#now I can even sleep on planes which is a goddamn miracle

[missgeniality]

A Date With Destiny (m)

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves, alone - we find it with another.” - Thomas Merton

➺ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Strangers to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Fluff, Smut, one comedian in the mix

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11k

➺ Summary: You are a boss lady in the tech industry travelling to world for work. He is a chart-topping artist touring the globe to perform in front of millions of fans. In the cosmos of life, you are not likely to cross paths. Luckily, fate has a different plan for you two.

➺ Warnings: dom!jk, unprotected sex (sex is cleaner when you pack your weiner!), hickeys galore, lot of spit, oral (male and female receiving), balls receive attention, throat fucking, cum eating, edging, masturbation kinda?, cum play, pussy slapping, pussy sniffing, fingering, squirting, spanking, pain kink?, tit slapping, reader teases a bit but this man is a tease maestro, cum stuffing (is that a thing even?), Jungkook’s THIGHS need their own warning

➺ Author’s Note: @ppersonna​​ is an angel among us peasants. Thank you so much for all your help with this!   This is my first attempt at writing, and the tiniest feedback goes a long way! Hope you enjoy! 

When you die, the first pit stop you make is to the coffee gods. 

Without coffee, this whole month would have been a disaster. Back-to-back meetings, daily flights, countless documents being read, it’s a miracle your eyes are open and fully functioning. 

Being the Chief Technical Officer of a well-established company at your age had been anything but a cakewalk. You had strived hard and crossed many boulders to come to where you are. But if reaching that point required huge amounts of effort, now your work is tenfold. 

“Why can’t I just get longer flights so I can nap in them?” You mumble into your nth cup of coffee - not keeping count is for your own sanity. 

“Because longer flights apparently have crying children. You, our resident baby-magnet hypothesized that shorter flights equal more time in hotel rooms ‘sleeping’. Guess who sleeps in said hotel rooms? Everyone but you.” Your personal assistant and part-time truth-spouter Jake offers helpfully. 

“Past me was such an idiot.” You shoot back, wondering if you could inject the espresso right through your veins.

Jake pouts. “Woman, you take on jobs that an intern could do. If you weren’t such an unnecessary perfectionist I would be on the beaches of Thailand, getting sensual massages and eating some pretty pussy. But here we are, on our way to Seoul. So quit your whining because clearly, I have lost more.” 

“What if I wanted to do that too?”

“Can I watch?” 

“Right.” And that was the end of the conversation. 

Passengers on flight KE654 from Bangkok to Seoul are requested to report for boarding at Gate 45A. First Class passengers will be boarded first, followed by Business class and lastly Economy. Please keep your boarding pass ready for checking.

Jake stands up, groaning. “This is where we say goodbye. Do you wanna pretend like we’re strangers and have a hot one-night stand when we land?” 

“Sometimes I think it’s your natural response to flirt with a breathing being. Do you ever accidentally just, you know, flirt with a tree?” You try to sound sarcastic, but you’re genuinely curious. 

“If a day comes when a hot specimen like me has to flirt with a tree, humanity is doomed. Catch ya later!” He blows you a kiss before leaving for the restroom. You shake your head in awe, a small smile finding your lips. He knew how to get your mind off things.

For all his flirting, Jake’s interest in you is perfunctory. He looks after you, keeps you from starving or gouging your eyeballs out, and calms you when things are too hard. He’s seen your worst. You’ve seen him drunk out of his mind, bailed him out when he “accidentally” smoked up, and heard every new pick-up line his ingenious brain churned out. Basically, you’ve seen his worst as well. 

You take a look at your boarding pass. 3C. Jake would be in business class, and you in first. Not your choice, the company makes the rules. It's for the better, he says. Apparently, he can ‘prowl for his hunt better’, without your judgmental glare. You nearly vomit on him just for his choice of words.

Entering the flight, you stash away your hand baggage the first place you find the room and head to your seat and-

Holy. Shit.

Jeon Jungkook is sitting on your seat.

Jeon Jungkook is on your flight? 

BTS is on your flight? 

What are the odds?

Granted, you’re not a 16-year old obsessive fan, collecting photocards and waving light sticks through the screen, but even in your adulthood you’ve admired their music and shows, routinely keeping up with their discography. 

Hell, you even learned Korean years ago to better understand their songs. Maybe you are an obsessive fan.

