#angst got7

[mykoreanlove]

on being real

“I don’t want to date you anymore, Jackson.”

The silver fork he was holding in his left hand fell onto the marble floor, crashing the silence caused by your announcement. Jackson was visibly irritated, big frowns on his face.

“You… what? Why?”

For days you had been practicing this moment, imagining how you would explain your reasons and set him free. And even though you went over this moment hundreds of times, you were not prepared for the gravel pit of anxiety in your stomach. You didn’t do this because you didn’t want him, no. Your feelings were as strong as ever, but Jackson never opened up, he never let you take a look behind his porcelain façade. You decided to no longer waste your time with someone that only portrayed his good sides.

“I don’t feel like knowing you, Jackson. You only show me your good sides, you never share your problems with me. I just…”, you stumbled to find the right words.

“Say it, y/n”, he urged you with a serious tone.

“I feel like I’m dating a fake.”

Ouch, the pit grew bigger.

Jackson hid his face behind his hands, shielding himself from you. You didn’t think it would affect him that much, but his silent sobs gave him away.

“I’m sorry, Jackson.”

It didn’t take long for him to change into his real self, which you finally saw for the first time after months of dating. His eyes, always sparkly but never serene, turned dead, drained from life and love. You silently gasped, surprised to see the abyss behind the veil.

Jackson broke out in laughter as he wiped away his tears.

“Dating a fake, huh?”

Tears started to form in your eyes, seeing him like that broke your heart.

“What do you want to know, y/n? How broken I really am? You think you’re going to love that?”, he spat sarcastically.

You couldn’t answer, you didn’t dare to. Jackson took another sip of his drink, grimacing in pain.

“Shall we talk about my crippling depression, then? You want to know what that’s like? To lie awake every night wondering if this is the life I want, the one that I deserve? Shall we talk about the accompanying anxiety which is clouding my mind 24/7? Am I doing enough? Am I true to myself? Is this really who I am? Shall we talk about my sweaty hands and rapid heartbeat? Me wondering if I’m about to drop dead any minute? Is that it?”

He paused and observed you, not understanding the reason behind your tears.

“Or shall we talk about my health problems? Did you notice how badly I’m griding my teeth? Should I tell you that my jaw is tense as fuck and my teeth are overly sensitive? That drinking and eating anything but warm liquor is making me wince in pain? You think I’m this skinny because I’m on a diet? No, y/n, far from it. Should I tell you how frustrated I am because I have tried literally anything, and no one can help me? You wanna know what that’s like? To be helpless in your own body? To be betrayed by your own fucking body?”

Your eyes wandered to the glass in his hands, finally understanding why he was always drinking so much. Jackson started pacing through the room while bearing his darkest secrets.

“Or shall we talk about the people I’m seeing for help? Because I’ve seen them all, y/n. I searched through whole fucking Asia, and everybody is saying the same shit. It’s all in your head, Jackson. Do you know how fucked up that is? Neither antidepressants nor the shit for my teeth is helping me and you wanna know why? Because apparently, it’s in my head. My body is hurting because my soul is hurting. Isn’t that hilarious?”

Jackson spilled some of his liquor, trying to make a point.

“Or let’s not forget about my love life, y/n. You wanna know what that’s like? You wanna know how much energy it took to portray myself as normal? I wanted you to think of me as strong and healthy and full of life but now you’re breaking up with me because that was, what, fake? I did all of this so you would never realize how broken, fragile, and weak I am. But I guess that wasn’t the right way to go about it either.”

Another layer of sadness washed over his face, tinting his brown eyes in even deeper despair. Jackson took a seat on the couch and hid behind his hands again, wondering why he told you all of this if you were already over him.

He flinched in surprise as he felt your arms around him, hugging him tightly. For once he just gave in and hugged you back, crying silently in your embrace.

“Thank you for telling me, Jacky”, you whispered sweetly into his ear. “This is exactly what I wanted.”

He looked at you surprised, so you explained yourself.

“I fell in love with you because you were a real one. Standing in your truth and being true to who you are. That’s how I have always perceived you, anyways. But then when we started dating, and I never got to know that side of yours. You were too perfect, in a way. And I don’t want perfect. I want real, Jacky.”

His thumb brushed along your cheek, tracing down to your jaw.

“How could you possibly want that?”, his hoarse voice croaked.

You chuckled in response.

“I’m not perfect, Jackson. And I don’t want to be. Don’t you think I get depressed from time to time? We can cry together then. And yes, the thing with your teeth sucks. But I will love you even if you get new ones. And besides that, my teeth don’t hurt but my head does. Often, I get insufferable migraines and have to lie in a pitch-black room, I flinch at light like Dracula himself. Do you think I like that? No, but we all have something. You make it sound like you have to be perfect to be loved. But you don’t.”

The newfound spark in his eyes was noticeable, if only for a quick moment.

“I agree with the people you’ve been seeing, though. Your soul is hurting, Jackson. And that’s okay.”

You grabbed his hand and squeezed it lightly, looking at him hopeful.

“You don’t have to heal on your own though. I’d like to help… if you let me?”

[maskedcrawford]

Green Eyed Monster

G-Dragon x Reader x platonic! Jackson Wang

Summary: You and Jackson Wang get close through work and your ex isn't too keen on the fact that it looks like you've moved on.

Warnings: Some angst, fluff at the end.

A/N: Thank you to anon who requested, I got to try my hand at writing for Jackson Wang and I'm going to OPEN requests for him if you guys want something. Leave a like and/or a reblog if you enjoy! Much love <3

Requests are OPEN

You’re sitting in the makeup chair when you feel a pair of hands delicately touch your shoulders. You look up from your phone in the mirror and you see his big dark eyes and light brown hair in the mirror.

“Well, it took ya long enough, J,” you say with a teasing smile as you get up and hug him. You and Jackson Wang had been working together for the last 4 months on a song for your album and today you were shooting the video.

“Always a pleasure,” he says genuinely and returns your hug. Were you and Jackson together? No. Were there rumors about such things? Absolutely. The song being about love didn’t help matters. You guys had known each other briefly through mutual friends but when you had the idea for the song, you knew his vocals would take it to the next level.

“Jackson, Y/N!” the director shouts and you two spring into action with the video. The video itself was pretty intimate; the two of you on a bed tangled together in the sheets, touching, be all close and having no sense of personal space whatsoever. But, Jackson is a professional.

“So if I put my hand here,” he’s talking to the director and looks at you and you give him a nod before he touches your hip.

“And then I can slide it up like this,” he does the motion and pulls you closer to him.

“Yeah, that’ll work perfectly,” your director says and you roll with it.

“Let’s move on to the kiss,” the director announces after that scene. You blush as the time comes for the practical make out session that’s needed for the scene. Jackson was obviously cute, and him so being so respectful and kind? That only made it worse.

You can’t help the nervous laugh as you two are placed together and he starts smiling at you.

“You ok?” he asks genuinely, “We can figure something else out if we need to, find another way to,” you put your hand on his chest to stop him.

“I’m fine, seriously. Just don’t eat my face,” you wink at him with a chuckle. He gives you a gorgeous smile while shaking his head.

“Might be hard, you’re lookin extra good in that outfit,” he subtly looks you up and down. You two had a flirty relationship, but both of you knew it wouldn’t really go anywhere. The scene commences and you lock lips passionately and for a brief moment you forget its for a music video, that is until you hear the director call cut and you both slowly separate, a slight blush on both of your cheeks.

“That was great, guys. We’ll pick it up tomorrow!”

The video is done after a few days and the album dropped four months later. Your adventures continue with a world tour together, but tonight you were performing at the infamous MAMA awards. Since you two were doing a love song it was known that you would have to kiss for the sake of the performance.

“Look, people love us together,” you smile as you show him a picture you posted with a bunch of likes. He smiles as he clicks on the comments.

“This isn’t helping the dating rumors ya know,” he winks at you playfully and you roll your eyes.

“Us kissing every night doesn’t either, not to mention neither one of us have confirmed or denied anything. Besides, who we go out with really isn’t their business.”

“Ever since you made headlines with G-Dragon though, they think it is,” he corrects you.  You raise your eyebrows with a sigh that confirms he isn’t wrong.

You and Jiyong had been together 4 years, until the beginning of this year. Schedules got in the way, and Ji had admitted to kissing another woman at a party when he was drunk. It was a one-time thing and for a while you were able to move past it, but eventually, everything came crashing down.

“How could you still not trust me?” he shouted. You were in tears, your nerves were shot and honestly you didn’t want to have the argument.

“You were all over her, Ji. Tell me I’m lying! You kissed another woman before, it’s not like you couldn’t do that and more,” your voice was bitter and weak from tears.

“Oh my god, are you ever going to let it go?” he looked annoyed, he looked weak and desperate to escape the mistake that played through your mind more than you cared to admit. You loved him more than anything, more than life itself practically. But who was he to tell you how long it took to heal? Who was he to say that he atoned for what he did just because of a few ways he tried to make it up to you. Girls were constantly all over him so it wasn’t like he was in short supply. It had caused you to feel insecure, regardless of whether or not he was drunk.

The two of you stayed silent, deafeningly silent, until Ji finally sighs and rubs his temple with his fingers.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he mumbles, “I can’t keep paying for this when I think I’ve proven I’m not that person,” his eyes are cold, depleted of life. It broke him to do this, but he didn’t see any other way.

“We’re done,” he said before walking out of your house with nothing more than a kiss to the forehead.

“Earth to Y/N,” Jackson calls out and you shake your head pulling yourself out of the intense flashback.

“Huh, oh, sorry,” you sheepishly rub the back of your neck.

“Let’s practice one more time,” he takes your hand helping you stand up.

“Ji, have you seen this?” Taeyang was over at his house and pulled up the love song you and Jackson put out.

“Hmm?” he glances away from his phone and furrows his brows at the video. He see’s the two of you kiss on screen and he feels, that pang of jealousy. He’s seen the video before, he seen it the day it came out, actually. But he didn’t tell anyone. He didn’t want to think of it.

He hadn’t seen you since that night, not in person anyway. On TV shows and award ceremonies, he would watch, quietly support you and your career, even liking the first picture or two you posted of you and Jackson.

“They are performing tonight at the MAMA awards, so you’ll probably get to see her,” Taeyang calls out as he heads to the kitchen.

“She’s going to be there?” His voice is rushed, excited almost.

“Yup, we better go too, we’ll be late.”

You and Jackson are at the venue preparing for the show, hitting the choreography perfectly multiple times.

“OK, we gotta get dressed,” you say as you two come out of each other’s embrace

“We got this in the bag,” you both high five and he brings you in for a hug.

“You should really layer a little more deodorant,” you say with a giggle. He sniffs his shirt and makes a twisted face.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he laughs as he jogs off stage. As you walk off to go to the dressing room you stop as your breath hitches in your throat.

Ji-yong laughs as he feels someone stop and stare, he looks away from his manager and he spots you. His smile fades as he takes in your shocked face.

It’s still as beautiful as the first day he met you. He gives you a small wave and smile and you can’t move. His gaze is friendly and lingers for a moment. He starts to walk towards you, until he see’s Jackson come up behind you with his hand resting on your back. You look up at him directly and he can see the smile on your face when you look at him.

He feels the aching jealousy well up inside him but he pushes it down. You nod your head at something he says, and Jackson flits his gaze to Ji before giving a pursed lip smile and dragging you off with him in another direction.

“What could she possibly see in him?” Ji yong asks out loud not really expecting an answer.

“Hyung, did you really think she wouldn’t,” Ji-yong shoots Taeyang a glare, “Move on?” he finishes carefully.

“It’s been 8 months,” he tries to be gentle with Ji’s feelings, but the sting is too much. Jackson Wang was in a place he was supposed to be in. One he’d still be in most likely if he hadn’t of screwed up.

“Still fucking stings,” he grumbles. Taeyang sighs and gives his friend a hug.

“You both,” he pulls back and looks his friend in the face, “Need to move on. It’s time.” He tries to encourage him, tries to show him it’s healthy to move on, but the way Ji-yong loved you, despite his mistake, he was sure he’d never love anyone the same way.

“It’s not that easy, hyung.” He sighs as he sits down for the stylist to do his hair.

“She was everything, my muse, my rock, my reason for breathing. There were days I only got out of bed because I knew I would see her and that it would help make my day better,” he remembers fond memories as he talks to Taeyang about you. One of you and him riding the ferries wheel and getting stuck on top, that’s where your fist kiss was. When you accidently spilled ice cream on your top and he gave you jacket to cover it. When you’d both grow bored at parties after a little while and want to leave to just spend quiet time at home. He missed the way your touch made him feel like everything would work out, the way you made him feel like he was enough for exactly who he was. He sighs as he finishes getting ready for the show.

“Ok, are you ready for this?” Jackson asks you with anticipation.

“Absolutely, just don’t kiss me with tongue tonight,” you swat his arm and he laughs.

“No promises,” he winks and kisses your temple. You both get into position and the song starts as the lights go up. You follow the normal dance routine, spinning and swaying your hips to the beat, and kissing at the end of the song.

As the song is performed Ji can’t help but watch from the side of the stage, the way your body moves so gracefully and how it fits to Jackson’s so well when he had to wrap his arms around you, but it wasn’t the perfect way it fit Ji-yong’s. No, your body wouldn’t fit to anyone else’s the way it did his. He noticed the happy smile on your face, only noticing it falter when your eyes locked as you look his way.

The song ends and the lights go back down. You and him rush off stage and as soon as you are out of view you jump into his arms, adrenaline running high. He catches you with a huge smile on his face and he kisses your cheek sweetly. Ji-yong watches just off to the side and he rolls his eyes. He walks past you and you catch him out of the corner of your eye, his face deadpan.

You stay to the side of the stage to watch him perform. As he looks off to the side, he catches you watching, swaying your body to the music and nodding your head. He gives a half smile your way and you return one. His performance ends and he runs off stage he takes his mic off and before he can run to you, Jackson once again is in the place he wants to be, by your side.

“So, I was thinking, we could go down to the club and celebrate,” Jackson’s excited nature was infectious.

“Yeah, that sounds great,” you glance at Ji-yong who’s giving you a glare again and you furrow your brows at him.

