#but i do have a chapter that will be ready to post soon

[lily-fics-11]

I Can See You: Chapter 9 (Ellie Williams, TLOU)

I Can See You

Fic master post here

*Not beta read

Chapter 9

A night out at a party and a day l in bed with Ellie.

Word count: 3.7k

CW: *Ellie and reader are both 18*, profanities, sexual innuendo/references, drinking, mentions of weed, sexual situation that almost gets smutty

On Friday night you and Ellie text until she passes out. You can tell she was trying to stay up to talk to you because she fell asleep without saying goodnight.

In the morning, she sends you an adorable good morning text and apologizes profusely for falling asleep on you. 

You text a lot throughout the day and in the evening, you go over to Nicole’s house to eat dinner and get ready for the party. 

About a million questions are asked about your date with Ellie before you’ve even made it all the way into the house. 

Getting ready all together you eat dinner, do your hair and makeup, and help each other pick out what to wear.

Upon arriving at the party with your friends you all grab drinks. 

Ellie wasn't there yet but she must have arrived soon after because within 15 minutes of being there you feel arms wrap around your waist and you smell the familiar scent of the woodsy fragrance she wears. 

“Hello beautiful,” she whispers in your ear. You turn around in her arms to kiss her. 

“Hi pretty girl,” you smile widely, seeing the way that the nickname flusters Ellie.

When you turn back towards your friends, she smiles at them and waves. 

“It’s nice to see you guys,” Ellie says to them.

“You too!” Teresa says with excitement. Melissa gives her a smile and a nod. Nicole smirks looking at Caroline’s reaction, she is looking Ellie up and down with suspicion. 

“Do you mind if I steal her for a few minutes?” Ellie asks nervously, directing the question at everyone but glancing nervously at Caroline.

“Of course!” Teresa answers for everyone. Nicole and Melissa laugh at Caroline, who Ellie is looking at for the final verdict.

“Fine,” Caroline sighs, seeing how happy you are and how desperate Ellie is for approval.

Ellie thanks them and takes you by the hand over to her friends.

Brooke is the first to say hi, she lets go of her boyfriend Danny to give you a hug which you were not expecting.

“Uh, hi?” It comes out as a question because you weren’t expecting such a warm greeting. 

“It’s so nice to meet you!” She says that like she’s never seen you before, despite that fact you’ve been going to the same school since kindergarten. 

“It’s nice to meet you too…” You play along for Ellie’s sake. It’s not worth getting into. 

Danny shakes your hand and introduces himself.

Mark does the same, but being the player that he is he’s clearly checking you out. He pats Ellie on the back and smirks. “Nice!”

Anna and Tim who are suspicious of you study you, though they seemed surprised by how attractive you are. They probably heard that you were her tutor and expected some movie cliche. They reluctantly say hi.

“It’s nice to meet you guys,” you smile at them, praying that you’re making a good first impression. 

“So… you’re Ellie’s girlfriend.” Anna asks as if she doesn’t quite believe it.

“Yeah,” you smile, loving the sound of being called that.

“Ellie’s first girlfriend! It’s so exciting!” Brooke practically sings. She’s clearly been waiting for this moment for a long time. 

“You are not what I expected,” Mark chuckles, still checking you out. Ellie gives him a little shove, they both laugh and he rolls his eyes, begrudgingly stopping his eyes from wandering over your figure. 

“You’ve made Ellie and I better friends, we’ve bonded over having really awesome girlfriends.” Danny kisses the top of Brooke’s head. 

Looking at Ellie you reply “that’s so sweet.”

“Now I don’t have to worry about calling girls the wrong name”, Mark laughs.

“Have you actually done that?” You laugh. 

“Well I’ve done it on purpose twice, those girls were bitchy to Ellie and I wanted to piss them off. The other… I’m not sure how many times… those were all accidents. I swear!”

The whole group starts laughing, as if that is not at all true. Brooke and Danny make small talk, congratulating you on being the valedictorian and your Ivy League acceptances. Ellie told them all about it, they said she’s so proud of you. The small talk comes to a natural end after discussing your days and Ellie’s lacrosse and the weather. It went better than expected and you are very grateful for that.

With her arm around your waist Ellie gets drinks for both of you. Alcohol isn’t necessary for you to have a good time together but there’s nothing wrong with a little buzz. After making your way back over to your friends and Ellie successfully chatting with them the two of you finish your drinks and grab more. Once they are poured Ellie takes you by the hand and drags you to where people are dancing.

“I didn’t think you were much of a dancer,” you tease Ellie and she smirks. “I’m not, but I want to see you dance, baby.”

Wrapping your arms around Ellie’s neck she firmly plants her hands on your waist. Her grip is possessive, anyone that looks at the two of you will know that you are hers. It’s not a way she’s ever been with another girl. She’s never felt the way she does about you about anyone else. You begin moving to the music, Ellie watches in awe of how hot you are. 

Out of the corner of your eye you notice a lot of eyes on you. You and Ellie together is not something that anyone expected. 

People were watching when you started dancing and people watched you all night. It makes you anxious at first but eventually you finish your third drink and are having too good of a time to care. With Ellie holding you like this you could do just about anything. 

At the end of the night Ellie doesn’t want to say goodbye. Neither do you, but she’s a little more dramatic about it. The couple of drinks she had, it ended up being a few more than you, certainly aren’t helping. But her clinginess is just so damn cute. 

With her arms around your waist and her face in the crook of your neck she whines “Baby I’m going to miss you so much!”

“Me too pretty girl, how about we hang out tomorrow? It’s spring break this week so I don’t have to get any homework done.”

Ellie perks up and pulls away to look at your face. “Really?!”

“Of course, Ellie. I’m your girlfriend, so I kind of like you!” You giggle at the way her mood changed so suddenly at the thought of getting to see each other. The way her face lights up with excitement makes you want to kiss her all over it. You settle for a kiss on her nose and she giggles too.

Ellie Williams? Giggling? Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe she’s just that down bad for you. Probably both. 

The kiss goodbye that Ellie gives is over the stop. Long, drawn out, and romantically passionate. When she pulls away from you a goofy grin is plastered across her flushed face. Is she blushing from the alcohol or from that kiss? Probably both.

Your friends are watching nearby. Caroline is over it, Nicole thinks PDA is gross, Melissa is laughing at those two, and Teresa looks like she’s watching a Nicolas Sparks movie. As for Ellie’s friends, Brooke and Danny are too busy sucking each other's faces to really notice, Mark left with a girl a while ago. The other two are actually waiting next to your friends for Ellie, surprisingly, though they are getting pretty impatient. 

Nicole’s older sister picks you and your friends up. Everyone is buzzing about Ellie. 

Back at Nicole’s house it’s hard to go to sleep, thinking about and texting, Ellie but eventually you pass out. 

The next morning you wake up to a good morning text from Ellie and she wants to pick you up from Nicole’s house so you can hang out as soon as possible. You talk her out of it so that you have time to shower and make yourself look nice for her before hanging out.

After leaving Nicole’s you go home and get ready, opting for cute but comfortable clothes since you are just hanging out around her house today. 

Once you are ready and drive over you arrive at Ellie’s in the early afternoon. You wave to Joel, who is outside mowing the lawn before Ellie lets you in. 

She grabs you by the waist and drags you in for a long kiss.

“Hello beautiful,” she smiles, admiring your face after she kisses you. 

Ellie takes you into her room and it’s even more Ellie than you expected. The space posters, the knickknacks and figurines, plus a ton of hand drawn sketches. 

“Did you make those?” You ask, pointing up at the drawings.

“The sketches? Yeah!” Ellie says as if it’s obvious. 

“You never told me you could draw!” You exclaim, playfully punching her arm. 

Ellie shrugs and blushes a little. “It’s just something I do for fun sometimes.”

A charcoal drawing of a T-Rex catches your eye, you get a little closer to it and notice the intricate details. “Ellie, this is really good. And I’m not just saying that you’re really talented.”

Looking back at Ellie her gaze is fixed on the floor. “Thanks,” she says sheepishly. That shy little look on her face melts your heart. You close the distance between the two of you and tilt her face back up to look at you with your index finger on her chin.

“You never cease to amaze me, Ellie Williams. You’re such a special girl,” you tell her softly. 

“I… but… I’m not… that special,” Ellie stutters, averting her gaze, freckled cheeks blazing red. 

“Look at me Ellie.” You firmly but gently tell her and she looks up, her eyes similar to that of a little puppy. “I think you are the most special girl in the world.”

“You are!” She replies a little defensively, as if only one of you is allowed to be, and that makes you giggle.

Ellie wraps her arms around you and kisses your forehead before nuzzling her face into your neck. “What did I do to deserve you?” She asks as if it’s some sort of philosophical question. 

“You won trivia,” you tease. 

She pulls away from you and you see that her eyes are closed. “Close your eyes!” She requests with excitement.

“Why?” You laugh. 

“Just do it.” Sighing, you close your eyes, unsure of what she is up to.

“I didn’t know the color of your eyes that day that I played trivia, but I do now.” Ellie goes on to describe your eyes in vivid detail. She starts with the color. Ellie compares your eyes to different things in nature she has noticed that remind her of you because they are the same color. 

“There is so much passion in your eyes, but also compassion and empathy. Then there’s all that determination and wisdom beyond your years. I love the way they light up when you get excited about something. Like when I get a question right on my homework? Seeing that happiness in your eyes just makes it ten times better. You look at me in a way I only dreamed of being looked at.”

It almost brings you to tears, the way she talks about your eyes and admires them as if they are a priceless work of art. Ellie places a gentle kiss on your lips when you are left speechless. After she pulls away you open your eyes to see her smiling at you.

“I’m so happy you are mine,” she whispers as if saying it too loudly would jinx it.

“Me too Els.” You smile and she blushes at the nickname. 

“You’re MY girlfriend.” Ellie says after getting distracted by looking at your face for a long moment. “That’s crazy.”

“So crazy.”

“The craziest.”

The two of you cuddle up in bed together to watch movies after deciding on Star Wars. 

At one point you pause the movie and go to the bathroom, when you come back Ellie ambushes you with a lightsaber. 

“If this was real you would be dead!” She says quite seriously, as if getting attacked with a lightsaber is something that you should be concerned about actually happening. 

“Maybe if I wasn’t unarmed, I would stand a better chance,” you tease. 

“You’re absolutely right,” she sighs and opens her closet to pull out another lightsaber. She hands it to you, and you start swinging it around, trying to get the hang of it. 

Ellie gets into a fighting stance and so do you, giggling at how cute and nerdy she is while being so serious. Ellie starts doing these crazy tricks, like this is something she practiced in her free time. If these were real lightsabers, you would be done for. 

Ellie laughs at you with so much affection. “I think sticking to tutoring is your best bet babe. You’re about as good at fighting with a lightsaber as you are at playing lacrosse.”

“That’s because I don’t have any training!” You defend yourself. 

“Then you can be my padawan. I will teach you the Jedi way.”

“Why thank you baby. Now I can protect myself from the dark side.”

Ellie wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you to her for a kiss. “I gotta take care of my girl.”

The lightsaber practice worked up quite an appetite, so you search her kitchen for a snack. She finds a box of cookie mix.

“We could make cookies,” she suggests.

“Have you ever baked anything before?” You question, feeling like she is more the type to forget to eat then to go through the effort of making something like cookies. 

Ellie shrugs. “I know how to get baked.”

“Oh I’m sure you,” you giggle. “And to be quite honest, I can’t imagine that you’re any good at baking. This type of baking.”

Ellie clutches her chest in mock offense. 

“Come on Ellie, when was the last time you baked anything in this oven?”

“Honestly? Joel and I don’t really bake. This was supposed to be for the lacrosse team bake sale but we were worried it wasn’t going to come out good so we bought something at the store instead,” Ellie admits with a sigh. 

“Since you are so kindly teaching me how to use a lightsaber I will teach you how to bake,” you kiss her cheek.

Ellie focuses on the task at hand, determined to make the best cookies you have ever tasted. “Only the best for my girl!” She keeps saying. 

Following your instructions, she is meticulous. You got the instructions from the box, but she wants to hear them from you. She says that because you are her tutor she learns things better from you then from reading it. 

After the dough is ready and put in the oven the two of you get in her bed together while the cookies bake. You sit with your arms encircling Ellie’s waist, head on her shoulder, her chin on the top of your head. Her arm is around you and she occasionally plays with your hair. 

At some point while you wait Joel announces his departure for the rest of the afternoon, making sure to comment on how good the kitchen smells and asking you to save some for him.

When the timer goes off you have to stop Ellie from sticking her hand into the oven and pulling the tray out without an oven mitt. She was so excited to have made cookies for you that she forgot. You also have to remind her that they need to cool, and you can’t eat them right away and she is disappointed, highly anticipating your review in hopes of impressing you.

The cookies eventually cool down enough to be eaten. Ellie looks at the tray and picks out what she claims is the best cookie for you to try. 

She watches you expectantly as you take the first bite. It came out really good and you smile when you taste it, Ellie's look of anticipation turns to triumph. 

“Since you made it for me, this is the best cookie I’ve ever had?” You tell her.

“Really?!” Ellie questions. 

“Yes, really!” You giggle. “Is there anything you aren’t good at?”

“Resisting your charm and beauty. Being away from you. Paying attention to anything other than you when we are together,” Ellie starts to list her weaknesses, all jokes aside. 

You kiss her cheek and tell Ellie how cute she is.

“You are even cuter,” she smiles, holding your face in her chin 

Picking up a cookie you hold it out to her. “Going to try one of the cookies?”

“I was so excited for you to try it that I forgot,” Ellie admits. Instead of taking the cookie into her own hand she just takes a bite out of it while you hold it. A bunch of crumbs fall and she tries to catch them but they fall to the floor. 

“Oops,” her cheeks go a little red, her mouth full, but then she finishes chewing. You just giggle at how endearing she is, how impossibly adorable she can be even if she’s talking with her mouth full. 

The two of you bend down at the same time to clean up the crumbs and bump heads. You both fall over laughing, in the middle of the kitchen floor. Ellie gets up first after picking up the crumbs and throwing them out. Then she turns to help you up. Ellie pulls you off the ground and into her arms. She presses her lips to yours gently. She tastes like cookies. And also joy and happiness and magic.

Forgetting about the cookies she drags you into her room. Before you know it she is hovering over you, straddling your waist on her bed. Ellie’s hands are on either side of your head while she stares into your eyes. She does that for a moment, she admires you, before lowering her face to yours and kissing you. 

Ellie tries to take her time, be sweet and gentle, but you are impatient and she doesn’t stop you when you deepen the kiss. The two of you have been dying to do this. You’ve spent time being sweet with each other and excitement has gotten the best of you both. You grab her by the back of the neck and press her closer to you. Your teeth biting at her bottom lip before sliding your tongue over it. 

Ellie parts her lips and your tongue slides into her mouth, tasting her and savoring it. The two of you explore each other's mouths before she pulls away to start peppering kissing along your jawline and down your neck. At first she is gentle, then starts nipping and sucking, trying to find a sweet spot. When she does it elicits a moan from you, she smiles against your neck before focusing on that spot, shamelessly leaving a mark. 

Ellie is possessive, and you like that. Love it.

Her kisses trail down to your collarbone and she’s stopped from moving lower by your shirt. She paws at the hem until you lift your arms over your head so she can pull it off. You’re wearing something cute underneath… which is obviously a coincidence and not at all planned… Ellie stops to admire it, a cocky smirk on her face. 

“Wear this just for me?” She teases.

“Oh no. ‘Course not. Just happened to put it on this morning,” you giggle and Ellie playfully rolls her eyes before continuing to leave kisses on every inch of exposed skin beneath her. 

“You look good for me baby girl. All for me,” she whispers against your skin, her warm breath and possessive tone sending shivers down your spine. 

“All for you,” you tell her and she looks at you hungrily, loving the sound of those words coming out of your mouth. When you realize just how much it turns you want to feed into it.

“Ellie, I'm yours. Your girl, you girlfriend. I want you. I need you. I’ve been wanting this for so long. I’ve been… aching… for this. Since our first kiss. I’ve known since then that I had to have you.”

Ellie moans when she hears that. “Fuck pretty girl,” and she pulls your back off the bed just enough for you to take off your bra and discard it. She connects her mouth to one of your nipples and as much as your head wants to fall back in pleasure she looks too good like this not to watch. Her mouth eventually gives attention to your other nipples and then trails down your body to the waistband of your pants.

Ellie’s long fingers start to fiddle with the string on your pants, eyes meeting yours. The green in her eyes is hardly visible, her pupils blow so wide with lust. She bites her lip, asking for permission and you nod, so she slowly unties the pants. 

Once the pants are untied Ellie pulls them down, eyes taking over her legs as she does. Ellie’s mouth looks like it is about to start watering at the sight of you in just your underwear after the pants are discarded. She runs her hands up and down your bare legs before leaning in and placing gentle kisses on the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. The tenderness of Ellie’s lips on that delicate skin that makes you mumble “more.” 

That sets Ellie over the edge.

Underwear hooked on her fingers Ellie practically whips them off of you, neither of you know where they land and she dives right into you.

A/N: I didn’t know how smutty to get here guys and I’ve been going back and forth on whether or not to take it any further but I’m leaving it off here so y'all can let me know if you want more! That’s why the word count is a little lower than usual lol. Also sorry for being a liar because I said this chapter would be out before Christmas. Turns out I ended up briefly crashing out and also had trouble making decisions. I love you all and wish you all a Happy New Year❤️ 

Tags: @bready101, @st4r-b3rries, @tlou-bombshell, @stvrs13, @everegretseverything, @mikellie , @lamolaine, @0pheli4 , @soupycloud, @radioheadfan699 , @callmelola111, @hysteriawillnotsuccumb , @normalthing111 , @3isosoup, @lmaoo-spiderman, @cqliflower, @ellstronaut, @boobdrug, @liasxeatt , @that-queer-fanbase , @benthoee, @charminglilly , @ellieslittleslutt, @dinanellie, @h4by43iie, @autisticintr0vert

[peoniesnro]

In Another Universe

#13. Falling Deep and Down

Synopsis – When you are just another iteration of Park Jimin’s girlfriend in a different universe.

Park Jimin × Reader

Genre – parallel universe / kind of fantasy/ strangers to ??/ SMUT/ maybe romance/ angst/ fluff /Infidelity

Warnings- Language/ Angst / INFIDELITY /NO SMUT (This is a warning)

Word count- 17k ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

a/n- Firstly, HAPPY NEW YEAR BABIES!!!! (I know I'm late but it still counts). Secondly, yay!!! the first chapter of the new year and I finally managed to make it shorter than the previous one. And hell this one took so long. I'm so sorry for the long wait. I hope you'd enjoy the chapter, though. I'd say this chapter is the calm before the storm. That's why there's no SMUT (Sorry @jimincrystal this is one of those unavoidable situations. Otherwise I'd have ended up writing 30K+ words). So, happy readings guys. (Thank you for reading like always ❤️)

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You sit in Kim’s kitchen. Eyes glued to your phone. You’ve watched this same video repeatedly at least dozens of times now. Still, you can’t find it in yourself to stop. You’re not surprised at all to say the least. You completely expected to find a video floating all around the internet as soon as you woke up this morning. That’s such a normal thing in this era. People usually post the most mundane things. Hence, there’s no surprise they posted a woman getting slapped in a crowded club. But still, you know that they didn’t post it because of you. Whoever recorded the video did it because of Liya. And Jimin. And all the other high profiles there.

The good thing is, however, that the video isn’t clear. You can’t really make out who’s slapping who. Both yours and Liya’s faces are completely hidden from the frame. And the quality is shittier than a VHS tape left on a rain. The videographer was either clearly drunk or didn’t know how to use the video feature. And you haven’t found any other video than this one. It’s surprising. You’d call it mere luck. But then it doesn’t make it any less of a problem. Even though you and Liya are hidden from the frame- surrounded by so many people- you can still make out Jimin’s and Jin’s face quite clearly. That makes you want to pull your hair. Can’t even imagine the ruckus this must be causing for them. Not that you can be of any help. You’re the one who caused all these problems in the first place.

“Anything interesting there?” You snap your eyes away from your phone screen to look at Mrs. Kim. Sitting next to you and peeling onions. “You’ve been watching that for a quiet some time now.” She explains further. It’s still early morning and there’s no business for you here. You should be getting ready for work, if anything.

Hell, no.

There’s no way you would go to work after all that. You’re beyond humiliated. You will not do the walk of shame. Mrs. Kim has been nagging you for a better thirteen minutes now. Asking why you are not going to work, but you’ve managed to brush off her questions. It seems like her questions aren’t over. You open your mouth wearily to tell her that it’s nothing when your phone is snatched away from you.

“Yah…” You mumble tiredly. Not even fully turning around to face Jungkook, who pocketed your phone instantly.

“I told you to stop watching the stupid video. What would you gain from watching it hundred times? it’s not like you gonna find anything new. It’s the same old shit every time.” He scolds you before turning around to mind his work. Apart from you, Jungkook is another person who has no business being here. He has classes. He needs to leave. Yet he doesn’t. Refuses to leave you alone as if you’d do something stupid. Well, what can you say? He’s Jeon Jungkook.

He won’t leave you alone. Hasn’t been since the very moment he walked you out of the club. He was there when you practically bite off your thumbs while you were on a cab. He was the one who yanked your hands away when you accidentally hurt yourself and started bleeding. He had panicked to see you bleeding as if it was your head instead of your finger. He was the one who instantly pulled you into his embrace when you finally broke apart. It was funny how you tried to keep it all inside, but it all burst out when you saw yourself bleeding. It was just a teeny wound, but you used that as an excuse. You cried and cried and cried. Wailed. Like you’ve lost someone who’s so dear to you. The case is that you really felt like that. You cried because you felt like you lost Jimin. Because of the humiliation. Because of the self-pity. In the end, there was Jungkook- holding you tight, mumbling soothing words in your ear. There was Jungkook, who refused to let you go. Who pulled you into his lap disregarding the cab driver. He had held you and rocked you. Until you managed to pull yourself together again. He was there the entire time and he’s still here.

“Give it back Kookie.” You turn around in your seat wearily. You’re absolutely exhausted from all the crying. Mentally wearied off that you’re barely even functioning.

“No. You’re gonna watch the same shit again.” He ignores you completely. You sigh heavily. You need your phone back. Not just to watch the video and feel the same hot embarrassment over again. No. You need it to see if Jimin has texted you. See now, you know that is so fucked up. After everything that happened. After Jimin walked after Liya and had watched you walk away with his hands around her. After the slap you received, you still want to hear from Jimin. At this rate, it just isn’t for satisfying your greedy self, however. You need to know whether he is okay. You need to know how it went. Not with Liya but with the video.

“You need to attend your classes. C’mon, you can leave me. I’ll be fine with Mrs. Kim.” You glance over at the said woman. She furrows her brows at Jungkook. Clicks her tongue.

“Are you skipping classes young man? Should I call your mom?” There’s a very serious warning look on her face. You would’ve laughed at that if it wasn’t for your zombie like state. Jungkook gives you a sneaky but disapproving look.

“I have no classes. Don’t worry darling, I’m gonna make you proud in the end. I’m better than Joonie. You know it.” Says dismissively. Winks at the poor woman and of course she eats the bait. You try to open your mouth but the sudden sound of kitchen door opening interrupts you. The new recruit- a young boy who stole your table wiping duties- appears on the doorway.

“There’s someone to meet you.” He awkwardly mumbles while gesturing at you. Your heart skips a beat instantly before it picks up the rhythm of beating. Weariness you were feeling, suddenly evaporating into thin air as you looks up at the boy with wide eyes. There’s someone to meet you. And that someone can very well be Park Jimin. Hope bubbles inside you. Only for it to pop out at his next words. “I- uh- I think that’s your sister. You two look alike.” He scratches his head stupidly. A heavy sigh leaves past your lips. That’s in disappointment. You feel so disappointed that even your eyes prick with new tears.

“You got to be kidding me.” You whip your head toward Jungkook at his sudden voice. Just in time to catch him, throw his apron away. Is already walking toward the door.

Oh, no!

You practically jump onto your feet. Startling poor Mrs. Kim as she watches you with wide eyes. You don’t pay her any mind as you sprint after Jungkook. Storming past the new boy who looks equally startled as Mrs. Kim. You have no idea how Jungkook moves that fast but when you enter the dining area, he is already face to face with a calm Liya. Staring her down. Or glaring her down.

“You’re not welcomed here.” Jungkook grits his teeth. You notice how tight his jaw is as you make it to his side.

“Jungkook!” You grab his arm. Try to make him turn away from Liya to no avail. He’s like a boulder. Doesn’t even budge. Yet Liya’s eyes fall on you instantly. For a brief moment before she looks back at Jungkook.

“Yeah? I don’t think I’ve done anything to be on the blacklist. Besides, you’re no one to put the CEO of The SE in a blacklist boy. So, if you just care to step aside─” Liya’s eyes shift from Jungkook to you again. She forces a smile which looks more like a sneer. “─ I’m here to have a word with my sweet sister.” Completes her sentence. Only that it makes Jungkook steps to his side, however. Completely guarding you from her view. You groan annoyingly. No one hears it.

“I don’t care if you’re damn CEO or the fucking president. Get your fucking ass out while I’m nice Ms. Kim." Jungkook is oozing venom. It’s weird to see him mad.

“Jungkook please.” You try again. Step away so you can see Liya again.

“Yes, Jungkook, listen to your little owner. Stop trying to be her guard dog since she looks like capable of doing lots of things without your help.” Liya gives Jungkook a mocking smile.

Okay, that’s it.

She can mock you all the much she wants. Can slap you, yell at you, publicly humiliate you, or anything else that makes her feel good. But she isn’t bringing Jungkook into this. No. This is where you won’t be just listening.

“He has nothing to do with this, Liya. Please, just leave him out of it.” You step forward. Bringing yourself to your full height. Your voice sharp. “You wanted to see me, what is it?” This time you manage to drag Jungkook an inch back.

“Noona!” He whisper yells. You just give him a stern look. He reads you well. Liya scoffs. Eyes shifting between you and Jungkook.

“Well, look at you. How sweet. Sticking for each other. You’re damn lucky sis.” Sighs. “And yes, I wanted to meet you. Hope, you’re not busy fucking someone else’s boyfriend.”

“Fucking leave!” Jungkook nearly plunges forward before you catch him. Turning around blocking his path. Place your palm on his chest. Looks at his face. He looks furious. Doesn’t look at you right away. But when he does, his features softens immediately.

“It’s fine Jungkook. Please. Let me handle this.” You mutter softly. Looks at him expectantly. For a moment, it looks like he would dare to kick Liya out of the restaurant. Then after a long second, just sighs. Takes a step back.

“Fine, but if she tries to hit you again, I want you to give her a blue eye.” Pouts at you. Apparently, doesn’t give a fuck about the fact that Liya can hear him. Waits until you agree. He can be insufferable sometimes. Yet you nod anyway.

……………………………………….

You patiently sit at a corner table at Kim’s. Where nobody in the kitchen can hear you. Since it’s still morning and there’s no breakfast serving, the entire restaurant is free of any patrons. Liya just blinks at your face. Her expression is calm and somewhat smug. It makes you want to scream. Curiosity and anxiety are eating you inside out. Whatever is the reason for her visit, you know that can’t be any good. You really wish you could snap at her. Ask her ‘what the fuck she wants’. Unfortunately for you, you can’t do something like that. Not when you feel like shrinking into a shrimp. Guilty. Ashamed. You can’t even look her in the eyes. You owe her the biggest apology. Yet you can’t bring yourself to do even that. It feels stupid. You need to try, though. She deserves at least that.

“Liya I-I’m so─”

“Don’t. I’m not here so you can apologize and find peace.”

You close your mouth which you opened to do just that. A wave of embarrassment ripples through you at her tone. Dismissive. Condescending. Your cheeks grow hot. It’d feel nice to be able to talk back. Defend yourself. How unfortunate that you’ve lost any right to do so.

“Then why are you here Liya? You gonna pay me to stay away from your boyfriend?” You mutter wearily. The exhaustion finding its way back to you. You have no energy to do this. Not now anyway. You know you’re wrong. You know you’re the biggest lying bitch. Yet you’re also human who feels drained off. You have to bite back the urge to cry hard.

Liya takes a minute. As if she’s processing your words as you keep eyeing her. Then all of a sudden, she crackles up with laughter. So loud that you recoil in your chair. Her giggles, which are like sweet venom, fill the entire space. For the people in the kitchen this might seem like an adorable moment for two sisters. Except for Jungkook, of course. You gape at her with an open mouth as she keeps laughing like you’ve made the biggest joke of the year. Okay, this is getting out of hand now. It is one thing not to be able to fight back when you’re the one who’s guilty. Still, it’s completely another to getting demeaned this way. You clench your teeth hard to keep your exhaustion and pain from turning into anger. It won’t get you anywhere. You need to be patient. And luckily it doesn’t take long. Liya puffs out a breath shortly after. Trying to sober from her blown out laughter.

“That was funny.” She croaks. You remain silent. You deserve this shit after all. You brought this on yourself. “Why would you ever think that I would pay. For you. To stay. Away from my boyfriend?” She leans forward to look you dead in the eye. “That’s so funny to even think. You’re the bitch here and you think I should pay you?”

“I didn’t say that Liya.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. Not wanting to bide your time with this woman. Yes, you’re wrong and you know that. Still, it doesn’t mean you have to do this. “All I’m asking is to get done with your business. Why are you here?” Liya’s smile vanishes at that.

“Okay, I like that you still have some nerves to act like you have any rights to do so.” Shrugs. You will yourself to stay calm. “So, how long are you gonna stay here? It’s like all my advice have been fallen into deaf ears. I asked you to leave as soon as you can sissy, you didn’t listen. Now look where we are. Look at the mess you have created. Do you have any idea how much trouble it caused us? Caused Jimin?” She raises one of her brows. You gulp harshly. That’s the part you’ve been afraid of. It caused Jimin problems. You feel your heart shatter.

“I- uh…” You try in vain to say something. You can’t. So, you just downcast your eyes to your lap. Heart heavy with guilt.

“Look, like I told you earlier, I really don’t want to fight with myself. Despite everything we’re still two versions of the same person. I mean it’s crazy how different we are, like I will never do something that cheap you know—” That condescending, smug smile finds its way back on her face. “—It’s cheap, what you did.” Adds. You shut your eyes for a moment.

Stay calm. Stay fucking calm.

If Jungkook ever heard that, he’d really hit Liya without caring for the fact that she’s a woman. But you need to remain calm. It’s your fault. It’s your wrongdoing. “But still, I hope we have at least some things in common.” Liya continues. “Like I expect that you want to preserve whatever still left in your dignity. I hope you’re smart. So, lil sis, I hope you’ll find this a chance to do the right thing.” You hate that she calls you sister. Why would she do that? To make you feel worse. You force yourself to look at her.

“If it isn’t for you, at least do it for the others. Like you have no idea how much of a damage you’re causing in Jimin’s life just because you’re wet.” You flinch at the word. Liya keeps going. “I think you’ve become friends with everyone. So, in that case, it’s safe to think that you won’t want to cause them harm now, will you? You don’t know how hard boys worked for the company. How much time and money they poured into it. And this?” She gestures at you. “A single mistake is enough to ruin everything. Jimin will lose everything and so will his friends. And I really wish you’re not someone who’d be that selfish.” Tilts her head. It takes you a second to realize that she’s expecting an answer from you.

“Wh-what do you want me to do? Just because you ask, I can’t stop coming here. It’s going to happen whether I like it or not.” You refrain from telling her the part where you only have a year. That’s none of her business. Liya smiles softly.

“That’s a shame but no. That’s not what I’m asking. All I’m asking is for you to stay away. It’s not that hard now, is it? If you really want to get- uh- lemme be straightforward- dicked down that badly—” She points toward the kitchen with her thumb. “Let me tell you that boy there would be more than glad to give you what you want.”

“Keep. Him. Out of it Liya.” You grit your teeth for the first time since she arrived. She chuckles at your glare.

“Okay. Whatever you want. It’s up to you anyway. What I want is for you to stay away. From Jimin and the company.” Her voice turns serious back again. “It’s not just my relationship with Jimin that you’re ruining. You’re ruining his career and future. All for what? A bliss that you could live for couple months until you inevitably return. Jimin would have to face all the consequences alone. Don’t be that selfish. You might be a little college girl who still doesn’t understand how harsh the world is. So, let me teach you sweety, it’s not one of those romance novels you read and Jimin isn’t a prince who’s going to sacrifice his career for you either. In the end, you’re going to ruin everyone’s life. Stay away. Resign.” With that she gets to her feet. The chair scrapes against the floor at the force she does that. “And listen to my words while I’m still being nice. Don’t think it’s just a mere coincidence that there is only one video and our faces aren’t clear. We had to go through hell to get everything cleared up.” Turns around.

Well, that makes perfect sense. And it makes sense why you’re not in any pain either. If your faces were clear in that video, people could’ve been confused who’s Liya. That certainly could’ve put you in pain. But you’re not in pain. Unless you don’t consider the way your heart aches right now. At what she said. At the implication. At how true every word she uttered. You’re a saboteur. A selfish bitch who ruined everything. You look up at her with glassy eyes. Of course, she is telling the truth, and you need to do as she asks. Liya is a smart woman, she had hit the nail right on the head. You would’ve thrown all the care out of the window when it comes to you, but you care about Jimin too much. Care about Hoseok. Taehyung. Seokjin. Care about each and every one. So, you will heed her words. Still, however, there has been a question that had made your head hurt to think.

“You suspected, didn’t you? There’s no way you could’ve been so oblivious.” Your voice comes out hoarse. Liya stops and partially turn around. She knows what you’re implying at.

“Of course, I did. I’m no fool. You two were too close. Emi always let me know how much time you spent in his office.”

“Then why?” You press your fingers into your thighs. “Why caused so much commotion if you knew?”

“No. I didn’t know. That’s completely two different things. I suspected. That’s it and I’m not happy to be found out that my suspicions were right. It hurt me. You know, I may not look like it, but I care about Jimin. I was with him for five years. And I will not allow anything or anyone to change it. To answer your question, that’s none of your business. Just know that everything I do have valid reasons. I don’t play for fun. I play for win.”

Her boyfriend.

You don’t stop her this time. Just watch her disappear with a blurry gaze. She steps out from the door at the same time when Jungkook enters. You don’t look at his face. Just because you want to hide your tears. He says nothing either. Places your phone in front of you on the table before sitting next to you. Pulls you into his embrace and you let him.

You wait that way until you finally feel like you can breathe again. Until Mrs. Kim calls out for Jungkook. So, you reassure him you’re fine. Wait till he’s gone to unlock your phone. Not knowing what you’re going to do when a new notification catches your attention. A new message.

I’m so sorry Spring Roll. Please don’t be mad at me. Let’s talk today? Meet me at my office, I’ll wait for you. – Park.

……………………………….

You truly didn’t want to do this. Not at all. Yet after sitting alone at the empty table for hours. Almost until the place started to fill with patrons, you came to a decision. Liya was absolutely right. You played with fire and nearly got everyone burnt in that. Not that you ever wished for it. Not even in your dreams that you wanted to cause any harm to Park Jimin or his friends. Now, though, since you have nearly come to it, this is your cue to finally do something about it. Grow up. Prove that you’re not a naïve college girl even though that’s who you are. You need to take responsibility for your actions. You need to apologize to people who deserve that. And lastly you need to step away from their lives and accept that yours is not a fairy tale even if it’s so full of wonders.

