#and she had the AUDACITY to say that?????

[jungkoode]

𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐄 𝐔𝐏 | 09

˗ˏˋ rules ˎˊ˗

"Rules are funny things. You make them thinking they'll keep you safe, keep everything contained. But sometimes the person you're really trying to protect yourself from… is you"

next | index

⋆｡°✩ chapter details ✩°｡⋆

word count: 6.5k

content: candle shop shenanigans, friend group dynamics, rules and boundaries

✧ author's note ✧

OKAY FIRST OF ALL—who absolutely LOVES Yeji? Because ME. The way she clocked Jungkook within seconds and had NO filter??? Like, I'm obsessed. Mans was genuinely SHOCKED that someone told him to sit his ass down. The audacity of this woman to not immediately melt under his smirky, tattooed menace energy?? I respect her so much. A feminist icon, if you will.

And IRYA. Ughhh, my precious girlie. The way she’s just casually vibing with Jungkook? Like?? They are NOTHING alike, and yet she’s over here just mingling with him, being friendly, unbothered, meanwhile Yeji is foaming at the mouth in the background. I love that contrast so much. It’s like, she doesn’t see him as a threat, just another guy in the room, which makes Jungkook (who is used to either being hated or obsessed over) lowkey confused. You can see the gears turning in his head like “Wait. Why aren’t you scared of me. Or pissed at me. Or flirting with me.” HAHAH POOR BOY.

And let’s talk about Jimin, because HELLO, my quiet support KING. He’s not even saying much in this chapter, but he’s there, next to Y/N, just in case. That kind of silent loyalty? The “I know you can handle yourself, but if you need me, I’m already here” type of presence??? I eat that up every time. Their friend group is everything to me.

Speaking of menace behavior—Jungkook. Are we surprised? He’s so unserious about everything. I loved giving him Kuko as a contact name for Y/N because in every fic, it’s always Kook or Kookie or Koo and I just—I wanted something different. Something slightly sharp and weird. Like, why does it sound like a pet name and an insult at the same time 😭😭 It’s PERFECT for their dynamic.

And finally, Y/N. My messy, mouthy, disaster baby. She is THEE representation of someone who’s barely entered adulthood, fresh into uni, kind of immature, kind of figuring it out, but loud as hell about it. Like, I KNOW some of y’all are probably reading this chapter thinking “girl, seriously??” but THAT'S THE POINT. She’s got so much personality, she’s a walking contradiction, she’s flawed, but she’s HER. I love her for it.

I also stuffed this chapter with SO many Easter eggs. Like, the foreshadowing is right there at the end, but I know y’all aren’t catching everything yet. You’ll come back later, reread it, and be like “OH MY GOD, KIKI???” And I’ll just be sitting here like 😌✌️ I love when a plan comes together.

Anyway, here’s Chapter 9, babes. Enjoy the mess. I’m off to go prep for my therapist session because, let’s be real, I probably projected a little too hard in this one LMAO.

⋆｡°✩ read on ✩°｡⋆

ao3

wattpad

You don't know why you agreed to go shopping with Yeji. 

She texted at ass o'clock in the morning about "needing your expert opinion," and honestly? Your sleep-deprived brain just went sure, whatever without processing the implications. You just mentioned having to buy something for Emma — her birthday's in two weeks — and it was downhill from there.

"This place smells like a Pinterest board threw up," Yeji announces as you enter the third candle store of the day. Some fancy boutique with mason jars everywhere and prices that make you want to cry. "Who names a candle Whispers of Moonlight?"

"Someone getting paid way too much," you mutter, checking the price tag. Jesus. "Forty dollars for—is this supposed to smell like grass?"

"Rich people grass." Yeji picks up another one, face scrunching. "Autumn's Last Kiss. What does that even mean? Like, trees making out?"

"Pretty sure it's just pumpkin spice trying to be fancy."

"Capitalism is wild." She moves down the aisle, combat boots squeaking against the polished floor. "Oh shit, look at this one. Midnight Jasmine's Secret Rendezvous. That's not a candle, that's a Mills & Boon novel."

You snort, trailing after her. "Speaking of reading material—"

"We are not starting a book club book chat right now."

"I'm just saying, if you actually showed up to Victorian Lit—"

"And listen to Professor Stevens cream himself over Dickens for two hours? Pass." She picks up another candle, this one in black glass. "Dark Temptation. Bet you five bucks it smells like axe body spray."

She's not wrong. You wrinkle your nose as she waves it under your face. "Why does everything 'dark' and 'masculine' smell like a frat house?"

"Because the straights are not okay." Yeji sets it back, wiping her hands on her jeans like the scent might be contagious. "What did Emma say she likes again?"

"Anything except roses." You pause at a display of seasonal scents. "Her roommate burns those generic rose ones from the dollar store. Pretty sure she's traumatized."

"Valid." Yeji's already moved on to the next shelf, picking up random ones and reading their names in increasingly dramatic voices. "Summer's Sweet Embrace. Woodland Mystery. Oh my god, Bachelor's Button? What the fuck is a bachelor's button?"

"It's a flower," you say, distracted by a actually nice-looking sage and cedar one. Still overpriced, but... "My mom used to grow them."

"Sounds fake, but okay." 

She’s quiet for a second. Then:

"What about this one?" Yeji holds up a purple candle, squinting at the label. "Lavender Dreams. Sounds pretentious as fuck."

"Put that down before you break it," you mutter, scanning the shelves. The prices are criminal. “And aren't you supposed to be in Art History right now?"

"Professor Wang's doing that thing again where he talks about his divorce for two hours." She shrugs, setting the candle back with surprising care. "I've already heard all about Karen three times this semester."

You roll your eyes, picking up a sage-scented one. And no, you're not lingering in the candle section because you love them, okay? Emma likes candles too. It's completely reasonable research for a birthday gift. Nothing to do with how your apartment could use some—

"These are boring anyway," Yeji declares, already moving on. Her attention snaps to something across the street. Barnes & Noble, its windows displaying the latest bestsellers. 

"Wanna check out some books?" she asks, hands stuffed in the pockets of her worn-out grey zip-up. The one she definitely stole from Irya's closet.

"Since when do you read?" You snort, following her out of the candle store. Because you know damn well Yeji's idea of "reading" is skimming SparkNotes twenty minutes before class.

"Woah, judging a book by its cover?" She gestures to her whole aesthetic: combat boots, ripped jeans, that stolen sweater. "Just 'cause I look like this doesn't mean I don't read."

"You told me last week that Romeo and Juliet was, and I quote, 'straight people nonsense.'"

"It is straight people nonsense." She pushes open the bookstore's door, a blast of air conditioning hitting you. "But we need books for the club."

"You mean the chat group you named 'Fuck The Patriarchy Book Club' that's basically just for rambling and complaining?" Like how you ended up here today, victim to Yeji's class-skipping schemes. "That club?"

"Yeah?" She flashes that smile that you’re starting to associate with trouble. "C'mon, I need to check if they have Pride and Prejudice."

You trail after her into Fiction & Literature, past towering shelves and that distinct bookstore smell. "Pride and—hold up. Weren't you just shitting on romance classics?"

"Yeah, and?" She's already scanning the 'A' section with laser focus. "My girl wants to read it, so we're reading it."

"You're buying it because Irya mentioned it once in the group chat."

"And?" Yeji doesn't even pretend to deny it, moving purposefully through the aisles. "My girlfriend has taste. Unlike some people who waste their time reading..." she picks up a random book, "The Art of Corporate Finance."

"That's not even—"

"Found it!" She pulls out a leather-bound edition, definitely not the cheapest version available. "Look at this fancy shit. Irya's gonna love it."

You're about to point out how whipped she is when something catches your eye. A "Now Hiring" sign at the front counter, clean white letters against dark wood. Huh. You've been meaning to look for a job, something to get you out of the apartment more. And to help your finances. too. God knows you’d rather avoid having to ask mom and daddy for more money. 

"Earth to Y/N?" Yeji waves a hand in front of your face. "You good?"

"Yeah, just..." You gesture vaguely at the sign. 

Working at a bookstore wouldn't be the worst thing. Plus, employee discount.

"Oh shit, you should totally apply." She examines the sign with newfound interest. "Then you can hook me up with discounts on all the books Irya wants."

"I haven't even—"

"Excuse me?" she calls to a passing employee, ignoring your attempt to shut her up. "My friend here wants to apply for the job opening."

You're going to kill her. Slowly. With one of these hardcover books.

But the employee's already turning around—young guy, probably another student, name tag reading 'Mark'—and you can't exactly bolt without looking insane. Perfect. Just perfect.

"Oh, yeah?" Mark brightens. "We're actually pretty desperate for people who can work weekday afternoons. You have any retail experience?"

"I—"

"She's great with books," Yeji cuts in, because apparently she's your agent now. "Like, literally will fight someone over their trash literary takes. You should hear her rant about Hemingway."

You shoot her a death glare, but... well, she's not wrong about Hemingway.

"That's actually perfect," Mark says. "We get a lot of students asking for recommendations. Here—" He heads to the counter, returning with an application form. "You can fill this out now if you want. Manager's still here."

And somehow, because the universe hates you, you end up at one of the reading tables, filling out your work history while Yeji "helps" by suggesting you list your special skills as "roasting bad authors" and "setting pretentious men straight about their Joyce opinions."