“We’ll leave in a few, get changed!” He runs off to get his stuff together and you go to walk off, but before you can you feel a hand around your wrist pulling you back. You look back and see it’s Ji-yong who has an unreadable expression on his face. You look at each other for a moment.

“I really need to talk to you,” he pleads.

“I,” you look in the direction Jackson went and back at Ji who looks slightly hopeful you’ll stay.

“I can’t,” you say tearing your arm away. He lets you go and for a moment lets you walk away before following you.

“Y/n,” he catches the door to your room. You look over at him, he still takes your breath away, the way his hair clings to his forehead from the sweat, the way he looks at you with his dark eyes, the way his clothes somewhat soaked with sweat cling to his body.

“What, Ji? I have somewhere to be, Jackson isn’t going to wait on me forever,” he scoffs and looks off to the side, mumbling something to himself.

“You want to share with the rest of the class,” you sass him.

“Not really,” he sasses back. You roll your eyes.

“I’m changing so at least shut the door. He walks in and shuts it.

“I meant with you on the other side of it,” you shoot him a glare of annoyance.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen, held or tasted before,” he smirks and you roll your eyes with a sharp exhale.

“Whatever,” you pull your top off your head and his eyes go directly to your body, not in a sensual, sexual way, but in a way that he’s curious. He notices you’ve put on a just little weight in the last 8 months and you instinctively wrap your arms around your torso.

“Can you not, stare,” you pause looking away from him, “at me,” you hear his footsteps come closer and he lifts your chin with his thumb and index finger.

“You’re beautiful,” he slowly reaches for your arms to pull them away and he’s inches from your face.

“Ji-yong,” you put a hand on his chest pushing him back slightly. His eyes flash with hurt before he recovers.

“Be honest with me,” he says standing back further as you find a different shirt. While you’re slipping it over your head you hear him ask, “Does he touch you better than I did?”

“What? Who?!” You all but shriek.

“Your little fling,” he motions his hand as you pull the shirt over your head you take off your pants next and put on some comfortable leggings.

“What ‘fling’,” you ask bewildered by his audacity. He rolls his eyes, saying his name makes him feel ill.

“Your little affair with Jackson Wang, y/n, I know about it, and so does the rest of the world, besides with the way you were sucking face out there, you don’t try to hide it.” You can see his jealousy and you quirk a brow at him. You decide to have a little fun at his expense. After all if he’s going to be nosy and a jerk at the same time, why not have a little fun.

“What Jackson and I are, or aren’t,” you pause and stare at him directly into his eyes, “doing is none of your concern. You left me, Ji, who I’m with now is none of your business.” You strap on a pair of sandals and walk out the door leaving him standing there.

“Jackson,” you call out and race to him. You can feel Ji-yong watching you so you slip your hand in Jackson’s as you walk off.

At the club the music is loud and the drinks are good, but you start to let your mind wonder back to your ex-boyfriend.

“What are you thinking about,” Jackson yells over the music as he see’s you staring into space.

“Ji-yong,” you huff.

“He nods his head understandably. He heard about all of it, multiple times, and he knew you still loved him.

“You wanna dance?” His offer is intriguing and you decide it’s better than sitting there thinking of the guy who broke up with you. As you and Jackson dance you happen to look over your shoulder and see that face that makes your knees weak.

“Holy shit,” you yell and Jackson notices your body tense as he looks at you concerned.

“What?” you point to Ji-yong as the answer to his question.

“Go talk to him.” He tries to push you forward.

“No, he was a dick.” You pout. He nods and walks over to Ji-yong for you. You watch as he gets closer, and even buys your ex a drink.

“Listen, man, I don’t know what you’ve been told, but me and your girl,” you see him gesture to you, “We ain’t together.” He throws back a shot and so does Ji.

“She isn’t ‘my girl’,” he corrects solemnly.

“Could’ve fooled me. She talks about you constantly,” he chuckles and Ji-yong quirks his brow. Jackson knew you’d either thank him or kill him for this, but he wasn’t worried about that right now.

“She does?” he looks over to you, seeing you dance alone.

“Oh yeah, how bad she misses you, wishes things would’ve been different.” He nods his head and looks down at the bar.

“So what’s with the rumors and the kiss and,” Jackson nods interrupting him.

“We did the song together and just became close friends. As far as the kiss, management thought it’d be good for the song if we kissed like in the video. We’re completely platonic though.” He downs another shot, Ji-yong decides not to, he wants his head clear when talks to you.

“Go get her, man,” he encourages and Ji-yong nods his head as he makes his way to you. He slides in behind you while you dance and the intimate smell of cologne and cigarettes wafts to your nostrils. You feel his hand on your hips as he moves with you.

“Can we talk,” he asks in your ear and you just keep dancing, ignoring his words but not his touch, you bring his hands around your torso so he encapsulates you.

“Jagiya,” his voice is soft, sultry even, and once the music ends you sigh and turn to face him.

“Can I please talk to you,” you see Jackson at the bar smirking at you. You give him a half smile as you find an area in the club away from all the people.

“What is it,” you don’t know how else to ask.

“I miss you,” he’s straight to the point and you didn’t expect that.

“Ji,” you sigh.

“Look, I wasn’t planning on telling you, but I seen you with him tonight and I hated it. He had you the way I should, the way I did.” He steps closer to you; you back up hitting the wall. He closes the space, your mouths just inches apart. He’s intoxicating, the way he looks at you, smells, and just the feeling of his body near yours is electric.

“He kissed you the way I did, the way I still want to,” he mumbles as he caresses your cheek.

“Not really,” you utter barely above a whisper.

“Hmm,” he asks like he doesn’t understand.

“He didn’t,” you look into his dark, beautiful eyes, “kiss me the way you did. It wasn’t the same passion or love. It wasn’t the same feeling I got with you.” You feel your cheeks blush as you confess to him.

“His touch,” you runs your hands over his arms that are locked onto your hips now,“Isn’t the same. Its not as electrifying.” You look at him through your lashes.

He looks relieved.

“So, you really aren’t with him?” you shake your head no.

You bring your forehead to his and whisper to him, “I’m not with anyone, I’m yours Ji-yong, I always have been,” and before any other words can be said his lips are on yours, smoothly moving in sync and he pulls your impossibly closer as you fist his shirt.

“Aegiya,” he practically whimpers when you separate.

“I need you to come home.” You smile at his confession.

“Promise me something,” you say cautiously.

“Anything,” his desperate eyes search yours.

“You’ll give us time to rebuild trust and be patient with me,” you’re asking more than telling.

“As long as you want to trust me again, I’ll prove you can.” He smiles.

“Then lets get out of here,” you grin as he takes your hand and leads you out of the club.

If you enjoyed consider buying me a coffee

[spacequokka]

Stars Collide

Pairing: King!Jinyoung x Chef!reader Genre: Royalty AU, Angst Rating: PG-13 Summary: When faced with your departure, Jinyoung puts his foot down once and for all. Word Count: 1.3k Warnings: None

A/N: recommending you vs them as we welcome grumpy cat home!

“Say that again,” Jinyoung commanded, voice low and even. The servant stuttered out the words, biting his tongue in the process. Jinyoung dropped his silverware and pushed away from the table, pulling the napkin tucked in his collar free and dropping it on the floor. “Like hell she is. Not without talking to me first.”

He blew down the hallway to the kitchen like a tropical storm, bumping into furniture and frightening the piss out of anyone in his way. Sure, they’d all seen his wrath before, but nothing like this. Behind his fury was something deeper and much more terrifying: fear.

He burst into the kitchen with a bang as the doors hit the wall. “What the hell do you mean you’re leaving?” All eyes turned to his except the pair he spoke to. “The last time I checked, all employment and termination decisions went through the king.”

You sighed and turned away from the sink, abandoning the pot you used to cook the last meal you’d prepare in the castle. It was a sentimental, menial task that you’d hoped you’d be able to get through without tears. “Your Majesty, you deserve better. Someone with more talent and knowledge of nutrition. I’ve arranged for a new head chef—”

“EVERYBODY OUT.” Jinyoung bellowed. Metal clinked and feet scuffled over the ceramic floor as the help scurried away. Some even glanced at you, convinced it was the last time they’d see you alive. When the door shut behind the last person, Jinyoung drew in a shaky breath and spoke with an eerie calmness. “Who gave you the permission to make such a bold decision?”

You swallowed and cleared your throat. “I am confident it’s for the best. I meant no disrespect—”

“Of course you did.” He stalked closer, taking his time as he spoke. “You deliberately kept me in the dark. Everyone must know but me, right?”

You instinctively backed away, but he kept advancing until your back hit the counter’s edge. “I knew you’d try to stop me. Your Majesty, with your engagement to the princess—”

“How many times do I have to tell you I have no interest in marrying her?” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I don’t care what the council says, I choose who I marry. If anyone’s walking down that aisle with me, it’ll be you.”

“Your Majesty, please.”

“Stop calling me that. I hate it when you talk to me like that.”

You huffed and tried again. “Jinyoung. They’ll overthrow you and choose someone who doesn’t care for the kingdom or its people. And you could do a lot worse than her.”

He paused, his dark eyes searching yours for a moment that stretched into eternity. “She doesn’t care for me as a person. She only sees the crown and the status. I’d rather chew my arm off than spend one night in bed with her. But you, I’d give everything I own just to wake up with you in my arms once. I’d even give my life—” He cut off, the words choking in his throat as he struggled to maintain his composure.

You pressed your lips together, feeling the cold press of the counter digging into your back. “It’s not about how we feel, it’s about what’s necessary. Your kingdom needs stability, an alliance that marriage to the princess will provide.”

Jinyoung ran a hand through his tousled hair, a gesture laced with frustration and desperation. “Damn it, _____! Since when did you start caring more about politics than—than us?” His voice cracked.

You felt a twinge of pain at his words, knowing how deeply intertwined both your lives had become since those forbidden meetings began, sharing secret glances across crowded rooms long before rumors of betrothal ever surfaced. “It’s always been about us,” you replied softly, earnestly. “But can there be an ‘us’ if everything you’ve worked for falls apart? If everyone turns against you?”

He was silent for a long moment before he stepped closer again, this time with a gentle caution. He lifted his hand, hesitated, and then placed it gently against your cheek. “They can turn every stone in the kingdom against me if they wish,” he murmured, “but if losing you is the price of this crown, then it weighs too much already.”

Your breath hitched as his thumb traced the line of your jaw, a feather-light touch that could almost make you forget the gravity of the conversation. “Jinyoung, you can’t… we can’t not consider the consequences. Your throne, the welfare of your people…”

He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips as if amused by a thought known only to him. “My heart knows no subjects like it knows you. How can I lead a kingdom when its king is fractured into his own regrets? I need to be whole; you make me whole.”

The words had the soft lilt of poetry, but they hung heavy in between the two of you. How could love and duty weigh so unevenly on the scales of a ruler’s life? But then, out past the aisles of power, away from cloaked discussions and strategic alliances, it was simply you and him.

“But there is a reality beyond what we want,” you managed to say, though your voice came out hushed against the fervor in his eyes. “If wishing made it so, Jinyoung—”

“Let’s wish then,” he interrupted fiercely. “Let’s wish and work for it. Challenge conventions, change the course. I’ll talk to my council, turn around every stone until they see you—as I see you—not just as a chef or a commoner, but as my queen.”

Your heart fluttered dangerously at such declarations—a mix of dread and exhilaration pumping through your veins. “And if it turns against us? What then?” You knew this wasn’t simply about defying norms; it was about steering an entire kingdom through turbulent waters, potentially creating rifts where there had been none before.

Jinyoung’s eyes darkened with resolve, his grip tightening comfortingly on your shoulder. “Then we battle those tides together,” he declared staunchly. “We face every challenge as one. If the council resists, if the nobles object—they must see that my decisions are for the kingdom’s true good. And nothing is good for me—or for this kingdom—if it tears me away from you.”

The raw honesty in his voice sent shivers through you. Here was a man who would stake all he had for his heart’s cause, even if it meant upheaval in realms beyond imagining. But could love truly conquer all—even a kingdom fraught with ancient traditions and powerful adversaries?

“Jinyoung,” you started, your voice laden with an ache of longing and fear, “I want to believe we can do this. But history is littered with tales of kings and queens who succumbed to personal desires at the expense of their thrones. Are we prepared to be a tale of caution or of victory? How can we ensure our story won’t be etched in tragedy?”

He let out a breathy laugh, partly bitter, partly hopeful. “Our story,” he said contemplatively, as if savoring each syllable, “will be one we write each day, intricately intertwined with love and bold enough to imprint on the sands of history not as caution but as legend.”

Your eyes welled up at the sincere ambition in his words—a vision so grand it could indeed either bind or devastate an empire. His fingers brushed away a tear. In his eyes, you saw hope, strength, and love. If he was willing to risk it all for you, shouldn’t you reward him with your faith, commitment, and trust? You found yourself nodding, smiling through your tears, both to him and your own unspoken question.

“Then I’ll stand beside you every step of the way.”

[kathaelipwse]

Oops... Did I Just Confess? | GOT7

Theme: An accident confession {Texts & Tweets}

Requested by: @canigotosleep--plz

Warnings: Fluff, on crack, unserious, funny, gn!reader, Non-Idol!GOT7

Word Count: 0.7k

☀️ Mark – "The Late-Night Oops"

↳ Text Messages

[You]: Ugh, Mark, I think I have a crush on someone 😩

[Mark]: Yeah, but they’re not me.

[You]: … HUH???

[Mark]: WAIT I DIDN’T MEAN TO SAY THAT

[Mark]: PRETEND YOU DIDN’T SEE THAT

[You]: Too late. You got some explaining to do, mister 👀

[Mark]: … I hate myself.

☀️ Jaebum – "Drunk and in Love"

↳ Text Messages [The next morning after the drunk confession]

[You]: Good morning, sleepyhead

[Jaebum]: Morning.

[You]: Do you remember what you said last night?

[Jaebum]: No… why?

[You]: You said "Love you" before knocking out.

[Jaebum]: …

[Jaebum]: Lemme just… erase myself from the planet real quick.

[You]: Sooo, was that an accident or should I say "I love you too"?

[Jaebum]: … I’m never speaking again.

☀️ Jackson – "Dramatic and Down Bad"

↳ Tweet on the friends group community

@ JacksonWang852: Y’all ever accidentally confess your love in the middle of a joke and then wanna delete yourself from existence??? Asking for a friend.

