#but on the plus side i already had to cancel all my plans cause of covid so i dont have to gout in it

[tennessoui]

bad news is i have covid, good news is it's snowing which has cured my covid symptoms and returned me to a state of child like wonder last felt by the granddad in charlie and the chocolate factory when charlie got that golden ticket :D

[chaeryybomb]

nct dream reaction to their idol!reader girlfriend being shipped with another idol

anon: nct dream reaction to their idol!reader girlfriend being shipped with some other idol :) love your works btw. and thank you for this in advance

pairing: nct dream x idol!reader

genre: headcanons, fluff, crack

warnings: mentions of insecurities

a/n: dhsjdj technically my requests are closed rn but I decided I would write this out so I hope you enjoy this!

mark lee

confused boi™

tbh he wouldn't even notice you were being shipped with another idol until another member points it out

you were a special guest mc for the show and fans saw the cute interactions you had with the boyz juyeon

and soon enough fans started shipping the both of you together

in reality, you and juyeon were just high school friends and you were glad to see him again

fans on the other hand,,

mark didn't realise you were being shipped with juyeon until doyoung pointed it one day

and mark was all like

( ・◇・)？"nani? y/n and juyeon???"

he would then search up ynjuyeon on twitter because cough yeah

and found a shit ton of edits of the both of y'all

and now he's sad :((

he's sad that because no one shipped y'all together

"isn't your relationship a secret???"

"yeah but still :((("

mark sweetie y'all have neve interacted on stage before fjdjdndnd

he knows you love him and would never cheat on him

but boy is he going to be a pouty baby when y'all hang out next time

literally all he's going to say is:

"why do they ship you and him together?? why not me :(("

"mark they've never seen us in the same room before"

huang renjun

unbothered king™

at least that's what he tells you fhdjdj

he found out through a vlive fhdhdjj

it was one of the usernames and the username was like ynxyanan_shipper

and renjun mf squinted his eyes like

did I read that clearly ಠ_ಠ

he's like yn and wHO

chenle was beside him when it happened and chenle was like what's wrong

and renjun points out the username

and chenle starts lauGHING BECAUSE HE FINDS IT SO FUNNY

renjun smacks him on the head to tell him to shut up DHHSHDD

obviously he would take a screenshot of the username and sends it to you

and he's like

short king <3: do you hv something to confess to me

you: ,,, my love for you??

short king <3: blocked

you: HAHSAHS IM KIDDING

tbh you find the situation honestly really funny

cause you and yanan aren't exactly friends? you're more of acquaintances than friends

and you made eye contact one (1) time with him by accident at an award show and suddenly you're being shipped with him

when you call him the next time to hang out, definitely expect him to be salty about it fjdjfjd

"hey are you free to come over today?"

"I don't know, why don't you ask your BOYFRIEND yanan"

"renjun istg i will break up with you-"

lee jeno

oh baby boy is gonna be so so confused

he's going to be even more confused because you're being shipped with itzy's chaeryeong fhfhfjf

see you and chaeryeong were featured in an episode of a reality tv show once

and the both of y'all immediately hit it off and your friendship was just adorable

so y'all kept interacting every time y'all see each other

and y'all are now nicknamed as the 4th gen gfs because y'all are so adorable???

like the chaeryn ship ur most popular ship ever

so jeno is so confused?? like why is his gf being shipped with her??

he's like a whole ass puppy okay

you, on the other hand, find the chaeryn ship really cute so you don't mind it and you jokingly call chaeryeong your gf once or twice on live before fjdjfn

whenever you tell him that you're hanging out with chaeryeong, he will pout at you and give you his best puppy eyes

like he will cling onto you and try to convince you to now to go

it works like 13% of the time and you would cancel plans with chaer but most of time it doesn't and you would end up being late jhdjsh

but it will slowly become into an inside joke between y'all

like yk that one meme

"this is yn my girlfriend and her girlfriend chaeryeong"

kjdhkjshfs yeah that

but in all seriousness, jeno is really unbothered about you being shipped with chaeryeong because it basically has the same energy as him being shipped with jaemin

whenever y'all are having play fights, you jokingly threaten to leave him for chaeryeong jdsfjds and he immediately stops and says that's unfair

pls shower him in hugs and kisses later

lee haechan

definitely makes a fuss about it

i mean he knows that you aren't going to leave him and all but is he going to be dramatic about it? yes, yes he is

he finds out by himself because he was probably on twitter stalking your hashtag

when he suddenly stumbles upon and edit of you and ateez's san

he's like O.O wot is tHis?

screenshots the edit and sends it to you

hyuckie: yNNNN

hyuckie: THE LOVE OF MY LIFE

hyuckie: BABY

hyuckie: SUGAR BUM

hyuckie: DAISY PIE

you: what in, the ever loving fuck, is daisy pie

hyuckie: *sends screenshot* ARE U CHEATING ON ME

you: hyuck that pic is clearly edited

hyuckie: I KNOW BUT ARE YOU????

you: i-

he makes so much jokes about it that you literally have to shut him up with a kiss

jokes on u reader he's doing this on purpose to get those free kisses

the jokes stop when you actually finally meet san during a game show and shippers are like omg they finally interacted

and the amount of ynxsan edits just,, grow

haechan acts even salty about it and whines about why fan don't ship y'all together when y'all have made eye contact during the golden disk awards bc he was being a lil shit hdsjhfjds

"hey what if i keep staring at you during the melon so we can get into a scandal?"

"hyuck this is supposed to be a secret relationship-"

"yeah but-"

jokes on u he actually does stare at you at the next award show and thankfully did not get into any scandals, but fans started to ship the both of you!

na jaemin

the true unbothered king

literally does not care that you are shipped with someone else

because he knows that he is yours and vice versa

and plus you love him a lot so

he finds out from chenle, who did it out of spite because one day chenle was bored and wanted to cause some chaos

boi basically ran up to jaemin to shove an edit of you and treasurer's junkyu together and went like

"look hyung! ur gf is being shipped with someone eLsE"

"oh that's weird"

"rigHT"

"I thought people shipped her with treasurer's hyunsuk"

chenle is like

HUH???

"aren't you like,, jeaolous??"

jaemin just shrugs and says "hmm, not really"

jaemin knows that you are good friends wth a lot of idols because you're a social butterfly

so he truly doesn't mind when you get shipped with other idols bc in the end , he's the one holding you in his arms

plus he knows the edits and shippers are mostly harmless

and he trusts you

so he just fucks around with chenle jkldsfj

chenle is still confused bc he wants to rile jaemin up for fun but failed hjdshf

zhong chenle

if you thought haechan was dramatic, then you better buckle up for chenle's

so you see

fans already shipped u and chenle

like

y'all already have a dating scandal

and both companies tried so hard to defuse it

see you are an mc for a music show and you were interviewing nct dream

chenle, being the lil shit he is, kept giving you the heart eyes the entire time

and 6 months later, y'all got caught by dispatch on a daTe

ofc both sides were panicking but chenle was enjoying bc he's like "yeah this is my s/o and what abt it"

but y'all still had a dating ban so sm was this close in kicking him hfdsjfh

fortunately, they were able to cover it up as someone else so there's that

so chenle is aware that fans shipped the both of you together

so when he sees you being shipped with stray kid's jeongin

he was like "HOW DARE THEY-"

calls you to complain about the ship for 3 hours

and that is how you found out as well-

literally you don't even know jeongin so you just let chenle complain about it

he goes on and on about why fans should continue to ship y'all together so when he reveals the relationship the fans will be surprised but also not really at the same time-

"should i get into another scandal with you?"

"chenle no-"

park jisung

oh baby boy is going to be very, very confused

i mean he knows that shipping is a thing between fans

he's just confused why ppl would ship you and p1harmony's keeho

like you have never interacted with him so why would fans ship the both of y'all??

the dreamies mostly tell him to not take it serious but the chenle and haechan would egg him on

"get into a dating scandal with them"

"guys no-"

he wouldn't tell you that it bothers him because he doesn't want you laughing at him, worrying over a small issue

so honestly, it lowkey eats him up on the inside

until one day, you basically force it out of him because he's been acting weird for the past week

he finally confesses about the what's bothering him

and you tell him that you wouldn't have laughed at him

you know shipping idols is a common thing in the industry and sometimes it's uncomfortable knowing it when you're already in a relationship

but you also tell him that it's basically harmless because fans can't really force the both of y'all together

jisung would be insecure about the relationship because it's kinda of his first? so he just doesn't want to mess it up

just reassure him a lot and tell him that you won't leave him

and as time goes by, he just gets used to the shipping

[artaefact]

a letter in roses.

—wordcount: 8k+

—genre: FLUFF, romance, CEO au, valentine’s day au, husband!taehyung

—pairing: kim taehyung x f reader ft. florist!hobi, baker!jimin & ???!jk

—rating: 18+

—warnings: cheesy fluff, taehyung wants the tea, taehyung is kinda a hazard in the kitchen, yeontan being a little rascal, suggestive themes, swearings

—summary: Since it’s the first time celebrating Valentine’s Day with you as his wife, Taehyung goes the extra mile of preparing something special for you. After all, he has managed to run a billion-dollar worth company. So, preparing handmade delicacies should be simple enough, right?

author’s note: this is part of the bangtan pastries collab hosted by @suhdays !! AND ALSO ____ and [Name] are two different ocs so hopefully it’s not confusing !! happy reading everyone 💖

© artaefact 2021. All rights reserved. Copying, reposting, translating, and modifying in any platform or by any means is NOT permitted.

Valentine's Day. The day where people spend time with their loved ones, either going out to celebrate or spending quality time together at home. Just anything to bring a smile to their loved ones' faces.

Taehyung used to question this annual occasion—a lot. What is truly the purpose of this day? Don't you have to make your loved ones happy all the time? What difference does it make to celebrate it on this "special" day and on a typical day? Or, in other words, it was a complete waste of time and energy—is what he used to say.

For many years, Taehyung's only companions on this day are paperwork, meetings, and... more paperwork. So, it's not surprising how disinterested he is at the thought of celebrating Valentine's Day.

But today, he barely can stifle his smile and contain his excitement throughout the morning conference. The minute when the meeting ends, he strides out of the room and heads straight back home.

His employees had stared at him in awe after he announced that everyone can leave work early today. Everyone wonders what has gotten Kim Taehyung so excited on Valentine's Day until they remember that he is, now, officially a husband. Taehyung no longer frequently locks himself in his office until past midnight dealing with documents and phone calls. Not when you're waiting for him at home. Sometimes he'd even cut his work hours short if he deems himself deserving just to see you faster.

Everyone can see how utterly in love the boss is with his wife. Just the mention of your name is enough to grace his usual stern expression with a soft smile.

So, it's not surprising that an annoyed sigh emits from Taehyung's lips when his work phone dings just as he steps out of the elevator on his penthouse floor. Taking out his phone, he reads an urgent message that some part of the meeting's presentation details have not been mentioned to him earlier. For once, Taehyung wishes work can give him a break. Today is supposed to be a special day, after all.

Shoving his phone back into his pocket, Taehyung walks into his home. Soft jazzy music plays from the living room, along with the tinge of coffee fragrance wafting in the air, ebbing his growing annoyance away. He takes off his dress shoes before entering even further, knowing full well how his wife would make him clean up if he stains the Persian rug you received as a wedding gift. With a pair of home slippers covering his feet, he emerges from the front hallway to the living room as he shrugs off his navy pinstripe suit jacket and loosens his tie.

Taehyung hears the rapid padding of pawsteps first as a fluffy friend appears out of the kitchen, greeting Taehyung with a woof and an excited wag of his tail, scampering to his owner. Smiling, Taehyung crouches to give Yeontan a backrub as the pomeranian revels at the affection.

After a few moments, he walks to the kitchen—Yeontan still excitedly following—where the smell of coffee grows stronger. He finds you sipping on your morning coffee and scrolling through your tablet—perhaps, reading the latest news—as you sit on the bar table of the kitchen.

Sensing his presence, your head turns to the doorway. “Hey, you're back.”

“Mhmm… Finished my meetings earlier today.” He closes the distance, giving you a kiss on the cheek. “You ate breakfast already?”

You nod. “Have you?” He shakes his head. “You go change, I'll whip up something for you.” You place your tablet down on the counter. “Are toasts and eggs, okay?”

He nods in response.

Standing up from the barstool, you are about to make your way to the counter when your husband stops you. “You haven't given me a kiss ever since I've arrived back home.” He pouts, arms circling your waist to keep you still.

You chuckle at his antics. Cupping his face between your hands, you place a chaste kiss on his lips. “There.”

“More please.” And you comply, placing another, and another…

You move your hands down, placing it on his chest when he releases his hold on your waist, cupping your face, finally giving you a deep kiss. Your heart is on the verge of bursting at the touch of his lips. Granted, you both shared kisses so many times, but each and every single one never fails to spread warmth in your chest. And you love to see his dazed expression or his bright smile afterwards.

After a few moments, you pull away, grinning. “Okay, go change.” Your smile so bright Taehyung just can't get enough as he still clings to you. “I have an appointment today before our dinner date.”

Taehyung raises a brow, now realising that you're dressed up. “Where might you be going?”

You simply poke his nose with a secretive grin. He pouts at your lack of response, watching you move behind the counter. You take out two slices of bread—putting them in the toaster—and eggs from the fridge.

With a soft smile on his face, Taehyung goes to the bedroom and freshens up, quickly changing to his usual home attire. He comes back to the kitchen donning a white shirt and a pair of shorts, finding you already setting up the plate on the counter.

He stops at your side, watching you place the scrambled eggs near the toast. Then the moment you're done, he wraps his arms around your shoulders.

“What's gotten into you today?”

“Can't I shower my wife with love?” He nuzzles his nose to the crook of your neck.

You laugh softly. “Alright, alright. Now, let me just—” You place the plate on the counter, Taehyung still embracing you. “—put this. And… Do you want strawberry juice?”

He nods eagerly. You open the fridge (yes, with Taehyung is still clinging to you) and take out the cut-up frozen strawberries before placing them in the blender and pouring some water.

“Go eat, baby.” You face him after turning the blender on. “I'll be with you in a minute.”

Taehyung gives you a kiss on the cheek then moves to sit on the bar table where you have placed his breakfast. After you place a glass of strawberry juice near him, you sit next to him.

“What are your plans for today?” You ask, resting your chin on one hand.

“Hmm…” He sits straighter, swallowing the food in his mouth. With a teasing smirk, he faces you. “Well, I was planning to spend the whole day with my lovely wife. But unfortunately, I can't do that until our dinner date.”

“Should I cancel my appointments today…?” You actually look worried, and Taehyung blinks.

“No!” He says almost too quickly. “I mean— It's okay, really. We'll have our dinner date. Plus, I have another meeting to attend to soon.”

“Thought you said you were done with work today?”

“Something else came up,” Taehyung sighs in annoyance, remembering the text he received earlier from one of his employees. “I have to make a few calls. But I wouldn't miss our first Valentine dinner date after our marriage.”

You chuckle. “Alright, I should call taxi—”

Taehyung stops you. “Y/N, you know you can use my chauffeur, right?”

“The taxi's fine—” You yelp as Taehyung tugs you close to him, causing you to nearly sliding off from your seat. Placing your hands on your husband's broad shoulders, you steady yourself.

“Love, call my chauffeur, hmm?” His voice turns low, and you fight back a shiver. “I know you're still getting used to this—” He motions towards the whole penthouse. “—but at least, let me make it easier for you today, yeah?”

Inhaling a sharp breath, you nod. “O-Okay.”

A sly grin decorates his pretty lips at your agreement. “Good.” Straightening yourself, you climb down the stool. Taehyung places a chaste kiss on your lips, and you are still in a daze at the sudden change of his demeanour. You walk out of the kitchen and reach the end of the hallway. While putting on your shoes, his face peeking from the living room, and he pipes, “Don't be late for dinner!”

When the front door closes, you place a hand on your chest — on top of your still pounding heart. You let out a breath, and a smile curls up on the corner of your lips.

I swear he's going to be the death of me.

After you leave, Taehyung is left alone to his own devices. He goes to his office space with Yeontan following on his trail. Turning his laptop on, he glares at the screen. Work seems to follow him wherever and whenever despite having worked his ass off. But he’ll ensure that nothing will ruin your date night today.

Taking a deep breath, he turns on his camera, not even bothering to change out of his home attire. Taehyung’s expressions have said it all as one of his company’s branch managers who messaged him fidgets on the screen under his stare.

“What else are we missing?” His voice like the calm before the storm. “I thought the meeting earlier today has been concluded.”

“I forgot that there are some things that…” The manager rambles on, and Taehyung can sense a headache looming.

Taehyung rubs his temple as the manager finishes prattling. Sitting up straighter, he advises, “I’m going to say this only once, you work in this position to oversee the marketing branch of my company. It is your job to ensure that all the little details for today’s meeting have been presented. So, this type of incident will not happen again. Do I make myself clear?”

The manager nods rapidly.

“Good,” Taehyung leans back on his leather chair. “Now, is that all?”

Again, the manager nods.

Finally.

After ending the call and answering a few more emails, Taehyung emerges out of the office room and plops down the couch with Yeontan in his arms. He stretches his neck to the right and left, ear to his shoulder. The pomeranian rests comfortably against his chest until the doorbell rings, surprising the poor dog.

Ah, Taehyung almost forgot. He coos at the stunned dog, a light giggle escaping his lips before putting Yeontan on the dog bed, right beside the living room’s couch. “Stay, I’ll be back.” Then he walks to the door, peeking through the peephole as a grin appears on his face. Opening the door, Jimin and Jungkook pop in with smiles on their faces.

“Hey man, long time no see.” Jimin wraps his arms around Taehyung, patting his back. “How’s it going?”

“It’s rare for you to call us nowadays,” Jungkook comments after giving Tae a hug as well.

“Yeah, I’ve been working my ass off.” Taehyung sighs and locks the door.

“Where’s Y/N?” Jimin emerges out of the hallway, and he crouches as Yeontan approaches him in the living room. “Hey, buddy. Long time no see.”

“What the hell? He’s grown so much, hyung.” Jungkook follows suit, petting the pomeranian and letting out the giggle when Yeontan playfully licks him.

Taehyung clears his throat. “Y/N is out for an appointment, and you guys need to help me.”

“Right,” Jimin stands up, recalling the text Taehyung sent him a few days ago. “So, I think we can finish in around three hours? It’s only six pastries—”

“One hundred forty three,” Taehyung corrects.

Silence.

Jimin blinks rapidly, processing his friend’s words. “Are you insane? We’ll need so much ingredients for that, and I’m guessing not even your gigantic kitchen can store—”

As if on cue, the doorbell rings again.

“Ah, it has arrived,” Taehyung muses, opening the door once more to reveal a delivery man with a cart full of packed grocery ingredients.

“Delivery for Mr Kim.”

“That would be me.” Taehyung signs the tablet before letting the delivery man unload the boxes. After a few minutes, the boxes are stacked near the hallway. Taehyung turns to his friends, “So, should we start?”

“Wait, are you seriously planning on baking a hundred forty three pastries?” Jimin’s expression still shows none other than horror. “That’s impossible.”

“But…”

“Nope,” Jimin shakes his head. “That won’t work. Not even if we have more people to help.” Taehyung’s shoulders noticeably droop. Jimin puts a comforting hand on Taehyung’s shoulder and adds, “Look, we can opt for a lesser number of pastries and arrange them. It’ll look great! Plus, knowing your extra ass, I bet you still have something else planned.”

Pursing his lips, Taehyung mumbles, “Well, you’re not wrong.”

“So, we’re settled,” Jimin lets out a relieved sigh.

There’s a funny look on Jungkook’s face as he watches the whole scene unfold. Taehyung raises a brow at the younger one, who responds with a shake of his head. “I thought you lost your mind, hyung. As someone who runs a billionaire company, I thought the stress is finally getting to you.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes before he realises, “Wait, aren’t you working somewhere else now?”

“Today’s an off day for me,” Jungkook shrugs, walking alongside Taehyung to the kitchen. “So, I figured after knowing Jimin hyung is coming here, I’d tag along.”

“I see.” Taehyung sets the sack of apples on the floor beside the main kitchen counter. Jimin is already rummaging through the kitchen for empty bowls to place the necessary ingredients for the pastries. Meanwhile, Yeontan sniffs the sack of apples curiously, nudging it when the apples tumble down, scattering on the floor.

Putting the bags of cinnamon and sugar on the marble counter, Jungkook mutters, “...And now, I’m already regretting.”

✧༺♡༻∞     ∞༺♡༻✧

You watch the snow-covered trees and sidewalks in a passing blur as Taehyung’s chauffeur drives you to the town’s famous flower shop. After turning to the familiar corner of the street, a few minutes later, you arrive.

Tightening your coat tighter to yourself, you climb out of the car, taking your handbag along with you. As soon as you go through the glass door, the owner greets you. “Y/N! You’re finally here!”

“Hobi!” You greet him in a friendly hug. “How have you been? You look great!”

“I’ve been good!” He motions for you to sit on the chair at the front counter. “Just finished arranging all the bouquets for today, and finally have some peace and quiet until the truck returns, then I have to load the second batch of bouquets.”

“You sure having a busy day.” You sit on the wooden chair. “Is ____ here already?”

He shakes his head, but his eyes are filled with mirth. “She’ll come visit later, she has something to do now. So, let’s start on your thing first.”

“Oh! Did you get it?”

Hoseok nods at your question, moving back behind the cashier counter, and crouches down as he rummages through his things. “Here,” he hands you a miniature of a cherry blossom tree inside a small sealed plastic.

Your eyes light up. “Hobi, it’s perfect!”

He smiles at your reaction. “What are you going to use it for?”

“For this.” You take out an empty snow globe from your bag. “It fits perfectly.”

“Well, you did insist for me to get the right measurements.” He chuckles, watching curiously as you unseal the plastic to take out the cherry blossom tree. “If it wasn’t for my fiancé, I would’ve gotten it wrong. She literally measured it down to precision.”

You laugh, placing the tree on the uncapped snow globe. “That’s what I love about her.”

“Me too,” he giggles before clearing his throat, still smiling. “And what bouquet would you like?”

“It’s for Tae. So...”

“Hmm…” Hoseok purses his lips. “Usually, people would go for roses, tulips, and carnations for Valentine’s Day.”

You ponder for a moment, weighing your options for the perfect bouquet for your husband. “I’ll go with carnations, roses, and baby’s breath.” Hoseok nods, eyes calculating as if picturing the bouquet you’d like.

“Is it okay if I use your counter for a while to assemble this?” You point at the snow globe and miniature on the counter.

“Sure~” Hoseok chirps, striding to the buckets of flowers a few steps away.

Then as if on cue, the front door opens. “I hope I’m not late…” ____ smiles at the sight of you, then her gaze shifts to her fiancé briefly, whose eyes are already on her. “I bring the supplies,” she places a bag of arts and craft supplies you requested in front of you.

“Thank you!” You beam, excitedly giving her a hug before rummaging through the bag. “You really brought everything.”

“No problem.” She ruffles your hair affectionately. “I understand that you had to keep this a secret from Tae for the time being.” Then she turns to Hoseok.

“Hey, baby,” Hoseok grins, opening his arms, his glove-covered hands full of picked flowers. She responds with a smile of her own, wrapping her arms around his waist. “Missed you,” Hoseok mumbles into her hair.

She rolls her eyes, “We just saw each other this morning.”

“Missed you every moment,” Hoseok replies cheekily.

You smile to yourself, hearing their exchange as you work on the snow globe. Taking the glue from the bag, you gingerly apply it to the bottom of the miniature cherry blossom and then stick it to the flat surface of the snow globe. You hold it in that position for a few moments before letting it go to dry.

____ once again stands beside you as Hoseok continues to work on the bouquet. She curiously observes what you’re doing and comments, “Did you come up with this idea?”

You nod. “Yeah, I thought of creating something special for him. After all, it’s our first Valentine’s together as newlyweds.”

Not a minute later, Hoseok already calls for his fiancé from the wrapping table on the other side of the room. “Babe, can you please help me with these?”

____ gives him a glance. “You’re just making excuses to be near me. You usually have everything under control.”

Hoseok wails in vain. “Pleaseee. Usually, I’d have Jungkook helping me. But ever since he’s gotten so busy with his new job, I haven’t been able to find another part-timer. So, I thought you’re helping me today.”

Failing to stifle a smile, ____ mutters a quiet ‘he’s so needy’ and then moves to help whatever Hoseok requires.

You chuckle hearing their banter. Just listening or watching them has always strangely brought warmth inside you. They treat you as their younger sibling, or even their child at times, but you can’t bring yourself to be annoyed at the treatment. Not when you know how they genuinely care about you.

Despite not tying the knot yet, they are the ones who made you believe that soulmates (or at least something really close to it) exist. And you hoped it’ll be the same for you and Taehyung.

Taehyung prides himself in many things—running his billion-dollar worth corporation, doing art, and gaming. He’d like to say that there are still many hidden capabilities that he has yet to discover. However, in the recent light of events, he is close to admitting that talent in the kitchen is a definite no.

“No! What are you doing?!” Jungkook gapes at the smashed apple in Taehyung’s hold, its juices dripping down onto the counter. “You’re making a mess, hyung! And you aren’t supposed to cut like that! Are you trying to commit a murder?”

“I thought this is how you cut it open...” The man in question mumbles, staring glumly at his work.

“No,” Jungkook groans. “You do it like this.” He slices the apple in half easily.

Right. Another aspect that Taehyung seems to lack is the ability to follow or listen to instructions. His primary instinct is either to go with the flow or dive right into whatever he’s facing. Hence, it’s still a work-in-progress since following others is just not his forte—

—except you. Your lilting accent whenever you speak, or even subtle actions, Taehyung follows you easily. One of your little habits—taking deep breaths whenever your emotions are getting the best of you—Taehyung has picked up that so effortlessly.

Like how currently, he’s taking a deep breath to not let his rising frustration get the best of him.

“Like this?” Taehyung attempts the way Jungkook cuts the apple—cutting it in half, aligning with the stem and core, then trying to slice it thinly.

Jungkook nods, observing Taehyung. Jimin, on the other hand, stifles his laughter as he assembles the apple slices on the pastry sheets. The blatant impatience in Jungkook’s face grows more and more apparent at Taehyung’s skill—or, rather lack thereof—in dealing with a knife. “Okay, I think it’s better if I do the rest of it,” Jungkook takes the cutting board, and the apples left. “You can help Jimin hyung do the pastries—shit!”

One of the apple pieces—a chunk, to be precise—rolls off the plate and falls onto the ground. Jungkook’s eyes widen in horror as a fluff of black and brown fur zooms past his legs and picks up the fallen apple as quick as lightning.

“Yeontan, no!”

So, while Yeontan munches happily on his newly-attained snack and a string of curses escapes Jungkook’s lips, Taehyung snatches the cutting board back. He resumes slicing the apples slowly. He’s a man with determination, after all. He’d like to be the reason his wife’s eyes light up with glee as she tastes the apple roses pastries he put his heart into.

Jungkook fusses in the background, “Can dogs eat apples?”

Jimin, now, can barely contain his laughter at the unfurling of the whole scene. “Well… I think so.”

“You think so?” Jungkook groans, quickly fetching his phone from the living room. He furiously types on his phone and googles: can dogs eat apples. “I will not be responsible if Yeontan falls ill and— Oh, thank goodness.” He lets out a relieved sigh. “It makes healthy snacks for them instead.”

“Yeah, it does,” Taehyung replies nonchalantly. “I usually let him have a piece or two without the seeds.”

Jungkook grumbles. “Why didn’t you answer me in the first place then? I panicked—”

“Cuz it’s fun to watch your reaction,” Taehyung and Jimin said in unison.

“And it serves you right...” Taehyung adds, mumbling.

“Screw you guys. I’m not helping with this anymore.” Jungkook crosses his arms, pouting.

“This is for my wife, you know,” Taehyung reminds him, “And remember how my wife is close to Hoseok’s fiance—”

Jungkook picks up the knife in record time.

✧༺♡༻∞     ∞༺♡༻✧

You stare at the finished snow globe in satisfaction, capping back the glycerin and distilled water bottle tightly. Then after you’re confident that everything’s all settled and cleaned up, you tilt the globe a few times to make sure the content is all set and doesn’t spill.

The cherry blossom tree stands tall as tiny leaf-like cutouts of pastel pink cascade through the liquid in slow motion, like real falling cherry blossoms.

“Wow, it’s so pretty,” ____ comments after she helped Hoseok with the bouquet.

You grin at her compliment before placing the snow globe in an empty black gift box. “I hope Tae will love this.”

“He sure will,” ____ muses, watching you tie the gift box. “You know he’ll love anything you give him. And—”

“Babe, can you help me get some ribbons?” Hoseok asks from the wrapping table across the room.

“Sure,” ____ chuckles, grabbing a basket of colourful ribbons under the counter and handing it to Hoseok.

“Can you help me tape around the edges?” Hoseok lifts the bouquet of flowers, gaze pointing at the bulk of stems. ____ complies, following his instructions before wrapping it with cotton paper.

You stand up from your seat and move closer to the couple. At the sight of the assembled flowers, you gape, “Now, that’s pretty.”

“I’m glad you like it,” He chuckles, tying the wrapped bouquet with a ribbon. “And we’re done!” He hands you the bouquet.

Taking a closer look at the vibrant hues of red, pink, and white, you stare in awe. “I love it!”

After bidding Hoseok and ____ goodbye, you step out of the shop with the bouquet and gift box in hand. Taehyung’s chauffeur opens the door to the car, and you climb in quickly to avoid the cold weather.

“Where would you like to go, Mrs. Kim?” The chauffeur asks as he drives.

“The bakery please. It’s a few blocks away from here.”

You hum to yourself a soft, happy tune. Just imagining how your husband would react has your heart fluttering and giddy. Wondering what he’s up to, you take out your phone from your coat and press on his number.

The familiar ring buzzes a few times until he answers. “Hey, baby.”

“Hey,” you smile. “What are you up to?”

“Hmm? Uh, nothing?” He answers, then you hear the sound of clanking and familiar whispers in the background.

“Tae… What are you doing?”

He hums. “Well, I thought I should clean up the penthouse before our dinner tonight.”

“Oh,” you giggle. “Did you really call Jimin and Jungkook to help clean up our place?”

Taehyung mutters a curse under his breath. “W-Well, they are willing to help. So, why not?”

“Usually, you’d call the usual cleaning services. Plus, isn’t Jimin’s bakery busy today?”

“Unfortunately, not this time, sweetheart. I’ve prepared some things tonight and I don’t want people nosing around.” Taehyung explains. “And Jimin says his girlfriend got it under control.”

You let out an amused chuckle. “Alright then.” Glancing out the car window, the pastel pink store is nearing. “I need to go now. See you tonight, baby.”

“See you soon, my love.”

The smile never leaves Taehyung’s face as he puts his phone back into his pocket and walks back to the kitchen. Jungkook is still cutting apples while Jimin cracks some eggs into a bowl.

“Was that Y/N?” Jimin spares a brief glance as he whisks the eggs.

Taehyung nods. “She asked what I was doing.”

“Nothing at all…” Jungkook mutters under his breath, arranging the sliced apples on a plate and putting them in the microwave.

“I heard that,” Taehyung narrows his stare at the younger one. “So… How are things between you and her, Kookie?”

Jungkook falters. “Uh, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Ah, yes, do you know I just met her in my meeting a few days ago?” A teasing smirk curls up on Taehyung’s lips as Jungkook pouts, still arranging the second batch of apples.

“Don’t fight you guys.” Jimin groans. “We’re not even halfway done with this!”

Taehyung opens his mouth to complain, and Jimin cuts him off. “So, you’re going to prepare the muffin tray—” Jimin instructs Taehyung. “Then Jungkook is going to help me with the pastries.”

“Can I help with the pastries instead?” Taehyung watches Jimin pouring cinnamon and sugar into another bowl. “Jungkook can prep the muffin trays.”

“Are you up for it?” Jimin raises a brow. Taehyung nods enthusiastically.

“Alright. But make sure to follow how I do it.”

Taehyung smiles giddily and stands beside his friend. He follows every action Jimin does: brushing egg wash on the pastry, sprinkling cinnamon and sugar on the dough, arranging the apples, and rolling it into a tart.

“So, how’s things so far with Goldilocks?” Taehyung questions once he gets the hang of arranging the pastries.

Jimin lets out a sheepish chuckle. “That’s her pet goldfish’s name, you know.”

Jungkook places the muffin tray after he preps it. “And she made me carry the whole tank back home…” Jungkook grumbles, recalling the past event.

Taehyung shrugs. “Then Ms. Shooting Star.”

Jimin fights back a blush on his cheeks at the mention of that. “I’m beginning to regret telling you all that.”

Taehyung wiggles his eyebrows with a teasing smirk.

“We’re both really busy these days, and we said to take things slow since her parents are a bit complicated, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Jungkook chuckles, “Says the one who had a mental breakdown right before Christmas dinner.

Jimin glares at the younger one. “Look who’s talking. I wonder if you’d ever grow the balls to admit your feelings for She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.”

“I don’t have feelings for her.” Jungkook mutters, looking away.

Taehyung nods. “Well, then. That’s good to know. One of my business partners was asking about her the other day. I thought I’d introduce them. “

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “Great, now you’re playing cupid?”

“Not yet. But I got one in mind who’s very interested in her…”

“Please, don’t.” Jungkook whispers, gritting his teeth.

“What was that?” Taehyung asks with an open hand behind his ear.

“Don’t…”

“What?”

“Please, for fuck’s sake. Don’t introduce any of your friends to her beyond business interest.”

Silence.

Jungkook blinks before he rambles, “I mean it’s going to be creepy if someone that’s fifty years older hits on her—”

“Oh, no. I can guarantee he’s not that old. In fact, he’s still a bachelor. Maybe a few years older than us. And—” Taehyung recalls, rolling the last apple rose pastry and placing it on the muffin tray. “—come to think of it, she did ask me about him once...” Taehyung trails, noticing Jungkook’s blank expression at the information. “Oops, I think I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

✧༺♡༻∞ ∞༺♡༻✧

“They all look so good,” you mutter, scouring through the vast chocolate choices under the display glass.

[Name] shoots you a smile. “Take all the time you need. The cafe isn’t open today, so it’s not that busy here.”

You glance around the bakery briefly. “I can tell… No wonder Jimin is with Taehyung right now.”

“Mhmm…” [Name] nods; she leans forward on the glass display, chin resting against one palm.

“Are you okay spending time here alone…?”

She shrugs. “I was promised a date in the winter market tonight. So, I don’t mind—” The sudden ringtone of her phone cuts her off. “Wait, gimme a sec—” You nod as she picks up her phone. “Mochi?”

A chuckle escapes your lips at the cute nickname.

“No, I can’t go there right now. It’s still too early to close up.” She glances at the wall clock. “Huh? What do you mean Jungkook left?” Your gaze shifts up from the sweet displays to her worried expression. “Oh, okay.” She drums her fingers on the counter. “I’ll talk to him if he goes here. Bye— yes, love you too.” She presses the disconnect button.

“Is everything okay?” You ask curiously.

She responds with a nod. “You know the usual, Taehyung and Jimin teases Jungkook too much and now, he’s gone off to blow some steam.”

“To where—” The door to the bakery slams open, and there a huffy Jungkook appears.

“That was fast,” [Name] sniggers at her best friend.

“Not in the mood,” Jungkook pouts, sitting on the closest table to the cashier counter.

“They giving you a hard time?” [Name] places a steaming mug of hot chocolate on his table and tilts her head slightly.

Jungkook huffs once more, sipping the drink carefully. Honestly, he doesn’t even know what got him so worked up. He’s used to all his hyungs’ teasing, but...

“Tell me about it,” [Name] places a steaming mug of hot chocolate on his table. “After I helped Y/N with her chocolate.”

Jungkook blinks, now realising that you’re standing awkwardly in front of the glass displays. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi, Jungkook,” you greet him back and turn to look at the desserts again. “And uh, I’ll take this and this…” You point out all the chocolate you’d like, earning a nod from [Name].

As soon as she’s done packing the chocolate box, you bid them farewell and exit the bakery with your heart fluttering in anticipation and excitement.

The peaceful atmosphere in the kitchen ceases the moment Taehyung’s phone dings when a text notification appears. Taehyung—who was busy admiring his final work on the muffin tray—takes a glimpse of his phone’s screen on the counter. “Oh no.”

Jimin takes the muffin tray off the counter and sets it in the oven. “What?”

“Jungkook just texted me that Y/N is coming back now.”

“Huh?” Jimin’s eyes widen. “But the pastries aren’t done yet!”

Another ding resounds through Taehyung’s phone.

Jungkook: Good luck tryna hide the pastries :P

“He can be annoying if he wants to...” Taehyung mutters under this breath at Jungkook’s retaliation.

“Well, we did hit a nerve by talking about her...” Jimin sighs, crossing his arms.

Taehyung snorts. “The kid needs to get it sorted out as quickly as possible. He sometimes just needs a push.”

“He still needs time,” Jimin counters, shaking his head. “Not all people have it easy in admitting their feelings.”

Taehyung mulls for a minute and nods in understanding. “I guess I shouldn’t push him too hard. But for now, I should find a way to distract Y/N,” Taehyung searches for your contact. “How long do you think we need?”

Jimin mentally calculates the time. “Like forty minutes to an hour?”

“Okay,” Taehyung clicks on your number. He clears his throat once you pick up the phone, “Y/N? Hey, baby, I might need help picking up something...”

“Oh, sure. What is it?”

“I need your help to pick up a cooking book I’ve been searching for…”

“...Cooking? Since when you’re interested in—”

“Look, I’ve been trying to find a new hobby and I thought why not cooking? Jimin recommended me to try it.” Taehyung blabbers, his heart beating fast. “And it’ll be fun if we do it together, right?”

“Okay.” The amusement in your tone lights up his face into a shy smile. “Send me which book you’re looking for and I’ll check with ____ if she has it. Just hope she and Hobi haven’t gone out for their date yet.”

“Thanks, love. I owe you one.”

He can hear the smile on your voice as you respond, “I only accept payment in kisses and cuddles.”

Taehyung chuckles fondly. “Consider it done.” Once you end the call, Taehyung checks the pastries in the oven, mumbling, “I hope that would keep her busy for a while.”

Jimin nods. “The first batch is almost done. But the second one—an hour should be enough...” He trails, voice filled with uncertainty.

“It has to be enough.” Taehyung picks up the dirty bowls and dumps it in the kitchen sink. “It should be...”

Jimin helps clean up the counter, even ensuring that there isn’t a trace of flour on the floor before he checks his phone briefly and pockets it back in his jeans. He moves near the oven—hands covered by the oven mitts—and tentatively takes out the first batch of apple roses pastries from the top rack and puts it on the counter.

“Let it cool off for a while and then you can hide it in the fridge or a container. Oh, and how will you plan to arrange the—”

Taehyung rinses off the remaining utensils—taking his washing gloves off—and rummages through the cabinets, taking out a heart-shaped platter.

With an unamused expression, Jimin blinks a few times. “You just have all kinds of things in your kitchen, do you?”

Taehyung shrugs. “Y/N came across it the other day and thought it was pretty. She didn’t buy it, so I bought it instead.”

A flabbergasted laugh escapes Jimin’s lips as he shakes his head. “Well, I better get going now. I don’t want to be late for my date tonight.”

“Thanks for your help, man. Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“That’s what friends are for, yeah?” Jimin walks out to the front door and wears his coat before giving Taehyung a farewell hug. “And you should apologise to Jungkook too. He’s probably still having his pity-party in my bakery.”

Taehyung nods, opening the door. “I will.”

After Jimin left, Taehyung goes back to the kitchen. He puts one leg and the other over the pet barrier he set to prevent Yeontan from stealing any more fallen ingredients. Said dog is whimpering in front of the kitchen doorway until the front door clicks. Then he hears the familiar footsteps of his wife.

So, of course, things aren’t going according to Taehyung’s plan today.

✧༺♡༻∞     ∞༺♡༻✧

After retrieving Taehyung’s desired cookbook, you arrive in the lobby. You stop by the receptionist desk to hide the gifts and tell them to bring it up to the penthouse at your call around seven in the evening.

The moment you step through the door, the sweet smell of cinnamon fills the air. Taking off your boots and coat, you call out for your husband. “Tae? You in here?” You head towards the kitchen to find it barricaded by Yeontan’s fence barrier. “What the—” You lift one leg over the barricade, and your other leg follows. You stride to the refrigerator to get a drink, only to find it blocked.

When you glance down, there your husband lays—his long legs blocking the fridge—with a strained smile on his face, looking absolutely winded. “You’re back.”

“My goodness, what happened here?” You crouch, helping him sit up. “Did the cleaning go wrong?”

Taehyung shakes his head, leaning against the refrigerator. “Everything’s well. Just… Resting… For a while.”

“Are you okay?” You tilt your head. “I’m gonna get you some water—”

Your husband stops you, leaning in to give you a peck on the lips. “Hi.”

An involuntary shy smile appears on your face. “Hi there, do you mind scooting? I want to get a drink.”

He shakes his head again, winding his arms around you. “It’s okay... I’m— I’ll take it for you.”

“Hmm? But you can barely even move, Tae…” You reach out, moving a stray hair from his handsome face.

“I can…” he pouts, grasping your hand on his hair to kiss your palm. “Just give me a minute.”

With a teasing smile on your face, you reach for the refrigerator handle again and attempt to open it when your husband stands up.

He’s definitely hiding something, but luckily he’s cute. “Alright…” You muse, watching his attempt to keep you from opening the fridge. But you suppose you’ll comply with his conspicuous actions. “I’ll wait in the living room.”

After you head out of the kitchen, Taehyung opens the fridge—releases a breath as he takes out a water bottle—and closes it again. He goes out to the living room, finding you giggling as Yeontan playfully licks your face on the couch. The sight brings warmth inside Taehyung’s heart as he strides closer and sits beside you, handing you your water.

“Thanks.” You let Yeontan down from the couch before taking the water bottle. While you drink your fill, Taehyung lays his head on your lap, letting out a contented sigh as you weave your fingers through his dark locks. “What time is dinner again?”

“Seven.”

Capping the water bottle, you glance at the wall clock in front of you. “So… Two more hours. I gotta get ready.”

“Hmm…?” Taehyung opens his eyes. “But we’re celebrating here...”

You let out a quiet laugh. “You said you want to reenact our first date.”

Your husband blinks once, then realisation falls upon him as he groans in embarrassment, sitting up. “You’re actually considering it?”

“Why not? It’s a cute idea,” you giggle. “It’s only between us both.”

Facing you, he questions, “It’s not too cheesy or anything?” Uncertainty is evident in his gaze.

“Of course not.” You grin, encircling your arms around him. “I love that idea actually.”

He lets out a sheepish chuckle. “Then I’ll see you in two hours?” Taehyung bites his bottom lip—a habit when he’s nervous—but he still holds your stare. “I’ll use the guest bathroom to freshen up. So, you get the bathroom all to yourself.”

“Oh? We can share as usual—”

“But that won’t fully reenact our first date, you know, before we’re living together—” He rambles, eyes darting everywhere, but you. You, on the other hand, fail to stifle a smile at his flustered state. Nodding in understanding, you stand up. Taehyung grasps your wrist, causing you to turn to him. “No kisses for me?”

You lean down, levelling your face with his, with a teasing smirk. “I don’t kiss on the first date, handsome.”

“You know what, on second thought—”

“See you later, baby.” Escaping his clutches, you go straight to your bedroom for your “first” date with your husband.

Taehyung has never been this nervous before, well, ever since your wedding day—the moment you walked down the aisle with a beautiful smile on your face that he needed to pull himself together before he turns into a sobbing mess and—

Okay, the point is, Taehyung has presented business plans, his company’s valuation, and other significant matters in front of hundreds or even thousands of people. He managed to stay calm and collected in every presentation—full of confidence as he moved across the stage with ease.

But when it comes to you? He wonders where did all that confidence go. And you’re just one person. The one person who he had promised to cherish and love, and—

He lets out a deep breath, staring at himself in the guest bathroom mirror. In a deep burgundy suit, he does a once-over at his appearance before the sound of the doorbell rings. He rushes out and ushers the staff, who brings a decorated table in along with the surprises he prepared.

A few minutes later, when all is set, he knocks on your bedroom door, straightening his suit jacket in nervousness.

The moment the door swings open, Taehyung’s throat goes dry as he gapes at you, adorning the same black dress you wore on your first date. Your eyes momentarily grow wide as well at his choice of outfit—the same one he used on the first date—before bursting into a giggle. “Wow, we do think alike…”

Snapping out of his trance, he nods. “And you still look breathtaking as ever.”

“Stop stroking my ego.” You move closer to him, looping your arm through his as he leads you to the living room.

“You know I can’t help myself,” Taehyung chuckles.

A gasp escapes your lips as soon as you see what has been prepared. The whole room is lit up by candles—some real, some fake—yet, there are no other words than to describe it as beautiful. The couch and coffee table has been set aside, and in the middle of the living room, a candlelit table stands with meals for two prepared on it. Your gaze falls on the bouquet of roses Taehyung has in hand.

“It’s beautiful,” you mutter in awe.

Taehyung grins. “A hundred and forty-three roses for the love of my life.”

You gape, taking the bouquet into your arms. “A hundred forty-three?”

“It means ‘I love you’.” His gaze is full of emotions. “I don’t know if I’ll ever live up to be the man of your dreams. But I can continue—” He takes your hand in his. “—to love you even more as we spend our lives together.”

Silence.

Your gaze is glassy and unreadable. Then you blink your eyes rapidly, looking up at the ceiling. “Damn it, Tae. I’m using makeup.”

“Huh?”

Placing down the bouquet on the coffee table, you reach out for the tissue, dabbing your eyes carefully before fanning your hands.