Your phone buzzes. Group chat.

6B Hell

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜? 𝚆𝚎’𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚛𝚗

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚙𝚊𝚢𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙸 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞

Yoongs 🎧: 𝚆𝚎’𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝟷𝟻𝚝𝚑

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚝𝚑𝚡 𝚖𝚊𝚗

You're about to reply that you'll grab some later when another message pops up.

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚡 𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? 𝚞 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖

What the actual fuck?

You: 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜?

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚞𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚌 

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎 

You let out a disbelieving sound. Yeji, who's been "helping" by pointing out every minor spelling mistake in your application, peers over your shoulder.

"What's up?"

"My roommate being a jerk as usual." You know for a fact Jungkook's probably sprawled on the couch right now, doing fuck-all except maybe killing brain cells on his PlayStation. But sure, you should get the coffee.

You: 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚒’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎

You: 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘, 𝚒’𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚊𝚠 𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚡

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝?

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚙𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚠𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚒𝚖 𝚑𝚘𝚝 

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚜𝚎? 

Your fingers freeze over the keyboard. That asshole.

You: 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗? 

You: 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚡 

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚘𝚞𝚝…

You: 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚍𝚊𝚖𝚗 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢 

You: 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚞𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎?

Yoongs 🎧: 𝚈/𝙽.

Something about Yoongi’s message makes you pause. That's... weird. But before you can think about it:

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 :)

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚢𝚊 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠?

"I'm assuming he means video games," Yeji says, still reading. "Not the fun kind of grinding."

You elbow her in the ribs.

You: 𝚔 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝

You: 𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚘

You: 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚊𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎? :)

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙 𝚒𝚝, 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚗𝚊𝚑 𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚕 

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚡 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚒𝚡? ;) 

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜? 

+1 (917) XXX-XXXX: 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 :)

You're going to murder him. You're actually going to commit homicide, and Yoongi's going to have to find a new roommate, and you know what? He'll probably thank you.

You: 𝚛𝚘𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕

You: :)

"So," Yeji says as you aggressively save his number under 'Kuko🖕🏻', "this is fun."

"I hate him so much."

"Uh-huh." She glances at your phone, where he's still sending coffee emoji spam. "You know what this means though, right?"

"That I need better roommates?"

"That you're definitely getting this job." She taps the half-completed application. "Can't spend all your time at the apartment if you're working retail hours."

She... might have a point.

Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚘 

Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚟𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚜 𝚞 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚢 

Yoongs 🎧: 𝙸’𝚖 𝚖𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚝 

Yoongs 🎧: 𝚈/𝙽, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛. 𝚆𝚎,𝚕𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛.

Your phone buzzes again, but this time it's the other group chat. Thank fuck.

Fuck The Patriarchy Book Club 📚

Irya 🌸: 𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚜?

Irya 🌸: 𝚓𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚔𝚎𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗

Jin ☕️: 𝙲𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝.

Jin ☕️: 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚜.

Jin ☕️: 𝚂𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝟻𝟶𝚔𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝟻.

Jin ☕️: 𝙶𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚎.

Your phone keeps vibrating with notifications from the other chat. You peek at it. 

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Jesus fucking Christ.

Yeji 🖤: 𝚙𝚒𝚣𝚣𝚊 𝚊𝚝 𝚢/𝚗’𝚜?

Yeji 🖤: 𝚠𝚎 𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎 

Your head snaps up. "Excuse me?"

"What?" Yeji doesn't even look guilty. "You keep complaining about him, might as well know what we’re working with here."

You: 𝚋𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚟𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚢 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝

You: 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

Irya 🌸: 𝚘𝚘𝚑 𝚢𝚎𝚜!! 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗??

Irya 🌸: 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 

Irya 🌸: 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚓𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎?

You let out a loud sigh, now considering Irya’s question. Because part of you thinks about bringing unwanted guests to the apartment, about how that could disturb the peace, especially for Yoongi.

But also? Also, Jungkook brought his friends last time. No warning, no group chat message to let you know you’d meeting random dudes in your pokemon PJs.

So he can suck it, honestly. 

You: 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎

You: 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚘

Jin ☕️: 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝙹𝚘𝚎’𝚜.

Jin ☕️: 𝙽𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚎.

Jin ☕️: 𝙰𝚕𝚜𝚘, 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚍𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗.

Another cascade of coffee emojis floods your notifications. You switch back to the apartment chat.

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚡𝚡𝚡𝚡𝚡

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚒𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝟿𝟶% 𝚌𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚎

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

Kuko🖕🏻: ☕️

You hit mute so fast you nearly crack your screen.

You: 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚒𝚣𝚣𝚊 𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎

You: 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚈𝙾𝚄’𝚁𝙴 𝚋𝚞𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚎𝚓𝚒

Yeji 🖤: 𝚕𝚖𝚊𝚘 𝚗𝚘

Yeji 🖤: 𝚒 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝟻𝟶 𝚋𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚢 𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔

Yeji 🖤: 𝚒𝚖 𝙱𝚁𝙾𝙺𝙴 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎

Irya 🌸: 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔? 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚎? 👀 

Irya 🌸: 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 ���𝚞𝚢 𝚖𝚎 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚘𝚔?!?!?! 💘

Jin ☕️: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐.

Jin ☕️: 𝙸’𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚜.

Yeji 🖤: 𝚜𝚑𝚞𝚝 𝚞𝚙 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚋𝚘𝚢

Yeji 🖤: 𝚐𝚘 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜

"So," Yeji says, watching you aggressively fill out the availability section of your application. "Should we warn your roommate about pizza night or...?"

You think about the endless coffee emojis. About how he's probably still spamming them, the notifications piling up in your muted chat.

"Nope."

She grins. "Chaos it is."

You make it to your apartment after what feels like the longest trek ever, juggling the coffee capsules bag and your dignity. And no, you didn't buy them because of him, okay? You bought them because Yoongi deserves his caffeine fix. Yoongi, who actually helped you carry boxes up flights of stairs when you moved in. Yoongi, who warns you when the hot water's acting up. Yoongi, who—unlike some people—doesn't blast music at 3AM.

"Still can't believe you actually bought them," Yeji says for the fifth time, trailing behind you up the stairs. "Like, you're really just gonna enable his bratty ass?"

"They're not for him." You dig through your bag for your keys. "I got the regular ones for Yoongi. The vanilla ones are mine."

"Uh-huh." She's got that look again. "And you got the vanilla ones because...?"

"Because I like vanilla coffee." Your keys jangle aggressively as you search. "Not everything is about him."

"I offered to spike them," she reminds everyone, way too loudly for a hallway. "Could've made it look factory-sealed and everything."

Jimin looks slightly concerned. "Do I want to know why you know how to do that?"

"Probably not," Irya says cheerfully. "But that's why I love her."

You finally locate your keys, jamming them into the lock. It sticks—because of course it does, these old-ass doors—and you have to do that weird wiggle thing to get it open. "The last thing I need is a lawsuit for attempted murder by coffee."

"It wouldn't kill him," Yeji argues. "Just, you know. Mild poisoning. Character building."

"Pretty sure that's still illegal," Jimin says.

"Only if you get caught."

The door finally gives, swinging open to reveal... nobody. The living room's empty, thank fuck. No sign of Yoongi or—more importantly—no sign of him. Maybe they're both out. Maybe you'll actually get through this pizza night without any—

"Yo, this is actually nice," Yeji says, already making herself at home on the couch. "When you said 'bros' cave' I was expecting, like, beer pong tables and stolen street signs."

"Those are in Jungkook's room," you mutter, dropping the coffee bag on the kitchen counter. Not that you've seen his room. You haven't. Obviously.

Irya's examining the vinyl collection by the TV. "These are good albums. Your roommates have taste."

"Those are Yoongi's." Probably. You're like 90% sure they're Yoongi's. You've never actually asked.

"The place is surprisingly clean," Jimin notes, still hovering politely by the door. "Need help with anything?"

"Nah, just—" You pause as something orange streaks past. "Oh, shit, wait—Griffin, no—"

Too late. Your cat roommate's already winding between Jimin's legs, purring like the attention whore he is.

"You have a cat?" Irya drops to her knees immediately. "Oh my god, he's gorgeous."

"He's not mine." You dump your bag on the counter. "He's Jungkook's emotional support menace."

"Like owner, like cat," Yeji says, watching Griffin charm his way into Jimin's arms.

"True." You roll your eyes. "Demanding, dramatic, and constantly in the way."

Griffin headbutts Jimin's shin, purring louder.

"Should I..." He looks uncertain. "Is this okay?"

"Yeah, he does that." You start unpacking the coffee capsules. “He's harmless. Just attention-starved and thinks he owns the place."

"Again," Yeji says, "like owner, like cat."

"Pretty much.”

"At least the cat's cute." She stretches out on the couch, combat boots definitely leaving marks. "Makes up for the personality."

"Tragic how the genes weren't distributed evenly," you mutter, strategizing about how to arrange the coffee capsules in the cabinet. Normal ones for Yoongi, vanilla ones hidden in the back where grabby hands can't reach them.

Irya's still on the floor with Griffin, who's now rolled onto his back. "I don't know, he seems sweet."

"The cat? Yeah." You slam the cabinet open. "The owner? Walking nightmare."

"Speaking of nightmares." Jimin's still by the door, ever polite. "Should we maybe warn him we're having pizza here? Since it's his apartment too..."

