#I started choking during the picture process because I was drinking my drink and my stomach made weird noises and kait kept making jokes

[deityofhearts]

vampire time 🦇🩸🍷

my pronouns are they/them and he/him, please don’t misgender me <3

[taestefully-in-luv]

Always You | JJK (One)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader, slight Taehyung x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack

Word Count: 10.2k (yikes, I know) (I will try to shorten future chapters, ya girl is sorry)

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, puking, reader is a drunk cry baby, reader is kinda embarrassing, jk is kinda jelaous, mentions of sleeping around, reader and jk are pretty affectionate, jk’s thighs are mentioned—that’s like, a warning in itself right?

Notes: hiiiii, the first part is here! Once again, really nervous about this so please go easy on me but mostly, just enjoy! :) also sorry for any typos!!!!

© taestefully-in-luv

Next

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The sun is a magical thing. It lights up and warms the Earth, it enhances your mood, it helps plants grow, it literally provides for life. Without the sun, life on Earth would cease to exist. What the sun also does? The sun also shines down on us and lights up the most beautiful things. The sun today, however, is especially highlighting the most beautiful thing. The way the glittering rays gleam through the windows you can see how todays sun focuses on him.

That’s right, you guessed it. Kim Taehyung. His skin is absolutely glowing in the rays, his eyes sparkle in the light that shines down. Yes, Kim Taehyung is an other-worldly being. The way he just stands there and shimmers you can’t help but stare but also like, shy away because his beauty is so god damn blinding. Wait…was this dramatic? This might be dramatic. You’re too far gone to care though. His boxy grin, the way his hair falls into his eyes, the mole on his—

“I just want you to know, you are fucking drooling.” You hear the scoff of the man across from you, Jeon Jungkook, also known as your best friend.

You lazily shake your head as the two of you sit nice and snug in the booths of your favorite coffee shop. It’s one of the colder spring days, the breeze biting at your skin when you were outside but now, you have Jungkook’s scarf wrapped loosely around your neck and hot coffee in your hands.

“I mean, I get it. He’s gorgeous but do you really have to go this far?”

You bring the white mug full of black coffee to your lips. It’s hot and burns the tip of your tongue, but not anything you’re not use to.

“Yes.” You state plainly. You know exactly to what he is referring to. You don’t usually come here at this time, in fact you are usually a creature of habit and come at the same time on the same days… Tuesday and Thursdays in the evening but its Friday and like 1pm. But you knew Kim Taehyung was going to be here when he snapped a picture of the famous white mug with the shops logo on it and posted on his story. You bring your hand up to your forehead, saluting to the sky, “Thank you Snapchat.” So yes, naturally when you saw he was at this coffee shop you hurried to make sure you were too. Maybe it is fucking desperate. Okay it is. But could you blame a girl? He was one of the hottest guys you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.

“This is ridiculous,” Jungkook huffs into his own mug, “You could just talk to him…”

Now it was your turn to scoff.

“As fucking if!”

Jungkook smirks into his mug, taking a sip of the burning hot coffee. “That incapable, hmm?”

“It’s not that I’m incapable JK,” You blow on the drink nonchalantly, “I am simply just not worthy.”

“You are so stupid, I swear.” He huffs into his mug again.

“What do you mean?”

Jungkook breathes out slowly, biting his lip as if contemplating what to say.

It’s like, what can he say? He wishes he could tell you a million things that would ease your mind, that could possibly give you the confidence you need or maybe just slap the reality on you that Taehyung doesn’t deserve you. But then he will get asked ‘why’ and he can’t have that.

“What?” you whine into your cup before setting it down.

“You’re really cool and also pretty?” he says quirking a brow in question. Because apparently that’s all he can come up with.

“That’s a question? Also am I dying? You’re complimenting me?” you tease, giving him an exaggerated look of satisfaction.

“I just mean…” Jungkook runs a hand through his messy dark locks, “You have nothing to worry about, ya know?”

Nothing to worry about he says! What does he know? He can literally get any girl—or guy for that matter—that he wants. You dip your head, frowning at the idea.

Jungkook has been your best friend since your freshmen year and there’s nothing you treasure more than his friendship. You bite your lips and tilt your head trying to recall his first presence in your life…oh! That stupid frat party freshmen year…you met at a frat party during your first semester and totally hit it off. Did he try to get into your pants? Okay, yeah maybe. He offered a room just up the stairs that night, but you refused…seemingly too shy. But Jungkook was nothing but understanding. He pat your back and said he knew a better place, and that was the 24 diner down the street. And the rest is history

“Obviously I don’t know and oh my god don’t look but—” You try saying before Jungkook is completely turning his head around to look. Classic Jungkook.

“Oh hey Tae.” Jungkook says in The Kim Taehyungs direction. Taehyung walks up to your table, you thought the sun only highlighted his beauty but up close he is the sun. You knew it was a magical thing.

“Hey guys! “ Taehyung stands there as bright as a fucking light, waving at you and your best friend. Oh yeah, did we forget to mention Jungkook is also friends with said Kim Taehyung? Okay, so maybe talking to Taehyung shouldn’t be that hard, since you share the same fucking friends. And you guys are technically friends too.

“Sup dude.” Jungkook shrugs nonchalantly, picking up his coffee mug once again. His long fingers wrapping around the porcelain, warming him up. You watch as Jungkook takes a sip of his beverage with his doe eyes on you, he nods his head towards Taehyung and winks at you as he gulps down the drink. Of course, he’s teasing you.

“Hey y/n!” Taehyungs smile shines so brightly you want to actually kill yourself. What is up with this dude and being so blinding?

“Hey Taehyung…” you gulp your coffee awkwardly, giving him a small wave of the hand.

“y/n I told you to call me Tae!”

“Right…” you chuckle into the coffee creating bubbles of the liquid like the fucking pathetic lil thang you are.

Yeah, talking to The Kim Taehyung is not your specialty. Never was.

2 years ago

Your head is buried in books on the table of your campuses library with Jungkook fast asleep next to you. Statistics shouldn’t be this hard but it fucking is and you are groaning into your book, on the verge of pulling your hair out when a deep voice that rumbles your insides interrupts you—actually fuck it, you don’t feel like getting into a flashback. Just know that you met Taehyung (officially through Jungkook) and he ended up calling you pretty and you’ve thought about it every day since. Because you are pathetic. What’s new?

And that was it, that’s all it took for you to gain a massive crush on the boy.

“What’s up dude?” Jungkook asks again. He is now scrolling through his phone, probably swiping through Tinder, if you have to guess. And you’re right because he’s turning his phone towards you showing you some random girl, his wide eyes asking for your opinion. You roll your eyes and nod your head ‘yes’. As you can guess, this happens quite often.

“Ummm…” Taehyung runs a frustrated hand through his hair, you slowly tilt your head to soak him in when you notice he looks almost…panicked? “I need help with something actually,” but he isn’t looking at Jungkook as he says this, no. He’s looking at you.

“You see that girl at the counter over there? The one with long hair, not the other one.” He nods his head in the general direction while still remaining discreet.

You tilt your head to steal a glance at the counter and yes you do see the girl he is referring to. She’s got long brown hair that reaches her waist and man, she is gorgeous. Big, bright eyes. Full, pouting lips. Long legs and yeah, the works. Taehyung sure knows how to pick them. Did he need help to get her number of something? Like a wing woman? You mean, does he really need the help?

“Yes, I see her.” Is all you say to him and you expect him to ask you to go over there but instead he says,

“Great. I need you to be my girlfriend.”

You blink lazily at him as you process his words while Jungkook chokes on his drink.

“You want her to be your what?” Jungkook is the first to speak.

“My girlfriend.” He says again before his eyes go wide, “Like, like my fake girlfriend.” Taehyung turns a wonderful shade of red before his hand is reaching to scratch the back of his neck, chuckling to himself. “This girl—Anna…she is a bit obsessed? Ya know? Won’t leave me alone type thing and …and I have tried saying I have a girlfriend but she followed me to this coffee shop when she heard I was here. Like, who does that?”

Now it’s your turn to turn red, because you. You would fucking do that.

“That’s horrible Taehy—” you begin to say before Taehyungs large eyes pierce into your own, “Please y/n.”

“Anna???” Jungkook cuts in setting his phone on the table. “Like Anna Anna?” Jungkook squints his eyes at his friend before scoffing. “...She’s not doing it.” his eyes go between Taehyung and this girl Anna. “Don’t involve her in whatever game you—"

“I’ll do it.” You say, even surprising yourself. “I mean, it’s just pretend and for this moment so why not?” you begin to explain yourself. Plus for a few minutes you can pretend you’re really his girlfriend and your delusional mind will thrive off that.

Tae is quick to straighten his back and smile widely before he is ushering you to scoot over in the booth to let him in. “Scoot scoot” he whispers, grinning from ear to ear.

“Tae, you can’t be serious—” Jungkook is quick to say something, anything. His hands scrambling to grab his phone and hands it to Taehyung from across the table. “Here. Call up some other girl to do this. Don’t involve y/n.” Taehyung gives Jungkook a look of panic before Jungkook speaks up again, “Plus, y/n would be the worst fake girlfriend,” And that’s it. That’s all it takes. Jungkook’s constant negativity pisses you off so much that it drives what you say next.

“No need Taehyung.” You snatch Jungkook’s phone and shove it back in his hands. “Why don’t you call up one of your girls yourself and leave us alone?”

Jungkook looks at you shocked, his brows furrowing so deeply you are almost concerned for his face and the wrinkles that might set in.

“y/n…?” his stupid doe eyes look at you with so much confusion.

“I just mean, I can do this Jungkook. Don’t have to be so concerned.”

At that, Taehyung lights up.

“Great!” and his long arm wraps around your waist and when he was sure Anna is looking he leans in to plant a soft kiss to your cheek. “Thanks for doing this…” he whispers in your ear before placing another kiss.

Your eyes meet Jungkook’s shocked ones. He looks like he just saw a ghost, all the color drained from his face as he watches you and Taehyung.

“Uh….” You don’t have any words for Taehyung—or Tae as he likes to be called.

You don’t even have the balls to glance his way, you don’t even have the balls to breathe in his direction.

“Look at me?” Taehyung’s finger is on your chin, guiding it towards his face.

“No…” Jungkook spurts out, “I mean, y/n don’t we have to go?” Jungkook looks at you with a look you’ve never really seen before. Maybe it’s desperation but you don’t really care.

“We don’t actually” you respond nonchalantly.

And with that you turn to face Taehyung more properly. His face is so close to yours it’s almost suffocating.

“What is it…Tae?” you try out his nickname for the first time. His cheeks flush and he scoots back just an inch.

“Thank you for doing this but…” his eyes slide to the side, eyeing Jungkook. “I was thinking we could do this for a couple of weeks, at the least. Ya know, to make it believable.”

Surprising you and Taehyung, Jungkook rises from his seat at the booth,

“y/n let’s go.” He simply states, not even looking at you. Taehyung looks panicked as you look between the boys.

“Tae…” you started to say before Jungkook reaches over the table to grab your wrist, “Come oooooooonnnnn” But you are quick to yank it back.

“Stop Jungkook, you’re being childish.”

Taehyung tightens his hold on you, “Yeah Kookie, sit back down…please.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes at Taehyung, giving him a look that screams ‘are you serious?!’

“Childish? Okay.” He gives you a look of disappointment before grabbing his phone and his bag and walking away from the table. You watch in disbelief as Jungkook’s figure disappears from your view. What was up with him?

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s going on with him…”

“Right…” Tae responds quietly, his grip on your waist loosening up. “He’s just really protective over you, huh?” Taehyung bites his lip in contemplation, “y/n. I’m serious, let’s do this. I’ll pay for your coffee for the next month if you do this with me. Please, I am quite literally begging you.” He breathes out through his nose in an attempt to laugh. “She won’t leave me alone otherwise.”

You bite your lip in deep thought, your brows pulled together. Taehyung couldn’t help but find you cute.

“For a month? What happened to a few weeks?” you ask, a playful smirk gracing your features.

Taehyung couldn’t help the grin that made its way on his face.

“1 month.” He breathes out. “Unless you fall in love with me during that time and beg for more time….” He pokes his tongue out, his teasing tone going straight to your lady bits. If only he knew.

“Fine, but we should set some ground rules…don’t you think?”

“Okay. Like what?”

“Oh…I don’t—”

Taehyung raises a brow, “Don’t say something stupid like ‘no kissing’…because we want to make it as realistic as possible, don’t we?” he leans in just a bit more. Without Jungkook around Taehyung seems a bit more confident.

“Oh, you want to kiss me then?”

“It’s just for show. We don’t gotta think too hard about it.” His face inches closer and closer.

“Love…” you say, in a complete daze. Too lost in Taehyungs big brown eyes.

“What about it?” he doesn’t blink, just continues to stare into your eyes.

“We…would if one of us catches feelings? Then we should stop it, right?” You choke out.

Taehyung squeezes his eyes shut as an impossibly cute giggle escapes his lips, “You’re so cute. How many romcoms have you watched to come up with that line?”

“I’m serious.” You push your head back, “This could become hurtful if one of us falls in love…” You say this knowing it’s you. Well, obviously. Just because Taehyung called you pretty 2 years ago doesn’t mean he likes you.

“Okay, sweetheart.” Taehyung gets close again, “I’ll tell you.” And then he leans in, just an inch from your face. His lips hovering over your own and you can see his eyes still on you, like he’s silently asking for permission. You can’t help the nod of your head and you, yourself don’t stop yourself from leaning in.

Taehyungs lips are just as soft as you had always imagined. His lips only peck yours, the kiss is short but sweet. Once he pulls back you see his eyes slide to the counter where that Anna girl stands, and a look of relief washes over his features.

“Thank God, she bought it. She looks pissed,” he laughs loudly, “She saw us and is totally storming out!”

Oh, right. This is all for show.

“Oh, good.”

“Thanks y/n!” Taehyung’s smile is so wide it takes up the entire booth. He goes in for a quick hug, pulling back he smiles again before reaching his hand to pat your head.

“You’re a good girl.” He says and slips out of the booth. Welp, you wish those words didn’t go straight to your vagina.

“Uh, thanks.” You sputter out, not entirely sure what just happened.

“See you later?” he asks then his face lights up, “I’ll bring you a coffee.”

“Well, that is the deal.” You shoot him some pathetic finger guns.

You stare down at your now cold coffee, and look across from you at the now empty booth where Jungkook once sat.

“I’ll text you with more details later!” he shakes his phone in his hand,

“Bye bye…girlfriend.” He finishes off with a wink and skips, yes fucking skips away.

You are left alone at your table, with an empty seat across from you and a cold coffee. And now a fake boyfriend with the guy you have a massive crush on. This couldn’t possibly go all wrong, could it?

~~~

“This is definitely going to go all wrong, you realize that, right? This is a bad idea y/n and you know it.”

Jungkook’s legs are swung over your own as he lays on the couch, his focus on his phone in his hands. He wears his gray puma sweat suit you love so much and smells exactly the same as always—clean laundry and his own musk. You can’t help but eye him over, his dark strands of hair falling into his eyes as he bobbles his head to rid himself of the stray pieces. You aren’t blind, Jungkook is like, crazy hot and sometimes your staring can become a problem.

“Like, ‘we can’t fall in love with each other’” he mocks, “What sort of bullshit? You already in love, aren’t you?” he peeks over his phone to get a look at you waiting for some sort of rejection of his words.

“It’s just a crush, Jungkook.”

“Sure.” His eyes go back to his screen. “You’re pretty dumb for doing this.”

“Did I mention we kissed?”

“Only 100 times now you sicko.” Jungkook rolls his eyes and you can’t help but giggle.

It’s no secret that Jungkook is against this—whatever this is. He always has been…ever since you mentioned it 2 years ago sophomore year.

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?!” you ask in disbelief.

You just confessed your little crush on Taehyung to Jungkook, the two of you sitting across from one another in the library when he rolls his eyes, obviously annoyed.

“Can you not yell? We’re literally in a library. And I don’t feel like getting kicked out this week…again.” He rolls his pen between his fingers as he speaks.

“Okay one: that’s your own fault for getting caught with your hand down some girls pants. And Two: what do you mean ‘no’?”

“Taehyung is off limits for you.” He says, totally unbothered.

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“It means, he’s my friend for one so gross, and also he’s kind of like…emotionally unavailable.”

You chew on your pen, wondering what that could mean. Like, he doesn’t date? He doesn’t ‘do’ relationships? He’s already in love with someone else?

“I’m not telling you.” Jungkook’s pen slides against his paper as he writes, “His life.”

Oh, you asked that out loud.

“Whatever Jungkook, it’s just a crush.”

It feels nice to have a crush on someone other than…

Ding

Your phone goes off and you hurry to check it. What? It could be Taehyung wanting to go over the details of the ‘plan’. But much to your disappointment it was just Jimin.

Jimin 9:42pm

Where are you guys? Party has BEEN started girl

Y/N 9:42pm

We’re about to leave babe, see you soonish

Jimin 9:43pm

You guys fuckin? *smirk face emoji*

Y/N 9:43pm

Did you just…write smirk face emoji instead of putting the emoji itself

Y/N 9:44pm

Also how many times do I have to tell you JK and I aren’t like that

Jimin 9:45pm

Whatevs, see you soon babe xoxo

You set your phone down in your lap, your fingers going to massage Jungkook’s calves as you sneak a glance at him, he closes his eyes in satisfaction as you continue massaging the muscle.

“We gotta get go—also, that’s now what you’re wearing right?”

“Not going tonight. But have fun.” Jungkook sets his phone on his chest, letting out a long breath while folding his arms behind his head. He looks comfortable like, you almost believe him that he’s really staying in.

“Yeah, okay.”

“I’m serious.”

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N why don’t we just stay in tonight?” He whines, he unfolds his arms and reaches for your hand. “Let’s go buy a 12 pack, get fucked up and just ya know, stay in.” Though this doesn’t sound like a bad idea, it also sounds like every Friday night with the two of you and you want to do something different tonight. But it would take some convincing. You interlock your fingers with his and he melts at your touch, his dopey smile growing.

“It’s a good idea, right?” he says, blinking up at you.

You smile back, tilting your head just the slightest before your smile drops altogether.

“No.”

“Ugh!” Jungkook throws his head back on the sofas armrest, “Why are you like this?”

“You still love me.” You chirp swinging his legs off yours and standing to your feet.

“Now get dressed and I promise that I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the weekend and you can bring whatever poor girl back to the apartment.”

Oh yes, your best friend is also your roommate. You’ve been living together for the last year—it just made the most sense. He was always over at yours or vise versa. So it made the most sense to save money and just room together. It worked out almost perfectly—almost. He paid his half of rent on time, he cleaned the dishes, he did laundry. Wait a minute, what the hell did you offer? That’s beside the point, the best of all he was always there when you needed him. The one downfall…the girls he brought over.

It got so bad that you couldn’t even sleep. You get it, your best friend is obviously…gifted. If the girls whines and moans and screams were any indication. So you had to set some rules for your sanity! For one, the other must always warn the other when bring home a person for the night. And two, its best if the other is already like, not home. Jungkook quickly agreed…something about how he doesn’t want to hear you either.

So, offering to be gone all weekend so he can have as much sex in his bed as he wants is probably going to be convincing enough.

You study Jungkook’s features, his brows pinched together almost comically, and his lips formed into the cutest pout.

“All weekend?” he asks, kicking imaginary rocks with his feet. “Like, no interruptions?”

“No interruptions you absolute whore.”

“Fine, deal.” He looks into your eyes and something flashes across them that you cant pinpoint. “I guess I’ll get dressed…but wait, where will you stay?”

“Probably with Jimin.” You shrug.

“Hm, okay.” Jungkook walks towards his room while lifting his sweatshirt over his head and throwing it behind him, the article of clothing landing on the floor. “And you’re doing laundry.”

“Brat.” You say rolling your eyes but you can’t help but smile.

You don’t take long to get ready yourself, you settle for a casual look tonight…okay, semi-casual, meaning you’re wearing jeans but you are wearing a nice, low cut blouse that shows a generous amount of cleavage. It’s your go to titty shirt. You aren’t really looking to get laid tonight or anything but you do want onlookers to wish you were.

You bounce your knee up and down while sitting on the sofa as you not so patiently wait on your bff, you call out for him but he only yells back that you need to like, chill out. After what feels like forever, the creak of his bedroom door opening can be heard and you quickly stand to your feet to face him.

“Woah.” Is all you manage to say as Jungkook walks out of his room, his cologne filling the air around you. “You look…” you can’t even finish your sentence without Jungkook’s stupid smirk already on his face. His pants are skin tight, the material practically melted on to his thick thighs that are deliciously exposed thanks to rips and holes. His plain white tee is accompanied by a fine leather jacket and his hair is split down the middle, the waves adorning his face. He looks damn good. And you both fucking know it.

“I look?” he teases, walking closer to you. His cologne suffocating your nostrils but you aren’t upset about it.

“You look…fine. You look better than before at least.” You choke out. It’s not that Jungkook is capable of making you nervous but sometimes he has this aura about him…no, you don’t even want to get into it. Those are thoughts you’ve trained yourself to push away.

“Whatever.” His eyes skim over your body shamelessly, “You look fine too.” He winks, walking past you.

“Ready to go?” he calls out over his shoulder. You can’t help but watch his tight ass walk away. Did you really say tight ass? Well it is!

“Yeah, lemme grab my purse and uh, uh we can go. You’re driving.”

~~~

“About fucking time, sluts.”

“Hello to you too, Jiminie.” You crack a smile as your friend goes in for a quick but tight hug.

When Jungkook finally introduced you to all his friends the one you hit it off with the most was good ol’ Jimin. He immediately became one of your closest friends.

“Yo Park.” Jungkook’s eyes are all around the place, not even sparing Jimin a glance. No doubt looking for his girl for the night already. What? It’s a safe assumption.

“Jeon.” Jimin rolls his eyes playfully. “You guys took forever, too busy fucking?”

You hit Jimin’s shoulder with your own, giving him a look that says you’ll scold him later.

“She wishes.” Jungkook finally puts his attention on the two of you, a wide smile growing on his face.

“Shut up.”

“What? It’s true! Oh my god Jimin, you should of seen her face when she saw me walk out in this fit.” Jungkook stands tall, hands grabbing onto the material of his leather jacket,

“She was like “oh my god Jungkook you look so go—” You go to hit his stomach with your fist but thanks to his rock hard abs you only end up hurting yourself. “Fuck! Ow! What’s under your shirt?” you yell over the music.

“Oh baby, you can find out. Should we go upstairs? I know a room.” He says with a wink.

The words ring a bell of familiarity in your head, each syllable echoing softly. A small smile forms on your lips and Jungkook gives you the softest smile in return. Did he just say the same line he used on you 3 years ago when you two met?

3 years ago

The music is booming so loudly you can’t even hear yourself think. This isn’t your first frat party and probably won’t be your last but you just can’t get use to it. You let your dormmate drag you to this stupid party only for her to ditch you in the first 10 minutes. Great.

You weave through the crowd trying to locate the kitchen to get your hands on the strongest drink you can find, lord knows you need it.

The kitchen is just as crowded as the rest of the house unfortunately. So many bodies. Bodies doing shots. Bodies doing shots off other bodies. Bodies playing games. Bodies grinding against other bodies. So many fucking bodies. It is honestly overwhelming. You walk towards the punch bowl, reaching for a red solo cup when another hand bumps into yours.

“Whoops sorry, go ahead.” The hand is attached to this boy—or man? Should you say man? He sure looks like one. He eyes you up and down before smiling down at you.

“Freshmen?” he asks.

You slump your shoulders, “Do I really look that outta place?” you pout.

“It’s not that…I just have a way of knowing.” He laughs. “I’m Namjoon, by the way.”

Namjoon, huh? He is cute that was for sure. “Y/N.” you say placing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Pretty!” he smiles, then his eyes look behind you. “Ay! Jungkook! What did I say?! No more Keg stands!!!!” Then Namjoon’s eyes are back on you, “Sorry Y/N gotta go, gotta take care of this brat.” Then walks past you to this mysterious Jungkook person.

Your eyes follow Namjoon as he rushes to whoever this Jungkook guy is. Namjoon pulls him to the side obviously scolding him for apparently doing too many keg stands. Jungkook looks like a small child who is about to get grounded, and you can’t help but giggle. Unfortunately, this caught Jungkook’s attention. He looks straight at you, his eyes narrowing. Wait a minute. You recognize him! He definitely looks like the same guy from your Lit class on Tuesday and Thursdays. Yup, you get one long good look at him and he is definitely the same heartthrob of a dude from your class. All the girls go crazy for this guy, you mean, you guess you get it. He is really hot. He’s got on a black t shirt and some ripped jeans, and tousled hair.

Jungkook looks at you again with furrowed brows then smirks. Fuck, you were staring. And got caught. You see Jungkook pat Namjoon on the shoulder a few times then walk past him, much to Namjoon’s annoyance.

And he’s walking towards….you. FUCK. In a total panic, you twirl around to face the wall, yes the fucking wall when you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“’Scuse me?” a voice says from behind you. You’re not going to play dumb, you know who the voice probably belongs to. You stay facing the wall, like a fucking weirdo.

“Wanna turn around?” his voice is light and teasing and you can’t help the long release of breath before turning to face him. Wow. Up close he’s even more handsome….

“Hi?” you sputter out, completely unaware of how lame and shy you sound.

“Hey, like what you see?” he nods his head in the direction he just came from, clearly amused.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Apparently playing dumb is how you decide to go about this. You stare at him with a blank expression, swaying from side to side. Lucky for you it’s in beat with the music so you look kind of cool. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself.

“I mean, you kept staring at me so.”

“No, its…it’s not like that”

“Then, what’s it like?”

“I just…I thought I recognized you so…” you wipe your sweaty hands on your black denim skirt. “That’s all.” You finish, still looking at him like you haven’t done anything weird tonight.

“Anderson’s Lit class right?” he asks with a pointed look. “I recognized you too.” His smirk does things to your lower half but you shouldn’t be admitting that right now.

“Oh?” is all you manage to say.

Jungkook studies you for a few moments, his gaze so dark and intimidating and you feel so flushed with his eyes on you. Then he groans with fingers rushing through his messy hair,

“Do you understand this week’s assignment?”

He…he wants to talk about school?

“Yes, I do. Because this assignment is wack as fuck.”

OH. You must of asked that out loud.

“Yes, you did.”

Oh, that too.

“Umm, yeah. What aren’t you understanding?” you finally say something relevant.

“It’s just more like, I think it’s a stupid assignment.” He chuckles, “Oh, you got something—” he reaches his hand forward to your hair, his fingers brushing through your long strands, pulling back with a piece of string. “Got it.” He says with a sly smile.

HOW CHEESY!!!! But like, it still made the heartbeat in your vagina go boom boom.

“Ya know…” he begins, his eyes never leaving yours as he talks. You actually don’t even know what he is talking about but his lips move so quickly you try to follow them. Your eyes on his lips the whole time, you don’t even realize it.

“…and that’s why I think it’s stupid.” He finally finishes with an obnoxious laugh. “Hey—hey are you even listening?” he says, his lips in a pout. You would know because they are all you’ve been staring at.

“Huh?” you blink lazily up at him, “Oh. Yeah. I totally agree.”

Jungkook stares at you seriously for a second before breaking out into a cackle, yes a cackle like he’s some hysterical witch. Which sounds really unattractive but honestly you’re digging it.

“It’s okay, you weren’t listening. I guess I’m not that interesting, huh?”

“No no! You are!” You’re quick to say, your hands waving frantically in front of you.

“Oh? So you do find me interesting?” he smirks, folding his arms across his chest.

You scoff at his words, appreciating his moves on you with a sly smile.

“Are you always this smooth?” you ask, a light teasing tone laced in your voice.

“Oh baby, you can find out. Should we go upstairs? I know a room.” He teases back.

Feeling so at home lost in your memories with Jungkook, you finally break free from the flashback. For some reason that’s a flashback you don’t mind reliving.

“Smooth.” You grin at Jungkook, you can’t help the blush that paints itself on your cheeks.

“For you? Always.” He grins back. You two just stare at one another, basking in the memories of your friendship.

“Okay, enough.” Jimin cuts in, his hands on both yours and Jungkook’s shoulders, “Either actually get a room and finally fuck or get on with your nights.”

You and Jungkook exchange awkward glances before turning towards the living room to join the party. Jimin is left at the houses entrance by the front door, totally dumbfounded. “these two idiots…” he scoffs under his breath, his eyes rolling so far back into his head.

Hours pass and you know what? The party isn’t as lame as you thought it might be. You are lost in the music on the living rooms dance floor with a red solo cup in one hand and your phone in the other.

“y/n!” you hear the call of one of your closest girlfriends.

“Trina!!!” you stumble towards her with a lopsided grin, you reach for her bringing her in for a long hug.

“Woah, someone’s drunk.” She laughs her loud laugh that you love so much. “And damn, the titty shirt is out tonight? Nice.”

“Not drunk” you giggle, and then continue to giggle again for no apparent reason.

“Right…” Trina slaps your back enthusiastically, “Where’s…” she then lowers her voice with a smirk, “lover boy?”

“who? Jungkook?” you ask with the tilt of your head.

Trina’s head pushes back with a confused expression, “What? No! I’m talking about…” she lowers her voice again, “Taehyung!”