“Oh no, don’t cry—”

“It’s your fault for making such a speech. You know how emotional I get when you do that.” You dab your eyes more as Taehyung wraps his arms around your waist from behind.

“Oh sweetheart,” Taehyung coos as you face him. You stare into his loving gaze for a few moments before you clear your throat. However, as if on cue, the doorbell rings. Taehyung furrowed his brows. “Expecting someone?”

“Wait here.” Pulling away from his hold, you rush to the door. The moment you return to the living room with presents in hand, Taehyung gapes as you hand him the bouquet and gift box.

“What is this?” He observes the gift box curiously, then admires the flowers. “It’s beautiful.”

You sit on the couch, patting the space beside you. Taehyung follows suit, placing the bouquet on the coffee table before untying the gift box’s black ribbon before his breath hitches in his throat.

With trembling hands, he lifts up the snow globe carefully. “It’s… Isn’t this where we met?”

You nod. “Just so you know, I couldn’t wish for a better person to be with,” you start. “I think some part of me has always known that you’d be the man of my dreams. Ever since you spilled strawberry juice on my shirt.”

It takes him a few moments to process your words as his eyes shift from the snow globe to you; a chuckle passes his lips. “First, that was an accident. And do you… really mean that?”

Taking his free hand on yours, you lace your fingers together. “I married you, didn’t I?” Your wedding rings gleam softly, reflecting the light of the burning candles in the room.

“Made me the happiest man alive.” He recalls the memories of falling cherry blossoms, spilled strawberry juice and frantic apologies-turned-laughter. A soft smile appears on your face after putting the snow globe back on its box. He turns to you. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

You raise a brow at him. “What’s stopping you?”

“You don’t kiss on first dates.”

“Well…” You lean closer to him. “I think I can make an exception for the man of my dreams.”

Taehyung exhales, “Thank heavens.” He cups your face gently, clearing the remaining distance between the both of you. No matter how many times you kiss, it never fails to send his heart beating a tad faster or put a smile on his face. In other words, Taehyung is head over heels in love with you.

After a few moments, you pull away, and he chases after you, but you place a pointer finger on his lips. “Dinner first,” you remind him.

He sighs in defeat, lips turning into a pout and nodded. Once you both finish dinner, you lean back on your chair, patting your stomach. “That was a nice meal.”

“I have one more surprise for you.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, “What is it?” With a secretive grin, Taehyung stands from his seat and makes a beeline to the kitchen. You can hear the fridge opening and closing before your husband walks out of the kitchen with a—

“Isn’t that the platter I saw a few days ago?”

Excitement is written on his face at your realisation, placing the platter in front of you. You let out a gasp at the sight of the neatly-arranged apple rose pastries.

“I made it myself,” Taehyung beams. “Jimin and Jungkook came to help a bit.”

“A bit?” You tease, shooting him a glance before setting your gaze back on the pastries. “These look almost too pretty to eat.”

Taehyung drags his seat to your side and plops down. Anticipation is apparent in his eyes as he watches you pick up a pastry and bites into it. Another gasp escapes your throat at the burst of sweetness spreading across your tastebuds. You stare at him in shock as you chew.

“So?” He waits for your response. “How does it taste?”

“It’s...” You swallow the remaining pastry in your mouth down. “Really good.” Taehyung’s eyes twinkle at your compliment. “I’m… Wow,” you breathe out, utterly speechless. “So, this is why you wanted to start cooking?”

He blinks, with realisation dawning upon him, then he scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Actually… That was to keep you distracted for a while. I wasn’t done baking the pastries yet.”

Snorting, you lift another pastry in front of your husband’s mouth; he bites and chews for a few seconds. And stops.

You furrow your brows at his odd reaction. “What’s wrong?”

“Shit—” Taehyung rushes to the guest bathroom without another word. Placing the half-bitten pastry on the empty plate, you follow suit and find your husband retching on the toilet bowl. Once he’s done, he reaches for a mouthwash. “I think—” He gargles the mouthwash then spit into the sink. “—that one is still undercooked.”

“Oh, no. I’m sorry. I didn’t know—” you ramble, watching Taehyung wipe his mouth with a paper towel, then washes his hands.

He cradles your face with his dried hands. “It’s my fault. I didn’t check if all the pastries are fully baked. I’m sorry.”

“You okay, now?” Your voice sounds uncertain, hands covering his bigger ones.

He nods reassuringly. “It’s not that bad. Maybe I was over-exaggerating— oof.” You poke his stomach in retaliation as he giggles.

“You had me worried.”

“And you’re still a worrywart.” He rubs his nose on yours affectionately. “My adorable worrywart.”

Your gaze falls on his drenched shirt (and luckily, he already discarded his burgundy suit). “Your shirt is ruined now.”

“Hmm...? Oh, dear,” he feigns worry, leaning on the marble sink—his palms on your hips. “Now, what do we do? Do you wanna—” You roll your eyes at the teasing glint in his eyes. Knowing what he’s up to, your fingers unbutton his shirt, leaving him flustered at your sudden movement. “W-Wait—!”

You pull the collar of his half-unbuttoned shirt, leaning forward to have his face so close to yours. Both your lips just millimetres away from each other. Voice dropping into a lilting whisper, you purr, “Let me make it easier for you today, yeah?”

Shivers run down Taehyung’s spine at your familiar words. “Is this payback because of this morning?” You shrug and finish unbuttoning his shirt. His lean chest on display to your eyes now. “Or is this just an excuse to get me naked?”

A teasing smirk curls up on your lips. “A bit of both.” Then you wrap your arms around his neck, closing the distance between you—lips claiming his own.

Humming in approval, Taehyung winds his arms around your waist. Fire ignites inside you as you pull away briefly. Your husband turns you around, settling you on the marble counter of the sink while he stands between your legs.

Your dress hikes up to your thighs, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when the man of your dreams drags his luscious lips across your jaw and trails down your neck. Your breath hitches when he kisses your sweet spot; fisting his opened shirt by the shoulder as he rains kisses on your collar bones, nipping on it.

“Tae—” You breathe out as he hums in response, tugging the zipper on the back of your dress down. “—kiss me, please.”

And he complies, claiming your lips.

Tangling your fingers through his hair, you let out a sigh as he trails downward once more, scraping the skin of your throat with his teeth. Tugging the straps of your dress off your shoulders and letting them pool on your waist, he lets out, “You’re gorgeous.” He places a kiss on the juncture between your neck and shoulder. A soft whimper emits from your throat. “So damn gorgeous. And all mine.”

Tracing his jaw—half-lidded gaze staring at him—you whisper, “Why don’t we take this somewhere else more comfortable?”

Almost instantly, he lifts you up in his arms—your legs winding around his waist, arms around his neck—heads out of the bathroom and lays you gently on the bed. You discard your dress as it falls in a heap of silk on the rug. Then you tug off Taehyung’s shirt as he climbs on top of you.

“You’re spoiling me so much today. Thank you,” You mutter, holding your husband’s face in your hands.

“Thank you, my love. What I did today, it’s the least I can do,” He stares back at you with so much love, leaning down to kiss you softly. “After all, I’d do anything to make you smile.”

You chuckle at that, poking his nose. “I love you.”

He holds one hand of yours and kisses your palm. “And I love you.”

The remaining articles of clothing find themselves in a heap on the floor as your husband reminds you of your wedding night—making love to you into the late hours of the night.

EPILOGUE

“Don’t go…” he mumbles sleepily, keeping his arms around your naked waist.

“Tae, let me go, I just need a drink—” you wriggle in his hold to break free. “—my throat is really dry—” And your husband has the nerve to chuckle at your words. He lets out a pained groan as you poke his stomach (maybe a bit too hard), and finally, he lets you loose.

Climbing off the bed, you pick up his shirt and don it quickly. However, the moment you step out of the bedroom, an unpleasant smell wafts through your nostrils, and when you reach the living room, you gape in horror.

“Yeontan!” You shriek at the sight as the said perpetrator waddles towards you with his round innocent eyes.

Your husband emerges—bare-chested and in his boxers—out of the bedroom at your alarming shriek. Once he sees the scattered dog waste across the marble floor, he mutters, “I think we ignored him for too long.”

author’s note: i’ve decided to add another character (YAYYY CEO!taehyung) in the same universe as baker!jimin, florist!hobi and ???!jungkook (feel free to guess what he’d be 😙)!! thank you for reading and as always feedbacks are appreciated !!

[plus-size-reader]

Creep pt.2

Victor Criss x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2424 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Victor finally gets the date he was so desperate for

Part 1 

—————————————————————————————————

He’d figured it out.

It took him all week, and he’d nearly burst a blood vessel while trying to figure out what it was he wanted to do, but Victor knew now.  

You specified that you wanted him to take you to dinner. That was what you wanted if you were going to believe that he had feelings for you, and he definitely did.

So, all he had to do was figure out was where to take a girl like you, a girl he really liked, without his friends ever finding out that the dinner date happened.

It was a tall order, but after all this time, he had an idea.

All he had to do was make sure that the guys were busy, and he would be free to take you anywhere he wanted. Then, as far as wooing you went, he already had a whole dinner date set up in the form of a picnic in the quarry.

There weren’t a lot of first date level restaurants around here that were any good, and the ones that were around, he certainly couldn’t afford or wasn’t allowed back into.

Most of the business owners in Derry were wary of the Bower’s gang, and they had been banned from most of the fancier establishments.

Hell, even the milkshake bar on the other side of town had threatened to have them arrested if they ever went back. Though, he sort of understood where they were coming from, after Henry spray painted some really obscene things on the side of their building.

Victor just hoped the saying was right, and the thought behind his evening with you would be enough to show you just how much you meant to him because the picnic he’d planned was pretty extensive.

He had gone out and picked up everything you could have wanted, aside from the burgers he was going to pick up right before picking you up at your house, so they wouldn’t get cold.

He had a blanket that he could spread out over the edge of the rock quarry, looking down over the water, and he even got these tiny little cakes from the bakery down the street that he figured you’d like.

Girls liked those kinds of things, he’d asked Belch.

All in all, it was shaping up to be a pretty good date. The only thing Vic still had to do was figure out how to get the guys out of his hair for the night.

The worst thing he could possibly imagine happening would be Henry, Patrick, and to a lesser extent Belch, crashing your picnic and ruining his chances with you completely.

The blonde was already well aware that he was on thin ice with you, which was why this probationary date had to go well. He wanted to show you that he was capable of this.

That he was more than just some thug who made fun of pretty girls for their extra weight and relationship status, two things Henry went pretty hard at you for.

Henry and Patrick both liked to comment on how you would never have a boyfriend because of your size, and how you would probably die a virgin cause nobody would hit that.

In fact, there were very few things about you that the more alpha of his friends wouldn’t torment you for, something that, the more he thought about it, made Victor upset.

You had a point that day in the hall.

He had never really said anything nasty about you to your face, but he hadn’t stopped them from doing it either. He just stood back and let his friends treat you like the dirt beneath their boots.

It was hardly the foundation for a functional relationship, but he wanted to try. For now, all he could do was hope that he’d planned such an amazing date that it would make up for all those terrible things.

Thankfully, before Victor could further drive himself crazy, his three best, and only, friends came around the corner and made a B-line for him. This was it, if this went well, he would be home free for his date tonight.

...But if it didn’t, he had no idea how he was going to explain it to you.

There was no way you would give him a second chance if he cancelled your date to spend the night riding around in Belch’s Trans Am, listening to hair metal.

It had to happen tonight.

“Where have you been?” Belch asked, the only one of the three to even address him once they’d made it to his side.

Henry and Patrick continued to talk about whatever it was that had them so enthralled.

It wasn’t new, and didn’t even really bother Vic, but it was something he had never realized before. They didn’t even really seem to care if he was there or not, which he never would have noticed before talking to you.

Somehow you had managed to turn everything Victor knew upside down and he wasn't sure that he liked it. He wasn’t blind to the fact that his friends weren’t the best people before, but it had never hurt him to be around them.

They were the only friends he had, even if they weren’t the greatest guys of all time.

They were what he had.

“I had to run a few errands, no big deal” the blonde shrugged, hoping he’d done a good enough job at hiding his true intentions so that Belch wouldn’t ask any questions.

He wouldn’t have any answers for him if he did.

This whole thing was new to Vic, who had never really liked a girl this much in the first place, but he was doing what he thought would work. Lying, thankfully, wasn’t new to him.

At the very least, he could rely on his quick wit and the fact that two of the three of his friends couldn’t have been more oblivious to what he was doing and the third wasn’t the brightest to begin with.

It was starting to look like his little scheme would actually work.

Belch didn’t pry any further, something that Victor was glad for, and before it could get any more awkward or he gave himself a stroke, he asked what he’d been trying to ask for days, but didn’t have the nerve to.

“So, what’s the plan for tonight?”

He tried to make it as nonchalant and casual as he could, as if he was just inquiring about the plans he knew they had indefinitely.

Even if the four of them were just going to walk around Henry’s property, or terrorize kids in the park, they always did something together. It wasn’t the sort of question that should have roused any suspicion.

Still, Vic couldn’t help but feel like his entire plot was unraveling at the seams and it was only a matter of time before the gang found out what he was doing and slaughtered him.

It wouldn't go over well. “Nothing, I gotta take care of some things for my pop, so you three girls are on your own” Henry shrugged, not offering any more explanation than that. Whatever it was, if Butch was involved, they knew not to press it.

Though, Victor already felt a little better knowing that Henry wouldn’t be skulking around, potentially finding the two of you in the woods.

Henry already had it out for you more than anyone else because of that time he asked you to see a movie with him and you said no. That rejection had really stuck a bur in his side, and it surely had something to do with his cruelty toward you now.

He wasn’t used to hearing no, after all.

Patrick and Belch had other plans too, it seemed, not really interested in hanging out with any of the others of them without Henry. If it wasn’t the whole gang, it was weird for them.

So, it seemed like Victor was in the clear.

All he had to do now was show you the time of your life and hope that you actually gave him a chance. A girl like you should have never even agreed to go out with him in the first place, so he wasn’t going to ruin it.

You deserved the best, and he was doing all he could to provide it.

~

Vic was sure he’d never been this nervous in his entire life.

Before now, he’d been so preoccupied worrying about the threat of the gang finding out what he was doing, or you changing your mind and rejecting him that he hadn’t given any thought at all to how this would feel.

Waiting for you to get here was going to kill him.

All Victor could think about was whether or not you were coming, or if something had happened to you on the way here. Maybe you decided that this wasn’t a good idea and were staying home, or worse, maybe you had another date.

Whatever it was, it was taking you way too long to get here and every second that passed by, he was sure you weren’t going to show.

You had stopped him in the hallway after the last bell rang, signalling the end of the day, and told him that you would meet him in the Quarry, because he didn’t drive, which didn’t seem like that big of a deal at first.

No good first date had even begun by walking awkwardly in silence through the woods, and it was smart to meet up for the more romantic parts of the evening. However, now that it was here, Vic had to wonder if it was all some clever ploy to leave him in the quarry alone.

It seemed cruel, but after everything he and the guys had done to you, it would be a lie to say that he didn’t deserve it.

He couldn’t have blamed you if you hated him.

Thankfully though, as the sun began creeping down and the air cooled that much more under the waterfront’s influence, you came walking up the path.

You had to admit that when he first suggested coming to the Quarry this late in the evening, you weren’t sure. It still seemed like this whole thing could be some joke, or something put on by Henry to humiliate you.

After all, Victor was the most unassuming of the four of them and if you were going to agree to go out with any of the Bower’s gang, it would have been him.

You just weren’t sure how to feel.

...but you were relieved to see Victor, right where he said he’d been, sitting on a beach towel or something.

It didn’t seem like a set up for a prank, but you weren’t fully convinced until you reached his side and saw the huge set up he’d spread out for you, right on the edge of the cliff.

You were far enough back to avoid falling off or dropping anything into the water below but close enough to see how pretty it was up here. You had never been here before, which had only solidified Victor’s plans to bring you.

The quarry was one of the only things in Derry that was worth seeing, and the fact that you’d lived here this long and still hadn’t come up here was blasphemous to him.

“Hey, I was getting worried you wouldn’t come” Vic called, the first to speak between the two of you. He did his best to play it off like a joke but it seemed like you knew how nervous he was.

Of course you did.

You were nervous to do this too.

Putting yourself out there wasn’t really something you did often or were good at, and you felt like you had taken a huge risk in agreeing to do this with him. However, as far as dates went, this really was worth the risk.

No one had ever gone through so much trouble just to impress you.

“You get stood up often?” you teased, sitting down on the spot across from him which you assumed was meant for you. It would have been sort of strange if he was waiting on someone else too.

It was a joke of course, but what you didn’t know was that he had. In general, Vic didn’t date too often just because he didn’t have a great history with this sort of thing.

He wasn’t exactly a ladies man after all.

“Sometimes” he shrugged, hoping that wouldn’t scare you off. It was much more honest than he was used to being, with anyone, but for some reason, you brought it out of him.

The two of you seemed to bring something different out of each other and as strange as it was for both of you, it was nice.

Victor, for one, felt like he could be who he was around you. It didn’t matter how vulnerable or goofy he wanted to be, there wasn’t going to be any awful consequences like there would be with the gang.

You didn’t seem to care if he wanted to be a geek.

“That’s okay. Me too” you shrugged, grabbing one of the cans of soda he offered you.

Your admission made him laugh, of course, because he assumed that you were joking, but after a few seconds of silence, he realized just how wrong he’d been.

You were completely serious, but that didn’t make any sense to him. You were beautiful and the fact that you had been stood up on a date didn’t compute for him.

Who in their right mind would have skipped out on a date with you? Victor certainly wouldn’t have, even considering how difficult you had made getting here for him.

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad they were so stupid because now you’re here with me” he sighed, doing his best to keep from looking you in the face after saying something like that but you were happy he had.

That was one of the sweetest things anyone had ever said to you and as shocked as you were that he was the one saying it, you weren’t going to argue.

“I’m glad too. You’re surprisingly sweet, Vic” you allowed, taking a sip of your drink without much more between the two of you. This was hardly where you saw the evening going, but it was for the better.

Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

[munsonsduchess]

Hello there, lovely duchess <3

I'd love to see what you come up with for prompt #8!

Take care! :)

-bee

summary: You and Bucky are FWB and you've been together for a while now but that's all about to change warnings: kissing, fluff, swearing, gambling (don't do it kids), mentions of smut a/n: yeah so this took an age and that's because my motivation went on vacation and i had to wrangle it back through customs

Prompts from this list

»»————-　♔　————-««

You’d met the Avengers when Tony had finally had enough of your constant nagging and had agreed to let you meet the team he always spoke so much about - not to mention you wanted to see the people he couldn’t stop complaining about in the flesh - so he’d finally relented and introduced you to everyone as only Tony knew how. With a party.

You’d been so excited to meet everyone you hadn’t even minded when the dark brooding man at the bar had spilled your drink on your dress, he was too handsome for you to be mad and with the gleaming metal arm on his left side there was only one person he could be,

“It’s perfectly alright Sergeant Barnes, it’s just a drink” you’d given him your best smile and offered to buy him a drink instead but he’d refused and you hadn’t seen him the rest of the night. Much to your dismay, he’d been someone you’d been looking forward to meeting the most.

In Bucky’s mind anyway he wasn’t planning on getting too close to you, figuring that if you were Tony’s friend there was a high chance you were just another upper east side park avenue princess. A socialite who only cared about wealth and who she could be photographed next to in newspapers and he didn’t have time for that anymore. He was a different man now.

Then you were around more often, spending time at the compound with Natasha, getting lunch with Wanda, offering to bank roll the team since you had “more money than I know what to do with” and it didn’t seem fair for Tony to have to do everything when he had a family to support as well.

Slowly but surely you wormed your way into the team’s hearts and it got to the point where everyone was asking Bucky what his issue was with you, why did he not like you? Had he even spoken to you?

Bucky had brushed off every question, he’d just ignored the needling and the nagging until finally he couldn’t. He’d blown up at Peter who’s eyes had gone wide as the teenager stuttered out an apology. Bucky hated himself for it, even more so when everyone was walking on eggshells around him afterwards, even Steve and Sam who knew him best.

He’d gone out to clear his head and off all the gin joints in all the world you had to be in the one he chose. With your warm smile and offering to buy his drinks, telling the bar staff to put everything on your tab despite Bucky’s protests that he could buy his own drinks. You just rolled your eyes at him and moved to sit next to him instead.

It ended up with just the two of you in the bar that night, your cheeks rosy from the alcohol and your eyes glassy with tears of joy as you listened to his stories and laughed at his jokes. Maybe you weren’t as bad as Bucky originally thought but he still wasn’t planning on getting closer than he needed to, until you’d put your hand on his thigh when you settled the tab and offered to split a cab.

You’d both ended up tangled in your bedsheets, laughing and joking, gasping and moaning well into the night. It had been a while for both of you and this release was definitely needed, plus you’d ended up teaching Bucky a few things when the initial groping like horny teenagers had worn off.

You’d also introduced him to the term ‘friends with benefits’ which is where you found yourself currently. Of course you both went on dates separately but you found yourself cancelling plans more and more to spend time with Bucky instead. To be curled up on the couch watching a terrible movie which was usually forgotten about halfway through for other more entertaining activities that could be partaken in on a couch.

»»————-　♔　————-««

Maybe it was silly of you to think you could resist having feelings for someone like Bucky, someone so kind, caring, funny and someone you felt so comfortable around but that’s exactly what happened. You’d woken up one morning with the smell of him cooking in your apartment kitchen with the radio playing something you didn’t really care about. You’d curled up in the blankets on the bed and revelled in the domesticity of the whole situation and it had struck you. You really cared for this man and not just as a random hook up.

The only problem was, did Bucky feel the same? Everyone else seemed to think so, when you’d spoken to Steve and Sam and Natasha and Wanda and even Scott they’d all seemed to think you and Bucky were already a couple. So you’d enacted a plan, was it your smartest plan? Probably not. Were you going to do it anyway? Damn straight.

You’d created a new tinder profile and specifically matched with the most boring man you could find. The poor bastard had no idea what he was in for or why you’d decided to go out with him but you needed him to be the human equivalent of the colour beige for the plan to work.

Bringing the man around the compound to meet the team, telling Bucky you couldn’t spend time with each other sexually anymore since you and … Dave were serious now and it wasn’t right to cheat on your boyfriend.

Bucky to his credit had wished you well and was happy you’d found someone, outwardly anyway. He’d known the ‘relationship’ the two of you had couldn’t last, that of course you’d move on and find someone worthy of your time and attention. Did it hurt? Like a bitch but he was going to be the bigger man.

Or at least he had wanted to be. The more you brought Dave around the more Bucky wondered what the hell you were doing with a man like that, he couldn’t make you laugh the way Bucky could, where your nose would crinkle in the middle and you’d gasp for breath. He didn’t know how you liked your coffee in the morning, iced usually and loaded with sugar. He sure as shit didn’t know how you liked to be touched.

It had come to an ugly head one evening when you and Dave had gone for dinner, in a restaurant you and Bucky would hang out in all the time. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back, that and the asgardian mead that Thor had left on his last visit. Bucky had taken a shot for some dutch courage and driven his bike straight to the restaurant pushing past the staff who tried to stop him,

“Y/N” he yelled, causing you to look at him with wide eyes and a surprised expression.

“Bucky, what are you doing here? Is everything alright? Did something happen to Steve or Sam?”

“Forget them and forget this guy too, you’re coming with me” he reached down to where you were sitting and wrapped his metal hand around your upper arm, “come on”

“Bucky no, I’m on a date I can’t just leave!” you protested, “David, I'm so sorry about this”

David opened his mouth to say something but a glare from Bucky told him that wasn’t a wise move. Instead he seemed to shrink back into his seat under the weight of Bucky’s icy glare,

“Come on doll” Bucky said again, hoisting you up from your seat by his grip on your upper arm, “we’re leaving”

“James Barnes! I am not your property, let go of my arm right now! If you have something you want to talk about we can talk about it later, I am with David and you have no right to barge in here like this!”

“The hell I don’t”

“Leave James, we’ll talk about this later”

Bucky was about to rebuke you again but was interrupted by a man in a fancy suit clearing his throat, apparently you and Bucky had caused enough of a commotion that several guests had complained and now both of you were being asked to leave. Which suited Bucky just fine. He grabbed you and pulled you from the booth ignoring your cries and protests and simply pulled you along with him until you both were stood at his bike,

“Come on”

“No! You do not get to manhandle me like you own me and then act like nothing is wrong, if you had something you wanted to talk to me about we could have done it like grown ups”

“Oh yeah? Like Dave? Is that what you do with him? Talk like grown ups?”

“What David and I do is none of your business Barnes”

“It is my business cause you’re my business, you’re my girl not his!”

You blinked at Bucky a few times before you huffed out a laugh, that was definitely confusing. Why were you laughing?

“Oh my god! You couldn’t have said something earlier? You had to make a scene? How am I supposed to come back here now?” you were still laughing, “not to mention I owe Steve $50 because he bet you couldn’t last the month”

“Wha? You and Steve had a bet goin’ about me lastin’?” Bucky was beginning to get agitated now, what the hell were you and Steve betting on?

“Yeah! I mean honestly Buck did you think I really liked David? He’s the most boring human being alive! I mean yeah he’s nice enough but oh my god of course I wasn’t serious about him!”

“Then why were ya out with him?”

“To see what you would do!” you said exasperatedly. Bucky raised his eyebrow, what the hell did you mean by that? “Oh my god how can you be this dense, it’s you I want to be with Barnes, not David. You! So I picked David to see if you would just let me be or if you felt the same way!”

“Wha? You couldn’t have just asked me?” Bucky shoots back, “you had to make this whole convoluted plan?”

“Right because if I’d asked you you’d have said you wanted whatever was best for me and if I wanted to see other people that would be fine and you’d never tell me what you really wanted. At least now I know” you said batting your eyelashes at him “you like me, you called me yours”

Bucky groaned and ran a hand down his face. He’d been an actual idiot. He’d told himself he was fine with you seeing other people, that this was just how the modern world was like. He couldn’t expect to hold onto someone like you forever. Now he’d gotten you kicked out of your favourite restaurant and had put his hands on you in a way he swore he never would. That being said, none of that would have happened if you’d been honest with him, no matter what you thought he’d say to you. Now here you were batting your eyelashes at him like nothing had happened,

“Don’t you dare give me those sex eyes right now! This is a serious situation, here!”

“Oh shut up and kiss me Barnes”

That he could do. Repercussions from his actions be damned. You were his. All his.

»»————-　♔　————-««

Taglist: @metalbuckaroo @doasyoudesireandlive @spicynudlesoup @calisamcro

[fakescenarios-tohelpyousleep]

selfless| ryan atwood

summary| ryan seems to keep getting into trouble revolving around you so you decide to leave orange county, however, ryan has the same mind set.

note| I’m still in season 1 of the O.C. and even though I know Luke leaves and he isn’t really a villain, I need a bad guy for the story so I’m using Luke.

    “Oh my God Y/N!” As the officer help you from the back of the police car, wrapped in blankets, wet and shaking uncontrollably you fall into the first pair of arms to grab you. your boyfriend, ryan atwood. 

When you had decided to attend a private prep school across the country for your junior year, you hadn’t intended to fall for your host families foster son however here you were. apart of the cohen family. 

From the adjacent driveway marissa and summer stood in shock watching as there somewhat friend froze in his arms. And the question raining over everyone mind... what had happened. 

“Y/N, you’re freezing.” Ryan states the obvious as his hold tighten in an attempt to warm her up. As the scene unfolds the lifted truck of marissa’s boyfriend luke pulls up and he moves to marissa’s side, watching in guilt as you practically can’t stand on your own. 

“She needs to get warm as soon as possible, a hot bath and then warm blankets, you need to get her body heat back.” The officer explains to Sandy and Kristen who are at Ryan’s and your side along with Seth, who for a second went to try and help Ryan hold you up however decided against it when he saw the look on his ‘brothers’ face. ‘Will do officer, thank you.” “We’ll be in contact in the morning to learn more about what happened but get her inside first, if her body heat doesn’t go up in the morning, she’ll need to go to the hospital.” 

“Where were you?” Your voice was small and Ryan almost missed it as Sandy removed you from his hold, picking you up to get you into the house quicker. “Y/N what are you talking about?” Ryan questions rushing after Sandy. “The pier, you didn’t come.. Luke he dropped me off-” Ryan had texted you before to cancel as something with Seth had come up and he knew you would understand, however, he now realized that your phone wasn’t on you... You had forgotten it at the house and hadn’t gotten the text. At the mention of Luke his head snaps in the direction of the Cooper house and as he made eye contact, Luke turns away in guilt. Marissa put the piecing together... No, when they arrived to drop you at the pier and Luke offered to walk you to where you were meant to meet Ryan, he didn’t hand you off to Ryan, he had pushed you into the water as a joke... no knowing you couldn’t swim nor that the water was freezing temperatures. 

Even with your consciousness was fading in and out, you were so sensitive to the heat around you that you could feel Ryan’s body moving from besides you. With your remaining strength you reach out to grab a hold of Ryan’s sleeve, stopping him in his tracks. “Ryan don’t.” “Y/N, he could’ve killed you.” He gritted threw his teeth, attempting to keep his anger from boiling over. “Ryan that isn’t important right now, we need to get her inside... Do not go over there.” Sandy voice came out as a threat. He was putting his foot down. They would deal with Luke when you were taken care of, which you weren’t at the moment still shivering in Sandy’s arms. Ryan stops, staring at you and Sandy for a moment, before shaking his head in ‘sorry’ and rushing off down the driveway in the direction of Marissa’s house. “Ryan!” Sandy yells after him, Kristen stepping in quickly. “Sandy we need to get her inside, Seth go with Ryan.” She meditates the situation. She knows well that Seth isn’t going to be able to stop Ryan, however, you needed to get taken inside. Ryan fighting Luke again or you possibly getting hypothermia... hypothermia wins. 

_

“Dropping the charges? Are you being serious Y/N? He could’ve killed you.” Seth was going ballistic that morning at you sat at the kitchen island drinking hot chocolate against your will... you needed something warm and hot chocolate was better than coffee, but still wasn’t your drink of choice. “He didn’t know the water was that cold or that I couldn’t swim plus if I drop the charges against him, he won’t go after Ryan.” You mumble back as you pull the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands, still colder than usual. Seth scoffs looking to his dad for help, who was standing off to the side reading the morning news paper. “Dad, a little help here.” Sandy looks up, “I’ve already tired, Seth.” He replies in defeat and then at the sound of the sliding doors opening, the kitchen falls silent as Ryan enters the kitchen. Ryan’s eyes quickly fall to you, but yours just as quickly fall away suddenly becoming very interested in your mug of hot coco. It was visible that he got into a fight, you often question if he’s truly from Chino because every time he fights with Luke, Luke somehow ends up winning and Ryan comes out with more damage. “I’ll drive today.” Ryan pipes up, trying to break the uncomfortable silence that was waying on the kitchen. “Yes, and we should get going before the pressures of awkwardness crush us all.” Seth jumps at the opportunity. “It’s just gonna be you two today, I have to take Y/N to the doctors.” Sandy explains as Ryan lags waiting for you to join him and Seth. “Doctors? Are you okay?” Ryan’s concern is obvious from his tone. “I’m fine.” You mumble before Sandy speaks again. “It’s just to make sure her body heat is stable and back to normal, nothing serious.” “I’m coming with.” Ryan demands, dropping his backpack from his shoulder. “No you’re not. You’re going to school. After last night you’re lucky you’re even still here.” Sandy snapped, he was right. If Luke pressed charges Ryan would be taken from the Cohen’s and put back in juvie.. and it would’ve been all your fault. 

“Sandy?” The tone of your voice made his head snap in your direction. You sat in the passengers seat as Sandy drove back to the house after the doctors. You were okay, you’ve just caught a small cold and were now on antibiotics. Not to serious. “I wanna go back home. I’ll finish the year back home.” Shock over took Sandy’s face. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Y/N finals are coming up, you’ll have to repeat the whole year if you transfer back now. What about summer, I thought you were staying to go on vacation with us this year? You felt tears form in your eyes and it didn’t go unnoticed to the man sitting besides you. “Ryan could’ve gone to jail last night because of me. Everything bad he’s done since I’ve gotten here as been because of me. I’m not good for him, I’m going to ruin his life. I have to leave.” Sandy signs as he pulls into the driveway of the house you’ve called home for the past year. “You two are insufferable.” He mumbles and you look at him confused, what does he mean by that? Sandy sighs again, debating on weather to tell you or not. “Last night I went to talk to Ryan and he was packing a bag. He was planning on running away last night because he’s ‘causing trouble in your life’, the two of you are selfless with each other. You want to leave because you feel like you cause trouble for him, Ryan thinks the same thing about you Y/N.” Your jaw hung as Sandy spilled the secret from the night before. Ryan was going to give his life up for you. So that you could live a drama free life with the Cohen’s minus him of course. “Why is he such a dumbass?” You seriously ask, which makes Sandy chuckle. “I’m sure he’s say the same thing about you. Y/N, Ryan needs someone like you in his life. I promise I’m not bullshiting you when I say he’s the happiest I’ve seen him since you’ve come here.” “I can’t ruin his life Sandy. Even if someone is happy if someone is ruining everything else in that persons life, the happiest isn’t worth it, is it?” “Y/N, I can’t stop you from leaving, but think on it. At least talk to him.” 

_

“Ryan, can we talk?” Your voice and the knock on his open door spooked him as he laid staring at his ceiling. It wasn’t abnormal for you to come to the pool house at night to see him. It wasn’t abnormal for you to sleep in the pool house with him just like it wasn’t abnormal for him to sleep in your bedroom inside of the main house. In the beginning Kristen and Sandy tried to stop it from happening, however as time progressed and a pregnancy hasn’t occurred it’s just become normal for one of your beds to be empty at night. The sound of your voice had spooked him as you haven’t spoken more than a few sentences to him since his brawl with Luke. “Yeah, totally.” Ryan shot up, sitting on the side of his bed as you closed the door behind you and joined him on the bed with a large space between you. Strange. The two of you are normally attached at the hip while around each other. It wasn’t something you two did on purpose, most of the time you don’t realize you’re as close until it’s pointed out by a third party. Ryan clears his throat, not liking the silence hanging in the air between your two. “Are you alright?” He questioned noticing you still swearing a sweatshirt even in orange county’s early May weather. Then it hits him, jealously at the notice of the sweatshirt being Seth’s. he ignores it, looking away from the sweatshirt and moving to your face. You’re not looking at him and he feels it in his chest. Pain. You finally nod, “Just a cold, I’m on antibiotics for like 2 weeks.” You explain not going into more detail than needed before letting the silence fall again. 

“I might be going back home.” Ryan’s head snaps so face that you’re surprised his neck didn’t break. “What?” “You don’t have to runaway, I’m most likely going back home after final exams.” Ryan was dumbfounded, A by your confession and B by the fact that Sandy told you about his antics. Ryan goes to speak, however he stops himself, shakes his head and changes what he was going to say. Realization hitting him as his conversation with Sandy from the night before spilling into his mind. “We’re being ridiculous.” Confusion covers your face as he continues, “Just the other night you were here saying you were planning on staying in orange county for the next year and now you want to leave just because I fought Luke, who could’ve killed you might I add!” He was now on his feet. Anger and desperation slipping into his tone. “Ryan you could’ve gone to jail because of fighting Luke and that would’ve been my fault! How did you expect me to live with that if that happened?” “You would’ve gone on and been more concentrated on school and go on to continue to live with the Cohen’s-” “If I go back home I’ll be concentrated on school and you wouldn’t have to leave the life you built-” “Y/N you hate your mom!” Silence falls again and regret covers Ryan’s face but he continues with his point, only now talking instead of screaming. “If you go back home you’re not going to go to art school cause your mom won’t let you. You’ve said it before Y/N you’re mother is suffocating, I can’t put you back in that position.” “Ryan all you have is the Cohen’s.-” “They’re all you have too, Y/N.” You both stop speaking and you feel the tears in your eyes again as the realization washes over you. “I have you Ryan, and I need you with me, but I can’t live with the weight that you’re going to put yourself in harms way for me.” Ryan’s face falls as the first tear rolls down your face. “I couldn’t just let him get away with hurting you.” He defends himself again for the millionth time. “I know, but promise me you’ll stop fighting people and stop getting in trouble.” You plead with him and the next moment you’re knocked back as his body collides with your and his arms wrap around you so tightly you almost can’t breath. “I will, just, stay.” 

The next morning you followed Ryan hand-in-hand into the kitchen where the Cohen’s all resided, and all stopped dead in their tracks upon you both entering. “Well good morning you too.” Seth says as he notices his parents shocked expressions. The glares sent by you both make Seth uncomfortably turn away to face his parents. “How do they do that? One glare and you perfectly understand. Witchcraft I tell you.” He whispers to them making both parents chuckle before he excuses himself from the kitchen, attention turning back to you and Ryan. “So y/n,” Sandy begins already knowing the reply to his next statement. “We have a meeting today with the dean about transferring your credits back home-” “No need.” Was all you said, stealing a glance at Ryan which he return, a smile on his face in gratefulness and happiness as you both turn back to your breakfast in silence. Sandy grinning from ear to ear... his house was back to normal. 

[justkending]

Noisy Neighbors, Drabble Series. (2/2)

Summary: Bucky Barnes is that loud neighbor you want to scream your head off at for throwing all kinds of parties what feels like year round. But in doing so, you somehow got a free coffee date out of it...

Pairing: (college neighbor) Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3000+

A/N: I had a sweet follower @blessedwedgie​ ask me if I can write a continuation of this drabble I did a while back and at first I was like, “What do I do? Where would I want that to go? How would I continue that in a way that would be cute?” Then I was at work being bored as hell, but had a pen and paper and well... Here we are! I hope I did it justice friend:) This was really fun to write and I want all the cuteness that is College Bucky Barnes in my life honestly!

Here is part one if you haven’t read it yet. 

Noisy Neighbors Part 2:

The only reason you really agreed to coffee with the handsome neighbor was because your morning class had been canceled and you didn’t have another until later that afternoon. Of course there was the free coffee too… Ok, maybe his stupid handsome face had something to do with you leaning to say yes. 

He was persistent.

So at 9:55 the next morning, you threw on a pair of real pants and a jean jacket over your sweater and ran a hand through your hair as you grabbed your keys by the front door. 

“I’ll be back later Wands!” you shouted back down the hallway. No response. She was probably sleeping after pulling an all nighter for a test today. “I’ll be bringing you back some coffee too, I guess,” you laughed to yourself as you went to open the door. 

But you were startled to open it and immediately see those familiar piercing blue eyes.

“Jesus-” you jutted as you threw your hand over your chest in surprise. 

“Sorry,” he laughed as he took in your reaction. “I literally just stepped in front of your door.”

“You sure you haven’t been waiting out here since last night?” you smirked, stepping out and locking it. 

“Now, I did say I was persistent, but I think I deserve a coffee and a little more than small talk before I decide if you’re stalking material,” he shrugged, watching as you turned back to him. 

“I like to think I’m stalking material,” you played along, getting a laugh out of him. “Though, doesn’t mean I’d actually liked to be stalked.”

“Ladies and gentleman, she’s got the jokes,” Bucky announced as you walked side by side to leave the apartment building. 

“Just to be safe, you’re not some charming Teddy Bundy 2.0, are you? Cause if that’s the case, I don’t think this is going to work out,” you joked, sending him a smile before tucking your hands in your coat about to bare the cold outside. 

“So you think I’m charming?” Bucky jeered. 

“Don’t get cocky there, Cavanosa. I’m still trying to decide if I’ll ever answer my door again if you knock,” you pointed at him as he opened the door for you. 

“I’m wounded, Y/N,” he faked hurt, but inside he was just gitty to know your name now and be able to say it. 

“Buy me that coffee, and you’ll have a better chance, soldier.”

_____________

You went to the coffee shop on campus and the little coffee date went surprisingly well. You talked about school, learning Bucky was a forensics major and hoped to go to Quantico at some point. He said he always had a gift and interest in crime scenes and murder mysteries growing up. He liked being able to solve it before the characters on shows did or the narrator gave it away. 

To which you countered with, “So you would be a certified stalker with a badge? Interesting…”

That got a big belly laugh out of him which you couldn’t seem to help but join him after hearing such a sweet sound.

You talked about how you’re going into Psychology, and actually were interested in a similar field of forensics. You had always loved the psychoanalyzing of people and situations. So naturally, you were looking into being a Forensic Psychologist. 

He asked why he hadn’t had any classes with you yet considering it was both your senior years. Then you explained to him how you had just transferred for this last semester because of better professors and a scholarship opportunity you wanted to take advantage of before graduation. 

It turned out that you both were taking one of the same classes, but just had it at different times. Same professor though. 

After the obligated ‘college talk’, you both got into; where you grew up, where you plan to go, what are your hobbies, what do you do in your free time if you weren’t studying. Which you had already known Bucky’s was throwing parties that irked you to no end. 

“Yeah, I’ll cut back on those. I’ve been getting behind in school and it’s starting to affect my grades,” he pursed his lips in embarrassment. “Dr. Cassel’s class especially. Damn man has a 3 page essay due what feels like every night!”

Dr. Cassel being the professor that you shared.

“Eh, it’s not fun, but if you get ahead a little and do the readings, it’s not that bad,” you shrugged, taking a sip of the hot cup of tea that you told him you preferred instead of coffee on days like this with the weather. 

“Easy to say for a nerd who likes to read,” he smirked taking a drink from his own cup as he looked over the brim of it at you.

“Excuse me sir, I thought you were trying to get on my good side here,” you gasped. “Calling me a nerd isn’t going to do that for you.”

“I’m kidding. I’m kidding,” he laughed. “You actually kinda remind me of Steve. He’s a bookworm like you and the goody two shoes who’s always on top of things.”

“He didn’t seem like that at the party the other night,” you tilted your head. 

“Oh, yeah. I may or may not have finally had convinced him to join in on the fun. He’s always holed up in his room studying or reading something, which I’m sure you understand,” he winked getting an eye roll from you. “But every once and a while I can get him to cross over to the dark side for a night.”

“School’s important for me. It’s taken a lot to get here and I don’t want to mess it up,” you explained. Your face going a little more serious as if there was more behind that fact than you were letting on. Bucky toned his joking down some at change. “Plus, it’s my senior year. One more semester of this and I’m home free. That is until I start job searching and that’s a whole other step,” you shook your head looking down at your drink. 

“Have you ever gone to a party during college?” Bucky asked. “You know, do the whole college experience thing?”

You looked up seeing he was genuinely curious. 

“Uh, yeah. I went to one or two with my old boyfriend at the other school I went to. They weren’t more than just a bunch of frat boys and girls getting plastered and making out in random spots around the house, while the rest were listening to loud music and standing elbow to elbow in a crowded rent house off campus.”

“Very specific scenario there,” he chuckled, lightening the mood. “I take it you and your boyfriend aren’t together anymore?” His question did not meet your eye line as he stirred the dash of creamer he had to his drink. 

“No, that would mean he would be my current boyfriend, not old,” you laughed. “That and I probably wouldn’t have said yes to coffee if I was dating someone.”

“Right, because this is a date,” he noted as he looked back at you with that cocky grin. 

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you smirked back. 

“You did say it in the text. You said, ‘sounds like a date,’” he pointed out. 

“But do all coffee dates mean actual dates or just meeting up to talk over coffee?” you countered. 

“Would I get in trouble if I said I’m hoping it’s the first one?” he asked with hopeful eyes. 

You paused for a second. God, he was cute. He was charming. But… You came here for your degree and you broke up with your last boyfriend because your schedule is too hectic and you’re trying to focus strictly on school. You didn’t have time for relationships. 

“I hate to break it to you, but I’m not really a part of the dating rehealm at the moment,” you said awkwardly. Bucky’s smile dropping some. “My schedule is just too chaotic to add another person to it, and I really need to focus on school.”

You could see disappointment on his face, but he was quick to wipe it off to not cause any more tense energy in the conversation. 

“I get it. You have your priorities in check. Can’t blame you for that,” he shrugged with a soft smile. “But now that I know you’re my neighbor, and I really like your whole persona. You won’t be mad if we became friends, would you?”

You giggled at that and his smile widened. “I think I can get on board with that.” His grin grew once again. “Besides, I may need to copy your notes for class, so I guess it’d be useful to get along with you,” you exaggerated as if it was so much to do on your end. 

“If anyone’s copying notes here, it’ll be me, doll. I’m the one failing,” he said with a raised eyebrow as he took another sip of his drink, 

You two continued talking for a while with another cup of coffee was purchased. Strangely enough the annoying neighbor that you had grown to despise, had surprised you in being a pretty nice guy. It was like you two had been friends since high school with how comfortable and snarky you guys were with the other. And it didn’t hurt to look at him either…

Eventually you headed off to your afternoon class and Bucky headed home being lucky enough not to have any classes all day. He offered to walk you to the class, but with it being as cold as it was, you didn’t want to inconvenience him by walking you there and then all the way back to the apartments. It wasn’t a short walk. 

He obliged after much persuasion on your end and you went your separate ways. 

As the weeks went on, you started to see more of your neighbors. Steve sat with you in Child Psychology now knowing you a little better, and Bucky somehow always was in the hallway at the same time as you or was bumping into you at the forensics building occasionally. 

The neighbors had become friends and Wanda was just happy to not hear you complaining anymore about the two that shared your wall. That and the parties had practically ceased now. Considering what Bucky said about being behind in classes, you suspected he was trying to cut back on his social time. 

As the semester went on, Bucky made it a priority to see you at least once a day if he could. Emphasis on the at least…

If that meant knocking on your door to walk to class, he jumped at the opportunity. 