You think about the forty-seven coffee emojis still sitting in your muted notifications.

"Nope."

"Absolutely not," Yeji agrees. "He can deal with it like she dealt with having his dudebro friends over last week."

Irya looks up from scratching Griffin's belly. "Oh yeah, didn't you say you ran into them in your—what was it?"

"Pokemon pajamas," you groan. "Look, they were clean, okay? And it was like, Saturday morning. Who has people over at Saturday morning?"

"Douchebags," Yeji supplies helpfully. 

You're about to agree when you hear it. A door opening down the hall. Footsteps.

Of-fucking-course.

"You bought the coffee, phoenix?"

The drawl comes from behind you, and you briefly consider whether jail time for murder would really be that bad. Jungkook's leaning against his doorframe in—are those fucking Sonic pajama pants?—looking like he just rolled out of bed. At 7PM. Because of course he did.

"Nice little reunion you got going on here, by the way." 

He yawns, running a hand through his messy hair as he saunters into the kitchen. Like this is totally fine. Like having your friends over without warning isn't exactly what he did last week with Hoseok and Taehyung—who, by the way, apparently has keys to your fucking apartment. 

You pointedly ignore him, which would work better if he wasn't literally heading straight for you. He reaches around you to rummage through the shopping bags, and you slap his hands away. 

“Get out of my stuff."

"Oh," he pulls out the vanilla capsules before you can stop him, "you actually got me the vanilla ones?"

"They're not for you." You snatch them back. "Get your hands off them."

He grabs for them again. "Pretty sure you bought them because—"

"I bought them for me." You yank them away, but he's already going for the other bag. "Oh my god, can you not—"

"So this is the pain in the ass?" Yeji's voice drips with disdain from the couch. 

Jungkook quirks an eyebrow, still trying to get his hands on your shopping. "Who's Cruella de Vil over there?"

You elbow him away from the bags. "None of your—"

"Another candle?" He snatches it up, holding it over his head where you can't reach. Dick. "Seriously? After last time?"

"If you'd stop making everything smell like balls and nachos—" You jump for it, but he just stretches higher, "—I wouldn't have to buy them, Rogue."

"I don't smell like—"

"Wait," Irya interrupts, and you catch her hiding a smile behind her hand. "Phoenix?"

"Rogue?" Jimin adds quietly from his corner, looking between you back and forth.

Jungkook's smirk widens as he finally lets you grab the candle back. "Oh, she hasn't told you that story?"

"We are not discussing this again." You shove the candle in its bag. "Ever."

"Why not? It's hilarious." He's fully grinning now, leaning his hip against the counter like he owns it. "Haven't told them about how you almost set the place on fire your first week here?"

"BECAUSE YOU ENTERED THE HOUSE LIKE A FUCKING—" Your hand's fisted in his t-shirt before you can stop yourself, and he's snickering, the absolute dick. "Like a complete psychopath," you finish through gritted teeth.

"The lock sticks!" He's still laughing. "I told you, it's an old door—"

"You didn't have to shoulder it open like the SWAT team!"

"You dropped a lit match!"

"Because you scared the shit out of me!" 

"Ugh," Yeji groans. "Is he always like this?"

"Worse," you mutter, finally releasing his shirt. "Usually he's too busy being edgy in his room with his electric guitar."

Irya's definitely smirking now. Jimin looks like he wants to disappear into the wall.

"Whatever, phoenix." He makes another grab for the vanilla capsules. "Rising from the ashes of your attempted arson."

"That's not—" You smack his hand away. "That's not why you started calling me that and you know it."

"Pretty sure it is."

"Pretty sure you're full of shit."

Griffin chooses this moment to abandon Irya and wind between Jungkook's legs, the little traitor. Jungkook immediately scoops him up, and you pretend not to notice how the cat starts purring instantly.

"See?" He scratches under Griffin's chin. "G knows I'm right."

"G's a whore for attention." You start shoving the shopping bags away. "He'd side with Satan if Satan had treats."

"So that's why he likes you."

"You calling me Satan now? Wasn't it phoenix? Pick your poison, dumbass."

"Nah." He's still petting Griffin, who's practically melting in his arms. "Just saying you're both dramatic as fuck."

"Says the guy who kicked down a door over a—"

"The lock was stuck!"

"Yeah? Like your head up your ass?"

“Do you two always do this?” Irya prompts. 

"No," you mutter, yanking the coffee bag away as he tries to sneak another grab at it. "When he's not gaming like a twelve-year-old, he's—stop touching my stuff!"

"Just checking what flavor you got," he says innocently, which might work better if he wasn't actively trying to steal the vanilla capsules. "Since you bought them for me and all—"

"I will actually murder you."

"With what? Another candle?"

"Keep talking and find out."

"Children," Yeji interrupts, looking physically pained. "Can we not?"

But Jungkook's already reaching for the bag again, and you swat his hand away. "I swear to god—"

"What? I'm just being neighborly—"

"You're being a pain in the ass—"

"Aw, you noticed?"

"Hard not to when you're—" You break off as he successfully snags a vanilla capsule. "Give that back."

"Make me."

"What are you, five?"

"Says the one hoarding coffee—"

"It's my coffee—"

"Pretty sure you bought it with daddy's credit card—"

The words hit like a slap and before you can think better of it, you snarl, "Fuck you."

Your eyes widen the second it leaves your mouth because you know that look on his face, that slight quirk of his lips, the way he's already—

You slam your hand over his mouth so fast you practically punch him, fingers digging into his jaw. He makes a muffled sound of protest, but you can feel him grinning under your palm, the absolute dick.

"Don't," you hiss. "Don't you fucking dare."

He raises his eyebrows like who, me? but you can feel him trying not to laugh.

"Okay!" Jimin claps his hands together, looking slightly alarmed. "So, pizza? Anyone want to look at the menu?”

“Oooh, that sounds promising.” Jungkook says, yanking your hand away. 

"Can't you leave?" You eye him. "Go jack yourself off while you look in the mirror or something. Maybe play your fucking guitar."

"Huhhh?" He's already propping his elbows on the back of the sofa, leaning over the narrow table that ‘separates’ the kitchen from the living room. "I want pizza too. Plus, your friends look nice." His smile is all teeth. "I'm sure they don't mind."

Jimin materializes next to you in the kitchen like some kind of conflict-sensing angel, pretending to be interested in the coffee maker. You know he's checking if you're okay, which would be sweet if you weren't currently fantasizing about drowning Jungkook in vanilla coffee.

"I mind," Yeji announces flatly.

"No problem!" Irya chirps at the same time.

Yeji shoots her girlfriend an exasperated look, but Irya just settles more comfortably against her side. You're going to kill both of them.

"Who's the pink pony over here?" Jungkook nods at Irya, and you see Yeji's arm tighten around her shoulders, hackles practically visible.

"Touch her and die."

"Aww, babe." Irya pats Yeji's thigh. "I'm Irya, and this little black cat over here is my girlfriend Yeji." She points across the room. "That's Jimin."

Jungkook glances back at where you're now aggressively reorganizing coffee capsules, Jimin hovering uncertainly beside you. There's something in his expression you don't like, mouth opening to say god knows what—

"And the third roommate?" Yeji cuts in.

You're about to answer but Jungkook beats you to it. "Yoongi's not here."

"Working late," you add, just to be contrary. "You know, like an actual adult with a job?"

"Unlike some people," Yeji mutters.

You snort at her commentary, and you tune out Jungkook’s comeback. Instead your eyes flicker to Jimin, who’s scrolling through his phone, probably looking at pizza options, when—

"Yo Jim, come here." Jungkook waves him over. "Let me look at the menu."

You grab Jimin's arm before he can move, linking it with yours. "I'm choosing first, wait your damn turn."

Jungkook rises from the sofa with a click of his tongue. "Come on, I just wanna—"

"Did she fucking stutter?" Yeji snaps, and Jungkook actually blinks, like he's not used to being shut down that fast.

You turn back to Jimin's phone with maybe a bit too much satisfaction. "Okay, so what are we thinking?"

"They have this new quattro formaggi that's supposed to be good." Jimin tilts the screen so you can see better. "Or the classic margherita—"

"Boring," you mutter, scrolling past. "Oh, what about the spicy one? With the—"

"The calabrese?" He zooms in on the description. "Spicy salami, fresh basil..."

"That looks good." You're actually getting hungry now. "Maybe we could—"

A shadow falls over the phone as Jungkook appears in front of you like some kind of pizza-seeking missile. He peers over both your lowered heads, close enough that you can feel the heat from his chest, and you resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs.

"Have you two decided?" His breath hits your ear. "Because I—"

You're about to grab a fistful of his hair and yank him back to a respectable distance when he snatches Jimin's phone right out of his hands.

"What the fuck—" You start to reach for him, but Jimin catches your wrist.

"It's okay," he says quietly. "Don't worry about it."

Jungkook's already scrolling, completely unbothered. "Yo, what do you two want?" He nods at the couch without looking up.

"Hawaiian for me," Irya pipes up cheerfully. "Yeji wants the diavola, extra spicy."

Yeji just grumbles something that sounds suspiciously like "men" and turns on the TV.

"Cool, cool." Jungkook's still scrolling. "Phoenix, you getting the calabrese?"

"None of your business."