OH. Right. You had texted Trina as soon as the whole ordeal with Taehyung unraveled. She knows of your long time crush and totally supports the idea of fake dating because as she puts it:

“Girl! This is your chance! Show him what a great girlfriend you would be, he would totally fall in love with you for real for real.”

And you have to say, you like where her head is at. Complete opposite of what Jungkook is always saying.

“Oh, I don’t know. I haven’t see him around.” You sway side to side, your lit up phone catching your attention.

Jungkook 1:22am

Don’t come home tonight ;)

You can’t help but roll your eyes. How is he so quick?

Y/N 1:23am

Alreadyasydy tslked 2 Jiminie, staying w hum toniteeee.

Jungkook 1:24am

y/n…you’re not too drunk right?

Jungkook 1:27am

y/n????

You are back to shaking your ass with Trina by your side, the bass of the music thumping so loudly you can feel it vibrate your whole body. Body after body pushes into you, causing you to stumble every few seconds. But your grip on your refilled solo cup doesn’t loosen, not as you chug back your drink.

“Gonna grab another!” you slur, nodding your head towards the kitchen. Trina only gives you a thumbs up as she continues to dance with some random girl.

The walk to the kitchen feels like it’s taking forever, the way the walls swirl around you makes you feel sick. You stagger through the kitchens walk way when you feel two arms wrap around your middle.

“My girlfriend!” You hear the slur of words in your right ear, loud and clear.

You turn in the man’s hold with squinted eyes,

“Oh hi Tae.” You giggle, encasing him in a hug. Drunk y/n is way more confident. For some reason seeing him like this you don’t feel as nervous or awkward. Then you feel it. The weird, uncomfortable pang in your chest. Why is that? You look up at Taehyung when the sensation of guilt begins to surface. You remind yourself of the mission you’re on, completely ignoring the inner truth that tries to bubble over and smile at him.

Taehyung looks down at you with a goofy grin, his fingers digging into your waist to keep you steady.

“Oh, you’re drunk drunk.” He teases.

“Am not!” you shake away your confusing thoughts and giggle some more. “wanna take a shot with me?” you excitedly ask him, nodding in the direction of the liquor bottles.

“Hell yeah girl!” he says, taking your hand and leading you towards the counter.

“Y/N are you okay????” Taehyung voice is laced in concern as he holds you. Yes, the Kim Taehyung is holding you. “Shit, I shouldn’t have let you drink this much….” But like in a totally pathetic way.

“You…” you lean back, hitting his chest with your pointer finger, “Don’t tell me how much I can or can’t drink!” your voice buzzes as you fall forward but Taehyung catches you again.

“Right right…” he chuckles but then he looks concerned again. “We need to get you home…let’s call Jungkook.”

“No! we caaaannnnoottt do that…” your words are all jumbled together, Taehyung has a hard time understanding you.

“Where’s your phone?”

“Back pocket.” You wink. Like a fucking sleaze.

Taehyung looks conflicted, but in the end he reaches around for your phone and turns it on.

“Holy shit y/n… you have 8 missed calls from Jungkook. And whole lotta texts.”

Jungkook 1:30am

Are you okay??

Jungkook 1:40am

y/n…Youre a big girl so ill just assume youre okay.

Jungkook 3:02am

Just talked to jimin and you aren’t with him?? where are u??

Jungkook 3:18am

Answer your fukin phone

Jungkook 3:23am

Are you still at the party?

Jungkook 3:41am

You aren’t with Trina either? y/n where are you?

Jungkook 4:00am

Don’t make me go back there….pls just answer your phone so I know if youre like, idk fucking alive

Jungkook 4:10am

Fine im going to look for you

“Fuck.” Taehyung hisses under his breath. “I gotta call him…I’m gonna call him okay?”

Your eyes go comically wide at Taehyungs words.

“No!”

“too late” he says, the phone to his hear.

“Hey man, no its me…Taehyung, yeah…yeah….she….” Taehyung eyes you carefully as he speaks on the phone, “She’s fine. She just has had maybe too much to dri—” Taehyung drags a hand down his tired face, “No for fucks sake I didn’t do anything to her. Really dude?”

You lean into Taehyungs space, trying to put your ear to the phone as well and Taehyung can’t help but laugh.

“I read all your texts to be honest…if you have a girl over…what? No, I’m saying y/n can just stay with me…”

Stay with Taehyung? That should make your heart race but—

You think all the alcohol is catching up to you at once and the world becomes even more blurred and a spinning mess. You would give anything to be cuddled up in your blankets with Jungkook taking care of you—wait, no. You don’t need Jungkook to take care of you. You have a perfectly good Taehyung who just offered his place to you.

“I swear man, I’ll take care of h—” Taehyung rolls his eyes, “she might be too drunk to talk….okay, I’ll ask her.” Taehyung lowers the phone and faces you.

“y/n.”

“Hm?” you blink lazily, swaying into Taehyungs chest. Oh no. You feel it, you feel the nausea building up in your tummy, making its way up your chest. On a scale of 1 to 10 how dead would you die if you threw up on Taehyung?

“Do you want Jungkook to come pick you up?”

Jungkook? Like, your Jungkook? Unfortunately for you, your eyes gloss over and probably also unfortunate for Taehyung as well as he looks at you with an alarmed expression . You feel sick. You want to go home. You want to sit on your bathroom floor and throw up in the toilet with Jungkook sitting next to you while he hums a soft tune to soothe you.

“Y-Yes.” You murmur shyly, you begin to sniffle and Taehyung begins to panic.

“Okay man yeah come pick her up.”

“want Jungkook…” you say as a few tears spill over. You are trying your hardest to keep the puke down but its threatening to exit your poor drunk body.

“I think she’s gonna be sick so please hurry…” Taehyung rushes to say over the phone before hanging up.

The next few minutes are a blur, you know Taehyung rushes you to the bathroom. He is overly sweet the whole time you see nothing but blurred, spinning images. He holds your hair back as your body threatens to release tonight’s dinner and says comforting words but nothing makes you feel better. The puke won’t make its guest appearance and your whole world is spinning at a inhumane pace. You’re about to give up on life and fall to the bathroom floor of this gross frat house and try to sleep when you hear him.

“Lemme in dude.” It’s Jungkook. You stir from your sleepy state and turn your head towards the door. He barges in, his eyes landing on you and they soften. He immediately falls to the floor to caress the back of your head and you immediately begin to sob. The tears are out of your control as they slide down your cheeks.

“Don’t...don’t...feel good.” You say between wails, gripping desperately onto his shirt.

“I know baby, I know.” He pulls you into his chest, his hand soothingly running up and down your back. “Has she thrown up yet?” Jungkook looks up at Taehyung with expectant eyes. Taehyung is so caught off guard while watching the two of you.

“uh, no.”

“Okay, can you leave us alone for a while?” Jungkook says somewhat harshly then his features soften as he whispers “She will probably be embarrassed later if you saw…”

“Right.” Taehyung says, his worried expression not going unnoticed by Jungkook. Then Taehyung is on his way out, but he turns one last time to get a look at you.

“feel better y/n” then he is out the door, shutting it behind him.

“Okay y/n…remember what you gotta do?”

“finger?” you slur.

“Yup. Put your finger…yes like that,” he says as you begin to push your finger down your throat to get yourself to throw up.

“I promise you’ll feel better.”

You begin gagging on your finger as you finally throw up in the toilet, Jungkook rubbing your back the entire time giving you words of encouragement.

“Good girl, good girl.” He whispers.

Your face is a fucking mess. Your makeup smeared beyond belief. The black streaks from your tears marking your cheeks in the most horrific way. Jungkook watches you as you cry into his lap on the floor, his heart breaking at the sight. He hated when you drank too much and got like this. He should of never left you alone tonight.

“Jungkook?” you choke out, your tears still spilling from your dark eyes.

“Hm?” he responds, his fingers brushing back your hair.

“Did I ruin your night? Or did you still get some?” you chuckle pathetically.

“Don’t worry about that.” He brushes more hair out of your face, he lifts your head up and places it on a towel. He stands to his feet at the sink, reaching for a towelette and running it under warm water.

“Gonna clean your face okay?” he warns softly.

“kay…” you close your eyes when you feel the wet warmth of the towelette on your cheek. Jungkook is careful to clean you delicately, wiping away the makeup and leaving you spotless.

He’s back under you, your head in his lap and his hands back in your hair.

“you told me you were going to be with Jimin tonight yet you were with Taehyung…”

“It just happened like that” you whisper, sleep beginning to take over.

“I was…really worried about you when I didn’t hear from you, stupid.”

You smile at his words, his touch making you melt.

“Ya know, you’re not the only one allowed to get some Jungkook. I can be like you and have sex too if I want.”

“What are you talking about?” his hand stops in your hair.

“Would if I was getting some? That’s why I didn’t answer?”

“Were you?” his voice is low.

“Well, no—”

“Okay good.”

“Why is that good? Hm?” you open your eyes just a little bit, taking in the hazy world. “Wish it was you I was getting it on with?” you say quietly.

“You’re drunk.”

“I wanna go home.”

“take a nap first, okay?” his fingers begin playing in your hair again, “I’ll wake you up in 30 minutes.”

Your eyes are already closed when he says this, sleep already welcoming you in its warm embrace. “Kay” you murmur.

Jungkook plays with your hair as you snooze in his lap, he watches the rise and fall of your chest and wonders what it would be like to lay his head on it and sleep too.

Bbrrrr bbbrrrrr bbrrrr brrrrrr

A phone call. The most horrifying buzzing occurs next to your face as you sleep peacefully in your bed. Wait, how did you get home last night? You remember drinking and dancing the night away, you remember hanging out with Taehyung…oh no, you remember Jungkook coming to the rescue. Oh no...

You try to open your eyes, but the light from the sun is too damn blinding. You squint at what is in view. Right in front of you, you see black locks of hair poking out of the blanket, a dark blue blanket. You recognize this blanket. Jungkook’s blanket. You are in Jungkook’s bed. With Jungkook. This isn’t so surprising, you imagine you had refused to sleep in your own bed last night—

Bbbrrrr bbbrrrr brrrr brrrrr

Right. Your phone.

You fumble the phone trying to pick it up and answer it when Jungkook groans next to you,

“Hurry up and answer it” he says, sliding deeper under the covers.

“Hello?” you croak out, your voice hoarse and honestly? Disgusting.

“Hey y/n!” This voice is way too damn chipper for whatever ungodly hour it is.

“Tae?”

“Good afternoon sleepy head! Did I wake you?” Afternoon? What time is it? You pull the phone away from your face to check the time.

2:06pm

Holy shit, you’ve slept the day away.

“No no,” you lie, “Just in bed…” you say sitting up from where you lay.

“Great! Do you think maybe I could…come over? We can discuss the whole fake dating thing.” He chuckles into the phone. COME OVER? Immediately you begin smoothing down your hair with your free hand and start to peel back the covers to get out of bed.

“Umm, when?” you glance over at sleeping Jungkook, his face mostly hidden behind the blanket.

“Maybe around 6? I could cook you dinner? I know you had a rough night…”

Fucking great. You don’t want to think of last night, you will die of fucking embarrassment.

“yeah…listen, you don’t have to do all that—”

“I want to!” Taehyung is quick to cut you off, “As your boyfriend—fake boyfriend it is my duty to take care of you!” you feel like you can see the boxy smile on his face. It makes you motherfucking swoon.

“Okay then, 6.” You smile into the phone. “Bye tae.”

You bring the phone down into your lap, clicking the end button. Dinner with Taehyung? Like a date? You can’t help but feel internally giddy at the thought. You squeal for a second before Jungkook speaks up.

“What’s at 6?” he peeks from under the covers, his voice husky and groggy.

“Oh… nothing” you sing, a bright smile on your face.

“Something with Tae?” he begins to sit himself up as well.

“We’re just going to have dinner and talk about the whole fake dating thing.” You beam.

“You’re still doing that shit?”

Automatically you go from super excited to annoyed. Only Jungkook can do that to you.

“It’s harmless, Jungkook. Plus…”

“plus what?” he raises a single brow.

“Trina says this is a good opportunity…”

“y/n I have told you not to get too involved with this guy, but you don’t listen to me.” Jungkook crosses his arms over his chest, then bows his head down in defeat.

“But whatever, learn your fucking lessons by yourself.”

You can’t help but feel like Jungkook is once again looking down at you, like you aren’t good enough for Taehyung. Your breaths become unsteady as you just stare at your best friend like he isn’t constantly hurting your feelings on the matter.

“I—I will be fine. I want him, Jungkook. And this is—this is a good opportunity to show him I can be a good enough girlfriend ya know—”

“Just stop.” Jungkook cuts you off in a harsh tone. “I never said you weren’t good enough? You’re just not what he wants.” Jungkook can see how his words break you further. “Fuck. Forget I said that, y/n…”

“Why can’t he want me?”

Jungkook hates just how quietly you ask that…he hates how defeated you sound, how defeated you look…your head hanging low with no attempt to even look at him.

“He’s just…”

“No, it’s fine. Don’t answer that” You stand from the bed and begin walking towards his door. You look down to see you’re wearing nothing but Jungkook’s t shirt and some panties, you groan at your own shamelessness when you hear the rushed ruffling of the comforter behind you and the plop of feet landing on the ground. Jungkook stands behind you, his fingers wrapped around your wrist.

“Just move on y/n…”

I’m fucking trying to, is what you want to say but instead you opt for a harsh ‘leave me alone’ as you exit his room.

You spend the next couple of hours pampering yourself, you had a rough night and you totally deserve a piece of cake, this bubble bath and face mask. You want to feel relaxed but you can’t get the image of Jungkook out of your head. You hate it when the two of you fight. You mean, to others this would hardly come off as a ‘fight’ but you and Jungkook never really have negative energy. So, yes. It’s a fight. He’s the last person in the world you want to fight with. Yet here you are.

But then the image of Taehyung cooking you dinner enters your mind and somehow you feel a little more at ease. Was this a date? You giggle to yourself, blowing bubbles that reaches your lips as you sink deeper into the tub. You have an hour before Taehyung was to arrive at your apartment…your shared apartment. God, you hope Jungkook takes a hint and goes and hangs out with Jimin or something.

You finally rise from the tub and dry off your now freshly cleansed body. The scent of lavender fills the air and you feel satisfied with how your bath turned out.

You read the clock…5:30pm and you know it’s time to get dressed.

You settle for some high waisted shorts and a white tank top with a purple bralette where the straps are generously shown. Looking into the mirror, you decide to do light makeup and tinted lip balm. You don’t want to try too hard for the boy you’re trying to woo.

And bam. 6pm right on the dot you hear the door being lightly knocked. You begin walking towards the front door but stop to see if Jungkook is in his room or not. He’s not. Relief washes over you as you continue to walk towards the front door. But where did he go? You’re relieved he isn’t home but feel anxious that you don’t know where he could have gone. Maybe to Jimin’s? Maybe to some random girls? Somehow this makes you feel more anxious. You shake away those thoughts and swing the front door open.

“Hey there.” Taehyungs boxy grin is enough to get you pregnant. Like, god damn. He looks amazing. He’s got dress pants and some floral shirt and his hair looks slightly wet. That’s not the only thing slightly wet. You internally cringe at your thought.

“Hey Tae, come on in.” you open the door wider to let the boy through. He walks past you and makes himself comfortable in the kitchen, setting down a bag of what you assume is probably groceries.

“You like spaghetti?” he asks excitedly, almost like a child.

“Who doesn’t?” you smirk walking his way and sitting down at the breakfast table. “Need any help?” you offer.

“Not at all.” Taehyung begins unpacking his things and gets to work in the kitchen. You watch in awe, your head nuzzled in your hands as he does his thing.

“Dinner was amazing Tae.” You go to compliment the chef. It really was. The noodles were long and soft and the sauce was very flavorful. Did you really just compliment the length and softness of fucking noodles? Wow, you are whipped. You almost wish Taehyung was your roommate and not useless in the kitchen Jungkook. Oh. Jungkook. The thought of him enters your mind and it has you hurting. You may be having a blast with your crush but you and your best friend are still in the middle of a fight. About said crush. But this really is your chance. You can get Taehyung to like you, maybe even fall for you. And you need this. You need this. So you can’t give up, no matter what Jungkook says.

“Not as amazing as you” Taehyung winks but then his face drops, “Sorry that was cheesy, wasn’t it?” he drags a hand down his handsome face. “I suck at flirting.”

You look up at him, completely intrigued.

“You’re trying to flirt with me?” you can’t help but to smile slyly.

“Of course I am!” Taehyung laughs loudly then reaches for his backpack in the chair next to his and pulls out a notebook.

“So I wrote some ideas for this whole fake dating thing.” He becomes just a tad more serious as a nervous grin lights up his face.

“Oh really? Should I have a look?” you say reaching for the notebook with grabby hands, “Gimme!”

Taehyung chuckles while pulling the notebook to his chest, “No! Miss Greedy.” He teases. “How about I just read them and we can discuss?”

“fine.” You pout, “Whatever you say.”

“Whatever I say? I like the sound of that.” He smirks then his eyes fall to the paper in front of him. “First, we should go on dates…like all the time. The more time we spend together the more believable it’ll be. Ya know?”

“Okay, makes sense. Makes sense.”

“Second, we should attend all parties together and leave together too.” Then his eyes go wide, “I just mean—like don’t worry, I’ll make sure I get you home.”

You can’t help but giggle, nodding your head to his words.

“Third, we should post each other on social media! For example, I can take a picture of tonight’s date and post it on the gram.”

“Tonight was a date?” you ask, a delighted smile making its way on your face.

“Well, yeah…” he answers shyly.

“anything else?” you question, leaning your head in your hands as you look into his big brown eyes.

“Well….. there is one more thing I wrote down….” He answers awkwardly. His eyes sliding to the side to avert your gaze.

“oh? What is it?” you try to take a peek at the paper, curiosity getting the best of you—as usual.

“I’ll just let you read it…” he then pushes the notebook on the table in your direction, you excitedly pick it up and skim the paper. You look at all the things he wrote down, smiling because he even added his own tips.

Buy her flowers.

Movie dates?

Netflix and chill

Cook her dinner

How cute. He even added little doodles. Your eyes continue to skim the page as your smile grows at how much thought he has put into this. Your heart is beating out of your chest…you know this is all fake and for show but you cannot help how happy its making you feel. You continue to smile and hum as your eyes skim lower and lower until you see the last thing on his list.

No Jungkook.

Huh? Your smile begins to falter. No Jungkook? What does that even mean? You look up to meet Taehyungs eyes. He’s already anxiously staring at you.

“I don’t understand?” you breathe out, “What does that mean?”

“No Jungkook.” He half whispers.

“You—you realize he is my best friend? Why no Jungkook?” you pinch your brows together in confusion.

“It’s just…” Taehyung begins to explain himself, “You two are awfully close. And people already get the wrong idea about you two. Like, all the fucking time. Even I think sometimes…that’s not important. It just means for one month, you’re mine. And I don’t want people to get the wrong idea if you’re always with Jungkook.” He pulls at the hair at his neck. “Is this making sense?” Taehyung looks flustered trying to get out all of his words.

“It would make me look pathetic don’t you think? That my supposed girlfriend is always with some other guy? I mean, y/n it’s just for one month…”

One month without Jungkook? Would you really choose a boy over your best friend? Even if only for a month?

“Tae… I don’t know.” You look down at your hands as your breathing begins to pick up.

“I can’t just abandon my best friend for an entire month…”

“I mean, you guys live together so it’s not like you won’t be seeing him. Just in public…ya know?”

Taehyung has a point, you try to reason. If you have a boyfriend it’s only natural to spend most of your time with them. But it still felt wrong. But… a part of you feels like this is a good idea, actually. You’ve always been meaning to put at least some distance between you and Jungkook, ya know, for your own sake. But this feels wrong. You’re about to decline his request when you hear the front door open and Jungkook’s shuffles in. He has his airpods in and doesn’t even spare you a glance. He walks straight to his bedroom and slams the door shut.

You feel embarrassed in front of your guest that your roommate and also yeah, your best fucking friend didn’t even acknowledge you.

“Uh, he’s in a mood” you try covering for Jungkook. Then you feel the buzz of your phone and you go to check it

Jungkook 8:02pm

Watching you fawn over him is just pathetic, but like, good luck.

All you see is red. Jungkook once again shitting on your love life and raining on your god damn parade. You know what? This is your chance with Taehyung and you aren’t going to let your bratty best friend ruin that for you.

“You know what, Tae?” you say setting your phone on the table.

“Yeah?”

“You’re right. I agree with your list.”

“Wait—you do? Even the Jung—”

“Yup.”

Taehyung tilts his head to the side as a wide grin makes its way across his face, “should we shake on it?” he asks with his hand pushed out in front of you.

You take his hand in yours, squeezing tightly before you pull him in and seal the deal with a quick kiss. Taehyung’s shocked expression makes you giggle, “Thought that would make it more official”

“I like having you as a girlfriend already.”

One month without Jungkook? Bring it on.

[hansolmates]

a hero’s journey (m)

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

prompt used: “I should’ve known.”

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

It’s so easy to ignore the world. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe a little too well. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wow. So that explains everything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Understandable.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But honestly? Fuck Jisoo. 

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

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

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

“Sounds good, thanks Joonie.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nevermind, get out of my apartment.” 

“Uh, this is my apartment.” 

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

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

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

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

“Remember Jeon Jungkook? Majored in graphic design.”

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

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

A pause. And then, “Want a beer?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re running away.” 

“Am not.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, yeah.” 

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

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

“You miss her?” 

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

“Did you talk about it?” 

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

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

“And are you trying to get over him?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

“But it works!” 

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

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

“Bumble.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or are you? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? I can pay for my own food—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Am I allowed to state my opinion?” 

“Since you asked so politely, no.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, he’s your fuck buddy then?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Namjoon holds out his hand, “Hand.” 

“No—”

“Hand.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Pizza also sounds good—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do I want to know?”

“No.” 

“Do you want me to leave?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m home, Jungkookie!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

vernie bernie: or a tickle to my pickle? 

vernie bernie: beatin ya bean? 

You: ohmyGOD 

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

You: call. Ill come after dinner

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hey Pretty Girl–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Only recently,” you frown. 

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

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

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

“Because I wanted to protect you!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But you still love him?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hey Pretty Girl—

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

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

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

Hopefully yours, Jungkook

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’cha got there, partner?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hey Pretty Boy...

Jungkook and Jisoo are no longer together, evidently. 

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

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

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

This time, the letter makes it to its desired destination. You make sure of that because this time you hand-deliver it, slipping under his apartment door knowing he lives alone and no one would be able to access it except him. 

You’re parked in an obscure corner, but you can see that Jungkook is currently having a great time with his co-workers for an after work meal. Yoongi is unbothered on his phone, while Jimin and Seulgi are taking turns throwing fries into each other’s mouth. Jungkook is squished between them, scrunching his nose cutely as he tries not to get in the fray of their fry-war. 

Your phone pings, and you laugh at what pops up on the screen.

Yoongi: come inside, u loser. 

You: can’t ur friend group makes me nervous stop being so dang cute

You: dw i’ll wait, it’s only 11:50

Instead of replying, Yoongi puts his phone down and resumes eating. In turn you pick a playlist, deciding that “summer time high mix✨✨✨” is a theme you need to subscribe to for the rest of the weekend. 

Busying yourself by sending some texts to Namjoon and checking some emails, you relax in your seat as you let your brain turn to sludge for the weekend. You’re tired, eyes glazing over as you watch Yoongi elbow Jungkook harshly, forcing him to look out the foggy window. 

Jungkook’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas Eve, but instead of Christmas lights it's your car’s lowlights. The graphic designer  pays no mind to his friends as they wish him goodbye and goodluck, throwing on his jacket with a wave. 

The night air whizzes by, Jungkook’s floppy black strands bouncing with each step as he bounds to your car. He throws your door open, bringing in the cold air as he regards you as easily as an old friend would. 

“Hi,” he chirps, placing his tattooed palms by the air vent, “c’mon, let’s order.” 

“You know, you could’ve ordered inside and brought it in here.” 

“Yeah but then it would take longer to get to you,” the cheeky grin that Jungkook throws at you is unmistakable, “c’mon, get out the car and let’s switch.” 

“Huh?” 

“You look tired, you didn’t come back from the office again, did you?” 

“I did tonight,” you say, “I just really wanted to get the soft copy of the article done and—” 

“Out, out!” Jungkook clicks your seatbelt off and he’s coming out of the passenger side, opening your car and pulling you out by the hand, “c’mon, I’ll drive.” 

You shake your head, hiding your smile in your hand as you let Jungkook do what he wants. Normally you’d be insulted that anyone suggests they should drive your car but Jungkook would always drive you around, saying he loved long rides. Above all, if you could trust anyone to drive your car, Jungkook is at the top of the list. 

Buckling in, you bite the inside of your cheek as Jungkook easily pulls out of the parking spot one-handed. His jacket is pulled up to his elbows, exposing his veins as he expertly whirls the wheel in the direction of the drive-thru. Since college he’s always looked very attractive driving.  

Doesn’t mean you have to act like you’re still in college. You tamp those feelings down, knowing that your article probably has you feeling stuck in time. 

“—coming along?” 

“Wha?” 

“I said, how’s the spread coming along?” 

“It’s pretty much done, I think. I’ll send you the hard copy when it’s ready,” you tap your fingers against the dashboard, “but are you sure you’re okay with me writing it? I know I’m using a pseudonym and everything for you two but I still feel weird—” 

“It’s fine, I think it’s a good thing,” and you still squirm in your seat when he flashes you a genuine smile, “I mean, it kinda is a funny story and I think it’s good for both of us. Like closure, y’know? Moving on and—hi, can I get two Oreo McFlurrys and a large fry? Thanks!” he pulls out his wallet to scan the total on the e-reader.  “I mean, didn’t it feel good writing it?”

“Yeah,” you replied honestly, relaxing in your seat, “like, college was fun and all, but when Jisoo kinda ruined all that… after awhile I didn’t think it was ruined after all, y’know? I still made amazing friends and ended up where I wanted to be. I want to show the readers that shit happens, and that’s okay. And if things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.” 

The summer playlist hums in the background as Jungkook pulls up to the pick-up window. He thanks the worker and hands you the tray, and you make quick work to put the fries in the first cup holder for optimal sharing. He doesn’t park at McDonalds, but instead smoothly pulls out of the restaurant into the direction of his apartment. It isn’t a particularly long drive, but you figure it would be easier for Jungkook to go home first if you’re already parked at his complex. 

“What do you mean by that?” Jungkook parks in the driveway of his apartment, taking his McFlurry from your hands. 

“Mean by what?” 

“If things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.” 

“Well, we’re here now, right?” 

Jungkook pops his spoon in, swallowing vanilla and a silly smile through his coral pink lips, “We’re here now,” he repeats. 

The night air is cool and your conversation is warm. You promise Jungkook that you’ll send him the final copy of your spread as soon as it’s done, and you two eagerly deviate away from the past and focus on the present. 

You can’t help the eagerness that flows between you, as if you’ve never spent time apart like this and it’s only now that you’re reuniting. It must be absence that makes the heart grow fonder, because you swell with affection and you find Jungkook’s presence sweeter than any kind of ice cream. 

Are you dating now? Maybe. You and Jungkook are going on dates, everything without the title. McFlurry runs, marathons of HGTV’s Design on a Dime, having lunch at each other’s respective buildings with the Wusbands. Whether these dates are exclusive or not is unknown, but you figure the question will present yourself one way or another. 

You’re in a good place right now, potential relationship or not. After all, your priorities are simultaneously positive and in order: family, work, friends, and any potential romantic trysts are at the very bottom. You could kiss the cover of this month’s issue (and trust, you have kissed your own copy multiple times) if it is not for the fact that this specific issue is for Jungkook. 

So, romantic trysts and friends have a tendency to flip-flop on your priority list, but only because it’s Jungkook. 

Unsurprisingly, there’s no guilt knowing that you’re dating your former best friend's ex-boyfriend. 

After a much deserved early work day, Namjoon and the crew arrange a hearty happy-hour filled with good food and enough relaxation to last the weekend. With your combined successes, your team felt like they made the best issue yet. At the heart of it, The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth became a reckoning of each other’s young life. Despite the love and the growth that occurred from your college years up until this point, you’re glad to close that chapter and move forward. 

You did not tell Jungkook when the issue would come out, so you think it’ll be a fun surprise for him when he sees it magically show up at his apartment. Bending down you move to slip the issue under his door, one hand pushing it under while one hand braces against the frame to steady your balance. 

Just as the shiny cover glides under the door it swings open, and you fall flat on Jungkook’s feet. 

Being the little shit he is, he simply giggles at the blunder, looking at you with excited eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he says. 

“Creepy as hell, Jeon,” you mutter under your breath, brushing the dirt off your aqua pencil skirt. Looking at him from your spot on the floor and his large height, you grimace. “You look like a middle-aged serial killer looking outside your peephole.” 

“Now, we know that’s not true.” he finally offers his hand, easily pulling you up to your feet. You follow him into his kitchen, where he’s cutting up fresh fruit. He throws your issue on the counter, gentle enough so it doesn’t slide off the granite. He gestures to himself with both hands, “me, a dashingly handsome late twenty-something in Nike sweats who can bench-press two of you? Totally not a middle-aged serial killer.” 

“It’s in the eyes,” you chastise, “you look crazy.” 

