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awrkive · 3 months ago

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NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 2 — JJK (m.)

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

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

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 22.5k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3, mature language, lots of screaming into your pillow moments FLUFFY FLUFF FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFF, lovely hot nerdy jk ): (i think i speak for all women when i say that nerdy jungkook is the best jungkook say I IF U AGREE),[explicit sexual content: masturbation (f)], has the budding romance finally hit the second towers? read more to find out

NOTES hey everyone thank you so much for the overwhelming support on this silly little fic. i hope you guys enjoy this update and let me know your thoughts in the replies/reblog section and in my inbox, wherever you prefer hehe <3

NB!JK VISUALS | TAGLIST OPEN

READ ON WATTPAD | AO3

PART ONE | TWO | THREE

You usually finish prepping for the office at around 7:40 am, just enough time left to walk to the station and catch your bus at exactly 8 am.

As of now, it's 7 but the clock's longer hand has moved past the 40-minute mark, and you are still in your living room, supposedly all done and ready to go – except that you're stuck on the floor looking at your laptop perched on your coffee table, staring at it blankly, the HR email looking right back at you; almost daunting.

Subject: Invitation to Ceremony: Announcement of Interim CTO Dear Blue Nexus Inc. employee, We hope this email finds you well. We would like to inform you that a ceremony has been scheduled on July 29, 2028, 10:00 am at the AVR Hall 5, 12th floor. The purpose of this event is to announce the appointment of our interim Chief Technology Officer (CTO), Mr. Jeon Jungkook. As you may be aware, our previous CTO, Mr. Shin Juman, is currently on medical leave recovering from a stroke. While he is recuperating and undergoing treatment, it has become necessary for us to appoint an interim CTO for an indefinite period of time to ensure the continuity and effectiveness of our operations. Your presence at this meeting is highly valued as we introduce the new leadership to the team and outline our strategic direction moving forward. Light refreshments will be served. Thank you for your attention to this matter. We look forward to seeing you at the ceremony. Best regards, HR Department

You've been reading it over and over again you're sure you can recite it with ease if prompted. It's in the hopes that the name Jeon Jungkook will suddenly disappear somewhere in the email – that maybe you missed some detail, and it doesn't actually mention his name at all. You read the email repeatedly wishing that it is just a glitch in the system and what you found out about yesterday are all just a part of your extreme delusion. Maybe it's one of those nights with Jimin at his apartment where you would indulge in a little bit of guilty pressure – pots, to be exact – and just let it take you to a whole new world.

But you and Jimin didn't go home together last night, and you definitely did not smoke pot. He went straight to the airport and you straight home with nothing but mixed feelings inside, and you were more than thankful that Jimin was in a bout of panic himself about not getting there on time that he didn't notice you squirming in his passenger seat.

There is a vague memory in your head with him telling you he was going to come with Namjoon, but you can't be for sure. Everything that transpired that night is all reduced down to the very moment in the comfort room when you realized the glaring information about Jungkook being three eggs in your basket: first, he's Jimin's cousin. Second, he's an executive in your company – a CTO, to be exact – and while you aren't exactly working under his department and they are all the way up ten floors above you, he's still technically your boss according to the hierarchy. The son of the CEO of the very company you are working at. Not only is he the CTO, but third he's also your neighbor. Someone you've met weeks ago whom you may have developed a growing relationship with that will now possibly be bleak in a matter of hours or days depending on if you are going to tell him or if he finds out.

That is the thing that you're currently debating with yourself about as you let your eyes glide over the unsuspecting email from HR for the nth time.

7:50 am – the clock on your screen reads.

You think about the dock pay that you're gonna get if you come to work late. At this point, you can run to the station and still catch your bus, but you have to decide in a minute for that to be possible.

Groaning, you feel defeated as you shut your laptop close and stand up from the floorboards, your eyes going over to the door across from you which earns yourself a wince.

I'm gonna get a dock pay and it will all be Jungkook's fault. That jerk.

Okay – obviously, he's far from a jerk and he has nothing to do with any of this. You just like blaming anybody.

You sigh, grabbing your bag, finally making up your mind to just go and see for yourself what today has to offer you. A little optimism, if you will. But if you manage to bump into Jungkook at that company you aren't sure if you're not going to do something embarrassing because one thing about you, you do not know how to face certain challenges in life like a matured individual – you always have to be a little overboard and overdramatic with it.

You were heading towards the door when you suddenly remember your ID.

Your ID. Funny.

As you pick it up off the coffee table, you think about how you don't really wear it on the way to work and on your way home. You don't like the feeling of the lanyard wrapping around the skin of your nape, so you've always just worn it when you're in the office where it is mandatory. Otherwise, you make sure to take it off.

Suddenly, you think about a scenario where you're the kind of employee to wear their ID all the time, and those nights where you'd go to Midday straight from work to have dinner with Jungkook would've turned out differently because then if you were to have worn your ID during one of those meetings, he would've figured out that you're working at the same company. And maybe... the conversation about his relation to Jimin would've came up.

And maybe, you won't feel so... complicated about the whole thing.

How – in the two weeks that you've spent with him – do you know too much yet so little about him? How did you ever not ask each other where you work and how did this all come to you like a landslide and now you have no way out?

God's sake, you know about his dog, and you've exchanged numbers... and yet...

Although, granted, maybe you should've asked for each other's socials? Does he have Instagram? Twitter? Maybe if you had exchanged those sooner, you would've gotten to know him more and made the connections you only recently found out.

You want so badly to reach out to Jimin to talk to him about all of this. But he hasn't really contacted you since he sent off Namjoon to the airport. Maybe he really did leave with him, and it isn't just your imagination when he said something about going there last night when you sneaked out of the party.

But deep inside... you do not really want to talk to him about any of this, at all.

It is, to simply put, awkward.

You feel ashamed for gushing about your neighbor that is apparently the same person as his cousin. Feel embarrassed about how you ogled over him to Jimin when in fact, they're related. You don't know about other people, but you know the unspoken rule about not dating your friends' relatives? Not like you're dating Jungkook, but you have a crush on him for fuck's sake. The strings do not even stop at their blood relation because it extends to your workplace as well.

You know Jimin well enough to feel confident about not getting judged by him if you were to tell him about it, and if he actually does, he will directly say it to your face as far as you're concerned. But...

It's just all too awkward to tell anyone about. You're in too deep in the sea of embarrassment and shame you cannot think of ways to get out of it.

Your head is starting to hurt, and you know it's the sign to stop thinking. So, you shut up all the voices in your head and walk towards the door ready to go out, telling yourself that whatever happened, you're going to handle everything cooly like the grown woman you are.

Stepping outside the threshold of your apartment, you're just about to turn around to lock the door on your way out when suddenly, the door across yours opens and there welcomes you the man starring in your list of problems for the day: Jeon Jungkook, your neighbor Unit 446.

"Oh, hi. Good morning—"

You turn on your heel so quickly and open the door to your apartment so fast it's almost at the speed of light, entering your apartment once again and slamming the door closed, pressing your back on it as your eyes widen; heart beating at a staccato of thug, thug, thug as you take a moment to hold your breath.

What the fuck.

How in the hell is this the first time you see each other getting ready to work? It couldn't have happened in the first week you knew him or hell, the first day?! Why must you have bumped into him like that the moment you finally knew about who he is? Everything is getting way too ridiculous. It's like the universe is telling you once again that you'll always be her middle child: unfavorable by all ends.

"Shit." You hiss, biting your lip quite harshly as you think about how you must've looked like a goddamn fool turning on him like that for no reason. Jungkook must've been weirded the hell out – and rightfully so.

You face-palm. Damn, you were just telling yourself you're gonna handle everything like a grown, matured woman.

You unconsciously walk on your tippy toes on the way to the small window on the side of the door that lets you oversee outside your door, peeking from there like a creep as you watch Jungkook, still on his porch – with his grey coat over his arm – looking down on his phone and doing something with it.

That something is apparently sending you a text.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:52am]: why did u seem like u just saw a ghost?

The message read when you open your phone at the bell of notification. You haven't even read all of it yet when another one comes in.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:52am]: am I that appalling in the mornings? Haha 🥴

On any occasion, you would've laughed and go along with the joke, but you do not know what to say to him.

You stand there doing nothing, just staring at his two consecutive messages, poorly left on read. You purse your lips as you peek from the small window again, getting a glimpse of Jungkook standing still on his porch, eyes glued to his phone. He waits for awhile, and then you see him shaking his head with a hint of... smile on his face?

And then your phone dings once again.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [7:53am]: good morning by the way. Get safely to work

You stare at it so hard that the next second you look at the window, he isn't there anymore.

Letting out a heavy breath, you knock your head on the door, thinking about how you missed your 8 am bus and you have to wait for 30 minutes for another one to come and most especially, how you're going to get a dock pay for being late.

It's almost as if Jungkook is running for higher office the way his face is plastered all over the LED screens inside the building, showing the announcement of his ceremony. It's taunting almost, the way it was the first thing you see when you swiped your ID for entry.

Although, you do find it funny that it's the same man you just saw in front of you when you stepped outside of your place earlier this morning.

"Sol," you call your co-worker and also your friend, sliding your swivel chair closer to her desk. "Do we really have to go to the ceremony?" You ask, seeing that everybody in the office is already setting aside the stuff on their desks to head out to the 12th floor where the announcement ceremony will be held.

Sol fixes the post-it note on her computer first before turning to you, "Of course we do."

You pout at that.

"Is Ms. Jung really gonna be mad if we don't attend?"

"You know how she has this obsession of making our department look good, so I'm assuming yes." She answers, and you slump in your seat knowing damn well she's right to think that. Sol sees your seemingly grumpy disposition and asks, "Why? You don't wanna go?"

If only she knew.

You shake your head to her question.

"I just think it's gonna be boring," you shrug, the lie rolling on your tongue seamlessly.

"Eh, at least it's less work for today. Those things run for two hours and there's free lunch so that's that."

Events like these are supposed to be advantageous for you because again, Sol is right and those things do run for about two hours meaning less workload. Also, free lunch. Who doesn't like free stuff? But then again, Jungkook is going to be there and with your luck, you're starting to think that you're going to see more of him from now on. That is just how the world works against you.

"You're right." You say, frowning becoming more and more apparent, you're sure.

Sol chuckles at you and stands up herself, fixing her dress as you follow her out of the office.

Before you could completely go out though, you stop her on her tracks.

"Hey, do you think you have a face mask I can borrow?" You say, looking hopefully at her. Sol raises her brows, obviously confused at your strange request. Clearing your throat, you pretend to cough a little in your fisted hand. "I'm feeling a little under the weather today, but I drank my meds this morning. Forgot the mask." You reason with her, adding more lies to the conversation.

"Oh, I see. Okay, I think I have it." Sol perks up at the realization and you both enter your office once again, with your co-worker digging through her desk's drawer for the mask you were asking her for.

She hands it to you as soon as she finds it and you're quick to wear it around your mouth, silently rejoicing in your head at the brilliant last-minute plan you came up with in your head in order to avoid anything with Jungkook later. Not that you expect him to do something if he, indeed, sees you – you doubt he even will, given that the hall is huge, and you are planning to sit all the way back – but the mask is just a precautionary measure so there are less chances of him recognizing you or anything crazy like that.

Together, Sol and you ride the elevator down to the 12th floor and unsurprisingly, a lot of the company's employees are already there, finding their seats, chitchats heard across the hall.

"Sol, __!" Joonhwi, one of your co-junior accountants and also a friend, calls out to you both, separating himself from the other accountants and heading to your direction. "You're sick?" He asks as soon as he sees your face covered with the mask.

"A little." You reply.

Joonhwi nods his head and then say, "I thought you girls were planning to ditch the ceremony."

"I'll do anything to not see your face but then again we work together so I have no choice." Sol snarkily remarks.

"Sol, can you please refrain from professing your love to me with all these people around?" Joonhwi retorts back, smarmy and teasing, ever the expert on how to get on Sol's nerves.

"__, can you get this khia away from me?"

You laugh at both of their exchange, shaking your head at their silly antics. You don't know if Sol is just... emotionally constipated, but damn, she sure is clueless as hell about Joonhwi's feelings. It seems like everybody from the accounting department knows except for her.

Shaking your head, you go straight to the seats available with Joonhwi and Sol sitting on opposite sides of you.

"Anyway, I heard they're appointing Mr. Jeon's son." Joonhwi suddenly say.

Now that makes you squirm.

"Really?" You utter, just to give them a reaction.

Sol looks at you weird. "I thought everybody knew that?"

"Well, there are lots of Jeons in Korea..." you tell her, earning a laugh from Joonhwi which makes Sol frown.

"A man is not allowed to laugh in my vicinity, Joonhwi, shut up," she says rolling her eyes. Her tone shifts when she speaks to you though, suddenly sounding more gossip-y as she shows you a picture on her phone. "Look at the material, though,"

You look at the photo of a man who very much has the same and exact coloring of the one and only Jeon Jungkook you know and you have to swallow the lump in your throat.

"I mean, I've always thought Mr. Jeon was a DILF but his son is – damn." She adds, zooming in on Jungkook's professional head shot.

You and Joonhwi both give her the stinky eye.

"Have some class." you tell her, earning a laugh from both of them.

"For the record, you agreed to that before." Sol points out, referring to that dinner you three had at a barbecue house awhile ago. For the record, though, you were both drunk and Joonhwi had to haul Sol's ass back to her place and call Jimin to get you to yours.

"I refuse to acknowledge anything I've ever said when I was drunk."

"Okay but is anybody getting the urge to get transferred to the IT department expeditiously?" Sol jokes, obviously swooning over Jungkook.

Joonhwi snorts. "The CTO doesn't even go there."

"Killjoy much?" Sol frowns at him. "He'd visit, though. Imagine the eye candy."

You eye her in a teasing manner, "You have enough candy on your plate, Sol." And then you subtly look over Joonhwi.

Joonhwi himself doesn't seem to expect the insinuation, but nonetheless you know that he got the message of you implying he's good-looking and if Sol is looking for that, he's just there. That is why he suddenly loses his smirk and rests his back on the seat, crossing his arms as he retires himself from the conversation, obviously dodging your teasing.

Psh. Emotionally constipated co-worker number two.

"What the hell does that mean?" Sol asks, but she can't get an answer as the ceremony begins.

"Good morning, everyone. Today marks a significant moment as we gather to appoint our interim Chief Technology Officer," The host starts the introduction, "We are here to acknowledge the pivotal role of the CTO in our company's journey to ensure continuity in our innovation efforts. It is with great pleasure that I introduce Mr. Jeon Jungkook, our interim CTO, who has been selected to step into the position."

And there is him, in his grey suit that you've seen him in earlier. He's wearing his glasses as well, the one that has the thinner frame. You notice he switches between two kinds; he wears the thick-framed one off work and the thin-framed one during work, like right now.

Jungkook smiles at the applause that reverberates all over the hall. There are LED screens that hang on both sides of the room and you can see his face clearly there. Sol gushes over how good he looks.

"Jesus, wow..." Sol whispers to herself, and you're sure she did not mean for you to hear that, so you try not to acknowledge it because deep inside, you agree with her. That's exactly your reaction when you saw him for the first time in the stairs of your apartment complex – and he didn't even clean up in his suit that time.

Jungkook stands on the podium with an easy-going smile on his face, his aura screaming confidence. He looks so sure of himself, like he's born to actually do this.

"Thank you, Mr. Park. Good day to all. I am deeply honored and humbled to accept the role of Chief Technology Officer at Blue Nexus Incorporation. As we navigate this interim period, my commitment is to uphold..."

You watch as he starts his speech, noting how well he speaks. You aren't a stranger to how people have different personalities when they are in and off work, but it's almost disorienting to see Jungkook going all professional, his voice soft but edgy at the same time, just enough for you and everyone to recognize a bit of authority in there.

He looks over the crowd, and for a brief second, you feel as if his eyes glossed over you far longer than he had other parts in the room.

But that thought dies down as quickly when he immediately goes back to speaking, and you're sure you just imagined it.

You're in the middle of your night routine when your phone suddenly dings.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:44pm]: just remembered we never really got around to that boxing machine, did we

Right. Today is Friday and you are supposed to go that boxing machine to determine if he's gonna supply your daily boba or if you're coming over to his place so he can cook you both a meal.

But that deal was made days ago when you still were clueless about his identity, and admittedly, you'd say that right now, you're doing anything to avoid him.

Scrolling through your message thread and seeing Jungkook's texts since that morning being left on read makes you feel bad. You know it isn't fair. It isn't nice to just suddenly go leave people dry like that, especially Jungkook who has been so strangely non-confronting about your sudden weird behavior.

It takes you a few minutes to give him a reply due to you erasing and retyping your message repeatedly.

You [10:47pm]: sorry ive been busy the whole day with work ):

Was what you lamely came up with. You couldn't have done better than that, to be honest with yourself.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:47pm]: I see Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:48pm]: so raincheck tonight?

You [10:48]: sorryyyy for cancellig im just feeling a little under the weather

Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:49pm]: ohhhh ok ok sorry for texting late

You [10:50pm]: asbdbsfjshf its fine!!!!!!!!

Maybe you didn't think it through, but you find yourself typing the next message and hitting send way too quickly.

You [10:51pm]: maybe tomorrow?

You're thinking about taking it back, but Jungkook has already replied.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:51pm]: ok. I'll see you tomorrow 😊

Pursing your lips, you wonder what he's doing tonight.

Is he working? Maybe some take-home paperworks? What do CTOs even do? He must be really busy... though you think it has to be otherwise since he had the time to text you.

You stand up from the chair of your vanity table, patting your hair one last time and jumping to your bed, ready to overthink some more then sleep when an idea suddenly pops up into your head the moment your eyes lay on your phone.

Making yourself comfortable on your mattress, you pick up the phone from your night stand and unlock it, your fingers making quick work of opening the Instagram app and typing jeonjungkook on the search bar.

The results show you a few accounts that resemble the username you looked up, but as you check each one, none of them seems to belong to the man you're looking for. So, you try a few varieties: jungkook, jungkookjeon, jeon... JK?... but then you're sure you've milked out the last of your brain juice trying to come up with a possible username for him but to no avail.

Jimin must be following him, you think to yourself. Since Jimin is a snob on his verified and public account and isn't following anybody there, you go straight to his private account to try and find a Jungkook in his following but again – you guessed it, failed search.

"Does he not have an IG?" you ask yourself, feeling quite exhilarated.

You think about Twitter, but remembering Jungkook's face makes you share your head in disagreement with yourself. There is no way he has Twitter. That guy looks terminally offline and doesn't have the face of someone who likes tweeting in his leisure time.

You'd say it was curiosity rather than desperation when you decided to install Facebook and hoped to see some of him there. You did have little hopes though, as you started typing his name, thinking there was no way you'd see him on the app because, who even uses Facebook nowadays except moms and dads and grandparents?

But then as you jokingly type his name and enter it on the search bar, a few tagged pictures of him show up.

The first one is posted by a Jeon Junghyun, his brother, and the picture is from 2017. Said picture is of Jungkook at the airport sitting on his luggage, and the caption reads as: good luck in college brother.

You stare at the picture, noting how young he looked in it and suddenly feel disoriented when you see his arms with no ink around them. They're so bare, and he definitely looked more lean, not like the muscly guy you know him as now. He was starting college here, so he must've been only 19 in the photo... meaning he got his tattoos in the States while he was in college or maybe even later than that?

You click on Jungkook's page, the one that his brother tagged in the photo, but all you see is the default Facebook profile picture and a locked account.

Feeling disappointed at that, you go back to his brother's page and check it out, throwing all your shame away as you look through his photos.

He must've limited his audience since the public posts are all outdated, but there are a few pictures in which Jungkook is in them, as well as other recurring people who seem to be their parents.

There's a recent family picture of them in the Eiffel Tower – uploaded in 2022 – all four of them.

As you see Mr. Jeon, the CEO of your company, with his family, it's hard not to feel... whiplashed, for the lack of better term. From the looks of it, they seem to be... close? For the record, Jimin does not have any casual pictures of him with his parents, and as far as you know, they never went out on trips together – just galas and all that socialite events. You know they are only mere pictures, not solid enough to assume what Jungkook's relationship is with his family, but you're starting to think maybe it's a good one.

That'll honestly be surprising, given that every wealthy family you know has dysfunctional relationships. Nevertheless, it will be quite... adorable if what you think is true.

"Oh my god," you say, disbelieving, as you recognize Jimin in one of Junghyun's public photos while scrolling through more.

It's an event of some sort, and how can you not spot Jimin when he looks conspicuous in his orange hair? You remember this being in your sophomore year in college, and how much Jimin actually hates that hair and wants to burn down every picture that reminds him of it.

You snort as you zoom in on Jimin, taking a screenshot of the photo, mindlessly going to your messaging app; ready to send him the photo to poke lighthearted fun, but then you realize—

"Oh, I can't do that."

Jimin will ask you where you got the photo from, and you'll have to tell him that you were cyber stalking his cousin. Then, he'll ask why you were stalking his cousin, and he will find out the very thing you don't want him to find out.

That makes you frown, quick to delete the message you were just about to send and put your phone back to your nightstand.

Well, that ruins fun.

You wish you can tell Jimin or anyone for the matter, but you currently don't feel comfortable about doing that.

Sighing, you look up at your ceiling, then forcefully close your eyes to avoid more thoughts coming into your head.

You start counting sheep until you fall asleep.

There had been a lot of times where you felt like shit about yourself. They happen way too many times that at this point, you'd lost count. It wired you to think that there must be something wrong when a day goes all too well.

But there is no beating the feeling of self-antagonism when you ditch somebody – even if it's for a valid reason.

Sure, you've ditched Jimin a couple of times, and he always makes sure to rub it on your face as much as he can until you pout at him and explain to him that there are just some days you do not feel like going out. Jimin, as your best friend, understands that about you, of course.

A lot of times, though, it's the dates you tend to ditch the most. Three dates – you recall – is the number of times you'd skipped out of, just because you had a panic attack thirty minutes before the meeting that one time and two times for the plain, simple fact that you had a realization that you did not really like the guy you were planning to see.

Shin Taemu, the guy from the IT department asked you out last month for a second date and you texted him a last-minute, half-assed lame excuse about having gotten period cramps. Up to this day, you're still wary about using the IT department's copy room because his texts, since then, have been left unanswered. You saw him awhile ago at the cafeteria, though, and he seemed to be treating you non-differently even after you ghosted him suddenly.

Recently, you're doing the same thing again to Jungkook.

It isn't dating, of course – just the whole ditching thing.

You feel terrible for canceling on him again on Saturday when you just told him Friday night that you would go to that boxing machine. He had texted you a simple "we still on?" with a smiley emoji that gave you the creeps (because that smiley emoji does not ever mean the person is smiling behind it – knowing Jungkook though, it's probably not the case, and you're just overthinking it). You've left that text to rot until Sunday morning, and only picked it up later during the night, telling him you were "sorry I just saw this now! I was swamped with work stuff" even though you've never brought paperworks at home in your whole career and you were just binging The X-Files, bashing those two idiotic emotionally constipated FBI agents when you are quite one, yourself.

Sometimes, you fear you're no better than a man. Jimin will willingly knock your head on a door to get you to your senses and tell you all the things about why you should never compare yourself to them – but there are times like these when your shortcomings – specifically your lack of proficiency in communication – mirror that of a man's, and you hate every single second of it.

Until then, you dreaded for Monday to come.

But it's ultimately inevitable

And when you wake up from your sleep, it's Monday, and you have to go to work whether you like it or not.

And oh, to add, Jungkook hasn't replied to your message. Which – okay – ouch. But you're not supposed to be hurt by it; if anything, you kind of deserve it after ditching him so many times. He isn't an idiot, and you're sure he knows you lied... you're just thankful that he's not saying anything if he does know, indeed.

You have thought things over in the shower this morning, though.

If Jungkook is three eggs in your basket, why will it matter? So, what's the big deal if he is Jimin's cousin and that he works at the same company and lives in the same apartment complex?

You finally admit that those things matter to you initially because... you have a crush on him. If you didn't, you'll give fuck-all if he's related to your best friend. You won't care at all if he's your boss because you don't have to worry about fantasizing about him.

But the thing is, you do have some sort of romantic feelings for him, and that is why those things moved you in a way that makes you feel and act a little weird around him.

And now there's this feeling of guilt that has overtaken your entire system. Because if you just see Jungkook platonically, these things won't happen. And you hate it, because he's genuinely a good friend. Someone who may want a friend in you too, but you are ruining it all because you have trivial feelings for him.

Absolutely ridiculous.

But now that those realizations have become clear in your head, you've made up your mind by thinking that those eggs don't matter.

It doesn't matter that he's Jimin's cousin, doesn't matter that he's an executive. You are his friend, and it's was okay to have friends that are your other friend's relative and friends who are your boss.

Of course, it's still awkward to think about him catching you in your home clothes but on a more serious note, your crush will never see the light of the day and even if it does, there's no way Jungkook will accept it because guys like him never settle with people like you. And you don't even mean that in a self-deprecating way, not at all! You are just fully aware of the practical world you live in and know that the vast disparity of your economic status will never work, especially with the kind of family he was born into.

With that said, you are ready for things to be back the way they were. No more pussyfooting in the office in fear that you'll bump into him, no more canceling on his innocent invitations to dinner, no more pining over him secretly and putting malice over everything that he does because you're going to be a renewed person now.

You're ready to take on the big shoes and be matured enough to address his questions if ever he has one.

So, you enter the elevator of Blue Nexus Inc. with a sort of spirit that you're sure will be hard to take down, creating pictures in your head that depict a smooth-sailing conversation with Jungkook where you're ideally going to be cool in it and not at all panic-y.

It's alright. Nothing is going to change—

Your thoughts are disrupted when somebody enters the elevator and the people in it suddenly start bowing their heads, a series of greetings reverberating in the confined space.

Fuck.

"Good morning, Mr. Jeon."

"Greetings, Mr. Jeon."

"Mr. Jeon."

Your eyes widen when you see Jungkook walking in with his black suit and sleek black hair, his eyeglasses sitting on his nose.

Okay, so nevermind the illusion that you're going to be cool now – you're absolutely panicking in your position!

Thank fucking god you're at the back with two persons in front of you, hoping they are enough to at least cover your frame as Jungkook stands in front after greeting back the employees inside.

Oh my god. Fuck me.

You tilt your head to the side with a wince on your face, sneakily raising your arm over your head to take your hairclip off so your hair fans your face. It is a poor attempt at covering yourself lest Jungkook suddenly turns around and recognizes you as a result.

But in that moment, you must look stupid as hell that the guy beside you looks at you weird.

You stand upright, giving him a tight-lipped smile. He just snubs you.

That makes you roll your eyes.

You go back to staring at Jungkook's back agonizing the thought that you really aren't ready at all to confront him. You thought about it all morning, but the moment he got here, all those ideations of you being cool around him from thereon are suddenly thrown out the building.

A few seconds after, somebody drops off at the 13th floor, and it starts to make you feel nervous.

What if more people start going out and then you'll be left alone with Jungkook? You intended to go to the 16th floor where your office is... Jungkook is – wait, where is his floor? You actually have no idea. But you are certain it's floors above you. Oh god! How can you possibly move past him without him recognizing you? Shit. You didn't think about that.

Now, you're starting to lose your bottle, your head not able to form ideas to get through him. The elevator is small! And people are starting to head out...

You look at the position indicator of the elevator, telling you that you're going way up to the 15th floor. A few seconds after and it dings, the elevator door opening. The guy in front of you heads way out, and you can see Jungkook still on his spot.

You find yourself not being able to move, completely stoned in your position.

You sure as hell aren't going out unless he does first! That's your solution. If he's located at the topmost floor, you're going to wait until then. You're just going to ride the elevator down again.

But what you don't see coming is Jungkook suddenly moving to head outside the elevator.

Looking at the indicator once again, you confirm if he really is going to the 15th floor.

The door already closed by the time Jungkook is finally out, which eases your nerves. You're way too relieved to forget thinking about why he's in the 15th floor.

You stop at the 16th with a smile on your face, feeling like you just got away with murder. You've never done it – get away with murder – but that's exactly how you feel.

On your way to the office, your phone vibrates from the pocket of your trousers.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [8:56am]: Correct me if I'm wrong but I think I just saw you at the elevator today

You thought of ways to dodge his bullet, thought about denying his claim and telling him that he must've seen somebody else because you work all the way across town and him seeing you would've been impossible.

But you know the attempts will be futile.

If anything, though, you take it as a sign to finally make things right.

Avoiding Jungkook will never be efficient. In order to be successful in that regard, you'll have to hand in your resignation or move out of your apartment completely and you can't do that.

Besides, for what it's worth, you kind of miss hanging out with him and if you were to continue hiding from him, you will have to say goodbye to having him around at all.

The moment you got off work today, you think of plans to talk to him and maybe, just maybe, invite him for dinner – to, hopefully, make up for all the times you've bailed on him.

With a tail tucked between your legs, you stand apprehensively in front of the door of his unit, still unsure about your plans but doing it nonetheless. There's no going back now.

You ring the doorbell, taking your hand back quickly as if you just got electrocuted by it.

Please don't answer. Please don't be home. Please don't answer—

And there he goes, in his plain white shirt and grey sweats, hair wet from his previous shower – you assume. He's still drying his hair with a towel when he opens the door, but his ministrations stop the moment he lays his eyes on you.

You just give him an awkward smile that probably look more like a grimace.

"Hi."

The surprise is evident on Jungkook's face. Regardless, he is quick to get over it and gives you a big grin instead. An expression you did not expect to get.

"__, hey," Jungkook greets, placing the towel around his neck and letting go of his doorknob. "What brings you here?"

You balance your weight on your other side and purse your lips in a thin line.

"Do you, uh, wanna grab dinner?" You ask right away, not wanting to beat around the bush.

Jungkook's smile somehow grows wider at your question, and you don't know what to feel. If he's petty, he'll reject your invitation but with the look on his face right now, he doesn't seem to have the intention to do so. At least you hope so. It will be so embarrassing for you to have come all the way to his place instead of just asking him through text.

He was about to answer when somebody suddenly approaches the door.

"Jeon Jungkook?" The guy asks, and you immediately shot your eyes to look at him. With his printed shirt that reads a famous food delivery brand and his hands carrying bags of what you assumed take-out food, you figure what he's here for. "Here's your order, sir."

Embarrassed, you scoot to the side to give way to the food delivery guy and let him extend the bags towards Jungkook who grabs his wallet from the pocket of his sweats to pay for the food, thanking the man in the process.

He already has plans for tonight, you realize. Your invitation to dinner is futile because he already bought take-out.

The food delivery guy gave you a look before he took off in which you returned a timid smile for. And then, you turn around to look at Jungkook again.

"Nevermind, don't answer my question." You say, referring to your invitation prior to the arrival of his food delivery. "Uhm, bye. Good night."

You were just turning your heels to go the other way around when Jungkook suddenly speaks.

"Wait, don't go yet," Jungkook steps to the side and inserts his wallet back into his pants. He raises the bags of take-out and arches his brow towards your way, "Do you like Thai?"

"I do." You reply, not really understanding where he's getting at first.

Jungkook smiles. "Good. Do you wanna come inside?"

When you realize what he just said, you shake your head, "Oh, no, no. We could grab dinner outside tomorrow if you're free."

"This is enough for two?"

He's inviting you to his place. Is he insane?

You shake your head once again. "No, Jungkook, I really don't want to impose on—"

Jungkook cut you off with a hearty laugh.

"__, you won't be imposing. Come on, I bet you haven't had dinner yet either." When you don't answer, he insists again, "I think I have Thai tea around here somewhere."

You narrow your eyes at him.

"You think I'll go inside just 'cause you have Thai tea?" you say, raising your brow at him, challenging Jungkook to say something to that. He shrugs with a smile of amusement. Then you break your demeanor and sigh. "You're actually right. I can probably be bribed with daily boba supply."

Jungkook laughs at your absurd claim.

"No matter what's on the line?"

"Yeah," Then you decide to joke a little, "If you're the one on the line."

His laughter only becomes louder, and you shake your head at him because you genuinely wonder why he laughs so much at your nonsensical jokes. You would consider yourself funny but not that funny.

But this is good. Joking is good. This dynamic is surely better than you avoiding him.

"You're so..." Jungkook stops to look at you and you stare back at him. That moment stretches into a minute until you feel the hair on your nape stand.

It's the night air, and not at all the almost intimate way he looked into your eyes.

That's what you'll tell yourself tonight.

"I'm so what?" You decide to break the silence, seemingly snapping Jungkook out of the trance he's put himself in awhile ago.

He shakes his head. "Nothing."

"Okay, now you're just making me curious."

"It's nothing."

"Okay, I'm gonna let it pass this time..." you say, eliciting a low chuckle from him.

He must realize that you've both been standing on his porch for a while now.

"Come," he says, gesturing inside his place.

Your steps are a bit hesitant as you follow him inside. But nonetheless, you both get in, Jungkook offering you a pair of home slipper that are almost twice as big as your feet as he locks the door.

When you let your eyes wander, you're more than surprised to see the state of the interior.

Jungkook's place is surprisingly... clean.

Sure, it must be because there aren't any decorations or much furniture yet, but from your experiences with men, the one thing they have in common is that they are messy. It's almost impossible to not see clothes strewn all over their places or food wrappings on any surface at a corner, but Jungkook's is spotless.

Except maybe for the few boxes that stand beside the door of the room all the way across the room which you assume is his bedroom, but other than that, there's no indicator that a man is residing inside. Admittedly, it's even cleaner than your own.

"Sorry, it's a little messy. I haven't unpacked all of my stuff. Got busy."

He seems to notice you eyeing the aforementioned boxes, and hearing his words, you shake your head.

"Oh, no, trust me. This is the cleanest place I've ever seen." You say truthfully.

"Thanks." Jungkook responds with a smile.

His apartment, like yours, has an open layout so from where you are in the living room, you can see him putting the bags on the kitchen counter, unloading them and starting to transfer some of them into his own plates.

You approach his direction to find yourself useful.

"Is it okay if we eat at the coffee table? My table set hasn't arrived yet..." he rubbs the back of his head, a sheepish smile painting his face.

"It's fine."

His coffee table is wide enough for all the food to fit, anyway. That's what you thought when you bring all the food to the living room, sitting on the floorboards opposite of him.

Before you start dinner, Jungkook asks if you want to watch something on the TV.

"It's like a jumbotron." Is your throw-away comment when he turns on his huge ass TV. It's genuinely so big you aren't even exaggerating. You are not that good with estimation but the screen is probably the same height as you...

"What?" Jungkook chuckles, looking at you all confused.

"Nothing. Just that your TV is so big."

"Yeah? I wanted to buy this one for so long and I got really lucky to get it on sale here. I have the Criterion channel so I've been wanting to watch stuff with an OLED screen—" he cuts himself off and looks at you with a hint of embarrassment. "Sorry."

You look away before you can go on a spiral about how cute he looked with a proud smile on his face while he was going off about how he got his jumbotron on sale. He was geeking out about a freaking TV. But you guess it makes sense for a tech guy like him.

"Uh, what do you want to watch?" He asks, going through his streaming services.

The big TV and the streaming services just click so much in the context of him. You, in contrast, cannot relate. After forgetting to unsubscribe to Netflix a few months ago, it automatically stole the thirteen thousand won from your account, and since then, you're more than traumatized to pay for any streaming services until today. Pirating is bad but so is capitalism.

"Anything is fine."

"Okay."

You really couldn't have cared less about what he's going to click on, but National Geographic pops up on his big screen and you think he must be joking but he starts tuning in with genuine interest.

Oh. Wow.

He's just a big nerd trapped in a hot human body, huh?

How cute. And how unbelievably hot to discover this about him.

After a few minutes into the documentary, it turns out that whales are interesting to a certain degree. Sure, Jungkook's huge ass screen made it a little funny because the pictures are too big, but they did pique your interest a little, especially when Jungkook would add in a little of his own knowledge about them. When you asked him about the weird little stick thing on their mouth, he told you that they were tusks and only male narwhals had them, and that they used it as some sort of sensory tool. He admitted he hyperfixated on whales for a while when he saw them first on Discovery Channel as a kid.

You didn't even have to pretend to be engrossed, you were just in genuine awe of his interests and how enthusiastic he was about sharing them.

Food is starting to run out, making you realize that it's been awhile since you've eaten Thai food and you should probably eat them once again tomorrow.

You're just about to ask Jungkook which restaurant he got it from when he beats you to speaking first.

"You're still in your work clothes."

You stop.

"Yeah..."

And then you're reminded of why you're here in the first place.

It isn't for the whales or for Thai food, that's for sure.

You haven't changed out of your work clothes, indeed, since you planned going out for dinner in hopes of talking to Jungkook while ago. The night is going so well so far that you actually forgot about that. But then since he already cocked the gun, might as well just pull the trigger and get it over with.

You look at him, an uneasy feeling settling in your nerves.

"So... about your text earlier."

There is a hint of a smile on Jungkook's lips when he nods his head.

"Yeah?"

"It wasn't me." You say, trying to look for a reaction, trying to see if he'll insist or anything.

But Jungkook just nods his head again.

"I see."

He does not seem to see, though, and you know right then and there that your cover is finally and officially blown.

"Okay, I lied. That was me." You take back your words, jutting your bottom lip out when you add, "Turns out we work at the same company. And that you're apparently my boss."

"And you're my cousin's girlfriend."

You gasp audibly.

So he knows you were at that party! How? And what? He thought you were Jimin's girlfriend for real? Wait, does he not know it was all Jimin's ruse?

"How did you know that?"

"They mentioned Jimin's girlfriend was in the bathroom when I arrived. I asked Jimin about it and he told me her name was __."

You would face-palm yourself if Jungkook wasn't present.

Ugh. Of course, Jimin doesn't know.

"Well, okay, just so you know, I was a paid actress." You tell Jungkook, which earns you a laugh from him. Then you cover your mouth, realizing you shouldn't have said that. "Oh—uhm, do you know...?" You trail off, looking at him expectantly and hoping he knows what you meant.

You swear you remember Jimin telling you that Jungkook knows about him being gay, but now you are second-guessing yourself and you will be in trouble if you did slip up.

Thankfully, Jungkook nods, seemingly understanding where you're getting at.

"Don't worry, I know." You heave a sigh of relief at his verbal confirmation. Jungkook takes the tom yum goong and started peeling the shrimp from the bowl, continuing to say, "And Jimin brings a fake date to every family gathering, so I knew right away he was lying about dating somebody," Jungkook chuckles, and as if an afterthought, he adds, "I wish I could've seen you act. You two left so early."

Well... you did play a role in that, you think. But you can't tell him you purposefully didn't go back to the table that night because you saw him.

"Oh, Jimin had to send Joon off at the airport." You say, which is actually true. For a change.

He nods. "His boyfriend, yeah... did he go to Italy with him?"

You wonder how he knows about the Italy thing. Jimin, probably. They're close after all—

"Namjoon's a close friend as well." Jungkook adds, as if having read your thoughts.

"Ah," you nod, not surprised at all about their apparent link.

Wealthy people do have a tiny world.

"Jimin hasn't actually contacted me yet since that night."

It has been a few days, and you're starting to think he's dead or something. Your calls go straight to voicemail and your messages do not send. You've sent him a few on social media as well but it seems like he hasn't been online at all.

"I'm worried about him. Has Namjoon said anything?" You look at Jungkook, hoping he'll say yes.

But he shakes his head instead.

"I wouldn't be worried, though. I think they're together."

"In Italy?"

"Yeah."

You won't be surprised if that's the case. Jimin is the king of spontaneity and if he did fly off to another country abruptly with his boyfriend, you won't question it.

You do miss him though and you're gonna make sure to make him feel bad for not telling you anything soon.

"You're right." You sigh.

Jungkook has been peeling shrimp for awhile now, setting them aside in a small bowl. You think he's gonna eat it himself, but you're surprised when he slides off the bowl to your direction.

"There. I noticed you weren't eating the tom yum. You don't like it?" Jungkook asks, smiling at you.

You can't help it; blood rushes to your cheeks at the realization that he just peeled shrimps for you.

Is this normal for him? Like, does he just go around and do things like these for friends?

You will scream in your bathroom later when you get home.

"Oh, no, uh... I'm actually allergic to shrimp." You give him a tight-lipped smile.

You feel bad at the way Jungkook's expression drops as soon as you said that.

"Shit, sorry, I didn't know," He takes the small bowl quickly and looks at you apologetically.

"No, it's fine! I didn't tell you either."

"I'm really sorry. I should've asked first."

"Jungkook," you chuckle. "It's fine. Thank you, anyway."

"I could've done serious damage to you, huh?"

"Yeah, you'd have to tell Jimin you killed me because you fed me shrimp."

"Don't say that," Jungkook laughs. "How long are you friends now, by the way?"

You nip on your chopsticks, answering him.

"We've been friends since college... so almost ten years."

"That's really nice."

And then you remember to ask, "Did you tell him?"

"What?"

"That you know me?"

"No. Not yet, at least. Didn't have the chance." Jungkook proceeds to eat the shrimp himself and you have to keep yourself from letting out a breath of relief at his answer. "Did you tell him?"

"No. Uh— I know this is weird. But... can you not tell him?" You ask. Jungkook looks at you for a bit, studying your face. You clear your throat when seconds passed and he still hasn't said anything. "It's just that I want to tell him on my own time." You decide to add.

"Okay." He says after a while, smiling.

Thank god he doesn't ask any more questions.

"Thanks."

And now there's another elephant in the room that you still need to address.

A bit hesitant, you open with, "Did you uhm..." You think about how to word it, but then you think, fuck it. "Did you know by that time at the party that I work at Blue Nexus?"

Jungkook shakes his head.

"No, I saw you at the company and only put two and two together."

Your brows furrow. "When?"

"Uh... earlier this morning."

"Oh. Yeah..."

You don't know exactly why, but you feel a tinge of disappointment that he meant earlier. You really thought he recognized you at the ceremony.

But then you shake the feeling off and jokingly narrow your eyes at him. "Why didn't you tell me about the party, then?"

"Why, did you see me there?"

You shut your mouth. Right. You're supposed to pretend you didn't seen him that time.

"No." You lie.

"So I thought it didn't matter... though I was pretty surprised when I saw you today."

"Ugh, I thought I hid myself pretty well." You lament dramatically, embarrassed that you really thought covering your face with your hair would do you any good.

"Nah," Jungkook shakes his head while laughing at your misery, "I thought, "who is this five-foot woman hiding in the back","

"Wow." You gasp, not believing his audacity. But you're also thankful that he makes talking to him so easy. The way your conversations goes from funny to serious is so seamless, all because Jungkook knows exactly how to turn the wheels around.

"Kidding. I actually recognized you by your blouse..." he gestures at your baby blue polo sleeves, making you furrow your brows, not quite sure how he meant. But then, he continues, "Did the ink ever come off?"

Oh. Right! He had seen you wear the blouse before and even heard you tell him the story about how the jammed printer caused a blot of ink to stain your cuff.

You're surprised he even remembers that. It seems so long ago.

Raising your arm to examine the cuff area of your blouse, you look at it with small amusement.

"Yeah, it did, actually."

"How did you do it?"

You deadpan, "You're not asking me how I do my laundry, Jungkook."

"Hey, I love doing laundry," You raise your brow, not believing him, but Jungkook insists. "No, I really do."

"Okay." You nod, chuckling because he really seems way too eager to prove to you that he loves doing laundry.

What you've found out about him so far is so... mesmerizing, to say the least. With how he looks like – you meant, the tattoos and the body – you would most likely assume he likes guy stuff. You know, big macho man stuff like that. But turns out, he's just a guy who likes big TVs and NatGeo and... laundry.

He's such a fascinating person.

"I'm also not your boss." Jungkook suddenly says, making you look up at him.

"Well, you're CTO, you technically are." You point out.

"Technically, yes. But I don't oversee the accounting department, so you're not really working for me, which means I'm not your boss."

The mental gymnastics make you frown but you get his point.

"Okay, that's true. But still... your father is Mr. Jeon."

"Would you believe me if I denied that?" He jokes, the tilt in his voice telling you he is.

"You kind of look the same, so I probably wouldn't believe you."

"Really? A lot of people say I look more like my mother..."

You've seen the pictures. It's more of a split, really. But you can't tell him that obviously.

Silence sits in his living room for a while, the NatGeo narrator serving as background noise at this point.

You drop your chopsticks down and sigh. Jungkook looks at you with furrowed brows, worried about your sudden seriousness.

"So, you're not like weirded out about this whole thing?" You ask him straight to the point.

Joking is good, as you said. And this night is going better than you thought. But it feels like you are just glossing over the facts, and you need to address it with him lest it becomes a problem in the future. You don't know how exactly they are going to be; you just have a feeling in your heart that they are going to.

"The what?" Jungkook says, looking genuinely confused, as if he doesn't know what your deal is.

"The I'm-your-cousin's-best-friend? And the fact that you're an executive at the company I work at and we live in the same building?" You lay out, sounding exasperated now that you're taking it all out.

Jungkook stares at you for a bit.

"Why would that weird me out?"

He isn't being dense, you can see that. He's just plain confused.

You sigh once again. Seems like you've been doing a lot of that these past few days.

"Because it's just... too many eggs in the basket."

Jungkook chuckles, wiping his hands with a tissue. "Isn't it good you have many eggs in the basket?"

You glare at him, and it makes him raise his hands as a peace offering.