"Just trying to make sure we don't order the same thing." He glances up with that insufferable smirk. "Unless you want to share?"

"I'd rather eat glass."

"Okay, so that's a no on sharing." He's still scrolling through Jimin's phone like he owns it. "I'm thinking meat lovers."

"Of course you are."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"That you're basic as fuck."

"Says the one getting—" he squints at the screen "—spicy calabrese, like some—"

"Can you two shut up for five minutes?" Yeji snaps from the couch. "Some of us are trying to hear the TV."

"My bad," Jungkook says, not sounding sorry at all. He hands Jimin's phone back—finally—and stretches. "Alright, four pizzas ordered. Now we wait."

You watch him sprawl onto the armchair—the one he keeps arguing it’s his (it’s not?)—like he belongs there, and something about it sets your teeth on edge. The casual way he's inserted himself into your evening, how he's somehow charmed Irya into actual conversation, how he keeps looking at you when he thinks you're not paying attention.

"Whatever, man." You push away from the counter, desperate to get away from his presence for at least two minutes. "I'm gonna get into my PJs, I'll be back."

You head down the hall, your skin prickling like he's watching you go. Which he's not. Obviously. You're just on edge because he's being more insufferable than usual, getting all cozy with your friends like he has any right to—

"Yo, phoenix, wait." Jungkook's voice stops you. "Remember that thing with the landlord? The, uh, maintenance form?"

"What maintenance form?"

"You mentioned to Yoongi about the lock sticking, right?" He's already moving towards you with that easy confidence that makes you want to punch him. "Super's been bitching about proper documentation. Needs your signature since it's your door."

He keeps talking as he approaches, something about liability and repair schedules, and it sounds legitimate enough that you almost miss how he's gradually crowding your space. Almost miss how each step brings him closer until—

He reaches past you, hand brushing your hip as he turns the handle. The door barely has time to click shut before Jungkook’s on you, his whole body crowding into yours, ushering you backward so fast you stumble. Almost fall.

“Jesus—”

Your balance tips, but before you can catch yourself, his hands are already on you—grabbing, steadying, possessive. A solid chest against yours, broad palms locking around your wrists before you can shove him away.

He grins down at you, smirky, flushed, pupils blown. That lazy, cocky amusement dripping from his expression like he planned this. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Relax, Phoenix.” His grip tightens, pulling your wrists just slightly apart. “You’re fine.”

And then his mouth crashes onto yours.

Hard. Messy. Zero warning, zero hesitation. Just heat and teeth and tongue, urgent like he needs to shut you up.

You match him instantly, kissing back just as fiercely, nails curling into his shirt, yanking him closer. His hair is soft under your fingers, thick and dangerous, and you tug—just the way he likes it. Just the way that always makes him groan, makes him grab.

Which he does. Both hands drop to your ass, full palms, fingers digging in like he can’t help himself. A rough squeeze that pulls a breathy sound from your throat before you can stop it.

He chuckles, low and wrecked against your lips, hips rolling slow and deliberate against yours. 

“Fuck—” Another squeeze, his voice dropping. “You get all mouthy with me, and then you act surprised when you turn me on?”

Your stomach flips.

His mouth is still moving against yours, sharp and demanding, and fuck—you’re dizzy, heat curling low and deep.

You don’t realize he’s backing you up until your spine collides with the wardrobe.

You wince. “God, fuck—”

Jungkook barely lets you finish before his teeth graze your jaw, lips dragging lower—

No.

You shove at his chest, breath coming fast. “What is your problem?”

His smirk is instant, panting slightly, lips wrecked. The fucking look in his eyes—smoky, half-lidded, shamelessly pleased with himself.

“Mm?” He tilts his head, like he didn’t just grope the hell out of you. “What?”

“You can’t—” A sharp inhale. You straighten your shirt, glare sharp enough to cut. “My friends are here.”

He blinks. Shrugs. "So?"    

"So," you bite out, "we are not doing this."    

Jungkook just looks at you, like you’re speaking a foreign language. "Doing what?"    

"Don't." You level him with a flat stare.    

His head tilts, gaze dragging over you, slow and deliberate. "I just wanted to talk."    

"Talk," you repeat, incredulous.    

"Yeah." He plants a hand on the wardrobe beside your head. Not caging you in—just existing in your space, like he belongs there. "Privately."    

Jesus fuck.    

"Nope." You press your palms to his chest, feeling the heat of his skin through cotton. "Not happening."    

"Phoenix." His voice dips, lazy and smooth, like he’s humoring you. "I'll be quick."    

A disbelieving scoff. "Absolutely the fuck not."    

He laughs, quiet and amused, like this is funny to him.    

Of course it is. Of course it is.    

You shove at his chest again. "They don’t know about this, and they’re not going to know about this."    

His brows pull together, expression open, genuinely confused. "Why?"    

Oh, you could kill him.    

"Because," you grind out, "I don't need them speculating."    

"Speculating about what?"    

"About us, dumbass!"    

The words land—and then he snorts. He just, snorts. Like you just told him a funny joke he lowkey doesn’t want to laugh at. 

"Oh, fuck off," you snap.    

His grin lingers. "Nix. We fuck. That’s it. No one’s gonna think we’re picking out wedding invitations."    

You glare. "You're missing the point."    

"I really don't think I am."    

"Rogue." You exhale sharply. "I don’t want them in my business, okay?"    

He watches you for a beat, head tilted like he’s reading between the lines.    

Then he nods. Simple. Easy. "Okay."    

You blink. "Okay?"    

"Yeah?" He shrugs. "You don’t want them to know, they won’t know. It’s not that deep."    

Right. Not that deep.    

It shouldn’t be a relief—he’s only agreeing because he doesn’t care—but your shoulders still drop a fraction.    

"Good," you say.    

He hums, gaze flicking over your face, considering. "I mean, it’s not like you gotta tell them I’m your boyfriend or something. Just that we fuck sometimes. What’s wrong with that?"    

You scoff. "Everything is wrong with that, Jungkook."    

He raises an eyebrow. "Like what?"    

Like—god, where do you start?    

Like the fact that this is supposed to be contained, something that stays locked in this apartment and nowhere else. Like the fact that you need to be in control of it because if you’re not, it means it’s spiraling, and spiraling is—    

Not an option.    

He hums, considering. The vibration shivers over your skin. "Interesting."

The fuck does that mean?

You glare at him. "What?"

"Nothing." But there's a glint in his eye you don't like. Knowing. Assessing. "Just seems like you're overthinking it."

"I'm not—"

"Ashamed?" His head tilts. "Embarrassed?"

Heat crawls up your neck. "Fuck you."

"I mean." A slow drag of his gaze, head to toe and back again. "If you insist..."

Oh my god. 

Your foot connects with his shin. Hard. He grunts, flinching back. Good.

"Touch me again," you growl, "and you lose your dick."

 He holds up his hands. The picture of innocence. "Message received."

"Is it?" You cross your arms. Narrow your eyes. "Because it seems like you're having trouble understanding basic fucking boundaries."

"Nah, I get it." But there's a wicked glint in his eye, and oh, that can't be good. "No telling your friends about all the filthy things we do."

"There is no we.” You jab a finger at his chest. "No us."

A slow nod. "Right."

"I mean it, Rogue." You hold his gaze, unflinching. "This?" A sharp gesture between your bodies. "Doesn't leave this apartment."

"Mm." His tongue swipes over his bottom lip. Deliberate. Obscene. "So I shouldn't mention how you like it when I—"

Your hand clamps over his mouth, muffling his words. "Finish that sentence and die."

He grins against your palm, wholly unrepentant. Bastard.

You drop your hand. Take a step back. "I'm serious, Ry."

"Oh, I know." But there's a curl to his lips you don't trust. Not one bit.

"Do you?" You cross your arms. "Because it sounds like you're angling for a free pass to run your mouth."

"Nah." He mirrors your posture, arms folding over his chest. “Just getting a feel for the rules."

Right. Sure. "The rules are simple." You hold up a finger. "Rule one: no one knows we're fucking."

A nod. "Easy enough."

"Rule two," you continue, "if anyone asks, we're just roommates."

"Uh-huh." His tongue presses against the inside of his cheek. Considering. "That all?"

Wariness prickles up your spine. "Why?"

A shrug. Too casual. "No reason."

Bullshit.

You shake your head. "Just—forget it. Are we done here?"    

Jungkook watches you for another long second.  

Then he nods. "Yeah, we're done."  

He turns, already reaching for the doorknob, when—  

"Oh." A pause. Like he just remembered something. "And just so we're clear—this isn’t exclusive, right?"  

You blink. "What?"  

He glances back, expression easy. Casual. "Like, I can fuck other people. That cool with you?"  

A laugh bursts out of you. Short. Sharp. "Why the fuck would I care?"  

His mouth twitches. "Dunno. Just making sure."  

"Well, consider it confirmed." You fold your arms. "Do whatever the fuck you want, just—"  

He lifts his brows. "Just?"  

"Don’t give me an STD." You level him with a flat look. 

He snorts. "Noted." A beat. Then, amused— "You want test results?"  

"Oh, fuck off, Rogue."  

"Just offering, Phoenix." His smirk lingers for half a second before his expression smooths out. "So, rule number three, then."

You narrow your eyes. "Rule what?"

