#if you wanna be in my taglist send me an ask or comment lol i- you HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH GUTS IT TOOK TO WRITE A TAGLIST I HAVE LIKE FIVE

[awrkive]

[TEASER] THE LOVE PROGNOSIS (m) — JJK.

for as long as you can remember, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic.

the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. the kind of girl who thought her high school jock boyfriend would make good on his promise of keeping contact until college. that girl who thought the guy she met at 19 at some sleazy frat party wanted more than just sex. the girl who thought that her boyfriend at 21 would finally be The One after he introduced her to his parents on New Year’s Eve. you’re the kind of girl who thought that it was smart to get a boyfriend in her first year of med school and get proposed to in fourth year.

but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.

PAIRING jungkook x female reader // mingyu x female reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

WORD COUNT 1.2k words for this teaser but the fic currently is at 22k words (heavily unedited). the final estimate is around 30-35k 🤓

WARNINGS/MISC medical!au, roommates!au, surgeon!jk, surgeon!reader (they are both 4th year residents and are co-workers), corporate lawyer!mingyu, oc and jk are bffs since med school but their love language is fighting each other <3, jk and mingyu are bffs during undergrad, jk sluts it out quite often😞, hopeless romantic!oc, weddings and engagement themes, the angst is a bit extreme (medium level tbh) on this one, it’s the… yearning? one sided-love?, the surgeons gang: jk, oc, nayeon, doyeon, taehyung <3, multiple sex scenes (will specify once the fic comes out), i personally have only acquired a degree on Bingewatching Grey’s Anatomy so my medical knowledge is.. you see.. greys anatomy 💔 BUT! i did a lot of research for this pls dont crucify me. the full list of warnings will be indicated when the full fic comes out 🙏🏼 anyways warnings particularly for this teaser: drunk oc, implied alcohol consumption, germaphobe jk lol

NOTES hello awrkive nation!!!!!!!!!!!!! i wanted to do something for jk’s birthday this september and this is what i came up with 😭 i am so soooo so incredibly excited to announce this fic to you guys 😵‍💫 ive been working on this on and off since the last week of july and its currently at 20k words so its coming along really well 🫂 its gonna be a HUGEE HUGEEE fic since its estimated to be around 30k words which will be a first for me hehe <3 pls look forward to it and REPLY TO THE COMMENT SECTION IF YOU WANT TO BE ON THE TAGLIST (pls do not send an ask for taglist request 🫶🏼) LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU GUYS THINK!!!!! I WANNA HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS <33333

[ TLP MOODBOARD ]

READ FULL FIC HERE ❗

“Hey, swing me.”

You tell Jungkook, situating yourself more comfortably on the wooden platform attached to the chains.

“A dollar per minute.” He says, standing up from his own seat and placing himself behind you.

“I thought you hate capitalism? What is this?”

“This is forced labor.” Jungkook says with a groan that you think is a feigned exasperation, since you begin to feel movement right after it.

“You broke my hairdryer the other day. Consider this your compensation.” You look up at him to give him a smarmy smile.

Fom where you’re seated, you realize just how… big his presence is. It’s not the looming, ominous type, though – it’s quite the opposite. When Jungkook surrounds you, you find a bit of comfort in it. A huge one if you want to be honest to yourself.

“And I already bought you a new one. We’re even.” Jungkook squints his eyes at you.

You laugh.

“You’re gonna borrow and break it again.”

He visibly winces. “Touché.”

Jungkook swings you while you talk about your day, just like usual. He asks you about your laparoscopy that kept you from having lunch with the rest of your friends at the hospital earlier that day, about your new scrub cap, and you gossip a little about the new lab tech having a crush on the scrub nurse you both know.

For all his complaints earlier, Jungkook seemingly doesn’t seem to mind having swung you for the past ten minutes now. He’s relaxed and gentle with his movements, and his voice is quaint and soft as he talks to you.

But then you start to feel bad for him so you tell him to stop, standing up from the swing.

“Okay, your turn.”

Jungkook gives you a big grin.

“Nice.”

You chuckle at his enthusiasm when he sits on the swing chair this time around. But when you attempt a push, he barely moves, prompting him to laugh.

“What weak ass push was that?” He says incredulously, looking at you.

You jut your bottom lip out. “You’re heavy and I’m drunk.”

The second time you push him is more forceful but then Jungkook voices out a complaint after the third, fourth, and every single time you do it. You roll your eyes at his tantrums, but then suddenly, you think of a much better idea.

You push him off the swing with all your remaining strength even though your body feels like jelly from all the alcohol you consumed an hour ago.

“What the fuck, __?”

You burst out in boisterous laughter at Jungkook’s state, his hands and knees planted on the ground. He then sits on it, clapping his palms together to get rid of some dust that gathered on his skin.

Without thinking too much about it, you make quick steps over to his direction and situate yourself beside him.

Jungkook looks at you, confused, but you only give him a grin.

“Let’s lie on the ground.”

“What? No!” Jungkook immediately opposes it. As you expected.

You scrunch your face. “Oh! Look at me! I’m Jeon Jungkook and I’m a germaphobe and I’m afraid of dirt!” You say, intentionally making your voice a pitch higher.

Jungkook deadpans. “Pathogens can kill your cells’ metabolic machinery, so, yeah? I’m afraid of dirt.”

You roll your eyes at him and while he goes off about how they can also cause a toxic massive immune reaction, you push his chest forcefully which catches him off guard, prompting him to lay on the ground. Before he can say anything, you take his arm out to spread beside you and you use it to rest your head on.

Jungkook stops his rambling after that.

“See, shut up.” You say, backhanding him slightly on the chest. You fix your gaze at the skies. “The sky is beautiful tonight. Worry about your pathogens next time.”

Jungkook chuckles, and you feel the vibration of his body as he does so, being so close to him. As you peer up to look at him, you see him folding his other arm to lie his head on it.

You smile, going back to looking at the sky.

“This is like in The Notebook.” Jungkook says after a beat of silence.

“Right?” You grin. “And with the pathogens, too.” You tease.

Jungkook laughs, pinching your arm in his reach. “God, shut up about your pathogens.”

You chuckle at the irony.

“That’s me,” you point upwards, referring to a big twinkling light in the sky. Then, you move your finger towards the star beside it. “And then that’s you, ‘cause I’m a bigger star than you.”

You feel Jungkook look at you from his position. “You are so drunk.”

That causes you to giggle, clutching your stomach because you can’t stop laughing at pretty much everything tonight.

“I feel like I'm not anymore. My head just feels like it’s floating but no, definitely not drunk.”

“Whatever you say.” Jungkook says, chest vibrating from laughing at you.

“Hm. Race you to sleep, Jungkook.” You snuggle on his armpit. As you do, you smell a waft of your water lily springs body wash from Bath and Body Works. “Can you stop using my body wash?”

“What?” You can hear Jungkook say, but as he calls your name and more, his voice starts fading. “__? Hey, don’t sleep on me.”

You hum, eyes still closed.

“__, hey!” Jungkook grazes your arms. You can feel your head moving as Jungkook starts to sit, guiding your back to sit upright. He calls you again, gently tapping your cheek to wake you up.

The truth is, you’re really sleepy, but not so much that you can’t hear him anymore or move on your own.

Jungkook gives up trying to wake you up, though, convinced by your acting. Soon, he goes over in front of you, reaching for your arms and placing them around his neck.

“Just put your legs around me, yeah?” He whispers against your hair once you’re glued against his back.

You hum, intending it to sound like a mumble so Jungkook thinks you don’t actually understand.

Jungkook fixes your legs around him, standing up, bouncing a little to get you nice and snug in his back. You smile at the prospect of a piggyback ride.

“I know you’re awake, silly,” He says suddenly, his voice painted with amusement.

You stifle your laughter against his neck, breaking your supposed to be convincing act.

“Race you to the car, Kook.” you whisper into his ear.

Jungkook scoffs, but he doesn’t say anything more until you reach his car. He wears your seatbelt for you, though, and tells you to drink more water from his tumbler.

You fall asleep easily mid-drive.

In the morning, you wake up with a banging headache, your eyes catching the sight of a post-it note on your desk with one tab of Advil.

morning/afternoon stinky i made porridge before i left for my shift just heat it up again when you wake up

ps: your medical bill from my personal care will be discussed later when i get back home. no friends discount allowed

— your angelic friend, kookie

You chuckle at the (annoyingly elaborate) sketch of an angry bunny on the side.

© 𝐀𝐖𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐕𝐄 2024. all rights reserved. copying, editing, reposting and translating any of my works are not allowed.

[muniimyg]

5: the oblivious // series m.list

note: okok... i'm sorry i have to taint them. i jus think... HE DESERVED THIS !!! ahwuhaksjf srsly i tried so hard to keep this fic pure n fluffy ,,, mebe next time LOL

warnings: jk fingers oc in the library :') ,, dirty talk ,, oc cums !! implied smut thru/out their convo ?? yeah ...

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “aao” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @defzcl @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main @rrosiitas @jkslvsnella @parkinglot-nights @kissyfacekoo

//

“Hey, you.”

Before you can turn your head, it’s like your heart already knows who it is. Actually, it’s pretty much a given on who it is. 

Jungkook catches up next to you, snaking his arm around your waist. He pulls you close and kisses the top of your head, followed by a tight hug. He squeezes you until you squeal free from his grip. 

“There’s a kinder way of greeting me that doesn’t involve squeezing my guts out,” you criticize him half-heartedly. "What ever happened to just saying hi?"

He chuckles. “It went down the drain after the first time I kissed you."

“You always wanna kiss me, huh?”

Pretending to be offended, he shoots you a glare. “Now, now… Don’t act like you didn’t come running back for a goodnight kiss—”

“Okay, okay,” you yield. “I get it. Can you—”

Without hesitation, Jungkook takes your tote bag off of your shoulders. Along with your books in your hands, he tilts his head towards the library, assuming that's where you're headed. You nod in response. Like second nature, he offers you his hand.

You take it.

With a smile, he adds, “Let's go. I got it, mi.”

Confused, you tilt your head at him. “Mi?”

He then scrunches his nose at you. “Figure it out.”

You huff but mutter an “okay, fine.” Although, you don't really think about it. You have a feeling you already know what he means.

With that, you continue to walk towards the library. As you do so, Jungkook walks beside you, happier than ever. He smiles brightly when you ask him about his day. To which he replies that it was the same old same old. He states that the only exciting part about today was that he got dismissed early from class because his professor had an appointment. Hence, him being able to catch up to you on time. On Monday's, you're usually at the library by 2PM sharp. He usually joins you at 3PM, making today an hour more special than usual. You laugh, joking that he's too into you. Jungkook doesn't deny it. Poorly, he utters under his breath; “like you wouldn’t do the same…” 

You laugh because you heard it. 

But more than that, you laugh because it’s true. If the tables were turned, you’d be in his position. You’d be the one looking for him. In all honesty, you don't know when that started... But it has and you wouldn't have it any other way.

Jungkook likes the mood right now. It’s a lot like the end-of-spring weather today. It’s playful and sweet. Moments like these are exactly why he gets so many butterflies when he’s around you. Maybe it’s because he finally feels like things are moving forward between you two. Maybe it’s because he feels your effort. Maybe because it’s finally happening. 

You have butterflies too.

They say love is only really made up of two things: choices and timing. With your entire heart, you can't help but feel hopeful that this is that.

This is it.

When you two make it in front of the library, Jungkook holds the door open for you. Happily, you head to your spot only to find it taken. 

“Oh…” you frown. “That’s—”

“Do you want me to ask them to move?” Jungkook suggests. "I can do it."

He says it nonchalantly like it's no big deal.

That's the difference between you and him. For many things, Jungkook's approach is much more confident and not personal. You on the other hand... Would rather eat the wrong order than correct the workers. It's difficult for you to feel like you aren't inconveniencing others. It's easier for you to suck it up and move on.

With wide eyes, you shake your head. “What? No. That spot—”

“It's yours if you want it... I know you want it. I can get it for you." He repeats himself. "Just tell me to, baby. I got it.” 

Your heart is touched by the way he validates your feelings. More than that, your heart is touched by how he understands and protects what matters to you. There's kindness in his actions. There's thoughtfulness and in a way, it makes you wonder just how well he knows your heart. Though it's just a spot in your favourite library; it's also where you feel the most safe. That's all he really wants... To be with you wherever you are the happiest. He wants it so bad. He just wants to sit with you.

When that realization hits, you can't stop it.

Your heart skips a beat.

“It’s… Okay, fine. Y-yeah, it is my favourite spot but it's also whatever," because wherever you are is my new favourite spot. "We can sit somewhere else—”

His eyes light up.

“I know a spot.”

“You do?”

“Mhmm.” Jungkook nods towards the other end of the library. Before you can think twice, he takes your hand and tugs you to follow him.

And so that's what you do.

You hold his hand tightly.

You follow him.

You set your butterflies free.

Jungkook leads you to the corner of the library. It’s a little secluded, bordered by bookshelves, and only lit by one big window. Your usual spot is right in the heart of the library. Where the high ceilings look magnificent at every time of day, and the busy atmosphere motivates you to keep going… This part of the library is sleepier. It’s hidden. It’s a little—

“I-is this where you go to make out with your girls?” you attempt to joke your nervousness away. 

Jungkook grins. “Jealous?”

“Only if it’s true.” 

He shakes his head, completely impressed with how you answer him. It’s times like these where he has no doubt that he likes the wrong girl. This is it. You’re the best match for him. He won’t have anyone else. 

He refuses to. 

Jungkook pulls you down to his lap, and as you settle in, he kisses your neck. Out of reflex, you hesitate when someone walks past you two. They chuckle at you two as if they know the spot... As if they know Jungkook.

You clear your throat and shift away.

Instantly, he notices and sighs. He isn't disappointed or annoyed, he knows you're shy. He knows you need reassurance. He knows to listen to you.

“___, if you think this is some fuckboy move I’m pulling… You’re right. But it’s not my move. It’s Jin’s.” He confesses. “I’ve never made out with a girl in the library. Never felt like it… Like, it’s just so boring and like… The lowest level of an exhibition kink.” 

“What’s the highest?”

Jungkook blanks out. 

“Don’t edge me like that,” he warns you. “Don’t ask if the answer has nothing to do with you and me.”

More than his head and heart, Jungkook feels like his dick might go crazy.

You laugh, as you get up from his lap and sit on the chair beside him. He groans and keeps his hand on your wrist as you move. Jungkook only lets go when you reach over for your bag and begin to unpack. 

He watches you as you prepare your notes in front of him and turn your laptop on. In complete disbelief of the direction of the conversation, he can’t take his eyes off of you. 

It’s like he’s in a trance. He doesn’t know if he’s even blinking. He must be, right? You’re the only thing that he sees. The only thing he can think of lately... And to see you so close to him? It feels surreal.

He’s so lucky. 

He’s so in love.

There’s no other way of putting it.

Over these past few months, you’ve made it incredibly difficult for him to deny his feelings. He can’t even suppress them anymore like the good subconscious fuckboy he is. You have not only captured his heart with your gentleness, but you have him mesmerized with every single part of yourself that you give to him. As time goes by, he isn’t sure how much more he can hold out before a kiss turns into something more or how many words he has left to use before the words “marry me,” escape his lips. It’s just so easy with you.

It’s so easy to feel loved and be in love. 

“Stop staring at me,” you hum as you read through your articles. You don’t even glance at him, but you feel it. You feel the desire to. You should give in… Right? Maybe—

“God, you have no idea how hard I’m trying.” 

You turn to look at him, lips curved into a small smile. “T-try harder… Like me.”

This time, Jungkook is caught off guard. Maybe you aren't as oblivious as he once thought you were.

“What do you mean?” he asks, moving his seat closer to you. You sit back and lean in towards his body. It's as if the work you prepared to focus on has completely lost its significance.

It has.

“I think you’re handsome,” you admit. You say it so gently that it comes off a little timid... Sure nonetheless. “But you don’t see my eyes popping out of my head—”

“You think I’m handsome?” Jungkook chuckles, feeling flattered with the way you're trying so hard to get past this nonchalantly. Nice try, ___. He plans to milk this out as much as possible. “What else?”

You scrunch your nose at him. “A little annoying to be honest. This is my study time, and you’re acting all cute.”

“So you think I’m handsome and cute?”

Rolling your eyes, you push away from him playfully. “I think you know know what you are.”  

Instantly, he hates the distance you put in between you two. You were just close to him… Why move away? He moves closer to you. You giggle as you feel him moving your hair from your neck. Sweetly, he kisses your neck and behind your ear. 

“Just means more coming from you… You know? Makes me happy when you think of me.”

“I always think of you,” you breathe, pushing him away again. He gives you a lazy smile and you squish his lips together into a pout. “Are you done? Stop staring at me. Stop trying to make out with me. Stop—”

“Why?” Jungkook tests you, removing your hands from his face. You’re tongue tied. “___, if you’re in love with me, fess up now. Aren’t we supposed to be doing that honesty thing?”

“That was more for you than it is for me…” you remind him. “Now, get it together or get out.”

“You can’t kick me out of the library. You aren’t the police. If you are, show me your handcuffs.” Jungkook demands. “Plus, this is my spot.”

With an annoyed tone, you sit up and argue back. “You took my spot—”

“Shhh,” he cuts you off by pressing a kiss on your lips. Your lips chase his as he pulls away. You let out a whine and furrow your eyebrows together.

One more, please.

One more kiss.

Jungkook settles back to his seat and takes his books out. Ignoring your pleas, he places his hand on your knee (like he always does) and hushes you one last time; “___, get it together or get out.” 

Jungkook’s hand on your knees somehow made it up your skirt. 

Let’s not talk about it. Instead, let’s just accept that this is what’s happening now.

Even so, you admit that a part of you should have seen this coming… Nevertheless, you aren’t mad that it’s happening. You’d be lying if you never went through your ovulation and didn’t think about Jungkook… Besides, he’s been so good to you. He deserves this!

God, did he deserve this. 

He has wanted this for so long. Aside from being mindlessly in love with you 24/7, he has thought about it. Of course, he has. At the end of the day, his heart can't be the only thing that's in(to) you. He's a nice guy, meaning he’d rather service you first.

Mark his word but the day you and him actually do sleep together and it's you doing things to him...

It will be unforgettable.

It will be incomparable.

It will be everything.

For now, this is it. His hoodie sits on top of your lap as his fingers are up your pussy. You two are still in the library at his spot. Everyone has left to eat dinner. The only ones at the library are the workers and the try-hard students in the main rooms.

Besides… You’re close. 

Really fucking close.

As his fingers pump inside you, you squirm in your chair. Leaning your forehead against his chest, he rests his chin on top of your head and utters; “take it, baby. You can do it. Make me proud.”

“I c-can’t,” you cry, feeling it in your bones at this point. His fingers curl inside you, and you practically jump out of your seat when he adds his thumb to rub onto your clit. 

“Wish it was my mouth,” he whines. “Can I do that next time, baby? Can I suck your cunt? So fucking swollen right now... You thinking of me eating you out, baby? Wanna lick that pussy so bad.. Ahh, fuck.”

“M-mnhmphh,” you moan at the thought. “Kiss me, p-please…”

You tilt your face up and pursed your lips at him. Jungkook lowers his head and kisses you, deep and slow. It’s a contradiction to how he picks up the pace and fucks you with his fingers. You gasp, mouth opening for him. He catches your tongue and sucks on it. 

Pulling away, you grab a handful of his shirt and tug on it. Holding onto it, you pant and feel the tingles in your body intensify.

“That’s it, ___. Clench around my fucking fingers,” he hisses. “Be an angel and cream them, yeah? Fuck my fingers back if you want. I’ll let you.” 

You shake your head. “N-no. You started this, you finish it.”

He grins. “What my girl wants, she gets.” 

He keeps going, fucking you with his fingers. They curl, searching inside your pussy as if there’s something to fucking find. Actually, maybe he’ll find your dignity in there. You must have lost your mind to be fingered in the fucking library!

Your thoughts are cut off when he pulls his fingers out and rubs your folds. You almost cry when you feel him pinch your clit. 

“Jungkook,” you whine, feeling yourself climax. 

“Jungkook,” he mocks, as he feels your upper body collapse against his. 

As you feel yourself cum, you gather the strength to stick up for yourself. “S-shut up.”

He laughs, and kisses the top of your head as he pulls his fingers out. He murmurs between kisses; “Good job, baby… Did so good. Proud of you.”