“Hey, I’m headed to the library and I know you have that 12 o’clock class in the building over. Wanna just go together?” He grinned. 

“Can’t say no to a chauffeur,” you would smile back as you grabbed a beanie and walked out with him. 

If it meant somehow almost always making more food than he and Steve could eat, just to come over and offer you some, he would take the option. 

“Hey, I made some pasta tonight and had way too much for Steve and I. I thought I would ask if you and Wanda want some before I throw it out,” he smiled widely in your doorway. “What college student in their right mind would say no to a hot meal?” he winked.

“Not a sane one,” you chuckled as you took the platter. “You sure you don’t want them for leftovers?”

“Eh, we never get around to eating them most the time. You guys will enjoy it more than us. Plus, it’s better fresh,” he waved off. 

“Ok, if you insist. I guess I’ll have to bake you some of my famous brownies as a thank you.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Y/N. I will hold you to it.”

If it meant last minute study sessions for a class he forgot, he texted you a long message begging you to help him out. 

“I know you took this class last semester, so you have to know something. And something is more than I know,” he said with a wrinkled nose once he was in your room. 

“What part of the unit are you in?” you sighed from your desk as you put your now finished work to the side for him. 

“Personality disorders common in serial murders.”

“Oh, that’s the fun stuff. Why wouldn't you want to learn about that?” you gasped, going to sit right next to him on your bed. 

But honestly, he wasn’t worried about the chapter. He had actually read it before coming over to surprise you in his knowledge when he acted like he was lost. He just liked when you sat close to him and went on a rant when you came up on something that triggered a murder documentary you watched. That’s how he hooked you into letting him stay longer. 

“Wait, so the movie was about a serial killer who ended up having multiple personality disorder? He didn’t know he was doing the killings?” he asked. 

“How have you not seen it? It’s a classic!” you questioned in surprise. 

“I don’t know… Tell me more about it,” he grinned as you went on. 

Oh, and he had seen it. It was a good movie. 

If it meant he somehow got ‘locked out of his apartment and couldn’t get in until Steve was home’, he made the excuse to sit outside your door until you were home. 

“I left my key inside by accident today. Any chance you’ll let a loner like me hang out with you for a little until blondie gets home?” he batted his eyelashes as he leaned against your door. 

“This is the second time this week, Bucky. And the fourth time since last week. Do I need to sew the damn things to you?” you laughed opening your apartment to him. 

“I’ll pass on that. I would prefer to just hang out with you instead,” he shrugged, closing the door behind him. 

“You sure you left your keys by accident?” you asked with a pointed eyebrow as you took off your jacket. 

“Cross my heart,” he said, doing the motion. 

“Yeah, sure. Wanna put a pot of coffee on while I change?” you asked, already moving to your room. He had been over enough by now from study sessions and ‘accidental lockouts’ to know how to work your machine. 

“Already on it,” he hummed walking to the kitchen. “Want me to make you a cup?”

“Dash of cream and-”

“Two sugars! I know,” he shouted back, smiling as he moved in your kitchen to grab the mugs. 

And if it meant never throwing another party again, and instead asking you to come over to his place and watch a movie instead, he moved his schedule around for you. 

“Hey, what do you say to a movie date?” he asked as you walked back from class and nudged you with his elbow. 

“A movie night sounds nice,” you responded, emphasizing on night instead of date. 

“I didn’t say night,” he would point out. 

“I know. I figured I would correct you on your slip up. Don’t worry, it happens to the best of us. Words are hard,” you teased, nudging him back. 

Though he knew you would never fall for his little tricks, he always implemented date into a lot of his questions about you two hanging out. It had become a little game between you both. 

“Study date tonight before Cassel’s test?” He asked as you grabbed your mail together. 

“Study session? Yeah, sure,” you corrected. 

“Hey, want to come over for a dinner date? Steve and I are making homemade pizza. You and Wanda are welcome!” he offered. 

“I’d love to have a pizza party with you guys. I’ll text Wanda and see what her plans are,” you giggled, hip bumping him walking up the stairs. 

“Hey, what do you say to an impromptu date to the baseball game tonight? We’re playing against our school's top rival,” He smiled as you both grabbed your coffee from the barista. 

“Oh yeah! I heard that was tonight. Eh, how do you feel about a movie night instead?” you shrugged. 

“Movie date?” he seconded. 

“Yeah, a movie night,” you emphasized. 

Conversations like that went on all semester. You were finding that whatever time you weren’t spending in class or at work, it was next to Bucky. The two of you becoming a couple of best friends attached to the hip. 

It was nice. You enjoyed it. And though, you knew deep down that he probably meant all those things being a date and hoped for it, you were glad he didn’t press on when you changed the meaning. He understood where you stood and he wasn’t going to pressure you for anything different if you didn’t want to. 

And now, it was time for graduation. You, Steve, Wanda, Wanda’s boyfriend Vis, and Bucky all stood in your gowns taking pictures with your temporary degree in hand outside the college stadium. You had all finally finished. With a lot of all nighters, stress relief movie nights, and much needed pizza parties, you had graduated. 

You didn’t plan on getting two new really good friends out of it as your mind had always been school, school, school. No time for a social life and distractions. 

But boy were you glad you had hit a breaking point the night you banged on their door. If you hadn’t, you would have probably never created the very close relationship with the blue eyed, brown hair, crazy flirtatious, but charming neighbor. 

“Hey, since we graduated and we finished the damn thing, how do you feel about a date?” Bucky asked turning to you after Wanda snapped a picture of you both.

“I didn’t hear movie, study, or pizza in front of that word. What kinda date are we talking about?” you asked as he kept his arm wrapped around your waist from the pose you two were in. 

“I was thinking of a real date,” he smiled. 

His hand on your hip giving a gently, but firm squeeze as his eye practically suffocated you with the ocean tides in them. 

“I think I can get behind that,” you grinned up at him, squeezing his shoulder. “A real date it is, Casanova.”

My Lovelies forever:

@natura1phenomenon @lauravicente @kakakatey @traceyaudette @notyourtypicalrose  @laneygthememequeen @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @sandlee44 @thorne93 @thefaithfulwriter @marvelfansworld @essie1876 @greyeyedsmile14 @capsiclehan  @xostephanie @averyrogers83 @awesomenursingstudent @gh0stgurl @cs-please @carls1022 @jjlevin @rainbowkisses31 @carls1022 @anise-d-castle6 @deannotmoose @their-bibliophile @kitkatd7 @willowbleedsonpaper @mariaenchanted @snffbeebee @couldabeenamermaid @rebekahdawkins

Bucky Barnes Tags:

@morganclaire4 @chloe-skywalker @charmedbysarge @jbarness @bellamy-barnes​

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @heyiamthatbitch​ @lizzymacy555​ @iheartsebastianstan @srrymydood​ @xa-dia​ @redhairedfeistynerd​ @morganclaire4​ @connie326​ @captain-asguard​ @mollygetssherlockcoffee​ @teenagedreams-bucky​

[wrenhyperfixates]

The Double Date

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: On Valentine’s Day, you set up a double date with your boyfriend, Loki, and friends, Bucky and Steve. Unfortunately, tensions between the god of the Captain threaten your evening. Warnings: none, I believe  A/N: Some Valentine’s Day fluff ft. Stucky. Enjoy!! :D

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant​ @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae​ @whatafuckingdumbass​ @castiels-majestic-wings​ @kozkaboi​ @cozy-the-overlord​ @birdgirl90​ @myraiswack​

Disclaimer: Picture not mine

This Valentine’s Day thing was something of a novel idea to Loki. A whole day just to celebrate love? Unheard of. No, love was something of a taboo in the Asgardian court. What with battles to win and arranged marriages being made, they all prided themselves much more on being warriors than being in love. But that was neither here nor there, Loki supposed, for now he was on Midgard.

By some miracle, Tony was not throwing a party for this holiday. That suited Loki just fine, of course, as he loathed such crowded social gatherings. Plus, it meant he was going to get to spend the whole day with his beloved and only his beloved, you. At least, that had been the plan until Bucky approached you about the idea of a double date.

“You don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to,” you told a Loki when you mentioned it to him. “I know you and Steve don’t exactly, uh, see eye to eye on some things.”

It was true that there were many points of contention between the two, what happened when Loki first came to Midgard being the least of their problems at this point. They were just two strong personalities, with two drastically different views of the world. Even on missions, they never could agree. It was the reason they hardly ever were sent on ones together anymore. So spending his first Valentine’s Day with you anywhere remotely near the Captain was the last thing Loki wanted. But...

“No, darling. They are your friends,” Loki replied, giving you a peck on the lips. “If you want to have a double date, as you call it, I would be delighted to go with you.”

“You’re seriously the best boyfriend ever,” you said, cuddling into his side as his arms wrapped around you. “You know that, right?”

“Well, you like to tell me that quite often, so I suppose I do know, then,” he chuckled. “I love you, darling.”

“I love you, Loki.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

About a week later it came time for that which Loki so came to dread. The double date. He didn’t regret saying yes, per se. After all, the smile on your face had nearly already made it all worth it. And you’d told him he could say no. But again, that beautiful smile of yours. He sighed and buttoned up his black dress shirt. You came out of the bathroom fully ready to go except for your shoes that you couldn’t find.

“Over there, darling,” he said. “By the door.”

“Thank you, Loki.” You didn’t immediately go over to put them on. Instead, you walked up behind the raven haired god and gave him a hug. “It’s not too late. We can cancel if you want. Say that one of us got sick or something.”

“While I appreciate the offer, it would be awfully unbecoming to cancel plans so close to when they are meant to happen. All I require is that after dinner we have some time to ourselves.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The both of you finished getting ready and made your way into the common room where you’d arranged to meet your companions. They were sitting on one of the couches, Steve’s arm around Bucky while they watched TV, waiting for your arrival. After a quick greeting, you were all ready to go and headed out to one of Tony’s cars which was waiting for you.

“After you,” Steve said as both he and Loki tried to get in the limousine-like back at the same time.

“No, no. After you, I insist.”

And so it continued for nearly the next minute, the two of them locked in what might be the stupidest battle of the wills ever. When Loki noticed the concerned look you and Bucky shot each other, he relented and got in first. You gave his hand a quick squeeze and mouthed your thanks as the car began to drive in the direction of the restaurant. He responded with a quick kiss to your temple.

After that, things went fairly smoothly until the first course was brought out. Of course by that point things had been too peaceful for too long, and Loki and Steve were gearing up to have another stupid argument. There was a coordinated effort from you and Bucky to try to steer the conversation away so such a fight wouldn’t break out. It didn’t work.

“All I am saying,” Loki expressed through grit teeth, “is that the fish tacos are clearly the best item on the menu.”

“I’m well aware of what you’re saying,” Steve replied, also struggling to keep up the pleasant facade. “And all I’m saying is that the steak is obviously the best.”

“Guys, can you please calm down,” you pleaded. “The waiter is coming over.”

“Perfect!” Loki exclaimed. “We can ask them.”

“Good, then you can see you’re wrong,” Steve quipped.

Both of their dates let out a groan as the waiter approached, knowing what he was in store for. Sadly, it seemed there was nothing they could do to stop it.

“Pardon me, good sir,” Loki began, “but would you not agree that the fish tacos are the best item on the menu?”

“And pardon me,” Steve interjected. “But don’t you think it’s actually the steak?”

“Well, actually,” the waiter chuckled, “I think the pasta carbonara is the best thing on the menu. And it’s by far the most pop-”

“Wrong!” Steve and Loki shouted at the same time, cutting the man off.

Bucky mouthed a sorry to him and you hid your face in your hands as the people at the surrounding tables turned to look at the cause of the commotion. And, you were sure, the fact that they realized it was the Avengers probably didn’t deter them from looking away any time soon.

By the time they stopped squabbling, the waiter was back to take your dessert orders. Though, he did approach with visible apprehension this time. Halfway through eating your sweets, Loki and Steve started arguing about chocolate versus vanilla. Fed up with the nonsense, you and Bucky left without them, after leaving a generous tip of course. After all, that poor waiter had to deal with your boyfriends' antics.

“Listen, once you two have worked things out like the grown men you are, you can come join us in the car,” you said before you left.

You both gave your boyfriends a quick peck on the cheek before exiting the building, leaving them to work through their differences. Your dates sighed, stubbornly sitting in silence, unwilling to reconcile. Loki knew it would be good to just make some temporary truce so he could be in your arms again, but his pride wouldn’t allow it. It seemed Steve was having the same dilemma.

“Look,” Loki began, resolve weakening and hoping they could agree for once. “You and I, we are very different people. Nothing is going to change that. But we do have something in common; we have ruined Valentine’s Day for the people we love. I am sorry for what has transpired here tonight.”

“You’re right,” Steve conceded. “And I’m sorry, too. For goodness’ sake, we’re teammates. We should be able to get along for one night.”

“Well, it seems we are finally in agreement,” Loki said as they shook on their truce.

“So, any idea how to make this up to our dates?”

“Actually, I think I have just the thing.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This is perfect,” you sighed as you and Loki danced beside Steve and Bucky on the very romantically decorated rooftop of Avengers Tower. “Thank you, my love.”

“Anything for you, my darling.” Loki lovingly kissed the top of your head. “Even if it means swallowing my pride every once in a while.”

“Oh, Loki,” you chuckled, “you flatter me.”

“Well, only the best for my little mortal,” he laughed along with you. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my love.”

Then he bent his head down and kissed you. It was full of passion and desire, yet still slow and gentle. After all, you had plenty of time for a more heated make-out session later that night once you were alone. For now, just being together in each other’s arms was enough. In fact, it was more than enough. It was like a fairytale, picture-perfect.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Loki.”

[insufferablelust]

you and spencer teasing each other all day at work to see who breaks first and it ends with you and him have some rough sexy times in an empty office 🥵 (it do be horny hours rn)

if it isn’t one of my favorite tumblr accounts ever! such an honor to write this! i changed some stuff and its super long i know:( but hopefully you’ll still like it! thank you for requesting bub! i love you! (and yes HORNY HOURS = every hour basically for me)

OKAY WARNINGS BE RESPONSIBLE : THIS IS SMUT basically just porn, Semi-Public sex, exhibitionism, degradation, Dom!Spencer, Sub!reader, Fluff!!, Unprotected sex (don’t you dare!), um what else.. uh oh! bratty!reader, vibrating panties?, and some sprinkle of curious Prentiss + Garcia duo! as always excuse my grammatical errors, thank you.

Happy Reading, please feel free to send me more requests, Smut, fluff, angst, whichever you like! ❤️

it started out silly, you and Spencer have been together for a year now, after you joined the BAU, your fascination grew quickly for the doctor, the way he talk, the way he stuck out his lip when he concentrates, the way his fingers move when he’s explaining about quantum physics, and the way his stares could easily make someone give up control easily.

And lucky you, 5 months into the job it turns out that Spencer is equally smitten when it comes to you, the way you gaze up at him shyly, the way you can go from a tiny cute kitten to a mother lion, the way you run your mouth sometimes makes him want to shut you up, preferably with his lips against yours. As if you were both have always been meant to be, he sealed the relationship and now it has been going on for about a year.

Right from the beginning of your relationship, it’s always been clear that you’re the submissive out of the two, you both switch sometimes, but most of the time he loves the thrill and feeling of taking control over you, dominate you in smallest ways possible. Like picking what you wear sometimes, braiding your hair when you go out, setting up your bed time because you won’t sleep otherwise and you both need to works. Since you live together, in this household what Spencer Reid said goes, and you’re content with that, relinquishing control after days of catching serial killers and filling out paperworks feels so good and you definitely love when he takes care of you.

But when there’re rules, there are punishments. Now you see, you can get really bratty when you want to be, sometimes it’s not even intentional, maybe you have had a bad day and been snapping at your coworkers all day, at one time even snapped at Spencer when you were on a case, of course spencer won’t let that behavior slide so right after the case, let’s just say that you limped your way to the bullpen the very next day. Yet there are also times when you just act bratty on purpose, defying him, rolling your eyes, interrupt his ramblings, even tease him under the table during dinner- now that, that is the behavior that never fails to earn you the best nights of your lives.

And its an advantage for you when he proposed the idea, right on your anniversary eve. Spencer just finished showering as he entered the bedroom to find you reading one of Rossi’s newest book, he chuckled softly as he put on his pajamas and lays down next to you that cause you to immediately put down the book cuddle close to him. You glanced towards the analog clock beside Spencer as it read 23:55 on it, “it’s 5 minutes until—“

“Our anniversary, I know baby.” He interrupts, as he wrap his arms around you and placing soft kisses all over your face. “Do you know, astronomers estimates that there are about 100 thousand stars in the Milky Way alone?” He randomly mumbled, earning himself a giggle, as you softly ran your palm up and down his cheeks, “and your point being, Dr.Reid?”

“Oh I don’t know, if god is in fact real, I’m just grateful that the universe give me the brightest most powerful star amongst all. I mean isn’t that something?” He chuckled, looking down at you- directly at your eyes.

You feel your lips wobbled as a tear threaten to slip out of your eyes, before sniffling “hey, hey baby, why are you crying? Did I said something wrong” he worriedly placed leans on his elbow, lay you down on your pillows.

“No you dumb genius, I just love you so much and I don’t know what to do with it” You pouts as you hear him laughing the infamous Spencer’s laugh before leaning down to kiss your lips hungrily, cupping your jaw, and tangle your tongues together.

Your fingers manage to grip his hair, as you pull him off, gulping down a deep breath “w-were you trying to kill me?” To which he laughed and shrug “I was just showing you what to do with it, (y/n)”

“Mmm You can definitely show me more than that... sir” and with that his whole demeanor changes, like staring into a different person, you bit your lip in anticipation, feeling his palm roams up your sides, whilst his lip graze across your skin delicately- almost like he’s taunting you. Just as he was about to kiss you, he pulled back and grin,

“Is that so, love? I have a different idea in mind though” He smiles at your agape jaw, and the curiosity that’s glimmering through those glassy eyes, Spencer is a genius— you’re always excited on what he have in store for you in that brilliant mind of yours.

“May I know what it is, Dr.Reid?” Your heart flutter as you see him smiling, meaning he’s pleased with the way you asked. “You’ve been good for me, but i hope you haven’t forget that little stunt you pulled a week ago, i certainly haven’t, sweetheart.”

Your heart dropped as your thighs clenched together, a week ago right before a case, you were bratty, teased Spencer the whole day, from rubbing him underneath the table, and even pretended that you’ve dropped your fork so you can bend down. He was planning to pull you over his lap then and there but the plan got canceled right as Garcia announced that the LAPD needs them on a double homicide case. You honestly thought he has forgotten about it, but you cursed internally as you remember that your boyfriend has an eidetic memory.

“Oh look at you, your lips goes pale then you’re visibly shuddering. What? Don’t say you’ve forgotten about it”

“N-no sir! Its just that... I, are you going to punish me?”

“No, at least not until tomorrow night. How about, we play a little game?” He suggested, as he brush his thumb on your lower lip, and you suckle on it as a sign of agreement.

“Tomorrow, unless a case comes up, we’re both allowed to tease each other starting from the moment we wake up until we comes home from work. Whoever break first, looses and have to do everything the other person asks for the night plus the whole next day.”

If your panties wasn’t soaked already, it definitely is now. You shudder and nod in response, sucking his thumb contently before popping them out of your mouth “yes please sir, I would like that.”

“Good girl, now lay back and let’s savor tonight before we torture each other tomorrow.”

And at that, your anniversary night was perfect.

————— next morning

The first thing on your mind today is that it’s going to be sucks, waking up to your boyfriend nibbling the reminiscent of the last night’s marks on your neck is certainly not the way to go for you— not if you want to win this.

So like a good girl that you are, you push Spencer lightly so he’s laying on his back and straddle his hips, an innocent smile displayed on your face as you lightly grind your hips down— feeling him harden underneath you.

“Y/n, it’s not fair” the way his morning voice sounds makes you clench at nothing, fluttering your eyes shut before letting out an over exaggerated whimper “but you never said there are any rule but to have an actual sex and we aren’t having sex right now, aren’t we sir?” You batted your eyelash at him as you lick your lips slowly.

Spencer grunts, before gripping your hips and threw you onto the bed— his hand immediately settled itself on your neck, fingers right on top of your pulse pressing down. “Fine, kitten. You wanna play that way? we’ll play that way, but just know that i will always win so be ready to get ruined tonight” your parted your lips due to the lack of oxygen, letting out a bratty remark “Talk is c-cheap, sir”

Spencer’s eyes fluttered shut as he try to compose himself, but then he realized how you’re playing the game— he’s damn good at his job after all. So when you thought he was loosing it, he kept his calm and get off of you, before pressing a soft kiss on your cheeks.

“Happy anniversary baby, I love you. Let’s get ready for work okay?” and at that he’s walking to the shower, leaving you breathless and confused. Your hand itching to slip itself between your thighs, god you are soaking.

————

After an excruciatingly long shower and breakfast, you headed upstairs to change your clothes. As you were about to open your closet, Spencer calls you from the bedroom.

“Y/n, i want you to wear this today.”

You stepped into the bedroom as you see the outfit he laid on the bed, casual work outfit, a blouse, coat, and dress skirt— but what you see next is what makes your jaw dropped. The damn panties. For your 6 month anniversary, Spencer got you two sets of vibrating panties, the one he can actually control with his cellphone, now you’ve wore it dozens of times but never on the job, and definitely not when you’re in some type of game like this.

“Spencer that’s not fair!” You whined loudly and cross your arms in front of your chest, knowing damn well that if you wear the panties, you’ll lose immediately.

“But just like you said, No rules right? so as far as i’m concerned you’ll still obey every command i give you unless you safe word, isn’t that right baby?” Oh the bastard is definitely smug now,

“y-yes! but—“

“ah ah rules are rules princess, so unless you say the word, put on the damn panties and address me properly, it’s doctor or sir.” You’re definitely loosing but you damn will go down fighting.

————

Your team definitely realized that something is up between you and spencer, it’s 10 now and you’ve both been on your phones all day, Emily even noticed how you kept bang your knee against the desk today, which earned her a smile from you and a whisper of “oh just nervous tics” If only she knows how cruel these stupid panties are, you thought.

Spencer may have the upper hand but you certainly doesn’t make it easy for him either, every so often you will pass by his desk, and pretend to bend over to pick something you ‘accidentally dropped’ or rubbing his bulge underneath the table as you went to a nearby cafe for lunch with Morgan and Prentiss. and you can’t forget how flushed he becomes when you call him ‘Dr.Reid’ almost every time you talk to him. At one point you got him so good that he’s this close to pinning you on the nearest wall and just have his way with you. But Spencer is not one to lose, and you knows that better than anyone.

As the night comes, you and Spencer are right on the edge— just wanting to literally tear each other’s clothes off. Most of the people are already gone, That being JJ who left early because Henry is sick, Hotch and Rossi were on a meeting downstairs and Morgan got a date. Lastly, Penelope and Emily is picking up a classified unsolved murder case file from the police department, which meant you and spencer has approximately an hour before Hotch and Rossi finishes their meetings or Penelope and Emily went back.

Of course, Spencer caught on that too, that’s why you’re struggling to not moan due to the immense pleasure you’re feeling between your thighs, all day today he never set the settings to the highest level because he may be cruel but he knows your limit— but now, now is the perfect time to win.

Your legs starts to shake feeling yourself getting so close that you know you can’t take it anymore. Shakily reaching your phone, you typed in a message quickly,

“You win. The empty office near storage, now” you typed in quickly, dragging yourself to the office near Garcia’s den and leaning against the desk, muttering curses of swear words.

“Normally i would be mad at you for demanding that way but seeing how needy you seemed, i decided to be nice and let that slide” You turned around before hurriedly locking the door behind him, reached down to grab his phone and turn off the vibration— steadying your breathing as you lean against his chest.

“you a-are mean” you blurted out, gnawing your teeth at the base of his collar, fingers clawing at his dress shirt as you greedily rub your nipples against his front— god you’ll do absolutely anything for this man.

“Oh you thought that was mean? I’ll give you mean, you little slut” He whispered and laughed deeply beside your ear— earning himself a moan from you.

Your eyes widen as he effortlessly carried you to the center of the room where the desk sat, and place you down on the edge of it, His fingers skillfully taking your blouse off as his lips are against yours in a bruising kiss.

He trailed his kisses downwards, biting and licking the pulse point on your neck as his hand brush so delicately against your clothed panties— you moaned out loudly as you buck your hips and grip his hair. Spencer looks up at you before shaking his head disappointedly, taking off his belt, tying your hands on your back, and shove his tie onto your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Now there you go, my helpless baby. Just enjoy this and don’t make a sound” He whispered before bending down to take your panties off, sliding them down your legs and bunch your skirt up around your waist before taking his own pants off and grip the base of his cock,

“Ready sweetheart?” He breathlessly asked, laughing when he pretend to be shocked when you can’t answer, shakes his head before pushing himself into you slowly— “oh fuck, so tight— and warm” he grunts against your neck.

Your head thrown back as you feel him start to move, your muffled moans could be heard as you feel the intense pleasure from the way his cock brushes against your sweet spot everytime he thrusts into you, pulling his tie from your mouth.

“Thats it baby, keep quiet alright? we don’t want anyone to find out how needy and messy you are. So good for me, my good girl” He praised and praised, which makes you mewl, trying to suppress it as best as you could. “Oh! ah ah! Sir please!” You aren’t even sure what is it you’re begging anymore, you just need him to keep fucking you and make you cum.

“please what? hm? please what sweet girl?” His breathing is heavy as he pounds his cock with a brutal pace, feeling himself getting close, as your walls clenched around him “Such a tight cunt.” He groaned. “Please— m-may i cum? please sir! i’ve been good” you gripped the sides of his belt as you feel your high right on the teetering edge, letting out a loud scream as soon as he said,

“Cum, Now. Do it for me, cum baby— fuck that’s it, good girl” every praises spill out of his lips as he keeps on pounding you, before letting himself release inside you, making you whine in sensitivity and the filling of being full- full of him. After cleaning yourself up, you checked the clock, that shows you’ve been there for an hour and few minutes, sighing as you tried to stand up

“I love you, Spencer Reid” Your legs wobble when youre about to fall, Spencer immediately catch you and steady you up on your feet, slightly chuckling “I love you too baby, happy anniversary”. After few more kisses and some steadying, you walked out of the empty office back to your desks in the bullpen, smiling to yourself as you look around to find that no one’s there.

Except, you never bothered to look in the right direction— garcia thought as she tried to erase the memory of seeing the team’s two babies fucking like animals. Oh well thank god it wasn’t Morgan.

————

THANK YOU FOR READING, PLEASE REBLOG, AND LEAVE A LIKE❤️

[nctsjiho]

Alternate Universe

warnings: mention of COVID. This is was meant to be pure fluff ngl, but you might’ve guessed it, that’s not how it turned out.

era: May 2021

❀ During a sleepover in JiHo’s new apartment, she and Renjun imagine how life would be if NCT never met each other

“Okay, but with space being infinitely big, who says there can’t be multiple universes. And maybe, one of those universes could be an alternate universe similar to ours.” JiHo hummed as she listened to Renjun’s rant - which had been going on for about 30 minutes at this point. She pulled her blanket up to her chin and closed her eyes. “Do you think we’d still have met in that universe? Do you think NCT exists there?”

JiHo let out a deep sigh, “Go to sleep Renjun, it’s already past 1.” She turned her head to look at Renjun who was slightly pouting and she let out a small chuckle. “I just wonder how things would’ve been if we hadn’t met each other.” Renjun then locked eyes with the girl. “Any of us.”

Sitting up straight against the arm rest of her new L-shaped couch, JiHo stretched her arms. Renjun mirrored her action on the other end of the couch, curious as to why JiHo did so, she had been nagging him to shut up and sleep earlier anyway.

“As for me...” She trailed off. Renjun took notice of how JiHo’s eyes had focused on nothing particular. Even in the dimly lit room he could see how her eyes looked so bright yet charming. He never told anyone, but JiHo’s greenish eyes were one of his favourite things to look at. They were so pretty and interesting. Not only was she the only member who didn’t have just brown eyes, but something about them had him get lost in her eyes whenever he got the chance to look at them closely.

JiHo coughed before continuing. “I’d be in France right now. Probably had a reckless childhood with my weird friends and helping out at my grandparents’ pension.” Even though Renjun felt sad that he wasn’t part of that alternate-universe-childhood, he couldn’t help but smile when JiHo did. Reminiscing the childhood she had and imagining how it would’ve continued if she’d never gone to Korea to become an idol made her feel nostalgic in a sense. She didn’t get to experience it, but she could imagine it as if it really happened.

“I’d probably have a dog and live a normal middle-class, country side, family and friends oriented life. Maybe continued on with rope skipping and actually go semi-professional.” She contently sighed. “What about you?” JiHo’s eyes fell on Renjun’s shadowy figure. The light coming from the window only hit the far side of his body, so JiHo couldn’t really make out much of his appearance.

“I don’t know. I actually don’t know.” JiHo laughed softly. “Oh, don’t tell me you theorised about aliens, alternate universes, ghost, any kind of supernatural, but you’ve never thought about life without NCT?” Her mocking, yet innocently playful tone elicited a chuckle from him. “I guess I would’ve went on with school and worked hard to get into a good university so I could get a good job.”

“And your art? You’re really talented, you could do something with that.” The unexpected compliment casted a pink tinge on Renjun’s cheeks and he was so happy JiHo couldn’t make it out in the darkness of the room. “Hm. Maybe.” He hummed bashfully.

The two sit in silence for a bit before Renjun speaks up again. “How is it living here?” The sudden break in silence makes JiHo jump the tinniest bit and her head quickly turns to face Renjun. He laughs. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

His eyes scan the room, or at least what he can see of it. He already got used to the dark, so he could the silhouettes of all the furniture in the spacious apartment. The living room, kitchen and dining era was bigger than those in most of the NCT dorms, but this apartment only had 2 bedrooms, a bathroom, a toilet and a small dressing room - it might as well just be a closet. It looked way more trendy than his dorm. “Esteem must have some good money.” He thought.

“It looks nice.” He then looked at JiHo, awaiting her response. “It looks nice yeah.” Her voice sounded way less chipper than it did before. “Why? Do you not like it?” Once again, JiHo’s head snaps up. “No, I do like it. It’s pretty big, not too much furniture so it’s easy to clean. My bedroom is big enough for a queen size bed. It’s nice.” “You don’t seem too happy about it though.”

Jiho sighed and let her body fall back down in a lying position on the couch. “It’s lonely.” She stated simply. No other explanation, just those two words. “What about your manager?” Renjun asked, but then he remembered. He, and no one of the other members who have visited her over the past two weeks had really seen her manager. Maybe one or twice in passing, but the manager wasn’t in the apartment for more than an hour whenever they came over.

A groan escaped the sleepy girl’s lips as she stretched her arms out in front of her. “She’s still managing for another talent under Esteem. And that person has a lot of schedules currently, so my manager is just out working all the time.” “But we come by often, and you come over to the dorms as well.” JiHo nodded, not necessarily for Renjun to see, she didn’t think he would either way, but he did. “So?” “It’s only the second time someone stayed over here. Which I really enjoy by the way.” She quickly added as not to offend Renjun because of her rather gloomy tone.

“It’s just that whenever I come back home, whether it’s from the company or from your guys’ dorms, I just get hit by the fact that I’m alone in this apartment.” Renjun sympathised with the girl, understanding why it could make her feel lonely. “Not only that, it also makes me realise that NCT really is all I have. I don’t have many other friends, or at least not those who I hang out with. It’s only you guys.”

Not wanting to face Renjun, whether he was able to see the disheartened look on her face or not, JiHo pulled her blanket up to her chin again. “My family lives about 12 plus hours away by plane. I haven’t seen them in six years, and quite frankly, I’m not sure when I get to see them again.”

Renjun felt his stomach sink a little as JiHo slowly lost her ability to hide her real feelings. Each word sounded more and more painful to utter, sounded like it took more energy, it just felt so sad.

In an attempt to cheer JiHo up, Renjun spoke up. “Hey, once COVID is over, you should just get on a plane and visit them.” JiHo let out a bitter laugh and it makes Renjun’s heart clench. Did he say something wrong?

“You don’t think that in those six years I could’ve just gotten on a plane and visited them?” JiHo asked, her tone sounding just as, if not more bitter then her laugh just a second earlier. “Don’t you think that my family could’ve just jumped on a plane and visited me?” She scoffed. Of course it wasn’t directed to Renjun, rather the situation itself, but the boy couldn’t help but feel a bit targeted. He didn’t blame her though, it must of been so frustrating for her.

“Do you mind me asking why it didn’t happen then?” JiHo looked at Renjun, who had pushed himself up further on the couch, his legs now crossed in front of him. “There’s literally no reason it didn’t happen before. It doesn’t make sense that I never went back or that my family never came here. It’s just like this.” “But- How?” Renjun felt so confused, it really didn’t make sense.

JiHo sat up as well and stared out in front of her at the window. “Whenever I wanted to go SM or the managers always made up some excuse. It was either schedule conflict, or I had problems with my visa in my trainee days, or I had a last minute meeting. SM never let me buy my family plane tickets and whenever they would tell me they’d come visit, they would always cancel last minute for something that happened. After a while I just stopped asking.” Renjun carefully stood up after JiHo’s confession. “And after a while, my family stopped planning to come.”

It went unnoticed by JiHo that Renjun had moved over towards her. She looked to the side to see her friend already sit next to her on the couch. “I didn’t know. I’m so so sorry.” JiHo shook her head. “It’s not your fault.” She responded, a silence fell over them once again.

Renjun watched as the gears inside of Jiho’s head kept turning. He felt so bad for everything she had to go through is silence. Everything she hid from everyone. All of it was just extra weight in her backpack full of worries and burdens.

He grabbed her hand which had fallen limply next to her lap. The touch making her snap out of her thoughts. “It just doesn’t make any sense.” She kept shaking her head. “Someone inside of SM must have been talking to my family, or maybe they felt betrayed when I left to Korea-” “Never.” Renjun interrupted, not wanting JiHo to even entertain that thought. “Maybe they got mad that I kept cancelling my visits.” Her head still continued shaking from left to right as if she was in denial, and to be honest she was. “Make it make sense Renjun.” Her voice cracked as her eyes locked with Renjun’s.

The same eyes that seemed to light up the dark room earlier felt devoid from all it’s usual brightness and youthfulness. On most days the green in her eyes reminded Renjun of jade, cool and charming, on other days it reminded him of nature, energetic and playful, but right now the green was so dull and was barely visible between the brown colour of the rest of her irises.

Renjun squeezed JiHo’s hand lightly. “I’m so sorry JiHo, I don’t know.” This causes JiHo to nod and let her eyes wander back to the window. “If I could I’d move back in with Haechan and the boys.” Renjun’s eyes stayed focussed on JiHo’s hand. It made him happy that her dainty fingers fit perfectly interlaced with his. The boy was used to holding for example Jisung’s hand, which was way bigger than his own and even though they fit into his as well, it was a different kind of fit. With JiHo’s hand he felt a sense of protectiveness and responsibility, like he had to be the one to make sure JiHo wouldn’t get hurt.

“Chenle doesn’t live with you guys, but at least when he goes home he has his family. Whether it’s his parents or his aunt, he has family with him all the time. As for me...” She trailed off. “This place doesn’t feel like a home at all. I was perfectly happy living with the boys. You guys are all the family I have here.” JiHo released a big breath as if she had just done a physical exercise that required a lot of energy.

Her eyes then fell onto Renjun and her intertwined hands, smiling at the way Renjun absentmindedly drew hearts on the back of her hand. “I love my parents and grandparents. I really do.” Renjun got startled by JiHo’s desperate tone, as if she was trying to prove him of her love for her family. “I know-” “I would like to believe I’d do anything to see them.” “And you would.” Renjun smiled assuring, even if his smile showed sadness. “I don’t think that’s true Renjun.”

JiHo’s breath hitched for a second before she made eye contact with her worried friend. “I could’ve just went. I could’ve not listened to SM and went. If I truly loved my family as much-” “Don’t say that JiHo.” Renjun scolded carefully, but JiHo just shook her head. “If I loved them so much, wouldn’t I have done it? I got on a plane to China for Xiaojun behind our managers back once for God’s sake.” She took a few seconds to calm her breathing. “Why haven’t I gone and visited my family?”

“You’re scared.” JiHo’s eyes widened in confusion. “What?” “You’re scared aren’t you? That going back might not be what you imagined it to be. But why does that matter? It’s your family, they love you and miss you just as much as you love and miss them.”

A wave of realisation hit JiHo and she felt tears well up in her eyes. Throwing her head back she tried her best to stop them from flowing and from more forming in her eyes.

Once the tears subsided she looked at Renjun who had a soft smile on his lips. “I’m scared that if I go back, that I’ll realise how much I actually missed my family.” Renjun laughed slightly amused. “What’s wrong with that?” “If I go...” She started and Renjun nodded along with her words, yet his smile faded as soon as JiHo uttered her next words.

“I might realise I don’t want to come back here again.”

---

Side Note: I wanted to write for Renjun for soooo long! This was based on a cute/funny prompt I found on Tumblr, but literally a few paragraphs in and my mind went “let’s make it a bit angsty”. This might be one, if not my favourite writing I’ve done so far <3 I hope you all liked it as well.

I know my content hasn’t been as good lately so I hope this writing will get me back on track a bit. I definitely have to do something about my inability to think of good titles tho O.O

I hope you have a nice day/evening/night <3

[missymurphy1985]

The Umbrella Girl (part 6)

The Aftermath of your night with Cillian...

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @noctvrnalmoth @ysmmsy

Warnings - language, mentions of baby loss, smut (this got long... Sorry!!)

The morning after your night with Cillian had gone incredibly well, considering. Your mum was surprised to see him the following morning, but she was one of the most liberal people you knew - and she adored Cillian too, especially after the cooked breakfast he'd knocked up. Emily had arrived home with Steph later that day and Steph pulled you to one side to talk to you alone.

"Lisa's gone crazy y/n.. she's already contacted the Sun, the story's going live tomorrow morning... It's all over social media.." You took a deep breath and Steph hugged you tight. The sound of Cillian's phone in the background interrupted you, you had a feeling you knew who it was. He came into the living room to join the two of you so Emily and your mum didn't overhear anything in the kitchen. Steph left the two of you alone.

"All you have is one side of the story Mr Grayson.... No I'm not prepared to give a statement yet..... Yes I'm aware of the implications... Again, I'm not interested in giving a statement... Call me again and I'll have your job Grayson, delete my number!" You could see the anger rising in his eyes and you swiftly took the phone from him before he said something he'd regret and ended the call, turning his phone off. He wrapped his arms round you and held you tight, you could feel the emotion rising in him.

"It's okay. It'll be okay... I promise..." Suddenly two little arms wrapped round you both, Emily looked up at the two of you sadly.

"Cillian crying?" She whispered, and he lifted her up into his arms to give her a big hug. Your heart lurched watching your child wrap her arms round his neck tight.

"I'm better now I've had that hug Emily... Thank you." He kissed her cheek affectionately and smiled at you, nodding. He was okay. For now.

"I'm gonna head home y/n... I have a feeling my publicist will want a word or two. I'll call you later, okay?" He kissed you, still holding Emily who giggled at him as he tickled under her ribs. "You gonna take care of your mama?" She nodded and he placed her back on the floor letting her run back into the kitchen. Saying a quick goodbye to your mum and Steph, he kissed you again before opening the front door. He quickly came back inside and closed it again.

"Fucking press are out there y/n... There's dozens of them... The fuck do I do?"

"Shit... Did they see you?"

"I think so.." he ran his fingers through his hair and leaned against the wall.

"Stay here. Call your publicist from my room upstairs, tell him EVERYTHING. He needs to know before it comes out tomorrow.. he'll know what to do?" Cillian nodded, and headed upstairs, turning his phone back on.

CILLIAN MURPHY IN BABY SCANDAL!!

Former Peaky Blinders Personal Assistant Lisa Tyler reveals she lost her and Cillian's baby as a result of the stress caused when he refused to have anything to do with their baby... even going as far as to claim she wasn't even pregnant. Their affair began six months before Murphy's wife, Cassie, left him, speculating she found out about the affair which led to their divorce last year. Murphy is yet to make a formal statement, however he did threaten to have our entertainment reporter, Len Grayson, fired yesterday when we contacted him. His temper clearly something he needs to keep in check.

Cillian's head sank into his hands, he couldn't read the rest. The front page even had a blurred out screenshot of the sex tape Lisa had made, next to a photo of Lisa holding a baby scan photo - not her scan, clearly, she was only 2 weeks pregnant when the miscarriage happened, but for the purposes of the story the image just added to the drama.

There were reports the tape was now all over the internet - the date mark clearly photoshopped to make it look like it had been filmed months before it actually was, but the untrained eye wouldn't spot that. She'd given the Sun all of the details - nothing left out. His publicist had gone ballistic the day before when Cillian told him. Even his ex wife had called him to berate him. His family didn't believe a word of it - they of course knew the truth and were standing by him unconditionally.

You sat next to him on your bed and held his hand. He hadn't left your house since Friday night, too worried about facing the paparazzi outside, but he needed a change of clothes - he had to face them today whether he liked it or not.

"Want me to come with you?" You asked him, resting your head on his shoulder.

"No.. I can't drag you into this any more than I already have y/n.. this isn't fair.. you don't deserve this. Emily doesn't deserve this..."

"Don't you dare Cillian... Don't you dare push me away now!" He looked into your eyes and put his hands either side of your face.

"I couldn't push you away now if I tried.. please don't leave me y/n?"

"I told you, I'm not going anywhere! Come on. We need to do this sooner or later... Hand in hand, remember?" You stood up, taking his hand and led him down the stairs. Your mum with Emily in the living room. You both walked in hand in hand, and Emily rushed to Cillian. The two of them had spent the weekend playing tea parties and dolls, they'd become thick as thieves. He'd charmed your mum all weekend, cooking meals and helping with the cleaning - you were worried your mum loved him more than you did, because that's exactly how you felt. You wanted him completely, and had fallen for him hard.

He put Emily down and looked to you.

"You sure you want to do this?"

"Shut up, Murphy." He laughed, and kissed your hand, leaning in to kiss your cheek. Leaving your mum and daughter in the living room you both made your way outside to the waiting reporters, statement ready. You wouldn't speak, simply hold his hand for support and let him do it.

Approaching the cameras, Cillian took a breath and told his side. Essentially repeating everything he'd told you that day in Sophie's trailer, but with less emotion. His publicist had warned him not to get emotional - the papers would simply rip him apart even more. You stood to the side, hand in his, squeezing it now and then, as he came to the end of his speech.

"This lady has completely bowled me over. Without her, I couldn't have faced you today," he looked back at you and cleared his throat. "I'd ask, politely, that you give us space. Respect the privacy I've always requested in good faith. Allow us to deal with this privately and together. What's been said about me isn't all true. I was never unfaithful to my wife of 21 years.

I have made mistakes. Show me a man who hasn't? I have hurt people. I have disappointed people. I have let people down. What happened with Lisa and the baby was tragic... It was a tragic accident. Yes, I was angry. Yes, I doubted the baby was mine, and no, I'm not proud of my actions. I've nothing else to say on the matter, and I repeat, respectfully, that I'd appreciate privacy for myself and my family now. Thank you." You both made your way to his car, ignoring the barrage of questions from the paparazzi, and Cillian kissed your cheek before getting in and driving away. You walked back into the house, closed the door and fell into your mum's waiting arms, finally letting out the tears you'd been holding all weekend.

That week's filming was, fortunately, smooth sailing. Not a single person on Peaky believed the venom Lisa had been spouting in the media, and even Cillian's ex wife had been convinced of his innocence over a course of phone calls and texts. Anto had instructed that you cancel any media interviews Cillian had planned in order for him to keep as low a profile as possible. For the most part, it was business as usual. You were all meant to have a week's break, but with the situation as it was, it was agreed across the cast and crew that the sooner you all finished filming the better so the week off was cancelled. As disappointed as Cillian was not to be going home to Dublin for a week, it meant an extra week with you, so he wasn't complaining too much.

You were sat in Cillian's trailer, a cold, miserable Friday morning. The story had been out for nearly a week and the media circus was showing no signs of calming down. There were even random women sharing 'kiss and tell' stories now that were completely false, Cillian had never even met these women, never mind had sex with them. His head was laid back on the sofa cushions his hands over his eyes rubbing them tightly. He hadn't slept properly since Sunday. You made your way over to sit across his knees and pulled his upper body into your own, holding him tight to your chest as you stroked his hair gently.

"You need sleep Cill, you're not doing yourself any favours. Plus, Steph is sick of wasting her expensive eye cream on you covering those suitcases under your eyes," you chuckled, making him laugh a little under you. He ran his hands softly up your back making you shudder. You hadn't slept together since Sunday either - his mind too preoccupied.

His hands soon snaked underneath your t-shirt, making you arch you hips slightly closer to his. He lifted you off him, and sat you on the sofa next to him. You were about to ask what he was doing, before his body was hovering over yours, his lips attacking your neck. Your fingers began unbuckling his belt and jeans, pulling them down to his ankles allowing his hard cock to spring in front of you. Without missing a beat, you took him into your mouth, his hands gripping the back of the sofa behind you as you licked slowly up his shaft. Pumping the base of his cock with one hand and taking the tip into your mouth, bobbing your head over him quickly. This was not going to be your usual slow, sensual session, but neither of you wanted that right now.

"I'm not coming in your mouth y/n... Turn around..." he pulled you up and bent you over the sofa, your skirt now hitched up over your waist and your underwear pulled down to your ankles. He ran his tongue slowly against your slit, his hands squeezing your thighs. You were already wet for him after days of no physical contact.