"It's bad because..."

"... because?" Jungkook, now with his hands clean, props an elbow on the coffee table, looking right into your eyes as he leans closer to your direction.

You look away.

"Because it means I can't hang out with you anymore."

When you look at him again, the smile is wiped off his face, suddenly exchanged with a frown.

"Why?"

"Because again, it's too many eggs in the basket and—" Running out with metaphors, you say the first thing that was off the top of your head, "That makes you my uncle."

Jungkook's jaw drops a bit.

"Your thought process really amazes me."

You grimace, already expecting that. "Thanks, I get that a lot."

"No, it's really... interesting."

He doesn't look judgmental at all, just full of genuine awe, but you're eager to come to your own defense and so you say, "You don't get it? It's like—" You fling your hands around, trying to explain what you just said. "You don't have a close relationship with your uncle, right? 'Cause it's awkward. When you're with them it's like being with your boss, which means you can't be friends with them 'cause, again, it's awkward."

Jungkook still looks like he doesn't know what the hell you're talking about, but he nods his head, nonetheless.

"Okay... but I have a very close relationship with the CEO..."

You pout. "That's not what I meant."

And when he chuckles at that, you know he's fucking with you and understand exactly what you were trying to say; fooling around as if you aren't having an internal crisis.

Jungkook must've seen how you're genuinely not finding anything funny and stops.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me the past few days?" He raises his brow, but his voice is gentle as he speaks.

You didn't think he'd confront you about that, but you decide to look away when you try to lie as an answer.

"No...?"

Jungkook only chuckle at your indignation.

"Okay, okay, let's divide and conquer, yeah?" He smiles at you. Warm and soft. "First, you're Jimin's best friend, what's the issue? It just means you must be a good person to hang around with because you're friends with the person I'm close to. Second, I'm not your boss, will you please stop saying that? And third, we're neighbors... so what? We just happened to rent in the same building. No big deal."

Your frown just gets deeper at what he said because... he's right. So right.

You overreacted the whole time you tried to hide from him.

With nothing else to add, you weakly ask, "Okay but... can you fire me?"

In your head, it's a relevant question. You don't know how the chain of command worked at the company. He's an executive which probably means he has firing rights, right? What if he finds you too rude towards him over the past few days that he wants to take your job away from you? Can he fire you because of personal vendetta?

"Asking the important question?" Jungkook teases.

"Damn straight, I am. I mean, I did complain to you about my job before, and it turns out you're one of the executives at the company."

"I can see the wheels in your head turning but sorry to say I'm not actually an official executive. I'm just an interim CTO. And no, I don't have the right to fire you," Jungkook chuckles, seemingly amused at your thoughts. "And you can complain to me about your job all you want."

You send him a suspicious look.

"No, thank you."

"Seriously?" He asks incredulously. "Interim CTO or Jimin's cousin or not, I'm still Jeon Jungkook. Just your plain ol' neighbor."

"You say that but what if I arrive to my desk tomorrow with my things packed because you told Ms. Jung all the things I told you about her?" You squint your eyes at him.

"God, you're unbelievable." Jungkook says in between his laughter.

"Okay, but I wanna ask you something." You say. Jungkook hums. "I'm curious... why here?"

It isn't like your apartment complex is abominable or anything of the sort. When you were still on the look-out of apartments five years ago, here was the only decent one that did not cause you a 3-month pay. It's why you chose it in the first place. The unit is big enough for yourself and it's located at the center of the city, which means that it's near establishments that are relevant to your daily living. The bus station is also just a few minutes walk, and it only takes you an hour commute to get to your company building. It was the best out of all your choices back then.

However, for a guy like Jungkook, you wonder why he isn't at the big shot complexes like in Cheongdam or Hannam. You don't doubt he can afford those.

But Jungkook surprises you with his answer.

"It's cheaper."

You can't help but raise your brow.

"What?" And then as if realizing your look, Jungkook chuckles. "Oh, I see... you think I'm, like, rich?"

You shrug.

Jungkook answer with a simple, "My parents are loaded. And anyway, it's near the company. I also really like it here so far. Hannam felt like prison when I stayed there in my first week. Guards were way too strict."

Nodding, you recall Jimin's stories about that gated community when he himself stayed there for merely three months. It makes sense for it to almost seem like prison, though, given that most people who live there are high profile.

"I commute on my way to work. What about you?"

"I bought a parking spot nearby; it's surprisingly cheap compared to America."

You wouldn't know because you've never had a car in your life. First of all, you refuse to apply for a driving license because you're sure you'll kill yourself on the road. Besides, cars are expensive. You'll stick to your buses and trains all your life even though commuting sucks ass sometimes.

But you nod at Jungkook's words.

Soon, you both engage in more conversation about yourselves until you notice the time.

"It's getting late, I should go. I have work tomorrow." You tell him with a pout, genuinely disappointed about having to go.

Jungkook looks over at the clock hanging on his wall and then turns to you, "We have work tomorrow, you mean."

You blush at that for no reason.

"Well..."

"Okay, I'll walk you to your place."

"What?" You laugh. "That's ridiculous."

"What's ridiculous about it? You're so short, the crickets might attack you." Jungkook says with a serious face.

That makes you frown instantly.

"Ugh, you've got to stop saying that. I'm starting to dislike you."

"Hmm."

Jungkook indeed followed you on your way out, though, but not without you insisting that he didn't need to walk you to your door because it was literally just across his, but Jungkook was persistent and you had no choice but to walk the five steps it took to get in front of your apartment from his own.

He's still laughing when your face is still contorted into an unpleasant expression.

"Okay, good night." You say. You point to his chest absent-mindedly, but you quickly take it back when you feel how hard it is. "A-and stop calling me short, I'm not. The __ karma is real, I have Jimin to prove that."

"Fine, I'll stop." Jungkook smiles, watching as you enter your threshold.

"Good."

You stand on your door, leaning over the frame and not closing it just yet.

Jungkook gives you a heart-warming smile before he says, "See you tomorrow."

And he speaks the words so gently that you feel your cheeks heating once again.

"S-see you as well."

"You look banging in that polo shirt." Jimin says, obviously chatting you up because the moment you accepted his call earlier this morning, you did not hesitate to tell him off about going MIA on you so suddenly.

"It's literally just a plain white polo."

"Okay, and you still look good in it, so..." He shrugs, but you can see the look on his face, sheepish and apologetic.

You scoff.

"You can't compliment me out of sulking. I'm mad at you."

There's a pout that forms on his lips quickly; a tactic so predictable you almost roll your eyes.

"I know... but I told you! Joon and I spent the last week—"

"Fucking each other to Sunday and back, blah blah blah. Still, you could've told me you went to Italy, you slut."

Jimin lets out a loud laugh at your blunt words.

"Slut shaming in the big year of 2028? I thought you were better than that." He shakes his head, pretending to be pointed and curt with the bitchy look on his face. But you know he's just teasing to get you out of your own bitchy mode as well.

It works every time.

You don't fight the way your eyes roll on their own accord as a response this time. Jimin compromises, "Okay, I'm sorry! For not telling. It's just that I've turned off my phone for the past week because I'm sure dad and his secretary are going to blow up my phone— they are, by the way, so cut me some slack."

Forgiveness comes easy when you take into consideration what he's been through for the past few weeks. The spontaneous trip to Italy and him flying along with his boyfriend may come off as immature, but you know deep inside he's just wanting to get away from the reality of his life: which is pretty much toxic family with incredibly high expectations and boring ass management school.

You are certain they are giving him shit, and you don't need to add more to that.

It's 7:20 and you're currently prepping for work. Privacy is almost moot in your friendship with Jimin, so you're quite literally dressing up in front of him on call, sweeping your hair to the side as you pull up your trousers.

"Okay... are you having fun there?" You ask instead.

Jimin smiles a knowing grin. "Babe, I just told you me and my boyfriend are having sex 24/7 in here, I'm having the most fun in my life."

You button your trousers and groan at his words.

"I wish I was also in Italy."

"I mean, you could."

You give him a look.

"And what? Third wheel you and Joon? No thanks."

Jimin just shrugs, the angle of his camera going shaky for a bit as he moves to lay on what you assume is his bed.

"I don't know, girl, maybe you'll find a nice Italian man here."

That earns him a snort from you while you duck to wear your sandals.

"I've long forgotten that fantasy since I was 19."

"You're not a stranger to relapsing..." Jimin clocks and that makes you shoot up straight so he can see the look of incredulity on your face as an immediate reaction to what he just said.

"Rude!"

Jimin just snorts. "Okay but for real, how are things going over there for you?"

You sigh. "Same old, same old. Pretty and single and working a very boring job."

Your best friend can't help but mirror the wince on your face.

"You could change the last two but never the first one, babe. So, you see, you're still miles ahead." He says as a matter of fact, sounding like he's giving out some sort of motivational speech.

"Lucky me," you noted with a straight face. You start rummaging your bag to see if you got everything you need. Then, there's something at the tip of your tongue. Something you've been wanting to open up to him. So, you start by clearing your throat – subtly, you hope.

"But you know, life's pretty... eventful the past few days."

Jimin quirks his eyebrow at that, obviously catching onto what could possibly be a new news.

You bite your lower lip, nibbling on it slightly as you contemplate whether to tell him about what you've been up to.

For some weird reason, you still haven't told him about Jungkook, and it seems like Jungkook has made good on his promise not to tell your best friend because if he did break it, Jimin would be inquiring you all about it now.

You figure now is sort of the perfect time to... maybe tell him.

"Uh, well... not eventful, per se, just a little..." you trailed off, finding a bit of uncertainty in your voice. You see Jimin's face morphing into more of a confused look rather than intrigued as the second passes. Pursing your lips into a thin line, you finish your previous sentence with, "Just a little different, I guess."

"Don't edge me, I swear to god." Jimin threatens playfully, making you chuckle.

"It's not something groundbreaking, okay? It's just the, uh, do you still remember Mr—"

The yawn that Jimin lets out stops you from completing your words, and you remember him mentioning a while ago that it's currently midnight from where he is.

"Ugh," Jimin groans, "Sorry, I slept so late yesterday. Anyway, go on, what were you saying?"

The uncertainty you felt a while ago increases, and you decide that maybe, now is so not the perfect time to bring up Jungkook, his cousin.

So, you shake your head, smiling at him, packing the words of your confession in a box that that you place at the back of your head, ready for unpacking when the time calls for it – which you don't exactly know when.

"Nah, go to sleep. This conversation can wait."

"You're gonna kill me with curiosity."

Rolling your eyes, you make a gesture of shoving him.

"I have to catch up with my bus soon, anyway." You say, dodging his insistence.

"Just tell me pretty please, I won't be able to sleep!" He dramatically says.

You roll your eyes again at the theatrics.

"It's really nothing big."

Well, it is. Sort of. Or maybe it's not, and you're just doing that thing again where you put too much thought over something inconsequential.

You swear you were ready to tell him about Jungkook, having even hyped yourself in the bathroom a few days ago and practicing what you're going to tell Jimin. But as of this moment, right now, it suddenly feels... unimportant. Not in a negative way. Just in a... does-it-really-matter way.

Jimin will find out eventually. But not now when you're not totally ready.

"I know what this is," Jimin suddenly says. At his suspicious tone, your heart starts to pick up the rate of its beat. You can see the way Jimin squints his eyes at you, and you wish he doesn't see the way you're slightly frozen. "You got back with your ex, Hansung."

You hope he sees the disgust on your face the moment he let out the words.

"Oh my god, hell no!" Is your instant response. Just hearing that name again made the hairs on your nape rise. "Jimin, what the fuck."

Jimin rolls his eyes. "You look so nervous, that's how you look like when you're about to tell me you've done something stupid."

Okay, fair. The assumption is coming from a valid basis. It makes you frown at him.

"You're such a bitch." Jimin laughs at the way you deflate. You let out a sign. "It's just... Taemu. From the IT dep."

"That guy?!" He exclaims and quickly covers his mouth. "The cute guy you refused to date a second time... you're finally dating him again?"

"What do you mean, finally?" You narrow your eyes at him, surprise at the positive comment about Taemu. "Jesus, I thought you were with me when I said I found him boring."

"What can I say? He can be cute and boring." He points out, as if he did not talk behind the Taemu's back when you ranted about the guy to him.

"You're fake as hell." You laugh, unbelieving.

Jimin joins your laughter, finding his sudden switch up funny as well.

"But you're, for real, dating him again? It means he still likes you?" He asks, obviously intrigued at this newfound information.

Unfortunately, it's a bit of a lie. You feel bad, but it is a great scapegoat to dodge the bullet of the conversation about Jungkook.

"I don't know... we're talking."

Which, for once, is true. Taemu and you did not exactly end on a good note (courtesy to you, boo), but you work in the same company, after all. There are times in the company's cafeteria where you bump into him, and it would have felt weird if you just snub him and act like you did not have an acquaintanceship before he asked you out to a date. Taemu's ultimately still your friend, and there are no hard feelings on his part, you can confidently say. He's... nice, you guess. Somehow of an afterthought. You're starting to think you completely misjudged him on your first date.

You take a quick trip to the fridge to grab a glass of cold water since Jimin is on loudspeaker anyway.

"That reminds me," Jimin suddenly quips. You hum to acknowledge him. "My cousin now works at your company, right? You still remember Jungkook? Have you met him yet?"

You couldn't help it; the water splattered all over the place when you heard Jungkook's name from his mouth.

Jimin quickly asks you a series of "are you okays" and you respond with a "yes" that's interrupted with a cough every time; a weak nod with a raised hand, telling him not to worry.

"Water just got in the wrong track." You reason, coughing and slapping your chest to regain your breathing. When you see wet spots on your shirt, you let out a whiny groan.

"You're so jumpy today. You're sure you're fine?" Jimin checks once again, and you have to bite your tongue to not show the way you froze a little at his observation.

You nod at him, showing him an expression that hopefully conveys he's the one being weird and definitely not you.

"Yeah, it's fine." You look down on your shirt. You're debating whether to stick with it and just let it dry in the bus later or completely change out of it. "But uh, your cousin! I did see him. We had a ceremony a week ago."

You would've said that with a smile, but Jimin knows you too well that he'll surely know it's fake. So, you spoke with an almost straight face. What Jimin says next surprises you a bit, though.

"I hope you meet each other," Jimin's excitement is visible on his face. "It'd be kinda fun; my closest cousin and my best friend... imagine that? I think you'll like each other." He seems to be so geeked about the idea that even when you're internally having a crisis, you can't help but find it cute. But then his smile gets wiped off his lips just as quickly as it showed. "It'd be awkward, though. He's, kinda like, your boss, right?"

You suddenly remember Jungkook's words about him not being your boss. It makes your lips curl, but you have to shake off the thought.

You give him a hesitant look.

"Well, not really, but he's an executive. So... it would be awkward. I guess."

Jimin nods, agreeing with you.

"It's crazy though, I never thought he'd be working at uncle's company so soon..." He trails off and he looks deep in thought, like his words were just supposed to be inner thoughts and you're not supposed to hear them. But he shakes his head after a while, moving on to another subject that makes you quietly sigh in relief. "Anyway, I'm sure I'm keeping you up. I'll sleep and you better tell me all about Kang Taemu when I wake up, okay?"

You chuckle, shaking your head at the threatening tone of his voice.

"I will. When will you come home, anyway?"

He groans, obviously not wanting to discuss home for the reasons you know exactly what. He confirms your assumption by telling so.

"Honestly, I don't know. I'm trying to avoid responsibilities as much as I can. God, I wish you were also here. There's a bar Joon and I discovered that sells these insane bottomless mimosas."

Before you could reply, Jimin goes off the frame suddenly, but the lower part of his face makes you see the way his lips curling up into a smile and saying, "Hey, hon."

There's a greeting from another person on the other end of the line – one that you are certainly familiar with.

Jimin moves his camera and as expected, you see Namjoon waving at you.

"Hey, __,"

You mirror the smile on his face. "Hi, Joon."

"Let's not keep her up. She has to go to work," Jimin tells Namjoon. "Anyway, bye. Kick some ass at work."

Laughing, you tell them, "I'll be off. Good night to you both."

When the call ends, you look down to your shirt once again, seeing that the little wet spots still haven't dried yet. Sighing, you decide to change out of it because it looked untidy.

Too bad you didn't check the time when you were doing it though, because as soon as you were done buttoning the new shirt you've worn, the clock hits 7:55 am. You bus arrives at exactly 8 am.

"Shit." You hiss, scrambling out of the apartment hoping that you can somehow run your way fast to the station and hop on it on time.

But you're no The Flash or Usain Bolt. To piss you off more, the strap of your bag got caught up with the handle of your door.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" You whisper, hastily untangling the strap off the door which won't let up.

"__?" As soon as you hear the familiar voice, you stop with what you were doing and turn to Jungkook, conjuring up a what you can only hope a pleasant enough smile.

"Hey!" You say, chirpy in that weird way. You hope he didn't catch you cursing the door.

But with the way he was looking at your hand on your door, you knew he did.

Sigh. He just really has to catch you in your most vulnerable moments, huh?

"Good morning," Jungkook greets with a smile, ignoring the case at hand. As usual, he looks put together with his sleek suit and styled hair and eyeglasses.

"Morning," You say, slowly taking off the strap around the handle, gentle and slower this time.

Fucking door handle, you thought bitterly.

As you do that, you catch a glimpse of your wristwatch. Shoot.

You look back at Jungkook apologetically, moving away from your porch. "Nice seeing you. I have to catch my bus."

"When is it coming?"

"At exactly... two minutes from now. Bye! Gotta run!" You were about ready to literally run but Jungkook calls out your name.

"Wait!"

You stop coming down the flight of stairs to ask him, "What?"

"I can drive us together there."

"Oh," You slap your hands on your trousers. "That's so nice of you. Thank you—" And then suddenly, his words register, and you take back your quick agreement. You hate that you're so slow sometimes, but it's innate at this point. "I mean, no! That's a nice offer, but no, thank you."

"You won't catch your bus at this point," Jungkook says as a matter of fact, even taking a quick glance at his own watch. He begins to walk down the stairs to walk with you. "It only takes thirty minutes to drive by car to the company." When it takes you long to answer, Jungkook insists, already predicting the "no" that you're going to hit him with. "Come on, do you want to be late?"

"No."

Jungkook smiles at you. "Okay, so...?"

You purse your lips into a thin line, blowing your bangs and giving him a sheepish look.

"Okay, fine. But I owe you."

The smile on his face only grows wider. "More than fine by me."

He leads you both to the parking building nearby where his car was, only taking about a few minutes to walk towards.

When Jungkook points at his car, you follow his behind him shortly, stopping on the one side of the door. You're just about to open it when you feel Jungkook looming behind you, his hand extended forward to open the same door. You stretch your neck to look at him in question, making sure to keep a decent distance between you both.

"Uh...?" You utter.

And then it hits you.

He's trying to open the door for you.

You take a step back after the realization, feeling shy about the prospect of such a chivalrous act from him.

"This is the driver's seat."

"Oh!" You exclaimed. Eyes widening, you walk backwards to give him more space. "Yeah! Fuck... sorry," You apologize, cheeks starting to heat in embarrassment.

You round about the car and enter the passenger seat quickly, seeing Jungkook already set in his own place. You look to the side, almost pressing yourself to the window just so he won't see the way you wince.

So fucking embarrassing. This is exactly what you write about in your diary during high school days.

"Your seatbelt," Jungkook says, and you look at him with widened eyes. Right. You were way too deep in embarrassment that you forgot about it. You fiddle with the seatbelt a few seconds before he speaks once again, "Let me."

And you couldn't have stopped him from leaning closer to you to grab the seatbelt and wear it around your waist, carefully and gently, making you hitch your breath at the sudden proximity.

Of course you've noticed it way before, but this is the first time you were close enough to deduce that he smells like green apple and fresh laundry. A little different from the musky scent that you were used to smelling on men that you've been with before.

"There." He smiles at you before sitting back on his chair, wearing his own seatbelt.

You are way too stunned to acknowledge what he did that for the first few minutes, you're just quiet, mind flying to some place. You only snap out of it when Jungkook speaks again.

"Slept late last night?"

You shake your head at his question. "No... just facetime with Jimin this morning. You were right to tell me not to worry, he's with Joon."

Jungkook nods at your words, turning the ignition of the car. He starts to reverse, and you feel yourself growing embarrassingly hot when he does the thing of putting his arm around the back of your seat while the other spins the wheel, stretching his neck to look back.

You decide to look away for your own sake.

"Uh, anyway, I'm really sorry."

"Hm?" Jungkook hums, eyes on the road as he starts driving.

If you think about it, you were just at his place a few nights ago eating dinner with him, and now, you somehow find yourself in his car as he drives you both to work. His constant kindness is not lost on you... but Jungkook's casualty makes it seem like this is just his plain nature.

You quirk your head to the side.

"Are you free later for lunch?"

"I can arrange my sched. Why?"

"Do you want to go together?" You ask. You'd say the offer is a form of compensation for his help today, but getting lunch together for the pure sake of it doesn't sound bad, either. Both works, so you're only a bit hopeful as you try to look for his reaction.

Jungkook has a hint of surprise on his face when he takes a quick look at you before turning his attention back on the road.

"Really?" There's a little lilt to his voice, as if he's not surer if you're being serious.

You shrug to appear casual. "If you're not too busy, that is."

He shakes his head, smiling. "Where are we going?"

"You're gonna find out later." You tell him. Jungkook cocks his head to the side, intrigued.

"Okay... where should I meet you, then? At your office?"

"Oh, god, no." Is your quick response. Jungkook immediately looks at you in offense, but it's more like amusement when he stares longer. At that, you wave your hand so he doesn't get the wrong idea. "No, no, I mean— it's just rude if an executive, like, comes to our office."

"You're still not hung up on the boss thing?" You roll your eyes at his teasing tone which earns a hearty chuckle from Jungkook. He shakes his head playfully at you. "I doubt anyone would care."

You jut your bottom lip out because he's probably right. But still, your co-workers would ask, and you're not trying to dig yourself a hole by making yourself news of the day because the newly appointed interim CTO just walked into your office for what? Lunch? The HR would have a field day.

"Maybe we can meet at the parking lot?" You offer, thinking it's the sensible place.

Jungkook smiles. "Alright."

You had to stay behind Joonhwi and Sol as lunch came, making an excuse about going out with a friend as opposed to not coming with them. In your head, you think you were doing Joonhwi a favor.

After that, you were welcomed with text from Jungkook when you turned on your phone. It said he was already at the basement where he parked earlier, so it wasn't exactly hard to spot him right away the moment you got there.

The drive to your destination was quick enough to only amount to around fifteen minutes. As soon as Jungkook managed to park his car somewhere, you lead him to where the place you'd chosen for lunch.

When he finally registered where you were, his amusement does not go unnoticed.

"I've always wanted to go here," He tells you, looking around the stores in-line by the street.

You look back at him in surprise.

"You haven't been here?" Jungkook nods and you want to ask him if he's kidding around, but then you realize he's no ordinary person like most of the people you know in your life, recalling that Jimin's first time in a marketplace like this was only when you introduced him to it during sophomore year. "But you eat street food, right?" You ask him, even though you know he does. You did spend nights on that food truck around your building.

"Of course I do," Jungkook chuckles, rubbing a hand at the back of his head, seemingly shy. "I just never tried it here."

You give him a wide grin. "You're gonna enjoy it here. Follow me, I have a favorite store here that sells really good hotteok."

You spent the better part of the morning thinking about the place where you can bring him, opting out of going to cafes and restaurant because it was just getting kind of old. Aside from the fact that you stopped going to the food truck across your apartment building, it's also been a while since you enjoyed some street food yourself. You're also delighted to know that this is apparently Jungkook's first time going here.

The area is usually livelier in the later hours of the night, but there are still a lot of people by lunch time. Students, civilians, tourists... a usual day in Seoul, you can say.

When you reach the hotteok stall, you ask for your usual right away, almost asking the same thing for Jungkook but remember that he might actually want something else.

"Do you want other flavors instead?" You look back at him while he stands behind you with his hands in his pockets. He's forgone the coat – it's somewhere in his car seat – which left him with his usual polo shirt, sleeves folded up to his forearms. He kind of looks broody with his stance and you know... the exposed tattoos – but he looks adorable when he gives you that familiar easy-going smile at your question.

"I'll have whatever you're having."

You're hungry for a while now so you don't wait a long time to take a bite of the hotteok when it's finally served. It's hot, and Jungkook laughs as you learn it the hard way, sputtering as you move the food away from you.

"Fuck!" You curse, blowing air and fanning your mouth which doesn't really do anything.

"Slow down," Jungkook says in between his chuckles. You feel his arm resting on your back as some sort of support. "I'll get you some water."

It only takes him a few seconds to stop by a nearby stall to get you some bottled water, and you thank him after drinking it quickly.

"Sorry 'bout that," You apologize, smiling sheepishly.

"There's a—" Jungkook gestures at his mouth. You arch your brow at him, a bit confused. He tries again. "Something in your—" He interrupts himself, shaking his head, and takes out a handkerchief from the depths of his slacks.

Your immediate reaction is to take a few steps back when he goes to wipe at your mouth. Jungkook stops, pausing his movement. You give him an awkward thumbs up which prompts him to continue.

"Done."

You choose to gloss over that occurrence, taking another bite of hotteok after that.

"You know I always wondered why I don't see you going out of your apartment every morning." You start a conversation while you walk together mindlessly.

"You wonder... why?" Jungkook looks at you for a brief moment. With a teasing grin, he says, "You wanna see me every day?"

You gasp.

"Gross, Jungkook." You say, absolutely scandalized at what he said.

He just laughs, shaking his head, amused at your reaction. It makes you roll your eyes.

"I just figured you don't commute so you don't need to leave early." You tell him.

You notice he seems to be extra playful today.

"Oh, yeah, that's right."

"Lucky you. I'm so sick of commuting."

"You don't like driving?"

You shake your head, "I don't know how to drive, and I don't have any intention to."

"I think I've heard that from Joon before." Jungkook chuckles.

"Oh yeah, he told me one time he'll most probably kill himself if he drives. Which– same."

Jungkook bites on his hotteok, chews on it for a while before saying, "That's what I thought when I started to drive a motorcycle."

You almost snap your head to look at him.

"You drive a motorcycle?" You ask, just to be sure you heard him right.

Jungkook nods. "Hm."

"Oh, wow... that must be..." You trail off, looking blankly ahead of you.

Well, now you can't get it out of your head. Jungkook riding a motorcycle with his tattoos out. Jungkook riding a motorcycle with a leather jacket.

Ugh. You told yourself you were gonna forget about the stupid crush! This is so counterproductive. There's nothing special about a man who drives a motorcycle! Not at all.

"Must be...?" Jungkook curiously asks you.

"Nerve-wracking." You say, which you think is a fair answer. He doesn't have to know that you're thinking about a totally different thing.

He nods. "It was for the first time. Mom always gives me an earful whenever I use it." He shakes his head while laughing.

You can't help but ask.

"You're close with your mom?" It only registers to you that the question must be way too privy, but Jungkook doesn't seem to think so as he answers casually right away.

"Yeah. She was really glad when I came home."

You smile. You once thought he's close with his family... turns out you aren't exactly wrong.

"That's sweet."

He just gives you a soft smile. "You?"

"Oh, me? She, uh, died awhile ago. So."

The smile on Jungkook's face falters.

"That... sucks."

"Thanks." And then it makes you laugh. "You know most people say sorry. You're the first one to say it sucks."

"I..." Jungkook seems to track back on what he said. "I mean, I'm sorry, of course. But it must suck, right? I just... love my mom a lot. Can't imagine losing her."

You nod, completely understanding where he's coming from.

All your life, people have always felt sorry for you for losing your mom, your only parent. Of course, you're thankful for the sympathy, but sometimes... you just need someone to be real with it. Someone to say it sucks – because losing a parent is hard. Losing a mother suck.

"You're not so bad, Jungkook." you comment after a while, and as you take a quick look at Jungkook, you see him in another light. The same light you see a person in when you figure you want to befriend them and be in their life.

"What do you mean by that?" Jungkook asks with an arched brow.

You shake your head, smile not going away.

"Nothing!"

Jungkook annoyed you some more about it and you had to laugh at his curiosity because it was funny the way he insisted about something really inconsequential. Even when you went to another stall to buy some drinks, he still tried to bring up the same thing, but you're more stubborn than him so of course his efforts did not bear any fruit.

After a while, you sit on some bench while you eat tornado fries.

"I don't like this." You say, looking at your stick and frowning. Turning to Jungkook, you extend your tornado fries to him. "Try this one."

He takes a bite from your own stick. Surprisingly, he seems to like it.

"You wanna exchange?" He offers his cheesy tornado fries in exchange with your sour barbecue-flavored one. You nod, taking it from him. Jungkook chuckles at you. "I told you to get that one."

"I was feeling experimental." You tell him simply.

When you were in front of the stall, you told him how you didn't like sour barbecue at all but still wanted to give it a try. Obviously, that did not go well. Good thing Jungkook bought the cheesy flavor, though.

From your peripheral vision, you see a group of what seems to be a group of teenage girls sitting on the bench across from you. Judging from the very familiar uniform, they're in high school. They've been there for a while now and you notice they've been stealing glances at your direction.

You glance at Jungkook and snort.

"Looks like someone here has some admirers from Seoul High School." You tease Jungkook. He does not seem to notice the girls at all, looking at you with confusion first before turning his head to look across.

In a second, Jungkook turns uncomfortable in his seat.

"That's Seoul High School?"

You laugh at the obvious way he ignores them looking at him. Still, you nod your head at his question, "Yup. Went there."

You subtly look at the girls' direction again, catching them do the same and you can just see Jungkook's ears getting red by the second, visibly embarrassed at the unwanted attention.

"That's just across my high school." He casually says, trying so hard not to mind the girls.

"No way!" You gasp. "Yongsan International?"

He nods.

"The cheerleading teams on both schools used to have, like, this big beef before, you know that?" You tell him, ready to lay out the huge gossip that happened in your batch. And then you remember, "Oh. You've probably graduated when I entered senior year in high school."

Jungkook gives you a look. "Rude. I'm not that old."

The sass comes unexpectedly which makes you laugh out loud you almost choke on the fries.

You were just about to tease him some more when somebody approaches you both.

"U-uhm..."

When you both look at the girl, she's one from the group who was shamelessly looking towards your direction, which is obviously aimed at a specific someone by your side, Jungkook.

"Hi!" You greet cheerfully.

The girl blushes and then turns to Jungkook.

"O-oppa..." She utters, hesitant when she pulls something out of her skirt pocket. It's a small, crocheted sunflower.

You coo at the sight, looking at Jungkook in amusement. The man beside you just grow more uncomfortable in his seat. He looks so constipated, god bless him.

"My friend told me to give this to the eonni beside you."

Your smile is quickly wiped off your face the moment her words sink in, confusion slowly coming to paint your expression. You look at the girl but before you can say anything, she's already walking away as soon as Jungkook takes the crocheted flower from her. You watch as she and her friends ran, their figures slowly disappearing from your line of sight.

"Looks like you got admirers from Seoul High School." Jungkook quips beside you. "For the eonni beside me." He teases, extending the cute little flower to you.

Hesitantly, you take the flower from his hands.

"You know, it suits you." Jungkook says when you don't say anything, still stunned from the literal turn of events.

You look up, baffled. "Huh?"

"A sunflower. It suits you... you're like it." He smiles, soft and gentle. There's a look of fondness in his eyes that you couldn't have mistaken for anything else. "I'm glad they gave that to you."

You open your mouth to speak, but there's nothing at the tip of your tongue.

Shying away from his gaze, you mumble a low, "Thank you."

You don't think you hear his next word right.

"Cute."

You have a hobby of collecting hobbies instead of focusing on one thing to be good at, jumping from one activity to another, even if it means abandoning your previous thing. Hobbies for most people means time lent to be better with it every day, but in your defense, you don't necessarily think you have to be good at something.

You've tried drawing. You've tried dancing. You've tried the guitar and you've tried the ukelele and you've tried crocheting and you've tried to study astrology. You've built three huge boxes of storage containing the needed materials for each of them, but they end up collecting dust.

Why can't a hobby just stay as a hobby, anyway? Why can't you just feel goofy one day to suddenly start drawing and give up the next day the moment you realize shading is hard? Why can't you just buy dress patterns and only sew the skirt part because tops are complicated to sew? Why can't you just learn four guitar chords because it's enough to play at least five songs using them?

None of it matters, you think. People will pressure you to push and push until you can possibly capitalize on something you're good at, but it just isn't the case for you.

You'll collect all the hobbies in the world until your head is full of random things and you just burst with it.

And true to your words, you find yourself wandering about in the baking aisle of your local grocery store at the late evening hours.

Yep. It's 2028 and your hobby pick for the year is baking.

So, what if you're a disaster in the kitchen? Cooking and baking are two different worlds! At least that's what Google tried to tell you a while ago when you were cleaning your bathroom earlier this morning, suddenly craving for some matcha cookies after you were done.

It sounded about right in your head that you decided to pick up ingredients for it, deciding it will be your dinner. At the back of your head, you think you should've just gone to the hundred cafes surrounding your apartment complex like, you know, any regular person would if they're craving something. But you figured that if you know how to bake, you could get matcha cookies anytime you want.

What can you say? You like to live life on edge. (You'll probably burn yourself in the oven later, but that will just be another lesson that life is soon to give you. You're just taking it in advance.)

But living on edge doesn't mean getting your card declined when you turn it to the cashier to supposedly pay for your grocery.

"I'm so sorry, uhm, can I have a few seconds, please?" You tell the cashier, giving her an awkward smile as you grab your wallet from your tote bag again, taking your card from her. You take another one of your debit cards this time and offer it to her, subtly looking around in hopes that no one is watching.

"Oh, we don't accept debit cards issued by this bank, ma'am." She says, and you're just about ready to dig yourself a hole from this complete, utter embarrassment.

"Okay..." you trail off nervously, glancing at the computer to look at your total. "I'll just pay in cash."

You do not, in fact, have enough cash.

You can tell the cashier is getting impatient from the way she shifts her weight from one side to another, and you keep yourself from making eye contact with her, fumbling with your wallet.

Three hundred and sixty-five days in a year and your card chose to decline on this very particular day. Why don't they accept your debit card? And why don't you have enough cash with you? Are you really this broke?

This is going to be a disaster. You can't afford to go to prison for this. Can you even go to prison for not paying grocery? Okay, maybe jail time for like 12 hours? But you have work tomorrow!

"Excuse me, miss,"

Somebody says but you refused to look at whoever it was, still counting the bills in your wallet that do not even accumulate to half the amount of your total.

"You can charge her bill here."

At that, your head quickly snap to the owner of the voice only to reveal himself as no other than Jeon Jungkook.

You swear you almost sigh in relief at the sight of him and have the sudden urge to hug him big time.

Jungkook looks at you and gives you a smile.

"Hi."

"Jungkook," you breathe. "Thank god you're here."

The cashier looks at you both weirdly but nonetheless swipes the card Jungkook gave her., instructing him to type his code on the key pad. There's nobody in line for the cashier you went to other than you both because it is too late an hour to be getting groceries, so Jungkook is able to butt in seamlessly and get his cart checked out as well.

"You're very much welcome." He says warmly.

Jungkook's dressed just as casually as you; a combination of simple white t-shirt and shorts and a pair of sliders. His grocery contains a lot different than yours, showing all sorts of food ingredients. You wait for his stuff to get bagged until you both head out of the store.

His car was just parked nearby, so you follow him towards its direction to apologize.

"I'm so, so sorry for earlier. I'll pay you later when we get home, of course." You say, just now registering how embarrassing it is for him to catch you in that situation. You're no stranger to getting your card declined... but really, now?

You decide to add awkwardly, "Or... do you have Kakao Pay?"

Jungkook chuckles while he opens his trunk, picking up his bags of groceries to place them in there. He shakes his head, keeping his hand outstretched to upwards to hold the hood of his car.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it."

You're about to speak in protest when he gestures at the bag in your hands, as if asking you to place it in the trunk as well. You shake your head repeatedly.

"No, it's okay, I'm just gonna take a cab home." You say, pointing to your back where the street is, politely refusing his obvious offer to drive you home.

He's done too much in the span of ten minutes you've seen each other tonight. He's paid for your groceries for heaven's sake, and he still has the intention to drive you again to your destination? Not adding the fact that he also just drove you to work yesterday to keep you from being late. It's like he's just doing you heaps of favors and so far, you've done nothing in return.

"__, please, I'm offering." Jungkook insists. As usual. "I really don't mind."

Shoulders deflating, you let out a sigh.

"It's just that..." You start, nibbling on your bottom lip.

"What?"

"You've just been doing me a lot of favors lately." You say, looking away from his gaze.

Jungkook calls your name gently. You train your gaze at him. He steps closer to you and gives your shoulder a soft tap. "Hey, I'm not counting."

The words in itself aren't all that special, but the way he said it and the way he looked at you while he did may have just did a little damage to your heart because why did it seem so genuine?

Still, you shy away.

"It's just really embarrassing." You say, out of argument now.

Jungkook lets out a sound of amusement and takes the bag from your hands. He didn't even give you the chance to protest before he managed to put it successfully in the trunk of his car, together with his own groceries.

"Why don't you pay me back by helping me make dinner tonight?" Jungkook muses.

You give him a weird look.

"You really want me in a kitchen? Have you not listened to my horror stories this whole time, Jungkook?"

He laughs as he leads you both inside his car. You follow quietly behind but this time, you don't mistake the passenger seat from the driver's seat and instantly wear your seatbelt as soon as you're sat.

"I dunno, I'm just offering. I thought it'll be fun." He shrugs, turning on the ignition of the car and starting to drive back to the apartment building.

"Okay, I can at least chop some onions and garlic..." You trail off. And then you remember as an afterthought, "Oh, I'm actually baking tonight as well."

Jungkook takes a quick surprise glance at you. "You never told me you know how."

You snort. "I don't know how, trust me. I'm just starting right now."

"Is that why you went out grocery shopping tonight?" He arches a brow.

"Yep. Totally a spontaneous thing. I wanted, like, this very specific matcha cookie..."

Jungkook laughs. "Should I help you with the baking as well? I might learn from you."

"Really? You want to help?" You ask him delightfully.

He nods, making your grin wider.

"Sounds fun."

You both agreed to cook and bake at his place, partly because you personally are not ready for him to see your own flat. When you get inside his unit, Jungkook cutely bragged about his table set that just arrived earlier this morning according to him.

Personally, you've barely cooked at your own place let alone somebody else's. The one time you were in someone else's kitchen was Jimin's but even then, it was just to microwave some pizza and other take-out food.

It should feel weird to be prepping ingredients with someone, to move around the kitchen with the goal to make yourself a homecooked meal – especially with somebody like Jungkook – but truthfully, it felt almost... natural. Probably because you're conversing casually while you're doing things so there isn't any awkward silence.

You're making tangsuyuk, according to him, and he's obviously taking the lead – expertly prepping the meat while you go chop some spices needed for the dish.

"Is this okay?" You ask, showing him your work. You hope he likes it because you're kind of under a weird pressure to be in here, helping him. Also, you're not sure if you minced the garlic right.

But Jungkook just gives you a hearty smile.

"Good girl."

And goes back to what he's doing as if he just said nothing.

Which—okay, he seemed to have unconsciously said it that now you're gaslighting yourself whether you heard him right or not. Did he really say what you think he just said? What the fucking fuck.

Thankfully, Jungkook's too busy to notice that you become a bit frozen in your position for a good ten seconds. If he truly didn't mean to say that, he needs to get those words out of his vocabulary before he sends you in a sudden cardiac arrest. It'd be the most mysterious death of humanity.

"Do you need the carrots?" You ask, raising the vegetable in your hand.

Jungkook nods and you start to peel it. He watches by your side when you begin slicing the carrot.

"Cut them into Julienne slices."

"Huh?" You look back at him. "Not the cooking jargon, Kook." You deadpan, the nickname seamlessly coming out of your mouth.

He apologizes and tells you exactly what he meant. You furrow your brows in concentration to achieve what he wants, but Jungkook just laughs beside you.

"Okay, let me just—"

He's behind you a second after that, towering over your form and circling his arms around you. Your breath hitches as Jungkook places his hand on top of yours – the one that holds the knife – and begins to guide you through slicing the carrot.

You can feel his breathing from the proximity of your position, and even though there's still distance between the both of you, it's only hairsbreadth away and frankly, the ridges of the front of his body are so prominent against your back.

Jungkook does not seem to face the same internal panic as you though, because as soon as he deems that you are staring to get it, he steps back and let you do the thing on your own.

He leans back on the countertop, crossing his arms while looking at you.

"You're not so bad at this like you claimed." He comments.

You feel your cheeks heating up, so you focus your full attention on the carrot, your hands seemingly having developed a mind of their own throughout the time. Well, at least it's doing the right job. You can only hope you don't slice through your fingers... imagine cutting them right into this very moment.

"This is a trauma response from watching too much Gordon Ramsay."

Jungkook chuckles at your joke, shaking his head.

"We're just gonna wait for another thirty minutes for the meat and the mushroom. Should we start baking? What do we do first?" He says, washing his hands first before walking towards your direction.

You take your phone out from your pocket, looking at him a bit apologetically as you say "sorry" for pulling up Google. For the record, you haven't memorized shit and this is your first time baking.

Jungkook shakes his head, telling you there's no need for apologies because he "can't bake for shit" himself. That makes you feel relieved. You thought he's just good at a lot of things.

You don't encounter any trouble while mixing the dry ingredients, but when it comes to the wet ones, you think you've done something wrong. Jungkook tells you to try it. When you dip your finger into the mixture and taste it, you automatically scrunch your face.

"What, why?" Jungkook asks curiously.

"I don't think this is quite right..." You say, looking down at the mixture sadly.

"Mayve we can add more vanilla...?" He takes the bottle with him, ready to pour some into the bowl.

You pout. "But it says one teaspoon and we already put one teaspoon."

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know... give up?"

Jungkook chuckles as he says your name.

You sigh. "Okay, maybe we'll try some that."

You do as you say, and as you taste it again, you're delighted to notice the elevated flavor. Mindlessly dipping your finger again into the bowl, you offer it to Jungkook to try.

The very act just sinks into your head when he leans down to suck it off your finger.

It happened quick, not at all sensual and slow like the movies make it out to be, but you feel your heart rate picking up at the feel after-effect of Jungkook's hot tongue touching your skin. But as you look at him, his eyebrows are furrowed, assessing the taste, not at all in a trance by what just happened.

"Oh, definitely better." He comments, as if he didn't just... suck your finger?

... Which you offered.

That he took willingly.

You turn away from him and pretend to busy yourself with the electric mixer, fumbling with the paddle.

"Are you cooking the tangsuyuk yet?" You ask, changing the subject. Jungkook is completely unaware of the current chaos in your head, walking towards the refrigerator to take out the pork he marinated earlier and the bowl of mushrooms.

"Just tell me if you need help." He tells you, touching the small of your back as he passes by you to get to the stove.

You feel your cheeks heating at the touch, moving aside to let him start frying the meat with the batter he's busied himself with awhile ago.

"Shit!" You say, surprised at the sudden whir of the machine. Jungkook quickly looks at you. You laugh and give him a thumbs up. "I'm fine here!"

You both work together on your own thing, and when you let the dough to rest, Jungkook, at the same time, finishes frying the meat of the tangsuyuk. You don't want to feel useless while you don't have anything to work on, so you peer over what Jungkook is doing and ask him if you there's anything he needs.

"Do you want to make the sauce?" Jungkook asks you. You scrunch your nose and hesitantly nod. He seems to notice your uncertainty and chuckles. "I'll teach you."

"Okay, but don't blame me if it tastes like shit later, okay?" You warn but he just shrugs and laugh, telling you that he'll talk you through the process and there's no need to be nervous. You can just experiment with it a little, he says.

You've watched a lot of Hell's Kitchen episodes that you have this silly, unrealistic expectation on what goes on in kitchens, but thankfully, Jungkook isn't like Gordon Ramsay at all and is so unbelievably gentle in teaching you even when you almost spilled soy sauce on the countertop and put too much vinegar than needed. He shrugs your worries off by fixing the thing, thankful that when he offers you the ladle to taste the sauce from it, it's more than decent.

While Jungkook prepares the tangsuyuk for your dinner, you take the time to form your cookie dough into small circles, leaving it in the oven to bake while you follow Jungkook into the living room and start eating the food that you cooked – or he cooked.

Jungkook teases you that you lied about not being good at cooking, but you have to remind him you didn't do shit and only the bare minimum. He looks like he's not convinced.

By the time that you're finished with your dinner, the oven's timer went off. Jungkook insists that he wash the dishes even though you feel like you should be the one doing it, but he tells you to check your cookies in the oven and so you did.

You're not expecting anything, but it will feel really good if it tastes at least okay.

Crossed fingers, your mind says as you take out the sheet pan.

First impression: it looks okay to the eye. Like real cookies.

But soon, your parade is rained on when you try to bite into the cookie.

It looks like real cookie, all right, but apparently doesn't taste like one.

Your face contorts into a frown as soon as you bite down into it a second time.

Okay, that's it. Put them in the tupperware as soon as possible, you thought. So, you do just that, placing all of the pieces into the plastic box and securing them away.

From where you were, you can hear Jungkook shutting the water off on the sink, his footsteps coming near you. Once he gets close, he peers down at what you're doing. Intrigued, he asks for one.

