#climbing class ily guys

[sargeantsarmy]

Bro I can sleep peacefully now.

[hheaven-sentt]

i'd be home with you

summary: this is where he finds he is safest | leon kennedy x gn!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: yearning, mentions of catholicism, intense softness, all comfort no hurt bb, first time L bomb, past trauma subtext, this one made me blush so there's a warning for that

notes: the wip as promised, posted when i should be in bed because i have class at nine am anyway ily | ao3

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

Leon pushes through the apartment door, light from the hallway streaming in behind him into the dark living room. He doesn’t reach for the light, just closes the door behind him to remedy his fault. He toes his shoes off next to the door. He spies you asleep on the couch, curled beneath more than a few blankets. He smiles tiredly. His feet really hurt, and there’s nothing he wouldn’t give just to rest beside you. But he only has tonight and the wee hours of the morning.

With a sigh, he trudges over to the couch where you snore. He hates to do it, but he nudges you awake. You groan.

“What time is it?” you ask, voice hoarse. You don’t even open your eyes to see who it is; you already know.

“Just past midnight,” he says. You sigh, stretching your arms out above your head. He watches you carefully, like you’re performing for him. “Come to bed,”

“What time do you have to leave?” you ask, finally opening your eyes to gaze at him. He smiles softly.

“Around six,” he says. 

You frown. “Wake me up when you get up to leave. I want to be able to see you go,”

He nods, then extends his hand to pull you free from the cushions on the couch. You silently protest for a moment, murmuring about how comfortable you are, but you eventually give in and let him haul you to your feet. You press a sleepy kiss to his cheek before walking around him toward the bedroom.

He follows you, because he would be stupid not to, and feels his bones loosen beneath his skin. You ooze comfort and simple pleasure. If he could take you with him everywhere, he would. He’s a selfish man when it comes to you; he wants to keep you beside him at all times, keep you hidden away in a place where only he can find you. He stares dreamily at you, watching you shuffle pillows and sheets as you prepare to slip between them for the night. You brush a few stray hairs from your eyes.

He’d gladly be sick for a hundred years if it were the disease you’ve given him. He smiles.

“What are you staring at?” you tease, grinning. He feels like he’s floating.

“Just admiring,” he says simply, softly, lovingly. You laugh and climb into bed. “Sometimes I feel like the luckiest guy in the world,”

You roll your eyes. “Quit being so sappy and come to bed,” you tease, reaching for the bedside lamp. He doesn’t deny you.

With as much speed as he can muster, he pulls his gear off. You watch him, hand hovering near the lamp. He’s clad in a pair of sweatpants in minutes, and finally, he joins you. It’s like coming home, getting into bed with you. It’s soft and gentle, he always knows what to expect. He tends to steal the blanket in the middle of the night and you respond by clinging to his shoulders like a backpack.

He’s staring at you again, he knows he is, but he would be a fool not to. You shut the lamp off finally, and you’re suddenly bathed in the moonlight streaming in through the windows. Your eyes reflect the light. This is where Leon finds he is safest. Beyond you, there is no Umbrella, no Raccoon City, nothing. He can only see you. He can only feel your fingers weaving between his, your lips against his cheek, your muttered words as you sink into the pillows. He never wants to leave, never wants to feel the ache of missing you ever again.

“How long will you be gone this time?” you ask quietly. He stiffens beneath you.

“A few weeks, probably,” he says. You sigh heavily. “But I’ll come home,”

“You better,” you say. He can feel your lips curl up into a small smile from where you rest against his bicep. It sends a shiver through him. “Who would keep me warm at night?”

He reaches over to pull you in closer, to stake some sort of claim upon you. “Nobody, I would hope,”

You laugh. “No one could replace you. You’re one of a kind,”

“You just like how I cook your eggs,” he mutters, but he’s smiling. He’s holding you steady against him, perfectly tucked into his side where you belong. At this moment, it feels like this will last forever, like morning will never come and he will never board a plane.

“That certainly is a plus,” you tease. He hums.

You’re asleep within minutes. He knows he will follow soon after, but he wants to hold onto the moment for a little bit longer. In this room, the world doesn’t exist. It’s just you and him. He wants it to be that way forever.

When he wakes, the sun is barely peeking over the horizon. He rolls out of your arms, tucking the duvet back into your side to keep you snug. His gear rolls back onto his body with little protest. The ache returns. Gently, he nudges you awake.

“Already?” you whisper. He fights a frown. “Don’t get lost out there,”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says.

You pull him in for a sleepy kiss, and that’s how he has to leave you. You turn onto your other side, facing the window where the birds are beginning to sing. He smooths a hand over your head before he turns out of the room. He leaves a little piece of his heart behind when he closes the front door behind him.

…

It’s week two in some European city he can’t pronounce, and Leon is full of aching. His muscles feel heavy, his head constantly hurts, and he wants nothing more than to sit in your presence for a few minutes. A few minutes is all he needs.

He remembers how his mother would drag him to church on Sundays, half the service memorized and etched into her heart. Leon was always rather bored with it, often counting how many people were in the room and then imagining how many it would take stacked on top of each other to lift him to the ceiling of the church. The only part of service he liked was communion–his midday snack, if you will. More than anything, he remembers the way the pews felt beneath him, sturdy and hard against his legs as he desperately tried to stay still for the service lest his mother send him another warning glance. It’s how he feels now, sitting in the helicopter on his way home to you. He itches to move, to have the flight conclude so he may rush home to you. But Hunnigan is throwing looks in his direction, looks that tell him that even when he touches down, he won’t be home until at least tomorrow.

A sigh escapes him. It’s been much too long since he’s missed someone, and the fact that he misses you like this, right here and now, is almost too much for him to bear. What are you doing? What time is it there? Have you showered and gone to bed? Are you making dinner? He wants nothing more than to lean against the counter and watch you cook, or sit on the bathroom counter while you shower because he can’t bear to be away from you for long, or ask you questions about the movie you’re watching because he didn’t see the beginning of it.

His longing for you is a foreign concept. He doesn’t understand what you do to him to make him think in terms of you. He passes his time planning the next time he’ll get to see you, often creating grandiose fantasies in his mind about where you’ll go and what you’ll do. Sometimes, he takes you away to a remote island and you live in paradise for the rest of time. Other times, he has a normal life with a normal job, and he can give you life you deserve; a house on a quiet street in a sleepy town, maybe a couple kids, family dinners, and bedtime stories. Sometimes, the thought makes him sick, the fact that he can’t give you a normal life. But he pushes it away with the memories of the way you look at him, and that quiets him for a while.

Finally, after hours of yearning and waiting, he’s standing outside of your door. Even after spending his formative years surrounded by God and altars and psalms, he is not sure Heaven exists. But if it does, it could not compare to the interior of your apartment. His key gets stuck in the lock when he tries to open the door, excitement coursing through him. You come to his aide, like always.

He’s home earlier than he expected, honestly. It’s just past nine in the evening. You’re clad in an old pair of sweatpants and a shirt you stole from him. The sight of you makes him melt. He can barely allow himself to get his coat off before he’s pulling you into him, breathing you in like he’s been lost for air. You laugh into his chest, returning his embrace, and he feels lighter than he has in a long time.

“Missed you,” he mumbles into your hair. It makes you laugh again. He wishes he could play the sound back from memory.

“Missed you, too,” you say. “There’s some lasagna left on the counter if you want it. I don’t know how warm it is, though,”

He grins widely, pulling away from you for a half a second just so he can pull you back in for a kiss. It’s long and languid, easy and careful. It’s warm. It’s loving. When you break, you’re blushing, staring at him like he’s acting strange.

“You alright?” you ask, searching his eyes for anything that might be out of place. He just grins again.

“More than,” he says. You laugh again. “Lasagna sounds amazing,”

You chat to him about your last couple of weeks while he struggles to dig the lasagna out of the pan and onto a plate. Apparently, the girl at work that you hate had gotten fired. Leon couldn’t remember her name if he had a gun to his head. But you seem excited that she’s gone, and so he is too. He microwaves his lasagna for too long and burns his hand on the plate when he goes to take it out. But you’re quick to soothe. As the hiss of pain leaves his lips, you’re dragging him to the sink to run cool water over his hand. You chastise him for touching the plate, telling him he needs to be more careful.

“I love you,” he says. You freeze in place, halting your fretting over him. Your eyes pull to his in an instant, searching to see if he’s telling the truth. He is.

“Do you mean that?” you ask. His lips pull into a thin line, fear beginning to creep up in a flesh on his neck. His mom always told him that was his biggest tell.

“I do,” he promises. Your apprehension eases away from your features. The water is still running, it’s the only sound between you two. You take a deep breath.

“I love you,” you return, smiling softly.

All the years spent going to church prepared him to recognize divinity when it was presented to him, and he sees it finally. It appears to him in the form of you and your laughter, your caring nature and your freckled skin, your birthmark and your crooked tooth. He kisses you again, the love fuel to his movements. You laugh against his lips, peeling his soggy hand away from your cheek. When he pulls away, your hair is smeared against your face from where he’s wet it, but you’re laughing.

Maybe he can’t give you the future you deserve, at least not yet, but he can give you now. He can give you himself, and for right now, that is enough for you both.

[sage-green-matcha]

WHAT WAS I MADE FOR? - ETHAN LANDRY ✨

“Cause I, I don't know how to feel. But I wanna try. I don't know how to feel, but someday I might” - Billie Eilish

Content includes: Reader with depression, Ethan Fluff! Ethan helping you heal! Angst ig?

A/n: I’m so excited for the Barbie movie! I rlly wanted to write something with Billies song, just because she means so much to me! My first fanfic ever was a Billie one, it was horrible! Anyways, to anyone who feels stuck or in a slump just know you’ll be okay. There’s people who love and appreciate you even if you don’t feel it. I’ll always be here if any of you guys wanna talk! My request box is always open! ILY guys sm 💛

<3

<3

<3

You felt horrible. You had fallen into a deep hole that you couldn't get out of. You didn't even attempt to try. You missed many classes, your friends becoming concerned for you. You didn’t know what to do with life anymore. It had all collapsed down on you, you just couldn’t take it anymore.

You didn’t know your purpose in life. You were mentally stuck and you didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t communicate your feelings because you didn’t understand them anymore.

You were happy, and you knew you could be happy again. You wanted to go back in time, fix everything and anything that went wrong. Just so you could save yourself from feeling this way.

Ethan Landry was the only one who could get you out of your slump. He knew exactly what to say, even if it didn’t always come out perfectly. “It’s okay…to feel like that. I mean you don’t always have to be perfect, Y/n. We love you for you” his shirt would soak up your tears, keeping you company as you cried. You felt safe with him. He didn’t judge or ignore you. He actually listened and gave his opinion on things. He was helping you heal and you didn’t know how. It was just Ethan being his usual self that helped you.

“Wanna go out on a drive?” Ethan stood at your room door with keys in hand, a baggy of your favorite snacks in the other. “Yea” your smile was brittle but it was still for him, and it made him melt every time you showed it.

“How’d you feel today?” You played with the strings of your hoodie, head laid back on the car seat. “Okay, I think? Sam and Tara were fighting all day, which made me annoyed. And then I was sad I think, or frustrated because they literally wouldn’t shut up” he was amazed at how trusting you were with him. You vocalized your feelings way better than before.

“I think I forgot how to be happy” a small frown was on your face, heavy bags under your eyes from lack of sleep. Ethan looked at you with concern, closing his laptop so all attention would be on you. “You can talk to me about whatever, okay…? I understand how you feel. I’ve been there before Y/n. It’s not easy to get out of but you can do it. I know you can” his words made you melt, providing comfort and warmth with each one.

You told him everything about yourself, he collected all the information and stored it in his heart. “Why were they fighting? I’m assuming Tara’s therapy?” “Mhm, she’s been acting different” you mumbled, your arm holding up your head as you looked out the window. The air blew through your hair, the warm New York air bringing you comfort.

“Can I take you somewhere?” You could tell he was nervous when he asked you. “Depends on where you’re taking me” “You’ll see” Next thing you knew he had you climbing up some sort of small mountain, taking a look at your surroundings once you got to the top. “The Hollywood sign? Real original, Landry” he smiled as you teased him, sitting down on the dead grass below.

“I like it up here. You can see everything” Your head rested on his shoulder, Ethan placing his jacket around you. He was blushing as you looked up at him, a thankful expression on your face. “How long have you been coming here for?” “Maybe a year now, since we started talking” Your curiosity got the best of you, having to ask why.

“I needed to like…I guess remember you. How pretty you are and…uh, stuff” You held back a giggle, watching as he stumbled over his words. “Cause you know! The view from here is so pretty…it’s pretty. Like you” he cleared his throat, thankful that the lights were off. If they were on you would’ve been able to see his red face, embarrassed at what he has just told you.

You found it so cute, pushing yourself closer to him, his arm gently wrapping around your waist. “Thanks, Eth, for everything. You’ve helped me so much…I” you held back on your words. You knew it was weird, to confess your love to him. Especially now, you had found someone who understood every part of you and you didn’t wanna risk getting that taken away.

“You…you what?” He gulped and you shook your head, trying to avoid the question. “Oh come on Y/n, you have to tell me now” “I can’t, it’s weird” he knew nothing you could say was weird. Even if it was a little, he would still validate you with his opinion.

“Just tell me” You shook your head, hiding your smile in his chest. “Okay, how about this? I’ll tell you something first?” “Okay, but it’s probably not as weird as my thing” he scoffed, his nose taking in the soft scent of your shampoo.

The silence killed you, even if it wasn’t an uncomfortable one. Your heart pounded harder with each second that went by, hoping it was the same thing you wanted to say. “I love you, Y/n. I know I do” his eyes were closed tightly, looking at him in amusement.

"You do?" "Yea, I'm sorry" A scoff fell from your lips, pulling him by his collar down to yours. He followed your rhythm, lips latching on perfectly to each other. He tasted so sweet, and gentle. like his personality.

"I love you too" he scanned your face with a smile, grabbing your jaw gently before taking you in for another kiss. "How do you feel now?" you bit back your lip, holding a smile. "I'm happy Eth, you make me happy"

“Think I forgot, how to be happy. Something I’m not, but something I can be. Something I wait for, what was I made for?” - Billie Eilish <33

[spaceagebachelormann]

im back hehehehehe could i get some headcanons of like. dating mischa. or ricky- either one- i <3 them sm

dating mischa and ricky

pairings: ricky potts x gn reader, mischa bachinski x gn reader

warnings: mentions of the rollercoaster disaster

a/n: i’ll give you both because ily liz <3

masterlist

Ricky Potts

okay so

UHHHH

he’s really sweet!!

100% randomly comes to your house and signs something like “wanna go stargazing”

you WILL say yes.

when you’re stargazing he doesn’t actually look at the other stars, because his star is beside him <3

you best believe his cats love you

they love you more than they love him

sometimes they just walk straight past him to get to you <3

i like to think he has a thing for noses, so when he’s close enough he’ll just lean in and kiss it so gently <33 or poke it

i feel like he gets tired really easily and stays up until like 3am

and because he loves you and he feels comfortable with you he leans his head on your shoulder and falls asleep!!

during the cyclone disaster, my man was holding your hand so hard and trying to keep you (and himself) from falling out of the cart

long story short it didn’t work and you fell together

back to the sweet stuff!!

you know all of the zolar lore and characters and give him stickers for his crutches

between classes he runs (runs??? he gets to you as quickly as he can with his crutches) and hugs you so tight

calls you the most random things ever

turkey-chicken-leg, monkey-love-drop (ofc <3)

im sorry but he would have called you kitten at one point. joke or not he 100% would have once. someone had to say it

i do think he’d call you love though

he loves you!! so much!!

penny aka his bestie has had to listen to him talk about you for hours

he’s very clingy!! constantly touching you in some way or is always near you

lightly hits you with his crutches when you say something outta pocket or questionable

your parent(s) LOVE him

he has that “anything for you love! <3” mentality and your parent(s) can tell this!! they know hed do anything for you and it’s why they love him!!

omg binge watching movies that take place in space with him <3

he gets so absorbed into the plots and points out every little thing

he’s so cute

will CRY (happily ofc) if you learn sign language for him

oh!! you’d also have a way to communicate from across the room if you can’t speak directly

like you’ll be visibly uncomfortable or tense and he’ll give you a concerned look or something to ask if he needs to come over there

i think he would be really protective, glaring at anyone who makes you uncomfortable and sometimes protectively putting a crutch or arm in front of you

incorrect quote!!:

Ricky: you want some leftovers?

Y/N: what are leftovers

Ricky: you’ve never had leftovers?

Y/N: no, im not a quitter

Mischa Bachinski

dear lord

the most overprotective soul ever

has body slammed ocean for looking at you weirdly…

will fight someone for you

just ask

also has that “anything for you love! <3” mentality but it’s more aggressive like “ANYTHING for you, love.”

oh he definitely uses you as an armrest

i like the idea of him and his s/o having a mean/nice dynamic

he’s mean to literally everyone except you

he’s also the type to put things on a shelf you can’t reach just so you have to ask him for help

sometimes he just picks you up in the middle of class and runs away while the teacher is screaming at you guys to come back

only listens to you

ocean: mischa no!! | mischa: mischa yes!! | y/n: mischa no | mischa: mischa no.

writes autotuned songs about you

okay but like imagine being his sweet sunshine s/o and one day someone pisses you off enough that you actually yell at them and he’s standing there with his jaw dropped and eyes widened

whispers over to noel “i love them.”

noel whispers back “i know.”

randomlt shows up at your house

if he can’t get in through the front door he scarily climbs through your window

SLEEPOVERS ARE A MUST!!

secretly the little spoon when you cuddle during sleepovers but don’t tell anyone

smiles into your neck, but pretends he doesn’t even though he knows you can feel it <3

it someone talks smack about you

well….

they mysteriously disappear that night

and when they come back they don’t even look in your direction again

he’s actually very sweet with you!!

holding your hand, cupping your face, whispering sweet little nothings in your ear <3

brings you alcohol on your birthday…

incorrect quote:

Mischa: *kicks the door down looking panicked*

Y/N: what did you do?

Mischa: nobody died

Y/N: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT???

[spicywhenspeaking]

If I'm There: Chapter Eight

read from part one!

Noah and Natalie meet in high school and developed a relationship through their love of music and art. Falling in love, innocent and young, they think nothing can keep them apart. However, sometimes in the pursuit of your dreams, the things you love the most get left behind.....

Warnings: mentions of alcohol use, mentions underage drinking, absent parents

“Hey Ky, I thought you were staying with dad?” I ask hesitantly not wanting to provoke his anger that I’ve grown so accustomed to. “I wanted to finish school in person. It doenst matter, dads place sucked anyway.” His smile falls and his shoulders tense. “Oh okay, well I’m gonna go back to my room.” I shuffle out awkwardly. “Okay, later.”

Natalie: so kyle is back…said dads place sucked. Wtf! 8:45pm

Noah: WHAT?! -_- your dad didn’t even call first? 8:47

Natalie: probably called my mom, but I have talked to her in a few days. She was passed out on the couch this morning. 8:47

Natalie: looks like she had a bottle of wine for dinner…or is it considered breakfast if you have it at 6am? 8:47

Noah: yikes. I’m sorry Nat. 8:48

Noah: did he say anything else? 8:48

Natalie: no, just started acting all defensive so I dropped it. 8:49

Noah: hm..think something happened with you dad? 8:50

Natalie: with Kyle? Probably. 8:51

Natalie: I’m just going to do my best to ignore him, and maybe we move movie night to your place lol. 8:52

Noah: lol of course, and you’re obviously welcome here anytime. I’ll come and pick you up anytime just say the word. 8:52

Natalie: my hero :) <3 ily

Noah: ily :)

We text back and for the rest of the night until I pass out on my bed. 

The next day Noah picks me up in the late afternoon so we can go to one of his shows together. Nick is in the back seat when I climb in the car. Greeting them both we drive off towards the venue they’re playing at for the night. Noah’s band has really picked up traction. He's put together a four member group of guys he’s found at other gigs, Nick is playing guitar and they have another guy Julius on drums and Mikey on Bass. They’re older and I don’t talk to them much. They’ve been asked to play in more bars and even some small venues. I can’t make all of them because of work but I try to go to as many as I can. It’s new territory for me. I’ve been to a lot of his shows over the summer but they're getting bigger and the crowd is rowdy. I have to stick to the back to not get overwhelmed but I’m happy to be there supporting Noah. 

The school year starts off strong. After a few weeks I’m managing my class work and work at the coffee shop pretty well. My AP classes are challenging but not impossible. Maggie from work is in my AP Econ class and it’s nice to have someone to study with. Sometimes Noah comes to surprise me at work. He'll order a drink and flirt with me the whole time I’m making it just to see how red he can make my face; those days he will wait until I’m off so he can drive me home. We’ll make out in the car until I have toI pry myself out before it gets too late. Noah and Kyle aren’t best friends by any means. They do their best to ignore each other in school and when Noah is picking me up or dropping me off but, that doesn’t stop him from making random comments here and there. 

“You came in pretty late last night, Noah hoping you flunk out completely and follow him around forever?” Kyle snips one morning as I’m making myself a bowl of cereal before catching the bus. “Since when is it your job to keep tabs on my comings and goings?” I say back to him “you don’t ever get any shit from me when you show up wasted on a school night. You know why?” I question. “Because I’m not mom or dad and neither are you, I can look out for myself just fine. But thanks for your concern” my voice is dripping with sarcasm. “Just be careful sis, he’s clearly more concerned with his own rockstar future than yours. Don’t throw your life away for some guy.” He finishes and I can almost hear genuine care in his voice. “You’ll end up just like mom.” With that I tense, my bowl of cereal placed down with more force than necessary, sending milk and Cheerios spilling over the side. “I am nothing like her.” I grab my backpack and sling it over my shoulder. “And I never will be.” I exit the house without looking back at Kyle and slam the door, heading for the bus. 

Noah has a Thursday night show out of town and is all but begging me to go “I can’t Noah, I wish I could but I have an Econ test Friday and a science project due” I sigh, knowing I’m letting him down. “This show is huge baby. There’s going to be a lot of people there that could really help me.” He’s holding my hand’s against his chest and I can feel his rapid heartbeat. “Having you there would mean everything to me. I promise I’ll get you home right after the show, you’ll be in bed sleeping, fully rested for your test.” He says with the sweetest smile. “I need my Natalie with me” he kisses me and my defense melt “okayyy, okay, I’ll go,” I concede. 

“Yes!” He picks me up triumphantly and spins me around making us both laugh “thank you Natty” he squeezes me in a hug “ugh I love you so much” I return his hug and sigh like a love sick fool “I love you too”. 

Thursday night rolls around and while I have last period free, Noah and Nick skip their last class so they can meet Julius and Mikey to make sound check. The venue is a little over an hour away and we make it there by 4:30 just minutes before he needs to be on for sound check. The night goes on without a hitch; Noah and Nick meet a lot of people and seem to make a lot of connections but time is slipping away. Suddenly it’s 11:30pm and I cant find either of them anywhere. I’m searching the dark and smokey venue and can’t see Noah’s towering figure anywhere. Quickly becoming overwhelmed with all the drunken patrons bumping into me, I decide to go wait outside on the curb for them to finish up. I take out my phone and text Noah that I’m waiting outside so they can find me when they’re done. Finally they finish up and I notice it’s already 12:20am. The car unlocks and I take a deep breath as I climb in, exhausted from the night.

I’m used to being fast asleep on a school night by this hour, so I’m having a hard time staying awake as Noah excitedly recounts the night “Natty, that was amazing I can’t believe it, we played so well. I think that guy from Nashville is going to offer us some recording space! Isn’t that awesome?!” I can barely keep my eyes open, let alone muster the energy to respond. I let out a soft “mmhm” in reply. “I’m sorry baby, I’ll get you home soon. Just close your eyes and we’ll be there before you know it.” 

There’s a massive pileup on the way home and with the sounds of the sirens mixed with the lights shining I don’t sleep at all. When we finally make it back to my house it's nearly 3am. I just about fall out of the car before Noah is able to throw it in park. As I open my door, he goes to exit with me, exasperatedly I turn back and tell him, “Don’t worry about it. I’m going straight to bed.” If I had the energy I would have slammed the door. He exits anyway and races after me apologizing “I’m sorry Natty, I know I said it wouldn't be late.” I stop before opening the front door and look at him with exhausted eyes “I know you didnt mean too Noah. Look, I’m too tired for this.” I sigh. “I just want to go sleep for the few hours I have left before my alarm goes off.” I open the door and stand in the doorway “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I say to him, sleep the only thing on my mind. “Okay, love you Natty.” he responds and leans to press a kiss to the top of my head. “Mmhm, love you” I tell him, closing the door and locking it. I head upstairs and crash onto my bed, asleep instantly.

When I wake up the next morning I turn over in bed and look at my alarm clock. “OH FUCK!” I shriek. It’s 10am.

I missed my Econ exam.

page divider from here :)

Next chapter here!

xoxoxox love you guys thanks for reading!!

taglist : @lma1986 @cookiesupplier @notingridslurkaccount

[joheunsaram]

glitter and disquiet (jjk) - final

Part of the Sons of Midas Collab

Part 1 | Part 2 | Drabble

Summary- Poised to inherit Korea’s largest gaming company in a few months, the world looks at Jeon Jungkook as a symbol of envy. Why wouldn’t they? He has everything, riches, power, and according to the rumour mill, endless women. Little do they know that his father’s company is on the verge of downfall, he barely has respect of his employees, and regardless of the rumours, he’s just a virgin saving himself for true love.

word count -  17.6k

pairing- ceo!Jungkook x youtuber!Reader

rating- R

genre- angst, smut, fluff, chaebol!au

warnings- virgin!Jungkook, mentions of cheating, divorce, open relationships, descriptions of anxiety and panic attacks, car accident, hospitals, alcoholism, depression, vanilla smut including unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), lots and lots of crying and misunderstandings, Jungkook a lowkey asshole in this, Jungkooks also a big Dawson’s Creek fanboy (see his boat lol)

a.n- And we’re finally at the end of this story! It took a while but there were a lot of strings to tie in this story. I hope you enjoy the ending and that I did justice to this version of our overly-romantic jk.

A big warm thank you to @oftenderweapons @hobiandsprite  for beta reading this and helping me plan it out! ily guys you keep me sane and happy 💕

As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌

-

It’s a funny thing, trust. We give it away so easily, almost on the daily. We trust that drivers racing past us on a highway are capable enough not to crash into us. We trust that the high school student making our coffee wouldn’t tamper with it. We trust the coworkers we are paired with for a big project not to sabotage our efforts for a promotion. But most of all, we trust strangers we have only spent mere months with not to break our hearts.

