharp canines on full display.

"Perfect." He'd told you, before he had grabbed the back of your torn sweater, bringing you to the next registration desk to get some papers for you filed.

Inside his apartment, he pushes you into his bathroom, making you look at him in wonder. "Strip." He says, and your gaze becomes defensive. "Don't look at me like that, I don't want to screw you, but you stink." He complains, turning around to leave the room. "I'll get something better for you to wear. Go shower already." He grumbles on his way out, and you stay still for a moment, curious of what he'd do if you simply.. didn't. When he comes back and see's you're still standing, his eyes harden a good amount; as he places the clothes down on the closed toilet. "Don't make me undress you myself, you brat." He warns.

"Do you want to see me naked that bad?" You tease. "Didn't take you for one who enjoys that human-kink stuff. But then again, I don't know you." You say, and he turns you around a little roughly, pulling the sweater over your head in a swift moment. By now, you've lost the shame in being nude in front of Louri- they don't take it all that serious like humans do, after all, and he's not the first to take you in. So you simply chuckle, as he pushes you towards the shower.

"Go, for hell's sake." He growls, as you finally comply, stepping out of your clothes before you enter the shower. He can't help but look at your back- not in a sexual manner, but because of the faint and fresh scars decorating your skin in random spots. There's a bruise on your left side as well- and he wonders how it had managed to get there. It makes him feel weird, as he instead takes your clothes to distract him. He throws them in the trash- in a way, a clear-cut from your old life. You're his now-

And he won't allow anything to break or hurt what's his.

----

He looks at you scarf down your food with an amount of enthusiasm that would make Jungkook seem docile. You seem to be starving- gulping down water alongside your food until you finally finish your meal, leaning back. "I'll so get a stomachache!" You laugh out, and yoongi can't really see the joke in it as he mindlessly reaches over with a tissue to wipe your mouth.

"Don't see why that's nice." He says, continuing to rather ungracefully clean your mouth. "You eat like a pig." He comments, and you shrug.

"Haven't had a stomachache from too much food in a long while." You say. Yoongi understands, but doesn't openly react as he puts the bowl and cutlery away in the sink to wash tomorrow. "Guess I'll take the floor?" You say, walking after him like a lost dog as he scoffs.

"Why the hell would you sleep on the floor?" He wonders as he throws a pillow down onto the couch, a blanket already around your shoulders. "There, sleep." He commands, as you get onto the couch, way higher than what you're used to. But then again, Louri were naturally way taller too. "I'll think of something permanent tomorrow. Gotta get you a collar or some shit too." He mumbles, before he simply leaves the room, turning off the lights before he retreats into his own bedroom.

The room is quiet and eerie, and it makes you feel odd. Until now, everyone had always tried to make you feel welcome, even if it was just a facade- but he was painfully honest of his distaste in your species. However, there was some underlying softness in what he did- after all, he'd taken you in.

Inside his bedroom, yoongi struggles to find rest as well.

He feels uncomfortable, like he's forgetting something important. Like he's missing something he doesn't know. He's got his week off of work, and he knows that he's turned off all the lights. He wonders if you're comfortable, if you're sleeping already. Jungkook had told him that his human was rather clingy. Did you need company to fall asleep? Hopefully not.

He'd never let a human sleep in his bed.

As he walks out the room, he spots you on the couch, wide awake, as he sees the reflection of your open eyes in his window across from you. "Why are you still awake?" He asks.

"Why are you still awake?" You parrot back at him, making him roll his eyes and cross his arms.

"I asked you first." He defends, and you grin.

"I asked you second." You say, and his gaze hardens- but this time, it seems less intimidating.

"Shut up." He simply tells you. "Why can't you sleep?" He asks, and you shrug.

"Sometimes I just can't.", you say. "I'll be quiet though so you can sleep." You say.

"Well I can sense you through the walls and it's pissing me off." He says. "I'll knock you out if you don't sleep." He warns, and you shrug, snuggling up into the blanket.

"Wouldn't be the first." You simply mumble, as he stands there for a moment, before he walks off into his bedroom to retrieve something he throws at you a few moments later. He doesn't say anything, simply closes his bedroom door after himself as you stare at his sweater, before balling it up and holding onto it during the night.

Sleep finding you only minutes after.

----

"She's already registered." Seokjin tells Yoongi, while you look around, swaying your legs back and forth on the stretcher in the corner of the room. "Marked as missing." He informs Yoongi, who furrows his brows.

"you ran off?" He questions, and you shrug.

"hmhm." You simply answer, and Seokjin chimes in.

"I think I might have an idea why." He says, before he turns the screen of his pc around so Yoongi can see whatever he apparently needs to. "She's got traces of Simax in her system. And she's got multiple small puncture wounds in her neck area." He explains, and Yoongi becomes serious.

"So that's what you meant yesterday." He mumbles towards you, and you only look at him- no indication of what you're thinking. Simax was technically a heavy painkiller- but occasionally used over the counter to make humans quiet, since the effect was way bigger in humans than in Louri. You don't know what he's thinking either- if he's getting ideas now, or if he's now disgusted by you. "You've been drugged." He says.

"Darling, I'd say I'll file in for official removal, but it'll take a moment. I'll have to take some pictures, is that okay?" He asks, and you simply shrug, nodding. "I'll write you in as a temporary home for now." He tells Yoongi, who only nods, not looking at anything in particular, while Seokjin takes pictures of your current condition.

Yoongi doesn't know what to think.

He'd taken you in as a bit of a joke- just to not be so fucking lonely all the time anymore. But this seemed way more serious than he could've ever thought. And as he takes the small envelope from Seokjin, containing a microchip for your collar, he takes it way more eagerly than he'd intended to.

----

"Don't drink so fast, idiot." He scolds, as you reluctantly lower the bottle of juice again, before making eye contact with him. "Don't look at me like that, I don't want you to throw up at home and make a mess." He says. "Or worse, here in public." He mumbles to himself, as you stretch out your legs, swaying back and forth a little. He's noticed you doing that quite a lot- Seokjin mentioned its from the drugs leaving your system, causing you to feel a little restless. It's supposed to wear down soon- but for some reason, he actually thinks its not all that bad.

He could almost consider it cute.

"Don't they have the same flavour for like-" You say, forcing yourself to still, not wanting to annoy the Louri next to you. "-popsicles, or something?" You wonder, and Yoongi shrugs.

"Why?" He asks. "You like 'em or something?" He wonders, and you shrug.

"Seen them a lot when I was grocery shopping for my past owners. Slipped one in once, but they noticed." You say. "Forgot how they tasted." You shrug, and Yoongi internally cringes a bit. You're so easy-going with the whole topic of your past home, as if none of what happened had been bad at all. It makes him weirdly frustrated, as he suddenly stands up, making you jump down from the bench as well, bottle of juice still in hand as you look up at him.

You walk alongside him, and though he's not very obvious with it, he tries to keep you close at all times, not touching, but still making sure. "What are we doing here yoongs?" You wonder, and he scoffs.

"First of all, stop calling me that." He mumbles, before he clumsily takes your hand, entering the small grocery store. "And second of all, lets get that shitty popsicle so I can go home and sleep." He complains, while your eyes start to sparkle, a sudden skip in your step as you hold his hand tighter.

----

He ends up buying an entire box, though he keeps an eye on how much you eat at once.

You're sitting on his bed, in the very middle of it- upper body bare, while Yoongi sits down behind you, opening the paper bag he got from Seokjin. You enjoy your popsicle, uncaring it seems while Yoongi unscrews the tube of salve- and its his touch that makes you freeze a little. He's usually rather rough and clumsy- but while his fingers are cold, they're gentle, almost hesitant.

You don't say anything, not wanting to make him feel any weirder than he probably already does. You would've done all this yourself, but sadly your arms didn't reach your back, so he kind of had to help you, in a way. You wonder if he worries about hurting you- you highly doubt that he'd ever do it though.

He already had many chances to hurt you.

"Done." He tells you after a while, and you pull down your shirt- more so his, way too big for you but comfortable and warm against your skin. You just sleepily fall to your side, stretching, while Yoongi does something remarkable for once:

He just turns off the lights, and goes to sleep.

"Yoongs?" You ask timidly.

"I told you to stop calling me that, stupid." He mumbles, while you crawl up on the bed, laying right behind him. "..what?" He asks.

"Can I sleep here?" You ask, genuinely wondering- and he just doesn't move, pulling the covers higher up on himself instead.

"Don't care." He says.

But he secretely catches himself enjoying the way you start to cling onto him during the course of the night.

----

He takes you to work with him, and he doesn't expect himself to feel so.. protective of you.

Though he introduces you to Tae as his 'emergency food' in case human meat gets banned one day- he'd never lay a finger on you. The way you look at him a bit scandalized makes him grin a little involuntarily however- and its something the younger Louri working with him notices, but chooses not to talk about.

You're actually pretty helpful; though your memory is kind of all over the place, you're great at keeping track of time somehow. 'used to be a hobby, you know.' you'd told him randomly once, when he'd scoffed at your dramatic exclaim that he'd left you alone for more than 600 seconds, and that that didn't count as 'just a moment' anymore at all. 'Used to count the seconds people would visit our home.' you'd said, and Yoongi had clicked his tongue at that, ruffling your hair.

'That's not home anymore, stupid.' he'd told you in his usual grumpy voice.

And he's right- kind of.

The small pendant on your collar jingles a bit every now and then whenever you move a lot- with Taehyung having playfully remarked that it probably was 'yoongi's personal tracker' for you. Louri's senses were a lot better than humans- meaning that just because you couldn't hear your collar, didn't mean Yoongi couldn't either. He was able to hear every move you made- and Taehyung was surprisingly right about the intention of it. Though Yoongi would never say it out loud, he likes knowing where you are.

Especially in situations like these; your body completely frozen, standing in front of two Louri- a couple who seem to recognize you instantly. "We've searched everywhere!" The woman says- though there's a clear scolding to her tone as well, making Yoongi tense up.

"Come here." He says, but you're unable to move. You can't decide what to do- you don't want to make a scene, cause harm to Yoongi, or go back with them. You didn't want this situation at all.

"I swear we thought snatched you up for dinner-" The woman continues, walking towards you, as Yoongis voice becomes more demanding, more commanding. More desperate.

"Y/N. Come here." He tries again, but you're stuck in place- fear making your muscles useless.

"You're the one who filed removal, yeah?" The man belonging to the woman barks out, clearly looking for a fight. "Who the hell you think you are, butting into someone else's business like that." He scolds, as if Yoongi was nothing more than a child, and granted, it pisses him off.

What really sets him off however, is the small injection device the woman pulls out her purse- your hands instantly lifting to try and prevent her from doing anything, but her movements are as if trained for years. It's quick, but he can see the way she pulls down the collar yoongi has give to you, before she injects what he assumes is highly possibly the same drug you've still had traces of in your system when he'd found you. The way you begin to sway, dropping to your knees, makes his blood boil to a point that's not good at all- the injection easily rushing through your body.

He doesn't hear Taehyungs call for him to stop at all, as he bares his fangs, going for the woman's neck as he pushes her to the ground, her partner trying to get him off of her. He manages to do just that, scratching Yoongis face, before he can react and evade. It only seems to fuel him even further though, as he opens his jaw, ready to rip the man's throat- but he's pulled back by strong arms, the guy scrambling on the ground to get away.

Yoongi's ears are filled with cotton- he can't hear, his blood is rushing too loud, everything around him too bright, too saturated. He feels overwhelmed for a good minute, before he gets his breathing under control, finally able to hear Seokjin's voice calling out to him. "There you are." He says, and Yoongi finally looks at him. "Okay? Still angry?" He asks, reffering to the rush of going feral for a second, and Yoongi shakes his head.

He's still angry- but he's got it under control again.

You're sitting somewhere further away, Taehyung holding you with a worried face- but you're at least visibly unharmed. It's the look your eyes send him that really makes him feel bad. The way your eyes are glazed over by a veil it seems, hazy, mind not quite there anymore. You're still the human girl he's decided to keep- but its like you're only in the backseat of your body, not there, but not gone either.

And he hates it.

----

Turns out, Seokjin had wanted to inform Yoongi that his status had been changed from being a temporary owner to permanent. The removal had been approved after their home had been investigated, and been deemed unfit for a human to live in. And while Yoongi doesn't consider himself a good person at all- he'd never put you or any of your kind through the things they've done- using you as nothing but a pet to display and be gawked at. You don't deserve this, he decides, as he helps you wash your body back home.

Home, meaning his apartment. At his side.

You're still out of it, And Seokjin had already mentioned that what you needed most right now was rest. And he'd let you, as long as you needed to.

---

"Come on you little shit, we both know neither of us want to dry your hair later." He complains, tying your hair up as to not get it wet in the bathtub. Its been a few weeks since you've been permanently put into his care, and you've clearly blossomed into a very bold personality. You know by now that Yoongi is all bark and no bite with you- rarely ever getting actually upset at you for anything. You like teasing him, testing his boundaries here and there- and he kind of just.. lets you.

Truth be told, he enjoys how comfortable you've become around him.

Mostly because you've grown to be very attached to him- closed off and disinterested in others, while you always reach for him in public for reassurance and comfort. Although on the outside he complains, he cant be seriously annoyed by you. Not by a long shot.

And maybe, just maybe- there's a little more to it than meets the eye.

Because recently, Yoongi has grown more than just friendly with you. The signals he sends out to you, the way he behaves whenever you're alone, they're clear as day- but you're still worried you might be reading too much into his rare displays of kindness. The way he shows affection isnt as open as Jungkook with his human- you've seen them by now, multiple times, and its a very sweet scene to see. Of course you'd wish for open gestures like that too- you're a person after all, you crave love as well, deep down. But Yoongi- he was just not like that, and that was fine.

He showed that he cared in different ways instead.

Like now, as he lets you into the bathtub first, warm water welcoming you before he undresses as well- for the first time joining you openly. Usually, he doesn't like being all too close and personal with you- but then again, things seem to slowly change and evolve between you two, and you take whatever affection you can get from him with eager hands.

"Jungkook's human is cute." You comment randomly, as you hear the water slosh, Yoongi moving around behind you. He only hums, before he answers.

"Maybe." He says, before you can feel the soft washrag on your shoulder, his hands moving it over your skin.

"Would you ever? You know.. go out with a human?" You ask him boldly.

"I go outside with you everyday you idiot." He answers, and you chuckle.

"No- I mean like, would you-" You start, and his hand wraps around your neck from behind for a second, adjusting your head so your hair wont get wet.

"I know what you meant." He says, continuing his task at hand for a while, no words exchanged for a good moment. "No." He answers finally, and you can't help but feel it sting a bit. Of course not- he's Yoongi. He's eaten humans before, for crying out loud! There's no way he'd ever get together with a pet like you. "I don't like cheating. Or that whole.. multiple partners shit." He goes on, confusing you. What? "Why?" He suddenly asks. "You fancy Jungkook's human?" He wonders, and you turn around at this- mouth opening to talk, but it closes instantly, as you're faced with his bare chest- forcing you to turn around like that. "To imagine you speechless for once, gotta mark that day in my calendar as the day she finally shut up for more than ten minutes." He jokes, before you notice his chin resting on top of your head suddenly. "To be clear; I only need one human in my life." He says.

"And thats you."

His words make your eyes widen as you become unsure what to do now. Yoongi's affection is so sparingly spread around that it overwhelms you to hear something like that so suddenly. It confuses you to no ends, making you wonder if he's just making fun of you again. "You don't want me?" He wonders, and this time you turn around, looking at him as the water sloshes around, just as all over the place for a moment as your thoughts.

"Of course I do!" You reply eagerly- and its then, that you suddenly witness something remarkable.

He's smiling.

And its not the impish grin he usually holds whenever he's amused by Taehyungs constant mishaps at work- no, his eyes are almost soft, lips turned upwards in a gentle smile as he looks at you-

before he takes the washrag and runs it over your face.

"Yoongs-" You complain instantly. "Now you ruined the moment!" You say, shaking your head before you open your eyes, only able to see him come closer, until his lips are already on yours, absolutely no hesitation or shyness at all. He's moving towards you fully, hands next to your head resting against the edge of the tub, upper body now exposed from the water- but your eyes are closed at the feeling of his kisses- both rough and clumsy, but also caring and needy.

He's not holding back, as soon as he notices you accepting his advances.

Because while Yoongi seems to be neither good with his words nor his actions, he wants to show you that he cares. He's loved before, he's no monster- but he's also been hurt before, humiliated to the point of believing that the mere idea of love is useless and simply made up. There's nothing romantic about lying to someone, and promising empty dreams.

But he wants to try that one last time with you.

He desperately wants to, as he can't help but stray away from your lips, eagerly nipping at your neck, marking the part your collar usually sits. The collar he gave you, the collar that shows everyone that you're his- and he wants you to be his, not just on paper and in official documents.

He wants to own all of you, and that includes your affection.

It's amusing to him how meek and shy you suddenly are, at the hand of his open desire for you. You can't help the gasp that falls from your lips as his hand moves underwater onto your hip, leading your movements against his thigh between your legs. The water sloshes around, tumbling over the edge of the tub as you listen to it splatter onto the tiled floor of his bathroom. "T-The water-" You stutter out, and he licks your neck before he bites a bit harder than before.

"Fuck the water." He grits out as he makes you rut your core against his thigh in the warm water- and its clear that the sight of you like this must have an effect on him, if his hard on was anything to go by. You can feel it against your skin every now and then, and it makes you squirm in eagerness- the fact that you effect him in any way fueling your soul to no ends.

He suddenly helps you onto the edge of the tub- your back resting against the wall while he holds your legs with both hands, securing you in place it seems for what he's about to do. His gaze is unwavering as he dives in- no trace of shame or shyness in his eyes as his tongue licks through your folds, a sight you can't enjoy any longer as your eyes suddenly shut in pleasure, breathing unsteady under his antics. He loves the sight of you like this, he decides- not because of the sexual aspect, but because you're trusting him. You're so vulnerable like this, opened in every way shape and form, completely at his mercy- you're falling into his hands basically, fully expecting him to catch you.

He'll always catch you, no matter what.

And he'll especially keep sending you to heaven like this if you're always so sweet during it- the act itself so filthy as he sucks and swallows, while your mewls and whimpers fill the bathroom, sounds echoing off the walls to jump around just as much as your breathing seems to do. He's amused by it, for the first time eager to draw out someone else's pleasure just for the fun of it as he detaches himself from you just to exchange his tongue and lips with his fingers, before he dives in to kiss you again. He's never been a fan of it, since its such a deeply intimate thing for his kind- but with you, he'd share all of them.

You deserve them.

He watches you with a fixed gaze, as if he doesn't want to miss a single second of your peak as you come undone under his hand. The way you clench around his two fingers still inside you forces him to imagine the feeling around his length that's been neglected this whole time- but he didn't even notice that all that much. "You're pretty when you cum." He hums out, and you chuckle at that, laughing as you come down from your high. "Really now? I just complimented you, brat." He complains, but when you look at him, he looks anything but upset.

You easily slide back into the tub, this time the one to advance towards him as he suddenly feels your smaller hands on his cock underwater, softly touching him as if to get a feeling for it. You pout after a moment, something he notes with amusement in his face. "You expecting something?" He teases, as you huff.

"Doesn't it feel good at all?" You ask him, because his lack of obvious reaction makes you question if you're not just making a fool of yourself right now. You really want to save yourself the embarrasement.

But his hands underwater pull yours back to where they were, and only now do you notice the slight sweat on his forehead, and the mild reddish hue over his cheeks. "Don't worry." He hums out, as you move again, hands wandering in ways that make him feel more than just pleasure. "It feels incredible, darling." He says, and you're caught off guard by the petname for a moment before he gets up again, leaning over youas he strokes himself to finish, leaning down to kiss you eagerly while you can feel his seed drip onto your chest.

You would've never taken him for the messy type- but the way his hand shamelessly runs over your chest, grabbing at your breasts uncaring of his own cum he's spreading over your skin sends a clear message. "I'm not stupid like that kid." He mumbles with an almost growling undertone- the kid probably reffering to Jungkook you assume, since he's younger than him by a good few years as far as you know. "I'll make sure everyone knows you're mine." He says, before he bites yet again at the skin on the side of your neck, leaving his marks, before he reluctantly lets you wash up again.

You would've also never taken him for the cuddly-kind. But he's not letting go of you throughout the night, constantly pulling you closer as soon as you stray away too far for his liking.

Min Yoongi was a weird one- not only because of his species.

-----

"So much about 'not playing with your food'." Taehyung teases with a look towards you sitting on the chair Yoongi usually occupies, a book in easy-to-read Louri language in your hand whole you sway your legs a little. He's recently learned that you can actually read easy writings pretty well- so he'd maybe bought some books to help you practice your reading skills a little. After all, its welcomed: he doesn't just want you to sit around and be bored, and leaving you home all day wasn't an option either. He needs you close, where he can see you at all times. "She practically stinks of you." Taehyung comments, making Yoongi roll his eyes as he sends him a glare.

"First of all, I'm not 'playing' with my food, I'm keeping her entertained so she doesn't get bored and come up with some shitty ideas-" He mumbles, fumbling around with some parts of the machine he's repairing, before he finally seems to get it back into place. "Second of all, I don't stink. Your senses are just shit." He comments, wiping his oil stained hands on a rag before he looks over to where you sit, visibly checking if you're still okay.

Taehyung laughs. "I'm happy." He comments, making Yoongi look at him in question- but the younger Louri just shrugs. "You're less grumpy. She must have some magic or something." He jokes, as Yoongi suddenly carries his signature devil smirk.

"Got some magic hands, that's for sure." He says, and Taehyung suddenly cringes, holding his hands over his ears dramatically.

"Ew, I really did NOT need to know that!" He whines, walking off as Yoongi simply chuckles to himself, before he notices your gaze on him.

You still sometimes jump in your seat whenever the door opens too quickly- but he knows that will one day change for the better. He can't blame you, and he doesn't want you to rush your recovery either. You've been through a lot- and you deserve to have your time to heal.

And he'll make sure you heal well.

-----

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #min yoongi imagine #yoongi smut #prey au

[ilovefandoms102]

Likin’ the angle of the dangle?-Part 3*

Pairing: Jake Jensen x Plus Size Reader

Summary: You and The Losers go after Max, the Petunias lose, and wedding bells ring for you and Jake…

Note: So sorry it took so long for part 3 but there is no time like today for some of our delicious nerdy baby😁

Warnings🛑: guns, violence, blood, injuries, smut(unprotected vaginal sex, dom/sub aspects, spanking, slight degrading, overstim), husband jakey😍, pregnancy

Part 2

Don’t forget to hit that reblog button!