"No." you shake your head. The cookies are to be gatekept not because it's too good but because it should not be consumed at all. Jesus. You just ate Jungkook's tangsuyuk and it tasted exactly like the ones you've eaten from restaurants; it'd be such an embarrassing contrast to your own work.

"Don't be stingy," Jungkook playfully says, already making a move to reach for the cookies in your hands.

You hide the tupperware behind your back and stop him with your other free hand.

"Don't come closer. These cookies are not for consumption. Go away."

But he just arches a brow, walking a few steps forward.

"Jungkook!" You whine. "They don't taste good, and I'm embarrassed by them."

"Just one bite," Jungkook chuckles at you, not understanding your mortification. "Come on, __."

But you're stubborn and you won't let him have any of it even if he tries hard.

Jungkook is just as determined though, as he threatens to get closer and closer to you.

You squeaked out his name when he takes a hold of the tupperware but thankfully, you're quick on your reflex and able to take it back.

The whole thing prompts you to burst into laughter as you run around the island of his kitchen, giggling at the silliness of it all.

Your efforts to get away from him eventually go to waste as he managed to get ahold of your waist with his one arm, the other not missing the beat to steal the cookies from you.

He's firm over his hold, lifting you up while laughing against your head as you try to wriggle away.

"Let me have one bite, __," He says, and with his one arm, sits you on the countertop, not letting you go just yet even when you're fully sat.

You try to snatch the plastic from him but he's much quicker this time. When he opens it, you have no choice but to cover your face in embarrassment.

"I told you it's bad." You say, pouting at him, noting the expression on his face as he chews on the cookies that tells you it definitely does not taste good.

"You're a first timer." Jungkook just says, putting down the tupperware.

"Don't try to make me feel better." You frown even more.

"I'm not! I'm just pointing out that this is the first time you tried so of course it's not gonna be perfect right away?" He offers, some sort of comfort, maybe?

But your shoulders deflate because he's right.

Still.

Jungkook must have noticed your mood and tries to cheer you up one more time.

"Come on, you still made a really good tangsuyuk."

That makes you chuckle, unconsciously kicking his knee slightly making him let out an ingenuine, "Ow!"

You don't notice one of the straps of your spaghetti top falling off until Jungkook fixes it for you in the middle of your shared laughter.

"Thanks." You smile at him, mindlessly touching the strap, keeping it in place.

Jungkook hums as he helps you jump out of the kitchen counter.

The night ended with him walking you to your unit again, a rather silly thing he keeps on insisting to do. It's hard to put a name on it, but there's a certain feeling in your chest when you went out of Jungkook's apartment.

A feeling that lingers its way through when you receive a text from him after you come out of the shower that night.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:05pm]: good night chef

You fight off the smile that forces its way into your lips as you type out a reply.

You [11:06pm]: good night :)))))

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:06pm]: i thought u already slept

You [11:07pm]: at 11oclock??? what do u think am i a grandma

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: fair Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: but i had fun earlier. we should do it again sometime

You lie on your back, can't help yourself from letting a small giggle.

You [11:09pm]: jungkook-a You [11:09pm]: just tell me u wanna be with me??

You meant that as a joke, obviously. Just like how he joked about you one time over lunch about wanting to see him every day when you brought up the topic of not seeing him come out of his apartment. You did not mean anything by it other than friendly banter.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:10pm]: 🤔 Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:08pm]: that can be arranged. you can be my personal sous chef and I'll build us a restaurant

You [11:11pm]: sweet

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:11pm]: you havent seen all, baby

Your lips part.

Okay...

Your relationship is absolutely platonic at best. But you can't help but think that he gets a little flirty at times... like the few moments in his kitchen earlier. Is it bad that you're thinking way too much about that specific memory of him licking your finger without thought? Of his strong arm effortlessly carrying you against his rigid body and putting you on the countertop, almost manhandling you? Is it bad you can't get the memory of him fixing your top out of your head?

His use of nickname ticks a little light at the back of your head, and you decide to poke the nest a little.

You [11:12pm]: really? what r u wearing right now

Just a little jokey-joke between friends and nothing more.

You don't even expect a reply to that, but your phone dings a second after, and when you open your message thread again, your jaw parts wider this time.

It's a picture of Jungkook lying his bed, his face cut off from the frame. But you know it's him from the arm that peeks out, his tattoos a familiar sight by now. The photo is taken at a low angle, just enough for you to see the sleeveless shirt he's sporting and the strings of his grey shorts.

You [11:14pm]: i meant that as a joke

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:14pm]: 🥴

You do not know what he meant by that. You look for a picture to reply with, and the HAHA reaction is expected the moment you pressed send.

You [11:15pm]: stripper patrick says good night

Laughing silently at the meme you sent him which was Patrick from Spongebob wearing a pair of black fishnet tights and boots, you wait as three dots appear on Jungkook's line.

Jungkook (Unit 446) [11:15pm]: you're a minx

You chuckle, reacting to his message with an emoji and turn off your phone, almost throwing it on your nightstand and scrambling to bury your face in your pillow to let out a sound of a weird sob, but you're smiling your face off and your cheeks feel way too hot.

The truth of the matter is that you ended the conversation because you're afraid of where it's going.

Turning around, you lay on your back and stare at your ceiling, calming the beat of your heart and forcing your eyes to shut close.

But the picture Jungkook sent you keeps on popping up in your head, almost like those ads from shady websites on the internet, and when you think about it, it triggers a slur of memories that play like a picture in your head: his lips wrapped around your finger... his strong arm... his subtle touch on the small of your back...

"Ugh," you groan, slapping your hands over your face.

You furrow your brows to appear serious, thinking that it'll make you think of something serious as well, wrapping a blanket over your body and sighing when the technique doesn't work.

Okay, think of dogs... and puppies...but that's apparently a wrong move because now you're thinking of Jungkook with his dog.

You're obviously awful at this.

You turn on your bed once again, muffling a sound in your pillow.

But then as minutes passed, your restlessness continues to prevail and you're about to cry with the unknown frustration that sits at the back of your head.

Laying in silence for a while, your hand finds itself roaming over your body, your thumb catching your nipple through your thin top. You pinch the nub, experimental, until it turns into a pebbled rock in your touch.

You bite your bottom lip as your other hand trails down over your panties, running it around the waistband, down until you reach down, down, down to your core.

Your lips part when you feel its heat, two of your fingers starting to stroke where your nether lips were. You sigh at the sensation, squeezing at your boob and turning your head to the side, thinking about how good it feels.

Slowly, you reach down under your parties to part your lips, moaning at the wetness that welcomes you below.

You start to stroke gently with your middle finger, drawing figure eights over your core and making sure to put friction on your clit. The ministration produces more wetness in your cunt, and you spread it over for easier access inside as you start to poke into your hole.

"Oh my god," you mewled, breathing heavily against your pillow, pumping a finger into you. It's a little tight, and you remember you haven't touched yourself like this for over a few weeks now.

But god, how could you forget the feeling of it? The feeling of something going in and out of your cunt, gliding so smoothly because of the abundance of wetness all over.

"Fuck." you sigh out, lips parted, eyes closed to feel more of the sensation.

Your other hand reaches under your top to fondle with your boob, helping you stimulate yourself into that familiar feeling of great ecstasy that comes with your pussy getting touched.

It's starting to feel hot, and you can feel the beads of sweat starting to form on the side of your head even though the AC and your fan are both on. There's a zap that starts from your spine that comes with a sort of electricity coming from within, transferring that tick into your belly which prompts you to pump into your hole faster.

The sheets are a mess at this point, with your feet kicking into them as your movement picks up pace.

"Oh god," you cry out silently, muffling your sob in the comfort of your fluffy pillow.

You chase the feeling of completion, closing your eyes once more, trying to figure out how to get there.

And there's one familiar man that pops inside your head.

Jeon Jungkook.

"Oh shit," you hiss, pinching your nipple and going in and out faster.

Jungkook with his lips around your finger. Jungkook pressing his body against your back. Jungkook carrying you against his body. Jungkook's electric touch as he fixes the strap that's fallen over your naked shoulder.

You let out a pathetic moan, trying to shake away the thoughts of him.

You aren't supposed to. It feels wrong. So wrong.

Suddenly, you feel frustrated over still not reaching your climax up to this point.

You let out a heavy breath, pulling out your fingers from your pussy and from under your panties.

You don't get off. You never do – with your fingers, anyway, that is. And that's why you have a trusted toy buried deep at the back of the drawer of your nightstand, kept away for occasional uses. You'd say you need it right now, but you're too flushed and tired to take it out.

And there's also a melancholic feeling in your heart upon realizing that you just thought of Jungkook while touching yourself.

"Shit, shit, shit." You hiss, the cusses mostly dedicated to yourself.

You shake your head as you sit on the edge of your bed, your hair a bird's nest and clothes strewn over your body as per your reflection on the full-body mirror across your bed.

Sighing, you let your head down and massage your temples.

"God, what's wrong with me,"

You feel guilty... because you aren't supposed to think of a friend when you're trying to get off. You told yourself you'd stop finding Jungkook hot or cute or what-the-fuck-ever so that stupid crush can go away finally. But it feels like all your efforts – or lack, thereof – always seem to fall short.

This isn't good. You need to think straight.

A sudden loud ping catches your attention, almost startling you because it's in the middle of the night, after all. When you snap your head to the side, you see your phone with the light out.

You instantly feel a little nervous. What if it's Jungkook? There's an irrational fear in your head that he knows what you just did, but you shake the thought away, scolding yourself for getting way over your head.

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you feel scared to open your phone but then, did you really have a choice?

Slowly trudging to the direction of your phone, you pick it up from the table and turn it on.

August 18: Your cycle forecast Ovulation in 2 days. Your sex drive may just be hitting its peak🌡️ Tap for tips to make most out of it👉

"Oh fuck me." You curse, throwing your phone on the bed, feeling pissed all of the sudden.

Fucking period tracker app... and ovulation.

PART THREE | ...

#fic: nb #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook #bts smut #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jeon jungkook x reader

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callsigns-haze · 3 months ago

Note

I love your Tyler fics so much, I just love imagining dad/husband Tyler 😭😭 can I please request something where he always introduces her to people as “my wife”? Like they’re newlyweds and he just loves slipping in “wife” whenever he can 🥹

The Weight of a Word

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader

Chapter of all fluff

A/N: So I reached 500 followers today and got a few fics done...

The sky above them was a shifting tapestry of dark clouds, a fitting backdrop for the storm-chasing team that had just reunited. The air was thick with tension, the thrill of the chase palpable in every glance and gesture. But amidst the chaos, there was a lightness to Tyler Owens, a quiet joy that radiated from him like sunshine breaking through the storm clouds.

Tyler stood by the team’s van, his arm casually draped over Y/N’s shoulders, pulling her close. They had been together for years now, but something had changed in the past few months—something that Tyler couldn’t quite keep to himself, no matter how hard he tried. He was still basking in the glow of their recent wedding, the memory of saying “I do” still fresh and vivid in his mind. It was a feeling he cherished, a pride that he carried with him everywhere they went.

“Tyler!” one of the team members called, approaching with a wide grin. “You ready for this? We’ve got a big one heading our way.”

Tyler nodded, his eyes flicking from the sky to his teammate, but he couldn’t help himself. He had to share his happiness, had to let the world know how lucky he was. “Yeah, we’re ready,” he replied, a grin spreading across his face as he gave Y/N’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “By the way, have you met my wife?”

There it was again—that word. It rolled off his tongue so easily now, but every time he said it, he felt a surge of pride and love. Wife. The title still felt new, like a shiny badge he got to wear every day, and he couldn’t help but show it off. He turned to Y/N, his eyes sparkling with affection, and she smiled back at him, clearly amused by how much he enjoyed saying it.

The teammate chuckled, extending a hand to Y/N. “Nice to meet you! I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“All good things, I hope,” Y/N replied with a grin, shaking his hand.

Tyler watched the exchange, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. He loved seeing her here, a part of his world, blending into the life he led so effortlessly. And more than that, he loved the way she looked at him when he called her his wife, like she was just as thrilled by the title as he was.

As they continued to prepare for the storm, Tyler couldn’t resist sneaking in the word whenever he got the chance. Introducing her to anyone new, he would say it with that same proud grin—“This is my wife.” Even in casual conversation with the team, it slipped in naturally: “My wife thinks this storm is going to be a big one,” or “We’ve been talking about this since before we got married.”

It wasn’t just the word itself that mattered, though it did make him feel like he was part of something bigger, something more meaningful. It was the way Y/N’s eyes lit up every time he said it, the way she would squeeze his hand or lean into him just a little bit closer. It was the way she made him feel like he was doing something right, just by loving her, just by being proud to call her his.

As the storm began to close in, the team started moving with more urgency, checking their equipment and finalizing their plans. But even in the midst of the chaos, Tyler couldn’t stop himself from glancing over at Y/N every now and then, his heart swelling with affection. They had always been a team, but this was different. This was forever.

“Tyler,” Y/N said softly, drawing his attention as they stood together, watching the sky. “You know you don’t have to keep introducing me like that, right?”

He looked at her, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “I know, but I can’t help it. I just… I love saying it. I love the way it feels.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head slightly, but the warmth in her eyes told him she understood. “Well, I love hearing it. So I guess we’re both happy.”

Tyler leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead, and then pulled back to look at her. “I promise, I’ll never get tired of calling you my wife.”

“And I’ll never get tired of being your wife,” she replied, her voice soft and sincere.

As the wind picked up and the first raindrops began to fall, Tyler knew they had to focus on the task at hand. But even as they ran to their positions, as the storm loomed ever closer, he couldn’t shake the joy that filled him every time he said that word.

Wife.

It was more than just a title; it was a promise, a declaration of his love, a reminder of the life they had chosen to build together. And no matter how many storms they faced, no matter how wild the weather got, Tyler knew that this was the one thing that would always anchor him, the one thing that mattered most.

As they stood side by side, ready to face whatever the storm would bring, Tyler took Y/N’s hand in his, squeezing it gently. And with a smile that reached his eyes, he whispered one last time, just for the two of them:

“My wife.”

Requests for Tyler are open be free to send in as much as you wish!

tagging some:

@senawashere

@saviorcomplexrry

@cevansbaby-dove

@saynotononsense

@missdottie

@willowisp7

@taorislover94

@eloquenceinpurple

@86laura11

@rosiahills22

@jessicab1991

@kmc1989

@shanimallina87

@eternalsams

@teen-antisocial

#tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #tyler owens fanfic #tyler owens #twisters fanfiction #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens x y/n #tyler owens smut #dad!tyler owens

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surielstea · 2 months ago

Text

A Sudden Elopement

Based on this request.

Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: After Reader and Azriel suddenly get married without telling any of the others, the silently watch while every one figures it out for themselves.

Warnings: just fluff.

A. Note: just a short fic because I feel bad for being inactive as of late :c but the good news is, is that I’ll be very active for Eris week!! So keep an eye out for more Vanserra content 😻🙏

1.7k words

My eyes drooped with exhaustion as I attempted to keep my focus on the book I was reading. I was seated between my mate's legs in his lap, leaning back against his chest while he combed his scarred fingers through my hair. I sighed and closed my book, deciding I didn't have enough energy to read another chapter. I tossed it to the side of the bed and shifted lazily, flipping around to meet his hazel eyes gazing down at me.

"How was your book?" He hummed and I mumbled something he couldn't decipher while pulling myself up and stuffing my nose into the crook of his neck.

"That good, huh?" He teased, his arms moving to wrap around my waist.

I nod, tightening my grasp on him, needing him closer, lazily clinging to him like moss to a damp wall, infectious and dependent. But he didn't seem to care, only returned my embrace with the same tenderness "We should get married," He said softly and my eyes widened, now fully awake.

"What?"

"We should get married," He repeated with a casual tone.

"As in, right now?" I tilt my head, raising a brow at him.

"Well," He gave me an incredulous look. "Not right now, eventually, I want to marry you," He reiterated. A soft smile pulls at my lips.

"We've only been dating for a few months," I argue and even in the dim lighting I can see him blush.

"Yes, and we've been best friends for a decade," He argues and my smile widens, I straddle over his hips, sitting up and debating it.

"Don't get me wrong, I'd marry you now if I could, but do you really want to go through the hassle of planning one?" I speak logically but it's as if he only heard the first half of my sentence.

"Let's get married, right now," He grinned wildly and I flushed pink. "We don't have to do the hassle, you hate parties anyway. It can be just us, somewhere far or close I don't care. I just want to marry you," He expressed, intertwining our hands as I debated the irrational and sudden decision.

"Though I love how eager you are, I don't have a dress— much less, we don't have rings," I explain. "And as rich as you are, your funds are not bottomless," I say but he remains looking at me with the same loving look.

"Tell me exactly how you want to do it, and that's how it'll be done," He prompts and lets go of my hands, favoring placing them on my waist as I leaned down on my elbow, propped up against his chest.

"Well, it being just us doesn't sound too bad," I say, tracing shapes on his bicep with my free hand. "And I'd want to have a pretty gown, and I'd want to have our ceremony somewhere beautiful." I flick my eyes up to meet his unfaltering gaze. "And rings, I want everyone to know we belong to each other," I add quickly and his smile grows.

"Anything else?" He tilts his head but I shake mine, cupping his face and leaning down, kissing his lips softly. "I think, I just want to be your wife," I finalized and that seemed to have pleased him because the next thing I know he's flipping me over and kissing down my neck. And despite my exhaustion, I knew sleep wouldn't come until dawn.

—————

"So, how was your trip?" Feyre said excitedly, settling into the barstool beside me.

Azriel and I had gotten back after a month's vacation only a day ago, but everyone was eager to catch up. So we landed ourselves at Rita's, a local bar beloved by the citizens of Velaris. "As romantic as it sounds," I say with a soft blush, propping my head into my hands.

"Gods, I wish Rhys would take me on a surprise trip like that," She sighed dramatically and my smile grew. We hadn't told anyone why we actually went, that our trip was more of a honeymoon, less of a vacation.

"I know," I turned back in my stool to look at my husband who was surrounded by his two brothers. "It's all still such a daze," I smile dreamily, looking back to my friend who was frozen in her seat, staring directly at the cut sapphire on my fourth finger.

"Are you engaged?!" She practically shouted and I giggled, shaking my head.

"Az and I decided to get married while we were gone," I shrug as if it was a casual thing. I didn't want it to be a big deal, because it wasn't really, we were the last of the group to tie the knot.

She just stares at me, slowly, she shifts her head back to the three males at the other end of the room, right at that chain around Azriel's neck, a silver ring hanging from it. He couldn’t wear rings because of his scars, but he still wanted to have that physical element of our marriage, as if to display how taken he was.

She nearly fell out of her chair at the realization, then tackled me into a hug, holding me tight as I giggled at her antics. "My gods, congratulations, I would have been sending gifts all week!" Feyre claimed and I shook my head at her nonsense while she pulled away.

"It's not a big deal Fey, if they haven't figured it out yet— you're the only one who knows," I smile broadly, looking back at Azriel, who happened to already be staring at me.

I brought my hand up, gesturing to the ring on my finger, then to his brothers. Silently asking if they notched yet. Azriel shook his head with a mischievous smile and I turned back to Feyre with a smirk. "I can't believe you guys didn't tell us," She huffed as if she'd failed me as a friend.

"As much as I would've loved for you to be there, it was hilarious watching how clueless you all were," I claim and she gives me a sidelong glare.

"Oh cmon," I lean over in my stool and bump her shoulder with mine. "Now you can be in on it. Who do you think is going to be last to figure it out?" I ask, gesturing to the group behind us who were all mingling with Azriel.

Feyre turned to look, the three-winged Illyrians all chatting with Morrigan, Nesta, Lucien, and Elain all accompanying them. "Cassian," She bets and I smirk, narrowing my eyes on the group.

"I think Rhys," I say, crossing my arms over my chest. Feyre cracks a smile. "Whoever's right pays the tab," She says, slipping out of her barstool and I nod, agreeing to the challenge even though I knew damn well Rhys would be covering the tab regardless.

We saunter over to the group, wicked smiles on our faces. Feyre goes to Rhys, intertwining their hands while I come to stand between Cassian and Azriel, my husband putting his arm around my shoulders. "What's that look for?" Azriel asked me, noticing the mischievous glint in my eyes.

"Feyre and I have a bet going, and that's all you need to know," I shrug and he arches a dark brow but doesn't say anything more while silky shadows swirl up my calves as if they were trying to beckon more information out of me but I didn't budge, just leaned into his side and watched Feyre as she tried her hardest to get her mate to realize the wings on me and Azriel's fingers, eager to win our bet.

It took much longer than I thought it would for them to realize. Lucien and Elain had spotted it that night, pulling me to the side to ask about it. Morrigan and Nesta had done the same one night later, interrogating me and Azriel as if we'd committed a crime, they seemed to think not telling them was against some friendship code.

But Rhys and Cassian hadn't noticed that night, or the next, or the next. It wasn't until I was training with Cassian and punched him square in the jaw that he caught sight of the ring on my finger. He brought his fingers to his cheek, wincing as he saw blood when pulling his hand away.

I cringed. "Sorry, I forgot to take my ring off," I murmured shamefully, taking the sapphire off my fourth finger. He paused, staring at me curiously, with no malice in his eyes despite the fact that I just drew blood.

"Where did you get that?" He tilted his head. I froze. Would it be considered cheating me and Feyre’s bet if I told him Az gave it to me?

"I'll give you one guess," I sent him a wink and his brows shot up.

"No way," He whispered. "He proposed?" His arms went out wide and shock. I fought back a laugh. "Well, yes, but we got married already, when we took that month off to go to the Summer Court? That was our honeymoon," I shrug and his eyes nearly bulge from their sockets.

"He didn't tell me!?" Cassian exclaimed as if he was the one to be married.

"We didn't tell anyone, everyone else already figured it out." I chuckled and his eye twitched. "Rhys doesn't know, me and Fey had a bet going to see how long it'd take," I shrug. "Turns out longer than expected." I hummed and he scowled.

"Well, you think you know someone," He huffs pathetically and I laugh.

"It's not like that Cass," I roll my eyes while walking over to my water and placing my wedding ring down beside it. If he was actually upset I don't know what I'd do, and I found myself thanking the gods when he cracked a smile, unable to keep the facade up for too long.

"Me and Az are going to have a long talk about this," He warned and I chuckled, getting back into my fighting stance on the mats.

"All I ask is that you return my husband in one piece," I say, smiling at the sound of calling Azriel my husband.

"Fine, but only if I get to be the one to tell Rhys he lost the bet." He hummed, getting into his own stance.

I grinned wildly, Feyre was going to rage. "Deal."

@coolepowersthings@hailqueenconquer @quiettuba @ilovewarner45 @judig92 @tothestarsandwhateverend @je-suis-prest-rachel @call-me-a-fool @brieflyclassymortal @cherryjain17 @stqrgirlies-blog @chelsiemp @nyxbranwenn @dnfhascorruptedme @summerandsalt @annamariereads16 @thisiskaylin @itsbonniebabe @mp-littlebit @nickishadow139 @thestartitaness @azswife @mommyofkittens @sourholland @unlikely-lovers-together @knowiathemythologynerd @hdigditditdjgd @pruvii @thesillyyogourt @its-me-meg @cherry-cin @katherinearcheron @thesunloveschips @durgenyx @wandaspropertyonly @azriel-shadowsingerr @oketra21 @styleshoneyco @woblyshrimp @sayitlikethecheese @georgiadixon @whistle1whistle @riorgail @smutslut05 @doodlebugg16-blog @maddyb-rapps @lurking--shadows @hollyismentallyillhelp @feerique @blackgirlmagicforever

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kooktrash · 1 year ago

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LIMERENCE | jeon jungkook

summary: a recent discovery of old VCR tapes takes you down a rabbit hole of self-pity, remembering what you once had and how it all went down the drain over youthful mistakes. suddenly, you find yourself playing back the old tapes of the best relationship you’ve ever had and all you can think about is how to get it back—if you could get it back

warnings: angst. smut. [jk and oc in videos: 18-20 | jk and oc now: 26] retired emos. exes to lovers. unprotected intercourse [listen it had been six years they weren’t waiting 😭] jk has a bellybutton piercing and he smokes. jk owns a camera shop. supportive besties Jimin and Tae and Yoongi. Y2K styled camcorders. a small argument on one of the tapes

LIMERENCE MASTERLIST

➢ genre/au: exes to lovers, smut, Y2K videotape style [ ex boyfriend!jk x ex girlfriend!y/n [she/her. female anatomy ]

➢ 18.4k words

song inspo: risk — deftones, 505 — arctic monkeys, afraid — xavier omar, who [feat. BTS] — lauv

The end of a chapter in your life always came when you least expected it. You’ll wake up one day and it’ll hit you that you don’t talk to the same people. You don’t do the same things or act the same way and when you look back at before, it will feel so far from the person you are now.

Standing before your half empty apartment began to bring this growing feeling of sadness inside you. It made you feel stupid but you just couldn’t help it, this was the end of a huge time in your life where you felt like you really began to develop into who you are. After seven years living here, you’re finally moving on and everything that happened here would be left behind. All the laughter, the crying, the break ups that left you balling your eyes out on the kitchen floor. You would soon move into a clean slate and for some reason that was hitting you hard.

It probably didn’t help that your dear friend managed to find a box of things— you haven’t thought about in quite literally years—hidden away in an old storage space on the ceiling. The sides of the cardboard box were in ruins with wet patches and bent corners. There was no writing on the sides but on the top a big line of red duct tape with the words ‘JJK’ and a few small scissors stab marks next to it. Jimin looked up at you with a raised brow, “Are you keeping this one?”

Your expression seemed to flatten as you looked down at it, unsure what to say and he sighed, “Come on Y/n, it’s late, I want to get as much of this out as we can. Are you keeping this one?”

“Um,” You looked back down at it, nodding your head, “Yes.”

Since the day you found that box and told Jimin you were keeping it, all it’s done is collect dust in the corner of your new living room, out of place and constantly on your mind. Your friends were a big help in the move, especially Jimin who had hauled that huge cardboard box up three flights of stairs to your new place without question to what was in it. It wasn’t until he got tired of seeing it sit in the corner for an entire week after everything had been unpacked that he really began to get curious about it.

“So what’s in that thing?” Jimin asked that Friday night you lounged around your apartment, proud to have finally gotten everything out. Tonight was the first night your mutual friend would be over and it was like a housewarming party with the only two people who can stand being around you.

“What’s in what?” You asked, catching a glance at your friend, Somin, who’s knowing eyes bore into yours—already knowing what he was talking about. The thing is, Somin was very aware of what was in that box and she’s been biting her tongue all night from asking why you still had it.

“The box, it’s just been sitting there,” Jimin said pointing to it, “It’s kinda ruining this whole vibe you’ve got going on here with all the black decor and house plants.”

“Just some old stuff,” you shrugged it off, looking back down at the playing cards in your hands, “I haven’t found a place to put it.”

Somin raised a brow at you but you ignored her this time to continue your game of cards and drink your wine. Jimin looked at her, “Do you know what’s in it?”

You sighed, “Jimin, I told you it’s just some old stuff.”

“Yes, Y/n, but old stuff can be a lot of things and that box was heavy so I’m curious,” Jimin said exaggeratedly, “Can’t a man be curious these days?”

“It’s no—“

“It’s a bunch of old home videos,” Somin said as she poured herself more wine casually like she hadn’t just exposed what was inside your secret box. Jimin’s jaw dropped, “Wait, Y/n, you used to do porn?”

“What!?” You nearly choked, “No—well, like on—no! Those aren’t that type of home video, they’re just… y'know old tapes.”

“Like from when you were a kid?” Jimin asked with a scoff, “Let’s watch them.”

“I’m not a kid,” You said shaking your head no, “And no, let’s not watch them.”

“I agree with Jimin,” Somin cut in after watching you begin to panic a bit, “You kept them for a reason, let’s see why. Jimin’s never seen them.”

You laughed nervously, “Come on, it’s just silly stuff, I just kept them for the memory, that’s all.”

“We don’t doubt it,” Jimin said with a smirk, “But come on, let me see one—just one.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Fine!”

The three of you huddled around it with a pair of keys using the jagged end to cut into the old tape and the box nearly fell apart just like that. When Jimin pulled the tabs open, the three of you seemed to lean in closer and closer with anticipation for the reveal until finally, a silence fell over you.

Jimin didn’t hesitate from reaching into it, scabbing row after row of old VCR tapes with white labels on the sides with similar titles in a numerical order.

‘JJK 1’

‘JJK 2’

‘JJK 3’

‘JJK 4’

There were 24 tapes in the box and he counted every single one meaning these spanned two years with one tape filmed per month. The same initials that had been on top of the box had been written on the tapes and he couldn’t help himself from picking up the first one. “Let’s watch it.”

“No! No,” you said, taking it out of his hands, “You wanted to see what was inside and you saw, be happy with what you get, I don’t have anything to play these on anyway.”

“I do!” Somin piped in, “I’ve got my old tape player back home, say the words and I’ll go get it.”

“Not neces—“

“Do it.”

What you wanted at the moment seemed to be outnumbered by your friend’s curiosity and your other friend’s need to satiate it. You were left alone with Jimin for twenty minutes as Somin left to get it and he rummaged through them trying to ask you what they were, only for you to evade each question out of stubbornness. Now she’s back and you’re watching them set everything up on your flatscreen while you sat back on your couch chugging back your glass of wine nervously.

Jimin smiled mischievously as he held up a tape, building anticipation before placing it into the player and letting it start.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 1 : THE SHOP ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

There was a pungent chemical smell surrounding the register you currently sat on that had the customers in line scrunching their noses in disgust but that didn’t seem to stop either one of you from what you were doing. He worked with one hand as best as he could while you worked on the other applying a cold layer of polish onto his fingers.

A small black nail polish was set down on the counter next to a silver cam recorder that had been angled at the two of you this whole time, capturing on video the way you painted your coworker’s nails. Jungkook bid them farewell before turning his attention back on you, “Hurry up, we’re starting to get busy again.”

“Shh,” you pointed a manicured finger up, “You can’t rush perfection.”

“I’m not rushing perfection, I’m rushing you,” Jungkook said as you brought his hand closer to your lips trying to dry his nails with your warm breath. The video seemed to have a perfect view of the way his eyes glossed over with affection when he looked at you and you weren’t paying attention.

“Oh my god, every girl is going to want to sleep with you,” you eyed his nails proudly, “You look hot.”

“I’ve always been hot,” Jungkook said looking down at his black nails that complimented his black leather and beaded bracelets that lined his wrists, “Okay but how cool do these make me look? Like, would you sleep with me?”

He tilted his head toward you in curiosity and for a moment you just looked at him in thought before finally shrugging, “Yeah, I’d do it.”

“Do what?” Jungkook asked, shaking his black hair out of his face. With the way the camera was aimed, the two of you looked zoomed in but it still managed to capture the way your eyes stayed on each other wordlessly, the tension felt through the screen.

‘Can someone help get a shirt down?’

He watched you hop off the graffiti-covered counter and grabbed the long hook that helped get things down and left with her—not before responding with a simple, “You.”

Once your answer registered in his head, he wasted a single second to look at his camera, wondering if it had caught this small flirty moment the two of you had while you painted his nails and the thought alone made him smirk, biting against his lip ring too. He didn’t think he would get his nails painted at work today but when he saw you doing your own, you convinced him and he spent the last ten minutes messing around with you, flirting here and there.

The shift had been boring for the most part and all the songs that played he'd already heard a million times over. This is his fifth time singing along to Falling Away From Me by Korn. Do you think he wants Korn stuck in his head all day?

His beanie clad head bobbed to the rifts in the song, quietly lip synching as he went back to doodling on an old receipt paper. Some of the ink from the pen he used was smudging and the black hearts he drew were getting ruined but he didn’t care. He’ll either throw it away or stick it on your back if he wants to.

“Beating me down! Beating me, beating me down, down, into the ground,” a voice sang loudly in his ear making him jump in fear.

“Don’t moan in my fucking ear, bro,” Jungkook said holding a hand to his ear, the softness of his beanie tickling his fingers. Taehyung threw himself against the counter with his back pressed against it looking at his friend, “You know you liked it.”

“Fuck off,” Jungkook said as he blew air on his nails again, drawing Taehyung’s attention to them. He stuck a hand out as if waiting and Jungkook put his hand over it to show him his nails.

Taehyung seemed impressed as he asked, “Who did them?”

“Y/n.”

“Y/n!” Taehyung shouted abruptly and Jungkook flinched away with annoyance, ready to tell him you were helping a customer when you popped around the corner with a t-shirt and hanger in your hands and the customer behind you.

“What?” Your brows arched in confusion as you looked at your coworker who has spent the last twenty minutes in the stockroom between Nirvana posters and new Metallica tees hiding so he could play his Nintendo GameBoy. Jungkook was careful not to fuck up his black nails and took the shirt from you so he could check the customer out.

Taehyung pointed to Jungkook’s nails,“Can you do mine next?”

A scoff left your lips, joining him next to the counter standing close to ask, “Are you going to pay me?”

His jaw dropped as he turned back to Jungkook, “What the fuck? Did he?”

“Thank you, have a good night,” Jungkook mumbled to the customer as she left with a new t-shirt before turning to the other two, “I’m buying Y/n lunch tomorrow.”

“I’ll buy you lunch the day after.”

“You can’t. That’s not original.” You said to him with a teasing smirk. The two of you were standing close to each other as you talked, Taehyung’s voice dropped when he spoke to you, “You know what, just because the two of you got a little crush on each other doesn’t mean you’ve gotta favor him.”

Jungkook looked down at the drawing he made, trying his best to act like he hadn’t heard what Taehyung said, but it didn’t stop the growing blush to his cheeks. It’s true, maybe he does have a thing for you but it’s still too early to tell, y’know? He’s not sure how to explain it but you seem to get him. The two of you like the same kind of music and know the same sort of things. You listen to him talk and when he’s quiet, you don’t question it. You make him feel comfortable and when you flirt with him he wonders if you feel the same.

Honestly, that’s all he’s wanted these days, his attraction toward you to be reciprocated anyway it could be. He thinks about you constantly, probably more than what’s healthy but he can’t help it.

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes playfully, feeling the shuffling movement of Jungkook pulling himself up on the counter, “Just say you’re jealous and feel left out.”

“Bitch?!” Taehyung scoffed, “I wouldn’t feel this way if you treated us fairly, instead you give him special treatment.”

“You realize you’re arguing with me over getting your nails painted?” You asked with a roll of your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest, clearly annoyed and once Jungkook saw that he was fully pulling you his way. He threw an arm around your neck, hugging you from behind as he sat on the counter and rested his head on yours, “Ignore him, he’s in a mood because he just got dumped.”

“Fuck you, I broke up with her!” Taehyung nearly yelled, staring at the two of you with disgust as Jungkook fixed the beanie on your head that had slipped a little too low over your eyes.

Just as you were getting ready to respond to him, the door of the stockroom opened and your boss was coming out with a blank expression, “Can you guys do your jobs instead of fuck around?”

“Yoongi, I’m being bullied,” Taehyung argued, “Fire them already.”

“I’ll fire you too,” Yoongi teased before looking at Jungkook, “Get off my counter.”

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

The video came to an end as your old boss stood in front of the camera, blocking out the footage that ended with Jungkook whispering something into your ear.

“Who’s that guy? An ex boyfriend?” Jimin asked as the video came to an end. Somin released a soft laugh as she looked at your blank expression, unsure what to say. Before you could speak up, she was doing it for you, “That's the ex boyfriend. Jeon Jungkook.”

“Don’t immortalize him,” you said with a slight roll of your eyes as you watched Jimin rummage through the box in search of another video to play. Your bottom lip was pulled between your teeth as a strange ounce of nerves began to set in, watching him unlock a deep rooted memory you had told yourself you had forgotten. Somin sent you a knowing look as she matched the roll of your eyes with her own, “How else should I refer to him as? The guy who filmed a video each month that you two were together?”

“Damn,” Jimin laughed, slumping back in a chair as he looked at you, “So how come I’ve never heard of this videographer.”

“Because Y/n’s asham—“

“Alright! No more wine for you,” you leapt forward to snatch the glass out of your friend’s hands watching her giggle drunkenly, “You’re just saying things now.”

“Come on Y/n, I’m curious,” Jimin said tugging on your sleeve, “If you won’t let her tell me… you gotta do it. Don’t act like you don’t still think about it, why else would you have all these tapes still?”

“Because it’s not everyday someone makes 26 movies for you—and not all of them are as happy as this one,” you confessed as you looked down at ‘JJK 1’ it had been a video log of when the two of you really began to show some attraction toward each other just before he asked you out. Looking back at the video all you could think was how back then you were both young, you could see it on your faces and the sparkles in your eyes. Not all of the videos in that box would be like this one.

“Alright,” Jimin sighed, “Well then just tell me who Jeon Jungkook is.”

Sounds of a rock song’s electric guitar blurred out the noises from inside the dark shop. The store was covered in black and dark blue with its black walls and blue hues of light that shined down over dozens of cameras and melancholic portraits. It had an obviously cold aura and for some reason that had a tendency to always bring him comfort.

He felt warmth in the coolness of his small shop and oftentimes it was difficult to leave it behind, even when the night sky had appeared and the ‘closed’ sign had been flipped. The only thing that kept him from spending yet another night in the store was a set of plans that had been made days prior by someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer. When it came time to leave, he locked up shop and left on his motorcycle.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” his dear friend raised a glass of whiskey to him as he sat alone at the bar, “I was wondering if you were gonna come or not.”

“I didn’t realize I had an option,” he joked bitterly, making his friend send him a glare that was quickly wiped away when something came to mind. “So I met this chick, she’s got this friend wh—“

“No.”

“Jungkook,” his friend said, watching his friend stir the ice in his scotch, “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

Jungkook released a scoff as he looked at him, “You were going to say that this friend wants to meet me and that I should go and get drinks with her or something.”

He sat there quietly, speechless by how spot on his best friend was, “Alright, maybe you did know what I was going to say but just hear me out… she’s hot. Uh, um, she’s your type—honestly, I’m your best friend so trust me.”

“No, Taehyung, you always say the same thing and it's always a huge waste of time,” Jungkook shook his head adamantly, “I don’t get why you’re always trying to set me up with someone whenever you get into a relationship. We’ve been friends for eight years and you’re still this clingy?”

“Okay first of all, fuck you, I’m not clingy,” Taehyung told him with a scoff, “Second, I’m trying to do you a favor considering you can’t keep a relationship to save your life.”

That made Jungkook roll his eyes as he looked anywhere but at his friend. The two sat at the counter of some quiet lounge bar where they had agreed to meet at. He raised his glass to his lips for a drink as he said, “Some people aren’t meant to be in relationship—“

“No, you wanna know what your problem is?” Taehyung cut him off, “It’s that you’re too damn picky. Hate to say it friend, but nobody is ever going to be her.”

His expression hardened as he forced his glare on the silver rings he wore, listening to the way they clinked against the polished bartop. He didn’t give Taehyung a response right away, too busy trying not to roll his eyes again but it was no use, his tongue poked against his cheek and his friend knew he got a reaction. Jungkook tilted his head in thought, “Why do you still bring Y/n up?”

“Because she was your longest relationship,” Taehyung said with a shrug. He was pushing his friend for a response and he felt a little bad but sometimes he just needs to get his friend to talk. Jungkook has always been on the quieter side, even years back. All he did was listen to music and videographed things he liked. He was a bit intimidating—still is—but it was only because he was so quiet. Sure, he knew how to joke around but Taehyung’s known him long enough to feel the difference in his friend lately. He’s become more of a shut-in, busy with the store and not focused on anything else.

“Yeah, six years ago,” Jungkook emphasized with a scoff, “And she broke up with me, remember?”

“I mean… yeah but… don’t you ever think about it?” Taehyung asked suddenly, “I still think about my first love.”

“Y/n was not my first love,” Jungkook’s brows furrowed, remembering the two girlfriends before he ever met you. Taehyung gave him a look, “Not your first girlfriend but definitely your first love. What do you think Y/n’s up to?”

He hadn’t noticed how his leg began to bounce anxiously as he took a sigh, “How would I know? You’re the one who still talks to her.”

“Not true,” Taehyung shook his head no, “We haven’t talked in over three years.”

“Hm,” Jungkook sounded unimpressed as he chugged back the rest of his drink, motioning the bartender over to ask for another round. He wasn’t in the mood to keep talking about this and it caught him off guard.

He couldn’t remember the last time he thought about you but he’s got no doubt in his mind it was because of Taehyung back then too. This is the problem with being best friends with the guy who was with you through all the ups and downs and hasn’t seen you put your all into a relationship since. The only thing Jungkook doesn’t get is why Taehyung is stuck on the idea that he never got over you.

You both were young back then. The end of your adolescence started with the beginning of adulthood and the two of you had just so happened to spend the first two years together like that. You dated when you were 18 and broke up when you were 20, it was so long ago and now it’s just a last memory to him. He hasn’t seen you in six years and the only time he ever wastes time thinking about you is when you’re brought up. He’s managed to push you so far back in his head that he’s only reminded of you when someone else mentions you and every time it happens, it hurts a little more.

Taehyung has this problem with revisiting the past anytime he’s drunk and since he met him at the same time that he met Y/n… it’s no surprise that some of those early memories had you in them. He never failed to remind Jungkook that he had felt like a child with divorced parents having to choose a side when you two broke up. Time and time again Jungkook reminds him that he could’ve gone off and been best friends with you if that’s what he really wanted but then it would end in an argument over the friendship.

Jungkook reached into the pocket of his black jeans for his pack of cigarettes and offered one to Taehyung, “So tell me about this friend.”

“She’s blonde—natural or not, I’m not sure—but she’s attractive and nice. She seems a bit extroverted, kinda bubbly so I don’t know how you’ll feel about that but I’m telling you… you’ll like her,” Taehyung said, happy to drop the current topic to go back to the original point in conversation.

He tried to listen to his friend’s description of this woman he wanted Jungkook to meet but he couldn’t. It was really all Taehyung’s fault for making him think about you and all his past relationships. He’ll admit, he’s been in quite a few and none have lasted more than a few months aside from the one with you. It was normal for yours to be the one that left the biggest impact on him but he wouldn’t say that’s why he stays away from relationships.

There might be a time here and there where Jungkook does indulge in carnal desires and sleeps with someone but they’re never anything more than that.

He’s got too much shit going on to waste time dating someone.

After a long night of hearing his friend go on and on about a woman he thinks is good for him, he returned to his loft apartment tired and alone. Like his shop, his apartment had the same cool tone to it. The walls were black and some brick, blue lights were tucked away in corners angling up toward photographic portraits he’s done in the last few years and his black 1968 Gibson Custom Les Paul Electric guitar hanging proudly in his living room. His Doberman leapt happily at the sight of his owner and he followed after Jungkook as he stepped onto his couch taking the guitar off its hooks to examine it.

To be honest, he rarely plays the guitar nowadays and it’s not because he forgot how to play or because he lost his love for it but it’s not the same anymore. Now it just sits as a reminder of who he was with when he got it and just how he got it. As if this guitar wasn’t a constant reminder of you, his dear friend felt the need to bring you up too.

It wasn’t Taehyung’s fault things happened the way they did and it’s not his fault that it fell apart for him too but… sometimes he wonders if things would have been different if Taehyung didn’t push him to date you all those years back.

For days on end all you could do was think about that stupid box. It didn’t help that you had no room for it so it remained in your living room taunting you, pressing you to play just one more video. It’s strange how you hadn’t thought about this box or Jungkook in a long time and now he’s randomly showing back up in your life without even knowing it. Honestly, it was embarrassing.

You’ve randomly begun to think about a guy you dumped when you were 20 years old and for some reason that’s starting to get to you. It was making you anxious like all of a sudden you’ve realized how much time has passed. If it wasn’t for moving out of your old apartment, you wouldn’t have even thought about this but not that you’re looking back… this was supposed to be that ending.

You were supposed to leave it all behind when you moved and instead you brought it with you to your new beginning.

“Y/n.” The man across from you called your name as you stared off in the distance. He released a small sigh, “Come on kid, you wanted to get lunch, what’s up?”

“I’m not a kid,” you told Yoongi with a glare in your eyes, “And maybe I just wanted to catch up with an old friend of mine.”

Yoongi lifted an unamused brow, “Are you calling me old or our friendship old?”

“A little bit of both,” you said with a teasing smile, taking a sip from your drink as the two of you waited for your food, “But anyway, no, I haven’t seen you in like a month and I kinda missed you.”

“Right…” Yoongi looked away, “So what have you been up to? How’s the new apartment?”

You released a sigh as Yoongi began to ask you things and tried sorting your answers in your head, “I’ve been too busy moving but the apartment is nice, a little less space than I originally thought but nothing I can’t manage.”

“And how’s the magazine?” Yoongi asked, taking a short pause to thank the server who brought your plates out, “Did you get that promotion?”

“Yes!” Your eyes widened and a smile came to your face, “I did, we’re still working on transfers but you’re looking at the new Editorial Assistant.”

“Soon to be new Editor,” Yoongi said proudly, “I can’t believe I’ve seen you grow from some emo kid who used to work for me to an adult on their way to their dream job.”