You trusted Jungkook, laying naked in bed in a random room on that yacht, with a giddy smile on your face. You stared at the opulent ceiling, decorated with ornate designs carved into the pale oak. It was beautiful — a criss-cross of vines that overlapped each other, but regardless of the intricacies it was an odd optical illusion of sorts, leaving you a little uneasy. The vines seemed as if they were moving, the slight rocking of the river making it vividly overwhelming. 

Taking a deep breath you averted your gaze, burrowing into the sheets, suddenly cold. Perhaps it was sea sickness, but suddenly you felt a little anxious. You laid there for a while, waiting for Jungkook to return but when half an hour passed and his phone kept going to voicemail, you decided to change back into your dress. 

You bit your lip as you texted him while fixing your hair in the mirror attached to one of the walls near the door. As the minutes ticked by without a response, you felt worry settle in the pit of your stomach. Jungkook wasn’t someone who would abandon you like that, without a word — especially after the intimate moment you had just shared. 

Walking into the hallway, you decided to go look for your boyfriend. It felt odd thinking about him as your boyfriend. In fact, it felt odd thinking about Jungkook as anything other than the cold playboy from your class that you loved to bicker with. You couldn’t help the giddy smile on your face as a montage of your month together played in your head. They way he had gone from the reserved quiet man to the doting one who never shut up about the latest game he was playing. 

The party was still in full swing when you reached the deck, and when after a few rounds around the dance floor and bar you still hadn’t seen Jungkook, you felt your worry return. You didn’t even see his friends, and you couldn’t help the chill that climbed up your spine at the realization. Something had to be wrong.

Before you could dwell too much on worst case scenarios you heard your name being called. 

Hoseok stood behind you when you turned, face pale, hair dishevelled from running his fingers through it as he spoke in flurried words that were hard to understand. He seemed panicked, fidgeting with his tie as he loosened it in an attempt to breathe more easily.

“Hoseok, calm down. What’s wrong?” you asked, bracing your hands on his shoulders and breathing deeply, encouraging him to mimic your movements.

“Candy was in an accident. Jungkook too. Hospital. Let’s go.” His words were still rapid, but the moment you heard your boyfriend’s name you felt your heart drop, your ears ringing with static. 

You followed Hoseok to the water taxis, the two of you almost sprinting and thanking your luck that there was one already waiting. It was a quick drive to the hospital, with Hoseok breaking almost every single traffic law to arrive faster while you sat, willing your heart to slow down. He couldn’t leave you. Not after a month. Not after just asking you to be his girlfriend.

You tried not to tear up, but Hoseok was mute from the moment he started driving, jaw set and a hand playing with his ear for comfort. He never elaborated on either person’s condition, and all you could think of was how fleeting everything seemed. You thought of Jungkook on top of you, leaning on his forearm as he nuzzled your nose with his, his eyes shining brightly, cheeks blushed as he asked you to be his girlfriend. Of his stupid wink as he told you to stay naked that you rolled your eyes at. The more the scene looped in your head, the harder the lump in your throat became, heart pounding. Don’t be negative. He’s fine. He’s going to be absolutely fine.

You repeated the mantra, forcing your eyes to remain dry, as Hoseok and you raced through the doors of the hospital. The same one where you had kept Jungkook company as he stayed with his mother. You held back the tears, all through Hoseok’s questioning of the head nurse on duty. Held them back while she informed the two of you of how they had been t-boned on the highway into the city, how Candy was rushed into surgery, and how Jungkook was still getting his MRIs done. You even held them back when the nurse directed you to a private waiting room, an empty room with a few tables and couches, snacks and a large television. A television that was displaying a news report about the accident. 

Candy and Jungkook’s photographs covered the screen, the reporter informing the audience of how their condition was unknown. When the scene changed to show the wreckage, it was the last straw. A loud sob escaped your throat as you watched a black Mercedes almost flattened from the side, glass glittering on the asphalt as the truck that had hit them looked almost unscathed in comparison.

You clutched your mouth as the television became blurry behind your tears. Next to you, you could hear Hoseok’s breath catch as he scrambled for the remote to turn off the gore. The silence was deafening, only broken by your anguished cries. 

You didn’t realize you were kneeling till Hoseok joined you on the floor, pulling your body into his in a tight embrace. The rocking of your bodies seemed almost automatic, and amidst the panic you wondered why humans rocked themselves for comfort. It was soothing, burying your face in Hoseok’s chest as you tried to convince each other that the people you had given your hearts to were going to be safe. 

It might have been minutes or hours, you didn’t know, all you knew was that your tears had run dry, their existence now painted onto Hoseok’s shirt and your puffy eyes. Walking to the table with snacks, you made two coffees, handing one to Hoseok who still had tears running down his face. He took it, making no effort to take a sip as his fingers drummed on the table.

“I think it’s my fault,” Hoseok said quietly after a moment, his face hallowed in realization as he looked at you with wide eyes.

“Don’t say that,” you chastised, holding his hand. He squeezed back, explaining that he had been calling and messaging Candy nonstop, that she probably got distracted. He seemed to be talking himself into another panic, but you held both of his hands trying to distract him from his overthinking.

“They are going to be okay, Hoseok,” you said, voice more stable and determined than you anticipated. “Repeat after me, they are going to be okay.”

You waited for him to clear his throat before he repeated your mantra, voice waterlogged. He followed your instructions a few times, before prying his hands from yours and running them through his hair in frustration.

“I love her, Y/N. I don’t know what I’m going to do… if…” He trailed off, face scrunched in an effort to control his sobs.

“They are going to be okay,” you repeated, no other words bringing you comfort in the moment. Hoseok was practically a stranger, but you wanted to help him. You let him bury his head in your neck, returning the favour, as the two of you sat at the table, waiting for some news - any news.

Much more put together than you were earlier, you comforted Hoseok with optimistic words, even though your chest was aching with uncertainty. When the door opened you both jumped, hoping for a nurse with an update, but it was only Seokjin and Yoongi, walking in with equally worried expressions. Expressions that turned cold once they landed on you.

“No. What the fuck is she doing here?” Yoongi sneered, almost stomping over to where you were sitting, eyes boring into a confused Hoseok. When Hoseok didn’t reply in the thirty seconds Yoongi had patience for, he turned to you, his gaze making you feel the smallest you had ever felt.

“Get. Out.” He gritted. You didn’t understand where this malice was coming from, all you wanted was to wait for news about Jungkook. Regardless of how intimidating Yoongi was, you were not leaving without seeing your boyfriend.

“No,” you replied, matching his icy tone. You stood up, crossing your arms in defiance as you continued to stare down the man in front of you. Although you were sure on the outside you seemed collected, calm even, inside you were terrified. You were scared for Jungkook, and you were scared of the powerful men in the room who seemed to suddenly have it out for you. 

Unlike Jungkook and his friends that celebrated birthdays on anchored yachts in the middle of the Han river, you had never even seen a yacht until that day. You didn’t grow up in fancy private schools, with luxury at your beck and call. You supported yourself through terrible part time jobs, from working in a convenience store to a disgusting factory just to scrape by until your hobby somehow paid off and you could pursue the graduate degree you wanted. You were older than everyone in your class, often looked down upon for being a ‘mature’ student, but you were proud. You were proud that your life had given you the strength to survive on your own two feet and to stand up to Yoongi at that moment. 

Walking away from the man towering over you, you sat on the other end of the room, claiming your right to be there for your boyfriend. Yoongi just laughed at that; a harsh, almost manic cackle, before leaving to call security. 

You still held your ground when two burly men arrived to escort you out, but despite your protests and pleas for at least an update on Jungkook’s condition, Yoongi won. He smirked at you as you left, while Seokjin and Hoseok stood back awkwardly, not meeting your eyes. It took everything in you not to break down, but you were not going to give them the satisfaction.

Your head hurt, heart even more so, when you finally reached the entrance of the hospital. You couldn’t believe the treatment Jungkook’s best friends had given you — a bitterness carving into your chest. Your only way of knowing if he was okay was through social media and the news.

You didn’t sleep that night, the inescapable image of the totalled Mercedes invading your thoughts, leaving your limbs heavy and your mind a wreck, till you had no choice but to return to the hospital.

----------

It was pretty fitting the way the rain fell upon the large windows, the droplets leaving trails that refracted the lights of passing cars into glimmers of rainbows before disappearing into nothing. Jungkook’s pinky twitched in his cast, and he finally understood why everyone made fun of him for his stupid theories. He rolled his eyes at his past self — he had been so naive. Soulmates weren’t real. They only appeared in myths and movies because they were fictional. 

The past eighteen hours had taught Jungkook that he was no longer that boy believing in fairytales and true love. In fact the past month had been nothing but a glaring reminder of how fictional love really was. From his parents to his closest friends, everyone was broken because they decided to chase it. Love wasn’t attainable, it was lore spun by people to fall into the comfort of another; to stave off loneliness. Love was a trap.

Well, Jungkook was no longer going to fall for it. Fuck love. All it did was put him in a state of complacency where he had not only left himself vulnerable, but his father’s legacy as well. He chuckled bitterly at the thought. He truly was a cliche of those noir films — the gullible victim of corporate espionage. 

He tapped at the glass, trying to see if it would affect the raindrops. It didn’t, much like how his anger and disdain for you did nothing to erase the way he still felt about you. He buried the feeling. It was useless to him now, after all.

The beep of Candy’s heart monitor rang through the empty ICU room and he made it his focus. When she had initially been brought back after her surgery, the room had been full of relief, but now it was eerily quiet, no one having the strength to talk anymore. It was oddly reminiscent of when his mother was laying in the same bed, and he loathed how, despite hating you, he missed how you calmed him, erasing his worst thoughts. He missed you. 

He could see the sun starting to rise over the skyscrapers that surrounded the hospital, the morning sun bleary behind the dark clouds that hid it from view, painting the landscape grey. He sniffled, twin tear tracks painting his cheeks as visions of you danced behind his eyelids. Jungkook felt weak. What did it say about him, when out of the two women he’d ever loved, one was fighting for her life after saving his, and the other had made him believe she was doing the same, only to destroy everything he believed in?

With an unnecessary excuse to the room, he left, hoping a cup of coffee would clear his thoughts. Of course his stupid card didn’t work in the vending machine. God, he felt like shit.

He adjusted his neck brace, walking towards the cafeteria, but the whiplash from the accident was nothing compared to the one he felt when he saw you in the main lobby, hands crossed in your lap as you stared seemingly at nothing. You were still wearing the same dress you wore to his birthday, and he had an instant urge to run down the two flights of stairs into your arms, to hold you tight. It was like a reflex, overwhelming but natural, and he was almost at the staircase before his mind caught up with him. He shook his head, ignoring the sudden shooting pain, and changed directions.

The sun was shining brightly through the large windows when he reached the cafeteria. The coffee was bitter, and when he contemplated texting you back, he came across the group chat where all his friends were talking of your betrayal. 

He locked his phone, and decided to wait in the cafeteria till Candy woke up.

----------

You sat in the lobby of the hospital for three days, hoping that someone would give you an update, but Jungkook was pretty much a celebrity and no one had an ounce of sympathy for you. Perhaps you were being excessive, but with all your messages and his phone always going to voicemail, you were hoping someone would let you know if he was at least alive. The news had forgotten the story in light of a celebrity dating scandal. The only reason you knew he was still there was because of the familiar faces that you would spy walking in during visiting hours and rushing to the elevator leading to the private wings.

One of those familiar faces was Jimin, the only one who noticed you sitting there. The frown on his face deepened when he reached you. Despite his cold posture, ramrod straight with a hand in his pocket, his face showed confusion.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in a hushed tone, as if he feared people questioning him if he were any louder.

“What do you think, Jimin?” You matched his tone, standing up, wanting to be as indifferent as he was, but your resolve lasted mere seconds before you were greedy for answers. “Is he okay?”

Jimin sighed, his face softening, before he placed a hand on your shoulder. 

“He’s fine, Y/N. Just a broken wrist and a little whiplash. He’s going to be okay.” He squeezed your shoulder reassuringly.

Although Jimin’s words were meant to be reassuring, they only confused you further. If Jungkook was okay, why were you left in the dark? Why hadn’t he reached out? As if on instinct, you reached for your phone, brows furrowed as you tried to see if you had somehow missed his messages. Before you could express your confusion, Jimin sensed it, demeanour changing instantly as he crossed his arms.

“He’s not going to message you,” he said plainly.

“What? But why?” you asked softly, your heart feeling as if it had lodged itself in your throat.

“You seriously think he’s going to want to be with someone who was using him?” Jimin sneered with an eye roll, and suddenly your mind cleared. You searched your name and Saga Games, devastated to find the press release. When you looked up from your phone, Jimin was walking away. 

“Wait! That’s not true!” 

You ran after him, desperately wanting to explain yourself, only to get ignored as the elevator doors closed in your face.

----------

“Next time you almost kill yourself, please don’t profess your love for me.” Jungkook said sarcastically as Candy giggled over her jello cup. Blankets were pooled around her waist, hiding the large cast on her leg from view. Her face was bright, as always, despite the large bruises on her face, and Jungkook thought she looked as beautiful as ever. He wondered why he had stopped loving her. It had been almost ten years since his little crush started, and he didn’t understand himself. How could he yell at his father for giving up on love, when he himself gave up on his first love?

“I did that to save you, you ungrateful brat,” she retorted with a roll of her eyes, and Jungkook couldn’t help but be endeared, his nose scrunching as he smiled widely. After roaming the halls of the hospital for days and sneaking glances at you, always sitting in the same spot, he had felt a heavy weight on his chest. It seemed that no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t face you. He wanted to confront you, but he was a coward. Wasn’t he always?

When Candy had finally awoken, he felt lighter, the relief easing his heartbreak a little. She had spent so long away from him, even when she had returned to Seoul, that finally having her back in his life felt like a ray of sunlight breaking through the dark expanse of a forest. Perhaps that’s why her little giggles and jokes were making him confused. 

She was barely even looking at him, her attention mostly on her phone as she continued listing things that she had done for him over their decade long friendship, and Jungkook felt stupid for letting her go. Why did he have to get over her and fall for you instead? If he could fall out of love with her, he could also fall back in love, right? Sure, she may be in love with Hoseok, but he could convince her otherwise, right?

Without another thought, he leaned forward, calling her name instead of the usual ‘noona’, and when she looked up at him, annoyed at his lack of respect, he couldn’t help himself. With a deep breath in, he closed the distance, molding his lips to hers. They were soft, lingering with the vanilla of her lip balm, but all he could feel was how they weren’t yours. 

He had been dreaming of kissing Candy since he was fifteen. He expected it to feel like the movies, fireworks and pounding hearts, but all he felt was unease, a hollowness that only reminded him of how different this kiss was from the ones he had shared with you. With you he felt as if he was floating, like if he didn’t have your touch his heart would gallop out of his chest, but with Candy it felt clinical, like he was rehearsing lines for a play that would never open. 

Despite his overthinking, the kiss was short lived; a quick meeting of their lips, and when he pulled away he couldn’t help how misty his eyes got. Nothing felt right. Would it ever feel right again? Perhaps you really were his soulmate, and it would make sense if he wasn’t yours. His life had been too easy, it would make sense that he couldn’t get everything he wanted. Perhaps he was meant to live in isolation — an island inhabited. 

“Bunny… what?” Candy asked, shock written all over her face, and Jungkook felt even sadder. Had he also ruined his relationship with his best friend? Why were you doing this to him?

He apologized quickly, and when her face softened in what looked akin to pity, he couldn’t help the way his tears fell. He hadn’t cried since the night of the accident, and now he couldn’t stop. She cradled him in her arms, consoling him and it only made him sob harder. He didn’t even know why he was sad anymore. He was supposed to be mad at you, angry that you used him only to get intel on his company, but he had never felt more distraught in his entire life. 

“Why didn’t it feel good?” he asked, his voice meek, betraying his inexperience and Candy sighed, her fingers running through his hair.

“Because you don’t love me like that, bunny. Sometimes… sometimes people are better as friends, and that’s okay. We’re okay, you know that right?”

“I shouldn’t miss her right? I shouldn’t love her,” he said, looking at her with tear filled eyes, and she smiled softly.

“It’s okay to miss her. It’s okay to feel what you’re feeling,” she reassured softly.

“Love is fucking stupid,” he lamented, leaning his head against her shoulder.

“That it is,” she chuckled. “Stupid, but worth it.”

Although he stayed silent, the ache in his heart disagreed. Perhaps if he saw you again, perhaps if you were sitting in the lobby like you had all those days, it would clear up the agony in his veins and treat his symptoms of heartbreak without curing the cause.

With just that thought rattling through him, he left his best friend’s embrace without a word, almost sprinting towards the lobby. He had hoped you’d still be there, but seeing you sitting in the uncomfortable plastic chair, half asleep, made his hands clammy with nerves. 

You were dressed in an oversized hoodie, your frame almost swallowed by the black material, and with your feet folded under you, you looked almost tiny, timid unlike the animal your nickname had originated from. He had never seen you look so frail. He was the one supposed to be recovering from an accident, but all he could see was your hair carelessly tied in a bun, your eyes weighed down by dark rings around them.

He had told himself that he only had to see you once, just look at you and his anger would be back, but it was like he was on autopilot, and soon he was standing in front of you softly calling your name. 

You jumped off the chair, unable to stop yourself from engulfing him in your arms. When you looked up at him, tears were streaming down your face, and when you cupped Jungkook’s face between your hands, he felt his heartbeat stutter, his hands mirroring your actions as if all on their own.

“You’re okay,” you whispered, as if in awe.

“I’m okay,” Jungkook answered, resisting the overwhelming urge to kiss you. Why did you look so sad? Why couldn’t you be cold and heartless like he had portrayed you in his head these past few days?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your sweater, something that made Jungkook want to do it for you instead. He wanted to make sure you were okay regardless of the fact that you had broken him. Instead, he stepped away from you, the distance feeling like miles instead of inches. 

“I don’t want to see you anymore, Y/N,” Jungkook replied with a heavy sigh. He had to be rational about this, he couldn’t let his rose-coloured glasses warp his view of reality. Not again.

“Is this about Saga?” 

“It’s about you lying to me and using me, Y/N,” Jungkook said coldly, and you couldn’t help the way your chest ached at his words. You never meant to hide this from him, in fact, the offer had pretty much slipped your mind. However, before you could reply, Jungkook was continuing, his words flurried.

“You lied to me. You made me think what we had was special — that it was something that mattered. But it never mattered, did it?” He scoffed, chuckling bitterly, before putting his hands on your shoulder. “I don’t need you. I don’t want you. Please leave,” he sighed before starting to walk away.

“But Jungkook, if you let me explain, I can fix us,” you started, almost sprinting after him to keep up with his pace.

“There is no us,” he replied, tone harsh and final. and you couldn’t help the way it cut deep within you. “I kissed Candy, by the way,” he added nonchalantly, despite knowing he was just trying to hurt you as much as you hurt him.

“That’s okay,” you said weakly, head downturned. You didn’t care who he kissed, as long as he gave you a chance to explain. You missed the way he faltered in his steps before continuing walking, too focused on the icy goodbye he tossed your way before he disappeared up the staircase.

You knew he was hurting, that you had unintentionally broken his trust, but you needed him to understand. You needed him back, because that month with Jungkook had probably been the best month of your life. You were never one to give up, and so standing in the lobby of the hospital, you decided just that. 

You were going to win Jeon Jungkook back.

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Y/N: how’s my fav ta? Aaron: im great! how’s my fav ex? Y/N: oppa we dated for two months in high school. please get over me. Aaron: the utter disrespect smh. what you want? Aaron: and no im not changing your grade a 94 is good enough! Y/N: you know i deserved a 98 on that paper Aaron: yeaaaaaah right. your paper was pedantic and superfluous Y/N: jeez… i get it you’re a ta Y/N: but that’s not what i want Y/N: pair up me and jungkook for the next assignment Aaron: eww i dont wanna play matchmaker Y/N: come on pleaseeeee! Aaron: what do i get in return? Y/N: anything! Aaron: shout me out in your stream Y/N: that is the stupidest thing ive ever heard Aaron: do it Aaron: and you gotta say aaron is the best champcon player of all time Y/N: … Y/N: sure whatever ill lie for you Aaron: hell yeah Aaron: consider me bribed Aaron: and do remind jungkook this is how you bribe not with a wad of cash in a stupid handshake Y/N: i still cant believe he did that to yuna Aaron: shes straight up scarred dude lol

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Jungkook hated being discharged from the hospital. He had delayed his stay but after one week, he was essentially kicked out. It had been almost a month since he had been home, and although he should be happy that he was back, he despised the silence. It left him alone with his thoughts for too long. What was worse was that he could no longer disappear into work. Work used to help him drown out any silly thoughts, it was a reprieve from his overactive mind, but now working on the game reminded him of you. 

As he coded the prototype, all he could see was your handwriting; the way you curved your c’s, and the way your w’s always had a little circle between them. It was stupid, but he could spend hours looking at your cursive — it was just so you, the letters engraved into the paper from your determined strokes, yet looking soft as if you wrote them down as an afterthought.

He groaned, tipping his head back, catching the attention of Namjoon’s puppy who took it as a sign to come nuzzle his legs. He couldn’t help the little smile that came over his lips and he picked up Gureum, letting him cuddle into him. The only bright thing about the past month had been Namjoon. For so long his hyung had been in this black hole of self-destruction that when he had asked to move in with him, Jungkook couldn’t open up his home fast enough. 

When Namjoon moved in two weeks ago, it was a little heartbreaking. He could see the deep sadness rooted in the older man’s eyes and Jungkook felt helpless. He didn’t know how he could comfort his friend without breaking down himself, so the conversations remained surface-level. Jungkook tried to show him love by throwing away all alcohol in his house and making sure Namjoon ate and exercised. Once he adopted Gureum, Namjoon seemed a little lighter, but every week when he returned from therapy, he could see how burdened his soul was. 

Jungkook sometimes saw him crying when he thought he wasn’t looking, silently wiping his tears as he stared out into the city, but he didn’t know how to make it better. What did Jungkook know about the depth of love Namjoon held for Princess, when all he had done was swim in the kiddie pool, too afraid to dive in, held back by his ideals. Maybe if he had more experience, it wouldn’t have hurt as much when you betrayed him and left him reeling. Perhaps it would hurt less. Maybe he should start being more adventurous, stop guarding his virginity like some trophy to present to his future wife.

And so Jungkook decided to download Tinder, trying to wrap his mind around the concept of one night stands. Even if he was terrible, he would never have to see that person again so there shouldn’t be any harm to venturing out. He had just set up his profile and was starting to swipe, when he involuntarily started imagining you doing the same. He hated it. What would he do if he came across your profile?

The thought sent chills down his spine as he tossed the phone to the side, groaning loudly yet again, startling a sleeping Gureum. 

 “Hey JK, want some food? I ordered pizza,” Namjoon said, walking into Jungkook’s bedroom, chuckling at his younger friend sprawled on the chair. He picked up the puppy from his lap, cooing at him, before asking Jungkook to come to the living room.

The smell of pepperoni and hot cheese permeated the room, making Jungkook’s stomach grumble as he sat on the couch, ready to devour. Dinner was fairly quiet, both men talking about their days. Namjoon had seen his therapist today, and although usually he was pretty guarded about what he shared during his sessions, he was forthcoming today.

“Eunho and I are working on a strategy,” Namjoon said, a little carefully, and Jungkook sat up at attention, swallowing his last bite. He felt honoured that his hyung was sharing something so personal with him. “Recognizing my patterns, you know, doing things that are terrible for me, to help me avoid dealing with things head on.”

Jungkook nodded, even though he didn’t understand the pointed stare Namjoon was giving him. His friend just shook his head, taking another bite before speaking, “Are there things that you do that are terrible for you?”

Jungkook looked at him, big eyes blinking in response. Deciding it would be better to share than let the novel conversation die out, he contributed. “Oh yeah totally. I tend to work a lot.”

“Yeah. I’ve noticed,” Namjoon said with an amused smile. “You haven’t left your room other than for work all of last week. Wanna talk about it?”

“Oh…” Jungkook said, realization dawning on him that Namjoon had just expertly got him to admit that he was avoiding something. With Namjoon’s recluse phase, Jungkook had almost forgotten how smart his friend was. Perhaps he could actually help him with his recent dilemma. 

“Well, hyung, now that you bring it up… Should I get laid?” Jungkook asked, a little hesitant and internally cringing at his own weird comment. Namjoon just chuckled, shaking his head.

“I mean… Do you want to get laid?” Namjoon asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe I can forget about Y/N if I sleep with someone else? Like, I should be free, y’know? I feel like I’m stuck and I don’t wanna love her anymore but I can’t help it!” Jungkook grew exceedingly frustrated as he spoke, Namjoon staring at him with raised eyebrows.

Namjoon sighed before speaking, “You know, Jungkook, you can sleep with everyone in the world and it wouldn’t make it hurt less. Trust me, I know.” 

He placed a hand on Jungkook’s knee, patting him slightly before standing up to clear the dishes while Jungkook contemplated his words. Namjoon was probably right. He had a few years of experience over him. But then again, shouldn’t Jungkook be free to make his own mistakes? To sleep around and find out for himself if it hurts less or not?

As Namjoon sat back down to play with the puppy, Jungkook unlocked his phone again. Swiping on Tinder seemed like a great way to forget about you all of a sudden.

----------

It turned out embarrassing yourself on stream by giving your TA a shout out wasn’t worth anything since Jungkook refused to correspond with you on anything other than emails — very well written, polite emails that were probably composed by his assistant. Jungkook was not only good at ghosting you over messages, but it seemed he had disappeared off the face of the planet. 

Citing his very publicized accident, he had taken a leave of absence from school, opting to finish the second half of his final semester from home, completing his assignments and only showing up for tests. The professors didn’t care much — he was almost at the top of your class — but you did. You hated that you were relegated from someone he wanted to see everyday to a mere email, a colleague. 

You were almost about to give up, forget all about the doe-eyed boy that brightened your life for a moment only to fade away like a momentary shooting star. You never expected to see him again, least of all here.

After over two months of dwelling over a one-day boyfriend, your friends had forced you to get out of your shell. Yugyeom’s party was supposed to be a reset, a way for you to let loose before letting go of Jungkook. A way to drink and maybe meet someone new to distract yourself. 

