#ill be honest... it really fluffs my ego

[yooniesim]

why do i see people talking bad about you? i don’t understand

baby, it's simblr. it's full of people scared shitless to say anything to your face while your name stays in their mouth for years on end. I got people i never even met or interacted with obsessed with me, cos I just got that much impact apparently. every so often I hear about this shit and ignore em like the insignificant flies they are, but they keep on trying for some reason. I even get people regularly in my inbox saying they came to check me out cos they saw some bitter weirdos drop my name, and they're staying cos they like my stuff lol. so I just consider it free advertisement 😂

don't pay it any mind, love. I sure don't. Ya see someone talking shit sneakily? keep in mind it says more about them than it does me. most of them are just mad I called them out on their shit eating ways (bigotry, scamming, etc) in the past, to the point where the hurt still lingers in em to this very day. that's why they never give a reason or actual proof for why they don't like me, it's always vague shit talk and lies. I don't get involved in all that anymore, just kinda focus on actual sims content now, cos I realized 70% of this community care more about who's friends with who than actual issues. So now I just keep doing my thing, protecting my peace, and being satisfied that it burns their lil asses up there's not a thing they can do to stop me.

[an0nymousmessenger]

Next Time We Meet

Synopsis: To go North or South? tags. fluff, angst, gn!reader Word Count: 1.9k Ao3 Link

“Yo.”

“Gah!”

Geto laughs, his voice deep and rich as he watches Gojo choke on air, “How rude, and right after seeing me.”

Gojo shoots Geto a look that says 'Really? This is how you greet me after so long?' and slumps back in the airport seat, spreading out without any regard for personal space. He frowns, looking up at the ceiling with a sigh. "No way. Could things get any worse?"

You snort from the other side of where Gojo sits, legs crossed, supporting your face with your hand. "C'mon, is seeing your old friends again really that disappointing?"

Gojo flinched at your sudden voice, his laidback body language suddenly tense.

It was as if he couldn’t believe you were here. Whole and well.

You notice, and tilt your head while asking in a teasing voice, “Hm~? What’s wrong?”

However, he recovered quickly, answering only a beat late in his whiny voice that it was hard to wonder if it ever happened at all, “You don’t get it!”

“Does it matter anyway?” Geto asks.

Gojo complains, "I told one of my students that when you die, you die alone! Now I seem like a liar!"

You laugh at how despite waking up in another place with his old friends, the only thing on his mind at the moment was something he told his students in passing, and that his only concern was how it made him look bad.

At the sound of your laughter, Gojo finally turns his head to look at you. You were so busy laughing at Gojo’s suffering that you missed the way his blue pupils seemed to shake as he soaked in the sound of your laugh, and the subtle trembling of his lips so faint it was barely noticeable.

“You speak as if you aren’t one,” You manage between fits of laughter.

He crosses his arms and pouts. "I've told you before! I'm an honest man! Isn't that right, Suguru?" 

Geto, however, only shakes his head while laughing softly.

You smile, thinking to yourself that you really have missed this. It was nice. It was warm.

“And there's the matter of his father," Gojo continues, "but I've already asked Shoko to handle that."

"Poor Shoko, you make her go through too much," Your voice is full of sympathy for your mutual friend.

Gojo dismisses your concerns with a wave. "It's Shoko; she's strong."

Still, you wonder if she's okay.

"So, how was the King of Curses?" Geto inquires, hands in the pockets of his school uniform.

Gojo waves his hand, “Man, he was crazy strong! Plus, he didn’t even go all out.”

You saw, after all, you and everyone here was watching him.

“Stronger than you?” You ask, turning your head to look at him with your brows raised, wondering if fighting the king of curses was the solution to flattening his inflated ego.

Gojo became silent.

His face seems to suddenly fall, as if in deep contemplation.

You meant it as a joke, a jab at how in his youth, he only flaunted his power and never experienced loss. You didn't intend to upset him.

"Told you, it's because I'm the strongest."

You roll your eyes, feeling irritation rise as you retort, "Cheater."

He grins, adjusting his glasses while examining your battered state. His pristine school uniform remains untouched with not even a blade of grass. You on the other hand are covered in sweat and dirt.

"Am I?"

"The worst."

He feigns hurt, hand over his heart. "You wound me."

You vow never to spar with him again.

Before you can address your earlier remark, he answers in a soft, uncharacteristic tone: "If you and Suguru were there, I think I could've won."

You had forgotten, you think to yourself. Forgotten that at the end of the day, he was only one man. And that at one point he had only been a boy, a boy who had the world thrust upon him.

And so, with this in mind, you give him one of your best smiles, “We’re always cheering you on, Satoru.”

Gojo seemed to want to say something to you then, but then he seemingly decided against it. Instead, he points out, “I’m just glad I didn’t die of old age or illness, but rather because of someone strong.”

You don’t miss the way he started avoiding eye contact with you, nor the red creeping up his neck.

It was then that Nanami cuts in, “No one thinks like that. Nowadays that’s creepy.”

“Huh!?”

Gojo turns around to roughly ruffle Nanami’s hair, a scene that was a bit too nostalgic for your liking, but all the same, you couldn’t help but want the moment to last longer. Hearing Gojo whine as Nanami scolded him, but Geto smiling in the background and Haibara’s cheerful voice was something you didn’t think you would witness again. 

Just you guys, back in the prime of your youth laughing underneath the summer sun.

Just a little longer, you silently plead, just a little longer.

But time is short.

You listen silently as Nanami and Gojo’s conversation warps up, and it is only then that you decide to finally speak up.

“So, have you decided?”

Gojo turns to look at you, “What do you mean?”

You smile, “Your decision. To go north or to go south.”

He stares at you for a long time before finally breaking out into a grin, “What? Did you get sick of my presence already? I only just got here!”

Rolling your eyes as you fight back your amusement, you remind him, “You don’t have much time, you know? You in a place where you can still–”

"Yes, yes, I know," he interrupts with a pout.

You sometimes can't believe his audacity, wondering how you had managed it through Jujustu Tech. Here he was, acting upset when you're trying to save his life.

Bringing a hand up to your head, you sigh, feeling a type of headache that you only get when he is around coming up.

“Can’t I stay a little longer?” He asks, this time his voice betrays the feeling he had been hiding behind that carefully crafted mask of his. It sounded of longing, sprouted from the fear of losing everything he had again.

It was Geto who answered him this time, "It's your choice, Satoru," his voice gentle. "But I think we all knew the decision you'd make the moment you woke up here. In fact, you've already made up your mind, haven't you?"

Gojo fell silent because he knew Geto was right. Geto always understood him well.

It was because Gojo still had unfinished business.

He still needed to live.

You stood up and walked over to Gojo, offering him a hand. You knew he would stubbornly sit there until the last minute, and you'd had enough all-nighters to know that leaving things to the last second never worked out well.

He took your hand, and you pulled him to his feet.

“It’s not your time yet,” you say in a steady voice.

“At least tell me you are sad to see me go,” he grins, his opaque glasses blocking the top of his face, but you knew from the way he looked at you that the frown didn’t reach his eyes.

"We'll see each other again; waiting has never been an issue for me."

He rolled his eyes and frowned. "Is it really so hard to say you're going to miss me?"

You sighed. "Gojo—"

"Satoru."

"Satoru," you began again, giving him your famously tired look. But all he did was grin back. "I'll be looking forward to meeting you again, okay?"

He smiles a victorious kind of smile, as if him getting you to say you will miss him was a greater achievement than winning against the king of curses.

It was a kind of smile that told you that he’d steal this moment away for himself.

Selfish prick.

It was then that an announcement came on from seemly nowhere: We are now making boarding announcement for Flight 0010 to the final destination ‘—.’ Passengers are kindly requested to proceed to gate 06 for immediate boarding.

“I guess that’s your flight.” 

Your voice trembles.

A mishap in the wall that you built to suppress your emotions because without it you don’t think you could stand to watch him leave.

If that wall were to come crumbling down you think you would have clinged onto him, begging him to stay a little longer.

Gojo continues to look at you before seemly to make a final decision, “Hey, There’s something I–”

If this was the last time he'll see you again, to get to talk to you again then-

You shake your head, laughing silently to yourself as you start to push Gojo towards his gate.

“Hey- hey wait!”

You come to a sudden stop as Gojo stubbornly rooted himself to the tiled floor.

“Hurry. You will be late-”

Gojo grabs ahold of your hand, his black glasses falling to the tip of his nose, revealing his starking eyes. He stared at you, stared at you as he tried to tell you all the things he’d always been too much of a coward to say.

He wanted to tell you before it was too late like last time, something he has yet to forgive himself for.

“There’s something I haven’t told you yet. I need to tell you before I go-”

Stupid. Stupid white-haired man.

Your lips tremble as you look at his desperate face, his mask falling apart as well. But instead of clinging onto him like you so desperately want to, you smile.

"Tell me next time then."

Gojo stops stumbling over his words.

"I–"

Last call for Flight 0010–

"Go," you urge him.

Yet he still stands there stubbornly, refusing to leave.

Stupid Satoru.

What a greedy man, you think to yourself. The corners of your mouth curve upward as you stand on tiptoes and press a quick, soft kiss on his forehead.

"Go," you say again. "Tell me next time all the things you’ve yet to say to me, okay? Go and win for us...for me."

He brings a hand to the spot where you kissed him, a certain look crossing his face before finally saying the words you want to hear, "Okay, I will."

"Swear it."

"I swear on it."

And you believe him.

Because who are you to say otherwise in front of his grinning face? Who are you to think otherwise when he smiled so brightly? His eyes were bright and confident, softly grazed by his white hair as if he'd bring you the world if you asked.

Then he seemed to cast everyone one last glance before turning his feet to start running the other way towards his gate.

He doesn’t think he could stand to leave if he were to stop.

"Don't miss us too much!" Haibara calls out after him.

"Try not to die again," Nanami mutters.

"We'll still be here," Geto states.

“Don’t come back too soon! Okay!?” You shout to which he lifts an arm and waves, his neck a dark shade of red.

He laughs, “Just continue to cheer me on!”

You stand there, watching as the gate closes with Gojo behind it, listening to the loud hum of the air conditioning in the airport.

You'll wait, just like you've been doing. You'll wait as long as it takes for him.

a/n : I promise I'll write pure fluff next time ( maybe )

[babybluebex]

everyone loves an outlaw [arvin russell x reader smut]

➽ pairing: mob!arvin russell x fem!reader(y/n) ➽ word count: 2.2k ➽ summary: arvin works for your dad and you have to keep your relationship a secret. ➽ warnings: NSFW/MDNI. smut, explicit language, age gap (reader is legal tho!), fingering (f!receiving), praise kink, breeding kink ➽ a/n: mob!arvin goes brrrr hehe​

In small towns, there weren’t many ways out. A job was the usual way-- graduate high school and get a job out of town and leave Coal Creek in your dust. Sometimes, though, the job search was fruitless and many people, young and old, were left to rot in West Virginia. That seemed to be the case for Arvin Russell. We went to high school together, him being a senior when I was a freshman, and I remember my father going on about him. “Gonna get him when he graduates,” Daddy said. “Not lettin’ somethin’ like him get outta here.” 

Legally speaking, my dad’s business was in bail bonds. We had family in Chicago that we worked for, and the line of work that my father did was less on the end of selling the bonds and more towards extracting the payments. Coal Creek had a few names for what my family did-- “mob”, “mafia” (which were technically two different things, but the people in Coal Creek had no hope of ever distinguishing the two)-- but we preferred to call it family. 

And, God almighty, Arvin Russell was in need of family. When he graduated, he had a bright future ahead of him, but that flame was put out when his little sister died. Lenora was a year ahead of me, quiet and reserved and very bookish, and it took the entire town by surprise when we heard that she had died. Rumors flew around as to why; she was sick and didn’t want to burden her family with her illness was a popular one. When Lenora died, Arvin lost his way. Wayward young men looking for protection and acceptance was my dad’s type when it came to employment. 

He had me do it. I usually was the one to go out and hire young men. Papa realized fairly quickly that men would do basically anything I asked of them, including signing themselves into our little family, so, one day in my senior year of high school, I went to the garage where Arvin Russell worked. He split his time between road construction and the garage and, when I met him properly, he had grease all over his hands. “Hi, Arv,” I said sweetly. 

His pink mouth had quirked into a smile. “Hey, doll,” he said. “You’re Y/N? From high school, ain’t ya? Ya daddy’s got that bail bond thing goin’?” 

“That’s me,” I said. “I, uh…” I had a script that I had to stick to. “I… I was just wonderin’ if ya wanted to get dinner sometime. Maybe go to a drive-in? That car you’ve got is pretty neat.” 

“You like my car?” Arvin asked, and I giggled out a yes. “Ya sure it’s the car ya like, doll?” 

“Not as much as the driver,” I said, biting my lip. ‘C’mon, Arv, this is takin’ a lot of courage to ask ya.” 

Arvin sat up from the rolling creeper he was at and wiped his hands on the thighs of his pants. “You really wanna go out with me?” he asked. His voice was dripping with absolute sarcasm, but his honey-colored eyes held something more hopeful. I knew, right then, that we got him. 

“Well, yeah,” I mumbled sheepishly, picking at a loose thread on my blouse. “I’ve kinda had my eye on you since… Forever, I guess. I-I just think you’re outta sight, Arvin.” 

Arvin’s eyes glanced over me, still wearing my clothes from school, and he gave me a smile, much more sincere than ever before. “Sure thing, doll,” he said softly. “What d’ya say to Friday night?” 

Friday night came, and it was quickly obvious that the movie would be forgotten. Instead of that, Arvin and I ended up in the backseat of his car, his hand up my shirt, making marks on my neck that my dad would be mad at. I never planned on fucking Arvin and, while I had no qualms about doing so, I stopped when his long fingers began to dance at my panties. “Arvie,” I panted, grabbing his wrist. “I ain’t ever done nothin’ like this before. I-I just--”

Arvin kissed me softly, his hand holding my cheek tenderly. “No sweat, doll,” he told me. “We’ll go as fast or slow as you want. I’m here for you.” 

I was supposed to break it off with him after that, but I just couldn’t. There was a bit of truth to what I said when I asked him out initially, that I had my eye on him for a while. I had always thought that Arvin was pretty cute, and I enjoyed the time I had with him. We had to sneak around, though, because my dad would have cast both of us out if he knew. While I was supposed to fluff up their egos and convince them to join the business, I wasn’t supposed to fool around with the guys my dad hired. Arvin was different, though, in a way that I couldn’t put my finger on. He was kinder, a gentler soul than most, hidden behind a gruff exterior. 

School was grueling, but the sight of the old Chevy waiting in the parking lot for me brought me comfort. Arvin stood near the door of the school, smoking a cigarette as he waited for me, and a smile passed his face when he saw me. 

“Arvin, you know damn well that you aren’t supposed to be here right now,” I hissed quickly. “My daddy’ll kill you.” 

“I reckon he’d have to catch me first,” Arvin chuckled. His smile promised illicit moments in the coming minutes, and he added, “It looks like it’s gonna rain and I was thinkin’ of offering you a ride. Wouldn’t want ya to walk and get all wet and melt.” 

“Why would I melt?” I asked. “I ain’t no witch.” 

“Nah, but you’re all made of sugar,” Arvin told me. “C’mon, babydoll. I know you want to. I might even buy you a milkshake if you’re good to me.” 

“Good to you?” I laughed. “Right, ‘cause that’s my goal in life, Arv, is to please you. Fuck off.” 

“Dolly’s got an attitude today,” Arvin drawled around his cigarette. His dark eyes were full of energy and promised nothing but fun, and the fact that he hadn’t given up his advances yet let me know that he saw right through my fake resistant measures. After all, he knew that I would give in no matter what, just as I always did. “Jesus, woman, you’re makin’ me work for it today, huh? This is fun for you, yeah?” 

“Oh, so much fun,” I assured him. “I love makin’ ya dance, Arvie.” 

“Shit, do I gotta get down on one knee?” Arvin laughed. “I was hoping that you’d be all graduated first but--” 

I tugged Arvin close by his worn leather belt and I silenced him with a kiss to his cheek. My pink lipstick left a mark on his skin, and I said, “We can talk ‘bout that later. Thanks for the ride, loverboy.” 

“Never a problem with you, doll,” Arvin told me. 

As usual, we ended up parked at the river, with Arvin’s hand up my skirt. My hips bucked up into his hand as his skilled fingers found home inside me, and a soft whimper fell from my lips. “Vinny,” I whispered quickly; that name was reserved for moments like this. “O-Oh, fuck!” 

“Such a good girl,” Arvin whispered in my ear, gently nipping at my earlobe. “S’fucking tight, doll. You really ain’t been lettin’ other guys fuck ya, huh?” 

“I only want you, Vinny,” I said. “Nobody makes me feel the way you do.” 

“Good girl,” Arvin told me, and my body went warm with the praise. Arvin had always been so good to me and I truly didn’t want anybody else. But I had always imagined getting out of Coal Creek, leaving my family behind and having a good and honest life. I wanted to get married; maybe to Arvin, but maybe to someone with no ties to my family. I was lovestruck, I’ll admit that much. I was so pathetically in love with Arvin that I had doodled his name during class, even going as far to put his last name with mine. Mrs. Y/N Russell was enticing. If Arvin were ever to propose, I would be compelled to say yes. 

“Vinny,” I said, and I grabbed his strong arms. “I-I’m gettin’ close, baby.” 

“You hold that shit in,” Arvin growled into my neck. “Want ya to come on my cock, babydoll.” His fingers fell from me quickly, and he made light work of undoing his belt and jeans. My thighs were quivering around his hips, and I sunk down onto his hard cock with a satisfied keenness in the back of my throat. Arvin’s moan in my ear was heavenly, and he mumbled, “Pussy’s so good, doll. Fuck.” 

“Fuck!” I squealed as he snapped his hips up into me. “Vinny, I-I--” 

Arvin’s mouth met mine in a greedy kiss, and I whimpered my way through a blissful orgasm. Arvin swallowed every single noise I made, his hands raking my blouse up to feel the skin of my back, and I felt myself shaking so hard in his grasp. “Good girl,” Arvin shushed me, kissing all over my face. “So good for me, babydoll. Gonna help me now?” 

Even though my legs felt like liquid and my hips ached, I rolled my hips down onto him. Arvin quickly got rid of my shirt fully and tugged my bra up my chest to expose my tits, my nipples hard at the feeling of him. His mouth latched into my tit quickly, and I pushed his curls off of his forehead as I watched him suck on my tit. Arvin looked up at me through his dark eyelashes and gave my nipple a quick bite with his front teeth, and I yipped. “Vinny!” I cried. 

“Aw, dolly,” Arvin cooed. “I only do it ‘cause I like the pretty little noises you make.” 

I chuckled breathlessly, and, with his lips back on my nipple, Arvin winked at me. “Arv,” I sighed. “Your cock is literally inside me right now. You can knock it off with the flirting.” 

“Can’t help it,” Arvin said, biting his bottom lip as he cupped his hands around my breasts. “Just an instinct.” 

“It’s a good thing I like it,” I whispered, and I leaned down to kiss him. His breath was hot against my mouth, and I clutched his hair as he continued to fuck into me, and I finally pleaded, “Vinny, please come. Want you to come inside me, Arvin, please.” 

Arvin took a fistful of my hair and tugged my head back to expose my neck, and he kissed all over the soft column of my throat as his thrusts became quick and sloppy. “Fuck,” he whispered and sucked a mark onto my neck, but I was too far gone to chastise him for it. Arvin huffed out a heavy breath then, and I felt him spilling himself inside of me, painting my walls with his hot cum. I gasped aloud at the feeling of it, and Arvin set a kiss to my lips to silence me. “Ya like that?” he whispered. “Like being fucked like this? My good girl, my best girl.” 

“Christ, Vin,” I whispered with a giggle. “I love you, you fuckin’ square.” 

“Hey, I’m not a square,” Arvin laughed. His arms were circled around me, holding me tightly, and his cock was still inside me as he laid his head on my chest and tried to catch his breath. “But I love you too, babydoll.” There was a quiet that blanketed the car then, the only sounds being our rasping breaths and the faint radio that we had left on before climbing into the backseat. Arvin was right; it had begun to rain. 

“Think it’ll take?” I asked softly. 

“What?” Arvin asked. His brown eyes were still blown out as he looked at me, and a smile split his face. “Oh, dolly. Is that why you wanted me to come inside ya?” 

I shrugged sheepishly, and I hid myself in his neck. Arvin laughed and readjusted us so that he was laying on his back, making sure to stay inside of me all the while. 

“You wanna have my babies?” Arvin chuckled. “Your daddy’ll kill us.” 

“I jus’ wanna be yours, Arvie,” I told him. “Want everyone to know I’m yours.” 

Arvin pulled my face from his neck and captured my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “No more hidin’?” he asked hopefully. 

I shook my head, and Arvin smiled. “No more hiding,” I agreed. 

Arvin gave a content sigh, and he kissed my mouth once more. “My pretty girl,” he whispered. “My pretty wife, maybe?” I nodded, and he laughed. “Shit, that sounds pretty nice. Having a pretty little wife to come home to, gettin’ all big with my baby… Jesus, I love the thought of that. But you ain’t even graduated yet, doll. Are ya sure…?”

“There’re girls who dropped out ‘cause they got married,” I told him. “I think the fact that I’m engaged and pregnant, and still manage to graduate won’t be a problem.” 

Arvin kissed my forehead, and he whispered, “Just a few more minutes, baby. Wanna make sure, ya know. Then, I’ll get you that milkshake I promised.” 

[nctzendreamz]

off the table — lee taeyong

genre: angst w/ hints of fluff.

warnings: language, mentions of drug abuse, and mental illness.

featuring: nct members + chan and felix from stray kids.

authors note: taeyong was perfect for this in my head. also, thank you ariana grande.

is love completely off the table?

will I ever love the same way again? will I ever love somebody like the way I did you?

it had been almost a year. almost a year since he had heard your laugh. you know, the one only he was capable of getting out of you. it was gentle, yet so vibrant that it could color even the most plain and unpleasant rooms. he had seen you do it a million times, but his favorite work of art of yours was the one you did on his heart.

obviously, he couldn’t see what the inside of him looked like. but he could feel it. before he met you, he was certain everything was pitch black. to be specific, the darkest shade of the night sky one could possible fathom. so much pain resided in him. some he brought to himself, some he did nothing to earn. regardless, it was there, and as anybody with demons did, he found coping methods.

that’s how he met you, actually. holed up a strip club he had no business being in. one, because there was no one here he truly wanted. he would never admit it outloud, but the thought of love warmed him. not much, but it did. more than silly one night stands that have soul ties no one wanted to keep.

you were clearly out of place in the building filled with the scent of marijuana and flashing lights, although it did perfectly consume your complexion in the most beautiful way. he observed you for what felt like hours, just admiring you. he had no idea he would want to do this for the rest of his life.

it didn’t take much liquid courage for him to approach you. he could sense your fear when his slender fingers touched your exposed shoulder. for some reason though, the minute your eyes locked it was as if you were looking at someone you had known for a million lifetimes. or maybe that was just Taeyong’s point of view. maybe, everything was all an illusion. meeting you. falling in love with you. you falling in love with him.

“it’s been awhile.” a voice snaps Taeyong out of his deep thinking. the minute his concentration breaks does his surroundings suddenly blast into the center of his cortex. the volume increases. he is in the real world again. he isn’t high, yet.

“yeah.” is all he can spit out. all of the different coversations he could hear take place all of a sudden was making him extremely frustrated and unable to form coherent thoughts. or maybe he wanted it that way so he wouldn’t have to think about you.

you loved coming here. he hated coming here. but he loved you, and your favorite thing to say to him was, “when you love someone, you do things you hate. just like me sitting and watching you smoke for hours without stopping.”

he never realized how much you hated his distractions.

the here, was a restaurant that resembled a sports bar back where you are from. the food was less Korean and more greasy chicken tenders. and you really admired their honey mustard. it was kind of ridiculous how much you loved this place. it was always crowded. the smell was odd - a mixture of people who can’t seem to do anything but drink beer and yell, and foreigners who hated living in Korea. this was the only taste of home they got, so they took advantage of it.

did you feel that way too?

he doesn’t know. and he doesn’t want to think about it. some soccer game was on. people were cheering. he was just waiting on his to-go order.

“how have you been?” the familiar woman asks behind the counter. she was definitely in her mid-50’s. he assumed. she always would be here when Taeyong was dragged along, and she was always nice. who wouldn’t be with all the money you gave to this place.

“i’ve been fine.”

taeyong feels a little cheery conversating with another human. if it wasn’t his dealer, there wasn’t anything to say if he was being quite honest. his relationship with his family died out a long time ago. the only person that he could talk to was himself. the guys who were constantly down in the basement at his dealer were cool, but they never really got him. they thought he was weird, violent. only you cared enough to see how sweet he was. to paint him.

“good to hear. you tell your lover that i miss them!”

his heart, still colored from the mention of you, breaks. it had broken many times from your presence on this earth being acknowledged. everytime his chest would explode into his stomach.

he couldn’t say anything.

he simply walks out the place, not caring about manners. he just wants to go home. he doesn’t even like these fucking chicken tenders, but he’s going to go home and eat them. in your honor.

“excuse me.” a voice exclaims as he finally makes it outside.

once again, words don’t leave his mouth. the woman was probably lost. he truthfully didn’t care. he didn’t care about anything anymore.

“sorry,” she begins. her hair is almost a white color. it’s clearly dyed, but she might have been naturally a darker shade of blonde since the coloring seemed too perfect. “i just...i’ve been watching you - wait, that sounds incredible creepy—“

no one could compare to you, but she reminded him of you. you always did this when you were nervous, or had a severe lack of sleep. you would say things you considered to be silly. fumble with your words. and you would always ruin it more by acknowledging it.

but he was never irritated. he thought it was the cutest thing in the entire world. you were the cutest thing in the entire world.

even now, he’s okay. maybe because he was reminded of you, he can appreciate the art.

“you’re really cute.” she finally spits out.

he couldn’t respond, for the third time today.

why was this so hard? it has almost been a fucking year. a year without you. a year without touching you.

yet, no one could ever compare. not the blonde woman standing in front of him. not the sky. not the stupid bar. even his drugs seemed lackluster to the high you gave him whenever you told him you loved him.

he walks away. he needs something. something to make him unable to think for the rest of the night.

never thought you’d be so damn hard to replace. i swear I don’t mean to be this way, if I can’t have you? is love completely off the table?

“y/n? you there?” you feel vibrations from snapping on your face from the man sitting beside you. he snapped three times, to be exact.

“yeah! yes.” you quickly correct, adjusting your posture along with it.

“i know you appreciate the arts, but that painting is nothing to stare at.”

the painting chan was referring to, seemed plain to a simple eye. it simply, was a black square. but you saw worlds in it. you saw him.

“you know christopher,” you cooed, giving his slim cheek a quick sqeeze before continuing, “just because something seems boring to the naked eye, doesn’t mean it actually is. sometimes, a simple work of art such as that lame black square can hold a thousand meanings.”

he smile is radiant. honestly, the neon colored walls in the movie theater couldn’t compare to it no matter how hard it tried. lately, you had been trying to predict what he would say when you tried to be somewhat of substance around him. you were truthfully scared of boring him.

maybe you saw yourself in the black square as well.

“you really find it interesting, love?”

his accent - God his accent. it had an effect on you that truthfully wasn’t healthy, but even so you always felt guilty when your heart would papilate as it touched your eardrums. but why? you were single. you were moving on.

you can’t even look at him anymore, so you settle on the painting once more. now that you think about it, it was kind of scary that it was in a movie theater. maybe chan was on to something - what was its purpose? to simply cause you pain? to make you think about things and people you could no longer have? a person who is the worst possible thing for your growth, but the best food for your pitiful, lonely soul?

“never mind, you’re right.” you stand promptly, suddenly wanting to get as far away from the evil on the wall. it didn’t matter how chilly it was outside.

“woah.” chan chases after you. you’re too quick though. you’ve practically swam through the crowd to escape into fresh air. what is wrong with you?

it doesn’t take long for you to find yourself at his car. his pride and joy by the way, in which he never let anyone else ride in yet. he had been saving for so long to get it. you didn’t know the model, all you knew was that it made loud noises when he wanted it to. the car was originally white, but the two of you agreed that it was the worse possible color for a car, so he got a paint job and now it was as black as a dark hole.

the stars are beaming, and it’s odd. you used to love nights like this. you preferred the day time, but it was something about a light in the dark, such as the moon that pulled you in. it always destroyed you in the end though.

“what did I do?” his voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

“huh?” you wizzle in confusion, not understanding why he believed he had done anything but gave you a peaceful night not lost in your thoughts.

his eyes tell you everything you need to know before his mouth does. he isn’t questioning your ever changing emotions and happiness to hear satisfaction from your mouth - to boost his ego. he truly feels as if he’s ruined any chance he’s had with you simply from being himself. even so, as he waits for you to answer he’s taking his bomber jacket off for you to wear. he was sweet like that.

“chris, you are always perfect. why would you think anything different?” you say as you put the jacket on.

he’s holding back a smile, but you can tell it’s more so from your proper word choice, and not what you said.

“you trying to sound English?”

“no.” you giggle, pushing his shoulder lightly. “I’m just trying to communicate with you.”

“then tell the truth.” he prompts, taking a step closer to you.

“can I lean on the car?”

“yes.” he laughs in a low tone. “you can lean on the car.”

“okay.”

“okay.”

silence is filling the air, and it’s making you sick even though it shouldn’t be.

“y/n.” he finally speaks. you decide you have the balls to look at him even though it feels so wrong. the stars - they’re sparkling right into his eyes and you know you are the dumbest idiot on earth.

why can’t you just choose him?

the question is repeating over and over in your head, but no answer comes. well, no answer you want to hear comes. this should’ve been easy money. the perfect guy, with a good family and solid morals is madly in love with you. he’s still here, even when you barely give him anything to work with, and you’re thinking about others who were nothing close to that no matter how they made you feel.

“my confession ruined everything, didn’t it?”

it was about two months ago that chan confessed his love for you. you laughed a bit, as it made no sense. the two of you had been in the same circle for awhile, and you had been notified of his appreciation for you long ago, but he had seen you break. he watched you go from happy soul to broken and he still liked you? in what world?

you enjoyed his company. that’s why you began to hang out with him practically everyday - doing whatever you two wanted. most of the time you two just watched movies, or played silly board games. but sometimes you would go shopping, or he would play you his music he worked on. you could tell he lacked confidence on what he could become, but you knew he had the potential to be so great.

his confession was short and sweet. and the way he approached you, you could tell he was somewhat confident that you would feel the same. you did feel the same, but you also still had feelings for others. when you declined his request to take things to the next level, he didn’t get upset. or at the least he didn’t show it.

he promised the two of you would move at your pace. and that was all you needed to hear to know that maybe one day, when you got yourself together, the two of you could be something.

chan always protected you. you never felt endangered, or unsafe when you were with him. to you, he was sweet, to others he was still sweet, but he knew when to be stern.

“no. i promise.” is all you answer. “it’s cold.” here you go again trying to change the subject. this wasn’t like you.

he promptly unlocks the door to his car, opening it for you as well. it isn’t long before he’s on the drivers side turning on the car so you could feel some heat on your body.

“i won’t bring it up anymore.” he sighs.

“no chris. you bring it up everytime you feel it. i like you, okay? i do. i know I’ve never said it out loud before, but I do. i just...i don’t know what I’m doing right now. there are some things I have to get over you know?”

you can tell the amount of words you used - probably the most you had spoken to him in months shocked him, and made him feel extremely guilty. you know he didn’t want you to feel like he was trying to pressure you. all he wanted to have was something. something that made him feel as special as he knew you had made others feel in the past.

“y/n I’m a fucking idiot. God, don’t listen to me. you are perfect okay? we are working at your pace and we always will. i - fuck.” his face goes directly in his hands.

it’s cute - the way he cares about his every move around you so deeply. you remember what it felt like to feel like that. it was the most nerve wracking, yet butterfly giving thing to experience when around someone you admired so much.

“chris...” you whisper, removing his face from his palms. he had the softest hands ever. “hey, don’t beat yourself up okay? i know what you want and I know you have nothing but the purest intentions. if I didn’t feel that way I wouldn’t want to spend everyday with you okay? whatever you think this is, it is. i promise.”

