#I haven’t watched this in so long this scene haunts me I was never the same after 25th anniversary les mis

[nocentis]

x

[oddinary4bts]

Chasing Cars | ch 7 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: hangover, curses, alcohol, leg day at the gym, jungkook's reputation, a v dangerous game of spin the bottle, explicit content: jungkook's ass, hickeys, oral sex (female and male receiving), praising, fingering, marking, mouth fucking, hair pulling, spitting, degradation, protected sex,

☆word count: 15k (whoops)

☆a/n: more frustration?? and then not. Enjoy <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Saturday, March 2nd

[08:12 am] bröther👽: call me when ure up

You’ve been ignoring the text since you woke up an hour and a half ago. Pretending that you never received it, pretending that Jimin held his promise and didn’t tell anything to Taehyung. 

It’s a foolish dream – the text is proof enough that Taehyung knows, or at least perhaps suspects something about you and Jungkook. You don’t know what to do, what to think, so you ignore it altogether.

Maybe if you ignore it long enough, it’ll disappear.

Maybe if you ignore it long enough, yesterday won’t have happened. 

Jungkook invades your thoughts, his drunken kiss chasing everything else away. Your blood heats up, your cheeks redden, and your heart is beating faster in your chest as you relive the scene, again and again. 

You’ve been reliving it all night long, the ghost of his soft lips on yours haunting you in your sleep. 

You sigh, rolling on your side, hiding your face in your pillow. You’re aware you should get up, but you can’t bring yourself to, too afraid to run into Jungkook. Though you haven’t heard him move from his room, and you assume he’s fighting against his hangover, or maybe he’s still asleep. Another sigh escapes your lips as you turn on your back, looking up to the ceiling. 

Maybe Jungkook was drunk enough to forget about last night. It’d make things easier - maybe then you won’t have to confront him at all. But you know it’s wishful thinking - he was steady enough to kiss you dumb, so you highly doubt he’ll forget.

Especially if the kiss stole the breath from him like it did to you…

You groan, turning to hide your face in a pillow again. Maybe you should disappear, vanish into shadows until you don’t have to talk to your brother or to Jungkook. Or maybe you should just move to another country and start a new life.

You hate this. You wish it’d be easier, simpler, but of course you had to get involved with your brother’s best friend. It feels like the start of a corny teenage drama, the kind of thing you’d once watched with reverence.

Now you know it to be hell. 

Your phone vibrates a couple of times on the mattress where you left it, multiple text messages coming in at the same time. You raise your head from the pillow, trying to catch a glimpse of the screen, but from this angle you can’t see who texted you. Annoyed, you roll until you can grab your phone, and you look down at the screen, squinting your eyes.

Your eyes widen, and your heart stops beating far too long for it to be normal. And then you gulp, rereading the messages to make sure you aren’t imagining anything.

[10:12 am] bröther👽: plz call soon, got some plans tonight [10:12 am] Nabi: do u want to go shopping this afternoon? [10:12 am] JK: sorry about last night. do we have painkillers?

The texts don’t change. In truth, you don’t mind about Taehyung or Nabi. You just didn’t expect Jungkook to text you, especially not to apologize. It makes you think about the kiss, though differently this time. 

Is he really apologetic? Or does he only believe it to be the right thing to do? You can’t tell. But you still get out of bed, going to the bathroom so that you can retrieve painkillers for him. You make a pit-stop by the kitchen to pour him a glass of water, and then you walk to his bedroom. You stop in front of the door, heart suddenly beating out of your chest. 

This is just Jungkook, you try to remind yourself. Nothing to be worried about. Except that he’s your brother’s best friend, and that you fucked, and that you can’t really get him out of your head now…

You take a deep steadying breath, and then you gently rap your knuckles on the door. You wait for a few seconds, awaiting an answer, but none come. 

“Jungkook?” you let out.

A long groan replies, and you can’t stop the smile that grows on your lips.

“Can I come in?”

Another groan answers, though this time Jungkook eventually says, “Yes.”

So you turn the doorknob, pushing the door open. Jungkook’s room is neater than you’d expected it to be - a few scattered items of clothing lay on the floor, and the dark monitor of his PC setup faces you. You scan the rest of the room, your cheeks turning bright red when you notice Jungkook.

Mostly, you notice Jungkook’s ass, as he’s lying on his belly, naked, over the covers. 

“Put some damn clothes on,” you blurt, looking away from him.

He groans. “Don’t speak so loud, shit.” A few seconds of silence, and then he adds, “Besides, you’ve seen me naked before.”

“You have no shame,” you grumble, but you still step into his room. “I got you painkillers.”

“Why have shame when you’ve got a body like mine?” he teases, raising his head. A boyish smile sports his lips, though he quickly lets his head fall back down, grunting. “Thanks for the painkillers.”

To your relief, he pulls a blanket over him as he turns, hiding the lower half of his body. He sits up, wincing, and you hand the water and the pills to him. He looks at them like they’re foreign, before patting the bed next to him.

“Don’t be shy,” he says, leaning back against his headboard. The one you’ve heard banging in your wall way too many times. “I don’t bite.”

You roll your eyes. “Just take the damn pills.”

He pouts, lower lip jutting out, and you ignore the way it makes your heart race in your chest. He finally grabs the painkillers, and you blush as your fingers brush, electricity jolting through you.

How can he have such an effect on you?

“Thank you,” Jungkook lets out once he’s taken the white pills and downed the water.

You nod. “I’ll let you sleep it off, now.”

“Is my room so not inviting?” he teases as you’re walking out. 

You turn around, leaning against the door frame, arms folded on your chest. “We can’t do this.”

“We can be friends,” he says, features serious as he holds your gaze. Though you struggle to keep your eyes on his - his strong body invites the gaze, and you seek to explore the planes of his body.

He must have noticed it because he breaks into a smirk

“Friends wear clothes around each other,” you reply.

He rolls his eyes, sighing deeply. “Is my body that bad?”

“Do you really need the compliment that bad?”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “So you admit it would be a compliment?”

You shut your eyes in annoyance. “You’re insufferable, Jungkook.”

When your eyes flutter open to that same boyish grin on his lips, you feel yourself folding. You tell him you’ll just get your phone in your room, and then you walk back to his bedroom, hesitantly crossing the threshold. He’s already lying down again, and he’s thankfully pulled the blanket higher over his body.

You sit on the side of his bed, clutching your phone in your hands as if it’s a lifeline. Jungkook’s gaze is heavy on your profile, and you glance at him.

“Don’t worry about yesterday,” you tell him, meeting his gaze.

Big eyes welcome you in, and you feel entranced. You wonder if he feels the same - if your gaze is prison to his eyes as well.

“Are you sure?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

You shrug. “I kissed you back, didn’t I?”

“You did.” He slowly breaks into a smirk. “You seemed to enjoy it quite a lot.”

“Oh my God,” you let out, making to get up and leave. Jungkook is quick - he grabs your wrist, stopping your motion.

“I’m just teasing you, peach.”

“You can’t tease me like that,” you scold him. “We can’t do that.”

He lets go of your wrist, almost reluctantly. His fingers twitch as they fall on his bed between the two of you. “Sorry,” he apologizes, and you’re surprised at how genuine he sounds.

You nod once. “No worries.”

Eyes locked on his, you both fall silent. You feel like you’re falling forward, like Jungkook really is the sun pulling in the comet that you are. You wonder if he reads everything in your eyes - if he knows that the moment you fucked for the first time, you were gone.

You hate that you are. You feel weak, but how can you resist?

The sound of ringing startles you, cutting through the tension in the room. You look down at your phone in your hands, and your heart drops to your ass at the picture of Taehyung looking back at you.

And maybe you’re hungover too, or perhaps still drunk. Because you don’t think about it - you answer the Facetime call, and you smile a tight-lipped smile as you wait for it to connect.

“Hey loser,” Taehyung greets you when you appear.

The moment his eyes narrow, eyebrows bunching together, you realize your mistake. Somehow, you take it in stride, immediately crafting a lie out of thin air.

Or maybe half a lie.

“Your loser of a best friend got so drunk he needed me to give him painkillers,” you offer as an explanation, and you turn the camera towards Jungkook, who gives a thumbs up, face hidden in his mattress.

“Sounds on brand,” Taehyung replies, features relaxing. “Tough party yesterday?”

“He hosted your friends over here,” you explain, surveying Taehyung through the screen. “He and Jimin got pissed out drunk.”

“Hey, I wasn’t that drunk,” Jungkook interjects, faking offence.

“Shut the fuck up, JK,” Taehyung says, and you really try to read his features. 

Has Jimin told him anything after all?

“What are your plans tonight?” you ask your brother, trying to stir the conversation away from yesterday.

Taehyung smiles. “Date night with this girl,” he says, and he turns the camera towards a pretty girl that you recognize from the Instagram Jungkook showed you. 

“Tae!” she shrieks, and she turns away from the camera.

“She’s shy,” Taehyung says, chuckling. “But we’re going to go eat at a restaurant near the Eiffel Tower.”

“Romantic,” you chime.

His smile grows wider, and you see it in his eyes. You see the light overtaking them, the fond softness that makes him look so young and vulnerable. “Always.” 

There’s a shared silence, interrupted by the shuffling of Jungkook behind you. You look over your shoulder to find him sitting again, and you can’t stop your eyes from dipping down.

You hate that the sheet has slipped. Because you see his semi for half a second before he’s able to hide himself again. If he noticed, Jungkook doesn’t let it show, instead saying into your phone, “Partying without you isn’t the same, bro.”

“We’ll party when you get here,” Taehyung promises. “The French know how to party.”

You stare at Jungkook’s reflection on the screen of your phone, at the smirk that grows on his lips. “Oh, we’ll have catching up to do, I’m sure.”

“Think I can still beat you at beer pong?” Taehyung asks, grinning at his friend.

“Good luck with that,” Jungkook replies. “I’ve been perfecting my form.”

Taehyung bursts out laughing, and Jungkook chuckles behind you. It’s a cute sound - the one he reserves for his close friends. You like the sound, like that he’s comfortable enough around you to let you hear it.

The two friends keep on talking, Jungkook seemingly healed from his hungover as he goes on and on about stuff that happened yesterday. He avoids everything related to you, but he speaks about Lisa, far more than you expected he would. 

So you gulp, listening to him praise the girl, listening to Taehyung asking when he’ll fuck her. It does something ugly to you, and your features fall, though the two men seem to be too focused on their conversation to notice.

Until Jungkook’s gaze dances on your features, and he says, “Sorry, I hi-jacked the conversation.”

You shrug. “Don’t worry about it.”

Yet he slightly furrows his brow, concern seeping into his gaze. It stays for the rest of the conversation, as Taehyung’s girlfriend - Ariane - finally joins in. They look happy, and for a moment, jealousy steals your heart. You’re good at hiding it though, far better than you hide your disappointment from Jungkook speaking about Lisa, and soon enough the conversation reaches its natural end, Ariane and Taehyung needing to head to their reservation.

You tell them goodbye, Jungkook waving at them over your shoulder. The moment the call disconnects, Jungkook says, “You know I don’t care about Lisa.”

You glance at him. “Okay?”

“I’m just trying to make sure he’s not unto us…” he sheepishly adds. “Jimin texted some shit in the group chat last night.”

Your throat goes dry. “He did?”

Jungkook’s tongue darts to toy with his piercings, and he nods once. “Yeah.”

You wait for him to say more, but he only looks at you, features unreadable. “What did he say?” you ask after a few seconds of holding his gaze.

“That you and I are pretty friendly,” he admits. “With a lot of emojis.”

You shut your eyes. “Tae is going to kill me.”

“I wouldn’t be worried about you,” Jungkook reassures you, chuckling lightly. “If he kills someone, I guarantee it will be me.”

“Fuck.”

He nods, then shrugs his shoulders. “It’s not like we can do anything about it.” He holds your gaze for a few more seconds, before glancing outside. “Anyways, I think I’ll head to the gym.”

You tilt your head to the side, a small, disbelieved laugh escaping your mouth. “Aren’t you hungover?”

“Working out helps with headaches,” Jungkook explains. “At least for me.”

Unconvinced, you nod once, and then you get up from where you were sitting on his bed. You cast another glance around his room - your eyes still on a frame with two young boys in Disney World, smiling brightly. You recognize Jungkook in the youngest one, and something about the fact he keeps a picture of him when he was younger on his bedside table is far too endearing.

“You have a brother?” you ask.

His eyes trail to the pictures. “Yeah, Junghyun.”

“I’ve never heard about him before.”

He smiles, winking at you. “You never asked.”

You roll your eyes, though a smile curves your lips upwards as well. “Alright then, I’ll let you go to the gym.”

“Want to come with?” Jungkook asks.

You widen your gaze. “I don’t really go to the gym.”

Jungkook slips out of bed, keeping his sheet around his waist. The muscles on his abdomen move under his skin, and you can’t help but glance down, remembering his semi-erection earlier. You flush entirely red, and Jungkook laughs, clearly knowing where your mind went.

“Never too late to start, peach,” he teases. “I can help you.”

“I’m supposed to go shopping with Nabi this afternoon,” you say, though you haven’t accepted your friend’s invitation yet.

“You don’t need more clothes,” Jungkook says, heading towards a drawer. You watch as he rummages through it, before pulling a pair of black Calvin Klein underwear from it. “You’ve got plenty enough already.”

“And?” you let out. “Girls go shopping for more than clothes, Jungkook.”

He winks at you, before turning his back to you. The sheet drops to the floor, and you immediately look away as he puts his underwear on, facing you again when he’s finally hidden himself from you.

“Please?”

“Please what?” you ask.

“Please come with me?”

There’s a light in his eyes. Something hopeful, vulnerable, and it takes you aback. So much so that you almost take a step back. Your heart goes wild in your chest again, and you hold his gaze.

What would have happened between you and Jeon Jungkook if he wasn’t your brother’s best friend?

“Why do you want me to come?” you ask, sounding a little breathless.

“You’re fun to be around,” Jungkook offers as an explanation, shrugging. “And I prefer working out with people.”

“Can’t you invite Jimin or someone else?”

Jungkook pouts. “Jimin’s hangovers are a lot worse than mine. He won’t want to go out.”

You sigh, holding Jungkook’s gaze as you ponder if you should go or not. If it’s a good idea to spend friendly time with Jungkook after everything that’s happened. But you don’t seem to be able to escape his orbit. Not when his gravity is so strong, his eyes so open.

“Alright,” you say. “But don’t expect me to lift heavy.”

*****

You meet Jungkook in the hall after you’ve both eaten a small breakfast - nothing too heavy before the gym, as Jungkook said. He offers you a friendly smile, and then he looks down your frame, the smile melting into a smirk that makes your blood eat up in your veins.

“You look hot, peach.”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “You’ve never seen a girl in sports leggings before?” you ask as you make your way to the closet so that you can pull your coat out.

Jungkook is already wearing his, and he watches you as you put your coat on, stuffing your phone in the pocket before zipping it up.

“None that look as good as you,” he flirts.

“Shut up,” you grumble, slightly shaking your head. 

“What! It’s true,” he insists, and you push him towards the door so that he moves away from your boots. 

You put them on, before grabbing a pair of sneakers from the closet as well. Once you straighten, Jungkook grabs the shoes from you, stuffing them in his gym bag as you go to retrieve your purse from where you left it in the kitchen, cursing yourself for not grabbing it before putting your boots on.

You meet Jungkook in the hall again, and he leads you outside, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Careful, it’s pretty icy.”

You nod, and you hold onto the railing of the staircase, following behind Jungkook after you’ve locked the door. You successfully make it to the bottom, and then he guides you to his car. As you climb in the passenger seat, Jungkook throws his gym bag on the backseat, before walking around the car to sit behind the wheel.

As he turns the key in the engine, you pull your phone out of your pocket. You go to Nabi’s conversation, feeling bad that you will have to decline her invitation.

[11:09 am] You: can’t, going to the gym

Jungkook pulls out in the street, and then he’s driving towards his gym, turning the music on. He hums to the radio, seemingly fully at ease. You don’t know how he does it - your heart is racing in your chest at the perspective of going to the gym with him. 

[11:11 am] Nabi: the fuck [11:12 am] Nabi: who are you going with

You debate telling her the truth for the whole ride to the gym, and some more as you walk in. Jungkook hands you your sneakers as you stop in the place where you have to take your boots off, and then he offers to keep your coat and purse in a locker with his stuff. You accept, though you ask to buy a water bottle for yourself first.

“I got you covered, peach,” Jungkook says, flicking your nose. “I brought a reusable one for you.”

“How kind,” you tease, and he grins boyishly before heading into the men’s locker room. 

You wait for him outside, eyes on the conversation with Nabi. You wonder what she would say if she knew - would she tease you about the Incident? Would she freak out like you know Ria would?

You say to hell with it, and you reply to her last text with the truth before turning the screen off, looking up to watch Jungkook as he walks out of the locker room, now clad in athletic shorts and a skintight black t-shirt that leaves little to the imagination. 

“Ready?” Jungkook asks, and he hands you the water bottle he mentioned. 

It’s already full, and you take a small sip before nodding your head. “What do we start with?”

Jungkook smiles softly for a few seconds, and then his features grow conflicted. He looks away from you, his Adam’s apple bobbing once as he swallows. You’d give a lot to know what he’s thinking of right now, though life doesn’t work that way.

And would you be able to handle the truth anyway?

“We warm up with cardio, and then it’s leg day,” he tells you as he motions towards the corner with all the cardio machines. “Let’s see how much you can squat, peach.”

You snort as you follow him. “Are you just trying to get a good look at my ass?”

You’re relieved when he bites, offering you his usual cocky smirk. “So what if I am?”

“You’re disgusting,” you say, though you laugh with him as you reach the treadmills. “By the way,” you let out as you both climb on a treadmill, turning them on. “I’m hosting some friends at the apartment tonight. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh are you now?” Jungkook teases. “And you were mad at me for it yesterday?”

You glare at him, right as he helps you with increasing the speed of the treadmill. “I got it,” you say, swatting his hand away. “This is not my first time at the gym.” You pause, adjusting the walking speed and the inclination of the treadmill to your preferred setting, and then you turn to look at Jungkook again. “I wasn’t mad at you for hosting friends, I was mad because you didn’t warn me.”

“To be fair, it wasn’t planned in advance,” Jungkook reveals. “Jimin cornered me at the library while I was finishing my shift with Sera and they looked way too excited. I suggested our place because they’re always the ones hosting us.”

You’re not surprised Jungkook would offer - he’s a good friend to those he cares about. 

“Makes sense,” you let out. “So I’m telling you about tonight in advance, see?”

“It’s tonight,” he says, cocking an eyebrow.

“And?”

“I’d hardly call it in advance.”

You sigh, looking up to the ceiling. “Whatever.”

“Hope your friends don’t mind me around,” Jungkook says after a whole minute of silence.

You shoot him a surprised look. “Don’t you have plans tonight?”

“Yeah, your party.”

“It’s not a party.”

He shrugs. “I’ll be there nonetheless.”

The thought of Jungkook staying when your friends will be there makes you anxious, and you quickly shake your head no. “You can’t.”

He frowns. “Why not? It’s my apartment too.”

“I don’t…” you trail off, thinking of Ria and her obsession with him.

You know her enough to know she’d jump on the occasion to seduce Jungkook. If she knew what happened between the two of you, she wouldn’t approach him at all - but she doesn’t know.

None of them do, except Hoseok, and even then he doesn’t really know.

“I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour,” Jungkook says, winking, and then he increases the speed of his treadmill to a run that doesn’t allow a conversation at the same time.

You follow suit, just so that you can blame the hammering of your heart in your chest on something else than the fear of what is going to happen tonight. You’d hoped Jungkook had something planned - anything, really - but maybe that had been wishful thinking.

Maybe you should have told him well in advance, asking him to clear the apartment tonight. But he’s been nice, if you forget about the fact he kissed you stupid last night. You don’t have it in you to push him away when he’s acting so… nicely. 

And he keeps acting that way all through the gym. Even though you’re not nearly as strong as him, Jungkook encourages you, helps you with every exercise. You do notice him ogling your ass while you’re squatting, but you do the same to him, and he calls it even as you roll your eyes, blushing furiously. 

It’s fun. It always is – spending time with Jungkook, that is. His easy laugh and smile keep the conversation alive, alight, and you don’t notice the time fly when Jungkook guides you to the mats, where he claims you’ll do some planks and then stretch.

You plop down on the mat, legs feeling like jelly, and Jungkook’s giggle fills your ear, warming your chest. You glance at him, catching him as he smiles down at you.

“We went easy,” he teases, sitting next to you. “You’re adorable.”

“You call that easy?” you let out in fake outrage. “I won’t be able to walk for a week.”

“Oh, won’t you now?” 

You roll your eyes at the innuendo in his voice. “Shut up.”

He grins, patting his pockets. As a frown moves on his features, you push yourself up, sitting.

“Is there something wrong?” you ask.

“I think I left my phone at the squat rack,” Jungkook answers. “Wait here, I’ll go see if it’s still there.”

You don’t have time to say anything before he’s jogging away, and you follow him with your gaze as he makes his way to the squat rack you used earlier. He doesn’t find his phone there – he shoots a look in your direction, and then he’s heading to the reception, to likely ask if someone brought his phone there.

You sigh before grabbing your own phone. You’re about to turn it back on when someone clears their throat, and you look up, eyes slightly widened in surprise.

“Hey,” a buff guy says. “You’re with JK?”

It takes you an awkward four seconds before you reply, “Yeah?”

The guy smiles, nodding once. “Thought so. I just wanted to warn you, that guy is a dick.”

“Excuse me?”

You can’t help it – the offence that takes over you at someone insulting Jungkook burns like acid in your mouth, and you frown as you look up at the buff guy. He raises his hands in defence, but you just keep on staring him down.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you.” The guy’s hands fall at his side, clenching into fists once before he releases it. “We used to be friends, until my ex cheated on me with him,” he offers as an explanation. “I’d hate to see him hurt someone else.”

Though you do feel bad for the guy, you’re still offended – does he believe Jungkook is out to hurt you?

Is Jungkook out to hurt you?

“Listen, don’t worry about me,” you eventually say, not wanting to fight with someone that looks like they could kill you with one well-placed punch. “We’re just friends.”

The guy’s features relax, and his smile feels more genuine now. “Good, I’m glad.” He doesn’t move for a few seconds, and then he catches sight of Jungkook jogging back towards you. You meet Jungkook’s gaze at the same time as the guy says, “I’ll leave you two to it, then.”

You don’t say anything, and Jungkook stops next to you, barely winded from jogging around. He drops on the mat next to you, phone in hand.

“What did Colton want with you?” he asks.

You shrug your shoulders. “Nothing, really. He was just wondering if we were together.”

“Together?” Jungkook repeats, teasing tone in employ.

You cock an eyebrow. “Not like that, dumbass.”

He pouts, though he doesn’t say anything else. And when you look at him like this, you can’t believe he’d cheat on one of his friends. He’s always seemed like a good friend – hell, an hour ago you’d thought him to be a good friend to those he cares about. Which means he probably never cared about the guy – Colton.

But isn’t there something ugly in the act of cheating with someone that’s in a relationship? 

“So we’re doing three minutes of planks,” Jungkook tells you. 

“Three?!” you shriek.

He chuckles. “One minute of regular plank, and then one minute on each side.”

“Bruh.”

“You can do it, peach.”

He gets into position, and you reluctantly imitate him, mind still swirling with what he’s done. At the beginning of the semester, you wouldn’t have been surprised by that fact, yet now it feels odd, strange, even a little disturbing. As if for a moment you forgot how much of an arrogant asshole Jungkook can be, as if you forgot the reputation that follows him.

You wouldn’t be surprised if he’s broken up other couples than this Colton and his ex.

If Jungkook notices your unease, he doesn’t mention it. He does his planks like a champ, while you’re shaking for your life next to him, and then he shows you his stretching routine. You copy everything, and then you follow him back to the man’s locker room, waiting outside for him to change back into his clothes. 

Colton goes into the locker room before Jungkook comes out, and he nods to you as he passes in front of you. You offer him a tight-lipped smile, and then watch him disappear at the bend in the hall. Jungkook gets out a couple of minutes later, as you’re turning on your phone again.

At the sight of the frown on his features, and the light red tint on his cheeks, you can only assume that he and Colton had a talk.

“Something wrong?” you ask him.

“No.” His answer is curt, almost cold, and you widen your gaze slightly as he hands you your stuff.

He barely waits for you to put your coat on before he’s walking to where you can grab your boots, and you awkwardly jog behind him, thighs burning, almost afraid he’s going to leave without you.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” you insist as you kick off your shoes, putting your boots on.

“Honestly peach,” Jungkook says. “Just drop it.”

It’s your turn to frown. “Did Colton speak to you?”

His silence is answer enough.

“Fuck that dude, Jungkook,” you try to reassure him, but it doesn’t look like it works.

Maybe because you’ve changed since Colton spoke to you, thoughts of Jungkook being a cheater haunting you.

“Just put your boots on,” Jungkook dismisses you, and anger starts welling in your chest.

You don’t say anything until you’re out of the gym, Jungkook’s car just a couple of meters away.

“You don’t have to act like a dick with me, you know?” you tell him.

Jungkook spins around to face you, and you almost bump into him. You catch yourself at the last second, and you look up to meet Jungkook’s dark gaze. Even in the light of the day, shadows are hiding behind his pupils. It makes him look raw – like he’s been chased by demons of his own, thoughts haunting him in ways you can’t understand.

“I’m not being a dick with you, peach,” he drawls. “We’re just friends, and I don’t feel like talking.”

Oh.

“Are you upset because I told him that we’re just friends?”

“I’m upset because that fucker told you stuff I’d rather you not know,” Jungkook answers, voice slowly rising as he fails to put his anger in check.

You furrow your brows. “Everyone knows your reputation, Jungkook.”

He recoils. He physically recoils, taking a step back as if you’ve just punched him in the face. You feel bad – you feel infinitely bad, as his gaze grows pained for a few seconds before the anger hides it away again.

“Right.” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Why do you want to be my friend, then?”

“Because people are going to say shit,” you answer, shrugging your shoulders. “Everyone makes mistakes.”

He laughs, but it’s so cold, devoid of any warmth he’s offered to you recently. “Before you start believing some shit, I was fucking the girl before Colton got in a relationship with her. I told him she wasn’t trustworthy, and we fucked at a party again after she told me she dumped him.”

“You don’t need to tell me this.”

“Oh, but I do.” Jungkook chuckles bitterly. “Colton’s always been jealous of me, and when I told him what happened he just got mad, and refused to listen to me.”

You get why – whoever that girl was, Colton probably had feelings for her. And it sucks to see someone you like getting it on with one of your friends.

Jungkook’s gaze moves from yours to the door of the gym, and you look behind you to see Colton walking out. He notices the two of you, and you think you see him rolling his eyes in the distance.

“Let’s go home,” you tell Jungkook, walking around him to reach his car. 

Jungkook doesn’t move for a few seconds, but then he does, unlocking the doors as he makes his way to the driver’s side. You get in, and the engine purrs to life as Jungkook turns the key in the ignition.

There are a few seconds of silence as he adjusts the warmth, and then he looks at you.

“I wouldn’t have slept with her if they were still together,” he says.

His big eyes hold so much innocence that you immediately believe him. You don’t know if you should, if you’ve just been ensnared, the prey to the spider, but you’re in too deep him.

You’re already in too fucking deep.

“I know, Jungkook,” you reassure him. “Don’t let this dude get to your head.”

You see his Adam’s apple bobbing once, and then he nods and faces forward, getting ready to drive. You can’t divert your gaze from his profile, and you find yourself gulping.

You really are in too deep.

*****

Turns out that letting Jungkook stay for your get-together was a good idea. Indeed, he’s cooked noodles for everyone, and your friends have been eating, praising Jungkook for his skills. He only shrugged his shoulders, as if to say it’s nothing, but you know he likes the praise.

It shows in the way his eyes swim with stars, so far from the shadows that invaded his gaze earlier at the gym. 

And you’ve been trying not to think about it too much. Not to think that whenever Ria looks in his direction, you feel something ugly twisting in your chest. So far, Jungkook hasn’t given her any attention, but you know her – she doesn’t stop until she gets what she wants.

Tonight, what she wants is Jeon Jungkook. 

You’re not the only one who’s been monitoring the two – Seokjin, with his quiet and calm presence, has been looking at your friend ever since everyone got to your apartment. You think you see his disappointment as Ria barely speaks to him, though you don’t know him well enough to tell.

Jungkook turns out to be a good barman as well. He takes everyone’s order when you finish eating, and then he heads to the kitchen to make every drink. Ria follows him, and you clench your jaw, though Hoseok immediately follows as well, offering you a wink.

You’re lucky you have him. Otherwise, tonight would surely go to shit real quick.

“Didn’t know your roommate was so chill,” Yoongi says from where he’s sitting on the couch. 

You’re currently sitting on the floor next to Nabi, with Namjoon on the other side of her. They’ve been conversing just them two for a while, but Yoongi’s statement attracts their attention.

“I mean, with the reputation that he has…” Namjoon trails off.

You cock an eyebrow, indignant. “What’s wrong with his reputation?”

Nabi turns to you, eyes going wide, while Seokjin’s lips spread into a small smile. Yoongi snorts, though you keep the eyebrow cocked, meeting Namjoon’s gaze.

“I mean, isn’t he the guy that’s fucked most of the campus?” Namjoon asks, sounding far too innocent.

“What’s wrong with it?” you challenge. “Wouldn’t you fuck the whole campus if you could?”

Namjoon looks scared now. His gaze falls to Nabi, who shrugs and meets your eyes again. “Why are you so pressed?” she asks, though her lips spread into a smile. “Is it because of the Incident?”

You roll your eyes, though a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “It’s not.”

“The Incident?” Yoongi chimes in.

You send a warning glare towards Nabi, before saying, “Nothing.”

“What’s nothing?” Jungkook’s familiar voice says as he walks back from the kitchen.

He’s holding two gin and tonics, and he offers the first one to you, before handing the other to Seokjin. Everyone stays suspiciously silent as Jungkook walks back to where you’re sitting, before plopping down on the floor next to you.

Nabi loses it. She bursts out laughing, and your cheeks burn as you punch her in the shoulder.

“Ow!” she shrieks.

Hoseok and Ria walk out of the kitchen then. Hoseok has two beers – one for himself and one for Namjoon – while Ria carries a cranberry vodka for herself and a whiskey on ice for Yoongi. You see the slight frown on her face as she notices Jungkook next to you. It’s only there for a fraction of a second, and then her gaze slides to you, an eyebrow cocking.

When a small, knowing smirk grows on her lips, you feel like disappearing through the floor.

After that, conversations start around you once more, as Ria sits on the couch between Yoongi and Seokjin, and Hoseok sits in front of you, on the other side of the coffee table. Jungkook leans closer to you, trying to catch your gaze, and you turn your head towards him.

“What?” you ask.

“Do you like your drink?”

He’s cute like this. Big eyes awaiting your answer as if it’s the most important thing he’ll hear all night, tongue toying with his piercings anxiously. The glint in his eyes resembles a star, and for a moment you bask in its glow.

Until you snap back to reality when he slowly frowns.

“Is it bad?” he asks.

“No!” you quickly say. “Not at all. I like it.” You make a show of taking a big sip, and though it’s stronger than your usual, you still offer him a small nod. “See, it’s delicious.”

His lips curve upwards. “Good.”

You smile softly, your eyes falling to his empty hands in his lap. The tattoos on the back of his right hand are stark on his skin, and your eyes slowly trail up his arm up to where the ink disappears in the sleeve of his oversized white t-shirt. He’s smirking by the time you meet his gaze again, and you gulp, eyes falling to your drink as if searching for a safe haven.

“You’re not drinking?” you ask.

“Never two nights in a row,” he replies.

You don’t buy his act at all, as you’ve seen him drinking more than two days in a row a lot of times already.

“Bullshit,” you call him out.

He narrows his gaze. “What do you mean, bullshit?”

“You drink all the time,” you state.

Though as you say it you remember the parties when you’ve seen him as the designated driver. It makes you furrow your brows, right as he says, “I’ve been trying to drink less. Besides, I work tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you let out.

He’s about to say something else when Hoseok, beaming with mischief, says, “Should we play Truth or Dare?”

A chorus of yes and nos answers, until Nabi says. “We should just play Spin the Bottle. Truth or Dare is for kids.”

“Hey, Truth or Dare is fun,” Hoseok says, pouting, his eyebrows almost touching over his eyes.

Nabi winks at him, especially as her suggestion ends up winning, and Yoongi and Hoseok clear the coffee table and move it to the side so that you can all sit in a big circle on the floor.

“Younger should spin first!” Ria suggests, knowing fully well that she is the youngest. 

You all agree, and she reaches for Namjoon’s empty beer bottle that was put on the floor between you all. She grabs it by the body, then looks at everyone, gaze shining with amusement. 

“Who wants to kiss me?” she teases.

You wonder if you’re the only one who notices Seokjin’s cheek turning pink as Nabi bursts, “Me!”

As everyone laughs, and Seokjin catches up with a small chuckle, Ria finally spins the bottle. You watch as it spins once, twice, thrice, slowing down on the fourth spin until it fully comes to a stop, facing Hoseok. 

“Well, I guess it’ll be you, Hoba,” Ria says, shrugging her shoulders, and then she kneels so that she can reach Hoseok across the circle.

He grabs her by the cheeks, and he lands a big peck on her slightly parted lips. Both of them didn’t close their eyes for the kiss, and they start laughing awkwardly as Ria sits back.

Yoongi’s cool smile tells you everything you need to know, and you hold in the knowing smirk that wants to split across your features.

Hoseok spins the bottle, and it turns for longer than it did with Ria. It stops on Seokjin, who lets out a startled sound as Hoseok turns towards him, grabbing his cheeks.

“Come here, Jinnie!” Hoseok exclaims.

Seokjin lets out a disgruntled sound, which quickly turns disgusted as Hoseok kisses him, with a lot more lips than he did with Ria. It earns a lot of laughs, especially as Seokjin repeatedly wipes his mouth, using the sleeve of his shirt as a napkin.

“Why was that so wet?” he complains, but ever so the good player, he still spins the bottle.

It turns and turns, a never-ending dance until friction finally slows it down.

You purse your lips when it lands on you, and you look up to meet Seokjin’s gaze. 

“Well, well, well,” you let out.

“I’d much rather kiss you than him,” Seokjin grumbles as he leans across the space.

“What do you mean, he’s a good kisser,” you tease, and Hoseok beams as Ria and Nabi let out a prolonged “Ew!” at the reference to the fact that you and Hoseok used to sleep together.