You had put in more effort than you usually would, breaking out your lace bustier and expensive jeans that you saved only for when you went to snobby clubs downtown. It was your get-laid outfit, highlighting your curves in a way that would make any straight man’s mouth water, and you were proud of the makeup that accompanied your all black outfit. You were feeling confident and, with the two shots you had downed in your apartment, you felt light. All of which came to a standstill the moment you walked in and saw Jungkook standing between a girl’s legs as she sat on the kitchen counter.

You hated how your heart dropped at the view. While he barely noticed you, the way his hands were gripping her hips and his lips caressed her jaw as he spoke would be forever etched in your mind. You had spent months trying to get in touch with him, crying over him, worrying over his health, but he seemed content in forgetting about you. You never thought a man would have reduced you to a shell of yourself, but Jeon Jungkook seemed to excel at everything — even breaking hearts.

Grabbing a bottle of tequila from the counter, you solidified your resolve to forget about the heartbreaker in the leather jacket, and focused on finding someone you could take home. If idealistic virgin Jungkook had no problem moving on from your short-lived romance, then why should you pay him any more mind? 

Fuck Jungkook, you thought as your eyes met those of the cute host from across the room. You were going to have fun. 

You took a big, burning sip straight from the bottle before making your way over to Yugyeom, missing the way Jungkook stared at your retreating figure.

----------

Jungkook really wanted to pay attention to his date. He really wanted to be the person Jimin had coached him to be while chatting to Jisoo over Tinder. It was going well so far. He was the epitome of the suave playboy that all the tabloids painted him as. He was calm and collected, not even batting an eyelash at how forward Jisoo got after the two of them had shared a few things. She was pulling at his shirt, kissing his neck, and Jungkook wasn’t scared of letting her down because he truly didn’t care if she thought he was good in bed or not. Why should he when he was never going to see her again?

But then he turned around.

And there you were giggling at some joke a guy was making, your arms around his neck as you sat in his lap. All he could do was watch the way his hands massaged your thigh and how you bit your lip in response, eyes half lidded. It was like watching a gruesome car crash, his stomach turning but his body frozen as you leaned into the dark haired man, pulling his lips to yours.

It was as if his legs moved on their own, marching him to where you sat. He didn’t know what came over him, he wasn’t usually one for confrontation, but suddenly he was pulling you up dragging you across the house, trying doors till he found one that was open. He hated that he was being this way, still pining for you when your actions had made it clear that he wasn’t anyone to you, but he blamed the tequila in his veins. Why else would his heart be leaping out of his chest at you scowling at him?

“What the fuck, Jeon?” you yelled, pulling your arm from his grip as he closed the door behind him.

“What are you doing?” he retorted, his voice thankfully not betraying how he was quaking inside.

“Why do you care?” you asked, and he could see how your fists were balled, your arms shaking slightly. He couldn’t help stepping closer to you, a hand gently placed on your elbow in an attempt to stop the quiver.

“Because,” he answered, a little petulant but he was stubborn and he didn’t even know why he had done what he did. Because I still love you like an idiot, a voice said at the back of his head, but he ignored it, opting to finish his sentence there. He had told you himself that he never wanted to see you again, but still he dragged you here. He hated himself, but looking at your fiery gaze and alcohol-reddened cheeks, he realized he could never hate you. No matter how much he wanted to.

“Because what?” you screamed in frustration, your hands pulling at your hair. “Why are you doing this to me? Why are you making this so hard?”

“Because,” he said, moving closer to you, his heart leaping at how you didn’t step back. He could see the tears lining your eyes, just on the edge of falling and with the music muffled through the door, he moved even closer. Maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was that for the first time in months he’d felt a semblance of an emotion, but his hands were cupping your face as he stared in your eyes. Your hands grasped his wrists, searing the skin, and he couldn’t hide the truth anymore.

“Because I don’t want to keep kissing people and pretending they’re you anymore,” he whispered, his lips meeting yours. 

You and him had shared kisses that felt like fireworks, explosions of wonders, but kissing you now was calming, almost serene; like he was finally home. Your lips slotted perfectly against his and it made him lose his breath. Behind the taste of liquor you’d been drinking was the familiar taste of your cherry lip tint, and the even more familiar taste of just simply you. He could never forget the perfect medley that was embedded in his head, the one he had been searching fruitlessly for a month with nameless Tinder dates. 

When you put your arms around him, he pulled you closer and it was as if nothing had changed. As if the two of you were still in his apartment kissing without reservations and it was always August 31st. But it wasn’t and as he refamiliarized himself with your mouth, his father’s voice from this morning rang inside his head, sobering him.

“Son, is this true?” 

Jungkook could see that one vein popping in his father’s forehead, the one he remembered from whenever he got a bad grade in high school or stayed out too late. He hadn’t seen it in a while but it took him back, his eyes widening in fear of a scolding.

“Is Y/N really the enemy? I thought she was on our side? What’s this about Saga?”

The enemy. He hadn’t thought of you like that but his father’s venom-filled words made sense. How else would he describe someone who strung him along, fed him lies, made him fall in love to take it all away for something as megre as monetary gain? 

It was when his father decided to scrap the game you helped him build, the one that he had been meticulously coding for months that he realized how much you took from him. His father benched him from his plans of a takeover till further notice, and Jungkook was left with nothing, no work to distract him any more. Just bitter pain.

“I can’t do this,” he breathed, pulling back, hating how his tongue came out to taste you on his lips one last time. “I can’t… I can’t be with the enemy.”

It was stupid, it was impulsive, but when the dazed look in your eyes turned into rage, Jungkook couldn’t stay in the room anymore. Turning around, he walked away. Out of the bedroom, out of the house, aimlessly roaming the street, trying to stop the way his lip wobbled.

It was what he was supposed to do, but he couldn’t help missing you all the same.

----------

The steam from the two cups of coffee flitted in the air, the smell invigorating after a sleepless night. The bleached white of the cups, tainted by a drop of the spilled beverage, matched the small table with its checkered red pattern. It was quiet except for the chatter of a few customers who rushed to grab their orders before leaving. The small cafe was almost empty because who else would be sitting and enjoying breakfast at 8am on a Tuesday?

Jungkook almost regretted agreeing to come meet you, but after how he had acted at the party, his guilt wouldn’t let him rest, forcing him to read and reread the text you had sent him. It was a little scary how he knew how you took your coffee in the morning, but hadn’t known that you were going to stab him in the back. He bit back the bitterness, however.

Hi. I would like to meet up face to face to finish off our project. You can send your assistant if you want, but after how you treated me on Saturday, I think I deserve a meeting, don’t you think so?

He read over your message again as he waited. He had contemplated sending Seungwon in his stead, but something about your tone made him rethink it. He didn’t appreciate being called out, although he was fully aware what an ass he had been, alcohol or not. The utter embarrassment he faced when he walked into his apartment to see Namjoon staring at him was enough for him to agree. He hadn’t disclosed to his friend why he was so torn up, but Namjoon was smart and didn’t need a memo to catch on. Jungkook shuddered imagining the scolding he would receive if the older man was made privy to the real reason he was so shaken up.

He took a sip of his coffee, enjoying the way the warm liquid soothed him, and then his pinkie twitched. He glared at the digit, his romanticized thoughts bothering him once again, but his reprieve was cut short by a gust of wind that cut his cheeks as the door opened. 

He couldn’t help but be a little endeared at your appearance, your figure swallowed under a large puffy coat, the fur trimmed hood atop your head and face almost hidden under the woolen scarf around your neck. He couldn’t help remembering how cold your hands always were. He wondered if your feet got cold too — if you would warm them up against his in bed. Not that he would allow himself to ever know for sure. 

Schooling his forlorn expression into a smile, he stood up, pulling the chair out for you, only to be stopped by you raising your hand towards him. 

“Don’t bother, this won’t take long,” you said, your tone colder than the snowy weather outside as you took off the hood to reveal your face, nose a bright red from the cold. Before he could say anything you were slamming a large stack of dog eared papers on the table. You handed him a few sheets of paper, the assignment topic written at the top in bolded letters. Corporate Espionage: The Grey Morality in a Digital World.

Ironic how the two of you were assigned the reason for your decoupling, as if fate was mocking you for your choices, mocking Jungkook. 

“I finished it. Feel free to edit it as you like when you submit it. I trust your judgement.”

I trust your judgement. Did you even realize how fucking stupid Jungkook felt hearing that? Maybe he should return the favour. Listen to Namjoon’s sage words and let you explain your side of the story. Perhaps it wasn’t as bad as Jungkook thought.

“Listen Y/N, can you sit down? We can talk?”

“No,” you replied harshly, pushing another, heavier stack of papers towards him. He didn’t have time to look at much other than the heading. Transfer of IP Rights. “I had my lawyer draw these up. You don’t need to worry about me being the enemy anymore, Jeon. There it is. Signed and notarized. You can have all the stupid rights for your stupid game. I’m done.”

And with that bombshell, you turned away, walking back into the cold morning, and leaving Jungkook scrambling for his thoughts. As he sat down, defeated, he read the document. You had given him the copyright to everything, from your research to the random character sketches you doodled in the margins. Even mechanics that didn’t end up in the game. Everything. 

Jungkook’s chest felt heavy, his thoughts swirling like the bile in his stomach. Someone who was using him wouldn’t do this, wouldn’t give up their claim on their idea. He stared at the mug in front of him, one with the caramel macchiato you enjoyed now cold to the touch, and realized that his ego had taken away his chance at happiness.

The cafe filled with people as he sat frozen. People laughed around him, giggling at jokes as they sipped their coffees, carefree, going in and out, but all Jungkook felt was the chills from the cold air everytime the door opened.

----------

Driving always calmed you down. The feel of the steering wheel vibrating slightly under your grip as the world passed you by made you feel invincible. As if all the troubles in the world couldn’t touch you, fading away like scenery in the periphery. But no matter how many miles you drove on the snowy highway, leaving the cafe you walked out of just now miles behind, it didn’t settle the disquiet brewing in your head. 

You had imagined the scenario of giving Jungkook those papers multiple times in the weeks they were being drafted. At first it was visions of a teary reunion and forgiven miscommunications; however, after Saturday night, those happy moments morphed into seeing Jungkook eat his words. You imagined him just as he was at the cafe — speechless and shocked, but seeing it in real life didn’t give you the satisfaction you desired. 

His face was embedded in your head as you drove the sleek empty roads. His eyes wide and lips pulled in a frown that betrayed his hurt manifested on your pupils, but it didn’t make you feel smug like you thought you would be. It hurt you to hurt him, to throw his words back at you. No matter how many times he had abandoned you, leaving him behind felt like you were stabbing your own heart and tossing it on the ground. 

It was painful. It was unsatisfying. And it was what made you immediately block him on all platforms lest your heart decide to take another hit of the cocky man who stuttered nervously when he told you he was a virgin. 

You didn’t need him. You had to do this for your own protection. If he wanted to talk to you, he had your email. It didn’t seem like he was interested in contacting you any other way anyways.

----------

Over the last few weeks, Jungkook had poured over the detailed documents you had provided him countless times, reading them before bed like some sort of masochistic bedtime story. His father had approved the game after seeing it, handing over Jungkook’s rough prototype to the developers after a quick short meeting. He had praised him for managing to acquire such a comprehensive transfer of ownership for free, and proudly used it as an example of his leadership, and Jungkook accepted it. He accepted it because he was a coward, too scared to admit that the price was losing you.

When he showed Namjoon what you had done, he was scolded. Namjoon rarely ever got angry with him but to see his jaw ticking as he berated Jungkook’s choices would be forever imprinted in him. 

“You have to apologize, Jungkook,” Namjoon advised sternly after skimming the elaborate set of papers. The way his eyebrows knitted made Jungkook uneasy, on edge as if he was witnessing a ticking bomb. The guilt that had started swirling in his gut was flamed by the older man’s response. He had expected Namjoon to offer his life philosophies to him, maybe some insightful words, but this blunt demand didn’t help the way Jungkook’s heart kept splintering everytime he remembered your words.

I’m done.

“She said she was done hyung… It doesn’t matter anymore. I can’t—” Jungkook’s defeated tone didn’t help quell Namjoon’s exasperation, instead making him interrupt his excuses with a flurried tongue, shaking his head with disappointment.

“Of course it fucking matters! The game’s going to be worth what? Millions? So why would she give up her share? Who the fuck would give up millions just to clear a misunderstanding?”

“I don’t know…” He did know. He knew no one would do that. He knew that the only reason you had done so was because your hate for him surpassed anything you could tangibly gain. There was a tiny voice in his head that told him that maybe the reason you had signed everything over wasn’t because you hated him. Maybe it was for the opposite reason, but then your voice would smother that thought.

I’m done.

“Yes, you do. You can’t keep running away when things get hard. You say you love her? You want to be at her side? Then you need to earn it, put your pride aside and actually listen to her.”

It seemed that those were the last words Namjoon would impart on him as he left the room. He didn’t even leave him Gureum for comfort and Jungkook couldn’t help wondering if perhaps that signified how upset he was with his decisions. But sitting in his living room, courage had never felt as elusive.

Jungkook sighed, rubbing his temples as he tried to comprehend the dry notes on the strategy some overpriced consultant had presented him in order to help Jaunty Games “cut the fat”, but no matter how hard he tried, the words blurred together and swirled, indecipherable. He groaned loudly as he tried to wrestle his focus away from you and back on to the page in front of him. It didn’t matter much since the only one to hear him would be himself as they echoed back through his empty office.

Defeated, he stood up, walking to the window and peering into the bustling streets. He watched the people below scatter to and from Samseong Station like little ants racing to their nests, feeling a little claustrophobic suddenly despite his extremely large, minimally decorated office. He unbuttoned his collar, the familiar rush of adrenaline shortening his breaths before he followed his usual routine. Staring at his hands, he counted his breaths, willing them to slow down and deepen. He flexed his hands to stop the shaking, his tattoos acting as an anchor as he felt himself start to calm down. 

Walking to his desk, he sat down, finally catching his bearings a little, and just in time too.

“Mr Jeon, I have the reports from the analysis department you asked for,” Seungwon announced as he breezed into the space after two quick knocks. Jungkook only hummed in response, not trusting his voice to not waver after such a close call with his demons. But Seungwon had practically raised Jungkook, and for him it was easy to recognize the signs - the beads of sweat on his forehead, the empty gaze, the overly controlled breathing, and the hands, clenching and unclenching.

He made his way around the desk, squatting in front of the younger man despite the way he averted his gaze, his cheeks flushed. He reached for the Newton’s Cradle on his desk, pulling the first metal sphere and watching carefully as Jungkook started concentrating on the movement and the sound emanating from the toy. 

Jungkook felt a wave of calm rush over him as he timed his breaths to the sounds, finally feeling fully in control of himself, even though he hated his helper.

“Jungkook, you’re okay,” Seungwon assured, repeating the phrase again and again, peppering it with praises for doing well. Jungkook couldn’t help softening at the attention from the former fatherly figure.

“I’m fine now. Thank you unc- Mr. Cha,” Jungkook quickly corrected himself. Although he had patched things up with his mother after the big reveal months ago, he still held a grudge against her boyfriend, his betrayal much larger in his mind. But he saw Seungwon’s face fall at the cold formal tone he had adopted as he started to walk away, and Jungkook realized that perhaps that was his biggest fault — shutting people out. Unlike Namjoon who did the same, Jungkook didn’t physically run away. He did it by building an impenetrable wall around himself. A wall embedded with sharp icicles and jagged razors, refusing to let anyone but a selected few cross, and easily tossing away those who wronged him. 

So for the first time he decided to change his patterns, not by letting the wall fall, but by opening a door. It was about time he heard Seungwon’s side of the story.

“Why did you do it?” he asked, a little too blunt, his thoughts still taking a moment to restart. Seungwon smiled warmly at him, making his way back towards the desk, taking a seat opposite the CEO in training.

“It wasn’t malicious, Jungkook. You know that right?” he explained, the wrinkles next to his eyes becoming prominent as he looked at him softly. Seungwon didn’t know where to begin but he didn’t want to lose the opportunity he was provided. “My whole life I thought I would end up alone. I was ready for it… to love from afar… to catch glimpses of moments that would never be mine. I never thought your mother would ever return the flame I held for her.”

“I had given up but fate had other plans. Sometimes love fades, and sometimes it perseveres. I have loved Kyungsoo for thirty years, but somehow after all that time she found her way to me,” he said, his voice softly carrying through the quiet of the room. His eyes met Jungkook’s widened ones before he continued. “We never planned it, you know? It just happened. And I’m so sorry I hurt you… I’m sorry, Jungkookie.”

Jungkook may be someone who held grudges, but he couldn’t help empathizing with the man. He could choose to paint him as a villain, waiting and watching for cracks in his parent’s relationship for thirty years, but despite all his efforts over the past few months, he was still a hopeless romantic at heart. He thought about you and wondered if he could do the same, agonizingly watch you from afar for decades. It must have felt like torture, each smile and exchange like little droplets landing on same spot on his forehead, an innocuous but unrelenting pain with no end in sight. 

His eyes watered without his consent, and before he knew it he was standing up and making his way to Seungwon, hugging him, the walls once again toppling to welcome him inside. He missed the way Seungwon teared up as well, grinning as he returned his embrace. Jungkook didn’t have many qualms about cancelling the rest of his afternoon to repair his relationship with Seungwon as he shared his love story, decades in the making.

It’s odd when we learn that our parents and parent figures are flawed, perhaps even more so than ourselves. It is a cognitive dissonance that shatters the reality we had relied on to be true. We idolize our caregivers, often putting them on a pedestal, never really seeing them as humans capable of making human mistakes. 

When Jungkook listened to the stories Seungwon shared, it was like watching his memories from a perspective he didn’t fathom before, going from first person to third. He remembered the times Seungwon would take care of him as a kid. He never felt like his father was absent from his life because he always had his beloved uncle Seungwon to battle him in Mario Kart and attend his baseball games, but as an adult he finally removed the rose-coloured lenses and realized that he wasn’t just absent from his life, he was absent from his mother’s too. A new, exponentially growing company demands all the attention of its leader, and he imagined how his mother felt being left alone all those years.

To Jungkook, Kyungsoo was warm, nurturing, and encouraging, but in Seungwon’s eyes she was resilient, strong, and brave — brave enough to step away from the seesaw of a relationship where the highs never felt enough and where the momentum needed to escape the lows required an immeasurable amount of effort. Jungkook liked that description of his mother. Liked hearing about how smart she was, and how capable of greatness she was from the man in love with her — the man who did nothing but appreciate her from afar. 

It led to a smile on his face. He had been bitter for so long that the purity of their connection warmed his heart, shedding light on the seed of hope planted there. Jungkook had thought he was naive for believing that love was everlasting, but hearing Seungwon’s words he thought his present self was even more naive. How could love be a lie when it was the only thing worth fighting for? Only thing worth watching for decades?

After three cups of coffee, Jungkook left the office with a strategy much better than any he had read all day — a strategy to ask for your forgiveness, even if he didn’t deserve it. Seungwon had somehow nonchalantly shared the most important piece of advice he had ever heard. Advice that chased away his cowardice and left only hope.

People make mistakes. People are flawed, but people are real. Whatever idea of you he had developed through his overthinking wasn’t worth not trying to fight for you. He could spend thirty years watching your life, or he could take his chances.

He grinned as his pinky twitched against the steering wheel.

—————

You steeled yourself with a deep breath, your heartbeat thrumming in your ears. You could feel the nerves shaking your legs, and if it weren’t for the fact that you were sitting, your knees would’ve surely buckled. Plastering a smile on your face, you squinted in the bright lights illuminating you, the din of the room becoming an afterthought. 

“So, Y/N, we know you started off as a streamer for ChampCon, how did you end up where you are now? Head of Strategy at Saga. That’s big! Did you always want to be creating games?”

You chuckled into the mic the way your public speaking classes had taught you to gauge the volume of the microphone. You were happy for the lights because they hid the audience. Speaking to a thousand people was daunting, but the setup of the panel had the feel of being in someone’s living room. The little plant on the round table was calming, even distracting the fact that it was actually a camera that was projecting the view on the large screen behind you.

“Thanks, Brianna. Honestly, this might sound a bit odd but I think I just stumbled onto this field. I started Twitch to learn how to play ChampCon. Before that I was very much a console only person,” you chuckled as the crowd laughed and jokingly booed. You waved your hands, trying to seem confident despite your nerves. “I know. I know! You’ve converted me! But yeah, once I started playing I kind of fell in love with the game and I just got obsessed with knowing all the mechanics, the artwork, how everything worked. For the first time, I was passionate about an industry. After years of searching, I think game development just found me. Like fate.”

You smiled amicably at the invisible crowd as the host asked other women on the panel about their journey. It felt odd sitting at a table of women who had launched their own games independently, or had competed in worldwide championships. By comparison, you had only created a Youtube channel where you sat in your room commenting on games someone else created. You hadn’t even started working at Saga yet!

However, you bit back your imposter syndrome, reminding yourself that you deserved to be there — that you were handpicked to share your views on gaming culture. The hour passed by in a blur and when the crowd applauded you could finally breathe. Your group was led off stage to a holding area, essentially a comfortable room in the back where lunch was served and the conference main stage played on a giant television.

If someone had told you even two months ago that you would be in Los Angeles at E3, one of the world’s largest gaming conventions, in a room full of amazing women from Jade Raymond to Geguri, you would’ve laughed in their face and asked them to take their medication. But here you were, not as a spectator or a mere attendee, but a speaker, starstruck by people knowing your name and your job. It felt as if you’d been thrust into a daydream, waiting to wake up any moment.

Settling onto one of the tables with some of the other speakers, you dug into the meal, conversation flowing seamlessly. Until your attention was diverted to the television when you heard your name. The whole table followed you, turning to pay attention to the screen, where no one other than Jeon Jungkook was speaking on stage.

Dressed in casual ripped jeans and a t-shirt with his company’s logo, he seemed to effortlessly command the large stage. He held the microphone easily as he gestured to the large screens behind him that were now displaying the game the two of you had worked to develop.

“Guys let me tell you, Y/N Y/L/N might seem like a casual streamer, but she is an absolute genius among us mere folks!” The crowd laughed roaringly at his joke and your face heated up. What was he doing? Why was he up there giving you credit? You gave him all the rights!

While Jungkook continued joking on stage, showing off the mobile game, and assuring people that it would be launched at the end of the year, you were barely paying attention. All you could see was the logos at the bottom of the name of the game. Rise of the Guardian, a JauntyxSaga collaboration.

You hadn’t spoken to Jungkook in three months, and it seemed that in that short amount of time Jungkook had not only managed to get the game developed, marketed and announced, but had also somehow managed to have his biggest rival come on board as a collaborator. It made you a little dizzy to think about how he had managed to take what was essentially doodles and scribbles and turned them into a real life video game. And although you heard him clearly give you much more credit than you deserved, you kind of wished you had been a part of the process. Another smaller voice in your head reminded you that you wished you had been with him during the process.

Before you could dwell too much, your eyes fell on Jungkook, in the flesh, as he was ushered in after his presentation.

You’ve always hated the dramatics in the movies where the music would muffle and lights would dim to show the lead staring at their love interest, but in that moment it was exactly like that. As if time had decided to stand still so the two of you could have a moment to yourselves. So your eyes could roam his features and get reacquainted with the sharpness of his jaw, the softness of his big eyes, the little mole under his lip. 

He smiled at you, a little bashful, as he scratched the side of his cheek, picking at an invisible hair. When you didn’t make a move, he made himself a plate from the buffet before hesitating a little, eyeing the open chair next to you. 

The past three months were hard. It was stupid how much you missed him even though you had been apart longer than you had been together. You had blocked him on everything and that helped keep your sanity a little. Being away from him, you had forgotten the hold his cute buck toothed smile had on you and before long you were forgoing all the promises you made to yourself and motioning to the chair next to him. 

He eagerly jumped at the opportunity, making himself comfortable, his eyes crinkled in glee. 

“Hi,” he said, his eyes never leaving yours, taking your breath away a little. 

“Hi,” you replied with a smile.

The two of you didn’t exchange any other words, only stealing glances as you ate.

—————

There was a little speck on the pristine hotel elevator doors that was bothering Jungkook. He could see his entire reflection, from the too big trunks he had stolen from Namjoon to the towel he had draped over his shoulder, but right on his forehead there was a smudge. It seemed like a watermark, and it was a little jarring to look at so he decided to fiddle with his phone instead, checking the chaos that had ensued on Twitter after his announcement that afternoon.

There were at least three hashtags relating to the announcement trending, but only one caught his eye - JungkookxTiger??? - where users were speculating and quoting Jungkook’s earlier gushing over his ex. Perhaps he had been a little heavy handed with his grand gesture… perhaps that was why you didn’t really make an effort to talk to him at lunch. 

Jungkook shook his head as the elevator doors opened to the pool, trying to shake out the negative thoughts, reminding himself that reconciliation wasn’t his aim, just an apology. He wanted to redeem himself in your eyes, and three months of self-reflection and three appointments with Namjoon’s therapist had taught him to be open to the possibility of you never giving him another chance. He was okay with that, even if he knew he would always regret losing you. But if that’s what made you happy, he would gladly take the heartbreak.

He was lost in his thoughts when he reached the pool, dropping his towel on a chaise lounge, but all those thoughts froze when he reached the whirlpools at the end of the pool. He wanted to strip away the exhaustion of the day by relaxing in the steaming water. It seemed that you had the same idea.

“Umm… hi,” Jungkook floundered, not knowing if the awkwardness was in his head or not, but feeling an intense need to rectify it. “Sorry! I’m not following you I swear! I can leave if you want,” he added, kicking himself internally for being so nervous. The fact that you were sitting in the hot tub in a red bikini with your skin flushed from the heat didn’t help his nerves at all.

“It’s a public space, Jeon,” you waved, smiling a little as you leaned back and closed your eyes. Your smile did nothing to quell his racing pulse as he tentatively got in the pool and settled across from you.

“So JauntyxSaga, huh?” you commented casually, Jungkook’s gaze snapping from where it was fixated on his hands to your face. Your expression was neutral and it made him uneasy, wanting so badly to rewind time back to when the two of you easily laughed together.

“Um.. yeah. Is that okay?”

“You don’t need to ask me, Jeon. It’s your company,” you shrugged, and your nonchalance made him want to explain himself. He felt as if the window of opportunity to get into your good graces was quickly closing.

“Yeah. But are you okay with me saying it was your idea… I wanted to reach out to you, but I also kind of wanted it to be a surprise?”

