#Dawsons creek fluff

[princesslightgiggles]

Learning to be silly

It was a sunny afternoon in Capeside, and Joey and Pacey were enjoying a rare day off together. They had decided to visit the park near the creek, a place where they could relax and escape the pressures of their everyday lives. The park was quiet, with only the sound of birds chirping and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze.

They spread a blanket under a large oak tree, unpacking a picnic Joey had prepared. Pacey admired her thoughtfulness as he bit into a sandwich. He loved these moments with Joey, where everything seemed perfect and the world outside seemed to fade away.

After they finished eating, Joey lay back on the blanket, her head resting on Pacey's lap. He absentmindedly played with her hair, enjoying the peace and quiet. But Joey, had a playful glint in her eye. She had noticed something the other day when they had been fooling around in her living room and her hand accidentally brushed his ribs - Pacey was ticklish.

She had always found it hard to be truly silly with Pacey. It was something she associated more with Dawson, her childhood friend, who seemed to effortlessly bring out the lighter side of her. Pacey, with his rough upbringing and need to be seen as strong and reliable, often struggled to let go and be vulnerable. Joey wanted to change that, even if just for a moment.

"Pacey, I've been meaning to ask," Joey said, looking up at him with a mischievous smile. "Are you ticklish?"

Pacey's eyes widened slightly, a flicker of embarrassment crossing his face. "Joey, don't," he warned, his voice a mix of hesitation and apprehension.

But Joey was undeterred. She sat up, her fingers already moving towards his sides. "Come on, Pacey. It's just a bit of fun," she said, her tone playful.

Pacey tensed, his muscles tightening as her fingers made contact with his ribs. "Jo, seriously," he began, trying to maintain his composure. But Joey's fingers were relentless, and soon he was squirming, a reluctant laugh bubbling up from his chest.

"Pacey Witter, you are ticklish!" Joey declared triumphantly, her fingers dancing lightly over his ribs and sides. Pacey's laughter grew louder, his attempts to fend her off growing weaker as he gave in to the ticklish sensation.

"Okay, okay, you win!" Pacey gasped, trying to catch his breath. But Joey's curiosity was piqued, and she wasn't quite ready to stop. She moved her fingers lower, aiming for his feet.

"Not the feet, Joey, please!" Pacey begged, his voice high-pitched and desperate. But Joey couldn't resist. She gently ran her fingers over the soles of his feet, and Pacey's reaction was immediate and explosive.

He kicked reflexively, his laughter becoming frantic and uncontrollable. "Joey, no!” he cried, tears of laughter streaming down his face. His body twisted and turned, trying to escape her playful touch.

Joey paused for a moment, her eyes softening as she saw the desperation in his expression. She didn't want to push him too far. "Alright, alright," she said gently, easing her touch but not completely stopping.

She continued her gentle tickling, her fingers tracing delicate patterns over his arches and the tips of his toes. Pacey's laughter, though still desperate, took on a different quality. Amidst the unbearable ticklishness, there was a sense of fun and silliness.

Joey's eyes sparkled with affection as she watched him. "See? It’s not so bad," she whispered, her fingers slowing to a gentle caress.

Pacey took a deep breath, his laughter subsiding into soft chuckles. "You know, this seems like more of a Joey and Dawson thing," he admitted, a hint of vulnerability in his voice.

Joey’s expression softened. She reached up to stroke his cheek. "Pacey. It’s okay to let go and be silly sometimes. Especially with me."

He looked into her eyes, seeing only love and understanding. "I want to," he said quietly. "I just... don’t always know how."

Joey smiled gently. "We’ll figure it out together." She leaned in and kissed him softly, a promise in her touch.

Pacey nodded, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders. They lay back on the blanket, Joey snuggling into his side. The warmth of her presence made him feel safe, like he could truly be himself.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Joey broke the quiet. "You know, I think you’re pretty good at being silly when you want to be," she teased, poking his side playfully.

Pacey chuckled, this time without any trace of embarrassment. "Well, I do have my moments," he replied, wrapping his arms around her.

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the park, talking, laughing, and enjoying each other’s company. As the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, Pacey realised that with Joey, he could be both strong and silly, serious and playful. She accepted him in all his facets, and that made all the difference.

Back on the blanket, Joey sat up and stretched, looking at Pacey with a tender smile. "Ready to head back?"

Pacey nodded, getting to his feet and offering her a hand. "Yeah, let’s go home."

As they walked hand in hand, leaving the park behind, Pacey felt a renewed sense of hope. With Joey by his side, he knew he could face anything, embrace every part of himself, and find joy in the silliest of moments. And that, he realised, was what love was all about.

[artyandink]

dreamy poker faces | masterlist

SUMMARY: CJ’s trying to keep a big secret from you. And Bella, and Uncle Bill, and CJ’s mom, your mom, your dads are in their own dreamland, and you’re confused. It’s Christmas holidays, spirits are high, and yet everyone’s poker faces seem to be on. While CJ’s keeps slipping. He can’t hide the secret much longer, can he?

A/N: The titles are fragments of lyrics from That Part by Lauren Spencer Smith!

TW: Fluff, smut, crack, just families being chaotic at Christmas so don’t mind them, like literally tooth rotting fluff, CJ being an idiot, CJ being excited, Bill being Bill, Bella’s the best wingwoman and best friend ever, mentions of CJ’s sobriety, getting drunk off eggnog cause why not, over the top moms

STW: Soft sex, passionate sex, protected sex (wrap it before goddamn tapping it), riding, missionary, marking, giggly moments, aftercare, oral (m. and f. receiving), fingering, brief handjob, temperature play if you squint, switch CJ, switch reader, switches all around, aftercare (do your aftercare guys), almost shower sex (you’ll get what I mean)

SOUNDTRACK

Song Inspo: That Part by Lauren Spencer Smith and Lover (Remix) by Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran

𝗗𝗮𝘆 #𝟭: Two IKEA Twin Beds

𝗗𝗮𝘆 #𝟮: Take Your Name

𝗗𝗮𝘆 #𝟯: Wishin’ On Elevens

𝗗𝗮𝘆 #𝟰: Can We Just Skip To That Part

©️ 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐤 / 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐝/𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝

TAGLIST: @goldngguk @sweetpeachbombshell @slut-for-stiles @staple-your-mouth @daddyscrimsstuff

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@cheynovak

[sockiess]

PACEY WITTER COMFORTTT winter style like something chilly and cozy if u feel my vibe

I just know Soph has been waiting for me to write about Pacey🫶

To Leave the Warmest Bed I’ve Ever Known

warnings: fluff and small angst with comfort

The. best. Holiday. Ever. is all you could think about as you and Pacey visited a small cabin in a small town in Washington. Even though it rained 6 out of the 8 days you were staying and it was snowing, you still felt the warmest you ever had in your life.

You felt a hint of sadness overcome you as you think about the fact that this is the last night you would be here. Just you and Pacey, no friends or parents to impress. You stare at the fire place that Pacey lit earlier to warn you up.

Pacey had gone into town to rent a dvd and get some snacks as you were going to spend your last night here snuggled up together on the warm couch.

You turned your head to the door as you heard it open. The smile on your face could be described as being as big as the universe when Pacey walked through the door. “Jesus it’s freezing” Pacey said smiling up at you, the movies and snacks in a plastic sack in his hands. You almost slipped on the floor running to him in your socks. “Don’t go tripping on me now” Pacey softly laughed

You snuggled your head into his chest and breathed in his scent. You didn’t want to let him go. You didn’t want to go back to Capeside and deal with difficult parents and friends who are always arguing, you just wanted to stay here with Pacey.

You didn’t realize that you had been standing there and hugging him for almost 5 minutes until he softly pulled you away. “What’s wrong?” He asked softly, tucking loose strands of hair behind your ears. “Nothings wrong” You reply smiling, but you should’ve known that Pacey would’ve seen through it, he knows you better than anyone. “Something is wrong” Pacey said as he led you to the couch and sat you down on his lap softly. “I’m just cold” you whispered as you hugged him again and snuggled your face into his neck.

“well we can’t have that now can we?” Pacey whispered back to you as he laid you both down on the couch. You felt him reach down and then a soft blanket covering you both. Pacey softly rubbed your back and scratched your head. “What movie did you rent?” You asked him as you looked up at him. “The best Christmas movie known to man kind” He said smiling. “The Christmas Story” you both replied at the same time. You both softly laughed. “Jinx you owe me a coke” You joked. “I’ll buy you all the cokes in the world” Pacey said before kissing your forehead. You smiled as you snuggled back into him, enjoying the warmth and comfort he offered

“If I ask you what’s wrong again are you gonna tell me the truth?” Pacey asked softly. You looked up at him before cupping his cheek, “I don’t want to leave” you said softly. Pacey looked at you knowing there was more you wanted to say. “There is so much drama back at Capeside with our parents and friends, but here it’s just me and you and it’s the most comfortable I’ve felt in a while. I don’t have to impress anyone or mediate an argument. I just get to be with you and feel safe and comfortable.” By the end of your talk you felt a small tear run down your cheek, if you where around anyone else you would have felt pathetic for crying over something like this, but with Pacey you knew he wouldn’t judge you for crying and he would even understand.

He softly wiped your tears away from your cheeks before sitting up to softly kiss your forehead. “There will still be us” he whispered before pulling you closer to him. “I won’t let them drag you into their shit anymore I promise.” He whispered sincerely before softly kissing you. “It’s you and me. it’s always has been and always going to be” he said before kissing you again. “I love you pacey” you said softly. “I love you too” he replied. “Now let’s watch The Christmas Story and eat all the snacks our body will let us handle” Pacey said getting up to pop in the dvd and spill all the snacks out on the coffee table.

You felt better knowing that even though you where going to have to face the world again, you where going to have him by your side.

this is the first fic i’ve written since July and the first fic i’ve written about Pacey Witter, so please forgive me if it isn’t the best😔💔

i would say to let me know if you want anything changed but i’m sure Soph will just text me LMAO

anyways everyone say “THANK YOU SOPH”

[emily-in-crisis]

I'm losing followers. damn. I really let the gays down when I stopped posting about the l word

[gay-dorito-dust]

Maybe some fluff with Hobie when the main trop is that they are soulmates?

I honestly had no idea where I was going with this, it’s all over the place.

What’s a soulmate?

It’s a…it’s like a best friend but more.

It’s the one person who knows you better then anyone else, it’s someone who makes you a better person. Actually they don’t make you a better person, you do that yourself, because they inspire you.

A soulmate Is someone who you can carry with you forever. It’s the one person who knew you and accepted you, believed in you before anybody else did. Or when no one else would, and no matter what happens you will always love them; Nothing can ever change that. - Dawson’s Creek (never watched it but have heard the ‘what’s a soulmate?’ Clip more times then I can count.’

The term soulmates had been so firmly interchangeable with romantic connotations that many often forget that being soulmates with someone doesn’t necessarily mean that it was remotely romantic in the first place.

You can be soulmates with that one friend who’s stood by you through thick and thin, a family member, or a co-worker that you get along with very well, so much so that you might as well be the same person.

With that out of the way, let’s move onto yours and Hobie’s relationship.

To begin with, you and Hobie both thought that the idea of soulmates wasn’t something you’d fully put your faith into as to believe that you and someone else were tethered to one another, expected to love one another against your better judgment.

What if your soulmate was a twat? A down right godawful human being? What then? Are you still expected to love them even though everything they’ve ever done was morally and ethically wrong?

Fanfics, romance books and movies never bother to divulge into these topics, which is why you never truly trusted the so called ‘fairy tale ending.’

Soulmates didn’t exist, and even if they did, in what right mind would you have in ever wanting one?

‘What would you do if you found out you had a soulmate?’ You remember telling Hobie one day as you were both hanging out on a rooftop somewhere just a little ways of the pub you always relegated to at the weekends, or whenever Hobie and his band had a gig there.

‘I’d tell them that they’re full of shit and shouldn’t be believing in fairy tales, for they’ll always lie to you.’ Hobie replied, looking over at you from over his beloved guitar that he was previously tuning before laying it carefully down by his side. His actions made you chuckle as you sat up to stretch your arms over your head, grunting. ‘yeah, if you ever had a soulmate it’d be your damn guitar with how careful you are with it.’

Hobie gives you a good shove in the arm, ‘oh fuck off, what about you then?’

‘Hmm?’ You hummed.

‘What would you do if you found your soulmate?’ He echoed your question and for the first time, you didn’t know how to respond because if you had it your way, you’d would’ve wanted Hobie as your soulmate because in your eyes there was no one better then Hobie Brown. For Hobie was the best friend that always believed in you when you and seemingly everybody else you have ever met in your life have long since given up on you. But not Hobie, never Hobie.

Even during the times where you wanted him to leave you alone, he would always come back a good hour or two after with your favourite snacks in tow before he sits himself down next to you and offer to listen to what’s been eating away at you. When asked why, Hobie would look at you as though you grew a second head -even though you were quite certain in your friendship that Hobie wouldn’t give two shits if you were to grow a second head- before responding with; ‘you’re my mate and I need to be on the look out for you, even if you don’t want me to, I will, because there ain’t no way I’m letting you sit this one out on your own; we’re sitting out problems out together from now on.’ Hobie then proceeds to tuck you tightly into his side. ‘So don’t go hiding shit form me from now on, yeah?’

From then on you never once hide anything from Hobie; until one morning you found a tattoo or a marking of sorts in the shape of a electric guitar just on the inside of your wrist; Now this wasn’t just any old guitar, you knew the shape and model of the guitar like the back of your hand and from that morning onwards, you had been keeping your soulmate tattoo/mark covered by wearing long sleeved shirts or hoodies because you know if you were to conceal it in any other way and Hobie caught wind. You’d be fucked on a multitude of levels.

What you didn’t know what that Hobie was in the same predicament as you in regards of having a random tattoo/mark he doesn’t remember getting suddenly appearing on his body. He knew what it meant the moment he saw it, and ever since he’s been trying to find a seamless way to integrate it into a conversation with you that wouldn’t seem too out of left field. Hobie knows he’s a confident bloke but to drop this type of thing on you unexpectedly as though it was nothing, wasn’t the way he wanted to go about things you both adamantly shitted on previously.

Hobie also has a sneaking suspicion that this was why you had brought up the topic of soulmates when you did; because you also had a mark of your own. Ever since you’ve both been tucked away on the rooftop, he’s noticed how every so often you would subconsciously pull down the fabric of your hoodie/long sleeved shirt as though you were trying to hide something. but even with all your attempts of hiding your Mark, Hobie could often sometimes see glimpses of the neck of the guitar practically wink at him knowingly.

‘I dunno,’ you shrugged, ‘what can I do in that situation? I can’t say that I love them because I’m fated to them-‘

‘Why not?’ Hobie interjected.

You shrug again, ‘I want to at least get to know the person outside of the whole being my soulmate before I start saying anything in regards to liking them, never mind loving them.’ Once again Hobie caught you pulling down the fabric of your sleeve out of the corner of his eye before casting his eyes back to you.

‘What if your soulmate is closer then you thought?’ He asked as you furrowed your brows as you looked at him as a weird feeling befell you. It felt as though Hobie knew something you didn’t and your hand immediately went to your covered wrist, feeling over exposed all of a sudden as a flurry of thoughts rushed to the forefront of your mind all at once, overwhelming you to the point where it became hard to not only swallow but breath as well.

Hobie knew

He knew

Were the only thoughts that stuck out to you in that moment and in that moment, you honestly didn’t know what to do now that you were caught. You cursed yourself for not knowing any better as Hobie was as smart as they came but before you could start running your mouth with excuses, Hobie lifted one of his spiked cuffs slightly up his arm to show you his tattoo/mark.

However a question still remained unanswered; where do you go from here now that you found out that your best friend was your soulmate?

[snowbellewells]

1-6, 22, 42&43, and finally 50 for the Fanfic Authors Game. Thank you, ma’am!!

Oh Krystal @kmomof4 this took me a minute, but I'm so glad you sent asks - I haven't done any ask games for a while, and I always find them fun. Thanks for your interest (and I'll be sending some back your way! ;p)

1- What was your first fic and could you stand to reread it today?

My first fic was probably a PaceyxJoey revamp/divergence of the Dawson's Creek Season 1 finale. I had only recently even discovered that fanfiction existed, and everyone else I knew was convinced that I was crazy for thinking Pacey and Joey had the romantic chemistry rather than Dawson and Joey. Anyway, the fic was largely a way for me to vent my frustration and play out my vision of things. I'm not even sure there is still an existing copy of it today there, whether I would want to read it or not!

2 - What's your most recent fic and how far do you think you've come?

My most recent fic is my second entry for the @cssns24 event "For All Life and For All Time" (a Dracula AU). I'd really like to think that I've come a fair way in dramatic and atmospheric writing, as well as just writing a cute little love story for smiles. Though there is nothing wrong with fluff, I've been labeled as sweet for quite some time, so trying to add a bit more edge or danger and darkness to my works is a continual growing process, and one that I hope shows in this newest one as I go along.

3 - In your opinion, what's your best fic?

Goodness, I feel like that is a really hard question, K! I don't tend to feel like I really have a "best of" the way some of my favorite writers do. (For some reason it feels presumptuous when speaking of my own work) I do have ones I am more attached to or was more emotionally invested in writing, but I don't know if that makes them the "best" or not. I guess I might say "Tasting Forever" if pressed. It had such an incredible response when I first posted it - so far beyond what I had expected, and I am pretty proud of it when I look back at it.