Max was on the move, and so were the Losers…

Things didn’t go as planned at the port and it turned out Roque had turned against his team for money. Jake screamed at the guards that manhandled me, earning a nasty bruise to his perfect jaw.

“Jakey!” I gasped, whimpering as the man holding me shoved me further along.

We got to a stopping point, I stood by Jake as we were forced to the ground. I tried my best not to cry, hoping somehow we got out of this alive. I looked over to Jake, the love of my life.

“If we make it, I want a ring.” I blurted, his smile instant as he caught on.

“We’ll go to the fuckin’ courthouse baby, Y/n Jensen sounds so sexy.” he winked, both of us jumping when Pooch was shot.

I protested, trying to crawl to my friend, but only got two inches before I was backhanded. I spat blood, catching something out of the corner of my eye. Cougar saw it too, chuckling under his breath. We all turned to see Aisha, Jake taking in a breath.

“Now that’s a bad ass chick.” he whistled.

Just as the building blew up, we all sprang into action. Kicks, punches, and jabs were thrown until we got all the guards down. Clay met us once he’d escaped from his captors yielding his weapons. Once I got Jake out of his cuffs, he bruised his mouth to mine.

“Hey! Can one of you numbnuts help me up!” Pooch yelled, pulling at my ankle.

“Oops, sorry Poochy.” I giggled, Jake and I helping our friend up.

We took cover behind one of the shipping containers, readying ourselves for the fight that was to come. Jake openly stared at me, his eyes lingering on my tits and ass (typical). I winked at him over my shoulder, his cheeks turning an adorable pink.

“Holy shit,” Jake gasped, his eyes wide.

“What?” I asked worriedly.

“We’re getting married!” Jake exclaimed, and I couldn’t keep my laughter in.

“What the fuck? You mean I have to deal with this shit forever?” Pooch groaned, but I knew deep down he cared so much for us.

“Yes Poochy,” I grinned, slapping Jake’s ass playfully.

“Hey now! That’s my job!” he hissed, swatting my hand away.

The Losers, Aisha, and I all squeezed into a van Cougar had found, my hands working quickly to patch Pooch’s legs until we could get him to a hospital. Once we reached our destination, Jake along with Pooch and I headed to where Max had the Snuke. Jake had deemed Pooch, “legless Pooch”, a name he was not a fan of.

“I think it’s cute,” I butted in to their argument.

“It’s such a cool name, makes you sound like a pirate.” Jake grinned as Pooch rolled his eyes.

“You’re about to be headless Jensen.” he grumbled.

“Hey! You can’t kill the guy I’m marrying and probably will have babies with Poochy!” I protested, pouting as Pooch waved dismissively.

“You’re lucky I love you.” Pooch scoffed, loading his gun before taking shots at the guards.

We all then went into military mode, taking out the targets ahead. We cleared a path so I could take off to the Snuke, Jake running behind me while being my cover. A bullet whizzed past my head, gasping as I ducked at the last second. I kept running, drop kicking a guard in my way.

“God baby, you’re so fucking sexy.” Jake moaned, taking out more guards until we were both standing by the container holding the Snuke.

“Well…this-um-” I stammered as I stared at the contraption.

“A giant Easter egg from hell.” Jake nodded, radioing Clay our situation.

“Hey! I found a ride!” Pooch grinned, pointing at a ridiculous hummer limo.

After we sort of defeated Max, we were able to return to normal life. Aisha helped get our names cleared so Pooch could see his baby born, and Jake and I attended his niece’s soccer game. The Petunias weren’t doing too hot, they only had one point so far the whole game. Jake and I were sporting the cute pink shirts, but let’s be honest, he looked way hotter.

Jake gasped suddenly as another girl from the opposing team knocked his niece to the ground hard, jumping to his feet as he ran out on the field.

“Oh no!” he gasped, adorably running to help his niece.

I couldn’t help but to fall more in love at how much he loved kids, he was going to be an amazing father. We planned on getting married in the next month or so, and I was glad. Not only because I was marrying my best friend, but I had a little secret I was waiting to surprise him with.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when my fiancé started a screaming match with the ref. Jumping off the bleachers, I scurried over to try and break up the altercation.

“Who do you work for?! I want their name and number?!” Jake screamed as the ref continuously bumped her chest to his, screaming back at him to get off the field.

“Honey, honey! Come on, it’s ok!” I tried to soothe my angry Jake, unsuccessfully pulling at his huge bicep.

I signaled help from the team and it was ultimately Cougar and Clay pushing Jake off the field. I held his niece's hand until we got back to the car, having her promise me to not use the very bad language her uncle was using.

Jake was fuming the whole way to drop his niece off, and when we got home. It was so cute how passionate he was, it was one of the many things that made me fall for him.

“Baby are you even listening?” Jake called, angrily pacing our kitchen.

“Yes my love, I completely agree.” I hummed, pulling him to our bedroom in hopes to distract him.

Today was the day I was marrying my best friend, my Jakey. I always dreamed of having a more intimate wedding with just family and the friends I was closest to, fortunately that consisted of The Loser’s and their spouses, Pooch’s baby, Jake's sister, and his niece.

Clay walked me down the aisle, and Aisha was my maid of honor. Pooch stood next to Jake as I walked down, tears streaming down both of our faces. I was so excited to begin this adventure, to be with the man I loved. I couldn’t resist landing a sweet kiss to his lips once I made it to him, holding his hands tight in mine as we repeated the words that would bind us as one.

“Do you take this woman to be your wife?” the preacher asked, looking to Jake.

“I do.” he nodded, squeezing my hand in his.

“And do you take this man to be your husband?” the preacher repeated to me.

“I do.” I smiled, inching closer to Jake.

“By the power invested in me, I pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Jensen.” the preacher announced.

I didn’t wait another second before smashing my lips to Jake’s, my husband. He wrapped me in his arms, his tongue touching mine. I whimpered quietly against his lips, wanting more than ever for him to take me away and fuck me into next week.

“Hey nerds, can you guys finish this up AFTER the reception?” Pooch asked.

I unwillingly pulled away from Jake, pouting as we headed out.

The reception was held at mine and Jake’s shared home, all of us piling in the backyard. It had been a few hours, and I was getting impatient. I’d been trying to get Jake to sneak away for a quickie, but the stubborn man sputtered at the thought of someone catching us.

“Jakey come on, I’m so wet for you.” I whined in his ear, clinging onto his big frame.

“Y/n, honey we can’t!” he whisper yelled, but he couldn’t deny how hard he was.

“Please baby!” I huffed, pouting up at him.

“Be good or you won’t get laid at all tonight.” Jake hissed, the dominance in his tone made me melt.

It’s safe to say I was grumpy the rest of the reception until everyone left, Jake being the clean freak he is was running around to make sure the place was spotless. I smirked to myself as I came up with a plan, remembering I was wearing a special lingerie set for tonight that was bound to get his attention.

Jake choked on air as he caught me stripping in our living room, sprinting back inside. The lace hugged my curves perfectly, accentuating all the right areas. My husband wasted no more time and hoisted me over his shoulders, carrying me to our room.

“Ohhhh, so now I get my husband's attention?” I mocked, giggling when he threw me on our bed.

“You would have had it before if you’d just been good.” he said as he quickly undressed himself.

Once he was down to his boxers, he set aside his glasses before coming back between my legs. He rubbed up and down my thighs, caressing down to my calves as he brought up each leg and kissed them gently. His kisses then traveled down until he was on his knees, nipping along my inner thighs.

“You’re being so mean to your wife Jakey, being a tease.” I huffed, gasping when his hand shot out and smacked my still clothed pussy.

“You’re such a brat, I’m trying to be slow and loving to my wife on our wedding night, but you want to be fucked like a slut.” he growled, sending chills up my spine.

When I didn’t answer, his hand smacked me again. I moaned so ungodly loud it was almost embarrassing, but I knew Jake loved it.

“Yes! I want you to fuck me Jakey, please give it to me!” I sobbed out.

He stood, ripping his boxers off. My mouth salivated at the sight of his perfect cock, but was brought back when Jake ripped the lingerie off of me. I definitely wasn’t expecting him to roughly yank me down the bed, throwing my legs over his shoulders. We’d never done this position before, my nerves creeped up slightly.

They disappeared after he entered me roughly, not giving me a chance to adjust before he began rearranging my insides. He held my legs so tight I knew there’d be bruises, and the way his cock was hitting every spot inside of me I knew I wouldn’t walk tomorrow.

“I’ve fucked you so many times, yet your little pussy just seems tighter every time I take you.” he grunted, laying another loud smack to my ass.

“Don’t stop Jakey, fuck it’s so good!” I babbled, mewling as my orgasm approached.

“Yeah baby? Gonna let me fill you up?” he growled, pistoning his hips even faster.

“Yes! Fuck, please fill me up Jakey, I want it.” I whined, clawing his forearms as I came around him.

Jake had to slow a bit from how hard I was gripping him, spreading my legs out so he could see my cum leaking on his dick. My chest heaved as I panted, squealing when Jake swiped a finger from where we connected up to my clit. He tasted his finger, his eyes rolling back. I whimpered when he pulled out, missing the feeling of him being so deep.

“So tasty,” he hummed, seconds later burying his face into my pussy.

“Jake!” I gasped, yanking his hair hard from being so sensitive.

I pushed at his head, but that only spurred him on. His beard chafed against my skin, but the burn only added to the overload of pleasure. He suckled my clit into his mouth while his fingers entered inside of me, immediately curling into my gspot. My legs shook as I came, flooding my husband's fingers with my cum. He didn’t waste a second to move down and slurp up everything.

“No more Jakey, sensitive.” I panted, my eyes dropping as I met his blue ones.

“Hmmm, maybe if you weren’t such a brat I’d consider giving you a break.” he grinned, flipping me over on my stomach.

“Baby I’m sorry, please.” I whimpered, but couldn’t help the moan that escaped as he licked up my spine.

“My wife, so impatient and needy.” he hummed, smacking his hand on my ass as he spread my legs.

My mouth hung open, no sound leaving as he entered me from behind. My poor clit rubbed against our sheets as he rutted into me, tears streamed down my face from how good I felt. Jake hooked his arms under mine so his palms were on my shoulders, holding on tight to me as he railed his cock into me. I couldn’t hold my scream this time.

“Jake! Ah-oh fuck!” I squealed, gripping the sheets for dear life.

“Yeah baby, tell me who’s fuckin’ you this good.” he chuckled darkly, followed by a loud moan.

“You! You Jakey!” I cried, unable to control the sounds of pleasure leaving my lips.

I couldn’t tell you how many orgasms I had, what felt like hours later, Jake finally came inside of me. He pushed his hips all the way against me, making sure his cum was deep. He gently kissed my shoulder as we both came down, lazily nuzzling his face against my skin.

He slowly pulled out, rolling me on my back. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him towards me. He got my message, leaning the rest of the way to plant a sweet kiss to my lips.

“I didn’t hurt you did I baby?” he asked, worry clouding his eyes.

“Not at all, you were so amazing my love.” I smiled, kissing him once more.

After clean up, I sat Jake on our bed to reveal my other surprise. I pulled out the small ultrasound picture, handing it to him. Jake stared at it confused for a minute before he saw the word ‘baby’.

“Are you serious?” Jake asked, the biggest smile on his adorable face.

“We’re having a baby.” I whispered, my heart swelling with joy.

“Oh my god,” he chuckled, wiping a tear that fell from his eyes.

I hugged him tight, rubbing his back as he cried joyfully. He kissed and rubbed my belly, laying his ear on it.

“Hi little baby, it’s your daddy. I love you so, so much, I can’t wait to meet you.” he spoke to my belly.

“Are you happy?” I asked.

Jake looked up at me, pulling my legs so I straddled his lap.

“I’m so fucking happy, I love you more than ever, Mrs.Jensen.” he professed, leaning his forehead to mine.

“I love you Mr.Jensen.” I beamed, wrapping my arms around his neck.

The rest of the night we spent talking to my belly, to our little baby.

#jake jensen x plus size reader #jake jensen smut #jake jensen fluff #jake jensen x female reader #jake jensen angst #jake jensen the losers #jake jensen fanfiction #jake jensen imagine #jake jensen fic #jake jensen x you #jake jensen #chris evans x plus size reader #chris x plus size reader #chris evans smut #the losers fanfiction

[hansolmates]

a hero’s journey (m)

summary; jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story pairing; jungkook x editor!reader (f) genre/warnings; best friend’s boyfriend au, slice of life, angst with a happy ending because im weak, pining pINING, everyone’s kind of a mess in their own sweet special way, alcohol use, mentions of ze weed, toxic relationships, mean friends, sex—slight dom!kook, food play, fingering, squirting, heavy use of the petname “pretty girl” bc im weak, strength kink, manhandling (oop!) w.c; 22.2k a/n; woof! my first fic for @goldenclosetnetwork​ 23 | jungkook’s birthday project! this goes out to all the closet romantics *ahem me cough* who doesn’t love pining between a cutie koo? a huge thank u for vivi @eerieedits​ for making this bbbBEAUTIFUL fic banner!  

prompt used: “I should’ve known.”

if you like this fic pls consider giving a like n’share🥺💜🥺💜

It’s so easy to ignore the world. 

Maybe it’s a young-adult thing, but it gets difficult fitting into the 9-to-5 and playing to satisfy bosses that don’t entirely understand your work ethic. Maybe it’s out of complacency, or fear. But you prefer to let the world flow around you and when you’re needed, you’ll act. You’ve reached that point in your life where you enjoy the little things, satisfied by an extra hour of overtime tacked onto your paycheck, a new fabric softener, or finding the perfectly squishy yoga mat. 

You’ve finally started feeling comfortable in your shoes, uncaring as to whether you’re single or drowning in college debt, happy to live a relatively stable life. You’re grateful. There’s nothing more than you need than your happiness, and the love of your friends and family. 

Namely, your best friend from college. Jisoo always joked about how you two “won the lottery” as dorm rooms in freshman year were determined by lottery. Pulling numbers 883 and 884, you and Jisoo snagged a corner spot of the dormitory, leaving you two utterly cramped but utterly close as the years went by. Six years later and it’s still the case, the two of you have grown into talented working ladies. While you may not be able to spend time with each other the same way you did in school, you still care for each other. 

So when Jisoo shows up teary with a rumpled dress shirt and her hair waterfalling out of this morning’s bun, you break out the good alcohol and season three of Jane the Virgin for her. 

After the liquid is warm in your cheeks and you’ve fawned enough over Micheal and Rafael’s love triangle, you let Jisoo ramble. 

Jisoo has downed a whole bottle of soju on her own, while you’ve decided to have a tasteful glass of wine. You’d rather be tired wine drunk than wasted on soju. 

“Jungkook and I had a fight,” she warbles, stuffing a handful of popcorn in her mouth, “it was totally stupid.” 

Your eyes flash, picturing Jisoo and Jungkook in quarrel. They’re the epitome of an Instagram-worthy couple, beautiful and deathly charming to a fault. They show nothing but kindness and sweetness to you whenever you third-wheel, not a lick of anger between them when you’re all together.

So a fight is something surprising. Jisoo and Jungkook, J-squared are a power couple. Saying their names next to each other just emits a sort of energy you can only akin to famous small screen couples like Troy and Gabriella or Cory and Topanga. Jisoo’s Instagram is belly full with sweet selfies of them together, the doe-eyed man always looking completely sweet and gentle to the woman in his arms.

You never piqued Jungkook as the type of guy who would pick a “stupid fight.” And you know Jungkook pretty well. 

Maybe a little too well. 

“He surprised me during my lunch break and he caught me talking to Doyoung and he thought I was flirting,” Jisoo is practically eating her sweater, her head falling between her flannel pyjama sleeves. 

“Doyoung, as in your ex Doyoung?” you raise a brow. 

She groans, glaring at you in earnest. “Not you, too! I told him it was ridiculous to get jealous, and then I told him how jealous I get when he’s around girls and I don’t need to tell him that,” she rolls her eyes, twisting her feet petulantly in her fuzzy socks, “but then you know what he says back?” 

You wince, swirling your wine glass, “That you’re crazy?” 

“That I’m crazy, exactly! How did you—” her bloodshot eyes zero in on you, where you’ve tucked yourself in the corner of the couch. You swirl the ruby liquid in your cup, watching the feet web around the cheap crystal, “you think I’m crazy too, don’t you?” 

You swallow your sigh, taking your time to finish your liquid in languid sips. Uneasy, you wish you could just sink through the couch in order to avoid this conversation. Jisoo’s heart is generally in the right direction, but in terms of emotions she has the kind of sensitivity that you prefer to ignore rather than tread. Jungkook is also equally emotional, but in a different way. He wears his heart on his sleeve, preferring to keep things straight as opposed to bottling it up like Jisoo. 

However the theoretic bottle has reached it’s brim and Jisoo’s tipping, fast. 

“I need to tell you something,” Jisoo is swerving, crawling like an infant on wobbly limbs to reach your corner of the couch. You almost stop her, tell her you can continue this conversation in the morning, it’s what you normally do when she drinks into a stupor. But tears are swimming in her glassy caramel eyes and she’s grappling onto your blanket, resting her head in her lap. 

Her glossy russet strands curtain her head, so you don’t see the expression on her face when she says her next words: 

“Jungkook told me he liked you senior year, and I told him you weren’t interested so I’d have a chance.” 

Wow. So that explains everything.

The memories that you’ve tried so hard to brush away, the feelings you’ve tried so hard and continue to try to suppress, are laid out in front of you on a rusted platter. You could laugh, you could fling the rest of the Pinot Grigio down your throat like fresh water on a hot day and call it a night. 

But instead you choke back your tears, and push her off because you’re hurt.  

Deep down you know you would’ve been less upset if she told you the week after Jisoo and Jungkook called it official. If you knew from the beginning, it would’ve been easier on your heart. But it's been over two years since the past, thinking you’ve been needlessly, stupidly, delusional in thinking that you could’ve possibly had a chance with Jungkook.

Because it could’ve been you. And the reason why Jisoo and Jungkook fought today? Now you know it’s because deep down, they know they’re each other’s second choice. 

You can’t even recall a time where Jungkook and Jisoo were together alone before they suddenly started dating, remembering how it used to be you and Jungkook before Jisoo found him one day in your shared apartment, utterly smitten. And now you know you weren’t delusional, because the feelings and the signals you two were exchanging in senior year was real. 

But it doesn’t stop the fact that over two years have passed. Two years of a serious relationship between Jisoo and Jungkook, and two years of you secretly loving him from an arm’s length. 

“You hate me,” Jisoo removes herself from you, voice trembling. The quick, dark part of your mind wants you to snap back of course I hate you. You’ve trusted Jisoo with your life all these years, she was the reason you got through college so gracefully, why you enjoyed the past seven years of your life. 

But the sentiment is stained, and all you can do is deliver a tired smile and stand up. “I don’t hate you,” you say, “I’m just, really overwhelmed. I can’t lie and say that I’m not hurt,” your fingers clutch the fake crystal in your grasp, and for once you’re thankful you’re not strong enough to break it, “but you two love each other now and there’s no point in dwelling in the ‘what-ifs’.” 

Now that you think about it, when was the last time Jisoo treated you like a best friend? You stare at your wine glass, thinking that the only time comfort is provided in this apartment is when Jisoo is upset, never when you’re upset. 

Jisoo bobs her head senselessly, agreeing to every word. It’s pathetic, seeing her on her knees and her eyes glimmering with the hope that you’d forgive her straightaway. She must feel awful. That’s good.  

You sigh, needing to be the bigger person. “You need to call Jungkook and tell him he has nothing to worry about though, after all, you two have history now. As much, if not more than Doyoung.” 

“Right,” she replies, biting her lip. It suddenly feels like you're talking to a wall, carrying a conversation that's long ended.

“As for us,” you have half a mind to slam your glass on the counter, but instead you give it a heavy hand, letting slowly thump to the coffee table, “I don’t think I want to see you two, for a while.” 

“Understandable.” 

“And I don’t want to help you move out anymore,” I just want you gone.  

“Right,” she whispers. The both of you will be completed with your lease in two months, and Jisoo and Jungkook have decided to move into Jungkook’s apartment. As for you, you haven’t decided as to whether you want to go through the whole process of moving out or looking for a new roommate. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so so fucking sorry. I just was insecure as fuck in college and Jungkook was the first person I met in a long time that helped me feel more… like me.”

You want to say that she's right, she’s selfish. Her excuses aren’t palpable anymore. It’s too late. But if you were in Jisoo’s shoes, you’d think this apology is mere crumbs in comparison to your friendship. Why isn't she trying harder? Maybe because she doesn't know any better. After all, you never told her what you felt for him has morphed into love. 

You don’t even have to ask as to whether she’ll tell Jungkook this or not, you now know honesty is not her style. 

Jisoo doesn’t get a goodnight and a drunken kiss on the forehead like she usually does whenever you two have your late night talks. Instead, she seals herself to her own demise as you slam the door to your bedroom, effectively shutting each other out. 

Work is a bitch the following morning. You’re like molasses, rolling out of bed despite the whole world and its mother telling you to go back to sleep. 

Your feet are killing you as you make your walk to work, deciding to wear a pair of red-backed heels so you can stomp your way through your day. 

Your Wusband (Work-Husband) Kim Namjoon matches you step-for-step, eyes glued to his phone as he catches you on the sidewalk. “Woman on a mission,” he comments absentmindedly, eyes glued to his phone as he follows the click of your shoes to your favorite cafe. 

You spare a glance to your right hand-man, eyeing him appreciatively at his dedication to your morning routine. He’s your favorite co-worker, one who keeps you on time to your meetings and keeps you sane when you want to pull your hair out and dig out a coffin in your little cubicle. Namjoon’s long legs always seem to catch up with you during your workweek, whether it’s to get coffee in the morning or to talk shit about the latest gossip in the breakroom. 

The bell of the glass door tinkles in your ears as you enter the café, relatively busy for the morning rush. While you wait in line, Namjoon ticks off your activity list for today. 

“Meeting with Victoria is cancelled this morning,” you groan in relief, your supervisor Victoria always scares the shit out of you even when she’s not doing anything, “and just the usual proofing and whatever we have to do on the third floor today—can I get a large iced Americano with a pump of caramel? Thanks,” Namjoon moves aside so you can throw your order in as well, “and after work could you stop by Vernon’s? He took a sick day today and he has most of the manuscripts for the next issue.” 

“Done and done,” you swipe your card in the dip, tucking your card away in your zippered pouch. “So like, do Americanos taste any good? Like it’s literally watered down espresso how do you pay to drink watered down tar—” 

Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter. Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter swirling stray sugar crystals with his thumb and putting them in his napkin. What an impeccable display of Virgo energy, absentmindedly cleaning things he has no business doing. You scoff to yourself, recalling this morning that Jisoo got off the phone this morning with a stupid smile on her face. From the mirror image that Jungkook is excluding while he’s smiling on his cellphone like a smitten teenager, it seems like they’ve made up. 