Though they don’t know that you’ve stopped, and that Hoseok is dating Yoongi now. Not that you’ll be the one to tell them.

You lean forward, meeting Seokjin in the space over the bottle. Right before your lips press on his plump ones, you turn towards Ria. To your surprise, she isn’t looking at you – her eyes are on Jungkook, and the knowing smile from earlier comes back in full force.

It’s too late for you to look behind you, and your eyes flutter shut as Seokjin’s lips find yours. They are soft, warm, and his kiss is gentle, as if he doesn’t want to scare you away. If it wasn’t for the fact that Jungkook is here, you think you’d indulge, but you immediately pull away, sitting back next to your brother’s best friend.

Next to the man with whom you’ve been pretending you haven’t fucked like animals just a few weeks ago.

Unable to resist, you glance at him. He is frowning, though he quickly hides behind an easy smile. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and for a moment you want to scream at him that he’s stupid, that he shouldn’t care, that you need to pretend… but you resist.

Not because you’re surrounded by your friends, no. Because you want him to want you – you want to be the moon he chases at night, and you don’t know what to make of it.

You look away from him, reaching in the middle of the circle to the glass bottle awaiting your spin. Seokjin nods encouragingly, and you spin the bottle…

Only to have it end on Seokjin again.

“Bruh,” Nabi lets out. “I want to kiss people too.”

This time, you don’t miss the muscle ticking in Ria’s eyebrows. So you offer her a wink as you lean towards Seokjin, who meets you with a smile on his lips.

You make to pull away again, but Seokjin grabs your cheeks, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss. Your body immediately reacts – heart racing in your chest, blood pumping in your ears. Your friends cheer as Seokjin’s tongue teases your bottom lip, and then he lets you go, sitting back in his spot while you stay still for a few seconds, eyes fluttering open to meet his.

He’s not looking at you. Instead, his eyes are on Ria, who’s looking down at her drink.

So he’s trying to make her jealous… You slowly nod your head, before sitting back in your spot. Jungkook shifts next to you, and his knee brushes against the side of your thigh.

You shoot him a look, and he offers you a tight-lipped smile, before settling his attention on Seokjin as he spins the bottle again. This time, it lands on Yoongi, and they exchange a small peck, though Seokjin fake-gags through it all. 

“What’s wrong with kissing the homies?” Hoseok teases him, elbowing him in the ribs.

“Nothing,” Seokjin grumbles. “I love you guys, but I’d rather not kiss my friends.”

“You seemed to like kissing Y/n, though,” Ria says, an innocent look on her face that you know she’s faking.

You snort, hiding it behind a long sip of your drink, as everyone watches Seokjin as he looks at Ria, gaze wide, trying to find something to say but clearly coming up short with ideas. 

Silence stretches, growing awkward, until Seokjin says, “I’d kiss you like that too.”

Both Nabi and Hoseok let out a long “Oh!” though Nabi immediately follows hers with, “Then kiss her.”

Seokjin flushes fully red, and Ria grins, cocking her head to the side. 

“I’m game unless you’re too shy,” she says, voice a little sultry.

Seokjin seems afraid now. He looks around the group, as if searching for salvation, but everyone is just looking on with expectation lighting up their gazes.

“Well…” Seokjin lets out, and he gulps. “Hopefully we’ll spin the bottle on each other.”

“Come on, bro,” Jungkook interjects. “Don’t tell me you need that to kiss her?”

Before Seokjin has time to say anything else, Ria grabs his face from where she’s sitting next to him, and she pulls him into a languid kiss that, despite his shy demeanour, he reciprocates right away. People cheer, and you smile widely, your eyes turning to Jungkook amidst the chaos ensuing. 

He’s already looking at you. His eyes dip down to your lips as if he’s considering kissing you right then and there as well, but he glances away, sucking on his piercings. Though the interaction might have passed as nothing to an outside gaze, you feel your blood boiling in your veins, far more than when Seokjin kissed you earlier.

Because no one other than Jungkook can have that effect on you.

When Ria and Seokjin finally pull away, Yoongi hesitantly reaches for the bottle, making a joke that everyone laughs at except you, as you’re still reeling from the way Jungkook looked at you. The bottle spins, and it stops on Nabi, who beams.

“Finally,” she jokes.

The peck she exchanges with Yoongi is cold, that of two friends more than anything, and then Nabi is spinning the bottle as well.

You don’t miss the way her gaze slides sideways to Namjoon. You also don’t miss the way Namjoon slightly leans into her – what you do miss is the bottle as it stops.

Pointing towards Jungkook.

“Oh,” Nabi lets out, and she turns red.

Jungkook, suddenly the picture-perfect arrogant asshole that you know him to be, says, “Don’t sound too disappointed, I’ve been told I’m a good kisser.”

Nabi chuckles awkwardly, and she meets Namjoon’s gaze. He motions towards Jungkook with his beer, as if to encourage her, and she nods once before leaning towards Jungkook.

They kiss right in front of you, and you feel the blood leaving your face as Jungkook has the nerve to tease her mouth with his tongue. As she has the nerve to let him in, their tongues meeting for a few seconds before Jungkook pulls away. He winks at her, smiling triumphantly, and she sits back, face so red she’d put a tomato to shame.

Jungkook slides his gaze to you, winking at you next, before leaning towards you. And though he has to be aware that everyone is carefully watching you, he says in your ear, “Had to make you jealous too.”

Yep. The arrogant asshole.

You push him, rolling your eyes. “Fuck off,” you grumble, and you meet Ria’s gaze as she looks at you way too excitedly for your own sake.

He laughs it off, sitting back in his spot, and then he grabs the bottle spinning it. Whether he meant it or not, it spins twice before stopping, and you stare down the neck of the bottle as it points towards you.

You think Ria is about to leap up, screaming, ‘I knew it!’ Especially as you just keep on staring at the neck of the bottle, refusing to turn your face towards Jungkook. You see his smirk in the periphery of your vision. See the way he wets his lips, far too ready to kiss you dumb like only he knows how to do.

“What are you waiting for?” Nabi asks from beside you, nudging you with an elbow.

You take a deep breath, chuckling. “Let’s pray Taehyung never learns about this,” you say, referencing everything that your friends don’t know, and then you turn towards Jungkook.

Your comment has made him pensive. He’s lost the smirk, and his eyes scan your face, lingering on your lips for far longer than necessary. It makes you blush, makes you feel vulnerable and naked, and you try to find a spark of defiance in you.

All you find is his gravity, and you lean towards him.

He meets you halfway – with none of the fire he had for your friend. Instead, his soft, pink lips move against yours, slowly, and your eyes flutter shut as you instinctively cup his cheek. It feels like time stretches, endlessly. Your mouths dance together, like suddenly eternity found you in its hold. 

When Jungkook’s tongue teases your bottom lip, you let him in, circling it with your own tongue. You hear the cheers now – they’re distant, like they are on the other side of a veil, in an entirely different universe. You ignore them, focusing on the man next to you, kissing you.

You feel Jungkook’s hand as it finds your thigh. He holds you, thumb digging slightly into your skin, and memories of your bodies entwined flash behind your eyelids. So much so that you sigh in the kiss, rhythm suddenly accelerating. It grows frantic, though still just as languid. For a moment, you’d wish for your friends to disappear, to leave you alone with Jungkook but…

“Damn, get a room!” Ria yells, then bursts out laughing with the rest of the friend group. 

You startle, pulling away from Jungkook. Your gazes meet, both wide as if scared, as if you just crossed a line. Though you reckon you’ve crossed the line a while ago already.

You can’t focus on the game after that. You spin and kiss Ria, who then kisses Yoongi. You lose track after that, and thankfully the bottle doesn’t point towards you or Jungkook again. All you can do as your friends exchange kisses and saliva is try to tame your wild heart, but it’s started a race you are bound to lose – a race to the man by your side.

You wonder how Jungkook is feeling. If he, too, feels deeply affected by that kiss. If it rendered his mind a blank canvas like yours, erasing thoughts and memories, leaving just him, him, him.

You’re going insane. You’re going insane for someone you can’t have, for someone who you told to never kiss you again, not even twenty-four hours ago. But his lips and his tongue are drugs you’re starting to like too much – they are an addiction waiting to ensnare you in its web.

You only come back to your senses when, bored, your friends decide to stop the game in favour of watching some dumb movie and making a drinking game out of it. You participate in the drinking game, hoping that it will numb the beating of your heart, but it does little to no good.

Perhaps because Jungkook sits next to you, and you’re all too aware of every spot where your bodies touch. And you wonder – in a universe where he isn’t your brother’s best friend, would you be leaning in his side? Would you let yourself be ensnared, even though his reputation follows him like smoke follows the fire?

You think about what Colton said. You think about Shelly, and about all the other girls Jungkook has had under him. It finally douses the beating of your heart, fire returning to a slumbering ocean, and you feel like you can breathe for the first time since the bottle landed on you and he kissed you.

The second movie the group decided to watch after that drinking game is almost over. Ria fell asleep with her head on Seokjin’s shoulder, who sits with a straight-back, his cheeks turning pink when you notice their position. Hoseok and Yoongi sit next to each other on the couch – pinkies subtly linked, which brings a soft smile to your lips. Jungkook is next to you, though his deep breathing and soft snores tell you enough about what state he currently is in.

You don’t know how you missed it. But Namjoon and Nabi aren’t in the living room anymore. You wonder where they went off to, and the answer comes by itself as they walk back in, clothes wrinkled and hair undone, both of them sporting small, satisfied smiles.

You can’t resist. You pull your phone out, heading to the group chat you have with Ria and Nabi.

[2:43 am] You: I hope you guys didn’t fuck in my bed

You snort to yourself before turning off your phone, and the movie comes to an end a few minutes later, rousing those that had fallen asleep. Jungkook offers you a sleepy smile, and your heart skips a beat. So you look away, think about Colton and Shelly, and the emotion passes.

“I guess we should be going,” Hoseok says as everyone stretches.

Everyone agrees with that statement, and you walk your friends to the door. You make round eyes at Nabi, motioning towards Namjoon, and the shade of red she turns to is enough to let you know that she and Namjoon really did it. You stifle your laugh as you hug her, and then Ria comes to you, resting her head on your shoulder.

“I’m so tired,” she whines. “Can I sleep over?”

You don’t know why. But your eyes go to Jungkook, who’s watching the interaction unfold from where he’s leaning against the wall. Your throat goes dry, and you look away from him, telling your friend, “Nabi will get you home.”

Nabi nods, “Come, baby. Your bed awaits you.”

Ria grumbles, but she follows Nabi, and slowly everyone filters out of your apartment.

Everyone but you and the guy you’re starting to think you should maybe avoid.

“So,” Jungkook lets out, and he laughs lightly. “Tonight was fun. I didn’t know your friends were so chill.”

You lean against the door. The cold from outside lingers, but the way Jungkook is looking at you is warm, hot.

“They are,” you reply.

“I should hang with you guys more often.”

You gulp as he tilts his head to the side, toying with his piercings. “What would Taehyung say?” you ask.

“Who cares what Taehyung says? I’m allowed to have other friends.”

“Right.”

Jungkook’s tongue pokes at his cheek and then he sighs. “Are you upset about the kiss?”

You shake your head no, shrugging your shoulders. “It was just for the game.” 

Though, was it really just for the game?

“Right,” he echoes. He changes tactics, chuckling lightly. “Your friend Ria wants me. She told me while we were in the kitchen.”

“I think you lost your spot to Jin,” you quickly reply, and he doesn’t miss the undertone of jealousy in your voice.

“You didn’t look like you liked me kissing Nabi.”

“You didn’t look like you liked me kissing Jin.”

He wets his lips. “Oh, peach. I loved watching you kiss him, looking all guilty after.” Another chuckle. “You think you can fool me?”

“You’re an asshole.” You don’t mean the insult. Or maybe you do. Maybe some part of you thinks about Taehyung, about what Colton has said. Because you want him to be an asshole – a red flag, so easily avoidable. You want him to be easily pushed away, like the emotions you thought you pushed away earlier.

Though maybe you’ve just been fooling yourself.

You don’t want Jungkook taking a step towards you, stopping where he’s now standing a couple of steps in front of you. You don’t want the conflict unfolding in his big, doe eyes. You don’t want any of it. You just want peace, you want to protect a heart that’s barely healed from Sam Hwang’s passage in your life. 

You want peace so much that you walk closer to him as well, stopping close enough that you have to tilt your head back to look up at him.

“I’m an asshole?” Jungkook repeats, making it sound like a question.

You nod. “Yeah. Because we shouldn’t kiss again. Because you said that it meant nothing, that we have to pretend nothing happened.”

He’s so still in front of you you’d imagine he was turned to stone.

But yes, here’s why your heart has been going crazy. You’re trying to blame it on Colton, on Taehyung and on everybody else. But the fault has always been Jungkook’s. The fault was the way he made you feel, and how just a day later he decided that it wasn’t enough, that it wasn’t what he wanted. Though maybe that was you, and your constant fear of Taehyung learning about you and Jungkook despite the ocean between you.

“But it meant nothing, right?” Jungkook challenges, dark eyes searching for the truth in yours. “Is that why I haven’t been able to fuck anyone else since then?”

Your mind empties out.

“Jungkook…”

“Is that why I kind of want to just say fuck it and tell your brother?” His hand reaches between you, and he runs a hesitant finger on your jawline. “Is that why we’re oh so pretending that nothing happened when you’re the only thing I look at when we’re in the same room?”

“You wanted this,” you remind him.

“You wanted Taehyung to never know, peach,” he counters. “I’ve been wanting you since the first time I saw you.”

You don’t know what to make of this revelation. You don’t even know if you believe him, or if Jungkook is just too good at spinning words into beautiful lies countless hearts have wanted to believe in, only to end up broken. 

You do want to believe him. You do want to believe that every time he’s called you peach, he meant something more. That that first kiss in the kitchen, during a power outage that’s brought you far too close for comfort, meant something to him the way that it meant something to you as well.

“Then why the fuck do I still see you flirting left and right?” you ask.

His jaw clenches. “This is about what Colton said, isn’t it?”

It is, and it isn’t. “Jungkook, I saw you at that bar. I saw you tonight with Ria. It is what you are.”

“What I am?” he repeats, chuckling bitterly. “Is your opinion really so low of me, peach?” He leans towards you, and you tilt your head to the side, letting him run his soft lips up the side of your neck. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. “I’ve heard you fucking girls in this apartment.”

“And I’ve heard you touching yourself at the same time,” Jungkook whispers right in the shell of your ear. “I’ve heard you and that Hobi dude too.”

His hand finds your waist, and he holds you in place as you say, “I think we never should have fucked.”

He leans his forehead against yours. “Why?”

You offer him the truth, in all its vulnerability. 

“Because there is no going back now.”

He laughs, yet it sounds void of joy. “And is that a bad thing?”

“You will just hurt me.”

“Not planning on it.”

You wonder if his heart is beating just as loudly as yours, or if this is just an act to him. It’s hard to tell, and your soul vibrates on a frequency you can’t ignore anymore. It takes everything in you and builds you anew, destroys all the restraints you’ve been trying to have in order to protect yourself.

The spider caught you in its web, and you have no escaping now.

“You can’t say that,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut as he finds the other side of your waist, and he pulls you closer.

“Why do you want to believe the worst of me so bad?”

Because you’ve never given me a reason to believe otherwise, you want to reply, but you can’t bring yourself to say it. Not when his thumbs are tracing idle shapes on your waist, speaking in a language you think your body already knows.

“Because it’s the only way that I don’t end up getting hurt,” you whisper in a voice smaller than the atoms holding you together. “When you believe the worst of people, they never disappoint you.”

Jungkook moves one of his hands to your back, and then it glides up until he’s lost it in the hair at the back of your head. “But if you don’t risk anything, you don’t get anything,” he says.

He’s right, and you almost purr as he gently massages your scalp. “I risked once, and it wasn’t worth it.”

“That asshole didn’t know how to handle you, peach,” Jungkook affirms, softly. “And trust me when I say this – he will regret it later.”

Sam Hwang comes to the forefront of your mind. You remember the summer, remember the easy smiles and the dancing and the driving with the windows down. You remember it all, and then you remember the date yesterday, and the way the dream he’d once been had curdled like milk left outside of the refrigerator for too long. 

Sam was poison shaped like the prettiest flower. His lies were your undoing – has Jungkook ever lied to you?

You don’t think he has. He’s always been crudely honest, playful in his arrogance. But he’s never once lied to you, or at least you want to believe so.

“And do you know?” you ask, murmuring the words so close to his lips you feel them move when his mouth slightly falls open.

Time stops, the whole entire world holding its breath. Your arms are around his neck now – you don’t remember moving at all – and you tighten your hold, just a little bit. As if you think he’ll walk away now, flick your nose and tell you that this is all just a joke.

That he’s played your heart better than anyone before, and that you can laugh about it now.

“Let me show you,” he answers instead, and you think you hear thunder in the distance.

Or maybe that’s your heart, as Jungkook ravishes your lips in a languid kiss that makes you melt into his touch. His large hand finds the small of your back, pushing you into his strong body. You mold yourself to him, arch your back as his feathery soft lips move against yours, his piercings pushing into your lower lips.

He tastes like addiction, like you’ll never be able to kiss someone else. And right now, you don’t think you’ll ever want to. Because you’ve never been kissed the way that Jungkook kisses you. Like he’s branding himself on you, burning his name in your heart so that his flames will keep you warm, always.

He turns you around, pushing you into the wall. A second later he makes you jump so that he can wrap your legs against his waist, and though his lips have momentarily disconnected from yours, he’s quick to kiss you again, to push his tongue in your mouth. You suck on it, and he retaliates by grinding into you.

He’s already hard. He’s already fucking hard and you’ll go insane.

“Jungkook,” you breathe the second he pulls away from your mouth to leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck. He stops at the neckline of your shirt, lips ghosting as he moves back up.

“Do you know how mad you made me when you said you wanted to keep things between us?” he whispers, and he teases your earlobe with his teeth. “When you said that Taehyung doesn’t need to know everything?”

Your head is too clouded with thoughts of him, of what you know is about to happen, so you barely remember. You thought he was the one who wanted to pretend like nothing happened, but then again, he did say that that was you.

You’re confused, and you don’t have time to revisit the past before he sucks on the skin of your neck, hard enough to leave a hickey behind. You run your hands through his hair, and pull at the longer strands on top until his mouth finds yours again.

“I’ll tell him,” Jungkook adds when he pulls away from the kiss. “I don’t care what he says, I’ve been wanting you so bad.”

“Kook…” you trail off, and he grinds into you, before pulling away from the wall to carry you towards his room.

“I’m serious,” he says in your ear, and he does sound more serious than he’s ever been with you. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

You nuzzle your face in his neck, peck the mole you find there. “Can we just figure shit out between us before we tell him?”

You think you feel Jungkook stiffen, but it might just be because one of his hands let go of you so that he can open the door to his room.

“Sure,” Jungkook whispers. “Just let me know when I should speak to him and I will.”

You appreciate it, but you reckon you should be the one to break the news to your brother. You have a lot more chance to be able to handle the tantrum he’ll likely throw, but you don’t want to think about that right now.

You just want to think about Jungkook, about the way he’s gently putting you down on the edge of his bed, amidst the mess of blankets.

And then he’s taking off his shirt, throwing it to the side, and your mind eddies out.

He’s beautiful. You’ve known this, you’ve seen him before, but there’s something about him that’s different right now. Maybe it’s the neon light coming from the street outside. Or maybe it’s just because the fear that’s been plaguing you finally disappeared, and the relief of knowing he wants you too overpowers everything, painting him with all the beauty he beholds.

And he beholds far too much for your frail heart to endure. Yet you still gaze at him, admire all the strong planes of his body as he fishes his cell phone from the pocket of his pants to turn on the LED lights in his room. They shine red, and he winks at you before strutting to the window so that he can pull the curtains shut.

“Red lights?” you tease.

“It’s to set the ambiance,” he says confidently as he walks back towards you.

“You’re an idiot.” It’s said affectionately, with a twinkle in your eyes that you know he doesn’t miss. Because he grins, that bunny grin that does funny things to your insides, and then he stops in front of you.

He drops on his knees, his hands spreading your legs. You widen your gaze, but he’s already bending down, pressing a kiss to your clothed pussy.

“You’ll come on my tongue, mmh?”

Cheeks burning, all you can do is nod your head.

“Good girl.”

Jungkook makes quick work of getting you out of your pants, but he leaves your underwear on. He watches the wet spot where you’ve already soaked through, smirk curving the corner of his lips.

“Gosh, look at you,” he says. “You’re already so ready.”

He pushes your thong to the side so that he can see your glistening pussy. You know you’re wet – you feel your juices dripping out of you, and it only increases when Jungkook leans in, turning his head at the last second to kiss the inside of your thigh instead.

“What do you want?” he asks.

“Huh?” is all you’re able to let out.

He laughs, and he grins up at you. “You’re adorable.” He kisses your thigh again, and then his lips ghost on your clit. You try to move your thighs, but he’s firmly holding you against the bed, refraining any motion from you. “What do you want?” he repeats.

This time, you were ready for the question. “Your mouth,” you breathe out.

He hums, looking up at you through half-lidded eyes. “Where?”

“Eat me out,” you say.

“That’s what you want?”

You nod.

“Then that’s what you’ll get.”

And then his lips close around your clit and he sucks hard, tongue flicking at the sensitive bundle of nerves. You immediately grip at his hair, moaning softly, your eyes shutting as he moves from your clit to your entrance. His tongue pushes in, laps your juices, and all you can do is pull at his hair, as if that will keep you grounded.

As if you’re not already floating towards the ceiling.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you curse.

“You like that?” he queries against your pussy, the movement of his lips making you shiver.

“Yes.”

He sucks on your clit again, eyes shutting in concentration as he switches to drawing circles around it, sending bolts of lightning up your spine. You moan, and you feel him smirk against you as he keeps going. As one of his hands hesitantly leaves your thigh to slide between your legs. 

He teases your entrance with a finger, circling it in time with his ministrations on your clit. The breathy sound you let out is interrupted by a louder moan as his finger slips inside, immediately curving to find the right spot inside of you.

Jungkook shifts, pushing your leg on his shoulder so that he can reach around your frame, his hand resting on your belly. He pushes just enough for you to know that he wants you to lie down, and then he holds you there, the new angle making you see stars.

“How can you-“ It breaks into a moan. “Be so good?” you conclude.

Jungkook laughs, pulling away to meet your gaze. “I’ve seen how you touch yourself,” he reminds you. “I’m just trying to reproduce what you did.”

Which makes no sense because he barely saw anything, but you’re too blissed out to question him. You just take the pleasure in, feeling it rise like the crescendo of a song. 

You’ll come. It only grows more evident when Jungkook pushes a second finger in, and he fucks you like that, relentlessly. His tongue on your clit draws expert figures, and he mixes it with just enough sucking for you to not fall into oversensitive land. No, he keeps you at the edge, pushing you towards your orgasm so quickly you think you’ll explode.

And you do. The second you climax you let out a broken moan, your thighs closing around his face. That doesn’t deter him, and he milks your orgasm out of you, letting you crash into walls and walls of it, until you feel like you’re not even in your body anymore.

Only then does Jungkook sit back on his heels, your juice dripping from his chin. He doesn’t dry it yet – instead he climbs on top of you, pressing a wet kiss to your lips that tastes of you. And the kiss is savage, wild, with his tongue in your mouth and your hands pulling at his hair.

He grunts, pulling away from your mouth to leave a trail of wet kisses on your neck as your hands move to his back, where you leave scratches behind.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Do that when I’m fucking you and you’ll make me come in no time.”

“Then take off your clothes,” you say through the haze. “I want you to fuck me.”

He obeys, standing up to take off his pants and boxers. His dick springs free, proud and tall, precum on the tip that looks far too inviting. So you sit up, hand grabbing the base of his cock, and Jungkook stills as you take him in your mouth, looking up at him.

His precum tastes salty on your tongue, and you lick him all clean before pulling away, jerking him off slowly. 

“Sorry,” you apologize. “I couldn’t help myself.”

He grabs your cheeks, bending down so that he can steal another languid kiss on your lips.

“Don’t apologize, peach,” he says as he straightens. “I’ve wanted to know what your mouth feels like on my dick for a really long time.”

So you dive in, wrapping your lips around his dick to suck on his tip. He bucks his hips, pushing deeper, and you hold the gag reflex in as he hits the back of your throat, immediately pulling out.

“Sorry.”

“For what?” you ask, and the line of drool that connected his dick to your mouth breaks.

“I didn’t mean to fuck your mouth,” he explains.

“What if I want you to?”

He just looks down at you with so much lust in his eyes that you think you’ll drown in it. To your dismay, he says, “Not tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ll come before I can fuck your tight pussy if I fuck your mouth right now.”

Yet he doesn’t move right away, so you keep jerking him off, licking at his slit. “Do you always come so easily when you fuck girls?”

He doesn’t like what you say. Indeed, he pulls on your hair, forcing you to tilt your head back as he bends down. 

“Open your mouth,” he orders.

You obey, far too pliable, and Jungkook spits in your mouth.

It takes you aback, but he doesn’t let you think about it before he pushes your head closer to his dick. 

“Now you can suck my dick.”

You glance up at him as he lets go of your hair, gently brushing it as if to make sure he didn’t hurt you.

“Damn, Jungkook,” you let out.

He freezes, his lustful gaze turning apologetic. “Oh… wait, I’m sorry if-“

“No,” you interrupt. “That was hot.”

“Are you sure?”

Without breaking eye contact, you swirl your tongue around the tip of his dick, mixing his drool with yours that was already there. “Yes.”

And then you unleash yourself, taking as much of him in your mouth as you can. You hollow your cheeks, swallow around him, and then pull away so that you can lick from between his balls up to the tip of his cock. You apply pressure to his frenulum, teasing it for a little longer, and then you circle the head of his dick again, sucking on it.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses.

And he keeps on cursing as you keep going, the taste of his precum far too inebriating. You want more of it, you want all of it, and you give it to him, show him just how much you’ve wanted him too. Just how much you’ve always found him hot, how much you’ve always dreamed of choking on his dick when he bucks his hips again, and this time the gag reflex makes you choke.

You pull away with drool on your chin, teary-eyed as you look up at him.

“Listen,” he says. “If you keep going, I’ll come. I’m down if you are, but I really, really want to fuck you.”

“Put a condom on your fucking dick, JK,” you tell him. “I want you.”

You don’t have to say it twice. Jungkook walks to his nightstand, fishing a condom out of the drawer. He’s quick to rip the tinfoil package, pulling the condom out so that he can wrap it on his cock. You watch from where you’ve lied back down on the bed, fingers mindlessly drawing circles on your clit after you’ve taken your panties off.

“You’re so fucking desperate for me, peach,” Jungkook purrs. “You really are just a dirty slut for me.”

And then he’s climbing on the bed, pulling you up. He rids you of your shirt, and he curses under his breath at the sight of your lace bralette. 

“You’re keeping this on,” he says, and you nod as he pushes you back down on the bed so that he can climb on top of you. “Stop me if it’s too much, okay?”

You blink once, not sure you heard right, and Jungkook bends to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. You weren’t expecting it, and your heart melts in your chest, even as his tip nudges your entrance.

“You sure you want me?” he asks. “We can stop-“

“Jungkook, fuck me before I go insane.”

He smirks, and he pushes in unforgivingly, slamming his dick in to the hilt. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your mouth falls open, though no sound escapes your lips. Jungkook grunts, and his dick twitches inside of you, bringing back stars to your vision.

“How can you be so fucking tight?” he asks. “Am I not turning you on?”

“Oh, you are.” You shudder in delight at the feel of him inside of you.

He pulls almost all the way back, and then snaps his hips forward again. “You better not be fucking anyone else,” he says. “Your pussy is mine.”

A part of you wants to say your pussy is no one’s but yours, but Jungkook immediately starts pounding into you, so hard his headboard hits the wall repeatedly. Once, you would have been on the other side of the wall, thinking about him fucking some girl, but now he’s fucking you.

Now he’s fucking you, his large dick dragging on your walls so perfectly you understand his reputation. He’s good, far too good, and you know he’ll easily be able to get you to come again. Especially as he bends forward to hit a better angle, and your hands find his thighs so that you can mark him there.

“Peach,” he moans, and you’re surprised to hear the nickname in the heat of the action, yet it makes so much sense.

It makes so much sense for you and Jeon Jungkook, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You feel so good,” you cry out, and Jungkook slows down so that he can lower himself on top of you, his forearms framing your face.

He pecks your lips. “It’s because you take me so well.”

You moan as he increases his pace once more, jackhammering into you. It hurts a little, but there’s something so sinful about the feeling of his dick hitting your cervix that all you can do is beg for more, even though he’s already pounding into you.

He doesn’t disappoint, clearly understanding what you want. Indeed, Jungkook pulls out, flips you over, settling himself between your legs so that he can hit it from the back. He raises your hips, just enough so that he can align himself with your entrance, and then he’s fucking you again, the new angle so good your orgasm approaches you at light speed.

“I’ll come,” you warn him in a high-pitched sound.

“Yeah?” he grunts, and all you do is moan his name in reply, right as he reaches in front of you, fingers skillfully aiming for your clit.

The second he’s pressing circles on your clit you climax, vision turning fully white as he slows down inside of you, giving you a respite so that he can milk your orgasm out of you.

“That’s it, peach,” he says, voice so low it’s almost a growl. “You’re such a good fucking girl for me.”

The words barely register, yet they make your head swim with ecstasy, swim with desire for the man behind you, on top of you. And once he’s sure to have milked your orgasm, Jungkook resumes his unforgiving speed, and his headboard bangs in the wall so loud you wonder if it’ll break.

Jungkook breaks first, bending down as his high hits, and he grunts and moans, his dick twitching inside of you. You wrap one hand around his forearm closest to your face, your walls fluttering around his dick as he shakes, spurting his cum into the condom.

He comes for a long time, but eventually his high recedes, and all that’s left to be heard in the room is your heavy breathing mingling with his. He’s wet on top of you, his body covered in a sheen of sweat, yet you don’t want him to move. 

You feel safe here, under him. Like his large frame will keep all atrocities of the world away from you.

Jungkook takes a deep breath and presses a kiss on your cheek. A tired smile grows on your lips, and it only gets bigger when he does it again, his lips lingering on your skin.

“That felt good?” he asks against you.

“Mmh,” you let out. 

“Good.” He pauses, pressing another kiss on your cheek before straightening, returning to his previous kneeling position. He massages your ass, and you almost purr from how good it feels. His softening dick falls out of you, and you look at him over your shoulder.

He’s dishevelled, sinfully so. The top of his chest is red, and wet strands of hair cling to his forehead. Yet he’s more beautiful than you’ve ever seen him, and it makes your heart flutter in your ribcage.

“You look good,” you tell him, even though you didn’t mean to say the words aloud.

He takes it in stride, a grin growing on his lips. “Thanks peach.” And then his gaze falls to your ass, and he playfully slaps it. “So do you.”

You snort, rolling on your back as he moves off from on top of you. He discards the condom, tying a knot in it before throwing it in the trash can, and you watch as he carefully cleans himself with some tissues. You should probably do the same thing, but all you can do is watch, feeling content in the swimming bliss, in the red light and Jungkook’s company.

“Do you want to take a shower?” he asks.

You hum, nodding lazily. “I should.”

“I’ll come with you,” he offers, hand extended towards you.

You can’t say no, so you take a shower with him, revelling in the feel of his large hands as he washes your back. You offer him the same treatment, and he teases you about it, yet it’s lacking its usual bite. His tone only holds endearment now, and maybe that’s why you don’t get angry.

Maybe that’s why you both are a giggling and blushing mess when you step out of the shower, and he wraps you in a towel before grabbing one for himself. He dries his hair first, and then wraps the towel around his waist, uncaring that he’s dripping water all over the floor. It’s usually something that drives you crazy, but right now you really can’t bring yourself to care.

Instead, you brush your teeth beside him, shrieking when he pokes your ribs.

“Jungkook!”

He laughs. “Sorry.”

He doesn’t look apologetic at all, and so you narrow your gaze at him, before spitting the toothpaste in the sink, letting the water carry it away.

“I’ll get my revenge someday,” you warn him.

“I’m terrified,” he teases, and you roll your eyes as you put the toothbrush away, leaving him alone in the bathroom. He’s quick to follow behind you as you aim for your room.

You’re not surprised when he follows you in, looking far too at ease in your space.

“What are you doing?” you ask him.

“Aren’t we sleeping together?”

You widen your gaze, letting out a small laugh. “You want to share a bed?”

He frowns, lips jutting out in a small pout. “Yeah?”

“You’re simping.”

His mouth falls open, and then he laughs, though it’s short-lived. His eyes darken, and he steps closer to you, one large hand wrapping around your throat. You gulp, and he tightens his grip, bending down so that he can steal a languid kiss on your lips. He tastes of mint, and you let out a breathy sound as he deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue in your mouth.

“Then I’ll let you sleep alone, peach,” he says when he pulls away, his hand falling to his side.

He’s already in the hallway when you call behind him, “Wait!”

Jungkook stops, but he doesn’t turn to look at you. So you walk over to him, pulling on his arm.

“Stay?”

He slides his gaze to you, a smirk adorning his lips. “Look who’s simping now?”

You clench your jaw, yet all he does is flick your nose as he moves back into your room, plopping down on your bed.

“My mattress is more comfortable,” he comments.

You glare at him, though your expression softens when his eyes shift from the ceiling to you. 

“Then do you want to sleep in your bed?”

“With you?” he asks. As you nod yes, he adds, “Absolutely.”

And that is how you find yourself in Jungkook’s bed, his inked arm wrapped around you as he holds you close to his chest. He turned off the LED lights, and his breathing is steady and deep behind you.

Your thoughts slide to Taehyung. To how he’d react if he saw you and Jungkook right now, all cuddled up in his best friend’s bed. You wonder, would he kill Jungkook or you first?

You reckon that that will be a bridge you’ll cross when you get to it. You don’t want to ruin what you might now have with Jungkook, not when getting to where you are tonight was such a hassle already. 

A hassle, yes, but worth every step of the way. If only for Jungkook to tighten his arm around you, pressing a kiss on the back of your head.

“I’ve been thinking,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” you let out as he doesn’t say anything else for a few seconds.

“Now I’ll allow you to call me crazy,” he adds, and you laugh, turning in his hold so that you can face him. His features are barely visible in the dim light filtering from behind the curtains, yet you’re pretty sure his eyes are soft as they meet yours. “But I want to go to New York with you.”

Your brows furrow. “To New York?” you press.

“My brother has an engagement party next weekend, and I’ve been dreading going.”