“Maybe I’m just crazy excited to see you,” he says with a cheeky grin. 

You try your best not to choke on your spit at the cheeseball comment, throwing a blackberry in your mouth. Savoring the burst of tart flavor that fills your mouth, you wait for Jungkook to plate the fruit before meeting him on the couch. He’s holding a prettily arranged plate of berries, bananas, and mango with a huge dollop of whipped cream in the middle. In his other hand is Big Hit’s magazine. 

Throwing your blazer on the couch’s arm you don’t hesitate to cuddle up next to him, eagerly waiting for him to read your spread. 

The cover gazes back at the two of you like a reflection. The entirety of the staff is posed on the cover, made to look like a class photo. Some of you are holding balloons in your respective school colors, many of you grouping up with whoever happened to go to college together. You and Vernon are wearing matching university sweaters with silly grins on your faces. In the middle of the issue is the editor-in-chief, Victoria Song holding a placard that reads: Class of Youth. 

Jungkook spares you a glance from the corner of his eye, your head naturally tucked into his shoulder. With an exaggerated sigh, he fiddles through the glossy pages, “Hmm, which one should I read first?” 

“Of course you’ll read mine first,” you pout. 

“Ah, Namjoon’s looks really fun. Or Vernon’s? New York looks pretty cool,” he flips to a random page, “wait, Yerin’s spread is a Korean cookbook! I definitely want to make some tuna rice...”  

“Jungkook,” you whine, “read mine.” 

“I don’t know,” he taps his finger on his lip, “I mean, I pretty much know your spread because I’m already in it. It would be kind of redundant to read it.” 

“Kook, you’re being mean,” you glower, rubbing your cheek against his soft sweater. He’s just so damn comfy. 

“I’m kidding,” he tugs at your cheek, “where’s the table of contents, first page?”

“I’m on page eighty-three.” 

You speed up the process like an impatient child, leaning over to brush the pages to the desired spread. You even dog-earred it, a habit that drives Jungkook crazy as he immediately fiddles to iron out the crease. 

“Are you gonna read it to me too, mom?” he teases. 

“Okay fine! I’ll be quiet, but don’t take too long.” 

“Yes ma’am.” 

Eyes fluttering, you let Jungkook take his time to absorb your piece. A roommate by any other (rude) name: the lost letter. A cheesy, gimmicky title that Victoria insisted upon that you had no choice but relent to. The rest of the spread thankfully has a very authentic edge to it, your story laced with photos of you and Jungkook, your internship with Vernon, and most importantly, a scan of the lavender letter that got left in the past. 

Jungkook’s not silent through his read-through, either. He laughs at all the right parts, fueling your ego as his smile grows at your favorite lines. While he doesn’t directly engage in conversation, his positive energy is enough for you to make you feel like you’ve done your job right. It’s one thing to write about unknown celebrities and unnamed artists, but for people like Jungkook, the validation is personal. 

“It’s beautiful,” Jungkook says when he’s read it thrice through, running his thumb over a picture of you. “Really organic. Really, real.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he chuckles, having run out of adverbs. “It’s funny, too. I liked your little internal monologue. I wish I knew how you felt back then.” 

“I wish you did, too.” 

You’re quietly munching on a strawberry, looking over a polaroid Jungkook took. It was  sometime in the beginning of senior year, where you’ve fallen asleep on his mattress, drool drying on your mouth. Normally you’d be opposed to having such unflattering, grainy pictures amongst your writing, but it encapsulates the youth you’ve tried so hard to chase away. 

“How do you feel?” Jungkook says, switching out the magazine for the plate of fruit, placing it on his side. 

“Feel great, actually,” you muse, smiling to yourself. By no means are you a hero writing some grand gesture in an entertainment magazine, but you feel like you’ve saved yourself. You’ve savored your youth in four thousand words, cutting out the poison and keeping the moment as sweet as it can be. 

“I’m proud of you,” he reaches to ruffle your hair, and you don’t even get mad when it tousles out of your pinned style. 

Reveling in the attention, you simply close your eyes and feed yourself a handful of blueberries. 

“Love that I make money, but I definitely miss college from time to time,” Jungkook stretches, jostling you out of your comfortable position. “Like I remember Taehyung and I would take turns bringing backpacks to the dining hall so we could stuff fruit in it for later.”

“Yeah, but as much as I loved college I wouldn’t go back,” you nod to yourself, “I’m happy where I am now.” 

“What about when we stayed up for midnight breakfast? The dining hall was filled to the brim with food. Remember when I tried to eat a whole stack of pancakes?” 

“Jungkook…” 

“Or when our classes got cancelled and we went to Lotte World? You ate way too much funnel cake and I had to carry you to the car!” 

“Jungkook—” 

“And that one time we snuck out to the music hall’s rooftop?” words gush out of Jungkook’s mouth like a waterfall, unable to relent, “that’s when I realized I liked you. I liked you so much, I tried to tell you that night but choked—”

“Jungkook!” and he immediately zips up, frowning. You straighten up, on your knees as you reach over to run your hands through his onyx tresses, moving the styled strands to the back of his pierced ears, “Jungkook,” you repeat softly, “I’ve heard all these stories, I was there for most of them. As much as I love the past… can we talk about something else?” you give him a small, tentative smile to show him you’re not mad, but a little uncomfortable at his reminiscing. 

He leans into your touch, pressing your palm against the soft swell of his warm cheek. “Okay,” he agrees, resting one hand on your thigh. 

You’re roped in his gaze, and you have to force yourself to breathe when Jungkook moves closer to you. He hooks a leg behind his back, and another across his lap. A cool breeze kisses your inner thighs when your skirt exposes your cotton underwear. You should be embarrassed but instead you’re fixated, unable to understand what he’s trying to accomplish. 

“Then I’m gonna talk about the future,” Jungkook traps you between the couch, his thumb running hot circles to where your skirt has hiked up. It exposes a slip of the thigh that Jungkook has seen a million times. He’s seen you walking around your apartment in a large shirt, ridden up to your boyshorts. It’s different now, you feel exposed and tingly, thrumming with excitement. “I like you, obviously anticipated news and old news. I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to go on dates with you, re-watch Avatar, grumble when I force you to come to the gym with me,” he bumps noses with you when you scrunch yours, “I wanna be with you. Heck, I’ve even cleared space in my spare room so you’d have closet space for all your fancy designer suits if you ever need it.”

“You cleared space?” you manage to choke out. Visions of a shared apartment roll through your brain. Cooking meals together, having two toothbrushes side by side, and waking up to his face. 

“Of course I did. Do you know how financially attractive you are?” he says lightheartedly, “you’re a sexy working woman and it’s crazy to imagine you’d want to settle for me and my little apartment. But I have to try now because if I don’t, it’ll be too late.” 

“That’s not true,” you retort, “you’re not someone I’d settle for. I want you, and no one else.” 

He chuckles, running a thumb over your cheek. “Then what are we waiting for? Your key’s hiding under the mat.” 

“Jungkook…” on the tip of your tongue lays the words you’re going too fast but it doesn’t make its way to the air. 

“But do you really think it’s too fast?” he reads your face clearly, “these feelings never went anywhere. They were locked away, sure. And I loved her,” he can’t even say the name, not when you’re warm and flush against him, “but I loved our friendship more.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you breathe, letting the cogs in your brain roll until sparks develop. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he concedes, “I just wanted to let you know. Could’ve done the letter thing all over again and let the past repeat itself. I know Namjoon wouldn’t hide a love letter for two years, but if I left another damn letter he’d definitely make a copy and tease me about it.” 

You snort, pressing your forehead to his. You’re practically buried in the couch now, tingly and vibrating with happiness. “And I’m not going to leave you hanging. I do want to say something,” and he looks at you expectantly, licking the leftover berry juice on his lips, nearly making you miss your train of thought, “I like you too,” you say, the other L-word is also applicable, but you feel like that phrase is reserved for another time, “I want to show you off on work vacations, bring you along as my date and show them you’re my muse,” you confess, “I wanna play video games with you ‘till 2AM, and eat ice cream in the comfort of our apartment instead of our cars because we’re too stubborn to admit we don’t wanna go home without each other.” 

Jungkook absolutely preens at the affection, sending you a heart melting smile that has your stomach doing backflips.

“Jungkook, I want to fall in love with you again.” 

Your squeal of surprise is swallowed by Jungkook’s lips, tasting of mangoes and berries as strong hands cup your backside, easily lifting you onto his lap. You plop under his strong thighs, feeling them flex against yours. The both of you are pouring in this kiss, raining with promises and hopes for a future with each other. His taste is concentrated, and you can feel the devotion practically injected in his embrace. 

When he pulls away his lips are cherry-red and shiny, looking up at you through clear coffee eyes. “This isn’t a dream, right?” he looks at you up and down, unable to decipher fact from fiction, “because I distinctly remember two wet dreams that involve you looking like this.” 

Looking down, you heat at the disarray you’re in. Hair wild and parted in different wavelengths, tired of the day’s efforts. Your slightly sheer dress-shirt is rumpled, the lace collar opened with two popped buttons revealing your cleavage, and your skirt is stretched so tight that it’s ruched all the way up your thighs. Sprawled across Jungkook’s lap, you’re dangerously close to something long and hard. 

Emboldened, you clutch at Jungkook’s collar, pulling him closer. 

“Show me what happens in your dream,” you whisper into his ear, barely brushing your clothed core against his crotch, “maybe we can make it come true tonight.” 

You can’t see his face, but you feel something dark and sensual overtake him. The grip on your ass tightens, a delicious pain that has you pressing your breasts against him and nipping on his ear, your tongue darting sensually through the cold silver hoops that dart through his skin. 

Within seconds, he rips you away from his neck and demands, “Open.” 

Dazed, you barely get a centimeter of your mouth open when Jungkook presses something cold and sugary against your lips. Whipped cream. You manage to take a small bite of the tart strawberry that he holds by the viridian stem, rolling the flavor between your mouth as Jungkook paints the leftover whipped cream over your lips. Once he’s satisfied he then creates a white trail that leads to your cleavage. 

Better than any dream, his eyes drink you in like the last glass of water in a desert. Your lips are swollen and parted like a baby kitten, covered in the creamy confection. “So pretty,” he exhales, his hot tongue licking from your cleavage to your lips, swallowing the flavor of you and strawberry juice, “such a pretty girl you are, and all mine.” 

“Yours,” you submit easily, rolling your hips against his. 

At that moment you think you’re meant to fall in love this way. You can’t imagine the shy, fumbly Jungkook and your equally confused self waltzing around a relationship when you barely had your lives together. The two of you still had growing to do. The wait is certainly worth it, because as you feel his arms tighten around you, you’re sure this love will stay strong.

It’s difficult for you to find a rhythm at first, what with Jungkook’s strength and need to be satiated, both of you are sloppy but the friction is nothing less than delicious. Your finger reaches over to swipe at the leftover cream on the plate, and you press your finger to Jungkook’s mouth, and he immediately complies. A dollop of sweet cream leaks out of his lips and your panties dampen further when you feel his tongue lick you clean, imagaining how good it would feel if it was your pussy he was licking. 

Your mouth waters at the feeling of his dick lining up against your core, as sticky as the strawberry juice that clings to your bodies. 

“C-can I make a confession? I—oh, Jungkook…” your mind is all fuzzed up when he snaps his hips against yours, causing you to shamelessly bounce on his length. 

“Yeah?” 

“I… I like it when you use all your strength like that,” his hips slow as your words sink in, but you don’t mind as it gives you time to make a long drag along the entirety of his member. “Everytime you pull me up when I trip, or you come back from a workout, I like it when you carry me around like I weigh nothing.” 

“Do—do you think about it a lot?” he grunts, and you stifle a moan when he does a slow, hard drag against your wet folds. “Tell the truth.” 

“It’s, it’s embarrassing,” you whimper, unable to think straight with the amount of stimuli you’re receiving.  

“Please, baby.” 

“Yes mm—oh! I do,” you try to get the words out as quickly as you can. He stops moving, and you groan in frustration so you just lay it all out on the table. “I, I love it when you hold me in your strong arms. And, ah, uh w-henever you come back from the gym you just look so sexy fresh from the shower. Sometimes I think about how you’re too damn nice for your own good but I bet you’d be so rough in bed.” 

“Really?” and then he’s shoving you onto the couch, air brushing against your bare thighs as your back hits the beige throw pillows. He’s hovering, dark eyes starting from the tip of your toes to your damp lips. “You like it when I manhandle you? Throw you around like a little doll?” 

“All that strength, and for what?” you try to keep your snappy remarks in check, but it’s hard when he’s pressing his straining dick against your thigh, weeping and needy. 

“You’re not gonna be joking about my strength anytime soon, baby,” emblazoned, he easily throws your leg over his shoulder, pushing your panties to the side to let your wetness leak out and onto his fingers, “are you gonna complain or be a good girl?” 

“Yes, I’m ah—” you wince when he inserts a finger, “I’ll be good for you,” 

“My good girl,” he revels in the way you melt under his touch, your previous sarcasm quickly dissolving into a puddle. You always had an inkling that Jungkook would be a sneaky fox in bed, all that muscle hidden behind a kind smile and a penchant for tea with milk and honey. 

Jungkook slips in another finger, stretching you and preparing you for what’s to come. He’s scissoring you at a sensible pace that has you squirming and wanting more. To prevent you from shimmying off the couch he holds you down with his free hand, and you love the way he practically feeds you to the couch, hands dancing over your neck as he shoves you further into the furniture. 

“You look so gorgeous,” he says, causing you to moan and keen at his attention, “you’re such a strong, gorgeous woman. Having you sprawled out like this, ready to do whatever I want to you is so fucking hot.” 

“I’m—I’m only weak for you Jungkook,” you say honestly, tears pricking when he dips another finger. The stretch burns deliciously, and your folds eagerly swallow him up until you’re filled to the brim. Your fingers or toys cannot compare to flesh, and you sigh in relief when you see his inked fingers pick up the pace once more. 

“You’re damn right,” Jungkook husks, and with a grain of love he murmurs in your ear, “I’m only weak for you, too.” 

And that’s when he snaps, thumb rolling against your bud as he slams his other fingers against you, going at a brutal pace. You cry out, not caring whether his neighbors hear as he pulls you back and forth through pleasure and pain. 

“T-too much, Kookie,” you mewl, your hand warbling to find his, “I, ah, ‘m gonna cum!” 

“That’s the plan,” he only goes faster, stretching your band further and further before your desired high is reached. His hand trails up to force your chin straight, looking up at him, “let go for me, baby. Wanna feel your pussy clench around my fingers.” 

In seconds, you gush. It has you in a slight panic, drunk on endorphins as you try to lift your head up but Jungkook’s hand is firmly pressing you on your shoulder as he fingers you efficiently through your high, the wet squelching sounds only increasing with your cries. His lap is drenched in your arousal, along with his chin and lips glistening with your essence. 

He finally releases you when you’re practically shaking, his hands sticky and creamy. You moan when he shamelessly licks them within your view, making sure to wrap his tongue around his ink-stained digits. 

“I,” your mouth is dry when you feel the dampness that hits your bottom, “I’ve never, I don’t remember ever—” 

Your babbles are lost between your throat and Jungkook’s tongue, shoved deep into your mouth. Tasting your arousal has you practically vibrating in your place, as you two rut against each other like hungry bunnies. 

“God, you’re amazing,” he says between pecks, kissing away your face of any tears you may have pricked, “Amazing, adorable, absolutely beautifulIadoreyousoso—” 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you press your hips up, wiggling for more attention, “please fuck me, Jungkook.” 

You can’t help the witchy, satisfied smile when Jungkook’s eyes darken to a thick coal, “Anything for you,” he murmurs, swinging your legs between his arms as he lifts you like a feather. 

On his lap again, you soon accept that the way you two mesh like puzzle pieces is one of your favorite positions as it gives you both equal space to ravish each other. 

Just when your hand trails to the waistband of his boxer briefs and you’re rolling your thumb over its collected moisture, the moment is shattered when the doorbell rings. You jump in his arms, unprepared for your moment to be interrupted. 

He groans into the crown of your hair, and you soften in his relaxed hold, “I ordered us pizza,” he nearly forgot. 

Perking your head up to look at him you regard him innocently, as if you didn’t release a waterfall on his sweats two seconds ago. “You got us pizza?” 

“I knew you’d be coming over tonight,” he’s pouting into your neck, regretting ever having called the pizza guy if he knew this would happen, “Victoria posted the publish date on Twitter. I just didn’t think,” he gestures vaguely to the mess on his pants, “this would happen.”  

“Damn, and here I thought I was being sneaky,” you chuckle, flicking his ear playfully. 

He gives you an uncharacteristically subby whine, shamelessly upset he has to let you go so fast after he’s given you your first of many highs. Before he weakens further under your beauty, he unceremoniously shoves you off. “Sorry, pretty girl,” you melt at the easy way his pet name rolls off his lips, “can you wait in my room for a bit so I can pay the delivery guy? I don’t want them to see you like this.” 

“But I want to eat pizza,” you declare stubbornly, standing up to button your blouse and pull down your skirt. 

Before you could fasten one button or pull down one centimeter, his hand darts out to snatch your wrist away from your body. It doesn’t hurt much, but it causes your body to heat in more places than one. He’s sexy like this, demanding your attention. “No,” he rumbles definitively, “my room. Now.” 

“Why?” you throw your hands in the air, yelping when he slaps your ass. He makes sure to make it sting, cupping you fully. 

“Because,” he says firmly, “you don’t get to eat until I eat,” you whimper when his hand reaches to cup your sex, panties wet and cold without his warmth as he pushes you in the direction of his bedroom. 

Oh, you can’t wait for both of you to eat tonight. 

some time later.

“Ohmygod the view is beautiful!” Krystal, who works in advertisement, squeals. “No filter needed!” 

“Alright alright, make room Princess,” Namjoon teases. With a bump to Krystal’s tiny hips Namjoon shoves you two across the pavilion, putting his arm around you once he finds the perfect angle, “Umji, can you get a pic of me and my Work Wife? I want this on the Big Hit Instagram!” 

You hold your straw sunhat down from the salty wind, smiling beautifully as Umji takes multiple pictures of you and Namjoon from her Nikon. Another successful year under your notch, ending with a successful work retreat. 

“Namjoon, can I take a picture with my actual wife now?” 

“We’re not married, Jungkook,” you chastise, patting the chest of Namjoon’s floral printed Hawaiian shirt so he can switch. Instantly, Jungkook slides up next to you like a picture perfect stock model piece, and you wrap your arms around his trim waist, “we’re not even engaged.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he pouts, looking over the pavilion and adjusting the both of you so there’s a good amount of you and the resort in the background. The sun may be scathingly hot, but it looks beautiful perched over the crystal clear waters. “Namjoon, you got it easy,” Jungkook says when he hands him your phone, “every angle is our good angle, so you can’t mess it up.” 

Being the honest man he is, Namjoon knows better and doesn’t say anything to that. Instead he shoots down whatever pineapple-flavored concoction is offered to him on a silver platter, and starts shooting. 

“Is this swimsuit new?” Jungkook murmurs into your ear between shots, flicking your little red number by the strap connecting the back, “because I didn’t see this in the luggage.” 

You smile big, pearly whites as Namjoon demands to pop out your butt and work it, pressing your body closer to Jungkook’s. “Tiny enough so I could hide it in my purse,” you reply proudly, voice low for only each other’s ears, “why, surprised?” 

“Definitely not prepared,” his fingers dig deliciously in your bare flesh, “would Victoria fire you if she catches us doing it in the cabana?” 

Amused that your boyfriend now shares your combined awe and fear of your boss, you twist his nipple lightly. He yelps, and from Namjoon’s guaff he’s definitely got that on camera. “We didn’t come to Boracay to fuck in the cabana.” 

“Then the hotel room?” 

Namjoon hands you back your phone when he considers his job done, letting you and Jungkook have some alone time. You wave your phone in his face, trying to get him to focus on the task at hand. You wanted to post some cute pictures of you and your boyfriend, one to impress the family back home and the Big Hit interns back in Seoul who are absolutely pining for your position. 

“Jungkook, they have the water ski thing where you can flip in the water mid air! Doesn’t that sound fun? Or we can go scuba diving, have Filipino food, or get massages. LIterally, we’re on Big Hit’s dime, and the first thing you want to do is go back to the room?” 

“Yes,” he pouts petulantly, leaning into the hollow of your ear and whispering, “got a chub on.” 

Discreetly so, your hands brush against his navy trunks and you note yes, he’s half hard. “No!” you shake your head definitively, pushing him out of your arms. You’re not letting sex get in the way of your hard-earned vacation, you’re on company dime and you intend to milk every peso of it. “Namjoon, take him away!” 

You blow him a kiss and follow another group who’s decided to go eat, watching your boyfriend get dragged away by Namjoon’s long arms. Krystal, who’s been mildly watching the whole ordeal in-between taking selfies, looks at you in awe, “You got it good, bosslady,” she says, and you happily link arms with her in the direction of the restaurants. 

You and Jungkook definitely have it good. You don’t see him until dinnertime, looking utterly relaxed as he sips on a mango-muddled concoction. He must’ve gotten a couples massage with Namjoon, cute. Splitting up was definitely a good idea, by the time your meal arrives the two of you are practically leaning against each other, telling each other what events you need to do tomorrow and events you think will be fun to do together. 

“Joon,” Jungkook is throwing an arm over your Wusband’s shoulder, mildly tipsy. The image is adorable, as Jungkook long ago previously confessed that he felt a little jealous of Namjoon’s work relationship with you before you were dating. Now, it feels like they’re best friends and you’re third-wheeling. “What do you think about having halo-halo tomorrow? It’s like bingsu but with a bunch of other good stuffs. There’s red bean, mango, ube, ice cream…” 

Just as Jungkook begins his tirade of dessert ingredients, you pull up your phone to check on your social media. You smile back at your profile, seeing your latest Instagram post at the very top of the feed. Not to flex, but the two of you look pretty smokin’ since you’ve been keeping up with Jungkook’s insistence to join him at the gym. Jungkook and you are leaning against the pristine veranda, overlooking the clear blue water and a cloudless sky. The smiles you two sport are genuine and utterly in love. 

You scroll down the comments, most of them filled with sweet messages but one of them has you doing a double take. 

@sooyaaa__: 😒😒😒 knew something was goin on behind my back… good riddance

The smell of Jungkook’s detergent overtakes your nostrils, and you turn to him. He’s stopped talking, now immersed in whatever’s going on in your phone. 

“The nerve of her,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, disgusted at her latest comment. “As if anyone would believe her.” 

“Yeah,” you echo, “I feel bad for her, though. She’s probably lonely.” 

“Her loss, she put this upon herself. Not us.” 

You pout, “I know, but she was my friend at one point.” 

He frowns, putting an arm behind your backrest. It would be easy for him to say yeah, and she was my girlfriend and one-up you, leaving it at that. But now he knows better, and that friendship is a much better value than an ill-fated relationship. “Sorry baby,” it’s not his fault, but he sees your disappointment in putting out hope for an old friend. He gives you a little smooch on your temple, “do you miss her?” 

“The old her, yeah,” you sigh, clicking on her profile, “but now? I can do without her negativity.” 

“Okay,” he takes your phone from your hand, “have you ever blocked a person before?”

“No.”

“Well, today’s the day,” he says it so coolly, you barely have time to think when he clicks the ‘block’ button on Jisoo’s profile, then clicking off his phone to put in his pocket. “No more phone for today,” he proceeds to take your plate that was recently served, taking the time to cut your large vegetables into smaller portions. “Like you said, we shouldn’t waste your vacation time.” 

Your heart swells with butterflies for Jeon Jungkook, who’s meticulously cutting your food and telling you to relax and stop dwelling on the past. He’s right, if Jisoo’s not going to stick around for the future and continue to cause negativity in your life, why not keep the positives in the past while it lasted? 

“You know I love you, right?” 

He ceases cutting, and looks at you to pop a sweet potato in his mouth. “Love me enough to do it in the cabana?” 

He’s still on that? “Jungkook,” you warn, pretending to get up, “forget I said anything. I’m gonna go karaoke with Umji.” 

“Kiddingggg,” he whines, pulling you back down with an outstretched hand, “you know I love you too.” 

“You’re terrible.” 

“Only this way because I’d know you’d totally be into cabana sex if we were vacationing by ourselves.” 

“Yes, but you’re still terrible,” you giggle when Jungkook steals a kiss, just as easy as he’s stolen your heart.  

[okaymybeloved]

promise? | ni-ki

bsf!ni-ki x reader

genre: best friend things, moving away, middle school into high school and college, a bit sad at the beginning, idol!ni-ki

summary: best friends y/n and ni-ki promise to be there for each other, always.

wc: 1430 words (this is so long omg)

a/n: i saw a prompt about pinky promises and thought it would be really cute to make a best friends au with ni-ki :) (this au also is based in japan but moves into korea as it goes on)

a/n pt 2: i will be using “riki” in the beginning of the story but will use “ni-ki” towards the end (it’ll make sense trust me)

“you pinky promise?”

“as always, y/n.”

you and riki have always been close, ever since elementary school. both of you would ride bikes together after school, making your mothers panic because their kids were gone for hours at a time. looking back, maybe you shouldn’t have done that to your mothers but those memories could never be replaced. you guys were inseparable. every aspect of your life was shared with him, as he did with you. emotions included. sadness, anger, happiness, you name it. you even started going to dance classes with him. albeit, you actually did enjoy dancing and would choreograph dances together. you both have spent most of your school life together and weren’t planning to separate from each other anytime soon.

“nishimura riki! i’m over here dummy!” you yelled from across the train station.

riki has been looking at his phone the whole time, only looking up after hearing your booming voice from across the station. he jogged a bit to get to you faster.

“hi, y/n! i missed you soooo much!” he teased.

“shut up, we literally saw each other yesterday. at school.”

the train arrives and you both squeeze through the crowd, conveniently finding two empty seats next to each other. as soon as you sat down, you start making conversation.

“riki, can you believe it? it’s our last day and we’re almost done with middle school. i’m excited but scared for high school. oh! we’re going to go to the same high school right? ah! i’m so excited now! i cant wait!” you spoke quickly and excitedly.

what you didn’t catch was that as soon as you mentioned high school, his face fell. he hasn’t told you that he was moving to korea over the summer. he was planning to do it today.

“yeah! i’m very excited! of course i’ll be with you.” riki says with the most fakest excited voice you’ve ever heard in your life.

you looked at him weird. as you opened your mouth ready to speak, the train arrives at your destination. everyone starts getting off and you both do as well.

the last day of school was so sad for you. during class, you cried when all of your friends gave you the biggest hug. your class was close with the teacher as well and she choked up saying goodbye to everyone. there was not one person in your class that didn’t cry. continuing on to your promotion, everyone received their certificates and started taking pictures with family and friends. your parents had come as well, supporting you on your special day.

“where’s riki? i want to get a picture of you two together!” your mom exclaimed.

“i’ll go find him! i’ll be right back!”

you looked around, hopefully spotting a tall boy amongst the crowd. as soon as you found him, you sprinted towards him.

“riki! riki! come here! my mom wants a picture of us together! hurry!”

he laughs at how much you’re rushing him and starts jogging to where your family was. you both started posing for pictures, taking some goofy ones as well. riki looks at you dying of laughter while looking at the photos that were just taken, realizing that this might be one of the last times he’ll ever see his best friend smile before he leaves.

you both went home and celebrated individually with your families. as the night slowly falls, riki realizes he has to tell you now, or else it’ll be too late. he walks to your house and knocks on the door. you open it, not expecting riki to be there,

“oh! riki! what brings you here? it’s late?”

“y/n, i need to talk to you.”

your heart stops for a bit. all these thoughts in your head were screaming at you. does he not want to be friends anymore? does he hate me? did i do something wrong? riki saw you just standing there, so he says,

“you didn’t do anything wrong, i just want to chat.”

you sigh a breath of relief and grab a jacket and head outside. walking to a nearby park, you both sit at the swings.

“hey, this kind of reminds me of that time you pushed me off the swing.” you laughed.

“it was on accident. plus you didn’t die so you’re fine.” riki snorted

“i broke my arm.” you said stonefaced.

he looked at you and both of you tried to hold in your laughs, but ultimately failed. as the laughter died down, riki becomes serious.

“you’re my best friend, y/n.”

“yes, you didn’t need to tell me that. i know.”

he didn’t know how to say it. but he has to. he just bursted out quickly without thinking,

“immovingtokoreatomorrowtobecomeatraineeandbeinanidolgrouppleasedontbemadatmeforleaving.”

you sat there, stunned.

“say that again, but slower.”

“i’m moving to korea tomorrow to become a trainee and be in an idol group. please don’t be mad at me for leaving.” he said again but slower.

you were trying to process it in your mind. your best friend. moving to korea. leaving you in japan. you didn’t even realize tears were dripping from your cheeks until riki used his sweater sleeve to wipe it. you looked up at him and he had tears in his eyes as well.

“i know i said i would be by your side forever. but this is my dream. i want to dance. i’m so sorry i have to leave you.” he cries.

you raised your hand and wiped his eyes with your sleeve as well.

“riki, it’s okay. i understand. this has been your dream since i’ve met you. i’m not mad that you’re leaving me. i want the best for you, always.”

only sniffles were heard as riki pulls you in for a long needed hug. you pulled apart and looked him straight in the eyes,

“remember when we were younger and did pinky promises?”