Nevertheless the hurt from last night is still fresh in your bones, and you force yourself to look away despite the fact that your morning pick-me-ups are almost done and are sitting tauntingly next to Jungkook’s elbow. Does he really need to learn against the counter like he owns it? Hair slightly damp from the shower, your heart beats a little faster at the fresh image.His biceps are straining against his charcoal lycra long sleeve, which is slightly damp from his morning run. Snap out of it! You are a mature, working woman who does not swoon in the view of bulgy muscles, especially when the man who owns those muscles is taken. Suddenly there’s a call of your name, and two cups and a paper bag are put in front of Jungkook. 

He blinks, and you immediately pale when you see his eyes flit over your name surrounded by your favorite coral pink beverage. You feel struck as his head perks up at the name and he narrowly makes eye-contact—

“The fuck you’re doing,” Namjoon gripes, shoving your guava iced tea and croissant in your chest, “standing there like a moron as if we don’t got shit to do today.” 

“Sorry,” you mumble, pulling at the brown paper bag to tug a piece of croissant between your teeth. The warmth, buttery pastry melts in your tastebuds. Ah, bread. Nothing like a little bit of carb to make you feel better. 

You’re suddenly thankful for Namjoon’s gargantuan torso from effectively blocking you from Jungkook, hauling you out of the coffee shop like a petulant toddler. He doesn’t even give you a chance to catch another secret look at the object of your affections, making sure you’re back in your work game before you enter the building. Even if he doesn’t know it, Kim Namjoon’s always got your back. 

Or in today’s case, breathing down your back. 

Without your third editor and a hard deadline coming up by the end of the week, you and Namjoon are working in tandem throughout your 9-5 to complete drafts for Big Hit Publishings Arts & Media section. Both of you take turns to bring snacks and feed each other, feeling like reading zombies and slaves to your desk as you remind each other to breathe throughout the whole ordeal. 

In complete honesty you don’t totally mind. Namjoon is a great partner-in-crime, and you both love what you do and do a damn good job at it. You call it “Buzzfeed but with Benefits.” 

And at least for today, you could quell the feelings in your chest from last night and this morning. Sure, you’ve always been okay with the pining you’ve had for Jungkook. The feeling comes and goes whenever it pleases, and since yesterday you’ve been okay with just admiring from afar and being their third wheel. 

However, now the feelings are acutely comparable to a third-degree burn with the help of Jisoo playing with fire. 

With a quiet exhale, you concede in your gaming chair (because it’s just so damn comfy to keep in the office.) You’re an adult and not a petty child, and you will not let this piece of information derail you from your calm, stable lifestyle. 

But honestly? Fuck Jisoo. 

“Let’s go, buckaroo,” Namjoon logs off for you, the cinnamon-y smell of his shampoo effectively waking up your senses, “it’s already 5:30. And you said you’d stop by Vern’s to get his drafts.” 

“Right,” you blurt, mindlessly putting away your papers and snack wrappers in your bag. You can’t believe the whole day’s gone already. 

“Maybe you don’t even have to go to his apartment. Just text him or whatever.” 

“Sounds good, thanks Joonie.” 

“And y/n?” Namjoon gives you a look that causes you to force a terse smile, one you give one too many times to higher-ups at work. It isn’t to insult Namjoon by any means, but you guys are partners, the kind that tell way too much but hide just enough to remain close from afar. “Take it easy, will you?” 

“I will,” you concede, stretching your arms, “I’m def overdue for a massage.” 

“You don’t look sick,” you scoff, taking in the casual look your co-editor boasts as he leans casually against the doorway. 

Hansol Vernon Chwe is the epitome of fluffy, decked out in large electric blue sweats and his russet brown hair curling softly above his porcelain skin. Not only is he your co-editor, but also a friend from college. Not to the extent that you were with Jisoo and Jungkook, but you operated in the same publishing club and managed to get partnering internships that made you the co-workers you are today. You see a little bit of that collegiate youth in Vernon right now, as he looks well-rested and fresh faced despite the fact he probably didn’t apply moisturizer or drink enough water today.

“But you kinda do,” he tilts his head, noting the heels that adorn your feet, “you’re wearing your sexy shoes today, that means something’s going on.” 

“Gee, ever the ladies’ man,” you scoff, getting under his arm to invite yourself inside, “all I want is the completed interviews so we can pick out the best parts and draft them. Then I’ll be on my merry way.” 

“Oh c’mon, we’ve been talking nothing but work this whole damn month. What happened to college when we’d talk hours about House Hunters, the safeness of library sex, that little furry thing in Lincoln Hall’s urinal? That was prime conversation.” 

“Vern, I’m just here for the drafts,” you sit at his tiny kitchen table, glaring at his open laptop.  

“You could’ve just emailed me,” he teases, twisting around his chair so he can rest his arms against the back. “But since you’re here, that means you probably wanna spill some tea but you’re too upset to admit it.” 

“If I talk will you stop talking like that?” 

“Yes. Give me the juicy details. Need some juicy juice.” 

“Nevermind, get out of my apartment.” 

“Uh, this is my apartment.” 

“My point still stands,” you make another face at his outfit, “you look like the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.”  

Vernon purses his lips, scooting his chair closer to yours. He’s unfazed by your insult, far used to your defenses being higher up than Fort Knox. He looks up at you with his pretty lashes and deceivingly sweet caramel eyes, leaning his head along the backrest. “C’mon, tell me what’s bothering you,” he says in a gentle tone, coaxing you open. 

He always knew how to do it for you, a little bit of sweet talking and that clear open gaze always reduced you to shreds in university. For him, it always took a good meal and some sci-fi movies to get him to talk. That must be why you’ve stayed friends for so long, you two knew how to connect. 

Finally you crack, kicking off your shoes and hoping the sharp end doesn’t land on his cat. You hear Luna meow in protest but she’s got great reflexes. Unbuttoning the first three buttons of your stuffy blazer, you air out your cleavage, not caring about Vernon’s gaze. He’s seen worse. 

“Remember Jeon Jungkook? Majored in graphic design.”

“Ah, yeah. The guy who like, lived at the gym and the dining hall? Haven’t seen him in a minute,” his eyes seem to glaze over the glory days, reminiscing in the simultaneous safetynet and stressor that made up your early twenties, “didn’t you guys hit it off real well? Like I remember you ditched like—three sci-fi nights to study with him. Who even studies at 1AM?” 

“Yeah, we did,” and you can’t help but frown at as you remember the 7-Eleven runs, the utter warmth you felt when he would wipe a stray rice grain off your cheek, and how happy you felt to laugh so much with him it hurt, “but uh. Jisoo got drunk last night, because they had a fight. And she sort of admitted to me that she sabotaged our relationship and told Jungkook I wasn’t interested in him so they could start dating. Two years later and here we are.” 

A pause. And then, “Want a beer?” 

Vernon doesn’t even wait for a response when he gets up, bare feet slapping against the tile as he prepares some drinks and snacks for you. 

“That’s pretty fucked up,” he practically sing-songs among the cacophony of popcorn pop-pop-popping in the microwave. The aroma of buttery kernels is all but a relief, reminding you of movie matinees, “and like, she knew you liked him! It was totally obvious, even if you didn’t spell it out for her.” 

“Yeah,” you practically gushed to Jisoo those past two months, every waking moment with heart-eyes over the talented graphic designer Jeon Jungkook. 

“I can’t believe Jisoo would keep that a secret from you for so long. Like, can you even trust her anymore?” 

“Don’t know, was she even my bestfriend or was I just a good roommate to her?” you ask. Vernon is holding two beers in one hand and a bag of popcorn by the tips of his fingers in the other, careful to not burn himself. Opening the beer for you, you thank him and take a long swig.

“Well, good thing you’re still not in love with him or whatever. That would really suck. Unless—”

The look on your face says it all. You’re practically snotting into your bottle, your face tucked into your chin as you fight hard to stop the tears you’ve been suppressing for the last two years. “Don’t give me your pity,” you garble, turning away from the sad look Vernon gives you as he wraps his arms around you. 

The tears are soft and gentle, flowing freely onto the cotton of Vernon’s arms as you let it out. 

“‘M’not,” he concedes, rubbing his chin into your neck. He really is a lot like Luna, just like his  cat ready to give you affection. “Let’s just, get some take-out and watch Hamilton or something.” 

He lets you wear his matching sweat suit, lime green, as you order Thai food and rap along to Hamilton’s sick beats. Vernon does a better job keeping the flow, but you’re having a good time being his hype man as he parades around the living room like it’s 1776. 

You go home that night around ten o’clock, feeling noticeably lighter and more relaxed. Be that it may you are still wearing the sweatpants and heels ensemble, you feel comforted. 

The apartment is quiet when you walk in, not a single light turned on. You get a slice of the city lights bleeding in from the organza curtains, which allow you to kick off your heels and hobble to where you think the kitchen counter is. 

Today is Jisoo’s day to cook dinner. You can tell she decided to cook today from the faint smell of Japanese curry and a small unwashed plate in the sink. Whenever it was someone’s turn, they usually left an extra bowl or serving in it for the other roommate when they got home. Unsurprisingly, you find no such thing on the counter or in the fridge. 

You’re not upset, but rather decided. If Jisoo is going to let your friendship fade off with no intention of redeeming herself, then you should give her the same amount of energy back. You realize now the apology she gave last night wasn’t for you, but empty words to make her feel better and mend whatever toxicity she’s created in her own relationships. People like Namjoon and Vernon reminded you that you didn’t need to try and earn other people’s friendships. 

It’s disappointing, but the feeling is all but too familiar. 

If you could describe Jisoo as anything, it would be the color pink. Blushing, beautiful, beguiling pink. The way she flushes when Jungkook does an uncalled for grandiose gesture of romance, or when she wears a hot magenta number when she’s hosting a fashion show. Jisoo is the personification of La vie en rose, unbothered and unabashed.  

But now all you see when you think of Jisoo? Nothing but red. 

With that, you go in your room and untack the polaroid of you and Jisoo at the carnival last month, putting it away in your junk drawer to be forgotten. 

“You’re running away.” 

“Am not.” 

“Are too,” that interjection comes from Vernon’s roommate, Jung Hoseok. He’s been watching you two bicker over work for the past hour while he plays GTA5, failing to get a good hard carry because you and Vernon are too busy discussing whatever finishing touches you need on your final draft. 

“No one asked for your opinion, Jung,” you throw over your shoulder. 

“I’m just saying,” Hoseok flicks his wrist and nabs a tank, “you never wanna go home, you eat all our food, and I found your pyjamas in my laundry basket.” 

“You said your basket was the blue one,” you hiss under your breath. 

“The navy blue one,” Vernon chirps unhelpfully, “not the electric blue one.” 

Hoseok hits “save” on his campaign, disconnecting from his PS4 and stretching his lean limbs. “I mean, we could use a third roommate,” Hoseok jokes, getting up from the couch and grabbing a handful of M&Ms from your bowl, “you do make a bomb mac n’cheese.” 

“Appreciated,” you relent when Hoseok presses a kiss to your cheek and tells Vernon he’ll be back late working, leaving you and Vernon alone in their shared apartment. When Hoseok is gone, you stare at the door, tilting your head, “y’know,” you remark, “Hoseok’s a cool guy, why did I never hang out with him in college?” 

“Because he was stoned the majority of senior year and you just didn’t vibe with that crowd.” 

“Oh, yeah.” 

“But, you’re trying to change the subject,” Vernon carefully untacks your hands from your keyboard, knowing that you two have already been done with this month's issue and you’re now just mindlessly re-reading emails. “You’ve been here since Thursday, and now it’s Saturday. And as much as Hoseok and I like having you around so you can wake me up before we go to work, it’d be nice to throw me a bone and let me in on what you’re thinking right now.” 

You frown, noting Vernon’s large hand covering your laptop closed. He isn’t going to remove his hand anytime soon unless you talk. “Jungkook’s helping Jisoo pack up her half of the apartment this weekend and I don’t want to be there,” you say, short and simple. 

“You miss her?” 

“Yeah,” you admit honestly. You hate this version of yourself, unable to even look at Jisoo nowadays despite the fact you’re under the same roof for the remainder of the month. It’s hard to believe that the roommate from six years ago finally got under your skin, cancelling out all the years of friendship because of one silly relationship, “sad she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.” 

“Did you talk about it?” 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you reply despondently, “if she cared at all she would’ve to apologize again by now.”

Vernon figures, and his neutral expression doesn’t change as he leads you to the couch, brushing away Hoseok’s things so you two can get comfy. You busy yourself with the remote, exiting the PS4 homepage to scroll Netflix. 

“And are you trying to get over him?” 

“I mean, yeah,” you have been, but it’s a little hard when you’ve been contentedly pining. It was easy to keep your feelings bottled up because you originally thought Jisoo and Jungkook were meant to be for each other for the past two years. Now you're still pining but ruefully bitter at Jisoo.

“It’s not fair, y’know. She broke girl code, bros before hoes. Or is it chicks before dicks?” Vernon shakes his head at his lame attempt to get you to smile, which works anyway because Vernon’s silly and his sense of humor always gets you a little loose. “It’s your house too, you shouldn’t feel like you don’t belong there.” 

“Well I was supposed to help her move out this weekend, and I’d prefer it if Jungkook didn’t know what was going on.” 

“What?” your friend furrows his thick brows together, tucking his hands under his knees as he leans into your stubborn expression. “You’re gonna let Jungkook go on with his life not knowing that his relationship is based on a lie. That’s not cool. Even if you’re into him, he’s still your friend.” 

Damn, when did Vernon get so good at giving advice? Truth is Vernon’s always been good at dishing advice, you’ve just been privy to what you wanted to reveal to him. The first year or so being together outside of college was always about work, saving each other’s asses to ensure you two got that promotion and aim higher and higher. Now that goal is out of the way, and what better way to reconnect over some shoddy romance straight out of a Degrassi special? 

“I know,” you hug your knees tight to your chest, “when I’m ready, okay?” 

“Okay,” he agrees, because he’s not a pusher, “do you know the best way to get over someone?” 

“What?” 

“The best way to get over someone, is to get under someone," he emphasizes that point with his hands, sliding one under the other with a wiggle of his thick brows.

You slap him on the shoulder, “Vern, you disgust me.” 

“But it works!” 

“I’m not going on Tinder to find a fuckbuddy.” 

“You don’t have to look on Tinder or Tumble.” 

“Bumble.” 

“Whatever,” and his eyes flicker to his lap, where his pale fingertips turn red as he grips the edge of a throw pillow. "If you really don't wanna find someone, I can help." 

Is Vernon offering himself up? He is offering to fuck your brains out in the hope that you could inevitably fuck out your interest in Jungkook? Your eyes flicker over to Vernon's form on the couch, who's tucked in the couch just as you are. 

It’s true that you find Vernon attractive, and to some extent he definitely finds you attractive as well otherwise he wouldn’t have suggested the idea. It’s just that in college you never viewed him in that kind of light, probably because you were always so caught up in Jungkook. But tonight you can’t seem to ignore the eagerness hidden in Vernon’s carmine gaze, and how shiny and touchable his chocolate locks look under the setting sun. 

“I don’t want our friendship to change,” you reply slowly, furrowing your brows. “I appreciate it, but I don’t know. It sounds like a temporary fix.” 

“Can’t knock it if you don’t try it,” and out of curiosity, you don’t shy away when Vernon leans over to you, squeezing himself between the couch so he can tuck you in his arms. “I want to help you, but only if you want to.” 

Maybe it’s the frustration you feel with Jisoo, Jungkook’s ignorance, or the fact that you haven’t felt physical pleasure in such a long time, but you soften into Vernon’s hold. He’s relaxed, nothing betraying him as he waits patiently for your answer. You’ve always admired how much he kept up his “cool as a cucumber” demeanor. He isn’t the type of guy to let life pass him by, but he’s the kind of person who walks along life, embracing the ups and downs like old friends. He’s the ocean waves that crest along the shore, pushing and pulling along without a care in the world. 

He’s the textbook opposite of Jeon Jungkook, which is why you give Vernon the okay to lean in and press his lips against yours. 

His kisses are soft, and he takes great care in making sure you’re comfortable with this new step in your relationship. It almost feels as if you’re cutting corners, and you can’t help but feel a little guilty that you revel in the way Vernon’s hands trail under your too-large t-shirt. 

The pleasure you’ve ached for is there, bubbling low in the pit of your belly. It’s hard to get you out of your mind however, because this man isn’t the one you love. His kisses hold no power, only brief reprieve. Your heart doesn’t palpitate and your palms don’t sweat, you’re just languid. 

You’re greedy and selfish, but you remind yourself that it’s okay to allow yourself of these freedoms, even for a little bit. As Vernon finds your sweet spot that has you rolling your hips against his, you find that temporary fix isn’t a bad start at all. 

When you trudge back to your apartment that night after much reluctance, your face is still flushed and you think you smell a little too much like Vernon’s cologne. But the fact that still stands is that you're satiated, and you feel a tiny percent closer to moving on. 

The television is glowing with a terrible reality TV show, angry brides upset over cake layers or whatever. Jungkook and Jisoo have fallen asleep on the couch, surrounded by half-empty boxes. Jungkook has his arm lazily over Jisoo, her petite body fitting perfectly between his chest and the crook of his neck. 

You scoff when you spy Jisoo's bedazzled manicure digging into Jungkook's bicep, as if someone's going to take him away if she doesn't hold tight.

With stiff muscles you spare one look at Jungkook, ignoring the pang in your chest as you weave between boxes to turn the TV off. Barely an iota of your feelings have dissipated since your previous tryst with Vernon not an hour ago. Looking at Jungkook brings it all back, unfortunately. You suppose the feelings will pass with time. The soft hum of the television ceases, and you’re bathed in a room that feels dark and empty, despite the apparent life in the room. 

There’s some bleary talk coming from the couch as you walk to your bedroom, and if Jungkook is sleepily mumbling your name in question, you pretend you don’t hear. 

“So, where’s y/n? I thought she was going to help us pack.” 

It’s an innocent enough question, as Jungkook scans the corner of the living room hallway that leads to the bedrooms. You haven’t come out yet. He knows that you love sleeping in on the weekends, but he hopes the smell of fresh food will coax you to the table. His pan is sizzling in protest, telling Jungkook to quit talking and flip the hashbrowns. He's fried up three, in the hopes you’d be up for some crispy potatoes. He knows how much you love potatoes, especially at 2AM when you’re craving fries and a McFlurry combo. 

Instead Jisoo mutters, “You toasted too much bread, you know I don’t eat bread like this,” she’s pulling slice by slice out of the toaster, until there’s a stack of six golden toasts in the middle of the kitchen table. 

A little part of him wishes to quell the precursor to the argument there. It would be so easy for Jungkook to say, “the extras are for me” because he’s trying to gain weight, and that would be that. 

Instead he continues with his unanswered question and replies honestly, “I made extra toast for y/n, babe. She was supposed to help us pack but I haven’t seen her all weekend.” But he’s pretty sure you came home last night, unless that was his imagination. 

Jisoo pulls a carafé of apple juice out of the fridge, pouring the amber liquid into two glass cups. “Ah, she said she had some last minute things to do for work. Y’know, Big Hit always wants a big hit.” 

He chuckles, tilting his head as Jisoo gives him a small smile from the kitchen table. Jisoo is always good at cheesy jokes. “She must love her job, huh.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Her articles are really good, too,” the air smells like butter and Italian seasoning, as he places one hash brown on Jisoo’s plate, and two on his. He knows you edit in the Arts & Media section, and loves how you make it a point to include video games and modern graphics when it’s deemed appropriate. “She did a piece on the evolution of RPG and I thought her commentary was really spot-on.” 

He brings breakfast over to the table, while Jisoo places two slices of toast on his plate, one buttered and one with strawberry preserves. Breakfast is a quiet, but peaceful affair. Jungkook takes note of how Jisoo takes extra long to complete her meal, her fork creating ribbons in her little blob of magenta jam. He allows himself to complete his first hashbrown and a slice of toast before asking the difficult question. 

“Are you and y/n okay?” and he also takes note when Jisoo’s ministrations on her jelly stop, as she looks up at him with her big brown eyes. 

“We’re fine,” she insists, “just normal roommate issues, I promise.” 

“Maybe I should text y/n,” Jungkook says, pulling out his phone. “Lemme help you fix this, wouldn’t want you and her in a bad place when you’re about to move out.” 

“Baby, why are you so concerned about y/n?” Jisoo croons while his thumb hovers over your contact, his screen showing a two-year old selfie you two took during a study session early on in your friendship. He can’t remember the last time you two took a picture together out of spite, one without Jisoo. Jisoo’s hand pulls him away from his phone, rubbing small circles between his palm. 

He wants to ask, why aren’t you? But he sees the terseness in Jisoo’s smile, as her eyes fix between the interlocked fingers. He has a feeling he’s hovering somewhere he isn’t allowed to be in. Maybe it really is roommate stuff and it’s none of his business, but he feels a little insulted being left out because you and Jungkook are just as much best friends as you were in college. 

Or are you? 

This question plagues him throughout the day, and when Jungkook packs enough boxes for the weekend and says he needs to go home, Jisoo for once doesn’t argue. Normally Jisoo would cling to him like a koala, murmur simultaneously adorable and dirty things in his ear and lead him to her bedroom to coop up for hours on end. But Jisoo says she’s tired and needs some alone time, which is also fine. 

He doesn’t feel like going home, and instead heads straight to the gym. A couple pumps wouldn’t hurt, and it would clear his head. It’s nearly five in the evening when his body is thrumming with the afterglow of his post-workout, and he decides to take a little cool down in the mall and treat himself to a smoothie. 

It must be kismet when he sees you coming out of the bookstore, looking a little winded but no less professional in your beige blazer set and rose gold iPad. Whenever he hung around your apartment with Jisoo and you’d come home from work, he’d make it a point to acknowledge your plethora of multicolored skirt-suits. He never needs to be professional in his place of work, and admires how much effort you put in. 

“Hey!” he jogs up to you, and he catches the way your shoulders jump at his voice. “We missed you today.”

Your smile curls into something dry, and you twist your spine like rusty hinges to face him. In turn, his smile dims a little, wondering if he’s doing something wrong. Maybe you’re tired? He catches the line of sweat that glistens your baby hairs, and how your hair is done up but has fallen a few centimeters with some pieces falling out. 

“Jungkook,” you exhale, “lifting boxes wasn’t enough of a workout?” 

“You know me,” he replies stiffly, hiking his backpack higher upon his shoulder. Why does this conversation feel so awkward? “So, finishing up work? Sucks you have to work on a Sunday.” 