Now you’d say your heart just dropped to your ass because, is he really asking you to meet his family?

“You want me to go with you to your brother’s engagement party?” you let out.

He chuckles. “Yes.”

“But we’re not…” you trail off.

You’re not delusional enough to believe you’re suddenly dating Jeon Jungkook. Just because you both admitted your attraction to the other doesn’t mean that you have to dive head first into a relationship… right?

“No, we’re not,” he says as if sensing your unease. “My family sucks and I just… I’ve been dreading going, but I thought that it could be fun with you.”

You feel bad for him, for that vulnerable mention of his family, but you don’t want to push, so you say, “And what will you tell your family that I am?”

“Would you mind pretending to be my girlfriend?” he suggests. “Just for the weekend, so that you don’t get any wrong ideas.”

You roll your eyes, and he laughs, having probably seen the gesture. “What do I get in return?” you ask.

“My undying love and gratitude?” he teases, his bunny grin on display.

“Are you saying you love me, Jeon Jungkook?”

The silence is a little too long for comfort, and your heart races in your chest, awaiting his answer. Yet he only shrugs his shoulders, before saying, “You wish. So, is that a yes or a no?”

“It’s from next Friday to Sunday?” you enquire. 

He nods, and you truly take the time to ponder. Because you don’t know if it’s a good idea. If it means just getting attached more when one day this is all bound to go up in flames. 

Or maybe it won’t. Maybe Taehyung won’t be the overbearing asshole that you’ve known him to be your whole life, and maybe he’ll let you do whatever it is that you have to do with Jeon Jungkook. Maybe he’ll let you live what you have to live with Jungkook…

But then you think about Colton, you think about Lisa, about Shelly, Jungkook’s reputation once more haunting you. You’re not delusional enough to think you’ll be the one to change him.

Yet a weekend away, just the two of you… It sounds like heaven, though you’re aware it might just be hell disguised as a beautiful memory that will taunt you somewhere along the line.

College is meant to experience things though, right?

So you find yourself asking, “At what time do we leave?”

Prev | Chapter 7.5 | Next

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gosh where are these two headed :') next chapter is v special to me and i'm really excited for you guys to read! But first, let me know what you thought of this chapter? did we like it?<3

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[cherryblossomcowgirl]

my tears ricochet

Inspired by Taylor Swift “my tears ricochet”

MASTERLIST PINNED

WC: 1.4k

Warnings: cheating; breakup; fighting; angst; swearing

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We gather here, we line up, weepin' in a sunlit room

And if I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes too

Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe

All the hell you gave me?

'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you

'Til my dying day

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It took him 4 minutes to walk away from the last 2 years. 240 seconds to say goodbye. He didn’t even come inside. He stood on the front porch, like a coward. I followed him as he walked to his truck. I screamed his name between sobs. He started the engine and drove away.

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I didn't have it in myself to go with grace

And you're the hero flying around, saving face

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*2 months later*

I take a deep breath and call Bradley. He is outside 10 minutes later, ready to drive me to the bar. “Thanks, B. I didn’t want to walk in alone, but I really miss everyone.” He smiles, “I told you I am always here for you. I mean it. They all miss you too.” I mentally prepare myself to see Jake for this first time since that night. We haven’t spoken. He hasn’t even come to pickup his things. Bradley parks the Bronco and we walk into the Hard Deck. The team immediately spots us and waves us over to the pool table. Phoenix wraps me in a hug, “Y/n! It’s been too long!” “Hey Phe.” I smile and Bradley brings me a drink. The evening is nice. Everyone is chatting and shooting pool. I see Bradley’s posture stiffen and I turn to see Jake walking towards the group. He puts on his big old smile and greets everyone. His eyes meet mine and he just smiles. I roll my eyes and watch him put on his show. Darts, pool, his general asshole demeanor. Bob comes over and pats my back, “Happy you’re here, Y/n. I was so sad when Jake told us you left. Thought I wouldn’t see you around anymore.” I laugh, “So that’s his story, funny.” Bob raises his eyebrow and I notice the rest of the group getting quiet, trying to listen. I speak a little louder, not caring who hears, “I’m saying it’s funny because he just stood outside the door one night and said he ‘couldn’t do this anymore’. Then he drove away. Like a coward.” The group is silent and I see Jake’s cheeks go red. I raise my glass towards him and take a sip of my drink.

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And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake?

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed

Look at how my tears ricochet

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*4 months later*

Phoenix decides to throw a party for me officially finishing my residency. We end up at the Hard Deck, like always. Bradley and I spend most of the night dancing. I’m not sure what is growing between us, but I like it. He is sweet. He is thoughtful. He is gentle. He is the exact opposite of what I am used to. We finish our dance and head back to the group only to see Jake playing pool. His eyes meet mine and I see something in them I haven’t before, heartache.

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We gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean

Some to throw, some to make a diamond ring

You know I didn't want to have to haunt you

But what a ghostly scene

You wear the same jewels that I gave you

As you bury me

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*6 months later*

Things with Bradley moved fast. He officially asked me out right after Phoenix’s party and we have been inseparable since. He had always been such a good friend to me that it just felt natural. It felt safe. And now here we are, celebrating our engagement at the Hard Deck. I came home after doing my first major surgery without my mentor and he was there waiting for me. “B, you didn’t have to! I know you wanted to go see everyone.” He kisses me, “I wanted to wait for you! How did it go?” I tell him about the surgery in great detail. He stands in the bathroom as I shower to listen to my story. He hangs on every word. I start to get ready and realize my lucky scrub cap isn’t on its hook. He watches as I look for it, seeing it on the foot of the bed. I pick it up, “Can’t lose this.” He smiles. I feel something cold and metallic. I turn it around to see a ring. Bradley gets down on one knee, “Y/n, it’s you. You’re everything I want. Everything I need. I need you by my side until my dying day. Will you marry me?” I nod my head yes and get down with him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He kisses me, “I’m really happy you said yes, it would’ve been so awkward going to celebrate with our friends if you said no.” I laugh and follow him to the Bronco, glancing at the beautiful ring on my left hand. We walk into the Hard Deck to see that Penny has put up banners and balloons to celebrate. I hug her tight, “You are the sweetest. Thank you.” She kisses my cheek, “You deserve this.” I walk over to our friends and they is a chorus of congratulations. Bradley heads to the bathroom and Jake walks over from the dart board. He is wearing the St. Michael necklace I got him for his birthday. The patron saint of the military and doctors. The saint of protection. Of courage. Of leadership. He clears his throat, “Congratulations, Y/n. I am happy for you.” He smiles but his eyes look dreary. He isn’t clean shaven and his hair is disheveled. I put my hand on his shoulder, “Thanks, Jake.”

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And I can go anywhere I want

Anywhere I want, just not home

And you can aim for my heart, go for blood

But you would still miss me in your bones

And I still talk to you (when I'm screaming at the sky)

And when you can't sleep at night (you hear my stolen lullabies)

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I notice Jake distancing himself from the group slowly. When he is around, he keeps to himself. Part of me feels bad for him, but then I remember what he did. How he threw us away. I remember the messages I got from a random instagram account. A woman who apologized. She didn’t know he had a girlfriend. He hadn’t told her. My heart feels heavy remembering the pain. Then there’s B. B who writes me letters every day he is deployed. B who puts little post it notes of encouragement in my lucky scrub cap. B who loves me with everything he has.

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I didn't have it in myself to go with grace

And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves

You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed

You turned into your worst fears

.

.

Bradley is deployed and I miss him so much. I start drifting off to sleep on the couch when the doorbell rings. I turn on the porch light and open the door. Jake is standing there, looking at his feet. I step out onto the porch so that Bradley can see whatever this is on the Ring camera. “Jake? What are you doing here?” “I wanted to tell you that I am PCSing. Norfolk. Next week.” “Oh. Okay. Well, take care of yourself Jake.” He sighs, “I am sorry. For everything.” I cut him off, “Jake you don’t have to-“ “No, please. I need to say this. Y/n, I became the guy I never wanted to be. I could barely face you after what I did. And then Bradshaw, I saw how he looked at you. How he treated you. I had that. I threw that away. Y/n, I am going to regret what happened between us for the rest of my life.” My eyes water and he continues, “I wish you nothing but the best, okay?” He hugs me and I sniffle, “You too, Jake. Be safe up there.” He starts walking towards his truck and looks back, “I spent so long competing with Bradshaw and I thought we were just alike. Now I can see he is so many things that I will never be.”

[hanibalistic]

WHO YOU ARE, WHO I AM | LEE MINHO.

genre | fluff, angst, (semi) slow burn / arranged marriage au / strangers to lovers / 4th wall break

synopsis | when you wake up to a good-looking man who claims to be your husband, there isn’t much to do aside from assuming you got stuck in a drama.

word count | 12.0k+

warning | car crash / not edited since the first time i posted this story

note | bye-bye baby, i love you baby. more than that body pillow drabble at least.​

parts | one, two, three

After the doctor bandaged your hands and did some checkup on you to make sure you had sustained no more damage from the fall, you were glad to hear that they would take up the responsibility to call Minho’s parents instead.

You could not find the energy to talk to anyone about anything—perhaps you would give Yuna an earful about what happened, but she was gone by the time you got picked up by others around the scene. Tears kept falling down your face when you were getting treated, and the doctor in charge stopped asking you if she was hurting you anymore. It was obvious that your concern lay on someone else.

How did this happen? You always thought you would be so agile and smart during emergencies. The cold water of truth once again splashed down on you, reminding you that just because you think you’d be cool doesn’t mean you would be when your thoughts turn into reality. This isn’t the law of attraction, you can’t manifest the car away and you sure as well can’t manifest peace.

You sighed, your lashes wet and your under-eye pained from all the rubbing. It had to happen this way, didn’t it? The car crash was, unfortunately, essential in your drama. If it wasn’t the kidnapping, it if wasn’t the psychotic mother, if it wasn’t even the love triangle, then it would be the goddamn car crash. And as usual, it was infuriating and you wished it hadn’t happened.

It wasn’t that you minded the car crash (you would like to not see it as a plot device so often, though). You just hoped it hadn’t been Minho who got hit because he cared enough to save you from it. And now you were left here, sitting in the hospital lobby and being haunted by all the gut-wrenching components of a drama car crash.

Broken hands, broken legs, brain dead, blindness, mute, deaf, paralyzed, coma, a sudden discovery of cancer, a sudden discovery of related bloodlines, a sudden discovery of a terminal illness. You squealed under your breath as you went down the list, approaching the most common trait of them all—amnesia.

Sure, dramas usually have this rule where all you needed to endure was one to two months of hardships where Minho would revert to hating your guts, and then he would either fall in love with you again or you would give him the magical kiss of memory revival and he would suddenly remember your past together.

But those are often so unpredictable! You have watched hundreds of dramas that spin down several different lanes, and all of them have left you heartbroken one way or another. And by now you have learned how much different it would be for you to have to experience such events by yourself! If you could cry so hard because of what those pixelated people are going through, how would you begin to cope with experiencing it yourself?

A sob forced itself up to your throat, your chest sustained the pain of holding it in for too long it felt like you swallowed too many things at once, it felt like you were suffocating. You were afraid. So far, you have skated through every event with a very humorous coping mechanism, one that never does any long-term help. But this was different, this could last forever.

No, this wasn’t supposed to be the forever you experience. You two have just begun, you two were just starting to love each other loudly and happily. You haven’t had enough yet, you wanted more time! The gate to Heaven shouldn’t be allowed to close itself at people’s faces!

“Hello? Excuse me?”

You looked up at the doctor standing in front of you and immediately stood up, wiping your eyes on cue even though you had passed the point of crying and ceasing the chaos in your head. “Yes! How–how is Minho?”

“Good. He only got a few fractured ribs, a bad concussion, and a badly scraped forehead. He didn’t suffer any damage to his internal organs and there are no signs of internal bleeding,” the doctor explained. “He just needs to rest for now, but I estimate that he will wake up sooner than expected. You can wait in his room if you want to.”

You heard everything she said crystal clear. You even went so far as to repeat it in your head. Fractured ribs and concussion, ouchie but at least there wasn’t any internal damage that always sounded so life-threatening. This should be great news, but why did it sound so suspicious to you?

“Really? You are sure, doctor?” you asked, “He didn’t like…lost his eyesight or paralyzed or… I don’t know, cancer? Amnesia?”

“This is a car crash, I don’t think it will cause him cancer,” she replied calmly. If she was annoyed at your stupid questions, she was trained well not to show it on her face. “And no, we did all the scans. There is nothing else, I assure you.”

“But I swear I saw blood back then, what does that mean?”

“He scraped his forehead when he fell. We did sutures on the wound, which is going to leave him a scar but we can try to minimize it as best as we can,” she said.

Huh, bummer. Maybe I should order another car crash.

Yeah, now wasn’t the time. My apologies.

You thanked the doctor quickly then, wanting to do nothing more than to see him. But before you could leave, she held you back and shifted through her pocket for something she intended to give you.

"The paramedic stopped me and told me to give this back to Mr.Lee when you guys went in, but I assume it is yours?” she said as she pulled out a dark blue velvet box and handed it to you.

It was a ring box, with your ring stored securely in it. You felt a rush of tears piling at your eyes again but you held them down and nodded. “Yeah, well, let’s hope it’s still for me.”

“Pretty sure it will. He wouldn’t buy you a ring if he didn’t care enough to jump in front of a car for you.” She shrugged. “His room is right around the corner, you can ask the nurses around.”

You bid her goodbye then, watching her rush away as her pager beeped. Then you returned your attention to the ring. You took it out of the box and slipped it on, admiring the way it still fits perfectly around your finger. You became his and you would always be from now on; wearing the ring is an act of taking a physical vow. Clasping the box shut, you put it in your pocket carefully before heading to where the doctor pointed you.

This was painstakingly familiar, Minho thought as he opened his eyes once again to welcome the flood of nausea and ugly ceiling lights. He hasn’t been in the hospital for a long time but he could tell he was in one from the saturated smell of alcohol and the overall sickly atmosphere. Shutting his eyes immediately after waking up, he groaned hoarsely as he recalled what events led up to this moment and realized he would have to be bedridden once more.

What a shame, you would have to take care of him again—hey, hold on a second! Where were you?

Minho snapped his eyes open, panic overwhelming the revolting weight laid atop of his body and brain. He did push you out of the way, right? He remembered he did, but he couldn’t be sure if you both were lucky enough to not have a second careless driver grace the crossroad. Or what if you bumped your head too hard on the ground and got a bad concussion? Or what if he didn’t push you far away enough for the car not to hit you?

He turned his head over to the door, wanting to call for a nurse and ask them millions of unprepared questions, but he stopped in his tracks abruptly when his gaze shivered downwards and he found you sleeping with your head on the edge of the bed. He hadn’t even registered the feeling of his hand being held by yours, the pulse oximeter and the IV on his left arm had taken away most of his sense of touch.

Calming down, Minho relaxed against the pillows and exhaled in relief. He would much rather have you here and sleeping in an uncomfortable position than laying on a bed with a heart monitor beeping next to your bed. Lowering his head so he could look at you, he softened at the way your cheek was squeezed against your forearm and the fading redness visible under your once tearful eyes. Oh, how he longed to reach out and touch you right now, the desire was immeasurable.

His mellow eyes trailed over to your hand, the one laying on the side of his legs, and he frowned slightly at the heavy white gauze wrapped around your lower palm. Getting a scrape when he pushed you away like that is likely inevitable; it got the job done, thankfully, he hoped it didn’t hurt you too much. He was promoted to move his hand when he saw yours, the one you had your own pinned down on the bed softly, and it was then when he felt the roughness of the gauze rubbing against his skin as well.

With a grimace, he looked over to where your hands were stacked on top of each other, and he held his breath when he finally noticed the shining diamond sitting prettily on your finger.

You put the ring back on.

The box must have flown out of his pocket when he got hit. He had been taking it with him everywhere recently just in case the perfect timing to give it back to you turns out to be a place where he couldn’t have access to it immediately. Besides, holding the box in his hand had always reminded him of you, and he liked being reminded of you from time to time throughout the day.

It made him feel less jittery, less annoyed at the general things, and it got him excited to return home at the end of the day.

Minho couldn’t think about anything else at the moment; all that flooded his mind was how much more fulfilling it was to see the ring on your finger rather than in the box, how things should have been this way all along, and what it all meant now that you’ve worn it back.

Forgiveness for his aloofness in the past, a firm acceptance of this marriage, and that he has become someone who can be loved by you.

His shaky eyes were filled with droplets, creating a glassy sight in his already glittery eyes. Feeling you stir on your spot, he slowly moved his head up so he could watch you wake from your slumber. Your grogginess went away as soon as you met eyes with him, and instead of an excited squeal or a surprised gasp, the only thing that glossed over you was an immense relief.

Looking at you, Minho breathed out a quiet laugh, one that even you couldn’t hear. He felt your hand around him still, but your grip more secure now. In an attempt to chase the tears away from your eyes, he joked, “Stop frowning. Your face is gonna get stuck.”

“I’m glad you still remember that,” you laughed, lightly shoving his leg as your voice echoed the room. He gave you a knowing hum as if telling you it would be impossible for him to ever forget the unfunny jokes you liked to tell around the house so much, they were practically engraved in his mind.

Sitting up straighter now, your entire demeanor became gentler. Your senses less alert, your mouth quirked into a permanent smirk, and your fluffy gaze paying a constant focus on Minho. 

“You haven’t forgotten me, have you?” you asked slowly, propping yourself up on your intertwined hands and smiling brightly up at him.

“No,” he replied.

“Who am I?”

“You are [Name]. You have bad humor, you forced pizza down my throat once, and you made me like soap opera,” he said, finding his voice back as more words gradually left his lips. And then he paused for a moment, a dramatic moment where he eyed you lovingly, watching as your brows raised in anticipation. “And I think I might be your husband.”

A joyous sob came in the form of giggle and Minho whined at the strands of tears that danced down your cheeks. He reached out to you, wanting to wipe your tears away for you, but you stopped him and told him not to move. Instead, you got up from the chair and scooted closer to the edge of the bed so you two could be closer at face level.

You slipped your arm under this head and the other reached to cup his jaw. You kissed his forehead, once and twice, then you pulled away just enough for you to look at him fully. Ah, you were so filled to the brim with affection for him; it was so new to you but so real the same time that you were not afraid of diving headfirst into it.

“I think you are my husband,” you whispered with a small nod.

He smiled. “Thank you for having me again.”

You gave him a smile before leaning down to kiss him again. This time you didn’t stop at his forehead. Your soft lips trailed down his eyes, his nose, his cupid’s bow, and before you could kiss him on the lips as you had always wished, you pulled away with a puff of nervous breath. You stared into his eyes, feeling the same longing in the way his hand found your wrist and he held onto you.

What are you waiting for? For permission? For him to get better? Go on, kiss him.

You two will be fine, you won’t hurt each other.

Pressing your lips against his tentatively, you felt a rush of adrenaline racing around your lungs. It made you feel hypersensitive, like a supernatural who could hear and see and feel beyond the human spectrum—the forced nudge of your noses, the beating in your ears, the softness of his lips, your quickened breathes, his soft locks flowing between your fingers, his grip on your wrists tightening to keep you with him.

It was all so overwhelming, the intimacy and the desperation. The emotions came in tiny waves, similar to the way the ocean feels when you stepped your feet on the shore. It drowns you out, it lets you breathe, it drowns you out again. You kiss, you breathe, and you kiss him again. No matter how many times the cycle continues, no matter how many times the seawater brushes past your skin, you get surprised by it and you keep yearning for more.

Your heart was hanging by a thread, any minute now it would leave your chest and land itself straight into Minho’s palms.

Hesitantly pulling away, you kept your mouths close enough for him to still feel you against his lips. He leaned in a little, breathing out a whine that made you realize your heart was already in his hands long ago. Swallowing down a breath, you whispered, “Do you remember, that I love you?”

He nodded, his lashes fluttering as he glanced down at your lips again and back up at your eyes, “I will now.”

Minho’s heart was yours too, long ago, and you’ve learned that.

You jolted awake in the middle of the night. Heavy breaths left your lips as you sat up against the arm of the couch. Your heart was beating quickly like you had just run a mile around the track field.

It was nothing like the way you used to be yanked out of sleep. It wasn’t like your head hitting against your desk in a boring lecture, or when you brutally died in a bad dream. This one was different. You were not falling asleep and you weren’t dreaming. It was different in a way that all you saw during your ‘consciousness’ was blackness, paired with a familiar voice you never thought you would hear again.

“Mom?” you whispered as you quickly scanned your surroundings, looking for the sight of your mother.

But you were still in the hospital room. You were sitting on the couch located at the corner of the room, with your phone and leftover takeaway food resting on top of the small table before you. The moon has gone up and the sky has turned darker than night, you glanced over and found Minho sleeping on the bed as he should.

You were back in where you were supposed to be, but your mother’s voice felt genuinely real during your supposed dream. Sitting up straighter and putting your feet down on the ground, you ran your hands through your hair to force yourself into concentration. Why did you jolt awake at your mother’s voice? There should be no reason for you to find her a threat unless you felt like you were being pulled out of this world.

Like you were falling, like you were falling out of this place, like you were leaving this world and back to reality.

“Oh god,” you gasped as you snapped your head up, your eyes wide.

Great, you were finally piecing the puzzle together, [Name]. I’m glad. 

You have exhausted your one near-death experience when you almost got hit by a car yesterday. If Minho hadn’t pushed you to the side and you got hit then things would have been different; you’d be hit by the car, got sent to a hospital to get fixed, and nothing would have happened. Alas, Minho did push you out of the way, and now you have reached the limit, which was only one. If you remember clearly, the way you arrived to this world was by waking, so when you return home, you would find yourself waking up as well. 

Except this time, you would be alone, and Minho never existed.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you repeated under your breath, biting your nails in an attempt to ease out the spiraling anxiety permanent in your head. It was all hitting you too quickly—the near-death theory, the memories you have of your real life, or the lack thereof, feeling like you were being pulled out of your own body, going back to reality, leaving Minho here.

I reckon this would be better for you, actually. The anxiety keeps you awake, and the pacing around keeps you active and forces your eyes open. It would be sooner or later, though, when you find yourself dozing off due to the inability to stay awake any longer. That’s when things get bad for you because as soon as you fall asleep, you will wake up in a whole different place. A familiar place, but different, nonetheless. 

Oh, but how could this be? You have just worn the ring, you two have just kissed for the first time. You couldn’t fathom the idea of being separated from Minho and you didn’t want to leave him yet! You never want to leave him ever! There was still so much for you two to do! You needed more time. You both needed more time!

“[Name]?”

“Huh–oh, hey, Minho.” You moved over to him with a smile. “Did I wake you?”

He could see the panic in your eyes and he frowned. “Are you okay? You look tired. Maybe you should get some sleep–”

“Oh, I–” Your bottom lips quivered.

How long would you be able to hide it before he finds out? How long could you stay awake and act normal for? How would you be able to explain why you always look so exhausted? Minho should know the truth, he deserved to know that you have been hiding something important from him the whole time. Besides, it would be such a shame if you leave him unprepared for your departure. He’s the one who has to remember, after all. 

“I’m not leaving!”

Oh, yell at me, why don’t you?

“Hey,” Minho grabbed a hold of your hand, his brows furrowed up at you, “what is going on?”

You stayed still to pull yourself together for a few seconds, breathing slowly, and then you looked back at him. “I have something to tell you.”

He could sense the solemnity in your voice and it terrified him. You had shown him a large range of your emotions before, from playful to angry to loving, but he has never seen you look so helpless. Tugging at your hand, he kissed your knuckles softly and nodded. “What is it?”

And you told him everything, struggling to make your story coherent despite only having the absolute truth escaping your lips. You told him from the very moment when you found yourself waking up next to him, and then when you were still figuring out what to do with ‘your’ past broken relationship, to adapting quickly and blending into this world. Everything up until this point, when you were so close to forgetting where you came from only to have reality force itself back into your head again.

It was taking Minho a long time to comprehend all the information thrown at him. When it seemed like he was finally done, he moved his eyes over to you and he tilted his head with a sigh. “That is a very deliberate joke.”

Right, you should have anticipated a reaction like that. It would be too easy if he brought it immediately. You pulled a face. “It’s not a joke, Minho.”

“Oh, so you are trying to tell me you aren’t from this universe and you aren’t even who you are before you came here?” he said, confusion evident on his tired face and his voice rising as he went on. “You are basically suggesting parallel universes exist?”

“No–I mean, yeah? It could be true?” You shrugged, and then you shook your head. “The point is–I can feel myself leaving this place and I am pretty sure as soon as I fall asleep, my time will be up. I just felt like I should tell you because you deserve to know.”

Despite how serious you sounded throughout your entire explanation, he just couldn’t bring himself to take you seriously. It was too absurd, the whole concept of waking up in another place. Sure, you did suddenly change overnight and you did feel much different than you did before, and there had been certain very subtle hints that could back your point up, but it was not enough for Minho to believe in what you just told him.

“You should go to sleep, [Name]. You’ve been really tired,” he said again, trying to persuade you into going back to bed.

Disappointment flashed before your eyes. Your shoulders slumped in defeat as you looked away, unsure what else you could do to convince him. The only thing you were sure about was that you absolutely could not fall asleep, no matter how tired you were. You planned to hang on for as long as you could, and hopefully, Minho would come around and believe you by then.

“I am just gonna go take a walk and come back,” you said, smiling faintly. “You should go back to sleep though.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “You can sleep with me on the bed if you want. I wouldn’t mind.”

“You know I can’t,“ you said. Leaning down to kiss his forehead, you moved away from the bed slowly. “Go to bed. I’ll wake you up with breakfast tomorrow morning.”

You closed the door, leaving him alone in the darkroom. Minho pouted, he was thinking too much to be able to just fall asleep now. The fact that he couldn’t just sleep sort of gave him a sense that he was leaning towards believing it and he was just in the stage of denial. If he really thought it was a joke then he should have no problem brushing it off, right?

He leaned back against the pillow, his fingers grasping at the air and his head filled.

Would you really leave? Just like that? More importantly, would he be able to tell if you left?

"Did you sleep?”

“They did not,” Changbin replied casually as he slammed a plastic bag on top of the table. Leaning down and proceeding to take out the takeaway food, he handed you a small box of food and looked up at Minho again. “They were up the whole night.”

“Did you seriously stay up the whole night?” Minho asked, brows furrowed at the unexpected visit by Changbin. He wanted to ask why he decided to tag along with you, but he figured it was much more important to know what happened with you last night.

“I did,” you sighed, shoving the chicken into your mouth and moaning at its delicious taste.

After realizing it would be almost impossible for you to stay awake on your own, which was such bullshit because you swore you used to have the ability to pull all-nighters like it was nothing, you ended up calling your last resort—Seo Changbin. Feeling bad that you had to wake him up in the middle of the night, you gave him the same explanation you gave Minho, and like your husband, he was extremely reluctant to accept it.

But you weren’t sleeping at all. And while Changbin had the suspicion that you were just taking this 'joke’ a little too far, he decided to humor you for the night and stayed up with you. And you spent the night over at his home, doing anything and everything to keep yourselves from falling asleep.

“Didn’t they tell you about the story?” Changbin asked, popping open a can of soda and looking at Minho as he drank. “I still don’t believe it but they were so hell-bent on not sleeping, I might just let them have it.”

“What–Changbin, I thought you believed me!” you whined, punching his behind and shoving him to the side.

“If I come over and tell you I’m not actually me and I came from another dimension, would you have believed me?” Changbin retorted, rubbing the spilled drink off his chin.

“I don’t have to because first of all, I met you for the first time at the shopping mall and I know nothing about you,” you pointed out. “Second of all, I am going through it right now. I am telling you, if I fall asleep, you will never see me again.”

“You don’t have proof that you aren’t you, [Name],” Minho chimed in, sighing in defeat as he slumped back against the bed.

Changbin pointed at you with wide eyes then, nodding in agreement. Sitting up from the couch, you turned your head to find Minho grimacing at you, and you heave a sigh. Proof. Where the hell would you find the proof to explain that you are who you are? Identity isn’t a tangible thing, no amount of paperwork can shape it for you.

“Look, I am telling the truth, alright? Or at least I am saying what I know,” you said as you grabbed a box and headed over to the bed. You handed the food to Minho, who refrained from throwing a mini tantrum the way he did before due to Changbin’s presence. Sitting down on the chair you had also pulled over, you sighed. “Who knows? Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t want to take the risk and sleep.”

You looked at Minho, your brows raising slowly to display a vulnerably honest expression. No malice was hidden behind your eyes, your gaze only directed at him. “I don’t want to leave you, Minho.”

His munching halted. He could feel a hint of unease at the bottom of his stomach, possibly due to what you said and the soft way you said it. As if you were afraid, cautious. Lowering his hand, he inhaled, kind of wishing his inner voice would kick him in the head and give him a little nudge to the right path.

But really, what more was there left to say, Minho? [Name] has said all they could.

“You are not going leave me,” he muttered.

You shook your head. “Not consciously, no.”

Minho pursed his lips. Think carefully; for him to convince himself of what you said, he has to nitpick the past and the present, like separating different colored peas with chopsticks.

Starting from the day you met him, you said you have no idea what his name is and you woke up in his bed even though he had this terrible rule of not sleeping together. That was one. Then you forgot about the marriage; you were surprised by the ring on your hand so much that you even asked him for the price. That was two. You went into his closet, even when you were banned from touching certain things that were his. That was three. These were all rules to be broken, but the old you never had the guts to do that. It didn’t make sense for the courage to suddenly appear.

Asking for a divorce and acting like you didn’t know it was arranged, forgetting that your parents were dead, completely unbothered by Yuna’s presence, suddenly knowing how to cook up a whole meal, eating lots of greasy food, profoundly cursing, being playful enough to give him nicknames and make bad jokes.

Aside from that, he could physically tell, now that he thought about it with a clearer head. You were less timid and much louder. Sure, you have your moments of tenderness, but overall you felt much more energized and much happier than before. It was a difference in your presence—you didn’t use to light up the room when you walk into one, but now all Minho could see was you whenever you come into his line of sight. And that was before he fell so in love with you.

The pieces were adding up to an unbelievable story. 

Minho looked up at Changbin, his gaze hardened. “Can you leave us alone for a moment?”

You widened your eyes at his troubled look, then you turned around and urged your best friend away as well, promising to find him later when your private talk ends. Changbin rolled his eyes and unwillingly left, and then it was finally just you and him.

Minho started without waiting. “Let me recap everything. You came here not knowing who I am or what this place is?”

“Yes,” you nodded, “does this mean you believe me now?”

“Wait–why didn’t you tell me before then?” he asked.

“I thought I would leave soon and return to where I came from. I didn’t expect to stay so long,” you said. “Also, drama taught me it is better to keep my identity hidden.”

Minho rolled his eyes. “So, you suspect that the way for you to go back is through a near-death experience?”

“And falling asleep later,” you hummed. “This one I learned out of instinct, but I’m sure it’s happened before on some show.”

Minho scoffed, “You can’t trust dramas all the time. They’re made up.”

“Yeah, but this feels too much like one for me to ignore it! I mean, look at this!” You pointed at him, smiling bitterly. “Look at you! I would have never been able to snatch a guy like you if I was back in my world. I was a huge loner. All I did was work and have fleeting crushes.”

He watched as you lowered your arm, your smile dimming significantly. “Honestly, I don’t even know if you love me or who used to be me.” You shrugged, not looking at him. “I am a new person to you now, right?”

Minho licked his lower lip. That problem has never crossed his mind before since it was so obvious that he loved you. His affection was never there, it wasn’t affection for you before. But then he started developing feelings of his own for you, steaming from a threatening turn where he might lose the care and obedience he was used to receiving. He just used to like being loved by 'you’, now he liked loving you; he liked the mutual feelings you two shared.

If all were true, then there was a whole world behind you he’s never known. You previous life, your friends, your fleeting crushes.

“Come here,” he said, patting the spot next to him.

You stood up from the chair and carefully climbed onto the spot next to him. You back hit against the side rail, preventing you from falling off, while Minho pushed his hand against your waist to keep you close to him. You leaned your head against his shoulder, a sigh leaving your lips quietly.

“You know, I thought you were funny, back when you first came here,” he said. “A little infuriating, yes, but amusing nonetheless.”

“That’s rich coming from you,” you commented, giggling when he cleared his throat and nudged the top of your head with his jaw.

“You could have totally snatched me up even if we are not in this setting,” he said. “You aren’t like other people. You treat me differently.”

Ah, and the iconic line finally decided to make its appearance. I was hoping it’d at least happen once for you to hear it because you would only be able to hear it from Minho’s mouth.

“What do you mean different? I treat you the same way everyone treats you!” you said, suppressing a chuckle. You weren’t sure if that line had boosted your ego but it sure did make you feel quite special, as cliché as it was, but honestly? As a society, we should all establish that clichés don’t matter.

“No, you were so casual and honest. I think you are the only person who has given me nicknames aside from my old friends back in high school.” He nodded with a shaky laugh. He patted your waist in a beckoning motion, seeming excited. “And you’re even more different than others now because you are the only person I love, in that special kind of way.”

“What are you, five? Special kind of way–that’s lame!” you exclaimed, laughter escaping in between. When you quieted down, you pressed yourself closer to him and looked up.

He only glanced down when he felt your lips at the side of his jaw. And he kissed you then, leaning his head down eagerly to capture your lips. You were careful with moving around, your hand going up to stop at the nape of his neck, rubbing comfortingly as your mouths danced with each other sensually.

This could never be enough. Minho wanted more than this, he thought as he tugged you closer to him, feeling your chest against his side. This could never be enough. He wanted to do more than kissing you in a hospital bed. He wanted to kiss you under the moon, to kiss you at home, to kiss you during a spontaneous snack run at midnight. He wanted to eat junk food and get emotional about fictional characters with you; he wanted to see you read books while he worked on the side.

Minho wants you with him, always.

You pulled away, gasping a little at how teary his eyes had suddenly become. You didn’t need to ask why. You could already tell. “Do you believe me now?”

“I can’t. I don’t want to.” Minho let out a shaky breath. “If I do then I will have to accept the fact that you might leave me soon.”

A sobbing noise spiked from the back of your throat as you reached up to peck his lips. “I will try my best to stay awake for as long as I can, Minho.”

He nodded, even though the fact alone broke him, the fact that you two have to settle for 'as long as you can.’

You jolted awake again, this time in Minho’s workroom with a new book held loose in your hands.

You kept the lights on for the sake of having an awake atmosphere even though you knew very well that would do nothing to help your exhaustion. Looking up from the couch, you found it hard to just squint at the clock hanging above your head, but you saw that it was long past midnight already.