~ Replies: → @ You: OH SO NOW YOU WANNA ASK FOR ADVICE? → @ BamBam1A: Bro you did this to yourself lmaooo → @ Jinyoung: This is why you think before you speak. → @ You: Anyways, you love me, huh? 👀

@ JacksonWang852: NO ONE TALK TO ME EVER AGAIN.

☀️ Jinyoung – "He Really Thought He Was Subtle"

↳ Text Message

[You]: Did you really just say "I like you" in the middle of roasting me???

[Jinyoung]: … I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.

[You]: Sir. I am SCREAMING.

[Jinyoung]: Can you scream elsewhere. This is embarrassing.

[You]: Nah, I’m framing this convo. You like meeee 😌

[Jinyoung]: I regret everything.

☀️ Youngjae – "The Text That Changed Everything"

↳ Text Message

[Youngjae] → (accidentally sends "I love you" to you instead of his mom)

[You]: …Wait what.

[Youngjae]: HOLY SH— I DIDN’T MEAN TO SEND THAT TO YOU 😭😭😭

[You]: LMAOOO SO WHO WERE YOU TRYING TO SAY IT TO HUH???

[Youngjae]: MY MOM!! OMG STOP BULLYING ME!!

[You]: Soo… you don’t love me?

[Youngjae]: WAIT WAIT WAIT. I DO. I MEAN. I DIDN’T WANNA SAY IT LIKE THIS BUT YES. I DO.

☀️ BamBam – “The Dare That Backfired”

↳ Tweet

@ BamBam1A: Dating is so easy. Y’all just scared. 😌

~ Replies: → @ You: OH? If it’s so easy, then date me. → @ BamBam1A: LMAO bet. 🤣

5 minutes later…

@ BamBam1A: WAIT WAIT WAIT HOLD ON—

→ @ You: Nah, you said bet. We’re dating now, babe. ❤️😘 → @ MarkTuan: This is the dumbest way to start a relationship. I support it. → @ Jinyoung: This is embarrassing. → @ BamBam1A: So y/n you like me? Wow okay. → @ You: Why? Do you not? It would be a lie if you say no, honey. All know how you look at me. → @ BamBam1A: Fine, I love you Mrs. Bhuwakul. → @ JacksonWang852: Y’ALL ARE DATING NOW??? LMAO I’M SCREAMING

☀️ Yugyeom – "He Thought You Knew"

↳ Text Message

[You]: I just wish someone would like me already. Date's are exhausting!!

[Yugyeom]: What do you mean? I’ve liked you forever.

[You]: …EXCUSE ME???

[Yugyeom]: Wait.

[Yugyeom]: I THOUGHT YOU KNEW.

[You]: SIR, HOW WOULD I HAVE KNOWN??

[Yugyeom]: IDK I THOUGHT IT WAS OBVIOUS??? OMG THIS IS EMBARRASSING.

[You]: NO NO COME BACK, LET’S DISCUSS YOUR LOVE FOR ME.

[nanaskura]

HARDEST TO LOVE; P.JY

pairing - jinyoung x gn!reader genre - angst, divorce au word count - 1.6k warnings - its just pure angst, re-written and adapted from an nct fic on my original blog summary - in the legal battleground of the mediation room, what is there left between two people when theyve already taken everything from each other

The clock on the wall ticks down the minutes with irritating regularity. It cuts through the clinical silence of the lawyers office and plucks at your last, frayed nerve with every single second that passes. You wonder briefly if it had been hung up there on purpose–if the lawyers knew what effect it had on the minds of those trapped in this small, wood-panelled room. That the ever present reminder of time passing by outside as they painfully itemize their lives might chip away at their resolve to fight over the minutiae of each asset and contract. 

You refused to be worn down by a mere timepiece. If anything, every click only served to sharpen your determination to a fine point. 

You glance over at your lawyer–a man freshly made partner in the firm and eager to please both his clients and colleagues–and decide that while he might look absolutely ridiculous in his bright purple tie, he was at least firmly on your side. All of his schooling, knowledge, and attention bought and paid for to get you exactly what you came here for. To serve you to the final signing of the paperwork. He was here entirely for you. Unlike the man sitting across the broad expanse of the mahogany table; head bowed in hushed whispers with his own lawyer. The man who had sworn, through thinly veiled tears at the altar, to love and care for you until death do you part. 

They just never said that it would be the death of love that would part you. 

‘No,’ you think, straightening your posture in your chair and folding your hands over the cold wood of the mediating table. ‘I fought for nothing in that relationship. Like hell am I giving in now.’ 

“I want the house,” you state, voice firm and unwavering. It elicits you the exact response you had come to expect every time you tried to assert your right over something during your divorce proceedings. A scoff. 

Jinyoung levels you with a glare, ink dark eyes cold and unforgiving. An expression you always knew he was capable of, you had just never thought it would be turned against you. “I paid for that house,” he rebuts, leaning forward in a show of intimidation. 

“You paid for half of that house,” you try to keep your voice calm–level–but the wavering at the edges of the words betrays the emotion behind it. The turmoil of sadness and anger boiling inside of your chest as you sit across from your soon-to-be ex-husband. “I made it a home. It’s mine.” 

You can tell he’s fighting a grimace. The edges of his lips twitch under the glare of the fluorescent lights overhead, and you’re glad he’s feeling something. Even if that something was annoyance. It was still more emotion than you had seen from him in at least a year–maybe even longer. He kept everything locked tight in the vault of his heart. But here, flayed open under the constant ticking of the long hours that have passed between you, you can see the layers peeling back. Unwrapping the man you used to know as he sits before you like a gift that you never asked for. 

Maybe that’s what the clock was for, after all.

He leans away, turns back towards his lawyer and you watch; eyes trained on his face as he whispers something to the bespeckled man. The lawyer nods, clears his throat, and stands, “why don’t we take a small break and return to the discussion of property division afterwards.” 

Your lawyer glances at you, unsure but eager to stretch his legs and shed himself of the shroud of tension that has blanketed everyone in the room. You nod your assent and watch the wave of relief fall over his face as he stands and ushers you out of the room ahead of Jinyoung. 

As soon as you step into the hallway you feel everything crash down on you at once. 

A bench off to the side in the hallway catches you as you crumple on to it, weighed down by years of sadness and grief as the anger and tension of that small, unsympathetic room dissolves into the background. ‘How did we get here?’ you think to yourself, leaning back against the beige wall and inhaling a deep, shaking breath. 

As you have nearly every night for the past four months since the process of separation began, you go through your catalogue of memories. Blissful memories of the proposal, of your wedding. Jinyoung’s eyes shining with light–bright and brown and full of love reflecting onto you as you stood before him promising your heart–not tinged with disdain. Blackened by the deep well of his own anger.  

Years spent building your life together. A carousel of friends, parties, the occasional trip overseas to clear the mind and renew the love. Years slowly marred by the pressures of work and the changes blossoming in each of you. You grew as people, but you grew apart. 

A light buzzing emits from your purse and you fumble around with a clumsy hand to retrieve your phone before the call drops, “hello?” 

“How’s it going? Almost done?” Sooyoung’s bright voice wraps around you like a hug you didn’t know you needed and you sink into it, grateful for her friendship through everything. 

“Not even close,” you shake your head with a small, mirthless laugh. “You know how he is.” 

“Stubborn as an ox,” you can picture her on the other end of the line nodding emphatically and it makes you ache to be anywhere but here in this dingy hallway of the law firm. “How are you feeling?” 

“Just,” you sigh, “tired. I don’t want to do this, Sooyoung.” 

“I know, but you can’t just let him have everything. Half of you is in that house, as well. He was never home anyway, so what’s got his panties in a bunch over it?” 

“Beats me,” you laugh, the brief moment of levity renewing your spirits. 

“Okay, well we’re going out for drinks later, you need to get drunk,” she asserts and you hum in agreement. “ Love you, call me when you’re done.”

“I will.”

 “Be sure to tell Jinyoung I hate him.” The call ends and you’re left alone again, waiting to reconvene. 

The bench groans under the weight of another person, and you glance to your side to see Jinyoung taking a seat next to you–head buried in his phone. A swirling of emotions–anger, sadness, grief–all coalesce in your stomach at the sight. All clouded and encapsulated by an overwhelming numbness. 

There was a time when you would have sought solace in him, and it seems distantly strange to you that now you are finding yourself having to seek solace from him. A feeling that has not become easier to live with even as the months have passed you by. 

His dark hair obscures his eyes from view as he leans forward, elbows on his knees, and types furiously on his phone. His fingers clack against the screen before he hits send on the message and slips his phone back into his pocket–not once sparing even a cursory glance towards you. Your hands itch to touch him, that old familiar ache of wanting to slip your hands in his and have him comfort you. To have him silently soothe away the creases of worry from your brow. But that comfort is lost to the past and you still your hands atop your thighs instead. 

“When did we start hating each other?” The question comes unbidden, but you can’t take it back once it’s been said. It hangs there in the thick air between you, finally calling Jinyoung’s attention to you next to him on the bench. 

“I don’t hate you,” his eyebrows raise in shock at the question. You look at him, eyes searching for any sign of the man you married. You think you see him, for a moment. Buried deep underneath the hardened layers of his defenses built up brick by brick over the years.  Through the veil of heartbreak shines the fading glimmer of the love once shared between you. “Do you hate me?” he asks, voice a mere whisper–almost lost to the dense silence of the hallway. You freeze at the sound, at the vulnerability he always tried so hard to hide seeping out through those four words. 

Out of the corner of your eye you see your lawyer beckoning you back towards the mediating room, waving you over with a tentative smile. You sigh, gathering your bag and pushing yourself off the bench, “I don’t hate you,” Jinyoung deflates further, sinking into himself at your admission. Maybe it was easier to think that you did. That there was a reason for all of this, in the same way you hoped for. “I’m just tired.” 

The thick wood door shuts again, trapping you back in those four walls. A room drenched in the sadness of abandoned hopes and dreams. Your lawyer leans forward in his seat, shuffling a stack of papers, and clears his throat, “so my client is requesting to take full ownership of the shared home, at their own exp–”

“They can have it,” Jinyoung’s voice cuts through the prepared speech and you look up at him in shock. 

“What?” 

“You can have the house,” he locks eyes with you and you feel the room disappear. The dark wood panels, the fluorescent lights, your lawyers, the incessant ticking of the clock on the wall–everything. It all fades into nothingness until it’s just you and him. 

Just the way you were on your first date. Your first kiss. Your wedding day. Two people who once shared their present, still tethered to each other through their past. 

You look at him and you understand–it was never you versus him.

“Thank you,” you mouth the words, feeling the tension ease–releasing its vice grip on your throat–and you hope he can feel how much you mean it.

[baejl]

playing soldier

red velvet 6th member au / superm 8th member au

jaebeom spends his first weekend back home after enlisting and jaein has a sudden reaction

WARNINGS: angst - this is my first angst afte a while, hope you guys like it.

masterlist 🦋 requests are open feedback is always important to me!

When Jaein's pregnancy came out to the public, everyone would ask her the same thing: how'd she balance the idol-mom-wife routine? 

And, as expected, Jaein avoided that question as much as she could. Mainly because she didn't have to worry about it.

Everything was already settled with SM and, as for the 'wife' part, well, it wasn't like she wasn't already spending most of her days at Jaebeom's house, living a married life during the weekends. 

But, the girl forgot about one small detail: Jaebeom's enlistment. 

Jaein knew his compromise to the nation. After all, he was a citizen just like any other Korean man. But, gosh, that was hard! - especially when you have a six-month-old baby and is starting the preparations for a comeback.

Luckily, she had a huge network: her family, members, and some nannies she'd eventually hire when things were too intense - the latter being dismissed after some photos and data of John were leaked 'suddenly'. 

However, Jaein missed her husband. More than his father figure, she missed not being in charge all the time and having some time to just be his girl, turning her brain off of the world, not caring about a single thing but when they were going to cuddle again. 

The loud crying in the living room brought Jaein back to reality. Her days were a chaotic blur of toddler tantrums, sleepless nights, grueling rehearsals, outfits fitting, late-night studio sessions... Jaebeom had now enlisted a few months ago, leaving her to handle everything on her own. 

While she prided herself on being independent, the pressure was beginning to crack her. She could feel it. 

When Jaebeom finally called her after a whole week, telling her he'd be having the weekend off, she felt like she had just won the lottery. He came home to John already starting to babble something like "dad" and toddling into his arms. 

With that, for the first time in weeks, Jaein allowed herself to exhale. The love of her life was home, even if just for a weekend. 

But, as the day went on, instead of feeling relieved, Jaein found herself growing more and more irritable. Watching Jaebeom lounge on the couch, playing with John while she scrambled to prepare lunch, clean up toys, and mentally rehearse the choreography she was supposed to practice the next day, a storm began brewing inside her.

By the time John went down for his nap, the apartment was eerily quiet, but inside Jaein’s head, the noise was deafening. Her chest felt tight, her mind racing with everything she had to do—dinner to prepare, choreography to rehearse, emails from SM to answer, and the persistent guilt of wondering if John felt neglected. 

She glanced over at Jaebeom, who was lying on the couch scrolling through his phone, a small smile tugging at his lips as he watched a funny video.

And something inside her snapped.

She slammed the kitchen cabinet shut, the sound cutting through the silence like a whip. 

Jaebeom glanced up, startled.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, his tone casual, almost dismissive.

Jaein turned, glaring at him. 

"What’s wrong? Seriously, Jaebeom? Look at me!” she raised her voice. “I’m running myself into the ground trying to keep this family afloat, and you’re just sitting there, scrolling through your phone like you don’t have a care in the world."

Jaebeom blinked, sitting up. 

"Whoa, where is this coming from?” he chuckled, nervously. “I just got back, Jaein. Can I not have a moment to relax?"

"A moment to relax?" Jaein repeated, already screaming at this point.. "Do you know what I would give for a moment to relax? I can’t even sit down without thinking about the million things I still need to do! I’ve been doing this alone for months, Jaebeom. Months! And the second you come home, you act like you’re some guest here instead of John’s father or my partner." 

Jaebeom’s jaw tightened. 

"That’s not fair. You know I’d be here if I could." 