“okay.” he sighs the biggest breath of relief you had heard in a long time. “okay. i know what we need.” he offers. your hand lingered on his, and he decided it would be best to hold yours as the opportunity presented itself. it’s nice - the warmness. yet, it feels incredibly wrong.

you truly didn’t mean to be this way. you would do anything to not be this way.

“let’s go cop something from felix. hm?”

what chan was reffering to was the good ole’ mean green, weed. you smoked a lot more in the past than you did now, but you were still no angel. especially tonight did getting high sound like the best decision you could have made.

“yes please.” you say without hesitation, leaning back in the seat. your left hand is still in chan’s right, and you don’t plan on letting go. felix’s house isn’t that far from here, so you know your pleasure will be coming sooner or later. chan starts the car and begins the journey. usually, the two of you drive with music on, but tonight the silence was what the both of you wanted.

secretly though, chan snuck his AirPod into his left ear. he loved music, but he could tell you weren’t in the mood. and he didn’t mind that. he would do anything for you. the lyrics resonated with his with his soul so much that he felt it ache, even though he felt he had no right.

i’ll wait for you

even if I always feel like I’ll be number two

to someone you can’t hold anymore

taeyong can’t even recall how long he had been pent up here, high as hell. intoxicated as fuck. the chicken tender meal he brought had been long gone, but not from his mouth. the junkies smelt food, and took food like the animals they claimed to be.

this all sucked so bad. he hated being here. but he couldn’t move.

it was so loud in here. the boys he knew - johnny, mark, and jaehyun were all present. they seemed to be the leaders of the basement and they also seemed to be functioning quite well considering how high they also were. taeyong couldn’t fathom or make out what their conversation were, but he assumed it was about girls. he caught, “they’re supposed to be here any minute now.” from jaehyun’s lip. he seemed to be the strongest ladies man. all taeyong knew, was that he wanted no parts of the drug induced orgy he knew was going to take place. he also knew if he didn’t leave, they didn’t care. they were going to give a show regardless.

“taeyong!” johnny yells, bringing him back to focus. johnny was always very intimidating. he wore a smile when he got what he wanted, but if he spoke to you and you didn’t listen, he quickly got upset. maybe he was different when he was sober, but that was never.

“what’s up.” taeyong answers dryly, still not looking at him.

“you know,” johnny sits down in the dirty floor right beside him. “you’ve never been fun, but you were more fun before than you are now.”

“i went through this phase.” mark interrupts, taking the seat on taeyong’s opposite side. “what is it? mommy issues? a girl? or a boy? if you get spicy like that.” he chuckles. he coughs right after.

“how about everything. except the last part.” taeyong whispers.

“oh...you have it rough. was your mom a druggie too?”

“no - well, I don’t know. i met her like once when I was younger. she told me ‘i did it for your good’ and left.”

“so you were in a foster home? or did you get adopted?”

“foster home. neglected, so now I’m like this.” he chuckles. he’s laughing, but in reality to admit these things out loud hurt, even though he was sure the other boys had similar or worse stories.

“and the girl?” mark asks. he had began to roll up another blunt in the midst of taeyong’s life story. maybe it was too much for him. or maybe he was just an addict.

“i cheated. and i was mean. she was the best thing ever though. she got me clean.”

“for what? a day?” johnny laughs outloud.

“well, not clean clean.” he explains. “but off the hard stuck like coke, and lsd and shit. we both smoked weed. and I smoked cigs.”

“ew!” the two of them exclaim. “cigs?”

“so you’re telling me that the two of you do every drug under the sun, but cigarettes are where you draw the line?”

“duh!”

“have you seen all the commercials? with the person with the hole in their throat sounding like the old shriveled lady from spongebob going ‘chocolate!’ we don’t want that!”

“cigarettes aren’t the only thing that can cause that, you know?”

“whatever.” johnny shivers as if he had just gotten the worse news ever. “so this girl wasn’t a druggie? why did she even like you?”

“i don’t know. still to this day I don’t know. but she did. and she tried everything to make me happy. it just felt too good to be true, so I ruined it.”

“damn bro.” mark sighs, taking a deep puff of his blunt. “i thought people only did stupid shit like that in the movies or tv shows.”

“hey hey now, markie.” a voice speaks out of the corner. “be nice to our new friend.”

it’s jaehyun. funny enough, jaehyun tried to get at you once long before you met taeyong, but you had no interest in him once you found out his issues. then again, while he was attracted to you, he didn’t want you to love him. he just wanted to corrupt you.

“our boy is broken hearted. seems to me like he just needs some fun.”

“relax, jae.” johnny explains. “he’s not there yet. let him fall for us on his time.”

“what are you on right now?” jaehyun inspects.

“just a couple of blunts.”

“so just a starter?”

“hyung...” mark sighs.

“okay okay. fine. but when the heartbreak starts to kick in more, i got something that’ll change your life. you just let me know.”

“he will.” johnny and mark say once again in unison.

“boys!” a voice yells. it makes everyone stand up minus taeyong, as he had no idea who it was. he can hear feet coming down the steps. there’s a boy with blonde hair. the same boy who let him in. he was a new face, but clearly an important one from the way even jaehyun was waiting for his comment.

“hi felix!” everyone begins to repeat after eachother.

his voice is deep as he speaks, and his accent is thick. his face itself may have not been scary, but the way he carried himself was.

“clean up this fucking mess. i know you can’t do anything about the shitty couches, but make an attempt. i got some good people coming over and I need quiet. when I bring them down here to show them the product, i need everyone on their best behavior.”

“what exactly does that mean?” taeyong speaks. maybe he shouldn’t have, because everyone is looking at him as if he just called the president a bitch to his face or something.

“you’re new here.” felix explains as he finishes his strut down the stairs. he can be seen more clearly now, and his outfit reminds taeyong of someone you knew. he couldn’t remember his name, but it was chan or something. “well, new to me.”

“and?”

“and...” felix crouches to his level. “im the boss. and all of you do what I say. my brother ran this like a crackhouse. i want us to make some real money, therefore you all will be getting cleaned up. there will be people coming in and out, looking at what we have, so try not to act like the druggie you are. thanks.”

“yes sir.” taeyong says, although he has no intentions of respecting this felix cat.

the doorbell rings promptly. the house wasn’t so big that they wouldn’t be able to hear. clearly this felix had plans to change that, but for now he had to settle.

“that’ll be them. look like friends so they won’t be scared. they’re not like us. or, what you will be.”

with that he leaves. everyone is silent as they want to know who exactly is this person. they all expected some rich man with a million connections to be at the door. they hear one voice - an accent is present. he’s laughing, and they hear the sound of them dapping up.

“friend.” the voice says. they must have not seen each other in a long while. “what’s up? how have you been?”

“oh, I’ve never been better.” felix says. “and y/n.”

the sound of your name makes taeyong’s heart stop in his chest. what the? how could you of all people be here? you hated drugs. this was clearly a trap house. this is where taeyong would go to get everything you wanted, but you always refused to go with him. what male had you here?

jaehyun is smiling as he recognizes your name too. taeyong can’t notice though as he is genuinely about to have a panic attack.

“come downstairs will you? since chan told me it was a special occasion, I decided I’d let you two take a look.”

“felix...are you running a trap house?” you joke, not realizing how true your words were.

“not at all, sweets.” he relaxes you. “i just have good shit from my brother that needs to be sold. this is our little secret though.”

“we know.” chan answers for you. “snitches get stitches.”

“and end up in ditches.” felix finishes. “there are people down here, but they’re just chilling. don’t be scared.”

the three of you make your way down to the basement. jaehyun is the first face you recognize. you feel sick, but he didn’t phase you that much.

the black haired boy though, sandwiched between two other guys, makes your trip and fall on the disgusting floor.

it’s him. it’s really him.

why? all you wanted to do was have fun. all you wanted to do was forget him.

you can see in his eyes does he want to explode. but this was his fault. this was all his fault.

to be continued...

[jjkfire]

Obey

Reader x Taehyung // mafia!AU // 8k words

Summary: You’re the agency’s worst escort and yet the local mafia’s head of security still chooses you

Genre: Smut, Fluff (?)

A/N: how long has this been sitting in my drafts? too long. anyway, smut? who is she? i forgot.

Having to pay off loan sharks and save up for graduate school isn’t exactly easy. Your day job pays you good money but the interest on the illegal loan your estranged father left you with, compounds with each growing day. You knew coming back to your hometown had been a mistake but with your mother’s recent death, you didn’t know where else to go. Who knew that when you returned, you’d be slapped with a debt so big that you couldn’t even dream of paying it off? You haven’t seen your father since you were 4 but that didn’t stop the loan sharks. They needed their money back and you were his only available next of kin. You needed more money and you needed it quick. That’s why when your co-worker, Seokjin tells you of an opening at the local escort agency, you jump at the chance.

Seokjin is an angel, that much you’re convinced. He’s pulled so many strings just for you and you don’t think there’s any way you can ever repay his kindness. He pretty much runs the HR side of things for the escort agency and is the only reason why you’ve been allowed to get away with most of the nonsense that you do. In summary, you’re a horrible escort and Jin covers for you every time.

The local escort agency is a rather interesting organization. It serviced mainly the local mafia boys, providing the men with entertainment every time they stopped by the lounge. Whatever it was they were interested in doing for the night, be that gambling, karaoke or even just plain old drinking, the lounge was the place for that. All the newbies to the escort agency were often made to work most nights, servicing these men. 

The job was simple. You were basically glorified arm candy. You would bring the boys their drinks, let them touch your butt a little or let them kiss your neck if they wanted to and then go home with a few extra hundred-dollar bills. Now just as all the other girls, clients could choose to call you up and rent you for a night. Yet, you’ve made it a whole year without that happening. Any other one of the escorts would be upset about that because everyone knows you get more money if you actually spent the night with someone. It’s a bit of a talent of yours, turning clients away from you without putting yourself in jeopardy but this time around, you seem to have run out of luck.

Tonight, you find yourself standing in line with 4 other girls, facing a double-sided mirror. It’s common practice for when someone high up in the mafia hierarchy was looking for a new plaything… or so you’ve been told. This is your first time ever being in this room. To put off the client, you chose an ill-fitting dress for the night. You hadn’t even bothered to put on make-up either. Your agency has long stopped trying to tell you what to do. Lord knows Jin has given up months ago. Anyway, you’re not sure why you’re even here. You rarely— or more accurately, never got selected from the binder because you had made it a mission to make yourself sound rather boring, unappealing even and you even made sure to be extremely honest about your lack of sexual prowess.

Yet, despite all of that, you were selected… and by Kim Taehyung no less. See, this time you were actually nervous. No one had seen you in this state before, actually trembling.

Last week

“Why was my profile even in the binder? Don’t you usually offer some sort of premium binder with only the best girls to clients as important as him?” You ask Jin as you pace up and down his office.

“We did but then he asked for the general binder. Said that he didn’t quite trust our taste.”

“Honestly, my profile shouldn’t even be in the binder anymore,” You groan.

Truth is, you shouldn’t even be an employee anymore but they needed pretty faces to entertain the boys. See, you wanted the money from being an escort but you weren’t quite sure about the sex part. The last boyfriend you had, had made sure you were painfully aware at how bad you were at pleasing men. So, you and Jin came up with the master plan to help you become an escort without really being one. Together you curated your profile, making sure that the men would skip right past your page when going through the binder of girls they could select from. It’s worked so far. You’ve fooled every single man that’s gone through the binder… except Taehyung of course.

Seokjin and every living, breathing soul had told you to keep your distance from him. See, Taehyung was the Head of Security for the local mafia. That meant he was the fixer. If there was a problem in any form, that being a situation or even a person, he would make the problem disappear. Easy, fast, quick. Taehyung embodied efficiency. They said he worked like a robot, pulling the trigger with absolutely no remorse. So, the word on the street was if you just so much as breathe wrongly in his presence, he could end you right there, right then. Around him, mistakes weren’t allowed and thus, you were told that if you ever got selected to be his regular, your life expectancy would sink like a rock.

You should’ve listened, you really should’ve. You should’ve found other ways to keep yourself busy but it’s not your fault that the girls didn’t give you a good enough description of him the first night you met him. They said tall and dangerous but to you, Taehyung seemed anything but dangerous.

There were girls aplenty that night you were working the lounge. You slipped away into the other room, knowing full well that you wouldn’t be missed. You arranged and rearranged the strawberries and assorted snacks on the many different plates. You twisted and turned all the alcohol bottles laid out and read their labels over and over just to pass time. You munched on the snacks, humming a tune as you looked out the window to see the town you call home. It’s not until you saw Taehyung in the reflection that you jumped in your spot, quickly swallowing what you had in your mouth before dusting your dress off any crumbs.

“C-can I get anything for you? Whiskey, maybe?” You asked with a smile despite the fact that you had been caught red-handed slacking on the job.

“A double shot gin and tonic would be nice,” He smiled and you got to work immediately. You were stirring the tall glass soon after, ready to lead him into the main room but he made himself comfortable on one of the couches behind you instead.

“It’s getting a little rowdy out there,” He laughed. “You know how Jimin gets when he’s having a good game of blackjack.”

You only nodded, laughing before you set down his drink in front of him. You stood awkwardly before him, unsure if you were meant to join him or return to the main room. As if sensing your unease, he called for you to take a seat.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” He hummed, stirring his drink. “Are you new?”

“Me? Oh, I’ve been here a few months already so not exactly new… but I’m Y/N,” You smiled, introducing yourself.

“Taehyung,” He grinned in return and he watched your eyes go wide, like you had a moment of realization. “Judging by your expression, you’ve heard of me?”

“Y-yeah… You’re the Head of Security. A very important man,” You laughed but he could sense the fear behind your laughter.

Though you were awkward at first, you quickly became comfortable. Taehyung was easy to be around, interesting to talk to and with every night you saw him, the two of you only grew closer. He would often find you in the back room, the same way he found you the first time, munching away on snacks meant for him and the boys. The two of you would be lost in your own world, talking about anything from conspiracy theories to sports to world politics and even local gossip. That’s not to say all the two of you ever did was talk. Sometimes he had his hand halfway up your skirt, your lips melding against his, moving at a set rhythm until you pull away, breathless, but aching for more. You guess you didn’t actually mind it. Taehyung was easy on the eyes, and that was an understatement. If anything it was sure as hell better than being fondled by some 50 year old guy. Maybe it also had to do with the fact that you were inexperienced, that this was the most action you’ve gotten since you broke up with your boyfriend more than 3 years ago. If anything, it was an ego boost. Who would say no to making out with someone like him? The answer is well… almost everybody, but contrary to what everyone said, Taehyung seemed harmless. In fact, he was rather sweet. Always taking his time with you, always respectful.

You believed it, you really did. You understood that Taehyung might be a ruffian at work but when it was just you and him, he was anything but. Jin had to sit you down and really knock some sense into you, detailing his crimes, reiterating stories he had heard. He was ruthless, a maniac. Someone who would slit your throat without hesitation. Jin said you and the other girls had to understand that if Taehyung picked any one of you, there was no room for anything but perfection. You knew among the 5 girls that he had chosen, you were the weakest link and for your sake, everyone prayed he wouldn’t choose you because if he did, it was game over. It wasn’t just your life at risk you see, it was everyone’s. If Taehyung was unhappy with the service, after dealing with you, the next to go would be Jin and given Taehyung’s reputation, everyone would follow suit. It won’t be you, you mumbled. He wasn’t stupid. The boys talk about the escorts among themselves. He must know that any of the other girls would be a much better choice. You were worrying for nothing, you smiled. It wasn’t going to be you, you were confident it wasn’t.

“Y/N,” Jin hears Taehyung say through his earpiece. With unsteady fingers, he points at you and Taehyung gives an affirmation.

When Jin grabs you by the hand, attempting to lead you out of the room, you hesitate. You were so sure you weren’t going to be chosen, not when you were standing next to what were the top stars of the agency. Panic rises within you because you’re not ready for this responsibility. You couldn’t have the fate of the agency resting in your hands.

“I have herpes!” You shout, lying, eyes roaming around the double-sided mirror, not knowing where exactly he was standing. “Tell him I have herpes,” You tell Jin who winces when you tug his arm with urgency.

“He says he doesn’t care,” Jin mumbles, tapping at his earpiece.

“W-wait— Taehy—”

You don’t get to finish your sentence because Jin is already dragging you out of the room. He wears an expression you’ve never seen before. It’s anger and fear, all mixed into one and when he pins you with his stare, you choose to look at your feet.

The elevator ride is silent, the doors opening with a ding when it reaches the top floor, the suite reserved for only the best clients. The last time you were in here was for a training session. You were taught how to work the room. Where to sit, what to do, how to entice the men. You struggle to remember most of it now, not when you’re thinking of how you were going to even survive tonight.

“Jin, please, you need to do something,” You whine, almost thrashing in your spot when you stop in front of the door. “Tell him something, tell him—”

“Stop making a scene! There’s nothing I can do now, do you understand?” Jin grumbles, shaking you. “Listen once you go into that room, I can’t really protect you anymore. You know what he’s capable of so, keep that pretty trap of yours shut.”

You simply nod, suddenly rendered mute by the warning. Before shutting the door on you, Jin flashes you a thumbs up, trying to look optimistic but you know more than anyone that he’s scared. In some way, he feels responsible for all of this and god, if anything happens to you, he’s not sure he can forgive himself. With shaky legs, you step further into the room, scanning the suite for a place to sit. Your eyes snap to the bed and you assume that’s where he would want you to be. It’s where you’ve been taught to sit anyway.

It isn’t long before you hear the door creak, Taehyung stepping into the room with a soft smile on his lips. He greets you and all you do is wave dumbly. God, you’re absolutely adorable. While unbuttoning his blazer, he realizes you look different tonight. The expression you wear mimics the one you had on the first time he met you. Fear. He could see it on every inch of your face.

“I uhh— I have herpes,” You mumble, again, as a last-ditch effort.

“I know you don’t,” Taehyung sighs, holding up a piece of paper that you know holds the results from the STD test that the agency made you go for just a few days ago.

“How are you so sure? The test results could be fabricated.”

“Oh your agency wouldn’t dare,” He laughs, placing his blazer on the back of a chair.

“Maybe I slept with someone last night,” You mumble, shuffling your feet. You mean to sound confident but it comes out sounding as anything but that.

“Yeah? And how was it then?” He asks as he removes his gun from his waistband, setting it down on the table. The sight makes Jin’s numerous warnings sound in your head again. This was no time to lie, no time to joke.

“Mustn’t have been that great if it’s taking you so long to answer,” He chuckles, noting your silence.

“I-I didn’t sleep with anyone last night,” You sigh, hands folding nervously in your lap.

Taehyung simply laughs before striding over to take a seat next to you. You’re nervous that much he can tell. You can’t even look him in the eye.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” He murmurs, and you gulp, forcing yourself to look at him just so you can nod.

At that, he smiles. He stands up and makes his way over to the ice bucket tucked in the corner of the room.

“Champagne?”

“Yes, please.”

That’s the only sentence you’ve said so far with absolute certainty.

He walks over, glass of champagne in one hand and plate of strawberries in another. You accept them both meekly. Twirling the glass of champagne in your hand while you munch on a strawberry.

You’re a nervous eater and drinker. You knocked back glasses of champagne and almost cleared the whole plate of strawberries on your own.

“I have a feeling you don’t do this very often,” Taehyung smiles, refilling your glass for what must’ve been the 5th time now.

“H-huh? Oh, um, sorry,” You mumble as you snap into action. You tug your dress a little lower by the cleavage before you move up on the bed. You move slow, Taehyung watching as you kick off your shoes. Taking your time, you lay on your side, shoulders rolled back so your chest was on display. Your other hand slides to rest on your hip, before it slides down lower, drawing his attention to what he wanted the most. With your champagne still in hand, you put on a sultry expression, one you’ve been coached to make. Your free hand reaches for a strawberry, stopping to lick your lips just after a bite.

Taehyung takes a seat on the bed, laughing as he shook his head. When he turns to look at you, he sees a frown on your face. You didn’t understand. You did everything they told you to do. He was supposed to be smirking, not laughing. Taehyung pats the spot next to him, beckoning you over to take a seat.

“It doesn’t suit you,” He hums, when you’re finally at his side. “The whole sexy act they teach you girls to put on.”

“But, I-I’m plenty sexy,” You pout. You knew you weren’t a bombshell like some of the other girls were but you had your… well, charm.

“You are, you are,” He grins, pulling you onto his lap with ease as he’s done many times before. “I never said you weren’t. I just think you’re sexier when you’re doing your own thing, not whatever they teach you,” He hums as he pulls you in closer, his chest now flush against your back.

“But the act is what you boys like,” You mumble, as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “You know, we flash some skin, sway our hips, wink a little and by then you’ll all be drooling already.”

Taehyung lets out a breathy laugh, one hand wrapped around your centre while the other reaches for his champagne glass. He simply clinks his glass against yours with a smile.

“I can’t deny that,” He sighs after setting aside both his glass and yours. “But you see I much prefer you like this. Disobedient and sassy.”

You can’t see his face but you can almost imagine the smirk he’s wearing right now. It’s the one he always flashes you when he’s busy ogling you. His fingers toy with the sleeves of your dress that sit awkwardly on your shoulder, slipping them off with practised ease, as if he does this all the time and you sit there in his lap, too afraid to move.

“T-Taehy—"

There’s a hum of approval that leaves his lips, when your dress pools at your waist, his fingers brushing the underside of your bra. He peppers your shoulder with kisses, moving along until he reached your neck, his lips moving slow, leaving marks that you are sure will show tomorrow. Your breath stutters, quiet moans leaving your lips as his hand moves up to wrap around your throat. It’s right and it’s wrong. You want to but you can’t and you mean to stay silent but you can’t help but say what’s been on your mind since he stepped into the room.

“I haven’t had sex in years,” You blurt out, your eyes shut tight as you feel his lips pull away, the grip around your neck now loose as his hand drops back to your waist.

“I don’t know if they lied on my profile but I genuinely haven’t done it in years,” You sigh, hands toying with the material of your dress. They must’ve lied on your profile. Otherwise, Taehyung would’ve never picked you. “And I know they give us ratings, in terms of how good we are in bed and—”

“They rated you a 1/10.”

“Really? Wh—wha— T-That’s mean. I think I’m at least a solid three,” You huff. Three was the arbitrary number you and Jin had decided on because you were bad, but you weren’t that bad. “Anyway, that’s not my point.”

“What is your point then, love?” He asks and you twist in his lap to look at him. His hold on you is still tender, hands softly sitting on your hips.

“There’s a girl we have, Mirae. She’s a 10/10. Everyone that’s been with her, loves her.”

“Yes, I’m familiar with her. She was in the final line-up,” Taehyung mumbles, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What did she have to do with anything the two of you were doing right now?

“Exactly! You can just call them up, say you’re dissatisfied with me and ask for Mirae,” You smile. “They’ll send her right up.”

“But I’m not dissatisfied with you,” He frowns, utterly at a loss at why you would think so.

“O-okay, but she’s a guarantee 10/10 will blow your mind type of girl,” You mumble.

Your gaze is fixed somewhere else, as if you were too afraid to look him in the eye. It’s odd. You seemed to have had no problems being in his presence all the weeks prior to this. Maybe he was just so caught up in his own emotions to realize that you wanted none of this. Though, he’s sure that’s not the case. Most of the times he had you in his lap in the lounge, you’d be moaning into his mouth as you kissed him back as fervently as he did. You’d drive him crazy, grinding down on him as if you wanted more, moaning sinful things into his ears.

“Do I make you feel uncomfortable?”

“No… no, not at all.”

“So then do I scare you?”

“Not exactly,” You murmur, fingers pinching at your dress. “It’s just… you’re an important guy a-and we strive to impress. I also can’t afford to lose this job,” You mumble, eyes downcast.

“So you think you’re going to lose this job if I’m not impressed?”

“It’s a possibility, yes.”

“I’ll tell them you were a 10/10 mind blowing experience even if you were atrocious if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You look up at him with wide eyes, as if hope was gleaming in them and at that he could only smile. My god, you had him wrapped around your finger and you didn’t even know it.

“A-and you can’t take it out on anyone at the agency,” You mumble.

“You have my word, love,” He grins, nodding. “And I am always a man of my word.”

See, he’s anything but dangerous. You didn’t understand why everyone sees him as some type of monster.

“So,” He hums, twisting you back into your original spot, his chest pressed against your back once more. “Now back to business. You said you haven’t had sex in years? Is that why you’re always dripping even when all we’ve been doing is kissing?”

“I-I do not know what you’re talking about.”

Taehyung laughs, lips tucked between his teeth when you attempt to shrink away.

“There’s no need to be shy about it,” He smiles, hands moving down towards your thigh. His fingers massage your inner thighs, slowly making its way up. They creep higher and higher and you whimper, especially so when he lets out a breathy laugh. “So, you decided to skip the panties today,” He notes when he finds nothing but your smooth skin. His fingers move through your folds, making you squirm in his hold. “And here I was, thinking you didn’t want any of this.”

“I… I ran out of time,” You mumble. “Couldn’t find a clean pair.”

Taehyung snorts, shaking his head. You surely are an interesting character.

“I’m not complaining,” He smirks. “It just makes my job easier.”

Taehyung surely takes his time, his fingers moving at a glacial pace as his lips continue their work on your neck. You want to tell him to speed it up, to do something because you needed your 3-year drought to come to an end.

“You have something to say?” He questions as you continue to whine and fidget.

“I want more,” You murmur.

“More? More what, love?”

You know he’s just teasing. He knows what you want. How could he possibly not.

“Tell me, what do you want? Is it my fingers in your pussy?” He smirks, plunging two of them into you without any warning whatsoever and you moan, your eyebrows knit together at the sensation. “Or do you want me to touch you here? Work this until you’re sore and begging me to stop?” He queries, his thumb beginning to rub your clit in tight circles. You screw your eyes shut at the feeling, your hand fisting the sheets by your side as you spread your legs wider. God, it’s been too long, you think to yourself. This could hardly compare to your nightly routine of rubbing one out yourself under the blanket. The way his fingers stretch you when he curls them upwards makes you feel delirious and all you can do is mumble his name over and over. His thumb rubs tighter, faster circles against your bundle of nerves and you bite down on your lip to muffle the choked noises that threaten to spill out of your mouth.

“Look at you, you’re making such a mess,” He murmurs into your ear. The way his lips ghosts the shell of your ear makes a shiver run through you. His lips slowly moves down to leave marks on your neck, his tongue laving across the spots he’s decorated your skin with. “You’re dripping all over. Is it because you haven’t been touched in a while or because you’ve never been touched like this at all?”

You can’t answer, not when he’s doing all of that. Your mouth hangs open, almost as if you’re trying to answer him but all that leaves your throat are soft moans. Taehyung only laughs, his free hand moving to unbuckle your bra, fingers pinching your nipples when you finally help him rid yourself of the bra.

“Answer me, love,” He grins, teasing your nipple again, the act eliciting yet another moan out of you. “Has anyone else made you feel like this?”

“N-no,” You manage to say. “M-my ex wasn’t into anything other than doing it in the doggy position.”

“That’s a shame,” He sighs. “He never got to see you like this, moaning and whimpering, all desperate for more,” He hums, his hand abandoning your chest to move up to your throat, squeezing it lightly.

“I’m gonna cum,” You choke out as you begin to see white behind your eyelids, your legs trembling as he picks up the pace, his fingers pumping in and out of you with fervour.

“Not yet, love. You only cum when I say so.”

“I c-cant—”

“Ah, but you will,” He mumbles, adding a third finger, making you let out a choked sob. He wears an evil smirk as he teases your breast with his hand, his fingers moving to pinch your nipple harshly. You let out a whimper, your head lolling back as you try to ignore the tension in the pit of your stomach that threatens to snap.

“Please, please Taehyung, I—" Your sentence is cut short by a moan because he presses against your clit harder, rubbing figure eights at a pace that almost makes you go limp. You can feel your control begin to slip, your legs trembling as the pressure building in your abdomen finally snaps and you see nothing but hot white behind your eyelids. You’re panting, grinding down onto Taehyung’s lap as a slew of cuss words escape you. The man is relentless, his digits curling into your walls, his thumb still continuing on at its furious pace as you climb down from your high.

“I guess you’re not very good at following orders,” Taehyung sighs, clicking his tongue as he finally stops, pulling his hand away from your sopping pussy. He brings his hand up to your mouth, forcing you to lick clean your juices off his fingers and you do, tongue moving across them as you suck. “Dirty girl,” He smirks, pulling his digits out of your mouth before he grabs you by the waist, twisting you in his lap so you were facing him again.

“So what shall we do with you, hmm?” He prompts, his hold tender but his gaze otherwise. “I don’t take too kindly to disobedient sluts,” He huffs, removing his hold on you to loosen the tie he’s been wearing. You gulp, almost trembling because you couldn’t quite tell what he was going to do next. With the tie still in his hands, he reaches over to lift you up off his lap, urging to make yourself at home higher up the bed. He smirks, eyeing you in all your glory and with a single finger he points at your dress still pooled at your waist. You nod in understanding, discarding it without him having to say a single word. There was no more room for mistakes.

“This time when I say you only cum when I say so, I hope you listen,” He exhales as he stands up to unbuckle his pants. “Unless of course, you wish to be punished,” He smiles, devilishly so, as he unbuttons his shirt, tossing the tie onto the bed.

“N-no, I don’t,” You mumble, stuttering, unsure exactly what kind of punishment he meant. Did he mean punishment as in he would put a bullet in your skull or punishment as in a light spank on the ass? Though the latter sounds tempting, you’re not willing to find out just what he has in store for you in case of your disobedience. “I’ll be good,” You murmur, hypnotized when he rids himself of his pants and boxers, his cock slapping against his stomach.

“Will you?” He hums, hands wrapped around his member, groaning as he pumps himself a few times, precum leaking out of the tip. You watch, mesmerized, almost drooling as he pads over closer to you. “But you know, I can’t help but think I’m being too easy on you.”

You freeze in your spot, unsure of what to do next. Luckily for you, Taehyung does all the work. With his back sinking into the pillows, he pulls you onto his lap again but this time you’re facing him.

“See, this isn’t the first time. You’re always defiant, sassy, and I can’t count the number of times I’ve wanted to fuck you stupid when we were in the lounge just so you could understand who you were dealing with,” He hums, rubbing the head of his cock against your folds. You shiver, biting your lip as you could feel it just mere centimetres away from where you wanted it to be.

“Then do it,” You tease, hand slipping down to guide his length to your entrance because if he was going to leave you waiting for so long, he obviously needed help. Taehyung only laughs at that, slapping your hand away. He guides you onto your back, pinning your hands above your head as he leaves kisses down the valley of your breasts, only stopping because he can hear you release a shaky exhale.

“Oh, I will,” He smirks, pulling away to line up his cock to your pussy. He starts slow, teasing you as he rubs his cock against your core, groaning as your juices coated his length. You whine, about to demand him to do something but before you can say anything, he plunges into you, thrusting upwards in one swift motion, giving you no time to adjust to his size. You gasp, mouth hanging open as you let out a choked sob. “Baby, I’ll fuck you so good, so hard but only if you promise to listen.”

“I-I will,” You whimper, soft moans filling up the room as he rocks against you slowly.

“Good,” He mumbles before his tongue envelops one of your nipples. “Now keep your hands there. No touching until I say so.”

You only nod in response, barely able to hear him as your mind goes blank, his cock brushing against the spot that made your toes curl. Your body felt like it was on fire, his touch making you keen against him, his lips making your mind grow hazy.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” He groans, eyes screwed shut as he delivers on his promise, thrusting into you so hard that you could almost feel him in your throat. He lifts your legs up over his shoulder and god, you didn’t think he could make you feel any better but as he buries his cock into you to the hilt, you can only moan in return. Taehyung whines, meeting your tongue in a sloppy kiss, lips moving against yours with fervour. It takes everything in you to not reach out to tug at his hair, to pull him closer. You needed him, wanted him.

“Tae, I-I want—” You manage to choke out between kisses but he silences you with his lips.