“Ah, it wasn’t so bad,” you face relaxes a little as you explain your work, “it was children’s day at the bookstore and they were watching Disney movies. I’m writing a piece on how I believe Ratatouille is Pixar’s magnum opus. Interviewed some kids, I wanted an expert opinion.”  

“Ratatouille is the superior film,” he declares with a firm nod, “after all, anyone can cook.” He revels in the small smile he manages to retrieve from you, immediately understanding the inside joke. If he came out of the gym five minutes earlier, he probably would’ve been able to catch you in the bookstore. What a shame, he would’ve loved to see you play around with the kids. 

At the mention of food, the mall manages to silence itself enough for him to catch the grumbling coming from your stomach. He laughs when your cheeks heat. 

“I was on my way to get some smoothies,” he jabs a thumb in the direction of the food court, “wanna catch up and get a bite?” 

“Oh, I don’t know, I have a lot of work to edit,” disappointment pangs in his chest at your easy rejection, but he ignores it, “I kinda wanna save some money too, still not sure if I’m staying in the apartment after Jisoo moves.” 

He doesn’t know what compels him to take your shoulders and wheel you in the direction of the food court, much to your protest and whines. “C’mon, explain to me why Ratatouille is the magnum opus—I need to defend why The Incredibles is superior. I’ll treat you to dinner.” 

“What? I can pay for my own food—” 

“And I can’t treat my best friend to a nice meal once in a while?” 

That has you stopping in your tracks, and Jungkook nearly barrels his chest into your head if not for the grippy soles of his Adidas Ultraboosts. He can’t see your face, but his hands note how your muscles cord tightly between the cotton of your blazer. 

He doesn’t understand why you’re so tense. Was it because he called you his best friend? Well, you are? At one point he felt that way, early on in college. The position just stuck with you. And when Jisoo told him you weren’t interested, he was perfectly fine with the platonic relationship. It was nice to have someone to talk media and video games to, someone not as chaotic as Jimin and someone not as deterred as Yoongi. 

Although, maybe as of late he hasn’t been so much of a friend. It’s no one’s fault, he’s been caught up with work and Jisoo’s move, he hasn’t said so much as a “hey how are you” when you’re around. He can’t blame you. 

Suddenly his mind blanks, the mall fading away as he focuses on how small you look as your eyes dart between the parking lot and the food court. Jisoo and Jungkook have been so caught up on each other lately, that he fears you’re starting to separate yourself.

“Um, this place is good,” you tug him by the elbow and lead him to a fast food joint. 

When he picks up both your orders and comes over to your saved table, you’re talking animatedly on the phone. You’re laughing, looking at Jungkook as if he’s the one intruding and you’re muttering a hushed “sorry” as you continue the tail end of the conversation. 

“Yes, Joonie. Go with section two, I know my shit. I’m your Work Wife for a reason, Umji in PR could never compare,” you’re giggling like you’re five years younger, and Jungkook feels stuck in a timelapse. 

He watches you go, throwing around names and terms that he’s so lost on but so desperate to understand. He knows nothing about your life other than the one that’s tied with Jisoo, which is a damn shame. Since when did he inevitably downgrade you from “best friend” to “his girlfriend’s roommate?” 

“I’m sorry,” you turn your phone over and push it to the side, giving Jungkook a smile as well, albeit weaker, “let’s dig in!” 

To his relief the dinner goes as good as it should be. You have your tray practically overflowing at the seams, all on Jungkook’s dime. It has his heart swelling with pride, he hasn’t seen you eat in a long time. There’s fries spilling out from the corners, and two sandwiches because you couldn’t decide between a chicken sandwich and a burger. 

Food gets you amicable, and he doesn’t mind when he does most of the talking. You’re engrossed in his talk, lettuce hanging out of your mouth as you’re rapt with attention as he recalls a story that happened at work recently with Mingyu. You ask questions in all the right places and he sucks up all your attention like a happy pill, and it feels nice to be able to lead a conversation for once. 

“Jeez, I’m getting the burger sweats,” you giggle to yourself, and his smile brightens at your positive change in attitude. Food always helps. 

When you remove your thick high-collar blazer, that’s when he sees it. 

“Seeing someone?” he asks, eyes flickering curiously towards the violet bruises that bloom across your neck. 

“What–oh,” you have the audacity to look embarrassed, hands clutching your neck like a shield, “no, just a hookup.” 

A messy hookup, too. Unless you had a thing for showing off marks, which doesn’t seem to be the case. “Didn’t peg you for someone who hooks up,” he says more to himself than you, but you catch him on his impulse jab. 

Your eyes narrow and your defenses go up, “I’m trying to get over someone,” you snip back, busying your hands by crushing up your greasy sandwich wrappers. 

“Am I allowed to state my opinion?” 

“Since you asked so politely, no.” 

He sighs, “I just don’t think that’s the best way to get over someone,” heck, Jungkook doesn’t even know who exactly you’re trying to get over. He just knows that you’re far too smart and independent to let yourself resort to such matters. 

“It isn’t, but it’s really the best option as of now,” you reply curtly. 

And his gaze saddens as he sees you fold your blazer over your arm, indicating that your time is up. Jungkook is aware the comment he made is out of line, and it weakens him knowing that you don’t even want to pick a fight with him. He can’t even find it in himself to apologize properly. 

He doesn’t know if he’s more sad that you’re pining over someone unattainable or upset at himself for not knowing you’ve been harboring feelings for someone. If you really think hooking up is your only option, you must be really hung about whoever you’re into as of late. 

“If it’s worth anything,” Jungkook adds, wanting to leave on a high note, “fuck that guy. He clearly doesn’t deserve you.” 

A small, secret smile plays on your lips, “Yeah, I like to believe that.” 

“I’m anxious,” Namjoon’s mantra makes the whole energy in the room wobbly, paired with the fact the two of you are squished between cardboard boxes as Jungkook aimlessly moves things around like a Tetris screen. 

The only time you feel remotely comfortable basking in your home is when Jisoo is gone. Oh-so conveniently is the Big Hit building undergoing maintenance today, so you and Namjoon have decided to work from home in your apartment. Although you thought by now that Jisoo’s boxes would be long gone and tucked away in Jungkook’s place, instead you’re living in an episode of Ed, Edd and Eddy and the cardboard is practically wall-to-wall. You also thought by now that Jungkook would have no reason to show up unannounced anymore, but apparently that’s not the case. 

“I have, anxiety,” Namjoon adjusts his glasses for the nth time this afternoon, brain not fixed enough to focus on the screen of his chrome MacBook, “anxiety, anxiety. I can’t right now. I need my weighted blanket and a pillow.” 

“Namjoon, I can get both of those for you if we just send in this last spread,” you coo gently, as if placating a baby. You make brief eye contact with Jungkook from the other side of the room, his lips quirking in amusement as he stacks a box of clothes by the kitchen. 

“Do you feel my palms? My palms, they’re like a fucking fountain you need to feel them—” your Wusband approaches you like a zombie, leaning over you and tripping over his criss-crossed legs before he topples over you. 

“Blegh, get off of me you sweat giant!” you cry with a good-natured laugh, although the grip of Namjoon’s palms under your shoulders are damp and slimy, “Joon, I can’t get you your blanket if you’re crushing my boobs.” 

Namjoon finally relents, untacking himself to rest his chin on your glass coffee table. “Fine.” 

“Look over the last column and I’ll bring your blanket, okay?” 

Pushing yourself off the ground, you shuffle your way out of the living room through the maze of boxes and into the hallway. It feels like your apartment is less of an apartment and more of a storage space when you’re trapped in-between two lines of boxes, and Jungkook effectively blocking you from entering your room. He was just in the living room but now he’s come from the linen closet, standing between the entrance of your room. 

“Sorry,” he pops his head out from a smaller box, one filled with designer costume jewelry. 

“It’s fine,” you chirp, barely making eye contact as you shuffle over the boxes. 

Your toe drags over the lid of one of the open boxes in an attempt to move diagonally. You nearly crash your face into the hardwood if not for Jungkook’s arm stretching out to catch you. In seconds he manages to catch all your weight in one hand, pulling you to him with your hip pressed against his. Your breath traps itself in your neck. Your subconscious fears that if you speak now, you’ll babble about how attractive it is that he’s able to catch you as easily as grabbing a light sheet of paper. 

“Careful,” his voice rumbles in his throat as he regards you with a wan smile. 

Your “thanks” is barely uttered as you slip into your room, heaving your weighted blanket and a pillow in your arms to let Namjoon borrow. 

The burgundy quilted fabric is hunched over your shoulder, draped around your body so it’s easier for you to carry on your back. You try to eradicate the memory of Jungkook’s arms, lean and strong as he held you to him moments before.

Ugh, you thought messing around with Vernon would stop your silly pining. It seems that it’ll take more than a couple rounds to satiate your curiosity. For such a kind guy, Jungkook seems like a wolf in sheep’s clothing when it comes to the bedroom. 

You can imagine him being so kind in the beginning, coaxing you to wan and bend to his every wish and command. And then when you keen a little too hard at the attention, you bet a switch would flip and he’d grab you—

The blanket flops around your back, and you’re sorely reminded that you’re thirsting over a taken man, yet again.  

Jungkook makes it extremely difficult for him to be hateable. It’s by nature that he’s just so damn likeable. Heck, he’s pretty much packed seventy percent of the things Jisoo should be packing right now. 

Making sure not to trip again, on your feelings and your blanket, you successfully reach a tired Namjoon. You tuck your koala-shaped pillow under your co-editor’s arms, and drape the heavy blanket over him like a cape. He’s giving you a thumbs up and a toothless smile, the previous meltdown overcome as he focuses on finishing the last of today’s work. He’s slipped on some noise-cancelling earphones, presumably filled with generic coffee-house music or rain playlists. 

Wordlessly you go to your nook to prepare some tea. It’s getting late and a warm cup would distract you from the impending deadline. Despite the fact that you and Namjoon are 99% of the way done, his previous freak-out has you on live-wire and you could use a little caffeine. 

Placing three mugs on the counter you call, “Jungkook, tea?” 

“Yes please,” you stiffen when you feel Jungkook magically appear right behind you, his head peering over your shoulder, “with milk and honey.” 

Deciding to give Jungkook the beehive-shaped mug because it’s very on-brand for him, you begin to steep the leaves in your kettle while he spoons the honey. 

“So,” his words are slow as the drip of honey, the amber goo taking its time to descend into his mug as it falls from the dipper. “Is that the guy you’re trying to get over?” 

Jungkook lifts his brows towards Namjoon, who is softcore jamming to his white noise playlist. It’s cute as to how curious Jungkook is about Namjoon. While you try to keep your work life separate, there really isn’t much backstory to your personal life to warrant that kind of divide. 

“Namjoon,” you state aloud, watching Namjoon sing badly to himself, “why, are you gonna beat him up for me?” 

“I can take him,” you can practically hear Jungkook’s chest pop out. 

With a roll of your eyes, you reach to kill the heat off the tea kettle, “No need. He isn’t the guy I’m trying to get over.” 

“Oh, he’s your fuck buddy then?” 

“Shit!” being caught off guard, you grab at the handle of your kettle without a pot holder, burning your fingertips. In seconds Jungkook’s larger hand encases your own, pulling you over to the sink to soak your fingers in cool running water.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jungkook is chanting like a sinner at church, searching for any sign of pain in your visage, “I shouldn’t have asked while you’re working with a hot stove.” 

You suppress a sigh, relaxing your fingers as Jungkook soothes the burn with his gentle hold, “Shouldn’t have asked in the first place,” you mumble. 

“I know,” he replies, “guess I’m just feeling a little left out. We don’t talk like we used to. I guess I’m getting a little too nosy for my own good, aren’t I?” 

You don’t understand what’s going on with his incessant babbling as of late, but you chalk it up to work stress and Jisoo’s move. Having no answers to his honest reply, you gently untack your red palm from his grip, assuring him that you’re fine. 

Namjoon steps into your kitchenette, being surprisingly careful as he takes your potholder to pour himself a cup of tea. If the tea is oversteeped and bitter he doesn’t say anything, only leans against the counter as he regards you two with slow sips. “You alright?” 

“M’fine,” you reply stubbornly, avoiding Jungkook’s worried stare. 

Namjoon holds out his hand, “Hand.” 

“No—”

“Hand.” 

His deep voice coerces you, and you immediately slap the back of your palm onto Namjoon’s. Your partner brushes his golden hands over the tiny blister that’s forming over your fingertips. “Can’t have my Work Wife outta commission.” 

“Your Work Wife is fine,” you gripe back. 

Your co-worker’s eyes flicker over to Jungkook’s for a brief second, Jungkook regarding him in curiosity as he stares at your connected palms. “I have some aloe in my bag for sunburns,” Namjoon offers helpfully, ignoring the weird glances, “I’ll give it to you in a bit. Also, I’ve overcome my sudden bout of stress and I’m ready to email our progress to Victoria. We’re done for the day.” 

“Awesome, thanks Joonie,” you exhale, relaxing against the sink, “wanna go eat somewhere?” 

“There’s a niche place in Itaewon if you wanna check it out?” Namjoon offers.

Jungkook interjects, “Jisoo ordered pizza if you guys wanna share with us?” 

“Pizza also sounds good—” 

“We don’t wanna interrupt your alone time,” you gracefully cut in, stepping in front of Namjoon despite the fact that he’s easily towering over you. 

Jungkook snorts, “I’ll have enough alone time with her when she moves in, don’t worry. Besides, I ordered three pies because I wanted to try three different flavor combos. I need two additional judges.” 

“Thanks Jungkook but,” you stifle a cry when Namjoon jabs you in the back with his thumb. It’s pressing, digging into the small of your back as if he’s trying to telepathically tell you that you’re being rude, “but… I don’t know if I can eat three slices! Namjoon on the other hand, can probably eat enough to fairly judge.” 

“Great,” Jungkook’s smile is blinding, causing your grin to stiffen as he looks for his phone to shoot Jisoo a quick text that they’re having dinner for four. 

Once Jungkook’s out of earshot, Namjoon tugs you by the sleeve, “The hell was that?” he hisses in your ear, “you look like you’re about to shit and piss your pants at the same time.” 

“I just don’t feel comfortable eating with them,” you cross your arms in defiance. You think back to just a week ago where you and Jisoo reluctantly attempted to eat breakfast together one morning. You provided minimal small talk while Jisoo clinged to her phone, replying to you in non-committal clipped tones. 

“Do I want to know?”

“No.” 

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” you retort, “you got me into this mess, you’re gonna stay with me ‘till the end.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, woman,” Namjoon throws his arms out exasperatedly, oolong tea nearly sloshing onto his hand, “just suck it up or I revoke your bragging rights to that snag you got on our spread next Monday.” 

“Not my fault you couldn’t get Kim Taeyeon on the spread,” you smirk. 

“Well I didn’t so happen to stalk the Sephora she frequents for the past two weeks—” 

“I didn’t stalk her I just so happened to need a new Fenty Gloss Bomb every other day—”

“I’m home, Jungkookie!” 

Your face contorts, your playful energy melting to the hardwood as your previous banter with Namjoon evaporates into thin air. Work bags in one hand and three boxes of pizza balancing in the other, Jisoo kicks off her heels somewhere across the door and places the pizza on the dining table. 

Jungkook immediately appears by her side, and you look away and Jisoo plants a heavy kiss on his lips. She cracks open one eye as she notices you and Namjoon hanging by the kitchenette, “Oh,” she mumbles at her audience, “you’re here?” 

Yes, you bimbo. I’m here in my own apartment. 

“I guess you didn’t read my text that they’ll be joining us for dinner,” Jungkook cuts in good-naturedly, “we have way too much pizza anyway. Have a seat, guys.” 

Jungkook navigates the kitchen as easily as your own, and you slump in your chair while Namjoon exchanges pleasantries with Jisoo. She looks impeccable, hair in a tight chignon and a tight navy dress as she converses with your co-editor. 

“I’m starving,” Jungkook announces, making sure to place a slice on Jisoo’s plate. He shuffles through the other boxes, making brief eye contact with you when he decides to put a slice on yours as well, “you like these toppings, right?” 

You regard the greasy, hearty piece of cheese and bread with a curt nod. You feel Jisoo’s eyes laser on your skin, “Yeah, thanks Kook.” 

Namjoon, Jisoo and Jungkook mostly stir up the conversation, you opting to eat as slow as possible to avoid any conversation. It’s easy to blend back and let them take over, as Jisoo loves to talk about her fashion firm and Namjoon is a great listener. 

Jungkook and Namjoon make it a point to direct the conversation to you from time to time, and you let the ball leave your court as soon as it lands. You prefer to keep your responses short and simple, especially when Jisoo is so eager to talk about the new silk drapes she’s installing for Jungkook’s windows.

Your phone buzzes in your lap, and you discreetly look under the table to read the incoming text message. 

vernie bernie: would u like to do the devil’s dance tonight

vernie bernie: or a tickle to my pickle? 

vernie bernie: beatin ya bean? 

You: ohmyGOD 

vernie bernie: or y’know, u could just come ovr and chill. Hobi made some bomb tres leches

You: call. Ill come after dinner

“Are you okay, y/n?” your head bounces up to meet Jungkook’s gaze, “you’ve barely eaten and you haven’t talked much.” 

“Oh you know, she’s just stressed about the upcoming spread,” Namjoon steps in for you, and you send him a discrete, but grateful smile. He’s always impeccable at reading the room, “she’s just nervous about her interview with Kim Taeyeon, but I think you did her interview justice.” 

“No way, the singer Kim Taeyeon?” Jungkook gushes, regarding you with stars in his eyes, “your interviews are always so great, y/n. You ask really good questions. Like that one spread about  Lee Yonghwa’s art gallery? Really cool.” 

You notice the way Jisoo presses her lips together, a thin line as if she’s trying to seal away words that she’ll regret saying. She’s jealous, and you can’t help the blush of pride that fills your veins as you raise a secret brow at her. 

“Right, you got nothing to worry about,” Namjoon squeezes your shoulder encouragingly, as if you’d get his double-meaning. 

“Thanks,” you reply, pushing your plate away and standing up, “I’m actually gonna go head to Vernon’s for a bit, though. He wants to double check his work before we email Victoria.” 

It’s a bald-faced lie, Namjoon sent the files to Victoria right before dinner, but he isn’t going to argue. 

“Okay,” Namjoon thanks Jungkook and Jisoo for the meal, stacking his plate atop yours, “I’ll walk out with you.” 

“It’s only been twenty minutes, though,” you see the slight panic in Jungkook’s gaze as he watches you quickly clean up for you and Namjoon. You can’t quite pin why he’s so concerned, after all he has been acting strange as of late. 

“Yeah, I’m full,” you reply curtly, licking your lips and avoiding his gaze. You already know what he wants to say, that he’s been in your apartment all day and all he’s seen you eat is stale chips and tea, “but we can do this again.” But hopefully not. 

“If you’re coming home late again,” it’s the first time Jisoo has spoken to you directly. You tilt your head to her slowly, watching the plastic smile carefully carved onto her expression. You see the contrived care and concern between her brows, “please try to be quieter next time, the last time you came home late you woke Jungkookie up.” 

Snapping your gaze to Jungkook you plaster on a thick smile, “Sorry Jungkook—” 

“What? No, it’s fine!” he furrows his brows in confusion, finally able to detect the strange tension between the two housemates, “I barely heard you—” 

“Maybe I’ll just stay the night at Vernon’s,” your eyes trail over to the pajama set you immediately switched into when you got home today, “wouldn’t want to disturb you two.” 

“Good,” Jisoo’s tone is saccharine and clipped as she tacks on a, “have fun.” 

It’s laudable, how much Jisoo wants to make a fool out of you but you won’t have it. You revel in the perplexed expression as Jungkook’s gaze darts back and forth between the two of you, wanting to butt in but unsure of how to approach it. Not giving him the time to, you bid the couple a goodnight and make a fast getaway. Heck, you don’t even take your work stuff with you. 

Once you’re out the door, Namjoon wordlessly gives you a hug. You sigh gratefully into his embrace. 

The next time Jungkook sees you, he reads the room before anything. You and Jisoo’s apartment is scarily empty, almost clinical. He’s tried texting you a few times after his failed-not-failed attempt at catching up at the mall and his awkward conversation concerning Namjoon, but you always reply back with vague replies and an unpromised promise of meeting up sometime soon. 

It dulls him to think that you’ve given up on him as a friend. But can you blame him? He needs to keep an appropriate distance for Jisoo, after all, she doesn’t like it when he gets too close to other women unless it’s strictly professional. Usually Jisoo’s jealousy inevitably works itself out and Jungkook doesn’t pose any problems because he has very few girl friends, but for some reason your friendship with him specifically gets Jisoo stiff in the face. Is it because you and Jisoo are so close? Possibly. 

But it doesn’t mean you can’t join the same Valorant server with him at 2AM and accidentally bomb each other, or argue over the magnum opus of each film company. Is that not enough? 

Jisoo’s working overtime, and Jungkook suggested last night that he move the boxes to the front of the door for easy pick-up when the moving truck arrives. Jisoo promises to buy Thai food in return, and with a kiss emoji she leaves him to audit fabric budgets. 

As he glides down to Jisoo’s room he notes that the pictures along the wall have disappeared, and there’s double the amount of boxes in the hallway. It seems that you’re moving out too. To where, he doesn’t know but he hopes it isn’t too far. 

He chides Jisoo remotely when he sees that her room is completely intact, and he makes moves to pack up her things. 

That’s when he finds his letter. Not a love letter to Jisoo, but a love letter to you. Deep in the recesses of Jisoo’s junk drawer, is a faded lavender envelope with a pressed cream colored baby’s breath taped up in plastic. The glue is yellow and old, clearly served its purpose due to the fact that the letter is already opened and the contents rumpled. 

Hey Pretty Girl–

He immediately stuffs the letter back in its holder, stricken at his messy handwriting from two years ago. It feels like he found a time capsule, another version of Jungkook confessing to you. He used to call you Pretty Girl, not enough for you to catch on to his feelings, but enough for you to understand that he did find you attractive. It was early on in your friendship. 

When you first asked him to be study partners for some silly class that had nothing to do with each other’s majors, he gaped like a guppy and pointed to himself. That day he went to class in last night’s clothes and a nest of fluffy strands. “Me?” he felt like absolute trash, and you were probably desperate due to the fact you two were the only seniors in this class, “but you’re a pretty girl… and I’m pretty dumb when it comes to this subject.” 

But instead you scoffed and pulled him from his slumped figure, dragging him to the library, with a wink and a “you’re pretty, too.” Those words have burned in his brain since then, as he wasn’t used to getting such off-handed compliments, especially from intelligent girls that wanted more than one night. 