"Would you?" Jaein shot back, her voice trembling with anger. "Because it doesn’t feel like it. It feels like you’ve checked out like you’ve accepted that this is my problem to deal with while you’re out there, playing soldier for the next two years." 

"Playing soldier?" Jaebeom’s voice dropped, low and hurtful.. He stood, his height towering over her, but she didn’t back down. She trusted him enough to know he wouldn’t do anything else. "Do you have any idea what it’s like for me over there? To wake up at 5 a.m. every day, march for hours, follow orders, and not even have the freedom to come home when I want? Do you think I’m on some vacation?" 

"Well, I think you’re lucky!” Jaein yelled, her voice cracking. "You get to focus on one thing. Just one thing! You don’t have to juggle a screaming toddler, a demanding career, and a house that always feels like it’s falling apart. You don’t have to wonder if your son feels abandoned because you’re too busy performing for the world to read him a bedtime story!" 

"Don’t you dare!” he debated. “Don’t you dare act like I don’t care about John. I love him as much as you do."

"Then show it!" Jaein cried, tears streaming down her face now. "Because all I see is you coming home, taking the easy moments, and leaving me to deal with everything else. Do you think loving him is enough? It’s not. He needs you here. I need you here."

Jaebeom’s jaw tightened, his voice low but firm. 

"Don’t say I don’t see it, Jaein. I see how hard you’re working, and I admire you for it. But you’re acting like I don’t care, like I’m not sacrificing anything. I miss John too. I miss you. Do you know how much it kills me to not be here for you, to not be here for our son?" 

"Then why does it feel like I’m doing this alone?" she shot back, her voice trembling with anger and hurt. "Why does it feel like I’m trying and trying and trying, and you’re just... watching?" 

Jaebeom’s eyes flared. 

"Because I don’t know how to help you when you won’t even let me in! You keep everything bottled up, and then you explode like this. I can’t fix it if you won’t tell me what you need."

"I need you!" she shouted, her voice echoing through the apartment. "I need you to be here! I need you to take some of this weight off my shoulders because I can’t carry it all by myself anymore!" 

Her words hung in the air, the silence that followed deafening. Jaein’s chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, tears streaming down her face. Jaebeom looked at her, his expression softening as he saw just how much pain she was in.

Jaein followed her way to John's room, not really caring about Jaebeom calling her name. She had to calm herself, otherwise, she'd say even more things she'd absolutely regret later.

She didn't even know why she went to John's room. That was like her safe place. A place where she could just forget about all the problems in the world and focus on the most precious person in the world: her son. John had become her anchor in the chaos, a tiny person who didn’t care about schedules, criticisms, or the burdens she carried. He only cared that she was there. 

Stroking his soft hair, Jaein felt an overwhelming mix of love and guilt.  A perfect mix of two people that were truly, madly, deeply in love with each other. Although people would say John was the spitting image of her, Jaein couldn't spot the similarities. All she could see was a mini Jaebeom lying on his crib and that made her heart shrink even more. She had promised herself she’d hold everything together for him, but tonight had proved how fragile her resolve had become.

After checking if everything was fine with her little one, she followed her way to her bedroom. 

Jaebeom’s silhouette against the bedroom window was the first thing she noticed as she entered. His shoulders, usually so broad and assured, were slumped in defeat. The tension between them still lingered, but seeing him like that chipped away at her defenses. She hadn’t meant to lash out the way she did. It wasn’t entirely his fault - he was doing what was required of him, fulfilling his duties. But that didn’t make her feelings any less valid.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. 

Jaein wiped at the tears she didn't even notice was falling, her hands shaking. Jaebeom stepped closer, his eyes full of regret.

"I didn’t want to upset you," he said quietly, his voice raw. "I hate seeing you like this, Jaein. I hate feeling like I’m failing you. I'm sorry I haven't been there for you the way you need me to be. I thought... I thought you were handling it. You’re so strong, Jaein. Sometimes, I forget that even you have limits.”

She looked up at him, her face crumpling.

“I don’t feel strong. I feel like I’m failing. Everything and everyone." 

Jaebeom pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as she sobbed against his chest. 

“You’re not failing,” he murmured. “You’re doing everything you can, and it’s more than enough. I should have seen how much you were struggling. I should have been there for you, even from a distance. I’m so sorry."

Jaein clung to him, her tears soaking his shirt. 

"I don't know how much I can keep doing this." she confessed. 

"You don't have to do it alone anymore," he said firmly. “I'll call more. I'll make sure you know that I’m here, even when I’m not. We’ll get through this, Jaein.”

[pars-ley]

Title: Come Alive (part two) Pairing: Jackson Wang x f reader Summary: Having not heard from Jackson since he pretended to be your boyfriend to ward off unwanted attention, you try to push him out of your mind, that is until you run into him when you least expect it. Genre: Fake dating au / strangers to lovers au / heartbreak / angst / fluff / smut Rating: 15 (Nsfw-smut in future chapters) Warnings: some brief mild "friendly" threatening behaviour / foul language W/C: 2.2k Banner: @nixiecreates creating pure perfection. Beta: @seokgyuu thank you so much for you kind and encouraging words Tag list: @foofarny @kzokssb @galadrielthepsycho @sumzysworld @vminjackbaddie Notes: just a short chapter as I'm easing into the story that will unfold. I'm so excited. Please like, comment, reblog as it really helps!

"Can I get a medium latte and a slice of the lemon sponge, please?” You ask the barista, at the coffee shop around the corner from your apartment.

“Uh, sure, to have in or takeaway?” He responds with a bright smile, seeming slightly over the top.

“Have in, please.” 

He nods enthusiastically, “coming right up, tap when you're ready.” He points to the contactless card machine and rushes off to make your drink. “Swap with me.” He whispers to the other worker at the coffee machine, practically shoving him out of the way. Frowning, bewildered by his behaviour you shrug it off and make your payment before heading to the other end of the counter to wait for your order.

Taking a quick glance at the seating, you are pleased to see there are a few tables you can choose from, much to your relief. You need to get some work done and with your upstairs neighbours having renovations in their apartment, the noise there is almost impossible. So you came to your sanctuary, your favourite coffee shop with not only the best coffee, but most importantly, the best cakes. 

“Here you are.” The barista says with that same wide, slightly manic looking grin, as he hands you the tray. “Call me, anytime.” He whispers, but still loud enough for the people in the queue to hear, resulting in their quiet sniggers. You glance down at your order and see the scrawl of some numbers on your napkin and your face heats, only made worse by the fact you can feel so many eyes on you. Smiling awkwardly, you blurt out, “Sorry, I have a boyfriend,” before taking the tray and making a quick escape to your table by the window. 

Once seated you spin the cup to take a proper look at it.

The name ‘Lyle’ stares at you in bold, messy italics. Groaning to yourself, you turn the cup back back around and set your bag on the seat next to you, pulling out your laptop and hoping that the eyes you could still feel on you were only your imagination. 

You most definitely did not want to call him. Especially since you still haven't forgotten about Jackson. It has been a month since you met him at the club and you've had no text or call from him whatsoever and yet, he has crossed your mind more regularly than you would care to admit.

You shrug the thought away as you load up your work and dig into your cake, relishing the sharp lemon flavour of the sponge combined perfectly with the sweetness of the drizzled icing on top.

“Does this boyfriend have a name?” a voice beside your table startles you, your fork freezing in mid air while your mind races to come up with an answer for the persistent barista.

Glancing up at him, determined to continue your lie, you start, “l-” but stop when you see a familiar face smiling down at you. “Jackson?” you drop your fork and stand up to greet him. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and kisses you lightly on the cheek, lingering a little too long for just a casual greeting. “It’s great to see you, y/n.”

You can’t help smiling up at him, your bodies almost pressed against each other and radiating intense heat between the tiny gap. 

“y/n?” Another voice sounds and a smiling face appears from behind him.

“Do I know you?” you wonder.

“No, no, sorry, I’m Mark, Jackson’s friend, but boy, have I heard a lot about you.” he grins.

Arching a brow you peer up at Jackson and note the faint flush of pink dusting across his cheeks and have to fight the amusement that tugs at your mouth. “Good things, I hope?”

“Oh, yes, very,” is all Mark responds, snapping his mouth shut when Jackson throws him a deathly glare. Biting your lip in an attempt to keep your excitement and amusement at bay and watch as Jackson turns your coffee cup towards him, looking at the numbers written there, “so, is this boyfriend real or did you need a fake one again?” 

The smirk that plays on his lips has your heart pounding against your ribcage, creating a tune just to serenade him with.

“I guess I could have really used your assistance again.” 

He laughs and then his eyes fall serious, seeming unsure of what he wanted to say.

“So still no boyfriend, huh?” Mark interrupts the silence, as he stares very obviously at Jackson.

You shrug, “nope, I seem to have this problem…” tapping your chin thoughtfully, “where guys don't call me.” 

Jackson groans and dips his head into his hands, “I know, I know, I was going to call, but then…” he hesitates, searching for the right words.

“He was being a little bitch about his ex,” Mark interrupts, “but, he's over that now, aren't you?” he scolds and you have to fight the urge to laugh.

“Yes, definitely.” Jackson responds staring intently at you, eyes burning through you and starting a surprisingly intense heat inside you. “I'm sorry, I should have at least sent a text.”

“Hey, if you're not ready, you're not ready, can't help meeting at shitty timing.” you smile graciously, trying to hide your disappointment and hoping you're succeeding.

“I'm ready, now,” he insists, stepping closer to you. “If I haven't blown my chance?”

Your heart hammers so loud in your chest, you can barely hear his words, but the resounding scream inside your head tells you what you've decided. “Why don't you message me and find out?”

He beams at you and nods, “yes, for sure.”

Your cheeks warm slightly and you have to break eye contact, if you want your brain to ever work normally again. Getting lost in his eyes is dangerously easy.

“Miss, are these guys bothering you?” A voice sounds next to you and your eyes drift slowly over following the sound. Who should it be? None other than Lyle, the barista. Thinking he's being a knight in shining armour, when in reality he's disturbing a moment you have hoped for since the night you met Jackson.

You bite your lip, as the awkwardness only continues to grow as you watch Lyle sneer at the two of them, it would almost be laughable if you weren't so disappointed by the interruption. 

Jackson glances slyly at you, a devilish smirk playing across his mouth and as if you can read his mind, you give him a sly wink.

Jackson steps towards him, glancing at the barista's badge, “Lyle, is it?”

He nods in response, suddenly seeming unsure of himself for butting in.

“I really appreciate the concern for my girlfriend, thank you for checking in on her and her well-being,” Jackson's hand lands on Lyle's shoulder, meant as a friendly gesture but you can tell it's also a warning by the firm grips he holds. He picks up your coffee cup and turns it towards Lyle, “and as you can gather, she won't be calling you. No hard feelings, right?”

Lyle shakes his head quickly, cheeks slightly pink and spins on his heels, making his way back behind the counter.

“Thank you.” You fight back a laugh. “you come to my rescue once again.” 

“Always happy to be your fake boyfriend.” he beams at you.

“Or,” Mark chimes in again, “you could just date each other, then you could be her real boyfriend.” He mimes bashing your head's together which would have made you laugh ordinarily but you're hyper focused on Jackson's reaction to that.

He fixes Mark with a hard stare before turning back to you. “I'm sorry, I'm really out of practice with dating.” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. “I'll call you later today and we can arrange a date? I mean, if you'd like to, that is? I don't mean to assume.” His face flushes pink and you can't help but bite your lip from the sight.

“I would love to, but,” you pause just to torture him a little more, “why don't you give me your number this time, in case you chicken out again.”

He gives you a bashful grin before pulling out his phone, typing away and then returning it to his pocket. “Done.”

You feel your cell vibrate in the back pocket of your jeans. “Ok, then.”

Both smiling at eachother like idiots, you're interrupted by Mark once again, “ok, lovebirds, we better get going so we're not late for the game.”

“Game?” You wonder.

“Basketball, a group of us play every week.” Jackson glances down at his watch. “Shit, you're right.” He takes a step towards you, “sorry, I've got to go but I promise I'll call you tonight.”

You nod, excitement blooming like roses in your stomach but a small whisper in the back of your mind does not want to get your hopes up again.

His fingers gently clasp your hand, and pull it up to his mouth, he presses his lips to the back of your knuckles, an action that almost has you swooning but you manage to stay upright.

“Really great to meet you!” Mark calls, as he heads towards the exit, drawing people's eyes in your direction.

Jackson backs away without another word, glancing back at you until he's out the door and out of sight.

You sit down, feeling dazed, your hand feels cold where his lips touched your skin, burning them with the memory of the tender kiss. Opening up your laptop and attempting to focus on today's tasks proves difficult when all you can think about is the hopeful impending conversation you would have with him later.

Pulling out your phone, remembering that he'd messaged you, so you could save his number and you see the text. Your mouth stretches in Cheshire grin before you can stop it seeing his message:

Unknown: can't wait to speak later

Just that simple sentence had you giddy and feeling like a love sick idiot. You also couldn't wait till later. 

*

Signing out at 5pm on the dot, you pack away your work things now you are back home. The renovations were still ongoing, the noise reverberating through your apartment like wildfire, making plans in your head to go out for dinner, until your phone rings, halting all other thoughts.

You see Jackson's name on your screen, scrambling to answer it and taking a deep breath to quell the excitement before you speak.

“Well, this is a nice surprise.” you start, sounding a lot cooler than you feel.

His deep laughter vibrates your ear, sending delicious shivers down your spine. “There's no chickens here today, ma’am.”

You can't help but laugh at his reference to your earlier comment. “I can see that. Nice to hear from you. How was the game?”

Settling on your sofa, pulling you legs up to get cosy, you listen in. 

“Yea, good, my team won, of course.” 

How can his voice sound even more devastating over the phone? Every word drips with velvet.

“There's nothing wrong with your ego, is there?” you tease.

“Not when it comes to things I know I'm good at.”

“And I bet you're good at many things.” the words leave your mouth before you can stop them, hanging in the air thick and heavy, until he speaks.

“I guess you'll just have to stick around and find out.”

You hold in the squeal that's bursting to escape, as more loud bangs and drilling sound around you.

“What on earth is that sound?” He asks.

Letting out a frustrated sigh you explain about your neighbours and your plans to stay out this evening, hoping when you return the noise would have dissipated somewhat.