"I need you inside me Cillian, please...." You raised your hips up, he groaned as pushed himself inside you until you felt him flush against your thighs. His thrusts quickly becoming hard and fast, pounding into you as you gripped onto the sofa, panting his name.

"Stop... Wanna ride you... Sit down..." He spun the two of you round, never leaving your warm core as he sat on the sofa, you were now on top of him with your back pushed forwards. You held onto the table in front of you for leverage and moved your hips in circles over his thick length, buried deep inside you. He pulled you back into his chest, his hand now between your legs rubbing your clit as he thrust up into you sharp, hard, and fast. The new angle hitting your sweet spot inside with a new level of intensity.

"Fuck... I'm gonna come Cillian... Don't stop..." Your walls clenched around him as you came harder than ever, your juices flowing from you onto the sofa underneath, his release following quickly with a deep, gutteral groan. He rested his head on your shoulder, and you felt his breathing becoming shallow, before his eyes closed softly into a deep sleep. You eased yourself off him slowly and cleaned yourself up, before laying him down on the sofa with a cushion under his head and a blanket over his half naked body. He barely made a sound as he slept. Kissing him gently on the head, you straighted out your clothes before heading out of the trailer. Luckily he wasn't due on any scenes for a couple of hours at least.

Your phone pinged with a group message to you and Cillian from his sister, Orla, you could see 4 missed calls from her too. Opening the message, you nearly dropped your phone in shock.. a video of Cillian's house in Dublin... Surrounded by fire engines and police cars, smoke bellowing from a window downstairs...

The scream from the trailer behind you could've woken the dead...

[fred-george-fic]

In the Middle Pt. 2

Cedric x Reader & George x Reader (Eventually)

A/N: This is kind of a large chapter, but if I didn’t include the date, it would’ve been an extremely short chapter. So, I hope you enjoy! (P.S. As always if you have any questions or suggestions, feel free to comment or message me!)

Summary: Back to Hogwarts we go! Plus a first date with a special someone. 

Pairing(s): Cedric x Reader & George x Reader (eventually)

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Slight angst? Snogging?

Masterlist:~Part 1~

Back to Hogwarts

You stand there on platform 9 and ¾ with the Weasley family, Harry and Hermione. Everyone is saying their goodbyes to Arthur and Molly, thanking them for everything they did for you this summer. As you take a step back, you see Cedric and his father out of the corner of your eye. Cedric notices you looking over at him and gives you a slight wave. You return the greeting, tucking your hair behind you hear and return your attention back to the group.

You and Cedric had been sending each other a few letters over break and since you were staying at the Burrow, George and Fred constantly teased you about it. The contents of the letters were typical chatting, mostly just a way to keep it touch after the horrors of the Qudditch World Cup. He originally sent the first letter just to make sure you were okay, but you had continued to send them back and forth.

“Y/N! Let’s go! If we want to get our booth, we have to get on now!” George yells while walking towards the train with Fred. Molly grabs your shoulder before you begin walking towards the train to stop you.

“Please do your best to keep them out of trouble, dear. Who knows what hijinks those two will get into this year” Molly says pulling you into a large hug. “And be safe yourself, you’re more than welcome to stay with us again.”

“Thank you, Molly. I’ll do my best!” You return the hug, give her a slight wave and run onto the train, finding George and Fred in your usual booth.

--------

You sit in the Great Hall, wedged between Fred and George, watching the first years get sorted into their respective houses, cheering whenever one gets picked for Gryffindor. After they get sorted, Professor Dumbledore announces that there will be no Quidditch this year, due to a special event. This causes a lot of yelling in the Great Hall, especially from you and the twins. Dumbledore quickly continues introducing the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Mad-Eye Moody, who continuously drinks out of a little flask. As he continues on, he announces the beginning of the Triwizard Tournament which will begin at the end of October on Hallowe’en giving the winner fame and one thousand Galleons. But, that no student under the age of 17 will be allowed to participate.

“That’s rubbish!” George and Fred shout in unison, riling up other students around them. Soon, murmurs and shouts continue throughout the hall. Ever since they won their bet and were never given the money, the twins knew this could be their last resort for opening the shop.

“SILENCE!” Dumbledore shouts, quickly quieting the entire hall. “The rules of the tournament are final. There is no room to discuss them any further.” With that, Dumbledore turned around and took his seat at the table.

As you leave the Great Hall, you hear your name being called from behind. “Cedric?” You asked as you turned around, just in time to see the yellow and black robes rounding the corner.

“Y/N.” He said with a brilliant smile but just continued to look at you

“Yes?” You looked at him, confused on why he was just staring. You waved a hand in front of his face. “Are you alright?”

“Sorry, I just got lost in thought” He shook his head. “How would you feel about going to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”

“Like a date?” You smile and look up at him.

“Exactly like a date.” He smiles back, looking extremely pleased.

“I would be delighted.” You blush. 

“Great, I’ll meet you outside your common room around 12.” He waves goodbye and turns around looking back at you with a smile before returning to the first years to lead them to the Hufflepuff common room. You could hear their murmurs about dating outside the houses and if you were his girlfriend. You hear him say “I’m working on that part” before rounding the corner.

“Did Pretty Boy Diggory just ask you on a date?” You look behind you and notice Fred and George leaning against the wall.

“We’re already becoming second best, Fred.” George says shaking his head.

“Didn’t even notice us coming out of the Great Hall.” Fred exclaims, throwing up his hands and walking towards the common room. 

“This is what happens when I don’t have two boys hovering over me.” You laugh and follow behind them.

“If you wanted that then you shouldn’t have sat in our booth during our first year.” Fred teased.

“You really should’ve planned your life better six years ago.” George retorts.

“If I would’ve know you two were this annoying, I just might have.” Your laughing continues as the boys look at you with false hurt in their eyes. “Are you two upset about the tournament?”

“Oh, don’t worry we have a plan.” They both looked back at you with a mischievous grin.

-------

The weekend came quickly, as the castle continuously buzzed with excitement over the Triwizard tournament. You, Hermione and Ginny were all up on Saturday morning. Both of them trying to help you pick out what to wear. You settled on your nicest jumper and a skirt. You thank Ginny and Hermione and make your way down to the common room to eat before Cedric came to pick you up. The moment you reach the end of the stairs and go into the common room, you see both Fred and George relaxing on one of the couches. As you attempt to walk by, they both notice you immediately.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Fred says, getting up from the couch, putting an arm around your shoulder to stop you from leaving.

“I was trying to go get some breakfast.” You say rolling your eyes, weaving out of his arm. “Do you two care to join me?” 

“Gladly” George says getting up from the couch and following you out of the common room. 

“So, Timber. Did you get all dressed up for Diggory?” Fred teased. You rolled your eyes and blushed slightly, trying to hide it.

“Busted!” Fred laughed and George followed suit.

As you walk into the Great Hall, you immediately feel someone staring at you. As you look over at the Hufflepuff table, you meet Cedric’s eyes. He was in the middle of a conversation and immediately stopped. This caused his friends to look over and notice you as well. Cedric beamed, giving you his brightest smile. You felt your face getting hot and began walking quicker to the Gryffindor table. You sneak one last glance over at Cedric, whose smile has fallen, staring directly at the Weasley twins, as his friend whispered something in his ear. You let out a sigh as you sat down at the table and began to grab a small portion of breakfast. 

“Alright, what’s wrong?” George asked, nudging you with his elbow.

“My relationship with Cedric is over before it even began.” You motion with you head towards the Hufflepuff table, where Cedric has continued his conversation, occasionally casting glances at the three of you. “He thinks I fancy one of you or vice versa.”

“That’s mad!” Fred says sharing a glance with George, that you do not seem to notice. “On the bright side, he hasn’t come to cancel your date, so you should have time to clear everything up.”

“I guess you’re right.” You play with your food, occasionally taking a bite as the boys change the subject and chat among themselves.

“What’s wrong with her?” You hear Ron ask as he sits across from you with Harry, Hermione and Ginny. You groan and the twins tell the group what had happened that morning.

“I mean; you do spend an awful lot of time together.” Harry says grabbing a portion of food. “Not that it’s a bad thing or anything! But it can be intimidating.”

“We’re a package deal!” Fred and George say in unison, both putting their arms around you.

“Yes, the host and her two parasites.” You laugh as the twins put their hands over there heart in mock heartbreak. 

“Fred, how will we ever recover?” George teased.

“I don’t know George; this may be permanent damage.” Fred replied. Both twins immediately started laughing.

“Well, while you’re trying to recollect your pride, I am going to head back to the common room and wait for my date.” You get up from the table and start making your way to the common room. 

As you got out of earshot from the group, Fred immediately turns to George “You’re just going to let this continue? I thought you had a plan?”

“She obviously likes Diggory, I am not going to ruin that by sharing my own feelings.” George states, looking over at Cedric to ensure he can’t hear.

“But Geo-” Hermione starts.

“No.” He quickly says and shrugs “As long as she’s happy, I’m happy.” The others quickly drop the subject, with Fred glaring daggers at his twin knowing that he could make her happy if he’d just put himself out there.

-------

It’s almost twelve o’ clock now and you’re waiting outside the common room by yourself. It took some convincing, but you managed to get it through George and Fred’s heads that if they waited outside the common room with you, it would only make things worse. You hear the clock ring throughout the castle signaling that it is officially twelve. After about ten minutes’ pass by before you begin to worry that Cedric isn’t going to come. You’re about to walk back into the common room, when you hear loud footsteps approaching.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” Cedric claims as you turn around to face him, noticing him holding a pinkish flower at his side.

“Is that Vervain?” You look at the flower and then back up to Cedric.

“Is that what it’s called?” Cedric looked at the flower and then held it out to you. “I was late because I asked around what your favorite flower was. Hermione and Ginny didn’t know but remembered you picking the pink ones that looked like bells.”

You take the flower and smile down at it. “That’s so kind of you Cedric. These flowers actually have healing properties, specifically for mad dog bites. Let me go put it in my dorm, just a second” You quickly run upstairs, placing the flower on your chest and meet Cedric back outside.

“Ready to go?” Cedric holds out his hand to you.

“Absolutely.” You take his hand and begin walking towards Hogsmeade.

Once you arrive at Hogsmeade, you could see a number of students walking around, going in and out of shops. “I was thinking we could go to Honeydukes first and then head over to the Three Broomsticks for butter beer?” Cedric asked.

“Sounds lovely.” You respond and make your way over to Honeydukes taking in the various colors of the shop. 

“What’s your favorite?” Cedric asks, grabbing himself a liquorice wand. 

“Personally, I enjoy the glacial snowflakes.” You say grabbing a box off the shelf.

“I excepted some type of chocolate.” Cedric laughed and held out his hand. “Here, I’ll buy them for you.”

“Or, I can buy yours.” You say walking up to the counter with a grin on your face.

“No, I got it this time, maybe you can get the next.” He pays and hands you your box of glacial snowflakes, your fingertips brushing against each other lightly. “Shall we?”

You began your walk towards The Three Broomsticks with Cedric. While walking and having a pleasant conversation. He casual grabs your hand, you try not to focus on the warmth radiating into your cheeks and you continue the conversation. “So, next time? Are you implying that there will for sure be a next time?” You say looking over at him.

“Well, I at least hope there will be.” Cedric smiles at you as you reach The Three Broomsticks. “How about you find us a table and I’ll grab two butterbeers?”

As you enter inn, you notice a few students that you recognize from different classes scattered around. You find a table in the corner and Cedric quickly returns with the drinks. “Thank you.” You say grabbing the drink from him and he slides into the booth besides you.

“You’re welcome.” He smiles and takes a sip of his drink. “I really do have something to ask you.”

“Okay, what do you got?” You had a feeling you knew what this question was going to be about the Twins, but you did your best to keep a smile on your face.

“Do you fancy either of the Weasley twins? I just- see you with them all the time and my friends say they often see you laughing and flirting” He looks down at his drink, visibly embarrassed that he had to ask such a question, but you knew it was bothering him.

“Cedric-” You grab his hand. “They have been my best friends since our first year. You have nothing to worry about. They have been there for me in the darkest moments of my life, especially their family.”

Cedric turns to face you head on. “I’m sorry. I just saw you with them today and I grew concerned. You are just the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen; so I couldn’t imagine what other guys might be thinking.”

You blushed heavily and looked back down at your hands, your fingers interlaced with his. After finishing up the Three Broomsticks, you and Cedric walked back to Hogwarts hand in hand. As you both reach your common room, you turn to face each other. “Thank you. Today has been wonderful.” You say, smiling up at him.

“Y/N, do you remember at the quidditch world cup the conversation we were having before we were interrupted?” Cedric asked, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer.

You begin blush, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Yes?”

“Well, there was something I was going to do.” He says and starts leaning in closer to you. Just then his lips grazed yours, softly brushing against them sending shivers through your spine. You smiled and took a step away from him. “Goodnight Cedric.” You say with a slight wave and slide into the Gryffindor common room.

Once you enter, you notice Hermione sitting on the couch near the fireplace and plop down next to her. “Someone had a nice time.” She said looking up from her book and raising an eyebrow. You sigh and lightly touch your fingers to your lips.

[aiimaginesbts]

Eternal Summer (M)

Pairing: Jimin x Reader Genre: Loads of Angst | Fluff mixed in between | Smut | Childhood friends to lovers AU Warnings: Language | Alcohol | Masturbating | Rough sex | Public sex Word Count: 39k+ words

Disclaimer/Copyright

Summary:  Breaking up with my boyfriend leaves an empty spot on the overseas vacation that I had been looking forward to for a long time. I’m torn between abandoning the trip or going it solo when someone offers to tag along. However, having Jimin, my best friend go with me may not be the best idea — since my crush on him has never gone away.

Author’s Note: This is my fic for the ‘The Summer Bucketlist’ writing event hosted by @jamaisjoons​ with ‘Go sightseeing on a vacation’ as my prompt.

This grin just can’t be wiped off my face. While I’m aware that people passing by me are shooting me weird looks thanks to my humming, I don’t want to stop for their sake. I can barely hold myself from skipping down the street, lined with leafy trees on one side and boutique stores on the other – I’m that excited. The merciless rays of the late sun are welcome on my skin after weeks of slaving away even more than usual at work just so I can enjoy this long awaited vacation. It has completely paid off, since I’ve managed to settle everything I needed to with one day to spare. Everyone – myself included – expected me to be toiling away until the last minute. I even packed my luggage in advance, little by little, whenever I could, since I didn’t think I would have time to do it. So, with everything ready and time to spare, I head towards the only place I could think of going when I don’t know what to do with myself.

After making a stop at Se Hoon’s favourite restaurant to order take-out for dinner, I continue on my way towards his apartment. Since I plan to make this a surprise visit, he might still be working. Still, another glance at my watch convinces me that he will definitely be at home. Se Hoon prefers to work from home, so unless there’s work that he must settle at the office, he’s usually home by this time, even if he has to continue working there. It might mean that I’ll be shooed away while he finishes, but I don’t care. I’m content to just watch him as I eat my dinner. As long as I’m with him. We’ll be going together on vacation the day after tomorrow, but there’s no harm in starting early, is there? Plus, I’ve been too busy to see him lately. And the few scant times I could manage to get some time off, he would be busy instead. It seems like we’ve been missing each other for a while now, and I just miss being with someone.

Another fifteen minutes of walking and an elevator ride to the eighteenth floor later, I arrive in front of Se Hoon’s dark brown apartment door. I hesitate, wondering if I should let myself in or announce myself first. It has been a while since I’ve arrived here on my own, but recalling the times he got grumpy because he was interrupted to open the door for me way in the beginning of our relationship, I pressed the keys to unlock his door. No sense making him stop whatever he’s doing and come for me when I can open the door on my own.

Although I’ve been telling myself that I’m perfectly happy just to be in his presence this evening, my lips purse into a disappointed pout when I notice a pair of unfamiliar women’s black pumps at the entrance. It’s rare for Se Hoon to have visitors to his house, other than myself, but I suppose it’s safe to say that he isn’t done with work. At least his co-worker is willing to come over, so he doesn’t have to stay in the office. Otherwise I’d have arrived at an empty house.

Not wanting to interfere with his work by calling out, I kick off my similar, but lower, heels next to hers and start making my way inside. It has been a while since I’d had time to visit, but the surroundings are pretty much the same as I remember it from last time. Neither of us are the type of people to periodically arrange furniture, or make any changes at all, for that matter. Some people may find it boring, but I’m comfortable in its familiarity.

However, just a few steps in and my eyes land on an unexpected sight. A dark blue tie, adorned with a tiny white diamond pattern, lying on the floor. Se Hoon’s tie. I remember giving it to him for his birthday several months ago. Then a light pink shirt that I don’t recognise – I don’t pride myself on knowing Se Hoon’s wardrobe inside and out, but this shirt is way too small for him. My feet slow to a stop, but my breathing becomes laboured; like I’m running a marathon. Even though I scream in my head in denial, telling myself to turn around and not to continue looking, my eyes betray me by straying ahead, following the trail of clothes into his bedroom.

“Se Hoon?” I call out without thinking, but my voice comes out a croak, volume barely a whisper. The world I thought I had built solidly enough is crumbling under the soles of my feet. Familiar comfort no longer.

“Looks like our plane is here.”

Although my eyes are wide open and the world is bright, blinding even; the light from the sun is relentlessly shining through the gigantic glass panes of the airport, everything looks like a blur to me. I see vague shapes moving inconsequentially in my field of vision, but I can’t make out anything. The world hasn’t righted itself after it got thrown off its axis just yet. I’m dimly aware of where I currently am, of what brought me to this point. And yet in my mind, I’m still frozen in Se Hoon’s apartment two days ago.

While words cannot describe my feelings at the moment, I’m sure whatever combination of letters that the dictionary can come up with won’t be anything good. It doesn’t help that the voice that calls my name repeatedly in attempts to bring me back to reality is noticeably higher than Se Hoon’s. No, it isn’t even that. I wouldn’t be this bothered if it were anyone else’s voice. However, my best friend’s insistence that I return to Earth and get ready to board the plane throws my emotions into a jumbled mess. Forcing myself back to the present time, the surroundings gradually come into focus, like a camera lens finally being adjusted properly. “People are still getting off the plane, Jimin,” I grumble, sinking myself further into the chair in the waiting area petulantly. Maybe I don’t want to board this airplane after all.

This empty feeling has seeped in from yesterday. After a fitful sleep, I’d gotten out of my bed to stare at my luggage, all ready and packed for the next day. I wasn’t sure what time it was then; I’d rolled out of bed onto the floor and turning back to look at the small clock on my nightstand had felt like it would have consumed too much energy. All I knew was that dawn had not even broken yet, as the light blue curtains of my room, so useless at blocking even the smallest bit of light, were still dim. As my eyes slowly adjusted to the dark and started to trace the royal blue strips lining the white canvas, I’d thought about the times I’d chucked the things I wanted to bring into the bag. When I’d seen a shirt that Jimin had said looked good on me, I’d thrown it in there. The cap he’d bought me on a whim after he’d dropped by my office for an impromptu lunch. A pair of socks that Jimin had insisted matched with the pair that he’d bought, just because both pairs have a striped motif. Earrings that he’d helped me choose because Se Hoon couldn’t make it for our date that day. Perhaps he couldn’t make it because of that woman, and not because of work, like he’d claimed.

Hours must have flown by as I’d sat there brooding. Not even sure what I was thinking about – was it really all about Se Hoon? My mind feels empty, but I couldn’t believe that I’d just been blankly staring at the luggage in the corner of my room for so long. And yet I must have had, because when the sound of my vibrating phone grated my ears, making me jump out of my reverie, the room was already bright despite the drawn curtains.

Groaning from grumpiness and the aching of my back and ass from sitting in one spot for so long, I’d braced my right palm on the still-cool floor to twist my body and reach for my phone. “Ugh.” My fingertips had brushed against it, causing it to move forward and teeter off the edge of my nightstand. The next round of vibrations had led to a losing battle with its balance, but thankfully I’d managed to catch it before it made contact with the hard floor. The scramble to play hero to save my phone had left me on both my elbows, horizontal against the floor. By this time, the call had become a missed one. Probably gone to voicemail, but that hadn’t stopped me from glaring at the offending device.

Before I could even look at the screen properly to check who had called, I heard the sharp beeping of my front door lock keypad, quickly followed by the chime indicating a successful breach and the softer click of the door opening to the intruder. Then a call of my name greeted my ears, betraying the identity of the visitor and setting my frayed nerves at ease. In a split second, however, my shock had melted away, leaving mild irritation in its wake. At first I didn’t want to answer him. Let him search the whole place, I’d thought pettily, even while knowing that my bedroom would have been the first place he’d check, then changed my mind. “In here.”

Trust him to hear me even though I’d hardly raised my voice. His chipper, “’Morning!” had reminded me that he didn’t have a clue to what had transpired the previous evening, leaving me torn between two choices; remain in my miserable mood and risk him prying for the reason behind it, or put up a cheerful front. I’m supposed to go for the vacation I’d been looking forward to so much, after all.

In the end, my “’morning,” had come out as a sullen reply. Simply couldn’t be bothered with pretence when this guy was concerned. With my partner for the trip automatically cancelling less than twenty-four hours ago, he was going to unearth the source of my moodiness sooner or later, even if I’d pretended there was nothing wrong.

“What’s wrong?” He’d immediately quipped at my tone, joining me on the floor.

I’d narrowed my eyes at the luggage I’d refused to tear my eyes away from. Still, it was always annoying when Jimin would zero in on me like that.

“Just.”

Jimin had rested his back against the side of the bed next to me, keeping mum instead of answering. I’d always hated that he knew exactly how to handle me at times like these. Several minutes had passed as I’d stewed in silence, then inevitably worked out what I’d wanted to say, like he’d known I would. I’d let one or two more minutes go by, just to spite him, but in the end I’d relented with a resolved sigh.

He’d taken the cue to open his mouth. “Wanna grab brunch?”

Is it that late already? I’d thought, unwillingly softening just a bit more when he didn’t automatically repeat his first question. “Not now.” Holding fast onto my vast – though slowly depleting – reserves of gloominess and fury, I’d willed my stomach not to grumble just then. Under strict orders from my highly distressed brain, my stomach had cowered and obeyed, even as his question had evoked pangs of hunger. Another sigh, then, “I don’t know if I’m going tomorrow,” I finally gave in to the inevitable need to confess, if not my need to eat.

“What? Why?” He’d leaned forward in surprise. I’d wished he hadn’t. Despite not having shed a single tear, I’d had no idea what sort of expression I was making, or whether I had any control over it. Thoughts had been racing through my mind at uncontrollable speeds. Obviously I hadn’t used the time I’d had to think this all the way through. Should I tell him that I’d broken up with Se Hoon?

I hadn’t wanted to.

“Se Hoon has urgent business to attend to and can’t make it.” Ugh. Even uttering his name had made me want to spit and brush my tongue with a scrubber. Bringing my legs up, I’d buried my face in my knees, unable to bear the sight of Jimin’s brows furrowing with concern. Aside from the guilt I’d felt about lying to my best friend, the mix of emotions roiling inside me were – and still is – muddling. There was overwhelming outrage towards Se Hoon, which was not surprising. However, endless hours of pondering had made me realise that the nature of my grief was befuddling.

There had been no tears. Even after the shock of seeing Se Hoon in bed with another woman had worn off as I’d trudged all the way home, walking for about an hour instead of taking the subway, there had been no heartbreak over our failed relationship. When I’d finally reached home and collapsed on my bed, no burning tears had even threatened my eyes. Later in the shower, the only wetness had come from the metal pipes. I didn’t care about losing him. No, I’d thought, with Jimin’s presence solidifying my belief, I’m sad because I’m alone. Even when I was with Jimin – actually, because I was with Jimin – I’d felt so lonely. He made me feel hopeless. He made me feel like a loser. Especially now, I’d felt like I was worth nothing. No, I’d always felt like I was worthless when I was with Se Hoon, or with any of my other exes. That’s why I’ve always chased after a relationship. Because otherwise, I would be worth less than nothing.

It had made me all the more desperate not to let Jimin find out. Better to have him think that Se Hoon was being a jerk – which he was, and still is – by ditching me for work instead of finding out that we’d broken up. Jimin was sure to take great umbrage at Se Hoon – never mind that I  was the one who did the dumping – and would definitely demand to know the reason behind it. To tell him that I wasn’t even worth being faithful for… that would just take the ugly, miserable cake that is my life, wouldn’t it? I’d much rather die than come clean, so I’d pressed the truth as deep down as it could go, took a deep breath and turned to rest my chin on my knee, facing that frown painted on his adorably worried features.

“It’s work. You know how it is. Can’t be helped.” Tossed words accompanied by a cavalier shrug; hopefully passing it off as a small matter that I’d wanted it to appear like. There. It gave the impression that I had a responsible boyfriend, and I was being a magnanimous, understanding girlfriend. Plus, this way I could forge ahead with unloading my immediate problem to Jimin without seeming too pathetic. “But I don’t know if I want to go alone.”

“Hey, what’s the point of riding business if you’re going to zone out and queue with the people in economy?” Jimin’s irritated complaint as he swats my arm knocks me back to the present. Still in a daze, I let him grab my hand and pull me up and towards the air stewardess waiting to check the customers’ boarding passes without complaint, only having the presence of mind to hold my camera bag securely against my side. True, I was really torn between going on the trip alone or cancelling it altogether, but when I’d voiced my indecision to Jimin yesterday, I didn’t imagine that it would lead to this.

We zip past the long queue of people waiting to be allowed to board, all the way to the front. The sweet-looking stewardess takes a look at our documents and smiles, complimenting her rosy cheeks, made up carefully to look perfectly natural, ushering us in. As we stride towards the door to the aircraft, I can’t help but look at our connecting hands, then up towards his slender, but comforting back. Never in a million years would I have thought that he would actually offer to accompany me. In all actuality, ‘offer’ is too mild a word for what he did. After calling in to take a week off of work, then buying flight tickets while I’d showered, did he really think he left me with any choice?

He might have been right that not going just because Se Hoon couldn’t make it, after I’d worked my ass off to get a holiday, paid for the tickets and hotel, would be ridiculous. But I maintain that what he did in a span of less than thirty minutes – because it couldn’t have taken longer than that for me to shower – was the more inane of the two.

However, as we step inside the plane itself, past another stewardess welcoming us onto the flight, the reality of this finally starts to sink in. For the first time since I’ve become single, my face relaxes, and I can feel my whole body relaxing with it. While the cause of this current situation is unfortunate, the outcome is quite fortuitous. After settling in my window seat first, I glance towards Jimin, trying to get comfortable in the next seat over. I’m very aware that allowing myself to enjoy this, or even think about this, is idiocy of the highest degree. That it will just bring me more pain down the road. I know. Years of suffering had taught me that really well. Yet still, being the fool that I am, I don’t deny the giddiness of having Jimin come with me, instead of Se Hoon. Not to myself, at least. If it’s going to hurt me either way, might as well milk whatever joy I can get out of it, right? My future self will probably hate my current self later, so I apologise to her in advance in my head.

“Everything okay over there?” Jimin leans over the wide armrest to ask.

“Mm-hmm,” I answer simply, still half-lost in my thoughts. Sometimes I want to roll my eyes and laugh at myself. Whatever am I thinking, while Jimin is just trying to be a good friend? Imagination running wild can inject a really swift and powerful dose of euphoria, and goodness knows that my spirits need a bit of lifting, but prolonged daydreaming will not do anyone any good. Jimin is just a friend. Just a friend. Indulging in idyllic notions will just burn me in the end.

The process of achieving resolution is interrupted when the plane begins to move. It isn’t very obvious at first due to its size, but I notice it backing out into the runway. As it begins to pick up speed, I forget everything else; from depressing thoughts of being single, to silly fantasies. Turning to Jimin, I whisper excitedly; “My favourite part is coming!”

Before I can start to explain what it is, Jimin laughs and nods. “I know.”

Sitting back against the chair, I absorb the fact that Jimin remembers that I’ve told him before. It’s such a random piece of uninteresting information, but I suppose that’s what best friends pick up over the years. I’m sure I subconsciously collect seemingly useless information about him, too. Not wanting to miss it, I don’t comment any further, instead just grinning at him before shifting my attention towards the window. My heart rate picks up as the vehicle accelerates so rapidly that I feel myself getting thrown back into my seat, gaining momentum until it finally lifts itself up into the air. Sighing contentedly, I told Jimin; “It’s such a rush when the plane moves like that. Like our journey is truly starting, and we’re running towards it with all our might.” He just shakes his head with a chuckle at my childish delight. We’re already high enough that the view outside displays the landscape of Seoul city of buildings and cars. On any other day, I’d be down there somewhere. But not today. And while this may not have turned out exactly as I’d expected it to, I have no complaints about the arrangement now.

As though he’d picked up on my uplifted mood, Jimin asks jovially, “So, remind me, why did you choose to go to Malaysia?”

I remember telling him that I was the one who’d picked the holiday destination. This time, it’s not surprising that he remembers; the way my excited gushing about the trip had escalated as it had approached bordered on annoying, even I will admit that. “It’s a multicultural, multi-racial country, so there’s a diverse variety of things to explore,” I begin to explain, sounding like a tourist brochure, pause to consider, then confess. “Actually, we’re going to Penang, which is famous for having the best food.”

Even though his lips curl down, the way Jimin bites his plump lower lip and holds his shuddering body is a tell-tale sign that he’s not frowning; in fact, I know that he’s trying to hold back from laughing out loud. “Why am I not surprised?” Guffaws escape alongside his words, and I smack his shaking arms playfully.

“Shut up.” Although my pretense at affront is a tiny bit better than his attempt to keep a straight face, it’s impossible to hide the mirth dancing in my eyes. With impeccable timing, one of the stewardesses appears by our side to inquire about our choice of lunch. Ever a fan of chicken, I order without hesitation, whereas Jimin chooses pork as his protein.

“Mmm,” – is Jimin’s way of articulating the tastiness of his meal. “What’s the name of the place,” he picks up his boarding pass to sneak a peek at the name of our holiday destination before returning it into his seat pocket, “Penang food better top this.”

Of course, I have never been there, so I can’t guarantee anything. “If their food is that well known around the region, I should think that it’s better than airplane food.”

Both of us know that I’ve made a sound justification, and Jimin doesn’t have any comebacks. The journey grows quiet soon after, my full stomach encouraging my already heavy eyes to shutter closed. Our transfer in Bangkok, Thailand via Suvarnabumi Airport is a short, uneventful one, and from there, it’s a quick flight to our final destination. Watching the evening sky serving as the backdrop for the sun making a dramatic exit for the night is breathtaking. By the time we land, streaks of orange are all that remain of the sun’s waning presence, and a light smattering of stars twinkle, not to be outdone by the numerous city lights.

“So, are we going to take a taxi to the hotel?” Jimin wants to know our next move after retrieving our bags from the baggage claim carousel.

“Yep, but we won’t be using a taxi.” Armed with the WiFi device I’ve rented in advance, I breathe a sigh of relief as my phone connects to the internet successfully. Sometimes I feel a little ashamed by it, but I can’t stop the feeling of unease whenever I’m cut off and unreachable by phone. I keep imagining the worst things happening. “There’s an app people use here to call for a driver instead of using a taxi. It’s cheaper and easy to use.”

“Oooh.” As I open said app, Jimin looks at the screen of my phone over my shoulder curiously. Compared to Incheon and Suvarnabumi Airports, Penang Airport is very small, which I suppose is befitting of the size of the northern island. It makes the place seem especially busy, and we stand slightly away from one of the exits, doing our best to keep out of people’s way. There must be a lot of drivers on the app service, because one immediately takes our request. Ride secured, we make our way out of the building, looking out for a white car with the specified plate number.

Soon our luggage is secured in the trunk of the car, and we speed away from the airport. From the handy app, I find out that our tanned driver is a man named Hisyam. His fatherly manner and gentle way of speaking reinforces my instinct that he seems to be in his late forties or early fifties, a deduction I’d made upon seeing him. Our friendly responses when he’d initiated the standard questioning – where we’re from, and our purpose of coming here – encourage him to strike up further conversation. From my simple research about Malaysia before coming here, I know that being able to converse in English is enough to communicate with the locals, but I didn’t think that it would go so smoothly. I’d thought that it would be only mostly youngsters who are able to speak fluently in English, but despite his age, Hisyam sounds comfortable talking to us in the language. A comment on this from me has him explaining that many Malaysians can speak English well enough to be understood at the very least, which is a relief. It’s nice to feel so welcomed, especially since he has an eager and easy answer when I wonder where we should get our dinner aloud. “There’s a place that’s famous for its char kuey teow that’s not far from here. You have to try it!”

“Char kuey teow?” Jimin hasn’t eaten anything after our lunch on the flight earlier, and the mention of food, however foreign, quickly piques his interest.

“It’s stir-fried noodle,” he explains. “But the noodles are flat and made of rice. It’s a really popular dish around this region. I’ll drive you there first, if you want.”

Sneaking a glance at Jimin, I can see that he is also in favour of this. “Is that okay, though? Do we need to call another driver after we’re done?”

“I’ll just take some other requests until you’re done, then I’ll come back for you. There’s always people calling for service in this area,” he assures us. “This shop’s reputation is rightly deserved, I promise. So, don’t worry about me and enjoy yourselves!”

Good thing Jimin and I are able to decide on taking Hisyam up on his offer so quickly, because he really isn’t kidding – the restaurant is a mere few turns after that. It’s a place next to the large road, with most of the dining tables spread over an open space past the low fence enclosing the area of the restaurant. I suppose the cooking is done within the small building to the side of the restaurant. The tables and chairs are purposeful rather than decorative, but I know that sometimes a simple, humble place can serve better food than fancy ones. With Hisyam’s phone number saved inside my phone, Jimin and I take a seat at a table in the middle of the place. It has barely gotten dark, but more than half of the tables are already occupied by people who look to be locals. A good sign.

Thankfully the restaurant is well-staffed, and in less than five minutes, we’ve gotten our order in. “Smells good,” Jimin comments hungrily, eyeing the plates on the tables around us. I grin and stop myself from teasing him with the old ‘I told you so’ before I actually try the food. It arrives quickly, although I’m not sure if it’s soon enough for Jimin, who starts to dig in without even waiting for me. “Mmm!” His smiley eyes widen, with an extra twinkle as he swallows the char kuey teow.

If my reaction upon tasting it didn’t mirror his so much, I would have laughed at him. However, our driver’s recommendation has given us a great start to our trip – the char kuey teow tastes much better than I expected. Strips of rice noodles that look like a very thick piece of paper that had gone through a coarse shredder are coated with sauce. This dark sauce isn’t paste-like, yet not runny, either. It’s rich; probably infused with the flavours of the prawns and cockles that accompany the dish. The noodles slide down my throat easily, but chives and bean sprouts mixed in provides a contrasting, crunchy texture.

Our silence during the meal says everything about it. Neither of us are interested in talking; we’re too busy enjoying the food. Only after I finish the last bite do I come up for air to confirm what I already know. “How was it?” But Jimin can’t hear me with his body twisted away in his plastic chair. Even if he could, he’s too concentrated in his effort to attract the attention of one of the waitresses to pay me any heed.

Once the young girl has acknowledged Jimin’s call, he turns back to me. “I’m ordering another one. Do you want anything?”

Looks like Jimin had definitely enjoyed his meal. I did too, but my appetite is nowhere as big as his, so I add another order of milk tea to drink while I wait for him to finish his second plate. Less than half an hour later, we’re back with Hisyam, who is happy that his suggestion is getting rave reviews. “Your hotel is in the center of Georgetown, so it will take about thirty minutes to get there,” he informs us, explaining that Georgetown is in the northern part of the island, while the airport is somewhere down south. The three-story building that he points out sits at the end of the block, and he turns from the main road into a smaller one to let us off. He looks at the hotel in approval. “You chose a good place to stay,” he comments. “The last tourist couple I drove booked a famous hotel, but they didn’t know that it’s known for being haunted.” The corners of his lips twitch while his eyebrows scrunch in the middle, as if he still isn’t sure whether to laugh or sympathise with the poor people’s misfortune. “It broke my heart to tell them.”

“Oooooh, which hotel is it?” Pretty sure that I didn’t come across this morsel of information when I was searching for hotels to stay in, I wanted to know. However, Jimin protests, saying that he’d like to get some sleep tonight. He’s already going to sleep in an unfamiliar bed, and hearing a ghost story just before that is not going to help him sleep easier. Hisyam and I whisper conspiratorially, arranging for a private story time via message while Jimin unloads our bags from the trunk of the car.

Unfortunately for Jimin, this isn’t going to be our first disagreement for tonight. Not ten minutes later we’re standing at the front desk, arguing over sleeping arrangements while the staff looks on patiently. “I should get my own room,” Jimin insists again, his tone riding the line between firm and incredulous at my disagreement.

“Why should we?” This is not the first time I’ve said these words in the last few minutes either, but I’m unwilling to back down. “The room is huge, and,” grabbing his arm to turn him away from the listening employee, “it’s really expensive.”

“I just won’t take a suite, then,” Jimin says with finality, accompanied by an eye roll.

Truly upset now, I let my lower lip jut out in an infuriated pout. “Even a normal room is expensive, and our rooms won’t be close to each other’s, then,” I inform him. “Is sharing a room with me really that bad? I thought it would be fun. Plus, I already feel bad enough for making you come here with me without having you spend even more.” Even though I know that Jimin can easily afford whichever room he wants, even the suite that Se Hoon and I had decided to splurge on to enjoy together, I’m not exactly sure why I want Jimin to share a room with me so much. The reasoning that I’ve given him are all true. Having him spend so much money, on top of messing up his work schedule to go on an impromptu trip with me makes me feel really guilty, even if he’d done it on his own accord. I just hope that’s the main reason I’m so adamant that we share the suite, more so than the fear of having my crippling insecurity issues creeping up on me alone in the room I was supposed to share with Se Hoon.

Since Jimin and I have had sleepovers when we were kids and had even shared a tent when we went camping with friends in high school, I didn’t think he would mind. So when he’d neglected to ask which hotel we would be staying in, I didn’t bother to book another room. In hindsight, perhaps it was just an oversight on his part. He did only have less than twenty-four hours to prepare to go overseas, after all. However, if he’s this against sharing a room with me, perhaps he does feel uncomfortable about it. Sighing, I decide internally that forcing him to share when he isn’t willing would eat at my conscience even more, so I face the staff again as my hand reaches inside my bag, rummaging for my purse. “Could you give us another room? As close to mine as possible, please.”

“Fine, fine, let’s share.” This isn’t the effect that I had intended – I’m fully prepared to pay for his room – but surprisingly, this made him finally give in. “That is, if you don’t mind.”

“I wouldn’t have suggested it if I minded.” Now that Jimin has agreed, I find myself at odds, feeling like I’d coerced him into saying yes. “Are you sure you don’t mind? I could just get another room if you really don’t want to share.”

He shakes his head but doesn’t meet my eyes. “Nah, I just thought you’d feel awkward since you’re supposed to be here with Se Hoon. Are you sure he won’t mind?”

Oh. So that’s why Jimin had put up such a fight. The realisation makes me feel a little disappointed. I guess I’m a fool for expecting something else. Jimin had never been attracted to me, after all. Why would he care about sharing a room, other than concern over causing trouble in my relationship? If only he knew that he’s worrying about a nonexistent problem. “I’m sure. No worries.” Funnily enough, Se Hoon had been the one sharing his bed with another woman while we were still a couple, not me.

“I guess he thinks I’m a robot, too.”

“What?” I’m in the middle of confirming with the now-thoroughly-confused man at the front desk that we’re definitely not adding any extra rooms to our booking, so I’m not sure if I heard Jimin’s mumblings right.

“Nothing.” He dismisses me, taking our luggage and wheeling them towards the lift, leaving me behind to take the room key.

“Hey, wait! Oi!”

“Here are your room keys,” the young man at the front desk calls for my attention, and I turn around to take the two sets of cards from him. His, “I hope you enjoy your trip,” sounds more heartfelt rather than obligatory, sending embarrassed heat to my face. He’d obviously gathered that things are not hunky-dory between his guests… wait, he probably thinks we’re a bickering couple. At first I open my mouth, automatically about to launch into my go-to explanation that we’re friends, not a couple like I usually do back home, then I close it. There’s no longer a boyfriend who might find out that someone thinks that Jimin and I are in a relationship, and Jimin, that jerk, went ahead without me so he didn’t hear it. What’s the point of clarifying such a trivial thing to a stranger in a foreign land that I probably won’t ever see again anyway?

“Thanks.” Still slightly sheepish over our argument in front of the man, I quickly scatter away towards the lift. “Thanks for waiting,” I repeat the sentiment – but this time in a very different intonation that borders on the churlish – towards Jimin when I reach his side.

“Mm.” His non-committal reply doesn’t indicate whether he missed the sarcasm in my greeting or heard but doesn’t care to respond. It does nothing to improve my mood. I narrow my eyes at him, but he carefully avoids my glare, instead pressing the button to summon the lift, then keeping his gaze locked on the red digits changing from 2 to G. His reaction jolts me away from the displeasure I’d felt when he’d left the counter without me, back to the root of our argument. Uncertainty and guilt replace my ebbing anger.

“Sorry that you had to come all the way here to keep me company,” I begin my apology by addressing the sacrifice he’d made for me. “If it really bothers you, I don’t mind taking two rooms. I’ll pay for it. It’s the least I can do, after all.”

The lift doors open just then, and Jimin goes in without acknowledging my words, dragging both our luggage with him. I follow in and press the first-floor button. If he doesn’t want to talk about it, I’m not about to push it any further. I’ve said my piece. Of course, I’m still upset, but Jimin can be scary when he’s truly angry, and I’m not in the mood to deal with that right now. Not that I ever actually want to take on an incensed Jimin. But then, the lift has barely moved when he shifts to face me, his features not quite frowning, but nowhere near friendly, either. “Do you really not care about sharing a room with me? Se Hoon as well?”

“Yes, really.” Well, I really prefer it that way. Se Hoon doesn’t have a say in it, but there’s no reason to tell Jimin that. “No sense wasting money on another room when we’ll only use it to sleep, anyway.”

“You booked an expensive suite in a nice hotel just to sleep?” If I were still with Se Hoon, Jimin’s pointed question would have made me blush. However, all it made me think about is how Se Hoon fucked another woman two days before our vacation. There’s no doubt that there were other incidents before that that I’m not privy to. My blood boils at the thought.

“Well, right now I’d rather get herpes than touch him.” I reply acidly. Jimin might have done a lot for me, especially since I broke up with Se Hoon, but there’s just so much my self-beating, bruised heart can take. This time Jimin is the one doing the following, walking just behind me down the corridor until we reach the door to the suite. Holding the key cards up, I ask him one last time, “Are you sure about this? There’s still a chance to get another room.”

“No need, since you’re so sure,” his reply is slightly curt, but has lost most of the venom. I belatedly realise that he thinks I’m furious with Se Hoon for bailing out because of work, which must have had him softening towards me again. In reality, I’m far more pitiful than that, but I’ll take what I can get. Under his breath, Jimin mumbles again, “I’ll be sure to conduct myself like the saint you both think I am.”

The light musical notes of the door unlocking mask Jimin’s murmuring, so I only register his earlier response, taking it as a reconciliation. Opening the heavy wooden door, I fumble the adjacent wall for a switch, and upon turning it on, white light bathes the space to reward us with a very welcome sight. The entrance stretches and opens up to a spacious living room, decorated with black wooden furniture enhanced by splashes of red – small red cushions and red drawers. Simple white walls provide a nice contrast to the beautiful dark, polished timber floor. While I was looking for a place to stay while we’re here, I had seen some photos of the room, but seeing it in front of my own eyes is just breathtaking. From behind me, the sound of Jimin’s long inhale is audible as he takes it all in with completely fresh eyes.

Excited, I bounce further in towards the bedroom. On my left is a wooden door matching the ones I’ve walked through so far. The walls sandwiching it are also wooden with carvings, but the whole expanse is covered with glass. A peek through it reveals the bathroom, complete with a jacuzzi tub that had been promised in the hotel website in addition to a shower cubicle. The bedroom itself is as beautifully decorated as the living room. Majestic four-poster king-sized bed dominates the center of the room, matching the ornate tables and wardrobe well. Sliding glass doors lead to the balcony, and a large stained-glass window on the other side of the bathroom facing the bed completes the luxurious room.

“I’d be happy to just hang out here until the end of the trip,” Jimin comments in awe as he enters the room.

“I know,” I agree breathily, then compose myself before sending him a firm look. “But there’s food to be eaten.”

My honest statement invokes a helpless laughter from Jimin. “You’re not even pretending that you want to see the sights!” Just like that, all the animosity from before melts away completely. Jimin’s giggles must be infused with magic, drawing out a grin from me effortlessly every single time.

Finally, we collapse on the bed – Jimin resting completely on the left side of the bed, while I lay down partially on the side closest to the balcony with my lower legs dangling over the foot of the bed. If I let myself lay down properly, I know that it’s just a matter of time before I’m knocked out cold from the exhaustion of the journey. A bath in the tub sounds really nice, but it’s too much of a hassle for me now. I just want to sleep; but not with the day’s journey sticking to my body. After some time resting my tired muscles, I let out a loud groan and pull myself up. “I’m gonna take a shower.”

“Mm.” From the way Jimin lazily acknowledges my announcement, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already sleep-talking.

“Do you want to take one too, or are you just going to stink up the bed the whole night?” Poking the sole of his right foot sharply with my finger, I try to verify this with him before I lose him to sleep completely.

“Mmph.” This time he rubs his face against his pillow, perhaps in an attempt to give a more intelligible answer that fails. Opening up his eyes a crack, he asks, “Together?”