You groaned, throwing your head back against the couch as you kicked your legs in frustration. You were officially three days in, all three days you went without a lick of sleep. And you put in lots and lots of effort to accomplish that, such as eating, doing yoga, shopping, scrolling the internet, and indulging yourself in many new shows filled with more than seven seasons of emotions.

It was painful. Your body felt heavy and your eye bags were probably getting bigger as you went on. Your mind was slow, you zone out too much and you kept dozing off. The only thing keeping you from falling into slumber was the sickening feeling of you astral projecting out of this place.

You didn’t want to cry though. Not only would it make you feel even more exhausted, but it would also make you feel weak, and you didn’t want to feel pathetic that way if you were doing this so you could stay with the love of your life.

Huffing out a groan, you got off the couch and left the room. You were much more familiar with the house by now, you could practically walk anywhere with your eyes closed as long as you knew where you started. You walked down the hallway and stopped abruptly before a pair of doors.

Minho’s closet was as you remembered it was. Black and white, very minimalistic, with clothing racks lining up against the wall. One thing has changed, though, he has opened up a space for clothes you got him from time to time. The ones you thought he would look good in and he occasionally wears around in the house when he didn’t need to be in formal attire.

You flipped through the clothes, remembering where each one of them came from with a smile. It was quite funny as well, to see how the clothes gradually grew to be more accurate in his size with the more you brought.

Pulling a sweater off the rack, you admired the soft material by kneading it between your fingers, then you hugged it close to your chest. You brought the fabric close to your face, inhaling the warm scent you’ve gotten used to smelling on your own clothes as well.

You never tried to look into what detergent the housekeeper used to wash your clothes, but you always thought it had an artificial smell of some type of flower you have never smelt the actual scent of before. It stopped mattering now that you have gotten so accustomed to the smell. It just has the scent of a home, and home is Minho for you.

You inhaled deeply and exhaled out to control your quickened breathing. A sob threatened to break out but you muffled it with his sweater, clinging onto it like it was your life-line.

It has been so difficult for you. Staying awake beyond your limit and trying to smile with everyone else; you couldn’t even tell Minho how you felt when he asked if you were okay because a part of you dreaded that he’d let you go. You felt alone, worrying and fearing for the day you would leave this place.

Standing in his closet and having his scent so close to you pushed you past the breaking point. All you knew was that you wanted to stay with Minho, and knowing how sleep would be inevitable made you cry.

The past three days have only been about that. You couldn’t afford to think about anything else.

You stood there alone and sobbed for as long as your body allowed. When you were done, you dropped the sweater on the rack and took off your own just so you would wear it.

It felt warm, big and warm, just like Minho.

You felt another sob bubbling up.

Minho could tell you have been crying when you arrived to visit him for the night.

It has become increasingly difficult for him not to notice how worn out you were, not to mention having to neglect it and pretend as if nothing was happening. Although you were the one who was so determined to keep yourself in this place, and of course, he too wanted you to stay here, he couldn’t help the gruesome guilt that rips through his veins whenever he sees that defeated state of yours.

You were dozing off on the couch again. He could somehow feel it whenever you’ve got your eyes closed, it was like a tingly sense that shoots down his spine. Even then, he always looks over to check if you are, and you were this time, your chin squished against the base of your palm with your elbow propped up against the armrest of the couch. You were dozing and waking, an indefinite cycle that would only stop until you reach the point of insanity, he supposed.

When this first happened, when he first saw you with your eyes closed and unresponsive, he used to have this knot in his stomach that would tighten harshly in a way that makes him hallucinate pain. The fear used to make him want to throw up, it used to make his face go red and his fist curl until the nails dig deep into his skin. It feigns an anxiety attack for him, and God knows how to properly handle those.

“[Name]!” he repeatedly called for you, feeling the knot inside of him release its chokehold slowly the longer he has to call for you. But you woke up eventually, your body falling to the side and the sudden impact yanking you out to sleepiness.

You looked around and heaved a sigh, whether it was a relieved one was uncertain to everyone, including you. Turning over to look at Minho, you tilted your head and asked, “Hey, what’s up?”

Your posture was terrible, like usual but much worse now that your shoulders were hunched all over and your neck cranked in longing to take a decent break. Your body was fidgety, a habit you picked up to keep yourself active in movement so you wouldn’t fall asleep. The dark circles under your eyes were starting to get more visible than the smile Minho had always paid more attention, and there was no light in your eyes, just a pit of shadowy doom.

Maybe you were trying your best, but you couldn’t look at him like you love him anymore; your eyes physically could not manifest the affection you felt.

This was his fault. Maybe it wasn’t, you certainly would never blame him for this, but Minho still felt like he was the one putting you through all of this. And he hated seeing you so out of place because you haven’t slept in days, and for what? To get a few more days with him? Honest to God, your mind was barely with him these days anyway.

Minho pursed his lips into a thin line, watching as you struggled to keep your eyes open. And he shook his head. “You should go to sleep. This is killing you.”

You were quick to turn down his suggestion. “No.”

“Go to sleep.”

“I don’t want to,” you said. “I don’t want to go.”

“Well, you are going to have to go either way so why not make that earlier?” he asked, raising his voice, causing your defenses to build up quickly.

You stood up from your seat, your eyes wide in a glare for the first time in days. “What is your problem, Minho? Do you want me to leave so bad?”

“I don’t–“ he breathed out a sigh, closing his eyes to keep his temper low now that yours have been shorter than usual. “I don’t want you to leave. If I get to choose, I will always choose to have you stay here with me, but look at yourself!”

You raised a brow. “What?”

“You’re tired, you are so tired. You have been crying, you eat slow, your temper is short, you barely react to anything anybody says. Even the nurse who came in to check up on me this afternoon asked if you are okay because you don’t look okay!” he exclaimed. Then, sucking in a breath as if gargling his words, he exhaled through a soft huff before he whispered, “I love you, [Name], so much. But not like this. Not when you are so miserable because of me.”

If his existence is causing you pain then he’d rather not have it. As selfish as he wanted to be, he would choose to let you go.

Your arms dropped to your side and you rolled your eyes up. You have told him the same thing before. God, you felt like one of those female leads who cry every single episode, it was so enraging. Everything you have sought to not become, you’ve become it.

Minho moved to the side on his bed, leaving you a spot, and he called out, “Come here.”

You looked back down at him, your sight blurred at the thought of what he meant to do. You were going to walk over, he would wrap you in his arms, and you would fall asleep to his warmth. He would still be here but you would be somewhere else. It would be quick, it would happen before you even know it.

“Come here, please?” he asked again, softly. “Let me hold you.”

You rubbed your eyes and moved over slowly. He helped you as you climbed onto the bed, snuggling up next to his side with your head laid on his shoulder and his arms securely around your torso. He squeezed your arm and breathed out a joking giggle, mentioning something about you getting chubbier and earning a hit on the chest in return.

His fingers shifted through your hair when you looked up at him, and he smiled down at you like nothing was going wrong. Eyeing his lips once, you didn’t hesitate to reach up for a long, loving kiss, one where your tears were mixed with the taste of his mouth.

When you pulled away, you said, “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be,” he said, shaking his head. “This is actually pretty funny. I am the one who got injured but here we are, crying over you leaving instead.”

You laughed silently, bringing him closer to you. Minho has steady breathing but his heart beat quickly. It rattled against your ears, reminding you that he was as nervous as you were about losing each other. Your senses were shutting down slowly, ready to go into rest when you finally gain the sleep your body has been screaming at you to get.

“I’m sleepy, Minho,” you muttered, adjusting your head.

“I know. You can sleep, it’s okay,” Minho hummed. “You can go. I’m gonna be fine.”

You licked your lower lip, the dryness giving you a sticky sensation. “Love them as much as you love me, alright?”

He couldn’t do that. But he wouldn’t tell you, he wanted you to go without any troubles lingering in your head. He wanted you to leave happily, or as happy as you could be.

Kissing your forehead, he felt your breathing ease up. His hand rubbed your back soothingly as he asked, “Will you remember that I love you?”

You didn’t answer.

Minho stirred uncomfortably in the single hospital bed. As his sense slowly returned to him, he tightened his grip on you, keeping you from falling off. It was nighttime outside, and he supposed a nurse dropped by and turned the lights off when he saw you both sleeping. He could barely remember what happened before he was knocked out.

You shifted slightly by him, head nuzzling against his chest before looking up to find the owner of the body you were cuddling.

“[Name]?” Minho called.

The person jolted from their place. Feet landing coldly on the floor, they fixed their hair and took a wide step away from the bed. “Minho! I’m sorry!” 

His heart dropped. There was his answer: he could tell.

Same face. Same body. Same voice. 

Not you.

Your eyes snapped open and you groaned at the pain oozing at your side. What the hell happened? You could see that you were back in your room, which was weird because the last time you checked, you were on your way to work. You remembered waking up late and rushing out of your apartment, and then everything simply went blank from there.

“Oh, you’re awake! I thought you died or something!”

You sat up on your bed and furrowed your brows at your brown-haired friend. Rubbing your eyes, you yawned and scanned your room, taking in its unfamiliarity with intense suspicion before you turned back to your smiley friend and asked, “Did you move my shit?”

“I just got here like five minutes ago after your mom called me,” he deadpanned. “I was cooking you chicken porridge! She said you blacked out and slept for three days straight, you sleepyhead!”

“Three days–Chan what?” You got off your bed and headed over to your desk where your phone was. You weren’t sure why you needed to check the time, it held no significance to how you were in deep trouble with your boss for ditching work for three days. “Why did no one wake me?”

He handed you a glass of water first, seeing how frantic you appeared right after waking up in the middle of the day. You received it—snatched it—and quickly gulped down the liquid, feeling a sense of relief rush through you when the water hit your throat.

“We tried but you were knocked out cold.” He shrugged. “If you are worried about work, don’t. I talked to our manager for you already. I even exaggerated the part where you almost got in a car crash and died so you needed time to recover from it.”

The water spilled from the glass when you choked in shock. Your brows furrowed harshly as you pulled the glass away, causing more water to flow out of the cup, and you yelled at Chan, “What? I almost got in a car crash?”

He gave you a slow laugh, more concerned than annoyed that you’ve made a mess and yelled at him in the past five seconds. “You almost got hit by a car the other day when you left for work. You were looking at your phone and not paying attention. I had to pull you away from the road! Did you forget all of that?”

You placed the glass of water down on your desk, rubbing your mouth with your forearm harshly. As you brought your hand closer to your mouth, a painful scratch eliciting a yelp from you. Moving your hand away from your face, your eyes trailed up your arm and they widened when you saw the diamond ring located on your fourth finger. You cursed out loud, gaining Chan’s attention, and when his eyes moved towards what you were looking, he too mirrored your confused look.

“What is this!” you asked, looking at him.

“What is what–woah! Did you drunk buy this?” he asked, moving closer to examine the ring on your hand. “You need to return it. You’re crazy. You can’t afford this!”

“I know I can’t afford this,” you exclaimed, glaring at him in defeat. “But I swear I don’t remember ever buying this! Did you see me wearing this when I almost got hit by a car?”

Chan paused for a moment to think. He hadn’t really noticed back then, he was too busy trying to keep your phone-obsessed ass from dying. But if you didn’t have it back then, there should be no way for you to have it now. You have been bedridden, you could not have possibly gotten drunk within the last couple of days, and you would never buy a ring like that when you were sober.

“Did you steal it from someone?” he suggested, feeling the wrath of your impatience as he stepped away from you in precaution. “Oh but you couldn’t–“ 

“No! I don’t know where this ring came from, Chan,” you exclaimed, showing him your hands and grimacing at how perfectly it fit around your finger. “Also, can’t you humor the idea that maybe someone proposed to me?”

“Someone with the money to buy that ring? Uh, no,” he said honestly, putting his hands on his hips in a comical way.

Brushing him off, you slumped back onto your bed with your arm covering your eye. “Whatever. I’ll find out where I got it from somehow.”

“Or you can sell it,” Chan suggested.

You chuckled at the thought. Imagine the amount of money you could get from selling that ring. You did not know about diamonds but you could tell when one looks expensive. Bringing your hand up above your face, you shifted your hand to observe the ring more carefully. A weird sense of comfort rushed through you, making you relax further into your mattress. Coming after the comfort was a very bad sense of nostalgia, one that makes your heart ache for something you couldn’t remember.

“Actually, maybe I’ll keep it,” you muttered, eyes hazy the more you stared at the ring. “I think I want to keep it.”

“Okay.” Chan shrugged at the side. Moving over to your desk, he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Are you gonna be okay? I need to go back to work. Lunch is over for me already.”

“Thank you,” you hummed from the bed, nodding. “I’ll come back to work as soon as I can.” 

“Before you get fired, at least.” He eyed you carefully. You laid motionless on your bed, completely out of it. He nudged your feet with his own to catch your attention. “Are you sure you’re fine?”

“I am fine, Chan.” You rolled your eyes. “Stop nagging.”

He scoffed, but ultimately his voice was soft when he spoke, “I just want to make sure you are okay, alright?”

The nostalgia hit like a rush this time and you held down a flinch. For some reason, Chan didn’t sound so much like him when he said that, but you couldn’t tell whose voice that was. When you turned your head to look at him, your gaze shifted in rapid sequences, like frames changing on a television screen. Chan’s silhouette shifted in blurry motion into a man of slightly smaller but more visibly muscular stature. You felt your body jolt in recognition. 

Recognition? Pause. This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

Let me rewind it. 

Chan scoffed, but ultimately his voice was soft when he spoke, “I just want to make sure you are okay.”

You sniffed away a potential sneeze, hearing Chan’s giggle from your ridiculous expression. Throwing your head back against your bed, you waved your hand at him. “Just go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” he said. “Call me if you need anything.”

You hummed loudly in response, not bothering to look up at him. When you heard the front door lock, you groaned out a frustrated sigh and turned to your side. It has been a weird couple of minutes; you almost got in a car crash but you forgot, you slept for three days and you had no idea, you got a diamond ring on your hand which you have no recollection of ever getting. 

You brought your hand up and frowned. The ring was heavy on your hand and it would most likely disrupt your sleep. But there was something else—the nostalgia that was lapping at your chest one wave after another. A feeling beyond your imagination, resting against your heart carefully yet it rattles you like nothing ever has.

“Where did you come from?” you whispered to the diamond ring sitting perfectly on your finger. 

You decided not to take it off.

Never in a million years did Minho think he’d end up relying on Changbin, but he has no other option due to knowing a shared secret. 

“How are you feeling?” Changbin asked after he plopped down on the study room couch. 

Scatters of paperwork piled on the table were deliberately placed messily to distract Minho from his worries. If his eyes were occupied, his mind may be too. Turning the chair, he eyed Changbin nonchalantly by the desk. “My spouse left me.”

“Not good. Noted!” Changbin exclaimed with a single clap of his hands. He ended up awkwardly rubbing them as they laid themselves on his thighs. 

Silence emerged, much like every other time they’ve hung out together. If he could call it anything different, Changbin would consider these moments more mandatory emotional check-ups than hanging out with good friends. Not only was Minho not a good friend, not even with such a golden opportunity, but Minho was never in the mood for anything anymore. In some ways, he has reverted to his grumpy personality, only this time he knew how to be nice about it. He learned it from you. 

“Do you think they’ll ever come back?” 

Changbin looked up from his fiddling thumbs. Minho’s thousand-yard stare burnt holes through the ceiling, but Changbin wasn’t sure if he was thinking about the particular question he voiced. He’s done his fair share of deep-diving about parallel universes and whatnot. Understanding the theories was one thing; accepting that it has been carried out was another.

It still felt impossible. Changbin was holding onto the fact that you have never jumped anywhere, and it was a figment of your imagination that you somehow could portray excellently. 

A character change only takes a good performer or someone fully convinced they’re somebody else. 

The light glimmered as if to add glamour to the rigid atmosphere. Changbin let his neck rest on the back of the couch, and he shrugged. “If they do, you’ll be the first person they look for.”

Light returned to Minho’s eyes. He dreamt about that day. He wondered how it would go. Perhaps seamlessly as the day you first arrived. There won’t be chances of him missing your presence; not only would you make yourself seen, but he was more than sure he would know. A radar within himself would begin blaring sirens—he would just know if you were around again. And it would be a typical day. You would be at home, and he would return home. You would have dinner, you would go to bed together. 

It would finally be a normal day when you come back. 

For now, the glimmer in his eyes fades.

Weeks have passed with the same weight on your shoulders. You have come around to learn how to ignore it. You have learned to distract yourself from it. You work, hang out with people, and entertain yourself with the media. But even then, the grave mistake you made to not take that promise ring off your finger kept reminding you of the shaking sentiment that often shines at the end of the day.

You have looked through different online shops to find out where you could have gotten the ring from. It was a long stretch. You knew it would take ages to find the actual shop, but the promise of long-term confusion somehow assured you that you would have an excuse to keep it with you longer.

It has been weeks, though, and your hope was thinning. You could not find any matches, even after you personally headed over to the shops and asked the staff to take a closer look. You even went so far as to search for the lesser-known brands that would still make rings with diamonds as sparkly and extravagant as the one you got. Nothing, it was like the ring was custom-made, and that made you feel worse about having it.

It must have been really important to the owner, you reckon. It should not be in your hands.

“I feel bad for keeping it,” you spoke to the phone, where Chan sighed on the other side, most likely from irritation. The ring was all you talked about these weeks, aside from occasional work problems and drunken confessions you weren’t afraid to make to him.

“Then sell it.”

“But I don’t want to sell it.”

“Then what do you want to do? I keep giving you suggestions, and you keep shooting me down,” he complained with a helpless whine.

“I want you to tell me what to do!” you exclaimed.

“I say sell it,” he said.

“I don’t want to sell it.”

“I’m hanging up. I can’t take this abuse anymore,” Chan threatened with a yell of frustration. You could imagine him leaning against his chair and pushing it away from his desk, his eyes squinted into moon-shaped smiles, and his nose scrunched up in defeat.

“It’s just… this stupid ring is giving me weird vibes!” You stopped before the road and glanced down at the ring. “I feel sad but also happy when I look at it! Like some sort of deja vu!”

“It’s deja vu. Everyone feels like once in a while,” he said. “Maybe it’s not as serious as you think it is.”

You frowned. Chan was no help at all. From your peripheral vision, you could see that people had started to cross the street, so you followed suit quickly, intending to not block the road and be yelled at by some caffeine-deprived stranger who hadn’t gotten a lick of sleep yet.

“Woah! Hey! Watch the road!”

You snapped your head up. Your eyes first caught the red traffic light, and you gasped. You swore you saw someone move next to you; you should have looked before crossing the road. Turning around and planning to head back to the pedestrian street as it was a shorter distance than moving across the road thoroughly, you could only take one step before honks blared at your ears.

A stranger reached their hand out to grab a fistful of your shirt so they could yank you back to safety. The pull was strong and panicky, like back when you were younger, how your mother would smack you after you did something wrong, but much harder than that. Your gaze wobbled when your head hit a slight whiplash at the force, the sky welcoming your view. Tears unnaturally welled in your eyes as your hands waited for the impact of the ground. 

“No,” you whispered, the blur of a car crash disappearing from your memories. “Minho–“

I will be scratching that off. Let me rewind. 

“Woah! Hey! Watch the road!”

You snapped your head up. Your eyes first caught the red traffic light, and you gasped. You swore you saw someone move next to you; you should have looked before crossing the road. Turning around and planning to head back to the pedestrian street, as it was a shorter distance than moving across the road thoroughly, you could only take one step before the sight of incoming cars made you freeze. 

A stranger reached their hand out to—

Uh, I'm also scratching that off. This is wrong. Nothing happens to you.

How did you manage to get yourself stuck in a near-death situation twice in a row? What is this? Is it some kind of manifestation theory? It's made up.

Let me rewind.

“Woah! Hey! Watch the road!”

You jumped out of the way with a scream, missing the car by a few inches. It scraped past you, causing your body to fall back. Instead of catching yourself in the slow fall, you let your body flail about in the air as more cars slowly closed the distance between themselves and you. Pedestrians standing on the road couldn’t do anything out of sheer intimidation, born from the cars speeding toward you. You looked toward where the honking came from.

Alright, clearly, you are unknowingly in a disagreement with me. I have seen this in prior experiments. Something that involves the biological lack of freedom when your body moves toward what you truly desire? I have seen that before.

You will not hinder this experiment because of it. I am rewinding further.

“It’s deja vu. Everyone feels like once in a while. Maybe it’s not as serious as you think it is,” Chan said. “Look, you’ve been thinking about this too much. How about we go get a drink tonight? 

“I don’t know, Chan,” you muttered with a sigh. “I’ve been feeling really depressed lately.”

“I’m surprised you don’t think I can tell,” he said. “How about this–I’ll buy some drinks, and we’ll hang out at yours. Beats heading outside, right?”

You closed your eyes. That could work. One of the biggest reasons the outside was so unappealing was that you had to step into it. Even now, with the sun shining on your head, you’re quickening your pace to go home.

If Chan was willing to go through the trouble of paying for drinks and hauling them to your apartment, you’ve got no complaints. It might also be an excellent way to forget about this whole deja vu situation.

“Deal,” you confirmed with a soft smile. “I’ll see you tonight, then?”

Chan giggled from the other side, but he didn’t say anything. 

“Woah! Hey! Watch the road!”

The sequence repeats itself. I swore I scratched that off the document.

You snapped your head up from looking at the ground. Your eyes first caught the red traffic light, and you gasped. You swore you saw someone move next to you—stop! I

can’t keep doing this. It’s your muscle memory, isn’t it? That damn biological manifestation theory is real.

Turning around and planning to head back to the pedestrian street as it was a shorter distance than moving across the road entirely, you could only take one step before honks blared at your ears—you are suicidal. You are suicidal over a man your mind cannot begin to make out the silhouette of.

It's pathetic. Stop wasting my time.

You could see the cars coming, but your feet wouldn’t move. Your eyes stared through the danger into a beacon laid far away, the illusion of a man’s face you should have forgotten, and I know for a fact that you weren't supposed to acknowledge you have forgotten someone.

His name echoed silently through your mind, but his warmth remained on your body, in the shape of your arms and the weight on your finger. 

I insult you. I say you cannot remember his silhouette, and the next second, your spite draws a fraction of him in your mind. Or perhaps it wasn't spite but rather love? Is this the lesson you are teaching me? That love and spite are identical? That love stands beyond the mind and the body as its own concept?

You didn't choose to remember, yet you do. Returning to your true home was instinctive, and I’m afraid it is time for me to admit that I have no power to stop you.

Love goes beyond even me. Suppose that's a good lesson to learn.

“Woah! Hey! Watch the road!”

You snapped your head up. Your eyes first caught the red traffic light, and you gasped. You swore you saw someone move next to you; you should have looked before crossing the road. Turning around and planning to head back to the pedestrian street, as it was a shorter distance than moving across the road, you could only take one step before honks blared at your ears. Scared, your knees gave away, and you fell backward.

The screams of others and the urgent car honks were blocked out from your ears. You turned your head to the side and saw a truck running down the road towards you. This one would kill you, you would close your eyes, and you would leave this place. Your lips quirked uncontrollably. 

You would go back to him.

The mesh curtains stayed the same, useless against the sun but pretty with it. The bedsheet was as you felt it the first time, soft and silky yet thick and warm, the ones that make you sleep like you were in a goddamn coma. And Minho was the same as you last remembered seeing him—fluttery lashes, soft brown locks, and naturally pouty lips.

You remembered. 

You pursed your lips into a tight smile to keep a laughing sob from bubbling up your throat. Staring at him, you realize he made you feel the same as you last remembered, and immeasurable affection pulled at your fingertips, longing for a touch of his gentle skin and to feel him close to you. And you did, unapologetically, caressed his face with the back of your fingers.

Perhaps it was a deliberate plan to wake him up, but you wouldn’t admit that to yourself.

Minho stirred in his sleep at the touch. His brows furrowed before he opened his eyes, and when he saw you, his frown only deepened. You (or, well, ‘you’) have never tried to attempt this before, nor has he ever asked for love from them. His mind was occupied by somebody else, someone he thought would never come back to him ever again. Feeling this, having his cheek tenderly stroked in the morning, was surprising and weird.

“Hey, Minho,” you whispered, pinching his cheek slightly.

A shiver so strong it felt like a lightning zap ran down his body. His eyes widened slowly in recognition. He would know. He would just know. Through looking at you, through the feeling of your skin, through the way you space out your words, through the way you control your tone, through the way his ears react to your voice, through everything. He would know. He would be the first to know. 

His eyes moved across your features. You looked the same as he had always seen you, before and after you left. But there was one defining difference he could make: the ring on your hand wasn’t there before. You had taken it with you after you left this place, and now it’s back. 

“[Name],” he croaked out, his hand reaching out to touch your shoulder, gripping it gently.

“I’m home.” You nodded with a smile. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you I’ll be late.”

The tears flow freely down his cheeks. It has been extremely difficult for him to revert to his usual lifestyle and pretend to be in love again. He had tried to bring himself to like ‘you,’ but it was useless. They simply felt different despite looking the same as you. 

He had missed your stupid jokes, the way you could come back home with bags of clothes he rarely has the chance to wear, and the food you cook. The little recurring moments he loved with you, he replayed them every night in the room and didn’t dare to allow himself to forget you.

You took the initiative and moved closer to him. Your palm was flat against his cheek now, and after you lovingly nudged the tip of your noses together, you leaned in to give him a long-awaited kiss. He melted against you, against your lips and your hand, with desperation in each curve of his mouth. He felt like he couldn’t let go. He knew he couldn’t let you go this time, never again.

Reluctantly pulling away, your dazed eyes stared right back into his. You touched his face again, smiling. Minho cupped your hand in his, pressing his forehead against yours with a light whisper, “Do you remember who I am?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

“Who am I?”

The sun shone from outside, casting a ray of warmth at an empty ring box located at the corner of the desk.

“You are Lee Minho,” you said, giving his lips a peck. “You are my husband.”

And you remembered that he told you he loves you, just as you love him.  

[thebadboyfanclub]

You Are No Dragon (Aemond x Aegon x Reader)

This was challenging cause I had to correlating a lot of scenes in it but I hope I succeeded your expectations

“You are no dragon, you are the flame itself”

Daemon always liked to tease his eldest daughter (y/n), she was the result of Daemons and Laenas wedding night, “the siren princess” as the small folk sang for the princesses alluring nature, one stare to her dark lavender hues you would think you were engulfed by the ocean, slowly luring you in to drown you.

The princesses stubbornness knew no ends, she had inherited her fathers temper as well, the family would often reminisce to the distasteful reaction of (y/n) grabbing the queen by the hair when she pulled a dagger to threaten Rhaenyra after her mothers burial, (y/n) was not mad over the action she just found it disrespectful to turn such a grim event to a humiliation of their house.

“I will not stand for this, you are all acting like fools! Aemond lost an eye! I lost my fucking mother and I am exhausted! can we please just go to bed!”

She had yelled when she stood in between the queen and the princess, Daemon was the only one that approached his daughter while the others held their breath at the sight of the deranged girl who had the guts to do such an act.

“Come along my blood, you should rest”

-

“Well, I would say it is good to be back but I would be lying”

“Come on (y/n) we haven’t been back to kings landing for so long I am sure you will find something to keep yourself entertained”

Just like Gods had planned this particular moment, when Jace finished his sentence Aemond appeared from the main door of the red keep, it was bad enough to not have anyone welcome the future heir to the throne but to send the second son by himself was even worst.

(Y/n) did not mind though, watching Aemond walk down the stairs until he stood right ahead of the family had gained her attention, he was quite taller, broad shoulders and long silver locks, the eyepatch was her favourite part of him as part of the scar escaped from the accessory he had chosen to conceal it.

“My mother the queen apologises for not being able to welcome you back to the red keep, she has send me to escort you to your chambers”

“Tell your mother that sending her little pup-“

“Father please be polite I am sure prince Aemond has the best intentions, isn’t that right my prince?”

(Y/n) interrupted her father. Daemon knew his daughter like the back of his hand, she was the blood of his blood, she acted like him ever since he could remember and he took pride in that, his daughter was no lady, she was a true Targaryen warrior.

Aemond allowed his eyes to explore the princess, he had not seen her since he lost his eye, he had prayed to the seven that the inappropriate feelings that haunted him since he was a young kid had been buried, it only took one glance from her to make Aemonds heart beat like he had ran miles.

“Follow me please”

-

“Oh gods my apologies, I lost track of time while I was taking my bath”

(Y/n) hadn’t lost track of time, she just did not want to admit that she did not like any of her dresses so she alternate one of them, the result was good enough although the initial target was Aemond her goal swayed when she laid eyes at the oldest son, Aegon.

“Prince Aegon, how you’ve grown”

“I can say the same about you”

Aegon replied when his eyes scanned the princess and her choice of a gown, she had done it intentionally there was no doubt in his mind about that, on the contrary it pleased him to see his mothers disapproving eyes land on someone else for a chance.

“Glad you could join us my flame”

Daemon shared a smirk with his daughter to which she mirrored, father and daughter would often sense that words were unnecessary, their eyes said enough for them to understand.

The princess has come of age it was normal for a lady to start being interested in the opposite gender, Daemon would never force his daughter with wedlock unless she wished for it nor bring her shame in wanting to be desired because some pious septa said ladies should be unorgasmic shells of humans that there only purpose was to breed. Idiotic words spread by men who could never bed a woman so they decided to make them suffer by inventing demons and call it a sin when a woman feels pleasure.

As the supper went by rather smoothly (y/n) could not help but notice Aemond gawking at her, the honourable prince took pride in his ways, he was never interested in bedding women or chasing around whores, a man of discipline was now catching himself wondering what the princesses lips felt like as they were stained by the red wine she drank.

“A word before you leave?”

“Of course father”

One by one left the dinner table clearing the room for them to have some privacy, Daemon even waited for the servants to finish clearing the table until he spoke to his daughter.

“Aegon did not take his eyes off you”

“I could feel him burning holes against my skin”

“You noticed? I thought you were busy eye fucking the one eyed prince”

“Father I-“

“You do not have to lie to me, you are my blood I understand a girl your age raises questions, so who will answer those questions Aemond or Aegon?”

“I seem to have a little bit of trouble deciding”

“Greedy little thing, when I was younger my father put a few swords on the table and asked me to pick one, all of them beautiful and unique in their own way, I asked my father if I could practise with a different one everyday to help me make my decision”

“And what if… none of them were your final pick?”

“Good question, I hated all of them so I snuck into my fathers room and stole dark sister”

“Father are you suggesting-“

“I am not suggesting anything we are just discussing about… swords, you are young and full of life, don’t waste your stamina on one sword”

-

“Princess (y/n)?”

“Did I wake you my prince?”

“No I was just reading, is there something wrong”

“I could not find sleep, I was hoping if you could keep me company”

Aemond withheld his tongue, he simply moved to the side to signal permission of entering to the princess. A faint mischievous smile decorated her lips once she entered, the fire was doing wonders for the heat of the chamber, (y/n) was thankful for that since her choice of a nightgown was for the summer, if her visit went as she had planned she wouldn’t need it so it did not matter to her.

“Please have a seat”

“What were you reading?”

“A book of Aegon the conquerors”

“Isn’t that written in high Valyrian”

“I like to… practise”

Aemond lost composure fora quick second when he found the princess getting comfortable in his bed, he had dreamed of her in his bed, naked in between the sheets while he held her close, he could almost taste her as he wetted his lips with his tongue.

“I would love to listen to you read, why don’t you join me here with your book?”

Aemond hesitated at the request, she was toying with him for her entertainment, she was stepping in a territory that Aemond had been trying to escape almost all his life. A strange power overtook him and he found himself taking big steps to his bed and almost attack her lips with his, he made himself comfortable on top of her as the kiss deepened, (y/n) let out a small moan that to the princes ears it sounded like an Angel singing.

“Do you still want me to read to you?”

“I think I know another way to put your tongue in good use”

The urge Aemond possessed was immense, a tender lover that took care of the princess, worshipping every inch of her naked body decorating it with his kisses and gracing it with his soft touch.

(Y/n) rode him to the world of euphoria, Aemond was a mess of a man under her power, crumbling with every move and begging her to keep going, to Aemond a siren was nowhere near her, (y/n) reminded him of the dark tales of a succubus that fed off the energy of men during the act, a death so sweet was worth it to him, if his last memory was her face scrunch up from pleasure as the light of the fireplace licked her presence it would enough for him to die a happy man.

When she fell on top of him as the orgasm washed off her Aemond traced her back making goosebumps that caused her to shiver, all that could be heard was the panting of the couple that had worked on one another like it was their last day.

“Stay the night”

“You know I cannot do that, the servants will knock on the door before I can escape”

“Since when does the princess care about gossip”

“That i do not care about gossip does not imply I feed into it on a silver platter”

“Will you visit me again?”

“Mayhaps, rest well my prince”

-

“Prince Aegon”

“Missed me?”

“Not necessarily”

“I would say I am wounded however you probably feel like that because I have not given you something to miss”

“Yes you may come in, get comfortable”

She mumbled after prince Aegon had already taken the liberty to strut in her chamber like he owned it, well he kind of did since she was a “guest” in the castle that he lived permanently.

Aegon stopped when he reached (y/n)s vanity stand to pick up her perfume and spray some in the air to take a big whiff.

“That smell”

“If you are interested I can ask my lady in waiting to purchase a bottle for you”

“No I would rather get the scent off of you dear (y/n)”

“For a man with your reputation I never would have thought you were to shy to say things directly”

Aegon left the bottle back in its spot when he heard her steps closing in on him, his back still against her still that did not discourage (y/n) from placing her hands around the mans torso and rest her chin on his shoulder, he could recognise that look she had on her face, the big doe eyes with a hint of lust, it drove him insane to see her so… willing.

He broke free from her grip so he can face her as he leaned with his hands to support himself against the wooden stand.

“You haven’t gotten out of your room today”

“I wasn’t feeling well”

“It’s not honourable to lie”

“It’s not honourable to undress a lady with your hungry eyes”

Aegon chuckled at her quick tongue, if she was a whore she wouldn’t even wear that at the sight of a Targaryen prince, if she was a lady at court she wouldn’t have even allowed him in the room and if he even made it in she would stutter and blush with any word, (y/n) was a strong opponent that mirrored her partners actions, an interesting challenge.

“You are right, take off your nightgown”

With one slight slip from the strap on her right shoulder the dress was on the floor, neither of them moved a muscle, a stand off to see who will cave first as the princess stood naked per the princes request.