For whatever reason you continued seeing his dumb self, even after the semester ended and together registered for one more class for spring. 

Whenever you’d go out for ice cream you wouldn’t hesitate to stuff your face and add for extra Oreos and fries, you’d assure Jungkook you’re not normally this much of a slob. 

Jungkook would just smile and offer you a napkin and say, “You’re still a pretty girl.” 

He fell for you gracefully. There was no regret, no walk of shame, no cliché late night party where you or him could’ve instigated it into the physical. It was all by feel. 

However the two of you took your time with your relationship, languidly enjoying the hushed conversations in the library at 2AM, the late night McFlurry runs, the integration of each other’s friends like it was natural. Ergo the lavender love letter. It was a gentle declaration, one he felt pretty confident in. 

So color him stupid when you passed him in class with a happy wave, Jungkook dumbfounded at how well you handled his confession. You weren’t oblivious, you just never read it. 

But now he knows the declaration was for whatever reason, lost in transit. “I should’ve known,” he whispers in the air, the letter crumpling in his grip. Composing himself, he pinches his brows.  

There’s an electronic buzz and a sharp slam of the front door. Judging by the time, you’re home. 

You flop onto your mattress, folding an arm over your head to stop the sun from seeping to your eyes. Vernon’s exhausted you, and you barely got away before he could have any say in it. You need a little space, and some time to think. 

Just as you close the door to your bedroom, it swings open. 

You gape as Jungkook thrusts himself into your bedroom like a deer with horns, looking pale. You follow his gaze, darkened eyes that linger a little too long on your neck again, and you narrow your eyes at him to avert. He looks a little red in the cheeks despite his pallidness, looking like he just got out of bed with messy wavy locks and his signature sweats. Is Jungkook packing for Jisoo again? 

Acutely aware that you smell like sweat and sex, you clutch the blankets closer to your body. “Uh, rude.” 

He looks uncharastically frantic, waving a letter in his hand, “Did you ever read this?” 

“Read what?” you ask, hands reaching out for the envelope. 

“My confession letter,” he blurts, having no shame now that all the gears are running through his head. “I wrote you a letter asking you out, because you said you wanted to collect notes like in Letters to Juliet. But I just found it in Jisoo’s drawer, why would it be there?” 

And all the pent up frustration that never seemed to escape under Vernon’s sheets, the feelings that never seem to subside, all bubble back to the surface. Now that Jungkook knows, there’s no hiding. 

You’re in shock, hands reaching for the letter despite the burn that seeps through your fingertips. Jungkook’s shoulders slump when you do indeed look like it’s your first time seeing this, as if a missing puzzle piece in your timeline has finally been revealed.

“I, I didn’t think you’d write me a letter,” you take the lavender envelope, clutching the letter by your chest like it’s something precious, “that’s so sweet,” you say to yourself.  

It dawns on him, “Wait, you knew about this? I knew something weird was going on.” 

“Only recently,” you frown. 

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” he nearly shouts, causing you to flinch, “no wonder why you were being so weird all this time. How could you let me live the rest of my life knowing this? That my relationship is built on a lie? ” 

“I don’t know,” you suddenly feel very small in your mattress as Jungkook rounds up on you, pulling your desk chair closer to your bed, “because you love Jisoo, of course.” 

“Well obviously that’s not possible,” and while yes a two-year realtionship ending like this is going to hit him hard tonight, he’s focused on you and the fact that you failed to tell him, “somehow I’d find out. Why wait for me to find out on my own?” 

“Because I wanted to protect you!” 

“Protect me,” he scoffs, crossing his arms and sneering at you. It causes you to tense up, feeling the telltale signs of tears bubbling to the surface, “you don’t even want to be friends anymore, y/n. I’ve tried to catch up to you so many times, but you keep leaving me hanging. I know I’ve been a pretty bad friend and I get it if you just feel awkward that I liked you, then that’s a shitty reason.” 

“Have you ever considered that it’s too late to tell you?” you shoot back, sitting up straight, “yes, I admit I should’ve told you earlier and I’m sorry, but it was a lot for me to process to y’know? Jisoo and I haven’t talked properly in weeks!” 

“Oh, so you’ve stopped trying to be friends with Jisoo too, huh? Just like you’re trying to stop being friends with me.” 

“No,” you pinch your brows, “she stopped being friends with me! She doesn’t care about me because she has you,” conflict burns in Jungkook’s gaze, and you only serve to fuel the fire, “she’s tried so hard to not involve me in your relationship.” 

“Just tell me why you’ve really kept this secret instead of saying you want to protect me like a baby—” 

“It’s because I’m in love with you, idiot!” 

You blink and back up against the wall of your bedroom, as if you can’t believe that the words came out of your mouth. 

It’s quiet again. The sour look evaporates from Jungkook’s face as he watches you suppress your sobs on your mattress. The room seems devoid, sucked out of its color as you’ve cleaned up most of your things, the only thing left being some plain grey sheets and a pillow. 

Jungkook’s mind is absolutely reeling, playing back memories from a different point of view. 

“When Jisoo told me she sabotaged our relationship so she could date you, I was so upset and didn’t know what to think,” you manage to place the lavender note on your wooden desk, making sure no tears could mar it. “And I thought I could move on and eventually stay friends with the both of you, but the next day Jisoo put all her attention on you and completely ignored me or any attempt to salvage our friendship. She only told me to forgive herself,” you’re hugging yourself, wrapping the blankets around you like a weak embrace, “so I thought if I cut myself out of the picture and forced myself to move on like I should’ve, everything would’ve been okay.” 

“So, you would’ve rather kept all this pain to yourself?” 

“Yeah,” you give him a teary smile, “because I wanted you to be happy.” 

And with an equally sad smile he murmurs, “But I’m not happy.” 

 Your face falls, and you really look at Jungkook. He’s exhausted as well, slumped in his chair. Has he been trying to grapple along the threads of his relationships, while you’ve been trying to loosen them? 

“What a waste of two years,” he slumps in your chair, letting the pieces click into place, “a relationship built on fake love. I was really trying, y’know. I thought I was going crazy.” 

The three of you have unknowingly been playing a futile game of Cat’s Cradle, a game that no one wins. 

Jungkook looks wistfully out the window, noting the pleasant day that fails to present itself in your tiny room. It feels simultaneously satisfying and bitter when it falls into place, your thoughts finally fitting together for the first time in months. “We could’ve loved each other. For real,” he says, and you silently agree. 

You’re still crying, shaking like a leaf in autumn. Jungkook’s arms hover awkwardly over yours, his warmth palpable despite the fact that he hasn’t touched you yet. With a timid smile you allow consent, and you melt like putty in his arms. 

“Kookie, ‘m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you murmur into his shoulder, not caring if it hurts when you press your chin into his skin. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.” 

It’s been so long to have him close like this, the friend you’ve always wanted but never needed. Since college you’ve always imagined a life without him doing just fine, but that doesn’t mean you want to live without him, roommate’s boyfriend or not. 

“I’m sorry too,” he sighs back, “this sucks right now, but we’ll be alright.” 

The two of you sit in your room until it turns dark and the sky muddles into shades of twilight and egg yolk orange. There’s lulls in the conversation, the two of you filling in the gaps and making sense of the mumbo-jumbo that’s been going on in your consciousness up until this point. Your insantities turn sane, and by the time Jisoo’s making her way back inside with the smell of pad thai, Jungkook is ready. With a squeeze to each other and a press of your lips because you don’t know what to say, you tuck yourself in and pretend to fall asleep. 

“Messy, messy, messy,” Vernon sing-songs, knocking his heels against the wall. 

The both of you are sitting upside-down, butts attached to the wall connecting to his mattress and your feet hanging in the air. Your mint floral organza socks pad against his Pink Floyd poster, while his yellow tube socks are heeling against some old Polaroids from college. There’s no prospect of sex today, not when shit just hit the fan. 

Today you and Vernon are just two old friends and very close co-workers. 

“Tell me about it,” you bemoan, frowning at the beige wall, “this whole week’s just been a whole mess. It’s like, warm tuna salad.”

“Gross,” Vernon grimaces at the apt comparison, “so what happens now?” 

You sit up on your elbows, looking down at Vernon’s peaceful expression, “What do you mean?” 

“Like, are you gonna get together with him?”

You snort, flopping back down on his bed. The blankets fluff around you and you inhale the pine scented sheets. “After all that? No.” 

“But you still love him?” 

It must sound dumb to still love him after all this time. You wouldn’t be surprised if Vernon thought you’re silly to still hold a place in your heart for someone who has fifteen million things on their plate now. After all the physicality and the space Vernon gave you in his home, your feelings haven’t wavered. 

Your companion doesn’t bother waiting for your answer, hearing your answer somewhere in the air as he gets up and throws on his denim jacket. Rolling over your stomach you ask, “Where are you going?” 

“Some friends down in printing want to meet up for drinks,” Vernon messes up his hair, making the waves part in that little coiff that makes his jawline look sharp. “I heard Yerin really wanted me to come, so.” 

You can’t help the little middle school coo that comes from your lips, causing Vernon to giggle and throw a pillow at you. “Yerin’s cute!” you declare, remembering the petite girl in overalls who’s all about pops of yellow and violet, “you're into her?” 

“Nah,” Vernon holds up two hats in his hands, gesturing for you to pick one. “Just figured it was a push in the right direction.” 

Crawling out of his bed you stumble in your oversized t-shirt, tucking a finger under your chin as you decide between the emerald bucket hat and the red Ralph Lauren baseball cap. You pull out both hats from his hands and set it down on his vanity, opting to smooth out the flyaways and ringing your fingers through his soft curls. “And what direction would my free-flowing friend be going today?” you ask aloud, “you look better with your hair out,” you declare firmly, “makes you look like a fluffy CEO.” 

He laughs at your silly comparison, and he gently moves your hand away from his hair when you linger a little too close to him. His gaze is solemn as he regards you with a gentle smile, “Keep your distance, I’m tryna get over someone,” he says simply, and your arm falls limp at your sides. 

Your heart thuds in a different direction, your mouth parting but no words coming to the surface. When was the last time you asked about Vernon’s needs, wondered if he was doing alright, making sure you two were on the same page—

“You’re spiraling,” he reads you like a playbook, smoothing down your hair to press a kiss to the crown. Suddenly you feel guilty for not having sparks in your belly, shaming your conscience for not even considering his sacrifices in your self-absorption these past few weeks. “Like I said, I wanted to help you. Stop looking like a kicked puppy, it’s okay to be selfish.” 

With transparent tears the two of you pack up and head to your next destination. Hands ghosting between each other you make your way to the exit of Vernon’s apartment, him to meet up with his friends while you have to unpack your new apartment. With a hug you tell each other you’ll see them on Monday, and as easy as that you go your separate ways.

Hey Pretty Girl—

I kinda wanted to tell you this in person but I know how much you liked Mamma Mia and all those other movies that have grand gestures in writing so I thought hey, might as well shoot my shot on paper. 

Not gonna tell you all the details, because you deserve to hear it in-person. But mayhaps this letter has something to do with how much I like studying with you, watching movies with you, doing absolutely nothing with you and all of that in-between. 

There’s a gift card to our spot attached. Meet me at McDonalds @12 tonight, so I know it’s real 😎

Hopefully yours, Jungkook

P.S. if you haven’t noticed already, I sprayed a little cologne and stole Taehyung’s fancy paper from Muji. That’s how serious I am about you. 

“Joon, we live in a bonsai garden. We’re like giants in a forest.” 

“Can you—can you stop spitting at them? Let them breathe, dammit.” 

“Not my fault they’re so tiny! I literally have to zoom 200% just to get a good look at ‘em.” 

The two of you are huddled in what used to be Namjoon’s balcony, now a sunroom for his succulents and bonsais. Your heart feels pink and swollen with affection as you regard Namjoon with interest, absorbing every bit of information you can as he teaches you how to care for his plants. After all, you’re co-parenting now. 

Having your Wusband co-sign as your roommate for the next year is probably the best decision you have made this year. Everyday is like a breath of fresh air. With Seokjin gone for the year to tour his restaurant franchises, his room is yours for the taking. The two of you are easy going roommates, filling the apartment with color and vigour whether it be in the form of baking sweets or watching Netflix documentaries. 

The only drama you ever have is when you two are having a meltdown over the same work-related issue, as if you two somehow share the same brain cell. It’s significantly less stressful, no need for unnecessary anger when  you have someone as mediating as Namjoon.

After today’s plant lesson, you two go back to the living room to finish up your work for the evening. Another perk of living together is that you can go home at normal work times and continue where you left off with the comfort of your couch and eating a whole pizza pie with no shame. 

Namjoon’s phone pings with a new email from corporate. “We got the new concept for next month’s spread,” he gestures to you with a grandiose wave of his arm, “drumroll please.” 

He pulls up the newsletter from corporate with a flick of his thumb. Your company put out every month’s concept out in an Evite, like every month was a themed party. A stressful, month long work party. In seconds, the page loaded and you’re met with next month’s title bathed in electronic glitter. 

The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth

The two of you say silent, absorbing the concept like a cookie to milk. It’s a personal spread this month, a real treat for the team to show off their normal non-professional life. A spread that reveals the masters behind the ink and text. Last year’s personal spread was about the staff’s vacation destinations, but this year’s is much more intimate. You can imagine all the ideas that will be thrown around on Monday’s meeting: pinning down shared ideas like Throwback Thursdays, late night munchie runs, drunk stories, and all the crazy college nostalgia that you’ve been trying to avoid as of late. 

But now it’s presented to you in a gold chalice, and while you’re sick of the past you think it’s about time to face it. You’re excited to tackle the dark monster you’ve suppressed since Jungkook and Jisoo’s breakup. 

“Did I ever tell you I was president of my university’s Mock Trial?” 

“No, I always thought you’d be president of the Comparative Literature Club or whatever. But Mock Trial is equally as nerdy.” 

“I’ll have you know Mock Trial got me tons of action,” he winked, “made me very convincing.” 

“Gross,” you sneer, “so that’s what your spread will be about? How the co-editor of the Arts & Entertainment section managed to bag with his skills from Mock Trial?” 

“Nah, I went on a penniless journey with Jin during spring break. Six days around Malta.” 

“That does sound so you,” you sigh, fingers slipping between the cracked screen as you mull over the overly happy Evite, “sounds like a cool story.” 

“I know that look,” Namjoon quips, snatching his phone under his nose, “don’t overthink your spread just yet, it’s still the weekend. Now to more important things, what do you want from Taco Bell?”

And because you can’t refuse the combined efforts of nachos and Namjoon’s dimples, you relent for the night and tack the unmade idea to the next workday. 

Unfortunately the next workday is just as disheartening. Today’s work meeting is the antithesis of icing on the cake. While your college life isn’t anything remarkable, you didn’t think it was a painfully dull time. With every passing moment and every excited co-worker throwing memories back and forth like ping pong balls, the more you felt inferior by competing with their amazing memories. 

“Who can even afford Aruba at twenty-one,” you mutter under your breath, stalking back to your cubicle. 

Filling up a whole spread is daunting to you, the thought of Victoria popping her head in your cubicle to ask what you’ve got for the day is practically eating you from the inside out. Maybe your college life was in actuality, super boring? You have no crazy drug trips to tell, any vacations that gave you a life-changing perspective, or an epic love story. 

“What’cha got there, partner?” 

The third musketeer of your editing team’s caramel eyes peer into your cubicle, causing you to jump in your chair. Vernon wheels around, chair and all to push you into your already cramped space. His gold button up gleams in the sunlight, effectively blinding you. 

“If by something you mean nothing, then yeah I got nothing,” you frown, spinning around your chair. “What are you writing about?” 

A fond smile melts onto your friend’s face, and you can’t help returning a smile that mirrors his own. You two have fallen back into a good place, as far as you know. He’s still easy, simple, sweet Vernon. When you dropped some boxes off in coloring, you heard that Vernon and Yerin have recently started seeing each other. 

“Thought of the idea as soon as the Evite came out. It’s more of a photo spread, but I’m gonna write about my study abroad in NYU,” Vernon ticks a pencil on his forehead, “a self-identity piece talking about how I felt like, not-white around my family n’stuff. And then felt not-Asian at the same time, s’complicated but I think I can make it work.” 

“Deep,” you pat his shoulder caringly, knowing that Big Hit is a good outlet for these kinds of subjects, “alright City Slicker, since you’re so full of ideas then tell me what to write about.” 

Vernon sits up straight, regarding you with narrowed eyes, “Aren’t you gonna write about your little love triangle with Jisoo and Jungkook?” and it seems like he’s already storyboarded the idea in his head, gesturing to the air as if he’s writing down a timeline, “I can see the headline now: How to Steal a Heart,” he’s grinning, nodding fervently as you cross your arms in distaste. 

“Vern, are you suggesting that I exploit Jisoo and Jungkook’s personal lives?” while the journalism business didn’t pride itself on sincerity, it did feel wrong to drag in your personal life to that extent. 

“Babe, you don’t understand. You have the perfect slice of life story. Everyone’s writing about expensive vacations and that one time they got cross-faded and ended up in Busan,” he squeezes your hand, “but your story, it’s relatable. It’s romantic. It’s angsty. It has closure. No one’s gonna be able to relate to an impulse spending on daddy’s money to Aruba. But first loves? Unrequited romance and all that ish? Everyone can speak to that. And you’re a beautiful writer, they’ll eat up that story like honey.” 

“I don’t know, it still doesn’t feel right.” 

“Change up the names, twist the story,” he offers easily, knowing you’d put up a fight, “besides, it’s not like you’re planning on talking to Jisoo or Jungkook ever again,” you open your mouth to retort, but Vernon’s phone beeps to the Star Wars theme song and he’s flying out of his chair. “Shoot, gotta go help Joon upstairs. Just think about it, okay? Good luck!” and he’s kicking his chair out with a brown loafer, leaving you with breathing room in your cubicle. 

Five seconds later Vernon is jogging back, pointing a finger at you, “And if you do choose to write it, you have to add that Jisoo copped your McDonalds gift card. Like, who does that shit? Couldn’t she have just given it to you and say it was from her and not Jungkook? Seriously fucked up.” 

For the next ten or so minutes you mull. Out of all the memorable college events you’ve participated in, the largest one by far is your (now defunct and debatable) friendship with Jisoo, and your (un)requited love for Jungkook. Reluctantly, you must admit Vernon has a sharp idea, busting in like a hero and offering you the most writable piece on a silver platter. 

It doesn’t feel morally right just to start writing, because ultimately you can’t feel comfortable until you get the consent of Jungkook. While you don’t want to touch Jisoo with a ten-meter pole, you do want to start talking to Jungkook again now that the waters have calmed.

Your life has moved gracefully up until this point, and you’d like to start being friends with him again. Decision made, you pull out your phone and make an important call.

“Hey Yoongi,” you say nervously. Min Yoongi is Kim Namjoon’s equivalent, Jungkook’s Wusband and former upperclassmen in college. 

Said man hums noncommittally on the other line, “Whaddya want, it’s been awhile.” 

You stifle a giggle at his apathetic attitude, knowing he’s someone who wastes no time in getting straight to the point. “I just wanna make sure Jungkook’s address is still the same? I know it’s been a couple months, but I need to send him something and I wanna make sure it gets to him ASAP because—”

“Because last time something was sent, your crazy roommate intervened and Jungkook ended up in a two-year half-toxic relationship? Yeah, let’s make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

“Yoongi,” you say slowly, “where are you?” 

“Working in the studio,” he tuts, “Jungkook says hi, by the way.” 

Typical, cat’s out of the bag. With a roll of our eyes you reply, “Thanks for outing me, Yoongi. Talk to you later.” 

“And y/n? Jungkook says he’s waiting.” 

With a stupid smile slapped onto your face, you hang up the phone and pull out your stationary kit from under your desk. You pluck out a vermillion red envelope, a color so bold and begging to be seen, you know it can’t possibly get lost in transit. Feeling a little bit like a high schooler as you pull out a glitter jelly pen, you get to writing. 

Hey Pretty Boy...

Jungkook and Jisoo are no longer together, evidently. 

Their social media runs in different directions, with Jisoo sporting absolute elegance in her work at her family-owned boutique. Her posts are full of shiny outfits and soulless gazes, betraying any pinch of emotion she may have felt over these past few months. Her profile is wiped of any personal posts, all traces of you and Jungkook evaporated from her page. You must admit that she looks good, like a real fashion mogul, but only at the surface level. 

Conversely, Jungkook is thriving. It’s evident. Normally he isn’t the type of guy to post so frequently, his habits being often sporadic and limited to sweaty gym stories. But whenever you scroll, it’s pictures of him smiling. Big bunny teeth broken into a genuine, full-bellied laugh. Cute selfies of him and his co-workers. You notice two familiar co-workers in those posts, Irene and Seulgi, two beautiful women Jisoo always felt intimidated by whenever she ranted to you. You conclude positively that Jungkook doesn’t feel tethered and can hang out with all the friends he wants, female and male alike. Jungkook looks free, and you’re happy for him. 

It’s another Instagram-worthy moment tonight at McDonalds, where you and Jungkook proposed to meet each other at 12AM. 

This time, the letter makes it to its desired destination. You make sure of that because this time you hand-deliver it, slipping under his apartment door knowing he lives alone and no one would be able to access it except him. 

You’re parked in an obscure corner, but you can see that Jungkook is currently having a great time with his co-workers for an after work meal. Yoongi is unbothered on his phone, while Jimin and Seulgi are taking turns throwing fries into each other’s mouth. Jungkook is squished between them, scrunching his nose cutely as he tries not to get in the fray of their fry-war. 

Your phone pings, and you laugh at what pops up on the screen.

Yoongi: come inside, u loser. 

You: can’t ur friend group makes me nervous stop being so dang cute

You: dw i’ll wait, it’s only 11:50

Instead of replying, Yoongi puts his phone down and resumes eating. In turn you pick a playlist, deciding that “summer time high mix✨✨✨” is a theme you need to subscribe to for the rest of the weekend. 

Busying yourself by sending some texts to Namjoon and checking some emails, you relax in your seat as you let your brain turn to sludge for the weekend. You’re tired, eyes glazing over as you watch Yoongi elbow Jungkook harshly, forcing him to look out the foggy window. 

Jungkook’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas Eve, but instead of Christmas lights it's your car’s lowlights. The graphic designer  pays no mind to his friends as they wish him goodbye and goodluck, throwing on his jacket with a wave. 

The night air whizzes by, Jungkook’s floppy black strands bouncing with each step as he bounds to your car. He throws your door open, bringing in the cold air as he regards you as easily as an old friend would. 

“Hi,” he chirps, placing his tattooed palms by the air vent, “c’mon, let’s order.” 

“You know, you could’ve ordered inside and brought it in here.” 