“Consider me surprised,” you chuckled and he didn’t know if he should be relieved or worried, worrying his lip with his teeth.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve asked right? I just wanted to give you credit…”

“Why? Ideas don’t matter… execution does. I just came up with the concept, you made it happen.”

“Because you matter,” he muttered, apologizing when you responded with a sigh of his name. He didn’t know what to say, so he just sat there, stewing in his regrets.

“I’m going to go,” you said, and he watched you get out and wrap a towel around you, months of pep talks going down the drain as his throat closed around any words his brain could muster. However, it seemed that he didn’t need the courage, because before you left you turned around.

“Wanna get some coffee when we’re back in Seoul?”

“Yes,” Jungkook’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “I’d like that… a lot.”

“Cool. I’ll text you sometime.”

You waved, turning away from him, and he couldn’t help but grin like an idiot.

----------

You didn’t know why you had asked Jungkook for coffee that night and why five days later you were fidgeting with the mug of black coffee in front of you in a small cafe near campus. Call it an impulse or longing, but as you waited for Jungkook to arrive, the nerves you felt in the pool were back, swirling in your belly and erupting into butterflies when you saw him walk through the door.

It wasn’t a reunion that songs would be written about — it was stilted, painfully awkward. But it was real. After chasing him down all that time, it was bizarre that after what seemed like a lifetime of radio silence, he was there. Right in front of you, sitting in a distractingly well-fitted suit.

Two people could have a lot in common, but when so much miscommunication had overshadowed those similarities, was it even possible to partake in a normal conversation? While you sipped your coffee, you wished you could erase the past, go back to when it was easy, when all he had to do was give you one of his brilliant smiles and you would return it with a kiss. 

“How’s work?” Jungkook asked, clearing his throat before beginning, as if the question he had asked required much deliberation, and you wished he would just get to the point. That you could skip all the small talk, and move on to the apologies. A voice in your head reminded you of the way you felt when you sat on those plastic chairs in the hospital, the way it seemed your heart was being slowly carved out of your chest while he chose to ghost you. And just like that, you didn’t want to be there anymore despite it being your own idea.

“Haven’t started yet. I start after graduation next month,” you replied, the chill in your voice complementing your stormy thoughts.

“Oh, that makes sense.” He fidgeted with the mug. He moved it from one hand to the other, the liquid splashing but not yet spilling. It made you anxious. He bit his lip, eyebrows furrowed, eyes on the table, when he asked you the next question. “You excited to be done with school?”

“Sure. You?” Why was this so hard? Why was just conversing like humans so taxing? Perhaps it was inevitable. Maybe you had fallen into this weird whirlwind of a short-lived romance, one that wasn’t meant to last. Maybe it was for the best that things had fallen apart before they got too serious. But if they weren’t serious, why were you still agonizing over it months later? Why was it taking you longer to forget him than it took you to get over relationships that lasted years?

“Umm… yes. Yeah! Finally in the real world you know… Real people, real problems,” Jungkook said, his volume almost a little too low to be heard over the din of the cafe.

 He kept moving his mug. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. From the tattooed hand that would hold yours to the bare one that would caress your jaw when he kissed you. You couldn’t concentrate on whatever canned question he asked you, couldn’t even hear it, your eyes following the brilliant white dishware, like you were watching a tennis match. Till you couldn’t help yourself, your hand reaching out and stopping the mug, spilling the coffee. 

You didn’t even feel the few drops that landed on your fingers, still around the mug, but Jungkook was in a sudden frenzy, grabbing napkins and stopping the liquid from reaching the edge of the table. He tended to you next, taking your hand before you could pull it back and wiping it clean, examining it intensely for any injuries. 

You wanted to tell yourself it was uncomfortable — that him holding your hand once again made you want anything other than wanting to grasp it tighter. But you were never too good at lying to yourself, so you let him linger longer than your rationality would have allowed you. Let him gaze at you pleadingly, wordlessly asking for the same thing you wanted. Don’t let go, please.

“I miss you,” he murmured, a little anguished, his hand shaking in yours, his eyes on your fingers as they twitched subconsciously.

“I miss you, too,” you dared to reply despite the walls around your heart. His gaze snapped to yours at your words and you could read the battle within them. “But I don’t know if we can ever go back.”

“I… I don’t want to go back,” Jungkook said, suddenly determined, his hand confidently grasping yours tighter. “I want to be better. Make us better. Please?”

“Jungkook… I don’t know.”

“We can be friends again? That can work right?” His tone didn’t seem like he was begging, but you knew he was, his body stiff in anticipation. Could you survive giving him another chance?

“We were never really friends,” you remarked, a small smile stretching your lips, as you thought about the stupid arguments the two of you would have in class, almost a lifetime ago. “Frenemies at best.”

He smiled at that, relaxing a little at your joke, squeezing your fingers in his palm before letting go. 

The conversation after was still a little awkward, but you didn’t overthink it, refusing to settle the blush that decorated your cheekbones every time his knee brushed against yours. And when he asked you if you would like to grab dinner together, you agreed. Maybe you could’ve been better to him too. Maybe the two of you could be better to each other. 

After all, you wouldn’t know unless you tried.

----------

Jungkook kept glancing at you, despite telling himself to keep his eyes on the road. He couldn’t help it, not when the sun fading over the horizon bathed you in a glow that he wished he could memorize. Not when you softly sang to the radio, nodding your head to the mellow beat and smiling at the cheesy lyrics proclaiming love everlasting. Not when all he wanted to do was hold your hand again.

He hadn’t even dared to touch you after the day you got coffee, but after three decidedly less uncomfortable hangouts, he had finally asked you on a date. A date you had agreed to, despite all his demons reminding him that he was too unworthy to even ask.

The first hangout was dinner at a small diner where you told him about your parents and your childhood. He didn’t know much about your life. Somehow in the month the two of you had been together, it had been glazed over. But he was happy to hear about it, ecstatic to learn what shaped you. He always knew you were determined, headstrong, but hearing about how you were bullied as a child over thrifted clothes till you decided to take up Taekwondo to fight back, made him gain more insight into you. You were always a fighter, fighting for yourself, your beliefs, even him when he treated you worse than all those bullies.

On your second hangout, he told you about Candy — an unrequited love that he realized was never a love at all, not the way it should be. You cut him off when he started to apologize about kissing her, telling him that it was okay. He bit away his guilt, letting you distract him with a game of Mario Kart. He would try to apologize again today. He would try to apologize for everything today.

For your last hangout, the two of you went to an amusement park, and between the laughs and cotton candy he felt a lump in his throat. Your hair flew in the wind when you drove the bumper car towards him, glee lighting up your face, your giggles loud and carefree as your car collided with his. If he was a cartoon his eyes would have turned into hearts at that moment. He thought he loved you, but it seemed that every little moment he spent with you increased his feelings tenfold, like before he was only exploring the surface of Marianas Trench. He couldn’t wait to dive deeper, turn his lungs to dust if needed. It was the courage he needed to ask you on date.

“Our first date’s on a boat?” you asked, mirth lacing your skepticism, and he couldn’t help but chuckle as he pulled into the marina.

“I thought it’d be nice to talk somewhere new,” he replied, his voice not betraying the sudden anxiety that invaded his thoughts. Perhaps taking you on a boat to make amends was too on the nose. “I got you those sandwiches you like from Hongdae.”

The times Jungkook and you had met before this date were amazing, but they were still tinged with guilt. Fear that the delicate thread that held your moments together would perish at the lightest mention of the past was ingrained in you. You didn’t want to think about the Jungkook who you hurt and who hurt you, you just wanted to exist in this precarious bubble of friends that ignored the tension in the room for longer. Because even if it was uncomfortable at times, at least it was there. You didn’t know if you were brave enough to test whether it would pop once the two of you really talked. You weren’t brave enough to reflect on how you’d react if your days went back to being void of his presence.

But when Jungkook smiled, his upper lip disappearing to bare his teeth and his eyes squinting from how high his cheeks got, you found the courage to smile back, to step out of the car and onto a sailboat, sappily named SS True Love.

The boat seemed much lower than what Jungkook’s social status would predict, a simple navy blue hull with white trimmings. The hardwood deck only had room enough for a blanket at the bow, the rest taken up by the cockpit. As Jungkook set up the sails, you set up the late afternoon lunch, the wind caressing you once you had settled to watch Jungkook move around with ease.

It seemed that Thursday afternoon wasn’t a popular time for a boat ride, your boat the only one rippling the calm river. The Seoul skyline never looked better than it did from the deck of Jungkook’s sailboat, the scent of freshwater making the crowded city look almost serene. As the sun dipped closer to the horizon behind you, the city was already coming alive, the mismash of lights visible even if it wasn’t dark yet. It looked almost fragile, a line of silver icicles reaching to the skies and vibrating with fireflies, capturing the remaining rays of the sun.

Jungkook anchored in the middle of the river and settled next to you after turning on some music. The melodies carried on the wind, embellishing the silence between the two of you as you ate, soaking in the remaining sun as it set. That’s when you noticed the lines of fairy lights on the railing, their fluorescent glow warming you, melting the lead from your tongue.

“Do you want some more wine?” Jungkook asked, holding the bottle of red he had procured to go with the prosciutto sandwiches you adored, ones that were out of the way for him but he had bought anyways. Just because you mentioned once you liked them. Watching him pour the wine carefully in his glass, his hair falling into his eyes, you felt your heart flutter. You didn’t want to let him go. You wanted to hold on to him, to hold him so tight your muscles would quiver with fatigue.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Saga,” you blurted out, cursing yourself for your lack of finesse. Jungkook froze, his eyebrows disappearing behind his bangs as he stared at you open-mouthed. However, now that you had started, the word vomit continued, your hands flailing in front of you. 

“To be honest, I got interviewed before we even started talking and when it became official I was under an NDA and so I couldn’t tell you and to be honest I totally completely forgot about it. Wait, that sounds like an excuse! I didn’t forget forget, I just didn’t pay attention to it because I was scared about a big change and so my brain decided to not think about it and-”

“You didn’t have to tell me anything. I should’ve trusted you,” he interrupted, his fingers pulling at the thread poking from the rip on his jeans. He could feel his heart pounding against his chest, barrelling at a speed unfathomable as he recalled how he made every wrong decision, from leaving you on his birthday to ghosting you to being a drunken asshole. But most of all he recalled the broken way you looked at him at the hospital when he spat venom into your wounds. He would’ve never talked to himself after that but you did, because much like your username, you were a tiger, fighting for what’s yours. He belonged to you after all, had since the first time you crashed into him, seamlessly falling into his arms as if he was made to catch you. 

His regret lined his eyes, cascading slowly to his jaw in a single stream that clogged his sinuses and cracked his voice as he spoke. “I should’ve trusted you. I’m so, so sorry, Y/N.”

Like all the times you had mirrored his smiles, you mirrored his tears too. 

“I think I ruined us,” you sniffled, fingers wiping at his cheekbones, and the sparks your touch left powered his arms to cling around you and pull you to his chest. You could hear the hammering of his heart, your mind reintroduced to the scent you had almost forgotten, despite craving.

“No, I did,” he replied, adamant even through his whispers. “I was so mean to you. I’m so sorry, Tiger. I don’t deserve you.”

“You were a little mean,” you joked, pulling away from where you were buried in his chest and cupping his face in your hands, smiling at his bashful, melancholic whine. “But it’s okay. No one deserves anyone, we choose.”

“You shouldn’t choose me,” Jungkook lamented, his glassy eyes reflecting the light around you, even larger than usual as they stared into yours. His hands on your waist gripped you tighter, regardless. “No matter how much I want you to,” he added in a whisper, barely audible over the sounds of the water.

“But that’s why I do,” you replied simply, wiping his tears once again, only for more to appear as he hid from you, his face finding its home in the crook of your neck. You held him tight and Jungkook wished he never had to leave your embrace, to never know a world where your warmth didn’t surround him. He knew he was going to wear his heart on his sleeve this evening, but he never imagined that you would accept it, keep it safe next to yours and drown his senses with your comfort. 

He didn’t dare move from your arms as you stroked his hair and the two of you talked about your times apart. Till the pain you had caused each other didn’t feel as fresh anymore, till it faded into a throb that reminded you of your mistakes but didn’t hinder you. There was a certain poetry to being in your arms, and Jungkook wished he could immortalize it. It was the moment where his soul finally felt at ease, the dark sky of the evening a blanket tucking him into a dream that he thought he’d never achieve.

He left your arms to guide the boat back to the docks, but couldn’t bring himself to let go of your hand as he drove you home. He never wanted to let go, afraid that he would wake up back in his empty room, cold and alone. That bitter fear manifested in a plea, overlapping with one of yours as he walked you to your apartment.

“Can I stay for a bit?”

“Come over?”

The two of you stared at each other before bursting into laughter, the tension dissolving in your combined joy, effervescent. When the laughter faded, the stare remained, his eyes looking into yours with the gentleness you had come to rediscover, like his pupils were melting with every photon bouncing off your skin. It erased your hesitation as you leaned up on your toes to place your lips on his for a quick fleeting second, before giggling.

Jungkook felt his entire body blush from the simple brush of your lips, and he wanted to cry again, his reservoir far from empty. His fingers touched his lips, almost in disbelief, but the tingles that radiated from them made him believe it was real. Your chuckles brought him out of his haze and before you even knew it was happening, he pulled you towards him with the hand still attached to yours, landing his lips on yours. 

He knew he was being a little too needy, his mouth a little too sloppy as it molded to yours, but when he gently laid his hand on your neck, he could feel your pulse galloping in time with his, and it made a whimper escape his lips. You captured it with yours, caressing it with your tongue, coaxing more of its friends to build a symphony you adored, till the grin on your face made kissing him difficult.

“You whimpered first,” you whispered, your nose scrunching at his groan, and you pinched his cheek before turning around to unlock the door. But Jungkook had gotten a taste of the paradise he thought he would never see again so his arms wrapped around your waist, his chest to your back and his nose buried in your hair. He inhaled the jasmine, his eyes closing in content, as you all but dragged him inside the apartment.

“It’s not fair,” he complained, shutting the door with his foot, his lips kissing anywhere he could reach, your cheek, your eyebrow, your jaw, your neck. “You’re a goddess and I’m helpless.”

Your giggles gave birth to the butterflies that fluttered in his stomach and turned to confetti in his chest, and soon he was turning you around, kissing your lips, tasting the cherry tint that adorned them. It was muscle memory, the way his tongue caressed yours, gentle and hungry in equal measure, the way his hands grabbed your thighs till your legs were around his waist, their warmth fanning the fire growing within him. He held you tight, grateful for his strength because in that moment he wanted nothing more than you wrapping yourself around him, your chest against his, your arms around his neck, locking his lips to yours.

He blindly followed your instructions to your bed, his lips never leaving your skin, even when they migrated to your neck, where they suckled. He knew he reached your bed when it hit his shin, the pain radiating from the bone a mere afterthought to how you looked lying in front of him, flushed and breathless.

He climbed on top of you, slotting himself between your legs and devouring your lips once again. “I missed you,” he murmured between kisses, his voice just a vehicle for his heavy breaths. “I missed you so much.”

He kissed you again, but you held his face between your hands, stopping him momentarily. You wanted him, wanted him more than anything, but your heart needed a little more assurance, more than his searing kisses and the adoration dripping from his eyes.

“Promise me you won’t leave again,” you pleaded, words a little too weak for your liking, but it was the best you could with the way you felt, as if you were on the edge of floating away. 

The tears that Jungkook’s lust had hidden away returned as his lip quivered. He hated the little wobble in your voice, the desperation dripping from your words, but it was ‘again’ that echoed in his head, reminding him of the mistakes he had made. How he had broken your trust under the guise of revenge. Reminded him that he had screamed at his father for abandoning his love, for not fighting for it, when he had done the same based on a headline. He didn’t know if words would ever be able to convey his regret, to convey his gratitude for another chance with you.

He whined your name, as he fell next to you, landing on his back and covering his face in shame, mumbled apologies breaking your heart.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, refusing you to let you pull his hands away from his face. You didn’t want his regret, his sorrow, you had only wanted assurance, just a few words to push your insecurities back into the dark. Straddling his waist, you ran your hands up his shirt, till they were over his, and bent down to kiss them, pecking the skin again and again till you coaxed away the palms covering his features.

“No more crying, Kookie,” you cooed, the nickname foreign on your tongue but something you’d been resisting from calling him ever since he ate the horrendous cookies you had baked from him. You should’ve used it earlier because the way Jungkook’s face lit up made you warm. His eyes peered at you from behind his dewy lashes, and his mouth pulled in a shy pout that made you want to put him in your pocket.

“Kookie?” he sniffled.

“Can’t I have a cute name for my boyfriend?” You forgot your earlier fears, your mind fixated on how you had never felt affection like this for someone, wanting to challenge them and protect them, all at the same moment.

“Boyfriend?” he asked, awe lacing his words with wonder.

“Want to be my boyfriend, Kookie?” you giggled, pulling his hands fully away from his face, lacing your fingers with his as they landed next to his head.

“Yes please,” he said softly, his jaw tipping upwards, lips meeting yours halfway in a languid kiss that seemed to go on forever. His hands squeezed yours as you extended them above his head to lay your chest against his, deepening the kiss till it stole your breath and kept it hostage next to Jungkook’s.

When your lips parted, your forehead remained glued with his, as did your eyes, crossing as they memorized each speck in his irises, the rich dark chocolate melting into the ebony of his pupils. He nuzzled his nose against yours, stealing a few kisses.

He didn’t know if it was the lights in the room or the glow in the chest that made you look so ethereal, your hands warm in his as your hair cocooned the two of you in a moment he thought would never come. He never liked crying, especially in front of others, but it was like all his emotions were on the surface bubbling up till they had no choice but to escape as moisture from his lids. 

When you kissed him again it felt like the first time, when he lost the concept of time and space, his world shifting to a slate bursting in bright colours. The pink of the blush of his cheeks, the blue of the bed sheets below him, the orange of the specks behind his eyes, the red of the blood rushing through his veins at breakneck speed, the purple of his love bursting through his soul. An amalgam of shades that launched the little moans from his lips to yours and captured the sounds you reciprocated. He couldn’t hold it back anymore when your hands left his to cradle his face, to pull at his hair, to unbutton his shirt. 

“I love you,” he moaned when your kisses left his mouth on their journey to his jaw to his neck. “I love you so much, Y/N. Is that okay?”

You were taken aback by his timid confession, by the way his lip quivered with emotion, the way his glassy eyes looked at you with expectation. Whenever any man had uttered the same phrase to you in the past, it had been laced with confidence, with an expectation of gratitude, but Jungkook was pure — an innocent exclamation of love, spoken just because he couldn’t hold it anymore. It was brave — he was brave — and it made you the same, putting words to an emotion you were too afraid to even think about. 

“I love you too,” you whispered and Jungkook grinned wide before promptly breaking into a sob, holding you close and burying his nose in your chest as he sat up. You held his head, stroking this hair till his grip around your waist loosened a little and he looked at you. 

“Thank you,” he muttered against your skin, his tone painted with reverence, looking small despite being much larger than you, his arms clinging to you tighter. “I never thought I’d ever find you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Thought I wouldn’t ever find anyone who’d love me back,” he giggled a little deliriously and you couldn’t help but kiss him, spilling your affection into him, and Jungkook thought he was the luckiest man to ever exist when you told him you loved him again and again.

With each kiss, you loosened one of his buttons till his shirt was hanging only on his arms and your lips were painting mosaics of roses on his collarbones, his chest. He could feel his breaths getting heavier, but his desire for you was stronger than his need to breathe, and so he was unzipping your dress and pulling it off your body, silently congratulating himself for figuring out that it zipped from the side. 

When he saw you sitting on him in just your panties, he felt like he was going short-circuit, like the two of you were in an abyss that housed only your bodies floating through infinity. He captured your lips again, harder than ever before, his hands grasping any and everywhere, till you were rolling your hips against him in time with how he rolled his tongue against yours. With every swivel of your hips he grew needier, needier for you to consume him, to carve him under your skin, till he was spinning you to the bed and hovering above you.

It felt like ecstasy in your veins to have Jungkook above you, but you were greedy for more. Your hands traced down his back, feeling each muscle as he shivered against you, nipping at your neck. When you reached his belt, you made quick work of undoing it, unbuttoning his pants, and cupping him over his underwear. He moaned against you before latching on to your nipple, his tongue flicking the bud as he suckled, eliciting loud moans of your own. 

Before long, you had him naked, your hands working the precum down his length so slowly Jungkook thought he would lose his mind. He told you as much as he moved lower down your body, removing your panties as well as your hand from his cock so he could lift your legs to his shoulders and devour you.

He had only tasted you once before, but he had been dreaming about it since — the musky scent clouding his senses and the sweet sour taste exploding on his taste buds. He thought he would cum just from the first lick but he held on, egged on by your mewls as your fingers gripped his hair and your hips rode his face. When he sucked on your clit, you yelled a chorus of his name and he got brave enough to slide a finger in, his eyes rolling back at the warmth.

You couldn’t help the way your legs shook next to his head, your brain unable to comprehend how amazing he felt, and when his one finger became two you were almost at the end of your control, your walls spasming as he increased his pace at your request. Unlike the first time, Jungkook was focused on your clit, and it was the quick flicking of his tongue that made you come undone with loud expletives and bursts of orange behind your eyes. When you pulled at his hair, he quickly got the cue, his lips moving to your thigh where he gently made the skin bloom with the edge of his teeth before travelling up your body till he was kissing you.

“Can I...?” he asked, his voice airy and eyes pleading, grinding against your thigh in a way that seemed entirely unintentional, and you couldn’t help the giddiness that exploded through you, making your heart blossom florals.

“Are you sure you want to?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” Jungkook answered, determined, kissing your breath away before a softer “Please?” escaped his lips. You had no choice but to oblige because you too, like him, hadn’t been more sure of anything else in your life.

Guiding him to slowly fill you up, you held his hand as you enveloped him. He couldn’t help the cry of your name that bubbled from deep within his chest when he was fully within you. Nothing had ever felt so extraordinary, so indescribably perfect, as he buried his face in your neck, the soothing scent of your perfume, jasmine and lilies, calming him and making him feral all at once. He knew he was shaking, his senses lighting up with every slow caress you granted him, and when you finally gave him permission to move he let his instincts take over.

He always thought he’d be bad at this, that he would lose it the moment he entered you, but his desire to never let this moment end was stronger. Tasting the salt on your skin he moved his hips faster so he wouldn’t have to leave you for too long. You kissed the side of his head and whispered adorations, and it was nothing short of heavenly, like the cosmos had worked together to ensure that the two of you melded perfectly. This moment, this bed, was the singularity pulling him into you, leaving him helpless and happy to become a part of you, now and forever. He never wanted this to end.

“Cum for me, Kookie,” you whispered, your voice chocolate smooth and all too enticing as he lost himself, spilling inside you with a groan that reverberated through the room. He didn’t dare leave your comfort, collapsing on top of you, relishing the way your legs crossed behind his back and your free hand slowly soothed him by tracing warm patterns on his back.

“I love you,” he murmured yet again, wishing he was a poet that could arrange words in a way that was less generic, but when you said the same words back to him, he realized there was nothing else he’d rather hear.

----------

“Kookie! I cannot believe you want us to marathon this whole thing. It’s six seasons!” you exclaimed, turning your nose up at the teen show from the nineties currently playing its seventh episode on his obscenely large television. He grinned at you in that endearingly cute way that scrunched his nose as he walked in from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn, plopping onto the couch next to you, his arm easily pulling you in to cuddle into him.

“Dawson’s Creek is the best show ever written,” he said cooly, popping a kernel in his mouth and cooing at your glare, before relenting, albeit with faux disappointment. “But I guess since it's our one month anniversary, I’ll let you pick.”

“I told you we’re not doing monthly anniversaries!” Your protest turned into giggles when he pouted at you, making you push his face away. He whined, grabbing your hand and kissing it, making you stupidly flustered. Even though Jungkook and you had been together for a bit, his romantic side always made you shy. 

Instead of teasing you like he usually would, he smiled, letting go of your hand to kiss your lips instead, once, twice, three times. He loved the way you whined cutely before grabbing the remote and moving to sit between his legs so he could perch his head on your shoulder the way he liked to.

Jungkook relaxed back on the couch, his arms tightening around you as you scrolled through Netflix, and somehow he had never felt more relaxed. He nuzzled into you with a grin, feeling warm and content, breathing in your scent. It was then that he felt his pinky twitch where his hand rested on your waist, and he couldn’t help his eyes as they zeroed on to your hand around the remote, watching as yours did the same. 

Jungkook had always believed in the old myths, and as he saw the subtle movement of your finger, he knew that his belief wasn’t in vain.