“If you're free tonight, why don't we have dinner?” He asks, sounding nervous for the first time today.

Biting your lip and grinning you nod frantically, “oh sorry,” you laugh, realising he can't see you, “I was nodding. I would love that.”

“Ok, great, I'll pick you up in half an hour?”

“Perfect.” Holy fuck, you need to get ready fast.

You text him your address and raid your wardrobe, opting for a black dress with flat shoes, something simple but classic so you would fit whatever type of restaurant you go to. Your hair is beyond saving, so you pull it up in a rough bun, which for once turns out great. You neaten the very minimal makeup you have on when your doorbell goes. Your heart hammers wildly in your chest, galloping like a horse that carries you to your front door. Pulling it open, your mind goes blank seeing him standing there all in black. A fitted black t-shirt, with black trousers and shoes, he looked devastating in such a simple ensemble.

“You look…” swallowing and trying to appear calm, “amazing.”

His answering smile almost floors you. “I was thinking the same thing, you look beautiful. And we match.”

Looking down at your outfit you can't help but laugh at the coincidence. 

“Are you ready to go?” He asks.

Nodding, you grab your bag and keys and lock up. His fingers entwine through yours and he searches your eyes for permission, smiling as you give his hand a reassuring squeeze. It feels nice, the simple action of your hands clasped together, natural and comfortable. Your usual first date nerves have evaporated, maybe it's because you've spent time with him already, maybe it's because you know what it's like to kiss him, or maybe he's just a good match for you. Only time will tell.

[fireboltposts]

I'm on leave from work so the creative juices keep flowing.

Gif credit to their owner.

Warning : angst

• So Hyunjin and you had a playful dynamic.

• He always found your jokes amusing even when you said one day "you know I'd die for you right ?"

• And he's like 😳 for a while.

• "Y/N yah come on that's a bit much. You're such a drama queen", he'd tease, rolling his eyes, completely oblivious to the sincerity of your words even though it was shrouded in humor.

• You loved teasing him and always kept things playful.

• Some time later, he gets two passes for the opening of a new club uptown by an influential industry person.

• The chatter of the people drowned out by the loud music and the ambience is lively as you both dance to the music in the dimming lights and enjoy each other's company.

• Suddenly, chaos erupts as an armed intruder barges in, demanding attention. The music dies, replaced by fear and uncertainty and screams. Hyunjin instinctively moves closer to you, but you spot the danger before he does.

• As the intruder approaches, your heart races. Without thinking, you push him away, stepping in front of him just as a gunshot rings out. You feel the sharp pain and crumple to the floor. “Why did you do that?” Hyunjin shouts, rushing to your side, eyes wide with horror.

•"No no no you can't leave me. You were joking, joking", he says as his voice cracks. "You silly girl why did you do that ?" , he tears falling freely now.

• You manage to give him a faint smile as you feel the life ebb out of you.

• "I .. meant it Hyunjin.. I always meant it. I'd do... any ... thing for ... you".

• As the paramedics arrive, he’s overwhelmed with grief and guilt. “Why didn’t you just let me handle it?” he says, tears streaming down his face.

• In the days that followed, Hyunjin is left shattered. He reflects on your jokes and realises how deeply they resonated with your feelings. He is forever haunted by the idea that your playful banter turned into a tragic reality. He clings to your memory, realising how your joke masked a deeper truth.

Do like and comment if you like it. :)

[csprint]

𖡡 csprint's masterpost

syd (🦥)┊she/her ┊20+ ┊do not interact if you are underage.

requests are open. but please be patient. i will accept anything except for the following: rape, non-con, abuse, self harm, coercion, incest, or extreme age gap.

masterlists:

a.c.e┊ateez┊got7┊jungkook┊seventeen┊stray kids┊the boyz

[mykoreanlove]

new love, old fears

„Y/N, open the fucking door. Now!“, Jackson pounded relentlessly against the bathroom door.

You had fled after the latest argument, cowering in a pretentious shell of protection. His voice was laced with desperation, one agonised plea after another.

„Baby“, he whispered softly.

You choked on your tears, unable to speak. Paralysed by your fear.

He’s going to leave me.

You noticed a loud thud against the door, Jackson sat down on the other side.

„Do you really think I’m going to leave you?“

He paused, hoping for an answer. More tears streamed down your face, you tasted the saltiness on your lips.

„Baby, I’ve waited all of my life for you. I’ve waited a lifetime to find you. You, y/n. And now that I finally have you, I won’t let you go that easily. Do you hear me?“

You heard his jewellery clinging, he always gestured heavily when trying to make a point. Jackson sighed in annoyance, carefully choosing his next words.

„I get that you have made negative experiences in the past. All those fuckers before me used you. For attention, or sex. All of them left when they didn’t need you anymore but baby I’m not like that. I need you. All of you.“

His voice was sincere, tugging at your heart.

„I understand why you’re sabotaging us. Sabotaging Me. But you don’t have to. For me there’s only you. The good, the bad, I don’t care.“

A small scoff escaped your lips. How could he not care?

The whole apartment was dead silent, your scoff audible for him as well.

„What you don’t believe me? Baby, your flaws are so minuscule that I don’t even recognize them as such. Of course you’re not perfect, nobody is. But you’re perfect for me.“

Ever since you met Jackson he was able to make you feel things, things you haven’t felt in a lifetime. Butterflies lived in your stomach, heat waves rushed through your veins. His brown eyes knew exactly what effect they had on you. He was a sincere man, reliable and affectionate. His words matched his actions, his love penetrated your soul.

And yet, you were terrified of him.

„Y/N“, he carefully whispered.

You leaned closer to the door, needing him closer as well.

„Baby, my heart is yours. From the moment you smiled at me, it was yours. I gave it you, voluntarily. Please, don’t make me regret this.“

You fell to your knees and sobbed again.

„But what if we fight again?“, you asked in desperation.

Jackson’s eyes lit up as you finally spoke.

„So what? Baby, every couple fights. Hell, I don’t even remember what our last fight was about. But there’s one thing you need to understand.“

„And what’s that?“

„It’s you and me against the problem. Not you against me, baby. I’m always on your side. If you let me.“

You’ve never heard those words before. You were used to break up texts or ghosting, but never to this. Could you really trust him?

„It’s just a thought, y/n. You’re letting yourself be terrorised by a thought. What if Jackson leaves me?“

Hearing him verbalise your deepest fear stung, yet he was right.

He gave you no reason to doubt him, nor his love. Yet, you couldn’t stop doing it.

„What if I don’t? What if this works out forever? What if I made you my wife? What if we lived happily ever after? What if every stupid fight made our bond stronger? What if, y/n?“

Jackson fell back as you slowly opened the door. He kept laying on the floor, looking at you with concerned eyes. His brows were furrowed, a tell tale sign of his worry for you. And your love.

You got down on your knees and hovered over him, your lips almost touching.

„Thank you for opening the door“, he silently whispered.

„Thank you for understanding“, you muttered under your breath.

Jackson’s arm shot up and grabbed you by your neck, slowly pulling you down to him.

He kissed you tenderly, letting you know that he meant every word he said.

„You really are my greatest blessing, y/n“, he muttered in between kisses.

„And my biggest headache“, he teased.

[star-suh]

So since you write for Jackson wang

I have a silly request

How about writing like one of those old wattpad fanfics where you get invited to his private VIP party and he ends up having sex with you and falling in love with you

I’d absolutely love to see your take on one of those fics

Not Your Typical Party 

jackson wang x male reader

cw: top jackson, bttm m reader, friends to lovers trope, some fluff sprinkled, some angst sprinkled too (like crying, a bit and comforting), implied kinda drunk jackson during sex but he is conscious, passionate and rough sex at the same time, pet names, fingering, spit as lub, unprotected sex, mating press (kinda obsessed with it later teehee)

—

it was friday night and y/n was getting ready to go to THE jackson wang's party, it is well known that he loves to throw wild vip parties in the most luxurious places in the city, so for y/n it was like a goal accomplished being capable of assist to at least one of those. it happened during one of y/n's walks, he accidentally bumped into jackson, his old college friend/crush. "y/n?" says jackson "woah, i almost didn't recognize you without your glasses. how's your life going?" he asked. "hehe, nothing much" answered y/n "just working". "you should take a break, it will do good to you" recommended the man "i'm organizing a party this friday night, come enjoy all the night" he smiled at y/n making him a bit flustered "ah… ye-yeah" he stuttered. "here give me your number" says jackson passing to y/n his phone so he can type his number on it, "done" answered the flustered guy, "ok, see you later pal" he says while waving his hand "ah, put on those glasses you look cute with them" he yells while entering his car.

—

"well, let's go" said y/n nervously opening the doors, he thought that his feelings for jackson were gone but no… they're there. he was received by lots of colored neon lights, people drinking, dancing and swimming in the pool, there was a sexy shirtless dj accompanied by lots of girls and a boy sitting who was kinda sad, y/n felt bad for him and was gonna ask him what happened "oh there you are" yelled jackson y/n turned towards the voice meeting a jackson in a robe and long pants, he was shirtless showing his perfect abs "oh h-hey" stuttered y/n "like the view? you're stuttering" mocked and laughed jackson "come here take a drink" y/n did as he said "i'll come later" jackson waves a goodbye and left y/n in a table drinking.

minutes have passes and y/n was getting bored, this definitely wasn't a place for him, all people having fun but not him "i guess it was a bad idea coming here" he says circling the bottle's tip. y/n stands up and went to the bathroom, find jackson to say goodbye and leave. 

"oh hey" y/n says to get jackson's attention who was talking to some girls "talk to you later" he says to the girls and went straight to y/n "what happened?" he asks. "nothing" replied y/n touching the back of his neck embarrassed "just wanted to say goodbye i have to go now". "no, please don't go" says the drunk man, grabbing y/n by the hand and dragging him towards a room, jackson's bedroom. "please stay with me" begged jackson starting to kiss y/n who opened his eyes wide in surprise but just let himself go enjoying the delicious and wet kiss "you taste like many liquors" said y/n making jackson smile.

the clothes of both were being discarded one by one with jackson touching every inch of y/n's sexy body "so fucking sexy. and just for me" growled the man on y/n's ear. jackson started to grope y/n's ass and squeeze it very hard "hng" moaned y/n. "yes like that. moan for me pretty" whispered jackson kissing y/n's shoulders and the bottom doing the same with jackson's collarbones.

jackson lifted one of y/n's leg with a hand while fingering him with the other. "please, just put it in already" whimpered y/n wanting to feel jackson inside him "as you wish prince". both lay down in bed and jackson introduced his cock in y/n then leaving it in there without moving so y/n would get used to the sensation. "you don't how much i've craved this. i love you" y/n then realizes what he just said and look directly at jackson's eyes "oh i'm sorry" said y/n embarrassed. "what do you mean?" asked jackson, "it's nothing" y/n was scared, he didn't know how jackson was going to react, he was dumb for saying that in the middle of sex, many mixed emotions made y/n start to cry. 

"shush, don't cry pretty boy" whispered jackson "it's ok, don't cry" he says wiping y/n tears and hugged him "it's ok, let it all out" he rubs y/n's back. seeing how he calmed down a bit jackson says "it's ok, you know why?" looking at y/n with loving eyes "i love you too silly" he smiles and kisses y/n who was shocked, his all-life crush just said that he loves him? y/n can't believe it. "and as proof of my love for you i'm gonna make you mine tonight" jackson bit y/n's ear and started to thrust. y/n was happy for what he just heard "fill me with your love then" he says hugging jackson as hard as he can…

in a mating press position jackson was drilling y/n so hard that the bed started to shake "i'm not gonna stop until you're full of my love,  i don't care if the bed breaks" the party man assured y/n couldn't say anything just moans and whimpers, feeling jackson reaching his sweet spot with every thrust. he then slip all his cock out leaving just the tip inside y/n's puffy gaping hole and then slammed again, doing the same thing like 10 times again. y/n started to jerk off feeling that sensation in his stomach "i'm gonna cum jackson" drool spilling out of his mouth "cum for me baby" says the top, kissing y/n and playing with his nipples to make him cum fast. "i'm c-cumming" yelled y/n shooting his cum landing on his abdomen and jackson's chest and some on his chin, he then cleans it with his thumb and lick it "so tasty" says jackson. "get ready to get filled" says jackson speeding up his pace, the loud music outside covering the skin slapping sounds "receive all my love and don-don't waste it" he says feeling he is very close "love. love. love. receive. all. my. lovee~" every word accompanied by a hard thrust, cumming finally in the last one and filling y/n's insides with his sperm. "i love you so much prince" says jackson laying at the side of y/n caressing his face, "i love you too" y/n replies…

—

it was morning, both already cleaned up and jackson accompanied y/n to the front door passing by drunk people sleeping everywhere in the garden. "ok then, see you later i guess" says y/n shyly waving "wait, hold on" yells jackson making y/n turn around to face him "here let me put them on you" he puts the glasses on y/n and adjusts his hair "you look cute on them" he says once again making y/n flustered "don't say that" y/n pushes jackson's shoulder who just laughed "why don't you wait for me to get ready and i take you in my car?... and i can invite you to have breakfast in a cafeteria i know, food there is delicious. what do you think?" he asks, "sounds good for me. just don't be late" answered y/n.

jackson kissed y/n leaving him surprised "it's a date then" he goes quickly to change clothes and y/n just looks at him with his face red as a tomato "fuck… i blush too easily... damn!" he thinks.

[this-song-thats-only-for-you]

The Song Fic Collab - Nothings Over

Pairing: Jackson Wang x female reader

Genre: Angst

Word count: 485

Author’s Note: *Dream Sequence within story*

For 2025, both Chelle (@prettywordsyouleft ) and I wanted to encourage each other to write a story each month. We chose to work with the same kpop song, and not tell the other what we came up with until it was written, so we could showcase how the same prompt can be used differently - or similar in some cases, I'm sure!

Our stories will go live on the 21st of every month NZST. And you can find each one listed here.

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

“Fine. Leave!”

“Fine. I will!”

The words were out before he could stop himself. Why did he just shout that? That wasn’t what he really wanted to say, but when you got under his skin, Jackson’s emotions went haywire.

Everything was going well in the relationship, or so he thought. So why was it that he now ended up following you from room to room as you collected your things.