“of course i do, we still do that now.”

you immediately held out your pinky.

“nishimura riki, do you promise to always be there for each other, no matter what?”

he looked at your for a bit, and held out his pinky as well.

“of course i do.”

you both intertwined pinkies.

“you pinky promise?”

“as always, y/n.”

a couple years have passed now. you have graduated high school and started applying to different colleges.

riki, or now known to the world as ni-ki, has debuted in a group called enhypen. they have been promoting together for a couple years as well.

when ni-ki went to korea, you both tried to keep in contact as much as possible. however, he was very busy with trainee life and you were busy studying in order to get into a good college. you were so happy when you saw that ni-ki had debuted in a group called enhypen, after seeing him work so hard, especially through i-land.

you applied to all different colleges, mostly in japan but you just wanted to take a risk and applied to a college in korea. you did end up getting accepted into that college and was busy packing up all of your things in order to move.

as you arrived in your apartment in korea, you were so thirsty. parched if you will. heading down to the convenience store, you bought your favorite grass jelly drink. it was a nice day outside so you walked to one of the parks nearby and sat at the swings. maybe they were for young children but you didn’t care. you were in a whole new country with a new future ahead of you. swinging and drinking your drink was one of the most relaxing things to do after that long plane ride. you then felt a presence next to you.

“hi, y/n. it’s been a while.” the voice said.

you were shocked. you’ve only arrived to korea a couple hours ago. how did anyone know your name? you didn’t recognize the voice so you looked up. he looked so familiar. then it clicked.

“riki? or should i say, ni-ki?”

“hi.” he smiled.

you engulfed him into the most biggest hug and fell to the ground.

“see, i told you i promised.” he laughs.

you stood up and pulled him up as well. he stood up confused.

“you remembered what i said before you left?”

“of course i did. why would i ever forget?”

you held out your pinky, all the memories flooding back to when you did this years ago.

“you pinky promise?”

he held out his pinky, chuckling, as he intertwines it with yours.

“as always, y/n.”

[summonerscenarios]

So, mc adopting at least one of each of the Child mobs, how would that go?

IT MAY BE 4AM BUT THAT'S NEVER STOPPED ME BEFORE LETS DO SOME MF HCS.

Sadly I was only able to work on two of the mob kiddos as I didn't want this to get too long but I still hope its okay~!

Also just a heads up a lot of this is a pure waffle of information based on my own interpretations of the mobs so here's hoping I did a good job with them lmao.

---------

It wouldn’t have been the first time you’d ended up inadvertently adopting someone, nor will it be the last knowing your luck. It’s not like you intentionally do anything to draw people to you, it just so happened that the things that you did and situations you got wrapped up in led to you getting to know all kinds of people in the process. And those people saw you in all kinds of ways - most saw you as friends, others saw someone else in you, more than a few made no attempts to hide their blatant flirting - and, rarely, a few would even see you as a role model,a mentor or parental figure to look up to.

You honestly have no idea why, after all, it’s not as though you go out of your way to make particularly responsible decisions (if anything, you get yourself in enough trouble that you’d imagine you’re anything but a role model) but a lot of the younger transients and students seem to flock towards your presence, looking for comfort, advice, or just someone who respects them. At first it was just the younger members of your guild that you technically took under your wing - as the Guildmaster you assumed it was only natural to look out for them, and you’d long gotten used to protecting Agyo and Kijimuna, wanting to make sure that the only thing they had to worry about was having the chance to be kids rather than getting dragged into the Guild’s app-based affairs. It’s not like responsible parental figures are easy to come by in this world of app-battles and fighting, so that’s perhaps why when you start taking a more protective, nurturing role with the younger ones that more of them begin popping up.

Surprisingly, the ghosts are some of the first mob children that you noticed began flocking towards you. Roaming spirits are unusual but certainly not rare, and it honestly breaks your heart a little to see so many young ghosts lingering around in the unexplored corners of the city, searching for one thing or another. Things feel...off, for a while before you can pin down the issue - you start feeling as though you’re being watched when you’re in the guildhouse by someone other than your teammates, and when your attempts to shake off the uneasy feeling doesn’t work, you decide to bring it up to your fellow Guild members in case it’s someone trying to spy. You want to make sure it’s not someone who can bring danger to the guild, but you don’t have much of a chance to set up a search of the building when the D-evils come tottering into your field of view, screeching up a storm and motioning towards an otherwise unassuming corner of the window.

Turns out you weren’t the only one noticing the other presence, as Shiro’s D-evils seem to have picked up on it to - and when your attention snaps over to the window to see what they’re pointing to you barely catch a glimpse of the flickering figure of a ghost child as they disappear from view. From that point on you start spotting the child more often - he’s shy or wary, always lingering someone just out of the corner of your eye but never getting any closer almost like he’s afraid. He seems to have taken an interest in you though, especially whenever the younger guild members come around to spend time at the guild, and it isn’t long before you notice that he’s intently watching the way you watch over and care for the kids of the guild - he looks almost sad in these instances, but never dares to get any closer and disappears as soon as you turn to look at him. Over time it becomes almost normal to have a resident ghost at the guild (though Agyo still shudders at the mention of ghosts despite having seen the kid plenty of times since arriving). He seems to be more at ease after a while of watching you, and things finally come to a head one day when you’re playing videogames with Hanuman and the other kids, noticing that the little ghost has wandered far closer than he’d ever done in the past, watching the small screen setup on the floor with an avid interest that seems far happier than the forlorn looks he’d had before. Taking a chance you tilt your head to look over at the ghost child, motioning him to come over and join; he disappears for a moment, startled, but right as you start to worry you may have scared the kid off he rematerializes, inching hesitantly closer and closer till he’s hovering beside the rest of your group, eyes fixed to the characters on screen with a child-like wonder.

You aren’t quite sure how this ended up with you adopting the ghost child yourself. It’s just one day you were talking about how you were pretty much adopted by the teachers at school and how you’d like to pay it forward some day, and the next you were talking about ‘son’ this, and ‘might as well take the kid under your wing’ that - you were practically acting like an impromptu parent for like a fifth of the people you knew anyway, so what was actually adopting a child? Toji had just about choked to death when you’d made the unfortunate decision to announce that fact mid-drink, and Shiro spent more than his fair share of time probing you with the legal questions surrounding a student adopting a child, ghost transient or not. Ryota seems incredibly excited by the idea however, gushing about being an uncle and wondering if your new son can eat and if so what his favorite food is - plenty of questions for a later time.

Ghost is certainly the most clingy of the children you end up adopting, and it’s clear from the get go in the sense that the poor little one is essentially glued to your side from the moment you take the venture to actually adopting him. With few things remaining in the physical world to cling onto, the familial bond is something that the little one cherishes and he absolutely refuses to budge on letting it, and by proxy, you, go. For a while he actually fears you’re going to leave him and take back what you said about protecting him and being a good parent. He of course had parents once, and their lack of presence at his side now paints a tragic picture no matter what way you look at it, so the kids got more than a few attachment issues you need to work through. Ghost doesn’t really talk too much, instead relying on gestures and interacting with things around him to talk to you and others - it takes a little bit to get used to if you’re unfamiliar with some of the gestures but it’s easy to pick up as time goes on.

Definitely one of the more well behaved children of the bunch, given that once you’ve convinced him that you’re not abandoning him he’s dead set on making you proud. He gets antsy when you’re not around, spending most of his time at the guild when you're at classes, but he takes to following Agyo around instead during these times. Agyo’s more than a little startled at first, and is a bit awkward about the whole situation as he processes it, but before long Agyo’s not only getting along with your ghostly son, but he’s also teaching him the ‘lion dog duties’ that he’s been teaching you - you’ll never quite forget walking in to Agyo giving the poor kid a detailed rundown on the upkeep of the guildhouse and all that it pertains.

It was supposed to only be the one child, you swear, but damn if you haven’t got a bleeding heart and a knack for attracting trouble. Word travels around fast about your adoption, and as more people learn about your impromptu push to parenthood people start coming to you for help - namely, kids with nowhere else to go. Maybe it’s your bleeding heart or savior complex, but before long one kid becomes two, and then two becomes three, and soon enough you’ve got four kids on your hands.

There’s no denying that things get a little bit rocky when you start taking in other children. Despite the other kids in the guild, Ghost has technically been the only child up to this point, and with your attention shifting from both him and the other children at once it’s a sudden change - one that you thankfully discussed with him first to make sure he was okay. Even with the okay though, Ghost is more than a little anxious when you bring the second child, a nether sprite, ‘home’, especially because of how loud she is by comparison. Nether sprite is an absolute ball of energy and mischievous to boot, so she more than makes for an interesting parallel to the otherwise quiet Ghost you’ve been taking care of the past few months.

She’s a handful, especially during the first few weeks that she’s settling in - it takes her a while to really start seeing the place as home, and even longer for her to even consider you a parental figure (she’s seen you as more of a babysitter till you proved you were willing to stick around and put the effort in to be a good parent). Once she does settle in however she takes to the place quickly, and, to your surprise, your two kids become thick as thieves. The Nether sprite catches on quickly to how Ghost communicates, and given his penchant to linger around those he’s close to and follow them around she’s more than happy to drag him all over the shop from one activity to another - it’s a surprising development but one you actively encourage. Unfortunately as I mentioned she’s still mischievous, though tones it down from anything too troublesome if it’ll cause you too much grief.

However that hasn’t stopped the amount of times you’ve gotten calls from someone about the kind of trouble you two little ones have wound up getting themselves into - looks like they both picked up your knack for getting intentionally and unintentionally dragged into the weirdest events (sure, it’s fun when you do it, but having your kids doing it only serves to give you grey hairs from the stress.) And things only get crazier once the other kids end up coming along, for both better and worse - but that’s a story for another time.

[13uswntimagines]

I’m in Love With You Dumbass (Christen x reader)

Request: R are in love with Chris and she’s close with Chris and Tobin so she really think that she wont stand a chance. R is USWNTs videographer/content creator.

Authors Note: Special thanks to @literaryhedgehog​ cause without her this would probably still be trapped in my drafts. Also this turned into something a little silly and a little fluffy, and i really hope you enjoy it!

You blinked at your laptop, squinting as you processed the ten thousand pictures that you had taken during national team practice trying to decide which ones you wanted to put out for the fans. 

It was always a balancing act, giving them little glimpses at training and not giving your major secrets away, but you had mastered it over the years. 

You bit your lip as you swiped past several pictures of your best friend (who you totally didn’t have a crush on). The shot was perfect, well almost. Her green eyes were shining, and her dimples were showing. The only problem you had was that the smile was directed at one Tobin Heath instead of you. 

You were so focused on picking out a picture of Christen that you didn’t notice you were no longer alone in the dining hall. Hell, you didn’t notice anything until two hands landed on your shoulders. 

“Hey,” Emily yelled directly in your ear, you jolted in your seat, nearly falling as Emily and Lindsey cackled. 

You held your hand over your chest, fighting a smile of your own. You might not like being scared, but at least they were having a good time. 

“What are you two up to down here?” 

“Trying to fight the boredom of a lazy day. What are you up to?” Lindsey laughed, settling down into the seat beside you, and leaning over to look at the photos displayed on your laptop. 

“Just editing stuff for tomorrow’s release,” You shrugged, clicking so the photos advanced forward. 

“that last video has the fans going crazy,” Emily mumbled, leaning over the back of the chair to get a better view of the screen, and smirking when she saw a string of pictures focused on a certain forward. 

“Hmm, I’m glad, but it’s you guys who did all the work, I just shot the camera,” You hummed shaking your head. The women were so charismatic and funny that most of it took almost no artistry on your part. You just had to aim and capture. They were the ones giving you golden content. 

“Don’t sell yourself short, you edited like 15 hours of footage into 8 minutes,” Lindsey snorted, and you blushed just a little. Most people didn’t realize how much time a single clip took to put together, so it was kinda nice to have the acknowledgment. 

“But I have a question,” Emily said, her head popping over your shoulder as you began to edit one of the clips from today. It wasn’t anything spectacular, just Tobin threading a ball through for Christen. 

“Yeah Sonnett?” You asked, tilting your head, your tongue trapped between your teeth as you decided where to cut the clip into the one before it. 

“Why does Christen always get more screen time when she’s in those leggings?” 

You froze, the flush moving up your cheeks all the way to your ears. You weren’t that obvious, were you? She just looked so good in those pants, you really couldn’t help yourself. It was for the fans after all… 

“She doesn’t. I just pick the cool shots and stuff,” You grumbled, crossing your arms and slumping in your seat. 

Lindsey’s eyes softened. “If you ever wanna talk about it, you know where to find us,”. 

“There’s nothing to talk about. She’s my best friend and probably dating someone else anyway. I don’t stand a chance,” You mumbled, staring adamantly down at your twiddling fingers in your lap. 

You had known Christen since college, and you had had a crush on her for almost as long. Years ago you had been poised to make your move when one Tobin Heath entered the picture. She had all but swept Christen off her feet, and you knew you didn’t have a chance with the girl. Why would she want the shy camera girl when she could have one of the best players in the league. 

“Yeah, cause she totally doesn’t stare at you as much as you stare at her,” Emily snorted, patting your back. 

“I don’t stare…” You grumbled, pouting. 

“Whatever you say,” Lindsey cackled, a plan beginning to form. 

*****

Christen was not brooding. So she happened to be sitting in a corner, sipping on her beer watching you laugh with someone near the counter across the room from under her eyelashes. But that was not glowering, or even remotely stalkerish. Okay, but who WAS that that you were talking to, and why were they making you laugh so hard you almost choked on your drink?

“Hey Chris, nice view?” Tobin said, sliding into the seat next to Christen. 

“Peachy,” Christen said sarcastically, not looking away from where you were standing. Apparently, that girl you were talking to was interested in cameras, as you were currently showing her yours. Bitch.

“Hm, then why are you glaring at the nice rookie who is buying Y/n drinks?” 

“She’s a lightweight. If Sophia Smith buys her another one of those Long Island Iceteas then Y/n won’t be able to drive home,” Christen grumbled, sipping her beer. If Kelley could get you drunk with three margaritas, they were definitely in for it with the 3 long islands you had consumed. If only the rookie knew what a stupid move it was. 

“So she’ll order an uber.” Tobin shrugged with a smirk. Christen balked at the notion. You were a handful when drunk, and she wasn’t going to leave you alone in the hands of some poor college students. 

“Uber has unethical business practices.” She dismissed Tobin’s suggestion easily. 

“Maybe one of the Riveters will offer to take her then. Are you really going to sit here and pretend this has nothing to do with the fact that you’re head over heels for our favorite photographer?”

Christen rolled her eyes. There was no way in hell she was going to let you get in the car with one of your fans. No matter how supportive they were. 

“Maybe.” She pouted, crossing her arms. 

Tobin rolled her eyes at the reaction. God the two of you moved slower than Sloths. If you kept going at this rate you would be 70 by the time you finally got together. “So are you going to sit here and pout, or are you going to go get your girl?” 

“What if she doesn’t want me?”

“Trust me, she does,” Tobin snorted. Your crush was pretty obvious to anyone with eyes, as was Christen’s on you. The team had bets about how long it would take the two of you to grow the balls to ask each other out (and who would do the asking). 

Christen held Tobin’s eyes for a second. Then she set her drink down on the table and walked over to where you were standing with Smith. You turned to look at her, your eyes taking a second to refocus before you recognized her. 

“PRESSIE!” You screeched, then ducked down and whispered “sorry, too loud.”

“How many of these have you had?” Christen said, casually taking the glass from your hand. 

“Just two- you know that two-drink Y/n has problems with volume control!” You said, laughing at your Brooklyn 99 reference as you stole your drink back and took a big swig. “Don’t worry, I’ll switch to water next.”

“Right. So are you having fun talking to Sophie?” Christen said, not sure how to start the conversation. 

“Oh, sophies nice! Like she’s so funny. She pretended to be interested in photography so I could talk about it since I didn’t know any of the television shows she was talking about. Apparently, I need to watch she-ra or something, but I just don’t have time. And I already promised to watch that thing with you. You know that period drama thing. And you’re nicer. And really pretty. And you give really good cuddles. Even if you always like the villain characters in movies best, like a weirdo.”

“Just because I said Tom Hiddleston was hot one time-”

“It’s Okay, Pressie. I acknowledge that you have a terrible taste in men, you bi disaster you, and that’s okay. I love you anyway. Boop” and with that, you tapped her on the nose. 

Christen rolled her eyes, “Okay, let’s get you home before you profess the rest of your love for the team,” 

“Hmm, don’t love the rest of the team. Just love you, even if you love Tobin more,” You sighed, leaning your head on her shoulder. 

Christen tensed. “What?” She asked. Her and Tobin were strictly friends, and anyone with eyes knew she was hung up on you. 

“I wanna date you, but you’re dating tobito. That makes me sad. She scooped you up before i could profess my undying love, ” You pouted, scrunching your eyebrows together. You meant to tell her after Standford beat North Carolina so many years ago, but they had lost and she had gone to congratulate Tobin. 

Christen shook her head. “I’m in love with you dumbass, not Tobin,” 

You sat up and blinked owlishly at her, suddenly more sober than you had been 20 seconds ago. “You are?”

She rolled her eyes at you, kissing your nose lightly. She wasn’t about to argue with you about who she was in love with while you were drunk off your ass. She would investigate more later, profess her love when you were both sober, and make up for all your lost time “Alright, i think you’ve had enough. Let’s get you home hot stuff,”

[iwavibes]

first off i’d like to say i rlly love your writing🥺🥺 and i want to thank you for sharing your work with us!!! ive read ur whole masterlist and it’s all so so good! i’m obsessed w pretty setters 🥰 i was mayhaps .... wondering if you could write something maid cafe related w either suga, kageyama or kenma? 😳 u don’t have to obviously KDNDKNDKS anyways hope you have a good day today!!!

AAAAA IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE PRETTY SETTERS SO FAR!! you're so sweet omg lemme give u a kith this made my whole day 😩💞 it's 11PM rn so this might be a bit of a mess 😭 fingers crossed that my tired brain won't fuck this up 🤞 finished this at around 12AM NSKSJSKM i hope you like this anon 💕💗

hq reacting to y/n working at a maid cafe

---sugawara, kageyama & kenma

sugawara koushi

sugawara is very adventurous like he'd be all out on trying new stuff

may it be food, hobbies, anything.

man is a knitting legend and he only went to one (1) lesson 😩

king shit 👑✊

so when noya suddenly dragged him to a maid cafe, he didn't think much of it

he was already used to his friend's pervy tendencies

why he was hanging out with him on his own was a mystery

he would quickly scan the menu, eyeing the pictures of cute food along with whatever dish sounds appetizing enough

his concentration was cut off, however, when he heard a familiar voice

even tho you purposefully raise your voice up a notch this man would still know that it's you

he'd blush furiously as soon as his eyes meet yours and seeing you in a cute maid outfit really did not help his case

you'd freeze as soon as you processed the identities of the customers in front of you mostly at suga

noya would eye the two of you knowingly, a somewhat proud smirk on his face

"NOYA I TOLD YOU NOT TO TELL ANYBODY"

"really??? must have slipped my mind."

you wanted to kill him

you would try to get back into character very awkwardly if i might add and suga would just stare at you in disbelief

was this why you always rejected him whenever he asked you out?

my boy would be having a whole ass epiphany and now he's seeing you in a whole new light

"and you, senpai?"

still, even with all these new information, he can keep his cool and tell you what he wanted smoothly.

after that, everything would be going smoothly

but then, as time passes you notice that sugawara hasn't left yet and noya is nowhere to be seen.

by the time your shift ends, he'd stand up from his seat and jog towards you with a smile

"since your shift is over, is it okay for me to take you out? or atleast walk you home?"

and tbh how could you say no to that

"you know, you could've told me that you were working during the weekends. now i feel bad for trying to keep you away from your job." he said as he walked you home.

"well... working outside school campus is strictly prohibited and i didn't want to take any chances. only one of my friends know about it and noya only found out by accident." you explained. "i'm sorry if i made you feel like i didn't trust you."

"it's okay! i totally understand why you didn't tell me. at least now i know when you get off work, this way i can walk you home everyday." he beamed.

you feel your heart pound in your chest at his words, heat slowly spreading across your cheeks as you look at him in shock.

"that is, if it's okay with you?" he stopped walking before turning his body to you. politely awaiting your answer. you nodded your head slowly and sugawara can't help but smile wider.

"you're very admirable, y/n."

kageyama tobio

unlike sugawara, kageyama is a very awkward dude

he lost a bet against hinata and now it was time for his punishment

kageyama may be the king of the court and he may look like the coolest man alive whenever he's on the court but thats about it

everything else, this poor boy is really clueless and awkward someone save him

so while they were walking around town, hinata trying to figure out what to make kageyama do, they passed by the maid cafe you work out

believe me when i tell you a light bulb suddenly sprouted from the tangerine's head

all he needed to do was go inside the cafe and buy some milk

simple stuff

but you should remember that this guy is so awkward and unaware that it can be painful just to look at him try to fit in

and soon kageyama finds himself walking to the cafe, money in hand, as he tried psyching himself out as he steps nearer to the entrance

'i can do this'

'i defeated oikawa so this will just be a piece of cake'

'boke hinata boke'

when he does enter the cafe, he opened the door too hard, making all the customers and employees turn to the sound

this boy would be glaring as he walked to the nearest empty seat

i kid you not everyone is terrified of this boy rn

and he's embarrassed enough as is because of how loud he opened the door and now everyone was looking at him 😭

baby just wants some milk 😩

it gets worse once he sees the person that will be serving him

bc wow have you seen yourself???? you're fucking hot bRO

stutters. A LOT.

and you can't help but to smirk at his flustered state.

"uhhh... m-milk please?" this was the guy everyone is scared of? you wanted to ask your co workers. it's just kageyama. the boy in your class who failed that one exam and practically begged you to tutor him. this?? this is who you're scared of?

you raised a brow teasingly at his state. "of course! would that be all, master?"

this guy literally chokes on his own spit while shaking his head frantically. you chuckled before walking away to get his drink.

"here you are, sir." you say as you settled the glass on his table. taking the money from his outstretched hand. no words. he just wants you to take the money and save him from further embarrassment.

"you know, you may be scary on the court but you're actually very adorable, tobio-chan."

ERROR kageyama.exe has stopped working

kozume kenma

if you guys thought kageyama was bad then... you right kenma is just behind him by a scratch

unlike his fellow setter, kenma can still form words when he saw you

why was he in a maid cafe in the first place? simple;; kuroo

it was one of the rare instances where his best friend actually managed to get him out of the house

and now he's salty

has a permanent frown etched on his face the whole walk to the cafe >:(

and kuroo would be talking away, unbothered by his friend's attitude and now here they were

"you know i've always wanted to come here. i heard they serve really tasty milkshakes."

"kuroo."

"yeah?"

"shut up."

he'd start playing on his phone while kuroo scolds him about how unhealthy it was to play games this much

but kenma remains unbothered

however, the moment he sees you, boi is already lost

he'd stare at you for a long time until you hear the small sfx indicating that he died.

he couldn't care less tho as he pocketed his phone inside his hoodie

kuroo quirked a brow at his friend before turning to you

"y/n! i didn't know you worked here."

"im trying to buy the latest installment of [insert random game here] so i need the money."

wow,, can you be any more perfect?

rn kenma's brain is already whirring with thoughts as he pictured this as one of his roleplay games

y/n says: so what will you be having?

choices: [banana] [latte] [ps4]

he picks the latte

"coming right up!"

and for the first time that day, kenma smiles

"oya?" kuroo spoke up the moment he sees his friend's upturned lips. "what's this?"

his face turned into a scowl again as he glared at his friend. "none of your business."

kuroo smirked, already scheming before standing up. "i'm gonna go to the restroom. watch our food while i'm gone."

"it's not like it's going anywhere." kenma huffed but his raven haired friend was already walking away.

"here are your orders, kenma." you announce, setting the food down on the table. "let me know if you need anything else."

you were just about to walk back to the counter when you suddenly felt a hand stop you by your wrist. you turned around towards a sheepish looking kenma. his eyes landing on every where but you.

"i have that game you're saving up. if you want, we can play it together. it's a multiplayer game right? i haven't started on it because kuroo sucks at shooting games." kenma's voice has always been soft and very quiet. some would've found it hard to understand what he just said but to you, you could hear him as clear as day.

"sure, we can play it this friday if you want?"

kenma nodded, finally lifting his head up to look at you.

"see you on friday then."

[pillow-anime-talk]

thigh high socks.

synopsis: You decide to surprise your boyfriend with your new style of clothing.

# tags: scenarios; studies!au; current relationships; fluff; funny and spicy romance; boys are simps for your thicc thighs/legs; sfw i swear

includes: female reader ft. tooru oikawa, atsumu miya, wakatoshi ushijima, tetsurou kuroo & koutarou bokuto {hq!!}

— TOORU

Since you started browsing a Pinterest main page, you also started buying some new clothes who was similar to those in the pictures. There were many more skirts, shoes, shirts, sweaters and high socks in your wardrobe right now. Even now you have been waiting for the next five packages from AliExpress! Anyway, you’ve just been in the process of dressing up in new clothes to take some photos and just look at your mirror image.

Of course you didn’t look bad. The black skirt, white sweater and black socks looked great on your body and above all on your thicc thighs. Finally, you put on light-heeled shoes and you could go on taking photos, which after an hour you began to browse and rate. You’ve decided to add the two prettiest on your Instagram account with the ‘New style!’ description. This update has brought you many positive comments and lots of hearts, which made you very happy. You felt really appreciated and loved by friends who also added many comments on your new photos.

Anyway, you waited for Oikawa’s reaction; not gonna lie, your boyfriend’s opinion was the most important for you.

Buuuut, the minutes went by and the boy didn’t comment on your update, which was super strange because he had notifications on for your account updates. After a few more minutes you decided not to worry about it and change into more comfortable clothes.

However, you barely touched the high sock and heard a low protest saying to not do it. You turned toward the door and almost jumped when you saw Tooru closing your room door.

“Your mother let me in.” He threw with a smile, walking towards you. “I hope you didn't think I wouldn't comment this beautiful outfit. I just preferred to do it personally.” He added with a confident voice, hugging his chin to your shoulder. “The only thing I’m a bit angry about is that you didn’t send me these pictures privately, but we’ll make up it soon, right, bunny?”

— ATSUMU

You were a thermophilic type of person, so even a light breeze could cause unpleasant chills all over your body. No wonder then that even though the sun was shining, you decided to wear long socks that would protect you from the likely wind in the afternoon. You didn’t even pay attention to how well the high tights socks matched your legs or your university uniform. You just got in you small car and drove to the university. You came on a lunch break that day because your lessons started quite late.

You weren’t hungry, you had your breakfast before, but you went to the canteen only to see Atsumu and friends who, as always, sat at a table next to the big, clean window. You entered the canteen, making quite a fuss. Or rather, your legs have made a sensation, especially among boys. Atsumu choked on drinking milk, seeing your slightly new style of dressing, by the way.

Without paying much attention to the people or their comments, you moved closer towards your boyfriend and your mutual friends.

“Hi, Atsu. Hey, you spit. What a big baby.” You laughed, reaching for a handkerchief from your own bag to wipe his wet lips.

Then you wanted to take a seat next to him, but the boy pulled you on his knees, efficiently covering your thighs with his big hands. Thanks to this you noticed tens of jealous women and hungry male eyes whose turned towards you.

“Disgusting.” You muttered under your breath, leaning against the boy’s chest.

“They are jealous, don’t mind them. You look fabulous.” He answered with conviction, handing you a piece of chicken from his dinner.

Funny fact: your outfit caused such a great stir at the female part of the university that those who were in love with your boyfriend specially dressed high socks for the next day to get his attention. Of course your boyfriend had it in his ass and totally ignored all of them.

— WAKATOSHI

You've never been to your boyfriend's volleyball match before, because of your own schoolwork or the job in candy shop. But one day, when you had free time, you decided to support your man in a duel against another school. You went straight from school to the stadium without saying anything to Wakatoshi, naturally. You wanted to surprise him *pouty emoji*.

You saw your boyfriend when he had interview. At first Ushijima didn’t notice you, but when the interview was over, you came closer to him and patted him on the back...

“O-Oh, Y/N.” He murmured in surprise. “What are you doing here?” He asked in a serious tone, and you just laughed in the answer.

“I came to support you, Toshi.” You happily added.

“I understand. Thank you.” He answered and although it might seem cold, but you knew that Wakatoshi was very happy ‘cause you’re with him now.

Shortly after thanking, the captain noticed your today’s outfit, which was a burgundy dress and high gray socks.

“Is this also part of your support?” He asked quietly, discreetly pointing to your new clothes.

“If you only want, babe.” You laughed, kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll go to take a seat in the audience. We can go eat something after the match if you don’t have plans with your team.” You suggested and Toshi agreed to it. However, before you said ‘See you soon’ to him, the brown-haired boy took off his team hoodie and covered your bare shoulders. You thanked him quietly and then waved hand at him, moving away.

You quickly got your seat at the nearest grandstand, and shortly afterwards the match started. At that time Shiratorizawa Academy had by far the best doping! And all thanks to you!

— TETSUROU

Unfortunately, your train was late, which made you late too for Kenma’s birthday party. Luckily, Kuroo kept sending you text messages with informations that gifts hadn’t been given to his friend yet, so he tell you to don’t have to rush and you should be careful while on your way to the club.