Your heart flutters as you catch your breath and straighten your posture. With Jungkook’s free hand, he reaches in his bag for the little packet of tissue (that you had packed in there a few days ago because you noticed he had a runny nose) and nonchalantly wipes your mess. 

“Your fingers—”

Jungkook shoves them in his mouth, sucking on your cum. As he cleans them off, you glare at him. 

“Don't—oh my god," you huff. Suddenly, you feel embarrassed about everything that just happened. Jungkook laughs and leans forward. He kisses your cheek, asking if you're okay. You nod and feel yourself beginning to blank out.

"You're nasty."

He cups your face and kisses your lips. “Yeah, yeah... But, baby, I wasn’t the one that came in the library.”

[sturnsmadl]

enemy!chris headcannons!

warnings!-mostly just angst and chris being a huge dick, swearing, mentions of self harm, slight bodyshaming, bullying, mentions of nudes, kissing, male masturbation, mentions of sex, light fluff, player chris.

enemy!chris who hates all your boyfriends and ex's.

"wheres the ugly guy your always with lately?"

"we broke up.."

"thank god. he bored the shit out of me."

enemy!chris who makes you feel like shit for fun.

"im gonna go get lunch if you wanna-"

"of course you are. always eating."

enemy!chris who still denys he likes you.

"your in love with her. we all see it."

"no im not.."

"the denial is crazy."

enemy!chris who doesn't let you go on dates.

enemy!chris who constantly makes sneaky comments.

enemy!chris who is always looking at your body.

enemy!chris who never lets you get your own way.

"can we go target instead?"

"oh yeah! i love-"

"actually walmarts good."

"can you just fucking decide?!"

enemy!chris who makes excuses like crazy.

"i was drunk." "i dont know. i was tired." "phone got hacked."

enemy!chris who you regret hooking up with.

"wasnt saying all this when you were under me."

"shutup. i regret that everyday."

"oh.."

enemy!chris who goes through your phone while your asleep.

enemy!chris who is always harsh with you.

"im gonna go to the gym when i-"

"thats a shocker."

enemy!chris who blocks all the boys off your phone.

enemy!chris who always asks for you to send.

"hi."

"what?"

"you tryna send something?"

enemy!chris who doesn't let you get a word in.

"oh nick did i tell you about-"

"god no one fucking cares..shut the fuck up for once."

enemy!chris who hooks up with girls all the time so you know your just a number.

"u said i was.."

"different? yeah. i say that a lot huh?"

enemy!chris who breaks your lock when he finds out you hurt yourself.

"fuck..where are you?!"

"bathroom.."

enemy!chris who keeps an eye on you at parties.

enemy!chris who shows you up when your in a group.

"i got this new shirt and its like-"

"suprised you could afford it."

"chris.."

enemy!chris who feels slightly bad when he finds you crying because of his words.

"are you...okay..?"

"do i look okay?!"

"uhh..no..?"

enemy!chris who stares at you when you scream at him.

"AND YOU CANT KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS CAN YOU?!"

"well..i-"

"EVERYTIME I TRY SPEAK YOU HAVE TO INSULT ME!!"

enemy!chris who kisses you to shut you up.

"chris your really starting to-"

kisses you

enemy!chris who hugs you to his chest when you cry.

"shh..your okay.."

"its not i-"

"your getting makeup on my white shirt."

"oh fuck off chris."

enemy!chris who gets caught jerking off to your pictures.

"fuck!..nghm..y/n.."

"chris have you seen-"

"what?! get out!!"

enemy!chris who finally admits everything.

"sorry..i was just too scared to admit my own feelings.."

"oh..i mean..nick said-"

"doesnt matter. im sorry."

enemy!chris who actually feels guilty.

"but..you said all that stuff so quick like you didnt even think.."

"i know..i didnt mean it. i was just a dick."

enemy!chris who loves make-up sex.

"yeah? fuck your tight..you feel that?"

"yeah! fuck chris.."

a/n this is a lot but its kinda my favourite one lol. i like angst so thats probably why :) needed to put some warnings which i probably should from now on for all tbh. im very aware that chris would never act like this!!! mafia matt might be out tommorow depends how im feeling tbh.

taglist! @bellaonthelow @hrtsdollie @moonk1ss3d @sturnclouds @christophersgf @ellizzyy @fratbrochrisgf @phoenix062 @pixxiies @conspiracy-ash @blahbel668 @monroesturnns @gwennybenny @sturnobsessedwh0re @xoxo4chriss @pixie-sticks-are-good @wurlibydominicfike @anitahunt @ilusa @mattstrombolii @stvrlighht @asherrisrandom @amelia-sturniolo3

[bvidzsoo]

Love Me Like A Rockstar (8)

ー☆ Chapter 8: Own My Mind

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: cursing ー☆ Word count: 8.3k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆ Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Hello, lovelies! I'm back with a new chapter and let me tell you, ever since I've started writing this there's been little changes to the plot here and there, but...we should all thank Song Mingi for the way he's been acting this weekend for bringing a major change to it (i wanna kms ha-ha *dies in pain*) Anyways, I have a love-hate relationship with that man right now, don't mind my dramatic ass. Please listen to Maneskin's Own My Mind before or while reading this chapter, just the usual! If you want to be added to this story's taglist, just leave a comment on this post and you'll be added! Also, the drawing our girlie is talking about that is on her bed (later in this chp.), is absolutely waterbomb Mingi and it's a call-back to chp. 4 hehet. I have a surprise at the end of this chapter lol. One last question and then I'm going, should I do a Q&A surrounding this story? Like, if you have any curiosities about it, you can send in an ask and I'll gladly answer it! ^^ I hope you'll enjoy this part and, as always, let me know your thoughts about it!

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @sharksandminhos

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

            I shivered as I hurriedly shrugged off my jacket, backpack discarded the second I stepped inside my warm home, the loud thunder cut short as Mingi quickly closed the front door behind himself, hissing and groaning. I turned my head to watch him struggle out of his worn-out jacket as I stepped out of my shoes, hardly believing that from just a few minutes out in the rain, even my socks got soaked. Mingi’s head shook as his body trembled, and I couldn’t help but chuckle as I watched him. He looked quite hilarious with his black hair sticking to his forehead, glasses so wet he couldn’t see through them anymore, loose clothing now sticking to his lean body like a second skin.

“What’s so funny?” Mingi playfully furrowed his eyebrows as he took his specks off, shaking the water off the glass, as wiping it against his already wet clothes wouldn’t have helped him in ridding his glasses of water.

“You.” I mumbled with a chuckle as I peeled my cardigan off, skin covered in goosebumps as my damp skin was exposed to the chilly air in the hallway. Mingi rolled his eyes, and placed his glasses back on as I took off towards the wardrobe by the stairs, chewing on my bottom lip. Mingi would have to change out of his wet clothes, unless we wanted him to catch a cold. I couldn’t leave him standing there like that, shivering and sniffing as he already sneezed loudly. His apology was sheepish, but I just flashed him a small smile before opening the heavy door of the wardrobe. There were minimal chances that the box I was looking for was still inside the wardrobe, considering the fact that my mother would go on a cleaning frenzy every month and throw out almost everything inside the house that she deemed unusable anymore. Therefore, there were almost one to zero chances that the box I so vividly remember having placed here ages ago, was still in its spot.

“Uh, do you think I could use the bathroom real fast?” Mingi asked, voice sounding unsure as I kneeled down in front of the wardrobe, eyebrows furrowing when I didn’t spot the box right away.

“One second, let me find something.” I called out, leaning forward as I pushed my mother’s long coats hanging in my face out of the way, and disappeared further into the wardrobe as I pushed and pulled at the thick blankets she kept in there. I thought about giving up for a second, about her having thrown out the contents of the box I was searching for, but I gasped when I felt the sturdy cartoon underneath my fingertips. With a triumphant smile, I pulled on it, a few scarfs and my very old Hello Kitty beanie falling out in the process. The box felt heavier than I remembered it to be, and my heart settled knowing that my mother didn’t throw it out. But that didn’t mean it didn’t start beating wildly once I sat back on my heels, box placed in front of me. A chill ran down my spine, and I knew right now that it wasn’t because of the chilly air and my damp skin. Whatever still remained inside this box…is what I never had the strength to throw out, to fully get rid of every memory lingering of Yunho. I gulped, chewing on my bottom lip as I hesitated opening it up. But there was another loud sneeze, and as I briefly glanced at Mingi, I couldn’t help but notice the light red tinge on his cheeks as he typed away on his phone, completely soaked. I really had no other choice but to open up the box of pandora.

And a lump formed in my throat when I finally opened it, a stale scent hitting my nose. My eyebrows furrowed when a golden butterfly necklace sat on top of everything, a harsh reminder of all the gifts Yunho would buy for me during our relationship. I have thrown out all the gifts, except this one. It was expensive, and frankly, too beautiful to be thrown out or gifted to anyone else. Gulping, I pushed the necklace aside and sighed as I dug around the box, jaw clenching at the three sketchbooks getting in my way. They were filled with drawings of Yunho and myself, of all the places we’ve been to, of all the places I have wished to visit with Yunho. Of all the memories we have once made, and of all the memories I wished we could’ve made. Being an artist was amazing, but at certain times it was a nightmare in disguise, brain able to conjure such vivid images that never happened, that it could fool me into thinking that they have actually happened. I sighed quietly as I felt eyes on me, and finally found what I was searching for. A fuzzy and faded knitted sweater, a plethora of colors mixed together, from beige to a light purple, black and silver in the mix too. I pulled it out of the box, together with the grey sweatpants, and cleared my throat as I stood, hands burning the longer I held the clothing in my hands. I felt guilty, almost disgusting as I neared Mingi again, trying to avoid his eyes as he had an easy look on his face, smiling despite continuously sniffing.

“These are the only male clothing we have in the house,” I said as I reached my hands out, looking at Mingi’s chest rather than eyes, “hopefully they’ll fit you.”

“And if they won’t, you can always give me one of your colorful fuzzy cardigans.” Mingi’s tone was playful and I chuckled, giving him a playful glare. Those cardigans would never fit his broad shoulders. The tightness was gone from my chest as Mingi took the clothes from my grasp, a thankful look on his face. The guilt remained, but it wasn’t so pressing anymore.

“You can change in the bathroom downstairs,” I pointed towards the closed door across from the wardrobe, “towels are in the cabinet above the toilet. Do you need a hairdryer?”

Mingi shook his head with a smile and gave my soaked hair a light tap, “Thank you, Y/N.”

The way he seemed to linger on my name sent my heart into a dumb frenzy, and I found myself flustered beyond, emotion so foreign I forgot how to speak for a second. And Mingi didn’t miss it, fuck, because he walked away with a smug smile towards the bathroom and paused in the doorway for dramatic effect, before disappearing with a damn wink. I huffed, glaring daggers at the closed door as I scurried to shove everything fallen out back inside the wardrobe, closing its door rather harshly. I licked my chapped lips and raced up the stairs, throwing the door to my room open and taking a second to take in its state. My desk was messy, but that’s just how it always was, I couldn’t do much about it right now. I opened the blackout curtains, however, the weather already gloomy enough to cast shadows inside my dark room. I flinched as another thunder rumbled through the sky, and grabbed the first clothes I found in my closet, walking to the bathroom upstairs.

After having changed into wide legged leggings that had cotton on the inside, I quickly threw on a white tank top and a soft pink mock neck sweater, sighing in content as warmth finally enveloped my body after I have dried up the dampness on it with a towel. I skipped down the stairs as I had a towel around my head, messily towel drying my hair, completely missing the tall form standing at the foot of the stairs as I stumbled into him. I yelped, but Mingi quickly steadied me by the elbows. Before I had the chance to pull the towel off my head, two large hands grabbed at it and started softly rubbing the towel against my wet hair. I froze, everything inside me stopping as even my breath stilled, eyes wide open. Mingi said nothing as he continued with his actions, quietly humming to himself. I was afraid he’d be able to hear my loud heartbeat as I breathed through my mouth, lips parting as I struggled to calm down. I was thankful for the towel hiding my face, because I could feel the blush spreading down from my cheeks to my ears, and even neck. I couldn’t remember a time when I have blushed this hard, and it made me feel slightly disoriented. For God’s sake, Mingi was simply towel drying my hair for me, why was I having such a visceral reaction to it?! My mind seemed to be screaming at me, but I was too busy trying to regulate my breathing, doing so quietly, as Mingi’s hands became a little rougher, almost pulling on specific strands of hair. My eyes narrowed as he turned my head left to right to his likes, and I groaned as his fingers dug into my scalp.

“Hey, stop it!” I whined and slapped at his hand, making Mingi chuckle as he ruffled my hair to the point I had strands from the back falling into my eyes.

“Oh, good,” He was still chuckling, “for a second there I thought you had fallen asleep with how quiet you were.”

Despite not being able to see his face, or anything if I looked ahead, I could still peek down and see his feet. I was standing on the last step of the stairs, and with an evil grin, I jumped down, his naked toes falling victims to my attack. Mingi yelped loudly, and I cackled as I pulled the towel off my face, smiling at him smugly.

“Serves you right since my hair is all knotted up thanks to you.” I raised my eyebrows at him as Mingi had his right leg raised, massaging his toes with a pained expression.

“So you break my toes?!” He exclaimed, his deep tone a few octaves higher, making me snicker to myself as I threw the towel at him, making him yelp and look at me with an appalled expression on his face.

“Stop being a baby,” I stuck my tongue out at him as I walked towards the front door to lock it before I went inside the kitchen, “And wear some slippers before you come to the kitchen.”

Mingi was closely following behind me, ignoring my words, “What, one of your dwarf slippers? It’s either my toes or heels will be dangling off.”

The image was funny in my head, but I ignored it in order to throw him a scrutinizing look, “The tiles are cold in here, you’ll catch a cold.”

A wide smile spread on Mingi’s lips as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest, biceps bulging underneath the tight fabric of the sweater, “You’re so cute when you worry about me, doll.”

There goes the pleasant exchange we’ve been having up until now. My voice became devoid of any expression besides the glare I threw at him, mirroring him as I crossed my arms in front of my chest, “I’m not cute. I’m merely saying you’ll probably catch a cold since we’ve been out in the rain not even fifteen minutes ago. And since you’re a singer you should be taking a lot more care of yourself.”

Mingi remained silent for a few seconds, until I watched a light hue tinge his cheeks. Was he blushing because I was lecturing him? Just what in the hell?!

“You’re right, sorry.” Mingi mumbled, but showed no intentions of actually following through with my words as he walked further inside the room, sitting at the table, feet up on the chair as he hugged his long legs to his chest. For such a tall and broad man, he looked extremely tiny sitting on that chair right now.

“Uh,” A little confused by the turn of events, I looked around the kitchen, trying to remember the initial purpose of me coming here, “Right. You don’t like tea, so we have coffee or hot chocolate to warm us up, which one would you like?”

Mingi’s eyes lingered on me for a second too long, taking in my whole being before his eyes settled on my face again, a smile so genuine settling on his lips that his eyes were sparkling, “Hot chocolate is fine.”

I hummed, a little breathless, then turned to open the cabinet above the microwave to take out two tall mugs for the hot chocolate. For some reason, I didn’t mind Mingi’s eyes following my every move as I tinkered around in my kitchen, taking everything I needed in my hands to prepare them on the counter. The thought of having Mingi inside my home, sitting in my kitchen, wearing my ex’s clothes, acting like we’ve been friends since forever seemed to hit me at once as I froze for a second while pouring water inside the second mug, Mingi’s mug. And what was even more surprising was not finding any thoughts that suggested that this was wrong, that I shouldn’t be doing this, that Mingi didn’t belong inside my kitchen. I didn’t want to dwell more on why it all felt so right, so instead, I watched as the mugs whirled around in the microwave, locking these thoughts away for later…I knew they’d come back late at night to haunt me, it’s just how it always was.

Mingi clearing his throat gained my attention as I glanced back at him, and tried not to look too long. The way Yunho’s clothes perfectly fit Mingi’s form was alarming, albeit the sweatpants seemed to be slightly too long for Mingi. I’ve had Yunho’s clothes since highschool, which was a few good years ago, yet they still fit Mingi. It made me wonder if the two ever exchanged clothes or wore something matching, like best friends would do for fun. I know Yunho had once mentioned having matching rings with Mingi, but back then I was too jealous about their closeness to ask any further questions about any other matching items they had. And it was a little surprising just how well Mingi’s skin tone was complimented by the colors of Yunho’s old sweater, Mingi’s necklaces sitting on top of the knitted fabric. That sweater was one of my favorite’s while Yunho and I were dating, Yunho always seemed to be glowing when he wore it. At some point I had even forgotten that I still had it. Perhaps I should do something about the contents of that box, join my mother next month in her frenzy cleaning marathon and throw out its contents.

The microwave pinged and I took the two mugs out, realizing that Mingi and I had been staring at each other for at least a good minute, my cheeks flushed again. A soft chuckle was heard behind me, but I ignored it for my own sake. The silence didn’t last for longer as I opened the little packages containing the hot chocolate powder to pour into our cups, “This might sound crazy, but I swear I’ve seen this exact sweater on Yunho quite a few times.”

I froze, thankful that I had my back to Mingi as panic flashed over my face. Deep breaths, I had this. Mingi didn’t have to know, I could lie my way out of this. And so, I forced a small smile on my face as I faced him while walking to the fridge, “Really? Well, coincidence, maybe. It’s my cousin’s sweater, he forgot it here once, but as he lives overseas he never came to get it and my mother just placed it away for when he comes to visit us.”

I didn’t have one single male cousin. Let alone cousin’s that lived overseas.

“Oh,” Mingi mumbled as he picked at an undone string on the sleeve of Yunho’s sweater, “Yeah, that could be it, a coincidence, I mean. Besides, my memory is a little fuzzy, I might be wrong.”

I gulped away the guilt that suddenly bloomed in my chest and grabbed the whipped cream, raising it up, “Whipped cream for your hot chocolate?”

I grinned at Mingi as he slowly shook his head, “I drink it simple.”

“Really?” I asked surprised as I walked back to the mugs, “Not even with marshmallows?”

Mingi shook his head with a small smile and so I mixed his powder with the warm water, handing it to him. Mingi had a fond smile on his lips when he took it, his cold fingers lightly brushing against mine, making me blush like a stupid schoolgirl who has a crush. And I do not have a crush on anyone, let alone on Song Mingi. I swiftly turned around, hoping that Mingi didn’t notice me blushing as I quickly put whipped cream in my hot chocolate and stuck two marshmallows in it, putting everything away quickly. I turned to face him as I took a sip, leaning against the counter. Mingi sat in a cross-legged position on the chair as he had the mug in his hands, ring clad fingers wrapped around the warm ceramic. I couldn’t help myself as my eyes lingered on his painted nails, slowly trailing up to Mingi’s face. His black fluffy hair fell in his eyes, obscuring his sharp eyes slightly as they were devoid of the black eyeliner now, a few blemishes tainting his otherwise glowing skin around his jaw, glasses slipping low on his tall nose, and plump lips red and slightly wet from how much Mingi always licks his lips. The simplicity of his whole being has never looked more attractive than right now, and as Mingi opened his mouth to say something, I was startled by such alarming thoughts, and so I hurried out of the kitchen.

“Let’s go up to my room!” I called out, on the brink of crying from all these stupid emotions I was suddenly feeling, trying to calm my crazily beating heart. Who allowed my brain to think in such way of Song Mingi? When did I even start considering him attractive? He was annoying, obnoxiously loud, arrogant and irritating, there was absolutely nothing to like about him or find in him attractive. I had to get a grip of myself right now! Mingi’s footsteps were dull as he followed after me, probably surprised that I had waited for him at the top of the stairs, unknowing of the storm inside my head, matching the raging storm outside. Lightning flashed every two seconds, skies rumbling with thunder, shaking even the ground at times. I hated storms, but suddenly it wasn’t as unbearable as before. When Mingi stood next to me, I lead us towards my room and pushed the door open, leaving it like that as Mingi walked in once I stepped aside for him, allowing him inside my safe space.