I’m not sure if he’s really lucid or not. But I refuse to let him – and myself – entertain the idea for even one minute. My honest answer isn’t good for the health of both my mental state and our friendship. “I’ll wake you up once I’m done.” Jimin responds with another vague hum that I take as a ‘yes’.

Just a little over twelve hours later, I’m sorely wishing for a nice soak in the jacuzzi tub, followed by a nice afternoon just chilling in the hotel room being blasted by the air conditioner. Jimin echoes my innermost thoughts, as if he can read them; “I swear I must have sweat out all the water in my body,” he complains. “Why did you choose such a hot place to go for a holiday? Don’t people run to cool places in the summer?”

“I think it’s the opposite,” I muse out loud. “People go to hot places to escape the bitter winter.” Right now, the freezing winter sounds good to me. It’s slightly past noon and the sun, which has been slowly creeping up on us since about an hour ago, has become downright menacing. Mentally I congratulate myself on forcing an early start this morning, despite both of us being too lazy to get up several hours earlier. The sky had just been kissed by the sun when we set out from the hotel, using the app to get another driver to bring us to Beach Street.

Despite the name, the street is a few blocks away from the jetty. We started our Penang street art hunt here. The UNESCO World Heritage Site is home to numerous street arts, painted by international and local artists. From what I’ve read, there are some very popular pieces that still survive thanks to restoration, but the art scene changes frequently as the old murals fade with time and new ones take the spotlight. Thankfully, the ones I’ve really taken a liking to haven’t disappeared. An early start gives us some advantages – not having to compete with other people for photos, and most importantly, cool weather for a pleasant walk.

Trusty digital SLR in hand, Jimin and I enjoyed searching for the murals, snapping pictures with them as trophies. To my delight – and Jimin’s amusement – many of these artworks on the wall are interactive. The bicycle that a pair of painted siblings ride on is an actual bicycle that you can sit on, similar to the swings a bit of distance away. Jimin declared that the painting of a realistic little boy walking a very-cartoonish dinosaur as his favourite, until he finds out that the artist, Ernest Zacharevic later made a series of paintings he called the ‘101 Lost Kittens’ project. Whilst indulging him in his renewed vigour to find all the lost cats, I noticed that the street art isn’t all that the capital of the island, George Town, has to offer. Narrow streets snake around terraced store fronts and as the morning aged, some of them started to open. Most of them look old, but many retain an interesting charm unique to each one, be it tiles with beautiful patterns covering the doorstep of the store, or windows and doors carved in cultural patterns that hide a rich history that I’m not privy to.

Dotted between these cramped stores are various eateries, cafes, bakeries and bars, many whimsically decorated, just waiting to surprise us as if saying ‘peek-a-boo’! It wasn't long before our stomachs were rumbling, and we chose our breakfast stop. We managed to get roti canai, a flatbread eaten with curry, which was one of my goals for this trip. Jimin tsk-tsked upon hearing that my goals are food instead of attractions, but even he was mesmerised by the sight of the cook twirling the bread dough expertly in the air. “Okay, this is good,” he relents after taking a bite of the savoury bread.

After filling ourselves up, we resume the search for Jimin’s kittens, but I don’t think we managed to get even halfway before we’re reminded that Malaysia is a country that has sunny and rainy days instead of four seasons. And today is definitely sunny. My trusty cap might be protecting my face, but it’s not doing much against the unforgiving heat. “Korea isn’t this hot, even in the summer,” Jimin insists.

“It’s more humid here,” I explain as my eyes rove about the walls, looking for cat paintings. The grey cat surrounded by red fortune cats has been my favourite so far, but Jimin got more excited about the giant depiction of Skippy, the orange cat.

“How come real cats don’t come in this size?” One would think that Jimin’s wish was an adorable one, but I imagined if it came true, and was horrified at the thought.

“They would eat us whole!” Terrified, I eyed the painting up and down, trying to gauge its size. It must be twice as tall as I am. “It would be worse than a tiger!”

Jimin had laughed at my seriousness, but it isn’t long before I’m ready to call it quits, and he’s right behind me. “Summers are probably more bearable in Korea because we’re in the air conditioning most of the time, while we’ve been out in the sun all morning here.” As if granting my wish, I spy blinds hung over a shop with white lettering written across it. A peek underneath tells me that this is probably a café, since I see wooden stools and tables taking up the storefront space. Without hesitation, I grab Jimin’s arm and lead him towards it. I don’t know what sort of store it is, but I know I could use some shade right now.

It turns out that it really is a café, thankfully. Jimin doesn’t need much persuading to agree on grabbing a bite to eat; it’s lunchtime anyway. We snap up some seats inside, where the air conditioning graces us with its mercy. The menu quickly tells us that this place specialises in bagels. Our bagels are perfectly toasty and crunchy after being reheated over a wood fire in an oven, and I take complete delight in the sour kiwi slices coated in honey topping yogurt in an adorable glass jar. Since I don’t eat as much as Jimin, I opt for a lighter salmon and cream cheese bagel. Although I’m doubtful of the bagel’s ability to satisfy Jimin’s appetite, he insists that the bacon and egg served with his bagel is enough to tide him over.

As Jimin inhales his food, then orders more after giving me a sheepish shrug, my attention keeps straying to one corner of the eatery where I watch a group of young girls snapping pictures amidst raucous laughter. Grabbing the opportunity to catch Jimin’s attention when he looks up from his plate, I gesture towards the corner with my chin. “Look, look. We have to take a picture there.”

By the time we’re done, the girls have gone, so I pick up a piece of white chalk on a nearby table to write on the small chalkboard they’d left behind. “Name… Park Jimin.” The texture of the chalk isn’t pleasant to my skin, but I ignore it to fill in Jimin’s height and the date, chuckling when I think about what to write in the last space. “Charge… laughing too much.”

“What?” My best friend states his incredulity as he lets loose the same charming laughter that I’m charging him with. “Laughter brings joy to the world! How could that be a crime?”

“Shh,” I ignore his weak protests, shoving the board into his hands and nudging him against the wall. He guffaws as I lift up my camera and snap pictures of him against a lineup board to take his mugshot. He then declares that he’s good to go for another search for the lost kitties. But it has been a long day, and with our energy already been sapped by yesterday’s journey, the afternoon is spent in more leisurely walks instead, with Jimin quietly indulging my sweet tooth by popping into trendy and yummy cafes instead of religiously keeping an eye out for more murals. I silently appreciate his thoughtfulness but don’t comment on it, knowing that it’ll give him a golden opportunity to tease me for eating so many sweets. Of course, it might just be him wanting to escape the heat without admitting it, even though the sun’s power seems to have diminished as it slips to the west. Yeah, that must be it, I think to myself, refusing to read more into it.

We’ve just exited another café, the bitter taste of coffee tampered by milk and sugar still lingering on our tongues, when Jimin points out something unfamiliar on the road. “Look, what’s that?” It’s a small cart, just big enough so that two people can sit on the seat underneath a grey shade. Behind it is a bicycle with one wheel, attached to the cart to drive the small cart with two more wheels on its side – like a tricycle – forward. I’ve never seen one in Korea, but I do know that this is a mode of transport in several Asian countries.

“It’s a rickshaw,” I tell him, miraculously pulling the name from my memory.

“Huh.” Jimin eyes it with interest. It doesn’t take a genius to see where this is going. “Wanna try riding it?”

At this point, we don’t even know where we are. It has thankfully cooled down now that it’s late afternoon, but my feet are weary from walking so much. Still… My eyes move from the empty cart, where the two of us can sit comfortably and give our feet much needed rest, towards the back, where the driver is sitting. “It would be nice to support his livelihood, but I’d feel bad asking him to bring us around.” I turn to Jimin, unthinkingly placing my heart in my eyes as I entreat him to reconsider.

Taking in the thin, old man resting his forearms on the bicycle handles as he waits for the traffic light to change, Jimin nods his agreement. “You’re right, I can’t in good conscience hire a man at least twice my age to do that.”

So it’s with mixed feelings that I open the map on my phone to determine where we are. When the phone loads, I sigh with relief. We’ve somehow walked all over Georgetown to end up almost next to our next destination, Chowrasta Market, which is in turn a mere 5-minute walk from our hotel. The large three-storey building looks ordinary from afar, but when we get closer, my eyes widen at the selection of goods in the shops on the ground floor. “Oooh.” Lines and lines of pickled fruits and local titbits remind me of some of the stalls in Korean markets. The vibrant colours of the pickled fruits match the packaging of the snacks, making me go crazy trying to decide what to buy.

Sensing that a lot of time is about to be spent choosing snacks, followed by a lot of money traded, leading to him carrying a lot of things, Jimin interjects. “Why don’t we check out the other floors first? That way we don’t have to carry our purchases everywhere.”

“Okay,” I agree readily, but also absent-mindedly, and he has to take me by the hand to lead me further in towards the escalator. The first floor of the market is nowhere near as exciting as the ground floor to me at first glance. There are some clothing stores, which don’t manage to catch mine or Jimin’s interest. However, as we walk towards the back of the building, a familiar musty smell greets my nose, putting me on alert. Even as we walk in its direction, I start to lean forward, trying to get a good look as soon as I can. “Are those… books?”  

They really are. Several tiny stores filled to the brim with second-hand books – so many that we can barely walk between the shelves. Some people may find the air stale and stuffy, but I see it as staunch, ancient guardians protecting hidden treasures. And some of the books are real treasures; with the help of the shopkeepers, we unearth books in every topic under the sun, some of them a little worse for wear, but the newer releases – like the Harry Potter series – look practically brand new. I don’t find any books in Korean, which isn’t surprising, but I do discover a first edition of a title in the Lord of the Rings series. It isn’t in the best condition, sadly, but it makes me wonder what else I could find had I had the time to thoroughly comb the enormous collection of books. We barely made a scratch before Jimin cautions me against bringing home too many things.

Since I know I won’t be able to decide which book to buy, I decide to not get anything. Pangs of regret echo silently within me as we leave, but then I remember that a plethora of food stalls are supposed to line the few streets next to the market. Picking myself up, I grab Jimin’s arms with an excited grin. “Hey, why don’t we walk a bit more to the food stalls?”

“More walking?” Jimin despairs at the thought.

“It’s just a block or two from here.” As we go down the escalator, I pull him towards the exit by his arm, boding no arguments.

“What about the snacks you wanted to buy?” Digging his heels in, Jimin gestures towards the goods in the small shops we’re passing by, desperately attempting to keep further steps at a minimum.

Sadly for him, I already have a plan of action in mind, and there’s nothing he can do to dissuade me. Shaking my head, I explain to him the logical steps that we should take. “We’ll be passing by this place again on our way back to the hotel. We can buy them then.” As an answer to Jimin’s subsequent whine of protest, I tell him, “Shopping on an empty stomach will make you buy more than you should. So we need to get some sustenance before we buy these.”

Jimin may be following my lead out of the market and opposite the direction we came from prior to arriving at the market, but his mouth isn’t about to admit defeat so easily. “How can your stomach still be empty after eating so many sweets??”

It doesn’t alleviate his disbelief when he’s informed that I’m looking for one stall in particular – a famous cendol stall. When his question of “What is that?” is met with my answer of “It’s a local dessert,” he scoffs in incredulity.

However, as soon as we cross to the next block, both Jimin and I are easily distracted by the shops lining the ground floor. At first the t-shirts with Penang’s attractions, including the murals printed on them as well as the colourful clothes draw our attention. As I start to thumb through some trousers with unusual prints hanging on a rack, Jimin ventures inside the shop then quickly calls me over. I suppress a groan. The shops, with their open fronts, are not air-conditioned, and while the temperature has become much more bearable now that the sun is starting to set, I’d rather stay where the wind isn’t just coming from the fans affixed to the walls. But it is worth it. Even though it’s just your typical souvenir – magnets, miniatures of the country’s famous buildings, and other memorabilia – for me it shows what the country’s people are most proud of. An insight to the people’s minds.

There are also bags and purses of different sizes, some bearing similar patterns to the clothes, while some are woven. “Is this what you want, of all things?” Having Jimin’s heavy arm suddenly drop around my shoulder as I examine a beige bag with red square markings makes me grunt and sag a little.

“What’s wrong with wanting this?” To be honest, I don’t actually plan to buy it, but now I’m tempted to, just to be contrary. Jimin really brings out the childish part of me sometimes; a side that I feel is too immature to show others. My head swivels around to stick my tongue out at him for good measure, but then I notice how close his face is to mine. I can just move my head forward a little and kiss him. Alarmed that this thought is the first that comes to mind, I look back down at the bag so quickly I get whiplash.

Jimin doesn’t seem to notice my reaction to his extremely close proximity, because I can feel him shrug nonchalantly at my verbal response. “Mmm, well, if you like it that much, I won’t stop you.” He ruffles my hair affectionately, earning an angrier “Hey!” than I would have normally given him had I not been so flustered, before I saunter back towards the entrance of the shop, right towards the pants that I’d been browsing when he first called me in.

Sensing a possible sale, or, in hindsight, an opportunity to play the responsible cupid, the shopkeeper who has been watching our shenanigans quietly all this while sidles up to me. “That is a good choice, miss. You should ask your boyfriend to buy it for you.” The woman is very young; probably a few years younger than I am, and her speech sounds a little different than Hisyam’s. I sense that she isn’t as fluent as our driver the night before. However, I can understand her perfectly well, and that’s all that matters.

Or perhaps it would have been better if I couldn’t catch her words, because they made me even more agitated. But before I can tell her that Jimin and I are not a couple, she grins brightly and takes my hand in hers, pressing something small into it. “Here, I’ll give you this. Stay safe!”

Curious, I open my hand to see what she has given me accompanied by that suspicious, conspiratorial look. Eyes widening with surprise and hackles raised, I panic; “No no! You–“

“What’s going on?” Jimin walks over, making me shriek in horror and push the condom back into the shopkeeper’s hands then cover them with the bag I’m holding. I’m not sure why I’m so perturbed. It’s not as if I’m the one suggesting that Jimin and I have sex, but damn it, I want to. And I’m deathly afraid that my best friend would somehow figure out my secret, inappropriate desire.

But of course, my startled and over the top reaction only serves to drum up Jimin’s interest. “What are you hiding there?” It isn’t difficult for him to push my hands – and the bag, my only saving grace – away and uncover the little ‘gift’ that the owner thought she’d thoughtfully given to me. What is up with her, anyway?! I thought this is a conservative country! Looking back towards the winking shopkeeper, I decided that she must be a really forward woman, or a foreigner, despite not knowing enough to tell. Either way, the cat’s out of the bag now that Jimin has seen it. Blinking several times blankly at the small packet, Jimin then looks quizzically at me, cocking an eyebrow.

“Oh God.” My mortified groan is muffled by the bag that I’d stuffed my head into, unable to bear the embarrassment.

Needless to say, we don’t buy anything from the shop. The steps we take forward are sluggish and unsteady, just like my emotions. Although Jimin had laughed it off as he’d simply told the shopkeeper that we’re all good the whole time he’d dragged me out of the small shop, his silence now clues me in on the awkwardness that he’s feeling, too. After the row we’d had the night before, I really don’t want this to go on. Must keep my feelings hidden. How hard can it be, right? I’ve done it all these years. No one had ever questioned my friendship with Jimin, so it must have looked easy on the outside. I hope no one would ever find out how torn and beat up I am on the inside.

“Sorry about that,” I broach the incident carefully, wanting to put it behind us instead of making it worse. “She suddenly shoved the… it into my hand.”

“Ah, no worries.” Scratching his head like it doesn’t matter to him, Jimin smiles, but he doesn’t quite look me in the eye. “She must have been desperate to make a sale.”

“That must have been the weirdest tactic I’ve ever seen.” I roll my eyes with a chuckle. Good. This may have started out forced, but it’s sounding more natural to my ears now. Just ignore that the woman had thought that Jimin and I are a couple, and more importantly, how much I want it to be true. We’re really close friends, it’s normal that strangers would think that we’re more than that. Just laugh it off and things will go back to normal. They always do.

Shrugging, Jimin tries to give her some credit. “At least it’s a fresh approach!”

I start to shake my head, but we reach the other end of the building, greeted by the sight of a long line running along the side of the next block, starting at a small, humble stall. “There it is!” I exclaim in excitement, recognising it instantly from the photos I’ve seen online. Jimin’s grunt when I grab his arm to join the line goes ignored, but he doesn’t complain once we’re there, even though I can’t even see the stall from where we’re standing.

Thankfully, the line moves up pretty rapidly. Once we approach the stall, we see why; the green droplet jellies and red beans are already laid out and ready to be scooped into the small bowl with the white coconut milk and brown syrup. The only wait time is caused by the man making shaved ice from the initial blocks with a green machine that takes up almost half their workspace. There isn’t much allowance for chairs and tables by the roadside, so after paying, Jimin and I join the other customers in standing while downing our sweet treat.

“This is sooooo good.” My compliment is backed up by my tilting the remnants of the bowl into my mouth.

“Want to get one more?” Jimin says gamely, and I grin at the offer. Obviously he’d enjoyed it as well, but I shake my head.

“I’d love to, but there are more treats for us to try,” I explain, motioning with my chin away from the direction of the cendol queue. Sure enough, just walking down the road has us stopping every hundred meters or so to check out what this stall or that restaurant had to offer. And not just the local cuisine either! We even come across a Harry Potter café that serves more than just Butterbeer. Penangites sure love their trendy cafes.

It isn’t surprising to hear a local complain over the prices of some of these delectable goodies though. “This much for sotong kangkong?!” A woman about my age gasps after paying the waitress for two plates of some squid dish. I simply listen to her talk to her friends one table away as we skewer our own squid and water spinach, enriched by the dark, savoury sauce that has my taste buds dancing with joy.

Jimin, who is eavesdropping on their conversation too, remarks amusedly, “Looks like we got conned.”

“Not surprising. This place is well known after all. I’m sure they marked up the price since tourists come here a lot,” I muse, unbothered but interested. “It would be nice to have a local show us the good and cheap places. I’m sure there are many that are unknown to us tourists.”

“Hmm,” Jimin hums thoughtfully, but doesn’t say anything else. For a few moments, I watch him in silence, waiting for him to express his train of thought out loud, but he doesn’t continue. By the time we start making our way back to the hotel, we’re so full that the walk is more than welcome. Not as welcome as the stop we make at the Chowrasta Market to buy some snacks – for souvenirs, but I admit to Jimin honestly that I can’t promise that at least half of them might be gone by the time we’re going back to Korea.

The food coma that we fall victim to continues into the late morning the next day, but it’s very well worth it. Both of us sleep so soundly that even the blazing glare of the sun can only make me moan tiredly, trying to shuffle into a better position to continue my slumber. Which is when I come to a realisation that jolts me wide awake.

Jimin’s arms and legs are wrapped around me.

No wonder I feel so snug and warm. It isn’t just all the food breaking down in my stomach. Jimin has hugged me on countless occasions before, but this feels different. More like what a couple would do, while I’ve always thought of our hugs as friendly. Or perhaps I force myself to think that way. I would use all my willpower to make myself pretend that this is the same as well, just for self-preservation. He’s just cuddling me in his sleep after all. It’s not like it’s intentional. Right?

I might have convinced myself, if I didn’t feel a definite, insistent hardness pressing against my butt. Yes, even that is unintentional I’m sure, but my dumb body can’t help reacting to it. Closing my eyes, I stifle another moan – not a sleepy one this time – as I feel how wet I’ve already become in reaction to him.

Against my better judgement, I arch my back, leaning forward and shuffling as subtly as I can into a better position. Tingles that spark like tiny electric shocks when my covered slit comes into contact with Jimin’s clothed morning wood has me stifling a wanton sound of pleasure. I’m not sure if he’s fully hard, but he feels like a good size. Any size would be good, as long as it’s Jimin. My hips rock back and forth, years of depravity leaving me utterly shameless. Unthinking about how wrong it is to take advantage of my unassuming best friend while he’s asleep.

My right hand dives down past the waistband of my shorts and into my panties, seeking the nub that would multiply the pleasure. “Hnn,” I bite my lower lip in an attempt to stop any further sounds from spilling past, while letting my eyelids flutter shut. The better to enjoy this — it is no longer a fantasy I indulge myself in when I’m pleasuring myself. If only I could have more. Deft fingers toy with my clit as I rub my pussy faster against Jimin’s cock. It’s undoubtedly growing bigger. It almost feels like it wants to pierce through the fabric separating us. Even though I’m really just dry humping him, moving by myself, it already feels incredible. What I wouldn’t give to have it inside me, giving my weeping pussy just what it’s craving. If only these fingers were his; flicking the stiffened bud while whispering in my ear, telling me to come for him...

As if answering my obscene prayers, a deep groan from behind startles me into a frozen statue. Belatedly realising the gravity of my actions, I yank my arm up and out of my shorts. Shit, what the hell am I doing??? However, taking a look at my hand; fingers soaked with my arousal, flowing all the way to my wrist, I have to gulp down another wave of desire. No, this is just too risky.

Heart beating deafeningly in my chest, I stay deathly still for a minute or two, hoping that Jimin hasn’t awoken and realised what I was up to. If he has, I don’t even know how to explain myself to him. Hell, I don’t even know how to explain myself to myself. Thankfully, he seems to be in a deep sleep. Even luckier for me, he just loosens his hold on me, turning onto his back with a deep sigh. Like a rabbit sprung free from a trap, I scoot out of the bed as fast as I can without waking him up. Once I climb off the bed, I spin around to look at him, making sure that he really is asleep. His face is positively angelic in his slumber. It would be painful for me to look at it if it wasn’t such a contrast to the tent that his hard-on is making out of the pristine white sheets. Sheets that would no longer remain unsoiled if only he had any interest in having his way with me. They would turn near transparent – if I’m already this wet from brushing against him and touching myself, what state would I be in if Jimin is the one touching me? If he’s the one rubbing against my clit frantically? If there was nothing separating us, if he’s actually inside me, stroking my inner walls with his hard cock? The beddings will be soaked through.

These traitorous thoughts make me whine out loud without thinking. The way I’m looking at him now is no way someone would look at a best friend. No; as much as I’ve convinced myself that I’ve been keeping my emotions in check, I haven’t been looking at Jimin as just a friend for a very long time.

And if he wakes up to find me drooling and mewling for him, there won’t be hiding it any longer. His breathing isn’t the long, calm ones of one in deep slumber. He could wake up anytime. So I hasten to the bathroom, willing my eyes not to stray towards his obvious yet unintentional arousal.

After swiftly divesting myself of my clothes, I hop into the shower, blasting it on full force. Two seconds later, I have to bite the inside of my cheeks to keep myself from screeching and cursing at the temperature of the water. Somehow I’d managed not only to set it on full force, I had turned it on at the hottest temperature as well.

The cold shower I give myself after hurriedly changing the settings doesn’t do much to clear my mind. My body is crying from rebuffed desire. Clearly this sharing-a-room thing isn’t working out in my favour.

As a compromise to my physical needs that allows most of my pride to remain intact, I turn off the shower and get into the bathtub instead. Reaching for the hose, once again I turn it on full force, but this time only after checking the temperature. Uncaring if it’s shameless to do this when my best friend is asleep on the opposite side of the wall, I open my legs and direct the head between them. The intense pressure of the water hitting my pussy awards me with immediate relief from my pent-up frustration, immediately followed by building pleasure that had been denied from me in the bed just now. Keeping the steady jet continuously hitting my sensitive nub with my left hand, I reach down with my right to trace my slit. It’s completely drenched, and I know that it’s not all from the water coming out of the faucet.

My middle and index fingers slip past my entrance easily. Scooting down the tub to get into a better, lower position with only the upper half of my torso resting against the wall of the tub, I begin to move my fingers in and out of my warm depths. Pretending that it’s Jimin’s cock that I’d felt against my pussy, the memory still fresh, I burn the sensation inside my mind to last me for all time. Soon I’m panting and moaning, though still of sound enough mind to be careful not to utter his name out loud, but unable to stop the aroused sighs that fall out of my mouth at the thought of him doing all of this to me, and more.

The fantasy brings me to a climax in record time with a loud cry that I hope is masked by the sound of running water and thick stained glass. Just in case Jimin is awake, I try to clean myself up as fast as I can. If I’m lucky, maybe he’d still be asleep.

When I step out of the bathroom, he’s still on the four-poster, turned onto his side with his back facing me once more. However, I can see movement underneath the sheets that tells me that he is no longer asleep. Is he… masturbating? Even though it’s covered, I can see his right arm moving rapidly, almost desperately. His breathing is unsteady, just like mine was right before in the bathtub.

A part of me that must be sick and perverted wants to watch him. I stand rooted on the spot with my hand on the doorknob, fascinated, longing to see him pleasure himself. Dying to help him do it. Already my center is reacting again. I’m so ready for him. I’ve been ready for him for so long.

But before I can rationalise continuing to watch my best friend masturbate like a total creep, unthinkingly I release my hand from the door of the bathroom, causing it to close shut with a sharp click. Jimin immediately stills, confirming to me that my suspicions were right. The sound also brings me back to my senses. What should I do now?

In the end, I opt for the safe option, the one that I’ve chosen over and over and over again. Striding past the bed, I greet him as normally as I can. “Hey, wake up, we’ve already wasted half a day just snoozing.”

I’m sure that Jimin is going for a sleepy grunt, but it came out sounding more like a horny groan than anything else to my ears. To keep things from becoming awkward, I pretend not to notice it. Instead, I open the wardrobe in the corner of the room, giving him a chance to hightail it to the bathroom with my back turned to him. He grabs the opportunity readily. As he showers, I dress quickly then let myself out onto the balcony, closing the doors behind me. It’s so much easier to tell myself that he hadn’t heard my shameless moans while I was inside the bathroom if I don’t hear him making them either.

Since he doesn’t comment on it, I assume that he either really didn’t hear me in the bathroom, or that he’d rather not say anything in case I saw him and return the favour. I’m more than happy to just pretend nothing had happened. Especially the fact that I used him to get myself off, although I’m pretty sure he’s oblivious to that. Otherwise I doubt he’d let me go on for as long as I did. Masturbating is something normal, he’d probably spare me the embarrassment even if he hadn’t been caught doing it himself. But using your best friend for your own orgasm is something else entirely.

So, with me neglecting to say anything about sorting out his morning wood – which is completely understandable – and him either not knowing that he wasn’t the only one who got off today, or choosing not to mortify me by saying that he does, the afternoon is spent in peace at Batu Feringghi. It doesn’t cost us much to get a driver to bring us to the long stretch of beach less than half an hour from Georgetown. Going there on a weekday means that we’re spared from the throng of people I’m sure would flock the tranquil strip of sand and sea on weekends. The salty wind is refreshing on my skin; perfect after a proper rest the night before.

Even more perfect than the breeze hitting my face and whipping through my hair is having Jimin by my side, leisurely walking in a more or less straight line marked by the water kissing the sand. We’re close enough that the gentle waves wash over our feet every few seconds, but not too deep into the sea that we’re wet past our ankles. I want to go on like this forever, strolling next to Jimin, feeling like a real couple.

It isn’t long before the blissful walk morphs into a food outing though, as it has always been on this trip, when we spot a stall further up the beach and Jimin wiggles his eyebrows as he asks me if I want to check the food out. He knows me well, so I can see how he immediately thought that’s what I wanted. However, this time, I’d really rather just spend some quality time with him. No words or anything else needed. Just basking in his presence, soaking in the happiness I feel simply by having him here with me. Once we get back to Seoul, we’ll get caught up in the flow of our own lives again. With people we know all around us, we will truly go back to being just best friends. He will get a girlfriend, and I’ll probably find another boyfriend to fill in the emptiness that can never be satiated by anyone other than Jimin. Is it wrong of me to want to continue this make-believe game of being his girlfriend a little bit longer, even if it’s only in my head?

Of course, it’s not as if I can tell Jimin any of this out loud. Plastering a smile on my face instead, I jokingly praise him, “Wow, when did you learn to read my mind?” and start off towards the stall ahead of him. His, “Oy, wait for me!” is met with laughter, but it rings hollow in my ears. I bounce and skip along, but it’s hard to do so and maintain a steady foothold on the ground thanks to the soft sand giving way underneath my feet. My body feels unbalanced, struggling to remain upright despite – or perhaps because – of the jolly movements I’m forcing upon myself, parallel to the emotions I’ve been keeping inside me for so long. Always on the verge of crumbling, threatening to fall into the unknown, even as I put up a front of being Jimin’s happy best friend.

Blinking back tears, I clear my throat as I stop in front of the stall to read the menu. “What is this?” Pointing to a foreign word on the small white board propped in front of me, I ask the young guy, barely a man, manning the stall as Jimin steps up next to me, bumping my shoulder on purpose.

“Oh, uhm…” he looks visibly flustered, eyes moving all over the separated goods on his workspace as he tries to find the words in English to answer my question. He must be taking care of this place for someone. He seems new and a little inexperienced with customers. I feel bad for him, but I still want an answer, so I wait patiently, flashing him an encouraging smile.

Jimin is quick to take pity on him. “Well, all that matters is that it tastes good, right?”

Given an out, the young man breathes a sigh of relief, obviously feeling more at ease. “Miss, pasembur is a mixture of all these things,” he makes a sweeping gesture towards the ingredients laid out on the table in front of him, “covered with peanut sauce. Can you handle a bit of spice?”

Placated by his effort to explain, I lean forward to look at the dry stuff he has sorted out in different containers. Some shredded cucumbers and turnips, bean sprouts, fried tofu and a fried pancake-looking thing that looks crispy. “Yeah, I love spicy food!”

The ingredients just need to be put together in a large plate, and soon Jimin and I are sitting at one of the tables propped up around the stall under a leafy tree. Both of us take the chairs on opposite sides, so we can enjoy the view of the sea as we sip our coconut juice straight from the fruit. Halfway through our afternoon snack, Jimin muses, “I wonder how much weight we’ve put on since we’ve been here?”

His question makes the mouthful I have in my mouth hard to swallow. “Ugh, must you think about that? We’re supposed to enjoy our holiday with no worries!” I wag my fork at him grumpily, reaching for a glass of ice I’d asked from the boy to wash down the food with the cool, melted water.

My chiding rolls off of him like water off a duck’s back. “If I’m going to continue going with you for more food after this, I’m gonna have to make some space,” he says playfully, getting up with a gesture towards the small building that houses restrooms a few hundred meters away.

“Ew!” After sending a chuckling Jimin off by flinging what’s left of the ice in my cup at him, I turn back to the remnants of our food. The peanut sauce is only mildly spicy, but still very enjoyable. We’ve found out that the fried pancake-like thing is actually prawn fritters, but I like the turnip the most. Coupled with the heavier peanut sauce, the juice that flows into my mouth when I bite the turnip provides a refreshing, contrasting taste that reinvigorates my senses. As I try to pick out the turnip strips among the few other toppings left over, a man I haven’t seen before pulls the stool next to mine.

Confused, I give the surroundings a quick glance before turning back to him. Only one other table is occupied. The rest are empty. Even while sitting, I can tell he’s taller than many Malaysians I’ve seen so far. He’s fair-skinned, and although he looks Asian, he doesn’t look quite like a Malaysian – I’ve seen many of the main three races of Malaysians; Malays, Chinese and Indians – and I’m no expert, but there’s something about him that tells me that he’s a tourist, too. “Excuse me, why are you sitting here?”

“So I can take a better look at you, cutes,” he responds arrogantly, turning me off in a split second. Trying to find someone to hook up with on his vacation, I suppose.

Frowning, I pointedly continue spearing one of the small nuggets of the pasembur with my fork, uncaring of what I choose to pop into my mouth in a show of blowing him off. “Well, I don’t care to look at you, so please leave.”

As expected, he’s not going to give up so easily. “I came over ‘cause you look really bored, sitting here alone by yourself. The name’s Charlie. Why don’t you come with me? My room is just over at that hotel,” he points towards one of the ritzy resorts by the beach, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction by looking at it. “I’ll show you a fun time.”

“No, tha–“ I start to turn him down again, but he grabs my hand, uninterested in my response.

“Hey! Ah, uhm…” Before I can put up a struggle to get myself free, we’re stopped by the boy taking care of the stall. From the way his words are coming up in short stutters, it’s clear that he’s scared out of his wits. Yet he’s still standing up to the much bigger man for my sake. “The miss has a boyfriend!”

“Eh?” Charlie looks from the boy to me, then scans the open space. “Where is he then?”

“Uh.” Great. What am I supposed to tell him now?

But before I can think of a reply, he shrugs indifferently. “Just ditch him, then.”

Again, I start to pull away from him, but this time it’s Jimin who stops us in our tracks. “What’s going on here?” His tone is light, but I can sense the undercurrent of what I’ve named the Angry Jimin; the quiet man who speaks in a soft voice, hiding a dangerous persona that can cut a person with one cold look. In all the years I’ve known him, I can probably count the number of times I’ve seen Jimin like this with the fingers on one hand, but the departure from the usual Jimin that I know is so drastic, there’s no mistaking it when he’s truly furious like this. Even though I know that I’m not in the wrong, he has me shaking in my flip-flops.

Charlie, on the other hand, does not recognise the cue signalling that he’s in hot water. “Who are you?” Then, making the same assumption as the boy, “what, are you her boyfriend?”

Afraid of what Jimin might say and its consequences – not just about Charlie, but I selfishly can’t bear to hear him say that he’s not my boyfriend, either – I wrestle away from Charlie’s grip, rushing forward towards Jimin to link my arm around his. “Yeah, he’s my boyfriend.”

My unexpected move confuses Jimin, earning a bewildered expression from him, but Charlie doesn’t seem to care either way. “Tch. Look man, don’t be such a spoilsport. I just want to borrow her for a couple of hours. Or do you wanna come join us too? I hate sharing, but I’m sure we can find someone for you, too. If you don’t mind ‘em ugly,” he laughs nastily, reaching out for me again.

However, Jimin snaps out of his bafflement quickly, and snatches Charlie’s wrist in a firm grip before he can get his hand on me. “Do not touch her.” Jimin’s icy voice intimidates Charlie, I can tell, as the latter hesitates for a moment. But he waves away the warning.

“Aw, c’mon. I–aaaaaaargh!” Charlie’s flippant tone hikes up several notches as his knees buckle, attempting to wrench out of Jimin’s grip, which has tightened so much that his hand is starting to bend at an unnatural angle. Once he manages to get out of it, he backs up several large steps, staying clear out of Jimin’s reach. “What the fuck, man! I thought we were cool! If you’re going to be such a stick about it, you could’ve just said something!”

Now that his switch has been turned on, Jimin is in no mood for any tomfoolery. “I told you not to dare lay a hand on her. Now. Fuck Off.” His words still come out composed and almost unaffected, but his normally smiling eyes now have a malicious glint to them, and even Charlie has learnt his lesson.

We leave the place soon after he does, after I thank the boy for standing up for me. Both Jimin and I know where we’re heading to next; I told him our plans before we headed out a few hours earlier, and I think that we’re walking in the right general direction, but neither of us are checking if we’re going the right way. When the heart is lost, does it matter where the body goes? I’m not sure what’s going on with Jimin, though. He isn’t checking if we’re going the right way, and he doesn’t seem to care, either. I’d ask him what’s bothering him if I wasn’t so preoccupied myself. Having him protect me like that made me ecstatic, even though I was also scared back there. But the aftermath is excruciating. Having him act like he’s my boyfriend, as short-lived as it was, only makes it more painful to face reality. He will be that for another lucky girl, one day, forever. But that girl isn’t going to be me.

While I’m musing on the thoughts that I’ve been burying for ages and plan to do so until the end of time, Jimin isn’t planning on taking the same approach. I should never have worried about asking him what’s wrong – he’s going to address it himself without any prodding from me. “You could’ve just told that ass that your boyfriend is back at home.”

Frayed nerves and a permanently broken heart immediately fuel the ire that rises inside me at his comment. Is that really important? “Do you really think he would have left me alone if I’d said that? He was trying to take off with me even with you there,” I bite off bitterly.

Jimin sighs, unable to argue with the validity of my statement. “I guess that’s true. I just wish I didn’t have to pretend to be your boyfriend to chase him away.”

“Why, is the idea of being my boyfriend that horrible to you?” No, wrong thing to say. I shouldn’t lash out like this. I’m only inviting trouble. But I can’t stop. Jimin might have not done anything wrong, but I still can’t help being resentful towards him for this. I can’t stop hating myself for still being hung up over him. He might not have meant anything hurtful by it, right now and back then, but it doesn’t stop it from eating away at me, turning me into an ugly monster inside.

At least he has enough wits to recognise that he’d put his foot in his mouth. “No, I didn’t mean–“

“Just stop.” I don’t want to hear it. I can’t bear it. His meaning is crystal clear. It always has been. Jimin just doesn’t see me as anything more than a friend. However, if I hear the exact words, I don’t think I can handle it. All of me wants to run far from him, but I can’t do that without appearing even more suspicious than I am now. So I settle for increasing my walking speed just short of a run, surprising Jimin as I leave him behind to cross the road. The few seconds it takes for him to wait for the cars to pass and lengthen his strides to return to my side grants me a bit of time to furiously blink my tears away, clearing my throat. I hope he’d missed the way my voice cracked just now.

“Hey, what’s up with you?” Jimin pulls me to the curb, holding me by the shoulder to face him. “You’ve been acting weird. I didn’t mean to offend you, it’s just–“

“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” I throw out fake words meant to reassure him, using my phone as an excuse not to look at him. “Just checking the direction for the night market.” My thumb shakes with the rest of me, making it difficult to type, but I will myself to make it steady. I can’t break down now. Not after all this time, in the middle of the road in a foreign country, no less.

“No, you’re not.” It isn’t the same Jimin that had dealt with Charlie earlier, but I can tell that I’m trying his patience. Still, I can’t tell him. If I do, not just this trip; everything will fall apart. And I need Jimin more than I need air. If I can only have him as a friend, then I’ll take it with the heartbreak that comes with it.

“Just let it go. Please, Jimin,” I plead with him, finally tilting my face up towards his concerned one. The annoyance on his face crumbles when he sees the raw agony I know I can no longer hide. My watery eyes that betray a world of pain, even if he doesn’t know why. His hold on me loosens, then releases me, his arms falling limply to his sides. The last thing I want is to see him like this. It’s even worse because I’m the cause. But there’s nothing else I can do. “I’m sorry.”

“If you think it’s best for you, I’d do anything,” Jimin says, not asking for an explanation. “Just know that you can come to me about anything. Anything at all. I would always be there for you.”

I nod appreciatively, thinking to myself that he can’t be the medicine to the disease that he himself has created. “Thank you,” I whisper. We stand like that for a while, ignoring other people walking by us, some peering curiously at two foreigners just frozen there. Wiping my tears as discreetly as I can with him watching, I take a few deep breaths, determined to return to my normal self again – as normal as I can be, anyway – and get this day back on track. It has been a roller coaster so far.

The night market spanning along the main road and beyond are made of countless makeshifts stalls that light up the descending night. I can see just about everything I can think of here – from the standard souvenirs, to traditional clothes and bikinis, knockoff bags and watches, to paintings. Normally I would have soaked up the atmosphere, growing so excited that I’d border on crazy just trying to decide what to buy and ending up with more goods than I could carry, but somehow I can’t quite muster up the energy. It isn’t the fault of the vendors, who are friendly and inviting, but not too pushy. Nor is it because I’m turned off by the prices; although I do notice that things here are a little overpriced compared to some other places I’ve been to so far. As desperate as I am to return things to how it was before, I can’t get over Jimin rejecting me as a girlfriend. If he doesn’t even want to pretend to be my boyfriend, I can only imagine how much of a turn off it is to him to have it become a reality. And while I’ve known all along that this is how he feels, I’ve spent so long denying it to myself as I pretend on the outside that I’m all good with it. Without anyone knowing, I’ve allowed myself to fantasise being his girlfriend for too long. It’s just daydreaming, I’d thought. Just a fantasy. I know what’s real, I’d told myself. But I didn’t realise that it had made me hope that it would someday come true, and to be forced to face reality like that – it left me in a state of shock. Things are even worse, because I’m here with nowhere to run from him.

It certainly doesn’t help matters that many of the vendors assume that we’re a couple. While not surprising, it makes the air feel more awkward between us, and drives the knife deeper into my heart. I don’t need to be reminded that Jimin doesn’t see me as girlfriend material, no matter how much it may seem differently to everyone else. Every “No, no, we’re just friends,” I tell every friendly seller is a cruel admittance to the fact that I’ve been denying since we were young. Like a punishment for thinking that I can one day have more than I deserve. I couldn’t have been more wrong. And this whole day is just full of occurrences driving the point home, over and over and over. I want to cry my heart out in anguish. I want to scream my lungs out in frustration. And I want to run, to the ends of the earth, and fall off to a place where I can hurt no longer.

I’m sure Jimin knows that something isn’t right with me, but he doesn’t say or ask anything. While I really appreciate that he’s giving me space and keeping his distance so I can lick my wounds as best as I can in such a crowded place, a foolish part of me still hopes that he cares. His suggestion that we call it a night and get an early start tomorrow after popping for dinner at a food court wedged among the stalls is a very welcome one. At this point I just want to sleep and forget all this ever happened. The latter might be too much to ask for, but I can’t imagine that some rest would make anything worse than it already is.

 “When I said an early morning, I didn’t mean this!”

Jimin’s whining is ignored, although he doesn’t notice me giggle softly at his dismay. I’m glad that a few hours’ sleep is enough to restore the normalcy between us. At least that’s how it looks on the surface. My own feelings for him, now escalated to an irreversible state, have been repressed back inside me, where they have been kept carefully under lock and key for as long as I’ve realised them. And I tell myself that I’m okay with this. I’ve always known that Jimin will forever be my best friend, and only that. It was just my stupidity that kept embers of hope burning within that it might somehow change. As long as I can extinguish my impossible wishes, I can hold onto what I have – Jimin’s friendship. That is more than enough. It has to be. The alternative is to confront him with the truth, and lose him.

So I choose to maintain this delicate equilibrium. What happened yesterday should never come to pass again. I was careless, foolishly allowing my real feelings to surface. That mistake should never be repeated. Hopefully Jimin would think that I’m just still upset about Se Hoon, and leave it at that. Jimin has never been all that keen on talking too much about my boyfriends. The time we spend together has always been for just the two of us. We may chat about our partners once in a while, just to check in on the other person, but we never delved into it. I never cared to talk about my boyfriends when Jimin is the only one I truly wanted, and perhaps Jimin has never had much to share about his relationships, either. It would just be frustrating if I had to listen to him talk about them, so if he doesn’t say anything, I’ve never asked.

Addressing him from the front on the narrow dirt path, I point out, “It’s not that early, you know,” then yelp as I almost stumble over a root jutting out of the ground.

“Look out!” Relying on his animal-like reflexes, Jimin rushes forward and seizes me by the arms before I tumble to the ground. Wrapped in his arms, his sweat and slightly heavier breathing from the exertion of our exercise should be anything but romantic, but as I look up into his soft eyes, filled with concern, I can hear my heartbeat pounding erratically in my ears, and I know it’s not because we’ve been navigating this leafy terrain over the past half hour. Even in this awkward, uncomfortable position, with most of my body weight resting on him and both of us smelling way less fresh than daisies, I can’t help but notice how inviting his lips look from this close proximity. I’d give my whole fortune to be able to kiss them.

No. I’m letting myself fall into the same trap all over again. Before I do anything I will regret later, I clear my throat and extract myself from his embrace. Jimin lets me go readily. “Sorry,” I mumble to hide both my embarrassment and disappointment.

At first, Jimin looks as stunned as I feel, but my movements and apology snaps him out of it. “I told you that hiking is a bad idea,” he takes the opportunity to chide me for my choice, in the aggravating I-told-you-so manner only a childhood friend can manage. It automatically incites an immature response in me, pulling me away from my years-old worries, if only for a moment.

“It so isn’t! Just wait until we get there. Besides, it’s the perfect way to burn off all the food we ate.” Finishing with a loud huff, I turn around and continue on the narrow trail towards Monkey Beach, a stopping point on our way to the Muka Head lighthouse in Penang National Park.

We arrive at the beach just a little under an hour later. It’s already midmorning, and the sun has begun its work warming the sand and the water. I had my fill of the beach yesterday, and there’s still more hiking to do before we reach the lighthouse, but I can’t resist running my hand through the clear water and then splashing an unsuspecting Jimin who’d crouched down next to me. “Hey!” He scolds me indignantly as I erupt into laughter; my first uninhibited one since only yesterday, but it seems like forever since I’d last felt such unadulterated joy. The world just isn’t right when things are not going well with Jimin. It makes me more determined to keep everything just as they are. A life where I’m on the outs with Jimin just isn’t right.

If either of us thought that going to Monkey Beach was tiring enough, we’re in for an unpleasant surprise. While the trail to the beach was slightly challenging, it was mostly flat. From the beach to the lighthouse is a far less forgiving climb – one that would have knocked me out if I were in a worse shape than I’m in. Jimin, the fitter one of the two of us, insists that we would have gotten to our destination in less than forty minutes if I hadn’t stopped to catch my breath, but I pretend not to hear his annoying remark, choosing to roll my eyes and stick my tongue out at him when his back is turned.

Despite the journey that was more tiring than we’d bargained for, it’s well worth it now that we’re here. The lighthouse is an old one; there’s nothing really remarkable about its appearance. Our climb is really rewarded by the view that we see from the top of the lighthouse. Jimin makes his way up first, then calls out to me excitedly, and I give up on regaining my strength at the bottom of the lighthouse to join him. The narrow walkway surrounding the lighthouse peak offers us a fantastic view of the islands surrounding this one, and we stand there for a while, just taking in the endless stretch of the blue sea, trying to figure out where it meets the azure sky in the horizon.

The climb down from the lighthouse is significantly easier compared to going in the opposite direction, and we find ourselves back at the beach in no time. “Do you know that we can see turtles here?”