“Yeah but then it would take longer to get to you,” the cheeky grin that Jungkook throws at you is unmistakable, “c’mon, get out the car and let’s switch.” 

“Huh?” 

“You look tired, you didn’t come back from the office again, did you?” 

“I did tonight,” you say, “I just really wanted to get the soft copy of the article done and—” 

“Out, out!” Jungkook clicks your seatbelt off and he’s coming out of the passenger side, opening your car and pulling you out by the hand, “c’mon, I’ll drive.” 

You shake your head, hiding your smile in your hand as you let Jungkook do what he wants. Normally you’d be insulted that anyone suggests they should drive your car but Jungkook would always drive you around, saying he loved long rides. Above all, if you could trust anyone to drive your car, Jungkook is at the top of the list. 

Buckling in, you bite the inside of your cheek as Jungkook easily pulls out of the parking spot one-handed. His jacket is pulled up to his elbows, exposing his veins as he expertly whirls the wheel in the direction of the drive-thru. Since college he’s always looked very attractive driving.  

Doesn’t mean you have to act like you’re still in college. You tamp those feelings down, knowing that your article probably has you feeling stuck in time. 

“—coming along?” 

“Wha?” 

“I said, how’s the spread coming along?” 

“It’s pretty much done, I think. I’ll send you the hard copy when it’s ready,” you tap your fingers against the dashboard, “but are you sure you’re okay with me writing it? I know I’m using a pseudonym and everything for you two but I still feel weird—” 

“It’s fine, I think it’s a good thing,” and you still squirm in your seat when he flashes you a genuine smile, “I mean, it kinda is a funny story and I think it’s good for both of us. Like closure, y’know? Moving on and—hi, can I get two Oreo McFlurrys and a large fry? Thanks!” he pulls out his wallet to scan the total on the e-reader.  “I mean, didn’t it feel good writing it?”

“Yeah,” you replied honestly, relaxing in your seat, “like, college was fun and all, but when Jisoo kinda ruined all that… after awhile I didn’t think it was ruined after all, y’know? I still made amazing friends and ended up where I wanted to be. I want to show the readers that shit happens, and that’s okay. And if things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.” 

The summer playlist hums in the background as Jungkook pulls up to the pick-up window. He thanks the worker and hands you the tray, and you make quick work to put the fries in the first cup holder for optimal sharing. He doesn’t park at McDonalds, but instead smoothly pulls out of the restaurant into the direction of his apartment. It isn’t a particularly long drive, but you figure it would be easier for Jungkook to go home first if you’re already parked at his complex. 

“What do you mean by that?” Jungkook parks in the driveway of his apartment, taking his McFlurry from your hands. 

“Mean by what?” 

“If things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.” 

“Well, we’re here now, right?” 

Jungkook pops his spoon in, swallowing vanilla and a silly smile through his coral pink lips, “We’re here now,” he repeats. 

The night air is cool and your conversation is warm. You promise Jungkook that you’ll send him the final copy of your spread as soon as it’s done, and you two eagerly deviate away from the past and focus on the present. 

You can’t help the eagerness that flows between you, as if you’ve never spent time apart like this and it’s only now that you’re reuniting. It must be absence that makes the heart grow fonder, because you swell with affection and you find Jungkook’s presence sweeter than any kind of ice cream. 

Are you dating now? Maybe. You and Jungkook are going on dates, everything without the title. McFlurry runs, marathons of HGTV’s Design on a Dime, having lunch at each other’s respective buildings with the Wusbands. Whether these dates are exclusive or not is unknown, but you figure the question will present yourself one way or another. 

You’re in a good place right now, potential relationship or not. After all, your priorities are simultaneously positive and in order: family, work, friends, and any potential romantic trysts are at the very bottom. You could kiss the cover of this month’s issue (and trust, you have kissed your own copy multiple times) if it is not for the fact that this specific issue is for Jungkook. 

So, romantic trysts and friends have a tendency to flip-flop on your priority list, but only because it’s Jungkook. 

Unsurprisingly, there’s no guilt knowing that you’re dating your former best friend's ex-boyfriend. 

After a much deserved early work day, Namjoon and the crew arrange a hearty happy-hour filled with good food and enough relaxation to last the weekend. With your combined successes, your team felt like they made the best issue yet. At the heart of it, The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth became a reckoning of each other’s young life. Despite the love and the growth that occurred from your college years up until this point, you’re glad to close that chapter and move forward. 

You did not tell Jungkook when the issue would come out, so you think it’ll be a fun surprise for him when he sees it magically show up at his apartment. Bending down you move to slip the issue under his door, one hand pushing it under while one hand braces against the frame to steady your balance. 

Just as the shiny cover glides under the door it swings open, and you fall flat on Jungkook’s feet. 

Being the little shit he is, he simply giggles at the blunder, looking at you with excited eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he says. 

“Creepy as hell, Jeon,” you mutter under your breath, brushing the dirt off your aqua pencil skirt. Looking at him from your spot on the floor and his large height, you grimace. “You look like a middle-aged serial killer looking outside your peephole.” 

“Now, we know that’s not true.” he finally offers his hand, easily pulling you up to your feet. You follow him into his kitchen, where he’s cutting up fresh fruit. He throws your issue on the counter, gentle enough so it doesn’t slide off the granite. He gestures to himself with both hands, “me, a dashingly handsome late twenty-something in Nike sweats who can bench-press two of you? Totally not a middle-aged serial killer.” 

“It’s in the eyes,” you chastise, “you look crazy.” 

“Maybe I’m just crazy excited to see you,” he says with a cheeky grin. 

You try your best not to choke on your spit at the cheeseball comment, throwing a blackberry in your mouth. Savoring the burst of tart flavor that fills your mouth, you wait for Jungkook to plate the fruit before meeting him on the couch. He’s holding a prettily arranged plate of berries, bananas, and mango with a huge dollop of whipped cream in the middle. In his other hand is Big Hit’s magazine. 

Throwing your blazer on the couch’s arm you don’t hesitate to cuddle up next to him, eagerly waiting for him to read your spread. 

The cover gazes back at the two of you like a reflection. The entirety of the staff is posed on the cover, made to look like a class photo. Some of you are holding balloons in your respective school colors, many of you grouping up with whoever happened to go to college together. You and Vernon are wearing matching university sweaters with silly grins on your faces. In the middle of the issue is the editor-in-chief, Victoria Song holding a placard that reads: Class of Youth. 

Jungkook spares you a glance from the corner of his eye, your head naturally tucked into his shoulder. With an exaggerated sigh, he fiddles through the glossy pages, “Hmm, which one should I read first?” 

“Of course you’ll read mine first,” you pout. 

“Ah, Namjoon’s looks really fun. Or Vernon’s? New York looks pretty cool,” he flips to a random page, “wait, Yerin’s spread is a Korean cookbook! I definitely want to make some tuna rice...”  

“Jungkook,” you whine, “read mine.” 

“I don’t know,” he taps his finger on his lip, “I mean, I pretty much know your spread because I’m already in it. It would be kind of redundant to read it.” 

“Kook, you’re being mean,” you glower, rubbing your cheek against his soft sweater. He’s just so damn comfy. 

“I’m kidding,” he tugs at your cheek, “where’s the table of contents, first page?”

“I’m on page eighty-three.” 

You speed up the process like an impatient child, leaning over to brush the pages to the desired spread. You even dog-earred it, a habit that drives Jungkook crazy as he immediately fiddles to iron out the crease. 

“Are you gonna read it to me too, mom?” he teases. 

“Okay fine! I’ll be quiet, but don’t take too long.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

Eyes fluttering, you let Jungkook take his time to absorb your piece. A roommate by any other (rude) name: the lost letter. A cheesy, gimmicky title that Victoria insisted upon that you had no choice but relent to. The rest of the spread thankfully has a very authentic edge to it, your story laced with photos of you and Jungkook, your internship with Vernon, and most importantly, a scan of the lavender letter that got left in the past. 

Jungkook’s not silent through his read-through, either. He laughs at all the right parts, fueling your ego as his smile grows at your favorite lines. While he doesn’t directly engage in conversation, his positive energy is enough for you to make you feel like you’ve done your job right. It’s one thing to write about unknown celebrities and unnamed artists, but for people like Jungkook, the validation is personal. 

“It’s beautiful,” Jungkook says when he’s read it thrice through, running his thumb over a picture of you. “Really organic. Really, real.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he chuckles, having run out of adverbs. “It’s funny, too. I liked your little internal monologue. I wish I knew how you felt back then.” 

“I wish you did, too.” 

You’re quietly munching on a strawberry, looking over a polaroid Jungkook took. It was  sometime in the beginning of senior year, where you’ve fallen asleep on his mattress, drool drying on your mouth. Normally you’d be opposed to having such unflattering, grainy pictures amongst your writing, but it encapsulates the youth you’ve tried so hard to chase away. 

“How do you feel?” Jungkook says, switching out the magazine for the plate of fruit, placing it on his side. 

“Feel great, actually,” you muse, smiling to yourself. By no means are you a hero writing some grand gesture in an entertainment magazine, but you feel like you’ve saved yourself. You’ve savored your youth in four thousand words, cutting out the poison and keeping the moment as sweet as it can be. 

“I’m proud of you,” he reaches to ruffle your hair, and you don’t even get mad when it tousles out of your pinned style. 

Reveling in the attention, you simply close your eyes and feed yourself a handful of blueberries. 

“Love that I make money, but I definitely miss college from time to time,” Jungkook stretches, jostling you out of your comfortable position. “Like I remember Taehyung and I would take turns bringing backpacks to the dining hall so we could stuff fruit in it for later.”

“Yeah, but as much as I loved college I wouldn’t go back,” you nod to yourself, “I’m happy where I am now.” 

“What about when we stayed up for midnight breakfast? The dining hall was filled to the brim with food. Remember when I tried to eat a whole stack of pancakes?” 

“Jungkook…” 

“Or when our classes got cancelled and we went to Lotte World? You ate way too much funnel cake and I had to carry you to the car!” 

“Jungkook—” 

“And that one time we snuck out to the music hall’s rooftop?” words gush out of Jungkook’s mouth like a waterfall, unable to relent, “that’s when I realized I liked you. I liked you so much, I tried to tell you that night but choked—”

“Jungkook!” and he immediately zips up, frowning. You straighten up, on your knees as you reach over to run your hands through his onyx tresses, moving the styled strands to the back of his pierced ears, “Jungkook,” you repeat softly, “I’ve heard all these stories, I was there for most of them. As much as I love the past… can we talk about something else?” you give him a small, tentative smile to show him you’re not mad, but a little uncomfortable at his reminiscing. 

He leans into your touch, pressing your palm against the soft swell of his warm cheek. “Okay,” he agrees, resting one hand on your thigh. 

You’re roped in his gaze, and you have to force yourself to breathe when Jungkook moves closer to you. He hooks a leg behind his back, and another across his lap. A cool breeze kisses your inner thighs when your skirt exposes your cotton underwear. You should be embarrassed but instead you’re fixated, unable to understand what he’s trying to accomplish. 

“Then I’m gonna talk about the future,” Jungkook traps you between the couch, his thumb running hot circles to where your skirt has hiked up. It exposes a slip of the thigh that Jungkook has seen a million times. He’s seen you walking around your apartment in a large shirt, ridden up to your boyshorts. It’s different now, you feel exposed and tingly, thrumming with excitement. “I like you, obviously anticipated news and old news. I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to go on dates with you, re-watch Avatar, grumble when I force you to come to the gym with me,” he bumps noses with you when you scrunch yours, “I wanna be with you. Heck, I’ve even cleared space in my spare room so you’d have closet space for all your fancy designer suits if you ever need it.”

“You cleared space?” you manage to choke out. Visions of a shared apartment roll through your brain. Cooking meals together, having two toothbrushes side by side, and waking up to his face. 

“Of course I did. Do you know how financially attractive you are?” he says lightheartedly, “you’re a sexy working woman and it’s crazy to imagine you’d want to settle for me and my little apartment. But I have to try now because if I don’t, it’ll be too late.” 

“That’s not true,” you retort, “you’re not someone I’d settle for. I want you, and no one else.” 

He chuckles, running a thumb over your cheek. “Then what are we waiting for? Your key’s hiding under the mat.” 

“Jungkook…” on the tip of your tongue lays the words you’re going too fast but it doesn’t make its way to the air. 

“But do you really think it’s too fast?” he reads your face clearly, “these feelings never went anywhere. They were locked away, sure. And I loved her,” he can’t even say the name, not when you’re warm and flush against him, “but I loved our friendship more.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you breathe, letting the cogs in your brain roll until sparks develop. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he concedes, “I just wanted to let you know. Could’ve done the letter thing all over again and let the past repeat itself. I know Namjoon wouldn’t hide a love letter for two years, but if I left another damn letter he’d definitely make a copy and tease me about it.” 

You snort, pressing your forehead to his. You’re practically buried in the couch now, tingly and vibrating with happiness. “And I’m not going to leave you hanging. I do want to say something,” and he looks at you expectantly, licking the leftover berry juice on his lips, nearly making you miss your train of thought, “I like you too,” you say, the other L-word is also applicable, but you feel like that phrase is reserved for another time, “I want to show you off on work vacations, bring you along as my date and show them you’re my muse,” you confess, “I wanna play video games with you ‘till 2AM, and eat ice cream in the comfort of our apartment instead of our cars because we’re too stubborn to admit we don’t wanna go home without each other.” 

Jungkook absolutely preens at the affection, sending you a heart melting smile that has your stomach doing backflips.

“Jungkook, I want to fall in love with you again.” 

Your squeal of surprise is swallowed by Jungkook’s lips, tasting of mangoes and berries as strong hands cup your backside, easily lifting you onto his lap. You plop under his strong thighs, feeling them flex against yours. The both of you are pouring in this kiss, raining with promises and hopes for a future with each other. His taste is concentrated, and you can feel the devotion practically injected in his embrace. 

When he pulls away his lips are cherry-red and shiny, looking up at you through clear coffee eyes. “This isn’t a dream, right?” he looks at you up and down, unable to decipher fact from fiction, “because I distinctly remember two wet dreams that involve you looking like this.” 

Looking down, you heat at the disarray you’re in. Hair wild and parted in different wavelengths, tired of the day’s efforts. Your slightly sheer dress-shirt is rumpled, the lace collar opened with two popped buttons revealing your cleavage, and your skirt is stretched so tight that it’s ruched all the way up your thighs. Sprawled across Jungkook’s lap, you’re dangerously close to something long and hard. 

Emboldened, you clutch at Jungkook’s collar, pulling him closer. 

“Show me what happens in your dream,” you whisper into his ear, barely brushing your clothed core against his crotch, “maybe we can make it come true tonight.” 

You can’t see his face, but you feel something dark and sensual overtake him. The grip on your ass tightens, a delicious pain that has you pressing your breasts against him and nipping on his ear, your tongue darting sensually through the cold silver hoops that dart through his skin. 

Within seconds, he rips you away from his neck and demands, “Open.” 

Dazed, you barely get a centimeter of your mouth open when Jungkook presses something cold and sugary against your lips. Whipped cream. You manage to take a small bite of the tart strawberry that he holds by the viridian stem, rolling the flavor between your mouth as Jungkook paints the leftover whipped cream over your lips. Once he’s satisfied he then creates a white trail that leads to your cleavage. 

Better than any dream, his eyes drink you in like the last glass of water in a desert. Your lips are swollen and parted like a baby kitten, covered in the creamy confection. “So pretty,” he exhales, his hot tongue licking from your cleavage to your lips, swallowing the flavor of you and strawberry juice, “such a pretty girl you are, and all mine.” 

“Yours,” you submit easily, rolling your hips against his. 

At that moment you think you’re meant to fall in love this way. You can’t imagine the shy, fumbly Jungkook and your equally confused self waltzing around a relationship when you barely had your lives together. The two of you still had growing to do. The wait is certainly worth it, because as you feel his arms tighten around you, you’re sure this love will stay strong.

It’s difficult for you to find a rhythm at first, what with Jungkook’s strength and need to be satiated, both of you are sloppy but the friction is nothing less than delicious. Your finger reaches over to swipe at the leftover cream on the plate, and you press your finger to Jungkook’s mouth, and he immediately complies. A dollop of sweet cream leaks out of his lips and your panties dampen further when you feel his tongue lick you clean, imagaining how good it would feel if it was your pussy he was licking. 

Your mouth waters at the feeling of his dick lining up against your core, as sticky as the strawberry juice that clings to your bodies. 

“C-can I make a confession? I—oh, Jungkook…” your mind is all fuzzed up when he snaps his hips against yours, causing you to shamelessly bounce on his length. 

“Yeah?” 

“I… I like it when you use all your strength like that,” his hips slow as your words sink in, but you don’t mind as it gives you time to make a long drag along the entirety of his member. “Everytime you pull me up when I trip, or you come back from a workout, I like it when you carry me around like I weigh nothing.” 

“Do—do you think about it a lot?” he grunts, and you stifle a moan when he does a slow, hard drag against your wet folds. “Tell the truth.” 

“It’s, it’s embarrassing,” you whimper, unable to think straight with the amount of stimuli you’re receiving.  

“Please, baby.” 

“Yes mm—oh! I do,” you try to get the words out as quickly as you can. He stops moving, and you groan in frustration so you just lay it all out on the table. “I, I love it when you hold me in your strong arms. And, ah, uh w-henever you come back from the gym you just look so sexy fresh from the shower. Sometimes I think about how you’re too damn nice for your own good but I bet you’d be so rough in bed.” 

“Really?” and then he’s shoving you onto the couch, air brushing against your bare thighs as your back hits the beige throw pillows. He’s hovering, dark eyes starting from the tip of your toes to your damp lips. “You like it when I manhandle you? Throw you around like a little doll?” 

“All that strength, and for what?” you try to keep your snappy remarks in check, but it’s hard when he’s pressing his straining dick against your thigh, weeping and needy. 

“You’re not gonna be joking about my strength anytime soon, baby,” emblazoned, he easily throws your leg over his shoulder, pushing your panties to the side to let your wetness leak out and onto his fingers, “are you gonna complain or be a good girl?” 

“Yes, I’m ah—” you wince when he inserts a finger, “I’ll be good for you,” 

“My good girl,” he revels in the way you melt under his touch, your previous sarcasm quickly dissolving into a puddle. You always had an inkling that Jungkook would be a sneaky fox in bed, all that muscle hidden behind a kind smile and a penchant for tea with milk and honey. 

Jungkook slips in another finger, stretching you and preparing you for what’s to come. He’s scissoring you at a sensible pace that has you squirming and wanting more. To prevent you from shimmying off the couch he holds you down with his free hand, and you love the way he practically feeds you to the couch, hands dancing over your neck as he shoves you further into the furniture. 

“You look so gorgeous,” he says, causing you to moan and keen at his attention, “you’re such a strong, gorgeous woman. Having you sprawled out like this, ready to do whatever I want to you is so fucking hot.” 

“I’m—I’m only weak for you Jungkook,” you say honestly, tears pricking when he dips another finger. The stretch burns deliciously, and your folds eagerly swallow him up until you’re filled to the brim. Your fingers or toys cannot compare to flesh, and you sigh in relief when you see his inked fingers pick up the pace once more. 

“You’re damn right,” Jungkook husks, and with a grain of love he murmurs in your ear, “I’m only weak for you, too.” 

And that’s when he snaps, thumb rolling against your bud as he slams his other fingers against you, going at a brutal pace. You cry out, not caring whether his neighbors hear as he pulls you back and forth through pleasure and pain. 

“T-too much, Kookie,” you mewl, your hand warbling to find his, “I, ah, ‘m gonna cum!” 

“That’s the plan,” he only goes faster, stretching your band further and further before your desired high is reached. His hand trails up to force your chin straight, looking up at him, “let go for me, baby. Wanna feel your pussy clench around my fingers.” 

In seconds, you gush. It has you in a slight panic, drunk on endorphins as you try to lift your head up but Jungkook’s hand is firmly pressing you on your shoulder as he fingers you efficiently through your high, the wet squelching sounds only increasing with your cries. His lap is drenched in your arousal, along with his chin and lips glistening with your essence. 

He finally releases you when you’re practically shaking, his hands sticky and creamy. You moan when he shamelessly licks them within your view, making sure to wrap his tongue around his ink-stained digits. 

“I,” your mouth is dry when you feel the dampness that hits your bottom, “I’ve never, I don’t remember ever—” 

Your babbles are lost between your throat and Jungkook’s tongue, shoved deep into your mouth. Tasting your arousal has you practically vibrating in your place, as you two rut against each other like hungry bunnies. 

“God, you’re amazing,” he says between pecks, kissing away your face of any tears you may have pricked, “Amazing, adorable, absolutely beautifulIadoreyousoso—” 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you press your hips up, wiggling for more attention, “please fuck me, Jungkook.” 

You can’t help the witchy, satisfied smile when Jungkook’s eyes darken to a thick coal, “Anything for you,” he murmurs, swinging your legs between his arms as he lifts you like a feather. 

On his lap again, you soon accept that the way you two mesh like puzzle pieces is one of your favorite positions as it gives you both equal space to ravish each other. 

Just when your hand trails to the waistband of his boxer briefs and you’re rolling your thumb over its collected moisture, the moment is shattered when the doorbell rings. You jump in his arms, unprepared for your moment to be interrupted. 

He groans into the crown of your hair, and you soften in his relaxed hold, “I ordered us pizza,” he nearly forgot. 

Perking your head up to look at him you regard him innocently, as if you didn’t release a waterfall on his sweats two seconds ago. “You got us pizza?” 

“I knew you’d be coming over tonight,” he’s pouting into your neck, regretting ever having called the pizza guy if he knew this would happen, “Victoria posted the publish date on Twitter. I just didn’t think,” he gestures vaguely to the mess on his pants, “this would happen.”  

“Damn, and here I thought I was being sneaky,” you chuckle, flicking his ear playfully. 

He gives you an uncharacteristically subby whine, shamelessly upset he has to let you go so fast after he’s given you your first of many highs. Before he weakens further under your beauty, he unceremoniously shoves you off. “Sorry, pretty girl,” you melt at the easy way his pet name rolls off his lips, “can you wait in my room for a bit so I can pay the delivery guy? I don’t want them to see you like this.” 

“But I want to eat pizza,” you declare stubbornly, standing up to button your blouse and pull down your skirt. 

Before you could fasten one button or pull down one centimeter, his hand darts out to snatch your wrist away from your body. It doesn’t hurt much, but it causes your body to heat in more places than one. He’s sexy like this, demanding your attention. “No,” he rumbles definitively, “my room. Now.” 

“Why?” you throw your hands in the air, yelping when he slaps your ass. He makes sure to make it sting, cupping you fully. 