4 - In your opinion and without looking at any numbers, what's your most popular fic?

Without looking to make sure, I would say probably "Tasting Forever" (see above) is one of the most popular, if not the most. It was at one time, at any rate. Before that one was written/posted, it was probably the two part "Under the Weather" which I wrote around the season three timeframe in the show, and was basically an excuse to have Emma take care of a sick Killian and hurry up and admit her feelings as well. The only other contender would be my first true CS/OuaT MC "I'd Know You Anywhere" which had Emma as a witness to a murder and Killian and Ruby as FBI agent partners assigned to protect her and Henry.

5 - Is there any fic that makes you super happy to reread and remember you wrote that?

I realize that this fic is incredibly niche and not many will ever read it, because it is not strictly CS (though they are supporting characters) and it's not even about a popular side pairing, but my BellexLiam short MC "Looking for a Heart (that's not Walking Away)" is one that I still read and smile about. I had a lot of fun imagining how I should characterize both Belle and Liam more fully and with the storyline itself. I am still really pleased with how it turned out and it's close to my heart, and the ending makes me grin happily whenever I reread it. I love it even more since @hollyethecurious created cover art for it as well.

I also feel that way about "A Year in the Court of Misthaven" (especially the first chapter with the Yule Ball) It just makes me grin imagining it. :)

6 - Is there any fic that makes you super embarrassed to reread and remember you wrote that?

Weirdly, since it's one of my more popular fics with other people, I have some embarrassment over "I'd Know You Anywhere". There are parts of it that I like and feel as though they turned out quite well, but there are also parts that seem rushed to me in hindsight, or plot holes, anomalies, and deadends that don't make sense. Maybe I'm being overly self-critical, but I feel like I could do a better job of it now than I did then.

22- Has there ever been anyone who's made you freak out because they read your work and followed/favorited/reviewed?

Oh yes, for sure! I won't try to list too many specific names, because I feel like I'd be bound to leave someone out, and I wouldn't want anyone to feel like their kind words and love weren't appreciated. Every single reblog, like, or comment is such a boost and huge compliment to me!! I will say though, that whenever someone 2who I regularly read and whose writing I admire takes the time to read something of mine, I am incredibly gratified and flattered.

And I doubt anyone who has received them would deny that your (yes, you, K!) real-time flails as you read are some of the best mood lifters and ego boosters in the world!!

42- How many views has your most popular fic gotten?

I'm going to guess this means on AO3? Are "Hits" the same thing as "Views"? Since that seems the most likely, that's what I'm going with here - Hits on AO3, in which case the one with the most is "A Cottage by the Sea" with 1,767 hits.

43 - Your least popular?

That would be my Ruby-centric OuaT one shot "Always Running" with just 46 hits (or views?)

50 - Has writing fanfic had a significant impact on your life? Would you say it's entirely positive?

Other than the amount of stress I put on myself when I can't update as quickly as I like or fear people may not like my newest post or addition, yes, I would say fanfic has been almost an entirely positive experience.

It's had a huge impact on me: it's kept me writing even as I've become an adult and had to get a "real job" to pay the bills. It's kept alive a show I adored, even though it's been off the air for someone six or seven years. Most of all, it has brought me some of the best friends in fellow fic writers that I have ever had! That last one in itself is one of the most incredible blessings I could imagine!!

[princesslightgiggles]

Masterlist - Dawson’s Creek

A not-so-peaceful pedicure

Lacey follow an upset Joey to her pedicure to apologise but isn’t prepared for the foot file…..

Learning to be silly

Joey is determined that Pacey be less self-conscious and just enjoy being silly….

Letting go

Joey helps Pacey let go of the past…

[suzyq31]

Thanks for the tag @kay-elle-cee! I feel like such an imposter lately since I can't seem to bring myself to write lately, at least outside of journaling.

AO3 Username: Elastic_Heart31

1. How many works do you have on A03? 15, but 2 more are hidden for now.

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? 765,116

3. What fandoms do you write for? So far just Harry Potter. If I was braver I would write the Before Sunrise idea I have or attempt to write a fleabag fanfic. I'm also experimenting with more original writing.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

Maybe Tomorrow

Iris

It Had To Be You

Found (though currently hidden)

In Between (also hidden 😅)

Those are all Harmony, but my top Jily fic is:

At The Beginning

5. Do you respond to comments? I try my best with my ADHD brain. I truly appreciate when people take the time to let me know their thoughts.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Hmm. Not sure since some haven't ended some of them yet. Maybe Plans? Since we know what happens in canon.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Probably It Had To Be You with it's two part epilogue of fluff.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Sigh. Yes. One of the many reasons I've lost my enthusiasm for writing Harry and Hermione fanfics.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes, though often against my better judgement haha. I have no idea what to classify it as. Maybe I'll borrow Kelsey's word and say vanilla.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Nope!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not sure.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Maybe? I've had people ask, but unsure if they are posted.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes, hopefully will get back to it someday!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Hmmm I've had so many over the years. The only ones I've attempted to write though have been Harmony and Jily. They've also been consistent since childhood.

Special shout out to my teenage love of Pacey and Joey from Dawson's Creek, even though adult me thinks he deserves better and that show is terrible.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? At this point it feels like all of them 🙈

16. What are your writing strengths? No clue. I've been told I write emotion well. I've also been complimented on my ability to write children realistically.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Probably grammar and sentence structure, I still feel lost a lot of the time when it comes to all of that. I earned to write in English after learning French though it's my native language, and I see how it still impacts me. Also, I tend to be the worst with over writing and then having to edit the hell out everything!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

If it makes sense in the story. I've seen it work well in a lot of literary books I've read. And one scene in particular from UaS (if you know, you know).

19. First fandom you wrote for? Harry Potter. One and only (so far).

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Hmm I'm probably proudest of Maybe Tomorrow. It's one that feels personal in ways that are hard to explain. I also think I grew a lot as a writer while working on it.

In terms of Jily, I've really enjoyed my drabbles that aren't on archive. I do hope to expand on some of them someday.

Tagging: @myst867 @annonymouslyblonde @cordovabox @nodirectionhome-ao3 @glitterwitch1

Also if you feel like joining considering yourself tagged!

[zepskies]

Hey, sorry if I spell something wrong, English isn't my first language, but then, I don't know if you're taking requests, but I need to ask if you can do something with CJ, something like smut, I'm dying for anything from him and I can't find anything, so I wanted to ask if you could do it please, sorry for the inconvenience

Why hello there!

No worries, your English is great. 😉 And as a matter of fact, I'm working on a little story for CJ Braxton. It's not smut exactly, but it is fluff with a tinge of spice. ❤️‍🔥

My new masterlist post for that character is coming soon, and I've already updated my Tag List form to include CJ from Dawson's Creek, for those who want to get tagged on future stories.

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Nineteen (Part 2)

When I trudge out into the clinic waiting room the following weekend, Claire shoves her phone into her handbag and stands up to catch me in her arms as I fall into her for a hug. “That was rotten.” I groan. 

“Did it hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Oh dear, is it still sore?”

I don’t answer, I just make a pitiful sound into her shoulder as my womb twinges with pains that I thought were limited only to the very worst and most cursed days of my periods, but the doctor told me it’s normal to experience it as my body adjusts to the IUD. This new, strange alien body will be part of me now for five years, a tiny T shaped piece of plastic that hardly looked capable of wreaking so much havoc on my innocent body when I obsessively googled photographs of it in the moments before the procedure. 

“It feels fucking horrible.” I complain. 

“I’m sorry, babes.”

“And it was a man.”

“Oh no!”

“He told me that I reminded him of Natalie Portman when he was digging around indiscriminately in my cervix.”

“They shouldn’t let any men near our vaginas.” She declares, and I grunt in agreement, a pathetic sound, muffled by the polyester of her pink puffer coat. Smoothing down the back of my hair she wonders, “Is there anything that’d make you feel better? We can stop by Big Tesco and get loads of snacks for you.”

“I’d like that a lot.”

And that’s what we do, even though I’m the one that has to drive us there because Claire still hasn’t applied for her licence, but she lets me wait in the car and rest while she does the mad dash around the supermarket as a consolation. She emerges with a heaping bag of far too much, but that’s what I like about Claire. Everything she does, she does all the way, to excess. She does nothing with reserve or restraint. It’s everything, all of the time, and it fills me with immense joy to see this shopping bag, Pringles and Kinder chocolate and big packets of chocolate biscuits poking out the top of it, promising me unlimited indulgence until the button on my jeans pops off and I am lying in a heaping mound of crumpled wrappers. 

At home she makes me some tea and settles me on the sofa in a pair of her impossibly fluffy slippers with the TV playing Dawson’s Creek while she goes upstairs to pack a huge bag for her weekend down the end of the road at Shane’s house. She makes sure I have enough of everything, painkillers, hot water bottles, blankets and fuzzy socks, and when she’s satisfied with my state of being and has ensured that I’m nestled perfectly in a cloud of fluff she waves goodbye to me at the door and tells me that if I need anything I can just text her and she’ll be right over. 

“What would I ever do without you?” I say. 

“You’d survive, babe.”

At eight o’clock that evening, Jude swings by after his nightly visit with Jen, who is now recovering at Michelle’s. He makes a ridiculous face when he sees me cocooned on the sofa, his bottom lip jutted out and his forehead crinkled up in almost theatrical sympathy. I note his extremely expressive eyebrows. He leaves his coat on a hook and comes over to deliver three quick kisses to the crown of my head. “Poor Evie.” He says, and he cups my cheeks in his hands as I look up at him with eyes that I know are big and soft and begging for reassurance, but I suddenly feel as though I’ve never yearned for something so badly as his sympathy. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Still sore.” I say. 

“I can’t imagine, but it looks like Claire has you taken care of.”

“She’s my guardian angel.”

“Good with this kind of thing, isn’t she?” 

I lift a hand to run it through his dark hair. “I missed you.”

“I know, it’s been hectic.” He drops to his knees on the floor in front of me, still holding my face and kisses me gently, lips brushing against mine until I feel formless and soft, but I have to pull back when he starts trying to incorporate some steamy tongue action. “No,” I say weakly. “Don’t try and get that going with me, I’m too feeble.”

“Ah, sorry, I got carried away.” He sits on the floor by my feet so that I can have the whole couch to myself, but he holds my foot in his lap and rests his back against my knees.

“How’s Jen doing?”

“Not as badly as you, apparently. I didn’t know that getting an IUD put in was such a brutal procedure.”

I snicker. “I get it, you think I’m playing it up for sympathy.”

“I don’t think that, I wouldn’t know,” He turns around so he can flash me a grin. “But you know, Jen has a shattered thigh bone and nerve damage and only one of you is sitting around cocooned in fluffy blankets and surrounded by half-eaten chocolate.”

I scoff. “Did I not tell you about the doctor saying I look like Natalie Portman right into my vagina?”

“You did.”

“What do you think about that?”

“He’s right a bit, no? I’ve thought that before actually.”

I bat him lightly across the back of the skull, and after he flinches he twists around to pepper my knees with apologetic kisses because they’re the only part of me that he can reach. “I’m sorry. I genuinely do feel bad for you, and I know that you must be really sore, and I’ve just burst into your apartment and started making fun of you.”

I sigh, “Maybe I am leaning into it a bit. I just like sitting around having an excuse to do nothing, to be honest. Do you think I’ve Munchausen’s?”

“Yeah.” 

“How’s your thesis?”

A grimace. “Coming. Let’s not talk about college for now, I feel up to my neck in it all. It’s nice to just get out of the house for a night. I want to do nothing too.”

“Well I was watching Dawson’s Creek if you feel like jumping in.”

“Is this the show about the teenagers with the insane vocabulary?”

“Exactly,” I snicker. “Do you want me to catch you up?”

“Yeah, yeah, please. Tell me everything that’s happening.” He adjusts himself so that he can lay his head on my thigh, and listens intently as I tell him everything, about Joey and Dawson and Pacey, Andi, Jen and Jack and everybody in between, and then we watch it together in comfortable silence until I’m sleepy enough to hit the bed. 

“You don’t have to go.” I tell him as he makes moves towards his Carhartt coat, and when he turns to me I can tell that he’s trying hard not to be too eager about the possibility of sharing a bed again. “If you want me to stay and keep you company, I can.” He says, and we are whispering. I don’t really know why, but I suppose it’s late, and something about the night makes it feel involuntary. 

“I’d like that if you would.”

“Well, of course.” 

“I don’t have a toothbrush for you.”

“That’s okay, I’ll use yours,” he breaks into a smile at my expression. “I’m joking, obviously I wouldn’t do that. Unless you really didn’t mind.”

“Would you actually do that if I let you?”

He considers this. “Maybe.”

I shake my head and start heading upstairs. “You’re sick, Jude. Sometimes I’m concerned about you.”

He follows. “It’s not really that sick, I’ve already invested serious hours into the inside of your mouth, how much worse could it be if we shared a toothbrush?”

“Because a toothbrush is full of the dirt and plaque someone has scraped off their teeth and gums, I can’t imagine voluntarily putting that into my mouth.”

He shrugs. “It’s a bit gross but, like, I don’t find the idea of it totally repulsive.”

“Well you can use your finger.” I lead him into the bathroom where he immediately pretends to grab my toothbrush from the cup by the sink. “You think you’re so cute.” I say accusingly, even though I’m really the one who thinks that, and as we brush our teeth next to each other I admire the way that we look together, and how I wouldn’t complain if I could see us like this, doing something ordinary together in a bathroom mirror forever and ever. 

“Nice room, Evie,” He says when we go inside, and I realise that it’s the first time that he’s seen it.

“Sorry about the clothes on the floor.”

“I don’t care about that. I like all of your things,” He saunters over to my easel in the corner, where there’s a half-finished pencil drawing. “This is lovely.”

I feel obliged to deny it. “It’s not.”

“Yeah, you’re right, it’s rotten,” He throws his eyes skyward. “I feel a bit sick looking at it actually, can we face this thing away from your bed when we’re trying to sleep?”

I laugh, and then immediately get a new twinge of pain in my womb, prompting me to clutch my stomach and tumble back onto the mattress with a self-sympathetic groan. “Stop.”

“Stop telling funny jokes?”

I make another noise, not unlike an injured animal and his face comes into frame above me. “Baby,” He says, and another, more fluttery feeling joins the ache inside me. “Do you want me to get you anything?”

“My hot water bottle.”

“Okay.”

“Can you fill it up again so it’s nice and hot?”

His mouth twitches up. “Yeah, of course.”

“Do you think I’m being a bad patient?”

“I do.” He dots my nose with a kiss. “But it’s alright, I’d probably be worse if it was me.”

When he goes downstairs to heat up the water I swiftly change into my pyjamas and crawl under the covers, switching on the bedside lamp and snuggling in with the duvet pulled all the way up to my chin. He comes back after a short while and passes the hot water bottle to me, and then I ogle him wholly un-subtly as he undresses down to his t-shirt and underwear and slots into the bed next to me. “All good?”

“Mhm.”

“Poor Evie,” He says, and makes a little clucking sound that makes me giggle. “You’re so soft. I didn’t think that you were a softie, you know that? I used to think you were a dark, mysterious, dangerous man.”

“I am a dangerous man.”

“Yeah, right.”

He gets up on his elbow to look down at me. “I still make you a bit nervous though, don’t I?” and he bites his lip, which sends a shiver right through me. I don’t know how he can do that, turn a moment of lighthearted banter and fun into something that feels immediately sexy and forbidden. My mind immediately goes to the last night we spent in the same bed, and though I could hardly see him then, I can imagine that he had that same look on his face then as he does now. 

“Do I make you nervous?” I ask, and he nods. “Yes,” and falls back on the pillow to stare up at the ceiling. I jolt when I feel his hand snake towards me beneath the covers, but he only wants to rest it on the hot water bottle that covers my stomach. “Did you do this because of me?” He wonders. “Like, the whole IUD thing. Was that for me?”

I feel awkward. “Maybe. I also, like, on Friday I got tested too.”

“Tested?”

“At the sexual health clinic. For STIs.”

“Oh, I should probably do that too,” He says. “Good idea. You’re prepared.”

“Should I not be?” I say anxiously. “I just thought that you were supposed to do that, maybe it’s not something we should even talk about, I don’t know, I just don’t want you to think that-”

“No, it’s fine!” He says. “You’re being smart and mature, we should have discussed this ages ago, I’m just- well, I’m glad that you’ve been thinking about it and you want it because I-”

“I definitely do. I know that we haven’t really addressed it much but I had the best time at your holiday house.”

“You did?”

“Yes, and I wanted to do it again, I just felt-”

“Nervous, yeah, me too.”

“I didn’t think that you got nervous about those things.”

“Of course I do.”

My hand lays on top of his. “Are you still?”

“Yeah, obviously. I still want you to like me afterwards, I don’t want you to freak out or not find it that enjoyable, I dunno. Of course I’m a bit apprehensive.”

I smile. “Well I think that���s nice.”

“All of that stuff,” He says after a minute. “The test, and the IUD, was it expensive? Because I feel like if I’m the reason that you did those things then I should pay you back for it.”

“No, it was free,” I say. “I have the medical card.”

“Oh. Well I would have paid, it that counts.”

“It does. That’s actually mad nice of you.”

“Sure.”

We say nothing for ages then, and I flick off the light as soon as I think he might be falling asleep, and he turns over to his side and curls his arm over me. “Goodnight, Evie,” He murmurs, and then I have a new thought. “Cyprus,” I whisper. “I never told you about Cyprus.”