-

Part 1 | Part 2 | Drabble

I hope you enjoyed the angst! For more fics of mine check out my masterlist

taglist- @ressjeon, @joonights, @mwitsmejk, @daggerbeneathmygown, @moonchild1, @drumsofheaven, @thisartemisnevermisses, @kaepjjangiya, @bbydoejk, @emsuzz, @crewzie-chan, @cheesecakes-randomshitz, @aroseforyoongi, @awhnamjoon, @agustdjoon, @codeinebelle, @hobiandsprite, @bbydoejk​, @kaepjjangiya​, @thisartemisnevermisses, @drumsofheaven, @moonchild1​, @daggersandicedcoffee, @mwitsmejk, @hisunshiine, @wearenot7withu, @btsrapline9​, @jalexad​

[ilyoimia]

genshin girls on a date

includes ☆ jean, lisa, rosaria, sucrose, noelle, xinyan, ningguang, beidou, yanfei, keqing, ganyu, yoimiya, kokomi, ei (600+ words)

an ☆ sorry for any mistakes! | WAIT I MIGHT MAKE A YOIMIYA ONESHOT BASED ON HER HC HOL UP! anyway, enjoy <3 (reqs are open)

i jean: she loves picnic dates at the statue of the seven with that huge tree! she seems like she would pack lots of muffins and sandwiches and those lemonade packets that you put in water to make lemonade.

ii lisa: loves dates at the library and at the bookstore! I mean what do u expect, she's a librarian! she loves spoiling you with books!! SHE IS SO HOT LORDD

iii rosaria: when she isn't working or doing errands, she loves taking you out on dates near the edges of mountains whenever it's cold. she loves making you a mini bouquet with flowers she picks while you and she are walking (MARRY ME OMFG)

iv sucrose: the date is just you two studying together! she loves helping you with your homework that you don't understand. it sounds lame but you just love spending time with her in general! you do get embarrassed when you get the answer wrong tho, but she doesn't mind (when is this gonna happen to me omfg...)

v noelle: a copy of jean, 'cause she loves the wind rise and she finds it calming! you guys eat snacks and walk around while enjoying each other's company.

vi xinyan: doesn't take you out on a date, I think she would just teach you how to play the guitar, WHICH IS EVEN BETTER! she lets you sit on her lap while you're holding her guitar and she shows you how to play certain notes UGHHH marry me

vii ningguang: she takes you out on a super fancy dinner at a super fancy restaurant, cause she loves spoiling you with food and gifts and so many other items. she buys those fancy and expensive wines after you guys are done with your dinner!

viii beidou: def would take you out on a boat date as the beach, I mean she is a pirate! you love the smell of the ocean and the cool wind on your face. and her in a bikini!!! u just wanna smooch her lips cause she so hot

ix yanfei: library date like lisa! you and she like books a lot, and it's even better when you're in a building with thousands of books in it! you guys would be the type of people to take those couple photos that everyone finds on pinterest (｡╯︵╰｡)

x keqing: she just loves chilling with you at home! she also loves baking. therefore you and her would bake some macarons together, or make ice cream together frequently cause you and keqing are sweet tooth's (´꒳`)

xi ganyu: she would take you to a rock climbing center! irdk I just feel like she would like rock climbing (and seeing you scared for your life)! she also loves taking photos of you and sets it as her wallpaper (this is so adorable help me)

xii yoimiya: takes you out to watch the stars at night! and she surprises you with fireworks that make a heart shape and says the first ily (T_T) crying rn

xiii kokomi: cat cafe date definitely! she knows how much you love cats, furthermore she loves taking you there! she would get you a lot of sweet treats and cat-shaped sandwiches!! kokomi would take photos of you with the cats, and hang it up on her fridge (mom :(( I want this one)

xiv ei: basically another version on ningguang! takes you out to some high-class restaurant and gets you some expensive stake or some shii! she loves spoiling you with literally anything, like expensive diamond jewelry or high-class wine!

[mae-gi-writes]

Yūgen | Sunwoo (The Boyz)

Yugen (n.) a profound, mysterious sense of the beauty of the universe that triggers a deep, emotional response. 

Requested by anon! In which Sunwoo, the ace of the volleyball team, is curious about what you’re drawing all the time. Until one day, he stumbles upon a drawing of himself made from yours truly. 

Genre: fluff, volleyball player! Sunwoo and art student reader, shy love, softness, and inspired by haikyuu because I have been obssessed with the anime lately TT__TT  A/N: It feels like it’s been ages since I’ve posted here! Slowly but surely, I’m going through my inbox and replying to your requests. Thank you for your patience, stay safe loves, ily all xx 

-----

Sunwoo wasn't artistically inclined.

But that never stopped him from admiring those that were. He was always so curious as to how just a flick of fingers managed to create a shadow, or how just one glance at a subject made it through onto paper without so much as an effort to remember the details. It was like it was automatically recorded into one's brain, hands already registered to mimic the curves and the folds and the shadows that turned into nothing short of a miraculous piece. So when he caught sight of someone drawing, it always piqued his interest. He stumbled upon you one late afternoon after his volleyball practice, with sweat dotting his forehead and his training bag slung casually over his shoulder. He was about to direct his way to the parking lot upon exiting the gymnasium, only to spot a lone figure huddled upon the bleachers and curled into a ball that caused Sunwoo to frown. Slowly sidling up to the stranger in question and peeking over the railing to catch a glimpse of your face, his eyes are instantly driven to the sketchpad in your hands.

You didn't notice him though, so absorbed in your own world with earphones blocking out reality that a tsunami could've gone unnoticed. So Sunwoo took advantage to climb over onto the opposite bleacher and, after ensuring that your back wouldn't turn to greet him, leaned over the separation to catch sight of a lone figure cartwheeling freely over the page. Woah. You were talented alright. There was nothing else to describe the fluidity of movement you caught with your pencil. It made Sunwoo's breath catch in his throat. He had the sudden urge to know exactly what kind of face hid behind the visual mastery manifesting before his very eyes. After all, there must be other things for them to see rather than the boring literal reality that most people settled for. What kind of imageries were they creating in their heads? What beautiful stories were they crafting? Worlds they got lost in? You moved then, causing Sunwoo to jolt back and scurry away with his heart beating out of his chest, deciding that it was enough spying for the day. After that day, he made sure to seek you out every time after practice although he noticed you never strayed too long in the same place, always moving about like a shadow lingering in the corner, invisible yet omniscient. Sometimes you would find a quiet spot in a patch of sunlight by the tennis courts. Sometimes you'd be found on the bleachers, alert eyes observing every pass, every move, every twist of a body like  camera taking everything in. Sunwoo never approached you. Not that he didn't want to, but he found it awkward to just come up to you and present himself as the guy who'd been stalking your drawings. So he admired you from afar instead, relished in the passion of your dark coffee coloured eyes and in the attentive focus dipping your eyebrows in a soft frown, lips paeted slightly in concentration. "Do you know her?" He'd asked one of his friends from the volleyball team once, during their lunch break as he saw you line up at the cafeteria. Changmin took a peek at your face before he shook his head, "she might be in one of my electives." "Which one?" "I think it's art." Sunwoo forced his face to remain in a mask of calmness as he grabbed a steak sandwich, no fries, "do you know her name?" "Nah. I don't think she's ever spoken in class," Changmin's eyebrows quirk up then, "why'd you ask?" "No reason." Changmin's pointed look defined anything but that.  Although he did have the decency to drop the subject as soon as the rest of the volleyball team joined the table. Sunwoo got his answer a few days later when he practically toppled over you and your drawing crayons. It was his mistake. He'd been leaning too far out from the top of the basketball bleachers, struggling to get even the smidgest glimpse of what amazing piece of art hiding under your jacket sleeve, only for his foot to slip. Down he went with a curse, crashing straight into your body and quickly scrabbling to wrap his arms around your head, a pathetic attempt to cushion your fall as you fell into a heap in front of the bleachers. "You--you okay?" He huffed out, breathless and heart beating like a time bomb. Pulling his arms away slowly, gently, he finally met your gaze straight on and --oh my, your eyes were not coffee coloured at all.  But more of a honey-brown, wide open and framed by soft lashes. Currently dilated in panic. "I'm fine! What--What about you? Oh gosh, I'm so sorry--" "No it was my fault," he made a grab for your sketchbook and scattered pens only for his orbs to register the face messily etched onto the paper. His breath caught. For a minute, he could do nothing but stare at the replica of his face made in charcoal. Those were his eyes, his slightly crooked nose. The scowl he wore during his soccer matches. That was him. The resemblance was akin to that of perfection. That was before your hands snatched away the sketchbook before you quickly slammed it closed, cheeks blazing red, "that's-- I swear I"m not a creep, I-- I just do that for practice--" "It's amazing." Your head-- which had been bowed this entire time for fear that anger would be his response -- shot up in surprise, "what?" "It's amazing," Sunwoo repeated. He wouldn't mind repeating it forever, he realized, if that meant he got to see that aforable blush of yours. He reached out with his hand, "can I look at it again?" So you allowed him after some slight hesitation, and if he noticed, he didn't comment. Fingers brushing against yours slightly, he handled the sketchbook with utmost care as he flipped through the pages with child-like awe. He'd seen your drawings, sure, but mere glimpses here and there, a sneak peek, always accompanied with the fear of being found. But now, he could take his time and actually relish in the soft tracings of your crayon, admire the gentle shadings that made up the tip of his nose. You had managed to capture that frown -- the one he used whenever he concentrated -- to perfection and for a minute he swore he'd fallen in love with himself. "You're really good," he murmured, though that definitely banalized the array of praises popping through his head, "you should keep doing them. I mean it." "So, you're not--" you paused, "mad?" "Well I think you'd have more reason to be mad if you knew I was stalking you from before." "What?" Oh Sunwoo, you idiot. Your eyes had tripled their size and you were looking at him like he'd just grown a second head. He lifted his hands as defence, "that sounded so much better in my head. I swear I'm not that creepy, or a stalker, I just--well you're always drawing and I got curious but I can't really come over and tell you to show me so I had to hide and peek and--" You burst out laughing in his face and despite the fact that he was the cause, he couldn't help joining in with a small chuckle, a grin spreading across his features at how alive you looked at this very moment. "You can ask me next time," your grin settled into a soft smile, "I don't bite." "Your words, not mine," he said, tone lighter and teasing. He helped you gather your belongings and as the pair of you started towards the school gates, he asked for your name. "Y/N," you answered, "and you?" "Sunwoo," he noticed the sky was darkening into purple, a sign that twilight was approaching. Usually, he'd be in a hurry to catch the last bus of the evening to avoid the pain of traffic after six. But it was like his body was slowing down on its own to join your pace, as if he was automatically tuning in to the rhythm of your steps. He found he didn't mind. "So why athletes? Any special reason why you like drawing them?" He asked as you reached the gates. "I just like watching the way they move. It's ...graceful," a hand went to rub the back of your neck, "and they come in handy for figure practice." "I mean, we're not that graceful when you're on the pitch ready to get blown away," he chuckled, "but thanks. At least we know we don't play like animals." "Oh god no. The volleyball team's pretty good. The rugby team on the other hand..." you sigh before you shake your head, "that team is nearly impossible to draw." His shoulders shook as he laughed, "well I don't think they aim for graceful. They look like a pack of wild dogs. Even I don't understand how they play." You had reached the said bus stop by then before you spotted your mother's car along the sidewalk, "oh, my mom's here," you turn to him, "where do you live? Maybe we can drop you--" Meeting your mom? On the first day of meeting you? Sunwoo's hands flew up, shaking them wildly in response, "oh no no, that's not necessary. I'll see you tomorrow!" Thank god for the bus that pulled up at the right time so that he didn't have to linger longer than he needed to. But he didn't miss the small wave of your hand as you watched him go, the smile on your face warming his heart even when it was one of the coldest winter days of the year. From that day onwards, Sunwoo made it a must to make his presence known whenever you were deep in your sketches, always observing, sometimes silently keeping you company and sometimes getting so wrapped up in conversation that your pens would lay forgotten by your bag as you bantered back and forth about subjects that would've made people throw you looks of concern. It became routine to have Sunwoo's head pop up from behind the bleachers or to see him walk up the path to your special hiding spot, right where your gaze would meet the tennis court. You sketched him more and more, folding your drawings into your bag so that he wouldn't see although the urge to catch his face on paper was a growing addiction you couldn't ignore. Even your friends had noticed his lingering presence, proceeding to prod you with questions reflecting their curiosity. "He's from the vòlleyball team isn't he?" Yeji asked one time during lunch, upon noticing the way the said young man's stare lingered over the back of your head before turning away just as quickly, "do you know him?" "We've spoken once or twice." "How do you know him?" Your other friend, Saeron, nudged you with a wriggle of her brows. You brushed her teasing away, "we bumped into each other and then he saw my drawings." "Oh right, you do sketch athletes," Yeji leaned forward, mouth full of bread, "did you sketch him?" "I did, actually." "Oh awkward," Saeron giggled, "he's handsome though, can't deny that. You gotta introduce us sometime." You mumbled out an agreement even though you sat with them just for the sake of having people around. It wasn't that you didn't appreciate them. You did. But they seemed to speak a language you couldn't quite grasp. You would rather sit in your own silence, enjoy your own company if that made sense. Maybe that was why it was so surprising, that you allowed Sunwoo to linger as long as he wanted to. There was something authentic about the way he reacted to your words, an unguarded expression that made you comfortable enough to speak up without fear of judgment. Spending time with Sunwoo was listening to water trickle down the river. Smooth and free. Peaceful. But Sunwoo seldom knew of your high regards, was not aware of the tiny sketch of his figure in mid-spike that was hidden in the pocket of your school skirt so that you could take a peek whenever you felt out of place or nervous. It calmed you down to admire his composure, even if his expression was a mere mimic that could not replace reality. "Do you have any material in particular that you like to use?" Sunwoo asked one cloudy afternoon, breaking the silence while huddling a little closer to peek at your newest sketch of Lee Juyeon; a basketball star player known for his quick reflexes and adept playing style. Not only was his skill on par with that of a Nationals team, but his looks had garnered him quite a fanbase from the get-go. Sunwoo would've liked to say that he wasn't jealous of the way your thumb gently applied shade to Juyeon's lower lip. But the spike in the middle of his chest proved him otherwise. "I like charcoal the most, it's the easiest to work with," pausing to admire your work, your eyes glanced over at him, "do you draw?" He scoffed, "like a five year old." "Wanna try?" "No way. I'll ruin it. I'm okay with admiring it from afar." You hummed an unknown tune as you pulled back your sketchbook, "how is practice?" "Alright. Could be better. We won a practice match last week so we're kind of taking it easy." "That's good though isn't it?" Your gaze met his. His eyes were various gradients of warm maroon and you wished-- at this very moment -- to paint his features into memory. That was when you realized how close you were. You shuffled slightly back and didn't notice the frown Sunwoo threw you in response, "it is. And I'm happy we get to rest. The team deserves it." "You're pursuing it in College?" Your eyes tried not to linger too much over his lips, "volleyball, I mean." "Depends," he smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes, "if we make it to the Nationals." "You will." "Someone's confident," he chuckled. "Well I'm no pro but even I can tell you're talented, Sunwoo," you peeked at him from behind your fringe, glad that you could blame the cold for your red cheeks when just the intensity and closeness of his entity made you want to squirm, "so if there's anyone who can do it, it's you." It was impossible to keep eye contact after such a confession. You lowered your gaze, glad for your sketchbook that acted as a distraction. It was at that very moment that the paper tucked so neatly in your pocket slipped out, causing Sunwoo to quickly make a grab for it. You made a noise of protest before trying to snatch it back, but the boy only chuckled before unfolding the creased page so that there he was, depicted in all his glory. "Is that--" his voice was hoarse and you took this as your chance to steal it from his grasp, reddened cheeks burning and fingers shaking as you folded it back to its tiny square shape, "is that me?" "Y--yes." "You--you keep that with you?" "I--I do," you lifted your chin up defiantly, though you felt your limbs trembling. His eyes, they pierced your own, piecing together a coherence that caused your stomach to fill with butterflies. When he spoke next, his words were a mere murmur. "Why?" "I--I don't know," eyes darting towards the ground, you mumbled, "I just like watching you...play." A pause. Then, Sunwoo shifted a little bit closer. "You like watching me play? Or do you like," he cocked his head, "watching me?" If you were red before then you were probably the colour of a fire engine truck by now. Averting your eyes and turning your head away were instinctive responses due to the blood rushing through your face. "Stop flirting with me," came your mumble. Laughing softly in response, he scooted himself a little closer, so close that his shoulder brushed your back. He leaned over, head tilted to catch your expression. "Cute," his lips broke out in a crooked grin and you swore you felt your heart explode. Flustered, you shoved him away out of instinct but he wasn't having any of that. His hand grabbed your wrists and with a yelp, you were dragged even closer to his chest. "You like looking at me that much huh?" His tone was teasing while his eyes glimmered with playful mischief, "why is that,Y/N?" "You ask as if you don't know," you mumbled out through jumbled words and you were glad he actually understood you. But instead of laughing some more, his features softened into a smile instead as he proceeded to gaze down at you with an expression you couldn't quite place. It was in your normal behaviour to admire people. Not the other way around. And at this very moment, you felt way out of your comfort zone. "I don't know." Your orbs flew up to his in surprise and what you found in those coffee-coloured pupils made your breath stutter, heat coiling through your abdomen. "It...it calms me down," your whisper was barely louder than a breath but by the way Sunwoo's smile widens to reach his eyes, you could tell he heard you just fine. "I like watching you too," he replied. A strand of your hair caught in the wind and he raised his hand to curl it around the back of your ear, his touch ghosting with sparks wherever flesh bumped into flesh. You felt warm. He didn't pull away. Didn't bother hiding the slight dust of pink in his cheeks either, as he slowly allowed his palm to cradle the side of your face. Gently. As if he feared you might run away, recoil back. But you didn't. Even with your breaths going staccato, even if your heart felt like a wild animal. You calmed yourself down with the knowledge that he seemed just as nervous as you were and suddenly, out of a stroke of boldness, your hand went up to hold on to his, pressing it close to your cheek. His breath hitched. You shivered. The wind blew against your figures, a gentle reminder that the day was coming to an end. You weren't exactly sure what changed that day. There were no verbal agreements, nothing that suggested your relationship had changed. Yet, the subtle touches of his hand against your back, your shoulders, moving your hair from one shoulder to another, complemented by his gentle doe-eyed stare that made your toes curl, these changes were small, but significant. And you couldn't find it in your heart to say that you disliked it. What are we? The words lingered at the tip of your tongue, as bitter as the aftertaste of coffee as you stole small glances in his direction. You were sitting comfortably under a tree that overlooked the tennis court where Sunwoo had decided to join you. He'd fallen asleep halfway through your beginning sketch and was now leaning against the tree trunk, face relaxed and body leaned towards yours, close enough that you could admire his face. Countless hours you had spent tracing Sunwoo's features on paper. Countless times you had imagined tracing his lips with your thumb, wondered whether they were as soft as they looked. Maybe it was just curiosity or maybe you had let him walk into your heart so easily that you hadn't realized it yourself. But if there was one thing you could swear your heart upon it would be that you could no longer imagine every day without Sunwoo's presence at your side. As if on instinct, your fingers took a life of their own as they reached up to push a few strands away from his face. They gently carved a path down his cheek, landing at the corner of his jaw. Dangerously close to his open mouth. There was no denying it. Sunwoo was beautiful. Handsome. Had those features on par to that of a model's. You were so focused on edging your way to touch his lower lip that you didn't realize you had been staring, until you glanced up to see his brown orbs fixated on yours. You froze. Shit. "Like what you see?" He murmured. Then, before you could scramble back and probably run with your tail between your legs, his own hand grasped your own and he pushed himself off the trunk before his head angled towards yours, finding your lips. Soft. Sunwoo's lips were soft. You panicked. Not used to the closeness. The fire that sparked between your lids. But his other hand went to clasp your jaw, holding you close as he kissed your next protest away and unconsciously brushing his thumb against your cheek. Shivering in his touch, there was no running away from the way his mouth molded against yours so snugly, and you didn’t want to. You found yourself addicted to the sweet pressure of his upper lip meeting your lower ones and soon enough -- without realizing -- you melted into his touch. 

Sunwoo made a noise that sounded like a soft grunt, his other hand lacing around your waist to pull you closer so that you tumbled halfway into his lap. With embarrassment suddenly flooding through you, you let out a squeak that he answered with a chuckle of his own before distracting you once more with a series of kisses that left you gasping.

Your hands, initially balled into fists in your lap, went to rest against his chest and you didn’t realize that you were gripping onto his school shirt until you parted for air. Only were you aware of your compromising position, of the hard ridges of the young man’s thighs, of the firmness of his chest against your palms, of the way he seemed to be so much bigger than you even though he was a lean athlete, meant to be light and as speedy as the wind. 

Breaths coming out ragged, you tried to slow the beating of your heart. Though it seemed to be quite the challenge, given how lovingly, how intense, Sunwoo seemed to be in making love to your neck, nibbling on your pulse point and causing a soft whimper to fall from your lips. 

A whistle blew in the distance.

The soccer team. They’d be crawling up the hill any minute now.

“Sunwoo,” you breathed out, eyes hazy with mixed feelings of desire and embarrassment. You feebly tried pushing against his chest, to no avail. He merely groaned, head tilting upwards to catch your mouth into another kiss. 

“Sunwoo,” you groaned against his lips. But he held on for dear life, one hand clasping the back of your neck, tangled into your locks. The other around your waist, pressing you as close as he could possibly get you to be. 

“Just one more,” he mumbled in-between kisses, hooded eyes fluttering closed and head slanting to kiss you a little deeper, a little harder.

Your body was on fire. You weren’t used to this intimacy, nor all of the affection he was raining down upon you. 

But it felt good. It felt amazing. Eye-opening.

He finally relented after what seemed like an eternity and you quickly made a move to scramble out of his lap. Though he wasn’t having any of that, grip made of iron as he held on. You looked up to snap at him to let go before everyone saw but was faced with his pout instead, which was enough to bring down your defences. 

“Please,” his pout deepened and your heart practically vaulted through your chest. Cute. Cute. Cute. Stop. Burying his face into your neck, he whispered, “I just wanna hold you.” 

So he did. And thank god the team had decided to take a different route so that you would avoid their imploring, questioning gazes. Though Sunwoo admitted that he’d already known they would go up from the other side of the gymnasium, considering they did that every other week to train their stamina in the process. 

That earned him a light smack on the side of his head, making him whine, “What did I do to deserve this Y/N?” 

“You knew!” You wanted to throw him a glare, but it was impossible when you were busy fighting the grin spreading across your face. 

He grinned back at you, that crooked smile that always resulted in a burst of butterflies roaring through your abdomen. Just like now. 

“So, since you have a drawing of me that you keep staring at every day--” his words died into laughter when you tried smacking his arm, proceeding to cage your wrist with his hand before kissing your knuckles. You squirmed as he continued, “does that mean I can get a picture of you?”

You let out a noise of protest, “that depends,” you mumbled, unconsciously finding refuge in his neck.

Chuckling, Sunwoo grasped your chin lightly to pull you back so that his brown orbs gazed right into yours with a gentleness that had you weak at the knees, “on what?” 

“On what I get in return.” 

“What if I say I’ll take you on a date?” he said wickedly. 

You couldn’t help your smile. 

“I guess that could work.” 

[pars-ley]

hi! i just came across your page the other day and i’ve read all of your drabbles and stories multiple times lol! so for my ask, i would love it if you did a college AU with popularjock!jk and have it be similar to the movie ‘A Cinderella Story’. some angst with smut and a happy ending if possible! oh and bestfriendjimin! as well :) hope this is not too much to request! ily

At the stroke of Midnight

Pairing: Jungkook x f reader

Summary: One popular boy + One 'uncool' girl + One school dance + One necklace left behind = A cinderella story.

Genre: Angst / Fluff / Smut / Cinderella au / A Cinderella story au / comedy / popular jock jungkook / best friend Jimin

Warnings: Suggestive language / sex 

Rating: 18+ (NSFW)

Word Count: 4k

Beta reader: @casuallyimagining

A/N: I am so sorry this has taken me so long! I had no clue about this film, so writing this entailed some research and me watching the movie...twice haha. I really hope I did it justice for you and you enjoy it. Thank you for the request!

"So, what's prince charming saying now that's so much more important than your best friend?" Jimin pouts, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.

You flush slightly. "He wants to meet." Grimacing at the words.

"And that's a problem, why?" 

You bury your head in your hands. "Because I'm me and I'm certainly no one special, what if he's disappointed?" You groan, the dilemma churning your gut and making you feel like your breakfast could make a second appearance.

"Hey," Jimin scoots closer to you along the bench and throws an arm around your shoulder. "No best friend of mine gets away with speaking about herself like that. You are lovely, and if he thinks you're anything other than amazing, there's something wrong with him and he needs to be studied in a lab." 

You laugh in spite of yourself, hearing Jimin’s words rattle around in your brain, knowing that you should not be this hard on yourself. You lean into his snug embrace.

You open up Tumblr and stare at the conversation between you and @gameoverguk. Your favourite gaming blog you’ve followed for ages, by chance seeing your gaming fan art and following you back was one thing, but conversing with him and finding out that he also attended your school was a completely different matter. Trying to solve the equation of who this mysterious creator might be is harder than you thought. And the way he converses with you, so open and honest and sweet, that had to narrow it down surely?

Something slams into your back, pain immediately in its wake. You and Jimin turn to see the popular boy of your university, Jungkook, gawking at you and his best friend Taehyung in hysterics. 

Jimin looks down in the grass behind you at the offending apple and calls, “Hey, watch it guys.”

“Really sorry!” Jungkook calls over, a slight dusting of scarlet across his cheeks but looks like he’s also fighting a laugh. It burns you how someone so smug can still be so handsome, and you hate yourself for even thinking about him in any way other than the airhead jock that he is. 

Taehyung jogs over and picks it up, still somewhat amused. “What, didn’t your crystal ball tell you that was gonna happen?” He says to you, loud enough for everyone in a mile radius to hear.

You cringe inwardly, attempting to fight your embarrassment.

“Aren’t you supposed to be one of the top athletes in this university? And you can’t even catch an apple.” Jimin snarks in your defense.

His face drops as he looks like he’s about to take a step towards you both.

“Tae!” Jungkook calls, an air of command in his voice, breaking the tense air as he looks away from you ruefully. Walking off with Taehyung following, eating his apple and laughing between bites.

“Ignore them.” Jimin says sternly. “Speaking of, are you working tonight?”

Your face falls into an unamused expression, as if he even had to ask.

You were working so much you were almost taking residence at your step-mums 'magic shop', as everyone called it.

He smiles at you, his nose wrinkling, and you can’t help your face softening.

“Ok, ok, my bad. Can I swing by later? I need some more incense.”

You shrug, grabbing your bag and chucking it over your shoulder. “Sure. I’d be glad of the company to be honest.”

“Ooooh, maybe we could do a seance?” 

You glare at him and head off to class causing his melodious laugh to ring out around you.

Sitting in the bleachers after class, with your sketchpad and pencil, the perfect view of the city line and the departing sun staring back at you, you sketch away. The pencil etching fast across your paper as you manage to block out the sounds of the team practicing and their bodies crashing against each other.

Long after you've lost yourself in your landscape, fingers grey and shiny from shading, you neglect to hear some of the team members leaving, climbing over the seats and headed in your direction. That is until your pad is snatched from underneath you as you frantically grapple for it, without success.

"You know, this isn't where the nerds hang out." Taehyung smirks at his two other buddies, clearly impressed with himself.

You let out a bored sigh. "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize you owned the bleachers." Your words drip with sarcasm. 

His face drops and a mean glare spreads across his features as he throws your drawing pad in the air. You watch helplessly as the pages flutter in the wind as it flies away and disappears under the stands. 

"Have a nice night." He says quietly, an attempt to be intimidating, as him and his friends leave.

Your veins alight with fury, hands balled into fists at your sides. You wanted to stamp your feet like a petulant child. This isn't fair. Why you?

It's only then you notice Jeon Jungkook standing on the field watching. Embarrassment suddenly extinguishes your angry flames as he breaks your gaze first, walking off under the bleachers. You grab your bag to leave for work before you suffer any more humiliation.