I have never been consciously proud or embarrassed of what my room looked like, the thought of what others thought of it absent up until right now. As Mingi walked further inside, head turning each and every way, taking everything in, suddenly I realized I was scared of what he would think. My walls were painted a light grey, on purpose, and there was little to no space left bare except for the wall on which the window was. My bed was pushed up against the wall to your left just as you walked inside, sketches that I have done throughout the years plastered up and put on display, my very first drawing even making it up on my wall. It was my little personal museum, a way of reminding myself of where I started out and how much I have evolved ever since, and even how much I was still changing as I was experimenting with my styles, learning a new technique in the class of Mr. Yoon. The desk across from my bed was messy, like I have said, it was littered with everything I needed to have at hand. Pencil holders filled to the brim, at least five of them, then there were brushes and little paint tubes littered all over it, notebooks and discarded sketches sitting underneath it, with my laptop hanging just a little dangerously off, not having paid much attention where I have put it this morning. A plain canvas was spread out on the little free space I still had, a project I had planned on starting today, now postponed for tomorrow. The wall above my desk had three modest shelves filled to the brim with books and some vinyl’s I have started collecting not long ago, pots and plants hanging off from the sides. The wall around the shelves was decorated by posters and pictures of my favorite bands, a few of my favorite paintings mixing in with them. The little stand next to my desk had my vinyl player, plants underneath it and around it, little ones. And then in the corner there was an old guitar that once had belonged to my mother, who has had a phase back in highschool and dreams of becoming a band member, famous and rich. She didn’t have the heart to gift the guitar to anyone, so she’s always kept it and passed it on to me once I was old enough. I never had an affinity for playing any instruments, but I do enjoy good music. A mix of old and new artists making it in that mix, actually—perhaps Noir Zenith slowly becoming one of them too, but Mingi didn’t have to know that. My closet was to the right just as you walked in, and it was of dark and sturdy wood, expanding from the ceiling to the floor. I had a little mirror right on its right side, the wall above and behind it, going right behind the door even, littered with my favorite painter’s paintings. Of course, they were only prints made at the local copy shop, but that didn’t matter. Fairy lights hung above my bed and from the lamp on the ceiling. The two nightstands on either side of my bed were more organized than one would expect from me, little makeup buckets placed on the one closest to the window, charger cable and some headphones sitting on the dark wood. The one nearest to the door had pictures of myself and my mom, and of Seulgi and I on display with a little clock, its drawer so filled with notebooks that I couldn’t quite close it. Thankfully the drawers of my desk weren’t so filled, I had just rearranged them last week, one evening when I was too restless to sleep.

Mingi was quiet as his mouth was slightly open, eyes wide as he took everything in, eyes falling onto my bed. I followed his sight and was mortified to find my biggest sketchbook open and displaying a quite realistic sketch of Mingi performing on stage. It was from the night I had a breakdown and Mingi found me in that diner. Seulgi had sent me some pictures she had taken of Wooyoung and accidentally slipped in one with Mingi too, and because the image just wouldn’t leave my mind, I knew I had no choice but to draw it. I dived for the sketchbook as if my life depended on it, all of it happening so fast I hoped Mingi didn’t actually catch what the drawing—or better said, who—the drawing was of. I shut it closed and pushed it off the bed, the light thud loud in the silent room. When I turned to look at Mingi, ready to face his smug face and taunting words, I was surprised to find his attention on something completely different. Of course, I should’ve expected from a man who plays in a band to be enamored by the vintage guitar in my possession. Its body was a light blue and had cherry blossoms painted over it, something my mother admitted to doing so, which lead to an argument with her father back in the days when he had seen the “damage” my mother had done to the pricey guitar.

“Is that a Martin D-19?” Mingi gushed as he walked toward the guitar, mouth hanging open. My eyebrows raised at his knowledge about it upon one glance. To me, it looked like a regular acoustic guitar. But then again, I should’ve expected it from a music major and a guy who has a literal band and plays the bass.

“Yeah, it was my mother’s.” I answered as I set my mug on the nightstand and sat at the edge of my bed, watching the awed expression on Mingi’s face. He had placed his mug by the foot of my desk as he crouched down, admiring the guitar from up-close.

“It’s absolutely beautiful.” Mingi whispered, fingers carefully tracing its body. Not even at gun point would I have admitted my next thought, which was of just how beautiful Mingi looked in this exact moment. Lightning flashed and the ground shook with the intense thunder, making Mingi tense for a second before he turned back to face me with the prettiest smile I have ever seen on someone.

“Your mother knows how to play it?” He asked, sounding enthusiastic. I was breathless, but after a big gulp, I forced my brain to function.

“Yeah,” I answered with a small smile, “she was a big rock lover back in the days, even wanted to start her own band. But due to her parents negative reactions to it, she unfortunately had to give up on that dream and do something more ‘real’.”

I rolled my eyes at the end of my sentence, not very fond of my grandparents. They weren’t bad people, but they also treated my mother harshly, and even myself, always asking about my future plans and straight up crying when I told them I wanted to become a painter. I saw the way Mingi’s face hardened for a second, but I knew he didn’t want to talk about it as he became expressionless quickly after. I was curious what made his mood become sour so quickly, if he perhaps related to what I have said in some way, but I wouldn’t prod. If he wants to tell me, he will sometime. So, instead, as a distraction, I scooched up further on my bed and patted the mattress next to me with a lazy smile, watching Mingi’s eyes slightly widen. He looked a little shy as he grabbed his mug and rose up to his full height, steps almost hesitant as he approached the bed, making me snort. It made Mingi narrow his eyes as I crossed my legs underneath myself as he kneeled on the bed and then settled beside me, long legs extended as he playfully wiggled his feet left and right. I chuckled as I clasped my hands together, letting them rest in my lap as Mingi took a sip of his hot chocolate. The silence was comfortable between us, the harsh rain hitting the windows loudly, wind rocking trees harshly, and the lightning and rumble a constant background noise.

“Last time when we performed at Outlaw, when you didn’t come,” Mingi paused and turned his head to look at me, “you know, when we met at the diner—”

“Let’s not talk about that.” I muttered with a grimace and Mingi hummed, licking his lips.

“Right, so, that night,” His voice was quiet, lips pulling into an abashed smile, “the crowd was bigger than usual, at first I blamed it on being a rowdier night, but it turned out those people were there to see us, Noir Zenith, to see me.”

I felt a small smile appear on my own lips, Mingi looking pleased with himself despite the light pink tinge of his cheeks, “And now Hongjoong might help us sign with a record deal, I feel like everything is finally coming together. Like my hard work is finally being rewarded.”

I bit my lower lip to stop myself from smiling too wide, subconsciously reaching out to hold Mingi’s arm as he looked me in the eyes, “That’s so good, Mingi! You deserve all the praise and attention your band gets, you’re really good.”

“You really think so?” Mingi sounded small, eyes wide in wonder as he flushed more. I knew I have said some things that weren’t the nicest, and now it made me realize that Mingi never deserved hearing those things from me. Yeah, I didn’t like the guy much at the beginning—not that now I like him more—but I still shouldn’t have shit on his music, on something he pours his whole soul and heart into.

“I really do, Mingi.” I slightly squeezed his arm, hoping that he could hear the sincerity in my voice as a wide and bright smile spread onto Mingi’s plush lips, so contagious that I found myself with a matching smile on my own lips. I chuckled, for some reason not wanting to release his arm just yet, the knitted sweater soft and warm under my touch.

“Lovely seeing you slowly turn into my number one fan, doll.” Of course, trust Mingi to ruin the moment. My eyes narrowed as I sighed loudly, slowly shaking my head. Mingi chuckled before taking a large gulp of his not so hot anymore chocolate, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Now, don’t get cocky.” I rolled my eyes, pulling my hand off his arm, watching as his eyes lingered where I have touched him, “I can recognize good work without becoming your fan.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Mingi mused playfully and I scoffed, bumping my shoulder into his before I went to retrieve my laptop from my desk, “Seonghwa and Wooyoung want us to try out new genres.”

“Really?” I asked surprised as I settled back in my previous spot, knee brushing against Mingi’s thigh, “Like what?”

“Well, nothing specific, just something little softer.” Mingi pursed his lips, fiddling with the mug in his hands, “Maybe something more indie rock.”

“I love indie rock,” I muttered absentmindedly as I powered on my laptop, “and why are you reluctant?”

Mingi seemed surprised that I had caught on, but it was quite obvious in his tone that he didn’t sound very enthusiastic about it, “Because my voice is rough and raw, unlike Seonghwa’s who’s smooth and almost angelic, and Wooyoung’s who’s can reach pitches I can only dream of and has a roughness that is absolutely soft at the same time, alluring.”

“Your voice is deep and powerful, it conveys every single emotion you’re feeling when you sing, Mingi. Your raspy tone alone tells a story, even without speaking the same language I would understand what you’re singing about. But just because it’s rougher and more powerful compared to Seonghwa and Wooyoung’s doesn’t mean it’s not beautiful and enchanting, Mingi.” Occupied with typing in the password to my laptop, I failed to notice the way Mingi’s breaths became shallow, the way his eyes bore into the side of my skull, “I think your voice is unique and desirable, you should be proud of it and not look down on yourself because of it. Many wish to have what you have, so really, don’t think any less of yourself because you think Seonghwa and Wooyoung are somehow better and more alluring. It’s not true, each one of you has their charm and well…I think you’re the most charming out of the three of you.”

I didn’t expect the expression on Mingi’s face when I turned my head to look at him. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were glazed over as his sharp eyes watched me intently, his breaths loud as his cheeks were red. My eyebrows furrowed, and for a second I worried I have made him angry, but the longer I looked, I realized the look in his eyes had nothing to do with anger. I gulped and averted my eyes, suddenly feeling my heart race again, biting my lower lip and trying to ignore the overbearing proximity between us. It was only our knee and thigh touching, yet it felt like Mingi was all over me, his scent still strong despite having changed out of his clothes and getting soaked by the rain. He always had a sharp scent surround him; it reminded me of pine trees.

“Thank you.” At last, Mingi found his voice and it was lower than before, goosebumps covered my skin as the low baritone of it traveled through my body. I nodded once in acknowledgement, not trusting my voice as I went on the internet to search for some movies to watch and pass the time while we wait for the storm to pass. If it passes, “Do you think rapping would fit my tone?”

It was an unexpected question, but as I mulled over it, I concluded that Mingi had the perfect timbre to both sing and rap, “Yeah, I think it would.”

I dared to take a peek at Mingi from the corner of my eyes, and was relieved to find the intensity gone from his face, instead, a soft smile grazed his lips as he finished his hot chocolate. He leaned back and placed his empty mug next to mine on the nightstand and fished his phone out of his pocket, “I found some old videos of me at school plays, let’s see what my music genius bestie thinks of them.”

I rolled my eyes, but nevertheless peered over Mingi’s shoulder in curiosity, “Don’t make fun of me, I’m merely stating something that someone with not musically trained ears hear. You should be more thankful.”

“I’m more than thankful, Y/N.” Mingi suddenly turned his head, our faces too close for comfort, so I quickly leaned back as he placed his arm on my thigh and pressed play on a video he pulled up from his gallery.

『Do you wanna, do you wanna own my mind, own my mind?

Do you wanna, do you wanna own my mind, own my mind?

Do you wanna know what the good, good, bad things all feel like?

Do you wanna, do you wanna own my mind, own my mind?』

            The movie of my choice was simple, The Quiet Ones. Nothing better than something a little spooky while there’s a wild storm raging outside, but to my utter surprise, Mingi looked terrified after only ten minutes of watching it. We were both leaning against the headboard of my bed, pillows behind our backs, and laptop placed between our lower bodies as our legs were stretched out. And despite the laptop being between us, Mingi’s shoulder pressed against mine not even five minutes after settling in our current spots. Trying to watch the horror movie, which was one of my favorite movie’s, turned out to be a fail, and I had no choice but to give in to Mingi as he only stopped whining when he got what he wanted. And that was watching a rom-com from the nineties, called 10 Things I Hate About You. I’ve seen it numerous times already, but it never gets old. There is something about the way the actors play their parts, and the plot too, that have me coming back to it with the same enthusiasm I had for it when watching it for the first time. At first, I thought Mingi hadn’t seen it and had only went along with my suggestion because he didn’t know what else to watch, but when he started quoting Patrick’s lines as if he were the character himself, I narrowed my eyes at him and poked his arm. After some painful jabs, he admitted that it was his favorite movie and he regularly rewatched it, especially if he was in a bad mood. That was a piece of information I wasn’t expecting from someone like Mingi. He looked like a guy who enjoyed tough and brutal movies, with the occasional romance movies if a pretty girl begged him to watch it together. Turns out, Mingi’s favorite genre is romance, and he hates horror, and depends on the type of thriller whether he likes it or not.

We found ourselves joking and laughing throughout the movie, making our own commentary about it after our first disagreement. Which was about whether Patrick accepting the money to charm Kat was right or wrong. Of course, it was very wrong to play with someone’s feelings and get paid for it too, but Mingi argued that if he never accepted it, then him and Kat would’ve never gotten together. And for that, I threw in the hypothetical scenario of him accepting money from Wooyoung so that he could take me out on a date and make me fall in love with him if that meant Wooyoung could have Seulgi date him. Mingi’s eyebrows furrowed and he declined such scenario, exactly proving my point why this was so wrong then, but he remained believing that for Kat and Patrick it totally worked out. And then he had the audacity to compare my stubbornness to Kat’s, making me call him just as stupid as Patrick was.

Time flew by as our laughter got louder, completely missing the way the rain had started to quiet down as we were immersed in the movie we were watching. It felt like a bubble was wrapped around us, isolating us from the cold world, and letting us enjoy ourselves without being so cautious of what we were saying. It felt nice. I couldn’t remember a time when I was able to let loose with someone other than Seulgi. It was a nice feeling, it made me excited in some way, completely making me forget that I was doing this with Mingi. He made it too easy to forget my worries and made me feel really comfortable all of a sudden, never stepping out of line—if we ignore his stupid flirting—and always keeping everything lighthearted. It was a nice change for once.

I groaned as I let my head fall back, lips pursed as my ass had gone numb from sitting so much in one place. Mingi snickered as Kat reversed into Joey’s car, clearly amused by the snarky remarks exchanged between the two characters. He was clearly into the witty exchanges, especially between Patrick and Kat, even having said that it makes Kat attractive how quickly and well she can shut Patrick down. I had told him that she wouldn’t have to do that if Patrick wasn’t so stupid most of the time, making Mingi roll his eyes at me, and say that I simply didn’t appreciate some good banter. Which wasn’t even true, I liked bantering if it had a smart purpose, not just to rile each other up, what was the point of that?

I licked my lips as my head lulled to the right, eyes falling on Mingi’s profile as he had his legs up, leaning forward as he hugged them around his knees with one arm. He was smiling and chuckling, pretty red lips pulled to the side, showing off his white teeth. His brows were dark, and his browbone being more prominent really sharpened his face in a very aesthetically pleasing way. Mingi’s face was very beautiful, and as an artist, I couldn’t help but admire it, and recognize it. So many pretty portraits of his face could be made, pity he doesn’t model. My lips pulled into a tiny smile at the thought of him modelling for me when we had to sketch human forms for our next class. I’m sure my professor would appreciate my drawings even more. Mingi’s glasses were discarded, and my eyes paused on his long nose, biting my lower lip just as Mingi chuckled again, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm. He sniffed before rubbing two fingers against his plump lips, wetting them not even a second later. I gulped as I suddenly wondered what they would taste like. It was such a startling thought that I jumped, but Mingi suddenly looking at me certainly scared me more. I gulped, instantly blushing as a friendly smile painted Mingi’s lips as he leaned back, placing his head on the pillow, and letting it roll to the left. Our gazes connected, and I wasn’t surprised to find my heart beating so quickly once again, my lips pulling into a straight line as I struggled to keep my breathing even. Mingi’s easy smile didn’t disappear as his eyes racked over my face, it only became wider.

There was a whole galaxy behind those beautiful deep brown eyes of his, they sparkled with life and an excitement I haven’t seen in anyone before. I wished that I could recreate that in my drawings, but I wasn’t good enough to give simple eyes such deep emotions yet. And I really wished I was able to do so, because the longer I stared into Mingi’s eyes, the more lost I got in them, thoughts and worries disappearing into nothingness. Mingi’s hand twitched for a second and I tensed when I felt a finger gently poking my cold hand. I gulped, but I wasn’t able to look away as ever so softly more fingers brushed against my skin like feather, Mingi’s bottom lip between his teeth. His actions were slow and cautious, probably afraid that I would pull away, but I was too captured by his alluring gaze to even think to move away from him. Slowly, his longer fingers intertwined with mine and his rings cut into my skin when I squeezed his hand, uncaring that it hurt a bit. I knew my cheeks were now surely very red, but I couldn’t actually be bothered to feel embarrassed, not when Mingi’s cheeks were dusted pink as well. His high cheekbones were flushed the pretties color they could have been, and I smiled as Mingi blinked, looking abashed. Somehow no words had to be exchanged between us, everything felt comfortable, scarily familiar. I haven’t felt like this…since my ex. And not even with him have I felt so safe and understood, it always seemed like there was some invisible barrier between us, and I never understood why. With Mingi, if I allowed myself to feel and be unafraid, no barrier lay between the two of us.

I gulped, eyes suddenly falling on Mingi’s lips as his tongue poked out just slightly to wet them, his plump lips red and full. I’ve never seen a person have such full lips, and it made me wonder if they were as soft as one would imagine them be. Aware that my eyes were glued to Mingi’s lips, I looked back up in his eyes, trying to ignore how insanely attractive his mole right underneath it made him look. There was something about Mingi’s bareface that was so charming and beautiful that it almost made me feel jealous of it. Mingi sniffed quietly, and his bottom lip was between his teeth again as his eyes fell to my lips, my rapid heartbeat halting for a second. Could he be having similar thoughts to mine? I wouldn’t know, but when Mingi’s eyes found mine again, they were just slightly more intense and sharper. Like he was determined and nothing could stop him. I gulped loudly as he moved his head, just lightly, but it was closer than before. My heart was beating like crazy, but almost as if I was under a spell, I found myself shifting my head just a little bit closer. Mingi’s eyes no longer were on mine, and as my lips parted when I licked them, I felt Mingi’s hand squeeze mine just a little bit more. I gulped as I proceeded to lean even closer, my eyes fixated on Mingi’s lips now too, just wondering and wondering infinitely if they were warm, soft, wet, and what they would taste like. I didn’t startle nor flinch when Mingi angled his body so that he could lean dangerously close, the bridge of his nose brushing against mine. His hot breath mingled with mine as our lips were parted, a pull so magnetic I couldn’t untangle myself from it even if I tried to. My eyes threatened to flutter closed as I pressed my nose against his, the side of our lips rubbing just a little together as I couldn’t breathe regularly anymore. Mingi’s lips pressed ever so slightly against the corner of mine, feather like, and it suddenly wasn’t enough. The distance, it was too big—even if it didn’t even exist between us anymore—and I squeezed his hand as I angled my head to finally press our lips together, Mingi’s breaths audible due to our proximity.

But suddenly, a door was slammed shut loudly, “Sweetheart, I made it home finally! I saw a car parked in front of our house, all’s good?!”

The curious and shrill voice of my mother sent Mingi and I flying away from each other, both of our eyes wide as I was panting, my whole body burning. I couldn’t look at Mingi as I scrambled to press pause on the movie and Mingi was off the bed in a flash, sprinting towards my window. I could still feel his hot puffs against my face, and I gulped as I forced myself to forget everything I felt just seconds ago.

“The rain stopped,” Mingi’s voice was hoarse, so gravely that I had to clench my fists to stop myself from doing something I would regret, “I will be going.”

“I’ll go downstairs, let my mom know you’re here.” My voice wasn’t better off, I sounded breathless. I felt lightheaded as I got off the bed, standing and pausing for a second.

“Right, I’ll change back into my clothes and then—”

“No,” I didn’t mean to sound desperate as Mingi’s eyes fell on me, I had to look away in embarrassment, “keep them, they are of no use to me.”

“Right.” Mingi cleared his throat and I quickly walked past him, thankful that he stepped aside, and hurried out of my room and down the stairs. I took a deep breath to compose myself as I heard my mother placing down plastic bags in the kitchen. I needed to behave like everything was fine, when nothing was fine anymore.

“Hi!” My greeting was high pitched and way too cheery, my mother’s eyes narrowed when she saw me standing in the doorway, “Glad you made it home, the storm was awful.”

“It really was.” My mom grimaced as she continued unpacking the groceries, “You got home alright?”

“Yeah, uhm, actually,” I gulped and bit my lower lip as I heard Mingi coming down the stairs, “a friend from university drove me home as it was already raining, and he, uhm, stayed over. Because the rain was so bad he wouldn’t have been able to drive home. You know, safety measures and all.”

My mother paused and looked up at me with both of her eyebrows raised, “He?”

And on cue, Mingi appeared next to me, glasses pushed up on his nose adequately for once and hair not as messy as before, “Hello, my name is Song Mingi.”