Fortunately, after almost an hour, you safely crossed the threshold of the club with a big present in your hands and greeted Hinata standing next to the door. With your eyes you sought your boyfriend and moved towards him.

“Tetsu, hello! Kenma, happy birthday, I love you, man.” You greeted with a loud voice, attracting the attention of a black-haired man and a birthday boy. They both smiled at you, and Kuroo also gave you a kiss on the forehead.

“Good that you are already, Y/N.” Kenma said with soft smile. You just chuckled and asked where’s the place to put the present. Eighteen-year-old pointed to one of wooden tables, so you went there. And when did you go there Tetsurou notice your today’s party outfit, which consisted of shiny long socks, shorts, a black short-sleeved shirt with a cut-out on the chest, leather jacket and high heels.

Without paying much attention to Kozume, Kuroo moved toward you to wrap his hand around your waist to show that you are here with him. After all, it wasn’t hard to notice the male glances that primarily landed on your sweet thighs and socks.

“Y/N... Did you put those socks with a specific intention or...?” He asked quietly into your ear and you shook your head.

“I thought it was too cold for the dress, but also too warm for the jeans...” You answered truthfully, laughing under your breath.

“Hmm. I understand. Dress them more often then. You looks amazing, my pretty girl.”

“I also have other, much cuter socks at home.” You started even more quietly, winking at him. “But those are only for your insight.” Tetsurou licked his lips at your words, then gave you another kiss, but this time straight on the lips.

— KOUTAROU

Recently, you started to like Korean pop, and delved into the local fashion of many idols, which often appeared in skirts and shorts. Your slightly boring and dark style of clothing was nothing compared to colorful, sweet and lovely girlish creations, which additionally decorated with trifles, berets, socks up to thighs or shoes with bows.

You knew that Bokuto loves you regardless of your outfit, but... you had a vision in your head of how much he would enjoyed your much softer look or hairstyle. You decided to spend some money on new clothes, and then you set up a date with your boyfriend, which he gladly agreed to.

You two met at the entrance to the maritime museum, which Koutarou really wanted to go. Of course, the poor boy was waiting for you there ahead of time because he was so happy ‘cause of your date! So, when he noticed you, he started running towards you, almost tripping over his own legs, when he saw you in an unusual, super cute dress and white, delicate thighs socks.

“Kou!” You squeaked when the boy took you in his arms and spun you around. “Koutarou!”

You quickly moved your hand to your ass to protect your panties from being seen by others people. Bokuto probably went crazy and he didn’t think about anything but only you because of how beautiful you looked in his eyes. He probably fell in love with you for the hundredth time, lmao, we love this puppy man.

And then it was even worse (or better; I don’t know how to describe it) because your boyfriend instead of watching the fish in the aquarium during your date only took pictures of your figure!

[mymelodyheart]

Miles Between Us Chapter 1 ~Stories She Wrote~

PICTURE SOURCE

PART 2 OF  WONDERWALL SERIES

Hey guys, I'm back and thrilled to give you part 2 of WONDERWALL series, Miles Between Us. It is a continuation from my holiday ficlet, All I Want For Christmas Is You. If you haven't read the first part, I suggest you do if you wish to get an insight into Jamie and Claire’s history (Here is the link) Otherwise, this ficlet can also be read as a stand-alone.

I know All I Want For Christmas Is You ending was bittersweet, but it had to be done. Otherwise, there wouldn't have been a Part 2 in this series. I had to leave the story open to possibilities if it is to have a chance of growing. And besides, making this into a series allows me to take breaks from writing and refresh my brain in-between ficlets. So I hope this next part of the story will make up for leaving you hanging all these weeks.

Anyway, before you continue, I'd like to thank you for reading, commenting and giving feedback to my stories. They're all very appreciated even if I sometimes don't comment back. As a hobby writer, I always look forward to your response, and they spur me to continue writing. Without the readers, I wouldn't be here. So thank you for being part of my writing journey.

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

So now everything is said, without further ado, I wish you all happy reading. ❤️

 Previously ...

Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp and James Fraser met and fell in love during the Holiday Seasons. Unfortunately for their budding relationship, after two weeks of a whirlwind romance, Claire has to return to London to finish some work commitment that could take a year to fulfil. It doesn't help matters that Jamie's PTSD condition prevents him from visiting her as loud city noises can trigger panic attacks. They are both in love with each other and are willing to find out where their relationship will head to. But can they find a compromise to bridge the gap of hundreds of miles to give their love a chance?

    After sitting on her bed most of Saturday working on her laptop, Claire Beauchamp rolled her neck and stretched her back, her arms extending above her head. She flinched when her joints cracked.��

Over the past few days, her boss, John Grey, forwarded manuscripts and drafts from the author she was working with. She hadn't eaten anything all day, and her stomach was beginning to grumble, and her eyes blurry from reading.

She'd read so much in the past hours, she was practically cross-eyed, and the bridge of her nose hurt where her specs rested. Words upon words had sifted through her brain, but now the lines were beginning to blur together.

She glanced back down on her laptop and opened a file in her document folder, her eyes scanning through lines she knew by heart. She'd been going through her own work lately wondering if she had what it takes to be a writer. Someone who would give her an honest opinion ought to read it before contemplating getting herself a literary agent if she was to start a new chapter of her life and take that leap of faith in her dream career.

A sudden urgency took over, and she needed Annalise to read her work, like right now. Which reminded Claire, her friend was away with Willie, shopping and sight-seeing. He was staying over their place for the weekend for the first time since she and Annalise left Lallybroch. After declining their invitation to join them earlier, the loved-up couple left her to her work with the promise of dinner when they returned.

She was about to reach out for her cold coffee from the bedside table when Raiders of the Lost Ark's theme song blared from her phone. At the same time, a picture of her uncle Lamb appeared on the screen. He was wearing a high-crowned, wide-brimmed, weather-beaten fedora hat and had a lopsided grin plastered to his thickly stubbled face. Rugged, she thought, just like her favourite pair of distressed leather boots, and very Indiana Jones.

Smiling, she tapped the answer button and put the phone on speaker. "Uncle Lamb! Long time no speak!" 

"Sweetheart," he started in a deep familiar voice, "how are you?"

She frowned and pushed her laptop aside. Something was off. "Oh you know, same old ...just finishing work and ..." 

"On a Saturday?" he asked, cutting her off.

"Look who's talking."

He chuckled. "You're young. You should be out. There are so many things to do in London ...especially on a Saturday. "

Claire rolled her eyes but opted to change the subject instead. She wasn't ready to give her reason for working overtime nor share her future plans nor talk about the handsome Scot she met during her holidays. Not just yet, anyway. "So ...to what do I owe the pleasure of hearing your voice, dear uncle?"

"What?" he said gruffly, pretending to sound offended. "Can't I call my favourite girl in the world and check up on her?" 

She mentally sighed. Something must be up since her uncle never called. It was always she who usually phoned, and when he did call on a rare occasion, it was either because something had happened or he was in London. She dismissed the latter since she knew he was in Papua New Guinea. The next conclusion she landed on was his health but thought it absurd. Her uncle was strong as an ox, ate healthily, only smoked the occasional cigar and regularly went for doctor's check-up, a requirement in his job as an archaeologist travelling to remote places.

Unless. "You sound suspiciously chipper. Let me guess ...you met someone. There's a woman in your life." 

He coughed like he was choking on a drink. "No! Why would you say that?" 

Alright, he sounded repulsed by the idea enough. Or was that denial? "I don't know. You seem so ...how shall I say it ...unlike yourself. You normally skip the niceties and get to the point." 

He lets out an impatient breath. "Claire, darling, am I really that awful?"

"No," she replied, ignoring the ache in her throat. She missed their time together but tried not to make it apparent in her tone. He was a busy man, and the last thing she wanted was her uncle worrying. "You don't seem like you're rushing off to anywhere. It's rare you sound this relax."

"It's way past my bedtime already," he sighed. "And besides, work is on stand-by at the moment until we get the license to start digging on site. People here are so damn laid back, and nobody seems to be in a hurry to process the paperwork. I'm not about to hand out cash to speed things along even if bribery is rampant here."

"I see. So you're in Port Moresby then?"

"Yes. As soon as we have the license sorted out, we'll be flying to Lae first thing tomorrow. Hopefully, anyway." He cleared his throat. "Speaking of paperwork, I received an email from my lawyer. Your trust fund has matured, dear. I'll send you the details where to go to and who to contact, and maybe you can start planning your life. Perhaps take a sabbatical and travel with me if you wish."

Ah yes, the trust fund. 

After her parents died, everything they had owned was put into her trust fund by her uncle to secure her future. She'd already received a small lump sum when she turned eighteen, and the money had afforded her, though small and cramped, a decent rental two-bedroom apartment in London with high windows, which was premium in this expensive city. And Annalise, her best friend and roommate made enough money to help pay the ridiculous expensive utility bills. Her own wage just about covered the other expenses with almost nought left for savings, but she hadn't worried knowing there was money in place in her name. She was counting on it to support herself when she pursued her dreams of writing.

"About that, I think I'll let that sit in the bank for a while. It's not like I need the money right now, nor do I have the time to spend it."

"As you wish," her uncle replied. "And another thing I need to discuss with you ...South Lodge ..."

"What about South Lodge?" South Lodge should have been her family home if her parents hadn't died, and she knew it was a highly coveted property because of its historical significance. It was never put into the market for sale since her uncle thought it wasn't his place to decide. It was put on a twenty-year lease to a high profile politician, its payments going towards her trust fund.

"The lease is up, and the occupants will be moving out soon. Unfortunately for you, that information made it to the local news and you were mentioned as the legatee. So don't be surprised if you're bombarded with offers now that your name is out. I'm willing to bet, property investors and developers will be itching to get their hands on it."

Claire took off her specs and pinched the bridge of her nose. God, she hated adulting, paperwork and dealings with lawyers. Maybe she should just sell South Lodge and be done with it, so she could concentrate on her future plans. What do I need a five-bedroom house with one acre of garden in Oxford for? "I'll think about it, uncle. I just have a lot of things going on at the moment. I'm quite sure those things can wait."

"Of course dear."

"Thank you for letting me know." She thought of Jamie, and the Highlands and how much life was a lot simpler there. She really needed to double her effort to tie up loose ends in London and have a heart to heart talk with Annalise. Is her relationship with Willie serious? If not, her friend would have to eventually find a new roommate. After quickly glancing at her bedside clock, she realised they would be here soon and hopefully with a takeaway. Annalise did mention something about sorting dinner out tonight.

"And Claire?"

"Yes?"

"Your upbringing hasn't been the most ideal. Enjoy the money and treat yourself. Don't spend your life doing things that don't bring you joy."

She smiled. Her uncle must have had a rude awakening of some sort to sound so philosophical. Or probably, he did meet someone special. Either way, she wasn't going to push for any answers for now. She really needed to get out of bed, do a few stretches and have a shower before Annalise, and Willie arrived. "I'll try," she finally said.

"Good. I'll let you get back to whatever you're doing."

"Sadly, yes." She shut her laptop and got out of bed. "Take care of yourself, alright? And I'll phone you sometime next week after I've figured out our time differences." 

"Absolutely, sweetheart. Talk soon." 

"Love you, uncle Lamb." 

"Love you, too." 

She terminated the call with a swipe on her screen and rubbed her eyes. She'd been working for seven hours straight, and her eyeballs felt like they're made of sandpaper. Glancing at the corner table, she smiled when she saw Jamie's gifts. Willie had brought them with him when he arrived last night from Inverness. She knew Jamie was making up for his absence, but it couldn't be helped when there's the danger of his PTSD condition worsening in the city. To her delight and surprise, he'd sent her a leather-bound journal, a framed selfie photo of them together, driftwood bookends he made and a box of her favourite Lindt chocolate.

With a contented sigh, she made a mental note to call Jamie after dinner. And to ask her boss first thing Monday morning if she could take her work to Scotland the following weekend to surprise her boyfriend. After all, she was just taking her uncle's advice, and after the work, she'd put in the last couple of weeks, and the extra hours she planned to do the next few days, she deserved a little joy in her life.

..........

Claire leaned forward, and nervously examined her best friend's face. Annalise was hunched down, scrolling her laptop, tongue darting out as she read the paragraphs on the screen. 

What's that look for? Doesn't she like it? She couldn't tell. It was the first time she's showing her work to anyone, one of the stories she had written during her spare time before embarking a career as an editorial assistant for Dreamcatcher Publishing Company. She needed to hear her friend's opinion to know if she even had a small chance of becoming a writer.

Annalise took her sweet time, and Claire wasn't sure if her inscrutable expression was a deliberate act to prolong the suspense, or if she genuinely had no reaction to what she's reading. If it was the latter, Claire would definitely kiss her dream of being a writer goodbye. If it's the former, she's going to strangle her friend for making her suffer. 

She heard the door to the apartment open and close, followed by the sound of keys jangling and heavy footfalls, announcing the arrival of Willie. He'd stopped by to order some food at a local Indian takeaway while Annalise headed straight home to prepare the table for dinner. Instead of calling out to him, she held her breath for Annalise's response. 

Just when Claire was starting to accept her hope of being a writer would never amount to anything other than a pipe dream, she saw the reaction she impatiently waited for. Annalise's mouth formed a comical O, followed by her eyes' widening and random shallow sighs. 

Yessssssss! 

This was massive. Despite Annalise having seen works from established authors Claire had edited for, she'd never witnessed her friend looked this excited. Annalise simply couldn't hide her gobsmacked expression, even if she tried.

"Oh, dear Lord," she whispered, her gaze flicking to Claire and then back to the screen. "Why didn't you tell me you had this? I knew you wanted to be a writer, but this ..."

"So?" 

Annalise took a massive deep breath, her fingers almost shaking. "Oh my God, Claire." 

"Oh my God, wot? Oh my God good or oh my God, bad?" Claire asked, even though she already knew deep in her bones, what the answer was. But she desperately needed to hear the words.

"This is bloody good," she said, as she went back to a previous page, and reread it all over again. After a couple of minutes more, a slow smile started to spread across her face, as she stole a few cheeky glances over at Claire.

Claire knew she could rely on her friend to tell her the truth. If her work had been bad, friend or not, Annalise would have been forthright and told her the hard facts. Nevertheless, she tamped down her own growing excitement. "The question is though ...is it good enough for the mass?" 

Without hesitation, Annalise nodded vigorously, her blue eyes big as saucers. "Oh, Claire, are you kidding me? You really have no idea, have you? Of course, it is! I need to read the rest. Please tell me it's finished." 

Claire relaxed for the first time and slumped back against the headboard of her bed, relief soothing her wild heartbeat. "It's finished."

Annalise let out a whoop as she gripped the laptop tightly. "Oh my God! Give me everything ...I won't be able to sleep tonight if I don't read at least one more chapter of this story." 

"I've got ten more finished materials."

"Oh my God, oh my God! You're killing me. I want it all."

Willie poked his head by the frame of the doorway to her bedroom and eyed them suspiciously. She wasn't sure what he expected to find, but his eyes narrowed when he saw Annalise's flushed face. 

"What are ye both up to?" he asked, frowning. "Ye sound like ye're looking at porn on the internet." 

Annalise grinned and motioned him over. "Sort of." 

Willie hesitantly entered the room. "Sorry?"

"In actual fact, much better than porn ..." Annalise announced, smirking at Claire.

"Annalise!" Claire wheezed when it dawned on her, her friend must have been reading the sex scene part.

Annalise reached out and reassuringly squeezed Claire's hand whilst looking at Willie. "Take a look at this. Claire wrote it."

Annalise handed the laptop to Willie, and both of them earnestly watched his face to gauge his reaction. As he sat down on the edge of the bed and read, Claire knew he would be the real test. Willie being a bloke, she didn't expect him to have the same reaction as Annalise, but she hoped he would appreciate the storyline and plot. Claire already understood, if her story was going to be good enough to be published, its success would be based on women's purchasing power. If he liked her style of writing even a smidgen, then she would be laughing. 

Claire held her breath in anxious anticipation, and approximately a minute and a half later, she got her response. 

His eyes bulged out, and then the tips of his ears glowed with red. In all sort of ways, he was so similar to Jamie but yet so different. But there's no mistaking how vibrantly their ears always lit up when they're embarrassed. Or moved. 

"Kind of explicit," he commented hoarsely, before tucking a tongue into his cheek as if trying to find the right words to say. "But it is an intriguing story with great flow and interesting characters. It's no' the genre I would typically read, but the first few paragraphs of what I've seen so far are riveting. It makes me want to read more."

Annalise, enthusiastically nodded in agreement and waved a hand in the air. "There it is." 

"Ye have a gift, Claire," Willie added, eyes still fixed on the screen and working overtime as his focus became more intense. "The dose of mystery ye've woven into the lines is remarkable and intelligent."

She felt herself beaming in vindication. "Thank you." 

He briefly glanced up at her. "Now that I remember, Jamie did vaguely mention ye wanted to be a writer."

"That's the plan," she beamed.

"Good. Because if ye can produce something like this, then yer talent is wasted on editing other people's work."

"She's got ten more finished stories," Annalise piped in.

Willie arched an eyebrow at Claire and continued reading, and when he finished, he shook his head and let out a low whistle. "Is Jamie the inspiration for this story?"

Her face heated. "I ...ah ...wrote that years ago. And ...um, I've revised and edited it a million times in the past. I wanted Annalise to read it first and find out if it's good enough to be published."

Annalise grinned at Willie, still looking a little flush like she was having a physical reaction to the few lines she'd read earlier. "So what do you think?"

Willie didn't miss Annalise's excited reaction to the story. "It's verra good but I didnae realised graphic scenes affected ye so much. Ye're beet red!" 

"Only when it's very well written," Annalise smirked, taking the laptop from his hands and moving towards him to sit on his lap. 

Willie pulled Annalise closer and kissed her, and Claire sighed. It's both beautiful and terrible being in the presence of people, so in love. While she's ecstatic to see her best friend smitten and happy, it made her sad that Jamie couldn't be here with her. She missed him terribly, and it's only been a fortnight since she had last seen him.

After a few seconds of watching them unashamedly snogged in front of her, Claire clapped her hands, and they both immediately pulled away. "Right, that's enough you two. So, where's the dinner I was promised?"

Suddenly looking self-conscious, Willie promptly lifted Annalise from his lap, plonked her down onto the bed and jumped up, and Claire couldn't help but grin at him.

"Right on it," he muttered, before disappearing from her bedroom.

Annalise laughed and playfully shoved her shoulder. "Passion killer."

Claire ignored the jest. "So you really think I should publish my story?"

Her friend nodded excitedly. "Absolutely! You should have let me read it sooner. From what I've seen so far, you have good, solid material, and I'm convinced, when I read the rest, it will not disappoint." She stood up and smiled. "Come on, in as much as I'm all fired up after reading your story, I'm famished." She got up and left the room.

Instead of moving from her position, Claire stared at her work for a few seconds and just breathed. Although Willie and Annalise were sincere with their praises, she couldn't help but still feel nervous. This next step in her life could either turn out to be huge, or it could get her mocked out of a dream career she loved. 

Pushing aside her doubts and thinking of Jamie, she quickly compressed a copy of her story's file and sent it to him via email to read, hoping he would like her written work too. Who knew, maybe, after reading it, he would be as fired up as Willie and Annalise. 

After hearing the whoosh of the email sent, Claire launched herself off the bed to join her friends, looking forward to Jamie's reaction later and daydreaming of a future in Scotland with her love.

[acabecca]

“Say that you wanna be with me too.” JAS AND BUCKY

I have no idea what this is I’m sorry. I wanted to make it longer and set it during THAT episode of fatws but it didn’t make sense to me to do it, even as an au because apparently I am very fussy when it comes to Jas and Bucky 🙄

(also the picture is not what happens in the prompt i just like is lol)

(featuring a surprise cameo by mr steven rogers because my mind cant process that he might possibly be and is most probably the D word) this prompt is unnecessarily long i apologise

*

Pushing her sunglasses up on top of her head, Jas kept hold of the brightly wrapped present and nudged the car door closed with her hip. She heard more than saw the kids playing somewhere over beside the cabin, and she made her way over to place the box in her hands on the table that was already crammed full of gifts.

Pepper had clearly gone all out and so had everyone else, trying to overcompensate for Tony not being around. It was Morgan’s first birthday without him, and Pepper had opted to invite everyone around instead of the two of them spending it alone, trying to distract her daughter with gifts and friends and games so she didn’t dwell too much on the fact that her father would never be at another one of her birthday parties.

“It’s about time you got here.”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m terrible at gift wrapping so I stopped by my aunt’s place so she could make it look pretty for me,” Jas patted the top of the gift and sent Sam a grateful smile as she took the bottle of water he handed to her.

“Uh-huh,” he hummed, peering at the gift tag. “What’d we get her?”

Jas blinked. “We?”

“Me, you, and Bucky.”

“I’m sorry, was this supposed to be from all of us?” Jas’ brow furrowed in confusion. “Because I’m pretty sure I’m the one who hauled my ass all over New York looking for the perfect present for baby Stark, and I don’t recall you or Bucky giving me any money for it.”

Sam groaned loudly. “Come on, Jas. I’ve been busy. I’ve been on a mission.”

“Yes, I know,” Jas nodded her head. “I was with you. I still made time to go shopping for a six year old’s birthday party. You’re terrible! Bucky didn’t get her anything, either?”

“It’s Bucky,” Sam shrugged his shoulders as though that was enough of an explanation and Jas rolled her eyes, lifting her hand to wave at Pepper, who wiggled her fingers in return before rushing back inside the cabin.

“Jasmine!”

Jas turned at the sound of her voice, grinning when she saw Morgan running towards her and crouching down just in time to catch the little girl as she flung herself forwards. “Hey birthday girl! Are you having a good day? Your mom’s done a lot, huh?”

“There are so many cupcakes,” Morgan’s eyes went wide. “Too many to even count! I tried. Did you bring me a present?” she asked curiously.

“I did!” Jas laughed, turning around just in time to see Sam inconspicuously adding his own name to the bottom of the gift tag. “It’s from Sam, too, and Bucky. But you’re not allowed to open it until your mom says so, okay? I think we’re doing gifts later.”

“I know,” Morgan sighed. “She let me open one, though! Well…” she paused thoughtfully. “Clint snuck it to me and told me to open it before anyone saw. He got me a bow and arrow set and Lila is going to teach me how to use it, and Bruce got me a chemistry set so I can learn how to help him in his lab and stuff like my daddy did, and- did you know Bucky can pick me and Nate up with only one arm?”

“He can, huh?” Jas raised her eyebrows. “That’s awesome! Sounds like you’re having a great day, kiddo.”

“Yeah,” she paused again, biting down on her lip. “I’m going to go back to play with Nate, now. Bye Jasmine, bye Sam! Thank you for coming!” she called, sending a wave over her shoulder as she took off running towards the other kids.

“Good thing she got her manners from her mom,” Sam snorted.

“Hmm,” Jas hummed, a soft smile on her face. “Don’t think I didn’t see you adding your name on the gift tag. You add Bucky’s, too? You better had or he’ll feel like shit for not getting her anything. Where is he, by the way?”

“Sitting down by the kids with Steve.”

Jas almost choked on the sip of water she’d just taken and Sam slapped her hard on the back. “Steve?” she squealed, coughing and wiping at her mouth. “Steve, Steve? Steve Rogers, Steve?”

“You know another Steve who’d be here?” Sam asked with raised eyebrows.

“Steve is here and you give me a poxy bottle of water? Dammit, Sam! I need something stronger,” she groaned softly, screwing the lid back on to her water and, spotting the cooler sitting on the grass by the corner of the cabin, she made her way over to it and reached for a beer at the exact same time someone else did. Looking up as her hand connected with someone else’s, she mer a pair of familiar blue eyes and couldn’t stop herself from grinning. “Hey, Buck! I hear you’ve been keeping Morgan and Nate entertained with your impressive strength,” she raised an eyebrow, unscrewing the cap off her beer and taking a long sip. “Have you been here long?” she asked, but Bucky didn’t reply.

Instead, he grabbed two bottles out of the cooler and straightened up, looking between Jas and Sam before sending her a tight smile and turning to walk back in the direction he’d come from, disappearing around the side of the cabin. Jas turned to Sam in bewilderment.

“What was that about?” she asked, but Sam avoided her gaze as he lifted his bottle to his lips. “Sam? He’s been ignoring me for days. What’s wrong with him, did I do something? I know you know something.”

Sighing, Sam ran a hand over his face. “Look, I don’t wanna get involved in whatever it is the two of you have got going on-”

“What?” Jas interrupted. “There’s nothing going on. What are you talking about?”

“Awfully quick on the defence there, James,” Sam smirked. “...I told him I wouldn’t say anything, and I’m not going to, but do you really not know what you did?” he asked, rolling his eyes when Jas shook her head. “Think back a bit. Day before we flew home, you were talking to your auntie. About Steve. About how they could never really replace Captain America, because he was irreplaceable.”

“Yeah…?” Jas trailer off in confusion. “But, I’m right. They can’t? They tried, and look how well it worked out. They’ll never find anyone like Steve.”

“They’ll never find anyone like Steve, or you’ll never find anyone like Steve?” Sam questioned, smirking when Jas’ face paled slightly.

“That- that’s what he- is that what Bucky thinks I meant?”

“Uh-huh.”

“That is not what I meant.”

“I know.”

“And- did you tell Bucky that isn’t what I meant?”

“I tried,” Sam shrugged. “S’not me he needs to hear it from. I’m not the one he’s got a thing for.”

“Shut up, he does not have a thing for me,” Jas grumbled, shoving at Sam’s face and feeling her cheeks heat up as he cackled beside her. “Sam!”

“What? You’re both too good at avoiding what’s been happening between you for months now and I, for one, am sick of it,” Sam pointed at himself. “I’m the one who has to sit in planes and in cramped apartments and shit with the pair of you and honestly? I’m done. I’m tired of it. We’re at a kids birthday party and the sexual tension between the pair of you is so unhealthy-”

“Sam!” Jas repeated, shoving at him again. “We don’t- that is not- there is none of that tension between us.”

Sam scoffed. “Don’t act like you don’t want Barnes to bend you over and-”

“SAM!” Jas shrieked, darting forwards and covering his mouth with her hand, her whole face turning red when she saw the looks Clint, Pepper, and Laura were throwing her. “Jesus, I- okay. Alright. So what if I do? He’s never made a move, has he? So this whole thing is probably just all in your head.”

“If you’re waiting for him to make the first move then you’re gonna be waiting a hell of a long time, baby. He thinks you’re still hung up on Cap and he’s also a 106 year old emotionally constipated ex-assassin. You’re gonna have to be the one who moves in first, or it’s never gonna happen,” Sam told her gently, reaching forwards and taking her drink out of her hand. “You can start by telling him he got it wrong when you said Steve was irreplaceable. Maybe drop in a little ‘Sam was right and you should listen to him more’, maybe make my life a little easier in future.”

Jas paused, chewing on her bottom lip as nerves filled her stomach. This was not how she had envisioned today going. She’d been expecting a lot of laughs, maybe some tears because she hadn’t been out here since Tony’s funeral, good food and lots of drinks, and now she was seriously contemplating dragging Bucky - her best friend - away from everyone so she could apologise for a misunderstanding that had left him brooding for the last five days. She moaned, pulling her sunglasses off her head and running a hand through her hair.

“I can’t just go talk to him,” she whispered. “He’s… He‘s with Steve. I haven’t seen Steve since… everything. It’s rude if I just go and drag Bucky away from an old man-”

“Either you drag him away or I do. I’ll come with you, I’ll keep Steve occupied and you go talk to Bucky. I am literally being your wingman.”

“Living up to your name.”

“Shut the hell up and get your annoying ass over to your equally annoying boyfriend,” Sam snorted, turning her round and pushing her towards where he knew Bucky and Steve were sitting together. Jas let out a squeak and reached behind her to swat his hands away, laughed as she turned the corner and saw Bucky sat beside Steve on a bench in the shade, watching Morgan run around with some of her friends.

Steve spotted her first and he sent a small, unsure wave. Jas smiled softly in reply and tucked her hair behind her ears, her sunglasses perched atop her head again as she came to a stop in front of them.

“Uhm, hi. Bucky, can I talk to you for a second?”

He looked up, squinting against the sunlight. “Sure.”

“Uh,” Jas glanced at Steve. “In private, maybe?”

Bucky shook his head. “I’m just in the middle of talking to Steve.”

“Oh, I don’t mind, Buck,” Steve looked between the two of them, a somewhat knowing look on his face. “You should go with Jas.”

“But-”

“I’ll sit with Gramps, don’t worry about it man,” Sam clapped Steve on the shoulder, not-so-subtly nudging Bucky out of his seat and forcing him to stand up. Huffing, Bucky placed his beer down on the grass and gestured towards the cabin. Jas nodded her head and followed after him, turning to shoot a glare in Sam’s direction when he called a quick “good luck!” after them.

Following Bucky inside, Jas glanced around the cabin, her eyes lingering on the picture above the fireplace, a selfie that Tony has clearly taken of himself, Pepper, and Morgan. Clearing her throat, Jas blinked rapidly as she tried to keep any tears from falling and ignored the way Bucky was watching her.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, you know, it’s just…” she waved a hand towards the picture and Bucky followed her gaze, frowning as he nodded his head.