“More?” He asks, laughing breathily as he pulls out halfway before he slams back into you. Your eyes roll back as he does it a few more times, rendering you silent apart from the long moans that leave you without your consent. “You’re a greedy little slut, aren’t you?”

“Tae,” You murmur, your walls clenching around him as he thrusts deeper, harder.

“Don’t do that, baby. Not yet,” He warns, slipping a thumb into your mouth. You nod, tongue wrapping around it as you suck. Fuck, you were driving him insane. His other hand holds onto your waist with a grip so tight you’re sure it’ll bruise tomorrow. You could care less, especially when he was making you feel this good. You could already feel it, the coil in your stomach being held together solely by your will threatening to release, your muscles tightening and Taehyung warns you once more when you clench around him yet another time.

“Be good,” He grumbles, his grip on your waist tightening and you wail, nodding as you focus on keeping yourself together. You lace your hands through his hair, finding purchase on whatever you can, as if doing any of that could help you from falling apart.

“What did I say about touching?” Taehyung growls, as he pulls away from you, your pussy clenching at the sudden emptiness. Your eyes snap open, eyebrows tucked together in worry as Taehyung sighs, reaching for his tie at the end of the bed.

“S-sorry, I was just trying to—”

Taehyung isn’t interested in your excuses. He flips you over, almost as if you weighed nothing, quickly pinning your hands behind your back.

“Since you have trouble listening, let me help you,” He mumbles, using his necktie to tie your hands together, the soft silk digging into your wrists as he double knots it. He huffs, lifting you by the waist so you were now on your knees, the side of your face still pressed to the mattress. “I knew I was being too easy on you,” He mumbles, hand splayed over your ass that was now on show for him. Without warning, he brings his hand down harshly onto the flesh of your ass, making you tuck your lips between your teeth, partially muffling your moan.

“So, are you going to behave now?”

“Yes!” You cry, nodding into the sheets.

“No more chances,” Taehyung mumbles. “Next time you disobey me, I’m going to leave you high and dry, begging me to make you cum.”

You don’t even have the chance to say anything because Taehyung wastes no time, hand around your neck as his cock pushes past your folds, filling you up once again.

“Fuuuck,” You moan as he thrusts into you, his fat cock stretching you out deliciously. You clench your fists, wrists struggling against his necktie because all you wanted right now was to tug at his hair or dig your nails into his skin. God, he was driving you insane.

His hand around your neck isn’t there to choke you but more so he could find leverage to slam into you harder. You whimper and whine, legs threatening to give way with every time he thrusts into you.

“You don’t know how long I’ve thought about you like this,” He groans. “All pretty and obedient for me, moaning my name. So fucking good for me.”

The latter part of his sentence is punctuated by his thrusts, his arm wrapped around your centre helps hold you up as your thighs turn to jelly. His rhythm is sloppy now and you can tell he’s close just by the way he’s whining in your ear.

“Just for you,” You cry, as his hand slips down towards your clit, rubbing the nub with just the right pressure, making your head spin. Your sentence seems to spark something in Taehyung because he grips your neck tighter, quickening his pace.

“Fuck, baby you’re driving me crazy,” He grunts as you begin to lose control, your pussy clenching against his length, making the man lose his composure. “God, your pussy feels so good, so fucking wet and tight just for me.”

“L-let me cum, please,” You beg, almost sobbing as your toes curl up in pleasure. “Please, Tae, I c-can’t anymore.”

Taehyung grunts, pulling out all the way before he plunges back in, his following thrusts short and shallow as he struggles to keep a grip on you. He bucks his hip forward, hand grabbing your shoulder as your name comes out in the form of moans. From your spot, you can see his eyebrows tucked together, his face looking absolutely fucked out and god, you’d do anything to see him look like that again. He chases his high desperately, groaning long and hard before he jerks forward, his cock stuttering as his seed spills into you, your walls clenching around him. You whine, cussing as he brings you to your high, his fingers circling your clit, making your vision go white. As he comes down from his high, he thrusts into you, hitting the bundle of nerves inside you, hitting the spot that made you hold your breath. 

“Pl-please, please, please, Taehyung, I need to cum,” You cry, wail almost as you feel the coil in your stomach grow even tighter.

“You want to cum?” He asks, grunting. You nod, whining as he picks up the pace. “Then be a good girl and cum all over my cock, baby.”

You swear you almost black out, your orgasm so intense that you can no longer hold yourself up, your limbs betraying you as you sink into the mattress, pussy pulsing as it clenches uncontrollably. Taehyung pulls out, flipping you over before his lips finds yours between your pants. His kisses are languid and soft, almost as if it’s an apology. His touch is gentle, cradling your cheeks as he kisses you senseless, sucking at your lips so you would part them for him. His free hand moves down to your pussy his fingers slowly gathering his cum that was spilling out just to push it back into you and you squirm under his hold, whimpering. He continues for a while, his fingers brushing over your clit every so often so he could hear you whine, asking him to stop as your pussy throbbed, feeling a tad bit sensitive.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” He asks as he undoes the necktie that holds your hands together. He frowns, hands smoothing over your wrists that have been rubbed raw. The question catches you off guard, his entire demeanour does. You’re pretty sure most guys do not treat their escorts this way.

“It’s fine, Taehyung. I-I liked it,” You mumble, eyes downcast. At that he smiles, grabbing the soft towel from the nearby table along with his blazer with him. He’s mostly quiet as he cleans you up. Of course he kind of sits there mesmerized as he watches his cum leak out of your pussy. Damn, you seriously don’t understand what you do to him.

Taehyung offers you his shirt before he puts on his boxers and you sit there, awkwardly buttoning his shirt because isn’t he supposed to leave now? Isn’t that how these things usually go? The men would come here, have their fun and leave immediately after. Why was he still here, lingering?

He soon returns to the bed, his hand reaching into the pockets of his blazer to pull out something. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as he produces two packets, a giant foot printed on each one. You stare it for a little longer before a dawn of realization hits you and you smile, immediately unwrapping the packet when he hands it to you.

“Oh my god, I love these. I almost forgot they existed,” You smile, pulling out the lollipop that was shaped in a foot before carefully dipping it back into the bottom of the packet that held the fizzy powder. “It’s so hard to find them nowadays.”

“Yeah, you can only get them at those really old family owned sundry shops now,” He smiles, unwrapping his own one.

“Seriously, I love this candy so much,” You laugh. “It brings me back to my childhood.”

Taehyung only grins as he makes himself comfortable among the pillows. He beckons you over by patting the spot next to him.

“You know, this sort of feels like it’s meant to console me. Like a hey, you were bad in bed but here, have a lollipop! It’ll make you feel better,” You laugh and Taehyung blushes.

“Th-That’s not what I meant by giving you this lollipop. If anything you’re leagues better than the 3/10 that you think you are.”

“Well, what was your intention then?”

“Nothing really,” He hums. “It’s just that I’m a man of my word is all.”

18 years ago

“It’s not that bad really,” You assure the boy that’s crying in front of you. “It doesn’t hurt one bit,” You smile, wiping the blood away from your lips.

You’re lying. It hurts… a lot and you kind of regret standing up to the bullies but you weren’t just going to sit back and watch those older boys beat up that same little kid again.

“I’m so sorry,” He mumbles, sobbing. “Next time you shouldn’t try to help.”

“I can’t leave you alone like that,” You frown. “They’re just being big meanies. You didn’t even do anything wrong.”

The boy sighs. You’re as stubborn as an ox. How could you not see that this was a losing battle? They were going to bully him forever. He was an easy target, the poor boy with tattered clothes and no money for food. He just came to the playground to escape from the constant fights his parents would have. He just wanted one moment of peace, and if not the playground, he had nowhere else to go. It was better than home anyway. Even if he got beat up here, at least he would get his moment of peace whenever he laid in the sand box alone, sobbing. At least there was no shouting here once the sun begins to set.

“Oh, my mum’s here,” You hum, breaking the boy out of the trance he was in. “Come on!” You smile, grabbing him by the hand, leading him to your mother.

“What the— Y/N, what happened?” Your mother questions, panicked.

“Well, we—,” You point to yourself and then to the boy next to you. “—stood up to the bullies!”

Your mother sighs, crouching down to inspect your split lip. She can only shake her head as you give her a grin, wincing in pain when you smile too wide.

“And you, oh sweetheart,” She mumbles, softly turning to see his face littered with bruises. “Where are your parents?”

“Busy fighting, throwing things at each other,” The boy answers honestly.

Your mother hums, gulping nervously.

“What’s your name?”

“Kim,” He answers easily with his last name that he shares with thousands of people. His father had told him not to give out his full name. Especially since there’s an order out to kidnap a Kim Taehyung. The mafia needed some leverage so that his father would actually pay back his debt.

“O-okay, Kim,” Your mother smiles. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

“Can I?” He asks, absolutely beaming at the thought of finally being able to eat a hot meal.

“Sure, what would you like to have? Y/N here likes— Where’d she go? Y/N—”

Your mother only grumbles to herself as she watches you run back towards her, two little packets in your hand.

“I told you to stop running off like that,” Your mother frowns.

“But he was going to leave,” You mumble, pointing to the ice-cream man who’s packing up his cart, putting away the assorted candies he sold along with his ice-cream. “Here,” You smile, handing a packet to the boy. He inspects it with furrowed eyebrows, twisting the packet with a large foot printed on it.

Your obsession with the weirdly shaped lollipop honestly drives your mother crazy. It certainly didn’t help that it was not the easiest candy to find.

“It tastes funny,” The boy mumbles, noting that the candy fizzes in his mouth. “And it’s sour,” He murmurs, face scrunching up at the taste. “But I like it.”

“Exactly! It’s the best!” You smile, dipping the lollipop back into the packet to pick up some more powder.

Your mother takes the both of you by the hand, leading you two to a nearby restaurant. She picks the place because she’s had a long day and she really just wants a good plate of fried rice to heal her soul. She notes the Kim boy is rather quiet, but in your presence, he seems to light up. Shame, she sighs. It’s nice that you were getting along so well with this kid, but you and your mother are moving away to another town in just a few days. Moreover, it didn’t quite sit well with her that the boy had said some rather disturbing things about his home life… and the fact that he was being bullied daily at the playground, that hurt her heart too. But, it was hard taking care of you alone. She didn’t really need more to worry about, in fact she couldn’t afford it.

“You sure you’ll be okay walking home?” Your mother asks, as the three of you stand outside the restaurant.

“Yes.”

“We can walk you home if you would just let us know where it is.”

“My parents really don’t like me giving out our address to strangers,” He mumbles, staring at his feet.

“Okay,” Your mother hums. “You be safe, alright?”

Taehyung nods, ready to walk away when you stop him, making him stand there as you tug at your mother’s sleeve, making her crouch down so you could whisper in her ear.

“Please,” You beg, hands clasped together as your mother gives you a pointed look after having heard your request. She sighs before she nods and digs into her purse for her wallet. The grin you have on when she hands you the money is truly precious.

“Here, take this,” You smile, handing the boy the $20 your mother had just given you. “Don’t let those stupid boys hurt you anymore a-and get yourself something nice to eat tomorrow.”

“Y/N,” He says, dumbfounded, staring at the bill in his hand.

“Oh and here,” You grin, putting the lollipop packet in his hand. “I was saving this for later but I think you should have it.”

“Y/N,” He repeats in the same tone, still in shock. He knows he should say something along the lines of no, I can’t take any of this but the truth is… he wanted both of those things in his hands badly.

“I’ll see you around Kim,” You mumble as you wave at him, walking backwards to your mum who’s waiting further ahead.

“I… I promise I’ll get you this when I have money next time!” He shouts, holding up the packet. “I’ll pay you back 100 times the amount,” He says, pointing at the $20.

“You promise?”

“I promise!”

Taehyung is a man of his word, always has been and always will be. It’s why when you go to drop off your monthly installment for the debt your father owes, they inform you that with the amount you had just paid, you had completely cleared the debt. They tell you that they were surprised to receive the money you mailed in last week and the truth is, so are you but you only nod nonchalantly. You make sure to get the proper documentation from them, to confirm that they were absolutely certain that your account has been cleared. You walk out of there with a nice little slip with their insignia and a gang member’s signature that verifies that the debt has been paid in full. You laugh to yourself, absolutely grateful for their miscalculation or rather, mismanagement. You actually had hundreds and thousands left to pay but hey, you’re not going to tell them that. God, you can’t wait to tell Taehyung what dumbasses his rivals are.

*bonus*

check out this ask for extras like how tae knew it was oc and if he ever tells her that he’s the little boy she helped out!

A/N: as always, thanks for reading and feedback is always welcome!!! (: also this was meant to be a drabble… i swear… but u kno meeeee

[taerseok]

↬ pairing:. badboy!Jungkook × childhoodfriend!Reader

↬ synopsis:. ❝ Nevermind, I’ll find someone like you. I wish nothing but the best for you too. Don’t forget me, I beg. I remember you said; ‘sometimes it lasts in love. But sometimes it hurts instead.’ ❞

Or, alternatively:

↬ synopsis:. ❝ you and a handsome prince from a neighbouring kingdom team up to spin the worst fairytale the lands have ever laid their eyes upon. ❞

↬ word count:. 15.5k

↬ genre(s):. modern royalty!au, fake dating/fake marriage!au, childhood friends!au, angst, fluff, attempted humour

↬ rating:. pg-15

↬ warning(s):. cheating, suicide, language, alcohol, comatose, mental illness, disturbing scenes, rebounds, e.t.c.

↬ playlist:. play here!

▪ note:. this is a part of the royalty!au collab with my good friend, Addison @aesthetical-witch and I was very inspired by Tae’s cover of someone like you to make this!

CREDITS:

• Thank you soo much to Maggie @kimtaehyunq (requested from the BHQ Request Board) for the wonderful header!

• Thank you to my good friends Ruby @rubinora and Addi @aesthetical-witch for helping me edit and providing me with feedback!

Putting your phone next to you, you sigh and turn to lay on your stomach, your cheek against the soft mattress below you. You had just seen an exhausting text message from someone you did not want to meet right now. You’d be lying if you said Jungkook didn’t still get on your nerves for something stupid he did the last time you had a ‘get-together’. The boy, who you were friends with since you both came from a royal background and your kingdoms were basically next to each other, had drunk your last carton of banana milk. 

Naturally, you both had taken a liking to the same drink, and as of currently, most of your ‘wars’ were a result of taking each other’s things and of course, drinking each other’s banana milk. Yes, it is quite idiotic to lose your shit over someone else drinking your milk, but you had every right to be mad at him and more. 

 In the text that he had sent you just a few minutes ago, he asked if you could meet him in your castle’s garden in a few minutes. You were feeling lazy as always, sitting in your bed, doing nothing, but you could not help but snicker that the guy had the audacity to ask you that when he took your banana milk. In fact, you believe he should be treating you, not asking you for any more favours than he already has. What would poor Jungkook do without you, you shake your head.  

Getting up, you take off towards the gardens of your castle. Oh, and it wasn’t much of a castle in your opinion. It did lack some of the things a normal castle would have, like large towers. But you did consider it a mansion. Most called it a castle though, mostly because royal matters were handled here. Or so you thought, anyway, you shrug. You didn’t waste your time and as soon as you got out of your room, you rush down the halls, down the stairs, and through the large doors. 

“Now where is he?” you frown. The garden was larger than one could imagine. In front of the gate to the inside of the ‘castle,’ your mother had decided to have a fountain built, and to the right and left, green, lush grass spread over quite a large chunk of land. You opted to go for the more secretive places. The boy must have driven off without his parents’ knowledge and decided to come here, and as far as you knew, if anyone would have seen him, you would have been informed. 

You looked around, running in the gardens and squinting your eyes at every shadow you saw, then sighing because none of them belonged to Jungkook — they were mostly trees, occasionally some maid working here or there. But you did find the male soon enough. He was hiding at a corner of the garden where bushes surrounded almost every point. If you didn’t know Jungkook good enough, you would have guessed he was smart. 

You run up to him, making sure no one saw you since that would likely be bad news. Whatever it had to be, Jungkook didn’t call you here for something good because it wouldn’t have to be this secretive. “Right,” you catch your breath, panting. “You better tell me something worth it because I feel like I just ran a marathon.” Running around your garden wasn’t easy, in your opinion. It took great will, certainly. “So I was right when I said that you’re just a pillow princess.“ 

You glare at Jungkook, brows furrowed. You had a bad history with him, you won’t lie. Yeah, he appeared to be quite handsome and even charming. Many girls would swoon over his gorgeous hair, his pretty face and his adorable dimples, and you wouldn’t even be surprised if he was ripped as hell. Being royalty and crown prince was just an added bonus, to be honest. But he was a brat with one big ego, and you knew that fact like the back of your hand. 

The way he teased you made blood simmer in your veins. It made you go crazy. You felt beyond helpless when that happened. And you reminded yourself over and over again not to compliment him or his ego would only inflate more. And you considered that wasn’t healthy for him, even though he really did look good. 

“Shut up and tell me what you want.” Maybe it was the fact that he spoke something really true and maybe you were a pillow princess so you wouldn’t even deny it, but it still offended you nonetheless. The nickname had been given to you when he had came over once and your mother had mentioned how you never leave your bed. Your mother really knew how to throw you under the bus, didn’t she? He chuckles, then begins to speak. “I have a request for you,” he says. You stop him right there, raising your hand in the air, gesturing him to kindly shut up. You were so done. “For fuck’s sake, Jeon Jungkook. I am not about to go through hell again just for you. Don’t you think you should act a little more independent, maybe? Maybe treat me to dinner first? I am not a 24/7 helper,” you frown, crossing your arms. 

“Who taught you to curse?” oh. You might have gotten a little too angry. But who could’ve blamed you? Jungkook wasn’t your responsibility. You didn’t have to help him and you wouldn’t this time. You just had to make it clear and may have gone a little too far. You had tried to stop yourself from cursing in front of him so you’d keep your status, but of course, that didn’t mean that you didn’t actually curse. 

“I am an independent adult. I can curse. Meanwhile…” you sigh, “you aren’t. You constantly need help from me. You’re crown prince, Jungkook! You’re supposed to be a little more mature than this.” He didn’t take any time to retort back. “Look who’s speaking. You’re not mature at all,” he says, and though his voice reflected anger, his expression remained calm. 

“We’re not talking of me here! You’re the one who came here with a request!” you exclaim, turning your back to Jungkook. You had enough of helping Jungkook over and over, you were so tired of picking the pieces of his life back up and putting it together. He had to understand that you had a life too. You had your own problems to take care of. Any time he messed up, he’d have to come to you for help. 

Like that one time, when he and some of his friends got drunk and you had to help them clean up even though none of it was your fault. And that one time when he had driven a little too fast when you were over at his ‘castle’ and then he crashed into that one shop in town. And to top off the humiliation, since he was too much of a pretty boy to own up to his mistake, you had to hold a conference to explain the situation to the media and paparazzi. Of all the people, you. 

It was getting ridiculous at this point and your head wouldn’t wrap around it. You knew he was irresponsible and maybe even careless, but still! He was going to become the next king and the kingdom depended on him. The future of his subjects depended on him. How could he risk being so careless? 

“I’m leaving if you have nothing better to say,” you sigh and take a step to leave, but he catches your wrist, pulling you back. You groan. “Jungkook, I’m a person with my own problems. I can’t always be helping you,” you turn around to look in his eyes. You could see stars in them if you gazed deeper. 

“I get it. But I trust you enough to let you know that mother is planning an arranged marriage for me,” your brows furrow at his statement. “What… do you—?”

“But I’m dating someone already.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You take a moment to let yourself digest the new information. He was dating someone? 

Okay, you two were close but never tried to get into each other’s love lives, and in addition, the man in front of you didn’t look innocent whatsoever, so he must’ve at least dated someone. But for him to tell you like this, it hurt a little.

It reminds you of how you were growing up and leaving your childhoods behind. You two had known each other for quite a long time and gotten so comfortable with one another. But to think that someday, you’ll be standing beside a man and him beside some woman of his liking, and the fact that, that one day was coming very soon — it hurt. It hurt to lose your friend over some stupid thing like marriage. 

“But she’s a commoner. You know mother is strict about that stuff and…” he bit his pink lip, “I need you to buy me some time.” You raise a brow, and his hand finds yours. He looks at you, his eyes searching for confirmation. “You need me to buy you time? How?” you frown, your feelings conflicted. You wanted to help, this was some dire situation and if he got married to someone he didn’t love, then… it wasn’t worth it. 

At the same time, this proved to be very hard. His mother, though a fun one similar to yours, was stern when it came to relationships. Her trust was especially hard to earn. But she did grow affectionate towards you since you had been with Jungkook since you were little. 

“I want you to pretend to be my girlfriend and slow things down a bit.“ 

You look at the man in disbelief, motionless. Did you hear correct? Yes, maybe your mother teased you about being married to Jungkook for some while now, and maybe it did sound reasonable, but why of all people, did he want you? Multiple girls were dying to be his girlfriend already, should he not give them a chance? 

“But why me?” you finally ask, looking at him with mixed feelings. “You’re the only princess my family knows and trusts. It wouldn’t be weird if I was dating you at all.” You roll your eyes at the last statement. “Jungkook, it would be weird if I was dating you,” you correct him. “Well, to you, yeah, but I don’t consider it impossible,” he grins. You pull your hand away from his, punching his arm. 

“You’re dating someone already, you idiot!” you exclaim, frowning. He chuckles. “I’m not cheating on her. I already told her, and she’s not on the best terms with it, but she agrees,” he says. “So you can date me.” You huff at his arrogance, crossing your arms. “You know this is trouble, right?” you furrow your brows. “Yeah, and I’m up for it. So are you up for it?” you roll your eyes at his reply. 

 "I think you just want a chance at fucking me if I’m to be completely honest with you.“ 

“I like your honest side.“ 

“You’re in a relationship!“ 

“With you, yeah.“ 

“Oh my God…” you sigh. You wondered who would date such an idiot. Then again, he is really handsome. Maybe you should be grateful for the opportunity. 

——— 

You didn’t know when you agreed for it, but you just did and now you are dating Jeon Jungkook. You decided to tell your family about it that night at dinner, after discussing the details with Jungkook. Hyun-ae, who is his girlfriend as of currently, was a commoner he had met at an expensive club he had gone to.

She had garnered his interest and the two began dating in secret. They have been now dating for two years, though in private. Neither of them have shown any sign of getting the relationship to a different level, and they both need some time to relax and think of ways to finally bring the truth into the light without any prejudice taking place. 

That is where you come in. You will pretend to be Jungkook’s girlfriend so his mother can stop finding suitors and give him some air to breathe, simultaneously giving him time to think of a plan. You will need to slow down the process as much as you can, making excuses to make sure that the wedding day does not approach. Because in the end, it’s not you who is going to get married to Jungkook. It’s Hyun-ae.

Or that’s what he told you about the plan. 

It was wrong on many levels, and if you weren’t as dear to your families as you were, you both would receive great punishment for it — maybe even death. But it wasn’t going to go that far. It would be done in a few months at most. Or that’s what you told yourself, anyway. 

Taking a seat at the dinner table, you smiled at your mother and father, and then looked towards your cheeky older brother, Seokjin. You liked to call him Jin for short. He is likely going to go ecstatic over the fact that you were dating someone and you didn’t tell him, and going to go absolutely feral when he hears that it is actually Jungkook who you are “dating”. He was quite the overprotective brother. You turn to your father, taking a deep breath, you begin to speak. 

“I wanted to… talk about something important to me,” you try sounding like you are authentic, and you seem to be failing badly, but you keep on going, mustering up all the strength. You forget even eating your food for a while, instead, turning to look at your three family members one by one. 

 "I am dating someone… with whom I want to take my relationship to the next level.“ You were inexperienced and stupid for doing all of this. Multiple times you thought of backing out, but this was for Jungkook. You felt bad seeing how far you were going for him but he never even returned it. Or sometimes he did. But this was a big favor you were being asked. Your mother and father look at you with wide eyes, though Jin continues to eat, making sure to look up at you once in a while — making sure you know he’s listening too. 

“I’m very sorry I didn’t mention him before,” you look at all of them one by one, “but I am in a serious relationship,” it hurt to lie to everyone like this. What fool would fall for your dramatic acting? Who knew… but you certainly had all of their attention now. 

“Who is it…?” your mother asks very quietly, at least they weren’t objecting to it. You sigh heavily. 

“Jungkook.“ 

Their expressions were something you couldn’t analyse. They were thoroughly surprised, yes, and at the same time, another emotion you couldn’t quite grasp — approval? You couldn’t put your finger on it, but maybe that was it. Jin stops eating to look at you instead. 

”Jeon Jungkook? That one Jungkook you’re friends with?” you feel bad for playing like this, but what was done was done and you were doing this for Jungkook. “Which other Jungkook would I know?” you don’t know how exactly to react so you smile lightly at Jin, then look back towards your parents, who are still staring at you. “So… Jungkook recently told me that his mother is picking a girl for him…” you bite your bottom lip, “but she doesn’t know about us and—” you begin to speak, but your mother cuts you off. 

“I’ll talk with her.” And what you don’t expect is the smile that’s on her face. Did you really just fool them like that? They believed you so easily. Was it this easy to lie? It left you with chills. 

“In fact, you and your mother can leave for their kingdom in the morning. Make sure to tell Jungkook about it,” your father spoke up. Everything seemed to be going to plan. Jungkook did say he wanted you to visit the castle and that he’d tell his parents all of this too. So you supposed your job was done. But to think that you were fake-marrying your childhood friend, it all felt so wrong. 

“I will…” you respond quietly and continue to eat dinner as nothing had transpired. You felt so bad for doing all of this. Seeing the smiles on your parents’ faces, the laughter of Jin — they didn’t think it was weird at all for you to marry Jungkook. So he was right. Maybe people could see you and Jungkook together. Childhood sweethearts, mayhaps? You still didn’t know how. 

As soon as you finish dinner, you turn to leave to your room and tell Jungkook about everything. 

[Y/N]: I told everyone. We’re coming tomorrow. 

Your kingdoms were right next to each other. It was very easy to reach to his by car. Yes, it would take some hours but you considered travel fun. And you’d probably fall asleep in the car anyway. You thought about packing your things and decided to do that while you waited for Jungkook’s message. 

 You were done pretty quickly, you didn’t need to pack much. Some clothes here and there, and some other things you thought you’d need. You didn’t know how long you were staying there for, but if anything was needed, you know they could provide it for you at his place. You sank down on the bed and picked up your phone, which lit up while you were closing your bag. He was calling you. 

“What is it now?” you ask, a little annoyed as you put the phone to your ears. “Are you mad because you have to actually work now, pillow princess?” you could practically hear him grinning. It wasn’t very nice. “Be grateful. I’m helping you. No one could do this,” you roll your eyes. He chuckles lightly, changing the topic. “How did your parents believe it though? You’re such a bad actor,” he queried. “Well, I’m not as bad as you think. Somehow. I did make them believe it.“ 

“Jungkook, you know this is trouble. What if they find out…? What if we get into trouble?” you frown, but he doesn’t seem to think of it in that way. You aren’t surprised. “It’s fine! Lighten up, pillow princess.” You huff, feeling anxious about the situation. Your mother and father — even Jin. They would all be so disappointed in you. You helped Jungkook marry a commoner. 

“That’s because you get something good from this if it works out! You get to be with the love of your life while I get scarred forever,” you say hotly before your voice turns meek. You won’t be able to sleep tonight, thinking of all of this and freaking out over it. And Jungkook knows that fact too, knowing you well enough to pick up on it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that.” Of course, he didn’t. 

“Because you’re a self-obsessed bloke,” you reply dryly. He snickers a little, making you smile ever so lightly. “I guess I am. We’re in this together, Y/N. I never want you to be alone.” It was moments like these when you questioned why Jungkook made your heart skip a beat. Or why he even said things like these. Maybe he knew his words mattered a little more to you than you let on. Or perhaps he simply wanted to pull at your heart. 

“Yeah, right,” you say quietly, “tell that to me when you get married to Hyun-ae and I still don’t get a boyfriend,” you smile despite your words, wanting to relive these moments when you grew older. 

Time just passed so quickly. You never noticed when you became a teen, and then an adult, and now you’re supposed to get married soon — well, not really. You’re just faking it. But still, the actual day isn’t that far either. You’ll find someone soon enough. Or so you hoped. 

“Anyway… I better get my beauty sleep now,” you hear him laugh into the phone. “What’s so funny with that?” you frown. “It’s nothing. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Good night.” You smile. 

“Okay… Goodnight.“ 

“Yeah, goodnight.“ 

“Mhm, goodnight.“ 

“Goodnight.“ 

"God, just hang up already!” you exclaim, making him shout even louder. “You hang up!” that one hurt your ears badly. You groan. “Fine!” giving up, you end the call. Jungkook was the most annoying human being you had come across, but that didn’t mean you didn’t care for your friendship. 

He was just a tease and a knuckle-head sometimes. Though you appreciated him for exactly that — being stupid. After getting ready for bed, you try to calm down your nerves and prepare yourself mentally for pretending to be Jungkook’s girlfriend. The words tasted bitter on your tongue. 

It didn’t feel right to pretend like this, but you couldn’t do much than just following Jungkook and praying that everything will go well to a God you didn’t believe in. 

Closing your eyes, you began wishing for a better tomorrow.

———

You didn’t even notice how you got into the car next day to drive away to Jungkook’s, but you simply guessed you did, and the next thing you knew was that you were approaching the borders of the ruled land. It was beautiful, just as thriving and prosperous as the last time you had seen it. 

From the window of the limousine, you could see the merchants and traders, the millions of shops that lined the roads. Even the townspeople were friendly, you had known since they were always very sincere and understanding of Jungkook’s mistakes. 

The residential area was your favourite. You loved seeing their green gardens even though they were very small in comparison to the one you knew. The colourful roofs of the houses always brought a smile on your face. The rule was well-established under Jungkook’s parents, and you just hoped he could continue it. You had high hopes for him. 

The car steadily made its way to the castle, prior to stopping a little way before it. You got out of the car alongside your mother, slightly nervous. You had almost forgotten what you were here for. Some guards made sure of your identities before they escorted you to the door and took your luggage inside, while Jungkook, his younger brother, Junghyun and his parents were standing in the foyer. 

Your father hadn’t come, for he had some important businesses to take care of. You didn’t think ruling was easy, so he was justified. Jin stayed behind too, accompanying your father like the crown prince he is and learning the art of kingship. 

Meanwhile, you were agreeing to be fake-married to your childhood friend. You sigh, then help yourself to a plastered smile as you approach the family. You and your mother curtsy and you let your mother do the talking. You weren’t here to embarrass yourself, that’s for sure. You look towards Junghyun and Jungkook, who are both looking towards you. You give them a light smile, but your eyes just seem to be moving back to Jungkook. You do hope what you’re doing is right. 

“Ah, Y/N, why don’t you and the boys talk for a bit while we do too?” Jungkook’s mother addresses, making you nod furiously. You are guided inside by the two brothers while your mother and their parents walk towards the living room. It dawns over you that you’re supposed to act like a couple since Junghyun is here and even he doesn’t know of the truth, so your hand just finds Jungkook’s. 

Holding your hand, Jungkook leads you towards his bedroom gently. Junghyun follows alongside you, apparently just as fooled as his parents, talking of all the memories you three had made. He wasn’t wrong; certainly, you had spent your childhood with Jungkook and Junghyun. Junghyun wasn’t much younger than Jungkook, but a difference of some years still remained, though most went unnoticed, seeing as Jungkook was just so unexplainably youthful. 

“Or that one time when Jungkook stole your chocolate and you started crying?” Junghyun chuckles, but you need not be reminded of the moments you had cried. All for some chocolate and all because of a bratty Jeon Jungkook. You roll your eyes. 

“Please~! I don’t want to remember that. I cried for this jerk—” you catch yourself just in time before you say something else. Junghyun looks at you, a bit startled. But before you say something to justify yourself, he simply laughs again. 

“It’s good to see that you haven’t lost your fun relationship with him. You’ve just made it stronger.” You nod wearily at his words, smiling while your heart wrenches at seeing the world be fooled. “Tell me, how did you fall in love with my dimwit of a brother? He really is lucky to have you—" 

"That’s enough, isn’t it, Junghyun?” for the first time in a while, Jungkook spoke up in the conversation. “But I do want to know!” Junghyun frowns. 