“Nice to meet you, dear.” My mother’s eyes were glinting, looking way too happy for someone who was just introducing themselves. I was afraid of what would come, so, I grabbed Mingi’s arm and guided him towards the coat hanger.

“Mingi’s leaving, mom.” I said as I let go of his arm, averting my eyes as he wore his shoes and pulled on his jacket.

“Already?” My mom asked with a pout, coming to stand in the doorway, “Don’t you want to stay for dinner, dear?”

Mingi froze, eyes first finding mine before he looked at my mother with a polite smile, “Don’t worry, Mrs—”

“Oh, don’t be all formal with me, I hate that shit.” My mother chuckled and winked at him, “Call me Boyoung.”

Mingi gulped, seemingly taken aback by my mother’s behavior. I couldn’t help but chuckle quietly, knowing how surprising the contrast between my mother’s personality and mine was. Sadly, I haven’t taken after her when it comes to my attitude, but that’s fine.

“Well, Boyoung, thank you for your offer, but my friends and I actually agreed on dining out tonight.” Mingi’s excuse sounded real, so I knew he wasn’t lying. I gulped when my mother threw me a very slick glare, almost saying that this was my fault. I rolled my eyes, offended by her assumption.

“That’s a pity, dear,” My mother pouted, but soon a bright smile appeared on her lips, “But you are invited for whenever you feel like having dinner with us, right, my starlight?”

I tried not to glare at my mother for the outrageous nickname, especially when I saw Mingi’s lips twitch in amusement. I told her not to call me that in front of others so many times, “Right, mom.”

My mother chuckled, all too aware of my dislike for the nickname, before her eyes landed on Mingi again. There was a brief pause, one too awkward for my liking, and then Mingi was clearing his throat and opening the front door.

“Uh,” He made eye contact with me briefly, “talk to you later.”

“Wait,” My mother’s eyebrows furrowed as Mingi stepped outside, trying to adjust the strap of his backpack, “Aren’t those Yun—”

“Talk to you later!” I loudly said, making sure to send my mother a very alarmed look as Mingi froze for a second before he hummed quietly and took off towards his car.

The air was chilly and humid due to the harsh rain, and as I closed the front door, I knew I had a lot of questions to answer when my eyes fell on my mother’s amused face.

❱❱ Next chapter

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lol, this is the surprise I mentioned...I saw this post and it would just not leave my mind, besides, I think it's very fitting for our plot, no?

[mypimpademia]

— Bad Religion

Teen! Gojo x Teen! gn! reader

TW: Light angst, unrequited love (gojo experiences heavy limerence), swearing

Note: Set during Gojos high school years. Based on the song “Bad Religion” by Frank Ocean.

Gojo Satoru may be god among men, but gods pray too.

He’s worshipped you since the moment he laid eyes on you, he’d kiss the ground you walk on and lay in your path so your feet never touch it.

He wasn’t sure if you didn’t know or didn’t care, but he was so entirely devoted to you that it didn’t even matter.

“It’s never gonna happen.”

Suguru’s voice fell on deaf ears, his friend far too focused on his so called “one true love”. He was practically burning holes into you with his stare, but the thought of you catching him didn’t cross his mind.

“Stop being creepy,” Suguru spat, nudging Satoru to catch his attention this time.

Satoru kissed his teeth, “I am not being creepy,” he defended. “Don’t they look incredible today?”

Suguru couldn’t help but cringe at the lovesick expression on Satoru’s face. It was dramatized with the intent of aggravating him, but he knew better than anyone that it was still very real.

“You say that everyday.”

It’s true, Satoru did say that everyday. But it wasn’t his fault you always looked so incredible.

Before Suguru could even blink, Satoru was on you like a magnet.

“Hey Toru,” your voice rang like a church bell. You missed it, but the staggering 6’3 boy’s knees buckled at the sound for a moment.

“You wanna go get boba with me later?” He was so enthusiastic, practically bursting at the seams with glee.

You felt bad saying no.

“Sorry Toru, I can’t today,” you frowned, and so did he. “Nanami is helping me study after school today, but another time, yeah?”

Satoru could feel hot spit pooling at the back of his throat, the thought of you being with someone else when you should’ve been with him made him sick. Nanami was his friend, but in that moment, he wished unspeakable things upon him.

“Toru, are you okay?” You asked, waving a hand in his face.

“I’m fine,” he’s not. “I was just thinking of when I’m free next,” he’s always free for you.

“Of course, just let me know, m’kay?” You smiled, and that was more than a blessing to him.

Satoru both couldn’t fathom and couldn’t stop imagining the thought of you being with someone else. How could you do that to him?

How could you do that to him when he was so in love with you, so devoted? He’d get on his knees if you asked, pray if you wanted, give you his life if you wanted, how could you?

Satoru had always heard that prayer was the only thing that could save someone, but as far as he was concerned, you were the only one he wanted to pray to.

Whether loving you was a cult or a religion, if you had no followers, he was as good as dead.

But unrequited love is nothing but a one man cult, and it’s a bad religion to love someone who could never love you.

—

Thank you for reading, comments and reblogs are appreciated, follow for more <3

—

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Send in an ask or DM me to be added to all taglists, or fill out my form to be added to select ones.

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE NEW GENERATION SUPERSTARS | TO A GOOD SEASON

fandom. formula one & mcu

about. ollie and y/n talk for the first time... even if it's over text. takes part right after the strategy reveal

content warnings. smau, not edited/proofread

notes. have this first chapter before i dip into my holidays hehe

hey y/n! i hope you don't mind me reaching out, but i thought it would be good, since we're the only rookies and never properly met :) to a good season!

oh hi oliver! i don't mind at all, thank you for the message. to a good season for us

are you busy with preperations as well?

yeah

ferrari is definitely a step up from f2, haven't had a free minute for weeks now

welcome to f1 lol 😂

leclerc treating you well? it must've been a mess with sainz...

no worries, charles has been very welcoming, i'm really honored to be his teammate. and the thing with carlos... yeah, it was a bit, but we actually get along well

good good, wanna see you racing and not getting distracted by some bitch fighting in the garage

lmao 😂😂

nah nah, all good. to be honest, he's still a bit prickly about how ferrari and lewis handled those rumors... but well, it isn't really my business

good good

have to run, dad wants to wrap up our moves to ny

but we'll see each other soon, yeah? lemme know when you have time for a proper talk, we definitely have to stick together as rookies

the grid can be a cruel world

alright, have a nice day! don't know about free time yet, but the lastes we'll see each other will be in bahrain

awesome, till then oliver :)

you can call me ollie

let's meet up in bahrain

hello to you too, y/n

hello ollie

so, let's meet up

i'll be there a few day earlier, you as well?

i actually planned to come with ferrari, but i can come earlier!

awesome. you can entertain me then :)

what about the rest of your team?

kev is back with his family and doesn't want to leave them too early, my dad is busy because the president is an incompetent fuck, harley and peter are working on publishing a paper before they join and the rest is just generally busy

damn. alright, as long you plan everything? i have nothing prepared lol

sure! we can go training together and i know a few nice places we can hit before the stress begins

great!!

i'll send you the data later, don't worry, i'll pay for the hotel

you really don't have to

i don't care, you're hanging out with me, i will pay for stuff. i know you could stay at home but you're gonna spend time with me so shut it

alright

hehe, until bahrain. can't wait!!

until then, y/n 😊

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ARKHAM MAID 2024

[aernx]

𓂋˚˖ IT’S A WRAP ! ૪ ࣪˖ 이희승﹙🐋﹚

SYN𝟬PSiS ꊥꊥ wrapping is easy when it comes to dumplings. but when it comes to your feelings…not so much. after getting separated from your childhood nemesis, lee heeseung, you think your life will go smooth like butter (js like what BTS sang). but fate has other plans when he was forced to help around in your family’s dumpling restaurant.

or in which 𓍯 heeseung only realizes how strong your influence is in his life after your recent departure for an exchange student program in japan. now that you’re back, he can’t bring himself wanting to let you go.

PART 2/2 OF THE LOVE LASTING DREAM SERIES

PAiRiNG ˖͢   non idol! lee heeseung x non idol! fem reader

GENRE   ⃕˖ childhood enemies to lvrs, smau w written parts, romance, crack, slice of life, hs au

⚠️ curse words, angst, denial!!!, constant pining lol

FEATURiNG   ⃕˖ enhypen, txt, chaewon (lesserafim)

status. discontinued 𖡋 oneshot ver

╰╮25 / 06 / 23 — tba

TAGLiST ˖͢   open ! send ask or comment to be added in ><

꒰ 🧾 ꒱ ÆRiN’S NOTES ! this is all a work of fiction & none of it is real! this smau is only for fun or laughs ykyk. this is also a spin-off of my niki smau here! u don’t hav to read it but js know rikiyn will make some cameos! (the yn here n there is different ofc)🥛 means there will be written parts !

⌗ PR𝟬FiLES ◜ ONE ◞ ◜ TWO ◞ ◜ THREE ◞

ıllı SiDE A

𝟢𝟢1. i don’t miss her

𝟢𝟢2. one thread hug

𝟢𝟢3. dream on, lee 🥛

𝟢𝟢4. climbing expert

𝟢𝟢5. mama lee supremacy

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT

MORE — TBA !! ( titles may change )

© aernx / do not steal, copy, translate — hope you enjoy my works! and let me know if you have any suggestions ! my inbox is always open if u wanna talk !

nets ! @enhanet @hyfenet

[a-b-riddle]

Boundaries

Just to address a few things

Scroll to the bottom to see the gist of it but if you had any questions about certain things that are okay/not okay.

Taglists: You won’t get blocked for asking lol. I know it’s a common thing, but I just don’t do it. It’s hard enough to have the motivation to post and so many of you ask to be tagged in the next part that it’s a lot for me to keep up with.

Negative comments: I like criticism when it helps. If all you’re going to say is “hey, this sucks” I’m gonna block you lol. I don’t get paid to do this. But if you are saying “hey this makes me think reader is white or black or less ambiguous” point. it. out. Please. If it is going to help me improve my writing or your experience reading it, say something. If you don’t wanna comment, message me. But being like “your characters are pieces of shit” doesn’t help and idgaf about listening to your opinion on that. But if something makes you feel out of place or I should have put a trigger warning and forgot, tell me.

Update?: I will no longer respond or engage with readers who ask for an update on the chapter and that’s it. Not what you liked or that you liked it in general. I appreciate the enthusiasm, but I won’t engage in a simple ‘when are you updating?’ in my asks. If you say “I liked _____.” “I can’t believe they ____” along side it, that’s perfectly okay.

Rudeness: you’ll be blocked. This isn’t goodreads. I’m not getting paid for this. This is a hobby. If you shit on my hobby, I will block you. If you are rude to other readers, you will be blocked.

Spamming with likes, comments, reblogs: I’ve said it once and l’ll say it again. You are not being annoying. You are not making me upset by going through my blog and reblogging whatever you want. I love that you are finding content you enjoy whether I wrote it or not. Idc if I get 99+ notifications because of you or see your name pop up on a daily. I do not mind. Quite the opposite 🫶🏻 don’t feel like you’re ever being annoying for trying to engage.

Requests: my requests are always open, but I may not always get to it. Right now I have 243 asks 💀 but you’re always welcome to send asks. Even repeatedly with different scenarios.

Political/religious views: my political and religious views are not always reflected in my writing, but I’ll go ahead and clear the air. Personally, I don’t think I could go through with an abortion or write about it, but I have literally offered to pay for abortions for my friends or hold their hand if that’s the route they chose. I am pro choice. From what I have read and my understanding of the situation, I am pro-Palestine. I am anti-military, pro-veteran. I am left leaning. I am a Catholic trying my best. I celebrate other religious holidays with my friends like Diwali and Ramadan when I can. I don’t care who you love as long as it’s not a minor.

In short, ways to get blocked:

Being rude to me

Being rude to others

Trying to argue about how a story should be written

Trying to bring your own politics onto MY blog.

Finding out you’re a minor.

[kingofbodyrolls]

My Heart's Home (m) | pjm | thirteen

🐴Chapter summary: Jimin thinks back on all this bad decisions, and how much he has truly hurt you. He loves you, and he wants you back, but unable to articulate his feelings properly, he finds himself writing a letter to you. 🐴Chapter title: Love Letter

🐴Pairings: jimin x reader (main), jungkook x reader (only happens once in the first chapter), jungkook x OC (jessi), namjoon x OC (jessi), yoongi x hoseok, namjoon x oc, seokjin x oc, taehyung x oc

🐴Characters: female reader (isn’t mentioned by name and no “y/n”), Jimin, Jungkook, Namjoon, Yoongi, Hoseok, Seokjin, Taehyung and four female original characters.

🐴Genre/AU: ranch!au, slice of life!au, soulmate!au, cowboy!au + smut, humor, fluff, romance, slow burn and angst

🐴Rating: mature/explicit/R18 – this is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact!

🐴Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

🐴Chapter warnings: low self-esteem, low confidence, hurt, sadness, overthinking, destructive thoughts, Jimin’s POV, angst, mention of sex.

🐴Status: completed 🥳

🐴Word count: 13.4k

🐴Taglist: @kookswifesblog, @kiki-zb, @babejinnie, @ownthesunshine, @allie-is-a-panda, @glllhjh, @bergandysam, @13-manggaetteok, @jeonsbabygirlsworld, @antisocial-mochi267,

*tumblr isn’t letting me tag you! There could be a lot of reasons for that, check out this lovely post about it.

🐴Now playing 💿 “Love Someone” by Lukas Graham. [Wanna listen to the serie’s playlist?]

🐴Author’s note: this is entirely from Jimin’s POV. Both OC and Jimin have been through a lot, and they have both hurt each other in different ways (but mostly it’s been Jimin hurting her 😭). In this chapter, we will get better insight into Jimin’s thoughts and his feelings all the way from the beginning! I really hope you like it— please let me know. I know Jimin has been behaving horribly, and I’m not excusing his behavior with the chapter, I’m simply saying that he is a flawed human like the rest of us, and no, we might not all agree or even understand his behavior, but.. 🥹 And if you don’t like these kind of chapters/stories were the story is essentially being retold from another character’s point of view, it’s fine, you are welcome to skip it, but if you want to know why Jimin has been acting like a douche, this one’s for you. Also, there are a bit of new stuff in here too, but it’s mostly just Jimin thinking about his bad behavior, lol, so it’s quite sad too 😭

🐴Author’s note— extra: I’m almost finished with writing the series and I got this cute idea to do a Q&A with the characters (questions for me is also okay). So, you can already send in your asks (could also be a comment/reblog, though I think asks are easier for me to keep track of). I’ll turn on anon asks, so if you prefer that, there’s that option. But please, be nice, okay? (not that I don’t expect that of you, I’ve just gotten nasty asks before). You can ask anything, to the characters, like why the behaved/thought/said something or what they didn’t say or do 🤭 You can also ask me about the story, the process or anything like that. As I said, the asks for the characters will be included in the Epilogue (I’ll also reply to the asks, I won’t reply right away, but keep them until the Epilogue will be released!)

You can send in your questions for the characters or me here → Ask away 💜*

*for people on AO3 you can also participate if you want to, just leave a comment (guest/anon or not), and I’ll reply to that and I’ll add your question in the Epilogue 💜

It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.Wanna see the book cover?

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“We have enough to guide usWe have enough to lastWe’re not aloneWe never wereYou and I aren’t lostOh hold me very tightlyHold me fast and strongI am your loveWon’t stray from youYou and I belong” ‘My Heart is Like a River’ by Rebecca Lavelle

Fuck.

This was the last thing he expected. 

He never envisioned this moment, the one where you’d walk away, leaving him shattered and angry. He didn’t want this. Not in the slightest. Yet here he is, consumed by a turbulent mix of sorrow and self-directed fury, haunted by a year’s worth of regrettable decisions. He’s unable to find sleep, which is why he sinks into the couch at night, his knuckles white with tension as he grips a pen, its tip poised over the stark emptiness of the paper laid out before him.

He grasps the reasons behind your decision to end things, but the ache it leaves behind is unbearable. It’s a raw, searing pain that gnaws at him relentlessly. Understanding that he’s the architect of his own misery only compounds the agony. How does he begin to convey the depth of his remorse, the magnitude of his love for you? Every mistake he’s made weighs heavily on his conscience, a burden he’s not sure he can ever fully unburden. The prospect of reaching out to you now feels daunting, uncertain. He can still vividly recall the anguish etched across your face as you uttered those words, and the thought of adding to your pain is unbearable. For too long, he’s been a source of hurt, and the realization cuts him to the core. 

He despises himself for causing you so much pain.

Lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts, he grapples with the enormity of his love for you and the depth of his remorse. Words, he knows, can only scratch the surface of what he truly feels. How does one encapsulate a torrent of emotions in mere letters? Yet, he resolves to try, to lay bare his heart in this letter, hoping that somewhere amidst the ink-stained pages, you’ll find a glimmer of understanding, a shard of forgiveness.

As he traverses the hallway, the resonating clinks of heels guide his steps, drawing him towards the kitchen like a siren’s call. Entering, he beholds a vision: a woman, clad in a summer dress that dances with every step, her attire an incongruous yet captivating sight against the rustic backdrop. A wry smile tugs at his lips as he observes her, her presence a curious enigma, tinged with a hint of déjà vu. Could it be? Has he crossed paths with her before, or is she merely a figment of his imagination, conjured from distant memories?

“Can I help you?” He ventures, his tone a blend of curiosity and a subtle undercurrent of intrigue. His gaze lingers on you, tracing the contours of your form, an unspoken question hanging in the air between you. Yet, met with silence, he repeats his inquiry, his voice carrying a note of gentle persistence.

“I’m so sorry,” you stammer, the nervous energy palpable in your voice as you fidget with the folds of your dress, “I’m looking for Jessi?”

He chuckles warmly, a playful glint in his eyes as he flashes you a disarming smile. “Who are you?” His curiosity piqued, he leans in slightly, intrigued by your unexpected presence.

“I’m Jessi’s sister,” you declare confidently, your arms folding beneath your chest. As the realization dawns on him, he’s flooded with a mix of surprise and nostalgia. Of course, you’re Jessi’s sister! How could he have missed it? Memories come flooding back, of days spent playing together as children, and he can’t help but feel a rush of warmth at the sight of you, his childhood friend. A hint of that old crush resurfaces, sending his heart racing in his chest.

His cheeks warm with a blush, though he fights to keep it concealed. Admitting that his crush on you never waned might be too much, too soon. “You don’t remember me?” He ventures, a flicker of hope in his eyes, yet tinged with apprehension. The thought that you might not recall him is unsettling; after all, he had his own struggles recognizing you, despite the unmistakable familiarity.

As you simply stare at him, he adds, “It’s me, Jimin,” a hint of self-realization accompanying his words. It dawns on him that he never properly introduced himself, contributing to the confusion.

“Park?” You echo, incredulity weaving through your voice as you study him, and a soft chuckle escapes him, granting you a moment to recollect the countless hours spent playing together.

“Yeah! Don’t you remember? We played together when we were kids,” he chuckles warmly, gently nudging your memory in the hope of rekindling the moments of your childhood, now flooding vividly back to him.

You were such a vibrant and spirited girl back then, and you’re just as captivating now. You used to play games with him and your sister, embarking on countless adventures around your ranch and his parents’ property.

As recognition dawns upon you, he observes the tension in your features melting away, replaced by a sense of familiarity. Gesturing for you to take a seat, he retrieves a glass of water, all the while marveling at your presence. You look breathtaking, and the realization that you’re back hits him like a tidal wave. It’s been two decades since he last saw you, yet the memories flood back with a vengeance, reigniting the flames of that childhood crush in his heart.

“I’m sorry about your mom,” he offers his condolences, aware of the complexity of losing a parent, especially considering the strained relationship you’ve had with her for years, details he gleaned from your sister. Your expression shifts into one of pain, but you quickly dismiss it with a “It’s whatever,” though he senses it's anything but. Respectful of your boundaries, he refrains from probing further, though he silently wishes you’d open up. If ever you needed someone to talk to, he’d be there in a heartbeat, ready to lend a listening ear and a comforting shoulder to cry on, no matter the hour.

He offers you a warm, reassuring smile, a gesture he knows he can manage in times like these. Just then, he hears the familiar footsteps of your sister approaching, “Aren’t you supposed to be working?” Her usual nagging about work trailing behind her like a persistent echo. But sometimes, he thinks, a brief respite is necessary before diving back into the grind. With a chuckle, he bids you farewell, promising to return to his tasks shortly. As he returns to his work, a contented smile graces his lips, though beneath the surface, his heart races with an unexpected flurry of emotions, stirred up by your unexpected presence.