“The island?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you have some facts about it that you wanted to share, or…”

“No. Would you want to go?”

“When?”

“Easter. To Claire’s holiday home. She and Shane are going.”

A pause. “But my thesis.”

“You have three weeks to really buckle down, right? And if you’re not finished you could bring your laptop with you, do you think?”

“Yeah, maybe, I just really have to get it done because I’m going back to Berlin to finish my studio work for the whole of May, and-”

“I know, and if you don’t want to come then-”

“No, no, I do, I really do. I’ll figure it out.”

“I think it’ll be really nice.”

“Yeah, it will. A bit of sunshine won’t hurt.”

“Exactly.”

“Picture it, Evie,” He says sleepily. “You’ll be swimming in the sea again, your favourite place to be.”

“And you’ll be with me.” I reply, and then think about that, and the warmth of the sun on our skin and the delicate breeze in our hair until I drift away into the most peaceful sleep with a smile on my face. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[willowbee-brook]

In my affinity for 90's sitcoms/dramas I decided to give Dawson's Creek a chance. Currently 5 Episodes in.

Some things I have a Whole Lotta Questions about:

*Am I supposed to be rooting for the pedophile/statutory rape "relationship"?

*A cop holds a gun to his younger brother's head and tells him to admit that the cop is not gay, just really into musicals?

*Is the main charater's personality just Steven Spielburg?

*Why did they do Joshua Jackson dirty with that haircut?

*The female characters were definitely written by a dude.

*What is this acting?

*Do I like it or am I doing this out of morbid curiosity? Was this actually a good show or is it like "7th Heaven" where we pretend it didn't happen?

People of Tumblr, did you watch this show when it aired in '99? Is it a cult classic?

[nevsluvr]

* ･ ﾟ𖡼 ︎ִֶָ⁀➷ 𝗣.𝗪. 𝗠𝗢𝗢𝗗𝗕𝗢𝗔𝗥𝗗

[spaceskam]

If I could watch dawson's creek, but with all of dawson's scenes cut out, I'd be so much happier

[mazeinthemiroh]

lee felix boyfriend headcanons

genre: fluff

word count: 0.7k

warnings: none

requested?: yes

song rec: dandelions by ruth b.

please like and reblog if you enjoyed! feel free to request anything <3

felix. lee felix. yongbok. yongbokkie. lixie. lixie the pixie

there is no one ☝️ that makes my heart melt quite like felix does

he is the softest little angel in the whole wide world

he is so utterly, hopeless, indubitably, unequivocally (can you tell i watched dawsons creek?) in love with you. he has literal stars in his eyes when he is with you. there is no denying his love for you at all

as a boyfriend, he is so selfless. he will totally take care of your wants and needs. all you have to do is ask him and he will be happy to help you

felix is super into gift giving. it's like an addiction at this point?? he can't help it. if he sees something hella cute that reminds him of you, he's going to buy it. expect a lot of jewellery, plushies, chocolate, adorable little gadgets and many other things as gifts. he tries not to give you too many stuff as regularly cos he doesn't want to overwhelm you, and also he wants each gift to be special

being in a relationship with him basically means you will always have a companion. he wants to make sure you are never lonely when you go out and do stuff (unless you actually want to be by yourself of course.) he for one really appreciates other people's company, but now, having a special person in his life to just share and experience everything with, even the simple things, would mean the world to him

hes into pda. like, he doesn't mind the members or other people seeing you guys be cute together, and he lowkey wants people to know you are his and he is yours <3

loves sending you memes and tiktoks to watch. it's a nice pass time for him when he is not with you. scrolling through tiktok and seeing a video that reminds him of you, he would smile to himself and send it to you. half of the videos would be extra cute, like dog or cat videos, or clips of aesthetic couples doing cute things with him saying 'this is us :)'. and the other half will be full crack meme videos, just so so random it's hilarious

also keeps you updated with his life. just because he isn't with you all the time you best believe you will still know his schedule inside and out, and know exactly what he did that do. last april on the friday of the first week? oh yeah, felix had dance practice in the morning, an interview in the afternoon and he had ramen for lunch. yep, you know that. he also wants to hear what you are up to. he just loves staying connected and feels like he's not missing out, he wants to reassure you that he cares and is always thinking of you

so cuddly :( he always jumps at the chance to pull you as close to him as possible. he just loves that close contact and it makes him feel soft and fluffy inside

when he is not smothering you with cuddles, he is pretty much always holding your hand. i'm talking constantly. in his mind, he has to be touching you in some way, so hand holding is his go-to because he can do it in any situation! he just likes keeping his hands occupied and playing with your fingers

dates with him would include:

baking dates - obviously?? like... maybe i'm predictable, but still???? he would live to bake with you, especially if you like baking too! he likes when you ask for his help with stuff and he will also love it if you exchange brownie recipes!

bubble tea dates - you both have a love for bubble tea!! so every time you two a free and want to meet up, you guys usually get bubble tea together. each date you have, he will get a different flavour to try!

bike rides - he just loves the idea of being outside with you and being active! idk he thinks the idea of it sounds cute so you guys will do it every now and then (will probably stop for some ice cream later on)

pls protect this man forever

[overlydramaticinephile]

There's an us now.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader (no physical descriptions, BUT reader is Robin's best friend which is major plot point)

Summary: Steve and Y/N start to develop feelings for each other yet there are a few obstacles they are scared of dealing with (again, i'm the worst at summarys)

Word count: 4.1k (eye- she's a long one)

Warnings: Enemies to lovers kind of trope, pretty much a teen movie vibe, angsty?? agruments, douchey behaviour, fluff in there. Some curse words. (English is NOT my first language)

A/N: Hi! So, I've been working on this for a few weeks but idk how good it is. My work is never proof read....so....should probably warn that too. Anyway i'm posting it bc still in my “based on Pacey Witter” era…so yeah- hope you guys enjoy! <3 thank you so much for reading my other fics inspired by the dawson's creek show too!

READ PART 2 HERE

Ever have one of those days you wish you could live all over again?

Well, it all started a couple of weeks ago...

Y/N found a pay phone and called Steve after a failed night out. But I should probably tell you why she called Steve or better yet, how she met Steve.

Y/N has been Robin's best friend since they were five years old. It is your classic "I hope our kids become best friends" type of story. And of course, they did. Y/N was always the quiet kid in school; until she met hyper little Robin. It pretty much started with a simple "Wanna come play with me? I brought my new pet rocks!" and well, how could Y/N say no to that? From that moment on it was them against the world. Sure, they only had each other but that was more than enough.

And let's remember that nothing ever came between them, I mean, the way they love one another is something anyone should be jealous of. And when Robin was understanding her identity and felt scared about her own feelings and how others would react, she never hesitated to tell Y/N about them, she knew she would never judge her and that there wasn't anything they wouldn't do for each other. They were family after all.

But then came the year 1985.

Y/N and Robin were supposed to get summer jobs so they could save up for college and move in together. It has been their dream since they were twelve. Them against the artsy city of New York. Therefore, Y/N started working at the coffee shop near the new mall and Robin at the ice cream shop in the new mall. And that's when it all started to change. Maybe that's a bit dramatic, but we should probably continue with the fact that Steve "The hair" Harrington was Robin's co-worker at Scoops Ahoy.

If we thought Robin and Steve didn't get along or in better words, find each other's company annoying, Y/N and Steve had nothing on them. They could barely stand each other, always bickering and calling each other names. Many said it was because there was too much sexual tension but they would say it was pure loathing. Again, dramatic, but that's how it felt at the time.

When Robin and Steve finally became friends, they went to visit Y/N at the coffee shop. Steve protested but he could never win an argument against Robin. Y/N saw Robin and immediately started smiling, that was until she saw Steve with her of course, her smile turned into a frown with an annoyed look on her face, but what could she do? they were also best friends now. So, when they all sat in the modern coffee shop waiting for Y/N to start her shift, that's when she saw what she thought was one of the most handsome men she has ever seen. So she stopped listening to whatever argument Steve and Robin were having today.

"So, what do you think Y/N?" said Robin hoping her friend would back her up.

"Y/N? Earth to Y/N." Steve started shaking his hand in front of her face making her wake up from her daydreaming.

"What?" she said with a face none of them recognized on her but Steve still tried to figure out.

Robin looked in the direction Y/N was daydreaming and noticed the guy waiting in line. "Who is that?"

"Who's who?" Y/N said hoping that it sounded cool enough for them to not ask any more questions or better yet, to not embarrass her.

"Uh...the guy who's breaking your neck?" said Steve with an amused face.

"Could it be? Y/N is finally noticing the opposite sex?"

Y/N frowned for what felt like eight times that day. "Bite me, Steve." she deadpanned.

Steve could only smirk at that and couldn't help but tease a little more. "Um, excuse me, young man! This woman here thinks you're very attractive!"

Y/N widen her eyes and put her hand on Steve's mouth so he would stop talking. "You asshole!"

The guy in the white shirt turned around and locked eyes with Y/N and he couldn't help but smile at her.

After Y/N returned the smile and saw the guy walking in, she turned to Steve with an entirely different facial expression.

"I'm going to kill you, one night in your sleep, a slit throat, maybe, or a screwdriver to your temple. Be ready." that's when she got up and left.

And of course, Robin just stayed there confused about what just happened in the last minute.

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

Later, Y/N and the guy in the white shirt, which turned out to have a name, Scott, became Y/N's first real boyfriend. And it was nice... for a couple of months until they broke up because Scott thought they needed time apart. Yeah, pretty shitty. But that leads us to this:

The party was throwing a get-together and of course, Robin, Steve, and Y/N were invited, even Vickie, Robin's current crush. But Y/N didn't show. She was still in her depression stage. And Robin being the best friend she was tried almost everything to make her feel better but Y/N was convinced she was in love with Scott and that's why it hurt so much so... Robin's last resource believe it or not was Steve Harrington. He was a great listener and an amazing friend when he wanted to be... so Robin decided to ask him a favour.

"You should have seen her...Steve...I need to know that she's okay. Could you talk to her and watch over her for a while?" said Robin sweetly hoping to convince him.

"Oh no, no, no, no." Steve chuckled nervously at the request. Y/N hated his guts how was he supposed to do that?

"She needs someone Steve, not that she would ever admit it."

Steve started making this "I really don't want to do this” face, like when someone asks you to do the dishes or something but how could he say no to Robin? It was scientifically impossible.

"You would be doing it as a favour to me, please." She begged. She never begged. So with that, Steve accepted.

Later that day, it was Steve's first attempt at standing by Y/N's side as long as she needed someone. That much he knew.

While Y/N was crying by herself like one does and having the biggest pity party, she couldn't help but notice the figure of a man, a man with a very distinguished haircut.

"Ahoy there! Anyone on the shore?" said Steve. Yeah, don't know what he expected with that. I blame it on the nerves.

"What are you doing here?" Yep. She sounded annoyed between those sniffs.

"It's the damnest thing, I just got into my car and magically drifted to your house."

"Yeah well, magically drift any closer and I'll kill you" Yeah...she loved giving him death threats.

"You know, I almost believed that..." said Steve.

Y/N looked at Steve while he sat next to her and notice that smug smile he did when he tried to be nice. "She told you didn't she?"

He nervously sighed. "What do you think?"

"I think I hate you both."

"Well you really gonna hate me when you hear what I got to say...he did the right thing, Scott, I mean."

That made Y/N look his way again but this time with a confused expression, waiting for him to continue. "You both need to be apart right now."

"How would you know what I need?" answered Y/N with a very dry tone.

"Yeah..." Steve scoffed. "You know, you're probably right. How could I possibly know how hard it is to let somebody go right? The pain of knowing that even though you're right for each other, that doesn't necessarily mean you're right for each other right now. What would I know about that right?"

Y/N closed her eyes and hoped the tears would stop coming out. But of course, she never was that lucky.

"Of all the people to see me like this, it had to be you." She finally answered, wipping her tears.

Steve chuckled. "Well you know, it's a new year, who knows, you and I might even become friends."

Y/N glared at him. "Steve, I'm upset enough as it is."

Steve smiled and put his armed around Y/N hoping it would bring her comfort somehow and when she didn't move, flinch or punch him he had this warm feeling inside which only grew when she started crying on his shoulder, seeking that comfort.

And that is the how and why that made Y/N call Steve that night. Somehow thanks to Robin and that shitty breakup with Scott.

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

So, anyway, back to the day it all changed for the two of them.

Y/N waited for Steve to pick her up and hoped he wouldn't ask any questions. But then again, when did he not?

"Hey, so what happened?" Steve asked of course.

"Nothing happened." Y/N just wanted to go home and change from the fancy outfit that she now found stupid.

Steve only felt more curious. "You got bored? you got homesick? you finally ripped off his rubber mask and revealed his true alien features? what?"

"I don't want to talk about it." she couldn't get more clear than that.

The boy scoffed in fake offense. "Oh well, forgive me if I'm having a little bit of trouble with the “no questions asked” part."

By then, they both got in the car and Steve started driving for what felt like an eternity but Y/N couldn't stand to be in that place any longer.

"So, are you ever gonna speak again? come on Y/N, say something."

Y/N with a short temper finally answered what she was hoping to avoid. "What do you want me to say Steve? “You were right”? you were right okay? right as always. Steve Harrington, the only person in my life who ever speaks the truth." she said with a fake smile.

Steve found that ironic, you know, because of the fact that with time he started developing feelings for the Y/H/C girl. But that's a story for another day.

"That's not entirely accurate." he mumbled.

"Well, you told me what was going to happen."

"Which was what Y/N/N? what happened up there?"

Steve truly just wanted to help. He couldn't stand to see her sad, he just wanted to take all her pain away all the time, even for the smallest thing, he just wanted her to be happy.

"There was another girl." said Y/N taking Steve out of his thoughts.

"Oh…I'm sorry Y/N/N." Even though he secretly wished she would be with him, he truly was sorry.

"You know, the whole time that I was watching them I just kept thinking, this is it. This is real. Just like Steve said. This is the real thing. And it reminded me once again what exactly I don't have."

Again, Steve thought this conversation was just ironic, making him want to profess his undying love for her, but he decided to keep it vague. He couldn't risk the friendship they had developed and of course, the promise he made to Robin, the "off limits" promise as he likes to call it.

"You keep looking and you'll find it." smooth Steve, smooth.

Y/N obviously didn't get the hint "I won't. I mean isn't that obvious by now? I'm not meant to."

How dramatic could she be? "Why? because you're 18 and alone? come on…"

"No, because I'm 18 and in my entire life there have been two people that actually know me Steve. Robin and-"

"This Tobey guy didn't know you, alright? I don't care how you felt about him Y/N/N, he didn't know you because if he did, he would never have walked away." that Steve got worked up over her last choice of words was an understatement.

"I was going to say you, Steve." Y/N sighed.

Steve took a deep breath and consider his options hoping he wouldn't regret them later. Which made him pull over at the side of the road.

"Have you totally lost it?" Y/N panicked at the sudden change.

"Nope. Not totally. Not yet." Steve said getting out of the car.

Y/N was stunned by that but she mimicked Steve's actions and followed him.

Steve started pacing around becoming more nervous by the second. "Okay, what did you mean by that?"

Y/N was trying to figure out what the hell was happening right now. "By what?" she questioned.

"About me knowing you better than anybody else."

"Exactly what I said Steve. You know me, okay? and in a way that nobody else besides Robin ever has-"

Steve was starting to lose his patience, Y/N's oblivious nature frustrated him sometimes. "We're not talking about Robin right now, we're talking about me. I mean you can't keep up doing this to me, Y/L/N." he let out a breath he didn't realize he was kinda holding in.

Y/N was officially confused "Doing what?! what so I count on you and tell you secrets and suddenly-"

"And you call me in the middle of the night to pick you up, why?" Did he have to spell it out for her? It wouldn't surprise him if he did.

"I'm sorry that I called, I thought that I-"

"I'm not mad that you called me, I just want to know why you called me."

"You were the first person that I thought of Steve."

"And what does that mean Y/N/N?" This is it. This has to be it, thought Steve.

"It- it means…I guess it means that I can talk to you and that you're there for me."

Yeah, it wasn't, clearly, he would need to show her and that clueless mind of hers. "Don't you ever get tired of talking?" said Steve barely holding his thoughts together.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows so hard one would think they would have stayed like that forever. "No. No, I don't get tired of talking. I don't- no."

"I don't want to talk anymore."

"What are you trying to say, Steve? why are we standing here? I don't-"

Steve thought it was now or never. He rushed over to her, closing the remaining gap between them, and gave her the most tender yet passionate kiss either of them had ever experienced. Y/N was taken by surprise and at first, was in shock until she couldn't help it and melted into his lips and his embrace. It was heavenly after all.

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

One week later.

Everyone was waiting for Steve's birthday party. He complained but everyone was so persistent with doing something nice for him and the fact that they also crave some normal, monster-free activities.

"Oh, hey, look. There's Robin and Vickie." said Max with relief.

Lucas noticed. "Got the champagne?"

Robin smiled proudly at her accomplishment of getting the drinks while moving the bottle in the air. "Right here. Oop! Whoa. That was almost a disaster." she then took the bottle with both hands to prevent an accident that would end with the party not having some type of alcohol.

"Hey, guys."

"Hey." said the kids in unison. Pretty weird if you ask Robin.

"So, uh, where's Y/N? I thought she was coming with us." asked Max.

"She, uh, wanted to stop at the library and plow through that watergate history assignment."

