#GOD I LOVE WRITING ABOUT ALL OF THEM I COULD WRITE A MILLION BILLION WORDS AND NEVER BE DONE

[the-raindeer-king]

Original Soap Anon, cause I will take every excuse to babble about my bestest boy ever

King, in the future when I send asks I'll make sure to tell you 'share your thoughts' this is your blog my guy, say the things you wanna say <3

✨ Share those thoughts ✨

AND NOW THAT IVE GOT THE GREEN LIGHT

Could we all just COULD WE JUST TAKE A MOMENT

Say you're dating Johnny. Johnny, not Soap. Soap is his name when he's geared up and ready to break bones and skulls. Johnny is the one that's gonna sneak up on you at home, grab you from behind, hike you up and spin you around to make you laugh. Johnny is the one that's gonna kick his leg like a dog when you play with the hair of his Mohawk, a bit theatric, and if he's feeling cheeky enough 'ruff' in a low huff to imitate in a way that has you laughing. Johnny is the one that's gonna 'accidentally' toss flower at you when you're baking together, start a food fight, and then offer to help clean up after, with some flirtations in between.

It's Soap that's gonna raise hell for you, though. And you'll never know that unless something happens. You'll never know what he'd do, how far he'd go unless someone was stupid enough to corner you both, to do anything to threaten you and next thing either of you know, it's Soap who's got this person by the collar, slammed into a wall- twice for good measure, the back of their head no doubt busted even just a bit by the force while Soap in all of his malicious intensity swears towards them in the most chilling teeth barred snarling growl of what he'll do to them if they don't take off then and there.

And the individual leaves. And it's Soap that guides you home, but it's Johnny that gives you a cuddle afterwards, crooning so sweetly about how you're perfectly safe in his arms.

I'm having feelings and I'm stuck at work I'm sorry if I'm bombarding your inbox.

Tumblr was no longer safe from me when asks had no word cap anymore XD

DON'T APOLOGIZE THIS WAS SO GOOD!!! I'm at work too rn lol so this is a welcomed distraction while I'm on break.

But yes!!! I love expanding on how different they are during work vs at home because the job is so intense, they'd have to be different people. And could you imagine being Johnny's so and finally meeting Soap?

I'd probably be a little scared. Imagine your sweet, playful boyfriend beating the crap out of of someone for trying to mug y'all. It'd be a light bulb moment of "Oh shit, yeah. This is what he does for a living."

He's still got blood on his knuckles, when he gingerly leads you away, promising you that you're safe. That you'll always be safe as long as he's here.

[unbearable-lightness-of-ink]

so anyway I really did start compiling a kinyarwanda/english dictionary/grammar guide out of all the random resources i've been hoarding on my phone (it doesn't have to be great, it just has to be better than searching multiple different files every time I'm looking for some obscure vocab or grammar detail) and one of these resources is some PDF uploaded to the internet archive and it's... not great. from the writing and contents it's clearly

old (my guess is mid-1900s. I don't remember colonial and post-colonial Rwandan history specifically enough to guess well here, but based on some of the typos, it was done on a typewriter and then scanned with OCR)

intended for missionaries (some examples of actual sentences in the "translate this" exercises include "I praise God because He saved me and He gave me peace and joy" and, I shit u not, "The blind man cannot see the Word of God, but he can hear and he can know the love of Jesus." it's. well for one thing this is basically useless vocabulary for me, and also it's cringe af)

written by someone who was not a linguist (at one point instead of just saying "if T is preceded by an unvoiced consonant, it turns into D" they give you a list of every unvoiced consonant and then recommend that you invent a mnemonic phrase to memorise the list?! why?)

written by someone who was shit with pronunciation (legit so many places where they're like "there's no way to describe how this sounds, you just have to ask someone to make the sound for you" my good bitch the phoneme might not be in english but I could describe it just fine. skill issue.)

but the thing that's really killing me about all this is that every time they try to explain tonal vowels or phonemes that aren't in english, they tell you to "ask an African to say it for you."

an. an what now? an African? babe there are approximately 1.5 billion people in Africa. Africa accounts for about 20% of the land on earth, it's the second-biggest continent, and it has an estimated two thousand living languages spoken throughout the continent.

and kinyarwanda? it has maybe 15-25 million native speakers, depending on which source I trust. it's spoken (almost*) exclusively in rwanda, which is the 9th smallest country in Africa--and that roundup includes islands off the coast of the continent. It has the second densest population in Africa but it still only has like 13 million people in it. and it's a very unique language. its closest relatives do not have the same phonemes that kinyarwanda has, and its closest relatives are also spoken by relatively few people. I don't know enough about kirundi to say much but I do know that it doesn't have the same vowel tones in all instances and it doesn't have some of the same consonant clusters. and the more widely spoken related languages that you're more likely to stumble on someone who knows how to speak? they're even worse for a reference; ask someone who speaks kiswahili to pronounce kinyarwanda for you and they will not pronounce the difference between, say, umuceri (rice) and umucyeri (berry), or the tonal difference between words like umusambi (floor mat) and umusambi (crested crane).

so, like. it's just absolutely sending me, this random white lady who was obviously a colonialist missionary, bothering to make a whole language guide to teach me how to proselytise in kinyarwanda, but along the way she's like "just ask an african--any african--how to say this" lady less than 1% of them are going to know this language but go off i guess

*almost because there's the diaspora of rwandan expats and immigrants in other countries plus the banyamulenge which is a whole aspect of it that has so much fraught history on all sides that I won't even try to say something intelligent about it, it's totally not my place/something i'm educated enough about, but to my knowledge most of them speak dialects that are more or less dissimilar to kinyarwanda; kinyamulenge and kinyabwisha are not the same as kinyarwanda. take it from my munyamulenge coworker who could never pronounce the difference between c and cy

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

What is the motivation of theologians who compromise Genesis with the belief in millions of years?

by Ken Ham

Sadly, my experience has shown that many theologically conservative theologians have in reality adopted two different hermeneutical principles by which they interpret Scripture. This inconsistency causes problems.

Now, I do have great respect for many such theologians. Take the late Dr. Norman Geisler. He was a prolific author who for many years contended for the faith and equipped Christians with some excellent apologetic arguments to defend the Christian faith against many secular attacks.

At the same time, I assert that he and many others in Christian leadership (contrary to their sincerely good intentions) have unwittingly undermined the reliability and authority of the Scriptures they have loved and worked so hard to uphold. Can such a serious allegation be substantiated?

After my evolution/creation debate with Bill Nye, TV’s “The Science Guy,” on February 4, 2014 at the Creation Museum, there was a plethora of articles and blogs on the origins issue in secular and Christian media.

On February 12, Dr. Geisler wrote an opinion piece for the online Christian Post titled, “Does Believing in Inerrancy Require One to Believe in Young Earth Creationism?”

In this commentary, Dr. Geisler attempted to use various arguments to discredit those (like those of us at Answers in Genesis) who insist that God’s Word clearly teaches a creation week of six approximately 24-hour days (followed by a day of rest), and a relatively young age for the universe (about 6,000 years).

Even though Dr. Geisler briefly discussed the meaning of the Hebrew word for day (yôm) and biblical genealogies (e.g., in Genesis 5), I suggest that his column was really an attempt to justify a particular motivation he held as many other conservative theologians also hold.

For instance, Dr. Geisler in his Systematic Theology book states:

“In addition to the biblical evidence for long periods of time, there are scientific arguments that the world has existed for billions of years. The age of the universe is based on

1 the speed of light and the distance of the stars; 2 the rate of expansion of the universe; 3 the fact that early rocks have been radioactively dated in terms of billions of years; 4 the rate that salt runs into the sea and the amount of salt there, which indicates multimillions of years.

“While all of these arguments have certain unprovable presuppositions, nonetheless, they may be true and, hence, point to a universe that is billions rather than thousands of years in age.” (end of quote).

In some of his other writings, Dr. Geisler made similar statements regarding a billions-of-years-old universe. I suggest that his ultimate motivation for attempting to discredit a literal six-day Creation Week was because he had been influenced by an authority outside the Bible: the majority view among scientists of very old ages, so that he could allow for a belief in billions of years. Thus, he went to great lengths in an attempt to justify various efforts by Christians to fit billions of years into the biblical record. I do believe this was his ultimate motivation.

He had been influenced by an authority outside the Bible: the majority view among scientists.

Also keep in mind that the belief in billions of years actually came out of naturalism, as fallible humans, using autonomous human reasoning, attempted to explain the origin of the earth and universe.

When I study the writings of numerous contemporary Christian scholars, I find they propose a variety of ways to interpret Genesis. But they all have the same motivation. Somewhere in their writings, they will admit to believing in, or allowing for, the supposed billions of years for the age of the universe.

Now when I read Dr. Geisler’s writings where he dealt with the New Testament, I discovered that he never started with beliefs from secular scientists and take them to the Bible to interpret, say, the account of Jesus’ resurrection or virgin birth. He accepted those Scriptures as written. But when he looked at the account of origins in Genesis, Dr. Geisler did not take it as written, but allowed ideas outside of God’s Word to be reconciled to Scripture. As a consequence, he reinterpreted the plain meaning of God’s written revelation.

I strongly and respectfully suggest that Dr. Geisler and many other Christian scholars have one hermeneutical principle for Genesis chapters 1–11 (eisigesis) and a different one for the rest of Scripture (exegesis).

Because of this approach, Dr. Geisler misrepresented biblical creationists who believe in a young earth/universe. For example, here is what he stated in his Christian Post commentary:

“'For some, the belief in a Young Earth seems to be based on a kind of intuition or faith in what they believe an omnipotent God should do. It reasons that if God is all powerful, then certainly He would not have taken millions of years to make the earth. However, by reduction ad absurdum, one could ask why God did not create it in six minutes or six seconds rather than six days? If He is all-powerful and can make something from nothing, then why did He not create the whole thing lock-stock-and barrel instantaneously!' Furthermore, it is not a question of what God could or should do; it is a question of what God actually did do. And it is presumptuous for a mortal to divine what God should have done.”

For biblical creationists, however, it has never been a “question of what God could or should do.” And it is really not primarily a “question of what God did do.”

At Answers in Genesis, we have always stated that it’s a question of what God said he did! The priority is taking the Word of God naturally. There are many biblical and contextual reasons for concluding (as almost the whole church did for 1,800 years and much of the church holds to today) that Genesis 1–11 is straightforward literal history. Genesis teaches us more than mere history, but not less than history. And the literal history is critical to what it teaches us about God, man, sin, marriage, etc. We must let God speak to us and not in any way allow fallible man’s ideas to be imposed on Scripture.

Answers in Genesis has published numerous articles on the meaning of the Hebrew word for day in Genesis (“yom”), the supposed gaps in the biblical genealogies, and the problems with trying to determine the age of the earth using the various “scientific” methods. Perhaps one of the most thorough analyses we have of the Hebrew word for day comes from chapter 5 of my book “Six Days.”

It is true that many of the church fathers and the early creeds did not deal with the age of the earth/universe. But that is simply because almost all of them were young-earth creationists, such as Augustine. He held to a global flood, the great lifespans of the pre-flood patriarchs, and that Adam lived less than 6,000 years before Augustine. He was only confused about the days in Genesis 1 (thinking creation was in an instant, not over millions of years) because of his faulty Latin Bible and his ignorance of the Greek and Hebrew languages.

In addition the famous reformer John Calvin believed that the world had not yet “completed its six thousandth year” (Calvin 2009, p. 90). Luther and Wesley also held to the young-earth view. In fact, this was the overwhelmingly dominant view in the church till the early 1800s, when the idea of millions of years was developed in geology and so much of the church accepted it. Frankly, Dr. Geisler was mistaken regarding beliefs about Genesis in the history of the church. The church quickly compromised with the idea of millions of years in the early 19th century (not because of new more careful exegesis of the biblical text, but because Christians made the geologists their final authority of the subject). And sadly, most Christian leaders (including Spurgeon, Hodge, Scofield, Warfield, and the authors of The Fundamentals) have followed suit with an equally shallow analysis of the Genesis text and other relevant passages.

I assert that many great men of God in today’s world are contributing to a generational loss of biblical authority because of their insistence on accommodating man’s belief in billions of years with the infallible Word of God. Such a loss of biblical authority is contributing enormously to a massive exodus of young people from the church (see our book “Already Gone”) and an increasing decline of Christian influence on the culture. Of course, for all Christians, compromising God’s Word is a very serious matter.

“Do not add to His words” (Proverbs 30:6).

[milflookingforadilf]

all the poetries he ever made for me. all my favourite words from him.

he made his first ever poetry for me on november 26.

“if i were too afford you, you’d be my world and everything in this world would’ve been yours”

“if i get you, you don’t have idea how much i am gonna love you. it’s unimportant.”

“if i lose you everything but get you,

i’d happily lose everything”

“You’re so special. There is something about you i just can’t explain.”

“There is nothing beyond infinite i can’t love you more than infinite.”

“you fell too hard.”

“And only reason to get up was to look into your eyes.”

“i am not in senses when i’m with you��

“i can imagine a life without oxygen but not without you”

“my feelings for you are not expressable words can’t describe them, money can’t buy them and others can’t have them.”

“will i ever need a fragrance after i hug you?”

“your love making me build portals so i can go beyond infinite to love you.”

“if God asks me to make Dua that He will fulfill with 100% surety. I won’t ask for millions of dollars i will simply ask for you.”

“i am like limited. there should have been something–something other than words, something could actually show my feelings.”

“and it hurts too but makes me the happiest ever.”

“give me the hurt part you take the happiest one.”

“how can you be serious about me?”

“right now if they tell me live without Aymal or die i would rather die.”

“Aymal i love you more than the stars in the sky and drops in ocean.”

“think of me as a library and whisper all of your thoughts in my ear.”

“stop comparing yourself with moon. moon ain’t nothin like you, you’re way prettier.”

“you don’t even need to die to see Jannah, you got mirrors in your house.”

“if you vanish from the world i will track you by your beautiful scent.”

“you’re like sky to me wherever i go i see you.”

“give me your heart i will listen to it all the time.”

“i really wanna have my last breath in your lap. i wanna live my whole life with you.”

“give me yourself heaven is a bit of ‘you’.”

“Aymal. you’re so special. none has ever tried to explore you. you’re like a butterfly on a yellow flower.”

“can i take a sip of your tears?

but my heart won’t be able to handle it my lips will forever be in need of same taste and my stomach will grow flowers.”

“talk more about our memories, from your pov about me. i love it.”

“do you know why i tried?”

“no please tell. even if i knew it i would ask it again and again and again.”

“i love you more than the 1st drop of rain that ever landed on earth to the last drop of rain will ever drop.”

“if you were ocean i would dive into you knowing i can’t swim.”

“too high in your presence.”

“you’re my heart.”

“if i were to express how much i love you i would just tell you i am a bee and you’re my rose.”

“what’s the point of loving me then?.”

“faith on Allah.”

“i would happily live in a hell if i have an angel besides me forever.”

“and people call their lost love a chapter but to me you’re a whole library.”

“you’re like Islamabad in Pakistan, Taj Mahal in India, Eiffel tower in Paris France and moon in the sky.”

“maybe there’s something written far better for you.”

“i don’t want better

i want you.”

“i wish i was there to hold you tight. keep you close to me. and keep you warm. and give you forehead kisses. Oh God i’d give you the world my love i love you so much.”

“billions of books in the world and i wanna read your eyes.”

“i wanna write books for you, i wanna fill libraries with books about you.”

“if God asks for any one of my wishes i would ask to remove the silence when i am with you.”

“i love you so much more, more than stars in the sky more than drops of rain ever dropped in earth more than the blinks every living being ever blinked more than hair every living being ever had.”

“i am sky and you’re my stars,

i am dark nights you’re my full moon,

i am sun flower and you’re my sun,

i am bee and you’re my rose.”

“you come and talk to me in my ears even if i am dead i will wake up just to reply to you my love.”

“by whole existence i meant this soil and flowers on soil and those beautiful leaves on flowers and those colours of leaves and those scent of leaves and the world they are in and solar system that world is in and the universe that solar is in and the space that universe is in you’re even more perfect than all of this.

“meri jaan mere hath mn hota to mn tumhary naam pura hospital krwa deta.”

“apki toe lag jati hai table pr feet pr akr rolena mere paas i will be there for you.”

“you’re so beautiful Aymal that if i go blind i would still be able to see your beauty.”

“come to me love cry on my chest.”

“stay as you are and the water of the ocean would dry away but my love for you won’t.”

“only if words could express how much i love you there wouldn’t be a single paper left not filled with words expressing my love for you.”

“I am waiting on Allah, i am waiting on His miracle, i am waiting here for you, i am waiting because i fell in love with one of His servants and i have my faith on Him only He will unite us i trust Him and i believe in His ways only.

“i love every inch of you and every alphabet that comes out of your mouth and every single thought you get in your head.”

-

urdu shayiris

“For you ek phool likin ek khushbu ko phool ki kiya zaroorat jabky ek phool ko khushbu ki zaroorat hoti hai.”

“bahir jate waqt ankhon mn parda dala karo logon ki nazarain kharab ho jayengi tumhari ankhon k noor sy.”

“dil krta hai ankhon ky palkho pr rkhlu magr dar hai ky tumhari noor sy ankhon sy be-noor na hojaun.”

“dil krta hai tumhari ankhon sy giri harem ek boond pee loon pr nashy ki halat mn jannat wajib nhi.”

“jitna husan tera dekha lagta nhi kabhi jam mn esa nasha dekha.”

“tumhari husan mn itna madhosh tumhari baton ka hi andaza nhi laga paye.”

“tareefain teri likhny pr aun toh saari kitabyn dunia ki bhar jayengi. duniya ky saree siyahi khatam hojaegi amd meri sansain and mere din pure hojaengy.”

“adayen teri esi qatil mn talwar ki bajaye tera dedaar mangta hun.”

“khushbu teri esi ky gulaab bhi sharma jaye usmy bethi madhu makhi bhi tere peechy lag jaye.”

“tu chaly qadam qadam ugy phool jahan rkhy apny qadam.”

“wo bhi kitny qismat waly hongy jinko roz teri ankhain roz dekhti hongi.”

“mera dil mere paas hoky bhi mera nhi jabsy tumsy mila.”

“apky aagy gulab bhi sharma jaye.”

“dun gulaab ky phool mgr wo apko dekhty hi sharam sy marjaye.”

“teri in ankhon sy jo boond giry toh zameen sy zamam nikal aye.”

“sansain toh chal rhi pr rooh nhi hai jism mn ankhain toh dekh rhi hain pr nazar nhi arha kuchh tere siwa.”

“yu tera paas na hona,

esa lag rha hai qayamat ki ghari agai hai.”

“kiyun nhi lag rha dil usky bina kya zindagi ka maqsad sirf wohi hai ab?”

“ye sukoon kiu nhi ata mujhy tere bina kiya meri khushi sirf tumhsy hi hai?”

trs rahi hain ankhain tujhy dekhny k liye, kaan tujhy sun���ny ky liye, aur dil tujhy paas mehsoos krny ky liye.”

“teri kami ny is trhn dil pr asar kya, ky tanhai mm bhi teri arazoo ny akela nhi chhora.”

“tu kary ankh band toh dhal jaye raat aur tu gun gunaye kaan mn aur sota rhu mn sari raat.”

“tu chaly toh ury esi khushbu aas paas ky log smjhy kahi jannat mn toh nhi hum.”

“tujhy dekhu to palkhy na jukhy meri kabhi

aun tere paas to kabhi akela na paun khudko lagalu galy to teri khushbu rahy mere sath sada tujhy choom lu to mere hont khushk na ho kabhi tham lu hath to kabhi chor na saku chalu sath tere to kabhi khudko rok na saku karu baat tumsy to kabhi chup na bethu karo tum baat to kabhi na thaku sunky

karu to piyar tumhy dil na bhary kabhi kary jo piyar tu mujhy tujhpy jaan nisar kardu aur likhu tere bary mn to duniya ki saree kitaby bhardu”

“achi raat mn ap mere liye chand hain, aur tez sardi ap mere liye sooraj ki roshni hain, aur garmi mn badal ki chhau.”

[samueldays]

The disinformation is coming from inside the house

A while back, disinformation j*rnos made disinformation noises about how much they wanted Elon Musk's money to supposedly fulfill some noble goal, and Elon Musk called their bluff.

The WFP did not describe exactly how $6B would solve world hunger, neither there nor elsewhere.

Now, disinformer Charlotte Alter writes at disinformation outlet TIME Magazine:

They say that something is worth what someone will pay for it. If that’s true, then protecting “free speech,” which Elon Musk has cited as a central reason he agreed to buy Twitter for $44 billion this week, may be worth twice as much as solving America’s homelessness problem, and seven times as much as solving world hunger.

If you follow the link from TIME, you will not find a plan to solve world hunger. You will find a disinforming CNN article by Jackie Wattles, where the headline is moving the goalposts and it doesn't get any better in the article:

"Solve" is not the same as "fight". I, too, could "fight" world hunger if you gave me six billion dollars. Please give me six billion dollars.

To recap: CNN claims the UN WFP could "solve" world hunger if it had Musk's money. Musk challenges them to explain how they would "solve" world hunger. The UN WFP issues a plan to "fight" world hunger in response. CNN says here's that plan to "fight" world hunger that Musk wanted. TIME digs it up again to bitch that Musk would not "solve" world hunger.

These two words are different words. They do not mean the same thing. You may think I am belaboring an obvious point, and I agree in principle, but I observe that the j*rnos are mixing up the two words anyway. I do not think the j*rnos are mind-bogglingly retarded. Even if they were mind-bogglingly retarded, they boast of having editors and the like to catch the retardations, so I must conclude that their institutions know better and they're doing it anyway.

In a word, disinformation. In two words, fake news.

If you dig into CNN's link to the UN WFP's plan, it gets ever further from "solving" "world" "hunger". Also, the plan's grown closer to $7B. I quote:

The US$6.6 billion required would help those in most need in the following way: one meal a day, the basic needed to survive – costing US$0.43 per person per day, averaged out across the 43 countries. This would feed 42 million people for one year, and avert the risk of famine. Below is a snapshot of regions and countries currently most at risk: Global hunger continues to rise at an alarming rate: our latest estimates show that 282.7 million people across 80 countries are experiencing extreme levels of acute hunger.

I think the UN vastly overstates its own impact, and understates how much corruption will eat from their budget. But even if I take their claims at face value, this is a plan to stall regional hunger, not solve world hunger. It is not a lasting solution, and its temporary patch is nowhere close to covering all the hungry people. Also, it does not describe exactly how the money will be spent.

May God strike all these journos dumb for their disinformation.

Secondarily to the disinformation, I want to note how much scumbags like Charlotte Alter are smearing Musk. When Alter says that Musk could have solved world hunger many times over and chose not to, this is a false claim. When people believe that claim, many of them will predictably hate Musk for it. To use a phrase that j*rnos love to rag on, Alter is inciting hatred with her lies.

[softcallofdutyimagines]

Can I get some Naga slight angst/fluff? Maybe an enemy group took the s/o and Naga has to negotiate getting them back (like $12 million) and daddy gets them back because ��$12 million is a cheap price to get you back” idk I’m in love with how you write for the cod operators ❤️

Need this 😌💖💖💖💖 I turned it into a whole little fic, so I hope that's ok! This got pretty heavy, ngl, but I think it turned out sweet, so I hope you enjoy!!

Reader Pronouns: she/her

Warning: strong language and some pretty disrespectful language towards women, including implied physical violence if you squint, so be careful while reading guys!!!

Naga clears the trinkets and fine antiques off his desk with a full sweep of rage. A vase shatters and a small, crystal idol chips, but all he sees is short, typed ransom note before him.

A rival gang managed to snatch you up in the streets not two days ago. He's been worried sick ever since you didn't come home that evening, and even now it hasn't abated by much. No, instead an anger just as intense as the worry and fear rises to join the others. His entire being trembles almost imperceptibly as he reads the details of the letter.

They want 100 billion kip in gold. He has three days to bring it to the drop point in exchange for you. No guns or weapons on him or his men.

He slams a fist on the desk and collapses his head into his hands. Naga clenches a fistful of hair in one hand and swipes the note out of his sight with the other. He weighs his options only to realize...

Well, he doesn't really have any, does he?

He's very familiar with this group. They're ruthless cutthroats and, if he's being honest, he wouldn't out it past them to have killed you already and be stringing him along right now. In fact, as much we it makes him sick to say so, he almost hopes they've killed you.

It would be a much better fate then what they usually do to their victims.

Even three days is far too long to be in their captivity. God, just the thought of their hands on you... He shrieks in rage, wishing there was something else in his vacinity that he could destroy. But he knows that wouldn't help.

No, the only thing that would help him right now is having you back.

Kapano calla in his right hand man and throws the crumpled up letter to him. "Get the money", he growls.

The other man opens up the paper and reads the sum. His eyes go wide and before he can even suggest that he might protest this plan, a stiletto knife buries itself in the wood beside his head.

"I said get the fucking money!", he screams, eyes wide, teeth bared, and every muscle within him bristling. The second in command bows his head quickly and dashes off before something far worse is thrown his way.

Naga swears and applies some pressure to his forehead. It feels like his skull is about to split.

He spares a glance outside, then trudges to his room. Your, room. The sun hangs low in the sky and he has yet even more to do tomorrow. One piece at a time, he sheds his combat attire, nursing a headache all the while.

On a normal night, you offer to help him out of all the buckles and straps, and oh what he'd give to take you up on that offer now. At last he unclasps his jewelry down to one final necklace. This is a recent one, a locket you gave him with a tiny picture of the two of you inside. He loved it so much, he's since had it encrusted with a ruby heart and wears it daily.

At the memory of you, suddenly he feels unable to part with it, not even for just a night's sleep. He takes it off reverently and clasps it tightly in his hand. Poping open the little door, he fixates on your lovely face as he trudges to bed.

Naga crawls into his side, distracted for a long moment by the perfectly undisturbed second half of the bed. He knows how much you hate a cold bed. On any other night he'd lay in your spot for you until you join him, just to warm up the sheets for you.

He places the locket on your pillow, a shakiness starting to overtake him as he wonders if he'll ever have the chance to warm your sheets and share a bed with you again. At last he lays his head down, and yet he's unable to take his eyes off your half.

Even still, your pillow smells like oils and creams he bought you for your hair. He suspends his hand just over the pillow a moment, thinking of you. And when he lets it drop, he can't tell if it's the cause or the result of the tears flowing from him.

He can't fucking stand it anymore.

Kapano pulls your pillow close to him, holding it tight as he would you. At least tonight he'll have the comforting scent of you as he suffers another fitful night.

The following days up to the trade are slow and painful. Every night is worse then the last as he consumes himself with the stress and worry surrounding you.

He can't get to the drop point fast enough. In compliance with the ransom note, he and his men are unarmed. So they wait. And wait. And wait....

And just as he's ready to pull his hair out, a truck slowly rolls up the abandoned dirt road.

A small squad of men hop out and approach Naga and his gang. Then, bringing up the rear, the boss shoves you along, a gun pressed snug against your head.