You laugh at his adorable expression. When you were near a cute Junghyun, you doubted anyone could ever reject his request. You begin to speak, even though you held no particular feelings towards Jungkook himself in that way. “I’ll tell you,” you smile, “your brother,” you hold onto his hand a little tighter while you think. 

“Your brother is a softie. Even though he looks like the type of person to fight you if you wake him up when he doesn’t want to be.” Junghyun chuckles lightly at your words. “Is he? He’s never that way towards me,” you felt how Jungkook’s fingers intertwined with yours. Was it a signal to stop, or maybe keep going? Or did you really say something true? You didn’t pick up on that one. 

“He is,” you reply with a quick smile, before Jungkook stops in his tracks, making you stop too. “We’re here,” the male speaks and then turns around to Junghyun. “Your job is done. Thank you for accompanying Y/N. I’ll be taking her now,” the grin on Jungkook’s face did tug at your heart, you weren’t going to lie. Junghyun did protest like a little child, but he left soon enough. 

 By that time, you were sitting on Jungkook’s bed, waiting for Jungkook to close the door so you could talk to him about the whole situation. 

“You okay?” he asks, coming to sit down next to you after closing the door. “I’m fine. Just…” maybe it was for the fact that you were pretending to be Jungkook’s girlfriend. Maybe that’s why you flinched whenever he came close to you, maybe that’s why you felt so different being in his room, despite being here countless times before. 

“I’m just tired. There’s no good ending to this, Jungkook… I’m tired,” you look towards him, suddenly tears flood your eyes. You don’t know why you are suddenly on the verge of crying. Maybe it’s because you were pretending? 

“I see those happy expressions on my parents’ faces… they don’t fake it, Jungkook,” his expression softens at your words. A little part of you knew that your tears were Jungkook’s weakness. Whenever you didn’t feel good, he’d get incredibly worried. You didn’t cry as much in front of him anymore, but you hoped that he didn’t change. That he still cared for you, even if a little bit. That’s what you hated about growing up, you would have other people in your heart, and Jungkook would have others. You wouldn’t care as much for each other anymore. And that fact scared you. 

Seeing you act so small, Jungkook couldn’t believe his eyes. He puts your head against his chest, hugging you side-ways. He didn’t know you were so pressured by his request. It wasn’t something small and he wouldn’t trust anyone but you with it. He did care a lot for you. And he wanted you to know that, even if he acted like an imprudent, idiotic friend sometimes. He had asked a little too much of you and he was coming to understand that. But the damage had been done. 

How could he reverse the action? There was no way. You were stuck with him till he revealed the truth, and the mere thought of you crying hurt him. It was painful to see you cry, even for an over-confident, cold person like Jungkook. He had made you cry, just because he was too scared to tell his family the truth, and he was scared he might not be accepted for dating someone that wasn’t of a noble or royal family. 

 He would try to tell the truth very soon, he promised to you mentally. He would do anything, to tell the truth when the right time comes. He just hoped you were willing to wait for that long. 

“Shh,” he hushes, running his hand through your hair in gentle strokes. You smiled a little. At least you had someone. It was better than being alone. “I know that. I know and I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry for asking you something like this. Hyun-ae and I just weren’t ready. And what I did makes me look like a complete idiot, so I’m very sorry for being so inconsiderate towards you. I really… appreciate that you’re going this far for me." 

Your efforts, at least, were recognised. That is what made it all the better. The door was being knocked on. 

While you made sure your make-up was intact, Jungkook opens the door. It’s Junghyun’s voice from what you can hear. "Fine,” Jungkook says, closing the door and turning to you. You raise a brow, wondering what’s the problem now. “Mother wants us to talk to the media and announce our marriage. They agree with it." 

The way he spoke the words made your cheeks taint with pink. You weren’t expecting it to be so soon, but your families knew each other very well, so it was no surprise. You were really going to fool the world now. It was happening, and the nerves instantly came back from last night. 

Taking a deep breath as you fixed the last of your make-up and took a final look in the mirror after your breakdown, you turn towards Jungkook. 

"Okay. Let’s go.” 

By the time you were standing in front of the crowd of reporters and paparazzi, your nerves had taken complete control of you. 

Jungkook’s and your mother explained the situation to the media while you stood a little to the side, your hand in Jungkook’s. He said it would emphasise the relationship, but you weren’t very sure of that. You just wished he knew the risks. 

“When are you planning to hold the wedding?” one reporter asks, his voice ringed out the loudest. Sometimes, when they thought you weren’t looking, the paparazzi would take a picture of your intertwined hand with Jungkook. Everyone’s eyes turn expectantly at his mother at the question. 

“I’m scared,” you whisper to Jungkook, hoping he hears.

It wasn’t like voicing out your emotions rid you of the situation, but it did make you feel better when Jungkook squeezed your hand. “It’s okay… calm down.” Jungkook’s mother thought quietly for a moment. 

“The wedding date hasn’t been decided as of yet, but it will take place as soon as possible — it depends on the preparations. But I’d say very soon.” You didn’t know what very soon meant, but you doubt it was good for the plan. 

“Could we have a picture of the couple?”

Your cheeks turn pink at the word, flustering you. Maybe you’d never get used to this till it ends. 

You did find the idea of having a partner nice, but Jungkook as that partner? You had never thought about him that way. But then again, you guess it wasn’t that impossible to think of your relationship accelerating. The way he genuinely laughs, the smile on his dimpled face, the fact that he does care for you — it all ignited this small fire inside you. Maybe being his partner wasn’t that far off. 

Jungkook’s mother nodded to the question, and all the cameras had turned towards you and Jungkook before you knew it. “Are we going to pose or—?” you ask hastily, making him look to you with a light smile. For the first time, you hope that the smile meant something more than just a mask. 

Putting his arm around your waist, his lips catch yours unexpectedly. For the sake of the plan, you close your eyes and try not to act surprised, but you didn’t deny the fact that your heart was racing. His soft lips, and the way he smiles ever so sweetly while kissing you, it all starts to become so precious to you. You were wrong when you thought about who’d want to be his girlfriend — who wouldn’t want to be his girlfriend? 

The kiss, gentle and at the same time, passionate, lasted longer than you had expected it to. Probably because there were a lot of cameras and he wanted to make sure they all got a picture. You didn’t mind it at all though. Dare you say it, you loved it. It was like a little taste of something you had never tasted before. It left you wanting more, even if it was only a little bit you’d receive. But you were going to hold a grudge against him and yourself for this one. He had a girlfriend, already, for God’s sake. 

“Do tell us what it is you love about princess Y/N?" 

The question must have caught both of you out of the blue, because you turn to each other at the same time. Everyone turns to you two, and in the heat of the moment, Jungkook decides to speak up. "I love Y/N. We’ve had so many memories together. Spent our whole lives next to each other, basically,” you had been freaking out on the inside till he had started speaking. Thankfully, no one seemed to get that from the plastered smile on your face. 

“I love us. I love how she is so caring and helpful. She might be a bit annoying at times,” you elbow him, “but I love that side of her too. She’s the most precious to me.” You couldn’t help but take the words to heart. Now you desperately wanted to hear “I love Y/N” from his lips over and over again — but that would never happen. You were just getting your hopes up, and Jungkook was practically begging you to do that. 

“What do you think about the crown prince?" 

You start to fluster, trying to think of words. Why did they have to know all of this? You were going to make sure that on your real wedding announcement, these questions would be banned — why did it hurt when you labelled this relationship as fake? You were only taking this logically. The heart was naive. 

 "I think that Jungkook is great.” You try to come up with more, turning quiet. Jungkook’s hand finds yours again, intertwining once more. But why did it matter so much now? “He’s funny and energetic. He helps me loosen up. I…” you bite your lower lip, not able to say what you thought of. If you said “I love him,” would it stand out to him like it stood out to you? 

“He’s the… most amazing person and I couldn’t ask for anyone better." 

———

You slump down on the bed on your stomach as you reach Jungkook’s room after the horrible announcement, him following behind you. "You’re that tired, pillow princess?” you hear him say, and even if you can’t look at his face, you’re so sure he has that grin on his face like always. 

You groan, turning to lay on your back. “I’m not tired. Do you know how horrible it went?" 

"It went perfectly. Everyone thinks we’re dating. Now what you need to do,” he says as he leans down on the bed alongside you, “is to keep it going. Mother is really keen on having me take over the throne this year. Which, I suppose you know the rules, but you have to have a queen for that. Hence the rushed wedding. She says the engagement isn’t very important." 

"But it is—” you cut in, though Jungkook doesn’t acknowledge the sudden interruption. “I agree with her. Do you want us to be legally bound before the wedding? Did you forget the actual plan?” you sigh. He was right. In the end, it wasn’t you who was going to get married to him. It was Hyun-ae. 

“Right. You’re right. Why did you need this time anyway?” you ask, turning to Jungkook. You had totally forgotten about the kiss, but now remembering it, you couldn’t just pretend that it didn’t happen. 

You were going to ask him about that too. “Hyun-ae needs to talk with her family about everything. I have to, too. I don’t know how to approach them right now… you know?” he answers calmly. “I almost feel like I’m being used." 

Jungkook looks at you, then sighs. He pulls himself up to look over you. You feel a little exposed, but if this plan were to go smoothly, you had to be a good sport about it and help Jungkook. Even though he didn’t do anything back for you. If not for Jungkook himself, then for the bond you shared. It had to go this way. 

"I’m sorry again.” The simple apology made you feel a little sad. “Not that I mind being used,” you laugh, sitting up. You realise how weird it sounds and shrug a little. “I mean… it’s good to be of use, right…? Help your friends?” you smile lightly at him, making him shake his head. “You’re too nice for your own good,” he says quietly, making you giggle. “That’s the first time I’ve heard it from you. Glad to know my efforts actually matter!" 

"Your efforts do matter. Yes, maybe sometimes, I’m ignorant of the fact that you’ve saved my ass countless times, but I appreciate you. Please know that,” he smiles a little your way, making you smile back. Your thoughts wander back to the kiss, which still makes your heart race. Maybe it’s because you have never kissed Jungkook. Whatever the reason, your mind couldn’t wrap itself around the way his lips felt on yours.

A little part of you wanted to experience that feeling again, but that was wrong and you weren’t asking a taken man to kiss you. That was stupid, not to mention, awkward. 

“So the kiss… Jungkook,” you can see how he tenses up at you bringing up the topic. It worries you. “You have a girlfriend." 

"I know.” 

“But you still kissed me." 

"I know.” 

“Why?” you ask bleakly, looking at him and hoping to receive the same back, but he doesn’t turn towards you. The air just gets a little chilly. It makes you nervous. “I had to make them believe us. Hyun-ae will understand. I know you hated it. I’m very sorry for that too,” you shake your head at his words. Choosing to ignore that he said you hated the kiss, you sigh. 

“It’s fine. But you should check up with Hyun-ae. She’d feel very bad if you didn’t approach her about this." 

You’d feel bad if you saw in the news that your boyfriend had kissed someone else and they were going to get married soon — even though it was fake and you knew. You’d still want your boyfriend to tell you about it, reassure the fact he still loved you. Hyun-ae was the victim in this situation, not you — having seen her boyfriend kissing someone she didn’t know all over the place, hearing it from everyone in town, yet still being able to do nothing about it, because she was not in the position to. You felt bad for her. 

"You’re right… I’ll call her,” Jungkook gets up, taking his phone and leaving the room. 

It felt a little empty without him, especially as it was his room. You had been here multiple times, but maybe it was his presence you wanted most. You shake your head. If you pretend to fall for Jungkook, maybe it will happen. And you didn’t want to fall for someone you couldn’t have. 

Someone, who is so dear to you. It would just put both of you in trouble. And you wanted him to be married to someone he loved — that someone wasn’t you and you had to accept it. 

——— 

Before you knew it, it was dinner time. 

Jungkook had talked with Hyun-ae, and initially, she had been a little angry, but thankful that Jungkook had talked it out with her, so things were settled soon enough. Or that’s what you were told, anyway. 

 You sat down at the royal table to eat. It was a little larger than yours back at home, but nonetheless, the food looked delicious and you couldn’t wait to dig in. Midway through the dinner, Jungkook’s father spoke up. 

“I believe that it would be good if you two spent more time looking around the kingdom together. Jungkook could show you the famous sites,” his father turns to you, and you give him a slight nod with a smile. Wonderful — more time to spend with the annoying Jeon Jungkook. You turn towards the said boy, who seems to be eating his dinner quietly. Very unlike himself. 

“That works… and about the rooms,” you say, starting to play with your food out of nervousness. “Where will I sleep?” you ask quietly, though everyone seems to hear it loud and clear. Jungkook turns to you instantly, and you could see the worry in his eyes. Worry for what, you did not know. “Room? Won’t you sleep in Jungkook’s room?” his mother speaks, making you bite your tongue. You shouldn’t have said that. But you didn’t want to share the room with Jungkook. That would be awkward. 

“I was thinking of that, I just—” you bite your bottom lip, then shake your head. There was no explaining it. If you didn’t shut up now then everyone would catch on. “It’s fine, I’ll share the room with Jungkook,” and you supposed the bed, but you hoped it wouldn’t be the case. “Anywho, when are we going to visit the sites?” you change the topic abruptly, mustering a smile. 

You did not dare to look at Jungkook. 

After dinner, you opted to spend time in Jungkook’s room. Clearing your head, you stood at the balcony near the railing. Jungkook’s father had decided that you’d be going to visit the famous sites tomorrow. It was certainly going to be interesting, seeing as Jungkook showed no liking to things like that. He’d probably take you to a fun ride instead. Or so you hoped, because you had no interest in seeing famous sites and learning their names either. 

 Sometimes you and Jungkook were two peas in a pod, and sometimes he felt like your polar opposite. 

Everything was so hard to digest. Why were you agreeing to his plans, you didn’t even know the full tale. In the end, you knew it would give nothing but pain. So why did you agree? 

You thought it was because you were trying to be a good friend. You had known Jungkook for so long. You appreciated whatever you had with him, and you supposed that was why. You wanted him to marry his love. And at the same time, losing him to Hyun-ae felt like hell. 

Ultimately, that was his happiness. So you wanted him to marry the love of his life. The thought brought a smile to your face. But still, your heart wrenched. It was melancholic — you loved the thought of it, but you couldn’t see him getting married. Because that meant you were growing up. You wouldn’t be around each other anymore. Responsibilities would be burdening you. And in the end, the ties would be cut. 

Well, not cut. They’d fade away. Time took everything from you. From everyone. But especially from you. You didn’t want to lose your friend to something as idiotic as marriage. You were surprised initially that he was even settling down — Jeon Jungkook was settling down for someone. Out of all the things you expected, that wasn’t one of them. He must really love her. 

You wished you could experience that kind of feeling. Unconditional, pure love for someone. Wanting to be with them so bad. But whenever you thought about that, you’d just feel lost. There was no one you felt something like that for. 

 "What are you thinking of?“ Jungkook’s voice rings in your ear, making your thoughts disappear. "Just the… whole thing. About you marrying Hyun-ae,” you wonder if it came out wrong. If Jungkook would be mad at you for putting it that way. If he was offended. But he wasn’t. Instead, he approached you quietly, now standing alongside you. 

“What do you mean?” you sigh at his question. “I meant… This is stupid,” you groan, unable to put your thoughts into words. “What I mean is… I don’t want to lose my friend. I am scared that… when you’ll get married… you’ll leave me. And seeing how things are going, I don’t think our kingdoms will be friends for much longer. We’re fooling everyone, Jungkook. They believe our lies,” you turn to him. It wasn’t a frown that you had on your face, it was fear for the future. 

It was like a river was rushing through your head and heart. A bunch of emotions colliding with each other, washing away your comfort and peace. You were beyond scared. You had always imagined spending the rest of your life with Jungkook — but that was always as friends. Now, you weren’t sure what you were anymore. 

“Imagine the chaos and betrayal. Everyone will lose their trust in us. They will make fun of you. Fun of me. Fun of our families. And you’re doing this just because… what? You want a common girl?” the sentence came out harsher than you wanted it to be. Jungkook turns his head to you. You could feel poison seeping out of his eyes for a moment. It hurt you more than it should’ve. 

“Don’t speak of Hyun-ae like that.” You sigh, nodding sarcastically. “Right. And you tell me who should I speak of like that? You or Hyun-ae? You’re both behind this! You’re ruining everything. You’re ruining your life, you’re ruining your future rule, and you’re ruining my life too!” you exclaim. “Keep it down or they’ll hear us,” Jungkook mutters. 

“I’m a victim in this situation!” you speak even louder. “I’m scared for my life! I deserve to speak as much as I want. However loud I want. Do you know what you’ve put me through?! What I have to do?! All this pretending, these lies,” you stop to catch your breath, hands trembling. “It’s not going to end good, Jungkook. It’s not going to end well. Your plans are bound to fail, like always.” You were initially surprised that you spoke this far without getting interrupted. Jungkook didn’t speak up. 

“You’ve ruined me. For once, at least once… be my saviour like I’ve been yours.” 

You didn’t speak to each other that night after that. 

He was your ride or die. He had never put anyone above you. But now it was clear. It was clear that he didn’t care for your life anymore — he had Hyun-ae now. He had her love and he didn’t mind whatever happened to your friendship. With those thoughts, you cried yourself to sleep that night on the bed. 

———

It was day one of sight-seeing. Or more like, site-seeing. Jungkook had made himself comfortable on the floor last night. You woke up to find him laying on the ground, sound asleep. At first, you were shocked, but remembering the events of last night, the sorrow and tension just returned to you. 

You shook him awake, and he retorted at first like he always did, but in the end, he did get up. 

He was now going through his closet, trying to pick an outfit. It reminded you of how you still hadn’t unpacked. Your luggage had been put in Jungkook’s room and looking over your shoulder, you could see the two bags you had packed. They were small and cute, pink in colour. They stood out in the room, which was mostly of golden and brown hues. 

The truth was that you were afraid of talking to Jungkook. Seeing as he didn’t care enough to initiate the conversation, it made you nervous. Had he really taken all of those things to heart? More importantly, you were asking yourself if you really did mean everything you had said. 

Were you mad at him or was it the frustration of pretending to be something, someone you’re not? 

Mentally telling yourself ‘screw it,’ you turn to Jungkook and clear your throat to gain his attention. He doesn’t stop looking for clothes through his wardrobe, but you saw him flinch ever so slightly when you did make a sound. You were going to say sorry. But was it really your fault? 

You wondered why you were even saying sorry when it wasn’t even your fault. If anything, it was Jungkook’s. And Hyun-ae’s, someone that you hadn’t even met yet, but still she was ruining your life. You dismissed yourself again. You had to be a good friend. 

“…I’m sorry about last night…” you begin speaking, making him stop in his actions. His face was hidden behind his arm, so you couldn’t see his expression. You were feeling really sick now. “I’m sorry about whatever I said,” even though it was all correct, “it was very inconsiderate of me,” it was very inconsiderate of him to ask you to do all this, “and I’m really at fault. I mean it.” You didn’t mean it. 

He turns to you with a sigh, then sits down next to you on the bed. “It's… it’s fine. I know you wouldn’t mean those types of things, I just…” he bites his lower lip, clearly confused about his own emotions. “You just got defensive?” you ask bitterly, making him frantically shake his head. He stayed quiet for a moment. “Maybe you’re right — yeah — I guess…” he gives in, nodding lightly. 

You click your tongue, “you know fights aren’t worth it. Let’s just… forget it, ‘kay? That never happened, okay?” you smile at him, he looks at you with uncertainty before he gives you a bright smile back. Bright just like himself. That’s one thing you loved about your friendship: you made up quickly. You loved that smile. You loved his laugh, the genuine one. 

He was sarcastic and stupid, he did things that were, otherwise, outright reckless, but you loved that too. It was what made him… well, him. 

That day was spent around the popular sites of the kingdom — he showed you a clocktower that was made by his great-grandfather. It reminded you of Big Ben, which was in England. 

Next, you were shown the royal museum that held the edicts and some artefacts, which were used by the royal family. Some were swords used in ancient wars, some were cups of gold used by the previous kings, and the proclamations of some rulers were inscribed on scrolls.

You were shown around a lot of historical monuments too. It was quite boring, to be honest, and Jungkook’s father had one of the noblemen show you and tell you everything, so you couldn’t even do something fun. At least Jungkook’s snarky comments saved the day. 

——— 

Day two had been switched up by Jungkook. He had told his father that ‘enough was enough’ and he ‘wanted to do something more fun’. So you guessed that’s how you got to the amusement park you were at now. 

It was the largest one in his kingdom, no doubt quite expensive, with the rides you had seen. It was nicely decorated, with banners and streamers. Almost like a birthday party. But maybe the sight would’ve been more colourful if the paparazzi hadn’t swarmed you, shoving the cameras in your faces. 

You held Jungkook’s hand tightly as you ventured through the crowd. You never knew Jungkook was good at archery. But apparently, he was. It was a little minigame and if you could hit all the points on the several boards, you could choose what prize you wanted — they were all plushies. 

When he did hit all the points, he offered you to choose the prize for yourself. You knew exactly what you wanted. The cute pink bunny, which in the end, was named Cooky by Jungkook. Ironic. 

You went on a rollercoaster next. It would be an understatement to say you were screaming all the way. Jungkook was surprised that your voice could even reach that high. “Only if you put me on a rollercoaster or put a cockroach on me,” you had replied, making him laugh as he dragged you to the next ride. 

 But you wished you had known that one ride could make you scream like no other. 

It was a ship. A ship dangling in the air. Now you were told that it would swing forward and backward in the air, but that didn’t explain the horror enough. 

“Jungkook, for the love of God, I swear I’ll give you all the banana milk you want, please don’t let me go, please don’t let me go, I’m gonna die—!” maybe you had forgotten to mention that those kinds of rides made you sick. Any time the ship swung forward was the mania. You felt like it would throw you out of it. You were clinging to Jungkook for your dear life, with him holding Cooky alongside you. 

You felt like you’d die. Any time it swung backwards, you’d get the time to breathe and calm down, then prepare yourself for the next forward swing, but of course, you could never be prepared enough. In the end, you’d always scream your lungs out. Thankfully, Jungkook held onto you securely the whole time. 

 "It’s okay, it’s okay!” you heard his laugh follow. Your arms were around his thin waist, making sure you wouldn’t fall off. You felt like you were flying but it was worse. You were just praying you wouldn’t fall out and die. 

At least Jungkook managed to whisper affirmative words, and you were able to catch a few in the loud wind. “It’ll be fine, I’m with you, it’s okay… I’m with you,” he kept on repeating. You were glad when the ride was over, and you had to be supported by a laughing Jungkook as you were quite dizzy after all that. 

Your brain was buzzing and you couldn’t even see properly. In fact, you were shaking in your boots. That was the worst time of your life. And you never wanted to experience it again. 

 To calm things down a bit, Jungkook decided to go on the Ferris wheel next. Cooky was given to you and you hugged it the whole way to the ride. Getting into your cabin, you were finally able to take a breath of relief and organise your thoughts. Your hair was a bit of a mess, so you fixed that as best as you could. You still hugged Cooky tightly though. You were scared. 

 "The sunset’s pretty,“ you couldn’t believe the day had gone so fast as you spoke. Sunsets were always pretty romantic, so mentioning that just made you nervous. Jungkook smiled softly, nodding to your words. Seeing that smile on his face, it just made you feel all giddy. 

At some point during the ride, the question turned from ‘why could everyone see you as a real couple’ to ‘who wouldn’t call you two a couple?‘ 

 You were falling deeper and deeper into the abyss that was Jungkook. Yes, he was foolish and he made decisions even if he knew that they would result in bad things happening. He wasn’t the smartest, but his smile was adorable. His laugh was adorable. The way he held you was something you had started to like a lot more. You really did love everything he did — so were you in love? 

No, of course not… or you thought. He had a girlfriend and it was stupid to be in love with a taken man. But he did ask you to act like his soon-to-be wife, so you were just going to use that to your advantage. Maybe you couldn’t be with him, but the moments you two had were precious to you. 

And if you could have more of those, then you were satisfied. Love hurt and it didn’t always work out. And that was fine, so you wouldn’t try to make him fall for you. 

You were sure that if he was meant to do that, then it could’ve been done a lot more sooner — before Hyun-ae had come into the picture. 

"I really like it too.” His reply made you lose your train of thought. You smiled at him as he stared in the distance, looking a lot calmer than usual. Maybe the possibility of falling in love with your childhood friend wasn’t that low. 

The kiss came back to you, memories of his soft lips flooding your mind. Heat rose to your cheeks, so you opted to conceal your blushing face by hiding it behind the giant pink bunny that was Cooky. 

Maybe you wouldn’t mind falling for Jeon Jungkook. 

———

Each and every day, you felt like you were falling more and more for his beautiful smile. His oblivious laugh. His sparkling eyes. He may have been intimidating, but he was the softest person you knew. He was caring and gentle.

He was protective of those he cared for. Just like you. Just like Hyun-ae.

At one point, you had told yourself to stop falling for him. Like it was even possible. But still, you distanced yourself from him. Or you had tried to. You had told yourself that he was taken, it was stupid to fall for him, you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t bear being hurt. But the heart never listened to anyone. You just felt yourself wanting more and more from him.

You had always thought that your ‘soulmate’ must be out there somewhere, just waiting for you to come along. But now that you were falling deeper into the spiral, it eventually changed to ‘my soulmate lives in the kingdom next to mine and we’re ‘best friends’.’

But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. It hurt. It hurt so much. It killed you inside when you realised you couldn’t be with him. It absolutely devastated you. You hated it. But at the same time, you were happy. Wasn’t that love? Being happy because your loved one is. Smiling because he smiled. Laughing because he laughed. Living because he did. That was certainly how you felt.

"Tonight, we’re going out,” Jungkook says one unexpected night. You look at him with furrowed brows, confused. You had been continuing the site-seeing but you hadn’t been out at night. “Why? Where?” you blurt out, caught off-guard by the sudden exclamation.

Jungkook shifts closer to you hastily. “We’re alone, Guk. Seriously. No one is going to overhear you. We’re in your room,” you roll your eyes, but you don’t forget that your heart is racing because of how close he is to you. “We’re going to the club tonight.”

The seductive whisper wasn’t even the thing that sent chills down your spine. It was the fact that you were going to the club. And if you didn’t know better, you would’ve asked which club, but you knew it was the one Hyun-ae worked at. You felt a little unready for the whole occasion, to be honest.

“I— but what about your parents? What will we tell them?” you ask nervously, making Jungkook chuckle. Who were you kidding, he had probably taken care of that. He was just the best when it came to the worst things.

“Junghyun will take care of it. I told him to make up an excuse. He doesn’t know which club we’re going at anyway. Neither does he know about Hyun-ae,” you couldn’t ignore how sweetly he pronounced her name. Like she was something so precious, just an absolute treasure to him. You wished he called you like that.

“Okay.”

So that’s how you got to the club. It was jammed with people. You guessed that common clubs would be even more jammed. You saw people of high status dancing to the beat of the music on the dance floor, some had their lips on others’, some were downing glasses by the second. The overall situation was just sensual.

“This way,” with your hand in Jungkook’s, you were led to the bar where Hyun-ae worked at.

“Jungkook!” she was beautiful. In the dim lighting, you couldn’t see her especially well, but she was drop-dead gorgeous from what you did see. If you weren’t aware of her social status, you may have thought she was a princess working at a bar or something. Her voice was soft but clear, it was like music to your ears.

You were taken to a more secluded corner of the club, where Jungkook’s hand left yours. You felt yourself missing the touch instantly. He stood next to Hyun-ae now. Of course, she was his main priority. You were guessing the night was going to be a long one.

“So you’re Y/N?” you nod to her words, before realising that she probably couldn’t see that well either and decide to speak up. “Yeah,” you say. A little piece of your heart was on fire right now. It was hurting so much. This was the girl he was going to marry. After everything, she was the end goal. You bite your lip in an effort not to break down. You kept telling yourself you were happy for him.

But you weren’t. You were hurt. You wanted him to always be there like he had. You were being selfish and you hoped he’d forgive you for it. “It’s great to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from Jungkook,” Hyun-ae giggled afterwards. “Thank you for being a good friend to Jungkook,” you could see her outline move closer to Jungkook’s. She wrapped her arm around Jungkook’s affectionately. You nodded slowly, then sighed.

You wanted to cry. Why did you agree? Jungkook’s adorable laugh as Hyun-ae put her arm around his — it was contagious. That was how you knew it was real. “I-It’s nothing, really. I appreciate Jungkook as a friend too…” you say quietly. Even your words were like a dagger to your heart. Your poor heart suffered too much.

You excused yourself as they started to say their ‘I love you’s. You didn’t want to hear it. You didn’t want to suffer more than you already had. Trying to hold back your tears, you blamed yourself for falling too hard, too deep. Your heart was pounding against your chest. You just wanted to hold him. You just wanted him but even that seemed too much to ask for.

You can barely stand up yourself, so you take support from the counter of the bar. “Some long island iced tea, please,” you mutter to the person at the counter, who prepares you the glass and you gulp it down within a matter of seconds, hoping it would ease the tightness of your chest. You knew you were going to get badly drunk, but it didn’t matter anymore. As long as you didn’t have to be sad today. It certainly did help.

You felt better. The liquor was washing away your sorrows. Your mind felt a little fuzzier. You order one more glass. Just one more couldn’t hurt. You drink that one down too, but this time leisurely, feeling a lot more free and careless.

The surroundings were becoming more blurry by the second. You felt light-weighed. Your tipsy self walked over to the familiar corner of the club, where you saw Jungkook and Hyun-ae on their own. Tugging on your friend’s jacket, you try to balance yourself with his support. “Y/N? Are you already drunk?” he asks, but his voice seems so distant that you just want to be lulled to dreamland at this point.

“No, of course… I'm… not drunk… not… yet?” you say, more as a question than a definite answer. Jungkook sighs. Well, this was bound to happen. He knew you didn’t handle alcohol very well, but how bad exactly, he wasn’t sure.“What did you have? Are you okay? Should I take you home?” you nod slowly to his words, but your brain didn’t register anything. “Two… iced teas… the long island ones…” you take the moment to appreciate the way Jungkook’s hands kept you up. You’d slide down to the ground if it wasn’t for him. 

"Seriously?“ he muttered something to Hyun-ae afterwards, but you didn’t catch it. "Let’s go… and sleep, I’m really tired…” you hadn’t even been there for half an hour. Yet still, you couldn’t keep yourself up anymore. "And let’s sleep on the same bed… okay? Don't… sleep on the floor this time… I’m worried you might catch a cold…” 

“I get it, let’s go,” Jungkook’s frustration was clear. But your drunk self didn’t seem to mind it all. He said some more things to Hyun-ae, whose distorted expression was something between concern and jealousy. Or so you hoped it was jealously, because you hated her. You absolutely loathed her. Everything about her. 

You were finally taken back to the castle unnoticed. 

“Why do we lie, Y/N?” Jungkook asks, you’re almost asleep but his question wakes you up. As he had said, he was going to sleep with you tonight. Every other night, you kept on switching between who’d take the floor and who’d take the bed. He was the one who mostly took the floor, but this night, things were different. 

“I don’t know… why are you asking me… I don’t lie…” you mumble through your sleep, eyes shut gently. “Everyone lies,” hearing Jungkook’s statement, you snicker. “I don’t, suck it up…” you reply. “Right. So you don’t. But why do others lie?” he repeats. 

“Because… hmm… depends…” you shift a little in the warm bed, blanket over your body. Jungkook was sitting on the bed, his back supported by the pillow as he didn’t feel the need to sleep just yet. His phone was in front of him. You wanted him to play you some melodies but that was probably too much. Enough destruction had been done today. 

“Sometimes we lie… because… we want to make others happy…” you pause, drifting more into sleep. “And other times?” Jungkook beckons you to continue. “Well… other times… we lie because… we don’t want to get into… trouble.“ 

"Oh,” Jungkook blurts out, making you reach out absent-mindedly, and punch his arm. Or it felt like his arm anyway. “Like you do. But there’s one other time we lie…” Jungkook’s eyes were on you. You could feel them. “When we… want something from someone else. When we are using them." 

"Now play me some music, please… some soft… sweet music." 