“Where?” The possibility of this gets Jimin on his toes at once, excitedly looking around the beach for any stray turtles wandering around. I can’t help but giggle at his enthusiastic response.

“I don’t know. I read that you might see them here. Maybe we’d have a higher chance to see them at one of the other beaches in the park. It’s a nesting place for the turtles, and the season is right about now.” My clarification disappoints him, and his shoulders sagging makes me want to pull him into a tight hug. “Do you want to go there and see if we can find any?”

At first he brightens up at the idea, then looks at me sceptically. “How far is it from here?”

“Uh…” As much as I like playing tour guide, I’m not actually sure of the answer to his question. “A little far, maybe? The way there uses an almost completely different trail, I think.”

That draws an easy response from him; “pass”. By the time we’ve walked all the way back to the park entrance, had a tasty lunch and got back to our hotel to shower, it’s already late in the afternoon. “The day just flew by,” Jimin remarks as we sit in the car, on our way to our next stop.

“I know, right? But this isn’t bad.” We’re on the main road, surrounded by buildings on our left and right, but we must be on the edges of the island, because I can see glimpses of the sea and the reddish-purplish dusky sky as the car zips by the gaps between the buildings. “It’s kind of relaxing when we’re not rushing from one place to another.”

“I wouldn’t call a morning hike relaxing though,” Jimin mumbles under his breath, earning a playful smack on the arm from me.

The easy-going mood and light banter continue even after we get to Straits Quay, a beautiful marina enclosed by a shopping mall. Perhaps too easy-going, as we indulge in some drinks after dinner. Having western food is definitely a departure from the norm after several scrumptious Malaysian meals, but I don’t mind the change very much. Especially now that the alcohol has made its way into my system – losing my inhibitions is making me tap into my repressed emotions more deeply than usual, and it’s confusing me. While I’m happy that Jimin is here with me, I’m also tired and angry at him for rousing my irrepressible hopes once more.

Without thinking, I’ve downed more than I can handle. I’ve belatedly realised that Jimin is keeping a modest pace, not imbibing even half as much as I have, but at that point, I’m beyond caring. “You should slow down a bit,” he warns me, and only then I put my mug down with a sigh, heeding his advice. “You okay?”

“Mm-hmm.” Although I’m starting to feel a little woozy, I still have a bit of wits about me yet.

Jimin stares at me, trying to judge if I’m still of sound mind. He must have been aiming for the delicate balance between loosening my tight lips and inability to think coherently, and I’ve fallen neatly into his trap. “Is everything going well with Se Hoon?”

“Why, do you think there’s trouble in paradise?” My answer is sharp and bitter out of sheer anger and defensiveness, instinctively seeking to protect myself even when I’m not in the best state to do so.

“I’m just concerned. I know you’re pissed because he bailed out of this trip at the last minute, but you seem more… prickly than I thought you would be,” Jimin hedges, expertly opening my precious treasure box of jealously guarded secrets. I’ve always worried that Jimin knows that I’m keeping something from him. He could always tell when there’s something I’d rather not tell him, and he usually manages to make me spill everything out. Everything… but my real feelings for him.

“And whose fault do you think it is?” I ask testily, not thinking that there can be more than one answer to this question.

“Se Hoon?” Jimin’s wrong answer makes me want to slap my forehead. At this point I’m not sure who’s the stupid one; him or me. Of course he would think Se Hoon is behind my irritable behaviour, but should I have clued Jimin in on my troubles in the first place?

“Not any longer.” His clueless answer bursts the balloon of fury blowing up within me, and I deflate in my seat. How can I expect him to put all the pieces together when I’m withholding so much of them from him? Jimin can’t possibly know that I’m hopelessly in love with him. Not when I’ve done everything that I can to hide it from him. But I’m tired of concealing things. I’ve gotten sick of it for a long time, and it has risen stealthily to the surface, slipping through my defences, biding its time until an opportunity comes for it to spill forth. Like right now. “We broke up just before we came here.”

“Oh.” His response is quiet, and I can’t tell if he’s indifferent, or sad for me, or feeling awkward from the sudden news bomb. “So it wasn’t some business thing that made him cancel the trip?”

“It was business, alright. A meeting with his colleague on his bed.” Funny, I should feel more upset about it, but I’m not. Whatever Se Hoon has done during the course of our relationship has never affected me much one way or another. Naturally he did please me and annoy me at times, but nothing he ever did got to me the way Jimin does. It’s the same for all my past relationships. I’m aware of that. But what else can I do but accept these pseudo relationships, since I can’t have the one I truly want?

Jimin’s brows shoot up upon hearing this, then crash down in a frown, accompanied by some colourful curses under his breath as he processes the information. “Sorry about that. Never liked the smarmy guy anyway. You can do way better,” he rattles off the typical sympathetic words that don’t do anything to lift up my spirits. “You could have just told me though,” he mumbles, almost as an afterthought, but I can tell that he’s offended that I kept it from him. Far from making me feel guilty though, his expectations that I share anything about my half-hearted relationships only serves to stab another wound in my already well-punctured heart.

“Guess I don’t want to feel like an even bigger loser in front of the guy who rejected me before I could even tell him how I feel.” A large lump lodges itself in my throat, obstructing my air flow, but the words come out anyway.

“What do you mean?” Leave it to Jimin to be stymied even after being told outright. “Who are you talking about?”

I don’t know what else I would have blabbed to him if a wave of dizziness didn’t strike me right then. Finally, something – alcohol in this case – saves me from my stupidity, even though it was precisely the same thing that led to my foolish confession in the first place. “Whoa!” Jimin reaches out to steady me, almost upsetting the glasses on the table in the process. “Okay, I think we’ve had enough.”

I’m not sure when or how Jimin paid for our drinks, but he must have somehow, because we made it out of the shopping mall and down at the seafront without anyone hounding us to pay the bill.

It’s hard to believe that this beautiful place is this quiet when the night is still young, but I suppose we have the weekday to thank for that. The sea breeze does wonders to whip me awake, and although I remain tipsy and a little unsteady on my feet, I manage to convince Jimin that I’m up to the night-time stroll without any danger of falling into the sea unsupported in no time at all.

The yachts lined up along the marina give the place a luxurious feeling, while the lights from the high-end apartments above the shopping mall illuminate the scene behind us against the darkness of the night and the mysterious sea before us. A white lighthouse marking the end of the yachts is clearly much newer than the one we visited earlier today. What it lacks in character and history, it makes up in pristine beauty, befitting the dreamlike scenery we’ve found ourselves in. While I’m not exactly in a romantic mood that this setting is obviously perfect for, I can still appreciate the atmosphere. Well, as much as I can while focusing on putting one foot in front of the other without losing my balance.

We turn right at the lighthouse, following the wide walkway past white houses surrounded by greenery; surely a picture-perfect setting had we seen it during the day. Lamps glow softly above us as we walk unhurriedly to the end of the straight path, both unwilling for the idyllic time to end. The silence between us is a companionable one. Jimin and I have never felt the need to fill them with idle chatter if we have nothing to say to each other. Or even when we do, sometimes, like we do now. I’m slowly becoming aware of the fact that I have said something I never should have, but I’m still buzzed enough to not care about the consequences.

However, Jimin, the more sensible of the two of us at the moment, isn’t content with letting things be. By the time we turn around to head back towards the shopping mall, I start to feel the weight of the empty air, filled with burning questions on the tip of Jimin’s tongue. In my heart of hearts, I don’t want to do it, but I look at him nevertheless; a silent permission for him to go ahead and say what is on his mind.

“When you were talking about the guy whom you couldn’t confess to, whom did you mean?”

Somehow I just knew that he’s going to zero in on that. “Does it really matter?” I sigh.

“Of course it does! I want to know who is stupid enough to reject you before you could tell him anything.” He pauses, trying to make sense of the whole thing. Of course he doesn’t know. He isn’t even aware that I know what he said, so long ago. Heck, he probably doesn’t even remember – people don’t tend to remember things that aren’t important to them, anyway. I want to snort in derision at his comment. He doesn’t even know that he’s talking about himself.

I shake my head; partly in mild disbelief, but mostly in hopelessness. The events of yesterday had solidified reality and brought me back down to earth. “It’s not gonna happen, so I’m trying not to think about it. Even if it’s just pretend, I just want to feel cherished, by the right guy, for once.”

Jimin stares at me intently, both of us standing so still we could be mistaken for statues but for our hair and garments swaying gently in the calm breeze of the night sea. I can tell that he wants to say something, to offer me words of comfort, but the agony that I’ve suffered for years must be showing on my face. A pain so deep that nothing he can say can make me feel better. Yet I wait. Hanging onto foolish hope that the source of my sickness can provide me with the remedy I need. An eternity passes by, and I know that there’s nothing he can do. So I give up, and step forward, alone. Perhaps this time I really can leave him behind.

But of course, my feet somehow get tangled with each other, and I start to trip. “Whoa!” Jimin’s quick reaction saves me in a very similar fashion to what happened less than an hour earlier, pulling me back against gravity. “Oof!” Like a big oaf, I stumble heavily into his arms, almost causing him to topple over. He manages to stay upright though, leaving me in a very awkward position; a heart-thumping position that I’ve always longed to be in, and also one that is counter-productive to my aim of forgetting him. “You okay?”

“Mmhmm.” I’m not. Intoxicated, the closest I’ve been to outing myself in ages, in dangerous proximity to the man whom I can never have. Carefully, trying not to lose my balance again and to avoid making it look like I’m pushing him away, I extract myself from his embrace. Immediately my body cries out for the warmth of his body. It isn’t that cold, but my desire for his nearness transcends physical needs. Best to get out of this situation before I start daydreaming again. “Can we go back? I’m not feeling so good.”

Without protest Jimin agrees, helping me call for a driver this time, and soon we’re back in our hotel room. We take turns showering, the motions almost feeling like a routine at this point, like we’ve been living together for years instead of this being only the fourth night we’ve shared a room consecutively. Ever since the ride back to the hotel, we haven’t said much to each other beyond short, necessary things, like, “I’ll pay for the ride.” Rather than awkward, the silence is heavy. Jimin seems lost in his thoughts while I’m just trying to clear my head for the most part. When we lay down on the bed together, I’m more aware of his nearness than ever before.

Skin prickling and thoughts all jumbled up, I shift to rest on my side, facing away from him. Perhaps I can try to get some sleep like this, I try to convince myself even though I’m hyperaware of his presence behind me. Why is this so damn hard? Tears well up behind my eyelids at the futility of it all. Jimin is just a guy. Okay, he’s an amazing guy, and the greatest friend anyone can ask for, but he is still just a normal human being. With flaws. He irritates me at times. We get into arguments and fights. So why is it that I can’t let him go? Why do I still pine for him? Why can’t I fall in love with someone else? It’s not like all my past boyfriends were assholes like Se Hoon. There have been decent guys. Nice guys. Men who are just as good as Jimin. Maybe even better. Why am I not with them? Why didn’t those relationships work out?

A wet sob makes its way out involuntarily, inducing one more, then another. I hope Jimin is asleep, so he doesn’t hear me. Slowly, I begin to slip out from under the covers, trying to keep the pitiful noises wedging in my throat contained, at least until I can make my way to the balcony where I can cry my eyes out. However, before I can reach the edge of the bed, Jimin grabs hold of me from behind, pulling me back against his chest. “Shh,” he whispers soothingly into my ear, stroking me softly without demanding an explanation.

His gentle encouragement eases me to let myself go, drawing up the white blanket up to my face, cupping it as I cry in earnest, drenching the quality cloth with my tears. Although Jimin doesn’t know that he’s the cause behind my sadness, it doesn’t make his tender brand of solace any less comforting. For me, Jimin has always been able to evoke the most extreme emotions within; the highest bliss, the deepest pain, the best comfort. And even though I can’t let it go – perhaps I never will – the overwhelming agony eventually subsides. Tendrils of exhaustion begin to creep in on the edges of my consciousness, as they always do after a good cry. My eyes will probably be bloodshot and puffy tomorrow.

After finding a dry spot on the blanket to wipe them, I twist around in Jimin’s arms to face him again. None of the lights are on in the room, but the pinpricks of light from the lamps outside shine dimly through the thin inner curtains that have been drawn over the glass doors, softly illuminating the room like faraway stars. I can make out Jimin’s kind expression as he looks at me, plump lips curled into a tiny smile. “Thank you.” My gratitude comes in a soft voice, even though I can’t return his smile.

“Anytime,” he answers lightly. The arm that was wrapped around me lifts so he can caress the side of my face tenderly with his hand. His touch feels like heaven, and my eyelids flutter shut, wanting to savour and burn this kind warmth into my memory so I can relive it a million times in the future.

When I open them again, my sight is clearer than before, with all the moisture previously clouding them washed away like they have been wiped by the windshield of a car. Jimin looks so close. Over the course of our friendship, I thought I’ve seen all of Jimin, but this is different somehow. He has never looked so attainable. I’ve never wanted him as much as I want him now, right at the cusp of cementing the determination of letting him go forever.

Against my better judgement, I shuffle closer to him, but he doesn’t move away even though he’s now just a hair’s breadth away from me. We’re so close, our breaths are mingling together. His palm is still cradling my cheek. Perhaps I’m deluding myself, but he’s looking at me as if… as if he actually loves me. I’m not sure what came over me, but I lean forward, doing what I’ve always wanted to do but never had the courage to in all the years of knowing him;

I kiss Jimin.

Even though I can feel his surprise from the way his body stiffens and his lips part in astonishment, I keep my eyes squeezed tightly shut, afraid of his reaction now that I’ve taken the plunge. I don’t know what’s possessing me to make such a rash move after holding back for so long, and I’m sure I’ll live to regret it. Either from the embarrassment of being rejected, or from losing Jimin’s friendship. Maybe both. But right at this moment, I don’t care. If I’m never going to have him, the least I can ask for is one kiss, and savour it as much as I can before he pushes me away.

However… he doesn’t do anything of the sort. Quite the opposite, actually. Once he’s gotten over my unexpected move, his arms wrap around me once more, but this isn’t the tender hold meant to comfort me. No, Jimin is squeezing me with a strength that I’m not even aware he possesses, his hand cupping the nape of my neck so he can kiss me more passionately. His tongue teases my bottom lip; not making its way into my mouth, but rather content tracing my lips, as if getting to know every corner of it before going further. It’s like he’s turned the tables on me, leaving me in shock. But not for long. It’s impossible not to react when Jimin’s soft lips are melding into mine, his breaths fanning across my face, the sensations too real for it to be a dream.

It gets even more vivid as his body, much like his mouth, brushes intimately against mine, and I feel the unmistakable evidence of his desire against my stomach. My own body jumps to life immediately. I can feel my blood heating up with need, my leg hugging one of his so I can press my aching pussy against it, and I moan into his throat wantonly. The sound rouses Jimin from his trance, and finally he does what I’d expected him to do from the very start. Sitting up, he breaks the kiss, leaving me disappointed, befuddled and breathless. I hadn’t thought about how I would feel about his reaction – or rather, I didn’t expect that he’d only push me away after reciprocating my kiss, and thus have no clue what to think of it – but his fierce scowl has me trembling in fear. What have I done? Why is he like this?

 “Why did you do that?” Jimin’s voice is rumbling and low, a sure-fire mark of seething anger, and this time I’m on the receiving end. I open my mouth to explain, then close it again. No words will come out. How am I supposed to explain myself? Even if I’m honest with him about my feelings, I already know what his answer will be. While I’ve gone and done the stupidest thing possible, I still can’t bear to hear the rejection from him as he looks straight into my eyes. Seeing that no answer is forthcoming, he bites out, “Do not test me like this.”

He extricates himself from me none too gently, almost kicking my leg off of him so he can get out of the bed. Still trying to gather my wits, I sit up, wanting to call out for him, but he looks back at me, his eyes narrowed in fury as if anticipating what I will do and daring me to do it. I draw back like a frightened deer and let him leave the room. The door closes shut softly, but in the silence of the night following what had transpired, it’s as loud and final as a booming thunderclap in the sky. As much as I want to go after him, I know that’s not a good idea. Especially when I don’t know what to say. What did he mean by testing him? Me kissing him might have been a stupid decision, or even a drunken mistake, but it certainly wasn’t a test. I can’t figure him out. Heck, I can’t even figure myself out.

Even though I should be tired, sleep eludes me tonight. I can’t stop thinking about my unrequited love for Jimin, what happened tonight, the incident that occurred so long ago and all the time in between. With my exhausted body and my overloaded brain wrestling for control, I slip in and out of consciousness several times during the course of the night, but when the darkness is lightened by dawn, I’m still no closer to figuring anything out than I was in the beginning.

Jimin hasn’t returned to the bed, either. A blessing, perhaps, because I can’t face him right now. I’m not sure if I can look at him in the eye ever again. After taking a quick shower, I get dressed and make my way out of the bedroom. As expected, I see him passed out on the sofa in the living room. Guilt hikes up my conscience. I should’ve been the one to take the couch, not him. He hasn’t done anything wrong. But instead of waking him up to tell him to sleep on the bed, I tiptoe out of the room, praying that he wouldn’t wake up.

Yes, I’m running away like the coward I am.

At first I wanted to just leave, but I remember that we’re not in Korea, and my disappearing without notice could cause real panic. So I scribbled a simple note saying, ‘Going out for some fresh air. See you later.’ and left it on the small wooden table next to the couch Jimin was sleeping on before slipping out. It doesn’t diminish my guilt for abandoning him on a trip like this, but it does lessen it somewhat.

Not enough for me to enjoy the time by myself, though. Even though the nasi lemak highly recommended by locals and tourists alike hits all the spicy and yummy levels on the scale, the rich coconut rice accompanied by fried anchovies and peanuts, slices of cucumber, boiled egg and fried chicken – talk about decimating two generations in one go – is only enough to fill my stomach, not my happiness meter. I stay long after my food is gone, sipping the milk tea absent-mindedly until late morning, when I figure some of the touristy places must be open by now.

Using the handy app, I get drivers to take me around a temple and a museum, but as interesting and beautiful as they are, I’m unable to get myself to enjoy them. After ending up walking aimlessly and failing to take anything in, I accept the fact that I’m just wasting my time. Resolving to find a way out, I pop into the first café that I see. With a clear aim in mind, I try to focus, forcing myself to push past the dense fog of self-loathing and denial.

Yet still almost an hour later, I can’t think of anything to say to Jimin. Is there any excuse for acting as moody as I have been, lashing out at him, then getting stupidly drunk and making a move on him like that? On top of that, I even walked out while he was sleeping. He has every right to be royally pissed off at me. Knowing Jimin though, he’s too kind to be mad at me for long. He really is more than I deserve. Looks like I’ll have to be angry at myself for the both of us. And I think that I’m doing the job quite well on my own.

In the end when I pull out my phone, instead of a long explanation that Jimin deserves, I type, ‘Jimin, I’m really, really sorry. I wasn’t in my right mind. Please let me know how I can make it up to you.’

Before I can close the chat, a reply from Jimin appears on the screen. ‘When will you be back?’

I hesitate, wondering which answer would be the right one. Does Jimin want me to come back, or is he so angry that he wishes not to see me, at least for a little while? ‘Do you want me to go back now?’

While waiting for Jimin to type out his answer, I fidget in my seat, belatedly weighing my choice of words. Did I sound like an errant child who is being questioned by her parents about her whereabouts? Or did it sound like a desperate admirer finally being given the time of day? The latter is probably closer to the truth, I laugh deprecatingly at myself. Jimin’s reply, however, doesn’t fall within my expectations;

‘The sooner the better.’

Curiosity filling me to the brim, I quickly make my way back to the hotel. Why on Earth would Jimin want me to come back as soon as I could? Does he not want to do anything touristy by himself? Or does he want to scold me? Or… does he want to continue where we stopped last night? I shake my head in disbelief at my foolish dreams. As if he’d want to do that. Pushing me away and sleeping on the couch made his rejection painfully clear.

Heart threatening to burst out of my chest in anticipation and fear, I pause for a minute to take a deep breath before opening the door to the hotel room that Jimin and I share. “Sorry I–“

“There you are.” Jimin greets me with a smile that has my pulse racing. Memories of last night flood my mind just at the sight of him, but somehow Jimin is acting like nothing had happened. I should be relieved, but for some reason I feel dismayed. Did the kiss mean nothing to him after all? After pushing me away and going so far as to sleep on the couch, I thought my coming onto him had an effect – anger, frustration, befuddlement – something. Anything. I’d risked everything for that kiss. And for a second, I was sure that he’d kissed me back. It doesn’t seem like something that can be swept under a rug. I was expecting a severe scolding. A less sane part of my brain feeds to the hope that he would pull me into his arms and kiss me, just as passionately as we did last night. However, he’s just walking around the room, collecting things as he speaks. It feels anticlimactic.

“Have you had lunch?”

I shake my head. I’ve only had a cup of coffee at the café while I agonised over what to say to him. I haven’t given a thought about lunch. Looks like all that effort was just a waste of time.

“Good. Are you ready to go? Let’s grab some food together,” he says, swiping up keys from the small table where I’d left the note for him this morning.

“Uh, okay,” I reply stupidly, not really being given a choice, as Jimin strides past me to get the door. He is acting slightly weird, but at least he doesn’t seem outwardly angry at me. I’m not sure if this is better, but my instincts tell me to go with the flow, so I follow him out of the building without protest.

“Where are we going?” Instead of waiting at the hotel lobby to call a driver, he leads me to the parking lot next to the hotel. My bewilderment deepens when he presses a button on the set of keys and a silver sedan unlocks with a flash of lights and a friendly beep. “How did you–?”

“Rented it,” Jimin answers simply, opening the passenger door and beckoning me in. In my state of confusion, I thought he wanted me to drive, but then I remember that here the driver’s seat is on the right, not the left. “It’s not that hard to find, and I can just leave the key at the hotel lobby for the owner to collect later.”

“Okay…” It doesn’t really answer the question I have in mind, but I’m not even sure what I want to ask, so I suppose this answer is as good as any.

“Buckle up.” Before I can follow up on his instructions though, he reaches over my seat to pull the seat belt and strap me in. When his body brushes against mine, all the air whooshes out of my lungs, like I’ve been hit in the stomach. He may be able to do it but no, I can’t pretend last night didn’t happen. But I want to remain friends with Jimin more than anything else, so I don’t comment on it, even if I can’t act as nonchalantly as he is.

He has no problem driving on the opposite side, easing out of the parking and making his way down the small alley to join the busy main road with no issues. The only thing that might clue anyone in that he’s not actually from around here is his phone on its holder on the dashboard, displaying the directions to our destination on the navigation app. It says that we will take about forty minutes to get there, but not the actual location we’re headed to. “Where are we going?” I repeat my question from earlier. “Is it too far to get a driver to drive us there?”

“Hmm.” Instead of answering me, Jimin glances at the screen of his phone. “It’ll take us a little under an hour to get there, so I guess it is kind of far, or maybe too expensive?”

“Uh.” I’m not sure what to say to that. How am I supposed to know how much it’ll cost us to get there with a driver, or how far is ‘far’? A question better kept to myself, because I’m sure Jimin would find it ridiculous if I voice it out loud. Why ask when I’ve no idea what I want to get out of it?

“It doesn’t matter, anyway,” Jimin continues, seemingly knowing what I want to say when I don’t even know it myself, as usual. “I’d like to spend some quality time alone with you, just the two of us. It’s not the same when there’s a driver here.”

“Oh... okay.” My dead heart sputters weakly to life, but I tell myself not to read too much into it. Isn’t that what always gets me into trouble and hurts me in the first place? “It does feel a little awkward to chat between the two of us when there’s someone else there.” Yeah, that sounds like what a friend with no romantic feelings would say on the matter.

Laughing, Jimin nods, agreeing with my statement. “I totally get you! Even if we’re not speaking in English, I feel really guilty when we don’t include them in the conversation.”

“It’s the worst when the driver is totally quiet and unfriendly!” Relieved, I catch Jimin’s jovial, cheerful energy and run with it, happy that this car ride isn’t going to be as awkward as I was afraid it would be.

“What about those who play awful music?” Jimin challenges.

“No, no, that’s still not as bad as the ones who don’t play anything and won’t say a word!”

In this vein, we continue merrily all the way along the coastline of the island. “Look, Jimin, there’s an island over there!”

“Hmm?” Taking his eyes off the road for a moment, he briefly looks in the direction I’m pointing at. “Oh, that’s pretty close, isn’t it? I wonder what island it is.”

“Yeah, there’s a ferry making its way over there,” I inform him as I figure out the keywords to type into my phone to find out about the island. “Turns out it was a leprosarium, then became a quarantine station, and then a prison, but now it’s a resort.”

“Yikes, that’s weird.” Jimin cocks his head, unsure whether to laugh or disapprove. His sentiment echoes mine.

“I know, right?” Casting a look at the cluster of buildings I can see from inside the car, I try to reason the decision behind building a resort there. “Maybe there’s something that still draws people to it, even with its history.”

“Maybe.” His concentration back on driving, Jimin simply agrees with my assumption. “Maybe we can check it out next time.”

Next time? Just two words can make my mind race with endless possibilities, but I force myself not to think about them. It’s probably Jimin making polite conversation. I watch him steer the car smoothly out of the exit, gliding onto the spacious bridge that spans out almost ninety degrees away from the island. “You’re really good at this.” Grasping for a topic that would take my mind off his vague invitation to come to the island again, I comment on his superb driving skills on the left side of the road.

“Oh, yeah, it’s not my first time.” Even though he tries to play it off coolly, I can make out the smug smile yanking at the corners of his lips. It’s so easy to make Jimin happy — just a praise and he’d be on cloud nine. Like a cute puppy. I try not to laugh at the imagery. “Several of the countries I’ve been to also drive on this side.”

“Oh... really.” Just like that, the wind is blown right out of my sails. Are these the trips that he’d invited me to, but I couldn’t go either because of work or because I thought that going on one with him would be too much for me to take? Whom did he go with? Were other girls there with him? My jeans are too unforgiving for me to grab, so I clench my fists around nothing; the dull pain of my nails digging into my palm feeling like a punishment I very much deserve. I don’t have the right to ask or even think of any of this. The more I ponder on it, the more pain I’ll put myself through; I know this, I’ve told myself countless times, yet I still can’t stop myself from doing it.

Thankfully, just then, Jimin’s stomach roars past my troubled thoughts. “Have you eaten anything?” I ask him guiltily, remembering that I’d left him to his own devices just this morning.

“Yeah, just something light near the hotel.” He grins sheepishly, his right hand leaving the steering wheel to push his hair back to cover his embarrassment. Somehow he melts my soul with his cuteness when he makes such an expression, and when he concentrates on driving again, he makes my heart thump hard from how cool he’s become. Feeling flustered on my own, I whip my head to the left to turn my attention out the window once again. There isn’t anything out of the ordinary to capture my attention this time, so I’m left to the mercy of my self-deprecating line of thinking until Jimin’s poor stomach rumbles again.

“Maybe we should stop to get something to eat.” Really, I don’t need any more reminders of my childish behaviour from last night to this morning. I don’t know if I can feel any worse than this.

Chuckling apologetically, Jimin reassures me, “It’s fine, we’re going to a place where we can eat.”

Slightly irritated that I have to ask this a third time, I grind out, “and where would that be?”

“You’ll see,” Jimin says teasingly, darkening my mood, but I don’t retaliate — I shouldn’t be cross with him.

“Well, I hope it’s not too far from here.” Giving in, I simply cross my arms petulantly. “If I hear your stomach growling one more time, I’m gonna go deaf.”

As Jimin promised, it’s not too far after we’ve gotten off the bridge. “This is still Penang, you know,” he informs me as he veers left to exit the highway. “It’s not just the island; part of Penang is also on the mainland.”

“Really...” It’s interesting that he’s playing the tour guide now. All the top Penang attractions I saw on the Internet are on the island, so I’d missed this fact. I wonder what Jimin has found that makes it worth driving all the way here. It doesn’t look to be a bustling city like Georgetown. While not exactly rural, the town seems more relaxed, with two-storied shops and houses filling the landscape instead of towering buildings. After only a few turns, we enter an even less developed area, this one a village. Brick houses are mixed with ones made out of wood, with trees growing all over the place, lending the scenery on both sides of the road a more natural appearance, different from the carefully structured planning of the city.

Shortly after, Jimin turns right and pulls over by the side of the road. I peer over the dashboard to see what’s in front of us — it’s a dead end. “Are we here?”

“Yup,” Jimin quips happily, getting out of the car, and I follow suit. It really feels like we’re in the middle of nowhere. Especially since we’re at the end of the road, facing a river with a very narrow bridge that’s only wide enough for pedestrians and motorists to cross, giving the impression that there’s no way out.

However, the small shop on my left at the end of the row catches my attention. I can tell that it’s been there for years and years; there’s an air of homeliness, like it has blended completely with the surroundings, and it’s filled with people. Most of them are much older than Jimin and I — probably around our parents’ age, or maybe even older than that. From their relaxed, casual dressing, they seem to be villagers. A few men are chatting excitedly over white cups of coffee, but the other patrons are all eating, despite it being slightly late for lunch. Jimin and I sit at one of the two tables just beyond the threshold of the shop, which is the only one available. I shift in my seat a little, looking around for a menu. They’re usually displayed somewhere on the wall, or given on the tables, but I don’t see any. “Ah, you’re the one who called earlier, yes?” A middle- aged man comes over to our table, all smiles as he greets us.

“Oh, you remember me?” Jimin’s obvious surprise at being remembered has the man chuckling good-naturedly.

“Of course, we very rarely see foreigners all the way out here,” the man, later introducing himself as the owner, explains to us. “It’s not exactly a touristy place. There’s a university campus close by, and I bet not even half of them know about this restaurant!”

Neither of us know how to respond to that, but the owner seems more than happy with the customers he has. And from the lack of empty tables, I’m guessing this place is actually a local favourite — with the villagers, if not the students of the nearby campus. Small and out of the way it may be, but this restaurant has a certain charm to it. The menu turns out to be very simple; freshwater curry prawns, fried fish with three-flavoured sauce and stir-fried cabbage. We forgo the fish in favour of the prawns, which were caught just this morning, and is the signature dish, as well as the cabbage.

Thanks to the simple and limited menu, our food arrives at our table quickly. The owner recommended that we get bread to accompany our prawns instead of rice, and I’m glad we’d followed his advice. The slices of white bread are perfect for soaking up the curry, and the concentrated flavour married to the sweetness of the fresh prawns is nothing short of bliss. In his state of hunger, Jimin had ordered a daunting kilogram of prawns, and although it takes us a while to finish them, it’s not as gargantuan a task as I was afraid of when I first saw the plate. Washing down the food with some homemade sugar cane juice, I smack my lips happily at Jimin. “How did you find this place?”

“It was just a stroke of luck. I was scrolling through the phone while waiting for you to come back when I saw it.” It might have sounded like Jimin was trying to make me feel guilty if he didn’t say it with a nonchalant shrug and follow it with, “I was hoping to help you take your mind off of things.”

“Oh.” I don’t know what to say. It seems like I haven’t made such a blunder last night as I’d thought I did. He was so angry when he’d pushed me away then, even though he’d reciprocated the kiss for a bit. I’m sure I hadn’t imagined that. What was that all about then? Something tells me that it wouldn’t be a wise decision to ask, as much as I’m dying to find out. The last thing I want to do is to sour the mood once again, after Jimin had gone out of his way to make me feel better. It’s more than I deserve, after the way I’ve treated him. So I decide to just play along, ignoring the stronger feelings and questions burning away at me, like I always do. As long as I can keep being by Jimin’s side. The momentary lapse in judgement last night could have destroyed our friendship, but somehow we’re still here, eating and talking and laughing like nothing had happened. The enormous burden that the fear of losing Jimin had pressed on my chest eases off of it, now that I’m assured that things are back to normal. Although the niggling desire for something more remains there. Always there. “Thanks, Jimin.”

Jimin’s smile at my appreciation is more dazzling than the late afternoon sun behind us. The sight of it cements our friendship, now back to equilibrium. Our passionate kiss is to become a hazy, slightly drunk mistake, and will be swept under the rug to be forgotten forever, except in the innermost secret corner of my heart, where I tuck in the sweetest memories of myself with Jimin. Tiny, insignificant instances that are surely nothing to him, but are the most precious jewels of my life, to be taken out and admired whenever I’m at my lowest and loneliest. Or sometimes even when I’m not. 

A belly full is one of the easiest ways to make Jimin happy; next to praising him, and seeing him happy is definitely the simplest way to make me happy in turn. How can I not be, when presented with those bright giggles that eat up his whole body, always leaving his position on any chair in precarious balance, and scrunching up his face so adorably? Before I get lost in my thoughts of him again, I snap myself out of it by asking, “So, where to next, Mr. Tour Guide?”

My impromptu title for him jolts him into an upright position in his red plastic chair, immediately assuming a serious, business-like mien that has me in stitches. “Ahem,” he glares at me warningly, wanting me to play along. “Looks like we have–“ he takes a peek at his watch “–a bit of time left before dusk. But I think we should go soon.” Indeed, we had been sitting there for way past an hour, and the place is completely empty of other customers now. I wonder if the owner is keeping the shop open for our sake. Clearly Jimin is thinking the same thing, because he thanks the owner profusely as he pays for our meal before we leave the premises.

As Jimin skilfully manoeuvres the car out of the dead end, he playfully manoeuvres his way out of answering my increasingly insistent questions regarding our next destination. His refusal to tell me only digs my hole of curiosity deeper and deeper, however, I can’t help but laugh and wish that he doesn’t give in to my badgering. For Jimin to be this happily secretive; it must be a pleasant surprise, right? Despite myself, I’m starting to really look forward to the unknown evening plans.

Instead of going to the mysterious location, though, he drives us around the small town. As expected, there isn’t much for visitors to be interested in. “There is supposed to be a haunted mansion somewhere in here,” Jimin interrupts his tour-guide-like speech by breaking into an evil grin, the picture of the very devil with the dark orange and red hues of the sky colouring the background behind him. “Wanna go and see it?”

I don’t have to look at the rubber plantation on our left to imagine the horrors that await beyond the rows of rubber trees. “NO!” Finding Jimin’s raucous guffawing grating on my indignity, I pout petulantly at him. “Hmph. You laugh at me, but you don’t want to go either, do you?”

That was effective in getting him to stop. “You got me there.”

“Really, what would you have done if I’d said, ‘let’s go’? I bet you’d pee your pants!”

“No I wouldn’t!” It’s Jimin’s turn to be affronted. I have to bite the inside of my cheeks to keep myself from bursting with laughter. “I’d just say we don’t have enough time to visit it, because I’ve already made other arrangements.”

“Oh, have you now?” Every opportunity to tease him is a chance that cannot be wasted. “And is that really true?”

“No,” he admits unabashedly, drawing chuckles from both of us. Just like Jimin knows I’m not the greatest with ghosts, I’m perfectly aware of how easy it is to scare him. “The house has an interesting story to it though. It’s supposed to have ninety-nine doors.”

“Really?” Scaredy cat I may be, but I always love a good story regardless of the genre. Horror stories are always great – as long as I don’t have to watch, or heaven forbid, experience it myself. “I wonder how big it is, to have that many doors. It’s such a specific number though.”

Jimin shrugs, not knowing the answer to that and seemingly not caring enough to find out. “A witch doctor is supposed to be staying there now.”

“Oh?” Since Jimin has turned the car around, I peer at the trees now on my right, trying to catch a glimpse of the mansion in vain. “I wonder what happened to the owners.”

“Murdered, supposedly.”

With a shiver, I tear my gaze away from the shadows of the trees that had been hypnotically pulling me in. “Okay, let’s stop talking about it. It’s giving me the creeps.”

“Aww, sorry if I scared you.” Letting the car move at a snail’s pace along the empty road, Jimin strokes my hair gently. Normally my instinct would be to swipe his hand away, perhaps with a warning to not treat me like a child. However, his touch is oddly soothing, so I simply sit back in my seat, enjoying the comforting touch. It’s not often that Jimin would treat me as preciously as this. Better set aside my ego and make the most of it.

In no time at all, we’ve arrived at a parking lot next to the river. I don’t see the curry prawn restaurant anywhere, and I wonder if we’re currently on the other side. I’m pretty sure we crossed a bridge at some point. Jimin leads me out of the car and up some narrow steps to a small jetty. Sitting down along one of the edges with our legs hanging over the side, we settle down to gaze at the beautiful sunset. “I was going to book a sunset cruise, but I wasn’t sure if we’d get here in time for that.”

“Sorry,” I apologise again in a small voice. Although it isn’t Jimin’s intention to make me feel bad, I can’t get over my guilt. I’m sure if the tables were turned, I’d be completely livid with him. So to have him treat me this kindly makes me feel doubly worse. “I don’t know what came over me.” At least that’s the truth. After managing to reign my feelings for Jimin in for so long, to have it all spill in the span of one night was beyond careless. It’s unbelievable.

Lucky for me, Jimin remains mostly oblivious to the whole thing. “It’s okay. I’d be out of sorts too,  if my girlfriend did to me what Se Hoon did to you.” Jimin tries to lay his hand on my shoulder, but I move away.

“Your girlfriend?”

“Yeah, I mean, hypothetically.”

“Oh.” My idiocy knows no bounds. I settle down again next to him, trying to play it off like I was just surprised that he had a girlfriend that I didn’t know of. It wouldn’t be the first time that he’s had one, but he had always told me about them. It pained me to listen, every single time, but I did anyway, because in a perverse way, I wanted to know about the girls that Jimin is into. Not that any of it matters. Nothing would change the fact that he isn’t interested in me. Even after everything that had transpired last night; after I’d told him that he’d rejected me before I could even tell him how I feel, after that kiss – especially after that kiss – he still doesn’t realise. That’s how little thought he has given to having me as someone more than just a friend. Zero thought. He just thinks that I’m unstable and vulnerable after a bad breakup and is trying to be a good friend. My wandering hand finds a small pebble on the dusty and less than clean jetty, and throws it into the river with all my might. That’s what I need right now. A good friend. Yeah.

All in all, I suppose I have to be grateful. At least things haven’t become awkward between us. I can even almost enjoy the gradual darkening of the sky as the wisps of colour dissipate into the overwhelming dark blues and blacks. Not far behind us, lights from the building next to the jetty battle against the darkness, illuminating the river and trees beyond. “What’s that place?” I wonder aloud.

“A café,” Jimin replies, catching me by surprise. I didn’t expect him to know. Peering at the two-story building curiously, I see waiters seating some customers at a table on the space on the first floor, which is left open to the elements.

“It looks nice.”

“I’m glad you think so.” There is a note of relief in Jimin’s voice. “I booked a table for us, for dinner later.”

“Didn’t we eat just a few hours ago?” Trust Jimin to want to eat again so soon. I can still taste the thick curry on my tongue as I laugh and shake my head at him.

“No, no, you got it all wrong.” He levels his serious gaze at me. “I believe it’s already been a few hours since we last ate.”

Trying not to spray saliva all over him, I curl my lips down in an effort to hold in my mirth. “Is that why we’re here, then?”

“No, actually we – oh! Speak of the devil.” His words are interrupted as our space is invaded by a man who looks like he hasn’t slept in a year. Despite his tired appearance, he’s still all smiles. “Mr. Jimin?” He inquires.

“Yes, that’s me,” Jimin confirms. “I was starting to worry that you’re not coming.”

“Sorry for being late! My wife was supposed to wake me up from my nap, but then between cooking and our son, I was forgotten.” Jimin and I exchange amused glances. Looks like I wasn’t the only one who thought that the man could do with some sleep. “But that’s okay, since it’s just the two of you today, I’d say we’re right on time. Let’s go.”

“Go where?” I whisper to Jimin as the man leads us down the jetty and into a boat, which can easily accommodate at least six people, but will apparently only bring the three of us tonight.

“You’ll see,” Jimin sits next to me and squeezes my hand, determined to not give anything away. If I was told that I’d be getting in a small boat with a stranger in the middle of nowhere, shrouded by the cloak of darkness a few days ago, I’d be alarmed. However, Jimin’s presence changes the experience into an exciting, mysterious adventure.

And we’re off.

The boat glides away from the jetty and the lights of the café, further and further into the ghostly arms of the shadows, barely making any noise. Soon, the river widens, and we can no longer see any signs of civilisation. Only the moon, a whisper away from being full, and the glinting stars offer any glowing relief to the endless blackness, made even darker by the trees lining the riverbank. “These are mangrove trees, called berembang,” our tour guide gestures to the crowding trees clustered together, shielding everything on land from view. I doubt I would be able to see anything but branches and leaves even if we came during the day.

But we’re here at night, and a different sight awaits us.

Our guide steers us close to the riverbank, and stops the boat. “Anytime now,” he informs us cryptically, and I take a look around. What are we supposed to see? With the meagre illumination from the moon and the stars, most of the trees remain in eerie shadows. I silently hope that we’re not on some ghost-hunting expedition. For a split second, I feel panic rising within, but then I remember that there’s no way Jimin would want to go for such an experience either.

Then I see it. A blinking light, so soft and unworldly that I thought I’m seeing things. Before I can pull on Jimin’s shirt to ask him if he saw what I’d seen, I see another small, flickering glow. And another. And another. Suddenly we’re surrounded by them; tiny lights that shine brightly, suddenly from seemingly random locations, making the trees around us glitter like Christmas trees. “Wow!” I whisper in awe.

“Fireflies,” Jimin breathes into my ear, his hushed tone pulling me in against him, unthinkingly wanting to be close to him in such a magical world that we’ve been suspended in. Their light joins the reflection of the stars in the river. Our very own stars on earth. With Jimin’s arm holding me tightly and the ethereal scenery all around us, it’s hard to tell if I’m awake or if I’m  in the most amazing dream I’ve ever had. The same gentle light from the fireflies that juxtaposes with the inky blackness of the night also casts an angelic glow over Jimin’s features, taking my breath away. There’s something in the atmosphere that makes me feel closer to him than usual, and that makes the whole experience even more dreamlike. My hand stretches out to touch the marvels of nature, but even if I can reach them, I can’t bear to actually brush against them for fear of hurting such minute, wondrous creatures, or bring myself back to the real world. So we watch them in silence for a while, until the tour guide breaks the moment by asking if we’re ready to go back.

It feels like time has stopped while we were on our journey, but in reality, only about an hour has passed. Part of me wanted to stay there forever, surrounded by glimmering lights, where real life feels so far away. To be with Jimin, just the two of us. The lights from the café next to the jetty, while not exceptionally bright, are jarring in comparison to the gentle twinkling of the fireflies. I almost refuse to get off the boat. However, all good things must come to an end, and I let Jimin help me out of the boat and lead me to the café.

“Are you hungry?” He asks after we’re seated at one of the tables on the open first floor.

“Mmm, not really,” I muse as I thumb through the menu. Majority of the food here is of the western variety, and although I do enjoy it, I’m still full of the prawn from earlier. Mostly I’m eager to hold on to the memories of the boat ride. Irrationally, I’m afraid that having a meal would distract me and cause the warmth of Jimin’s embrace as well as the magic of the fireflies to slip through my fingers.

“Neither am I,” Jimin sighs with regret, clearly wishing that he could fit some more food into his stomach. With an eye roll, I tell him that I’m not surprised – he ate the lion’s share of the prawns, and there was way more than what two people could normally eat. “Maybe we can share a cake.”

“Ooooh, cake!” His suggestion is met with enthusiasm on my part. Although I’m loathe to share my dessert with anyone, Jimin is – a very, very occasional – exception, and my stomach is panicking at the thought of being stuffed with more food, so I relent. The burnt cheesecake we choose makes me regret having to share a little. It’s downright heavenly; I can probably eat all the slices available if I don’t mind the button of my jeans popping right off. Thankfully, Jimin is fuller than I am, and gives up after about two small bites. “Are you sure you don’t want any more?” This is a treat that warrants opening up that extra stomach I know we all have for dessert, but at the same time, I slyly hope that he doesn’t take me up on my offer.

Shaking his head, he gestures for me to finish it. Quick as lightning, I pull the plate towards my side of the table gleefully. Now that I don’t have to share it with anyone, I can take my time to savour it. In my excitement, I don’t sense Jimin’s intent gaze on me until I’m about halfway through the slice. Realising that I must look like a complete and utter glutton, I pause and smile at him sheepishly, trying to wipe off any crumbs as inconspicuously as I can. Trying to cover my embarrassment, my mind races for something to say. “Thank you for such a great day.” I can’t believe I didn’t think about telling him this until now. He must have put a lot of thought into this, and at the last minute, too.

Those words bring the most tender expression I’ve ever seen grace Jimin’s face. My breath stills for a moment to give my brain a chance to process and commit the sight to memory. “Everyone needs to feel loved once in a while, right?” This is the first time I’ve heard him say such a thing so seriously, without it sounding like an off-handed comment. He always makes these sort of statements like it’s an insignificant matter, sometimes literally waving the words away with his hand in the air as he says them. However, the look in his eyes is intense, as if I’m the only thing he can see. It helps his words come across — I do feel very loved. Maybe not in the way I’m hoping from him, but loved nevertheless. At least that’s what I think, until he continues, “And if I could, I want to cherish you always.”

This is the problem I have with Jimin. Biting my tongue to keep from asking him to elaborate his statement, I try to not get my hopes up. He’s forever uttering things that make me feel special, while I know he doesn’t mean anything by them. His rejection from years ago is as clear in my mind as if it happened yesterday. Yet to this day I still can’t get over him, even after being forced to hear the bitter truth ages ago. “Thanks.” Lowering my gaze towards my plate to hide my tears, I stab at the cake. Suddenly the delicious dessert doesn’t look so appealing anymore. “You don’t need to go this far just because you feel bad for me though. I’m a big girl. I can handle a breakup or two.”