"What the fuck is this? You said no guns!"

The rival boss spits, as though Naga's mere presence leaves a foul taste in his mouth. "What? You think I don't know about them?", he nods his head up.

Far, far in the branches, hidden from view at this angle, more of Naga's men wait in the tree canopy, armed and ready for any sign of foul play.

Damn it.

Naga glances over at you. You're looking pale and rather bruised and beaten. A far cry from the carefree, sun kissed goddess he usually knows.

"Alright, there's the fucking money, now give her to me!"

The other man clicks his tongue and presses his pistol against your temple, "Wait until we're loaded up first, then you can have your precious whore back"

Naga seethes at that, but is afraid to make a sudden movement last he lose you for good. And the rival boss notices. He smirks, a gratingly patronizing tone to his voice "Oh, I'm sorry? Did I insult your little harlot? We both know that's all she is...", He leans in far to close and licks your neck slowly, teasingly, before nipping your earlobe, "Isn't that right, bitch?"

This has gone on long enough. Naga's body quivers with boiling rage as his temper shoots through the ceiling. He shouts a command in his native tongue and a hail of bullets rain down on the opposing gang, the first several of which bury themselves in the man holding you hostage.

Behind him, Naga's men on the ground unsheathe small throwing knives and daggers, taking advantage of the surprise gunfire to press the attack.

But, at the death of their leader, the remaining crew scatters like flies and before long, all is quiet.

Kapano rushes forward to pick you up off the ground. He kneels down and cradles you in his arms as he removes your blindfold and cuts your hands free. Your tears carve small rivers through the dried blood running down your cheeks. You try to speak, but all that you can manage is a choked gasp.

He's never seen you like this before. And he never wants to again.

Naga shushes you, holding you against his chest while he strokes your hair. "Shhh, he's never going to touch you again. I promise", he kisses your forehead and helps you slowly to your feet, "Now let's get you out of here baby"

You don't say a word the whole ride back, but Naga holds your hand and rubs your back all the while. When you get home, he sets up a bath for you with all the salts and fragrances he knows you love. He offers you some help, but you say you'd like some time alone.

Somewhat reluctantly, he respects your wishes and sets off to make a meal and some tea for you both. It's all set up on the mat and pillows adorning the main hall. You look lovely as ever in your silk pajamas and lacy robe when you join him after your bath.

Slowly, you find your voice to speak, but it feels as though your mere presence is enough to earn you the praise Naga is showering you in. He's so focused on you, he nearly forgets to eat.

Once you're all finished, he decides to leave the dishes for later, and instead he pulls you onto his chest as you both recline into the fortress of pillows supporting you. Naga nuzzles your hair and kisses your temple.

You smell like jasmine and fresh citrus, infinitely better then the stench of stale sweat and musk of other men that he received you in.

He kisses your face gently, rubbing some warmth into your shoulders. You enjoy the quiet, but a small sniffing sound interrupts you.

"...Kapano?"

He sniffs again, wiping his eyes with his free hand. "Sorry, I just... God, I-I thought I'd never see you again", tears stream down cheeks, he rests his forehead against the side of yours.

You sigh, wishing you could just forget it all, "I know how you feel"

At that he tenses, and a quiet growl escapes your little tiger, "It'll never happen again, I swear it. I wish I could've pulled the trigger on the bastard myself... He deserved worse then what he got. Far worse"

You press a kiss to the broad tip of his nose and smile softly, "I love you, little dragon"

For the first time since he lost you, all those days ago, he smiles. He's not a big fan of when you first gave him that nickname. He hates to be described as "little", it's not very intimidating. But... Suddenly, it sounds quite endearing.

He kisses your perfumed lips, stroking a thumb over your battered cheek. "I know", he smiles. That night, you sleep out amongst the pillows, right where you are.

Tomorrow night, he'll be looking forward to warming up your side of the bed for you.

[sunjaesol]

you got me fucked up in the head, boy

juke | human!au | medley of "sour" by olivia rodrigo

/////////////////////////

"I shouldn't call him," Julie decided.

Flynn looked up from her phone, doubtful that Julie's statement held any merit, and shrugged.

"If you want to call him-"

"You're supposed to congratulate me for my hashtag girl power."

"-then you should," she went on unperturbed. "You were with him for three years. You're allowed to ask how he's doing."

Her lips rolled in, frustrated. It wasn't that easy. If broken relationships were that easy to traverse, no one would write a billion songs about it - including her. Luke and her had history, fragmented moments of love and heartache mixed together to the point that she sometimes doubted herself. What did she craft herself - that stupidly imaginative brain of hers - and what was real?

Regardless, calling Luke was scary.

Everything started to spiral with one simple, Pitchfork article. Sunset Curve touring all festivals of the West Coast - the band to watch?

She knew the band had been doing well (without her), but she hadn't realised the big leagues were beckoning them on the stage. It was amazing, it really was, but it stung. Was she allowed to be jealous, to compare her career to theirs?

Her music was less marketable - a known fact after numerous articles calling it acquired taste - but now it felt like they were leaps ahead of her. It fucking stung.

Most of all, she just wanted to tell him she was proud. That at the end of the day, they were all artists and wished each other the best. That he deserved it. Because he did.

(Did he? When she was the one that launched the band into the public eye? God, she sounded bitter.)

"I shouldn't call him," she repeated.

Flynn sighed, rolling over on the bed to face her. "I think you should."

"Why?"

"'Cause you're clearly gutted about it," she muttered, an apologetic smile framing her lips. "Just call him, Julie. I'm sure he'll get it."

Julie laughed bitterly. "Yes. Because our relationship ended so amicable. Definitely not with paranoia and tears and-"

"Alright," she cut her off, tapping on her phone and then throwing the device in her hands. "It's ringing. Be ready."

The girl gasped at the sight of Luke's name and picture glimmering on Flynn's screen, heartbeat racing to an unhealthy speed while nausea rose.

She wasn't ready. She shouldn't call him. But knowing him-

"Flynn?"

-he always picked up.

She held her breath. It was foreign hearing his voice again. The same as three months ago, though somehow entirely different at the same time. Maybe because their was no mirth in his tone, no gleam in his eye. She heard it all - it was just confusion.

"Hey, Luke," she said.

It was quiet for a moment. Flynn stared at her with wide eyes, as if realising the weight of the situation. Julie wanted to chuck the phone out hre window.

"Julie?" It sounded accusatory. Fuck. "Why're you calling me from Flynn's phone?"

Oh, fuck. This was such a big mistake. Thoughts and shreds of sentences floated around her brain, none able to be plucked and spoken.

Her voice trembled. "I, uh, I wanted to ask how you are?"

"Why?"

It was cold. Somehow, she struck a nerve with a normal question like that. Her eyes shut, wondering if this was even happening at all and why he had so much power over her, still. They were broken up. They were on equal footing. It shouldn't feel like this.

"Because I saw the article," she pushed through. "That's why."

That seemed to mellow him down a bit. It felt like a tug of war, going back and forth with sickly twisted plays of power. One phone call, an entire coup d'état.

"Oh." A pressured pause. "Yeah, I'm good. It's crazy. Thanks." And then- "How are you?"

A smile mustered itself on her lips. Him just asking that… it felt nice. She wished her heart wasn't so malleable.

"I'm doing good as well," she said, unsure how truthful that was. "Thanks."

And then he made the big swing. "I'm seeing someone new."

It happened automatically, the way the phone retracted from her ear to put in on speaker. She wouldn't have the strength to recount whatever he'd say next to Flynn.

She kept the phone close though. "You are?"

Her tone had gone up an octave, sugary sweet, too fake that he couldn't have missed it.

He didn't comment on it. "Yeah. Just thought you should know."

Flynn scowled, sticking her finger in her throat

Asshole. "Good for you," Julie smiled. "Are you happy?"

The question was dubious. Are you happy you broke my heart into a million pieces? Are you happy with your new girl? (Does she know how much I've shaped you? That I taught you all those sappy songs on the guitar?)

Or maybe Julie was too emotional. Too much of everything. Too gready to be whatever he wanted her to be.

God, how did it end so wrong? It started so beautifully. They worked so well together. How could they have gone from origami stars - attached and idealistic and lovesick - to a simple rip in the delicate paper, for her to be discarded?

Did she even want to know if he was happy?

"I am," he whispered. He was smart enough to sound remorseful. "She's great."

Julie sighed and nodded. "And-" And did you tell her she was the one too? That your love is eternal? "And…"

"I kinda have to go, Julie," he cut off. Always the last fucking word. "Nice to talk to you again, yeah?"

"Yeah," she exhaled. Taking him off speaker, she held it close to her ear again and listened to his breath for a beat. "Congratulations, again."

"Thanks." A smile in his voice. "Take care."

"You too."

"Bye."

She hung up. He should know what that felt like for once.

And then the jealousy snuck in. Fuck. A new girl. A new girl giving him butterflies - prettier, softer, happier, more collected, less fucked in the head. She probably had both her parents. She probably had a perfect body. She was probably secretly everything Julie wanted to be.

(Comparison would kill her one day.)

Cautiously, Flynn took her phone and pocketed it. "I'm sorry."

"You're right. I should've called him." She sat down. "Now I remember why we're not together anymore."

A familiar hand caressed her arm. "Are you okay?"

Her head shook. "No… I guess that's… part of it. I feel regret and shame and… I feel like he ruined me." Her body tensed up, angered. "How can he move on so quickly?"

Flynn's lips pursed, though the words were clear as day in her eyes. That maybe, their relationship had been bad for longer than Julie thought. She couldn't assume, but if Luke openly told her about his new girl… then maybe…

"You'll be okay again, Jules," her friend soothed. "Some day."

She huffed. "Is it bad that I still care?"

"No. I bet he still cares too."

Julie burrowed her head in a pillow, agitated by her own overwhelming thoughts and emotions, wishing she knew the full story, that she didn't feel like a fool, that she didn't have so many regrets, that he thought it through before he swept her up in the romance of a lifetime.

Julie was barely twenty. It shouldn't be like this.

She wished he thought it through before she fell in love with him.

/////////////////////////////////////

@blush-and-books @bluefirewrites @willexx @unsaid-emily @pink-flame @constantly-singing @ourstarscollided

[readyplayerhobi]

Captain’s Log | 1

; Starfleet Captain!Jungkook x Ex-Borg!Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst, future smut

; Word Count: 6.6k

; Synopsis:  Freshly promoted Captain Jeon Jungkook is one of the youngest captain’s in Starfleet history. Sent on a mission to provide aid to a fellow starship, he grapples with multiple problems from a Q who seems to be trying to be human and calling himself Seokjin to having the only Romulan in Starfleet on board and the intricacies of dealing helping an ex-borg crew member readjust. Whether he’ll manage to succeed is another matter altogether, but he’ll try his hardest to prove the USS Yi Sun-Sin deserves a place amongst the most famous ships in Starfleet.

; A/N: So...I’ve just decided to split this. And by split it...I may or may not continue it. I’m not sure how this will be received or if people will even enjoy given it relies very heavily on the Star Trek world. If I can get my inspiration back then I will definitely write the second part which will probably be much longer!

-

Captain Jeon Jungkook stood in the small transport ship, staring out of the viewport with his breath caught in his throat. Before him, was the vast expanse of space. Thousands of tiny twinkling specks of light dotted the view, each one a star that was hundreds, thousands or even millions of light-years away.

There was every chance those stars could already be dead. The big ones would have swelled, more extensive and more substantial as they tried to survive by burning as many gasses as they could before finally going supernova and exploding. All that would remain is a neutron star, the compressed core of what had once been a magnificent sun or instead, a black hole that would eat at the very fabric of the universe.

Smaller stars would simply burn out, becoming white dwarves and cooling for millions of years as they became invisible. Forgotten. What Jungkook was looking at, was visual proof that those stars had existed.

But that wasn’t what interested him.

No, what interested him was the monumental structure that hung in the deadness of space, beyond the atmosphere of Earth. McKinley Station was massive on a scale he couldn’t comprehend. Giant in the kind of way that only space could provide. It was one of Starfleet’s pride and joy, a spacedock that birthed the spaceships that protected the hundreds of planets in the Federation.

Cradled gently in the spacedock’s arms, like a loving mother just waiting to let her child go, sat one of those spaceships. She was brand new, her paint glistening in the lights that shone around her. Like other ships of her class, Curiosity, she had the familiar saucer section that took up a large portion of her size while towards the back, her currently powered down warp nacelles flowed out in two straight lines.

A pale grey, the only notable thing on her was the lettering scrawled across the top of her saucer. It slowly came into view as the transport moved around, letting Jungkook get a good look.

The larger script read her registry number, NCC-75715. It was the clearest text, but he wasn’t interested in that. No, he was interested in what was written above that in a smaller font.

USS Yi Sun-Sin.

Her name. The name she would be known by across the stars. The reason he was interested in the magnificent ship, so new that she would probably have the delightful fresh smell when he got on board, was that she was his. 

Captain Jeon Jungkook, one of the youngest captains in Starfleet history, was the captain of the brand new USS Yi Sun-Sin. This was the first time he’d ever laid eyes on her, but he could feel his heart swelling with pride already as he watched the ship get closer and closer. He would lead her crew through the galaxy, make the hard decisions, explore the unexplored and defend the defenceless. 

It was still hard for him to realise that he’d made it. His years at Starfleet Academy had gone perfectly. Almost too perfectly. The highest grades, the best physical performance and graduated top of his class. He’d only been beaten in the mathematics and physics sections by a Vulcan, which was unsurprising.

After that, he’d run through the ranks of Starfleet at an exponential rate. As a result, he was only 31 and already a captain. His parents were beyond happy and bursting with pride that their little boy had made it to the honoured ranks of Starfleet. Just an ordinary guy from a small city called Busan.

Yet here he was. About to embark upon the greatest adventure.

-

One Year Later

“Engineering, what’s the status on the warp drive?” Jungkook asked, his finger pressed onto the screen embedded into the arm of his comfortable captain’s chair. The bridge stretched before him, a small space before reaching the helm and beyond that was the enormous viewscreen that let him see what lay beyond the Yi Sun-Sin.

A scientific anomaly in the nebula they’d been studying for the last week had caused the warp drive to unexpectedly power down. They’d been operating on thrusters since, managing to push the ship just far enough that they’d left the nebula. Engineering had been working on the drive ever since, frantically running through diagnostics and repairing blown conduits.

A starship without a warp drive wasn’t of much use to anyone. Jungkook was desperate to get it working again so he could get both his ship and crew away from any potential danger.

The last thing he needed right now was for a Borg cube to randomly fly by.

That thought ran through his head and he cringed at the thought, pushing it away quickly. He hoped that didn't happen. With the current roster, Jungkook didn't need his crew needing yet another reason to hate the Borg.

Not that he'd begrudge anyone for their negative feelings regarding the Borg. They were terrifying and Jungkook prayed to whatever god would hear him that he would never have to come across them. 

Any alien species they found that they deemed to be a worthy addition to their gigantic Collective was swiftly captured and assimilated. Rarely did those people ever manage to return once taken.

But a few did.

When he’d been choosing the crew for his ship, Jungkook had had the pick of a wide range of capable candidates. He’d quickly earned himself the Captain of Lost Causes title amongst his peers when they saw who he’d chosen.

His crew was eclectic, to say the least.

And that included an ex-Borg. The only ex-Borg in Starfleet since the demise of Icheb, a capable officer who had unfortunately been killed to harvest his Borg parts. Jungkook, and everyone else in Starfleet, had found that a sad day. Even more so because it had been the infamous Seven of Nine who had delivered the parting blow, ending his suffering when she found him.

He couldn’t even begin to imagine how painful that had been for her. A lot of people were under the assumption that those who had once been Borg still retained their lack of humanity. Or whatever you called that in other species. They were wrong. People had it, they just didn’t know how to access it anymore.

Which was why he’d picked you to be his astrometrics officer. You had retained your knowledge from when you’d been in the Borg Collective, one drone amongst millions, even billions. That meant you had a formidable knowledge of space and how to traverse it, a mathematical mind that could only be met by an android and an innate understanding of science.

Needless to say, you were a brilliant Starfleet officer. 

You didn’t quite make such a good human though. Along with struggling to find your place amongst free-minded individuals once more, your social skills found much to be desired as well. Everyone on board Yi Sun-Sin knew about you, and they all knew about the problems you had faced in Starfleet Academy when it came to others.

Jungkook had found you endlessly fascinating for the first few weeks. Your lack of awareness regarding certain social graces and your complete disregard for rules if you felt they were interfering with something worthwhile had both bemused and exasperated him.

When he’d been given this ship, the only thing he’d thought about had been how to ensure he was commanding a large number of Starfleet personnel efficiently and with care. He wanted to be the kind of captain whom people were confident about coming to with their problems while also inspiring strong loyalty to take them into dangerous situations.

He most certainly had not expected what had happened with you over the last year. Not that he particularly regretted any of it. Starfleet didn’t have any concrete regulations when it came to fraternizing. Jungkook knew because he’d frantically scanned them all when he’d realised how deep he was into his feelings. All he’d been able to do was maintain that his personal life remained personal and that when in command, he didn’t let anything interfere with his job.

Alongside you though, he’d also taken on Lieutenant Commander Jimin. The slight man was currently standing behind the communications console to the left of Jungkook at the back of the bridge. He was Jungkook’s second officer and a Romulan. The only Romulan in Starfleet. Just like you, it had made him a little bit of an outcast amongst his fellow officers and cadets at the Academy.

Romulans were not exactly renowned for being friends of Starfleet. But Jimin’s family had fled Romulus before he’d even been born, gaining asylum on Earth and becoming productive members of society. Jimin had never known what it was like to be amongst Romulans; he’d never even seen the homeworld of his species.

That didn’t stop people from distrusting him though. From viewing him through the lens of hostility and anger. Unsurprisingly, he’d somehow formed a friendship with you and it pleased Jungkook to see that you both at least had each other.

But that wasn’t what was important right now. The damn warp drive was.

“Engineering reporting,” The soft and feminine voice of his Chief Engineer, Siyeon, filtered through to the bridge. “We have almost managed to fix the drive, Captain. I estimate another hour and a second test run will be required before I can recommend restarting the warp drive safely.”

Her words were brisk and precise, the famous mark of the ever so logical Vulcans. Siyeon had been the Vulcan to beat him in the subjects he’d hadn’t come top in at the Academy, her analytical mind pursuing her to move through the engineering ranks. When he’d seen her name available for his crew he’d jumped to bring her aboard, promoting her to a senior rank.

She was exactly like she’d been at the Academy, almost unaged due to her extended Vulcan lifespan. Long black hair in an understated cut, eyebrows in a straight line that made it a little hard to understand what she was thinking sometimes and the familiar pointed ears of her race. Due to the same origins of their species, she looked remarkably similar to Jimin with his ruffled black hair, straight brows and pointed ears.

Jungkook was glad to have her on board though. He felt like she could see problems that he hadn’t even considered before and sometimes came up with solutions that seemed surprisingly creative for a Vulcan. Though her second was a human. Chaos incarnate.

“Great, let me know when it’s ready and we’ll give it a try.”

“Acknowledged.” 

He has to purse his lips to stop himself from laughing at her brusque dismissal. It was still jarring to be dealt with in so quick of a manner but Jungkook knew that Siyeon didn’t mean to be rude. She just had more important things to worry about. 

“Jimin,” Jungkook called out to the Romulan, looking back and taking in his immediately alert stance. “Are the sensors showing anything?”

His direct gaze leaves Jungkook’s to look down at his console once more, fingers flying as he taps in commands and looks over everything. The top part of Jimin’s uniform above his heart is solid gold in colour, signifying he’s part of the operations division. It makes his slim shoulders look slightly broader, but not by much.

“Nothing in front or to the side of us, sir. I can’t confirm behind us. We’re still too close to the nebula and our sensors can’t penetrate.” Jungkook always found it a little odd, even after six months, to be staring at someone who resembled a stoic Vulcan so strongly and yet was the complete opposite. Jimin spoke with urgency, a slight tinge of worry in his voice as he was unable to give Jungkook everything he wanted while his brows dipped towards each other as his face gave away even more.

Romulans had never embraced cold logic like their cousins. If anything, Jimin was prone to bouts of rage if he was pushed to his limit. Quick to take offence and even quicker to take action. An unfortunate Romulan trait.

“That’s fine Commander, don’t worry too much over it. We’re still moving away so keep checking. Sensors at max, I want to be aware of every tiny meteor flying even remotely near us in this sector. I do not want to be surprised.” A brusque nod accompanied Jimin’s acknowledgement and Jungkook turned his attention to the next thing on his list.

Looking over to the chair next to him, he raised a slight brow at the Bajoran male sitting there. For a few moments, Commander Yoongi Min didn’t seem to realise his captain wanted his attention. He was too busy scanning over a datapad that had been handed to him by an ensign.

“Min?” Jungkook prompted, causing Yoongi to look up abruptly. The familiar ridges on the upper bridge of his nose gave away his Bajoran heritage, alongside the traditional decorative earpiece that was connected with tiny chains to the shell of his ear, an important part of his culture.

Licking his lips, Yoongi coughed slightly before nodding as he collated the reports he’d been given while Jungkook’s had been busy. 

“Sickbay reports ten injured when the conduits blew on deck 11, section B and C. No other casualties. Engineering teams have already repaired those conduits. Holodeck 1 is out for the moment due to a power surge caused. No ETA for the moment.” He carried on, the reports less important now he’d gotten the big ones out of the way but Jungkook still listened intently as his mind raced.

Once finished, he nodded his thanks to Yoongi before contacting sickbay for an update from his Chief Medical Officer, Dr Dahyun Troi. 

“Dr Troi, how are the casualties? Are you okay down there? Do you need any extra help?” There was a brief pause but he didn’t push it. He may be the captain of this starship but the Chief Medical Officer was the only person who was allowed to give him orders if necessary. The last thing he wanted was to aggravate her.

“Captain, we’re looking good here. I’ve already treated and released four of the casualties. Another three are probably going to be able to go in half an hour once I’ve given them a final scan. The last three are going to be here a little longer, I’m afraid. Ensign Adewale has a crushed left leg that will require surgery to repair while Lieutenant Martinez has suffered head trauma. I can’t give a firm diagnosis on Lieutenant Kapoor, though I do have a feeling that we may have to divert to a Starbase for the medical facilities there to look after her. There may be amputation required.” Dahyun’s voice was calm and gentle despite what she was reporting.

It made her the perfect doctor in Jungkook’s opinion. Always reassuring and with a soft tone of tranquillity, she managed to keep her patients relaxed even under the most stressful and painful of times. 

Which made sense. She was half-human and half-Betazoid, a telepathic race which allowed them to be empathic. The ship’s counsellor, Commander Taehyung Grax, was a full Betazoid. His stronger abilities made him a better option for sensitively dealing with the crew's psychological issues.

“Okay, keep me updated on whatever you need. We’ll plot a course to the nearest Starbase just in case.” Jungkook responds, ending the communication. Taking in a deep breath, he just lets himself have a moment to compile his thoughts and just...breathe. He hasn’t slept in almost twenty-four hours.

Logically, he knows that he could just leave the bridge and get some rest. Yoongi would keep track of everything for him and call him back if anything critical needed his attention.

The soft noise of the elevator doors opening caught his attention, looking over to see you walking out with your usual, self-assured strides. Your face was carefully blank, the Borg implant along your jawline matched with another at your temple. They’d been too interwoven with important nerves to be removed.

“Captain, the astrometrics lab is functioning as expected-” Anything else you were about to say is cut off by the sudden movement of Lieutenant Commander Jung Hoseok. The Chief Security Officer, normally so jovial and bright, moved at what seemed like warp speed to the main area of the bridge, his phaser pointed in front of him while he called for more security.

“Who are you. Identify yourself.” He said sternly, his elegant face like a stone as he watches the newcomer with wary eyes. Every tiny movement is tracked and before Jungkook even realises what he’s doing, he’s standing as well. Brow creasing, he looks over the man who has appeared in a flash of white light.

“I know who he is,” Ensign Namjoon Dax, the chief helmsman said softly. “He’s a Q.”

“Oh no, please no.” Yoongi moaned softly from Jungkook’s side, a hand coming to rub at his face. There was no need for Jungkook to question why he was reacting like that because even he knew what that meant. It had, unsurprisingly, become required reading to go over the reports from Captain Picard, Captain Janeway and Captain Sisko regarding their encounters with the being simply known as ‘Q’.

It was both his name and the name of his race. Extra-dimensional beings with immense power over time, space and plenty of other things that Jungkook desperately didn’t want to get involved with. Like the laws of physics, for starters.

Q was not something that any Starfleet officer wanted to get involved with. Because for as monumentally powerful as they are, as knowledge as they were, they were like petulant children. Constantly bored and wanting to play with the ants. Of which Starfleet ships often ended up being their playthings.

“You’re right, I’m a Q. How did you know? It’s my dashing good looks, isn’t it? Nothing in your universe could possibly compare to this exquisite facade. Handcrafted by the...well I don’t know but that’s not important.” Q said, his full lips spreading into a beautiful smile.

He wasn’t wrong. The alien man stood before Jungkook was good looking, to the point it almost looked unnatural. Tall and with broad shoulders, he had jet black hair that was swept off his forehead in an elegant style while his large eyes practically sparkled with mischief.

It made Jungkook feel ill.

“I know...because I’ve dealt with a Q before. The Q.” Namjoon is still sitting at this console, the red of his uniform denoting his command division and Jungkook feels a small swell of pride at how calm he’s being. Although, there’s no reason to get hysterical. From what he’d read, there was absolutely nothing he could do to make Q disappear until he got bored and left.

“Really? I don’t remember you,” Q said, puckering his lips into a pout while one dark brow rose as he scanned over the helmsman. “Handsome, tall, those familiar markings on your face...you’re a Trill. Do you have one of those creepy worm things in your stomach too?”

Gesturing towards Namjoon, Q’s nose scrunches up in disgust. Trill’s were a humanoid race and some of them were ‘joined’ with a symbiont. A worm-like creature that could only live in the body of a Trill, which was passed from host to host. As a result, Namjoon had the memories and knowledge of all the former hosts of his symbiont.

Including meeting Q, apparently.

“I have a symbiont, yes. And you won’t remember me. I’ve only been joined for a year. You might remember one of my previous hosts though? Jadzia Dax? From Deep Space 9?” There’s a brief moment of quiet as Q thinks before his mouth drops open and he points at Namjoon.

“Yes! You were very beautiful. Though you wore blue then, not red? And you were a woman. Is it strange, going from gender to gender?”

“No. It’s natural. I’m the Chief Helmsman of the Yi Sun-Sin whereas Jadzia was a science officer. You don’t look like that Q though.” Clearing his throat, Jungkook tries to turn the conversation to himself. He was the captain of this ship, after all, it felt odd to be so clearly excluded from the conversation.

“Oh well, that wasn’t me. That was my brother, Q. He shared his memory of you, that’s why I know. I’m Q. But I’ve been quite bored lately so I thought I’d try out this whole...living like one of you things. So, you can call me Captain Seokjin! Reporting for duty!” He says this brightly, grinning as he salutes. There’s another flash of light and suddenly, the plain white robes he’d been wearing are turned into a Starfleet uniform.