“I know,” you released a sigh at the thought of how far you’ve come. When you graduated high school you worked at a streetwear shop and you stayed there part time when you started college. It’s gotta be the best place you’ve ever worked at and the environment was always laid back. Yoongi was the one to push you and ask what you wanted to be and when you told him your plan to work at a magazine he was always right there beside you. Now at 26, you’re just a step away from Editor. It’s crazy how much can change in six years and that alone made you ask, “I know this is random but do you still talk to old employees?”

Yoongi’s brows furrowed, “I talk to you.”

“I mean beside me,” you said with a roll of your eyes as you poured yourself more water in your glass. You wanted to say this was all just out of curiosity considering he’s the one who brought up the time you worked for him but in reality… you planned on asking him this when he agreed to lunch.

“Mm, not really. I talked to Taehyung for a while after he quit but it didn’t last long,” Yoongi said as casually as ever and he looked at you with curious eyes. Your lip was pulled between your teeth and you were no longer eating, just using your silverware to play with your food and he knew you well enough to know his answer didn’t satiate your curiosity. He purposely left out any mention of him but maybe that’s what you were looking for? “I haven’t talked to Jungkook since he moved—but last I heard he came back a couple years ago and opened up a store.”

“Store?” You asked, watching your friend’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Yeah, he, y’know he opened a camera store, a couple second hand guitars too,” Yoongi said, “You didn’t know?”

You shook your head no, “When?”

“I don’t know, when he came back? Jin told me he had seen him around but I never talked to him. We didn’t keep in touch when he went back to Busan so I figured it would be weird to want to know what he’s up to now, right?” Yoongi said, unaware of the way you had tuned him out, lost in thought.

Talking about Jungkook to Yoongi felt strange because he knew the two of you in a different way than Somin did. Somin knew Jungkook because of you but you and him worked for Yoongi for two years. It’s like with Taehyung, he met you the same time he met Jungkook but the two grew closer even when you fell out. Your breakup with Jungkook was a bit of a tricky subject and you’ll take the blame for it. Back then you might’ve tried and argued that it was a mutual agreement but now that you’re older you’ll admit you were in the wrong, or maybe the things you said were wrong.

“Y/n,” Yoongi called your name, snapping your out of your state of daydream and caught your attention, “Have you really not spoken to him since the breakup? I don't remember it being that bad.”

You shrugged, “Honestly I can’t remember, a lot happened that I didn’t say and I’m sure he didn’t either so it makes sense.”

“What’s wrong?” He asked, “I can tell something is on your mind, why’d you ask who I kept in touch with? Have you been trying to contact Jungkook?”

“No,” you nearly choked on your drink, “No, I just, um, I was just curious.”

Yoongi didn’t press you for more, he could see it on your face that there was more you weren’t telling him but he didn’t want to force you to come out with it. You ended your little lunch date with plans to meet up again and went back to your respective jobs.

It wasn’t until nighttime that you found yourself thinking back to that stupid fucking box that just grabbed your attention everytime you were home. If Jimin had never wanted to play the first tape then maybe you wouldn’t have been so stuck on them but you just can’t help it anymore. They’re all you’ve been able to think about which has led you to think about Jungkook. You have not questioned him or his whereabouts in so long and this sudden interest in how he’s doing is starting to get to you.

When you got home you tried distracting yourself from them. You still had to figure out where to put them if you even want to keep them and although you think you shouldn’t… you can’t just throw them away either. It’s a memory, a cute little memory if you only watch the first few videos and you’ve moved on so they shouldn’t bother you anymore—they don’t bother you anymore. You spent part of your night finishing up a project from work, drinking a glass of wine and listening to Bloodhail by Have a Nice Life, only looking at the box every now and then.

You always preferred working in your living room because it helped you resist the urge to lay in bed but right now you can’t focus on your project and you can’t take it anymore. You took a tape out of the box and put it into Somin’s tape player, turned on the tv and the volume up just a bit as the video began to play.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 2 : THE SKATEPARK┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

The sky was dark and you doubted anything could be seen on the camera set up beside you but neither of you seemed to care. The camera had been rolling since the store was open and you had been filming with him since but you never expected Jungkook would ask you out. Could you call this a date?

“Y/n,” Jungkook’s voice was calm and collected over the loud rock music that played in the skate park, “I’ll pull, all you have to do is try and balance.”

“I am trying,” you took a deep breath staring down at the skateboard underneath your worn out converse, “Just give me a second, alright?”

Jungkook just smiled, he took a cautious step back when you released his hands and he picked up his camera trying to make sure you were in view. Things have begun to change between you two drastically. Sure, you always did a back and forth flirting at work but lately it feels a bit more than that. You’ve been messaging every night talking about random things, sometimes talking about more meaningful things. Whenever he was near you his touch always seemed to linger and now he’s asked you out tonight—nothing serious… just feeling it out.

“Okay, okay, wait I think I got it,” you waved a hand excitedly as you called him back over. He didn’t hesitate to take your hand in his free one and aimed the camera down at your feet. He began to pull you forward, feeling your fingers lock with his when you nearly lost balance.

Jungkook was walking backwards as he helped you skate across the cement, not watching where he was going until he bumped into a ramp nearly yanking you off the board. The camera fumbled in his hand as he tried to save you instead and wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you steady. You clung to his arm, heart racing from the near fall and yet you couldn’t help but laugh as you fumbled to keep the camera safe. Since you met him you realize he had a strong tie with his camcorder and got used to his need to always be recording, you found it cute so you didn’t want something to happen to it.

He was hesitant to let you go even when you stood up comfortably, tucking your hair behind your pierced ears and biting your lip, “I need a break.”

Jungkook didn’t question it as he followed you to sit down on a grassy hill just outside the cement confines of the skatepark. He reached into his black Jansport backpack and took out a bottled water to hand to you. You smiled, taking it with a thank you and asked, “So do you come here every night you close?”

“Sometimes,” Jungkook shrugged, watching you tip your head back to drink from his water bottle, a small droplet slipping down your chin that had him reaching out a thumb to wipe, “Helps clear my head.”

“That’s nice,” you said softly thanking him, cheeks flush red, handing him back the water and watching him take a drink next, “Is that why you’re always recording too?”

Jungkook looked down at his silver camcorder that sat in the middle on the grass, “I don’t know, I find it relaxing but at the same time… it makes me anxious? I want to capture everything I experience on video because I’m scared that one day I’m not going to remember any of this. Sometimes I wonder if I’m missing out on the moment itself but then I think about right now an—no, nevermind.”

Your brows furrowed as he stared down at the people skating, eyes narrowing as he listened to the next song someone played. It was late and that definitely wasn’t a skating song but it was one of his favorites and he had to say it, “I like this song.”

Bloodhail played somewhere off in the distance and he softly hummed to the beat but you were too focused on what he never finished saying instead, “What were you going to say?”

Jungkook played with his lip ring, the beating red light from his camera recording in his peripheral as he shrugged, “It’s nothing.” There was a small pile of loose grass blades he’s pulled from the ground next to him.

He looked at you to see what you had to say but instead you just stayed silent, slightly drawn back from him and he didn’t want that. It’s not like what he was going to say was bad but… the two of you have only ever flirted. What if he said something that pushed you away? But what if he chose not to ever speak up and you got tired of waiting?

The song really was one of his favorites but he’ll admit he used that as a distraction to change the subject but he couldn’t just not answer now.

“I think about what would happen if I didn’t have my camera when I’m with you,” Jungkook confessed, laying on his bed to look up at the stars, “Would I remember everything you said? What jokes I said that made you laugh? Or even the way you looked at me? I wouldn’t want to forget these things.”

All that was heard for a good long moment was the sound of the music and muffled noises from people still around. He felt his stomach tighten, shaking his head in the grass, “Shit, sorry, that probably sounded weird.”

Your eyes met and for a second he forgot where the two of you were or that his camera was still recording at a bad angle, “What will you do when you’re done filming us?”

“Give the tapes to you, maybe keep a couple,” Jungkook answered truthfully, “They’re as much yours as they are mine.”

“But you’re the one always recording,” you told him but he just shrugged.

“Because I like it and I like you and I just want to capture every moment we have,” his words sounded more confident now as he sat up not wanting to beat around the bus anymore, “So, Y/n, will you go out with me?”

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

A chill ran down your spine as the song you currently listened to matched the one that had played in a video that was seven or eight years old. As much as you’ve told yourself you’ve changed your music taste has stayed the same and the strange serenity you felt in the beginning with Jungkook never changed either.

Why were you missing him?

It was another late night at the studio, Jungkook spent more time there than at his apartment lately and tonight was no different. Although he did have plans with Taehyung and that blonde he had been telling him about, he’s not sure if he’s interested in actually going. He met her a couple nights ago and Taehyung was right, she’s great, honestly, but something didn’t click right away.

If he met up with Taehyung for this ‘double date’ that might give her the wrong idea and he doesn’t want to hurt her. If he could have her as a friend that would be best. He’s just not ready to give himself to someone when his last break up ended because of something so stupid that he just couldn’t let go.

Jungkook stood outside under a poorly lit street lamp just outside his studio as he smoked a cigarette, taking a small break from photo developing. His studio was located on a quiet street uphill, it had a simple cinderblock look and it wasn’t big but it was somewhat popular. People liked to see his photographs and he would do photoshoots, sell cameras, fix them, he did pretty much anything you could do with a camera. Business might be slow at times but it was peaceful and he made a living wage off doing something that he loved, that’s all he had ever wanted. He was content with where he is now at only 26 and his own business. He didn’t mind being single nor did he care to change that… so he decided he was going to miss out on tonight.

Once he finished his short smoking break, he put the bud out on the floor with his shoe and picked it up to dump in the trash. Just as Jungkook turned back to the door of his studio, he seemed to go still.

For a second he debated rubbing his fists into his eyes in hopes of washing away this mirage but all he managed to do was blink, speechless and frozen. You weren’t better off despite being the reason he was stuck like that and all you could do was stare at him in disbelief.

It was very obviously Jungkook, there was no mistaking it but it also looked like someone completely different in a sense. The Jungkook you dated always dressed in band tees too small for him, spiked chokers, checkered belts, the full emo scene of the time minus the side swept hair—he preferred the longish curls instead. He had a lip piercing and a belly button piercing but that was it. Now you’re looking at him and you’re seeing a man after six years realizing just how much time had passed. He had a tattoo sleeve and small gages, a lip piercing and he wore overly baggy black clothes. His hair was short and straight but it looked good on him and you can’t believe you’re admitting that to yourself right now.

“Is this JeonStudio?” You asked as calmly as you could but your voice still betrayed you at the end. You avoided his gaze, choosing instead to eye the small building somewhat proudly and awkward too. Coming here was on a whim, you had been out with friends when you got curious and searched him up. Yoongi had told you he owned a shop so it wasn’t hard to find and honestly… you didn’t expect to go in and actually see him. Imagine your surprise when he caught you standing outside slightly tipsy? “I don’t suppose you’re open at this hour.”

Jungkook just looked at you, heart racing and half tempted to smoke another cigarette due to growing anxiety but you seemed so casual and he didn’t want to overreact. It’s been too long anyway, he’s dumbfounded. He cleared his throat uncomfortably before walking to the door, not bothering to look back at you as he held it open for you to go in.

Immediately you winced at the loudness of the rock song that played, ears nearly sore from the volume as you stepped into the dark studio. Korn’s ‘Coming Undone’ played loudly as it reared its end and Jungkook left you alone for a moment to lower it back down, skipping the song in favor of listening to something by Alice In Chains. You’ll like to correct yourself; Jungkook might look slightly different because he’s older—but he still seems like the exact guy you left six years ago.

“So what can I do for you?” Jungkook’s voice sounded deeper, more manly and when he stood behind his glass counter of cameras with his hands leaning against it, silver rings on his tattooed fingers and a slight smell of nicotine, you were brought back to before. He let his gaze travel over you in half surprise and half amazement.

Just seeing you after having you stuck in his head for a couple weeks now was a surprise, but to see how you’ve changed? He was amazed. It’s not that you were a completely different person but… wow you’ve grown. You no longer wore your ripped fishnets or beaten Converse and Dr. Martens. Your hair wasn’t in knots and your makeup wasn’t smudged or messy like you did it in the back of a bus on your way to work.

You looked… you looked good, like a matured version of yourself who wasn’t shy to show small hints at what you used to be like.

“I just…” you trailed off looking around the room, “I heard you had your own shop an—“

“And?” Jungkook asked with a firm expression making you look back at him, “I’ve had it for a couple years now, why the sudden interest, Y/n?”

He acted cold and it was a bit of a surprise and you scolded yourself for thinking that. It’s not like you expected him to be all smiles seeing you again. God, why did you come? It felt like one second you’re leaving your friend’s movie night to go home and next you’re standing outside of his studio as he smokes.

Maybe you’ll just leave before you do anything embarrassing.

Jungkook watched you with a blank expression but he would be lying if he said his heart wasn’t racing as he watched you look around. He stood behind the glass case of cameras where the register was at and waited for you to say something.

The changes were subtle but there was no way he could miss them. The biggest was of course your fashion style now, it was different yet he could still pick up hints of how you used to dress. You still preferred black shoes and silver jewelry. Your hair was styled differently now but it still suited you perfectly, you still had your nose pierced and your nails painted.

Something that didn’t change was that familiar sparkle in your eyes when you were curious and right now he could see it as you did a 360 of his studio. He didn’t notice the way his finger began to tap anxiously against the glass waiting to see what you would say about it. He wasn’t looking to impress you or anything but…

“All of these are yours?” You asked as you stepped closer to a portrait on the wall with blue and black hues. Your gaze never shifted away from the portrait so he was forced to give you a verbal response, “Most, some are Taehyung’s.”

At the mention of your old friend you seemed to freeze up a little, “How is he?”

Jungkook couldn’t hold back a scoff as he crossed his arms over his chest, “He’s great, thanks for asking, don’t you want to ask how I am?”

Once again his slight attitude caught you off guard but you weren’t going to let it bring you down, you’ve come this far in your reconciliation. Your eyes narrowed as they met his glare and you rebutted, “I was getting there, jeez.”

This time around it was his turn to be surprised when you rolled your eyes and he hated that the corner of his lips threatened to turn upward in amusement. You finally quit looking at everything but him and turned in his direction like you were finally going to say something only for you to look up in search of the speakers that played a song you remembered he liked. Pink Maggit by Deftones started off slow and quietly but slowly raised volume that Jungkook had to lower it down a little more. He pretended not to notice his ringing phone that buzzed on the counter with Taehyung’s name displayed—probably wondering where he was.

“I don’t know if this holds meaning but I love this place,” you said and a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding slipped out.

“Thanks,” Jungkook said with a huff.

“Seriously Jungkook,” you stood in front of the counter now, “It’s like everything you’ve ever wanted.”

“It is,” he agreed, studying you and falling silent.

The longer he stayed thinking the harder it became to hold himself back and this time, more gentle and calm, he asked, “Y/n, why are you here?”

His phone lit up once more and he flipped it to face down and waited for you to respond. You were quiet for a moment as you tried gathering your thoughts and in the end you found yourself sitting alone in his studio with him confessing about the tapes.

There was a slight tension in the air that seemed to blur out the background noise of the restaurant’s chaos. He felt it but he pretended like he didn’t as he looked at his menu, not sure what to order or if he was even hungry.

“Yuna thinks you’re not interested,” was one of the first things Taehyung said to him as the two met up for dinner one night. Jungkook had already expected his friend to have something to say about the other night when he ditched their plans because something unexpected happened but… but he hadn’t processed what Taehyung had said until it was too late.

“Who?” Jungkook asked absentmindedly, unaware of the glare Taehyung sent him that had him snapping back into realization, “Oh… Oh! Yuna? Yeah, sorry about that.”

“I mean it’s whatever to me but the two of you were really hitting it off,” Taehyung said with a shrug that had Jungkook rolling his eyes.

“Come on, we’ve met once and I was drunk,” Jungkook said, “She’s cute but… I don’t know.”

He ignored the way Taehyung’s eyes seemed to narrow suspiciously, “You don’t know? You seemed to be pretty good talking to her over drinks and now you don’t know? What made you ditch out on me anyway?”

Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “Something came up—“

“No!” Taehyung groaned, “Don’t give me that bullshit. What was it?”

There was a slight pause in the conversation as the server came to take their orders but Taehyung just ushered them away to come back later. Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair, seeming exhausted before saying, “Nothing, honestly, just…”

“Just?”

“Y/n came to the studio.”

Silence filled the space between the two again as Taehyung stared at him dumbfounded. Jungkook couldn’t even think of anything to respond with either so they just sat there feeling the tension grow thicker by the second. After a while, Taehyung released a nervous chuckle and sighed, “Alright, for a second I thought you were being serious. Come up with a better excuse ne—“

“I’m being serious,” Jungkook said and Taehyung was finally able to see the small difference in his friend. His hair was a bit messier and he looked tired but he didn’t look bad he just looked different. “I was working late and you were blowing up my phone to get me to meet up with you guys but there I am smoking a stupid cigarette and she’s standing there like nothing ever happened asking if it’s open!”

“Shit,” Taehyung listened, “So what happened? That’s it? Did you talk? What did you talk about?”

“She asked about you,” Jungkook said with a roll of his eyes, “Then worried about me later but, she still had the tapes.”

“What tapes?”

“The tapes,” Jungkook didn’t care to clarify because his friend should know exactly what he is talking about. It took Taehyung a moment but realization dawned on him and he gasped, “All of the movies you made with her?”

“Yes,” Jungkook said, “I-I had forgotten all about them, honestly but then she comes along telling me she was moving and a friend of hers found them and they made her curious a—fuck, it’s so weird seeing her again.”

“Did Y/n change?” Taehyung asked, watching Jungkook nod his head. Jungkook really did look exhausted like he’s been thinking about this nonstop.

“So much but like… at the same time, it’s still Y/n,” Jungkook said with a small hint of a smile, “She’s still got the same look in her eye and her smile is still the same. I don’t know, we talked about the tapes but that’s really it an—“

“So go talk to her, even if it’s just to catch up,” Taehyung tried saying, half expecting his friend to reject the idea the way he’s rejected anything that had to do with you so to hear that he ditched him because you showed up out of the blue… he wants to know what this means.

In truth, Taehyung cared a lot about you both despite not being friends with you anymore. The three of you met at an impressionable age in your young adult years so it’s hard for him to act like he didn’t care about you two. You would hang out at the skatepark, record stupid videos, do stupid things at work, and you had been one of his best friends. To even hear that you asked about him made him feel good because there’s been so many times when he’s debated just picking up the phone and calling you but never brought himself to do it.

“You think I should talk to Y/n?” Jungkook asked as the server came back once more to ask if they were ready yet but once again Taehyung asked for another minute. He nodded his head, “I think… the two of you didn’t end terribly and if she came to find you then it wouldn’t hurt to talk. I know that it’s been six years and you don’t care anymore [ you’ve said that so many times now ] but personally I would want to see the tapes.”

Jungkook’s leg began to bounce anxiously under the table as he gnawed on his lip ring in thought. “So I should see Y/n?”

“I think so,” Taehyung said with a small smirk, “Or do you really not care because it’s been six years?”

There was a mocking undertone in his voice that Jungkook chose to ignore as he suddenly rose to his feet making his decision abrupt. Taehyung didn’t even bother stopping him as he left him behind in the restaurant, he just found it amusing. When the server came back to check if they were still not ready, Taehyung apologized for wasting their time and left them a tip before leaving too.

It has been six years, that thought hasn’t slipped Jungkook’s mind yet but that’s why he’s so confused. It’s been so long and you dumped him so for you to reach back out to him suddenly telling him you still have the tapes… don’t you realize how that can mess with his head? He’s over you, you’re over him so why would you do that? He has to know and that’s why he called the number you gave him the other night and asked to meet up.

When he got to your apartment building he was a bit taken back by the size of it. Compared to the small shoebox the two of you lived together in once upon a time, this was big and spacious. The inside was honestly what he expected. There was a record player in the corner with some old vinyls he knew you had: Deftones’ Around the Fur, Nirvana’s In Utero, Flyleaf’s Flyleaf, etc. You had a couple dead houseplants in various shades of dark green but no flowers, you seemed to still like the color black and you liked your bands and horror movies. On your coffee table was an arrangement of magazines all from the same publication and a drawing board next to it.

“Do you want anything to drink?” You asked from the kitchen, nervous to see him looking around so curiously. It was strange to have him here at your new place after claiming you were leaving the past in the past. Clearly that had been a lie because you’re the reason he’s here right now, you’re the one who reached out to him so you have no right to feel weird about him calling you tonight.

“Just water,” Jungkook mumbled to himself as his eyes casted down on the rundown box that he had been trying oh-so-desperately to avoid. It was shut but not well and the tape player laid next to it connected to the TV. He was itching to go through the tapes but he was also scared of what he would find on them.

Instead, he walked over to your record player looking through the various vinyls to see if he could play one. You’ve had the same player for years, it’s one he bought with you so he was well used to it and for some reason, he didn’t hesitate to go to it and play something himself like he used to. He chose a Deftones album and ‘Sextape’ began to play just in time for you to come to him with a glass of water looking at him curiously.

“Sorry,” Jungkook said once he realized he had subconsciously done what he used to do anytime he came over to your place, “Force of habit?”

It was stupid that a habit he had six years ago was coming back to him but for some reason seeing you again was making him realize how much the two of you used to love each other. He doesn’t think he has feelings for you still but he did miss you and he’ll never deny that.

Okay, false, he denied it all the time to Taehyung but that was then. He thought he would never see you again and if he did it was just in passing and that you would barely acknowledge him but that’s not what happened and he couldn’t help but miss you. If only he knew you felt the same but he always struggled to read you.

“It’s alright,” you said, moving to sit on the couch with his glass on the table letting him come join you. He sat down with a foot or two of space in between and looked around making you smile. You didn’t mean to smile but he just seemed so curious and intrigued by everything in here and as he looked around you looked at him.

God, he looked different. Last time you didn’t get a good look at his tattoos but right now you’re taking them all in with interest. Back then he would go on and on about all the tattoos he would get and now that he has them, you’ll admit he looks so good. He seemed to be doing so well for himself and that made you feel happy to see him doing what he always wanted to do. The confidence just radiated off him when before he was always a bit more insecure.

Not even just in his future plans but his looks too and now you’re noticing how buff he’s gotten. His arms and shoulders were huge and he looked intimidating, you’re sure if the 18 year old Jungkook saw what he looked like now, he wouldn’t believe it.

“How many have you watched?” Jungkook finally asked in regards of the tapes and for a second you forgot that’s why he came and it wasn’t just to catch up.

“A few, not all of them though,” you confessed looking at the box, “Some are hard to watch.”

He didn’t need you to elaborate to know what you were talking about. Toward the end of your relationship, there wasn’t a time Jungkook wasn’t recording you too and unfortunately that meant he caught a few rough moments on video. He developed them on tapes because he didn’t want to waste them and when he had given them to you he was mad and wanted to be petty so he gave them all but now he wishes he didn’t.

He realizes now that he’s not mad about the past. You dumped him because you were going to school and Jungkook wanted to go back to Busan with no real plan for his future. You worked so well together but it was so obvious that you reached a point where you wanted different things and you’re the one who had the guts to end it. Of course at the time it destroyed him but now that he’s grown from it, he can’t be mad anymore.

“Do you want me to play one?” You asked once he fell silent for too long. Jungkook bit his lip nervously before nodding his head shyly. You left his side to go set everything up and he just watched you feeling anxious. He hasn’t seen these tapes in six years and he’s not sure what to expect.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ JJK 21: THE ARGUMENT ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

The video started with a view of a snake terrarium in your old bedroom. It belonged to Jungkook but when he moved in with you, he brought it with and it stayed. It was red and warm with a small snake hiding in its cave but it was pretty and the two of you used to pass time staring at it with curiosity. There was a soft rock song playing in the background but it was muffled by your voices.

In truth, Jungkook had forgotten he was recording.

“So you’re going back to Busan?” Your voice was a bit groggy and low like you were scared to raise your voice too much. It was late and the two of you had spent most of your time at some manga store after work and have just now gotten home. You’ve been quiet since you had dinner and this is the first thing you’ve said to him since.

Jungkook was in a small Korn band tee that didn’t cover his full waist and showed a bit of his belly button piercing but he never really cared how his clothes fit him. His black jeans were always baggy and torn and his beanies always flattened his hair. He used to have a certain look that drew everyone’s attention even when he didn’t want it.

“Come with me,” Jungkook said in his deep tone, “I know it’s sudden, Y/n, but I don’t want to leave you, I don’t care if it’s not that far.”

“So why leave at all?” You asked, sitting down on bed avoiding his gaze, “You can do whatever you want here, why do you want to go back?”

Jungkook stayed quiet for a moment as he thought about it, “I don’t know, I don’t feel at home.”

You didn’t say anything as you sat on the edge of the bed staring at the wall to avoid looking at him. He hasn’t forgotten that you haven’t answered him yet, “Come with me.”

“I don’t know,” you admitted after some time contemplating, “What would we do?”

“We can stay with my brother for a while, find a job and start working,” Jungkook offered excitedly as he dropped down to his knees in front of you, making sure your attention was on him and not the ground, “We’ll find a place together.”

“What about school?” You asked. You’ve got about a year left, if that, and you can’t just move somewhere else and register all over again. You’ve got internships lined up and the right connections here. You have plans.

Jungkook’s brows furrowed, “You can transfer, it’s not hard, right? Just think about it Y/n, just you and me. We don’t have to worry about your family or anything else.”

“I can’t.”

For a second he wondered if you said anything at all because it was so quiet but when you looked up at him apologetically, he asked, “Why not?”

“I can’t just pick up everything and leave with you Jungkook,” you told him, slightly bothered by the fact that he didn’t understand that, “I’ve got plans that don’t involve me moving to Busan with a boy I’ve dated for a little over a year and who I probably won’t even be with for long.”

“What?” His face hardened as he listened to you, “You don’t want to be with me?”

“I didn’t say that,” you sighed, “I’m sorry, that’s not how I meant it, I just…”

“Just what, Y/n? Because last night we were talking about spending forever together and now you’re saying we won’t be together for long?” Jungkook said with a scoff as he stood up, his camera completely pushed to the back of his mind.

You ran your hand over your face with worry, “That was before you told me you want to move back to Busan,” you said honestly, “I don’t want to go anywhere, if you want to go and start over somewhere else then do it but you can’t just ask me to change everything I’ve had planned just so I could follow you. You don’t even have a real plan to go back. It might not feel like home to you here, Jungkook, but it does for me and it’s not fair that you can just ask me to pack up and leave when we’ve got nothing going on.”

“We have each other,” Jungkook’s voice was softer because he sounded hurt, “Isn't that enough?”

“For you, maybe, but not for me,” you argued coldly, “I can’t change my life for you.”

Jungkook stood there seemingly frozen as you got up from the bed, pushing past him and locking yourself in the bathroom away from him. He wasn’t sure what to think right now other than this was the first argument the two of you have ever had. It was an argument, right?

What even happened? You had spent such an amazing day together, he picked you up after your last class and you went out to eat. You went to a park where he played a song for you on the guitar you bought him and the two of you had been laughing all day. It felt so sweet until the moment he mentioned Busan and suddenly you had grown distant.

Suddenly you were saying the two of you wouldn’t last, is that true?

“Y/n?” You could hear Jungkook call for you with a small knock on the door, “Babe, can we talk?”

“I don’t want to,” you sniffled, “I just want to be alone right now.”

Jungkook pulled away from the door feeling dejected and blown off. He ran his fingers through his messy hair anxiously and looked around your shared bedroom for his things. He’ll just give you time to yourself and maybe later you could think things through again.

As he looked for his phone and keys, his eyes landed on the camcorder that captured the moment his snake left its cafe to curl up against a small log. He picked the camera up curiously, eyes widening as he saw it was recording.

․ ∘ ⊹ ✰ ┆ THE END ┆ ✰ ⊹ ∘ .

Jungkook sat there as still as ever, staring at the screen with glossy eyes as he watched the frozen image of himself pick up his camera—realizing he left it on. He looked down at his glass of water, feeling his throat become dry as he brought it to his lips, hand shaking.

Although it was six years ago and he had not thought about it once… seeing this video just brought him back to that day. It wasn’t the only argument the two of you had but he must’ve learned his lesson and kept the camera off. Later on the two of you argued and you said some hurtful things to him that you later apologized for but it didn’t make him feel any different.

That was the moment he realized maybe the relationship really would not have lasted long.

“Jungkook,” your voice was so soft now, slightly deeper and more mature but anytime you said his name it made his head spin nonetheless like he still couldn’t believe it.

When he looked up at you, you’re not sure what you had expected but it definitely wasn’t the sight of his reddened eyes as he took jagged breaths trying to calm his racing heart.

It’s just… back then he had been struck with such limerence that all he could think about was the two of you together anyway it could be. Sometimes it didn’t even matter if you weren’t sexually intimate, just knowing someone loved him and wanted him was enough and when you broke up with him… it hurt. It hurt really fucking bad and this video reminded him a bit of how that felt.

“I kept some tapes too,” he finally admitted, clearing his throat and changing the subject in hopes that you wouldn’t see how he was feeling. He circled the rim of his glass with his index finger as he looked down at his lap to avoid your soft gaze. A smile came to his face as he scoffed, “Um, this is kinda embarrassing to admit but… the last person I dated dumped me because I wouldn’t throw them away.”

“Because of the memories?” You asked quietly and he nodded. That’s how Jungkook was, once he told you how he never wanted to forget anything no matter how it made him feel and in this case he wanted to remember you no matter what happened and in a sense you had been the same. You wanted to keep the tapes because being with him had felt like home to you and you never wanted to leave it behind even if you said you were over it.

Watching them again was making you realize how much you needed Jungkook at the time and how much he had needed you. Maybe you still need him and it took you this long to admit that, knowing he couldn’t let you go either was like a slap in the face after the things you said to him.

The amount of times you argued that you had a future planned that didn’t need him in it only because you were heading toward different directions in life. Where Jungkook was more laidback, you were uptight and that had not been a good mix then. You told him you couldn’t just sit around in Busan and only have what the two of you had to rely on because one day he might decide he doesn’t need you anymore and throw you away after you changed your life for him. In the end, things happened in reverse and you wish you could just take it all back.

“Y/n—“

Jungkook went quiet as the soft buzz of a phone ringing cut him off and he was thankful. He didn’t even know what he planned on telling you and that scared him. Would he tell you that he missed you or that he thinks it would be best to never speak again?

You both looked down at your phone screen as it sat on the coffee table with a picture of you and Jimin smiling happily as he called. Your gaze shifted to Jungkook, “What were you going to say?”

The call came to an end and your attention was on him but he didn’t want to speak anymore and before he could tell you it didn’t matter, this stranger called again. He cleared his throat, “Um, you should answer that, it’s late anyway and we’ve both got work tomorrow. If you ever want to talk again… maybe we can, you have my number but I should go.

Your brows furrowed, shaking your head no as he set the glass down next to your ringing phone and stood up suddenly, “Jungkook, wai—“

He didn’t stop till he was out the door running his fingers through his hair, feeling exhausted and unsure of himself.

Watching that video reminded him that the two of you broke up for a reason and it had been valid at the time. It has been the right decision too even if it hurt and although it felt like a ‘Right Person Wrong Time’ moment, there’s nothing to do now and there’s no point in dwelling on the past.

He’s moved on.

Just as you debated following him out, your phone rang once more and with a dejected sigh, you answered, “What do you want?!”

“Whoa, chill on the attitude I’ve been trying to get you to answer because I have a serious question,” Jimin said on the other end of the line. Your face softened as you grew curious and worried “What is it?”

“Am I a gold or silver jewelry type of guy?” Jimin asked as he held up two matching bracelets in thought. You went quiet on your end and he raised a curious brow only to wince at the second your voice rose a couple octaves.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” You groaned, throwing yourself back on your couch annoyed that Jungkook left in such a hurry because Jimin had been blowing up your phone.

“Dead serious.”

Click.

“Hello?” Jimin spoke to himself hearing the line end, “Did you hang up on me?”

The end of the week came quicker than you had expected and yet time felt to slow down for you too. Ever since Jungkook came to your apartment and watched that video with you, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. The look in his eyes had captured your attention more than the video had but when he left without finishing what he was going to say… that’s when you got caught up. He used to always do that to you, he would start to say something and then try and push it away so he should know by now that you would think about it.

You just can’t help but wonder what he was going to say and it’s been eating at you for days.

“Y/n, can you pretend to listen to me?” Jimin asked as he bumped his wine glass again at yours to get your attention.

“What?” You asked looking up at your two friends who stared at you with confusion, “Sorry.”

Somin’s brows furrowed, “What’s up with you? You haven’t even touched your food.”

Your plate sat there barely eaten while theirs had been cleared out. You seemed to have forgotten where you were and it wasn’t until now that you looked around to see the three of you were still sitting in a dimly lit booth having an extremely late dinner on a Saturday night.

“Nothing, I’ve just been… y'know,” you shrugged, lifting up your silverware in hopes of finding the motivation to finish your meal. You bit your lip anxiously, your friends watching you made you nervous and it was very apparent. You haven’t told them about seeing Jungkook again but you’re not sure what they would make of it and that’s the only thing that has stopped you. You’re not sure what you even make of it, much less what they would think but you’re starting to realize maybe you need a second opinion.

“I met with Jungkook,” you finally said and despite the loudness of the restaurant, your table seemed to fall silent as they both looked at you.

“When?”

“Well, the first time, a couple weeks ago,” you said honestly, “The last time… two nights ago.”

They shared a look with each other that you had no desire to learn the meaning of before Jimin asked, “This is the ex boyfriend, right? The VCR tapes boyfriend?”

“That’s the one,” you said awkwardly, “We watched a tape the other night, it wasn’t a good one but… I don’t know.”

“You mean you invited him over?” Somin asked, making you shake your head no and she continued, “He just showed up? So did he find you first?”

“Nope, I looked for him,” you told them, hiding your face in your hands, “I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why?” Jimin asked, “Did you two argue?”

“No,” you told him, “No, we didn’t… it’s just…”

“It’s just now you can’t stop thinking about him,” Somin said instead of asked and you nodded your head yes. She released a sigh, “It’s been six years, Y/n.”

“I know,” you groaned letting your head fall into your hands further, “That’s why I’m so confused.”

“But was he mad or anything?” Jimin asked.

“No.”

“Then why don’t you try and talk to him?” He went on making you look at him.

“And tell him what?”

“That maybe you should start over—“

“No!” Somin said, “No, it’s been too long. Do you honestly think Jungkook would want that? All they did was talk, it just doesn’t make sense. It’s not like he's been waiting six years to hear from Y/n.”

You had to agree with her, you have no idea what Jungkook thinks about all this if he even does.

Not far from where you were with your friends was a packed street filled with nightlife and club goers all getting into their Saturday night and he was amongst them. He rarely chooses to come out for drinks and loud music unless it’s with his friends and this time was no different. After spending the past forty eight hours practically shut in his shop, Taehyung finally got him to come out to meet with the girls from last time.

Although he had sworn off meeting with Yuna again so he wouldn’t lead her on… he found himself doing it anyway. He just needed a distraction, you’re all he’s been able to think about and it wasn’t good for him. He couldn’t think about you like this.

You were his ex-girlfriend from so long ago and though meeting with you reminded him little by little of how well you used to be together… he can’t get over the fact that you left him. You left him when he needed you and that should have been the end of it. That had been the end of it. He had gone to Busan and you went your own way, when he came back to Seoul he only thought about you every now and then like when Taehyung would bring you up… or when he would remember the tapes… or listen to Deftones… or look at the guitar you gave him…

Maybe he did think about you frequently but not as frequent as this and he didn’t like it. You’ve been a constant in his mind since he first saw you standing under a street lamp not far from him asking if his studio was open. You’ve been a constant in his mind since he first ever met you too and it’s not fair that after you left him you get to come back and try to reconcile as friends.

“Want a smoke?” Taehyung asked his friend after he realized Jungkook had gone quiet for too long even when Yuna tried to ask him things. He didn’t give a verbal response, only nodded his head and began walking out of the packed club in hopes of more room to breathe.

Taehyung didn’t hesitate to reach into his pack of cigarettes and hand one to Jungkook watching his friend take it gladly and search his pockets for a lighter. He lit the end and did the same for Taehyung, looking up at the sky and attempting to tune out the loudness of the club behind him.

“So what’s up?” Taehyung asked, “You agreed to come out tonight but you seem out of it. Yuna’s been asking you questions nonstop and you’ve barely batted an eye at her.”

“I don’t know,” Jungkook took a drag of the cigarette, blowing it out shortly after with a shrug of his shoulders, “I’ll tell her I’m not feeling good or something.”

Taehyung didn’t say anything for a moment as he studied his best friend, finally asking, “Did you end up seeing Y/n?”

When Jungkook didn’t immediately react, Taehyung knew the answer. He flicked ash off the end of his cigarette and asked, “The night we had dinner?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, avoiding his friend’s gaze, “She didn’t ask about you this time, sorry.”

Taehyung just shrugged, knowing his friend was trying to lighten the growing tension but he didn’t care. He asked, “So then what did you talk about?”

“Not much,” Jungkook cleared his throat, a cloud of smoke covering his vision for a moment as he moved to the side to let a group of drunks through, “We watched one of the tapes though.”

“Which one?”

“It was an argument. I think it was when I first brought up Busan,” Jungkook admitted, kicking a rock with the tip of his black combat boot.

Taehyung nodded understandingly, “That’s it?”

“Pretty much, I left because some guy kept calling her,” Jungkook said, “I wasn’t sure if it was her boyfriend or not.”

Taehyung released a scoff, “You couldn’t have asked?”

“Why would it matter to me if it was?” Jungkook asked, “We’re exes for a reason, right?”

“And what was the reason, Jungkook?” Taehyung asked with a slightly harsher tone at his friend’s nonchalance, “Because you wanted her to follow you somewhere new and she didn’t want to. You’re back now, there’s no reason to not talk anymore so why didn’t you ask?”

“It won’t change anything,” Jungkook argued, annoyed by his friend’s need to always make him think about you when he didn’t want to, “So why bother?”

“Because it’s Y/n!” Taehyung said, “I get it, I really do. It’s been so long since you dated and it might not mean shit now but it did then and that’s never going to change no matter how hard you try and lie to yourself about it. And if it really didn’t matter anymore then you wouldn’t be out here tonight trying to forget seeing her again.”

“I went to see her because you told me to,” Jungkook said through gritted teeth.

“No,” Taehyung scoffed, “You went to see her because you wanted to, I just gave you the final push.”

“Nothing’s going to change thinking about her,” Jungkook said, “She’s a new person, so am I.”

“But on the inside you’re both still those same kids who ran away from home only to find it in each other again,” Taehyung said with a softer tone, “Come on man, I hate this sappy shit but open your eyes and realize that your home has always been with Y/n, that’s why you came back.”

“You’re wrong,” Jungkook glared at the ground, a lump forming in his throat, “She dumped me, she didn’t need me—“

“That’s not true and you know it, you grew apart because you wanted different things at the time but what about now?” Taehyung asked, “Y/n looked for you—I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to make you mad talking about it but Yoongi called me a few weeks back—right before you told me she went to the studio. Who do you think told her you were back?”

Jungkook didn’t say anything as he watched his cigarette burn on its own. He remembers when you went and you talked about the tapes but he didn’t have the courage to ask how you knew where he worked or that he had moved back. He should have asked but did it matter?

The muffled sound of music and chatter blurred out the silence that had grown between the two friends and Taehyung knew Jungkook had nothing to say. When a phone began to ring and the chest pocket of Jungkook’s black plaid flannel lit up with the outline of a screen and Taehyung didn’t have to ask to know who that might be. He dropped his cigarette on the floor to put it out with his shoe before placing an encouraging hand on his friend’s shoulder and leaving him outside alone.

For a moment Jungkook debated following him back into the dark nightclub and pretending like he was having the time of his life with Yuna but he knew he wouldn’t. He reached into his pocket and answered the call without another wasted second of hesitation, “Hello?”

“Jungkook, hey?” Your voice sounded a bit hoarse and he could hear noise behind you, “Are you, um, bu—do you have a moment?”

Jungkook looked up at the moon, taking a deep breath coming to terms with the fact that he’s afraid to open himself up to you again even if it’s just as acquaintances, “I’m not busy.”

“Really?” You asked slightly surprised, “Well, I—I was wondering if maybe you… um… maybe you wanted to meet me somewhere? O-or if, y’know you’re home… maybe I could come over to talk about us? My friend interrupted us last time and I feel like a lot of things went unsaid.”

You mentally cringed at yourself for sounding so nervous but what else was there to be expected? If you didn’t tell Jungkook how you felt now then maybe it’ll be another six years before you get to do it again—or worse, you won’t get another chance.

Jungkook looked around for the street sign as if he could imagine the distance he is from your place, “Where are you?”

Your heart seemed to raise, “I’m out with friends downtown but I can leave right no—“

“Where downtown?” He asked, walking just a bit away from the club entrance, listening to you tell him the street, “I’m a couple blocks down from there, at Club X.”

“Club X?” You asked and for a moment he debated telling you he was just with Taehyung but you quickly said, “Don’t move, I’ll walk.”

“Y/n, wai—“

Click.

Jungkook ran his fingers through his hair nervously, looking around once more knowing he should just stay put but you told him where you were too and the thought of just standing here waiting for you to arrive didn’t sit well with him. It would be too long of a wait and if he waits any longer he’s scared he’ll back out from wanting to see you too… so he ran.

You left your friends without much thought to how they felt about it, you paid your bill and left them just like that, practically running out the door. Before Jungkook could reject your proposal you hung up on him and that meant that if he didn’t want to see you then he would be leaving soon and you had to get to him before he did. You just needed to be honest.

Your feet ached from the heels you wore but that didn’t stop you from running down the uneven sidewalk, bumping into people on your way and checking for traffic whenever you crossed a street.

You wanted to be with him again, or at least try to be even if it was just as friends. It didn’t even have to be romantically [even if all the romantic feelings you had for him came back], you’ll take whatever he gives you as long as you know that he might feel the same. That’s all you want to know, that he might feel the same so you ran to him.

Jungkook was out of breath but he moved at a quicker pace than you did, running so fast he nearly dropped the person that bumped into him but he caught them before they could fall and held them by the arm, “Sorry.”

You stopped, tightening your hold on his forearm in shock, “Jungkook?”

He nearly stumbled as he froze on the spot, looking down at the person he bumped into on his way to you and his heart raced, “Y/n.”

“Jungkook, I—I told you to wait,” you stuttered as the two of you stood there at the end of a crosswalk ignoring all the people that passed you, “I—it’s about us, I wanted to see you—“

“Y/n,” he repeated your name, eyes scanning your face for any sign that you might regret asking to meet him but he found none. Before he could stop himself, his hands had made their way to your jaw, pulling you closer and it was all you needed to see to throw your arms around his neck and drag him down to meet your lips with his.

Jungkook didn’t hesitate to kiss you back with as much need and desire as you had and let his eyes shut, relishing in the feel of your soft lips that he had forgotten the taste of. The small kiss had been everything he missed, so soft and tender yet there was no mistaking the intense longing in each languid movement of your tongue with his that he nearly forgot where the two of you were till a car was honking annoyingly at the public display of affection—egging it on.

You pulled back with a pant, trying to catch your breath as your eyes ran along his face trying to understand his expression, hands sliding down to his ribs unsure if you should hold him or not. There was a lot you wanted to say but right now you wanted to feel him like this more, “Where?”

Jungkook bit his lip, breathing heavily through his nose as he slid his hand into yours and pulled you toward the street raising a hand to call a cab, “Mine.”

He was also aware that the two of you needed to talk and he planned on doing that but first… first he just needed to have you in his arms again. He just needed to feel you want him back one more time before the weight of whatever the two of you talked about came crashing down and there was no going back. It’s been six years of not being with you, you would think any ounce of romantic attraction would be gone and yet every time he remembered you or thought about you, it hit him harder than before and he spent the cab ride kissing you like he would never get the chance again—and he might not.

When you got to his house, you didn’t get a chance to look around when Jungkook was dragging you back into his arms, kicking the front door shut and kissing you.

“We’ll talk after,” you said more to yourself than to him when he yanked off his unbuttoned flannel, walking you backwards down a hall.

“After,” Jungkook repeated, breathless as he pulled away to kiss down your neck, placing soft kisses along your jaw and down your jugular. You craned yourself back to give him more room and dunk your fingers into his short black hair. He let his hands roam down your body, memorizing the feel of you under his fingertips once more and gripping your sides as you released a small gasp when the back of your knees hit a bed and you were falling back. His hands went to your back feeling along the material of your short black dress he hadn’t had a chance to admire and gently touched your ass, making you breathless before you felt his fingers slip under the hem further to feel along your spine, pulling the dress up until you were taking it off.

“It’s been so long,” he whispered softly between small kisses along your shoulder blade, letting you fall back on the bed in nothing but your underwear and bra. He sat back on his knees, staring down at you with glossy eyes. God, he missed you so much. He missed everything about you from your body to the way you used to softly run your fingers through his hair.

Six years.

Six years without seeing you laying down underneath him sliding a finger between the valley of your breasts teasingly, reaching behind you to take it off. He watched, nearly hypnotized by the way you slowly revealed all of yourself to him, saying, “Too long, I’ve almost forgotten how you feel.”

Jungkook licked his lips looking down at your bare chest, sinking down to lower his head until his nose lightly brushed against your soft skin making you wither just a little.