Or....at least that's what she told Robin.

Because meanwhile in Steve's bedroom. A heavy makeout session was in the process. That has been happening a lot lately. And with a lot, I mean every day. Whenever they saw each other, they couldn't help but feel the deep attraction that was unlocked after that surprise kiss one week ago.

"Come on. Let's go, Steve." said Y/N between needy, sloppy kisses.

Steve only hummed and carried her to his desk so they could be more comfortable.

"It's your birthday party we're planning on going to." Y/N kept trying.

Finally, Steve found the strength to answer. "I have a birthday party?" he said mocking surprise.

"Mmm." the kisses just kept getting more determined which alarmed Y/N.

"No, we have to stop this. It's wrong." said Y/N with a whiny voice.

Steve was only partially listening. "Yes. Dead wrong."

While the brunette boy started kissing her neck, in between the pleasure she felt her overthinking mind also stepped in.

"Steve. Look, we've been in denial all week." she said moving him back a little so he would look at her.

"I mean, when we're around other people, we pretend like nothing's changed, and then the minute we're alone, it turns into this."

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. He truly was interested in what Y/N would say their relationship now was. "This what?"

Y/N thought for a second. "Well, this…embarrassing grope fest."

Steve hummed in agreement. "Yeah, I guess this is kind of embarrassing, huh? Especially for you, given how much you protested." he kissed her again.

Y/N kissed him back but then pulled him away smiling playfully. "I did not protest."

"You did too."

The kissing didn't stop until Steve backed down after his own overthinking.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait."

"What?" questioned Y/N.

Steve sighed. "I gotta tell her, Y/N/N. We do. We gotta tell her as soon as possible, because the longer we wait, Y/N/N, the worse it gets."

Y/N shook her head. "No, Steve. I've tried. I've tried plenty of times to--"

"Every time I see Robin now, I just feel like--"

"You don't have to bother filling in the expletive, okay?" said Y/N in a low voice.

"I mean, this isn't exactly the easiest thing I've ever had to do, Steve-- telling Robin that while she wasn't looking, I developed this bizarre gravitational pull towards her best friend, and I can't stop thinking about him or wanting to be near him or wanting to kiss him, all the time." And, the kissing started again. It was undeniable,

"I'll do it. I'll tell her." said Steve looking deep into her Y/E/C eyes to let her know he was serious.

Y/N thought about it for a second but then she shook her head again. "No, I can't let you do that. It's--this is my responsibility."

"Y/N/N, it's not your responsibility. I'm the one that started this, remember? I'm the one that got you into this situation. And, frankly, the only way that I want to save my friendship with Robin is to be completely honest with her, so I gotta do this. All I need is one day. Just one day."

Y/N decided to trust him. "One day."

"Yes." said Steve while kissing her forehead. "One day."

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

Steve waited outside Robin's window, hoping the strength to get in and see her would arrive. To many, this would seem a bit dramatic but given Steve's history with girls, Robin didn't want Y/N to be one of them and end up getting hurt, or, even the other way around. She hoped that it was possible for one straight boy and girl to remain only friends.

Taking him out of his thoughts, Steve noticed Nancy walking toward him.

"Hey."

"Hey, Steve." she said with an empathic voice.

She was the only one that knew what was going on between Y/N and Steve after Y/N needed some serious girl talk, she of course didn't mention Steve's name but Nancy figured it out in no time.

"Nobody home?"

"I don't know, actually." Steve mumbled.

"Could knock and find out."

Steve finally looked at her. "I could just walk right in, you know. They never lock it. I've been coming here, just walking right through the front door, making myself at home."

Nancy hummed at his response and notice how nervous he was. "She wants to be with you, Steve. She does." she said talking about Y/N of course.

Steve furrowed his eyebrows. "And you know this how?"

"Told me so this morning."

"Why am I not happy to hear that right now?" said Steve with a dry nervous chuckle.

"Well, because right now you've gotta walk through that front door and tell your best friend that the only girl in the universe she asked you to stay away from…"

"Is the same one that I can’t live without." Steve sighed.

"Yeah." said Nancy in an almost whisper-type voice feeling sorry for him.

"I've had this conversation with her in my head a thousand times."

"Yeah? how's it go?" said Nancy smiling a little.

"Oh, you know, Robin saying something along the lines of…"Vaya con Dios, Steve." She deserves a shot at being happy. Now…why don't you give it a try?"

Nancy kept smiling and nodding."It could happen. Just minus the spanish part."

Steve chuckled. "Yeah."

That was the first failed attempt at telling Robin the secret that was eating both of her best friends up.

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

Steve entered his house remembering he was also going to meet with Dustin.

Just two seconds later he noticed the curly hair boy. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Henderson, I'm sorry. Look, me and Y/N came to a really important decision." Oh right, Dustin also knew about Steve and Y/N little love fest.

Dustin looked surprised. "Woah woah woah wait, since when are you and Y/N deciding anything?"

Steve grinned. "You're gonna like this one, 'cause it turns out you were right. She's into me, man. That's why she got so freaked out when I kissed her."

"Really?" said Dustin with a doubtful tone.

"Yeah."

"So, then you told Robin?" Of course, he was going to ask that.

"Uh…no, not exactly. That's what I was trying to do all morning, Henderson. Remember the little errand that I had to run, but it just…turned into this wild goose chase, and… I didn't think it was going to take that long. I'm sorry."

Dustin decided to give him a piece of his mind now that things seemed to be getting more complicated.

"Look. Telling Robin that you kissed Y/N in a moment of weakness is a hell of a lot different than sneaking around with her behind her back, don't you think?" Dustin then sighed at Steve's sad eyes.

"Look, Steve, at the end of the day, Y/N and Robin, they're gonna stay friends or whatever it is that they are, and you're gonna end up alone. All right? no girlfriend, no friend, just completely and utterly alone. Think about it. I was right before, wasn't I?"

Even though it sounded cruel, they all know how sensitive the topic was for Robin. The party of course would support them and probably say "fucking finally" but Robin...she was in denial of all that chemistry.

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

Steve was walking to Robin's house determined on telling her and not backing down like earlier. But behind him running, was Y/N trying to catch him before he entered.

"Hey." Y/N grabbed his wrist and pulled this worried expression. She seemed upset too.

"Hey. Hey, Y/N/N, what's wrong?" said Steve while he hugged her trying to calm her breathing.

“Look, Steve…we can’t do this okay?"

"Can’t do what?" Steve questioned nerviously.

"I have to be the one to tell her, okay? I mean, things are really complicated between me and Robin, and it has nothing to do with you, it's just…look it has to come from me or else it is going to ruin everything." she said with the most anxious tone Steve had ever seen Y/N carry.

"Okay, okay, that's okay. Just calm down Y/N/N, it's alright. We'll do whatever you want to do okay?" he hugged her again.

"A sign of what?"

Steve decided to keep talking and see if that would calm her a little.

"I mean, you wanna know God's honest truths? I've been in the process of chickening out the whole way over here." he said chuckling lightly.

That only made Y/N overthink even more.

"Maybe is a sign, Steve."

Y/N didn't know if she should continue honestly but she thought Steve deserved the truth.

"It's just that for so long, she's been everything to me Steve, I mean this girl has been my family when I hadn't had one, and she's the one person in my life who I can always depend on and this, this is gonna kill her."

Steve then sighed, realizing something. "You never had any intention of telling her, did ya?" he then smiled. "You didn't come here tonight to tell her, you came here to stop me from doing-"

Y/N quickly cutted him off shaking her head. "No, I tried to tell her, I went up there and I tried-"

"Of course, you did but, let me guess, you failed right?"

After that Robin came out of the house. It seemed they weren't as discrete and quiet as they thought.

"I thought I heard something out here." she deadpanned.

FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED <3

so.... yeah. thinking of making part 2??

[joheunsaram]

glitter and disquiet (jjk) - final

Part of the Sons of Midas Collab

Part 1 | Part 2 | Drabble

Summary- Poised to inherit Korea’s largest gaming company in a few months, the world looks at Jeon Jungkook as a symbol of envy. Why wouldn’t they? He has everything, riches, power, and according to the rumour mill, endless women. Little do they know that his father’s company is on the verge of downfall, he barely has respect of his employees, and regardless of the rumours, he’s just a virgin saving himself for true love.

word count -  17.6k

pairing- ceo!Jungkook x youtuber!Reader

rating- R

genre- angst, smut, fluff, chaebol!au

warnings- virgin!Jungkook, mentions of cheating, divorce, open relationships, descriptions of anxiety and panic attacks, car accident, hospitals, alcoholism, depression, vanilla smut including unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), lots and lots of crying and misunderstandings, Jungkook a lowkey asshole in this, Jungkooks also a big Dawson’s Creek fanboy (see his boat lol)

a.n- And we’re finally at the end of this story! It took a while but there were a lot of strings to tie in this story. I hope you enjoy the ending and that I did justice to this version of our overly-romantic jk.

A big warm thank you to @oftenderweapons @hobiandsprite  for beta reading this and helping me plan it out! ily guys you keep me sane and happy 💕

As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌

-

It’s a funny thing, trust. We give it away so easily, almost on the daily. We trust that drivers racing past us on a highway are capable enough not to crash into us. We trust that the high school student making our coffee wouldn’t tamper with it. We trust the coworkers we are paired with for a big project not to sabotage our efforts for a promotion. But most of all, we trust strangers we have only spent mere months with not to break our hearts.

You trusted Jungkook, laying naked in bed in a random room on that yacht, with a giddy smile on your face. You stared at the opulent ceiling, decorated with ornate designs carved into the pale oak. It was beautiful — a criss-cross of vines that overlapped each other, but regardless of the intricacies it was an odd optical illusion of sorts, leaving you a little uneasy. The vines seemed as if they were moving, the slight rocking of the river making it vividly overwhelming. 

Taking a deep breath you averted your gaze, burrowing into the sheets, suddenly cold. Perhaps it was sea sickness, but suddenly you felt a little anxious. You laid there for a while, waiting for Jungkook to return but when half an hour passed and his phone kept going to voicemail, you decided to change back into your dress. 

You bit your lip as you texted him while fixing your hair in the mirror attached to one of the walls near the door. As the minutes ticked by without a response, you felt worry settle in the pit of your stomach. Jungkook wasn’t someone who would abandon you like that, without a word — especially after the intimate moment you had just shared. 

Walking into the hallway, you decided to go look for your boyfriend. It felt odd thinking about him as your boyfriend. In fact, it felt odd thinking about Jungkook as anything other than the cold playboy from your class that you loved to bicker with. You couldn’t help the giddy smile on your face as a montage of your month together played in your head. They way he had gone from the reserved quiet man to the doting one who never shut up about the latest game he was playing. 

The party was still in full swing when you reached the deck, and when after a few rounds around the dance floor and bar you still hadn’t seen Jungkook, you felt your worry return. You didn’t even see his friends, and you couldn’t help the chill that climbed up your spine at the realization. Something had to be wrong.

Before you could dwell too much on worst case scenarios you heard your name being called. 

Hoseok stood behind you when you turned, face pale, hair dishevelled from running his fingers through it as he spoke in flurried words that were hard to understand. He seemed panicked, fidgeting with his tie as he loosened it in an attempt to breathe more easily.

“Hoseok, calm down. What’s wrong?” you asked, bracing your hands on his shoulders and breathing deeply, encouraging him to mimic your movements.

“Candy was in an accident. Jungkook too. Hospital. Let’s go.” His words were still rapid, but the moment you heard your boyfriend’s name you felt your heart drop, your ears ringing with static. 

You followed Hoseok to the water taxis, the two of you almost sprinting and thanking your luck that there was one already waiting. It was a quick drive to the hospital, with Hoseok breaking almost every single traffic law to arrive faster while you sat, willing your heart to slow down. He couldn’t leave you. Not after a month. Not after just asking you to be his girlfriend.

You tried not to tear up, but Hoseok was mute from the moment he started driving, jaw set and a hand playing with his ear for comfort. He never elaborated on either person’s condition, and all you could think of was how fleeting everything seemed. You thought of Jungkook on top of you, leaning on his forearm as he nuzzled your nose with his, his eyes shining brightly, cheeks blushed as he asked you to be his girlfriend. Of his stupid wink as he told you to stay naked that you rolled your eyes at. The more the scene looped in your head, the harder the lump in your throat became, heart pounding. Don’t be negative. He’s fine. He’s going to be absolutely fine.

You repeated the mantra, forcing your eyes to remain dry, as Hoseok and you raced through the doors of the hospital. The same one where you had kept Jungkook company as he stayed with his mother. You held back the tears, all through Hoseok’s questioning of the head nurse on duty. Held them back while she informed the two of you of how they had been t-boned on the highway into the city, how Candy was rushed into surgery, and how Jungkook was still getting his MRIs done. You even held them back when the nurse directed you to a private waiting room, an empty room with a few tables and couches, snacks and a large television. A television that was displaying a news report about the accident. 

Candy and Jungkook’s photographs covered the screen, the reporter informing the audience of how their condition was unknown. When the scene changed to show the wreckage, it was the last straw. A loud sob escaped your throat as you watched a black Mercedes almost flattened from the side, glass glittering on the asphalt as the truck that had hit them looked almost unscathed in comparison.

You clutched your mouth as the television became blurry behind your tears. Next to you, you could hear Hoseok’s breath catch as he scrambled for the remote to turn off the gore. The silence was deafening, only broken by your anguished cries. 

You didn’t realize you were kneeling till Hoseok joined you on the floor, pulling your body into his in a tight embrace. The rocking of your bodies seemed almost automatic, and amidst the panic you wondered why humans rocked themselves for comfort. It was soothing, burying your face in Hoseok’s chest as you tried to convince each other that the people you had given your hearts to were going to be safe. 

It might have been minutes or hours, you didn’t know, all you knew was that your tears had run dry, their existence now painted onto Hoseok’s shirt and your puffy eyes. Walking to the table with snacks, you made two coffees, handing one to Hoseok who still had tears running down his face. He took it, making no effort to take a sip as his fingers drummed on the table.

“I think it’s my fault,” Hoseok said quietly after a moment, his face hallowed in realization as he looked at you with wide eyes.

“Don’t say that,” you chastised, holding his hand. He squeezed back, explaining that he had been calling and messaging Candy nonstop, that she probably got distracted. He seemed to be talking himself into another panic, but you held both of his hands trying to distract him from his overthinking.

“They are going to be okay, Hoseok,” you said, voice more stable and determined than you anticipated. “Repeat after me, they are going to be okay.”

You waited for him to clear his throat before he repeated your mantra, voice waterlogged. He followed your instructions a few times, before prying his hands from yours and running them through his hair in frustration.

“I love her, Y/N. I don’t know what I’m going to do… if…” He trailed off, face scrunched in an effort to control his sobs.

“They are going to be okay,” you repeated, no other words bringing you comfort in the moment. Hoseok was practically a stranger, but you wanted to help him. You let him bury his head in your neck, returning the favour, as the two of you sat at the table, waiting for some news - any news.

Much more put together than you were earlier, you comforted Hoseok with optimistic words, even though your chest was aching with uncertainty. When the door opened you both jumped, hoping for a nurse with an update, but it was only Seokjin and Yoongi, walking in with equally worried expressions. Expressions that turned cold once they landed on you.

“No. What the fuck is she doing here?” Yoongi sneered, almost stomping over to where you were sitting, eyes boring into a confused Hoseok. When Hoseok didn’t reply in the thirty seconds Yoongi had patience for, he turned to you, his gaze making you feel the smallest you had ever felt.

“Get. Out.” He gritted. You didn’t understand where this malice was coming from, all you wanted was to wait for news about Jungkook. Regardless of how intimidating Yoongi was, you were not leaving without seeing your boyfriend.

“No,” you replied, matching his icy tone. You stood up, crossing your arms in defiance as you continued to stare down the man in front of you. Although you were sure on the outside you seemed collected, calm even, inside you were terrified. You were scared for Jungkook, and you were scared of the powerful men in the room who seemed to suddenly have it out for you. 

Unlike Jungkook and his friends that celebrated birthdays on anchored yachts in the middle of the Han river, you had never even seen a yacht until that day. You didn’t grow up in fancy private schools, with luxury at your beck and call. You supported yourself through terrible part time jobs, from working in a convenience store to a disgusting factory just to scrape by until your hobby somehow paid off and you could pursue the graduate degree you wanted. You were older than everyone in your class, often looked down upon for being a ‘mature’ student, but you were proud. You were proud that your life had given you the strength to survive on your own two feet and to stand up to Yoongi at that moment. 

Walking away from the man towering over you, you sat on the other end of the room, claiming your right to be there for your boyfriend. Yoongi just laughed at that; a harsh, almost manic cackle, before leaving to call security. 

You still held your ground when two burly men arrived to escort you out, but despite your protests and pleas for at least an update on Jungkook’s condition, Yoongi won. He smirked at you as you left, while Seokjin and Hoseok stood back awkwardly, not meeting your eyes. It took everything in you not to break down, but you were not going to give them the satisfaction.

Your head hurt, heart even more so, when you finally reached the entrance of the hospital. You couldn’t believe the treatment Jungkook’s best friends had given you — a bitterness carving into your chest. Your only way of knowing if he was okay was through social media and the news.

You didn’t sleep that night, the inescapable image of the totalled Mercedes invading your thoughts, leaving your limbs heavy and your mind a wreck, till you had no choice but to return to the hospital.