A command uniform...with the relevant pips of a Starfleet Captain on his collar.

Letting out a groan, Jungkook tries to control himself as he realises that he wasn’t going to be getting out of this easily. A Q who wanted to be human, or at least act like a Starfleet officer? At least cadets at the Academy were going to remember his name after being forced to read this report as well.

“You can’t just...turn up here and demand to be part of our crew,” Jungkook states, as calmly as he can with high blood pressure rising this much. “Can’t you...go to one of the inhabited planets if you want to live like us? Find a city and-”

“Pssht!” He’s interrupted by Q, or rather Seokjin, lifting a hand and making a gesture as if he was trying to blow away a bad odour. Baffled at being interrupted so blasé, Jungkook just stares at him for a moment with wide eyes before looking over at Yoongi. His second-in-command just gave him an unsure shrug, uncertainty written all over his face.

“I said I want to live like one of you. That means on one of your fancy starships, getting into danger and fighting bad guys. I wanna pew pew everyone!” Finger guns at the ready, Seokjin pretends to fire at Hoseok. When his Chief Security Officer just scowls at the intruder, Seokjin just grins and laughs.

Pressing at his temple, Jungkook reminded himself that headaches didn’t exist anymore. They’d been cured long ago. He was just feeling a phantom headache, that was all.

“You can’t just...waltz onto a starship and give yourself a command. For starters, there’s only one captain and that’s me. Another point is that you are most definitely not qualified to be on this ship. You haven’t passed Starfleet Academy, therefore you can’t be given a rank of any kind. And even if I did give you a field rank, it would be Ensign. Because I don’t know what you can do. If I’d even want to let someone as...chaotic as you even touch anything.” Maybe he went a little too far with that. Some of his words felt a little bit harsh and Jungkook had to work hard not to give away that he was uncomfortably aware that he might have pissed the omnipotent being off.

But all Seokjin does is sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes and flapping his arms around in a remarkably childlike tantrum. 

Subtly raising one hand, Jungkook calls for the security team to stand down. They do so slowly, unhappiness at the order apparent but they can’t go against their captain’s order. Straightening, Hoseok keeps a firm hand on his phaser, the gold of his uniform clashing slightly with the red he’d decided to colour his hair with recently.

“Why not? I’m more powerful than you anyway. I could take you places you’ve never even heard of. How about the Kinmara system?” Clicking his fingers, there’s a flash of light and the view out of the large screen changes abruptly. Instead of the vast expanse of space, there’s a large planet creeping into view.

“What the...where are we?” Jungkook asks, looking over at Jimin with wide eyes. His operations officer is staring with equally wide eyes before scanning the information on his console, rapidly touching it as he changes what he sees. 

“I...I don’t know. The star charts don’t match up with any of the stars out there and we don’t have this planet in the system. From what I can see...it’s an M-Class with a breathable atmosphere. Gravity slightly stronger than Earth but within acceptable parameters. Multiple life signs across the planet.” He stutters slightly, eyes flickering from the view to Seokjin before moving back to Jungkook.

An M-Class meant it was habitable to life forms like humans or Vulcans. The fact that it wasn’t charted, or explored, meant that Seokjin had no doubt used his immeasurable powers to transport the Yi Sun-Sin who knows how many lightyears away from their previous location.

“Yes, it’s called Kinmara. The system is named after it. It has two moons, one of which is also inhabited and is called Breehana. Lovely place, the weather is beautiful and the ocean is just right. Only the ocean is pink, as you can see. I love pink, it’s so pretty to look at, don’t you think? Anyway, the Mara’s, the name of the race down there, don’t get many visitors so you might find it interesting to visit.” Looking back over at the Q, Jungkook realises suddenly that he’s also materialised himself into a fancy chair.

It takes a lot of effort to bite his tongue and not snap at the powerful being. Jungkook needs to get back to where they were, and Seokjin is the only one who can do that. Especially when they didn’t even have warp drive yet.

“I’m sure it’s a lovely place to visit, but right now I would appreciate it if you would just transport us back to where we were? You see, we need to make some final repairs to our warp drive so we’re not interested in exploring Kinmara right now. But if you let us know where it is on a star chart then I’m sure someone at Starfleet will eventually get round to exploring it closer.” Giving a genial smile, Jungkook gives himself a mental pat on the back. He didn’t even sound remotely annoyed then, perfect.

Only he forgot that he’s not dealing with some rational lifeform. He’d read enough about the previous encounters with Q, and read the regulations on how to handle an encounter with one, plenty of times to know that there was no such thing as rational to them. They did what they wanted, when they wanted and how they wanted.

Unfortunately, this Q had chosen the Yi Sun-Sin to be his plaything for today. Which meant that headache that shouldn’t exist was beginning to very much feel like it existed.

“Oh, are we not exploring today? How about some action instead? I know the perfect place.” Another snap of his fingers and everything goes white once more. What takes a mere second feels like minutes, with Jungkook dreading what they’ll be faced with. Because if there’s one thing he’s certain of right now, it’s that it would not be where they’d started.

He’s greeted with a vista of space when he finally opens his eyes, the twinkling lights of far-off stars as familiar to him as the back of his hand. A welcoming sight.

What is not welcoming, however, is the immediate alarm that begins to blare through the bridge. Automatically, the lights dim and a familiar, if unwanted, red light begins to flash throughout the bridge while screens begin to show what the ship deems to be important information. 

Red alert. The standard Starfleet setting for when enemy ships are detected or they go to battle stations. Automatically, the ship has put itself into red alert when something has triggered its sensors. Under normal circumstances, this would mean the Yi Sun-Sin would be primed and ready for battle with weapons ready.

With no warp drive though, it was just a foreboding sound that chilled Jungkook to his very bones. Because there was something out there. Something that his ship deemed a danger to itself and her crew. Something he couldn’t fight.

“Sensors?!” He barks, jerking into movement. Hoseok doesn’t even waste a breath, practically leaping behind the security console and tapping at the screen. There’s no need to ask what he’s doing, Jungkook already knows that he’s trying to see if there’s anything they could do to fight.

“One ship, sir. It’s spotted us, five-million kilometres out and closing. It’s…” Jimin trails off, his already pale face draining even more as his mind acknowledges what he’s reading. His reaction alone makes Jungkook feel sick. Romulans weren’t prone to fear when it came to fighting. They lived for this kind of stuff, beaten only perhaps by the Klingons.

“It’s a Borg sphere, Captain.” The soft words come from behind him and he spins around, eyes widening while the rest of his expression freezes in dual shock and dismay. Your face is carefully neutral, just like it always is and he watches as you work through the data on your astrometrics panel. The sensors for your area are far more sensitive than the general navigation, which makes it no surprise that you’d figured it out first.

“Borg?” He almost whispers. There’s no need to look at the rest of the crew. The subtle wave of fear at the incoming ship moves around the bridge like a harsh wind. But at the same time, he feels a thread of pride at the actions of his senior command. No one panics or starts shouting, instead there’s an odd silence that soon turns the fear into resolve.

There may not be a lot that they could do, but Jungkook would be damned if the Yi Sun-Sin didn’t go down fighting in some way. Even if he had to ram the sphere. Did it make him a bad captain if he’d much rather his crew die in a suicide mission than be assimilated into a lifeless collective?

Glancing back over at you, he sees what no one else does. The fear in your eyes. The pure terror at the knowledge that the Collective you had once been a part of was so close to taking you again. From many conversations with you over the months, both casual and a little more intimate just before sleeping, Jungkook knew that you would rather die than go back.

There was no individual in the Borg. No one person, no freedom of thought of free will. There was only the Collective. A central mind that connected to every single Borg throughout the galaxy, billions upon billions of minds all working as one with no thoughts of their own. You had immeasurable knowledge from all the information that the Borg had harvested from the races they had assimilated over time, but you were terrified of losing your individuality once more.

A Borg drone, which you had once been, was nothing. The Collective thought nothing of killing off drones they deemed defective or those that couldn’t be repaired. There was no compassion, no empathy. No love.

Yes. Jungkook would rather his crew die than put them through that. He didn’t think he’d have many complaints about it either.

Perhaps a little selfishly too, he couldn’t bear the thought of putting you through that once more. You’d finally learnt how to be an individual once more and were exploring your humanity. The thought of you lost forever once more was even more painful.

Looking over at Seokjin, Jungkook gritted his teeth and pointed at him with fury. If only the Q didn’t have the kind of power that Jungkook couldn’t even begin to imagine or understand. He would sincerely love to punch the smug, handsome asshole.

“Take. Us. Back. I told you, we have no warp drive! That means we have no weapons! You’re not going to get the battle you wanted. We can’t fight the Borg, not like this. Take us back! You can be on the ship, fine whatever! Just...don’t touch anything and let us just do our mission! Please.” He begged, about ready to get on his knees if necessary. 

Maybe it wasn’t very becoming for a Starfleet captain, but he didn’t care right now. He had no idea where they were in the galaxy and if the Borg got them, then Starfleet would never know either. The Yi Sun-Sin would go down as missing in action, just another mystery that would never be solved.

But Seokjin’s attention has moved onto you, a curious expression taking over. Tilting his head slightly, he walks over to you with long, elegant strides that make it seem like he’s been on this bridge many times. It annoys Jungkook and he has to ball his hands into fists to stop himself from lashing out at the Q.

You could take care of yourself, he knew that. Jungkook had far more important things to stress over than Seokjin taking a sudden interest with you. So it’s with great pains that he turns away and begins to bark orders at his bridge crew, demanding the status of weapons before patching through to engineering and getting an update from them.

“What are you?” Seokjin asks you, eyes of a deep chocolate brown scanning your frame up and down repeatedly. Unlike anyone else on the bridge, the colour of the top portion of your uniform is blue. A signifier of the science division, it was rare for you to be on the bridge; Jungkook wished that you weren’t here right now given the way Seokjin was looking at you speculatively. 

He shouldn’t have been concerned though because you handled the omnipotent being with the same, cool regard that you did everything else. It had been a little frustrating when he’d first taken command, even more so when he’d realised that he had a potential romantic interest but he loved it right now.

Because you just stared at Seokjin, your gaze not giving away a single hint of emotion or expression. A slight tilt of your head gives away that you’re considering him and Jungkook probably shouldn’t get as much satisfaction as he does by the way Seokjin shuffles, almost as if he’s awkward.

“You are a Q. The Borg have never met your species before. I have no frame of reference for how to engage with you except for the reports from Starfleet.” As usual, your words are straightforward and precise. No one ever has to worry about whether you hold hidden intentions, it’s simply not in your nature anymore to engage in subterfuge.

“The Borg,” Seokjin sounds surprised and he scans over you a few more times, brow rising. “You can’t be an actual Borg, they wouldn’t let you stay here. Not to mention you don’t have all that ugly machine stuff on you. Humanoid and in a Starfleet uniform. You were a Borg, but now you’re not with the Collective anymore. How fascinating.”

“Very. Captain, if you will excuse me then I have duties to attend to.” You’re looking at Jungkook now, lips pursed expectantly. Pausing in his questions to everyone else, Jungkook nods and permits you to leave the bridge. It’s not unnoticed by him the way Seokjin watches you in fascination as you leave. His stomach turns at the sight and worry fills him.

Not that there’s any point. You can take care of yourself and more importantly, none of them could stop whatever Seokjin wanted to do.

“How very interesting.” Jungkook can’t help but glare at the Q as he watches you leave, twisting his lips in a bizarrely human gesture. Finally, he reaches his boiling point and points in frustration out of the viewscreen.

“Borg. Danger. Leave. Now.” Part of him knows that he shouldn’t be as blunt and rude, not when the situation was this dangerous. But he didn’t care, he just wanted his crew and ship away from danger. Something that Jungkook couldn’t do himself. He’d begged, he’d argued and now he was being firm.

If Seokjin wanted to pretend to be part of his crew then he would have to learn to take orders from him. It was the only way this whole stupid thing was going to work without causing Jungkook some serious stress. The very fact that he was even considering this said volumes about the fear and pressure Jungkook was under right now.

Exhaling slowly, he pleaded with himself internally to keep himself calm. From what he’d read about the Q, and that was the race as a whole, it wouldn’t do to antagonise him. It’d do no one any good if he decided to just disappear, leaving the Yi Sun-Sin to its fate.

“Fine, fine. Urgh, you lower lifeforms have no sense of adventure. You’re all so boring.” A click of his fingers sends everything white once more. Once his vision clears, Jungkook immediately starts barking orders to his crew. He didn’t need to though, they were automatically moving like a well-oiled machine.

“We’re back where we started, captain,” Jimin confirms with a nod of his head, his gaze still focused on the readout from his console. He doesn’t say anything more, his fingers too busy darting across the screen as he takes in what he’s seeing.

“Well, this was a waste of my time. I’ll be back when the fun starts.” With that, Seokjin vanishes. The bridge is eerily silent for a few minutes after he’s gone, everyone looking at each other in confusion as the red alert status disappears now they’re safe again.

“Is he gone?” Yoongi asks, looking over at Hoseok. The security chief glances down to his console, lips pursing as he scans through the information before nodding his head slowly.

“No...Q life-signs detected on board. Or rather, only what we expect should be onboard. Looks like he’s really gone.” Something inside Jungkook relaxes and he suddenly feels so, unbelievably, tired. Groaning quietly, he flops back into the captain’s seat and rubs at his forehead. He should visit the medical bay, it’s not natural to have a headache.

“Okay. Okay, well. He’s going to come back, we know that. Just be prepared, warn everyone on board and I want to be informed the moment he turns out. Hoseok, you better make sure your security team is ready for anything he decides to do. I know you probably can’t do anything but it’ll sure as hell make me feel better. Yoongi, get onto engineering and see if they can speed this whole thing up. I want to be gone as soon as possible, is that understood?” Yoongi nods, automatically turning to the interface in his chair.

“Yes sir, I’ll collate reports from all departments and send them to your ready room.” Nodding to his second-in-command, Jungkook stands and stretches with a groan. He’d spent long enough on the bridge and he just wanted some time to relax. But he couldn’t do that, not yet.

“Great. I’m going to head to sickbay, check-in with Dr Troi as my head is killing after that incident. Then I’m gonna try and get some rest. You’ve got the bridge Yoongi, once the engines are fixed and working then get us going again. Warp 8, back on our path. And...send a report to Starfleet about what’s happened. Try and get some advice on what to do with all this. Everyone good with their orders?” Looking around, everyone on the bridge nodded in acknowledgement to him and a weight lifted off his shoulders.

He had a good bridge crew, and he knew that he could rely on them while he was gone. Heading over to the turbolift, entering the circular car and asking for the desk that medical bay was one. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed as it began to move.

“Fuck.”

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #32 - Nobody’s Ever Actually Dead in Comic Books

Our band of merry guys-who-weren’t-on-the-Lost-Light-in-issue-#1 approach the shattered husk of the Lost Light, in a gruesome scene that is only slightly marred by the graphic design.

Font doesn’t really suggest danger, does it? Here, for comparison, is something I slapped together in fifteen minutes (including recreation of background) using a font I got off a free font site.

Now, one could say that my version is rather derivative, flat, and arguably cliche, but you know what else it is? Appropriate for the fucking mood of having found a destroyed, hemorrhaging ship after everyone you knew disappeared.

I’m available, IDW! Hit me up.

Theorizing that this is the ship that the Coffin Rodimus came from- remember that? It was a few issues ago- the gang flies in for a closer look. The ship blood is actually something called quantum foam, which allows for quantum space travel to happen. It’s not supposed to be outside of the quantum quills, but the ship’s pretty junked up, so it is.

Because the ship is so very full of holes, the gang can set down for repairs pretty easy. They land in Swerve’s, finding it in less-than-pristine condition. They also find evidence of Crosscut having gotten creative, as a poster for the play he was working on is hung up in the room. Considering he was still writing it when he disappeared, this might seem a bit odd. But then you remember that this is a ship from the future, and it stops being so odd.

Because this is a future ship, with evidence that Crosscut did some stuff, it stands to reason that, at some point, everyone is going to come back from being disappeared.

Just to die.

Which is a bummer, but one crisis at a time.

Megatron disembarks the Rod Pod, with Ravage following, and everyone is just a touch put off by the duo. Everyone but Nautica, who proceeds to commit a microaggression.

Nautica, that’s Soundwave’s father you’re petting like a common animal.

Ravage, angered by this over-familiarity, swats at her. Skids questions letting an active Decepticon roam around, but Megatron brushes off these concerns, saying that finding any still-living crew members is more important. With that, the search begins.

The gang splits up to look for clues, despite Riptide thinking this is a horrible idea. They’re on the clock for this one- the quantum foam is liable to explode if it touches anything, and there’s an awful lot of the stuff floating around right now.

Nightbeat and Nautica leave the rest of the group to their own work, seeing as Nautica has the most appropriate alt-mode for traversing the gaps in the ship.

Man, that’s pretty cool. Wish Nautica hadn’t been regulated to being “girl best friend” for her character arcs, I would have loved to see her do some neat stuff for her own development. Guess that’s what happens when you get introduced as main cast late, and have to compete with all the faves who had dozens of issues to be established and who also don’t have to deal with the whole “token girl character” thing.

The rest of the gang- Megatron, Ravage, Riptide, Skids, and Getaway- start looking in the area they’re already in. Seems a little lopsided, but whatever.

Ravage finds someone almost immediately, identifying Ultra Magnus through smell alone. Only, it isn’t just Ultra Magnus.

The Magnus armor lays not terribly far away, having had its hands cut off to prevent the recall signal from being activated before being gut-murdered.

Gut-murdered wiTH A FUSION CANNON, MEGATRON

Of course, Megatron was forced to destroy his fusion canon after it was decided he would be joining the Lost Light, but you can buy these things off the black market like it’s nothing. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if Brainstorm had a few stashed in his lab.

As it currently stands, nobody can trust the guy who has a storied past of killing Autobots, on a future ship where the only folks who could stop him are dead. Megatron, at least, has the good sense to not argue this fact, and suggests that the boys lock both Ravage and himself up until they suss out exactly what happened.

Meanwhile, over with Nautica and Nightbeat, we run through all the weird shit that’s happened in the last day or so.

Nautica, you’ve been on this ship for months now. How did you miss the fact that the only couple within 800 miles got annihilated by way of Phase Sixer? I feel like that attack might have come up at some point.

Since they’re on the subject of spouses, Nightbeat asks Nautica if she’s married, or if she has friends. Though noting that such a direct line of questioning might get him slapped with someone else, Nautica reveals that she is single, though she does have a best friend. Nightbeat is also single, probably because he pulls shit like this.

While this conversation is going on, Nautica uses her Sonic Screwdriver wrench to open a door with the literal push of a button. Brainstorm tricked out her wrench so hard it turned into a magic wand, which is good, because they’re going to need all the help they can get now that space is literally warping around them thanks to the quantum foam.

Nautica kicks something on the elevator, and that something turns out to be Brainstorm’s mysterious briefcase. Too bad Swerve is gone, he was so invested in what it contained. Luckily, Nightbeat is just as interested.

Back over on the other side of the ship, it seems as though Megatron kept his word about not resisting, as both he and Ravage have been locked in a cabinet. Wonder how that’s going for them.

Oh, better than I expected.

Ravage is fucking pissed that Megatron joined the Autobots, thereby turning his back on everyone who supported his cause during the last four million years. Despite this grievous betrayal though, the Decepticons haven’t stopped moving. Turns out, Galvatron’s in charge now.

But only if Autobot Megatron isn’t some sort of ploy.

It’s at this point that we learn just why Ravage is here to begin with- to see if Megatron’s truly given up the Decepticons, and if he has, to murder him. But first he’d like to know why this is happening.

Megatron views himself as a monster, having perpetuated a war that ended the lives of billions, destroyed the Cybertronian way of life, ostracized his race from the rest of the universe, and killing just to have something to do. He doesn’t like feeling this way about himself, so he decided to walk away from that life by joining the other team.

Don’t think it’s quite that easy to do, but okay.

Ravage isn’t so sure that this change of heart is going to stick, still convinced that Megatron will snap back to his old self with just a bit more time. Problem is, Megatron may not have a ton of that resource left.

Didn’t they build that body in like an hour so you wouldn’t die? Yeah, no wonder it feels as ill-fitting as a twenty-dollar suit. Thing’s probably made out of pig iron and duct tape.

The lights come on before further self-reflection can be done, and the duo realize that they’ve had guests this whole time.

Someone put the kettle on.

Obviously some fucked up shit happened on this ship. Megatron isn’t so sure that it’s him who did these dirty deeds, however, as he reaches into Ratchet’s mouth and pulls out his brain. Which feels like something that doesn’t really absolve one of guilt, but okay.

Also, ew.

Back with Nautica and Nightbeat, things are getting weird.

Now, this sequence might seem confusing at first blush, but this is because the laws of reality are collapsing around them. Going by clues in the background, we can find the proper, linear progression of time, and thus is conversation. This is what is actually happening:

With the mystery of Brainstorm’s briefcase eluding us once again, we move on to see more graphic aftermaths of violence. Poor Tailgate has been nailed to the wall with a chunk of a metal beam that’s almost as big as he is. The mood lighting for this scene is gorgeous, but I’ve hit my limit for exposing y’all to gore for this issue, so you’ll just have to trust me on this one. Then they find something even more interesting.

Who’s ready for Under Cold Blue Stars… 2!

Back over on the opposite side of the ship, Riptide’s found something nasty. It’s a bunch of dead bodies!

Including, uh, Pipes.

Who already died a while ago.

Hm.

All the bodies in this room are in their alts, and it looks like they’ve all been shot and drilled into, for some reason. Skids brings up that he had a friend who could identify the placement of any robot’s brain module just by knowing what they turned into. Then he reaches into a corpse to see what the drill-hole’s all about. It makes him sick, though maybe not for the reason you might think. He gets on the phone with Nightbeat, who’s called to tell them that they’ve found Overlord.

Still locked in his weird body harness.

And decapitated.

Megatron is on the other line, calling because he’s figured out the same thing Skids has. Someone paid a visit to this ship. Someone nasty.

The gang regroups, and Nautica gets the basics on the DJD, because I guess nobody’s mentioned them even in passing in the last six months, either.

God, what do they even talk about on this ship? Certainly not their feelings.

The reason that one room was filled with alt-modes was because of Tarn’s addiction to transforming; t-cogs are easier to remove when they’ve been used recently.

We get a quick 4/5ths-page gore-fest, then it’s back to making it all about Megatron.

Maybe you should have thought about that before you FUCKING DEFECTED, YOU POOL NOODLE.

Nightbeat’s beginning to put two and two together. There’s an Overlord in the basement. That shouldn’t be, because Overlord got exploded by Chromedome when he mercy-killed Rewind. Something is off about the past of this ship.

Before he can establish his MTMTE everybody-lives-but-then-dies AU though, the quantum foam fucks with the ship. These sons of guns need to get the hell out of here, pronto.

Oh god, what now?

Ravage smells someone inside the Magnus armor, someone who isn’t a part of the usual nesting doll lineup. Megatron reaches into the Crackerjack box and pulls out one hell of a prize.

HE LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVES

Chromedome would be so thrilled, if he still existed.

[peachyteabuck]

i’m a money symbol

summary: when ransom finds out he’s been cut from the will, there’s a different reason he flies into a murderous rage 

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

words: 1655

trigger warnings: degradation, findom/sub dynamics, sex work, 

notes: thank you to @helahades​ for talking to me about this concept when i was still debating writing it. ur an enabler but i love u very much

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

Ransom stares at you with eyes that rival that of pleading puppies - large and watery and a deep, deep blue. His clean-shaved face, tear-stained and reddened from the sobs that still riddle his body, is equally as pathetic.

“I-I promise I-I can pay you s-”

You cut him off with the raise of a single sculpted eyebrow, looking down at him as he falls to his knees - body folded and hands clasped together like a fervent believer praying for forgiveness after committing some heinous sin, or a servant begging their superior to let them keep their lowly position. Either analogy seems fitting given the circumstances, given his lack of inheritance and the slowly declining numbers in his bank account.

“One thing,” you hiss, lifting one of your expensive Louboutin heels so that it presses into the base of his neck, forcing his body into an even more unnatural position. He groans just a little at the pain - ass (and much more of him, probably) still sore from last night’s session. You ignore him. “I ask for one thing. It’s not hard. In fact, it was the one thing you could do quite well. Any now, what, you have none?”

Ransom gulps, nearly out of breath. “I-I have money it’s just that I-, I’m cut off right now I sw-”

The pointed heel presses further, his legs spreading underneath him to make room as his nose nearly touches the recently cleaned red oak flooring.

“Shut the fuck up,” you hiss, practically spitting as you glare down at him. “Only good little boys who pay me to earn the right to speak to me are allowed to blubber like children.”

He whimpers as the sharp pain from your expensive shoe merges with the clumsy position of his limbs to settle in his blood – his whole body screaming like a banshee as his cock strains in his years-old designer skinny jeans.

“The worst part is,” you sigh, watching his muscles strain just as heat settles in your stomach. Slowly, but surely, it moves to your core. “I was looking forward to seeing you again. Can you imagine such a thing? Me, looking forward to seeing one of you stupid little pay pigs…”

A dry laugh fills the air that sense another wave of arousal through his nervous system, his muscles and brain screaming at him to get up and walk the Hell out of there while his cock pleads with him to stay in place.

“Now get naked,” you sigh, swishing the sweet cocktail in one of the glasses monogrammed with your initials you had gotten as a gift (again, not from Ransom) last year. “I know of a way you can be of use to me.”

Immediately he strips, your gaze heated and targeted as he peels that damned sweater he refuses to replace from his toned body. He sucks in a sharp breath as the air – cool despite the roaring fire – hits his bare skin, goosebumps erupting all over as he shivers under your heated gaze.

It’s amusing, to say the least, to watch his clothes hit the floor, kicked aside as if they were something worse than trash despite their designer tags. Money means nothing to Ransom Drysdale-Thrombey if it’s not being spent on you.

Without preamble, you kick him with a single heeled foot so that he’s knocked to his knees, hands strained at his sides as he desperately attempts to obey the rules that accompany punishments. As his eyes screw shut in pain, you take the few seconds to grab the worst thing you keep in the drawer of the small table next to your plush, deep purple velvet armchair. It’s the thing Ransom hates the most in this world – even more than his family or their stupid maid or being broke or even disappointing you.

Just as his eyes open, you lean down to lock his cock in the pink plastic cage with a wince-inducing click, depositing the key in the space between your chest and the baby pink fabric of your bralette. It’s simple, mostly sheer with embroidered flowers spanning over the length of each breast while barely concealing your hardened nipples. The matching panties show off your tummy and thighs – cutting you in just the right places so that you look even more heavenly than usual.

“Fu-uck,” he moans when he realizes what’s happened, what you’ve done to him. It’s almost cute in how pathetic it is, the sound he makes and the precum that gathers at the tip and how his stomach tightens with each breath. It’s cute how pathetic he is – how his face scrunches up and he bites his lips until they’re beautiful and plump. Ransom Drysdale-Thrombey may be a chauvinist asshole with an ego bigger than his trust fund (or, what he trust fund used to be), but damn can he be so pretty it hurts.