That’s your reason for being back here again in the RUN building. You are going to do it properly and end this. You are going to meet Hoseok and resign. Are going to apologize to him. To Taehyung and Seokjin. And of course, you are going to do the same with Park Jimin. You clench your fists into tight balls at the thought of him. Digging crescents into your palms. It hurts to think what you’re about to do. You haven’t replied to his text. Didn’t feel the need to do so. You don’t know what you’re going to tell him. You don’t know what he’s planning to tell you. That doesn’t matter, however. Like Liya said, there’s no point in your sneaky games. It’s better if you build the guts to end it now before Jimin will do it sooner or later.

Jimin isn’t a prince who’s going to sacrifice his career for you either.

Yes. That’s it. This will be the last time you walk across this lobby. So, you steel yourself not to look around you. It’s not like all of these busy people might have seen the video or know what happened. Still, you feel like walking through a forest of eyes. As if everyone is looking at you and laughing. Whispering. In reality, you know that no one gives a damn. Even with that, however, your palms are extra sweaty as you run toward the elevator. The doors nearly close as you rush toward them. You become almost convinced that you missed it when someone inside hurriedly stretch their arm to open the doors back. You swiftly push yourself inside with a soft ‘thank you’ before you raise your head to meet your helper.

“Oh!” It leaves your mouth involuntarily as you’re met with the wide eyes of Taehyung.

“Hey!” He mumbles in return as you bow to him slightly. He does the same to you. Fortunately, or unfortunately it’s just you two in the elevator. You decide it’s the latter when an uncomfortable silence falls between you as Taehyung presses the button to your floor. It’s awkward. It was never awkward with Kim Taehyung. He’s a social butterfly who’d make small talk with a blank wall. This is a testament to how uncomfortable you have made him. Or not. “Um... are you okay?” He surprises you with those next words.

“Huh?” You gape at him stupidly.

“You know. The video and all those shits. Didn’t expect to see you at work today.”

“Oh, I- uh- I’m fine Taehyung. I mean as fine as I could be. And I’m not here to work. I’m resigning.” You blurt out. Taehyung’s eyes go wide again.

“Wait, what? Why? You don’t have to do that. I mean—”

“Really. Tae?” You almost laugh at that. “You think I don’t have to do that after everything?”

“Well, it’s personal, isn’t it? It has nothing to do with the work and we took care of everything else. And if this is about Liya, she holds no power over what we should do in our company. You can continue to work as long as you wish.”

You sigh heavily. “You need to stop doing that Tae. I don’t know what’s all of your guys’ problem with Liya. But you need to admit that this is wrong. I don’t know how good or bad Liya is- I mean to you, but this isn’t okay.”

“Well, I didn’t say you should keep it up with Jimin. I’m saying that you shouldn’t give up on your job because of that.” Taehyung knits his eyebrows. This is the most serious you’ve ever seen him. It doesn’t suit him.

“And you think we’ll not end up doing it again if we’re in the same vicinity.”

“Why? You can’t resist each other?” A smile creeps on his face. Makes you roll your eyes.

“Don’t go there Kim Taehyung. Not the time.”

“Sorry.” That smile disappears. Yet you still prefer it when he is unserious. “But still, Li, don’t do this because of it. Jimin won’t like it. I don’t want him to blame himself. He cares, you know.” Taehyung looks at you expectantly. As if he’s waiting for you to confirm it. Say that you know. Well, do you know that? Maybe. You’re not sure. So, you do nothing but just stare back at him. That makes Taehyung chuckles. Almost in a pitiful way. “Gosh, I really want him to be able to do something. To have a choice. To be able to say fuck it and do whatever he wants.” Taehyung shoves his hands in his pockets. Throws his head back. You won’t ask him why Jimin can’t do that. Because you know he can’t. That leaves you with the question why Taehyung can’t do it.

It’s funny how you and him never had a one-on-one serious conversation. You despised him when you first met him. Then when you started doing same morally gray shits as him, you slowly start to like him. Still, you never asked him why he does what he does. “Then why can’t you Taehyung? I’m sure you’re not bound to have responsibilities as much as Jimin. Why don’t you just say fuck it and do whatever you want?”

“I am doing it aren’t I? I live my life the way I want.”

“Do you? Your life is as fucked as mine or Jimin’s. C’mon, no offense, but your relationship with Seoyeon isn’t the best now, is it? You act like you can’t even stand being in the same room as her.” You’re not even joking here. Taehyung sure does appear like trying to run away from his girlfriend half the time. “Why? Like, why are you still in a relationship that you can’t stand? Why cheating around and still keep her with you?”

Taehyung shrugs. His face turns grim. “I don’t know. I just feel bad.”

“Bad about what?”

“Just breaking up with her. Seoyeon isn’t bad as she appears.” Well, you don’t think she’s bad at all. “I just don’t love her. Never did. I don’t know why I asked her to be my girlfriend in the first place and when I realized I fucked up, it was already too late. I just don’t know how to commit. I can’t do that. It drains me off. And now I feel bad to leave her alone.”

“And you don’t feel bad to cheat on her? I know I’m not the person who should say this but that’s not fair. Not to her and not to you either. If you want to live a liberating life, then you should do it the right way. She deserves to have everything in her life too. Someone who’d love her and you’re keeping her away from that. It’s worse than breaking up with her.”

Taehyung blinks at your face. Opens his mouth to say something but is interrupted by the ding sound of elevator door opening. Well, you didn’t plan on having that conversation with Kim Taehyung. And you know you’re the last person who should give him moral advice. Yet you think yours and his situations are not entirely similar. You’re not the one who’s in a relationship. It’s Jimin. And you don’t know why Jimin fell into bed with you. You don’t know why he wanted to do it with you, especially when Liya and you are the same person. You don’t know what’s happening between Liya and Jimin. What makes them, them. All you know is that what you and Jimin did was a little escape from reality. Something that you both probably wanted. Maybe he was stressed, and you know your life was miserable. Now it’s time to end that. So, you just give Taehyung a final nod. Hoping he will not take offense to what you said. Puff out a breath as you look out through the elevator doors.

You planned different ways to do this the entire time you spent on getting ready and coming here. You knew it’s going to hurt. Saying goodbyes always sucks. You don’t even want to think how hard it’ll hurt to say it to Jimin. You need to do that, however. Can’t cower after you already made it this far. You almost step out while pep talking yourself mentally when Taehyung suddenly groans. You halt your movements to look at him. He is clutching his forehead.

“Oh, fuck he is here again.” Annoyance bounces off from his voice. Lets his hand fall down. Clenches his teeth. “I hate to see that fucking—” Gasps. Eyes wide and turning to look at you with a horrified expression. “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to uh…” Shakes his head violently. You furrow your brows in confusion. What on the earth is this man talking about? Why is he apologizing? “It’s just your father can be a teeny bit annoying sometimes.” Taehyung chuckles nervously. Your furrow deepens.

“What?”

“Your father.” Taehyung, yet aging holds his hand out to hold the elevator door. You turn away from him to check who he’s helping this time. You catch the sight of an old man in a pristine black suite walking toward the elevator. Talking with a woman next to him. Surrounded by too many people. “Mr. Kim, I mean- what I’m saying is that he is a good man but….” Taehyung keeps rumbling. Yet the words slowly start to fade away for you.

What now? Father? Mr. Kim?

A loud gasp leaves past your lips. Realization hitting you hard. Mr. Kim. As in Liya’s father. That man who’s currently walking toward you is that man. You watch in horror as he laughs aloud for something the woman said. His focus solely on the woman. You without even your knowledge have expected Liya’s parents to look like yours. But this man looks nothing like your father. No wonder that you didn’t know who he was when you first noticed him. That, however, doesn’t change the fact that you look exactly like his daughter. Liya. Not her twin since Mr. Kim has no two daughters. And he is about to face you. There’s no more than five feet between you. Taehyung is keeping the elevator on hold. When he finally notices you that’s going to blow your damn cover. He will address you as Liya and you’ll have to pretend to be her. That will put you in pain and everyone will panic. Taehyung will wonder why your own father can’t recognize you and there’ll be no way out of that. No explanations.

Fuck no!

Your body works in autopilot mode when you suddenly grab Taehyung’s arm. Whatever he’s been saying instantly dying on his tongue at your sudden movements. You yank him to your side at the same time you step behind him. Covering yourself by his broad figure right at the moment the old man finally turns his head forward.  

“What? What the hell are you doing?” Taehyung tries to step away and look at you. You hold on to his shirt.

“Oh, please. I can’t face him.”

“What? What are you—” His words get cut off when the party finally reaches the elevator.

“Taehyung.” You cover yourself more behind Taehyung as that deep voice addresses him. It’s a good thing that Taehyung is tall and broad. Yet you know it’s not enough to hide you completely from everyone’s eyes. You would have to do with this, however.

“M-Mr. Kim.” Taehyung nods at the man. Very uncomfortable as it’s clearly noticeable in his voice.

“You’re coming to work now?” Liya’s father questions again. You want him to leave soon. “No. I just had to left for some work.” Taehyung answers. Mr. Kim mumbles a quick okay in reply before he steps inside the elevator. Everybody else starts to fill in as well. Making Taehyung steps away to make space. Making you step with him to keep yourself covered. And luckily for you, he doesn’t try to walk away from you. Not even look at you. Just tries to exit the damn elevator while not turning his back to Kim. Walks backward facing people inside the elevator. Awkward. Weird. Still, it looks like he can pick up a sign. He may be the funny guy who does stupid things most of the time but can certainly be smart sometimes. You walk backward with him. Step out. Nearly sigh in relief.

“And who might be the lady hiding behind you?” Mr. Kim’s voice is laced with amusement. Of course, anyone can see you. You knew it. Just that you wished they wouldn’t question.

“Oh, uh- Seoyeon—” Okay, you take your earlier thoughts back. He’s definitely stupid. You pinch his back hard enough that he yelps. But recovers quickly. Laughs. “Not Seoyeon. That’s what I tried to say. Not Seoyeon at all. Why would she hide right? This is someone else—” You pinch his waist this time. “Actually, this is no one important. I’ll let you leave Mr. Kim. See you soon then. Yeah, bye!” Takes another step back. You take it with him. Then another and another until the elevator door closes. He waits few more seconds. As if to make sure everyone has left for real. Then like a thunder boom, turns around so fast that you flinch.

“What the fuck was that?” Both of you bellow at the same time.

“Why would you tell him I’m Seoyeon?” You’re the one who question first. Taehyung looks at you with an incredulous expression.

“Why the hell would you hide from your own farther?” Gestures at the now closed door. Well, you think that’s a more valid question than yours. Your shoulders slump as you smack your lips together.

“Uh- I guess Hoseok told you that I’m the family disgrace. It’s like... mm...” You shrug. “He really doesn’t like to see me.” Offer him a soft smile. Taehyung’s incredulous expression instantly morphs into a sympathetic one. Hoseok definitely has told them about that part.

“Yeah, shit, I’m sorry.” He mutters softly while roaming his eyes over your figure. Like he’s expecting you to break apart at any moment. Looks at you like you’re a stray kitten getting drenched in a storm.

“Yeah, life is hard.” You nod. Trying to mirror his sympathetic look. Not hard since you’re already in a somber mood.

“Yeah.” He nods too. “I’m really sorry Li. That must really suck, like him not being your biological father and then he’s only favoring one of you. That shit must be really hard. I can’t even imagine that.” Taehyung gives you a tight-lipped smile. Looks very genuine. Shakes his head. Yet, you almost don’t hear the last part. Eyes snapping to his face while your mouth falling opening.

“Wha—” The question nearly escapes your mouth before you catch your tongue.

“Huh?”

“N-nothing, I mean, yes. That sucks. Very.” You chuckles nervously. Taehyung pats your head. Turns around while you just blink at him.

What the hell?

Mr. Kim isn’t Liya’s biological father? Well, that explains a lot why he doesn’t look like your father. But how come you never knew that. How come nobody ever told you that. It’s not like people would tell you about your own family, but you’re surprised. More than surprised actually. Jimin should’ve told you. True, that you never really talked about Liya but still, you could’ve blown your cover stupidly. Guess, it’s a close call after all. You scrunch your eyes shut. Blow out a breath. Opening them back again to find Taehyung’s retrieving back.

It seems like it’s finally your time to get your business done. No matter how much you don’t want to do that. As in cue Taehyung turns around. Maybe he can read mind too.

“And Li? Just think about the resigning, we all love having you here.”

…………………….

Jimin feels like trapped inside his own skin. With no way out or enough air to breathe. He wants a way to escape this feeling. Yet he can’t find one. He is pacing around his office like a maniac. As how he always does. His phone is clutched tightly between his fingers as his eyes snap toward the screen every few seconds. There’s nothing. Every minute passes without his phone dinging without a notification from you intensifies his trapped feeling.

You haven’t replied to him. It’s been hours. He has sent you three more texts, and you’ve left him on read. And you never do that. Something discomforting settles inside Jimin. He knows he took far too long to contact you. He should’ve texted you way earlier. But he was so preoccupied with getting things sorted and under control. He didn’t even have time to eat a proper meal. Was doing his very best and everything to get rid of all the videos. To prevent it from landing in the hands of press. Keeping everything hidden and getting rid of the evidence. He had no time for anything else. Nobody did. Not Liya. Not his friends. Hell, Jimin and Liya didn’t even have time to fight like a normal couple would. Not that he’s complaining. But that’s the truth. He has sent you a text the very moment he was able to. And he doesn’t like how you’re ignoring him. It doesn’t make him mad. It makes him scared.

Scared because he knows he fucked up. Again. He failed you. Again. He abandoned you and made you seek refuge in someone else when he told you not to do so, just a minute ago before it happened. He’s a failure through and through. A coward. And now he’s afraid the consequences are about to get to him.

It’s simply Jimin didn’t even know what he was doing at that time. It all happened too fast for his liking. He doesn’t know if he had done the right thing. What’s the right thing anyway? What’s the winning side? In Jimin’s case there’s no winning side. He was bound to lose one way or the other. He doesn’t know what made him follow Liya. He doesn’t remember. Only thing he know is that this would’ve been so much more messed up, if he hadn’t.

Figure out your shit Jimin. There’s thousands of people on your hands.

Right? It’s not like he can make decisions for himself. His life is too cruel to be able to do so. If he has done the other way around, then this might’ve been the last day of him being in this office. His friends wouldn’t have looked at his face. His name would’ve been on paper. He would’ve lost everything he worked hard for. Everybody would’ve known how much of a loser he is. You would’ve known he was a fucking failure. That’s terrifying to even think. Now he has avoided all of those things, he should be feeling relieved and happy. The thing is, though, he feels nothing remotely close to relief. He has saved everyone. But at what cost? He thinks he has failed to save himself.

Funny. Because this wasn’t supposed to be this complicated. You were supposed to fuck and get done. You were supposed to be his stress reliver. And you were. You still are. Just not sexually wise though. This feeling he’s getting. The feeling of being trapped and not being able to breathe, it would go away when you’re here. You’ve become his escape. His air. And he’s terrified of losing it. Losing you. He genuinely doesn’t know what he should tell you. Doesn’t know how to explain. He feels ashamed to tell you the truth. The last thing he wants is for you to see him as the real loser he is. It’s always easy with you, yes. You always understand, yes. But what if you run away when you see the real him. He has seen the way you look at him. That admiration and adoration. You act like Jimin is God. Has heard that in your voice. What if he lost it. He’s too greedy to do that. Yet he can still apologize. Profoundly. He would kneel in front of you if that’s what it takes. For every fucking pain he caused.

Because you were in pain. He saw that in your eyes when your eyes met before you disappeared behind a door that day. You were broken. Because of him. Up until that moment, Jimin was feeling numb with all the emotions. Then as his eyes connected with you, it all had come crashing down to him. Everything. He can’t even remember when or who had dragged Liya away from him. All he could think about was the way he had let you go. How he had fucked up. How he shouldn’t have done that. How he shouldn’t have left you alone. Shouldn’t have let you go. All he could think about was making it right again. He had wanted to follow you. Run after you. Yank you away from Jungkook into his chest. Kiss every inch of your face and apologize over and over again. Until he’d lost his voice doing so. He was really at a breadth of a hair apart from risking everything when he had taken a step forward. Just to be pushed back by pair of hands. Jimin had felt furious to see Jin stopping him. He would’ve never listened to his older friend but then Taehyung had stepped forward too. Had stopped Jimin. And Jimin had witnessed that rare occasions where his best friend was mad. They had muttered a single line repeatedly.

“Not now Jimin-ah. You fucking can’t. Not now.”

That’s how Jimin had lost. Lost himself and you. Now all he want is to apologize. But you’re not replying. Maybe he should call you. If you don’t answer, he would definitely drive to Kim’s to meet you whether you like it or not. He unlocks his phone. Determined just to do that when his office doors are barged open. Jimin snaps his head toward it immediately. Face lightening up with hope. Only for it to fall when his eyes land on Taehyung.

“Oh, wow, you look really happy to see me.” Taehyung chuckles.

“Not in a mood Tae.” Jimin rolls his eyes before going back to unlocking his phone.

“Yeah? Then should I leave?” Taehyung asks in a mischievous enough voice that Jimin can’t help but eye him suspiciously. Taehyung smirks. “I’m just here to let you know that Li is here. I just met her.” And just like that Jimin is back to beaming with expectation. “Yeah?” Mumbles more to himself as he already walks toward the door without even knowing where he’s going. Taehyung stops him, however. “Yeah. And she’s about to resign.” Jimin halts mid-step. Just as he’s passing Taehyung. Making them stand shoulder to shoulder with his best friend. Facing two opposite directions.

“What?” Jimin whispers. The excitement he felt vanishes into thin air. He turns his head slightly to peer at Taehyung’s amber eyes. Taehyung just shrugs. “I asked her not do so but we both know that she has no other options in the end.” Jimin frowns at that.

“What do you mean, she has no the other options? Nothing happened─”

“Nothing happened?” Taehyung exclaims aloud. “Dude, she got slapped in front of hundreds of people. And you’re saying nothing happened?”

“That’s not what I meant. We got rid of everything before it can affect anyone. Affect her. Nobody in this building knows what happened. Even if they do, they don’t know it was Lil. She doesn’t have to resign because of that.” Jimin argues. Feeling lost. Looking his worst fears coming true. You’re about to go away again.

“Oh, c’mon Jimin. Even I- who sees no logic in anything- can see where she’s coming from. How can she work under us after that happened. After she got exposed like that. How could she face Liya again. Act like nothing happened. I would do the same if I was her.”  Taehyung shrugs yet again.

“Well, then maybe I can explain to her and make her see it. She doesn’t have to lose a good job because of me.” Jimin blinks at his best friend’s face. “I- uh- I’ll just talk to her. Where is she now?” He knows what Taehyung said was true. It’s annoying when his unserious best friend makes sense.

“At Hoseok’s, of course.” Taehyung’s eyes aren’t wavering. There’s an amusing sparkle in them. Makes Jimin uncomfortable. It’s like there’s something that Taehyung doesn’t tell him. Jimin wants to question it, but he needs to find you first. Jimin almost steps forward at Taehyung’s answer. Only to get interrupted when Taehyung speaks again. “What’s happening Jimin?” He turns around to face Jimin fully. Jimin just furrows his brows in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you so worried about her leaving?”

“Because it’s not fair.”

Taehyung scoffs at that. “Not fair? Jimin, what’s not fair is her being here, being judged by people and getting slapped for the mistakes you both made. What’s not fair is she has no options. What are you even planning to do? Ask her to stay? Saying what? That you really can’t live without her pussy. That’s not what’s fair, Jimin. You gonna keep her here because you don’t want to lose the sex and she’d be the one to go through hell. That’s not what’s fucking fair.”

“Tha-that’s not.” Jimin is too stunned to speak at his best friend’s sudden outburst. Taehyung never does this.

“I mean, I’m not someone to judge people because I’m in no place to do so but Li, she looked like shit and I’m feeling really sorry towards her. Her father doesn’t like her. Her sister already hates her and now she might want to kill her. She lives with a stranger and she’s sick. Hoseok told me. And you gonna go after her and demand her to stay because she’s a good lay?”

“She’s not just a good lay.” Jimin steps forward. Clenching his teeth. He doesn’t like hearing someone talk about you that way. He doesn’t even know why. And he completely ignores Taehyung’s reasonings. Only if Taehyung knew.

“Then what? You love her?”

Like that Jimin freezes completely. Gaping at Taehyung. Opens his mouth just to close it back. No answer coming to his mouth. Resembles a fish. Chuckles. Breathless. Why is he so shocked? All he has to do is deny. Because that’s not the case after all. “No- Tae, of course not─” This is ridiculous. He sure doesn’t love you. Just cares about you beyond sex, that’s it. “I- I just care about her. Like- ugh- I don’t know man. It’s just that she’s a good person and I like her company. She’s not just a good lay. I feel free when I’m with her and- and she makes me do stupid reckless things I shouldn’t do, and I like that too. A little too much. I- I don’t know what I want exactly but I don’t want to cause any harm to her. I don’t want to lose her either.” Jimin doesn’t even realize that he’s rambling until Taehyung laughs. Shakes his head.

“Well, I don’t know what’s that makes of this situation. I obviously don’t know if that feeling is love Jimin because I haven’t been in love once in my life. But you have. So, I would take your word for it.” Steps toward Jimin. Pats his shoulder. Jimin feels weird. He’s been in love. Of course, he has. Right? He loved Liya once. This isn’t love because this isn’t how he felt. He’s safe. “And that’s good that you don’t like her in that kind of way. Because that’d just make everything complicated.” Sighs. Oh, Jimin hates when Taehyung is in a mood. Doesn’t suit him. “Still, though, it’s not fair that you’d just go after her and ask her to stay. If you really care, you should keep her far away from her sister. She doesn’t deserve that shit.”

Jimin no longer feels weird. He feels heavy. As if his heart is supporting fifty pounds. He knows it’s not fair. He knows the best thing is to let you go. But he can’t. No. God, he can’t. It hurts to even imagine that. “I- I don’t want to. I- Taehyung, you’ve not been listening to me. She makes me feel alive. I just don’t want to lose that.”

“Well, that’s so fucking selfish.”

“I know. I know I’m fucking selfish. Just can’t help it.”

“Then at least you need to give her a better explanation. You need to tell her why you’d have to keep her a fucking secret. I’m not talking about love or dating. You could’ve fucked her, or do any other shit with her freely, if it wasn’t for Liya. Then it’d not be an unfair situation to either of you. At least tell her why you can’t even give her that. This is fucking ridiculous. I don’t even know what you’re planning to do Jimin? What’s your fucking plan.” Taehyungs hand on Jimin’s shoulder tightens.

“I just need time. That’s all I want. I can make it right.” Jimin resigns. And Taehyungs features softens immediately as well. He steps back. Jimin may not know what he wants from you precisely. But he knows he need to put things on track. With his business and relationship. He can’t forever be an asset. He’s done being in debt. But this is not a game where he can press a button to change things. He needs time. That was exactly what he planned to do when he met you the other day. Baring gifts. It’s unfortunate how it has come to this. Still, though, he thinks he can try. And he needs you. Selfish? Hell, yes. Yet, he wants you.

Taehyung groans. “Oh, you selfish asshole.” Grumbles. “What can I do though. You’re my best fucking friend and you’ve done far worst shit for me. So, maybe let’s just see how we are going to fuck things up. We built things together so, it’s only fair if we fucked up things together too.” Throws his head up. Shoves his hands in his pockets. “Let’s be the partners in crime then. Like old times.” Looks back at Jimin expectantly. Jimin says nothing. Just a smile graces his lips. Taehyung always has been his partner in crime and Jimin is always grateful for him. “Then maybe you should go and do whatever you wish to do. I mean she’d obviously come visit you, but this would at least save Hobi the trouble.” Taehyung gestures at the door. Jimin gives him a nod. Yes, he’s going to do whatever he has to do. Taehyung nods in reply as well. “I really suck at this advising thing.” Mumbles as Jimin turns around.

……………………………………….

Jimin nearly makes it halfway toward Hoseok’s office when a sudden voice echoes behind him. A voice that is too familiar to him. A voice that he doesn’t want to hear right now. No. Not now. Yet it seems he has no other options as he hears the clanking sound of Liya’s heels against the marble floor. A sudden flash of irritation shoots across Jimin’s entire body. Liya has no business here. It’s so wrong for him to even get irritated. Yet it appears that he doesn’t care in the end. Jimin slowly turns around to face the approaching woman. A very fake smile is pasted on her face. Jimin doesn’t bother to reciprocate it. Liya doesn’t wish to see Jimin as much as he does. He knows it.

“What are you doing here?” Jimin asks straight away without any pleasantries. There’s no need to do that. Liya, however, just throws her hands around his neck. Catching him in surprise before pulling away. It’s a brief contact. But is enough to weird Jimin out.

“What? I can’t come visit my boyfriend?” Liya pouts. She never pouts. Not in this way, at least. Doesn’t suit her just like how it doesn’t suit Taehyung to be mad.

“Oh c’mon, Liya, cut the bullshit please. We definitely aren’t on terms as to where you’d visit me just to see me and hug me. Don’t act like nothing happened. It’s not okay.” Jimin frowns. For a moment, it looks like Liya is about to keep her pretense on. After a brief second, her face falls.

“Yeah, okay. Nothing’s fine. Of course, it isn’t. I mean you fucking cheated on me. How’s that fine?” Liya scoffs. Jimin winces at her voice. He might be as much of a jerk as Taehyung now, but that doesn’t mean he has no conscience. He feels guilty. He does. Simply wishes he could be a better man. To her. To you. And to himself. Too late now, however. “But that’s exactly why I’m here Jimin. We need to talk. Sit down and talk this out like adults.” Liya exhales loudly. Jimin bores into her eyes. He wants to laugh. There was a time when Jimin really wanted to talk. But they were busy. Liya was busy. She believed it was a waste of time to just argue when they’d end up with no solution anyway. Talking meant fighting to her. Then Jimin made sure he was busy too. It worked well until it didn’t.

“You want to talk?” Jimin thinks it’s too late for that talk now. Just asks for the sake of it. He owes Liya an apology after all.

“Yes. You don’t?”

“What are we gonna talk about? About why you’re forgiving me? Why you’re acting like nothing happened Liya?”

“I’m not acting like nothing happened Jimin. I’m just acting matured. We’re adults. People make mistakes and I’m willing to forgive you. But in order to do that, we need to talk and figure out why it happened.”

Oh, how badly Jimin wants to laugh. True, that they both didn’t have enough time to even fight let alone talk. But except for the part where she attacked you, Liya is acting unnecessarily calm. Jimin doesn’t think that’s being matured. No. Liya needs to lose her shit. She needs to cry. She needs to slap him too. She needs to threaten him with a breakup. She has the upper hand here. She needs to threaten him with her father. His business. It’s awfully suspicious in Jimin’s mind that she’s acting this way.

“What?” Liya questions again in his silence. “Look baby─” Jimin visibly winces at the term of endearment. There was a time where it made his stomach flutter. Then there was a time that it made him feel indifferent. And then in this moment, it makes him feel uneasy. Liya just continues, however. Completely ignoring the visible change in his features. See, odd. Very. “─I know there must be a reason for why it happens. I’m at fault too. I mean, we forgot to make it work. So, let’s consider this as a test. A test that check how well we can work this out. Let’s consider this as a reminder that our relationship needs some work. We can work it back Jimin.” Steps forward. Places a gentle hand on his upper arm. Jimin’s eyes fall to where she’s touching him for a second before he looks back at her face again. “It’s not late. We still have time. I really do love you that I can forgive you.” Smiles softly.

Liya doesn’t forgive. Just like his friends said, she’s a snake and she bites. In revenge. That’s who she is. This is really strange. And Jimin doesn’t think she loves him. No. Not anymore. This is a relationship in convenience. Still, he peers at her eyes. He loved those eyes once. He really did.

Is it really not too late?

Does he still love those eyes?

Does he─

The sudden sound of footsteps make Jimin’s eyes snap away from Liya. It’s completely unintentional how his eyes trail past her. Stopping on a new figure who rounded the corner just now. The intruder stops. Dead on the track. Big wide eyes are fixed on him.

You stand still, while your eyes are locked with him. The wind gets knocked out of Jimin’s lungs.

Oh, it’s late. Too fucking late.

Jimin feels a warmth engulf him fully. Then an ache surges through him. A longing. His heart clenches.

He doesn’t love those eyes, anymore.

Or he does. But those eyes, doesn’t belong to the same person anymore. He doesn't know what’s happening to him. Only thing he knows is the bittersweet feeling he is getting. All he knows is that he can’t wait another second. He doesn’t realize how much he wanted to see you until now. Until you’re in front of him. Finally. All he knows is that he’s not going to waste it this time.

It feels like a dream to Jimin when he steps to his side. When he starts walking past Liya. Maybe she calls to him but that falls into deaf ears.

You’re here and he needs to pull you into his arms immediately.

You stay still there. Eyes still wide. But this time you wander those eyes away from him. You look past him. Then back to him. He knows you’re looking at Liya. He has no idea what’s going on in your head but nothing’s going to happen again. No one’s going to lay a finger on you. Except him. He stops before you. Takes a good look at your pretty face. You look tired. Eyes puffy. Breaks his heart into tiny pieces. Makes him want to take all the pain away from you.

It’s going to be okay.

Stretches his arms to grab you. To pull you into his embrace.

You recoil like spring. And all his senses comes back to him. Like you’ve slapped him. Makes Jimin’s eyes go wide for a moment before he frowns in confusion. A deep ache tugs at his heart. A moment passes in silence before you suddenly speak.

“I am resigning Mr. Park. Thank you for allowing me to work here. It’s been a pleasure.” You bow deep to him.

Mr. Park?

You can’t be already resigned. Even if you have, that’s okay. He can make sure you’ve got any job inside this building. He doesn't give a single fuck about what people say. He must be losing his mind. “Lil? What are you─”

“I have already resigned. I came to say thank you. So, thank you Mr. Park.” You mumble once again with a bow. And before he can say or do anything you turn around. Start walking away.

No. No. No.

Jimin watches in horror as you walk away for a minute. Just like the day in club. His poor brain is taking its sweet time processing things. And he does exactly feel the way he did that day. Watching you walk away.

No. Not this time.

He’s not an idiot to make the same mistake twice. Jimin practically breaks into a run at the same time you disappear through the corner. It doesn’t take him more than a second to reach you. To grab your arm. Yanks you back and turns around to face him. You scowl at him. Your eyes look furious.

“You’re not walking away. We need to talk.” Jimin’s voice sounds foreign even to him. It’s barely audible through the roar in his ear. Over his own heartbeat.

“Talk what Jimin.” You hiss. A panicked expression crosses through your face as you quickly glance behind him. “Let me go please.”

“No. Not until we talk.”

“You can’t do this for fucks sake. There are people here and─”

“And what? I don’t care. I want to apologize for─”

“Keep your damn apologies to yourself Park. I don’t fucking care.” You try your best to step away from him. Jimin feels like he’s travelled through time. There was a time where you and he used to fight like angry cats. Just the same way. He’d try to stop you while you’re trying to get away. But you passed those days, right? He really hates to go through that again. “I don’t want to be your little secret anymore. You need to let me go.” Your words cut through him painfully. So damn painful that it almost annoys him.

“Well, you agreed to be that Lil. I already told you that you’re going to be stuck with me if you ever agreed to be mine. You can’t just walk away.” Jimin tightens his grip so that you wouldn’t be able run away.

“I did. But that’s way before we got─” You clench your teeth. Lower your voice to low hiss. “─caught. Before I saw how your girlfriend loves you. Before I realized I’m the only one who’s going to get the blame in the end. Get humiliated. I don’t want that again Jimin. I deserve fucking better than that. I deserve better than standing alone in a corridor and getting slapped. I know you did the right thing. And there’s no hard feelings. I don’t hate you or anything like that. I just want to end this shit. I’m tired.” You blabber in one breath. Heave for air once you’re done. Everything you say makes sense to Jimin. But at the same time, it doesn’t. All he needs is one chance to apologize.

“Lil...” Your name leaves Jimin’s lips in a desperate sigh. “I- I know. I- I just, let’s please─”

“I’m leaving.” You state sternly. Oh, it hurts. You don’t even want to listen to him. It hurts like a bitch as Jimin allows his hand to fall limp. He wishes to say something more. Beg more. He’s ready to kneel right now and right here. But before he could, you turn around. Before he could, he feels Liya’s presence next to him. Before he could, you storm away. Not a single glance. Not a single word. Just like that, you run away. You don’t want to be his dirty little secret anymore. And he needs to respect that. You don’t want to do anything with him anymore. He needs to respect that decision. You deserve way better. Of course, you do. Then why can’t he make up his mind to do that.

No.

It hurts.

No, he won’t just let you go.

Not this time. He’s going to go through whatever it takes. He’s going to make you stay.

…………………………..

Jungkook tries to stuff his face while ignoring the heated glare his best friend is throwing at him. Fails. No one can ignore J. Especially Jungkook. J raps his knuckles on the table. Starts speaking even though Jungkook doesn’t look at her. “Why weren’t you in the class today?” She interrogates, irritated. Jungkook refuses to look at her still.

“Because I didn’t feel like it. It��s boring.” Answers through a mouthful.

“Bullshit!” J yells. Makes Jungkook glance at her. But it’s Namjoon who calls her out. “Oh, c’mon. How old are you? You can’t handle being alone in a one class.” He peeks through his laptop. Rolls his eyes before looking pointedly at Jungkook. “I mean it’s not okay you’re skipping classes but still…” Gives J an odd look.

“Yes, I can’t handle it. I want my best friend for emotional support.” J crosses her arms across her chest. Pouts. Namjoon tries to argue again when J starts again. “Besides, he is fucking lying. You didn’t attend today because you didn’t want to leave Li alone.” Points out. Oh, how Jungkook hates his best friend’s observation skills. It’s almost annoying how much she knows about him. He tries to deny the accusation when J points a finger at him. “Don’t. Even. Try. To deny you little shit. I know you. You’re so fucking fixated on her. I mean like first you lied to all of us and then—”

“I didn’t lie to anyone.” Jungkook gives up on trying to eat.

“Well, yeah but you didn’t tell us anything either and you helped her?” J’s face turns into a furious expression. “You knew she was cheating, and you fucking helped her Jeon?”

“I did not fucking help her J. I just didn’t uh-do anything about it because it’s not my place.”

“Silence makes you an accomplice.” Namjoon chimes in again. It’s Jungkook’s time to glare at him. “What? Just saying.” He mumbles before going back to typing furiously on his keypad.

“Exactly!” J chimes. Jungkook groans. Rubs a hand over his face. “So, what do you suggest I should’ve done? Tie her up to fucking chair and keep her inside the apartment? Bribe her with candy? Take her to a church and teach her about the hell?” Throws his hands in the air. Luckily, it seems that it works. J sighs.

“Okay, let’s put that aside. But you still kept it a secret from us.” Nudges Namjoon for assistance, which she doesn’t receive.

“I couldn’t just do that. She is my friend.”

“Oh? Now you’re replacing me? You found a new friend?” J opens her mouth in disbelief. “Us” Namjoon butts in again. Without taking his eyes away from the screen.

“C’mon, Joonie, you’re not fucking helping here. And are you fucking crazy? What are you even talking about J? I said, ‘a friend’. Not damn best friend. It’s you who’s replacing me. You’re the one who don’t even reply to my texts anymore. You’re the one who’s following Jin around like a lost puppy.” It’s not that Jungkook is really mad. He just wants to take the winning hand. “It’s always, Jin that, Jin this.” He mimics her voice. J gasps.

“This is so damn childish. I don’t even know why I’m friend with kids.” Namjoon glanced between his two younger, very immature friends. J slams her palm on the table.

