#did I spend too much time going through my playlists to find songs that fit? for sure

[why-the-heck-not]

"the debug experience" - playlist:

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: this one actively broke my heart while writing it and i hope i did the topic justice. title came from a song on @pyotrkochetkov ‘s barzy playlist and i just knew i had to write something angsty for it. a bunch more happy and smutty long fics and headcanons are coming! seriously, let me know what you thought of this one - much heavier and angstier than i usually write 😬 ignore any inconsistencies, i’m not an expert on this particular medical procedure or professional hockey team travel

word count: 7k

tw: miscarriage, subsequent emotions

summary: on a mini trip to vancouver to watch andrei play, you suffer the worst loss of your life. andrei is your rock throughout the ordeal

Vancouver is a fun city - maybe not as fun as Raleigh or New York, but fun nevertheless - and you’re excited that part of the Canes’ Western road trip fell close to Thanksgiving weekend so you could join in for a bit of it without having to miss too much time at work. Part of your goal this season, your first married to Andrei, is to see him play in every arena. You’ve managed a few of the east coast arenas so far, but this is your first time out west. Nykki joined you too, so it’s like a mini-girls’ trip rolled into a ‘supporting our men’ trip.

The team’s there before you and Nykki get to Vancouver, having already played in Seattle two days before. It’s actually been slightly more than a week since you’ve seen Andrei in person and you miss him a lot. You’ve been with him for four years now, so you’re used to the travel and not seeing him for chunks of time, but this week feels extra hard. Luckily, after this little West Coast swing, Andrei will be home for a good chunk of time - the quirks of the NHL schedule are always insane to you.

You and Nykki get dinner before the game, discussing her wedding plans. It’s scheduled for early August, but time is already flying. You’re a bridesmaid, but you’ve been pushing off picking a dress, knowing that it’s not going to fit you by the time the wedding happens. Your fingers curl carefully against your stomach, hidden by the table and the bulk of your sweater, your little secret.

Butterflies roll in your stomach, excitement mingling with nerves, knowing that you’re going to tell Andrei the news after the game tonight. It’s so early in your marriage, and you’re definitely freaking out a little bit, but the idea of a little baby that looks like Andrei is enough to help the excitement win out.

“Martin wants to do Bali for the honeymoon,” Nykki tells you while you find your way to your seats. You bought tickets for the lower bowl, wanting to be in the middle of the crowd and all the excitement. The Canucks fans are already a little rowdy, with warmups halfway over. There’s a few Canes jerseys smattered through the crowd, but it’s certainly an uneven match.

You sip at your overly large Coke, your stomach turning a little. Dinner isn’t sitting right with you, but it’s manageable for now. “Bali’s nice, I mean, so I’ve heard. But what’s the weather like in August?”

Nykki points at you, her other fingers wrapped around her beer can. “That’s what I said! I thought it would be unbearably hot and humid, but apparently it’s gorgeous - 86 and barely any rain,” she grins. “I promised he could be in charge of the honeymoon, so I think we’re going to Bali.”

“Well,” you smirk back, “there are worse places to spend two weeks with your gorgeous NHL player husband, Nyk.”

She laughs and takes a sip of her beer, eyes twinkling. “You have a point there. How about you and Andrei? What are the big summer vacation plans?”

You pause, thinking of an answer because you’re anticipating having a newborn this summer, so a vacation isn’t likely to happen. Andrei’s been floating the idea of a mini European tour - hitting Rome and Paris for a few days each before heading to Russia for a little bit to visit family. But you haven’t really committed to plans since it’s only November and you have plenty of time. “We haven’t really talked about it,” you answer Nykki truthfully. “Drei’s been focused on the season and I’ve been busy with work. He doesn’t like to plan anything before the end of the regular season anyway.”

“Superstition,” Nykki sing-songs, putting her beer in the cup holder as she stands for the anthems. You get to your feet, pulling off your baseball hat and holding it over your heart, humming along with both anthems. You shift your weight from foot to foot, stretching out your lower back a little.

The puck drops and the game starts - Andrei’s almost immediately put in the penalty box, complaining and shouting at the ref the entire time he skates over. His hands fly in the air as he gestures, but his passion isn’t moving the ref at all and he takes his seat in the box, slumping down. You laugh, shaking your head affectionately. He’s a sweetheart off-ice, but on the ice, Andrei is a borderline criminal. He’s leading the team in penalty minutes and you’ve definitely heard plenty about how he doesn’t deserve it.

The game clock ticks down, Andrei’s released from the box and immediately scores on a breakaway. You and Nykki jump from your seats, screaming and cheering with the Canes up one to nothing. The Vancouver fans around you glare and chirp, but you and Nykki just laugh, giving back as good as you get.

It’s pure fun to be supporting the visiting team and you and Nykki thoroughly enjoy yourselves, dancing to the music and gossiping during TV timeouts and slower moments. Nykki gets another beer and you refill your soda, your stomach still acting up. The popcorn Nykki gets is too salty and you end up joining the crowd when they start throwing their own snacks at the refs. It’s a penalty called on the Canucks, which is good news for you, but the crowds enthusiasm is infectious.

The fans of the Canadian teams are definitely a little more intense and vocal with their displeasure with the refs, you’ve noticed. A particularly obscene chant breaks out when Brady dances around one of the Canucks’ defensemen to set up a powerplay goal for Brent Burns.

You and Nykki throw your arms up and cheer, screaming yourselves silly. Your stomach cramps a little and it puts a damper on the celebration and also serves as a reminder that you really need to see a GI doctor to determine if you’re actually lactose intolerant or if you have a gluten allergy. You grimace and sit back down, clenching your stomach a little, which seems to help. The rest of the second period flies by and the boys are up two to one.

The people around you start to shuffle off to get more food or go to the bathroom, now that the second intermission has started. You finish the rest of your soda and shift in your seat. Nykki looks over at you curiously. “You okay? You seem like you’re kind of uncomfortable,” she says, twisting her hair back into a ponytail.

“I’m fine,” you hum. “My back is killing me though. I must’ve tweaked it on the flight over.”

“You want an Advil?” Nykki’s already shaking around her purse and you can hear things rattling around.

“Let me go refill my drink, pee, and then yeah, I’ll take an Advil,” you reply, holding the reusable cup to your chest and getting out of your seat. Nykki pulls her knees to the side and you scoot past her, stopping when she makes a little noise. “What?”

“Babe, I think you need a tampon too,” she whispers, gesturing to the back of your jeans.

Your eyebrows draw together. You’re not getting your period anymore. “Tamp-?” The word catches in your throat and your eyes go wide. Your mind spins as the pieces start clicking into place and, as if to serve as the final kick in the ass sign, your lower stomach twists unpleasantly with a sharp cramp. Tears fill your eyes and you reach down to grab Nykki’s hand. “Um, surprise, I’m pregnant, but maybe see should go to the hospital or an urgent care?”

Half a dozen emotions cross Nykki’s face before it settles on shock, but all you can focus on now is the persistent cramping in your stomach. The cramping that’s been bothering you all day and you ignored, thinking nothing of it. God, you’re a terrible mother already.

“Okay, okay,” Nykki jumps to her feet, squeezing your fingers and dragging you out of the row and up the stairs to the main concourse. Her other hand is gripping her phone tightly and she’s jabbing at it with her thumb. “I’m calling an Uber. The hospital is like a ten minute drive.”

You nod, feeling numb as Nykki drags you along, your feet stumbling to keep up as you dart around the people waiting in lines for the bathroom and for food. How could your whole night - your whole life - have just taken a complete one-eighty in the matter of minutes. The cold Vancouver air hits your face like a slap, shocking some feeling back into your body. You wish it hadn’t.

The cramping is worse, the feeling between your legs - blood - like free bleeding during your period, but worse, so much worse.

Your stomach lurches and you rip your hand from Nykki’s grasp, bending at the waist and vomiting into a bush next to the entrance to the arena. “Oh, it’s going to be okay. Let it out,” Nykki’s voice is soothing and she rubs a hand in between your shoulder blades while your stomach seizes and you vomit again, spitting into the dirt.

Tears streak down your cheeks and your throat burns now. “I want Andrei,” you whisper, heart clenching with grief.

“Let’s get you to the hospital,” Nykki guides you towards the rideshare pick-up area, where a four-door sedan is already waiting. “I’ll get a hold of him somehow, but let’s take care of you first, okay?”

You let her bundle you into the backseat of the car and swallow back your tears, pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes hard enough to see starbursts. Forcing yourself to take a deep breath, you try to calm down, you don’t know what’s happening for sure. Even though it feels very much like the end of something, you have to find a little piece of hope to keep yourself sane. The driver catches your eye in the rear view mirror as he pulls out of the arena parking lot, his mouth twisted down in a concerned frown even as his eyes are slightly judgmental. He’s driving you from a hockey game to a hospital - god knows what he’s thinking about you.

Nykki squeezes your knee and smiles gently at you, even as she’s typing on her phone with her other hand. “It’s still intermission, no one’s going to have their phone on them, but I’m trying to see if I can get through to one of the trainers or something. Just stay calm and we’ll figure it out,” she’s no-nonsense and you’re so grateful for her taking control of the situation.

Your lower back complains as the driver hits a pothole and another leak of fluid rushes between your legs. The drive is too long and too short all at once and before you know it, you’re being admitted to the Vancouver General Hospital emergency room and deposited on a bed, a curtain drawn around you. A nurse with warm, sympathetic eyes and a kind smile does your intake, her lips twisting to to side as you’re answering her questions.

“I just found out a few days ago,” you whisper, starting your fingers together. “I haven’t even told my husband.”

“Mrs. Svechnikov,” the nurse pats your arm comfortingly, “we really don’t know anything for sure until we get an ultrasound. Try not to put added stress on your body.”

You don’t even bother correcting her about your last name, the Russian name sounding strange in her Canadian accent. Nykki comes behind the curtain, clutching her phone. “There’s about ten minutes left in the third,” she says. “I can’t get ahold of anyone, but I’ll keep trying.”

“We’re going to get an OB down here and check everything out, okay?” The nurse says kindly, but brusquely, and then disappears back into the main emergency room. You roll your neck so your cheek is resting on your shoulder and a few tears leak out of your eyes.

“You didn’t leave any messages or anything for Andrei, right?” You ask. “I don’t want him to see and freak out.”

Nykki brushes your hair off your forehead and shakes her head. “No, I left a few messages for Martin to call me as soon as he could. I figure I’ll get to Andrei that way. Do you need anything?”

“Just Andrei,” you hiccup a sob, pressing a shaking hand to your mouth. Your other hand hovers over your stomach, afraid to touch it. The bleeding hasn’t stopped, so despite what the nurse said, you know it’s a miscarriage. Your stomach rolls and you press your lips together tightly so you don’t vomit.

“I’ll get him here as fast as I can,” Nykki reassures you. While you wait for the OB, she absently braids your hair back from your face, tying it off in an efficient, utilitarian French braid down your back. She talks as she works, trying to distract you, and you’re grateful for her efforts even if they don’t work. All you can think about is the little life that had been growing in you just a few hours ago. Your heart lurches painfully when you realize Andrei’s going to find out about the pregnancy and the loss all at once.

The OB is a middle-aged Black woman with a slight Canadian accent who introduces herself as Doctor Hayes and she doesn’t sugarcoat the news, which you appreciate. “I’m very sorry, Mrs. Svechnikov,” she sighs, looking very much like she hates this part of her job. “But you are actively miscarrying right now. We’re going to admit you overnight for monitoring and will reevaluate in the morning.”

Your entire body goes cold at her words and you grip Nykki’s hand - you hadn’t let her leave your side, terrified to be alone. A cramp rips through your lower body and you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood. “What-“ your voice is hoarse and you clear your throat, trying again, “what, um, are the next steps?”

Doctor Hayes rests her hands on the guard railing on your bed. “Well, we’ll have you on a hydration IV throughout the night while we monitor the miscarriage. There may be a need for a D and C, to make sure it’s complete and there’s no tissue left behind.” Your face blanches as she talks. “But all of that will depend on what happens tonight.”

“Thank you,” you murmur and she pats your hand gently, sympathetically, as she leaves. You can hear her giving the nurse instructions and you slump back against the pillows, completely drained.

Nykki checks her Apple Watch and grimaces. “It’s Martin. I’ll be right back, okay?”

“Be gentle with Andrei, okay?” You reply, desperately wanting him at your side, but also wanting to protect him from this heartbreak a little longer.

She’s back in a few minutes, after the nurse has started you on an IV. “Martin’s going to bring him over,” she says, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. “I didn’t tell him why you were here, just that you started to not feel well during the second,” she says. “It sounded like Andrei was halfway out the door before Martin could finish his sentence.”

You nod faintly. That sounds like Andrei. “I hope they don’t get slammed by Rod for leaving…” You twist your wedding rings around your finger, the diamonds catching the fluorescent lighting.

“They won’t,” Nykki says firmly. “He’d have to be a real bastard to punish Andrei for coming to the hospital for you. Besides, someone should’ve been available to get Andrei here earlier! It’s ridiculous.”

“Let him have an extra hour of normalcy,” you sigh, shifting on the bed, sore and uncomfortable.

You’re moved into a private room and given a hospital gown that bares your entire back and ass. A giant pad that’s probably as big as a damn puppy pee pad is wedged in between your legs to contain the bleeding and the IV is tugging unpleasantly at your skin. Nykki’s waiting downstairs to bring Andrei directly to you and you hope he’s here soon because now that you’re alone, the reality of the situation is sinking in and your chest is starting to feel tight. You turn your head and try to bury your face in the pillow, but you catch a whiff of the lingering Tom Ford Lost Cherry perfume you’d applied earlier mixed with antiseptic and sterile hospital smell and your brain briefly registers that it’s a shame, because you really love this perfume and now you’ll never be able to wear it again. Your heart thumps painfully in your chest, a reminder that you’re losing more and more of your baby with each passing second.

You hear him before you see him, the pounding of his footsteps echoing through the hallways. He’s running down the hall, that much is clear, and when you look over at the door, you catch the blur of Andrei skipping completely past your room before he doubles back and skids to a stop in the doorway.

He looks terrible - hair still damp with sweat, the red mark across his forehead from his helmet is still prominent, and he looks like he got dressed in the dark - or an extreme hurry - in a pair of basketball shorts and his button down with the buttons done up all wrong. But it’s the look of complete panic in his eyes that scares you the most. Andrei never looks that panicked.

“Solnyshka,” he breathes, his shoulders dropping from around his ears. In three long strides he’s at your side, holding your hand, and you finally feel like you can breathe.

“Hi,” you whisper before bursting into tears.

“Hi,” he replies softly, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. His grip is almost painful, but you welcome it as you hiccup. “What’s going on, solnyshka?”

Insanely, the only words that come out of your mouth are, “your shirt is buttoned wrong.”

Andrei looks surprised, “what?” he asks absently as his gaze flickers down to his shirt. He shakes his head, “I rush. Solnyshka,” his voice is high and nervous, “what is going on? Neci didn’t know anything. Just that you’re here, in hospital.”

“I…Andrei, I’m so sorry,” the words rush out of your mouth on a flood of fresh tears. “I was pregnant and now I’m not. I lost the baby.”

You’re not even sure if Andrei can even understand you, you’re crying so hard. But one glance at his face and the completely shattered expression it wears, and you know he understood you. His fingers tighten around yours and he’s shaking his head, hair falling forward over his forehead.

“What? I don’t - a baby?” He rubs at his forehead with his other hand, eyebrows pinched together in confusion. “When did you - why didn’t -“

He can’t seem to get a full sentence out and it only makes you cry harder, your entire body hurting with the effort. You know what he’s asking though.

“Last week,” you manage. “The day after you left. I was going to tell you tonight, but…” You trail off, shrugging one shoulder.

Andrei’s head hangs, chin to chest, and he makes a little noise in the back of his throat. “I’m so sorry, milaya,” he says, voice hoarse. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”

The worst of your tears are drying up and you shake your head. “It’s not…I had Nyk. I hate that you had to find out like this. Baby and then no baby, all at once,” your voice cracks and you trace the little embroidered A.S. on his cuff, barely able to look at him.

Your husband sighs and drops his head so he can rest his forehead against yours. He smells like sweat and fear and Old Spice and your throat clogs with emotion again. “I thought…” he breathes. “I hear hospital and I think the worst. I thought the worst.”

This is the worst, you think. The worst possible thing. But you know what he means, that he thought something even more awful had happened to you, that he was worried he lost you because he didn’t know there was something else to lose.

Andrei’s lips brush against your cheek, soft and delicate, the rasp of his stubble a stark contrast. You sit like that, foreheads touching, for who knows how long. Andrei doesn’t cry, but his chest hitches and you think he might, maybe, when it all sinks in. You’re all cried out and now there’s just bone-deep exhaustion.

“i’m tired,” you murmur, the words getting lost between you.

Andrei nods against your forehead and pulls back, looking like it takes him a huge effort to sit back up. He cups your cheek and his thumb strokes a careful arc over your cheekbone. You lean into the familiar gesture, comforted. “Sleep, okay? I’ll…I have to call Rod. Get my stuff. I’ll take care of everything,” his voice is steady, but his eyes are clouded.

You nod, your eyelids already closing. Andrei gets up and brushes his lips over your forehead, murmuring that he loves you. Once he’s outside the room, you can hear him talking quietly to Nykki and Martin, but your grief and exhaustion pull you under before you can really concentrate on what he’s saying.

Sleep doesn’t last and you’re awake again after a few hours. You blink awake blearily, confused for a second before everything comes rushing back. Andrei’s scrunched up in a chair in the corner, his chin propped up on the palm of his hand, eyes shut. He changed in the time since he left, now dressed in a pair of jeans and a plain black t-shirt. His legs are kicked out in front of him, a pair of white sneakers on his feet. You don’t want to wake him, but when you shift, a sharp pain pierces your side and you gasp loudly before biting down hard on your tongue to muffle the noise. It doesn’t work and Andrei’s eyes fly open, his entire body jerking.

“Hey,” he’s at your side in a second, “what hurts? I call a nurse?” His accent is thick with sleep and worry.

You shake your head, the pain subsiding. “I’m fine.” And you are, the worst of the cramps are gone, leaving just a vague soreness and uncomfortable tightness in your chest and stomach. “You should’ve gone back to the hotel.”

“And leave you?” Andrei looks at you like you’re crazy. He shakes his head. “I got my bag and Nykki brought yours back. Do you want anything?”

“No,” you reach for his hand and lace your fingers together. “I just want to go home.”

He nods, looking exhausted. “Me too. I spoke to Rod, if you’re discharged later today then you come with us on the plane. If not, I stay and come home with you when you’re ready,” his lips quirk up at the corner when you start to protest. “Is decided, solnyshka. I’m not leaving your side.”

“But…” you trail off, all the arguments that you can think of fading when you realize that you don’t want to be separated from Andrei, not right now. “Okay,” you whisper.

“Good,” he chuckles under his breath. “I don’t want to argue with you.”

“No arguments from me,” you reply dryly, rolling your head so your cheek is on the pillow and you can look directly at him. “Why don’t you try and sleep some more? I’m not going anywhere.”

His jaw tightens a bit. “Can’t sleep,” he replies, even though you had just seen him asleep. “If the doctor comes, I want to be awake.”

You nod again, sore and tired, and Andrei just sits with you quietly for a while before you think to ask, “how was the game?”

He snorts. “We won, but who cares?” It’s such an unexpected answer - Andrei’s never not cared about winning a game - and it startles you into silence.

A nurse comes in a few minutes later, saving you from having to find an answer. She introduces herself as Kayla and speaks in a soft, but firm tone. You’re starting to recognize the undercurrent of apology and sympathy in the nurses and doctors’ tones and you’re beginning to hate it. Andrei doesn’t let go of your hand while she checks your vitals and puts another bag of saline on the IV pole. “The OB will be in soon to do another ultrasound and see if you need a D and C,” Kayla says gently. “But everything else looks good. You won’t be staying another night and I would guess that you’ll be out of here by early afternoon at the latest, either way.”

You nod robotically, not really absorbing what she’s saying. By this afternoon, everything will be over and you’ll for sure, 100% not be pregnant anymore. It’s a gut punch, even though you knew this was coming. Andrei asks the nurse a few more questions before she leaves, but you don’t really listen, focusing on a small stain on a ceiling tile. It looks like nothing at all, just a blob of brown, but the more you stare at it, the more your vision unfocuses, the more it starts to look like one of those stereotypical ultrasound blobs.

You don’t even realize that you’re crying again until Andrei wipes the tears from your cheeks. “Try and sleep again,” he murmurs, chewing at the inside of his cheek. “I think you’ll need strength.”

“Can you get me some water?” You ask, running your hands over the braid Nykki had done. It’s so messy and it feels like she fixed it a million years ago, but it was only four or five hours. It feels like another lifetime, sitting in the arena and joking around with her. From halfway through second intermission to a hospital room at 2 a.m. Certainly not how you were picturing the end of your trip to Vancouver.

You think you must fall asleep again because the next thing you know, there’s sun coming through the window and Andrei’s at your side again, his large hand resting on the top of your head, cradling the crown. Unfamiliar doctors and nurses are in the room and they all speak to you and Andrei, but the only words you hear are “incomplete miscarriage” and “quick procedure” before you’re being shuffled off to an operating room. It all happens too fast for you to even be scared and the last thing you remember before the anesthesia is Andrei by your ear, whispering in Russian to you, the spicy scent of his deodorant filling your senses.

Andrei’s there again, when you wake up, eyes looking red and face drawn. You’re barely conscious, but the sigh of relief he exhales permeates the fog. His hand is warm in yours and you manage a weak smile at him. “Hey there handsome,” you croak and he laughs weakly. “Miss me?”

“You…” Andrei coughs, “I love you very much.”

“Love you,” your words slur a bit. “I wanna go home.”

“Soon, solnyshka,” Andrei promises, stroking your hair. “Soon.” He’s still stroking your hair when you fall asleep again.

When you wake up again, the overwhelming sense of emptiness is what you notice first. Then Andrei comes into focus again, his weight of his head resting on your leg, his hand on your hip. You’re not sure if he’s awake or not, but you gently run your fingers through his hair and he looks over at you, shifting.

“Hi,” he murmurs, dark circles under his eyes.

“Hi,” you rasp back, fingers still working through his hair.

“How do you feel?”

“Sore, tired,” you hesitate, “empty.”

“Yeah,” Andrei’s reply is barely an exhale. “Doctor said we can go, once they give you the all-clear.”

You nod, chewing at your lower lip. “Andrei,” you choke his name, the words coming out like broken glass, “we don’t have a baby anymore.”

“I know,” Andrei replies simply, sitting up all the way and leaning forward to gather you into his arms. You go to him easily, moving carefully and ignoring the pull of your protesting muscles, and bury your face against his chest. He’s in the same black t-shirt and he smells stale now, like he needs a shower desperately, but under that he just smells like Andrei, like home, and you cry into his chest, the fabric growing wet under your face. He just holds you, his arms a strong cage around your back, his hands running up and down your back. Everything in your body hurts, but nothing more than your heart.

Throughout the next few hours, when you’re given a clean bill of health, instructions to take it easy and abstain from sex or using a tampon for three weeks, and discharged, Andrei is a rock. He’s right at your side, helping you get dressed in the soft joggers you were using as pajama pants and an oversized hoodie. He laces up your sneakers for you and carries all the bags out to the waiting Uber. You were discharged in time to make the team flight home, but after hearing Andrei on the phone before the doctor came in for your exam, you kind of suspect that he may have pressed Rod to change the travel plans. You can’t even start to think about what he’s done for you, exhaustion seeping to your bones.

No one says anything to you when Andrei ushers you onto the plane, but Neci gives you a small smile and squeezes your hand when you walk past him. You return the smile, feeling awful that Nykki has to fly home on her own. She’s been texting, checking in on you, and you haven’t answered yet, too distracted to deal with even holding your phone. Andrei bundles you into a seat near the back of the plane and wraps his jacket around you.

“Thanks,” you say quietly, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Anything for you, solnyshka,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Try and sleep, long flight. I have the pain pills, if you need, okay?”

You nod against his shoulder and wrap his jacket tighter around your body, tucking your hands up into the sleeves. Andrei rests his palm on your knee and before the plane even takes off, you’re asleep.

It’s a long flight back to Raleigh and you don’t sleep the entire way, but after a solid three hour nap, you wake up feeling better. Andrei’s asleep when you wake up, his head dropped back against the headrest, his mouth open slightly. He finally looks relaxed and peaceful and you’re grateful, so grateful, for him.

Your whole body still hurts, but your legs are starting the cramp up, so you carefully shimmy out of your seat to stretch in the aisle. Brady and Jarvy wave at you from a few rows up and you wave back, wondering what they know, if they know anything. No one really tries to talk to you, so you assume Andrei told them that you had some kind of medical emergency. Legs feeling better, you settle back into your seat, finally pulling out your phone and connecting to the in-flight wifi so you can text Nykki.

She reassures you that none of the other guys know what happened and that if you need anything when you’re back in Raleigh to let her know. You’re blessed to have such a good friend in her and you thank her, thinking that maybe in a few days you’ll see if she’ll bring Gigi over for some puppy cuddles.

Andrei wakes up about and hour before you land and he gulps back half of a water bottle before he even says anything. Then he tips his head close to yours and whispers, “how are you feeling? Any pain?”

“No,” you whisper back, “I’m okay. Just sore. It’s like being drained after a really bad period. I feel better after my nap.”

“Good,” he pushes the half-empty water bottle into your hands. “Drink.”

“Yes, sir,” you tease, the moment of lightness making you feel a little better. You sip at it slowly, starting to get a little nauseous. Andrei wraps his arm around your shoulder and you lean against him, drawing comfort from his solid warmth.

When you land, Andrei guides you off the plane, his palm reassuring against your lower back. It’s easy to let him take the lead and to not think about anything. He’s got both of your bags and you don’t even put up a fuss when he refuses to let you carry even your purse. You’re just too tired.

Andrei’s car is parked fairly close and you don’t have to walk very far. You lower yourself into the front seat of the Lamborghini, muttering, “I hate this car.” Your stomach gives a protest of pain from having to climb into the car.

“I know,” Andrei laughs a little, loosening up. His string of ugly sports cars is a long running topic of conversation. The last one was orange, the one before that a strange green. This one is electric purple and it’s hideous. His terrible taste in car colors is his only red flag. “Next one will be red.”

“Why couldn’t this one have been red?” You ask, breathing deeply to stave off the nausea. You sink back against the seat and Andrei pulls out of the parking spot. He’s driving must slower than usual and is taking extreme care with navigating the roads.

“This one was only 75 made,” he explains again. “It’s a collectors item.”

“It’s still ugly,” you tease, a smile playing at your lips.

He reaches over and takes your hand, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss your knuckles. “I love you so much, moya solnyshka, and I’m so…proud of your strength.”

Andrei doesn’t look at you when he says it, but his voice gets thick and he swallows roughly. He continues, “it hurts to know there would’ve been a baby in the summer.” So he did the math, you think. “But, this is maybe the wrong thing to say, but I’m glad I didn’t know before.”

It’s not really the right thing to say to you in the moment, but you can’t blame him. You sniff and nod. “I know. I almost wish I hadn’t known either. It was only a week, but I was so attached to…to the idea of our baby.”

“When you’re ready,” Andrei says slowly, turning to look at you while you’re stopped at a red light, “you tell me and I’ll give you a baby. When you’re ready.”

You nod, unable to even think about trying for a baby right now, but Andrei’s words and his earnest expression make your heart melt. You love him so, so much. “When I’m ready,” you repeat, squeezing his fingers.

When you get home, Andrei runs you a shower and joins you after a minute, soaping up your hair and scrubbing down your body gently. You don’t speak while he works and his touch is nothing but chaste. He’s careful around your stomach and between your legs, impossibly gentle with those huge hands of his. You stand under the spray while he gives his own body and hair a quick wash, the heat of the shower starting to make you a little lightheaded. Right before it gets to the point where you think you’re going to have to say something, Andrei flips the water off and reaches out of the stall for a huge, fluffy towel, wrapping you up in it and rubbing his hands up and down your arms to keep you warm. He grabs another towel and wraps it around his waist, gripping your elbow and guiding you back to the bedroom.

You rummage in his drawers for oversized clothes, not wanting anything constrictive on your body. Once you’re comfortable in an old pair of Andrei’s grey sweats and a threadbare Duke t-shirt, you crawl under the covers and curl up on your side. “Join me?” You ask, looking up at Andrei. He nods, silently climbing into bed behind you and gently scooting you closer to him. The warmth of his body is comforting against your back and he wraps his arms loosely under your breasts, avoiding your stomach. Andrei buried his face in your hair and you let a few silent tears leak out of your eyes.

What did you do to deserve this wonderful man?

With Andrei’s arms around you and your heart heavy in your chest, you fall asleep again, but it’s unsatisfying. After a few hours, you need food even though you’re still nauseous. Andrei makes himself a sandwich and warms up a can of chicken soup for you and you eat in bed, a rerun of The Nanny on TV. Andrei doesn’t really get the show - the humor is too specific - but he does like to point out all the outfits that Fran wear and he thinks you can pull off. It’s a nice distraction.

You take the next few days off of work, just to recover, but Andrei isn’t as lucky. You’re mostly fine physically except some lingering soreness, most of your problems are mental. After talking about it on the way home, neither you not Andrei has really brought up the miscarriage.

Two days after the miscarriage, the team is playing at home and Andrei’s right there in the middle of it all. You don’t watch the game, still too raw to watch hockey after what happened in Vancouver, so it’s a little shocking when he comes home with a blackened right eye and a cut across his nose and part of his cheek. “What happened?” You yelp upon seeing him, getting carefully to your feet and reaching up to lightly touch the side of his face.

Andrei grunts. “Distracted, got hit,” he winces when he moves his face.

You feel awful, knowing he was distracted because he was worrying about you. “Luckily it didn’t need stitches,” you say softly. “Can’t have anything ruining that pretty face,” you tease him lightly.

He gives you a tight smile and his gaze flickers down to your stomach, covered in an oversized sweatshirt. You catch his look and brush your thumb over the edge of his jaw. “I’m okay. You don’t have to worry about me so much,” you say. “I’m tough. I’m strong.”

“I know,” Andrei sighs, dropping a kiss to your forehead. He hesitates, wanting to say more, and you wait. “At the game,” he says slowly, “Burnsie, Staalsy, they had their kids there. I couldn’t help…I was picturing…”

Oh.

Your heart cracks right over the scabs that had been forming the past two days and fresh pain floods your veins. “Drei…” you’re not even sure what to say to him. You knew he was sad, but you hadn’t really thought about how deep his feelings went.

He smiles sadly at you. “Today, it hit me,” he says, twisting his lips. “We lost a baby.”

“Yeah,” you reply, throat tight. “We did.”

Andrei pulls you close, twisting his hand in the end of your ponytail. “I wasn’t expecting it to hurt like this, when I didn’t even know for very long,” he murmurs and you can feel a few tears drip onto the top of your head. You wrap your arms around his waist tighter.

“I don’t think that matters,” you mumble. “It hurts no matter how long you knew about it.”

You can feel Andrei’s head turn, his cheek pressing against the top of your head. You just stand there in his arms, holding tightly to the only other person that’s feeling the same pain as you. The longer Andrei holds you, the more you feel your fragile heart mending itself, the steady beat of his heart a constant under your cheek.

After that, things slowly start getting back to normal. You’re physically healed and cleared to resume normal activities. Andrei’s not so distracted during games. You can go hours, days without thinking about the baby that’s gone.

Andrei mentions it, off-hand, about a month after you get home from Vancouver, after he’s back from another quick road trip. “We could’ve been telling our families about the baby at Christmas,” he’s clearly been thinking about it.

You nod, a little startled by his comment. “Probably, yeah. Or we would’ve told them already, too excited to keep a secret,” you smile a little to yourself, thinking about how Andrei almost spoiled his proposal twice before he actually popped the question because he was so excited.

He grins at you, dimple popping, and pushes a slim box across the table at you. “Early Christmas present,” he says, answering your unasked question.

Looking at him suspiciously, you pop the lid on the jewelry box, finding a thin gold chain bracelet with two delicate charms on it - the common blue and white Greek mati to ward off the evil eye and a little horizontal cross attached at each end to the chain. You trace your fingers over the chain and look up at Andrei.

“A little luck?” He says, lifting one shoulder. “I saw it in a store window, in Long Island, before we played. Made me think of you.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, getting out of your seat to kiss him softly. You trace your tongue over his lower lip and desire stirs in your stomach, something foreign after the last few weeks, but oh so familiar. You’re not quite ready to have sex yet, but it’s a good reminder that you will one day soon. “It’s perfect.” You hold out your wrist and Andrei clasps the bracelet on.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he says, reminding you of the promise he made in the car.

“Whenever I’m ready,” you repeat, crawling onto his lap and letting him hold you. The thought of getting pregnant again doesn’t make your chest feel quite as tight anymore, doesn’t get the panic alarms ringing in your head. Andrei’s been so patient and gentle, making everything just a little bit easier to bear.

Every day just reminds you that as long as Andrei’s by your side, you can handle anything life throws at you.

He kisses the side of your head and holds you close, chasing the shadows of grief away.

[superfallingstars]

Hey! Wanted to send you another playlist ask prompt (if that's ok) ^^: Percy Weasley in his flat, trying not to think about his family. I'm genuinely wondering what he would listen to

send me playlist asks!

First off, you can basically always send playlist prompts, I’m fine with it, I have a ton of fun with these. It’s just a matter of whether I answer them in a few weeks, months, or years LOL

I confess, before receiving this ask, I had thought about Percy for maybe a grand total of 5 seconds, so suffice it to say that I had no idea what to do about this. However I recently (VERY recently) started rereading the series and I’m slowly remembering who tf he is lol. My playlists for the other Weasley kids all have a huge Britpop influence, so I decided to continue that (along with some other alternative 80s and 90s stuff) on Percy’s. Hopefully it comes across that he is a huge stuck-up nerd, but he is also just a young guy trying to find his place in the world, going through the difficult process of realizing that he's made a mistake, and admitting to himself and the people he hurt that he was wrong... I imagine it was a very humbling experience. Also wow there’s so many great songs about moving on and starting a new life and I don’t think about you at all anymore so idk why you’re even sending me a sweater MOM. Basically I'm quite proud of the lyrics on this one (part of why it took me 10000 years to answer) – so let's get into it

Track list:

Blur - There’s No Other Way: starting off strong with some early Blur. Tbh I don’t really know what this song is about but I enjoy that it starts out with “You’re taking the fun out of everything.” Soooo true Percy you killjoy

The Wedding Present - Box Elder: Great song about leaving (specifically a relationship – unfortunately most great songs about moving on are about relationships, but whatever)! “I’ve got a lot of things to do / A lot of places to go / I’ve got a lot of good things coming my way / And I’m afraid to say that you’re not one of them.” Yeowch!

Lloyd Cole and the Commotions - Are You Ready To Be Heartbroken?: I adore this song in all its 80s glory! The meaning is a bit ambiguous but imo it’s about being an opinionated, idealistic, pretentious young person (“Making your friends feel so guilty about their cynicism”) who doesn’t realize real life is going to – well – break their heart.

The Smiths - London: I just heard this song for the first time two days ago and omg it's perfect. Like it’s literally about leaving your friends and family behind to go move to London and work in the big city. Percy would 10000% listen to this (and uncritically agree that the only reason his family is mad at him is because they’re jealous of his success and his big boy job at the Ministry)

Ned’s Atomic Dustbin - Selfish: from what I can tell, this song is about being an insecure loser so you get all stuck-up and mean about it. "If I don't know what's cool / Will you call me a loser?" ... “I hope your head's aching from having too much fun” ... “The selfish gene in me / Has finally come into being / He’s teaching me how to be mean / But that’s a sorry sorry state to be in” ..Rather fitting, isn’t it?

The Wedding Present - Getting Nowhere Fast: read an article about this song (the original song, this is a cover) that described it as “the feeling that your failing life isn’t what you signed up for” and honestly I can’t describe it any better than that

Blur - Birthday: this song is about spending your birthday alone and feeling really weird and bad about it. Which is something I hadn’t even considered could have happened to Percy but now I 1000% believe that it did

New Order - Weirdo: These lyrics man. “It’s a life that’s made for me / Where I can be completely free / So long as I obey this sound / That echoes all around” Lollll

Dire Straits - Brothers in Arms: This song is a little dated for Percy’s time, but I quite like putting 80s stuff on here because I think older music adds to Percy's supposed maturity as well as making him seem accurately uncool. And “We’re fools to make war on our brothers in arms” wow sooooo true

The Verve - Neon Wilderness: truly captures the vibes of being a lonely young person living on your own in the big city. I can vividly picture Percy listening to this alone in his flat and slowly realizing what a sad and solitary life he has created for himself…

Pavement - Stop Breathing: THE REALIZATION. This song is technically about a soldier dealing with the emotional toll of war but it works fantastically well for this playlist (the guilt of realizing you were wrong, that you truly hurt others, and that your whole belief system was massively flawed). “Write it on a postcard / Dad they broke me / Dad they broke me.” Ummmmm screaming crying throwing up

The Rentals - It’s Time to Come Home: It really is.

WOWWW this one was so fun! It was a challenge to create a playlist for a character I’m not super familiar with, but honestly that was probably the most fun part about it! It’s so rewarding when you spend some time thinking about a character you (initially) feel neutral towards and force yourself to really consider their motivations and relate to them – I like Percy a lot more now LOL. Thank you so much for the ask!

[immoralimmortals]

A Song With Ten Names

Chapter 29: Falling Behind

Chapter 1 ☆ Next chapter ☆ AO3 ☆ Featured song playlist

Summary of chapter: Is it the sun and the moon, or is it the moon and the stars? What if it's all three Kisame's looking for?

Author's Note:

Hey, so like...see the Itachi x Kisame tag? You see it, amidst all the reader x akatsuki ones? Yeah I meant it. You're getting that this chapter. I'm bi and queer and polyamorous and I'm making it everyone else's problem.

*Clap* It's polyamory time, baby!!! I'm still exploring this aspect of myself, personally, so I hope I wrote it okay and yall enjoy. The song for this chapter is Falling Behind by Laufey.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Moved out to a new city

June is dawning down on me

And all that I can find

A sickly romance in the air

Lovers stroll without a care in sight

Ooh, this can't be right

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

He had another dream last night.

Ethereal, pearly white. Soft sheets wrapped around her body, protecting her modesty. Bright eyes both innocent and knowing, looking up at him as he sits across the bed. He reaches forward to hold her thigh and she allows, letting cloth slip off to reveal a bare shoulder. Her chin tilts down both seductively and with shyness, watching a hand with a red ring that appears behind her to help. There are soft coal eyes looking through thick lashes.

The swordsman of the mist isn't entirely sure where the line crossed between sleep and daydreams. At some point he realizes he is sleeping on his stomach, arm stretched as if wanting to hold someone beside, but alas, that space will never be filled. Kisame watches his own knuckles curl around the linens, a sigh of acceptance escaping his throat.

Knock knock.

Itachi is there, speak of the devil. Kisame swears he looks at him with the same eyes as in his sleep...but he knows better. How selfish of him to want the exemplary of two genders when neither are fit for the likes of he. All the same, he tries to smile for his best friend once he drags himself out of bed and opens the door. "Morning, Itachi-san."

The Uchiha blinks, murmuring a "hn" as he does sometimes; sickeningly enamoring of him. "We should spend time with her this morning."

Kisame blinks. There is no other “her” to spend time with, so the assumption is clear. And yet... "Sure. But...is there a reason for today in particular...?" He receives a shake of the head. Black locks of hair always look so soft, almost like the harshest of conditions could never weather its beauty away. Maybe blood makes a great conditioner, the shark jokes to himself.

"No reason." The Uchiha whims are so much more flighty than you'd expect, merely under a veneer of grim attitude; Kisame knows well the whimsy Itachi holds back. He knows, too, that all the same there is most definitely a reason. Ah well. Not his place to question.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Touched the ocean, fell right in

Stepped outside and burned my skin

My life won't go my way

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The fishtank is set on a counter somewhere in the depths of this mansion, a regal setup of dark colored wood with flourishes of carvings about it. A mighty fine place for a little fish meant to be eaten. She feels like that sometimes; might be why she’s spent her first moments awake holding her chin on top of folded arms and staring inside. The woman has no idea what kind of fish it is, but perhaps it doesn’t matter. It’s enough to help keep her mind off of things, hoping and wondering if such an animal can feel happiness and safety. This is the state Kisame finds her in, outside looking in seeming to be still sleepwalking, as she’s been the past week-so. But her mind is more awake, thanks to the escapades of someone with purple eyes and someone else in an orange mask.

The tallest Akatsuki cocks his head once done dipping it underneath the diminutive entryway, taking in the traveler’s presence before it’s interrupted by his large, disruptive self. She’s so sweet, sweet as...what did she call it? Cotton candy? Whatever it was that was merely sugar spun so fast it's thin like gossamer. It’s almost a shame to interrupt her. “How is it doing, Takara-hime? Think I did good enough for it...?”

The moment she sees him, hands reach out, asking for him where a voice struggles. What a blessing. He leans down to his ward and abides. The woman certainly has a real knack for asking for him after these wonderful, terrible dreams. Her hands tenderly take his, thumbs stroking the knuckles with what he remarks as anxious energy. He smiles at her, as he always does.

“Ah, good." Her actions are returned by Kisame in much the same way Itachi's are; you need not speak to communicate, sometimes. "So...how are you, Takara-hime?”

A twitch of a smile herself before it falls, a silent equivalent of promising she’ll be okay even if she’s not quite yet. A shadow falls in the entrance of this nook, Itachi haloed by morning sunlight from a hallway window.

“You should eat, Takara-san.” Dutiful as always, Kisame notes of the Uchiha. Usually it’s him that’s more sickly, but the one occasion Kisame so much as caught a cold had his partner practically crawling on him to make sure he got rest and food. Somehow a man has such a bleeding-heart that sometimes he’s heartless; the enigma of Itachi is endless. Though the kindness isn’t lost on her, the traveler shakes her head; she is not hungry. “Tea then,” Itachi decides. The two shinobi lock eyes for a second. They often talk without literal words, knowing each other’s body language so well, but to the swordsman there’s a tinge of...something. Something he can’t entirely pin down.

Regardless, the instruction unspoken is to stay with her while he goes. A pleasure and a temptation, the kiri-nin finds, as the soft hands tug his a bit more. Oh, this is horrible; the man grits his teeth to concentrate on the real world versus fantasy. He wants to kiss her so bad, lay her on his mattress and hear her beautiful voice moan his name—

"K-K-Kisame...?"

—And he's awake, purple tinging his cheeks. She's trying to mime for something, arms and hands gesturing, surely, but make no sense. He raises a brow and gives an amused, confused, lopsided grin. "What? What's up, princess?" Is it bad to call her that if that's what he dreams of saying on top of her? Frustrated with herself, she asks for his hold once more. Tentatively, it moves towards her, gradually guided to slip under the strap on her shoulder. What is she doing...?! Breath hitching, the shark sees a vision of himself pulling it off and pressing her onto that daybed just behind her—

...Wait. This is...familiar.

...

...

Oh.

"You remember that..?" To this the woman nods, smile back on her face. Kisame smirks harder. "Yeah, I still have the stuff."

A moment later, the gift of the florist reenters the traveler's life, first time since the day knight and ruler met. Something about how they already had the awkwardness, in one way or another he admitted to thinking of her that way— sensually— and she shrugged it off...it makes it easier for her to interact with him right now. Tobi and Hidan especially...love them, of course, but there's a toll on her spirit, especially after discovering the throws of battle. She needs peace, and there are two who give it to her in abundance. A happy accident that Kisame and Itachi are the ones who spend most time with her today.

Honestly...Kisame especially. His eyes don't put you to sleep.

Point is, she trusts him with this, with one request. The lotion she hasn’t felt since the day it was opened releases the same scent with a crack of the lid. Kisame has no idea what the hell is in it...but it is nice. But it reminds him of her, so of course it does; perhaps the pleasure is inevitable. There’s been a couple of times he opened it up again just for that reason. A part of him wants to offer the jar to her, but he can tell from the look in her eyes: it’s him that she wants, just as before. Fingers dip into the milky salve, other hand brushing back her hair off her shoulder. So trusting, so trusting. She shouldn’t trust him, but she does. What is he to do but try? Her eyes soften the second skin is on skin, a slight bob of her head as serenity finally finds a place for her once more. She hums and her eyes close shut, trusting him to do whatever he shall like as she sits on the edge of the silky daybed.