“Down,” is all you say, giving him a small hmm as he falls to all fours. His eyes remain focused on the ground as you haven’t given him permission to keep anything else in his eyeline. He doesn’t need to be told to keep his back straight, body barely flinching as you sit back down and plant your feet in the center of his spine, your authentic red bottoms a beautiful contrast to his milky skin.

“You like my shoes, baby?” you ask, rolling them back in forth against the ridges of his spine. “You got them for me when you had money—you weren’t as useless then…”

Ransom’s back is parallel to the plush white throw you’d placed on the ground for him, his palms, knees, and the front of his feet warming the fur as you rest your own feet in the center of his spine. He can’t see you as he faces your fireplace, doesn’t have the pleasure of watching you as you talk with other clients - other men with millions, maybe even billions more than him not only in their bank accounts, but in their futures. Your long acrylic nails, ones it pains him to think he didn’t pay for, taptaptap against your phone screen as messages are typed. Judging by the click he hears every so often (in combination with your shifting in your seat) Ransom assumes you’re also taking photos – but whether they’re of you to send to customers or of him to use as blackmail, he may never know.

It's painful in a plethora of ways – but the playboy can’t tell if the pit in his chest, the aching of his cock, or the sharp pain in his back hurts worse. None of these things improve with time, either, the hours marked by glasses of champagned downed and Venmo transfers made.

The only thing that makes it better is the familiar sound of your phone being locked and placed in the side table screen-down before your feet are planted back on the floor with two sharp clacks. Sounds that would normally make Ransom’s cock jump if not for the plastic that was locked around him.

“Get in position, you useless slut,” you hiss, your hand flying to this throat so you could squeeze a warning against his skin. “You’re going to pleasure me until I say you can stop.”

Ransom gulps, his eyes wide with fear and pupils blown from lust. He gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing in a way that reminds you of when he deepthroats one of your many, many straps, and bows his head in submission. “Y-yes Mistress,” he moans deep, his eyes fluttering shut as the sheer memory of your dripping cunt floods his mind. It’s been so long – too long – since he’s been with you, been inside you; and he’s desperate as you push your panties to the side to reveal your soaked lips.

Ransom waits for your nod of approval before he launches himself forward, placing wet kisses wherever he can reach. You’re sensitive already, little gasps falling past your lips when he takes your clit between his teeth and sucks.

You don’t do a lot of sex work that involves service clients – it’s exhausting, to say the least, requires a lot of set up and take down and the like. For a long while you did no contact work, but it was a few clients – Ransom included – that convinced you to break into it.

And, fuck does he make all the work worth it. His fingers slide into you with confidence and expertise, finding that special spot inside of you with ease, groaning into your dripping cunt each time you cry out his name.

“Jesus, baby boy,” you cry out between guttural moans. “You’re so fucking good for your Mistress aren’t you?”

He nods, flatting his tongue as his face moves up and down and that-

That is what breaks you.

You come on his face as your thighs nearly choke him – his hands digging into the insides of your thighs. Ransom himself can’t tell if he’s trying to pull him apart – desperate for air as his whole body goes cold from lack of oxygen – or if his arms holding them in place so he has the honor to die while experiencing pure euphoria. As your pussy pulses on his tongue Ransom wonders if he’s already passed over, if Heaven is the space between your legs and why he’s been allowed there despite his many, many sins.

It doesn’t take long before his movements slow for a moment, causing you to groan in frustration before grabbing his previously-impeccably styled hair.

“Did I tell you to stop, slut?”

He gives you a small whine before shaking his head, eyes large and jaw soaked.

You smile at his obedience. “Then get down there and eat me out until I’m crying.”

Ransom smiles before moving his head back down, returning to his position below you.

God, you think. This really is the best job ever.

[buckysrighthanddoll]

Bad Guy

Pairing: Loki x enhanced!Reader

Warnings: swearing, drinking, fluff, a lil angst, and some of the team realizing that Loki isn’t as bad as they thought he was

When you were left to babysit the God of Mischief, you weren’t phased in the slightest. Sure, there were some nerves involved; Loki was the self-proclaimed bad guy. He was the cause for countless deaths in the Battle of New York, he seemed to have minimal morals, and he had a particular distaste for humanity.

Thor brought him to earth--or Midgard, as they called it--so that Loki couldn’t wreak havoc on Asgard. He thought that his brother could use a fresh start. Loki claimed that he was sick of vying for more extraordinary things, which you believed was bullshit. This was Loki--his entire life was nothing but lies and tricks.

But, nevertheless, Tony agreed to keep him holed up in the tower. Loki was never to be alone, but that spelled bad news for anybody who wasn’t busy. More specifically, you; you weren’t the newest to the team, but you were the most humane Avenger who also had a lot of free time. You showed compassion beyond the other members, and therefore were a perfect fit for the job.

Loki mainly kept to himself. He was always in his room, but occasionally he snuck off to different areas of the compound. He always told someone beforehand, which made the team feel better, but the cameras were always kept trained on him.

The first time you were introduced to Loki, your enhanced eyes picked up on his aura. It was a dark indigo color, not too bright and not too dull. You sensed isolation and a looming sense of self-hatred. This was the first reason you took a liking to the prince. The indigo hue also meant that he was hyperaware of people’s intentions, especially the unspoken ones.

And the first time you watched over Loki, you sat in the living room with him and turned on some music while he read and you wrote. He hardly said a word, although you caught him staring at you occasionally. He would just smirk a little and look back down to his book, and you would furrow your eyebrows and continue writing.

You weren’t intimidated by Loki. No, you weren’t as powerful as him, but you could see things that others couldn’t. Auras were the easy part, but you also felt a person’s emotions (no matter how well they were hiding them), and you could sometimes hear a person’s thoughts and see their dreams.

At first, Loki saw you as weak and naive. How else could somebody be so open to dealing with him?

The next several times you watched over Loki, you found yourself getting more attached to him. The conversations weren’t deep, but they left your mind reeling. His head was hard to get into, but you still tried.

One night, Tony said to take over Sam’s shift while he went to a mission debriefing. You weren’t feeling well on a mental level, yet you agreed.

You got to Loki’s door and let Sam go, and then you knocked. Loki opened the door with a smug smirk, but it was quickly wiped away when he saw how you looked. Sweatpants and a hoodie weren’t exactly a rarity for you, but your eyes were red, and you had dark circles and messier-than-normal hair.

His eyebrows furrowed as he shifts his weight. “Can we just go lay outside or something?”

“Of course, love,” Loki responded. If you weren’t so preoccupied with dark thoughts, you’d have questioned the pet name. Loki snaps his fingers, and suddenly he’s out of his black suit and in a pair of grey sweatpants and a t-shirt.

He walked beside you to the roof, where the stars were shining as brightly as they could within New York’s light pollution. Loki remained silent as you laid your back against the cold concrete, and then he followed your actions.

“I’m sorry this isn’t our normal babysitting routine,” You said, laughing drily.

“Don’t apologize; this is quite relaxing,” He responded. You turned your head to face him, only to find that he was already looking at you. “Do you do this often? Look at the stars, I mean?”

“Only when I need perspective,” You shrugged.

“How so?”

You turned your head toward the sky, admiring the twinkling lights. “It’s easy to see the night sky as two-dimensional. It looks like someone covered the earth with a black piece of paper and poked holes in it to let the light through. But each one of those stars is millions of lightyears away. Billions, even. Humans could never even hope to travel to one of them or the solar systems that orbit.” You point out one of the stars--not that it mattered which one. “That star right there doesn’t give two shits about our problems. We are as indistinguishable to them as ants are to us. Sometimes I feel like the world is falling apart, but then I come up here, and I remember that the universe was fine without humans--and it will be fine without us once we go extinct.”

“You speak so beautifully,” Loki starts, sighing as he turns onto his side. “Your mind must be a terribly dark place.”

A scoff erupts from you, and then you’re looking at the god. “Am I that easy to read?”

“Not at all,” Loki says. “You’re always wearing a mask around the team--around me. But this is unadulterated emotion. It’s quite admirable.”

You didn’t notice it until now, but his aura has shifted. It was still a deep indigo blue, but it seemed as though his walls were let down. His emotions were more apparent than they had ever been, and his thoughts nearly screamed at you. He thought about your strength and resilience--how you’ve fought through more shit than many could handle. Yet, here you were, breathing and having philosophical conversations with a god from another world.

“You know,” You start, sitting up. “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.”

“And you don’t see it?”

“I see what’s inside. I see so much self-hatred that you’ve turned yourself into the monster others believed you were.” A short pause ensues as you allow Loki to interpret what you’re saying. “You’re not a monster, Loki.”

“I’ve killed thousands of people. I’m the prophetical cause of Ragnarok. I’m--”

“A misunderstood being who found that his whole life was a lie, and therefore became what others said you were. That’s not a monster. That’s a mask.”

“You’ve been in my mind, haven’t you?” He smirked.

You laid back down, shoulder to shoulder with the man beside you. “Only just now. Your walls are damn near impenetrable.”

“Good,” He quips jokingly. Silence falls between you, and all you can hear is the traffic from the city that never sleeps. You both resume staring at the stars until you’ve fallen asleep, and Loki carries you inside.

As Loki exits the elevator, Steve is scared to see you limp in Loki’s arms. Nat is on the defense until she sees that you didn’t pass out or die--you were leaning into Loki, an arm propped against his chest and your head in the crook of his neck.

“Loki what the--”

“Shh,” Loki interjects, making Steve even more upset. Natasha places a hand on his shoulder as a warning to calm down, and the three of them witness you stir a bit in your slumber and bury yourself deeper into Loki’s grasp. “She fell asleep on the rooftop; I’m just putting her in her bed.”

Steve fails to find words as Loki quietly walks down the hallway to your room. Once he gets Friday to let him in, he sets you on the bed. You wake up momentarily, only to ask him to stay with you for a bit. He supposed twenty minutes wouldn’t hurt, so he crawled under the sheets and laid next to you.

The instant you felt Loki’s coolness, you cuddled right into him. Your head rested on his chest, and your arm went around his torso to hold him tighter. What Loki didn’t expect was how warm this made him feel. He rests his arm around you and brings you in even closer. The twenty minutes he had planned on spending with you turned into an overnight stay; he fell asleep with you in his arms.

From then on, you were the only one to watch Loki when the team needed it. You were kind of bummed out that you were taken off missions, but the serenity of watching him made it okay. You watched movies together, stayed in your rooms and talked for hours on end, cooked together, and took naps together.

You hated to say it, but you were falling for Loki. He was respectful, and he was slowly (but surely) growing to tolerate humans and treat them as if they weren’t beneath him.

Tony had announced he would be throwing a party for Natasha’s birthday. He was going all-out and using the entire party deck--four floors included. You showed up late due to a doctor’s appointment earlier on, so the party was lively, and everybody was intoxicated.

You had on a little black dress, and you put effort into your hair and makeup. This was Nat’s birthday, after all, and you respected her a lot. You stayed by the bar area when you arrived to catch up to everybody else’s level of inebriation.

Loki found you less than ten minutes later. There was a clear connection between the two of you, to the point that you had considered that he was listening for your thoughts. “You look amazing, love,” He said, taking a seat next to you.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” You quipped, watching as the bartender placed five shots on the bar for you.

“Those for some friends?”

“No, they’re for me,” You responded, taking one after another. “I gotta catch up to the crowd.”

Loki chuckles, but then it drops when he sees the liquor cascading down your throat as if it’s water. “Dear, perhaps you should pace yourself.”

You shrugged and ordered a few more shots, and then a mixed drink to sip on. “I’ll be fine, Loki,” You started. You picked up the cup and chugged it back, going against the initial plan of taking it slow. Within minutes, you’re feeling the alcohol’s effects. Your mind goes fuzzy, as do your senses, and the world around you feels lighter. You decided to stop at this level for now since everything was pleasant. The loud music enticed you, and as you looked around, you saw Natasha dancing with Wanda. “And that is my cue,” You smiled, standing up. You wobbled slightly, but quickly caught yourself and briskly walked over to your teammates.

“Took you long enough,” Wanda laughed as you started dancing with them. Little conversation followed that, mostly dancing and singing to the songs.

A slower song came on, and the three of you groaned as you stepped away from the dancing crowd. Natasha and Wanda’s faces hardened as they looked just past you, which immediately told you that Loki was approaching. You turned around as he got next to you, holding out his hand.

“Would you do me the honor of sharing a dance with me?” He asked, his tone as elegant as ever. You smiled and nodded, grabbing on to his cold hand and letting him lead you a few feet over to the crowd’s edge. One of his hands settle at your waist, and yours goes to rest on his chest. He holds your other hand, and then the two of you are swaying to the beat. “They don’t like me, do they?” He asked.

You give a small smile. “It’s less that they don’t like you, and more that they don’t like you with me.”

“Well, I can’t say I blame them.”

“Why’s that?” You asked. Your eyebrows turn up slightly as you gaze up to him. Loki can’t help but think that you looked more beautiful than any goddess he had ever met.

“I’m the bad guy, remember?”

“That’s what people want you to be,” You remind him. He extends his arm to twirl you and then pull you close to him--chest to chest, face to face. “You aren’t a bad person. You put up a wall so that people can’t get close to you. When will you let them down, Loki?”

Loki looks like an angel with the aura surrounding him. It changed right in front of your eyes. Where it was once dark indigo, now it was a clear and bright red. It meant that he could overcome any obstacle and sincerely wanted to change his life for the better. It nearly took your breath away.

“Perhaps now would be a good time,” He whispered. His eyes danced from your eyes to your lips, giving a physical hint to something that you knew just from reading his thoughts. He leans down slightly to gauge your reaction; he finds you also leaning in slowly. Your lips meet somewhere in the middle, and you can just feel the energy that surrounded you both.

His lips, like the rest of his body, were cool to the touch. Yet, they welcomed the heat of your body, like two opposite ends of a magnet meeting. You slowed to a stop in your dance, focusing on the euphoria that a simple kiss brought you. Loki cups your cheek to pull you even closer. The kiss feels like it lasts years, but it was only a few seconds. Your eyes flutter open as you pull away, and a smile spreads across your face.

Nat and Wanda watch with dropped jaws from ten feet away. “I’m gonna kill him,” Wanda states.

“No, Wanda, look at her,” Nat says, directing her friend’s attention to you. “She’s smiling--she’s happy.”

“Maybe she’s faking it.”

“She isn’t faking it,” Natasha responds. “The look in her eyes gives it away. She loves him.” She adjusts her stance and focuses on Loki. “And look at Loki’s face. It has genuine emotion. It isn’t stoic; it isn’t sarcastic--he’s letting her in.”

“Well, I’ll be damned. Why didn’t she tell us?”

“She knows that nobody else trusts him.”

You could hear the conversation despite their hushed words. It was one of the perks of your enhancements. Loki could hear their thoughts, too, which caused him to smile even more. “Would you like to go to bed?” Loki asks you. You nod your head and let him lead you away from the party, into the elevator, and down to the residence levels.

You take off your makeup and change into comfortable clothes, and Loki does the same. It was routine now to hop into the bed together and immediately hold each other. This time, though, when the movie is turned on, neither of you focus on the plot. You’re too wrapped up in each other, kissing whenever one of you felt like it, talking here and there, and just being absorbed into each other’s consciousness.

Loki was the proverbial bad guy. He had done horrible things in his past, and he had turned himself into a monster because his father had told him he was one. But Loki wasn’t bad at all; he was misunderstood, yes, but not evil. This was a man that you could spend all of your days with, and who wouldn’t drain you. He was not a monster. He could never be a monster.

[jjk-biased]

jungkook x reader

requested by @atulipandarose (oooh soulmate/jungkook/one shot!! it's been big missing jk hours over here)

genre: fluff, soulmate au

words: 2.5k of dumb jungkook pining

warnings: none >< cussing here and there, also my first time writing just fluff so please be kind. unedited!!!

synopsis: jungkook never loved the idea of soulmates because he liked you and he wanted only you.

masterlist | events masterlist

There it was, the panging he felt in his heart even if he wasn’t the person in pain. As his chest throbbed, it was emotional pain he supposed, the song began to play in his head. He gritted his teeth, upset to have been reminded once again of the world he lived in. 

The world had to be so stupid to believe in such nonsense. It was idiotic. They had to be so naive to rely on  this whole scam - to the point where they even revolve their lives around it. 

It isn’t true. It’s far-fetched. This whole soulmate system wasn’t reliable.

He lived in a world where the universe decided who each person’s other was. Soulmates existed. It was everywhere. And he didn’t like it one bit.

Whoever made the world like this had to be an utter idiot. Why would anyone allow something like this to take over people’s lives? This bullshit soulmate system gave people a false sense of hope that someone out of the millions and millions of people would be the only right person for you. That somehow, out of 7.5 billion people, someone would be the perfect yin to your yang. 

It shouldn’t exist. Soulmates shouldn’t exist. 

Come to think of it, how can the universe even be so sure that the person they have “destined” for him is the right one? And, honestly, who even gave the universe the right to choose for him?

Fuck the universe, Jeon Jungkook wanted to pick for himself.

He thought this whole sham was an inconvenience. Unlike almost every love-crazed and soulmate-addict person, he thought otherwise. Jungkook felt suffocated at the thought of being tied down to someone who he probably didn’t even like. He didn’t need whoever they had for him. He didn’t have to meet this so-called pre-destined love of his life to live happily.

Actually, he did. Or else he would forever be haunted by it. He’d go crazy.

People had different “soulmate indicators” -- basically something in their body that gave them a hint on whoever they were destined for. Namjoon, his writer friend, had a tattoo of his soulmate’s name on his collarbone. Jimin, the short friend, had a ring on his finger with the initials of his soulmate and would even change colors depending on the mood of his other. One part of Taehyung's hair is the same color as his soulmate’s, regardless if he tried to dye it along with his locks. 

To say the least, theirs were easy to find, to discover - much more convenient than what the universe had in store for dear Jeon Jungkook. His had to be the most vague indicator of this whole scam. 

A song.

The universe gave Jungkook one specific song that only he and his soulmate knew. Not a name, not a ring, not even a hair color. Just one fucking song. 

Jeon Jungkook didn’t want to believe in this obviously fraudulent scheme that the universe set up. Despite his woes and resentment towards the system, Jungkook couldn’t exactly ignore it. The song, somehow sung by both him and the soulmate, always played in his head whenever he or the other would feel down. Somehow, it only played when any of them were sad. Not when they’re happy. Not when they’re angry. Not when they’re bored. Only when one or the other wasn’t feeling well.

But hey, at least he knew when it would start. 

There would always be a pang in his chest before it began. It was akin to when the dog dies in the movie, or when someone relayed bad news, or when the character in a book had to leave. The weird feeling would be eased immediately as soon as the song played in their head. It would lull him to sleep, he guessed it held the same effect for whoever was on the other side, and would make him feel at home. 

But he did not like this soulmate bullshit. 

Not one bit.

Even if the song brought him great comfort. Even if it was the only thing he looked forward to when he had a bad day. Even if his soulmate’s honey-like voice blended well with his. 

Wait shit, he should be hating this nonsense. Why did he just think that his soulmate sang nicely?

Fuck it. Forget what he thought. It didn’t matter anyway. 

He had other things to think about anyway, especially how to gain the courage to ask his friend out. 

Jungkook is currently and sadly a college student, who, aside from drowning in student debt, studies fine arts. He hopes to become a renowned artist someday, and in pursuing so, had to disobey his typical Asian parents’ wish for him to be called Dr. or Atty. someday. 

Soulmate hatred aside, art had always been his passion. Despite growing into a family full of doctors, lawyers, and judges, he knew his heart belonged in fine arts. When his brother would play with the toy syringes and stethoscopes, he would be seen getting himself dirty with the washable markers. That love for coloring grew into something more, and so Jungkook decided he would become an artist in the future. 

It was always so freeing for him to dabble in the blues and greens and create whatever he visualized in his mind. The pencil in his hand could easily convey the emotions he had trouble vocalizing. All of his troubles would go away faster than you can say worldwide handsome Jin-hyung with the aid of his drawing tablet. Everything about art just intrigued him. Art was easy. Art was comforting. 

Art is where he felt free.

It wasn’t suffocating. Unlike his family that wanted him to be someone he couldn’t become and this soulmate shit that wanted to cuff him down to one specific person he doubts would even go well with him. 

He wanted the soulmate system gone. For reasons that seemed justified to him and only him. 

He could live without the incessant nagging of his very traditional family who wanted to sped things up. Jungkook would finally stop seeing some of his soulmate-less acquaintances miserable. He could finally go on with his sad day without the song that would automatically play in his head. 

Wait… that last thought made him feel sad. Perhaps he would miss the song after all. 

Anyway, and above all, he could finally court his cute friend without having to worry of the soulmate shabang. 

Jungkook didn’t want whoever the universe paired him with. He wanted his cute seatmate and friend, Y/N Y/L/N.

Y/N Y/L/N. Your name was perfect. 

The way your name rolled off his tongue felt just right. The way your nose would scrunch as you focused on sketching the naked dude who had to pose in front of everyone. The way you would tilt your head when the professor never made sense with his discussions. 

Everything about you was just so… perfect. 

You were kind-hearted, considerate, and intelligent. Your humor was unmatched and you were very enthusiastic when you conversed with Jungkook. From a small crush, his liking towards you grew into something he couldn’t exactly ignore. He liked you more than he liked to listen to the duet in his head.  

Okay… scratch that. Maybe he did like his significant other’s singing voice. It eased his worries after a troublesome day. Admittedly, he had found comfort in it.

If only the universe allowed him to converse with whoever was on the other side, then maybe he didn’t have to loathe this system so much. He could’ve gotten a friend out of it, not a soulmate… but a friend. 

Somehow, his thoughts wandered back to you. God, imagine if you were his soulmate. Jungkook would be more than happy if that happened. But he didn’t need the universe to act on his feelings for you. Jungkook will do something… He knew he had to do something about it. He just didn’t know when. 

All of his thinking made Jungkook revert to airplane mode, so it was only then that he noticed you concernedly waving your hand in front of his face for a sign of consciousness. He found your scrunched up face painstakingly cute but holy shit… why are you so close? Please don’t be so close. Jungkook would malfunction if you decreased the space between you two even more. 

“Are you okay, kook?” You luckily stepped back once he locked eyes with you. 

 Ah… that sweet voice of yours that could rival the comforting honey-like singing in his head.

“Y-yeah! Sorry, was spacing out,” Jungkook’s words were jumbled as he noticed he was staring at you like a gaping goldfish instead of answering like a normal person. 

Your giggles rang throughout the room at his predicament. He crookedly grinned then laughed along. This must be heaven. Your happiness was always contagious and he’d often mirror the smile on your face whenever you were happy. 

You made him feel giddy as much as he did on the days he finished his artworks. You made him complete. 

But that damn soulmate thing had to ruin it. 

How he wished you were his soulmate. 

“I thought something happened to you, kook! Mr. Kang dismissed us some time ago but you were still frozen in your seat when everyone left. I was so… worried,” You chuckled, though quite red and hesitant at the end. 

Well did that instigate the butterflies in Jungkook’s tummy. 

“Concerned for me?” Jungkook teased, it was his go-to response because he couldn’t exactly flirt in straight sentences. 

Your eyebrows furrowed but the pink hue became much more evident. Jungkook didn’t even mind the kick you gave him because he made you feel a bit flustered. Success :D

“Taehyungie’s been busy, hasn’t he?” You said, trying to change the subject so everyone could forget the embarrassment.

Taehyung, the theater kid and drama major, was friends with the both of you. He had been busy for the past month because their project was to create a series of plays to showcase to the school. Their show will be on Tuesday, days away from now. 

Right! He could invite you to the play.

“He is… Hey,” You tilted your head and hummed when Jungkook’s voice sounded a bit unsure. 

“Do you wanna go with me to the play?”

The red on your face and the shy nod you did made him swell in accomplishment. He can’t wait for Tuesday to come. 

Fuck.  He should’ve waited for Tuesday to come. Now it is Tuesday and he was too nervous to even stand in a five-meter radius near you. Slapping himself to forget the momentary faltering of his confidence, he shakily waited at the foot of your doorstep with an album in his hand. 

You two bonded on music and he knew you well enough to know you’d rather have the CD of your favorite artist than some flower that would wilt after awhile. He was right. The beam on your face when he handed over the gift made him so happy that all his nerves were washed away. You always had a way to ease him, even if you weren’t aware. 

“M’lady,” He jokingly tried to replicate a british accent as he offered his arm, waiting for you. And as you always would, you took his arm along with an accent-laced, “M’lord,”

Jungkook forgot his worries for a moment and it was always because of you. 

You two sat near the stage to support Taehyung with his play. You two remembered him sharing that their play was about a soulmate-driven world with much more darker consequences. It was about the fictional hanahaki disease, he said. 

And boy did it feel so sad. Taehyung acted so well, as if he was really losing his character’s best friend onstage. Jungkook peered at you for a moment and saw your eyes glisten as Taehyung’s cries grew louder and louder. 

The story was really heartbreaking.

To the point where Jungkook felt the familiar pang on his chest and the song began to play in his head. 

How peculiar. His soulmate was sad just as Taehyung’s scene played out. Perhaps they were in the same auditorium as well. But that was impossible. His soulmate was probably watching some soap opera. 

Not that he minded. Jungkook had other things to think about, especially how to comfort you as your tears flowed down from the actors’ amazing performance. As slick as he could, he draped an arm around you and let you rest your head on his shoulder. His heart was beating faster than he could comprehend. Even more so, when you scooted closer to him.

Fuck. You were cuddling. Oh my god. Jungkook is gonna die out of happiness. 

He had to play it cool though. Jungkook ignored the warmth in his chest and face as he rubbed your arm in consolation. He was surprised you reacted well. Nothing prepared him for what happened next. 

You were humming. 

You were humming his song. 

hOLY SHIT. HOLY SHIT YOU WERE HUMMING HIS SONG. 

You… were his soulmate.

Okay universe… Unfuck you, Jungkook guessed. Apparently the universe was on his side after all… All he had to do was somehow tell you…

Jungkook, his face now an uncontrollable red, nervously turned towards you and successfully got  your undivided attention. God, he could die then and there. Gathering courage from glob knows where, he smiled and sang the first line of the song. 

Universe might have been laughing at him for suddenly changing his views. Jungkook would’ve laughed at himself if he found out the double-back on his opinion. But this was you. 

You and your cute nose scrunch, you and your adorable head tilt, you and your witty comebacks.

This was you.

Everything about you was perfect, and he couldn’t believe that the universe liked him enough to grace him with you as his soulmate. 

何故 こんなにも 涙が溢れるの

[Naze, konna ni mo namida ga afureru no]

Your eyes widened as he sang the song that felt like home to the both of you. 

ねぇ 側にいて そして笑ってよ

[Nee, soba ni ite soshite waratte yo]

You joined in on the singing and everything just made sense. None of the leaving people in the auditorium mattered at the moment. 