“Because,” he says firmly, “you don’t get to eat until I eat,” you whimper when his hand reaches to cup your sex, panties wet and cold without his warmth as he pushes you in the direction of his bedroom. 

Oh, you can’t wait for both of you to eat tonight. 

some time later.

“Ohmygod the view is beautiful!” Krystal, who works in advertisement, squeals. “No filter needed!” 

“Alright alright, make room Princess,” Namjoon teases. With a bump to Krystal’s tiny hips Namjoon shoves you two across the pavilion, putting his arm around you once he finds the perfect angle, “Umji, can you get a pic of me and my Work Wife? I want this on the Big Hit Instagram!” 

You hold your straw sunhat down from the salty wind, smiling beautifully as Umji takes multiple pictures of you and Namjoon from her Nikon. Another successful year under your notch, ending with a successful work retreat. 

“Namjoon, can I take a picture with my actual wife now?” 

“We’re not married, Jungkook,” you chastise, patting the chest of Namjoon’s floral printed Hawaiian shirt so he can switch. Instantly, Jungkook slides up next to you like a picture perfect stock model piece, and you wrap your arms around his trim waist, “we’re not even engaged.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he pouts, looking over the pavilion and adjusting the both of you so there’s a good amount of you and the resort in the background. The sun may be scathingly hot, but it looks beautiful perched over the crystal clear waters. “Namjoon, you got it easy,” Jungkook says when he hands him your phone, “every angle is our good angle, so you can’t mess it up.” 

Being the honest man he is, Namjoon knows better and doesn’t say anything to that. Instead he shoots down whatever pineapple-flavored concoction is offered to him on a silver platter, and starts shooting. 

“Is this swimsuit new?” Jungkook murmurs into your ear between shots, flicking your little red number by the strap connecting the back, “because I didn’t see this in the luggage.” 

You smile big, pearly whites as Namjoon demands to pop out your butt and work it, pressing your body closer to Jungkook’s. “Tiny enough so I could hide it in my purse,” you reply proudly, voice low for only each other’s ears, “why, surprised?” 

“Definitely not prepared,” his fingers dig deliciously in your bare flesh, “would Victoria fire you if she catches us doing it in the cabana?” 

Amused that your boyfriend now shares your combined awe and fear of your boss, you twist his nipple lightly. He yelps, and from Namjoon’s guaff he’s definitely got that on camera. “We didn’t come to Boracay to fuck in the cabana.” 

“Then the hotel room?” 

Namjoon hands you back your phone when he considers his job done, letting you and Jungkook have some alone time. You wave your phone in his face, trying to get him to focus on the task at hand. You wanted to post some cute pictures of you and your boyfriend, one to impress the family back home and the Big Hit interns back in Seoul who are absolutely pining for your position. 

“Jungkook, they have the water ski thing where you can flip in the water mid air! Doesn’t that sound fun? Or we can go scuba diving, have Filipino food, or get massages. LIterally, we’re on Big Hit’s dime, and the first thing you want to do is go back to the room?” 

“Yes,” he pouts petulantly, leaning into the hollow of your ear and whispering, “got a chub on.” 

Discreetly so, your hands brush against his navy trunks and you note yes, he’s half hard. “No!” you shake your head definitively, pushing him out of your arms. You’re not letting sex get in the way of your hard-earned vacation, you’re on company dime and you intend to milk every peso of it. “Namjoon, take him away!” 

You blow him a kiss and follow another group who’s decided to go eat, watching your boyfriend get dragged away by Namjoon’s long arms. Krystal, who’s been mildly watching the whole ordeal in-between taking selfies, looks at you in awe, “You got it good, bosslady,” she says, and you happily link arms with her in the direction of the restaurants. 

You and Jungkook definitely have it good. You don’t see him until dinnertime, looking utterly relaxed as he sips on a mango-muddled concoction. He must’ve gotten a couples massage with Namjoon, cute. Splitting up was definitely a good idea, by the time your meal arrives the two of you are practically leaning against each other, telling each other what events you need to do tomorrow and events you think will be fun to do together. 

“Joon,” Jungkook is throwing an arm over your Wusband’s shoulder, mildly tipsy. The image is adorable, as Jungkook long ago previously confessed that he felt a little jealous of Namjoon’s work relationship with you before you were dating. Now, it feels like they’re best friends and you’re third-wheeling. “What do you think about having halo-halo tomorrow? It’s like bingsu but with a bunch of other good stuffs. There’s red bean, mango, ube, ice cream…” 

Just as Jungkook begins his tirade of dessert ingredients, you pull up your phone to check on your social media. You smile back at your profile, seeing your latest Instagram post at the very top of the feed. Not to flex, but the two of you look pretty smokin’ since you’ve been keeping up with Jungkook’s insistence to join him at the gym. Jungkook and you are leaning against the pristine veranda, overlooking the clear blue water and a cloudless sky. The smiles you two sport are genuine and utterly in love. 

You scroll down the comments, most of them filled with sweet messages but one of them has you doing a double take. 

@sooyaaa__: 😒😒😒 knew something was goin on behind my back… good riddance

The smell of Jungkook’s detergent overtakes your nostrils, and you turn to him. He’s stopped talking, now immersed in whatever’s going on in your phone. 

“The nerve of her,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, disgusted at her latest comment. “As if anyone would believe her.” 

“Yeah,” you echo, “I feel bad for her, though. She’s probably lonely.” 

“Her loss, she put this upon herself. Not us.” 

You pout, “I know, but she was my friend at one point.” 

He frowns, putting an arm behind your backrest. It would be easy for him to say yeah, and she was my girlfriend and one-up you, leaving it at that. But now he knows better, and that friendship is a much better value than an ill-fated relationship. “Sorry baby,” it’s not his fault, but he sees your disappointment in putting out hope for an old friend. He gives you a little smooch on your temple, “do you miss her?” 

“The old her, yeah,” you sigh, clicking on her profile, “but now? I can do without her negativity.” 

“Okay,” he takes your phone from your hand, “have you ever blocked a person before?”

“No.”

“Well, today’s the day,” he says it so coolly, you barely have time to think when he clicks the ‘block’ button on Jisoo’s profile, then clicking off his phone to put in his pocket. “No more phone for today,” he proceeds to take your plate that was recently served, taking the time to cut your large vegetables into smaller portions. “Like you said, we shouldn’t waste your vacation time.” 

Your heart swells with butterflies for Jeon Jungkook, who’s meticulously cutting your food and telling you to relax and stop dwelling on the past. He’s right, if Jisoo’s not going to stick around for the future and continue to cause negativity in your life, why not keep the positives in the past while it lasted? 

“You know I love you, right?” 

He ceases cutting, and looks at you to pop a sweet potato in his mouth. “Love me enough to do it in the cabana?” 

He’s still on that? “Jungkook,” you warn, pretending to get up, “forget I said anything. I’m gonna go karaoke with Umji.” 

“Kiddingggg,” he whines, pulling you back down with an outstretched hand, “you know I love you too.” 

“You’re terrible.” 

“Only this way because I’d know you’d totally be into cabana sex if we were vacationing by ourselves.” 

“Yes, but you’re still terrible,” you giggle when Jungkook steals a kiss, just as easy as he’s stolen your heart.  

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #gcn23 #goldenclosetnet #btsghostie #jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts fic #bts smut #a big weight is off my shoulders

[spinster-sisters]

Sailor's Wife. psh

Pirate au

TW: ngl this gets kind heavy right in the beginning then it gets kinda soft right at the end so like idk. dom seonghwa, sub reader, degradation, use of the word whore(also wench cuz like pirates), oral, edging, possessiveness, breeding kink. oops, manhandling.

Normally i try my darndest to not get too wordy but for this I let it happen.

@xiuminswifeforever this ones for u. also this got a little carried away but heyyyyy what can ya do.

Also @multidreams-and-desires @a-soft-hornytiny and @eonghwa may possibly probably will enjoy this to so have at it

Perhaps you should be more understanding with your husband Seonghwa. After all, your ship had a name and a reputation to uphold, which would not be possible without the efforts of both him and your captain Hongjoong. But you were still stuck on a ship at sea, without much to do. It had been 4 days since you last made port, and it is likely you wouldn't dock for at least another 10. And with your husband ignoring your needs for the sake of maintaining perfect order on board as First Mate, you were feeling a little stir crazy.

Of course as the First Mates wife, and notable figure amongst the crew you had your own reputation to uphold as both a devoted wife and skilled sailor. So when you and your closest confidantes on board tried to blow off some steam by dipping into the bottles of rum during broad daylight on the top deck of the ship, your antics turn more than a few heads among the lower-ranking members of the crew.

It's true that Seonghwa had been neglecting you, instead spending the hours of the night pouring over maps and charts with the Capitan. And San and Wooyoung had always given you all the attention you missed. So in your slightly inebriated state, your place on Wooyoungs lap touseling his long hair felt more than natural.

The three of you were causing quite a ruckus, laughing, shouting, knocking over barrels and crates, and other general tomfoolery. It was only a short while before your Husband came bursting through the door on the far end of the deck (Capitans Quarters) scanning the ship for the cause of the disturbance.

Once he found it his eyes narrowed. He stalked over to your happy gathering, which had only briefly acknowledged him, with furry radiating of every step. Once he stood glowering before you, you finally gave him your attention.

"Seonghwa! Darling! How nice to see you!" You called, still on Wooyoungs lap. You swung your arms out to him and gestured for him to come to you but he ignored it. The slightly shrill cry of your voice had once again attracted the attention of the crew.

"We don't pay you to gawk. Back to work all of you!" Seonghwas powerful voice carried over to the men, who sprung into action, heads turning quickly away. Seonghwa turned his hard stare back to the three of you.

"I want all three of you off this deck, in your quarters in the next 5 minutes," he began low and growling, "or so help me God I will throw you overboard myself!" As he carried on his voice grew in both anger and volume. But the three of you, foolishly perhaps, did not heed his warning.

"Oh, come on now Seonghwa. Don't be such a hard ass" San remarked giggly. Seonghwas gaze snapped to the man and opened his mouth to speak but Wooyoung interjected.

"We were just showing your lovely wife a good time," he spoke with a lopsided smirk, hand coming down to your thigh. And the Frist Mate followed the action with dangerous eyes.

You stood from your spot on wobbly feet, taking a step closer to your husband, and took the front lapels of his long sea-worn jacket into your hands and practically hung on the man.

"Come now, Seonghwa. Won't you find it in your heart to be lenient with your darling little wife," you pleaded jokingly, batting your eyelashes. Seonghwa was not amused.

He took your wrist into his hand and with a strong grip, he pulled you away from him so quick you almost toppled to the floor, but not before he yanked your arm back with equal strength, leaning down to be right in your face as he spat.

"I do not see the darling wife you speak of, all I can see is a drunk ship wench without the mind to Do. As. Shes. Told. Now go back to our room and hope with all your might you sober up before I get there."

As his speech concluded he pushed you away again, this time in the direction of the stairs that led below deck. You were practically in shock as you bowed your head and stumbled to wooden stairs, the distant yells of your husband now directed at the other two men. taking the stairs down to the first floor where there were 7 small rooms for the officers aboard, including you and your husband's room at the end of the short hall.

Now perhaps you were drunker than you realized because the gentle swaying of the ship with the waves had you practically falling over with every step and by the time you reached your room you had all but collapsed onto the bed, drifting in and out of consciousness with the tides.

Perhaps, Seonghwas words had been empty threats as when you finally awoke (unfortunately sober) you could see the dusk sky shining through the small window at the back of the tiny room. Your head pounded when you sat up, but the uncomfortableness of your day clothes was undeniable.

You slipped out of the hard leather of your coat and boots and pulled the linen shirt over your head. After removing your ragged pants from your body you moved to pull your soft nightgown over your head but stopped when the door open. Ready to scream at the person who disturbed you in private you only stoped when your eyes landed on your cross-looking husband. You scoffed at the man in the door and turned your back to him.

"Oh no darling, you can't run away from me this time," he said rounding the bed to stand behind you, "your actions today were absolutely inexcusable, no matter what marriage you benefit from" he growled at you.

You scoffed again and whipped around to face him, still completely bare.

"Darling? Who on earth could you be talking to, certainly not me. As I recall I was nothing more than a ship wench." You spat his own words back at him.

"Don't try to be smart," he snapped at you, taking another step closer, " Today you behaved like nothing more than an attention-hungry whore, and if you expect me to set that aside simply as your husband you are far from wrong darling," his voice spoke dangerously even.

"Perhaps I have a right to be starved for attention! As you seem certainly more than willing to leave me alone for days on end," you returned with equal venom. This seemed to shock Seonghwa, though his anger did not lessen he remained quiet.

"What kind of husband leaves their wife for days on end without so much as a touch! Perhaps I should go find Wooyoung? As I know he would be more than willing to give me the kind of attention you have been denying me,"

As soon as the words left your mouth you knew they had been a mistake, you opened your lips to take them back but Seonghwas hand caught your throat in an instant, catching your breath.

"You want me to act like a husband? Perhaps I should treat you as a husband should treat their wife when they say such things," he glowered, eyes sharpening with rage.

He released his grip on your neck only to push you back onto your creaking bed. As you caught your breath Seonghwa tossed his own coat away from him and loosened the ties of string keeping the top of his shirt together, but not removing it completely. He climbed onto your exposed body, keeping you trapped beneath his weight. He ran one lean hand from your neck down to your breast and groped it with rough hands. You moaned in pleasure, finally, your body practically screamed. He scoffed at you.

"You want to be treated like a wife yet you sound like such a whore, crying out for me at the slightest touch, perhaps I should teach you how to appreciate what you are given."

He moved away from your body before wrenching your legs apart. You blushed madly at how his words and touch had affected you, your cunt was already sopping wet at the idea of your husband finally putting it to use.

"Tsk, so desperate. Have a taught you nothing?" he grumbled to himself.

"Sorry, sir" you whined. He meets your eyes for just an instant, showing him that you had not forgotten all of your manners with him. He wasted not another moment before pulling your hips twords his head and licking up your dripping folds. A strangled cry left your lips.

Just as he set to work, licking and sucking all of the places on you that he knew to be useful. His hand returned to your breast, kneading the flesh between his long fingers with a rough grip.

You were at his mercy. Your body was his to toy with and he knew how to play you well. His tongue dove into your slit, further than should be possible, using the muscle to open the neglected hole and taste the essence now running down his chin. He lapped away at your cunt, taking all he wanted from you while you lay there limp and twitching with the occasional cry of ecstasy.

His fingers pinched the hard bud of your nipple and pulled on it, bringing a cry from your lips. Normally cries like these were reprimanded, but you had a feeling your husband wanted the whole ship to know exactly what he was doing to his wife.

You were coming closer and closer to the orgasm you so desperately needed. Your body was reacting to every touch with increased sensitivity as it hadn't been used in so long, and Seonghwa was oh so skilled at pulling these feelings out of you, the fire burning in your belly was twisting and reveling, begging to be realized.

You cried out again, feeling you're about to get that sweet sweet release you so craved.

When it all stopped.

You cried out again but this time in strangled desperation and confusion. You locked eyes with your husband and plead you were wrong about what is happening.

Seonghwa simply pulled away, unbothered, he stood from the bed and you felt your heart shatter as he moved across the floor. He picked up a rag and wiped his face clean before turning back to your still panting figure.

"Remember, when you married me you gave your sweet, soft body to me. And now any pleasure it receives is mine to control. I want you to think about what you just experienced and learn to appreciate all that I give you. Now, I am going to return to my duties, and when I come back if I believe you have earned it I will treat you like my wife, and not some common whore."

And without another word, he left.

-

You laid their flabbergasted and unmoving for what felt like hours. As the sunset behind the horizon, you pulled your body up into a sitting position with your legs cradled to your chest. You don't dare act on the burning emptiness in your core, as you truly felt you had learned your lesson.

The minutes ticked on. Occasionally you heard the sound of feet coming down the ladder from down the hall and your stomach lept, but every time they continued down to the lower deck for the crew. Your mind wandered to your wedding day.

It had only been 4 years since that day. It was before you had joined the crew, but Seonghwa who you had known since your childhood had already been called to the sea by his friend and now captain. He had asked you to marry him the day before he left on his first voyage and you waited for him without a second thought. Once he returned months later he had already been made First Mate and you only had a week before he would be out at sea again. On the day of your wedding, you were scolded by your parents for allowing a lawless pirate to take you, but your father gave you away regardless. By the end of the night, you were already miles out to sea with your new husband and he showed you for the first time how well a wife could be treated.

Needless to say, you rediscovered your appreciation for the man.

So when the door finally opened once again, you only gazed at Seonghwa with stars in your eyes. He approached your side of the bed and took your chin into his hand, aiming your face up at his.

"Have you learned your lesson?" He asked. You nodded.

"Yes, sir," you spoke with a creaky voice. He cracked the smallest hint of a satisfied smile.

"Why don't you lean back, my darling"

And so you did. You fell back onto the blankets and watched as your husband finally pulled his shirt over his head and rid himself of his distressed pants. He climbed over you and took your head in his hand again and muttered,

"Now remind me, sweet girl, who's are you," he asked in a firm guiding voice.

"All yours, sir,"

"Wonderful, should I take what's mine then?" He asked in that same tone.

"Please sir," you replied.

Seonghwa leaned down to connect your lips in one sweet kiss that lasted only a moment before pulling away his demeanor changed. Hands ran down your sides pulling your legs to wrap around his thin waist.

"My darling wife, waiting so patiently for me," he mused. The tip of his cock teased your wet entrance, only pushing in the slightest bit but you clenched instinctively regardless.

"Maybe it has been too long," he chuckled darkly in your ear, "I almost forgot how eagerly you wish to be filled," he chided taking the lobe of your ear between his teeth. Your breath hitched, scared to make /the wrong move that would bring this all crashing to a halt.

In one fluid motion, Seonghwa pushed the rest of his length into you to the hilt. You whined desperately at the slightly painful stretch and screwed your eyes shut as the pain morphed into the sweetest pleasure.

"Ready, my darling?" He mumbled into your ear, a slight smirk in his voice.

"Please,"

And so he began. Pulling all the way out before slamming back in with the same force and speed. You cried out again.

Every time his hips met yours for that brief moment you relished in the feeling of being completely filled up by him. His length was long and he used it well. He knew your body well enough to know exactly how to angle your hips to be hitting your more sensitive places inside you every single time he thrust.

You clung desperately to his broad shoulders, allowing your body to become plaint again and for lewd sound to tumble past your lips into his ears. Each sound seemed to give him newfound strength, picking up speed and force every time.

"Oh, my sweet wife, letting me have my way with her," he mumbled, gripping your hip for leverage, the other hand gently caressing your body. "So desperate to be filled," he chuckled. You whined in agreement, pulling yourself tighter to his body as your sensitive walls clung and stretched around him.

"I could fill you up even more darling, would you like that?" He asked, panting slightly at the exertion.

You nodded blindly.

"I could fill you up with my cum, fill you up with my child," he groaned at the thought, "oh you would love that wouldn't you darling, letting me put a child in you," you clenched around his cock once again as he punctuated his words with one, particularly hard thrust into your special spot.

"Yes, sir" you replied breathlessly "please, fill me up with your child," it came out as nothing but a whisper, "want- want your baby,"

"I know you do darling, don't worry," he groaned. You were clenching around him madly and your orgasm was fast approaching. His grip on your hip and turned to iron and your body was convulsing.

"What kind of husband would I be if I didn't give my wife a baby,"

At those words, your body began to convulse. You finally felt that sweet really you had been denied for so long. Your eyes rolled back and your cunt was clenching frantically as the waves of pleasure came over you so strong you lost control of your limbs, crying out weakly Seonghwas name. Seonghwa kept his steady pace all the while until he himself was thrown over the edge.

You recognize the feeling of thick ropes of cum pouring into you. Seonghwas own cries had increased in volume as he emptied inside you. It took several seconds, but when he had finally milked the last of his orgasms from your body he pulled away.

You lay spent but completely content on the bed before him with what could only be described as a dopey smile. He always looked so beautiful when he came and even coming down yourself you had to admire the gorgeous man you married. He cracked his own smile at your face and leaned to give you a lingering kiss. And your eyes dropped closed.

"Go to sleep, darling, ill take care of you in the morning."

#ateez smut #ateez reactions #ateez scenarios #ateez au #ateez timestamp #seonghwa smut #seongwha timestamp #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa headcanon

[marvelmymarvel]

The Queen of Hearts

Hisoka x Reader

Synopsis: It was rough love, not the kind of love a princess would receive, but you weren’t a princess to Hisoka. No, to Hisoka, you were his queen and he knew what his queen wanted. You wanted it rough.

A/n: That synopsis sounds sexual, oops. Also, don't @ me but Hisoka totally calls his lover his queen of hearts... Its canon now, I’m making it canon.

“Why put up with him?” a scared whisper came from beside you as Hisoka sauntered away into the forest. Your back was pressed against the tree, breathless and euphoric as Hisoka’s grasp still lingered on your neck. This was the game, the game you’ve been playing for a while. Your love was weird, it was rough, and it wasn’t for everyone. 

But it was exactly what you wanted.

“Because I love him” you whispered back, your head lolling to the side as you took in the man hiding behind the other tree. His eyes were wide, but you could tell he was now afraid of you as well. If you could love a man who would pin you against a tree and choke you, then what would you do to another person? Your smirk turned sinister, this man was trying to take your number, that's why Hisoka did what he did. 

Taking off your number, you waved it in the air and pushed off the tree, “Oh, is this what you wanted?” His eyes widened and he shook his head violently, but you could tell instantly that he was lying. “Hmmm... You afraid of him?” you began to saunter over, flipping around the badge as you walked. Your goal was to taunt and survive until Hisoka got you three badges, but you didn’t realize it would be this easy. 

“H-he kills for fun!”

Your hand shot out and gripped his throat before slamming him against the nearest tree. He let out a scream, begging you to let him go. To let him live. “I’m not him, but I wouldn’t mess around with me... Because he cares a lot about me, and I wouldn’t want to have an angry Magician after me” the man continued to nod, sobbing as your words hit him to the core. “Even a scratch will have him reeling and chasing after you. Its a game to him, but you won't make it out alive. So why don't you be a good boy, and tell your friends to not fuck with me...” 

He didn’t respond with anything, only shook in your grasp as you squeezed harder and harder. Hisoka taught you how to survive, taught you how to threaten your way out of dangerous situations until he came to save you. This was only the first tactic, which told you instantly that the man before you was a pussy. Letting out a snarl, you shoved him to the ground where he choked and heaved for breath. You smiled sadistically down at him, warmth spreading throughout your body as you felt Hisoka’s presence behind you. The man scampered away, screaming and stumbling as he made his way deeper into the woods. Hisoka’s arms wrapped around your waist, his lips kissing sweetly against your neck as you curled back into him.