Dutifully, the knight massages. One hand becomes two, encasing either shoulder so small in his palms. She hums again. Her voice even so small now is still so pleasant to the ear. He isn’t prepared when he gets more:

“Daffodil.”

He grunts questioningly. There’s the most sincere smile on her face, much more sincere than his will ever be. The woman repeats what it is, the perfume of magic her friend from the flowers sent her way:

“Daffodil.”

He grunts again, almost hoping it’ll make her speak once more. Her voice is beautiful. She takes his hand, interrupting the massage, and she urges it back into his own space. Disbelieving, it isn't until the traveler places his own fingers on his own neck that he gets it; she wants him to try it, too. “Yeah? That’s what this is, huh...?” If she talks back, he can’t hear. The world seems whiter, more like the bedsheets he wants, and a devil on his shoulder tells him something, as she beams so perfectly up at him with the scent of narcissus surrounding in the air:

Tell her.

It would be the perfect moment to.

Look at her: Radiant and soft and arms forward to touch you. Your princess, without a single doubt, is happy with you. Say it. Make her yours.

...

...

...But he can’t. It wouldn’t be fair, not when she’s like this, only just reconnecting with reality and clinging to him meanwhile. And besides, when she’s fully “awake” again, if she ever will be...then she’d never want him like that. Kisame must hide not only his lust but his love. That’s only what is right. He couldn’t protect her, after all, from the outside world. Who is he against what’s within the tailless beast? Who would want a monster like him but someone equally disturbed, wrong in this world?

He isn’t as good at hiding his feelings as he thinks he is. The upturn at the corner of his lips fades and weary eyes don’t blink as the woman looks back at him. Her lips part, trying to find what she very much wants to say—

And then Itachi walks in, three cups of tea on a tray. Kisame sees her seem to forget him entirely, approaching the Uchiha with delight and gratitude upon her face. The woman hands him a cup and he knows where his place is in the food chain.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Bossa nova in my room

Hope that I'll find someone too to love

Because...

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Maybe the saucer and the teacup are made for each other.

This is the sort of phrase that repeats in Kisame’s mind, watching from the back porch as the lady sits outside on the swing, his partner behind. Even from this angle, he catches glimpses of her smile, seemingly even brighter with Itachi around. How strange it is, a human manifestation of darkness and crows and a blood red moon bringing sunshine when he walks in. Always has had a knack for it, really… But it’s the first time he’s seen it happen to someone besides himself. Girls chase Itachi, yes, something about Uchiha genes or pheromones, who the hell knows. But it’s not the same. It’s not the same way he spellbounds Kisame, he’s always told himself. And the longer he looks at Takara, the more he sees the same in her. Joy, actual joy, not merely a chase nor a fling nor candy for the eyes. She loves him. Kisame has a hunch Itachi may love her too. That might be the something hiding in his eyes...

He sinks more into the hold he has against his knees, pressed to his chest as he watches them under golden autumn leaves, a grumble under his breath. Oh, what a failure... He couldn't protect her. He's not good enough. What can he do to make the longing stop? But he doesn't want it to; he wants this suffering, even if nothing else. How selfish. Does she know it hurts him to ask for him like this, insist he join as a third wheel under sunshine, that all these days in domestic bliss are but a blur? No. Surely not. Too sweet. Too sweet...

And Itachi...the swordsman sees the barest smile on his lips a prize. Itachi...after everything...we are always parallel, aren't we? Never going to cross. Beauty, indeed, is to be put on the highest shelf outside of his grasp, as best deemed by fate itself. His hands are not gentle, after all. They will fumble, Takara the teacup and Itachi the saucer. Ironic, given how tall he is. But...Itachi at least can fend for himself; the crow will survive on his own, however unhappily. Takara...

She needs someone.

So maybe the saucer and the teacup are made for each other.

...One piece of porcelain gently tugs the sleeve of the other. A careful palm goes behind her back, stilling the swing. A hum in the back of her throat, the traveler points behind. She points to Kisame. Other arm slung in his cloak, Itachi turns his head to follow, evaluating. No, Kisame tries to promise with his eyes alone, he’s no rival for you. If it’s you she wants, it’s you she’ll have. But the something in his black eyes persists, sharper than before. Maybe it isn't love after all...? The stare is interrupted as the woman gets up from the swing, walks over, and she takes a blue hand once again.

“Eh?” It’s obvious what she wants— for him to get up— but she still doesn’t get it. “What’s up, princess?” Stop calling her that, his own mind says. But he can’t help it. Words still fail her, so she insists with a tug for him to rise to his feet. Standing up becomes walking, and walking becomes following. He follows her all the way up to Itachi, whom he gives an awkward quirk of the corner of his mouth. She persists even still—

“What? On…?” Oh. Well. Uh… Well. What choice does he have? The grown ass man does as told; he sits on the swing.

“Okay...like this?” Imagine him months ago, being told he’d be more than happy to humor the childish whimsies of a girl from space. He’d laugh in his own face. Even more so when he’d mention she wants to push him on a swing. Who is he to deny it, though?

It’s a bit pathetic, to be honest. He feels her hands but he hardly moves, but she keeps trying. Oh, sweetheart, he thinks, you needn't try to do such a thing for me; you were having such fun yourself. I don't need a turn. These thoughts stay inside, lest his denial hurt her more. A grunt of frustration, rare before but unheard nowadays from her—

“Takara-san.”

The hands leave his back. Another pair come up, holding his shoulders; Itachi’s touch sends electricity down his back, and the voice behind his ear does not help. “Care for a push, Kisame?”

Purple stings his cheeks and Kisame’s head dips in embarrassment and seething bittersweet irony. A chuckle. Then a laugh. “If that’s what the lady wants!” How ridiculous...but he’ll do it. It must mean a lot that Itachi will for her, too, just because it's asked for. Certainly that is proof that he loves her...

Kisame imagines himself young, younger than days of bloodshed and regret and so many lies. He feels a grip strong and a tug soft alike upon his back and wonders if there was any way things could have turned out different.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The sun's engaged to the sky

And my best friend's found a new guy

I'm only getting older

I've never had a shoulder to cry on

Someone to call mine

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Cicadas: some say they sing, some call it screaming. Either way, they fill Kisame’s mind from the cracked open window in his bedroom. Maybe it’ll keep him up; he wants to stay up. He wants to either never sleep again or sleep forever, and he cannot have both and make it out of this with heart intact. Another pale dream and he’s a goner, most assuredly and could never look Itachi or Takara in the eye, the only people still alive that give him the time of day. He rubs his temple—

Knock knock.

An exhale. Who the hell could that be…?

The door cracks open and it’s the woman’s turn at his door, garbed in her nightgown and a nervous hand to her chest. Worry wells up immediately in his own. “Princess…?” She somehow looks even smaller.

“I…” she quivers, and her head tucks deeper down into her shoulder. “I...I…” There’s no choice but for the man to wait, see if she can find her words. What could be bothering her…? What did he do wrong today? Kisame tried so very hard to leave her alone whenever possible.

“I’m sorry.”

His heart stops.

“W-…”

And she walks right into him; before big blue arms can hold her, it becomes abundantly clear that smaller ones are climbing around Kisame instead. He is being held, at least as well as one so small can try. “I’m sorry.”

The repeated phrase makes him frown. “What’s there to be sorry about, princess? You didn’t do anything wrong.” But she did, most certainly she must have:

“You’re scared,” she says into his ribcage, reverberations cutting straight in. “I don’t want you to be scared.”

“Takara..." Oh, good gods above...what has he done? What has he done to do this to her?! "You have nothing to be sorry about...!” Stinging, stinging. Kisame thought he already got all his crying out of the way, back in the early days of her safe return where she hadn’t enough wits about her to notice his red eyes. They prickle the edges of his gills now, forcing the top of his cheeks to press up lest tears fall down and make things worse. “It’s me. It’s me that should apologize. Don’t be sorry.”

“Why?”

Why?

“I failed," he answers easily, and his palm cups the back of her head much the same way. "My mission is to protect you. I had the gall to promise you you’re worth protecting. And...and you are. You are." The swallow in his throat tastes like oversteeped tea. "But in the end...I…I...” Maybe he is scared after all.

There isn't really a way to excuse this in a way that'll make him happy. She has to try another route. Desperate fingers try to massage his shoulders, best as they can blind and without daffodils. "Y-...you get to try again."

And his heart flips and races thousands of miles per hour. A moment, and finally his smile is real again. "You're very kind."

"No..." He needs to know; how does she get him to know...? One response, and it is desperate:

"I love you."

A simple answer that should tell him everything he'd ever need to know. Breathless. Disbelief. Maybe— no. No. She wouldn't understand, comprehend the way his heart works like no one else he's met before, and therefore he picks the safest meaning for himself out of these words. He scruffs her hair, trying to mix away the teardrops that managed to escape him before she notices. "Much too sweet, Takara-hime..." He swallows again more of his shame and denial of fate, and though he wants to blame this on a loose tongue, the next phrase is calculated. "I suppose I love you too."

But she understands his love better than he thinks.

“You...make me...feel safe. I want...to make you feel safe...too… Can I stay...tonight?”

And how can he say no to that?

It makes him nervous, and it doesn't help that she has no worry of it, of a grip that can kill around her delicate little waist and teeth that can rip so close to her skin as the princess in white moves her fingers down to curl around his own. Each touch...it is, indeed, clear that she's more worried about him than herself, even after all that's happened. She guides him to the bed, lays down first, and reaches out to him. He more so watches himself wrap around her than feels it being done. She smells like daffodils, hard to ignore with his face right in her neck as he climbs in, space so small he's nearly on top. Even so close, all he can wonder is if the lady with the perfume craved her, too. Maybe she did, bestowing a gift so intimate, so perfect to know only when you're nearly melting into the same skin.

"I love you," she says again. The hair on the nape of his neck is stroked, and almost like a switch, he immediately feels his eyelids weigh down. "I'm sorry."

And for once, he can't tell her not to be, not when it hurts so much to be with her like this when it isn't what she wants, surely not in the same way he does. Warmth swathes her again and she falls asleep, head in his bare chest and a scared man's arms around her sides. His own eyes are closed...but...but...

The last thing she thinks of is how she's sorry that she can't explain better what it means when she loves someone, unable to ask if he's like that too. They'd have more in common than he thinks.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Everybody's falling in love and I'm falling behind

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There’s no way he can be allowed to fall asleep in the same bed as someone else. The fight must be won. These cursed fish eyes need to stay open. No dreams, not with her so vulnerable like this, he so much an animal of carnal desire. 

He starts slow, as soon as her breathing slows and stays that way, hips backward first and then oh so carefully arms slip away. She shivers like he was keeping her warm and his heart aches. The smell of rain is outside, from the crack in the window and he follows his instincts to the ocean in the sky.

Bare feet step on wet, musky earth, the decay of leaves speeding with the rainfall. Kisame’s chin tilts up, sharp teeth peeking out from slightly parted lips as he lets the precipitation hit him, blend in with whatever saltwater may or may not be left upon his face. What does he feel? More importantly, what should he feel…?

“Kisame.”

The named man gasps. Only a few people get to see Itachi without his Akatsuki cloak; it’s almost like it’s a part of him. But here they are, the hypnotist no longer covered up by the bulky black and red, dressed instead in grays much like that his irises carry much of the time. Well trained, Kisame waits, but unlike usual, Itachi...doesn’t command. Not even with his gaze. There is no clear instruction, and so he hums in growing confusion.

The dark-haired man barely, oh so minutely purses his lips...and he steps forward, joining the shark in nighttime rain. “You’re not well.”

Kisame’s not, but he can’t admit that. “Not any worse than usual,” he shrugs. He avoids Itachi’s stare, the something is still there, still unreadable and therefore bothering him. “You’ll get sick if you stay out here, you know, Itachi-san.”

“I could say the same of you.”

…

“You know that’s different,” the swordsman rebukes, quietly under the hiss of falling drops of rain.

“Kisame.” Itachi could say his name and ask for anything, and Kisame would do it no questions asked. Murder, theft, arson...—

He asks not for these things right now. In disbelief, the man feels a weight press into his side.

“She’s worried about you.”

Ah. Of course. Of course he’s just thinking about her. It’s as Itachi should be; no one else is so well suited to protect a princess as a prince is. But still...that doesn’t make sense. “I gathered as much.”

“Did you?” Itachi challenges, voice soft, gaze still asking for his. “Then why not do something about it?” The beast frowns in disdain.

“...You know very well I can’t indulge what I want.” Three layers to this— three layers at least, two people and one the creeping desire of chaos and death with a sword in his hand. He can’t have his cake and eat it too; he can only pick one. ...And two of them would have to pick him back. That leaves only one sure choice.

Kisame doesn’t notice he’s gritting his teeth until Itachi tells him to stop doing that.

“Relax, Kisame.” And a word, one he’s not used to: “...Please.”

…

The Uchiha is unwavering even as the rain hits his skin, no twitch, no shrug, still as a statue. He's being serious; no mere pretense of it this time. “Promise to take care of yourself, Kisame. Lighten the burden on your shoulders.” In surprise, the named man finally looks back—

His black eyes are so handsome, glittering in the dark like this. It's like stars and the night sky. They’re the same eyes in his dreams, and Kisame’s heart flutters as it knows not what else it can do.

“No person is property,” the Uchiha assures, unbelievably. “I know we spoke before...about how no one could love the likes of us.” He said it. He said the word. Love. He’s never said “love” before—! “...But if you feel it, perhaps you should try. Whatever you feel...it is fine. It’s fine so long as it is wanted.”

Kisame’s own eyes are shaking in his sockets. “Itachi...but...you...—?” Who is he talking about? Him and her? Him and her? Him and...him…?

Itachi won’t answer that. As Kisame responds in silence, the crow realizes the shark still needs time to think, and perhaps he too does as well. It’s a lot, to realize one has affection left in their husk of a body after all. Hope hurts if you let it in all at once, instead of trickling in, sort of like the difference between drowning a flower and watering it every day, same amount given in the end with another result. As such, the touch leaves the knight. Kisame feels so warm that he swears there’s steam coming off of his face.

The rest of moon's hours, he waits for the princess to wake up, hands to himself and a heavy heart confused if it’s guilty or not. The next morning, the clouds are tinged pink and purple as the storm fades to the distance, and she tells him that's what cotton candy looks like. Itachi shows up in time to agree as if he knows, too.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Everybody's falling in love

Everybody's falling in love, oh

Everybody's falling in love but me

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[fcble]

FREEZE FRAME — A series of timestamps taking place over the first leg of Fable’s second world tour.

SATURDAY, APRIL 14, 2:49 PM KST — THE FABLE GROUP CHAT (SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA)

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 17, 10:02 AM PDT — JOSHUA TREE NATIONAL PARK (JOSHUA TREE, CALIFORNIA)

“This is it?” Mingeun asks.

Byeonghwi is inclined to agree with him. They’ve been on the road for almost three hours, having left the comfort of their Los Angeles hotel early in the morning. If not for the sudden loss of buildings in the little town they passed through fifteen minutes ago, he’d swear they weren’t moving. 

“Isn’t it fun?” Andrew asks from the driver’s seat. 

Byeonghwi, stuck in the middle seat of the back row, leans over Haksu to look out the window. As far as he can tell, they came here to look at rocks, sand, some scraggly plants, some more rocks, and surprisingly, a lot of other people and cars. 

“It’s the great American outdoors,” Andrew continues, rolling down all four windows of their rental car. Haksu immediately rolls his back up. 

“It’s just rocks,” Mingeun says, raising his voice over the wind whipping through the windows. 

“And sand,” Byeonghwi adds.

In the passenger seat, Intak reaches toward the center console and skips the next song.

“I like that song,” Haksu complains.

“That’s the third ballad in a row,” Intak says. “It’s putting me to sleep.”

Mingeun fiddles with a small video camera. Byeonghwi wouldn’t put it past him to “accidentally” drop it out of the window. He wishes they could have a vacation without the cameras. He could go anywhere on his own, or with normal people who aren't celebrities, but his closest friends are the rest of Fable. The smallest saving grace is that this time, there's no camera crew. It's just the five of them—Andrew had insisted on driving and told Daewoong in no uncertain terms that he wasn't allowed to come and besides, they wouldn't all fit in the car—and Mingeun’s camera and Haksu's playlist and the great American outdoors.

“Let’s play a game,” Mingeun says, setting up the camera to point to the rather monotonous landscape. “I spy something beige.”

“Is it that rock?” Haksu asks, pointing out the window.

“It was that one that we just passed.” Mingeun points vaguely to the back of the car.

“This is fun,” Andrew repeats, though it seems like it's only fun to him. 

Byeonghwi starts to feel a little bad for him. When he heard they had an extra day of vacation in LA, he thought they might go to Disneyland. He’s always wanted to go to Disneyland. Then Daewoong and Andrew disappeared somewhere last night after their concert, and returned with a car. Byeonghwi woke up to Andrew’s alarm and a Toyota key fob on the nightstand.

“I think it’s fun,” he ventures. It isn’t the full truth, but it isn’t a lie either. It’s fun to spend time with the people he likes, even if they’re stuck in a car all day, because they can’t risk getting lost in the desert one stop into their world tour.

“Thanks, Hwi.” In the rearview mirror, Andrew’s expression is inscrutable behind his sunglasses. 

Intak skips the next two songs on Haksu’s playlist.

Haksu crosses his arms, elbow poking uncomfortably into Byeonghwi’s side. “I don’t understand why we’re listening to my music if you’re just going to skip every song.”

“Intak-hyung can’t have the aux. He’ll make us listen to SoundCloud rap,” Mingeun complains.

“Which is better than lofi beats to chill and fall asleep to,” Intak says.

Byeonghwi always finds it amusing that a group of singers can’t come to a consensus on music to listen to.

Andrew interrupts over both of them, launching into what Byeonghwi takes to be his best argument-defusing method of too many facts. “Did you know this park is around our ages? It was established in 1994.” He sounds like he memorized that from somewhere. “The national park system as a whole owes much of its success to President Teddy Roosevelt. He died for our sins. That’s why we put him on Mount Rushmore.”

“That was Jesus,” Haksu mutters.

But Byeonghwi sees the flash of Andrew’s grin in the mirror, and he knows he said that on purpose. His phone vibrates in his lap, and Byeonghwi unlocks it to see a new group chat consisting of himself, Mingeun, and Haksu. There’s only one message from Mingeun, which reads, if i act like this in canada, push me into the waterfall.

Got it 🫡, Haksu sends back, and Byeonghwi starts to think that maybe looking at a bunch of rocks might be better than Disneyland.

FRIDAY, APRIL 19, 8:29 AM CDT — CIVIL GOAT (AUSTIN, TEXAS)

Andrew probably doesn’t have to be working all the time. Technically, he’s working because Fable is on tour, but in the early hours of the morning, he has no obligations other than the ones he sets himself. He doesn't have to wake up early in the morning and drag Daewoong out to a coffee shop with him so he can do real work. He does it anyway.

His current project isn't anything related to Fable, but a simple review and some feedback for the debut mini album of Zenith Entertainment’s next idol group. Their main songwriter is a fresh-faced, barely twenty-year-old Korean American who asked Andrew for a Gmail address so he could share his music over Google Drive. Andrew felt practically geriatric next to him, like he should be checking into a retirement home soon. Apparently kids these days don't burn demo CDs, which works out for Andrew, because his laptop doesn't have a CD player.

He's just getting into the rhythm of his review of the proposed title track when his thoughts are interrupted by a girl standing much too close to his table, asking, “Can I have your autograph?”

He registers the question first, her WHEN TIGERS USED TO SMOKE: THE FIRST WORLD TOUR sweatshirt next, and her UT Austin lanyard third. A fan, then. “Of course.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Daewoong start to stand across the room. Andrew waves him back down into his chair.

She drops her bag into the seat across from him and rips a page out of a notebook.

Andrew closes his laptop and picks up her proffered gel pen. “What's your name?”

“Hanna. H-A-N-N-A.”

He signs a piece of college-ruled folder paper, scrawling out a simple “thank you for supporting Fable” message alongside his dusty stage name, Yejun, in messy cursive. 

Hanna beams anyway, tucking it away into a folder. “I'll frame it.” It doesn't sound like she's joking.

She busies herself with tucking away her new autograph, but she seems to be lingering, as if she's indecisive about something.

“Let me buy you a coffee,” Andrew says, even though he knows he shouldn't. 

“You don't have to,” Hanna says quickly. “I don't want to bother you. I have to go to class.”

“You aren't bothering me.” Andrew lowers his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “Don’t tell my manager. I'll put it on the company card.”

She smiles at that, and lets Andrew accompany her to the counter.

Andrew's phone buzzes as they wait. He picks it up long enough to read over half a warning message from Daewoong, before dismissing the notification. If Daewoong genuinely means it, he can walk over and demand Andrew leave. Until then, Andrew plans on ignoring him. It's ridiculous that he needs supervision.

Hanna clutches her latte with both hands. It doesn’t look like she’s going to drink it—probably because Andrew bought it for her.

“Thank you so much for the drink,” she says. She takes a deep breath. “I know you probably hear this a lot and it definitely sounds cheesy but I just wanted to tell you that your music has really inspired me. I'm learning how to play the piri because of you. It makes me feel like less of a fraud.”

That’s a feeling Andrew knows all too well. He wishes he wasn’t so intimately acquainted with it. He thinks he should have gotten over it by now, but he hasn’t. He imagines it’ll plague him for his entire life. But none of that is anything he can say in front of a fan, because he’s the idol, and he’s supposed to have his shit together. 

“I’m glad,” he says instead. Every follow-up line he can think of feels hollow and forced, like he memorized it from the playbook of Shit Idols Are Supposed to Say, which he did. “I'm glad I could be someone worth looking up to.” And someone I never thought I needed or wanted when I was younger, Andrew adds silently to himself.

The starstruck expression on Hanna’s face has yet to waver. “I'm really excited for your concert tonight.”

“I'll see you there,” he says, cheesy as it is, because he did read the playbook of Shit Idols Are Supposed to Say. Haksu would be proud.

He watches her pick up her backpack again, putting her drink down for the shortest few seconds. The coffee shop's door swings shut behind her.

And Andrew feels a little better, because it means he’s doing something right. He’s done some good in the world. Then Daewoong strides over to his table, and says, in what might be the coldest tone he’s ever heard, “We're leaving.”

Andrew is getting better at picking his battles, so he packs up his laptop without a complaint. Taein’s new group will have to wait.

MONDAY, APRIL 21, 1:23 AM EDT — THE FABLE GROUP CHAT (NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK)

MONDAY, APRIL 22, 12:49 PM EDT — HORSESHOE FALLS (NIAGARA FALLS, ONTARIO)

So far, Mingeun thinks he’s doing a pretty good job at keeping his cool. It’s easy, because he doesn’t have the same boundless enthusiasm for Canada that Andrew has for America. It looks like he won’t need Haksu to push him over the edge after all. It’d be difficult, anyway, because the guard rail is almost as tall as him, and he’d hit the rocks bordering the falls before the water.

He watches Andrew flip through a glossy pamphlet, oversized sunglasses covering most of his face. Mingeun can sense the way he’s going to share something he just learned, so he excuses himself, leaving Intak to suffer alone. He joins Byeonghwi and Haksu at the rail instead. Byeonghwi is taking everything in with the same wide-eyed innocence he had in every previous city. Haksu is trying to take a selfie without all the crowds in the background. He keeps repositioning himself, holding his phone up, posing, and then frowning at his screen. Mingeun watches him struggle a few times before he intervenes.

“Give me that, hyung,” he says, holding his hand out for Haksu’s phone.

Haksu gives it up without complaint. “You have to get my good side.”

Mingeun rolls his eyes. “Every side is your good side.”

“I know. I was making sure you knew it too.”

Mingeun stands back and makes sure part of his finger is over the camera lens in a few of the pictures. It won’t make Haksu any less cocky or more humble, but it amuses Mingeun. He hands the phone back to Haksu, watching closely for his reaction.

“For an idol, you’re really bad at taking pictures,” Haksu says. “What’s this?”

Mingeun peers over his shoulder at a picture of shapeless pink blob with the barest hint of the waterfall in the background. “You,” he says, unable to keep the smile out of his voice.

“That’s not what I look like!” Haksu squawks.

Mingeun takes a step back and pretends to consider him. “I don’t know. I see a resemblance. What do you think, Hwi?” He tugs at Byeonghwi’s shoulder and shoots him one of his characteristic death glares with the silent message to play along. Byeonghwi can be a bit of a killjoy sometimes, and that's not what Mingeun wants right now.

To his relief, Byeonghwi seems to get it. He shades Haksu's phone screen with his hand, looking intently at the picture. “I think Mingeun-hyung is right.”

Haksu pouts, sticking out his bottom lip so far it almost looks like he might cry. “You're both terrible.”

“I know,” Mingeun says, content with his antics. Haksu makes a good victim because he always bounces back. In a few hours, he'll recover perfectly fine and tweet the good pictures of himself. Mingeun doesn't doubt it.

THURSDAY, APRIL 25, 10:33 PM BST — HILTON LONDON BANKSIDE (LONDON, ENGLAND)

“We have a special guest with us tonight,” Mingeun says. He flips his phone around so that its screen is visible to their live broadcast camera. The remnants of their room service dinner peek into the bottom of the frame, phone and plates resting on the same hotel room desk, but Mingeun either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. Byeonghwi pushes his plate out of view.

“Hello, everyone.” On screen, Eunsu waves with both hands. He’s silhouetted by what appears to be his bed, plain blue covers draping almost to the floor. Byeonghwi reaches over Mingeun and increases the phone’s volume. “It’s been a long time.”

Eunsu always says the same thing every time he’s in a setting like this. This time around, Byeonghwi has to admit it’s accurate. He can’t remember the last time they’ve done anything like this. Eunsu commenting on Mingeun’s Instagram posts doesn’t count. 

“If you don’t know me,” Eunsu says, “I used to be Fable's lead rapper. Now I'm a normal citizen and Mingeun's best friend.”

Byeonghwi doesn't think there are any other idol groups with such a public relationship with their former members. But Eunsu left on good terms, and he never wanted to leave, so Byeonghwi thinks they're different.

“What’s the topic for your live?” Eunsu asks.

Mingeun shrugs. “I don’t know. I didn’t pick one. You can decide.”

“One butt or two butts,” Eunsu suggests, but Mingeun dismisses him almost immediately.

“Old news. What about whether or not you should be able to sing if you want to be an idol?”

Byeonghwi shoots Mingeun a wide-eyed, worried glance. He resists the urge to turn around and check how Daewoong, sprawled out on a mountain of pillows on one of the king-sized beds, out of sight but within earshot, is reacting to Mingeun's proposal. It's more topical, sure, but he doesn't want to cause controversy.

“I’m joking,” Mingeun says. He doesn’t sound like he’s joking. “There isn’t anything to discuss.”

“Five Mingeuns or five-year-old Mingeun,” Eunsu proposes, changing the subject with the speed and alacrity of someone well-accustomed to Mingeun.

That’s an old debate too, but this time, Mingeun has a different complaint. “Why is it always me?”

“Haksu-hyung,” Byeonghwi suggests, and watches Mingeun’s expression light up.

“Let’s all answer at the same time,” Mingeun says. “One, two, three.”

“Five-year-old Haksu-hyung,” Byeonghwi says at the exact same time as Mingeun. Eunsu follows with the same answer a second later, delayed by the slight lag of FaceTime.

Byeonghwi could have predicted that. Five Haksus would be unbearable, and everyone else present knows that too.

“That’s what I thought,” Eunsu says, sounding almost sad. “Is there anyone you would pick five of? Present company, for me.”

“Andrew-hyung,” Byeonghwi answers next.

Of course Mingeun has to disagree with that too. “Five-year-old Andrew would have too much to say.”

“And five of him wouldn’t?” Eunsu asks.

“I wouldn’t mind five of Jaeseop-hyung. Or Intak-hyung,” Mingeun continues like Eunsu didn’t say anything.

“You have to pick five of Intak-hyung,” Byeonghwi argues. “We’d lose him if he was five. He’d be too quiet and go missing.”

“That’s better,” Eunsu says, interrupting the end of Byeonghwi’s explanation. “He’s the opposite of Andrew-hyung. All we have to do is give him an iPad. He won’t go anywhere.”

Despite the slight delay in Eunsu’s responses, it almost feels like he’s in the room with them. Byeonghwi lets Mingeun and Eunsu’s careful dissection of five vs five year olds for every Fable member fade into the background. He’s always been something of a third wheel next to the two of them. The years that have passed since Eunsu’s departure dissolve in public interactions like this. It’s like he’s still one of them, and it makes it impossible for any of them to move on. 

And at times like this, when Byeonghwi is sitting in a hotel room of a foreign country, he feels almost guilty. It was Eunsu’s dream to be an idol to escape his small hometown and see the world. Why is he the one here instead, achieving a dream that was never his at all?

Mingeun kicks Byeonghwi’s leg under the desk. “You’re spacing out. Thinking about the worst five-year-old Haksu scenarios?”

“Yeah. They’re pretty bad,” Byeonghwi says. This isn’t his dream, but it is his job, so he plasters a smile on and continues Mingeun’s conversation.

SATURDAY, APRIL 27, 10:14 AM BST / 11:14 AM CEST — AIR FRANCE FLIGHT 1381 (SOMEWHERE OVER THE ENGLISH CHANNEL)

The roar of the jet engines drowns out any other noise, and that gives Haksu the confidence to take out a small camera. That, and he’s bored. The flight is only a little over an hour, but they’ve been on so many planes over the past two weeks that he’s exhausted everything he downloaded from Netflix and the majority of the same handful of in-flight entertainment options available on every flight.

“Mingeun-ah,” he says softly, poking Mingeun in the shoulder. “Where are we?”

“What?” Mingeun cracks one eye open, Haksu having interrupted his dozing off in his seat. Then he notices the camera. “Turn that shit off, hyung. McDonald's. Nike. Coca-Cola. Samsung.”

Haksu pouts and lowers the camera. “You’re no fun.”

Mingeun yawns and rubs his eyes. “Fine. I’ll do it. Ask your question again.”

Haksu doesn't really trust Mingeun not to mess it up again, so he does the exposition himself. He turns the camera on himself, so the two of them are in frame together. “We're going to France!” he stage-whispers. “It’s my first time, and I'm looking forward to it a lot.”

Then he turns in his seat and faces Mingeun. “Say something in French.”

He watches through the camera’s preview as Mingeun says, “Croissant. Cafeteria. Montreal.”

Haksu sighs, still disappointed. “I'll ask Andrew-hyung instead.”

The click of his seat belt unbuckling somehow cuts through the road of the engines. He kneels in his seat, pointing the camera over the back of his seat to where Andrew and Intak are locked in an intense game of air hockey on Intak's iPad. 

“Have you heard of Paris syndrome?” Andrew asks without looking up. The puck disappears into the virtual goal on Intak’s side.

Haksu stops the recording again. He trusts their video editors to somehow spin Mingeun's words, but not whatever Andrew is presenting him with. “I don’t have any kind of syndrome.”

Intak takes his iPad back. “It’s not something you need to worry about.”

Haksu can’t tell if his comment is meant to be demeaning, or if it’s just Intak being Intak. He ignores it and moves on, starting to feel slightly ridiculous as he turns the camera on again. “Have you been to France before?” he asks, deciding he doesn’t want to hear whatever French drivel Andrew will provide him with if prompted. He knows the answer to this question too, but the camera doesn’t.

“Once, when I was in college,” comes Andrew’s predictable response.

“Did you like it? Are you looking forward to performing there?” Haksu prompts. He’s used to conversations with Intak being akin to pulling teeth. Having the same experience with Andrew was unexpected.

“Of course,” he answers through gritted teeth. It comes with the silent assurance that he wouldn’t dream of saying anything else. “I thought you were bothering Mingeun.”

Haksu sighs, resting his chin on the top of his seat. “Mingeun’s boring.”

Mingeun jabs him in the side. “Am not.”

Haksu drops back into his seat, any thought of recording anything replaced with exacting his revenge on Mingeun. 

Daewoong’s icy baritone interrupts his thoughts. “You’re behaving like children. Sit down.” He stands in the aisle, looming over Haksu’s seat. “Camera, Haksu.”

He hands it over without complaint, leaning away from Daewoong and onto Mingeun, who pushes him off only half-heartedly. For once, it seems like Mingeun is actively trying not to cause problems.

Daewoong returns to his seat and Haksu rights himself in his.

“Your fault,” Mingeun whispers.

“Yours, actually,” Haksu whispers back, unwilling to take the blame for something he was provoked into doing. 

Mingeun shrugs. “Whatever.” Then he goes back to listening to his music, leaving Haksu to stew alone in silence.

MONDAY, APRIL 29, 3:49 PM KST — THE FABLE GROUP CHAT (SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA)

[georgieluz]

for day 5 of band of brothers appreciation week i present to you a lewis nixon playlist because if anyone is gonna fit the prompt of 'angst' it's gonna be this lil goose. there are too many nix songs so i really had to narrow them down to fit

you'll never fumigate the demons, no matter how much you smoke, just say you love me, for three good reasons

don't let me go back to darkness of blue

i'm wasted, don't leave, i just need a wake-up call

there's an ache in you put there by the ache in me

can't not think of all the cost and the things that will be lost

if you wanna use me then you gotta use me til i'm gone

we all started out as shiny dimes, but we all got flipped too many times, we did it for futures that never came and for pasts that we're never gonna change

this was the place that i grew up, now it's ashes to ashes, memories filling my cup, it comes in flashes, but when it passes and i see your eyes, i know, there's nothing i'll ever find better, i think i'd rather die alone together

how do you know if it was worth it in the end? did every second really count or were there some you shouldn't spend

the more i keep them all inside, the more they bury me alive

i'm in a cyclone, i'm spinning, crashed through the floor, don't give me heaven i'm flying, tearing down the doors

picturing the face of a younger man, he buries it away, cause he's gotta try and cope in a way he understands

it was a lie when they smiled and said you won't feel a thing

i'm a stitch away from making it and a scar away from falling apart, blood cells pixelate and eyes dilate

when the story comes to an end, will it be the same again? when all the king's horses and all the king's men, they couldn't put you back together again

diamonds do appear to be just like broken glass to me

gone now are the old times

the fire drowns me inside, now darling i'm a mess

set my wings ablaze cause i thought you would barely notice

jack drinks and smokes his cares away, his heart is in a lonely way, living in the ruins of a castle built on sand

achilles, achilles, just put down the bottle

[seeking-sanity]

Climbing Mountains

I never imagined myself hiking a mountain. 4,802ft at that... I never had a desire to spend time walking up a hill to walk back down, just to say I did it.

What I also never knew, was how much that hike would change my self reflection.

I have struggled with so many esteem issues. Weight being my "best handled", self-acceptance, self-worth, personal value, capability... being fully transparent, I didn't think I would ACTUALLY do it. I've never done more than hills, and really avoided those at most costs. I wanted to do this, because I was challenged. I wanted to do this because I said I could... to someone willing to hold me accountable.

I woke up far too early on a Saturday, completely ill-prepared... Ate the wrong breakfast [and regretted it for the rest of the day], drank too much water too fast, and wanted to quit on myself more times than I would ever admit...

I heard a man that has patiently showed me a kind love, a caring compassion, a friendly banter; tell me I could do it. Over and over. "just keep taking the next step, you got this." he was probably sick of saying it... I heard the sincerity in his voice at the trail head as he promised me we could turn back at any point...

we had driven 4 hours in moderately annoying traffic. I insisted on blasting a mystery playlist a zune I had incidently recently found and charged. I sang in my out of tune, doesn't really know all the proper lyrics and makes em up as I go, top of my lungs, 2000s angst voice.

He laughed at me and gently persuaded the skip button through the most annoying songs of our youth. Limewire downloads that digitally decayed over time, only one skip away from finding a vintage CD collection and a discman with the OG skull candy...

I insisted on bug spray, pushing the "i got this" confidence to the max with the deet 40 and fly spray... he spent the entire day helping me acheive goals I didn't know I had...

We got to the top of the moutain in 5 hours, the goal was 4 up 4 down. We made our day in 8. With breaks, and pictures, and a backpackers lunch at the summit. We shared a few moments with other hikers along the way... but what I didn't realize, until now- weeks later... we shared something more- trust.

I trusted this man with my life. Literally. I trusted him to accept my limits, push my boundaries, and accepted his encouragement when I had nothing left in me. We stood together on a 4802ft mountain, but it was the absolute top of the world.

It has been my experience, that people don't invest in people like me. People don't put effort into climbing walls, breaking gates, tending gardens filled with every sign of neglect. It would have been easy for him to quit on me too. To turn back, to act in any manner other than the gentle strength he shared to get me there.

It has been my experience that people I would do anything for, will do so little in return. I have raised children I didn't bear, paid bills that were not my own, funded vacations to places I didn't want to see. I have always only ever gotten what was easy. Effort, rarely at best.

This man... this kind, sweet man- has only ever gotten the most authentic me. the "take me as I am", the hardened shell after abusive heartbreak. He has gotten the reaction to assumed intention, the lash out of familiar behaviors even though he didn't follow the trend, he has gotten the "i'm not running, but I'm not trying either" version of me most of the time...

Not to say I'm reckless. Or that I disregard his feelings. I just- was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to fall into fitting the same mold...

This man proves daily, in a thousand consistent ways, he is different.

I don't beg for attention, I don't lack it either. I don't exhaust myself looking for activities, he makes an effort to plan dates too. I don't search for a connection constantly, insecure that it will cease to exist at any time... it just blooms. Like mountain laurel on the appalachain, beautiful. simple. strong, well rooted.

I climbed a mountain, with a man I wanted to spend time with. What I found on top of that mountain, was the insight to a man that was finding ways to show me everything beautiful. To share the moment with me.

The top of that mountain was a moment I hadn't even thought about, taking credit for the work it took to get there. The "don't quit" that was said so gently, screaming echos in my soul... he believed in me, for what seemed impossible to me.

We hiked back down that mountain, my whole body felt different. I appreciated it more. I was capable. I am strong. I walked beside the man that is making me believe I am as beautiful as the sun rising over the peaks... I hiked down that mountain with a confidence, a feeling of overwhelming success. Everyone else has quit on me, fell short of being willing to cheer me on for one more step... I conquer a mountain with a man that didn't quit for either of us. He never lost patience, never lost confidence in making it to the top- and back down- and out. My steps were so much lighter. Recognizing the gift that hike was. For me, believing I could do it. For me, excited to take on more. For me, seeing a man stand beyond every trauma response pre-determined thought process... For me, making it beyond the self imposed limits, walls- that I had so carefully lived behind...

I walked down that mountain leaving behind every insecurity I had let the past burden me with. I walked down the mountain next to a man willing to stand beside me for ALL the mountains, all the ups and downs. A man willing to believe in me, even when it is hard. That keeps rooting for us, when I'm letting me drag us down. That is willing to take ONE.MORE.STEP with me.

We left that trail head, and sat in the car... exhausted. 11.41 miles of pushing my body and mind to its self imposed limits. I looked at him, smiling a big goofy smile. He laughed a little, and asked me what mountain I wanted to do tomorrow.

Do the thing you didn't think you'd ever do. Believe you can do it. Go for the one you always wondered about...

Climb the mountain.

[latetaektalk]

(road)tripping for you | jjk

“it was just supposed to be a roadtrip; your best friend, her boyfriend, his best friend, and you. but it gets a little more complicated (and a whole lot more awkward) when your best friend and her boyfriend have to drop out and you’re left to go on the trip with none other than jeon jungkook, a complete stranger. well, a complete stranger except for the fact that you hooked up two years ago.”

— genre: roadtrip! AU, strangers to lovers! AU, only-one-bed! AU, summer! AU, fluff, a bit of angst

— pairing: jungkook x female reader

— word count: 31.071

— warnings: cursing, light alcohol consumption, awkward situations, clichés

— playlist: click here

— a/n: alright im happy and incredibly nervous to present this baby !! its completely self-indulgent, cheesy as shit, and not really edited, so i hope you guys enjoy! id also like to thank lira @koocycle​ for listening to me cry about this fic!! couldnt have done this without you! also, this is my entry for @ficscafe​’s exchange event, written for @jeonsweetheart​​ !! i really do hope you enjoy this one and sorry that this is so long! i uh also stalked your blog a bit and was inspired by how you assign a song to every fic, so i did the same! hope you dont mind!! my pick for this au is “safety net” by ariana grande !!  also, the amazing and incredibly talented @st-octavius​ has drawn one of the scene which you can find here!! ​a huge honour, so please check it out and send her lots of love!! do be aware that it contains spoilers for the story!

— lyric: tripping, falling, with no safety net 

The summer is always too short.

The realisation comes to you while you’re waiting in the car and fanning yourself with a make-shift paper fan because the AC broke two weeks ago and you haven’t had the money to get it fixed yet, waiting for Sooyoung who just walked into the convenience store to buy some snacks. 

You look out to your left. The sun’s still high up in the sky for how late it is, bleeding its last bit of light into the clouds. Couples and families are walking past you, chatting and laughing, holding melting ice cream in their hands. You hear the laughter of children playing tag down the street, another handful are chasing each other with a water gun. Through the cracked window, you feel the warm and humid air come in, hitting your cheek. It’s at that moment you realise it.

It’s sad.

But at the same time, you realise it’s fitting. Summer arrives with magic every year—the nights somehow seeming endless, the days stuffed with almost suffocating and paralysing potential, indeterminate relationships and friendships, and the air filled with infinite possibilities and promises, all within reach, so close and still not close enough, a hopeful humming accompanying it. It’s reeling. 

So of course, time passes quicker. Of course, summer is fading and fleeting. Of course, it’s all over in the blink of an eye. It’s magical after all.

It’s that magic that prompted you to ask out your crush your sophomore year (you (fortunately) lasted less than a handful of months), that gave you the foolish courage to cut your hair with a pair of blunt kitchen scissors at two in the morning your junior year (it was a disaster), and made you climb out of your window Tangled style after you got grounded so you could spend the last days of summer with your friends under the night sky your senior year (some of the greatest nights of your life). 

It’s the same magic that provokes you to turn to Sooyoung and ask her this when she comes back with an armful of snacks (without the Cheerios you asked for though).

“You wanna go on a roadtrip?”

It’s a stupid idea you conclude halfway through planning.

Because three issues come up. First, neither of you have much saved up (read: barely anything), which makes paying for the hotel stays and the car you’re going to rent (since yours is shit and Sooyoung doesn’t have one) a lot more difficult. And second, Sooyoung can’t drive, which would make you the only driver, which obviously, you can’t be on a cross country roadtrip. Last but not least, Sooyoung’s and Namjoon’s two year anniversary is coming up, and while she hasn’t made it the official third issue, you know she doesn’t want to spend their anniversary apart.

But Sooyoung somehow comes up with a solution to all of the problems.

For the first (and third) issue, she suggests taking Namjoon with you. This way you can split the costs for the hotels and the car. And obviously, if he’s on the trip too, they won’t be apart during their anniversary. You’re more than happy with the solution. The same can’t be said about the solution she suggests for the second issue.

“Look, if he came along, we’d have a second driver and—” You walk over to the snacks section but Sooyoung follows you, her grocery list long forgotten. “—we could split the costs of the hotels and car by four!”

You closely examine two poorly designed bags of cookies, neither looking all that appealing, pretending like you couldn’t hear her. You go with the cheaper option.

“Y/N,” Sooyoung says and pokes you in the ribs. You flinch and almost drop the cookies. You give her a scowl. “Consider it?”

“I already said no.” You turn on your heel and walk away.

“Please, Y/N,” she whines, catching up with you and blocking your way. 

You purse your lips and narrow your eyes. “Can’t someone else come with? Does it have to be him?”

“Kook’s Joon’s best friend,” Sooyoung says, and you cringe at the nickname. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to her calling him that. “They’ve actually also talked about going on a roadtrip before, you know? So when I mentioned it…”

She trails off, but you don’t need her to keep talking. You know where she’s getting at.

“No, Soo, I just-” You cut yourself short, and shake your head. “It’s just so embarrassing. I bailed, dude. I didn’t even bother to wait for him to wake up and shit.”

The image materialises in front of your eyes; the morning you woke up next to the doe-eyed boy you never thought you would get this close to, or even talk to. It feels like a fever dream. Not only is it unlike you to hook up with a stranger, but of all people, you could have fallen into bed with it was Jeon Jungkook? Sometimes you’re convinced it was all just a fever dream, it never happened, until you remember you forgot your keys at his place in your haze. Your lost keys remain the only piece of evidence that stops you from convincing yourself you only hallucinated it all.