They moved in unison as they met in the middle and basically fell into each others arms for a kiss, Aemond was tender, Aegon was powerful, before she could realise it he had lifted her off the floor and forced her back to clash to the wall making her groan from the impact, Aegon did not care about hurting her at the moment and (y/n) did not care about linen when she teared apart the white blouse he was wearing to expose his chest, Aegon let his trousers go down on his ankles and soon enough (y/n) took in a sharp breath from the first pump.

Bites scattered along her shoulders from Aegons sexual nature was rough and animalistic, (y/n) responded with living bloody scratches on his back to hold on to him since she was basically in the air. (Y/n) felt like she was on the moon, Aegons dirty words that he whispered in her ear brought more moans, he went in a fast pace gripping on to her chin to force her to look at him as she came undone in his arms, her one hand was locked in Aegons silver locks to bring him closer so she can bite down on his lip as the prince followed her to reaching his high.

“I guess the rumours are true for your abilities my prince”

“I have to say the mystery that followed you made it even more interesting (y/n)”

“You must go”

“I am not done with you”

“I am, mayhaps we can circle back on this tomorrow”

-

What she did not let the two princes know was that (y/n) did not plan on staying for long, on the morrow (y/n) stood next to her dragon to fly back to dragon stone with her family close by.

“(Y/n)!”

The princess’s called for her in one voice, their reaction to hearing one another call out for her is to share a look for confusion with one another as they approached her. (Y/n) smiled at the scene of them running like little dogs behind her, so it was true that the power of the woman held no limit.

“Prince Aegon and prince Aemond, came to say goodbye”

“You are leaving? You never spoke of departing so soon”

“I do not want to overstay my welcome”

She kept her cool to reply to prince Aemond who was clearly dumbfounded at her leaving the red keep, ever since the night they slept together Aemond had grown obsessed, if he could he would have ripped his brain out to stop the thoughts of her on top of him flooding in at all hours of the day, prohibiting him from focusing on anything.

“You told me I would see you tonight”

“I said we might see each other prince Aegon I did not give you my word”

“Why would you see each other?”

“Why are you asking if she is leaving?”

“Let us not cause a scene now, it is better we depart with fond memories of one another”

“Fond memories? Is that what a whore calls it now when she fucks her way around the castle?”

(Y/n) laughed at Aemonds burst of emotion, his harsh words slipped past the princess only to feed her ego, seeing the princes in shambles over her ready to go at each others throats was a wonderful scenario no one would witness.

“One moment, father come over you want to listen to this”

“No don’t”

“Why not? My father would love to hear what you have to say and trust me even if your seven themselves graced the dragon pit they could not save your cocks”

(Y/n) stopped her sentence for a brief moment so she can place one of her hands on Aemonds cheek in endearment before she gave it a small smack like he was a child.

“Such a pity, I thoroughly enjoyed your cock”

“What seems to be the problem my blood?”

“The princes here would like to share a few thoughts they have about me, what was the word you used again dear Aemond?”

“Yes, what was the word you used to describe my daughter?”

Requests are open!

[les-pompiers118]

Ghosts

9-1-1 ficlet | 2x01 fix-it | 1.6K words | rated Teen for language

Now posted on AO3

I’ve always kind of wished that Maddie and Buck reunited at the fire station rather than Abby’s apartment (partly because that shower scene gives me secondhand embarrassment hives, if I’m honest). @911hiatus’ What Canon? Wednesdays gave me the opportunity to imagine how that might have played out, as seen through Chimney’s eyes. I’ve never written his POV before, so I hope I’ve done him justice here. Enjoy!

The first time Chimney sees her, it’s out of the corner of his eye as he’s walking through the dimmed apparatus bay on his way back to the loft. It’s late and he’s tired, so he thinks his mind might be playing tricks with the shadows between the rigs. But just in case it isn’t, he backtracks a few steps and looks again. Nope, there really is a woman standing there—a beautiful woman.

She waits for him to approach her, not far from the doors, and the closer he gets the more lovely she is. Petite, with a heart-shaped face, large dark eyes, and long hair. She’s got her arms wrapped tightly around herself, and the cuffs of her cardigan are clutched in her fists. Chimney dons his best, most reassuring smile.

“May I help you?”

“Yes, I’m looking for someone who works here, I think. Evan Buckley?”

That goddamn kid. Of course it’s about him. This angel is probably one of his rando Tinder dates who got her hopes up, and now she’s come back to haunt him. Chimney tries not to let his disappointment show.

“Um, yeah, he’s upstairs, I believe.”

The lady makes a soft cry of relief when he says it—okay, dramatic, Chimney thinks—and she eagerly follows him upstairs.

“Hey, Buck,” he calls as they near the loft. “You have a visitor.”

They reach the top just as Buck gets up from the couch, where he was playing video games with Hen. He looks shocked when he sees her—totally shocked. Mouth hanging open and everything. Chimney steps back to watch the situation unfold. Yup, it’s gonna be interesting.

“Maddie?”

“Hi,” she answers in a choked voice, smiling.

Buck lopes across the room without another word and wraps her in a hug. He doesn’t let go.

Over on the couch, Hen catches Chimney’s eye; he shrugs in reply. Bobby’s looking on with a disapproving expression, which Chimney can hardly blame him for, because having Buck’s old girlfriends turn up at work is probably something Cap would like to discourage.

“What are you doing here?” Buck finally asks, still in disbelief. He pulls back but keeps his hands on the woman’s shoulders. “And how did you know where to find me?”

She gives him another wobbly smile. “I was in town and I wanted to see you. First I went to the address the Christmas cards keep coming from, but the guy said you’d moved out. And then I remembered the number of your firehouse from the picture you sent, so I thought I’d try here. Look at you, all grown up and official!”

She tugs on the front of his uniform, but Buck doesn’t play along.

“Wait, so you did get those Christmas cards.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t been in touch much lately.”

By the way she brushes off Buck’s question so lightly, Chimney isn’t convinced she’s all that sorry.

Buck lets his arms drop. “Three years, Maddie. I haven’t heard from you in three years.”

“Yeah, I know. And it’s not what I wanted.”

“Where is Doug?”

Her cheerfulness falters for a moment, then she lifts her chin. “Don’t know, don’t care.”

“You left him?” Buck asks incredulously.

She nods. “Finally.”

Chimney halts his tracks where he’s edging around the room to get to Hen. Well, this is unexpected. She was with someone else and now she’s running back to Buck, of all people?

“Jesus fucking Christ, Maddie. What took you so long?”

Bobby clears his throat, and Chimney thinks he’s about to cut the conversation short or at least tell Buck off for swearing, but he does neither.

“Buck, would you like to introduce us to your friend?”

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Buck says, startling as if he just remembered everyone else in the room exists. He wraps one arm around the woman’s shoulders and draws her further into the loft. “Maddie, this is my team. Everyone, this is Maddie. My big sister.”

Oh.

“Big sister?” Hen echoes faintly.

Well that changes things. Like, everything. Chimney looks between their faces, trying to spot a family resemblance. There isn't much of one, at first glance. Maybe a little around the nose and chin, if you squint.

Bobby comes over immediately to shake Maddie’s hand and introduce himself. Buck does the honors for the other firefighters who gather round to meet her. Only their new probie, Eddie, hangs back—understandably, since Buck’s been a dick to him all shift.

Chimney is the last one to meet Maddie, officially this time. “Howard Han, at your service. But everyone here calls me Chimney.”

Maddie’s face brightens—or rather, Chimney would like to believe it does. “Chimney? That sounds like a nickname with a story behind it.”

“It is, indeed.”

Hen jumps in before Chimney can go on (and probably saves him from making a fool of himself by telling a long-winded story to a woman he’s just met). “So, Maddie, what brings you to L.A.? Business or pleasure?”

“Um, not business. I’m an ER nurse, and we don’t really get to take business trips. I’m here to visit Evan.” Maddie’s eyes dart over to Buck, then back to Hen. “For a few days. I’m just passing through, actually.”

“But—” Buck starts to object.

Maddie cuts him off. “And I should probably let you get back to work, huh? It was nice to meet you all. Evan, maybe you can walk me out to my car?”

Buck stays silent for a few seconds, looking for all the world like Christmas has been canceled. He recovers quickly though, shifting back into his usual, eager-to-please self. “Hey, do you need a place to stay?”

“I was just going to get a hotel room. It’s fine.”

“No, you should stay with me. I’ve got plenty of room,” Buck tells her as they make their way towards the stairs. “I’m looking after my girlfriend’s place while she’s in Europe…”

Bobby comes over to stand with Chimney and Hen once Buck’s out of sight.

“Did you guys know he had a sister?” Hen asks.

Bobby nods. “He mentioned her to me once.”

“He never talks about his family,” Chimney observes. “Which is strange, since he’s always happy to share everything else about his life.”

Hen scoffs. “More than we want to hear, usually.”

“That’s probably a sign he doesn’t want to talk about it,” Bobby points out.

“I thought maybe we’d get to meet his parents when he finished his probation, if they came out to celebrate the occasion,” Hen says. “I guess that didn’t happen.”

“I offered to have a little ceremony and a party here for his friends and family at the end of his probationary period. He didn’t want it. Said he didn’t need a fuss.”

Hen frowns over this new bit of information, and Chimney, too, finds that it doesn’t jive with his idea of Buck. He’s a guy who eats up firefighting rituals and lore like they're a bowl of his favorite flavor of ice cream.

It’s only a couple minutes before Buck returns and takes a seat at the table. He stays lost in his own thoughts for a while, until Bobby slides a cup of coffee across to him.

“So… That’s my sister,” Buck mumbles to no one in particular.

“It must be good to see her after so long,” Bobby says.

“Yeah. I’ve missed her.” Buck runs a hand over his mouth, looking troubled. “I’m really glad she’s here. And relieved she’s not there anymore.”

Joining them at the table, Chimney gives into his curiosity and ventures, “I'm guessing it was a bad relationship?”

“It was a bad husband. Maybe the worst kind,” Buck says darkly. “I dunno for sure, though. She always wanted me to stay out of it.”

“But you’ve been worried about her,” Bobby says gently. He doesn’t push when Buck won’t answer right away.

When he does, he still seems hesitant. Afraid of saying too much.

“These past three years, every time I got a call from an unknown number, I’ve been afraid it might be someone from back home calling about Maddie—to tell me that something happened with Doug, or with some crazy person in the ER. I’ve just had a bad feeling, you know?”

Hen, who has come over to stand behind Buck, squeezes his shoulders. “She’s here now. She’s safe.”

“Yes, she is.” Buck tilts his head back to give Hen a weak smile. “Now I just have to convince her to stay.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard, should it?” Chimney asks. “I mean, you’re here, right?”

With a sad sort of shrug, Buck says, “I’m not sure that’s enough of a reason for her.”

That night, Chimney stays up later than everyone except Eddie (who seems determined to be the last one to go to bed, due to either first-day overeagerness or first-night insomnia). As tired as he is, Chimney can’t stop thinking about Maddie and what she might have run away from. Now he also has to wonder what Buck was running from—because Buck’s not the type of person who’d leave someone he loves behind, especially if they might need him.

Everyone’s got a few ghosts in their pasts, Chimney muses as he stretches out on the couch. He takes one last look into the shadowy corners of the loft before closing his eyes. And you never see them coming when they decide to turn up.

[whatareyoudoingwithamaserati]

yessss, two friends showed me jennifers body a couple years ago! the movie deserves every single bit of hype it gets, i had so much fun, it was delicious!

(if you have more recs? 👀👀 I love literary/audio horror but ive been too... idk, scared? because i don't know what i like when it comes to visuals?)

LET’S GOOOOO!!! I put off watching Jennifer’s Body for so long because I was worried it would not live up to the hype but MAN was it worth it. They have been plaguing my thoughts ever since. I am especially a massive fan of the costume design because they NAILED that shit!!

Admittedly I’m more into horror movies than novels (it is . So hard to read these days) and podcasts have never caught my fancy, but it would feel wrong to not recommend sign here by Claudia Lux and the ever infamous American psycho by Bret Easton Ellis. I actually haven’t finished American psycho because it is a dense read but my god it’s a beautiful masterpiece of a book and I did not expect it to be as hilarious as it is

Movie wise I tend to jump all over the place and watch whatever catches my fancy so this is. Not a very cohesive rec list and not full of very many older homoerotic movies but. I plan to watch more when I can

First and foremost I am an absolute die hard fan of house of 1000 corpses. I cannot put into words how much I love it in all of its weirdness. It was made by rob zombie of living dead girl fame and you can TELL in the best of ways. It’s got fun colour grading, excessive swearing, weird ass characters, and such a fun setting. I’d say it’s on the medium-heavy side of gore with a couple of body horror scenes and a good bit of blood and mutilation. The seocnd movie is good, third eh, but you don’t actually need to watch those two. They take the camp of the first movie and turn it into a more gritty realistic energy that is almost meanspirited in nature

I’m a HUGE cabin fever fan and I will recommend it at every chance I get, BUT! There is a caveat and that is that it is not only significantly gory but also that it is weird, campy, kitschy, and a real big fan of slurs, LOL. I think we hit several n-words, an r-word or two, and some use of faggot. Some of the later scenes are downright WEIRD but despite it all it is one of my favourite horrors with some really haunting scenes

Hellraiser in general is a wonderful franchise, I love Clive Barker’s choice to base the cenobites around a mix of BDSM and gay culture and how he characterizes pinhead, even if the later movies fuck it up a little. The 2022 standalone is a huge favourite in particular, I love the imagery and the cenobite redesigns that lean heavier into body horror as well as the cinematography. Jamie Clayton’s pinhead is fucking INCREDIBLE to boot

If you like erotic horror, X is definitely a good one to watch - the plot centres around sex workers determined to make an erotic film and make it big, with some immaculate commentary on desirability, beauty, and aging. Good bit of tits and ass in that one, as well as medium level gore. It also has two sequels, Pearl and MaXXXine, which are set in the past and future respectively. Pearl was secretly shot at the same time as X in the same location and focuses on the lust for fame, the need to make it big, and a youthful mania of sorts coming from Pearl. MaXXXine I haven’t actually seen yet so I cannot say much about it, but I hope to get to it soon!

The fear street trilogy is also a remarkably well done series that seamlessly covers one long tangled mystery throughout three different timelines, using the same handful of actors for each one! The use of setting and cinematography is so fuckint cool, the eventual mystery reveal is absolutely wild, and there’s even a canon queer relationship! The gore isn’t too bad, I’d say light but there are some moments that push it to a medium at best

Ready or Not is a movie I enjoy for a variety or reasons (I think the iconic shot of Grace in a ripped and bloody wedding dress is pretty big on the internet), from the setting to the storytelling to Samara Weaving’s fucking banshee screams, with medium-light gore (though the bits that do show up are impactful as all hell. Cabin in the Woods is fun as a deconstruction of the horror genre (and a story that theoretically makes every single horror movie made canon, wow), though it’s also just really fucking funny. Another medium gore!

Candyman 2021 is a brilliant take on an old legacy of movies (again, no previous ones need watching) with a wonderful exploration of gentrification, black trauma, and what makes the candyman the candyman. I know I keep talking about cinematography but holy fuck, the multimedia use in this film in particular. Immaculate. I feel practically obligated to recommend Deathgasm, which is an indie horror with some pretty wicked gore, if not just because the main characters are all metalheads, and as one myself, it’s SO COOL to see us as protags in a horror movie

Last but not least, Prey 2022. Holy fuck, Prey is an utter masterpiece. It’s the latest addition to the predator franchise, another one of those ones you don’t Need to have watched in order to watch prey, but havint seen them gives the watching experience a good bit more depth, with iconic lines being given a new spin. It’s technically a prequel to the first ever predator movie, focusing on one of the first few appearances of a predator on earth (ehhh debatable considering the canon of aliens vs predator but I’m ignoring that for the sake of conciseness), giving it more a more basic appearance and weapons, while also letting it kick absolute ASS. The plot is incredible, the cinematography is incredible, the CGI animals are so much better than ever expected, and it’s also the first ever feature length film to ever have an official Comanche dub!!! Holy fuck!!

As a bonus, though I haven’t seen it, Doctor Sleep also seems like a really well done movie! It’s based off of the Stephen King book set after the shining, reprising and revisiting a lot of iconic moments to tell a new story with fucking incredible visuals that put their own spin on the shining

[guess-my-next-obsession]

Ivy & Stone, Chapter Ten: The Runaway

pairing: victorian au!frankie morales x oc (Florence Bell), victorian au!javi gutierrez x oc (Florence Bell)

rating: M (angst, javi’s dad sucks so bad, derogatory language, period realistic gender/class dynamics)

wc: 2.9k

series masterlist

Frankie felt like he got the wind knocked out of him.

He couldn’t mistake the sound of Florence’s pleasure, and though he knew it would kill him, his feet continued carrying him closer and closer to her bedroom door until he could hear and see everything.

He could hear her begging for another man, see her on all fours for him, but it wasn’t until he heard her tell him that she loved him more than anything that the ax he was holding fell from his hand and onto the hardwood floor with a crash. He stood there frozen, watching as Florence gasped and turned to look at him, but he could only manage a single glance before feeling as though he was going to vomit.

Frankie hurried as fast as he could out of the house, his head spinning a hundred miles a minute as he ran through the garden to his little cabin, Florence’s voice haunting him the entire time, distracting him from his surroundings until he bumped right into another person—Anna.

“Frankie?” she gasped at his ghastly pale state. “What’s happened?”

“What—you’re supposed to be at the wedding. You’re too young to be traveling on your own at this time—“

“Frankie, I am freshly eight and ten years old,” she chuckled. “I am a woman now. Just…just as much of a woman as my sister.”

Frankie’s brows laced together as she reached up to hold his face in her gloved palm, only to have him move it back down with a shake of his head.

“Anna, I am sorry, but I do not—you are my friend. And you are a child.”

“My sister is only three years older than me, but you don’t consider her a child,” Anna spat. Frankie didn’t know what to say to the young girl, but knew he had to do something to get her back to her parents before they all came worriedly looking.

“Anna,” he sighed, combing his hand over his face.

“What’s happened? You haven’t answered me.” Frankie stared down at his shoes as he played the scene over and over in his head like he was stuck on a loop that never ended.

“Anna?” The sound of Florence’s voice caused the memory to screech to a halt. Frankie didn’t turn to her—he couldn’t will himself to move—but watched as realization had dawned on her younger sister as Javi stepped out behind her. “What are you doing here? Have you gone mad? Mother will kill you for taking the carriage—“

“And you?” she spat. “Perfect Florence with her perfect fiancé and perfect life who still feels the need for more.”

“Anna, you have no idea what you’re talking about—“

“You already have someone! And yet you’re like a selfish little girl hoarding your toys in the corner while the rest of us are left to play pretend!” Anna shouted. “What makes you so special that they both love you like this? When I have no one? When all I’ve wanted is—“

“Anna,” Javi cleared his throat and stepped forward, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Let us take you back to the ball. I’m sure your parents are sick with worry.”

“No. My place is with Frankie.” Anna walked over and grabbed Frankie’s hand to clasp with her own. Frankie’s shocked eyes turned to Florence who was now seething.

“You’ve been fooling around with my sister?” she yelled, walking over to hit him over the arm with her clutch. “She’s just a child!”

“I haven’t!” Frankie caught her wrist in his hand and forced her to look into his eyes, the two of them losing time as their souls connected for the first time since the winter. In a softer voice, he let her wrist go and shook his head. “I haven’t.”

“Then why is she acting like you have?”

“I do not know—“

“Because I am in love with him!” Anna squealed, tired of being left out of yet another conversation. “I have been in love with him long before you ever got your claws in him. It’s me who deserves his love—“

“There’s a carriage coming,” Javi said simply, wanting to stay out of this drama so he could deal with his own.

Everyone stood and watched as Benjamin stepped out of his carriage with a furious scowl that resembled their father’s, even in the darkness of the night.

“Leave it to my siblings to pull me away from my wedding festivities over—what? What is this loud squabble about now? We can hear your shouting at the bloody party!” Benjamin rested his hands on his hips and stared at each of them.

“Florence and Javi snuck off first,” Anna spoke up, earning a pinch from her sister.

“Anna snuck off alone to visit Frankie—a man sixteen years your senior,” Florence countered.

Benjamin breathed in a deep sigh and rubbed his temples.

“I just married the only sane woman in England,” he sighed. “Javier, please take my sister back to the party. Anna, you’ll come with me—

“No!” She screamed, piercing everyone’s hearing. “I want to stay with Frankie.”

“You will see him in the morning,” he pled. “Get in the carriage.”

“No.”

“Anna,” Frankie sighed. “Go. There is no place for you with me.”

“Why?” she asked, verging on tears. “Why don’t you love me? I look like her, I can…I can learn to act like her. You can love me and pretend it’s her.”

Frankie shook his head and gave her a serious look.

“True love would never ask that of either of us,” he said. “Wait for a love where you do not have to pretend. You deserve that.”

“Anna, in the carriage,” Benjamin sighed, this time watching as his sister obeyed him.

Frankie stood watching Florence, unable to take his eyes off her as she walked off towards her carriage with Javier beside her but not touching her. He felt his breath hitch as she turned to look back at him with tear-filled, apologetic eyes, as though it all had hurt her just as much as it did him. He supposed it did, but it did nothing to heal the ache in his chest.

Turning to walk down the well trodden path to his cottage on the edge of the estate, he let his tears fall freely over what was once his only reason of living now clearly over.

No one knew except Lord Thomas that tonight would be his last night in England, his things packed in crates, his journey over the Atlantic already paid for and arranged for the next evening. He preferred it that way, no fanfare or goodbyes. No looks of sympathy or jealousy from the other servants. Just him and his broken dreams.

Florence couldn’t find sleep no matter how hard she tried. Her only person of comfort in this world—anymore, at least—was currently the person she least wanted to see. Not that she could seek him out in this palace full of her blood family and family by law without someone catching on.

Instead of walking upstairs to Javi’s bedroom, she walked down to the kitchens, desperate to find some tea concoction that would finally give her the chance to rest her mind for a while before life began demanding things from her again.

As she shuffled about making her tea, she heard footsteps near the kitchen, the faint yellow glow of a lantern lighting up the hall until there was a face to attribute the sounds to.

“My lord,” Florence gasped at the sight of Javi’s father, the Viscount, standing in the doorway. “I apologize if I’ve woken you.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I was already awake tending to business.”

Florence nodded, noting how much thicker his accent was than his son.

“Having trouble sleeping?” he asked, earning another sheepish nod. “I have mastered the art of making bedtime tea. May I?”

“Of course.” She moved from the kettle as he walked closer, her fear of the harsh and judgmental father of her betrothed keeping her from extending her usual friendliness his way.

“The wedding tonight was lovely, wasn’t it?” he asked, lighting the candles in the room to brighten it before doing the same with the stove.

“It was. I’ve never seen my brother so in love.”

“It won’t be much longer until you and Javier will be doing the same,” he turned to give her what she assumed to be a smile, even though it hardly reached his lips. “Are you excited about the wedding?”

Florence swallowed the lump that had been in her throat all night, forcing a smile onto her face as she nodded.

“Truthfully, I never had hope for my son. He was too busy fulfilling every whim and desire of his heart to think about our family line.” Florence held back her eye roll. “He was truly a disappointment. Until he met you, that is.”

“I happen to think your son is a genius,” she said, setting aside her current anger to stand up for the man she loved. “His soul is rare. Beautiful, even.”

“You sound like my wife,” he chuckled. “Sentimental women.”

Florence sucked in a deep breath to control her tongue that ached to tear him down in the way he seemed to tear everyone down.

“Are you pure?” he asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

“Excuse me, my lord?”

“Have you been bedded?” he asked, turning to give her a serious look.

“My lord—“

“My son is to be Viscount after I die,” he said. “He cannot have a whore for a wife. I hope you do not mind my asking, I am simply looking out for my family.”

As Florence opened her mouth to lay into him, another set of footsteps hurried their way to the kitchen. Florence let her breath sigh out in relief when Javi’s face appeared, worry and concern written all over it as he looked from Florence to his father.

“My love,” he said, walking to stand beside her as she nearly shook with rage. “It’s late.”

“I…couldn’t sleep,” she whispered, her eyes gesturing behind him at his father. “The Viscount offered to make me a cup of tea.”

Javi clenched his jaw at the sight of her teary eyes, knowing first hand the cruelty of his father’s words.

“But I feel quite tired now,” she continued. “I think I will be off to bed—“

“Not until you answer my question,” the Viscount’s voice stopped her as she moved to walk out of the room with Javi at her side.

“Father, she is tired,” Javi interjected.

“Well, perhaps you can answer it for her.” Javi tensed as his father turned around to look at him. “Is she pure? Or have you soiled her like you do everything else?”

“She is pure,” Javi said simply, even if it was a lie. “Now if that is all—“

“Interesting,” he chuckled. “Because I’ve heard rumors of an affair between your bride to be and a member of her family’s staff.”

Florence squeezed Javi’s hand as she held it, wishing that if she willed it hard enough, the conversation would end.

“Since when do you listen to rumors, father?”

“Rumors are what led me to discover your affair with that Seaworth fellow, Javi,” the older man smirked.

“We are going to bed,” Javi said sternly.

“Si, sí,” he nodded and turned his eyes to Florence. “It will be wonderful having you as a member of our family, Florence.”

Javi didn’t give Florence the chance to reply, not that she wanted to. He was rushing her upstairs to the safety of her guest room, closing and locking the door behind him before reaching to cup her face in his hand.

“Did he hurt you? Touch you? Anything?” he asked, surveying her for any marks.

“No, he didn’t touch me. Just insinuated that I’m a whore and called you a disappointment,” she replied dryly. “I can safely say that I hate your father.”

“I can safely agree with you on that,” he let out a breath of a chuckle before softening his eyes on her. “I know you are still angry with me, and I do not blame you, but may I stay with you tonight?” Florence gave him an uncertain look and lowered her eyes from his. “I swear—I will not touch you. I will sleep on the chaise. I just…want to be certain you are alright.”

“Of course,” she nodded, her voice faint with the equal amount of love and resentment she held for him. “Of course you can stay.”

Javi gave her an adoring smile and nodded before leaning in to press a kiss onto her forehead only to be guided lower to her lips.

“As mad as I am—“ She kissed him again. “I cannot stop loving you.”

Javi had no choice but to follow her as she led him to her bed.

“My love—“

“Do not get too excited,” she chuckled. “I only mean for you to share my bed tonight.”

“Of course,” he nodded and smiled before joining her beneath the bedding, allowing her to rest her head on his chest as she cozied herself safely into his side. “May I…ask you something? About…Mr. Morales?”

Florence sighed and lifted her head to look up at him.

“I suppose.”

“How did the two of you meet?” he asked, no anger or jealousy in his voice now that he’d already gotten it out of his system.

“He was hired by my father a few winters ago,” she said. “But we didn’t begin…speaking…until last spring.”

“And what was it that drew you in?”

“I do not know,” she chuckled nervously. “He was always there, tending to the garden or fixing something in the house. He was quiet, and thoughtful. The only person that spoke to me like I had a mind rather than simply beauty and wealth. Until you, that is.”

“Your younger siblings seem awfully attached to him,” he said, running a finger up and down her arm that rested over his stomach. “Anna in particular.”

“Yes,” she sighed.

“And you do not believe he’s…spoken to her, as well?”

“I don’t,” she replied. “He wouldn’t.”

“Men are the worst creatures to walk this earth, mi vida,” he said. “Never underestimate that.”

“Frankie is good. Just like you,” she stroked her thumb over his jaw. “I believe him.”

Javi nodded, letting the topic rest.

“Can I ask you something?” Javi’s eyes met hers, carefully studying them before nodding. “Your father—has he always been this way? Was he…never good to you?”

“If he was, I cannot remember it,” he said. “Since I was a boy, he’s only ever been impossible to please. My mother is the only person who’s been able to make something resembling a human out of him. I both pity and respect her for tolerating him as long as she has.”

“He’s hit you?” she asked, rubbing her palm over his chest.

“Yes.”

“Your father has all the money in the world,” she said. “And yet he can’t find a way to buy himself decency. A good heart. You, my love,” she lifted her hand to rest on his cheek, her eyes locking with his. “You have a good heart. You are decent.”

“Even after—“

“Even then.”

“That is all,” Frankie announced after packing the last of his crates onto his wagon, turning to Lord Thomas as he stood with him outside of the manor.

“I wish you a safe voyage,” Lord Thomas said. “Everything aside, you have served our family loyally. I thank you for that.”

Frankie only nodded in confirmation.

“My brother will be there to greet you at the port.”

“Thank you, sir.”

With a handshake, Frankie climbed onto his horse and gave the garden one last look before trotting off down the long road that led to the harbor where he’d catch his train later this evening.

He tried not to think of the afternoons spent in the warm sun, Florence sitting on her favorite bench reading while he tended to the hedges. He tried not to think of the way she’d stare at his back until it felt like she was burning holes into it, forcing him to turn around and look at her mischievous smirk. And he tried, most of all, not to think of how it felt to pin her against the grass, to touch her, to feel her bloom for him like a flower.

But so far, he was failing.

It was dark by the time he reached the harbor, the chill of the air forcing him to shiver as he unloaded his wagon crate by crate until there was nothing left. Handing his ticket to the guard, he boarded the ship, finding a table in the tea room so that he could calm his nerves with a cup of chamomile. Pulling out his journal, he began to write about his journey so far, of the way the country seemed so large and yet, suffocatingly small. It was then that he felt the ship pull off the harbor, drawing his eyes to the dark ocean that quickly surrounded the boat.

“Frankie,” a voice called his name, forcing his eyes to whip around to take in a worryingly familiar face.

“Anna?”

•

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•

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[abubblingcandle]

So so so so intrigued by your Dad!Higgins fic. I hadn't really thought about Higgins in that way but despite bad advice to Jamie about his dad, Higgins is one of the best examples of dad figure that we see on the show

If you want to share any more then please do!

Ahhh thank you! So I am on a mission to just give Jamie all the dad figures and the same thing hit me. Like he does give bad advice but we see so much more of Higgins being a supportive figure to the lads and even in S1 genuinely caring about them!

Despite you asking for Dad!Higgins, I've just finished a scene that's been haunting me this morning with something from that fic that might be even more important ... Mum!Julie 😂 Julie who's husband announces he is bring home an injured and troubled 23 year old who is known for chatting shit and trying to antagonise people. Julie who looks at this boy and sees a lost teenager under all the posturing and immediately goes into "I'm going to parent this boy so hard he won't know what's hit him" mode. Julie Higgins has raised 5 boys and has a football team invade her house every Christmas Day, what's one more son?

“Oh fucking hell,” Jamie groaned and Higgins watched him slowly straighten and fumble for the remote as soon as his own face appeared next to the Sky Sports pundit.

“Language Jamie,” Julie softedly scolded. Jamie turned the TV off and froze in place. He turned to look at the table and frowned.

“Um, what?” he replied, straightening up and throwing the remote onto the cushions next to him.

“Don’t swear in front of the children,” Julie prompted, returning her focus to her laptop. Stevie and Dana both looked at Higgins in shock and then at each other with slightly fearful glee. It had been a long time in this house since someone had talked back to Julie. If Jamie had an ounce of sense in his body he would apologise and never say another swear word in Julie’s presence. Instead, he scoffed and leant back on the settee.

“Ain’t nothing they haven’t heard before I can assure you and I’m an adult, in case hadn’t noticed, I can say what I want,” he smirked, waving it off dismissively.

“Not in my house you can’t. For as long as you are staying here you need to follow my rules. Therefore no swearing when the children are in the house,” Julie closed her laptop, turning in her chair to hit Jamie with the patented mum glare. Jamie’s smirk shifted through a fair few different emotions before his mouth pressed into a thin line.

“That’s bullshit. Free speech and all that,” he huffed.

“Last warning Jamie. You don’t have to stay here if you are not willing to make some concessions to sharing your space,” Julie glared back.

“Fuck it, then I won’t!” he levered himself up from the settee with his good arm and stormed past the table to the door. “Didn’t even want to be here anyway. Might as well be at home,” he grumbled, kicking on his shoes. “Fuck all of this,” he exclaimed and then the door swung in his wake. Higgins jumped as it slammed shut. The house was left in silence.

“I’ll go after him,” Higgins sighed, placing his hands down on his knees and sighing as he prepared to get up. Julie pressed her hand down on top of his.

“Give him time to calm down,” she sighed, smiling sadly. “Boys you mind going to your rooms to play for a bit,” she suggested but all three of the present Higgins men knew it wasn’t a selection. They left their homework scattered around the table and sprinted off up the stairs pushing each other.

“I’m sorry. We can tell him to go,” Higgins muttered. He had hoped more than anything that being in a positive atmosphere might somehow fix Jamie like Ted always thought it might but it seemed not. He was still the smug and sarky fool that Richmond knew.

“I don’t want him to go. I don’t even particularly care about the swearing love,” Julie chuckled. Higgin’s head shot round to frown at her. “Oh Leslie he’s a hundred percent right. The boys have definitely heard worse language than that and Jamie is an adult and adults swear sometimes,” she added with a shrug.

“So why did you make a scene about it?”

“From what you’ve told me and from what I’ve seen, Jamie’s probably never been parented. It’s one of those stupid things about the football system. You control these kids then move them from their parents often as teenagers and give them so much money, so so much money, and fame and then expect them to make good choices. Mentally Jamie is around 15 but with the resources and freedom of a 23 year old celebrity. Someone needs to set him boundaries and show him that no matter what he can do with his right foot, he needs to show respect if he wants to be treated with respect. And that is something that a parent should teach their child,” Julie finished her monologue and thesis on childhood development. Higgins just stared at her. How on earth had he got so lucky? “Now I am going to open that bottle of incredibly expensive wine that Jamie got us. We are both going to drink a glass and pretend that this is a blissfully child free day and then you are going to go find Jamie,” she kissed him on the cheek.

“Will he be fine out there? He doesn’t know the neighbourhood that well,” Higgins frowned but Julie’s kiss moved to his lips.

“Well as he explicitly told us, he is an adult. I’m sure he’ll be fine,” she smiled.

[princesseevee06]

hi eevee!! the recent news on ytr Shins execution has me Devastated. (esp bc Kannas death is my favorite and im very normal about greenblings LMAOO) but that got me thinking about the other executions in ytr! if you'd like to, what are some of the other executions/deaths?? don't gotta reveal all of em yet, just wanted to ask haha :) take care!