As the barn party kicks off, Jimin finds himself consumed by thoughts of you, his mind drifting back to the encounter in the kitchen. It’s a strange sensation, akin to the giddiness of a schoolboy harboring a secret crush—except in this case, it's not just a youthful infatuation; it’s a reunion with someone from his past. When you and your father left the ranch, he never imagined seeing you again, the sudden departure leaving him with unspoken feelings he couldn't articulate at the time. He regrets not expressing his affection for you back then, but in hindsight, he knows you were both just kids, and such declarations might not have been taken seriously anyway.

Now that you’ve returned and his dormant feelings have resurfaced with a vengeance, Jimin feels an urgent need to express himself. He’s torn between the desire to reconnect with you as friends or dare to hope for something more. As he attempts to rein in his racing thoughts, he realizes just how awkward he can be around women, especially you, whom he holds in such high regard. But despite his nervousness, his affection for you outweighs his fear of awkwardness, propelling him to seek a meaningful connection with you once more.

The barn pulses with the rhythm of the music, matching the frantic beat of Jimin’s thoughts. He caught a glimpse of you earlier, but amidst the sea of people, he’s lost sight of you. The desire to reconnect with you burns fiercely within him, igniting the hope of perhaps mustering the courage to ask you out on a date. As he navigates through the crowd, he can’t shake the anticipation building in his chest, eager to find you and seize the opportunity to reignite your friendship.

As Jimin steps outside into the darkness, his heart races with anticipation, but what he encounters crushes him like a ton of bricks. His eyes land on you, pinned against the wall by his own brother, Jungkook, their heavy breaths echoing in the night. The sight drains the color from his world, leaving him feeling hollow and breathless. It’s a visceral punch to the gut, witnessing you entangled with his brother in such an intimate embrace. He can’t bear to look, the sickness rising in his throat threatens to overwhelm him. With a quick turn, he retreats back inside, his heart heavy with sorrow, his body trembling with a coldness that belies the heat of the barn.

Your eyes, reflecting surprise and sorrow, haunt his thoughts relentlessly. Jimin’s anger simmers beneath the surface, fueled by the sight of you with his brother. Jungkook’s magnetic charm is a curse Jimin knows all too well. It’s a pattern he’s witnessed countless times— his dates inevitably gravitate towards Jungkook’s allure, leaving Jimin feeling like a mere shadow in comparison. The pain of this familiar betrayal cuts deep, gnawing at his insides. He curses himself for his own hesitance, wishing he had seized the chance to connect with you before Jungkook’s spell took hold. Perhaps then, you wouldn’t be entangled with his brother now.

His chest tightens with a mix of fury and resignation. Rationality tells him you owe him nothing, yet the sting of rejection cuts deep. It’s a bitter pill he’s swallowed before, a recurring cycle of dashed hopes. Jungkook’s effortless allure always casts a shadow over Jimin’s prospects, leaving him feeling like fate’s perpetual underdog. The injustice of it all boils within him, a potent blend of anger and despair.

The weight of disappointment crushes his spirit, suffocating any semblance of enjoyment. What’s the point of staying at the party when the sight of you with his brother taints every corner of the barn? It’s a bitter pill to swallow, realizing he’s become a mere spectator in the game of love, always on the sidelines while Jungkook effortlessly steals the show. With a heavy heart, he contemplates leaving, unwilling to dampen the festivities with his darkening mood.

Jimin’s heart clenches at the mere thought of encountering you again, knowing all too well the anguish that awaits him in your eyes. Since witnessing you with his brother, he’s been ensnared by a whirlwind of hurt and resentment, emotions he’s been struggling to untangle. Your return, alongside your sister, feels like a cruel twist of fate, forcing him to confront the turmoil bubbling within him. Avoiding your gaze has become his coping mechanism, a feeble attempt to shield himself from the raw vulnerability lurking beneath the surface. Deep down, he still harbors affection for you, but the shadow of your entanglement with Jungkook looms large, casting doubt on any potential future between you. He doesn’t think you’ll ever be satisfied with him, now that you’ve been with his brother. The bitter realization gnaws at his soul, threatening to consume him whole. Yet, he knows dwelling on such thoughts serves no purpose, only deepening the wounds already etched into his heart.

“Where’s Kook?” Your sister’s inquiry cuts through the heavy silence, offering Jimin a fleeting respite from the tumult of his emotions. Grateful for the distraction, he exhales a silent sigh of relief, seizing the opportunity to avert his gaze from you, if only for a moment longer.

“In the barn fixing his bike, I’ll get him,” he responds with a forced smile, determined to maintain a facade of composure despite the turmoil within. As he strides past both of you, he catches the subtle shift in your gaze, but he refuses to acknowledge it, steeling himself against the flood of emotions threatening to engulf him. Ignoring you feels like self-preservation, a necessary shield against the ache in his heart.

Jimin locates his brother, and together they make their way back to where you and your sister stand. Jungkook, ever the cocky one, can’t resist a jab, his smirk evident as he quips, “Back for round two?”

Jimin scowls at his brother’s remark, finding him insufferable as usual. Anger bubbles within him, exacerbated by the widened shock in your eyes, as if they might pop out of their sockets at any moment. With an exasperated eye roll, Jimin brushes off Jungkook’s comment.

“No, thank you,” you sputter, and Jimin can’t help but feel a glimmer of relief, sensing that you’re not interested in his brother’s crude advances.

“You’re welcome anytime, babe,” his brother teases, winking at you, and Jimin suppresses a sigh. Jungkook’s flirtatious nature is no secret, but at this moment, Jimin can’t help but feel a twinge of irritation at his brother’s antics.

“Enough of that,” your sister declares, her interruption a welcome relief from the tension swirling in the air. Jimin exhales slowly, grateful for the distraction, as the mere thought of you and Jungkook ignites a fiery surge of jealousy within him. He knows delving into the depths of his unresolved emotions would only unravel him further, and he’s not ready to confront that turmoil just yet.

He catches the subtle glances you steal in his direction, but your eyes dart away the moment they meet his. It’s a confusing dance of fleeting interest, leaving Jimin bewildered and uncertain. After all, you’ve been intimate with his brother, so why would you show any interest in him? The ambiguity of your gaze sends his thoughts spiraling, unsure of what to make of the situation. Deciding it’s best to avoid further speculation, Jimin opts to keep his gaze lowered, wrestling with the tumult of emotions churning within him.

The bar door swings open, and there you are, clad in nothing but pants and a bra. His gaze darts to your anxious eyes, taking in the tremble of your body as you and your entourage make your way over to their table.

“Did you lose a bet or something?” Jungkook’s voice rings out, accompanied by a sharp whistle and a burst of laughter. Jimin rolls his eyes, frustration bubbling up at his brother’s relentless teasing of you.

He watches as you effortlessly roll your eyes at his brother’s teasing remark, your composure unshaken as you confidently take a seat.

“Well. Someone doesn’t share clothes. Apparently.” You quip with a hint of playful spite, directing your gaze at your sister, and he can’t help but chuckle, hastily concealing it behind a hand pressed to his lips.

You’re introduced to Yoongi and Hoseok, and Soo-ah hands you a beer, initiating conversation. Jimin finds his gaze lingering on your exposed skin, noticing the goosebumps forming and wondering if you’re feeling the chill.

“Aren’t you cold?” He notices how you bite your lip, but you merely shrug in response. Jimin considers offering you his shirt, though he’s unsure of how you’d react. Despite being comfortable sitting shirtless himself, he contemplates making the gesture anyway—

“Here. You can have my shirt,” his brother beats him to it, and Jimin grumbles, clenching his hands under the table in frustration. Damn it. He had wanted to offer you his shirt, but now he’s too late because he hesitated and over-thought the situation. Again. 

God, sometimes Jimin really despises his brother.

“Well, look who’s playing the gentleman,” Yoongi teases with a playful smack to Jungkook’s chest, and Jimin can’t help but roll his eyes once more. He’s well aware that his brother always has an agenda, always.

“Easier to pick up the ladies like this, anyway,” Jungkook remarks with a smirk, confirming Jimin’s suspicions. Jungkook may not be aiming to win you back, but he’s always on the lookout for the next pretty face. It’s moments like these that remind Jimin just how shallow his brother can be, always thinking with his dick instead of his brain.

As the table empties out, leaving just you and Jimin, a palpable tension lingers in the air, thickening with each passing moment. He can sense your uncertainty, and it mirrors his own nervousness. The weight of the unspoken words between you feels heavy, almost suffocating. Jimin shifts uncomfortably, unsure if he should break the silence or let it linger, unsure if his words will only add to the tension.

“I’m sorry if I did something wrong,” your hesitant voice cuts through the tension like a knife, breaking the suffocating silence that had settled between you. With a nervous expression, you fidget with your beer, your eyes betraying a mixture of apprehension and genuine concern.

His breath catches in his throat, surprised by your unexpected apology. Nodding gently, he gestures for you to elaborate, his mind racing with a blend of curiosity and cautious apprehension. Though uncertain of the reason behind your apology, he’s prepared to listen, his thoughts swirling with tentative guesses.

“I’m sorry I slept with your brother…” Your words cut through the air like a chilling breeze, each syllable heavy with the weight of regret. In a hushed confession, you lay bare the source of your apology, and he feels his chest tighten in response. His facade wavers momentarily, a flinch betraying the torrent of emotions raging within him. Beneath the veneer of composure, a tempest of anger swirls, threatening to engulf him in its fiery grasp.

“Why apologize for that?” His voice carries a hint of curiosity, a mask for the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. With a casual sip of his beer, he studies you intently, his eyes flickering with a mixture of emotions. You’re allowed to fuck whoever you want, he acknowledges inwardly, but the bitterness lingers, souring the taste of his thoughts. It’s not so much the act itself that stings, but the circumstances surrounding it—his brother, the witness to your intimacy. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, and he can’t help but lament the unfortunate twist of fate.

“It just seems like you’re angry with me… or something,” you add tentatively, your words laced with apprehension. He notices the nervous edge in your voice, the subtle tremor betraying your uncertainty, and how you avert your gaze, as if unable to meet his eyes.

“Look,” he starts, leaning in slightly over the table, his voice measured yet tinged with underlying emotion, “I’m not really angry. Maybe I’m more disappointed?” Despite his attempt at rationalizing his feelings, he knows deep down that anger brews within him, though its target remains elusive—whether directed at you or his brother, he’s unsure. After all, they’re all adults here, and dwelling on this resentment won’t change anything. Deep down, he knows he’s harboring a sense of anger, not necessarily at you, but at the recurring pattern where his brother always seems to come out on top. It’s a feeling of disappointment that runs deeper than just this one incident—it’s a narrative that’s unfolded over years, leaving him questioning his own worth. And he recognizes, it isn’t your fault; you’re just caught in the crossfire of a longstanding dynamic.

“You are, of course, allowed to sleep with whoever you want to. It’s just… it’s always him.” His words carry a raw edge, laced with a palpable mix of frustration and resentment. Jungkook’s recurring presence in such situations gnaws at him, a constant reminder of his brother’s tendency to overshadow him. Yet, even amidst his own turmoil, he realizes the futility of roping you into their tangled sibling rivalry. It’s an unhealthy dynamic, one he knows all too well, and he doesn’t want to drag you into its murky depths.

He watches as a wave of realization washes over your features, but he feels compelled to add more. “All women are drawn to him. He’s always fucking around. Not that I’m saying I want to be like that, but sometimes, it would be nice to feel noticed, you know?” Damn it. He said too much. Did he have too many beers? No, he’s barely finished his first bottle, and yet here he is, pouring out truths from the depths of his heart.

Damn it, why did he say that? He curses inwardly, realizing he’s delving into territory he’d rather avoid. He desperately needs to steer the conversation elsewhere, pronto.

“You know… When I saw you that day in the kitchen after all those years,” he starts tentatively, hoping to shift the focus away from his raw emotions.

He rakes his fingers through his hair, a gesture betraying the turmoil within. “I never thought I would see you again when you and your father left,” he confesses, a mixture of longing and regret bubbling beneath the surface, camouflaged by a forced chuckle.

His nerves prickle like a live wire, urging him to speak, even as his mind screams caution. “Did you know,” he blurts, the words tumbling out despite his better judgment, “I had a crush on you when we were kids?” His throat tightens with apprehension, berating himself internally for the sudden confession. Was it just one beer he had? Because why on earth would he reveal this now?

“I had no idea,” you reply, your voice laced with surprise and regret, your features softening with an apologetic expression. “I’m truly sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he chuckles, though the tension in his voice betrays his true feelings. His heart races with nervousness, cursing himself for his lack of restraint in revealing his past crush. But there's a deeper secret he keeps buried: his current feelings for you, perhaps even love. It's a precarious balance between wanting to confess and fearing rejection. He prays his mouth won’t betray him again, divulging more than he’s ready to admit.

Sensing the danger of delving further into emotions, he swiftly changes the topic, opting for safer conversational waters. Offering to fetch another round of beers, he steers the discussion towards lighter subjects. Yet, beneath his composed facade, he finds himself unnerved by you. There’s an undeniable allure to your demeanor— a blend of nervousness and confidence that both intrigues and intimidates him. He’s drawn to your self-assuredness, yet fears the intensity of his own feelings, wary of pushing you away with his overwhelming emotions.

“I’ve been considering heading back home. It just feels like I mess everything up…” You confess, your words tinged with uncertainty, and he feels a surge of emotion. Panic grips him at the mere thought of you leaving. No. No. He can’t bear the idea of you walking away, of missing out on the potential moments you could share together. Despite his internal conflict, a selfish desire whispers in his heart, urging you to stay, if only for a little while longer.

“No, no, you shouldn’t give up. Please, give it some more time,” he urges, his voice laced with genuine concern. Each word carries the weight of his longing, a silent plea for you to stay. Memories of his childhood flood his mind, reminding him of the warmth you brought to his heart. He can’t bear the thought of losing you again, not when he feels a flicker of hope reignite in his heart at your return.

Jimin has been surreptitiously observing you as you sort wool with Yoongi, stealing glances whenever he can muster the courage. Each time your eyes meet his, it sends a flutter through his chest, a silent reminder of the unresolved emotions swirling within him. He grapples with the realization that perhaps he’s been too quick to let his insecurities dictate his reactions, especially when he witnessed you with his brother. Yet, amidst the tangled mess of doubts and hopes, one thing remains clear—he still harbors feelings for you. With each passing moment, he wrestles with the notion of reaching out, of bridging the gap that has formed between you. Could there be a chance to mend what’s broken, to transcend the shadow of past misunderstandings? As he contemplates these questions, he can’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there’s a glimmer of mutual interest between you two. But how does one navigate the delicate dance of reigniting a connection fraught with uncertainties? Jimin finds himself at a loss, grappling with the complexities of his own heart as he yearns for a sign, a signal that could pave the way for a new beginning.

Caught off guard by the sudden outburst, Jimin’s thoughts scatter like startled birds as your sister’s sharp reprimand slices through the air. He can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for you, knowing firsthand the intensity of Jessi’s temper. Watching your gaze falter, retreating from the accusatory finger jabbing in your direction, he senses your discomfort like a palpable wave washing over the scene. A surge of concern floods Jimin’s chest as he worries about the impact Jessi’s harsh words might have on you. Could this tirade be the final straw, driving you away for good? The fear gnaws at him, a silent plea echoing in his mind for some semblance of peace to return to the tense atmosphere.

As you take a hesitant step backward, Jimin’s heart clenches with concern, his grip on the clippers loosening as he watches you dart towards the door. Without a second thought, he abandons the tools and bolts after you, propelled by a surge of urgency to catch up and ensure you’re okay.

“Please come back,” Jimin’s plea is tinged with desperation as he watches you retreat towards the house. His heart races with a sense of urgency, knowing he can’t let you leave without offering some comfort. He longs to reassure you that your sister’s harshness doesn't define your worth, that everything will eventually fall into place.

As you pivot, a look of anguish etched across your features, you confess, “I fuck everything up Jimin.” His heart aches at your admission, wondering what else burdens your mind. “I feel utterly useless on this ranch,” you add, your voice heavy with self-doubt. Jimin's resolve strengthens, determined to offer you the solace and encouragement you desperately need.

“It’s to be expected. You’ll get better,” he reassures you, his voice laced with sincerity. Despite his efforts to comfort you, he notices how you’ve withdrawn into yourself, lost in your own thoughts.

“Do you think I belong here?” Your question catches him off guard and he gapes at you, but he already knows the answer to your question, so it’s easy.

“I do,” he says, his voice carrying a depth of emotion that belies the simplicity of the words. It’s a plea, a fervent wish whispered into the air, a silent urging for you to see what he sees – that this place, this ranch, is where you truly belong. Deep down, he knows it’s selfish, but damn it, he can’t bear the thought of you leaving.

“I believe you just need time,” he offers with a gentle smile, though beneath it, he can feel the weight of your uncertainty. It’s a small offering of solace, but he knows words alone can’t ease the turmoil brewing within you.

“I don’t think I fit in, and I feel like an imposter,” you confess, your voice carrying the weight of uncertainty. Each word strikes a chord within him, a pang of sadness laced with determination. He can’t bear the thought of you feeling out of place, not when he envisions you finding your footing here, becoming a part of this place he calls home. He believes in you, in your ability to belong, and he’s willing to give you all the time you need to see it too.

One thing is a childhood crush, but delving into the depths of who you are now, the adult version of you, that’s what he craves. He yearns to unravel the layers, to discover if there’s a deeper connection waiting to be unearthed between you two, something more profound and meaningful than just fleeting feelings from the past.

As the rain cascades down upon both of you, Jimin’s attention isn’t on the weather, but on you, on your emotions. “We should get back” he suggests, aware that the rain shows no signs of relenting. Yet, amidst the downpour, he seizes a moment of boldness, reaching out to intertwine his fingers with yours. “You belong here,” he affirms, his touch conveying a silent plea for you to stay, to weather the storm together, not just the rain outside, but the uncertainties within.

He prays silently that his words and gestures are enough to anchor you here, but deep down, he understands he can’t dictate your choices. The decision to stay must be yours alone, driven by your own desires and dreams. Yet, a fervent longing swells within him, an unspoken wish that you’ll choose to remain, not for his sake, but for your own. Oh, how he yearns for you to stay.

You left. It’s a twist he didn’t see coming, yet somehow, it makes sense. Your sister’s relentless demands and the weight of your own insecurities pushed you away. He empathizes; Jessi’s temper can be overwhelming, and she hasn’t exactly rolled out the welcome mat for you. And your self-doubt about your skills on the ranch? He gets it. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and he certainly wasn’t a master of everything from the get-go either. Improvement comes with time, and he believes in your potential to thrive.

Why does he find himself standing in front of your city home, heart pounding against his ribcage like a caged bird? He knocks, and when the door swings open, you greet him with a mix of surprise and puzzlement, yet your smile, soft and tender, ignites a wildfire of hope in his chest.

“Jimin?” Your voice carries a blend of curiosity and caution, eyes darting around to confirm his identity, a flicker of uncertainty dancing in their depths.

“Hey,” he greets you with a hint of shyness, his voice slightly uneven as if your mere presence has the power to stir up a whirlwind of emotions within him. You have this uncanny ability to make his heart flutter and his nerves dance, rendering him almost breathless in your presence.

“Come in,” you invite, and as he steps across the threshold, his senses are immediately greeted by the cozy compact hallway, each corner whispering tales of your daily life within the confines of your two-bedroom apartment.

“What brings you here, Jimin?” You inquire, your eyes sparkling with curiosity and a hint of anticipation, inviting him to share the purpose of his unexpected visit. His heart races with the weight of unspoken words, debating whether to reveal the depth of his feelings, to confess how much he misses you and yearns for your return. Yet, he hesitates, fearing that such raw honesty might overwhelm you, opting instead to tread lightly into the depths of the conversation.

“I came here because there’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” he starts, his gaze wandering around your apartment. An easel catches his eye, displaying a painting in the corner. He hadn’t realized you painted. Memories of your childhood passion for art resurface, but he hadn’t expected you to continue. Your dedication surprises and impresses him. As he admires the artwork, he can’t help but think how much it reflects your beauty and depth, a reflection of the intricate layers of your soul.