君のいない未来は 色のない世界

[Kimi no inai mirai wa iro no nai sekai]

Jungkook was so happy. It seemed like the world was brighter than before.

モノクロで冷たい

[Monokuro de tsumetai]

He shouldn’t have doubted the universe’s plan. Everything was better with you. 

見つ���てる 暗闇さえも so beautiful

[Mitsumeteru kurayami sae mo so beautiful]

You smiled shyly as your soft honey-like voice harmonized with him. 

僕を信じてほしい

[Boku wo shinjite hoshii]

Jungkook’s smile grew wider, encasing your delicate hand in his.

まっすぐに君だけを見て

[Massugu ni kimi dake wo mite]

For once in his life, he was happy and it was better because he was happy with you.

どこにも行かないように

[Doko ni mo ikanai you ni]

You two shared a kiss that afternoon, on a Tuesday, at the university’s auditorium.

permanent taglist: @luvinseokjinnie @97faerie @amoreguk @bbyjoonies @borednia @tanumiki @taescake

[Extra]

Jungkook: Hey Taehyung! Congrats, that play was amazing

Taehyung: ...yeah… but why did you two make out when I died onstage?

You: ahahaha bye.

[ineloqueent]

time enough

Gwilym Lee x Reader

synopsis: you’re stressed and Gwil’s busy, but he’s always got time for you.

warnings: descriptions of anxiety, mentions and description of a panic attack

word count: 1.5k

see the moodboard here!

⭒

It had been a rough morning.

Scratch that.

A rough day. A rough week? Month? Year?

Whatever it was, it wasn’t going well.

You were studying ceaselessly, because attempting to get a doctorate in history was not what one would call “a walk in the park.” In fact, it was quite the opposite. You felt as though you were running down a steep, steep slope, at the end of which lay a cold, dark lake, which you would have no choice but to swim across in order to climb the mountain on the other side, atop which the Ph.D. was being held captive by a dragon, like some fairytale princess.

Indeed, your Ph.D. seemed like a fairytale, because how you were ever going to finish earning it was beyond you. You’d been at this for years and years already, and it seemed as though there was no end in sight. However much you loved history and that which you were studying in particular, the process of getting such an advanced degree was an arduous one, and some days, you thought you’d never make it.

For instance, today, one week before the final exam of your entire university career, the sky was falling down upon you.

It was Friday, and you’d been studying for this exam since four Fridays ago, and you were going around in circles. It seemed impossible to memorise all of those people, and all of those dates, all of those fucking movements, though you were sure they’d been in your head before.

You needed to get out of your apartment. You’d opened the window, but the air had remained stuffy, and the sun which beat down heavily was of no help. You were tired, running on a combination of caffeine and nervous energy, your hands growing shakier by the minute.

The pen fell from your grip as you stood up, knocking your chair to the ground in your hurry.

Out, out, out, get out. The room was too small, the walls were up against you, and you were finding it difficult to breathe.

You threw on your shoes and fumbled for your house key, stumbling out the door and only just remembering to close it behind you, let alone lock it.

You needed to get this off of your mind, this endless loop of studying and writing papers and reading papers, and there was only one person capable of helping you.

You knew where the shoot was, and it wouldn’t take you long to get there by car, but you wanted— needed—  fresh air, and didn’t trust yourself to drive with your quivering hands, so you began to run.

You nearly got into a road accident numerous times, and angry shouts followed you everywhere you went, but you could only hear the wind rushing in your ears and the hard concrete beneath your shoes.

You ran all the way to set, and when you got there, you faced the inevitable obstacle of a barricade and the security guard reluctant to let you in. But then you spotted Gwilym.

For a moment, you held your breath, your knuckles turning white as they gripped the barricade.

You didn’t want to trouble him. And he was very obviously busy, going over the delivery of a particular line with his co-star, prior to the shoot which awaited them on the footpath by the road, where the cameras were stationed.

But then for what reason had you come all this way?

By no small amount of courage, you called out to Gwil.

He spun at the sound of your voice, just as an assistant touched his arm to get his attention concerning the start of the shoot.

Your stomach dropped to your toes. He hadn’t seen you.

There were tears in your eyes now, and you couldn’t stop them, couldn’t even wipe them away for your shaking hands, your shaky breaths.

He hadn’t seen you, and he was going to leave and you were going to stay here behind the barricade, tearful and panicky and embarrassed and ashamed.

There was commotion over by the camera crew, but then one voice, assured, firm, clear, cut through.

“If you’ll excuse me, please, that’s my girlfriend you’ve barred from the premises.”

You were sinking to the ground by the barricade, your chest contracting, your skin cold and clammy, and then Gwil was jumping the barricade and kneeling on the ground beside you.

“Gwil, we need to—”

He raised a hand, and the gesture silenced the assistant. It wasn’t an impolite gesture, simply one which asked respect of the recipient, and for Gwil’s reputation of going out of his way to help others, the assistant nodded and walked away.

You were dimly aware of Gwil’s fingers curling around your own. He didn’t get in your face, but he also didn’t shy away, frightened by the panic which wracked your body.

“Hey, love?”

You turned your head to find him looking at you, all soft eyes and even breaths, and there was a calmness in just looking at him.

“You’re going to be alright. This’ll be over in a little bit, and then we can talk and go anywhere and do anything you like, yes?”

He was being so gentle, so kind, and the ghost of a smile touched his lips when you nodded in response to his askance, so much that you almost nodded again, just to see him smile fully.

But your vision still blurred at the edges— green and purple and black— and you remembered, all of those people, and all of those dates, all of those fucking movements, all of those things you were never going to remember, and you gasped as the intake of air constricted your lungs.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you. Just breathe with me.”

His thumb traced a gentle line at the base of your palm, and then he began to count slowly.

“One, you— the only one who matters right now. Two, how many days it took me to fall in love with you. Three, the number of drinks I had before I mustered the confidence to talk to you. Four, how many times I tried to talk to you on the same night before I gave up. Five, the number of weeks I thought about asking you out before I actually did it.

“Six, the hour I arrived to pick you up that first time. Seven, the time I was actually supposed to pick you up, but I’d forgotten about daylight savings. Eight, the number of constellations I memorised to try and impress you on that first date. Nine, the number of constellations I forgot how to identify, but you looked so happy staring up at the stars, so I pretended I knew them.

“And, because I can’t count, ten million billion trillion, how many times I will tell you I love you, if it makes you even half as happy as the first time I told you.”

That soft smile had reappeared on his face, and the colours were returning to the world.

You noticed that Gwil had sat down beside you, not minding his costume, or the fact that the ground would dirty it beyond all repair.

“I’m so proud of you, you know that? This Ph.D. thing… I could never do it. But you…” Gwil exhaled, shaking his head almost imperceptibly, as though he truly could not believe how you managed. There was a great, unspoken respect in his words, and his confidence in you was far lovelier than anything else you had ever been given. “You work yourself too hard, beautiful. Breaks are good. We all need breaks.”

With a tenderness, he smoothed the hair from your forehead, and your breathing began to return to normal.

“Do you…” your voice hitched on the words, and Gwil was passing you a bottle of water he’d conjured from god knew where. You sipped a little, then handed it back to him.

“Slowly,” he said. “Take it easy.”

“Don’t you need a break from me, sometimes?”

His brow furrowed, but you kept talking.

“I mean, I turn up out of nowhere, and I— I— I ruin your day, the shoot, the—”

“Shh, love,” he touched your hand. “Breathe in and out. Slowly.” He then shook his head again. “You could turn up out of nowhere any day of the week, and I’d be over the moon to see you. And you haven’t ruined my day or the shoot or anything. I’m only sorry I wasn’t at home with you today.”

“But you’re busy and I—”

“I’ve got time enough, and all the time in the world for you.” He canted his head slightly, looking at you. “I think I should tell you, you are my world, and taking a break from the world would mean giving up on life, and while you’re here, there is no thought further from my mind.”

There were tears in your eyes again. But these were not tears of panic, of fear. Your heart swelled with happiness, with hope.

He kissed your hair. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, and held onto him until the light faded from the sky.

[anthonyed]

Hi! If you’re still doing prompts, can you do 49. “Who hurt you?” Or 53. “Who cares about what they think?” + stevebucky?

Anon, I wanted to do both, but I only managed one this time :/ Maybe the second one would be a fluffier Part 2 to this piece in the future. If that happens, I'd rb this with the link (From this list: “Who hurt you?”)

-//-

There’s a boy in his class he’d never seen before. 

Stick-like with dishwater hair and a beak for a nose. He walks around like he’s got the entire world on his bony shoulders; head down, eyes on the floor and he makes sure he’s one with the wall all the time.

Bucky knows it’s not his business, but he knows what a fist to the face tastes like on the tongue, so he makes it his, anyway.

Two weeks into the term, he catches the boy out of the school gate and asks, “Are you new here?”

The boy startles and looks up and - My god! Bucky thinks. 

He’s got the prettiest pair of blue for his eyes and if Bucky had been thirteen, crushing on a boy for the first time, he would have freaked out. 

As it is, he’s 17 and been out for a year now. So he shakes the awe out of his fluttering lashes and puts on his best smile. “Hello, I’m Bucky Barnes,” he says. Hands held out for an offer to shake.

But the boy looks at him then his hand and he looks up again and he mutters, “Keep away from me.”

Bucky has faced rejection a billion times, he’s not a stranger to being shunned because of his sexual preference, but hell. This wasn’t even a come on. He was just introducing himself. And the response he got to that just pisses him off - beautiful boy or not.

“Shit dude, who hurt you,” he scowls. “Here I am offering friendship cause you look like you could use one and - you know what. Fuck you, man. You wanna be alone? Hell if I care.” 

Should have stayed in his lane. Should not have made this boy his business. Should have known he was just like the rest of them jerks.

Except he looks like he’d sucked on a sour candy upon hearing Bucky’s words and he stutters out a soft sorry. “I thought you - you were gonna jump me.”

“Well, I wasn’t, all right,” Bucky sighs, raking his fingers through his hair and it’s kind of awkward. 

But he walks home that day with the boy’s name fresh on his lips and his hand still warm from a shake.

-

Steve Rogers is turning 18 in three months against all odds. Ma seems to tear up more and more leading his birthday and he cannot blame her for that. She’s emotional, and if he wasn’t so hopeless himself, perhaps he’d feel the same.

Living with Cystic Fibrosis sent him to deathbed more than once. He’d greeted the reaper, kissed its hand but every time they thought this was it; he was pulled back to earth once again.

He doesn’t hate life, he just thinks he’s been fated to death since the day he was born.

So he keeps to himself; doesn’t make any connections he cannot afford to sever and kisses Sarah Rogers goodnight before bed like it’s their last goodbye.

But he’s turning 18 in three months and maybe that gives him some hope because he accidentally lets a boy in too deep into his heart.

-

When Bucky first finds out about Steve’s… condition, it’s been three weeks into their friendship, and they’re in a coffee shop sharing a bagel sandwich after their last class for the day.

He’d said something funny and Steve had broken into peals of laughter, grabbing his chest and wheezing from uncontainable joy and for a moment, it was the most beautiful thing Bucky had ever seen. 

And then it was the worst.

He saw Steve collapse right in front of him and ten other people; saw someone call for an ambulance, one of the staff yelled at Bucky about something but he couldn’t hear it. Couldn’t compute anything at all.

He froze where he stood; watching Steve die before him.

The paramedics arrived, someone pointed at him, one of the paramedics asked him if he was a friend; he said, yes.

She asked, “Can you tell me what happened?” 

He stuttered, “No. I - He. He’s my friend. But I don’t know what just happened to him. Is he - Is he going to be okay?”

She’d looked at him, first disappointed then sad. She said, “Your friend’s going to be okay. If you want, you can ride along with us.” 

She probably thought Bucky was a bad friend, but she never said that. She showed him the band around Steve’s wrist - which he’d never seen Steve took off, much less asked what it meant; just assumed it was important and left it at that - and told him what it means.

She flipped Steve’s wallet open, pulled out a card and gave it Bucky. “You’re lucky we know him,” she said. 

“Stevie’s a good boy. But he’s very shy, and he’s always kept to himself so, it’s very nice to know he’s been going around making friends.”

Two hours later, he’s still sitting in the waiting room with his hands clasped in front of him, watching two ants carry a bread crumb across the tile between his feet. 

Someone sits next to him; a nurse under her unzipped hoodie she’s got on and when he looks up, she smiles at him.

“I heard you’re Steve’s friend.”

Bucky’s been so tensed for a long time that he chokes on his spit when he opens his mouth. She waits patiently for his cough to subside. Once he can, Bucky rubs his hands over his pants and says, “Sorry. Yeah. I - I’m his friend.” Then he panics, “They said he’s all right and told me to wait here. Is he - Is everything -,”

“Have you had anything to eat yet?” She interrupts him, “Or drink maybe?”

He looks at her then; really looks at her, and he shakes his head. Something about her is too familiar so when she says, “Come,” he went with her.

She brings him to the canteen and buys him a sandwich and bottled water. “Eat,” she says. “If you’re gonna stick around, then you’ll need the energy.”

And that’s how Bucky met Sarah Rogers.

-

Steve is tired most of the time, but when he isn’t, he’s the brightest ball of sunshine. 

His joy made Bucky bloom like Cherry Blossom in Spring. Every single smile and laughter; if Bucky could collect them all in a cup and drink, he would. But even then, he doesn’t think he’d get enough of it.

He loves him.

First as a friend, then as a boy who’d like to possess Steve; keep him to himself; all that smile and happiness, just for Bucky and only Bucky and he would never let anyone take his Stevie from him.

But then, something happens.

He gets invited to Steve’s little birthday party, and he claps as Steve blows out the candles. Hoots the loudest, laughs with Steve’s mom and then at one point, he’s sitting by her side pulling tissues for her to wipe her tears.

The room down the hallway got its door locked with Steve inside it. 

“Sorry,” Mrs Rogers sniffles. It’s the fifth time she’d said it and Bucky has had enough. 

“Seriously,” he tells her. “Stop worrying about it, Mrs Rogers.”

She laughs while a tear runs down her cheek at the same time. “Oh, God,” she sobs. “You shouldn’t be seeing this - Nobody, should be seeing this.”

Bucky keeps his mouth shut and hands over another ply. 

Later that night, lying in his bed in the dark, Bucky thinks about what had happened. About Mrs Rogers kiss to Steve’s forehead, and her harmless words; “You’re growing into a handsome man, darling. Someday, somewhere, you’re gonna break someone’s heart.”

She wasn’t wrong. Hell, Bucky sat there thinking: he’s already breaking mine, Mrs Roger.

But that wasn’t what Steve thought. Whatever he did, it made him very angry. “Stop putting your hopes in me,” he snapped.

His poor ma, stunned, asked, “What?”

“Your hopes, ma,” Steve hissed. “You know none of that would happen. I won’t make it out of school -,”

And right then was when Bucky saw a mother break her own heart. 

Her hand came in a flash, connecting sharp against Steve’s face; the loud slap echoed and the second she realised what she had done, Sarah Rogers cupped her mouth with that same hand - shaking -, her eyes wide in horror and her heart -

Hours later, Bucky could still hear it shatter into a million pieces. He realises too, they never did cut the cake tonight.

-

The next day, he doesn’t see Steve in school. He calls his phone, and calls Mrs Rogers when he doesn’t pick up. Her line goes dead too. 

She texts later. Saying Steve’s in the hospital again. 

Is he going to be okay? - Bucky writes her.

Ten minutes later, his phone flashes with; I don’t know.

-

He’s not okay. 

They’ve got tubes stuffed down his windpipe, bags of fluids going into his veins and he’s looking bloated in the face.

The doctors keep hushing to Mrs Rogers. They tell her things Bucky doesn't understand; big words, complicated medical stuff and Bucky’s not so smart in the brain. He gets by with B in science at the very best. So he fills the chair by Stevie’s side and holds his hand instead.

When Bucky’s ma was around, she used to take him and his sister to Sunday church. She bought for them a bible each and knitted covers out of wool; one blue, one pink for Bucky and his sister, respectively.

After she passed, Bucky gave up faith and his belief. He’s stopped praying at all.

But right now, with the sound of Stevie’s heart echoing in beeps around them, he holds his hand and whispers what he remembers.

-

“He needs a new set of lungs,” Mrs Rogers says. 

Seeing her in the hospital without her uniform on is very jarring. Bucky stares at her fingers curled around a paper cup holding coffee like they held all the answers. 

They told themselves that the chairs in Steve’s room got too hard for their spine, so they’re  in the canteen for better cushioning. 

Truth is, they couldn’t take the silence in there anymore. So they’re out here drowning their sorrow in the most crowded place in the hospital.

“You know, I’m very glad that he met you.” 

Bucky looks up from her hand and meets her watery smile. She sniffles, “He knew he didn’t have a long time. So he walked alone. Never made any friends. I have the suspicion that he hates saying goodbye.”

Bucky’s throat aches so he swallows it down. Sarah Rogers lays her hand over Bucky’s and squeezes. 

“Thank you,” she tells him. “For choosing my son.”

He knows then that she sees right through him. 

“I love him,” he tells her truthfully; his heart too swollen with Steve to hide no longer. 

She gives him another watery smile and pats his hand two short times, “I know.”

Bucky swallows the lump in his throat and says, “I never told him that.”

-

If; Bucky thinks.

If he could go back in time, he’d like to go back to the first day he met Steve and ask, “Would you go out on a date with me,” instead of offering friendship. 

Or the first time he walked Steve out of the discharge suit so he could catch his frail hand, then his blue eyes and say, “Be my boyfriend Steve Rogers.”

Maybe a week before Steve’s birthday, when they were sitting in the park, with the late summer breeze caressing their skin and Steve had held his lips pressed the entire time.

They’d only known each other for two-and-a-half months then, but Bucky felt like he’d known Steve his entire lifetime. And he could tell that Steve was upset that evening.

He’d gotten off the phone with his mum that afternoon and back then Bucky didn’t know, but now, he could guess it was probably Mrs Rogers mentioning throwing him a birthday party. 

If Bucky could go back to that evening, he wouldn’t just stop at making jokes for Steve to laugh at. He would take his hand in his and press his mouth to Steve’s cheek. He’d like to tell him, “You’re beautiful” and that, “You take my breath away, Stevie.”

He’d like to tell him in detail just how deeply he was in love with Steve. With the sound of birds chirping overhead and water lapping in the lake, he would like to have kissed the sorrow out of Steve’s lips. 

But time travel is a fairy dream, and as it is for Bucky; he’s just another boy who’d missed his chance.

So he takes what he could get; he hoards minutes he could get with Stevie and treasures them dearly. Especially those without Sarah Rogers hovering by.

He tells him what he thinks; the weather, the new pair of shoes his nurse is wearing today, the little boy with a broken nose that reminded him of Steve and a helluva lot of ‘I wish’-es. 

He tells him: “You taught me how to love selflessly.” Tells him: “I would have given anything to have you beside me, but now I just want you to stop hurting.”

[221bshrlocked]

Here Right Now

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Words: 2884

Warnings: my power couple - angst and smut

A/N: This came out of nowhere. I wrote some of it late last night and the rest of it today. I needed to practice needy Bruce because guess what Wanted Man will address eventually. Also, I haven’t written smut in a while and I just wanted to see if I could still do it or not so your comments will be much appreciated. This is a bit tame for my usual smut because I think I suck writing that now. I wrote this on my phone and I didn’t proofreed it because I have to get back to my homework so I apologize for any mistakes. Enjoy :)

He always commanded any room he was in. Even if it wasn't his party, somehow his presence was felt, sometimes in a good way and other times in a bad way. Well, to most individuals it was unpleasant. He had this aura about him, one that gave off nothing but narcissism, pride, and superficial playboy assholness. 

But you've watched him closely in so many of these events and you could tell that it was just an act. His smile never really reached far back enough to be considered genuine. And all those women he paraded around never got his attention. But they did get everyone else's which was probably the point. 

You walked away from your employer to get a glass of wine, finally feeling relaxed for the first time that night. It wasn't that you weren't thankful for the life you had, far from it. But you just couldn't stand these rich people who thought they owned you and your services. As soon as you turned around, you walked into a solid body, apologizing when you thought you had spilled your drink.

When an intimidating pair of hazel eyes looked into yours, you knew it was in your best interest to continue apologizing. You didn't want to hear another lecture from your boss again.

"Mr. Wayne, I am truly sorry I hadn't noticed you at all." You swallowed the lump in your throat, waiting for whatever insult he was going to spew at you.

"Now now, there's no need to lie Ms. Y/N." Bruce held your gaze and you hated how much that million, no, billion dollar smile affected you. 

"Sorry?" You didn't know how to respond. Not only were you trying to read in between the lines but you were also surprised he knew your name at all.

"We both know you haven't stopped staring at me the entire night and I can't help but feel like we could amend that." He took the drink out of your hand and placed it on the bar, his eyes shamelessly dragging down your form before returning to your surprised orbs.

Had he not acted like he owned you already, you could have gone home with him. Not everyone can say they had a one night stand with Bruce Wayne. Granted he walked around with models and actresses everywhere but everyone knew he didn't take any of them home.

Fixing your clutch around your shoulder, you stepped away from him and cleared your throat. 

"Word of advice Mr. Wayne, stop acting like you own everyone. A little humility goes a long way." You gave him a rather unfriendly smile before walking away. 

Bruce stood still, absolutely enamored by your lack of care for who he is. He watched as you went to your boss and whispered something in his ear before heading towards the exit. 

Putting on your coat, you walked outside and tried to hail a cab when a low roar grabbed your attention. You rolled your eyes at the man driving the luxurious car, trying your hardest to not pay him any more attention than he already had.

"It's cold. You should let me give you a ride."

"I can find as much warmth in a taxi Mr. Wayne. Don't worry about me." You turned away and smiled at the entertained valet standing nearby.

Bruce hated how much sarcasm that last sentence was drenched with but he chose to ignore it.

"Please." He wasn't one to beg, let alone ask twice for something.

 The plea sounded almost genuine and perhaps that was why your own feet betrayed you and got in his car. 

"Thank you," you weren't sure why he was the one thanking you when it should've been you but you nodded and looked away from him. Bruce drove through the streets expertly, not speeding once or attempting to make himself known. 

When he got to your place, he parked the car and nervously played with the steering wheel.

"If you're waiting for me to invite you upstairs, I won't. But thank you for the ride Mr. Wayne, it was entertaining to say the least." You unbuckled your seatbelt and moved to exit the car when you heard shuffling next to you. 

"I am sorry, I- what I said back there...it was uncalled for." Bruce looked at you with a thousand emotions swimming in his eyes and you couldn't help but grasp onto the one that powered over all the others.

"I know you are. Whatever it is you're doing, it has everyone fooled. This...all of this...it isn't you. And I hope you find someone that could make you feel like yourself again. Without the masks and charades. This-" You softly touched his chest and firmly pressed on his heart, wanting him to listen closely to what you were about to say, "here, right now, this is who you are." You didn't have a chance to react, your entire body jerking forward when you felt Bruce violently pull on your wrist, his other hand grabbing your neck to bring you closer to him and before you knew it, his lips were on you like dew on leaves in the early morning hours.

A part of you knew you should push him away or even slap him and walk out. But his lips were soft, so much softer than you imagined. And my god did you imagine.

His tongue pushed through into your mouth and devoured your own, his hands never wandering anywhere inappropriate. Bruce almost moved away from you when he didn't feel you moving against him. But then returned his affection with twice as much ferocity, fingers combing through his long hair and pulling on it when he became more desperate with feeling you move with him.

You felt his pulse beating against the hand holding on his neck and you brushed the thought aside. There was no way someone like you made this man's heart race through the roof.

A few minutes later, Bruce finally managed to pull away but he kept his arms around you, afraid you'd walk away from him again. When you began to move, he knew he had no right to keep you in the car so he returned to his seat again. Combining through his hair, he waited for you to exit the car, his eyebrows furrowing when you remained still in your seat.

A loud buckling of a seat belt snapped him out of his haze and when he turned towards you, he saw you fixing the strap of yours dress, never once looking away from him. 

"Well, are we going to make out all night long or are you going to take me home?" You calmly asked, returning the smile he had plastered on his face.

And you hated how attentive you were to those little expressions.

He was genuinely smiling at you. 

The engine came back to life and you expected him to zoom through the streets, but he didn't. In fact, he was much more at ease now, his hand nestled on your thighs and holding on your shaking fingers. 

When he made it to his manor, he exited the car and ran around to open the door for you, smiling when you took the palm of his hand and squeezed it. He could tell you were nervous but he said nothing, offering you his arm to walk you to the door. 

A few minutes later, Bruce was apologizing for the long walk to his room and you laughed at the gesture because you knew his intentions weren't ones of pride. No, he was actually sorry you had to go up so many stairs to get to his room.

And when you finally made it, he shut the door behind him and walked to the window drawing back the curtains to light the room with the night sky.

Bruce turned around and was about to tell you that you had no obligation to do anything with him when he found your dress in a pile on the floor. Looking up, his Adam's apple nervously bobbed up and down at seeing you in nothing but a pair of black panties and heels.

Just like earlier, Bruce didn't move a muscle, afraid this was all a dream and that you weren't half naked in his room right now.

You could tell he was thinking of a million things so you made the first move, approaching him slowly before pushing his suit jacket off his shoulders. When you saw that he was still willing, you pulled on his tie and threw it away from him, unbuttoning the first few buttons before pushing the shirt away to reveal his chest. Bruce watched your every move, entranced by how gentle you were being with him. When you undid his cuff buttons as well and pulled the shirt out of his pants to get rid of it, Bruce found it had to breathe. 

But as soon as he felt your hands on his belt, he quickly reached to stop you. 

"I- this isn't...I am not trying to- oh god Y/N. You don't have to do anything." Your heart broke at his stammering. He really was trying to stay in control, more for your sake than his. And for the first time, you managed to get a peek inside the true Bruce. This man was trying to make you see him and so far, he was succeeding. He just didn't know it.

"Bruce..."

The sound of his name on your lips was probably what broke the spell. Somehow more aggressively than before, he wrapped his arms around you and carried you to his bed, leaving kisses anywhere he could reach before depositing you on his bed. 

You noticed that he liked to be as close to you as possible. Maybe he was touch starved. No scratch that, he was definitely touch starved. The man lost his parents at such a young age and only lived with his butler. He really was in some desperate need for proper and healthy attention.

You moaned and gasped as he worshipped your skin, half yelling his name when he pinched and licked your hard nipples. Between the assault on your breasts and feeling how hard he was, you were done for. 

"Bruce please...off, take this off. Need you," you never sounded this desperate for anyone or anything but you knew he needed to hear this. Damn him to hell for what he was going to have you feeling the next morning but a part of you loved the fact that you were able to help him. 

Bruce quickly obliged, grudgingly standing up to take his pants off before nestling between your thighs again. You pushed yourself against him, wanting to feel as much of his strangely scarred and bruised body as possible.

"Wai- oh fuck, Y/N please wait. I- I don't have a condom."

"I'm on the pill, just-" You were frantic, trying to take your panties off but whining when he didn't give you a chance.