“Yeah, but it was two years ago!”

You scrunch your face. You’ve heard this all before, and you don’t want to hear it again, so you walk past Sooyoung and head for the checkout, placing the cookies on the conveyor belt. 

“Y/N, can’t you at least think about it?”

“I have.”

“No, you haven’t,” she hisses. “You immediately said no! You didn’t even take a second to consider it.”

You look at her. “Soo, you know exactly how I feel about this- him. Don’t force me to be stuck in a car with him, please.”

Sooyoung opens her mouth but is interrupted by the cashier. The arguing ceases then, and you’re grateful. The peace doesn’t last long though, Sooyoung picking up right where you left off as soon as you finish paying.

“You make it seem like you guys have some major history when you just hooked up. And that was two years ago! It’s been ages! There’s literally no reason for you to still avoid Kook.”

You dig out your keys and unlock your car, slipping into it just to regret it. You groan because even though you made sure to park in the shade, the sun had moved when you were in the store and turned your car into a goddamn sauna. You feel your skin glueing to your seat. Ew. 

You keep the door open to let in some air, and you’re about to tell Sooyoung to do the same, but she interrupts you.

“I actually think he has forgotten about you,” she says, and you toss the cookies in the backseat and tuck your hair out of your face, grabbing your make-shift paper fan. It doesn’t bring much relief, but it’s better than nothing. 

The comment, although you should be happy about it because it’s all you want, irks you the tiniest bit. Because you haven’t. You haven’t even begun to forget him, and the thought it might not be the same for him, that you didn’t leave a single mark in his mind, it hurts a bit

“You think?”

“I know.”

“And how do you know?” 

“Because in the past two years he’s never brought you up, or even alluded to you or the night,” she argues.

“That’s because he doesn’t know my name,” you say. “Probably only knows me by my face. I’m probably that dumb girl that left her keys at his place in his mind.”

Sooyoung sighs, rolling her eyes at your stubbornness. “He’s really nice! You’d know if you would have just gone out with us once.” 

When Sooyoung and Namjoon started dating, it didn’t take long for your two friend groups to grow into a big one, the two organising parties and meetups. You never participated in anything when there was even the smallest chance of Jungkook being there too. No one ever noticed.

“And he’s also really funny-”

“Date him then,” you mumble, which earns you a deserved hit against your arm.

“Y/N, you know I’m in a happy relationship with Joon!” 

“So you’d date him if you weren’t with-”

Another hit.

You laugh, but Sooyoung doesn’t join you, glowering at you instead, and you wonder how this conversation took this turn so quickly. Minutes ago she was giving you puppy eyes and begging you to think about it and now she’s scowling at you and scolding you like a mother.

“I’m serious, Y/N. And before you say we’ll do it next year, you know exactly we won’t. It’s like when you said you’d stop buying so many books this year, or when I said, I’d learn Spanish. The moment we postpone the trip, we’re not doing it anymore, and you know that.” Sooyoung stares into your eyes, waiting for you to say something. When you don’t—because unfortunately, she’s right, and you don’t want to admit that—, she sighs. She takes your hands into hers and tosses your paper fan to the side. 

“Hey-”

“Y/N, look,” you quiet down when you see the stare she gives you, “I don’t want to force you into anything. I’m gonna respect your boundaries if you really don’t want him on the trip—” You hear the ‘but’ before she even says it. “—but I promise you first, Kook doesn’t remember. Second, even if he does, he’s not gonna be weird about it. And third, I know he won’t be weird about it because Kook’s probably one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met.”

You think Sooyoung’s done, but she opens her mouth again. “Also,” she sits up, “Joon and I are gonna be there too! So even if it’s weird, which I highly doubt, we’ll serve as buffers! And if you don’t wanna talk to him, you don’t have to either. No one’s saying you have to become friends with Kook, but it’s just-”

She deflates after. She can’t find the right words, but it’s fine. You know what she’s trying to say. You’re not stupid. Without Jungkook this trip won’t be happening. It’s as simple as that.

You sigh and close your eyes. You do realise how ridiculous how you’re acting right now. Like Sooyoung has pointed out, your history only consists of one drunken night. It’s barely anything. Bits and pieces. Scraps really. But it’s enough to have your cheeks burning up.

But if Sooyoung’s right, if Jungkook has actually forgotten about you (which wouldn’t be so unlikely since it’s been two years and you’re sure he’s hooked up with other girls in the meantime), you really don’t have anything to worry about. But if Sooyoung’s not right and he brings it up, you’re fucked. You don’t think you can handle the embarrassment, the questions of why you so rudely fled in the morning. 

On the other hand, you really do want to go on the roadtrip. You think it’d be the perfect way to spend the summer, stretch it out a bit more, fill it with memories you’re going to look back on fondly in a few years. You think it would be the perfect way to savour the summer. It’s all you want, to spend time with your best friend and make memories.

You look at Sooyoung. She’s still staring at you. She’s going to wait for your answer, however long it takes. Because (and you know that) she’s convinced it might just be a ‘yes’. You heave out a sigh.

She’s right, unfortunately. You hope the same will be the case with Jungkook.

“Fine.”

It’s almost comical how quickly her face lights up, the corners of her lips turning up into a gigantic grin.

“Wait, really?” she gasps quietly, clasping her hands together, almost like in a prayer. “You’re sure about this?”

No, you’re not, not even a bit. But the things you would do to ensure a great summer with your best friend. You sigh and nod. Just as Sooyoung’s about to burst, you shove your finger into her face.

“But promise me,” you stare her down, “that you’ll stick with me. You can’t leave me hanging!”

She quickly nods, so vigorously you think her head’s going to fall off. “I won’t. I won’t. Don’t worry, Joon doesn’t exist on the trip. You’re my sole focus, I swear.”

“So you promise me?”

Sooyoung stares you down. “Y/N, I promise you I won’t leave you hanging.”

You smile at each other. It’s decided then. Jungkook’s coming on the trip too. You can already feel regret building up in you.

“Also, we gotta get back inside. I didn’t buy shit.” Sooyoung produces her grocery list from her pocket.

You roll your eyes. “You better be quick.”

In your years of friendship with Sooyoung, she has only ever let you down two times. 

The first time was in your sophomore year when you had just begun dating your first boyfriend and told your parents you were going to stay over at her place and she screwed up covering for you, which led to you getting a three hour long lecture on honesty and being in a relationship so young.

The second time was two years ago when she forgot to tell you she was going to leave the party early with a certain dimpled boy from her Chem class because you’re convinced if she had, you wouldn’t have wandered around looking for her and landed in the arms of a certain doe-eyed boy. Yes, you blame Sooyoung for you hooking up with Jungkook, at least partially.

But those two occasions were the only times she’s ever let you down. Today, however, marks the third time, and this time it’s bad.

Because when Jungkook pulls up to your apartment, Sooyoung and Namjoon aren’t standing next to you like they should be. And they’re also not running late. No, they’re in a completely different city.

Your emotional state is confusing; somehow you’re nervous and pissed off at the same time. It’s hard to find a balance, to think straight with both emotions brewing inside you.

You think time stretches thin when you watch Jungkook park and get out, eyes meeting yours before searching for the two familiar faces. You can’t figure out if he recognises you or not as he walks up to you. Your heart tumbles more and more with every step he takes.

“Hey,” he greets you, and you can see traces of a smile on his lips.

You search for something in his eyes, anything that will tell you if he remembers you, if you look familiar to him at all, but you find nothing. Either there’s really nothing and Sooyoung’s right, or you’re simply too nervous to process this entire thing to analyse the situation at hand.

“Uh, hi,” you breathe out, sounding vaguely out of breath and reedy. You scrunch your nose.

“Where’s Joon and Soo?”

And with that question, you decide he doesn’t recognise you. Maybe you’re wrong, but it’s the conclusion you decide to come to. It’s the only one that allows your voice to gain some firmness, that allows your mind to clear up a bit, that has the nervosity simmering down to a light bubble, allowing space for your anger at the situation at hand.

“They’re not here.”

“Wait,” he frowns, and looks behind you, like maybe he overlooked them somehow, “where are- oh, are they late? Did they text-”

He’s about to pull out his phone, but you stop him, dropping the news on him.

“They’re not coming.”

Jungkook snaps his gaze to you then, a knit forming between his brows.

“What do you mean they aren’t coming?” 

He stares at you with huge eyes, doe eyes so big you think they’re about to fall out. One good slap on the back of his head and they’re out. You’re sure. 

You sigh and close your eyes, your jaw on the verge of breaking. Sooyoung’s dead.

“They just called me,” you hold up your phone as if you needed proof, “and well, turns out they’re out of town and stuck there because the railway companies went on strike.” 

You press your lips together. “They aren’t coming.”

Jungkook stares at you like you’ve just grown a second head, and you can’t blame him. It took you a number of “Wait, wait, wait, what?”s and “You’re kidding, right?”s to process this information too.

He presses his hand to his forehead. “So, what?” The knit between his brows deepen as he comes to the same realisation you came to just a few minutes prior, leading to you cursing out Sooyoung over the phone. “It’s just you and me? No Joon? No Soo?”

You reluctantly nod.

Jungkook blinks at you in total five times before he reacts again, his face morphing into something you can’t pinpoint. It’s something between worry and fear, you think.

“Can’t we go pick them up?” he suggests, a proposal you’ve already made.

“No,” you begin and look into the distance, repeating what Sooyoung told you over the phone. “The issue is that we already booked all of our hotels, so if we were to pick them up, our reservations would fall through. And no, they also don’t let you reschedule either. I guess that’s the service you get when you book the cheapest hotels possible.”

You can see Jungkook think, desperate to find a solution to this. You want to tell him that you’ve thought about it all already, that you don’t want to go on a roadtrip with just him either, but you refrain, pressing the tip of your tongue to the roof of your mouth.

He lets out a hollow chuckle when he comes up with no solution. The sound arises from the back of his throat. It’s meant to lighten the mood, you think. “Well, what fucking genius suggested booking our hotels beforehand?”

You let the question hang in the air for a moment, scrunching your nose and looking down to your shoes before answering, fingers fumbling in front of your stomach.

“I did.”

Jungkook quiets then. Maybe you should have bitten your tongue and not said it.

“Well, I mean,” he scrambles, “you couldn’t have known-”

“I mean it’s not just the hotels,” you interrupt, probably saving Jungkook from embarrassing himself further and possibly even insulting you again. “We also already rented the car.” You gesture behind him. “And Soo and Joon also don’t want to inconvenience us. They said they’d take the next train back and try to, uh, catch up with us.”

He nods then. A prolonged silence stretches between you like gum, sticky and gross. You don’t look at him, and he doesn’t look at you. 

In the end, he speaks first again, clearing his throat. “So, uh, we’re going on this trip together then?”

You press your lips together and tuck a strand behind your ear, still refusing to meet his gaze. It’s almost ironic how good the weather is today, perfect for a roadtrip, a roadtrip you no longer want to go on.

“Unless you want your money to go to waste, yeah, seems like it.”

Jungkook stares at you, and then nods. You look down at your suitcase and put your hand on it. 

This is happening.

You heave out a long sigh.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Sooyoung tells you, and you know there’s an apologetic look plastered on her face. But it does nothing to calm your anger, your grip on your phone only tightening. “I genuinely feel so bad, Y/N. I swear. I’m truly so sorry.”

“If you’re so sorry—” You look out the window to make sure he’s nowhere. All you see is a stressed-out father hushing his kids back into the car, the gas pump still in his right hand. “—how about you get your ass here right now?”

Sooyoung’s quiet for a moment, and you know she’s looking over to Namjoon. She sighs under her breath, running a hand through her hair. 

“Y/N, I explained it to you, I-I can’t,” she whispers, sounding as guilt-ridden as she did when she called you to tell you she screwed up covering for you. “I wish I could, but we’re stuck here. We-we can’t get away.”

You shut your eyes, feeling the rigidness of your jaw. Deep down, you know this is out of Sooyoung’s control. Still, you can’t help but spit, “I just don’t get why you guys had to go out of town a day before our trip! Just- what were you thinking?”

It’s then that you hear Namjoon in the background ask Sooyoung to hand him the phone, and although she tries to protest, the next thing you hear is his voice.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Joon, hey.” You try your best to not sound annoyed, emphasis on try.

“Please don’t be mad at Soo. This is my fault. I’m the one that organised this and brought her out here. So blame me.”

You curse under your breath. When Namjoon does this—taking full responsibility for everything, putting the blame solely on himself—, you find it incredibly hard to stay mad. And it’s all you want to be because you’re stuck in a shitty situation. You need to be mad! You have every right to! 

You heave out a sigh and curse. “I guess neither of you could have foreseen this, huh?” 

You can practically hear Namjoon nod, and knowing him, he’s probably making his ‘yeah, exactly!’ face, the one Sooyoung adores so much. 

“Yeah, this was just meant to be a one-day thing for our anniversary, you know?” 

You cringe in disgust and annoyance, not wanting to be reminded that the only reason why Sooyoung and Namjoon are out of town right now is because he wanted to be a romantic and spend some time on their own for their anniversary. You feel awfully single and lonely all of a sudden. 

“I’m sorry.”

You close your eyes. “It’s fine.” 

There’s a moment of silence, and you know exactly what Sooyoung’s about to ask. Your face sours when you turn out to be right. 

“Uh, where’s Kook by the way?” 

“He’s getting gas,” you say. He’s certainly taking his time, you think. You don’t mind now because you get to talk to Sooyoung for a bit, but you hope it won’t be like this for the rest of the trip.

“How’s it going?” she asks, and you hate that you can hear the smile on her face. “You guys bonding?”

“You know if I hadn’t paid for the car and hotels already, there would be no way I’d be here right now, right? If I could have somehow cancelled it all and gotten my money back, I would have?” you tell her, wanting- no, needing to make it very clear to her that you aren’t on this trip by choice, that if you could have not gone and still gotten all of your money back, you would have.

“But for your information, no, we’re not bonding. We just drove in silence for the last ten minutes until he pulled over for gas. It was awful,” you spit.

“Well, I’m sure it won’t be like this for the rest of the trip. Right, Joon?”

And like the supportive boyfriend that he is, Namjoon’s quick to agree. “Yeah, Kook’s really shy and awkward with strangers.”

“You guys just need some time to warm up,” Sooyoung adds, and you hope it’s just that.

“Or I was right,” you mutter, shuddering at the thought. 

So far he hasn’t mentioned anything, but so far your interactions were limited, consisting of you explaining the dilemma you were in, you struggling to load your suitcase into the trunk, a process in which he got into the car and watched you in the rearview mirror, and you two sitting in silence before he (rather abruptly) announced he needed gas and turned into the next gas station.

You don’t remember this awkwardness hanging between you two years ago. But truth be told, you only remember the night in fragments, like a montage in a film, a few handful of images stuck in your brain, nothing concise, pieces of an unfinished film roll—the smile he gave you when you accidentally ran into him, the laugh he coaxed out of you with a joke you wouldn’t remember even if you had been sober at the time, the game of beer pong you won together; and at some point, his place, sitting on the couch, whispers of are you sure? spoken into one another’s ears, whispers that turned from questions into something more delicate, and slowly, also more daring; the taste of alcohol on his lips when he first kissed you, brief and shy, before diving back in, braver this time, almost eager; tender hands that quickly wandered, going beyond where they should be, pieces of garments discarded left and right, a trail to his bedroom; the layer of sweat coating your skin, the air you gasped for however stifling, before finally, in the end, slumber, quiet and peaceful, with smiles on your faces.

You shudder. For once, you want nothing more than to be wrong. You don’t want him to remember you. And before you can hear Sooyoung assuring you of just that (because obviously, that’s what she’s going to say), the sight of Jungkook walking out of the gas station, hands full with snacks, catches your eye.

“Oh.”

That’s why he was taking so long.

“‘Oh’? What did you see?”Sooyoung asks, and you’re too confused to answer her. “Y/N?”

“Uh, yeah, sorry.” You snap out of it. “He’s, uh, coming back. Gotta hang up.”

“Well, yeah, go hang up. Please have a fun time with-”

You end the call before Sooyoung can finish, partially because Jungkook’s getting awfully close, but mostly because you don’t want to hear the rest of her sentence.

“Hey,” he mumbles quietly when he slips inside and you return his greeting, adding a quick and awkward wave too, gripping your phone. “Sorry for the- for keeping you waiting.”

You wave him off. He stares at the snacks. You think he’s going to hand you a bag, offer you some chips or nuts, tell you it’s meant for your trip, to keep your stomachs full, but he just reaches behind and puts them in the back. (After all, you’ve got more than enough space.) 

So those are for him, you conclude with a scrunch of a nose, just for him. But that’s alright. He’s not obligated to buy you snacks too, or share them. You’re mere strangers after all. Still, your jaw grows rigid, and you look off to the side to hide it.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook do a double take when you take out your earphones. You don’t care. If he wasn’t going to buy you snacks, you’re not going to sit here in silence and twiddle your thumbs.

You don’t pay any attention to the song you’re blasting through your earbuds, much more focused on being the worst passenger possible. 

You unlock your phone.

[You - 10:33] : he bought snacks

[sooyoung !! - 10:34] : OH

[sooyoung !! - 10:34] : thats so cute :((

[You - 10:34] : for himself only

[sooyoung !! - 10:34] : wait what

[sooyoung !! - 10:34] : just for himself???

[You - 10:34] : he put them into the back

[You - 10:34] : didnt offer me anything

[sooyoung !! - 10:34] : oh

[sooyoung !! - 10:35] : well joon did say he’s shy

[sooyoung !! - 10:35] : he probably doesnt know how to interat with you

[You - 10:35] : youd never make these types of excuses for any other guy

[sooyoung !! - 10:35] : wait are you on your phone rn?

[You - 10:35] : nah im texting you on a brick

[sooyoung !! - 10:35] : y/n

[You - 10:35] : wdym am i on my phone?? obviously??

[sooyoung !! - 10:35] : you cant be on your phone!! thats so rude

[sooyoung !! - 10:35] : you’re being such a bad passenger

[You - 10:35] : hes being a bad driver by only buying himself snacks

[sooyoung !! - 10:36] : put down your phone

[sooyoung !! - 10:36] : dont make me block you

[You - 10:36] : lmao like youd dare

[You - 10:36] : you dont have the balls for it

And when your last message doesn’t go through, you freeze. You type up a handful more, none of them deliver. This is a joke, you think. Sooyoung must be messing with you. She’s unblocking you any second now. She has to. She’s your only escape from this! She can’t leave you hanging, again.

But she does.

You close your eyes and swallow the sigh, not even able to begin to fathom the situation you’re in right now: you’re going on a cross country roadtrip with Jeon Jungkook, who happens to be a mere stranger to you aside from the fact, of course, that you hooked up two years ago and you fled his apartment like your life depended on it. But not only that, Sooyoung, your supposed best friend, who has let you down once already today, just fucking blocked you. You think the universe has fun seeing you in misery and-

“... please?”

You take out an earbud. “What? Sorry?”

“Oh, I just-” Jungkook clears his throat, and you realise he’s not really looking at you, eyes dancing around. “I asked if you could hand me a water bottle.”

You blink at him before taking out your second earbud. “Sure, yeah.”

“I should have one in my bag,” he tells you, pointing behind. “You see it?”

You do. It’s in the far corner. There’s no way you’re reaching that. Your bag, however, is a lot closer. So you take out your water bottle.

“Here. Couldn’t get to your bag, so if you don’t mind, you can, uh, drink from mine,” you tell him and try to hand Jungkook your water, but he’s too focused on looking at the road, his hand grasping air several times. 

“Thanks,” he says when he finally gets a hold of it. Five attempts, you count. You bite away your smile. You fail though when you see how much Jungkook struggles to unscrew the bottle. And when he brings it to his lips with shaky hands, you think you’re about to laugh. You don’t though, and reach out to help him instead, steadying the bottle.

“Oh,” he says, surprised, and takes two big gulps. “Thank you.”

You hum and take the bottle from his lips, grabbing the lid too and screwing it back on. You doubt he’ll be able to do it. You don’t bother putting the water bottle back, keeping it in your lap instead. 

For the next ten minutes, it’s silent again. You don’t go on your phone again, not because you feel bad and don’t want to be a shitty passenger. No, definitely not that. You don’t go on your phone again because you don’t want to. 

You watch the traffic, and after a while, you let out a yawn. You think it’s a combination of the mundane view and the fact you barely slept yesterday. You rub your eyes, a gesture that prompts Jungkook to look over to you.

You turn to him too, thinking he’s going to say something. He opens his mouth, but clamps it shut the next second. You blink a handful of times and raise a brow because what was that? But you don’t bother asking him, deciding to look away too. 

And even though you didn’t make a fool of yourself, he did, you feel deeply embarrassed too. Heat crawls up your neck and settles on your cheeks. You think the Germans have a word for that. They call it fremdschämen. Well, you’re fremdschämen-ing.

“If, uh, you-”

You snap your head around. Jungkook isn’t looking at you, eyes dead set on the road, almost like he can’t bring himself to direct his gaze your way.

“Yeah?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath and collects himself. Before he begins to speak, he clears his throat, “If you’re tired, you can nap for a bit. I wouldn’t mind.”

“Oh,” you blurt out, shaking your head to snap out of it. “Thanks, uh, for the offer. I appreciate it. But I’m not tired.”

And even though you can see that he wants to argue with you, bring up how you just yawned, Jungkook closes his mouth.

It’s silent. It feels like a decade passes by. 

“If you’re tired,” you say, remembering to return the offer, “just tell me and we can switch.”

“Yeah, but I’m not tired.” He waits a moment. It feels like another decade passes by. “So you can, uh, nap for a bit if you want to.”

You can’t help but smile a bit at his words. It’s a nice thing of him to say. “Thanks. I’ll just see what happens.”

“Alright.” He nods. “You mind if I put on some music?”

You gesture for him to go ahead. “Not at all.”

You don’t recognise the song Jungkook plays, but you like it. You like it so much you ask him for the title.

“It’s, uh, ‘Never Not’ by Lauv,” he tells you, and you perk up at the name of the artist. You know him.

“I think I’ve got one of his songs saved.” You pull out your phone to see which one it is, unable to recall the title. 

“‘Paris in the Rain’?” Jungkook says, and you snap your finger at his words.

“Yeah, that’s it!” you say, screwing your eyes shut and pressing your hand to your temple. “How could I forget?”

He smiles at you then, and you mirror him.

And when you fall into silence again after this, it feels a lot less awkward. It’s then that you realise you’ve completely forgotten about your history, the dread that plagued you before at the thought of being in the same car as Jungkook. It disappeared for a moment, but now that you’ve thought about it again, it appears again. You curse yourself.

But before you can spiral, go back to awkwardly sitting in your seat and looking out the window and feeling completely mortified, Jungkook looks over to you. This time he speaks the first time.

“Hey, can I ask?” He doesn’t wait for you to tell him yes. “How did you meet Soo?”

You have to smile at the question. “It’s a long story,” you warn.

“Well,” Jungkook laughs, “I think we might have time.”

You would have rolled your eyes at him for his smartass comment if you knew him better. But since you don’t, you refrain and begin the story instead.

“We went to the same middle school.”

And then you tell Jungkook how Sooyoung and you started by hating each other, for reasons neither of you know. (It was hate at first sight, Sooyoung always likes to say.) You recall how your hatred spawned a series of snarky side comments, snide looks, and scoffs over a period of one year. In the end, it was a boy that brought you together, well, your mutual hatred for him. 

Wongshik was his name. He transferred to your school. More importantly, he was obnoxious, loud, arrogant, and overall, incredibly annoying. Class with him was horrible, so horrible Sooyoung and you couldn’t stop cussing him out during break. And ever since, you two have been joined at the hip. You no longer talk about Wongshik, barely think about him anymore. But you are, in a really weird way, incredibly thankful for how annoying he was. You aren’t sure you would have found one another if it hadn’t been for his obnoxiousness.

“How did you meet Joon?”

Jungkook waves you off. “Our story isn’t that great.”

“You don’t want to tell?”

“Well,” he hums, “I don’t mind. I just don’t think it’s all that exciting. We didn’t go from enemies to friends, you know?”

“I’m sure it’s still great,” you try, and Jungkook scratches his neck, sighing in the end.

“We got assigned as partners for an art project in high school.”

“And then?” 

It’s after you’ve asked the question that it dawns on you that there’s nothing to it, seeing the pink that dusts his cheeks a second too late.

“Nothing. That’s it,” he coughs and shrugs. “We became friends after that.”

“Oh.” It’s all you can say for a moment. “Well, that’s a cute story too!”

Jungkook levels you with an unconvinced look. You hold his gaze for a second before cracking.

“I tried.”

He hums. “I appreciate it.”

And then, you share a laugh. It’s short but genuine. It’s enough, more than you ever expected. This isn’t so bad, you think.

You don’t fall asleep for almost another two hours. The exhaustion sneaks up on you though, slowly coming on around the one hour mark. You don’t know if Jungkook notices, but once he switches to his lofi songs, it starts to lull you to sleep. 

It’s the sound of the seat belt snapping back that wakes you up.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” Jungkook apologises when he sees you peel your eyes open. “The seatbelt was jammed and I-”

He stops when you wave him off, a soft smile on your lips. 

“It’s fine. It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,” you tell him, voice still thick with sleep. You yawn and rub your eyes, taking in your surroundings. You’re at a rest stop. “Why did we stop?”

“Uh, toilet break,” he admits, not daring to look at you when he speaks. Adorable, you think. Does he think you don’t pee too?

“Yeah, what time is it?” you ask and stretch as much as you can, your joints cracking in relief. 

Jungkook shows you his phone, and you think you must be hallucinating when you see you’ve been asleep for the past three hours. You’ve been on this trip for four hours now, and you slept for more than half of it. Not only that, Jungkook had to drive all this time. Great, so where’s your award for being the world’s shittiest passenger?

“God, fuck, I’m sorry. I slept so much.”

“What? No, don’t apologise! It’s fine,” Jungkook quickly assures you and gives you a smile. “Don’t worry about it.” He pauses, and looks off to the side when he says it. “I’m glad you got some rest.”

You don’t know what to say to that, your mouth drying up at his words. Your brain is especially slow, still half asleep. So you end up not saying anything. Which is probably the worst thing you can do because an awkward silence hovers around you.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” you tuck your hair away, “you said you needed to pee?”

“Right, yeah, yes, I did. I said that. I gotta pee, yeah.” Jungkook clears his throat, and even though you’re not facing him, he knows you’re cringing. Even he is cringing at himself. 

“Let’s just… go.” You click off your seatbelt and get out before Jungkook can even answer. You throw the door shut and begin walking, not waiting up for him. And as you make your way to the little convenience store, you shove your earbuds back in. Maybe you’re being a little rude, but you can’t bring yourself to deal with this right now. You just woke up for God’s sake!

Inside, you beeline for the snacks, needing to look busy. You pick up a bag of chips and pretend to read the back. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook head towards the restrooms, and you think you catch him glancing in your direction. You refuse to think about it.

You read the ingredients lists like you know what any of these things are. It’s stupid, you know, but it’s the only thing keeping you sane since panic texting Sooyoung isn’t an option anymore. Your music blasting through your earbuds helps too. 

However, it’s also your downfall. You don’t even hear him approach you.

“Hey.” 

You instinctively take out your earbuds. The wrong move because you can no longer pretend you can’t hear him.

His greeting sounds harmless enough, friendly some might even say, but when you look at him, you know you’re in for it. God, fuck. It’s obvious. His smile gives it away, the corners of his lips turned up a little too much. You already know, getting him to leave you alone won’t be easy at all. 

“Uh, hi,” you mumble before pretending to go back to reading when really, his presence is the only thing you can focus on. You’re more than aware of how close he is to you, too close.

“I’m Minki,” he tells you, and you give him a hum, regretting not buying those big noise-cancelling headphones. “And you-?”

He inches closer to you. Your grip around the bag of chips tightens. You swallow and take a step back. Maybe you’re wrong. Maybe he’ll get the hint. He doesn’t. He steps closer.

“Uh, I’m Y/N,” you mumble, voice weak, your heart beginning to thump a bit louder. You look around yourself. No one is here. The store is hauntingly empty. You feel your throat tighten. You are on your own.

“Y/N?” he repeats, and you don’t think you’ve ever had anybody say your name like that. On his tongue it sounds wrong, sticky somehow. He emphasises the wrong syllables, rushes and slurs the wrong letters. 

“I like it.” His smile widens. “Fitting for someone as pretty as you, sweetcheeks.”

And you think you’re going to retch. No, seriously. You think you’re going to start dry heaving in the corner right fucking now. Disgust doesn’t even begin to describe how you feel. You don’t think there’s anything grosser than a guy unironically calling you sweetcheeks. You want to throw yourself in front of a car.

“It’s Y/N,” you assert, your face hardening.

“Oh, do you not like sweetcheeks?” he asks and smiles innocently at you. Your jaw locks at his question. “Babydoll then?”

Your grip on the bag of chips tightens, the sound of it crinkling pierces the air. But he never looks away from you, eyes relentlessly staring into yours. He’s trying to get you to break and crack, to cave. He wants to see you squirm, enjoys it, you know that. It takes you everything to not give him the satisfaction he’s craving. Especially when he dares to take a step closer to you.

“Buttercup?” He raises a brow. “How about we talk about it in my car? It’s parked just outside.” 

He points to the doors, like you care where his stupid car is parked. 

You grit your teeth, heart pounding in your chest at this point. He takes another step towards you, and you take one back. You’re about to hit the wall. He’ll have you trapped then. You swallow.

It requires all of your courage to keep your voice level. “Please leave me alone.”

“But why? I feel like there’s a connection here, baby-”

“Connection?”

Your knight in shining armour comes just in time. You’ve never believed in perfect timing, but you might now, convinced Jungkook has it. 

Relief flushes through you at his sight, something you never thought his appearance would elicit. So far it has only ever been apprehension and anxiety. It’s a welcome change.

“I don’t think so, buddy.” 

And even though Jungkook’s smiling, he looks scary. There’s a threat tucked between his teeth, pulling on the upturn of his lips. It’s not directed at you, and still, you swallow. The guy’s actually a bit taller than Jungkook, but he looks shorter, probably because he’s cowering under Jungkook’s gaze.

He puts on a brave face though, a frown settling on his features. “Don’t call me buddy. My name’s Minki-”

“Well, you just called my girlfriend baby, didn’t you? Why can’t I call you buddy then?” Jungkook laughs, but it’s hollow and mocking. “What? You don’t like it when people don’t call you by your name?”

You make sure to make no movement or sound. Not that it would make a difference. They are far too invested in staring each other down to pay you any attention. You could have probably knocked over the display, and they still wouldn’t have turned to you.

“I-”

“What do you even want?” Jungkook interrupts, words sharp like daggers, snapping off from his teeth. “What are you talking to my girlfriend for, huh? Interested in sharing maybe?”

Jungkook doesn’t put an arm around your waist or pull you close to him. You think he would, expect him to, but all he does is stand close enough to you to not raise any suspicion. You wouldn’t mind if he did, but you appreciate him making an effort to respect your boundaries even in this situation. 

“I was just trying to be nice,” the guy mumbles, disgruntled and annoyed. “No fucking need to get all defensive and shit.”

Jungkook quirks a brow at his attitude. He tongues his cheek. His features darken. 

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” he spits and you think you hear a growl too. The smile stays on his lips, and you think that makes him even more intimidating than if he had just dropped it.

You find absolutely zero traces of awkwardness in Jungkook’s words. It’s like he’s unlocked another version of himself, a confident and confrontational one. You’re in awe, to say the least.

“Who are you calling defensive? You’re the one that just dared to bother my girl,” Jungkook hisses like a snake, on the edge of attack, his eyes fixed on him. You don’t think anyone has ever called you their girl before. It has your heart rumbling in your chest.

“Look, I was just-”

“Trying to be nice?” Jungkook scoffs and clicks his tongue. “Go be nice somewhere fucking else.”

The guy looks ready to protest, nostrils flared and chest heaving with deep breaths, but when Jungkook takes one step closer to him and levels him with a glare that would have hell freeze over, he backs away. Of course, not without hissing something about Jungkook being unreasonably hostile and him just wanting to be nice. Jungkook doesn’t jump on it. He just drills his eyes into the guy’s back until he’s out of sight. And the moment he’s out of sight and earshot, Jungkook relaxes and backs off from you, stepping out of your personal space.

“You alright?” 

You almost get whiplash by how quickly his demeanour changes. It’s like a whole new person is standing in front of you.

“Uh, y-yeah,” you stammer dumbly, unable to quite wrap your head around what just happened. “I’m alright. Yeah, uh, thanks.”

“You don’t gotta thank me,” he tells you and rubs the back of his neck, looking shy, and you don’t know how to make do with the different versions of Jungkook presented to you right now. You’re fascinated by how he seamlessly shifts between being both awkward and confident. It should be impossible, but he does it, somehow.

“You wanna get those, uh, chips?” he coughs and takes them from you before you can answer. You don’t, but you don’t find it in you to tell him that. You follow him to the checkout counter.

The clerk comes out from the back and silently rings you up. You’re about to pull out your wallet when Jungkook beats you to it and puts a five-dollar on the counter and slides it over.

“Wait, no, let me-”

“It’s fine,” he tells you, waving you off. The clerk takes the money before you can tell him not to, and you’re left to put away your wallet.

“I’ll pay you back,” you say, and Jungkook shakes his head and gives you the bag of chips. He’s about to repeat himself, but he stops when he sees the guy from before. 

You thought he would leave the store, but you guess you shouldn’t have had any expectations for someone like him. Your face sours when you realise he’s standing right between you and the exit. 

Before you can think of ways to avoid him, Jungkook takes your hands into his, fingers perfectly slotting with yours. You look down, the sight making your stomach twist in your stomach—his tattooed hand cupping yours.

“Let’s go.” He gives you a smile over the shoulder. And somehow, that gives you the confidence to walk past the guy from before with your head held high.

By the time you’re back in the car, you’re smiling.

“Thank you,” you tell him again, and Jungkook waves you off.

“Anytime.”

You put the chips to the other snacks in the back and pull the seatbelt across your chest. “He looked so scared of you.”

“As he should be,” Jungkook laughs and you hum. He slots the keys into the ignition, seatbelt strapped in place. 

“Can’t believe you just did that,” you mumble when you pull out of the gas station, spotting the guy walking out of the store from the corner of your eye.

Jungkook laughs again. “Sorry if I made you, uh, uncomfortable by the way,” he mumbles, and you sit up.

“What? No, you didn’t!” you quickly assure him. “Don’t worry.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles. “Just, uh, so you know I didn’t step in because I thought you couldn’t handle yourself or anything, but I just,” he avoids your gaze, “couldn’t help myself. He was being so aggressive and pushy- I just had to step in, you know? He triggered something in me- I don’t know.”

You smile. “It’s fine.”

Jungkook glances your way as if to make sure you weren’t lying to him. He smiles when he sees no trace of deception in your eyes.

You let a beat pass. “I do have to say,” Jungkook stares at you with big eyes, clearly expecting the worst, “I was surprised by your… confidence.”

“Oh.” And then he laughs, hiding half of his face in his hand. “Yeah, uh- I-I can’t explain it either.” 

He clears his throat, and you let him take his time to find the words. Jungkook sighs at his inability to form a sentence. 

Finally, “I’m sorry for being so awkward,” he looks your way for a split second before focusing on the road again, grip tightening around the steering wheel. He clears his throat one more time. “I just-I just don’t wanna mess this up, you know? You’re Soo’s best friend and she’s dating Joon- and I know she means everything to him, so I don’t want to make a bad impression as his best friend, you know?”

You learn once he starts, Jungkook doesn’t stop, words spilling from his lips in an endless stream.

“I’ve been told I give off a rather unfriendly and rude vibe too. Like I know how shitty I must have looked when I, uh, didn’t help you with your suitcase, and when I kinda insulted you before- also, actually, the snacks I bought earlier?” He gestures behind him. “They were meant to be for you too. For some reason, I just... couldn’t offer them to you?” He shakes his head. “You must think I’m a douche.”

Jungkook looks at you then, and you would have made fun of him then if you were closer and if he hadn’t just heroically saved you from a creep. A smile finds a place on your face, one that bothers on a grin.

“I mean, yeah,” you tell him but are quick to cut back in when you see the mortification set in with him. “I mean, no. I’ve figured you’re kinda awkward. I mean everybody is, right? Some more than others, I guess.”

You realise what you’ve done a second too late. You should feel sorry, incredibly remorseful, but instead, you have to laugh. The face Jungkook pulls amuses you in ways it probably shouldn’t. You’re definitely going to hell.

“No, wait, I didn’t mean it like that,” you say but the laugh that accompanies your words makes it certainly hard to believe you. “Sorry, I just can’t help myself. I swear I don’t mean it like that.”

Jungkook gives you an unimpressed look. 

You gather yourself, but the smile doesn’t disappear completely off your lips. “Okay, look, it’s fine. Now that you’ve explained it, I get it. You’ve got nothing to worry about!”

Jungkook presses his mouth into a line. “So you’re not gonna tell Soo I suck?”

You don’t try to bite away the smile. “No.” He lets out a relieved sigh. “I’m just gonna tell her you’re a douche.”

And for a second, Jungkook believes you, his doe eyes meeting yours. You laugh. He doesn’t join you. He does roll his eyes. It does nothing to lessen your laugh, to his dismay.

“I’m kidding,” you say, just to make sure he won’t get any wrong ideas. “You’re fine. Just… relax. No need to be awkward.”

Jungkook huffs, but there’s a smile on his lips. “I’ll try.”

“Great.”

And when you go back to silence, the air feels much lighter than before.

You switch after a quick stop at McDonald’s for a cheap and greasy lunch. It sits heavy in your stomach, but you don’t have the courage to suggest walking it off. So you get back in the car.

“Can I skip this song?” you ask because you’re the driver and the song makes it hard for you to concentrate. It’s awful. You hate it. You don’t tell him that though.

“Yeah, of course,” Jungkook tells you and skips to the next song. You don’t like this one either, but you don’t say anything. “You can put on your music too if you want, you know?”

“It’s fine. Your music is good.” And you can’t help but quietly add. “Most of the time.”

Jungkook gawks at you then. You have to laugh. “Sorry, I’m just joking.”

“No, no, actually-” He doesn’t finish his sentence and pauses the song. “How about we make a playlist together? Since we’re gonna be stuck in the car for a while, let’s try to make it as enjoyable as possible.”

“Oh, that sounds fun,” you say, really liking the suggestion, and Jungkook’s quick to open Spotify and create a new playlist, sending you the link to it too.

“‘Y/N’s and Jungkook’s Ultimate Summer Roadtrip Soundtrack’,” he says. “What do you think?”

You smile. “Great name.”

“Great.” He grins. “And obviously, the first song has to be ‘Midsummer Madness’ by 88rising, right?” 

You actually agree. The song belongs on every summer playlist.

“Add Jeremy Zucker to it too. ‘supercuts’ and ‘all the kids are depressed’,” you tell him.

Jungkook hums and does as you say. “‘Indigo’ by Niki and ‘100 Degrees’ by Rich Brian, yeah?”

You laugh. “You really like 88rising, don’t you?”

“You don’t?” he shots back, and you roll your eyes. Of course, you do.

“‘Everybody Talks!’ and ‘Animal’ by Neon Trees.”

“Bringing back the 2010s, huh?” Jungkook hums. “‘Sunday Best’ by Surfaces?”

“I don’t think I know this one,” you tell him, and he gasps at you, shaking his head and typing into his phone. A second later, the song plays over the stereo, and instantly, you see his point. “Okay, yeah, add this one.”

“How about ‘Electric Love’?”

You’re more than quick to agree. “Oh, that one for sure.”

“Okay, great,” he hums, and counts the number of songs under his breath. “Nine songs. That’s enough for now, right? We can add to it later.”

You nod. “Now, put it on.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He adds a salute too, and you roll your eyes.

By the time you get to the hotel, it’s late, the sun is long gone. You shut off the engine with a sigh, ready to collapse on a bed.

“Oh, we made it,” Jungkook groans, rubbing his eyes and stretching in his seat. You hum, too tired to speak. “Thank god. I’m done.”

You stretch too, your back cracking like a glowstick, and click off your seatbelt. But your seatbelt clearly doesn’t want you to leave, staying put even when you repeatedly press the button to unlock it.

“Wait, let me,” Jungkook says when he notices you struggling. 

He moves to help you. And right then, your hands brush. It’s stupid, really stupid, but you feel heat crawl up your neck, reaching the tips of your ears, rivalling the warmth of the summer. You even freeze for a second. When you thaw back to life, you flinch and turn your head to the side, screwing your eyes shut as if doing so would change anything.

Jungkook clears his throat awkwardly, and you’re grateful he keeps his gaze trained downwards. You’re certain you would have died of embarrassment if he had looked at you. 

“This seatbelt- it’s a bit, uh, tricky” He fumbles with it as he explains. “You gotta—” He speaks through pauses, voice strained. “—really push it down and-”

It clicks off.

And even though it wasn’t too tight before, you can breathe much better now. Maybe it was the seatbelt and you, somehow, didn’t notice all this time, or maybe it was because breathing got a little difficult when Jungkook was so close to you. But you’re convinced it’s not that. Sure, could you count all of his long eyelashes (which, might you add, are also unfailingly naturally curled too)? Yeah, but that’s not the reason why you feel so relieved. It’s because the seatbelt was digging into your ribs the entire time. It had to be. 

“Thanks,” you cough out and avert your eyes, looking out the window to the hotel. “Let’s, uh, check in, yeah?”

The thing about being four broke college students that are hellbent on going on a cross country roadtrip is you’re willing to cut corners at any point. And one of them is your accommodation. Four people means four hotel rooms. That’s not in your budget, not even when you take three rooms instead of four (with Sooyoung and Namjoon being a couple and whatnot). Two would be in your budget if you weren’t such ambitious shits and insisting on going cross country, meaning you’d need to stay in hotels at least a couple of times throughout the trip. So in the end, you settled for one room. 

One room for four people. 

Well, now it’s just two people.

“Oh,” you say when you walk in, stopping dead in your tracks, the key card still sitting in the lock, hand hovering over the light switch. Jungkook almost bumps into you when you abruptly stop.

“What?” he asks, and you will yourself to respond, but your throat is dry all of a sudden, so you step to the side.

You glance in Jungkook’s direction, curious to see his reaction. He doesn’t react much at all, his lips parting only the tiniest bit as he sees what you did when you walked in. 

“Uh, didn’t we ask for two beds?” he asks, a knit between his brows.

“We did,” you say, frantically scanning the room. Maybe you overlooked the second bed. Maybe there’s one and it will magically appear if you look around once more-

You stop. There’s only one bed.

“They must have forgotten, I guess,” you mumble and take a few steps inside, still holding out hope that maybe just maybe there’s a second bed somewhere. It’s foolish and naive, you know.

“I could go ask if they’ve got another room,” Jungkook proposes, putting down his huge travel bag by the door.

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“I’ll be back in two.”

“Don’t forget the key card,” you remind him on his way out, and he gives you a smile before grabbing it and shutting the door. You sigh and wander over to the bed, carefully sitting down on it like it was made of glass. It is big enough for the both of you, but there’s no way you’re sleeping in it together.

You feel the duvet. It’s softer than you expected it to be, with how cheap this room was. You scan the room one more time before finally letting yourself fall back. For a moment, you lay there in silence before pulling out your phone and checking it for the first time in hours.

Two missed calls from your mother, alongside a handful of texts. You call her back, already knowing what’s about to follow. You hold your phone to your ear. She picks up after just a ring. She’s been waiting.

“Hey, mom.”

“Honey! Are you alright? You didn’t answer my calls and texts!” There’s obvious worry laced with her words. You swallow. Maybe you should reconsider and not keep your phone on silent, at least for the duration of the trip.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I’m alright,” you tell her. “I was driving, so I wasn’t on my phone. We just checked in.”

“Oh, well, how’s the trip? Are you having fun?”

You close your eyes and hum. “It’s fun, but I’m also tired.”

“I can imagine. Driving so long isn’t good for your health. You sound very tired,” your mother says, and you think she’s going to launch into the speech she gave you when you first mentioned to her you’ll be going on a roadtrip. She doesn’t though, thankfully. You’re too tired for this. 

“But you know that already. At least, you’re having fun, right?” She only continues when you hum. “Well, how’s Soo?”