“You mentioned wanting to talk?” You inquire, drawing his attention away from your paintings. There’s a hint of curiosity in your voice, and he notices the way your eyes search his face, as if trying to decipher his thoughts. He feels a sudden rush of nerves, realizing the weight of the conversation he’s about to embark upon.

“Sure, let’s go to a cafe and have that talk,” he proposes, a spark of anticipation igniting in his eyes, his heart quickening with the prospect of finally opening up to you.

You suggest heading to a nearby café, and he readily agrees, the anticipation building as you walk the short distance together. Your demeanor betrays a hint of anxiety, and he can’t blame you—after all, he did show up unannounced, eager to talk. Arriving at the café, you both place your orders, and Jimin can feel the nervous energy coursing through him at the thought of opening up to you. But as he steals glances at your radiant smile, he knows he needs to gather his thoughts and make this moment count.

As you dig into your chocolate cake, you turn to him with a curious glint in your eyes. “So, what’s on your mind?” you inquire, your voice carrying a mix of anticipation and intrigue.

He can’t help but chuckle nervously, a subtle tremor in his voice betraying his unease as his hand moves to shield his smile. “It’s about you actually,” he confesses, his gaze lingering on you, as if searching for the right words to convey the weight of his thoughts.

He watches intently as your eyes widen, your lips parting in shock. “Me?” You echo softly, the word hanging in the air, laced with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

He feels his heart quicken its pace, his palms moistening with nervousness. “We miss you,” he admits, his voice a blend of longing and reluctance. Jimin knows he shouldn’t reveal too much, shouldn’t tell you how much he misses you. Yeah, the other’s miss you too and your sister actually regrets how she had been treating you. The words are close to spill out anyway. He can’t help it. Your puzzled expression prompts him to elaborate, “Everybody back home.”

The words sting him like a slap in the face. “That place isn’t my home anymore,” you declare, and each syllable feels like a dagger to his heart. He knows deep down that your old home could be your sanctuary once more, if only you’d give it another chance.

“It could be,” he responds softly, his words laden with unspoken longing. He wrestles with the urge to confess how much he aches for your presence, but he reins it in, wary of overwhelming you. Yet, glimpsing your paintings in your apartment, he discerns a silent yearning for the ranch.

“Everybody misses you, even your sister,” he adds, hoping to bridge the chasm between your worlds.

You scoff at that notion, momentarily entertaining the idea that your sister orchestrated his visit. He almost finds it amusing. Sure, Jessi might regret her actions, but her pride likely won’t allow her to apologize. He came here of his own volition, driven solely by his feelings for you. And as he gauges your response, he wonders if your sentiments mirror his own. He longs for certainty before taking the next step, eager to discern if your heart echoes his.

You spend the remaining time engaged in conversation about his heartfelt conviction that you belong on the ranch. He earnestly endeavors to sway your decision, silently yearning for your return—not just to the land, but to him. Yet, he hesitates to voice these sentiments, aware of the weight they carry. It pains him to witness your despondency, your yearning for the solace of a home—a comfort he believes he could offer, if only you desired it. Eventually, you concede to mull over the prospect of returning, a small glimmer of hope that lifts his spirits.

He’s reluctant for the day to draw to a close, even after both of you have polished off your cakes. So, he proposes a shopping excursion, and as you amble down the bustling street, he revels in the simple joy of your company. Witnessing you try on various dresses fills him with delight, but it’s the moment you find one that makes you radiate with confidence that truly captivates him. As you stand before the mirror, the dress hugging your curves in all the right places, he’s struck by the desire to gift it to you. Your surprised reaction to his offer, accompanied by a blush that tinges your cheeks, only serves to further enchant him.

As you return to your apartment and settle in to order food, Jimin realizes he’s extending his stay beyond his initial intentions. He’s wary of overstaying his welcome, yet he finds himself relishing every moment spent in your presence. Together, you indulge in a satisfying meal, the aroma of comfort food filling the air. With appetites sated, you delve into a conversation that spans the years since you departed from the ranch. Each shared anecdote and exchanged experience bridges the gap of time, weaving a tapestry of shared memories and newfound connection.

As he opens up to you, Jimin shares the tumultuous story of his family, particularly focusing on his father’s betrayal and subsequent remarriage shortly after his mother's passing. Recounting these painful memories is a struggle for him, as he harbors deep-seated resentment, especially towards his father for his infidelity. To Jimin, loyalty is paramount, and the thought of betraying a loved one is unfathomable. He reflects on the challenging dynamic with Jungkook, his stepbrother thrust into his life against his wishes. Initially resistant to the idea of a new sibling, Jimin grappled with conflicting emotions, navigating the complexities of familial relationships with grit and resilience.

He notices your curious gaze, fixated on the subtle limp in his stride, a constant reminder of a past he’d rather forget. Jimin understands the unspoken question lingering in your eyes, the same one that everyone seems eager to ask about. It’s a topic he loathes discussing—the limp, the accident, and the haunting scar etched into his flesh. Yet, he opens up to you, albeit selectively, glossing over certain details. He shields you from the raw emotions that still cling to the memories, like the overwhelming fear that consumed him in the aftermath, or the excruciating pain that once threatened to steal his mobility forever. Despite the physical healing, the pain persists, a relentless echo of the trauma that reshaped his life.

As if drawn by an invisible force, your hand ventures to his thigh, your touch igniting a cascade of sensations that electrify his senses. Each stroke sends a jolt of pleasure through him, coaxing his heart into a frantic rhythm matched only by the whirlwind of thoughts racing through his mind. His body responds eagerly to your touch, craving more, yearning for the warmth of your hand in places where desire simmers just beneath the surface. Jimin knows he shouldn’t entertain these forbidden thoughts, but the allure of your touch is intoxicating, tempting him into a realm of pleasure he’s desperate to explore. With each passing moment, your hand inches closer to his dick, and he's powerless to resist the magnetic pull drawing him toward the world of lust.

“Is this okay?” Your gentle inquiry sends a surge of electricity through the air, and Jimin feels a wave of apprehension wash over him. He’s caught between the desire to surrender to the intoxicating allure of your touch and the fear of crossing a line he might not be able to uncross. Yet, despite the tumult of emotions raging within him, he manages to croak out a strained “yes,” his voice betraying the depth of his longing and the intensity of his arousal.

God damn it, he curses inwardly as a surge of desire courses through him, causing his body to react involuntarily. He shifts uncomfortably, prompting your hand to retreat apologetically as you murmur, “I’m sorry.”

He reassures you with a strained “it’s okay,” but inside, he’s reeling from the lingering sensation of your touch. Your hands had worked wonders, but it’s not just the massage that’s setting him alight; it’s the mere contact with you, igniting a dangerous blaze of desire within him.

He’s acutely aware of the charged atmosphere between you, a palpable tension that threatens to unravel with every passing moment. Seeking respite, you suggest watching a movie, and he agrees, grateful for the distraction. As the film unfolds, he finds himself more captivated by the way your eyelids flutter and eventually succumb to sleep, your head gently resting against his chest. With tender care, he brushes away the stray strands of hair that caress your face, his heart swelling with affection at the sight of you in such peaceful repose. He realizes, in that moment, the depth of his feelings for you—love, pure and unadulterated. Yet, the weight of uncertainty presses upon him like a heavy burden. Should he confess his love, risking the fragile bond of friendship that now exists between you both? Or should he continue to cherish these stolen moments, content in the knowledge that you’re by his side, even if only as friends?

“I love you,” he murmurs softly, the words slipping from his lips like a secret confession, a whispered promise to the sleeping form nestled against him. In the hushed stillness of the room, he finds solace in the act of vocalizing his feelings, the weight of his emotions easing with each syllable uttered. Though he knows you’re unaware of his declaration in your slumber, he takes comfort in the notion that the words hang in the air, a silent testament to the depth of his affection for you. Yet, as the echoes of his confession fade into the night, he realizes that his journey towards vocalizing his love has only just begun—a journey he’s determined to embark upon, armed with nothing but his unwavering devotion and the courage to speak his heart when you’re awake, ready to hear his words.

He hadn’t intended on staying the night, but your gentle slumber on his lap had rooted him in place. He couldn’t bear to disrupt your peaceful rest, and truth be told, he relished the sensation of your weight against him. He couldn’t recall when your head had found its way to his thighs, but the warmth of your presence was a comfort he couldn’t deny. However, the unwelcome arousal pressing against his jeans was a stark reminder of his body’s betraying response to your innocent proximity. Your soft murmurs and endearing sighs had stirred something primal within him, leaving him unable to conceal the undeniable evidence of his desire.

“Oh, goodness! I’m so sorry!” You exclaim, scrambling to sit upright, cheeks tinged with a delicate blush. He can't help but chuckle at your flustered reaction, finding your genuine concern endearing.

“It’s okay. I just woke up,” he assures, though it’s not entirely true. He’s been awake for a few moments, captivated by the peaceful sight of you sleeping. Is it a bit creepy? Perhaps. But at that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

You end up apologizing profusely for inadvertently resting on his injured leg, but he reassures you, insisting it didn’t hurt much. Suddenly, you offer to whip up some pancakes, and the idea sounds heavenly to him. He realizes how hungry he is, so the prospect of food is more than welcome.

He realizes he should head back home soon. Yesterday, he left without a word to his brother, and he certainly didn’t mention staying the night elsewhere. Jungkook might be in a panic by now, given the flurry of missed calls on his phone. Oops.

The pancakes you’ve whipped up are simply divine, and for a fleeting moment, he entertains the idea of staying here with you indefinitely. But reality pulls him back to the ranch, his responsibilities tugging at his heartstrings. Deep down, he yearns for you to join him there, to make the place feel complete once more. Yet, he knows he can’t impose such a request on you. Your decision to return must stem from your own desires. As the time draws near for his departure, he lingers a bit longer, subtly conveying how much he’ll miss you if you choose not to come back.

“I hope to see you again, maybe back home?” His gaze lingers on you, a silent plea echoing in his eyes. In that suspended moment, he senses a subtle transformation within you, a shift in the air that ignites a blush on your cheeks. And in that shared vulnerability, he feels his own heart quicken its pace, a silent testament to the magnetic pull you exert on him with each passing moment.

As you remain silent, he gathers his courage, emboldened by the delicate flush on your cheeks. Closing the gap between you, he leans in, his breath mingling with yours as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. A playful grin tugs at his lips, betraying the nervous flutter in his chest; he can feel the warmth rising to his cheeks, but he couldn’t resist the urge to express his longing in that fleeting touch.

“See you at home,” he whispers, the words carrying a weight of anticipation as he descends the stairs. His heart thunders in his chest, a symphony of excitement and nerves that threaten to overwhelm him. Despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins, a wide grin splits his face, a telltale sign of the emotions bubbling within him. In that moment, he feels like a fool — a foolish, lovesick fool.

You’ve returned, and it’s like a missing piece of his world has finally clicked back into place. Since his visit to the city, everything between you seems to hum with a new energy, a subtle shift that he can’t ignore. The air crackles with anticipation, and he can’t help but notice the lingering glances, the charged moments that pass between you. He senses the attraction growing, weaving its way between you like a delicate thread. Perhaps it’s time to take the next step, to ask you out on a proper date. But first, there’s the matter of moving your belongings from the city back to the ranch, a task he embraces eagerly, knowing it’s a chance to be by your side once more.

He chuckles at the sight of neatly packed boxes, already lined up and ready to go. He had braced himself for a lengthy packing session, but you’ve surprised him with your efficiency. With everything neatly organized, the task ahead seems much simpler. Now, all that’s left is to lift and load the boxes onto the truck and trailer, and you’ll be ready to roll.

Despite the weight of the boxes and the growing ache in his leg, he soldiers on without complaint. He refuses to let you see the strain he’s under, determined to make this transition as smooth as possible for you. Together, you lift and carry furniture, ensuring that nothing is left behind. Finally, you slide the key into the landlord’s mailbox, marking the end of an era and the beginning of a new chapter.

As you navigate the road back home, he catches your gaze drifting to his leg, a subtle twitch betraying the discomfort he’s trying to conceal. Despite his efforts to mask the pain, he can tell you’ve seen through his facade.

“Does your leg hurt?” Your concern is palpable in the gentle tone of your voice. He hesitates, debating whether to offer a reassuring lie or admit to the discomfort gnawing at him. Ultimately, honesty wins out. “Yeah, a bit,” he confesses, unable to shield you from the truth.

Your hand ventures across the center console, landing on his thigh with a gentle, reassuring pressure that sends a jolt through him. As your fingers begin to work their magic, tracing soothing circles over his tense muscles, he feels his defenses weakening. Like an inferno ignited, desire surges within him, rendering him powerless to resist. A soft moan slips past his lips, betraying the overwhelming effect of your touch, and he knows he’s in trouble, especially while navigating the road ahead.

His mind is a whirlwind of forbidden desires, each touch of your hand stoking the flames of his longing. With every inch your hand inches closer, his body responds eagerly, aching for your touch. Yet, amidst the overwhelming urge, a voice of reason echoes in his mind, reminding him of the danger of indulging in such desires while driving. Despite the throbbing need coursing through him, he fights to suppress his carnal urges, knowing that some pleasures are too risky to pursue in the heat of the moment.

“Please stop,” his voice, a blend of desire and restraint, breaks the tension-filled silence, pleading for respite from the intoxicating allure of your touch. As your hand halts its tantalizing caress on his thigh, a palpable tension hangs in the air, his body yearning for the forbidden pleasure yet tempered by the awareness of the dangers lurking on the road ahead.

“I might lose focus on the road if you keep that up,” he confesses, his tone laced with a blend of restraint and longing, revealing the precarious balance between desire and responsibility. With each passing moment, the tantalizing temptation grows stronger, stirring a primal urge within him. For a fleeting instant, he entertains the reckless notion of pulling over, and just fucking you, like he really wants to do.

Jimin is rendered speechless as you glide through the doors, clad in the dress he picked out for you. The sight of you steals his breath away, igniting a fire within him that he struggles to contain. Your radiant smile lights up the room, and as your eyes meet his, it’s as if the world fades away, leaving only the two of you enveloped in an electric moment.

You take in the surroundings of the house, every detail seemingly more enchanting with Jimin by your side. As he gracefully pulls you into a slow dance, the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you in a timeless embrace. The warmth of his hand in yours and the genuine smile on your face envelop him in a sense of serenity, and for a moment, he’s lost in the beauty of the moment, captivated by the sight of you.

You sway together in the gentle rhythm of the music, but beneath the surface, a tempest of emotions rages within Jimin. With every step, he feels the magnetic pull towards you intensify, igniting a wildfire of desire that threatens to consume him whole. The urge to whisk you away upstairs, to pour out his heart, to share every secret and desire, is almost overpowering. Yet, in the midst of this intoxicating whirlwind, fear gnaws at him. This unbridled attraction, so fierce and undeniable, terrifies him in its intensity, for it’s unlike anything he's ever experienced before, and it’s already reshaping the very fabric of his emotions.

As his brother, Jungkook, sweeps in to ask you for a dance, Jimin’s eyes roll with a mix of amusement and mild annoyance. Reluctantly, he steps aside, letting you be whisked away into the arms of his sibling, though a flicker of jealousy ignites in his chest. As you twirl away with Jungkook, Jimin can’t help but feel a pang of insecurity, wondering if he’s made a mistake by relinquishing your presence, even if only for a dance.

Meanwhile, Jimin gracefully makes his way to the piano, a glint of determination in his eyes. He settles onto the bench, his fingers poised over the keys with a mixture of nerves and excitement. With a soft, thoughtful expression, he adjusts the volume of the music, letting the melody fill the room with a gentle ambiance. As he begins to play, his heart pours into the music, each note resonating with a depth of emotion that only he can truly understand. With a voice rich with sincerity, he sings a love song, his eyes flickering over to where you stand, hoping that you’ll appreciate the gesture.

In the midst of the music, Jimin wrestles with his own conflicting emotions. He knows he should muster the courage to express his feelings directly to you, to tell you that he’s head over heels in love. Yet, fear grips him, the fear of rejection, of vulnerability. Despite the undeniable connection he feels between you, he hesitates, unsure of how you’ll respond.

Instead, he lets the melody speak for him, allowing the heartfelt lyrics to convey the depth of his affection. With each tender note, he silently hopes that you’ll understand the message hidden within the music, the silent plea for your reciprocation.

Your expression betrays a mixture of surprise and curiosity as Jimin finishes his serenade. Without a word, he rises from the piano bench, his hand outstretched towards you, a silent invitation in his gaze. “Please, come with me,” he implores softly, his voice laced with an urgency that belies the calm exterior he tries to maintain. With a gentle yet firm grasp, he leads you towards the door, a sense of purpose driving his movements.

As he leads you outside, Jimin can feel the weight of anticipation hanging heavy in the air. This could be the moment, he thinks, the moment he finally lays his heart bare before you. Or perhaps he should start with something simpler, like asking you out on a date. But with every step that brings you closer to the secluded spot he has in mind, his mind races with a whirlwind of emotions, leaving him uncertain of where to begin.

Now, with the night sky stretching out above you and the soft glow of moonlight casting shadows across your face, he finds himself unable to resist the pull of desire. With a sudden surge of courage, he pins you against the wall, his gaze locked on yours with an intensity that leaves no room for doubt.

His mind races like a speeding train, thoughts colliding and scattering in all directions, leaving him grasping for a coherent sentence. “Brothers talk,” he blurts out, cursing himself inwardly the instant the words leave his lips. Jungkook’s words about you after that night echo in his mind, a bitter reminder of a conversation he never wanted to have— he didn’t like hearing his brother talk about you like that. He wishes desperately to erase those words from his memory, to banish them to the darkest corners of his mind, but they linger like a stubborn stain, impossible to scrub away.

“I know you slept with Jungkook,” he murmurs into your ear, feeling the slight tremor that runs through your body. The tension crackles between you, a silent dialogue of unspoken words and hidden desires. He prays silently that you don’t harbor any strange fascination with brothers, because if you do, you’re in for disappointment. That’s not his thing.

“And I don’t mind. I like you,” he confesses, his words tinged with a mixture of vulnerability and sincerity. Despite the discomfort of knowing about your past with his brother, he’s willing to look beyond it because his feelings for you outweigh any resentment. The image of you being reduced to a mere conquest by Jungkook leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, but he’s determined to move past it for the sake of what he feels for you.

“I like you too, Jimin,” you confess, and the weight of those words sends a surge of excitement through him. Finally, the confirmation he’s been yearning for, the green light to express what’s been building inside him for weeks. As he leans in to kiss you, anticipation electrifying the air, the door beside you swings open, and out steps his brother, wearing that infuriating grin. Damn it, Jungkook always manages to ruin the moment, the ultimate cock blocker.

You’ve been putting in long hours at the ranch alongside Yoongi, and he’s observed how effortlessly you’ve adapted to the work. He doesn’t mind the time you spend with Yoongi; after all, cultivating friendships here is important, and he’s glad to see you forming bonds in your new environment.

As he makes his way over to where you’re taming the wild horses, Jimin feels a surge of confidence coursing through him. Today feels like the right moment to finally muster the courage and ask you out on that long-awaited date.

He approaches, anticipation bubbling within him, but Jimin’s heart sinks like a stone at the sight before him. His steps falter as he witnesses your lips meeting Yoongi’s in an unexpected embrace. Shock and hurt intertwine within him, shattering the fragile hope he held of something blossoming between you both. It’s a painful echo of the moment he caught you with his brother, a wound reopened. With a heavy heart, he silently retreats, the weight of disappointment pulling him away.

Caught in the whirlwind of emotions, Jimin did notice the shock etched on your features. But confusion battles with hurt within him, a tumultuous storm raging in his heart. Was it betrayal he saw in your eyes? Or was it simply his own shattered illusions playing tricks on him? The thought gnaws at him—had you been toying with his feelings all along? 

The memory of you with his brother burns like a brand, leaving him grappling with a cocktail of emotions, unable to discern truth from illusion. 

You fucked his brother, maybe you want to fuck Yoongi too?

Though he hears your hurried footsteps behind him, he refuses to turn back, his gaze fixed on the path ahead. Anger simmers within him, intertwined with a thread of sorrow, a tumult of emotions threatening to consume him. Frustration gnaws at him — frustration at you, frustration at himself for allowing himself to fall under your spell. For he realizes now, with painful clarity, that you hold the power to shatter his heart. And he can’t bear the thought of enduring such agony. It’s a bitter realization, but he knows he must protect himself. It’s better to walk away now, before the pain deepens any further.