----------

It was pretty fitting the way the rain fell upon the large windows, the droplets leaving trails that refracted the lights of passing cars into glimmers of rainbows before disappearing into nothing. Jungkook’s pinky twitched in his cast, and he finally understood why everyone made fun of him for his stupid theories. He rolled his eyes at his past self — he had been so naive. Soulmates weren’t real. They only appeared in myths and movies because they were fictional. 

The past eighteen hours had taught Jungkook that he was no longer that boy believing in fairytales and true love. In fact the past month had been nothing but a glaring reminder of how fictional love really was. From his parents to his closest friends, everyone was broken because they decided to chase it. Love wasn’t attainable, it was lore spun by people to fall into the comfort of another; to stave off loneliness. Love was a trap.

Well, Jungkook was no longer going to fall for it. Fuck love. All it did was put him in a state of complacency where he had not only left himself vulnerable, but his father’s legacy as well. He chuckled bitterly at the thought. He truly was a cliche of those noir films — the gullible victim of corporate espionage. 

He tapped at the glass, trying to see if it would affect the raindrops. It didn’t, much like how his anger and disdain for you did nothing to erase the way he still felt about you. He buried the feeling. It was useless to him now, after all.

The beep of Candy’s heart monitor rang through the empty ICU room and he made it his focus. When she had initially been brought back after her surgery, the room had been full of relief, but now it was eerily quiet, no one having the strength to talk anymore. It was oddly reminiscent of when his mother was laying in the same bed, and he loathed how, despite hating you, he missed how you calmed him, erasing his worst thoughts. He missed you. 

He could see the sun starting to rise over the skyscrapers that surrounded the hospital, the morning sun bleary behind the dark clouds that hid it from view, painting the landscape grey. He sniffled, twin tear tracks painting his cheeks as visions of you danced behind his eyelids. Jungkook felt weak. What did it say about him, when out of the two women he’d ever loved, one was fighting for her life after saving his, and the other had made him believe she was doing the same, only to destroy everything he believed in?

With an unnecessary excuse to the room, he left, hoping a cup of coffee would clear his thoughts. Of course his stupid card didn’t work in the vending machine. God, he felt like shit.

He adjusted his neck brace, walking towards the cafeteria, but the whiplash from the accident was nothing compared to the one he felt when he saw you in the main lobby, hands crossed in your lap as you stared seemingly at nothing. You were still wearing the same dress you wore to his birthday, and he had an instant urge to run down the two flights of stairs into your arms, to hold you tight. It was like a reflex, overwhelming but natural, and he was almost at the staircase before his mind caught up with him. He shook his head, ignoring the sudden shooting pain, and changed directions.

The sun was shining brightly through the large windows when he reached the cafeteria. The coffee was bitter, and when he contemplated texting you back, he came across the group chat where all his friends were talking of your betrayal. 

He locked his phone, and decided to wait in the cafeteria till Candy woke up.

----------

You sat in the lobby of the hospital for three days, hoping that someone would give you an update, but Jungkook was pretty much a celebrity and no one had an ounce of sympathy for you. Perhaps you were being excessive, but with all your messages and his phone always going to voicemail, you were hoping someone would let you know if he was at least alive. The news had forgotten the story in light of a celebrity dating scandal. The only reason you knew he was still there was because of the familiar faces that you would spy walking in during visiting hours and rushing to the elevator leading to the private wings.

One of those familiar faces was Jimin, the only one who noticed you sitting there. The frown on his face deepened when he reached you. Despite his cold posture, ramrod straight with a hand in his pocket, his face showed confusion.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in a hushed tone, as if he feared people questioning him if he were any louder.

“What do you think, Jimin?” You matched his tone, standing up, wanting to be as indifferent as he was, but your resolve lasted mere seconds before you were greedy for answers. “Is he okay?”

Jimin sighed, his face softening, before he placed a hand on your shoulder. 

“He’s fine, Y/N. Just a broken wrist and a little whiplash. He’s going to be okay.” He squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.

Although Jimin’s words were meant to be reassuring, they only confused you further. If Jungkook was okay, why were you left in the dark? Why hadn’t he reached out? As if on instinct, you reached for your phone, brows furrowed as you tried to see if you had somehow missed his messages. Before you could express your confusion, Jimin sensed it, demeanour changing instantly as he crossed his arms.

“He’s not going to message you,” he said plainly.

“What? But why?” you asked softly, your heart feeling as if it had lodged itself in your throat.

“You seriously think he’s going to want to be with someone who was using him?” Jimin sneered with an eye roll, and suddenly your mind cleared. You searched your name and Saga Games, devastated to find the press release. When you looked up from your phone, Jimin was walking away. 

“Wait! That’s not true!” 

You ran after him, desperately wanting to explain yourself, only to get ignored as the elevator doors closed in your face.

----------

“Next time you almost kill yourself, please don’t profess your love for me.” Jungkook said sarcastically as Candy giggled over her jello cup. Blankets were pooled around her waist, hiding the large cast on her leg from view. Her face was bright, as always, despite the large bruises on her face, and Jungkook thought she looked as beautiful as ever. He wondered why he had stopped loving her. It had been almost ten years since his little crush started, and he didn’t understand himself. How could he yell at his father for giving up on love, when he himself gave up on his first love?

“I did that to save you, you ungrateful brat,” she retorted with a roll of her eyes, and Jungkook couldn’t help but be endeared, his nose scrunching as he smiled widely. After roaming the halls of the hospital for days and sneaking glances at you, always sitting in the same spot, he had felt a heavy weight on his chest. It seemed that no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t face you. He wanted to confront you, but he was a coward. Wasn’t he always?

When Candy had finally awoken, he felt lighter, the relief easing his heartbreak a little. She had spent so long away from him, even when she had returned to Seoul, that finally having her back in his life felt like a ray of sunlight breaking through the dark expanse of a forest. Perhaps that’s why her little giggles and jokes were making him confused. 

She was barely even looking at him, her attention mostly on her phone as she continued listing things that she had done for him over their decade long friendship, and Jungkook felt stupid for letting her go. Why did he have to get over her and fall for you instead? If he could fall out of love with her, he could also fall back in love, right? Sure, she may be in love with Hoseok, but he could convince her otherwise, right?

Without another thought, he leaned forward, calling her name instead of the usual ‘noona’, and when she looked up at him, annoyed at his lack of respect, he couldn’t help himself. With a deep breath in, he closed the distance, molding his lips to hers. They were soft, lingering with the vanilla of her lip balm, but all he could feel was how they weren’t yours. 

He had been dreaming of kissing Candy since he was fifteen. He expected it to feel like the movies, fireworks and pounding hearts, but all he felt was unease, a hollowness that only reminded him of how different this kiss was from the ones he had shared with you. With you he felt as if he was floating, like if he didn’t have your touch his heart would gallop out of his chest, but with Candy it felt clinical, like he was rehearsing lines for a play that would never open. 

Despite his overthinking, the kiss was short lived; a quick meeting of their lips, and when he pulled away he couldn’t help how misty his eyes got. Nothing felt right. Would it ever feel right again? Perhaps you really were his soulmate, and it would make sense if he wasn’t yours. His life had been too easy, it would make sense that he couldn’t get everything he wanted. Perhaps he was meant to live in isolation — an island inhabited. 

“Bunny… what?” Candy asked, shock written all over her face, and Jungkook felt even sadder. Had he also ruined his relationship with his best friend? Why were you doing this to him?

He apologized quickly, and when her face softened in what looked akin to pity, he couldn’t help the way his tears fell. He hadn’t cried since the night of the accident, and now he couldn’t stop. She cradled him in her arms, consoling him and it only made him sob harder. He didn’t even know why he was sad anymore. He was supposed to be mad at you, angry that you used him only to get intel on his company, but he had never felt more distraught in his entire life. 

“Why didn’t it feel good?” he asked, his voice meek, betraying his inexperience and Candy sighed, her fingers running through his hair.

“Because you don’t love me like that, bunny. Sometimes… sometimes people are better as friends, and that’s okay. We’re okay, you know that right?”

“I shouldn’t miss her right? I shouldn’t love her,” he said, looking at her with tear filled eyes, and she smiled softly.

“It’s okay to miss her. It’s okay to feel what you’re feeling,” she reassured softly.

“Love is fucking stupid,” he lamented, leaning his head against her shoulder.

“That it is,” she chuckled. “Stupid, but worth it.”

Although he stayed silent, the ache in his heart disagreed. Perhaps if he saw you again, perhaps if you were sitting in the lobby like you had all those days, it would clear up the agony in his veins and treat his symptoms of heartbreak without curing the cause.

With just that thought rattling through him, he left his best friend’s embrace without a word, almost sprinting towards the lobby. He had hoped you’d still be there, but seeing you sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair, half asleep, made his hands clammy with nerves. 

You were dressed in an oversized hoodie, your frame almost swallowed by the black material, and with your feet folded under you, you looked almost tiny, timid unlike the animal your nickname had originated from. He had never seen you look so frail. He was the one supposed to be recovering from an accident, but all he could see was your hair carelessly tied in a bun, your eyes weighed down by dark rings around them.

He had told himself that he only had to see you once, just look at you and his anger would be back, but it was like he was on autopilot, and soon he was standing in front of you softly calling your name. 

You jumped off the chair, unable to stop yourself from engulfing him in your arms. When you looked up at him, tears were streaming down your face, and when you cupped Jungkook’s face between your hands, he felt his heartbeat stutter, his hands mirroring your actions as if all on their own.

“You’re okay,” you whispered, as if in awe.

“I’m okay,” Jungkook answered, resisting the overwhelming urge to kiss you. Why did you look so sad? Why couldn’t you be cold and heartless like he had portrayed you in his head these past few days?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your sweater, something that made Jungkook want to do it for you instead. He wanted to make sure you were okay regardless of the fact that you had broken him. Instead, he stepped away from you, the distance feeling like miles instead of inches. 

“I don’t want to see you anymore, Y/N,” Jungkook replied with a heavy sigh. He had to be rational about this, he couldn’t let his rose-coloured glasses warp his view of reality. Not again.

“Is this about Saga?” 

“It’s about you lying to me and using me, Y/N,” Jungkook said coldly, and you couldn’t help the way your chest ached at his words. You never meant to hide this from him, in fact, the offer had pretty much slipped your mind. However, before you could reply, Jungkook was continuing, his words flurried.

“You lied to me. You made me think what we had was special — that it was something that mattered. But it never mattered, did it?” He scoffed, chuckling bitterly, before putting his hands on your shoulder. “I don’t need you. I don’t want you. Please leave,” he sighed before starting to walk away.

“But Jungkook, if you let me explain, I can fix us,” you started, almost sprinting after him to keep up with his pace.

“There is no us,” he replied, tone harsh and final. and you couldn’t help the way it cut deep within you. “I kissed Candy, by the way,” he added nonchalantly, despite knowing he was just trying to hurt you as much as you hurt him.

“That’s okay,” you said weakly, head downturned. You didn’t care who he kissed, as long as he gave you a chance to explain. You missed the way he faltered in his steps before continuing walking, too focused on the icy goodbye he tossed your way before he disappeared up the staircase.

You knew he was hurting, that you had unintentionally broken his trust, but you needed him to understand. You needed him back, because that month with Jungkook had probably been the best month of your life. You were never one to give up, and so standing in the lobby of the hospital, you decided just that. 

You were going to win Jeon Jungkook back.

----------

Y/N: how’s my fav ta? Aaron: im great! how’s my fav ex? Y/N: oppa we dated for two months in high school. please get over me. Aaron: the utter disrespect smh. what you want? Aaron: and no im not changing your grade a 94 is good enough! Y/N: you know i deserved a 98 on that paper Aaron: yeaaaaaah right. your paper was pedantic and superfluous Y/N: jeez… i get it you’re a ta Y/N: but that’s not what i want Y/N: pair up me and jungkook for the next assignment Aaron: eww i dont wanna play matchmaker Y/N: come on pleaseeeee! Aaron: what do i get in return? Y/N: anything! Aaron: shout me out in your stream Y/N: that is the stupidest thing ive ever heard Aaron: do it Aaron: and you gotta say aaron is the best champcon player of all time Y/N: … Y/N: sure whatever ill lie for you Aaron: hell yeah Aaron: consider me bribed Aaron: and do remind jungkook this is how you bribe not with a wad of cash in a stupid handshake Y/N: i still cant believe he did that to yuna Aaron: shes straight up scarred dude lol

----------

Jungkook hated being discharged from the hospital. He had delayed his stay but after one week, he was essentially kicked out. It had been almost a month since he had been home, and although he should be happy that he was back, he despised the silence. It left him alone with his thoughts for too long. What was worse was that he could no longer disappear into work. Work used to help him drown out any silly thoughts, it was a reprieve from his overactive mind, but now working on the game reminded him of you. 

As he coded the prototype, all he could see was your handwriting; the way you curved your c’s, and the way your w’s always had a little circle between them. It was stupid, but he could spend hours looking at your cursive — it was just so you, the letters engraved into the paper from your determined strokes, yet looking soft as if you wrote them down as an afterthought.

He groaned, tipping his head back, catching the attention of Namjoon’s puppy who took it as a sign to come nuzzle his legs. He couldn’t help the little smile that came over his lips and he picked up Gureum, letting him cuddle into him. The only bright thing about the past month had been Namjoon. For so long his hyung had been in this black hole of self-destruction that when he had asked to move in with him, Jungkook couldn’t open up his home fast enough. 

When Namjoon moved in two weeks ago, it was a little heartbreaking. He could see the deep sadness rooted in the older man’s eyes and Jungkook felt helpless. He didn’t know how he could comfort his friend without breaking down himself, so the conversations remained surface-level. Jungkook tried to show him love by throwing away all alcohol in his house and making sure Namjoon ate and exercised. Once he adopted Gureum, Namjoon seemed a little lighter, but every week when he returned from therapy, he could see how burdened his soul was. 

Jungkook sometimes saw him crying when he thought he wasn’t looking, silently wiping his tears as he stared out into the city, but he didn’t know how to make it better. What did Jungkook know about the depth of love Namjoon held for Princess, when all he had done was swim in the kiddie pool, too afraid to dive in, held back by his ideals. Maybe if he had more experience, it wouldn’t have hurt as much when you betrayed him and left him reeling. Perhaps it would hurt less. Maybe he should start being more adventurous, stop guarding his virginity like some trophy to present to his future wife.

And so Jungkook decided to download Tinder, trying to wrap his mind around the concept of one night stands. Even if he was terrible, he would never have to see that person again so there shouldn’t be any harm to venturing out. He had just set up his profile and was starting to swipe, when he involuntarily started imagining you doing the same. He hated it. What would he do if he came across your profile?

The thought sent chills down his spine as he tossed the phone to the side, groaning loudly yet again, startling a sleeping Gureum. 

 “Hey JK, want some food? I ordered pizza,” Namjoon said, walking into Jungkook’s bedroom, chuckling at his younger friend sprawled on the chair. He picked up the puppy from his lap, cooing at him, before asking Jungkook to come to the living room.

The smell of pepperoni and hot cheese permeated the room, making Jungkook’s stomach grumble as he sat on the couch, ready to devour. Dinner was fairly quiet, both men talking about their days. Namjoon had seen his therapist today, and although usually he was pretty guarded about what he shared during his sessions, he was forthcoming today.

“Eunho and I are working on a strategy,” Namjoon said, a little carefully, and Jungkook sat up at attention, swallowing his last bite. He felt honoured that his hyung was sharing something so personal with him. “Recognizing my patterns, you know, doing things that are terrible for me, to help me avoid dealing with things head on.”

Jungkook nodded, even though he didn’t understand the pointed stare Namjoon was giving him. His friend just shook his head, taking another bite before speaking, “Are there things that you do that are terrible for you?”

Jungkook looked at him, big eyes blinking in response. Deciding it would be better to share than let the novel conversation die out, he contributed. “Oh yeah totally. I tend to work a lot.”

“Yeah. I’ve noticed,” Namjoon said with an amused smile. “You haven’t left your room other than for work all of last week. Wanna talk about it?”

“Oh…” Jungkook said, realization dawning on him that Namjoon had just expertly got him to admit that he was avoiding something. With Namjoon’s recluse phase, Jungkook had almost forgotten how smart his friend was. Perhaps he could actually help him with his recent dilemma. 

“Well, hyung, now that you bring it up… Should I get laid?” Jungkook asked, a little hesitant and internally cringing at his own weird comment. Namjoon just chuckled, shaking his head.

“I mean… Do you want to get laid?” Namjoon asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe I can forget about Y/N if I sleep with someone else? Like, I should be free, y’know? I feel like I’m stuck and I don’t wanna love her anymore but I can’t help it!” Jungkook grew exceedingly frustrated as he spoke, Namjoon staring at him with raised eyebrows.

Namjoon sighed before speaking, “You know, Jungkook, you can sleep with everyone in the world and it wouldn’t make it hurt less. Trust me, I know.” 

He placed a hand on Jungkook’s knee, patting him slightly before standing up to clear the dishes while Jungkook contemplated his words. Namjoon was probably right. He had a few years of experience over him. But then again, shouldn’t Jungkook be free to make his own mistakes? To sleep around and find out for himself if it hurts less or not?

As Namjoon sat back down to play with the puppy, Jungkook unlocked his phone again. Swiping on Tinder seemed like a great way to forget about you all of a sudden.