“What are… you don’t.” Unsure of what to say now that the damage was done, Jackson tried to ask you why you needed to take these things, to take yourself away.

Away from him.

Looking at you, he could tell you were just as wound up as he was. Your eyes were red from crying, and your footsteps rushed through the apartment at a speed he didn’t realise you had, as numerous items were shoved in an overnight bag.

“Stop following me,” you pleaded, finally turning to face him. “You wanted this, so I’m leaving. Following through. At least one of us has to.”

Sniffling, you composed yourself as you zipped the bag up.

Jackson was breathing heavily, his eyes darting from your face, down your body to the hand reaching for the doorknob.

“Please.” His voice cracked and sounded so unlike its usual tone. He was pleading now, Jackson’s hand instinctively searched for yours as he stepped closer, the tears threatening to fall. You stepped back, and away from him. It was like you had punched him straight in the stomach.

“Goodbye Jackson.”

And then you were gone.

He had done this. This was all his fault. Why did he have to pick a fight? What was it even about in the first place? He struggled to remember the reason now, and it all seemed so stupid.

Suddenly, his knees gave out and he landed on the floor in a crumpled mess. Jackson couldn’t stop as the tears escaped fast and heavily when the realization hit him. Running his hands over his face, he tried to wash the tears away, but it was no use.

Panic hit him then and it made it hard to breathe. 

What was he going to do? He had to fix this.

Gasping for air, Jackson startled awake. His body was covered in a sheen of sweat as he searched the darkened room for something, anything palpable.

“Jack? You okay?” A soft voice asked, your head lifting slightly from the pillow beside him.

You were here. You hadn’t left. And you hadn’t fought. Your relationship was okay.

“I’m okay Baby. Just a bad dream,” he murmured huskily, sliding his body back under the covers and pulling you closer.

The need to make sure this was real slammed into him as his lips found the bare skin of your shoulder, a small noise of satisfaction filling the room at his touch.

He whispered, “Everything’s okay. We’re both okay. Nothing’s over.”

[chaosandcandies]

almost, always - ch 3

Warnings (only for this chapter) - social anxiety hinted, insecurity, alcohol mentioned, swearing Pairings - idol!bangchan x female!bsf(oc) Read chapter one and two here!

Chapter Three: Happy Birthday, I’m Dying Inside!

IN THE END, Hanuel showed up. She was late — last-minute nerves had her pacing her room for too long. But eventually, she slipped into a dusty blue knit dress and brown boots, forcing herself onto the subway. Now, standing outside the door, her fingers twisted in her bag strap as doubt crept back in, louder than ever.

Her heart pounded. Loud. Too loud. She felt every beat echo in her chest, spreading to her fingertips and toes. The music thrummed through the floor, amplifying the vibrations in her body until it felt like she might dissolve.

She shouldn’t have come.

She hadn’t even told Chan she was coming. Felix had convinced her to keep it a secret after Chan caught wind of the party plans. Let yourself be the last surprise, Felix had said over the phone. It’ll be funny.

But what if it wasn’t? What if Chan didn’t laugh? What if he felt like she was intruding — shoving her way into his life uninvited?

Hanuel forced herself to take a breath, but it did little to calm her down. The thought gnawed at her as she lingered outside the door, fingers trembling against the hem of her dress.

She could hear muffled laughter spilling from inside — voices overlapping, music thrumming through the walls. Every sound made her chest tighten.

Maybe she should leave. She had already called Chan in the morning, wishing him a happy birthday. She could text Felix, say she wasn’t feeling well, and slip back into the subway like she was never here.

Her heart jumped when the door suddenly opened.

Minho stood in the doorway, blinking at her. His usual sharp expression softened into something unreadable, eyes flicking over her like he was piecing together a puzzle.

“Oh,” he said, stepping aside without a word. He didn't question why she was hovering outside the door and Hanuel was grateful for it.

She bowed, mumbling a barely audible thank you as she slipped inside. The apartment buzzed with life, the members and others whom she didn't recognise packed into the clusters, too busy in their jokes and teasing to notice her.

Hanuel quickly pressed herself against the nearest wall, fingers twisting the strap of her bag as she scanned the room for Chan.

She spotted him almost immediately.

He was in the kitchen, laughing with Felix and Hyunjin, a paper crown perched crookedly on his head. He looked so at ease — so happy.

Her stomach twisted.

Maybe he didn’t need her here. Maybe he hadn’t needed her for a long time.

But then Chan turned, and his eyes landed on her like a magnet snapping into place. His laughter cut off mid-breath, the surprise on his face so stark that even Hyunjin stopped talking to glance between them.

“Hanuel?” Chan’s voice carried over the noise, and suddenly, she wished she really had left.

His eyes were wide, disbelief flickering across his face. He blinked, like he wasn’t sure she was real. Her body went rigid, feet glued to the floor. She opened her mouth to explain herself, to apologize — but nothing came out.

Chan, still staring, handed his drink to Hyunjin without looking. He weaved through the crowd, brushing past people like they weren’t even there, until he stopped right in front of her.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, voice gentler this time. “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“I…Felix invited me.” She swallowed, throat tight and then she forced herself to smile, “Happy Birthday, Snapback.”

Chan’s face softened at the mention of the old nickname, a slow grin spreading across his lips. “You should’ve told me,” he said, giving her shoulder a light squeeze. “I would’ve come to get you.”

Her pulse hammered painfully. She couldn’t tell if he was upset or not — if he really meant what he said, or if he was just being polite. She hated how her brain twisted his words, pulling them apart to find problems where there probably weren’t any.

“I...I thought you might not want me here,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Chan frowned, brows furrowing. “Why would you think that?”

Before she could answer, a loud voice cut through the noise.

“HANNI-BEE?!”

She barely had time to brace herself before she was engulfed in a crushing hug, the ridiculous nickname making her suddenly nostalgic.

“Bambam?” she croaked, her voice muffled against his jacket.

He pulled back, grinning like he’d just won the lottery. “I knew I saw you!” He shook her shoulders with playful force. “You disappeared! Why didn’t you tell me you were still hanging out with this loser?” He jerked a thumb toward Chan.

“I — I wasn’t,” she stammered, heat rushing to her cheeks. “I mean, not really, I —”

“JACKSON, LOOK!” Bambam shouted over his shoulder. “SHE’S ALIVE!”

Jackson materialized out of nowhere, eyes wide with surprise before morphing into a mischievous smirk. “I thought you were a ghost or something,” he teased, ruffling her hair. “Haven’t seen you in forever.”

Her hands trembled as she tried to laugh it off, overwhelmed by the sudden attention. She pressed her fingers into her palms, grounding herself, but her chest still tightened like a vice.

Chan stood beside her, watching her carefully, but not carefully enough to see. He didn’t notice how her smile strained, or how her fingers twitched from squeezing her hands too hard.

He didn’t notice how badly she wanted to run.

“I — it’s nice to see you guys,” Hanuel said, her voice wobbling like a loose thread.

“You’re shaking,” Jackson observed, not unkindly, but blunt enough to make her flinch.

Chan elbowed him. “Hyung.”

“What? She is.”

“I’m fine,” Hanuel blurted, voice too sharp, too quick. She felt her pulse throb in her throat, the weight of their attention pressing down on her. Her chest constricted, lungs working overtime as she tried to breathe through the panic creeping up her spine.

She hated how obvious it felt — how she could feel her anxiety bleeding through the cracks, no matter how tightly she tried to patch herself up.

“I should get a drink,” she said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I’ll be right back.”

Without waiting for a response, she slipped away, weaving through the crowd like a ghost. The noise blurred into static, voices warping as her heart pounded louder, faster.

She barely made it to the kitchen before her legs gave out, and she sank onto a stool, fingers digging into her knees.

Breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

She counted her breaths, grounding herself against the cool surface of the counter. She pressed her palms flat, willing the tremors in her fingers to stop, to quiet the storm raging beneath her skin.

“Hanuel?”

Her heart stuttered.

She turned, and there he was — Han Jisung, standing by the fridge with a half-empty soda can in his hand. His eyes widened when he saw her, blinking as if he wasn’t sure she was real.

“You...you actually came,” Han said, voice dipping into something softer, more surprised than she expected.

“I...yeah,” Hanuel mumbled, ducking her head. She gripped the edge of the counter like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. “Sorry.”

“Sorry?” Han echoed, stepping closer. “Why are you sorry?”

For being here. For crashing the party. For acting like I still belong in Chan’s life.

But she couldn’t say any of that, so she just shook her head, biting down on the words before they could spill out and ruin everything.

Han watched her, eyes sharp in a way that made her feel exposed. He wasn’t as loud as the others, not as showy, but his gaze was heavy, like he saw too much.

“Are you...okay?” he asked, tilting his head.

Hanuel tensed, heat rushing to her face. “I’m fine,” she said, too quickly, her voice too thin.

Han didn’t buy it. He set his drink down and leaned against the counter, keeping enough distance so she wouldn’t feel cornered but close enough that she couldn’t escape the weight of his attention.

“Chan’s happy you’re here,” Han said after a moment, tapping his fingers against the counter. “He hasn’t stopped talking about how much he misses you.”

Her chest tightened.

“I doubt that,” she muttered.

Han blinked, taken aback. “What?”

“It’s been years,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the refrigerator. “I’m just...intruding.”

Han stared at her like she’d just said the sky was green. “Intruding?” he repeated, disbelief coloring his voice. “Dude, you’re like, his favorite person. He never shuts up about you.”

Hanuel froze.

“That’s not true,” she said, her throat closing up.

“It is,” Han insisted, shrugging like it was obvious. “He talks about you all the time — like, all the time. Honestly, I thought you guys texted every day or something.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut.

Because they didn’t text every day. They barely texted at all. And the more Han spoke, the more she realized how much she’d missed — how far apart she and Chan had drifted, even if he still talked about her like she hadn’t left. And no one was to blame except for her.

Hanuel swallowed the lump in her throat, her pulse hammering against her ribs.

“I should get back to the party,” she said abruptly, stepping back.

Han straightened. “Wait —”

But she was already slipping out of the kitchen, her vision blurring as her chest caved in.

She needed air.

She needed out.

But Jackson blocked her way before she could run anywhere. "Come on now," he teased, an easy grin spreading across his face, "where are you off to now? Don't tell me you're avoiding us now."

"What? No!" The lies escaped from Hanuel's lips easily, "I just wanted a drink. It's been so long."

"It really has been, hasn't it?" Bambam chimed in, "You were gone so suddenly. Like, poof! I thought you moved to another country or joined a secret agency."

Hanuel laughed, the sound slipping out before she could catch it. “I didn’t,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I just...stayed out of the way.”

“Stayed out of the way?” Jackson repeated, looking genuinely offended. “Since when do you stay out of the way? You used to pick fights with vending machines when they didn’t work.”

Bambam snorted. “Didn’t you punch one?”

“I didn’t punch it,” Hanuel muttered, heat crawling up her neck. “I just...tapped it. Forcefully.”

Jackson doubled over laughing. “Forcefully? You fucking dented the thing!”

Bambam wiped fake tears from his eyes. “And then threatened to sue JYP for emotional distress.”

“Oh my god, stop,” Hanuel whined, burying her face in her hands.

“Or when you kicked a trash can because you were losing in Mario Kart?” Jackson wheezed, clutching his stomach.

“In my defense,” Hanuel said, voice muffled, “it was rigged.”

“Or when you chased Chan around that park with a slipper as you swore at him?” Bambam added, barely able to breathe through his laughter.

“That was his fault,” she snapped, peeking out from behind her fingers. “He stole my ice cream!”

Jackson wiped his eyes, still cackling. “Man, you were fucking wild. I kinda miss it.”

Bambam nodded, smiling fondly. “Yeah. You were scary, but fun scary.”

Hanuel’s chest loosened, the weight of anxiety lifting just a little. She didn’t know when she’d stopped being that person — the one who yelled too loud, laughed too hard, and stormed through life like a hurricane. But standing there, hearing the ridiculous stories spill out like they’d just happened yesterday, made her feel like she hadn’t lost that version of herself completely.

“You guys make me sound like a menace,” she muttered, but her lips curled up in a small smile.

“You were a menace,” Bambam grinned. “And we loved it.”

“Wait, who was scary?” Felix’s voice chimed in, and they turned to see him approaching with Hyunjin trailing behind, curiosity plastered across both their faces.

“Hanuel,” Bambam grinned, pointing at her like he was exposing a criminal. “She used to terrorize everyone.”

Felix gasped, eyes wide with playful shock. “You? No way.”

Hanuel covered her face again. “This is character assassination.”

“It’s true!” Jackson said, wrapping an arm around Felix’s shoulders. “She nearly broke a vending machine because it wouldn’t give her chips.”

Hyunjin snorted, “Honestly? Respect.”

Felix giggled, his sunshine-like laughter infectious. “I can’t imagine you like that.”

Hanuel peeked out from her hands, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips. “That’s because I’ve mellowed out,” she mumbled. “I’m peaceful now.”

Bambam and Jackson immediately burst into laughter again, doubling over like it was the funniest thing they’d heard all night.

“Peaceful?” Bambam wheezed. “Stop with the bullshit. You threw your shoe at Chan!”

“I was sixteen!”

Felix wiped his eyes, still giggling, while Hyunjin looked at her with newfound admiration. “You’re kinda my hero,” he said, and Hanuel couldn’t help but laugh, finally feeling the last remnants of anxiety unravel.

For the first time that night, she felt like she belonged — not because she was quiet and careful, but because these people had already seen her chaos and accepted her anyway.

And maybe she hadn’t lost herself completely, after all.

Felix nudged her arm, eyes still sparkling. “You should hang out with us more. Maybe you can help me scare Chan for revenge.”

Hanuel raised a brow. “Revenge for what?”

“He stole my last brownie,” Felix said, voice heavy with betrayal.

Hyunjin nodded solemnly. “It was tragic. Felix almost cried.”

“I did cry,” Felix admitted, clutching his chest like he was still grieving.

Hanuel chuckled, the warmth in her chest spreading. “I guess I can come out of retirement for that.”

Jackson threw an arm around her shoulders. “That’s the spirit! Wild Hanuel is back!”

Before she could protest, more footsteps echoed down the hall, and Seungmin and I.N appeared, both bowls filled with chips and candies.