“Jimin!” Your voice echoes urgently behind him, but he’s already near the door, his resolve hardening with each step. Maybe he can simply shut you out, ignore whatever explanation you might offer. He doesn’t want to entertain the possibility of hearing you out, even as you grasp his arm, pleading, “Jimin, it’s not what it seems—I need to explain!”

He doesn’t want to hear it. There’s a strange ringing in his ears, drowning out your words. It’s as if his mind is adrift in a sea of chaos, overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. Anger simmers beneath the surface, a volatile brew threatening to boil over. With a clenched jaw, he turns to face you. “You kissed Yoongi.” The words cut through the deafening silence like a knife, sharp and accusatory.

“No, I didn’t! He kissed me, and I didn’t want that. It meant nothing, okay?” Your words pierce through the heavy silence, but he’s not sure if he wants to believe them. He’s built a fortress around his heart, shielding it from any more pain. Watching you with his brother was hard enough, and now this? It’s not just the kiss itself that bothers him; it’s the unsettling feeling that you might be interested in anyone but him.

Since that kiss with Yoongi, he’s been nursing a hurt that gnaws at him relentlessly. Though he’s avoided speaking to you, he’s watched from a distance. Your once vibrant spirit now wears a cloak of sadness, but in Yoongi’s presence, you light up. It’s a comfort to see you finding solace, yet a pang of envy grips him. Watching you two together twists something deep inside him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

Amidst the ache in his heart, he’s found himself seeking solace in familiar connections, even replying to texts from his former physiotherapist, Deiji.

Despite the gnawing guilt, he finds himself unable to bridge the growing chasm between you. The pain of witnessing your closeness with Yoongi ignites a jealousy that eclipses all rational thought. It’s not just about liking or loving you anymore; it’s about the exhausting cycle of feeling perpetually overlooked. He’s tired of being picked last.

Perhaps that’s why he extended the invitation to Deiji, fully aware that you and Yoongi would be there. In his mind, it’s a feeble attempt to feign indifference, a facade of moving on. He’s well aware of the pettiness of his actions, yet he’s powerless against the torrent of bitterness coursing through his veins.

He catches the glimmer of sadness in your eyes as they meet his across the bar, and a pang of unease twists in his stomach, a blend of hurt and confusion. He’s at a loss to comprehend why your gaze holds such sorrow when you’re evidently entwined with Yoongi. The sight of him enveloping you, a shield against the world, ignites a storm of resentment in Jimin’s gut.

Despite being officially with Deiji, a decision he’s uncertain about and made more out of a sense of emptiness than genuine interest, Jimin finds himself questioning his own actions. He doesn’t understand why he acquiesced when she asked to make things official; perhaps it was the notion that having someone, anyone, was better than facing the void alone. But the truth is, he doesn’t harbor strong feelings for Deiji. Aware of the wrongness of the situation, Jimin feels a gnawing guilt deep within him, a sense of moral turmoil that he can’t shake off. 

And with every stolen glance in your direction, a reminder of his divided attention, he's torn between appeasing Deiji and grappling with the realization of what he truly desires.

Each day, you faithfully show up for work, your presence a constant in the familiar routine of taming the wild horses alongside Yoongi. Yet, with every shared moment you spend with him, Jimin can’t help but feel a surge of spite and jealousy coursing through him. Despite his best efforts to suppress it, the sight of you engrossed in your tasks, your laughter echoing in the stables, stirs up a tempest of conflicting emotions within him. It’s true, you appear happy, your smiles lighting up the barn, but beneath the surface, Jimin senses a lingering sadness, a hidden ache that eludes his understanding.

Even amidst the swirling chaos of his emotions, Jimin finds himself unable to muster the courage to speak to you. The turmoil within him is relentless, leaving him uncertain if he even wants to engage in conversation with you anymore. His feelings are a tangled web of confusion, rendering him utterly lost within himself. It’s as if he’s been thrown into a storm of his own making, unable to find solid ground amidst the tempest of his conflicted heart.

Even his own brother, in a rare moment of clarity, has acknowledged the messiness of the situation and urged him to confront it. Yet, Jimin finds himself grappling with the futility of such a conversation. What words could possibly bridge the chasm between you when you’re with Yoongi and he’s with Deiji? It’s a tangled web of relationships, each strand pulling them further apart with every passing moment.

Recently, Jimin has found himself consumed by jealousy, a venomous emotion that twists his thoughts and clouds his every interaction. He’s engulfed by an unrelenting anger — directed at you, at himself, at the cruel hand fate has dealt. Walking about with a perpetual scowl, he broods in silence, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of longing and resentment. Forced to collaborate with you by Jungkook, he remains mute, the weight of unspoken words suffocating him. Jimin, once eager to engage, now fears the irreparable chasm that has formed between you, the inevitable drift driving a wedge deeper with each passing day.

For reasons unbeknownst to him, your sister insists on throwing a party to mark the cast coming off. This entails a dinner, an event Jimin dreads. The thought of facing you, knowing Yoongi will also be present, fills him with apprehension. It’s been weeks, perhaps even months, since he’s exchanged a word with either of you, and the prospect of reconnecting amidst the festivity feels daunting.

He’s been avoiding you for what feels like forever, yet here he is, standing in your house with his girlfriend, desperately trying to hide the turmoil churning inside him. It’s not a physical demise, he knows he’s being overly dramatic, but the emotional anguish feels suffocating, overwhelming every inch of his being.

He stands there, silently seething as he watches Yoongi envelope you in his arms, whispering about how much he’s missed you. Anger courses through him like a torrent, mixing with a bitter taste of something unpalatable, leaving him with a nauseating sensation, as if he could vomit at any moment.

He averts his gaze, sensing the sudden fury emanating from you, though the reason eludes him. Desperately, he attempts to divert his attention to Deiji, but it’s futile; he can’t shake the feeling of longing for you, despite the turmoil raging within him. Every glance towards you is a reminder of the pain of seeing you with Yoongi, of his own inadequacy to confront or resolve the situation. He feels trapped in a cycle of longing and self-loathing, unable to break free from the grip of his own childishness.

You glide into the charity gala, a vision of elegance and grace that steals his breath away. He shouldn’t be captivated by you, shouldn’t be allowing his gaze to linger when he should be focusing on his date. Yet, Deiji’s waning interest in him is palpable, a silent testament to the growing chasm between them. He knows their relationship is crumbling, and he can’t blame her for growing weary of his constant pining for someone else. The truth is, he was never truly invested in Deiji; she was merely a placeholder, a feeble attempt to fill the void left by your unattainability. Now, as he watches you from across the room, radiant and out of reach, he realizes the magnitude of his mistake.

Despite dancing with his girlfriend, his eyes are drawn irresistibly to you, tracing every step you take as you glide across the dance floor with Hoseok, then Yoongi. Each moment is like a dagger to his heart, yet he can’t tear his gaze away. It’s masochistic, really, subjecting himself to the exquisite agony of watching you in Yoongi’s embrace, but he’s transfixed, unable to look away.

Without warning, your expression morphs into one of raw anger, fury emanating from every pore as you stride purposefully towards him. Your voice, sharp and cutting, pierces through the music as you demand, “Why the hell are you staring at me like that?”

Startled and taken aback, his heart skips a beat as your sudden outburst catches him off guard. Beneath the surprise, a tinge of sadness tugs at his heartstrings. He realizes he shouldn’t be so transfixed on you, yet despite his best efforts, he finds himself unable to tear his gaze away.

“Shouldn’t your eyes be on your girlfriend, huh? Why the fuck do you keep gazing at me? Look at your damn girlfriend!” Your words cut through him like a knife, and the accusation stings. He feels a knot of sadness twist in his stomach, grappling with confusion as to why you've suddenly turned hostile.

“And while you’re at it, why the fuck can’t you talk to me like a normal human being?” Your voice crescendos, cutting through the air like a sharp blade. Jimin feels a pang of shame, wanting to shrink away from your justified anger. You’re hitting too close to home—he knows he should have approached you like a mature adult.

“You’re a damn coward, aren’t you? You shouldn’t be casting your eyes my way when you have a girlfriend right there!” You jab a finger in Deiji’s direction, her displeasure evident, but Jimin can’t muster any concern for her feelings. His heart thuds erratically, a tumult of emotions swirling inside him, each one adding to the chaos. He knows you’re right, and it cuts him deeper than he’d like to admit—yeah, he’s a coward.

“You fucking jerk. If you had the decency to communicate, to use your damn voice instead of making baseless assumptions, we wouldn’t be in this ridiculous situation!” You unleash your frustration at him, each word a sharp jab, and he flinches involuntarily. Deep down, he knows you’re right, but the weight of the misunderstanding presses heavily on his shoulders. He just doesn’t understand the situation. Yoongi steps in beside you, attempting to diffuse the tension, but Jimin feels his heart plummet to the floor nonetheless.

“I fucking hate you! You’re stupid. I hate you. I fucking hate you. I love you. I fucking hate you. I hate you so fucking much!” You unleash a torrent of emotions, your words cutting through the air like knives, and his eyes widen in shock. His heart races erratically, his confusion mirroring yours. Why would you confess your love for him while Yoongi stands right beside you? It’s madness, and he feels like he’s drowning in a sea of uncertainty and conflicting emotions.

“You fucking bastard. Stop looking at me like that,” you spit out, catching him off guard once more. Despite the tension, he can’t help but burst into laughter. It’s wrong, he knows, but there’s something absurdly amusing about the situation. As you glare at him, he can’t shake the thought that you look oddly cute when you’re angry.

“Stop laughing. This isn’t funny!” You stamp on the ground, your frustration palpable. Jimin feels a surge of conflicting emotions, his laughter fading as he clings to the weight of your confession. What does this mean? He longs to ask you why you’re unloading on him, but you refuse to let him get a word in edgewise.

“I don’t want to hear it! You know what? I’m done!” With a sharp spin, you pivot away, leaving Jimin in a whirlwind of confusion. Desperate to understand your sudden eruption, he reaches out, his hand grasping for an explanation amidst the chaos.

“You can stick your dick where the sun doesn’t shine!” With fire in your eyes, you unleash the words directly into his face before storming out, leaving Jimin to face the fallout of your wrath. As the tension thickens in the air, all eyes turn to him, conveying their disapproval like daggers. Even Jimin finds himself grappling with the weight of his actions, acutely aware of the discord he’s sown.

Yoongi strides up to him, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “You know you’re a real dick right?”

Jimin’s jaw drops, the shock of Yoongi’s words reverberating through him like a sudden bolt of lightning. Never before has he witnessed this side of Yoongi, and the revelation leaves him utterly stunned, his mind reeling with disbelief.

“Why don’t you scuttle off to your precious girlfriend?” Jimin’s words slice through the air like venom, his anger bubbling to the surface with an intensity that threatens to consume him entirely.

Yoongi scoffs incredulously, “Girlfriend?” His steps carry him closer to Jimin, his voice dripping with a mix of disbelief and frustration. “You really think she’s my girlfriend, huh? Is that what’s been fueling your jerkish behavior?”

Jimin’s lips part, ready to offer a retort, but before he can utter a word, Yoongi closes the distance between them until their breaths mingle in the charged air. “She’s not my girlfriend,” he declares, his voice low and tinged with frustration, “I’m gay, you fucking idiot.”

Jimin’s eyes widen in disbelief as Yoongi’s words hang heavy in the air. Then, as Yoongi exits, a whirlwind of emotions sweeps through Jimin’s being, leaving him teetering between confusion and a surge of unexpected elation.

But hold on, that means that all this while he thought you were together with Yoongi, you were in fact mad at him? 

Fuck.

Deiji ended things with him, and he can’t blame her. He realizes now that he wasn’t truly invested in her or the relationship. In hindsight, it’s clear that it was the right decision for both of them.

He’s made an absolute mess of things, and now he’s left with the daunting task of picking up the shattered pieces and piecing them back together again.

He realizes the first step towards redemption is owning up to his missteps and extending genuine apologies for the havoc his actions have caused.

Your expression betrays confusion when he offers to aid in the search for Mikrokosmos, yet deep down, he yearns for the chance to finally unravel the tangled threads of misunderstanding between you. He carries the weight of knowing he should have initiated this conversation long before, but he’s here now, determined to mend what’s broken and bridge the chasm that’s formed between you.

He’s overwhelmed with gratitude as you lend him your ear, and when you extend an apology for your own actions—a gesture he feels unworthy of—he’s humbled. He recognizes he was the one in the wrong, and while he does offer his apologies, he feels they fall short of expressing the depth of his remorse. He struggles to find the words to convey just how profoundly sorry he is. In your presence, he’s painfully aware of his own shortcomings, yet he’s also grateful for the stark contrast of your unwavering kindness, a stark reminder of the person he aspires to be.

As you tenderly trace the lines of his scars with reverence, he feels something inside him fracture, but it’s not pain—it’s the barriers he’s built around his heart, crumbling in the face of your genuine affection. Never before has anyone shown such care and admiration for him in this intimate way. In that moment, his heart swells with a love so profound it threatens to overflow. In your presence, he finds a sense of completeness he’s never known before. Truly, you are the embodiment of sweetness and kindness, and he’s endlessly grateful to have you in his life.

He’s acutely aware that you deserve far better than him. In your unwavering sweetness and kindness, you shine as a beacon of light in his tumultuous world. Despite the countless times he’s put you through turmoil, you continue to stand by his side, unwavering in your commitment. A part of him struggles to comprehend why someone as remarkable as you would choose to be with someone as flawed as him. He can’t shake the feeling that he doesn’t deserve a woman of your caliber.

As the blissful days turn into months and the connection between you deepens, it feels as though you’ve been together for a lifetime. It’s this profound sense of certainty that drives him to purchase a ring for you, a symbol of his unwavering devotion. From the depths of his childhood dreams, he’s always known, without a shadow of doubt, that you were the one meant for him.

Fucking hell.

Just when everything seems to be falling into place, Deiji unexpectedly resurfaces, bearing news that shatters the delicate balance of his newfound happiness—she’s pregnant. The weight of her revelation hits him like a ton of bricks, threatening to unravel the life he’s worked so hard to build. While she insists the child is his, he’s consumed by doubt, unable to find any concrete evidence to support her claim. Yet, in the midst of his turmoil, his gaze is drawn to you, and the anguish etched on your face speaks volumes. Despite the chaos swirling around him, he can’t ignore the palpable pain this situation is causing you.

He longs for the prospect of fatherhood, but the thought of having children with Deiji is a nightmare he can’t bear to entertain. If he were to embark on the journey of parenthood, he envisions it with you by his side. Yet, he’s keenly aware of your own hesitations or perhaps lack of desire for children, and he deeply respects your stance on the matter.

Damn, this just became a whole lot more complicated. But amidst the chaos, his resolve remains unwavering—he’s determined to be present for his child, and for you, no matter what. With every update Deiji shares, whether it’s pictures or ultrasounds of the baby, he makes a conscious effort to include you, recognizing the importance of keeping you informed and involved every step of the way.

However, he can’t help but notice the growing distance between you, and it’s a pain that cuts him to the core. The dilemma gnaws at him relentlessly—he’s torn between wanting to cherish both you and his impending child, yet he’s at a loss as to how to navigate the chasm that’s formed between you.

“I really think it’s best to break up,” you repeat, and he’s gripped by a suffocating sense of disbelief, as if trapped in a nightmare he desperately wishes to escape. How can you say this? The love he feels for you surges through him like a relentless tide, and the mere thought of breaking up is unbearable. Doesn’t your heart ache at the idea of leaving? Doesn’t love still reside within you?

“But I can’t bear the thought of losing you,” he pleads with a raw desperation, his heart laid bare before you. Every fiber of his being is consumed by love for you. Can’t you see? Can’t you feel the weight of his devotion?

“I know, I don’t want to lose you either. But as much as it pains me, I can’t go on like this. I need to break up,” your voice cracks, and his heart shatters into a million fragments. Both of you are unwilling to part ways, yet he's come to recognize the toll his situation with his child has taken on you, perhaps far more than he initially comprehended. Ultimately, he realizes he can't compel you to remain by his side, even as the agony of separation tears him apart.

“If that’s truly what you want,” he says, his voice strained with emotion as he struggles to form the words, “then I... I understand.” Each syllable feels like a weight upon his chest, threatening to suffocate him as he resigns himself to the heartbreaking reality of your decision.

“It is,” you confirm with a heavy finality, and in that moment, his heart shatters into a million irreparable fragments, scattered across the floor like the remnants of a shattered dream as you walk away.

Ever since you broke up, a sickness gnaws at him, but he desperately clings to the impending arrival of his child as a beacon of hope. Yet, intertwined with the anticipation is a bitter realization—he’s lost you, and it leaves a repugnant taste lingering in his mouth. He never wanted to be forced into a choice, yet it seems he inadvertently prioritized his impending fatherhood over you, a decision that fills him with self-loathing. Deep down, all he truly yearns for is to be by your side once more.

Every time his gaze falls upon you, your face is etched with profound sadness, and he’s torn between offering you the solace of space or the comfort of his presence. Though you still exchange words sporadically, the connection you once shared feels like a distant memory, a mere echo of what once was.

The ache of missing you consumes him, a relentless longing that claws at his heart. He yearns for nothing more than to be reunited with you, to reclaim the bond you once shared. But the weight of the situation crushes him under its unbearable pressure. Should he forsake his child for the chance to have you back? The mere thought is agonizing, a cruel dilemma tearing him apart at the seams. He’s trapped in a labyrinth of pain, unable to discern a way out of the turmoil engulfing him.

Fuck.

Reflecting on the myriad mistakes he’s made sends a searing pain coursing through his heart, each misstep a haunting reminder of the turmoil he’s inflicted upon you. The weight of his transgressions feels crushing, almost unbearable, yet amidst the wreckage of his past, one truth remains steadfast—you loved him, despite it all. Perhaps you still do, but the uncertainty gnaws at him like a relentless beast. Yet, in the depths of his remorse, his love for you burns bright and unwavering. He’s determined to find a way to convey his unwavering desire to win back your love, to fight for the chance to make things right and rebuild what was once lost.

That’s precisely why tears cascade down onto the paper as he pours his heart out in the letter destined for you.

Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I would very much appreciate it if you reblogged the chapter, if you liked it ✨ A small review or a comment would also mean a lot to me, and even a like. But please, don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜 Remember the Q&A that is coming in the Epilogue— if you want to send in some questions for the characters, you can do it now (and later too) → Ask the characters (or me), anything ❣️

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[michaelsfavgirl]

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✎ᝰ! My name is Kate, I'm nineteen, a Taurus and from West Asia.

✎ᝰ! I have been a fan of Michael Jackson since I was a child but I became a part of the fandom around 2019. My man is my no. 1 on Spotify every single year (yup, yup).

✎ᝰ! I actually had a book on wattpad about mike a few years ago and it was HURRENDEOUS, but I promise that my writing abilities have gotten better :)

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✎ᝰ! My hobbies: watching films, feeding into my delusions (writing fics about michael), playing the guitar, skiing, doing my makeup.

✎ᝰ! My top 5 musicians: Michael Jackson (obvi), Madonna, Queen, Nina Simone, Amy Winehouse.

✎ᝰ! My favorite films: Portrait of a lady on fire, Amelie, Mary & Max, The shape of water, The grand Budapest hotel and Knives out.

✎ᝰ! More facts: i LOVE cinema, it is an art form that should be cherished forever, professional procrastinator, reality shifter, fav color is green, big pop culture nerd, a little acoustic (autistic), addicted to watching edits on tiktok.

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✎ᝰ! I won't write: male/trans/non-binary!reader, ocs (I only write x reader), hard kinks, knife/gun kink, scat kink, drug consumption, pedophilia, rape, breeding kink, pregnant!reader, pregnancy kink, incest/stepcest, mommy kink, sub!michael, pegging, dom!reader, abuse, degradation kink.

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Last updated: August 15th, 2024

Thank you so much for reading! Have a wonderful day/night. ✶𓏲ּ꩜ .ᐟ

© michaelsfavgirl 2024

[skzdust]

Arrange These to Spell Love

Chapter Two: Violet, Purple

Chapter two!! I've been way more into this fic than I thought, so you can expect even more coming soon :)

Also, wrote about half of this in a sleep deprived, election-anxious haze. So I'm sorry if it's not great. Hope you enjoy though lol.

Inspired by an ask from @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna !

Summary: You run Beehive Flowers and Enchantments in your small beach town... and the attractive and infuriating Choi San runs the competition, Seaside Floral. When he calls you asking for help learning about Victorian flower language, you agree to help him. Little did you know what was to follow... involving your town's harvest festival, a wayward enchantment, and your best friend with benefits, Kang Yeosang.