----------

It turned out embarrassing yourself on stream by giving your TA a shout out wasn’t worth anything since Jungkook refused to correspond with you on anything other than emails — very well written, polite emails that were probably composed by his assistant. Jungkook was not only good at ghosting you over messages, but it seemed he had disappeared off the face of the planet. 

Citing his very publicized accident, he had taken a leave of absence from school, opting to finish the second half of his final semester from home, completing his assignments and only showing up for tests. The professors didn’t care much — he was almost at the top of your class — but you did. You hated that you were relegated from someone he wanted to see everyday to a mere email, a colleague. 

You were almost about to give up, forget all about the doe-eyed boy that brightened your life for a moment only to fade away like a momentary shooting star. You never expected to see him again, least of all here.

After over two months of dwelling over a one-day boyfriend, your friends had forced you to get out of your shell. Yugyeom’s party was supposed to be a reset, a way for you to let loose before letting go of Jungkook. A way to drink and maybe meet someone new to distract yourself. 

You had put in more effort than you usually would, breaking out your lace bustier and expensive jeans that you saved only for when you went to snobby clubs downtown. It was your get-laid outfit, highlighting your curves in a way that would make any straight man’s mouth water, and you were proud of the makeup that accompanied your all black outfit. You were feeling confident and, with the two shots you had downed in your apartment, you felt light. All of which came to a standstill the moment you walked in and saw Jungkook standing between a girl’s legs as she sat on the kitchen counter.

You hated how your heart dropped at the view. While he barely noticed you, the way his hands were gripping her hips and his lips caressed her jaw as he spoke would be forever etched in your mind. You had spent months trying to get in touch with him, crying over him, worrying over his health, but he seemed content in forgetting about you. You never thought a man would have reduced you to a shell of yourself, but Jeon Jungkook seemed to excel at everything — even breaking hearts.

Grabbing a bottle of tequila from the counter, you solidified your resolve to forget about the heartbreaker in the leather jacket, and focused on finding someone you could take home. If idealistic virgin Jungkook had no problem moving on from your short-lived romance, then why should you pay him any more mind? 

Fuck Jungkook, you thought as your eyes met those of the cute host from across the room. You were going to have fun. 

You took a big, burning sip straight from the bottle before making your way over to Yugyeom, missing the way Jungkook stared at your retreating figure.

----------

Jungkook really wanted to pay attention to his date. He really wanted to be the person Jimin had coached him to be while chatting to Jisoo over Tinder. It was going well so far. He was the epitome of the suave playboy that all the tabloids painted him as. He was calm and collected, not even batting an eyelash at how forward Jisoo got after the two of them had shared a few things. She was pulling at his shirt, kissing his neck, and Jungkook wasn’t scared of letting her down because he truly didn’t care if she thought he was good in bed or not. Why should he when he was never going to see her again?

But then he turned around.

And there you were giggling at some joke a guy was making, your arms around his neck as you sat in his lap. All he could do was watch the way his hands massaged your thigh and how you bit your lip in response, eyes half lidded. It was like watching a gruesome car crash, his stomach turning but his body frozen as you leaned into the dark haired man, pulling his lips to yours.

It was as if his legs moved on their own, marching him to where you sat. He didn’t know what came over him, he wasn’t usually one for confrontation, but suddenly he was pulling you up dragging you across the house, trying doors till he found one that was open. He hated that he was being this way, still pining for you when your actions had made it clear that he wasn’t anyone to you, but he blamed the tequila in his veins. Why else would his heart be leaping out of his chest at you scowling at him?

“What the fuck, Jeon?” you yelled, pulling your arm from his grip as he closed the door behind him.

“What are you doing?” he retorted, his voice thankfully not betraying how he was quaking inside.

“Why do you care?” you asked, and he could see how your fists were balled, your arms shaking slightly. He couldn’t help stepping closer to you, a hand gently placed on your elbow in an attempt to stop the quiver.

“Because,” he answered, a little petulant but he was stubborn and he didn’t even know why he had done what he did. Because I still love you like an idiot, a voice said at the back of his head, but he ignored it, opting to finish his sentence there. He had told you himself that he never wanted to see you again, but still he dragged you here. He hated himself, but looking at your fiery gaze and alcohol-reddened cheeks, he realized he could never hate you. No matter how much he wanted to.

“Because what?” you screamed in frustration, your hands pulling at your hair. “Why are you doing this to me? Why are you making this so hard?”

“Because,” he said, moving closer to you, his heart leaping at how you didn’t step back. He could see the tears lining your eyes, just on the edge of falling and with the music muffled through the door, he moved even closer. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was that for the first time in months he’d felt a semblance of an emotion, but his hands were cupping your face as he stared in your eyes. Your hands grasped his wrists, searing the skin, and he couldn’t hide the truth anymore.

“Because I don’t want to keep kissing people and pretending they’re you anymore,” he whispered, his lips meeting yours. 

You and him had shared kisses that felt like fireworks, explosions of wonders, but kissing you now was calming, almost serene; like he was finally home. Your lips slotted perfectly against his and it made him lose his breath. Behind the taste of liquor you’d been drinking was the familiar taste of your cherry lip tint, and the even more familiar taste of just simply you. He could never forget the perfect medley that was embedded in his head, the one he had been searching fruitlessly for a month with nameless Tinder dates. 

When you put your arms around him, he pulled you closer and it was as if nothing had changed. As if the two of you were still in his apartment kissing without reservations and it was always August 31st. But it wasn’t and as he refamiliarized himself with your mouth, his father’s voice from this morning rang inside his head, sobering him.

“Son, is this true?” 

Jungkook could see that one vein popping in his father’s forehead, the one he remembered from whenever he got a bad grade in high school or stayed out too late. He hadn’t seen it in a while but it took him back, his eyes widening in fear of a scolding.

“Is Y/N really the enemy? I thought she was on our side? What’s this about Saga?”

The enemy. He hadn’t thought of you like that but his father’s venom-filled words made sense. How else would he describe someone who strung him along, fed him lies, made him fall in love to take it all away for something as megre as monetary gain? 

It was when his father decided to scrap the game you helped him build, the one that he had been meticulously coding for months that he realized how much you took from him. His father benched him from his plans of a takeover till further notice, and Jungkook was left with nothing, no work to distract him any more. Just bitter pain.

“I can’t do this,” he breathed, pulling back, hating how his tongue came out to taste you on his lips one last time. “I can’t… I can’t be with the enemy.”

It was stupid, it was impulsive, but when the dazed look in your eyes turned into rage, Jungkook couldn’t stay in the room anymore. Turning around, he walked away. Out of the bedroom, out of the house, aimlessly roaming the street, trying to stop the way his lip wobbled.

It was what he was supposed to do, but he couldn’t help missing you all the same.

----------

The steam from the two cups of coffee flitted in the air, the smell invigorating after a sleepless night. The bleached white of the cups, tainted by a drop of the spilled beverage, matched the small table with its checkered red pattern. It was quiet except for the chatter of a few customers who rushed to grab their orders before leaving. The small cafe was almost empty because who else would be sitting and enjoying breakfast at 8am on a Tuesday?

Jungkook almost regretted agreeing to come meet you, but after how he had acted at the party, his guilt wouldn’t let him rest, forcing him to read and reread the text you had sent him. It was a little scary how he knew how you took your coffee in the morning, but hadn’t known that you were going to stab him in the back. He bit back the bitterness, however.

Hi. I would like to meet up face to face to finish off our project. You can send your assistant if you want, but after how you treated me on Saturday, I think I deserve a meeting, don’t you think so?

He read over your message again as he waited. He had contemplated sending Seungwon in his stead, but something about your tone made him rethink it. He didn’t appreciate being called out, although he was fully aware what an ass he had been, alcohol or not. The utter embarrassment he faced when he walked into his apartment to see Namjoon staring at him was enough for him to agree. He hadn’t disclosed to his friend why he was so torn up, but Namjoon was smart and didn’t need a memo to catch on. Jungkook shuddered imagining the scolding he would receive if the older man was made privy to the real reason he was so shaken up.

He took a sip of his coffee, enjoying the way the warm liquid soothed him, and then his pinkie twitched. He glared at the digit, his romanticized thoughts bothering him once again, but his reprieve was cut short by a gust of wind that cut his cheeks as the door opened. 

He couldn’t help but be a little endeared at your appearance, your figure swallowed under a large puffy coat, the fur trimmed hood atop your head and face almost hidden under the woolen scarf around your neck. He couldn’t help remembering how cold your hands always were. He wondered if your feet got cold too — if you would warm them up against his in bed. Not that he would allow himself to ever know for sure. 

Schooling his forlorn expression into a smile, he stood up, pulling the chair out for you, only to be stopped by you raising your hand towards him. 

“Don’t bother, this won’t take long,” you said, your tone colder than the snowy weather outside as you took off the hood to reveal your face, nose a bright red from the cold. Before he could say anything you were slamming a large stack of dog eared papers on the table. You handed him a few sheets of paper, the assignment topic written at the top in bolded letters. Corporate Espionage: The Grey Morality in a Digital World.

Ironic how the two of you were assigned the reason for your decoupling, as if fate was mocking you for your choices, mocking Jungkook. 

“I finished it. Feel free to edit it as you like when you submit it. I trust your judgement.”

I trust your judgement. Did you even realize how fucking stupid Jungkook felt hearing that? Maybe he should return the favour. Listen to Namjoon’s sage words and let you explain your side of the story. Perhaps it wasn’t as bad as Jungkook thought.

“Listen Y/N, can you sit down? We can talk?”

“No,” you replied harshly, pushing another, heavier stack of papers towards him. He didn’t have time to look at much other than the heading. Transfer of IP Rights. “I had my lawyer draw these up. You don’t need to worry about me being the enemy anymore, Jeon. There it is. Signed and notarized. You can have all the stupid rights for your stupid game. I’m done.”

And with that bombshell, you turned away, walking back into the cold morning, and leaving Jungkook scrambling for his thoughts. As he sat down, defeated, he read the document. You had given him the copyright to everything, from your research to the random character sketches you doodled in the margins. Even mechanics that didn’t end up in the game. Everything. 

Jungkook’s chest felt heavy, his thoughts swirling like the bile in his stomach. Someone who was using him wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t give up their claim on their idea. He stared at the mug in front of him, one with the caramel macchiato you enjoyed now cold to the touch, and realized that his ego had taken away his chance at happiness.

The cafe filled with people as he sat frozen. People laughed around him, giggling at jokes as they sipped their coffees, carefree, going in and out, but all Jungkook felt was the chills from the cold air everytime the door opened.

----------

Driving always calmed you down. The feel of the steering wheel vibrating slightly under your grip as the world passed you by made you feel invincible. As if all the troubles in the world couldn’t touch you, fading away like scenery in the periphery. But no matter how many miles you drove on the snowy highway, leaving the cafe you walked out of just now miles behind, it didn’t settle the disquiet brewing in your head. 

You had imagined the scenario of giving Jungkook those papers multiple times in the weeks they were being drafted. At first it was visions of a teary reunion and forgiven miscommunications; however, after Saturday night, those happy moments morphed into seeing Jungkook eat his words. You imagined him just as he was at the cafe — speechless and shocked, but seeing it in real life didn’t give you the satisfaction you desired. 

His face was embedded in your head as you drove the sleek empty roads. His eyes wide and lips pulled in a frown that betrayed his hurt manifested on your pupils, but it didn’t make you feel smug like you thought you would be. It hurt you to hurt him, to throw his words back at you. No matter how many times he had abandoned you, leaving him behind felt like you were stabbing your own heart and tossing it on the ground. 

It was painful. It was unsatisfying. And it was what made you immediately block him on all platforms lest your heart decide to take another hit of the cocky man who stuttered nervously when he told you he was a virgin. 

You didn’t need him. You had to do this for your own protection. If he wanted to talk to you, he had your email. It didn’t seem like he was interested in contacting you any other way anyways.

----------

Over the last few weeks, Jungkook had poured over the detailed documents you had provided him countless times, reading them before bed like some sort of masochistic bedtime story. His father had approved the game after seeing it, handing over Jungkook’s rough prototype to the developers after a quick short meeting. He had praised him for managing to acquire such a comprehensive transfer of ownership for free, and proudly used it as an example of his leadership, and Jungkook accepted it. He accepted it because he was a coward, too scared to admit that the price was losing you.

When he showed Namjoon what you had done, he was scolded. Namjoon rarely ever got angry with him but to see his jaw ticking as he berated Jungkook’s choices would be forever imprinted in him. 

“You have to apologize, Jungkook,” Namjoon advised sternly after skimming the elaborate set of papers. The way his eyebrows knitted made Jungkook uneasy, on edge as if he was witnessing a ticking bomb. The guilt that had started swirling in his gut was flamed by the older man’s response. He had expected Namjoon to offer his life philosophies to him, maybe some insightful words, but this blunt demand didn’t help the way Jungkook’s heart kept splintering everytime he remembered your words.

I’m done.

“She said she was done hyung… It doesn’t matter anymore. I can’t—” Jungkook’s defeated tone didn’t help quell Namjoon’s exasperation, instead making him interrupt his excuses with a flurried tongue, shaking his head with disappointment.

“Of course it fucking matters! The game’s going to be worth what? Millions? So why would she give up her share? Who the fuck would give up millions just to clear a misunderstanding?”

“I don’t know…” He did know. He knew no one would do that. He knew that the only reason you had done so was because your hate for him surpassed anything you could tangibly gain. There was a tiny voice in his head that told him that maybe the reason you had signed everything over wasn’t because you hated him. Maybe it was for the opposite reason, but then your voice would smother that thought.

I’m done.

“Yes, you do. You can’t keep running away when things get hard. You say you love her? You want to be at her side? Then you need to earn it, put your pride aside and actually listen to her.”

It seemed that those were the last words Namjoon would impart on him as he left the room. He didn’t even leave him Gureum for comfort and Jungkook couldn’t help wondering if perhaps that signified how upset he was with his decisions. But sitting in his living room, courage had never felt as elusive.

Jungkook sighed, rubbing his temples as he tried to comprehend the dry notes on the strategy some overpriced consultant had presented him in order to help Jaunty Games “cut the fat”, but no matter how hard he tried, the words blurred together and swirled, indecipherable. He groaned loudly as he tried to wrestle his focus away from you and back on to the page in front of him. It didn’t matter much since the only one to hear him would be himself as they echoed back through his empty office.

Defeated, he stood up, walking to the window and peering into the bustling streets. He watched the people below scatter to and from Samseong Station like little ants racing to their nests, feeling a little claustrophobic suddenly despite his extremely large, minimally decorated office. He unbuttoned his collar, the familiar rush of adrenaline shortening his breaths before he followed his usual routine. Staring at his hands, he counted his breaths, willing them to slow down and deepen. He flexed his hands to stop the shaking, his tattoos acting as an anchor as he felt himself start to calm down. 

Walking to his desk, he sat down, finally catching his bearings a little, and just in time too.

“Mr Jeon, I have the reports from the analysis department you asked for,” Seungwon announced as he breezed into the space after two quick knocks. Jungkook only hummed in response, not trusting his voice to not waver after such a close call with his demons. But Seungwon had practically raised Jungkook, and for him it was easy to recognize the signs - the beads of sweat on his forehead, the empty gaze, the overly controlled breathing, and the hands, clenching and unclenching.

He made his way around the desk, squatting in front of the younger man despite the way he averted his gaze, his cheeks flushed. He reached for the Newton’s Cradle on his desk, pulling the first metal sphere and watching carefully as Jungkook started concentrating on the movement and the sound emanating from the toy. 

Jungkook felt a wave of calm rush over him as he timed his breaths to the sounds, finally feeling fully in control of himself, even though he hated his helper.

“Jungkook, you’re okay,” Seungwon assured, repeating the phrase again and again, peppering it with praises for doing well. Jungkook couldn’t help softening at the attention from the former fatherly figure.

“I’m fine now. Thank you unc- Mr. Cha,” Jungkook quickly corrected himself. Although he had patched things up with his mother after the big reveal months ago, he still held a grudge against her boyfriend, his betrayal much larger in his mind. But he saw Seungwon’s face fall at the cold formal tone he had adopted as he started to walk away, and Jungkook realized that perhaps that was his biggest fault — shutting people out. Unlike Namjoon who did the same, Jungkook didn’t physically run away. He did it by building an impenetrable wall around himself. A wall embedded with sharp icicles and jagged razors, refusing to let anyone but a selected few cross, and easily tossing away those who wronged him. 

So for the first time he decided to change his patterns, not by letting the wall fall, but by opening a door. It was about time he heard Seungwon’s side of the story.

“Why did you do it?” he asked, a little too blunt, his thoughts still taking a moment to restart. Seungwon smiled warmly at him, making his way back towards the desk, taking a seat opposite the CEO in training.

“It wasn’t malicious, Jungkook. You know that right?” he explained, the wrinkles next to his eyes becoming prominent as he looked at him softly. Seungwon didn’t know where to begin but he didn’t want to lose the opportunity he was provided. “My whole life I thought I would end up alone. I was ready for it… to love from afar… to catch glimpses of moments that would never be mine. I never thought your mother would ever return the flame I held for her.”

“I had given up but fate had other plans. Sometimes love fades, and sometimes it perseveres. I have loved Kyungsoo for thirty years, but somehow after all that time she found her way to me,” he said, his voice softly carrying through the quiet of the room. His eyes met Jungkook’s widened ones before he continued. “We never planned it, you know? It just happened. And I’m so sorry I hurt you… I’m sorry, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook may be someone who held grudges, but he couldn’t help empathizing with the man. He could choose to paint him as a villain, waiting and watching for cracks in his parent’s relationship for thirty years, but despite all his efforts over the past few months, he was still a hopeless romantic at heart. He thought about you and wondered if he could do the same, agonizingly watch you from afar for decades. It must have felt like torture, each smile and exchange like little droplets landing on same spot on his forehead, an innocuous but unrelenting pain with no end in sight. 