“We don’t have to stay in here,” he told her. “We can- come on,” he pointed towards the kitchen and Jas trailed after him, coming to a stop by the breakfast bar as Bucky against the worktop opposite her, his arms crossed over his chest. “So uh, you wanna talk?”

“Yeah, I- listen, I didn’t- what I said, about Steve being irreplaceable?” Jas began meekly, and Bucky screwed his eyes shut as he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘I’m gonna kill Wilson’ under his breath. “I think you took it the wrong way.”

“Jasmine, it’s- I- it doesn’t matter-”

“No it does!” she insisted quickly. “It does matter, Buck, because I didn’t mean it the way you think I mean it, and I don’t want you to think that I don’t- I didn’t mean that you’re not…” she paused, trailing off nervously. “You know you’re important to me, right? And I guess I don’t want you to think that there isn’t room in you for life because of my past with Steve, because that’s not what I meant.”

Bucky’s whole face was screwed up, his expression something Jas couldn’t decipher and she almost groaned when she realised he was obviously annoyed by something she had just said.

“You think I want to be a replacement?” Bucky asked carefully. “You think I want to take Steve’s place in your life?”

“No! I mean, I… I don’t know?” Jas replied meekly. “Maybe? I thought you were-”

“I want my own place in your life, Jasmine,” he cut in. “I don’t have any intention of being a replacement for anyone, especially not Steve. I know I could never replace him,” he gestured towards the kitchen window, where they could see Steve and Sam both sat outside of. The two men quickly looked away and Bucky rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose at his friends making it painfully obvious they were listening in. “I see Steve never learned how to be subtle in his old age.”

“Nope,” Jas bit back a smirk and Bucky sighed, grabbing hold of her arm and leading her away from the window. “Look, I thought maybe we - you and I - I thought that maybe there was something happening? That there was something here between us. Am I wrong?” he asked cautiously. “Tell me if I’m wrong and I’ll stop. I can just be your friend, I don’t need or expect anything else from you, not even your friendship if that’s something you don’t want-”

“…Bucky-”

“I want to be with you, Jasmine,” he admitted, his voice low and his cheeks a little bit pink. “I do. I have for a really long time. And if you say that you wanna be with me too, then great! I can take you out on dates, we can get to know each other beyond friendship. But if you don’t? That’s okay, too. Whatever you decide. I just need to know where I stand,” Bucky kept his gaze on her, his heart thumping so loudly in his chest he was sure Jas would be able to hear it. When she didn’t say anything, his stomach sank and he frowned. “Okay, that’s fine, we can forget that I said anything and-”

“No, wait!” Jas gasped, reaching out and grabbing his arm as he began to turn away from her. She tugged him back towards her, standing on her toes and quickly pressing her lips to his. It was a quick kiss, over in a few seconds, and Bucky had barely had time to respond to it before Jas was dropped back down on her toes and clearing her throat awkwardly, her face red. “Sorry, I… I was processing. I’d really like to go on dates with you, Bucky.”

He grinned. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Good. That’s… That‘s good. I’d like that.”

“Bucky.”

“Yeah?”

“You gonna kiss me or am I gonna be the one doing all the heavy lifting in this relationship?” Jas raised an eyebrow and Bucky chuckled, slipping an arm around her and pulling her towards him. He leaned in closer to her, before freezing and looking at her with a furrowed brow. “What is it, Barnes? Did you change your mind already?”

“You don’t still have feelings for Steve, do you?”

“No!” Jas pulled a face. “Bucky. He’s old. Like really old.”

“So am I!”

“Yeah but he looks old.”

“Wow, never had you down for the shallow type, Jasmine.”

She groaned. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

“Okay,” Bucky hummed, finally closing the gap between them and doing as she asked.

Outside, Sam beamed as he peered through the window before he held his hand out to Steve, who sighed and begrudgingly shoved $20 into his waiting palm.

“Don’t think I didn’t see you talking to her, Sam,” Steve grumbled. “You hustled an old man.”

“Yeah,” Sam smiled widely, stuffing the money into the pocket of his jeans. “I did.”

taglist: @sgtbuckyybarnes @mer-writes @foxesandmagic @ohmansebastianstan @chlobenet @jewelswrites-ish @lukespatterson @ocappreciationtag @marveloc-hq (let me know if you want to be added/removed)

[celiaxan]

Looks of Love (Saiouma Fic)

He wondered why no one else could see it.

See the way their gazes follow each other sometimes subconsciously. See one's glance linger far too long to be considered platonic. See how one of them looked when the other laughed. See the soft looks they would give each other when the other wasn’t looking.

Or: a really self-indulgent fic based on my obsession of how lovers look at each other bc it's so soft istg

(whole fic under read-more and ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30140310)

A/N: listen to reflections by the neighborhood for mood music!

Kokichi Ouma loved the way two people looked at each other when they were in love.

(Not that he would admit that to anyone, but still…)

No one else seemed to get it.

But the small lingerings of stares after the other has already looked away. The faintest traces of red still on their face, quickly fading to pink. The mouth formed the smallest of smiles, because how could you frown while around them?

It was sickening at first.

Then it became addicting.

No one (from his group of Rantaro, Miu, and Tsumugi) believed him when he called out Kaede and Maki.

He wondered why no one else could see it.

See the way their gazes follow each other sometimes subconsciously. See one's glance linger far too long to be considered platonic. See how one of them looked when the other laughed. See the soft looks they would give each other when the other wasn’t looking.  

Plus, the way Maki glared at him when he talked to Kaede said a lot.

He wasn’t even surprised when they announced their relationship to the class.

(And he won’t deny collecting some pocket cash from the group in the process, but it’s their fault for not believing him and betting in the first place!)

Kokichi doesn’t know when it started.

If he had to guess, he’d say it happened in two parts.

The first being his first real crush. He had just turned 13, not yet even knowing the urge of strong feelings, hormones controlling his every action.

Still being young, unknowing, and everything, he got over his other ‘crushes’ and ‘relationships’ as quickly as he got into them. He still hadn’t known what was wrong with scanning classmates in the room, picking the girl he thought was prettiest, or the girl that had helped him pick up his pencil, or the girl that he had thought reminded him of himself, a sort of kinship, and told his other friends that he liked them.

Oh, how he regretted leading on whatever poor girl he ‘liked’, just to run away from any sort of sign of confession. It was a cycle of sorts. Pick a girl, say that he liked her, run away or watch her confess to another guy, pick another girl.

Tiring. It was tiring.

He didn’t even remember half of their names.

He did remember someone though.

A boy in the corner that read books during recess.

Kokichi didn’t know his name.

All he knew was that the boy was interesting in his own little way.

It was the first time Kokichi actually looked forward to speaking to someone. It was the first time Kokichi had wanted to know more about the boy. It was the first time Kokichi actually waved someone down in the hallways when their paths met just to say hello. It was the first time Kokichi cared about another person’s opinion.

It was… the first time he felt his face heat up to something as weird as the boy finally saying Kokichi’s name instead of calling him ‘You’.

He still didn’t know his name.

Only the gleam in his eyes when he looked up at Kokichi.

But that only made him more interesting.

They talked quite a bit.

When Kokichi was kicked out from playing soccer with the other boys for cheating and bribing other players. When Kokichi purposely faked an injured knee to talk to him. When Kokichi brought him to his house to study (and oh, the little brat told his step-brother, Rantaro, his name, but not Kokichi).

He loved it.

The boy brought a puzzle one time for Kokichi, who mentioned that he liked them. He started bringing two grape juice boxes instead of one. They would read together. They would bring out harder puzzles. The boy somehow understood Kokichi, knew which part of the homework he would struggle with, even if he lied and said he knew it all.

The boy moved away.

Kokichi didn’t cry.

He wasn’t even sad.

But even he knew that was a lie.

Glancing at him, the boy told Kokichi he was moving. Kokichi had been so used to tossing away random friends, random girls, he thought that’d be the same, he was okay with it.

He wasn’t.

A year later, after a big realization (and six ‘Am I Gay’ quizzes), he told Rantaro.

Rantaro choked on his tea. “Oh, cool. That means I’m not the only gay in the family. But uh...”

“What, spit it out, dear sibling. I have to rob a bank in Russia later!”

“I already knew,” Rantaro continued, ignoring Kokichi’s arson plans. “It was kind of obvious after I met your little friend,” Rantaro suddenly raised an eyebrow, smiling into his tea. “Or boyfriend?”

Kokichi’s world shattered with another revelation. “He wasn’t my boyfriend! Also, I didn’t like him.”

Or did I?

“No, you totally did.”

“Did not.”

“Whatever,” Rantaro muttered as an end to that conversation.

Kokichi sat there in silence, contemplating. Finally, he started again. “How did you know?”

Rantaro hummed for a bit before deciding on an answer. “If I had to pick a deciding factor, it’d have to be the way you looked at him. Especially when you thought no one was looking.”

“Really?” Kokichi asked, suddenly interested. “What did I look like?”

Rantaro smiled one of his ‘I Know More Than You’ smiles. “Figure it out yourself.”

That was the first part.

Kokichi had forgotten about it for a bit after screaming curses of ‘ fucking asshole! ’ and ‘ your days are numbered, dusty bitch ’. He had never truly forgotten, of course, but instead, it was just pushed to the back of his mind.

But like most things, his problems were solved due to social media.

And TikTok.

Scrolling through gay TikTok, he saw a ‘gay couples through history’ one. Suddenly gaining his interest, he actually tried to watch this one.

Pictures.

Pictures of gay and lesbian couples flashing through the screen, both of the people looking extremely intimate.

But- their looks- the way they looked at each other. It was mesmerizing. Kokichi couldn’t get more of it.

It was a look of fondness, so soft, that he could feel the attraction through the screen. The photos themself were black and white, but their impact was still strong.

Kokichi looked at them and knew - swore on his life- that he wanted something like that. Small glances full of affection. It held so little but meant so much.

He had always thought that people looked the brightest when they looked at the one they love.

And the eyes.

The eyes were soft, dreamy looking, dare he even say- beautiful.

He wanted that.

He already gave that.

That was the second part.

“So, get it, Shumai? That’s how I called all the class couples before they got together! It’s because I’m super observational and very good at connecting these pieces.”

“...It actually sounds like you’re a sap.”

“What?! Shuichi, you’re so mean to me!”

Now, Kokichi was sitting in a classroom with his current crush, Shuichi Saihara, on the roof. Their hands almost connected on a desk.

And as Kokichi looked closer, Shuichi began looking increasingly nervous, like he was going to break something if he wasn’t careful enough.

“So, do you know where your friend, uh- ‘Boy’, you called him, do you know where he is now?” Shuichi asked suddenly.

“Huh? Nope, I don’t!” Kokichi responded. They were both drinking grape juice boxes. “Why, jealous? Have you finally fallen for me after all?”

Shuichi stiffened, moving the topic along more. ���Then...what would you say to him if he was here right now?”

Sighing, Kokichi sank down in his seat, thinking intensely. “I don’t know. I would tell him I want to be friends again. Maybe if I was bold enough, I would tell him that he was my first gay crush.”

A small chuckle before Kokichi continued. “That’s got to be an honor! First crush from Kokichi Ouma himself!”

Shuichi laughed awkwardly. “Who knows. Maybe they’re closer than you think.”

“What’s got you so optimistic?”

At that, Shuichi stood up, and picked up some of his books with one hand, turning around to reach out a hand for Kokichi. “Take a guess?”

Kokichi only looked Shuichi in the eye as the sun shined behind him. A familiar pair of amber eyes with some sort of gleam shined down on him.

Oh.

And wow. How stupid was he to fall for the same person twice?

Not grabbing Shuichi’s hand, Kokichi stood up on his own on an impulse. “You-!”

The boy- Shuichi’s eyes sparkled with a familiar look. It was the look that Kokichi had seen variations of over and over again. It was a face Shuichi looked at him with the most. He felt foolish for not recognizing it earlier.

Shuichi interrupted him- because he’s the only one that can without being told off by Kokichi- with a soft smile and everything. “I also loved the way you looked at me, because... I looked at you like that too.”

[sunflowerhae]

I’m not in love 🎆🌌

Collegeboy!haechan x female!reader

->A.

⚠️Warnings *PLEASE READ!⚠️

->this story contains heavy themes including drug abuse, alcohol, drug overdose, blood, self hate, character death, and a funeral. There is also strong language used by both major characters. Please continue with these in mind.

⚠️I will put an astric (*) when shit starts getting real.

“So what, do you not love me anymore?”

If it wasn’t the deep blue and dark red lighting illuminating the hallway full of drunk teenagers and one second love stories that made y/n feel claustrophobic, it was the fact that she was currently questioning the past two and a half years of her love life with Haechan, the guilty looking boy in front of her.

This party was supposed to be good for them.

It was supposed to be a chance to temporarily escape the struggles of their everyday lives as juniors in college, and give them an opportunity to actually see each other longer than an hour or two - something that was rare for them, what with y/n’s intense school and work schedule, and Haechans priorities in his fraternity, Nu Cappa Ti, and as the tailback of the schools football team.

Y/n and Haechan met the first week of college. Haechan was rushing for NCT, and y/n’s roommate just so happened to be fucking NCT’s president. When Haechan got a cut from being punched by a guy with a ring in front of a crowd of drunk college students, y/n was there to happily clean the beautiful boy’s - that had caught her eye from across the room, not even one hour before - face. From then on, y/n let herself fall for this boy that she knew was destined to break her heart, and haechan let himself become dependent on this beautiful girl that he knew would hurt him eventually.

But, for the past two and a half years, things had been going pretty okay. I mean, as okay as it can go for two twenty year olds in love, but no time to show it. That’s why this party was supposed to be a thing good for them.

And for a while, it was.

Until the clock hit 12am, and Haechan downed his fifth shot, while y/n sat in the corner of the room, looking pissed and feeling too sober for this shit.

She didn’t understand. She looked hot, the vibe was hot, and Haechan was looking fine, like always. She didn’t understand why he wasn’t talking to her. She didn’t usually go to these parties. She had had a problem with drinking and drugs when she was in high school, and had tried to steer clear of them since coming to college. She thought Haechan understood. And he did. Y/n told him about her past when they first started dating. Haechan never pressured her to join him at the mandatory parties his frat hosted that he had to attend, once every other week or so. He never forced her to drink with him and his friends during his birthdays, or any holidays. He loved her, and he genuinely wanted the best for her.

And that’s not saying that y/n didn’t sometimes engage in a shot or two, or that she didn’t sometimes do a line of coke when she had done particularly bad on a chem test. She didn’t see anything wrong with testing the waters of relapsing, as long as she didn’t go overboard.

As long as she didn’t overdose.

But this party was feeling pretty fucking dry to her, as she watched Haechan slam another empty shot glass on the table tennis top. She saw the eyes that the other girls at the party gave him, and she didn’t miss the smirks and eyefucks he gave them back. Yeah, y/n was feeling pretty upset.

And for once, she wanted Haechan to know.

The only logical thing she could think to do was storm over to him, grab his arm, and drag him away from his dumb friends and their dumb faces and the dumb whores at this dumb party that she stupidly attended because her dumb boyfriend asked her too, and she - like a dumbass - loved him, and would therefore walk off a bridge if he asked her to.

Haechan really wanted to forget that y/n was there.

He loved her, and he was aware that he was the one that asked her to come. But she could feel pretty suffocating when she sat in the corner, with crossed arms while glaring at anyone who caught her eye. Haechan wanted to have fun with her, but y/n didn’t want to be at the party - she wanted to be in her boyfriends arms while binge watching the HBO show “Euphoria” that everyone raved about. That was her version of fun.

However, neither of them would describe fun as yelling at each other in a darkly lit hallway of a smelly frat house at 1 am. One was too drunk, one was too sober; both were extremely pissed. Haechan would have said anything to get away from her at that moment, and y/n would have said anything to get him to stay.

“Look y/n, I think we might need a break.” In retrospect, Haechan was right. They did need a break from each other. Time to re-evaluate their relationship; their needs. But unfortunately for everyone, y/n had very easily replaced the emptiness in her heart from drugs and alcohol with her love for Haechan; and addiction is unhealthy- no matter what it is you’re addicted to.

“Why do we need a break? Why, do you not want to be around me?”

“Maybe not! I don’t know, y/n!”

“Well fuck you! I’m your fucking girlfriend-“

“-fuck you too! You’re fucking obsessed with me-“

“-I’m not obsessed with you, I just love you! I just want to be with you! Hang out with you, not this drunk half assed excuse of a man-“

“-oh what? And you’re such a woman? It’s not my fault you replaced drugs with me, y/n! That’s not my fucking fault-“

“-oh that’s rich coming from you! You’re fucking drunk right now, haechan! You’re a fucking hypocrite-“

“-I don’t want to be with you-“

“-what?” The silence between the two felt so suffocating and intense and loud, y/n couldn’t help but wonder if everyone else in the room was choking like her. The music was loud, and everyone around her was in their own worlds, but y/n and Haechan were dead silent, and that felt suffocating.

“You don’t wanna- you don’t wanna be with me?”

Haechan looked down at the ground, and scratched his neck. “Fuck, I don’t know y/n. I don’t know-“

“So what, do you not love me anymore?”

Haechan didn’t say anything.

The blue lights suddenly reminded y/n of a time in her life when she would wake up feeling like she was being choked every morning. and she wondered if she had just died, and this was her own, personal hell as the choking feeling comes back up into her chest. She could feel herself walk away from him, into the kitchen, where she immediately turned on the sink and splashed cold water in her face. She could see Haechan shake his head and walk away from their spot in the hallway, and she could hear a boy who she had Environmental science with ask her if she’s okay. She could see herself ask him to hand her the fireball bottle on his right, she could see herself drink the whole thing, then do some coke, then take some pills she didn’t even know the name of. She could see herself walk through the party with hazed eyes and focused gaze on the colored walls that seemed to be moving. She could hear her friends asking her where she had been in her ear, she could feel her feet moving around the living room, dancing with her friends to the music she’s never heard before. And when she paid just enough attention and sat just still enough on the couch with the almost empty liquor bottle cold against her thigh, she could feel her heart turning into liquid itself, and falling into her acidic stomach; never to be seen again. She looked around the room, trying to find the eyes of someone - anyone - who could comfort her; hold her. But all she got for comfort and affection were the hot tears that rolled down her face and the inability to stop her chin from wobbling as she broke down on the couch of a frat house at 3am, while the purple and red lights warped her vision to picture a happy life for herself, with Haechan, that she could see dripping down the drain.

Having just enough consciousness to know she had to find her boyfriend, she used the bottle to push herself off the couch, where she then threw the bottle back down and started shuffling around the still crowded party.

She eventually did find Haechan. He was sitting in the corner of a different room, surrounded by a couple of his frat brothers, a couple other friends of his, and a couple girls that were ready to step in and take your place in Haechan’s life at the drop of a hat - or better yet, at the drop of you. He was laughing at something Renjun - a good friend of yours, as well as Haechans - said, when you shuffled up to him and put your hands on his thighs, almost falling in the process.

“Haechan, haechan, I need help. I don’t feel good.” You looked like a crazy lady. You were looking at Haechan with wide eyes, and were repeatingly smacking his thighs with every word.

Haechan was more drunk that he was earlier, and he had had a bit of Jaemin’s coke at this point. He didn’t think you were being that serious, and he figured you were being helpless for no other reason other than you didn’t know what else to do to get him back. Also, he couldn’t help but let the poison from his frat brothers mouths - directed at you - earlier get to him.

“Get off.” Haechan took your hands off his thighs and threw them by your side. Everyone who was sitting around Haechan and his friends were looking on in interest, and as you looked around, you saw that only Renjun looked worried for you in the least bit.

“Haechan, please my stomach feels really fucked up and my head-“

“Just go to my room and clean yourself up. God you’re a fucking embarrassment, y/n.” Haechan hadn’t even looked at you yet, except for when you surprised and slightly scared him earlier when you walked up. He just rolled his eyes, and started whispering in the girl sitting to his lefts ear, something funny, seeing as she giggled and started giving you slide glances. You didn’t have to ask to know that you were the punch-line.

You gave Haechan one more look of surprise, and stumbled away from the group of 20 year olds with shaky hands and bugged eyes.

(*) Something Haechan thinks about a lot, later in life, is this moment, as he finally looks up and sees your back as you stumbled out of the room and to the stairs. He thinks about what he would have said to you, if he knew it was the last time he would ever talk to you. He had eventually come to the conclusion that he would take your warm hands in his, and just hug you. Just to feel your hot breathe on his neck, and your hands in his, one last time. He would have said he loved you, just to hear you say it back once more. He would apologize for the careless words before, and he would give you all the comfort you deserved, and then some.

Sometimes, on the random nights where he isn’t having a nightmare about you, he dreams of this moment. He dreams that he got up, ran to your figure already halfway up the stairs, and pulled you into his arms. He would run his hands down your hair, and drag you to the closest bathroom, where he would shove his fingers down your throat until you threw up into the toilet all the toxins in your system. He would be crying, and mumbling, “please survive this, please survive this, please survive this...” until you were no longer throwing up. He would dial 911, and force you to down a bunch of water bottles, before you were taken to the hospital, and saved. But everytime, before he got the chance to kiss you again, he’d wake up, and he’d be alone in the dark, like always.

You had stumbled up to Haechan’s room, and slammed the door closed with all the power you had in you, not forgetting to lock the door behind you.

You’re body felt like it was on fire. It felt like the acid in your stomach had expanded, and was spreading to every part of your skin, and burning you from the inside-out. You wanted to throw up, run to the bathroom, and faint all at once. You were trying your hardest - and failing - to cool yourself down by fanning you face with your hands. You looked into Haechans mirror on his dresser, and saw that you were not only sweating like a spy being interrogated, but your face was extremely red, and your makeup was running down your face. You pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail, and ripped your shirt off as fast as you could.

You were surprised nobody could hear your moaning and whimpering from out in the hallway. You felt like screaming, felt like calling for help, but you couldn’t open your mouth without a groan coming out. You put your hands above your head and looked for something - anything - to focus your attention on. Your eyes locked on a photo of you and haechan that was taped to the corner of his mirror. It was taken over the summer before your sophomore year of college - although you remember it like it was yesterday. Haechan and your’s close friend group had a tradition of going up to Santa Cruz on the last week of summer, and staying at a friends beach house for a couple days. The photo was taken on the first night. You were all sitting on the beach at night; the bonfire you all wrapped around lit your faces. Haechan had only had one drink, and you opted for a coke. You were both extremely happy, as shown in the photo by both of yours large smiles. You remember that around an hour before the photo had been taken, you had given yourself to Haechan for the first time. You had been dating him for almost a year at this point, and you both felt like it was time. In the photo, haechan had his arm wrapped around you, and you had your head on his right shoulder. Your eyes were bright red due to the cameras shitty quality. Haechan had complained at the time about why Jaemin felt the need to bring not one, not two, not even four, but FIVE disposable cameras; but when the time came to look through the printed pictures, Haechan had a smile on his face and stole every single one with your face in it, par like four or five due to Jaemin’s yelling at him.

“We need y/n to be represented!”

“She can be represented by being here, though!”

“Haechan, she might not be here, ya know. You can’t tell the future.”

“Shut up. I’m going to marry her one day.”

You had never had a bigger smile on your face then that moment. Sure, Haechan had told you before that he wanted to marry you one day. But hearing him so willingly say to your friends that he was; that was big.

Now, you couldn’t help but fear that that would never happen.

You tore the photo off the wall, and started staring at it with tears running down your face. You were sobbing at this point. Sobbing so bad that you thought snot started coming out of your nose, yet when you went to wipe it and return your hand to the side of the photo, the blood trail on your hand let you know that it was indeed not snot.

“Shit shit shit,” you whimpered out.

You knew the signs of an overdose. You had to go to rehab when you were 17, and it was pretty fucking traumatizing. The worst part was when they filed you all into another white brick room with shitty lighting and flies buzzing around the tv, and taught you all the tell tale signs of an OD. You had nightmares after that for weeks. It was the only thing that got into your head enough to make you want to be sober. Just so that you wouldn’t have to experience that.

Looks like that plan was flawed.

You wanted Haechan. You needed him. You needed to get to him and tell him you needed a hospital. Yet, when your legs went to take a step towards the door, you finally felt it. You could feel your brain just, die. You fell to the floor - almost like fainting - and started convulsing. The last thing you felt was foom pooling out of your mouth, and the last thing you saw was the photo of you and Haechan, that day at the beach. Haechan’s wide smile brought you to a blissful sleep with open eyes.

(Please take a second to collect yourself before you continue reading. Thank you.)

Haechan was getting really fucking bored of this party. He had stopped drinking once you walked away, and that had been maybe three hours ago, so he was feeling way more sober. The sun was glaring at the mountains now, and peaking through on the town below. Upon looking at the time on his almost dead phone with a deep sigh, he saw it was nearing 6am.

Haechan regretted what he said to you. He hadn’t seen you since you walked away, and he didn’t know if you had left, or fallen asleep on his bed. He hoped it was the latter, that way he could cuddle up to you and silently beg your forgiveness for his drunken and harsh words. He finally started walking up the stairs after saying goodnight - or, good morning - to his friends; Renjun’s final words to him actually kind of scaring him.

“Dude, y/n didn’t look so good.”

“Eh, I’m sure she was fine. Probably tripping or something.” Haechan shrugged off Renjuns fear as he took another swig from his water bottle.

“Nah, man. She looked, like, really fucked up.”

When Haechan got to his door, he turned the knob, only to find that it was locked. Figuring you were asleep, he gave a couple hard knocks, so that it could jolt you awake. “Y/n, baby. Open the door. I wanna go to bed.”

You didn’t answer.

Haechan knocked a couple more times. “Y/nnnnn, wake up!”

You didn’t answer. It was quiet. Eerily quiet, actually. You were a light sleeper, and you couldn’t have been drunk, right?

Haechans knocks were a little louder, and a little faster. “Y/n!”

Haechan kept knocking for what felt like forever. He was slightly panicking at this point.

What was wrong?

“Y/n, this isn’t funny. Open the fucking door!” He was full on pounding now.

“Fuck this.” He mumbled, before turning around and walking through the party, which had significantly less people, but still quite a lot. Finally, he set his eyes on who he was looking for.

“Johnny!” He sternly called, while walking up to the drunken giant.

“Yyyahhhh?” Johnny laughed. He was surrounded by Doyoung, Taeyong, and Jaehyun, who were all older members of the frat; Taeyong being the president.

“Y/n locked herself in my room, and she’s not answering. Can you help me break down the door?” Johnny always saw y/n as his little sister. Haechan was the youngest member of the frat with a steady girlfriend, making y/n the youngest of the girls intertwined with the boys. Johnny, being the oldest member, always took a kind of protective role over her. He himself had a younger sister, and she was just a bit younger than y/n; therefore he had a small soft spot for her. At the sound of y/n possibly being in trouble, Johnny sobered up quite a bit, and gave Haechan a curt nod, before following him upstairs; the rest of the boys who were aware of the situation following him.

At the sight of the white door, Haechan’s stomach dropped like a rollercoaster dip.

What if y/n really was in trouble?

Johnny took a place on the right side of the door, while Haechan took the left. While he wasn’t the strongest out of the current men there, he wanted to be the first one in the door.

“Okay, after three. Ready? 1, 2, 3!”

Both bodies slammed into the door. It didn’t budge.

“One more.

1

2

3”

“Fuck! Y/n?”

“Baby! Baby can you hear me? FUCK! SOMEONE CALL 911!

Baby! Hey! DON’T YOU FUCKING DIE ON ME!” Haechan tried shoving his hands down your throat, he tried to give you CPR, - which he didn’t even know - but nothing worked. You had foam laying out of your open mouth, and your eyes were wide open, with your hands laying outward. Haechan caught site of the picture in your hand, and moved it out of the way, before grabbing your hand and bring it up to kiss it.

“Please. Please survive this.” He sobbed, while placing his forehead on your chest.

“Time of Death, 3:46am.” The words echoed in Haechans ears like a gunshot. He couldn’t help but hate himself. If he had actually taken her concerned words seriously, would she be alive right now? She was dead long before he got there, around two and a half hours, to be specific.

The words still echoed in his head while he stood in a bright graveyard in your hometown on a sunny spring day, your favorite season. The black suit he wore made him feel hot, but it didn’t matter to him. The huge bouquet of roses in his hands were heavy, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered. Not when he couldn’t stop staring at your parents broken frames. Not when your older brother and sisters couldn’t stop crying and holding their loved ones, having just lost their baby sister. Not when Johnny couldn’t keep the tears in his eyes as he grabbed Taeyongs hand. Not when the weight of Renjun’s hand on his shoulder felt heavier than any bouquet Haechan would ever carry. Not when Haechan felt like the air in his lungs left, and wouldn’t return again. Not when he refused to cry until he was alone, because if he did, he wouldn’t know if he could stop.

Not when he felt like he just lost his soulmate.

He silently placed the roses next to your grave when the ceremony was done. He didn’t want to say much. He knew he’d be back here soon, anyway. He finally snapped out of his daze when he felt a soft hand being placed on his shoulder, and turned to come face to face with the lady that raised you.