"No no I can't take advantage of you, not you. We could-"

"If you don't fuck me right now I will actually be so goddamn angry at you." You had nothing else to threaten him with. And yet the look he had on his face when you said that managed to make you believe, even for a second, that he couldn't stand the thought of you being angry with him. 

"Y/N," he moaned your name before leaning down and taking your lips again. You sighed when you felt him palming the wet spot on your panties before pushing them aside and smearing your juices everywhere. Whatever clarity you had left was gone out the window as soon as you felt his fingers move inside you.  He was slow at first, expertly rubbing every spot that had you seeing stars. But then his hands got a little rough and before you knew it, he was fucking you with his fingers will whispering the filthiest things in your ears.

You held onto his shoulders, panting against him and not caring that you were probably bruising his beautiful skin. Within minutes, you were shaking in his arms, begging him to slow down or stop because you couldn't take the pleasure anymore.

As you came down from your little blissful high, you could feel something else nudge against your entrance. But he was still hesitating.

"Please...Bruce please I need you. Want to feel you inside me. Pl-please," you weren't surprised when he couldn't hold back and thrust in all at once. He was bigger than you thought, so much warmer and thicker than any other man you slept with. 

"Oh god Bruce...fuck, Bruce, you're so big. G-give me a second." You whispered against his jaw, trying to focus on opening up for him so he could move. You really needed him to move.

Bruce was panting above you, trying to stay in control to not hurt you. But you felt so fucking good.

"Shit... you're so tight around me Y/N. So goddamn warm and tight and perfect. I could stay here forever." He kept kissing your neck and cheeks, wanting you to feel safe in his arms.

The sensation was new to him. But he didn't want to think this way or feel this way ever again. Not after-

And the words he said made you feel so special. But you didn't want to dwell too much on that last bit. He was way out of your league.

"Move. Oh my god, you feel so fucking good inside me Bruce...you can move." You struggled to say to him but it was all worth it.

Bruce gently pulled almost all the way out before snapping his hips back into you again. He couldn't hold back even if he tried, not with the way you were moaning his name and sighing whenever his hard chest brushed against your achingly sensitive nipples. He went from hard thrusts to soft gyrating of his hips, knowing when he should get a little rougher or slower. You held onto him like your life depended on it, occasionally kissing his Adam's apple or licking the vein protruding from his neck. He never realized it but he apparently liked it a lot when you gave his neck attention.

"Y/N...'m so close. Please baby come with me. Want to feel you come on my cock. Feel so good wrapped around me...please come with me. Ah fuck...fuck oh god I'm- I'm coming," Bruce dropped his head into the crook of your neck, unable to hold himself back as he bit your shoulder and growled his release with a few hard thrusts. His body shuddered when he felt you clenching around him, milking him dry as you felt hot spurts fill you up and begin to roll down your thighs. 

You were both breathing heavily and you didn't know what came over you but you rubbed his back to comfort him when his body continued to shake above you. He tried to move but you didn't let him, feeling safe with his weight on top of you and knowing this was helping him as well. 

Bruce finally managed to fall to the side, immediately pulling you into his arms and wrapping both of them around you protectively as you nuzzled into his neck.

Neither of you said anything, drowning in each others' scent and warmth as you went into a deep sleep.

Hours later, Bruce woke up from the light seeping through his window and he growled before remembering the events of the night. He sat up immediately and looked around the room, not finding any trace of you or your clothes. He quickly got up and got dressed, thinking you were eating breakfast or something.

But when he saw Alfred, he knew that you were gone.

"Good morning Master Wayne, young Ms. Y/N apologized for leaving so early and asked me to tell you that she left something for you on the nightstand." Bruce was running back to his room before Alfred finished his sentence, bursting through the doors to reach his nightstand.

His heart sank when he saw what was on there.

But he was so careful.

Slowly, he approached his bed and sat on it, grabbing the letter from under the batarang. 

Dear Bruce,

You're probably dreading reading this letter but please don't worry. Your secret is safe with me. And I will never try to use it against you in any way. I just didn't feel right not telling you that I found it on your bathroom floor. I cleaned the blood off of it so you wouldn't have to. Just try to be careful with who you bring home next time please.

Thank you for the best night of my life. 

Warm wishes, Y/N

P.S. Please take care of yourself. 

Bruce didn't know what he was feeling.

All he did know was that he would try everything in his power to convince you that he doesn't want anyone else. He only wanted you and he would make sure to make you see past all of his masks. He couldn't afford to lose someone else.

[iamtaekooked]

↳PART 2 | PART 1

➾ AU: Enemies to Lovers! + football player!Jeongguk and Journalist!Reader

➾Pairing: Jeongguk x female reader

➾Genre: Fluff, some angst, some soft smut 

➾Rating: 18+

➾Word count Part 2: 17.0k (bringing out combined total to a whopping 34.3k)

➾Warnings {part 2}: drinking, soft smut (making out, nothing detailed or explicit), swearing.

↳Summary:

Jeon Jeongguk is your nemesis whom you carry a strong dislike for. A dislike that borders on hate. He’s cocky, arrogant, narcissistic and loves to think everything revolves around him. When he gets elected as the captain of the football team, you are forced to write a profile on him for the college magazine as is the tradition every time a new captain is selected. But as you follow him around, you come to realize he might not be as bad as you think. Maybe he’s even a little tolerable– and cute. How will you deal with several realizations that dawn on you during the course of your interviews?

A special thank you to @kuzimuzibts @meandyou0901 @ughkive for supporting me through this fic. Without your support and words of encouragement, I couldn’t have done this ❤️ So thank you from the bottom of my heart and I love you guys!

M.List

Jimin being the good friend he is, decided to host a small get together at his house. Of course, you are invited and so are 15 other people. Jimin has always been a caring soul, someone who can’t see the people he loves in distress. So when he gets wind that Jeongguk is stressed out he decides to invite everyone Jeongguk is friends with to throw a surprise “party”.

The responsibility of bringing Jeongguk over to his house falls to you because you are apparently his “girlfriend”. Or at least that is how everyone starts referring to you once the picture of you and Jeongguk outside the bus stop with his arms wrapped around your waist circulates on social media. You are sure it was one of the girls who squealed when they saw him walking by.

At first you try your hardest to diffuse the rumors because you are not his girlfriend, but when the whole world around you seems to be pressing it on you, insisting that you are-- you give up and let them have it. It’s not hurting you in any way so who cares?

But Jeongguk on the other hand loves it. He loves it more than football itself, which is a miracle. Everytime someone calls you his girlfriend in front of him, a wide grin appears on his face— the one where his eyes disappear into moon shaped crescents and his pearly whites are on full display— it also happens to be the one that always brings a smile to your face too. If it were up to him he would change your name to ‘girlfriend’, that way he would get to call you that all the time.

So naturally when you go to find him in the gym, all his teammates offer you polite smiles, and nods. Even Jaehyun offers a soft ‘hi’ in greeting.

“Captain!” one of them yells. “Your girlfriend is here” his voice echoes through the almost empty place.

You open your mouth to tell him to stop calling you that but it wouldn’t accomplish anything. They won’t stop.Up until now, no matter how many times you have corrected people, they have just ignored you and continued to refer to you as “Jeongguk’s girlfriend”.

“Cap!” Jaehyun yells this time craning his neck to where Jeongguk is in a corner of the gym lifting weights. “Your girl is here!”

Jeongguk upon hearing that stops bench pressing and jogs over to you with a sweaty figure and heavy breaths.As soon as his eyes find you his lips curve into a smile. “Hey girlfriend” he greets you and lays a soft kiss on your cheeks before wrapping his arms around you.

“I told you not to call me that” you mumble against his shoulder softly— very gently pulling yourself away from his embrace. Somehow you’ve gotten close enough to allow him to hug you and to allow yourself to not go into a state of utter panic. Ever since he told you he likes you there has been a slight shift in your dynamic-- he’s more touchy and you don’t mind it. Sometimes you even let yourself enjoy it because the feeling of his arms around you makes you feel secure-- like there is nothing in the world that could touch you when he’s with you.

Jeon Jeongguk is the kind of man who just by his mere presence has the ability to make someone next to him look-- but most importantly feel like a billion bucks. That is exactly how you feel when he’s with you because like a magnet he ends up drawing all attention on himself and by default on you.

Sometimes you catch yourself smiling when you’re with him and people are pointing at you both and whispering their envy to each other. It makes you feel a surge of emotions which you can’t define but at the bottom of it all it just feels good.

“What else would I call you?” he pouts.

“Oh, I don’t know? My name maybe? The one I’ve had since birth?” you shake your head. “Anyway, I just came because we need some stuff for the interview. I have a few questions”

He quirks an eyebrow and rubs his hands together. “Oooh. But ‘girlfriend’ sounds a million times better. I am just going to call you that”

You rub your forehead in exasperation. “Should we go somewhere more… suitable. I need to ask you a few questions” you ask straight-faced.

He nods. You notice all his teammates sharing a look and roll your eyes because you know what they are thinking-- sex. That’s all they can ever think of. You ignore them as they pat Jeongguk on the shoulder, or give him words of encouragement like “get it” or high five him. You exit the gym first, not in the mood for their stupidity.

Jeongguk catches up to you and falls into step next to you. “Why do you always leave me behind?”

“Because I don’t like your teammates” you deadpan.

“But you like me?” he asks with a hopeful tone before busting out that stupid smile of his.

“Jeongguk” you say warningly.

“Ok sorry. I’ll wait until you’re ready to tell me how much you love me” he winks with a cheeky grin.

“Oh my god” you facepalm.

You hear him snicker and shoot him a dirty look. “Anyway” you try to direct the conversation to serious matters as you take out your recorder one more time as per usual.

“So, you’re back to working on my profile?”

“Unfortunately for me, yes” you say with a small chuckle. “I am not going to let my best friend get dragged into shit by the sports department because of you Jeon”

“Ouch!” he feigns hurt by placing a hand on his chest. “I thought you cared for me” he matches your pace despite being several inches taller than you— which is kind of sweet. But that’s not the point.

“Oh I am sorry” you draw out each word to make sure he didn’t miss the sarcasm in your voice. “Did I make it seem like I did?”

“You’re definitely going to die sad and alone” he muses with a teasing smile.

“I don’t mind that. Now if you’re done, can I continue?”

Go ahead” he offers a soft, gentle smile which makes a pang nervousness rise in your chest.

“So, what does football mean to you?”

“Everything” he doesn’t even hesitate for a single second before answering.

“Care to elaborate?”

“I told you how football is literally the only thing that provides my life with meaning-- exception being you” he glances at you with a small teasing smirk before throwing his hands in the air when he notices you opening your mouth. “I digress. But yes. Playing football is the one thing that gives direction and focus to my life. Without it I would be lost”

You nod deep in thought. “So then, what would you do if you didn’t make it into the football team?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I’d probably still be in the Eastside struggling with trying to find something that allowed me to focus my energy in productive ways”

“So would you say that football is the reason you wake up every morning?” you look up at him, noticing the glint in his eye and the tiny smile spread across his lips.

He nods. “And you” he adds quickly before looking away with a playful grin he thinks you can’t see.

You slap him gently on the arm. “Jeongguk!”

“I’ll stop” he holds hands up in surrender as he turns to look at you.

You both continue walking, turning left here, turning right there.

“Describe in word one word then how you feel when you play football”

“Euphoria” again it doesn’t take him even a second to answer. It’s like he’s been waiting for someone to ask him-- that’s how quickly he answered.

You look at him in question at which point he begins to elaborate without you having to prompt him.

“It’s like a rush. Whenever I am out in the field I am zoomed in, super focused. It’s like tunnel vision. All I see is the ball, and that touchdown line at the end of the field. That’s all I think about when I play. All the hits, all the pushing and shoving kind of pumps me up because it feels like these are the obstacles I have to overcome to get that ball to the endline and score the point. It’s like a metaphor for life, if you know what I mean”

You nod slowly as you comprehend his words. “Wow”

He shakes his head with a soft chuckle. “Always with the look of surprise”

“I am trying to adjust” you snap.

“Anything else you want to know?”

“I think this is good for now” you stop the recording and pocket the tiny thing. “Also, be ready by 5 tonight. We’re going somewhere”

“Wow, so specific” the sarcasm in his voice doesn’t go amiss.

“Yeah Yeah” you wave him off. “Just be ready by 5pm” you turn but he clasps a hand around your wrist and spins you around to make you face him.

“No. You be ready by 5. You’re crazy if you think I won’t come to pick you up”

“You don’t have to” you feel slightly guilty because one you know he has to drive a long way out to come to your place and second it’s a surprise for him so you should be the one picking him up.

“I want to” he slightly squeezes your wrist.

You regard him noticing how he looks so determined. “Fine”

“Where are we going? Is it a date?!” his eyes widen with a grin.

“No!” your nose scrunches. “It’s not a date Jeon”

“Oh” his lower lip juts out slightly, voice completely deflated.

You are so not whipped for him— that you can’t even see him pouting without feeling bad for him. For a moment you can’t react because his face loses its brightness. But then a sense of urgency builds. You bite your lip in an effort to stop yourself from speaking. But then the more he sulks, the worse it gets.

“Fine! It’s a date” you sigh and lower your gaze to avoid looking at him. But you are sure he’s beaming.

“Yes!” you hear him.

Then you turn around and run from there because you aren’t sure your heart can take it.

> > > > > >

The evening arrives with a flurry of text messages from Jeongguk.

Jeon Jerkguk- I just left the house. I’ll be there in 40-ish minutes depending on traffic. - 4:30 pm Jeon Jerkguk- You know how to get there right? - 4:31 pm Jeon Jerkguk- Of course you do. You’re the smartest person I know 😊- 4:32 pm Jeon Jerkguk- Dress warmly, it's kind of cold out- 4:34 pm Jeon Jerkguk- Don't forget your jacket please Jeon Jerkguk- See you soon girlfriend 😍

You bang your head against the vanity. “No” you groan.

When he acts like this, it makes you speechless. Your chest feels fluttery, waves of chills pass through your skin, your stomach twists in knots, your breath hitches in your throat and warmth envelopes you. Like a normal person, instead of feeling happy you end up feeling stressed because you don’t know how to deal with it. He makes you nervous in a way no one does. There are times when you can’t even look at him because your nerves get the best of you.

It’s mostly because of the way he looks at you with a soft, loving look in his eyes. He doesn’t look at anyone else like that, but when he’s with you-- when he thinks you’re not looking-- you see it in the way the corners of his eyes crinkle very subtly as his lips curve up into a tiny little smile that vanishes when you do look at him. You’ve never seen him act like that before and the fact that it’s because of you makes it hard to deal with.

It’s because he does things for you that he doesn’t do for anyone else--

Like the one time he saw you sitting with a frown on your face in the middle of the lecture and he leaned in towards you.

“What’s wrong?” he had asked

“Nothing” you shook your head at him

“Liar” he whispered as he reached across and placed an index finger on the middle of your forehead. “Then what’s this?” he referred to the frown you were wearing.

You sighed and he pulled his hand away.. “Hoseok has been pestering me to give him the first draft for the profile but I haven’t written anything yet” you mumbled dropping your head between your arms on the table.

“Do you want me to kick his ass?” he had whispered with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“What?” your head shot up as you looked at him. “No”

“Fine. But you’ll tell me if someone really bothers you?” sincerity reflected in his eyes.

“Jeon. Shut up” you had shaken your head at him and he had snickered in response.

Or when he had saved you from getting hurt  

You had been so immersed in giving him a mini lecture about what normal people do when they bump into someone when a cart full of boxes had rolled into your path.

“Y/n!” he yelled and pulled you to the side towards him. “Are you okay?” he had asked in a soft voice which made you lose your train of thoughts.

You simply nodded at him and continued walking.

Or the one time he lent you his umbrella

You were leaving the campus because your classes were over for the day. You cut through the football field because it was the shortest way. But what you didn’t know was that the football team was practicing at the time.

Your mind was so preoccupied with the stress of all the assignments that you didn’t realize Jeongguk was calling out your name. So you continued walking. When you were almost out of the bounds of college, rain started to fall. It pulled you out of your trance and you groaned upon realizing you did not have your umbrella.

You pulled up the hoodie over your head which was starting to get soaked as you felt rain droplets falling on your head. Then suddenly you felt a shadow loom over you and looking back you had found Jeongguk was holding an umbrella over your head.

“You’ll get sick” he said.

“Where did you come from?” you gaped at him.

“Practice” he motioned towards the field and then you saw all the players you had previously missed.

“Why are you here? Go practice. You’ll get in shit” you started walking again when he tugged your wrist to make you stop.

“One, I am the captain so I won’t get in shit. Two, take this or you’ll get wet and then you’ll get sick”

“You care why?” you narrowed your eyes in question.

“Because I just do. Now stop being a stubborn little idiot and take it” he thrusted the umbrella into your hand and jogged away towards the field covering his head with his hands.

A knock sounds on your bedroom door which goes by unnoticed because you are still thinking about Jeongguk.

“Thinking about me?”

Your heart leaps, as you hear a voice behind you but upon turning back you are met with Jeongguk who is offering you his usual grin.

“Holy shit Jeon, you scared me” you exhale loudly as finally the breath that had gotten stuck in your throat passes through.

“I see you’re not ready” he’s leaning against the doorframe, wearing a black denim jacket, his timberlands and a white shirt with black jeans with his hair— that damn long hair or his tied back in a bun at the top of his head. He looks—- nope. You shake your head and turn towards the vanity. He looks whatever— not even a little bit good.

“Wait” your brows furrow in realization as you turn to face him. “How did you get in?”

“Next time don’t leave the front door open” he steps inside the room and flops onto your bed. He lies on his side, propping an elbow up and resting his cheek in the palm of his hand “It could have been a thief, or a serial killer in my stead”

You roll your eyes. “Somehow you’re worse than both of those”

You hear him chuckle and shoot him an unimpressed look. “Why are you in my room?”

“Geez, way to thank me”

“Thank you for what?”

“You know that one time I saved you from that drunk asshole at the restaurant, and now for picking you up” his lips purse into a thin line.

Oh yes. You still haven’t thanked him for it.

“Thanks” you mumble.

“Not good enough” he shakes his head as he straightens up.

“What do you want?” you sigh.

“I want to make up for that one time when you kissed me and I ran out like an asshole” he scoots to the edge of the bed and pulls the chair you are sitting on closer to himself.

“What?” you gawk as you are being dragged towards him.

“Well, you see, I got scared. I didn’t know how to react so I ran off. Not my best moment, but can you blame me?” he leans towards you as he places his hands on the armrests of the chair on either side of you.

You cannot believe he’s bringing it up. That moment is easily one of the worst moments of your life. Maybe it’s even at the top of your list because of how embarrassing it was. Before that moment, you cannot recall another one as mortifying. It’s a memory you want to forget because it still brings about deep feelings of humiliation.

You gulp and look away as your eyes dart across the floor, matching the state of your mind which runs rampant with hundreds of thoughts. You play with your fingers, avoiding his gaze as it rests on you.

Then he leans in, until his lips are close to yours. Your eyes flutter close of their own accord and your breathing picks up pace. “Jeon-”

“Shh” he says, placing a finger on your lips.

You wait for it-- that familiar feeling of euphoria which results from his lips pressing onto yours. You wait for your heartbeat to quicken more than it already is because of his touch.  You wait for your skin to feel like it’s on fire and for your cheeks to feel like they’ll melt from the heat.

But it doesn’t come. Instead what you do feel is his lips pressing softly against your nose. “I won’t kiss you without your permission. Ever”

Your eyes open and you see Jeongguk has resumed his relaxed position as he’s leaning on his elbows once again and offering you a gentle smile. You blink profusely trying to comprehend what happened because this is highly uncharacteristic of Jeongguk. You dwell on it for a few seconds as you keep your focus on him.

On second thought, it’s not uncharacteristic of him. It’s just that you always assumed he wouldn’t ever say something like that.

Maybe you don’t need to teach him how to love you, maybe you need to teach yourself how to love him.

>>>>>>>>

Arriving at Jimin’s house, you find yourself on the receiving end of a puzzled look from Jeongguk. “Isn’t this Jimin’s house?”

You nod. “Put this on” you hand him a blindfold.

“I didn’t know you were kinky like that” he takes the black silk cloth from your hand.

“Remember how I told you, you only have one redeeming quality? You’re losing points here buddy” you remind him.

“Never thought I was gaining any in the first place” he shrugs.

“That’s what you think” you say his own line to him which makes him chuckle.

“So, I did gain points? When? For what?” he eyes you with anticipation.

“You think I’ll tell you? I don’t want to make things worse for myself” you offer a small smile, which you try to suppress.

“Oh come on!” he pouts.

“Again with the pouting” you shake your head at him, biting down on your lip to stop yourself from smiling too much.

“Because I know it works on you” he sticks his tongue out cheekily with a grin.

“What!?”

“I’ve seen it in your eyes. Everytime I pout. You always give in”

“You suck” your lower lip juts out in a pout this time.

“That’s why you like me don’t you?” the already present grin on his face spreads even wider.

You quirk your head to the side to look out of the window. “I don’t like you”

“Then why can't you look at me and say it?” his voice drops a touch, making your cheeks warm up.

“Shut up” you bite back as you glare at him-- although not with the usual contempt.

He starts chuckling and shaking his head. “Oh y/n” he breathes.

“What?”

“You’re cute” he turns to you with a smile.

“You’re crazy” you open the door from your side and get out of the car.

> > > > > > >

For a football player Jeongguk sure does have shitty balance. But then again you have to give him benefit of the doubt because he is blindfolded. As you help him up the steps you can’t help but admire how he looks-- hair up in a bun once again, as tiny strands fall on either side of his face. Everything about him is unlike a football player except for the bomber jacket he is wearing. It’s like the trademark of college football and it screams “captain”.

“Y/n, will you catch me if I fall?” he muses, following you quietly as you hold his hand and lead him. You hadn’t wanted to, but then he took it upon himself to hold your hand because-

“It’s good practice. I am going to be doing this a lot. So why not get some practice in?” he jokes earning himself a hard slap on the arm. “Ow!” he whines. “What the fuck girlfriend?”

“I swear Jeon, you call me that one more time I will kill you” you say in a firm even voice.

“Anyway” he waves you off quickly. “Will you catch me if I fall?” he muses

“Do I look like I can catch you? You are two times taller than I am” you shake your head at his idiocy.

“Shh” he places a finger on his lips. “Don’t let the feminists hear you” he chuckles, making you snort.

“Did you just laugh at my joke?’ he asks, stepping over the final step of the stairs with your help.

“You’re hallucinating” you deadpan.

You walk towards the front door hand in hand, Jeongguk’s eyes still blindfolded. knock on the door and don’t even have to wait before Jimin is opening the door while flashing his positively bright smile at you. “You came!” he wraps you in a hug and notices yours and Jeongguk’s hands laced together tightly. “Did you finally agree to be his girlfriend?” he whispers

“No you dumbass. He’s blindfolded so I was helping him. Do you want the captain of the football team to break his leg or something?” you frown at him in disbelief. He could be super naive sometimes— or maybe you can be super blind.

“Too bad” he shrugs. “You guys are cute together” he whispers before ushering you and Jeongguk in.

The moment you enter inside, you separate yourself from Jeongguk for much needed space. You find yourself heading towards the tiny bar counter near the kitchen, upon which are laid various types of alcohol-- just what you need, because if you are to survive this party with Jeongguk you need to be slightly buzzed.

Behind you, commotion begins which draws your attention as you turn around.Jeongguk greets his teammates with a wide grin on his face, and then his eyes catch yours and you almost gasp because of the surprise and quickly avert your gaze.

For some reason which you cannot fathom, you look up again to find him hugging one of his teammates but his gaze is directed at you, as he smiles. He lets go of his teammate and for a brief second interacts with him before his eyes flicker back to you.

You need to look away, you should look away but you don’t. Instead, you make eye contact and it lasts for a good four seconds before you realize you really should not be doing that.

Once it gets too overwhelming— the feelings and sensations— you turn towards the alcohol and pour yourself a glass. You chug it before pouring another and then turning around to face the living room where Jeongguk is. He is high fiving and hugging and greeting people and you wonder if it gets exhausting as you sip your drink. You notice the smile on his face for one brief moment, which makes your mouth split into a grin. But then you realize what you’re doing and zip your mouth into a line, schooling your expression into one of boredom.

You look to the other side of the living room and find a young couple busy amongst themselves, detached from the rest of their surroundings. They’re playing with each other’s fingers and they’re talking and laughing, oblivious to everything. You observe them and somehow the image of them translates into one of you and Jeongguk for a brief second. You almost drop the glass in your hand, eyes widening in horror.

Jeongguk quietly slides next to you. “What’s got you that way?”

“Jesus!” you jump. “Can you stop creeping up on me like that?”

“Sorry, love”. The nickname he has for you flows past his lips so naturally and effortlessly. Surprisingly enough you never cared much for it but somehow at this moment, you realize how easily he addresses you like that. It’s a term of endearment not everyone uses. Yet he does, and when it happens you manage to block it out. But right now you hear it loud and clear. You glance at the cup in your hand and attribute your sudden attention to detail to the alcohol. “What were you thinking?” he gazes at you.

“Nothing” you shake your head, eyes flickering to the couple.

Jeongguk glances between you and them breaking out into a grin. “Do you want that?” he questions with a quiet gentleness to his voice which once again manages to catch you off guard.

On the one hand, his softer side makes you want to hug him, while on the other his usual self makes you want to hit him for acting like an idiot. There is no middle ground between the two.

“I am drinking and you’re the one acting drunk” you state with a scoff

“Oh, love” he sighs, and there it is again— that awareness of how easily he calls you ‘love’.

“Why do you call me that?” you question, supplying a sincere look that you hope conveys your curiosity.

“Because you remind me of love and how it’s supposed to be warm, selfless, giving, radiant and innocent” his lips form into that soft, fond smile that always succeeds in making your heart race, just like it is now.

“I remind you of love?” your curiosity piques the more you look at him.

He nods.

“Are you high?” you face scrunches in confusion as you stare at him.

He snickers but somehow his voice comes out laced with disappointment. “Too stubborn to see as always” he turns his head to observe at the couple

You blink, trying your best to understand what he means but all he offers you is a smile, the meaning of which you can’t decipher. Because although he’s smiling, there is something in his eyes-- in the way they are too solemn, the way his smile isn’t reaching his eyes which makes your chest fill with a heavy feeling.

You elect to ignore his comment because you don’t want to engage in whatever this is between you. It’s too overwhelming, this fine line you walk between being frenemies one moment and something more the next. It never helps that Jeongguk always says something that is neither here nor there and is something smack dab in the middle of the spectrum which leaves you feeling even more confused.

“How did you like the surprise?” you put the cup of beer down behind you on the counter and jump up to sit on in.

“It’s nice” he muses as his eyes still rest on the couple. He’s got a faint smile on his face as he leans against the counter, elbows resting on the top.

For a moment it confuses you because you don’t know whether he means the get-together or the two lovebirds immersed in their own world. His eyes are filled with a kind of longing you have never seen in them before. They are solemn yet they twinkle with a hope-- for what you don’t know. But when he’s like this, lost in his own thoughts, disengaged from the world-- that's when you truly see him.