You peel your eyes open and grip your phone a little tighter. “Great,” you lie, knowing better than to tell the woman who sat in the kitchen in the darkness, waiting for you to come home after Sooyoung fucked up covering for you, that you were on a roadtrip with a complete stranger, a guy on top of that too.

“Is she doing well? Are you two eating well? What did you have for lunch? Dinner?” your mother asks.

“Uh, we stopped by McDonald’s,” you tell her, and you cringe at how reedy your voice sounds.

Your mother immediately makes a disapproving noise, of course. “For lunch and dinner? You should get something proper. Don’t eat too much McDonald’s. That’s not good for you.”

“Noted.” You decide to keep your answers short, and you hope your mother chalks it up to you being exhausted rather than you trying to hide something from her. 

“And how is it with the two guys? What were their names again? Namjoon and-?”

“Jungkook,” you supply with a cough.

“Ah yes, right, Jungkook. Are they trustworthy?”

“Yes, of course, mom,” you quickly assure, chuckling but it sounds wrong. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. They’re really nice.”

Your mother hums. “Well-”

It’s then that you hear the sound of the key card being inserted into the lock. You shoot up. 

“Uh, mom, I gotta go,” you tell her, the words stumbling from your lips clumsily. 

“What’s the hurry? I thought you were in the hotel-”

“Well—” You lock eyes with Jungkook and you’re quick to gesture for him to not say a word, panic in your eyes. “—uh, Soo just called for me. She needs my, uh, help.”

“Oh, in that case... go help her,” your mother says, and you think you can hear suspicion in her voice. You cringe. She knows something’s up. Why can’t you be a better liar?

“Yeah, I’m gonna do that,” you mumble, and Jungkook slowly closes the door. “I’ll talk to you later.”

And then, you end the call. You breathe out.

“Who-”

“My mom,” you say and throw your phone on the bed. “So? What did they say?”

Jungkook looks confused, taking a moment to connect the dots. “Right, uh, yeah, well they told me we didn’t actually book a room with two beds. Only one with one bed.”

You stare at him. “Oh.”

So you fucked up the reservations, huh? 

“Anyway, I asked if we could maybe switch, but they said,” he rubs his neck and averts his gaze then, “that they didn’t have any other rooms left.”

“Oh,” you repeat and sink back down on the bed. Jungkook leans against the closed door, staring at his shoes. “No rooms?”

“No rooms,” he confirms.

You press your lips into a thin line and search your brain for a solution. But you come up empty. Sooyoung has always been better than you at this. You’ve relied on her for problem-solving since middle school, so that part of your brain is rusty, to say the least. It doesn’t help you’re tired too.

“I could just sleep on the couch.” 

You jerk your head up, and follow Jungkook’s gaze, to the shabby little grey thing you don’t think classified as a couch.

“What? No!” you exclaim and shake your head. “That’s too small.”

“It’s fine,” he says, and you frown at him.

“It looks like it’s about to fall apart.”

“It doesn’t.”

You level Jungkook with a hard gaze. He doesn’t cave, to your dismay. You sigh.

“Fine,” he perks up, “I’ll sleep on it.”

“No- what? I’m gonna sleep on it!”

“No, sorry, I am,” you tell him. “Look, my phone’s already on it.”

He frowns. “It’s not.”

“Now, it is.” You’re just about to toss your phone on the couch when Jungkook beats you to it, throwing his gigantic travel bag across the room. You watch as it slowly tumbles from the couch to the floor.

“Sorry, my bag is on it.” Jungkook points at it like it didn’t just fall to the floor.

“It’s not.” And at your words he quickly rushes over and places his bag on top of the couch before sitting down himself. You stare at him. 

“Yes, yes, it is.” He smiles.

You grit your teeth. “You’re not gonna sleep well on that thing. I slept in the car a bit, so it doesn’t matter if I don’t sleep well now. Plus, I’m the one that fucked up the reservations, so I should be the one sleeping on the couch for it.”

Jungkook hums as if he’s considering your words, but then he clicks his tongue and pats the couch. “I think I’m gonna sleep just fine on this thing.”

“Stop lying-”

“Someone’s calling you.” He points to your phone in your hand, the screen lit up with a call.

You look at it.

Sooyoung.

You contemplate not taking it to continue this argument, but before you can make a decision, Jungkook does it for you. “Go take it. We’ll continue after.”

So even though you’re more than unhappy about this interruption, you do as he says, accepting the call and pressing your phone to your ear. Jungkook gestures over to what you assume must be the bathroom. You don’t bother locking the door when you walk inside. 

“Hey-”

“Oh, so you’ve finally unblocked me, huh?” you hiss and blink a couple of times, the fluorescent lights of the bathroom far too bright. It strains your eyes.

“Look, I had to,” Sooyoung says. “You were being a bad passenger and texting me when you should have been talking to Kook!”

You roll your eyes. “You left me hanging, again. I needed you, you know?”

“Oh, please.” You know exactly what look she has on her face right now. It’s the one where she thinks you’re being dramatic. “You survived, didn’t you?”

“Barely,” you spit. “A creepy guy approached me and wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“What? Are you alright, Y/N?” Sooyoung quickly asks, voice dripping with a mix of worry and exasperation. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you assure her, looking at yourself in the mirror and brushing through your hair with your fingers. “Jungkook came and did the entire ‘why are you talking to my girlfriend?’ shtick.”

“So, you’re alright?” 

You hum.

Sooyoung waits a moment. “So, Kook saved you?”

You practically hear the smirk in her words. You groan. “You’re so annoying, you know?”

She cackles.

“Seriously, Soo, shut up,” you hiss, deciding to change the topic. “Are you guys still stuck?”

“Yeah, the railway companies are on strike until tomorrow morning. We’ll be back in town in the early afternoon. But that’s not important. What’s important is how it’s going with Kook and you. Is he still being awkward?”

You press your lips together. “I mean, no? It’s not as bad as I thought it’d be, but still... I’d much rather have you here too. I really wanted to go with you. It would have been so much fun.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Y/N,” Sooyoung mumbles, and you’re both quiet. She’s about to cry. You can hear it in her voice. You know she must be wracked with guilt, so in an effort to spare the tears, you change the topic, “Oh, by the way, officially, you’re still on the trip with me. I didn’t tell my mom.”

She chuckles then, but it doesn’t sound all that real. “Alright, I’ll cover for you.”

“Do it properly though this time. I swear to God, if you fuck this up again, we’re done,” you joke and elicit another chuckle. It sounds more genuine, but it’s still not quite there. You sigh and tell her something you know will definitely take her mind off things.

“Did I tell you? I fucked up the reservations.”

There’s a pause. 

“What? How? Are you roomless?”

“Worse,” you tell her. “There’s only one bed and the hotel is booked out.” 

For a moment, Sooyoung doesn’t say anything until she bursts out into laughter, prompting a ‘What’s so funny?’ from Namjoon. 

“Holy shit, Y/N! You’re joking, right?” You screw your eyes shut. At least she doesn’t sound like crying anymore. “What in the Wattpad fanfiction is this?”

“Stop fucking laughing, Soo. I’m miserable, alright?”

Your embarrassment triples when you listen to Sooyoung explain the situation to Namjoon. 

“Soo!” you hiss. 

“Sorry, sorry.” She’s still laughing though. Sometimes you wish your rivalry in middle school never stopped. “I’m just- this is just so funny. So what? You guys gonna sleep in the same bed?”

You hate the teasing tone swinging with her words, hate it so much you’re ready to just end the call then and there.

“You’re being a bad friend, you know?” you press through gritted teeth. “But no, we’re obviously not sleeping in the same fucking bed.” You make an effort to keep your voice low, aware that Jungkook’s just outside, sitting on the couch. You doubt the door is soundproof. “That’d be so weird.”

“Why not? I think that’d be a great bonding activity.”

You pause and if she was in front of you, you’d stare daggers into her. Your lips press into a line.

“Soo,” you begin, low and threatening, almost like how Jungkook spoke to the guy at the rest stop, “are you telling me to sleep with Jungkook?”

Sooyoung waits a moment, the silence that stretches between you feeling like forever. And then, “Hey, babe, Kook’s single, right?”

You faintly hear Namjoon's affirmative answer, followed by a confused ‘Why?’, and you think you’re ready to break off your friendship with Sooyoung.

“I fucking hate you,” you whisper, eliciting another round of obnoxious laughter. 

“Look, I actually didn’t mean that,” Sooyoung tells you when she’s finally calmed down. “I was strictly speaking about actual bonding, as in friendship, you know? You’re the one that went there!”

“You said ‘bonding activity’!” you exclaim, clamming your hand in front of your mouth when you raise your voice a bit too much. You look at the door, listening to any sounds from the other side, but luckily, it stays quiet. 

You lower your voice into a hiss. “Don’t blame me for going there! You worded it weirdly.”

“Ah, so it’s never your fault, is it? Just accept it, you’ve got a dirty mind-”

“I’m hanging up. Goodbye.”

And without hesitating, you end the call, watching as your screen darkens. You sigh and run a hand through your hair, shaking your head and her words out of your mind. Sooyoung’s stupid and absolutely wrong. 

With that conclusion, you take one deep breath, making sure to compose yourself before heading out. One look into the mirror, you realise the frown plaguing your features has deepened. You smooth it over as much as possible.

When you walk out, you’re ready to pick up right where you left off, but instead of seeing Jungkook sitting on the couch, you find him curled up on it, knees uncomfortably tucked to his chest, a pillow under his head and a blanket thrown over him. You don’t know where he got both of those things from as the bed is still untouched. His travel bag sits on the floor next to him. 

Jungkook’s sleeping.

Or well, he’s pretending to be asleep. It’s obvious he’s faking it with how stiff he’s lying on the couch. 

“Seriously?” you mutter under your breath and throw your hands into the air. “What happened to talking about it after?”

No response. 

You walk over to him, expecting Jungkook to open his eyes at one point. You know he can feel your gaze on him. There’s no way he isn’t. You’re practically digging daggers into him.

“I know you’re faking,” you say, but again, no response. You contemplate pulling off the pillow and blanket, but you can’t bring yourself to even lift your hand. 

With Sooyoung, you wouldn’t hesitate at all, but with Jungkook, you’re still careful. Because even though you just spent the day getting comfortable with each other, you’re scared you might cross a line and catapult you back to your starting point. You definitely do not want to be the reason for that. 

So you don’t try anything. 

You heave out one heavy sigh. 

“Jungkook, you said we were gonna talk,” you mumble, tired and disappointed. “You’re not being fair.”

You think you see the slightest twitch in his face, the tiniest knit between his brows like he’s contemplating maybe opening his eyes. But then, it’s gone, the lines smoothed over and you know you’re not getting him to drop his act. 

Admitting defeat, you wander over to your suitcase and open it, grabbing your toiletry bag and a change of clothes. 

“Just gonna say you’re gross for not brushing your teeth. They are gonna fall out, you know?” 

You wait for a reaction, but of course, you don’t get one. You roll your eyes and walk into the bathroom, shutting the door with more force than necessary.

Getting into bed feels weird. You’ve never liked sleeping in a bed beside your own, but you especially don’t like it when you see Jungkook curled up in that same uncomfortable and stiff position as before. You want to say something, but you know it’s in vain. So you turn off the lights and crawl under the covers.

You close your eyes, trying to sleep for a few minutes before giving up, eyes peeling open. And it’s not because it feels strange sleeping in a foreign bed. It’s because there’s a coil in your stomach, brewing and stewing in there. 

A coil of guilt.

Taking a deep breath, you throw the covers off you and swing your legs over the mattress. You’re determined as you walk over to Jungkook. 

“Get up,” you say with confidence you don’t know where you got from. “Jungkook, stop pretending. I know you’re not sleeping”

You think it’s the annoyance in your voice, the strictness swinging with it because finally, Jungkook does as you say and peels his stupid doe eyes open. Your gazes meet. He looks sheepish, embarrassed almost, and you click your tongue.

“Come on,” you say and grab his blanket. “You’re not sleeping on the couch.”

“It’s fine,” Jungkook repeats, pulling back the blanket. “Seriously, the couch is comfortable-”

“Oh, shut up,” you groan and throw your head into your neck. “You’re not sleeping on the couch, okay? You’re almost falling off this thing! Look at yourself, curled up like a goddamn shrimp. How are you gonna sleep like that?”

Jungkook opens his mouth but falls short. 

“See!” you laugh because this is so stupid, and he looks away, defeated.

You take a deep breath before continuing, knowing once you say this, you can’t take it back. 

“Just come sleep in the goddamn bed with me.”

Before Jungkook can even begin to comprehend your words, you grab his blanket and walk over to the bed. You throw the blanket on it.

“Uh,” confusion and uncertainty swing with his voice, “both of us? In the same bed?”

You can feel heat crawl up your neck at his question. You blame him for it, for the way he words it. It’s weird, sounds wrong. 

“Don’t make this weird. I’m just saying- there’s enough space, right?” You gesture at the bed. “And I-” You pause for a moment. “We’ll use your pillow as a barrier.” 

Even though you try your hardest to sound confident and not let any of the embarrassment leak through, you can hear the quiver in your voice. You hope Jungkook doesn’t. 

When you look at him again, he’s still staring at you, sitting up now though.

“I mean if you don’t wanna,” you’re starting to lose all of the courage you had before, “that’s fine too. I just thought that since, you know, the couch-”

“No, no, no,” he interrupts and grabs his pillow, standing up, “I’m just-” 

Jungkook pauses. A smile finds his lips. You lock eyes.

“If you’re comfortable with it, I’m too.”

You don’t think you’ve seen Jungkook look at you like this before, quite frankly you don’t think anyone has ever looked at you like this. There’s so much sincerity and honesty in his eyes. You can’t handle it. You avert your eyes.

“Yeah, uh, I’m fine with it,” you cough, and wave him off. “Just, you know, a barrier.”

He places the pillow right in the middle. “Good?” 

You nod before crawling under the covers. For some reason, breathing gets a bit harder as you do.

“Uh.” You snap your gaze to Jungkook at his interruption, eyes big when you look at him. “I think I’m gonna go wash up and change,” he tells you, gesturing at himself, still in his clothes from today. 

“Oh, yeah, of course,” you say. “Go do that.”

“Wouldn’t want my teeth to fall out, would I?” he smiles, and you roll your eyes at him. You don’t think he can see it in the darkness, but then you spot a grin on his lips.

“Just go.” You wave him off.

The fluorescent lights of the bathroom spill into the room through the crack under the door, and in the darkness, they seem especially bright and straining. You close your eyes.

“Ah, shit,” you hear Jungkook curse, followed by the faint sound of his toiletry bag dropping to the floor, and then, the calm sound of running water. Usually, you would slowly fall asleep, the sounds serving as white noise, but you can’t. Not when the realisation dawns on you Jungkook must have heard everything before. 

You figured the door wasn’t soundproof, but you didn’t expect it to be this thin. Jungkook heard everything. You’re sure of it. Before you were embarrassed. Now, you’re mortified.

You dig the heels of your hands into your eyes and bite your lip, stopping yourself from groaning.

By the time Jungkook comes back, you’ve decided to go with his tactic of pretending to be asleep. Unlike him, you’re actually able to put on a pretty good act. Your acting abilities are confirmed when you hear him stop dead in the tracks.

“Oh.”

It’s quiet, barely audible, not louder than a slight puff of air, but you hear it loud and clear. Your senses are heightened and focused solely on every sound Jungkook makes. His steps are feather-light, making it difficult for you to follow where he is in the room, but when you feel the mattress dip, you know.

Jungkook moves slowly, not wanting to wake you. You almost smile at his carefulness. Sooyoung would never act like this. (In fact, she would probably bang on doors and turn on the lights just to wake you up and complain to you about how you fell asleep too quickly.) 

Like it weighs a ton, Jungkook slowly lifts the blanket. You want to tell him to hurry and get into bed, but you bite your tongue, letting him do his thing. This must be a world record for the longest time to get into bed, you think.

When he’s finally lying next to you, Jungkook lets out a sigh. You can feel his presence beside you, his body pressing into the pillow. It’s hard not to notice. 

Nothing happens for a few minutes, and you wonder if you could peel your eyes open and take a peek, see his back turned to you. Just as you’re about to though,

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

And then, you feel Jungkook tug the blanket closer to your chin, covering you up even more. Heat crawls up your cheeks. You decide to keep your eyes closed.

Your mouth drops open when you see Jungkook’s plate, a marvellous stack of golden brown pancakes with the perfect slap of butter on top and a tiny bowl filled with brown sugary sweet maple syrup. Your bun with jam looks incredibly sad and plain in comparison, unappetising even. When you walked along the buffet, you didn’t see pancakes. How did you miss them?

“You wanna try?” Jungkook asks you, scooting closer with his chair and pointing at his pancakes. You tear your gaze to him.

“No, it’s fine.” 

“You sure?”

He levels you with a serious gaze, and you know he’s not just offering you out of politeness. “Yeah, just eat.”

You try not to look at Jungkook’s plate, eyes focusing on your cup of coffee, but you can’t help but take a peek when he pours the maple syrup on top. It’s illegal how good it looks. He catches you staring. Your eyes grow big before you bring yourself to look away, pretending like you’ve got a piece of lint stuck to your pants.

You bring your cup of coffee to your lips and take a sip. It’s in that moment when Jungkook transfers half of his stack of pancakes onto your plate. You start choking.

“Jungkook!” you exclaim, causing other guests to look your way, but you can’t be bothered to give them an apologetic smile. “What are you doing?”

“Just eat,” he tells you and picks up his fork and knife, slicing into his remaining pancakes. You shake your head and quickly put down your cup to give him his food back, but,

“Y/N, don’t you dare. I gave it to you. It’s a gift. You can’t refuse a gift.”

You gawk at him. 

“Jungkook,” you start, but he waves you off again, shoving the bite into his mouth. “It’s your food.”

“Not anymore,” he tells you, mouth still half full, and you think you would have cringed if he hadn’t just given you half of his stacks of pancakes. “It’s really good.” He points at his plate. “You should try.”

Admitting defeat, you heave out a sigh and tear your bun in half, placing it on his plate.

“Y/N-”

“It’s a gift,” you repeat. “You can’t refuse a gift.”

Jungkook stares at you then before smiling and shaking his head. 

He’s inside, handling the checking out, when you realise you’re inherently weak. What other conclusion are you supposed to come to when you can't lift your suitcase into the trunk?

You groan as you try once more, propping up your leg to use as leverage, but it’s not enough. Your stance is weak, and you start toppling. Just before this can end badly, with your butt on the concrete and your suitcase on the floor, your knight in shining armour makes a second appearance. 

Jungkook places one hand behind your back, steadying you, and takes your suitcase from you with the other. Like it weighs nothing, he puts it in the trunk. A part of you is offended by how easy he makes it look.

“You alright?” He turns to you, giving you a worried look. You wave him off, feeling vaguely out of breath. Whether it’s due to you straining to get your suitcase in, or the fact Jungkook still has his hand on your back, you don’t know and also don’t want to know.

“I’m fine,” you huff in the end, and his touch leaves you. “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

“Honestly thought you were gonna watch me in the rearview mirror again,” you mumble, and his hands still around the hatchback, gaze finding yours. You crack a smile. “I’m joking. I know you’re not a douche.”

He rolls his eyes at you, but there’s a smile on his lips as he does. You fish the keys out of your pocket.

“Ready for another day of driving?”

You’ve been on the road for almost three hours when you decide to make a stop, Jungkook needing to use the restroom.

“I’ll be quick,” he says and is already halfway out of the car but stops when he sees you fumble with your seatbelt.

“I’m getting out too,” you tell him when you notice his look. “My legs are sore. But you can go first. I know you gotta pee.”

“Oh, no, I can wait.”

You don’t respond, far too busy with the seatbelt. Maybe you should not get out. Maybe that’s your sign that staying in the car would be better. But, like all of the times before, Jungkook’s here for your rescue.

“Can I-?”

This time you make sure to pull your hands away fast enough, but you still don’t dare to look as he works on the seatbelt, cheeks ablaze for some reason. Deep down, you know. It’s the proximity. It’s the fact that you can see every mole speckling his skin, the fact that you can cup his cheeks, lift his face to you and push your lips against his-

Oh, God.

It’s the lack of sleep. It’s definitely the lack of sleep.

You close your eyes and bite your tongue, focusing on thinking about anything but how close Jungkook is to you.

You only open your eyes when you hear the click of your seatbelt. Jungkook leans back, and you start to breathe again.

“What would you do without me?” he asks, grinning, and you don’t meet his gaze.

“Probably be stuck in the car forever,” you say, swallowing thickly, the words coming out breathlessly.

He grins, picking up on none of that. “Probably.”

The moment your feet hit the concrete, you sigh, in need of some movement. Your mother’s right. Driving so long really is not good for your health.

Jungkook trails behind you as you walk into the little convenience store, your steps much more hurried than his. He almost bumps into you when you stop dead in your tracks. He’s about to ask you what’s wrong when he sees the other customers, all men, older men. It’s an intimidating sight. You swallow, reminded of yesterday.

“You alright?” Jungkook asks quietly, giving you a smile and stepping in front of you.

“Uh, y-yeah,” you say and clear your throat. “I mean yeah, I’m alright. It’s just-”

“You want to hold my hand?” 

The question catches you off guard. You look up to Jungkook. “W-what?”

“You know because-”

He doesn’t finish his sentence and just looks behind him. You don’t follow his gaze because you know what he’s saying. You take this short moment to admire his face, the softness of it.

“I mean you also don’t gotta,” he clears his throat. “Just so we can prevent yesterday from happening-”

Jungkook stops when you take his hands into yours, fingers slotting with his. He looks down before meeting your gaze, a smile spreading on his lips.

“Thanks,” you whisper into his arm, and he squeezes your hand.

“Anytime.”

‘Everybody Talks’ by Neon Trees just finished playing when Jungkook turns his head to you, his phone in his hand.

“Joon texted they got back,” he tells you, and you hum. “Reminds me, you never told me why Joon and Soo were out of town.”

“Did I not say?” You pucker your forehead. “Well, you know how it’s Joon’s and Soo’s anniversary?” He nods. “Well, he decided to take out Soo for a romantic getaway.”

“Oh, that’s cute,” Jungkook says, and you wrinkle your nose.

“You mean gross.”

“You think so?”

“You don’t?” you shoot back and look at him, raising a brow. You focus on the road again. “Also, look how their romantic getaway turned out. They ended up missing the roadtrip, and now we’re stuck here.”

Jungkook eyes you, words clearly sitting on his tongue, but he swallows them. 

“I guess.”

So far you haven’t hit traffic yet. So when you do after hours of travelling, you can’t even be pissed. You are, however, bored. 

Because there’s a sleeping Jungkook to your right, his arms crossed in front of his chest and his head stiffly pulled back. 

You keep yourself entertained by playing the playlist he and you created through your earbuds, quietly jamming to it until you run out of songs and start adding to it. 

You just added ‘warm’ by Junggigo and ‘Butterflies’ by Fiji Blue to the playlist when Jungkook shifts next to you. Your gaze lands on him, and you hold your breath as you watch him stir and stir until slowly, he peels his eyes open.

The first thing he does is groan.

“Ah, fuck.”

His voice is deeper than usual, thick with sleep, and his face contorts with pain. You know it’s his neck. Your assumption is confirmed when he holds it, rubbing it.

“Morning,” you greet him, quietly, earphones and phone landing in your lap. “You okay?”

Jungkook looks at you, putting on a smile.

“Hey, yeah, morning. I’m fine.” He’s definitely not. “I just slept weird.”

Jungkook rubs his eyes and stretches, groaning as he does. He blinks a couple of times, taking everything in.

“One and a half days, right?” he says, sighing. “I mean no traffic. That’s not too bad?”

You hum. “Yeah, guess we’re lucky we only hit traffic now.”

Jungkook exhales again, long and heavy, still somewhat drowsy, and looks out the window, taking in the beautiful blue sky.

“You wanna play a game?”

You turn to him at his sudden question. “A game?”

He smiles, wide awake now. “Yeah, to pass the time.”

You hum. “What game?”

“21 questions.”

“When you said play a game, you meant... ask me questions?” you say and smile when you see the look on his face.

“Well, it’s still a game-”

You give him a look, nose scrunching. “Sure,” you say. “Now hit me. What’s your question?”

“Okay, so,” a knit forms between Jungkook’s brows, “do you want to improve the world we live in?”

You still, and turn to Jungkook, your face twisting in confusion. “That’s your question? I thought 21 questions was meant to be casual, not deep.”

“Just answer the question, Y/N,” he says. “Or what? You’re too scared?”

You raise a brow. “Too scared? You think I’m too scared?” You laugh and shake your head. 

“Fine, yes, I do,” you sigh. “I do wanna improve the world. I mean obviously, right? The world is shit, so of course I wanna change it.” You pause. “Do I think I will? No. But would I like to? Sure.”

Jungkook smiles. “See! I feel like I know you much better already. Okay, what would-”

“What are you doing? What game is this when I’m the only one answering questions? This isn’t an interview, right?”

He sighs. “Fine, my answer’s the same-”

“You’re not answering the same question. That’s boring,” you say and click your tongue. “No, you’re gonna tell me—” You pause to think, a knit forming between your brows. You light up when you come up with something. “—what your biggest weakness is.”

“I thought this was not meant to be an interview?” 

“Just answer the question, Jungkook,” you parrot. “Or what? You’re too scared?”

And then he shakes his head before puckering his forehead in thought. “I suck at social interactions. Like, I’m awkward as shit.”

You click your tongue. “Doesn’t count.”

“What do you mean-”

“It means I already know that and these questions are supposed to get me to know you better. Think of another weakness.”

Jungkook grumbles but doesn’t protest it, pausing to think. “I can’t think of anything else right now-”

“Are you saying you’ve got no other weakness?” You drive up when the line moves. “Wow, that’s arrogant.”

“Fine, let me think.” He pauses, and you’re about to tell him it’s fine when he continues. “I guess I’m immature- well, immature isn’t the right word. I think I’m sometimes a bit... reckless.” He levels you with a look. “Good enough?”

You hum. “A great weakness. You’re hired.”

Jungkook grumbles. “Okay, now my turn. What would you change about yourself?”

“Change about myself?” you repeat under your breath, scrunching your nose as you think about it. 

“I mean I think I’d like to be more disciplined. Have more self-control, you know?” You press your mouth into a line. “I’m not a very confrontational person either. If I can, I will avoid uncomfortable situations at all cost, even if that means it inconveniences me.” You shrug. “I feel like there’s always something to change though, right? We could always work on ourselves and be a better and kinder version of ourselves, don’t you think?”

“Wow, you must be great at interviews,” he says, and you grin. “Your turn.”

You hum as you try to think of a question. “Tell me your greatest strength.”

“You know you’re asking awfully lot of interview questions for the fact that you teased me-”

“Just answer the question, Jungkook,” you repeat. “Or what? You’re too-”

“My greatest strength,” he interrupts loudly, and you grin, “is probably… my patience. Also, I feel like I’m pretty nice once you get to know me and get past all of the, you know, awkwardness.”

You let out a high pitched sound. “Don’t know if I’d agree.”

He snaps his head to you, eyes blown out, and the way he’s looking at you now reminds you of the way he stared at you when you told him Sooyoung and Namjoon weren’t coming. Once again, you’re convinced if you slap him on the back of his head, his eyes would fall out.

“Y/N!”

“I’m joking!”

Jungkook stares at you, face hard and serious. You know you should take him seriously, but all you can do is laugh when you look at him. 

“Stop teasing me!”

“It’s fun though,” you tell him, smiling. “Also you’re gullible. Another weakness.”

The groan that escapes him only makes your smile widen even more. 

“Whatever,” he mumbles and crosses his arms in front of his chest. You want to poke him in the cheek and tease him for being such a moody teenager, but you think that will earn you a glare.

“You still wanna play your little game?”

“I thought it wasn’t a game-”

“So you don’t.”

Your words have Jungkook snapping his head to you, and you can see the conflict in his eyes. On one hand, he wants to tease you. On the other hand, he does want to continue playing. At this point, you’re beaming.

“Just ask,” you say as a sort of peace offering, a silent promise you’ll stop teasing him so much (for now at least). And he takes it, somewhat reluctantly but definitely gladly.

“What’s your biggest regret?”

You pause, and almost forget to drive up when the line moves. Unlike with the previous questions, you think a lot longer about this one, a sight that makes Jungkook smile.

“Good question, isn’t it? Got no answer, do you?”

“Well, you tell me your biggest regret then.”

He tsks you. “This is your question. You gotta answer it, not me.”

You purse your lips and think. “Probably when I decided cutting my hair with a pair of blunt kitchen scissors was a good idea. You’ll find no pictures of me during junior year.”

“That’s your only regret?” He arches a brow. 

“I once touched the hot stovetop and burned myself pretty badly.”

“How old were you?”

“Six maybe?”

“That doesn’t count then,” he tells you, and as much as you want to protest, you know he’s right. Being a kid and doing stupid stuff is a given. It shouldn’t be a regret.

You sigh. 

The only other thing you can come up with is the time you decided to hook up with Jungkook. It’s not the act in itself was something you regretted, but it just feels weird for you to share such a history with him. It’s unlike you. You know in a separate universe he and you hooking up probably lead to something more, a relationship maybe, one that you grew happy being in. But this isn’t the universe in which you get together with Jungkook. It’s the one in which you have to anxiously sit next to him as you hope he’ll never remember you.

“Well, I have had too much and done some stupid stuff,” you tentatively begin, trying to be as vague as possible, not wanting to possibly jumpstart Jungkook’s memories.

“Like?”

You look out your window and press your hands into your thighs. “Like think I can dance or sing all of a sudden, or that texting my ex is a brilliant idea.”

“Feel like we’ve all done that.”

His eyes are on you. You can feel it, and you know he’s not letting this go until you give him something.

“Well, once I…. went home with this guy.” 

You instantly regret speaking. You don’t dare to look at Jungkook, far too scared that recognition might reflect in his eyes. You don’t know what you would do then.

“He was that bad, huh?” A laugh accompanies his question, and you try to mimic it, keeping the atmosphere light.

“I mean no, but it’s just… not like me at all, you know?” You gesture around yourself. “To hook up with people. Not something I’d do sober. It’s just… embarrassing. It has nothing to do with him, just- you know, me-”

Jungkook looks at you then, his mouth opening to say something, but you stop him, desperate to change the topic.

“Oh,” you pick up your phone, “right! I’ve, uh, added a couple of new songs to the playlist.”

He knows what you’re doing. Jungkook��s not stupid. But thankfully, he lets you off the hook.

“Put them on.”

“I’m banning McDonald’s,” you say when you walk out of the third clown restaurant in less than two days. “I can’t do this again.”

Jungkook laughs next to you, still sipping on his coke. “Well, it does look like we’re gonna be at the hotel early. We can go look for a proper place to have dinner then.”

“Please,” you sigh and tuck a strand behind your ear when you feel a gust of wind. Your steps are exceptionally slow, stomach filled with a mediocre cheeseburger and greasy fries.

“Alright, we’ll do that then,” Jungkook hums. “Keys?”

You fish them out of your pocket and hand them to him. You’ve fallen into a routine. Around lunchtime, you switch. 

You perk up when you see Jungkook rub his neck, face twisted in pain. You’ve already noticed him rubbing his neck earlier when you were eating. 

“Hey,” he stops and looks at you, “I just remembered. I need something from the store.” You point at the little convenience store next to McDonald’s. “Go ahead. I’ll be right back.”

And before Jungkook can offer to go with you, you walk inside, hoping you’ll find what you’re looking for. They must have them here too, you think. It takes you a minute to find them, but when you do, you beam. But your smile is quickly replaced by a frown when you see the price. When you remember how he’s been rubbing and massaging his neck for the last hour, it disappears and you walk over to the checkout.

Jungkook replaced his coke for his phone when you come back, a frown etching into his face when he sees the plastic bag you’re holding.

“What did you-”

He stills when you pull it out. You hold it out to him.

“It’s for you.” 

You shove it into his hands.

“Y/N,” he begins, voice soft and quiet, face softening. “Why?”

“Because obviously, your neck is hurting. Now, try it out.”

Jungkook gives you a look before sighing and putting the neck pillow around his neck, leaning into it.

“And? You feel supported?”

He smiles. “Very.”

You ball up the plastic bag and throw it into the back. “Great.”

“How much was it? It must have been so expensive,” Jungkook says, and you roll your eyes. “I’ll pay you-”

“No, you’re not,” you say. 

“Just tell me how-”

“No.”

He removes the neck pillow and levels you with a look. 

“Y/N.”

“Jungkook,” you repeat, not nearly as serious though. 

The corners of your lips quirk up when he heaves out a sigh. He closes his eyes. “You’re not gonna tell me, are you?”

“Of course not,” you grin and put on your seatbelt. “Now drive. I wanna have a proper dinner.”

Even though you’ve never been to this city before, the park reminds you oddly enough of your local park. You think it’s the Magnolia trees.

Looking around, you’re glad Jungkook suggested you get takeout instead of sitting in the little dingy Chinese diner when your initial plans of going to the city’s best sushi place fell through. (They didn’t accept walk-ins.) As sad as it was (and it really was because Jungkook spent an hour comparing dozens of restaurants on Yelp and sacrificed a good chunk of his data), you’re happy you ended up in the park. Something about having dinner under the summer sky is just especially calming and beautiful, the warm sticky evening air blowing in your face. 

“I like it here,” you tell Jungkook, and he hums, mouth stuffed with fried rice.

“It’s nice,” he agrees with you, and you pick up your chopsticks again, shovelling your noodles into your mouth. “But the food…”

He trails off, and you almost start laughing. 

“Yeah, it’s not great,” you say and swallow. “The noodles are weirdly greasy.”

“Yeah, I can see.” Jungkook points at your oil-soaked paper container. “The rice is not good either. Too wet, and it has a weird aftertaste too.”

You hum. You did switch to noddles for a reason. 

“But,” you look at him, pulling up a chopstick full of noodles, “still better than McDonald’s.”

“That’s for sure, and,” he picks up a spring roll from your shared box sitting between you on the bank, “the spring rolls are actually really fucking good.”

You grab one for yourself. “Yeah, they got those right.” 

The sun isn’t setting just yet, but it is slowly losing its vibrancy, fading into the background. The light it does have left filters beautifully through the leaves and flowers of the Magnolia trees, creating soft and delicate shadows on the concrete that dance in rhythm with the wind. You sit right underneath a majestic Magnolia tree, and from your bench, you can see a small family of three having a nice little picnic on your left and a group of kids playing football on your right. You tuck your hair out of your face when a breeze blows past you. It’s not too hot or humid today.

It’s the perfect summer day.

And once again, you notice how fading and fleeting the warm months are, notice how it’s all slowly coming to a bittersweet ending, how this trip will be the thing defining your summer until next year. You smile at that thought. Oddly enough, you’re fine with that.

“It’s a really beautiful day though,” you mumble, and Jungkook looks over to you, mouth stuffed with fried rice. He pauses. “Makes up for the mediocre food.”

He sticks his chopsticks into the rice (something his mother would scold him for) and wipes his mouth. His eyes are on you, solely on you. You don’t notice. He smiles.

“Beautiful indeed.”

When you finish eating (and by finish you mean when neither of you can stomach any longer of the mediocre Chinese food without risking possibly getting food poisoning), the sun has slowly begun to set, golden hour coming to an end. The little family is long gone at this point, and the group of kids you watched a minute ago are nowhere to be seen either. 

You’re gathering up your leftovers, packing them all up and making sure to leave nothing behind, when Jungkook suddenly straightens up. You’re far too busy to notice it, and by the time you do, he’s already up and walking away, leaving you without an explanation.

“Uh-”

The rest of your sentence gets lodged in your throat when he begins to run. You see it then. An ice cream truck. You hear it then too, the faint little tune coming from it. You spot the group of kids huddled around it, holding their wallets up in the air. That’s where they went, you think.

When Jungkook comes back, you’ve long finished packing everything up.

“Here,” he says, holding out a Spiderman shaped ice cream to you. “I mean unless you want Iron Man.”

You laugh and gladly accept Spiderman. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Are you gonna let me repay you?”

And when Jungkook just moves the plastic bags to the side and sits down next to you, you know the answer. 

Is it a good idea to eat ice cream so shortly after all of that Chinese food? Definitely not. Do either of you care? Not at all.

“You think they’re on a date?” you ask when you spot two teenagers by the ice cream truck. Even from afar, you can see their fidgeting. You smile, remembering how you used to be like that too. Sometimes still are even.

“Look at him,” Jungkook laughs, gesturing towards the boy. “They’re definitely on a date. You can see he wants to hold her hand.”

You hum and go back to eating.

“You think people think we’re dating when they look at us?”

You stop. For a moment, you don’t react at all until it hits you and you snap your gaze to Jungkook, eyes wide.

“W-what?” you sputter and almost choke.

Jungkook instantly begins to laugh, a gigantic smile growing on his lips. “What? Is it so bad if people might think that?” he asks, taking a bite from his ice cream, and you would have cringed and told him not to do that if your brain wasn’t reeling from his question.

“I- what? I-I don’t-”

You stop when he laughs even more, and soon enough your face twists in annoyance, nose scrunching. A pout grows on your lips and you avert your gaze, cheeks ablaze.

“It’s not funny,” you inform him, but Jungkook doesn’t agree, grinning at you. “But no, I don’t think so.” 

You still don’t look at him when you speak.

“Really?” There’s disbelief in his voice. “I mean I’m not trying to imply anything, but, you know, you and I are sitting on the bench together, eating ice cream and-”

“Sure, yeah, but this is also not a romcom in which we dance under the stars, go on coffee shop dates, and sneak out to meet in the middle of the night, Jungkook,” you interrupt, the words spilling from your lips quickly. “This is the 21st century. People no longer assume we’re dating because you’re a guy and I’m a girl and we’re having ice-”

“Didn’t you assume that they’re dating because they are a guy and girl getting ice cream?” Jungkook asks and points at the two teenagers. You still and press your mouth into a line.

His gaze lingers on you as he waits and waits for your defence. You can’t come up with anything though. So in a desperate attempt to save face, you get up and grab one of the plastic bags. 

“I’m tired,” you announce, voice thin and weak.

You know Jungkook’s smirking. You expect a comment, but nothing follows. He just gets up, grabs the other bag and happily takes another bite from his Iron Man ice cream as he catches up with you.

This time you didn’t fuck up the reservations. This time there are two beds, so when you get back, there’s no discussion and fight about who takes the couch. This time you both just claim your beds.

Jungkook lets you have the bathroom first, and when you’re done, showered and washed up, you find him eating the rice from before.

“Thought it tasted off,” you say as you dry your hair with a towel, and he hums.

“It does,” he looks at you, “but it’s still food.”

You smile and sit down on the bed, pulling out your phone and checking your messages; assuring your mother you’re fine, making plans with Yeji and Sana to go shopping after the trip, and telling Sooyoung you’re back in the hotel.

“Gonna wash up,” Jungkook tells you, and you look up to find him no longer eating, everything packed up.

“Alright.”

The call comes right when you hear the shower turn on.

“Y/N!” Sooyoung greets you, the smile audible in her voice.

“Hey,” you mumble and lie down, rubbing your eyes and suppressing a yawn. “What’s up?”

“Oh, I just wanted to check in with you.” You look over to the bathroom. The shower is still running. You have time. “How’s it with Kook?”

You press your lips together. “Fine.”

“See!” You have to hold your phone away from your ear, cringing at her volume. “I told you it wasn’t gonna be bad!”

“Yeah, whatever,” you mumble and sigh, closing your eyes as you feel the exhaustion taking over you more and more. 

“How did you solve the bed dilemma yesterday?”

“Soo,” you press through your teeth, hoping it’s enough for her to get the message.

“Oh, Y/N, just tell me! Did you guys sleep in one bed?”

You pinch your nose bridge and sigh. “Please, stop.”

“You gotta tell me! Don’t leave me hanging like that,” she tells you, and you want to groan, but refrain when you hear the shower stop.

“He took the couch, okay? Happy?” you hiss. It’s not a complete lie. Jungkook did take the couch, for around ten minutes.

“Oh, did he? How gentleman of Kook,” Sooyoung says, but you hear a smirk on her lips. You frown. “But,” your heart sinks in your chest, “Joon told me Kook told him you ended up sharing the bed.”

“I’m hanging up again,” you say and end the call early once more.

When Jungkook comes back, you’re already tucked in, phone charging on the nightstand and eyes squeezed shut. You hear him still at your sight before his footsteps resume again. 

There’s silence. 

Until there isn’t.

A thud.

You turn on the lamp, just to see Jungkook sitting on a sunken bed.

“Did you break-”

He presses his mouth into a thin line.

“Yup.”

Jungkook didn’t break the bed. The hotel staff informs you there’s a loose screw. It’s been fixed but needs fixing again. They apologise profusely.

You sigh when he finishes relaying all of the information. “So moving rooms, huh?”

“Yeah, uh, about that...” 

Jungkook gives you a look you can’t place, but when he picks up the bedding and throws it all on the couch, it dawns on you.

“Don’t tell me…” You don’t finish your sentence. “How?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “Seems like a lot of people are going on roadtrips now.”

You bury your face in your hands. This feels like a fucking joke. Sooyoung’s right. What in the Wattpad fanfiction is this?

“Okay, but clearly I’m sleeping on the couch,” you say, and Jungkook’s quick to lie down before you can act.

“Look, Y/N, let’s not do this again. It’s my bed that broke, so I should sleep-”

“But your neck!”

“Goodnight.”

And with that, Jungkook pulls the cover over his body and turns his back to you, letting out the most obnoxiously loud and fake snore. 

This time it’s not a full-size bed. This time it’s just a twin size bed. This time you still can’t let Jungkook sleep on that stupidly small couch, not with his neck pain for sure. (Why can’t hotels have decently sized couches?)

“You’re not gonna let me sleep on the couch, are you?” 

You get a loud snore in response. You heave out a sigh.

“Can I trust you?”

There’s no snoring this time. You think he knows where you’re going with this. You fumble with the covers, heart thumping in your chest.

“We can’t… put a barrier this time.”

And like he’s been stung, Jungkook sits up, his eyes wide as he looks at you. You look away, and you hope the lamp is dim enough to hide the embarrassment etched into your face.

“Just-” Your voice is weak, cracking. You’re running out of air. “I can trust you, right?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook’s eyes soften. “Y/N, I’m really fine with sleeping on the-”

“Well—” You tuck a strand behind your ear, feeling hot all of a sudden. The AC is running though? “—I’m not. You’ve got the neck pain and the couch is also fucking tiny. Just, you know, don’t be…. weird.”

You’re certain. The AC must be broken. How else is it possible that your entire body is on fire, burning up as you speak? That must be it. The AC must have just broken.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything for a while, thinks about your proposal, and you can hear your heart grow louder in your chest, pounding harder against your rib cage.

“Are you sure?”

He asks this quietly and tentatively. It gives you the courage to look back at him. He levels you with the same look he gave you when you offered to sleep in the same bed before. You hold his gaze, somehow.

“Yeah.”

And then, Jungkook gets up, taking his bedding with him, but you stop him.

“I don’t think-”

He pauses and you gesture at the bed to finish your sentence. There’s no space. That’s what you want to say, but it never leaves your lips. He understands though, and leaves the bedding on the couch.

There’s an awkwardness hanging between you as Jungkook walks over. It’s comical really, especially when you think about the fact that he and you have done a lot more than sleep in a bed together. Sure, you had alcohol buzzing through your systems then, but still, it’s ridiculous how tense it is right now.

When he lifts the cover, you can instantly feel the tininess of the bed. He and you will be sleeping centimetres apart from each other.

“Sorry,” Jungkook apologises when he bums your hand with his, clumsily slipping into bed. The apology is pointless though because his entire arm ends up being pressed against yours.

“I’m just gonna-” 

You don’t finish speaking and just turn on your side, back facing towards him. He nods before doing the same. You turn off the lamp. Jungkook shifts, and when you peek over your shoulder, you see him lying on the edge of the mattress, on the brink of falling out of the bed.

You sigh. “Do you-”

He perks up when you speak, and you have to pause to gather your voice. It’s hoarse for some reason.

“Do you want to come closer?”

You whisper the question. It’s barely audible, but with Jungkookso close to you, he hears it, clearly, like you whispered it into his ear.

“I’m fine-”

“You’re falling off the bed,” you tell him, and close your eyes before forcing the words out, clearing your throat. “If you want to, you can, uh, put your arm around me.”