“That’s not the same thing. It’s entirely different. Jin is not a friend. I like him.”

“That’s exactly─ wait, what?” Jungkook’s eyes go instantly wide. “Come again.” Even Namjoon closes his laptop down. Fast. Paying full attention to the conversation for the first time.

“What?” J looks between them confusedly. “I like Jin. Why are you so surprised? Like isn’t it obvious?”

“Hold on, rewind please.” Namjoon turns to face J fully. “I mean yeah, it was obvious, but did you just admit it like that?” Questions.

“Are you dating?” Jungkook adds. Turning the restaurant into a temporary interrogation room in second.

“Does Jin know you like him?”

“Does he like you too?”

“Has he asked you out?”

“You know that we’d break his bones if he tried anything funny─”

“Okay, that’s it.” J bangs the table with both of her palms this time. “What the fuck is wrong with you two?” Glares at Jungkook and Namjoon as they both shrug.

“Nothing, just two concerned friends.” Namjoon answers on their behalf. Jungkook just nods, feeling grateful for the distraction of the topic. “I mean, J, our sassy ass friend, is admitting she likes a guy for the first time. Isn’t that concerning.” Namjoon further points out while Jungkook just keep nodding in agreement. J rolls her eyes.

“That’s not true. I’ve liked someone once before.” Argues. “Exactly! Look where it got you.” Namjoon exclaims. And Jungkook agrees. “He broke your heart even before you properly even started liking him. So, of course, we’re very concerned right here J,J. You don’t even know Jin properly and you admit you like him.” Namjoon levels J with a pointed look.

“Oh, I know him enough to like him. I mean what’s there not to like about Kim Seokjin.” J huffs. Starts putting her fingers down in count. “He’s so damn fucking handsome. He’s good. Kind. Funny. And of course, is rich. Is a good kisser. You might not want to know this, but he has an impressive dick─” Both Namjoon and Jungkook gags at the same time, but J pays them little to no attention. “─ and knows how to use it. Knows how to use his tongue and lips too─”

“That’s enough. I might have to bleach my ears now.” Namjoon grimaces. “And he’s too old for you.” Adds. J opens her mouth to retort when Jungkook fails to keep his mouth shut. “Yes, and he isn’t funny. He makes weird ass jokes and laughs like a squeaky windshield wiper.” He blurts out before he can process it. Is a very wrong move apparently. J’s eyes snap to him immediately. Burning with fire.

“He. Is. Not. Jeon. He’s funny and good. You two has nothing to worry about. If anything, who we should be worried about is you.” Shoots Jungkook a tight-lipped smile. “Because, just like me, Joen Jungkook, you’re always talking about Li. Noona this, Noona that. Just like me, you’re always following her around like a lost puppy. You even ditched your best friend today to be there for her. Then that’s very concerning unless you… like… her.” Ends her rambling with wide eyes. Dragging the last three words unnecessarily. As if it just makes sense to herself as well. “Holy shit, do you like Li, man?” Questions.

“What?” Jungkook chuckles nervously. Is ready to deny but something twists inside him. Why would he even deny it anymore? So, just closes his mouth back. Namjoon’s jaw drops to the floor.

“You too? What the fuck is happening?” Mutters.

“This is not good.” J mutters as well, glancing at Namjoon and sharing a knowing look. Makes Jungkook irritated. “What’s not good? What’s the problem here?” He scowls at his two friends.

“Dude, she has been having a secret relationship with a practically married man.” J’s expression turns into a genuinely concerned one. Jungkook doesn’t like it a little bit.

“No. That wasn’t technically a relationship. She was just having sex with a man, and she knew it was wrong and was feeling fucking guilty. And now she is about to make things right.” That’s what you told him and Jungkook couldn’t be happier. Not just because it’s the best for you. But because it leaves you all to him. Selfish, yes. But still, he’s buzzing with excitement.

“But what if it wasn’t just sex and she likes Jimin?” Namjoon shares J’s concerned look now. Jungkook doesn’t know how to answer that. What would he do if that’s the case. Hell, even the thought makes his heart clench in a painful way.

“And what if she breaks your heart?” J asks again. For that, he has an answer now. “I’m okay with that. She’s worth it.” So, Jungkook mumbles slowly when both of his friends sigh heavily. Jungkook doesn’t look at them. Feels weird. Painful. But he means his every word. And maybe he won’t care if you like Jimin either. He’d still fight and still like you until he’s tired and can’t do it anymore. He has no idea since when he started to feel this strongly toward you. Maybe it was from the first day he saw you. There’s a reason why he didn’t realize J- his best damn friend is falling for someone. A reason for that to slip from his sharp, observant eyes. That’s because he was so immersed in you. Even when he thought you were Liya. He was enamored by you. All he saw was you. Funny. But that’s how it is.

“This is absolutely not good.” Namjoon leans back in his chair. J mirrors his actions. “Not good at all.” Agrees with Namjoon.

“Oh, c’mon…. There’s nothing to be so dramatic about.” Jungkook shrugs them off. Gets to his feet. “This shit is cold now, thanks to you two idiots.” Gathers his food in his hands. Feels a bit heavy but guess it would pass away. Almost turns around to leave when J stops him.

“You know, I really don’t like her. What she did was such a bitchy thing. Especially as a woman, I want to slap her too. But, if she’s trying to do the right thing, and she’s feeling guilty… I hope I can find a way to forgive her.” Turns her head to look at Jungkook. “Besides, I’m team Kook always. I mean Jimin is a douchebag, and he deserves four slaps, but nobody delivered that. Such a shame. So, I’m gonna help my best friend to win the woman. If you need help killing Park Jimin, let me know buddy. You know I love you.” Nods very seriously that Jungkook snorts.

“Me too. I mean, not the killing part. Murder is illegal.” Namjoon sits back straight. Jungkook and J give him an annoyed look. “What? Just saying.”

“Oh, we didn’t know.” J bellows sarcastically as Jungkook finally steps away.

………………………………..

“Let’s go out please.” Jungkook whines as you ignore him completely. You don’t want to do anything except rot here. Sitting in Kim’s kitchen and sipping free beer and eating unhealthy amounts of chips. “C’mon, Noona.” Jungkook rests his head on your shoulder.

“I’m not in a mood Kookie. You guys should go.” You expectantly glance over at Jungkook’s friends. J and Namjoon. Yoona would be here any minute as well. You were surprised to see J and Namjoon treating you indifferently. You expected them to hate you. Maybe everyone’s favorite color in this world is morally gray. No one knows how to filter good from bad. Not that you’re complaining, though. You don’t want to lose any more friends in addition to Park Jimin. The very reason why you’re not in a mood to go out. Or to do anything else either.

It had hurt deeply. The moment you spat those words at him. The look in his eyes. It all had hurt. You had really wanted a heartfelt goodbye. Yes, you did. You wanted to clear the air and part ways on good terms. Because despite everything, you don’t hate Park Jimin. No. Absolutely not. In short, it’s quite the opposite. You still adore him. But when your eyes landed on Jimin and Liya together in the hallway something had spewed inside you. Something uncomfortable and painful. You hadn’t planned to walk away from Jimin that way. Now, though, it feels like the best option you had. Even though it pains you.

“What’s fun in that?” J chews on her bubblegum with extra force. Her look is pointed and sharp. Maybe they are not being indifferent. Maybe they are watching you closely until they find a moment to kill you.

“Right?” Jungkook raises his head immediately. “That’s no fun. We need you.”

“You need her. I’m completely fine.” Namjoon chimes in. J nudges him with her elbow. “Don’t be rude, Joonie.”

“I’m not being rude. I’m just─”

“Saying. Yes, we know.” Jungkook completes Namjoon’s sentence. Turns his attention back to you. “Please, Noona. I’ll buy you the biggest ice cream tub I can find. Or- or- loads of chocolates─”

“Jungkook…” You sigh, turning your head to peer at his doe eyes. “I’m really not in the mood to go out. Let’s just stay this way for tonight. I promise you I’ll go out with you every day if you let me stay in tonight.” Jungkook audibly and adorably whines. Says something else about how cruel this world is when all of your attention drifted away from him to the sound of restaurant door opening in distance.

“That must be Yoona.” Namjoon forms a dimpled smile. Visibly excited. You find it disgustingly sweet. Cute. Only if you could have that one day. An involuntary smile graces your lips at the sight. You all look expectantly at the swing door. Hoping Yoona will appear now. But then you hear voices before the door opens. Multiple voices.

“I swear to god Hobi…”

That’s definitely a male voice, and you heard the name Hobi for sure. You look at Jungkook confusedly when the door finally slams open.

“What’s up, motherfuckers!” Taehyung yells through the top of his lungs the moment he appears on the doorway. Very businessman- unlike. “We party hard tonight.” Adds a loud yoo-hoo at the end. Walks inside when Hoseok appears next.

“I swear, Joon, I have nothing to do with this.”

“Oh, yeah? You were the one who called me and said Namjoon is giving away free beer─” Yoongi straightly walks toward the fridge when Hoseok runs after him. Pressing his hand over Yoongi’s mouth. Yoongi’s muffled voice comes behind Hoseok’s palms. “Nothing. He means, I called him and said nothing about Namjoon. Yeah.” Hoseok chuckled nervously. Namjoon gapes at the duo. Confused. Your attention alters from the chaos to J when she squeals in happiness when Jin walks in.  

“Oh, God, you should’ve told me. I would’ve dressed nicely then.” She whines as Yoona shoves both Jin and J away so she can enter the kitchen. You’re positive that Jin said something horribly cheesy but cute to J, just as Namjoon engulfs his woman in a warm hug too. See, adorable. Nice. Even, you forget your miserable life problems. Or you almost did. Only for a fractured second when another figure enters. Stands in the doorway. It takes your barely functioning brain a second to register who he is.

Park Jimin!

Wait, what?

Your eyes widen.

What the hell is he doing here?

Your stomach drops. A strange sensation washing over you. Your breath hitches as Jimin looks directly at you. Eyes burning into yours. Not even wavering. As if he came here just to do that. Find you. Stare into your eyes. And you find it’s impossible to tear your gaze away. Too stunned and surprised to do that.

Jimin can’t be here.

Your trance breaks when you feel a sudden movement next to you. You catch from the corner of your eyes as Jungkook jumps into his feet before you snap your head toward him. Startled this time.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jungkook’s voice comes out as a growl. You watch with wide eyes at the sharp line of his jaw and how tightly he’s clenching his teeth. His question is clearly directed at Jimin. Jimin doesn’t even try to answer, however. Or he just doesn’t get a chance to do that when Jungkook is already walking past you. Rounding the table to reach Jimin. Looks like he would straightly land a punch on the other guy’s face. You stumble to your feet in panic when Taehyung beats you to it. His arm wraps around Jungkook’s chest.

“Woah, woah, easy big boy. Don’t do that now. We are friends and I wanted to get a drink because the last time we left things ugly. Don’t start it again.” He pacify Jungkook in an uneasily calmed voice. Jungkook, on the other hand, looks feral. His eyes snap to Taehyung.

“Friends?” Questions while trying to shrug Taehyung’s arm off.

“Don’t do that please Jungkook. No need to fight here. We’re all cool. And yes, we are friends dude. You declared- not even confessed but declared- your love to me back at the cottage. Is this your way of breaking up with me?” Taehyung widens his eyes first then scrunches up his face in feigned pain. In a different context, you know, Jungkook would’ve played along with Taehyung. They’d even start to cry. This moment, though, Jungkook’s mood isn’t lifting an inch despite hundreds of jokes everyone would say to him. You almost become convinced that Jungkook won’t give up at all when Namjoon walks over to him.

“Hey, it’s fine Kook. You can’t avoid them forever. Hobi is my friend and now everyone is everyone’s friends, and you know…” Namjoon looks Jungkook in the eye. You guess you saw him gesturing at J with his eyes. Just for a moment. Then after a long minute, Jungkook sighs. Takes a step back and walks to you again. An arm sneaking around your shoulders protectively.

And you quite certainly witness the way Jimin’s jaw tightens. And that familiar fire breaks inside his eyes.

…………………………………

Night settles into a fairly normal one if not fun. All seated around the kitchen table. Conversation and beer flowing around. Paired with occasional laughter or shouting. Other than that, night feels dull. Despite the best effort Taehyung put out with the help of Hoseok. For the most part, part of the table is keeping quiet. That part includes you, Jungkook, and undoubtedly Jimin. He’s been staring at you for the past hour or so. You’ve been avoiding his eyes. You feel tense. Hard to breathe. Want nothing but to be alone. Your idiotic friends don’t allow you, however. You wish this night would end soon.

“Right Li? That’d be fun, right?” Taehyung asks you again. He’s been asking you so many questions. Is sitting next to Jimin. Almost makes you suspicious that he’s trying to make you talk with Jimin.

“Huh?” You quip distractedly. Having no idea what he’s talking about.

“A summer camp? Right Jimin? You want Li to come, right?” Asks from Jimin. Jimin’s eyes glint as he searches for something in your eyes. Oh, God it hurts be in his presence. Hurt to look at his eyes. Hurt to see that glint. You need to leave.

“Hell, yeah. You can come up with good ideas once in a while Tae, Tae. I’m impressed.” J perks up before you can say anything else. And you’re glad. Jungkook scoffs from next to you. Earning himself a glare from J as Taehyung’s face falls. As if he doesn’t want anyone else answering him other than you.

“Of course, I’m smart J,J. It’s not my fault it took you so long to realize that. Ask Jin Hyung, I’m the master mind behind everything.” Answers, nonetheless. Face proud and smug. Jin snorts so loud that it startles J slightly.

“Oh, yes. He is. Someone pass me another beer please.” Jin taps Namjoon’s arm. Everyone burst into laughter. Even the silent party makes soft sounds of chuckles. Taehyung gasps. Offended. No one pays him any attention.

“No, but seriously. That’s such a good idea. It’s going to be fun. I know a place we can go near this river. What do you guys say?” J practically vibrates in her chair. You wish you could share the enthusiasm.

“It’s a stupid idea. We can use our time for something better.” Jungkook states. He looks fine now. Not clenching his jaw so tight nor scowling deep like an owl. J shoots another glare at him. “Yeah, like what?” Raises her brow.

“I don’t know. Something that─”

“Oh, c’mon, you little shit, you love camping.” J throws a napkin at Jungkook. “What’s up with you? Killing the mood like a grumpy grandad.” Complaints. Jungkook tries to retort but a second voice booms across before he could.

“Or you can simply choose not to come. No one’s forcing you, you know Jungkook. You can stay and use your precious time to do anything you want.” Jimin’s eyes are boring holes in Jungkook’s skull. So, are Jungkook’s. You feel mixture of emotions engulf you. Irritation. Annoyance. Anger. Pain. Longing. And much more.

“What did you say?” Jungkook questions in a stony voice. Calmed but anyone can notice the underlying storm.

“Okay.” Taehyung palms his face. Takes a moment then pulls a bright but very forced smile. “What he’s saying is anyone can do anything. You know, this is a free country.” Shrugs. Yet, Jimin and Jungkook keeps glaring at each other. Oh, fuck. In addition to being painful, this shit is exhausting as well. You sigh deeply. Uncomfortable silence falls over the table. Until Yoongi breaks it. With something completely unrelated but the way everyone relaxes tell you how glad they are.

“We don’t have any more beer?” Yoongi shakes an empty beer can. “Are you sure?” Looks at Namjoon. Namjoon gives him a strange look. Almost like he’s ready to slap Yoongi.

“Yes. I am sure. You don’t get beer that you won’t pay for.”  Namjoon looks at everyone.

“So, you do have more. Where? Where are you hiding my precious alcohol?” Yoongi gets to his feet. Just to be yanked back into his chair by an extremely aggravated Namjoon. “Nope. No. You’re not making my parents’ business go bankrupt. No. More. Free. Beer.” He holds Yoongi onto his chair by his shoulders. Hoseok is the one who whines in complaint.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t be a cheap─”

“Shut the fuck up, Hobi or I’ll shove a beer can down your throat.” Namjoon shouts as Hoseok instantly shuts his mouth.

“Your boyfriend is so violent Yoona. You need to do something about it.” Yoongi shrugs Namjoon’s hands off his shoulders. Yoona just rolls her eyes.

“Uh-huh.” Just nods while keeping her eye on her phone. She had said something about having to keep a close eye on some art piece earlier. You think it’s cool she works as an art broker. Namjoon says something else to Yoongi when the sudden sound of restaurant door chime erupts for a second time. Entire place falls into a curious silence.

“Is Seoyeon or Liya joining us?” Someone questions. And you catch a faint glimpse of Taehyung and Jimin shaking their heads at the same time. Then the silence abruptly gets broken by a loud gasp Namjoon lets out.

“Holy fuck, if that’s my mom and if she finds out you little pricks have been emptying her fridge, oh, she’s gonna have a heart attack and─”

“I’ll go talk to her. I mean I’ll distract her and tell her everything’s fine. I’ll ask her to go back.” You ramble before you can stop yourself. Get to your feet even faster. All you want is an opportunity to leave. Even for a moment. It’s too tiring for you. So, you are going to use this as a perfect chance to distract yourself. Leave this torturing place. Namjoon blinks at your face. Surprised. You offer him a tight-lipped smile as you walk around the table. Jungkook protests when you glare at him. You’re not a kid and all you want is a moment to be alone. Away from everyone. Away from Jimin. From his beautiful eyes.

“Don’t worry, she likes me.” You pat Namjoon’s shoulder as you exit the kitchen. Feeling relieved the moment the swing door closes behind you.

……………………………

It turns out it’s not Mrs. Kim. It’s just the newly hired boy who has left his headphones at the restaurant by accident. He has come back to take them. And you just allow him. You’re supposed to go back inside the kitchen the moment the boy vanishes again. You don’t, however. You had hoped it would really be Namjoon’s mom, and you’d get a chance to leave with her. It’s okay to be with her since she knows nothing about your miserable life or situation. Now, though, when you don’t have such a chance, you at least need a moment to catch your breath.

So, you sink into a chair at the empty restaurant. Sighing heavily. Not so faint chitter chatter and laughter of your friends drifting into the area. It’s not quiet. Yet is still better than the stuffed kitchen. It’s good to be alone. Liberating. You feel like you can breathe, finally. You place your arms on the table. Prop your head on your palms. Letting the cool air inside the building soothe your aching heart. It doesn't work. But you’ll keep trying. And you’ll stay here one more minute. Just one more.

“Lil?”

You nearly fall down from the chair at the unexpected voice. You haven’t even sensed a new presence, let alone the sound of footsteps or the door opening. You whip your head in the direction where the voice came. Just to find Jimin standing there. You suck in a sharp breath, stumbling into your feet.

No.

Hell, no!

You ran away earlier because you wanted to avoid him. This isn’t that. And maybe you should take this chance. To say the goodbye that you oh so badly wanted. To leave- whatever fucked up ship- you had on a good note. Just like you wanted. But after all, you don’t think it’d be easy. True it had hurt more since you had nearly yelled at Jimin before you left. But how can you be sure it’d hurt less if you do it in a civil manner. Besides what are you going to say. Everything you said before but in a calmer tone. No. That won’t hurt any less. It’d still hurt like a bitch and Jimin would still look at you with those eyes. Pain slashing across them. Like you’re tearing his world apart and you in the end undoubtedly will fold. Give up. You’ll fall under his spell once again. You don’t want that. When you said to him that you deserve better, you’ve meant it. You want to be free of this situation before it inevitably get more complicated. You’ll deal with the regret and pain later. What you should do is run away. Again. Immediately.

You round the table without uttering a single word. Almost walk past him when his voice reaches you. “Lil, please.” You think he has stopped you by touching you. But no, it’s just you have stopped by yourself. Against your better judgment. Maybe it’s the desperation in his voice. He sounds pleading. Helpless. That shatters your heart irreparably. “Please. Just listen to me. That’s all I-I w- want.” His voice cracks and the pain you feel intensifies. What’s the fucking wrong with you? Why does it fucking hurt so much?

“I don’t think you have anything else to say Jimin.” You bite down on the inside of your cheeks to prevent from breaking into a cry.

“You don’t know that.” Jimin stalks toward you. You don’t bother looking at him. Not because you don’t want to. But because it’d break you.

“Oh, for fucks sake Jimin. You need to end this game. We need to end this game.” You have no idea what Jimin is doing. Why is he seeking an opportunity so desperately to talk with you. What’s he even going to tell you. Apologize? For what? This is such a fucked-up situation. You really can’t blame him when you knew what you were getting yourself into. You can’t blame him for following Liya because that’s what he should do. Then why is he going to apologize? There’s no reason.

“I am not playing games.” Jimin sounds stern now. Voice rough. An invitation for you to just turn your head a bit to look at him. You refuse to give in.

“Well, then that’s good. If you’re going to apologize, there’s no need to Jimin. You’ve done nothing wrong. We both did our fair share of misdeeds and now it needs to end. So, let’s just end this here.” You manage to croak. Throat dry suddenly. A familiar lump forming there. You don’t want to cry. You need to leave.

Now.

You turn around just after you finish your sentence. Take two more steps. That’s all you manage before you feel pair of hands circling around you. Your back suddenly collides with a hard chest. You freeze. Too stunned to move. Eyes wide. For a minute before it hits you. Jimin is hugging you tightly. His arms are like protective armors around your body. And oh, how good he feels.

No. No. No

This is what you’ve been so afraid of. Alarm rings in your head as you panic. This is how you fucked up every time. How weak can you be? You try to step away from his embrace when he tightens his grip. Even places his chin on your shoulder. You could’ve been annoyed at the action if it wasn’t for his shaking voice caressing your ear. “Oh god, baby please. Please don’t do this. I know I’m fucking wrong. I know I fucked up again. You deserve the best. You don’t deserve to go through these shits with me. But just give me one chance. Please Lil.” His lips graze over your neck as he tilts his head slightly. A shiver runs through your spine. Your guard is starting to crumble.

God, you need to end this.

“A chance for what Jimin.” You sound exasperated. Tired. Resigned. “What are we even doing? What are you going to do? Why would you want me anyway?” You fail to hold your tears. They roll down your cheeks gracefully. Soothing the sting in your eyes. It’s Jimin who freezes this time. Well, you asked valid questions.

“I-uh-I─”

“See, you don’t even have answers. What are you going to tell me? Are you going to ask me to pretend everything’s fine again? I’m done doing that shit Jimin. It isn’t worth all the risk and the shit we’re going through. Surely, you don’t want me. You can have any woman you want. You can have Liya if you want. You clearly don’t have a reason for wanting me. You don’t want me.” Tangled sobs erupt through your throat as you completely give up trying to free yourself.

“But I do want you.” Jimin mumbles. Almost like a whisper that you nearly don’t catch it. But you do. Your breath catches and heart skips a beat. What does he mean? “I want you so badly. And no, not just to fuck. I just want you.”

“But why?”

“Because you make me feel alive.” This time his voice is perfectly audible. Raised and confident. “I don’t know what I’m feeling Lil. All I know is that I don’t want to lose you. Just don’t do that. Don’t say we need to end things. Sue me for being the biggest asshole in every universe─” Jimin exhales a shaky breath. You can feel him trembling. Oh, why? Why? Why? Why’s he so affected? Why are you so affected? “─but baby please.” He places a gentle kiss on your neck. Soft and sensual. You inhale air shakily. “It’s hard without you. I-I don’t know w-why but I feel so trapped. Gosh I didn’t even know how much I was suffering until you came. You’re just like a quiet magic, and I don’t want to lose that magic.”’

Holy fuck!

What’s happening?

He feels that way too?

He feels trapped and hurt. He feels like you’re his air. Isn’t that exactly how you feel as well. What’s going on? What’s wrong with you two? Well, there were always something wrong with you both and just because you accepted that hasn’t brought you somewhere nice. Look at you. All miserable and crying. You shouldn’t give in. Is hard not to do so when Jimin’s breath is hitting your neck. Hard to do so when he lands another kiss. Then another and another. Keeps his lips on your pulse point. Making your knees weak. You still refuse to give in, however.

“Then what the fuck are we going to do? You keep want to cheat with me?” You force yourself to open your mouth. “You keep want to be the assholes? And for what? What’s going to happen when my time expires? What’s going to happen when I’m no longer here, hm? Then what Jimin?” You bite on your lower lip so hard to control your sobs. If you cry hard your friends would definitely hear you and you don’t want them to find you in this position.

“I told you. I promised you I’m going to turn the world upside down if you still decide to stay after this year. I’m going to do that Lil. I mean it.”

A strained laugh leaves past your dry lips. “As if you would let me go.” A similar sound leaves Jimin’s mouth as well.

“Yeah. I’d never let you go. I plan on making you want to stay.”

“I already want- at least I wanted to stay.”

“Don’t change your mind then. I promise we- I will find a way.”

“And keep going? Keep being your dirty little secret?”

Jimin sighs heavily. “No. I have a plan.” Mumbles. You say nothing. Are bit intrigued. “I just need time. Look, I know we’re complicated and all, but I’ll make sure you get what you deserve. I just need time.” Jimin squeezes you in his hold.

“Time to do what Jimin?” You curiously ask, trying to take a look at his face. He doesn’t allow you to turn your head. Presses his lips further into your sensitive skin.

“To sort everything out.”

To sort everything out?

That doesn’t make sense to you. “What do you mean sort everything out? A-are you planning on br-breaking up with….” You can’t bring yourself to complete the question. Words taste bitter on your tongue. Feels so wrong. A beat of silence passes.

“Yes.” Jimin finally breaks that silence. His answer is clear, but you can hear the guilt in his voice. “And that’s not because of you. No. It’s because that relationship was already over long before you. It isn’t working. I was just reluctant to see it because I was fucking worried of this perfect image. Can’t do it anymore, I need to end that stress. Like you’ve told Taehyung, if we’re not in love we shouldn’t just waste each other’s time. That’s not fair. On me or on her.”  

Oh, you didn’t think Taehyung and Jimin might be sharing that kind of information as well. It seems like they do. And what Jimin says makes sense. Perfectly. You’re really glad that you are not the reason either. It would suck so bad. Selfish, yes. But is good, nonetheless. He, however, hasn’t answered everything yet. You have questions. “Then why do you need time? Why dragging it up?” You weakly voice out your concerns. Feel how he tenses. Weird.

“Uh- it’s you know, not that easy. It’s comp─”

“Complicated. Yes, you’ve said so once and I accepted it without questioning.” A deep sigh leaves Jimin. “I know. I just need time Lil. Can you trust me? Just give me some time.” He takes a second. “Please.” Adds.

Can you just do that. Of course, you can. You believe he has good reasons. Still, though, something is gnawing at your insides. You might not know what’s his so-called complicated reasons are but the fact that he can’t trust you to tell them makes you annoyed. Like he said himself, you deserve better. If you are to put yourself in this mess back again. Until Jimin would sort things out and God knows how long that’d be, you’ll be always left in the dark. You know you’re the secret, but you deserve a little better if not the best. You bring your palms to wipe down your tears.

“Well, then we should wait until you do so Jimin.”

“What?” Jimin pulls away from you fast. Turns you around even faster. “What do you mean?” Search for answers in your eyes.

“We should just go like this until you figure things out.”

“No. Lil. You- I don’t even know how long it’d take, and I don’t think I can go that lon─”

“Then at least you should explain to me the reasons. Why does it take so much time. I need to know why I’m putting myself in such a low position. I want to know if it’s a good reason. If you don’t want to, then I’ll wait till it’s over.” You manage to say it out without wavering your voice. Stern and precise. Jimin keeps staring at your face. It’s only now you notice the redness in his eyes. Glistening. Dark circles under them. Was he crying too? Probably not. Not like you did anyway. But the signs are there.

Why?

You expect Jimin to argue. Try to persuade you. But he surprises you. “Fine. You need an explanation. I’ll give it to you. It’s nothing really, I just- I don’t know, guess I’m embarrassed.” Your heart softens immediately. You open your mouth to say that he doesn’t have to be like that when he doesn’t let you. “Not now though, I guess Jungkook would come searching for you any minute now. Taehyung had to physically restrain him from following me.” A soft laugh escapes you at the mental image that creates in your head. “So, let’s talk baby, hm?” Jimin suggests. A small smile creeping on his godly face. You take a minute. Long one. You shouldn’t do this. Not again. But this time it’s different, right? It is. You hope it is. All you do is nod your head once. That small smile on Jimin’s face cracks into a huge grin. You can’t help but reciprocate it.

“Thank you.” He mumbles. Cups your face. You wait for his lips to press against yours. It doesn’t come. Instead, he presses his lips against your forehead. A tingle runs through your entire body. Tummy fluttering. “Thank you.” Mumbles again.

And you feel all those pains vanish away.

Oh, no this is not good. No matter how hard you try, you always end up back in Jimin’s web. It hasn’t even been two days. But here you are. Back in his arms. You’re failing to keep your control. You’re losing it. This is not good at all.

And your greed, little thing, is about to consume you whole.

You know this path is directed toward your destruction. You’re putting away all the morals. You’re willing to take this risk. Why?

You thought you finally made a decision. To stay away. You thought you’d never turn around. No matter how hard it hurts. How fascinating Jimin is to be able to turn it around. Just few words and you’re swooning. How?

What’s happening to you?

You tilt your head upward to look him in the eyes. Those brown orbs. Still glistening. Speaking thousands of words he isn’t saying with his mouth. Mesmerizing. And you find answers to your questions. It’s like lightning struck right on your head. You think you understand what’s happening. Now and then. Back at the club when everything went down. Yoongi was right. Of course, he was. You were acting stupidly that day. Were mad like a hornet. All because you were jealous. Because it hurt you to see him with Liya. You were seeing red from jealousy. And you were feeling the same this morning as well. When you found Liya and Jimin together. Again. Ridiculous. But that’s what happened. And there’s only one reason that would justify your actions.

Oh, no.

You’re falling for Park Jimin.

That’s what is happening to you. You’ve been falling for Park Jimin ever since the day you woke up next to him. And ever since then, you’ve let yourself keep falling. Now you’re near the very bottom. There’d be no way up. But what can you do, though. It’s already started. You’re falling for him. For Park Jimin.

Falling deep and down.  

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a/n- Leave a note if you enjoyed this one!

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Taglist - @chimmy-licious @graydolan12 @smoljimjim @likemeforme @sugas-baby-girl @canarystwin @jkayy @floboo6 @sunshinenmidnight @fiddlebiddls @unlikelycheesecakeenthusiast @mar-lo-pap @angelicsmilesworld @jimincrystal @datspjm @shakes0peare @butterymin @angellekookie @futuristicenemychaos @minijagiya @anumita-2007 @joulekanitz @llallaaa

[scullyphile]

there's more vampire!scully au coming soon, don't worry!

[osamusriceballs]

The Accident Part VIII

Atsumu x fem reader

Warnings: None

Words: ~ 2k

About: You finally meet your good friend <3

Part I II -> Next part

"You know each other?!"

You stare at Atsumu with wide eyes, who just stares at the short blonde next to you and raises his eyebrows as if he just had an epiphany.

"Where have I—wait. Karasuno. Karasuno's manager! You're a friend of Shoyo-kun!" Atsumu's eyes shine when he talks about Karasuno, and you furrow your brows when you remember that it's the name of Yachi's old school. "Shoyo-kun? Like—Hinata Shoyo?" You ask, recalling a bright orange-haired man you've met a few times already when Yachi had invited you to drink with her and her friends. They had always been a lively bunch, definitely growing on you the more often you saw them.

"Hmm, we work together," Atsumu nods, and you blankly stare at him while you try to digest that piece of information. You know that Hinata is a professional volleyball player. Very professional. Olympics level professional. He offered you cards to his games quite a few times, and you had politely declined, not wanting to cause him trouble, but he had sent you tickets anyway for a game in a few weeks.

That probably means that Atsumu is a professional player too—or he might be some kind of manager, according to the vague statement that they are working together. His physique and his posture tell you that he potentially could be an athlete- you would believe that in a second.

"Working together like... playing volleyball too?" You ask for clarification, tilting your head curiously while you watch his reaction. His lips curl into a smug smile, and the confidence he's radiating now makes your legs turn into jelly.

"Yeah. I'm a professional, just like Shoyo-kun. He loves my sets, by the way. Always aces them with no problem."

His eyes capture yours and you hang on his every word, definitely surprised by the development. You're married to a probably very famous professional Olympia volleyball player. You're not even sure what to think about this; the new details just made the whole situation more absurd and unrealistic. The only good thing is that Yachi apparently knows him. You could maybe get more information out of Yachi about him later.

"I—wait. The marriage—you married ATSUMU MIYA?" Your attention shifts to Yachi, who turns almost worryingly red, and you quickly step closer to her and reach for her arm, trying to calm her down. "Yes, but it's okay. He's a good guy, okay?" You smile encouragingly, and Yachi takes a few hasty loud breaths before she nods.

Atsumu watches you both and awkwardly clears his throat, a faint blush covering his cheeks at your words, and rubs the back of his head. "I'll leave ya two alone then. I'll call ya, y/n."

The last thing you see is his smile before he turns around and walks away with his hands in his pockets now. His broad back is evident, especially when he's wearing the white dress shirt, and you can't help but admire the man for a second before Yachi enters your sight once again.

"Y/n! - what happened?!"

xxx

"I can't believe you're married to Atsumu Miya!" she exclaims, still sounding shocked as she repeats the same sentence for the third time after you managed to tell her the fully story during the car ride. Both of you sit on her comfortable plush couch, adorned with a few of her stylish designer blankets. You're glad to be in a familiar place finally, but you can't help but to think about Atsumu. Will he call or leave a message soon? You wouldn't mind him calling today already- just to make sure you have his number. Nothing else. Just to clear that whole marriage thing. And nothing else.

You nod with a mild smile an attempt to calm her slight panic. Atsumu has assured you that everything will be taken care of, and you find yourself actually trusting him. "It'll be okay. You mentioned he's a good guy, right? I mean, he's friends with Hinata."

Yachi deeply inhales and takes a sip of her tea and nods. "He's close to Hinata. They get along really well. But let me tell you, Atsumu Miya in high school is something else. His serves were powerful and terrifying- not as much as today, but still enough to keep us all on the edge. Even Nishinoya had a hard time receiving them. Atsumu-san and Osamu-san managed to copy Hinata's and Kageyama's special attack effortlessly. It was insane. Maybe we can find a recording of it."

She grabs the remote to turn on the TV, and you lean forward eagerly at the thought of seeing more of Atsumu. "I wonder what Atsumu looked like in high school," you muse, taking a sip of your tea, its slight bitterness complementing the rich flavor. "He basically still looks the same. His hair got a bit brighter, and I think he grew a bit. And gained mass," Yachi responds, finding what she's looking for with an excited squeal. "Here!"

You both watch how a much younger Atsumu raises his arm and much to your surprise the whole crowd falls silent. "What- that's not normal, is it?" You turn to Yachi who seems slightly pale, probably because she remembers the moment vividly. "That's normal for Atsumu Miya. He was so good and popular that he got that special treatment. It helps him to focus. Oh, and watch his steps! You can tell what kind of serve he's going to make by the number of his steps."

You diligently nod and watch him serve again, taking six steps this time. The camera angle is a tad bit closer this time, and you don't fail to see his yellow-ish hair that definitely looks different compared to his looks today. He was very fit, even back then, but he is definitely more buff today.

You watch some more of Atsumu's powerful serves, his form screaming utmost perfection, and memories of the very same strong, muscular arms wrapped around you make heat rush to your cheeks. Yachi continues to share insights about his playing style, and you quickly try to focus on her words.