“Just nice?” you question, which catches his attention for a brief second as he glances at you and then goes back to observing the couple.  

“Yeah. Nice” he supplies, still looking like he’s too lost in his thoughts. You follow his gaze and find yourself also looking at the unknown couple.

“Don’t tell me this surprise has got you all sappy”

“Why?” he turns his head towards you. “You don’t like me when I am like this?”

“I don’t like you anyway” you roll your eyes-- but it’s playful.

“Liar” he whispers pulling his lower lip between his teeth, lips curving into a tiny flirty smile.

You clear your throat as it suddenly feels dry. “You seem like you’ve got a lot on your mind”

“Perceptive as always” he chuckles.

“Well, it’s not hard when you’re only like this five percent of the time and the other ninety-five-you fuck around” a corner of your lip tugs into a teasing smile, which he catches.

“I take it back. You wouldn’t be able to see it if it was staring you right in the face” he says with a shake of his head as his head hangs low.

“See what?” a frown decorates your forehead as confusion registers in your mind at his words.

“Everything” he glances at you. “All of it. How do you not see it?”

“See what?” you gesture wildly with your hands because you hate how he’s being so not specific about whatever it is he’s going on about. “Can you be any more vague” you sigh.

He mutters something under his breath, his fist clenched by his side.

“What is going on with you?” you actually feel confused and slightly frustrated. “Can’t you be direct?”

“Can you be more of a fool y/n. How is it that you have a high IQ but a low EQ?” he imitates your sigh-- looking utterly defeated. The fact that he’s talking in circles is beginning to make your head spin.

“Excuse me?” you nudge him hard feeling defensive, letting your feelings escape through your tone.

“Are you really going to make me say it again? Right now?” he dismisses in a soft tone with a shake of his head.

“Yes!” you look at him with wide eyes. “Please say it and spare me this pain of trying to figure out what’s gotten into you”

“Why do you care?” he folds his arms across his chest, giving you that slightly narrow-eyed curious look.

“Because--” you stare at him open-mouthed. “I can’t believe I am saying this but you are much more bearable when you are your usual annoying talkative self. Whatever this is” you wag your finger up and down at him. “I don’t like it”  For whatever reason, it’s true. You don’t like it when he acts all stressed out and withdraws into himself. It irks you because you like him when he’s smiling, and laughing-- way more than you would care to admit.

Then you pick up your beer cup and resume mindless drinking as Jeongguk watches you quietly with a tiny hint of a smile on his mouth. He doesn’t stop you, he doesn’t even blink. All he does is observe you quietly which is worse because it unsettles you. You notice him and suddenly the small sips turn into hugs gulps as you chug the drink and slam the glass on the counter.

He folds his arms across his chest with a faint smile on his lips which doesn’t quite reach his eyes, yet the corners crinkle-- it’s when someone in love silently admires the subject of their affections.

“Stop looking at me like that”

“How much do you hate me?” his voice is quiet, yet that muted smile remains on his lips

“Hate. Pffft” you press your lips in a thin line. “That’s a strong word” a hiccup escapes your chest.

The tiny sound draws Jeongguk’s attention and quickly he turns and pours you a glass of water. It hovers in front of you as you look between him and his outstretched hand. He motions with his head to glass as he looks at you. You drink it and find the cool water soothing the burning sensation in your throat.

“My, my Jeon” you put the glass down. “Aren’t you thoughtful?” an imperceptible smile crosses your lips.

“It’s part of my charm” he shrugs with that snarky quality making its way back into his voice.

You snap and point a finger at him. “That’s what I am talking about. This is much better. Please don’t become all sappy on me. It’s not a good look on you”

He chuckles. “And worrying for me is not a good look on you” he gently taps the tip of your nose with a playful wink.

You snort. “Who said I was worried for you?”

“If this wasn’t your failed attempt at getting me to cheer up then what was it?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“Delusional as always” you pass a shy, flirty smile which he reciprocates as you both quietly look at each other-- and to a third party you would look like two people too blind to see how deep they are in their feelings for one another.

“Right. I am totally delusional are you’re totally not worried about me “he mumbles under his breath.

“Stop saying I am worried about you. Why would I be worried about you?” you fold your arms defensively over your chest shooting him an unimpressed look.

> > > > > >

If there is one thing in the world that can unite you and Jeongguk, it’s UNO. As you sit in a circle— swearing under your breath because you and Jeongguk are losing against Hoseok and Jimin— you can’t help but want to kick whosoever idea this was. That is because you hate losing, and Jeongguk definitely hates losing. But then you got placed into one team because apparently a boyfriend and girlfriend should be together in one team.

And now you’re in a losing situation and both of you are feeling too competitive. From the periphery of your vision you glance at Jeongguk to find his brows knitted in concentration, lower lip pulled between his teeth.

“What do you think?” Jeongguk leans in to whisper against your ear as he turns the cards slightly towards you so you can see them.

“Play the blue one” you eye the discard pile and notice a blue card which serves your turn well.

Jeongguk plays the blue one and you end up with two cards. The game continues on and Jimin and Hoseok also have two cards left. The atmosphere around you is silent as the other teams who had already had their turn watch in anticipation.

“UNO” you yell startling Jeongguk who is right next to you. His eyes widen and a grin teeters to the edges of his lips.

“UNO!” he yells as he realizes he’s only holding one card.

Jimin and Hoseok have vexed looks on their faces as they eye you and Jeongguk. “Damn” Jimin mumbles under his breath as he slams the last two cards on the floor while you and Jeongguk celebrate.

“We won!” he shoots up and you follow as both of you jump up and down holding hands and then he pulls you in for a bear hug.

“Good job y/n” he sways you side to side.

“You too Jeon!” you give a gentle squeeze.

You embrace each other in the middle of the living room— Meanwhile everyone else watches you with wide eyes and raised brows.

“I told you she likes him” Jimin whispers to Hoseok.

“Does she know she likes him?” Hoseok asks a legit question because god knows you can be blind and knowingly stubborn when it comes to admitting your feelings for a certain Jeon Jeongguk.

>>>>>>>>>>

After that very intense game of UNO ends, Jimin and Hoseok decide it’s a great idea to go out for drinks. It’s actually a very bad idea because you’re already sort of buzzed and so is everyone else because there was more than enough booze at Jimin’s place. But somehow it’s not as fun drinking in the house as it is outside the house-- a logic you cannot understand.

You tried to get out of it-- really tried but then Hoseok threatened to tell Jeongguk about that one time you got drunk in high school and serenaded him thinking he was Zac Efron. It’s the one truly terrifying experience of your life that you like to keep under wraps. Of course it sucks that Hoseok knows all this about you and can use it against you. So when you hear that Jeongguk might become privy to this deepest darkest secret of yours-- of course you don’t want him to know.

At first your immediate response is a very hyperenthusaistic ‘no’ when Hoseok says he’ll tell Jeongguk. You don’t even hesitate for a second before the word slips out of your mouth--albeit very loudly. Then once you have had time to digest your reaction, you can’t help but wonder why you were desperate enough to say no without even a slight hesitation. You dwell on it, and then some more and as you’re all walking towards the nearest pub, you reach this conclusion: it’s because if Jeongguk knows he’ll use it against you, which you simply won't stand for.

You say it like it's a mantra in your head-- quietly walking next to Jeongguk who is too busy talking about football with Hoseok and Jimin to pay attention to how silent you’ve fallen. You repeat it again and again because a small part of you tries to refute that weak reasoning-- almost as if you’re trying to make yourself believe that you don’t want any embarrassing detail of your life made known to Jeongguk because he’ll use it against and not because you’ll simply be too embarrassed if he of all people finds out.

It’s the exact same thing Jimin had said when that desperate no had crossed your lips.

“See? You like him so much you don’t even want him to know about this because you’ll be embarrassed and you don’t want him to think you’re weird. Why can’t you just accept it?” he had said, at which point you had opted to slap him upside the head and settle for a small shut up. After all, there are only finite ways in which one can say ‘no’.

You shake your head as if that will make all these thoughts go away. Then the unthinkable happens as you’re walking to your destination. Jeongguk while still conversing with Hoseok and Jimin, slowly slides his hand into yours, interlocking your fingers and pulls you close to his side. He’s so subtle about it he doesn’t even stop to look at you. He just does it naturally without drawing attention, without uttering a single word and without interrupting his conversation with your best friends.

Your breath gets caught in your throat, and you feel your heart skipping a beat and then a second later it starts hammering-- reminding you that you can’t run away. Sure you can alter your thoughts and your words, but physically you can’t control these reactions Jeongguk incites in you.

You glance up at the man walking next to you. All you can focus on is the warm feeling of his hand against yours and how he’s acting so naturally as if he’s done this--holding your hand thing-- every single day of his life. Small tingles escape from the palm of your hands and travel up your arm and then it spreads to the rest of your body as a chill runs down your spine. As if that’s not enough your lips begin to curve up in a smile, and as you try to bite down on your lip to stop yourself, you feel the tightness stretching your cheeks and you end up giving in despite yourself-- smiling like a fool living in the sweet denial of love.

You gulp hard and then out of nowhere the realization hits you that you haven’t even once tried to wrest your hand from his. You’ve just let it be and walked hand in hand with him like it’s natural for you too. He keeps you close to his side, his grip snug against your hand so that if you wanted to you could slip your hand out easily. You should, you definitely should but you don’t which itself brings about an onslaught of a hundred different thoughts.  

While you are busy having a mental breakdown, you arrive at the pub, to find a long line outside stretching for about half a block.

“I told you we should have made reservations” Hoseok whines.

“Reservations for drinks? Are you crazy bro?” Jimin replies with a shake of his head.

Jeongguk chuckles watching the exchange between your friends all the while holding onto your hand, and you stand quietly next to him hoping they don’t see it.

“It’s chilly” Hoseok suddenly mumbles and then you feel it.

Now that he’s said it, of course you’re feeling it.

Then another unthinkable thing happens. Jeongguk very subtly places your already interlocked hands in his jacket pocket. Once again he doesn’t say a word, doesn’t look at you, or interrupt the conversation. He just does it like he’s done this a million times too. You glance up at him and he’s just looking at Hoseok and Jimin as they bicker with a smile. It’s not the fact that your hand is currently locked in his. It’s not the awareness of the emotions and sensations you’re feeling. What makes your knees go weak and your chest swell with emotion is how quietly he’s doing it. There is something about the way that he’s so natural about it that makes your heart race faster. It doesn’t feel forced. It feels just right-- and that’s what makes you so nervous.

You feel the warmth rise to your cheeks, softly melting into your skin and morphing into heat as it emanates. Even the slight chill in the night air isn’t enough to dull it down. Your breathing becomes faster, your lungs feel like they are being stretched as you try your best to take in air, but none it ever gets down there because you just can't remember how to breathe. You can feel the adrenaline in your veins, your mouth slowly but surely drying as each second passes with your hand shoved enveloped by the warmth of Jeongguk’s hand wrapped around yours.

Jimin’s eyes accidentally fall onto your disappeared hands. He nudges Hoseok who follows his line of sight to find your and Jeongguks’ hands safely tucked in his pocket. Wide smiles plaster themselves onto their lips as they look on, while both of you remain unaware of the two pairs of eyes closely observing you.

“We’ll be here all night long” Jeongguk speaks at which point both Jimin and Hoseok wipe the smiles on their faces and pretend not to have seen anything while nodding along.

“Should we just leave?” Jimin questions.

You’re the first one to nod in agreement-- too enthusiastically in fact which makes Jeongguk utter a soft chuckle as he looks down at you.

“Yeah” he mumbles quietly, as his gaze rests on you taking in how small you look next to him and how much he’ll give anything to keep you by his side-- safe and sound.

>>>>>>>>>

It’s been two weeks since you were given the task of writing Jeongguk’s profile and for the thousandth time as you sit to write, your mind draws a blank. How do you begin and where do you begin? The biggest issue for you though is maintaining objectivity because somehow the time you have spent with Jeongguk has made you realize several different things.

1. He’s not as bad as you thought he was, and therefore you can’t really hate him anymore 2. Since you can't hate him anymore, you don’t know what you are supposed to do 3. You feel things around him that you haven’t felt around other people and you are terrified as to what it means.

The library thankfully is empty save for you so you can whine and complain aloud without attracting attention which is what you are busy doing when Jimin walks in. He looks like death-- hair dishevelled and sticking out in different directions, face smeared slightly with dirt along with his shirt, and a shuffling gait as he approaches you.

He falls down limply onto the chair, leaning against the back and his arms fall loosely to the sides. You arch a brow in curiosity as you observe the young boy in front of you who suddenly looks like he’s gained years.

“Wow” you comment, shutting down your laptop, lowkey thankful for the distraction. “You look like shit��

“Blame your damn boyfriend” he mumbles, eyelids half droopy.

“For the last time, he’s not my boyfriend” a muscle in your jaw twitches as you glare at Jimin.

“Whatever it is” he waves you off. “Can’t you just accept it? He’s taking it out on us” Jimin lifts himself off the chair and offers you an impassive, blank look.

“What do you mean?” your face contorts in confusion.

“He’s frustrated. All of us can see it. Hell, the whole fucking college knows except you” he looks at you with the same lifeless gaze.

“Knows what?”

“Jeongguk likes you!” Jimin throws his hands in the air, finally the listless look replaced by some kind of emotion-- mostly frustration.

“No” you shake your head vigorously. “He doesn’t”. Despite him basically having confessed to you that day by the bus stop, you still refuse to believe it.

“Oh for fuck's sake” he groans, hiding his face in his palms.

“We’ve been practicing for four hours straight. All because he’s annoyed you can’t see his feelings and he’s trying to make that frustration go away by distracting himself with football. Or way worse because you refuse to acknowledge his feelings and your own”

“I am dead inside Jimin” you try to lighten the mood but Jimin only supplies a blank look, definitely not impressed. “Sorry” you look away sheepishly.

“Please y/n” please Jimin falls off his chair and onto his knees as he looks at you--pleading with despair.

“Jimin what the hell?” you jump from your seat in surprise as you force him to get up. “Stop”

“You stop. You like him right?” Jimin falls back on his seat with a long sigh.

“I don’t” you avoid his eyes, as yours dart around.

“Fine then. I guess we'll just set him up with Jaehyun’s sister” Jimin pouts with a shrug.

At this your head whips in his direction so fast you end up feeling dizzy. “What?”

“Yeah. Jaehyun has been pestering Jeongguk for months to date his sister because he thinks they’ll make a good couple. Honestly, I think so too because I have met his sister and she is very sweet and has a warm personality. Jeongguk will like her too once he meets her.”

You blink, feeling your energy being drained away and a sense of dread settling into your stomach. The thought of Jeongguk with someone else obviously doesn’t sit well with you because of the sense of urgency that starts to build. You don’t know what for, but it rises out of your stomach and slowly spreads to the rest of your body turning you restless. You look at Jimin, hoping he can see what you’re feeling in your eyes, the way Jeongguk sees it. But all Jimin does is stare at you in a blank fashion, as if he is incapable of expressing himself in any other way.

An image of Jeongguk with another girl passes through your mind and you shut your eyes tight to make it go away because it leaves its mark in your chest in the form of panic. All you feel is panic. Panic because Jeongguk might end up liking Jaehyun’s sister. Because if he likes her then somehow you’ll feel bad and if you feel bad then that means…

“What are you two doing here?”

Jimin turns his head towards the owner of the voice and you look past his shoulder to see the devil walking towards you, with his bag slung over one shoulder, black shirt hanging loosely off his frame, black sweatpants fitting perfectly along the curves of his thighs and to complete the look black boots along with a black baseball cap on his head, with his long hair sticking out of the bottom around his neck.

Damn him and his stupid fucking outfits. He never even tries and yet he has the ability to make your heart flutter.

“Jeon?”

“Must you always greet me like this y/n?” his lips stretch into a playful smile as he takes off his backpack and sits on the empty chair next to you.

“Must you sit next to me?” you glance at him and quickly open your laptop again to distract yourself.

“ I want to” his smile only widens.

You groan internally because you’re feeling it all over again— the butterflies, the heat seeping into your cheeks, the way your heart starts to beat faster and your breaths hitch in your throat.

“What are you writing?” he leans in towards you his shoulder touching yours. Your eyes widen momentarily at the contact.

“Umm” you clear your throat. “About you”

“I knew you liked me!” He whispers excitedly in your ear

“What!?” you shriek, unable to control the thrumming of your chest.

“Why can’t you just accept it?” he leans in further, nose gently touches the side of your face and your eyes automatically close as he makes you feel so many emotions. Overwhelmed, you push your chair away and run out.

“Y/n!” Jeongguk calls out after you with a grin stuck to his face.

“Why do you always do this?” Jimin shakes his head at him once you are gone.

“It’s fun. Plus it's cute how y/n blushes every time” he says with a playful grin.

“Fucking whipped man” Jimin sighs

Jeongguk leans into the palm of his hand squishing his cheek as he sulks. “I’ve always been whipped. Your best friend just refuses to see it”

“Whatever will happen to you two” Jimin purses his lips and shakes his head like he’s disappointed.

>>>>>>>>>>>

After running out like a damn coward from the library, and leaving all your stuff there like the intelligent person you are-- you end up bumping into Kinsey who is one of your group mates for a project you’re doing in your horrendous Microbiology class. You thought it would be a fun class with getting to wear that white lab coat and conducting experiments but you instead find the class to be so boring it makes you fall asleep.

“Hey Kinsey” you greet with a smile.

“Hey y/n. You remember we’re meeting today for the end of term project right?”

Do you remember that? No. Will you tell her? No.

“Yes I do” you lie with ease.

“We’ll see you in the library then at 6 as decided?”

Holy shit at 6 pm? How the hell are you supposed to get home?. You have half a mind to say no but you realize that your whole grade rides on this project and you end up getting a bad grade, you won’t just screw yourself, you’ll screw everyone else too which isn’t fair. So you agree to meet in the library at six and you are sure that you’ll be late getting home because when in this world ever have group meetings finished on time?

Kinsey leaves you with a lot to think about. However most important at this time though is getting your stuff from the library but you’re too scared to go back. But you have no choice because one you can’t just leave your stuff at the mercy of Park Jimin and Jeon Jeongguk, and two you still have a couple of hours to spare until you meet your group. So you need your stuff. Otherwise without your laptop, and your cell phone which you also left on the table-- you have nothing to do. At the very least you need these two things.

So begrudgingly, hating how the logic makes sense, you trudge back the way you came, and quietly sneak to the second floor, keeping your eyes and ears open in case Jeon Jeongguk appears. He has this bad habit of sneaking up on you when you least expect it.

When you reach the second floor, to your right are the bookshelves and you quickly hide behind one and peek from behind at the tables on the opposite side to you. You catch the sight of the table you were sitting on but it’s empty and none of your stuff is there. One of them took it and you desperately hope it was Jimin and not--

“Looking for this?” you turn around to find Jeongguk holding your bag by the grab handle mid-air, raising a brow at you.

Holy shit.

You reach for your bag but he retreats his arm. “Are you trying to avoid me?”

“No” you shake your head, reaching for the bag again but he steps back.

“Stop doing that and give me my backpack. I have a lot of work to do, unlike you”

“You are avoiding me” he says with a straight face.

“I really need my things Jeon. I am supposed to meet my group at 6 for a project so I need my stuff. Please”

“You’re staying here until after 6?” he stretches his arm and holds your bag out to you.

“Yeah” you nod, taking the bag and putting the straps over your shoulder.

“How will you get home?The bus stops running early today because of the parade”

“I’ll figure something out” you shrug and pivot on your heels, beginning your walk to somewhere you can be alone because lord knows being around Jeongguk is overwhelming and leaves you feeling like you don’t know what to do with yourself.

>>>>>>>

You had gotten so busy with working on his profile that you kind of put everything else on the back burner— including the one group assignment you had to do as an end of term project.

You and your group mates head out towards the parking lot after finishing because for one all of them drove and second you could take a shortcut through the parking lot to get to the bus stop two blocks down. Had it not been for the stupid spring parade the road wouldn’t be blocked and you wouldn’t have to walk two damn blocks just to catch the other bus.

Your group members even offer to give you a ride home but you refuse because you don’t want to be a burden.

“Bye” you said to Kinsey, and just as you turn around to leave your eyes fall upon none other than Jeongguk who is leaning against the hood of his car— eyes glued to his phone.

“Oh. I get it. Your boyfriend was coming to pick you up” Kinsey says with a suggestive smile on her face.

“No” you shake your head vigorously. “I didn’t even know he was here”

“It’s alright. I get it” she winks as she opens the door. “Have fun”

You open your mouth to protest but she is already settled in the car and starting the engine. Then she drives off into the night leaving you a little shocked.

Once she disappears from your sight you walk over to Jeongguk who doesn’t see you coming.

“What are you doing here at this time of the night?” you stop in front of him catching his attention.

“Oh hey!” he puts his phone away and greets you with that cheeky smile. “I am here to pick you up”

“What? Why?”

“Because it’s..” he glanced at the watch on his wrist. “It’s 10:05 at night and you should not be taking transit. It’s not safe”

“But-”

“What kind of a guy would I be if I let a girl— a catch like you— take the transit in the middle of the night. My mom didn’t raise me that way” he shakes his head. “Besides, I can’t have some random handsome stranger on the bus steal you away from me” he breaks out into his signature tooth grin, eyes disappearing into moon shaped crescents.

“I don’t know what kinds of movies you have been watching all your life to get that stupid idea in your head. But It’s okay. I am a big girl. I can handle myself” you offer a smile before pivoting with the intention of walking away. However, you forget you are talking to Jeongguk— he doesn’t give up easily.

He tugs you back by the grab handle on top of your backpack.“Y/n wait” You turn around to look at him.

“Please just come. I’ll feel better about it. I really don’t want you taking transit at this time. It’s not safe. I don’t want anything happening to you”

You regard him— how he’s silently pleading with those sparkly eyes of his, how he sounds so concerned and genuine.

“I live forty minutes away. What if you get hungry?”

“I ate. Plus I came prepared with snacks” he looks proud of himself as he cheekily grins at you.

“What if your parents get mad at you?” you fold your arms

“I am a big boy y/n. Besides, I live alone”

“What if the car runs out of gas?” you quirk a brow at him

“The tank is full. I made sure of that when I came here”

“Umm then, what if….” you stumble for another excuse.

“Nope. No more excuses” he wags his finger side to side.

“Okay. But it’ll take you like two hours to get back home because you live on the opposite side of the city and you have practice tomorrow morning. So you’ll need to wake up early which means if you drop me off you will get home late and won’t have enough time to sleep. If you don’t get enough sleep then how will you go into practice tomorrow morning” you ramble out of concern for him.

He waves you off. “My love, I’ll be fine”

“What if you are so tired, you can’t concentrate and then you injure yourself?”

“I won’t injure myself. I’ll get enough sleep. Stop worrying about me”

“I am not worried about you” you scoff, looking away as your pupils shake.

“Okay fine. You’re totally not worried about me. I concede. Will you please just get in so I can drive you home, then get back to my precious bed and get that proper sleep you’re so not worried about?”

You bite your lip in indecision. Then you figured the more you stand here wasting time the later he would get home— not that you care. But you also know refusing wouldn’t be an option for two reasons: one Jeongguk would rather die than let you take the bus and two it might sort of, kind of break his heart if you refused. But you settle on the former being the reason for saying yes, and definitely not the latter.

“Fine. Thank you” your lips stretch into a grateful making him smile as well.

“Anytime my love” and like the gentleman, he is he opens the door for you and you sit in and he drives you home.

Once you’ve reached home, he leans in and pecks you on the cheek. “Good night y/n” his eyes sparkle as the moonlight through the window hits his irises.

“Drive safe Jeon. Good night” you whisper

>>>>>>>>

The next day, you’re in the elevator heading to your class when it stops at one the floors and a bunch of girls get in squishing you. You shuffle as far back as you can and find yourself pinned to a corner.

“Did you hear Jeongguk asked Jihyun out?” one of them says with a dirty scowl on her face.

Your eyes widen as the words register in your head and your heart starts pounding against your chest.

“Jihyun?” one of the girls in the group asks

“Yeah. Jaehyun’s sister” the first girl replies with yet another scowl.

“Wow. I thought he would never date anyone” the second girl.

“A guy like him can’t be single for too long” the other shrugs.

So when Jimin told you that they would set Jeongguk up with Jaehyun’s sister he wasn’t joking. You had taken it too lightly and now Jeongguk is with another girl.

A lump forms in your throat and you try your best to choke it back. But then the tightness builds and you feel the back of your throat constricting and a tiny sob escapes. You slap a hand to your mouth as the two girls look at you. You duck your head low so they can’t see the tears pricking the edge of your eyes.

You press the button for the next floor since the board is right next to you. The elevator bell dings and you push past them, earning glares in response.

The tears you had been trying to hold back fall onto your cheeks one after another and your nose starts to feel stuffy. You keep your head low and avoid eye contact with people around you.

As if your luck couldn’t get any worse you end up bumping your head into someone’s chest—

“Sorry” a familiar voice cuts through the air and you wish that a hole open up in the ground to swallow you whole. “Y/n?”

Jeon frickin Jeongguk makes an appearance at the worst moment.

You try to sidestep him but he tugs your arm to make you stop. “Are you crying?”

“Let me go” you croak, trying to wrest your wrist from his grasp. But he only pulls you towards him. You keep your head low to avoid looking at him.

“Why are you crying?” his soft voice only makes the urge to sob worse.

“It’s none of your business” a muscle in your jaw twitches as you bite through clenched teeth. “Let me go!” you yank your wrist out of his grasp and walk past him to continue on your unknown destination.

“Wait” he pulls at your wrist again. “Did someone say something to you? Do I need to kick someone’s ass because I’ll gladly do it” he’s looking into your eyes with that stupid fucking look-- slight crinkle on his forehead, eyes full of concern that makes you want to melt into a puddle of goo. You look at him, tears falling down your cheeks as you try to decipher exactly what is going through his head. He’s no one. He’s not your boyfriend, he’s not even a friend. To top it all off he’s asked someone else out. So why does he care so much?

You roll your eyes. “Can't you mind your own business?. Besides your girlfriend won’t appreciate seeing you holding onto me like this” you lift the wrist he’s holding and glance at it and then back at him.

“Oh” a look of realization crosses his face, and very subtly a corner of his lips tugs up, but then he’s quick to revert to his usual neutral expression. He lets go of your wrist, and without a word, you pivot on your heels and leave him standing there.

Had you looked back you would have noticed him shaking his head with an affectionate smile that reached his eyes, as he watched your retreating figure.

>>>>>>>>>>

The last thing-- the very last thing you want is to leave the house. You just want to wallow in your misery which you don’t fully comprehend, or rather refuse to acknowledge the reason for. That’s all you want. But having Jimin and Hoseok and best friend’s makes things difficult. You wish that there was a refund policy for friendships because you would definitely cash in on it when both of them barge into your room and rip the covers off you.

You shoot both of them a glare and lift yourself to pull the covers back and fall back onto the bed again. You clutch onto the covers tightly so they can't take them off you. But two of them are stronger than one of you and you feel the cold draft hitting you when they manage to get the duvet off you again.