Pairing: Kang Yeosang/Choi San/afab reader love triangle

This chapter includes: more "I hate him I swear", more flower lessons, a birthday party, and Mingi, Yunho, and Wooyoung!

Word count: 1.6k

Taglist (Comment on a post/send an ask if you'd like to be added): @weirdowithaphone, @caught-in-the-afterglow, @palindrome969, @skzstan12345, @katsukis1wife,

@hyunjinsjeans, @somethingkindazainy, @silverstarburst

Network:@mirohs-aurora-society

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Part 1

Masterlist

-----

VIOLET, PURPLE.

You occupy my thoughts.

The sun is bright— its golden rays / Gild mountain-top and flower; / O’er rock, and wave, and vale it plays, / From morn till evening hour. / But, ah! No beauty in its beams / My weary heart can see,/ While rocks, and vales, and glancing streams / Keep me away from thee!

“Do you think he’d like this one?” Yeosang thrust a glittery body mist at you. You took it gingerly and sniffed it.

“I don’t think Mingi would wear something that smelled like jasmine.”

“I don’t either.” He snatched it back, setting it back on the shelf. “I think he’s more of a sandalwood kind of guy.”

You nodded. “Very masculine. That’s Mingi.”

“Yes.” Yeosang picked up another bottle. “Maybe this one?”

“Maybe.” You hummed.

“You’re thinking about something.” Yeosang smelled it, shook his head, and put it back. “I can tell. You’re quiet.”

“Oh, I don’t know, just… thinking about the harvest festival.”

“That’s not till late October, right? Why are you thinking about it now?”

“Just… remembering what San said. About having a stand together. Sign-ups are due soon.”

“You want to do a stand with him? Wow, flower lessons must be going well. I thought you’d rather slip him some kind of poison than voluntarily spend more time with him.”

“Yeah, well, that was a couple weeks ago.” You mumbled. “He’s more bearable than I thought.”

“You also like teaching people things.” He smiled at you over his shoulder. “Maybe you just like a willing student.”

“Okay, who doesn’t like having someone to teach their valued knowledge to?” You flicked him.

“Hey! What is this, high school?” Yeosang rubbed his shoulder. “I get it. Your little rivalry with him was a little aggressive, anyway. I’m glad you don’t hate him anymore.”

“He’s actually kind of nice.” You said. “He’s, like, getting into the flower meanings and stuff. Keeps asking me about the poems. It’s kind of endearing.”

“Ooooo, you have a crush on him!” Yeosang singsonged.

Your cheeks got hot. “I do not.”

“I better be in the wedding.” He sniffed another body spray. “Oh, wait, I think this is the one.”

You engaged Yeosang in the perfume conversation, glad to turn the topic away from your love life— especially your love life in relation to San.

Discussing dating with Yeosang always seemed normal, the way you’d expect two best friends to discuss their romantic prospects. You thought that it felt a little tense every time though— your romantic past and sexually active present weighing over the conversation like the executioner’s axe over the condemned man. Yeosang hadn’t met someone he wanted to date in the past few years, and you’d only had a couple of relationships since Yeosang. It felt like only a matter of time before you’d have to deal with your ambiguous, not-ambiguous relationship.

It wasn’t that it was ambiguous, exactly, it was best friendship with benefits. You both knew the boundaries. It was the true emotions both of you were hiding that were the unknown.

You didn’t even really know what you felt about Yeosang, so it was safer not even to touch the topic.

But you could identify how you felt about San, and it was quickly evolving from annoyance to attraction, a fact you weren’t exactly thrilled about.

He was the competition. You couldn’t date the competition. Besides, you told yourself, he’d still thrown away your flowers. You couldn’t forget that. He didn’t like you.

And, more importantly, you didn’t like him.

—

“Alright, we’ve had three lessons. What are you thinking for this weekend?” You crossed your arms.

“Forget-me-not and short sunflowers for true love and adoration, and marjoram for blushing. It’s a very colorful theme to the wedding, so I wanted to include lots of colors in the centerpieces.” San nodded. “And I was thinking each table would have a different centerpiece. Like, one table has forget-me-not, one has sunflowers, one has marjoram. And then they’re all filled in with moss, which is for maternal love, but the bride is very close with both her mother and her mother-in-law, so I think it will work, and it’ll look nice. And then the bride’s bouquet will be all of it.”

“I’m impressed.” You blinked. “You’ve memorized that pretty fast.”

“Yes, well, I want to keep learning.” San smiled. “I like working with you on— on this. I’m having fun.”

It might just have been your imagination, but he seemed to shift a bit, almost as if he were nervous.

“Okay, I can keep teaching you, then.” You smiled. “Is there anything you want to learn to say with flowers?”

“Maybe… I was actually thinking, first, maybe you could help me with this wedding. I want to use sunflowers, but I’ve never stocked those in large quantities, and I know you sell a lot of them. I’d pay you, of course, and credit you. Just… a little collaboration.” He smiled.

You were taken aback. San wanted to work with you?

“I, um, I think that would work, yeah.” You stumbled over your words. “I’d love to work with you.”

You could barely believe you were thinking this, but San wasn’t as unbearable as you’d thought. He was actually kind of sweet… and thoughtful… and he seemed to enjoy working with you… and though you wanted to deny it, you had to admit the man was gorgeous.

“Great!” He beamed, and your chest fluttered.

You continued with your flower lesson for the day— the meanings of colors.

“Flowers with multiple colors often mean different things based on the color.” You pulled a few roses from your bag. “White roses mean something different from pink roses, and you’ve gotta be careful with yellow.”

San nodded. “Colors. Got it.”

You set the roses down on the table. “I can tell you about the different colors, but you have to remember, it’s dependent on the flower as well. It’s sort of… a combination of the two.” You sighed. “It’s hard to explain. I’m… my book does a much better job.”

“I want to see this famous book at some point.” He smiled. “It sounds amazing.”

“No.” You said quickly.

“Oh… okay.”

It was quiet for a moment.

“It’s just… it’s my family’s spell book as well.”

“Spell book? So you’re herbalists?”

“Yes. Herbalists who do all kinds of enchantments.” You waved your hand in the air. “My family’s been doing magic for centuries, probably longer.”

“Really?” San’s eyes were wide. “My parents were always wary of that stuff.”

You couldn’t help it, you snorted. “Denying magic is like denying the sky is blue. Now that we don’t have to hide anymore, no witch trials or anything, we’re pretty open about it.”

“I know. People around here trust you, trust your spells. I hear all about it.”

You smiled, pride glowing in your chest. “I try to help people. I’m glad it’s doing something.”

“You do a good job.”

Had San always looked this adorable when smiling? You couldn’t really say.

—

Mingi’s birthday was a relatively calm event. It was Mingi, his boyfriend Yunho, Yeosang, and you. You’d all met in college, and remained friends ever since.

“Where’s Wooyoung?” You looked around. “Where are you hiding him?”

“Hiding him?” Yunho laughed. “Why would we hide him? We want him here as much as you do.”

“So then… where is he?”

“Dunno.” Yunho put his glass on the table. “I’m not in charge of him. He said he might bring a friend, though.”

You hummed. “Wooyoung is certainly… friendly.”

The front doorbell rang, and Mingi leapt up to answer it.

“Wooyoung! And this is…”

“San.” Wooyoung filled in.

Goosebumps ran over you. San? No way it was the same San. There had to be another one, or something.

But you looked over your shoulder, and you felt yourself flush. It was, in fact, the same San. He was in a dark shirt, unbuttoned halfway down, and light wash jeans. A few necklaces glittered on his collarbones.

He looked more than fine. He looked hot.

He grinned at you. “Y/n! Woo didn’t say you’d be here.”

“Well, here I am.” You swallowed before remembering to force your face into a smile.

Yeosang cut in. “San! It’s so nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Have you?” San looked amused, his gaze darting between you and Yeosang.

You huffed. “I just… told Yeosang about the flower lessons. That’s all. This is Yeosang, he’s my best friend.” You left out the part where you occasionally fucked.

“Hi, Yeosang.” San said with a small laugh.

“Well, don’t just stand in the doorway.” Mingi ushered them inside. “Sit down.”

Wooyoung took the last available chair, leaving San to sit on the couch beside you. His leg bumped yours as he sat, and he briefly smiled at you as he pulled it back.

The conversation was mudane, at least until after dinner.

“Any news on the dating front, y/n?” Yunho asked, pulling his legs up into his chair.

“Not really.” You laughed. “Still single. The shop is my boyfriend.”

Was it your imagination, or did it seem like San perked up?

“Oh, Beehive Flowers and Enchantments, sweep me off my feet!” Wooyoung put the back of his hand to his forehead, swooning back.

“Exactly!” You grinned.

“I won’t stop at my mission to get you laid, y/n. We will find you someone.” Mingi looked at you sincerely.

“I’m sure you will.” You smiled.

“How about you, San? You got a partner?” Mingi turned to him.

San shifted. “No, I… I don’t.”

“Sounds like you wish you did.” He poked.

“Maybe.” San looked down, flushing. “I do kinda want someone… yeah.”

Your heart jumped.

“We should get you on some dating apps or something, then.” Yeosang leaned over. “I hear there’s a few that are pretty good.”

“Yeah, that could be good.” San glanced at you with an inscrutable expression before looking to Yeosang. “For sure.”

You didn’t know what he wanted. But you wanted him.

[romanarose]

Tag list return!!!

I initially got rid of my tag list because it was really exhausting, tagging people, and then never getting any interaction

So I’ve decided on something a little different and I have several ways for people to keep up with my stories

Firstly, we have my update page @romana-updates

Then we have my community here on tumblr. V small I just got it going and dont really exepect interaction, but I figured it was a good way to help people keep updated. You can also share your stuff there too if you'd like!!!!

I'll link it here, but if the link doesnt work after a while you can just ask me and ill send an invite

Theres also my AO3, romana_rose. Not as interactive bc tumblr has asks and reblogs but if you're just looking for fics and commenting this is a good place!

As for the taglist!

Here's the way it'll go.

Comment: Moon Knight, Triple Frontier, Star Wars, The Last of Us, all pedro Pascal, alll Oscar Isaac or All

I may add more fandoms as time goes. Who knows! But if you wanna read Frankie, but dont want fishben or dont want santi.... idk what to tell you, just ignore the tag.

If you want Tommy but not Joel, just ignore the tag.

Only want x reader? I cant make promises. Gonna be gay shit here.

Ignoring a tag is simple. If you dont wanna do that, consider another way to keep up!

As always, individual series will have their own tags

Now, The problem last time was having long tag lists that took a long time and then people never interacted again.

So, if I dont hear from you for months, Il take you off the tag list.

This is not meant to be a threat to interact! As much as reblogs and comments mean the world, liking does too, so if you just hit that like button you're good.

I also understand life happens. I undertstand i dont write for certain ships all the time or some fics may not be your speed. That's okay! If you get taken off, just comment to be added again! No hard feelings.I will also be periodically redoing the tag lists just so if your interests change, you arent perpetually tagged lol

A note: none of these fics will be dark CC. as always, my dark side blog will hold that. however, dark themes are common in my writing fromt he begining. Leather and Lace dealt with an OC who was sex trafficked. SSSB, Sam has a whole litany of problems. Read the warnings as heavy theme are common in the romanaverse.

I love you all, and thank you for the ongoing support in these trying times!

A brief list of characters I tend to or want to write for.

Triple Frontier

Santiago Garcia

Ben Miller

Will Miller

Frankie Morale

TLOU

Tommy Miller

Joel Miller (Less now due to fandom issues)

Narcos

Javier Pena

Steve Murphy

Moon Knight

Steven Grant

Jake Lockley

Marc Spector

Star Wars

Din Djarin

Poe Dameron

Han Solo

(Kylo Ren Maybe??)

And hopefully some Bikeriders (gay)

Thank you all!

[jungwonderz]

𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄 - 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈 𝐃𝐎 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄, 𝐇𝐀

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂 ; in which you go to your boyfriends house to suprise him for your second year anniversary, just to see him kissing your best friend on the couch. heartbroken and not thinking right, your already thinking of a plan to get back at him. what better choice than fake dating? good thing someone else is going through the same situation, but what happens if you just end up falling in love with your fake boyfriend?

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : park sunghoon x reader (fem)

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : smau, fake dating turn real, crack, fluff, angst(?)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : profanity, drugs, me being unfunny, excessive use of emojis, kys/kms jokes, sexual jokes but no sexual content, making out, ex!minhee, exbff!winter, some things go kind of fast, lemme know if there’s any i missed!

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒 : indefinite hiatus

𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃𝐔𝐋𝐄 : whenever i can

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : open! (send a ask)

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 : 01/31/23

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 : lowercase intended. all characters are 19-24. this is my first time doing a smau so pls bare with me!! pls lemme know if I missed any warnings or genre or anything🫶🏾 send a ask or comment if u wanna be in the taglist :) all photos of reader are for visual only, reader has no face claim. also PLEASE ignore timestamps on messages and twt💔

chapters that have not yet been posted might have a name change.

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐒

y/n shooters , sunghoon’s minions , privates

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

1. are u serious lol

2. chaewon fixes almost everything

— extra chapter #1

3. i wanna make him regret it

4. uhm!!

5. oh?

6. what if

7. a dumb plan

8. …

9. …

10 …

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : @ilvsoup @abdiitcryy @redm4ri @viagumi @ddenoudepression @blossomnct @hanniluvi @captivq @mangobee @faeryhee @loves0ft @ashxxgyu @arininlove @chaewon-slays @yenqa

[tonberry-yoda]

HI HELLO I WANNA MAKE A REQUEST!

i’m not dead (for the most part) and i still wanna support my mutualste despite not being active anymore so without further ado…you don’t think you could supply me with la squadra headcanons could you? preferably formi, mel and ris x a cat lover s/o? you choose one if you wanna, but i appreciate you taking the time to read this request! tysmmm💕💕 (i will totally be returning to ask you for final fantasy hcs but for right now take this! also don’t feel pressured to do it either i love your writing so much ksksjsksk)

Formaggio, Melone, and Risotto with an s/o who loves cats!

notes - HELLO MY DEAR! I am more than happy to do a request for you!!! I'm really glad that you're still here to support it means the world! You are so kind <3333 Like omg this request had me smiling so hard because you are just so nice like AHHHHH <33333 But fr tho I am super happy to do this for such a kind person! Thanks for taking the time to send me a request! I hope you have an amazing day/night and stay super hydrated!

Formaggio

he's a cuddly guy deep down and we all know it

I think he would love that you love cats

but if it get out of control, he will straight up tell you LMFAOOOO

honestly, whenever he goes to your place, your cats give him an excuse to rest lol

they are very cuddly with him and he loves it

like he loves cuddles and having a cat with all that makes him so so happy <3

LIKE OMFG IF THE TWO OF YOU ARE CUDDLING AND A KITTY JUST SQUEEZES RIGHT IN WOULD BE SO CUTE AHHHHH

Melone

he loves cats

they are his chaos creatures

but he will definitely complain if you are giving a cat more attention than him

it pisses him off LMFAOOOOOO

but other than that, he loves cats

and loves that you love cats

he'll spoil your cat lol

expect a lot of trips to the petstore and stuff to get your cat silly things

Risotto

he is a huge cat lover

LIKE HUGE ON CATS

he loves them so much omg

like would do anything for a little kitty

so much so that he will steal your cats from you and give your cats more attention than he gives you

he loves cuddling you and your cats as well

his favorite thing to do I think is brush your cats

like makin them all pretty and stuff

he really makes sure that you're feeding them well too

he loves cats just as much as you <33333

~~~~~

jjba masterlist (2) (3) | pinned post

2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated <3

taglist: @kawaistrawberry21

~~~~~

[thelov3lybookworm]

Bestie I’m all aboard the struggle bus

How do I make a taglist??

Send help 😔

(You and Mils are amazing and ur both really good at the whole taglist thing so I was hoping I could get some advice 😭)

okay so im kinda excited to answer this ngl lol 😅

ill put it under the cut in case others dont wanna see

okay so, at first i used to post and use tumblr from my tablet (glad i got my laptop now), so im hoping using tumblr on a phone and tab are kinda similar in case you are using a phone or something

so first, you add the @ sign, then type out the person's username that asked to be tagged. on a laptop, tumblr gives you suggestions based on everything you type, like this-

but on tab, i couldnt see the options unless i typed out the full name and then put a space, then went back to remove a letter. only then i would get suggestions (lol i hope that made sense)

usually, its easier to have the names listed somewhere. like for me, i used to keep a track of the usernames in my notes app, but now i have all the names listed out in my tumblr drafts. when i have to post a fic, i just go over to the drafts, copy the names and paste them in my post.

when you do that, you usualle get the underline thing under the name like-

sometimes though (and it used to happen to me when i used my tab), the username does not get underlined, that is it does not get tagged. i dont know much about this, but what i would do is go back and cut one letter from the end of every username so it would get tagged

(also if you arent able to tag someone, dont stress because it most likely is because of their tumblr settings and they have opted to not get tagged by anyone or something like that. all you can do is reply to their comment and letting them know that you arent able to tag them 🤷🏻‍♀️)

for no thats all i can think of, bu if you have anyyyyy questions, please feel free to ask me my love 🥹❣️

[wave2love]

✧ my lovely love 𖥔˙̣

07. the talk

IN WHICH, choi y/n after finally landing a job after many many interviews finds out his new boss is the boy that broke his heart many years ago in highschool. can the two become friends again and maybe more or will it once again end in tragedy with y/n crying on the floor of his room for days left to pick up the pieces of his once again broken heart.

⌗ warningz — angst probably idk :: wc — 620

⌗ lowercase intended

˚₊꒷ʚ﹕previous — masterlist — next

"hey y/n, can we talk?" its jay.

oh. jay. i really don't wanna talk with him. but i guess i have to man up and live my life. i turn towards him, "yes mr. park? what would you like to talk about?" he looks a bit surprised for whatever reason. "could you follow me into my office so we can speak privately?" i nod and follow him into his office, people are staring. jay locks the door as we enter the office. he looks a bit scared. his face reminds me of the one he had that day.

i don't know what to do here. why did he want to talk. we stare at eachother for a moment, "y/n.." he hesitates for a second and just stares at me, "do you wanna take a seat?" he pulls out a chair for me. "..okay" i sit down. all i can do is stare. he's still so pretty. i should hate him. he broke my heart. why does my heart ache seeing him? "y/n" he starts, "i'm sorry." "for what?" i want him to say it. admit what you did to my face. tell me you know what you did to me. he looks taken aback. "for everything. i know i hurt you all those years ago. i know i was stupid and i know how much i hurt you." i can hear his voice tremble a bit. my eyes start to gloss over and i think i'm about to cry. i really don't want to cry in front of him. "oh." is all i can get out without sobbing and suddenly i feel a tear drop slide down my face. before i know it i'm crying. jay apologizes a few more times i can hear the struggle in his voice. it's like every memory of us floods back to me.

jay takes a deep breath in and speaks again, "i know we haven't spoken since that day but i promise i didn't want any of that to happen." "why did you do it then? we were good together, we could've made it work." he opens his mouth as to speak but he immediately stops. he opens his mouth to speak again and this time as he talks he makes the slightest bit of sense to me, "y/n, i really wanted to please believe me. i just couldn't stay with you because my parents moved me away because of you. there hasn't been a single day since then i haven't thought about you, please forgive me." he sounds like he's about to cry. "jay.." i don't know what to say to him. there wasn't one day since then where i haven't thought about him.

"there hasn't been a day since where i haven't thought about you. i don't know if i have it in me right now to forgive you." my voice cracks and i can see tears coming from his eyes. he makes it so hard. i look down at my hands, i can't look at him. "i want to forgive you jay i really do, and now we have to work with each other and i get that it would be easier if i could just get over it but what you did and what we were made an impact on me." "i.. understand. i'm sorry again. do you think we could take it one step at a time? become friends again? please y/n. i'll do anything." i can hear the pain in his voice. "okay. let's start over, become friends again. just.. don't bring this up again, okay?" he looks at me with glossy eyes and an appreciative smile on his face, "of course. anything for you."

˚₊꒷ʚ﹕previous — masterlist — next

⌗ karma’s corner ᵎᵎ i wanted this to be really sad but it didn't feel sad to me so idk. but like wtv! this one kinda sucked icl. hope u guys enjoyed tho lol

taglist ᵎᵎ comment or send an ask to be added — @junjiie @kpopstanmeg @stvrboy-k @jarosutff