His eyes watered without his consent, and before he knew it he was standing up and making his way to Seungwon, hugging him, the walls once again toppling to welcome him inside. He missed the way Seungwon teared up as well, grinning as he returned his embrace. Jungkook didn’t have many qualms about cancelling the rest of his afternoon to repair his relationship with Seungwon as he shared his love story, decades in the making.

It’s odd when we learn that our parents and parent figures are flawed, perhaps even more so than ourselves. It is a cognitive dissonance that shatters the reality we had relied on to be true. We idolize our caregivers, often putting them on a pedestal, never really seeing them as humans capable of making human mistakes. 

When Jungkook listened to the stories Seungwon shared, it was like watching his memories from a perspective he didn’t fathom before, going from first person to third. He remembered the times Seungwon would take care of him as a kid. He never felt like his father was absent from his life because he always had his beloved uncle Seungwon to battle him in Mario Kart and attend his baseball games, but as an adult he finally removed the rose-coloured lenses and realized that he wasn’t just absent from his life, he was absent from his mother’s too. A new, exponentially growing company demands all the attention of its leader, and he imagined how his mother felt being left alone all those years.

To Jungkook, Kyungsoo was warm, nurturing, and encouraging, but in Seungwon’s eyes she was resilient, strong, and brave — brave enough to step away from the seesaw of a relationship where the highs never felt enough and where the momentum needed to escape the lows required an immeasurable amount of effort. Jungkook liked that description of his mother. Liked hearing about how smart she was, and how capable of greatness she was from the man in love with her — the man who did nothing but appreciate her from afar. 

It led to a smile on his face. He had been bitter for so long that the purity of their connection warmed his heart, shedding light on the seed of hope planted there. Jungkook had thought he was naive for believing that love was everlasting, but hearing Seungwon’s words he thought his present self was even more naive. How could love be a lie when it was the only thing worth fighting for? Only thing worth watching for decades?

After three cups of coffee, Jungkook left the office with a strategy much better than any he had read all day — a strategy to ask for your forgiveness, even if he didn’t deserve it. Seungwon had somehow nonchalantly shared the most important piece of advice he had ever heard. Advice that chased away his cowardice and left only hope.

People make mistakes. People are flawed, but people are real. Whatever idea of you he had developed through his overthinking wasn’t worth not trying to fight for you. He could spend thirty years watching your life, or he could take his chances.

He grinned as his pinky twitched against the steering wheel.

—————

You steeled yourself with a deep breath, your heartbeat thrumming in your ears. You could feel the nerves shaking your legs, and if it weren’t for the fact that you were sitting, your knees would’ve surely buckled. Plastering a smile on your face, you squinted in the bright lights illuminating you, the din of the room becoming an afterthought. 

“So, Y/N, we know you started off as a streamer for ChampCon, how did you end up where you are now? Head of Strategy at Saga. That’s big! Did you always want to be creating games?”

You chuckled into the mic the way your public speaking classes had taught you to gauge the volume of the microphone. You were happy for the lights because they hid the audience. Speaking to a thousand people was daunting, but the setup of the panel had the feel of being in someone’s living room. The little plant on the round table was calming, even distracting the fact that it was actually a camera that was projecting the view on the large screen behind you.

“Thanks, Brianna. Honestly, this might sound a bit odd but I think I just stumbled onto this field. I started Twitch to learn how to play ChampCon. Before that I was very much a console only person,” you chuckled as the crowd laughed and jokingly booed. You waved your hands, trying to seem confident despite your nerves. “I know. I know! You’ve converted me! But yeah, once I started playing I kind of fell in love with the game and I just got obsessed with knowing all the mechanics, the artwork, how everything worked. For the first time, I was passionate about an industry. After years of searching, I think game development just found me. Like fate.”

You smiled amicably at the invisible crowd as the host asked other women on the panel about their journey. It felt odd sitting at a table of women who had launched their own games independently, or had competed in worldwide championships. By comparison, you had only created a Youtube channel where you sat in your room commenting on games someone else created. You hadn’t even started working at Saga yet!

However, you bit back your imposter syndrome, reminding yourself that you deserved to be there — that you were handpicked to share your views on gaming culture. The hour passed by in a blur and when the crowd applauded you could finally breathe. Your group was led off stage to a holding area, essentially a comfortable room in the back where lunch was served and the conference main stage played on a giant television.

If someone had told you even two months ago that you would be in Los Angeles at E3, one of the world’s largest gaming conventions, in a room full of amazing women from Jade Raymond to Geguri, you would’ve laughed in their face and asked them to take their medication. But here you were, not as a spectator or a mere attendee, but a speaker, starstruck by people knowing your name and your job. It felt as if you’d been thrust into a daydream, waiting to wake up any moment.

Settling onto one of the tables with some of the other speakers, you dug into the meal, conversation flowing seamlessly. Until your attention was diverted to the television when you heard your name. The whole table followed you, turning to pay attention to the screen, where no one other than Jeon Jungkook was speaking on stage.

Dressed in casual ripped jeans and a t-shirt with his company’s logo, he seemed to effortlessly command the large stage. He held the microphone easily as he gestured to the large screens behind him that were now displaying the game the two of you had worked to develop.

“Guys let me tell you, Y/N Y/L/N might seem like a casual streamer, but she is an absolute genius among us mere folks!” The crowd laughed roaringly at his joke and your face heated up. What was he doing? Why was he up there giving you credit? You gave him all the rights!

While Jungkook continued joking on stage, showing off the mobile game, and assuring people that it would be launched at the end of the year, you were barely paying attention. All you could see was the logos at the bottom of the name of the game. Rise of the Guardian, a JauntyxSaga collaboration.

You hadn’t spoken to Jungkook in three months, and it seemed that in that short amount of time Jungkook had not only managed to get the game developed, marketed and announced, but had also somehow managed to have his biggest rival come on board as a collaborator. It made you a little dizzy to think about how he had managed to take what was essentially doodles and scribbles and turned them into a real life video game. And although you heard him clearly give you much more credit than you deserved, you kind of wished you had been a part of the process. Another smaller voice in your head reminded you that you wished you had been with him during the process.

Before you could dwell too much, your eyes fell on Jungkook, in the flesh, as he was ushered in after his presentation.

You’ve always hated the dramatics in the movies where the music would muffle and lights would dim to show the lead staring at their love interest, but in that moment it was exactly like that. As if time had decided to stand still so the two of you could have a moment to yourselves. So your eyes could roam his features and get reacquainted with the sharpness of his jaw, the softness of his big eyes, the little mole under his lip. 

He smiled at you, a little bashful, as he scratched the side of his cheek, picking at an invisible hair. When you didn’t make a move, he made himself a plate from the buffet before hesitating a little, eyeing the open chair next to you. 

The past three months were hard. It was stupid how much you missed him even though you had been apart longer than you had been together. You had blocked him on everything and that helped keep your sanity a little. Being away from him, you had forgotten the hold his cute buck toothed smile had on you and before long you were forgoing all the promises you made to yourself and motioning to the chair next to him. 

He eagerly jumped at the opportunity, making himself comfortable, his eyes crinkled in glee. 

“Hi,” he said, his eyes never leaving yours, taking your breath away a little. 

“Hi,” you replied with a smile.

The two of you didn’t exchange any other words, only stealing glances as you ate.

—————

There was a little speck on the pristine hotel elevator doors that was bothering Jungkook. He could see his entire reflection, from the too big trunks he had stolen from Namjoon to the towel he had draped over his shoulder, but right on his forehead there was a smudge. It seemed like a watermark, and it was a little jarring to look at so he decided to fiddle with his phone instead, checking the chaos that had ensued on Twitter after his announcement that afternoon.

There were at least three hashtags relating to the announcement trending, but only one caught his eye - JungkookxTiger??? - where users were speculating and quoting Jungkook’s earlier gushing over his ex. Perhaps he had been a little heavy handed with his grand gesture… perhaps that was why you didn’t really make an effort to talk to him at lunch. 

Jungkook shook his head as the elevator doors opened to the pool, trying to shake out the negative thoughts, reminding himself that reconciliation wasn’t his aim, just an apology. He wanted to redeem himself in your eyes, and three months of self-reflection and three appointments with Namjoon’s therapist had taught him to be open to the possibility of you never giving him another chance. He was okay with that, even if he knew he would always regret losing you. But if that’s what made you happy, he would gladly take the heartbreak.

He was lost in his thoughts when he reached the pool, dropping his towel on a chaise lounge, but all those thoughts froze when he reached the whirlpools at the end of the pool. He wanted to strip away the exhaustion of the day by relaxing in the steaming water. It seemed that you had the same idea.

“Umm… hi,” Jungkook floundered, not knowing if the awkwardness was in his head or not, but feeling an intense need to rectify it. “Sorry! I’m not following you I swear! I can leave if you want,” he added, kicking himself internally for being so nervous. The fact that you were sitting in the hot tub in a red bikini with your skin flushed from the heat didn’t help his nerves at all.

“It’s a public space, Jeon,” you waved, smiling a little as you leaned back and closed your eyes. Your smile did nothing to quell his racing pulse as he tentatively got in the pool and settled across from you.

“So JauntyxSaga, huh?” you commented casually, Jungkook’s gaze snapping from where it was fixated on his hands to your face. Your expression was neutral and it made him uneasy, wanting so badly to rewind time back to when the two of you easily laughed together.

“Um.. yeah. Is that okay?”

“You don’t need to ask me, Jeon. It’s your company,” you shrugged, and your nonchalance made him want to explain himself. He felt as if the window of opportunity to get into your good graces was quickly closing.

“Yeah. But are you okay with me saying it was your idea… I wanted to reach out to you, but I also kind of wanted it to be a surprise?”

“Consider me surprised,” you chuckled and he didn’t know if he should be relieved or worried, worrying his lip with his teeth.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve asked right? I just wanted to give you credit…”

“Why? Ideas don’t matter… execution does. I just came up with the concept, you made it happen.”

“Because you matter,” he muttered, apologizing when you responded with a sigh of his name. He didn’t know what to say, so he just sat there, stewing in his regrets.

“I’m going to go,” you said, and he watched you get out and wrap a towel around you, months of pep talks going down the drain as his throat closed around any words his brain could muster. However, it seemed that he didn’t need the courage, because before you left you turned around.

“Wanna get some coffee when we’re back in Seoul?”

“Yes,” Jungkook’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “I’d like that… a lot.”

“Cool. I’ll text you sometime.”

You waved, turning away from him, and he couldn’t help but grin like an idiot.

----------

You didn’t know why you had asked Jungkook for coffee that night and why five days later you were fidgeting with the mug of black coffee in front of you in a small cafe near campus. Call it an impulse or longing, but as you waited for Jungkook to arrive, the nerves you felt in the pool were back, swirling in your belly and erupting into butterflies when you saw him walk through the door.

It wasn’t a reunion that songs would be written about — it was stilted, painfully awkward. But it was real. After chasing him down all that time, it was bizarre that after what seemed like a lifetime of radio silence, he was there. Right in front of you, sitting in a distractingly well-fitted suit.

Two people could have a lot in common, but when so much miscommunication had overshadowed those similarities, was it even possible to partake in a normal conversation? While you sipped your coffee, you wished you could erase the past, go back to when it was easy, when all he had to do was give you one of his brilliant smiles and you would return it with a kiss. 

“How’s work?” Jungkook asked, clearing his throat before beginning, as if the question he had asked required much deliberation, and you wished he would just get to the point. That you could skip all the small talk, and move on to the apologies. A voice in your head reminded you of the way you felt when you sat on those plastic chairs in the hospital, the way it seemed your heart was being slowly carved out of your chest while he chose to ghost you. And just like that, you didn’t want to be there anymore despite it being your own idea.

“Haven’t started yet. I start after graduation next month,” you replied, the chill in your voice complementing your stormy thoughts.

“Oh, that makes sense.” He fidgeted with the mug. He moved it from one hand to the other, the liquid splashing but not yet spilling. It made you anxious. He bit his lip, eyebrows furrowed, eyes on the table, when he asked you the next question. “You excited to be done with school?”

“Sure. You?” Why was this so hard? Why was just conversing like humans so taxing? Perhaps it was inevitable. Maybe you had fallen into this weird whirlwind of a short-lived romance, one that wasn’t meant to last. Maybe it was for the best that things had fallen apart before they got too serious. But if they weren’t serious, why were you still agonizing over it months later? Why was it taking you longer to forget him than it took you to get over relationships that lasted years?

“Umm… yes. Yeah! Finally in the real world you know… Real people, real problems,” Jungkook said, his volume almost a little too low to be heard over the din of the cafe.

 He kept moving his mug. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. From the tattooed hand that would hold yours to the bare one that would caress your jaw when he kissed you. You couldn’t concentrate on whatever canned question he asked you, couldn’t even hear it, your eyes following the brilliant white dishware, like you were watching a tennis match. Till you couldn’t help yourself, your hand reaching out and stopping the mug, spilling the coffee. 

You didn’t even feel the few drops that landed on your fingers, still around the mug, but Jungkook was in a sudden frenzy, grabbing napkins and stopping the liquid from reaching the edge of the table. He tended to you next, taking your hand before you could pull it back and wiping it clean, examining it intensely for any injuries. 

You wanted to tell yourself it was uncomfortable — that him holding your hand once again made you want anything other than wanting to grasp it tighter. But you were never too good at lying to yourself, so you let him linger longer than your rationality would have allowed you. Let him gaze at you pleadingly, wordlessly asking for the same thing you wanted. Don’t let go, please.

“I miss you,” he murmured, a little anguished, his hand shaking in yours, his eyes on your fingers as they twitched subconsciously.

“I miss you, too,” you dared to reply despite the walls around your heart. His gaze snapped to yours at your words and you could read the battle within them. “But I don’t know if we can ever go back.”

“I… I don’t want to go back,” Jungkook said, suddenly determined, his hand confidently grasping yours tighter. “I want to be better. Make us better. Please?”

“Jungkook… I don’t know.”

“We can be friends again? That can work right?” His tone didn’t seem like he was begging, but you knew he was, his body stiff in anticipation. Could you survive giving him another chance?

“We were never really friends,” you remarked, a small smile stretching your lips, as you thought about the stupid arguments the two of you would have in class, almost a lifetime ago. “Frenemies at best.”

He smiled at that, relaxing a little at your joke, squeezing your fingers in his palm before letting go. 

The conversation after was still a little awkward, but you didn’t overthink it, refusing to settle the blush that decorated your cheekbones every time his knee brushed against yours. And when he asked you if you would like to grab dinner together, you agreed. Maybe you could’ve been better to him too. Maybe the two of you could be better to each other. 

After all, you wouldn’t know unless you tried.

----------

Jungkook kept glancing at you, despite telling himself to keep his eyes on the road. He couldn’t help it, not when the sun fading over the horizon bathed you in a glow that he wished he could memorize. Not when you softly sang to the radio, nodding your head to the mellow beat and smiling at the cheesy lyrics proclaiming love everlasting. Not when all he wanted to do was hold your hand again.

He hadn’t even dared to touch you after the day you got coffee, but after three decidedly less uncomfortable hangouts, he had finally asked you on a date. A date you had agreed to, despite all his demons reminding him that he was too unworthy to even ask.

The first hangout was dinner at a small diner where you told him about your parents and your childhood. He didn’t know much about your life. Somehow in the month the two of you had been together, it had been glazed over. But he was happy to hear about it, ecstatic to learn what shaped you. He always knew you were determined, headstrong, but hearing about how you were bullied as a child over thrifted clothes till you decided to take up Taekwondo to fight back, made him gain more insight into you. You were always a fighter, fighting for yourself, your beliefs, even him when he treated you worse than all those bullies.

On your second hangout, he told you about Candy — an unrequited love that he realized was never a love at all, not the way it should be. You cut him off when he started to apologize about kissing her, telling him that it was okay. He bit away his guilt, letting you distract him with a game of Mario Kart. He would try to apologize again today. He would try to apologize for everything today.

For your last hangout, the two of you went to an amusement park, and between the laughs and cotton candy he felt a lump in his throat. Your hair flew in the wind when you drove the bumper car towards him, glee lighting up your face, your giggles loud and carefree as your car collided with his. If he was a cartoon his eyes would have turned into hearts at that moment. He thought he loved you, but it seemed that every little moment he spent with you increased his feelings tenfold, like before he was only exploring the surface of Marianas Trench. He couldn’t wait to dive deeper, turn his lungs to dust if needed. It was the courage he needed to ask you on date.

“Our first date’s on a boat?” you asked, mirth lacing your skepticism, and he couldn’t help but chuckle as he pulled into the marina.

“I thought it’d be nice to talk somewhere new,” he replied, his voice not betraying the sudden anxiety that invaded his thoughts. Perhaps taking you on a boat to make amends was too on the nose. “I got you those sandwiches you like from Hongdae.”