"Rules." He gestures between you. "One: no one knows. Two: if they ask, we're just roommates." A pause. "Three: no feelings."

Something in his voice shifts, something light but pointed, like he's not saying it just for your benefit.

You scoff. "Yeah, no shit."

He nods once, satisfied. "Cool."

And then he's gone, door clicking shut behind him like the whole thing never happened.

The air in the room is suddenly too thick.  

You exhale sharply, back hitting the wardrobe, and press your palms over your face.  

God damn him.  

Not just for being an insufferable pain in your ass, but for being right. Because logically, there's no reason to keep this a secret—he's not your boyfriend, he's just your roommate who happens to fuck you sometimes. It's not a big deal. It's not anything.

But something in you rebels at the thought of anyone knowing. Of having to explain yourself, to justify your choices. You've had enough of that to last a lifetime, enough of measuring every decision against someone else's expectations. Enough of being told what you should want, what you should do, who you should be.

This thing with Jungkook? It's yours. Messy and stupid and probably a horrible idea, but it's yours. The one thing in your life that nobody gets to have an opinion about, that nobody gets to control but you. 

And maybe that's fucked up. Maybe normal people don't feel this desperate need to keep parts of themselves hidden, to maintain this iron grip on every aspect of their lives. Maybe they don't lie awake at night planning escape routes from their own decisions.

But you've never been very good at normal, have you?

You straighten, smooth your shirt, school your face into something neutral.  

Then you open the door, step back into the living room, and pretend like your world isn’t tilting.

next | index

⋆｡°✩ taglist ✩°｡⋆

@cannotalwaysbenight @livingformintyoongi @itstoastsworld @jimineepaboya @somehowukook @stuti2904 @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe

© jungkoode 2025 no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[gothicxreylover]

I just got an idea. Yandere hashira plus the wives kanao and Aoi with a time traveling reader from the 21st century who tries to ward them off by spraying water at them with a spray bottle. And they say “bad! Bad!” While doing it.

The way I wrote it was kinda unserious so it’s basically just fluff and crack

The situation had spiraled out of control.

You, a time traveler from the 21st century, had somehow ended up in the Demon Slayer era. As if that wasn’t bad enough, you had attracted the obsessive attention of the Hashira, Tengen’s wives, Kanao, and Aoi.

They were all crazy.

It started with Mitsuri clinging to your arm whenever she saw you, gushing about how adorable you were. Then, Rengoku began showing up at odd hours, declaring that he would personally protect you at all costs. Tengen’s wives started sneaking you off to “spend time together,” while Obanai and Sanemi developed a concerning habit of hovering way too close.

You had tried reasoning with them. Didn’t work.

You had tried running. Caught within seconds.

Then, an idea struck. A technique passed down through generations of pet owners, daycare workers, and desperate siblings.

The almighty spray bottle.

Armed with a repurposed perfume bottle filled with water, you were ready. The next time one of them tried to grab you—

Spritz.

A fine mist of water hit Rengoku square in the face. He blinked in shock, the sheer audacity of your attack stunning him into silence.

“Bad!” you scolded, shaking the bottle. “Bad!”

Rengoku wiped his face, golden eyes wide. “Huh?”

A moment of silence passed.

It worked. IT WORKED.

Emboldened, you turned to the others, who had begun closing in, some amused, others curious.

Spritz! Spritz!

Shinobu gasped as droplets hit her cheek. “Oh my,” she murmured, touching her face. “How cruel, Y/N.”

Mitsuri squealed, hands flying to her face. “That’s so mean! But so cute at the same time~!”

Sanemi snarled, dodging the mist. “The hell are you doing?!”

“Training you freaks to stay away!” you snapped.

Tengen’s wives were next. Hinatsuru and Makio gasped when they got hit, while Suma let out a dramatic wail, collapsing to the ground.

“IT BURNS! Y/N, HOW COULD YOU?!” she sobbed.

Makio rolled her eyes. “It’s just water, Suma.”

Meanwhile, Giyuu simply blinked at you, water dripping down his face, looking as if he were questioning all his life choices. Muichiro, standing beside him, barely reacted, only sighing as if you were wasting his time.

Then, you heard the soft shuffle of feet.

Kanao.

She approached with a soft, unreadable smile, violet eyes locked onto you. You knew that look—she was about to reach for your hand, like she had done before.

Spritz.

Kanao barely flinched. Instead, she tilted her head and smiled. “I don’t mind.”

You faltered. “What.”

Then, to your horror, she took the bottle from your hands.

Before you could react, she spritzed you.

Betrayal.

“Kanao. Why.”

Shinobu giggled behind her hand. “How interesting… you thought this would work?”

“I-It did for a second!” you argued.

A sigh drew your attention—Aoi. She was staring at you like you were the dumbest person she had ever met. Before you could reach for the bottle, she snatched it from Kanao’s hands and smacked it out of reach.

“Enough of that nonsense,” she scolded, arms crossed. “You’re acting like a child.”

Your heart sank.

And just like that, the hesitation in their eyes vanished.

“Oh no,” you whispered.

A shadow loomed over you—Tengen, his cocky grin sending chills down your spine. “That was adorable, but did you really think you could keep us away with water, little one?”

Rengoku, now recovered, chuckled warmly, though his eyes gleamed with something dangerous. “A valiant effort! But no matter what, Y/N, we won’t leave your side.”

You tried to take a step back, but hands reached for you.

“Wait! Let’s talk about this—”

Too late.

You let out a muffled yelp as you were pulled into their arms, the warmth of their bodies suffocating. Kanao and Aoi stood off to the side, watching as the others crowded you like a pack of wolves.

“I think they’ve learned their lesson,” Aoi said, shaking her head.

Kanao held the spray bottle, inspecting it thoughtfully. “Maybe we should keep this,” she murmured. “It could be fun.”

And as you struggled in their grasp, you made a mental note:

Next time, bring pepper spray.

[velvet-apricots]

Hello I have another little fic here, about Rook being trapped in the fade. Or more accuratly, Emmrich Volkarin reacting immediately after rook being trapped.

The basis of this fanfic is simple! What if Emmrich reacted with rage upon finding out Rook was trapped by Solas? Rage towards Solas and even his friends?

So here we are! 1,043 words. Additional notes are: Harding is alive, as is Davrin. Because I say so.

The eye of the storm collapsed, and knocked them all back, the flash of magic blinding them. Emmrich’s head cracked on the stone ground, his ears ringing and head spinning. He lifted his head, dazed as his eyes tried to see. But the flash blindness obscured his vision. He blinked, sitting himself up. He blinked again, harder this time. The blindness faded a little, a splotchy form kneeling where Ghilan’nain’s body had been. He felt relief for a moment “Rook-“ They stood. The splotchy silhouette was wrong. Too tall, too broad. His blood went cold, still not able to see who it was “Solas what did you do!!” Harding yelled, voice hoarse, voice muffled by the ringing in his ears. Solas? But Solas was- where was Rook? A man's voice spoke, clear and sharp. Familiar and etched into Emmrich’s mind from the memories of a god. “Harding? You are alive? I thought…  It is no matter. I am glad you-“ “You're glad? Glad?! Did you plan for me to die?!” The ground shook. Whether it was Harding’s anger or the Blight, Emmrich could not tell. “What did you do with her?!” Emmrich’s vision cleared. Solas stood where Rook had been, the lyrium dagger in his hand. Harding stood before him, blood soaking one arm and her armor stained by blight, her eyes glowing.

“I am afraid she is gone, trapped by regret in the fade. Rook has made a noble sacrifice, so that I may slay Elgar’nan.” The words hit Emmrich like a punch to the gut. Panic set it, its constricting grip around his throat as he fumbled for his staff, scrambling to his knees.  “I care for you Rook… But there are such years between us. I shouldn't heap you with that burden.” “You’re breaking my heart by worrying.” He had been so worried about himself. So scared to love her. So determined to sabotage his relationship with her, to spare her from the pain of being stuck with him; A terrified, fool of an old man. So terrified he was that he had not even considered that she would be the one gone. His eyes ached and his heart bled.  “Where is she?” Emmrich asked, ignorant to the growing rage of Elgar’nan. Solas turned his gaze on him. His expression looked pitiful and torn. As if he was carrying sorrow on his shoulders.  That only sparked something in Emmrich, an emotion he so rarely had. Rage. “Where is she?!” his voice rose in pitch, cracking as he rose on shaky feet. His face contorting in a furious scowl, tears starting to roll down his face, Emmrich yelled, chest heaving as he swung his staff, firing a missile of magic at the bastard. Solas lifted his hand and blocked it effortlessly. “It is best if you leave. Elgar’nan will kill you all. I shall stop him, and put an end to this.”