For a moment, Jungkook doesn’t say anything. You think he’s going to decline, tell you it’s the last thing he would want-

“Are you, uh, sure?”

You want to throw the covers to the side. It’s too damn hot, your face on fire at this point.

“Yeah.”

Nothing happens and for a while, all you hear is his breathing before he starts to shift, his arm lifting underneath the cover and hesitantly sneaking around your middle.

“Is this, uh, okay?” he asks, careful to not put too much pressure on you, and you nod.

“Y-yeah.”

He clears his throat. “Alright.”

Jungkook is breathing into your neck. He must be close, you think, so close that if you turned, your lips would almost be touching. You squeeze your eyes shut at the thought, glad you’re facing away from him.

“Goodnight.”

You can’t tell him the same, your voice long gone at this point. 

“This is why you wanted to check out so early?” Jungkook thanks the waitress when she takes back the menu. “So we could have breakfast?”

Your face is scrunched up in a frown, confusion etched into your features. “Why couldn’t we just have breakfast at the hotel?”

Jungkook beams at you. “Hotel breakfast doesn’t compare to café breakfast, does it?”

“Yeah, but I could have slept another hour,” you say and run a hand through your hair, rubbing your eyes.

“Slept that badly, huh?”

You look at Jungkook. His face is twisted in something you can’t pinpoint.

“Stop,” you tell him, shaking your head. “I’m just always tired.”

He doesn’t respond then, and just curls his fingers around the orange cup, sipping on his coffee.

You’re not lying. You actually didn’t sleep badly, and you think you should assure him of that, tell Jungkook that you’re naturally always tired because you’re a college student, that sharing a bed with him isn’t the reason for your exhaustion, but somehow, you can’t will yourself to form the words.

“It’s nice here,” you say, looking around the café, the scnet of buttery pastries and freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air, powdered sugar floating around, the quiet hissing of the coffee machine in the back accompanying the piano music playing through the speakers.

“Best café in the city,” Jungkook told you, and you raise a brow.

“Did you scour Yelp-”

“Yes.”

“For how long?”

Jungkook makes a face then, and you know longer than anyone else would, hours at least. You shake your head in disbelief and mutter under your breath, “You’ve got too much time on your hands.”

“Well, you like it here right? Totally worth it then,” he says, and as much as you don’t want to, heat crawls up your neck.

Your food arrives shortly after; a handful of golden brown waffles topped with powdered sugar, slices of strawberries and blueberries, and a steaming buttery croissant with jam on the side. The sight is Instagram worthy, your jaw dropping wide open.

“See, scouring Yelp for hours on end was worth it,” Jungkook grins, taking a picture of your food, and you frown.

“How much did you sleep?” you ask, reaching for your coffee and blowing across the surface, narrowing your eyes. There’s a click when you put it back on its saucer, a drop of coffee spilling on it. Brown clashing with washed-out purple.

“Enough,” he tells you, and you know he’s lying, the espresso shot he had added to his coffee selling him out. “Anyway, I’m starving. Let’s just eat.”

You comply, ripping your freshly baked croissant in half, steam wafting from it in hazy waves. You place one half onto Jungkook’s plate. He does the same, transferring half of his waffles to you.

“Is this what we do now?” he asks you when you pick up some of the jam with the tip of the butter knife.

“Seems like it.”

You smile at each other.

“Thank you,” you mumble when Jungkook helps you, once again, to click off the seatbelt. “One day I’ll be able to do it myself.”

He smiles and throws the door shut. You jump out too. “Sure, Y/N. One day.”

You give him a look, and he offers you a smile. Side by side, you walk across the mostly empty parking lot before entering the convenience store. They all look more or less the same, you realise. You see no difference between this one and the first one you walked into.

Jungkook takes your hand into his almost automatically, and you don’t even stop for a second to think about it, gripping it back.

“Is this what we do now?” you ask as you browse through the aisle, looking for something that’s not chips and nuts.

He smiles. “Seems like it.”

You give him a look before shaking your head and leading him towards the refrigerator aisle, eyes finding a prepackaged box of sushi.

“Hey, you in the mood for sushi?” You pick up a box, inspecting it carefully. It doesn’t look too bad actually.

“When am I not?” he shoots back, and it’s decided then. Rest stop sushi for lunch it is.

You pick up another box and hand it to Jungkook before walking over to the checkout, grabbing two water bottles on your way there. The clerk hasn’t even begun ringing you up when you pull out your wallet and place an obscene amount of bills on the counter.

“Y/N!” Jungkook protests, but you ignore him, shoving his wallet to the side.

“You should have let me pay,” he tells you when you walk out of the store, still holding hands for some reason, and you snort.

“Well, then you should let me pay for gas.”

“I have let you-”

“Once.”

“Twice!”

You click your tongue. “You should let me pay every time.”

Without looking, you know he’s rolling his eyes. You don’t care, a smile on your lips. Paying for lunch is a win in your books. You’re sure you’ll be paying for gas too by the end of the trip.

The sushi is mediocre at best, and worse than the Chinese takeout you had yesterday at worst, but for some reason, neither Jungkook nor you stop eating. The wasabi helps. It overpowers the refrigerator taste that’s stuck to the rice.

And as you eat, occasionally taking sips from your water, watching the cars speed past you on the highway with the AC blasting in your faces because it’s still summer and your roadtrip playlist playing in the background, you have to smile. You don’t know why, but a smile just finds your lips. And when you look over to Jungkook, it widens. Even more when he notices your gaze and gives you a smile too.

Once more, you realise how beautiful summer is, how everything feels possible and impossible at the same time, how every hour reminds you of a childhood you’ve never had, how the months are filled with either melancholy or exhilaration.

You spent too much time at the rest stop, you conclude, when you arrive at the hotel, much later than planned. Because after you both finished your sushi, you suggested walking off the food. So, you both jumped out again, and walked a couple of laps, talking about everything and nothing. And hitting traffic soon after certainly delayed things by quite a bit as well.

The problem with arriving later than planned at the hotel means responding to your mother later than planned, so when you finally do, you’re not surprised your phone lights up with a call from her a minute later.

You look over your shoulder. Jungkook just went into the bathroom, meaning you had around ten minutes to get this done if sharing a hotel room with him for the past three days taught you anything. That should be more than enough.

You’re met with the usual questions—are you alright? Did you eat? Are you enjoying yourself?—and you answer them all with relative ease, staying quiet when your mother scolds you for having chips as dinner. It’s a like any, until-

“Yes, I will-”

You’re cut off by the sound of Jungkook’s soothingly soft singing that’s very much deserving of praise and attention any other day but elicits panic in you now. 

“Uh,” you start coughing and making extra noise, hoping to drown out Jungkook as you quickly walk out into the hallway, grabbing the key card before the door clicks shut.

“Are you sick, honey?” your mother asks.

“Oh, no, no, I just… choked on water,” you explain to her quickly. “I’m fine though.”

“Yeah? Be careful.” 

You hum, glad she didn’t bring up the-

“Also, who was singing just now?”

You screw your eyes shut and curse.

“Singing?” You try your best to sound confused. “What singing?”

Your mother shifts on the other side, and you would have definitely caved under her gaze if she was in front of you now. 

“Didn’t you hear? For a moment before you started choking, I heard a voice, singing. A boy, I think.”

You chuckle. “Yeah, uh, I don’t know-”

It’s the faint call of your name that halts you. You look at the door. It’s coming from there, you think. You pause to listen but nothing. You’re about to go back to dismissing your mother when the door opens, and a freshly showered Jungkook stands in front of you, hair dripping with water, droplets landing on his shirt, his eyes big.

“Y/N,” he says at your sight. “God, I already wondered where-”

“Mom, sorry, I gotta, uh, go-”

“Don’t you dare hang up on me, Y/N,” your mother interrupts you, and you freeze, feeling like a child. Your eyes lock with Jungkook’s, face contorted in horror. He presses his mouth shut, offering you an apologetic look.

“Who’s that?”

You close your eyes for a moment. “Jungkook.”

You don’t look at him when you speak his name.

There’s a long pause. “Can I talk to him?

And although she worded it like a question, you know it’s not. You hold your phone towards Jungkook, and his eyes grow gigantic. He shakes his head, backing away, but you shove it into his hands, mouthing to him just how sorry you were.

“Uh, h-hello?”

You push him back into the room, almost stumbling over his own feet as he does. You take your phone from him and put it on speaker.

“... to meet you.”

“Ah, yes, very, uh, nice to meet you too, Ms Y/L/N,” Jungkook coughs out and you sit down on the edge of Jungkook’s bed. (Yes, there are two beds, neither broken.”

“I just heard you singing,” your mother informs him, and you throw your hands into the air. How in the hell did she hear him?

“Oh.” 

Jungkook looks terrified, and you grab onto his hand resting on the bed, awaiting your mother’s words with him, sharing nervous looks. He interlocks his fingers with yours, your thumb brushing over his tattooed knuckles.

“No need to be embarrassed,” she says with a smile. “You’ve got a good voice.”

“T-thank you very much.”

There’s a pause then, and you lock eyes with Jungkook once more. You think maybe you can take the phone from him, but right just as you’re about to, your mother begins again,

“In what kind of relationship are you with my daughter?”

You think it's the straightforwardness of the question, the bluntness and casualness she asks it with. It has your jaw dropping open and your eyes screwing shut in horror. Embarrassment flushes through you, and you want to say something, but the words are all muddled on your tongue.

“Are you her boyfriend?”

You can’t even bring yourself to look at Jungkook, too mortified to peek into his direction.

“Uh, I-” He’s stammering, struggling to find his voice, and you can’t blame him, words failing you and refusing to come out too. What you can’t understand though is when he decides to say this, 

“Yes.”

You think you would have had a bigger reaction if you weren’t so tired. But you are, so all you do is stare ahead of you for a few seconds before crashing down on the bed, face burying into your hands.

“Oh,” your mother says, and you don’t know if she’s happy or not, if she’s going to ask Jungkook to give back your phone and scold you like she did sophomore year. “For how long now?”

“N-not long.”

“But you are serious, right?”

“Y-”

You shoot up and take your phone from Jungkook, putting an end to this before he can spew more bullshit.

“Mom, we gotta go,” you quickly say. “We’ll talk later. Bye.”

And before your mother can tell you not to hang up on her, you do and throw your phone to the side. Silence hits you, and you close your eyes again, not wanting to look at Jungkook. He shifts next to you and clears his throat. It takes you a while, but when you think you’re not going to end up strangling him, you peel your eyes open. 

Your mouth parts to speak, but no words leave you. It takes you a few tries to find your voice. All you manage is a simple but desperate and confused, “Why?”

“I got nervous-”

“So you told my mom we are dating?” you exclaim, snapping back, and stare at Jungkook. He doesn’t meet your gaze, wringing out his hands.

“Well, I- you know how awkward I am!” he argues, but it does nothing to calm you, exasperation carved into your face. “When she asked if we were dating, I-I just panicked, okay? I didn’t know what to say and-”

He deflates, and you’re stuck between deciding to yell at him and silently passing away. In the end, you choose the latter, burying your face in your hands and leaning back. You can already feel the headache building up. Your mother won’t let this go. You’ll hear an earful. As much as you love her, it’s frustrating how she still sees you as a child in need of protection every step of the way.

“I’m tired,” you say after a while. You don’t know how much time has passed. 

Neither of you have moved. There’s heaviness in the air. You get up without a word, slipping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind you. You don’t hear the sigh Jungkook lets out.

And with that, you’re knocked right back to the starting point. All of the progress you’ve made in the last three days, the friendship you’ve built, crumbles right to the floor, lying there in shards.

You can’t sleep.

Again, it’s not unusual for you to struggle to fall asleep on your first night at a hotel. The mattress is either too comfortable or not comfortable enough. The cover is either too thick or not thick enough. The pillow either sinks in too much or- You get the point. But you know that’s not why you can’t sleep. It’s the heaviness that weighs down your chest, the tension that fills every corner and crack of the room, the rigidness you inhale with every breath.

You turn on your back. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook on his back too. The two of you lying in your respective beds, and even though you’re only a handful of steps away from each other, it feels like a rift, a gaping hole, splitting you up, stranding both of you on your own lonely islands.

“Y/N?”

It’s quiet, tentatively.

“Yeah?”

Your voice sounds short and odd. You’re no longer mad- you don’t even think you were that to begin with. You were just… frustrated.

“I’m sorry.”

You turn your head to him and grip the covers. Words sit at the back of your throat, assurances that he doesn’t need to apologise, but before they can form on your tongue and spill out, he continues.

“I-I know that I put you in a weird spot, but I just-” There’s a pause, followed up with a sigh. “If you want, I’ll explain it to your mother- I just got flustered and nervous. And you’ve got every right to be mad at me, but just know I am sorry-”

He halts when you sit up and turn on the lamp. You both blink at the sudden brightness, but you move on quickly, needing to set the record straight.

“Jungkook, no,” you begin, shaking your head, eyes staring firmly into his, “don’t apologise. You don’t have to talk to my mother, I’ll figure it out myself. And actually, I wasn’t mad at you. I was just,” your gaze lowers, “frustrated because- my mother, she’s a bit protective of me, you know? She’s always been super critical of the guys I date, you know? And I’m just gonna get an earful-”

You pause and take a moment to breathe. “But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I should apologise. So I’m sorry, Jungkook. I put you in a weird spot. I’m truly sorry for that.”

He sits up too, crossing his legs. A soft smile finds his face. “Looks like we’re both sorry, huh?”

“I’m more though.”

His smile turns into a grin. “No, I am.”

You raise a brow. “Pretty sure I am.”

He tuts you. “I’m going to have to politely and respectfully disagree with you. I definitely feel more sorry.”

You hold his gaze. “This is gonna go on and on, isn’t it?” When he smiles, you sigh. “I’m going back to sleep. Goodnight.”

You turn off the lamp. He laughs.

And even though the issue is resolved, you don’t slip into sleep. It’s like the exhaustion that plagued you previously has dissipated, and for some reason, you’re cold. It keeps you up. You want to turn off the AC, but you don’t want to get up either and risk waking up Jungkook. So you do nothing.

An eternity passes, and you still find no sleep. Your eyes trace over to Jungkook’s side. He has his back turned to you. You press your lips into a line. In the dark, you can’t figure out if he’s sleeping or not.

“Jungkook?”

And like you yelled his name, he snaps his head around. “Yeah?”

He’s wide awake. Still, you keep your voice small when you continue, “Are you sleeping?”

“Yes, I’m sleeping right as we speak,” he tells you, and you send him a glare in the darkness. You think you can make out a smile on his face.

“I can’t sleep.”

You’re not sure why you tell Jungkook this, how he’s supposed to solve that problem for you, but the words are already out there and you can’t take them back. You expect a snarky comment, something annoying that will make you roll your eyes, but you’re met with the opposite.

“Do you want to watch something?”

You look at him with big eyes. “What would we be watching?”

“Anything you want,” he tells you, and even though you’re very much overwhelmed with the unlimited choice, you smile.

“Let’s.”

And just like that, the lights get turned on again, the night feeling foolishly young once more. 

Jungkook digs out his laptop from his suitcase and you fish out the only bag of chips you have left from the first day.

“Where do we…”

You trail off, but Jungkook knows what you’re asking. 

“My bed?” 

You nod and grab your pillow while he sets everything up. 

When you’re both finally in bed, covers thrown over you, hands taking turns to reach into the chips bag, he presents you with the hardest question anyone has ever asked you,

“What do you want to watch?”

You frown as you look at everything Netflix offers. You can’t choose, of course, so you choose to shoot back the question.

“What do you want to watch?”

Jungkook starts scrolling, mouth pressed in a line. “A film or-”

“Film.”

“Alright,” he clicks on the film section, “let’s see what- oh, how about Spirited Away?”

You’re quick to shake your head. “No, no, no, that’s too scary-”

“Scary?” Jungkook raises a brow.

You look away. “Look, I get scared easily, okay? No face is kinda scary, don’t you think? It’s also the middle of the night-”

“But I’d be watching with you.”

You scrunch your nose, shaking your head no again. “Let’s just watch Totoro.” 

You feel bad for shooting down his suggestion. 

“We can watch Spirited Away after.” You shove a handful of chips into your mouth, mumbling while chewing, “You can protect me then.”

Jungkook looks at you, his hand stilling in the chips bag. You don’t return his gaze.

“You know, since you’re my boyfriend or whatever,” you add quickly and clear your throat, hoping it’s obvious that it’s a joke as you search up Totoro. You don’t have to look to know there’s a smile on his lips.

“Gladly-”

You start the film, and Jungkook quiets down. You don’t feel cold anymore, not with him pressed to your side.

And as you lean back to watch, quietly munching on the chips, you know you were wrong. You weren’t knocked back to the starting point of your friendship. He and you have come a long way, figuratively and literally.

You’re first to wake up.

The first thing you notice is the weird taste in your mouth, and you curse your past self for thinking having chips after brushing your teeth was a good idea. The second thing you notice is the arm around your middle, an arm that unmistakably belongs to none other than Jungkook; the tattoos confirming your assumption. The third thing you notice is just how close he is to you; his breath in your neck, his chest against your back, warmth radiating off him. 

Your heart beats heavy in your chest, heavier than usual. It should scare you, but for some reason, it doesn’t. For some reason, when it’s Jungkook, you feel at ease.

And even though waking up in the same bed as him prompted you to run out last time, you don’t even feel a smidge of that same panic. In fact, you don’t feel anything at all. Actually, no, you do feel something. You feel like closing your eyes again, slipping back into slumber with him.

So you do.

Before you drift back though, you wonder what would have happened if you hadn’t run out two years ago.

When you finally wake up, it’s the middle of the day. A glance at the clock and you come to the mortifying realisation that you have exactly five minutes to check out. Clearly, not enough time.

You’re hurrying around the room, picking up everything that belongs to you and throwing it into your suitcase (because even though you didn’t unpack, you still have quite a bit lying around) when Jungkook suddenly stills, neck pillow in his hand.

“Do you want to stay another day?”

“What?”

“I mean, we’re not gonna check out in time anyway, right? And so far we haven’t had the time to explore any of the cities we’ve been in either, so how about we do it now then? Let’s stay another night.”

Your brows knit together. “But I mean…. don’t we have to, you know, drive-”

“It’s just another eight hours until we’re-” He cuts himself off, flicking his wrist. “You know what? Forget it. It’s a stupid idea.”

Jungkook dismisses his suggestion before you can even think about it, going back to packing up, hooking the neck pillow to his bag before grabbing the clothes he has lying around. You watch him for a few seconds before taking out the shirt he just folded and throwing it onto the bed. 

“Let’s stay another day,” you smile, expecting a smile from him too, but Jungkook doesn’t, face twisting in something you can’t figure out. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I ironed the shirt before the trip. It wrinkles really easily,” he tells you quietly, a strange noise coming from the back of his throat. He’s in pain. “But it’s fine. I-I can iron it again. At home. Later. Actually, I didn’t want to wear it on the trip anyway.”

It doesn’t sound fine at all.

You cup your hands in front of your mouth. “I’m so sorry-”

Jungkook stops you from walking over to the bed and desperately try to smooth out the wrinkles, shaking his head. 

“It’s fine, Y/N,” he assures you again, and now it actually sounds fine. “Really, it’s fine.”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him nevertheless and rub your hands together, eyes drifting to the side.

He gives you a smile. “Well, I’m gonna go down and talk to the reception about us staying another night.”

“Go do that.”

And when the door shuts, you smile.

Being alone for once, you take the chance to pull out your phone to text your mother a long-winded explanation of last night and how Jungkook and you are merely friends. You think that will do for now, assure her you didn’t keep another boyfriend secret from her. Still, you’re certain you’ll get an earful once you’re back.

“And now, if I may draw your attention to your right here—” You turn your head, a smile growing on your lips as you watch Jungkook struggle to find the rest of his sentence. “—you’ll see this… gorgeous little famous brick building.”

You raise your hand. He picks you. “What is it famous for?”

“Ah, yes, great question, young lady,” he coughs, and you can quite literally see the wheels turn in his head. “It’s famous… for its ghosts.”

And even though he doesn’t word it like a question, it very much sounds like one.

“Ghosts?” you repeat, raising a brow.

“Yes, ghosts,” Jungkook repeats, doubling down. “Happy ghosts though. Not spooky ghosts. I know how easily you scare.”

You roll your eyes, regretting revealing this information to him. “Please continue your tour.”

“Right, yes, follow me.”

Once your reservations were settled, you realised neither of you know what to do with all of that extra time. A city tour was thrown around, but it turns out booking a city tour on such notice is more than difficult. But Jungkook was quick to tell you anyone could give a city tour. Hell, he could do it!

So here you are, walking through the streets with Jungkook as he scrambles to make things up as you go, pointing at buildings you walk past and telling you about their supposed history.

“And this,” he stops and you look up, “is probably the most famous sight-”

“A McDonald’s?” you deadpan, scrunching your nose.

“A McDonald’s,” he says with a nod, and you raise your hand again. “Yes, please?”

“So where can I get my money back because clearly, this tour is a scam-”

“Y/N!”

“You’re telling me that McDonald's is the best thing this town has to offer? This is supposed to be the best city tour ever? A sham, I tell you!” 

“I’m trying here.” A dramatic pout grows on Jungkook’s lips, and you can’t help but laugh. You pinch his cheek. 

He scrunches his face and pushes your hand aside. “Y/N!”

“Well, if you’re gonna pout like a child, you’re gonna be treated like one,” you tell him, smiling.

“If you’re so dissatisfied with the tour, do it better-”

“I never proclaimed myself to be the best tour guide around though,” you shoot back, and he scrunches his nose.

“Being a tour guide is hard, alright-”

“You just suck.”

Jungkook presses his lips into a line and stares at you. You give him a smile, enjoying this far too much.

“You’re mean, Y/N, you know that?” he hisses, and you laugh. “I’m not doing the tour anymore.”

“Thank god,” you exhale, placing your hand on your chest, feigning relief. Jungkook gapes at you. You laugh again. “Come on, let’s just go.”

“Where to?” he asks you, and you hook your arm with his, smiling.

“Anywhere,” you say.

Jungkook blinks at you before finally, cracking a smile too.

“Anywhere it is.”

You walk side by side, exploring the streets and corners and shops this city has to offer, dipping in and out of cafés and bookstores on your way. And at some point, you’re holding his hand. You don’t notice it until you have to let go at some point and reach for Jungkook’s hand again. You can’t say whose hands wandered first, but you can say it feels oddly natural. It feels oddly right.

“Now, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jungkook asks you with a smile when the credits start rolling, the outro music of Spirited Away filling the air around you. He turns his head to you.

“Shut up,” you mumble, downing the last bit of wine you have left in your paper cup (this hotel is the opposite of fancy). “But no, it wasn’t.”

He grins at you over his shoulder as he puts away his laptop. “See, I told you.”

“The film still traumatised my young self, alright? The ghost-”

“No Face,” he supplies.

“Right, yeah, anyway, that guy’s fucking scary when you first watch the film. The way he follows Chihiro and won’t leave her alone?” You shudder and shake your head.

Jungkook’s still grinning when he fills up his paper cup with wine, gesturing for you to hand him yours. 

“Cheers.” 

Jungkook clinks his paper cup with yours, and your shoulder shakes with laughter as you drink, eyes locked with his. You’re first to break, your hand quickly coming up to your mouth to stop any of the wine from spilling.

“You’re so stupid,” you tell him when you’ve managed not to make a mess of the sheets, coughing a bit. Jungkook laughs. 

You place your half-empty paper cup on the nightstand and lie down, tired from the day and alcohol. You’re tipsy, for sure. Jungkook follows you, throwing the blanket over you. You’re quick to snuggle into it. Your faces are close, inches apart. One of you should back away, allow for more space, but neither of you even think of it. You just lie in the quiet together.

The warm yellow glow from the lamp on the nightstand spills beautifully down Jungkook’s face, softening his features to butter. It accentuates the gentle slope of his nose, contrasts the moles imprinted on his skin, and brings out his starry doe eyes, eyes filled with so much gentleness and goodness you think your heart is going to burst if you looked into them too long.

Gazing at him, you can’t help but smile at the thought that all of this wouldn’t have happened if Sooyoung hadn’t convinced you. You would have never gotten to know Jungkook the way you do now, seen all of his sides—the awkward and shy one, the brave and protective one, the caring and kind one—, and realised he’s one of the best people you’ve ever met.

You thank Sooyoung.

“Hey, Y/N?”

He speaks quietly, in a whisper. You match his volume.

“Yeah?”

Jungkook doesn’t avert his eyes when he speaks, “Are we friends?”

You blink a handful of times, taking a moment to think about his question. A smile curls on your lips when you come up with the answer, “Almost.”

He raises a brow. “Almost?”

“Yes, almost.”

Jungkook stares at you before chuckling, shaking his head. “I’ve never gone on a roadtrip with any of my friends, or even shared the same bed with them. Not even Joon, and he’s my best friend. And now you tell me we’re just almost friends?”

Your smile widens into a grin. His eyes are digging into your face. You don’t meet his gaze. “Looks like you’re not that close with your friends then.”

He lets your words settle into the air, only expressing his disapproval with a click of his tongue and a scrunch of his nose.

“But it’s weird, isn’t it?” you begin quietly, still not looking at Jungkook. “It’s weird to think about how quickly we’ve grown close. This trip almost didn’t happen, you know?”

He looks at you.

“When Soo suggested you’d come, I wasn’t… thrilled.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry,” you chuckle. “But can you blame me for being hesitant to be stuck in a car with a stranger? I didn’t want it to be awkward.” You turn your head to the side, eyes finding his. “And I wasn’t wrong. Remember when-”

“Yes, I remember,” Jungkook quickly interrupts. “I remember how awkward it was-”

“You mean how awkward you were,” you correct and earn yourself an eye roll from him. “What? Are you denying it?”

“I’m not,” he mutters, scrunching his nose. “But it’s not like you tried to make it less awkward.”

“Well, sorry, I didn’t say anything when you put the snacks in the back, or when you silently watched-” 

“I get it, Y/N,” Jungkook interjects, a dramatic pout forming on his lips. It takes you everything not to pinch his cheek. 

“You know, I was so sure I was going to regret it, you know?”

“Agreeing to let me come?”

“Yeah, I mean you and I were strangers before this. Even with Soo and Joon around, I wasn’t sure it wasn’t gonna be… weird.”

“But you don’t regret it, do you?”

You think about the last couple of days, think about all of the experiences you’ve made, how you’ve won a new friend, and you can’t contain the smile that slips onto your lips, stretching from one cheek to the other. The answer is obvious.

“No, I don’t.”

And even though you aren’t looking at each other, gazes tracing the ceiling together, you know there is a smile on the other’s lips. Silence hits you, comfortable silence. 

“Hey, Y/N?” 

You hum in response, growing too tired to speak, eyes starting to fall shut. You think Jungkook notices, think that’s why he’s pausing, to contemplate whether or not to continue. But you’re wrong. He doesn’t pause because he picked up on your exhaustion, his mind racing far too fast for him to. He pauses because he doesn’t know if he should bring it up in the first place, let the words slip that have been on his tongue forever now. 

Jungkook takes a deep breath. “But we aren’t strangers, are we?”

He speaks quietly, and you don’t think you would have heard him if you weren’t lying in bed together, side by side. You want to turn your head, but for some reason, your neck feels oddly stiff. Your brows knit together.

“What… do you mean?”

And then there’s another round of silence. 

It allows your mind to ponder over his words, dissect them into their own pieces, pull them apart, syllable for syllable, figure out the meaning of them separately and then together, and before you can come to any kind of conclusion, Jungkook speaks again,

“Remember when you asked me about my biggest regret and I wouldn’t tell you?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Do you still wanna know?”

You should probably ask him where this was going, tell him he’s jumping from one thing to another, but-

“Yeah.”

Jungkook shifts. There’s a feeling growing in your gut. It’s not bad, at least you don’t think. It’s just there, alerting you.

“There was this girl,” he starts, and you listen closely. “I met her during a party two summers ago. She bumped into me. Almost spilled her drink all over me. We talked the entire night, even played a round of beer pong even though neither of us like beer.”

Your heart begins thumping in your chest, heavy and hard. The realisation hits you so fast you can’t even look away. It whips you right across the cheek. 

Jungkook remembers.

“Somehow, we ended up at my place, and,” something like a smile finds his lips, “well, one thing led to another. The next morning though,” you know what he’ll say, “I woke up alone.”

You close your eyes and swallow.

“So my biggest regret is probably never asking for her number,” he whispers, his words breathed into the air, floating around in the room, lifted by the warm light, presented right in front of your eyes. You don’t want to look at them, heat crawling up your neck at their sight. He doesn’t know what he’s saying, you tell yourself. It’s the exhaustion and alcohol. That must be it.

“Or you know, not telling her I’d love to get to know her more and she can stay for breakfast if she wants,” he says. “I would have loved it to wake up next to her.”

You are his biggest regret?

It makes no sense. It seems absurd to you. He must be joking, you tell yourself. There’s no way any of this is real, that he didn’t get upset at your disappearance but simply disappointed and sad, that the night you shared together left as much of an impression on him as it did on you. 

“I can’t believe you remember,” you say, voice thin and weak. 

“Of course, I did.”

He turns to you then, and instantly, your heart stops in your chest. You wait, count the seconds, anticipating his words. You don’t know what you’re expecting him to say, but it’s not this,

“I thought you were really cute.”

His confession knocks the air right out of your lungs, all of it escaping you in one go. If you had it in you, you’d turn to him and meet his eyes. But your gaze remains stuck on the ceiling.

He’s drunk, you repeat to yourself. The words are laced with alcohol, for sure. His mind is clouded with drunken foolishness. It must be.

“Jungkook-”

The rest of your sentence never leaves your lips, a terrible knot in your throat. Words are clumsy on your tongue, your mind jumbled with thoughts you can’t even begin to dissect. It’s terrible, the minute of silence feeling so full and empty at the same time. You learn just how loud being silent can be, how deafening, how heavy.

“I’m serious.” 

But still, you can’t respond, your mouth opening and closing in a desperate manner to get something to spill out. Nothing comes out though. You can’t quite find the words, but you think he knows. You think he knows you want to apologise for leaving the morning so abruptly, think he knows you haven’t forgotten either, think he knows you would have stayed if he had just asked you to.

The click of the lamp snaps you out of your thoughts, suddenly plunged into darkness. Jungkook lies back down, pulling the covers over you. It marks the end of your conversation. 

Your mouth presses into a line and your eyes flutter shut because you know very well you aren’t going to find your voice until tomorrow morning. You curse yourself and your inability to speak. It’s stupid. You know very well how much courage it must have taken him to tell you all of this, and here you are, lying in silence and-

Your train of thought is stopped when Jungkook grabs your hands underneath the covers and interlaces his fingers with yours. It’s then that you look at him, head twisting to the side, eyes meeting his. And you know, this isn’t the alcohol speaking. It’s him speaking, every word is his.

Jungkook glows, you discover, because, in the darkness, you can see him crystal clear, bright as the stars and the moon combined, outshining everything and anything.

“I still do.” His eyes stare into yours. “I still think you’re really cute.”

And when Jungkook carefully puts his arm around your waist, you know it’s fine you can’t respond right now. You inch closer to him, your bodies practically melting into one. His touch is warm and comforting. It feels right.

You fall asleep.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” you say, scrunching your nose and looking at the McDonalds bag in your lap. “Our last dinner on the roadtrip.”

“For now,” Jungkook adds, putting on your shared roadtrip playlist. He takes the brown bag from you and unpacks it. “Don’t forget, we still have to drive back in a week.”

You take the cheeseburger he hands you. “What happened to my McDonald’s ban?”

Jungkook unwraps his burger and bites into it. “Well, we’re in the middle of nowhere and unless you prefer stale chips, go ahead.”

You’re pouting as you unwrap your cheeseburger. “Whatever.”

He smiles.

You haven’t talked about last night. When you woke up, you thought you would, but you didn’t. You honestly can’t say how, but it’s not awkward. Still, there’s an elephant in the room, or, well, in the car, sitting in the back with you and patiently waiting for one of you to address it. 

“Can’t believe we never thought of eating in the back,” Jungkook mumbles, dipping a fry into the sweet and sour sauce. You’ve arranged a spread on the middle seat, the bag serving as a plate.

“I know, right? It’s so crammed in the front.”

“Well, now we know better,” Jungkook says, and you hum, grabbing a chicken nugget and throwing it into your mouth, wiping your greasy fingers and mouth on the napkin you have in your lap.

“Can’t believe we’re almost there,” you mumble, taking a deep breath, the weight of the journey dawning on you. “We really drove for five days straight, huh?”

“Four,” he corrects. “But yeah, crazy to think about. Didn’t feel all that long though.”

“I thought it would be worse and more exhausting.”

Jungkook locks eyes with you, a smile forming on his lips. “Yeah, it was really fun.”

You smile too. “Yeah, really fun.”

And then you go back to eating, munching on your respective burgers, grabbing a fry or chicken nugget in between bites. By the end your bellies are so full, neither of you want to move, in need of a break. All you manage to do is gather your garbage in the McDonald’s bag before collapsing again.

“What was your favourite part about the trip so far?”

Jungkook turns to you at the question, eyes meeting yours. He frowns. “Probably when we had Chinese food in the park.”

You nod, approving of his choice. “Yeah, that was really great and fun.”

“What about you?”

A smile grows on your lips because you already know your answer. “Your shitty city tour.”

Jungkook levels you with a look, shaking his head. “It wasn’t that shitty.”

You laugh. “It was.”

“Y/N-!”

“Just accept it. It was really bad.” He pouts. You grin. “But it was really fun too.”

“You mean fun for you,” he hisses. “You laughed at me.”

And at his words, you have to laugh again. As much as he tries to act upset, Jungkook has to mirror you, the corners of his lips involuntarily pulling up.

“Sorry.”

“Please, you’re not sorry at all.”

“I’m not,” you admit and grin at him.

Jungkook rolls his eyes and shakes his head. You look at him when he suddenly sits up.

“What?”

“Let’s take a picture!”

You blink at his enthusiasm. “What?”

“We never took any pictures.” He pulls out his phone. “Let’s take some now.”

He pats the seat next to him and you’re quick to move in, knees knocking against his. You adjust your hair to your liking, Jungkook patiently waiting for you to finish, his phone already up in the air and ready to go.

“Alright?”

You nod, giving a small smile and holding up a peace sign as Jungkook clicks on the shutter. He mimics you, his smile toothier than yours though. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” you say and he stops, turning his gaze to you. “The way we’re sitting-” You click to view the pictures. “Look, it’s kinda awkward.”

Jungkook hums, agreeing with you. “How about this?”

You stiffen when he puts an arm around you and pulls you even closer to him. But you relax soon after, a smile forming on your lips.

“This good?” he asks you, loosening his hold on you, clearly ready to back off again, but you’re quick to nod. In fact, you inch a bit closer to him, your face right next to his as you prepare for the new set of pictures.

Your faces quickly morph from toothy smiles to tongues sticking out and your features contorting in odd ways. The pictures go from casual to silly in a matter of seconds. In the last couple ones, you’re squishing each other’s cheeks, and by the end, you’re laughing.

“Oh, this one’s cute,” Jungkook says and shows you his phone. You lean over to look. It’s one of the first ones when you were still trying. You’re smiling into the camera, your hand thrown up in a peace sign. Jungkook has his arm around you, a smile on his own lips, but instead of staring into the camera like you, his eyes are on you.

You pause, the look on his face surprising you. It’s so soft and gentle. It’s like he’s looking at something very dear to him, something precious, something he loves. But he’s simply staring at you.

“Yeah… it’s cute,” you mumble, voice much quieter now. And when you lift your eyes and meet his gaze, your voice disappears into thin air. Because Jungkook’s right there, in front of you, his face inches away from yours.

This is it. You know. If you were in a romcom, you’d kiss. You’d share your epic first kiss, sitting in the back of your shared car after four days of driving across the country, four days of getting to know each other, four days of sharing the same bed. This is the moment. The moment that will define this summer, the moment in which you’ll tell Jungkook all of the things you wanted to say yesterday but didn’t have the courage to. The moment that will bring you and him together.

It’s there, right in front of you, dangling and waiting to be grasped and held tight, seized.

Your eyes darken as they lower to his lips, heart thumping loud and heavy in your ribcage, everything inside you screaming at you to do it, to finally find the bravery you couldn’t muster up yesterday and two years ago when you first ran from him. Your hand grips onto his knee for support, and Jungkook’s here to provide it, his hand gripping yours, encouraging you; the other one finding anchor around your waist, his phone somewhere on the floor, forgotten about.

You feel his breath on your lips. It’s about to happen. You’re mere split seconds away from it when the sound of your phone ringing cuts through the air.

It’s gone.

The moment dissipates into thin air right in front of your eyes, leaving behind a cloud of awkwardness.

You break apart, the distance between you feels endless. Your heart sinks in your chest, the feeling of Jungkook’s touch imprinted on your skin, still hot and burning, questions hanging in the air.

You’re scrambling to the front when you pick up the call, pressing your phone to your ear to the point your knuckles turn white. And even though there’s a part of you that’s glad that you were interrupted because you don’t know what would have happened after the kiss, there’s another part of you that’s cursing yourself for switching your phone from silent to loud.

“Yes, hi,” you sputter, clearing your throat and stumbling into the passenger seat.

“Hey, Y/N!” Sooyoung greets you, and you don’t look in Jungkook’s direction when he gets into the driver’s seat, his phone back in his pocket. He lowers the music. “Where are you guys?”

You frown. “Uh, we-we are having dinner.”

There’s a pause, and you hate the silence because it makes you so acutely aware of the silence between Jungkook and you.

“Are you alright? You sound weird.”

“Weird?” you say with an exaggerated chuckle. “What? No, of course, I’m alright.”

Sooyoung hums on the other side, sounding more than less convinced. “Well, if you say so.”

“I’m alright. It’s alright,” you repeat, and you don’t know if that’s for her, you, or Jungkook. “Anyway, why, uh, are you calling me?”

“Oh, right-” Sooyoung cuts herself short and you think you can hear someone talk to her. You frown, the voice sounding a lot like Taehyung, but just before you can ask, she returns. “Uh, can you tell me when you’ll be at the hotel?”

“Why do you wanna know when we’re at the hotel?” you ask, your frown deepening. You glance over to Jungkook. He has the same look on his face.

“Just because.”

Now it’s Sooyoung who sounds weird.

It takes you a moment to get it, your frown slowly disappearing at the realisation. 

“Soo, are you at the hotel?”

Jungkook snaps his head to you, and you turn on speaker phone. There are hisses and curses from the other side until-

“Surprise!”

You wince, the onslaught of voices blowing out your speakers. Jungkook and you look at each other.

“Yeah, hi, we’re at the hotel,” Taehyung says, confirming your previous assumption. The smile’s evident on his lips. “So hurry the fuck up, you two lovebirds, and get your asses here.”

“Lovebirds?” Jungkook sputters, exasperated and embarrassed at the same time. “We are no- what are you talking about, Tae?”

You can practically see Taehyung roll his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, just-”

He’s cut off by Seokjin. “Hey guys, how are you?”

“Uh, good,” you answer for the two of you, confused and struggling to wrap your brain around this. You’re not catching up really. “H-how are you guys all at the hotel? How did you get there? And who’s at-”

“Everybody. Everyone’s here, grandmas. How are we at the hotel before you when you had like a two-day head start?”

The insults continue, your friends berating you for taking so long. Namjoon puts an end to it, taking the phone and telling you to just get here as fast as possible, promising to explain everything once you’re at the hotel. 

When you hang up, you feel tired. Your eyes lock with Jungkook’s.

“Ready?”

Somehow, there’s no awkwardness anymore. You’re not sure how that’s possible, if it’s the fact that your friends are all waiting for you at the hotel that distracts your minds enough, or the fact that it can’t ever be awkward between you anymore because there’s trust and comfort. Either way, you’re glad.

“Sure, yeah.”

You sound less than ready, and Jungkook smiles before slotting the keys into the ignition.

“We’ll be fine.”

You hope he’s right.

It turns out that once Sooyoung and Namjoon got back in town, Hoseok was quick to propose to drive after you guys. After all, he’s just finished all of his exams and is down for a little adventure. Jimin joined in next as the second driver. And with Jimin in on it, Sana and Yeji jumped on board too. Soon enough your gigantic friend group was packing up their things for a last-minute summer roadtrip, Nine people crammed in three cars. With so many people, the costs were down to nothing, hotels and food costing a penny, and the great number of drivers allowed them to go for hours on end without breaks.

And by the end, you feel dumb for not suspecting anything earlier. You should have because Sooyoung’s daily calls stopped all of a sudden. But you were too preoccupied to notice.

“I’m really so sorry,” Sooyoung tells you once you’re in your room, and you sit down on one of the two beds.

“It’s fine, Soo,” you say, patting her hand. “It was actually fun with Jungkook.”

“Yeah?” She’s studying your face for any hints of deception. “You’re not just saying that? You can be honest now. We’re not on the phone anymore.”

“Well,” you sigh, “as much as I hate to admit it, but you were right. He really is nice. So no, I’m not just saying that.”

And at that, Sooyoung lights up. “Told you so!”

You give her hand one more squeeze before lying down, sinking into the mattress. She follows you.

“Oh, did he recognise you, by the way? I’ve been meaning to ask.”

You keep your gaze trained on the ceiling as you contemplate what to tell her. You don’t think you want to get into it all, not now at least when so much is still not resolved, when you don’t know yourself what’s going on between Jungkook and you.

“No.”

“Oh.” Sooyoung sounds disappointed, you think. “Well, glad I was right again.”

You hum.

Your conversation quickly moves on to her romantic getaway with Namjoon because she hasn’t gotten much of a chance to tell you about it, the fact she was stuck in another town taking precedence.

“Anyway, I think I’m gonna wash up,” Sooyoung tells you and slaps your knee before getting up. It’s only then that you see her suitcase in the corner of the room. You straighten up.

“Wait, are we sharing a room?”

She looks at you from her crouched position, pyjamas in her hands. Her brows knit together. “Who else do you think you’d be sharing a room with?” Her lips quirk up into a smirk when you don’t respond. “Kook?”

You laugh, but it sounds off. “What? No! I-I thought you were sharing a room with Joon.”

She shakes her head and gets up, her toiletry bag and pyjamas in her hands. “No, you’re stuck with me, Y/N. Kook’s with Joon.”

You nod and barely register Sooyoung walking into the ensuite bathroom, one thought occupying your mind.

You won’t be alone with Jungkook anymore.

[jeon jungkook - 00:32] : hey are you still up?

[you - 00:32] : yeah whats up?

You watch as the three grey dots appear and disappear for a few seconds, and you’re about to ask him to spit it out when-

[jeon jungkook - 00:32] : you wanna meet up in the car?

You’ve typed out the answer and hit send faster than you can blink.

[you - 00:32] : be right there

You don’t even check if Sooyoung’s actually sleeping or not when you climb out of bed and leave, your phone and the keycard to the room are the only things with you. And even though it’s summer, it is a lot chillier at night. You shiver once you’re outside, but you push through, marching across the empty parking lot.

When you get in, Jungkook’s already sitting in the passenger seat.

“Nice pyjamas,” he tells you with a smile, and you roll your eyes. He’s still in his clothes from before.

“Thanks,” you say, shutting the door, shivering when the AC hits you.

“Are you cold, Y/N?” Jungkook asks you, disbelief on his face, and you grumble.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m a wuss that gets scared by everything and is also cold sensitive.”

“You’re not cold-sensitive, Y/N. You’re slight temperature changes-”

“Is that why you texted me?” you interrupt.

Jungkook sits back and shakes his head. “Obviously not.” 

He pauses and shuts off the AC before taking off the flannel he’s wearing. “Here.” He holds it out to you, and you can’t meet his eyes when you accept it. It’s a bit big on you. It brings instant warmth. You smell him on it.

“How is it with Soo?”

“Fine,” you say. “How’s it with-”

“Fine too.”

Neither of you say anything for a moment. “Is it just me-”

“-but it’s weird to share a room with other people, right?” you finish his sentence, and he’s quick to agree with you. 

“Yeah, it does feel… weird.”

There’s another pause.

Jungkook claps his hands together. “Alright, let’s do this.”

You frown. “Do what?”

But instead of elaborating, he just gets out, gesturing for you to follow him. Left with no other choice, you do, wrapping his flannel tighter around your body when a breeze hits you.