"I’ll sing for you." 

"Yes please…" 

"And you bless me with the best gift, that I’ve ever known, you give me purpose.” 

——— 

Lately, things had been very hard. Jungkook’s mother wasn’t joking when she had said that the wedding would be held as soon as possible. You were hogged with what to wear, make-up, hairstyles, and everything. 

You told her to take it slow as Jungkook had advised you to do, but she was very keen, just like you had thought. Side by side, your mother was in favour of everything too. 

To calm things down a bit, you told your mother and his mother that you and Jungkook would be going sightseeing again. It was the only way you could get out and breathe some fresh air. Most girls would be excited for their wedding day, but you wanted to postpone it as much as possible — well, it wasn’t yours, to begin with. 

The crowd was really bad this time. You were visiting the statue that Jungkook’s grandfather had apparently built. It was a man, young from what you could see, made of some sort of metal, maybe bronze or gold, but you weren’t sure. He held up a sword in the air, which reminded you almost of winning a war and doing your victory pose. Or maybe you had been playing a lot of Overwatch with Jungkook. 

News of your wedding was all around the kingdom now, you guessed it was like that in yours too. 

Jungkook’s hand was holding yours. But perhaps not as strongly. Everyone kept asking questions and screaming names, you may have heard some death threats too. Possibly fangirls of the prince, you guessed. The crowd’s force was so strong, even the few guards you had brought weren’t strong enough to hold them back. Should’ve brought more guards, the same thought recurred. 

Your hand left Jungkook’s in the midst of all the shouts and screams, and pushing and pulling. You were drawn back in the crowd, with no one noticing that you were outside the swarm now. 

Frantically, you ran around the circle of people, trying to get in but everyone was so used to forcing their way through, you couldn’t even get back to your friend. The word tasted bitter on your lips. You sigh, hastily running to another side before your eyes settle at the cafè that’s beside the other shops in the area. 

Hyun-ae. You could recognise her in the bright daylight. She was there with someone. A man, a man whose face was half-covered by the mask that he was wearing over his mouth. One you didn’t know. 

You step closer to the window, where their seats were at. Maybe you could hear them? Who was he? You didn’t want to jump to wrong conclusions, they could be siblings or cousins… or maybe even friends, who knows? But the sick feeling that you get at the pit of your stomach tells you something else entirely. 

Your breath is basically non-existent as you step closer, and the two don’t notice you. You stand next to the glass window, your back supported by the wall. You hope no one is recording you. You hope you don’t turn up in the newspapers, accused of eavesdropping. But you have to do this for yourself. For yourself and Jungkook. Besides, the reporters were a little too biased towards Jungkook and what he did rather than your doings. 

“I asked him for some more time,” her voice was just the same you had remembered it. It was still beautiful, and while you had only met her once, it was short, and days have passed since then, you could still recognise it. The only difference was that now it was infusing with your blood like poison. You hated her voice, her being. 

Your stomach started to churn and do back-flips. Your insides were burning. You felt almost bad for Jungkook. Was she the only one who needed time? Was that why you were dragged into this? 

“I don’t want to marry him. But I need to become queen,” you hear her whine. “Ah, Jagiya~ it’s okay,” the male’s voice was indistinguishable. You didn’t know who he was. “But I want to marry you! But you’re just not… enough. You’re not as rich. You’re not a prince,” she frowned. 

What was more stupid was that she was right near where Jungkook was. Did she expect him to show up and break up with her? How’d she ever become queen then? You wondered what her motive was. 

“Plus, I hate that friend of his. He’s always talking of her and she seems to be the type of person who talks all about him too.” That wasn’t a surprise. While it did make your heart flutter when you heard that he was talking of you to his girlfriend, that wasn’t what mattered right now. What mattered was that Jungkook was dating a cheater and it was stupid of him to waste his energy on someone like her. 

Tired and obviously angry, you give Jungkook a message to meet you at the car. Your anger was beyond measure. Feeling like you heard something you should not have, you didn’t know how to feel. You were scared, most of all. You finally find the car and get inside, tapping your foot with irritation. 

The car door opens and Jungkook sits inside. The driver starts up the car and you’re taken back to the castle. 

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks you when you get to his room. You avoided all of his questions in the car. You didn’t want to speak of the matter in front of the driver. 

"Hyun-ae is cheating on you,“ you say, and while you aren’t even the one in the relationship, your eyes flood with tears. You’re worried about Jungkook. You love him. You love him and you don’t want him to be heartbroken. 

"What?” he blurts out, turning to you with surprise. You lock your tear-filled eyes with his blank ones. “Hyun-ae is cheating on you. I saw her. I saw her, she was with another man… she’s…” you bite your lip, looking away. You felt pity above all. Pity for Jungkook. 

And here you thought you were the victim. That you were being used. But it was all along Jungkook, controlled like a puppet, the strings in Hyun-ae’s hands. 

“…she's… u-using you.” Jungkook stays still at the words. He didn’t want to speak. His heart fell. “You must have seen someone else,” he replies, plastering a smile. “There’s a lot of people who look like Hyun-ae." 

"But she sounded like her too." 

"She couldn’t be. She loves me,” you walk closer to Jungkook, shaking your head. How badly you wanted to scream that she didn’t love him like he thought. “How do I tell you…? I should’ve recorded it… I should’ve taken pictures… I know… but… I was too shocked… I’m so sorry,” you look deep in his eyes. For once, you don’t see twinkling stars. You see darkness — emptiness — and that spoke a ton about how he felt. 

“T-Tell me you’re lying. Hyun-ae… she couldn’t do that.” You sigh heavily, and it still isn’t enough to let out the frustration you feel. “I’m not lying. She’s cheating on you. I swear I’m not lying,” you say meekly. “I wouldn’t ever lie to you." 

"But you did.” 

You stare at him, eyes wide. “What do you mean?” you ask, brows furrowing.  "You meant everything you said that night. You said it was stupid of me to marry a commoner. I thought you were my friend…?“ your eyes widen more. 

You shake your head in denial, but your voice doesn’t come out. "Friends support friends." 

"I am supporting you! I’ve always supported you. You’re just blind in love,” you bite your lip, afraid you’d start crying. Jungkook turns quiet. “You can believe whatever you want to. Just know that I told you the truth. It’s Hyun-ae who—" 

"Don’t speak in that way about Hyun-ae!” the loud shout shook you. You take a deep, uneven breath, sniffing. “You picked Hyun-ae over me again. Even if I’m not lying,” you wipe the tears in your eyes. “This was what I was afraid of.” Your heart hurt. It hurt like it never had. You felt like your breath was being taken away, like you were suffocating. 

"I don’t want to do this anymore. It’s a lost cause.”

———

It had been days since then. Jungkook and you had separate rooms now. You had requested that of Jungkook’s mother and she agreed. Everyone could sense that something was wrong, because you both kept shut in your individual rooms. Though no one would mention it. There was no sightseeing, no communication between you and Jungkook.

You’d go to give him food but he’d never open the door. In the end, it was left at his doorstep.

"Y/N, darling, we should go shopping for your dress, no? The wedding is real close,” and did you forget to mention that the wedding was coming really fast now? Unlike yourself, Jungkook was in his room all day. He didn’t get out of it for a single moment. You sometimes got up to go out because your mother told you so.

“Sure…” the wedding was supposed to held in a wedding hall, and you had decided upon going for a more western style. A white dress, made to perfectly suit you. It all felt a little useless now. You weren’t even going to be married to Jungkook anymore. There was no point, but the others didn’t know.

Jungkook didn’t know.

As your mother would show you pretty dresses and awe over them as they fit your wedding theme, you’d think of what Jungkook would be doing. Was he crying? Was he sad? Or was he happy? Was he playing Overwatch, or maybe he was talking to Hyun-ae. Maybe that last thought wasn’t as soothing as the rest. At least every time you gave him food, he’d take it inside. Hopefully, he was eating well. He’d never open the door to anyone though, not while they were standing there.

You sigh, pick any dress that comes to mind and show it to your mother. Your mind just kept zooming back to Jungkook. He hadn’t taken his attire yet, had he? A little part of you felt disgusted because while he was heartbroken, or so you thought anyway, you were picking out a dress for the wedding. And while you did love him, you just wished you could fix everything.

Maybe in another universe, in another world, some other time, you could be with him.

Getting back to the castle, you took the food tray you were offered from the kitchen and took it to Jungkook’s room. This was every day’s routine.

You knock on the door, taking a deep breath. You know he won’t open it, but a little part of you still thinks he considers it. He probably hates you though, no matter how much you deny the thought. “Jungkook… I brought food,” you say quietly, hoping he’d be able to hear it from the other side. Your heart was begging to just see his face again. He felt like a distant memory.

“Jungkook,” you knock the door again, but then stop, giving up. Putting down the tray, you hope he’ll take the food you left and leave.

You needed this to stop. You wanted him to hear from you again. You wanted to see his pretty face again. You wanted to hear his sweet voice again. Taking out your phone, you quietly muttered ‘screw it’ and texted Junghyun to tell him to meet up with you. You decided upon going to a cafè — not the same one as Hyun-ae’s, though. Just a random one that Junghyun recommended. You knew it wasn’t the same one as you entered. You didn’t want to confess in the castle. You were afraid someone would overhear. Plus it felt a little too confined. You wanted to get out and try to be a little happy for once. The castle felt like a jail of lies at this point.

“I want to tell you something…” you couldn’t believe you were doing it. “What?” you knew you could trust Junghyun. But to what extent? You were scared he might tell his parents, and then the news would quickly spread, but you had to do it. You knew you didn’t have Jungkook’s permission. But you weren’t going to back down now. For one, you didn’t need his assistance. You knew the truth. And secondly, it was far too late to turn back now.

“Promise me you won’t freak out,” you look at him with furrowed brows, and he nods slowly. “Okay… but… what are you—?”

“Is that princess Y/N?” you freeze. The news reporters. You could hear them approaching you. And for once, you felt frustrated. Why this place, of all of them? You get up, taking Junghyun’s hand, you get out of the cafè, where the swarm of reporters is already gathering. “Why are you holding prince Junghyun’s hand?” one asks. You take a deep breath. “I—”

“Are you cheating> on prince Jungkook?” your eyes flood with tears. You wanted to scream, you wanted to tell them the truth. But you were the antagonist. You always had been. You were set to be the jealous person that fell in love. You were never the princess you truly were in real life. You could never even think of cheating on Jungkook. But with the way you held Junghyun’s hand, it was clear to the crowd.

“Can you explain your relationship with prince Junghyun?” another asks. “Are you cheating on prince Jungkook with prince Junghyun?” one more question came. You were deaf to all of them. You wished you were. You wished you were deaf to the accusations. You bite your lip in an effort to not break down, tearing at the seams. You were tearing at the seams.

Grasping Junghyun’s hand even tighter, you walk away from the crowd, pushing and making your way back to the sanctuary you once had.

———

“They blame me, Jungkook…” your lip was quivering as you spoke to the door. It was late at night. No one was roaming the corridors at this time, and it was dark. But you hoped, you hoped that Jungkook was hearing you. “I never cheated on you… I swear…” you break down. “I wish you could open the door. I hope you can hear me… but I never cheated on you…” you felt like you were going crazy.

You were desperate to shout out the truth. You were done living a lie. Living as a lie. “Please… Jungkook… we were in this together… you told me that I was never alone…” but you were alone. Alone and so much more. The cheating accusations had spread like a wildfire. But you weren’t cheating. You were telling the truth. You were trying to tell Junghyun the truth so he could help you. He was like a younger brother to you.

“Please open the door…” you sniff, breaking down more. Tears wouldn’t stop falling down your cheeks. “Everyone’s really worried for you too… I wish we could escape this. I wish we really could. I hope you’re okay…” you sob. You had a headache from crying. “I really hope you’re okay…” you bite your quivering bottom lip, “I care for you a lot. A lot. I really do.

"I love us too, Jungkook. But you’re making it hard for me to hang on.”

———

The castle was sombre. It had been like this for a while now. The royal families were trying to handle the situation, but the media had everyone fooled. Jungkook still hadn’t come out of his room, he’d never even take the food anymore. Junghyun had taken refuge in his room, he sometimes would come out. But whenever his eyes met yours, you could see the uncertainty they held.

You had given up on trying to tell anyone about the truth. You couldn’t do it without Jungkook. You wanted to die. You weren’t even living anymore. Just hanging between life and death. The food tasted stale because Jungkook wasn’t there. The room looked darker because Jungkook wasn’t there. Your heart always fell when you saw that the food tray hadn’t been taken inside by Jungkook.

His hands had held you. His arms had protected you. His eyes had made you smile. And his smile had made you laugh and feel all giddy. You couldn’t even blame yourself for falling for him — who wouldn’t fall for him? He was perfect, even with his imperfections, he was perfect.

Maybe the problem was Hyun-ae. Maybe it was her selfishness that led you all to this hell-hole. Or maybe it was you, caring a little too much for your own good.

It was the night before the wedding. You stopped in your tracks in front of Jungkook’s room. The door was as closed as it had ever been. The tray wasn’t touched even a little. You put the food aside.

“Jungkook. Tomorrow’s the wedding,” it wasn’t that late. He should’ve been awake. “Our plans have failed. I’m so sorry.” You turn quiet for a second. “I know you really wanted to marry Hyun-ae. You wanted to marry Hyun-ae and you loved her. You still love her,” it hurt to even say that, “but I failed you. I’m so sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry.” Your head perks up. Did you hear his sweet voice? It was him. Meek, but you could still identify it. “Why are you sorry?” you ask, trembling. You just wished he’d open the door and let you see him. It had been weeks. You couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t go by without seeing his beautiful face, his shining eyes.

“You were right. Hyun-ae was cheating on me.” You stare expectantly at the door, waiting for it to open but it didn’t. “How did you find out…?” you ask again. At least you were true. “One of the noblemen told me. His name’s Taehyung. We’re quite good friends. I told him to follow her. He saw it with his own eyes,” he answered. While you did feel sad that he didn’t believe you but he did believe Taehyung, you couldn’t blame him. He really did love Hyun-ae.

“What about… the wedding now?” you ask weakly, afraid to approach the topic. “I don’t know anymore. I gave you so much pain. I put you through so much. You agreed. You deserve a much better friend, Y/N,” you shake your head at his words. “You’re my best friend. And…” you bite your lip. Something in you told you that you weren’t as scared to say it now.

“And I love you.” There was silence on both sides. It was understandable. You wished you were less selfish. He was still going through a break-up, you should’ve been nicer and save it for later. But you had come to realise that later wasn’t a thing anymore. Whatever was going to happen, it had to happen now.

“I loved you too.” Your eyes widen. “I did. I thought you saw me just like a brother… so… I… I went to the bar. I saw Hyun-ae. She helped… she was like a rebound. I hate to put it that way, because I did like her too… but I don’t even deserve you after what I did. I realise now that I’m selfish. I’m self-obsessed. I shouldn’t have asked you such a big favour. I mean… I loved you. You don’t do that to the people you love.

"When I spent time with you, I felt like I was with my soulmate.” You didn’t speak. You were too scared to. “I felt like I was on cloud nine. You made me so happy, Y/N. I laughed the hardest when you were around. You always seemed to put a smile on my face. You really did. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve you.”

———

The wedding day, you sigh. “Where is Jungkook?!” the queen exclaims, furious. Since he had locked himself in his room, she had bought his attire for him. But he was nowhere to be seen.

You had talked to him last night, but after he confessed, he had turned quiet and eventually you were just talking to yourself.

Your mind did not focus on her though. It was somewhere else. “Love like the one between you and Jungkook can’t be faked, dear. You’ll be very happy with him,” your mother had said as you were being ready for the big day. You couldn’t explain the heartburn you felt when you heard her words.

Now everything was in chaos. No one knew where Jungkook was. You suggested checking his room, but it was locked. A locksmith was called immediately and after he had worked his magic, the door opened.

You were scared. But even more so, worried. Jungkook wasn’t in his room. Opening the bathroom door, Jungkook’s motionless body was found to be in the bathtub.

The rest was a blur. You vaguely remember freaking out, Jungkook’s mother’s screams, and the people who came to pick up the body. You couldn’t stop crying as you reached the hospital and Jungkook was taken straight to the ICU.

Your mother came to sit down beside you. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” she hugs you, while you sob into her shoulder. You were still in your wedding clothes. “He wasn’t even supposed to be my husband, mother.”

“What?”

“It was a lie…” you admit. “He wanted to marry a commoner. She asked him for time, so he asked me to play along so he could get some more time for his real soon-to-be wife. But she cheated on him. Only wanted the money and status. I wasn’t his wife, mother.” You look at her, her unwavering eyes making you break down even more. “I wasn’t dating Jungkook, mother.”

———

Since then, you’d visit Jungkook every day. He was diagnosed to be in a coma because of the lack of oxygen his brain had received after he tried to suicide by drowning himself.

Your mother had told his parents the truth, and thankfully, even if they were angry for some time, they let you see him again. You’d always bring Cooky with you. It was the one thing he had left you — along with countless beautiful memories.

The first year was heartbreaking. You’d come to visit him and cry every time. You’d tell him how much you love him and that you miss him and his jokes. That everyone misses him. Hyun-ae had come to visit too, and the visit had been short and silent. She told you that she was deeply sorry for what she had done. You fucking hoped she did.

The second year was when most people had forgotten he even existed. The hype had died down, but you still visited him. You told him about how you had spent your day, and that you had met someone promising. You always made sure to kiss him goodbye. You didn’t cry as much now. Sometimes you did, but most of the time, you made jokes. You told him about how people were making fun of you for fake-dating someone as amazing as Jungkook. It hurt, but you felt like Jungkook’s mere presence was enough to make you feel calm.

The third year came and went just as quickly. You told Jungkook about how you had started dating someone for real now. The promising person was by the name of Namjoon. He was another prince you had come across, from a nearby kingdom. Smart, humble, and sweet too. You told Jungkook of your adventures with Namjoon.

The first year that you didn’t have even one day to spare was the fifth one. You and Namjoon had decided to get married. And the preparations had you very busy. You felt bad for that, but you had no other choice.

———

Six years had passed. Going down the aisle, being wed to Namjoon reminded you of your precious friend. He was still in deep sleep, unaware that his loved one was going to get married. Even if he didn’t know Namjoon, he would’ve been the best man at the wedding.

Or wouldn’t it be better if he was the groom himself? You were not going to make the mistake of treating Namjoon as a rebound. It was wrong and he deserved more than that. You had seen how wrong that could go. But there was just something Jungkook had always made you feel that Namjoon just… couldn’t.

He was intelligent, his dimpled smile was adorable. But Jungkook made you feel elevated. He made you feel so incredibly special. And you knew fully well that you couldn’t ever really move on.

You knew that there may have been someone like him out there, but no one was Jungkook. Namjoon was everything Jungkook lacked — he was a planner, he cared for the consequences, and he didn’t take risks. But you just did not feel the way you felt with Jungkook. You wished you could’ve walked down the aisle to Jungkook, but that was wrong to think. So you shook your head and smiled even if your heart was unwilling.

There was no one like Jungkook. He was one of a kind and no one could compete with him. That was a simple truth. You just hoped your dear friend would wake up. There was so much to catch up on. There were so many things you wanted to say to him.

In the place that he would’ve sat today, sat another faithful, dear friend of yours — Cooky. A symbol of your lost love.

[jjkpls]

(y)our name 2 - two (m)

> genre : smut, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> total words : 10.3k

> warnings/content : dumbassesfriends to lovers, unrequited love, slice of life; cursing, dirty talk, penetrative intercourse, oral (m receiving), thigh riding, some filth and then some more filth; jk being a lil shit, oc still panicking

jungkook : Who said I don’t want it

It took him a good twenty minutes to send this. You don't know if he pondered over it for that long or if, after getting back to whatever it is he was doing, the thought suddenly sprang in his head. It's such a curious message. Makes your heartbeat stutters and your hands clammy and it takes you an eternity to formulate a response.

you : Well you sent me the link for a reason

jungkook : Yea cause I thought it might help but it has nothing to do with what I want

What?

jungkook : You’re the one who said you wouldn’t do it again with me

What?

you : Did i say that?

jungkook : Yes you did

You start to type but stop as you realise you don't even know what to say. He wants it again? And what is he even saying? You don't remember ever saying that. Everything's a blur honestly, but Jungkook's words, his insistence, it almost gives off the feeling that he remembers well. Perhaps he hasn't just brushed it off like you thought he did.

you : Would you want it again?

jungkook : Say what you meant to send and I’ll answer

Those goddamn dots.

you : That’s not very fair but whateva

you : You wanna be a big baby as you always are

jungkook : I’m not even going to answer that

you : Well you just did idiot

You purposefully waste time, just trying to delay the confession.

You want to test your luck -maybe rejection is not what's waiting for you. He's pushing it, demanding you to tell. He's admitted some of his own feelings so you should do the same.

you :  it’s just that I found myself very frustrated, to an extent solo doesn’t do anything for me anymore..

As soon as you send the text, you shut the device off, throwing it down on the carpet. It's burning like your shame on your face and you can't bear to hold it any longer.

You really sent that. Your heart is beating furiously. You feel yourself sweating bullets. It's so hot, you sway your legs nervously, vainly hoping to ventilate the suddenly overly-heated room.

Jungkook is sweet, he doesn't leave you hanging for too long and soon enough, your phone is vibrating, begging you to pick it back up.

jungkook : Of course it wouldn’t 

you : Ok don’t even get cocky with me dude

jungkook : Why not? It’s my fault isn’t it?

jungkook : Cause I made you feel that good

So he knows. You were annoyed for you found yourself troubled, anxious and restless. Shaken to your core, moved to your soul. But a side of you, the rational one, kept pestering that you were the chaotic, dumb and weak one responsible for the mess he's made of you. However, here, he admits he knows. He's known all along. He's done it on purpose: fucking you up.

you : 😐

jungkook : Don’t admit it it’s fine we both know it

What an ass.

you : Seriously you’re too cocky what for

Your brain is off right now. You don't know what to say, tempted by the teasing warmth your chest is taken over but nervous to let it spread too far.  

jungkook : I know I’m right

jungkook : I’m not trying to embarrass you

jungkook : Maybe embarrass your exes a bit

jungkook : But it’s pretty easy to tell

jungkook : When someone hasn’t felt a certain way before

jungkook : I know you’ve never come that hard before

jungkook : Don’t lie to me

jungkook : And more than once you reacted like I was crazy

jungkook : Thats the whole fun of playing with a cunt it’s to make it come endlessly until it hurts and your soaked sore and allswollen adn red

Shit. How does he even do that? With just a couple of texts, rendering you speechless, breathless and burning. Soaked in your panties, the discomfort so evident you have to sit up, thighs pressed to one another by fear of exposing the incriminating dark spot out in the open.

He does own you. Capable of manipulating your body and mind with a few well-chosen words. It's something you've never played with, dirty talking. And you didn't know you'd like it as much as you do. But when Jungkook does -the other night, tonight by text- it's lethal.

But how could he do it so easily? Turning so lewd so suddenly? When for the past weeks, he's acted so natural, so casual as if he couldn't care less about the sex you've had. How can he just switch like that?

you : Are you drunk?

jungkook : 😂 😂 😂 😂 😂 😂

jungkook : A bit tipsy we went to a bar with the crew

That explains some of it.

jungkook : Was it too much?

you : Nono it’s fine

you : I just don’t know what to say

jungkook : Tell me what you want

jungkook : What you meant to ask me the other night when I so rudely interrupted you with a dumbass article

Well, shit.

It's just Jungkook. Honesty and shamelessness are the main keys of your friendship. However, you're not him and expressing your sexual desires as easily as he does is not innate.

jungkook : Don’t be shy just tell me

Fuck it.

you : I’d like it if you could be with me again like the other night

You can count the excrutiatingly painful seconds as they tick by. It's been fiveteen.

you :  😬

Now, fifty.

you :  😖 😖 😖 

Finally, he decides to spare you.

jungkook : Is being friends is not a problem anymore?

you : Idk i trust you you trust me

you : We communicate well most of the time

you : Last time wasn’t such a big deal was it? I feel like we’ll be fine

you : Don’t you think?

You're rambling. You need to stop rambling. It's one thing to be in constant panic mode with this shit -this you can deal with, you know yourself and you accept it- but Jungkook really doesn't need to know.

jungkook : Idk I guess you’re right

you : So when you come back are you going to consider it?

jungkook : No

What a dick. Toying with you, bringing you there to then, deny you. How dares he?

jungkook : I’ve made up my mind already

jungkook : You’ll have me if you show yourself convincing enough

you : like how?

jungkook : It’s not that hard 

jungkook : I love it when someone makes me feel like you really want me

jungkook : *they

Oh boy.

you : k ill try

You’re resolute to try. To try your hardest. It kills you, the idea that he somehow managed to have the upper hand in this. It feels like he's going to make you suffer. But the point of the matter, the only thing you care about anymore is the fact that you were wrong -he did enjoy the first time if he’s up for a second. Oh, and also, obviously, the fact that you are a couple of hours away from a devastating orgasm you've been craving for for weeks. 

You spend the whole day -luckily for you, you're not working- prepping you. Trimming and grooming. Exfoliating and moisturizing. And as you’re doing all that, your stamina is twitching in anxiety because, holy shit, it feels like it never stops. There’s always a thing to arrange, another one that wouldn’t let itself fixed and when was the last time you spent that amount of effort into looking (that) attractive for someone? Even for Namjoon, you did not.

You did a lot. You cared about him. Namjoon was always so class and handsome and you hated the idea of being an ugly potato attached to his side so you’d take care of yourself more than you would when completely single -just gotta be honest. But not as much. You’re not exactly sure why. Probably because Namjoon was attentive and sweet but not the same kind of lover. He wouldn’t feel you up as heavily as you remember Jungkook doing. He’s never specifically asked to see you with the lights on. He’d talk to you and listen and maybe that’s more what it was about. He would lean in and seem to be drinking in your appearance when you’d be having a good conversation. One where you’d get animated and passionate. You’re pretty sure your brains -no matter how lame you consider them to be next to his- were what he liked the most about you. He must have found you pretty. Surely. But you’d never really caught him giving you a longing stare from the other end of the sofa when you were not looking.

He’d call you pretty and ravishing when he’d come to pick you up for a date and you’d spent a lot of time dolling yourself up. But always the same way. Always the same words. Never anything specific to what you were wearing or whatever. And his eyes were not really looking, were they? It didn’t hurt your feelings nor your ego that much. Because there’s probably nothing more flattering for you to have someone like you for your mind rather than your appearance -the flimsy quite irrelevant thing that you don’t really have much control over. It was fine. And like everything that used to be fine, Jeon Jungkook had to make it a problem.

As you stare at your own reflection in the mirror, pinching your lips together to spread the lipstick more evenly, you’re reminded of the way his hot stare was burning you that night. You remember how every time you’d look his way in the dark, you’d see his big round eyes locked on you with the cute stars in it shining fondly. You have no idea how attracted he is to you physically. You have no idea if he is at all or it’s just a thing that he does. Maybe he likes you the way you like an ugly old picture of yourself. With time and fondness, it becomes sweet and special and you just like looking at it.

Maybe, it's a weird analogy.

More so given what he’d be doing to you, the words he was saying while looking at you like he did. You don’t know how to read this distinctive mind of his. It’s new territory. Not completely terrifying because there’s your guide, your best friend, walking you through it. But it’s like a new mansion you’re just visiting. So bright and light and welcoming, with so many doors all closed but not locked and you don’t know what’s behind any of them even though you’re so curious to figure it out. There’s all those new faces, secrets behind those doors. You hope he’ll open them to you. All of them. They’re holding, you're certain of it, mind-blowing surprises -if the other night, where you discovered an actual man instead of your little boyish baby of a friend, is anything to go by. And it’s wonderful, that idea. That after all this time, after being so sure of knowing the kid like you’ve crafted it from scratch yourself, there is still more to learn about him. New things for him to amaze you with.

“What are you doing?” Eun is watching you with a hand on the frame of the door, eyes blown wide and a weird stance. She looks about ready to flee like she’s witnessing something so unspeakable she is that close to jump on the phone and call the cops.

That’s rude. You’d frown if you were not so concern about munching up your freshly applied mascara. Fair enough, lately, you haven’t been exactly runaway material but the way she’s looking at you is plain blank offensive. 

“I’m just making myself pretty. Do I look weird to you?” Maybe you do. Maybe you overdid it a bit. 

She completely ignores your concern to jump on the exciting bait you did not even mean to throw. “What for? You have a date?”

“No, I don’t. It’s for my own, uh, enjoyment.”

Her face twists comically while she tsks in disdain. “Bitch, please.” Getting ruder by the second, she is. “You have a date. It’s not Namjoon is it?”

“No, not with Namjoon. But do I look too different, like strange-different?”

“You look gorgeous, babe. I was just surprised.”

“Oh okay, cool.” You decide to take her words for facts, panicking over potentially looking like a clownish try-hard is not what you need.

“So... A date? You little cachotière*.” Here, the nerves hit. You have been nothing but excited since the text conversation you had with Jungkook the night before but now, merely an hour before he’s supposed to be home, you begin freaking out.

It’s Eun and her overuse of the “d-word”. Because it’s not like that. At all. If it becomes a date then you have to rightfully so freak the fuck out. Thanks to her, even if it's not one, you start losing it. In your state of panic, while you observe yourself liquify in the mirror -it’s quite interesting to watch, you having a crisis in real time-, blanching in utter destress, another scary thought assaults you.

Jungkook lives across the short hall from here. He and Jimin and you and Eun are so close and comfortable around each other, you basically share one giant apartment, allowing yourselves to just barge in no matter how inappropriate the moment is. The whole floor is a constant open house. The probability of having Eun find out that you’re in fact sleeping over to their's is so high, it’s almost prophetic.

Shit. She’s going to ask so many questions. And of course, she won’t believe you if you say you dressed yourself up to the nines just to go play games with Jungkook. She’d think there would be something else to it. And she’d be right. But she doesn’t need to know just yet. You were blessed enough the other night, that she drunk herself to sleep with Jimin, knocked herself out so bad she couldn’t remember anything past the cake cutting. Not that you have or want to preserve secrets from her. It’s not really secrets. “Secrets” sounds like you’d purposefully want to withhold information from her from lack of trust. It’s not like that. It’s just whatever Jungkook and you are doing is yours. There are a lot of things you two never consider sharing with other people just because they are your thing.You two share a private garden and no one will ever be invited to visit it.

“Who is it?”

“I- just- it’s a bit soon to-“

“You don’t wanna say yet. Ok, I get it.” She says it with geniune sympathy, yet her glossy lips puckered in a little pout. “Do I know him?”

“Uh- possibly.” Her eyes widen for a second before they’re looking up to the roof, searching her brain for the full list of your common acquaintances -she’s understanding and respectful but that doesn’t mean she's not eaten up by curiosity.

After a while, as you ponder over your own image and consider wiping your whole face off of the makeup to just go with something more like your everyday self, the one Jungkook knows better, Eun gives up on the investigation and redirects her attention back to you, “Is he handsome?”

You don’t know how to answer her and end up giving an incoherent babbling and spilling of squeaky sounds that can only describe it better than words would. She’s smiling a wolf grin, picking up a lipstick from her personal shelf before taking a makeup remover tissue to drag over your already painted mouth. She applies, meticulously, the new taint she’s chosen. It’s a deep red, very sultry that gives you the look of a sexy vampire or maybe a succubus.

She gets it. Jungkook's tending to observe you is not the only reason you've worked so hard on yourself. He is so deadly handsome. You always knew but not felt it arouse anything within you. You saw him as that little brother of yours who’s grown so much into a very charming, universally attractive boy. But that night, with his hair -you’d never, in more than a decade of being his friend, seen his forehead and you’re oh-so glad you did not because horny-high-school-you would probably have freaked about it, who would think that eyebrows could do so much to someone's face- pulled back and his leather jacket, quirking his eyebrow and biting his lip and leaning around like he was some kind of James Dean. You don’t know how responsible are the orgasms -surely, they can have an impact on your perception-, or your thirst, but you’ve decided, observing him more attentively since that night, that he was one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. Truly.