"...their combined attacks are difficult to anticipate. But look at how Kei blocks it!" You nod enthusiastically while you observe Tsukishima's impressive block. The video then shifts to another game, showcasing Atsumu in a black uniform adorned with yellow claw prints on his sleeves.

"Oh, that's from the MSBY game! You should have seen him; there's this amazing set—" Yachi's words trail off as the camera cuts to an unusual angle, revealing Atsumu's impressive thighs in full glory as he sets the ball with a ridiculously seductive smile. Your jaw drops at the unexpected sight- you know for sure you would have fainted if you saw that scene in live. How dare he look so good while setting the ball?? "Look, Hinata easily managed to hit that! And there's Bokuto-san!" You recognize the orange-haired spiker, sharing a smile and high-five with Bokuto. "I can't believe that they all actually know each other."

"Yeah," Yachi smiles and nods. "Hinata always talks about Atsumu-san. And Bokuto-san is close with Osamu-san, I think. I've seen him post a few pictures with Akaashi-san at Onigiri-Miya."

"Is that the name of his restaurant? Atsumu said he would take me there someday." Yachi gives you a side-eye, and reaches for her phone. "You've gotten pretty close, haven't you? You seemed really flustered when-" You quickly interrupt her, "No! I—I don't even know him. I don't even have his number. He was just being nice, we're not really close."

Yachi nods with a small grin, and hands you her phone. "Here. That's his Instagram. He's also often at Onigiri Miya. It seems like he's very proud of his brother's success. I though you might want to have a look at his life."

"Thank you." Yachi is truly a great friend, and you feel once again fond of being close to her. As you scroll through Atsumu's Instagram, you find a mix of game snapshots, some pictures with Osamu, in which he always has a plate full of food in front of him, and you can't help but zoom into the plates, impressed by the neatly arranged dishes. As you keep on scrolling, you almost gasp loudly when you find a very surprising collaboration with Calvin Klein, featuring a shirtless Atsumu from a very close perspective. At first, you keep on scrolling, too flustered at the sudden revealing picture, but curiosity makes you go back after a few moments, and you look at the picture again.

He looks good. His muscles are well-defined and he grins seductively for the camera while he poses, clad in only a ripped pair of jeans. It's almost unfair how ridiculously attractive he looks, but you still think that he looks even better when he's just woken up, just like he did this morning. You exhale loudly and curiously click on the comments.

"I would pay real money to have him like this in my bed." "Christmas came early this year- and so did I." "Bless the Miya genes. I'd gladly help to spread them." "Thank you Calvin Klein. I'll make sure to get a pair of these pants." "*FAINTS* HE'S SO HOT, I CAN'T-"

You're startled when you notice how the comments get even more unhinged and shameless as you keep on scrolling. "He... has a lot of fans," you remark, scrolling back to the top and handing Yachi her phone back, to which she nods heavily. "He had his own fan club in high school, and ever since the Japanese team won the Olympics, the whole team has been very popular. Especially Atsumu-san and Sakusa-san."

You hesitate before asking the next question, uncertain of what the answer might bring. "Is there a reason why he's single? He seems like a decent guy, looks good, and he's probably rich. Isn't he the perfect catch?"

Yachi furrows her brows, thinking. "I don't know, actually. It's probably the same as with Hinata and Kageyama. They focus a lot on their careers; they simply don't have time for dating. I also found out that most volleyball boys can be a bit... intense. It's probably hard to find a partner that understands their passion. They prioritize training over anything else. I've never seen Hinata skip a day of training, no matter what happens. Their partners must accept that they put a lot of their energy and time into their jobs."

"Ah," you simply nod, slightly surprised by the revelation. You would have assumed that they have a very lively dating life, but it seems like they just live for work. Sounds a bit lonely.

"I also think that some fans are a bit obsessed with their private lives. There was an incident before with Atsumu-san and one of their fans- but things have calmed down lately, so you should be fine." Yachi reassures you, reaching for a cookie on the couch table.

"I think that—" she is interrupted by the sudden sound of a ringing phone, and both of you exchange confused glances before realizing it's your phone. Yachi's eyes light up, and she squeals, "Maybe it's him—I mean, I could have gotten his number through Hinata, but maybe he's got some news—"

You fumble with the phone, the unknown number undoubtedly belonging to Atsumu. Taking a deep breath, you nod at her and hold the phone to your ear, answering the call with a simple,

"Hello?"

[the-sparkling-diamond-satine]

if you title this you could post the first few chapters already!!! (for the wip ask game lol)

WIP Ask Game! tw: abuse implied

But Christian isn’t looking at her face. His gaze is currently fixed on Satine’s wrist where—Satine notices as if in slow motion and with a lurch of her stomach—the sleeve of her coat has ridden up and a nasty purple bruise is on full display. Unable to adjust her sleeve with her hands full of coffee cups, Satine rotates her arm but it’s too late; the damage has been done. “Are you alright?” Christian asks, reaching for her arm. His touch is as warm as Satine remembers but she flinches back from it as if it’s scalding hot. “I’m fine.” “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?” Christian asks, searching her eyes. “Not at all,” Satine hastens to reassure him, realizing too late that she probably should have taken that excuse when it was offered to her, that flinching away from something that didn't hurt is suspicious while flinching away from something that did is reasonable. “Nothing to worry about,” Satine tries next, “just one of the hazards of live theatre. The show has a lot of lifts and I bruise easily. You’ll see tonight—the dancing is incredible,” Satine says, trying to get him back on topic of opening night.

[dreamlandxrunaway]

yall.... I think you're actually getting an update for 1cdat... no fucking way! after a year... and... some... more :')

I'm actually gonna post it in a day or two... or maybe even in less than 24h... depends on whether I feel like making a teaser or not hahahaha (ig I could aways just make the moodboard for it anyways hahaha, I'll see what happens)

Well... those are some good news about that damned smau... but.. that also means that now I have to start the second part of what was supposed to be a one parter that I separated in two once I realized that... maybe... just maybe... it's not a good idea to post a 14k+ chapter like that with the spead i write at 😭😭😭 I can't possible make ppl wait for two years... one was enough LOL

[solenstelluna]

there's nothing better than making art late at night and then posting it immediately after you finish super early in the morning!

Anyways the Riolu is named Mace and the Skitty is Susie and now that I've posted about them I hope you look forward to seeing them more than just this time

[singsweetmelodies]

Oh my God, I love that kiss fic already and now it's even harder to wait for the new chapter(s). I loooove that you love what you're writing, that's so important!!!!! Sending love your wayyyyy (and obvs don't feel pressured, pls) <33333

awwwww! anon, this is so sweet <3333 and i couldn't agree more!! it really is SO important to love what you're writing, because nothing burns you out faster than when you're not getting joy from writing, you know? thankfully, nothing gives me quite as much joy as these two french & french-adjacent fucks doing the nasty 🤭 what that says about ME and about my sanity, i have no idea, but at least it's fabulous for the writing 🤣❤️

[winnow-girl]

chapter one of Kaleidoscope on Your Swordpoint, my Sword Art Online fic i'm writing in an attempt to exorcise it from myself, is out now! can't believe i'm actually uploading two things in one day, in timely fashion. i think hell might be freezing over.

kiri haunts my dreams and maybe starting actually uploading this darn thing will help. i have way too much written and a terrifyingly even larger portion left to write, but such is life.

i'm gonna go pet my cats and then pass out. peace.

[aparticularbandit]

SO.

This is your head's up that - unless it is relevant to current Agatha All Along etc. - if you send me a prompt, I will probably be saving it for December.

I apologize ahead of time for the wait! But I'm trying to get all of these set and ready so, like I said above, I won't end up. rushing everything.

And also the addendum that if there are no prompts then I'm just gonna do whatever, which is fun for me, but I'd like these to be things y'all want.

SO LET ME KNOW IF YOU HAVE PROMPTS AND ETC.

So.

Last December, I tried to post fic daily - whether that was a one-shot or a chapter of something longer - because I understand that December can be a really rough time of year for people (including me), and I wanted to try and help ease that a little.

...given that most of those were written either the day/night before or day of, I'd like to get an earlier start this year.

SO.

I'm taking prompts! Now throughout December! For any of the fandoms I'm blatantly in and writing (Marvel (both MCU and comics (one I'm better at but. I can research)), Danganronpa (new this year!), Kathryn Hahn etc. (Mrs. Fletcher and Glass Onion (yes, I will take fam requests)), Jane the Virgin (Roisa primarily but I can be persuaded to write other ships), Who Framed Roger Rabbit (with the addendum that my Jess is...complicated)) AND OTHER FANDOMS - last year I wrote Everlark! and got into Marvel comics to write Viv Vision! among! other things!

So like - prompt away! Feel free to send in random stuff, because the worst I can do is say no, and that's basically the same as not asking me in the first place.

That said!

Please do not ask me to write Game of Thrones. I know nothing other than the first book, the first two episodes, and what I've seen on my dash. It would be wildly out of character.

Please also no Hazbin Hotel because that is a minefield of triggers waiting to happen.

Also I do not write smut or graphic sexual content. Those are the big nos.

BEYOND THAT. ASK AWAY. AND WE'LL SEE.

[ladadiida]

𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as you wanted to stay by his side, you couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall in love with other women while you're stuck at the kitchen washing dishes and measuring ingredients. so you dreamt of leaving, of traveling to different islands to share your lovely songs and tunes; but the more your desire to leave grows, the more sanji finds himself drowning in your warmth.

or,

you and sanji over the years, wherein five times you tried to leave him and the one time you finally did, despite his refusal to let you go.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 musician reader, 5 + 1 things, pining, unrequited love, not actually unrequited love, heavy (kind of) angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 HERE IT IS! the response to the sneak peek was crazy, and so i rushed to get this done. i only watched the live action so beware of minor mistakes if you ever saw one. english is also not my first language and you are welcome to correct me anytime for any grammatical errors. title is a lyric from the last time by taylor swift ft. gary lightbody. this fic is also posted in ao3 with its full summary and WITH A BONUS CHAPTER. enjoy reading!

𝐰𝐜 11.3k

"There you are."

Your soapy, wet hands almost dropped the ceramic plate you were currently washing in the dirty kitchen sink as soon as you heard a familiar smooth and honeyed voice. Abruptly turning off the sink so that the sound of his approaching footsteps were clear to your ears, you wiped the sweat off your forehead with the back of your hand before turning your body towards him.

He was carrying a stack of plates, a fresh batch to add to the pile you had to wash, with an obnoxious yet handsome smile plastered on his lips. You took a deep breath to calm the growing irritation at the bottom of your stomach, reminding yourself that this was your job and you only had a couple of hours to endure until you're free to lock yourself up in your bedroom. You were particularly looking forward to writing today, and the thought of finishing the lyrics to your new song tonight slightly eased your mood. Accepting your fate, you pointed to the remaining space beside the sink.

"Place it there." You told him, albeit begrudgingly as you turn on the sink again and pour more soap on the battered sponge.

You took a mental note to ask Zeff later about buying new sponges, and if you were lucky to catch him in a good mood, you'll put in a request to get the sink fixed and cleaned. Your eyes scanned over the grime and rust around the area. If you were going to spend the rest of your life washing dishes, then you might as well get a proper kitchen sink to do so.

An amused laugh fell out of the golden haired man you grew up with, surprised at your compliance to do the job you hated. The sound nearly sent your poor heart into a dizzying whirlwind of little nuisances called emotions. "What a hardworking woman."

"I could say the same to you. It seems like you have a new record today." You said while you splashed dirtied bowls with soap water, smiling at him teasingly, "Thought you would've been kicked out of the line by now."

"The old man just can't help but to accept the fact that I am a greater cook than him." He smirked, wiping a knife with a dish cloth. Trying not to roll your eyes, you shook your head at his usual display of arrogance, yet you can't help but to grin as you began to hear scratching sounds against the floors.

"Then you better get those chopped carrots ready." You replied, and when you got to finish your sentence, the doors to the kitchen swung open, revealing the head chef.

Zeff's cold and steely eyes immediately landed on the blond. He walked towards him with a fast pace despite only having one leg, his braided mustache bouncing in each step.

"Aye, aye, aye. Why haven't you started on the carrots yet, little eggplant? Can you get any slower?" He scolded, loud enough for the whole staff to hear, but none of them even flinched. You returned back to your plates and glasses, smiling softly. This was part of your routine everyday: to listen in their silly arguments.

However, before the younger chef can reply, you butted in, "Sanji fetched some of the plates for me. Since there's a lunch rush, I couldn't leave the kitchen."

Zeff let out a low hum. You couldn't even see Sanji's face, but you knew him well enough to know that he was smiling triumphantly, knowing that he won this time. After a few minutes of contemplating, the head chef clicked his tongue. "Don't defend him, little lass. But I'll let it slip this time. What are you waiting for, then? Start cutting them!"

"Yes, chef." Sanji answered in a jovial manner, placing the carrots on a chopping board.

Twisting the faucet lever so that the water flow from the sink is gentle and quiet, you then paid attention to their little banters every now and then. You brought up a wine glass and positioned it by your side to try to get a glimpse of the two most important men in your life. Through their reflection on the glass, you can see Zeff hunching over Sanji's knifework, nodding every time the vegetables were correctly sliced.

On the other hand, Sanji was unbothered by the head chef's observations and continued to cut the ingredients calmly. Some of the strands in his hair fell down on one side of his face, covering an eye, and most people would think that it was an unusual way of styling hair; yet it was one thing out of many that you loved the most about him.

You accepted it years ago.

You accepted the fact that you somehow fell in love with Sanji Vinsmoke along your weird journey of working in a sea restaurant full of former pirates and making music while at it. How the pesky feelings grew and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. Maybe it was when he learned to cook your favorite food and gave it to you afterwards, or the way his crystal blue eyes reminded you of snowflakes every winter.

Or maybe it was when he pulled your hair out of jealousy the moment he learned that Zeff would be taking in another child in his care, but brushed it and even braided it after the latter cleared the misunderstanding. Maybe it was when he supported you in your dreams and told you they weren't silly, maybe it was when he fought off drunk men that were trying to hit on you. Or maybe it was the way his voice would drop an octave lower whenever he asks you for a favor. The list could go on and on and you still wouldn't know the reason why. It doesn't matter anyway. You tripped, you fell, and now you're pining.

Drying off the last of the plates, you washed your own hands after and patted them dry on your skirt. You were the last one to leave the kitchen, the other staff already back in their quarters after a long, exhausting day of cooking. You fixed the signature blue bandana tied in your hair then went on your way towards the upper deck.

You weren't blessed with a talent in cooking, so you offered to do chores instead. Washing the dishes, cleaning the restaurant, and doing the laundry were few of the things you do in the Baratie. You can't say that you enjoy it, but you were beyond grateful that Zeff gave you a chance despite his opposition to let a woman work inside his restaurant.

As you were about to go to the newly laundered clothes you hung on a thin wire earlier that morning, you heard two voices speaking. You also smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air, and you only knew one person who could be smoking at this hour. Your breath hitched in anticipation.

"You bringing a woman to your bed again, Sanji?" The other person asked playfully, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. You carefully took a peek so you won't accidentally reveal yourself and be accused of eavesdropping. Two people came into view with their backs facing you.

"Now, what are you talking about, Patty? I am a gentleman. I only had a nice chat with the lovely lady and escorted her back to her ship." Sanji interjected, a cigarette hanging on his lips.

Patty huffed. "I didn't know that chatting included kiss marks on jawlines."

This caused Sanji to laugh and say, "Not my fault she was charmed by my food."

"The boss man ain't gonna like it when he finds out about this."

"He's not gonna find out." Sanji assured him, wiping off the said kiss mark on his jaw. You stared at him as he did so, and you pitied the woman who planted that kiss, knowing she was just one of the many beautiful ladies Sanji had flirted with before. However, a tinge of pain in your chest said otherwise, taunting you that it was not pity you're feeling, but foul jealousy.

"Why don't you look for more decent women, eh? How about 'little lass' for a change?" Patty suddenly suggested.

It was like someone had hit your stomach with one of the metal pans in the kitchen with the way it lurched in surprise and nervousness. Your heartbeat started to quicken the longer you waited for his response, making your grip on your skirt tighter. In moments like these, you allowed yourself to hope, to wish that he saw something in you and that he finds you beautiful and lovely enough to be the person standing by his side.

But his answer made all that hope crumble down into nothing but dust.

"I don't see her that way." Sanji said after a long stretch of silence, taking a long drag from the cigarette then releasing the smoke in a single breath.

Ah.

You blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from forming. It's always been like this, so why can't you get used to it? Taking a deep breath, you gulped away the knot forming in your throat and decided to leave. You can grab the clothes later.

"You're too kind for him." Someone behind you spoke, making you jump and tense up. Turning around, you saw Zeff looking at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and his hands on his hips, almost like he knew your secret. Of course he does. He always sees everything.

You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"

"That boy is always up to something." He began, switching his attention to Sanji. "One minute he's stubbornly immature in the kitchen, and the next he'll be a thirsty man staring at women like they're liquid booze."

Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.

"Well, he can be a lot sometimes." You agreed, remembering the days when the two of you would fight over irrelevant matters. Then you chuckled and continued, "But he's kind. He's gentle, and lovely, like a freshly made poem you keep repeating in your head. But then he's also confusing, hot-headed, and reckless. He's like the sea, isn't he? Calm yet wrapped with mystery, dangerous yet beautiful..."

You trailed off, an unbearable heat rising up your cheeks and neck once you slowly began to realize that you just ranted out your feelings to the head chef. You glanced at him with wide eyes, preparing to see a disgusted look on his face; however, Zeff didn't appear to be repulsed by your little speech. In fact, the corners of his lips were slightly quirked up.

"But I cannot swim. If I were to drown, he wouldn't save me." You quickly added, hoping to shut down the topic.

He sighed. "You will meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve them, little lass." He simply said. He then laid his hand out, and on his palm was a little box poorly tied with a ribbon. "Here, for you."

Altnough you were a bit confused at the random gift, you accepted it and cradled the box to your chest. "I'll be okay, Zeff." You insisted, grinning cheekily. "When I become famous, I'll sing my songs here in Baratie, and people would flood the restaurant to hear my singing. And to eat your food too, of course."

The head chef nodded, relief flooding his expression. "I look forward to that." He said while awkwardly returning your smile.

That night, when you were sure that everyone in the Baratie was asleep, you opened the loose floorboard on the floors of your bedroom and grabbed the wooden box you kept hidden for a long time now. You opened the lid and began counting the Berry you saved for the past few months.

Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.

You just can't stay here. Yes, you had a roof over your head, delicious food to eat everyday, and clean clothes to wear but you were so miserable. This wasn't the life you wanted. You wish to go out there, sing your heart out, and fall in love with someone who actually loves you back.

A knock on your door made you freeze. You held your breath as the person on the other side continued to knock a few more times. "You awake?"

Pain surged through your veins, your chest twisting in agony. Sanji.

"You didn't come down for dinner. I guess you're too tired, hmm?" He said, his muffled voice gentle, and the sound almost prompted you to stand up and open the door for him. But you dug your fingernails in your palms and resisted, because you can't just let this opportunity pass by.

You heard a brief clinking sound before Sanji spoke again, "Sweet dreams, ange."

Once his footsteps faded away, you cautiously moved towards your door and opened it as quietly as you can. There, on the floor, was a small plate with a slice of your favorite desert: angel's food cake, topped with fresh cream and strawberries.

You bent down and saw a note beside the plate. And when you got to read the contents of the note, you burst into tears and sobs that wracked down your entire body.

Happy Birthday

— S.

You ate the cake with tears silently falling down your cheeks, and that was the first time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

Today was the day, and you won't allow anyone to ruin it for you.

You had saved enough Berries to travel around the world and sustain yourself for the upcoming months. Your notebook containing the lyrics of the songs you wrote laid open on top of your bed as you spent all night revising them while planning out an itinerary. Then you'll find a place to settle in, a stable job that required doing what you loved the most, and overall just be peaceful and free from pirates and chefs and pirate chefs. It was perfect.

Folded clothes surrounded you everywhere, ready to be packed in your bags. Once you finished stuffing them all in, you grabbed your treasured instrument, the one thing you couldn't live without: your guitar, which has been with you since you were a little child. It was given by your mother and you've been attached to it ever since.

It has scratches all over its wooden surface, and the strings needed some fixing occassionally, but you wouldn't trade it for the greatest treasures in the world. You ran your fingers over it, suddenly feeling like it was lacking something. Seeing the paint chipping off at the corners, you figured that it needed a little color.  You'll need lacquer, and paint if you managed to find some.

You set the guitar aside and left your bedroom to head downstairs to the kitchen. As you were about to push the doors open, a loud, angry shout made you stop in your tracks.

"I won't ever become a pathetic waiter for you!" Sanji's thunderous yells can be heard from outside. Your shoulders tensed up. It was a good thing that brunch was over and all the customers had left.

Zeff's own furious voice followed, "Leave then, for all I care! You can do anything you want, but don't you ever serve one of your shit dishes in my kitchen!"

A frown settled on your face. Their fights were a normal occurrence to you, but this one sounded more grave than usual. Crossing your arms, you stepped in closer to the entrance and hesitated whether you should go in or not. Before you could make a decision, Zeff beat you to it by pushing the doors open, rage emanating from his figure as he ignored and walked past you.

Without hesitation this time, you entered the kitchen, greeted by the sight of Sanji bowing over the counter, breathing heavily, his face covered with his hair. He didn't move an inch even as you approached him, the clacking of the heels in your boots echoing throughout the room.

Both of you were silent as you rummaged through cabinets, trying to find lacquer to cover your guitar with, while he tried his best to calm himself down after his outburst. Many cupboards later, you finally found a small can of used up lacquer, but as you started to reach for it, your hand completely stopped mid-air.

You looked over your shoulder, and found Sanji already recovered from the argument seeing that he was on the move again, preparing a cut of beef tenderloin and other ingredients he needed for tonight's dinner.

Slowly, you closed the cupboard and went closer to him. He still refused to look at you. And so you watched him place a bag of flour on the countertop, slices of cold butter, and a variety of spice bottles to season the meat with.

Sanji began to wrap twine around the beef tenderloin. You sighed, and before you could stop yourself, you grabbed a bowl and decided to help him. Your guitar can wait.

It was rare for you to cook inside the kitchen, having so little knowledge about food and how they were prepared, but you knew this recipe well. You poured two cups of flour through the sifter, followed by placing heaps of the cold butter in the mixture.

The moment you started to mix the dough for the puff pastry, Sanji quickly pointed out in a monotone voice, "You're adding too much butter."

You raised your head and glanced at him, his attention now on the meat he was searing on a skillet. You smiled, glad that he was speaking again.

"You're beginning to sound like the old man himself." You joked lightly.

His jaw clenched. "Don't compare me to that shitty geezer."

In a softer voice, you asked, "What happened?"

"The usual." He replied curtly. "Didn't approve of my dishes."

You perked up upon hearing about a dish he made himself. Sanji was talented when it comes to creating his own recipes, and sometimes, you would be the person he chooses to test them out. Every time he lets you taste them, your chest would feel warm and you wouldn't be able to sleep for days because you'll keep replaying it in your head. "What did you make this time?"

"It doesn't matter. He'll never agree to any of them."

"Maybe I can—"

"Drop it. Don't poke your nose in things you're not involved." Sanji cut you off, his hardened gaze meeting your concerned stare. You only blinked at him, straightening up.

"I see." You muttered, eyes landing on the bag of flour. You looked at him, then at the flour, then back at him. A smile began to form on your lips as a devious plan formulated itself in your brain. Sticking your hand inside the bag of flour, you took a fistful of the pillowy powder and threw it straight into his face.

Sanji jumped back, flinching and closing his eyes when some of the flour's particles managed to enter them. His jaw dropped open in surprise, hands quickly removing themselves from the skillet's handle to dust off the flour that rested on his now white hair. You tried to stifle a laugh as you watched him struggle getting the flour out.

Once he managed to clean himself, he stared straight at you and said in the calmest way possible, even if you knew deep inside that he was fuming, "What was that for?"

A high-pitched snort left your mouth. You covered it to prevent yourself from laughing.

You cleared your throat and smiled at him innocently. "Am I involved now?"

His piercing blue eyes then started to sparkle with mirth, amusement replacing the vexation previously swimming in them. He also looked to be trying to push down a smile, and that made your heart skip a beat. "You're insufferable."

He reached for the bag of flour. You squeaked and took off running, trying to escape from his attack, but he still managed to throw a small amount on you. Giggling, you ran the opposite direction to confuse him, and yet he caught up with you, throwing another round of flour. This time, it hit your cheeks, making you laugh loudly. He laughed along, pointing a finger at you because you probably looked crazy at the moment.

You tried to take the bag of flour away from him, but he just took it an as opportunity to catch your arm and grip it firmly. He pulled you into his chest, caging you completely.

With your cheeks warm and your breaths short, you tilted your head up and looked at him, noticing the way that you were both covered in flour; and not only that, you also noticed the short distance between your bodies and how your noses were almost touching. His pupils were dilated, black dominating the alluring blue shade that kept haunting your dreams. You drank in the attention he was giving you, the breathing coming out from his soft lips, and the comfortable silence that wrapped around the both of you like a safe little bubble.

"Caught you." Sanji muttered, voice deeper and huskier, making you let out a quiet sigh. His arms snaked around your waist as he leaned in closer. A million questions started to run inside your head, begging to know what this situation was and how you got into it. "Nowhere to run now, darling."

A slamming of doors shattered the secret moment you shared, and you immediately pulled away from each other. You pushed down your disappointment and hid it in the secret crevice in your heart as the two of you faced your intruder.

Zeff observed your flour-laden figures, his thick eyebrows scrunched together in irritation. He then demanded, voice seething and dripping with anger, "What in the hell are you two little brats doing?"

Sanji blurted out in defense, "Zeff, we—she was the one who started it!"

"And you went along with it!" You accused incredulously, grinning from ear-to-ear. Sanji grinned back, shaking his head and biting his lower lip.

"Oh, shut up before I stitch your mouths! Just by looking at you two, I already know that you snot-nosed shits are both at fault!" Zeff shouted, clicking his tongue at the sight of the half emptied flour. "Wasted them good flour for your childish fights. You're even worse than fatwits. Get out and clean the toilets!"

"Not the shitty toilets!" Sanji groaned, and you couldn't blame him for it. The bathroom area smelled revolting and the floors were always wet for some reason.

"I don't wanna hear complaints from you when you've dirtied my kitchen! Off you go!" Zeff dismissed, and you can't help but to laugh again when you saw Sanji pout like a little kid.

The head chef watched the two of you leave the kitchen together while giggling and exchanging fond looks. Patty, who also saw the whole situation unfold, suddenly appeared beside him, snickering, "I can already hear the wedding bells ringing."

Zeff took a deep, tired breath.

"Oh, they're ringing alright."

You cleaned and scrubbed the toilets the entire afternoon with the man you're in love with, flushing your plans down the drain and forgetting all about them, and that was the second time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

You didn't know how you ended up in a ship full of pirates.

Well, maybe you knew. A little. But it wasn't supposed to be like this.

Your knuckles were beginning to turn white with how tight you were clenching them. A mix of emotions swirled around in your chest, namely confusion, impatience, and hesitation, pondering about whether you should be irritated at yourself or at Sanji.

The opportunity was there, handed to you like a steak on a golden platter, or a miracle that suddenly fell from the sky. The day you met Luffy and his strange pirate crew was the day you immediately realized that he was the key to your exit from the Baratie. He was friendly; a good pirate, according to his own words, so you figured he would allow you to tag along for a while until you find an island to get off to. You just had to ask for his permission and wait for his reply.

Luffy agreed. And you were ecstatic. You were finally going to leave Sanji Vinsmoke and your pathetic, unrequited feelings behind.

Or so you thought.

You watched in horror as he followed you when you boarded the Going Merry, also carrying a bag of his own. He said something along the lines of Luffy needing a cook for the journey to the Grand Line but you couldn't care less. You got here first. Why was he here?

So here you were, sitting in a corner, lonelier than ever and regretting your life decisions. You watched Luffy and his friends celebrate after defeating the pirate Arlong and saving Coco Village from his inhuman hold over its people, but Sanji and the beautiful orange haired Nami were nowhere in sight.

The thought of them being gone together at the same time left a bitter aftertaste on your tongue.

Nami. The first time you laid eyes on her, ethereal was the word that came up to your mind. With soft deep saffron locks that framed her small face and a wide blue eyed gaze, she would have the cruelest of men begging for mercy and affection at her feet.

Unfortunately, Sanji was one of those men.

Fuck, you cursed mentally, rubbing your face with your hands to try and forget about the times he flirted with her and the moments he wouldn't stop talking about her or kept asking about her favorite food or dessert or if she's into blonds. Your already battered heart doesn't need the usual reminder that he'll never see you that way, that you weren't going to experience his sweet words and his loving gazes.

You took a sharp breath. It's okay, you tell yourself over and over again until they were buried in your heart. They'll make a great pair, Sanji the cook and Nami the thief. A strong man with an equally strong woman. Yes. That makes sense.

You'll leave soon anyway, and you'll no longer have to worry about seeing them or how they were going to end up together.

And yet you can't help but to think about the things that could've been if you were the one he was in love with instead.

You were crossing your arms and hugging yourself as the crisp afternoon air was getting chilly when a hand gripping a shot glass filled with amber liquid appeared in front of you. Looking up, you saw Luffy smiling widely at you, waving the glass encouragingly.

"Come on, just one drink! Usopp poured this for you!" The captain exclaimed heartily, obviously trying to uplift your spirits and to make you feel welcomed in his crew, even though you did nothing but to guard the Going Merry while they were fighting for their lives.

You shook your head and smiled politely. "No, I don't drink. Sorry."

Luffy's smile faltered, but he recovered quickly. He nodded, setting the glass down on top of a barrel. "Well, okay." He said, then turned to Usopp, who was currently downing a whole bottle of whiskey. "Hey, where's Nami?"

"Oh, she's with the cook," Usopp replied cheekily, wiping his mouth after drinking. There was a teasing tone in his voice as he continued, "Someone's getting a boyfriend tonight!"

With that said, you reached for the shot glass that Luffy was offering you earlier, grabbed it swiftly, and poured the whole thing down your throat. The whiskey tasted unfamiliar, and it burned and made you dizzy at first taste, but it doesn't matter; as long as it can make you forget just for a little while, you were willing to drink more of the horrible beverage.

Zoro, the green haired swordsman and the captain's first mate, stared at you as if you had lost your mind, but a tinge of concern was visibly written on his face. "Woah, slow down." He warned sternly.

"I thought you didn't drink." Was all Luffy said, blinking in confusion. You chuckled tiredly.

"Now I do."

Drink after drink, glass after glass. You lost count on how many times Usopp poured whiskey for you, or how many times Zoro shook his head in disbelief. Luffy was the same old happy-go-lucky captain throughout the disaster that was starting to brew inside you, turning your brain into mush. You can barely lift your head or your fingers as you asked for another shot in an incoherent voice. Luckily, Usopp was still able to understand you, tipping the whiskey bottle yet again towards your glass.

You started to raise the glass to your lips, eager to just get severely drunk and be over with it already. However, you suddenly felt strong fingers wrap around your wrist to stop you from drinking; and when you caught sight of a familiar silver ring with Baratie's jolly roger inlaid upon it, you didn't need to look up to know who it was.

Sanji's voice was unnervingly calm as he questioned the crew, but the slight shake in his words lets you know otherwise. "Which one of you allowed her to drink?"

"No one. She took the glass and made the decision herself." Zoro drawled, challenging the chef, "The last time I checked, waiter, you were supposed to be the one responsible for her."

Sanji ignored him and turned his attention to you. He stole the shot glass away from you, then kneeled and held your hands comfortingly, smiling. "Come on, ange. It's time for you to rest now." He said quietly, yet loud enough for only you to hear.

You stubbornly shook your head repeatedly and whined loudly. "No! Don't touch me!" You cried, prying your hands away from his, "I don't like you...!"

Zoro huffed in amusement at your declaration. Sanji glared at him for a short second before looking at you again. This time, he stood and gently placed his arms under your shoulders to raise you up. Once you were standing on your feet, he swept you up and carried you bridal style with ease. Another whine escaped your lips.

"Put me down! I want another drink, please, just one more!" You pleaded while throwing weak punches on his chest. Sanji only smiled and began to lead you towards the sleeping quarters. You continued to thrash in his arms as he walked slowly and in small steps so he wouldn't drop you.

Sanji carefully set you down on your hammock. "No drinks for you until you actually learn how to take them." He told you, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear. His thumb caressed the soft skin of your cheek and rubbed it in circles, noting how fast you were heating up due to the alcohol. You pouted.

"Pretty please, Sanji...please..."

He chuckled, staring at you intensely. "Maybe some other time, ange."

You went quiet, staring back at him with half-lidded eyes. Then, you crossed your arms like a child and asked, "Why do you keep calling me that?"

Sanji raised a brow. "Call you what? Ange?"

You nodded. "I don't like it."

He began to smile, the dimples on his cheeks appearing. You briefly wondered if he'd allow you to poke and feel them. "Why?"

"I don't know what it means. Is it an insult?" You wondered aloud, your eyes widening in curiosity.

A hearty and warm laugh came out from Sanji, his eyes forming half-moons as he cackled at your words like they were the biggest joke he heard in his entire life, "Oh, my dear girl, how could I possibly insult you?" He managed to speak between laughs, "It means angel. You're an angel, to me at least. My angel."

Oh.

Your lips parted in surprise. Blinking, you simply said, "You're not Sanji."

He's not Sanji. He wouldn't call you angel; you're not even sure if he found you beautiful or attractive. You wear the same old tattered dresses that Zeff bought for you a long time ago, and you didn't even bother to style your hair or put on face powder like all the other beautiful ladies do. You look nowhere near to an angel.

But Sanji only grinned. "I assure you, I am very much Sanji. The little brat who pulled your hair when we were barely eleven years old."

Your breath hitched at the thought of him remembering one of your fond memories in your childhood. "You remembered."

"Of course I remembered." He whispered, cupping your cheek one last time before he got ready to leave. He turned on his heel and was about to walk away when you spoke.

"Are you going to see her again?" You asked, and he quickly noticed how broken your voice sounded. Sanji faced you in concern and was taken aback with how deep you were frowning. He figured that you were just drunk and women tend to be different when they were intoxicated. You were no exception to that, it seemed.

"Hm?" He hummed, prompting you to elaborate further.

Tears began to form in the corners of your eyes. You shakily mumbled, "Nami...you're going to Nami, aren't you?"

Sanji froze, an icy cold rush filling up his body. A knot formed in his throat, and it continued to tighten the longer he stared at your face. You looked so hurt—like he just destroyed your beloved guitar into pieces. Your lower lips were trembling, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. For a moment, he couldn't find the courage to answer you, feeling like he could die at any second now if he answers your question.

But the answer was simple.

"Yes." He breathed out, a sharp pain stabbing through his heart.

And it only became worse when a teardrop finally rolled down your cheek. "Why?" You rasped, and Sanji didn't know that a single word can hurt this much.

He tried to give you a reassuring smile but awfully failed to do so. He started to explain, "We were just discussing something—"

"Why not me?"

Those three words coming out of your mouth felt like a final blow to his heart. He can feel himself bleed, drained of life and soul because of you and your words alone, and he let you. He let you kill him, he let you make him swim in his own guilt and he doesn't why, why, why.