HI BREAD i am so sorry about the shin execution thing. i saw the opportunity to do the funniest (most agonizing) thing ever and i had to.

the thing that really gets me about it is like. in ytr shin never gets his collar off at that last moment, he has no chance of really escaping, but he’s still trying to run WHILE HIS BODY IS BEING ROOTED TO THE GROUND and he still manages to even set up the sara ai. he still doesnt accept his fate right up until the very end. And That Makes Me So Sad

buuuuut you probably wanna hear about some of the other devastating deaths! which i am also happy to provide deets on ^^

(WARNING: LONG LONG POST BELOW i am so sorry)

ok im gonna be honest i havent focused super hard on the deaths themselves because it’s always more interesting to me to focus on the aftermath i think…but there are some ive thought about more than others so i’ll go over those!

• nao

this one is Hectic. I wanted it to be kind of a mix of mishima’s death and nao’s canon death, so her collar device is sort of like…magnetic? basically, it pulls her to the wall and starts crushing her neck. i feel like this adds a greater sense of panic to the scene, because unlike mishima’s collar which they can’t touch when it burns, in ytr both kugie and mishima are trying to help nao :,) (spoiler alert they cannot)

• sara

oh this one makes me So sad….it’s fundamentally the same premise as joe’s execution with the wrigglers, but the difference is that ryoko is actually fast enough with the clicker to get them off (it’s always so funny to me that one of the canon things we know about ryoko is she’s good at arcade games. so i imagine she has fast fingers 💀). but at that point it’s already too late because sara has lost too much blood, so she just ends up bleeding out in ryoko’s arms instead. fun fact: because of that, ryoko’s hallucination of sara always comes out of the ground in a pool of blood :,)

• sei

ok i haven’t SUPER worked out the specifics of this one but i do know the general vibes for it so i’m putting it anyways. basically, when sei gets voted for, much like what happened in the assassin game in canon they ask kai to kill them. because they don’t want to be alone as they die and also it’d be a big middle finger to asunaro. kai has the kitchen knife. he could do it. but he literally just can’t bring himself to. if it was himself he could do it, but he can’t bring himself to hurt sei. so instead he just has to watch them die without doing a thing and it ends up haunting him. (i have this vivid image of kai literally having to be dragged away from sei’s corpse :((((((((( )

• sou

ok here’s the big one. sou is my fave bleeby blorbo so you KNOW i’ve put a shit-ton of thought into this one. the funniest thing about this to me is that. sou put his collar on himself at the beginning of the death game. and so when hayasaka is like “sorry :( we’ll have to execute you” sou is like “nuh uh” and literally just takes it back off. THERE IS JUST THIS MOMENT OF. AWKWARD SILENCE ACROSS THE ENTIRE ROOM. hayasaka is like “holy shit what do i do now” but he doesn’t have to do any work because sou ends up dooming himself 👍

he figures. okay well i have to do something quick or people from the upper floors are actually gonna come start trying to kill me. unlike shin, he doesn’t really have any intention of ‘escaping,’ at least not in a direct manner, but what he does try to do is get to the fifth floor where his lab is to see if he can deactivate the collars. because essentially, that’ll take the target off his back at least temporarily— what’s one guy running around without a collar to SEVEN people running around without a collar? asunaro cant execute everyone if they want the death game to continue, right? he knows the facility, so he’s actually able to dodge/avoid the ‘weapons’ really well. atp the other participants are running after him watching him bolt across the third floor and straight up rooting for him. he gets really close to the winner’s stairs (and if he can get there, he’s home free because they connect to all the other floors) and because of that he gets a little tooooooo cocky.

if he can actually accomplish what he’s trying to do, asunaro could literally fall apart from the inside out. if they don’t have control over the participants w/ the collars, the main cast could quite literally stage a mini uprising. sou could finally have the chance to be free from asunaro, to be free from his mother, to live his life how *he* wants to— he’s so close.

so anyways, sou looks back at shin. because of course he does.

and what is he rewarded with? impalement! ^_^ no seriously, at the last moment he steps on a trap that impales him. YES i wanted to harken back to the fake death alice caused in actual yttd. so yeah he uh. does not make it out of that one alive. sorry sou!

(i could talk about how this firmly cements in shin that his mindset of the strong persevering over the weak is correct, because he was the one to pass the role of ‘shin tsukimi’ over to sou, to pass the role of being ‘weak’ to him, and in sou’s last moments that weakness (in this case, caring too deeply for shin) ends up being his undoing. but we’ll save that for another day!)

• mishima

so mishima’s is actually relatively the same as q-taro’s canon death, because tbh i couldn’t figure out a way to make it any different without completely screwing up the banquet. sorry mimimishima :((

the thing that really gets me about this one is the REVEAL though. atp kugie and mishima have built up a strong relationship throughout the death game, and so the fact that mishima’s sacrifice essentially ends up saving kugie’s life is weirdly poetic to me. it is NOT poetic to kugie though. she is so upset that people keep sacrificing themselves for her sake (since yknow. she experienced this first with kanna) when she’s been trying to protect others this whole time. it’s just. agh. really sad.

i haven’t really thought as much about maple’s hinako’s and ranmaru’s sorry,,,, again i thought more of the surrounding circumstances for those ones (other people’s reactions to their deaths so. yknow yknow) but i’ll try to think more on em in the meantime!

I am SO sorry for this post it was SUPER long and SUPER sad. like *I* am sad now and I’m the one who decided what happens. Sorry bread 😭

[lucius-the-literary-lunatic]

Save Him - Blood Bound

spoilers for the kill your lover dark urge scene.

i had so much fun writing this, i learned a lot from this session about Floring as a character outside of the dialogue options of the game. this is mostly un-edited and in a different writing style than my other work bc i had originally written it for myself. i did just copy some of the game text, again this was gonna be a private work, but i had the courage to share something so here i am

Another sleepless night haunted Florin, but this one was different. Instead of the usual restlessness, this one was full of pain and aching. His stomach churned, the bile held within unsettled, and with each passing moment, the feeling worsened. After one particularly violent surge, Rin got up, attention drawn to his companions sleeping soundly. His head throbbed as he craved to reduce them all to sinew and viscera. Before he could stop himself Florin found himself outside of Astarion’s tent, faced with his butler. 

SF: He is so afraid. So, so afraid. Of everyone, besides you, who he ought to fear most. You could do so much better, Milord. 

F: What in the Hells do you want? I don’t exactly remember asking for you or your input.

SF: I am here to watch your moment of triumph, my loathly Master. Your clever mind is penning tragedy as we speak. Your repressed Urge yearns to kill. And kill you will. Tonight, the moment you close your eyes, your favorite person will be brutalized. 

F: I didn’t touch Isobel, I have more self-control than you give me credit for. I won’t be repeating the bard.

SF: It is precisely because you didn’t touch her, that you are insatiable. Your Dark Urge will have death, one way or another. Tonight. You like him for more than his looks, but he will never believe that. Why not make him a pretty corpse?

The thought made Florin’s hair stand on end; from excitement or fear, he didn’t know.

F: He’s not dying. I haven’t-...

He cut himself off, not yet ready to cross into such unfamiliar territory. Unfortunately for him, Sceleritas knew his unspoken words and was more than happy to combat any merciful thoughts Florin was having.

SF: Why not whisper it while you twist the knife? Or have a love confession be the final words between you? It is my duty to ensure you are making the right decisions, Master. There was much….. Disappointment at your reluctance to kill the little Moonmaiden. You could kill this one deliberately. I’m sure it will be considered a great show of goodwill. The tithe could still be yours. 

F: It wasn’t reluctance, I would have loved to hang her with her intestines, but it was smarter for her to live. I aim to end her when she’s outlived her usefulness.

SF: I do sincerely apologize, Master, that your Urge does not use the same calculations that you do. The wheels have already been set in motion, there will be blood on your monstrous hands. Good night, sweet Lord.

With Sceleritas vanishing into a flow of red, Florin was alone with his thoughts, and his Urge. For a few moments he watched Astarion rest blissfully without a fear in the world. It was the most at ease he’d ever seen the elf, he didn’t want to ruin it, but his Urge said otherwise. While he still had some common sense Florin reached to wake the vampire, wanting to save him from himself, but his hand wavered; longing to wrap around his throat, or better yet claw it to shreds. Fighting his Urge only brought Florin pain, head pulsing as red seeped into his vision.

F: Astarion… Star.

Seeing the elves' eyes gave Florin just a bit more stability.

A: Well, hello. Looking for a cuddle? 

Astarion’s almost hopeful smile was quickly replaced by a look of concern.

A: Although you don’t look entirely… yourself. What’s going on in that head of yours? 

Something in Florin’s chest curled tight, he didn’t like this. It wasn’t fair. He hated being laid bare before Astarion, being so thoroughly known at just a glance, and yet he found comfort in it… 

F: Now isn’t the time. I need to protect you.

A: Alright, talk quickly then.

F: There’s… Fuck..

As he begins to speak Florin’s head swims with a pounding headache, fatigue filling his body. 

F: I wasn’t in control when I killed Alfira, and it’s going to happen again. Tonight I’m going to kill the person I care about most: you. Unless you can stop me. 

A: How flattering. And disturbing. 

Despite his nonchalance Astarion sat up a bit straighter, clearly taking the words to heart.

A: You could have talked to me before things got murderously bad, you know. We are technically in this together. 

There it was again, that tightness in his chest that only the elf could evoke. 

F: Speaking, I’m good at. With honesty is where it gets complicated…

Words trailing off shadows crept into Florin’s vision, pulling him under faster than he could realize. 

When viridian eyes open again, they don’t belong to Florin. He isn’t himself, he has no control here, tied up beneath the watchful eye Astarion. 

A: This thing won’t have you. It won’t win.

As he spoke the elf leaned ever so slightly closer, clouding the Urge’s thoughts with blood as it tried to bite him.

A: Ah ah ah. We ask before we bite. You’re cute, you know. If you didn’t want me dead, we might’ve been friends. Well, that and the fact that you’re taking control of my dearest deadly flower.

Florin continued to squirm, wrist raw and bloody as his Urge fought against his bindings. 

A: Easy now, darling. You’ve got this. And I’ve got you.

Growl escaping, the Urge spoke its mind freely.

F: Your blood will clot for me like liquid rubies.

A: A little too late, but good effort. Now just relax, dawn will be here soon. 

The night passes painfully, Florin feverishly trying to break free and end his torment. But in the end Astarion remained unharmed, no blood to be shed in camp. 

As the sun slowly started to rear its head, Florin was back in his own mind. Heaving himself into an upright position he shook his head, trying to get rid of the shadows at the edges of his vision and the nausea rising in his throat.

A: Welcome back. 

Once cut free Florin sat across from the vampire, mindful not to pay attention to his wounded wrists lest he trigger another bloodlust.

A: I felt for the bard, seeing you like that. Poor Alfira never stood a chance, did she? 

F: No… I always felt there was a reason I stayed away from my blades when I could. Now I know why.

A: And why is that, exactly?

F: All I know is that I have this Dark Urge that requires me to kill, and a butler who encourages it. Not that I need much encouragement. I’m fine killing, I enjoy it, what I don’t enjoy is that it tries to dictate who I kill and when. I didn’t know until after I killed Alfira. The following night he arrived to congratulate me.

A: Your butler.

F: Sceleratas Fel. He said he’d been waiting for my return, found me from the smell of a particularly vicious killing. When we arrived in the shadowlands he came back, instructing me to kill someone named Isobel and I’d be rewarded. I agreed, thinking it’d be easy and of no consequence. When I realized killing her would be more trouble than it was worth, I put the thought aside. Burying the temptation every time we spoke with her. I hadn’t completely given up the idea though, deciding I’d kill her when she wasn’t as useful.

A: Let me guess, neither your Urge nor your butler cared much for that idea.

F: No… At first I didn’t mind the Urge, now… I’m not so sure. 

Looking away from Astarion Florin admitted the last part, unsure how he felt speaking it to himself let alone the man he’d reluctantly come to care for.

A: You’re not alone in this, you know.

Hearing that got the tieflings attention. He looked back to the vampire, surprised when he didn't see any of the pity he was expecting.

A: None of us are. We can even compare notes if you like.

Florin scoffed, half thinking he’d wake up from this cruel dream soon.

F: If your next words are “it’s alright”, I might reconsider keeping you alive.

A: They aren’t. You tried to kill me, of course it’s not alright. But nothing is ruined either. After all, what’s a little attempted murder between friends? Look at Wyll and Karlach, best of buds now. 

Rin couldn’t help but chuckle.

A: But whatever this is, you will get through it. And I’ll be here to make sure you do.

The honesty in his eyes had the warmth returning to Florin’s chest, this time without the lurking thought of him bathed in his own blood. Rin almost enjoyed it, if only it had been a little more familiar.

A: Anyway, it’s a brand-new day. I’m sure we’ll find lots of people for you to kill.

F: I can’t wait.

A: The murders can, however. Until you’ve gotten at least some rest.

F: I-

A: As much as I’d hate to tie you up again so soon, I will if I have to.

After a short staring contest, Florin realized Astarion wasn’t backing down. With a sigh he gave in.

A: See, that wasn’t that hard. If it’s any consolation, the offer for the cuddle still stands.

[siancore]

First of all, steel barricade? And of course know you can ignore my asking and we’ll never mention it.

For the ask game:

10 - T’Challa/Bucky I mean this was at a time before I even read standalone Sam or Bucky with anyone else and bam! I loved them and understand it staying in unfinished and think about that last scene and the words from time to time. About what it means for each of them, even if both know its not really real it’s enough in that moment and I think enough of a foundation. One of the maybe 2 times I didn’t want SamBucky endgame.

12 - I have read all of your fics multiple times. Long ones maybe twice only. And long ones where I was there before it ended/when it started, I reread before I read the update. I read “A Chance” absolutely countless times…the tab just stayed open for months and months.

5 - I need to see if you have Attoye(is that what we call them now?) I haven’t read. But what haunts me the most is your Walking Dead fics. I tried watching the show but zombies. I will watch it just to read your fics though. Because I just know it’ll destroy me in a good way and make me feel. I know you also have a SamBucky I haven’t started but it seemed sad and I’m just not ok enough to read anything sad.

9 - Your SarahBucky’s. College Sarah and Divorced Sarah are close to my heart. No pressure.

Ps. I’ve done this 10 times. It keeps crashing when i try to create a link. I’m too exhausted to be frustrated though but you know which ask game I’m talking about. Also hi babes how are you. Miss you💜💜💜

Pps. Excuse this terrible formatting i did it in the notes app.

Oh my gosh, that barricade was rough. Rough concert. Came away with a cracked rib. They're a bitch. But everything healed very well. Sometimes I want to feel something, and I end up feeling a lot more than I bargained for lol

Listen the Bucky/T'Challa fic is dear to me. I have it all outlined, and do want to come back to it. We'll see how I go. But it's such a lovely little rare pair. The multi-shipper in me gives all I got to each pairing I like, so I'm glad you liked it. I just think they're sweet together.

Attoye is such a great ship. The chemistry from what little we've seen on our screens is fire. Their fight scene is better than Steve vs Winter Soldier in my opinion because there's an added layer of sexual tension to it. I adore this ship so much.

The Walking Dead was such an awesome show. Rick and Michonne circa S3 invented sexual tension lol if you ever watch the show, please come yell at me about it!

I lost all of my SarahBucky fics because my old laptop shit itself. I'm gonna get someone to look at it and see if I can salvage those stories. I thought I backed them up, but didn't. Kicking myself so hard.

I posted a couple of new SamBucky fics if you haven't checked them out. Thunderbolts Divorce Era is almost upon us.

Hey, I hope you're doing well. I'm getting there. Thank you x

[dailyb-iv]

Week 6- Post 4

Alephia 2053 Synthesis and Reflection

I haven’t watched anything like Alephia 2053. I’ve seen plenty of dystopian films and read dystopian books, but it was very interesting to see a movie scheme popular in western movie plots interpreted to Middle Eastern regimes. My initial reaction was shock. I wasn’t expecting an animated film to be so graphic and gore, and I wasn’t expecting Layla to kill herself after Mayyar’s execution, but after Dalal’s death, I could better understand that they would rather take their own lives then surrender to a government that has already taken so much from them. The movie was also very symbolic. Layla, Soumaya, and Majd were all so close to the inner circle, or the bourgeoisie. In a way, the dams symbolized the infrastructure of the city, like Franz Fanon’s house metaphor. Similarly, I noticed a lot of parallels between this movie and Brothers of the Gun.

In class, we discussed Franz Fanon’s house metaphor where he emphasizes the importance of bringing down infrastructure to free a nation of the post effects of colonization. In the movie, the “tyrants” worked to break down the infrastructure of the government and regain their freedom. Fanon also identified the bourgeoisie as the few and elite. In the movie, the Great Leader Aleph, the military general, and the agents could all be considered part of the bourgeoisie as they are the only ones to benefit from the restrictions imposed on the masses. At the end, the coup d'état reminded me of my research of Lebanon as the country experienced its first military coup d'état in 1962.  

The clearest parallels from the movie related to Brothers of the Gun. The movie begins with the murder of several people. In Brothers of the Gun, Hisham addresses the brutality posed on protestors and the public. He describes how the “army killed twenty-one protestors,” how people were tortured, humiliated, and stripped of their identity. Hisham identifies how, “you never know which murder will be the one too many,” and in the movie, the death of Layla and Mayyar tip the scales and act as the last drops that make the dam overflow and spill. Among the characters, Majd is haunted by his father’s shadow the same way the narrator lives under his father’s expectations and is limited by his life trajectories.  

Although the movie didn’t focus much on gender roles, it was interesting that the female characters didn’t wear hijabs and that during the pool scene, women were wearing revealing swimsuits. In Mohsin Hamid’s Exit West, Nadia chooses to wear a hijab not because she is religious but to respect her parents and culture. Her character is bold, educated, independent, and free in her romantic encounters, but she still chose to wear it. Hamid’s work also connects to the movie, as Aleph dictates through fear, and Nadia and Saeed’s characters document the growing fear within their cities as the military moves in, the government struggles to withstand, and people question what to do next.  

In all worlds, fictional and real, people will respond to the threats they perceive. By leaving, obeying, or protesting, there will always be a response from people who have had their lives deterred and twisted by an imposing power. In Exit West, Nadia and Saeed immigrated, In Brothers of the Gun and Alephia 2053, the characters revolted, in What Do We Do Now? The women tried to retain peace. Either way, war infringes differently on each person, but it’s always a matter of time until the seams burst, and revolts begin. Yet, as Alephia 2053 portrayed, “Tyranny is not destiny.” Tyranny is only a portion of the road to regaining independence. They are only tyrants as long as there is an outsider to label them as such.  

[denimbex1986]

'As a kid, I was always afraid of ghost stories. When you’re younger, at least there’s an immediate connotation between ghosts and something scary exacerbated by Halloween. Plus, the idea of the unknown and what comes after death makes it a complex concept to wrap your head around as a kid. It wasn’t until later in life that I realized ghost stories come in all forms and that I’m drawn to them — especially when they’re as heartbreakingly rendered as Andrew Haigh’s latest film, All of Us Strangers.

Directed and written by Haigh and adapted from the 1987 novel Strangers by Taichi Yamada, All of Us Strangers is relatively straightforward in its premise: In modern-day London, aspiring and lonely screenwriter Adam (Andrew Scott) begins to visit with his dead parents (Jamie Bell and Claire Foy) inside his family home while starting a relationship with Harry (Paul Mescal). Simplicity is not equivalent to execution, the latter of which is where the film transcends into something I haven’t been able to shake since I saw it.

The idea of getting another chance to talk with a long-gone loved one is foundational to any sort of ghost story, horror or otherwise, and grief serves as an essential pillar to All of Us. Haigh wisely avoids explaining why Adam’s parents have suddenly returned and instead focuses on the how. Is it Adam imagining these conversations in his head as he works on an idea for a screenplay? Are his parents truly back? There’s no conclusive evidence one way or another, and it doesn’t matter. It’s all about how Adam responds and the chances he gets to have conversations he never could have otherwise had. His parents passed away when he was young, so there’s a lot of ground to cover — the remainder of his childhood, his current life, his sexuality — now that they’re back. All of Us Strangers is really about having the chance to say and do the things we wish we could have when someone leaves us, especially when you’re roughly the same age as they were.

That macro execution of a micro aspect best comes to life in a sequence where father and son talk about Adam’s childhood and how something that’s seemingly so minor to one person can be a defining moment for another. But the richness of the film is how this moment allows for closure and forgiveness that anyone who’s lost a parent desperately yearns to have. The understanding, acceptance, and forgiveness the two cultivate by the end of the scene ethered me; I’ve imagined so many conversations with my father, who passed away over a decade ago, in hopes of having the emotional catharsis Adam experiences here. It’s such a delicately incredible act of performance and directing that’s so raw and real that I’m shocked it exists.

The combination of performance and direction makes All of Us Strangers sing. Scott, Mescal, Bell, and Foy are all tremendous, with the real standouts being Scott and Bell. Series like Sherlock and Fleabag quickly established Scott as an extraordinary talent. Still, how he’s willing to make himself so unbelievably vulnerable throughout this — whether it’s how he plays against Foy and Bell or how he coveys the extent of his affection for Mescal — is, simply put, a tremendous act to behold.

The same goes for Bell, whose work I’ve always appreciated, but he finds a new gear here, as his warmth radiates through the screen. As for Haigh, there’s never a doubt about his singular vision, but how it comes across as something so universal is a magic act unto itself. It’s so human in its execution that it’s often easy to forget we’re watching a ghost story.

That is, until the final moments, where that spectral element comes back to loom the film to crushing effect. Yet even here, a moment of such beauty and love left me awe-struck and emotionally out. It’s a beautiful moment that I’m happy to haunt my thoughts, as we should all be so lucky to experience something so profound and wonderful.'

[wandaromanova]

Little Sister

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: one cuss word, minor BW spoilers

A/N: hello! i’d like to note that this takes place sometime before the events in the Black Widow movie! if you haven’t seen the movie yet, please skip over this story and come back later if you’d like! happy reading <3

anon requested: hiii i have a fluff request after seeing bw haha: could you do nat x fem reader where they're laying in bed snuggling, and r asks her about her family and nat tells her and r notices how cute she looks when she's talking about yelena and it's so soft and ahhhh

Summary: Natasha tells her girlfriend about a piece of her past that she never talks about; her sister.

Word Count: 2K

| masterlist | request rules/guidelines | wips |

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

Natasha Romanoff has lived a lot of lives. She has been through more than most.

Nat had been taken as an infant by an organization that trained little girls to become lethal assassins.

She was psychologically conditioned to become a killer, having taken more lives than she could count.

Eventually, Natasha had managed to break free from the cage she was forced into and was recruited as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent; it was a new start for her, an opportunity to compensate for the red in her ledger.

So, Natasha took her job seriously, saving as many people as she could, even more so when she became an Avenger; one of earth’s mightiest heroes.

Natasha found something in the team that she never really had before; a family. She found a home within the dysfunctional team she had been recruited into.

Not only did Natasha find a family within the Avengers; she also found the love of her life.

Natasha hadn’t even considered the possibility of ever finding love.

For starters, the Red Room had instilled the concept that love was nothing but a distraction; a liability.

She had been taught that love was for children and it was nothing but a weakness that needed to be avoided at all costs.

She was quite literally programmed to be emotionally closed off and to always have her guard up. Letting someone into her heart was a risk she didn’t want to take.

When Natasha gained her independence from the organization, she had to do a lot of self-discovering. She had never been able to be her own person, but now that she could, she quickly learned that she didn’t even know herself.

However, it was Natasha’s insecurities that truly turned her off from the entire idea of love.

How could any ever possibly love her? She thought she was a monster for the things she’d done. She has done the unspeakable since ever she was a child.

What if she wasn’t enough? What if her baggage was too much for someone else to carry? She didn’t want to be a burden. She didn’t want to have to protect someone, just to fail them like she had failed so many others.

Natasha was positive that no one would ever be crazy enough to love her.

Little did she know, she would end up finding someone crazy enough to do so; you.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

When the Avengers were formed, you were extremely nervous about it.

All of the files that you’ve read on your new teammates were unbelievable; they were all phenomenal in their own rights. A super-soldier, a god, a genius, a trained-spy.

You were a spy yourself, so you knew exactly who Natasha Romanoff was. She was a S.H.I.E.L.D legend, the best of the best.

You were more nervous about meeting her than anyone else. What if she judged you? What if she didn’t think you were good enough to be an agent, let alone an Avenger?

Not only was she your superior, but she was also your crush. Yeah, you’d never even met the woman before, but you were crushing on her hard.

She was drop-dead gorgeous, but also quite literally a deadly force. Natasha could easily take down anyone she wanted to, and honestly, you wanted to be one of those lucky people.

When you met Natasha for the first time, you were a flustered mess. The redhead found it amusing, how your cheeks turned a bright shade of red and you stumbled over your words as you praised her work.

Natasha never told you this, but she was immediately smitten the moment she laid eyes on you.

There was a kindness and positivity that just radiated off of you and it was extremely contagious.

You were this beaming ball of light that lit up the darkest parts of her soul.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

You got to know Natasha extremely well while being on the team. From observing her closely and paying very close attention to her actions, you had managed to pick up on little things.

She didn’t put any creamer or sugar in her sugar; opting for strong, black coffee.

She was kind of a clean freak. If she saw something out of place, she would be quick to put it in the correct place or position.

When she was happy, she would let a small smirk cross her features. When she was annoyed, she would raise her eyebrows.

When she was stressed out or angry, three little creases would appear on her forehead as her eyebrows would knit together tightly; a subtle frown on her face.

Of course, when you began dating the redhead, you didn’t really have to survey her so closely anymore because she’d tell you things herself.

No matter the circumstances, Natasha would always come to you and rant about it. Whether it was about how shitty a mission went or how she beat Clint’s ass during training; you were the only person she wanted to tell.

Natasha had opened up to you, something she never did with anyone. She told you all about her past.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

You had some knowledge of Natasha’s previous life, considering it was in her files, but you didn’t realize just how horrible her childhood truly was.

The Red Room, the heavy weight of guilt that rests on her shoulders, the nightmares that forced her to relive the murders she committed, her time as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, and becoming an Avenger.

She’d go on and on about her road to redemption or ‘clearing the red out of her ledger.’

Natasha was terrified when she told you about her demons. She figured you were going to leave her the second she finished talking, waiting for you to get up and walk out the door, but you didn’t.

So, you completely caught her off guard when you pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, placing a soft kiss onto her temple, the redhead relaxing in your embrace.

“You’re the strongest person I know. It’s not your fault, you were forced and conditioned to do the things you did.”

Natasha focused on the sound of your voice and took in your words as you softly caressed her red locks with one hand.

“Baby, the amount of respect I have for you is immeasurable. I applaud you for turning your life around for the better. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Your words had brought tears to Natasha’s eyes, which was a rare occurrence.

She was expecting you to run for the hills, but you chose to pull her closer instead.

In that moment, Natasha knew she never had to be afraid of love again.

You were the most understanding and accepting person she’d ever met.

You would never judge her for her worst mistakes; Natasha had found the one for her and she wasn’t ever going to let go.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

Now, a few months later and a year into your relationship with the Russian, you were both lying in bed and cuddling.

You were both watching a movie when a particular scene came on. It was of a family gathering around a Christmas tree, children excitedly opening up presents with gleeful smiles across their faces.

“You know, my sister and I got to take pictures with a Christmas tree once.” Natasha spoke, her eyes fixated on the screen.

You looked up at her in shock. You didn’t know that Natasha had a sister. She told you that she didn’t even so much as know her parent’s names.

Natasha looked down and noticed your confused expression. She reached for the remote on the bedside table and paused the movie before returning her gaze to you.

“There was a mission I was assigned to in Ohio, as a kid. I was assigned to play the daughter of two other Russian spies, Alexei and Melina. It wasn’t just me though, there was a little girl who was assigned as my younger sister. Her name is Yelena.”

Natasha had a reminiscent, happy smile on her face as she recalled the brief period time of her childhood. She looked absolutely adorable as she rambled on about this part of her childhood.

“We took photoshoots of various holidays to make our family look more realistic. My favorite one was Christmas. Even though I knew they were just empty boxes, I wanted to rip open every single one.”

Natasha let out a small giggle at the thought. Even though she had a smile on her face, you could feel and hear the underlying tone of sadness in her voice.

“Yelena and I would spend hours outside, just playing together. Swinging on the swing-sets, looking up at the stars, bending over backward, and getting into a ridiculous competition to see who could hold the position the longest… I always let her win.”

You could see the fondness in her eyes, the longing. It warmed your heart that there was a small glimmer of light in Natasha’s past. There was at least a sliver of hope that she clung tightly onto throughout her time in the Red Room.

“After 3 years, the mission ended. Yelena and I were sent back to the Red Room and were torn apart from one another.

Natasha’s breathing grew heavier as she recalled the unfaithful day. The sight of her sister being taken, and not being able to do anything to help her; still haunted the redhead to this day.

“There were so many men with guns and armor, they literally ripped us away from each other. I was eleven and she was only six.”

Your heart sunk at your girlfriend’s words as her smile dropped. She tore her eyes away from yours as she blinked rapidly, fighting back tears, but failed. You reached your hand up to her cheek and wiped away the fallen droplets.

“I haven’t seen her since. I’d like to think that she found a way out and got a life of her own; a nice, happy life.”

Natasha placed her hand on top of yours before looking down at you once more. You sent her a soft smile when she let out a shaky breath.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I knew that the it was all fake, but it was still the best part of my childhood. It was real to me.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You nodded your head at her words. She took a brief pause, trying to regain her composure, before continuing.

“Even if we have no true relation to one another, and even if I haven’t seen her in years, she is still my little sister.”

Natasha finished off with a big gasp as sobs wracked her body. You sat up from her embrace and pulled her into your arms, just like you had many times before.

You rubbed her back soothingly as she cried into your shoulder, her tears hitting the exposed skin.

“She sounds amazing, baby. I’m really happy that you had some sort of happiness back then and I hope one day you get to see her again.”

You whispered and Natasha pulled away from the hug, still in your arms as her emerald eyes surrounded by a sea of red, a result of her crying.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I doubt she’d even want to see me. I didn’t even try to find her. I’m a horrible sister! I-“

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You immediately pressed your lips against hers, effectively getting the Russian to calm down. You broke the kiss when her breathing slowed.

“Honey, of course, she’d want to see you again. Like you said, you guys are sisters. I’m positive that it was just as real to her as it was to you.”

You reassured your girlfriend, her eyes a pool of worry and guilt. You rubbed your thumb against her waist, the material of your her hoodie beneath your touch.

“From what you’ve told me about the Red Room, it would’ve been impossible to find her. Stop beating yourself up over it. You’re the best, and I’m totally not biased or anything.”

Natasha let out a small chuckle at that and you smiled at her, wiping away the last of her tears. She collapsed into your hold further, shoving her face into the crook of your neck.

“Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you so much.”

Natasha’s words came out muffled as her face pressed further into your skin.

“You never need to thank me for anything. I’ll always be here for you, Natty.”

You hugged her as tight as you possibly could, her cold skin meeting your warmth. Natasha let out a small sigh at the feeling.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Wherever you go, I go.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

───────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

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[mercurygguk]

cockblocked. (m) | jjk

➵ summary; in which a pair of best friends are hopelessly in love with one another but they’re both too dumb to realize, even when everyone around them are dropping hints every five minutes. or alternatively; “you’re an idiot for thinking I wouldn’t love you back.”

pairing; jeongguk x f. reader

word count; 15.8k

rating; 18+

content; roommates au + friends (idiots) to lovers, smut/fluff/angst

warnings; mentions of alcohol, swearing, explicit sexual content, dirty talk, cum eating, oral sex (f. receiving), stupid jeongguk and stupid reader

a/n; i’ve been wanting to write a oneshot for so long with the ultimate boyfriend version of gguk, so i started writing with this gguk in mind. i hope you like it! ALSO, this is heavily unedited, so ignore any typos thx – enjoy!

find drabbles related to this fanfic through this tag !! 

Music is blaring through the speakers, shaking your body as you stand against the wall, watching people get shitfaced and stick their tongues down each other’s throats. There’s an untouched drink in your hand. It’s lukewarm by now and definitely tasting way worse than when it was made. You hate yourself for always saying yes to joining your friends at this type of scene. Quite simply, you hate every single thing about parties at frat houses. The music is shit, it’s nothing compared to your own favorite chill playlist filled with ballads and old classics. The alcohol smells and tastes like crap, and it doesn’t get you nearly as drunk as it should. To top it all off, your friends had left you alone for two random guys, so in conclusion, this night could’ve been better but it could’ve been much worse as well you suppose. It’s not like you’ve done anything stupid, so really, what’s the problem?

It’s not even that late when you decide to make your way upstairs. There must be a quieter place in this huge house where you can sit in silence until you deem it acceptable to leave again. But as you push your way past couples practically having sex on the staircase, you realize that all rooms are most likely taken. Maybe you should just leave now? You chuckle at your own situation. You haven’t even been here for two hours and you’re already planning on going home again. You shake your head to yourself as you continue your walk upstairs. It won’t hurt to see if you just happen to be lucky enough to find an empty room in this gigantic house.

The first room you come across seems quiet as you press your ear against the door’s surface. You take the chance and grab the handle before pushing yourself inside. You stop in your tracks when one of the two in there turns to look at you, the other one sitting with their head down a bucket. You grimace as you back out of the room, closing the door behind you. The smell of puke haunts you as you move on to the next door.

“Last room better be empty,” you whisper to yourself after checking almost every single room upstairs. You push yourself inside without a single warning to those who may be on the other side of the door. The scene in front of you doesn’t surprise you at all as you stay in the doorway. The pair stops their actions upon your presence.

“I swear that’s the seventh person to barge in here!” The girl, who was being grinded on by the dude on top of her, whines. The guy turns his head to look at you, a glare evident even though it’s mostly dark in the room. “And suddenly I’m not in the mood anymore,” the girl groans as she pushes Mr. Fuckboy off her, “see you around, Jeon.”

You watch with an amused smirk as the girl yanks her shirt off the ground, slipping it on and pushing past you out of the room, her shoulder bumping against yours. You chuckle to yourself, wondering why some girls just had to be like that. The guy you now know as ‘Jeon’ gets up from the bed, turning to face you fully. He’s not wearing a shirt which allows you to see the sleeve of tattoos on his right arm. His pants are unzipped and his belt is unbuckled, and yet he doesn’t seem fazed at all. You cock a brow at him as he finally notices and reaches down to zip his pants and buckle his belt.

“Thanks for cockblocking me by the way,” ‘Jeon’ shoots at you, making you scoff and cross your arms over your chest.

“Well, it’s not entirely my fault,” you defend yourself, gesturing to the door beside you, “you could’ve just locked the door.”

He chuckles at your defensive tone as he grabs his sweatshirt off the floor. He slips it over his head, messing his black, curly hair up even more than it was before. That girl must’ve had a good grip on it for it to look like such a mess in this very moment.