Also you can’t actively name who would be standing right next to him on the podium but that’s just a detail. A detail you won’t share with him more than you did last time because you don’t want his ego to inflate and explode right in your face. It wouldn’t be pretty nor pleasing. He's cocky enough already as it it.

Anyway, you just want to look beautiful because he, himself, is so much so. 

“I hope you’re aiming to get laid because with this magic...” Eun leaves the sentence pending, her sharp eyebrows high over her protruding eyes conclude it. You can’t control the widely telling grin drawing itself on your mouth.

“You’re gonna need a lot of convincing.” It’s the first thing he said as he saw you walked in through the cracked open door. You’d just sneaked your way through the whole length of their apartment, trying to not get caught by Jimin while having a mini attack because said Jimin was sitting right there, in the living room you had to pass by. He had headphones on and was so engrossed in whatever he was doing on his cellphone that he didn’t even notice you, staring at him like a deer caught in headlight, not even flinching when in your panic to run from the scene while luck was still on your side, you had knocked down a craft bag full of noisy ramen boxes. You hadn’t even picked it up, just rushing to the end of the hallway for Jungkook’s bedroom.

You don’t know what you look like right now. You feel awkward and dishevelled and quite exposed, standing in front of him in your fancy outfit while he’s in his pyjamas, looking up at you from the bed, with an unimpressed expression masking his face.

“You know I arrived 2 hours ago, right?” He is not genuinely upset, you can tell. But there’s a little edge to his tone. An honest curiosity. And maybe a relief. Maybe he thought you had changed your mind and hadn’t bothered letting him know about it.

“Yes, sorry. Mom called.” You say it with a bratty roll of your eyes as if you’re not left warm and fuzzy each time you hang up a phone call with her.

She’s lovely. You miss her often but not to the point of actually wanting her around -she’d pester and nag the life out of you if she were to see the state of your room and just the general way you chose to do things. And she talks so much. She has so much to say every time she picks up the phone to ring you. Everything about her and about your dad and the rest of the family and the rest of the neighbourhood and what the mayor has been up too and what her colleagues at work have been discussing about these days. It goes on and on and on and you understand that it comes from a place of her missing you dearly but when most of the times it is okay and a fairly entertaining way of wasting two hours doing nothing, you couldn’t care less about whatever the hell was going to be replacing the shop next to your uncle’s when the stupid story is delaying the event of tonight. But how could you tell her that? So you sat on the barstool, your forehead pressed onto your handbag (that you didn’t need but you were supposed to go out on a date so that fit better the narrative), shoe-clad feet bouncing nervously in the air, half-listening, half-dreading, humming noncommittal monosyllabic words into the phone, as Eun watched you from the sofa, staring with a beyond confused, low-key judgmental gaze, miming with all her body how you should hang up and head out. And that’s how you arrived two hours late when you meant to be in his bedroom before he even came back from the station.

You shrug, grimacing in a form of apology. But Jungkook knows your mom like his own and doesn’t hold you accountable for the lateness anymore, his face being recovered by a soft layer of fondness at the mention of her. “She said to tell you she thinks about you a lot and misses you. And to give you kisses too.” He chuckles at that and you match him, amused by the double meaning you now give to the term. You used to almost fear those innocent kisses -more subconsciously than not, it just wouldn’t come about, none of you needing to express your affection like that- and look at you now. About to get screwed by him. For the second time.

He is staring up at you with an intensity, you don’t want to get ahead of yourself and assume what it means but it is here. And you can't help but stare back, hoping to not show too much how bad you want to jump on him right now. Lain in bed like that, back pressed against his headboard, with a half unbuttoned white silky-like shirt, and his expression and his demeanour, you can see that under the cover his legs are taut and slightly parted: he looks like he’s expecting something. You. He’s been expecting you and you’re finally here and he’s tantalizing you with the meal he knows you want to consume. Tantalizing because no matter how sure you are that his expression means he still is on board and wants you, he doesn’t look willing to make a move. “So, as I was saying: a lot more convincing will be needed.”

“Well, I’m here already. Doesn’t that tell you I- like- want it?”

“Sure. But still it’s late and I’ve been travelling all evening and I’m so tired.” He feigns a yawn. “As you can see, I was going to sleep.” What an annoying little shit. He makes his eyes all big and sorry-looking, putting his mouth in a pout like he’s saddened. But you see the quirks of his stupid eyebrows. He has the “bullshit face”. It’s pretty self-explanatory. Whenever he has it on, and he has very little control over it by the way, you know he’s in for some bullshitting. Either it shows when he wants to get away with something he’s done or doesn’t want to admit it out loud, or he’s straight on wanting to mess with you. He has had that stupid face since he was fourteen and he pretended in that one conversation about porn and sexism that he shared the same opinion as you and yes, lesbian porn for male was wrong and disgusting. He didn’t believe a word of it, and this not because he was a big fan of the genre but because he wasn’t a big consumer of porn in general -which you didn’t know at the time. You just knew that he was lying because his face contorted in a way it never did before and that was suspicious as hell.

So here comes the bullshit face and you already know why. You’re in for some torture. Jungkook and his stupid competitive ass. While he doesn’t like competing in 'real' life with other people because he doesn’t like to win over them, he has no problem with you. He loves to make your life harder. He balances it out by being the best friend you've ever had but still, so aggravating.

“Guk, seriously, don’t be mean. I already made the first step the other day!”

“And then you avoided me for a week.” He says, totally unfazed.

“It wasn’t even a week.” You’re the one scowling now. Mumbling through button-shaped lips. “Seriously, I can’t do this...” There’s a flash of alarm blinking for a second on his face as he straightens up in his bed, the cover slipping completely from his torso, exposing all the golden skin peeking from the open shirt.

“Do what?”

“‘Convince you’. I can’t- like- seduce you or whatever.” You grumble like an upset kid and that’s pretty much what you feel like. It’s like your favourite toy, the one you’ve been wanting for many Christmas is just right here, within reach, but you won’t have it because you’re required to resolve an impossible math problem or something. It’s too hard. You already feel yourself burning from embarrassment, your heart is thumping in your temple and you just decide to give up, taking a few tentative steps backward, hand already reaching out for the handle when Jungkook jumps off of his bed to grab it. Standing so tall and broad, hovering you, his warm hand holding yours and the breeze of his perfume hitting your nostrils, you’re taken by a rush of excitation. It’s crazy what the context does to perception. He stood that way in front of you so many times but never have you felt so small, never have you found him so big and attractive because of it and that scent, you’ve smelled basically all your life -a soft flowery carress-, never made your head spin that way.

“Don’t leave!” His voice is a bit loud, almost desperate and the thought that he might be makes you smile internally. “Lemme help you.” He demands so gently, with the stars in his eyes as fervent supporters to his cause, there’s no way you’d say no. He could ask you anything when he’s looking and talking to you like that, with his warm hand now pressed to your neck, thumb caressing your cheek.

You nod your head once and he kisses you. As softly as he is, your hands clutch at his shirt way too intensely to match. He’s so gentle like you’re a tiny little thing he’s dreading at the idea to scare away. So different from the kisses you remember him giving you the other night. It’s lovely anyway. Tender as can be. Delicate and kind and when he pulls back to look into your eyes again, your heart warms up with all the love and adoration you have for this man. He really is your best friend, the most important person in your life that you had chosen and he makes you so happy.

“Is it okay?” He whispers so sweetly you want to wrap your arms around his neck and suffocate him with love. You nod again this time more dismissively because a scent in his breath has just interpellated you.

“Have you been drinking?”

He smiles cheekily, dipping his head down in guilt. “I had a shot or two.” You relish in the shameful tremble of his confession.

There’s this complimentary thing about you two. One would often compensate for the other's lacking. It’s never been conscious or anything but it’s always been there. You see the way he gulps visibly, you recognize the tiny blush of his cheeks sauntering to his ears, you know why he had those shots, and you feel the rush of confidence run through your veins because he is so nervous, you can see it now. Therefore, you have to tease. It’s only fair.

“You were not this nervous by text, were you?”

“Stop saying that, I’m not nervous!” He exclaims with passion but you both know he’s lying and it makes you laugh right in his face, uncaring of his pinching your cheek to make you stop. He’s just too cute and dumb.

“Keep that up and I really won’t be nice to you.”

Even if the grin remains on your face, you shudder from head to toes. His tone has dropped to a lower purr, his gaze is dark with a gravity that wasn’t there before. That's funny because it really feels like a deja-vu. Last time unrolled so similarly and you know what is supposed to happen now.

“You always say that.” He doesn’t say anything, keeps staring, engaging in an eye staring contest, daring you to not drop your own. “You threaten me but you never act on it.” You say quietly. You don’t know what comes over you, probably just the heat of the moment, but you regret almost instantly to be so reckless. You don’t want him to be merciless with you. You had a taste of him being fairly nice the other night and almost died. You’re terrified of him being mean. But here you are tempting him into doing just that.

Perhaps he, who knows you the best, reads you again like a book he’s written himself and he settles for being soft and lenient with you. He leans in to smash his lips to yours, now wet and demanding, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth before you even get to close your eyes. His hands holding your head firmly, his hips leaning forward making his thighs dig into you, his tongue greets for the briefest of moment your own, sending a direct message to your centre which you can feel clench around nothing. But before you can gather back your thoughts and try and meet him and work his mouth too instead of just letting him devour you, he’s let you go. All grip on you, any proximity allowing you to feel his warmth are gone. He’s so far the only thing that's still been linking you, the thin strip of saliva joining your mouths, snaps. You’re cold outside yet burning inside, heart erratically pumping in your chest, feeling dumb and confused and abused and revolted, because why would he already stop? Especially to step back and look at you like he’s decided he now wanted to be mean.

“I’ve helped you enough. Now it’s on you.” You gawk in silence, watching mindlessly as he proceeds on making his bed, laying the cover flat so he could hop back down on it.

“What does that mean?”

“Make me feel good. Remind me why I’m letting you have me when you’re being such a bitch.” You gasp at the choice of word. He’s never used it in front of you, not even in a joking manner -or maybe once or twice but he was talking about his roommate who happens to be one at times. Your astonishment is met with the greatest smirk. He’s having so much fun because he’s got the upper hand again. “Treat me better and I’ll be good to you when it’s your turn.”

And this is one of those moments you'd encountered so many times since you were a little girl. This instance where two options would be presented to you and you had to make a choice. An important one. One that you decided would define you and therefore, it needed to be the right one. Either you choose the easiest option, indulge in your fear of the unknown, turn into a coward, denying yourself what you really want because you’re scared. Or you carry your virtual balls, decide that even if you might fail, you will follow this terrifying path out of your comfort zone because you want the future you to be proud and thankful for you. Most of these times, you did not only think about you but also about the little boy with the bunny teeth and fluffy hair and big and soft wondering eyes which were always watching you, you couldn’t permit yourself to bend and plead because you wanted to inspire him to be strong and adventurous.

The boy's right there. Not so little anymore. Not needing any push nor any light to follow. But eyes still as big and soft, looking at you so expectantly, you recall those would never hurt you. You can face the shame. You can even face the embarrassment of not knowing what to do or try and end up doing wrong because it’s just Jungkook. He’d smile to heal your bruised ego and guide you gently the way he did before.

You step forward, carefully, as if he’s become the fragile being ready to fly away now. It's silly. The precaution is for you more than for him. Legs twitching slightly, eyes set on your every move, lips now hanging open as if he’s struggling to breathe, he doesn’t look whatsoever wanting to back away. He’s waiting for you. You slip your feet out of your shoes in a swift motion, before kneeling on the bed, one hand setting on his knee. You see his Adam's apple jump up and down and you wonder if he doesn’t wish he had downed more than two shots. He keeps switching from a nervous wreck to a hot “alpha” dude and you don’t understand how you're supposed to deal with that.

When you look down, pondering over your next move, you notice the blue shorts he has on. You know them for you’ve seen him wearing them multiple times before. They’re meant to be rather loose. At least you thought they were. But as you gawp at them, you’re struck by how tight they look on his legs. They end way higher than they should because of his position, his thighs filling them up to the point of straining -if he keeps them for too long you’re sure he’ll have a thin indent along his skin. His thighs look so meaty and the part just before his knees, lacking fat rendering his monstrous muscles enhanced. You press your own legs on reflex. You had no idea a man's legs could be so attractive.

The glorious view finishes to urge you on. Trailing forward, your hands set on the object of your new obsession, fingers loving the warmth of his skin and dipping in the flesh. He feels wonderful under your touch.

Would he let you bite them a bit? Maybe if you ask nicely, he will. You shake the thought off. It’s not the plan right now. You don’t even know if he’d like that and you’re supposed to please him.

You raise yourself from the bed, keeping your balance thanks to the grip you have on his thighs and get even closer to take a seat on the left one. Jungkook looks so handsome from up close. You’re met with his soft skin and pretty shades. There’s the rather deep scar he got on his cheek one of those times when you were fourteen and you were practising riding your bikes on the low stairs in front of the subway station. You remember how scary it was to have to entangle him from his fucked up bike with half of his face pissing blood. Terrifying. But it left him with this eternal scar, charming along with his boyish features, and memory of a not-so-pleasing moment but precious friendship. You love it even more because he lies each time he's asked about it, telling crazy stories that'd never happened, while sporting a cheeky smile only you understand. And there are his beauty marks scattered here and there like they’re playing a game of hide-and-seek. You find your favourite one hiding under his bottom lip, lean in to place a kiss on it.

When you back away his eyes are shut, his face so relaxed, he looks so peaceful and happy with this tiny curve of his pink lips -lips that you notice are smeared with a faint dark red you know to be the lipstick you're wearing-, you want to squeal from how grateful you are to have him like that.

Jungkook scrapes his throat when he opens his eyes again, shifting a bit under you as if to get more comfortable and you’re reminded that he’s waiting. He’s been waiting patiently and your clit from down here pulses as to remind you that you also need something.

So you start moving. Hands pressed to his shoulders, loving how sturdy and big he feels under you, you grind languidly along his thigh. You feel it building already. You've lost the manner, the way to do this for it to be nice, but it's so hot: he is, his breath on your lips is, the room, everything is. Soon the intense gaze you’re sharing with him is broken as his head falls backward, all teeth out from how amused he is. You don’t stop moving, no matter how confusing his reaction is, because the contact on your clit feels incredible. It shoots a succesion of electric shocks through you, blanking your mind momentarily each time, there’s no way you’re stopping because he wants to make fun of you again. 

“So I tell you to please me and that’s what you come up with?” He asks once his fit of chuckles have quiet down. 

Breathlessly, you counter, “You said you liked that.” You’re not offended about his change of mood. You couldn’t care less. Not when you’ve figured out exactly how to move your hips to treat your cunt, when the motion has come so easy to perform you can now speed up comfortably. 

“I do but when you’re done, you’ll have to try harder than that.” You nod, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed. He takes hold of your hips. He’s not guiding, just letting his hands there as to feel you, encourage you. “For now, just make yourself come, babe.” Your eyes open again on his, the latter having a lot to say. You read them outright. He wonders if it’s ok to call you that. He apologizes every time he does it by accident so it feels a bit weird, unfamiliar. But the pet name, for some reasons you don’t care to elucidate, renders you all putty and giddy. He can probably feel it in the way you melt even more in his embrace, looking up at him with large eager eyes. 

“I promise I’ll do better after.” It slips out of your mouth straight from your hazy heart and Jungkook catches it with eagerness. You sound so tiny and lenient. Almost pitiful. 

“You’re doing great, baby.” He assures you right away, kissing your jaw with way more tongue than lips. “You’re so sexy.” You moan over him, from the pleasure building, the wetness on your skin, the praise, the name. Your fingers slip under the open folds of his shirt, too lazy and incompetent to unfasten the buttons, but so eager to grant your eyes with the glorious vision of his thick chest, they drag the tissue down as much as it’d go, not caring the least about how the stretch might hurt the skin around his neck. “Are you close?”

“Yes.” You moan in his ear. His hands on your covered hips glide along your thighs to sneak under the skirt of your dress and grab the flesh the find there. 

“You know one thing that I would really like you doing for me?” His voice, texture of honey, meets the crook of your neck and coats your heart in a thick, warmth layer.

“Tell me.” You pant in his face without an once of embarrassment left. You’re rutting like a horny bitch on his thigh, begging him to tell you how you could please him. How he brought you there, how he is doing all this is beyond your comprehension but you're loving every aspects of it.

“I'd really like you to cover my cock with the pretty lipstick you have on.”

Your lips press against one another. May Eun be blessed.

“I’d love that.” His tongue is at your collarbone for a devilishly short instant. “'Will show me how desperate you are for it.”

“Ok, I will.” He smiles to you, from his bunny smile to his glittering eyes. “Can you kiss me? Like ear-earlier?” His mouth is on yours before you get the question fully out. You moan into him, finding out this is the tiny push you needed. As he licks and sucks, his fingers digging deeper in your thighs, you get off both from the friction and his kiss. You’re almost there. You can feel the heat spreading. You sneak one of your hand down his chest to his crotch to get a grasp of his cock. It’s so hard and so hot under your palm. So hot and wet in your mouth. And you are coming undone, hips snapping on his leg, eyes shut and lips open only to leave out a small, broken whine. The pressure against your clit feels a bit too intense, a bit raw and makes you jerk and wince, until Jungkook wraps his arms around you and welcomes you into his chest, kissing the top of your head while whispering something you don’t really catch through the ringing in your ear.

It’s decided. If he’s ok with it you’ll come back to his bed for all your sexual needs. Rubbing yourself on a pillow never felt that good and he hasn’t done much to you, just being there and turning you on in a way that shouldn't be allowed. When you withdraw from his lap, you’re cringing visibly from the sensitivity, movements slow and careful, face contorted. Jungkook is watching you with undisguised enjoyement, a grin biting on his lower lip. 

“So I gather you like thigh riding too, now?” You shrug, red in the cheeks, avoiding his gaze. He doesn’t comment further. He just sits there, the tips of his fingers grazing mindlessly the thigh you just rode. The other set of fingers toying with the hem of his dishevelled shirt. You watch him from under your lashes, not ready to meet his eyes just yet, resulting in you having to face the prominent bulge of his crotch. The moment lasts for an eternity. All you can think about is why he won’t give it to you already. “If there’s something that you want, you should know how to ask for it.”

Aggravation is heavy on your temples. You take the time to think about it and quite frankly you don’t have it in you to start arguing for something you both know that you both want. You’re not that petty. He can have his stupid win if he wants. 

“Strip already so I can- suckyouoff.” How is it so difficult to say out loud? You’ve never thought yourself to be that prude but here you are, having to say the words, and you realize you’re so unfamiliar with them if not for the erotic novels you used to read back in high school. While he, on the other hand, says all those obscenities with such perfect phlegm.

His slender fingers raise to his shirt, toying with the first button and after an excruciatingly long time which tastes of pure torture, they unfasten it. They aim for the next one but just stop there. You’re boiling, shaking, this close to jump on him and rip it off already. Decency and, to a bigger extent, pride keep you from doing so. He would like this too much.

“That won’t do, ___.” You can't help the long sigh that escapes you.

“Remember what I said? Convince me.” He says again, stressing the syllables as to make sure you get them right this time. He's pushing you so far. Too far. You don't get why he would challenge you this much. He was gentler the other night, more complaisant. Maybe it turns him on. Maybe he's not a total dick and actually likes to be worshipped rather than simply enjoying your misery. You do want to please him. Therefore, with a trembling voice, breath shorten by timidity, you pronounce aloud the words you mean but hurt to admit.

“Can I please have your cock?” Those are the magic words. In a blink of the eyes, his shirt is thrown away, one of his hand sets on his crotch, massaging it softly while the other reach for you, open palm welcoming you forward. You fit yours in it, Jungkook presses the inside of your fingers to his mouth before he drags you to him. Once you've kneeled in between his opened legs, your hand slip from his. You look up, gnawing on your lip. “Can you like- guide me through it?”

“You've never given head before?”

“I did but- I don't know. I want it to be good.” He smiles wide. That big, big grin that shows off both his up and down lines of teeth, with his dumb nose all scrunched up.

He nods, observing you quietly. And you reach for the waistband of his shorts. You mean to just drag it down to his thighs but he takes upon himself to strip completely out of it. You have no idea how he does that, standing fully naked there, in front of you -who's still fully clothed, by the way. You're not complaining; when he's looking this good, it makes it rather understandable. He looks perfect. Perfect but not in a linear, boring way. In a shockingly stunning way.

You've never had the full experience. You had the massive thighs, the broad shoulders and lean chest, his pretty face and opulent fluffy hair on top of it. But all put together, he's a deadly piece of art. Hypnotizing. Shaped like an Adonis. He looks so handsome. Gorgeous.

And of fucking course, as any piece of art, not a detail is left neglected. He's this remarkable to his very sex.

It's so fucking ridiculous. And unfair.

Quick before letting yourself the time to look at it for too long and get intimidated, you wrap your hand around it. Fairly long and lean, fair with a blushy tip. So soft and warm and hard in your hand. Such a pretty cock. The thought plagues your mind but you're smart enough to not say it aloud. It's one of the weirdest thought you've ever had, you realize.

It's true though. So true. So pretty it just pulls you in.

You kiss the head a few times, slowly, before you slide to the length. Walking your way up with your tongue, you hear him hiss aloud, see his abs contracting in spasms.

The tip of his cock is so tender. Flushed, silky and soaked, tasting and feeling so nice on your tongue, on your lips. Your eyes meet his. You're just curious to see how sweet his face looks when he's letting out all those tiny whimpers. You see him grimace, frown before he closes his eyes shut and throw his head back, blocking entirely the view you're giving him and you're wondering if you're doing this right. He's not giving you any guidance like he said he would. He's not that loud, quite quiet even, if you consider how talkative he was the other night. He's not bucking his hips uncontrollably in your wet heat like you remember your ex, Taehyung, used to do.

As you suckle on the head, dipping the tip of your tongue in the slit, your left hand holding him firmly upward while the right one, curiously tests its way down, caressing his balls. There's a switch hidden there apparently. Each time the tip of your fingers dip there, he leaves out a languid groan.

“You're not telling me what to do.” You complain between two deep inhale, raising up. Your lips feel hot, tingly, and you imagine them swollen and red. You imagine it's the reason why he's staring at them the way he is.

“I don't need to tell you anything. You're- You're doing perfect.” It makes you roll your eyes. His voice is tensed, his words stuttered but he might be faking it. He's not even cursing or anything. His hands not gripping your hair. Awfully disappointing. Perfect in your mouth but disappointing around you. Even more so, when he stops you from leaning to work your mouth on him again. “You wanna give me more?” You stare silently, not having a clue of where a yes would take you. “Wanna try to ride me?”

It’s the best sensation you’ve ever felt. Sitting on his chest like it's your throne, having him look up at you with the giant marbles he has for eyes, enchanted and eager. “Should I eat you out first?” You’re soaked. You’ve been feeling yourself drip since you tasted for the first time a drop of his precum, you don’t need to be eaten out. You know what’s to come. You’re about to have him fill you up again. After all this time craving for it, dreaming day and night about it. You wouldn’t want to delay it any longer.

When Jungkook gets busy grabbing a condom from the nightstand, you take the opportunity to throw your dress over your head. You’re not sure why he hasn’t hinted at taking it off yet. His wandering hands have been teasing the skin under it non stop but he’s never tried to actually take it off.  

“Jungkook, why not take my dress off?”

He looks up from the wrapper he’s been struggling with, confusion shining in his eyes. His mouth opens, about ready to answer but he catches sight of your form, naked except for the delicate black lace lingerie you carefully picked. He’s never seen you naked with proper lightening, nor any close to this state of undressing as the last time he’s seen you in a bikini, well, you can't remember but it was probably in late middle school. He seems to like it. It’s the special gaze again. The one of a lover. The ardent one, dark, almost teary as his hands graze up your sides so lightly it leaves a painful scorching along the skin. “You’re beautiful.”

“Thanks.” You mean to hit his chest to chastise his over-exaggerated gravity but you can’t deny his sincerity and your hand simply lands flabbily instead. “Can I keep my, uh, underwear?” He just nods, doesn’t get cocky or mocking, eyes still bathing in your appearance, and a crazy thought occurs. Could it be possible that he sees you the same way you see him?

You don’t like to talk in leagues. It’s ridiculous and pointless and for the most part inaccurate. You know your worth. You’re a good person with a lot to offer, fairly pretty on a good day, with some flaws, of course, but nothing that outrageous, just like most people. But Jungkook is quite, he’s quite phenomenal. Friendship put aside, you can see how much of a surreal deal he is. And physically -even though it doesn't usually matter to you but since it’s about sleeping together for the sake of sex rather than feelings, it kind of does matter here-, he’s beyond anything you have ever seen, in real life or on a screen. He’s something else. Something else from another world. A perfect dream of a perfect sculptor brought to life. And he’s looking at you like he doesn’t know that, like he can’t see that and he believes it’s you the piece of art.

“Sure. You’re- It looks so pretty on you.” His voice has lost some of the heavy tension from before. He's smoothing the tissue under his fingers, studying the quiet intricacies in the pattern.

“Thanks. I just bought it.” His dark orbs snap up.

“For me?” You could lie. You could and he would never know about it but you want to tell him the truth. You nod. Shrugging slightly to pretend casualty. Kindly, he whispers, “Thank you, babe. I love it.”

Maybe it's the timid blush on your cheeks that manages to change his heart. Either way, it’s like he finally thinks you’ve done enough and don’t deserve to be waiting any longer. However, now it’s your turn to delay the action a bit. Placing your hand on his just wrapped firmly around his cock, you prevent him from covering it up just yet. There’s still precum shinning at the slit, and the head looks so sweet, you just need to know if it’d feel as good against your clit as it did on your tongue. It does. It’s soft and sleek, warm, it toys so pleasingly with your button and the visual, the visual is sinful. The cherry on top is the expression you catch on his face when you look up. Jungkook is as mesmerized as you are by the sight.

“I want you now, Guk.” It takes him a good five seconds during which he gauges your gaze. You’re not sure what he meant to find there. Doubt maybe? Disappointment? Probably. Disappointment matching his own for he seems to drag on the moment he separates your two sexes to proceed on slipping the condom on. You feel it too. The almost dread. There’s a vivid image of him jerking himself off against your clit that blinks furiously behind your eyelids. Fuck. It doesn’t help to see him tug at his cock and manipulate it between those beautiful veiny hands of his.

“Up.” You obey forthwith, pushing on your knees to let him place the tip just under you. His free hand push the crotch of your panties to the side, managing to sneak a couple of fingers between your lips. It makes him smile when he sees you unwittingly bucking your hips forward. “You control it all, ok? It’s like for my thigh, you just do what feels good to you, yeah?”

You nod. The rational part of your brain is freaking out but the greedy glutton that is the other side jumps on the occasion. Literally. In one swift motion, you've downed yourself completely on him, taking his cock entirely in, you’re almost positive you can feel him in your womb. It has him gasp loudly, cursing under his breath as his hands fly to your hips to squeeze them meanly. You don’t know if it’s a manifestation of a brusque and unexpected rush of pleasure or if you’ve hurt him as much as you hurt yourself. He should have done it. He’s the one that knows how to get you off. He gives you the power for five seconds and you manage to hurt the both of you with your incompetence and stupid hormones. It's not a good time to give up though. Not when he still has the steamiest kisses for your collarbones. You start rising up slowly this time, it’s decided you’re keeping it slow. It’s easier for you and brings you progressively to a more comfortable fit. Also as you take your time to free every inch and take them back in one by one, you get to feel him graze your walls. It’s a wonderful sensation. Being that filled up. Being on top of this man who’s still holding you like you’re holding his faith between your hands and he’s so willing to know what you’ll decide to do with it.

Lucky for him, you're feeling merciful. It’s hard not to when through the layers of sweat and crimson covering him into your lover, you still catch glimpses of your best friend. The cute little boy, forever the cure to your loneliness and adversities, the one person you would give up your whole life and its aspirations for. Even your family, you care so much about them, love them so dearly but you’re still marked by that time you had to come to the realization that your life was your own and you had to disappoint them by going against what they wanted for you just because it didn’t match your vision. But Jungkook, Jungkook could ask anything from you, anything and you’d give it to him. You’d give up on anything that’s ever meant something to you. Because he is everything. He's all the meaning your life owns. You’re not sure if it’s the right time but it’s there, sitting on his cock, riding him minutely that you feel a rush of utter love and adoration for the one friend that possesses your happiness since you were little. He's so sweet to have never withheld it from you but you know it depends on him. You could cry just meeting his pretty eyes looking back at you with as much fondness as your heart feels.

You’re getting too sappy, it’s ridiculous. You gather it comes from the pace, nice but not high enough to have you two focused entirely on the pleasure. Therefore you proceed to mix it up as much as your body would allow you. Switching the speed, the movements, rotating your hips instead of rising them, going back to jumping on it, just guiding yourself by his reactions, the quiet curses, the kneading of your flesh under his hands, the wincing of his features. He’s so hot. So sexy. You can’t keep your eyes off of him. You don’t even deliberately control your hips anymore. It’s just your body following closely Jungkook's advice. Doing whatever feels good.

“Guk, I’m close.” His eyes which had been closed for the past few minutes from the deep grinding of your hips against his pelvis suddenly shoot open. They’re not soft nor gentle anymore. All dark and intense again.

He grabs your face in his hand, the thumb digging in your left cheek as the rest of his fingers press the other one. Pressing his mouth hard to yours he asks, “Will you come for more?” He's harsh, voice severe as he doesn't speak but growl, sending an electric jolt to your spine. Soon the idea that there might be even more hidden wherever that Jungkook comes from is sending liquid fire to your cunt.

“Yes, yes, I will!” You gasp, blinking a tear down your cheek. He notices it and let his grip on your face to wipe it away. You’re about to come. You’re so fucking close. You can tell the ball of your orgasm has reached its maximum size, it just needs something, one little something to burst and annihilate everything else. “Why?” His hand is back to the side of your face, not rigid like before instead warmly cupping it. Eyes searching for yours, he presses, “Why is that? Baby, tell me please.”

“Cause you’re so goo-uh”

“Me or my cock?” He chuckles against your hair and you wonder how the fuck he has enough brains left to make jokes, when he’s that deep inside of you and must be, has to be, as close as you are.

“B-both” That makes him laugh again, that same mean chortle.

“Yes,” He’s moaning it so languidly. He relishes in the idea. “Shit- come here.” Jungkook presses down on your lower back, you follow leniently, like clay in his hands, laying entirely on top of him. He helps you raise your ass up higher and once you meet the perfect position to take it, he starts thrusting upward hard, slowly but brutally, each time you can hear the loup clap of his hips against your skin, you’re pretty sure it’s going to hurt tomorrow but for now, it feels fabulous.

It’s so rough and it feels like you’ve been going at it forever. The girth is dragging the ring of your hole along with the movement and that stimulation alone is electrifying. You’re almost there.

“Tell me- talk to me,” Desperation is laced closely to his tone now. It fits him so well, you're loving it. “Tell me y-you’ll come back to me for m-more, please.” He’s losing it, you can hear it in his tremble, his cute stutter. And the grunts he’s leaving between each needy word sound animalistic.

“I will, Jungkook.” It comes out before you even get to think the confession over. But as it does, you realize you mean them entirely. “I’ll always come back, you just, ah, you fuck me so well. So fucking good, your big cock always-” A particularly strong thrust, resembling more of a spasm, pushes a new tear down your cheek. “fills me up so good, you- no one has ever-“

“Fuck. No one has ever what?”

“Fucked me this good, shit.” Shockingly enough it’s your own words, filterless, genuine and born from the fabulous heat of this moment, that suffice to push your orgasm to the edge and make it explode and invade your whole being, body and mind. You don’t even take notice when Jungkook ends up coming, blinded and rendered deaf by your own pleasure.

It's when your erratic heart starts to calm down, and your muscles to relax, melting calmly into Jungkook’s body who’s welcoming you so kindly, not complaining about the heat or the weight or the stickiness, you gather he came too.

It’s incredible this sensation. Not that you’re proud of it but being taken over by pleasure so much so to render you selfish and clueless of your every surrounding, even your lover, it’s never happened before. You wonder if that’s not the precise reason why none of your before-Jungkook orgasms can compare.