More tears fell out of your angelic eyes, staining your cheeks with wet trails, and he tried to hold himself back from wiping them off. You choked out, "Why not me, Sanji? I have been asking myself that question for the past decade, and it eats my brain every night like some kind of plague, but I let it anyway. Because why? Why can't you just recognize me and appreciate me and see me? Why can't you go to me if you want to talk about your dreams, or what dish you're planning to create? Why do you have to seek solace in other women when you have me standing by your side everyday, me who is willing to listen to you and whatever you have to say?"

Angry, red rimmed eyes glared at him. Your hair strands stuck to your skin and framed your face as sweat began to form on your forehead. Teardrops clung to your wet eyelashes and your face was drenched like you just took a swim in the ocean. You were burning with fury and rage and want, struggling to breathe properly after your little rant, and Sanji thought you couldn't be more beautiful. You were so beautiful.

"Oh but I couldn't blame you for that. She's just so beautiful, so perfect, and so strong. She could give you anything you wanted and she could be anything that I never was." You hiccuped, smiling forcibly, "But in the end...I will still love you. I will always love you. I think."

You scooted closer to him, leaning in until your faces only had a few inches apart between them. You didn't notice how his lips were slightly parted in shock, nor his eyes that were starting to glisten with his own tears. "No matter where I flee to, or where I lay my heart on, or which skies I look at—it's always you, Sanji. It's always been you."

"I had been so selfless all these years, Sanji. So please, can you pretend to like me too, just for today, before I leave?" You whispered meekly, cupping his cheeks with both of your hands. Numb and completely speechless, Sanji simply gave you a single nod as a response.

You gingerly pressed your lips against his, and he immediately tasted the saltiness of your tears. But your lips were soft, as he expected from an angel like you. And so he couldn't help himself; he closed his eyes and delicately kissed you back, repeating your name in his mind like a sacred prayer and wishing to the stars above to not let the moment end.

However, you broke the kiss by losing consciousness and falling down on your hammock, knocked out and peacefully snoring.

Sanji spaced out, not moving from his position. No. It's not that he didn't want to move—he couldn't move. He couldn't feel anything except for the drumming of his heart, knocking on his chest desperately. His lips were still tingling and his ears and neck were warming up.

He gulped, loosening the collar of his shirt to cool himself down. He needed a cigarette. And a drink.

Scrambling to get up even with his trembling legs, Sanji managed to stand properly. He avoided your sleeping figure and decided to get out of the room as soon as possible. However, when he took a step forward, his foot touched a notebook lying on the floor.

Sanji bent down and took the notebook. He flipped it open, and after reading only the first page, he finally came into a conclusion.

Heartbroken, drunk, and unaware, you dozed off the rest of the afternoon. When nightfall settled on the azure horizon and dusk fell on the rough surface of the sea, you missed the chance to walk away from the crew yet again; and that was the third time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

The next morning, you woke up feeling much better with only the memory of you drinking and crying yourself to sleep and nothing else. Everything was normal, and the crew began to make plans for their next adventure during breakfast.

Everything was normal, except for Sanji, who was quiet throughout the whole discussion. And of course, just like always, you were the only one who noticed his strange behavior. You tried to catch his eyes, but he looked at everywhere except you.

When he finally met your gaze, you gave him a soft smile, hoping he would smile back and everything was fine and you were just overthinking it.

He doesn't.

⸻ • ⸻

"Are you really going to leave?"

Taking your gaze away from the heart shaped cloud you spotted on the clear blue sky, you faced the person who asked the question you were dreading for some time now. Luffy was staring curiously at you, awaiting your answer. You can't help but to smile softly at the captain, whose kindness you have yet to repay.

"I believe we already talked about this, captain." You said, recalling your short conversation last night. He kept asking you if you were really sure about your decision while his eyes darted to a certain blond haired chef every time he shoots you the question. It was strange, and you felt even more suspicious when Sanji pretended not to hear your answer and even refused to glance your way.

Luffy put his hands on his hips. "You know, you're welcome to stay and be a part of my crew."

You crossed your arms, smile growing wide. "And what, pray tell, is my role? Sing battle songs and chant your names while you swing your gummy arms at pirates?" You joked playfully.

The young captain stroked his chin in deep thought, almost like he was considering your suggestion. "That's not a bad idea."

You bursted out laughing, shaking your head in disbelief, "I'll leave first thing in the morning. I told Nami to dock at a nearby island."

"What about Sanji?" He suddenly questioned, leaving you flabbergasted for a split second. You weren't prepared to hear Sanji's name after days of not talking to him properly.

Him not speaking with you wasn't a strange occurence at all; back when you were still in the Baratie, there would be days when Sanji wouldn't bother to acknowledge your presence and would completely ignore you. This would happen whenever he was extremely busy with his cooking or he had a disagreement with Zeff.

And it seemed like this was one of those days, seeing that he had been ignoring you for about a week now. Yes, you have been keeping count. Although he doesn't appear to be angry with you, the short-lived exchanges and the abrupt cut-offs before you could say anything deeply concerned you more than it should have.

You tried to rack your brains for reasons on why he was acting like this. Maybe Nami had rejected him for the hundredth time, or Zoro kept throwing insults in his direction—or maybe his cigarette packet had ran out. Maybe his kitchen knives weren't sharp anymore and he was struggling in the kitchen.

Should you ask him? Should you go to him and demand him to tell you what's wrong?

You pressed your lips together. It sounded like the worst idea you've thought of so far. You convinced yourself that Sanji was fine and he'd be back to normal in no time; there would no need to talk to him.

"What about him?" You faltered, chuckling to ease the tension in your body.

"You care for each other." Luffy explained bluntly and matter-of-factly, "What does he think about you leaving?"

A shaky sigh made its way out of your lips. How will you tell the captain that his cook has been avoiding you like you were some kind of rotten fish these days?

"I..." You stammered, gathering the courage to lie to Luffy even if you thought it would be the gravest sin you could commit, "He...agrees. Yeah. No need to worry."

Luffy grinned, but it didn't look normal at all. You winced in embarrassment. He knew that you were lying and was totally unconvinced.

Luckily, he didn't voice it out. He only nodded and said, "Great! Oh, I have an idea! Why don't you sing for us before we part ways? Think of it as a farewell party for the crew."

Hearing the pure and genuine excitement dripping from his voice, you couldn't turn him down. It was a good idea too, and now that you thought about it, you haven't performed for them yet. "Sure." You agreed, shrugging.

He raised his fist up in the air and cheered. You smiled, watching as he shouted for his crewmates' names to come down and listen to you sing. You prepared yourself for an impromptu performance, making sure that your guitar was properly tuned and your voice was clear enough to give you the best version of your singing. Sitting on top of a barrel, you faced your audience of four, all their eager eyes watching your every move.

As you struck the first chord to your song, you tried hard not to think that Sanji wasn't there to watch you sing the song you secretly dedicate to him.

In the kitchen, Sanji busied himself by plating the food that he'll serve to his fellow crew mates for dinner. He grabbed a large plate and placed the chicken drumsticks that his captain favored, but Luffy wasn't the one in his mind when he cooked those. Looking at the food, he wondered if you would love them too.

He shook his thoughts off and took the plate with him outside. Approaching the crew, his steps slowed down when he heard a familiar singing voice and a melodic tune of a guitar.

Sanji almost dropped the plate.

It was you. Of course it was you, you were the only one he knew who had a voice like that. It was you, and you were singing with a lovely smile painted on your sweet lips, the very same lips that touched his a few days ago, resulting in him not getting a wink of sleep every night. The beam of the sunset right behind you colored your hair in the different shades of the sky as the dulcet-filled notes you made echoed throughout the vast sea. For a moment, he was worried that you were going to attract ferocious sea beasts with your angelic voice and steal you away from him.

He could hear his blood pound in his ears the longer he observed you from afar. You looked happy. Happier than you were when you stayed with him and Zeff. His chest tightened, knowing that you leaving and go on adventures on your own was probably the best decision you could make, even if that means leaving him too.

You were finishing up your song by the time you saw Sanji standing behind Usopp, silently listening. He met your gaze, and for the first time ever, you couldn't read his mind. His expression was blank as you stared at each other, and as you opened your mouth to say something, he cut you off.

"Dinner's ready." Sanji announced shortly, setting down the plate in front of Luffy and then walked away without saying another word.

That was your final straw. You immediately put down your guitar and followed him into the kitchen. You didn't care about how you felt Nami's watchful eyes on you as you went after him, nor how Luffy was scarfing down the dinner and was definitely going to finish it all before you could take a bite; you just chased the blond with determination oozing out of you.

You roughly pushed the door open and found Sanji washing the pans he used for cooking. He glanced at you briefly then quickly looked away after. This irritated you even more as you demanded, "Is there something bothering you?"

"You should eat before the food gets cold." He said with an empty voice.

"Sanji!"

He stiffened. You rarely raised your voice at anyone. Sighing in defeat, he dried off his hands and fully faced you.

Your eyes were sharper than his knives, cutting straight into his soul. "I've known you for a long time now, do you think I don't notice whenever you have a problem?" You glowered, taking a step closer to him, "You have a problem. What is it?"

It happened fast. His hand landed on the small of your back and pulled you to his chest, and the other was placed on top of your cheek, and in a single motion, Sanji captured your lips with his. You gasped in the kiss, your heart dropping to the soles of your feet when he tilted his face to deepen it. Your fingers tightly grasped the sleeves of his shirt for support as he passionately moved his lips against yours. A pleasant heat ran down your spine, your whole body tingling and warming up. You were simply drowning. There was no other way to describe it, and it was only caused by his fervent kisses.

Sanji pulled away, resting your forehead on top of yours, and you took it as an opportunity to breathe in air that you lost. "You are the problem." He murmured lowly, eyes darting down to your swollen lips. Confused and lightheaded, you didn't get the chance to retort.

"Ever since that night, ange, you occupy my thoughts. You gave me a taste of your lips and you didn't even remember the next day. Do you know how that feels, hm?" He said, pecking your lips once again. You made a noise in the back of your throat, turning your head sideways so he couldn't kiss you anymore, but he took your chin and hungrily connected both of your lips.

He spoke between kisses, "You torture me. Ever since I read those songs you wrote about me in that little notebook of yours, you torture me with your presence."

That was when you snapped out of your daze. With all the force you could muster, you placed your hands on his chest and pushed him away. Sanji stepped back, surprised at your reaction.

Without giving him a chance to ask you anything, you ran off and left the kitchen, slamming the door loudly so you wouldn't hear him calling your name and be tempted to go back in his arms again.

You arrived in the sleeping quarters, locking the door behind you. You were sure that the others would understand you needing your alone time. Once you made sure you were on your own, your body collapsed altogether, your back sliding down against the door as you panted heavily.

He knows, was all you could think about. He knows about the songs. He knows about your feelings.

Well, you finally got your answer to your previous question, but a more complicated one replaced it. With trembling hands, your fingers raised themselves to your lips, touching its surface. You hated the way that you still felt his warmth on top of them.

A lone tear slid down the side of your nose. He was cruel. Sanji was cruel.

You didn't come out of that room for days, refusing to talk to anyone as you gathered your scrambled throughts and pulled yourself back together, and that was the fourth time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.

⸻ • ⸻

A stack of books, most of them being a collection of maps compiled in one, rested beside you while you flipped through the pages of the one you chose among them.

Nami has been lending you her books ever since you shut yourself out from the crew. You ignored all of them and only let Nami in, hoping that she'll be able to understand you; and she did. She was a good listener. Although you weren't particularly close with each other, you trusted her and told her everything: your dreams, your problems, your feelings, and Sanji. In return, she confided in you too.

"Here. So you can finally decide on where you will go to," You recall her saying while she handed you her collection of world map books, "and to distract yourself, of course."

"You're too kind, Nami." You said in admiration. Maybe this is why Sanji was enamored with her. She was a beauty inside and out.

Nami shrugged, yet she was smiling. "Just helping a fellow woman out."

The books did take your mind off the stubborn blond haired man that was still resting inside your heart, even if it was only for a fleeting moment. You tried to search for islands that will be suitable for you to start your career, narrowing some of them down into choices, but your eyes wil always lead back to where the Baratie was stationed.

You leaned back against your chair, letting your head hit the wall with a soft thud as you released a sigh of frustration. Not only will you need to prepare yourself for a journey all alone, but you also have to talk to Sanji sooner or later, whether you like it or not. The kiss distracted you more than the books Nami gave you. You think of it in the morning and dream of it at night, and it only got worse every time you remembered that he kissed you like he loved you.

Relaxing in your seat, you closed the book and listened to the silence.

The Going Merry docked for a quick trip to a market to gather fresh ingredients for food. Sanji will be gone for the meantime and you were free to roam around the ship without his heated stare boring holes in your skin.

But the peace was ruined by rushed footsteps and Usopp breaking into the room, almost destroying the door with his brute force. You frowned, standing up on alert when you saw how nervous he looked.

"Sanji's injured!" He exclaimed, which got your brow raising, knowing that he had a long history of lying to people. However, he forcibly pulled Sanji inside, and you were greeted by the sight of a bruised man, whose lips were bleeding and cheeks were starting to yellow.

You immediately sprang into action. You took the first aid kit you packed in your bag and grabbed his arm, making him sit down on your chair.

"How did you get into a fight in just a span of ten minutes?" You asked in irritation, wetting a cloth with saltwater to wipe off the blood on his lips.

Sanji grunted, tensing up when you took a hold of his face and dabbed on his lip using the cloth. "Some petty vendor was selling overpriced onions, and they weren't even the best of quality."

You stopped for a minute, glaring at him. "So you decided to punch them instead of talking it over?"

He only huffed in reply. Pursing your lips in annoyance, you continued to treat his wounds in silence, noticing him flinching and wincing in pain whenever you compress the bruised area with ice. "Who's being petty now?" You scolded impatiently, "Stay still."

The only sound that filled the room was you hastily rummaging your kit trying to find an ointment and an awkward silence that made you want to jump into the sea and never swim back to the surface. You unscrewed the lid of the jar of ointment and scooped some with your finger, looking at Sanji as you did so. He looked back at you quietly, and you tried hard not to think about the fact that you have to touch his lips in order for you to apply it.

It seemed like he realized that too, glancing down at the dollop of ointment on top of your finger, then back to you. You just gave him a small, uneasy smile, showing him that you weren't uncomfortable even though you were, and shyly took a step forward.

As gently as you could, you spread the ointment on the wounded area on his lips, reminding yourself to not be distracted on how soft they looked.

"A busted lip because of overpriced ingredients...it almost feels like you're doing this on purpose so I wouldn't get the chance to leave you." You half-heartedly joked to lighten up the atmosphere. However, you were greeted by nothing, not even a smart comeback or a funny joke from the blond. You hesitantly observed his reaction, and saw that he was grim and serious, guilt swimming in his beryl blue eyes.

The realization began to sink in.

Oh.

You should've known from the start. Sanji was a great fighter; he wouldn't be injured in the first place. "Sanji..."

Sanji took your wrist and held on it tightly. Your breath hitched, only then realizing how much you missed his touch, his warm, gentle, and loving touch.

"Let me go." You weakly said, even though deep down, you didn't want him to.

"Tell me you're not in love with me." He said, sounding utterly desperate that it almost made you fall down to your knees, "Tell me, and I'll let you go."

When you didn't answer, he stood up and cupped your cheeks with both of his hands. He pleaded, "Look at me. Look into my eyes and tell me you don't love me."

"Please don't do this." You whispered in pain as you tearfully shook your head.

"Stay. Please, stay." Sanji begged, pressing his forehead against yours, "What can I do to make you stay? Tell me. I'll do anything. Do I need to kneel? To beg for your forgiveness? Tell me what you want. I'll do anything in my power to make you the happiest woman in all of East Blue. Just please, don't leave."

"I can't." You answered, closing your eyes, a few tears streaming down your cheeks. You hate the way he was making this so hard for you.

He only continued, "Hate me, curse me, shout at me, if you must. Anything but you leaving me. Or do you want to make me yours? Then I am letting you. Whatever you want, mon ange—my heart, my soul, my attention, they're all yours. I'm all yours."

"No..."

"The crew will be incomplete without you." Sanji insisted in anguish.

"I have dreams, Sanji. Just like you and the rest of the crew." You explained softly, placing your own hands on top of his in attempt to comfort him and relieve him from his confusion.

However, he was persistent, "You can achieve your dreams without leaving. You can stay, and I will support you in everything you do. You're better off staying with me—with us."

You said firmly, "I will not spend the rest of my life doing what I don't want."

"Even with me by your side?"

A few second pass before you finally reply, "I'd be miserable."

Pain flashed on his face, making you want to take back your own words, yet you remained strong and unyielding. Sanji took a deep breath and stepped away from you, saying, "I'd rather have you miserable here than go out there and encounter ruthless pirates."

The statement quickly irritated you, frowning at him deeply. "You think I'll have problems with pirates when I've been serving them for years?"

"Oh, darling, you wouldn't be able to say that once you've encountered worse ones, with bounties higher than you could ever imagine." He snapped, voice raising with each word.

"I can manage on my own!" You bit back frustratingly, your tears evaporating into anger.

Sanji scowled at you, impatiently running his fingers through his hair. "You can't fight!" He shouted, voice breaking in the process, and with it, your heart too. It shattered like glass and the shards landed and pierced through your lungs, rendering you breathless. Your eyes widened, mouth dropping open in shock.

Seeing your expression, he immediately snapped back to reality, regret writing itself on his face. You shook your head in disbelief and let out a humorless laugh, "Are you telling me that I'm weak?"

"I didn't say that." Sanji quickly said in a hushed manner.

"But you're implying it!" You choked, still can't believe that he doesn't trust you. He doesn't trust you enough to accomplish your dreams on your own, and that he was not confident that you'll succeed without him by your side.

You wanted to ask him about the passionate kiss you two shared, about his loving gestures that confused the hell out of you, about his fresh bruises that he received on purpose so that he can get you to stay, and why he did all of that. You needed confirmation. But the question that left you was, "What am I to you?"

Sanji stayed quiet, and your heart broke again once more. Deciding that this was the last time he breaks it, you walked away and left him alone to tend to his own injuries.

He lit up a cigarette as he listened to your fading footsteps. A single teardrop fell down from his eye the moment he placed the cigarette between his lips, and all he could think about was that you hurt more than the bruises on his cheeks.

You packed your bags and spoke with Nami, telling her that you were ready, and that was the fifth time you tried to leave Sanji Vinsmoke—and tomorrow, you'll finally succeed.

⸻ • ⸻

The sun had just risen, and the early morning breeze smelled of the ocean, the calming sound of waves filling your ears. It was one of those days when the sky was clear and the sunlight wasn't harsh but pleasantly warm on your skin, making it the perfect day to start working on a new song and strum on your guitar for the melody.

But today was different. You were standing on the first step of the ship's staircase that leads to a docking station and a wooden walkway towards an unfamiliar island that was soon to be your new home. Your fingers clenched on the strap of your bag, finding this moment to be surreal. You have tried many times to leave, and here it was, right on the palms of your hands.

"So. This is it, huh?" Your trance broke as Nami commented beside you. She was the only one to bid you farewell and watch you leave, since the others were still asleep. You thought of Sanji and how he looked like when he was sleeping, staring at his handsome features so you can memorize them and implant it in your mind. He was your first love; you didn't want to forget him.

You smiled. "Thank you, Nami." You said earnestly, "I would've liked to spend more time with you. It's tiring to speak to men sometimes, don't you think?"

She laughed. "Yeah." Then, she caged you in her arms and hugged you tightly, surprising you for a second before you laughed too and returned the hug. "Stay safe out there."

"I will."

"So you planned to leave? Without saying goodbye?" A new voice interrupted, breaking the hug you and Nami both shared. You swiveled to look behind you, and there stood Sanji, appearing to have just woken up, with the strands of his blond hair sticking up in different directions. You observed his dejected expression, the downward tilt of the corners of his lips, and the glistening of his tired eyes. You stared at his crumpled suit and his crooked necktie. Despite how messy he looked, he will always be perfect to you.

You walked forward and looked at him fondly, with your eyes full of so much love reserved for him and him only. "Thought it would hurt less." You said, raising your hands to touch his hair and brush it down, "And I was right. How can I leave now when you're standing in front of me?"

He sighed shakily as he felt your soft fingers threading through his hair. "Then don't." He whispered. You only smiled at him. He didn't smile back, but that didn't stop you from taking both of his hands and caressing his knuckles using your thumb.

"Every night, I'll look at the moon and think of you. I'll tell my stories, sing my songs, and whisper my secrets to it. Just like what you and me would do when we were little." You told him softly and endearingly, "Would you be so kind as to look at the moon too and think of me?"

Sanji's eyebrows were scrunched together in agony, muttering, "I can't make you stay, can I?"

When you didn't answer, he just nodded his head, understanding what you wanted to stay. He forced a smile and tightly squeezed your hands. "I'm sorry."

"I'm yours." You answered, placing a soft kiss on the back of his hands. After letting your lips linger on his skin for a while, you slowly let go, and with one last glance at his face, you stepped back and made your way downstairs to the docking area, leaving before you could change your mind.

Sanji watched you go. While you walked away from the Going Merry, from the crew, and from him, not once did you look back. He just watched as you went farther away and became smaller in the distance, until you blended in with the crowd and you were just another person in a sea of people. And then you were gone.

It was the sixth time you tried to leave Sanji Vinsmoke, and this time, you finally did.

⸻ • ⸻

The red velvet curtains began to draw in front of you, gently falling back down on the stage as you said your final good-byes to your audience for tonight, a bouquet of roses cradled in your arms while you blew delicate kisses towards them. You can still hear their loud cheering and clapping even as you retreated to your personal room backstage.

A middle-aged woman greeted you inside when you stepped in the room and closed the door behind you, whistling. "There she is, our talented rising star!"

You only laughed at the silly nickname, setting the bouquet of roses that one of the people gave you in tonight's show on top of your vanity table. "You exaggerate, Madam. I have only performed two shows in your beautiful theater."

The madam, who was the owner of the theater you were currently working in, shook her head in disagreement. "And those two shows are sold out!" She informed you proudly, placing her hands on your shoulders, "Let me know if you want to add more, you are welcome to perform here anytime."

"I'll think about it." You replied, smiling. The madam patted your shoulder twice before she left you alone, humming happily to herself. You huffed in amusement, fully aware that she doesn't appreciate your talents at all, but only cared for the money.

Regardless of that, you were happy. It has been a couple of years since you left the Strawhat Pirates and pursued your dreams all on your own, and you've been traveling to different islands across the seas to perform. You never had a permanent home; being a musician meant going to many places from time to time to share and spread out your music.

Yet you can't help but miss life on the sea.

You missed washing dishes on the Baratie and the late night conversations you had with Zeff. You missed Luffy and his weird antics, Usopp and his jokes, Zoro and his blunt comments, and Nami and her kindness.

You missed Sanji and everything that he was.

You stared at your reflection in the vanity mirror on your desk. Your hair was pinned neatly, you had make-up on and you were dressed fancily for your performance. Years ago, you wouldn't look like this. It was hard to believe how much you've grown and changed, but these days, you felt like you wanted your old self back. Slowly, you took the itchy pins off your hair, and cleaned your face with warm water and a cloth. You replaced your dress in a more comfortable one and went outside.

Looking up at the night sky, you saw a bright full moon with no stars in sight. It was just the moon and its beauty, illuminating the pitch black sky with its glow. You silently watched it, a smile growing on your lips as you felt a tug on your heart.

"I wonder what you're up to, Sanji." You thought aloud, cheeks heating up at the memory of your first love and his golden hair and his contagious smiles. Then, to your surprise, a voice spoke unexpectedly.

"Well, I am fortuitous to have met such a beautiful angel."

You froze. No one referred to you as angel except for one.

Sanji.

As you turned around, he was already walking towards you. And there you both were, bathing under the moonlight, with him grinning at you mischievously and you looking at him lovingly.  You didn't know how he found you, but what mattered was that he searched for you and now he was here, and he was still making your heart beat fast in your chest just like all those years ago.

How the pesky feelings stayed and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. But maybe it was because he was standing in front of you, and the way his next words made you run into his open arms and kiss him until you were both breathless,

"There you are, ange."

taglist part 1 @angel-luv3r @appalost @chexmixtrys @nimtano @sparklyphantom @natalieisfreeziing @reallysparklychaos @maydaylovex @johnnysactualgf @mochamei @kisumisumi @ttokyocat @mypurplewinee @rosaliinnn @nonniecannie @court-jester-stuff @detectivelucy07 @megumiif @untitledandrandom @erin-the-king @fangeekkk @nikolaevna-art @candesstuff @chaoticevilbakugo

[mountainsandmayhem]

BDSMaid - Chapter 1

Masterlist || AO3

Pairing: Millionaire Joel Miller x Female Reader Rating: 18+ Chapter Summary: To save money for law school, you accept a job at Maid Discretely; a high end, anonymous cleaning service. You aren’t supposed to know whose home you’re cleaning, but your curiosity is peaked by your first client, and when the two of you have a shocking and surprising run in, more than just your curiosity peaks.  CW: Author chooses not to use warnings in this chapter in order to avoid spoilers. While I never want to trigger anyone, you are solely responsible for the content you consume. AN: Oh boy, here we go! I'm in a straight PANIC getting ready to post this. I hope it meets all your expectations, I was not at all expecting that reaction to the teaser post. Love you all and thank you for all your support. Please share or comment, I have a praise kink LOL. Follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates and turn on notifications for future chapters. Dividers and support banners by @saradika-graphics. Thank you @mermaidgirl30, @littlevenicebitch69, @joelmillerisapunk and @burntheedges for being my little cheerleaders over this, ily!! Chapter Word Count: 4.4k

You stare down at the very intimidating legal document you have clasped in your clammy hands. There are so many big legal sounding words that seem to be mocking you with their importance. Somehow there are clauses that have sub clauses that are then further broken down into sub-subclauses. It feels heavy to be handed this on a Monday morning. Truthfully, this doesn’t seem like something a soon-to-be twenty-one year old woman who literally just graduated college, albeit a semester early, should be allowed to sign without parents and a lawyer present. 

This is just supposed to be a simple job working part time as a maid for your best friend's family’s cleaning company. A job where she promised easy money and part time hours that you set for yourself. The perfect opportunity for you to be able to save money AND set aside lots of study time for your upcoming LSAT rewrite. You passed it a few months ago and applied to a bunch of law schools, but you aren’t going to waste these next few months waiting around. You know how competitive law schools can be, so you’re preparing to be better just in case you don’t get in.

Your eyes scan words that your brain can’t seem to comprehend. The internal panic starts to bubble in your chest, someone who has law aspirations should know what these words mean.

This is just supposed to be easy. Cleaning. Vacuuming. Washing floors. Simple things. 

But now, as you sit in this shiny, fancy downtown office building looking at your full legal name typed beside a bunch of ‘initial here’ and ‘sign here’ lines on a nondisclosure agreement you’re starting to feel like this is anything but simple. 

“Our clientele is VERY exclusive,” your childhood best friend Jamie says. She looks very professional and grown up sitting behind her glass desk. Her long, toned legs are crossed, the slit along the side of her crisp, white pencil skirt showing off her tanned upper thigh. She’s paired her white skirt with a baby pink silky blouse that's perfectly tucked into the high waist of the skirt. Her long, dark silky hair is twisted into a jeweled claw clip. Even though you’re the same age she has an air of sophistication and grace, even with winged eyeliner, a matte pink lip, and a slender rose gold septum ring that sits tight to her little button nose. She almost screams old Hollywood in the middle of Austin, Texas. 

She continues, “You won’t know the names of the clients and they will never be home. If they do come home, leave immediately, and try your best not to be seen or heard. Then you can fill out in the company app what you did and didn’t manage to get done.” 

You put the paper down on her perfect desk so she can’t see your hands shaking. How can you work at that desk all day and not get a single fingerprint or smudge on it? There’s a very good chance that I am not cut out for this. This is fancy. And expensive. I’m neither of those things. 

“What am I gonna be walking in on at these houses, Jamie?” You ask, swallowing the fiberglass that’s suddenly prickling at your throat. 

Jamie shakes her head and laughs, saying your name through her melodic giggles. “Most likely nothing. We’ve never had an encounter or run in with a client. They pick times for cleaners to come when they aren’t home.” She leans back in her high backed chair and continues, “But the clients are big deals. Politicians. Judges. Athletes. The odd celebrity. They don’t want anyone in their home that will snoop or snap pictures. Hence the NDA.” 

“Well, why didn’t you start with that!” You laugh. “Jesus, I thought I’d be walking into like a virginal sacrifice or some shit!” 

“Well, there was that one time…” Your face drops and she immediately starts laughing again. “I’m kidding. Relax. Look, you’ll probably get three homes a week, each house will take six to eight hours. The hourly pay is twenty dollars plus whatever tip they’ll leave you in these black envelopes.” 

She puts a perfectly polished finger on a stack of black envelopes with a red ‘Maid Discretely’ logo on it and continues, “In my experience, the tips are around five hundred, completely tax free. This is a good gig! You’ll be in law school becoming smarter than all of us in no time. Fuck, you’ll be writing insane contracts like those before we know it.” 

She stands, one hand resting on the desk while the other slides the paper towards you with a closed pen. She drops the writing apparatus on top of it, the metal casing of the pen clanging loudly on her glass desk. You let out an exasperated sigh, dramatically clicking the pen before signing the NDA. Jamie claps her hands excitedly then snatches the contract away before you can rip it up and says, “Let’s get your uniform and supplies!”

She hands you a few fitted white polo style t-shirts, black dress pants, white Keds (that she scolds are for inside the houses only), a caddy full of high end cleaning supplies, a top of the line Dyson vacuum and everything else you’ll need.

She ends your meeting with instructions on how the company's scheduling and tracking app works. "Essentially, you set the days and times you’re available and it will populate for you. You’ll have addresses, dates and times, as well as tasks to be done, all nicely laid out for you. If a client likes you, they can request you for additional shifts, but for continuity purposes you should get the same couple houses that you’ll rotate through throughout the month."

You nod along, mostly surprised to hear the girl who did a keg stand just a few days ago sound so professional, using words like 'continuity purposes'.

The next day you have your first official shift. Tuesday from nine to three and you’re scheduled at a mansion in a neighborhood you’ve never heard of and you most definitely wouldn’t fit in to. Jamie is already waiting there for you when you pull up. She explained yesterday that she’d help you with the first one and then you are on your own after that. Well, not completely alone. Your iPhone is loaded full of smutty audio books, murder podcasts, and law books to listen to as you clean. 

Jamie was right, you think to yourself as you scroll to the latest romance novel you’ve downloaded and grab your AirPods, this is a good gig.

The house is absolutely massive, and you highly doubt you’ll be done in six hours. You gather all your stuff and head up to the house. Jamie shows you where the company supplied key box is and how to open it from the app. As you grab the key Jamie excitedly says, “This used to be my client. He always leaves a huge tip!”

You unlock the large front glass door and enter into a white marble foyer. The windows on the first floor are easily ten feet tall and allow in so much natural light. Gold and obsidian swirls in the marble reflect along the walls, dancing in the sunlight. To the left of the front door is a large open kitchen that might be bigger than your entire apartment. The marble of the expansive countertop is the same colour as the foyer. All the cabinetry is matte black with brushed gold handles. The kitchen opens into a lavish living room, a massive fireplace and TV sits on the far back left wall, encompassed by a very cozy looking white sectional. 

To the right of the front door, starting furthest away from where you stand in awe, is a door to a huge half bathroom, followed by a long table with a bowl for keys and mail, and then the door that leads to the garage. About fifty feet in front of you is a grand staircase that branches out to the left and right. Beyond the staircase you can see into the backyard. This is by far the nicest house you’ve ever been in.

As both you and Jamie slip into your keds she says, “Upstairs to the left are a few bedrooms and the office. I usually started there and then went to the right side where he has a huge entertainment area. Then I would clean down here since he doesn’t cook very often and it’s usually just a quick wipe down.”

Just as you start to panic over how you’re supposed to remember all this she nudges you and adds, “But that’s all in the app for you, most of the clients are very particular so they’ll lay out exactly what order you should be cleaning in, as well as any other extra things they need done.” 

She helps you carry all your stuff upstairs and then watches you work. Sure enough, the app says to start in the office so you do just that. Careful not to disturb the few piles of paperwork you dust the desk and shelves and then wipe down the windows and computer screen. You vacuum the hardwood and plush rug last and after Jamie gives you an approving nod, you move onto the next room.

You continue like that, going from room to room, your friend, and now boss, occasionally giving feedback or leaving to answer a phone call or respond to an email. The job is easy enough; repeating the same steps in each room over and over again. It’s the exact type of work you exceed at. You enjoy having clear sets of instructions and expectations, and a prioritized list where you can start at the top and work down. You’ve always excelled at following meticulous directions in school. Your life maybe not so much. When it comes to dating or your parents you aren’t one to do what you’re told.

When one o’clock rolls around you just have one bathroom upstairs and the already pristine downstairs to tend to, but Jamie coaxes you into taking your break, which is another thing you’re bad at. You were raised not to take breaks, taking a break or doing nothing means you're lazy. You should be working all the time, and pushing yourself to accomplish things. As a child you’d push and push yourself to be the best, honor roll ceremonies were the only time your dad would show up. He’d smile and brag about you to whoever was around.

“It’s important that you take all your supplies to your car with you when you eat your lunch. Never eat in their homes and never park on their driveways.” You nod and hoist all your stuff to the front step. “Make sure you lock up like you’re leaving too.” 

“How am I doing so far?” You ask as you lock the door, your stomach growling loudly as if it needs to prove to her how hard you’re working. You hadn’t realized how much of an appetite you’d gain just from cleaning. The few stale crackers and small can of tuna you managed to find in your cupboard this morning doesn’t seem like it’s going to be enough. 

“Really well! I actually think I might leave you to finish up. Don’t forget to take whatever he left for you out of the black envelope on the kitchen counter.” She doesn’t look up at you, her fingers tapping out an email on her shiny iphone screen. She doesn’t have her phone in a case and you can only imagine the level of self confidence you have to have to carry around an expensive item unprotected like that.

“Is it weird that there’s no pictures or anything of the family that lives here?” You say curiously as you both walk towards your parked vehicles. 

“No,” she says flatly. “I think it’s just one person here and that’s pretty normal for the houses you’ll be cleaning. Lots of them are rarely home or only home to sleep.” 

You gawk at the massive house from across the street as you throw all your supplies in the back of your used and rusted SUV. One person lives here. Alone. How is this possible? He’s clearly doing well for himself. Either he’s really lonely or a complete asshole. 

After you eat, you head back inside to finish up cleaning. The entire house looks like a show home. Not a single thing out of place. The kitchen seems staged, void of life aside from a tiny droplet of coffee on the countertop beside the Italian coffee maker, and a tiny brown stegosaurus toy that sits on top of it. Two minutes before the end of your shift you do a final sweep to make sure you haven’t left anything behind and then slip open the black envelope. Inside you find seven one hundred dollars and a note that just says ‘TY - JM’.

As you log your day in the company app you can’t believe you just made seven hundred freaking dollars to clean up after a man who makes no messes. You excitedly check your upcoming schedule and it looks like you’ll be back here in two more weeks. You could potentially be getting fourteen hundred dollars a month from this elusive “JM”. A man with no pictures or personal touches in his shiny white, black and gold mansion.

It’s been almost two weeks since your first clean at JM’s house. Your other clients were good tippers, usually between four to five hundred, but you’ve been looking forward to going back. You know you’re not supposed to know who the clients are, but you couldn’t help but google JM to try to figure out who he is and how he has so much money. In hindsight, you guess all your clients have money, but something about him has alerted your curiosity. He seems like smoke, or a ghost, in his own home. Your other clients had some sort of semblance of life in their houses. A dent in the pillow. An open newspaper on the kitchen table. A coffee cup dropped in the sink before they headed off to whatever fancy job they have to afford such a massive house. A toilet seat left up or a smudge of toothpaste on the mirror. 