“You knew he was there didn't you?” 

He hummed against your skin, hands wandering down your body and gripping every piece of flesh that he could. You let out a moan and threw your head back against his shoulder, his touch becoming rough once more as he began to sink his teeth into your shoulder. Spinning you around, Hisoka shoved you against a tree. Your eyelids became hooded as his hand gripped your neck lightly while the other plunged deeply into your hair. Hisoka’s lips attacked yours, rough and passionate as he pushed his body up against you. No one fucked with you, not when he was around. 

“No one fucks with my queen of hearts” he growled out between breaths before plunging his tongue deep into your mouth. You moaned out and pressed your body up against his, begging for more friction. You wanted to be touched, you wanted to be manhandled. You wanted it rough and he gave it to you rough. Pulling back from your mouth, a trail of saliva formed between your parted lips and his tongue. “I’m your queen forever” you purred out, arms encircling his neck as you tried to pull him back down. 

But he didn’t move.

A smile formed on his lips, yet it wasn’t a usual one. It was full of love and protection, something he always managed to make you feel every single day. “Forever?” he teased, causing your cheeks to heat up in embarrassment. Maybe you said the wrong thing? You began to stutter out an explanation, something that would make the words seem like something different, but Hisoka was not having it. “Oh no no my queen, you can't take back your words!” his teasing only made it worse as you tried to hide your face in his shoulder, the two of you have been together for a while, but not once did either of you say what was on your minds. 

“I love you”

It came out of your throat like soap, as if it was something you couldn’t control. Hisoka seemed to tense up under you, yet he wasn’t denying it for once. But could he say the words? Did he really want you to know how he felt? Was it safe for you to know how he felt? The silence was deafening and you were beginning to feel sick, you should have stayed silent. Pulling back, you kept your head low and your tears at bay. “I... I don't really know if I... I don't know what love is” you nodded at his words, but it still hurt. Turning away, you walked back over towards your long-forgotten things that laid haphazardly on the ground. It was so hard to hear those words, yet you didn’t think it would hurt this bad. 

A hand grabbed your wrist, lightly spinning you back to face him. His hands moved quickly to grasp the sides of your face, keeping you still and looking up at him. “But I w-want to learn. I think I could, but it's strange. This feeling inside of me is strange” you rolled your eyes but let him wipe away the stray tears that had fallen, for some reason, seeing you cry because of him had his mind reeling and his heart aching. He probably already loved you, but he didn’t know how to express it in a way that wasn’t pinning you against something and making you scream his name. 

His lips came down and connected sweetly with yours, taking you aback as it never once turned sexual. He was just kissing you and holding you. It was strangely sweet, and you liked it. Kissing back, you decided that making him admit love for you was your goal. Hisoka pulled back but pressed a final kiss against your temple, “Let's stay together. As you know in chess, a queen without her king is easy to capture.” Your eyebrows scrunched together at his words, that's not how a game of chess was won! Before you could voice that knowledge, Hisoka had yanked you deeper into his grasp.

“In my game of chess, the king loses if the queen is captured. So stay close, and we will win” 

The smile that formed on your lips made his heart race faster. Pecking your lips once more, Hisoka knelt down and grabbed your belongings. Intertwining your fingers with his, he shot you a look before pulling you towards a meadow where you two would sit in silence and enjoy each other's company. He may not have said the three words you wanted to hear today, but soon his queen would get what she deserved.

Like you always did. 

#hisoka morow imagine #hisoka morow imagines #hisoka morow x reader #hisoka imagine #hisoka imagines #hisoka x reader #hunterxhunter imagine #hunterxhunter imagines #hunter x hunter imagine #hunter x hunter imagines #hunterxhunter #hunter x hunter #hxh imagine #hxh imagines #hxh hisoka

[siren1song]

Can’t Get Enough

Summary: Janus, Roman, and Virgil are planning to go out, but Virgil is taking way too long for Roman’s liking.

Warnings: None that I know of

Pairing: Anaroceit

Word Count: 882

General Taglist: @acanvasofabillionsuns, @emo-disaster, @greenninjagal-blog, @jungle321jungle, @sleepy-sides, @gattonero17, @another-sandersidesblog, @strawberryjellystuff, @logic-with-a-pinch-of-deceit, @gr3ml1n-loser, @main-chive, @orca-iguana, @spooky-scary-virgil, @yalltookmyurlideas, @sanderssidesweirdo, @stormypaint, @just-a-little-bit-gay-oops, @dying-is-a-hobby, @rose-gold-roman, @the-angry-ship, @rosesisupposes, @just-perhaps

Notes: I wrote this for @firey-alex‘s birthday!! It was really cute and I know it’s not exactly traditional flower shop/tattoo parlor au, but I hope you enjoy it all the same! (Yes, I know your birthday is in three days. No I will not wait to post this.)

Commissions!! | Buy Me a Kofi!! | Join Casper’s Crew!! | Ao3 Link!!

“Virgil!”

“Shut it, Royal Pain in my Ass! I’m still getting my binder on!”

“You’re taking thirty minutes to put on your binder?”

Janus sighed quietly, watching as his boyfriend did his best to drape himself dramatically over the rail for the stairs while he whined for their third boyfriend to come down the stairs.

“It’s been like… Ten minutes, Ro,” Virgil said, finally making an appearance at the top of the stairs, rolling his eyes with a fond smile directed towards the pouting drama king.

“That is still way too long to get dressed, UV Light of my life.”

Well that was an interesting one. Janus gave Roman props for creativity instead of falling back on Black Knight again.

“Did you just call me a UV Light?” Virgil asked, grabbing a plaid button up from a doorknob and shaking it out as he began to descend the stairs.

Roman and Virgil continued to bicker, but as soon as Virgil reached the halfway point, Janus’ eyes zeroed in on his shoulder and it took him two seconds to recognize the flowers layered vibrantly under his skin.

“Love bite, what’s that?” Janus asked, speaking up to interrupt Roman’s next quip and draw everyone’s attention to Virgil’s left shoulder where a poppy and a magnolia resided.

“Vee!” Roman gasped, though instead of putting his hand to his chest in mock offense like Janus had expected, he took a step up.

“Roman I swear to God if my railing breaks-” Virgil started, though he was laughing as Roman attempted to manhandle him closer to get a closer look at the tattooed flowers.

“This is not my work! Where did you get these done, Cauldron of love? Is this why you haven’t been changing your shirts in front of us the last month?”

Virgil raised an eyebrow at Roman, and Janus cleared his throat in an attempt to cover up a laugh.

“Roman, sweetheart, did you just admit to wanting to see my abs?” Virgil teased, his laughter flaring up again when Roman froze and then promptly let go of him to get his feet properly on the ground, instead of slotted between the railing to stand on one of the steps.

“I can’t help that your night hobby makes you eye candy, Virge,” Roman mumbled.

Janus cleared his throat again, then pulled himself off of Virgil’s couch so he could wrap his arms around Roman’s waist and place his chin on his shoulder, guiding the shorter man until they were able to face Virgil while he was on the first floor of the house with them.

“Roman is right, Love bite. You are very-” he punctuated the word with a quick once over of his boyfriend and a smirk, “pleasing to the eye.”

With Virgil’s face now red, the man huffed and turned away while he returned to putting on his usual purple plaid button up.

To avoid looking at them while he calmed down his own flusteredness no doubt.

“Okay, water bottles are in the fridge, you assholes, I’m not dealing with your thirstiness today,” Virgil said, swinging the shirt around his shoulders so he could slip his arms through the sleeve.

Janus and Roman watched him for a moment, watching the way the fabric hid well toned arms and the new tattoo of the flowers.

“Darling of the knight, did you pick those flowers for the colors or the meanings?” Roman asked, leaning back against Janus, who tightened his grip on the shorter man’s waist.

Virgil hummed, flipping the collar to lay flat and starting to roll up his sleeves while he thought, glancing at the two of them after a moment.

“More colors than meanings honestly, didn’t really feel like digging through flower meaning websites for something decent and no way was I gonna ask Janus when it was supposed to be a surprise.”

Janus couldn’t help the smile that spread along his face. He didn’t necessarily need to know flower meanings to own his flower shop. Flower arranging was more what looked pretty and worked well together, but he tended to familiarize himself anyway.

“Ah, and that’s why you risked another artist’s work. I suppose I can forgive you then, and you got lucky in this sense anyway, they’re very well done- wait.”

Virgil froze, looking at Roman who was scrutinizing him.

Janus wondered if their prince noticed the smile Virgil was fighting back or not.

“You did not!” Roman protested, pulling at Janus’ arms to try and get out of his grasp.

There was a pause, Virgil’s grin broke free in a silent admission of the “treachery” that was going to Remus’ own tattoo parlor, and Janus held tighter for just a moment.

“I suggest running love, I don’t think he’ll stop until he “punishes” you with kisses,” he warned, earning a blown kiss from Virgil before he bolted towards the front door and Roman finally got free.

Janus sighed, feeling his heart swell as he thought back on how when they’d met Virgil the man was facepainting a small child and make jokes to keep her smiling while he wouldn’t give them the time of day.

Oh how far they’ve come. Janus hoped “how far” would stretch into the rest of their lives. It would certainly make living worthwhile.

#casper writes #ts janus #ts roman #ts virgil #anaroceit #alex tag #flower shop/tattoo parlor au #roman sanders is dramatic #janus is a sap #virgil is a sap and also a little shit #this was so fun to write #i hope you like it lemon drop <3 #also im really proud of romans petnames in this kdfhkldfg

[shorkbrian]

INBOX

SO! I know I hoard asks. It’s a bad habit. Reasons?

I like to go look at them when I’m sad because they cheer me up.

I don’t want anyone to get annoyed that my blog is clogged up with asks, it’s a fear of mine that someone will think I'm annoying.

BUTT! My inbox is so cluttered right now, It’s hard for me to find certain requests. I saw someone else do an mass ask answering like this, and I LEARNED that if I tag it, I can look that tag up on my blog!

ALSO PSA you can also comment on my pics or message me to talk!!!!! I will never turn anyone away!!! I love you all!

ANOTHER PSA - if you want to not have to see this in the future, pls block the tag “shorkbrian answers a lot of asks”

Lets get ready to rumble!!!!!!!

These are in no particular order! Know that if you don’t see an ask you sent, it’s because I plan on writing something for it, probably like a lil Drabble cause those are my favorite (can you tell?)

Hello! My pronouns are They/Them or He/Him! I want to like give u a big ole hug for this question, You’re super sweet!

OOP Okay listen I’ve had a couple dreams with very unsavory happenings and each one is awful and so so scary. I hope your dream didn’t make you feel icky or anything dude. I Lub u, stay safe.

I am speechless. This is.... wow man. This is an amazing, positive review of my work and I feel so blessed and honored that you took the time to message me. I LOVE LOVE LOVE reading what people think of my work, and this one made me just like. I am like so blessed dude. Speechless (in the best way possible)

AHHHHH Thank you!!!! Look at those emojis!!!! SO bright and colorful and fun!!!!

As a fellow Hornee person that is dumb, I would like to say...... Why stop at a chefs kiss? are you afraid to kiss me on the mouth, homie? For future reference, I like tongue. (asdaslhjkah sorry I’m stupid but Thank you for these kind words!!!! What nice descriptors man, I’m like wilting under the praise its too much!)

Yes, reader is NOT going to have a fun time. Thanks for reading! I appreciate your support so so so much!!

Hey, listen! Requests are “closed” so I can have time to catch up without getting overwhelmed. If one or two slip in, they won’t get deleted :)

Bro, I recently talked to a friend with a similar experience. I’m so sorry for the things you’ve had to deal with, it sounds awful. The world is big and scary and VERY loud, and you are so amazing for navigating it. Bakugou would give you insane cuddles to help u feel better, remember dat okie?

Maybe! I’m getting around to things babey, it might take a hot second. But I will try!

Thank you! I try babey I try lol. I Lub u by the way thank u for msging me

I accept this wisdom. Thank you for sharing. I pray for a time when I will be able to use it.

You nailed it. I want this on my tombstone pls and thank u.

omg omg thank youuuuuuuu!!!!! Honestly, I think Izuku is still so so so shy, even when it comes to doing stuff with his darling.  ugh his poor darling. Ur right tho, no one would ever believe that Izuku was doing bad stuff. But once again!!! Thank YOU for reading and taking the time to send me an ask!!!! Warms my heart

wait wait okay I LOVE LOVE LOVE Kirishima I am his BIGGEST simp and this compliment? SENT ME TO OUTER SPACE. I squealed so hard I got like liftoff and I made it out of the atmosphere. This is the BEST thing EVER Thank you SO much my heart is POURING out love Grimm I would DIE for u no cap 

idk? Personally, I hate being touched so I probably would politely be like “Pls dont ahah” but I would hit him with paper airplanes with cute little notes inside.

I wish I wish with all my heart that I could turn into a small person tonight. Like, I'm crying. I am 6′0 and built like a refrigerator aint nobody able to manhandle me... *sobs in big man syndrome* I will continue to feed u tho bc it is a GIANT fantasy of mine to be manhandled and tossed around. lets goooooo

I don’t want to be a religion, can we start a cult? I’ll be the sacrifice.

bonk bonk bonk bonk bonk bonk TOO LATE (Also thank ant the comment abc my humor! Inspires me and tbh enables me)

no U 

“hey google?”

“What can I help you with today?”

“Why do I have the SWEEEEEEETEST followers ever? How did this happen? They make me blush I can’t handle it”

I have a SIMP???????? Come off anon u and I are going to talk and then passionately kiss. (not rlly but I do Lub you, thank you for the kind and gentle words)

bonk bonk bonk bonk (Also this was sent to me on a Sunday? I live in America bruv)

Pls don’t I almost peed my pants I was snorting at 2am and trying my hardest not to disturb my cat it was very hard (Repeat I almost PEED my PANST U HEATHEN)

wait stop stop u always give me such amazing comments skid I want to give u a candle made with wax and tears of love. You are so sweet. Pls never hesitate to reach out for a chat I luv u okei

BLACK HEART ANON I’m dedicating everything in my will to u, hope you know that. Okay, but seriously - I get being afraid of people. I don’t think you’re being hypocritical, I think you’re being kind and selfless and reaching out a helping hand to a loser like me. Black heart emojis low-key always make me think of you now and it fills my heart with warmth. Thank you for existing dude,

What have I said about the chefs kiss? Kiss me on the mouth u cowards. Do it.

Also this ask made me SAWFT I want to gibe u like idk a candy heart necklace to show how SOFT and Ugh demonstrate my LUB

I am glad I found YOU!!! Not everyone bothers to comment or interact or send me nice asks. They make my day man. You rock!

YYaaaayyyyaa!!! I’m cool with all the canon characters of BNHA except for Bakubro. I adore his fanon personification, but just how he acts in the show..... that aint it chief. I totally get u

TYSM!!!! Heart heart!! Aizawa has the potential to be so creepy and awful, he’s super interesting to try and write for! I’m glad you like my content, and thank you for telling me such!!!!!!!! LUB U

GRIMMM STAWWWWWWP I’m like on the verge of like melting into a PUDDLE of goopy admiration how the heck do u even know my blog ur so cool and I still can’t believe I can like.... talk to you. Ur rad dude.

BLACK HEARTTTTTTT You are never invading my privacy. Your asks are two that I hold very near and dear to my heart. I reread them over and over and they help when I’m having sucky days. Pls pls pls recognize that you’re an amazing person and you lift up my spirits and you are genuinely awesome. I love u Black Heart

I LOVE Kiri, have I mentioned? He’s my fav. And yes!!! I am VERY open to ideas!!!! Love pretty much everything and anything that comes my way!!! thank u for sending me an ask dude, means a lot :)

Sensitive anon, my dear dear friend if ur reading this know that I adore talking with u and I like hearing about ur day and You are so sweet and you make the world a better place by being in it

WE SIMP...... TOGETHER!!!!

Another beautiful baby that I always see interacting with me!!! I love you so so much and Each time your name pops up in my motifs I get so excited to see what you say!!! I’ve been holding onto this ask FOREVER because the little picture is SO CUTE and it makes me softer than melted butter man.

Okay, we’ve done it lads! I love each and every one of you!!!!!!!

#shorkbrian answers a lot of asks #love all of you #so so so much #you all make my day

[kaesaaurelia]

Whumptober 2020 Completionist Masterlist

This is all the same information as the masterpost I made at the beginning of the month, sorry followers, but if I just reblogged it again or retagged the original, it wouldn’t show up in the tags the Whumptober blog is following, so here is my masterpost again.

I wrote six Good Omens fics using the Whumptober prompts.  They are mostly Aziraphale/Crowley.  Specific warnings and tropes are listed under each storyline and individual installment.  Links to the individual themed installments on Tumblr are below the cut, as are links to the posted AO3 versions of every fic.

heavenly interrogation completed!  [ao3 link] (Aziraphale/Crowley and Michael/Ligur; mostly Crowley whump.  A lot of physical hurt/comfort and some emotional hurt/comfort.  Set in 1066.)

an agent of the adversary Day One, “Let’s Hang Out Sometime” (waking up restrained, shackled); Crowley whump.

the fun kind of hate Day Three, “My Way or the Highway” (manhandled, forced to their knees); Ligur... whump?  Explicit Michael/Ligur scene, femdom, painplay, consensual but not particularly nice relationship.

not exactly an injury Day Seven, “I’ve Got You” (enemy to caretaker); Crowley is hurt, Aziraphale comforts.  Explicit Aziraphale/Crowley scene, roleplaying/in danger of being caught.

the least dangerous game Day Seventeen, “I Did Not See That Coming” (wrongfully accused); Crowley whump.

the devil’s own luck Day Twenty, “Toto, I Have A Feeling We’re Not in Kansas Anymore” (lost, field medicine, medieval); Crowley is hurt, Aziraphale comforts.

something more serious Day Twenty-Three, “What’s a Whumpee Gotta Do to Get Some Sleep Around Here?” (exhaustion); Crowley is physically hurt and Aziraphale heals him, but also Aziraphale is worried and Crowley reassures him.  Explicit Aziraphale/Crowley scene.

2020 satanic cultists completed!  [ao3 link] (Aziraphale/Crowley; both are whumped.  Set in 2020.)

aside from the kidnapping and the satanism Day Two, “In the Hands of the Enemy” (kidnapped, collars); Aziraphale whump.  Post-Lockdown video/set in actual 2020.

i’m just here for the cult stuff Day Nine, “For the Greater Good” (ritual sacrifice); Crowley whump.

a dull knife Day Ten, “They Look So Pretty When They Bleed” (blood loss); Aziraphale whump.

as a treat Day Sixteen, “A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day” (hallucinations); mutual whump.

not himself Day Twenty-One, "I Don’t Feel So Well”; Aziraphale whump.  Implied sexual content, implied dubious consent, implied xeno, threat of vore.

overpowering urge Day Twenty-Five, “I Think I’ll Just Collapse Right Here, Thanks” (disorientation); Aziraphale whump.  Sexual content, sex pollen/dubious consent, xeno, threat of vore.

nature is healing Day Twenty-Eight, “Such Wow.  Very Normal.  Many Oops.” (accidents, hunting season); no one is really whumped but Aziraphale is worn out from his ordeal.  Allusion to sexual content and xeno, implication of sex pollen, implication of offscreen violence.

ouroboros Day Thirty-Two, “Kaesa Can Write A Little Monsterfucking, As A Treat”; no whump, just sex pollen-y xeno.  Explicit.

the tower of babel completed!  [ao3 link] (Aziraphale/Crowley; also featuring the Disposable Demons, and Nisroc, a demon OC I wrote about last Whumptober.  Female-presenting Crowley -- although she’s still called Crawly at this point.  Mostly Aziraphale whump.  Set in Biblical antiquity.)

the tower Day Four, "Running Out of Time” (collapsed building, buried alive); Aziraphale whump.  Large-scale/citywide disaster.

let us go down and there confound their language Day Five, "Where Do You Think You’re Going?” (rescue, failed escape); Aziraphale whump.  Large-scale/citywide disaster, potentially screenreader-inaccessible formatting.

charades Day Eight, "Where Did Everybody Go?” (abandoned); Aziraphale whump; grief.

deals and contracts and paperwork fiddle faddle Day Eleven, “Psych 101″ (defiance); Aziraphale whump and also Nisroc whump.  Discussion of pregnancy.

signs and symbols Day Twelve, “I Think I’ve Broken Something” (broken trust); Aziraphale whump.

fire escape Day Fourteen, “Is Something Burning?” (fire); Aziraphale whump.  Body horror, being burned alive.

blackout Day Twenty-Four, “You’re Not Making Any Sense” (blindfolded, sensory deprivation); Aziraphale whump.

hellquake Day Twenty-Seven, “OK, Who Had Natural Disasters On Their 2020 Bingo Card?” (earthquake, power outage); mutual whump, I think.

fine quality copper ingots Day Twenty-Nine, "I Think I Need A Doctor” (reluctant bedrest); mutual hurt/comfort, with a cute fluffy post-canon ending. possession completed!  [ao3 link] (Aziraphale/Crowley; also featuring Beelzebub.  Mostly Aziraphale whump; some Crowley whump.  Set post-canon.)

strange symptoms Day Six, "Please” (get it out); Aziraphale whump.  Body horror, illness, brief respiratory distress, flies.

you catch more flies with vinegar Day Thirteen, "Breathe In Breathe Out”; Aziraphale whump.  Flies, body horror, respiratory distress, vomiting.

backseat driver Day Fifteen, “Into the Unknown” (possession); Aziraphale whump.

impostor Day Eighteen, “Panic! At the Disco” (paranoia); Crowley angst.

one of the classic blunders Day Twenty-Two, “Do These Tacos Taste Funny to You?” (poisoned, drugged); Crowley whump.

how get rid of flies Day Twenty-Six, “If You Thought the Head Trauma Was Bad...”; Crowley whump.

the old beelzebub bait and switch Day Thirty, “Now Where Did That Come From?” (ignoring an injury, wound reveal); Crowley whump, happy ending.

bookends completed! (Crowley + OC friendship-and-betrayal backstory, and Satan/Crowley after the War in Heaven) here’s your shining sword and spear [ao3 link] Day Nineteen, “Broken Hearts” (grief, mourning loved one, survivor’s guilt); OC whump.  Suicide mention/allusion.

the pit is prepared, the fire is made ready [ao3 link] Day Thirty-One, “Today’s Special: Torture” (experiment); Crowley whump.  Satan/Crowley, body horror, abusive relationship.

#whumptober2020 #masterpost #completionist #good omens #aziraphale #anthony j crowley #ineffable husbands #text #fiction #kaesa op #whump