“What!” you yell at them.

“Get up!” they say in unison.

“Fuck off!” you yell back

“Stop being a child and get up. The world hasn’t ended. You say you don’t even like him! So why are you acting all butt hurt about it” Hoseok’s firm voice cuts through the silence.

“I am not butthurt” you fold your arms defensively as you frown at him.

“Seriously y/n, if you don’t get up I am going to the very last thing you want” Jimin threatens as he folds his arms across his chest too and pouts at you-- daring you to disobey.

“You are all words” you scowl at him.

“Fine” he pulls his phone out of his pocket. You watch as he dials and then puts the phone next to his ear. “Jeongguk, come over right now”

“Jimin!” you yell and shoot up from the bed and jump on Jimin as he catches you by wrapping one arm around your waist. He extends his arm away from your reach and puts the phone on speaker. “Hang up!” you slap him repeatedly on his back. “Hang the fuck up!”

“What’s going on?” you hear Jeongguk’s voice.

“Hang up Jimin!!” you yell at the top of your lungs.

“Alright. I am coming over” you hear Jeongguk’s voice before the dial tone rings.

You look from the phone to Jimin, who is smiling at you. “Don’t challenge me next time y/n”

Jimin lets go of you and you flop on the bed with a thud. “I hate you” you glance at them both before hiding your face behind your hands.

“We love you too. So, now he’s coming over. Here’s what is going to happen” Hoseok crouches down in front of you and pulls your hands away from your face, holding them tight to your sides as he looks at you. “You’re going to tell him how you feel about him. Don’t dare deny it y/n” he warns.

“But he asked Jihyun-”

“No” Jimin says sternly and shakes his head. “No more excuses”

You look at Jimin and then down at Hoseok. “You guys suck”

“You know you like him. You do” he pauses as he studies you carefully. “Just tell him because he likes you too. A lot. He’s even told you like a million times. Stop breaking his heart”

“What?” your eyes widen as you feel betrayed. “Breaking his heart? When did I-” and then you realize how many times he said he liked you-- directly and indirectly-- and how everytime you brushed him off.

“You know y/n, there is only so much time he will wait for you. If you don’t, he’ll move on and then you’ll regret not saying anything” Jimin speaks as he peers into your eyes.

“Exactly” Hoseok nods.

You groan and fall back onto the bed. “I hate all of this”

Jimin grabs one of your arms and Hoseok grabs the other as they pull you up. “Stop” both of them say in unison again.

“Tell him” Hoseok says a final time before both of them retreat out of your room, giving you plenty to think about.

> > > > > > >

As not promised, Jeongguk shows up. He actually shows up at your place. He always does things he’s not supposed to do like showing up at your place and never does things he’s supposed to do like answer your interview questions. When you hear the front the door open, you quickly run to the door of your room and stand with your back against it, pushing as much as you can because you know Hoseok and Jimin are going to come at any moment to get you.

As expected you hear the sounds of footsteps and whispers outside your door. “She better not have locked it” you hear Hoseok mumble.

You feel the handle digging into the small of your back as Hoseok tries to open the door from the other side. You press your lips together, as the pain gets to you slowly. You try to hold it in but then the door bursts open. You lose your balance since you are pushed away due to the sheer force that is Jimin and fall to the floor on your knees.

“I knew it” Hoseok looks at you accusingly from behind Jimin as he holds open the door. “He’s here”

“Go downstairs and talk to him” Jimin helps you up.

“Do I have to?” you look at him pleadingly.

“Yes. What do you think is going to happen if you tell him?” he says in a firm voice

“I don’t know” you reply. But you imagine Jeongguk could just change his mind and tell you he never liked you, in which case you would be hurt. He could tell you he likes Jihyun now and that he’s forgotten all about you. He could tell you he’s already moved on and then things are awkward between you for the rest of your college life. But more than all of this is just the fact that he’s Jeongguk and you are y/n and your relationship was never supposed to come to this.

You were always supposed to walk that thin line between friends and enemies and nothing more. But then you got to know Jeongguk and how kind he is. You got to know his ambitions and how hard he will work for them. You understood that he’s a human too and he breaks down like everyone else. That understanding changed something — in fact it changed everything.

So is it not natural for you to hesitate? Why can’t everyone understand that?

At being met nothing but silence Jimin shoves you out of your room, his hand resting on the small of your back, until you are downstairs in the living room just to make sure you don’t run away.

They know you too well.

“Go!” Jimin pushes you and you end up stumbling towards Jeongguk who is standing with his back to you, his eyes glued to the football game. When you hit him because you lose your balance he is quick to turn around and steady you.

“Clearly God never blessed you with balance” he chuckles.”How are you always stumbling and falling over?” he steadies you by placing his hands on your arms and holding you in place.

“T-t-th-thanks” you mutter under your breath as he lets go of your arms. You allow your gaze to settle on the floor as you fidget with your hands. You look over your shoulder at Jimin and Hoseok both of whom give an imperceptible shake of their heads as you silently plead. You guess there is no choice.

“Why did you call me over?” Jeongguk turns to Jimin who abandons his defensive stance.

“Y/n has something to tell you” the corners of his mouth upturn in an encouraging smile as he looks from Jeongguk to you.

“You do?” Jeongguk looks at you with crinkled brows.

You stand silent, unable to look at him, unable to think-- powerless to even move a muscle much less your mouth. You can feel all three men looking at you. Jimin gently squeezes your shoulder.

“Well-” you clear your throat as you look at Hoseok who gives you a thumbs up. “Well the thing is” you clear your throat again, swallowing hard because your mouth is dry. “The- the- the thing is that… I--ummm.. I--uhhh. I-- well I ” you glance at Jeongguk who is watching you with nothing but patience.

“She likes you” Hoseok speaks out nowhere. No one asked him--literally no one. This isn’t how you were going to say it.

Your head whips in his direction as you look at him wide-eyed, and a panicked frown decorating your forehead.

“She does huh” Jeongguk muses with a slow understanding nod. You turn to face him. He’s grinning from ear to ear like a child. He steps towards you, to erase the already minimal distance. “I know you do” he says with a low voice, and a tiny smile that reaches his eyes.

“How?” you blink at him in confusion.

“I told you, your eyes always give you away y/n” he speaks in a gentle, calming tone which helps calm your nerves down. “In the hallway that day when you bumped into me, you were crying and when I asked why you told me to mind my own business. But then when I held your wrist you told me my girlfriend wouldn’t like it. The way you looked at me-- heartbroken, hurt, with so much anger and pain in your eyes -- I knew right then and there, my love” he reaches for both of your hands and holds them in his.

“Didn’t you ask Jihyun out?”

“That…” he tilts his head as he turns to look at Hoseok and Jimin pointing at them with his thumb. “It’s not true. It was their plan to get some kind of reaction out of you”

You turn to your best friends with a look of betrayal on your face. “What?”

“Would you have admitted your feelings otherwise?” Hoseok says defensively.

“Our work is done so we will leave,” Jimin says hurriedly already on the move and you open your mouth to chastise them but before you can they run-- as in sprint the fastest you have ever seen them before. Jeongguk chuckles watching them and you just stare at their retreating figures in disbelief.

“Well,” Jeongguk turns to you. “They aren’t wrong”

You bite your lip as you look at him. “I guess I like you”

He chuckles softly. “A guess is better than you denying it”

Silence befalls as both of you avoid each other’s gazes. Jeongguk awkwardly scratches the nape of his neck while you keep your gaze cast on the floor.

“You still like me? Despite me always brushing off your feelings?”

“Love” he nods, his voice an octave lower. “I’ll always love you. I’ll love you even when I hate you. You can break my heart, do whatever you want with it and I’ll still love you” he looks in your eyes, never once blinking.

“You’re absolutely sure?”

He blinks and his lips curve in a faint smile. “ It’s hard not to y/n. You’re amazing. My favourite thing about you is that you don’t even know how perfectly beautiful you are. You don’t see what I see and that’s your charm” he says in a low gentle voice.

“What don’t I see?”

“How loving you has made me calmer, wiser, kinder, easier, and... better” he steps towards you erasing the small amount of distance between you

“What else?” you whisper, feeling your stomach tightening in knots, and a soft quiver settling in between your thighs.

“You don’t see that you have the ability to make a man crazy with desire yet still be naive enough to not know that. It’s absolutely maddening”

“You always make it so--so hard for me, Jeon” you breathe heavily, feeling that quiet resolve to not acknowledge him deep within you break as each second passes. Because the truth is he does make it hard for you to hate him— and maybe the sun is finally coming up and reality is settling in.

“I think I am going to kiss you” his voice cuts through the silence.

You make a non-committal sound catching yourself off guard and to cover it up you clear your throat. You just look at him and hope he can understand that you are okay with it.

He leans in slowly, and wraps your hands around his waist as he pulls you in. “Stop me at anytime” he tilts his head to the side as his nose brushes past yours and then he presses his lips against yours very gently. Your lips tingle at the contact and intuitively your arms tighten around his waist as you pull him in. The gentle movements of his mouth grow stronger once your lips part and you start kissing him back.

He pulls you in further as his hand rests on the back of your head. Your toes curl from the adrenaline and you moan against his mouth. He pulls back as you take a quick breather in which he also manages to chuckle at your reaction.

“Shut up” you mumble against his mouth as you press your lips against his. You feel the heat building in every part of your body. Your face in particular feels very warm and so do your hands. Jeongguk’s lips move against yours and his hands slowly slide down to rest against the small of your back. He slightly pushes you and in you lose all your breath.

Then you’re tugging him by his shirt and jumping up to wrap your legs around his waist. He supports your weight as he starts walking up the stairs like you weigh nothing for him. Somehow this simple action makes you more impatient, makes you want more because it’s just hot?

Jeongguk kicks open your ajar door with his foot and lays you down on the bed without breaking the kiss. He pulls away first as both of you pant against each other’s mouths. “I told you I am a great kisser” he heaves with a soft chuckle.

You bite his lower lip gently. “Is that all you can do?” you tease.

“Are you sure?” he smooths your hair away from your face and then cups your cheeks as he lays a soft peck on your lips.

You nod your affirmation and pull him down again in a kiss. His hands grip your sides, gently stroking up and down which makes heat pool within your stomach. His touch sends shivers down your spine. You feel his fingers under your skin as your shirt rides up.

“Stop teasing” you breathe out.

“Patience babygirl” he grins wolfishly, a tiny mischievous glint in his eyes.

He captures your lips in his once again and then moves down to the crook of your neck as he pulls the sensitive skin between his teeth softly. A laugh escapes your lips as his breath tickles. “That’s going to leave a mark” you giggle.

“That’s the point” he kisses the same spot softly. “I fucking love you”

“Show me then” you whisper.

Jeongguk doesn’t hesitate after you give him consent. His hands never rest in one place as they explore every part of your body. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear as he slides in and out of you, tells how beautiful he thinks you are. He doesn’t for one second let you feel uncomfortable and goes at your pace. He listens to you when you tell him what feels good and does exactly that.

“Jeon” you pant heavily as you pull him down towards you.

“You feel so damn good y/n” he pecks you on the lips as he bucks his hips in and out of you. You claw your fingers against his back giving into the rush he makes you feel. He utters a guttural sound at the contact. He continues his movements as he pushes your hair out of your face, cupping your cheek staring you directly in your eyes. “God you have no idea how beautiful you look right now” he whispers between breaths.

“Fuck” you moan as he bends down to capture your lips in his once more-- drinking in all the ecstasy running through your veins.

He’s gentle, even still as he holds you. His caresses, and touches are so soft they leave goosebumps in their wake. The moans and groans that escape past his lips only help you climax harder because you know he’s feeling good. That in itself is enough to make you come undone. When you do, Jeongguk is right there hovering above you, praising you, gently and softly kissing you as you convulse around him. Then he’s chasing his own high and your name softly passes through his lips and he falls limply on top you, kissing the crook of your neck.

He gathers you up in his arms as he rolls on his back. You cuddle against him, wrapping your arm around his torso, resting your face in the crook of his neck, leaving small feather light pecks. He’s so warm against your skin that it starts to make you feel sleepy.

“Goodnight, baby” he whispers against your forehead as he lays a gentle kiss.

Then you drift off to sleep in his arms-- safe, sound, protected, and loved.

> > > > > > >

The next morning the stupid chiming sound of your phone wakes you up. You crack an eye open and reach for it. Jeongguk’s name appears on the screen and your heart immediately starts beating faster. Last night comes to mind and you remember how he touched you, how your name had passed his lips as he had reached his high. You remember how he showed you he loved you. You remember the sweet smell of cinnamon from his skin, and the soft gentle caresses of his fingers against your skin.

You open the text with a smile.

Jeon Jerguk: breakfast is ready 💕

Breakfast?

Curious, you slide to the edge of the bed legs dangling to the floor with the intention of getting up but then you pick your phone and change Jeongguk’s name in your phone to Kookie with a heart beside it. He’s not so much of a jerk anymore.

Then you get up and upon feeling something under your feet, you look to find Jeongguk’s shirt. Your brows furrow. If his shirt is here then what is he wearing?

It turns out he isn't wearing a shirt at all. You gawk stupidly at his back which faces you while he’s making breakfast. You can see the curves of his biceps, the muscles straining in his back as he holds the pan in his hand. The deep line in the middle of his back which stops just above the hem of his jeans. You gulp hard, your fist clenching tighter on the shirt in your hand.

You clear your throat and he turns around. It was a bad idea- a really bad idea because now you can’t stop staring at him even more. It’s funny how abs have been glorified and sexualized so much that they are actually a part of a man’s sexual appeal. Unfortunately you have also fallen into that trap because you just can’t stop staring at that six pack he is sporting

“Y/n” Jeongguk grins noticing where your eyes are lurking.

“Huh?” you blink at him and then throw his shirt at him which hits his face. “Your shirt” you mumble quickly looking away.

“I was kind of hoping you would wear it” a wolffish, playful grin spreads on his mouth. But he takes the shirt and pulls it over his head and then down his torso.

“Uhh… well” you stumble for words avoiding his eyes.

“I am kidding” he starts walking towards you. He cups your cheeks before he’s placing a kiss on your forehead. “Breakfast?” he pulls away with a soft smile.

“You made breakfast?” you stare at him wide eyed, unable to hide your surprise.

“Always with the look of surprise” he says for the thousandth time.

“I just didn’t think…”

“I was hungry” he shrugs, and walks back to the stove.

You’re not surprised. He’s always hungry. There is never a moment when Jeongguk wouldn’t say he’s not hungry.

You take a seat at the island and he comes back with a plate in his hand and he places it in front of you. He leans on the counter on his elbows as he looks at you, making your stomach tighten.

You swallow hard. “French toast?” you again look at him in surprise and yet again he shakes his head.

“You really have to stop being so surprised at everything I do. It’s kind of offensive” he pouts.

“I’ll try my best not to” you take a bite. It’s actually good.

“How is it?” he looks upon you in anticipation.

“Really good” you mumble through a mouthful.

“Yes!” he punches the air

“How many girls have you done this for?” you chuckle.

“I’ll give you an actual reason to be surprised” he purses his lips. “You’re the first”

“You’re telling me-- you-- the captain of the football team, Jeon Jeongguk, have never done this before?” you point to your plate.

“Not just breakfast. Even last night. You’re the first”

“I am what!?” you gawk at him.

“You are the first girl I’ve slept with. Happy?”

He then turns around and gets his own plate, sitting down next to you. You don’t prompt him again regarding the same topic but you do feel special. Then this urge overcomes you and lean towards him and kiss him on the cheek. “You can be cute sometimes Jeon Jeongguk”

His lips spread in a wide grin and he leans in and pecks you on the corner of your mouth. “Happy to return the favor” he turns towards his plate, grabbing his fork and knife.

“So, serious question” you say just as he’s about to take a bite but stops mid-air.

“Anything” his lips tug upwards in a smile.

“What do we do now?”

“We do whatever you want, how ever you want”  he says in a gentle voice

“Okay. I would love to beat around the bush but I think you should know what happened last night, although I don’t regret it-- I just want you to know that I don’t do that. I mean at least not how quickly it happened. I am not like-“

“We’ll jump the base whenever you want to, my love. We’ll do it at your pace. You just tell me what you’re comfortable with and what is a ‘no’ for you. If you ever think I am rushing you just tell me. I don’t want to do this wrong. Especially not with you” the sincerity in his eyes is as clear as day. He’s not looking away, he’s not even blinking. He’s looking straight in your eyes and saying that which forces you to think he’s being honest. If he weren’t his body would have given him away. But he’s firm with his voice and his words.

“Thank you… Kookie” you quickly look away, slightly angling your body away from him out of sheer embarrassment. After all those sweet words, he deserves a sweet name like that doesn’t he?

He’s about to begin eating when a look of realization crosses his face and his hand stops midway to his mouth, toast dropping on the plate. “Wait what did you just call me?” he grabs your arm and spins you so you face him.

“I am just trying it out” you quickly glance at him and then rest your gaze on your lap.

“Wait, say it again” you can hear the smile in his voice. You don’t have to look up to know that he is in fact grinning.

“Kookie” you mumble.

“If I was a girl I would say my heart is going to burst and shit sprinkles all over”

“What?” you chuckle, the laughter bellowing from deep within your chest as it develops into a full bellyache.

“In other words, I love it! Please never call me anything else”

“You’re crazy” you shake your head

“Yeah. But only for you” his smile is so wide his eyes crinkle at the corners.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

You haven’t seen Jeongguk all day long because he’s been busy practicing for the friendly game against the rival college team. Even though it’s supposed to be a pre-season game things tend to get intense when the Douglas Royals visit your college.

One would think it was the final game of the season with all the banners decorating the hall, people dressed in the white and red colours of the football team with face paint on. There was barely anything happening in classes because even the professors understood that people wouldn’t be paying attention.

Your phone buzzes and you open it.

Kookie💙: if you go to my locker you’ll find a present there. I’ll see you this evening. ILY❤️

You make a U-turn from the front of the library and head to the locker room because can you say no to Jeongguk- never. Ever since you’ve been with Jeongguk the sports department has been extra nice about you going to the locker room even if it’s empty.

You skip happily to Jeongguk’s spot and find a black box waiting for you. Your heart starts beating fast in anticipation. As you close in, you realize it’s actually bigger than you thought it would be which makes you even more eager.

Unable to contain your curiosity you open the box and find something you had not been expecting with a small note attached to it.

You know you’re my lucky charm right? Wear this to the game this evening and I promise I’ll win it for you.

Yours, Kookie

>>>>>>>>>

The whole football field and the bleachers surrounding the field fill up thirty minutes before the kickoff. The team hasn’t arrived on the field and it’s only the cheerleaders doing their thing.

The moment you enter the field all eyes fall on you and whispers reach your ear.

“Isn’t that JK’s girlfriend?”

“Never thought they would get together”

“I am so jealous of her” someone whines and it automatically makes your heart swell with pride— everyone wants him but you got him.

There’s more but you tune it out because you find Hoseok waving at you. You skip down the steps and sit down next to him.

“Did the school spirit vomit all over you?” his nose scrunches when he takes in your appearance— wearing the football jersey with Jeongguk’s name and his number ‘9’ decorating your back and the number ‘9’ painted in white on your cheeks.

You clear your throat. “He left it as a present for me”

“He’s fucking whipped” Hoseok shakes his head as takes a sip of his beer.

“You made it happen so blame yourself” you nudge him teasingly.

The game begins and the whole time your eyes only follow Jeongguk. He almost gets knocked over by one of the players on the other team. But thank the heavens that Jimin is on the team because he manages to tackle the guy before Jeongguk gets thrown down. Your heart after that moment doesn’t stop thumping like it’s lost its ability to calm down.

Jeongguk is a great quarterback. He’s so good at it that you feel your chest swelling with pride on the inside every time he’s shown on the jumbotron on the opposite side of the field from you. So this is what it’s like to be his girlfriend.

The game comes to an end without anyone getting injured and your boyfriend makes it back to you in one piece.

“Yay!” he runs towards you after the game ends and you’re waiting for him outside the locker room. “You wore it”

You roll your eyes. “Of course I wore it”

“It looks good on you. Actually on second thought-- you look hot. Can we go home?”

You slap him on the shoulder. “Shut up. Let’s go eat. I’ll buy since you won and since you played so so so well. I am so proud of you”

“I don’t want food. I want you-- the best dessert ever” he winks.

“You’re disgusting Jeon Jeongguk” you shake your head and slap him on the shoulder.

“Fine” he grins as he drapes an arm over your shoulder. “Only because you’re buying, girlfriend” he kisses the side of your head as you both begin walking.

>>>>>>>>

{2 weeks later}

Jeon Jeongguk is a lot of things, but a patient man is not of those things. Eager to announce your exclusive relationship he ended up instead setting more obstacles in your way because now people were doubting your ability to write his profile. You are supposed to release it in 24 hours and still, you have nothing but a blank page staring back at you.

Of course, it doesn’t help that the updated relationship status Jeongguk tagged you in keeps getting more comments. Your phone keeps buzzing again and again and again which only strengthens your resolve to throw it against a wall. You sigh for the millionth time as you bang your head gently against your closed laptop which is sitting in your lap.

Jeongguk turns to look at you, a look of worry crossing his face. The next time you lower your head you end up hitting his hand as it floats mid air between your face and your poor laptop.

You look at him and groan. “Kookie, I am so stressed out”

He abandons his lax posture against the couch and turns to you, folding one leg under the other and then holding both your hands in his. “Remember that time when I was whining about not wanting to be the captain”

You nod.

“What did you tell me?” he asks with a soft smile

“I told you that things that are worth it take effort and time”

“Exactly. You’ve worked so hard on this. I’ve seen you. I was there every time” he opens his arms and you quickly snuggle against him wrapping your arms around his back. He rests his cheek against the top of your head as he tightens his arms around you. “You can do it”

“How do you always know the right thing to say?” you mumble as you play with the fabric of his shirt.

“Because I love you dumdum” he kisses the top of your head.

“Fine” you pull away and reach for your laptop, dragging it towards yourself while Jeongguk’s arm rests behind you on the sofa and he goes back to watching the game.

You take one look at him-- the way the lights cast shadows on his face, the way his brows are knitted together in concentration as he chews his nails. That is when you know exactly what to say.

> > > > > > >

“Y/N!” you hear Hoseok yelling as he runs into the office. “Holy shit, did you see it?” he looks at you with wide eyes-- enough to make it seem like they’ll pop out any second.

“See what?” your brows crinkle in confusion.

“Oh my god, you have to” he quickly opens up your laptop, turns it towards himself and enters the college website. He navigates to the media page where your profile about Jeongguk is posted titled: Jeon Jeongguk: The Story Untold.

“What is it?” you are very concerned because it is either very good or very bad. You hope its the former not because you care about yourself but because it's Jeongguk. You don’t want his story to receive negative comments and that too because of you-- because of someone he loves.

“It’s doing better than Josh’s profile” Hoseok turns the laptop towards you.

Your mouth opens in surprise and Hoseok watches your reaction with anticipation.There are more than thirty-thousand comments which is crazy because there aren’t even that many students in the college.

“It’s spread beyond the college”

“It's what?” you ogle at him stupidly, unable to control your surprise.

“Yeah! People have shared it on social media. The college is making rounds everywhere. Jeon Jeongguk is the talk of the town right now. Because of you!” he laughs excitedly

You blink profusely unable to comprehend what he’s saying because how can that be when twenty four hours ago you were whining to your boyfriend about it? “I- I- I don’t know what to say”

“Honey!” Hoseok yells out of excitement. “You just wrote the best profile the college has seen in a long while. You have outdone yourself. This isn’t the time for talking, this is a time for celebrating!” Hoseok is smiling so bright and wide that you can’t help but smile as well.

“Holy shit” you giggle as you get up from your chair and hug Hoseok.

He spins you around in his arms further making you giggle.

The door flings open with a thud making you and Hoseok break the hug and turn towards the sound.

“Y/n” Jeongguk stands by the door with the widest grin on his face.

With quick long strides, he walks towards you and captures your lips in a kiss, without saying a single word. All he does is kiss you, and kiss you more, and then some more. You both pull away and you find Jeongguk is positively beaming. Your heart swells with happiness upon seeing him happy.

He cups your cheeks, grin still plastered to his face. “Thank you, my baby doll” he pecks you again.

“What’s going on?”

“Look” he takes out his phone and shows it to you.

It’s an email from a scouting agent which states that one of the teams at the state level is interested in meeting with Jeongguk.

“Oh my god Kookie” your mouth remains agape in surprise. “Holy shit”

“It’s all because of your profile. They saw it, called me and said they are interested”

“That’s amazing!”

You laugh as he wraps his arms around you, lifts you and spins you around in his arms. “I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you so freaking much y/n” he mumbles against your shoulder as he spins you round and round until you both start to feel a little dizzy. He gently sets you down and without unlocking his arms around you.

“I am happy for you” you smile.

“I could kiss you all day long. That’s how happy I am and it’s ten times better because you made it happen” his bright expression softens as he looks into your eyes. “Thank you again”

“It’s all you Kookie. You worked hard. I just told people your story” you stand on your toes and lay a gentle kiss on his nose which makes him scrunch it as he softly chuckles.

“You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a very very very long time” he kisses your forehead in return and wraps you in a bear hug.

“And you are the best decision I have ever made” you wrap your arms around him, feeling everything all at once-- just like every time he is around you. You don’t think these fuzzy feelings will ever fade in Jeongguk’s presence even fifty years down the road when you’re both too old to jump in each others arms. You don’t think you’ll love anyone else like you love him.

And he wouldn’t give his heart away the same way to anyone the way he’s given it to you-- absolutely, completely, utterly and hopelessly.

Just as you are busy hugging the life out of each other, Hoseok clears his throat to draw your attention to him.

“Forgetting about me already?” he pouts.

You and Jeongguk pull away and chuckle. You run up to Hoseok and tackle him in a hug because if it wasn’t for him you wouldn’t be with Jeongguk. If he hadn’t pushed you to do the profile you would have missed out on the best thing in your life.

“Alright” Jeongguk interjects and he pulls you and Hoseok away. “That’s enough”

You shake your head at your crazy boyfriend.

As soon as you are out of Hoseok’s embrace, Jeongguk pulls you in a hug by tugging at your arm and wrapping it around his back. You rest your head against the crook of his neck and he rests his cheek against the top of your head and gently sways back and forth.

“Thanks for loving me” he mumbles in that soft gentle voice that always gets to you. Your heart sinks to your stomach.

“Thanks for teaching me how to love you” you tighten your hold around his waist and give a squeeze. Because had it not been for his kindness, his will to work hard, his gentle presence you would never have known the real Jeon Jeongguk. You would have missed out on the best thing in your life. “I love you”

“I love you more” he lays a gentle kiss on the top of your head as he sways you back and forth in his arms.

End

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A/N: Many thank you’s to you if you go to the end. It’s the longest thing I have ever written in my life and it took a lot of hardwork. So please show this fic love by either clicking that heart or reblogging. Thank you so much for reading it! I would love to know your thoughts as always so please do not hesitate to reach out ❤️