“What do you-”

You’re cut off by the sound of ‘Isn’t She Lovely’ by Stevie Wonder playing through Jungkook’s phone. He gives you a smile when you look at him, walking over to you and grabbing your phone and the keycard out of your hand to put it on the ground, next to his own phone.

“What are we-”

Once again, you don’t finish your question, Jungkook taking your hands into his.

“We’re dancing,” he tells you with a grin, and before you can even protest, he spins you around.

“Jungkook,” you say when you’re facing him again, cheeks ablaze. “I can’t dance.”

“Just go with it,” he says, but when he sees the knit between your brows, he adds, “Trust me.”

And with that, you can’t help but let him lead you, his hands guiding your every move as you dance in the empty parking lot, spinning like you’ve got a clue of what you’re doing.

“See, you can dance,” Jungkook whispers when you’re back in his arms. “You’re great at this.”

You shake your head at his compliment, disagreeing, but it’s a nice thing to hear. 

And so you continue, clumsily and slowly dancing around, feet shaky and hesitant as you move. Stars are dotting the night sky, shining down on you, the moon high up there, smiling, the lonely street lamp you’re under illuminating you like a spotlight, the flannel billowing out around you with every spin you do. At this moment, as you hold Jungkook’s hands, you’re convinced it’s just you and him in this world. 

And right at this moment, you can feel it—the summer magic in the air, the endlessness of tonight, the potential and possibilities all around you, the looming question of where is this going?. It’s all right here, surrounding you, and for some reason, it’s not scary.

It’s not scary when the air is warm and fuzzy and the moon and stars are above you, lighting up the sky, and summer is puncturing every minute that passes by. It’s not scary when you’re holding Jungkook’s hands and gazing into his eyes. 

By the end of the song, you’re out of breath, panting. But you’re smiling too. And when it plays again, neither of you let go of one another. Instead, you start to sway. You rest your head on Jungkook’s chest, eyes closing as you listen, his heart beating under your ear. His arms sneak around your middle. He holds you close.

You never thought you could feel at peace and terrified at the same time, never thought you could feel like this when the realisation sinks in with you.

You’re falling- no, tripping for Jungkook, stumbling over your own two feet and plunging head first into darkness, the unknown.

The fall is inevitable, you realise. It’s been happening for the past two years; starting on the first night you spend together and continuing with every quick glance you caught of him when you walked across campus, fuelled by the stories Sooyoung would relay to you every week, the jokes she’d tell you he made that day, and now propelled faster by this trip, by the hours locked in the car together, the nights slept in the same bed, sharing the same blanket, hearts beating side by side, closer than ever.

There’s no stopping this, and you don’t know if you would want to even if you could.

You’re not sure what it is, if it’s the summer magic floating in the air, but falling in love, giving your heart to someone, pulling it out of your chest, loosening it from its roots in between your ribs, gift-wrapping it and tying a bow around it, to hand it over to Jungkook for safekeeping, for it to be his and his only, seems less daunting than ever. In fact, it seems right, the only possible thing you could be doing now, a natural progression.

And even though you haven’t landed yet, haven’t gotten to the end of your fall, you know it will be fine. You know it will be soft and gentle. You know there will be someone to catch you. Putting your heart into Jungkook’s hands, as terrifying as it is, is the natural thing to do. You shouldn’t be so willing to give a piece away from you, to hand it over so easily, should want to run away in panic, but for some reason, you’ve never wanted to do anything more.

“We’ve done it all,” Jungkook whispers into your ear during the harmonica solo, and you stop swaying.

“What do you mean?” you ask, and you can hear him smile.

“You said this isn’t a romcom in which we dance under the stars, go on coffee shop dates, and sneak out to meet up.” You peel your eyes open and look at him. He’s grinning at you. “We did it all.”

“Jungkook-”

“Can I tell you a secret?” he whispers and gazes deeply into your eyes, his features soft and glowing under the streetlight. He’s never been more beautiful. You can feel your heart in your ears, every beat. You think you know the secret.

You nod.

“I love you.”

And even though you already knew it, your lips pull up into the biggest grin, fireworks exploding in your stomach, heart swelling in your chest to the point of eruption.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you ask him, voice shaky with excitement, and lean impossibly closer, hands gripping his shirt because you need something to hold onto.

“Please,” Jungkook practically pleads, and you don’t hesitate a second to say it, letting the three words escape you that have been sitting inside you for ages now.

“I love you too.”

And then, you press your lips to Jungkook’s, going up on your toes to reach him, eyes fluttering shut, finally doing what you should have done a long time ago. He holds your middle, his nose bumping yours as he kisses you back, firmly. Even though this isn’t your first kiss, it does feel like it—sparks ricocheting through your entire body, time freezing to a stop, nothing mattering more than him right now. Jungkook is every star and every moon in this world. He is the summer and the autumn and the winter and the spring. He is everything. 

The kiss ends far too soon. You’re already yearning for his lips again, for him.

“You think your mother is gonna kill me if she finds out I kissed her daughter?” 

You smack his shoulder, or, well, you try because you’re breathless and can’t muster up much. It’s a hit, and barely qualifies as that. It’s an attempt. It’s enough to make him smile though.

“Jungkook,” you say, “I swear to God, if you mention my mother again after kissing me, you’re never going to kiss me-”

He cuts you off, pressing his lips to yours one more time, cradling your cheeks. You allow it, leaning into it and kissing him back, grip tightening around his shirt. It feels too right to stop. You already know, you won’t ever get enough of the kisses, won’t ever stop kissing Jungkook, for even a second.

And when you part this time, you rest your forehead to his, needing the support, and there’s no doubt in your mind, Jungkook will always be there to provide it. He’ll always be there to be your rock, your person to lean onto, you can count on.

“Oh,” he says, digging through his pocket, and you watch as he pulls out a set of keys. They shine under the streetlamp, bright and dazzling. He takes your hand and wraps your fingers around them, the jagged edges lightly digging into your skin.

“You forgot these at my place.”

Your eyes grow big, mouth dropping wide open.

“Jungkook-” you begin but don’t finish, sputtering. You shake your head, a smile on your lips. “You know these would have been useful two years ago, right? I had to walk to Sooyoung to get the spare key from her.”

He grins at you and wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Well, better late than never, right?”

You meet his gaze and smile. He doesn’t say it, but you know. “Right, better late than never.”

Jungkook and you are the last ones to arrive for breakfast, strolling up to the table together, enough space between you not to raise any suspicion, not wanting to reveal the news to your friends just yet. It’s best not to drop this first thing in the morning, you decided together. Luckily for you, there are exactly two empty seats next to each other. 

You’ve just come back from the buffet (waffles for you and pancakes for Jungkook) when Sooyoung looks at you.

“Did you go out last night?”

You freeze. “What?”

“I think I heard you sneaking out in the middle of the night,” she says, taking a sip from her coffee.

“Oh.”

You don’t know what else to say. It’s all you can muster up.

“Well,” you refrain from looking at Jungkook, “no, I, uh, didn’t.”

“Huh.” She blinks. “I could swear I heard the door opening at night-”

“Wait, Yoongs, didn’t you say you saw Y/N and Kook last night in the parking lot?” Hoseok brings up, and you stiffen in your seat, fingers curling around the armrests. Jungkook sucks in a sharp breath, his knee jerking uncontrollably. Everyone around the table quiets and looks at you two. Probably not the best idea to sit next to each other.

“Y/N?” Sooyoung says, her eyes as big as saucers. Namjoon chokes on his drink next to her.

Sana gasps, clamming her hand in front of her mouth. “Shut up, are you guys-”

“No, what? Don’t be ridiculous!” Jimin denies, shaking his head. “There’s no way-” He pauses when he sees the look on Jungkook’s and your face. “Wait…”

“Did you really see-?” Taehyung turns to Yoongi, sitting on the edge of his seat, and the older takes a sip from his orange juice, keeping everyone waiting, the suspense rising with every moment of silence.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Oh my god,” Yeji mumbles under her breath before turning to Jungkook and you, her mouth slowly splitting into a gigantic grin. “Are you guys-?”

You share a look. “Uh, I, well-”

“Didn’t you kiss too?” Hoseok blurts out, speaking without thinking. “That’s what you said, right, Yoongs?”

“You kissed?” Taehyung sputters before beginning to slow clap, and Namjoon’s quick to tell him to stop it.

“Kissed and slow danced,” Yoongi confirms, clearly believing Jungkook and you have been a thing for a while now, failing to realise that he’s revealing your relationship to everyone on your very first day as a couple. “Or was that not you?”

Jungkook and you share another look. Even though this isn’t the way you imagined telling your friends, you don’t mind. Because what difference does it make?

“No, that was us,” you say.

“You didn’t see wrong,” Jungkook confirms with a nod.

And at your confession, your friends gasp before erupting into hollers and cheers. None of them care that guests are shooting them dirty looks. They’re far too happy for Jungkook and you to care. You love them so much, as embarrassing as this is. The support is heartwarming.

“Congrats to you guys!” Namjoon grins, Sooyoung next to him is far too shocked to say anything.

“Yeah, fuck, I’m so happy for you two!” Yeji coos.

“A toast from the newly wed couple please!” Seokjin gestures at you to stand up, but neither of you make a single move.

“We’re not married!” you say, and Jungkook thanks Sana when she slaps Seokjin’s shoulder.

And since the two of you aren’t really toast-making people, Jungkook saves you by lifting his glass of water into the air like it’s an expensive flute of champagne. 

“Cheers!”

You’re first to raise your glass too, clinking it with his. Your friends are quick to follow suit. 

Jungkook looks over to you.

To us.

You grin.

Sooyoung gives you a tight hug, whispering into your ear just how happy she is for you and that she’ll pack and switch rooms. You thank her; for everything, you say, truly everything. She shakes her head.

And when Jungkook and you look at each other again, you know you’ll always get half of his breakfast and he’ll always get half of your breakfast, and he’ll always hold your hand at every rest stop and gas station and every time you need it, and you’ll always buy him a neck pillow when his neck acts up again and hold a water bottle to his lips when he’s thirsty and driving. You know you’ll never have to fight over who sleeps on the couch anymore, but you’ll always have to fight over who gets to pay.

You smile, and it widens when Jungkook transfers half of his pancakes onto your plate. You do the same.

“Good morning,” Jungkook smiles when he sees you stir and peel your eyes open, putting his phone aside to lie back down with you, pulling the covers over the two of you. Your eyelids are still heavy with sleep. Keeping them open is hard.

“Morning.”

Your mood doesn’t drop until you think of today’s agenda and remember, you’re driving back. You groan. 

“I don’t wanna go,” you say, a pout growing on your lips, and Jungkook smiles, pulling you closer to him.

“Neither do I,” he tells you. “But we have to.”

You sigh. “I can’t believe it. How has it been a week?”

“Well, time flies when you’re having fun.”

You bury your face into his neck and pull the covers tighter around you, your body pressed up against his.

“And when it’s summer.”

Jungkook grins. “Yeah, and when it’s summer.”

“And when I’m with you,” you mumble and look at him with a smile. Jungkook cups your cheek and presses his lips to yours. And even though the kiss lasts mere seconds, you feel the same sparks ricochet through your body like when you first kissed him. He’s still every star and moon in this world, still summer, autumn, winter, and spring. He’s still everything. And you know, that will never change.

“And when I’m with you too.”

→ links don’t work, but i’d love to hear your thoughts/feedback! thanks for reading !!

[sugurus-slxt]

Haikyuu Boys Walking In On You Dancing (smexy edition)

Lineup: Tsukishima Kei, Azumane Asahi, Kozume Kenma, Yamamoto Taketora and Oikawa Tōru.

Warning: cursing, one mention of alcohol, and suggestive smexy content

A/Note: So yes two in a day, I was extra motivated y’all don’t question it. It’s probably because it’s been so long. The songs are just what I like to listen to, m sorry.

Tsukishima Kei

♬♩♪♩ Sean Paul – She Doesn’t Mind ♩♪♩♬

Tsukishima was looking for his bluetooth headphones everywhere because he was positive he had left them on the couch, in the living room. However, they seemed to have grown legs and walked elsewhere, he joked to himself. “Y/N! Shorty! Have you seen my headphones?” he called loudly but no response. He walked through the house shouting your name but you were nowhere to be found. Tsukishima glanced at the clock on the wall; it read 4:30PM. He considered maybe you had been outside, possibly reading a book which you often did.

He was right; there you were blanket laid on the grass with the long-forgotten book and you standing up dancing with his headphones. You hadn’t seen him yet and he had considered stopping you but he just couldn’t. Kei stood at the door admiring the way your hips rolled and body moved. He wondered what you were listening to make you dance this way, so beautifully, so erotically. Tsukishima wasn’t much of a dancer but he’d love to be body to body with you right now. He had clearly gotten a bit too excited and the tent in his pants was proof. His cheeks burned red in embarrassment, you still dancing, unaware of his presence.

He quietly crept up behind you gently clasping his hands around your waist. You jumped a bit, immediately lowering the headphones. “I was looking for those you know,” he whispered lowly in your ear. “I- I’m sorry you can have them back now,” you apolgise trying to turn around. He held your body still, pressing his closer to yours. Then you felt it, the hardness pressed against your back, “But I want something else now. Hmmmm. Care to help me with it shortcake?” he asked his hands finding his way below your shirt, caressing your chest and brushing over your nipples. “K- Kei we’re outside. S-someone could see,” you tried reasoning.

“Really… Hmm you didn’t seem to mind a few seconds ago. So unless you want the neighbors to get a perfect view of your body being wrecked which I’m sure they wouldn’t mind get your ass on the bed upstairs right now,” he said biting your ear, eliciting a whimper from you. “I- y-yes sir,” you reply, pulling yourself from his grasp to go upstairs, he followed closely behind.

Azumane Asahi

♬♩♪♩ Bailando – Enrique Iglesias ♩♪♩♬

Asahi was busy at work in his office; with a tight deadline and 3 designs to perfect every waking hour was spent working. But he’s been staring at the blank page for the past 20 minutes with no breakthrough and it’s not because he couldn’t come up with anything, he just couldn’t concentrate. Why? Because right now you were just outside his door in the living room blasting music. It’s not like you meant to disturb him or had forgotten either, he just didn’t tell you.

He knows you’d insist on staying up to ungodly hours with him as he finished his designs so he told you he’d be in bed shortly, he just had some papers to sign. He hoped you would go to sleep but nope. Asahi wanted to leave you to your music he truly did, he knew you were happiest when you’re dancing and enjoying yourself but he wanted to enjoy it with you. The faster he finished the faster he could come and be with you, so he decided to tell you.

“Hey-,” the words died in his throat as his eyes landed on you. Asahi considered retreating to his office right now but he couldn’t move. You hadn’t heard him and he was kind of glad you didn’t. Your hips swayed to the beat, moving in just the right way, his eyes didn’t leave you. Your clothes hugged your body just right even if they were just sleepwear. Was that really what you wore to sleep he thought? If he had noticed all this sooner he was sure your nights would end a much different way. Asahi’s face flushed red; he cursed himself for thinking such inappropriate thoughts.

Your hands trailed up your body that was moving to the music as you finally turned to see him. “Oh! Hey, honey. I didn’t see you there,” you paused the music and walked up to him. “I- I wanted you to turn down the music. I- mean if that’s alright,” he said scratching his neck. “Yeah yeah. I’m sorry honey. Lemme do that and you can get back to your work,” you pulled his hand to your lips placing a kiss on them, and walking back to the speaker. “W-wait could you umm maybe help me with something. It's fine if you can’t,” he waved his hands in front of him. You look down to find a very turned-on Asahi and chuckled, “Mmmm Of course honey. Maybe next time you can join me dancing. I didn’t know you liked it so much.” Asahi hid his face in his hands as he followed you to the bedroom.

Kenma Kozume

♬♩♪♩ LUV – Tory Lanez ♩♪♩♬

Kenma was busy working a TikTok Livestream because his followers and subscribers have been bombarding his inbox with messages to get one. He was currently in the process of making sure everything was in order as people started popping in and saying hi. You were in the bedroom trying to strike up some inspiration but instead, you got so caught up in the music. Meanwhile, Kenma was telling them about his day but the chat was blowing up with questions so he had skipped over to answer them.

About an hour had passed and he was getting a bit hungry so he decided to headed over to the kitchen, phone in hand to get some apple pie from the fridge. Everyone started commenting typical Kodzuken, a couple people suggested that he ask you if you wanted any. His fan base was very familiar with your presence and often asked for ideas where he would interact with you. The community loved seeing the softer side of Kenma that came out when you were around. His phone was turned to face you so everyone could see you when he entered.

Not even five seconds after he opened the door he closed it. “Hey guys, ummm I need to go. I’ll come back later. Kodzuken out,” he quickly ended the stream and turned off his phone. “Hey, baby. Are you ok?” you peeked out from the door one side of your bluetooth earbuds still in. His face was tinted pink as he pushed you into the room, “I- Kitten … umm my fan base just saw… they … well how you were dancing and I-,” you stopped him pulling him to lay his head on your lap. “I’m sorry baby, but it’s nothing special. Was I bad?” You ask while stroking his hair but he sat straight up. “No! I mean no, you weren’t bad. It was just,” he played with his fingers, “It was just really seductive and it's that’s not really for my fan base to see. “

“Oh? Then who is it for then? Hmmm,” you asked in a teasing manner. He was embarrassed but still confidently answered, “For me ok. It’s for me now stop teasing me ok,” he pouted turning away from you. You giggled, “I’m sorry but maybe you want me to continue. For you alone that is?” He thought about it but then his stomach growled, “Ok I do but maybe eat some apple pie with me first?” You nodded and you both headed to the kitchen but don’t think he forgot about your suggestion.

Yamamoto Taketora

♬♩♪♩ Fast Wine – Machel Montano ♩♪♩♬

Today had gone by pretty slow, and you spent it watching movies and just spending time with Yamamoto. But now it was a bit later and you were feeling some creative juices flowing so you decided to put that to use you grabbed your stuff and set it up at the kitchen counter. He decided to up Kenma’s offer to play some games. About two hours had gone by and your shoulder was getting pretty sore. The playlist was pretty upbeat and just as you had gotten up a dance-worthy song had begun to play. You thought maybe it’d be a good warm-up.

You were swaying your body to the beat and getting in the rhythm. Your hips moved freely as you dragged your hand over your body and fit your dancing to the nature of the song. What you didn't know, is as soon as you started to dance Taketora was coming to get some snacks and check up on you. But his plans changed when he saw you dancing, he froze. If he went back now he’d definitely have to take a cold shower and he saw no difference if he stayed. So he decided to enjoy it for a bit. His cheeks were lightly dusted pink and the situation in his pants was only getting harder.

He felt weird just standing there, kind of like he was being a creep so he decided to quickly run to the kitchen and run back as the song came to a close. “H-hey baby. Just getting a snack and heading back,” he said hurriedly. “Oh ok. Did you enjoy the view?” you quirked your eyebrow smirking at him. “W-what? I didn’t see anything just you baby always se- I mean beautiful as ever,” he turned away from you and opened the fridge. You slowly walk up behind him, and start climbing your fingers up his arms, “Really nothing? I guess that’s too bad, I wanted to know what you thought. Guess I just have to assume it was terrible.”

“Wait! Baby your dancing is really amazing and sexy! How could you say it’s bad!” he shouted covering his face in realisation of what he just said. You burst out in a fit of laughter, it was so easy to get him to admit things, “Babe I’m sorry but I’m glad you like it. I didn’t know how much you saw I only caught you down to the end. But I’m glad you like it I but I do see that your little friend down there liked it much more.” You pointed down to his crotch which he covered while flushing bright red. “I’m sorry I- umm I’ll take care of it,” he apologised turning to leave. “How about we both have a shower and I can fix it for you hmm,” you held his hand and whispered in his ear. “Y-yes p-please. Thank you,” he looked down blushing as you led him to the bathroom.

Oikawa Tōru

♬♩♪♩ Hips Don’t Lie ��� Shakira ♩♪♩♬

Oikawa was gone for practice and you decided it’d be fun to catch up with your friends because it had been a while. You were on a video call and you guys had started talking about music and gotten into a bit of details about dancing. So now you and all your friends were showing their wining and grinding skills. This was a rather normal occurrence because in all honestly things always got wild between you guys. Put the three of you in a club and all eyes would be on you in no time. It was always a surprise how a couple shots could go such a long way.

You were going off to this song, all the seductive movements, hands dragging over the dips of your body and your hips moving at just the right tempo. Tōru had forgotten his water bottle and came back only to find you dancing. Turned on was an understatement but his time in Brazil gave him experience in more than one way and he was going to use that. This man was not shy but he did wait for the right moment to jump in. He came up behind you resting his hands on your waist, guiding your movement with his. “Hey cutie, moving that beautiful body of yours I see,” he whispered in your ear gently biting it. “You startled me,” you smiled still dancing as you put your arms back against his chest and dragged your body down his, slowly coming back up.

He started placing kisses on your neck, “Mmmm m sorry, fuck I’m not gonna make it to practice baby.” He twirled you away from his body only to bring you back and dip you. He smiled and pulled you up for a kiss. Suddenly, whistles and claps erupted, “Shit- I forgot I was talking to them.” He chuckled as they asked where they can find themselves an Oikawa Tōru. “Well ladies there’s only one and I don’t think Y/N-chan is sharing,” giving them a wink.

“Well, I don’t know you cause a lot more problems than fix them,” you joke as he clutched his chest. “How rude Y/N-chan! Maybe I’ll take your friends up on their offer then,” he crossed his arms and pouted childishly. “You’re not going anywhere, you’re all mine mister, and now what’s that about not going to practice. What did you have in mind?” you asked ending the call with your friends. He didn’t reply, just grabbed you by the waist and placed you on his lap, earning a small squeak from you.

Tell me if you'd like to see anyone else for this? Whether it's MHA or Haikyuu, maybe even Jujutsu Kaisen.

If you liked my writing, maybe you’d like to buy me a coffee?

[ysljoon]

Lunchbox Friends|Park Jimin x Reader

This fanfic is mature so please avoid if you are not 18+. This is also a yandere fic so there are sensitive topics.

Warnings: Drinking/mentions of alcohol, partying, oral sex (f receiving), assault (Jungkook gets punched by Jimin), choking, noncon sex, Jimin is a peeping tom, masturbation, creampie. threats, mentions of a knife

Jimin had been by your side since middle school and you guys have been stuck together by the hip since then and refuse to separate. You don’t ever plan on living your life without him as he has seen you at your highest highs and your lowest lows. He knows you inside and out and you wouldn’t want this any other way. It wasn’t until you guys went to college that you realized your friendship had overstepping boundaries. It wasn’t noticeable to you until your friends pointed it out to you and even then you were still in denial. Why would your best friend suddenly not look out for you? It just didn’t make sense to you and you wanted to push it out of your mind.

Tonight was Hoseok and Jungkook’s party and you felt the whole campus buzzing with excitement. You were never close with Hoseok, but you had a few run-ins with Jungkook since he was friends with Jimin and Jimin had introduced him to you. Jungkook seemed like a sweet person and you had your eye on him for a while so you thought tonight was the perfect night to make your move on him. Once your classes were done you took the shuttle to your shared apartment with Jimin to get your outfit ready for tonight. When you reached the apartment you saw Jimin on the couch just watching TV.

“Y/N! You’re back, come give me a hug I missed you!” You dropped your bag by the couch and collapsed in his lap. He attacked you with tight hugs and kisses on the top of your head. Your friendship is very close and touchy, but this is just what happens after years of friendship so boundaries were very few and far between. You snuggled in his lap and scrolled on your phone to kill time and he continued to watch some drama filled reality show that he constantly loved to watch.

As time passed you realized it was an hour before the party so you tried to get up from Jimin’s lap but he wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you down. “Y/N can’t we just stay here for the night you can have so much fun with just me! We don’t need to go to some dumb party to have fun on a Friday.” Jimin whined, but you pried yourself from his arms and made your way to the bathroom to shower. You stepped in the shower and played music to get you in a hype mood to be in the party mindset. You were singing your heart out and didn’t hear the bathroom door creak open to create a slight opening that allowed your body to be exposed to prying eyes. Those prying eyes belonged to Jimin and you were unsuspecting of the fact.

Jimin ogled your naked body in the shower through the steamy glass panes and it started to make his pants tighten. Jimin started to palm himself while admiring the curves of your ass and breasts. You were in the middle of shampooing your hair, your bottle of body wash fell off the shelf and you bent over to pick it up and that had Jimin groaning from pleasure. He unbuttoned his pants and slid his underwear down enough where he could fist his cock with ease. He filthily spit into his hand and rubbed his dick slowly to not build up to his orgasm too quickly. You started to sway your hips back and forth to the rhythm of the upbeat song in your playlist. This had you looking so sexy in Jimin’s eyes. He wasn’t only getting off on how good your soapy body looked in the shower, but also the thrill of knowing he’s jerking off to his best friend who doesn't know how much he wants to ruin her right on the spot. Jimin hurriedly came to his orgasm when he realized you were almost done with your shower and hurried to his room when he stroked out his high.

You finished getting ready and slipped on a tight dress. You slipped on your shoes and waited for Jimin on the couch. After 10 minutes of impatience you knocked on his door and he swung it open after the second knock. “It really surprises me how impatient you are, it’s a wonder how I’ve tolerated you for this long.” You just rolled your eyes in response and grabbed his hand to leave.

Once you enter the house party you notice both Hoseok and Jungkook talking in the kitchen. Just seeing Jungkook brought butterflies to your tummy. Before you made your way to the men you found the table filled with bottles of drinks and poured yourself about two shots worth of fireball and downed it in one big gulp. You needed liquid courage if you wanted to make any progress with Jungkook tonight. Jimin watched you with wide eyes at your sudden behavior and you just gave him a wide smile while you made your strides to the kitchen. Jimin stood in his spot dumbfounded on how easily you left him. It irked him and made him feel disposable. He tried to brush off the feeling but it loomed over him for the rest of the night. He followed the direction you traveled to and saw you talking to Jungkook. You were giggling to no end and your cheeks were so round from how much you were smiling. This whole night bothered Jimin as he expected to spend it with you and only true. He walked away from the scene and moped on the couch while watching the party go down. If he continued to watch you throw yourself at his friend he would end up doing something he would regret.

“Y/N I’m surprised we haven’t properly hung out, you’re so much fun outside of class!” You rolled your eyes at his comment and poured yourself another mixed drink. The drinks helped you and Jungkook start to get cozy with each other. Hoseok even left you two alone when he noticed the atmosphere start to change between you two. Somehow the two of you managed to get rid of any space between each other and were now in close enough proximity to be skin to skin. The two of you were drunk enough to be bold but also not drunk enough to forget what happens if your actions don’t work in your favor. You started to eye his lips and Jungkook noticed because he started to come closer to you and get rid of the already nonexistent space between you two. Slowly your lips started to mold together and your stomach felt like there were fireworks bursting inside you. The two of you pulled away and Jungkook kept his hand on the small of your back. “Y/N, I hope you take me up on this offer or I’ll feel like a total idiot, but do you want to go up to my room and continue?” You were quick to agree and fervently nodded. Jungkook gave you a grin and took your hand in his and you two were quick to go up the stairs to his room.

Jimin saw you two go up the stairs and now he was livid. His best friend ditched him to go get fucked by his friend. You were selfish and he was going to make you regret your decision of being such a whore in front of him. He downed his drink and rushed up the stairs to Jungkook’s room. He swung open the door to find you completely naked and Jungkook’s head between your thighs. Oh how he wishes it was him instead. You looked at JImin mortified and crawled under Jungkook’s bedsheet with haste. Jungkook came close to your side and held your shaking body. “J-Jimin you could’ve at least knocked or something!” You were borderline angry at this point as Jimin wasn’t taking any hint to leave. Jimin took it upon himself to invite himself further into the room and locked the door behind himself. Now Jungkook was starting to get agitated. “Bro you’re my friend and all, but I really think you should go right now. I wasn’t doing anything to your best friend that she doesn’t want.” Jimin was furious to hear Jungkook’s words and in a blind fit of rage he punched Jungkook out cold and watched his body drop to the floor with a loud thud. “Jimin! What on Earth are you doing?” Now you really were scared as you have never seen Jimin act out so violently.

“Y/N, you have no idea how much I want you and have fantasized about you. Now you’re going to see tonight how I’ll make you mine!” He grabbed you by your throat and threw you down on the bed. You started to strain yourself to get any chance to breathe, but any chance you got Jimin held onto your throat tighter. He had a sinister look on his face and you were scared for your life. When your vision started to go in and out from darkness Jimin released his grasp on you and you dry heaved for oxygen. He did that just to put you in a weakened state and he used it to his advantage. He crawled on the bed and loomed over your body and grabbed your legs to drag you closer to him. He tried to force his head between your thighs but you clamped them together but he managed to pry them open. He gave you a hard slap on the back of your thigh. “Princess you won’t like me if you disobey me and fight back so just please just let me love you.” Jimin tried to give you a soft look, but you can still see the darkness embedded into his eyes. You forced yourself to comply without making eye contact. The idea of your best friend was gone and you would do anything to have him back and not have this monster in front of you.

Jimin lowered his head down to your core and gave you kitten licks on your clit. You felt so much sensitivity and you clamped your legs around his head. You felt Jimin let out a light chuckle and you tried to block the sound out of your mind. You tried to make the situation better for yourself by imagining that it was just Jungkook above you instead of Jimin taking advantage of you. Once Jimin had his fill of eating you out he lifted himself up and freed himself from his pants. Once he had his cock out he shoved himself into your tight, wet cunt with no mercy and you gripped onto the sheets with a vice grip. “Kitten, don't you love how my fat cock feels in your hole? Don’t I make you feel so good.” You had your eyes shut trying to acclimatize to his cock, but the pain was taking too long to subside. Without even getting a chance to answer, Jimin grabbed your jaw to make you look at him. “Y/N, I want an answer. Tell me how good I make you feel.” You felt so embarrassed, but you just needed to give him an answer to please him. “Y-yes you make me feel so good! “ Jimin loved how his cock looked sliding in and out of your pussy and how your tits bounced and that it brought him close to his orgasm. You felt his grip get tighter on your hips and you felt his thrusts get rougher and his groans get louder. You knew he reached his high when you felt his hips stutter and his cum start to leak out from your hole. Once he was out of you he got dressed like what just happened was not troubling. You stared at the ceiling and felt the tears drip down your cheeks. Just when you thought it was all over Jimin’s body was above you again and this time he had a pocket knife pressed to your throat. “If you ever try to get with Jungkook or anyone else I will kill you. You are mine and only mine you need to know that.”

Notes: I hope you guys are currently enjoying the start of my yandere series! I will eventually get to all the members. I am also working on making a masterlist so in the mean time if you would like to find my other works you can find them under the tag ‘bts fanfiction’ or ‘bts fanfic’ if you search my page! Again if you liked what you read please leave a like and a reblog it really helps! You can also give me a Kofi if you would like to help support my work!

[biletdoux]

stages of love | j.jh

Pairing | jung jaehyun (nct) + female!reader Rating | M Genre + Tropes | college!au, romance (angst, fluff, smut) Warnings | explicit language, alcohol consumption, instant love?, sexual content (drunk sex, receiving and giving oral, penetration, cow girl position, nipple play), greyzone fidelity Length | 15k+

Summary | A playlist for the trials and tribulations of a beating heart

(Or; your relationship with Jung Jaehyun in ten songs.)

Note: ahhhhhhh!!!! we finally did it boisssss. this fic has been a long time coming and honestly im sick and tired of jaehyun. i’ve spent too long thinking about him for this fic smh. this is also my first time writing smut so we’ll see how that goes lmao. anyway this was a long labor of love so please let me know what you thought of it !!! <333

1. Peach by IU

smitten at first sight.

“How can I explain this feeling?”

“Alright, I think that sums up about everything we need to cover for today’s lecture. Remember, most of this will be on your final exam. Any questions before you’re all dismissed?” 

Your professor looks up from the board, scans the room and all he sees are most of the students waiting with bated breath, itching to leave the class, and half of those students having already packed their belongings in anticipation. He held them back an extra twenty five minutes today, which is notably longer than previous lectures in which he delayed dismissal.

“Okay, you’re free to go. Chapters nineteen and twenty are due the next time we meet.”

You breathe out a sigh of relief, ready to head out with the rest of the class. You like Professor Jang and find that he makes history somewhat digestible, but he has a tendency to lose track of time, which is inconvenient, but more so today since you have agreed to meet up with Yeri. You glance at your phone to see text notifications and curse to yourself. You’re already ten minutes late and Yeri is many things and impatient is one of them. 

You’re one of the first out of the small lecture hall and you shoot her a quick reply before making your way to the oncampus cafe. Through quickened strides and shortcuts engrained from cross-campus treks from class to class, you arrive in record time. You’re slightly out of breath and impressed by your speed, but you stop, frozen in your tracks when you see Yeri’s displeased face. You find her situated in a small, but cozy corner next to the windows, already unpacked with notebooks and papers strewn on the desk ready to review for exams. It's one of the best study spots in the cafe and you immediately know your best friend had to come extra early to nab such a sought after table. 

“About time,” she scowls, “what took you so long?”

You shoot her an apologetic look, “aww, Yeri,” you pout your lips a little too dramatically, “I’m sorry. I just came from history and you know how Professor Jang is.” 

Yeri looks at your jutted lips in disgust, but then her face softens in consideration. “Hm, I do know Jang.” She scrunches up her nose remembering her time in his class last semester. “That old man can talk for days on end and he never lets anyone leave class early. I guess I’ll let you go this time.” 

You beam at her knowing she’s no longer angry for your tardiness. “Great, drinks are on me today. It’s the least I can do for being late.” Yeri forgives as easily and as quickly as she loses her temper. You learned this after a few weeks of being her roommate. 

Yeri says nothing in silent agreement and you place your stuff down across the table next to the chair she reserves for you. You pull out your wallet and weave through the packed cafe to head to the order counter. The line is long and you patiently review the menu. Your roommate has consistent tastes and always orders a vanilla frappuccino regardless of which cafe she goes to, but you base your decision on your mood. You mull over your choices and by the time you reach the barista taking your order, you decide you’re in an ‘iced Americano’ kind of mood today. You have exams on top of exams you need to review for and a stronger caffeine kick is much needed.

After paying, you head back to the table with two drinks in tow. Yeri takes her drink and after you both take a few sips and catch up for the day, you dive straight to work. The two of you decide to review for statistics. 

Between re-summarizing chapters and answering review questions, you muse to yourself about how your college experience thus far hasn't been that much different from your high school life. You didn’t necessarily hate high school, per say, but it was safe to say you didn’t enjoy it. Your heart was in the arts, specifically music, and you had found studying the core subjects to be boring and tedious. You remember being ecstatic to have been accepted and enrolled in a performing arts college, foolishly thinking your days of solving differential equations and memorizing chemical formulas were over. You specifically remember daydreaming of your hours being filled with keyboard practice and composition notes and only such things. Somehow the reality of mandatory general education courses slipped your mind when you constructed such fantasies.

Despite frivolous and preconceived notions of college, you have already survived a semester and you are nearly through your second. 

“Hey, do you remember when this stats assignment is due?” Yeri’s inquiring voice snaps you out of your brief reverie and you search your cluttered brain for a date.

“Uh, I think it’s due, like, a few days before the final, but I’d have to double check.” 

Yeri nods. “Alright, well let’s take a small break. We have some time till then, we don’t have to finish all of it today.” 

You happily agree and set down your pen. Yeri takes a sip of her frappuccino and you lean over the table to get closer to her. “Anyway, did you hear about what happened with Jiwon and Youngjae from the entertainment management department?”

Her eyes glisten with wicked interest. “No. Do tell.”

Break time is always synonymous with gossip hour between you and Yeri. 

You spend the next fifteen minutes dishing what you know and Yeri offers her own input whenever she feels fit. 

“And they think they’re being discreet, but the whole dorm knows they’ve been sneaking around, but guess wha─” Before you can finish your sentence, you are cut off by a loud and energetic voice calling out Yeri’s name.

The two of you look up to see a slim and boyish brunet waving to Yeri and excitedly making his way to your table. He looks vaguely familiar, but you can’t quite place your finger on it, so you let it go.

He smiles happily at Yeri and greets her. “Hey Yeri, how’s it going?” He notices you there and gives you a polite wave, which you return in the same manner.

Yeri replies back breezily, but with her full attention. “Good. Did you need anything, Mark?” 

He flushes just the slightest bit, but it doesn’t escape your eyes. “Erm, nothing I just wanted to remind you that we’re meeting for the music theory project tomorrow at four. I would’ve texted, but I forgot to get your number in class, and I saw you here and thought it was a good opportunity to tell you.” 

Yeri’s eyes widen, “ah right! I completely forgot about it. It’s a good thing you found me here today, huh? Here, I’ll give you my number.”

She reaches her hand out her hand expectantly, and Mark is confused before scrambling to pull out his phone. You can tell Mark looks flustered while Yeri is calmly putting in her contact information. After finishing, she hands his phone back, “okay, all set. Just shoot me a text so I have your number as well. Thanks for reminding me today or I probably would’ve forgotten and not have shown up or something.” 

Mark smiles again, this time a little more sure than before. “All good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Yeri.” 

They wave goodbye and you watch Mark scamper from the cafe. Your eyes follow him, but Yeri is already focused on you again, paying Mark’s retreating form no mind. 

“So…” you start.

“So?” She returns.

“He’s cute.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she shrugged. “I barely know him though. We have music theory together, but this is the first time we’ve talked all semester and we’re only talking because we got paired up for a project.”

Yeri seems apathetic and you study her closely. You notice she’s acting a little too stiffly carefree to be truly indifferent to the situation. You can’t help, but to tease her a bit. “Well, make the most out of this project then.”

Yeri gives you a hard look and you decide to let it go despite finding your best friend’s situation to be amusing. 

“Anyway, keep telling me about Jiwon and Youngjae. You never finished.” Yeri changes the topic, knowing that you might decide to pester her again if she doesn’t.

“As I was saying,” you started up again. A figure outside catches your attention and you peer outside through the window past Yeri’s shoulders. You realize it’s Mark and you watch with interest as he gestures excitedly, pointing to something in his hand, you assume his phone, to some of his friends. From there your eyes wander absentmindedly from one person to the next, and it’s when you see him. 

The reaction is almost instantaneous. 

“Like you were saying?” Yeri urges, but her words fall on deaf ears, for all your attention is captured by the boy next to Mark with heart-shaped lips.

When you see said boy laugh, you notice he has moon for eyes and you unconsciously suck in a sharp breath. You must have been staring too intently without noticing because he turns his head in your direction and you two hold direct eye contact. Like a deer caught in headlights, you freeze and lose all rational thought. Your head is completely blank. You have never seen someone so beautiful and your mind does not know how to process any sensory information at the moment.

Someone calls the boy away and the entire group of friends leave. It’s only then do you find yourself releasing a breath you didn’t know you had been holding onto so tightly. Your heart is pounding and you feel as though blood is rushing through your ears. 

“Hello?” Yeri sounds annoyed, but you struggle to find the words to answer her. 

You feel a sudden heat rush to color your cheeks a vibrant red and a feeling surges through you that leaves you out of breath and weak at the knees. A steady warmth washes over you quietly and you feel it deep within yourself and you can’t help but let out a small laugh.

How silly, you muse. Not to be dramatic, but you think you’re in love.

2. Shadow by f(x)

adoration from afar. 

“I’m really really into you.”

The next few weeks are packed to the brim with assignments and papers, but despite this, you still find time for your personal research into the boy who was with Mark that day. 

Being the obvious first and easiest option, you beg Yeri to ask Mark directly about his friend, but she immediately shoots you down. 

“No. Absolutely not. At least not anytime soon anyway,” she huffs. “I’ve barely held two full conversations with him, like hell the next is gonna be about his friend just cause my best friend started thirsting over him after one glance. I mean come on, girl.” She shakes her head at you. 

Yeri’s right and you apologize to her for being thoughtless of her situation. She doesn’t say it, but she seems really hopeful about the music theory project and what might bloom from it. You would not want to impede on such possibilities of happiness for your friend, so you let that option go, but Yeri promises to help in other ways and she does. 

Somehow between caffeine fueled cram sessions and sleep deprivation, you, with Yeri’s help manage to find out more about the boy. You casually ask around in your contemporary writing and production department and she offers help by searching her vocal performance department. 

You find out his name is Jung Jaehyun and he’s a third year in the musical theatre department and that he’s a member of the local chapter of the performing arts fraternity on campus. You also discover his Instagram handle and you find yourself skimming through his page throughout the day more often  than you’re willing to admit to any living soul. 

You occasionally see him around campus since you first saw him at the cafe and each time, you can feel your heart hammer in your chest and you become so flustered to the point of your sympathetic nervous system activating. Unfortunately for you, your body unconsciously chooses flight each and every time at the sight of Jaehyun because you can always feel your knees go weak and your body lurch away to escape in any direction that isn’t Jaehyun’s. You kind of hate yourself each time you do, but you can’t help it. He’s just so pretty that it’s intimidating!

You try to think positive after the bouts of shame you experience after each escapade. 

Well there’s no way to embarrass yourself in front of him if you run away before having the chance to, right?

Even thinking about it now in the comfort of your bed, you can’t shake your self-consciousness and bury your face in a large pillow resting on your knees. Your cheeks are burning and you don’t know what to do. 

“Hey, why don’t you just talk to him, instead of moping all day and stalking his profile like a creep.” Yeri’s crisp words cut through your musings and you glance up to see her entering your shared room in the dorms.

“Shut up. It’s not like I have a benevolent match-making professor who happens to pair me up with my crush for an end-of-semester project.” You retort back before sighing dramatically, “I literally have no excuse to talk to him. We’re not in the same year or major. We don’t even have mutual friends. Unless, y’know, you and Mark hit it off, who knows.” 

Yeri sits down next to you on your small twin bed, resting her head on your shoulder while letting out an equally dramatic sigh, “yeah, well, Mark’s so dense, all the divine intervention in the world isn’t going to help me.” 

You let out snort, “what’s up with you two anyway?”

“Y’know, I could’ve sworn he was into me and I had a chance with him, but every time we meet up we literally only work on the project and nothing else. Every time I sort of tried to do something I get shot down. Like I told him I was kind of chilly today in the library, and he looks all thoughtful for a moment but all he ends up saying is ‘yeah, all the buildings on campus are always cold, huh? Good thing I always bring a jacket with me. You should bring one too next time, I don’t want you getting cold.’ And then he just turns back to the project like nothing. Can you believe him?” Yeri complains and you swear her annoyance is palpable. “And every time I text him to hangout, he thinks it’s to work on the project. I honestly can’t tell if he’s really that stupid or if he’s just not into me.” 

You laugh at her unfortunate, but undeniable state of love affairs. 

“Really? That bad? I remember him being all blushy when he asked for your number,” you recall. “And you should’ve seen how he looked when he showed off he got your number. Well that’s what it looked like anyway, I could be wrong.”

“Well, at least I’ll get a good grade though. Mark is nothing if not diligent and hard-working, with him being a double major and all.” Yeri sounds resigned however, she sighs again, this time more frustrated and you hear the determination in her voice. “Alright, after finals, for sure we’re gonna hit the clubs. We need to let loose, have some fun.”

You agree with her to appease her short temper, but deep down you feel disappointed. You feel sorry for your friend, having genuinely wanted Mark and her to work out, but a small and selfish part of you felt sorry for having no bridge to Jaehyun at all if it didn’t work out between Yeri and Mark. Looks like you were stranded now and you’d have to find a way to Jaehyun one way or another, but your line of help ends here.

Shaking away such negative thoughts, you think to yourself how soju bombs and dance floors don’t so bad after such an intense exam period after all. It will definitely take your mind off of things for sure.

And even though you say this to yourself, you know your mind will still be plagued with Jung Jaehyun no matter how much you try.

3. What Is Love by EXO-K

careful contemplation. 

“I can’t explain what I feel.”

“Mark, tell me you did not.” The disbelief in Johnny’s voice made the situation all the more hilarious and even Jaehyun, who’s the calmer of the two, couldn’t suppress the guffaw from escaping his lips. 

The tips of Mark’s ears flush a light pink and he tries to deliver a convincing argument, but all that comes out is a meek stammer, further driving Johnny up the wall.

When Mark came up to his and Johnny’s room asking for advice, Jaehyun had an idea of where it was going to lead, considering Mark’s clueless disposition and inexperienced track record, but Jaehyun had no idea it was going to be this bad. 