“Oh, hey,” Seungmin said, blinking at the group. “We were wondering where everyone went.”

I.N tilted his head, glancing at Hanuel and then bowed. He then turned to the group to ask, "What are you talking about?"

“Hanuel-ssi's adventures.” Hyunjin grinned, gesturing toward her like she was some kind of legend. “She was a vending machine warrior.”

Hanuel groaned, but Seungmin just nodded like it made perfect sense. “Cool.” He offered her some chips. “Want some?”

She took it, unsure what to do with the sudden kindness. “Thanks?”

Before the awkward silence could settle, Han appeared at the end of the hall, panting like he’d run a whole marathon. “Why are all of you missing?”

Felix smirked. “Talking how wild Hanuel used to be.”

Han’s eyes widened as he registered her presence. “Oh,” he said, voice small.

“Oh?” Hyunjin echoed, “That’s all you’ve got?”

Han cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck. “I, uh, thought you left already.”

“I almost did,” Hanuel admitted, “But Jackson and Bambam tackled me.”

“Emotionally tackled,” Jackson corrected.

Han smiled, something softer settling in his expression. “I’m glad you stayed.”

Just as Hanuel started to feel like she could relax, Chan’s voice cut through the chatter, loud and bright. “Oh, there you guys are! I was looking for you.”

The group turned, and Hanuel’s heart sank when she saw the girl standing beside him. Leah. She recognized her from the last time she’d visited the JYPE building — Chan had mentioned she was a stylist for Stray Kids, an Australian who’d moved to Korea to work in the industry.

“This is Leah,” Chan introduced, grinning as he gestured to her. “I don’t think you guys have officially met.”

Leah waved, her smile friendly but a little hesitant. “Hi!” she chirped in accented Korean, her pronunciation a bit clumsy.

Hanuel tried to smile back, her throat tightening. “Hi.”

Leah attempted to continue the conversation, switching to English, but Hanuel couldn’t catch more than a few words. She nodded along, pretending to understand, her chest growing heavier with each second.

She felt small. Invisible. Like a shadow standing at the edge of the circle.

She glanced at Chan, hoping he’d notice her discomfort, but he was too busy laughing at something Leah had said. The more Chan beamed at Leah’s words, the smaller Hanuel felt.

Hanuel pressed her nails into her palm, grounding herself, fighting the creeping ache of inadequacy.

Because, really, why would he notice?

Leah was beautiful. Sun-kissed blonde hair cascaded past her shoulders, eyes a vivid shade of blue that sparkled with curiosity. She had that easy confidence people carried when they belonged, her smile wide and infectious, even when her Korean words stumbled. Even in a simple cropped sweater and cargo pants people couldn't help but pay attention to her. There was a lightness to her, an aura of warmth that made people gravitate toward her, even as she fiddled nervously with her rings when she wasn’t sure what to say.

She was everything Hanuel wanted to be and more.

Fortunately for her, Minho arrived, arms crossed, surveying the group like he already knew they were up to something. “There you are,” he said, arching a brow. “It’s time to cut the cake.”

Right on cue, Changbin strolled in, holding a cake with way too many candles, his face smug. “I got the cake. Nobody touch it — it’s a masterpiece.”

The group dissolved into laughter, trailing back to the kitchen as they broke into the birthday song. Chan giggled through the whole thing, his dimples deepening as he cut the first slice, and for a fleeting moment, Hanuel wished she could freeze time — keep this exact feeling and let everything else fade away.

But her eyes lingered on Leah, standing right beside him, singing loudly and beaming at him like he was her whole world. They fit so easily together, like two pieces of a puzzle, and it made something inside Hanuel twist.

Still, she forced a smile, pretending she got her whole life together.

Wassup? This chapter was exhausting and I hope I did well in potraying Hanuel's perspective. I get how annoying the slowburn kinda gets but I don't really wanna rush things, given how much work Hanuel character's need. Social anxiety isn't something you can deal with so quickly and that isn't the message I'm tryna send. So yeah, bear with me, lmfao. If anything makes you uncomfortable or you're relating with Hanuel's self doubts on any level, leave me a message and I don't mind listening to yall if you don't have anyone else. Sometimes you just need someone to lend an ear. Moving on, I loved introducing Bambam and Jackson and I love their dynamic. I just love the whole of Got7 and I'm so glad they finally CAME BACK! Okies, I'll stop rambling lmfao. Sorry, it's late here and I just wanna sleep but then at the same time I'm too excited to sleep because I wanna continue writing (my writers block finally lifted after so long lmfao) Anywhoo, don't be a ghost! Leave likes and comments. Reblogs helps a lot too <3 Stay safe and I'll come w ch 4 soon! Here's a meme to entertain you till then lmfao

This is funny because I literally have my Maths final exam tmrw and here I am pRocAstiNatinG. Okies, I'll finally leave yall. ~Candy \(￣︶￣*\))

[spacequokka]

JB.two

Prompt: “I think we need to talk.”

You froze, nearly dropping the plates you were carrying to the cabinet. You turned around. Jaebeom was leaning on the kitchen island with a crease in his eyebrows. Oh, no. “What about?”

“This.” He gestured vaguely between you, an air of discomfort settling in the space. He was seldom a man of many words, but his eyes always spoke volumes, and right now they were filled with a mixture of concern and determination.

You put down the plates slowly, apprehensively wiping your hands on your apron before facing him fully. “Is something wrong?”

Jaebeom took a deep breath, his fingers drumming against the marble top, a habit when he was trying to organize his thoughts. “It’s just… I’ve been feeling like there’s distance growing between us. We’re like ships passing in the night, and I don’t want us to become strangers living under the same roof.”

Your heart sank. His words echoed the nagging fears that had haunted the back of your mind for weeks. Your chaotic schedules had stolen more from you two than just time. They were eroding your connection. “I’ve noticed it too,” you admitted softly, unable to keep your voice from shaking.

He straightened, seemingly relieved that you acknowledged the issue too. “I miss us, you know? How we used to be. And I think we need to do something about it.”

Feeling a complex mix of relief and apprehension, you nodded. “I miss us too. What do you think we should do?”

“We need to make time for each other,” he suggested earnestly. “Maybe set aside one night each week just for us? No phones, no work, just… us.”

It sounded simple enough, but in your whirlwind lives, it felt like a lifeline being thrown in tumultuous waters. “That’s doable. My schedule’s more flexible than yours. Just say when and where and I’m there.”

[taegr0wls]

CAN SOMEONE PLS RECOMMEND ME SOME YUGYEOM & CHANGKYUN FICS!!!! TYSM <333

[pars-ley]

The Drabble game seems fun!!

✨Jackson

🖤Enemies to lovers

✨prompt # 8

A lil angsty & smutty pls!

Congrats on 800 🎉

Title: Just like magic Pairing: Jackson Wang x (f) reader Summary: You and your colleague have never got on, he irritates you more than anyone you know, and especially when you attend a work event to announce your imminent promotion. But what happens when you're not prepared for the unexpected. Genre: Enemies to lovers / idiots to lovers / colleagues to lovers / office romance / one shot / angst / smut Rating: 18+ (NSFW) Warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) / breast play / finger play (f. recieving) / heavy making out / Explicit language / cumshot W/C: 4.7k Banner: me Beta: @flurrys-creativity you're the best cheerleader ever! Notes: Thank you to this anon, I was super excited to write this one and the inspiration just kept coming, I hope you enjoy!

A groan rumbles in your throat, as your heels click against the stone steps ascending into the tall, old building being used as this year's work party venue. 

“It won't be that bad,” Mark's voice next to you brings you some comfort, as he squeezes your hand, encouragingly. Glancing down at his polished nails, painted by you and you squeeze his back.

“Thank you for coming with me, honestly, you're the best friend a girl could ask for.”

“I wouldn't let you endure tonight alone,” he says, holding the large door open and gently placing his hand on your lower back, guiding you inside.

Your footsteps echo as you cross the large, ornate foyer, where one of the servers points you in the direction of the hall, the music muffled behind the closed doors.

“You ready?” He asks.

You nod and thread your arm through his, before taking a much needed deep breath. Tonight's work party is to celebrate the accomplishments of the company for this financial year. And most importantly the new creative director of events would be announced. You've worked your butt off for this promotion for two years, you've planned the most events out of anyone else in your company and with excellent reviews. All of this has not been without plenty of sleepless nights and working late. Now, it was all about to pay off and you felt like you could breathe again, but this work party had been filling your stomach with butterflies ever since it was announced. You hated being the centre of attention, plus the fact the promotion would be announced in front of everyone and you had to do a speech, made you very uncomfortable.

You walk into the large crowded room, suits and gowns as far as you can see. A large piano sat in the far corner, where a lady in a lavish blue dress and long black hair played an elegant piece, hitting the keys with perfect precision.

You drag Mark to the bar, insisting on a drink before any greeting, that is until you hear an all too familiar voice behind you. None other than Jackson Wang. 

“Mark, my man, it's been a while since y/n’s dragged you along to anything.” He says, no doubt shoving his hand into Marks. You take a few gulps of your martini.

“Another please.” You mouth to the bartender, tapping on the glass. 

You finally face Jackson, not even bothering with fake pleasantries.

“Y/n, you look…” he pauses for a moment and clears his throat, “nice.” He says the words as if they would choke him upon their exit and you can't help but roll your eyes. 

“Gee, thanks,” you mumble, your nerves of tonight's events, making you far less patient for Jackson Wang than usual. 

You two have been practically mortal enemies since his arrival at the company. He has been here half the time, does half the work you do and yet, gets most of the praise. But boy, does he love to rub it in. Everything about him rubs you up the wrong way.

“You seem to be in more of a mood than usual.��� He remarks, “I thought you'd be celebrating by now.”

“Yes, well not everyone likes being the centre of attention, Jackson.”

He smiles, seeming awkward at the bite in your retort. “Well, Mark, great to see you as always.” They shake hands and hug once more, before Jackson turns back to you, placing a hand on your shoulder and says, “good luck, y/n.”

Your irritated glare burns holes in his back as he walks away.

“You need to cut him some slack,” Mark's voice sounds next to you, annoyance blooming like a tree inside you, “he was just trying to be nice.”

You fight the urge to snap at him, taking a breath before speaking, “no, nice and Jackson Wang are two words that can't coexist in the same sentence in regards to me. He's nice to you, yes. Me? Absolutely not. He’s sarcastic and loud and he doesn't care about anyone but himself.” You down the rest of your drink and pick up your second that waits for you at the bar.

“I think you're wrong about him. He's just-”

“Chaotic, arrogant, self-centred, conceited. I could go on if none of those work.” You reply dryly, ignoring the eye roll he throws your way.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” your boss on the microphone startles you out of your current conversation and has your stomach doing somersaults. “Can you all gather around, please?”

Mark holds out his arm for you, “shall we?” 

Grasping it like your life depends on it, your feet move mechanically towards the crowd at the stage. Your legs feel like they would surely give way under you, if you weren't leaning on him so heavily.

“Now, it's the time we've all been waiting for folks…” he smiles cheerily. “I'll keep this brief, as I know everyone is eager to delve into the celebrations…” 

You attempt to control your breaths and hope to slow down your rapid heart beat, pounding alarmingly hard against your rib cage.

“...creative director is a prized position in our company, and so, of course we had to make sure we chose the right person…”

A loud swallow seems to echo around you as you try to quell the dryness in your throat. How on earth will you be able to do a speech?

“...we need someone who will continue to bring in fresh ideas, someone who will create trends and not follow them and someone who will do their best to strive for this company…”

Your ears throb, mimicking your heartbeat and making your boss's words quiet.

“...it is my utmost pleasure to introduce to you, your new creative director…Jackson Wang!”

Your legs wobble and Mark clutches you to his side, his eyes straight on your face. But you couldn't look at him. Instead you're scanning the room, finding Jackson as he climbs the stairs onto the stage. A wide Cheshire grin stretches across his face, too wide not to have known that was coming. Your blood boils in your veins, an unbearable heat rising up through your body and straight to your face, making your head feel aflame. You flash back to his ‘good luck’ to you only mere moments ago and your chest fills fit to burst with a scream you dare not let escape.

All around you a muffled call of “speech, speech,” slamming its way into your ears like a steel drum.

No matter how much you don't want to watch this scene play out, your feet are frozen to the floor beneath you, unable to do anything but stare.

He laughs, “wow, uh, believe it or not, for the first time ever, I'm speechless.” 

The crowd erupts into laughter, only infuriating you more as your fists clench into tight balls at your sides. 

“Hey, let's get out of here?” Mark says attempting to soothe your anger but you don't miss the slight panic in his tone.

There's a brief moment of Jackson meeting your eyes and you could swear he almost faltered while making his rehearsed speech…almost but he recovers and you can't bear to see anymore. You let Mark lead you slowly out of the large room, following blindly alongside him, numbness taking over.

You both come to a stop in a quiet part of the building with no prying eyes or ears. Mark comes round in front of you, taking both your hands. “I'm sorry, y/n.” He whispers. 

A hot tear rolls down your cheek and it's only then you realise your blurry vision is because your eyes are a dam ready to overflow. Cheering in the distance trumps again and you guess he's finished his speech. 

“Do you want to go?” Mark asks bending down to try and catch your eyes, but your stare is fixated on the marble flooring.

You did, of course you did. You wanted to run as far away from this as you could but, you were expected to be here, your boss will want to talk to you, no doubt and you don't want anyone thinking you ran off and sulked, especially not Jackson. The last thing you would do is let him see you upset because of him, you wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Swiping harshly at the wet trail down your face, you swallow your pride down and take a deep breath. “I can't, I have to stay.”

He says nothing but nods in understanding.

“Give me a few minutes ok, I'll meet you back inside.”

He eyes you carefully. “Are you sure? I can wait here for you?”

Smiling, you lay a hand on his chest. “I'll be fine, I promise. I'll see you inside.”

Reluctantly he agrees and heads off back into the main venue, looking behind him once to check on you. Once he's out of sight you head to the bathroom to freshen up, needing a moment to collect your thoughts. Thankfully the mirror is unoccupied giving you the chance to touch up your makeup. Smoothing down your dress, you release a steady breath, feeling calmer and more prepared now you are in control of your emotions. However, when you open that bathroom door, you're met with the last face you expected to see waiting for you.