But not JM. 

No, the only thing JM left was a tiny droplet of coffee. Coffee that was probably imported straight from Italy. You’re almost ashamed of the amount of times you’ve wondered about that stegosaurus toy. It seems so out of place in his house of clean lines and sterility. 

You’re just settling in to enjoy a Sunday night of sushi, rosé and Bridgerton with your roommate when your phone bings, a little red notification bubble popping up on the Maid Discretely app. You have an added shift request for JM tomorrow. Instead of one six hour shift on Tuesday you now have two six hour shifts. You accept the request and scroll through the tasks. He’s requested you to wipe the baseboards and lightswitches on the main floor, a deep scrub of every bathroom, as well as doing the inside of the fridge, stove and microwave. There are also instructions for washing the sheets in the main bedroom, and spraying down the patio furniture around the pool.

Only a millionaire in Texas would ask for his pool furniture to be cleaned in February. 

Shortly after you accept the shift you get a text from Jamie:

Saw you accepted the shift. The client asked for the normal clean on the first day, please. Extras the next day. Thanks.

The following morning you head to the large, bright mansion. Parking across the street and hauling all your stuff in. It feels a bit weird to be here on a Monday and you have a feeling you’ll be reminding yourself all day that it is indeed Monday and not Tuesday.

You get all your stuff together, change into your indoor company issued keds and head up the stairs. The pink and orange hues of the sunrise glitters off the white marble tiles, glints of gold and sparkling black reflecting off of it. You take a second to look down from the landing as you pop in your airpods. It really is a beautiful home, and it’s too bad that whoever lives here is either lonely or an asshole, but for a split second you let yourself pretend that you and JM just finished making love and he’s now in the kitchen making you an espresso or a latte with that insanely fancy coffee machine in the kitchen. You shake your head at yourself. You didn’t find anything when googling, which isn’t surprising since two letters aren’t much to go on, but this house seems to draw you in, like it’s calling to you. It’s strange, it’s almost like you have a crush on this house and you couldn’t help but make a whole persona for whoever lives here. Even with its clean lines and lack of life, something about it settles in your gut, it feels like home. 

You scroll your podcast app trying to pick what episode you want to listen to and head down the hall, you can’t seem to decide so you pocket your phone without starting anything and reach for the matte black handle of the office door. You’re expecting to see JM’s tidy office with a few stacks of paperwork in one corner, but the sight you find before you has all the blood rush from your head and your stomach dropping right out of your body. Your jaw drops and you freeze in utter shock and fear.  

Instead of the usual stacks of paper, there’s an icy blond haired woman tied to the desk. She’s completely naked and on her back with her legs spread wide. Her ankles are tied to the legs of the desk with a scratchy looking rope, her wrists wrapped in matching rope and resting above her head. Her nipples are almost purple underneath the clothespin attached to them. You freeze, just the lewd wet noises of her pussy being worked furiously by the mysterious, fully clothed JM. His deep, commanding, gravel filled voice reverberates through the office. “Little fuckin' slut. Gonna split you in two.”

The woman lets out an unashamed cry of pleasure. Your entire body seems to go numb as your caddy falls from your hand, crashing loudly against the hardwood flooring. His head whips to the side, the icy blonde woman letting out a scream and trying to cover herself up. Your hands cover your mouth and even though you can’t feel your legs you spin and run for the stairs.

“Fuck. Fuck. Wait,” JM calls after you.

One of your AirPods falls from your ear as you run, you’re tempted to stop and grab it but you need to get out of here. Jamie’s voice echoes through your skull, ‘try your hardest not to be seen or heard’. 

He catches up to you as you reach the front entryway, his strong hand pushing the door closed. You can feel the heat of his body against your back. You’re shaking - both from being terrified and embarrassed. You have so many thoughts running through your mind. This will get you fired, or worse, you could have just possibly lost the company a client. Fuck. You aren’t supposed to know who lives here and you certainly aren’t supposed to see them doing that. 

“Please wait,” he says softly behind you and the heat of his broad body sends a chill down your spine.

The blood is rushing through your ears as your heart pounds in your throat. You don’t like confrontation and even with the softness in his voice, you’re sure he’s about to scream at you. You feel sick, and when you replay the words he said to the woman upstairs, and the sound of her moan that made you drop your caddy you start to feel dizzy and nervous.

Your hand falls from the handle of the front door and the brick wall of a man behind you steps back. You spin slowly to face him but keep your eyes on the floor. 

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, linking your fingers in front of you and focusing all your attention on the cuticle of your right thumb.

“No, please. This is my fault.” You trail your eyes from the floor to him. He's in perfectly pressed black dress pants paired with a white dress shirt. The sleeves are rolled to his forearms and he’s holding his hands up in front of himself as if to show you he isn’t armed or as a way to say 'you’re safe here'. 

You flick your eyes up to his face and he’s looking at you softly, the morning sunrise lighting up his tanned face and salt and pepper hair. JM is probably twice your age, but he is incredibly handsome. 

“I am so sorry. I must’a got my days mixed up when I booked you.” He says, a soft southern accent sneaking out. 

“I’m going to get fired,” you respond shakily.

“No,” he says stepping forward, you subsequently take a step back, pressing your body against the glass front door. Something about this man makes you nervous, but not in the same way women are trained to be nervous of strange men that are almost twice their size. “No. This is my fault. Please, let me explain. I jus’ gotta - well, can I go deal with…” his head cocks towards the stairs, “And then let me explain. Please?” 

You look at him, his handsome face all soft and apologetic. His dark brown and amber eyes dance around your face and without realizing you're even doing it, you nod your head. 

“Thank you,” he drops his hands at his side, visibly relaxing at your decision not to run. “Sit at the island for me. I’ll be back.” 

He watches you as you pad over to the island. The tall bar chair squeaks on the tile floor as you pull it out. He peels his eyes from you and heads upstairs. When you sit you have to stop from moaning out, the pressure of your body weight there sends a wave of rolling pleasure through you.

What the fuck? 

It’s a dull, throbbing ache followed by a small gush of thick wetness. Did you mistake a feeling of arousal for dizziness and nervousness upstairs? Were you turned on by what you just witnessed? 

Certainly not. There’s no way! He was, well, he wasn’t being nice to that woman. 

Soon you hear footsteps coming down the stairs and towards the foyer, his body blocks her from your view as they talk at the front door. They speak in hushed voices, all you’re able to make out is her saying thank you followed by the sound of a soft kiss and then she’s gone. 

She thanked him? It seems like he should be thanking her. 

He wanders into the kitchen and your throat goes impossibly dry. As if he can read your every need, he grabs a glass from the cabinet, puts it under the water dispenser on his fridge door and then slides the glass across the large island to you. You have to lift off the chair to reach it, whispering a thank you before taking a sip. 

JM leans against the countertop beside the fridge and watches you take a long drink. You put the glass down with a quiet clink and then fold your hands in your lap. His eye contact is intense, not in a creepy way, it’s almost like he’s assessing you. You find it hard to look at him so you avert your gaze to the glass. 

He clears his throat gently before he starts. “I jus’ want to say how sorry I am. You didn’t consent to seein’ any of that and I can’t imagine how awful that was for you.” His voice is so calm and soft. 

You flick your eyes up to him, “No, this is my fault. I am not suppose-“

JM shakes his head and holds up one hand, signaling you to stop. “No. This was me. I got my days mixed up. Meant to book ya for next week. This ain’t on you. This was my mistake. If it’s ok for me to ask, what’s your name?” 

You mumble your name into your glass and down the rest of your water. You figure you’re probably fired either way so who cares if he knows who you are. His face ticks up slightly, almost like he’s proud of you for drinking, and says your name back to you. 

“I ain’t gonna say anythin’ to your boss and I understand if you want to leave for the day. I’ll pay ya either way. I also understand if you say somethin’ to them and I can’t be a client anymore. It was unacceptable for me to be doin’ that when you’re supposed to be here. There ain’t any other way to word it. I was inappropriate and wrong.” He steps forward and holds his hand out so you slide the glass across to him. 

He refills it and puts it back for you to grab. “No,” you say, your voice cracking. After clearing your throat you continue, “No, I appreciate your apology but I’m not going to say anything.” 

He watches you again as you drain the glass, the same look of pride flashes across his eyes, “I’ll - umm - I’ll be in my office. You can uh,” he runs a hand through his scruff, “You just do whatever you need. I’ll stay outta your way.” 

He disappears before you can say anything else. You head up the stairs after a few minutes to find your cleaning caddy sitting in the hall with everything placed neatly where it belongs. His office door is closed and you can hear the deep rumble of his voice while he’s on a call. You grab your things, head into the master bedroom and begin cleaning. 

A few hours later while you’re sitting in your car eating lunch, the garage door opens and JM goes whipping past you in the sexiest blacked out sports car you’ve ever seen. He doesn’t even look over you as he speeds by. Your heart sinks, it's unexplainable but being in that house with him there, even after what you witnessed, felt more comfortable than being alone. JM must have some sort of magic touch, how you went from nervous and embarrassed to calm and comforted with just the look on his face and few words is beyond you.

After wiping down the kitchen you are all done for the day. You grab the black and red envelope off the kitchen counter and open it, peering in nervously. There’s a piece of matte black paper on top. You slide it out gently, the paper feels expensive between your fingers. As you unfold it you reveal a shiny black JMK logo at the top. In neat gold lettering is his writing.

‘Please know how sorry I am. Your consent is more important than anything. I broke that. Just hope I didn't break your trust. -Joel Miller.’

At the bottom of the envelope are ten crisp one hundred dollar bills. 

Next Chapter

[visacardteamloverrr]

ex's or not? cs55

summary: y/n and carlos once were the it couple, how are their lives after the breakup? did everyone move on?

warnings: writing this i was sick, i was done and i was ready to delete so enjoyy

i also was supposed to write part 2 to i'll be waiting but oh well...

y/njazzy

liked by lilymunihe, carmenmundt, and 65 000 more

y/njazzy Prague you've been great, next up my beloved Vienna 🍒

comments

y/nstan mother is GLOWING

lilymunihe music to my ears (literally) 🫶🫶

y/njazzy i'm blushing 😊 💋

alexandrasaintmleux i haven't heard you play for agesss, see you in Vienna ig

y/njazzy and whose fault it is?? clearly not mine missy

alexandrasaintmleux oh look at the time, i have to go !!!

chillis the post breakup glow up is reaaal

loverofy/n can we expect some album soon queen?

charlesleclerc exactly @/y/njazzy, care to share with the class???

y/njazzy i will not confirm nor deny

y/njazzy and lord perceval do not push my limits. besides, if you would honour me with your presence, you would know. the choice is yours

charlesleclerc no comment.

user1 she calls him the way that carlos does...

jazzychill she looks so hot in red 🔥

chillistan don't you find it weird that after all charles is in her comments?

y/nfan through all the years y/n was with carlos, she formed a friendship with charles (especially with carlos in ferrari) and other people from the paddock, so it's nothing weird

jazzlover besides, alex and y/n are besties, no?

y/nlos do you remember how carlos would always melt when y/n wear red??? because i do.

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, charlesleclerc, y/njazzy, and 2,093,728 more

carlossainz55 🌶🍔☀️

comments

soylago ON MY KNEEEES

charlosfan what do they feed our drivers, he and charles are soooo hot

chillis the second photo, two plates, carlos sainz is that a date?

landonorris and where are pics from our little golf tournament 🤔🤔🤔 oh, maybe they aren't here because YOU LOST AHAHAHAHHA

carlossainz55 cabron we all know you cheated.

landonorris what a sore loser we have here

charlesleclerc do you remember when we played uno once?

maxverstappen i wonder why you played uno only once

charlesleclerc lando almost lost an eye

landonorris I ALMOST DIED, HE TRIED TO KILL ME

carlossainz55 do NOT listen to them, those situations did not happen

carlossteponme Y/N LIKED???!!

y/nfan they actually still like eachothers posts, i believe they said something about mutual breakup and that there's no hard feelings between them

y/njazzy

liked by yourbestie, lilymunihe, and 64,728 more

y/njazzy new project coming up 🔜

comments

landonorris tell me who he is.

y/njazzy no❤️

landonorris and why exactly ???

y/njazzy i'll tell you, you'll tell oscar, oscar will tell logan, logan alex, and then magically the whole grid will know

landonorris you won't even tell your best friend?

y/njazzy you're talking about yourself or ?

landonorris PARDON #exbesties #friendshipover #offended

y/njazzy WAR IS OVEEEER

landonorris bye.

lilymunihe A MAN? A MAN? A MA-A-A-AN

lilymunihe girlies to the gc riGHT IN THIS MOMENT

lilymunihe avengers ASSEMBLE @/alexandrasaintmleux @/carmenmundt

carmenmundt i think we've missed a chapter here...

y/njazzy alex didn't.

carmenmundt excuse me !

lilymunihe SHE DID WHAT

alexandrasaintmleux tf y/n? i thought i meant something to you?

y/njazzy if i'm going down i'm taking everybody with me 😘😘😘

alexandrasaintmleux DO NOT QUOTE CHANDLER RN

user1 carlosy/nnation how are we feeling

user2 we don't.

user5 i have an idea...

user3 don't. don't give me hope

user7 fuck the guy NEW PROJECT IN THE MAKING ??? NEW MUSIC ???

user9 do i sense some movie soundtrack

liked by autor

user2 can you imagine

user5 Y/N LIKED !!!!!

carlossainz55

liked by maxverstappen, y/njazzy and 2,836,267

carlossainz55 getaway with mi amor

comments

charlesleclerc i pay my respects to her

carlossainz55 ¿disculpe?

charlesleclerc for putting up with you 😘

user carlos sainz jr i was NOT familiar

user1 which one of you bastards stole my man

reyesvdec ❤️

user2 APPROVED BY MAMA SAINZ

user6 i miss her and y/n together in the paddock

user5 that's y/n. mark my words

user1 i truly aspire to be as delusional as you

y/njazzy she's a lucky girl

carlossainz55 im a lucky boy*

user8 y/n's comment? im dead

user3 carlos' response?????? i am crying, the boy really is in love

y/njazzy

liked by carlossainz55, reyesvdec and 482,471 more

y/njazzy love. love love love.

comments

user8 our girl is in loooove 🥹

alexandrasaintmleux match made in heaven

carmenmundt you compliment eachother so well 🫶

landonorris you two are disgusting

y/njazzy jealousy, jealousy

user5 the luckiest girl???? i wonder why... maybe because she has carlos sainz

user ring ring, that's the mental ward calling for you

lilymunihe i'm heartbroken, how could you leave me

alex_albon execuse me? i'm right here??

y/njazzy lily it's just an act, let's run away together

lilymunihe i am ready to go

alex_albon HEY ITS NOT FAIR

alex_albon he can't even stand up for himself

carlosssainz55 he can

carlossainz55

liked by y/njazzy, landonorris and 5,839,821

carlossainz55 mi amor, you're the closest to heaven that I have ever been. I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I promise to cherish you forever. I am so incredibly grateful for you and everything you do. I want to thank you for being there for me, even after we broke up. there is no one else on this earth taht i would spend my life with. you are my person, and I am yours.

comments

georgerussell mate leave something for us

alex_albon what I am supposed to do rn, lily won't let me in to our apartment

charlesleclerc gentelmen we are so finished

landonorris die lol 👎

oscarpiastri yk that they can see you crying, right?

y/njazzy my one and only ❤️

user can somebody check on user5

user5 I KNEW I WAS NOT CRAZY

user5 PARENTS ARE REALLY BACK TOGETHER

y/njazzy

liked by carlossainz55, reyesvdec and 171,729,819 more

y/njazzy the only ex i would ever come back to 💋💋💋

comments

alexandrasaintmleux finally the ferrari girls are reunited

y/njazzy not for too long

alexandrasaintmleux foul

charlesleclerc too soon y/n, too soon

maxverstappen i won't even ask about the last pic

carlossainz55 the less you know the better you sleep

landonorris i cannot belive this is happening

y/njazzy sucks to suck ig

carlossainz55 only ex i couldn't move on from 🫶🫶🫶

y/njazzy you flatter me

user1 the difference in the capitions pls ✋️

[elysianightsss]

Pen Pal Price Part Two🫧🍑

nsfw ahead so I’ll cut it off at that point…reader is also described as chubby below because I am so they are too lol.

-

His voice startles you to the point where you visibly flinch, it’s nothing like how you imagined it to be. First of all, you didn’t know he was British. The accent that wraps around his words so sharply is one you recognise but can’t quite put your finger on in this moment.

His voice is deep, rumbles out somewhere from within his chest. It vibrates through the phone and through you. For him your honeyed voice drips into him like the sweetest summer wine.

“Sound so pretty.” You hear him mutter, barely a whisper but definitely something he was trying to hide. Your cheeks burn as you blush hard, your bottom lip caught between your teeth while you think of what to say to the man you’ve been writing to for weeks on end.

So many words exchanged and yet now you’re at a loss. Can’t think properly, it begs the question; how will you react when you meet in person?

“I haven’t got long, I guess now’s the time I tell you what I do for a living.” He chuckles lightly and you wish you could see his face while he does.

“Sounds intriguing.” You frown though your face is still smile stricken.

“Oh you bet it is love. Very dangerous, rough. I don’t think you’d want to hear about it.”

“Excuse me good sir, I live for danger. Did I not tell you how I dangerously painted the spare bedroom the other day? Though I don’t think it went well.” You joked looking over at the room that was half done and had paint streaks pointing in all different directions.

“Are you doubting your mad painting skills?” Your heart soared at the joke, at his laugh, just all of this. Being able to speak to him properly, being able to communicate more easily without waiting a whole week for his response to arrive by post. Shifting through the mail everyday desperate to read his words. You hadn’t felt this happy in years.

“Maybe just a little.” There’s a pause, and you think you hear some background chatter, something about unit leaving and someone definitely says captain, “maybe you could help me?”

“I definitely will.” He doesn’t hesitate with his answer, it’s so sure and so final. It says a lot about him. You’re desperate to know more. “I’m sorry love, I’ve got to go. I’ll call you tomorrow? Same time?”

And he does, you lunge for the phone practically jumping through the air to answer him. You chat about useless things, have silly little conversations about everyday life. There are days when you think it’s his day off work, those days he stays on the phone to you for hours. Those days are your favourite.

He tells you about the new book he got and even reads you a few chapters while you cook dinner, he makes you promise to cook him a meal sometime. You don’t hesitate to agree.

Again he loves the domesticity of it all, how prefect you are in his eyes, though his ocean blues haven’t actually seen you yet. What a perfect little wife you would make. He knows it’s far too soon to think about things like that but he cannot help himself.

The way you fly away with yourself, talking about what you’re doing that day or joking about something you saw on tv or giggling about the cupcakes you were making because the icing went wrong making what you piped look like pigs instead of the unicorns you were going for, for you niece’s birthday party.

He listens with his eyes closed, dreaming of the day he comes back from deployment. The day he comes back to you, to home smelling of freshly baked goods. His pretty lady waiting for him all smiles and giggles. He wishes.

“Um..” you pause unsure, wondering what if he says no.

“What is it love?” He asks so worried. So ready to fix any problem you throw his why. Once again though you hesitate and once more he encourages you, “Come on pretty lady, tell me. What’s up?” You let the nickname you’ve reprimanded him about numerous times slide with what you’re about to ask.

“D-Did you want t-to video call?” He grins at how fucking adorable you are. The way you stutter just asking a simple question like that. He bites back a groan at the way he stiffens in his trousers. Dirty old man.

“I would love to.” He of course then had to explain he had a flip phone. You laughed hard at him and said he would need a smartphone. You had no idea he would go and buy one just to video call you with. Another thing you reprimand him for, spending his hard earned money so easily like that. His little lady nagging him, and all he does is smile at the sound. He loves it.

Your heart hammers in your chest as the phone rings. A lot like the first time he called you. You had talked him through the set up and helped him understand what an app is and how to call on text on a smart phone. And finally, you told him how to video call. Which app to press, you were just explaining how it works when your phone begins to buzz with ‘John💕 is FaceTime you’ popping up on the screen. Your number of course being the first one he added.

You can’t help but feel nervous, checking you look semi okay on the screen before pressing the green answer button. Then your breath is knocked out of you so hard you actually choke, John fussing about getting some water and breathing for him goes in one ear and out the other. You can’t look away from him even as you catch your breath.

He’s nothing like you pictured and yet he’s perfect.

He looks like the kind of man you picture when you read romance novels and the kind of man that sneaks into the dreams that have you waking up hot under the collar and panties sticking to you uncomfortably. The little description of himself you asked for certainly did not do him justice.

“Hi love.”

“Hi John.”

“Fuck you’re gorgeous.” Even though you frown, you can’t stop a smile from splitting your face.

You’ve got chubbier cheeks and thicker thighs than most girls, something you’re insecure about and john can tell. But fuck you look gorgeous to him. Over the next few weeks John catches on to just how badly you feel about your body image, the way you put yourself down in favour of supermodels, the way you wear oversized clothing to cover yourself up. He finds himself grumbling, hating it each second more than the last.

He understands how badly beauty culture has fucked over women who are genuinely beautiful but are made to feel like they’re nothing. He gets it, he does. But he certainly doesn’t agree. Especially not with you. He finds himself dreaming of those squishable cheeks of yours, the way you’re so soft around the edges, he can tell.

You completely did him in last Monday, it’s the middle of winter for goodness sake, how did he know that you’d be wearing shorts when he FaceTimed you. Gym shorts that hugged your plump ass so fucking perfectly, that flashed your thick thighs to him. Christ, he’s been thinking about those pretty thighs all week long. When he’s running drills, your thighs are on his mind. When he’s planning out a mission with his unit, your thighs are on his mind. And when he’s alone at night with his hand wrapped around his swollen cock, your thighs are on his mind.

He can’t stand it anymore, it’s been agonising with how busy he’s been not calling you, not seeing you or hearing your voice. No knowing what you’ve been up to or how your day has gone. He calls and he praises the Lord above for bringing you to him, when you answer. A prayer on his lips, a beg for you to become his wife one day when you’re there smiling in the cutest silk pyjama set he’s ever seen. It hugs you exquisitely, showing off your rounded edges and all John can think about is how he can’t wait to sink his teeth into the soft flesh of your tummy.

You’re clearly fresh out the shower or bath with your damp hair and freshly wash face, but John’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life, in fact he tells you so. You haven’t felt your cheeks burn the way they did then, well maybe one other occasion.

“Love?”

“Yes John?”

“Would you like to meet me for coffee tomorrow? At that cafe you like?” He’s hopeful when he asks, you can not only hear it in his voice but see it in his face. “I’m in the area for work and have a few days where I’m free and I’d love to see you.”

You can’t recall a time in your life where all you did was smile, but since you found John, you don’t remember what not smiling all the time was like. You don’t remember anything other than how happy he makes you. So you take a breath, you muster up the courage and say yes.

“I’d love to see you too John. Just tell me what time and I’ll be there.”

[smartkookiee]

How to Lose A Guy in 30 Days! || Ch.3 — jjk.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab) ❥genre/rating: strangers to lovers, 18+ ❥chapter warnings/tags: software engineer!Jungkook, writer!Reader, fluff, 2000 rom com vibes, making out, flirting. drinking, swearing, crying, sweet pining Jungkook, Jungkooks past comes up (boooooo), ex situationship thingsss, its a sweet chapter and they make out and I love it, legit the easiest chapter I have written so far ❥word-count: 10.7k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 - send an ask or comment on post to be added to the tag list. ❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

Day 3

“And you really believe this guy is going to work for this?” Yoongi said, looking over your notes and layout of the entire plan you had.

“Absolutely sir.” You nod. 

It was the Tuesday following you and Jungkook’s date. You two had gotten some dinner and then you went home. You tried not to let that text ruin your mood but it did bring you down for the meal. You and Jungkook just talked more about what you do and things you liked. Just easy conversation and sharing social media, small things that you could mask your disappointment with and give cheerful and in depth answers too. 

That text sucked to see. It sucked to see that he made this promise to be serious but he was just playing you.To be fair, you didn’t know him. It was your first date and he didn’t owe you anything. It would just make this easier. 

"Already past the first date. You’re jumping in head first." Yoongi mused, scratching his chin thoughtfully. "So, what’s next?"

"The plan is to keep things moving. I only have thirty days, so I wanted to start strong. The first date was just to break the ice. Now, I'm aiming to stay in touch throughout the weeks—get more annoying to make sure I stay on his radar." 

Yoongi chuckled. "And what does annoying entail in this case?"

You grinned, feeling a mischievous spark. "I was thinking some things like being a little too clingy. Getting a bit too personal too soon. Social media stalking, maybe even acting overly sensitive to anything he says about 'dating' or 'us.' Just... trying to inch my way into his daily life, so he can’t quite shake me off. Then next week I will take things to the next step."

Yoongi nodded in approval. "I like it. Thorough and unexpected, just what we want. Let’s round back around next week and check-in. We’ll go over your progress and adjust as needed. You’re off to a good start."

You gave him a grateful nod. "Thank you, sir."

With a wave of his hand, “Now go write, be amazing.” Yoongi dismissed you, and you returned to your desk, your mind already spinning with ideas. You were ready to dive into this full force, but there was one small snag, a small but persistent worry. You’d sent Jungkook a quick text yesterday, just a light “good morning” and a note about enjoying the date, but there hadn’t been a reply yet.

It wasn’t a big deal but already not responding to a text after a whole day was not sitting well with you.

Settling yourself down into your chair, that small disappointment from seeing that text on Jungkook's phone was still nagging at you. Your friends had warned you not to get attached, to keep things light, but you’d ignored them. They called this from a million miles away and you, like an idiot, let your guard down like always. 

Well, not this time. This was just a job. No more emotional slip-ups. 

“Damn it, I’m a writer.” You mumbled under your breath. “This is just research. He’s just a random guy.”

With renewed determination, you opened your laptop, fingers flying across the keyboard as you drafted the first section of your article. Reliving the details of your first date, you kept it light and short because this wasn’t about how the first date went great, it’ll be about everything that happens now. You had your plan ready for action.

You were finally hitting a flow, words forming exactly as you wanted, when you heard footsteps stop just outside your cubicle. 

“Special delivery!” Ann, one of the front-desk clerks, appeared with a bright smile, holding a small bouquet. "Someone’s got an admirer!"

She set down a small bouquet of sunflowers. The choice of flower surprised you most of all, you loved sunflowers. They were tied together with a purple ribbon and card attached to the end. Opening it, “A little bit of sun for a rainy first date. Thank you for listening to my fish facts. JK.” 

“Aww, that’s so sweet.” Ann cooed, lingering a moment to admire the flowers. She shot you a grin before heading back to the front, and you tried to keep your reaction composed.

You couldn't help but feel that small spark of joy, despite yourself, as you read the card. The sunflowers, your favorite, were unexpected and so charming. Tied with a cute ribbon that added a touch of thoughtfulness. You’d never been given flowers by anyone other than your parents and that one college boyfriend. Yet here they were, sent to your office, just for you.

If this had been any other situation, you’d probably be blushing and grinning like an idiot, falling head over heels way too fast. But the reminder of what you knew—what he was likely doing, the kind of guy he really was—kept you grounded. 

As you stared at the bouquet, lost in thought, the telltale squeak of a chair wheeling over caught your attention.

“Wow someone’s special.” Ronnie rolled right next to you. “Are those from who I think they are from?” 

 "Looks like it." You replied casually, flashing her the card. "Just… a little thank you gift."

Ronnie waggled her eyebrows. "Oh, just a thank you gift? The guy sent you your favorite flowers, after only one date. You sure you aren’t already planning your future house decor with him?"

Rolling your eyes, you turned back to your laptop, brushing off the teasing. "Maybe," But the flicker of disappointment crept back in. "If he hadn't got that text on our date. Then maybe this would be a sweet gesture. There's no way I'm getting attached to someone who’s probably chatting up another girl at the same time."

Ronnie gave you a skeptical look. "You still haven’t told me what it said, just that you went from mildly hopeful to permanently sour about him. Especially after you begged me and Jin to let you pick another guy before the date even ended."

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. "It was… friendly , if you know what I mean."

“Oh, friendly friendly?” She echoed, her voice heavy with implication. She winced sympathetically. "I’m sorry."

You shook your head, swiveling to face her. "No, no. We’re not doing the whole pity party thing. No look at Y/N she got fooled by another asshole again. This is work.  I knew what I was signing up for with this guy, and it’s why I chose him. I can handle it."

Ronnie raised her brows. "Yeah, sure. You sound totally fine."

“I am fine.” You insisted, forcing a smile. “It’s all part of the assignment, right? A totally detached, unbiased observation. Think of me as an objective researcher.”

“Okay Dr. Detachment. How are you going to respond to these?” Ronnie glanced down to the flowers and then back up to you. 

You opened your mouth to answer but paused, glancing at the flowers. You already knew what you wanted to do, but still… you weren’t quite sure how to play it yet. 

Meanwhile, across town, Jungkook was still buzzing from his own bold move. He and Hoseok were walking down the street on their lunch break, and Hoseok eyed him suspiciously. Jungkook filled him on the details with a little too much spring in his step, never the way Hoseok had ever seen Jungkook act after a date. 

“So… the date went that well, huh?” Hoseok finally asked, giving Jungkook a smirk. “You’re practically skipping.”

“Hey, I am not. ” Jungkook grumbled, trying to keep his voice casual as he filled Hoseok in on the date. It had gone smoother than he’d expected, and he couldn’t ignore that spark of excitement. 

Jungkook had done a little social media stalking when he spent the day with his parents yesterday. You used a sunflower in your bio and in a lot of your posts, so he took a guess that they may have been your favorite flower. It did take him a little tracking down though, since sunflowers were going out of season. 

Hoseok grinned, giving Jungkook an approving nod. “So… flowers and a corny note? You’re going for gold.”

“Exactly,” Jungkook replied, a proud glint in his eyes. “I’m hoping she liked it. She’s into romantic movies and such so I thought it would be a good gesture.” Plus it was a perfect opening note since sending flowers is another classic romantic movie troup. “She should have gotten them by now.” He checked his phone yet again, his screen still frustratingly blank.

Hoseok raised an eyebrow to him, “Does it bother you that she’s not immediately giving you all of her attention.” 

Jungkook snorted, “No.” He paused but the silence between them hung a little too long for Hoseok to be convinced, “Okay maybe a little.” 

Hoseok let out a laugh, shaking his head with an amused grin. "Wow. Didn’t know you were secretly a heartthrob under all that cool indifference. Who are you, and what did you do with Jungkook?"

“Shut up.” Jungkook muttered, fighting a smile as he looked away. “I’m just… giving this a real shot.”

“And you’re stressing out over whether she liked your flowers or not.” Hoseok added, raising an eyebrow. “Must be a real first for you.”

Jungkook shrugged, feeling his cheeks heat up. “I just thought I’d make an effort, alright? ” He glanced at his phone again, his thumb hovering over the screen before he stuffed it back into his pocket.

“Why do I feel like the grand romantic gesture wasn’t entirely about the bet?” Hoseok chuckled, giving him a playful nudge.

“It’s not because I’m actually dating her remember?” Jungkook replied, a little too quickly, then caught himself. 

“You know,” Hoseok said, tilting his head, “there’s no law that says you can’t text her first, right? Might even make you seem… interested.”

Jungkook scoffed, his gaze glued to the sidewalk. “I don’t want to look desperate.”

“Dude, come on. Desperate is sending $50 sunflowers in November.” Hoseok replied, laughing as Jungkook scowled.

Jungkook sighed, but a faint smile tugged at his lips. “I just really enjoyed spending time with her. It’s different.”

“So shoot her a text, lover boy.” Hoseok urged, hit Jungkook lightly on the back of the head. “All the smooth moves in the world won’t matter if she doesn’t know you’re into her.”

Jungkook’s phone buzzed just as Hoseok delivered his advice, catching him off guard. He glanced down and saw your name on the screen. His eyes lit up, and a grin broke across his face—so wide and boyish that it almost unnerved Hoseok.

“Speak of the devil.” Jungkook muttered, barely containing his excitement.

“Well answer it.” He shoves his shoulder.

 Jungkook fumbles with his phone and steps off to the side to answer, “You’ve reached Sunflowers on the Go. How may I be of service?” 

You humm on the other end of the line in amusement, “So it’s the strangest thing. I got this delivery of sunflowers here on my desk but I don’t remember placing an order.” 

“Hmm, strange indeed.” Jungkook replied, grinning. “Turns out we only deliver to Composure magazine. No one else.”

What Jungkook wasn't aware of is you had him on speaker phone so Ronnie was also able to hear him. She brought her hand to her face at his cheesy responses. You also shook your head at absurdity. 

“Oh, is that so?” You teased. “Well, there was a little card attached… signed by someone named ‘JK.’”

“Yep, that’s the guy. Don’t know him personally, but he seems pretty cool.” Jungkook said, leaning into the joke. Looking over at Hoseok who was drawing hearts in the air around Jungkook, Jungkook just rolled his eyes.

“Hmmm, I don’t know anyone named ‘JK’. Guess I’ll just have to throw these away then.” You play with the ribbon in your fingers.

“Whoa, whoa, hey! That’s mean!” He protested, laughing. You laughed as well at his protest.

“Okay but seriously how did you know these were my favorite?” You touch one of the petals, sunflowers were definitely out of season so he had to go to some work to find really fresh ones. “Or was it just a lucky guess?”

“I may or may not have noticed a pattern on your socials.” His tone was sheepish and you just shook your head.

“Ah, so you were stalking me.” You nod, you notice Ronnie roll on over back to her desk. Coming back with her phone in hand. She was typing frantically.

“Maybe a little bit.” Jungkook let a beat pass, “I guess more importantly do you like them?” 

“They are very beautiful. Especially for this time of year.” You sigh, the gesture really was sweet. Might be fast for Jungkook to send flowers this early on but still sweet.

Jungkook let out a sigh he hadn't realized he had even been holding in, “I do have to confess something. I was hoping this would make an opening for me to invite you to dinner.” He shifted from side to side, “Well I would be making dinner.”

“Inviting me over? Wow, bold move. So soon.” You smile, Ronnie giving you a knowing look and you brushing her off. “Would I have to do anything?”

“I will take care of it all, I need to prove I can make a mean carbonara.” Hoseok gave Jungkook a look like he had no idea he had any cooking skill. “How about tonight?”

“I have plans tonight.” Which wasn’t a lie, you were going to work on some writing tonight. “How about Thursday?” 

“Perfect. You’re gonna be impressed, I already know it.” Jungkook chewed on his bottom lip. 

“I’m sure I will.” 

With some goodbyes you both hung up the phone. You could suddenly feel your heart racing in your chest and you mentally scolded yourself. You needed to remember none of this was long term. Which Ronnie was taking the lead in reminding you about.

“For someone who claims to be totally normal about all of this, you sure are smitten.” She crossed her arms and eyebrow raised observing you, “He totally knew these would work on you.” 

“I am totally normal about all of this. This is perfect, we are going on a second date and I get to start implementing my plan. Everything is on track.” You say but Ronnie is looking back to her phone, “What are you looking at?”

“I’m trying to find his instagram.” She continued typing, not looking back up to you. 

“Oh he doesn’t have one.” You remembered from dinner on Sunday. It wasn’t abnormal for someone to not have one but Ronnie was surprised. 

“Boo, how am I supposed to dig up dirt on him?” Ronnie slumped down into her chair. You had actually done a little digging of your own the evening before though. 