As you reach the last step you yelp with surprise as Jungkook appears suddenly in your view, you manage to steel yourself before tumbling into him.

You stare at him, wishing he'd get on with it and tease you so you can go...but it doesn't come. Instead he hands you your sketchpad, gently dusting off the pages.

You take it, a hesitant, "thanks," ghosts from your lips.

"I'm sorry about him." He says quietly.

You shrug. "Not your fault, I guess."

Seconds tick by as you both stare awkwardly at each other, unsure what else could be said.

"You're pretty. I-I mean, it-it's pretty." He stammers, tapping the unfinished sketch in your book. "You're very talented." 

Your cheeks flush an undignified fuchsia as you duck your head slightly, letting your hair hide you. "Thank you."

He offers you a weak smile before giving you a halfhearted wave and jogging off across the field, leaving you watching his back, perplexed at the exchange you've had.

You stare at your messages, every moment he can see you're online and not replying makes your cheeks flush crimson and makes your mind run frantic.

Meet me at the Happy Holidays dance.

Could you?

It’s the first holiday dance your university has put on--one you had no intention of going to, because you frankly didn't need the added teasing from the popular kids. It is a masquerade ball however, so no one had to know it was you, you could fall pleasantly under the radar.

Were you really considering this? 

What did you have to lose? You can hide behind the comfort of your mask. If he discovers it's you, it's his problem if he doesn't like that, Jimin is absolutely right.

Ok. Where will I find you?

You press send and chuck your phone down, throwing your head in your pillow to scream. Did you actually just do that!? No taking it back now, it's out there. 

When you hear your text tone sound you scramble quickly back to it.

By the old sundial outside. At 10.00?

You grin dorkishly at your phone, typing a quick reply.

Sure. See you then.

You call your number one speed dial, two rings in and Jimin's voice sounds. 

"I was just going to call you, how strange. Listen, do you remember that time I-?"

"I'm in need of some urgent assistance. I just agreed to go to the holiday dance!"

He cackles excitedly on the other end. "I'll be right over!"

As you step out of Jimin's car you have to lift your ice blue dress up to avoid the floor...and tripping. How Jimin pulled this costume together in time, you'll never know, he's taking that secret to the grave. 

You swallow the nervous lump in your throat and adjust your matching lace mask, making sure it's comfortable.

"Ok, go get him tiger." He roars, as he swipes a clawed hand in front of you.

You giggle at his silly antics and take a deep breath before giving him a final nod and heading into the dance.

From the moment you walk in, you want to go home. This is a bad idea. He won't be interested when he finds out it's really you.

You have no time to continue your anguished thoughts as you get swept up in the crowd, fighting your way through to grab a drink. Standing to the side and surveying everyone's costumes, noticing a lot of dark or bright colour choices, you being one of the only people in a pale colour, making you stand out more. Something you were definitely hoping to avoid.

A few songs later and the clock in the hall catches your eye, noticing you had fifteen minutes until you meet your mystery man.

You head outside, footsteps echoing along the cobbled floor, and see that the outside is empty save for a few smoking and talking. 

You get to the large, metal sundial and wait. Stomach churning from the butterflies that swarm wildly inside. 

"Blue hour artist?" You hear your Tumblr tag spoken behind you and freeze. 

You're about to meet him, come face to face with the person who understands you more than anyone, who opens up to you in ways most people wouldn't and who's creativity knows no bounds.

You turn slowly, not knowing who to expect but definitely not who you're faced with.

"Jeon Jungkook!? You're 'game over guk'?" You ask, your mouth popped open in shock.

He smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, "that's not fair, you're wearing a mask. How will I know who you are?" 

You stare at him, trying to find words to answer his question, but the fact that it's him stood before you blows you away.

How could this be? The person you've been talking to online is the complete opposite to Jungkook and yet, here he is, one and the same.

"You'll h-have to guess." You try to get yourself together.

His mouth stretches into a toothy smile. "Ok, how about we play '21 questions' to help me guess?"

You nod, playing with your fingernails out of nerves.

"Do you want to sit down?" He asks, looking over at one of the benches.

"Um, no, I'd rather walk, if you don't mind?" 

"Oh, sure." He agrees eagerly and you head off down the pathway around the building. 

A few awkward side glances between the two of you and he finally asks, "Do we have any classes together?"

"No." 

"Ok, narrows it down slightly."

You take this opportunity to look at what he's wearing and he's every part the Prince charming. In a white satin shirt, with light blue trousers and a one shoulder half capelet to match, complete with silver, trim detail. Surprisingly similar to your choice of dress, what a strange coincidence.

"You take art I assume?" He asks, into the comfortable silence.

You nod. "That's an obvious one." You refer to your Tumblr page full of your fan art and projects.

He smiles bashfully and your stomach flips at the sight, feeling like a true-life Disney princess with heart eyes and birds singing above your head.

"I don't know many girls in art." He admits,

 "Ok, what about outside uni, do you go to any popular hangouts?"

Your cheeks flush, knowing you're admitting how dorky and uncool you are. "Nope."

"Ok, harder than I thought." He laughs, revealing his perfect teeth again. "Do you have a job?"

Nodding again, you play with the hem of your lace sleeve, channeling your nerves into the action.

As you're about to answer, your heel gets stuck in between the paving stone, causing you to buckle. Panic strikes you. You cannot fall over and embarrass yourself! Not when finding out who you are will be embarrassing enough. Luckily, you steady yourself against a nearby lamppost before falling on your face but at the cost of leaving your shoe stuck in the ground.

You tuck your leg up under your dress, steadying yourself against the street light, directly underneath the assaulting brightness, illuminating you like a spotlight.

Jungkook rushes over to your lonesome blue stiletto and retrieves it before crouching on one knee in front of you.

You stare at him, eyes wide and alarmed by his sudden closeness as he holds out your shoe in the most sincere way.

You bring your foot down and arch it back into its rightful holster. As you do, his fingertips graze your ankle, sending a flush of heat cascading up your body and neck, stopping only at your hairline. 

He lingers there, looking up at you with huge doe eyes, but with a severe intensity you've never noticed from him before. 

His fingers skate up your leg slightly as he rises, sending a delicious shiver through you. His fingers tips hint at your hand, you yearn to reach out and hold it, as he stands mere centimeters away from you. His intoxicating scent swirling around you like your own personal hurricane, taking your composed state and tearing through it, leaving it whimpering weakly on the ground. His face is too close to yours and yet not close enough. You feel feverish from his proximity and yet you need him closer to sate your heat.

Your breast vibrates from the aggressive pounding of your heart. Having him here on his knees in front of you, something not even acceptable in your wildest dreams and yet, here he is. 

The person you've gotten to know so well, such a contrast to the person you've seen around campus. But then again, he seems to like the person he's gotten to know too, maybe he won't be as disappointed when he realises who you are? Maybe you can kid yourself into thinking that.

A chiming sounds in the distance, barely there and yet it creeps further into your subconscious.

"Your phone is ringing." He whispers, his breath tickling your face, as his eyes still blaze into yours.

'My phone. My phone? Oh, my phone!' Your muddled thoughts clear themselves enough for you to understand his words. You pull it out of your little silver handbag and see Jimin's number on screen.

"Hello?" You ask, staring dreamily at Jungkook who is rooted firmly in his spot.

"Ok, I apologise if you're throat-deep around prince charming’s dick but I really need to make it home before midnight so my dad doesn't turn me into a pumpkin...and by that I mean, pounded, pulped and pressed into pumpkin pie." 

You snap out of it suddenly, realising Jimin's words and not wanting him to get in trouble because of you. "Of course. I'm coming, right now."

Jungkook's eyes flit back to reality with a deep frown. His hand clasps yours as you hang up and tuck your phone back into your bag. Your legs, already moving towards the front entrance where he would be waiting.

"Wait," Jungkook's pleading pierces right into your chest, feeling your resolve bubble up to the surface, enticing you to stay and see where the night takes you. But you don't.

"I can't, I have to go." You say, gently slipping your hand from his and jogging elegantly to the front parking lot.

When you see Jimin's dads silver Rolls Royce, you're suddenly eager to get in and share your news.

"So...did you meet him!?" An excited Jimin shakes your arm as you close the door behind you.

"Yes. You will never guess who he is." You fasten your belt and Jimin pulls off quickly, both of you wincing as he narrowly misses a barrier post on the way out of the campus.

"Who?" 

You smile to yourself, heart fit to burst. "Jeon Jungkook."

Jimin's foot taps on the brakes, lurching you forward.

"I'm sorry. What?" He turns to you, eyes wider than you've ever seen them. "As in, popular boy, sex god Jungkook?"

You scoff. "Who told you he was a sex god?"

"I'm making assumptions. I'm sure you'll find out soon enough." He grins as he elbows you in the ribs and sets off driving you home, while excitement rapidly blooms inside you.

You dropped your necklace.

You read the words over and over, unsure what your response should be. You needed that necklace. The simple silver chain holding the tiny teardrop pearl. It was all you had left of your dad. When he died, your step-mother sold most of his things, including gifts he bought for you. This was your last, most cherished item. The only reason you were allowed to keep it is that you were wearing it at the time and you haven't taken it off since. Losing it had your chest aching. You stared at Jungkook's last message until sleep over took you.

Monday morning. Eyes gritty and burning, you wake to the sea of sleep trying to entice you back to its darkening depths but you fight your fluttering eyelids and get ready for a new day.

How are you going to look at Jungkook now? You should tell him who you are. Yes, you'll do that and get your necklace back and it'll be happily ever after. 

Only it won't.

From your experience happily ever after doesn't happen for most people, even accomplished, brilliant, beautiful people. You're entirely average and ordinary, why would it happen for you?

By the time you get to campus, your manic mind has been changed numerous times. You decide to wait until you see him, which you spend every moment of your arrival scanning the faces that pass you.

"Hey, hey, Jelly Bean. Looking for me?" Jimin's cheerful face comes into full view, distracting you.

He's clearly unimpressed with whatever expression you're portraying currently, as he pouts and turns to the sea of faces. "Clearly, I no longer matter, now you've got big dick Jungkook."

You hush him loudly, looking around to ensure there were no listening ears. "Firstly, I'm begging you, stop talking about his dick and secondly, stop being stupid."

He laughs at your stressed rant. "Ok, ok, jeez. Is he meeting you this morning?"

Your body tenses, knowing, already hearing the lecture he's about to scold you with.

"You didn't tell him, did you? He still has no idea it's you!?" He sighs, throwing his hands in the air dramatically, typical Jimin fashion. "I swear to god...If you don't tell him, I will."

Your head snaps over to him as you walk side by side into the building, glaring menacingly in his direction. "You wouldn't dare."

He shrugs. "Try me, scaredy cat."

You huff and scrub at your tired eyes. "Let me just get through my classes then we shall discuss this."

He laughs as he tussles your hair and heads off in the opposite direction.

Your day passes fairly quickly, even though your struggle to stay awake during lectures only grows.

You do not see Jungkook, which is not unusual as you're not even in the same wings of the building most of the time.

Jimin's frantic waving has you puzzled as a deep frown creases your brow as you walk towards him, his jumping and pointing most unusual. It's only when you see a set of hands directly in front of you and feel your necklace land on your chest as it's draped across your collar bones, that you stop in your tracks. 

Those hands, warm at the back of your neck and a mouth next to your ear saying, "I told you I'd look after it and return it." Unmistakably Jungkook's voice whispers in your ear making you quiver.

When his hands are gone you look down and find relief washing over you with the familiar feel of your necklace, having felt bare and empty without it.

"Why didn't you reply to my messages?" He asks, stepping in front of you with a big bunny smile.

Wide eyed with shock, your mouth gapes open with the slow realization that he is, in fact, talking to you. "How-how did you…" Words fail you as you frantically think of any way you might have let slip your identity but coming up empty.

"How did I know it was you?" He asks, mouth pulled on one side in a smile. "When you dropped your necklace as you left the dance, I recognized it instantly. "

"Wh-what?" You squeak out. You attempt to swallow your confusion enough to form a coherent sentence. "On what planet would someone like you notice anything about someone like me."

A look of hurt flashes across his face, almost as if you'd slapped him as he takes a step towards you, a hair's width away now. "How could I not notice you? You're beautiful and smart, you don't follow the crowd and you're kind to everyone, I've noticed everything the last two years. I've just never spoken to you properly because….well...what do I have to offer someone like you, with endless talents and interests, a charming personality to boot and just when I think that's all there is, I discover something else about you. I'm just the school jock, popularity gets me opportunities, I don't have to work hard for anything...I feel...inferior to you. Worthless."

Your heart aches, hearing the words you feel escaping his mouth. How could that be possible? How on earth could he be so utterly mistaken, so completely wrong about himself?

"But gameoverguk is nothing like that person you're describing. If that's truly who you are?" You question quietly.

He nods, placing a finger under your chin and tilting your head up to him.

"Hi, I'm Jeon Jungkook, I'm a gamer geek, I'm good at sports, I enjoy bike rides on the weekend and finding new food spots and I'd really like to take you out sometime...if you'll let me."

You feel your lips stretch into an undeniable grin. "Nice to finally meet you Jungkook. I'd love to."

As you aim the plastic machine gun, keeping it steady in your armpit and pointed towards the screen, you and Jungkook race through the game, taking down your enemies at every chance. When your team name, "Blue Hour Gamer" flashes in neon letters on screen as the winners, your hollering and hooting fill the arcade. 

You don't even care that people are watching, not when you jump up and high five each other or when that high five turns into a hug, or when that hug very quickly turns into a kiss. You don't care.

You pull away quickly, embarrassment finding its way to dust your cheeks scarlet. Until you feel his hand press your lower back to him, your bodies crushing together and moving in perfect sync, making their own rhythm and inviting you to sing with it.

Heat blazes inside you like a wildfire, capturing everything else in its path and turning into thoughtless ash in the wind. Nothing else mattered, just him, his lips against yours, his hands on your skin, caressing so gently and yet setting your skin aflame.

Before you knew it, you were at his small, studio apartment, realising you had no clue he lived alone but thankful for that just the same.

When your back finds the bed, you sink into it, disappearing into a cloud of euphoria as he roams your body, slow and meaningful. Every touch makes you feel things you never have before, and every movement brings you closer to the edge of the precipice. 

The way his mouth feels on you as he explores your body sends sparks of electricity racing through you. The way he feels inside you with each perfect, controlled movement lights you up like the sunrise after dark, warming you with its rays as you stare off the cliff edge and brace yourself for the impact. His hand caresses your cheek as he looks deeply into your eyes, something so sweet and pure in the action that your chest swells with emotion. His forehead touches yours as he moves in perfect time with your pounding heart. Suddenly you're falling, everything going past in a rush before crashing onto a sea of ecstasy, writhing and moaning until your climax subsides and his has joined in unison.

A tender kiss on your head, his arm winding around you, pulling you to him and encasing you in the perfect safety net is enough. Maybe he'll be your happily ever after, after all.

[bruh-im-aggro]

All the self ships eith you and Huxley 👀

👀👀👀👀

Anon ily

💡 You and your F/O switch bodies and powers for the day. What's the first thing you do?

Flower crowns. Need I say more?

🍦 You and your F/O go out to the opening of an ice cream shop. What's the first flavor you'd want to have?

Something fruity so like raspberry or something. I think Hux would like the reese's icecream or sherbert.

🏦 Things go awry at the ice cream shop opening and now thugs are robbing the place! You and you F/O manage to hide from them, but how do you escape the situation?

I'm the one sobbing and crying it's up to Huxley lmao

But no fr I would put all my trust in Huxley.

🐉 Your F/O gets turned into a dragon through hijynx. What type of dragon are they? What powers do they have?

I'm not well versed in dragons but I like to imagine hes still got the earth elemental aspect of him even as a dragon.

🍪 You tried to make a sweet surprise for you and your F/O, but something happened and now the cookies are alive!!! They've taken over the kitchen and are starting to push into the rest of the house! How do you and your F/O stop them?

Eat them ofc. Between me and Huxley? War is always won.

⏰ Somehow, through magic, time travel, worm holes, or maybe just as a non cannon idea, you meet your F/O when they were a little kid. 8-12 ish range. What are they like? How do you interact with them?

Baby Huxley 🥺

I would offer him cookies and squeeze his cheeks bc 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

👶 Switch time! Your F/O meets YOU when you were little. (Still 8-12 ish) How do they interact with younger you? How would your younger self interact with them?

My younger self would most definitely try to climb him like a tree. Hands down.

And I still would.

🖊 If your F/O were to start a collection of things, what would they horde? What would be their most prized possession? (Besides you, obviously)

Rocks/Crystals.

He would, I'm dying on this hill.

"Its A RoCk"

❤ What type of relationship do you and your F/O have? Are you prank buddies? An old married couple? What is your self ship dynamic?

The chaotic dumbass and their puppy dog boyfriend.

Another hill I'm dying on

⛪ Is your F/O particularly religious? If so, which group and how dedicated are they?

I wouldn't think so 👀

But idk lmao

🛋 How do you spend time together? Are you the couple who sits in the same room, not talking and just enjoying eachother's company, or do you two go off and have dates/adventures a lot?

A both. 100%.

We do both.

🛌 How late does your F/O stay up? Who goes to bed first?

Huxley has to sleep first, I don't sleep ever and when I do, it's late in the night like 4 am.

I do nap occasionally though.

👀 You and your F/O got separated in a crowd in a store! How do you find them? Or do they find you first?

I would be panicking, I was abandoned once I cant do it again. In the store you would just hear:

"Huxley, please come get your mess on aisle three"

🌧 Not everything is perfect... So one day everything just seems to go wrong. Nothing is working out like you thought it would and people are rude. You come home angry and tired and however else a bad day makes you feel. How would your F/O comfort you, or make your day a little brighter?

Flower crowns, a bath and watching pet videos on TV while cuddling.

Thank you.

🚗 if your F/O could have any mode of transportation they wanted, what would they choose and why?

I feel like he would want one of those scooter motorcycles? Idk

Like mopeds? Idk what they're called man-

🎲 You guys are setting up a campaign in DnD, what class/race do you play? What about your F/O? Who is more likely to be the dungeon master?

You're talking to someone who has never played DnD before my guy.

I've got no clue.

[sunsetcurvecuddles]

deep inside the ever-spinning

boggie | t | 5k | sickfic, exam stress, hurt/comfort

It takes much more effort than it should for Bobby to brush his teeth and splash some cold water on his face, and by the time he’s dressed and packed his bag for the day, he desperately wants to just climb back into bed and have it be over with. Honestly, he probably shouldn’t drive himself to school, with how disoriented he is, how slow his reflexes are, but he does it anyway. Because he can’t miss class, not if he wants to avoid failing Algebra 2, and he really does want to avoid it, despite everything.

(Maybe just to make Reggie proud of him, but whatever. That’s not, like, the only reason. It’s just a large percentage of the reason).

Or, sometimes Bobby's stress gives him fevers. At least Reggie's looking out for him.

ao3 link in the reblogs! thanks to lilly @chickwiththepurpleguitar for cheerleading and morgan @weneedglitter for the fantastic beta-reading, ily guys

[vintagedolan]

mint chocolate

you’ve been in love with ethan since the early days of your childhood friendship, but what happens when it’s too late to tell him?

word count: 5k

warnings/tags: fluffy fluff lets go ladies

also shoutout to @gloriousgrant​ for this request, ily bby!!

feel free to send in requests! and check out my masterlist if you wanna :)

An elephant’s memory. That’s what your mom had always said - you had an elephant’s memory. Never forgot a detail, a friend, a face. Which is why you could still remember the first halloween party you ever got invited to, all the way back in preschool, as clearly as you could remember what you had for breakfast yesterday.

You didn’t remember the party though, but that was because you didn’t go. It had been a simple decision once you’d found out from eavesdropping on the mom gossip that only 33 of the 35 kids from your class had gotten the cute personalized invitations in the mail. 

Your four year old self said it best - “If etee and gray aren’t going, I’s not going.”

You didn’t realize until you were older that you words had made Lisa cry, overwhelmed and grateful that her boys had a friend at school when everyone seemed to be against them. So, she’d decided to make it the best halloween that she possibly could for her kids, and for you. 

And thus, over way too much sugary candy, smores, trick or treating and the watchful eyes of your mom and Lisa, the trio was born on Halloween night, 2004.

The three of you held strong through elementary school - sat next to each other until the teacher separated you for talking too much, shared your lunches every day. Lisa would even send an extra piece of candy on Friday’s for you in Ethan’s lunch - little pieces of mint chocolate that they kept at the salon for clients. Recess was always your favorite time, because the boys were wild, always finding something more fun than the playground equipment, like trees to climb or hills to roll down. You were fine with that - there were too many kids on the playground anyways. And when little scrawny David tried to kiss you at the top of the slide Ethan shoved him down, getting himself time out for the next three days.

You sat with him in the mulch every day until he was allowed to play again. 

Middle school was where the bumps in the road came along. Grayson went, in his mother’s words, ‘girl crazy’, and in his brother’s words, he ‘became a player’. Turns out, middle school girls don’t trust their boyfriends to have girl best friends, and Grayson fell into the trap, desperate to people please and get a date to the dance. Every time he broke up with them he’d come back, apologize, want to be your friend again, and you let him, because you loved him, even if he was a dick sometimes. 

Ethan was another story. Sure, he had a few 6th grade girlfriends who constituted an after school hug as a date, but the first negative thing they said about you had him bounding down the hallway to your locker to reassure you that he was, once again, a ‘single pringle’.

With Grayson off having Lisa drive him and the girl of the month to the fro-yo shop twice a week, it left space for you and Ethan to get even closer than you already were. You took stupid pictures on his families computer, edited them to high heaven with the strongest contrast and put stupidly fonted “<3″ and “bffz foreva” all around your faces, set them as your blackberry backgrounds. You watched movie reruns and renamed the characters and talked about how Ethan wanted to be an actor someday. You played hide and seek in the Dolan’s backyard, always giving away your hiding spot when one of you got too spooked and ran to the other one. You were allowed to spend the night if you stayed in the living room, which meant you took the couch, Ethan took the floor, and usually Grayson ended up curled up in the recliner, wanting to be a part of the fun once he got home and realized he was missing out. 

Things got worse in 8th grade. The bullying was incessant with the boys growing popularity on vine, and since the three of you were always seen as a unit of sorts, you got pulled into it. There were so many jeers in the hallways that you couldn’t keep track of them. The trio reunited, Grayson clinging to you as one of the few friends he could trust. It became texts of ‘lets eat lunch by the band room, no one will bother us over there’ and ‘hey, I heard Jillian earlier, u ok?” snuck under science room tables. You got suspended for punching a guy who wouldn’t shut his mouth about Ethan in September - your parents were pissed but you didn’t care - no one was going to fuck with your friends. 

Your reprieves were after school when you could hang out like you always had... well, after they got done with football or lacrosse or wrestling practice. They’d come home sweaty, smelling like gym mats, texting you to come over. If your mom couldn’t take you over Lisa would come pick you up - even Cameron got you a few times, acting like it was a chore but secretly glad that her brothers had someone, anyone, to rely on. You went to every single one of their games and matches, wrote 47 and 8 on your cheeks in face paint and yelled as loud as you could, ate celebratory ice cream with them when they won. 

Things got, somehow, even worse freshman year of high school. The bullying was even more intense, with threats posed against both of them, and against you. Ethan got secretive for the first time in his entire friendship with you. One minute he was even more clingy than usual, and the next day he was quiet and distant. It took you calling him out on it one night for him to finally fess up.

And it was those four painful words that made you realize that you were in love with Ethan Dolan.

“We’re moving to LA.”

You cried. Ethan cried. Grayson cried. Lisa cried. 

But you dried your tears, put on a brave face, told him how proud you were of him, of both of them. They were chasing their dreams, making it happen for themselves in a way that you could only admire. What type of friend would you be if you tried to hold them back?

You made the most of the last month that they were still in New Jersey, hanging out every minute that you could, helping them look at apartments in LA online, watching them film videos for their channel, supporting them every step of the way. 

You lost track of how many times you had to reassure Ethan that you’d be fine in high school without him, even if it wasn’t true. He’d told you over and over to just pretend like you weren’t friends with them anymore - anything to get the bullying to stop. You told him no way in hell. 

You stayed the night at the Dolan’s house in October, the night before they got on the plane to move out. It was fun, an early halloween celebration of sorts, mixed with a going away party that had you laughing as much as it had you crying. 

The real kicker came around midnight, after Grayson had fallen asleep in the chair that he was much too big for now, and you and Ethan were left in the silence. 

“I’m gonna miss you. So much. I don’t know what life looks like without you,” you admitted with teary eyes, toying with his fingers.

“I’m gonna miss you more. But I’ll always be here to visit, and it’ll be just like old times.”

You doubted that, but you weren’t going to say it. The thought of not seeing him everyday, having him so far away, surrounded by new people, new girls - it put a lump in your throat that you couldn’t quite get the words “I’m in love with you” around. You’d realized that it was more than just friendship for you as soon as he told you he was leaving - but you couldn’t bring yourself to put that on him when he already felt guilty enough for leaving you behind.

So you just nodded at his promises of flying you out to LA when they got enough money, showing you all around California, tried to believe him when he said you were always going to be his number one, and fell asleep against his chest. 

You rode with them to the airport, held their hands the whole way in the backseat and kept your head held high as you hugged them and sent them through security.

You sobbed the whole way home. Even after you managed to pull yourself together a little bit, when you got that made it, miss you already text that signaled they had landed that night, a whole new wave of tears made their appearance. 

You knew it would be hard, but you didn’t realize just how lonely you were going to be without both of them, but especially Ethan at your side. 

But there was a silver lining.

It was in those next few months that you realized that Ethan always kept his promises. He facetimed you whenever he could, showed you around their apartment, asked you to explain how to make mac and cheese cause he was ‘gonna starve’. He sent you pictures of everywhere cool he visited in LA, even sent you postcards sometimes just for fun. And when he came to visit a month later he stopped at your house first, knocking incessantly until you opened the door and threw your arms around him. Once the tears had stopped - the ones you let flow and the ones he blinked back, he reached into his bag and pulled something out.

“Look what I found in the airport in LA. Your favorite.” He placed the mint chocolate bar in your hands with a grin, proud of himself for putting such a big smile on your face. 

And so, the tradition began. 

Every time he came back to New Jersey he was on your doorstep, and every time he brought you one of those little chocolate bars. It didn’t matter that he was home to see his family, because any time you brought it up he’d wave you off, reassure you that ‘you are family bub’, making you fall more and more in love with him every time. 