Mark, having developed a crush on a fellow vocal performance major in his music theory class, came to Johnny, his frat big, to spill his guts and ask for advice constantly. Being Johnny’s roommate, meant Jaehyun was also privy to all the details of Mark’s love life and he had no problem giving advice to the amusing first year student, which Mark appreciated because going to Johnny meant a clowning session before he could get any useful nuggets of information. 

When Mark’s music theory professor randomly assigned the two for the end of semester project, Mark was one part excited and two parts nervous, resulting in a frazzled mess. He has been going up to the second room on the right of the second floor of the frat house almost every other day to ask for advice since then. 

Johnny was thrilled when he initially heard of the project, already envisioning his little’s love prospects, stating something along the lines of “my little’s gonna get laid!” 

However, now looking at Johnny rubbing his temples in exasperation, Jaehyun can tell that his roommate’s initial enthusiasm has dissipated. 

Mark’s daily roadblock today consisted of his crush giving him the cold shoulder and being much more snappy than before in the project meet up earlier. Mark recalls Yeri’s anger toward him and racks his brain for an answer. Even Johnny and Jaehyun are stumped at the sudden behavior, assuming that things were going smoothly from Mark’s previous reports filled with clumsy, but endearing and ultimately positive signs. It’s only when Mark offhandedly mentions her so-called ‘strange’ comment about the temperature, does it become clear why Yeri’s attitude suddenly shifted so drastically.

“I mean, I don’t know what I did wrong.” Mark’s second attempt to defend himself has Johnny flaring his nostrils in indignation and Jaehyun has to turn away in an attempt to stifle his laughter.

“Dude, she’s so into you. Or, at least she was, I don’t know about it anymore.” Johnny starts after calming down. “She left herself wide open for you to take a clear shot and you effectively said to her face, ‘thanks but no thanks’ and then walked away. No wonder she’s pissed, I’d be pissed too.” 

“Well, what was I supposed to do then?” Mark counters. 

“Mark,” Johnny begins, his tone dry and coarse, “you’re killing me.”

Jaehyun deems this the perfect time to step in, the laughter about done coursing through his system at this point. He clears his throat before offering his input, “It’s not too, too bad. Johnny’s just being dramatic. If she likes you enough, she’ll probably forgive you if you play your cards right from here on out.” 

Mark perks up, his attention solely on Jaehyun. 

Jaehyun hums absentmindedly to himself, gathering and organizing his thoughts to properly explain exactly where and how Mark went wrong and what to do moving forward. When Jaehyun opens his mouth to speak, Mark is glued on to every word and Jaehyun can see the gears in his brain whirring at high speeds. 

By the time Jaehyun is done, Johnny has calmed down and Mark nods his head fervently in understanding. 

“Ah, that makes so much sense now! I got it now.” 

Despite his assurances, both Johnny and Jaehyun know Mark will be back soon. 

“Alright little, listen up,” Johnny starts. “Here’s the game plan from here on out.” 

Johnny goes off on a sermon, determined to help his little ‘get some’ as Johnny so delicately puts it. Jaehyun can see it’s not the most tasteful of word choice for Mark to hear, but the youngest says nothing. 

Lounging lazily in the bean bag on his side of the room, Jaehyun knocks his head back and thinks of a few weeks back when he accompanied Mark and some other frat members to the rec center for some basketball. Jaehyun remembers Mark was bemoaning the fact he forgot to ask for some girl’s number and it was as if a higher entity heard the boy’s laments and felt especially gracious, because right as they were passing the cafe, Mark stopped in his tracks and suddenly ran off into the busy building. 

The group of frat boys watched him excitedly weave his way through the crowd of bodies and occupied tables to reach a table with two girls. When they saw the girl putting her number into Mark’s phone, Johnny elbowed Jaehyun, and like a proud parent Johnny exaggeratedly acknowledged his little. “They grow up so fast, don’t they, Jaehyun.” Johnny even wiped an imaginary tear from his eye to really send the message home.

It was only a few moments later and Mark came bounding out of the cafe, eager to show everyone how lucky it was that he happened to see her. “I mean what are the odds, right?” the said boy exclaimed so happily, his cheer so infectious, Jaehyun couldn’t help himself from letting out a laugh of his own. 

Jaehyun turned to give Mark an encouraging pat on the back and it’s when he notices a pair of eyes on him. He turns fully to come in the direct line of sight of a girl whose eyes, Jaehyun imagined to have been very warm, had they not been burning holes into him. Her intense gaze slightly unnerved him, but not to the point of pulling away. He found himself entranced and the only thing that broke the quick spell was Johnny’s voice, calling him to move it along. 

Jaehyun recalls easily breaking eye contact and giving little thought to the strange girl with fire for eyes, but as the days passed, Jaehyun couldn’t shake the thought of her from his mind. 

Even now in the comfort of his room and with Johnny and Mark not even a foot away, carefully planning Mark’s love endeavors, all Jaehyun’s mind can really focus on is the thought of you. 

Jaehyun is sure he’s only looked at you for less than a minute, but somehow he’s able to clearly trace out the image of you that day, like a perfect snapshot. 

“Yo Jaehyun,” Johnny calls. “You good? You’ve been spacing out, bro.”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Jaehyun answers offhandedly, before contemplating to himself. Was he good? Jaehyun wouldn’t necessarily say he’s bad in any way, but it isn’t normal for him to have the thought of a girl remain so clearly engraved in his mind for so long, and even less common for it to actually be a girl he doesn’t even know nonetheless. It’s not a pressing issue, but it does bother him. He weighs over the next steps in his mind. 

“Alright, just making sure.”

With one last thought, Jaehyun concludes to himself that it’s time to tackle his concern at hand head-on. 

“Actually,” he starts, “Mark, do you remember the girl next to Yeri the day you asked for her number?” 

Mark quirks his head in thought and Jaehyun can see Johnny raise his eyebrows in sudden interest. 

“Uh kinda,” Mark answers. “I think she’s a CWP major. I’m pretty sure we shared an arranging class last semester, but like, I don’t know her personally or anything; it was a large lecture. To be honest, I don’t even think she recognized me at all, judging from her reaction that day. Why, what’s up?”

Jaehyun nods, absorbing the information, giving Johnny ample time to fire away. 

“Yeah Jaehyun,” Jaehyun can visualize the glint in Johnny’s eyes just from hearing his mischievous tone. “What is up? I haven’t seen you ask about a girl in a hot minute. Thought you suddenly went abstinent without telling me or something.”

Jaehyun isn’t quite sure how to reply. Without a doubt you were cute to Jaehyun and he wouldn’t be opposed for things to happen between the two of you, but he doesn’t even know you! Well, not that it’s been a problem for Jaehyun in the past, but your lingering presence bothers him in ways he cannot communicate. Why is that the thought of you won’t leave him and why does it bother him so much?

Jaehyun decides to be straightforward, as straightforward as his muddled brain allows him to be. “She’s cute. I wanna get to know her.” 

“Okay, Jaehyun.” Johnny whoops obnoxiously. “I see you.” 

Mark is surprised and suddenly Johnny is all fired up again. Abruptly, Johnny shoots up and the determination that burns in his eyes is admirable. 

“I’ve got it!” He declares proudly. 

Jaehyun and Mark are quiet, waiting patiently for him to continue. They say nothing, knowing there is not a thing that can reach him when Johnny gets like this. 

“We’re throwing a party and you bet your ass your two girls are gonna be there.”

4. Heaven by Ailee

walking on Cloud 9. 

“When I hear your voice, it feels like I’m dreaming.”

You look up at the two-story house before you and wonder how you got here. Actually, you don’t wonder at all because you know exactly how you ended up at the steps of the local performing arts fraternity at your college, but you sigh regardless, as if someone had weaseled you into being here. Your nerves gnaw at you and you feel your stomach doing all types of aerobic tricks, the feeling reminiscent of the sensation before the roller coaster drops. 

Yeri grabs your hand and pulls you excitedly to the front door. You can feel the thrum of music emanating from the building.  

You recall how Yeri almost jumped you to tell the good news. 

Finals flew by without any major hitches, ignoring sleepless nights and caffeine crashes. You don’t know how you’ll do, but you’re satisfied with your exam performances. You were in the clear and were just waiting for Yeri to present her joint music theory project before the both of you could finally let loose as a celebration to end the school year. 

You waited for her outside of the classroom building as promised, playing with your phone to past time until you were suddenly engulfed by a delighted pair of arms. Yeri hugged you tight; she was in high spirits, seemingly from acing her presentation and you hugged her back in congratulations. She pulled at you closer and whispered in your ears, “just say yes.” 

You were confused, but looked up to see Mark headed toward the two you. Yeri released you, leaving one arm still slung casually over your shoulder.

“Hey guys. My frat’s throwing a party tonight to celebrate finishing exams. I was wondering if, uh, you guys wanted to come? I mean you don’t have to, it’s totally optional.” 

You didn’t say anything at first and Yeri interjected, “Of course!” She smiled at you innocently despite harshly pinching you to respond, her action hidden from Mark’s sight. “We’d love to, right?”

“Uh,” you answered distractedly. “Y-yeah, sure.” 

“Great.” Mark beamed. “Party starts at eight. I gotta go help set up, so I’ll see ya there!” 

And with that, he left as soon as he arrived and you looked at Yeri questioningly for answers. “I thought we were hitting downtown tonight. What happened to club hopping?” 

Yeri smiled devilishly, “change of plans. I’ll tell you more about it later. The most important thing is finding the perfect outfit for you tonight, cause Jaehyun’s gonna be there.” 

And so, here you find yourself dressed in high-waisted shorts and a cute top that took an embarrassingly long time to decide on. You are greeted by the fraternity president at the door of the house, Taeyong you think his name is, and he gives you two a quick verbal tour of the place, really emphasizing where to get drinks. Yeri thanks him for the both of you and you enter the crowded house. You think at least half of the performing art majors must’ve been here judging by the sheer volume of packed bodies. 

You remember Yeri explaining how she and Mark may have been making a breakthrough and this party was imperative for its success. You were completely okay attending for that reason alone, because after all, what kind of person sends her best friend to a frat party alone? However, your resolve to go was set in stone after she explained that the frat that was throwing the party just happened to be the same frat Jaehyun was a member of. 

“And y’know, seeing as how you’ve been obsessing over him the past few weeks, it’s the perfect opportunity.” 

You frown remembering her words and make your way to the kitchen with Yeri in tow. Various beverages, alcoholic and non-alcoholic, crowd the table and you recognize the guy standing nearby idly chatting with others. It’s Jaemin, an acting major in your history lecture with whom you frequently exchange notes with when either one of you decides to flake for the day. You vaguely recall him mentioning his fraternity association, but didn’t realize it happened to be this one. He sees the two of you approaching the drink table and he smiles widely.

“Oh hey, what’s up?” Jaemin greets casually. “Didn’t expect to see you here. How’d you think you did in the history final?” 

You groan. “I don’t even want to talk about it. What’s important is that we’re finished and I won’t ever have to think about the WWII timeline for, hopefully, forever.”

“Amen,” Jaemin laughs. “I’ll drink to that.” He raises up his red solo cup to cheers, before realizing both you and Yeri had nothing to drink. 

“Oh shit, I’m a pretty bad host, huh? First thing I should've done was get you two something to drink.” He chides himself, but his tone is playful. “What can I get for you, ladies?”

Before you can think about what you want, Yeri cuts you off, her tone matching Jaemin’s. “How about some shots to start off and we’ll forgive the lack of hospitality.”

Jaemin laughs again. “Alright, I like it.” His hands are adept at weaving around the table and finding the paper shot cups and the vodka. “Svedka’s okay, right?” 

“We’re not picky.” You and Yeri agree. You take the shot in one gulp and the unpleasant burning in your throat makes you wince. 

“Can I get you two anything else?” 

“Yeah,” you say. “I think another shot and then a mixed drink. Anything’s fine, but preferably on the stronger side.” You look over at Yeri and she nods in agreement.

“Coming right up.” Jaemin agrees easily. 

He pours the two of you another shot and you think he must be a generous guy because the shot is overflowing. You and Yeri cheer once more while Jaemin gets to work mixing a cherry bourbon with some Coke. He tops off the drinks with some ice before handing it over to the both of you. “Here they are. Enjoy, ladies.”

You thank him and take a sip before excusing yourself to make your way around the party. The drink is sweet and the smoky aftertaste of the bourbon gives it a pleasant edge. You and Yeri are attached to the hip as you drift from one part to another around the party, making easy going small talk along the way. You are sufficiently buzzed by this point and feel much lighter as though the party was somehow two degrees removed from your senses. You look over to check on Yeri and she’s noticeably drunker than you are, giggling about the simplest of things and slurring her words just the slightest bit. You make a mental note to ease the drinking, wanting to be sober enough to look after her in case anything were to arise. 

The two of you are at the base of the stairs when you hear Mark’s voice calling Yeri’s name. You turn your attention upward to see him ambling down the stairs with excited fervor. His cheeks are flushed, more so than usual around Yeri, and you can tell it’s due to alcohol because Mark is holding her hands and you know he can never be so bold without the help of liquid courage. 

“Yo Mark, slow down there.” A voice calls out and you look up again and you feel your breath caught in your throat. 

There in front of your eyes is Jung Jaehyun in the flesh. He looks heavenly dressed in simple jeans and a white tee. You unconsciously swallow the lump in your throat and your heart beat gallops a mile a minute in your chest. Your mouth goes dry and you mindlessly gulp down swigs of your drink. You know Yeri would’ve sniggered at your current state had she not been so tipsy and completely preoccupied with Mark. 

Jaehyun catches up to Mark and when he reaches the base of the stairs, he notices the two of you.

“Oh Jaehyun, lemme introduce you guys.” 

As promised, Mark introduces everyone quickly and Jaehyun shoots a smile that seems to be aimed at you. “Nice to meet everyone.” 

“Cool, now that everyone knows each other,” Mark starts. “Yeri, can I show you something?” 

“Uh, y-yeah.” 

You give Yeri a hard look and she takes your hand to squeeze it in reassurance. She looks at you pleadingly and there’s a confidence in her eyes that you can’t argue with. You relent and let her go. 

Mark takes her by the hand and leads her up the stairs while you watch, slightly worried. 

Jaehyun seems to have sensed your apprehension because the words that leave his mouth snaps you out of your perturbed state. “Don’t worry. Mark’s a good kid, you have nothing to worry about. You have my word on it.” 

And suddenly the situation dawns on you. The boy of your recent all-consuming infatuation stands here before you, and it’s just the two of you alone. Any social skills you have, leave you and you’re unsure of what to do. 

Jaehyun notices the awkward tension in the air and works quickly to dispel it. “Your drink’s looking low. Can I get you something else?” 

You look down to your drink to see that he was right. Only a few sips remain. You didn’t realize you had drank so much at the sight of Jaehyun. 

“Um, some water would be good. I don’t want to be too hungover tomorrow.” You answer shyly. You also need to be sober enough to look after Yeri, but you decide to leave that out.

Jaehyun chuckles, “sure thing. Here, come with me. I’ll get you some water.”

Jaehyun leads you to the kitchen with ease, seamlessly weaving through the crowds of people. Every group of people he passes greets him loudly to be heard of the pounding bass of the music. You are not surprised to see how popular he is. 

Once in the kitchen, he grabs you a bottle of water and a beer for himself from the fridge and you thank him. The cold water is refreshing, but it does little to cool your nerves. The awkward tension is high and still ever present. You feel as though you’re drowning in it and you also feel like running away from here despite this being what you’ve wanted for more than anything for weeks on end. 

“So,” Jaehyun starts, clearing his throat. “Mark told me you’re a CWP major?” 

“Uh, y-yeah, actually.” You hate how you’re so flustered around him. “How’d he know? Did Yeri tell him or something?” 

“He said you guys shared an arranging class last semester.” Jaehyun recalls.

“Wait, really? I had no idea.” You start going off on how you could’ve missed such a thing and Jaehyun smiles. You’re much more comfortable when a rhythm has been established and the words flow out of you easily. You’re not as relaxed as where Jaehyun wants you to be, but he thinks it’s a good start. 

You continue with small talk from there, much less uptight than before and you feel glad. Jaehyun is as radiant in person as he is in your imagination. You find him to be very kind and your heart flutters even more. Jaehyun mentions he’s a musical theatre major and you do your best to act surprised despite it being one of the only things you know about him prior to this moment.

Before he gets a chance to tell you more about himself, a tall boy with long limbs calls out to Jaehyun that it’s his turn to join the next game of beer pong. Jaehyun looks reluctant to leave and you don’t want him to leave either, but you’d hate to hold him back from prior engagements. 

“Would you,” Jaehyun licks his lips in consideration, “like to play with me? I don’t have a partner.” 

You nod your head and readily agree, eager to spend more time with him.

You’ve only played beer pong a handful of times and being around Jaehyun makes you nervous, so you miss the first few shots. You feel embarrassed, but Jaehyun is patient and assures you that it’s no problem at all. His little words of encouragement mixed with the beer you drink helps melt your tension, and halfway through the game, you’re whooping and hollering with everyone watching the game. 

You high-five Jaehyun without a second thought after nailing a perfect shot and Jaehyun smiles even wider. The two of you are leading when Taeyong comes in to kick everyone out. 

“Sorry guys, party’s over.” 

Groans of complaints could be heard throughout the crowd, but Taeyong’s words are firm and he ushers everyone to leave. He has a few other frat members behind him helping out. He reaches the beer pong table and pulls Jaehyun aside. After a few exchanged words, Jaehyun nods in agreement and ends the game completely, apologizing to his opponents. 

You’re confused, so you carefully ask Jaehyun what’s going on. He sees you and his gaze softens, he quietly explains, “apparently, the campus police have received multiple noise complaints and since the fraternity already has a strike, Taeyong doesn’t really want to risk another. “

“Ah, I see.” You nod. You’re saddened by the turn of events, having finally eased into a relative comfort around Jaehyun and you yearn for more. “Well, I better go look for Yeri then.” 

This is a goodbye and you’re unsure of what else to say to him, your disappointment mixes with alcohol making you feel even more miserable. You want to ask for more, but can’t find the words to reach him. Luckily, Jaehyun does it for you. 

“Are you free sometime this week?” He asks. “I feel like we didn’t get a chance to really talk and I’d like to.” 

Your heart hammers and the blood rushes in your ears, but you still find yourself uttering a mousy agreement.

“Great,” his smile is dazzling and you feel dizzy. “It’s a date then.”

5. 24 Hours by Sunmi

rushed minutes. 

“Time goes by so quickly.”

“Hey,” a distant voice calls out and Jaehyun looks up from his phone to see your approaching figure. Your cheeks are rosy from the summer sun and stray pieces of your hair escape from your loosely styled updo. Jaehyun takes all of you in with careful appreciation.

“Hey yourself.” Jaehyun chuckles, slipping his phone casually in his pocket and standing up straighter to greet you properly.

Jaehyun sees the red of your face flush brighter, the soft color bleeding across your cheeks and onto your nose. Cute, he thinks. He watches as you tighten your grip on your clutch, knuckles white with nervous tension, in an attempt to gather your composure and calm your nerves. You clear your throat, “I didn’t know you’d be here so soon. You should’ve texted me.” 

“It’s all good, I finished early.” Jaehyun notices you no longer stutter around him like the first night you two met. He’s glad the days and nights of sober texting after exchanging numbers at the party did wonders to make you feel comfortable around him. He’s not too worried about your current ‘first-date’ anxiety, knowing it’ll be dispelled soon enough. “Shall we?” He moves to open the door and the cool rush of air from the cafe greets the two of you. 

The cafe is quaint and cozy, tucked away in a small corner of intersecting back streets and crowded buildings. Jaehyun discovered the little spot not too long ago and something, Jaehyun assumes his instincts, compelled him to take you to it for the first official date. It just felt right.

The two of you walk to the order counter and you take it all in. You can hear the quiet chatter of the cafe occupants mixed with the rattle of espresso machines being put to work. Your eyes scan over the decorations and several potted succulents hanging from the ceiling. It’s incredibly homey and you feel at ease. 

“Hiya, I can help the two of you whenever you guys are ready.” The barista is cheerful to a fault and Jaehyun watches you shoot her a grateful smile before your eyes move to the menu to decide on what to get. 

Jaehyun knows what he wants, so he waits patiently for you to decide, but seeing your eyebrows scrunch together in indecision, Jaehyun chuckles to himself. “I hear the iced lattes here are really good, particularly the caramel latte,” he offers. 

You perk up in surprise, but you recover quickly, “okay, that sounds good then. I was between that and the iced cocoa.”

“No problem, I’ll order then. Today’s on me.” Jaehyun says. 

Jaehyun walks up to the barista and quickly places the order. He reaches for his wallet after the barista recites the order, but he falters slightly when he sees your gaze glued to the cake display, particularly the crepe cake. 

“Can I get a slice of the chocolate crepe cake over there too?” 

“Of course! Here’s your new total,” she turns the touch screen display over to Jaehyun and he readily inserts his card to pay. When finished, Jaehyun turns back the screen and after a few taps from the barista, a receipt is printed and she hands him a buzzer. 

“Your order will be out shortly.” She informs him.

Jaehyun smiles and says a small ‘thank you’ in return before turning his attention to you. You look up to meet his eyes and you smile, “can we sit over there by the window?” 

You head to the little corner table first with Jaehyun steadily in tow. You sit at the chair that leaves your back to the window and Jaehyun is mesmerized by how the afternoon sunlight refracts through your silhouette. You’re glowing and Jaehyun swallows thickly. 

“So,” he starts. “What have you been up to?”

“Celebrating finishing my first year of college in one piece.” You laugh lightly. “I got by with passable grades, but other than that Yeri and I just finished moving into our new dorms. We’re no longer freshmen, so first year dorms are off limits. I’m gonna miss the convenient location.” You jokingly mope. 

Jaehyun laughs easily with you and before he gets a chance to reply, the buzzer goes off so he excuses himself to go pick up the order. 

A different barista places down a tray with your two drinks and a small slice of cheesecake with two dessert forks resting on some napkins. “Enjoy your order!” 

Jaehyun smiles in thanks and picks up the tray to bring it back to the table. He can’t wait to see the look on your face when you see the mille crepe cake and true to his expectations, your eyes light up at the sight of dessert. 

“Surprise.” He says. “I saw you looking at it earlier.” 

Jaehyun watches as you immediately grab a small fork and try a piece of the cake with unrestricted child-like excitement. Your eyes light up at the taste of the delicate layers of fresh whipped cream and thin crepes and the smile you shoot in his direction has Jaehyun’s heart beating a little faster than he’s willing to admit. 

“Thank you!” You look up at him. “It’s so good, you should definitely try a bite too.” 

“Yeah? I’ll try some then.” Jaehyun sits down and leans even closer to you over the table, his mouth open and expectant and his eyes staring straight into yours. 

You try your best to bite back the scarlet fighting to stain your cheeks as you cinch off a small section of the cake with your fork. Your hand falters just the slightest bit when delivering the small confection to his awaiting mouth, but you push through and feed him despite the embarrassment you feel. 

Jaehyun chews slowly and deliberately, taking his time to lick the stray whipped cream from the corner of his mouth. You lose the game of chicken, breaking eye contact first. 

“Yeah,” he agrees. “It’s good. We should definitely come back.” 

You let out a little awkward cough, desperate to ward off your cloud of emotions. “Uhm, yeah sure.”

Jaehyun has always thought you were cute, but he thinks you’re especially cute today. 

“Anyway,” you start. You want to change the topic because you don’t think you can survive this tension without your brain frying. “I feel like I’ve just seen you around recently. I should’ve run into you a long time ago since the performing arts college is so small.” 

“Oh,” Jaehyun is a little taken aback. “I used to be over at the East Campus. I was a business and administration major for two years before I switched over to musical theatre.”

“Wait really?” Your surprise erases any tension you felt earlier. “I had no idea.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “It doesn’t really come up in conversation.” 

“Why’d you switch over? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

Jaehyun contemplates his reply for a second as takes a sip of his coffee. “Well, when I entered college, I didn’t really know what I wanted, so I just followed whatever my parents wanted me to do. I actually knew I liked musical theatre for the longest time, but it took time for me to build up the courage to switch. My parents weren’t happy with it at first and we fought for the longest time, but I think they’ve warmed up to it enough by now. I’ve never really talked about this though, I just tell people I transferred from a different college and the conversation just ends there I guess, but it’s really no big deal.”

“Thank you for telling me this, Jaehyun.” Your voice is sincere and Jaehyun believes you.

“What about you, hm?” Jaehyun returns. “Why CWP?” 

“I don’t really have one point that changed my life and helped me find my calling or whatever,” you ponder with a tilt of the head and the taste of cream dissolving in your mouth. “But ever since I was little, I always knew I was gonna end up doing something in music. I was never good at singing though, so vocal performance was out the door and I wasn’t that interested in classical instruments either, so that helped me narrow stuff down. Actually, what really helped me decide was during orientation, my group leader was a contemporary writing and production major and she told me all about it and I’ve been sold ever since. I really like it though, and have no intention of switching.”

“That’s good. Sometimes I wish I switched earlier.” Jaehyun muses. “I feel so behind sometimes. Most people in my class have already been in at least one musical and an internship, except for me. I think about it a lot, but I try not to let it get me so down.” 

“You shouldn’t feel that way!” You try your best to cheer him up, and Jaehyun appreciates it a lot more than he thought he would. “Everyone has their own pace, that’s what college is all about! Nothing is ever wasted time. You can think of your time as a business admin major as a way to help you make up your mind on your true passion. You told me you’ve always liked musical theatre, but I’ve bet without the time in business, you would’ve never known you liked it enough to pursue a career out of it.”

Jaehyun laughs at your earnesty. He thinks you’re a touch naive, but your words make him feel light. “You’re right. I can say for sure I wasn’t happy as a business major.”

“See? Nothing is ever wasted time if you can discover your true happiness out of it.” 

The two of you exchange easy chatter after that and between small bites of cake and sips of coffee, Jaehyun thinks you’ve become prettier and prettier.

“What was it like?” You ask absentmindedly.

“Hm? What was ‘what’ like?”

“Being a business and administration major.”

Jaehyun has to think about it. He recalls constantly dressing up for group presentations and boring lectures, but his mind wanders to his activities outside the classroom. He remembers the constant partying and the blur of faces that helped him keep his bed warm. He remembers brief flings and relationships cut short. He doesn’t want to think about those things when he’s next to you. “Uhm. It was okay, nothing special, but that reminds me–”

“Yeah?”

“Are you free next weekend?”

“I should be. Why, what’s up?”

“Great,” Jaehyun smiles while taking the last sip of his coffee. “I’m having a housewarming party at my new apartment. You should definitely be there.” 

--

The day of the long awaited housewarming party rolls up sooner than expected between settling into your new dorm with Yeri and the occasional small ‘get-togethers’ with Jaehyun. They’re actually dates if you're being honest, but you don’t want to put a title on anything in case he wasn’t on the same page as you. Being with Jaehyun made you giddy in more ways than one, but that means the anxiety that pools at the base of your stomach grows larger each day when the relationship between the two of you goes unnamed. You feel greedy when you desperately grasp at the shred of time you share with him, always unwillingly to let go.

“Are you ready?” Yeri’s voice breaks you out of your small reverie. Her hand is poised, ready to knock on the black door of Jaehyun’s apartment, waiting for you to gather your composure. Yeri is dressed to the nines in a cute skirt with a top to match. She wants to look good for her new boyfriend and you teased her endlessly for it when the two of you were getting ready.

“Mark’s one lucky guy.”

“Shut up. Worry about yourself.”

“All I do is love you, yet you’re so mean to me.”

Regardless of her harsh words toward you, she helped you toss your closet inside and out for the perfect outfit to woo Jaehyun, even if it meant showing up late to the party. 

The two of you leave your dorm twenty minutes later than you intended and it also didn’t help that Jaehyun’s apartment was difficult to find, tucked away in a small building between towering skyscrapers, but now is finally the moment of truth. 

“Yeah, I’m ready as I’ll ever be,” you mutter as you watch Yeri knock on the door. 

It takes a minute before the door creaks open and Jaehyun’s head pops out. His smile is radiant and you’re absolutely ensnared by the way his fringe falls over his forehead. 

“Hey, glad you two could make it.” Jaehyun opens the door wider to allow you and Yeri to enter. He greets Yeri with polite warmth while he wraps an arm over your shoulders. When Yeri heads in the apartment first with her back against the two of you, Jaehyun steals a quick peck to your temple and whispers, “you look pretty tonight.”

His touch is fleeting and he pulls back quickly, as if you imagined the whole thing, but his cheeky smile tells you that it really did happen. Your heart hammers and you force yourself to focus on the steady thrum of mellow R&B that reverberates throughout his apartment to calm yourself. You take his apartment in steady strides with your full attention. It’s sleek and modern with a few pops of his personality here and there in the form of trinkets decoration choices. 

“Hey!” Johnny calls over from the couch. He has a beer in hand, but he’s far from tipsy. Flanked on one side is Doyoung with another beer to match and on the other is Sicheng. Seulgi, the girl, who you assume is Sicheng’s significant other, by the way his arm is casually wrapped around her waist, is also there and she nods at you in greeting. You've come to know about all of them after hanging out with Jaehyun so much. “Did you guys get lost or something?” 

“Yeah,” Yeri replies as she moves to sit next to Mark who’s on the adjacent loveseat and resting a drink on the coffee table.  “Something like that.”  

She places a sweet kiss to the corner of Mark’s mouth in greeting and you swear you can hear him crooning at the attention. 

“Doesn’t matter, Johnny. The important thing is that they’re here now.” Jaehyun interjects. “Do you guys want anything to drink?”

“That’d be nice.” You hum.

Yeri laughs in agreement, “yeah, the two of us could never say no to a drink.”

“Alright, I’m on it.” Jaehyun calls while moving to the kitchen. “Any preferences?”

“No,” you say. “Surprise us.”

Jaehyun works to mix drinks and you take a seat on the floor next to the coffee table to observe the party. Perched on the shelf of a slender bookcase in the corner of his living room is a bluetooth speaker playing music, the rhythm quiet and bass steady as everyone chatters away once introductions are made on the sofas. You remember him offhandedly mentioning that he doesn’t want any noise complaints on his first week in the new place and it makes sense. Jaehyun’s housewarming party is a quiet affair that is far different from the wild party at the frat house in which you met him, but you think this vibe fits Jaehyun more.

Jaehyun returns shortly with two drinks in tow for you and Yeri and sits himself snugly next to you on the floor. He picks his idle beer from the coffee table and once Johnny realizes that everyone in the proximity has a drink in hand, he raises his voice and beer in a toast. “It sucks that Taeyong couldn’t make it tonight, but here’s to having fun without him. We’re gonna get twice as fucked up to make up for his absence, cheers!”

Everyone lets out a chuckle, but obliges to humor him anyway and joins to connect their drink to his in cheers. 

You pull your cup back and take a big gulp of the drink. It’s sweet and carbonated, but the sting of alcohol at your throat leaves you wincing just the slightest bit.

A few pleasantries are exchanged here and there, but it’s only then does Doyoung pull out a deck of cards with a devilish glint in his eyes that deceive his looks. 

“Ring of fire, anyone?”

--

After who knows how many rounds of ring of fire (and maybe a few other drinking games here and there) with too many drink refills for you to remember, you somehow find yourself splayed on the couch and leaning over Yeri’s shoulder in support. Seulgi is on the other side of you leaning on you for support, the same way you’re doing to Yeri, but you don’t mind it one bit. The three of you have grown surprisingly close with one another throughout the night.

Your mind is lucid enough to still be conscious and completely aware of where you are and what you’re doing, but the alcohol in your system eats away at the details in your memory. 

You vaguely recall ridiculous punishments that involved Johnny twerking on the dining room table and Mark taking a shot of Jack Daniels mixed with ketchup, and you can’t help but snicker to yourself. 

“I think we should get going now.” Sicheng is the first to speak as he moves to help Seulgi up. “It’s getting late.”

Doyoung looks a little groggy, but when he checks the time, he perks up immediately, “oh shit, you’re right. I need to get going too, I’ve got something in the morning.”

With that everyone shuffles to clean the remnants of the party with as much grace as they can muster while intoxicated, which wasn’t much, but in twenty minutes, Jaehyun is already walking half the party to the door in goodbye. Only you, Mark, and Yeri are left. 

“Hey Yeri,” Mark calls softly to Yeri as he brushes a strand of hair from her face. “Are you ready to go too?”

Yeri is still sprawled on the couch with you, but mumbles a small response. “Yeah, I should be. Give me a second.”

She turns over to you and nudges you just the slightest bit. “I’m gonna go back to Mark’s tonight, are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah,” you assure her. “I’ll be fine, just go have fun.”

“She’s free to rest here until she’s ready to leave, don’t worry. I’ll call a cab for her when the time comes.” Jaehyun pipes up. 

Yeri gives you a look, but you squeeze her hand one last time to give her some peace of mind. “I’m a big girl, Yeri. I’ll be okay, promise. I’ll walk you to the door, Mark’s waiting.”

You give Yeri a tight hug in goodbye and you find your way back to the couch. The fact that you’re all alone in Jaehyun’s apartment doesn’t hit because of the remnants of alcohol in your system melts away your nerves. 

You’re pleasantly buzzed, lost in your own thoughts when Jaehyun comes up to you with a glass of water in hand. “Here, so you don’t feel as bad tomorrow morning.”

You accept it gratefully and take in big gulps, the water refreshing, but your skin feels hot. 

Jaehyun takes a seat next to you and the proximity makes your head spin. You turn to look at him, and he flashes you a smile.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“You might’ve mentioned something.” You tease. “But I don’t mind hearing it again.”

“Well,” he hums. You’re not sure, but you think the distance between the two of you is decreasing. “You really do look stunning tonight.”

You flush at his words, but you look straight into his eyes. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“Yeah? I try to impress.” Jaehyun’s eyes are hooded and your throat goes dry. “Can I kiss you?”

You say nothing at first, his words not registering into your muddled brain, but when you feel his breath ghost over your lips, you don’t hesitate to close the gap between you. 

His lips are slightly chapped and you can taste the vodka on his breath, but to you it’s perfect. Jaehyun’s perfect.

Jaehyun kisses you with reserved passion and practiced expertise. His tongue sets the rhythm against yours and his roaming hands have you feeling as if you’ve been set ablaze. He pulls back just the tiniest bit and the intense longing for his touch that hits you is indescribable. 

You pull him back in your arms and your lips reconnect in a desperate fervor. Jaehyun adjusts his arms around you and the next you know, you’re in his embrace and he’s carrying you to his bedroom. He places you down gently, his bed is plush and comforter soft. 

Jaehyun’s touch is gentle as he gathers your face in his hands. He kisses you again and you wrap your arm around his neck to pull him closer. He pulls back and looks at you earnestly. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

Everything’s moving so fast and you’re dizzy, but you don’t want whatever this is to stop. You want to be as close to Jaehyun as possible.

“No,” your voice is hoarse. “Don’t stop. I want you, Jaehyun.”

He kisses you again, this time unrestrained. His tongue is hot, but you can only savor it for a minute before he starts trailing kisses down your neck and tugging at your shirt. You let out a breathy moan in response to how his touches make you feel. 

Jaehyun reaches at your shorts and makes quick work at unbuttoning them. You help him remove the article of clothing and his slender fingers dart inside your panties. You’re slick to the touch and Jaehyun must be made of magic because you think you’re seeing stars. You unravel before him embarrassingly quick, but he kisses you at the base of your clavicle in sweet reassurance. 

Your chest is heaving, but you want more. You grab at Jaehyun’s shirt, urging him to take it off. The expanse of his abdomen is a sight to behold, but Jaehyun is cruel and doesn’t give you the time to take it in. He’s on top of you again, lips crashing onto yours once more. He reaches behind you to unclasp your bra and while he’s pre-occupied, you unbuckle his belt and steal a moment in his boxers. He feels thick and hot in your hands as you run your finger over the tip to feel a drop of pre-cum. He buckles just the slightest bit and it emboldens you. 

Jaehyun helps himself out of his jeans and you push him onto the bed wanting to be on top this time. He’s straining against his boxers and you want to help relieve the tension. When you pull off his boxers you can feel his inaudible groan. You stroke his length gingerly and look up to see him with hooded eyes look right back at you. 

This excites you so you take him in your mouth in a moment of unfiltered courage. Your tongue starts at the base before tracing your way up to his sensitive head. You tease him accordingly to his quiet grunts and groans and when you feel like he’s had enough, you take all of him in until his tip is hitting the back of your throat. You gag a bit, but push through.

“Fuck,” Jaehyun stutters out between stacatoed breaths. “Babe, you’re so good.”

You hum in pleasure at his praise and he grabs your hair. This goes on for a few more minutes before he reaches down to stop you. “Not that I don’t love this,” the look in your eyes nearly has him faltering his words, “but I don’t want to cum just yet.”

You relent with a slick pop and Jaehyun shifts over to rummage for a condom in his nightstand. You settle back down in his pillows. Jaehyun gives you a soft kiss on the lips before he enters you. 

“Tell me when it’s okay to move,” he whispers and you place a small kiss at the base of his neck. 

He starts off slow to let you acclimate to his size, but neither of you are very patient, so he ends up pounding into you a lot sooner than he anticipated and you find yourself getting caught up in the pleasure.

It feels like you’re dreaming, but if this was a dream, you never want to wake up.

6. Hush by Miss A

shh, no talking, just us.

“I can’t think straight.”

You and Jaehyun don’t become official until a few weeks later. 

He asks you one day when you’re naked and out of breath. You’ve gone one too many rounds with him and a thin layer of sweat coats your body as you lay on his heaving chest. You absentmindedly draw shapes on his skin and he gives you a chaste kiss to your temple.

“We should date.” He hums. “I think I’d make a good boyfriend.”

“Yeah?” You raise your eyebrow in teasing.

“Yeah,” he ascertains. “Give me a chance and I’ll show you.”  

“Hmm,” you pretend to think it over as if this wasn’t you’ve been hoping for since the first moment you laid eyes on him. “Okay. Let’s give it a try, boyfriend.”

Jaehyun laughs and you feel the world fall into its right place. “Alright, girlfriend.”

And the rest is history as they say. 

Jaehyun isn’t your first, but you experience many firsts with him. You’re not exactly inexperienced, but he really opens your eyes.

“Fuck,” he groans into your neck. His hands grip at your hips to help guide you along, but you’re fully in charge. “You’re doing so good, babe. Just like that.” 

You didn’t see yourself as someone who liked to take charge during sex, but after that one time Jaehyun asked you to top, you’ve never looked back since. 

You roll hips into him and at a pace you know drives Jaehyun wild and you pull him into a sloppy kiss. It’s all tongue and no grace, but you love it the same regardless. You capture his bottom lips between your teeth playfully before pushing him flat on his back until he’s firm against his plush mattress. You place a hand on his chest and the other on his thigh to balance yourself and Jaehyun immediately knows you’re close. 

A hand rests on your hip to steady you while the other snakes over to play with your clit to further stimulate you toward your climax. Jaehyun knows what you like and his timing is impeccable, so before you know it, both of you are reaching your highs together. You collapse on his chest and you allow yourself to stay in his warmth long enough to have your breaths synchronize before you extricate yourself from him to head to his bathroom. 

When you come back out, he’s disposed of the used condom and opens your arm wide for a hug, which you gladly indulge in.

Time stops when you’re in his arms.

--

On the surface, it looks like Jaehyun likes to mix it up. He seems like  an elusive guy with varied tastes, but the more time you spend with him, you realize he likes the control of seeing you unravel before him.

He likes the intimacy of missionary. 

The close proximity to your body has him looking into your eyes and leaving you feeling the most vulnerable of ways. He has full access to your neck, which he lovingly claims as his own and you chide him the next day when you see scattered purple blooms. Jaehyun changes his pace on a whim and you fall to his mercy. When he takes you fast and hard, you see stars, but when thrusts in you with languid leisure, he has you begging for more. 

He likes the intensity of taking from behind. 

When you’re on your knees with your ass in the air, he takes it as a guarantee to fuck you senseless. Your muffled moans makes his dick twitch and you swear you can feel him fuck into you even faster. Jaehyun always makes sure to wrap his arms around you to finger your clit until you go into sensory overload and he doesn’t stop pounding into you until there are tears in your eyes. He kisses each one away before taking your lips in his and you can taste the salt water on his tongue.

He likes the dominance from eating you out.

He laps at your core like a starved man and makes good use of his adept fingers until your head is spinning. Jaehyun makes it a habit to eat you out until you’re satisfied before he gets his turn. When your thighs are on either side of his head and your hands tangled in his hair, he swears he can stay there forever.

Above all, Jaehyun just likes you. He likes being with you and he definitely likes fucking you and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

--

“Mmmh,” you breathe out.

Your back is flush against Jaehyun’s back as you rock your hips back and forth on his dick. You grind your ass back even harder when he pinches your nipple between his fingers. 

He kisses your shoulder blade from behind and bucks his hip upward to meet you in the middle. 

The afternoon sunlight is streaming in from the gaps of his blinds and you want to take it nice and slow today. The television in front of you is playing a movie, but you’re too enraptured by the feeling of him filling you to the brim to pay it any mind. 

“I love it when you’re on top, babe.” he hums as he plays with your clit. 

You let out another breathy groan before you can find the composure to bite back at him. “What happened to no sex today, hmm? I thought we were just going to have innocent quality time together and watch a movie.”

Jaehyun must’ve not liked your sass, so he bucks up harder. He’s telling you to pick up the pace and you oblige. Before you know, you’re practically bouncing on his dick and you can feel your impending high about to crash down on you. He can sense it too and maintains his tempo. When you cum, Jaehyun rides on the tail of your climax in pursuit of his own. He cums shortly after with stuttering hips and a bite on your shoulder. He gathers you in his arms and runs his tongue soothingly over where he bit you and the various love bites that he’s littered on the expanse of your skin. 

“Just being with you is quality time in itself.” He says. “Besides, class is starting soon, so I won’t get to see you as much.”

7. Disturbance by BoA

a ripple on the surface.

“I didn’t know at first.”

“So I do have a roommate after all,” Yeri’s voice calls out and you turn over to see her standing by the doorway. You roll your eyes at her, but quickly turn back to gather your things. 

She lets out a chuckle, but you don’t miss the sour edge to her tone. “I thought I got a single dorm since it’s so empty all the time.”

“You say that, Yeri,” you retort. “But I know you’re over at Mark’s constantly so I don’t wanna hear it from you.”

“Yeah, but I make time to come back here and I always let you know when I’m going out. I feel like I’ve only seen you maybe once or twice the past few months. I feel like the only reason I see you these days is ‘cause of classes.”

“You’re just exaggerating, don’t be so dramatic. Come on, let’s go. I don’t want to be late.”

She looks displeased, but nothing leaves her lips as the two of you head out for the day.

--

It’s late. 

When night falls, shadows come out to play and your college campus is riddled with them. The school auditorium is situated in the far corner of the campus and the lamp lights of the main walkways do little, but you pay it little mind. Jaehyun should be getting out soon.

It takes another ten minutes to see him emerge from the double doors and you perk up immediately at the sight of him. He looks a little shocked to see you, but greets you with a warm hug and small peck regardless. 

“Hey,” his voice is small, almost reserved. “What are you doing here? I thought I told you I was finishing late tonight.”

“Oh, you did, but I still wanted to see you.” You explain, eyes bright and tone undeterred.

“Not that I don’t appreciate it,” he licks his lip. “But it’s really late and I still have more stuff I need to work on. I’ll see you some other time, okay?”

“Oh, okay.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, babe. Next time.”

--

“Oh hey,” you smile, but Yeri’s fury is palpable and cuts through you.

“Don’t ‘oh hey’ me.” She spits out. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you answer your phone?”

Sheepish, you reply, “oh sorry. I forgot to fully charge it before leaving and Jaehyun and I have different phones, so I couldn’t charge it at his place.”

“You were at Jaehyun’s?” Yeri is glaring at you at this point and you feel a bit peeved. 

“Yeah. What of it?” 

Yeri’s been getting angry at you recently, losing her temper at the drop of a hat, and you can’t seem to pinpoint why. You’re getting tired of being her punching bag. 

“We made plans to go shop for Seulgi’s gift today. You promised you’d be there, don’t you remember?”

“Oh shit.” It completely slips from your mind and you open your mouth to apologize, but Yeri cuts you off before you get the chance.

“Forget it. I don’t want to hear it. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Yeri turns to leave before you can say anything back.

8. Symptoms by SHINee

something’s wrong.

“The worse it gets, the more exhausted I get.”