“Pretty sure that’s my job and I already did. He has twitter but he doesn’t post often. He keeps a pretty low presence online so I wasn’t able to learn much that way.” You sigh, it was actually a little refreshing although it did leave you guessing. Makes it tough to be intrusive in the next steps of your plan. “By the way, can you cry on command?”

Ronnie raises an eyebrow at your request, “I don’t but I think we both know who might.” 

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

Day 5

Thursday arrived, you and Jungkook spent the entire day texting back and forth just talking about whatever came to your minds. You found any excuse to ask him any random question. Send him random things you genuinely thought were funny. He also had something funny to say back or respond with. So you just let that be it, just texting and talking as much as possible. 

Jungkook had spent the night before doing a practice carbonara. Watching some guy on youtube walking him through the steps. It turned out pretty good but he knew he could make a better one tonight. He got really nice ingredients that hopefully would push it over the edge. He really wanted to make a good first impression with his cooking. He had no issue inviting you over so soon after knowing you, he felt really comfortable with you already. 

He hoped it wasn’t too forward, but you didn’t seem to mind. 

He had a bottle of mid tier white wine in his fridge and he also got a red one because he wasn’t sure what you would prefer. He also wasn't sure what would pair better with a carbonara. Jungkook dressed his table up all nice, it was nothing special but a candle classes it up a little bit. Classic romantic things. It felt somewhat awkward and made him cringe but also no one else was around to see his effort but you, and you would appreciate it. 

Or at least he hoped you would. 

He then heard a knock from his front door. He thought it was a little early for you to be here but he didn’t mind, he still was making the food and he could pour you a glass while you waited. He trotted to his door, a wide grin on his face as he swung the door open with some gusto, only to have his features fall. 

“Channel?”Jungkook's face twisted into a confused but unamused expression, as she brushed past him into the apartment. “Please, come on in.” He said, his voice clearly sarcastic.

Channel looked like she was dressed for a night out and not for a very cold November evening at that. She had her hair curled and bouncy like it usually was, and the highest heel she could comfortably wear, clicking her way around Jungkook's apartment.

“I want my scarf back,” She had her arms crossed, strolling into the apartment with ease. She had been here enough times to know where everything was. “and since you won’t respond to my calls, here I am in person.”

“Okay, you couldn’t have texted me about this?” Jungkook let his front door close and followed after her through his apartment, as she tried to look under things and around furniture. 

She laughed bitterly, “Last I checked, you’ve been avoiding my texts as well.” She continued her hunt around his space. Jungkook getting a little peeved since he spent a good amount of time trying to make his space look good for your arrival. Your arrival which would be really soon and this was not a good look for a guy as you clocked as ‘unserious’.

"I kind of have a life, you know? I can’t answer every text you send.” Jungkook kept his eyes peeled for the scarf, more than ready for this encounter to end.

“Yeah, right.” Channel’s voice dripped with disbelief as she followed him further into the apartment, her arms crossed. “I could tell Hoseok was covering for you.” She paused mid-sentence, catching sight of the dining table set for two, a soft candle flickering in the center. Her expression turned suspicious. “And… what is that ?”

Jungkook looked back to the table and then back to her, acting like it’s always looked like that. “Nothing, now where is that scarf?”

“Your place is so… spotless.” She murmured, her eyes scanning every corner of his living room, taking in the lit lamps, the neatly arranged coffee table, and the faint smell of food coming from the kitchen. “Setting a mood , are we?”

“I mean, I clean often. I’m not a slob.” He replied defensively, trying to wave off her assumptions, though he could see she was putting it all together, one detail at a time.

Channel sniffs the air for a moment and then stalks over to the kitchen, “You’re cooking? You don’t cook.”

“Whenever he hung out, cooking really wasn’t a part of the schedule.” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, aware that he was pushing her buttons. “I cook all the time.” 

“Oh, I see.” She replied, her tone flat but her eyes flashing. She tilted her head, a cruel smile tugging at her lips. “So, who is she, then?” 

Jungkook sighed, not fighting her anymore, “no one, and she is coming over soon, let’s find your scarf so you can leave.” 

But Channel didn’t budge, her eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms tighter. 

“Oh no, no, no. You’re not brushing this off like that. Nice napkins, a candle? You set a damn table , Jungkook. What is this, some kind of date?” Her voice grew sharper with each word, anger and betrayal clear in her expression.

“That’s not really your business is it?” Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck, he needed to get her out of here. 

Channel let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Not my business? You know what’s funny? All this time, I thought maybe we were building toward something real. And now, I see you’re doing that with someone else ?” She scoffed, her face hardening. “What, you just didn’t want this with me?”

Her words hung in the air, clear betrayal laced them. Him and Channel only had a sexual relationship, it’s what they agreed upon from the start. Sometime in there Channel developed some feelings for him and after a few months asked if they could take this more seriously. Jungkook wasn’t ready for that kind of step so they ended it all together. So now this all looks really bad. 

Except, he thought, it’s none of her business if he did change his mind. He never lied to her, and he was always very clear that he did not want a relationship. He really didn’t, and this thing with you, although a part of a bet, was something he was dipping his toes into. 

“Channel, that’s not it.” Jungkook said, sighing. “I never lied to you. I really didn’t want a relationship.” He hesitated, then finally admitted, “But I met someone, and…we’re trying things out and it’s brand new. So please leave.”

Channel’s face twisted in anger, her voice rising as she spat, “Oh, I get it.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, looking around his place with fresh resentment. “I bet you’ll dump her as soon as you’ve slept together a few more times. Because that’s what you do , Jungkook.”

He clenched his fists, frustrated but trying to stay calm. “You know, I’ve had enough of this,.” He said quietly, finally spotting the scarf stuffed into a seat cushion. He pulled it out, tossing it to her.

She caught it and threw it around her neck with a sneer. “So what is it about her, huh? What makes her so ‘special’ that suddenly you’re willing to commit ?” She shot him a glare, stepping closer. “Maybe I should stick around and meet this one-of-a-kind woman. See what all the fuss is about.”

“No,” Jungkook said firmly, guiding her toward the door. “You’re leaving, now .”

She jerked away from his touch, folding her arms defiantly. “What? Is she coming soon?” Her eyes gleamed with spite. “You don’t want her to know what you’re really like?”

Jungkook let out a slow breath, gathering his patience. “No. I think she would be an adult and actually talk with me about it.” He replied, surprising himself with the honesty in his voice. “Whatever she finds out—that’s for me to tell her and her to decide. So, goodnight, Channel.”

She stared at him, anger simmering as she pulled open the door, glancing back with an icy glare. “Screw you, Jungkook.” With that, she stormed out, letting the door slam behind her.

At the same time she opened the door, you were stepping out of the elevator and onto Jungkook’s floor. You spotted a girl storming down the hallway after yelling inside a doorway, as she passed you muttering a quick “Excuse me” without a second glance. You had an uneasy feeling about her, especially as she walked away from the very apartment number Jungkook had given you. You double-checked, confirming the number on your phone with the one she had just exited, and the sinking feeling intensified.

“Jesus Jungkook. At least have some class and spread out your dates so we don’t bump into each other in the hall.” You whisper under your breath, but you still had to go through with this as if you didn’t immediately feel a sense of dread. 

You took a steadying breath, willing yourself to ignore the uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. After all, you were here now, and nothing had technically happened to prove your suspicions. So you pushed them down, knocked on the door, and tried to keep your expression neutral, reminding yourself you were maybe a minute early—nothing too crazy.

The door opened after a brief pause, and Jungkook’s face shifted from guarded to bright relief when he saw you standing there. His lips curled into a wide, easy smile, like he was genuinely glad to see you. His hair was a little tousled, his shirt a snug, tucked into jeans that fit him perfectly, emphasizing his lean frame. He looked relaxed, casually put together, which was somehow infuriatingly charming.

“Hey,” He greeted, his voice warm, stepping aside so you could enter. “Come on in.”

“Hi.” You replied, acting as if nothing felt off. 

You stepped past him, letting your eyes flick around the apartment, taking in the details—the tidy coffee table, a low hum of music playing through the room. He had a nice living room set up around a TV on the wall, the dining setup with an actual candle in the center. He’d put thought into this, that much was obvious. You couldn’t deny it was sweet, even if it left you slightly off-balance, considering what you’d walked past in the hallway moments ago.

“Okay now looking at it now, the candle maybe was a little cheesy.” Jungkook cringed at himself looking at the little set up. You shake your head and wave him off. 

“No, I think it's adorable. You even got a scentless one so it doesn’t cover the smell of the food.” You take a seat at the table, “I’m prepared to be wow’d like you promised me.” 

“I unfortunately got a little bit delayed so I am not quite done yet.” Jungkook was shuffling his way back into the kitchen, “But make yourself at home.”

“Okay.” You smile as he rounds his way back into his kitchen, he watches you get back up and walk around his living space. Almost like he was waiting for approval. Luckily Channel hadn’t trashed the place. 

You took note of all of the little things he chose to have on display, some books, a few polaroid cameras and some polaroid's on the walls, as well as a record collection that was lined the side of the living room on some shelves. You thumbed through some of them to see what was available. Impressed with some of his picks, some similar to your own. His place wasn’t terribly big. Classic little bachelor pad. You had noticed he had chosen to keep what you could only assume was his bedroom door closed. 

It was something Jungkook thought way too hard about, if he left it open was it like saying he wanted to sleep with you tonight? Would it be way too forward? Or was closing it just as weird? Was closing it like telling you that he didn’t really want you in his space? He went back and forth and then opted to close it to maybe say he wasn’t expecting anything to happen, although he wouldn’t mind if it did. 

You on the other hand didn’t barely give it a thought other than noticing it. You picked up one of his polaroid cameras and brought it with you. You round your way back to his kitchen and stand off to the side watching him work. He was pretty zoned in on what he was doing, everything was really smelling great. You usually found it pretty hot if a guy could cook well. 

Jungkook took an opportunity to try some of his work and you took a photo right at the moment he took a bite, his eyes widened right at the moment he realized he'd been caught.

The picture came out and you set it down to develop. 

“I’m sure that will be super cute.” You laugh, setting down his camera as well. He laughs and you look over his shoulder to see how close he is to being done.

“Coming to inspect my work?” Jungkook glances to his side, seeing you peering over his shoulder to see what he was doing. He was almost done cooking. 

“Maybe.” You tease, “I’m a sucker for people who can cook. I’m just… okay at it.” 

“Well,” Jungkook stops what he is doing and reaches for a drawer next to him pulling out a fork and twirling some of the noodles onto it. Then holding the fork out to you. “I’m ready for your final score.”

You paused. Debating if you should eat the food off the fork or if you should take the fork. Would it send the wrong message if you ate off it? Or was that exactly what he was doing? The fork wasn’t very close to your mouth but not crazy far. You decided to just take the fork from him and take the bite. 

It ended up being really good carbonara. 

“Oh my god.” You smile chewing, “it’s really fucking good. Ten out of ten.” 

Jungkook did a small fist pump to himself, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth hiding a smile. “I’ll admit, I did a practice run yesterday and it was just okay but I’m glad this one is good.” Jungkook then took a bite of it himself with another fork. Jungkook upon tasting his own food smacking his own forehead and leaning back. 

Causing you to laugh at his dramatic reaction. 

You glanced at the polaroid on the counter picking it up to see if it had developed yet, it wasn’t fully done but you could see mostly what the picture would look like. You showed it to Jungkook and he smiled, “Ten out of ten picture. Best one of me yet.” 

You looked at it and he did look like a deer caught in the headlights but it was funny, you set it down. 

“I’ll admit I’m wowed, to be fair I’ve only had carbonara like one other time.” You lean against one of his kitchen counters watching him as he plates the pasta for the two of you.

“I’ll still take the high praise. Now, should we do a white or a red wine?” 

“Hmm, a red works better with this I think.” You nod. 

Jungkook tells you where you can find his bottle opener and some glasses. You managed to get the cork screw into the cork but seem to be lacking the ability to actually pull the cork out of the bottle. Jungkook finds some amusement in watching your struggle but you persist. You’ve opened plenty of wine bottles in the past, this shouldn’t be difficult. 

“Having some trouble?” Jungkook watched you try and fail to pull the cork out a third time.

“Absolutely not. The cork and I are just having a disagreement.” You shake off your hand a few times and then get a better grip on the screw pulling upward as best you can. With some pathetic struggle, you really swear you can feel the cork moving. You let out a sigh as you let it go again. 

“May I?” 

“I swear I’m not that weak.” This honestly was just embarrassing at this point, so much so you have to face away from Jungkook at your next attempt. 

You make one final grip on the corkscrew and twist and tug, finally the corkscrew and cork pop free. Not before your hand comes straight, hard and fast, into your own face.

“Oh shit,” Jungkook’s face changes as he sees you basically punch your own face. “Are you okay?” 

You did dizzy yourself slightly but you set the bottle down. Feeling your face, hoping you hadn’t broken your nose although it certainly would be bruised or sore at least, “Okay maybe I should never open wine ever again.” 

Your nose then began to pulse with pain, this definitely wasn’t a part of your plan for sure. you covered it with one of your hands but Jungkook pulled it away. “Here let me look at it.”

“Please tell me it’s not bleeding.” You groan, and Jungkook places his hands on both of your cheeks looking at it. You match his face and he looks genuinely concerned. 

“Well, I’m not a doctor but you’re still pretty cute.” He then smiles and rubs one of his thumbs on your cheek. “That’s my professional assessment anyways.”

“Okay, but it still really hurts.” You say, letting your own hands rest on his wrists. 

“Hey, it’s probably just a bit sore—no blood, no bruise.” He gently tilts your head from side to side in a silly, exaggerated inspection that makes you giggle. 

It’s quiet between you both for a moment, Jungkook still holding your face. He just looks over your face for a moment, your nose was red but it was probably going to be okay. He had hurt his own nose a few times to know if it was broken. 

Jungkook’s hands still on your cheeks, eyes meeting as he studies your face. It’s easy to get lost in the warmth of his gaze and how close he is. A little too easy. For a second, you find yourself softening, tempted by the thought of leaning in and just letting yourself enjoy this. But then, just in time, you snap back to reality, realizing you can use this little mishap to your advantage. This damage to your nose might have actually opened up a window for what you had been working yourself up too.

You pull your face away from Jungkook and shake your head, breathing in a heavy breath. Jungkook looked a little confused but then after a moment you were crying. You were crying? 

“Hey,” He placed a hand on your shoulder, “I was just teasing you.” 

You wave your hands in a frantic show, your voice cracking just a little. “No, no, it’s not you. It’s just….” You let out a little sob. “I’m just so clumsy! And you made this beautiful dinner, and I’ve totally ruined it!”

Jungkook looks utterly bewildered now, glancing around as if the answer to your sudden breakdown might be hiding in his kitchen cabinets. “Really, I promise, you didn’t mess anything up. I’m just glad you’re okay.” He squeezes your shoulder reassuringly, almost nervously.

“Ugh, I can't believe this. I’m totally ruining the mood.” You wipe your tears away. 

It was a good little performance. One that was planned.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

The evening before.

Day 04

“The art of crying on command.” Here you were again. Ronnie sitting next to you. Jin pacing back and forth with his notepad once again. Unfortunately for you, Jin was the person to have expertise on this subject being an acting teacher. 

“Okay I already regret this.” You try to stand up but Ronnie pulls you back down onto Jin’s couch. 

“This will help you!” Ronnie protested and leaned on you once you were settled back in. “This can be a part of your over dramatic persona you use.” 

“Exactly! It gives you another tool in the toolbox for the charade you signed up for!” Jin pointed at you with his pen and waving it around. 

“Fine, continue.” You wave for him to go on and Jin grins. 

“Thank you! Now, there are three main techniques for crying on command.” he begins, pacing dramatically. “Some people can just… do it. They snap their fingers and—bam! Tears.” He snaps his fingers for effect. “Others need to go to a sad memory. Something personal and emotional, something that really tugs at the heartstrings. And then, of course, some people have to resort to…ahem, creative methods. Pepper in the sinuses, maybe a little poke to the eye…”

“Let’s please avoid self-injury.” You interrupt dryly, giving him a look.

“Fair enough. Let’s start with the basics and see if you’re a natural.” Jin says, jotting a note on his pad. “Close your eyes, focus, and let’s see if you can will the tears into existence.”

You sit up straight, trying your best to summon tears on command, forcing your eyes to feel…sad? Your face contorts into what you hope is a tearful expression, but as you blink, nothing happens. Your eyes are as dry as ever.

“Nothing?” Jin sighs and makes a dramatic strike-through on his notepad, looking deeply disappointed.

“Yeah, sorry.” You mutter. “Nothing.”

“Okay,” Jin strikes something out on his notepad and you roll your eyes at his dramatics. “ Cannot cry on command. So let’s try a memory, or is there a movie scene you can’t think about because it gets you teared up?” 

You sit and think, you have some sad memories from your childhood that you bring to the front of your mind. Reminiscing on them, although some things are sad or bittersweet, nothing tear jerking. 

“Dry.” Ronnie leans over and looks closely in your eyes, so much so you have to shove her face away from you. 

“Dry.” Jin repeats and writes on his notepad. 

“Maybe try going to the dark place?” Ronnie snaps and looks at you. “You always get really teary eyed when you think about dying alone.”

“Okay rude.” You sigh, it wasn’t untrue. Whenever you came back from dates that were unsuccessful or you wasted your time on someone who just wanted something casual you found yourself going to, what you and Ronnie have deemed, the dark place. “I don’t like thinking about that.” 

“It’s for science!” Ronnie cheers, throwing her arms up like it's supposed to make it more fun or something. 

You groan, sinking deeper into the couch.  “I don’t know if this is such a great idea, honestly. When I start spiraling about my love life, it’s not exactly…mild.” You look down, already feeling a little prick of sadness starting to stir.

Jin comes and squats in front of you, “Well then just go to the edge of it and don’t think about the whole picture. What about dying alone usually gets you crying?” 

You think for a second, and finally, the words come out quietly. “I guess… I cry when I start thinking that maybe I won’t ever find someone who’s…just right for me.”

Ronnie lets out a soft “aww” and nudges you gently.

You let yourself feel it for a moment—the uncertainty, the nagging doubt that, maybe, you’ll keep hitting dead ends. And with that, you feel a familiar, bittersweet ache starting to well up.

Jin nods approvingly, seeing a slight glimmer in your eyes. “Excellent.” He says, jotting down, potential crying trigger identified.

The vulnerability hangs in the air, and you let yourself lean into it a little. Lately, it felt harder and harder to keep going on dates, to believe that love might work out someday. You always seemed to be either too much or not enough—loving too deeply, too slowly, too intensely. It left you feeling drained, to the point where dating felt less like romance and more like a chore.

But with Jungkook, for once, you’d felt...hopeful. Like there was someone who genuinely wanted to share a moment, who put effort into making sure you had a good time. As unintentional as it was, you’d started to feel a little spark, considering the circumstances of your forced meeting. But as soon as you’d started to believe it, you reminded yourself it was all part of the act. You couldn’t let yourself actually believe it. You got your hopes up again , and they were ripped out from under you… again . 

So you had slowly felt as time went on, you were losing sight of finding the one.  

Then without even realizing it, you had a few stray tears fall from your eyes. 

“Boom!” Jin erupted and sprang to his feet, “We have tears!”

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

You gripped onto that feeling you let it force a few more tears out of your eyes. Unfortunately you did not avoid the personal injury part of the tears. So this was going really well for you. 

You take a shaky breath, letting a few more tears roll down, making sure the sniffle that follows sounds especially pitiful. “Maybe I should just go home.” You say, voice wavering. “This along with my day… it’s all just been too much. You probably think I’m completely insane.”

You manage to start walking toward the door. Jungkook then panics for a moment, how did we go from laughing at you injuring your nose to crying and saying you’re going home? He felt like he had jumped three steps or something. You start toward the front door but Jungkook stepped around you, stopping you. 

“Wait what?” Jungkook looked confused, “How did we get here? I don’t want you to leave.”

You sniff even louder, adding just the right amount of snotty dramatics. “No, I should. You barely know me, and here I am—an emotional wreck in your kitchen. It’s… it’s too much.”

“And? You just hit yourself in the nose really hard. I would be a little embarrassed and want to leave too.” Jungkook places a hand on your arm, trying to comfort you. “Besides, isn't the whole point of going on dates to get to know each other better?”

“I guess.” You wipe your face again, “I don’t know… I didn’t mean to just… fall apart like this.”

Jungkook sighs a little relieved, that could have spiraled further. “And just so you know, I don’t think you’re crazy at all.”

“Well it’s still early, I haven't had a chance to go full blown crazy yet.” Which gets a laugh out of both you and Jungkook. 

“Well I can deal with that I think.” He gives you a small, reassuring smile. “Besides, the food is still good. Wine is still out and last I checked a bruised nose doesn’t stop you from eating.” 

“Wait, is it actually bruising?” You reflexively go up to touch it, definitely tender to the touch and jungkook chuckles a little. 

“I’m teasing. It’s only a little red.” He takes your hand and pulls you back into his apartment, with a little reluctance from you. “Stay, at least for a little while. I’m not going to let you walk out of here feeling like this.”

You blink up at him, playing up a hint of uncertainty, but inside, you’re genuinely a little taken aback. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do.” He tilts his head to the side trying to meet your eyes, that had been darting everywhere else out of real embarrassment. “Look, I don’t care if you cry, I’m the biggest cry baby I know!”

You manage a small, hesitant smile, as if he’s starting to get through to you. “I find that hard to believe.” 

Jungkook scoffs, feigning insult. “Oh, don’t underestimate me. Those ‘lost puppy finds his way home’ commercials? I’m done. I’m over here pretending there’s dust in my eyes.”

You laugh again, shaking your head. “Okay, maybe I believe you… just a little.”

“There we go!” He looks genuinely pleased, his expression softening as he sees you relax. “So, if I’m willing to admit my crybaby tendencies, it’s only fair you stick around for dinner, right?” He tucks his bottom lip into his mouth in anticipation of your answer. 

“Alright, I’ll stay.” You say it with an air of nonchalance, trying to mask the small spark of mischief hidden behind your agreement. It earns you a relieved, borderline triumphant smile from Jungkook.

“Phew! You’re sparing me from a whole night of wondering if my cooking scared you off for good.” He grins, his dramatic sigh punctuating his relief.

“Oh, please.” You say, rolling your eyes, feeling the perfect opening for a light jab. “If anything, the food is what convinced me to stay.”

Jungkook then serves dinner for the both of you. You both fall into easy conversation as you eat, he really did do a great job with the food. He was very considerate of making sure you needed anything else or pouring more wine when you wanted it. As well as making you laugh at almost every single turn. You really do get it why he got girls to go home with him so easily, between this and your first date the amount of confidence and charm that exudes from him is palpable in the air. 

Jungkook would never show it but his lack of practice with dating has actually made this date and your last the most nervous he has been in a while. Jungkook’s mind is racing, carefully cataloging every response you make, every laugh, every nod. He wants—needs—this to go well, not just because he’d prefer to win $300 rather than lose it, but because, in his gut, he actually likes seeing you here, across from him. He catches himself wondering if he’s oversharing when he starts a story, or if he’s going on too long when he recounts his last trip. When you laugh at one of his stupid jokes, he relaxes a bit, but he still can’t quite shake that uncertainty. 

You decided no more theatrics for the evening and let this play out naturally, how you would play out any other evening. Anything else would tip him off that maybe you were doing this on purpose. 

After a while the two of you had moved into the living room, you had been flipping through his records again, you didn’t take a chance to look at them all earlier. He had a decent collection for sure so you got a good sense of the type of music he liked. You both had a few glasses of wine now and so the conversation had turned more and more flirtatious. 

Noting the variety of music—jazz, a little classic rock, some alternative stuff. “You’ve got a good taste.” You say, glancing back at him. “This one,” you pull a record out with a slight smirk, “definitely says something about you.”

“Oh yeah?” He grins, leaning on the side of his couch as he watches you move around his shelves. “And what exactly does it say?”

You tilt your head, pretending to give it serious thought. “That you’re trying really hard to be cool. Just edgy enough.”

He laughs, though you notice he flushes slightly, brushing off your joke with a casual shrug. “Hey, everyone needs a little mystery. Or at least…a halfway-decent record collection.”

“Is that what you’re hiding?” You tease. “A mysterious vinyl collection? Or is it just your immense amount of fish facts?”

“Well, you’ll have to stick around to find out.” The words slip out before he can stop them, and he immediately kicks himself. It feels too... eager, a bit too close to something genuine. But he manages to recover, putting on a self-assured smile. “Not everyone gets to see my hidden jazz albums.”

You laugh, setting the record back and looking at him with a raised brow. “Guess I’ll have to consider myself lucky, then.” Finding a spot back on the couch with him. 

Jungkook shifted in his spot so his body was completely facing you now. With the alcohol having set in, his eyes were a little droopy and he was smiling but he looked boyish. He found the more he was learning about you the more he felt fine with telling you things about himself. 

“You look tired.” You poke his forehead. “Maybe I really should go.” 

“It’s barely even late.” Jungkook takes your hand, lacing your fingers with his. “I’m not tired at all.” 

“Your eyes tell a different story.” You laugh, leaning your head against the back of his couch. 

“Well what else are they saying?” He smirks, finding any reason to get a compliment from you. 

You stare at them for a minute, you were trying to come up with something clever. “Well if I am translating this right… I can’t handle my wine. ”

You laugh and Jungkook rolls his eyes, “Wow how did you know?” 

“I have a thing for reading people.” You shrug. “What do mine say?”

He leans in really close looking between them. “ Wow this guy is so hot and charming I really want to kiss him again .” Jungkook then gasps dramatically leaning away. “That’s scandalous, Y/N.”

“Shut up.” You laugh and get up from the couch trying to leave, Jungkook's hand pulling you back to standing in front of him. “You’re really full of yourself.”

“I’d like to think just a healthy amount.” He grins, Jungkook then places one of his hands on the back of your thigh. The warmth of his hand sends a shiver up your spine, but you do your best to keep your cool, not letting him see just how much his touch is affecting you.

You scoff with a half smile, “We’ll see about that.” 

Jungkooks grin widens sitting forward on his couch, both of his hands finding their way to your hips. Tracing small circles with his thumbs, making it impossible for you to think. The way he looks at you—intense, unflinching, like he’s trying to figure you out—has you second-guessing your plans  all over again, just for a second. This is what makes this hard, because the way he looks at you makes you believe every single word.

Many guys before have looked at you like this and you always fall for it, you always let yourself go for it. 

It’s a little difficult to remember that right now though, your mind is clouded by the wine. 

You glance down to his lap for a moment then back up to his eyes that haven’t left yours. “Can I?” 

Jungkook just nods, allowing you to take your place on his lap. Lifting your legs to either side of his hips. Jungkook really was not intending for this night to go this way but he wasn’t complaining if it had. He found you incredibly hot and would do whatever you wanted. His hands stayed planted on your hips as you found what felt comfortable. 

“You’re pretty.” He smiles boyishly, he really did find you gorgeous and would tell you again and again if it wouldn’t be weird. The compliment makes you blush and hum. 

“You’re pretty too.” You lace your arms around his neck. Both of your faces are coming so close together now. Breathes intermingling for a moment, asking the same question. “You were right though.” 

“About what?”

“I do want to kiss you again.” You catch the slight hitch in Jungkook's breath at your words, the way his fingers tighten on your hips, grounding you even as your heart races. His eyes flicker from your mouth to your eyes, searching your face as though he’s almost afraid this moment might slip away.

“I’m not one to protest.” Jungkook swallows for a moment, before you took no time to close the distance between you. Pressing your lips against his soft but certain. Jungkook immediately responds tilting his head to deepen it. One of Jungkook's hands sliding up your back to bring you closer to him. The moment makes you forget everything else, as you slide your tongue into his mouth. 

For a moment, you allow yourself to sink into it, into the surprising tenderness of his touch, the quiet intensity of his kiss. You move your hands to cup his face, relishing in how warm you are now. You felt your whole entire body heat up, and small wetness in between your legs. Oh this was not good, you cannot sleep with him this soon. 

Oh he probably knew exactly what he was doing though.

He would know exactly where to touch you and exactly how to make you moan and you had very little issues with wanting to let him do that. It would be so worth it, it would be so good. Except it cannot go past this, for your sanity at least. You needed to cut this off somehow, expect you kind of lead the night here. His tongue in your mouth was making it incredibly difficult to be logical. You could feel him probably already getting a semi and you really could not stop thinking about grinding on him. 

You needed to stop though. Because this is a great opportunity to drive in that wedge between the two of you. One more way to mess this situationship up, but not ruin it completely.

As you pull away from him, leaving his lap, you mutter, “Okay… Goodnight.” You force yourself to stand, feigning nonchalance as you gather your things, even though every cell in your body is screaming at you to turn back around. Jungkook is left blinking at you, visibly caught off guard, his hands awkwardly suspended in the air where your hips just were. He clears his throat, collecting himself as he scrambles to follow you.

Clearing his throat. “Hey… um woah… was that not good or whatever?” 

You pick up some of your stuff into your arm, “It was, it was good. It was great.” 

Oh god it was great, he was a really good kisser and your whole body was screaming at you to go back but you fought through. 

Jungkook was confused by your answer and shook his head, as he continued to follow you, “Did… did I misread something? Because I was getting a vibe.”

You glance over your shoulder and manage to flash a casual smile. “No, you didn’t misread anything. I just… don’t usually sleep with someone on the second date. Kind of a rule.” You bite your lip, keeping the truth of it hidden.

“Oh.” Jungkook nods, a look of relief mixed with mild confusion crossing his face as he adjusts his shirt. “Right, totally. Cool cool cool. That’s more than okay and Makes sense, makes sense… you should have said something.”

“It’s a bit of a mood killer to say ‘hey, by the way, you’re not getting any,’ don’t you think?” You raise an eyebrow, suppressing a grin.

You gather your things, amused by his honesty, and start toward the door. Jungkook trails behind you, letting out a small puff of air as he stares at the floor. Then, after a beat, he glances up with a sly grin. “So… just out of curiosity, not trying to be weird or anything, but what date number are we talking about here? Fourth, fifth…?”

You can’t help but laugh at his question, knowing full well he has no idea you’re just messing with him. “Higher.”

He frowns, looking genuinely curious now. “Sixth?”

“Nope.”

“Seventh?” He leans in closer, eyes narrowed like he’s reading the answer off your face.

“Higher.”

“Okay, when do you usually?” 

You cross your arms, “Twelfth.” 

Jungkook’s face barely changes, but you can see his jaw tighten just a little as he processes this. “Twelve… dates.” he repeats slowly, nodding as if he’s mentally mapping it out. “I mean, sure. That’s totally reasonable. Not a problem.”

“Really?” You ask, surprised at his lack of pushback.

Yeah.” He shrugs, putting on a confident smile. “Guess I just have to plan ten more killer dates.”

“Uh huh. I’ll believe it when I see them.” Jungkook then opens the front door for you. 

“You're going to keep me on my toes aren’t you?” He watches you slowly step out the door with a wide grin on your face. He finds it cute and playful, he could tell you liked the chase. 

“Goodnight Jungkook.” You say in a sing song voice, giving him a flirtatious wave as you walk up the hallway to his elevator. 

Before you could get too far Jungkook decided to leave with just one last thing. Trotting up the hallway so he could catch you, taking your wrist and stopping you. “One last thing.” 

Jungkook places a hand on your cheek and then kisses you. It surprises you but you welcome him, its one of those kisses that is so passionate and it makes your knees want to buckle out from under you in response. He uses just a little bit of  tongue to send a shiver through your whole body, his hand warm against your cheek as he continues to kiss you just long enough to make you lose track of the hallway, the elevator, and everything else. 

When he finally pulls back, his eyes are twinkling with that trademark cockiness, but there’s something softer underneath, something that makes your heart do an unwelcome little flip. He grins, his hand lingering on your cheek for just a moment longer before letting go. “Goodnight.”

He goes back into his apartment as you retreat to the elevator. As you ride down, you let out a shaky breath, trying to process what just happened, and trying even harder to remind yourself why you’re supposed to be making him miserable. But as your lips still tingle from his kiss, you’re the one who is being thrown off balance now. This was continuing to prove to be difficult.

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Day 6

Jungkook is floating on air as he gets through his next work day. So much so Hoseok has taken notice of Jungkook's change in attitude. Really his whole attitude had been different all week. Not that he was particularly grumpy before or even usually in a bad mood, but he was in a good mood. 

It was Friday night, and the familiar hum of the weekend buzzed in the air as Jimin and Taehyung once again convinced Jungkook and Hoseok to come out for a night of fun. Jungkook had been hesitant, his thoughts lingering on you. He’d been so busy lately, and while the dates had been great, there was something about tonight that made him want to see what plans you had before fully committing to the night out. But eventually, he decided he should just go—time with his friends, after all, was good too. Plus, there was that whole bet to think about, and he had a chance to subtly show Jimin and Taehyung how smoothly things were going with you.

When Jungkook and Hoseok arrived at the booth, they were greeted with their usual boisterous energy. Taehyung raised his glass, grinning widely. “Look who it is!” He said, motioning to the empty seats. As they sat down, the drinks flowed easily, and the conversation began to buzz.

However, Jimin and Taehyung had something else on their minds—Jungkook’s unusually good mood. While their conversation about random topics picked up, they were both trying to pinpoint exactly what had changed in him.

“So,” Jimin leaned forward, his voice a bit more teasing than usual, “what’s going on with you tonight? You’ve been, like, way too chill. It’s freaking me out.”

Jungkook paused for a moment, a little taken aback by the sudden observation. “What do you mean?”

Jimin gestured at him with a mock-serious face, “You're usually the one trying to take the night to the next level . Trying to make things more interesting. Tonight, you're just sitting here, all calm, looking like you’re, I don’t know, at peace or something?”

Taehyung chuckled at the thought, leaning in with a grin. “Yeah, what happened to the Jungkook who was out here doing whatever it took to keep things fun and exciting? You usually make sure the whole night has a direction. Right now, you’re, like... engaged in our conversation about cyber-security. That’s... not you.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, trying to play it cool, but he could feel the pressure mounting. He knew his friends had caught on to something, but they didn’t know why he was acting different. “I’m just… having a good day.” His voice light and casual. “Nothing wrong with that, right?”

Hoseok snorted next to him and Jungkook gave him a side eye. 

“You definitely would have gotten someone’s number by now but your eyes have been glued on us or on your phone this whole time.” Taehyung added on, which was usually true but Jungkook was glued to his phone. Hoping maybe he would see another text from you, secretly. Casually, in a totally normal way. 

“So what gives?” Jimin pokes Jungkook in the arm. 

“It’s nothing.” Jungkook shrugged and took a sip of his drink. 

Hoseok rolled his eyes, “It’s Y/N. The girl you set him up with for this stupid bet.” 

“Oh.” It all clicked into place for the both of them but it was still weird, “She totally see through your act yet?” 

Jungkook was caught off guard, the question cutting deeper than he expected. He shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “Actually,” He began, his voice softening, “no. We had a really nice date last night. There is nothing to see through, I’ve been completely genuine.”

“Oh, really?” Jimin raised a skeptical eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips.

Hoseok, who had been mostly observing, finally chimed in with a sigh. “He’s been in such a good mood about it all day, I’ve actually been avoiding him.”

Jungkook shot him a glare, nudging his arm. “So that’s why you were dodging me earlier?”

Hoseok shrugged, chuckling. “Sorry, man, I just couldn’t listen to you go on about Y/N again today.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, glancing back at Jimin and Taehyung. “You guys are acting like it’s such a big deal. It’s just… going well.”