“She loved you so much. She talked about you all the time. I was always worried about her when she left for college, but then she started talking about this boy she met who changed how she thought of the world, and then I met you, and I knew she was in safe hands. Thank you, Donghyuck. For giving my daughter a reason to live.” Your mom brought her handkerchief back up to her eyes, and wiped more tears that refused to stop falling. Your father, who was standing behind your mom, stepped forward and hugged Haechan, while mumbling in his ear “don’t be a stranger, please,” before grabbing his wife’s hand and walking towards the car. Haechan wanted to take their words to heart, really. But he couldn’t get the thoughts out of his head. When he had focused his attention on your moms tears, did you cry? When he couldn’t stop looking at your parents holding hands as they walked away, he would never be able to hold your hand again. When he was your father place a kiss to his moms forehead before opening her door for her, you died alone.

Haechan turned to hear his name being called by Taeil, a graduated member of NCT who drove him to the funeral, and shuffled to the car with his head down.

When they got back to the dorm, Haechan did what he had been doing for the past two weeks since your passing. He kept his eyes on the floor as he walked to his room, not being able to look at the door without going back to the last moment of blissful ignorance he had; yet he looked up when he went into his room, not being able to look at the last spot he saw you in. He flopped onto his bed with a sigh, and picked up the picture of himself and you on the beach, it being the last thing you consciously touched. He plugged in his AirPods, and put on the playlist you had made for him a year ago, that you added to whenever you wanted, like he did with yours. The intro for “Exist for Love” by AURORA came in, and Haechan finally let himself cry for the first time that day. He turned over, and inhaled the scent of your pillow on his bed. Haechan didn’t want to live this life anymore. He didn’t know what life he wanted, but this wasn’t it. He couldn’t stop thinking about it as he heard the door creak open. He knew who it was without having to look up. Wordlessly, Renjun, Jaemin, and Jeno all climbed in to the bed. There was literally no room for the four boys to comfortably lay down, but they liked it like that. It meant they had to hold and hug each other, which made the pain numb just a bit.

Haechan took a deep breath. He didn’t want to exist, but he would. He would continue to exist, because you didn’t get to.

Fin.

[rqnvindr]

hcs for fake dating with ushi n semi 🔥

rosie did you just read my mind and find out one of my favorite tropes i-

fake dating with ushijima and semi headcanons

—

ushijima wakatoshi:

-initially does not understand the concept of fake dating at all, it takes a lot of explaining and convincing to get him to do it

-you told him you wanted him to pretend to be your boyfriend to make your crush jealous and he was like ????

-“(y/n), why don’t you just date the person you’re romantically interested in instead of pretending to date me? this doesn’t make sense.”

-“just trust me toshi, it’ll make them want me, you know?”

-agrees to do it eventually because tendou hops in telling him that it’ll be an ‘exhilarating’ experience 

-“c’monnnn help a friend out. this might be your only chance to get even close to dating (y/n). just go for it, wakatoshi-kun, she might end up liking you back in the end.”

-“you’re right.”

-it starts out small, with ushi walking you to class, hand in hand, and you cheering for him at all of his games

-ushijima is good at hiding the fact that his heart skips a beat whenever he’s with you, in this ‘dating’ situation. he knows that it’s all fake but savors every moment of talking to you and hearing you call his name from the stands

-you start to kick it up a notch when you kiss his cheek in front of your crush, who doesn’t seem to notice and it also makes ushi’s cheeks turn pink

-“i don’t think this is working, (y/n). they don’t seem to care.”

-“they will when we have our first ‘date’ outside of school and post pictures on social media!”

-you take a selfie during the date, which is at an ice cream shop close to the school and it garners lots of attention when you post it on instagram

-ushijima doesn’t really care about the attention though, he’s more concerned about his growing attachment to you. he’s never felt this way about anybody before and doesn’t know what he’s going to do after the contract ends

-one day during lunch, he sees you sulking at you guys’ usual spot, tears threatening to spill

-“what’s wrong?” he asks

-“ushi,” you choke out. “they like someone else.” he goes quiet for a few seconds, his heart sinking at the sight of you sad and also the feeling of moral conflict with his feelings for you

-“i’m sorry (y/n) i-”

-“but, the thing is, i actually think i like you more.” you regret the sudden confession when tension fills the air. “i know this is random but, as our fake dating situation progressed and i got more and more hints that they were disinterested, i realized that you were the one who was truly there for me. i just feel safe with you, wakatoshi, you know.”

-ushijima is shocked that you like him back, when he thought that all this time you truly only had eyes for your crush

-butterflies flutter in your stomach when he smiles softly and blushes slightly. 

-“i’m happy you reciprocate my feelings. i’ll always be here for you (y/n).”

semi eita:

-you loved your friends, but you were tired of them always nagging you to start dating someone

-it wasn’t a concern for you at the beginning of high school, but now you felt like you kind of wanted a teen romance,,,,

-“hey, semisemi,” your best friend hums in response, having gotten used to you calling him the nickname that he originally hated. “what if we,,,pretended to date each other?”

-semi nearly spits out his drink at your suggestion. “you want to, pretend to date me?”

-you tell him about how you wanted to experience high school dating but didn’t really have a crush on anyone so you trusted him to show you without any real strings attached

-that was only half true, because you did think he was kind of cute

-and he’s like alrighty no harm done. he himself has never dated anyone in all 3 years of his high school career and this was his last chance

-semi holds your hand everywhere, opens doors for you, and becomes 10x more protective over you

-“what? i don’t want my pretend girlfriend getting hurt.” he pulls you into his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

-he feels so warm, so real, so very much yours that this doesn’t seem fake for a second, until you remember that it’s going to end after graduation

-semi doesn’t even stop the act when you guys are alone or apart either. he’ll text you, asking if you’ve eaten and will try to brush it off like “i just wanted to give you a reason to smile at your phone.”

-pfft he’s so obvious

-you also notice how he becomes visibly jealous whenever he sees you laughing and talking with another guy

-semi tells you that he has feelings for you very straightforwardly one night as the two of you walk back to your dorms after you came to watch his practice

-“(y/n),” you two stop in your tracks outside the stairs to the dorms. “i-i like you. i have true feelings for you.” he inhales sharply. “i already liked you a lot before we started this contract and never had the guts to tell you before. i’m sorry for leading you on and thinking that there’s no strings attached when i really feel something more.”

-you process everything he just said, sighing in relief

-“i’m actually glad you told me this. because i like you too.” you take his hand into yours.

-“and nothing’s going to change that much because we’ve already been dating for a whole month.” you chuckle. he smiles, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. 

-“yeah. you’re right.”

[daemour]

You’re Still My Universe pt. 4

Title: You’re Still My Universe

Pairing: Jinyoung x BamBam

Genre: Fluff, hint of angst, parent au

Warnings: VerY direct references to sex

Word count: 3024

Summary: Jinyoung’s life is devoted to his son. But the first time he’s been separated, so many other people barge into his life and start taking up what little free time he has left.

inyoung misses Yugyeom. Yes, it’s only been three days since Jinyoung dropped him off at Jaebeom and Youngjae’s, but he really missed him. He misses being woken up at odd hours of the night when Yugyeom has a nightmare and wants to cuddle with Daddy, he misses making pancakes on weekends for a giggly child, and he misses Yugyeom’s kisses.

Yes, he’s been able to focus on work and they’re happy about it, but Jinyoung hopes they don’t take it for granted. As soon as Yugyeom is with him again Jinyoung swears he might even spoil Yugyeom a little more. He’s been moping around the house every time he comes back from work, half-expecting Yugyeom to be running around and trying to climb up his legs.

He should probably go out to take his mind off the empty and silent apartment before all his time is taken up by Yugyeom again. Jinyoung can hear Jaebeom in his head telling him to go do what kids his age do, even if Jaebeom is only a few months older than Jinyoung.

With great difficulty, Jinyoung gets up from the couch where he had been nursing an almost empty soju. He was just so comfortable. God, he feels older by the minute. Today it’s lounging on the couch, tomorrow it will be retirement.

Jinyoung is too lazy to put on something nicer than the wide-legged pants Jaebeom laughs at and a regular tee shirt, he really does feel like a middle-aged man. But in an effort to save his fashion sense, he puts on his scarf and a jacket before heading out. It’s early April, a little cold for his liking but that just makes going out to a nice, warm, place all the better.

He heads almost immediately to the bar he and Jaebeom used to frequent during their university years. It had been so long that Jinyoung was slightly awkward inside for the first few minutes. It was both familiar and yet different and Jinyoung wasn’t sure if he liked it. Different people, different decorations, and yet, there was a sense of familiarity there.

The bartender is different. Last time Jinyoung went there it was a kind old man who would always give him and Jaebeom an extra drink if it was a slow day. Now, it’s some young man who Jinyoung doesn’t recognise, and who might be foreign. Jinyoung wasn’t ever any good at telling the difference, but the person’s aura doesn’t seem Korean. Jinyoung wonders if he’s just as good at making drinks.

Only one way to find out, he guesses. He orders a quick drink, his usual bokbunja, and watches the bartender out of the corner of his eye. The bartender seems natural, smiley even as he takes orders from not so nice people. Jinyoung thinks he was a good choice of bartender. He had such a pretty smile too.

He wishes Jaebeom was here, Jaebeom always liked looking at eye candy with him. Jinyoung pulls out a phone, taking a quick picture of the menu and sending it to Jaebeom for old times’ sake. He gets a reply soon after of his son sleeping on the couch with the cats, and Jinyoung coos under his breath.

The clinking of a glass draws Jinyoung’s attention away from his phone. The bartender had served his drink with a smile. “What’s got you so peppy?” Jinyoung returned the smile.

“My friend just sent me a picture of my kid and his cats. It’s really cute, do you want to see?” Jinyoung may be a bit of an idiot, showing off pictures of his kids to random people, but he feels like he’s doing the world a service. To his credit, the bartender leans over the counter, smiling wide enough for his thick lips to be stretched thin.

“Of course. How old is he now?” Jinyoung turns the phone around with a proud father's smile. The bartender laughs. “He’s very cute, what’s his name?”

Jinyoung can feel his heart blooming with pride. He now knows what his father felt like when Jinyoung was younger and carted around in a stroller. “He’s four, and his name is Yugyeom.” Jinyoung smiles back at the picture. He should make it his lock screen. And home screen. In fact–

Jinyoung saves the picture, immediately setting it to the picture, and the bartender laughs. “Seems like you really love your son. Your friend’s watching over him, right? So are you relaxing with your partner then?”

Jinyoung takes a sip of his drink to prolong giving his answer. The downside of meeting new people was having to remember that Yugyeom has only one parent. “Ah, his mother died in a car crash three years ago.” He downs the drink, letting the sweet alcohol wash away his bitterness.

The bartender’s eyes immediately soften. “Oh, damn, I’m sorry man. That sucks-" his eyes dart around, catching on a new customer, and he excuses himself with a smile. Jinyoung’s eyes follow him again, smile tugging at the corner of his lips. This man was nice enough, friendly and kind.

His phone binged again, and Jinyoung unlocked it, smiling slightly at his brand new lock screen. Jaebeom had texted him; ‘isn’t the deco a bit different?’ and Jinyoung was immediately launching into a whole paragraph or three about the new bartender. He could tell Jaebeom was just responding to respond, not because he was interested, but Jinyoung couldn’t help himself.

The bartender, now that Jinyoung thought about it, was young. Younger than him, maybe. He had a nice smile too, and big eyes that really did make him seem younger. And pretty lips. And he always smiled at the customers, even the slightly pissed ones, offering them a laugh and a drink.

“I’m glad to see you think so highly of me,” the peppy voice caused Jinyoung to look up from his phone and straight into the bartender’s eyes. The words and the meaning behind them took a moment to register, but when it did, Jinyoung’s face burned hot red and he almost threw his phone across the counter.

“I– It’s not-" Jinyoung stammers out, and the bartender just laughs.

He leans across the counter once more, winking. “Maybe you should know my name first, cutie. I’m BamBam.” Jinyoung’s face turns even redder, and BamBam laughs again. “And you are?”

“I’m Park Jinyoung.” BamBam laughs again.

“So stiff, so formal. C’mon, man, crack a smile!” Jinyoung lets the corner of his mouth pull up, and BamBam mirrors it, only wider. It came so easily to him. Jinyoung wishes he could feel as young as he is. He can’t remember the last time he was out and having fun like this.

Even Jaebeom, only a few years older, had time to do this, even married and trying to get through the adoption process. Sometimes, Jinyoung felt like he was losing himself in Yugyeom, losing who he was. He knows it's a far reach, but he feels tired sometimes. BamBam is still smiling, letting Jinyoung work through his tangled thoughts and feelings.

“Sorry,” Jinyoung finally says. He doesn’t know what he’s apologising for, and neither does BamBam.

“Hey, man, I don't think you’re that much older than me, right? Come on, drop the formalities.”

Jinyoung arched a brow. “I’m still a customer, you’re providing me with a service.” BamBam laughed again. He and Jackson were similar in that aspect, never running out of smiles and giggles.

“Well, it’s a good thing my shift ends in ten. Will you stay?” Jinyoung doesn’t know what his ace looks like right now but it must be funny considering BamBam laughs. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know.”

“I don’t know how– I-" Jinyoung flounders for an excuse and BamBam laughs, leaning forward and closing Jinyoung’s open mouth.

“Let me finish up back and when my coworker arrives I’ll come and join you.” Wait, BamBam wants to join him? Before Jinyoung can ask why, BamBam darts off and Jinyoung is left with an empty glass and a bemused smile. BamBam isn’t the same as he is, not at all, but somehow Jinyoung finds that endearing.

The wait is not too long, someone enters and takes their place behind the bar. Jinyoung is about to order another drink when lanky arms loop around his shoulders. He jumps, looking to his right, and there is BamBam grinning at him like a cheshire cat. Jinyoung tries not to be embarrassed but he can feel his ears heat up and BamBam laughs again. His voice is a lot rougher than Jinyoung remembers.

“Hi,” the greeting comes out of Jinyoung’s mouth a lot softer than he’d like and BamBam giggles again.

“Hey. How’s it going?” Before Jinyoung can answer, BamBam turns to the new bartender, exchanging low pleasantries and ordering a drink. Jinyoung once again finds himself looking at BamBam’s gorgeous side profile. He doesn’t know why, but Jinyoung is drawn to him, and it didn’t help that BamBam is insanely pretty. “You could take a picture, you know. It’d last longer.”

BamBam had caught Jinyoung staring again, a shit-eating grin on his face. “I”—Jinyoung fumbles for words as BamBam laughs—”I– do you find joy in teasing me?”

Jinyoung expected an answer that wasn’t flirty, but he had underestimated BamBam apparently. The much skinnier bartender leans in close, breath ghosting over Jinyoung’s cheek. Jinyoung is practically frozen in his seat as BamBam whispers in his ear, “Yes.”

Jinyoung feels like he could explode from the inside, face burning hot and BamBam cackling at his expense. “Stop teasing me,” he whines, “Aren’t I older than you?” BamBam laughs again.

“I don’t know, how old are you?” Jinyoung tells him, and BamBam laughs again. “You are older than me by three years, oppa.” BamBam emphasizes the honorific, and Jinyoung chokes on air, heat pooling in his stomach at the sound of it.

“What the fu-” BamBam cuts him off with an elbow.

“No cursing in the establishment, hyung.” Jinyoung glares at BamBam with no bite.

“You are a pain in my ass,” Jinyoung decides out loud, and BamBam snorts, leaning in and fluttering his eyes at the older, who pointedly turns his head away.

BamBam laughs again, whining and pushing his head into Jinyoung’s shoulder. “Stop ignoring me, hyung,” he draws out the last syllable of the honorific, “Pay attention to me.” Jinyoung turns his eyes to BamBam, mouth tightening at the sight of BamBam’s usual shit-eating grin.

“Then”—Jinyoung is the one leaning forward this time, hand coming around and sliding down to the small of BamBam’s back—”don’t be a brat, BamBam-ah.” BamBam is finally startled, his eyes quavering and his mouth moves from a smile to a gasp.

Jinyoung smiles in satisfaction, not missing the way BamBam’s eyes flick to his lips. He returns to his original sitting posture, and BamBam almost immediately downs his drink. There’s a moment of silence, where Jinyoung and BamBam just sit there and look at each other, until BamBam finally reaches forward and interlaces his fingers with Jinyoung’s.

“Let’s get out of here, hyung.” Jinyoung’s eyes shift to look at BamBam’s hand holding his, feeling his heart warm. “Hyung?”

Jinyoung shakes his head to get out of his thoughts, smiling at BamBam. “Yeah. Where do you wanna go?” BamBam laughs.

“My place, you can meet my cats. I saw your son, let me show you mine,” BamBam jokes and Jinyoung snorts, bumping his broad shoulder into BamBam’s thinner one. The younger whines playfully, pinching Jinyoung with his free hand. “Hyung, stop playing around.” Jinyoung just laughs again, and BamBam doesn’t wait for a response, pulling Jinyoung out of the bar and down the street.

Apparently BamBam didn’t live far, his apartment building only a few blocks away. In the elevator, no words were exchanged. BamBam had pulled Jinyoung in by his neck and pressed a kiss to the older’s lips and the night had started.

Jinyoung’s free hand (the two hadn’t stopped holding hands) made its way to the small of BamBam’s back again, holding him close. BamBam’s lips were full and chapped, and Jinyoung couldn’t get enough of them. But the elevator dings, the doors open, and BamBam pulls away. Jinyoung pouts at the loss, but BamBam pays no heed, dragging Jinyoung down into his apartment.

The door bursts open and BamBam soon pins Jinyoung to the closed door behind him, mouth finding his. “Fuck– BamBam-” Jinyoung gasps out and BamBam laughs breathily. “Don’t worry, hyung, I’ll take care of you, you big baby.”

The words startle Jinyonug, and his eyes narrow, leaning forward and pressing his forehead against BamBam’s. “Hm. I think it’ll be the other way, BamBam-ah. Don’t forget, baby, I’m the hyung.” BamBam’s eyes light up with desire and Jinyoung’s hands travel down, ready for a busy night.

And it certainly was busy. When Jinyoung woke up in BamBam’s apartment the next day, his head hurt like hell. He didn’t really know why, but it probably had something to do with how he kept accidentally knocking his head against the headboard, and possibly how he and BamBam drank even more right before heading to bed for one last round before falling asleep.

Now that he thinks about it, his everything hurts. His legs hurt, his arms hurt, his head hurts, and his dick and ass definitely hurts. But his heart is warm, and his body is warm as well, thanks to BamBam curling around Jinyoung’s waist and burying his head in Jinyoung’s shoulder. Jinyoung’s arm is trapped under BamBam’s shoulders, which may be part of the reason it aches, but he doesn’t really mind. Especially after last night.

Jinyoung can’t help himself, tilting his head and pressing a kiss to BamBam’s temple. He’s grown fond of the younger man. When they weren’t fucking, BamBam was always friendly and funny, and liked to play cards and watch dramas which Jinyoung appreciated. And his cats were adorable.

One, Jinyoung thinks is King, was curled up at the foot of the bed. Jinyoung doesn’t quite know how it got in, but he doesn’t mind, making soft noises to draw the cat over. King doesn’t care at first, but after a few minutes he wanders over, settling on Jinyoung’s chest like he owns it. The weight is comforting, and Jinyoung could almost fall asleep again.

However, before he can, BamBam stirs and yawns, eyes flickering open, his eyelashes tickling Jinyoung’s shoulder. Jinyoung giggles at the sensation, and BamBam smiles lazily up at Jinyoung. “Morning, hyung,” he says, breath ghosting over Jinyoung’s collarbone, eyes still trained on the older.

“Good morning, BamBam,” Jinyoung responds, smiling back and leaning down the best he can to press another kiss to BamBam’s forehead. “Did you sleep well?” BamBam laughs, rough and low in his throat.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that, hyung? After all, you’re my guest.” Jinyoung just laughs, and King presses a paw into his cheek in retaliation at the movement. BamBam snickers. “It seems like you’re stuck in my bed for the time being. Do you want me to get King off or would you like to be served breakfast in bed?”

Jinyoung snorts again, and King, annoyed enough, just retreats to the windowsill, where the sunlight is just as warm as Jinyoung’s chest. “Well, there’s my answer.” BamBam snorts, wrapping his hand loosely around Jinyoung’s wrist. He brings the elder's hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it softly.

Jinyoung can feel the warmth bloom in his chest again, and BamBam rolls his eyes endearingly before hopping out of bed. He only was able to take a few steps, however, his knees buckled and down went BamBam like a sack of potatoes.

Jinyoung leaned over the edge of the bed and laughed. “Having some trouble there, Bam-ah?” BamBam glared at Jinyoung, pulling himself up with the edge of the bedframe and shaky legs.

“Fuck you,” he says with no bite at all, and Jinyoung laughs again.

“I mean, we went at it for almost the whole day, even over your kitchen counter. But if you want…” he trails off and winks, and BamBam looks disgusted but with a twinkle in his eyes.

He leans closer, nose brushing against Jinyoung’s. “Well, hyung, I distinctly remember, on the sofa, you crying because I just wouldn’t let you-” Jinyoung cuts him off with a hand over BamBam’s mouth.

“Okay, you made your point, BamBam-ah. We get it, you fuck just as hard as I do.” BamBam cackles again, not unlike a crow, and Jinyoung can’t help but let a smile tug at his lips. “Let’s just go make breakfast. Jesus.”

Jinyoung manages to stay upright, and BamBam is slightly miffed about it, but it doesn’t mean his legs don’t hurt all the same. Jinyoung can feel his leg muscles screaming at him in agony. They make it to the kitchen aching and giggly, and BamBam crinkles his nose in disgust at the mess on it. “Gross. I forgot we didn’t clean up.”

Jinyoung snorts. “I’ll wipe the counter, you can start breakfast. Sounds good?” BamBam nods, still shaking his head in disappointment. “Why are you so unhappy at the state of your kitchen, Bam? I mean, last night you seemed to enjoy being fucked to tears,” Jinyoung can’t help but tease BamBam back, and BamBam squawks again, smacking Jinyoung on his sweaty and sticky chest.

“Oh, my God, shut up hyung.”

There was no room for banter after that, BamBam had thrown a wad of baby wipes at Jinyoung’s face. While Jinyoung was wiping down every spot they had occupied last night, BamBam was busy frying some food and trying to ignore the look of Jinyoung’s ass as he was on his knees and wiping the floor.

They managed to get through the morning without any side excursions (though Jinyoung did suck off BamBam in the shower and vice versa), and Jinyoung was ready to make his way home when BamBam grabbed his arm.

“Hyung, can I have your number?” Jinyoung tries to keep his face from breaking out into a smile, but he can’t help himself.

“Yeah, sure.”

[neoarchipelago]

Lisbon Lights (part 6 ENDING) (John Wick x Assassin!reader)

A/N: There it is… The end of Lisbon nights. It was a great story to write.. I hope you guys enjoyed it, and i hope you enjoy this ending like I enjoyed writing it. 

Word count: 4285

Warnings: MATURE CONTENT. Curse words, mention of rape in a cynical joke. 

Walking out into the lobby, your high heels echoing through the beautiful room, your dress making heads turn, you checked your phone once more. John had ran off somewhere before dinner, claiming he had something to take care of. Such a busy man after all. You had taken time for yourself during that time, checking out some jobs you could take up to get your mind rid of the baba yaga. You had a few selected choices already and maybe you'd take up two or three.  You sighed looking around. Word had gotten around of your little adventure with John Wick and obviously you had turned into a small celebrity. For someone who had flourished in being hidden from everyone, well that had just drowned. 

You groaned and rolled your eyes, feeling uncomfortable with all the staring. 

But as quick as they had began they had stopped. Everyone looked away as you felt an arm rest around your waist. You smirked, looking up at John. He was frowning, eyeing people around the room. 

"You had to keep me waiting.." you said in playful tone. 

He glanced down at you, the ghost of a smirk on his lips, as you both started to walk out of the continental.

The drive to the restaurant was silent. Heavy. Lost in all of the things that should be said but couldn't possibly be heard. It was almost unfamiliar now. 

You smiled up at him as he opened the cab door and your arm slipped into his. Walking up to the receptionist you nodded. 

"Good evening Miss (y/l/n)." She voiced out in smile. "Allow me to walk you to your table" she added. 

As you followed her you noticed John's frown. You tried your best not to be thrown off by it. What could possibly be bothering him? Tonight. Of all nights. Walking up the staircase near the back of the restaurant, you were both finally facing your table, on a rooftop, alone. Yes. You had made it happen because why not. You said you'd make it special. John rose an eyebrow at you. Offering one of your best smirks you walked up to the table with him, and sat down. The waitress quickly gave you menus before walking back to the restaurant. 

"You made the rooftop of one of the most famous restaurants private?" John asked.

You looked up at him, your gaze melting into his. God you were gonna miss those eyes. 

"Is that a rhetorical question Mr Wick?" You mocked. 

You were answered with a perfect glare as you drove your eyes back into the menu. Wine. Yes. You were going to need it. 

Silence stagnated between you two for a long minute. Both staring at each other's menus not truly reading anything. You already knew what you wanted to order anyway. 

"Is this how we'll spend the night?" He worried. 

You dared to look up from your menu. 

"How?" You inquired. 

"In silence." He finished. 

Was it? You didn't know. There was many things you wanted to say. But you were too afraid to. You weren't even allowing yourself to. The waitress spawned back at your side without your notice, as you blinked a few times, processing her question. 'are you ready to order yet?'  You nodded absent-mindedly, ordering a bottle or Porto wine, and some appetizers. John placed his order as well and soon enough, you were both alone again. In an uncomfortable silence. You cleared your throat. 

"This is stupid. Have we got nothing to discuss on our last night?" You groaned. To be honest this whole nonsense was starting to be truly annoying. 

"Let's discuss the elephant in the room. Now. Before dinner starts." John hissed. 

You were ready to throw some sarcasm or snarky comment but your smirked vanished as John glared at you. You listened, not interrupting the man.

"I have a job in Russia. I'm leaving tomorrow morning." 

You swallowed dry, staring at him as coldly as you possibly could, throwing on a mask of impassibility. Yet you did not interrupt him. 

"It's a pretty big contract. Winston asked me personally to take care of it." 

You nodded. Not saying a word. The waitress came back, bottle of wine in hand and you thank the old Gods and the news ones for it. John looked even more annoyed, but as the gentleman that he is, he did not reprimanded the waitress for her intrusion.  You took a long sip of your wine before looking at John who seemed to have more things to say. He cleared his throat before taking a sip of his own cup. 

"Amalia said you'd been looking at contracts too." He added, not looking directly at you. 

How the hell did Amalia knew that you didn't know. But you cursed her for a second. 

"Yes I did." You simply stated. 

"Have you found anything yet?" He asked. 

"A few things have crossed my mind. Some look interesting. But I recently went from being a ghost to being known to everyone. It's not going to be easy." You confessed slightly frowning. 

He seemed to think about it for a second before nodding. 

"I enjoyed working with you." The sound of his voice made you almost choke on your drink that, as a matter of fact, you were downing way too fast for your own taste. "And spending time here." He concluded. 

You took a deep sigh before speaking, making sure your voice wouldn't shake. 

"It was a pleasure working with you Mr Wick." You assured very formally. Looking at his dark gaze.  

Suddenly he stood up, and the quick movement almost made you jump. You frowned in your corner as he walked to railing, looking over at the city. You didn't added anything. Was he angry at you? What did he expect? You couldn't possibly start begging him to stay. This was no life for the two of you. You couldn't just spend the rest of your days wondering about Lisbon, holding each other's hand. The underground world would never allow that anyway. John was too precious to them.

Leaning back on your seat you folded your arms across your chest. This wasn't exactly how you pictured your last diner. The tension was making you shiver. Or maybe was it the fresh air? He stood for a moment, his back turned to you as you finished your cup, and served yourself another one. 

You closed your eyes and sighed as you rose your cup to your lips, never tasting the liquid, before putting it down again. Tonight was no night for pride. For the love of whatever fucking God wanted to listen tonight, you decided that just this once. There would be no pride. 

"John…" you breathe out, letting your emotions slip through your tone. 

You could have sworn you'd seen him shiver but again, you were sipping your wine way too fast. He turned to you but did not move. You sighed once more, defeated more than annoyed, as you stood from your seat and walked up to him. You looked down at large hands on the railing, not wanting to look at him. His stare on you was destabilizing enough. 

"Listen…" you started, with very little confidence. "Things, aren't exactly easy between us." You heard him chuckle darkly. "Look. I don't know what to tell you. I don't know what you expect from me." You finally confessed looking at him with a confused look.  You realized how close you two were at the moment. Maybe too much. 

"Honesty." He dared. 

You sighed, looking at him, then at the city and back at him. 

"I'm not lying to you John." You tried.

"No. You're hiding behind your walls again. But not tonight. I'm not allowing you." He declared in a very low town that made you shiver. This time you were sure it wasn't the fresh air. What did he mean exactly by that? 

Taking your hand in his he walked you back to the table, this time, pulling your chair for you to sit and making sure to brush his hand over your shoulder as he walked back to his own seat. You were trying to hide your blush as best as you could.  The waitress  showed up again, plates in hand and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. 

Dinner finally started and you had both settled for some small talk. But you were sure you had awoken some kind of dark side in him, because his tone was more… threatening. His gaze felt dangerous, focused on you. And you shivered every time his deep voice purred. He was in the middle of a story of his talking about a contract, similar to the one he recently accepted, in Russia. You were suspended to his lips, listening to his every word and when he spoke a few words in Russian, his tongue rolling on the 'r' and his eyes staring directly at you. You felt your heart pound. And you got significantly hotter. And wetter. 