“Y/n,” Jackson breathes, seeming relieved.

Your fists are balled up at your sides in an instant, all your calming positivity thrown out the window from just your name on his lips.

Gritting your teeth to keep your cool prevents you from replying.

“I'm so glad you're still here.” He takes a hesitant step towards you.

“Where else would I be, Jackson?” You snap.

He stills, his face falling and eyes suddenly so sad and vulnerable it hurts your heart. The fact you feel guilty for your response has you doubting your feelings, but you push it aside. No, he's the one that's done this, he's taken something you've worked so hard for.

“Y/n, we need to talk.”

A bitter laugh escapes you, “you're the last person I need to speak to.”

You try to walk past him but his hand comes out, grabbing your arm gentle but firm, your head snapping back to him.

You realise then this is the first time he's ever touched you, unsure as to why that thought enters your head, you push it aside.

“Y/n, please.” His pleading eyes pull at your heart, as confusion muddles your mind further.

Shrugging out of his grasp and folding your arms across your chest, you say, “you have five minutes.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and closes some distance between you. “Thank you.” He smiles, seeming to ease the tension but maybe he's just smug that you've relented.

“I know that we haven't always seen eye to eye,” he starts and you can't help but scoff at the understatement. He ignores and continues, “but I want you to know that I've refused the promotion.”

Your mouth falls agape. Never in a million years would you have guessed that's what he was about to say. “Why would you do that?”

“Call me crazy,” he takes slow steps towards you, your arms fall at your sides even though you feel more tense than ever, “but I think a promotion should be earned.” 

You're still waiting for the punchline but when there's only an inch between you, you look up into his dark eyes, open and honest and find your wilful thoughts faltering.

“You've worked harder than anyone in this company to do that and I've expressed that to our managers. You've not been recognised for all the work and revenue you've bought in for them. If I'm honest, I think you'd be better off elsewhere, but that's not my business.” He holds his hands up, surrendering before you can snap at him again. Only this time, your anger and annoyance has dissipated, left with only awe and bemusement in its place.

Your eyes narrow at him, still unwilling to completely let go of the distrust you hold. He smiles at your suspicion. “Feel free to go in and ask Mark, he is my witness, I'm a man of my word.”

There's a long pause, unwavering eyes on one another in the empty corridor, before he swallows and looks at his feet, shifting awkwardly on the spot.

“Anyway, I just wanted you to know. I'll see you around y/n.” 

He starts off towards the exit doors and something inside you rises up, unwillingly to stop this conversation, the words fly out of your mouth, “why are you being so nice, now?” 

He turns and smiles sadly, “I've been trying to be nice to you for months.”

Instantly, you're ready to argue but he puts a hand up to stop you, “you assume the worst of me and I'm not really sure why?”

For once you are at a loss for words, thinking back to every conversation you've had recently, could you have misinterpreted him? Or was he right, and you've just been looking for a negative brush to tar him with?

“But you're always so…” you're unsure where to start but decide on the least offensive first, “loud.”

“Did it ever occur to you that perhaps, I'm trying to get you to notice me?”

Your eyes snap across to his, feeling sure you would see the teasing in his eyes and when you don't, you feel more confused than ever. “Well, what about this, you tease me so often I never know when you're serious.”

He takes a step towards you. “I tease you to make you laugh.”

“But what about when you're always showing off?”

Another step closer. “Once again, trying to get you to notice me.”

You're desperately trying to connect a puzzle in your head but the pieces just don't seem to fit.

“But why?”

He laughs, shaking his head at you and swiping a hand through his hair, a move that he makes looks so devastating, your thoughts still. “I like you, y/n, I have since I started working here. I was hoping our fiery banter would turn into something more but…I never realised how much you despised me until tonight.”

A rock of guilt and disappointment lands in the pit of your stomach at his words.

“I'm sorry, truly, I didn't mean for there to be any miscommunication or to have upset you in any way. I should have just been up front and honest sooner,” he explains, making you feel worse.

Standing here looking at him now, how sincere and exposed he is, you realise what an idiot you've been.

The office is always full of laughter when he's around, something you'd assumed was at your expense, but he was aiming for your laughter instead. He was always speaking up in meetings, trying to pitch his ideas, you'd assumed he was talking over you and attempting to prove he's better, but it was all for your attention. Every compliment he'd given you had seemed sarcastic and full of mocking, instead he was just being awkward and unsure of how to communicate with you.

“No,” you say, closing the distance between you, “I was wrong, I read you completely wrong, all due to my own stubborn and selfish thoughts. I'm sorry, Jackson.”

The blush that crept across his cheeks was something you'd never imagined and made him look even more handsome. 

A slow melody sounds around you, echoing down from the main function. 

He clears his throat and holds out a hand to you. “Could I be so bold as to ask you to dance?”

You hesitate, although you're surprised at how badly you want to. “Here?”

He nods, a breathtaking smirk plays on his lips and needing no more encouragement, you take his hand and let him pull you to him. His arm wraps around your waist, holding you to him as your feet move perfectly in sync, slow and deliberate.

Neither of you say a word for the entire song, just enjoying the closeness, though unexpected and when the music stops so do your feet.

“I always thought you hated me.” You can't help the nervous laughter that escapes as your bodies remain pressed together.

He looks down at you, hooking a finger under your chin, “I'd rather fight with you, than be with anyone else.” 

You realise now how serious he is, how much he means everything he's said to you and…much to your surprise, how much you want him too.

Without overthinking or second guessing, you grab the lapels of his blazer and pull him down towards you. He eagerly obliges. Not before cupping your face with gentle hands and touching his lips, softly but assertively to yours.

Your mouths explore each other in a passionate dance, tongues swirling and lips moving together perfectly, until you're both breathless and pulling away, fighting for air. 

“You wanna get out of here?” You ask, your core throbbing with an unexplored want. 

He nods frantically, pulling out his phone and requesting a cab. 

“Come on, 2 minutes.” He takes your hand and pulls you towards the exit but as you leave the main doors and the chilly night air hits you, you remember someone.

“Wait, I need to find Mark.”

“No need, princess,” Mark's voice sounds from behind and you spin to see him casually leaning against the wall. “I'm waiting for a taxi as we speak, you go and have fun.” He winks at you and you resist the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl.

“See Mark, I knew I liked you.” Jackson says before leading you back down the steps and to your waiting car.

“Hurt her and I'll break you in half!” Mark calls out and you can't help but laugh, knowing how serious he is.

As Jackson pulls open the door of the cab you slide in, he follows you in quickly and slams the door.

“Your place or mine?” He asks.

“Mine’s closer.” You rattle off your address to the driver, before your mouth is on Jackson’s again.

Feeling needy and eager as his hands explore a pathway down your body, you resist the urge to climb on top of him.

“Did I mention how good you look in that dress?” He whispers against your lips.

“Not really no,” you respond, as your lips make their way down his neck, relishing the way his breath hitches in his throat. 

“As soon as I saw you tonight, all I could think of was peeling this off of you.” He grabs at the material around your legs, bunching up to reveal your flesh. His fingers skate slowly up your thigh but he pauses and grabs them instead, letting out a frustrated growl. “I’ve wanted you for so long, these last few moments feel unbearable.”

You feel powerful and confident as you decide to make matters worse for him. Gliding a hand up his muscular thigh until you reach his crotch, you can feel his erection through the fabric of his trousers and you palm at it teasingly. He sucks in a breath and then holds it, biting his bottom lip with pleading eyes aimed at you. Smiling, you have to resist the urge to unzip him right there but the car comes to a stop, much to your relief.

Jackson tips the driver and helps you out of the vehicle. 

Grabbing his hand, you race to your front door, fumbling to find your keys in your purse with the other hand. He presses the front of his body against your back, his hands wandering all over you, exploring an urgent pathway that makes you want to melt against him. The click of the lock has you growling with fervour, as you roughly push your way inside your apartment. Spinning, your lips are on his, burning with a passion you've never experienced, as your hands are whipping off his tie and rapidly tackling the button on his trousers. Your hands slide up under his shirt while he clumsily tries to undo the buttons, you however, have no time for that. Ripping open his shirt, and hearing the spray of the buttons as they scatter around your living room floor.

“Sorry.” You whisper breathlessly.

The smile you feel against your mouth tells you he doesn't care one bit, and before you know it, you're stumbling through your bedroom until your back knocks into your dresser.

His hand grasps the back of your knees suddenly, and before you can register, he's scooping your legs up and lifting you onto the wooden top. He glides the material of your dress up and over your head, only briefly breaking the contact between your bodies, before slotting himself in between your legs

His fingers find the hem of your underwear and pull them off quicker than you anticipate, having to hold yourself onto the edge of your dresser.

Your fingers run along the hard muscles of his chest and down his stomach, you're desperate to have him inside you. No thoughts of teasing and drawing this out, you wanted him to quench this unbearable thirst, now.

Reaching inside his briefs, you free his erection from its clothed prison, he's rock hard in your hand and you can't help the desperate whine that escapes you. Lining him up to your entrance, you use your legs to guide him in. 

He pulls his lips off you and searches your eyes, cupping your face in his hands. “Are you sure?”

You nod frantically, “please, Jackson, I need you.” 

His mouth connects to yours, more hungry and desperate than before and he pushes himself forward slowly, sliding into you and stretching you open.

The resounding groan from the two of you, sounds animalistic and raw. No holding back, just giving in to your feelings and desires. 

Watching each other intently, panting with excitement, time seems to slow down. The mood changes around you. Having him in such an intimate manner opens your eyes, seeing him clearer than ever, as if for the first time. You hold his face, pulling him down to you with a kiss that's different, not full of eagerness and impatience, but comfort and understanding.

When he bottoms out in you, he pauses, savouring the moment between you, tongues dancing softly together but it's not long before you find your impatience growing again. With your legs hooked around the back of his, you pull him forward, and grind yourself up against him, willing him to move.

He grunts and gets the message before he's pumping in and out of you in a perfect rhythm, making your heart pound wildly in your chest, so loud you can hear the echo in your ears, thumping away.

He grabs at your bra and pulls it down, freeing your breasts, his hands are on them in an instant, massaging them.

The sound of your dresser squeaking under the movements and pressure beneath you, only turns you on more, at this point, it could collapse under you and you'd still continue on their tirade.

Your hands find his buttocks, squeezing the flesh as you control his movements, wanting him harder and faster, the pressure building up inside at an alarming rate. 

You admire his body, toned to perfection, your gaze travelling up to watch his face, as his eyes are solely focused on his dick sliding in and out of you. The groans coming out of him are so sinful it makes you feel hot inside, too hot, like your skin could burn off your body at any minute and as the pressure inside grows intense, you realise you're dangerously close to a very powerful orgasm.

“Just like that,” you gasp, unable to say much more from the pleasure tightening everything and strangling your words.

“You close, baby?” He asks, eyes on your face as you nod. He smiles, looking pleased with himself, “I want to see how pretty you look when you come.” He bites his own lip, as if trying to hold off his own climax. The idea of that is all you need for the pleasure bubble inside you to pop and your body contracts aggressively around him, as you’re blinded by white light. 

“Oh, yes.” He whispers, as he holds your face towards him, while he helps you ride out your high. The pulses continue on until they die down and suddenly he's pulling out of you and pumping himself with his hand, until he explodes all over your stomach and chest, leaving white ropes of ecstasy as evidence on your skin.

Leaving your head on his chest, trying to catch your breath, he strokes the skin on your back.

After a few peaceful moments, he places his knuckle under your chin and lifts your head up towards him, planting a tender kiss to your lips.

“Come,” he says, pulling up his trousers and then scooping you up in his arms to take you to your bed.

Your eyelids feel heavy and you can feel the adrenaline leaving your body as you curl up into his side, the last thing you remember is his lips against your forehead.

*

Opening your eyes, you're met with bright sunlight streaming through your window, you can hardly keep them open. Rolling from your front to your side and feeling for your phone on the bedside table, you check the time. 10.05. Not too late for a Sunday. Glancing down you notice your naked body, as the memories from last night's events come back thick and fast as you sit bolt upright, eyes darting around the room.

“Jackson!” You call out through the ajar bedroom door, wondering if he's somewhere else in the flat.

Silence. 

Your stomach sinks slightly. Did you fall for a complete fabrication of feelings for a one night stand? Checking your phone; there's no missed calls or messages from him. Flopping back down on your bed, you pull the sheet over your head, feeling embarrassed and stupid and wanting nothing more than to hide away from the world. How were you going to face him at work tomorrow? Did any of your colleagues see you leave together? The thought churns your stomach, regret starting to seep in, hurting your chest with every new thought or worry. 

A noise in the distance distracts you momentarily from the chaotic thoughts using your brain as a roundabout. You sit up, hearing someone moving around in your kitchen, could it be him? 

You get out of bed quickly and quietly, pulling on some shorts and a vest, giving yourself a quick check in your mirror, that's when you notice your makeup and other items that neatly sat on your dresser, scattered all over the floor. A flush travels up your neck with the images from last night. 

You swallow them down and tiptoe out into the open plan living room and kitchen.

There he stands, dressed in his suit trousers and shirt, at the counter, putting something on a plate, humming quietly to himself. The sight pulls in your chest and you can't help the smile that pulls your mouth as you lean casually against your door frame.

He turns towards you, carrying a tray with what looks like an iced coffee, panini, a plastic bowl of fruit and pancakes. When his eyes notice you, he freezes, his cheeks flush red briefly as he beams at you. A smile so captivating you can't believe you didn't appreciate it before.

“Hi,” you break the silence first.

“Morning,” he says, dreamily, then shaking his head as if to snap himself out of his daze, he adds, “I thought you might like breakfast. I didn't know what you'd like, so I got a selection.” He stands there, seeming awkward, his usual confidence gone. 

You walk towards him, taking the tray and placing it on your dining table. “It all looks amazing, and very thoughtful. Thank you, there is something I'd like for breakfast.” 

He frowns, bewildered from your actions, as you watch his Adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows. You close any distance between you, playing with his shirt and notice the question in his eyes.

“You.” You reply, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

He's on you in an instant, lips dancing hungrily with yours as he lifts you and carries you into the bedroom, leaving your breakfast waiting for when you've stated the hunger you feel for him.