“Why are you even in here?” Jeon asks, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. It tames it a bit, you think to yourself as you watch it fall back onto his forehead and slightly into his eyes. Not bothering to answer his question, you decide on stepping further into the room, making your way to the balcony that happened to be in this exact room. Jeon watches you as you open the doors and head outside into the chilly night air. He follows behind, joining you on the balcony. Why he does so wonders the both of you. He leans on the railing beside you, looking at the side of your face. “Party not fun enough?”

You chuckle. “Just not my typical scene,” you tell him, glancing at him.

The stranger, who goes by ‘Jeon’ so far, is still looking at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “What is your typical scene then?”

This dude’s sudden interest in you doesn’t go unnoticed by you, so you decide to finally look at him fully instead of the drunk people on the front lawn below you.

“Somewhere quieter, somewhere you’re actually able to talk to people,” you explain to him, “and if there’s food, even better!”

This makes him laugh lightly, a glint in his eyes that makes your stomach tingle in a funny way. “A foodie then?”

You nod, a wide smile on your face. “Huge foodie.”

“What’s your name?” He asks, seeming genuinely interested in knowing it. “I’m Jeongguk.”

“___,” you tell him, “it’s nice to meet you, Jeongguk.”

He grins, a bunny smile appearing and you can’t help but think about how ridiculously cute he actually is. And yet still a fuckboy, without a doubt.

“Nice to meet you too, ___.”

You both watch the drunk people below in silence. You wonder what he’s thinking about. Does he think the same about these people as you or is he usually one of them? Maybe he’s one of those people who attends every single frat party. But he doesn’t seem to be very drunk at the moment. You’re about to ask him when he turns to look at you, eyes slightly wide with a glint in them as if he just thought of something brilliant.

“Wanna go somewhere else?” He suddenly asks. You squint your eyes at him, wondering what place he possibly could be thinking about. “I know this great place that has really good frozen yoghurt.”

You can’t help but let out a laugh, “you want frozen yoghurt at almost 1 am?”

He nods, a boyish smile on his face. “Yeah, why not? This party sucks aaaand you totally cockblocked me, so I see no reason to stay here anymore.”

Rolling your eyes, you chuckle at his attempt to make you feel guilty once again. “I stand my ground,”  you snicker, “you could’ve just locked the door, dumbass.”

Jeongguk shrugs it off, a tiny smirk appearing on his lips. “So, is that a yes?”

You purse your lips, pretending to think about his question when in reality you had made up your mind the second he mentioned frozen yoghurt. Food is never questioned, you always say yes when your friends ask, and now also when Jeongguk asks. You nod, smiling widely.

“Yeah, frozen yoghurt sounds really good, actually.”

Jeongguk grins, grabs your hand before pulling you back inside and out of the room. A mild tingle erupts in your stomach as you look down at how tightly his hand is gripping yours. You shake the thoughts from your head as you follow behind, letting him guide you downstairs to where the party is still ongoing. He pushes his way through the crowd of people, glancing back at you once in a while to make sure you’re still with him. Were you really just about to leave this party, leave your friends behind to get frozen yoghurt with a complete stranger? Guess so. Were you starting to regret saying yes? Surprisingly, no.

As you ride with the bus to the downtown part of the city, you learn a few things about Jeongguk. He tells you that he’s majoring in photography and that his camera is his most prized possession, he tells you about how he’s a huge gym rat and that he’s basically living his life at the gym when he isn’t studying or running around with his camera. You learn that Jeongguk loves food more than anything and that he’s quite a chef himself (but you also learn that he isn’t one to brag, so you basically had to force it out of him). He also tried to assure you that he wasn’t a fuckboy, which you had claimed him to be when you interrupted him in that bedroom. You only laugh it off, patting him on the shoulder as if to tell him it’s okay, that you don’t judge him for whatever sex life he’s living.

You find yourself enjoying his company more than you had expected to, laughing more than you ever would’ve at the frat party. Even at some point throughout the bus ride, your one leg had somehow managed to rest over his thigh, his hand on it as if it’s the most normal position for the two of you. And there’s not a single moment of awkward silence during the entire trip to that frozen yoghurt place which Jeongguk had been gushing about since you got on the bus.

“Why is this place even open so late?” You ask as Jeongguk holds the door open for you. You walk inside the shop, him following right behind. Before Jeongguk can answer your question, you gasp loudly as you take in the size of the place Jeongguk brought you to. He chuckles from beside you, grabbing your hand once again to pull you to the yoghurt machines. Your mouth is agape in amazement as you grab a cup, starting to mix different flavours. “Jeongguk, there’s too many flavours! How am I supposed to make one without having to pay a shit ton of money?”

Jeongguk laughs, eyes scrunching together and pearly white teeth showing. “I guess that means we have to visit again soon?” He says, more like a question than a statement.

You nod excitingly, making him laugh once again.

Jeongguk ends up paying for yours even after you fight him on it, but he didn’t take no for an answer and left you to watch as he paid for both cups of yoghurt, yours ending up more expensive than you had intended.

“Thanks, that was really kind of you,” you softly tell him as he hands you your cup, playfully glaring at him as he does so. “It’s on me next time.”

He shrugs it off, smiling softly. “Don’t worry about it, ___.”

You seat yourselves inside a booth, eating your frozen yoghurt in comfortable silence. Jeongguk finishes it rather quickly causing you to widen your eyes at his empty cup. You’re about to tell him he’ll end up with a brain freeze but the said brain freeze beats you to it. You watch as Jeongguk brings a hand to his forehead, groaning in agony.

“Fuck,” he swears, “wasn’t thinking about this when I shoved that down.”

You laugh, grimacing yourself as he grimaces in pain. After a while, it stops and Jeongguk rubs his forehead with a sigh.

“You good?” You ask as you try to stifle another laugh. He nods, glaring at you and then the empty cup in front of him. Pushing it to the side, you chuckle. “It’s not the yoghurt’s fault, Jeongguk.”

He sighs deeply as he leans back in his seat, watching you as you finish yours. You glance at him occasionally, offering him a small smile once in a while as well. His eyes are captivating in a way, dark brown irises and long lashes. You can’t hold his stare for long without feeling like he’s seeing right through you and reading everything there’s going on inside your head. A tiny crush is starting to develop at the bottom of your stomach, but you try to ignore it, not wanting to go in that direction right now.

“You never told me about yourself,” he then says, catching your attention once again as he leans over the table. You look at him, confused. “It was just me talking about myself on the way here and we never got to talk about you.”

“Oh!” You exclaim, “well, there isn’t much to tell.”

Jeongguk scoffs with a chuckle. “Come on, there has to be something.”

You think for a bit, trying to think about what you can tell him that could possibly be interesting for Jeongguk to hear about. “But what do you wanna know?” You ask him, smiling.

“Mhm,” he hums, “well, first of all, what’s your major?”

“English,” you answer.

He nods at that. “Favorite color?”

“Yellow.”

“Favorite animal?”

Without thinking, you smile and answer: “Bunnies.” 

You swear you see Jeongguk’s cheeks redden as the word leaves your mouth. You smile to yourself, resting your chin in your palm as you watch him, his cheeks flushed. He rubs his chin, searching for another question. 

“Ah! Celebrity crush?”

“Gong Yoo,” you sigh, dreamy gaze with what you’d call a real-life ‘heart eyes’ emoji expression on your face. Across from you, Jeongguk is pretending to gag. You swat at him, giggling lightly. “Shut up! You’re just jealous.”

“Never,” he retorted quickly, making you smirk slightly. “Okay, last question.”

You wait, anticipating something but not sure what exactly.

“Can I have your number?”

There’s nothing to do to stop the blush that colors your cheeks as you nod, smiling at him for being so damn smooth. He hands you his phone with a small smile, you type his phone number in and hand him his phone back. Jeongguk laughs as he notices how you put your name in his phone; ‘cockblocker <3′

“I’m glad we did this,” he suddenly says, his expression a serious but soft one. You nod in agreement.

“Me too,” you tell him, meaning it. This night turned out way better than you had expected, and it was all because you happened to cockblock Jeon Jeongguk.

You run around your dorm room with a towel wrapped around your body, wet hair all over the place as you try to figure out where you left your phone. Your phone is currently ringing and you know without a doubt who it is, but you can’t answer him because you might have lost it in the pile of clothes on your bed and floor.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you hiss to yourself repeatedly as you rummage through the clothes, the ringing of your phone becoming more persistent if that’s even possible. Then it stops ringing before you have the chance to locate it. You continue to look as you sigh, knowing it will most likely ring again in a few seconds. But it doesn’t. Instead there’s a knock on your door. You glance down at your body. 

“Great, still naked,” you groan to yourself and move to the door, opening it and revealing your curly-haired best friend (who may you mention looks exceptionally good in his ripped blue jeans, black hoodie and white sneakers). He marches into your room before you even get to greet him. You close the door after him before turning to look at him. You grip the towel tightly, terrified it will fall if you let go. And cause a very awkward situation for you and Jeongguk.

“What’s taking you so long? We have to-” Jeongguk stops as he turns to face you, just now realising you’re only wrapped in a towel and not fully dressed at all. “Oh.”

Your lips turn into a straight line, nodding. “Yep.”

His cheeks turn a slight red color as he quickly turns back around, his back to you. “Sorry,” he then says. You laugh at his embarrassment, clearly not as fazed about this as him. And he’s supposed to be the girl magnet, you think to yourself.

“Calm down, Gguk. I decided to let you in even though I’m basically naked, so really, don’t worry about it.”

He glances at you over his shoulder, not even slightly discreet about the way he looks you up and down. You feel your cheeks slightly heat up, noticing the way his eyes linger on your hand which is still clutching the towel tightly. It has been almost 9 months since you met Jeongguk at the frat party and there has been a slight tension of something you can’t quite decipher ever since. There have been more than several moments like these where Jeongguk is staring at you a bit too long or his touch lingers on you for a while longer than they probably were supposed to. You always shrug it off, not thinking too much of it because it’s probably all in your head anyway.

Jeongguk sits himself down on your bed, gesturing to the bathroom. “Well, get dressed already. Jimin’s performance is in like 30 minutes.”

“Right!” You shriek, now remembering what the purpose of your shower was. 

Jimin is Jeongguk’s best friend from high school and is a year ahead of you and Jeongguk at the same college. Jimin is a dance major, doing all kinds of dances varying from hiphop to contemporary and so on. He’s truly talented and even more of a sweetheart. You met him one night a few months back when you joined Jeongguk and his group of friends at a karaoke bar. You hit it off with Jimin in particular that night, and your friendship has only been getting better ever since.

Jeongguk watches with a lopsided smile as you scurry back to the bathroom to dry your hair. You haven’t even decided on an outfit yet. “What do I even wear?”

On your bed, Jeongguk is looking through your clothes. He holds up a red skirt without thinking, just simply liking the color of it.. “What about this?” He calls out to you, having no idea at all what you could possibly wear to go see a dance performance. You open the bathroom door slightly to look at him and the piece of clothing in his hand.

“A flaming red miniskirt?” You question, raising a single eyebrow at him. He catches your tone and drops it to the floor, looking for something else.

He tries again as he holds up a pair of light denim jeans with a cute, hesitating smile on his face. “Jeans?”

You grin, nodding, “much better.”

The place is crowded once you and Jeongguk arrive at the theatre where Jimin is going to perform. You look around, trying to see if you can spot Jimin. You want to wish him good luck before he gets on stage. Just as you locate him, he looks up and locks eyes with you. You wave excitingly, grabbing Jeongguk’s arm and pulling him towards his own best friend. Jeongguk lets you drag him along with a small smile on his lips.

“Hey, you guys made it!” Jimin beamed, hugging you tightly. You smile as Jimin gives you a light squeeze before pulling away.

Jeongguk grins at his best friend. “We wouldn’t miss it, hyung.”

Jimin pats Jeongguk on the shoulder in an appreciative manner. “Well, take a seat. The show is starting in 15 minutes or so,” he gestures to the seats, “I have to get backstage before the stylists have my ass for not being ready on time.”

You chuckle, not surprised that Jimin is one to always struggle with being on time. It has happened once or twice before.

“Good luck!” You make sure to tell him. Beside you, Jeongguk offers his hyung an encouraging smile and a thumbs up. Jimin gives your hand a squeeze before heading off to backstage. You both watch him run off, the stylist already smacking his arm as she tells him to sit down. You glance at Jeongguk who’s already laughing because of his best friend. “Where do you wanna sit?” You ask him.

He shrugs, “you decide, I’m happy anywhere.” You nod and purse your lips, looking over the theatre.

“Let’s just sit here,” you point to the seats right beside you. Jeongguk agrees, his hand coming up to rest against the small of your back as to tell you to sit first. Your skin tingles underneath your shirt at his touch, his hand strong but soft on you and lingering a tad bit longer than necessary. You sit down, Jeongguk plopping down beside you. His hand is resting on the armrest between the two of you and it takes all in you to not let your own rest on top of his.

To say your crush on Jeongguk had become less and less the past 9 months would be a total lie. If anything, it has only become worse and yet you can’t get yourself to tell him because you’re sure he doesn’t feel the same way. He’s still the ‘Jeon’ you met at the party almost a year ago, his fuckboy tendencies coming through once in a while and you’ve seen girls leave his room in the morning when you’d arrive at his place to hang out. And it hurt slightly every single time but you’ve never considered telling him why it hurts. He doesn’t even know it hurts you. But then again, here he is on a Saturday night, spending his evening with you to watch Jimin’s dance performance when in reality, he has seen Jimin perform multiple times. More times than he can count and it’s nothing new to him. He could be balls deep in some random girl right now and yet he’s here. With you. And his leg is brushing against yours, his shoulder is also touching you. It would be so easy to just tangle your fingers through his but your insecurities and doubt stop you from doing anymore. You sigh deeply, leaning back in your seat.

Jeongguk notices the heavy sigh you let out, looking at you with slight worry in his eyes. “Everything okay?”

You nod, offering him a soft smile. “Yeah, just a bit tired,” you answer him, a small yawn escaping your lips. It was partly true. You can tell he doesn’t quite believe you but decides against it, not wanting to push you into telling him.

Jimin’s performance starts right then. The lights dimmed down as he appears on stage along with a group of other people, his dance team that consists of other guys. Some of them are also Jeongguk’s friends; Taehyung and Hoseok. You watch with wide, exciting eyes, feeling very proud of Jimin for finally doing this performance when you know how much he has been working on it and how time consuming it has been for him. What you don’t notice throughout the entire performance is that Jeongguk is occasionally watching you instead of the performance, his heart beating just a tad bit faster whenever you almost catch him.

When Jimin finishes and bows to the crowd, you stand up for an applause, smiling widely as he thanks everyone by bowing one more time and then heading off stage.

Jeongguk taps your shoulder, motioning his head as if to tell you to leave. “Let’s go find him,” he says over the music that’s still playing. You nod, grabbing your things and following right behind. You squeal, happy and excited as you spot Jimin by the stage. He turns around just as you reach him, engulfing him in a tight hug. Jeongguk stands by behind you, watching you hug the living shit out of his best friend. It doesn’t feel right, he thinks to himself.

“You were amazing!” You cheered, squeezing him tightly as he did to you earlier. He laughs at your gushing excitement as you pull apart, thanking you and flashing you that charming smile of his.

Jimin glances at Jeongguk, smiling lips falling into a straight line. You don’t notice but Jeongguk is glaring at Jimin and Jimin knows exactly why. He scratches the back of his head, glancing back at his team before looking back at you and Jeongguk.

“We, um, we’re headed to a bar downtown. You guys wanna join?”

You look at Jeongguk briefly before smiling at Jimin, nodding, “sure.”

“Great! We’re leaving in a few, I just need to pack up my stuff,” Jimin grins and heads over to his team. You spot two people that you know — Hoseok and Taehyung. Taehyung caught your eye a lot during the performance, his mop of curly black hair stood out a lot and the way he was so into the performance and the mood of the songs. Truly mesmerising. 

Jeongguk clears his throat beside you, letting you know that he’s still right beside you. Your cheeks heat up at the possible chance of being caught ogling a bit too long at Taehyung. 

“Let’s go,” you pipe up, leaving Jeongguk’s side to go find Jimin again. The tension that’s starting to form is too intense for you right now. You feel Jeongguk’s eyes on you as you walk away and up to Jimin. Jeongguk’s heart drops a little when he can tell that you decide to walk with Jimin all the way to the bar downtown. He doesn’t get to stand there and grumble too long because Hoseok and Taehyung are quick to pull him along, dragging him in the same direction you and Jimin left in.

Your laughter sounds like a sweet melody to Jeongguk as he watches you from his seat at the bar, laughing at something Taehyung says to you. You’ve been sitting beside Taehyung for the past two hours, laughing and having a good time which is great but Jeongguk doesn’t like how close to you Taehyung is sitting and he certainly doesn’t like the way you have to touch Taehyung’s arm every time you laugh at something he says. Jeongguk takes a swig of his beer as Jimin plops down on the seat beside him. Jimin follows his line of sight, sighing deeply once he realizes what has caused him to become so quiet. 

“Dude, you’re gonna burn holes in their skulls if you keep staring like that,” Jimin calls out, snapping Jeongguk out of his own thoughts.

Jeongguk sighs, taking his eyes off you and Taehyung. “Yeah,” he trails off.

Eyeing him carefully, Jimin places a hand on his shoulder. “If it’s that bad, why don’t you just go talk to her?” He suggests, the tone sounding hesitant.

Jeongguk glances at Jimin. “You know I can’t do that,” he grumbles, turning his back to you and Taehyung, facing the bar instead. 

Jimin nods as he remembers why. “Sure, but can you explain it to me again? I still don’t see the point.”

Rolling his eyes, Jeongguk runs a hand through his hair only for it to fall back into his eyes. He really needed a haircut soon, he thinks to himself.

“I can’t tell her how I feel because that’d ruin our friendship and I’d rather have her be my friend than nothing at all,” he explains to Jimin as if it’s obvious. And it was true. Jeongguk’s straight up terrified that you’ll find out how he really feels about you and then proceed to end your friendship. It’s a risk he isn’t willing to take, maybe someday but just not yet.

Jimin hums to himself. “What if she feels the same then?” Jeongguk stays silent. “Ever thought about that possibility?”

Shaking his head, he sighs, almost sounding like he has given up on you already. “Listen, I just know that she doesn’t. She wouldn’t be over there with Tae right now if that was the case- Ow! What the hell was that for?”

He rubs the back of his head, pouting lightly at his best friend. Jimin shakes his head. “You’re dumber than I thought,” he concludes before getting up from his seat and heading back to the table where the rest of his dance team is sitting. 

Jeongguk slumps in his seat, dropping his head into his hand. Jimin is right; he really is dumb. But as he glances back at you and sees the wide smile on your face, the same smile he can get out of you with his stupid jokes and goofy faces, he just knows that he wouldn’t be able to live without you even if it meant he got to tell you how he really feels. Jeongguk turns his back to the scene that is you and Taehyung again, finishing his bottle of beer before ordering a new one.

It isn’t even him who walks you home to your dorm that night. Taehyung gets the chance and swoops right in, offering to walk you home. You let him without hesitation and Jeongguk can only stand back, watching you walk off with Taehyung by your side. And it doesn’t go unnoticed, neither by him or Jimin, that you also forgot to hug your best friend goodnight. Jimin offers Jeongguk an apologetic smile, patting his shoulder and wishing him a good night before heading home with Hoseok, who’s also his roommate besides being his teammate.

Jeongguk is pretty sure everyone who passes by him on his way home can hear the sound of his heart breaking a bit more for every step he takes. But what does it matter? You don’t want this broken heart anyway.

“I’m thinking about moving out of the frat house.”

Your eyes widen in surprise and you choke on the coffee Jeongguk had just served you, coughing lightly and holding a “one second” hand up to Jeongguk who looks at you worried. Once your coughing dies down, you look at him, still surprised.

“You what?”

Jeongguk chuckles in his seat across from you. “I don’t feel like staying at the frat house anymore,” he shrugs, “I earn enough from working here to find my own place.”

Jeongguk’s little part time job at the campus café actually does pay him a good amount of money, but you wouldn’t expect anything else since he’s here more than he’s in class. The hours he dedicates to this place also gives him the right to chill in a booth with you during his shift because the owner of the shop gives him that much freedom. He has her hooked around his little finger and she doesn’t even know it. You smile at the thought, knowing very well that every single woman — old and young — would let Jungkook do whatever he wants after being flashed that charming smile of his. You guess that’s just the way his charms work.

“What’s on your mind?” Jeongguk asks, tapping your forehead to get you back to earth.

Your cheeks turn pink, “sorry.”

Jeongguk smiles at you, eyes glinting like they always do behind that long hair. “Actually, I already found a place I would like to rent, it’s not far from campus and it’s the perfect size even though it’s a 3-bedroom apartment,” he tells you. You smile, happy for him.

“That’s great, Gguk!” You beamed. “I’m happy for you.”

He did say 3-bedroom apartment though. Does that mean he’ll get himself a roommate? Your head fills with possible options for a roommate for him. Jimin could be a good one, but he already lives off campus with Hoseok. Taehyung lives by himself in a studio apartment, so that wasn’t an option either. He could ask that other guy he sometimes hangs out with, that one from his photography class and his frat house too. Namjoon, was it? You purse your lips, several faces showing up in your mind. Jeongguk clears his throat across from you, bringing you back once again.

“You’re zoning out a lot today,” he states, concern covering his face. You chuckle. 

“I was just thinking about who you could ask to be your roommate,” you tell him and Jeongguk opens his mouth to speak up but you continue, “most of your friends already live off campus but you could ask that Namjoon fella, he still lives in the frat house, right?”

Jeongguk nods.

“He seems like a nice guy,” you ponder, finger tapping your chin. “You could just find some stranger too, but that’s quite a risk, isn’t it? Personally, I would prefer someone I know already, but you do you.”

You hear him sigh in defeat as you ramble on. “Or what about-”

Jeongguk cuts you off. “I already know who I’m gonna ask,” he blurts.

“Oh.” You fall silent. 

“Yeah,” Jeongguk says, “she’s rambling her ass off right now and she does that a lot to be honest, so I don’t know if I still wanna ask her.”

Your cheeks are burning as Jeongguk smirks at you, knowing very well that you’re aware he’s talking about you. Composing yourself, you sit upright in your seat. “Well, what if she doesn’t wanna move out of her dorm?”

Jeongguk chuckles sarcastically. “Oh, but she does,” he snickered, “with the amount of times she has complained about the shitty shower in her room, I’m convinced she’s just waiting for the opportunity to get out of there.” 

“Am not!” You defend yourself even though you know he’s right. 

Jeongguk laughs. “Shut up.”

You cross your arms over your chest, pretending to be offended but you can’t hold the act for long as you burst into laughter. “Okay, you’re right. I really do hate that shower.”

“Thought so,” Jeongguk smirks lightly. He stands from his seat, knowing he has to get back to work before the customers think he’s some lazy barista. He offers you another one of those charming smiles of his. “You’re my best friend, ___. I can’t imagine anyone else in that room other than you. So just think about it, yeah?”

You nod, smiling. You watch him walk off, heading for the cashier. He moves around the counter, patting the other cute barista boy (he’s a sophomore and he basically idolizes Jeongguk) on the shoulder as he passes by him and continues out to the back of the café. You turn back to your laptop and books, smiling to yourself as you take another sip of your coffee, made (with a tiny amount of love, but you don’t know that) by Jeongguk.

You don’t get too much time to yourself and your assignment before a certain dancer slips into the seat Jeongguk was in previously. You glance up at Jimin, who’s smiling slyly at you. You give him a confused but curious look, closing your laptop screen. “What?”

He nods his head in Jeongguk’s direction. “Did he ask you?”

“Asked me what?”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “Don’t play dumb, you know what I’m talking about.”

You shrug. “He did,” you squint at him as he cheers, clapping his hands.

“Well,” he gushes, “did you say yes?” His excitement is bouncing off the walls as he leans over the table. You’re close to getting a whiplash from his quickly changing expression as you watch his face fall not even two seconds later. “Did you say no? Why?”

You shake your head, not able to keep up with him. “Calm down, will you? I didn’t even get to answer you.”

Jimin breathes out and slumps back in his seat. “Sorry,” he pouts but grins nevertheless, “I’m just excited.”

“You don’t say,” you mumble under your breath. “I didn’t give him an answer yet, he told me to think about it.”

Across from you, Jimin smiles at you - his smile hinting at something. You let out a small groan. “Jimin! I know what you’re thinking and no, I’m not gonna do it.”

“What?” Jimin exclaims, hands up in surrender. “You don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

Now it’s your time to roll your eyes because yes, you do in fact know what he’s about to say. Jimin has been pestering you ever since he met you about the fact that you’re ‘pining’ after Jeongguk, your feelings on your sleeve and obvious to anyone around you, except for Jeongguk. The fact that you haven’t even told Jimin how you feel about Jeongguk just shows how well Jimin reads people and apparently you’re like an open book, especially to Jimin. Not to certain others.

“Have you ever thought about the possibility that he might like you too?” Jimin questions you, the same question he asked Jeongguk at the bar the other night. You nod your head at this, sighing deeply in exasperation.

“I have, Jimin, I really have,” you mumble, “but it’s obvious he doesn’t feel the same way. I can just tell that I’m nothing but a good friend to him.”

Jimin might scream at the both of you very soon. How blind and stupid can people actually be?

“If you say so,” he backtracks. You lean back in your seat, pen coming up to lay between your teeth. You bite on it as you stare at nothing in particular, Jeongguk is filling up your brain like he lives there rent free. “Look, ___,” Jimin catches your attention again, “accept his offer, maybe you’ll be surprised.”

He gives you a friendly, comforting smile and a squeeze of your hand before he gets up. He waves at Jeongguk who stands behind the counter again before leaving the café. His words linger around you. “Maybe you’ll be surprised.” Jimin had said and you wonder why he would say that. You know Jeongguk quite well even after less than a year as friends; what could possibly surprise you at this point?

Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad to live in the same place as Jeongguk. This thought has appeared in your head for the past hours since you left the café. Now you’re sitting here, in your bed with a Netflix show, which you’re not paying attention to, running through several episodes. Jeongguk’s proposition has been raking up your mind since he left you to yourself at the café. It’s like he knew you would have to think about it when he told you to do exactly that.

And as you sit here, thoughts running at full speed, you try to come up with pros and cons for living under the same roof as your bff #1. Pros are that you get a nice shower every time you have to bath, you will live off Jeongguk’s delicious gastronomic talent and you’ll have your best friend close to you at all times. Cons would be the possibility of getting tired of each other even though you already spend five out of seven days together during the week. Another con would be witnessing girls leave his room and your apartment in the morning after having heard her scream his name all night. That specific thought makes a weird, not-so-great feeling appear in your stomach, making you frown deeply. But you will have to realize sooner or later that Jeongguk won’t ever see you that way and that this crush of yours is a lost cause. Maybe it really is time to just get over it. You sigh deeply, grabbing your phone off the nightstand to send Jeongguk a text.

you [11:38 pm]: i’ll do it, but you gotta make me delicious food every day

You wait for his reply, staring at your screen. Heart hammers wildly as three dots appear on the screen. Your breath hitches in your throat as you read his reply.

gguk [11:40 pm]: anything for you princess ;)

Jeongguk has never in these months of you knowing him, called you a nickname like that. And the way your cheeks blush as you imagine him saying it, tells on you. You love it.

Jeongguk groans as he puts down your last box on the floor of your new bedroom. It’s a box with all your English books and there’s a lot. “Have you even read all of these?”

You stop in your little project of hanging up all your precious polaroid pictures, turning to look at him. You scoff, lying as you say: “yes, of course.”

He smirks lightly, giving you a look that says ‘nice try’. You laugh to yourself, turning back around to your polaroids. 

Jeongguk plops down on your bed, head laying on his hands as he brings them up behind his head. Today is a day for the books, you thought to yourself when he first arrived along with Jimin to get all your boxes and shove them into Jimin’s tiny car. He’s wearing blue jeans again, which you absolutely love on him, and he has styled them simply with a black t-shirt, showing off his tattooed right arm. You’ve been staring at him quite a few times since you arrived at the apartment you and Jeongguk have rented together. And it wasn’t helping how his arms kept flexing as he carried your boxes with all your shit up to your new bedroom.

He watches you in silence as you hang up the polaroids, standing with one in particular a bit longer. You smile as you reach down, showing it to him. “It’s us,” you smile softly.

Jeongguk takes the polaroid from your fingers, holding it closer to his face to see it better. It’s a polaroid photo taken at the Han River from that one night where you went out to eat dinner with his friends and some of your girlfriends. You had brought your polaroid camera along, hoping to catch some memories with it tonight. Jeongguk had noticed it that evening, grabbing it from your purse and snapping a ‘selfie’ of the two of you.

He smiles at the photo, remembering that evening as clear as if it was yesterday. That evening was one of the first times Jeongguk realized that he was indeed absolutely smitten by you and that you had him wrapped around your finger. You just didn’t know and you still don’t. “That was a great night,” he reminisces, handing you the photo back. You hang it up on the wall, right in the middle of all the others.

“Yeah,” you sigh deeply, “it was.”

Jeongguk claps his hands on his thighs as he sits up on the edge of your bed. You plop down beside him. “Pizza for dinner?” He suggests.

You nod frantically, “yes, please.”

And that’s how you and Jeongguk end up on the couch, watching that stupid movie with Gong Yoo. You’re completely sucked into that movie, mouth open in awe as you watch Gong Yoo unfolding his charms on the tv-screen. “Wow,” you breathe out as he kisses the main female character. Jeongguk scoffs from beside you, rolling his eyes before dropping his head backwards. The ceiling is more interesting than that ridiculous movie.

“Why is everyone so obsessed with this guy?” he asks, looking back at the screen again.

You shoot him a glare. “Are you sure you're not jealous?”

Jeongguk gasps dramatically, pretending to be offended by your words as he places a hand over his heart. “Am not!”

“Am too!” You laugh, scooting closer to him on the couch. “Admit it, you don’t like Gong Yoo because he’s getting a lot more attention than you.”

Scoffing again, Jeongguk knows that’s a lie and suddenly feeling like he needs to prove a point. He has girls waiting for him, not that you don’t know that. He smirks at you and says: “You know that’s a big fat lie, ___.”

You cock a brow at him. “You’re so full of yourself,” you scoff and get off the couch, taking the pizza boxes with you to clean up, “and you’re jealous, it’s obvious.”

Jeongguk scoffs right back at you as he gets up to follow you into the kitchen. “I am not jealous of some actor,” he states, “I have no reason to be.” You sigh to yourself, your back facing him as he leans in the doorway to the kitchen. You know very well that he has no reason to be jealous of some actor and you certainly don’t need him to remind you. He watches you clean up with a frown. “___.”

“What, Gguk?” You laugh humorlessly, turning to face him. “I get it, you’re hot and a woman magnet and so on, you don’t have to explain it to me.”

He smirks lightly, pushing himself off the wall and stepping closer to you. “Who’s the jealous one now?” He chuckled, arms crossed over his chest as he towers over you. You groan and push at him, making him take a step back from you.

“You’re so annoying,” you grumbled, moving around him and out of the kitchen. Jeongguk watches you walk away towards your bedroom. “Goodnight, roomie,” you call out, waving a hand over your head without glancing back at him. There was a tone of sarcasm in your voice. The door to your bedroom being closed as Jeongguk sighs to himself, wandering his way to his own bedroom. As soon as his head hits the pillow, he’s asleep. The day must’ve been more tiring than he had thought. A nice memory of him and a pretty girl at the Han River fills up his mind as he dozes off into the night.

The next morning you’re sitting at the dining table, laptop and books out. Your reading glasses are resting on the bridge of your nose and your hair is in a messy bun, making you look relaxed as you study for whatever class you have coming up. Jeongguk strolls out of his bedroom, no shirt… only a pair of grey sweatpants. You glance at him as he passes by you, heading directly for the fridge. You can hear him rustle around for a bowl and a spoon. A minute later he joins you at the dining table, a bowl of fruit loops in front of him.

“Morning,” he says softly, voice still hoarse from waking up. Your stomach tingles at the sound and you mentally slap yourself for being such a wimp for him. You don’t give him a response, continuing to read in your book and type away on your laptop. You can feel him glancing at you occasionally as he eats his cereal. Jeongguk pouts lightly, sighing deeply as you don’t pay him any attention. This is not how he expected the first morning in the apartment to be like. He grumbles to himself for a bit, contemplating on what to say to fill out the silence that has overcome the two of you. An idea pops into his head. 

“Hey, I was thinking,” he starts, making you look at him briefly. You focus back on your laptop. Jeongguk falls silent.

“I’m listening,” you tell him, voice soft. “I just gotta finish this, but I’m listening.”

Jeongguk nods, hands fumbling. Why was he suddenly so nervous around you? There is absolutely no reason to be. Was it the tone from last time in which you had told him goodnight and then left him to himself that had him so on edge? He can’t really tell.

“I was thinking that we could have a small get-together with our friends, like a moving-in party?” He suggests. This idea actually sounds interesting, you think to yourself as you look back at him. Jeongguk smiles softly, continuing: ���We can just invite the guys I usually hang with and then you can invite Lisa and Jisoo?”

You nod, smiling. “That does sound fun,” you agree on his idea, “let’s do it.”

A grin appears on Jeongguk’s lips. “Tonight? If people are able to make it with such short notice?”

Again, you nod. “I’m sure they don’t have more important stuff to attend on this Saturday evening,” you chuckle, knowing your friends and the fact that they rarely have much to do except for school, work and hanging out with each other. Same goes for Jeongguk’s friends. 

“You’re right,” Jeongguk laughs, feeling more at ease now that you’ve joked around with him a bit instead of just sitting there in silence and not really noticing him. It feels better when you laugh, joke around and talk like you usually do without the annoyed and slightly jealous tone. “I’ll text around, asking them to come over tonight.”

You nod lightly, watching him get up from his seat and bringing his cereal bowl to the kitchen. “Remember to tell them to bring their own alcohol! We have nothing in this house yet,” you call out, chuckling slightly. You really didn’t. You almost didn’t have any food either. Maybe today calls for a shopping trip to the supermarket. You turn back to your laptop, eager to finish the assignment and then getting to the supermarket to buy snacks and some food for your empty kitchen cupboards. Maybe Jeongguk can join you on the trip there.

“You think this is enough?” Jeongguk wonders out loud as he places the bowls of snacks down on the coffee table. You join him a few seconds later, a bunch of glasses in your arms for the beverage. Jeongguk notices you joggling all those glasses, rushing to your side with wide eyes to take some from you.