”I will not leave until you give her back!” Emmrich threw another spell at him.  “Emmrich-” Harding ran up and grabbed his staff, and he struggled to rip it out of her grip. Solas’s brows furrowed. He opened his mouth. Hesitated, then spoke. “I am sorry. You will never see her again.” “Liar!” Emmrich screamed, shoving Harding back, abandoning his staff and lunging for him with the intention of wrapping his hands around his neck, but then a strong hand grabbed his right bicep, yanking him back.  “Emmrich, we have to go.” Davrin hissed, dragging him back, away from Solas. Emmrich could only yell, kicking and cursing and crying as he kept trying to get at the man that had taken his beloved away. Enraged that he had the audacity to say “sorry”, the gaul to look so pitifully regretful of his actions.  Monster! Demon! Bastard!  He was dragged to the Eluvian, emotions turning into a horrid mix of rage and panic. If he was taken away from this place, then he would not be able to properly trace where she went. It would waste valuable time. “Let me go- I need to-” Davrin’s face was a mask of determination, but his eyes were wet. “No.” “Davrin let me go-” “I am not leaving you here. Rook would kill me if I let you stay and get killed.” Davrin hissed, the others darting through the rippling surface. Neve, Assan, Lucanis, Harding. No Bellara, No Rook. Taash stopped, turning around and motioning their head. “Hurry up!” Davrin continued to ignore Emmrich’s begging, dragging him closer and closer to the mirror, and he turned on the younger man in a panicked rage. Emmrich cursed, pulling his left wrist back and punching Davrin in the jaw, his emerald ring cutting him and leaving a deep gouge. As he pulled his fist back for another punch, Taash ran up and grabbed his other arm. The two of them got him through the eluvian, and Emmrich sank to the floor, watching with growing despair as Tearstone Island faded away to the crossroads. It felt like a dagger slipped through his ribs, twisting in his heart. He shuddered, face contorting as he buried his face in his hands. He sobbed, shoulders heaving as he curled in on himself. He had not been able to apologize.  Harding moved to comfort him, but Davrin grabbed her shoulder. ”You need to be cleaned up or you might get infected. Come on. I will patch you up too.” he led her away, Harding casting a final glance at the sobbing Emmrich. “I need coffee…” Lucanis said, face contorted into a mixture of disgust and sadness.  Taash was silent, fists trembling from how hard they were clenching. Neve was the one who kneeled by Emmrich, her hand resting on his back. Making him shudder. “Emmrich… come on. We will figure this out. We will get Rook and Bellara back.” Emmrich could only sob in response, his hands moving to tangle into his hair. Neve’s hands moved up to squeeze his shoulders, her lips pursed in distress, looking like she too would cry. “Come on. We can't find her without you.” He dragged his hands down his face, jaw clenching as he willed himself to stop sobbing. She was right. He was the fade expert. He was the one who could find her. Even if he could not get to where she was lost… He could find her. He would find her. And he would do whatever it took to do so.

[lotsnlotsofsoup]

Genuine question why do so many people say Mary is a bad and toxic person.

Also minor spoilers for chapter 4 (the mary linton missions)

Yes, it's true that she always called him when she needed something, but in a historical context, she didn't have much of a choice as a woman. I mean, after her husband died and her father has shown to barely care about her, she had no one else to reach out to.

Sure, some of her lines weren't my favorite, such as, "You could have cleaned yourself up a bit" and she definitely has her flaws, but I honestly enjoyed their dynamic. I liked the subtle nature of their relationship and how their love for each other didn't feel overly forced. Yeah, it was sudden for her to ask him to be with her, but the tension between them has been happening for years. The love that both of them felt for each other never truly left ever since they were young.

Even in their first mission, Arthur gets upset at her for calling him, but you have to admit that some of his anger is his fault as well since he chose to go and see her, too. Arthur can bicker about the fact that she had the audacity to send him a letter, but he wouldn't have shown up if he didn't care.

(IMO, even though I haven't seen the cutscene yet where he declines to help her brother on the first mission, I'm convinced that the reason why he declined is because he regretted showing up in the first place to go and see her. Probably why he thinks he's such a fool in his journal.)

Idk if I'm a hopeless romantic or not, but those are my thoughts. Also, apparently, she is supposed to send another letter to Arthur in chapter 6 and I haven't gotten it yet (I don't know what it's about) but I'm curious to see what she has to say. I wonder what's going to happen to their relationship since they obviously won't be able to be with each other.

Also, here's a photo of Arthur and Mary back when I played chapter 4 :D The fact that he can make a move on her but embarrassingly chickens out is so funny to me 🤣

[pascaloverx]

MESSY

Author's Note: The character Michael does not belong to me, but to the film Hoard (2023). There won't be a summary at this time because I'm unsure if the fanfic will continue. So, if you enjoy this preview, please comment and like. Engage! Thank you for your attention.

PREVIEW

There is a growing desperation within you. Just a few weeks ago, you would never have imagined yourself in this position, but you have run out of options. Your father took a new wife mere months after your mother’s passing, and she had no interest in playing the role of a stepmother. So, he cast you out, leaving you with nowhere to go. "It’s my house," were the last words you heard before being thrown onto the street as if you meant nothing.

Now, you are about to knock on the door of a man named Michael, who is looking for a roommate. He could very well be a lunatic, living in a house that, from what you can tell, is surrounded by garbage and rats. That is not an exaggeration—there is a massive mouse scurrying into the alley beside the house, carrying something in its mouth. But even that won’t stop you from taking what little savings you have and paying to live here.

"Hello?" The man you assume to be Michael opens the door just as you knock, catching you off guard, and you nearly stumble backward. Fortunately, he notices and grabs your hand to steady you. He’s sweaty, and you almost slip from his grip.

"Oh my God, is that a puddle of water?" you ask, realizing your body has lightly brushed against something wet in front of his house.

"Hate to break it to you, but we haven’t had any rain, so it’s probably…" he says casually, implying that whatever you touched wasn’t water, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Great. Now I need a shower," you mutter, straightening up and resisting the urge to strip off your clothes right then and there.

"Did you come here just to ask for a shower?" he asks, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it in front of you. Great. A smoker.

"Who in their right mind would show up at a stranger’s house in the middle of the afternoon just to ask for a shower?" you ask, still debating whether this is worth it. Every instinct is telling you to turn around and leave, but then reality hits—you can’t afford to be picky. The rent is cheap, and, more importantly, you have nowhere else to go.

"I’m actually here about the roommate ad." Michael tilts his head slightly, dragging his gaze over you as if trying to read your entire life story.

"You don’t seem like the kind of person who’d want to live in a place like this—no offense," he says, exhaling smoke through his nose. You hold back the urge to roll your eyes, biting down your irritation.

"When you have no other choice, you can live anywhere. The important thing here is that you have something I need, and I have money to pay for it," you say, stepping closer despite the heavy scent of smoke clinging to him. Michael takes another drag of his cigarette before smirking.

"The way you’re saying that makes it sound like you’re offering me money for something else," he muses, amusement flickering in his eyes. He steps toward you, finishing his cigarette and flicking it to the ground, crushing it under his boot. You scoff, letting out a dry laugh. His self-confidence is astonishing.

"And what exactly do you think I’d be paying you for, other than a place to live?" you counter, keeping your expression unreadable. His smirk deepens. "Come upstairs, and I’ll show you."

The way his brown eyes stay locked on you sends a wave of heat through your body—not from attraction, but from the sheer audacity of his words. He wets his lips with the tip of his tongue, clearly enjoying the effect he’s having on you. That’s it.

"I knew this was a mistake," you mutter, grabbing your suitcase and turning to leave. You don't even make it two steps before strong arms lift you off the ground, catching you completely off guard.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" you shout, squirming in his hold, but he doesn’t let go. He’s stronger than he looks, his grip firm yet effortless.

"There are plenty of things wrong with me. It’s my job to keep them hidden from you, and yours to find them out on your own. Now stop squirming—I’ll let you go in a second," he mutters, his voice strained as he maneuvers you into the house with unsettling ease.

You barely have time to process what just happened before your eyes sweep over the interior. A narrow staircase leads to the upper floor, while to the side, the living room sprawls in cluttered disarray. At the back of the house, you spot the kitchen. The air carries a faint, unpleasant odor, and you do your best not to react too strongly as you take in the mess. Michael walks in behind you, dragging your suitcase inside before straightening up.

"I think we got off on the wrong foot. Name’s Michael. I really do need someone to help with the expenses, so it’d be an honor to have you here. There are two bedrooms upstairs, along with the bathroom, which we’ll have to share. Kitchen’s straight ahead. Turn to the side, and you’ll find the living room. Rent’s due at the beginning of every month, and while I’ll try to be the best roommate I can, don’t expect me to change who I am," he says, extending a hand as if sealing an agreement. You hesitate, every part of you still screaming to leave, but the reality of your situation weighs heavier. You have nowhere else to go.

"Fine. I’ll stay. I’ll pay the rent on time, but you should know that I won’t change either. And I refuse to live in a dump," you say, watching as he pulls out yet another cigarette and lights it right in front of you.

Michael smirks, tucking the cigarette between his lips. "Do whatever you want, princess. Cleaning supplies should be around here somewhere. Officially, mi casa es su casa," he says, blowing out smoke as he steps closer, slow and deliberate. You stand your ground, refusing to be intimidated.

"I have somewhere to be, but when I get back, we can talk more. There’s a spare key on the hook behind the door. Since you’re so keen on cleanliness, I’d suggest you start with that shower," he adds with a smirk before giving you a wink and disappearing out the door, leaving you alone in the middle of the mess.

[justbagel]

𝐈𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐝 𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮||𝐬. 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨

𝟎𝟐|Just Friends

|𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬|: Thanks for reading! 1.6k words

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

"I think I know what your problem is." Gojo opened the doors to the cafe that the two of you decided to stop at. You were immediately greeted with the calming scent of pastries and coffee.