When he had the money, he flew you out to California, showed you all his favorite places. He took you to the beach, on hikes, made sure you got the full cali experience with him at your side.

There were times over the years where he visited less, or visited more. But It didn’t matter if it’d been a week or 3 months since you’d seen him - the butterflies were all the same when you saw him again. 

You were sure to catch up each time you reunited, going down the list of everything you might of missed, even if you still talked every day. It went like so:

One: how’s the channel going? To which he would ask “how’s school?”

Two: any new friends? He’d ask the same.

And then came question number three, your least favorite:

Got a girlfriend?

You’d wait with bated breath every time, sighing out in secret relief when he’d say “nah, don’t have time” or “no, LA girls are weird”. And then you’d go on with whatever you had planned that day, whether it was just hanging around your old Jersey stomping grounds or sit in your room, and eventually your apartment when you moved out, heart a bit lighter.

Maybe that’s why it hurt so bad on his last visit when he’d hesitated on that question, looked down at his hands.

The most painful four words you’d been told changed that afternoon, when he finally answered.

“Yeah, I do actually.” 

You’d always known it was going to happen eventually - you’d been preparing for it in the back of your mind for a while now. You saw the comments on every post he made, the replies to his tweets, thousands and thousands of adoring girls, and it only grew every single day. Maybe it had been dumb to think that he’d ever realize just how in love with him you were, dumb to think that maybe, maybe, he saw you that way too. 

So, you put on your brave face, forced that smile to spread over your face and ran through the motions.

“Really?! What, since when?!” had never sounded faker than when they came out of your mouth, laced with false enthusiasm. 

And you listened to him tell you all about her, Allison, a girl he’d met at an LA party that he didn’t want to go to. You nodded at the right times, smiled and asked questions you didn’t care to know the answers to. 

You secretly wished hearts made a noise when they broke - maybe it would have stopped the conversation, saved you from having to see his face light up when he said her name, the blush that spread across his cheeks when he told you about his first date with her. 

Three months passed - and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t run at least part of that conversation through your head every day since you had it. It was nice that Ethan wasn’t the type to put his relationship out to the public - a front row seat would only make it worse, you were sure. 

You decided it was time to try, to really try to find someone that wasn’t Ethan. Sure, you’d talked to people in the past, but you’d never gone all in when trying to find someone to be with, because, well, there was really only one on your mind anyways. 

Which was why it was weird to answer one of Ethan’s usual what’re you up to this week texts with not much, work, hanging out with my parents, got a date tomorrow night. You all still working on the candle launch stuff?

At his kitchen counter in LA, Ethan frowned as he read it. Date.

“What?” Grayson asked, reading his twin’s face as he washed the pans from dinner.

“Y/N’s going on a date.” 

“Huh. Well, good for her,” he shrugged, looking down at the water running over his hands, eyes flickering up to Ethan’s face, trying to figure out if he should say what he’s thinking. Fuck it, if he gets pissed he gets pissed. “How do you feel about that?”

That got Ethan’s attention off his phone screen.

“How do I feel about that? What’s that supposed to mean?” The defensiveness in his tone had Gray tensing up a bit.

“It’s just a question bro.” 

“I have a girlfriend Grayson.” 

Grayson stopped scrubbing, annoyed at his brother’s tone. He’d tried to be supportive, loving - but he was getting tired of Ethan complaining about his relationship woes and not doing anything about it. 

“Yeah, who you said you wanted to break up with twice last week, for the record. And you’re the one that brought up Y/N, not me,” he pointed out, knowing that if he was already gonna piss his brother off, he might as well say everything he wanted to say. 

“You never liked Allison,” Ethan snapped.

“Fuckin facts, cause she’s manipulative and fake.”

“No she isn’t.” He threw Grayson a glare, pressing his hands together until his knuckles popped.

“If you actually believed that you would have hit back with an actual argument just now. I mean jesus Ethan, she told you you couldn’t go back to see Y/N for god’s sake. That used to be your fuckin’ dealbreaker back in the day, why would you put up with that shit now?” 

“I didn’t put up with it, I told her it wasn’t negotiable and I went to Jersey anyways!” He was yelling now, hands gripping the edge of the counter.

“Yeah, and then she gave you the silent treatment for a week when you got back like a fuckin’ six year old. That’s some middle school shit and you know it E. You don’t have to put up with that, you can find somebody who treats you better.” 

“Will you fucking stop Grayson?” He threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “I’ve got enough shit going on right now, I don’t need you in my head too.” 

“Fine. But friends don’t get jealous when their friends go on dates, especially not when that friend is across the fucking country. Just so you know.” He watched his brother put his face in his hands and felt that familiar pang in heart that made him add a “I’ll be in my room if you wanna talk about it” before he walked out.

Grayson had mastered the art of keeping tabs on Ethan without him knowing. So even from his room he heard him leave, and based on how long he sat in the driveway with the car running, he knew exactly where he was going.

So, he wasn’t fully surprised when Ethan came into his room three hours later without knocking and laid down on his bed next to him without a word, staring up at the ceiling.

“So...”

“So.” Ethan repeated. 

“Did you uh...”

“Break up with her?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, I did.” 

“Cool. How’d she take it.”

“About exactly how you'd expect.”

“Ugly sobbing?”

“So much ugly sobbing.” 

“Sounds on brand.”

The conversation faded into silence, only the hum of the fan spinning in the corner filling the room. Grayson let it go on for a few minutes before he spoke up again.

“So.”

“So.”

“You goin’ back to Jersey?”

Ethan perked up at that one, sitting up slightly and turning so he could look at his brother. He quirked an eyebrow, waiting for the explanation. 

“C’mon bro. You can’t act like Y/N doesn’t have anything to do with this. I mean, you should have dropped Allison a while ago, but it’s not a coincidence that the idea of Y/N going on a date was what made you do it now. You should just tell her how you feel. Put it all on the table.”

He pondered that for a minute, staring up at the white ceiling.

“I hate sharing a brain with you, you fuck,” were the words he eventually chose, rolling over and pulling out his phone. Grayson smirked when he saw what he searched - American Airlines.

“Not my fault we split into two goops.”

Ethan typed in the flight plan he’d done more than any other - LAX -> EWR. 4 hours and 56 minute, like usual. There was one leaving in just over an hour and a half, and the knot that formed in his stomach was all too familiar. It came around every time he waited on the doorstep of her apartment in New Jersey, waited for her to show up at the door with that bright smile that had never changed, never wavered. He’d do anything to have her smiling like that all the time.

“Maybe I shouldn’t do this.” 

Grayson’s brows furrowed, knitting together above his eyes. “What?”

“What if she gets mad that I ruined her date. I don’t wanna fuck that up for her. She could be happy with the guy.” The words tasted like metal on his tongue. 

“Oh c’mon Ethan. She’s only dating somebody because you’re dating somebody. Well, were, I guess.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know how she feels about me.”

“You’re forgetting that I’ve been her friend for just as long as you have. You just gotta trust me on this bro. It’s not a coincidence that she starts going on dates when you tell her you’ve got a girl.”

“So many coincidences,” Ethan huffed.

“So many not coincidences,” Grayson corrected, raising his eyebrows and waiting for him to give in. 

“Am I just supposed to show up at her house? I’m not gonna get to Jersey until-” he did the time change math that was second nature by now “- shit, like 2am? That’s kinda sus.”

“Right, because showing up at her house isn’t the first thing you do every time we go home anyways.” Grayson rolled his eyes. “What time’s the flight?” 

“In like an hour and a half.”

“We can make it, just pack a bag real quick, I’ll start the car up.”

“Okay. Okay.” Ethan nodded, standing up and waiting for a minute before he fully decided that holy shit, he was finally gonna do this, and then he was running down the hall towards his room.

“And don’t wear shorts! Put on some fuckin’ pants and look decent at least!” Grayson called after him with a grin.

“I can dress myself bro, fuck off!” 

It turns out, Ludacris mode on a tesla comes in handy when you’re trying not to miss a flight. They sped all the way to LAX, barely time for a hug and a “text me when you get there” before Ethan was running through TSA precheck and barely making the last boarding call of Flight 8333. He took the numbers as a sign that he was doing the right thing, that everything was going to work out.

The nerves really hit when he got settled in his seat on the plane, tattooed thigh bouncing on the floor, covered by his Louis pants. His shoes didn’t match the outfit very well, but there was nothing he could do about it now. He hadn’t had much time to do anything but run through the terminals - he hoped he didn’t stink, didn’t forget anything.

Fuck. The chocolate. 

He twitched in his seat, ready to run back out and head to that little convenience store where the manager knew his name, knew he was only there to get a diet root beer for the flight and a mint chocolate bar. But it was no use - the place was probably closed, and it wasn’t like he could get off the plane anyways.

So he put his headphones in, turned on his playlist and closed his eyes as they started to taxi down the runway, praying that maybe he could sleep. Behind his eyelids, memories of you played like a mixture between a slideshow and a movie - little snippets and still images of times he had committed to memory, swore he would never forget.  

You, with your toes in the California sand for the first time, so excited to see the beach and the ocean waves crashing, face lighting up as you ran towards the water. Your fourth grade halloween costume - the first year the three of you had coordinated, all of you going as little skeletons. Sitting in the middle school hallway with lunch balanced carefully on your legs, swapping sandwiches and laughs. You hugging him goodbye when he left for LA, how he never wanted to let go, wished he could take you with him more than anything else. Every visit, every time he counted down the days before he could make it back to see you.

He couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t in love with you, wasn’t trying to convince himself that it would be wrong to ask you to try long distance, wrong to ‘hold you back’ or ask you to support someone, to love someone, so far away. It almost felt childish now, the thought that the two of you were going to end up with anybody else. His nerves prickled at the daunting task that he knew was awaiting him when the plane wheels touched down again, so he focused on your face instead, trying to breathe.

It was both the longest and quickest flight of his life somehow. 

He got a rental car - it was no smooth cat, but it would do - text Grayson that he was safe, and headed out in the familiar direction of your apartment before he could stop himself. He hadn’t made it four minutes down the interstate when the rain started falling, slow at first until it grew into a downpour that was roaring against the car. 

His wipers worked double time, keeping his windshield just clear enough for him to find his way to your parking lot. 

Heart in his throat, he threw his door open, stepping out into the rain before he could talk himself into turning around, jogging to your door and knocking.

In your bed, your eyes shot open. You waited for another knock, heart beating fast when you heard it, and then the constant rhythm of them afterwards. You rolled over, checked your phone.

2:16am.

“Who in the fuck,” you grumbled, sitting up and rubbing at your eyes as you headed out the door of your room in your pajamas, confused and concerned. If it was your drunk neighbor again, you were going to kill him. 

Popping up on your tiptoes, you peeked through the peep hole, breath catching in your throat. 

There was no way.

You blinked hard, looked again.

You knew that face, and you threw the door open, relief and panic playing tug of war on your heartbeat.

“Ethan? What- what the hell are you doing here? Are you okay? Is something wrong?” It wasn’t unlike him to show up and surprise you, but it had never been in the middle of the night. Still, he looked perfect as always, even with his drenched hair plastered to his head and soggy clothes. 

“I’m okay.” 

“Okay... well come inside, come outta the rain,” you reached out to grab his shirt, pull him inside, but he caught your hand, holding on tightly.

“I gotta say something first, and then you can decide if you wanna let me in.” He was too formal, more serious than you were used to and it had your stomach in knots. 

“You’re scaring me a little E.” 

“Don’t be scared. It’s just me.” His eyes shone, even in the dark, with a familiarity that settled you a bit and you nodded, waiting for him to say whatever it was. 

“I don’t know why I never thought it was okay for us to love each other. No, that’s not right, that’s not what I meant to say. I... hang on.” 

He took a deep breath, rainwater spraying a bit off his lips when he pushed it out and tried again.

“A long time ago, when we were kids, I convinced myself that we couldn’t love each other, because I couldn’t handle losing you. You’ve been my rock, my only constant outside my family for my entire life, and I don’t think I would have made it without you. So I just decided that we couldn’t love each other like that. And that was selfish. Because I’ve always been in love with you I think. Back then I don’t think I realized what it was. But now, when I look back, I think that’s what it was.”

You’ve always been the person I wanna see every day, especially when I can’t. The first person I think of when I wake up, the one I’m thinking about when I go to sleep. You’re my favorite human on the whole planet, and if soulmates are real I think that’s us. I don’t know why I ever tried to be with anybody else when you were here the whole time.”

And I know it’s not fair for me to put all this on you right now, especially when you tried to be supportive of me with other girls. But that text, you telling me you were going on a date. It slapped me in the face, made me realize just what I was about to give up, what was about to slip through my fingers if I didn’t get my shit together and just tell you everything. So... here I am. I’m here, and I love you... I’m in love with you. And I just needed you to know that. I’m in love with you Y/N. Always have been. And I kinda think that you could be in love with me too. Or at least, I hope maybe you are.” 

He had been looking at you the whole time, but you saw the nerves take over as he realized everything he had just said out loud, as he watched you, waited for your reaction. 

“I...” Your brain was spinning, unable to understand how everything you’d been waiting your whole life to hear had just come out of his mouth, all at once. 

It wasn’t a conscious decision - more of an instinct. Two steps forward out into the rain and then you were throwing your arms around his neck, up on your tip toes to finally, finally, press your lips to his like you’d dreamed about doing so many times. 

Your fantasies hadn’t done it justice. He was so warm, so familiar, so Ethan. His hands went to your waist, fingers curling and pulling you against him as he leaned in so hard that you leaned back with him, smiling as your hands came around to hold his face, hold him to you, unwilling for the moment to ever end. 

You didn’t even notice the rain.

“Am I dreaming?” You hadn’t meant to say it out loud but it slipped past your lips anyways, making Ethan’s chest swell and his smile get even brighter as he pulled back enough to look at you.

“No baby. This is real. This is us, right here, right now.” 

"No fuckin’ way,” you breathed, running your thumbs over his cheeks before he kissed you again, walking you backwards into the house and out of the downpour and over to the couch. 

“I love you. So much. Sorry I forgot your chocolate by the way,” he grinned after he sat down and pulled you onto his lap, gazing up at you like you hung the moon and stars.

“You’re so much better than mint chocolate. I love you too.” You kissed him again just because you could, relishing in the feeling of him there with you, not a worry or a care in the world.

[ennui-gt]

Here it is. A Piece Of Borrower Content Written Entirely In Stream Of Consciousness:

AN: so this is incomplete and very…needs revisions to the timeline to incorporate some things I added later! It’s the original universe that Mira’s from! I edited it like Slightly to just change Ross’s name to Ross (if u see Max anywhere that’s his old one I just felt like changing it so that’s just him but different. Anyway) Everything's under the readmore tab, cheers!

The Library Fairy:

-

Basic Plot (Chrono, comic starts from human perspective abt the ‘legend of the library fairy’ ig maybe. Nothing here is permanent cept the characterization)

Part A

1- Mira is borrower currently chillin in a college library

2- She lives off of the cafe on the second floor nd reads lots and lots of stuff about everything when the upper floors close (lower floor open 24/7 but upper floors r vacant p much after 12:00 AM)

3- she starts getting increasingly curious about human stuff cos she’s literate nd books r pry neat

4- it starts one night when she spots an unattended notebook and a half eaten blueberry muffin, nd it’s 12:30 so nobody’s coming back in atm (it’s the 80s so no laptops for the plebians quite yet)

5- so she goes ‘welp’ nd takes part of the muffin, then sees the work on the page and goes ‘hmmmm this is incorrect’ so she helps our and leaves notes here n there to point the kid in the right direction and puts down some book refs for further study bcos at this point she’s been there for 2 years and she knows where most things are

6- she stays behind to see if the human comes back for it, hidden in a hidey hole near the desk

7- human comes in, sees notebook, practically melts w relief nd stuffs it in his bag

8- next day human comes back nd leaves nother notebook and a cookie, along w a hidden camera

9- Mira goes ‘o boy, this a trap, innit’

10- Mira then decides ‘eh whatever I haven’t had contact w anyone in years now so I might as well’

11- she steals the camera film nd leaves a lil scrap of paper saying ‘nice try ;)’ on it

12- student comes back, sees paper, goes ‘dammit’, then leaves note addressed to the ‘library fairy’ and another cookie, as well as more of their work for her to help with

13- bout a decade goes by and now the “Library Fairy” is an urban myth, it’s currently 2003 so she’s also wound up on the school’s unofficial Wikipedia page under ‘local cryptids’

14- most library employees know of her but they don’t go looking out of fear stemming from superstitions bout her, somehow the legend grew from ‘can’t be photographed’ to ‘a student once saw her and died that day’

15- there’s now a small shrine devoted to her where ppl bring offerings hoping to get good grades in return, sometimes they will leave papers for her to proofread nd stuff

16- new prof (named Alexei) finds online article thinks he Knows What’s Up bcos he had a borrower friend as a kid, but they left when borrower’s fam found out about them knowing each other

17- he leaves note wedged in one of her secret entrances behind outlet, asking if she can meet w him at some point

18- Mira, already In it, goes ‘Okay. Alright. This has gone on for long enough. Time to go and never return’ but ofc she’s curious as all hell and like she decides she will at least honor the guy’s request for a convo b4 she goes, but on her terms and w/o speaking face 2 face

19- they Talk in the library after hours, bcos he paid off the janitor to let him stay after hours nd most of the student employees recognize him as a prof nd leave him alone

20- they talk again for every subsequent night

21- she uhhhh finally decides to reveal herself nd prays that her hunch was right nd he won’t try to grab her or anything

22- he doesn’t but she’s nervous so she winds up gettin caught in her own climbing rope like idiot, is now dangling from ceiling in tangled mess

23- he stifles chuckle nd she says smthn sarcastic

24- he moves closer and offers to untangle her

25- she’s like ‘please’

26- so he do, but her grip on the rope slips nd he has to catch her

26- so now she’s in his hand and he just sets her down and now he’s a bumbling embarrassed mess bcos he said he wasn’t going to hold her and he just did and o dear pls forgib him

28- nd she’s like ‘dude u just saved my life it’s fine ur fine chill’

29- internally she’s going HOLY FUCK AAAAAAA but externally, her human’s already worked up enough as it is so she’s gotta b the level headed one

29.5- after a while they both kinda get used to each other more, he gets tenure, they celebrate, some more stuff happens, Aleksei got married (not to Mira, Mira hasn’t actually rly thought about being in a relationship w anyone cos she’s laser focused on gaining as much knowledge as possible)

30- eventually Alexei’s like ‘hey so I’m dean of faculty for the biotech branch now uhhhh would u like actual job teaching students? Cos, uh, you can do it remotely thru online lectures n stuff, no in person interaction, and I uh was just kinda wondering—‘

31- she’s like ‘yes. Yes!!! LET ME HELP PEOPLE OFFICIALLY KINDA’

32- so now she’s a professor, and has revealed her Secret a few times here n there to a number of the faculty, nd she has recorded her own findings in a personal journal

33- ‘humans will treat u like a human if they think ur human first. The kids call it ‘catfishing’’

34- enter Ross, an mall goth who accidentally tripped headfirst into a premed program

35- Mira’s favorite field of study is bio so naturally she’s his prof for a majority of his classes

36- being the good boy that he is, he now knows Mira’s secret. There is an Entire Chapter on him finding out and legit just continuing their conversation as if everything was normal bcos he thought that was how he was supposed to handle the situation

37- then she says ‘u can ask questions, u know’ he’s like OH THANK FUCK CAUSE I HAVE SEVEN HUNDRED OF THOSE

38- and now he kinda knows what to look for in terms of ‘do borrowers live here check yes or no’

39-in his apartment, the answer is yes and he mistakenly kinda stumbles upon the mom one night when he wakes up in the middle of the night for Snack and opts to pretend like its not happening. Unfortunately the thing she was trying 2 borrow (piece of crumb cake for Son Boy’s birthday) is the thing he wants 2 eat so he’s like “uh. ‘Scuse me, ma’am.” and he peels back the saran wrap on the other side of the plate, takes piece, nd then leaves some there for her

40-so now the woman is like ‘welp guess it time 2 Leave’

.1- she and husband Talk

.2-they decide it best 2 go

.3-theyre Packing

.4-lil bab Ellie confused

.5-hawk attacke

.6-cut to Ross

41- Ross also happens to work at a bar and he goes outside for a break

43- he finds smal child—smol smal—on the sidewalk and said child is missing an arm, nd has lost a lot of blood, so he’s uhhhhh Losing It highkey

43.5-parents r nowhere 2 b seen, but the hawk is nearby and circling. Ross gets an idea of what just happened

44- he up and leaves work, thankfully his apartment is above the shop so he jumps up the fire escape w the child and

45- he make tourniquet

46- he calls Mira nd asks her 2 come over to ASAP. he’s A Mess at this point

47- it is Very touch and go, kid needs blood, Mira is the only viable donor so she’s just gotta pray that the blood type is fine and won’t kill him

48- and then eventually they manage 2 stave infection thru antibiotics properly dosed to his size, Mira does Math and Prays basically

49- ‘bout a month in, kid wakes up

50- kid doesn’t rember much since he’s only 3

51- hes v scared of Ross at first but over time he gets used 2 the human

52- kid (elliot) starts 2 call Ross ‘dad’ after a while

53- Ross: *internal screaming but in a good way*

54- the end kinda for now

Part 2

A- New Borrowers In The Building

—three of em. paranoid dad, mom, nd daughter that’s Elliot’s age so he’s pumped

B- Elliot offers them a place 2 stay briefly

C- he knows by now bout like, how borrowers don’t typically interact w humans and Auntie Mira’s a bit of a weird case so he just doesn’t tell em bout his dad being the human

D- the kid finds out first nd doesn’t tell the parents, but they figure it out later kinda and think that it’s a ‘o god he’s being kept as a pet’ sitch so they’re >:| abt it

E- they move out and try to take Elliot w them (by force bcos they think he’s brainwashed) but he escapes and makes it to Ross, who’s like “uhhhhhh”

F- and the mom come out the hole near the counter n starts yelling at Ross, who is…kinda used to it since Mira brings in ppl who need help from time 2 time and they typically don’t react well when they’re lucid enough to understand what’s going on. He’s just not used to being questioned about his own kid

G- so they’re like “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING WITH HIM”

H- and he’s like “r…raising him???”

I- and Ellie steps up and he’s like “this is my dad. I decided he was my dad when I was three. He’s being a good parent”

J- and Ross is like “yeah what he said. I’m a good parent.”

K- Ross is riding that high til the end of fucking time but like back to the story at hand

L- this is when the husband comes out nd is like “lissen. wifey. ily but that is a very big human and he hasn’t grabbed us yet so let’s count our blessings and gtfo”

M- but she’s like “uh no we stay until I’m sure Elliot is Safe and fucking Sound”

N- so they stay for dinner nd stick around a little longer.

O- Val (the kid) gets closer 2 Elliot and also Ross a bit

P- Mira shows once or twice, first time she shows up they’re like “oh god it’s the crazy doctor lady this all makes sense now” (bcos Mira does check up on as many borrower families as possible in her free time so word has got around by now Of her, and the number by which to contact her in case her services r needed)

Q- After a month or so, then they decide to leave bcos they’re like “look we get that ur son is ur son and he only has one arm and in our profession that is kind of a death sentence but we can’t have our kid getting used to dealing w humans who know about our existence” so they go and leave on a kind of sour note bcos Ellie can do anything he wants to do just as well as any other borrower Thank You Very Much and Ross is ready to fite anyone who thinks otherwise

R- Elliot starts trying 2 b more independent, basically from now on he’s like ‘I can do everything my Damn Self Thanks’

S- but uh he does it to a point where he’s going out of the way to endanger himself

T- so they get into a fite about it and ross Yells and Elliot is like ‘kthxbye’

U- and the boi just. Fuckin bolts. Runs Away. Ross is a Mess, he starts smoking again (he quit cold turkey the day he took Elliot in) to curb the depression, he’s jus. Not doin good, worried that his son is dead and the last time they talked it’d ended badly

V- FREEDOM!!!1! Except Ellie doesn’t kno how to take care of himself so it’s a rough month or so and then he runs into some other borrowers livin in their own town in the wild ig, chillin, being hella independent, and he’s like “uh yes ofc I will join u, I was w my dad for a while but.........” he neither confirms nor denies that his dad’s dead but everyone kinda just assumes.

Part 3

W-anyway a year goes by and then the borrower group gets hit hard w some kind of sickness ig. Elliot gets it too he’s basically incapacitated n drifting in and out of lucidity. So. They contact the weird crazy doctor lady who hangs around humans, a.k.a. Mira, and she’s like “oh. fuck. I know this kid.” bcos she does, u kno, and she jus treats em all for their ailment and shows them how to make antibiotic poultice thing in case smthn like it happens again. Mold. Penicillin is basically what it is

X-she and Elliot hav a Chat (Mira basically yells at him a lot) once he’s fixed up and he decides he’s gonna visit his dad but he makes it very clear that he is a Grown Up (he’s not, he’s literally sixteen), and he is living on his own now

Y- he agrees to stay for a week tho since he misses his home a lot tbh and Ross is just. Over the fucking moon to know he’s ALIVE, he’s not gonna fuck up their relationship by insisting that he stay. Or like, by keeping him ofc he would never

Z- unfortunately the borrower community put two and two together and figured out his dad’s human so they have his stuff packed up when he gets back w mira, who’s ready to go the fuck off on them

End 1:

-Ellie is living at Ross’s place atm and hopeful about the future basically. He eventually will go off on his own but he’ll keep in contact w his dad and stuff

Part C.5

55- few yrs later

56- elliot is Adult now he does adult borrower stuff

57- he moves out

58- finds nice borrower gf (her name’s Tess)

59- doesn’t tell her about his dad being human but talks about his dad a LOT

60- so when she asks to meet said father he’s just like “uh. Maybe we don’t do that actually”

61- and she’s like “y tho”

62- and he’s like “bcos”

63- anyway she decides to look into it cos she knows he goes to see his dad nd keep in touch but his dad is allegedly “a recluse who lives in the big scary human’s walls to avoid other ppl”

64- which is. Not true in the slightest tbqh he’s def not an introvert he’s just a workaholic and he Is the big scary human

65- anywho they run into Val and her wife and she’s like “how’s Ross been?” And Elliot is acting Very Suspish so she, being Smart, calls it immediately and is like “oh shit u haven’t told her yet have u”

66- Tess: “told me what”

67- Val: “El’s dad is a human, bro.”