Jaehyun feels off.

He can’t pinpoint exactly what he is that he’s feeling, but he thinks it’s reminiscent of his world being tilted by six degrees. It’s not immediately jarring and takes little time for his eyes to register, but he’ll occasionally bump his toe, signalling that this isn’t right. Things aren’t where they’re supposed to be. His head spins just the slightest bit and he feels woozy, but he doesn’t know why.

Jaehyun just feels off.

--

Jaehyun checks the bulletin board of his school auditorium almost religiously. 

Each time before and after class, he’ll swing by and peruse the flyers that hang from haphazardly stuck on pins. He ignores the tutoring offers and the part time jobs scams, his main focus is almost always on the center of the board where they post the upcoming musical theatre production and eventually, the cast list. 

This semester, the chosen production is La La Land and Jaehyun has been dead set on landing the role of Sebastian Wilder. He stays back extra late each day to practice the script and to work on his singing and annunciation. 

On the day of the audition, he’s sure he’s nailed it and thinks to himself the world must be ending if he weren’t to get the leading role. 

When he leaves the auditorium in a rush, excitement flows through his veins and he drinks in the night air as a toast of victory. He’s tipsy on his excitement and wants to laugh out loud, but in the corner of his vision, he sees you. Your eyes light up the sight up, outshining the moon and the stars, but your visage does not elicit the reaction he thinks it should. He expects his heart to swell and burst, but somehow he feels heavy. 

He pulls you in for a hug and a quick kiss to quell his weighted heart, but he thinks he’s starting to sink so he calls you off for the night. He’ll see you next time. 

Yeah, next time will be better.

--

You’re snuggled up close and personal on Jaehyun’s chest. Jaehyun notices you fill every nook and cranny of his being perfectly to a tee, and yet that feeling. It’s there again. 

Jaehyun feels off. 

You laugh at something one of the characters say and you cuddle harder into him. He feels heavy again and it makes his throat itch, so he swoops down and captures your lips.

It’s hard and fast to scrub away at his uneasiness and before he knows it, his clothes are missing, but so are yours. The foreplay is brief and almost impersonal, but he doesn’t care. He just needs to be inside you. 

When Jaehyun has you begging and writhing, he feels like the world is where it should be. No longer is he living at a slight angle when he’s buried to the hilt inside your warmth, so when he sees you, he does what he can to get you out of your pants. 

Today is no different from any other. 

After a satisfying session you roll on his chest. Your kiss is soft and sweet despite the sweat that covers both of your bodies. He hums quietly as he taps melodies on along your exposed spine.

“Jaehyun?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I love you.”

Ah. Jaehyun thinks he’s getting it now, why he’s feeling off.

Jaehyun thinks he’s being suffocated.

--

To the surprise of no one, and especially not to him, Jaehyun gets the leading role of Sebastian Wilder in La La Land. He was a shoe-in for it anyway and he made sure to put in the work to get it. 

His leading lady is someone by the name of Park Sooyoung, but at the first rehearsal she introduces herself as Joy.

“It’s nice to meet you.” She offers her hand out in a friendly greeting. “Here’s to a successful show together, Jaehyun.”

Her smile is blinding and he thinks Joy is a fitting name. He grasps her outstretched hand, grip firm and sure. 

“Yeah,” he smiles back. “Here’s to a good show together.”

--

Rehearsals span over blurred minutes and long hours. 

Jaehyun sees less and less of you and spends more and more time with her. 

During a quick water break, he scans his phone briefly to see a text notification from you. He takes another swig of water and returns to the rehearsal.

It’s okay, he can always text you back later.

9. Before U Go - TVXQ!

letting go.

“I will leave now.”

“Come on!” You tug both Mark and Yeri along excitedly. “I want to get good seats.”

Yeri rolls her eyes, but obliges anyway, pulling Mark along. It’s opening night for Jaehyun’s big musical and you wanted to be there no matter what to support him. Johnny, Doyoung, Taeyong, Sicheng, and Seulgi are already inside waiting and you’re not sure if they were able to save the three of you a spot. 

After a long chat with Yeri, you apologized profusely to her. You did get blinded by your relationship with him and prioritized him over everything, forgetting your friends and other responsibilities in the process. Yeri forgave you easily and helped keep you in line when you went to head over heels for Jaehyun. 

However, after patching things up with Yeri, you begin to notice a shift in your relationship with Jaehyun’s. You’re not quite sure how to describe it, but it almost feels like a distance almost. 

You chalk it up to his busy rehearsal schedule and choose not to dwell on the topic, in fears of your wandering imagination. It should be fine. After his musical is over, he’ll be less busy and things will fall back into place. 

Right?

“Over here!” Seulgi waves over excitedly. 

The auditorium is starting to fill up and you want to get comfortable before the show starts. 

Everyone greets each other in hushed tones and soon enough, the show starts. 

Right. Everything will be fine.

--

Jaehyun does amazing. 

Your eyes are trained on him the whole time and his singing has goosebumps pricking your skin. You can see the passion pour through him every time he’s on stage and you couldn’t be more proud. 

A nagging feeling at the pit of your stomach points out the undeniable chemistry between him and his co-star, but you push it deep down and suppress it. 

They’re actors, and they’re good at what they do. 

Yeah. They’re just acting. Yeah. Acting.

--

When the curtains close, you’re the first to shoot out of your seat, eager to meet him backstage. You weave through the endless crowd of people, murmuring your ‘sorry’s’ and ‘excuse me’s’ as you pass by. You reach the base of the backstage and shoot a message to let him know you’re waiting. You hum to yourself when you happen to overhear a conversation playing out. 

“You did so good, Jae.” 

“No, you definitely carried the show.” 

You turn up and you see them. Her eyes are almost soft and loving as she pulls your boyfriend in for a hug. They linger in the embrace longer than necessary and you clear your throat to catch his attention. 

He jolts just the slightest bit when he sees you and immediately lets her go. 

“Everyone’s waiting,” you say quietly. 

“Okay,” he nods. “Let me go get my stuff in the back.”

Jaehyun leaves the two of you alone and you wait for him to get back. 

When you leave, he waves goodbye to her and she smiles back.

--

Jaehyun’s celebration party is rowdy, but it’s to be expected when Johnny is the one hosting. 

He books a table at the local club and even orders bottle service. The eight of you work your way through two whole bottles of tequila and are already on your third. Jaehyun is downing the shots at a quicker pace than usual and you’re a bit concerned, but you’re unable to say anything because when you try, he whisks himself away to the dance floor and strikes up a conversation with someone else. 

You’re perturbed, but you say nothing. This is his celebration night and he can choose to enjoy it how he wishes. 

By the end of the night, Jaehyun is noticeably drunk and you haul him outside to get a breath of fresh air in hopes of sobering up. He’s heavy, but you make it out the side door. You prop him up on your side as you lean on the grimy brick walls. 

Months have passed and the weather is chilly. 

Jaehyun’s body sways and he murmurs something in your ear. You don’t catch it the first time, the overwhelming smell of tequila overtaking your senses. 

“What was that?”

He grumbles beneath his breath, steps staggering once more. He tries again, this time his words are crisp and clear and they cut into you in more ways than one. 

“I think we should end it.”

For someone so drunk, he sounds so sober.

You’re at a loss for words. A part of you knew this was coming from his lack of enthusiasm around you and his decreased texts. Even the cold night air couldn’t keep your heartbreak at bay. You say nothing, but you understand the both of you knew it was a silent agreement.

You breathe out wisps of chilled air as Jaehyun’s inebriated body stays slumped over on your side. 

--

You volunteer to take Jaehyun home.

You tuck him gently in bed making sure to prop him on his side in case he vomits during the night. You pour a glass of water and place an ibuprofen on his nightstand drawer for him in the morning. 

You kiss him on the forehead one last time. You hope it conveys all of the things brewing in your heart at the moment, but you know it doesn’t. 

Later, you leave his apartment with all of your belongings that you ever left there with the stars as your witness. 

You never return to his place again.

10. Coffee Shop by B.A.P

what could’ve been.

“So without knowing, like a habit, I came here.”

Jaehyun wakes up to an empty bed.

Morning sunlight streams through his blinds and burns at his skin as a sign to get ready for the day. He blinks the drowsiness from his system and stretches his weary joints before heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day. 

On his rare day offs, he allows his body to go on auto-pilot. He completely shuts his brain off and allows it to do whatever it chooses.

Today, it takes him back to the cafe. 

His body knows where it’s going before it registers in his mind. 

The barista manning the order counter is different, but the decorations are the same, still the same succulents hanging from the ceilings. He mulls over the menu and goes up to order.

“Can I get an iced caramel latte?” Jaehyun doesn’t have much of a sweet tooth, but he’s feeling nostalgic today. 

“Of course! Here’s your total.” 

He pays with a swipe of his card and the barista goes to work making his drink. He waits around by the counter and soon enough, his drink is ready. That particular table is empty, so he grabs a chair to sit. His first sip is overly saccharine, but he appreciates how the flavor mellows out by the end of it. 

It’s been nearly a year since that night. 

Jaehyun remembers waking up to a splitting headache and a dry mouth. He thought nothing of the prepared setup as he gulps the ibuprofen and the glass of water in one go. Nothing seemed amiss really until a few days later. 

No one mentioned your name around him and he caught Seulgi giving him a look every now and then. Mark didn’t say much either, but Jaehyun felt him drifting away.

He thought he’d feel a lot more, but he didn’t. One day you were a part of his life and then the next day you weren’t. It really was that simple.

He kept in contact with Joy even after La La Land was over and maybe they were something more, but it didn’t last longer than a few weeks. 

It didn’t feel right when he was with her. Again, something felt off, but a different kind of off.

Joy was the one to end things with him, but he didn’t mind too much. 

He filled his days with study and practice and it wasn’t until he landed a job at his local theatre company that he realized.

It was you. It was always you and perhaps it still is you. 

Maybe you were different. Maybe you were the one, but Jaehyun didn’t try.

He recalls feeling smothered. You were always there at the beginning, but he took that for granted. 

There are a lot of things he regrets, but above all, he regrets not talking with you. He regrets not trying to work on it. He regrets being a coward and running away at the first signs of true emotions. 

You weren’t perfect, but neither was he, but he should’ve stayed so the both of you could work it out together. Jaehyun always did take too long to find the courage to pursue what he wanted.

With a final sip, he finishes the drink and moves to throw it away. Then, he sees you. Here, in the flesh, in almost a year. 

Your hair is longer, but your cheeks are still as rosy as ever. You walk up to order and Jaehyun thinks it��s a sign. He moves to greet you, but the doors open again and in walk Yeri and Seulgi. He watches you greet them warmly with wide open arms. 

You always did give the best hugs.

Jaehyun watches the three of you chatter away and he feels acutely out of place in the little cafe. You look happy and he should move on. 

He throws his finished cup in the trash can and moves to exit through the side door, but he moves too slowly.

“Jaehyun, is that you?” You call out. He looks into your steady gaze and almost feels shy. 

“Yeah,” he’s quiet. “It’s been awhile.”

“It has,” you agree. “You look well.”

The smile you give him has him believing in second chances and maybe he’ll get it right this time.

Note: i am so sorry that the second part is a hot mess express smh… there were a lot of things i planned and intended that didn’t happen, but i’ll just take this as a learning experience and write and better story next time. thanks for taking the time to read this !! <3

masterlist.

[duskholland]

Y/n has a disagreement with frat!tom, she drowns her sorrows and then frat!tom takes care of drunk y/n

ah...a classic. cw: alcohol + angst w a happy end. pls don’t do this irl--communication is key in any balanced relationship! don’t drown your sorrows <3

frat!tom night !!

*:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

Tom: I’m sorry Tom: I didn’t mean to upset you Tom: can you just text me back Tom: please

You drag your index finger over the lock-screen of your phone, giggling slightly as you watch Tom’s texts wobble. Your eyes are tired and unfocused, your head spinning, and your objective of getting absolutely hammered has been well and truly achieved. You’d surpassed your limits an hour ago, if you’re being honest with yourself, but your bottle of tequila had been calling your name, and now you’re out of your mind. You’re just glad that your roommate is at her boyfriend’s for the night so she doesn’t have to witness your heartbroken breakdown.

Another two texts bumps up to the top of the screen, startling you.

Tom: I’m worried about you Tom: can you just let me know that you’re okay?

You sigh loudly, then begrudgingly pick up your phone. You open the texts sent from Tom, your boyfriend — or, ex-boyfriend…? — and read over them again, eyes hazy. You decide not to reply, and to instead leave him on read, because what else are you supposed to do?

With a heavy sigh, you lie back on the floor and stare at the ceiling of your dorm. You groan as you think over the events of the day again, your mind heavy and lethargic.

It’d been a stupid argument with Tom, about god knows what. Spring break, you think. He’d changed his mind last minute, and instead of going to Mexico with you and a few friends, he now wants to go back to London to spend time with his family. He also wants you to go back with him, to meet his parents and his brothers, and, in typical Tom fashion, had failed to mention that he’d changed your flights on your behalf.

It doesn’t matter now. All that matters is you’d spent a very unpleasant thirty minutes at the frat house earlier, exchanging sour words of disapproval with your boyfriend, who couldn’t be bothered to hear your side of the story. You’d ran away when you’d realised you were just going in circles, and now you’re here: red-eyed, drunk, and alone. The realisation makes you hiccup, and you feel your eyes well up again.

There’s a loud knock at the door, and you startle.

“Fuck,” you mutter, quickly standing up. You toss the bottle of alcohol under a blanket and wipe at your eyes, cursing yourself for looking like such a mess. You hope it’s just a neighbour, concerned about the breakup song playlists and the loud volume of your crying, and not an RA about to bust you for possession of alcohol in a college dorm.

It turns out to be neither, and you scowl as you open the door just to see Tom standing beyond it. His eyes snap up, his expression springing into one of surprise as if he hadn’t expected you to open the door. There’s a light blue beanie sitting on his head, but he whips it off and holds it between his hands as he rocks back on his feet and swallows

“Y/N…. Look, I’m so sorry.” He looks so small, with his figure covered in grey sweats and a white t-shirt. He has a red jacket shrugged over the top too, but his posture is slumped and diminished. His eyes are pink. “I was such a twat. I don’t want us to break up over this, and I don’t want you to hate me, either. I’m sorry.” His gaze narrows as his eyes twist over your figure. “Wait, are you drunk?”

Your eyes bulge, and you instinctively reach out to grab his arm. You jerk him into your room, chastising him in a loud whisper about the presence of your pesky RAs, and then you lean back against the door, facing the main body of the room where Tom’s now pacing.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you manage, tongue feeling thick in your mouth.

Tom finds the bottle of tequila you’d thrown in your bed as he straightens up the duvet, turning on you with a frown on your face.

“You shouldn’t be drinking on a Tuesday night,” he mutters. “Is this my fault?”

You shrug. “No,” you say. “Pretty sure I’m the one who did the drinking.”

Tom winces, then slowly takes off his jacket. He approaches you gently, extending two hands towards you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice exhausted. You hate how heartbroken he looks, so you reach out and join together your fingers, pulling him a little closer. Tom walks all the way to you, folding into you until he’s squeezing your hands and has his forehead pressed against yours. “I’m sorry for being a dick, and not speaking to you about spring break first.” His thumbs run over the backs of your hands. “And I’m also sorry for being a twat and not listening to you properly.”

You have to close your eyes, finding it too hard to focus on his face when it’s pushed so near to you.

“I’m too drunk to have this conversation with you,” you mutter. You drop one of his hands and feel him freeze before you shift it up to his hair. You’re quiet as you play around with his brown curls, finding comfort in the familiar softness. “I’m sorry too, though. I feel like shit. I shouldn’t have been so angry about it all…” You break off, feeling your eyes water as your voice thickens. It’s just a whisper as you add, softer, “I don’t want to lose you over this, Tom.”

He pulls back, and you’re able to meet his eyes as he reaches up to cup your warm cheeks in his hands. You aren’t angry anymore—now that he’s here, looking at you so softly, you just want to move on and fall straight back into his arms.

“You’re not losing me, darling. You could never lose me,” he murmurs. He leans in and kisses your forehead softly, letting his lips linger there for a moment. “Let’s get you in bed, yeah?”

You nod. “Okay,” you agree, suddenly feeling very attached to the idea of curling up beneath the covers and sleeping.

“Wait, wait.” Tom’s gentle hold on your waist makes you stop. “Bathroom first. You’ve still got makeup on.”

You pout as you coo, nodding. “Can you take it off for me?”

“Of course, love.”

You’re glad for the en-suite in your room. Despite it being a tight fit, Tom’s able to come in with you. He sits you on the closed toilet seat and tenderly dabs at your face, stripping back the smudged makeup as he cracks a few light jokes and murmurs soft words of praise. He watches as you brush your teeth, standing behind you with his arms wrapped around your front, lips brushing over your neck in featherlight kisses as he meets your eyes in the mirror and your heart flutters in your chest. Despite your complaints, he even convinces you to down two glasses of water.

“Aren’t you getting in too?” You whine. He’s standing beside your single bed, hands on the top of the duvet as he finishes tucking you in. You do your best to look innocent and fragile, blinking up at him through wide eyes. “It’s cold…”

Tom hesitates.

“Do you want me to?” He asks. When you nod your head enthusiastically, he smiles softly. “I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow morning and realise that it’s not what you wanted.”

You shake your head. “I won’t,” you say, knowing it to be true. “Just… if you’re worried about overstepping, don’t kiss me or anything. I won’t be mad if you sleep here.”

He smiles as if he finds the compromise agreeable, then kicks off his shoes and pulls off his shirt. You try to wolf whistle, only for the sound to come out flat and failed, and he laughs loudly.

“Did you just try to whistle at me?” He teases.

“No.”

“Are you lying?”

“Maybe.”

Tom slips into bed beside you. It’s a tight fit, but you’ve spent enough nights together on your single mattress to know exactly what you have to do. You don’t hesitate to curl into his side, throwing a leg over his body as you rest your face against his arm and press your hand to his chest. Tom reaches over and flicks off the lamp before wrapping his arms around you, holding you close.

“I love you,” he says, the moment it’s dark and you’re both settled. “I love you so much, baby.”

You coo, unable to control the unruly smile that tugs at your lips.

“Love you too, Tom,” you murmur. “You’re so warm.”

He chuckles, light fingers rubbing circles over the top of your arm. “And you’re just lovely.”

You melt, burrowing your head further into his side. Beneath your palm, you can feel his heartbeat, pulsing gently.

“You know, the only reason I was so mad earlier was because I was scared of meeting your parents,” you admit, voice soft. “It’s not because I don’t want to spend time with you, Tommy. I do. All the time. But it’s scary to think about how I could do something to fuck this up. It’s scary sometimes... to think about how much I love you.”

You feel his lips touch the top of your head.

“Do you want to know a secret?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m scared too. That’s why I changed the flights without speaking to you. I was scared you wouldn’t want to come with me and take the next step with me.” Tom breaks off, sighing. “I’m a fucking idiot, though. Still should’ve spoken to you about it.”

You hum gently. “As long as you look after me, and make sure I’m okay, then I’d love to come and meet your family.” You tilt your face up and lean closer until you’re able to deposit a clumsy kiss to his sharp jaw.

“Of course I’d look after you,” Tom assures. “But you don’t need to be scared. They’ll love you, because I love you, and I think you’re the most wonderful person in the world, Y/N.”

You curl in closer, stifling a yawn. “Love you too.”

“Precious,” he mumbles. You feel him urge you nearer, warm kisses falling over your head again and again. “Go to sleep, babe,” he urges. “I’ve got you.”

You sigh contentedly. “Will you still be here in the morning?” You whisper, relaxing fully into his hold.

“‘Course. I’ll even get you breakfast.”

You smile against his chest. “Fuck yeah,” you murmur. “G’night.”

“Night, princess.” Tom rests a hand on your arm, and you sink into it. “Sweet dreams.”

[koalataeil]

tipsy (poly!norenmin x markhyuck)

(hard to find such a specific gif ya know)

pairing: mark x renjun x jeno x jaemin x haechan x reader

words: 1.4k

genre: fluff

request: mark, renjun, jeno, jaemin, haechan, and reader fluff

summary: what better way to congratulate your hard working boyfriends than to invite them over for wine and dinner.

warnings: drinking

Soft music played out of your speaker as you cleaned up your kitchen and living room. You’d already gotten everything set up and were just waiting for your boyfriends and the food delivery to arrive. You hummed to the song, wiping down your coffee table. The playlist had been made for you by an old friend, and you put it on whenever it felt right.

Your doorbell rang before you hurried over, grabbing the food from the delivery person, mumbling a quick thank you. You opened the bag of food, placing each item where each of your boyfriends and you sat. Once you took a final look at the table, set up with enough plates, chopsticks, spoons, napkins, wine glasses, and finally, the food. You reached for your phone in your pocket, checking the time and seeing if you’d missed any messages.

Mark: We’ll be there in a couple minutes.

You smiled to yourself before checking yourself out in a nearby mirror, making sure you looked lovely. Even though you knew your boyfriends would be wearing sweatpants or gym shorts, you still wanted to look nice for them. It’d been so long since you’ve seen each other at this point and tonight was about all their hard work.

They’d been promoting for their comeback, spending days working on the dance, filming, and appearing on various shows. This comeback was successful, and they’d even won a couple music show awards. They’d worked so hard, and you wanted to congratulate them and help them relax.

A knock was heard on your door, causing you to grin and rush to the door. “Y/N!” Haechan started, quickly pulling you into a hug. He kissed the side of your head before releasing you from his grip, knowing he would be yelled at if he kept it up too much longer.

Each of your boyfriends entered, giving you quick hugs, kisses, and compliments before they took a seat at the set dining table. You’d half expected them to have already started eating by the time your last boyfriend, Jaemin, had walked through the door. However, they were all waiting patiently for you to sit at the table with them.

“Dig in! I don’t want it to get cold,” you stated with a chuckle. They each quickly started eating, likely their first meal in many hours as they’d finished some final meetings before their official break.

Your apartment, initially quiet with the sound of your movements, humming, and the soft music playing in the background, was now booming with sound. Before you took your own seat, you slipped into the kitchen to grab the wine you’d bought for tonight, three bottles of various flavors.

“Don’t forget some wine,” you sang, setting the bottles in the middle of the table.

“You even got us wine? I love you!” Renjun confessed, reaching for a bottle and pouring himself a glass.

“Of course! You worked so hard and I wanted to congratulate you on your wins.” You blushed lightly.

“What did we ever do to deserve you, Y/N?” Jeno asked rhetorically, pouring himself a glass. You grinned, finding your own seat between Jaemin and Mark.

As you started to eat, everyone had some wine in their glass and was just as talkative as before. Usually, the boys would be much quieter as they were exhausted from work, but they were too happy with the food and wine.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

After you’d all finished your food and had a couple glasses of wine, the apartment was quiet again, reminding you that you’d left your music on. Head a little tipsy from the alcohol, you stood up, slowly moving your body with the music. You smiled and blushed but continued anyway.

After about a minute, you turned back to the table and grabbed Renjun’s hand. He got the hint quickly, standing up and joining you with the dance. He kept you close and let you twirl around his finger, following your lead. You could feel the other guys’ eyes on you two as you finished the song with a quick kiss. You couldn’t help but giggle happily before returning to the table for your next victims.

Mark and Haechan had been talking to each other quietly, which immediately called out to you. Reaching down, you grabbed one of each of their hands and pulled them away from the table. You brought them over to where Renjun had already started dancing to the next song, starting to dance between Mark and Haechan. They both quickly joined you, even bringing Renjun closer to your little huddle. Small laughs could be heard over the soft music as you lip-synced.

As the bridge of the song started, you returned to the table one last time. “Jaemin, Jeno, come dance,” you’re voice slurring ever so slightly. The two men looked at each other before following your command, joining the rest of you dancing.

The songs continued their slow pace, allowing you all to calmly move your bodies to the beat. At one point, Renjun even got Mark to do a dip, immediately getting the rest of your attention. You clapped while Jaemin cheered.

As you started to get tired and the alcohol’s effect wore off, you took a seat on the couch with another glass of wine. You sipped on it periodically as you watched your boyfriends dancing and giggling with each other.

But the exhaustion caught up with them quickly from their overworked weeks, and they joined you in the living room, sitting on the couch or floor. You retrieved the rest of the wine and some glasses, returning to the couch and pouring everyone one last glass.

“Did you have fun?” you asked softly, settling between Jeno and Haechan.

Mark and Jaemin nodded, finishing the rest of their glasses. Jaemin rested his head on Mark’s shoulder, closing his eyes. Mark titled his own head, leaning against Jaemin’s.

Renjun, who was seated on the floor by Jeno’s legs, also rested his head on Jeno’s leg, sipping absentmindedly.

The music still continued to play quietly as everyone relaxed and rested. Once you finished your own glass, you stood, deciding to clean everything up. You retrieved the empty wine glasses on the coffee table and set them on the kitchen counter near the sink. To your surprise, Haechan was already at the table, starting to help you clean everything up.

“Haechan, you don’t have to help me. Go rest.”

He simply shook his head, continuing to stack the plates. “I wanna help.” You gave him a weird look, which made him lightly hit your arm. “Don’t look at me like that. Can’t I help my partner clean up?”

You pulled your hands up defensively, laughing softly. “Sorry, just didn’t expect this.” You started grabbing all the chopsticks and spoons.

With Haechan’s help, you’d cleaned up everything a lot faster. He surprised you even further, though, when he helped you do the dishes. You’d remained skeptical of his intentions but let him help you anyway. As he dried the last plate and set it back in the cabinet, he smirked.

“Why are you smirking?” you asked carefully.

“No reason,” he said, kissing you quickly. “I just love you.”

“I love you too.”

He smiled, leading you back out to the living room. Taking a look around, you noticed the rest of them were all sound asleep, leaning on or cuddling each other. Your chest felt heavy as you noticed each of them. “Should we wake them up?” Haechan asked from beside you.

You shook your head, “They seem comfortable. Plus, we won’t all fit in my bed, so now there won’t be any fighting.” Haechan chuckled and watched as you grabbed a few blankets from your bedroom. You covered each of your sleeping boyfriends’ bodies, smiling to yourself. You then turned off the lights before heading back to your bedroom.

Haechan followed you, quickly getting comfortable on your bed. You changed out of your clothes and into something more comfortable before joining Haechan in bed. You curled up against him, already feeling like you would fall asleep any minute.

Haechan smiled to himself, “This is why I helped you,” he whispered.

You playfully hit his abdomen, “You sneaky shit.”

You couldn’t blame him, though. Deciding who would sleep where in your small apartment was something that always took a long time and ended in frustration. Having it all end up so easily was a nice break for you. Although, you’d probably hear some complaining from Renjun and Mark in the morning. You would worry about that when you woke up, though, fully content and comfortable in bed with one of your boyfriends.

[teabookgremlin]

jackie x shauna playlist by me

it’s on apple music and i’m struggling to share it but here’s a list of songs and why. anyway this will be a hella long post bc i’m emotional and thinking about my girlies at 11 at night. i also have a tai x van playlist and a general yellowjackets playlist so i might do this for those at some point cause i like to talk lol

supercut by lorde: ok so the “in my head i do everything right/when you call we forgive and not fight” bit is like, yep that’s it. shauna spends her entire adult life in her head, wishing to redo their fight. also instagram user shipmvn made a FANTASTIC edit to this song you should go watch it (they actually led me to a fair amount of songs on this playlist)

the night we met by lord huron: “i had all of you, most of you, some and now none of you” thats it. that’s them

boyfriend by dove cameron: this song doesn’t entirely fit but like they would be better partners to each other than jeff was to either of them and also maybe if shauna had just realized she was in love with jackie they’d be alright

all too well (ten minute version) by taylor swift: “i still remember the first fall of snow/and how it glistened as it fell/i remember it all too well” this line just yeah, jackie died in the first fall of snow, shauna remembers everything about jackie and their relationship all too well

back to december by taylor swift: a song about feeling regret over lost love also again with the winter themes

ribs by lorde: the nostalgia, wishing to be back in childhood, when things were easier. i feel like some of the repeated lines are things that would run through shauna’s mind (or even jackie’s before her death) i.e. “i want ‘em back, i want ‘em back/the minds we had, the minds we had”

hurts like hell by fleurie: obviously lost love again, but there’s also a wish to keep the singer’s true feelings secret, as jackie and shauna did

how i get myself killed by indigo de souza: i feel like this song really represents jackie’s mental state as she falls apart especially after finding out about shauna and jeff

only love can hurt like this by paloma faith: i can see jackie’s death being the thing that makes shauna realize her true feelings for her

only friend by wallows: jackie just wants shauna to love her and care for her as much as she does her :(

haunted by taylor swift: not too deep here, just shauna being haunted by jackie 

i went too far by aurora: i think the idea of begging for love really fits jackie and shauna’s situation, then the loss felt in the song suits post-jackie popsicle

cigarette daydreams by cage the elephant: honestly just the line “you were only 17″ is just yeah “we were kids and it was awful”

little talks by of monsters and men: the artists describe this song as a conversation between someone and a dead loved one and i think that it just suits these girlies pretty well

cartwheel by lucy dacus: see the whole bit after “when you told me bout your first time”. it’s them, it’s literally them

seven by taylor swift: missing childhood innocence and love

prom queen by molly kate kestner: god save jackie [the prom queen]

that way by tate mcrae: thinking about the scene at the pep rally, yeah friends definitely don’t look at friends that way

one last time, please by dodie: shauna desperately wanting another chance, just one more night to make up, to tell jackie how she feels, to apologize

my tears ricochet by taylor swift: i picture this as being from dead jackie’s perspective, watching shauna deal with the grief

codependency by orla gartland: idk i just feel like it really represents why shauna started to resent jackie

i love you so by the walters: another fairly self explanatory one, i view it as a conversation between shauna and ghost jackie

visions of gideon by sufjan stevens: shauna kind of coming to a realization of exactly what she’s done, that jackie is gone and that it’s partially her fault

hard feelings/loveless by lorde: another lost love song full of regret and pain and wishing for a way to repair what was broken

older by gracie abrams: probably kind of in the woods, as they drift apart

your graduation by modern baseball: “i never though that i, oh i would see that day/when i’d just let you fo and walk away, walk away”

the way i loved you by taylor swift: adult shauna feeling unsatisfied with jeff and wishing that, despite the nature of her and jackie’s relationship, that she could go back to that and go back to it in a romantic sense

arms unfolding by dodie: so this reminds me of jackie’s dream as she dies

i’m trying by maisie peters: everything about their relationship is awful but jackie wants so badly to make it work and just i wanna scream

right where you left me by taylor swift: jackie is literally the girl who got frozen

this is not every song on the playlist just the ones i felt like talking about but yeah if anyone read this whole thing maybe you enjoyed it, idk i just wanted to get my thoughts out

[chokiipng]

when you feel like the world is crashing down on you : fushiguro megumi

Hina/n : i’ve been feeling pretty down, and megumi (and xiao from genshin impact) seems to be my only source of joy at this point, so let’s make ourselves feel better, yes?

characters: fushiguro megumi

contents: megumi helping you through one of you’re more depressing moods

warnings: feelings of depression & anxiety, teeth rotting megumi fluff

usually, when megumi came back from a mission, he would find you and complain about the task his annoying teacher gave him, which would then lead to the both of you sleeping soundly somewhere in your room. he found solace in the comforting silence, despite not always sleeping on your bed. he was too exhausted to move, so he took what he could get.

after a particularly troublesome mission, in which he met his brand new classmate and an overpowered demon king, he quickly made his way towards your room after his injuries were taken care of.

however, when he tried to welcome himself into your dorm, he found that the door was locked. that was the first sign. you never locked your door, knowing that he would visit frequently to spend time with the only person he could really tolerate, ignoring the possibility that gojo or one of the second years could just as likely barge in.

he rapped his knuckles against the door, “(y/n)? it’s me.”

when he only received silence as a response, he knocked again but with a little more force.

again, he didn’t get a response. pressing his ear against the door, he recognized the songs playing in the background as the ones on their collaborative playlist and noticed the faint sniffling almost drowned out by the music.

in a fit of concern, he picked up his key to her dorm from his room across from hers. “i’m going to come in, okay?” he carefully opened the door, finding his girlfriend lying on her side, softly singing the lyrics to the song in a broken voice,

he wasn’t familiar with affection, despite being in a relationship with her. but after knowing her for a few years, he realized that it was okay and that she really just needed him to be himself around her. she didn’t force him into anything, which he appreciated greatly. 

but it was at times like these where he willingly made himself more affectionate for her. of course, that really only meant cuddling with her in bed, but it seemed to be plenty.

taking his usual place behind her, assuming the role of big spoon, he wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his head in her hair. his hands, rough and calloused from years of training as a jujutsu sorcerer and beating the shit out of middle school bullies, cradled her own that were surprisingly soft for a fellow sorcerer. 

his chest rumbled as he hummed with her, knowing the tune of the song well after hearing it so many times. finally snapping out of her trance, she blinked a bit before moving further into his embrace.

“did something happen today?” he asked softly, his voice low and gentle as to not scare her.

she shook her head, “no, it’s me overthinking again. it’s honestly nothing.”

“it’s not nothing if you’re crying about it. tell me what happened.”

she sighed, silence was useless. the two usually confronted each other in times of doubt and need, so nothing went unanswered. she pointed to  her phone on his side of the bed. briefly leaning over to grab it, he opened it, smiling at the sight of the two of them and his divine dogs as her homescreen. 

“check my messages,” she instructed.

he did so, furrowing his brows in confusion. everything was normal. he was her pinned conversation and her most recent, which wasn’t new. he also found that she had also recently texted gojo, their teacher, about souvenirs, principal yaga, and even nanami-san that she occasionally went on mission with. the second years were currently out on missions, so it made sense that she hadn’t messaged them in a while.

“what’s the problem?” he asked bluntly. he didn’t understand what was wrong and he knew she would clear his confusion.

grabbing his hands with her own, fiddling with them, she said, “it’s just- i think-” she struggled to find the words, “i think hina and aiko are ghosting me.”

“what?”

“megumi, they haven’t texted me in three months. before we graduated middle school, they promised that they would stay in touch. you knew how close we were.”

he hummed in agreement.

“i think i’m just annoying them at this point, they haven’t answered any of my texts, and if they do they’re really fucking dry, and ignore all my calls. they never did before! maybe i’m just being too clingy. i’m probably annoying them. no wonder, i even annoy myself sometimes.”

panicking slightly, you began to hyperventilate. spewing out words at the speed of light as you tried to calm yourself. turning you so that you were facing him, he held the back of your head and pushed you into his chest. listening to his heart beat, you slowly calmed down, attempting to match you breathing patterns with him. your tears fell freely, dampening his shirt.

he pet you head, running his long finger through your hair. he hushed you gently as you continued to cry silently into his chest there were no words needed at the moment. comfort wasn’t always found in positive words between the two of you. you both recognized that sugar coating your comfort would prove to be fruitless later, so you found that it was better to just remain silent.

after a few minutes, he began to speak again, “your crying so much that i can barely recognize you.” he jested.

you scoffed, “thanks, very comforting meg.”

he chuckled lowly, “it’s true. the (y/n) i know would never cry because of two measly humans. they wouldn’t care of they ignored them, you know why.”

 “why is that, meg?”

“because she knows that she has an annoying teacher, a bunch of powerful senpai, two new classmates,” he smiled slightly, “and a troublesome jerk of a boyfriend there for her. she has no need to worry about two girls when she has all of these people here for her.”

she laughed, causing his heart to swell at the sound. he continued, “why would a menace to society such as herself bother with two normies? the (y/n) i know smiles at curses demise, and as unsettling it is, it just shows how fearless she is. she would never be brought down by two regular girls who don’t realize what their missing out on.”

she laughed loudly at that, wrapping her arms around her torso with a large smile. it was also then that megumi realized that she was wearing one of his sweatshirts (which he now always buys with the intention of her wearing them). his heart practically burst as he realized she still found comfort in him despite him not being their physically earlier.

she smirked up at him as he did the same to her, “since when were you this comforting, fushiguro. usually all i get is a hug and a nap.”

he shrugged, facing the ceiling (an attempt to hide his reddening cheeks), “since i got a girlfriend who actually happens to like my hugs and a nap. i wanted to put in more effort to be better for her, y’see.”

“well, as the said girlfriend, i would like to say that i’m perfectly content with how my boyfriend is now. he tends to try an improve himself for me, but i think that he’s just lovely the way he is.”

“yeah well, my little menace to society deserves more than she realizes. so i will do everything in my power to make sure she realizes it.”

she hummed, her eyelids starting to droop, “this menace to society appreciates everything that her fellow menace does for her, including napping with her. which happens to sound incredibly tempting right now.”

“indeed.”

[sofiaaaaaaaa03]

Lively

Summary: Reader enjoys singing to themselves while Din is gone for bounty hunting and one day gets caught.

(I’m new to the app so I lost the message the person sent to me, but here’s the first request I managed to copy before I lost it. I really hope the person enjoys it. I had a lot of fun!)

Request:  My prayers have been answered! Thank you so much for doing this, the lack of Dad!Din Djarin with young adult reader is killing me. Ok, so could you do a one shot the where reader (who is around 17) really enjoys listening to music and singing, but is afraid that it’ll annoy Din since he’s usually so quiet. So when Din is looking for bounty’s, the reader listens to music through her speaker rather than her iPod (or whatever is the space equivalent of an iPod) and just sings her heart out. But Din comes back early to find the reader singing to herself along with the lyrics, and surprises her. I’ve got some song suggestions, you can choose which one can fit the mood of the one shot. I tried to give you a wide range of genres, but not too many songs. Let me know if you need anything. 

Pairs: Dad!Din Djarin x Young Adult Reader

Words: 1,520

A/N : So I got a little carried away and ended up writing a little backstory for the reader because I imagine that they’d be from Earth and still LOVE listening to earth tunes. Like, can you imagine Din’s confusion to most human songs’ lyrics? Anyways, I really hope you guys like it and please request more things for me to write or tell me your thoughts on the story. I’d really appreciate your feedback!!

Ending up in outer space was the last thing you’d expect to happen when you turned seventeen. You thought you would be dealing with high school drama and figuring out where you’d be attending university. Not getting picked up by an alien spacecraft during a camping trip and taken lightyears away from Earth. It was too much for you to handle as you had no clue what was going to happen to you, so you quietly hummed your favorite song to help calm your nerves of whatever impending doom you would face. Though it seemed that you were not meant to face such a fate, when blasting came from the corridor of the ship and what seemed to be an armored knight entered the room, finding you huddled in the corner wearing nothing but your pjs.

You later found out that the knight was known as a Mandalorian while conversing with him under the star lit cockpit of his ship. 

“Never heard of it.” 

“You’ve never heard of Earth?” You looked at him incredulously, shocked at his indifferent tone. 

His helmet humbly shone as he shook his head. “Wherever you’re from, kid, it must be far. Is there anyone you know around the system that can look after you?”

You shook your head. If he didn’t know about Earth then you must be really far from home. This could be why people back home haven’t been able to find any alien life forms. They were so far out of reach that they didn’t know about humans back home. Did that mean you couldn’t go back home? What would you do now that you were stranded?

The Mandalorian looked at you for a moment before sighing. He confessed that he lived with a son who needed to be watched over while he was out pursuing bounties and offered you to stay with him for the time being so long as you watch the child while he was gone. He would also do his best to find any information about this Earth you spoke about and try to return you to your home. By Creed, he’d said. Which confused you at the time though you didn’t try to argue, not wanting to get marooned your first day in space. From that day forward, you began your life with the Mandalorian and his child.

--------

“When are you coming back?” You followed Din as he activated the boarding ramp to lower to the ground. He was off to retrieve another bounty. You could tell by the puck he carried with him. Whoever’s information was in it was not going to have a good day, you were sure of it.  

“End of the day, if things go well.” Din began to make his descent down the ramp, not bothering to turn around and face you. “Close the ramp. You have your coms in case anything happens while I’m gone.”

You watched as the Mandalorian set off for the nearest town, waiting for him to distance himself from the ship before pushing the button that’d close the ramp and heading back inside to get Grogu. You stopped in the middle of the main corridor, looking inside Din’s bunk. Grogu cooed inside the makeshift hammock, sleepy eyed and yawning.

“Din’s gone. You know what that means?” You picked up Grogu and made your way to the cockpit. A small squeal erupted from the small green thing in your arms, causing you to chuckle as the doors to the cockpit opened dramatically.  For a baby he sure was able to understand so much. Plopping onto Din’s seat (something you only had the courage to do when he was gone) you pulled out your phone and began connecting it onto the main board. 

Back on Earth, it was no secret about your love of music. You used to spend hours in your room completely losing touch with reality while you sang your heart out. It was different in space. Though the music to you was foreign and full of languages that were not of your native tongue, you enjoyed them nonetheless and even listened to them using an old datapad you found in the ship. Never aloud though. You were afraid of overstepping your boundaries with the Mandalorian you’d lived with. The fact that he never said much intimidated you enough. You didn’t want to annoy him. Besides, after a long day he deserves to come back home to peace and quiet. 

That didn’t mean that you couldn’t enjoy yourself while he was gone. Oh, on the contrary it became tradition for you and Grogu to turn the Razor Crest into one big speaker while the two of you jammed out to music. As it turned out, Grogu really enjoys the 70s. 

The two of you pranced around the ship for what only felt like an hour, when in reality the suns of the planet had gone down a long time since. Grogu had tired himself out and fell asleep the moment he returned to his little hammock. You, on the other hand, sat in the cockpit where the music was currently playing in. The wires had to be redirected and closed so that the only area the speakers played music in was where you were. Even though Grogu was sleeping, you were far from done listening to music. At the moment, you were singing your heart out to Killer Queen. You had been silently listening to the music before. But with a classic like this it deserved to be sung with. Or at least, that’s how you felt.

Unbeknownst to you, Din was making his way to the ship when he heard sounds coming from within. This worried him for a moment. His instincts told him that someone else was inside and with the kids. Quickly making his way up the ramp, Din upholstered his rifle and scanned the main hull of the ship. A moment passed. The hull showed no signs of struggle. Taking several steps forward Din picked up on the light snoring coming from his son’s hammock. He checked Grogu quietly, careful as to not wake him but still wanting to make sure that he was alright. Comforted to know that his son was safe, Din admitted to himself that he was being too rash with an intruder inside of the ship and took a moment to glance around the vicinity in search of his other ward. Where were you? He checked your empty cot before making his way into the cockpit.

“Didn’t know there were concerts on this ship.” 

“Dank Farrik-” You jumped out of your seat, startled by Din’s clapping that had interrupted your vibes. You were too busy singing to hear the Mandalorian’s steps as he entered the hull. “I didn’t hear- how long were you watching?” 

Din made his way beside the main chair, placing a hand on the headrest. “Long enough to know you messed with my cables. How’d you learn to do that?” 

“Peli taught me some things last time we were with her.” Your ears burned hot. “She thought it’d be useful to learn in case you needed an extra set of hands.”

You stared at anything but Din, still embarrassed from the startle he gave you. With his helmet on it was virtually impossible to look at him and tell what he was thinking. To know if he was annoyed. If he was upset at you for messing with his ship, he certainly didn’t show it. Was he going to kick you out? Leave you stranded? You sighed, closing your eyes and waited for him to say something.

A chuckle emitted from Din’s helmet. “Y’know, I was wondering where that song was from.”

You opened your eyes, tilting your head at him questionably. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” He sat on the co-pilot’s seat, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, “Grogu has been mumbling some sort of uh… song whenever he doesn’t see you around. I always assumed that it was his way of calling for you. Didn’t really know where he’d gotten it from, until now.”

A large smile found itself on your face. 

“Really?” Din nodded. “He really loves Earth music, yknow.”

“He doesn’t do a bad job mimicking it either.” A pause. “You two should play it more often when we’re travelling. It’d certainly make the place more…”

“Lively?” You added with a smirk.

Din hummed, nodding at your words. “Yeah, kid. Lively. Alright, out of the chair. We gotta hit hyperspace for our next commute.” He ruffled your hair and chuckled at you swiping at his hands. You settled in the co-pilot’s chair while he positioned himself on the pilot’s chair, grabbing your phone and staring at it for a moment. Its wires remained connected to the ship’s board. 

“Here.” He handed the phone to you. “I’d like to learn more about your music...if that’s alright with you.”

You smiled, hitting shuffle on the playlist and listened to the music flood into the cockpit. You didn’t fail to notice Din’s foot tapping to the beat of the song.