You paused for a moment, and shot him a questioning look. "I have a problem?"

"Never mind." Gojo said with a shrug, his smirk refusing to leave his face, as if he didn't realize the utter audacity of his words.

"What? What is it?"

"Nothing, forget about it." He put his hands into his pockets and opted to look towards the hostess stand, signature smirk still on his face.

"Forget about what?" You furrowed you brows, a mix of curiosity and annoyance on your features.

Gojo paused, as if he was thinking of the right way to word what he was about to say. "It's just I don't think you've ever had a decent boyfriend before." He swiftly turned towards the hostess who was now patiently waiting to seat you both. "Two please."

"Right over here sir." The hostess smiled at the two of you handed the you both menus. She then began to lead you and Gojo over to a table next to a large window overlooking the busy street.

Gojo then trailed after the hostess and you quickly followed close behind, not about to simply let go of the remark that he just made.

"Uh, yes I have."

Arriving at the table, the two of you took your respective seats, sitting across from one another.

Gojo chuckled, clearly not believing you. "No you haven't."

You scoffed, eyes narrowing in disbelief, but the quick flicker of doubt in your stomach betrayed how uncomfortable his words made you. There was no way he was being serious.

"It just so happens that I have had plenty of charming boyfriends." You raised your voice, gaining some pointed looks from the other costumers in the cafe.

Gojo raised a brow. "Who?"

"Huh?"

"Who was the appealing guy you were with?" He leaned forward grinning, causing his dark shades to slide slightly down his nose.

You immediately took notice of how bright his blue eyes were, distracting you for a split second.

You rolled your eyes and opened the menu In front of you, opting to look at that rather then stare him in the eye. "I'm not going to telling you that!"

"Fineee, don't tell me." He grinned and leaned back in his seat, clearly not believing you even have had a boyfriend.

You scoffed and looked up from your menu, surprised that you were even entertaining his question. "Nanami Kento."

Gojo gasped, eyes lighting up with amusement. "Nanami? Nanami Kento? He was the 'charming guy' you were with?"

"So what if he was?"

"It's just Nanami's so cold and distant, there is no way that he was a good boyfriend!" Gojo seemed extremely amused by the fact that you dated Nanami. It made you wonder if he knew him or something.

Before you could shoot a response back defending yourself, the waiter came over to take your orders.

"Hi, what can I get ya?" He opened his notepad and clicked his pen, wearing a polite smile.

Gojo took a brief glance at the menu. "I'll have two chocolate mochi doughnuts."

The waiter nodded and jotted down his order, then glanced over to you.

You did another once over of the menu. "I'll have mocha caramel latte with no whipped cream."

The waiter nodded and began to write in his notepad. "Alright, Mocha caramel latte.. no whipped cream.."

"Oh, and make sure that there's just enough room on top so I can stir in a sugar packet without spilling any coffee at all." You smiled and clarified for the waiter.

The waiter nodded briefly and walked off, but Gojo gave you a pointed look.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing. So how come you and Nanami broke up?" He pried, oddly interested in your love life.

"How do you know we broke up?" You raised a brow, even though he was right.

"Because if you guys broke up you wouldn't be here with me. You'd be off somewhere with Nanami~" He teased, saying your ex boyfriends name in a teasing tone.

The more he pried the more uncomfortable you got. Why did he care so much? You didn't understand why he kept wanting to talk about something that was clearly a tough topic for you. The more you talked to Gojo, the more you wondered why Aiko was so in love with him.

You sighed annoyed, and looked beside you out the window. "First of all, there is nothing wrong with me being 'with' you here, even if me and Nanami were together. Second of all, it really is none of your business why we broke up."

Before Gojo could respond, the waiter came over with both your orders, placing them in front of the two of you. Gojo nodded at the waiter and you gave him a polite "Thank you."

A brief silence hovered between the two of you before Gojo decided to break the peace once again.

"So are you going to tell me or what?" He pried again, seemingly desperate for the reason you and Nanami broke up.

You took a sip of your drink before giving him a questioning glance. "No. Like I said it's really none of your business."

Gojo rolled his eyes and groaned taking a bite of his doughnut. "Why not?"

You sighed and took another sip of your drink. "I don't expect you to know this, but me and Nanami broke up fairly recently, and I just don't want to talk about it okay?" You flashed him a frustrated smile, hoping he would just let it go.

Surprisingly, he did. He raised an eyebrow and nodded, seemingly not understanding why you were frustrated. Opting to change the subject, you began to calculate how much each of you owed, doing the math on a napkin.

"Fifteen percent of my share is ninety.. six ninety. That leaves seven." You muttered to yourself, scribbling the math down. Glancing up, you caught Gojo's gaze lingering on you with a cheeky smile on his face.

You gave him a questioning look. "What? Do I have something on my face?"

"Has anyone ever told you you're a very attractive person?" He smirked a mischievous glint in his eye.

Your thoughts immediately went to Aiko, and just how much she liked this boy. 'What would she think if she heard what Gojo said just now?'

You paused and gave him a tight lipped smile. "Thank you." You said briefly.

"Aiko never said how attractive you are." He repeated.

You shrugged and didn't meet his gaze. "Maybe she doesn't think I'm attractive."

"Well, it's not a matter of opinion, you are attractive."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. "Aiko is my friend."

"So?" He asked, an eyebrow raised.

"So? You're with Aiko!" You exclaimed, furrowing your brows and shooting him a glare. 'How did he not see anything wrong with that?'

"So?" He matched your tone, still not getting the point.

"So, you're trying to come onto me!" You exclaimed, throwing your arms up in frustration.

"No I wasn't. What?" He denied.

Your jaw dropped and you gave him a wide eyed look, shocked at the words leaving his mouth.

"What? Cant a guy say a woman is attractive without it being a come on?" He scoffed, and you were still silently glaring at him. "Alright, for the sake of the argument maybe it was a come on. But what do you want me to do about it? I take it back okay?"

"You cant just take that back!"

"Why not?"

"Because it's already out there!" You looked at him wide eyed.

Gojo rolled his eyes. "Y/N, it is not that big of a deal. Like you said it's already out there."

You clenched the bridge of your nose, furrowing your brows. "Just leave it be okay?"

"Great! Greatttt! Leave it be!" He scoffed sarcastically, mimicking you.

A think tension hung in the air after that, neither of you really knew what to say. Part of you felt bad for rejecting him a bit rudely, but Aiko was your friend after all. He had no right to try and come onto you. You really felt bad for Aiko.

You let out a heavy sigh, breaking the silence that was between you two. "Listen Gojo, I'm not doing this. We can just be friends okay?"

"Great! Friends! It's what was meant to be." He rolled his eyes.

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊★‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

"You know, I don't think we can ever be friends." Gojo suddenly said, gazing out the window of the passenger seat of the car.

"Why not?"

"Because men and women cant be friends. The attraction part always gets in the way." He stated matter-of-factly, now looking you in the eye.

"That's not true. I have plenty of male friends and there is no romance involved." You shot back, not understanding where he was getting his odd ideals from.

"No you don't"

"Yes I do."

"No you don't."

"Yes I do"

"You only think you do."

"How do you know?"

"Because no man can be friends with a girl he finds attractive. He's always going to want to secretly date her."

"Well, what if they don't think you're attractive?" You shot him a side glance.

"Doesn't matter, it's already out there so the friendship is already doomed. Plus, you're one of the few who's ever rejected me."

"Well, I guess we cant be friends then." You sighed.

"Guess not." He didn't seem all to bothered by that.

"That's too bad. You were the only person I knew in Shibuya." Your thoughts ran to Aiko and how long it's probably going to be till you see her again. You then began to think about her and Gojo, and how she deserved so much better then this scumbag sitting next to you. You could not wait till you would never have to see him again.

[dis-astre]

forever remembering that time in high school when my teacher had the audacity to say "1832 was barely a manifestation, it was like one day and wasn't big nor important" and my friends had to physically restrain me from screaming or throwing her my book

[ilikefelines]

Sure is GRRM making a point in fire and blood that bastardphobia is bad? Yup. But he's also making a point about Rhaenyra's selfishness and greed. She knew that the Strong-Boys would be in danger from the moment they came out with brown hair but still continued. It's not just bastardphobia is bad. There are layers to this people.

And also miss me with that 'legally they were Velaryon's' nonsense. In GRRMs Planetos, he's gone to great pains to show that there is no demarcation between bloodlines and legality.

[breannastewart]

just some vets and their rookie, feat. jewell + nneka + nika 🥹

[beautiful-basque-country]

I've seen too many people being against her cancellation because freedom of speech and people can have different ideas.

Freedom of speech, she has used it when tweeting, and people with different ideas from her have decided they don't wanna support her. So what do they mean??

Aaaand the audacity she had saying she wrote all that shit because it was during her transition and she wanted to fit in. Fit in with bigots, I guess.

What do you think of the Karla Gascon controversy!? For me if she were someone coming across as a nationalist(which I think she is)like I would assume she’d say nasty things about Catalans and Basques too, if given the chance.

Kaixo anon!

You mean like she already did?

Following the NASA press conference about water found on Mars. Wow! Luckily they're not Catalans, [otherwise] they would have kept it to themselves.