“I’ll fix that,” he whispered, eyes meeting yours and pressing a light kiss on your exposed breast, warm breath tickling you and making you bite your lip with anticipation.

“I want to see you,” your voice was as soft as his had been and he couldn’t help but sigh in content, nodding his head and pulling back to undress. He yanked off the black t-shirt he had worn under his flannel and kicked off his black denim jeans throwing them off somewhere on the floor near his snake terrarium that produced a red light—a huge contrast to the blue hue of light the rest of his apartment showed. When he sat bare between your parted legs you took in the sight of him.

His tattoos danced across his skin with every flex of his arms and it was all so new to you that you wanted to memorize it all. You reached your hands out hesitant to touch him, and heard a quiet gasp come from between his lips when your hands ran over his chest feeling every ridge of abdomen muscle, until you touched the top ball of his belly button piercing—surprised he still had it. His muscles tightened, feeling your fingertip slide back up until you were tracing the patterns of ink on his arm and shoulder.

"Y/n," Jungkook said your name with such tenderness that you stopped and looked up immediately, watching him hover over you and lower his mouth to the expanse of your neck sucking on your skin lightly. You bit your lip with want feeling his kisses moving lower, kissing along your collarbone. You ran your hands along his back when his tongue licked down to the valley of your breasts, tracing circles around your hardened nipple teasingly, bringing one into his mouth and sucking gently. The tip of his tongue flicked at your bud before capturing the whole thing in his mouth and licking the end, hands running along your sides to keep your body in place.

He kept this up for some time that all you could do was lay there and attempt to catch your breath as he memorized himself with your body again. It wasn’t just your breasts that got attention, he kissed your ribs and stomach, down your arms and along your neck. When he kissed along your navel toward your pelvis, his rough fingertips played with the hem of your panties until you were lifting your hips enough for him to slip them off you, leaving you just as nude as he.

“I missed this,” he said hoarsely, hands sliding down your inner thighs until he was slowly pulling them apart and fixing himself comfortably between them, “I don’t think you realize how much.”

He didn’t even realize how much he had missed—he didn’t allow himself to and now that he’s done it, it’s all he could focus on.

“I missed you too,” your tone was soft yet he could feel the emotion through it and it made him pause for a moment, debating if this was a confession or not and if he should stop so the two of you could talk.

He hadn't even touched you in the place you needed him most and yet you were on edge already. It’s not like you had expected to even kiss—much less this—that you found yourself already aroused but it felt so good to have him touch you again. After so much time apart, your body still reacted to him the way it used to and part of that scared you to admit.

"Jungkook," you licked your lips when his hair tickled against your cunt meaning he was getting closer. He hummed in response. Your voice was dry as you asked, "Condom?" It took him a second to pull away looking you in the eye as he sat back. Realization hit him like a truck as he stared down at your naked body then his, painfully aware of his hardened member and how quickly you had made him like this with only some kissing and teasing. He shook his head, "I don't—"

You sat up enough to pull him down and kiss him again, wanting nothing more but for this to continue whether you had a condom or not. “I don’t care, if you don’t.”

It didn’t take him long to understand what you meant and with the way your tongue kissed his, he couldn’t deny you even if he wanted to. Before, he used to take his time with you, making sure he satisfied all your needs with his tongue or fingers—whatever you wanted and he had subconsciously decided to do that tonight too. The only difference is that it’s been too long to take his time, he needed you now.

Your eyes ran over his body, still in disbelief with the sight of him above you, watching his hand slide down his toned stomach to his aching member. He stroked the tip of his cock softly, in search of some release as he let you take all the time you needed to watch him. The room was quiet aside from your heavy panting and buzz of his heat lamp but it still felt so loud. Your blood rushed to your ears, realizing what the two of you were doing and for a moment you wondered if this was a good idea but it didn’t take long for you to realize you didn’t care either way. You could worry about the repercussions later.

Jungkook leaned down between your parted thighs until his lips brushed against yours and his hard cock pressed against your wet heat, “You’re still the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

Your heart dropped at his tender words, breath hitching in your throat and letting your hands touch against his arms, “Even after so long?”

There was a soft sound of a cricket not far outside the window and when he whispered, “Everlong,” to you, you had to stop and stare into his eyes in search of something to say. It was a small ode to Foo Fighters’ song ‘Everlong’ and how no matter how much time you spent apart, he would forever feel this way about you.

The red heat lamp did little to light the room along the moon but he still saw the way your eyes seemed to water, feeling your hands brush against his cheek, “I’m sorry.”

He seemed to freeze even as his cock aligned with your folds, coated in your arousal and all he needed was one push of his hips to feel you once more and yet he stopped, “Sorry?”

Did you want to stop?

Did you realize that this might not be the best idea?

Had he said something that made you want to leave?

“I was scared,” you admitted suddenly, “We wanted different things and I was scared that you would realize that after it was too late and you would just throw me away.”

He resisted the urge to scoff, bringing a hand up to push your hair out of your face and onto the pillow, “You know I never would have, baby.”

The pet name slipped out without his intention, “I never loved anyone as much as I loved you.”

It didn’t slip by either of you his use of past tense but you understood what he meant and you hated that you couldn’t before. It’s crazy how a silly little friendship between two coworkers who like the same music and style had developed so far out into the future that when your relationship ended, you couldn’t ever fully move on.

“I want to feel you,” you whispered, your nose brushing against his as he dropped his head to look down at the small space between your bodies. Jungkook was gentle in finding your entrance with the tip of his cock, guiding himself between your folds until you released a gasp at the stretch. Although it hurt for a moment, it didn’t take your body long to get used to him—like it had been waiting to feel him all this time and your mouths drew open in silent gasps when he bottomed out waiting there for the stretching. Even without foreplay your bodies seemed to know exactly what they needed to do and you hugged him, releasing a small moan in his ear as he dropped his head against your neck. Jungkook felt his heart race as you clung to him, letting him get used to feeling your walls around his dick once more and for a second it felt like too much, “Oh fuck, I missed you.”

“I missed you so much,” you confessed with a sigh when he drew his hips back slightly before bringing them forward in a single thrust as if testing the waters first, “So much, Jungkook.”

What’s crazy is how you had been so unaware of it as if some of the things you did weren’t constant reminders of him that you had to force yourself to forget. You still wore beanies because of him, you listened to fucking Korn because of him, you still slept on the right side because he liked the left—even when past partners would argue that they liked that side too, you never changed it. You had craved him in every aspect of your life even when you had forgotten it… that’s why you kept the tapes.

You let out a moan from his slow thrusts, in and out, in and out, dragging his cock out slowly as if letting you remember what it felt like to have him inside of you against and it had your legs moving to wrap around his waist. You grip his shoulders tightly moving your hips in rhythm with his, it was a slow and sensual yet rough fucking that had you begging, “Jungkook, more."

He rose his head from your neck, hips thrusting his thick cock into your wet pussy, doing exactly what you wanted.

He licked the corner of your mouth as you watched his hips draw back before pushing forward harshly, “I wanted to stop thinking about you, baby, but I couldn’t.”

You heard him clearly and you didn’t need to ask to understand what he meant, you simply ran your hands down his toned, muscular back guiding him to fuck you harder as he went on, “Even when I thought I hated you, I couldn’t let you go.”

The two of you were supposed to talk after and yet he he was losing his rhythm and talking to you while passionately and aggressively fucking you. “I’m sorry,” you repeated with a soft moan, “I should have never left you.” You kiss him for a moment before he moves down and leaves a bite on your chest making you whine out from it and he moves his hands down to your hips, gripping tightly as he fucked you harder, “You’re right, you shouldn’t have.”

" Jungkook," you moaned again, clinging to him, feeling your climax close, "I still love you."

He seemed to come to a halt at your sudden confession and you nearly pushed him away, surprised by yourself and your impulsiveness but he only pressed his body harder against yours.

"I love you so fucking much," he growled into your chest as he began to pound into you. The room filled with a string of moans as he fucked you unlike he ever had before, completely different yet still as passionate as he used to and moaned into your ear, “So close.”

“Ngh,” you gasped, “You feel so good, I think I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Mhm,” he hummed in content, clinging to you as much as possible, “Please, Y/n, I need to feel it, one more time baby, it’s been so long since you came for me.”

His thumb had slid down your body until it found your clit which had hardened with arousal and he rubbed light patterns around it, feeling your walls twitch and it became harder for him to drag his cock back out with the way you tightened.

“I’m going to cum,” he admitted, nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs urging you to let him go but your legs held him in place and he realized what you wanted—he wanted it too. He didn’t want to pull away from you for even a second and as your walls convulsed around him with release, he couldn’t help but let go with a moan.

He held your body to his panting heavily as your sweat covered bodies clung to each other desparatelt, both letting your orgasms ride their wave before pulling apart.

It took him a moment to gather enough strength to pull out, doing so with a small tired grunt until he was rolling onto his back feeling out of breath, hand searching for yours on the bed.

The realization that the two of you just had unprotected sex after six years apart seemed to hit you first and you sat up worried, looking over at him as he struggled to catch his breath, “Bathroom?”

He lifted a tired hand toward his en suite and you left him tired and alone in the darkness of his bedroom.

You cleaned yourself up as best as you could, trying not to let what just happened cloud your mind and remind yourself that you had wanted to talk to him. You’re not sure what this meant, if this meant anything more than just sex between ex lovers or if this was more but you didn’t have much time to question it when Jungkook knocked on the bathroom door and let himself in. He walked past you to the large bathtub, running the water and letting it fill as he looked at you with worry, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded your head, biting your lip, “You?”

A small smile came to his face as the water quickly filled behind him, “Yeah.”

When the bathtub was filled, Jungkook took your hand in his and led you inside the water, “But we should talk.”

“I agree,” you said, suddenly shy by your nakedness and brought your knees to your chest, sinking into the water with your back pressed against the side of the rub. Jungkook sat on the other end, never letting go of your hand as he pulled you toward him until you were between his legs with your back against his chest.

“Y/n,” his voice was soft as he cupped water in his palm to pour down on your bare shoulder, “I really did miss you.”

You released your lip from between your teeth, leaning further against him, “I missed you too.”

“And I want to be with you,” Jungkook admitted, “Even if it’s not how it used to be.”

It was impossible to be how it was six years ago and he’s realized that now but he doesn’t care. If you asked him to be friends even after the passionate sex the two of you had just had, he would do it as long as it meant he could be with you.

“You don’t hate me?” You asked sounding worried. You still loved him and it was embarassing enough to know you finally admitted it when he was inside you but it didn’t change the fact that it was true. You loved Jungkook so much and maybe you always had deep down even when you told yourself you didn’t but could the two of you really try this again?

“I could never,” he said placing a soft kiss on your shoulder as he began to wash the front of your body with his sponge, “You know that.”

“But I left you—“

“No, I left you,” Jungkook said, “I’m the one who wanted to move Y/n, not you. I’m the one who made you feel like you had to choose.”

You stayed quiet and he worried he upset you.

“I came back because I realized that my home wasn’t anywhere else but with you,” he confessed, “And I was too much of a coward when I came back that I didn’t go looking for you the second I had the chance to.”

“Jungkook,” you turned to face him, cuddling into him in the bathtub and eyes wide with affection, “Let’s try, one more time. L-let’s, let’s give us a shot… I… I—I have so much I wish I could’ve done better and if you just give me a chance I promise I will love and support anything you do—“

“Y/n, I would give us a million chances over again if it means I could be with you still.”

::.

yallllll the took me forever 😭ik there wasn’t too much focus on their relationship in the tapes but that’s bc I’m gonna do drabbles of them when I get the chance

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover7 @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedal edel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine e @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun n @sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi i @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

#jeon jungkook #Jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #Jungkook fic #Jungkook oneshot #Jungkook one shot #Jungkook angst #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #Jungkook fluff #Jungkook drabble #jungkook series #jungkook #jungkook bts #bts jungkook

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fastandcarlos · 4 months ago

Text

Vamos Madrid : ̗̀➛ Carlos Sainz

summary: as the newest signing for real madrid, you can't help but capture the attention of a certain spanish driver

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liked by olgacarmona7, realmadridfem and 349,706 others

ynusername: such a proud day to sign for this incredible club…hala madrid 🤍⚽️

48,103 comments

username1: ahh i can't believe this finally happened for you!!!! 🤩

chelseafcwomen: thank you for all that you've done for our great club, wishing you all the best for the future yn!

username2: can't wait to support you on this new chapter yn 🎉

elliecarpenterr: at least i'll finally get some rest from you constantly messaging me about this now

ynusername: @/elliecarpenterr thanks for being my agony aunt over the past few weeks

username3: i hope real madrid know what they're in for with a talent like you 😂

carolineweir95: your spanish tour guide is at your service 🫡

ynusername: @/carolineweir95 cannot wait for a thousand and one coffee dates with you

username4: i've never been happier to see a post from you omg

realmadridfem: welcome yn! we can't wait to have you as part of the team 🤍

username5: officially now real madrid's number one fan btw

mackenziearnold: imma miss just being able to drive up the road to see you 😭

username6: at least you won't have to deal with the british weather anymore

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liked by landonorris, georgerussell63 and 1,604,394 others

carlossainz55: thanks to real madrid for hosting me this evening, had a great time cheering the women on ☺️🤍

284,640 comments

username7: we love a man who gets behind the womens team as much as the mens 🤩

landonorris: it still disgusts me that of all the teams you support real madrid 🙄

carlossainz55: @/landonorris i refuse to take abuse from a fake fan like you!!

username8: i can't believe carlos was in the same stadium as yn tonight

username9: hala madrid ⚽️

georgerussell63: one day i'll introduce you to a team that's actually good at football

username10: hope you had the best time and got to meet lots of the players

schecoperez: could they find you a tighter top to wear??? 😂😂😂

carlossainz55: @/schecoperez gotta show off the physique somehow

username11: i was just thinking how long it's been since we had madrid content from carlos

charles_leclerc: now that you've posted can you stop talking about that footballer that you met please??

username12: wait carlos met one of the players...who? when? why? omg i've got so many questions 🤔

username13: carlos sainz we need all the gossip asap

lewishamilton: so that's why you refused to come out for food with me tonight 🙄

olgacarmona7: on behalf of the team, thank you for all of your support tonight

ynusername: thanks for the photo...

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liked by charles_leclerc, samanthakerr20 and 493,607 others

ynusername: off season at last 🌴✅

39,102 comments

signebruun20: can we all just take a moment to appreciate how stunning you are

username14: it's unfair for one person to look this good 😓

samanthakerr20: lock up your wardrobe next time i see you otherwise it's all mine

ynusername: @/samanthakerr20 just gonna screenshot for the prosecution

username15: are we all just going to pretend that we don't see that middle photo?? 😅

username16: i can't believe yn might finally have a boyfriend

linda_caicedo11: off season looks pretty good on you 💕

username17: you can't just post something like that and not say anything else yn omg

caitlinfoord: idc about timezones pick up the damn phone now woman 😂😂

username18: anyone else feel like that hand looks suspiciously familiar?

evanavarro12: so you go on holiday with someone and don't even tell me about it first. rude. 💔

username19: yn i'm not willing to play this soft launch game i swear-

stephcatley: did you move to madrid for the football or the men btw??

username20: charles in the likes too...makes me wonder

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liked by lewishamilton, pierregasly and 1,492,705 others

carlossainz55: turns out I’ve still got it ⚽️💪🏻

189,584 comments

username21: footballer carlos is a vibe that i didn't know i needed in my life 🥺

landonorris: all the gear and no idea 😂

carlossainz55: @/landonorris are you asking for me to block you or something??

username22: oh to play football with THE carlos sainz...

alex_albon: one day when i imagine myself being a footballer, i want to look like you

username23: jw is there anything that this man can't do??? ☺️

lancestroll: i need the secrets for that hair asap my friend

pierregasly: i thought the spanish were supposed to be good at football 🤔

username24: why is this man suddenly obsessed with football once again

lewishamilton: bets you managed a total of 10 keepie uppies before dropping it

carlossainz55: @/lewishamilton it was 11 i'll have you know 😂

username25: the hair. the shirt. the concentration. i cannot cope.

maxverstappen1: i really hope this isn't you trying to play it cool

ynusername: if you want some pro tips you know where i am

carlossainz55: @/ynusername might just take you up on that offer

username26: omg first date when?? ❤️❤️❤️❤️

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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 329,607 others

ynusername: turns out red suits me just as well as white does ❤️🏎️

59,293 comments

username27: stfu i can't believe this is happening 🫢🫢🫢

georgerussell63: come and test out the white at mercedes instead 😂

caitlinfoord: what is happening to you right now, how’ve you managed to get to go to the f1 for free 😬

username28: someone pinch me, is this really yn in the ferrari garage

charles_leclerc: hope you enjoyed your weekend with us!!

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc it was the best time tysm 🫶🏻

username29: anyone else praying that these photos mean what we want them to mean?

samanthakerr20: and you just conveniently forgot the invite for your best friend…I see how it is

username30: i'd argue that red suits you so much better btw 🤩🤩

carlossainz55: we loved having you with us, dare I say you’re an f1 fan now??

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 you might’ve just convinced me 🥺

username31: red suits you more than white suits carlos hahah

username32: not yn tryna get in on the soft launch game too

maxverstappen1: btw carlos did not stop talking about the fact that you were here with us all weekend…

carlossainz55: @/maxverstappen1 shut your face now!!!

landonorris: wtf you were supposed to come and visit me before going to those losers

ynusername: @/landonorris guess I just got a better offer 🤷🏻‍♀️

username33: i refuse to let these two tease us about a potential relationship for much longer

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liked by landonorris, ynusername and 3,504,102 others

carlossainz55: all warmed up and just waiting for the call if you need me @/realmadridfem

181,658 comments

username34: notice how he tags the womens team instead of the men?? 🤔

charles_leclerc: can guarantee you would end up pulling your hamstring after the first five minutes my friend

username35: yn and carlos in central midfield is a dream team waiting to happen

ynusername: there’s a nice spot on the subs bench with your name on it!

carlossainz55: @/ynusername hey im starting 11 material surely 😓

username36: i saw carlos at the game today, he went crazy whenever yn got the ball 💞💞

landonorris: I’d pay a lot of money to see you try and play football with the professionals 😂

carlossainz55: @/landonorris why do you bully me all the time?? 🤦🏻‍♂️

username37: he definitely went to be cheerleader for yn rather than the whole team

alex_albon: how many takes before you were happy with that photo???

username38: I love how much they support each other it’s adorable 😭

danielricciardo: you look like the worst fifabot in the world 😂

username39: now this is a couple I can see seriously get behind!! 💕

username40: is it okay to already be obsessed with these two even though we don’t know they’re acc together yet?? 🤔🤔

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liked by matildas, carlossainz55 and 492,192 others

ynusername: 50 caps for this great country, it’s always the biggest honour 💚💛

49,281 comments

username41: what would the national team do without you?? 🤔

carlossainz55: congratulations, such an incredible achievement ❤️

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 tysm for flying out and cheering me on ❤️

username42: won't be long before you get to 100 caps yk

username43: we're so proud of you yn!! congratulations!! 👏🏻

samanthakerr20: so proud to stand right by your side tonight and watch you reach this milestone

username44: was it ever in doubt? the best to ever do it 🥺🥺

charles_leclerc: that was awesome to watch…I hate how you’re turning me into a football fan 😂

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc told you I’d change your mind!!

username45: the matildas are the luckiest team in the world to have you

caitlinfoord: if i had it my way you'd have thousands of caps by now

ynusername: @/caitlinfoord not really sure that's how football works 😂

username46: i could sit and watch you play football forever

mackenziearnold: best. team. mate. ever.

username47: thank you for being such an amazing part of the team, we'd be lost without you in that midfield

matildas: congratulations yn, heres to the next 50 💚💛

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liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 3,694,702 others

carlossainz55: a well deserved break for the both of us ☀️💕🌴

283,102 comments

username48: this is everything that i've ever wanted to see and more

alex_albon: still offended that you didn’t invite me on this trip 😭

username49: i cannot begin to tell you how happy i am for you both 🤯🤯

stephcatley: omg i could not be happier to see you two together

ynusername: thank you for such an amazing trip, you're the best 💕💕

carlossainz55: @/ynusername you deserve the world and more

username50: now please continue to spam us with adorable pics

alexandrasaintmleux: so pleased to see you guys had such a good time 🎉🌴

username51: thank you for bringing the soft launch to an end, welcome hard launch!!

landonorris: shall i vacate the role of boyfriend now or later??

carlossainz55: @/landonorris i'll show you the door 🚪

username52: a match made in heaven if you ask me

username53: i'm not even in this relationship and i feel emotional

charles_leclerc: thank goodness, don't think i could keep the secret for much longer 😅

username54: everyone say thank you real madrid for introducing these two to one another 🤍⚽️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carlossainz55, elliecarpenterr and 593,604 others

ynusername: three of my favourite things, football, boyfriend and all the coffee ⚽️❤️☕️

59,201 comments

username55: yn it's not fair of you to melt my heart like this 😭

oscarpiastri: now the coffee I can get behind ☕️

landonorris: you’re forgetting the part where you mention your boyfriend’s best friend???

username56: look at their faces, they look so in love together!!

caitlinfoord: can you stop being so annoyingly cute please and thank you

carlossainz55: i better be number one out of those three things 🥺

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 the top spot is yours forever 🫶🏻❤️

username57: you'll find me in the corner crying absolute tears of joy

danielricciardo: well this is a bit cute isn’t it 🤩🤩

username58: officially now my favourite couple in the whole entire world 🌍

username59: i don't think i'll ever see enough posts from these two

charles_leclerc: presuming from this that football tops carlos 🤭

username60: cannot wait to see these guys spend the rest of their lives together ngl 💞💞💞

maxverstappen1: btw carlos does not shut up about you 😂😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

436 notes · View notes

skzdarlings · 4 months ago

Text

bodyguard: the first guard | part four | chan/reader

masterlist.

(part one of the previous story.)

( read on AO3 )

A sequel to the Bodyguard. Miroh’s daughter is assigned a bodyguard of her own. The past is confronted when old friendships and new enemies are pushed to the brink.

pairing: bang chan/reader content info: sequel to the bodyguard (felix/reader). this is a new reader perspective. this chapter contains explicit sexual content. this chapter also has a content warning for descriptions of torture and dehumanization. the previously established story dynamics are prevalent. chapter word count: 14,600 words.

enjoy <3

B E F O R E

Felix is with the enemy. He let himself be taken.

Losing a fight was the only way to win. The enemy is well-fortified, his defences impenetrable, but offensive strikes are not a strength. The best of his men are no match for Felix, not their force or their taunting or threatening. They can torture him. They can hurt him. It is literal child’s play, every move a textbook manoeuvre from his childhood training.

After some prodding, coercion, and violence, someone decides to send word up the chain of command. It reaches the ear of the enemy, and now Felix is cuffed to a chair in some kind of warehouse, waiting to meet a monster.

The man finally strides into the room. He is average height, average build, with cold eyes but a dull demeanour.

Felix was hoping for a nightmare. Maybe that would have helped justify some of it. But the immense nothingness of the man is infuriating. This? Everything they did, everything Felix did, was because of this? Just another pathetic man hurting the weak with someone else’s hands.

The enemy stands above Felix and his shadow feels no different than Miroh.

That is how Felix rationalizes it, even with a roiling stomach as he sits beneath that man. A shadow will fall, one way or the other. His choice is no choice at all: two dark paths, neither with a light at the end.

Felix is not here to save himself. His mission is to save Chris. That is all that matters now.

“You work for Miroh,” the enemy says. “Or is that worked, if my men are to be believed?”

“That’s right,” Felix says. He sees the flicker of surprise in the enemy’s eyes. Felix’s voice has already dropped and its darker, deeper tone always surprises people. It counters his youth, his soft face, makes the enemy look twice and consider him more carefully.

Felix is everything Miroh wanted his soldiers to be. He is easy to misjudge, overlook, underestimate, but competent, deadly, and loyal to a single, unmoving cause.

Thinking of Chris, Felix says, “I know how to end this.”

His throat is dry, his voice rough. He drags it up, propelled by the pounding of his desperate heart.

“I know Miroh’s next move,” Felix says. “I know where he’ll be. I know what he’s planning. I know how to interfere. But we both know you’re the only one who can really do it.”

Flattery takes the enemy from wary to invested. He is so easy to read, more childish than Felix ever was. It is infuriating. It takes all his strength for Felix to grit his teeth and restrain himself, to not rip out of his bonds and destroy this shadow of a man.

But this is not about Felix.

“What is it you think you know?” the enemy asks.

Felix smiles, a soft, disarming smile, practiced from a lifetime of subterfuge. A lie on his face, but coupled with the truth. He thinks about everything he has done and everything he will do.

Felix says, “Everything.”

P R E S E N T D A Y

Two days ago, you were running missions for your father. You kept your head down and strove for the best, blindly believing your compliance would lead somewhere worthwhile. The ends would justify the means. You would prove yourself and everything would come together.

Now, your only plan is to tear it all apart.

Your father is dead. You are miles from the world he created, off the edge of every map he ever drew. You stare down a long, dark path with no seeming end.

You think of your friend and find the strength to place one foot in front of the other.

It is something you should have done a long time ago, but there is no time to linger in past feelings. Not the guilt of years ago, not the pain of a few days, and not the embarrassment of last night.

You lift your head as Chan approaches the park bench. Your first order of business was acquiring basic necessities, so you left the motel and ventured out. It required more than a little theft and cunning, but now you are both dressed in civilian clothes, better blending in with your surroundings.

Chan went to grab some food while you sat and mapped out a basic strategy. He has followed your lead in every regard, including conversation. You have not spoken a word about last night so neither has he, but it sits between you like a tangible block. Your eyes meet and speak without the help of words. Who are you? you seem to ask each other, and neither has an answer.

Miroh’s first guard. You think of him in the ring. You imagine him in even darker shadows. It is impossible to reconcile that soldier with the man who comforted you, who tucked you into bed, who sat with you until you fell asleep.

Miroh’s daughter. It is just as impossible to reconcile the soldier you were with the woman who not only broken down crying, but let someone comfort her with so much tenderness.

You look at each other, a flash of something between you, then you clear your throat and look away and hope it disappears.

Chan sits beside you on the bench. He hands you a sandwich.

“What next?” he asks, then takes a bite of his own.

You are both in blue jeans and flannels, baseball caps tugged over your eyes. You keep to a quiet space in the park, but there are still civilians nearby. You watch some kids throw a ball around. You don’t have much of an appetite, but your body needs sustenance if you want to heal properly. Much as you would prefer to dive into the mission, ignoring your own wellbeing, an unbalanced fight will not save Changbin.

You take a bite of your sandwich and pass the notebook to Chan.

“I’ve made a list of the main research facilities,” you say. “My father implied Changbin would be used for study so I don’t think he’s being held at any training base. I’ve ranked the research facilities in order of likelihood based on their location and general field of focus.”

Chan nods, looking over the list. You stare at him while he reads.

You need to say something. Each bite of food is excruciating because it is fighting the pit in your stomach. You are a tangle of embarrassment, confusion, and unfamiliar emotions you cannot name. Finding the right words is physically painful.

You rub the bridge of your nose and steady your breathing. Chan looks at you with an inquisitive tilt of his head, but he looks away when your eyes meet.

“I’m sorry,” you say. Despite your preparation, it is more of a blurt. “For last night, I mean.”

You cringe thinking about it, but addressing it finally alleviates the weight in your gut. You fiddle with the wrapping to your sandwich, staring at the ground and pointedly not at him.

“It’s not like me,” you say. “The past couple days, it’s just…”

“It’s fine,” Chan says. When you scoff, he bumps his shoulder against yours. “Seriously, you don’t have to apologize. Can’t really blame you, ya know, considering everything.”

“I’ve dealt with some crazy fucking circumstances,” you say. “And I’ve never…” Mortification settles as you recall last night, which drudges up all those feelings again. It twists together inside you. You put the sandwich down and rub your eyes. “I just don’t feel like myself at all.” It is a resigned admittance, sitting at the crux of everything. You are lost without your father’s map, even though you know it is better off burned. “I just don’t know how everything used to feel so easy. It’s like I’m a stranger and the whole world is just as foreign. My father drew a perfect map of his world and now I’m way off the grid.”

“Maybe it’s time to draw a new one,” Chan says.

You look at each other. You are both hunched over, elbows on your knees, bodies inclined just barely towards each other where your knees almost touch. His face is bare and yours is scarred, his tone sincere and voice as raw as yours.

The dark path ahead seems a little less daunting.

There is one more thing you have to say, and this one is even harder, mixed up with embarrassment.

Sheepishly, you say, “Also, uh… thank you. For what you did last night.”

Chan laughs, just a breath of a sound, and there is some colour in his cheeks. He deflects the gratitude with more awkwardness than the apology, stammering on some vague denial.

“Nah, nah, it’s fine, you know,” he says, then says it a dozen more times.

If crying was a break from your usual character, the little grin on your face is even more alien. But it’s there, admittedly amused as you watch the most lethal weapon in Miroh’s arsenal stumble over his words. His hair is over his ears, his hat over that, but you can see where they start to darken with a blush. You had no idea the First Guard could go so red. Maybe that’s why he has to wear a mask, you think to yourself, tickled.

But now is not the time for teasing. You bump his knee with your own then pick up your sandwich. Your appetite has returned, little by little, the worst of that pit closing.

“Yeah, just… think nothing of it,” he says.

“I’ll try,” you say, cringing.

He pats your knee consolingly, then he smiles, light-hearted, looking at you with a goofy wink. “Next time it’ll be me and you can help me out,” he says. “Then we’ll be even.”

He goes back to eating his sandwich, his attention straying to the kids and their ball game. You look at him a moment longer.

If it had been him who broke down last night, you are not sure what you would have done. But he voices such an honest belief that you would return the favour, so you cannot help but believe he might be right.

The day is spent driving. You steal a different vehicle, losing the last traceable item from the fallen facility. You replace it with something a little faster and more efficient on the road.

Once you are in the car, the conversation stays professional. Today you plan to scout the perimeter of the targeted facility on foot. It should have a secondary security outpost that will be easier to breach, at least with your skills and inside knowledge.

Chan will cover most of the physicality as he insists you need another day of recuperation before launching a proper attack. You begrudgingly admit he is right, even though you want to charge the facility to second it is in sight.

Changbin could be in there right now, separated from you by cement walls and nothing more. You look at the building as you circle it. Your heart pounds, leaping as if magnetized to your friend’s potential proximity. It makes you want to leap the wall and fight everything in your path.

Like he knows what you’re thinking, Chan nudges you. He tips his head, gesturing to the direction you need to go. You huff but follow. This is your plan and you made it for a reason.

You reach the security outpost. After Chan incapacitates the guards, you will have sparse minutes for action and acquisition.

Chan lays down the unconscious guards while you gather your intel. You know where to look, unlike an enemy or third party, so you can use the short allotted time to your advantage.

You see there were deliveries made over the past couple days, but it is unclear what they entailed. It could be anything from equipment to a body. You save the information and run through the security logs so you can strategize a full-proof infiltration plan for tomorrow night.

While you work, Chan embarks on his own search, finding a few weapons and packing them in a duffel bag.

He claps you on the shoulder with less than a minute to spare. You take your hard drive and notes, he takes his bag and guns, and you are out the door.

Back in the car, he sits in the passenger seat, assembling a gun while you drive. Your eyes are on the road but your mind is in the mission, running schematics and floor plans and security details.

Your mind jumps frantically from one thought to the next. Thinking of security logs reminds you of the information you obtained about the enemy. You told Changbin about it a couple nights ago, but it lost importance in the midst of all your personal drama. Now your mind returns there.

Miroh’s team acquired the security information from the house that night, but they overlooked the most glaringly obvious discrepancy. They were so preoccupied with the system itself that they did not notice how much of it had been scrubbed by someone who knew what they were doing, someone who had a reason to hide what transpired.

Maybe it means nothing. Maybe it means everything.

“What’s up?” Chan says, noticing you are deep in thought.

You glance at him, shaking your head as you return to the present. You have your hands full with dismantling Miroh’s regime that the dead enemy should not really matter anymore, but it will not leave your head. The weirdness of that whole situation sits in the nucleus of everything else. The enemy’s collapse sent your father spiralling, his fears driving him straight into a self-fulfilling prophecy of destruction. In a way, you are only here because of what happened that night.

“Just thinking,” you say, struggling to summarize the tumult of thought.

“About?” he prompts when you stall. He lifts an eyebrow. “Something I can help with? Or like… something personal…?”

“Neither really,” you say. “It’s about my father’s enemy. You know my father had a lot of enemies, but… he had one that rivalled them all.”

“I know who you mean,” he says. “I didn’t really run any missions involving him, because, you know, Miroh thought it was useless to waste my skills there. The enemy was pretty well-defended. Nothing got in or out.”

“Makes sense,” you reply. “The enemy was watched more than pursued. I actually ran a lot of those missions.”

You were with the enemy while Chan was everywhere else. It is why you never really crossed paths. You knew the outcomes of his missions because it often impacted lines of business, but you did not see him. He was a weapon at your father’s disposal, less than a human and more than a soldier.

“Yeah,” Chan says, echoing that thought. “Miroh thought I would be more useful… other places.”

You look at him again. He is looking out the window, his own gaze pensive. You do not push for more detail, knowing well enough how gory and intense some of his missions were. It makes you aware of who is in this car, the weapons at his feet, the gun in his lap.

You find you are not that frightened, which is frightening in its own way.

You look at him in his flannel and baseball cap. You think about him earlier, laughing as he watched some kids playing games in the park. You picture that face in the shadows, a gloved hand around a neck, a gun in his hand, the trigger practically a part of him. It makes your heart pang.

“Anyway, what about it?” Chan asks, looking at you.

“Never mind,” you say, discombobulated as you are inundated with images of Chan’s missions. You shake your head. “It’s probably nothing,” you add. “It doesn’t matter. They’re all dead anyway.”

There is a moment of silence, then he asks, “Did we ever find out what happened that night?” His voice is a little smaller, like the question weighs heavy on his tongue. Like he also knows this new world is spinning on the axis of everything destroyed that night.

“No,” you say. You grip the steering wheel a little tighter. “And the last person who had any contact with them is being held somewhere.”

“Changbin,” Chan says.

“Changbin,” you say.

Your mind runs away again, thinking about the way Changbin talked about that mission. Or rather, the things he did not talk about. He never officially reported the details of his altercation with Felix. He never reported the fact Felix asked about Chris.

As if he can hear your thoughts, Chan asks, “Felix is dead too, isn’t he?”

Lee Felix was raised in the young soldier program with the rest of you, but you don’t remember much of him from childhood, just one face among many. Then he betrayed the operation. Miroh was securing some contracts that the enemy was also eying, and Felix was assigned to a major mission that would procure the venture. You were not on that mission, but you later learned how it was infiltrated by the enemy, how Miroh was blindsided and attacked in a rare moment of weakness instigated by the same traitor who sold out their location in the first place.

Felix got away.

Several agents died in the confrontation. By that point, other child soldiers had died on other missions. Only a few of you remained. Chan, Changbin, you. Felix was recruited by the enemy. He became a grating sore in the operation’s side. Somehow, the enemy utilizing one of Miroh’s best soldiers as a glorified babysitter was more offensive than using him for military tactics. Even by doing nothing, your father’s enemy boasted over him. Look what I have and I don’t even need it, while you fight for everything.

That was how your father put it. He always looked at the offense, the wrong-doing, the betrayal.

He never saw anything else. Just like he never saw your friendship with Changbin.

You think Felix and Chan were also friends once, maybe, or something like it. Felix would have no way of knowing what became of Chan after he left. Maybe he cared. Maybe his motivations were more complicated than an opportunistic betrayal for the sake of itself.

You look at Chan. His body is holding a lot of tension, his fingers curling and uncurling over his knee. A muscle feathers in his jaw when he clenches it.

“Yes,” you say. “Felix died that night with the rest of them.”

Chan exhales. His whole face is shadowed with the furrow of his brow.

“I’m sure it wasn’t easy for him. We all made difficult decisions, I guess,” you say, thinking of how to approach this conversation because there is a darkness to Chan that feels more like the First Guard. “He, uh, he asked about you apparently.”

“About me,” Chris says flatly. “What about me?”

“About what happened to you,” you say. “I guess he wouldn’t have known what happened after he left. Changbin, uh, Changbin told him you died.”

Chan is quiet for a moment, just staring across the dashboard at the stretch of highway. The sun is starting to set behind the trees, casting an orange glow in the vehicle. It brightens his eyes even while his whole countenance seems to darken.

Then he laughs. It is abrupt and harsh with no genuine humour whatsoever. He rubs his jaw and shakes his head.

“I guess that’s one way of putting it, yeah?” he says dryly.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

“What for?”

“I don’t know, I guess it just—” You glance at him. He is still staring ahead, his shoulders locked with tension. “None of this is easy. I get it. You have every right to be upset.”

“Upset,” Chan says as if the word is totally foreign. It lingers in his mouth. He chews the thought over. The fierceness of his gaze reminds you of the guard that sits behind a mask – intense and dangerous.

“I guess I am upset,” he says slowly. “It means I don’t get to kill him myself.”

The response startles you. You anticipated this conversation taking a totally different trajectory.

Your glance flicks between the road and Chan. He goes back to fidgeting with the gun. His hand movements are firmer, more deliberate, the click-shuffle-click more pronounced.

It is a very unfortunate and wildly inappropriate time to find him attractive. The realization hits you all at once, leaving more whiplash than a hit to the head. You watch his quick and competent hands do what they do best. Coupled with his sudden intensity, it feels like a punch to your core.

You want to offer a remark, some acknowledgement of his thoughts, but it gets garbled in the mess of feelings. It is not like you to get so flustered. You are not used to it.

You clear your throat and look ahead. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him tilt his head.

“What?” he asks. “The guy’s a traitor, isn’t he?”

“It’s not that.”

“Huh? Then what is it?”

“Nothing,” you reply.

“Nothing? You have a weird look on your face.”

“No, I don’t.”

The First Guard, Miroh’s weapon, assassin and spy and deadly agent, reaches across the console and pokes your cheek.

“Stop that,” you say. “I’m fine.”

He laughs and this laugh is sincere. You try to school your expression but the damage is evidently done because he is clearly aware he has you flustered.

You bat his hand away. Even worse than finding him physically attractive, you are a little enamoured with the sound of his laugh. It feels much better than the tension from before. You feel your own chest lifting with a clear breath.

“Just thinking about yesterday,” you lie, but now you are thinking about yesterday and how you abruptly kissed him, which makes you more flustered and makes his dimples more pronounced. Refusing to look at him, you tightly grip the wheel and say, “Sorry, by the way.”

“For?” He sounds amused.

“Kissing you.”

“Ah.” He pokes your cheek again, dodging your hand. “I thought I told you to stop apologizing to me.”

“That’s different,” you say. “Especially after everything else you told me.”

Chan has spent most of his life in the forced employ of someone else, using his body to one end or another. He told you as much last night. In light of that, spontaneously kissing him without warning feels wrong, even if you were panicked and not thinking.

He goes quiet. After a beat, he says, “I didn’t tell you that so you would pity me.”

“Well, why did you then?” you ask. You can admit you were forward last night because that is just how you are. Sexual desire is just another bodily function that needs satisfying. He was the one who continued the conversation after it ended.

“Well,” he says. “I trust you.”

“Right.” The honest simplicity just flusters you more. “Good to know.”

The car is very silent after that. Or maybe the rest of the world gets louder – the cars whizzing down the highway, the wind against the glass. Even the sun seems to fizzle in the darkening sky.

You swear you can hear his heart beating, fast, or maybe that is your own.

“It’s fine,” he breaks the long silence.

“Huh?”

You glance at him which is a mistake, because he turns his head to you, his dimples deep with the cheekiness of his smile.

“it’s fine that you kissed me,” he says.

People have outright propositioned you for explicit sexual acts and none of those come-ons ever garnered half as much heat as that simple, stupid line.

You bat it down instinctively, swallowing hard. His earlier intensity sparked your adrenaline and your body confused it for something else. That must be it. You don’t get flustered and heated like this, not so fast and not so deeply.

“Well,” you say firmly. “Don’t worry because it won’t happen again.”

“Oh?” he asks, still too amused.

Desperate to even the playing field and knock those dimples down, you grin and employ your own simple frankness.

“Tell you what,” you say. “You can fuck me all you want, but no kissing. How’s that sound?”

It works. He chokes on a nervous laugh and turns completely red. He looks away while rubbing his neck and it’s your turn to laugh.

The sound of your own laughter surprises you, the adrenaline in your chest suffusing to something gentler. For a moment, in the middle of all the anxiety and worry and terror, you feel a flicker of delight.

When you look at him, your eyes meet in a shared moment of mirth, that setting golden light flooding the car. It feels strange to smile so sincerely, but it does not feel wrong. It feels like a moment you did not realize you had been waiting for.

None of the safe houses are safe. Miroh is dead but his operation is running in fragmented pieces, so there are eyes on those houses. You stick with cheap motels for now, the little crevices and unassuming places forgotten by the passing world.

Chan lifted some money from a register at a closed service station, so you use that cash to pay for a room. It makes you think about crime, petty and big, about Miroh and his enemies, soldiers and civilians. About the ends justifying the means, and what taking down Miroh’s operation will entail.

“Ready for another fight?” you ask. You and Chan are sitting at the small table in the little kitchenette, drafting plans for tomorrow’s night infiltration.

“Always,” he says with a sigh, but smiles at you.

You take the first shower tonight. You feel better and your reinvigorated energy makes you even more restless. It feels like a waste of time, sitting here while Changbin is out there, but you know you will be in better shape tomorrow when all your plans can come together.

For now, you prepare your own weapons and combat clothes, laying everything out while Chan showers.

Your eyes lift when he emerges from the washroom, strolling into the room with nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips.

You stare at him because of course you do, and he looks at you with a raised eyebrow because of course he does. That cheeky smile returns and he says, “What?”

“Nothing,” you reply, frowning, looking back at your things. “Just restless.”

“You should do some push-ups,” he says.

Ugh, this guy, you think, looking up at him again. His back is to you as he stands over his bag, shifting around for some clean clothes. A snarky reply is on your tongue but then he drops his towel, silencing you as swiftly. You blink in surprise at his bare backside then look away, hot in the face.

“You know what,” you say. “Maybe I will do some push-ups.”

He chuckles and continues dressing himself while you go through a small exercise routine to expel your excess energy. It honestly works and it feels good to get some muscles moving again.

You are not totally invulnerable, but the hormone supplements administered in your childhood ensure that your healing is a little quicker than average. The worst of the pain will pass so you can fight without distraction tomorrow night. The only thing that will remain will be the scars.

You sit at the foot of your bed and touch the scar on your palm. You wonder if Changbin is sitting somewhere, touching his own scar, and you wonder if he thinks it was worth it – all of it, his whole life, offering it up to save you.

“All good?” Chan asks, a little more seriously. He is closer than you realized, standing near the bed.

You nod, closing your hand into a fist. “Yeah,” you say. “We just… We have to find him.”

You can feel yourself drifting, thoughts taking over. You stare down at the ground.

Chan touches your shoulder, just enough to draw you out of that reverie before you sink too far. You look up slowly. The back of his fingers brush your cheek before he drops his hand to his side. It feels like he touched you with a firework, a trail of heat sparkling along your cheek. You dig your nails into your palm because you do not feel like you should indulge that sort of feeling while Changbin is hurting for you.

“I know,” Chan says. “We will. But he wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself or give yourself up, would he?”

You stop clenching. You release a breath you did not realize you were holding.

“Yeah,” you say softly. “Sorry. You’re right.”

You blink quickly, surprised when knocks his knuckles under your chin, a teasing little touch.

“Told you to stop apologizing,” he says, then winks and steps away.

Your dreams that night are tumultuous but not as torturous. You don’t sleep as heavily so it is easier to snap out of them.

Chan is a light sleeper and the sound of you jolting awake stirs him as well. You apologize after a few times, his groggy voice sleepily assuring you that it’s fine. That rough sound scratches your brain, tingling down your spine as you close your eyes to sleep again.

You dream of a different touch, no violence or pain, just fingers trailing softly across your cheek. Your eyes are closed but you can feel it, a lightning spark ignited under the stroke of those fingers. You tilt your face up and take in a deep breath. It fills your whole body with warmth, makes your heart race and skin heat. The touch curls under your chin and you follow where that hand guides you, eyes closed and mouth open.

Your breath is stolen by a kiss. You know this is a dream because real kisses never feel this way. They are just a touch, no different than any other.

This touch is different. It overwhelms with its gentleness, a caress more thorough and claiming than every rough kiss exchanged in a heated moment that inevitably cooled. This one does not cool, does not even simmer, but burns hotly, endlessly. Even when your lips part for air, heat lingers between you. Your fingers twitch, coming to life with the desire to touch.

You wake before that.

It is still night. You glance at the clock then across the room. Chan’s bed is empty and it startles you, snapping you from half-conscious to fully awake. You sit up in bed. The panicked race of your heart putters to a slower cadence when you see him. He is sitting at the table in the kitchenette, near the open window. The neon light from the motel’s NO VACANCY sign bathes him in a cascade of red.

“All good?” Chan asks.

“Yeah,” you say. “I just—” You look at the empty bed then at him.

“Sorry,” he says, sheepish. “Couldn’t sleep. When that happens, feels better to just look at the plans, you know?”