It suddenly hit you. He was hunting you down. 

He had no intention of hiding it, or letting you escape. His scrutinizing gaze was seeing right through you, he knew exactly what he was doing to you. The bastard. 

"You. Bastard." You let out through gritted teeth. 

Oh. He looked angry. And you felt even hotter. 

"Excuse me?" He asked in a very slow and low voice. 

You swallow hard for a second. 

"You're playing with me." You complained, trying to sound more angry than lost in his game.

"I'm not." He corrected. 

"Yes you are…" your voice broke. 

"I'm not." He repeated, taking a sip of his wine, looking directly at you through knitted eyebrows. 

"What are you doing then?" You doubted. 

"I'm making you mine." He clarified. 

The waitress ran in again and this time you wanted to strangle her. 

"Will you be having dessert?" She asked. 

"No." You quickly responded. 

"No, not here. We'll be checking out." John added. 

You gasped, sending him a glare that he royally ignored. John stood and you waited a second before mimicking him. You both walked back downstairs, paid for your dinner and walked out of the restaurant.

-----

You let your bag down on the table as you heard the door close behind you. The ride back to the continental had been unbearable. You both wanted to say so many things but not there. Not in the back of the cab. You could feel adrenaline rushing through you. It was like being caged with a wolf. And it was exciting. It was also confusing. It wasn't unlike John to act so focus. Determined. Dangerous. But you had only seen him act like this in action. He was soft. You knew that. You irritated him all the time but his soft side always melted to your childishness. You took a deep breath before turning to him. 

Falling into the abyss of his dark eyes once again. You held his gaze for a few seconds. You were trying to find your voice, the strength to speak to him. To be honest. He was scanning you, trying to read you. John stepped closer, and now only the small round table stood in between you two. And the only word that echoed through your brain was his. 'honesty'. And you spilled. 

"You saved my life. Twice." You started.

"I put you in danger in the first place." He debated.

"No. I jumped in the danger." You corrected. 

"Yes, you seem to do that quite often." He affirmed.

"And you seem to try to keep me from it a lot." You added.

"But apparently failing." He countered.

"You'll never succeed." You confessed.

Words weren't spoken coldly. But many feelings hid between your words. This was after all. As honest as you would be. It's not like he would go around, telling everyone.

"I.. you…" you tried.

"Have I left you speechless?" He tried to joke, with a soft smirk on his lips.

"Stop. Please." You let out a bit too quickly.

John lost his amusement.

"Let me do this. Don't interrupt me. Let me… let it out." You explained, frowning a bit. "I don't do this." And his face sunk a bit. "I'm not, someone who loves. I don't get attached, you are right. I play with people. I trick them, and I kill them." The more you spoke, the more John seemed disappointed and angry. "And honestly, I can't tell you I haven't been… physically attracted… to you. Since the beginning." You felt your check heat up for a second, remembering his broad chest, his strong back, and how it had felt to sleep into his arms. 

John spun around, letting his hand run through his hair, turning his back on you. 

"I am reckless, careless. I run blindly into danger. You'll never be able to protect me. I'm a brat. And I like it." You continued. "I'm not easy. Never will be." 

He looked back at you, now a deep frown on his features as he was ready to interrupt you.

"But I don't want you to leave." You finished in a small whine. 

John eyes widened in surprise and his angry frown turned into a confused one. You felt tiny in front of him and you were glad the small table separated you both. 

"Because… I really enjoyed working with you. And spending time with you. And messing with you." 

He glared at you as you smirked a bit. 

"I loved being your fucking tour guide mister wick." You let out in almost a whisper. Eyes melting into his as his expression finally soften. 

"You said you'd make me yours… why? What did you mean?" You asked. This time, asking for his honesty.

"Let's say.. I got a bit too attached to a certain brat. She makes me absolutely furious. She never listens. She… runs her mouth a lot." He started.

You could feel yourself wanting to throw him some snarky comment but you simply rolled your eyes. 

"But she's also sweet. Funny. Cheerful. She seems to like to touch my tattoos." He said with a knowing glare.

You looked away blushing remembering certain events.

"She's pretty bad ass too. And I might have gotten attached to her a bit too much…" he finished.

You watched him, as he reached for the inner pocket of his suit jacket. Your eyes widened as he let two plane tickets fall on the table. You read the destination. 'Moscow' on them. 

"And I think we make a great team. I don't want to leave her behind. I just hope she'll say yes." He somehow asked, looking at you hopefully. 

You stood there in shock. Your gaze flying in between the tickets and his face several times. He was asking you to become his partner? To go with him to Russia and work on the contract? Together?

Not truly knowing how to answer, you simply walked over to him, jumping into his arms, taking him a back for a second. 

"Is that a yes..?" He asked, uncertain.

You chuckled, bidding your face in his neck, feeling his arms around your waist. You stood for a moment like this, soothing each other, the tension of the stressful moment now finally vanishing. Slightly pulling away to look at him, he asked again.

"So is that a yes?" 

You nodded away, a soft smile on your lips. Maybe was it the moment, the closeness of each other. The honesty you both had been through. But you wanted to kiss him. You wanted to feel his lips on yours. But you were too unsure of how he would react. You couldn't do it. It didn't matter after all, because that man could read you like a book. He didn't wait for a second before letting his lips crash on yours. And you didn't push him away. 

His kiss was soft. Hot. His hands on your lower back as you let yourself melt into his touch. Your hands resting on his chest, slowly caressing through his shirt. His beautiful, yet very annoying shirt. You slightly tugged on it, making John chuckle against your mouth, breaking the kiss.

"You are so impatient, aren't you?" His whispered lowly at you. 

"You already know that… don't play with me.." you tried to voice out. "Pretty please?" You added for good measure. 

God. He actually managed it. He turned you into his kitten. Frankly? Who cared? As he lifted you up into his arms and walked into the bedroom, you were pretty glad of the outcome of it all. Glad you had let him through your walls. Glad you had met. He softly let you drop on the bed, as you captured his lips once more. His took off his jacket as you tugged on his tie and buttons. Your heart was pounding in your ears and it felt like the temperature of the room had dangerously risen. You felt his large hands over your shoulder, making the straps of your silk dress fall off. His touch was electric, leaving goosebumps on his trail. His tongue danced with yours and you could swear he was making you dizzy. You let a small loan escape you as John's shirt was finally off and you could finally let your hands roam the warm skin of his back. 

His lips left yours to plant kisses on your jawline, making his way slowly to your neck, where he softly bit the soft skin. You moaned again, one of your hands getting lost in his hair, as you could feel his hands pulling on the silky fabric of your dress. John suddenly stopped, pulling away a small frown on his face. You supposed that the fact that you weren't wearing any underwear under your beautiful dress might have taken him aback. You smirked devilishly, biting your lip softly as John groaned at you. That simple sound was enough to make you wetter, his lustful gaze burning you.

Finally pulling away the dress and letting it drop somewhere on the floor, you started undoing the buckle of his belt. As you sat on the edge of the bed, and John stood in front of you, you let yourself go to your every desire. Without taking your eyes away from his as he looked down at you, his hand in your hair, you opened up his belt in a teasingly slow movement. You couldn't keep yourself from wanting to place kisses all over his lower abs, leaving a very slow trail of kisses, as you pulled the zipper of his pants down. You heard his breath hitch and the hold on your hair got tighter. You pulled his pants down but left his boxers on, wanting to tease him even more. This time you kissed his already hard cock through the fabric and his hand joined the other in your hair. 

You wondered how long could you play with him for until he completely lost it with you? You were going to find out. You smirked to yourself as you finally pulled his boxers down, letting his erection spring free. You let the tip of your tongue lick the tip of his cock as you stared at him. The way his jaw clenched sent a heat wave through your body. To be honest, all this teasing was just as agonizing for you as well. But you knew it would be worth it. This time you licked your way from the base to the tip, finally letting your lips wrap around him, and your heard him sigh, his grip on your hair making you moan in the process. 

Bopping your head up and down very slowly, making sure to take more and more of him each time, you were growing wetter and more impatient with every sigh and groan that escaped him. The way he pulled on your hair was growing impatient as well. Quickening the pace just a tiny bit, letting on of your hands rest on his hip and the other a the base of his dick this time you knew were almost there. 

"(Y/n)..." He threatened.

You knew he didn't want to cum right now, not like this, and he was almost there. Sucking one last time on it, you finally made him snap. 

"That's enough." He spoke lowly. 

You let go of his member, a small thread of saliva dripping, and an innocent look on your face, which only seem to turn him on even more. One of his hands left your hair to wrap itself around your neck as he captured your lips roughly. You moaned against his mouth, letting him do whatever he wanted, at this point, you really didn't care. Making you lay back on the bed, he placed himself on top of you. Without ever breaking the kiss you felt his hand leave your neck to cup your breast. You moaned again, arching yourself into his touch. His thumb played around with your hard nipple, pinching and caressing it, making you moan and crave him more and more. Your rolled your hips, trying to get some kind of friction, but his hand left your breast to hold onto your hips and keep you in place, as he let a small chuckle escape his lips. 

“You can’t wait, can you?” he whispered as he broke the kiss. 

You shook your head, unable to form proper words to answer his, obviously, rhetorical question. Maybe was it the look on your face, or the way you softly bit your lip but John’s eyes grew darker. John captured your lips once more and let his hand travel in between your legs. He groaned against your lips, you had been waiting for this and you couldn’t deny how wet you were. You pressed yourself against his hand, with a needy moan. Finally John looked at you. 

“Are you sure about this?” He inquired. 

“Oh my GOD, Wick if you don’t fuck me I’m gonna rape you.” You groaned faking annoyance. 

John lifted an eyebrow before smirking at you. You felt his cock at your entrance and an delightful shiver ran down your spine. As he slowly entered you, you let your head fall back on the mattress, eyes closed, with the longest hottest moan John ever heard. When he finally filled you up completely you could feel how big he was. John lowered himself to your ear and whispered darkly. 

“That. Was so hot. You should have seen your face.” He pulled himself out just as slowly, owning another long moan from you. “That’s almost pornographic darling.” He added as he slid right back in at an agonizing slow pace. 

“John please…” You tried to beg. 

But he kept his slow pace, as he bit and sucked at your neck. 

“I want to take this slow love…” He confessed. 

You couldn’t deny feeling your heart jump at his words. It was sweet. Passionate. God the man was driving you mad. 

“I’m not going anywhere…” You tried to debate through moans, letting your arms embrace him, your hands getting lost in his hair, as he kept sliding in and out. “You’ll have me again and again.” You Whined, trying to roll your hips. 

“Is that a promise?” He asked, with a harder thrust, making you gasp and take a few seconds before answering. 

“It’s your fucking curse from now on John…” you smirked at him. 

He finally quickened his pace, and you were whining and moaning endlessly. His hand holding your wrists above you head, and his hips slapping against yours. You had maybe overestimated yourself, he was good, he was amazing, and for as much as you fought it, you could feel yourself reaching your end dangerously. John felt it too, the way your pussy clenched around him made him curse and honestly you were way too deep into this to even bother about performance. Or maybe, he was the one too deep. As his thrusts became more and more erratic you arched your back. 

“J-John…” You sobbed. 

He didn’t need more words, the look on your face said it all. You could feel the way your orgasm was building up to reach its peak and as you tried your best to breath in through your moans and sobs, you finally felt yourself come undone, in silent moan. Your body shuddered underneath John and you would have seen how he closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of your pussy pulsing around his hard cock, if you wouldn’t have been too far gone. His thrusts became more sloppy and his orgasm hit not long after, as he bucked his hips one last time before spilling himself deep inside. You heard him grunt, somehow it seemed far away. 

The world was gone. He lowered himself as let his forehead rest on yours for a second before pulling back. When you opened your eyes, you lost your breath. His dark eyes were gazing right at you, and his hair fell like waves around his face. He was breathing hard, and in the darkness of the room, you could see a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. His face and body were only lit up by the light coming from the window. The way the Lisbon lights lit him up made your heart jump once more and this time you were sure. This feeling you had been avoiding, this irresistible curse you had put on yourself. It was love. 

“Are you alright?” His question was like a fresh breeze in the summer. Or like the smell of rain in the high mountains. The answer was… Vivid. 

“Now yes…” 

----

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[kalimagik]

Trouble in Paradise 

(Pt. 3)

Tom Holland x Reader x Harrison Osterfield

Word Count: ~3,500

Warnings: some language 

A/N: Here is the last part of Trouble in Paradise for my 100 followers celebration weekend! And the last fic of the weekend! I hope y’all enjoy reading it! I did rewrite it at 1 AM this morning...oops! The other parts are linked below if you are behind at all, so it’s super easy to catch up! I plan on getting some other works out in the next week, most likely Harry Potter related, so who do you guys want to see? and are we feeling fluff, angst, pining? what are we thinking, please let me know! Happy Reading <3<3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Nearly two days passed since Jamie had exploded and left the house. That meant that it had been two days since Y/N learned that both Tom and Harrison were both in love with her. Not to mention, both boys knew that she had all the information and she still hadn’t made a choice.

The tension sat like fog and was so, so heavy, but no one dared to say a word. The three tried to act as normal as possible and pretend that no one had said anything. Nevertheless, any bystander could look at the trio and know that something was going on. Tom stood rigidly anytime Harrison’s arm brushed Y/N’s body. He could also see the blush rise in her cheeks whenever it happened. 

Y/N had never rambled so much in her life. She felt as though she had to keep saying words in order to mask the deafening silences that would fall over them. The glances that Tom and Harrison would dare to take in her direction burned into the side of her head as she refused to look at either of them for too long if she could help it. 

Harrison tried to back off as much as he could. He never went anywhere with just Y/N, as much as he really wanted too. He missed having her all to himself during those days when Jamie was around. She was being herself with him. She was relaxed and laughing, now she was anxious and Harrison could feel it.  

Two days had passed and Y/N had never missed “normalcy” so much in her entire life. She had said goodnight to the boys, letting them go into a room together while she retreated to her own sanctuary. She had every intention of going to sleep, but now she tossed and turned. 

 Harrison wound up back in Tom’s room with Jamie gone. No reason for him to share with Y/N when his old bed was available again. Unfortunately for Y/N, she had gotten used to sharing the room with Harrison. He’d slept on the floor, but having someone in there to talk to deep into the night had been a nice addition to the trip. It made Y/N feel like she was at university in England again when they were all still getting to know each other. 

 The numbers on the clock next to her bed changed from 1:29 to 1:30 and sleep didn’t feel any closer. Maybe she should just go wander the house or the beach so she didn’t wake anyone up. Deciding that the second option was the best, Y/N pushed back her covers and grabbed a sweatshirt. 

 She tiptoed to her door, trying not to make any noise as the door’s hinges opened slowly. Earlier in the week, she realized that the door squeaked when she snuck down for a midnight snack and woke Harrison up. 

 “Woah!” Y/N jumped. Speak of the devil. She came face to face the blond himself. Harrison stood outside her door with a pillow under his arm. 

 “What are you doing here?” she whispered, trying her best not to wake the entire house up. 

 “Tom.” Harrison said with almost no explanation.

 Y/N just raised her eyebrow at him, hoping that he would continue. When he didn’t, she was forced to ask. “What is he doing? Snoring or something?” 

 “Actually, he’s been on the phone with Jamie for the last hour.” 

 “Jamie?” Y/N felt her heart begin to race. No, she hadn’t told Tom that she wanted to be with him or anything, but that didn’t mean she could come back into the picture. 

 “She called him nearly two hours ago and I haven’t been able to fall asleep. I tried watching Netflix, but it didn’t drown out his groans and his eye rolls were extremely evident over the top of my screen,” Harrison chuckled. “Soooo, would you mind if I crashed on the floor?” he finally got out. 

 Y/N paused. She was going to go for a walk, but maybe having Harrison in the room would help her sleep. She’d slept like a baby before he moved back in with Tom.

 “I can go to the couch…” Haz started.

 “No!” Y/N said a little to loudly. “I mean, of course you can stay in here.” She whispered again. She opened the door wider so that he could slip inside. He started to place blankets and a pillow on the floor and laid down on top of his makeshift bed. 

 “You can have the bed if you want,” Y/N offered. The poor boy had already slept on an air mattress for most of the week. 

 “No, I’m totally fine down here!” Harrison assured her. Y/N inhaled deeply as she slid back under the covers that she had pushed back just moments ago. So much for that walk. 

 15 minutes had passed and Y/N still couldn’t fall asleep. There was a thickness in the air that she couldn’t get past. Harrison was also adjusting every other minute. Letting out a deep breath, Y/N sat up in her bed. “Haz, you should really just sleep up here. It’s fine, really.” 

 Harrison’s head popped off of his pillow. “Are you sure?” he questioned. Y/N couldn’t see his face well in the darkness, but she could feel the look he was giving her. It was so unsure, but hopeful. She knew his icy eyes were checking over and over to make sure that she was positive that she wanted him up there. 

 “Yes. I’m not going to be able to sleep if you can’t. It’s a curse.” 

 At that moment, the two heard a shout come from the direction of Tom and Harrison’s room. Y/N couldn’t keep herself from looking in that direction. “From the sounds of it, you won’t get any sleep if you go back there either. So, common.”

 Harrison silently got off the floor as Y/N slid over in the bed to make room for him. They took a moment adjusting to get ‘comfortable.’ Y/N knew she wouldn’t be able to though if they laid there trying not to remotely touch each other. There was this line in the middle of the bed that neither one could cross. Y/N could hear every one of Harrison’s shallow breaths. He had to be just as uncomfortable as she was, right? 

 Harrison on the other hand couldn’t stop glancing at the stiff figure that was lying next to him. He tried his best not to move his head, but in order to see her properly, he had too. He knew that line existed. Tom was his best friend. But, the girl next to him was something amazing. Damn the line, he had to talk to her. 

 Y/N heard him rustle and turned to meet those deep blue eyes that bore into her soul. “What are you looking at?” she managed to whisper. 

 “You can relax, you know. I’m not going to try anything. You can trust me.” 

 She felt him turn on his side, so his body was completely facing hers. The sudden closeness made her breath hitch. Y/N bit her lip, not sure what was coming next, but feeling his body next to hers felt right. It felt like home in some way. 

 “Y/N?” Harrison’s hand slid to touch her fingers. There was definitely a spark. 

 “Haz?” 

 “I do love you…” His words seemed to hang in the air as she processed. “You don’t have to say anything,” he quickly added. “I know you haven’t made a decision yet, but I want you to know that I’ll be here no matter what you choose.” 

 “Thank you, Harrison,” was all she could muster-up. Her words sounded calm, but her heart was racing faster than it ever had. Between the closeness, the silence, and the confusing feelings, Y/N was at a loss for words. 

 With the knowledge that Harrison would always be there, Y/N finally let herself relax. Harrison’s hand slid up her arm and it was such a calming presence. Y/N felt herself leaning into him and finally allowed sleep to take over. 

_________________________________________________________________

The sun shined through the curtains, the waves crashed against the shore, and Y/N hadn’t woken up feeling so rested in such a long time. She attempted to stretch her arms out, but found herself restricted. Opening her eyes, Y/N saw the peaceful face of a sleeping Harrison. He was beautiful. She, however, was restricted because Harrison had pulled her closer to him during the night. 

Now she was in a difficult position. Does she lay there and wait for him to wake up or sneak out of the room. He’d see her downstairs right? Knowing that the second option, once again, was the easiest, Y/N slowly moved out of Harrison’s grip. When she was free, she felt cold immediately. Had he really been keeping her that warm? 

She peaked at his slumbering form in the bed once more before slipping out the door and heading downstairs. She could hear dishes clinking and soft conversations. 

“Good morning,” she rubbed her eyes as she greeted the Hollands that were in the kitchen. 

“Morning, Y/N!” Nikki smiled. “Would you like some tea?” 

“Yes, please! I can help you,” she offered. 

No need!” 

Y/N sat at the island, sipped her tea, and made casual conversation as Nikki prepared some breakfast for her. That was until her voice caught in her throat the moment Tom entered. The boy’s white t-shirt stuck to his glistening skin. He must just be getting back from a run. His abs were outlined by the fabric. Y/N would have choked on her tea if she had been drinking it at that moment. 

“Hey, Y/N/N,” the boy grinned. He had to know how he looked. “You slept in today.” 

“Yeah, took me a while to get to sleep.” she explained. Before Tom could come up with some sort of witty response, a tired looking Harrison walked into the kitchen. 

“Where did you go last night?” Tom asked immediately. Y/N felt her eyes widen uncontrollably. She loved having Harrison in the room with her last night, but she didn’t know if she wanted the whole Holland family to know that. 

“Couldn’t sleep while you were on the phone with Jamie,” Harrison spit back quickly. 

“You talked to Jamie last night?” Sam’s voice popped into the conversation, but was quickly ignored by Tom. 

“Where did you sleep though? I was up at 7 and the couch down here was empty.” 

Y/N watched the conversation unfold and saw as Harrison’s eyes shifted to her quickly and then back to Tom. What she didn’t notice was how Tom saw the look too. He knew where Harrison went and it made him jealous. He felt the envy boiling up inside of him, but he refused to let it show. But, based on the way that Y/N looked down quickly, he could tell that nothing too serious had happened between them. He still had a chance. 

“What are you all going to do in our last few days?” Dom’s voice interrupted the questioning. 

“Sam and I were going to learn how to surf,” Harry spoke up, taking the attention from what seemed to be a staring- glaring contest between Haz and Tom. 

“We wanted to see if these two divs would join us,” Sam added as he pointed to the two best friends. 

“Sure, I’ll go.” Harrison decided quickly, not breaking eye contact with Tom. 

“Tom?” Harry pushed. 

Tom was the one to look away when he shifted his attention to Y/N. “I think I’ll stay back. I want to enjoy the beach a bit.” 

“Okay, whatever,” Harry shrugged as he stood up from the table. “Haz, we’re leaving in 15 minutes, so hurry up.” 

Harrison looked between Tom and Y/N, now regretting the fact that he agreed to go to this lesson. “We’ll be here when you’re done,” Y/N smiled encouragingly at him. “You should go have some fun. This is something you said you wanted to do before we even got here.” 

Tight lipped, Harrison nodded curtly as he took a cup of coffee and a banana with him and left the room. The moment he was out of the room, Tom turned to Y/N. 

“What do you want to do today?” he asked politely. 

Harrison was still in the back of her mind, but she hadn’t had a chance to spend much time with just Tom at all during the trip, so a little activity couldn’t be bad, right? 

“Well, I saw somewhere that there is snorkeling in the small reef near the house. We could do that, if you want?” 

“Sounds excellent,” Tom grinned as he downed water and turned to leave so he could shower. “See you in 20 minutes?” 

Y/N nodded and made sure to finish her breakfast before going to get ready herself. 

Snorkeling was fun. Tom paid for the underwater photographs which meant that there was plenty of evidence that the two of them had actually had fun together. But, snorkeling only lasted so long. Soon enough Tom and Y/N were walking on the beach towards the house. Neither one had spoken about the whole love triangle situation, but Tom couldn’t hold his tongue much longer. He didn’t want to press, but he was curious. 

“So, how are you doing?” 

“I’m good?” Y/N elongated her words. What was he going on about? “How are you?” 

“Fine. Tired today…” 

“Oh yeah, Harrison said that you talk to Jamie-” Y/N quickly shut her mouth. When else would Harrison have told her about Tom’s phone call with Jamie. She’d only seen him for a few minutes this morning as far as everyone else knew. 

“That was nothing. She was trying to apologize. I didn’t really want to hear it though.” Tom had caught her slip up, but chose not to say anything. If he was going to make a move, Tom didn’t want Y/N to be thinking about Harrison. Little did he know, but the boy had been in the back of her mind all afternoon.

“That’s good,” Y/N replied nonchalantly. She wasn’t really wanting to hear the details of the phone call that resulted in Tom raising his voice. 

“Y/N?” Tom stopped in the middle of the sand. Their resort house was within sight, but Tom couldn’t go any further before he told her what he was thinking. Y/N took a few more steps before she even realized that Tom wasn’t next to her. 

“What’s up, Tom?” 

The words came tumbling out of Tom’s mouth. “I need to know what you’re thinking. It’s killing me not knowing.” 

Y/N’s jaw slackened. Her heart may or may not have skipped a beat, but was it because Tom still wanted her and she was happy or was it because she didn’t want to have this conversation with him because she didn’t want to make a hard decision. 

“You have to have some idea,” he pushed more. “I may have been an idiot before, but I’m not going to go down without fighting for you. Not this time.” 

The lump in Y/N’s throat seemed to grow. She couldn’t swallow it as the curly haired boy in front of her continued talking and walking towards her. “I love you, Y/N. I have for a while. I was just too stupid to see it.” Tom was towering over her now. She could feel his breath on her face and his cologne overwhelmed her senses. 

This was the boy that she had been pining over for years now. He was spilling his heart out to her. It was everything she imagined. Tom seemed to be moving closer slowly. A small part of her wanted to stay and entertain this possibility, but another part, a larger part, wanted to run far away and into the arms that held her so tightly the previous night. 

“Tom?! Y/N?!” Sam’s voice echoed over the crashing waves. 

Y/N ripped herself away from Tom and Tom could feel the anger rising. The anger at Sam for ruining this moment, for ruining his chance. 

“You guys- you guys have to come quickly.” Sam was panting as he came to a stop in front of the pair that now had a few feet between them. Y/N had jumped back that far. 

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked, waiting for the boy to say what was going on. 

“It’s Haz…” Sam panted out. “He was surfing and hit his head.” 

Y/N whipped her head around to look at Tom. Her eyes grew as she heard the news. They also looked apologetic. Tom knew right then that she had made her decision. She loved Harrison. She wanted to go to him now and didn’t care if she was ruining the moment that Tom thought they were having. Her eyes told Tom everything he needed to know. 

“Go to him,” Tom told her confidently. As Tom watched her run after Sam, he felt disappointed that he hadn’t chosen him, but she did deserve to be with someone who chose her first every time. That someone was Harrison and deep down, Tom knew that. 

______________________________________________________________________________

“Where is he, Sam?” Y/N asked as they approached where the boys had been surfing. 

“On the shore near the clump of trees.” Sam pointed. Y/N left him behind. He had run to find her and Tom and running all the way back had taken it out of him. 

An ambulance was pulling up as Y/N reached Harry and Harrison. The blond was laying flat on his back with Harry leaving over him. 

“Is- is he okay?” Y/N stumbled over her words. Panic was taking over as he laid there motionless in front of her. 

“I don’t know. He’s breathing and came to before going unconscious again.” Harry explained. 

The medics approached and asked Y/N and Harry to step aside so that they could attend to Harrison. While they worked, Y/N watched nervously. Her fingernails were destroyed from chewing them as she stood to the side, not being able to do anything. 

“Excuse me?” she finally spoke as a medic walked by. “Is he going to be alright?” Her breathing was uneven, but she couldn’t manage to control it. 

“His vitals are normal and there are no serious injuries. He won’t have to go to the hospital,” the medic informed her. Y/N nodded as she looked past the medic at Harrison. Blocking out all the noise, Y/N focused her attention on Harrison. The moment he moved, she ran to him, despite the medics still attending to him. 

“Haz? Haz? You awake?” she felt the tears begin to swell in her eyes. 

“Hey, love,” he smiled as he opened his eyes to see her leaning over him. 

“Oh my god, Harrison. How do you feel?” she urged. 

“A little sore,” he admitted, “but I’ll be fine.” 

Y/N gently took his face in her hands. It was as if he were a delicate flower. The worry was etched across her face. 

“It’s good to see you too,” he chuckled. 

“You scared me,” Y/N whispered, still holding him. “I thought- I thought that I might lose you.” She spoke as if they were the only two people in the world. No one could penetrate their circle. Even the medics had stepped back after determining that Haz would be fine. 

“You don’t have to worry about me, love. I always manage to bounce back.” Harrison groaned as he attempted to sit up, rubbing his forehead. 

“I’m serious, Haz.” Y/N’s eyes watched his every movement intently. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.” 

“What are you saying there, Y/N?” Harrison’s blue eyes sparkled. 

“I’m saying I love you! Now stop making a joke about this. It could have been worse!” Y/N’s eyes were darting as she studied every inch of Harrison’s face. 

“I love you too, Y/N,” Harrison smiled softly. Y/N’s eyes softened when she realized what had just happened. Deep inside, she always knew it was Harrison. He was her home when she was far away from her family. 

“It is you, Haz. It’s always been you. I’m sorry I ever made you wait and feel like you couldn’t tell me. I’m sorry-” 

Y/N’s apologies were cut short by Harrison’s lips connecting to her own. Every feeling he had ever felt for her was poured into this kiss. 

When they finally pulled apart, Harrison’s smile was so wide his cheeks would definitely hurt if he kept it up. “Remind me why it took so long for us to do that?” Y/N exhaled, breathlessly. 

“I was just wondering the same thing,” Harrison chuckled, placing one of his hands on the side of Y/N’s face. “Maybe we should do it again,” he winked. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh into the kiss as Harrison pulled her towards him once again, just the second of many kisses to follow for the happy, new couple.

-

-

A/N: I know that if someone had a head injury, they’d definitely have to go to the hospital. But for the purposes of the flow here, it just is all okay and dandy...alright?

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