68- Tess: “I’m sorry?”

69- this results in a Big Fight and they separate for like, a month. Elliot blames Val bcos he’s being irrational and doesn’t wanna admit to the fact that lying to his girlfriend for over a year was Real Bad Actually, but over time he’s like ‘yeah it’s my fault sry for snapping at u’ cos he works thru his emotions n stuff

70- Eventually gf comes back cos she’s like “ok so. I understand why you lied to me about your dad. It was a dick move but I do get it and I still care about you a lot. I would like. To meet him.”

80- this is a lie she does not want to meet him she is doing this bcos she does not want to lose Elliot and that outweighs the fear of his dad

81- so they go to meet him but she’s just kinda. Behind the wall at first like “that’s a crazy big human this is crazy ur crazy it’s time to gO”

82- Val is also there bcos she hasn’t seen Ross in a while

83- they eventually coax her out of hiding

84- and by that I mean Val picks her up and drags her out into the open by force bcos she basically freezes up the second she catches sight of Ross and Val’s like “u didn’t come all this way for nothing, bich”

85- they have a Painfully Awkward First Meeting, Tess is trying her best but oh god he’s just too fucking. Larg. Ellie ur dad too big

86- tbh tho the ice kinda breaks after Ellie and Ross get into a fight over smthn stupid (im thinking Elliot grumbles bout Ross’s hair being unruly and he’s worried that mira’s using it like a personal storage system again and Ross is like “I’ve been keeping better track of that actually” and then like a little line of paper clips and a few hand-bound notebooks tied together w some string fall out of his fucking mane and he’s like “I can explain”

87- “dad you can’t keep letting her use your hair like a fucking NEST”

88- Tess is laughing now cos god damn this was not what she was expecting

89- that’s it the end it ends w Tess laughing at them being idiots good times r had by all

Uhhhh that’s it so far. I have More but it’s kinda jumbled rn and I need to fit stuff in places. Anyway.

[theoceanfaewriter]

Laws and Lattes

Merry Christmas @clockworkgraystairs!! Have a Manorian coffee shop au as your cliche little Christmas gift 😂 Thank you for all the scheming (as well as screaming. coughs in the infernal devices) and help with other fics. ily!

Dorian was 28 years old and had long since given up on finding love in a coffee shop.  A coffee shop.  He was the youngest politician in the country, for fuck’s sake.

When the magic ink showed up on his wrist at midnight on his 18th birthday, he'd guffawed at Chaol who'd waited up with him, ever the believer in this soulmate crap.  In miniscule white, bubbly letters, the words "Hi.  Welcome to Starbucks, may I take your order?"  Great.  That was really just his luck.  Just 2 weeks before, Chaol's wrist had been emblazoned with "Not tonight, buddy.  I'm just a girl in a bar tonight."  She sounded like a fun girl.

Suffice it to say, considering that he was born and raised in New York then moved to Seattle, he'd seen more than his fair share of the chain's stores.  For the first couple of years, he'd replied to every hot barista's greeting with "Is it you?" and secretly prayed that none of the more homely ones would perk up after hearing his order.  By the time he'd graduated university, he'd given up.

When he walked into the establishment at 4th and Pine, he glanced down at his wrist and rolled his eyes, joining the queue.

-

At midnight on her 18th birthday, Manon Blackbeak sat in a circle with her half sisters, Asterin and Vesta, and her little sister Sorrel.  When "I'm sorry, no, I just got called into a city meeting," appeared on her wrist in sloppy, harsh lettering, Asterin and Vesta let out excited squeals, while Sorrel just rolled her eyes.  

The three of them had decided ages ago that they were all going to be surgeons like Asterin and Vesta's mom.  "So, that settles that, then.  Political science is a definite."

“You were supposed to come to the dark side," Asterin growled, climbing into her little sister's lap and nearly knocking her over.  She was already in her first year of Med School and Manon's hero.  Somehow, she was managing to take care of Asterin, who was still in high school, and their ailing mother, all while managing to progress in her classes at UW.  Manon remembered the long, teary phone call with her the week before her graduation from Dartmouth, telling her about her mother's diagnosis, and how she'd have to forgo Northwestern and settle for UW, citing that at least she'd be nearer to her.  It had taken its toll on her, but by then, almost a full year from that phone call, you could hardly tell.  

Even though she seemed genuinely happy for Manon's definitive first-words, it still stung that her tattoo had merely said "Excuse me."  

While she herself was a sophomore in College already by then, having skipped grades when she was younger, Manon wasn't sure that surgery was where she was headed, despite being pre-med.  That merely sealed the deal.

She'd only gotten this job to kill time and save up a few dollars while waiting for her internship at the hospital to start.  She just knew that she wasn't going to meet the love of her life in a coffee shop.  How cliche and boring would that be?  Still, it was cute the amount of young adults who came in, eyeing her suspiciously and asking some variation on "Are you her?" after her company-standard greeting with a wanton desperation, only to deflate when she shook her head sadly.  That just wouldn't be it for her.  

She knew that it was frustrating.  She saw it in the way Asterin had flinched every time a stranger moved around her on the street or tried to get her attention in a bar up until the night before she started her internship.  The fact that he turned out to be a surgeon and her boss proved only to be a minor stumbling block the next morning.

That was all going to come to a close for Manon soon.  She could feel it.  She was going to be a kickass politician and find her equally kickass politician spouse.  The fact that this was her last shift just made it all that much better.

Despite all that, she couldn't help but notice the ridiculously sexy, brooding man that just walked in and secretly mourned that her tattoo didn't read something like "Doppio Espresso and a coffee cake, please."  After a moment, she let it go.

The line progressed efficiently and there he was in front of her and, god, he was even more beautiful up close, she thought, but found herself interrupted by the sharp chirp of an old school pager.  Pager, she thought cheerfully. Politicians use those!  Returning to reality, she found herself absently chorusing the typical greeting, "Hi. Welcome to Starbucks, may I take your order."

The words didn't seem to rouse the man from the device.  "I'm sorry, no, I just got called into a city meeting," he answered and turned and walked out just like that.  

Manon's heart hammered away in her chest as the next guest babbled their long, frothy order at her, but it was irrelevant.  She hadn't heard a word they'd said.  Turning away, she waved over a coworker and pointed at the register, before she retreated into the back of the store.  Holy shit.  She'd met her soulmate in a coffee shop.  And as quickly as he'd come, he was gone.

-

That night, Manon cried in her sister's arms, describing him over and over to Asterin in perfect detail thanks to her photographic memory, and swearing she hadn't made him up.  "His first words defined who I'd become.  What if this was it?  What if I'm destined to be alone because I let him walk out?" she hiccuped.  "What if he's my soulmate but I'm not his?  Can that happen?"

"No, Manon," Asterin cooed.  "That doesn’t happen.”

It was only after the 5th time that it clicked in her head.  "What time did you say it was?"  

Sniffling pathetically, she answered "8:11".  

"And, you said he was tall, with salt and pepper hair?" she asked, straightening herself out in front of her and putting her hands out on her shoulders.

She nodded a little.

"Do you love me?" Asterin asked her sister, question met with an indignant grunt.  "Come in early for your shift tomorrow.  There's someone I want you to meet.  Get some sleep, hon."  With little more argument, Manon headed up the stairs and into bed.  As soon as she was certain she was out of earshot, Mer reached into her pocket and called her own soulmate, remembering how she'd bonded with someone over having a generic tattoo, but how she'd assured him that his soulmate probably had something great because he would be so sick of listening for it.  "Chaol, are you busy?"

-

Morning light changes people.  When she woke up, Manon felt incredibly stupid.  Obviously, that couldn't have been him.  She had a lifetime full of customers in front of her.  The chance of meeting a politician and her soulmate in a Starbucks?  Slim.  Infinitesimal, even.  That didn't change the fact that Asterin's persistence in getting her in early this morning was thoroughly irritating.

"Just trust me," had been the incessant refrain.  "You won't regret it."  She couldn't help but take her sister's urgence as a slight mockery of her reaction the night before.

Rolling her eyes, Manon sighed impatiently, "I'm fine."  She grabbed her coat off the hook and headed for the door.  "Really, this isn't necessary."

She merely smiled, practically pushing her to the car.

-

"This is stupid," Dorian moaned from where Chaol had him lodged in the hallway.  "Why do I have to be here to meet your stupid girlfriend's stupid little sister?

His best friend smiled his normal 'because-I-know-what's-best-for-you-dipshit' smile, and answered "To humor me?  Besides," he urged, "You never know.  She might be fun to hang around."

He turned away from his best friend coldly, rolling his eyes and burying his shoulder in the wall, having decided that he wasn't just going to stare at the elevator like a chump.

-

Leaning against the handrail, Manon groaned "This is stupid."  She couldn't believe she'd had her sleep cut back an hour before work. “You know I'm going to be here later than anyone else.  Why did you have to make it even longer?"  She missed her bed already and they weren’t even out of the car.

"Because you trust me.  And I'm your evil big sister."  Who you're going to thank endlessly in 5... 4... 3... 2...

-

The elevator dinged and the two girls left the car and Asterin dragged Manon straight for the men leaning against the wall with an absurd amount of pep.  She couldn't even bring herself to mind that her little sister seemed more interested in her shoelaces.  

"Hey, beautiful," he started, planting a chaste kiss to his girlfriend's cheek.  "Manon," Chaol greeted, swatting at Dorian to get his attention.   

Asterin smiled, bumping her hip against her sister.  "Manon, this is Dorian.  He's the senator here."  From his posture, Asterin wondered if he'd fallen asleep.

She looked up with her standard friendly smile and stopped cold, jaw suddenly lax.  She recognized him instantly. The guy from yesterday. Glancing between her sister and Chaol, not sure what to do.  Chaol tapped his wrist and pointed at Dorian.  Asterin nodded and whispered "Say it."

Her tongue grew thick in her mouth.  She shrugged at Chaol.  She knew what she'd said to him, obviously, but all she was sure of was that what he said was on her wrist.  She decided to give it a shot.  She tapped Dorian on the shoulder and repeated the company line one final time:  "Hi.  Welcome to Starbucks, may I take your order?"

The older man whipped around and stared at the girl, ready to lay into her, until he realized that she was holding her wrist out to him.  He read the words in his handwriting over and over again, trying to place why they sounded so familiar until it clicked.  Starbucks yesterday.  When he'd ran out, that's what he said to the barista.  He hadn't even thought to look up before he took off.  Now, he wished more than anything he had.

After the brief silence grew to an uncomfortable length, she repositioned her hand from showing the white ink on her wrist to offering it to Dorian.  "Manon Blackbeak."

"Dorian," he fumbled, reaching out to shake it.  He stared at her for a long time, like he couldn't believe after all this time that she was real.

She smiled, pulling his hand closer and looking down at the etching inside his wrist.  Her handwriting.  Those words.  "I thought I'd never see you again after you ran out of there."

"Guess it was meant to be," he answered.  In that moment, some 10 years after his ink showed up, Dorian really, firmly believed in soulmates.

TOG taglist: @sevenfreckles-for-sevenloves @starborn-faerie-queen @addies-invisible-life

[come-on-shitty-boys]

//Kissing Headcannons//

Characters:  Tsukishima Kei / Sawamura Daichi / Nishinoya Yuu

Request: Hellooo Maddi!! I hope you're doing well and taking care of yourself! 💞 This is sorta random but you know those kissing hcs you did with Tanaka and Tendou? Could I request some with Tsukki, Daichi, Nishinoya, and Bokuto? (Am soft rn and I wanna kith them so bad 🥺👉👈) If that's too many then you can just pick however many you wanna do! Thanks queen, ily!! <3

Warnings: some swearing

Word Count: 1.5K (~500 a piece)

Notes: please this isn’t random i wanted to do more of these and i’ve just been waiting for someone to tell me to do more

Tsukishima Kei

Listen, Tsukki always tries to play it cool, trying to be suave, but his first kiss with you had him p a n i c k i n g

He kept telling himself that it didn’t matter, but this was his first kiss ever and what if you had kissed someone before and thought he was shit just because he was inexperienced?

He was definitely added into a group chat with Kuroo, Bokuto, and Akaashi where Bokuto and Kuroo just hype him up and try to convince him to just fucking kiss you already

Tsukishima just wanted them off of his back.  Don’t get me wrong, he also wanted to finally kiss you, but please they ask him every single day.  He just wants to say, “Yes, I kissed them.  Leave me alone.”

Kdhfesifb he’s walking you home when it happens.  It’s dark and you just look so pretty all illuminated by the street lamps that he just stops and takes your chin between his thumb and index finger

He’s got some dumbass smirk on his face because you’re looking up at him like a deer caught in the headlights.  Tsukki won’t lie.  He thought that was super cute.

But he lifts your face towards his, leaning down to give you this really gentle kiss, nothing like you ever would’ve expected from him. And he wants to call you an idiot when he pulls away, but he’s so fucking flustered that best he can do is bring his hand up to his lips and look away from you.

He really thought he was slick, looking away from you to hide his blush.  Smh everyone knows that you’re blushing like an absolute fool, Tsukishima.  It’s okay.

He doesn’t mind leaning down to kiss you.  If anything, he likes having to lean down.  He thinks that your height difference is kind of cute, no matter how big or small it is.  

Tsukishima gets so embarrassed about kissing you??? Literally what for?  But when he’s feeling especially like an angsty teen, he’ll playfully kinda shove you away after.  People think it’s rude, but you know him too well.  So, please.  Tease the shit out of him every single time he does that.  

He likes to hold your chin because it makes him feel in charge, but if you slide your hands down his chest and over his stomach?  He’s going to get weak in the knees and it’s not fair that you have that effect on him, because he’s supposed to get you weak >:C

If you instigate the kiss, he’s going to make fun of you for being needy and he’ll joke that if you want it so badly, you have to work for it, because he’s not going to lean down for it.  But, give it like two minutes of you jumping or trying to climb him and he’ll roll his eyes and bend down to kiss you.

Sawamura Daichi

SIT IN HIS LAP AND GIVE HIM SMOOCHES

anyway.  That’s a topic for later.

Daichi is so damn soft with you g o o d b y e i do not take criticism on this one thing (and kuroo driving a prius that is also non-negotiable onyx)

He likes to sling an arm around your shoulders or your waist and pull you in towards him to give you a quick kiss.

I just want to make it known that Daichi doesn’t do small kisses.  Oh no.  Every kiss is a full kiss.  A peck? Nay. A K I S S

God, he’s so cute.  He gets so flushed every time he kisses you and sometimes after a s p i c y kiss, he’s really breathless, chest kinda heaving as his forehead is pressed against yours, that tiny sheepish smile on his face.

When it came to first kisses, Daichi really had no shame.  I don’t know, I feel like he’s not the kind of guy to get overly embarrassed when it comes to his relationship.  He loves you a lot and he’s really happy to be with you.  Why should he be embarrassed to show you affection?

THIS BOY DID IT IN THE MORNING BEFORE CLASSES P L E A S E

He walks you down the hall to your classroom every morning and he was telling you goodbye before going to his own room and he just kinda?? Did it?? Right there.  In the middle of the hallway.  For the entire third year class to see.

Not that he cared, of course.

He said, “I’ll see you at lunch, okay?  Bye” and just leaned down and k i s s e d you and walked off like you two didn’t just have your first kiss.  So you just have to sit there all morning having a crisis because you’re so in shock that you think you’ve dreamed it all up.

OKAY BACK TO THE LAP THING BECAUSE SITTING IN HIS LAP MAKES ME VERY HEAD EMPTY

Ahem

Daichi really likes when you sit in his lap and face him, your legs wrapped around his torso.  Yeah, that’s his shit

N e way.  If you grab his face and kiss him like that?  He has never been more in love with you.  He’ll hold your hips and if your hands leave his face to rest on his shoulders or his broad chest?? Daichi . exe has stopped responding.  His head is spinning but it’s not like he cares

Please touch his chest when you guys kiss?? Like.  please. That is genuinely all he wants you to do.  Just rest your hands on his pecs.

Sometimes, when you guys are just standing around or walking home after he’s done with practice, he’ll put his hand on the top of your head and kinda?? Stop you?? Idk.  But he’ll lean over and give you a kiss

Everytime daichi pulls away dkfheisf please i’m so soft thinking about his little smile as he slowly opens his eyes

Oh to live in a world where i could kiss daichi *sigh*

Nishinoya Yuu

Nishinoya loves to kiss you.  And I mean loves to kiss you.  He loves absolutely peppering your face and hands and neck and any skin he can get with all of these itty bitty kisses.

I know that we’ve seen Nishinoya be completely shameless around Kiyoko, but I think he almost views her as unattainable?  So he doesn’t really care?  But with you-

A flustered m e s s.  He’s nervous and blushing and you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but he just slams his lips into yours, holding your face really tight squishing your cheeks.  When he pulls back, he stares at you with wide eyes, repeating to himself that he can’t believe he just did that.

He’ll try to wipe his mouth.  Not because he didn’t like it, but because now he’s worried that you hate him because he just kissed you out of the blue like that.

But your voice speaking his name is so soft and it makes him stop to look at you.  Your hands on his cheeks, pulling him back in for that second kiss?  Please, he has never felt anything better.  

Nishinoya is a bit of a rough kisser??  I’m talking like he’s always giving open mouth, kinda sloppy kisses?  He’s bitten you on more than one occasion.  Never enough to really hurt, but enough to take you by surprise that he actually bit you?

But sometimes, when Noya is feeling especially soft, he takes things really slow.  Running his thumbs over your cheeks, telling you beautiful are, how happy he is to be with you, how much he loves you, all while leaning closer until you can feel his lips moving against yours everytime he speaks.  Eventually, he’ll finally push his lips to yours and it feels like you’re on cloud nine.

His hands are soft and you love how they feel cupped around the curves of your face.  They’ll eventually snake back to the back of your head to touch your hair or try to pull you even closer to him.  

Nishinoya will melt if you hold onto his arms while you kiss.  If your hands are wrapped around his forearms or his wrists, he’s going to be a puddle on the ground in a matter of minutes.  

He kisses your nose a lot.  Noya finds it to be extra cute when you scrunch up your features and kind of pout at him about it.  He’s genuinely so in love with you?  He thinks you’re the absolute cutest thing he has ever laid eyes on, so of course, whenever you scrunch up your nose, he’s just going to kiss it again.  Is it your ploy to get more kisses out of him?  M a y b  e

But nishinoya won’t object to kissing you over and over again, that’s for sure.

{Taglist: @moncymonce @nicka-nell @celosiiaa​ @lovinnoya​ @kuronekomama​ and @madison-2018​ i am once again telling you to come collect your mans}

[jenniferxprentiss]

I Don’t Know Anything (But I Know I Miss You)

Chapter One: Born From Just One Single Glance

read it on ao3 here

hi!

me? writing a gay gay high school au instead of dealing with my issues? more likely than you think

thanks to my crackheads for letting me bounce ideas off you guys, thanks for being my hype girls ily all so much 💞 @f-m27 @heat-waveee @criminalmindsgonewrong @whiskey-fluent (@ everyone else lmk if you want to be on a tag list)

that’s it!! enjoy!!

———————

The sun was bright and hot, shining down on the turf and making it scalding to the touch. There were only a few weeks until the school year started and every sports team was out practicing in the hot August sun.

“Break! Go hydrate and we’ll come back for more drills.”

JJ groaned, jogging off to her bag and grabbing her water bottle and downing a few sips. She mustered up enough energy to wave at Aaron and call him over to her bag.

“Hotch! Over here!”

He jogged over, dopey smile on his face as sweat cascaded down his face in rivulets. JJ made a face, snatching the towel in his hands and using it to wipe her face off. She flopped down in the grass beside her bag, throwing a water bottle at Aaron and giggling when he fumbled it.

“It’s so hot and Coach Rossi wants us to practice another hour.”

“Lucky. Coach Gideon said at least two more for us. Got a bunch of freshman on the team this year.”

They sat in silence for a moment, JJ laying on her back, tanned stomach peeking through her shirt. Hotch pinched her and she yelped, smacking at his hand, but her annoyance turned to a small smile at the way he laughed.

They had been friends since they were born, practically, having lived two houses apart their entire lives. Aaron was still the only boy who could make JJ smile, the only boy who ever cared about her in return. When he got his license before her, he would pick her up for school and wait on her after soccer. The thought brought a small smile to her face, then a frown when she thought about the fact that this was it - the last year they were carefree kids enjoying high school and sports and parties.

The last year they were kids without worrying too much about the future.

The thought of schools and classes made JJ groan, earning herself a confused look from Aaron - it was typical, he was always a little bit confused. JJ blamed it on all the concussions from football. It always made her glad she chose a safer sport than oiled up boys in padding beating the fire out of each other.

“What’re you thinking about?”

“Hm?” JJ pushed up to her forearms, looking over at Aaron. “Oh. I have French this year and I’m totally going to fail. I need a tutor.”

“I’ll ask Em for you!” His dopey grin was enough to have JJ say yes to anything and he knew it - used it to his advantage. “She’s super smart at all of that foreign stuff because of her mom. I don’t know why you don’t hang out with me when I’m with her.”

The tiny frown on Hotch’s face was enough to make JJ feel bad, but not bad enough. She always felt like she was overstepping when she hung out with them together, and she was a little scared of Emily anyways. Her friends were the worst, the kinds of girls that made fun of Penny for being into theater and Spence for being weird, whatever that meant.

“I don’t know, Hotch.”

“She’s not an asshole. I swear she’s really being nice to you - she’s trying to be your friend.”

The sharp pierce of a whistle in the air made them jump, heads snapping in the direction of the field. Their coaches were staring at them, both wearing similar expressions of annoyance.

“Hotchner! Jareau! Social hour is over. Get on the field!” Coach Gideon bellowed, eyes squinting in the sun.

As JJ jogged off, she had never been more thankful for Coach Rossi’s bad timing.

———————

It felt like hours later when they were finally done with their drills for the day, the sun setting and casting a gorgeous pink orange glow on the field. JJ and Hotch packed their bags up side by side, taking off their equipment and cleats and moaning about how hot it had been.

“Hi guys! JJ, are you riding home with us?”

Emily. She was everything JJ wanted to be in a purely social sense, the perfect cheerleader with the perfect ponytail and perfect boyfriend.

Her face was flushed, a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead and pink bag slung over her shoulder. Her bangs were stuck to her forehead, the rest of her hair pulled back into a ponytail. JJ wanted to scoff at her outfit - a sports bra and tiny shorts - but she didn’t want to create problems with Aaron.

“Uh, I was going to. Or I could walk…”

“No!” Hotch cleared his throat, grabbing his and JJ’s bags before starting the walk to the parking lot. “I mean no, you’re riding with us. Why do you get so weird?”

“Why do you insist I’m the third wheel?” JJ’s retort lacked the annoyance she truly felt, too tired and sweaty to fight with him.

“Hey.” Emily placed a hand on JJ’s shoulder and bless her, tried her best to hide her grimace at the amount of sweat on JJ and Aaron both. “You can ride with us, you can hang out with us. It’s not weird.”

JJ felt the familiar pull of guilt in her stomach as she walked behind Aaron towards his car. She hated that he could make her do just about anything with the way he shot her a dopey smile and shook out his shaggy, dark hair.

“So Emily, JJ needs a French tutor.”

“Oh, I was just mentioning it, you really don’t —“

Emily stopped, turning to look at JJ with a hard, steely look in her eyes. Her gaze was captivating and JJ wanted to fall in, to believe anything she was about to say but she couldn’t - it was too dangerous to tread this with her best friend’s pretty girlfriend.

“I will. You’re practically Aaron’s sister, I don’t get why you’re so scared of me.”

They climbed into the car, JJ shaking her head and chuckling out a laugh under her breath. It made her laugh to think that Emily thought about her that much, in between her busy schedule of being popular and making fun of all the losers like her.

“I’m not scared of you.” She paused, puffing up her cheeks and exhaled slowly. Why did Emily always challenge her like this? “But if I was scared of you, it would probably be the way you carry yourself like a badass and that your friends make fun of my friends.”

Shit. Why did she just say that?

“I’m not like them.”

There was something unspoken about Emily’s tone, turning her face and staring out the window of the car. It confused JJ, the subtext that she didn’t quite understand because god, didn’t everyone want to be as popular and pretty and rich as her?

“I didn’t say you were.”

“Jayje, do you mind if I drop you first?”

She shook her head, already buried in her phone and trying to escape the awkward exchange with Emily. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her - they just had nothing in common besides Aaron.

The car was quiet for the rest of their drive, Emily staring out the window with her hands folded in her lap. JJ glanced up at her every few seconds, perplexed by the fact that she wasn’t immersed in her phone and what was probably twenty different group chats with the popular kids. She looked tired, but not in a physical sense, and it made JJ furrow her brow at the split second thought that Emily was anything but happy with her perfect life.

They pulled up to her house and JJ nearly jumped out, thankful for the exit from the awkward silence and constantly switching stations of the radio, Emily’s deft fingers spinning the dial their entire ride but never settling on anything. She was halfway to her front door, soccer bag slung over her shoulder when she heard Emily’s voice call out to her, head peeking out the passenger window.

“Jennifer, wait!”

JJ turned around, ignoring the formality of her full name. Emily was waving at her with a ridiculous half smile and an energy JJ had never seen from her. She jogged back to the car, nearly groaning at the pain in her thighs and calves, stopping outside the window.

“My number… so you can take me up on that tutoring.”

She had a lopsided little half smile that brought a flush to JJ’s cheeks for some weird reason, face burning and heart flopping at the way she signed her name with a little heart, the way she scrawled her name and number out in a sparkly purple gel pen.

“Ms Callahan has us practicing at the gym until school starts, so I didn’t know if I’d get the chance to tell you… anyways, text me? We can set something up.”

JJ nodded dumbly, she was sure the expression on her face was priceless - slack jaw and blushing because holy shit, Emily was serious about tutoring her? She didn’t fear the inevitable social suicide?

Maybe Emily was right, she wasn’t like her friends.

“Thanks! I’ll um, I’ll catch you later.” She walked backwards up her driveway, unable to tear her eyes away from the goofy smile on both Emily and Aaron’s lips. “Bye, guys! Have a good evening!”

She jogged up the front steps and into her house, only allowing herself to exhale when Aaron’s car pulled away because shit, what was that stupid giddy feeling in her chest? JJ sunk down, back sliding down the door as she sat and stared at the paper in her hands.

Oh shit.

She couldn’t have a crush on Hotch’s girlfriend just because she was nice to her one time.