You nod. You understand completely.

“More bad dreams?” he asks.

“Sometimes it feels like a memory,” you say, thinking of every nightmare, then thinking of your dream. There was no reality in that fantasy, but you swear your cheek still tingles. Embarrassed, you lay back down and turn away. You stare at the wall.

To your horror, you find yourself blinking back tears. The night is clearly not your friend, overwhelming you with every thought and fear and memory, every emotion you do not know you were capable of feeling.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Chan says. “I promise. You can sleep.”

“Okay,” you say softly.

I trust you, he said with so much earnest simplicity. It is hard, but you return the sentiment and close your eyes.

The next night is a very different scenario. There is no opportunity for good or bad dreams, for quiet phrases and glances that you would not dare exchange in the light.

You and Chan spent the day in preparation, practiced some moves, pored over your plans. Your adrenaline builds and builds. By nightfall, you are bursting with a desire for action.

The night does not feel quiet or still, the very air around you vibrating with the shuddering power of your determination.

“Careful in there,” Chan says.

You look at him. He is not wearing the mask, not yet, but he is the soldier you first encountered. Earlier, you watched as he slicked back his hair and darkened his eyes as part of his preparation, turning himself into a strange, intimidating figure. His transformation is so all-encompassing, your heart palpitates with nerves whenever you meet his eye.

“This is gonna be a shitshow when we start taking it apart,” he continues. “After we find him, when we start hitting marks and tripping lines, it’s gonna be fast.”

First you will look for Changbin, then you will go after everything else in that facility. Wiping data, disabling networks, making the entire operation unusable. You know some agents will move onto the next one, but you’ll follow. You will follow all of your father’s work and you won’t stop until you have destroyed it all. If it means tearing out one brick at a time, that is what you will do.

You tug at a clasp to ensure your armaments are locked in place. Chan secures his mask. You nod at each other, then you advance.

It becomes abundantly obvious very quickly that this facility does not have active test subjects, just data and back-logged research storage. The deliveries were mostly data transfers and hard copies of research for ongoing trials.

That means Changbin is definitely not in this building, but you try to keep your energy up. While Changbin is not here, there should be information about his actual whereabouts. The fight is not over. Far from it.

“I’ll be across the hall,” Chan says. “Radio if something trips. We won’t have long.”

The literal fight is only half the work and not more the prevalent half. You and Chan take a system each and spend most of the night looking through files. You would rather punch something, your adrenaline still so keyed, but you put it in reserve for now.

You move and erase certain files, sifting for relevant information and finding none.

You snap upright when a related subject finally appears. You lean closer to the screen. This entire folder seems dedicated to human test subjects. The fact the folder is so big already has you nauseated. Then again, you are not surprised. You were one of those subjects, living proof of a military experiment.

You cannot find anything about the special-ops program in this folder. That means no data on Changbin, past or present. Instead, it looks like years and years of logs tracking a single experiment.

TEST SUBJECT I : SOLDIERING RECONFIGURATION

You see the word soldier and click.

No. This is definitely not Changbin or the special-ops program. You read and realize this particular experiment was something else entirely.

You look at the date. This began a long time ago. There are long memos and notes about ‘reconfiguring’ mental processes, utilizing the brain’s trauma to suppress memory through torture.

You have seen a lot of dark things, but nothing like this. Your stomach turns over itself, balking at the horror, the detailed descriptions of severe electro-shock and drowning, of starvation and long isolation.

Subject is presented with an unchanging control from which comparison can be made.

Subject recognizes control after one round of treatment.

This is worse than a fight. A fight you can control through retaliation. This, you just have to endure, your heart pounding as evocative images of dehumanization unfold before you.

They tortured someone into forgetting everything. Turned them into the perfect soldier.

Eleventh round of treatment – some effect is beginning to take. Not a recommended course of action on regular humans. Hormonal-supplement medicine improved durability.

Subject will need to be brought in on a semi-regular basis to maintain stasis.

There is a long list of all the dates and times the so-called subject was brought in. It spans years, all the way up until recently. A session was schedule two weeks ago but it was not completed.

You sit back, the white screen blaring in your face, your stomach a sickly iron weight.

Chan.

The subject is completely, irrevocably Bang Chan. You wish it wasn’t true but you know, deep down, it undoubtedly is.

The incomplete session must account for his recent behaviour. If he was not brought in for a reconfiguration within the allotted time, that might explain his deviation from expectation, his raw humanity and his spontaneous decision to join you.

It is unbearable, imagining all that torture.

He was just a boy.

Your throat cloys, feeling tight with suffocation as you imagine the darkness of a narrow well and cold water closing in around you. You close the file then look away from the screen, the shadowed room even darker after ripping your gaze away from the light. You feel that darkness tighten around you. You close your eyes, shake your head.

Though you never imagined the details, you knew Miroh did something awful to make a boy a thing. Especially that boy. For as long as you can remember, gossip about the First Guard has been whispered in every corner of the operation. Those who knew a young Bang Christopher Chan talked about the overnight change. One day he was a rebellious child, throwing tantrums in front of Miroh himself, and the next day he was complying with the worst of orders in his name.

Some people joked it was all about the bloodlust, that Chan was inherently built to be violent, steeped and raised in it. They said it came naturally to him, that he was just waiting for an opportunity to be that vicious.

You know better. You have seen glimpses of the man who spent years in Miroh’s mask, and that man has nothing in common with the First Guard. That soldier, the agent with the highest clearest level missions, with the most destruction in his wake, is not Chan. Whoever Bang Chan really is, it is not the monster that Miroh made him.

“You’ll wanna see this.”

Chan’s voice breaks the silence. You jump out of your skin with a horrible hiss, startling him in return.

“Whoa,” he says. “What is it?”

You do not hide your expression fast enough. He quickly ducks down to look in your face, those dark eyes intensely focussed. He asks something through the mask – what’s wrong, you think – but it sounds foggy and faraway. Your eyes are locked on his. The rest of the world falls away.

You reach for him without conscious thought. It is the instinctive search for a hand in the dark, a desperate grasp shooting across cold water for a lifeline.

He blinks quickly, surprised when you touch his face with both hands. He stiffens but does not stop you from removing his mask. Only when his face is clear do you come back to yourself.

Sorry forms on your lips, but you remember he said to stop apologizing. Besides, your voice is shot even though you have been sitting in silence.

You place the mask on the desk and shake your head.

Chan looks at you, then his gaze flicks to the empty screen and back.

“What is it?” he asks again, softer this time. “What did you find?”

The document mentioned the subject had a resistance to abrupt reminders. Too much sudden information could trigger the trauma response. It is better to ease the subject into slow recollection.

“Nothing,” you say. Your voice comes out rough so you clear your throat. “It’s nothing important. Just – Miroh. Some dark stuff. You know.”

He scrutinizes you for another second. His hand hovers like he might touch you, but he eventually curls his fingers and drops it.

“Okay,” he says, wary.

“What did you find?” you ask, because he burst in here with an exclamation.

He smiles. It is not a huge smile, but it looks like Chan peeking through the soldier’s mask – the one he wears even when the literal mask has fallen. It puts you at ease.

“I found him,” Chan says.

Your heart skips a beat as you are reminded of your real mission. You eagerly take the papers that Chan offers.

“Not literally, of course,” Chan says. “But look—”

The document explicitly names Seo Changbin, with the correct description of his medical history and occupation in the Miroh’s order. It doesn’t say where he is behind held, just that he has been relocated from the main base. It says he must be kept under more intense security than the main research facility can provide.

It also provides a detailed schedule for the work and tests that have been administered so far – blood samples, urine samples, even skin samples – and it states that he will be kept for more tests and evaluations. He is to be held for two weeks before more intensive studies can be conducted. It is imperative that he does not weaken or die, as he is the only viable study subject.

A massive weight lifts off your shoulders. Changbin is not here but he is alive and unharmed. It seems they are keeping him in a state of mellowed sedation and do not want to move him around.

Though you do not know where he is precisely, you know he is stationary. He is probably not too far from this one if they were concerned about security in relocation.

“We got him,” you say. Your brain is already racing ahead, narrowing down the most likely bases and what infiltration will entail. You look at Chan and your smile returns, brightening with the light in your chest. “We can actually do this,” you say. Until now, you believed it because you had to believe it, because you stubbornly refused any alternative.

But Changbin is alive. You can rescue him.

You can also eliminate a lot of other bad things while you do it.

“We still have work here,” you say.

“You’re not wrong,” Chan says, grinning. “Found some files with some political figures who probably… definitely… don’t want their affiliation getting out.”

That blatant rebellious streak fills you with even more hope.

You get to work. In the end, some alarms are tripped and you are not out before security arrives.

“You ready for that fight?” Chan asks, already drawing a weapon.

“Always,” you reply.

You fight together. You think of all that detailed violence and you funnel it into something good. You were made to fight and it does not scare you, not when it’s like this. You are far more scared of not fighting back. You will never sit back again.

You and Chan have a complimentary fight style. You were both raised in the same program, so that makes sense, but there are instinctive openings you fill, a swift understanding that does not need words. Like your eyes meeting across a park bench, you connect on another level. It is like you have fought together a million times before.

When you are done, Chan takes a turn at the wheel. The windows are rolled down and you have a few shiny new scars, but you feel good, hopeful, free. You see a light at the end of the darkness. You are not scared of the fight to get there.

Your adrenaline is still pumping when you get back to the motel. The dawn is entering twilight, streaks of light slashing across the dark sky. It is swallowed up by rainclouds but the promise of daylight persists despite the gloom. You feel like you could wrestle the sun itself, no power too great.

You also know you are running on fumes of a long, adrenaline-fueled night. You are definitely going to crash, especially when several nights of bad sleep catch up to you. But first you need to come down from that high, blood still pumping a mile a minute.

Chan exhales, clearly just as keyed. He shakes out his shoulders and stretches his neck this way and that. He sits on a chair to unlace his boots. He looks down as he says, “You can have the first shower.”

You look at him. Against all odds, you are both here, rebelling against everything that was engrained in you. You can appreciate that more now that you have some relief regarding the mission.

Despite the effort to control and change you, you made it to this place together. You are free. Your lives are yours for the first time.

You open the top few clasps of your combat shirt.

“We’re both pretty messy,” you say.

He drops one of his boots with a clunk then starts on the next one.

“Yeah,” he says, laughing. “That’s fine, though. Just be quick.”

He discards the other boot and lifts his head. His gaze looks even more intense with the dark lines traced around his brown eyes. A single curl escapes his smoothed back hair, curling in an endearing tuft over his forehead. He is still breathing a little hard, his combat shirt also unclasped, the skin of his neck sweaty.

When those dark eyes collide with yours, your thundering heart pounds faster. His gaze briefly, thoughtlessly, flicks down your body then back up. Heat thunders through you and it has nothing to do with a fight.

He sits straighter, holding your gaze in his.

“Hey,” he says softly. “What’s up?”

“I know I asked before, and I know I said it jokingly,” you say. “But I think we understand each other better now. I’m not asking or demanding anything. I’m just letting you know. I think sex is a good way to expend energy. I think the fast pleasure is good for the brain as much as the body. It’s like exercise. I know we both have complicated pasts but I’m okay with that. With me. With you. I don’t care about the past and I’m not looking for a future. If you’re interested in right now, so am I.”

You push open the bathroom door. His eyes are rivetted to you but his expression is unreadable.

You undo another clasp and shrug.

“You know where to find me,” you say, then step into the bathroom.

You are not sure what to expect from him. You cannot even anticipate your own reactions. You are startled by the erratic pounding of your heart and the nervous twist in your gut. You chalk it up to the crazy evening, to the even crazier week. It is another reason to seek release, to ground yourself in your body and forget about everything else.

You strip down, leaving the sweaty and bloody clothes in a heap. The hot water is a balm. You close your eyes, letting the simple pleasure wash over you.

You rub a sore shoulder. The muscle loosens under the heat of the water. Your hand wanders, fingertips skimming your arm.

You seldom picture a particular person when you touch yourself, hardly caring about the identity of your partner even when they are in front of you, but you cannot escape the vision of a dark pair of eyes.

Your breath catches. Your head tips back. Your hand wanders across the curve of your chest, palm across each sensitive peak, sending pleasant sparks shooting downward. Your hand follows that path, stopping just short of its destination when the door opens.

You look over your shoulder. The glass door has not fogged much so you see Chan in the doorway. He looks as dishevelled as you left him. Those dark eyes are slow in their wandering perusal down your body. It feels like fireworks again, sparking everywhere he looks.

You turn a little more. He looks up. His brow furrows like he is scrutinizing you, like maybe he doesn’t believe you. You suppose you cannot blame him. It is a forward offer to any man, never mind one who is probably unaccustomed to them. A proposition he can accept or decline of his own free will, pleasure without contracts or compromises. No wonder he looks wary, like you are going to disappear if he steps wrong.

“Well?” you say, because you are not going anywhere. “Are you just going to stand there?”

He answers with a step. He closes the door behind him. Your eyes never leave each other, locked as he swiftly undoes his shirt and peels it off. The undershirt follows, tugged over his head, messing some of his hair. Then your gaze finally drops, an intimate heat rushing inside you as you look down his body. A sheen of sweat covers most of his torso, several prominent scars cutting through an otherwise perfect body. His muscles are even more prominent, strained from fighting.

You are already thinking of all the places you want to put your mouth when he strips off his bottom layers. For a man who was so lost in contemplation, he has no uncertainty now, striding up to where you wait.

You face him fully as he steps into the shower. The glass door closes. It finally fogs with your combined heat.

His presence overwhelms this small space, much like it did that first little civilian car. It feels like he is everywhere. Your eyes move all over his body, your breath coming faster. He pushes a hand through his hair and you look up, breath catching when you meet his eyes.

“No past,” you say, practically gasping. “No future. Just now.”

“Just now,” he says.

You are so close together and so far apart, a breath away but not touching. You are uncharacteristically hesitant.

He is the one who closes the space, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger. You feel that small touch everywhere, shuddering despite the hot water slipping down your body.

He leans towards you.

Your heart leaps right out of your chest. You turn your face at the last second and try to sound playful when you say, “No kissing remember?”

It was supposed to be a joke but you cling to it. It must be the danger or adrenaline, maybe the heat or his eyes, but kissing feels far too intimate. The rest is just exercise. You tell yourself that.

“You don’t like kissing?” he asks with a raised eyebrow. “What do you like?”

“Bet you can’t guess,” you tease. Banter is better than intimate gazing. You want release, not more tension.

“Hm,” Chan says.

He cups the back of your neck before weaving his hand through your hair, swift, smooth, smiling. He tugs and your head follows, the line of your throat exposed and a mewl of a sound escaping.

“Lucky guess,” you say, clearing your throat after that embarrassing sound.

But then you make another one. Those competent fingers find the curve of your breast and he wastes no time utterly tormenting the sensitive peak. You have always been extra sensitive there, though you seldom take the time to linger, usually rushing to the next best thing. You almost forgot how intense it feels, your whole body puppeted by the bolt of pleasure in his control.

“Lucky guess,” he says, tugging your head back when you start to curl up. “You like that?” he asks. He takes your whimper for a reply, pinching a nipple meanly before sliding his hand down your body. You rear up, eager as his fingers dip between your legs. “And that?”

This time, your body answers for itself when he finds how wet you are. You make an undignified squeak when your back touches the cold wall, the hot water cascading down his back. He lets go of your hair and plants a hand above your head, his whole body crowding yours in a way that feels more protective than suffocating. You would usually be tempted to push him away, but your whole body opens up to him. You touch his chest and rock your hips, riding the deft strokes of his fingers.

“God, you’re so wet,” he murmurs, his face in your neck, his body against yours.

“Yes,” you say. You slide both hands down his chest, savour in his gasp when you find how hard he is. You take him in hand, both of you working the other into a frenzy. “Fuck me,” you say, your voice already a low mess. “Chan, please.”

The effect of his name is immediate. He grabs you by the hips and lifts you like it is easy. He pins you to the wall so there is no space between you anymore.

You string your arms around his neck, stroking your fingers across his back as he angles you.

He is strong and his movements are effortless, but his groaning betrays a deeper desperation.

“Fuck,” he says, his voice breaking in your ear. It makes you clench, getting tight around him as he pushes in. It makes you both gasp, open-mouthed and needy as your bodies come together. “Fuck. Oh, fuck, you feel so good. I’m not—”

He is barely coherent but you are in no position to judge, clinging to him with your eyes closed and mouth hanging open. He bottoms out and immediately starts fucking you with no reprieve.

“I’m not—” he says again. “It’s—it’s been so long—I—”

“It’s fine,” you say, voice straining. You hold the back of his head, your cheek against his, making all sorts of embarrassingly desperate sounds right into his ear. “It’s fine,” you say. “Just come. I have an implant. Want you to come like this.”

A couple days ago, he was chasing you through a building, lifting you off your feet and pinning you down in a very different way. His dark eyes felt inhuman, but now he is groaning and whimpering as he fucks you deep and steady, every snap of his hips as frantic as your racing heart. Your wet bodies are pressed together and he is all hot skin and sturdy muscle, human, real, living and breathing as much as you. They tried to make him into something that did not know how to want anything, but he wants you.

That repeats in your head until you start murmuring it, “Want you, want you, want you.”

He comes with a groan and a deep stroke. He holds you against the wall while the water continues to run down his back.

With a sigh, you descend from the high of pleasure. You breathe hard while he keeps you in place for a minute longer.

“Sorry,” he suddenly says, panting as he surfaces.

You wince with the separation, your knees shaking when he lowers you. You hold his arms, fingers clasped tightly around his veiny forearms as you stare at him. It takes a second for his word to register.

“Sorry?” you say on a breathless laugh. “For what?”

“That was, uh, fast,” he says, giggling that musical laugh, a very embarrassed sound.

You stroke your fingers up his bicep and across his shoulder, watch a shiver wrack his body even though he could not possibly be cold. You meet his eyes. They have not lost any hunger, devouring the sight of you. He wets his lips, drag his teeth across the bottom one, and you start to feel delirious from the heat and sensations.

“Trust me,” you say. “That was hot.”

His smile looks relieved. He bumps his forehead to yours, his hands loose around your hips. You rock towards him, encouraging the slow wander of his touch.

“I get it,” you say, breathy, your knees shaking as he cups a handful of your ass and squeezes, then drags his palm to up the centre of your back. “It, uh,” you stammer, eyes closing. “It’s been a long time for me too. A few months at least.” Your last liaison was well before the debacle with the enemy. It was a forgettable exchange.

You do not think you will forget tonight.

His hands curve around you like he is memorizing the shape of your body, the way your bare skin feels against his. You are close, so it is obvious when he bristles at your words.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he says, far too casually, avoiding your eye as he reaches around you for some body soap from the dispenser. He lathers his hands and touches you again, stroking his palm down your backside and around your waist.

It almost distracts you. Almost. You look at him at with squinting eyes, smiling a small smile.

“What?” you say again. “You sound a bit jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” he says, too defensively.

“Oh, really?” you say.

He cups some water in his hand and runs it over you. His eyes lift from his task to meet yours.

Maybe teasing was a mistake. A flash of something dangerous sparkles behind his smile.

“Really,” he says. He turns off the water with a flick of his wrist. “I have nothing to be jealous about.”

It should stop surprising you, but you yelp when he sweeps you into his arms. You hook your legs around his waist, your arms his neck, holding tight while he carries you to the bedroom.

You are wet and the air is cold, but then a mattress dips beneath you and a bundle of bedsheets surround you. He lays you out, deliberate and measured, very different from his slow tenderness the other night.

“Quick question,” he says. He runs both hands through his wet hair, pushing it back. You look up at where he stands, your eyes wandering every plane of his body.

“Yes?” you ask.

He grabs your ankles and drags you down the bed, all while dropping to his knees. When your legs are over his shoulders and his breath is soft between your legs, he asks, “Does this count as kissing?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer, his mouth interrupting any coherent thought of yours.

A part of you thinks you should conserve your energy, but then his tongue is swirling over you and nothing else matters. Your hands cover your breasts, touching yourself in time with him. You let yourself enjoy your own body and help him find his way back to his.

By the time you get to sleep, you are both thoroughly worn out. Chan falls asleep first for once, all but passing out beside you. You are sharing a bed because the other sheets are wet and used.

You look at him through sleepy eyes. You touch his cheek, amazed when you think of how much things changed in just a few days. If you were told a week ago that the First Guard would be in your bed like this, you would have laughed.

If someone tried to tell you he had dimples and warm eyes, that he would sigh your name like it was the breath that kept him living, you are not sure what you have said.

You drift into sleep. You see his face in your dreams, still peaceful and slumbering beside you until that dream becomes a nightmare. His eyes snap open. In this sleeping world, it is not the warm gaze you have come to know so well. An emotionless weapon stares back at you.

There is no time to fight before his hand is around your throat and all the air leaves your body.

You feel cold, unbelievably cold.

You hear a voice. It says, “Stop. Stop!” You swear it sounds like Chan.

Your vision blurs.

You blink, blink, blink. Your eyes open underwater. When you scream, it is suffused in the rushing cold, air bubbling past your lips and fading into darkness. You thrash to no avail, throwing your head back and closing your eyes.

They open again. There are wooden beams high, high above your head. You still can’t breathe, your chest heaving with desperation, and you can’t feel your body. Why can’t you feel anything?

“Hey, it’s me! I’m coming!” Your blurry gaze darts around for the voice. Grey smoke slithers around the wooden beams. It takes a long time for a face to emerge in the fog.

Changbin leans over you, younger, thinner, a cut on his head bleeding profusely.

“Go,” you say, because he’s hurt and he needs to go now or he will never escape. You want to tell him what’s coming, tell him he needs to run, but he shakes his head before you can.

“I’m not leaving here without you.”

The weight leaves your chest all at once. Air rushes into your lungs and fills you like a cloud. You feel as though you are flying. When you open your eyes, you are sitting on a park bench. You have never seen this park before, blossoming in green and gold with summertime sunshine. The edge of your periphery blurs, obscuring shapes and bodies into glowing phantoms. Only one face is clear.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” Changbin shouts. He runs across the field towards you. He is young, barely more than a child, but he curses like an old man when he reaches you.

“Fine, fine!” He throws his hands in the air. “You’re right, you’re faster. But I’m still stronger. Watch this, princess—”

He tackles you. You hear his laughter and your own, a youthful sound, twinkling with childish delight. You roll across the grass in a giggling frenzy.

The greenery darkens as you roll away. The park changes. When you look up, the trees are a mosaic of red and orange. Leaves drift on the autumn breeze.

“Do you ever think about what else you could do with your life?” Changbin asks.

You look at him. He is older, not a teenager but not fully grown. His face is still gawky with youth, his muscles growing in. He is staring up at the sky.

“No,” you hear yourself say.

He laughs but without much humour. His eyes close and he sighs, nodding.

“Ah, yeah,” he says. “I thought you might say that today.”

You turn your face to the trees as a leaf flutters towards you. It touches your forehead and sends a painful jolt rampaging through your body. You blink, blink, blink, up at the doctor and their syringe. They say you did well but you don’t feel well, your insides churning like every organ is folding itself inside out.

The doctor steps aside and you meet eyes with another child across the room. Changbin is holding his arm and rocking back and forth. He is the only one not crying.

You cross the room. It was brimming with screaming children but now it’s empty.

“It’s okay,” you hear your voice. You see your small hand reach out, touching Changbin on the forehead where he contorts with pain in his small cot. “You can cry,” you say. “I won’t tell anyone.”

In another blink, he is older, a teenager again, crying and curled up in his bunk.

“Changbin,” you hear yourself say.

“I’m fine,” he snaps.

“You’re not,” your voice says. “None of us are.” You see your hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re not alone. You’ve never been alone.”

“You’re going to get hurt. And then what?”

“Then I’ll get hurt,” you hear yourself reply, speaking with more certainty than you ever remember feeling. “You’re my friend, Changbin. I don’t mind if something happens to me. I don’t care if it hurts, because I won’t be doing it for Miroh. I’m doing it for you.”

You look down at his hand when he reaches for yours. When you look back up, he is grown, sitting on a windowsill in the moonlight with a small scar on his cheek.

“I didn’t bleed for Miroh,” he says.

You blink. The wooden beams are high above you, his bloodied face full of concern.

“I’m your soldier, not his.”

The weight slams back into your chest. All the air goes out of you. You are falling, endlessly falling, all the way down to where there is nothing but cold. The walls close around you. You feel the stone under your palm. You suck in a breath of cold air only to choke on water. There is a light above your head and voices, screaming. You twist and kick like a wild thing.

You get closer to the surface. You hear Chan say, “Stop, stop—”

Then you wake in your shared bed. His voice echoes in the waking world.

You realize that is because Chan is talking in his sleep. He keeps repeating, “Stop, stop.”

You shake off the last dredges of sleep. It is not easy, your heart still skipping beats from the rapid-fire scenes.

Chan is on his back, his chest rising and falling, fast asleep but clearly in the throes of a nightmare. You are not sure how to help. You chance a tentative touch, saying his name as you brush his shoulder.

He wakes with a start, his eyes flying open. You see the flicker of panic as he forgets where he is, still half-lost in his nightmare.

Chan is much faster than you. It takes only seconds for his instincts to commandeer control, then you are the one on your back and he is leaning over you. Fortunately, he does not swing his arms around like you. His manoeuvre gives him the advantage but he doesn’t hurt you, other than leaving you a little startled and winded.

“Chan,” you say. “It’s me. It’s fine. It was just a dream.”

He blinks away the vestiges of sleep. You see the moment he recognizes you, the tension that immediately leaves his shoulders.

You are surprised yet again when he abruptly drops his weight, practically smothering you as he cages you in his arms. You put your arms around him, patting his back until his breathing slows to a normal cadence.

He eventually rolls back over, but he hooks his arms around your middle and drags you close. A part of you wants to balk, scared this is too intimate, but your own heart settles in the quiet comfort of his embrace. You let yourself rest, falling asleep to the gentle rhythm of his breathing.

There are two nearby research facilities. It is a toss-up between the smaller, closer one or the bigger, farther one. You opt for the closer base, figuring a smaller facility would be easy to incapacitate quickly. You and Chan have knowledge about Miroh’s operation that no one in the world can match. You are the only ones who can do what you are doing, so they never see you coming.

You dismantle the base but Changbin is not there. The only place you see your friend is in your dreams, emerging from smoke and disappearing as fast, leaving you with his promises and your guilt.

It is so strange why your mind keeps summoning that same vision. It smashed through something in your mind, cracked it somehow, and now it can’t relinquish it.

It is strange what a stressed mind can conjure and invent. Even stranger is its inability to let go. These days, all your thoughts and feelings slip through your mind like water in a sieve, everything flowing too fast to catch despite the desperate cup of your hands. But that image and his voice returns again and again and again.

The only satisfaction you get is watching pieces of Miroh’s operation crumble. You watch the news, keep up with the business reports, and watch as a domino effect transpires thanks to your actions.

It does mean security is going to tighten at the remain bases, but you are ready.

You move on to the next facility, even more determined. For a moment, this seems like the place. You find other enemies and subject imprisoned in the lower level cells, but Changbin is not one of them.

Chan escorts the innocent captives out while you search the remainder of the facility. It is empty, an echoing steel chamber and little more. You want to shout his name but you already know the only answer will be the reverberation of your own voice.

You search every crevice, just in case.

Your attention is rapt until you run past a certain door. At first, you merely glance inside. When you see it is empty, you turn to continue.

It’s like a tether wraps around your mind. You slam to a halt, the squeak of your boots echoing in the corridor.

You turn back around. You step into the chamber.

Every hair on the back of your neck stands up. You swear, the temperature drops by a few degrees as you step further inside. If you didn’t know any better, you would almost believe it was haunted, not like in stories of decrepit mansions, but filled with empty figments still crying out in pain. The room is rife with an unsettling chill, dank as a tomb.

You walk slowly. You feel like the echo is louder here despite your careful steps. You look around. There is lots of wiring, lots of sockets. There are dusty shapes on the floor where things used to stand, types of furniture maybe, or machines.

There is a dip in the corner, what looks like a well. You approach it cautiously, craning your neck to peer down without getting too close. It is dry as bone but deep. You can’t see the bottom. Heights don’t usually bother you, but you feel suffocated with a cloying fear. Your feet tingle as you imagine falling. You know it must have a bottom but somehow you feel like it would never end.

You realize footsteps are approaching, fast down the corridor then slow as they enter the room. You put a hand on the gun at your hip, turning quickly.

It’s just Chan. You are about to speak, or at least try looking for works, but you are stricken by the look on his face. Even though he was fiery when you last saw him, he looks very gaunt, flushed pale as he looks around the room. He is not merely unsettled like you. He looks sick.

You immediately know where you are. This was the room they used to torture him.

“You know this place,” you say, not a question. You remember all those torture descriptions. They have haunted your nightmares, all those images so vivid that you imagined them happening to yourself. If it was horrifying just reading it, you can only imagine how he feels right now.

He nods. It takes a few tries to clear his throat. “Yes,” he says weakly. He looks between you and the well as if he half-expects it to grow teeth and attack you.

He shakes his head. He crosses the room in a sharp stride, so swift that it takes you back. He grabs your arm and yanks you towards him.

“Get away from there,” he says, his voice hard. “There’s nothing in here. We need to go. Now.”

You have no argument but he waits for no reply, practically dragging you out of the room. He leads you back into the corridor, taking huge strides. His grip tightens.

“Another second and that will hurt,” you say, more calm than you feel. His energy is so panicked that it bleeds into you.

He drops your arm quickly, snapping to realization. He flexes his gloved hand.

“Sorry,” he says. He turns on his heel with a swivel so fast that you collide. He catches your shoulders and holds them, looking at you without really seeing you, his stare so intense it bores right through you. “Sorry,” he says again. His voice is shaking when he says, “Fuck. I’m sorry. I just—”

“It’s fine,” you say, understanding how overwhelming that must have been. There are tears in his eyes but he rips away before you can look too closely.

“It’s fine,” he says, his voice hard again. “There’s no one else here. It’s time to go. This place…” He spares one last glance over your shoulder. “This place is over. It’s time to go.”

You leave together.

You take a day for recuperation while you plan you next move. Neither of you slept very well last night, but at least there were no nightmares. You take turns driving, occasionally sleeping in the passenger seat.

You reach the next motel at sunset. The room only has one bed which draws Chan to a halt. He blinks at it like he doesn’t understand, then his ears get red, then he looks at you.

A laugh bursts out of you. You try to contain it but it’s hopeless. Chan smiles then laughs too, shaking his head and rubbing his neck.

“Sorry,” you say. “Just – you don’t think it’s a little late to be blushing like that? Mister Does This Count As Kissing?”

“Wow,” Chan says, playfully throwing his hands up in surrender. “Sorry for being a gentleman.”

“You’re forgiven,” you say, making him smile.

You eat dinner on the bed then place all the containers to the side. Chan watches the news while you scribble memos in your notebook. You are trying to connect dots and figure out which facility is most likely. You go back to your original notes, obtained from the first research facility, to see if you missed anything.

You fall asleep while working. The week’s travails evidently catch up to you.

You stir when Chan tries to move you. You are awkwardly slumped over your notes. You watch as he carefully places them aside and tries to lay you down properly.

The sun has long since set by now. The room is lit by the glow of the television and the warm neon light from the motel sign, such a vibrant yellow it pours through the curtains.

You look up at Chan, squinting because of the slash of light in your eyes. He tilts his head to shield you.

“Better?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

He doesn’t move. Neither do you. You are on your back and he is on his side, propped up on his arm and looking down at you. You offer a little smile which draws his eyes to your mouth.

Your breath catches and, just like that, something ignites inside you. You see it reflected back at you, all his thoughts in the depth of his gaze.

You are not sure who moves first. It might happen simultaneously. It only takes a second before your fingers are in his hair and his hands are on your waist. He climbs over you, his mouth brushing your jaw and your throat without ever landing a kiss. You shiver as his breath caresses your skin.

You had no idea so many small places were so sensitive. Even the back of your calf tingles when his leg brushes yours.

You move in tandem, with the same synchronisation as when you fought together. Your bodies are a good fit, shaped by similar lives, bearing similar scars. You tug the flannel down his shoulders and sit to remove your own shirt. When you are completely bare up top, he lays you down. Your hips lift towards him, needing him, legs parting as he presses his weight just so. He guides your leg over his hip and fits himself against the softest parts of you.

He presses a hand into the mattress, right by your head. You tip your head back and grind up against him.

“Chan,” you say.

His mouth hovers above your breasts and you grab his head and pull him close. He takes the offer and parts his lips around the hardening sensitive peak, twisting his tongue around it until you are writhing under him.

“Oh god,” you say, tugging desperately at his t-shirt. You normally don’t care about fully undressing, but you need to feel him. You want his heart beating against yours, his skin hot against your own. “Please,” you say, not even embarrassed when it turns to a whimper.

He makes a small noise, acknowledging you, but continues to lave kisses and bites across your breasts, teasing until they are almost sore with pleasure. Only when you are a mindless puddle of desire does he sit up and whip his shirt off. It flies across the room, forgotten. You both unbutton your jeans and shuffle them down. The few seconds you are apart are agony.

When he lays back on top of you, it is with no barriers. He holds your hand and laces your fingers with his, pressing it into the mattress as he spreads your legs with his own.

“You feel so—” he says, sentiment ending in a sigh. No other word suffices.

Your whole body feels alight. His thumb find the centre of your pleasure, rubbing at you while he sinks inside you. He is somehow both gentle and powerful, holding you at the best angle as he takes you. You are used to fast and dirty and this slow tenderness aches with a burn so good, you never want it to end.

“Chan,” you say his name on a breath. He releases your hand so you can put your arms around his shoulders, holding him as he rocks into you with rolling, deep strokes.

His face is so close. Your mouth is aching with the rest of you. His lips felt so good everywhere else. The delirium of desire takes over and you decide, fuck it. You have done this much, changed this much; you can be brave and accept more intimacy. It’s just a kiss. There’s nothing life-changing about a kiss.

You lean up to kiss him but you are too fast, too frantic with nerves. It lands awkwardly on the corner of his mouth. Then you feel embarrassed. You shake your head.

“Sorry,” you say. “Sorry, I was just—”

Chan is frozen on top of you. He stares while you stammer an apology.

Then his nose brushes yours. You feel his breath against your lips. You stop talking. Your heart thunders.

“I told you,” he whispers, “stop apologizing.”

Then his lips are on yours. Your eyes close as you follow the give-and-take of his kiss. Your lips part and his tongue touches your top lip, then he sucks your bottom lip and moans against your open mouth. You clench around him, moaning back. His hips move again and you cling to him. The kisses start small and grow to desperate, open-mouthed passion. Coupled with his deep strokes, getting faster and faster, you feel like you are flying.

Oh, is all you think, this is what this is supposed to feel like.

You come first, the orgasm taking you by surprise. It was steadily building at a small pace before all at once striking. You cry out, burying your fingers in his hair as you rock against him. He finishes only seconds later, groaning your name in the curve of your neck then sucking a bruising kiss right there.

You hold him after, your fingers stroking down the nape of his neck, your legs wrapped around him. It feels like years before your heart comes back to a normal pace. Your breathing still comes shaky, but so does his. His strong arms seem suddenly weak as he pushes himself up with a quiver.

You separate. You try to find the words but you mind still feels like water.

You are so floaty, it takes a second to realize something is wrong. Chan is crying, or about to, sniffling hard and scrunching his face to stop it.

“Chan—”

Alarmed, you reach for him, but he moves before your hand makes contact. He gets up and wordlessly puts on his jeans and a flannel, buttoning it askew. You grab your shirt as well, tugging it on frantically to keep up.

“Chan,” you say again. “What’s wrong? Did I—”

“It wasn’t you,” he says, but he won’t look at you. He sits on a chair and starts putting on his boots. That’s when you really panic, jumping out of bed and looking for your own pants. “Stay,” he says. “It’s fine. It’s not you. It’s me.”

“It’s not you, it’s me?” you ask. “Seriously?”

“It’s my fault,” he says. “You said right now and that you were fine without the past or the future and I thought – I thought I could – but –”

He grabs his baseball cap and tugs it on. You say his name again, reaching for his sleeve as he walks past, but he does not break stride for a second.

You can’t exactly chase after him half-naked. You know he will be long gone by the time you get dressed. You can only stand there in shock and confusion as the door closes and he disappears.

You sniffle. You shake your head, refusing to cry, not after everything.

Your body does not listen to your head, unsurprisingly, and you end up sputtering through messy tears while putting on some clothes. You wipe your eyes, fighting an upward battle against your hormones as all those happy, pleasurable feelings melt into something ugly.

Chan returns almost an hour later. By that point, you have passed through several different emotions. You were worried, of course, then you were sad. Now you are irate. You were left to stew in anxiety, sitting on edge. For a while you wondered if he was coming back at all, which set off more tears.

You are certain your face is puffy and your eyes are red. Chan looks at you with a guilty expression but says nothing.

“Well?” you say, but he just stares at you. You are sitting on the edge of the bed while he stands a few feet away. “Great,” you say, smacking the bedcovers. “Fucking fantastic. We’re back to the silence, I guess?”

“I know,” he says. “Sorry.”

You wait for more but that non-committal reply is all you get.

“You told me that you trusted me,” you say, mortified when your voice breaks. “You said that one day it would be my turn to help you, but every time you start to feel something you hide it or turn away or say you’re fine or run out the fucking door with no explanation!” You stand up to put more space between you, marching to other side of the room. You wipe your eyes. “You know, I feel like I don’t even know who I’m talking to half the time.”

“I’m always me,” he says.

“And who is that?” you ask. “From the start, you’ve basically asked me to blindly trust you. One second you’re this terrifying agent who does everything my father asks, and the next you’re just standing there letting me kill him. I haven’t demanded explanations. You said it was just your mission and I accepted that, even though I knew it was bullshit. I know this is about more than jobs or missions and I – I – I’m sorry everything’s all fucked up. But we’re all we have right now.” Your voice breaks again and you choke back a sob. “You can’t ask me to trust you then push me away. You can’t say you trust me but never let me in. I’m terrified out here. We’re doing something insane and I can’t have the person I’m relying on the most shove me away. I want to be on your side. Chan, I want – I want so badly –”

He takes a breath but stays silent. His gaze is heavy.

“Please, don’t look at me like that,” you say. “I know you’re not what Miroh tried to make you. I know what they did to you. I know it was terrible. But I’m not afraid of you and I’m not judging you. I want to know you. I need to know you. I know you can remember some things. I know it’s causing you pain. If I could understand—”

“I remember everything,” he says.

You are not expecting an interjection. It takes a second to comprehend.

“What?” you say.

“I said I remember everything,” he says. He looks at you as he slowly approaches. “There isn’t a single moment of my life that I’ve forgotten for even a second.”

He stops a foot from you. This close, you can see he has been crying too. Even through your frustration, you want to touch him. You are so bad at comfort, receiving and giving, but your fingers itch to smooth his brow and cup his jaw.

You curl your fingers at your side.

“Everyday,” he says. “Every single day I think of my mistakes and what it cost. I haven’t forgotten anything.”

“What do you mean?” Your adrenaline is starting to spike. “There was a reconfiguration program. I know about it. That’s how it happened.” You know about the torture. You can see the light at the top of the well and feel the cold in the bottom of the Cell. You know about it. You can picture it. You saw that place yesterday.

You know. You know. You know.

Your chest starts to tighten with panic.

“You did all of Miroh’s work willingly,” you continue.

“Yes, I did,” he says. “But it wasn’t willingly.”

“Because they tortured you.”

“In a way.” He sucks back a breath. “I thought I was smart. I thought I could beat Miroh. I almost did, but then everything—”

A memory from a dream: a flash of grey smoke.

“It went wrong,” he says with a resigned sigh. “I was punished. That’s true. But I didn’t care what they did to me and Miroh knew that. So he took someone else. Someone I cared about. And when it was all done, I was given a choice.” His voice breaks on the word choice, the whole phrase utterly dryly. “And it wasn’t really a choice,” he says. “I could walk away. He wasn’t even going to try and stop me. But Miroh wanted a soldier. He said all the blood on his hands was going somewhere one way or another – and he said it could be on mine or hers.”

You are not sure if you are breathing anymore.

“The things they did to her – the things they made me watch.” He presses a hand to his forehead as he takes another breath. “She was a good fighter, but she wasn’t a killer. It never mattered what they did to her, she always knew who she was. She knew whose side she was on. She wanted to help people, not hurt them. I couldn’t let her become that thing. If she ever – if she ever came back to me—” He swallows. “I couldn’t let it be her. I couldn’t let her have all that blood on her conscious. I’d already failed her. Again and again, I let her down. I couldn’t do it again. I told Miroh I’d take her place willingly. I’d do anything he asked so she wouldn’t have to get her hands dirty. She could come back one day and… and…”

“What are you talking about,” you say. You fumble towards the bed and drop down heavily.

Chan looks at you. That silent conversation.

You already know what he is going to say.

“Miroh only put one soldier through a reconfiguration program,” he says. “And it wasn’t me. It was you.”

#bang chan x reader #bang chan smut #chan x reader #bang chan x you #chan x you #bang chan fanfiction #stray kids fanfiction #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x you #stray kids x you

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yumeka-sxf · 8 days ago

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I'm finally home from my vacation and able to discuss the latest SxF chapter...all I can say is, I have a lot to say! I'll start with funny stuff first before I move on to analyzing...

Anya was especially hilarious in this chapter - where do I even start with her gremlin-ness? 😂 First off, there's her calling the butlers "henchlings' henchlings" (in the Japanese version, I believe she's using some mispronunciation of 弟子, which means "follower")

Then she calls out Twilight for being, well, Twilight, even giving his behavior its own acronym 🤣

She feels bad for George because his family isn't important enough for Twilight's aforementioned Twilighting 😅

And this doozy of a nickname for Bill!

In the Japanese version, she calls him something like "old man bully who hits people with balls" 😆

But joking aside, we get these profound words from Jeeves that seem to resonate with Twilight.

His words remind Twilight of the hypocrisy of his position: on the one hand, he agrees with Jeeves and wants the children to be able to grow up as they wish, without being burdened by the expectations of their parents. But that's exactly what he's been corralling Anya towards this whole time...doing whatever's best for Operation Strix, regardless of what may be best for her.

This scene reminded me of his musings when they first took Bond to the dog park; another case where he's aware that the morals he believes in are the opposite of his actions and yet...he continues with the mission.

I also think it's great that the other parents thank Anya for her bravery during the bus hijacking. Even if their kids don't act grateful, the parents should be on their behalf. Perhaps seeing this praise for Anya right before his eyes is what made Twilight feel even more guilt upon hearing Jeeves' words - he's seeing more and more what an exceptional girl she is despite not having the perfect traits for his mission, and yet he's still manipulating her (not realizing she's aware of the mission and wants to help).

But on that note, it's nice to see that George's dad and Becky's mom somewhat agree with Jeeves. As of now, I'd say out of all the Eden kids we've gotten to know, George and Becky seem to have the most decent families. I especially like how Becky's dad is adorably doting, to the point where he gets crushed when Becky asks Yor for help instead of him 😅 Also Martha having to reel him in, lol.

But despite being an overbearing dad, at least he isn't quick to jump on Loid supposedly "seducing" Becky 😂 He seems to not take it seriously, which is good since Becky is the one making the moves with her silly little girl crush.

Also Emile thinking Yor is pretty~ I'm surprised he had something nice to say about anyone connected to Anya, lol. I really want a chapter where Yor takes all the Eden kids on a playdate and they start thinking she's awesome like Becky does, even Damian.

Speaking of Yor, just when I thought she would be demoted to "background character" for whatever arc is coming, the last few panels give the impression that she'll have her next moment in the spotlight soon! Is she just destined to always catch Melinda when she falls? 😅

Not only are we getting more Yor/Melinda interactions next time, but also (hopefully) more of Anya reading Melinda's mind. I know there's theories floating around of how Donovan may be able to read minds and is possibly the one behind the experiments done on Anya, and that Melinda may have some psychic abilities too. Also some relation to that Arnold Crowley character introduced several chapters ago. I'm not good at theorizing, so I'll leave it to fans who are better with that kind of stuff 😅 But I think they're all good theories and I'm keeping my fingers crossed we'll get more insight into Desmond secrets very soon!

...but unfortunately the next new chapter won't be until November 25th, so we'll have to be satisfied with theories for now!

#spy x family #sxf #spy family #spyxfamily #loid forger #yor forger #anya forger #damian desmond #melinda desmond #sxf manga #sxf manga spoilers #sxf spoilers #becky blackbell

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dwaekkicidal · 4 months ago

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Sharing is Caring [1.5: ChanSung]

˚ʚBang Chan x Han Jisungɞ˚

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ summary: While their 'fuck buddy' takes care of Changbin, the eldest and youngest producer learn some new things about each other.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ word count: 2.4k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ warnings: member x member content: dont like dont interact <3 (you can also block the #mxm tag), swap between using Chris & Chan- sry not sry, handjob (Han rec), oral (Chris rec), poly ot8 mentions, 3racha x fem reader mentions: Changbin x fem reader action from the original version of this chapter

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ notes: i call han the maknae like once during this because he is 3racha's maknae and this was from the 3racha fic soo 🤷

Sharing is Caring Masterlist

DO NOT republish or translate+post my work!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ PSA: Red text is taken directly from Part 1 (reworded) and may contain female x Changbin content.