The times Jungkook and you had met before this date were amazing, but they were still tinged with guilt. Fear that the delicate thread that held your moments together would perish at the lightest mention of the past was ingrained in you. You didn’t want to think about the Jungkook who you hurt and who hurt you, you just wanted to exist in this precarious bubble of friends that ignored the tension in the room for longer. Because even if it was uncomfortable at times, at least it was there. You didn’t know if you were brave enough to test whether it would pop once the two of you really talked. You weren’t brave enough to reflect on how you’d react if your days went back to being void of his presence.

But when Jungkook smiled, his upper lip disappearing to bare his teeth and his eyes squinting from how high his cheeks got, you found the courage to smile back, to step out of the car and onto a sailboat, sappily named SS True Love.

The boat seemed much lower than what Jungkook’s social status would predict, a simple navy blue hull with white trimmings. The hardwood deck only had room enough for a blanket at the bow, the rest taken up by the cockpit. As Jungkook set up the sails, you set up the late afternoon lunch, the wind caressing you once you had settled to watch Jungkook move around with ease.

It seemed that Thursday afternoon wasn’t a popular time for a boat ride, your boat the only one rippling the calm river. The Seoul skyline never looked better than it did from the deck of Jungkook’s sailboat, the scent of freshwater making the crowded city look almost serene. As the sun dipped closer to the horizon behind you, the city was already coming alive, the mismash of lights visible even if it wasn’t dark yet. It looked almost fragile, a line of silver icicles reaching to the skies and vibrating with fireflies, capturing the remaining rays of the sun.

Jungkook anchored in the middle of the river and settled next to you after turning on some music. The melodies carried on the wind, embellishing the silence between the two of you as you ate, soaking in the remaining sun as it set. That’s when you noticed the lines of fairy lights on the railing, their fluorescent glow warming you, melting the lead from your tongue.

“Do you want some more wine?” Jungkook asked, holding the bottle of red he had procured to go with the prosciutto sandwiches you adored, ones that were out of the way for him but he had bought anyways. Just because you mentioned once you liked them. Watching him pour the wine carefully in his glass, his hair falling into his eyes, you felt your heart flutter. You didn’t want to let him go. You wanted to hold on to him, to hold him so tight your muscles would quiver with fatigue.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Saga,” you blurted out, cursing yourself for your lack of finesse. Jungkook froze, his eyebrows disappearing behind his bangs as he stared at you open-mouthed. However, now that you had started, the word vomit continued, your hands flailing in front of you. 

“To be honest, I got interviewed before we even started talking and when it became official I was under an NDA and so I couldn’t tell you and to be honest I totally completely forgot about it. Wait, that sounds like an excuse! I didn’t forget forget, I just didn’t pay attention to it because I was scared about a big change and so my brain decided to not think about it and-”

“You didn’t have to tell me anything. I should’ve trusted you,” he interrupted, his fingers pulling at the thread poking from the rip on his jeans. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest, barrelling at a speed unfathomable as he recalled how he made every wrong decision, from leaving you on his birthday to ghosting you to being a drunken asshole. But most of all he recalled the broken way you looked at him at the hospital when he spat venom into your wounds. He would’ve never talked to himself after that but you did, because much like your username, you were a tiger, fighting for what’s yours. He belonged to you after all, had since the first time you crashed into him, seamlessly falling into his arms as if he was made to catch you. 

His regret lined his eyes, cascading slowly to his jaw in a single stream that clogged his sinuses and cracked his voice as he spoke. “I should’ve trusted you. I’m so, so sorry, Y/N.”

Like all the times you had mirrored his smiles, you mirrored his tears too. 

“I think I ruined us,” you sniffled, fingers wiping at his cheekbones, and the sparks your touch left powered his arms to cling around you and pull you to his chest. You could hear the hammering of his heart, your mind reintroduced to the scent you had almost forgotten, despite craving.

“No, I did,” he replied, adamant even through his whispers. “I was so mean to you. I’m so sorry, Tiger. I don’t deserve you.”

“You were a little mean,” you joked, pulling away from where you were buried in his chest and cupping his face in your hands, smiling at his bashful, melancholic whine. “But it’s okay. No one deserves anyone, we choose.”

“You shouldn’t choose me,” Jungkook lamented, his glassy eyes reflecting the light around you, even larger than usual as they stared into yours. His hands on your waist gripped you tighter, regardless. “No matter how much I want you to,” he added in a whisper, barely audible over the sounds of the water.

“But that’s why I do,” you replied simply, wiping his tears once again, only for more to appear as he hid from you, his face finding its home in the crook of your neck. You held him tight and Jungkook wished he never had to leave your embrace, to never know a world where your warmth didn’t surround him. He knew he was going to wear his heart on his sleeve this evening, but he never imagined that you would accept it, keep it safe next to yours and drown his senses with your comfort. 

He didn’t dare move from your arms as you stroked his hair and the two of you talked about your times apart. Till the pain you had caused each other didn’t feel as fresh anymore, till it faded into a throb that reminded you of your mistakes but didn’t hinder you. There was a certain poetry to being in your arms, and Jungkook wished he could immortalize it. It was the moment where his soul finally felt at ease, the dark sky of the evening a blanket tucking him into a dream that he thought he’d never achieve.

He left your arms to guide the boat back to the docks, but couldn’t bring himself to let go of your hand as he drove you home. He never wanted to let go, afraid that he would wake up back in his empty room, cold and alone. That bitter fear manifested in a plea, overlapping with one of yours as he walked you to your apartment.

“Can I stay for a bit?”

“Come over?”

The two of you stared at each other before bursting into laughter, the tension dissolving in your combined joy, effervescent. When the laughter faded, the stare remained, his eyes looking into yours with the gentleness you had come to rediscover, like his pupils were melting with every photon bouncing off your skin. It erased your hesitation as you leaned up on your toes to place your lips on his for a quick fleeting second, before giggling.

Jungkook felt his entire body blush from the simple brush of your lips, and he wanted to cry again, his reservoir far from empty. His fingers touched his lips, almost in disbelief, but the tingles that radiated from them made him believe it was real. Your chuckles brought him out of his haze and before you even knew it was happening, he pulled you towards him with the hand still attached to yours, landing his lips on yours. 

He knew he was being a little too needy, his mouth a little too sloppy as it molded to yours, but when he gently laid his hand on your neck, he could feel your pulse galloping in time with his, and it made a whimper escape his lips. You captured it with yours, caressing it with your tongue, coaxing more of its friends to build a symphony you adored, till the grin on your face made kissing him difficult.

“You whimpered first,” you whispered, your nose scrunching at his groan, and you pinched his cheek before turning around to unlock the door. But Jungkook had gotten a taste of the paradise he thought he would never see again so his arms wrapped around your waist, his chest to your back and his nose buried in your hair. He inhaled the jasmine, his eyes closing in content, as you all but dragged him inside the apartment.

“It’s not fair,” he complained, shutting the door with his foot, his lips kissing anywhere he could reach, your cheek, your eyebrow, your jaw, your neck. “You’re a goddess and I’m helpless.”

Your giggles gave birth to the butterflies that fluttered in his stomach and turned to confetti in his chest, and soon he was turning you around, kissing your lips, tasting the cherry tint that adorned them. It was muscle memory, the way his tongue caressed yours, gentle and hungry in equal measure, the way his hands grabbed your thighs till your legs were around his waist, their warmth fanning the fire growing within him. He held you tight, grateful for his strength because in that moment he wanted nothing more than you wrapping yourself around him, your chest against his, your arms around his neck, locking his lips to yours.

He blindly followed your instructions to your bed, his lips never leaving your skin, even when they migrated to your neck, where they suckled. He knew he reached your bed when it hit his shin, the pain radiating from the bone a mere afterthought to how you looked lying in front of him, flushed and breathless.

He climbed on top of you, slotting himself between your legs and devouring your lips once again. “I missed you,” he murmured between kisses, his voice just a vehicle for his heavy breaths. “I missed you so much.”

He kissed you again, but you held his face between your hands, stopping him momentarily. You wanted him, wanted him more than anything, but your heart needed a little more assurance, more than his searing kisses and the adoration dripping from his eyes.

“Promise me you won’t leave again,” you pleaded, words a little too weak for your liking, but it was the best you could with the way you felt, as if you were on the edge of floating away. 

The tears that Jungkook’s lust had hidden away returned as his lip quivered. He hated the little wobble in your voice, the desperation dripping from your words, but it was ‘again’ that echoed in his head, reminding him of the mistakes he had made. How he had broken your trust under the guise of revenge. Reminded him that he had screamed at his father for abandoning his love, for not fighting for it, when he had done the same based on a headline. He didn’t know if words would ever be able to convey his regret, to convey his gratitude for another chance with you.

He whined your name, as he fell next to you, landing on his back and covering his face in shame, mumbled apologies breaking your heart.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, refusing you to let you pull his hands away from his face. You didn’t want his regret, his sorrow, you had only wanted assurance, just a few words to push your insecurities back into the dark. Straddling his waist, you ran your hands up his shirt, till they were over his, and bent down to kiss them, pecking the skin again and again till you coaxed away the palms covering his features.

“No more crying, Kookie,” you cooed, the nickname foreign on your tongue but something you’d been resisting from calling him ever since he ate the horrendous cookies you had baked from him. You should’ve used it earlier because the way Jungkook’s face lit up made you warm. His eyes peered at you from behind his dewy lashes, and his mouth pulled in a shy pout that made you want to put him in your pocket.

“Kookie?” he sniffled.

“Can’t I have a cute name for my boyfriend?” You forgot your earlier fears, your mind fixated on how you had never felt affection like this for someone, wanting to challenge them and protect them, all at the same moment.

“Boyfriend?” he asked, awe lacing his words with wonder.

“Want to be my boyfriend, Kookie?” you giggled, pulling his hands fully away from his face, lacing your fingers with his as they landed next to his head.

“Yes please,” he said softly, his jaw tipping upwards, lips meeting yours halfway in a languid kiss that seemed to go on forever. His hands squeezed yours as you extended them above his head to lay your chest against his, deepening the kiss till it stole your breath and kept it hostage next to Jungkook’s.

When your lips parted, your forehead remained glued with his, as did your eyes, crossing as they memorized each speck in his irises, the rich dark chocolate melting into the ebony of his pupils. He nuzzled his nose against yours, stealing a few kisses.

He didn’t know if it was the lights in the room or the glow in the chest that made you look so ethereal, your hands warm in his as your hair cocooned the two of you in a moment he thought would never come. He never liked crying, especially in front of others, but it was like all his emotions were on the surface bubbling up till they had no choice but to escape as moisture from his lids. 

When you kissed him again it felt like the first time, when he lost the concept of time and space, his world shifting to a slate bursting in bright colours. The pink of the blush of his cheeks, the blue of the bed sheets below him, the orange of the specks behind his eyes, the red of the blood rushing through his veins at breakneck speed, the purple of his love bursting through his soul. An amalgam of shades that launched the little moans from his lips to yours and captured the sounds you reciprocated. He couldn’t hold it back anymore when your hands left his to cradle his face, to pull at his hair, to unbutton his shirt. 

“I love you,” he moaned when your kisses left his mouth on their journey to his jaw to his neck. “I love you so much, Y/N. Is that okay?”

You were taken aback by his timid confession, by the way his lip quivered with emotion, the way his glassy eyes looked at you with expectation. Whenever any man had uttered the same phrase to you in the past, it had been laced with confidence, with an expectation of gratitude, but Jungkook was pure — an innocent exclamation of love, spoken just because he couldn’t hold it anymore. It was brave — he was brave — and it made you the same, putting words to an emotion you were too afraid to even think about. 

“I love you too,” you whispered and Jungkook grinned wide before promptly breaking into a sob, holding you close and burying his nose in your chest as he sat up. You held his head, stroking this hair till his grip around your waist loosened a little and he looked at you. 

“Thank you,” he muttered against your skin, his tone painted with reverence, looking small despite being much larger than you, his arms clinging to you tighter. “I never thought I’d ever find you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Thought I wouldn’t ever find anyone who’d love me back,” he giggled a little deliriously and you couldn’t help but kiss him, spilling your affection into him, and Jungkook thought he was the luckiest man to ever exist when you told him you loved him again and again.

With each kiss, you loosened one of his buttons till his shirt was hanging only on his arms and your lips were painting mosaics of roses on his collarbones, his chest. He could feel his breaths getting heavier, but his desire for you was stronger than his need to breathe, and so he was unzipping your dress and pulling it off your body, silently congratulating himself for figuring out that it zipped from the side. 

When he saw you sitting on him in just your panties, he felt like he was going short-circuit, like the two of you were in an abyss that housed only your bodies floating through infinity. He captured your lips again, harder than ever before, his hands grasping any and everywhere, till you were rolling your hips against him in time with how he rolled his tongue against yours. With every swivel of your hips he grew needier, needier for you to consume him, to carve him under your skin, till he was spinning you to the bed and hovering above you.

It felt like ecstasy in your veins to have Jungkook above you, but you were greedy for more. Your hands traced down his back, feeling each muscle as he shivered against you, nipping at your neck. When you reached his belt, you made quick work of undoing it, unbuttoning his pants, and cupping him over his underwear. He moaned against you before latching on to your nipple, his tongue flicking the bud as he suckled, eliciting loud moans of your own. 

Before long, you had him naked, your hands working the precum down his length so slowly Jungkook thought he would lose his mind. He told you as much as he moved lower down your body, removing your panties as well as your hand from his cock so he could lift your legs to his shoulders and devour you.

He had only tasted you once before, but he had been dreaming about it since — the musky scent clouding his senses and the sweet sour taste exploding on his taste buds. He thought he would cum just from the first lick but he held on, egged on by your mewls as your fingers gripped his hair and your hips rode his face. When he sucked on your clit, you yelled a chorus of his name and he got brave enough to slide a finger in, his eyes rolling back at the warmth.

You couldn’t help the way your legs shook next to his head, your brain unable to comprehend how amazing he felt, and when his one finger became two you were almost at the end of your control, your walls spasming as he increased his pace at your request. Unlike the first time, Jungkook was focused on your clit, and it was the quick flicking of his tongue that made you come undone with loud expletives and bursts of orange behind your eyes. When you pulled at his hair, he quickly got the cue, his lips moving to your thigh where he gently made the skin bloom with the edge of his teeth before travelling up your body till he was kissing you.

“Can I...?” he asked, his voice airy and eyes pleading, grinding against your thigh in a way that seemed entirely unintentional, and you couldn’t help the giddiness that exploded through you, making your heart blossom florals.

“Are you sure you want to?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” Jungkook answered, determined, kissing your breath away before a softer “Please?” escaped his lips. You had no choice but to oblige because you too, like him, hadn’t been more sure of anything else in your life.

Guiding him to slowly fill you up, you held his hand as you enveloped him. He couldn’t help the cry of your name that bubbled from deep within his chest when he was fully within you. Nothing had ever felt so extraordinary, so indescribably perfect, as he buried his face in your neck, the soothing scent of your perfume, jasmine and lilies, calming him and making him feral all at once. He knew he was shaking, his senses lighting up with every slow caress you granted him, and when you finally gave him permission to move he let his instincts take over.

He always thought he’d be bad at this, that he would lose it the moment he entered you, but his desire to never let this moment end was stronger. Tasting the salt on your skin he moved his hips faster so he wouldn’t have to leave you for too long. You kissed the side of his head and whispered adorations, and it was nothing short of heavenly, like the cosmos had worked together to ensure that the two of you melded perfectly. This moment, this bed, was the singularity pulling him into you, leaving him helpless and happy to become a part of you, now and forever. He never wanted this to end.

“Cum for me, Kookie,” you whispered, your voice chocolate smooth and all too enticing as he lost himself, spilling inside you with a groan that reverberated through the room. He didn’t dare leave your comfort, collapsing on top of you, relishing the way your legs crossed behind his back and your free hand slowly soothed him by tracing warm patterns on his back.

“I love you,” he murmured yet again, wishing he was a poet that could arrange words in a way that was less generic, but when you said the same words back to him, he realized there was nothing else he’d rather hear.

----------

“Kookie! I cannot believe you want us to marathon this whole thing. It’s six seasons!” you exclaimed, turning your nose up at the teen show from the nineties currently playing its seventh episode on his obscenely large television. He grinned at you in that endearingly cute way that scrunched his nose as he walked in from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn, plopping onto the couch next to you, his arm easily pulling you in to cuddle into him.

“Dawson’s Creek is the best show ever written,” he said cooly, popping a kernel in his mouth and cooing at your glare, before relenting, albeit with faux disappointment. “But I guess since it's our one month anniversary, I’ll let you pick.”

“I told you we’re not doing monthly anniversaries!” Your protest turned into giggles when he pouted at you, making you push his face away. He whined, grabbing your hand and kissing it, making you stupidly flustered. Even though Jungkook and you had been together for a bit, his romantic side always made you shy. 

Instead of teasing you like he usually would, he smiled, letting go of your hand to kiss your lips instead, once, twice, three times. He loved the way you whined cutely before grabbing the remote and moving to sit between his legs so he could perch his head on your shoulder the way he liked to.

Jungkook relaxed back on the couch, his arms tightening around you as you scrolled through Netflix, and somehow he had never felt more relaxed. He nuzzled into you with a grin, feeling warm and content, breathing in your scent. It was then that he felt his pinky twitch where his hand rested on your waist, and he couldn’t help his eyes as they zeroed on to your hand around the remote, watching as yours did the same. 

Jungkook had always believed in the old myths, and as he saw the subtle movement of your finger, he knew that his belief wasn’t in vain.

-

Part 1 | Part 2 | Drabble

I hope you enjoyed the angst! For more fics of mine check out my masterlist

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