“Thanks,” you softly say, letting him take most of the glasses and placing them down on the table as well. He smiles sweetly in return. “I think it’s enough, we have a few extra chips bags in the cupboard.”

“Perfect,” Jeongguk grins, clapping his hands and rubbing them together in excitement. “This is gonna be fun, I didn’t expect everyone to say yes but they’re literally all coming here in like ten minutes.”

You chuckle softly, making Jeongguk’s stomach do small backflips. He ignores them as he plops down on the couch. “I’m excited,” you sigh, plopping down beside him.

Jeongguk nods, smiling still. “Me too,” he murmurs.

You and Jeongguk fall into small-talk as you wait for your guests to arrive. A bit more than ten minutes pass and the first guest knocks on the door. Jeongguk gets up to let them in, not getting to say much before he’s engulfed in a tight hug by Hoseok. “Hey man,” Hoseok grins, squeezing Jeongguk tightly. He pats him on the back before letting go and walking further inside. Jimin and Taehyung follow right behind, both giving Jeongguk one of those guy hugs.

You lock eyes with Taehyung, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you. He lets go of Jeongguk to make his way to you, smiling widely. He looks really good, you think to yourself as he stops in front of you. His dark hair was curlier and more unruly than the last time you saw him which was only a few days ago. His smile was wide and bright as always, and his eyes a warm, dark brown. “Hey,” he greets you, smiling.

“Hi,” you reply, leaning closer to give him a hug. Jeongguk is closing the door behind Jimin as he glances your way and notices how Taehyung is already at your side, hugging you. He feels himself become slightly frustrated but Jimin is quick to push a hand against his chest, stopping him from walking over to you and make himself look stupid.

“Don’t,” he shakes his head at Jeongguk, eyeing him down until Jeongguk looks slightly less like he could punch Taehyung in the face right now. His jealousy is starting to get the best of him. He watches you, noticing how you smile that specific smile whenever you get flustered or complimented. Jimin glances in the direction of you and Taehyung, sighing as he looks back at Jeongguk. “You don’t get to be like this, Gguk. Not when you haven’t done anything to get her yourself.”

Jeongguk breathes out deeply, taking his eyes away from the relationship that’s starting to unfold in front of his eyes. Jimin is right, once again. He has no right to get all worked up and angry at the thought of you with Taehyung. At least Taehyung has the balls to actually flirt with you. Jeongguk feels like it backfires every time he tries to. Maybe it just isn’t meant to be you and him. With one glance at you and Taehyung, he joins Jimin in the kitchen to get himself a beer.

The night goes on, the rest of your friends arriving not long after Taehyung, Hoseok and Jimin. Lisa and Jisoo sit with you at the dining table, having fun as all of you laugh loudly at whatever you’re talking about. Jeongguk has been watching you tonight more than he’d like to admit, almost being caught a few times. But he was quick enough to look away before you could lock eyes with him. He hasn’t spoken much to you since your friends had arrived which made his heart fall a bit further into his stomach. 

You glance in his direction, smiling softly. Jeongguk smiles back at you, deciding to get up and talk to you for the first time in hours. Grabbing his beer off the table, he’s about to get up and make his way to you, but he quickly stops in his tracks. Taehyung appears out of nowhere, standing close to you. His hands are resting on your shoulders as you look up at him. He smiles and says something Jeongguk can’t make out. You get up from your seat, letting Taehyung take your hand in his and guide you to the small balcony that is in you and Jeongguk’s apartment. 

Jeongguk doesn’t notice Lisa and Jisoo looking at him, sad smiles on their faces as his face drops and he heads for the kitchen instead, walking past them. You nor Jeongguk knows that the two girls are secretly rooting for the two of you to finally get out of your heads and actually date. It has been too long of this pining after one another, but you’re both in denial no matter how much either Lisa, Jisoo, Jimin or whoever it is, tells you to confess to each other. Lisa gets up from her seat, letting Jisoo know she’ll be right back. 

Lisa sighs deeply at the sight when she enters the kitchen. Jeongguk is hunched over the kitchen counter, head in his hands. She walks up to him, leaning against the counter beside him. Jeongguk senses her presence, grumbling lightly. “What?”

She scoffs, throwing a slap to his back causing him to stand up and face her. He glares at her, but he doesn’t say anything as he leans back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. He’s frowning deeply, looking at the floor. “What’s going on with you?” Lisa asks, even though she knows what’s up. Jeongguk glances quickly at her before diverting his gaze back to the floor.

“Nothing,” he shrugs.

Lisa scoffs again, not believing any of his bullshit. “Bullshit, Jeon. I know this is about ___.”

He can’t help but roll his eyes at the mention of your name. He’s about to have had enough of talking about you and his feelings for you. Jeongguk is quite literally wearing his heart on his sleeve for everyone to see and yet you’re the only one who doesn’t notice. “I just needed a moment to myself,” he mumbles, sighing deeply before taking a swig of his 4th or 5th beer of tonight.

Lisa nods, “I get that. I mean, she did go with Tae just as you were about to approach her.”

“Yup,” Jeongguk pops the ‘p’, another sip of his beer down his throat. “She’s with Tae, probably already head over heels for him.”

The annoyance in his tone and the slight disgust makes Lisa sigh. “Listen, Jeongguk, you’re doing nothing. You walk around, hang out with her and now you live with her and she still doesn’t know. ___ is blind as hell and she won’t know about your feelings if you don’t acknowledge them yourself.”

“I know,” Jeongguk groans, “but I just don’t- I don’t think she’ll ever see me like I see her.”

Lisa pats his shoulder, giving him a smile that probably is supposed to comfort him but it only makes him feel like she’s pitying him. “Just think about telling her how you feel instead of getting hurt every time someone else does what you could be doing.”

And with that, she leaves him alone in the kitchen again. Staying in his place for a few minutes, he contemplates going out to the balcony and demanding to talk to you, even if it means he has to interrupt your conversation with Taehyung. He empties his beer, leaving it behind as he makes his way to the balcony. He opens the door slightly, slipping outside to see you there with your hand in Taehyung’s. His face drops a little along with his heart. He covers it well with a small smile, his heart hammering hard inside his chest still.

“Hey Tae,” he says, “can I steal ___ for a bit?”

Taehyung nods at his younger friend, looking back at you. “So Friday then?” Taehyung smiles at you.

Friday? What happens Friday?

Jeongguk looks at you, awaiting your answer like Taehyung. “Yep,” you nod, smiling softly back at the curly-haired man in front of you.

“Awesome, it’s a date then,” he grins and lets go of your hand, heading back inside. Jeongguk moves to the side, letting Taehyung through the door. You glance at your roommate slash best friend, watching him as he moves closer. Silence overcomes you for the second time today and Jeongguk finds it unbearable. There’s usually never silence between you or around you, only when you have study dates and even then you always end up chatting instead of actually studying. 

Jeongguk clears his throat to break the silence. “So a date, huh?”

You look at him, a small hesitant smile on your lips but it looks closer to being a frown than an actual smile. “Yeah,” you trail off, finger fumbling as you lean over the balcony fence. Jeongguk’s hands are in his pockets but he feels them itching, dying to grab your fumbling ones.

“He’s a great guy,” Jeongguk suddenly blurts. You look at him confused. “Taehyung, I mean.”

You nod slowly, wondering where this conversation is going.

“But he loves girls, ___,” he rambles on, “you know, like, he has a hard time focusing on just one.”

Your face becomes hard, slightly offended on Taehyung’s behalf as the words leave Jeongguk’s mouth. “Oh, so he’s like you?”

Jeongguk falls silent at your words and it feels like a low blow. He sighs and frowns, looking away from you, staring at the almost empty street below. You can’t help but feel slightly guilty from saying that but it’s not a lie. Jeongguk has a booty call or two during the week, always having someone to contact whenever he needs his dick wet. But you still feel bad for firing off such a harsh comment.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, softly touching his bicep before heading back inside, leaving Jeongguk alone on the balcony.

You’re right, he thinks, but it’s only you who actually matters to him.

Two months have passed since your moving-in party, and things have been a bit tense around the apartment ever since. Taehyung has visited the apartment more often than any of your shared friends, but not for Jeongguk’s company. No, yours. And even though Jeongguk really has no say in your relationship with Taehyung, he still can’t help himself as he finds it ridiculous. He can tell you’re not as much in it as Taehyung is and it’s quite painful to watch. Why you’re not as into it as him is still a mystery to Jeongguk.

Today is no different as Jeongguk sits on the couch, watching his favorite cartoon when the doorbell rings. He groans lowly as he gets up from the couch to open the door. Taehyung appears in front of him, his big and unruly curly hair taking all the attention. Dude should get a haircut, Jeongguk thinks to himself as he leaves the door open for Taehyung to enter. 

“Hey man,” Taehyung greets Jeongguk, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. “Is ___ home?”

Jeongguk cocks a single eyebrow. Shouldn’t he have checked that before coming here. “She’s in the shower,” he tells Taehyung, plopping back down on the couch. Taehyung nods, thanking him quietly before heading for your bedroom. Jeongguk watches him, grumbling under his breath because he’s starting to get tired of seeing Taehyung’s face that often during the week. He sighs to himself, trying to focus on his cartoon show instead of the sounds of you giggling inside your room.

Long hours pass before Jeongguk hears Taehyung leaving, the clock striking eleven in the evening before he’s out of you and Jeongguk’s apartment. He did leave quite in a rush though, making Jeongguk curious. He leaves his laptop on as he gets up from his bed to go to your bedroom. He knocks on your slightly opened door, peeking inside. You’re nowhere to be seen making him frown and furrow his eyebrows. He hears shuffling in the kitchen as he moves to the living room. When he reaches the doorway to the kitchen, he leans against it. You’re moving around, rummaging through the cupboards for something, dressed in pajamas shorts and an oversized t-shirt, one that looks awfully a lot like one of his.

“What are you looking for?” Jeongguk calls out, making you jump in surprise. You hold a hand to your chest as you turn to look at him, eyes wide. Jeongguk smirks lightly at your shocked expression, noticing the light blush that appears on your cheeks.

You turn your back to him to continue to look through the cupboards. “Just some snacks, I’m craving some right now,” you tell your best friend who you have no idea is just behind you. You freeze in your actions as Jeongguk reaches up to grab his usual snack off the top shelf. He hands it to you, smiling softly. You squint at him, wondering why he’s giving you his favorite snacks and the last pack at that.

As if he can read your mind: “You can have them if you want.”

Smiling, you open the pack and pop one into your mouth, the crispy consistency making you sigh in content. Jeongguk laughs at your happy expression, knowing the way to your heart is usually through food. 

You grab another piece, holding it up to Jeongguk’s lips. He glances at it before opening his mouth and letting you feed him. His eyes are on yours the entire time as his lips brush your fingertips. Your heart leaps, making you pull your fingers back quickly. Jeongguk doesn’t seem to notice as he smiles, chewing the snack with the same happy expression you sported just moments ago.

“Let’s talk,” you suddenly blurt out, Jeongguk looking confused which causes you to explain further. “We haven’t like talked talked in a long time, so uh yeah, let’s talk?”

Your declaration has turned into a hesitant question as you wait, needing some kind of response.

“Sure,” he shrugs, smiling again. As he turns on his heel, you smile back and follow him into the living room. You plop down beside him on the couch, unintentionally letting your legs rest against his thigh as you pull them up under you. He glances at your bare legs for a second before diverting his eyes to you. “So what do you wanna talk about?”

You shrug, “I don’t know, life?”

Jeongguk chuckles, “life?”

You nod enthusiastically, smiling at him, “yes, life.”

He purses his lips, wondering if there’s anything to tell. You basically know most things already and not much has happened the past weeks except for the fact that his little ‘I’m in love with my best friend’ hasn’t resolved at all, and that he’s still hopelessly in love with you even though you have a boyfriend now. Which still seems surreal to him because it’s one of his friends whom he usually likes but not right now because well, yeah, he’s dating you. But there’s no way he’s actually going to tell you all of that.

“I don’t have anything to say,” he decides on saying, pouting playfully. You chuckle at his facial expression. He smiles at you, eyes going soft because you’re sitting so close to him for the first time in a long time and he feels relaxed. More relaxed than he has been for a while.

“Nothing much for me either,” you sigh, moving the pack of snacks closer to Jeongguk so he can eat some. “Tae asked me to come home with him for the fall break, he wants me to meet his parents.” You leave out the part where you broke up with Taehyung.

Jeongguk’s movements come to a halt, one banana crisp inches away from entering his mouth. “Really?”

You nod. Jeongguk notices how your tone was slightly hesitating and off as you told him about Taehyung’s request.

“Isn’t it a bit…” he trails off, not knowing which words to use without sounding like an asshole. You watch him as he searches for the words.

“A bit what, Gguk?” You press.

He sighs. “A bit over the top, maybe?”

You scoff lightly, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

Jeongguk panics as you move a bit away, your legs no longer touching his. You give him a look that tells him to explain what he means. He sits up, elbows resting on his knees. “Listen, I just think it’s a bit unnecessary since it’s obvious that this relationship isn’t as important to you than it is to Tae.”

“You don’t know that,” you tell him, voice stern. Jeongguk is right, but you’re not gonna tell him that. He hasn’t been talking much to you for the past months hence he has no idea what he’s talking about because you haven’t told him anything about your now ended relationship with Taehyung. Call you bitter, you don’t care. Your best friend hasn’t shown any interest in your life whatsoever for two months now and yes, you’re blaming him for the tension there is in this home.

Jeongguk lets out a small groan in frustration, “but I do, ___! I do know,” he insisted, turning to fully face you, “I can tell because you’re not looking at him the way he looks at you, you’re not fully there every time he’s kissing you goodbye by the door before he leaves. I’ve witnessed it enough to know that you don’t feel the same as he does.”

You’re silent as he talks, listening to everything he says but still holding onto the bitterness that you have for him in regards to his little to no interest in you for two whole months.

“Don’t you dare deny it, ____,” he snapped, “I know you and you don’t love him.”

Punch him. You want to punch him for knowing you so damn well and for seeing right through you. And you want to punch him for being so dumb and blind that he still hasn’t figured out why you’re not in love with Taehyung. How can he not see that he’s the one you love? You’ve been wearing your heart on your sleeve for the entire summer and more, slowly falling in love with him ever since that night he brought you to the frozen yoghurt shop downtown.

“You’re right. I don’t love him,” you mumble under your breath. Jeongguk glances at you, eyes still filled with a small amount of frustration and anger, all directed at you and only you. “But you have no right to tell me this when you haven’t been interested in me and my life for two fucking months, Jeongguk!”

Jeongguk’s eyebrows furrow together in confusion, his heart slowly starting to beat faster because why are you fighting? What the hell just happened? “Wha-” 

You get up from your seat, moving further away from him and Jeongguk feels like you’re slipping right through his fingertips even though he hasn’t ever been the one to hold you. But he should have, he should’ve been the one to hold you from the start.

“You don’t get to do this, not now when we haven’t really spoken to each other for so long,” you jabbed, “it’s my fault too, but I don’t come at you for having several girls over, do I?”

Jeongguk sighs, running his hands over his face in aggravation. “___, you’re overreacting. I wasn’t trying to tell you anything, I was just-”

“No, Jeongguk. No,” you shake your head, sneering at him. “I don’t need you to tell me or suggest anything, I don’t need your input and I don’t need you to make a decision!”

Jeongguk gets up, moving towards you, face twisting in anger. “Tell me, ___. What is he to you, huh? What is he?”

You glare at him, eyes hard on like his own and you don’t falter one moment. This anger and frustration has been a long time coming now, from both of you. “You’ve said he’s your boyfriend, but what is he really? Is he a fuckbuddy? Is he just someone to get yourself off with, huh?”

“No, Jeongguk, fuck you!” You shout, defending whatever it is that you have with Taehyung. “He’s good company, and no, I don’t see him like he sees me. He’s nothing more than good company but I actually like being around him unlike someone else I know!”

Jeongguk chuckles flatly, no humor behind it as he steps back from you. Hurt flashes across his face as he gets what you just said. “I see how it is,” he nods, giving you one last hurt look before retreating to his room. You stand back, hand coming up to cover your mouth as a cry rakes through your body. You didn’t know you had been holding back tears, the emotions you have for Jeongguk being poured out in the form of heavy tears in the middle of your living room. You’re frozen in your spot, sobs shaking you as you hold yourself. The sound of Jeongguk slamming his hand against the wall makes you move out of your frozen spot. You quickly make your way to your own bedroom, slamming the door behind you. 

You slide under the covers, head feeling heavy as you let the tears fall. You didn’t intend to hurt Jeongguk the way you did, but you practically just shouted at him that you don’t like being around him, that his company isn’t good. It must’ve hurt him more than what you or he, himself, expected it to. You feel bad as you let your duvet engulf you whole, the taste of regret on your tongue as you keep repeating your own words in your head. 

“He’s nothing more than good company but I actually like being around him unlike someone else I know!”

How could you even say that when Jeongguk hasn’t been anything but great company for you? He has been even more than that, he has been a friend you needed more than you ever knew, a person so supportive and loving that you always felt like you had someone to come to whenever times were rough. And in the midst of all this, you managed to fall for him as well. He didn’t do much to make it happen, he was just himself from the very beginning of your friendship and you’ve seen sides to him not many people have witnessed and you know the real Jeon Jeongguk. The Jeongguk who loves his camera more than anything, the Jeongguk who loves food and snacks and banana milk as if he was five years old again. The Jeongguk who’s such a softie, when you first get to know him like you do, that half of it would be more than enough. The Jeongguk who loves with his entire being, always putting his loved ones before himself – including you.

You sigh deeply, hating yourself for shouting such inaccurate words at him. You had to make it up to him, apologize to him for being so inconsiderate when all he did was trying to make you realize that the relationship you have with Taehyung is a waste of time. Jeongguk is right, you know he is. You don’t love Taehyung and you know you never will. The feelings just aren’t there, they’re elsewhere with someone who’s been worthy of them since what feels like forever.

Sleep doesn't overcome you as you stay in bed, staring at the ceiling. You’ve been tossing and turning for the past few hours, trying your very hardest to fall asleep ever since the fight you had with Jeongguk.You glance at the clock on your nightstand that’s reading 3 am — you have a morning lecture to attend in 6 hours. You let out a heavy sigh. Eyebrows furrowed together in frustration and your lips in a pout because why the fuck are you not able to sleep? Your eyes feel heavy from crying, but your best friend is taking up all your thoughts and the feelings you have for him are almost bursting out of your chest.

You groan to yourself as you roll over, pulling the duvet over your head. Closing your eyes, you try again for the umpteenth time. “I just wanna sleep,” you whine to yourself, but it’s no help. You give up on sleep.

You’re only half aware of what’s happening as you get out of bed and leave your bedroom, heading for Jeongguk’s bedroom. You stop in your tracks in front of his door. Maybe he’s also up, you think to yourself as you reach for the doorknob, turning it lightly. Peeking inside his dark room, you notice him fast asleep in his bed. You softly smile through the evident feeling of regret which is still heavy in your stomach. Without further thinking, you slip inside his room and close the door. You tiptoe over to his bed, glancing over him once again.

He looks peaceful, eyes shut and eyelashes touching the top of his cheek. Yet there’s a crease on his forehead and a slight frown upon his lips. The corner of your lips turn into a frown, copying his features unintentionally. Your eyes rake over the rest of his body. The duvet is only halfway covering him, from the waist and down. his naked chest is rising and falling as he breathes deeply. A soft tingle runs through your stomach as you carefully crawl onto his bed. You lift the duvet and slip under, sliding closer to him. He stirs in his sleep, turning over onto his side. you glance up at his face, noticing his eyes slightly open. You can barely see him in the darkness, but you can feel him looking at you.

“Hey,” he whispers into the darkness.

You smile, a sad smile, but he can’t see it. “Hi.”

“Can’t sleep?” He asks, voice soft yet hoarse. He moves a bit, trying to lay comfortably while creating more space for you. He’s careful not to touch you. 

You shake your head at his question. “Not really,” you mumble.

You scoot closer, hand reaching out to touch his that is lying between the two of you. “I’m sorry,” you whisper softly into the night. Jeongguk turns his hand, letting you intertwine your fingers with his. 

“For what?” He mutters quietly.

You breathe out shakily as Jeongguk is now the one to move closer to you. You let out a sigh, relaxing as his forehead rests against yours, his breathing clashing with your own.

“For the things I said, for shouting at you, for insulting you,” you explain, voice still soft and low as if someone outside would be able to hear you. “I didn’t mean any of it, I just-”

You stop yourself, hesitating. Should you just tell him? Tell him why you don’t love Taehyung when you have plenty of reasons to do so? Jeongguk senses the inner battle you’re having with yourself, his hand squeezing yours to let you know that you can tell him whatever it is that you have on your mind, reassuring you that he’s listening. “I don’t love Taehyung,” you sigh, “I broke up with him tonight… And there’s a pretty good reason for this.”

Jeongguk nods, humming in response because he already knows, it just took him insanely long to realize. Your thundering heart and shaky breath gave you away the moment he moved closer to you. Jeongguk is daring as he leans even closer, breath hitting your lips. You gasp lightly at the feeling of his lips ghosting yours, the skin of them softer than anything. His hand lets go of yours only to snake around your waist, pulling you flush against him. Your hand touches his bare chest, the almost new and fresh tattoo he got two weeks ago feeling rough yet soft under your touch. He’s holding you so close that you’re unconsciously holding your breath.

“I was so scared,” you whisper against his lips, hand moving up from his chest to the back of his neck. Your fingertips brush against his hair, his long and slightly curled hair soft like you had always imagined it to be. “Scared you wouldn’t say it back.”

The tension in the room is almost unbearable but in a good way. This is months of feelings, tension and longing all coming together and clashing right here in this moment. You feel breathless, like you can’t breathe but at the same time, you’re perfectly fine.

“Say what back, ___?”

His hand runs along your hip and to your thigh, hooking around it and bringing it around him to hug his waist. His crotch is almost touching yours and your breath hitches at the feeling. Jeongguk smirks to himself, knowing exactly what kind of effect he has on you. He loves taking your breath away like this, but he can think of another way, something he’s been dying to do for a long time.

“Tell me,” he demands softly yet strongly, making you gasp again.

“I love you, Jeongguk,” You breathe out, feeling a weight coming off your chest, “I love you so much.”

Jeongguk’s heart skips a beat, a small smile appearing on his face as he cups your face, thumb running across your cheek. “You’re an idiot for thinking I wouldn’t love you back,” he whispers against your lips.

You whine at him for calling you an idiot and then you melt as he presses his lips against yours, soft and plump like pillows. Your hand tangles in his hair, fingers grabbing strands of curly, black hair as you let him kiss you until your breath is gone. It’s like you're sinking into him, fitting perfectly against his body. Goosebumps rise upon your skin as his hand wanders; over your bare legs to your waist and further across your chest and up to lightly wrap around the base of your throat. His tongue pokes at your lips, wanting to find yours. You part your lips, letting his tongue touch yours, the wetness and softness mixing well together as he pulls you even closer, a moan slipping out of you.

“Shit, ___,” he grunts against your lips as you press your core to his in eagerness, making him lose his mind, “please let me fuck you, let me love you so good, baby.”

You nod frantically, giving him full permission to do whatever he wants with you. A tiny squeal emits from your lips as he pushes you over, hovering over you and trapping you between his arms. He looks down at you, eyes soft and filled with want and lust. You smile up at him, hands running up and down the sides of his naked torso. You loved touching him like this, feeling his muscles tense under your touch and his soft skin that is filled with heavy tattoos, all of them having their own special meaning.

“I love you,” he whispers so softly you almost don’t hear it, eyes flickering between yours.

“I love you too,” you whisper back, cupping his face to pull him down to meet you for a kiss, a sloppy and wet kiss that makes your body tingle. You hum in satisfaction as he moves away from your lips, kissing his way down to your neck. He licks a stripe up your neck and to your ear, tongue flicking at your earlobe. He makes you shiver, his touch soft like a feather and yet rough enough to make you feel them more evidently than anything you’ve ever felt before.

As he works his way down with his lips, your hands are everywhere. On his shoulders, in his hair. You’re squirming under his touch, feeling impatient as he takes his time with you. It’s like he already knows every part of your body as he runs his hands down your sides and up under his T-shirt, that you’ve stolen at some point, pushing it up and revealing your breasts. He pulls the shirt all the way off, throwing it onto the floor without looking. His room is rather cold, making your nipples stiffen. He licks his lips, looking at your chest with hungry eyes. You gasp as he cups your breasts, thumbs running over each nipple. You bite your lip, holding yourself from moaning too loudly. You can’t hold it in as you watch him wrap his wetted lips around one of your hardened nubs, tongue lapping over it and flicking it.

“Holy sh- Jeongguk,” you moan, eyes closing as you arch your back in pure pleasure. He bites onto it causing you to twitch in his grasp. He smirks up at you as you glance down, watching him move to the other breast to give it the same amount of attention. He’s such a tease, you can barely comprehend it in your mind. 

A small tiny moan emits from your lips as he moves further down, lips kissing the skin on your stomach, trailing around your navel and to the edge of your pajamas shorts. He glances up at you for permission which you grant him with a small nod, teeth biting onto your lower lip. He hooks his fingers under the waistband, pulling shorts and panties down your legs. They’re on the floor within a matter of seconds, out of the world and out of the mind of the both of you as Jeongguk focuses his attention on the wetness that has formed between your legs. His dick twitches in his boxers, the sight of you bare and naked in front of him messing with his head.

You whimper as he spreads your legs, revealing your wetness to the cold air of the room, making you shiver once again. He inhales as he lowers his face between your legs, quiet growl leaving his lips. “You smell so good, baby,” he rasps, hands running from your ankles to your thighs and squeezing the soft flesh there, making goosebumps appear on your skin. “Can’t wait to taste you.”

The feeling of his lips against you makes you jolt, your breath quickening as you feel him kissing against your folds. Jeongguk brings a hand up, the other hand gripping your thigh tightly to keep your legs spread for him. You moan lightly as he runs a finger down between your wet lips, loving every second of watching and hearing you squirm beneath his touch. You’re not prepared for the feeling when he spreads your folds with his fingers before diving in, licking up and flicking your already sensitive clit with the tip of his tongue.

“Oh my god,” you moan out, your hand digging into his hair as he licks and eats you out like a starved man. Your breathing picks up as he quickens the pace of his tongue, feeling yourself nearing your high. “D-don’t stop, Gguk.”

Jeongguk hums in response to your words, letting a finger slip between your folds and inside you. You gasp, leaning up onto your elbows to watch him. Your mouth hangs open, a fucked out expression on your face as he glances up at you, lips still tightly connected to your core. “Oh,” you hum, biting your bottom lip tightly, “oh, fuck.”

His mouth leaves your wet lips as another finger sinks into you, pumping in and out at a fast pace. He’s desperate to bring you to your orgasm, lips kissing all over your thighs and lower stomach. “Let go, baby, cum for me.”

Your arms give up, your head hitting the pillows as your first orgasm of the night comes at you with full force – Jeongguk’s goal is to make you cum at least three times tonight but you don’t know that. “Fuuuuck Jeongguk,” you moan, voice high pitched as you close your eyes. Your toes are curling, fist grabbing the sheet tightly as his fingers fucks you through your orgasm. As you come down from your high, Jeongguk removes his fingers from you, your release covering them as he holds them up. You watch him bring his fingers to his lips, licking your cum off them. You whine, sitting up to reach for him, desperate for more.

He chuckles with a smirk, letting you pull him closer by hooking a finger around the silver necklace around his neck. Your lips finally land against his again, a sigh emitting from you as you let him lead you back onto your back again. You can taste yourself on his tongue as he positions himself between your legs, his cock twitching against your core. You can feel how hard he is through his boxers. Your tongue dances with his as you reach down, cupping him through the fabric of his underwear.

He grunts against your mouth, letting your lips go to rest his forehead against your collarbone. Your hand squeezes him causing him to whine lightly. “Baby, don’t do this to me,” he rasps, lips pressing tiny kisses against the skin on your throat. “Need to fuck you.”

You nod, running a hand through his hair and down his neck to his shoulder blade. Pushing at the waistband of his boxers, he gets the hint. He helps you push them down his legs, his cock springing free and slap against his abdomen. You let him do the rest himself. He kicks them off, leaving them to fall onto the floor, long forgotten. He reaches over to his bedside table, opening the drawer and pulling out a condom. You watch him rip it open with his teeth before reaching down to roll it onto his sensitive, throbbing dick. You kiss him once he returns back to hovering over you, tongue sloppily fighting against his. Pulling away, he trails kisses to just above your breasts and back up to your neck. His hands are everywhere on you, running over your nipples to your stomach and further down to brush against your still wet, pulsing core. “Still so wet for me, huh?” He hums against your neck, teeth lightly biting into your skin. “Only for me?”

You nod, breathing heavily, “only you, Gguk.”

You can feel his smirk against your neck, shivers running through you at the thought. He lines himself up, leaning up on his elbows to glance at your face. You lock eyes with him, your hand coming up to cup his cheek. He leans into your touch, eyes closing momentarily before he presses a kiss to your palm.

The moment his eyes open again, you gasp. They’re dark, filled with lust and desperation. You don’t get to say a thing before he pushes past your folds and inside, making you moan his name out loud in surprise and pleasure. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god,” you moan, grabbing onto his bicep tightly. He hisses at the mixed feeling of your nails digging into his skin and the sensation of finally getting to be balls deep in you after all these months. He bottoms out, head resting in the crook of your neck as he stays still for a moment. 

“Oh god, you’re big,” you breathe out into the darkness, taking a few minutes to adjust to his size before you tell him to move. He chuckles against your neck, pressing a small kiss there before leaning up to support himself on his hands, looking down to see where you’re connected as one. “Gguk, please move.”

You’re in another world as he pulls out and pushes back in, the force already unlike anything you’ve ever tried before. How is he better and bigger than what you’d expected? 

“Fuck,” he groans, “you’re so tight.”

Your moans become more high pitched for each thrust Jeongguk does, your stomach tightening in just the right way. He sets a steady rhythm, somehow managing to hit the perfect spot every single time. “I love you so much,” you gasp out as he grinds into you, bottoming out in you and filling you to the brim.

He moans at your words, a hand grabbing your leg and wrapping it tightly around his waist as he fucks you harder. “I love you too,” he breathes out against your lips before kissing you hard but sloppily.

Jeongguk man handles you halfway through, unwrapping your legs from his waist and bending them to press against your chest. This angle causes him to hit even deeper than before. “Jeongguk, please fuck me faster,” you whine, moaning. He bites into his bottom lip as he follows your command, setting a faster yet still hard pace. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he hits you deeper for every single thrust, his balls slapping against your ass as he fucks hard into you.

You’re seeing stars as you close your eyes and moaning out loud in pleasure, loving you better than anyone ever good, cherishing your body in every way he can as he brings you to another orgasm. White flashes for your eyes as it hits you, hands digging into his hair and pulling him in for another kiss. “Oh my god, fuck,” you whine against his lips, feeling yourself tighten around him.

This brings him to the edge, low grunts and groans leaving his lips in between sloppy kisses. His last thrusts become even harder as he hits his high, he stills as he cums into the condom. He’s breathing hard along with you, forehead resting on your chest.

“Holy fucking shit,” he sighs deeply as he pulls out before plopping down to lay beside you. He pulls the condom off and throws it into the bin close to his bed. “That was-”

“Amazing,” you breathe out, turning onto your side to look at him. He turns his head, smiling at you. “You’re amazing,” you tell him.

He grins, leaning up to press his mouth to yours in another sloppy yet soft kiss. You peck his lips one, two, three times before resting your head on his chest. Jeongguk wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close to his side. The duvet is pulled over the two of you as you’re slowly beginning to drift off to sleep. You don’t allow yourself to fall asleep before you’ve talked about this whole thing.

You rest your chin on his chest, locking eyes with him. His finger tips are running up and down your naked back, goosebumps rising once again.

“What now?” You question hesitantly, voice soft and careful.

Jeongguk shrugs, smiling softly at you. He brings a hand up to push strands of hair behind your ear. “It’s just you and me,” he softly says, running his thumb across your bottom lip. You kiss the pad of his thumb, making him smile even wider.

“Just you and me?” You repeat.

He nods, “you and me.”

You lean up, pressing a last kiss to his lips before resting your head against his chest once again, this time really falling asleep. Jeongguk lies awake for a bit, fingers still running up and down your spine. Your soft snores fill the quietness of his bedroom and it already feels like this is how it’s meant to be, finally.

The sun is forcing its way through the curtains in Jeongguk’s bedroom causing you to stir in your sleep. You stretch before rolling over onto your other side, coming to face a sleeping Jeongguk. You smile, feeling your chest fill with warmth and love as you watch him sleep with his mouth slightly parted and light snores leaving him as well.

You reach out, brushing his overgrown, curly hair out of his face. He stirs lightly, reaching up to wrap his hand around yours and intertwining your hands. He’s still sleepy as he opens his eyes, dark brown eyes meeting yours.

“Hey,” you whisper, shuffling closer so that you can press a soft peck to his lips.

He smiles, feeling his chest fill with warmth and the feeling of being content and happy in this exact moment. 

It doesn’t even take five minutes before Jeongguk’s is more awake and has you pinned down beneath him. He leans down, lips ghosting yours as he rests himself between your legs. He’s still naked just like you.

“Wanna go again?” He whispers against your lips, pressing a soft kiss to them.

You chuckle, “wasn’t last night enough for you?”

He shakes his head, lips moving further down to your neck and biting into your skin, in the same spot as last night. “It will never be enough,” he hums into your skin. You can feel his dick twitch against your thigh causing wetness to quickly appear in between your legs.

Without another word, you reach down and line him up against your folds. “No condom?” He looks at you, confused.

You shake your head. “I’m on the pill and I’m clean,” you tell him, “aren’t you?”

Jeongguk looks at you in awe, nodding his head. “Of course, I am.”

He leans down, kissing you softly, tongue poking out to ask for allowance. You kiss him back, letting him in, arms wrapping around his neck to keep him close. Jeongguk lines himself up again, hand wrapped around the base of his cock. You feel him poking at your folds, stomach tingling in excitement because there’s simply no cock better than Jeongguk’s.

“I love you,” he softly whispers.

You smile, “I love you too.”

Just as he’s about to push himself fully inside, the sound of the front door slamming shut stills him. Jimin’s voice sounds throughout the apartment: “Guys, get up! I’m inviting both of you out to eat breakfast, so you better be ready in five minutes!”

Jeongguk drops his head to your shoulder, a groan leaving his lips. “I can’t believe I get cockblocked again,” he grumbles against your skin, making you laugh out loudly.

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