My statement, heavily injected with denial, is met with complete silence. Nervously, I lift my head, chancing a glance at him out of curiosity. His soft features have been rearranged to one of... anger? Frustration? He’s taking deep breaths, as if to calm himself down. At the moment, he’s about to burst into a tirade, which occasionally happens when I do something stupid that warrants a scolding from him. But this time, for some reason, he’s trying to hold it in. While I’ve never relished being reprimanded like a child, no matter how much I deserve it, funnily enough, I find myself eager to find out what he’s trying so hard to keep in. “I didn’t do any of this because I feel bad for you,” he grinds out between his teeth — even after cooling down somewhat, he’s unable to completely contain his vexation. If this is his tempered down version, what had he originally meant to say? “It’s only because you’ve broken up that I can do this. I’ve always wanted to indulge you. All the time if I could, but you’ve always had a boyfriend, haven’t you? I didn’t want to cause trouble.”

Okay, this is seriously maddening. How am I supposed to get over him when he frequently sends mixed signals through his words and actions? Sometimes I really want to grab him by the shoulders, shake him hard and demand him to treat me like a friend since he only sees me as one. I like to tell myself that he treats me differently than his other female friends when I watch him interact with them, but I cannot convince myself that this is true. I know I can’t look at them objectively. What if I’m fantasising by myself, fancying that he treats me better, when in reality he behaves similarly towards everyone, and I’m just seeing him with rose-tinted lenses? I really hate myself when I’m like this. When it comes to Jimin, my logic lays down the hard truth mercilessly, but my wishful side can never fully accept it, encouraging me to indulge in useless visions of us together. 

Out of reflex more than anything else, I laugh self-deprecatingly. If imagining being with Jimin would bring me the most pain, then I’ll just focus on everything else. Even if that may hurt me as well. Nothing can be as bad as being rejected by him. And thanks to my brain reminding me that he doesn’t want me everytime I fantasise about us, I’ve felt the pain of rejection again and again, even if it’s all replayed memories in my own head. “Being single sucks,” I try to make it out as a joke, stabbing at the cake, picturing Se Hoon’s face there and maiming him repeatedly. It’s nowhere near as satisfying as it would be to do it to the real thing. He’s the reason Jimin is here now, so close to me for such a long duration while I’m single and vulnerable. Fucking Se Hoon. “It just reminds me that I’m not good enough for the guy I really want.”

“That guy must be the stupidest person on Earth,” Jimin quips loyally at once. I keep my head down so he doesn’t see me roll my eyes at his ignorant statement. How can he be so dense? The most devastating moment of my life, doled out by the person I love most, my best friend, and he doesn’t even remember that he was the one who’d said that.

Jimin and I have known each other since we were in kindergarten, but I have no idea how long it has been since I fell in love with him. It’s just one of those emotions that builds up gradually, so subtly that you don’t notice until one day; BAM! You realise that you love him and there’s no turning back. But even back then, before the rejection,  we’d grown really close, and I wasn’t sure if it was wise to jeopardise our friendship by coming clean about my romantic feelings for him.

It turned out that my hesitation was for the best, because Jimin made his feelings for me crystal clear in our second year of high school. He doesn’t know that I’m aware of it, though, since I’d heard my name being mentioned by one of his friends as I was approaching, and quietly hid against the wall around the corner to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Jimin’s then-new-girlfriend was with the group, being harassed by one of his friends, Ji Woo. Although I can’t remember who she was, or even her face, I do remember feeling some satisfaction over the fact that Jimin’s friends didn’t like her. It was a feeling that I shared. “I’m surprised you’re with her, Jimin,” Ji Woo had commented, not at all caring that she was right there with them. “When there’s already a perfect girl for you.”

“Really?” Jimin had pressed the button on the vending machine, and I’d heard the loud clanking sound of his drink being dropped into the hatch. “And who is it? Must have walked right by me.”

“He means your best friend, you dumbass,” another one of Jimin’s friends, Ha Rim, had filled him in. His then-girlfriend had made an outraged sound at hearing Jimin’s friends promote me to replace her, but no one other than Jimin seemed to pay her any attention. They were acting like only thin air was present where she stood, which was a good indication of how annoying she was. I never understood what Jimin had seen in her. True, she was extremely pretty, but other than that, she had no redeeming qualities. Peeking out of my corner, I’d seen Jimin rub her shoulder placatingly as he’d chuckled.

He’d said my name in a disbelieving tone, as if the idea of me being his girlfriend was so ridiculous that it was out of this world. The way he’d said it echoed in my mind for many weeks after that. I could still hear it in my head sometimes. “She’s one of us, yeah? You don’t fuck a bro, that’s gross.”

“I don’t know if she’d appreciate you treating her like one of the ‘bros’, Jimin,” Ha Rim had rebuked him gently, but it didn’t change Jimin’s mind. He’d just shrugged, not willing to get into an argument with them.

“Whatever it is, she’s just not girlfriend material.”

I hadn’t stayed to hear anything else after that, since I’d fled from the scene, afraid that my sobs would break out and they would discover me. Since then I’d done everything I could think of to get over him, but nothing had worked. All my boyfriends were just distractions, temporary fixes to the gaping hole in my heart that could never be filled.

“How I wish he knew that,” I say cryptically. A savage laugh bubbles up my throat, hearing Jimin unknowingly call himself stupid, but I refrain myself. My rage over his befuddling attitude still manages to sour the delectable dessert, and I shove down the rest of it. Before the day is completely ruined, it’s better if we return to the hotel. 

Being the dense dummy that he is, Jimin doesn’t notice that anything’s amiss, and we get into the car to drive back without incident. The bridge back to the island isn’t too far off from the small town and soon we’re on it once more. “There’s another bridge connecting the island to the mainland, you know,” Jimin breaks the more-or-less comfortable silence with this little tidbit of information.

“I know. You can see it from this bridge.” It makes me look to my right, past Jimin in the direction of the first bridge, just to double-check if I can see it from here. I’m sure I saw it during the day, but it’s a completely different scene now that it’s nighttime. The orange lamps overhead lighting our way along the second bridge are dull, but the same ones appear romantic and beautiful after a stretch of darkness in between the two bridges, illuminating the first bridge. Is the view of the second bridge just as pretty if we were to look at it from the first one? I’m not sure, but I’m content with enjoying the view from here.

“Then do you know that this is the longest bridge in Malaysia?” Jimin’s voice draws my eyes back from the distance to the man being outlined by the scenery I’ve been staring at. Unlike the flickering glow of the fireflies, the bulbs shine relentlessly from afar, never giving up on irradiating Jimin’s face. While not quite the same view, these lights make him look just as dazzling as he had in the boat. A halo of soft backlight, juxtaposing against the night to bathe him in their radiance.

Although I’ve been staring at him like an idiot, or perhaps because I’m proving myself a veritable one, only when he calls my name does it dawn on me that we’re having a conversation. Well, sort of. I’m not really in a chatty mood, but he has been making stabs at sparking up a discussion. “Uh,” I grunt without thinking, then mentally hit myself for pushing myself further down the ‘being a dummy’ road.

“What does that mean?” Jimin laughs, sparing me a quick glance before turning his focus back on the road. The windsocks are blowing merrily in a perpendicular direction to the mostly straight lanes, and Jimin is taking care not to drive too fast. It’s hard for me to ensure that we’re not speeding when there are hardly any cars around to compare our speed to. I can almost believe that Jimin and I are the only ones in this world, on a never-ending road surrounded by the sea. “Do you know or not?”

“No.” My eyes shift away as I answer, since I have no idea what I don’t know. Which is a fair answer – either I didn’t hear what he’d asked me, or I simply got distracted and forgot. Both sounds highly likely. Sensing a risk of him further probing me on whatever topic it is and figuring out that I haven’t been paying attention, I roll down the car window, hoping some fresh air will clear my mind.

Boy, is that a wrong decision. A strong, unrelenting gust of wind immediately blasts into the car. Jimin’s surprised yelp is barely heard over the loud howl from the sea, exacerbated by the speed we’re going at. Before the window has even reached halfway down, I pull the tiny lever the other way, quickly closing it back up.

“What was that?” As soon as soothing quiet fills the car again, Jimin demands to know the reason behind my inexplicable actions. While he doesn’t sound angry, it’s obvious that he’s genuinely concerned. I can’t blame him, after everything that’s been happening since last night. “You’ve been acting really weird.”

My reflection on the window on my side of the car shows a frowning woman with mussed hair chewing nervously on her bottom lip, brows fused together in confusion and frustration. “I feel out of it. But I’m not sure why.” This much is true. After suppressing my feelings for Jimin successfully since I was in school, why are they surfacing now? If I’ve known that we will never end up together for just as long, why is the pain becoming unbearable now? How can one kiss cause my world to implode? The emotional roller coaster has wrung me out and left me completely bewildered. Everything is so jumbled up inside my head that I’m not even sure where to even begin unravelling the mess.

At first Jimin doesn’t respond, which is understandable. I wouldn’t know what to say to such a vague statement either. We eventually reach the other end of the bridge. The scenery morphs from a dreamy wonderland to cold reality, with factories lining up the side of the road, replacing the endless sea. “Who’s that guy?”

“What guy?” This time I’m sure I haven’t been wrapped in my own thoughts, yet I still can’t make the head or tail of whatever Jimin is asking. Maybe I’ve lost all my wits for the second night in a row, even though this time there isn’t a drop of alcohol in me.

“The one that you want,” he clarifies bluntly.

What am I supposed to answer? ‘It’s you, stupid’?

Not wanting to make the rest of the ride more awkward than it is, I shrug. “Just a guy.” Just the kindest, perfect, heart-warming, densest guy.

Up until he parks the car next to the hotel, Jimin attempts to wear down my defenses, unwilling to leave his curiosity unsatisfied since I don’t fly off the handle or directly ask him to stop. Truthfully, the urge to tell him is becoming stronger by the minute. The dam holding my feelings back has become strained without my noticing. Just one more drop of persuasion threatens to loosen my tongue.

After making sure that I’ve gotten out of the car safely and closed the door, he locks the car. However, when he starts walking towards the hotel, I follow him at a much slower pace, lagging behind. Alternating between looking at the ground and his lean back. It doesn’t take long for him to notice that I’m getting farther and farther away from him; my slowing and fainting footsteps are a giveaway. Unsurprisingly, he turns back, wanting to return for me. However, his approach only heightens my nervousness. “Do you really want to know who he is?” I blurt out when he’s about a meter away from me. If he gets any closer, I don’t think I’ll be able to gather the courage to say it.

Thankfully, he stops at my question. Sensing my vulnerability. Like a bewildered, terrified animal, wary of anyone getting closer. “Of course, if you’re okay with sharing with me.”

Before I can change my mind or rethink my decision, I take the plunge. “It’s you.”

“Huh?” Why is he acting shocked? I think angrily, unfairly. He has no right to be surprised by this. This is not supposed to be news to him. “I’m the one? That you’re not good enough for?”

“It’s you, Jimin. You’re the one I want to be with.” Damn it, my voice is already cracking. But now that I’ve started, I can’t stop. All the things I’ve bottled up inside have become hot and angry from the constantly added pressure of being kept secret for so long. At this point, I might hate myself more than I love him. I hate myself because I still love him. “Isn’t it laughable? Even though you already made it clear that I’m not good enough for you from the beginning, I still can’t move on.”

Horrified by the words rushing like waterfall from my mouth, I try to escape, but Jimin catches my arm as I stride past him. I would have stumbled if his grip wasn’t so strong. In contrast to his strength, the street lamp is enough for me to see that all colour has drained from his face. “I would have never said such a thing. When did I say that?” His challenging words come out in an intense whisper, like he can’t believe he ever did such a thing and yet unsure if he hadn’t.

“I don’t know. High school, maybe?” It’s too late but I still play it off as if it isn’t a big deal. Like I don’t remember every detail of that excruciating incident vividly. “I’m not girlfriend material, and you made sure Ji Woo and Ha Rim know that too. And.. someone-or-other girl. Whoever it was you were dating back then. Can’t remember her name.”

I didn’t think it was possible for Jimin to grow paler, but he does, and his hold on me loosens as well. Not wanting to hear an insincere apology years too late, or worse, an encore of how I’m not girlfriend material, I yank myself out of his grasp and practically run into the safety of the building.

Once I’m ensconced in the relative safety of our room, I sit on the edge of the bed and take three deep breaths before panicking. What have I done?! It doesn’t look like Jimin pursued me inside, but he’s going to come in sooner or later. What will I say to him then? How will I ever face him again?

Sighing, I let my body slump dejectedly. I shouldn’t have said anything. Ever. I’ve always known that, but all the pent-up emotions have accumulated for far too long, and under constant continuous stress on this trip, they finally spilled over. And I had to choose the worst time and place to do it — in a foreign country where I have no place to run to. Just as I’m berating myself for that particular bit of foolishness, I hear the outside door to our room open and close. Belatedly realising that I should have searched for a place to hide before agonising over my recent mistakes, I get into a frenzy, whipping my head around every which way, desperately looking for a hole to crawl into.

That’s how Jimin finds me with my arms stretched wide, holding the doors to the wardrobe open, and one of my legs inside the furniture. “Uh.” Not the first time a dumb monosyllable is all I can think of today, but still, way to go.

“What are you doing?” Seeing my crazy antics, Jimin’s tortured expression rearranges into a befuddled one.

“Uhm, nothing.” Climbing out of the furniture, I pretend that I walk out of closets every day of my life. It doesn’t help ease the awkwardness after I close the doors and lean on them, though. I don’t trust myself to not say any more stupid things, and it looks like Jimin doesn’t know what to say either. But he does have something to say, if the way he opens his mouth, pauses, then closes it again is any indication. Seeing this, I keep quiet, waiting for him to figure out where to start. I’m not sure if I’m going to like anything he has to say, but short of jumping out of the balcony, I don’t see any way to escape from him. I cast a longing gaze at the door leading to it, wondering if it’s at all possible.

After what feels like an eternity, Jimin hesitantly hedges, “Uhm, can we… talk?”

I nod, still not trusting my verbal communication skills.

Jimin walks further into the room to take a seat at the edge of the bed, less than two meters from the wardrobe, and I have to fight the urge to distance myself from him. He inhales deeply, loud enough for me to hear, and finally starts. “Look, I’m really sorry about what I said back then. I didn’t even remember that it happened.”

“Of course you didn’t. It didn’t happen to you,” I bite out. Even though I can see that he’s beating himself up over it, I can’t help but drive the nail a little deeper. It has been a wound that has always festered under the surface, never healing.

“You’re right.” Jimin’s ready admission makes me feel slightly bad for being mean over it. “I have no excuse. It was a horrible thing to say. And it wasn’t true at all.”

“It wasn’t?” Damn it, I’m not supposed to be happy about it! Getting my hopes up over just a few vague words is only going to screw me over again, but I can’t stop myself from being elated. Did I mishear him? Did I misunderstand him somehow? So many lessons and I clearly haven’t learnt anything at all.

With a shake of his head, he explains; “Back then I was a dumb kid with raging hormones, and all I could think about was fucking everything that moved. Heh.” He lowers his head and scratches the back of it sheepishly, aware of how immature and shallow he was. Involuntarily, I soften at his words and actions, with his hair getting messy from his vigorous haphazard brushing. “You’ve never been someone that I want to simply fool around with. I might not have been smart enough to realise how special you are back then, but I knew that much. I must have said that to get that girl to go out with me. You, not being good enough for me – that’s ridiculous. If anything, I’m not good enough for you.”

“Oh.” Despite wishing for something like this, now that it has become reality, I can hardly believe it. “So me not being girlfriend material–“

“Was not true at all.” Jimin leans forward to take my right hand, securing it in both of his. He turns up his eyes at me, silently pleading for me to understand. To forgive him. And my defences against Jimin have always been paper-thin. “Is still not true. God.” He hangs his head again in defeat, slightly pulling me towards him as he sags against the bed. “It can’t be more opposite than that. You’re the one I’ve been in love with for the longest time.”

“What?” I try to breathe, but the air is lost somewhere in my lungs.

Instead of answering, Jimin stands up. The sudden movement startles me, especially as it puts him just inches away from me. The warmth is not just from our connected hands now, but I can feel it radiating from his whole body in the coolness of the air-conditioned room. His words coupled with his nearness make me even hotter – probably even more than the scorching outdoors in Penang during the day. When he reaches up to softly caress the side of my face, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear, I can’t be sure that I haven’t self-combusted. “You’ve become more than my best friend for ages. I might have even loved you since we were in school. Hell, I don’t know.” Taking another step forward, he closes the little distance left between us to lean his head against my shoulder. Facing this completely unexpected progress, I stand there stiffly, not knowing what else to do except trying not to lose my head. “I wanted to tell you so many times, but you’ve always had a boyfriend hanging around. Every time I swore I’d tell you once you broke up, but before I could work up the courage to say anything you’ve already found a new one. You never considered me, so I thought you just didn’t think of me that way. I guess I know why now.” Lifting his head, he stares into my eyes earnestly. I can’t look away even if I wanted to. His face is etched with regret, and yet I can see hope buried in his eyes. It mirrors the hope I’ve always felt. I just didn’t know that he felt the same way. “I’m really sorry for being a dick.”

A bubble of horrified laughter bursts out at hearing him describe himself as such. Trust Jimin to mend my bruised heart so easily, and break such a heavy moment by sort-of-playfully bashing himself. He deserves it, but now knowing that I’ve put him through similar anguish, I can’t stay mad at him for long. “It’s okay,” I say with a teary smile.

“Well, the cat’s out of the bag now. I love you.” He cocks his head, then asks, “You’re single now, right?”

Another string of gleeful laughter fills the room. “I am,” I confirm.

“Would you do me the honour of being my girlfriend, then?”

“I would.”

“Finally,” he sighs in relief, and my next round of giggles is lost somewhere between our lips as Jimin kisses me. If our first kiss was incredible, this one is a hundred times better. With no more doubts plaguing my mind, I can give all of myself into my love for Jimin. Just as he’s giving to me. At first he cups my face in his hands, tilting his head to deepen our kiss. In the hazy air of passion, it’s unclear who started to open up beyond the joining of our lips. I know he traced the line between my lips at some point, but I also sucked on his full bottom lip that has always, always caught my attention. Among his many flattering features, it’s the one that has always struck me as striking. A guy shouldn’t have such seductive, plump lips that no woman can resist.

Soon his hand is pressing me to him from the nape of my neck, like I’m not close enough to him. He needs to bring me closer. Our tongues dance with each other, within our mouths like they’re dark, dangerous ballrooms, before things get more intense, and these caverns morph into wet, sweaty arenas, where we wrestle out our lust. In a match that is a win-win for both players, where the energy only heightens, never ending. The palm covering my cheek moves so his arm can wrap against my waist, crushing me against him. Every part of my body is touching his, sending tremors of excitement from outside in. I huff against his mouth, out of breath, but past caring. I just want Jimin. More of him. All of him. And then some more.

From the looks of things, Jimin doesn’t want to let me go either. A tell-tale bulge is impossible to miss, but when I feel it pressing against me, a modicum of sense nudges against my muggy brain. Regretfully breaking the kiss, I pant out, “We should… take… a shower,” in between fighting my lungs for air.

Jimin’s groan ends in a whine that usually gets him what he wants. “Do we have to?”

“We should. I’m all sweaty.” Being outside most of the day has left me sticky. It’s one of those things that you can’t forget or ignore once you’ve noticed it, and I’m starting to feel uncomfortable. What’s going to transpire between Jimin and I is a no-brainer, and I don’t want my first time with him to be when I’m smelling of sweat.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty sure I’m going to sweat either way.” Unwilling to stop for something as trivial as cleaning up when we’re bound to get dirty again, Jimin slips his hand under my shirt, attempting to get me to agree with him.

However, I will not be deterred, even if my moan at his palm stroking the side of my body doesn’t sound very convincing. “Please, Jimin. It would make me feel better.”

This time Jimin’s groan is one of defeat. “Fine.” Honestly, I’m surprised that he relented so easily. I never really noticed how much he normally gives up for me. Perhaps I only notice when he’s whining like a child on the occasions where he really doesn’t want to give in, so I thought that he always gets his way. But if I really stop to think about it, he rarely pulls such an act – most of the time he actually listens to what I want, or outright asks me, and goes along with whatever I wish. Heart swelling with renewed affection, I nod without hesitation when he tugs against the hem of my shirt. “May I?”

Baring the tops of my breasts by removing my shirt, he can’t seem to stop himself from ogling them in my bra. Pushing so my back is against the closet, he dips his mouth against the skin available to him as his fingers fiddle with the clasp of my bra. Once the garment is loosened, he all but pulls it off, tossing to the floor, so he can move on to my nipples. “Jimin!” My cry for him is from pleasure, but he mistakes it as a warning.

“Just… for a little bit.” My right nipple pucker under the ministrations of his tongue, growing stiff more quickly than it takes for him to unbutton and unzip my jeans, dragging them onto the floor with my panties. It’s all happening so fast. I haven’t even processed the fact that I’m now completely naked before him, in the dimness of the room filled only by a lone lamp in the corner I’d switched on when I came in. He slips his knee between my legs, spreading them apart. What his words cannot achieve; lowering my defenses, is being threatened by the difference between the texture of his jeans and the smoothness of my bare legs.

And Jimin, that devil, knows this very well. Propping his leg up against the sturdy wooden wardrobe, he brings it into contact with my exposed center. The friction draws a moan from me instantly, and without prompting, I begin to rub against him like a deranged nymphomaniac, seeking traction from the rough material against my pussy. He hasn’t even touched me there, yet I’m already wet enough to lubricate my movements against his muscular thigh. Each stroke stimulates countless sparks that shakes my body like electricity. I know I should stop, but I can’t. Latching on to his upper arms, I lift my head up to look at him imploringly. “Jimin… please.” Right now I’m not even sure what I’m asking from him.

There must be something on my face that makes him look at me with blazing fire in his eyes, before swooping down to brand another soul-searing kiss on my lips. How am I supposed to hold myself back when he’s holding me so closely, when his hard muscles encourage me to move my hips even faster, when he takes my lips like he wants to inhale my very soul into his body? It hasn’t taken much, but I’m already trembling with my impending orgasm. “Fuck,” Jimin spits out, abruptly wrenching himself away from me. My feet land flat against the floor as I howl in protest at having my high yanked away from me.

He doesn’t listen to my objections. Instead he grabs my hand and pulls me in the direction of the bathroom, his free one working furiously to tear his own clothes off. His haste almost makes him trip at the threshold of the bathroom as he attempts to step out of his jeans. My horrified chuckle at this is met with an impatient, don’t-you-dare-laugh glare, which makes it even harder to hold back my mirth.

“Get in,” he growls so ferociously that I stumble backwards, laughter gulped down as my body follows the motion of his chin. Predatory eyes burn holes along my body, suddenly making me self-conscious of my nakedness, but not for long. My own gaze is fixed on him as he moves forward, the clumsiness from a second ago replaced by panther-like steps, only pausing to take off his underwear in a far smoother move than he did his jeans. For the second time, I gulp; on my saliva this time, upon seeing his erection spring out from its confines. While his length looks average, his girth has me excited and apprehensive at the same time. He steps into the glass cubicle, backing me up against the wall, and closes the door separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom behind him. The shower is spacious enough for two people to fit comfortably inside, yet I somehow find myself cornered like a trapped animal. “Well, what are you waiting for?” he asks edgily. “You wanted to shower, didn’t you?” He reaches around me to turn it on.

A stream of cold water hitting my skin makes me gasp, forming goose bumps that are soothed away once it warms to the temperature that Jimin has set. As incensed as I am by the unexpected shift in our relationship and Jimin’s enthusiasm, I’m comforted by having the grime and sweat of the day being washed away.

Jimin’s mind isn’t as easily distracted though. Pressing me up against the wall facing the shower head, he envelops my lips in another fervent kiss. I’m more than happy to give in to it, wrapping my arms around his neck, but instead of holding me, he extends his reach towards the soap, pumping a generous amount of viscous liquid into his palm. “Looks like I’m going to have to help you wash if I want to move things along,” he mutters against my lips.

His soapy palms move slowly down, from my neck, branching outwards along my clavicles then dip down to cup my breasts. My breathing grows heavy as he massages them. Moans start forming in the back of my throat when he begins paying attention to my nipples, flicking them almost playfully with his thumbs. He doesn’t remain there long enough for me, one of his hands continuing down my stomach to the apex of my thighs. “Funny, I’d say it’s wetter here than my whole body.” He rubs his fingers against my folds, as if inspecting them. I can’t argue; even though most of the shower water is hitting his back, my pussy is arguably wetter than he is, and I’m pretty sure it’s not from the pipes.

Without warning, Jimin pushes his index finger in, eliciting a startled gasp from me. “So wet,” he crows delightedly at how easily it slips in. “Do you think you can fit another one in here?” He doesn’t wait for my response before cramming another finger in, making me whimper in pleasure. “You like how it feels?” I nod, turning my face away in embarrassment. It doesn’t deter Jimin. He simply whispers in my exposed ear, “You want me to fuck you with my fingers?”

Yes. I want it so badly, yet to say the words is mortifying, so I nod again. Jimin tsk-tsks disapprovingly at my refusal to vocalise my answer. “Communication is key to a relationship, you know,” he teases, pushing his fingers in up to his knuckles, but refusing to move them any more. “How am I supposed to know what you want if you won’t tell me?”

This cruelly taunting side of Jimin is new to me. I can’t say that I hate it. Not when it’s turning me on so much. “Please Jimin,” I plead with him. “Fuck me with your fingers.”

Tilting his head to the side, Jimin puts on a show of considering my plea. Then he shakes his head, and I know that he never intended to do it in the first place. “No, I don’t think I will.” Leaning forward, he nibbles at my earlobe, telling me, “I’d rather taste you instead.”

Getting the full brunt of the jet of water from the shower when Jimin suddenly kneels at my feet, I sputter in surprise. Jimin uses my momentary confusion to spread my legs even further apart so he can bury his face between them. “Oh!” My hands fly to grasp at his wet hair, holding on for dear life as he goes all out from the get-go. Easily capturing my clit between his lips, he sucks hard, making my knees buckle and my previously unfulfilled orgasm rush back with a vengeance. “Jimin!!” He’s relentlessly alternating between flicking the tiny bud with the tip of his tongue and trying to suck it right off, and I can’t withstand his attack. Flick, flick, flick. And then suck, as hard as he can. In less than a minute I’ve lost completely, making him bear my weight as I cum violently. If he isn’t holding me up by the waist, I probably would’ve collapsed, maybe even slipped in the wet cubicle. Without missing a beat, he releases my clit to run his tongue along my slit, lapping up every drop of his victorious spoils and prolonging my orgasm.

Standing up, he maintains his hold on me, which I appreciate because I still don’t trust the strength of my legs. “You okay?” I can barely register his question in the hazy aftermath of my orgasm, but I manage to nod. Jimin pumps more soap to wash me with as I recover, then swiftly washes himself. Once he determines that both of us are clean enough, he turns the water off. “Can we go now?” He asks, wrapping his arms around me so he can rub his dick, which has grown slightly soft, against my belly. It’s unfair that he’s pushing his advantage like that. Just doing this is getting me aroused again.

As much as I want to get out as soon as we can, there is unfortunately one thing that we need to do first. “Jimin, we should dry our hair. Otherwise we’ll catch a chill.”

Relenting after letting out only one dissatisfied huff indicates that he agrees with me. It doesn’t mean that he’s happy with it. I smother a smile at his adorable childishness, which is a stark contrast to what he was just doing to me in the shower, and what he wants to skip all these small details to do to me in bed. By the time I’ve wrapped myself in a towel, he’s already by the socket next to the sink, hair dryer in hand. “Hurry, hurry,” he urges, pointing the device on full blast to my face.

“Ooof!” Instinctively squeezing my eyes shut to protect them from the powerful gust of warm air, I blindly swipe in his direction, hoping to smack Jimin for his immature prank and the mischievous guffawing that comes with it. Once Jimin directs the nozzle back towards his own hair and out of my face, I fix him a glare, which he returns with a Cheshire grin. He rakes his fingers through his hair roughly, anxious to be done with it. Sure enough, he finishes in record time. “Come on, let’s do you.” He tries to turn me around, but I refuse the offer, giving his messy job, with soft strands sticking up every which way, a pointed look.

“I’ll do it myself, thanks.”

Wisely deciding that handing me the hair dryer will be quicker than trying to argue with me, he relents. Then he leans against the wall next to the sink. With only a towel around his waist, looking like he has all the time in the world to just watch me do something as mundane as drying my hair. I turn towards the mirror, mentally instructing my eyes not to look at him. However, they’re not keen to follow orders, and flick towards his reflection every few seconds. It’s impossible for me to calm myself down like this. Especially not when I can see the obvious tent in his towel, threatening to part the cloth that’s barely covering him. It must have grown harder from the friction against my stomach just now, as well as the anticipation of what’s to come.

 “You can go ahead and wait outside.”

“Eh?” He starts to protest but stops when he sees my entreating look. “Okay,” he yields in a wounded puppy pitch. “But hurry, okay?”

I nod, only turning towards the mirror again after I see him closing the door to the bathroom. I’m glad that he’s giving me this bit of space to think. Even though I’m ecstatic by this turn of events, there’s so much to process that it’s overwhelming. And I’m hesitant to go all the way with Jimin without sorting it out. To me it’s a monumental thing. A really huge step. My sigh is drowned out by the loud whirring of the hair dryer, but the sound has become white noise.

So the incident that has plagued me for so many years turned out to be a misunderstanding. While it doesn’t excuse Jimin from what he’d said, there was never any truth behind those words. It had always baffled me that Jimin would think, much less say, such a thing. Even if he wasn’t interested in me, it doesn’t seem to be in line with Jimin’s personality to measure a girl’s worth so much as to label her something as horrid as ‘not girlfriend material’. The most is he’d think someone isn’t his type, and just move on. He’s one of the kindest people I know, but he isn’t perfect. I’m aware of that. We were young back then. It makes more sense that Jimin was only thinking about getting a girl in bed with him rather than weighing the consequences or fairness of saying something so hurtful.

Switching the electric device off, I gaze at myself in the mirror one last time, finding resolution. What matters now is the future. Am I ready to go forward?

The first thing I notice when I enter the bedroom is that Jimin has gathered all the pillows on his side of the bed, and is resting against them. Before I can wonder what he’s up to, he notices my presence and sits up, like a puppy waiting for his master to come home. It would have been heart-meltingly cute and endearing if he wasn’t gripping his erection in his right hand. Was he masturbating while waiting for me? The thought of it is more arousing than I’d have thought. Maybe there is something wrong with me. “Come here,” he beckons me over, and I approach him a little warily. He helps me atop the bed, manoeuvring my legs so I sit astride his lap.

This puts me face-to-face with him, but more importantly, he’s holding me so I’m sitting right atop his cock. I can predict a very speedy loss in focus. “Jimin,” I begin to ask, then moan when he grinds his hips against mine. “Jimin, are you sure about this?”

“A hundred and ten percent,” he responds, but his attention isn’t on me. Even in the semi-darkness, I can see his eyes are narrowed in the direction of our lower bodies.

Exasperated, I try again, wanting to make myself clear before anything happens that I may regret later. Damn, I’m cockblocking myself, but I know that I’ll be in a world of hurt if this turns out to be a temporary thing. I may be asking for too much, but I can’t do it. Not with Jimin. “No, not just this. I mean… are you sure about… going into a relationship with me? What if…”

Jimin looks up, his expression turning serious, and places a finger against my lips. “Stop that. We’ve known each other since we were kids, and I think I know you pretty well.” He briefly stops, waiting for confirmation, and I nod. No one knows me better than Jimin does. “You always overthink things, and when you’re not doing that, your head is filled with thoughts of food.” Even though his assessment is accurate, it doesn’t stop me from hitting him in the chest indignantly, but he only chortles. “It doesn’t matter what you lack. I still love you after all this time, and I’m confident that I won’t stop, no matter what happens. And about what I said back then…” Adopting a sober mien, he brushes my cheek lovingly, leaning closer to gaze into my eyes intently. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make up for it. Okay?”

“Okay,” I concede tearfully. There’s no one else who can put me at ease so easily. I wouldn’t say that the years-old scar has magically healed, but his touch soothes away all the pain. Closing the scant centimeters between us, I give him a quick peck. An innocent move, which Jimin changes immediately by drawing me into his arms, pulling me back in for a far more intense kiss. He pulls on my towel, already loosened by my movements, exposing my body to his touch. It’s like there’s fire in his fingertips, setting me aflame wherever he touches – from my hip, to the side of my waist, up to my breasts. Devilishly zoning in on my sensitive spots, sweeping back and forth over the stiffening tips of my chest. All night he has been giving me pleasure, and I want to return the favour.

Ignoring both the loss of the heady sensation from being in contact with his cock and Jimin’s growl of protest, I shift myself down towards the foot of the bed. Taking his half-hard erection in my hand, once again I marvel at its girth. Already I can’t wrap my hand completely around it. The thought of having it inside me is making me shiver in anticipation. Wanting to get a feel of it, I slide my hand up from the base, taking care not to be too rough with my dry hand. It’s enough to get Jimin to moan, the wild yet melodic sound instantly heating up my insides with lust. I want to make him feel good. I move down even further, lowering myself to do just that, but Jimin stops me halfway. “Wait.”

Surprised that he would keep me from sucking him off, I glance up at him, tucking my hair behind my ear so that it doesn’t obstruct my view. “Hmm?”

“Plenty of time for that later,” he exhales restlessly. Grabbing me by my waist, he lifts me up slightly, getting me off of him. Then he wiggles down the space between me and the mattress, comically moving to lie down on his back. It’s hard not to snort all over him.

“What are you doing?” Just how many times is he going to make me laugh while we try to get it on tonight?

“Getting what I want,” he pants, and I’m guessing it’s due to the exertion of his completely unnecessary action rather than being horny. Jimin is such an idiot sometimes. He ignores my eye roll though. “More importantly, are you ready for me?”

Instead of waiting for me to formulate a verbal answer, he reaches down to find the answer for himself. I jolt forward with a moan when Jimin swipes his fingers over my slit, then immediately rams two inside me. I’m sure I dried myself off after getting out of the shower earlier, but somehow I’ve gotten wet enough for his digits to slide into me without much resistance. “So wet already,” Jimin answers for me, even though the mortifying squelching sounds coming from my pussy makes it pretty clear that I’m ready for him. “I want to fuck you. Right now.”

Even though Jimin’s fingers are wrecking the best kind of havoc in me, I want the same thing. More than that, I want to make him feel good too. Before I can put my plan into action though, Jimin slaps the bed angrily. “Shit. I’m clean, but I don’t have a condom.” Scowling, he runs his fingers through his hair angrily, following it with a longer string of curses than I’ve ever heard him utter in my presence. I bite the insides of my cheeks so I can swallow the bubble of laughter back into my throat.

“It’s fine,” I reassure him. “I’m on the pill.” Although I haven’t slept with Se Hoon for ages, I kept taking them. Maybe I’ve continued doing so out of habit. Or maybe I was always unconsciously hoping for something to happen between me and Jimin, as far fetched as it seemed. Well, it’s clearly not as impossible as I’d thought.

“Thank goodness,” Jimin collapses back onto the sheets in relief, amusing me to no end. He doesn’t miss it, and shoots me a look that tells me he’s aware that I’m finding him funny. “I don’t think I can hold back at this point,” he warns me darkly, and I take it as a cue to continue. Bracing my hands on his chest, I sit up shakily. Reading my mind like he always does so expertly, he removes his hand so I can move my hips along the length of his dick. Up and down, up and down, covering him in my juices. I don’t know how he became this hard when I’ve barely done anything for him. But I’ll pleasure both of us now. Lining the tip of his cock with my pussy, I take a deep breath as I feel the bulbous head poking against my entrance. Then I face up to find that Jimin is staring at me with such scorching fire that I can feel my skin blister from the heat. He might just want this more than I do, although I can’t imagine a yearning any stronger than mine.

“Hnng,” I groan as I lower myself down slowly. Belatedly I attempt to figure out the last time I had sex in my head. Even before breaking up, Se Hoon and I hadn’t slept together for a while due to our busy schedules. I didn’t think much of it back then, and had thought that he didn’t mind, either. It turns out that he didn’t mind, but only because he was satisfying his urges with someone else. But I don’t want to think about that now. Not when Jimin’s cock is parting my flesh, its girth pushing my walls aside to make its way in. It’s not even halfway in yet I’m already breathless. The burn feels amazing, even if it’s making me mewl from the pain.

“Does it hurt?” Jimin asks through gritted teeth. “Go slowly.”

Unable to voice an answer, I bob my head in acknowledgement. Taking my time descending on Jimin magnifies the sensation of his cock stretching me out. By the time I’ve sheathed myself over him completely, I feel ready to burst. I’ve never felt so full and I tilt my head back as if to absorb the feeling. But I’m not the only one adjusting to this. Jimin’s grip on either side of my waist is slightly painful, betraying a strength that I wasn’t aware he possesses. “Fuck, so tight,” he grinds out like he can hardly stand the pleasure. “Fuck.”

After giving myself a few seconds to get used to having him inside me, I begin to lift myself up again, then sit back down on him, making both of us groan. I don’t know if I can ever get used to this. Still, I repeat the motion, impaling myself over and over his cock, hips accelerating as I get a sense of the rhythm. Jimin’s unconcealed moans spur me on; knowing how good I’m making me feel drives me to take it higher. But I’m not the only one determined to bring pleasure to my partner.

Even as I bounce on his cock, Jimin manages to reach for my clit, capturing it between his index and middle fingers in a ‘V’. Helped by my rapid movements, he pulls up, exposing my clit to the air. Tongue licking his lips, he looks at it like a delicacy that he’d love to devour. However, unable to do that, he makes do with his thumb. He alternates moving it in circular motions around the nub and grinding against it, all the while pinching it with his other two fingers. My hips stutter from his ministrations, but I don’t want to stop. I can’t, even if I wanted to. Not when he’s stimulating me like this. But I can feel the end approaching me rapidly, faster than I want it to. “Ji—Jimin, wait.”

I should’ve known that he’s not going to do as I say this time. “Give me a good reason to wait,” he challenges.

“I can’t take it.” My body is already shaking from its proximity. I’m about to crest the high, but I want to last longer. “Please, Jimin, or I’m going to come.”

“All the more reason for me not to wait, then.” Jimin takes my reasoning and tosses it out the window. In direct contrast to my request, he teases my clit even more, pushing me forward so I can’t stall it any longer. The knot growing inside me shrinks into itself, compressing impossibly before exploding like fireworks. With a cry of his name, I catch myself from collapsing completely on top of him by bracing my hands on either side of his torso. Jimin releases my clit to grab my waist, pushing me down against him, moaning as he feels my muscles contracting around him. “You’re so sensitive,” he remarks as I start to recover.

There’s nothing I can say to his comment. There’s nothing to say, really. I don’t recall ever being this receptive to someone else’s touch. It has been a while, I think, not wanting to admit that my sensitivity might have been caused by the person touching me, rather than the duration I’ve been deprived of such attention. Burying my face into the crook of Jimin’s shoulder, I inhale his scent; the perfect home to come to after falling down from my high. The realisation that I must be crushing him with my weight comes suddenly. I jolt up to move off of him, but he tightens his hold on my waist, halting me. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Uh, I must be heavy, and I–“ Jimin doesn’t give me the time to inform him that I can barely move, returning me back into place right above him and whispering;

“I’m not done yet.”

Digging his fingers in so deep I’m sure he’ll leave me with bruises, he pulls out of me, all the way to the tip. My sigh at the loss becomes a shriek midway when Jimin slams back all the way in without so much as a warning. He doesn’t stop there; in fact, that’s the speed that he’s setting for me. Pounding into me from underneath without mercy, without hesitation, without pause. My relaxed legs quickly grow tense again, as his rapid thrusting stokes a new fire in me. “Jimin, Jimin!” I call out for him in between gasps, every thrust knocking the air out of my lungs and every shred of intelligible thought out of my head, until his name is all that remains. My feet curl inwards, trying to withstand the pleasure but in futility. If he isn’t gripping me so firmly, I would have ended up sprawled over him. However, I have nowhere to run. Forced to take every single one of his hard thrusts. Each one making my lower body wrap tighter and tighter around him.

“Close.” Out of breath, Jimin manages to utter only one word, but he slips a hand between our bodies, closer now that I’ve crumpled over him under his rough pounding, leaving no question as to what he means when he pinches my clit between his fingers again. My body contracts until there’s no space left, and I can’t breathe. Whether my brain is hazy due to the lack of oxygen or because I’m on the verge of cumming, I don’t know. One moment later I climaxing again. Jimin doesn’t need to be told that; my cries of ecstasy and squeezing walls are enough to clue him in. He wraps an arm around my waist and seizes my right shoulder, holding me even more securely in place as his hips accelerates to a speed beyond my imagination. Panting and moaning, I latch onto his shoulders so I can receive his rough thrusts, each one knocking me several inches upwards. Unlike before, Jimin doesn’t give me time to recover, too focused on using my tightening muscles spasming around his cock to reach his own high.

It doesn’t take long, but I’ve regained enough sense of mind to register him sinking his face against my neck as he comes. Each of his grunts accompanying every deliberate, deep thrust, pumping his seed into me is so close to my ear, I can feel the hot air that comes with them. There is an odd feeling of being the one to comfort him as his body quakes. It’s like he trusts me to keep him safe at his most vulnerable, and I immerse myself in the feeling proudly for a while.

By the time Jimin rolls me over to the side, I’m starting to get drowsy. My legs twitch when his limp dick slips out a little, and my eyes flutter open to find that he’s staring at me. “What is it?” Absurdly, I feel a little shy. This is just Jimin after all. On the other hand, I’ve never been with Jimin like this before.

“Nothing. I just can’t believe this isn’t a dream.”

The relatable statement makes me grin. “I know. Me too.”

“It seems like such a waste to just… go to sleep.”

No way. “What do you mean?”

“You know, just…” He shrugs with all the innocence of a toddler, but it doesn’t fool me for one second. Especially when he nuzzles against my neck, then almost immediately switches to kissing and sucking the sensitive flesh. A pressure within makes me moan, feeling myself getting fuller as Jimin grows hard again. “I spent four nights in bed with you and I couldn’t even touch you. Do you know how difficult that was? I was about to go insane.”

The dawn of the following morning is slightly chilly, but that’s what makes it refreshing. Even though I greet the day with a yawn as I rest my forearms against the railing of the balcony, I’m feeling very content and reinvigorated. A light mist shrouding the garden before me gives it a cool, dream-like quality. Each plant has bountiful leaves – it’s always summer in Malaysia, after all – and each one is heavy with morning dew. I wish I could reach and touch the moisture with my fingers.

With time, my brain starts to function more efficiently, and I begin to think about the events of last night. Of course I’m ecstatic about finally being in a romantic relationship with Jimin, the man that I’ve been pining over for so long, but I’d be lying if I say that I don’t have any doubts. I’ve been so focused on getting over him that I never stopped to think what it would mean to have my best friend as my boyfriend. The obvious question is: what if it doesn’t work out between us?

Like Jimin said last night, he has known me for many years now. There aren’t many flaws of mine that he isn’t aware of. I’m quite confident that I know most of the things I need to know about him too. And just like Jimin, none of it has made me fall out of love with him. If anything, his imperfections make me love him even more. I can’t think of any reason that would make us break up, but it’s always a possibility. What would happen to our friendship should the worst come to pass? I hope we can still be friends somehow.

Just the thought of it is depressing enough to make me heave a sigh. There’s no point in speculating about the future. I already know that I can barely endure not being with him. It was torture to watch him with girlfriends when I so desperately, so selfishly wanted to fill that role. Now that my wish has come true, we just have to go forward and do our best. If it doesn’t work out, then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I’m not delusional enough to think that everything will be perfect from now on, but I hope for every rainy day we have to suffer through, there will be a sunny one that will balance it out. Smiling to myself, I enjoy this blissful feeling I never knew I’m capable of feeling. With Jimin, I’m sure my life will be full of happy days, like an eternal summer.

“What’s up with you?” A teasing, rhetorical question comes from behind, making me jump in surprise. I turn around to find Jimin leaning against the frame of the glass door, looking cool as a cucumber. But I see the laughter dancing in his eyes. “One second you were sighing, and the next you were grinning like an idiot.”

Feeling blood rushing to my cheeks in embarrassment at being caught entertaining my thoughts, I spin back to face the garden. “Nothing! How long have you been here?”

“Long enough to want to get a closer look at you.” Jimin approaches and hugs me from behind. He wastes no time sniffing against my neck like a little puppy. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mmhmm.” How could I not? After that second round, I was ready to nod off, but he’d recovered by then and had asked me if he could take me up on that earlier offer to give him a blowjob. How could I say no? And he wasn’t content to finish up in my mouth, either – no, he wasn’t as rough as he was the first time, but he still finished inside me. It left me exhausted and I went out like a light afterwards. I’m not sure what made me wake up so early, but I do feel well-rested, though quite sore.

“I’m glad.” I can feel and hear him smiling against my ear rather than see it. Although I’m not sure if he’s glad because I’ve gotten enough rest, or because the stiff shaft I can feel pressing against my back needs some attention. Given that he’s already tracing the crevices of my ear with his tongue, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the latter.

“I’m beginning to think that you’re a monster.” My complaint doesn’t sound very convincing since it’s followed by a keening moan. He’s quick to slide his hand up my thighs and under my bathrobe, discovering that I’m not wearing anything underneath. His sharp inhale lets me know how aroused he got from that revelation.