As you land back safely on his chest, you're only granted a few minutes with his agitated heart beating under your cheek and his comforting warmth before your surroundings reappear to you, obnoxiously reminding themselves to existence. “Oh my god, Jimin!” You whisper yell in a theatrical gasp. It just makes Jungkook laugh. This moron.

“S’fine, he has Eun to discuss it with.” You raise up, fighting the fatigue, just to glare at him. It's the same stupid argument as last time. Except this time, it's so fucking worse. You still don't get how casual he can be about this. “I don’t care. Do you?”

a/n : Phew. That was a big chunk. If you made it this far, i thank you immensely. I’m sorry if the editing is a bit off, i’ve been looking at this piece of work for too long and my head is torturing me so yea, soz. What did you think? Tell me all your thoughts!! There’s still one chapter to go (but i don’t know when it’ll be up - i have other little spooky projects to attend to, i hope you guys don’t mind). ANYWAY. A beautiful week-end to you guys, kisses, love & 🍗🍜. :)

tag list : @lavscenery @busansgloss @batakookie @jwlmnbt @somewhereinthestarss @amanda-deann @feminist-goddess

[localmagicalboi]

✨ local unfriendly black hottie.

— PEOPLE I’D LIKE TO KNOW BETTER !

———  BASICS! ♡

name! ♡     rae or diren or i don’t care, im gonna pull a prince and turn my name into a symbol u can’t even pronounce. dont perceive me. im holy and gorgeous. pronouns! ♡     i dont!!!! give a shit zodiac sign! ♡     capricorn sun, leo moon, leo rising, scorpio venus. we’re mean over here! we have ego! we dress very well! and we love it! taken or single! ♡     engaged to this dumbass  fuckwagon ~> @notevenjupiter​ <~ that’s the dumbass fuckwagon in question.

———  THREE  FACTS! ♡

1! ♡     not to toot my own horn ( tooooooooooooot ) but i really am that bitch at music. flute, piccolo, clarinet, oboe, saxophone. by saxophones i mean the only ones that matter, the tenor and the baritone. no offense to alto sax players out there but r u aware that ur playing a police siren. french horn, trombone, sousaphone, all the keyboards. im talkin marimba, vibraphone, tubular bells, glockenspiel. snare drum, bass drum, quads, timpani. ur other percussion but who cares about that unless ur a big ass fan of the bongos. or gongs.

i only fiddle on the piano these days tho no more of that for me. i am, tho, working on my digital production! buy my beat tape when i drop it in the year 2038. i havent opened the files for it since 2017 and i think that’s very sexy of me!

2! ♡    i know over 100 kinds of flowers and plants by appearance, alone. i was captain of the floriculture team against my will! however i kept up my studies and i keep myself sharp on the flower world™ for some reason. who knows. guess ill open a greenhouse. sell nothin but venus flytraps

call that the trap house

ba dum tsssssss.

3! ♡     i can lift about 200Ibs. don’t be fooled by my selfies, i’m actually built like a tank glkfjglkdfjgdflgdf. i once broke someone’s nose in one punch. contemplated going to wrestling school but my sensitive side said ‘u should…… do art or music or something……’

bonus fact! ♡ i used to run an improv comedy club in middle school! doing stuff that’s basically ‘whose line is it anyway’ except we werent as funny and we were inexperienced since we were... kids lol. but it taught me a lot on being creative and cohesive on the spot. speaking of improv i wrote an entire, plot hole free novel with a friend using two notebooks and our free time for fun. we had our characters and the basics with what we wanted. one of us would write like 5 pages, pass the notebook to the other during lunch, and then back-forth like that. ‘til we were done.

———  EXPERIENCE! ♡

platforms used! ♡     currently? tumblr. overall? i’m not going back to 2001 to list off all the horrible forums, shoutout to aol babey,

———  MUSE  PREFERENCE! ♡

gender! ♡   female muses, actually! :/// hmu @ deadblush my daughter deserves love.

least favourite face(s)! i never wanna see jake gyllenhaal dopey lookin ass ever again

multi or single! ♡   single. i need a one solid, streamlined motif and focus.

fluff / angst / smut! ♡    

fluff:  yeah sure! but it has to have comedy in it or something, ya bih get bored

angst:   yeah! but it has to be angst with a reason??? i dont like that angst for the sake of angst, lets give it an anchor and a reason for existing pls.

smut :   sure thing babey but vi hasnt had a sex in like 84 years so who’s gonna smang him

plot / memes! ♡   im gonna be honest, i dont like memes because a lot of people dont know how to make them work. you end up with like 6-10 replies in to a thread w. no solid location and its like? lol. and my muse is too erratic for plots. i dont like being tethered to plots either, not when my muse is unpredictable as fuck. i like on-the-fly, on-the-go improv. we have a solid location, a solid motive to start with, and we improvise from there. either learn how to keep up or dont.

✨ TAGGED BY: i stole it :) ✨ TAGGING: im lazy so anyone that wanna do it

[ohnojustimagine]

Born to Rule

Drew McIntyre/Reader; smuttyish fluff, 780 words

-

Losses always hit Drew hard, but you know this one in particular has to have really hurt. You'd heard the talk, and he was considered pretty much odds-on favorite to win the whole tournament, become the newest (and, in your opinion, most deserving) King of the Ring, so to not only lose in the first round, but to lose to Ricochet, of all people... you can't even imagine how Drew must be feeling right now.

So you don't push him, sitting beside him in silence in the car, after the show. He's frowning, obviously deep in thought, one hand on the steering wheel as he stares straight ahead. Drew might tend to brood, but he doesn't dwell fruitlessly, preferring to deal with disappointment by making plans for revenge, and you know he's considering all his options for appropriate retribution.

It's a long drive tonight, so it's almost 2AM by the time you reach the hotel, and when you finally make it up to your room, Drew heads straight into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

You sigh, aware that you can only give him the time and space he needs, but you still want to hope that you can please him, and so you change into that black silk babydoll you know he loves, the one with the lace edges, and sit on the end of the bed, waiting.

He emerges in just his underwear, and though you (and the rest of the world) might see him wearing less than that every night in the ring, the sight of his body still sends a quietly heated thrill through you; the sheer perfection of him forever something to behold.

He looks you up and down with a vague, ill-defined hunger and for a second you think he's going to just take you, like he mostly does, but instead he seems to consciously stop himself, sitting down beside you. His pale eyes are still clouded, exhaustion etched over his face, expression unmasked and vulnerable in a way that he only ever allows you to see, and even then only rarely.

You heart could break for him, but you take his hand, so big it almost dwarfs your own as you thread your fingers through his, holding on tightly. "Sorry," you say, gently. "I know it meant a lot to you, the tournament."

"It did," he replies. "But thank you."

"For what?" you ask.

"For understanding."

You squeeze his hand, and for a long minute, neither of you speak. But something has begun to shift in the air between you, a burden easing, and you know that it will all be okay. Not yet, you think, but soon.

"You know you're my king, right?" you say.

He laughs at that, the sound of it like music. "Oh, I'd never doubt that for a second," he says, smiling at you, lighter now, and he pulls you over into his lap, wrapping his arms around you as you snuggle into his embrace with a sigh of relieved contentment.

"You did look pretty good," you tell him. "Before the match, trying out the throne like that, with the scepter and all." You kiss his cheek, inhaling the smell of his skin. "Very majestic."

"Majestic?" he asks.

"Yeah," you reply. "Like you were born to it, born to rule over everyone."

"Well, I am," he says, and you know he means it, and you love that; his ego, his brashness.

"You are," you agree. "But to be honest, in the moment all I could think about was blowing you while you sat on the throne."

"Really now," he croons at you, sly amusement in his voice.

"Really." You nod, moving your lips closer to his ear, lowering your voice to a husky whisper. "You sitting there, wearing the crown and the robe, holding the scepter like it was a weapon." You hear him breathe in, and you go on. "Me kneeling in front of you, all trembling before your kingliness while you commanded me to suck your royal cock."  

"I do like the sound of that," he murmurs.

You sit back enough to look at him, wide-eyed and pouting. "Though I don't know if I'd be worthy of serving the king like that, me being just a lowly peasant girl and all."

"A peasant?" Drew scoffs. "Hardly. I think you'd be a lady of some standing." He gives you an affectionate little smirk. "Quite refined, I'm sure."

"Not too refined, I hope?" you say, raising your eyebrows at him, and he grins.

"Not where it counts."

You laugh, happily, and kiss him, playfully denying, your tongue licking at his mouth, teeth nipping his bottom lip. "Then fuck me, your majesty," you growl.

He stands up, lifting you with him and you wrap your legs around him as he says, "It would be an honor, my lady."

[omgrachwrites]

Ocean Avenue (Bucky Barnes)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

Summary: When Darcie Baker - the daughter of a police officer -  breaks her misfit friend’s heart at 16 she regrets it everyday even  after she graduates though she knows she can’t go back and change what  happened. Everything changes when over 10 years later she meets the  gorgeous mechanic.

Warnings: little bit of fluff, angst, possible trigger warning: illness

Words: 2370

A/N: So sorry for all the angst! Also, I’m getting serious Hal Carter vibes from Bucky in this lol! I hope you guys enjoy this part and please let me know what you think! I love you all very much! xxx

Twelve years later

Bucky Barnes attempted to blink the sweat out of his eyes, cursing when instead the salty liquid dribbled down into his tear ducts, making his eyes burn incessantly. Pulling himself out from underneath the hood of the car that he was working on he rubbed the sweat out of his eyes, probably smearing grease all over his face in the process. He spotted his bottle of water on his cluttered desk and gulped a lot of it down to try and relieve himself from the blazing summer sun. The water was warm and it tasted a little dirty but it was enough, Bucky poured the rest of the water over himself, sighing in relief as he pushed his damp hair out of his face.

“Y’know,” Steve started, snickering as he leaned against the door frame, one foot crossed over the other, “you really shouldn’t do that whole routine with the water when your fan club is watching intently,” he smirked, discreetly jerking his thumb to point at the house across the street.

Bucky turned to look over at the house and sure enough Gemma – a pretty girl who was going into her final year of college – and her mom were sitting on their front porch gawking at Bucky. Though, Bucky didn’t mind, it helped to boost his ego, not that it needed much boosting if he was being honest with himself.

Both Bucky and Steve lived in New York City since they left the army but they started up their car repair shop in the suburbs just outside of the city, thinking they’d get more business. They had been right, business was booming, they were doing extremely well for themselves.

Bucky rolled his eyes at his best friend, “I think that Gemma’s mom is more into you than she is into me,” he chuckled when Steve’s eyes grew comically wide. Bucky plastered on his charming winning smile, thick dark strands falling in front of his eyes as he raised his hand in a wave at the two women, “hey there ladies!” he fought back a smirk when they visibly swooned. Bucky was used to that – even though it was extremely arrogant for him to admit it and he knew it.

Gemma took Bucky’s greeting as a signal to walk over the road to the garage, an ice cold glass of lemonade in her hand, Bucky noticed there was just one lone glass, “oh, here we go,” Bucky muttered to Steve out of the corner of his mouth. Gemma was a sweet girl but she was too full on at times.

“Bucky! Hey!” she grinned, blushing as she sauntered over, “my mom and I thought that you might be thirsty, it’s a hot day,” she handed the glass over and Bucky took a tentative sip of it, it was sweet, delicious and refreshing.

“This is really good, I’ll be sure to share it with Steve, thank you,” he teased but Gemma still looked embarrassed as she played with the ends of her ginger hair.

“There’s something that I wanted to ask you,” she paused, gnawing on her bottom lip as she collected her thoughts, “I go back to college soon and I was just wondering whether you would like to go see a movie sometime?” she asked hopefully, shrugging as her cheeks almost glowed with the intensity of her blush.

Bucky opened his mouth but no sound came out of it as his mind went blank, he didn’t think that it was a good idea but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. He sighed, looking her in the eyes, “Gemma I,” thankfully he was cut off by the bell ringing in the garage signalling that someone was waiting in the shop, “I have to go and get that.”

Steve stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder, “don’t you worry buddy, I’ll go and get it for you, you two talk,” he smirked at him as Bucky shot Steve the filthiest look that he could muster before he turned back to the young woman in front of him.

“Look, Gemma, I think that you’re really great but I don’t think the two of us going on a date is such a good idea. We’re much better off as friends don’t you think?” he put it as delicately as he could because he could see that her eyes were getting teary and the hopeful look on her face quickly turned into a disappointed one, “besides, I’m sure that there are guys in college that could make you very happy.”

“There are,” she admitted as she nodded sadly, “but none of them are you,” she chewed her lip again, “but I respect your decision, thank you for not being an asshole about it. I just wanted to ask so I’d know for sure how you felt.”

Bucky was about to apologise but he was cut off by a girlish giggle and a voice that he kind of recognised but he couldn’t place where he had heard it before.

“I’m so sorry that I didn’t recognise you Steve! You just look a lot different now compared to what you looked like back in high school,” the woman was saying. Steve let out a deep chuckle and Bucky turned to see who had accompanied Steve into the garage.

Bucky’s blood ran cold and his eyes nearly popped out of his head when he realised who the woman was with Steve. He barely registered it when Gemma bade him goodbye and she walked back home. She wasn’t blonde anymore – that was the first thing that Bucky noticed – where her hair used to be golden blonde it was now a slight reddish brown. It reminded Bucky of the gorgeous vibrant colour the leaves changed to in the fall.

Her ice grey eyes were soft and full of warm laughter as she spoke to Steve. However, something changed in them when her gaze landed on Bucky, it was surprise mixed with another emotion that Bucky couldn’t quite decipher. Maybe it was regret. Her strawberry tinted lips opened just a fraction as her eyes looked Bucky up and down. They had both come a long way from hanging out secretly at the beach.

She didn’t really look much different, maybe she was even more beautiful but Bucky pushed that thought to the back of his mind. Just the memory of him putting his whole heart into kissing her when she couldn’t care less left a bitter taste in the back of his throat.

“Look who it is Buck,” Steve said somewhat nervously as he gestured at Darcie who was wearing doctor’s scrubs.

“Hey Bucky,” she smiled warmly at him, moving a lock of hair out of her face, “you’re looking well, it’s good to see you,” her voice was soft and kind but Bucky wasn’t letting her off that easy.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest, ignoring the looks of shock and hurt that flashed across her face.

“My friend came here to get spare tires and he did me a favor by putting my car in to be repaired, he said that this was the best place. It’s a red Audi,” she bit her lip nervously; “I didn’t know that this was your shop, if I did then I wouldn’t have come here.”

Bucky ignored the sting that her words gave him and he turned away from her, walking to the other side of the garage, “it’s not finished yet, I’ve been busy. You’re not my only customer you know,” he was just being petty now; he’d finished working on her car. He’d finished it a couple of days ago in fact.

He turned back to face her, scrubbing a hand through his hair, “so you’re a doctor now?” he gestured at her scrubs, “was all that sacrificed worth it?” he asked viciously, “it seems like it was; you even have a new hair colour and everything.”

“Bucky, I’m sorry, I really am sorry but what happened between us happened twelve years ago, we were just kids! Please can we just let it go?” she pleaded with him, “I know that I hurt you,” she finished quietly.

“Pah, you didn’t hurt me! I saw it coming,” he was much too proud to admit how hurt he had felt, how hurt he still was, “how’s your dear old dad by the way? Is he still an asshole?” Bucky’s smirk faltered just a little bit as Darcie’s eyes got glassy and he was in the frame of mind to apologise to her.

“Buck,” Steve started in a warning tone, Darcie smiled at him, laying a hand on his bicep.

“It’s okay Steve, you can’t pick your friends I guess,” she shrugged, “I’m surprised that you’re competent enough to run your own business Barnes. I always thought that you were a good for noth-“

“Right! Darc, I’m giving you a ride back to the hospital since you have no car,” Steve clapped his hands, effectively cutting her off; it was obvious that he was hating the conflict.

“Your car will be ready on the fourteenth of never!” Bucky childishly shouted after Darcie’s retreating back, he needed to get the last word in.

“Bucky!” came Steve’s angry reply.

It was like it was a completion to see who could hurt who the most.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

After Steve had dropped Darcie back off at the hospital she walked into the locker room to pull off her scrubs and get changed for dinner with her parents. Steve was just as sweet as he had been in high school; she made a mental note to introduce him to her friend Peggy. Darcie’s mom had called her earlier in the day to tell her that her dad was having another one of his bad days and to think twice about going over there for dinner. However, Darcie ignored this advice; she really wanted to see her dad.

She pulled open her locker door to grab her clothes and she chanced a glance at her reflection in the mirror. She released her hair from its ponytail, letting it cascade around her shoulders in messy curls. Her eyes looked more tired today because she didn’t even have the time to put just a little bit of makeup on. Also, her surprise run in with Bucky didn’t help either; she hated how good he looked.

She sighed at her reflection, pinching her cheeks to bring some colour back into her skin before slamming her locker door shut and she left the locker room.

“Home girl, is that you?” Darcie heard a yelling coming from the corridor behind her and she turned at the sound of the loud voice, grinning when she saw who it was.

“Sam, hey!” he giggled as she threw her arms around her best friend, “good to see that you made the transfer okay!”

“Yeah,” he grinned, “I’m super stoked to be working in the same hospital as you; you look great by the way. Are you going on a date?” he smirked wiggling his eyebrows and she burst out laughing at how stupid he looked.

“I’m having dinner at my parents place tonight.”

Sam’s face fell at her words and he looked a little bit regretful, “sorry honey. How is your dad?” he asked, “is he okay?”

Darcie shrugged before she replied, trying to keep the mood light, “no not really but he’s getting there,” she really hoped the words that she spoke was true.

When Darcie walked into her parent’s living room she grinned at the sight of her dad sitting in his favourite chair, the one he always used to sit in when he read to her when she was a kid and perched on his lap. He looked well; she didn’t know what her mom was talking about when she said that he was having one of his bad days.

“Hey dad!” she bent down to kiss his stubbly cheek, “you look great today, how are you feeling?” her bright smile faltered when her dad looked up at her with a blank expression.

“Who are you?”

She willed herself not to cry, she hated crying especially since her dad had gotten ill, it felt like she was always crying, “it’s me Darcie dad, your daughter.”

“But, I don’t have a daughter,” he simply said, Darcie’s mom who had been watching this interaction shot Darcie an ‘I told you so’ look.

Dinner was nice that evening, Darcie’s dad seemed quite relaxed; he was talking about his day. Ever since he had got Alzheimer’s he thought that he still worked on the police force, the doctors said that it was a good sign that he had still retained those memories. Though, he couldn’t remember his own daughter.

Everyone was happy until Darcie’s mom spoke up, “I heard that Bucky Barnes recently came back to town, started up a car repair shop and everything. Really turned himself around.”

At the mention of Bucky’s name her dad’s face soured, “he’s trouble that Bucky Barnes. People should stay away from that boy.”

Darcie’s heart lurched in her chest and she placed her fork down on the table, not feeling very hungry anymore, “you remember Bucky dad?” she asked, it was painful to know that he didn’t remember her today but he remembered Bucky.

“He’s hard to forget.”

Later on, the fire was blazing even though it was the height of summer, Darcie’s dad was sitting in his chair and she was reading to him. She was reading a passage from his favourite book, ‘A Clash of Kings,’ the book that the second season of Game of Thrones was based upon. Her dad was really enjoying it though he had forgotten that it was his favourite, he liked being read to. Darcie stopped in her reading when her dad gave her an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry that I don’t know who you are. Sometimes I forget things,” he shook his head sadly, looking down at the fluffy cream carpet.

Darcie’s bottom lip wobbled as she leaned forward and took her dad’s hands in hers and kissed his knuckles, “I know dad, its okay. I love you.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------- 

@void-imaginations @marvelellie @theonelittleone @dreamacoholic @thesswintersoldier @harryngtonewithyourshit @iamariotgrrl

[dezembergirl]

Zweisamkeit

Well, I couldn’t help myself. This was one heck of a 2. Season and I miss these two very much. So here is my take on what happened after the last episode (lots of Winterberg fluff and angst). Read on ao3 or continue down here.

(I would love to write the Valentine’s Day date we missed out on, if anyone has suggestions pleeeease tell me.

Mia had had a mess of a day, a hell of a week - as in literal hell. And judging by the shadows around Alex’s eyes he hadn’t fared much better. So maybe it came as no surprise at all that the very Friday night she had wanted to spend celebrating Sam’s birthday, had ended in Alexander’s bed with more tears than could be healthy for anyone’s hydration levels.

The past two weeks, in particular, had left their marks. Mia knew what depression felt like and this had been too close for comfort. She’d spent days in bed without ever sleeping and as a result, the fatigue had reduced her to wallowing mess. And every time she’d seen Alex things had spiraled downwards at an increased speed.

It had confused her to no end. Mia had prided herself on her ability to read others, Alex in particular. Having him break things off because of a business course in London that wouldn’t start until late summer, had made no sense at all. Or maybe it had, maybe this - whatever this was between them - had never mattered to him enough. Once that thought had occurred to her, it stuck. It stuck so well that she couldn’t decide if she missed Alex or wanted to punch him. A serious punch, with real power behind it. Right into his perfect jaw, the very one she had kissed and traced with her fingers over only weeks ago.

Alex had lain ruin to enough of her morals, and violence was the one thing she strictly refrained from. Sadly, punching the douchebag - because kissing was very much out of the picture now - did not qualify as self-defense.

Maybe forcing him to interact with her was the only way forward? So she had typed out more than one message only to delete them all before pressing send.

Fuck London, fuck the business course, fuck Björn, fuck our parents, fuck you, did not make for a compelling counterargument. What was she even arguing against? Alex’s broken ego or her own bitter and hurt pride?

On Thursday evening, Hannah had once again proven to be the type of best friend every girl should have at least one of. She had talked to Sam, both of the Sams actually. One had agreed to celebrate her birthday with Mia with a breakfast date next Monday, and the other had revealed Alex to be enjoying his new found freedom in the skating park most evenings.

IIF YOU DON’T TELL HIM YOU LOVE HIM, ILL KEY HIS STUPID CAR AND DO IT MYSELF, Hannah had written in all caps.

Love, the very word Mia had been pushing far, far away since Alex had become more than the stereotypical, arrogant asshole deriving to school in a Porsche. She was afraid, scared to death if she was honest. Mia had never considered herself in love before, infatuated sure, but never love. The notion that this was what tied her to Alex scared the living crap out of her.

Now that he had called it quits, confessing her deepest feelings seemed absurd. She hated how vulnerable it would make her, leave her entire flank exposed. But then, she also knew that Alex was not just another in a (very short) row of people she had kissed. He was the person that crept into her dreams and invaded her mind with memories of his voice and laughter. He had set up camp in her heart permanently, without the 50 euro per night fee. That’s why she’d rather not know if he didn’t feel the same way. Ignorance was bliss, she had told herself.

But ignorance was not a concept Mia could tolerate for long. It had taken her the entire day but once she had set a foot outside her apartment the doubts shrunk with every step and kept to the back of her mind. She opted to walk instead of taking the bus and the cold air made her face numb and sensitive all at the same time. She’d make him listen and tell him the whole truth. He had to see reason, wouldn’t he?

Her hands had grown into ice around the bottles of soda she’d brought when the door to the skateboarding hall had finally opened to reveal Alex’s unmistakable frame. He had looked sad and as miserable as she had felt but he had listened. The reluctance and how he had leaned away from her whenever possible had made her heart stutter and tears rise in her eyes. But she had hit something within him and the cold and indifferent eyes had grown wide with both relief and what was unmistakably love. And kissing him had never tasted sweeter.

Really, fuck you Timbuktu.

-

Ah yes, the tears.

They had kissed and hugged until the February air had penetrated their heated skin hidden under layers of wool. He had taken her to his car and Mia had never been more relieved to see the sleek leather inside of his Porsche.

She’d kept her hand across the center console toying with his right hand on the way home. It was, in fact, the first time she had agreed to enter the Porsche on the passenger seat. Alex did have a few years head start when it came to navigating his way through Berlin and she was in no state to drive. The stupid smile he couldn’t hide, she caught Alex press his lips together in an effort to keep them from rising up into a ridiculous grin. She hadn’t seen him this happy since the few days of bliss that had been the semester holidays. His cheeks were pink and the warmth in his eyes when he looked over made her insides twist and heat up in the most delicious ways. So much so that by the time he had parked them in front of his apartment building, her eyes were swimming in tears.

Alex swiped his thumb across her cheeks before unlocking the door. They lingered in the frame until he placed a kiss to her forehead and the look they shared spoke volumes. I love you had been the easy part. Love couldn’t erase the past week and both of them knew it. This would be a long, long night.

"Please don’t ever do this to me again,“ said Mia. She had curled up on the living room couch while Alex poured hot chocolate into mugs. The fridge provided an ominous background noise that stretched the silence between them. "I know that this,“ she gestured in Alex general direction „Will take work, so much work. But I can’t take the silence. It wasn’t fair and no matter how shitty things get we have to find a way to communicate that.“

Alex stopped inches from where she was sitting. The chocolate swayed precariously in the mugs as he sat them on the table. He didn’t sit down, but fixed her with his eyes and Mia knew this was not the moment to avert her gaze, no matter how heated her cheeks got.

"I am sorry, you know that. If I could go back and change how things played out, I would. I never set out to hurt you, not intentionally.“

Mia swallowed around the lump in her throat. The raw earnestness in his words tucked at her heart in the most painful ways. O,h how she wished they could jump past this to cuddles and kisses and waking up in the same bed. She should have brought the whole box of tissues, the tears were already announcing their return.

"There are many things I regret, and I think you do too,“ Alex sat, far enough away for another person to squeeze between them. "But if there is one thing I’ve taken away from it, it’s that honesty isn’t optional; not If we want to make this work. And in honesty, I would have probably reacted the same way again. That doesn’t make it right but it’s true nevertheless. Before you, there was no one who relied on me, who expected things. I’ve disappeared before, multiple times, and Sam knew the rough outlines so it was never a problem.“

"It is now,“ Mia toyed with the handle of her mug.

"Yes, it is. In reality, it always has been. And this is me telling you that I’m aware that it’s an issue. I will work on it. I have an appointment with my old psychologist on Tuesday. But it won’t be a quick fix, not by a long shot“

"So what if it happens again?“

"I will talk to Sam,“ Alex had started twisting his rings and his foot tapping made the couch vibrate ever so slightly. Mia wished she could pull him towards her and hug him tight for the next hour. Physical actions seemed so much easier because words were complicated and they hurt.

"I don’t intend for this to happen again, but I’ll give you my parents’ numbers. They are not the warmest people but after Sophie, they won’t turn you away. I know it’s not the perfect solution. But if this means as much to you as it does to me, I want you to know that this is not an empty promise. And I have to hope that it’s enough.“

"Thank you,“ Mia put the mug back down and reached for Alex's hand instead. It felt hot against her skin and when she squeezed it he closed his fingers around hers. "Thank you for giving us a chance. I felt so so stupid, but you breaking up with me hurt so much more than I wanted it to. And part of it is my fault. I was never totally honest, not to you and not with myself. The first time things got hard with Kikki, I was ready to run and I did. So, as much as I hated what you did, I can’t blame just you.“

They stared at each other in silence. Mia’s heart raced in her chest and Alex looked as close to tears as she felt. He exhaled and nodded for her to continue. "I didn’t listen to you after you resurfaced. Part of it was revenge I think and the other part fear. I don’t understand physical violence. I know why you did it and I can’t fault you for it now but then it felt like a betrayal. I couldn’t look at you without hearing you crack Björns ribs and I wasn’t brave enough to hear your side of the story regardless.“

Mia swiped away a stray tear and scooted closer to Alex. "Just like the butterfly effect really. We made minor mistakes and things spiraled out of control so quickly. I hope you can forgive me, I know I forgive you,“ she squeezed his hands again and looked up to find a tear making its way down his cheek. "I love you, so so much, and for now that is enough. I’m sure of that.“

"Of course I forgive you,“ Alex said and pulled her even closer and Mia felt his whole frame tremble as he did. They ended up hard hugging half spooning on the couch. "I love you,“ he traced the shell of her ear with his nose. "I love you, I love you so much.“

He kissed the parts of her face he could reach and Mia felt the warmth from his body overpower her own. With her head against his chest and her arms wound around his torso, the tears fell again. But Alex kept tracing circles on her back and pressing kisses to her temple and hair. Words hurt but pain could be cathartic. Mia felt a million times better no as if the thing that had slowly broken and splinter over the past week had been restored to its untouched state. The most important things were out in the open and as long as they had the truth between them things would work out.

Time slowed or increased tenfold, Mia couldn’t tell. But after a while, Alex’s movements had seized and her sobs had given way to the humming of the fridge. She felt his chest rise and fall in turn with his breaths. Just when she was sure he had fallen asleep Mia suddenly found herself being flipped over and off the couch. Before she could even register the impact - softened by the plush carpet covering his living room floor - Alex was already celebrating his victory, on his hands and knees hovering above her with his chest was heaving.

"I got you this time, no sleeping on the couch in my house,“ he had positioned his face inches above her own.

"On the carpet then?“ Mia tilted her head up but he pulled away before their noses could touch. "Doesn’t seem very Mr. - how rich exactly are you - Hardenberg. Or maybe on the hardwood, like a commoner?“

"You’re not in a position to taunt, Miss Winter,“ he clicked his tongue before moving on to her right ear and whispering in a voice, so low it made her hairs stand on end. "You have been compromised." Alex's lips moved against the shell of her ear. They weren’t kisses exactly but Mia suddenly felt very aware of just how close his body was. His chest hovered inches above her own and his breaths were fire against her temple. She couldn’t take much more, every fiber of muscle was pulled taught and her whole body hummed with anticipation.

Mia moved her hand, ready to close the distance but he shook his head. "Ah-ahh, so you do admit defeat? You will have to say the words, otherwise, it won’t count.“ He was still unbearably close to her ear and with every syllable enunciated to the max, goosebumps spread from her chest outwards, leaving her skin tingling. "Do you yield your rights to the couch?“

"No,“ she looked him dead in the eyes and for a moment she feared he had frozen and would keep her in this position forever. But Just as quickly his pupils dilated and the mischief was crackling in his eyes.

"I see,“ the corners of his lips twitched and before Mia could brace herself he had attacked her stomach. She gasped for air between laughter and half hysterical screams as he proceeded to tickle every inch of bare skin he could reach. Every attempt to block her body from his hands failed as he was kneeling above with her legs locked between his. The sensory input threatened to prove too much and when Alex finally relented Mia was panting beneath him.

She squinted away the tears that had leaked from her eyes, her chest heaving as she caught her breath; oh yes, even more tears. She would have to double her 2 liter water intake tomorrow.

Above her, Alex was running his hands through his hair, somehow managing to increase its volume even more. The dark spots under his eyes were still visible but the flush spreading from his cheeks made him look less like a worn man and more like an innocent boy. He was beautiful, with his stupid hair, cheekbones worthy of their own spread in Vogue and eyes that could, on one hand, make her stomach lurch, and explode with butterflies the next second. Now, they were fixed on her face, tracing her features from hairline to chin and finally landing on her own. 

"Are you alright?“ Alex asked and she nodded "More than.“

Alex laid down next to her, propped on his side. He pushed stray strands of hair from her face before moving closer and touching his nose to hers with an amount of care that made her heart swell. But Mia, having recovered her heart rate and breathing, pressed her lips firmly together before he could fully close the gap.

Revenge, were revenge was due, she rolled herself on top of him and found that "Well Mr. I have 99 problems and money solves about half, you are quite susceptible to this kind of torture yourself.

Indeed, his abdominal muscles clenched and unclenched under her fingers and after several seconds of silent panting he couldn’t hold back the giggles any longer. Laughter proved to be a very potent drug, especially this late in the evening. Once they had started it was impossible to stop. Love couldn’t erase the trouble of the last weeks and laughter wouldn’t put Björn behind bars or bring Sophie back, but it made them remember how happy they had been in this very apartment and how right it felt have that back.

The giggles bubbled from her lips with an ease she wouldn’t have thought possible this morning, and only subsided when her obliques ached from exhaustion. By then, Alex had put his arms around her and pulled her to his chest.