But when she smiles and slides off Chris' lap, softly crawling towards Changbin on all fours, both boys on the couch suddenly fix their posture. Han almost whines at the thought of Changbin getting her first until he watches the oldest stand up and saunter towards him. He gulps and looks up at the man, biting his lip when Chris leans down and grabs his chin to hold eye contact. “You still okay with us playing a little bit, Hannie?” Not fully trusting his voice, Jisung nods eagerly and allows Chris to take control, "Please..."

At this point, Han's hands had stopped moving and now just lay flat on his thighs as he waited for Chan to make the next move. Chan leans down further with a big smirk on his face, “All this time… we could have been having fun too.” His eyes flicker to Han’s lips for a moment, and when their eyes meet again he licks his lips seductively. “How long?”

Han clears his throat as Chan lowers even more, now caging the younger boy with a hand on the bottom cushions by his thigh and a hand on the back cushions by his shoulder, their faces now only a couple of inches apart. “U-Um… Like a few years? I-I’ve always been ok with it for everyone but I didn’t want to bring it up..”

“Aww, our poor Hannie. Don’t worry~ Channie-hyung will take care of you now.” Chan’s voice lowers to a whisper and he finally pushes his lips against Han's. They kiss sweetly for a moment, just enjoying each other's warmth against their lips until Jisung whines and bucks his hips into the air. Chan smiles against his lips and licks across his bottom lip, pushing his tongue past it once Han's lips parted. At the same time their tongues meet, the hand on the bottom cushion moves up to Han's thigh, making him moan into the kiss at the mere contact.

Chan holds back a laugh and indulges the desperate boy, finally wrapping his hand around his leaking dick. Han breaks the kiss and moans but manages to make eye contact with Chan as his hand starts to move. His jaw drops and he looks down momentarily, relishing in the way the veins in Chan's hands pop out and how wet it sounds. He doesn't get to look for long, not when Chan curls the fingers in his free hand into Han's hair and forces his head backward.

"'M not done with you." He slams their lips together again and this time shoves his tongue into Han's mouth right off the bat. Han moans loudly against his lips and the hands that were trying so hard to sit still on his thighs now move to Chan's big arms. He squeezes the flesh there as he bucks his hips into Chan's hand. He's so close and he tries his best to show his hyung that without having to separate from him again.

And, of course, Chan can tell. This might be the first time they've explored each other, but Chan knows all his members like the back of his hand. And the endless whimpers from Han do nothing but make it even more obvious. So Chan moves his hand faster, now focusing solely on getting the younger boy off.

But then, a pair of sudden and loud slaps grabs their attention, making them pull a few inches away from each other at the sound. Jisung’s hips buck up into Chris’ hand and he lets out a pathetic whine at the sight of the girl's ass cheeks turning a dark red. Chan lets out an exasperated laugh before saying “Oh yeah, I should’ve warned you two that she can be a stupid brat sometimes. I would say I’d teach you how to deal with it, but it seems like you got it under control already. You know what to do, baby. Be a good girl for Binnie, or else I'll handle you myself.”

Changbin steals a confused glance at his hyung before returning his gaze to the girl on his lap, loosening his grip on her neck to give her more breathing room. Her eyes meet Chan's for a second and she gulps deeply before placing her hands on his chest. “‘M sorry Binnie. I’ll be good now, I promise.” Changbin's hand completely loosens the grip on her neck but stays resting there as Chris speaks up again. “Not ‘Binnie’ baby.”

Her eyes meet Chan’s again and he smiles at her teasingly, his hands still stroking Jisung at a slow pace that has the boy whining into his own hand. She bites her lip at the sight of Jisung looking fucked out already and turns back to Changbin to retry, “I’m sorry, sir. I’ll behave now.” They all watch Changbin swallow thickly before leaning his head sideways and letting out a curse.

“Atta girl, baby,” Chan says before turning back to the squirming boy below him. Han returns his eyes to Chan and moans at the look he’s given in response. “You’re so vocal, Hannie. I’m surprised we haven’t heard you jerking off before.” Chan teased with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He doesn’t give the younger man any time to respond before he tightens his hand and speeds up his movements. The hand previously in Han's hair moves down to join his other hand by rubbing the tip of his thumb roughly through his slit.

High pitches ‘ahs’ fill that side of the room as Han cums, shooting long shots of creamy cum onto Chan’s hand and stomach, and even some onto his own shirt. Chan watches with wide eyes and a laugh as he pumps the boy through his high, focusing attention on his tip so he can watch the boy squirm from sensitivity. Once he’s sure that he's milked dry, he pulls his hand away and licks it clean, holding eye contact with Han as he does so.

Han covers his face and whines something about how hot that was and his dick twitches as if to prove his point, making Chan laugh again. He pulls away and hooks his thumbs into his sweatpants, looking Han up and down almost menacingly. He can't help but feel satisfied at how absolutely destroyed he looks. He wonders what he'd look like if they actually fucked.

Han sees Chan's dick twitch in his pants and his gaze turns upwards. He looks at Chan from under his eyelashes for a moment as he sucks on his bottom lip. Then one of his hands moves forward and teasingly trails the tip of his pointer finger around his bulge. Chan's breath catches in his throat and he shivers, "Hmm?" Han’s cheeks burn bright but he tucks himself into his boxers and quietly stands up on wobbly legs.

He tries to push Chan onto the couch, only for him not to budge, and amusedly raise his eyebrow. Chan laughs and tilts his head, placing a hand on Han’s throat before roughly orienting him to meet his eyes. “Use your words, Han-ah. You have no idea how far I’ll go to punish a brat who can't use their manners.” He squeezes lightly, not enough to cut off any airflow, and waits patiently for a response. Han gulps and nods, immediately complying in fear. “‘Wanna suck you off..." The hushed tone would usually be enough to call for discipline, but he was playing nice with Han. It was their first time together, after all.

So Chan lets him go and pats his cheek with a small smile, “Good boy.” He plops on the couch, stealing a glance at the two fucking like rabbits to his right before looking up at the flushed boy before him. Han sinks to his knees, resting his hands on his own thighs as he waits for permission to touch him further. Chan whistles at the younger boy's immediate submission. “Fuck.. You’re so much more well-behaved than that brat over there... Really should have let me play with you earlier, Hannie.” Han can see Chan’s dick twitch from under his pants and he watches in awe as Chan slides them down along with his boxers and frees his dick.

Despite living together and dealing with Chan walking around half-naked all the time, it had been a long time since any of the members saw each other naked, let alone in the new dorms where everybody got their own bathrooms. So Han is pleasantly surprised to see how big Chan is. He can already feel the saliva pooling as he stares, but he looks up at the older pleadingly, still waiting for permission. Chan tilts his head and smirks smugly, grabbing himself by the base and tapping his tip against Han’s pretty pink lips. “Patient too... Such a good boy haha. Go ahead, Hannie.”

Han’s hands immediately shoot up; one barely manages to wrap around Chan's width and the other rests flat against Chan's pelvis with his thumb and his pointer finger circling his base. He swallows the thick saliva in his mouth and experimentally pumps his hand a few times, watching dazedly as precum dribbles out the tip. Chan feels so heavy in his hand and it makes Han dizzy at the thought of what it might feel like inside of him. But this good boy wants nothing more than to behave for his hyung, so he snaps out of his daze and leans forward to lick a line against Chan’s slit.

When the older groans and bucks his hips in response, Han smiles and does it again, this time finishing it off by taking the first few inches into his mouth. Chan’s head hits the cushions as Han goes deeper, flattening his tongue and sucking as he takes the length inch by inch. The weight of Chan's dick on his tongue makes him moan and lead vibrations around him.

Eventually, Han’s nose hits Chan's pelvis and, having lost all focus at the realization, he gags loudly. Chan’s thighs twitch on either side of him so he forcefully loses focus again, making his eye twitch shut as he gags a few more times before pulling off to let himself breathe. He gasps and a thick string of saliva chases his lips. Chan forces his head up and they make eye contact as Han lowers again, this time swirling his tongue around his tip while his right hand pumps him. The hand that was previously on his pelvis moves down to fondle his balls, squeezing them each time his tongue catches on the slit of Chan’s dick. Chan shivers and moans loudly, furrowing his eyebrows as he focuses on the oddly talented demon between his legs who’s bringing his orgasm on so soon.

“Please please please-” Chris’ ears suddenly perk up at the sound of the girl to his right begging. He chuckles breathlessly and it takes everything in him to keep his eyes on the pretty boy between his legs. “F-Fuck…” He whispers under his breath as his hips buck into Han’s mouth. He clears his throat and manages a normal sentence while watching his dick get throated, “Bin, I usually have to overstimulate her for her to beg like that. Shit... You must’ve fucked her stupid already.”

Chan doesn’t bother listening to any reply that he might’ve gotten. Instead, he zones in on the boy below him, watching as his confidence grows with each second. “You’re doing so well, Hannie. F-Fuck! W-Where the hell did you learn how to do this??” Han chuckles around him and it causes vibrations that make Chan’s legs shake. He pulls off and pumps him as he answers, “Me and one of the others mess around with each other every now and then.”

“Holy shit… W-Who??” Han stays quiet, kitten licking up Chan’s length as he begins an internal debate with himself. Eventually, the desperate, shiny eyes of the older boy make him cave and he leans up. He places a kiss on the very top of Chan’s dick and names the culprit before he goes down on him again. Chan moans loudly at the imagery that came with the mention of his other members' names and his dick twitches in Han’s mouth.

Han increases his efforts, keeping up his hand’s movements while suddenly taking the length as deep into his throat as he can without gagging horribly. Chan’s mind spins with the new information about his members and about Han’s ability to suck dick so well. His stomach tightens and his hips continuously buck up into Han’s mouth. He lets out a few gasps that gradually turn to whines, signaling that he’s dangerously close. Han picks up on it and deepthroats him all the way to the hilt, even gagging a few times on purpose.

They both faintly hear the sound of a girl whining about how hot the sight is, but it goes in one ear and right out the other as they focus on each other. Han smiles to himself and stops his hand’s efforts, only to place them on the very top of his thigh. He rakes his nails down Chan’s thighs, reveling in the high-pitched squeaks it pulls from him. Chan’s hips buck one more time before he cums. Hard. He throws his head back and holds a firm grip on Han’s hair as he thrusts a few times in his mouth, spilling a bigger load than normal.

He quickly angles his head forward again to watch his dick slide in and out of Han’s mouth, some of his cum frothing out. Slowly the grip on the younger’s hair loosens and Chan watches the boy on the floor with lidded eyes. Han hollows his cheeks to get every last drop then slowly pulls off of Chan’s sensitive dick. They hold each other’s gaze once again and Han shows off the contents in his mouth before making a show of swallowing it, then showing his empty tongue after.

Chan throws a hand over his eyes at the sight and whines, resting his head against the back cushion as the girl to his right begins to laugh at him. She meets Han's eyes and winks at him, blowing him a kiss with a fucked out smile. He sends one back and watches from the corner of his eye and Changbin returns to the room.

After cleaning up and settling down to watch a movie with each other, Changbin and her are the first to fall asleep, leaving the two boys who just explored each other. It wasn’t as awkward as they thought, but Han could tell something was bugging Chan. But luckily before his anxiety has the chance to sink in, Chan finally breaks the silence. “So Han…" Chan starts, unsure how to ask the question without coming off wrong. The boy in question hums, craning his neck to look up at his hyung and wait patiently for him to finish his question.

“You and Lix?”

Taglist:

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@baby-stay92

#sian’s writing #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #skz x reader #skz smut #skz imagines #3racha x reader #3racha smut #changbin smut #chan smut #bang chan smut #han jisung smut #changbin x reader #chansung smut #bang chan x han jisung #skz mxm #mxm

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just-dreaming-marvel · 26 days ago

Text

Love That Burns ~ 8

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,416ish

Summary: You get brought to a school and meet new mutants.

Warnings: sadness, time skips

Notes: Hopefully this chapter makes sense and isn't complete trash. And don't worry! Our lovebirds will see each other again soon! But that doesn't mean there's fluff coming... Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

You didn’t expect to be brought to a mansion—a school when you got in the jet. You had stayed silent and stared out one of the windows the entirety of the flight. Charles explained where you were headed: Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. He ran the school for mutants to get educated and learn to handle their mutations. You would have loved the idea more if you weren’t dying inside. The kids were all escorted to a lab to get checked out while you stayed seated on the jet. Charles stayed with you.

“I can help you,” he said.

“Stay out of my head,” you grumbled.

“I am truly sorry for what I had to do before.” He wheeled closer. “You’re safe now.”

“I don’t care!” You finally looked at the man, not caring if he saw you crying. “Nothing matters anymore… Nothing…”

“You’ve been through a lot. You need rest and to get that bullet out of your shoulder.”

You shook your head. “I need James… I don’t care about anything else… I just need him.” You stood up. “I have to go back.”

“It’s too late. The military has already arrived.”

“I can’t— I can’t—“ You broke into sobs as you collapsed on your knees.

You never even noticed that a young girl had entered the jet. She walked over to you and knelt in front of you. Clearly feeling brave, the girl reached out and took your hand.

“Jean,” Charles called, “what are you doing?”

“Her thoughts are loud,” the girl, Jean, admitted.

You tried to weakly tug your hand away, but the girl held strong. You looked at her, confused, before you began to feel sleepy. Before you knew it, you were passed out on the floor of the jet.

“Jean, you shouldn’t have done that,” Charles admonished.

“I had to,” Jean argued. “Her pain was everywhere. She needs rest.”

Charles sighed. “And you did well. Go get Hank so that we can get our new friend here to a bed.”

~~~

Glancing around the room, you put together that you had been moved to the lab or med area of some sort. There was a large, blue… beast? The beast was facing away from you, looking at some screen. You cleared your throat as you sat up. The beast turned around.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he said, coming towards you. “You’ve been asleep for a few days. We were worried there for a second.”

“Where am I?” You asked, still nervous about your surroundings.

“At Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.”

“This doesn’t look like a school.”

“This is our underground facility, used for training mostly.”

You nodded. “Who are you?”

“I’m Hank McCoy.”

“Y/N L/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you.”

You sat up and swung your legs over the edge of the table. “Am I good to leave?”

“This room or the school?”

“Both.”

Hank sighed, almost like he knew you were going to say that. “You should talk to Charles before you leave. I’ll take you to him.”

You slipped off the metal table and followed Hank out into the hallway. It was silver metal, like the room you were just in, and long with various large circular doors with ‘X’s on them. Hank led you to an elevator, letting you enter first before he pressed the button to go up.

When the elevator reopened, you were a bit taken back. It was like you were transported to a completely different place. The place was grand and spacious, featuring intricate woodwork and paintings on the walls. It was almost like a museum. There were children of various ages rushing about—students of the school. You kept looking around as Hank led you to a quaint office down the hall from the elevator. Charles Xavier was already facing the door, waiting for you.

“Thank you, Hank,” Charles said. “You may leave us.”

Hank gave the other man a nod before leaving, shutting the door behind him. Charles gave you a light smile as he motioned over to a leather chair.

“Please, have a seat.”

“I’m good,” you said, your words baring no emotion.

“Very well. How are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

Charles sighed. “I am not the enemy, Y/N. I am sorry for taking away your free will, but it was for your safety.”

“My safety doesn’t matter anymore… James is dead.”

“I am sorry for your loss.”

“When can I leave?”

“Whenever you’d like. But I do hope you’d stay a while, give this place a chance. We could use another teacher.”

Your heart suddenly sunk when it finally hit you that your students didn’t know what had happened. They were probably devastated. You finally took a seat before your knees could give out.

“I believe that we could use you here, Y/N,” Charles continued. “You’d be a great teacher. A teacher to mutants like you. You could be the good influence that you didn’t have.”

You shook your head, tearing up. “I can’t… I don’t know how… not without James.”

“It will be hard. But here, you could gain a family. Friends who are like you. A job and even, a mission.”

“I… I can’t stay.”

“It’s your choice. But please do stay for a few days, just to get some rest and figure out what you would like to do. I can show you to a room that you can use as long as you need.” He reached over and placed his hand on top of yours. “This place will always welcome you, no matter what you choose.”

~~~

You were given your own room near the other teachers. You told Charles that you would stay for a few days to get a plan together and then leave. But now it had been over a week. You couldn’t get yourself to leave, but you also weren’t interacting with anyone. You kept to yourself whether that was in your room or roaming through the gardens. You could feel the eyes of everyone at the school on you, wondering who you were and what you were doing there, but you didn’t care. The gardens were big enough that you often found new areas to hide in every day. You would find a spot and cry, wishing that you could somehow make things right again. That James could be by your side.

It had been a while since you had any nightmares, now they were every time you closed your eyes. You had set your room on fire a few times, with Charles and Hank telling you that it was alright, but it didn’t matter. You avoided sleep now. You couldn’t risk burning the place down though you couldn’t find it in yourself to leave. There was something about this place that wouldn’t let you go. Something telling you that you were meant to stay.

You were in the gardens one day when it got really bad. You were absentmindedly walking around when your right hand gripped at your left. You stumbled to a stop as you looked down at your hand. Your ring. You didn’t have your ring. A sob tore through you before you could do anything about it and you were quickly brought to your knees. Your chest was tightening, causing you to struggle for breath.

You didn’t register the quick footsteps behind you. Or the three students that knelt in front of you.

“We have to help her,” one of them said. He had sunglasses over his eyes, trying to manage the lasers that could shoot from them. “Ororo?”

“Don’t look at me,” Ororo responded.

“I can help her,” the red-headed, Jean, offered. “I’ve done it before.”

Jean’s hand reached out and gripped your shoulder. Within a few moments, you were completely passed out on the ground.

“Grab her, Scott,” Jean told the boy.

Scott picked you up and carried you inside. Charles was already there waiting, sensing what had happened. He instructed the kids to take you to your room and then he’d keep an eye out on you. So that’s were you woke, in your new bed. Charles was reading a book next to the bed, using the lamp on the bedside table to give off some light.

“How did I get here?” You asked.

Charles set the book down on his lap and gave you a tight smile. “Scott Summers, one of the kids that you rescued. He and two others found you. I had them bring you here.”

You nodded as you sat up, leaning against the headboard. “I’m so lost.”

“I know.”

“I think… I think I’m going to stay. At least for a little while. Until I find myself again.”

“We would be honored to have you.”

“And I can teach?”

“Of course.”

~~~

Charles had you set up in a classroom the next day and a few days later, you were teaching the English Literature class. Jean, Scott, and Ororo were three of your students, each in different classes. Slowly, you began to connect more with each of them. You would help them with various homework assignments after classes and soon began watching their training sessions, giving them tips on how to control their powers.

“Scott, it starts with confidence,” you told him from the side of the Danger Room, located in the basement of the mansion. “If you don’t believe you can control it, them you won’t be able to.”

Charles watched the training session from the sidelines, interested in how quickly you ended up helping these kids. You watched as Scott shot his lasers everywhere, quickly losing control. You ducked before you got hit. Scott grunted in annoyance as he slipped his new visors on that Hank had made him.

“I’m done for the day,” Scott grumbled, stomping out of the room.

You sighed as you pushed yourself up to standing.

“You’ve seemed to grow fond of Scott, Jean, and Ororo,” Charles stated as he rolled toward you.

“They need some help,” you said. “I can provide that.”

“And you’re doing it very well.” He looked around the Danger Room. “When was the last time you let your powers unleashed?” You clenched your jaw, thinking back to the day you lost James. “You should take some time to work on your own abilities.”

“I don’t have any reason to.”

“And if I gave you a reason?” You eyed Charles curiously. “This underground facility is also known as the headquarters for the X-Men.”

“X-Men?”

“A team of mutant heroes that help were needed. As of right now, we don’t have a team. You could train some students, put a team together.”

“You trust me to do this?”

“Y/N, I have seen your past. This is your chance to put together a team who could actually make a difference.”

You gave it a brief thought, knowing that Charles had a point. “Okay. I’m in.”

~~~

You began training the students interested in joining the team and those with abilities that could help the team. That meant that you had long days, but you didn’t mind. The longer the days, the less time you slept, which also meant less nightmares. You began to use your abilities more and more, working to strengthen them using the Danger Room in ways that you hadn’t before. It was freeing, your alone time in the Danger Room.

A few years past and the students were older, officially ready to be part of a team. To them, that meant that they needed superhero nicknames.

“What about Cyclops?” Jean suggested for Scott.

“Cyclops isn’t terrible,” Ororo agreed.

“I honestly don’t care,” Scott said.

“Cyclops it is then,” Jean said with a smile. “Ororo is obviously Storm.”

“I love it!” Ororo exclaimed with a clap. “And you’re Phoenix, Jean.”

“Phoenix… I like it.” The three turned to you, who had remained silent, working on new suit designs. “And for Y/N… I think… Ember.”

“Ember?” You repeated.

“I think it works great!” Ororo said.

You sighed. “Whatever you kids say.”

“Ember it is then!”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “You guys need a life.”

“We have one. We’re X-Men!”

“Or X-Women,” suggested Jean.

“That doesn’t roll off the tongue nicely.”

“If you three could stop talking about names and start helping me with these sketches, that would be nice.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Scott replied with a mock salute.