“I’m not usually this horny,” he admits, leaning me down to rest my upper body against the railing so my ass juts out. I can hear the shuffling of his slippers as he moves back, but before I can turn around to see what he’s doing, I feel his tongue running all the way from the bottom up to my asshole. My back arches from the unexpected jolt of pleasure, hitting me like a bolt of lightning down my spine. “Maybe we need to make up for… what, a decade’s worth of love-making?” Despite being sore, my pussy clenches at the ridiculous notion. A whole  decade? “Fuck, you’re so wet already.” The loud, wet sounds his tongue makes as he laps against my slit doesn’t leave me any room to argue. I only let out a whine when he reaches around to press against my engorged nub. “You’re swollen,” he says concernedly, contrasting with his unrelenting ministrations. “Are you okay?”

“If you’re worried–mmmnn–“ Against my better judgement, I push myself back against his mouth, craving for more. “Why are you doing this?”

Jimin’s reply is lost somewhere within my folds, but once his tongue pushes past my entrance, I stop caring about his answer. It’s amazing how easily Jimin unearths my most sensitive spots. Not just how putting pressure against my clit stimulates me more than circular motions, but also how a feather-like touch along the side of my body makes me tremble or that lightly nibbling my nipples makes me buck beneath him. However, a night of thorough attention has made all of me super sensitive, and I’m already on the verge of tears while my head is screaming for more. “Jimin, please,” I beg. “I need you now.”

Those words are all the encouragement that Jimin needs. Standing behind me, he lifts the lower part of the bathrobe up so he can press his insistent hard-on against my entrance. “No, wait, Jimin.” Remembering where we are right now, I begin to panic. “Let’s go inside.”

Of course, Jimin has never been one to listen to orders. “No one’s up yet,” he overrides my protest, and cuts off any oncoming ones by slamming his hips against mine, pushing his thick cock all the way inside in one stroke. Tears fall from my eyes and my scream breaks the stillness of the morning at the brutal insertion. “Shh,” he comforts me, raining kisses all over the side of my neck and shoulders as I sob. “Someone will hear us if you don’t keep it down.”

“Damn it, Jimin, you’re the meanest – ah! Ah!” I can’t even finish reprimanding him. How can I, when my body reacts to him so easily, and the fact that anyone passing by can see us, or other hotel guests can hear us turns me on even more? Taking a little mercy on me, Jimin grabs my chin, directing me to look back so he can kiss me, somewhat effectively swallowing my moans. The intense kiss matches the force of his thrusts below; slower than last night but with more strength. He lowers his hand to slip it inside my bathrobe, groping my left breast, using it as an anchor as his cock drives me to oblivion. Everything he does intoxicates me, making me drunk to the point I don’t know up and down, so that I no longer give a damn about anyone seeing him pounding into me in broad daylight. All I can think about is the tingling sparks of friction from every stroke of his cock sliding in and out of me, the tiny pinpricks of pleasure and pain like scorching embers feeding a bonfire growing more and more out of control within me. “Jimin,” I gasp when he releases my lips for air, “coming.”

He kisses me, then pulls at my lower lip. “Come,” he coaxes me with his fingers pinching my nipple, making me mewl, and with the short words his brain can muster in his state. “With me. Now.”

After several hard thrusts, Jimin brings me to my climax and follows me right after. He holds me tightly, supporting me so my shaking legs don’t suddenly give way from under me, although I can tell from his quivering body that he’s having trouble keeping himself up. The sturdy railing provides the support we both need, and we cling to it as we catch our breaths. A few minutes later, we’re still panting, but Jimin slowly sits down on the floor, guiding me to sit across his lap. I’ve hugged Jimin countless times before when we were still just friends, but I think after sex might be the best time for cuddling with him.

His comforting arms almost lulls me to sleep, but the gradually escalating heat of the rising sun brings me back to my senses. Opening my eyes, I ask drowsily, “What time is it?”

Jimin shrugs. “Who knows.”

Resisting the urge to follow his devil-may-care attitude, I climb out of his lap to crawl towards the table where I’d left my handphone. My eyes widen when I see the numbers on display. “Jimin! There’s less than three hours before our flight! We need to go, now!”

We get ready and packed in record time. Soon we’re begging our driver to drive us as quickly as possible to the airport, both of us still huffing and panting, but this time for a completely different reason compared to this morning. The young driver shakes his head in disapproval, but accedes to our wishes, driving at a speed I’m not sure is legal, expertly zipping in and out between cars. We earn a few honks, but I try to detach myself from the chaos, leaning back against the seat to try and calm my racing heartbeat.

“This is all your fault, you pervy animal,” I hiss at Jimin under my breath. “If we can’t board our plane you’re going to pay for both our tickets back home.”

Jimin’s smirk is charming and utterly unrepentant. “Worth it.”

Thank you for reading! As always, comments/asks/likes are very welcome :)

[what-the--curtains]

In a Week

Part 3/4 - Snowballs and cigarettes

(Frankie Morales x f!reader)

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Summary: The snows finally stopped and its about time you got to work unburying your car. With your friends all prompting you to move on from your toxic ex you find yourself becoming more and more aware of the kind of person you’d want to be with. And how Frankie was ticking all those boxes.

Authors notes: Ugh okay I was over the max block text so the finale is split into two parts!! But you get them both tonight💕🌻💕 .

Warnings: mentions of toxic relationships, allusions to sex (nothing depicted), PTSD, smoking, drinking, swearing

Tagged: @agingerindenial @icanbeyourjedi

Word count: 4.0k

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Day 4

It had only been three days but you had found yourself in a routine that you hoped you never fell out of. Each morning he’d wake up first and you’d be predictably wrapped around him for another 2 hours or so. He found it hard to believe you were able to wake up before 10am, let alone that you were up at 5am most days but he’d love to be around to see it happen. For the first time, he saw something he’d long given up on. A future with someone else ingrained into his and his daughters life. Maybe it was stupid feeling this way after a few days, but he was old enough to know when he felt a real connection, and he’d never felt as good as he did when he was with you. He would make his feelings known to you, one way or another, he’d regret it forever if he let you slip through his fingers. He just had to find the right time to do it. It had been a long time since you’d woken up with someone in the same bed as you and even longer since the person was someone who made you feel safe and secure. There was something calming about knowing that even if you pushed your freezing cold feet between his calves in the middle of the night he wouldn’t get angry, or push you off he’d just grumble and pull you closer.

It sounded pathetic but it was the nicest a guy had been to you in years. You knew how stupid it was to catch feelings this fast, and it definitely wasn’t like you to feel such strong emotions. Since the funeral you had actively decided to forego them although. This benefited your work, helped you in your field, made you a better doctor, but keeping all your emotions bottled up took its toll. Primarily on your love life. You’d had your fair share of flings with other residents, nurses, friends of friends, but between classes and shift work there wasn’t time. Plus what was the point when you had no idea where you’d be moved to. At least that’s what you told yourself. Then Jonathan came along and you’d let him in, let him know you and you fell for him in the process. Then he’d started dating someone else, told you he didn't realize you were exclusive, and it shattered you completely. You’d pieced yourself back together and once you were better, once you were finally over him, he’d cycle back round to you, determined to keep you on retainer. The whole ordeal had left you tired. You’d never had a real relationship and you were already done with them. You never understood how people would want to live with someone for the rest of their lives until now. Catching feelings had always happened in periphery to your life making it easy to push by a crush by simply avoiding them, but you couldn’t avoid Frankie. Each day you spent trapped inside with him he’d continued to grow on you, cementing your feelings for him tenfold. You yawn and stretch your leg out over Frankies torso propping yourself up onto your elbow so you can reach over him and grab the glass of water on the nightstand. He exhales as if your movement across him is an inconvenience to his meticulous strategy for winning whatever game he was playing on his phone. You take a sip and put the cup back down, rolling off the bed and opening the curtains.

“Hey!” you shout, causing Frankies head to shoot over to you, “It stopped snowing!” you exclaim, gazing out over the parking lot where the snow had fallen. The powder undulating overtop the cars buried beneath it. You stretch your arms up catching an unsavoury whiff coming from your armpits causing you to pull a face. Turning around just in time to see Frankie laughing from the bathroom door.

“Seriously man? Do you have to beat me to everything!” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Gotta be faster sweetheart.” he says, closing the door behind him. From anyone else the term would have driven you into a rage induced frenzy, but it was endearing not condescending coming from him. You take the time to call Stella, you’d been texting with her since you got stuck but you felt it was time to officially announce your arrival as permanently cancelled.

“Hey girl”

“Hey babe what's going on? You calling with good or bad news?” she asks, a constant bustle evident in the background.

“Don’t shoot the messenger, but only bad news on my end. I am so fucking sorry, I should have just flown down like you said” you offer, leaning back against the window allowing the chill of the outside to cool you off.

“Well this is why you should always listen to me, but i’ll forgive you just this once.” she laughs.

“God I can’t believe the one wedding I actually care about I’m going to miss!” you exasperated, shifting away from the window and flopping down onto the bed.

“Well I definitely won’t miss you, especially considering you’ve already sent a gift.” she teases.

“How, very dare you” you punctuate.

“Yup long con paid off, 10 years I pretended to like you just to get you to buy me a toaster from ebay” Stella laughs.

“You could have just stolen mine after the first year, then you could have had me gone!” you state.

“Ugh a huge mistake!!” she overemphasizes dramatically, causing you both to burst out laughing.

“So….” you say after your giggles subside leaving a gentle ache in your ribs that always occurred when you talked to Stella.

“What?” she asks, sniffling.

“ Did John make it out there?” you ask, in a painfully transparent way.

“Why?” she spits, her tone suddenly lethal. She hated the guy, she was the one who was always left dealing with you after he’d used you up, helping to piece you back together, just in time for him to get a hold on you again.

“He asked about me?” you query, once again failing to convey your intentions.

“I’m not indulging this anymore, it's bad for you. He’s bad for you, there's only so many times I can watch him emotionally manipulate you” she rants.

“Ya, but it's easy and it's so good with him.” you emphasize.

“It’s not easy, take it from someone in an easy relationship, it's not supposed to hurt that much.” she chides, determined to have you see the light.

“But..”

“Nope, I'm drawing the line for you, find someone else. You’re a gorgeous single doctor,

“Almost doctor” you interrupt, but the statement is ignored.

“Aren’t you currently shacked up with one of my stupid brothers friends?”

“Yes? And?” you say, your heart suddenly beating faster as your head turns to see Frankies hat on the nightstand.

“Frankie right? Statue like, soft curls, kind, deep brown eyes? And don’t pretend like you didn’t notice I know you like the back of my hand!”

“So what if I have, doesn't mean..” you whisper, not wanting him to hear you.

“Nope, don’t sell yourself short, I say get cozy with him and finally move on from dickhead McGee, even if it's just for a night, cleanse the palette. Besides, you know he’ll be doing whoever looks his way at my wedding.” you hear a muffled shout “alright I have to go, something about the bridesmaids fighting.”

“Your sisters? Fighting? Who could have seen that coming” you deadpan.

“I know, god I wish you were here.”

“I wish I was as well i'll call tomorrow in case you get cold feet, I have a five point plan”

“I won't” she chimes.

“ I know because you love her”

“And I also love you” she says

“And I love you” you respond before hanging up. Not even a minute after hanging up you get a call from Santiago

“Hey, I just wanted to verbally apologize for trapping you with ‘Fish, though he's definitely one of the better ones to get stuck with.” he says.

“Well that’s good to know” you laugh, rolling your eyes.

“He hasn’t tried anything has he? If he has I'll kill him, and get away with it, you'll have to help me with the body but...” Santiago starts.

“Santi, it's fine he's cool, really sweet, actually,” you offer heat rushing to your face for some unknown reason.

“Good. He touches you ill..” he warns.

“You’ll kill him ya I got it!” you snap, you understood why Santiago felt like he had to play big brother for you but sometimes he was a touch overbearing. “Is John there?” you try and ask casually, failing to head Stellas advice.

“Don’t...” Santi starts, you can practically hear his jaw clench over the phone “you know if I see him tonight i'm gonna knock him out for how he treats you”

“It wasn’t that bad.” you whisper.

“It was, still is, I heard him bragging about how if worse comes to worse he always has his plan D,” he offers, not to hurt you but to try and free you from the cycle.

“That dick. You know what Stellas right, fuck him!” you exclaim with a newfound determination to rid him from your life.

“Oh my god, are you finally seeing the light?” Santi asks “Praise the lord!” He shouts up into the sky.

“Ya I guess so” you say staring at Frankie as he dries his hair with the towel. “I gotta go, see you soon.”

“Not soon enough” he laughs as you hang up.

“Whose that?” Frankie asks, still curious about who you’d been hoping to see at the wedding and what they’d done to earn your affection.

“Pope!” you say with a smile, pushing your back off the bed and sitting up.

“Threatening to kill me?” Frankie predicts.

“Ya we have a plan” you murmur.

“We?” he asks, a twinkle in his eye and his mouth upturned at the sides.

“Well he'll kill you but, I cant have him go to jail so i'll have to hide your body.” you explain

“Good glad that got sorted” he says, his smile now in full effect.

“I'll go grab some breakfast” you say.

“No ill get it, you’re always getting it, plus gives you time to shower, I can smell you from here.” He prods, grabbing the key.

“Rude!” you yell out after him.

He's back when you exit the shower

“Oh thank you, you say grabbing the plate form him”

“Just what the doctor ordered, hey?” he asks, smiling stupidly big.

“Ouuuf that that was bad truly apologize to me” He laughs at how serious your face gets “You're laughing? I had to listen to that joke and you're laughing?” you say through a mouthful of eggs. “Here's something that'll wipe that stupid smile off your face, snow stops which means we have to clear off my car.”

“Using the royal we are we?” he asks

“Think of it as repayment for the pun,” you say waving your fork in his face

“How will we be clearing it off?” he asks, leaning over the counter.

“Brush” you say, as if it's obvious

“Where's the brush?” he asks, resting his chin on the back of his hands and smiling sweetly at you, waiting for an answer.

“In the….oh” you say, face dropping when you realize that the brush was in the car currently buried under a snow pile.

“Not so smart now” he laughs pushing back off the counter taking your empty plate with him, washing it up for you.

“Well I guess we just have to get to the door with our hands then” you say smiling.

“Once again, about this we,” he says, drying his hands on the dish towel, turning to see a dramatic pout plastered across your face.

“Fine, I'll only help because I think you may disappear in the snow if you go in alone” he responds, the truth was, he couldn't deny you.

You both get dressed into the most winter proof clothes you had, neither of you having packed for a snowy expedition. As you exit the room you see him grab a pack of cigarettes he’d been hiding, not wanting you to see his worst traits.

“Those will kill you, you know,” you say, causing him to roll his eyes dramatically.

“Okay mom” he laughs grabbing the lighter despite your disapproving glare,

“You have a daughter to think about” you say, feeling like you'd be letting your profession down by giving up so easily.

“It's why I smoke, the safest way to calm the nerves while staying clean” he murmurs with a look on his face that is enough to get you to drop it for now. You weren't about to pry into his struggle with addiction and you certainly weren’t one to judge, you’d faced similar issues after your brothers passing.

“I used to smoke,” you confess as the elevator doors close in front of you both.

“Seriously?” he remarks, not able to believe it.

“Pack a week for about a year” you say, slowly nodding your head as the two of you walk through the foyer towards the parking lot.

“You quit?” He asks, impressed.

“Ya I don’t think it was long enough to form a habit. When did you start?” you offer as you move your legs through the snow, it was dense your legs would be sore tomorrow.

“What? Are you gonna assess the state of my lungs?” Frankie laughs, moving easily through the snow you were struggling so hard against.

“Yes, but i'll only tell you the results if you want to know”

“Few years back, after...” he stops himself before confessing the worst thing that ever happened in his life.

“The mission” you finish for him, remembering how Pope had picked up similar habits once he finally returned home. “You were there with Santi?” you question

“He told you about it?” he asks, sterner than you’d seen him before, he was afraid that you knew what a monster he was. You shake your head, no and he thanks the gods. “You think i'm going to?” He queries lighting up a cigarette and taking a drag, making sure not to blow it out anywhere near you.

“I don’t know, maybe. It’s the one thing he wont tell me about, figured it would be easier for you if you were talking to a stranger about it.”

“Not much of a stranger now” he laughs, but there was something behind his eyes, a similar sadness that you saw with Santi when he talked about it. Your thoughts are interrupted when something cold hits you in the face, your mouth drops open, your forehead scrunches in disbelief.

“Shit, I wasn’t aiming for your face I swear!” he looks up panicked

“I guess it's what I get for asking so many questions” you say, hand still over your face playing into it as you formulate your attack.

“No, oh my god! No! It wasn't because of that, let me see” he says, you let your hands drop and you smile wickedly up at him. Before he has time to react, you rub a handful of snow into his face.

“Oh... you're gonna pay for that.” he draws out, wiping the snow from his face.

After 15 minutes of all out war, and a brief truce that was to be officially signed once back inside you managed to get to the door handle and lean into the back seat grabbing out the brush. You offer it to Frankie, but he's already started clearing off the rest of the car with his arms.

“Hey can you grab my spare charger out of the compartment there?” you say cleaning off the trunk, the front doors now accessible.

“Ya, holy shit is this a knife?” he asks, pulling out a knife.

“Maybe.” You say staring into his eyes as his mouth hangs open in amusement. “For safety, I didn't know who I'd be driving up with! You coulda been a murderer” you explain palms up.

“And you were planning on what? shanking me?” he laughs a huge smile on his face, weirdly endeared by your thought process.

“Only if I had to.” You say chuckling between shivers, the cold now seeping through your makeshift snowsuit hitting against the sweat you’d worked up.

“You want it?” He offers.

“No i'm good, thanks”

“Because you don’t think I'm a murderer or because you have another one hidden in the room already?” he laughs, but he stops when you tilt your head slightly and raise your eyebrows, averting your eyes.

“Wait, do I need this knife?” he calls as you trudge back through the snow.

You both change into less sweaty attire and you settle into the couch turning on to watch the latest forensic files rerun. You shiver as you sit down having caught a chill. Noticing you shaking, Frankie goes to the wardrobe and grabs down a spare blanket throwing one at you so it lands directly over your head. He laughs when he sees you slowly turn towards him beneath the blanket, like someone in a makeshift ghost costume.

“Excuse me!” you laugh

“Hey you should be thanking me, can't have you freezing to death.” he says, “Are you asleep under there?” he asks, when you don't respond

“I'm not a cat! I don't fall asleep when someone throws a blanket over me!” He's not paying attention to what he's doing and the bottle in his hand shatters against the counter, a shard slicing his hand open.

“Fucking shit.” you him sigh.

“Are you okay?” You ask maneuvering out from under your blankets to see Frankie in the kitchen, glass on the floor and blood coming down his arm.

“Wow you're out of my sight for 2 seconds and you maim yourself” you say laughing, stopping when you see the panicked look in his eye, the event evidently triggering something deep in his psyche. You quickly stand up and he goes to move towards you.

“No don't move Frankie, stay where you are.” you reassure softly, watching as his eyes lay into your own, his breathing calmer now “You're in socks, can't have you cutting your dancing feet” you say.

“You’ve heard of my dancing feet,” he says, grounding himself again.

“Only bad things” you say, throwing him a pair of shoes that he carefully puts on before moving toward the closet where the broom is “No come here, let me see your hand. The mess can wait, you're more important,” you stress leading him over to the couch and sitting him down.

“Wow, first time I'll be able to afford professional health care “ he jokes as you take his hands in your own.

“Ow” he says when you press down onto the hand to assess the damage.

“It's fine, not deep enough for stitches, should heal up on its own. I still want to clean it though, to stop any infection.” You return with a small bottle of over priced vodka opening it and dabbing some onto a cotton pad. He doesn't flinch when the alcohol cleans the wound and he watches as you bandage his hand up.

“You carry a med pack with you on every trip?” he queries, but you don’t hear him you’re too focused on wrapping his hand.

“There! good as new,” you say standing up and cleaning up the glass on the floor. “Hey did you bring a swimsuit?” you ask, dumping the glass into some newspaper that was left in the room.

“Why?” He asks.

“Answer the question Frankie” you say, folding the paper around the shards before placing it into the trash.

“Yes, you wanna go hang out at the pool with the fifty families stuck here?”

“Ya. You don't? Seriously this room is wildly expensive and has a huge jacuzzi tub, I'm getting in your welcome to join, but bathing suits are mandatory.” you offer.

“I was gonna get in fully clothed,” he offers, not missing a beat.

“Perfect even better”

As per usual he beats you to the punch and settles into the tub that was more akin to a hot tub than a bath, he wanted to get in first partially to annoy you and partially so his body wouldn’t be on full display, he wasn't as jacked as he once was and he’d become insecure about certain areas that he’d let go once his kid came along. He watches as you walk in and his eyes can't help but follow your figure around the room, a beautiful person behind a beautiful personality, he thanks the universe for placing him into your orbit.

“That why they call you catfish?” you ask drawing him from his daydream back into an equally pleasing reality.

“What?” he responds, blushing at having been called out on his gawking.

“Cause your mouth hangs open like a fish out of water when you're zoned out” you smirk, lowering yourself down into the tub.

“Rude” he says splashing after you settle in.

“Alright, Frankie, what is it?” you ask, causing his face to look up to you “what's your deal, apart from smoking? You gotta have flaws”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” he charms

“Sinister” you laugh, but he doesn't, you reach your foot up tapping his cheek with it,

“Disgusting,” he chuckles, grabbing it and rubbing the arch before pushing it back into the water.

“God, I miss the ocean” you confess, “ I hate the city sometimes.”

“You’re not planning on staying in Chicago after you're done?”

“Nope, gonna get myself out to the coast, or at least somewhere without winters.” you say stretching your arms out across the tub. “How about you, are you planning on staying?”

“ Probably, no reason to leave, plus it's close to my mom so she can take care of Arianna when I'm at work, though I wouldn't be opposed to moving if the opportunity presented itself she's young enough that it wouldn’t be too hard.” he says, wanting you to know that if you asked, hed follow you anywhere.

“Arianna, beautiful name. Did you pick it?” you ask looking up when a few minutes of silence pass. As you do you notice that the somber look from early had returned. “You okay?” you ask.

“I don't deserve her, I don’t deserve something so good.” he states, suddenly realizing he didn’t deserve someone like you either. You wouldn’t be sitting in the tub with him if you knew what he’d done.

“Frankie that's not true” you reassure

“You don't know the shit I've done. I'm not... I'm not a good person,” he says, still not looking over to you.

“Well, I…” you begin to refute.

“Seriously, I've done bad things… awful things'' he clears his throat, afraid to look at you, afraid you’d be terrified by him.

“People make bad mistakes, but that doesn't make them irredeemable, not if they are willing to change. You understand what you did was bad, that says something.” you reassure, knowing the guilt was likely left over from the military.

“Well, wise words coming from someone who's never done anything bad”

“You don't know me that well Frankie, I’ve done my fair share of stupid things, crappy things to numb the pain. It's what we do to make up for those shitty actions that count. At every turn, you’ve shown me that you're not an evil person. Everything I’ve seen is good, and funny and incredibly kind.” you finish and you continue to nudge him with your foot until he finally cracks a smile.

“Well now you're smiling again, my missions complete and it's time for bed” you say stepping out of the tub and drying off, unaware that you’d just made Frankie fall even harder for you. His eyes helplessly following you as you leave the bathroom.

“Since I'm an outpatient, does that mean I get the good side of the bed?” he calls out after you. You roll your eyes but let him have it, you preferred the sleeping situation the way it was.

[mlqcconfessions]

MLQC Headcanons - “Are you jealous?”

Because Tumblr likes being a butt, the ask sent by nonny was DELETED before I could answer it! But I did manage to read the request in my notifications. Sorry to the anon if it’s a little different than what you had asked 

Characters: 4 Main Guys X MC

Prompt: Jealousy over someone getting a little too close to you

Warnings: FLUFF OVERLOAD

Victor

Your relationship with LFG’s CEO was still secret

Of course, you were the one who suggested the idea (he could care less what the press thinks, but didn’t want to compromise your privacy)

You’re actually kind of sad that he puts distance between you two during work (I know I said that, but even when we’re alone in his office?)

He makes it up by kissing you in the elevator (Goldman doesn’t understand why you’re standing so far away from Victor and honestly he doesn’t want to know)

After a few weeks of this “secret dating”, you’re so deprived of Victor that you’re less energetic

He notices this, obviously, and actually feels bad about it

Decides to bring some pudding along with him

He drives up to your company to pick you up, but notices you talking with someone (he lowers the window slightly to hear)

Doesn’t think much of it until he hears the guy asking for your number

And you willingly give it to him? 

“This idiot....!”

Victor gets out of his car and walks up to the two of you, hand on your back, and escorts you to the passenger seat (shoots a quick nod back at the guy)

You notice the small bag under your seat and open it, surprised by the small containers filled to the rim with pudding (you waste no time in opening one)

Unbelievable, do I have to ask her myself?

“I never realized you were this careless, MC” (you look up from your pudding)

“What do you mean?”

“Giving your number to a stranger like that? I knew you were a dummy, but to this extent?” (his eyes are fixed on yours as the light turns red)

“Well, he’s going to need his boss’ number, isn’t he? And plus if anything goes wrong with the projects, I’ll need to know” 

“....boss?” (Victor nearly misses the turn)

“Yeah, remember Minor? The newly hired one? I thought I told you already...” (your words drown out in his head as he pieces everything together)

“Wait, Victor...are you being jealous right now?” (he doesn’t like that your eyes are lighting up of all times for her to be observant)

He stops at another red light and leans over to lick the pudding off on your cheek (this guy!)

“So what if I am?”

Kiro

You had asked him if he could come for a segment on your show (modeling for some products)

You ask, he answers

Poor Savin has to clean up the mess after Kiro cancelled his ENTIRE schedule

“Miss Chips NEEDS me!” (if you weren’t Kiro’s girlfriend, Savin would’ve destroyed you)

In between shots he always appears at your side with snacks

“You need to be energized, MC!” (actually just needs an accomplice against Savin)

You’re amazed at the 180 difference of this sunshine when he’s with you vs. when he’s filming (he knows you’re amazed)

One of the cameramen calls you over to discuss the recent shots

The two of you discuss how to bring out the best in Kiro (he was fantastic as is, but there was a spark that just lacked)

He notices you slowly inching towards the cameraman, hands on the back of his chair (sunshine boy is pouty; why can’t you notice that your coworker clearly has interest in you?)

You ponder over how this shoot can be better, unaware that Kiro was staring at your every move

“Maybe someone else can be in the shot with him?” (you suggest, looking up to meet his radiating eyes)

“Great idea! MC, you do it!” (he gets up to grab your hand, and leads you to the front of the studio)

“No...I possibly can’t...”

Your arguments are useless as Kiro calls his team over to help you get prepared

3. HOURS. OF PREPARATIONS.

But you step out, beautifully dressed, catching the eyes of everyone in the room, including the very cameraman (this is NOT what Kiro wanted!)

He quickly pulls you towards him, “Trust me, MC” (stops to look at the cameraman before focusing on you)

He stages these elaborate poses to capture your best angles (Kiro, have you forgotten who this shoot is for?)

He sees that the cameraman is at a loss for words at your beauty (can’t blame him, but still)

For the last shot Kiro leans down and softly blows into your ear, causing you to profusely blush

He looks at the cameraman one last time before leaning down again to whisper

“Don’t be so cute in front of other guys, you’re making me jealous”

Lucien

He’s used to having students come up to him and flirting with him

Of course, it doesn’t faze him at all (but he does enjoy seeing your reactions when he flirts back)

Never thought the tides would turn against him

He sees another student walking up to you during lecture

“Is this seat taken?”

“No, go ahead!”

Lucien’s gaze lands on the student, his face flushed while pulling out the chair to sit next to you (......interesting, of all the seats?)

He looks around the room to find the tens of empty seats in the hall (you were oblivious to his advances that’s my girl)

He resumes the lecture with this in mind, his eyes occasionally darting to you

Obviously the student had no interests in the lesson, but just towards you

But you offer to lend your textbook to him, since he didn’t bring it (learning wasn’t his intentions, after all)

He leans closer to you as you push your hair behind your ears

Nothings gets past Lucien’s eyes (It’s the boyfriend radar in him)

“Mr. Smith, can you please explain the effects of rejection on the brain and its relations to physical pain?” (his lips curl to form a smile his eyes definitely weren’t smiling)

The student immediately understood the context, and scoots away from you in embarrassment “I...I don’t know, professor”

You glance back and forth between the student and Lucien, the latter having a look of satisfaction before continuing the lecture

“Jealousy is an unpredictable emotion. It can cause a person to become irrational and............dangerous”

The clock hits 5 PM, and the student darts out of the room as quickly as he came in

“Well, I suppose that’s the end of today’s lecture. Have a safe trip home, class”

You pack your stuff to leave when he calls your name

“Ah, Miss MC? Please stay for a bit. I need to talk to you about......preventing misunderstandings”

He locks the door

You don’t get out until 7

Gavin

Your frequent visits to the STF headquarters make yourself famous within the other evol agents

Everyone eyes the two of you as you drop off his lunch

You actually enjoy this situation very much (make his lunches EXTRA cute on purpose He blushes everytime he opens the box)

He is called in by one of the mission leaders to discuss their next plans

He squeezes your hand before heading over to a conference room

You stare at his deliciously chiseled back, unaware that Eli has appeared behind you

Ever since your first meeting with Eli, the two of you have grown considerably close (all you talk about is Gavin, after all)

He often updates you about Birdcop: what he's doing on missions, if he's well, if he got hurt (actually undermines any injuries he sustained during battle)

Eli knows how scary you can get

In return, you tell him about Gavin's cute moments

Like when he got drunk a few nights back and got jealous because you took a selfie with Sparky AND NOT WITH HIM (Eli adds this to his "How to Make Fun of B-7" list)

"I love him more than you do, MC"

"No Eli, he's MY boyfriend!"

The two of you, in your own world, laugh away as the argument over who gets custody of Gavin heats up

Meanwhile, Gavin notices the two of you through the one-way mirror in the conference room

You're laughing? Laughing the dorky, adorable giggle you only showed me? To Eli?

He's unable to focus for the rest of the meeting

He wants to storm out of the room and separate the two of you, but he knows his limits (he doesn't want you to see him acting so unprofessionally)

As soon as the meeting is adjourned Birdcop literally FLIES out the door and hides you behind his back

You're slightly annoyed because your "Things Gavin Says in His Sleep" discussion with Eli was interrupted

Then you realize the small barrier of wind blocking Eli from coming close

“Gavin...are you jealous?”

That was the first time Eli saw Agent B-7 flushed from head to toes (he secretly took a picture, and later showed it to the other agents)

We all love a good fluff

Whose imagine did you enjoy the most? For this post, I honestly can’t choose XD

[pl-panda]

To Marry a Vigialnte: Part 16

MASTERLIST || First || Previous || Next

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 16

-----------

Chloé couldn’t believe it! They forced her to stay in Gotham Academy’s girls’ dorms. That witch Lila managed to talk Madame Bustier into stopping her from leaving. Marinette had her mother’s permission to stay elsewhere, but apparently, the change in accommodation plans invalidated Chloé’s father’s permission. She would resolve it with a single phone call if someone didn’t steal her phone . She of course tried to report it to Madame Bustier, but her teacher declared that she must’ve lost it somewhere and she shouldn’t be shifting the blame on others. 

That woman’s picture should be in every dictionary, right next to the definition of a hypocrite.

She turned the corridor. She could sleep one evening there and tomorrow Marinette would let her borrow the phone. She could try with one of the girls, but it’s not like she remembered every phone number in existence! She regretted that the akuma attack ruined their plans for the afternoon, but Damian had sword-fighting practice tomorrow and she would have her friend all to herself. 

“You’re Chloé, right?” A blonde cheerleader asked. The Parisian immediately recognized her as Erica and narrowed her eyes. There were five of them and one of her. 

“And you’re the Queen B. of this school. For now .” 

The Gothamite princess had the guts to actually laugh. “You can’t even touch me. You’re just some foreign student that came here on a whim of the Ice Prince.”

“Oh, right. You’re the golden princess of this school.” Chloé mocked her. “Lemme tell you something, Erica. I’ll offer you an escape deal. You leave Damienette alone and you can keep your position on top.”

“Yeah. Like you could be a threat.” A new voice joined. From behind the cheerleaders, a new girl walked. Lila now wore the cheerleader uniform too. “You’re just a walking akuma factory. It’s really no wonder that people avoid you. You caused more possessions in Paris than everyone else combined.”

“And you hold the record for times being akumatized.” The Parisian blonde retorted. “Ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous! You think you can take the Chloé Bourgeois?”

“Oh! We don’t think…” Erica started.

“We know.” Lila finished. 

“The deal is simple. You will stop your friendship with Maribrat and we will let you keep some dignity.” 

“Or we will make you a social outcast. Not only at school, but in the whole of Gotham.”

Inside, Chloé was raging. She wished she could show them what Cass taught her, but she quelled the idea quickly. I definitely spend too much time with Sabine and the Waynes… She thought to herself. Instead, she grinned. “You know the difference between a threat and a warning?”

“What are you babbling about?” One of the cheerleaders snorted. 

“A warning is a threat that will actually come to pass. And I warn you. You’re messing with fire here. Damian was raised very old-fashioned. He will draw blood to defend the honor of his angel.” She decided that they could receive a warning. It’s not like they would listen. “And Marinette’s aunt is very well connected.” Then, she decided to drive the nail deeper. “Plus, MDC’s client list is quite long and none would appreciate that you try to bully their favorite designer.”

“Like that doormat…” Lila started, but Chloé tested the glare Cass taught her. It worked well enough. 

“You’re not dealing with Maribear. You’re dealing with me. And I’m not going to lose.” 

“What’s going on here?” Allegra walked toward them and stood next to Chloé. 

“Scatter.” Lila snapped at her. 

“Funny. I was about to say the same thing,” she retorted. Now she stood side by side with Chloé and both stared at them. Allegra had an aura of confidence around her. 

“Be careful who you stick with, Kane. You’ll do well not to antagonize me.”

“Just because your mother married a famous baseball player doesn’t make me respect you more, Boyle.” 

“It’s Layton ,”The angry cheerleader corrected. 

“Right. I must’ve forgotten. She does change her last name a lot…” Allegra smiled. 

“You’re in over your head, Kane. You’ll do better to stay with your little outcast club.”

“Nah. I’m good. Also, don’t you have practice in five minutes? I heard the coach is in a mood today.” The mayor’s daughter smirked. “It would be a shame if he made you run around with the players.” 

This made all the girls quickly scatter to get to the practice, leaving Lila and Erica alone. “You’ve just made an enemy, Kane.” 

“You’re an inconvenience at best…” She dismissed the threat. Lila decided to cut their losses and dragged the fuming Erica away, sending the two blondes a murderous glare.

“Thanks for the backup,” Chloé started. “Of course I didn’t need any, but still.”

“No problem. I always hated that self-appointed princess.” 

“And have you seen her hair?” The Parisian huffed. “Utterly Ridiculous!”

“And I’m pretty sure her dress is too short by the school standards.”

Chloé smirked. “I think we’ll get along just fine.”

-----------

After Bruce returned, they tried to figure out what was taken from the inside of the vault. Out of various precious weapons, documents, several property deeds, the only thing that was missing turned out to be the content of the wall safe. 

During the night patrol, Marinette and Damian scoured the city for potential akumas. While he dealt with criminals, she often stopped by the victims to calm them and gave some support. After serious butt-kicking for the criminals. It just wouldn’t do for Damian to get all the fun. The superhero/vigilante duo (nobody was sure which one, not even them) made a positive first impression on the city. Citizens seemed to like them, both for their efficiency and how they always stopped to talk. 

After, Marinette noted that their transformations could hold for much longer now since they were together in this. When asked, Tikki explained that now that she had Chat Noir that was mature and they were technically both adults as far as magic was concerned, she could start developing her full potential. 

After the short report to Alfred, the teens left the Batcave to change into pajamas. Marinette fell asleep almost immediately, but Damian stayed awake for a bit. He swore he would protect his Habibti. No matter how far he would have to go. 

-----------

Marinette and Damian had roughly half of their classes together. Sadly, she didn’t share too much with her best friend, since Chloé was more into business management than arts and fashion. It was mostly the problem of the level. Classes that Marinette had at beginner, the Parisian blonde had at a higher level and vice-versa.

When she arrived at her class, Claude and Jon were saving her a place between them, which would help to protect her from the classmates that ended in the same group. There were also several GA students that she would rather not sit close to (Erica’s bunch). Generally speaking, the first part of her day went well. 

The same couldn’t have been said about Damian. He, Chloé, and Allegra were saddled with the class. And to his utter dread, there were no free places next to each other. They tried to ask some students to move. Well, Damian tried to threaten them, which worked, but too late. The teacher entered and decided to put Damian between Alya and Lila. It was as if the universe was punishing him for something. He suspected that Mister Scarlet did that on purpose to egg him. With this one, he had no idea what he did to make him dislike the Wayne heir. But the way he acted toward him made it clear that he took pleasure in the situation Damian was put in: Between Alya’s nagging to leave Marinette and ‘return’ to Lila, and the Liar who kept whispering stories about their common past. 

Finally, after they got to go for lunch, Damian stormed out of the class. Everyone in the corridor made way for him. His scowl was enough to deter anyone from trying to approach him. Well, anyone but Maps.

“Damian! You’re back!” She leaped at him and it took all of his willpower not to draw a sword. 

“Tt. Mizoguchi. It’s not the best moment.” He growled. 

“But you’re back! Did the headmaster cancel your expulsion!?”

“No. He just forgot to file the expulsion files within the week of the offense. Ergo, I was never expelled. I just joined the exchange program.” He explained. 

Her eyes practically shined. “Coooool.” 

“Tt. Can you let go of my arm?” He was really hoping it would work. 

“Nope. I just met you again. We’re glued.” 

“Sup Dames?” Claude chose that moment to appear.

“Tt. I’ve got a parasite.”

“That I can see!” The other boy laughed. Most people were still steering clear from Wayne and whoever was with him. They valued their health for the most part. 

“I’m not a parasite. I’m Maps!” The girl greeted Claude, who in turn made an exaggerated bow. 

“And I’m Claudius Chase. But please call me Claude.” He made a mock fighting stance. “Like Jean-Claude Van Damme.” 

“More like Jack Clown van Lame,” Damian muttered. “Your stance is all wrong. I could take you out in seconds.”

“Of course you could. You’re b…” The Wayne heir covered her mouth with his hand. 

“Tt. Not here. Now if you would let go of my hand, you parasite, I’m sure Habibti is waiting for me.” 

“Habibti?” She asked after letting go.

“His girlfriend.”

You could actually see Maps’ eyes form into twin stars. “Can I meet her? Can I meet her?”

“Since when are you into fashion?”

“Huh? Who said anything about fashion. She’s your girlfriend though, which means she must be sooo cooool!” Maps was practically vibrating. 

“Hero worship much?” Claude joked.

“Tt. Fine. Let’s go.”

The three arrived at the Cafeteria, where Allegra, Chloé, Jon, and Felix were already eating. They had lasagna that day. Quite a lot of people were whispering when Damian appeared, more so than usual, but nobody dared to look at him. When he sat at the table next to Marinette, they did their best not to stare.

“Grumpy Cat?” She asked, a bit worried. “You’re… tense.” 

“Tt. Because of that socially-inept, talentless, petty bookworm,” he seethed, “I had to sit between Rossi and Cesaire.” 

Immediately, Marinette pulled him into a tight hug. “Oh, my poor Kitty.”

This caused some of the gathered, who knew Damian from the previous year, to immediately tense. Some of the students sitting nearby (mostly females) even grinned, thinking that here died the relationship. There was no way that Ice Prince would allow anyone to refer to him as Kitty. Getting him on the first-name basis was considered a privilege allowed only to the family (and strangely Claude). 

To their immeasurable surprise, Damian didn’t explode. Instead, he melted slightly into the hug and some of the anger left him. It wasn’t a long hug, but after it, he was now acting less like a walking grenade looking for its pin. At least three people awwed at them. It was just too pure.

“Whoah!” And then there was Maps, who had the subtlety of a steam-train speeding through the Wild West. “You’re so cute together!” She zoomed next to Marinette to get a better look.

“And you’re…” Marinette eyed the overly energetic girl. She was short, with hair that reached barely below her ears. 

“Mia Mizoguchi. But you can call me Maps. I’m Damian’s friend.” 

“Tt. More like a stray.”

“Damian! Don’t be a Grumpy Cat.”

“Besides, isn’t collecting strays kinda a Wayne Tradition at this point.” Felix deadpanned. Everyone started laughing. Damian gave a dignified smirk. The blond proved to be able to match him in intellectual discussion, which gave some basis for mutual respect between them. 

The group talked a bit more about their classes. Marinette and Chloé compared every detail of their experience in the States with what it was like back in Paris. Maps was a fountain of questions, even if some of them were a bit… strange. But Marinette still felt she would like the little girl. That she was in the same class as her surprised her. 

After lunch came time for more classes. When they finished, Damian was supposed to stay for training while Marinette and Chloé would go shopping. They were already outside the gates when three rather packed teens from the year ahead stepped in their way. 

“You think you can steal Erica’s man and then threaten her?” The one in the middle asked. It was clear he was angry and not exactly thinking clearly. “Gotham Academy Grackles stay together. If you think you can just prance here and take over, you have another thing coming.”

“Um… Sure.” Mari just nodded. “Now excuse me while I go away.” She tried to move past them, but one decided to make a fatal mistake of trying to grab the front of her shirt. She raised her left arm under the grip, lifting his hand slightly. It exposed his stomach for the moment, which she took full advantage of and delivered a knee-kick to his liver. When he folded in half from the pain, as much as he could with her still supporting his hand, she then used her right arm to deliver a cutter toward the back of his head.

The boy was out cold in less than five seconds. 

Seeing their friend attacked, the other two charged at her. Marinette ducked under the punch from the first one and headbutted him in the stomach. She then wrapped her arms around his left legs and lifted him up. He fell on the ground and tripped the slower one. When they both were down, Marinette stomped on the hand of the one on top. There was an audible crack that signaled she managed to damage the bones. He would not be fighting. The one under tossed his pained friend away and jumped on his feet. He managed to get Marinette in a chokehold, but she pushed her arms between his extended arms and spread them apart. When he was exposed, she jumped up and kicked him with both legs. While she landed without any injury, the bigger player crashed into his two friends. 

“The police are on their way,” Chloé informed, putting away the phone that mysteriously found itself in her possession earlier that morning, giving more credence to the theory that she simply misplaced it. 

“What’s going on here!” A harsh voice boomed behind them. Hammerhead was standing there in all his glory. “To my office. All five.” 

“Maman’s going to be here in just five minutes,” Mari informed him. She was still full of adrenaline. 

“I don’t care.” He seethed in response. 

The only conscious boy helped his friends stand up. First the one with a broken hand, then they lifted the unconscious one together. They limped through the campus toward where the office was located. Behind them, Marinette and Chloé walked with heads held high. Tomorrow, the school would be full of gossip, but the bluenette was all too used to it by now and the blonde would run her PR magic to change it into something positive. Chloé loved playing the crowd. 

--------

“I’m here.” Sabine practically stormed inside the office. “Now could you explain, sir, what is it about?”

“Your daughter got into an… altercation with older students today. Right in front of the school.” Headmaster Hammer started.

“Ah. And you’re curious if we’ll be pressing charges?” The woman asked, cocking an eyebrow. 

“Charges?” She managed to baffle the man. 

“Attempted assault?”

“Madame. You misunderstood me. Your daughter…”

“Defended herself. Yes.” Sabine cut in, her eyes filled with cold fury. “Unless I’m mistaken, Self-defence is not a crime.”

“You can’t call self-defense stomping on…”

“To prevent further fighting? Debatable. She is smaller, physically weaker, and was outnumbered. A good lawyer would argue that it was necessary for her to act that way for her safety and to avoid further fighting.” She stared down at the headmaster. “As for the charges…”

At that, two officers walked in. Hammer recognized the first one as Renee Montoya. The other was a blonde officer wearing a tactical vest.

“Sorry, it took so long. We’ve been a little short-staffed since the mess with akumas started.”

“Don’t worry. Luckily, my daughter managed to defend herself. Now, officer, what must we do if we wish to press charges?” Sabine asked with a cold voice, never breaking eye-contact with the headmaster. 

“That…”

“I’ll explain everything while officer Sawyer takes the attackers into custody.” 

“Thank you so much.” The older woman finally broke the eye-contact and turned toward Montoya. She smiled with her usual peaceful smile, but the fire was still in her eyes. “My daughter is part of the exchange program while I’m visiting my niece.”

Marinette was stunned by how well her mother could take control of the situation. She wasn’t sure what precisely she was doing, but it was definitely effective. 

“Foreigners?” The officer asked, surprised. “I could hardly hear the accent. France?”

“Yes. Paris.” Sabine smiled. “Neither I nor any of my charges are really familiar with the procedures here.”

“I will walk you through it. Headmaster?” The policewoman finally acknowledged the elderly man in the room. “Were the parents of the culprits notified yet?”

“Not. Yet.” He muttered through clenched teeth.

“We will take it from here.” She smirked at the headmaster. “You will be notified if any further input is needed, sir.” She started to walk away and motioned for the three women to follow her. 

Outside, Damian was waiting with a sword. Luckily, there was no blood on it. Yet .

“Hello, Kitty. Don’t worry. I’ve managed it.” 

“Tt. I’ll still challenge them to an honor duel.” He scoffed. 

“You will probably have to wait a bit. I don’t think…” The officer took a glance at Sabine, who even with her smile looked like she was ready to fight God on equal footing. “They probably won’t be coming back to school this year.” 

“They won’t.” Chloé, Sabine, and Damian said at the same time. But they probably had different things in mind. Or maybe just Chloé…

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