Taehyung raised a skeptical brow, his tone a bit annoyed. “So, you’re hitting it off?”

Jungkook smirked, raising his glass. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

That earned a laugh from Jimin and Taehyung. “Yeah, right.” Jimin scoffed, shaking his head.

“All I’m saying,” Jungkook replied, his smirk widening, “is you two better get your wallets ready. In 24 days, you’re going to owe me big time.”

With a final grin, Jungkook set his glass down and excused himself, heading off to the bathroom. As soon as he was out of earshot, Jimin leaned closer to Hoseok, lowering his voice. “Okay, is it actually going well, or is he just messing with us?”

Hoseok took a sip of his drink, letting the suspense hang in the air for a moment before answering. “All I’ll say is… he sent flowers.”

Jimin’s jaw dropped, and Taehyung’s eyes widened. “Flowers?” They exchanged looks of disbelief, struggling to picture Jungkook—who hadn’t done more than text after a night out for years—sending flowers.

“What kind?” Taehyung asked, still dubious. “If they were just roses, it might’ve been for show.”

Hoseok gave an exasperated look. “Sunflowers. They’re her favorite.”

Jimin blinked in disbelief, his jaw still halfway dropped as he processed Hoseok's words. “Sunflowers?” He repeated, as if the specific flower choice made it even more surreal. “You’re telling me Jungkook not only sent flowers but remembered her favorite kind?”

Hoseok nodded, his expression one of mild amusement. “It’s like he’s on some kind of mission. Didn’t even blink when he mentioned it either—used it as his way to get the second date they had this week.”

Taehyung shook his head, laughing under his breath. “I don’t know who this new Jungkook is, but he’s full of surprises. Sunflowers? That’s not just impressive; that’s borderline romantic.”

“Borderline?” Jimin laughed, still trying to wrap his head around it. “He’s gone full-on romance novel, and for someone he’s been seeing for, what, a week? This has to be the longest he’s been interested in anyone, like, ever.”

Taehyung let out a low whistle, chewing on his lip as he processed the surprising information. “Damn. This is serious.”

“Yeah,” Hoseok said with a small smile, finding some pride in a changed Jungkook. “So he’s not wrong when he says you guys are going to owe him. He’s actually putting in the effort.”

Jimin and Taehyung exchanged a look, stunned but slightly impressed. Watching Jungkook send flowers, remember favorites, and put his best foot forward was new—and honestly? They both knew they might just end up eating their own words. Which made them think, was there a way for them to slow this down, make it come to a halt?

It wasn’t an insane amount of money for either of them to lose, but it was much more entertaining to see Jungkook lose. Was there something they could do to mess this up but in a non asshole way?

If they didn’t, Jungkook was going to win the bet, but it had already become much more than a bet at this point for him.

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[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Twenty-Five

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: Physical injury (i.e., Rhys and Cassian recovering post-Koschei), fluff, mating ceremonyyyyyyyyy (y'all I'm so excited I got so emotional writing this one)

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

It was strange how the absence of things could be so obvious. How silence could be more obnoxious than a crowded room. 

Three weeks had passed since Koschei’s death, and everyone was afraid to bring attention to the glaring absence of Cassian’s arm and Rhysand’s wings. 

At every meal, Nesta carefully cut up the Lord of Bloodshed’s food, and every night, Rhysand winnowed up to his bedroom. He no longer needed a wheelchair to move around, but walking up the stairs was a battle he won only half the time.

Azriel’s shadows were still missing. Gone to the wind. But their whispers grew in strength each day and Azriel would strain his ear to hear them. It gave you both hope that they’d return in time. 

“Daddy.” 

Rhysand froze halfway up the stairs, leaning against the wall with his legs crossed at the ankles. He subtly hid his hand behind his back, concealing the cane he relied on to walk around his own home. 

“Yes, Nyx.” 

The boy stood with his mother, her hand resting gently on his shoulder. Her wings were on full display, as were Nyx’s, in preparation for their daily flying lessons. For the first time, Rhysand would be unable to join them.

“We’re going flying. Do you… do you want to watch?” Nyx smiled shyly, one arm wrapped around his mother’s leg as he stared at the ground. “I can finally summon my wings during free fall. Just like we practiced.”

Rhysand strained to smile. “Go ahead with your mother. I’ll join you on the balcony soon.” 

“Ok,” the boy murmured and walked down the hall towards his parents’ bedroom. 

Feyre moved to be with her husband, her wings disappearing in a melting of light. She gently cupped his face in her hands. 

“It’s ok, my love,” Rhysand whispered, kissing her palms. Feyre smoothed back the swoop of hair that fell over his forehead. The strands were damp with sweat. “I don’t want you to keep Nyx waiting.” 

“Nyx is a patient boy. More patient than his father.” 

Rhys chuckled, blinking away tears. It was silly to hide these emotions from Feyre — she felt everything he did — but he wanted to at least try to be strong. To be her equal. Her High Lord. 

“Take your time, Rhys.” Her lips brushed against his and a piece of that ache in his chest fizzled out. It was incredible how his mate and wife could ease his burden with such a small touch. “I’ll be waiting with our son.” 

The moment Feyre disappeared into their bedroom and shut the door, Rhysand snapped his cane in half. Wood splinters flew out, embedding themselves in the wall and in the staircase, and he threw what remained down the stairs. 

Feyre, with all her love and patience, gave him the space to be angry. To grieve. But it helped her to know that Cassian, Azriel, and Emerie were already on their way. 

Rhysand made it to the third floor landing without his cane before the pain in his back became impossible to ignore. He sank to the floor. 

“Rhys—” The trio crowded around him. 

“Don’t say a fucking word, Cass.” They froze beside him, tucking their wings in tight. “I used to think the steps to the House of Wind were hard. Now I can’t even climb the stairs in my own fucking house.”

He hated this. He hated this with a burning passion. He was meant to be High Lord. He should have been at Feyre’s side, shaking out his wings and getting ready to taste the wind with his son. Instead here he was, sweat-soaked and shaking in front of his brothers and Emerie. 

After his mother and Selene’s death, he’d promised himself he would never lose his wings. They were a physical reminder of his Illyrian heritage. A heritage which so often went unseen beneath the veneer of a High Lord. Decades spent Under the Mountain had only cemented that promise in blood and salt. 

Amarantha may have stolen many things from him, but she’d never taken his wings. She’d never touched them. She’d never even seen them. 

Poison-laced calls of Amarantha’s whore and half-breed had always paled in comparison to the freedom of flying. A freedom he no longer had. 

“I’m not an Illyrian anymore,” Rhysand whispered grimly. The muscles in his back rolled, and even that small movement sent a thread of pain down his spine.  

Cassian and Azriel were stunned into silence. But not Emerie. Her gaze was too piercing, her tone too frank and unrelenting as she said, “My mother died without her wings.” 

Rhysand looked up at the female, slender and sharp as a blade. 

“At thirty-seven years old her father took a butcher’s knife and hacked them off before burying them in the snow just outside Windhaven.” She cocked her head to the side. “Tell me, was she not an Illyrian then?” 

“That’s not what I meant,” Rhysand said pathetically. 

“It’s exactly what you meant. But you’re wrong. Your wings don’t make you an Illyrian, Rhys. If they did, myself and over half the females in those camps would have been banished from Illyria a long time ago.” 

There was a silence that followed, tense and filled with guilt until Emerie spoke again. 

“Do you know what they say about you in the camps? And I’m not talking about the males who whisper half-breed behind your back.” 

Rhysand took his head. 

“The young females whisper about the day you’ll find them worthy enough to steal away to Velaris — to your precious city you’d never let come to harm. They talk about the shops they’d get to see with the frosted cakes in the windows and the enchanted houses where they wouldn’t have to slave away over a stove or wring towels until their hands bled. That one day, you’ll recognize that they’re dreamers too who’ve only had their worst nightmares come true. The older ones are wiser than that. They don’t talk about escaping to a city they don’t know and don’t love, surrounded by strangers who might call them lesser-fae. They build their lives in the cold, and when the males come to burn it down, they either endure and build it up again, or they fight back however they can.” 

Emerie regarded him carefully, eyes halting on his violet eyes and the sharpness of his ears. 

“Wings don’t make you an Illyrian,” she repeated, “It’s in your blood. It’s what you're born into and the hands that raise you. Never say “I’m not an Illyrian” again, do you understand me?”

Rhysand swallowed the burning lump in his throat. Touched the short tips of his ears and wiped the tears gathering in his violet eyes. 

“Azriel, could you—could you bring me my cane? Please?” 

His brother walked down the steps without hesitation and retrieved the broken halves. 

It was a thing of beauty and strength, carved from ironwood and stained so dark it may as well have been sliced from a night sky. Rhysand put the two pieces together and closed his eyes. 

It was easy, miniscule magic to put the cane back together and far more difficult a feat to stand upright once again. He might have toppled backwards if not for Emerie. She gave him her shoulder to lean against.

“Still an Illyrian,” he murmured. 

It was a promise to himself and to his family. To the three Illyrian warriors who had found him. 

“Still an Illyrian.” Emerie patted his arm. “I understand you’ll still feel some self-pity for a while. It’s natural, but… try not to do it in a room I’m in.” 

“I can do that.” Rhysand leaned against his cane, limping towards his bedroom where his mate and son were waiting. “Oh and Emerie.” She turned her head towards him. “Thank you.” 

“Do you want me to just cut it for you?” 

“No, I like the way Nesta does it.” 

“Since when did you get so picky?” 

“Since I lost my fucking arm, Mor.” 

You snorted into your glass of wine and Azriel smiled as the pair continued bickering. He kept one hand under the table, rubbing small circles into your thigh. It wasn’t until Nesta decided to grace the early morning with her presence that Cassian turned his attention away from Mor, drawing Nesta down for a kiss. 

A fresh bruise painted his cheekbone purple, pink, and blue. 

Nesta gripped Cassian’s chin, turning his face to the side for a better look. “Who did this?”

“Emerie,” he said cheerfully. His grin was brighter than the sun. 

Today was the first time he’d sparred with anyone since he lost his arm and Emerie hadn’t gone easy on him. On the contrary, she’d taken every advantage her two arms afforded her until Cassian felt more tender than a steak on a butcher’s board. He hadn’t been thrown on his back so many times since the mating frenzy. 

It was a dirty, cunning way of fighting and he’d never appreciated the Illyrian female more. 

Nesta smirked at her friend with a glint in her eye that looked suspiciously like gratitude. 

Emerie only shrugged. She hadn’t experienced the same kind of loss that Cassian and Rhysand had, but she’d learned a great deal after her wing clipping. Carrying limbs that no longer worked was not so different from losing them entirely. It was all about a shifting of control and weight — about finding a new center of gravity and using weakness to your advantage. 

“Did you go easy on him?” Nesta asked. 

Emerie snorted. “Obviously not.”

“She fractured three ribs, but they’re healed now.” 

“Very nice.” 

Nesta settled down at her rightful seat beside Cassian and wordlessly cut up his breakfast. 

“Thanks, Nes.” 

“It’s the least I could do.” 

Cassian chuckled and pulled her close until she was nearly in his lap. “Don’t give me so much power, darling.” 

She huffed. “What power?”

“The power to win any argument in the future.” He stuck what remained of his right arm into the air and gave it a shake. It was a gentle, teasing reminder of who had cut it off in the first place. 

Nesta narrowed her eyes until they were two clips of ice. “Don’t make me regret letting you live.” 

“That’s much better.” 

Some people needed a gentle touch after horrible events, but there was nothing gentle about Cassian. He’d been born with the wild in his blood. He knew how to adapt and survive, and if surviving meant he would lose his arm and get more time with his mate, it was a trade he was more than happy to make.

Azriel seemed to be in agreement. He never took his eyes off you. More interested in seeing your reaction than hearing which comment had brought it to life.

Feyre nudged Rhys, eyes wide and eyebrows raised as she looked back and forth from her mate to you and Azriel. 

Now? Rhys asked. 

Yes, now! They’ve been staring at each other for the last thirty minutes. It’s honestly unnerving... Do you think they’ve already accepted the bond?

There’s no way in hell. We would have known. 

Azriel’s terribly good at keeping secrets. 

The fact that they haven’t been missing the last few months is proof enough. 

All the more reason to bring this up now so we can finally put them out of their misery. 

Feyre shot to her feet at the head of the table and Rhysand scrambled to attention after  her. 

“It has come to our attention that we never did say congratulations to a special couple in this room.”

“Oh gods,” Azriel muttered. 

Your face turned warm as everyone’s eyes and grins fell upon you and your mate.

“You didn’t think we forgot about your mating bond, did you?” Gwyn teased. 

“We were kind of hoping you had,” you said. “Not that we aren’t happy or—” You glanced over at Azriel. 

The first night you’d woken up in the Dawn Court you’d tried to crawl into his bones — an odd mixture of desperation and longing urging you to have your way with one other. Now, you were embarrassed to think that the first thing you’d tried to do after nearly dying, was sleep with your mate. 

Azriel smiled, bending towards you like a flower seeking sunlight in silent encouragement. It was such a small, natural gesture, and one that everyone noticed. Which also meant they clocked the blush on your cheeks as you gripped Azriel’s hand under the table. 

You cleared your throat. “We weren’t sure it was a good time with everything going on. We thought it might be wise to wait before—” 

“No more waiting!” Cassian declared, slamming his fist against the table so hard the silverware bounced. “I swear to the fucking gods, if you’re not in the frenzy by the end of the week, Y/n, I’ll have you force feed Azriel myself.” 

“We agreed we’d be gentle in our approach,” Elain reminded him. 

“There was a plan in place for this?” Lucien sputtered. “And you were a part of it?” 

She scoffed and lightly slapped his arm. Elain was a gentle, lovely creature when she wanted to be, and nothing melted her heart more than a good love story. 

“I think we are in need of a celebration,” Vassa whispered. It was the first collection of words the firebird had spoken in months. 

She’d sat for every meal at Lucien’s side completely silent. But this time, she reached a hand across the table and slid it into yours, squeezing tightly. Flashes of memory passed behind her eyes — memories of Jurian.

They weren’t fae. A mating bond was never in the cards for them. Which was why she felt strongly that you should be greedy with the time you had together. For there was no telling when it would end.

You sucked in a breath. You’d spoken at length about this with Azriel, tossing ideas back and forth during the night when the bond made your blood sing for more contact with the Shadowsinger. More touches.  

But you’d agreed that it was inappropriate to have even a private mating ceremony when everyone was hurting. To abandon them and disappear into the frenzy. 

Perhaps you’d both been wrong. 

Given how quick everyone was to swarm you and Azriel, you were definitely wrong. 

Rhysand hobbled over with his cane, kissing your cheek with a loud, obnoxious smack before aggressively disheveling Azriel’s hair. 

“The cottage—” Azriel began.

“I’ll have it finished by tonight.” Rhysand promised. 

Cassian threw his one good arm around Azriel’s shoulder, tugging him out of his chair and towards the door on a mission. Poor Lucien was also coerced into joining whatever debauchery Cassian had planned for their afternoon. He sulked after the pair with Rhysand. 

Nesta, Feyre, and Mor crowded around you, already deliberating which of the many-frequented boutiques in Velaris they would need to visit for your mating ceremony attire. 

You were positively overwhelmed by the attention and the realization that this was all happening. 

By midnight, you would be mated to the love of your life. 

Azriel slipped out from under Cassian’s arm, racing back across the room and falling to his knees. “I need a moment with you.” He breathed, thinly-veiled hunger in his eyes. 

One nod was all it took before he was guiding you to the kitchen and slamming the door on everyone’s whistling. 

Azriel pressed you against the kitchen door, chest heaving so hard you could feel every beat of his heart against your chest. 

You’d both been holding back with each other ever since returning to the Night Court. Propriety and respect for his brothers had demanded you wait to express your love and wanting. You didn’t want to slap them in the face with joy. 

But now that you had everyone’s overwhelming approval, well… Azriel was finding it nearly impossible to wait even a moment longer. 

He pressed his lips to yours and didn’t let go of his soft grip on your waist until you were both gasping for breath. But then you kissed him back, swallowing his sighs and gentle groans like there was honey on his tongue. Sweet and addictive and—

Rhysand rudely knocked on the door, his sultry voice a purr. “In the kitchen, Azriel? Really? I would have expected more from a gentleman like you.” 

“Fuck off, Rhys.” 

The High Lord chuckled, but slipped away all the same. 

Azriel grinned against your lips, your hands clasped together between your bodies. “I just wanted one last kiss before tonight.” 

“Tonight.” You nodded frantically. 

Tonight. 

You were doing this. You were really doing this. 

Then you realized what he’d said. “I won’t see you before then?”

“I don’t think the others will let us.” 

Your laughs rang in the air, bouncing off the kitchen cabinets like wedding bells. 

On the other side of your door you could feel everyone’s anticipation. And you couldn't keep them waiting much longer. They might just break down the door. 

“I’ll see you tonight.” You whispered before stealing one last kiss. 

“Tonight.” Azriel agreed. His breath curled around your ear, lips brushing against the tip as he promised, “Until then.”

Feyre, Nesta, Gwyn, Emerie, Elain, and Mor descended upon the Palace of Thread and Jewels, all too eager to heap your arms full of the most expensive lace money could buy. 

You were about to marry into the Night Court and had a High Lord father who needed to make up for centuries of fatherly absence. There was more than enough gold to throw around.

“What do you think of this?” Feyre asked, draping the pale blue silk over your shoulder.

The clothier’s shop was bustling in the late morning, but no one dared step foot into the private room your family was set up in. The enchanted curtain blocked out all noise — tthe pinnacle of privacy.

You stood alone on a low platform, swishing the skirts of your dress and imagining what the finished product might look like. 

Farron, the clothier, had been quick to stitch a muslin mock up of the design you’d chosen, knotted fingers shocking in their dexterity as needle and thread disappeared and reappeared in her hand like some trick of the eye. She hadn’t even taken your measurements. One spin with your arms outstretched and she’d set about cutting the exact length of material needed for your mating ceremony gown. 

It was no wonder that she was Rhysand’s preferred clothier.

It still felt like a dream. Some wonderful, impossible dream as you took in the sight of the fabric over your chest. 

It glistened like moonlight and flowed like river water.

“Feyre, it’s perfect,” You breathed, touching the silken threads beneath your fingertips. 

“An excellent choice,” Farron said with a smile. She stood dutifully off to the side, tortoise-rimmed glasses growing her eyes to bug-like proportions.

You were a lovely thing in her eyes. A fine match for the Shadowsinger, indeed. 

Now, no one had told her that that was the cause for celebration. But she’d been clothing the Night Court males for a long while and knew them like the back of her hand. And you? You were made for the Shadowsinger. That much was clear. 

It was from centuries of experience that she classified the soft parting of your mouth and wide eyes. It was the look mates and brides alike adopted when they’d found the perfect dress. The one that would make them feel as perfect and precious as a pearl.

Your brows furrowed in concern. “My mating ceremony is tonight. Will it be ready by then?”

“Pfffft.” The clothier slapped her chest indignantly. “It will be ready in three hours time. You can return once after you’ve finished your shopping and we’ll have a final ceremony look ready for you, my dear.” 

With a dress being sewn together at Farron’s, Mor hurried you along to what she believed was the most critical part of any mating ceremony dress — the lingerie. The ordeal left a permanent blush on your cheeks as you quickly moved on to the shoemaker and then the jeweler. 

“Which one did you decide on?” Mor asked once again. She trailed at your heels, resting her chin on your shoulder as you kept your wares clutched to your chest. 

“I’m not telling you.” 

“Why not?” She whined. Red fingernails grazed the tissue paper that peaked out from the edges of the lingerie box. 

“Because that is for Azriel to know, and only Azriel,” you said, snatching the box out of her grasp. 

Nesta laughed. “What does it matter which pair she’s picked? It’s not like it will survive the first night of the frenzy.” 

Your cheeks burned with color. 

Mor giggled at your shyness. “Don’t act coy now, Y//n. We all know what you four read in your free time.” 

“Don’t act like you don’t benefit, love.” Emerie teased, squeezing Mor’s hip. 

“I never suggested such a thing.” 

Gwyn gagged when they kissed and everyone broke apart into fits of laughter in the streets, leaning against shoulders and stumbling on the cobblestones as they caught their breath. 

You were pressed in on all sides by familiar bodies, a comforting mixture of perfumes, and the sounds of laughter.

It’s happening. It’s really happening. 

Your grin could have put the sun to shame as you bounced on your heels in front of the mirror. 

Pale blue silk dipped down to the center of your chest and fell off your shoulders like mist. Wide, airy sleeves hovered at your elbows, ending in curls of hand-woven lace. A pair of ribbon-tie shoes and ear-tip cuffs completed the ensemble. 

They were both blue for Azriel — for your mate — who currently stood awestruck by the door. 

You didn’t startle when you caught a sliver of his reflection in the mirror. In fact, you were rather pleased to see his slack jaw and glistening eyes. 

“What do you think?” You asked as Azriel slipped out from the darkness and into your old bedroom. 

You hardly stepped foot in here anymore. Azriel’s bedroom had solidly become yours. Your clothes were mixed in with his. Your perfume bottles and soaps lined his bathroom. Your scent was tied to his bed, or rather your bed. 

“I think… I think you’re a dream, Y/n.” He spoke with a sigh. 

He melted into the curve of your neck, hands ghosting over your shoulders with a feather-light touch. 

He shook his head, as if disappointed. 

“No,” he corrected himself, “You’re far better than a dream because you’re real, and I can’t believe you’re mine.” 

“I could say the same about you,” you whispered. 

You leaned back against his chest and breathed deeply, feeling your heart soothe itself to the rhythm of his breathing and the scent of mountain air and cedar trees. 

He was beautiful. Black velvet encased his broad shoulders, cutting out a silhouette of pitch black night and highlighting the glow of his hazel eyes — like two chips of amber aglow in a dark wood. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from staring and threading your fingers into his soft, black curls, eliciting a soft groan from his lips that had your blood stirring to life. 

“I thought we were supposed to meet downstairs.” 

Azriel smiled. “I selfishly wanted to be the first to see you.” 

“That’s not selfish at all,” You hummed. You began tracing the gold cuffs that spanned the length of his ears and the subtle embroidery at the wrists and front of his shirt. They were distinctly Day Court fashions, and he wore them well. “These are new.” 

“I may or may not have reached out to your father for advice when picking out my clothes.” 

“I like them. Day Court colors suit you. They bring out the gold flecks in your eyes.” 

Azriel smiled, kissing the curve of your ears and playing with the sapphire necklace clasped around your neck. The drag of metal and fingertips over your chest had you shivering.  

You gently tugged at his hair and he obeyed the unspoken command to lean down and capture your lips in a kiss. Soft sounds spilled from both of you as he walked you back towards the wall and gently pressed you against it, flatting his hands by the sides of your head. 

Azriel got lost in the taste of you. Your hands in his hair. The feeling of your hips flush against his. Every movement was subtle, but eager, in its wanting and Azriel knew that when he finally had you beneath him, he’d be ruined… If he wasn’t ruined already. 

There was another reason he’d wanted to see you first before relinquishing you to the formalities of a mating ceremony. 

He’d been on edge all day, unused to being the unbridled center of attention among his brothers. Cassian was brash and loud, Rhysand flirtatious and passionate. Even Lucien radiated an undeniable charisma that made him popular within crowds. 

But Azriel had always prized quiet and peace above all else. He wanted to feel that peace again. 

The bond rose within him like high tide, spilling color and light into his chest as you pressed your forehead against his and cradled the curve of his neck. 

He breathed deep and he breathed freely, feeling something in his soul mend itself with a roll of anticipation. A tendril of cold wrapped around his ear and whispered in a language only Azriel could understand.

Too long, master. It’s been too long.

Azriel’s eyes flew open. He’d nearly forgotten the shape of their words — the language that he’d been taught to speak after years spent in the dark. Months of soft spoken words he could barely make out became a chorus of congratulations as they sensed the connection that now bound you and Azriel together. 

They’d known about it since the beginning, but now that you were also aware, they were ecstatic.

Black shadows spilled out from his skin, eagerly wrapping you up in a shell of twisting darkness. They embraced you, kissing your cheeks with cool, feathery touches. 

Azriel swallowed your laughter, hands diving down and lifting up your dress so he could squeeze your thighs and wrap your legs around him. 

It was a kiss made of teeth and longing and relief. With his shadows having returned and a mating bond ready to be accepted, Azriel felt invincible. Like he was cradling the world in his arms. 

But it was ended all too soon by a shadow in his ear that warned, They’re almost at the door. 

Gods he missed having them around. 

You gasped, picking up on the sound of Lucien and Helion’s strong footsteps coming towards the door. They were supposed to walk you downstairs before handing you off to your mate, and although Azriel had made leaps and bounds in earning their blessing you didn’t think they’d take kindly to seeing the Shadowsinger flush between your legs just before your mating ceremony. 

“Shit.” You hissed, untangling yourself from Azriel as he fixed your dress and struggled to hide his laughter. 

You pushed him backwards, masking both your scents and shoving him inside the wardrobe. 

“My Y/n, what are you doing?” Azriel asked. He needed to bend just to fit inside the empty wardrobe. His eyes glittered with amusement, shadows pooling around his wings. 

“I-I was going to try and hide you before my father and brother come inside but” — a handful of shadows curled around your wrists and ankles, intent on becoming permanent fixtures for as long as you were separated from your mate —  “I see that’s not necessary anymore.” 

Azriel grinned and pulled you in for one last kiss. “I’ll see you downstairs,” he whispered just as Lucien’s polite knock came at the door.  

“I’ll see you downstairs.” 

His shadows swirled around him and he melted into the darkness. 

Mating ceremonies were fluid, adaptable affairs. They could be as extravagant and public or as humble and private as one desired. It made no difference. You were his, and he was yours. Now and forever. 

You would have accepted the bond with Azriel in your father’s palace or in a desert wasteland. Still, you had to agree that home was best. 

The largest room in the River House — the dining room — had been cleared out for the purpose of your mating ceremony. Candlelight flickered atop the fireplace mantle where you, Azriel, and the priestess stood, and within sconces dripping with wisteria and baby’s breath along the wall. The light of a thousand lanterns, gauzy and warm, lit up the gardens outside the House.

“All kneel,” the priestess said, holding out two crowns of lavender and lilies of the valley. 

Everyone kneeled in a loose half-circle. 

Her dusty blue robes brushed against the floor as she placed the crown atop Azriel’s head and then yours. At her instruction, you shifted on the floor, facing each other with smiles that couldn’t be contained.

Azriel’s eyes burned bright, as if all the gold in the world had been distilled and dropped into them. 

You took the candles the priestess held out, holding them in your left hand and clasping together your right. 

Azriel snuck a quick kiss to your palm before the priestess could wrap your wrists and hands together with ribbons of blue and gold. She drifted her fingers over the candles and lit them with a flourish. 

Before the Mother, the priestess, and your family, you exchanged your vows. 

Secret glances passed between you and the Shadowsinger. Brief smiles tugged at the corners of your lips. Squeezing hands soothed your soul and grounded you in the present as you spoke the words together:

I give to you the hands of a warrior, lover, friend, and mate, till the darkness comes and our endings wake. 

I give to you my name, to hold on your lips and to pass on your years in hope and longing, in joy and tears.

Blood of blood. Bone of bone. I shall be yours, and you shall be mine. 

Until we return to the earth and hear the Mother’s song. Until the end of our days—

“Until death and beyond,” Azriel whispered the final vows. 

“Until death and beyond,” you replied. 

“Who the hell spilled the champagne!” 

The floor was already sticky with it, grabbing onto Rhysand’s shoes as he stepped out of the puddle. A guilty Feyre chugged the last dregs in the bottle, magicking away the spill with a snap of her fingers and a sultry wink towards her mate. She shrieked with laughter when Rhys limped over to her, collapsing around her shoulders and blowing kisses against her neck. 

Nyx sat at Amren’s feet on the floor, struggling to hold his violet eyes open as she scratched his head with her silver-tipped nails. Amren was not one for parties and regarded the room with bored eyes. 

Mor sat in the seat of honor — Emerie’s lap — whispering gossip in the Illyrian’s ear as you and Azriel tried to make yourselves sparse in the corner. 

You were half-hidden behind Azriel’s wings as he leaned his head against your shoulder. Leave it to you two to hide at your own mating ceremony. 

Lucien and Elain drank wine by the kitchen. She left her hand comfortably on his upper arm and smiled when he tucked a strand of wavy brown hair behind her ear. They were a handsome couple — all pale colors and golden gazes, like sunshine spilling over a new day. 

Helion, entertaining as always, dazzled the group that had assembled around him composed of Gwyn, Feyre, Rhysand, Cassian, and Nesta. Every so often his bright eyes would land on you and he’d wink before pointing threateningly in Azriel’s direction. 

Azriel’s shoulders shook with silent laughter and he dipped his lips to your ears and asked, “Do you think he’ll ever approve of me?”

“He already approves of you, he just doesn’t want you to know.” 

“He’s a smart male for keeping such a secret. My ego may grow too big for you to handle if he compliments me outright.” 

“Didn’t he once invite you to his bed?”

“That’s not very special coming from Helion.” 

You burst out laughing, attracting everyone’s attention as you buried your face in Azriel’s chest to stifle the noise. He laughed aloud as well. Head thrown back, chest and shoulders shaking. It was a full-bodied laugh that harmonized with yours as he wrapped his arms around you and rubbed your back. 

Azriel’s laughter had once been a rare sound, but you drew it out of him so easily, like a musician with their instrument. 

Feyre grinned and clapped her hands together. All at once the dining room rearranged itself. The candle flames grew brighter. A table laden with food and chairs popped into existence. 

For such a special occasion, you and Azriel sat at the head of the table, subtly leaning against one another with your legs tangled beneath the tablecloth as you ate.

There was a cake still waiting to be cut in the kitchen — a cake that you’d baked with Azriel’s name written all over it in invisible ink. 

Nyx twisted around in his chair, eyes utterly fixated on the seemingly endless rows of lanterns glowing in the garden. 

“Mom.” Nyx tugged on Feyre’s wrist as she cleaned his cheek. “When will I get to float the lanterns?” 

Feyre looked to you and Azriel. 

The lanterns were an old Day Court tradition. On the longest night of the year, Day Court citizens dared to step outside into the dark and light up the sky with their own sun-painted lanterns. It was a way to keep the darkness at bay for a little while longer. A time to add your own light to the night sky. 

“Now,” you smiled. “Let’s do it now.” 

You all spilled out into the gardens, cheering Nyx on as he raced ahead of everyone else with short, energetic strides. His wings flared out behind him, catching the name of the wind as it whispered against the velvety membrane. 

“Not yet!” Rhys reminded him. “You need to let your aunt and uncle go first.” 

You and Azriel picked up the largest lantern of them all, delicate rice paper crinkling as you held it up. The starburst-shaped lantern glowed faintly. A burning sun. A fallen star.

Everyone bent over in the flowers and grasses, hunting to find the second-best lantern for themselves. 

“This one’s for Velaria,” Nyx said, holding up a small, round orb. “This one’s for you, Daddy.” A pale lavender lantern was placed carefully in his father’s hand. “And this one’s for Mommy.” 

“Why thank you, honey.” Feyre bent low, kissing her son’s velvety black hair as she held Velaria in her arms. 

“Is everyone ready?” You called out. 

Cheers sounded from all around. Particularly energetic whoops came from Cassian and Mor, who tipped back their heads and howled like wolves, ready to throw their lanterns to the sky. 

Azriel tucked you beneath the curve of his wings and pressed a gentle kiss against your temple before you both let your magic seep into the lantern and sent it skywards. 

There was chatter from all sides. Soft gasps leaving open-mouth stares as a dozen lanterns started drifting upwards like miniature suns. 

“It’s all you, Nyx!” Azriel shouted. 

The boy leapt into action, finding the tallest patch of ground in the garden to make his directorial debut. He fixed the tilt of his bowtie and bent his knees. Slowly and dramatically he curled his fingers, raising his hands upwards like he meant to pull water out of the ground. 

He looked like an orchestra conductor leading his players in a great crescendo as the remaining one-thousand lanterns took off into the night sky. 

You gasped and flung your hands up to your lips. Three hundred and forty-three years you’d been alive, and this was the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen. 

You turned to Azriel only to find that he was already staring at you — at the light of a thousand suns reflected in your eyes. 

You found yourself proven wrong, and not for the first time. The lanterns were only the second most beautiful sight… and you wanted to see more.

Azriel read the idea forming in your mind and nodded. 

Without hesitation, you took his hand, slinking through the now darkening garden as everyone else’s attention was directed towards the sky. 

Lanterns arced through the darkness, staining the sky warm orange as if a painter had swept her brush over the black canvas. 

Shadows nipped at your heels and covered your tracks, urging you onward as you slipped back into the House and then the kitchen. 

You didn’t even bother cutting the cake. After rummaging around in the kitchen drawers for a spoon, you carved out a spoonful of chocolate cake with strawberries and a healthy dollop of whipped cream frosting — Azriel’s favorite. 

The Shadowsinger froze, eyes darting back and forth between the cake and your flushed face. Your eyes glowed in the dim light, marked by a quiet, otherworldly beauty Azriel had never been able to resist. 

“Don’t tell me you’re second guessing this now?” You breathed, moving the spoon closer to his lips. 

“I just… I just want to make sure I remember everything about tonight,” he whispered. 

He adjusted the crown of lavender and lilies on your head, picking up a loose flower petal that had drifted onto your bare shoulders. His touch was soft. Gentle. Reverent as he trailed his fingers up your neck and brushed his thumb along your jaw. 

His lips closed around the spoon, dragging off every crumb and lick of frosting while never taking his eyes off of you. 

It was probably a delicious cake, but all Azriel would remember was the taste of your lips that followed as he drew you to his body. 

When the bond had first snapped for him, he thought the world had cracked in two. Like the sharp clap of lightning across the sky. 

What followed after the sugar and chocolate melted on his tongue was the thunder — a resounding tremor as the bond glowed hot as iron before cooling into something permanent and unbreakable. 

Azriel let out a breathless noise. Something between a sigh and a shudder. He clutched your back, nails dragging lightly along your exposed skin in a way that had you melting. 

“I want to go. Now.” You rasped. 

You wanted him desperately. More than words could describe. 

Azriel scooped you up into his arms, and together you vanished into the shadows before anyone even realized you were missing.

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Author's Note:

Y'all, I just love Y/n and Azriel so much...

THEY FUCKING DESERVE A PROPER MATING CEREMONY LIKE DAMNIT THEY BOTH NEARLY DIED LIKE 3X AND YES I'M GOING TO WRITE A SEX SCENE NEXT CHAPTER, I DON'T CARE, THEY DESERVE THIS, Y'ALL DESERVE THIS FOR PUTTING UP WITH ME FOR THE LAST 6 MONTHS AND OVER 100K WORDS LIKE YOU ARE THE TRUE MVPs AND I APPRECIATE YOU IMMENSELY!!! (*but also, if you're not into reading smut scenes, I'll write the next chapter in such a way that you can just skip over it and not miss anything continuity-wise)

THANK YOU FOR READING!

We're almost at the end I've got like two chapters left, one of which is already mostly written, and maybe the epilogue will be it's own thing or part of the last chapter i don't know and just UGH it's almost over... ok i'm going to end this author's note here because I'm getting sad just thinking about this fic ending

^^ my reaction when I realize I've almost finished the longest/most intensive writing project in my life born out of love for the romantasy genre

^^ my reaction when I realize I've almost finished the longest/most intensive writing project in my life born out of love for the romantasy genre