With a mere thought of yours, flames appeared on the jeans Scott was wearing. He screamed, running around, while the other three of you laughed. You put out the flames before any real damage could be done, revealing that the flames had destroyed Scott’s jeans and underwear, leaving his butt hanging out. You, Jean, and Ororo only laughed harder as Scott tried to cover his butt with his hands and ran off.

~~~

You woke up feeling off and looking at the date only made it worse. It was the tenth anniversary of James’ death. Thankfully, you didn’t need to teach today. So you were slow to get up and ready before heading out to the gardens, to try and spend the day alone. Your hand stayed clasped around your dog tags as you wandered the gardens aimlessly. You could feel eyes watching you from the mansion and knew that Charles, Hank, Ororo, Jean, and Scott were worried.

It was around dinner time when Charles decided to go to you. You were standing near the pond, staring out like you weren’t even there. Charles sat next to you, staring out for a moment before clearing his throat.

“I know today is hard for you,” he said. “But there are some bright sides to it… Ten years ago, you were brought here. Scott was brought here. You’ve become a teacher and a leader to many mutants.”

“I miss him,” you rasped, voice cracking. “I miss him every day, but…”

“Today is worse. I have days like that too. Days were I miss those that I used to know.”

“Like Erik and Raven?”

“Mhm,” he nodded.

“I know you mean well, Charles, but Erik and Raven aren’t dead. You’re just on different sides of the fight. James… James is dead and part of me died with him.”

“Yes, but a new part of you was born.” When you didn’t respond, Charles sighed. “At least eat something. We can’t have you leaving us too soon.”

Charles rolled away, leaving you alone once again.

“I love you, James,” you closed your eyes and whispered, praying that somehow he could hear you. “I will always love you.”

next chapter >

#logan howlet x reader #james logan howlett x reader #logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett #james logan howlett #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x mutant reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x female!reader #logan howlett x f!reader #wolverine fanfiction #the wolverine #wolverine #wolverine x reader #the wolverine x reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel x reader #marvel fanfic

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thatanimeramenchick · 9 months ago

Text

Yandere Vox x Secretary Reader Pt. 2

Eh, what have you guys done to me. I swear, we Vox fangirls are the thirstiest on the internet right now. Also, officially, I’m making this a three part series, but that’s it. So much for a oneshot. I'll make a title for this series, eventually. Also, if you want to be tagged, please put your age in your bio.

Part One - Part Three

Triggers: Dubcon-y vibes in scenes. Violence and threatening. Read responsibly, stuff is gonna get a little dark this chapter.

Word count: 3,142

---

Vox thought you looked perfect. For once, you were wearing something decent that he bought you instead of one of the plain outfits from before you had moved in. Somehow, you had been convinced to put on actual jewelry and makeup as well. The only flaw you held was the dirty look on your face, which you refused to face towards him directly, and it only got dirtier as you downed more and more wine.

“You know, you could at least attempt to have a good time after all the effort I put into this evening,” he said, “You haven’t even touched your food.”

“Not hungry,” you said, voice ice cold. It always was nowadays.

“If you’re not in the mood for dinner, we could watch a new production I oversaw,” he said, “I think you’d enjoy it.”

You snort at that.

“I’d rather listen to Alastor’s radio program than watch any of the hot trash your production company creates,” you said.

“I’m sorry? What was that?” he said, putting a warning hint into his tone.

“You heard me,” you said, “I’ve gotta say for someone supposedly so modern, you’re still just an old man. Alastor is what? Like twenty years older than you? And you think he’s elderly? You’re practically a decrepit bygone as well. You think anyone gives a shit about cable nowadays? At least Alastor has the decency to make stuff with class and not just forgettable, cheap cash grabs.”

Against his will, he felt a circuit spurt. His hand clenched around the glass and slammed it onto the table, causing you to jump. A small noise left your mouth, as panicked as the look in your eyes was now. You looked like you knew that you had pushed a little more than you probably should have.

“You know what?” he hissed, “You think you can just talk to me like that? Fine. You wanna play rough with me? Well guess what, I’m going to fuck that bad attitude right out of you!”

“Excuse me???”

You didn’t even look scared at that just shocked and baffled, as if that had been the last thing you had expected to hear.

“You heard me!” he grabbed you by your shoulders and shoved you flat onto the couch, “I’m sick of you fighting me. Well, you’re not going to after this.”

“W-wait, Vox, stop-”

He smashed his lips to yours, purposefully being harsh, biting you when you tried to keep your mouth closed. When you attempted to turn your face away, he grabbed your chin rough enough where he knew it would leave a mark before kissing you harder. You pounded your fist against his chest, but he ignored it, straddling you. He eventually used his other hand to grab your wrist and push it into the couch.

He didn’t know when it happened, but at some point in your struggle something shifted in the air. Changed. You had finally stopped fighting, slowly wrapping your arm around his neck, kissing him back. It was heavenly, you finally submitting to him. Yes, yes, yes… He paused to look you in the eyes, to see your timid gaze and red face. There was still a look of anger glazed across your features, but it was fading. He brought his hand up to play at the buttons on your blouse. You looked at each other for a second longer before you initiated a kiss for once, using the arm around his neck to pull him close. Your tongue felt so hot, so right, as if your body was as electric as his own and-

Vox gasped, a spark running through his head. He woke up alone in bed, a literal hot mess. He felt like his head was overheating, running a million miles a minute, despite the fact that he should feel cold from sleep. Mixing this with the slick sweat and fluid he was covered in, it was an uncomfortable feeling. Groping for the robe hanging next to his bed, he climbed out. What a dream. He needed a second to wire down from that before trying to go back to sleep.

He picked up his phone and opened it to check on you. The camera in your room showed you curled up on your mattress, blanket half off your body and arms wrapped around one of your pillows. It pressed into your dozing face, which held a peaceful, relaxed look that he rarely saw now that you had decided to go to war with him. His finger absently stroked your image on the screen.

Why did you have to be so difficult? He didn’t know what had been the powder keg that had kicked off your little rebellion, but whatever it was, all his attempts to nip it in the bud had made you more temperamental. Clearly his irritation with your behavior had seeped into his mind enough to create some… darker fantasies deep in his sleeping subconscious.

He shook his head. It was just a dream. It didn’t mean anything.

Besides, he already had been thinking about what to do next, to give you that little push you needed to be more agreeable.

---

Later that day he scoffed at how ridiculous his own morbid imagination was. The idea of you dressed all pimped up like one of Valentino’s whores. You barely got out of bed nowadays. If he was being honest, your imprisonment had caused your mood to swing between defiant temper tantrums and a hopelessly depressed sloth. Today, you were in the latter mood, still in pajamas that he swore you were wearing two days ago, lying on the couch and mindlessly eating as you watched some random reality show.

“Hello there, beautiful,” he said, trying to sound pleasant, “Looks like you’ve had a relaxing day.”

You glance at him for a second before looking back at the television. The blanket is pulled tighter around you, as if you were trying to hide any inch of yourself from him. Ever since his last attempt at showing his affection had ended in you headbutting him – hard – you had been particularly prickly at even the slightest hint that he might want to touch you.

“What do you want, asshole?” you said, voice lacking emotion.

Charming as always.

“Well, dearest, I was thinking. Now that you’ve had some time to think things over, I was hoping we could finally come to an agreement that would make us both happy,” he said.

“I highly doubt that’s possible,” you said.

He sat beside you, which caused you to curl your legs in tighter. You inch up on the arm a little, as if to sit as far away from him as possible without having to actually put any effort into getting up.

“We both have something that the other person wants, something that could be easily settled with a written contract,” Vox said, “You would like to be allowed to roam around this cesspool of a city and I-”

“Let me guess, it includes a whole paragraph about me never leaving your sight as well as a clause about how often you get to stick yourself in my various orifices?” you grumbled.

“You’re so melodramatic sometimes,” he said, “You always assuming the worst about people, F/N. Makes me wonder if you were double crossed a lot in your previous life.”

You don’t even respond to this, just continue to stare ahead. He’d noticed that lately you’ve been avoiding his gaze. He wasn’t sure how much you had figured out about his abilities, but you seemed to have pieced enough together that the more you avoided his eyes, the less direct influence he had on you at the moment. He was sure that it was one of the many reasons you were so moody lately; you stubbornly refused to be soothed by him. Regardless, whether you were trying to avoid his hypnotic gaze or not, it’s no matter. It’s not like you’re going to be able to avoid the overall influence he has over this city, especially if you spend your free time watching television he’s created.

“It’s rather tame, considering the situation you’re in. Contract or not, it’s not like you’re going to be going anywhere anytime soon,” he continued, “You’re lucky I care for you as much as I do, trying to work with you like this.”

“Hooray for me,” you said.

You really were a brat sometimes. Vox at times wondered if it was because he was too soft on you, and you didn’t realize the amount of actual power he held over you. Either that or you just didn’t care anymore. Whatever. It was all big talk because at the end of the day, you both knew you couldn’t do anything about your situation.

“You already have lots of benefits, which you would retain. Nice apartment, clothes, up to date tech. Besides that, you can come and go regularly, as long as you’re back here within twenty-four from when you last left. You can do whatever you want during that time. You also would be working for me a minimum of forty hours a week, with the occasional granted vacation at my discretion. That’s pretty much it, along with you occasionally being cooperative with my… desires,” he said, “So you’d have plenty of time to yourself. I didn’t put in anything that would force you to do anything too unsavory with me.”

Though he certainly would have liked to be more pushy in that department, he knew going too far could result in the kind of hate fueled relationship Valentino and Angel Dust shared. He honestly didn’t have the energy to have that much drama in his own life. Good night, he could hardly handle the drama that was in his life now. Besides, he was sure you’d come around willingly, even if it took a few centuries.

You glared at him as he finished speaking, as if to say, how generous of you.

From inside his vest, he pulls out the contract and holds it out to you.

“So, we have a deal?” he asked.

You sit up and take the paper, still avoiding his eyes. You seem to be reading it over, though your hold on it is lazy.

“… This still says you can fuck me at least once a week if you want to, or else I’m not allowed to leave the building,” you said, “Did you really think I wasn’t going to notice shit like that?”

He laughed a bit awkwardly.

“I mean, I did say I would like you to be at least a little cooperative,” he said, crossing his legs, “We could wait a little while if you’d like. I mean, you’d still have more freedom than you do now, even with that minuscule restriction. You should know by now that I’m a patient man.”

You stare at it again, forehead wrinkled.

“You know what… I see where you’re coming from,” you said, finally making eye contact, “Tic for tac, eh?”

“That’s a crude way for you to put it,” he said.

You shrug.

“Crude or not, it’s the truth,” you said, a sardonic smirk appearing on your face, “You want me to give a little to get a little.”

Before he could say anything you hold up your hands with more energy than he’s seen you have in days.

“No, no, no! I understand. I’ve been in hell long enough to know how people like you work. I get where you’re coming from, I really do. I’m not stupid! So trust me, I’m being completely serious when I say that I think you should take this lovely contract of yours and shove it up your glowing blue ass!” you ripped it in half on the last word, your smile still present but a nasty look in your eyes.

Vox felt his eye twitch as you continued to smirk at him, tossing the paper at him like you would throw trash across the room. You then lie back down and turn back to the TV, ignoring him again as if the last few minutes hadn’t even happened at all. Though you were attempting to pull your face back into the blank expression of earlier, he could see in your eyes a mixture of emotion, rage, yes, but also a certain smugness. What, did you really think you were tough shit for mouthing off to him like that?

He felt like his head was going to explode. Before he even registered how he was reacting, he had grabbed you by the hair and was pulled you back over.

“Ow! What the hell are you doing, Vox?” you yelled, the smug look gone from your eyes, “You’re hurting me!”

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you? I’m trying to be generous to you because I actually like you, but you know what? I’ve clearly spoiled you rotten already!” he fumed.

He was practically seeing red as he dragged you over, causing you to yelp. You try to kick him, but he only grabs onto your ankle and pulls you closer to him, spinning you around so that you were pressed against the back of the couch, his arms on either side of you. His fingers are still gripping your hair, forcing you to turn your head towards him.

“You know, you’re right, who needs a contract?” he said, “I can do whatever the hell I want with you, and what are you going to do about it?”

Your voice cracked as you attempted to speak, but he didn’t pay any attention to what you were trying to say. He could feel his systems overloading with the amount of rage he was feeling, shouting over you.

“I hope you like the view from up here, because you’re staying here for the rest of your miserable eternal exist. You can work and live here 24/7,” he said, “Anything else we should change in the arrangement? You didn’t like the idea of fucking me once a week? Fine by me. Why not once a day? Twice a day? Every hour? Would you like that better? Huh? Answer me!”

As he finished speaking, he finally heard what you were saying, “-m sorry! I’m sorry, please, stop!

As he heard your pleading, he felt himself being brought back down to earth. While his rage was still present, your begging brought him back to reality, and it was finally registering how upset you were. Hysterical. Terrified. You were sobbing, more afraid of him than he had ever seen you, even on the worst days of your fighting.

“D-d-don’t hurt me. I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry! Please, don’t hurt me!”

He released your hair with a rapid exhale, and you automatically moved your head away from him, arms shielding your face. Shaking, it was sinking in just emotionally distraught you were, as well as the damage he had done to the couch. He hadn’t even noticed he had been digging his claws into the polyester, a row of gnashes beside your head. The situation was completely getting out of control. He pushed himself off of you and turned away. He didn’t even say anything, just left the room and went through the wires to his office. His head was overheating, and he was going to crash at this rate if he didn’t calm down.

Damn it! He hated how out of control you made him feel. It was pathetic. There was only one other person he could think of that made him get near as frustrated as he was feeling with you at the moment. He wasn’t the kind to act out, and here he was acting almost as ridiculous as his business partner did. The only saving grace was that Vox at least tried to keep his infatuation as quiet and private as possible.

It was more than his emotional irregularity though. The fact that he felt this way at all about you was humiliating. Affection, fondness, it was a weakness, and he knew it. Valentino got away with just having simple lust and taking what he wanted, but genuine affection demanded gentleness and tenderness. It was beyond him just not being able to do as he pleased with you, he didn’t want to. He wanted you to come to him willingly. It was the thing holding him back from just hypnotizing you into his arms or using a “love” potion, and now he had probably set any progress towards your affection back significantly.

He rubbed his forehead, which was starting to cool down a little. What was going on up there? He was going to end up doing something rash, something he regretted, if he didn’t get things under control and under control fast. Something needed to be done, but he didn’t know what. Nothing had gone how he had wanted it to. He would need to rethink his approach.

---

You spent a long time shaking on the couch, arms and blanket wrapped around you, crying. You were an idiot. Clearly your brain was turning to mush just sitting around the house all day. Did you actually think you’d be able to get away with speaking like that to an Overlord of Hell?

There had to be a way out of this place. Had to. But the more you thought about it, the more impossible it felt. Even if you did manage to get out of the building in one piece, Vox had this entire city under constant watch. Every corner of Pentagram City was crawling with his tech and media. It would take minutes if not seconds for him to find you and bring you back by force. At this point, maybe you should just sign a contract with the douchebag. Surely, he’d get bored of you eventually, right? Maybe if you got lucky he’d even get killed off one of these days in an extermination, and you’d be off the hook completely.

But how long would that take? Decades? A century or two? What if he never tired of you? Eternal death or not, you didn’t want to spend that much time living and sleeping with some psycho you hated. No. That wasn’t an option. You weren’t going to do that. But what then? You had thought he was going to literally rip your head off just a few minutes ago for telling him no. You were pretty sure things weren’t going to get less volatile around here if you kept rejecting him.

You wiped at your tear soaked face with a tissue and tossed it across the room. It’s light material just sent it floating to the ground though. It looked as pathetic as you felt.

“Damn it,” you cursed, smashing your head into a throw pillow and lying back down, “I hate this fucking place.”

#yandere x reader #vox #vox x reader #yandere vox #yandere hazbin hotel #Eh I can't believe I wrote this and actually published it for people to read.

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fangirl-dot-com · 9 months ago

Text

Chapter 21 - Collision of Worlds

feels like forever since I've updated and I am so sorry for that. I had so many projects but thankfully I passed them all! So little celebration chapter!

I added a bunch of past ideas from you readers as you wanted to see a few more things before the work wraps up (like media day and one of the incorrect quotes from that chapter).

Happy news is that Chapter 22 is already done and written as well so that will be out soon as well!

Like always comments, questions, concerns, messages to my inbox, reblogs and likes are always appreciated!

Please enjoy!

Wednesday Afternoon:

You were hunched over laughing as you saw Max walk into the Paddock on Wednesday afternoon. The blond wig was definitely not on correctly, but no one seemed to care as cameras flashed on his figure. A shy grin was displayed on his face as he walked closer.

“Happy media day?” he questioned as he met up with you.

You took one more look and started to wheeze, which in return made him laugh as well – almost making the wig fall off.

“Trying to look like the better Red Bull driver?” you asked, pulling at the blond strands. Max quickly took it off.

He let out a dry laugh, before speaking in a sarcastic tone. “Sure. That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“What are we even doing today?” you managed to ask through your giggles.

Max looked around with a questioning look. “Christian told me that we’re have a driving competition.”

Speaking of, Christian suddenly appeared with a team of videographers and other employees. Two of them behind him were pulling contraptions that made you start to laugh even harder.

Somehow, they had gotten their hands on two children’s cars and had painted them in the RB colors. You walked over, slapped the plastic, and started to laugh harder once again. Max could only giggle watching you lose it over something so simple. But, then he guesses that you might not have had a smaller toy car as a kid.

Max stood next to his. He was lucky that his car was opened roofed or he would have never fit inside.

The media worker spoke up once the two of you stood next to the respective cars.

“The game is simple. Just a lap around to that tree.”

He pointed at a tree in the distance. Thankfully the entire way there was paved. Well, you were racing in the paddock.

“The bottom of the cars are cut out so you’ll have to use your feet to get going.”

You gave Max a smirk before sticking one foot in and then the other. It was a tight squeeze, but you weren’t one of the shortest drivers for nothing. You were thankful the floor was cut out or your head would be in between your knees. You looked over at Max and lost it once again.

You couldn’t even see his body, just his head sticking out the open top. You leaned your head against the mini wheel.

Max lifted his hand and called out, “Can I have a head start since she can’t stop laughing?”

You looked over at him. “Be quiet. Not my fault you look like a giraffe.”

Christian was the one to tell you two to go, and it was on. Since you were smaller, your feet had more room to move back and forth. But, you sadly wore sandals for media day, and they didn’t have much traction.

Whereas Max had little room to move his feet, but his tennis shoes were much more grabby on the concrete.

You were able to take the inside of the tree while Max had to go far around the outside. Coming out of the turn, you went a bit wide to cut him off and bumped his car. Max bumped you back and you retaliated with a bigger bump as the finish line was approaching. Well, you never looked back and missed that his car tilted over, with him still in it.

Once you crossed the finish line, you got out and finally turned to see him still knocked over. You crouched as you began to wheeze once again. Christian had to go over to him and set the Dutchman upright.

The video people swarmed around Max once he got out.

One of the men smirked as he pointed a microphone at Max.

“Max, what happened with the race?”

Max looked over at you still hunched over and smirked.

“Ah it’s so unfair. I’m leading, she pushed me, I push her back, and after she pushed me off the track. It’s unfair?”

Everyone around him was giggling into their hands at his statement. Even before you had bumped him, Charles had somehow gotten close to watch it. He was also hunched over with hands on his knees, laughing his ass off.

You had stood upright and were wiping off tears from your eyes. The man who “interviewed” Max had come over to you as you stepped closer.

“Y/n what happened with Max?”

You quickly pulled your hair over your eyes a bit before speaking.

“Nothing. It was just an inchident…on the race.”

That did it and everyone started to laugh out loud.

Now it was time for Charles to walk over to the duo. He had somehow gotten a hold of the blond wig as well, and it was sitting on his head.

You looked over and tried to compose yourself. “Why is everyone trying to be me today?”

Charles had a sassy look on his face. “Well, if you can be me – I can be you.”

Your eyebrows raised before you yanked the wig off.

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing just an inchident...

tagged: maxverstappen1, y/n.89, and charles_leclerc

liked by redbullusa, landonorris, box_box_express, and 205,204 others

y/n.nation the entire video had me rolling

lestappenlove not y/n pulling out "the inchident" - had me in stitches

y/n.89 I wanna know why everyone was trying to be me today, obviously I'm the best blond here

maxverstappen1 do you not see the pictures? I'm pretty sure I look best charles_leclerc back away peasants, we all know who looks best here landonorris I hope you're not meaning you and your ramen noodle hair

formula1fan where did Red Bull even get the cars (are they available for purchase?)

redbullcan no fr I want one

best_rookie89 Silverstone always brings out the best in everyone

Thankfully after that you were done with any games. Yet, to yours and Max’s chagrin, you had lots of interviews to go to.

Max gave you a thankful look when you took the podcast while he took the live interview. You knew that he really did have a distain for podcasts. You made him promise though that he’d bring you a can of Red Bull after you were done. It was easy enough.

You were led to a small room with the host already sat down. He stood when you entered and shook your hand.

“I’m so glad that we’re able to do this today. My name is Sam and I’ll be asking you a few questions today,” his British accent rang out. It was a nice comfort as it was the Silverstone Grand Prix this weekend.

You sat down and put the headphones on.

Sam pulled out a few note cards and then did the intro.

“Hey everyone, it’s Sam back with the ‘Stay In The Box-Box Podcast’ and I am graciously joined by who everyone is dubbing the greatest rookie to every enter Formula 1, Y/n L/n.”

He gave you a cue to speak into the mic.

“Hello everyone! I’m glad to be here today!”

The questions were simple enough. How has Red Bull been treating you? What are your aspirations for the team? What is it like having Max Verstappen as a teammate? And so on.

A question though, caught you by surprise.

“I know that you, along with anyone who watches F1, have been waiting for your first win. What track would you love to win at and why?’

You thought for a moment before you gave an answer.

“Well, to be honest, I’d be happy with anything. But, if I had to pick anything, I’d go with Monza or Las Vegas.”

Sam leaned into his mic. “Wow, the home of the Tifosi. You really have your ambitions.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Doesn’t everyone? Winning at Monza, especially winning in my godfather’s country, would be a privilege. I know that Ferrari fans would love to see Charles or Carlos win there, but that track seems to be an open door for a lot of racers. Take Pierre for example. Monza was his first race win. Daniel won there in his first year at McLaren and gave Zac Brown his first win as a Team Principle.”

You took a sip of the water that they had given you.

“And then you go back to Charles who won his second ever race there, earning him the nickname of Il Predestinato. It seems to be a track that likes the underdogs. It’s fast and relatively shorter. They don’t call it the Temple of Speed for nothing. It’s a track that you have to earn respect for.”

Sam looked genuinely happy with your answer, and moved on to the second track you mentioned.

“Ah Vegas. I don’t know. There I drove the RB19 for the first time and was introduced as part of the Red Bull family there. It would be like a homecoming for me if I was able to win there. And it’s Vegas, who wouldn’t want to win. I know that Danny would be sad to lose.”

Sam nodded, taking your answers in. There were a few more questions before he announced a game – guess that tune.

The first tune came and you immediately pressed the button.

You leaned into the mic. “August by Taylor Swift.”

A ding sounded, letting you know you got it right.

The next was also almost immediate.

“Monaco by Bad Bunny.”

A few of the songs you didn’t know, but most of them were immediate.

You shrugged when Sam asked how you knew so many. The answer was simple.

“I listen to a lot of genres and I’m chronically on TikTok. Other than like hard rock or heavy metal, I’ll listen to it.”

A few more sounded.

“As it Was by Harry Styles.”

“In the Kitchen by Rene Rap.”

“Feather by Sabrina Carpenter.”

“Beautiful Things by Benson Boone.”

The last song, you knew it but didn’t know the artist.

Your eyebrow raised. “I know it’s the credit song from Cars 2. Uhhhhh, Collision of Worlds?”

Sam smirked at your hesitation. “Do you know who it is by?”

You shook your head.

“It’s by Brad Paisley and Robbie Williams.”

You threw your hands up before pointing at Sam. “I’ve been trying to tell Logan that it is legit the song that perfectly sums up his and Oscar’s friendship.”

Sam leaned back for one more question.

“Who do you think will win this weekend?”

Your head tilted.

“Lando Norris. The McLaren’s have been super-fast the past couple of races. I have a feeling about this one. Place your bets now, Lando is going to get pole.”

“Thank you so much for your time today.” Sam stood up to shake your hand. He also gave you some sheet of papers. You thought they were just pre-scripted questions for captions.

redbullracing has posted

redbullracing ah, nothing like finishing media day with a can from our stocked fridge

liked by stayinthe_boxboxpod, redbullcan, y/n.nation, and 248,029 others

y/n_updates the middle is a live picture from inside y/n's house. girl was drinking it like water before she even signed

verSTOPpen max looked so uncomfortable, glad he didn't get signed to the podcast lol

maxmaxmax_super he always looks miserable on media day

y/n.89 how did a picture of my apartment get in here?

arthur_leclerc and where is your water? y/n.89 no comment.

stayinthe_boxboxpod it was lovely having you on the show! hope that our notes are sufficient :)

y/nxarthur did the host know that she's a TAKEN woman yn/&co I know right? she honestly looked uncomfy when the dude wouldn't take a hint

silverstonecircuit see you all on sunday!

You shook his hand and left to meet up with Max, who was waiting for you in the garage with two cans of Red Bull. You graciously took one and snapped the can open. Max took the papers from you and looked through them.

“What are these?” he questioned.

You shrugged, not fully involved in the conversation as you had your phone out, texting Arthur who couldn’t make it this race.

Max suddenly started laughing, making you look at him.

“What is it?”

He turned the papers around. There, on the top of the second page was a phone number with a note and badly drawn winky face. The note said, “Call me if you need a break from your ‘boyfriend’.”

Your mouth was wide open as Max kept laughing. You grumbled to yourself as you plucked that note from the stack and walked into Christian’s office, not knowing that Toto was in there for a meeting.

You didn’t even look at the two bewildered men as you looked around the floor.

“Where’s your paper shredder?” you questioned, walking around to the back of his desk.

Christian gulped before answering, “To the left.”

A soft ‘ah’ left your lips as you finally found it. It left out a weird noise as you booted it up, still completely oblivious to the other team principal in the room.

You had a fire in your eyes as you watched the number be ripped to shreds by the machine. You would have let out an evil laugh, but you didn’t want to bother Christian more than you already were (even though you completely missed that he was in a meeting).

Once you were done, you stood up and left. As you walked out the door you simply said, “Thanks dad,” and shut the door.

Only when the door shut completely, you realized what you had said. Your cheeks heated as you quickly walked back to Max.

Behind the door, Toto was staring straight at the Briton. Christian had a shocked face as Toto smirked at him.

Christian breathed out. “Wouldn’t be the first time a driver to do that.”

“Tell me about it. George just started.”

“I need to tell Geri.”

Your face was buried in Max’s chest as you poured out your sorrows to him. He smirked as he rubbed your back, knowing that he’s done the same multiple times before.

“And I called him dad.”

Toto had left and Christian was talking to Geri.

“And she called me dad!”

y/n.jpg has posted

y/n.jpg his

liked by kellypiquet, francisca.gomez, arthur_leclerc, and 403,295 others

ynsfav UHHHHHHHHH HELLO??? NOT A GOOD MORNING??

y/n&co baby girl has to show that she's taken

rookies_secretbf I bet he makes her feel so good

olliebearman mom, there are children on this app btw

y/n.jpg sorry son, but boys need to know that mom has a man

maxverstappen1 I would say take it down

y/n.jpg but? maxverstappen1 GAGGED HIM (did I do it right?) y/n.jpg perfect

francisca.gomez hot

y/n.jpg learned it all from you

y/n.nation that middle picture tho

Sunday Afternoon:

You basically tried to ignore Christian for the rest of the weekend, but he eventually pulled you to the side to talk to you.

“Kid, I couldn’t count the amount of times that Max has called me dad on my two hands and feet. I’m more than fine with it.”

“Promise?” you looked up at him with tears in your eyes. He gave you a kiss on your forehead (in place of Arthur because he knew you missed him).

“I promise. Not get in your car. It’s race time.”

Starting Grid:

Lando Norris

Max Verstappen

Y/n L/n

Oscar Piastri

Carlos Sainz

Charles Leclerc

Lewis Hamilton

Pierre Gasly

George Russell

Daniel Ricciardo

Fernando Alonso

Yuki Tsunoda

Alex Albon

Esteban Ocon

Logan Sargeant

Valtteri Bottas

Kevin Magnussen

Nico Hulkenberg

Zhou Guanyu

Lance Stroll

Turns out Lando did get pole and you and Max were basically a McLaren sandwich. You knew that every move had to be strategically done. The McLarens were on another level. And with Oscar’s defensive moves and Lando’s overtaking skills, you and Max were in a pickle.

Throughout the race, it was like a dance. You’d be overtaken, or Max would overtake – and then you’d switch. Along the way, someone spun out, scrunching everyone up during a safety car.

You were on fresh tyres while Max went in to pit.

Mitch came over your radio. “So they’re cleaning up the mess that is Daniel Ricciardo and Logan Sargeant. You’re on new tyres and ahead of Max. Keep position.”

“There’s only like 10 laps left right? Do you think I could get around Lando?”

“Negative. We’re just going for a 2-3. This is plan 2-1.”

Your heart raced at the thought of having a pit of priority over Max.

David Croft voiced his opinions.

“Looks like Red Bull has given their drivers the 2-1 plan with rookie Y/n L/n having priority for a P2 position. In just under 10 laps left, Max Verstappen needs to gain 2 positions to be on the podium. And there goes the safety car with just 10 laps to go.”

You kept your head straight as you defended against Oscar. Max had Charles to go around and then the Australian.

Lando was slowly pulling away from you, so you needed to keep pressing. It wasn’t the photo finish like in Austria, but it was close.

“AFTER 5 SEASONS, 2 POLE POSITIONS, 6 FASTEST LAPS, 13 PODIUMS, 633 CARRIER POINTS, LANDO NORRIS IS THE WINNER OF THE 2024 BRITISH GRAND PRIX. WITH FASTEST LAP AND POLE POSITION, HE MAKES IT A GRAND SLAM AT HIS HOME RACE. HE’S SHOWING MCLAREN THAT THEY DID THE RIGHT THING BY KEEPING HIM AND PUTTING TIME INTO HIS CARRIER.

Y/n L/n comes in with her 8th podium finish of the season. Max Verstappen follows her in to make it a Red Bull 2-3 and completes the podium for Silverstone 2024.”

Race Results

Lando Norris – 26 points (+fastest lap)

Y/n L/n – 18 points

Max Verstappen - 15 points

Oscar Piastri – 12 points

Charles Leclerc – 10 points

Lewis Hamilton – 8 points

Carlos Sainz – 6 points

Alex Albon – 4 points

George Russell – 2 points

Valtteri Bottas – 1 point

Yuki Tsunoda

Zhou Guanyu

Kevin Magnussen

Pierre Gasly

Nico Hulkenberg

Fernando Alonso

Lance Stoll

Esteban Ocon

Daniel Ricciardo – DNF

Logan Sargeant – DNF

Champions Standings

Max Verstappen – 259 points

Charles Leclerc – 212

Lando Norris – 181 points

Y/n L/n – 142 points

Carlos Sainz – 97 points

Oscar Piastri – 80 points

Lewis Hamilton – 79 points

Alex Albon – 43 points

George Russell – 38 points

Fernando Alonso – 35 points

Logan Sargeant – 29 points

Daniel Ricciardo – 23 points

Lance Stroll – 15 points

Pierre Gasly – 12 points

Yuki Tsunoda – 8 points

Valtteri Bottas – 1 point

Nico Hulkenberg

Kevin Magnussen

Zhou Guanyu

Esteban Ocon

Constructors Standings

Red Bull – 401 points

Ferrari – 309 points

McLaren – 261 points

Mercedes – 117 points

Williams – 66 points

Aston Martin – 50 points

Alpha Tauri – 31 points

Alpine – 12 points

Alpha Romeo – 1 point

HAAS – 0 points

You watched as Lando climbed out of his car and just stood on the nose, hands outstretched and pointing at the crowds. Your eye caught the Union Jack and you raced over to grab it. You lifted it high as you tapped Lando’s leg before handing it to him. You could see his blue-green eyes lighten up at the prospect of waving his country’s flag.

You took a couple of steps back and went to congratulate your own teammate.

Your hands met in a clasp.

“Glad to see you made it to the party.” You grinned as you slid your helmet off. Max followed in suit.

The Dutch driver’s hands started to wave around. “Yeah. Didn’t think I had it but then Oscar left just the right amount of space,” his fingers nearly pinched together. Your head leaded back as you laughed.

Max watched as Lando jumped into the arms of the McLaren team but then watched you watched them as well. He nudged your shoulder.

“It’ll be you soon enough.” He heard a huff, but he knew you were listening.

You took one last look at Lando before heading to the cool down room. Your water bottle was immediately in your hand and brought to your mouth. Lando and Max walked in a few moments later. You gave Lando a side hug as he stood next to you.

Whispering, you told him, “You drove so well today. Knew you could do it.”

“Thanks bug.”

When the three of you were called to go to the podium, Max told the Briton, “I’ll try not to break your trophy.”

Lando’s head leaded back as he let out a groan.

“It was one time! One time Max!”

landonorris has posted

landonorris words cannot express the feelings that I have right now. I've been waiting for this moment to arrive and I never thought that it would be at my home race of all places. thank you to the team and to Oscar who held off two of the strongest drivers I have ever raced against. and thank you max for not breaking my trophy

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, and 703,204 others

lnfour THAT'S OUR BOY

mclarenfan silverstone 2024 winners merch when??

lanno_norris I knew this day would come!!

lando.norizz lando win before gta 6 and before the next ferrari champion ferrari&mclaren_fan that was harsh bro

carlossainz55 congrats cabron, sorry I couldn't be up there with you

carlando MY CARLANDO HEART CANT TAKE THIS STOP

y/n.89 great job lanno! so so proud of you :D

landonorris thanks bug

lewishamilton congrats mate!

lanoscar I needed this today

redbullracing has posted *guys pretend that the third picture is reader ok???*

redbullracing from past to present, lando has been there. congrats landonorris - we'll get you next time

liked by y/n.89, mclaren, papaya_fan, bothshades_oforange, and 503,204 others

redbullcan stop stop stop not a post making me sob

y/n.nation no way that is y/n - look how much younger she is

y/n_on_top what the heck? she knew lando??

redbull+mclaren what in the? my favs on the podium and they all were connected some how??

y/nand_taylor some might say...invisible string? y/nxarthur yeah he is not the boyfriend, but keep dreaming tho :D

y/n.89 ohhhh so you're the one that spooked my horse

landonorris so you're the one that hit me coming off the elevator y/n.89 I plead the fifth maxverstappen1 he just needs to admit that he's our biggest fan

bestrookie89 this weekend was a whirlwind - what even

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @agent-curt-mega @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @cashtons-wife @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri

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writeonwhiskey · 5 months ago

Text

the skz house: ch 19 (18+)

a/n: thank you @bahablastplz for editing! i appreciate you 🩵 and thank you, readers, or your patience.

[ read chapter 18 here ]

Chapter 19: Of Christmas & Chokers

Over the next few days, the comfortability between you and Chan deepens. Whether you’re in the room or out being tourists, you remain almost glued together—holding hands, sitting on his lap, hugging each other, kissing. Your conversations flow naturally and without tension. In an alternate universe, perhaps this would have been an ideal trip for a couple in love. As delusional as you may have become in believing this could be a new normal, you keep one foot grounded in reality. Well, maybe not the whole foot…but at least a pinky toe.

Your days are packed with several activities such as a nighttime ATV ride, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. You both have the time of your life letting loose. Speeding, swerving, screaming at the rush of it all. You’ve never seen Chan smile so much. He is different when he’s free of the responsibility of being Chapter President…he’s carefree. You tell yourself regardless of how this ends, you’ll be glad you at least got to see him like this.

You go to a local amusement park where Chan is determined to make you face your fear of rollercoasters. However, after the second ride leaves you nearly in tears, Chan puts that mission to rest.

You venture back out on the water on a jet ski. Chan lets you do most of the driving that day, but you soon realize it’s a set up. When you’re far out enough from the beach, his hands on your hips find their way between your legs. He kisses your neck and tells you to turn off the jet ski. He fucks you with his fingers until you come, whispering in your ear how hard his cock is and what he plans to do to you later.

One of the days while you and Chan are out, the hotel staff add holiday decorations around the room, including a small, 4ft tree in the corner near the balcony windows. It makes you squeal with glee upon seeing it. You assume it’s all the hotel’s doing. Lee Know wouldn’t have done something so nice. Would Chan? He doesn’t claim it, if he had put them up to it. It doesn’t matter, though, it makes you happy to see and feel more of the holiday spirit.

When Christmas Eve comes around, there’s a break in the itinerary since a lot of places are closed for the holiday. You wind up sleeping in quite late for your standards and when you finally open your eyes, Chan is wide awake in the bed next to you. He’s sitting up, back against the pillows, laptop in front of him and headphones covering his ears. He’s consumed by whatever he’s doing, but as soon as you turn to face him, his eyes shift from the screen to you.

“She has risen,” he jokes, moving one headphone away from his ear.

“I needed that,” you reply, stretching beneath the blankets. “How long have you been up?”

“A while,” he says with a shrug. “Just working on our chapter project.”

You smile inwardly. Typically, his response would have finished with ‘a while’, you would have had to dig and pry for any further information. He, for now at least, is freely providing you with further details.

“Chapter project?” you ask. You recall hearing him discuss it months ago, but never knew what it was.

“Just something we have to put together to memorialize the year,” he tells you. He turns the laptop so you can see the screen. You recognize the sight of a music program with tracks and layers but have no further understanding of it.

“Putting your minor to use?”

“Kind of. It doubles as my senior project for the minor, so that’s a plus.” He starts moving things around on the screen, opening a folder aptly titled ‘Chapter Project’. He clicks on a few files, opening them to show you as he speaks. “I want to incorporate songs I’ve worked on with different things from the other members—Hyunjin’s artwork for example.”

You know Chan is a good student. All of the members are, really, but you know some of them drag their feet and procrastinate until the last minute. You’ve caught Hyunjin, Changbin and Jeongin rushing to meet midnight deadlines more than once.

“Can I hear something?”

You sit up on the bed, back against the pillows like Chan. The blanket falls from your chest, exposing your breasts.

“Only if you put those things away,” he says, looking pointedly at your breasts, then up to your eyes, then back down again.

“What things?” you ask innocently, leaning back against the headboard and pushing your chest out even more.

Seizing the opportunity, Chan leans over and captures your nipple in his mouth. You let out a surprised scream as he bites down around it. You push him away, swatting his arm. You promptly pull the blanket up to cover them before holding out your hand for his headphones.

He hands them over with a smile, and you put them on. He shuffles a few things around on the screen before a video starts. You assume the graphics are of Felix’s design as it feels like something you’d see in a video game. A song accompanies the images and you’re surprised to hear Chan’s voice over a jovial sounding beat, followed by Seungmin, then Changbin. You didn’t know any of them could sing.

The video is only about a minute long but you feel dumbfounded when it’s over. You remove the headphones and pass them back to Chan.

“I like it,” you say with a smile. “It’s…surprisingly good.”

“You underestimating me?” he asks teasingly.

“My mistake,” you say sarcastically, placing a hand over your heart. “Is that a cover?”

“No, it’s an original song,” he tells you, turning the laptop back so it’s facing him. “Just waiting on Felix to finish rendering the rest of the graphics, then that one will be done.”

“You’re doing more?”

“A few more. It’ll be a mini-album.”

“Do I get a copy?”

“Hmmm…maybe. If you ask nicely.”

“Oh, never mind then,” you say nonchalantly.

Chan turns to look at you, biting his tongue between his teeth to keep from smiling as he nods.

“I’ll remember that.”

You slide down against the pillows, then turn on your side so you’re still facing him.

“I had no idea you guys could sing,” you tell him.

“Participating in choir was mandatory at our boarding school,” he shrugs. “We can hold a note.”

Chan is full of so many surprises. Most of them pleasant, these days. You want to uncover all there is to know about him, but you know you’ll never be given the time.

You cuddle up to him as he puts his headphones back on. You just lay there and watch him work, expertly navigating around the screen as he continues composing the song. You want to ask why he’s not majoring in music. You already know the answer to that, though. The choices for his future aren’t exactly his to make. His parents decided he would major in business, and sadly that’s all there is to it.

Your heart aches for him—you can see the work he put in to make something creative, the passion he has for it. And he can’t even pursue it.

It’s now 11:00pm and you and Chan have just returned to the hotel room. After dinner you both wanted to get out of the room for a bit and ended up at one of the only places open—the Magic City casino. The hours spent there are a bit of a blur. It was news to you that anyone playing at the tables or slot machines could get free drinks, so you both decided to indulge. Being so far from the hotel, though, Chan didn’t let either of you get too drunk.

As soon as you’re back to the room, Chan excuses himself to make a phone call and disappears out onto the balcony. You change into your pajamas—a pair of thin, loose fitting shorts and matching top—and return to the living room. You turn on the TV, stopping on the first channel you see playing a Christmas themed movie to entertain you while you wait for him to return. From all the food and drinks, you start to doze off until the sound of the heavy balcony door opening stirs you.

“Everything okay?” you ask when he comes back in.

“Mm,” is his reply, with a small nod of his head. “It’s Christmas day back home. I’m gonna get changed.”

You can only nod as well. His tone sounds a bit sad so you’re not sure what to say. Maybe he’s missing spending the holiday with his little brother and sister. And that makes you sad. It’s your fault he’s not with them.

Chan comes back into the living room clad in a plain black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. He sits down next to you and throws his arm around the back of the couch behind you.

All of your life you had never considered yourself to have a one-track mind but now? With Chan? Seeing him in those grey sweatpants puts one thing at the forefront of your mind, drowsiness and sadness pushed aside. You’ve got to get a hold of yourself.

“Should I open the bottle of wine the hotel left?” you suggest.

“Sure,” is his simple reply.

You stand and retrieve the bottle from the kitchen, along with two wine glasses. You pop the cork and fill both glasses before returning to Chan, handing him one.

“You sure everything’s alright? You seem a bit down…”

You don’t want the tension in the air to linger through the night and this trip has built your courage to address him this way.

“I’ll be fine,” he tells you with a soft smile. He clinks his glass against yours before downing his in one go. “You trying to stay up ‘til midnight for your present?”

You take a sip from your wine glass; happy he’s taking the initiative to change the subject to something lighter.

“I don’t see any presents under that tree,” you say, looking in the corner where the small tree is lit up.

“I haven’t put them there yet.”

“Them?”

As in multiple.

He nods.

“Oh no,” you say, a look of panic taking over your features.

You weren’t sure the two of you would even be exchanging gifts. Not only that, but you don’t feel like you truly know enough about him to get a well thought out present. And you love giving gifts. Hyunjin has a never-ending need for art supplies, so you immediately knew what to get him. You were completely puzzled when it came to Chan.

It was only after the staff added the tree that you thought it’d be nice for him to wake up with something under the tree. Being on vacation, though, you were in a bit of a predicament. All you really had convenient access to was the gift shop.

He must sense your apprehension.

“It’s okay if you didn’t get me anything,” he tries to appease you.

When the panicked look on your face turns into a frown, he takes the wine glass from your hand and places it next to his on the side table. He then pulls you into his lap so you’re straddling him and cups your face with both hands, stroking your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

“It’s fine,” he says in a sharper tone that makes you nod in acceptance.

“I would have never imagined I’d be spending Christmas Eve with you, let alone exchanging gifts,” you tell him, leaning your forehead against his. “From English classmates to this? Never in my wildest dreams.”

“That wasn’t our first class together,” he says matter-of-factly. He leans back against the couch and takes both of your hands in his, lacing his fingers through.

You furrow your brow at his statement. You wrack your brain for any other class you may have had with him but can’t come up with any.

“What? When?”

“Freshman year…Anthropology 101. In the lecture hall.”

You think back to freshman year and the classes you took. You did, in fact, take an Anthropology course. In a large lecture hall with something close to 100 other students, including your ex.

“I always sat in the back—you were always somewhere up front. Being a nerd, I guess,” he teases. You try to pull your intertwined hands from his to hit him, but he holds onto them tighter, bringing them to his chest. “You look cute when you’re focused, you know that?”

Your brain feels like mush. None of this is ringing a bell.

“Do you remember the presentation you did for extra credit? A family heirloom?”

Now that, you do remember.

“You were so nervous, but I swear it made you look even cuter. The way you talked about the heirloom…” he continues. “…your grandmother’s bracelet, I think it was…”

“Yes,” you say softly.

The bracelet your grandmother gave your mother, who then passed it on to you, and one day you’ll give it to your own child. It feels odd to hear Chan speak about it. Something so deeply personal to you. Granted, you did tell an entire class of strangers about it. But the fact that he remembers it, remembers you?

The fact that he’s known of you this long? Why hadn’t he mentioned it before?

“Why don’t I remember you being in that class?” you ask, struggling to process this new shared history and the words he’s just spilled about you simultaneously.

“It was freshman year…plenty of stuff going on and…your ex,” he shrugs.

He hits the nail on the head with that comment. That class is where you met him.

“You know, the first few weeks of the SKZ house before we bring anyone in?” Chan asks rhetorically, “I thought maybe I’d work up the nerve to talk to you while I could…but then he was there. Always sitting next to you. Even with the class we had this semester. I thought again, maybe it was a sign, you know? But he was waiting for you outside the door after the first class ended.”

You feel a pang of sadness, hearing that. Maybe in a different timeline if he had come talk to you, things would be different. You imagine getting to know a bright-eyed freshman Chan, eager and optimistic to take on the world. Maybe he would have opted out of having an assignee if it were possible, maybe he really could have been yours.

“I remember one of the last lectures you came in with your eyes all puffy,” he continues, disrupting that dangerous train of thought, “like you’d been crying. You didn’t sit anywhere near him that day. I always wondered what happened.”

You open your mouth to speak but close it immediately. What can you say to that? To any of this? Had he really paid such close attention to you? All this time?

“He used to treat you like shit, you know.”

At that remark, you set your lips in a firm line. You untangle your hands from his and cross your arms in front of your chest. It’s true, but hearing Chan say it hits too close to home.

“And you treated me any better?”

Chan takes in your closed off body language and a silence falls over you. Neither of you want this bubble you’re in to burst yet. Perhaps he’s regretting saying any of this at all.

“The day you showed up at our house…” he speaks up again after a while, “I felt sick to my stomach, y/n. Like the universe was playing some sick fucking joke on me.”

He places his hands on your thighs, squeezing and rubbing them.

“When it came time to choose assignees, I couldn’t let you end up with anyone else. I’ve never pulled rank like that before as the chapter president, but with you I had to…and I knew Hyunjin would be good for you, too.”

You shake your head in disbelief.

The day in the hot tub creeps back into your mind. When you told Chan that your time with Hyunjin had been great and he replied with ‘I know. I’m glad’. You didn’t fully understand it then. Now, it’s as if Chan knew the emotional rollercoaster he was going to send you on and wanted to make sure you had a harness. Hyunjin.

You let out a low breath and place your hands on top of your head, locking your fingers together. This is a lot to take in.

“So, your plan was to selfishly claim me and treat me like shit?” You ask after a moment.

“I wouldn’t call it a plan,” he says in a sad tone. “I knew that I was attracted to you and after our first few nights together I had to do something to keep boundaries in place.”

The conversation you shared on the beach clarified his drive for the spankings and edging. You understand his reasonings. You know that his sexual desires and fantasies with you are kept separate from his emotional connection to you. However, it’s confusing and frustrating to know he clearly felt something for you prior to you joining the SKZ House and still kept that brick wall firmly in place between you.

“So, you wanted to fuck me and still treat me like shit then?” You can’t help the bitter edge to your tone.

“I didn’t wanna get to close—clearly I’ve failed,” he admits. “It’s just always been in the back of my mind how long I’ve wanted you and now that I get to have you, there’s an expiration date.”

“What happens when we get back? You start treating me like that again?”

He averts his gaze from you.

“I don’t know how to—” he stops abruptly and shakes his head.

“Chan,” you say softly, reaching out to turn his head back to face you. “Please.”

“I don’t know how to be with you and be genuinely happy in this fucked up situation, y/n. I’m not gonna want it to end…but it has to.”

You sigh, resting your hands on his chest. As much as it hurts to admit, he’s right. You don’t like the thought of having to leave either of them. With Hyunjin, though, you know he will move on with ease which makes losing him slightly easier. Chan, on the other hand, after all the ground you’ve broken, the progress you’ve made…having to throw it all away will be hard. On both of you, you’re coming to realize.

But how else could you have gotten to know him? If you hadn’t shown up at the SKZ house, Chan would have once again had another assignee and not been able to interact with you anyways. Perhaps you both should at least be thankful for the time you’ve been given and enjoy it while you can.

“You can’t go back to being an asshole, Chan,” you tell him softly.

“I know.”

He grabs onto your hips and pulls you closer to him until you’re forced to lay against him. You rest your head on his shoulder as he wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly. You stay like that for a while, the movie playing in the background but neither of you watching it. You want to remember this moment, how it feels to physically and mentally be this close to him.

An alarm suddenly goes off on his phone and Chan quickly silences it. He cups one hand around the back of your neck to guide your head up. His brown eyes bore into yours, still lingering in this shared moment. You hold his face in your hands, staring right back, not backing down. It’s not an intense stare…more like one of silent pleading and unspoken questions. You bring your face to his and place a chaste kiss on his lips.

“Wait here,” he says, kissing you once more before sliding you off his lap.

He disappears into the bedroom and when he comes back, heads straight for the Christmas tree. He places two wrapped boxes under it and you mentally kick yourself again. You hadn’t even wrapped his. Even so, you can’t hide the smile that takes over your face at the sight and the thought he must have put into this.

“Should I get yours?”

“So you did get me something?” he asks with a smirk.

“I did…but seeing that,” you say, pointing to the neatly wrapped presents under the tree, “I don’t even want to give it to you anymore.”

“It’s fine,” he says again. “I’ll wait until tomorrow. Come pick one.”

You stand from the couch and walk over to him and the tree. Both boxes are square in shape, one larger than the other. You deliberate for a moment before reaching for the larger one. You sit on the floor and pull it towards you, surprised by its weight. You look up at Chan and when he doesn’t move to join you, you pull on his hand until he sits.

“Did you wrap this yourself?”

“I asked the housekeeper to help me out with it,” he tells you.

“Resourceful.”

He taps his temple with his pointer finger.

You start ripping away the wrapping paper to reveal a white box beneath. You can’t hold back your smile as you pull the top part of the box off. You set it aside and pull out the tissue paper. When your eyes land on what’s inside, your mouth drops.

A folded, white lab coat with your last name embroidered across the breast area sits on top. You reach out and run a finger across the stitching. It feels surreal to see.

“I figured you’d need it when you go off to vet school.”

You look up at him, still smiling. You will definitely need it. Along with several other items you were already wondering how you would afford, without having to ask your parents for even more money. That’s part of the reason you ultimately decided to join the SKZ house and save the money they were sending you. At least the majority of it would go towards the next steps in your education.

“Thank you, Chan.”

It’s a thoughtful gift. And you feel the guilt of your shitty gift building.

“There’s more…” he nods towards the box.

And the guilt continues.

You lift the lab coat out of the box and gently set it outside the box. The next item is a set of black scrubs, your name embroidered on the shirt as well. You left them out of the box and sit them on top of the lab coat. When your eyes land on the item at the bottom of the box, your jaw drops again.

You reach inside the box and retrieve the stethoscope. This was one of the pricier items you hadn’t been looking forward to purchasing. You bring it closer to inspect, smiling widely. You immediately recognize it as one of the more expensive brands. It, too, is engraved with your name around it.

You feel your eyes begin to prickle and you blink furiously, not wanting to cry, but you can’t help it. It’s a thoughtful gift. One that you’ll get to take with you when the year is over. A reminder of Chan you get to keep with you forever.

You slowly raise your eyes to look at him, shaking your head softly.

“You don’t like it?” he asks, “Is it not the right kind? I wasn’t really sure…”

“It is—it is,” you say, your voice cracking. You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand and clear your throat. “It’s perfect. It’s all perfect, Chan. Thank you.”

“Wanna test it out?”

Your smile returns at that and you nod, placing the ear tubes in your ears and sliding closer to him. He pulls you onto his lap once again, putting your legs on either side of him, your butt resting on his folded legs.

You grab the bell end of the stethoscope with one hand and pull at the hem of his t-shirt with the other, lifting it up. You then place the diaphragm end to his chest and he instantly moves back, grabbing your wrist.

“That’s cold doc,” he says, voice muffled and rumbling through the ear piece.

“Sorry, I’m a rookie,” you reply sheepishly.

You bring the diaphragm end to your mouth and breathe on it to warm it up before placing it back over his heart. The digital reader immediately lights up, reading his heart rate. But you’re not focused on it. You’re looking directly into his eyes, listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart. It’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

“Sounding healthy?” he asks.

You nod.

“Well, we should make sure the reading is accurate, too.”

He cups the back of your neck and pulls your face closer, bringing your lips to his. With his other hand, he holds your wrist and the stethoscope in place. You can hear his heartbeat quicken as you kiss. You grind your hips against his, causing the steady thumping in your ear to beat faster. You want to get lost in the sound of his body’s reaction to you.

He uses his hand on your back to assist your grinding, making sure you can also feel his body’s reaction to you.

Not wanting to jeopardize the safety of your present, you break the kiss and pull the ear tubes out. His hand drops from your wrist allowing you to turn and set the stethoscope neatly on top of the pile of the other presents behind you.

Before you can even turn back around, Chan is changing your position. He holds onto your back tightly as he lowers you down to the floor.

“I won’t write a negative review just yet—but you’ve got some learning to do, doc.”

You like to hear him call you that.

“I’m a fast learner,” you reply.

“Oh, I know,” he says with a wink.

He remains sitting in front of you, his legs still crossed, while you’re lying down. Your legs are draped over his thighs, feet on the ground on either side of him. He pushes your shirt up to expose your stomach and lightly runs his fingers in a zig-zag pattern all the way down until his hand is between your legs. The thin, pajama shorts you’re wearing are a loose fit and don’t do much to keep him out. Not that you’d want that.

He easily moves the fabric aside and his eyes snap to yours when he realizes you aren’t wearing any underwear.

“I only packed so many for the trip,” you laugh and shrug. “I can’t keep messing them up with you.”

He smirks and nods his agreement.

He slides his fingers up and down your slit, teasing your pussy until his fingers become saturated with your slick. He slowly inserts his ring and middle finger inside of you as he places his other palm on your lower stomach. You rock your hips against him in response. He curls his fingers, pressing against your inner walls each time he withdraws his hand, all the while applying steady pressure with his palm.

You can really feel his fingers rubbing against you, and you know he can too. His eyes are on his fingers pumping in and out of your pussy, then move up to your writhing body, then your face. A soft smile plays out on his lips as he watches your reaction. He adds his thumb on your clit into the mix and you let out a moan.

“Tell me what you want,” he coaxes.

You bite your lip between your teeth, arching your back. You’re too caught up in the sensations to formulate a response.

“You wanna come on my fingers?” he asks, slowing them down. “Or on my cock?”

You moan again.

“Both.”

“Greedy,” he says with a soft chuckle, still moving his fingers in and out at an achingly slow pace.

“Mmmm, yes. For you.”

Any part of him you can have.

He moves his fingers quicker, thumb still circling your clit. You sit up a little, placing your hands behind you to hold you up as you move your hips against his fingers.

He arches an eyebrow at this, a devilish smirk on his lips. He withdraws his fingers, and you protest with a whine and pout. He brings his fingers, coated in your slick, to your face and spreads it around your pouted lips. He watches closely as you lick your lips, then brings his hand to his mouth, sucking off the rest for himself.

The sight of him enjoying your taste always sends you off the rails. You grab a handful of his shirt and pull him to you until his lips are on yours. He seems a little startled, but he allows it. You kiss him, taste him, taste you.

Before you can have too much, he breaks the kiss but keeps his face against yours.

“I want you to open your other present now,” he says, lips brushing against yours as he speaks.

“Not in the morning?” you ask, catching your breath.

“No,” he says with a shake of his head. “I wanna see it on you now.”

He stretches to the side to retrieve the present and you wrap your arms around his waist to keep from falling back. He grabs it and returns to his upright position before handing it to you.

You take the present and rip the wrapping paper, much less delicately than you did the first. What could this be? He wants to see it on you? You’re excited to find out. You toss all bits of the paper behind you without a care until just the box is left. You lift the lid from the box and inside is what appears to be…a collar?

You look up to Chan with an arched brow and he just smiles widely, baring all his pearly white teeth. The part of the collar that rests on the back of the neck is black, with a belt buckle-like fastener. On the front is a thick, silver linked chain (much like the one he wears on his wrist) with a silver heart hanging from it. The heart itself has several tiny jewels spread evenly around it. The way they glitter in the light, you hope its cubic zirconia…but knowing how deep Chan’s pockets go, they might just be diamonds. You bring the heart closer for inspection and see the words 'Good Girl' engraved on it.

You’re not sure what to make of it. Both the cost, the phrase and the gift itself. He wants you to wear this? Like a dog?

He takes it out of the box and drapes it around your neck, moving your hair out of the way so he can fasten it in the back. You look up at him as he hooks a finger through the heart and tugs on it. Pulling, pulling, restricting until it’s taught against your throat.

Oh. Oh.

“This okay?” he asks.

You appreciate that he’s asking. You’re convinced you’d let him walk you through the street with it, so long as he asks first.

You close the distance between you, placing your lips on his to convey your consent. He tugs a little tighter on the collar as you kiss before releasing it fully.

In the next moment, your hands are on his shoulders, pushing on them until his back is now against the floor. He doesn’t resist at all.

You reposition yourself comfortably on top of him. You put your hands on his biceps, squeezing them tightly before sliding up his arms to his hands. You move them up above his head then lace your fingers between his, holding them in place as you kiss him. You grind your hips into his and he lets out a moan. You feel his hardening cock pressed between your legs. You grind against it more, sliding your clit along his length. Your kisses become quicker, sloppier, as you keep grinding on him.

He tries to move his hands, but you squeeze them tighter. He lets out a grunt and uses more force to break free—reminding you that he was allowing you to keep them there. He sits up and wraps one arm around you, pulling you close as he starts to stand up. You wrap your arms around his neck, legs around his waist. He walks you both back over to the couch.

He unhooks your legs and lowers you so you’re standing in front of him. He leans down and claims your lips again, but you want him undressed. You reach for the hem of his shirt and start pulling it up. You break the kiss to get it completely off his head and before he can kiss you again, you push him onto the couch.

You lift your shirt above your head and as you’re reaching back to unhook your bra, you give a pointed look to his sweatpants. He lifts his hips from the couch and pushes them down.

“Does it look good?” you ask, running your fingers along the collar as you kneel in front of him.

He licks his lips in anticipation, “Better than I imagined.”

You reach for his hand and bring it to the collar. He tugs on the heart again, tightening it around your neck. He wraps his other hand around the base of his cock and pulls you towards it. You drop your jaw and take him in your mouth.

He sucks in a breath, watching you lower your mouth on him. He releases the collar and leans back into the couch. You replace your hand with his at the base, stroking his dick as you bob your head up and down.

You alternate between stroking, sucking, taking it out and smacking it against your lips. He moans and groans, body jerking in response to your actions. You love seeing him like this.

You take him out of you mouth fully and continue stroking him, moving your mouth instead to take each of his balls in your mouth, in turn. You glance up to his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he lets out a deep breath.

“So,” you say, returning your attention to his cock, licking slowly around the tip. “You wanna come in my mouth or in my pussy?”

He looks down at you, only able to smile and shake his head at your use of his same words against him. He leans forward and grabs the heart of the collar once more, using it to pull you to him.

“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” he asks, kissing along your lips.

You giggle and nod playfully in response.

He leans back, pulling on the collar to bring you with him until you’re forced to stand again. His other hand slips between your legs and he rubs your pussy with his fingers.

“I wanna fill you up here.”

You moan against his lips, and he releases the collar. He lightly pushes against your chest, so you stand fully then motions to your shorts. You turn around, bend over and pull them down. You move to straighten yourself, but he lurches forward to stop you.

He puts a hand on your back to keep you bent over. In the next instant you feel his other hand collide with your ass and you let out a surprised yelp. He rubs the wounded area on the right and brings his mouth to the left cheek, placing a wet kiss to it. You feel his teeth dig into your skin, causing you to gasp. He smacks the right cheek again.

He shifts his mouth to the surely reddening cheek, placing another wet kiss there. It soothes the stinging a bit. He slaps the left check, his palm gripping your ass when it lands. He then immediately slides his fingers between your legs, slipping along your wet slit until they find your opening. He pushes his fingers inside, you don’t even know how many, but it makes you feel full.

“Mmmm,” you moan, pushing back against him.

“You’re dripping for me,” he says, lacing kisses along each cheek.

“Always,” you reply. And it’s the truth.

He takes his fingers out of you and places both hands on your waist, guiding you down to him. He positions himself at your opening and you roll your head back as he slowly lowers you on his cock. You remain still when he’s fully inserted, just basking in the feel of him inside you.

You make small movements with your hips first, moving forwards and backwards.

“Fuck,” he exhales, gripping your hips tighter.

You like the way he sounds when you’re pleasing him.

You plant your feet firmly on the ground, your hands on his knees. You start to move up and down, bouncing on him and drawing more delicious groans from him.

He uses his hands on your waist to lift you higher and bring you down even harder. You cup your breasts, pinching your nipples to add to the pleasure you’re feeling. You don’t know if you’ll ever get tired of his cock filling you up. Though, you won’t exactly have the opportunity to find out.

You try to push the thought aside, but you can feel it distracting you.

Chan notices as your rhythm becomes out of sync with his. He pulls you all the way down against him, then slides his hand up your stomach, between your breasts, all the way to your neck. He covers the collar with his hand and pulls you back against his chest. You keep circling your hips on him, not wanting to lose the momentum.

“You okay?” he asks softly in your ear.

“Yeah,” you reply, but it’s a lie. “I want to see you.”

He repositions both of you so you’re lying fully on the couch and he’s on top of you. He guides one of your knees up and hooks your leg over his shoulder as he enters you again.

“Like this?”

You offer a silent nod, sliding your hands up his bare, chiseled chest, locking your fingers together behind his neck.

He starts moving again and you feel him sliding in and out, and you find yourself unable to tear your gaze from his face. His eyes are locked on you too. This feels heavy, but neither of you comment on it. He turns his head to the side to place a kiss to the leg that’s slung over his shoulder, eyes never leaving yours.

Your hands leave his neck to roam through his hair, over his face, touching every part of him you can to commit to memory. You shift your mental focus to the way he feels, beneath your fingertips, his cock inside of you.

You want the Chan you’ve had for the past week for the rest of the time you have him. Open. Earnest. You try to convey this with your eyes as he continues thrusting in and out. He grabs your breast, squeezing it tightly and you part your lips and arch your back in response.

You don’t know if you’ll survive if he goes back to treating you like you don’t matter. You can’t let him do that to you. Can you?

“I know, I know,” he says in response to your unspoken qualms. He kisses your leg once more before releasing it to lay his body flat against yours. He wraps his arms around your head in a hug of sorts, as he continues his deep and steady strokes.

Chan isn’t fucking you tonight. He’s making love to you.

You slide one hand down to where the two of you are joined, finding your clit. He lifts slightly, allowing you more room to rub circles around it.

“Come on my cock, baby,” he commands.

You whimper at his words. Baby.

You rub your clit faster as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, still driving into you as deep as he can. He angles himself so that with each thrust his dick digs against your walls. It’s enough to drive you crazy. You’re whining, moaning, panting.

“Come for me,” he says again. “Come for me baby girl.”

Your hand on his chest goes for his throat. You squeeze your fingers around it and see his eyes darken, but he doesn’t stop you. He moves his hips faster, harder.

“Chan,” you pant, “please. Right there. Don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t.

He keeps the same pace, same angle, same motions until you’re arching your back and squeezing his neck, digging your nails into his delicate skin as you come around his cock. He grits his teeth, grunting and pounding into you furiously as he comes right after.

His movements slow as he finishes. You release his neck and wrap your arms around it instead. He lowers himself on top of you, all but smothering you with his weight but you don’t care. This is a happy way to die, if it comes to that.

You kiss along his collar bone as you both catch your breath. His cock keeps twitching inside of you and you clench the walls of your pussy around him each time it does. His body jerks each time you do it.

“Stop, stop,” he pleads, chuckling softly.

You chuckle in response.

That was different. In ways you hadn’t imagined possible with Chan. The two of you stay on the couch, wrapped up in each other for a while longer.

The following morning, you’re both woken up by a knock at the door. Chan, just as confused as you, climbs out of bed to answer it. You hear him talking to someone and he returns a few moments later.

“Another Minho surprise,” he tells you. “A couples massage.”

“That actually sounds amazing,” you murmur, pushing off the blankets.

You both go to the bathroom and brush your teeth. You put your hair up in a messy bun then go to the living room while Chan lets in the masseuses. There’s one male and one female. After setting up their massage tables in the open space between the couch and the TV, they leave for the hallway allowing you both some privacy to remove your clothing.

Chan watches you undress with a sly smile on his face, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You stick your tongue out at him and throw your pajama shirt at his face, but he dodges it and catches it in his hand. He folds it neatly and sets it on the couch before removing his own shirt.

When you’re both settled on the tables, they re-enter.

“You’re with me, sir,” you hear Chan say and lift your head.

He’s motioning for the male masseuse to come to him.

“I need firmer hands,” he adds.

But you know that’s not it. No other man outside of the SKZ House is allowed to touch you in the way the masseuse will need to. You know it’s because of that. But it still makes you feel warm inside to think Chan personally doesn’t want anyone else touching you.

After the massage, you and Chan shower together then order a late brunch. He opens his present that you are now extremely embarrassed to give him. When he pulls out the pair of neon blue swim trunks with “Miami Vice” written on it, you hide your face, and he immediately laughs.

“These are loud,” he says. “I’ll wear them to the beach tomorrow.”

Next, he pulls out a refrigerator magnet with “Miami” written across it with palm trees surrounding it.

“To be fair,” you say, wanting to explain, “I had no clue what to get you. You’re not exactly an open book.”

“That is fair,” he agrees. He looks at you with a soft smile, as if he wishes things had been different. He kisses your forehead. “Thank you anyways.”

You spend your final two days mostly relaxing and staying close to the hotel. You spend time at the beach again, Chan in his neon blue swim trunks and looking fucking delectable in them.

Getting on the plane to go home, you’re hit with an overwhelming sense of sadness. Chan’s behavior hasn’t changed yet, and you’re praying that it doesn’t. That even though you both know how this has to end; he can find it within himself to not push you out again. You lean on him and hold his hand for most of the flight back.

Changbin picks you up from the airport and Chan rides up front while you sit in the back. He asks how the trip was and you both reply that it was good. He then addresses Chan in Korean and you’re left clueless in the back seat. But whatever is said, you can feel the weight of it from Chan’s reaction. He leans back in his seat, slouches, and runs his hand through his hair.

You try not to think much of it, but it must be important. They don’t typically speak Korean in front of any of the assignees unless it’s about something that, to be frank, is none of their business.

The car ride is over far too soon, and they still haven’t filled you in on what’s happening.

Once in the driveway, you notice a black car parked in front of the house with a Rolls Royce emblem on the front. You immediately furrow your brow, curiosity and anxiety spiking through the roof at this point.

Changbin exits the car first. You remain planted in the backseat, waiting for Chan to say or explain anything.

He lets out a low breath and leans back against the headrest, eyes closed.

“My dad’s here,” he announces.

Your eyes open wide, and even more confusion sets in. Is it an unexpected visit? Is he not happy to see his father?

“You don’t want him to be?” you ask slowly, carefully.

“Well, it’s never exactly a cause for celebration when any of our parents show up,” he says dryly. “Just…stay out of his way.”

Chan opens his door and you follow in suit.

Changbin has pulled the luggage from the trunk, he’s holding the handle to yours and Chan grabs his own. You move to walk past them both, but Chan grabs your arm to stop you.

You turn to face him, trying to read his expression but a mask is in place.

“Chan,” you say, placing a hand to his chest.

A glint, a flicker of something crosses over his eyes and you see your Chan for a split second.

He kisses your forehead.

“After us. And then straight upstairs, okay?” he says softly.

You nod your head and wait for them to walk to the door first.

As soon as you enter the house, you can feel the commanding presence of his father. Your eyes are drawn straight to him on the living room couch, looking all business in a tailored black suit, black hair slicked back.

“Appa.” Chan says.

“Hello,” you say politely with a small bow at the waist.

You know he told you to go straight upstairs, but it would feel rude to pass by without speaking to him.

His father spares half a glance at you before staring daggers at his son.

Changbin heads for the stairs with your suitcase and you follow him. You look back at Chan and offer as encouraging a smile as you can muster. Chan doesn’t turn to look at you. He walks towards his father like a man heading to the gallows and the sight of him like that punctures your already fragile heart.

[ read chapter 20 here ]

a/n: oof. thoughts? feelings? a lot to unpack here. thank you all again for your patience! and sorry the tags still aren't working :(

#stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids #bang chan #bangchan fanfic #skz smut #the skz house #bang chan imagines #bang chan smut #stray kids smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n

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