She would hug him close and never let go, Mia decided at that moment. Future Mia’s spine would likely protest the choice (or lack of thereof) of a mattress but right there, snug in his arms, she couldn’t care less for how sore her back would be in the morning. At least the living room carpet should offer her a discount on the 50 Euro a night Hardenberg Suite.

Mia fell asleep to the sound of Alex’s breaths evening out and his chin tucked against her hairline. 

[multiphandomunnies]

Stripper!Taeyong

Admin: Mirae A/N: This isnt smut or anything but I had this idea in my head and I wanted to write it down, enjoy! Warnings: NONE Genre: Fluff? Mature themes mentioned

The thought of being a stripper was never something that crossed Taeyongs mind

Even when he was in desperate times and needed money

He always thought getting more jobs and cutting back o things was the solution 

Until his good friend Ten mentioned it

When Ten needed money he got another job as a stripper and things have been smove sailing since then

Taeyong thought about it before he went with Ten one night t see what he did

After that Taeyong applied and got the job

The first few times of him doing so he felt weird, expose himself for people's pleasure wasn't something he had ever done

But he was good at it

Many people came to see him

he didn't give lap dances or meet with people in private

He simply walked around and danced 

But that was enough to make people's desire for him go up 

Taeyong liked to see the look of want and need in people's eyes once they gazed upon him, it was a good ego booster

Many girls would hit on him and try to get his number but he turned every single one of them down, they all wanted him for his body and not his personality 

It made him feel a little lonely

Would he meet someone that liked him for him?

He went through a phase where he stopped talking to his friends and just stayed in his bed in the dark 

Ten had to drag him out and encourage him to come back to work 

Thats when Taeyong met you

While he was depressed and took a week off of work you had gotten a job there as a bartender 

The last bartender had been arrested 

All the workers seemed so nice and friendly, youd thought everyone would be mean and rude

If you were being honest it was a little intimidating seeing half naked guys all the time 

You had been curious about this person named Taeyong, you had not only heard your coworkers talk about him a lot but the customers

They would come in and then complain about how Taeyong wasn't there

When you heard Taeyong was coming back you were kinda excited  

“Hey Y/N! Did you miss me?” Ten asked as he slid into the stool in front of your bar

“How did you know?” you asked with a wink while cleaning off the bottles

Ten started to laugh softly at your words

“Oh Y/N, this is Taeyong, Taeyong this si Y/N,” Ten intorduced with a big smile

Taeyongs cheeks dusted a light pink when he saw you

You bit your lip and waved slowly “Nice to meet you Taeyong, ive heard a lot about you,” you softly spoke

“You too,”Taeyong said as he sat down in the seat next to Tens

Ten eyes darted back and forth between your figures before he gave a knowing smile

“Ill be right back,” he said as he stood up to leave

Taeyong stayed with you

You two had talked for what felt like hours before Jaehyun came out to yell at him to get ready, he had to make up for the time missed 

You still had a smile on your face once Taeyong left, something about that boy made your heart dance

Throughout the night you joined in on the customers gawking at him, he really could move well

The night went by as fast as it could

You were packing up some of your stuff would a hand tapped on your shoulder making you jump a little

“Oh Y/N i'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” Taeyongs melodic voice spoke

You smiled back at him “No it okay, whats up?” you asked trying to sound casual 

“Well I was wondering,,,,,would you like to get some coffee some time?” he rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he spoke 

“Id love that,” you said with a light giggle 

Taeyongs face burned bright red at your words “Oh,,,here is my number,” he said while handing you a small sip of white paper

You gladly took it from him and started to head ut

“Wait! Let me walk you to the bus.”

the end because I never know how to end these

[pendragonfics]

Retail Christmas Hell

Paring: Heimdall/Reader

Tags: female reader, but with gender neutral pronouns, supermarket AU, Christmas shopping, Christmas Eve, swearing, fluff. 

Summary: Reader works at the local grocery store. Her manager, Thor Odinson, hires a handful of security guards to make sure his workers are safe in the silly season chaos.

Word Count: 1,803

Posting Date:  2016-12-16

Current Date: 2017-05-31

Christmastime was a month of furious soccer mothers, kids stealing candies, vengeful elderly people who were known usually to be sweet and comely, and generally, lines that went out the door as far as the eye could see. To be honest, it never phased you, seeing as the more people who came through your register, kept you busy and on your feet, the faster time went and the closer it was until knock off.

Odinson's Food Market was known for its fresh produce and friendly smiles, but when you had to put up with screaming babies and the bossing around of customers who wanted bags packed a certain way, the last thing you were thinking of, to be frank, was smiling at the assholes who left their food shopping to the last minute and were in a rush like there was no tomorrow.

You weren't sure how the store was handling it; Tony who stacked the shelves said they were too busy to breathe as the people would practically wipe the canned food and things into their carts as soon as he stacked it. Your manager, Thor was always on his feet trying to sort out altercations and mixups with prices and hormonal adults arguing over the last watermelon on sale. Even Clint, who ran the little deli in the side of the store said he was in over his head with orders for hams and turkeys and such.

In short, Christmastime was retail hell. 

But, it was money, and you needed just that to get out of the hell at home to rent an apartment as far away as you could from your terrible family as you could, and maybe, just maybe go to higher education so those who came after you in your bloodline weren't doomed to repeat history. This dream was that which kept your fake smile on, hands without cramps, and tolerance to the shoddy customers higher than that of a saint. 

So far, the end of November and the better half of December had been a madhouse, with everyone coming in and grabbing their long life items, stocking up on decorations and fairy lights for their trees, on their holiday foods. Now, nearing the day itself, it seemed to be busier twofold than you'd ever seen it in your time here at Odinson's Food Market. Lines were larger. Ambience louder. The faraway echo of a howling child nearing in the pram, pushed by the nuclear family about to go nuclear if they did't buy the right sort of Parmesan. 

It was a Tuesday when Thor Odinson decided, that he would use his father's funds to do something more than advertise for the little store with. It was a Tuesday when he hired five security guards from the privately owned company called ASGARSHIELD. As someone who only went to school because your parents were sick of having kids around their feet at home, you weren't really from a background where you'd seen many security guards. Maybe the ones in the bank who scowled over their shades indoors to make sure you didn't make a heist while they were on guard, or even the policemen, sure, but never these people.

Nat, Phil, Heimdall, Sam and Maria started that day, standing at the entrance to the store to ward off evil with their professional glares, to break up quarrels before they began. Nat and Maria never talked, always staying in their spot, watching out with near superhuman vision. Phil was all business until he made friends with one of the other cashiers, Steve, yammering on about their mutual love for an old time-y comic character when (if) it got slow enough to talk. Sam stuck around inside, stalking the known shoplifters like a falcon, picking them up on stuffing lollies down their pants in the act. And Heimdall, the quiet, intrusive Heimdall, would watch the entrance at the end of your register. 

It took another Tuesday and a half for Heimdall to break his calm, collected shell; you noticed this well with your cashier eyes. When your friends had asked what 'cashier eyes' were, they'd laughed; that you had super-vision or something while on duty, noticing things about people or situations as to avoid major fallout and such. But with this very real, very handy super power of yours, you saw Heimdall watching you, as he always did for the last month, except, he was smiling. Just a little; not enough to show his teeth, but enough to know he had the muscles in his body to do so. 

"You alright, sir?" you ask him, leaning over the register booth to see him better. With five minutes without a customer, you were free to relieve yourself of the stresses of standing up for nine hours a day and those customers that backchat. "Look a little off in your head there."

Heimdall nodded. "Just been watching you, that's all." He frowns, gesturing to the family who had gone on their way. "How can you stand it, talking to people all day?"

You crack a smile at that, "Well, how can you stand it, standing there, watching people all day?" you ask back, staring into his dark eyes. "I've been doing this job for years now, it just sort of grows on you, and, well, after the first dozen angry customers, you try to make sure that the next person whose mood is down can be perked up a little bit." You glance to your side, and noticing a customer pushing their trolley into your bay, you give him a nod, and start the never-ending job once again. 

It was the Tuesday before Christmas, which, coincidentally, was the day before. It was the day from hell, and apart from your hair looking like literal crap, so was your mood, even though it was the same fake smile for every person who wanted things bagged a certain way. Maybe it was because the air conditioner slash heat was working overtime too and broke, or the fact that even Steve, the angel from above was having trouble with these literal demons buying four hundred dollars of empty carbs in their carts, but before you knew it, the icing on the cake was being laid out. 

He had bars in his brows and lips, and looked like he came from good breeding for every part of his DNA except for the manners that were as black as his soul and clothing. There was nothing nice about this guy; perhaps the only nice thing would be that he couldn't stay there bossing you around, calling you names. 

"I need those bottles double bagged, I've got a way to walk, you bitch," he hissed, barely glancing up from his Blackberry. Who even had a Blackberry, this was the modern ages, not 2006. "Fuck - not like that -," he tossed his phone into a pocket in his heavy greatcoat, and leaned over like the register bay was nothing between the pair of you. For a moment, your heart stopped, thinking he was going to throttle you, because well, he looked like he was high on something, and not just his ego. At once, he began to rip the bags from the rack, throwing them haphazardly into others. 

You glanced to Heimdall, but it seemed like he got the message before you sent it. At once, the man was upon the guy, pushing him back into his side of the register, where all the other customers were supposed to stand, and stay.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave," Heimdall intoned, voice monotonous like he was a secret service agent. 

At once, the punk guy stretched to full height, and cocked his head like he was ready to fight anyone and anything that stood in his way. "I'm just leaving. I need my stuff for Christmas, and I'll be off." He gritted. 

You stood there, stock still, heart racing like a little mouse caught in the crossfire of a cat and dog. Heimdall noticed you, or maybe he just knew everything that happened inside the places he was protecting, and crossed his arms. "I will not hesitate to remind you, sir, this establishment does not serve those who treat those working are slaves." His voice was not small, but booming, loud enough to be heard over the hubbub of the store. "You can take your business elsewhere."

The guy make a noise, somewhere between a grunt and a hiss, and marched off, mumbling something about 'the wrath of the Von Doom family' and something very rude, and unable to be mentioned again in polite conversation. 

The rest of the line of people who had witnessed the outburst had been humbled by the rudeness the guy displayed, and the dominance that the tall security guard had shown. Not another person was ill-spoken to you that night, but you guessed it had something to do with the fact that Heimdall had stationed himself beside the register like he was a secret service man protecting a president's child or something.

By the time the shift ended - your coworkers loved to let you go first, they knew you had a lot on your plate - you couldn't help but not leave until you had some answers. Heimdall was just collecting his backpack, shades atop his forehead even though it was ten o'clock at night. "I - I want to say thanks for what you did, early," you managed to get out, biting your lip. "He's always been a bit of a prick - I mean, not a nice guy to me every other time he comes through."

"You're very welcome, _______." Heimdall nodded, pulling the other strap of his backpack on. "I could tell. He's not a nice guy."

You bob your head, but it's then you realise. With Christmas being tomorrow, and your few days off until New Years Eve, you won't be seeing him again, perhaps ever. He's been so nice to you, always looking out, keeping an eye on you. A spark of courage is mustered, and you burst out, "Um, I'm not sure if you like pizza, and seeing most pizza stores are closed over the holidays, but I'd like to go out there, er, with you, to say thanks. Properly." You blurt. 

It couldn't have been any more botched, the poor guy could see through that in an instant -

"I love pizza," he smiles, and grabbing a notepad from his pocket, pens down digits in ink. "Here's my number. I look forward to seeing you again, _______."

You were sure that Tony and Thor were cheering over by the front desk. Even more sure that Clint from the deli had overheard, as there was a huge whistle, and sure enough, there he was, with two thumbs up high above his head.

[renaroo]

Twisted Legacy (21/25)

Disclaimer: Transformers and related properties belong to Hasbro Warnings: Canon-typical language and violence, Psychological torture and horror, Post-war politics, Canon divergence/Loose canon, Hospitalization and illness, Cultist indoctrination Rating: T Synopsis: [Canon Divergence from MTMTE and exRID #54] The legacy of the Primes has had a tainted past, one that weighs heavily on Optimus, his supporters, and those who seek the legacy for the future. But as they look forward for themselves and for Cybertron, a darkness looms that threatens to further corrupt the unsteady peace of their planet with its curious claim to be the Hand of Primus himself.

It’s up to Optimus, Windblade, Rodimus, and their teams to try and save all Cybertronians from this mysterious threat and, perhaps, change the future for the better if they can.

A/N: I know that this has been a very, very long wait for most of you and I deeply apologize for that, but we’re so close to the end. Only four updates away now. And Part V is incredibly intimidating for me on my end since, well, everything needs to be wrapped up and completed, and I’m hoping to deliver this story to you all in the best and most enjoyable way possible. I hope I manage that with today’s update too!

Special thanks to squireofgeekdom, Isame, and brokenEisenglas  for the feedback!

Part V: The Day the World Caught Fire Chapter 5.1: Heavy is the Head

Optimus, even as Orion Pax, had never thought of his pragmatism as a flaw, nor did he believe that his lack of interest in mysticism and the occult did his judgment a disservice. He understood technology, he understood character, and he understood power balance. And he did so almost in strictly terms of gray.

Sometimes sacrifices needed to be made to balance powers in the right direction, to work for the greater good.

And though there was a science to the fantastical tale these future Rodimus and Windblade weaved, the fact that it was still very much fantastical kept the Prime from being completely won over.

Not to mention, the very notion that Starscream was somehow capable of bringing Cybertron into a new, peaceful Golden Age did not endear Optimus to them in the least.

“And you’re certain you can’t tell me how long my reign will be?” Starscream continued, hand firmly on his chin as he looked thoughtfully at the time travelers.

“If we tell you too much we risk changing everything,” Windblade — the older, less decorated one — reminded him impatiently. “Probably for the worst, to be honest.”

“Well, we definitely wouldn’t want that,” Starscream agreed. “I need to continue my leadership just as if I had no idea that this was happening. For the good of the planet, of course.”

“Oh, please,” the current Windblade muttered, crossing her arms across her chest and rolling her optics back into her head. Fortunately, it seemed to be low enough that Starscream either felt he could ignore it or hadn’t heard it to begin with.

“What’s the matter, Prime? Turbofox have your tongue?” Starscream asked Optimus instead, looking incredibly smug at the moment. Which, in effect, Optimus tried desperately to remind himself that it was just the set of Starscream’s face in a way. “Time travelers came from the future to let us know I usher in an entirely new Golden Age for Cybertron. You must be thrilled at the prospects for our future.”

“We didn’t really travel millions of years into the past to fluff egos,” Rodimus argued.

“I am pleased to know that long sought after peace is nearly within Cybertron’s grasps, Starscream,” Optimus answered steadily, keeping his voice low and reserved. “How it is ushered in and under what power becomes increasingly of less importance. I am simply thrilled at the prospect of ending this strife and destruction.”

Looking at Optimus in some amusingly exaggerated awe, Rodimus laughed. “By Primus, I have missed just how amazing your speeches were.”

“A defining trait according to the archives,” older Windblade teased  before the doors of the laboratory burst open.

“What’s the meaning of this intrusion!?” Starscream shouted at the guards who filed in. “I’m listening to nostalgia for my reigning superiority over the people of Cybertron and all of its blessed

“Sir, we apologize, but there has been a breach in the blockade,” the soldier reported to Starscream directly.

“What!?” Starscream screeched. “What is the entire point of a blockade then?”

“That’s the problem, Lord Starscream, our blockade is mostly concerned with the ship fields and Iacon… this was a breach on an entirely different side of the planet. It was in the abandoned districts.”

“Was it Kaon?” Optimus asked immediately, stepping toward the guard.

Starscream glowered toward him. “Of course your first instincts blame Deceptions. Once an Autobot, they say.”

“Actually, Sir, it wasn’t Kaon,” the soldier said, turning to ward Optimus. “It was the remains of Nyon. And we have a trace on the ship. It belongs to the Lost Light. I don’t know if that means anything—“

"It mean everything,” Optimus answered, immediately heading toward the door toward himself.

“Where do you think you’re going, Prime! You don’t have my permission to leave!” Starscream snarled.

“I doubt I will need further confirmation on my actions, Optimus said clearly.

He had every intention of walking straight out of the laboratory with that final line, but to his surprise and annoyance, the time traveling Rodimus got in the way,

“We need to talk about this before we do anything brash and… timeline-changey,” Rodimus said clearly.

“No more than you and Windblade have already decided for us,” Optimus shot back.

“Well, to begin with, that’s a little unfair, don’t you think?” Rodimus said with feigned hurt. “Secondly, maybe while working on those memories, you can actually think about the consequences here since an entire timeline is something I’ve set in some future historical texts already.”

“Do you know who would be at Nyon?” Optimus demanded.

“I think you don’t need confirmation,” Rodimus explained with nodding support coming form Windblade behind him. “But yes, I know — or, rather, I remember what’s going to happen next. For the most part. It’s going to get… really confusing very quickly.”

“We are already at confusing,” Optimus assured him, continuing to make his way to the door.

“Yes, but we’re talking not only about the logistics of time traveling and interference, Optimus Prime, but the actual possibility of forever changing the good that may come from all of this,” Windblade assured him.

“Good?” Optimus asked, turning to face the travelers as well as the rest of the group gathered in the laboratory. “Nothing good can come from extremism, from blind worship, from this… line of Primes which have continued to reign unjustly until Cybertron was all but dead.” He paused and looked intently at the future Rodimus’ face, so heavily scarred with the print of a hand that Optimus had seen on their own time’s Rodimus days before. “From allowing self mutilation to appear to others as some sort of stigmata in a future further perverting of what is just handed down stories of creation and destruction.”

“That’s not what this is,” Rodimus said, pointing toward his faceplate. “It’s a reminder, every day, to myself and to every bot I meet, that a price comes with everything we do and everything we achieve. And that we have to wear our mistakes if we survive them.”

The others in the room looked at Rodimus with widened optics.

He noticed and immediately offered a sly smile, shrugging. “It takes a few million years but I got good at pep talks eventually.”

Optimus was far from convinced, however. “What you wear as a scar, I saw Error and a dozen acolytes wear as a symbol of disorder and hatred,” he said plainly. “That is not a symbol on today’s Cybertron, and I find it hard to believe it could come about in a supposed new Golden Age.”

“That’s because you don’t actually know Error or why he’s been toying with everyone until today,” Rodimus answered.

“Yes, supposed future Prime,” Starscream said, crossing his arms and leaning back against the nearest wall. “I would like an explanation as to why this grave threat couldn’t be revealed to us before it happened or if it is capable of destroying my glorious legacy — the new Golden Age, brought in by me, once again — why it wasn’t done sooner.” His nose curled in disgust. “Or what ever anyone could want in a dump like Nyon currently.”

“Because,” Rodimus said, hands on his hips. “Today, at Nyon, is the day that Error and the First New Generation of Cybertron first ignited their sparks. And any changes he wished to make could only really take affect once he was sure he wouldn’t be insuring his own destruction.”

For a moment, there was only silence, then Optimus stepped forward himself, breaking it. “There is a Hot Spot in Nyon today?” he asked critically.

Rodimus’ smile grew somewhat brittle and he looked right into Optimus’ optics. “The most important Hot Spot in Cybertrons post-War history. The Hot Spot that will unite the Council and breathe a new sense of alliances between all Cybertronians once and for all.”

“And it is imperative that it be saved before Error can ensure that only his own spark is allowed to thrive,” old Windblade announced.

“Then there is no time to waste,” Optiimus agreed. “Let’s roll out!”

The oath of Do No Harm was difficult to maintain in the middle of a war zone, and if anything was to make Velocity appreciate First Aid and Ratchet’s unorthodox perspective in the medical world, it was most definitely going to be the combination of their last stand on the Necroworld and the horrors of the fight before them in the middle of a sea of newly emerged sparks.

The lumbering giant of a mech lunged at them, fists alight with flames. And while the others were quick to move out of the way, Velocity all but grabbed her hardheaded captain to dive out of the way with him since he was standing his ground.

Immediately, Rodimus began pulling and fighting against Velocity’s hold, even as it saved his life. “Let go of me!” he growled. “Velocity! I’m ordering you—“

“You might still be my captain at spark, Rodimus, but I’m your doctor and keeping what’s available of your kibble alive is going to be worth putting up with your complaining!” Velocity fought back angrily.

“Don’t call me Rodimus!” he snapped at her. “And don’t you see? He’s the guy! The one that… He messed me up! He confused me and… He made me by— Velocity, fragsake let go of me!”

“Everything that’s come out of your voice box has just made me more sure than ever before that I am not letting go of you,” Velocity replied sternly. “So just go ahead and drop that idea from your mind, Hot Rod. You’re damaged, and as long as you’re damaged, I outrank you!”

Rodimus stared at her with a mixture of surprise and anger that left him uncharacteristically speechless.

If she had had the time, Velocity would have basked in her assertiveness but there was a vicious roar from their attacker that drew her attention instead. And most horrifying of all, she finally could see not only the damage she had rescued Rodimus from, but what effect it had on the area surrounding his point of attack.

“No! The Sparklings!” Velocity gasped in horror. She let go of Rodimus and covered her mouth in shock. Her insides felt twisted and coiled in revolt against the senseless loss. “He snuffed out an entire patch of young sparks! An entire grouping of young life and it’s all gone. What horrible kind of creature is this thing—“

Before she could continue rambling in terror, Rodimus took off from beside her at a speed and with a dexterity he had not shown since waking from stasis.

Velocity whipped back into doctor mode and got to her feet. “Rodimus! Stop right there!” she yelled.

Wasting no time, Velocity transformed mid leap into her alt-mode, hitting the ground at full speed and living up to her name in order to keep up with the damaged captain. Her damaged captain that was determined to put himself right in the midst of the stand off between Nightbeat, Brainstorm, Nautica, Drift and the horrific Error.

“Error!” Rodimus growled out, his hands suddenly enveloping in a white hot flame themselves.

The bulky monstrosity slowly turned, just enough to see Rodimus and grow an unnerving grin. “Ah. At last, my Prime. At last we meet, and at last I shall handedly give you a defeat.”

“Rodimus! Get out of here!” Drift yelled as he lunged for Error with his swords drawn. There was a clang of swords against armor, but Error had managed to hold off any damage by keeping his heavily armored forearm up.

Drift was bearing as much weight down with his swords as he could, determined to break through the armor Error was hiding behind, but when the metal was broken enough, it ht a thick rubber tread, which caused Drift’s optics to widen in surprise.

“Ah, there we are,” Error said almost gleefully before beginning to start up the treads on his arms, the fast rotation sounding like a saw that led to Drift’s swords shattering at the friction.

Taking advantage of the swordsmech’s shock, Error then landed a powerful kick to Drift’s chest, sending him flying backward into the rest of the Rod Squad.

“Pathetic,” Error chuckled, aiming his hand at the group as a flame grew.

Seeing there were only a few feet between Rodimus and Error at that point, Velocity slung herself around, skidding to a halt between them as if to create a border with her own body between Rodimus and Error. “Rodimus!” she yelled at him angrily.

It did nothing to stop the determined Rodimus, however, as he just leaped, kicking off of Velocity’s alt-mode to propel himself at Error.

“What the hell did you do to me?” Rodimus roared, landing a flaming punch against Error’s cheek.

Even Velocity felt slightly in awe of the moment as it played out, as that was not exactly a small feat by any means. The others seemed to join her in their amazement, though — that was their Rodimus back. Impulsive, feisty, full of fire.

But that awe was quick to disappear the moment he landed and his less armored, still healing frame crumpled under the momentum of his jump and sent him falling over himself, his damaged side hitting the ground and inspiring an anguished yelp.

“Rodimus!” Drift called out, immediately getting to the captain’s side. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll be better when someone takes that fragger down,” Rodimus gritted out, looking pale. “Also… maybe some fuel could help out.”

Brainstorm, surprisingly enough, stepped forward, looking more curious than anything else, head tilted. “The technology you’re using to come to our time? To disguise yourself and your followers? If you’re really a time traveller, tell me how many times my worst-best ideas are used to come back and bite all of us in the aft in the future. I think as their creator I deserve to at least know this much.”

“Brainstorm!” Nautica snapped. “That’s not helpful!”

“It could be if I know which ones are bad, I’ll keep a tighter lid on them and make sure they’re not mass produced,” Brainstorm offered.

“You’re still going to make them?” Nautica demanded.

“Obviously. They work,” Brainstorm replied candidly.

“Don’t you see? It doesn’t matter if he chooses to make them or not, because they’ve already been made in this future!” Nightbeat corrected them all. “He has to create them for this paradox to happen to begin with. He can’t choose to change that. Which is also probably why Brainstorm was the only one left undamaged on the Eukaris attack — his future inventions and the survival of those inventions are things that were necessary to get us to this point. And, more importantly, to get Error and his followers here.”

“None of that is answering my question!” Rodimus snarled viciously as Drift helped him stand up. “What did you do to me? Why? Why did you let me survive instead of making… making—“

Velocity transformed back into her natural mode, looking at the scene from the other side of Error. Her spark was pulsing strong, so much anxiety at once.

She had an instinctive, intuitive need to get to Rodimus — to her patient — and keep him from stupidly stumbling into further physical or psychological damage. But she also needed to see what Rodimus knew and had refused so far to share with all the doctors and friends and crew around him just what he remembered or what had happened.

And she needed to save the young lives surrounding them as well. Her duty as a doctor called for it.

“The answer is the same for everything,” Error answered. “I played you, my former Prime. I played you like the instrument of my own design just as is asked of me by Primus himself. He guided my hand, and likewise I used my gifts to guide yours.”

“Shadowplay," Velocity all but whispered to herself, realizing how the pieces were beginning to fit.

“But why?” Nightbeat pressed Error.

“So that we could meet like this on this day,” Error said confidently, raising his hands to reveal that during the excitement, his acolytes had spread out into the field of the Hot Spot. “And you could watch as we used Primus’ Guiding Light to take away from you the very future you all have worked to build — that you all sought while being so undeserving, one and all.”

Sparing no time, Velocity shouted to her friends, “Spread out! Save the Sparklings!” she ordered, turning to race back to the ship.

“Velocity! What about you?” Nautica cried out in fear.

“I’m calling Ratchet and First Aid!” Velocity answered. “We’re going to need all the help we can get.”

“Don’t you dare defy my planning!” Error roared.

In the corner of her vision, Velocity could see the giant mech turning to stomp in her direction. She aptly shifted back to her alt-mode to speed off from him. Surely, given the difference of frames, he would have no chance to keep up with her.

But what she hadn’t taken into account was that he didn’t need to reach her.

Instead, the lumbering giant pressed his wrists together, aimed in Velocity’s direction, and shot a hurdling ball of fire in her direction.

Swerving to avoid it, Velocity couldn’t zigzag enough to avoid being singed by the fireball, leading to her letting out a scream of pain.

She nearly flipped in her alt-mode, but a quick transformation held her skid, somewhat painfully, on her knees for a distance.

While Velocity pushed to her feet, she fully expected for Error to take advantage and finish her, but when he didn’t she looked back to see why. To her surprise, rather than spreading out and protecting the Hot Spot, her friends had all tackled onto Error’s arm, keeping him from aiming it.

“Velocity!” Rodimus growled out as he helped the others. “Get to the ship and call for help! That’s an order! You’re not allowed to die today! I’m saying that as your captain! So do it!”

Velocity felt her chest raise and she nodded. “Yessir!” she yelled back before turning and racing to the ship to do just that.

Starscream almost did a double take when he walked down the halls and found none other than Windblade standing in wait for him just outside the Council’s chamber.

She had a muted expression, thoughtful but purposefully reserved. Her eyes, as usual, were her real give, though. They shone with intrigue, concern, and anxiousness. If she was ever to live in the world of politics, someone was going to need to teach her how to keep such blanketed emotions under wraps.

He sure as the Pits wasn’t going to waste time doing it, that was all Starscream knew for sure.

“Windblade, you’re here,” he said, letting the snideness come through. “Rather than placing yourself in the thick of what’s sure to be almost clear destruction. I find it hard to believe that you grew a sense of self-preservation since your last excursion into snooping, so why are you here instead of following Optimus Prime and all the other fake future Primes out into the middle of nowhere for what’s certain to be a complete and total trap?”

For a moment, just a moment, Windblade let her optics harshen their glow and she put her hands on her hips. “Do you really care why I’m still here, Starscream?” she asked.

“No, not in the slightest,” he assured her. “I only care so far as how it’s going to effect what I’m having to do now to make sure that regardless of what happens in the junk heaps of a forgotten slum, this planet continues to spin on its axis and all its citizens — here and abroad — maintain some sense of order and security.”

“Then we’re here for the same thing,” Windblade assured him, glancing off.

Dissatisfied, Starscream moved in closer to her. “But, to sate some of my curiosity on the matter…” he began.

Windblade turned completely toward Starscream and looked him straight in the optics. “If some future version of yourself came into the past to try to stop someone from the future from using your religion as an excuse for destroying literal Sparklings, how would you feel about it? Would you want to follow this anomaly into battle? Possibly learn more about what kind of bot you will be shaped into over time?”

“Hm,” Starscream hummed in response. “I suppose I would never know since I carry no faith, seriously doubt the credibility of those who claim to be traversing through time, and most of all, the very idea that there would ever be a Rodimus Prime.” He scoffed and shook his head. “And you Camiens question why most Cybertronians have ignored the sanctimonious faith part of all this Primacy superstition.” He could see the way she was grimacing beside him so he threw her a false smile of sympathy. “Oh, my pardon, I didn’t mean offense.”

“You did,” Windblade said flatly.

Starscream waited for a moment, looking at Windblade’s face before growing impatient with her lack of reaction. “I must say, Windblade, as little as I care for your regular disposition, I am not a fan of you in a completely foul mood.”

“I’m just not in the mood to be played with today, Starscream,” she snapped back. “Or for being your excuse for putting this off.”

He balked and stood straight again. “Me? I have no fear of this conference,” he defended. “I just don’t want the people to become too alarmed over what’s probably nothing. And what’s probably definitely not the first Hot Spot on Cybertron since the end of the War. That’s just asking for mechs everywhere to get their hopes up.”

Curious, Windblade looked back at him, head slightly tilted. “You don’t believe anything the time travelers said? Even after they proved who they were with their spark signatures?” she asked.

“Of course not,” Starscream said with a flippant twist of his wrist. “Didn’t you hear what they said? I am supposed to be such a good leader I bring us into a new Golden Age. Are you telling me you believe that?”

She stared at him for a moment before crossing her arms. “I believe that I’ve learned not to underestimate you, Starscream,” she said instead. “And I think you want to believe at least that much is true because it’ll make up for the part of all of this chaos and turmoil we’ve been through thanks to Error at least a little bit possibly redeemable.”

“Other than leading our united people through this unspeakable hardship, I have no idea what you’re referring to, Windblade. I’ve been completely uninvolved,” he said smoothly as he finally opened the doors to the Council of Worlds’ chamber where their fellow representatives and the media were ready and waiting.

Leaving Windblade behind, Starscream climbed up to his usual seat at the head of the table, clearing his voice box, and then looked out to the gathered crowd. They stared back at him attentively and with heavy suspicions.

“Cybertronians, one and all, we are looking to the end of our darkest hour as a unified world and preparing to move forward to a new age,” Starscream began, a cocky smile growing as he continued. “A new Golden Age, you might say. One with us unified as the final hour approaches those terrorists which sought to destroy our faith and unity with one another. But in order for us to all achieve those lofty goals of unification and sanctity, we must first learn from the horrors that came before and see to it that we change our futures.”

As he paused dramatically, Starscream smirked and looked down to Windblade in particular. She had quietly crossed the room, standing by Chromia again, those all-telling optics surprised and curious about the speech.

Suddenly, Starscream knew she really hadn’t known what to expect from him. A realization which made everything only that much more wonderful.

“What I’m proposing is new legislation to be brought before the Council of Worlds, worked out between us all to more agreeable terms,” Starscream continued. “About the regulation and state sponsored study of mnemosurgery.”

There was a collective gasp across the room, and Starscream crossed his hands on the podium before him. “It is a dark and devious form of invasion of the most personal kind. And it has been used by many sides of many conflicts to disastrous effect. I propose regulation at the highest level, and sponsored study in its reversal and long term effects.”

The tension did not break, if anything it grew thicker. But Starscream had succeeded.

He was the one who publicly and diplomatically framed the discussions to come.