A Catalan secessionist was invited to a wedding and he ended up eating alone in a corner, he couldn't stand watching how the food was shared by everybody.

I hope that soon this gang of Catalan nazi-onalists rot in prison if this or any other virus won't take them with it.

Pretty self-explanatory.

I am fed up with the Latin American fairytale that's being told in every country since early ages, evil Spaniards that came to IMPOSE and to steal. ENOUGH!

As the Pope should be honest and tell you the truth, for fucking once, "the Three Wise Men are the parents", somebody should have the courage to tell you all the truth about America. You, YOU, just you are the offspring of the ones you've been taught to hate so much. Look at your surnames, your names; as far as I know García, Márquez, López, Baena, Aparicio, Ramírez, etc aren't Toltec surnames; and names like Mayte, Rosa, Alejandra, Alfredo, josé, etc, etc, aren't Swedish.

She's erasuring Basque people here, since García and Maite [not Mayte], are Basque.

[hyakunana]

"Were you even listening? How many reports, Ikora? How many times did I tell you what I saw?"

[astrolionking]

Shoutout to Grandma Rosiepuff for gambling while her eldest grandson’s mental health was slowly declining bc he suddenly had to raise four little brothers on his own and that affected his brothers’ mental health.

[littledaydreamers]

Kai watched her turn to leave, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. Oh, hell no. She wasn’t getting off that easy—not after that. Not after the way she kissed him like she meant it and then had the audacity to act like it never happened. Like she could just brush it off, walk away, and pretend she wasn’t still feeling it just as much as he was.

Before she could slip too far, his hand shot out, fingers wrapping around her wrist—not hard, just firm enough to stop her. To make her look at him.

"Nah," he muttered, voice lower now, rougher. "You don’t get to do that, princess."

His grip was steady but unthreatening as he pulled her back, just enough to spin her toward him again, just enough so that their bodies were close—too close. His free hand found her waist, pressing her back against him.

"You don’t get to kiss me like that," he murmured, his gaze locked onto hers, intense, unwavering. "And then act like it was nothing." He let the words settle, his thumb brushing absently against the inside of her wrist. Steady pulse. But faster than before.

A smirk played at the corner of his lips, but there was something else in his expression now—something less teasing, more real. He leaned in just a fraction, just enough for his breath to ghost over her lips, deliberately testing the waters. "You can say whatever you want," he said lowly, his voice smooth, taunting. "But we both know you’re not walking away because you want to. You’re walking away because you have to."

His grip loosened then, giving her the choice. Letting her decide if she wanted to stay. If she was going to run, or if she was going to stop pretending.

there was no expiration date or thought of when this might end, though the urgency of both of their actions was leading them down a very slippery slope in terms of restraint. there was only so much you could push at the actions of desire before there's a want and a need to escalate it further. of course pia was very aware that the longer they did this that she felt that fire the moment their lips pressed together. it was like all her irritation for him channeled into that one moment where she could just get tangled up in him and their bodies would do the only talking. the problem being that she knew the moment they stopped that he would ruin it, one way or another. pop her bubble in a matter of seconds just by opening his mouth.

they were both panting in their breaths in the silence as they pulled away from one another but not far enough that she could still feel his body pressed against hers and the tension it yeilded. the moment she saw that smirk of his begin to form she immediately regretted her decision. how could she be so stupid as to spur on his behaviour? she just wanted him to stop talking in all reality.

her orbs rolled in irritation, the pet name back in full force, didn't take him long did it? "i already am thanks." she portrayed a very sarcastic grin, aware of what she may have caused. "good thing that this is never ever happening again, huh?" she pointed out in a very definitive tone. who was she trying to convince really? because even she didn't believe herself. "if you'll excuse me i am going back inside to join the guys in their game. i'll let you finish your cigarette." she shifted so their bodies were finally apart and let out a sigh of irritation.

[peach-snzfkr]

I was trying to explain why snez is hot to my husband, so I pulled up the definition and oh my... Merriam-Webster, you dirty ho

[thevashta-narada]

A text I sent to my cousin who has never seen anything of les mis and does not know who grantaire and enjolras is but just knows I'm insane about it and them:

LIKE what do you MEAN he slept through the revolution only to awake to find enjolras is the only one left and to die holding his hand dying for a cause he didn't believe in because he believed in the man who led it akfjglslhsdlgjddvehkdkfdhdh

she said it kinda sounded like grantaire was in love with enjolras and she is very right about that

[varian212]

I came across your comment by accident, honestly. Over time, I’ve made it a habit not to follow too closely what’s being said online about the books I love; I know I’ll find opinions that will make me write way too much.

But that was my mistake, for checking the A Little Life tag. Foolish me, hoping someone had made some fan art or an interesting post. Instead, I stumbled upon what you wrote.

The following lines are not just for you but for everyone who shares your perspective. So take a seat, and don’t hesitate to respond with the same level of engagement that I’ve put into this.

I think you’re so absurd in your post, it’s almost worrying.

A Little Life is not just a book about homosexuals, Jude is not just a homosexual, and the story is not just about sexuality. It’s a book about people’s lives, with both good and bad stuff happening. And don't come here an say that there weren't any good moments, that'll only show me how your brain is fixed on one thing (hating the book) and it's blinded by everything else.

And welcome to Earth, where Hanya doesn’t need to make gay men suffer, that already happens. I invite you in Rusia for a weekend,do you know what would happen to you if,as a man,you'll walk on the streets wearing girly clothes or makeup? And I don't mean you'll get cat called; that's literally the best case scenario.

But your post only shows how privileged you are, how protected you are from what happens in this world. Turn on the TV, read articles, watch the news – do you think Hanya invented these kinds of monsters, these kinds of traumas? I assure you, no, she just wrote about them.

And what a strange thing, to bring up sexuality so much. Especially when a good part of Jude’s traumas happened when he was a child, then a teenager.

But your first concern is not "What the hell, how can she write about this kind of stuff happening to a child?" but "What the hell, this author has a fetish for gay people." As if, for you, it’s more important that Jude is gay than that he is human .

There are so many books like this but where the main characters are women and no one says anything. Guess we are already used to know about them getting raped,assaulted, beaten. Turns out it can happen to everybody.

Your empathy for gay people seems superficial, like the kind that’s only displayed on social media; never vocal in real life.

And you know what's even worse? Your audacity.

Let me tell you a little story : By chance, I am a volunteer for an organization called Save the Children.

Last week, a little girl was brought in, and I had to take care of her. Do you know what the problem was? Two soldiers entered her family house, destroyed everything, and raped her mother in front of her and her two younger brothers.

After her mother lost consciousness, they did the same to the little girl. And they did it so violently that she lost the ability to walk for the rest of her life. A few punches to the left side of her skull resulted in damage to the motor cortex, combined with strangulation, which led to hypoxic brain injuries. That’s all it takes.

I’m not saying this to shock you—I just want you to know that this is just one child out of millions of similar cases. Real life children,real life people.

Will anyone speak up about this? Probably not. Will the military court do anything about those soldiers? In the worst case, they’ll give them a few days off, and then they’ll go right back to doing the same thing.

Again, Hanya Yanagihara (cuz yeah,if you leave a hate comment,have the decency to write her name correctly) didn't invent shit. Those evil people are literally alive and well among us.

Now imagine I go to this child, look at her, and say, "You've been abused too much. What you've been through sounds dreamlike. It sounds like trauma porn, if I’m being honest."

Please read this paragraph again.

Do you see how it sounds? Do you realize how ignorant you are about everything that’s happening? How much comfort you have in your life?

Do you care so much about a woman who wrote about gay people? Why don’t I see you being just as vocal about men who have written about lesbians, white people writing about black people, healthy people writing about those with disabilities?

Why aren’t you just as disturbed by criminals writing about being victims?

Those things happen in real life too,and yet you are more concerned about a book.

Maybe this post will be read up to this point, and maybe it will wake up some of you privileged, upper-class white people commenting on your iPhone 16 Pro Max.

We don’t choose how we are born or what education we can afford up to a certain age, but at some point, it becomes our responsibility to educate ourselves.

Do you know what I do when I hate a book, an idea, or a movie? I learn absolutely everything about it. I get my information from five different sources to make sure it's reliable. I try to reason, to find opinions that contradict mine, as well as those that agree with me. In short, I become so familiar with every detail of what I'm trying to criticize that my arguments are as valid and verifiable as possible. That's what I call effort worth noticing.

If you're gonna be a heater at least pretend to be a smart one.

i could never read a little life, cus its a reminder that just like bi men in gay porn, women are infesting the whole niche of writing about gay male main characters and overrunning actual gay male writer who would love to write about actual gay male character and they also always use those gay male characters to punch down or project their own self. A little life is literally just a het woman writing about a gay man and putting him thru everything to the point it becomes just torture porn and for some even unbelievable to the point of being dreamlike. That writer (hana yanagihari) literally only writes about gay men who were raped in their childhood and suffered their whole life after, she literally wrote the same shit 3 times!!! 3!!!!! She is obsessed with having gay men suffer.

This is always a dead giveaway to me that someone doesn’t conceptualize gay men as actual people so their writing exposes them by showing how they use gay men as archetypes or plot devices to send a message or push an idea which sends me back to the heyes code cus thats their unknown undercover bible.

Like at its core there is no empathy towards gay men.