But you can’t approach them like that. They no doubt want some privacy and not be recognized. God forbid you approach Jungkook with crazy eyes, just to be escorted off the plane for stalking. While you liked their work, you had your own, and getting thrown off this flight does not help you there.

So, you’re just gonna have to speak to him like just another passenger. 

BTS who? 

Biggest boyband who? 

You only listen to Frank Sinatra. 

“Excuse me?” You call out, a shiver of a whisper leaving your lips. You immediately chastise yourself for being so star-struck.

Big, round eyes glitter under the bucket hat. The softest ‘huh’ throws a lasso over your heart, and holds it captive. He adjusts his hat, inked fingers making a brief yet lasting appearance. The epitome of tenderness, you muse as his eyes flit here and there to figure out the situation. After finding no one to help him out, he gently offers “Yes?”

You feel extremely guilty for marring his serene face with creases of trouble. “I think this is my seat. See, 3C.” you say, pointing to the seat and then to your ticket for good measure. Did he suspect you recognize them? No. Do you look like you’re over-gesticulating? Totally. 

“Oh.” His brow distresses further, the sight has you ready to give the man your seat and hide in the bathroom for the rest of the flight. “But even I am 3C.”

His ticket shows the same characters as yours. 

Huh?

With both your faces contorted in confusion, an air hostess comes forward to help. 

“We both are booked on the same seat. How does that happen? Do I need to catch another flight?” You suddenly pour out, remembering the countless commitments you have in Seoul that would go down the drain if you don’t make it by tonight.

She's quick to reassure you. “Do not worry ma’am, I’m sure there must have been an error in the printing. I’ll be right back.” At the same time, Jungkook is approached by someone, probably one of their staff, to discuss the issue.

The air hostess returns smiling. “Ma’am, you both were booked on the same seat but this adjacent seat was left empty. We are extremely sorry for the error. You may take 3B.” She reiterates the same message to Jungkook in Korean, who then looks mighty relieved. 

Goddamn, his eyes got bigger. How much bigger can they get?

“All okay then?” He glances sideways, smile irradiating your senses and waking you up better than all the coffee could. 

“All good. Sorry for the trouble.” You add, even though it isn’t your mistake in any way.

“No no. No trouble” He beams back. 

Aw, you are in trouble. 

As the flight is about to take off, you can see the rest of BTS in the rows ahead of you, with some other staff members taking up other seats. There’s one old man with a scowl on his face, whom you can’t place with the BigHit group. Great, no crying kids. Unless the frowning grandpa snores to the heavens, you can actually catch a good four-hour snooze. Take that, Jake. Hope a kid blows snot in his face. 

Looking at your neighbor, you find him busy searching for a good video game on the screen. The other members seem to be using this flight to catch a nap, except him. You always wondered whether their on-screen persona was real or not. Now you could say at least one of his characteristics is true. 

Turning away, you bring your focus back to the document at hand. The schematics for a new product your company was launching. You had spearheaded its conception and looked over every single detail in its manufacturing. The Seoul branch is one of the main players in its production, and your last stop before heading back home. You must have every word in this file burnt in the back of your eyelids to make this deal smooth. 

Reclining your seat, and putting your legs up, you got down to business.

An Angel was calling you. 

You want to wake up, but you couldn’t, fearing the Angel would stop singing to you. Something is poking you, but the voice just drowns it all out.

Wait...

Fluttering your eyes open, you see Jeon Jungkook staring right at you. 

“Hi... They, umm--Food? Want to eat?” the Angel utters. Jungkook utters. Tomato, to-mah-to. 

“Oh!” you exclaim, wiping non-existent drool on your face. His palm on your shoulder quickly retracts at your exaggerated attempt to hide your embarrassment. “Thank you so much.”

Then, he does that thing. He smiles. Eye scrunch and all. 

Fuck the coffee gods. When you die, you want to meet the Grand Master and ask him what crack he was on to hand over so much power to one man’s smile. 

The food is placed on your table, and you thank the hostess graciously. 

“Do you need anything to drink?” She asks, to which you only shake your head. There was enough caffeine in your system to shoot a horse to the moon and you were still drowsy. There was no need to catalyze this process with booze.  

“Your Korean accent is pretty good.” Your next-seat resident comments. Ah, you had conversed with the hostess in Korean. 

“Thank you very much.” You giggle, roleplaying an acne-prone teenager talking to her hunk of a crush.

“Have you been speaking for a long time?” He pops a huge morsel of food after asking. Well, that’s another on-screen quality found to be accurate.

“Six years now. Comes in handy for my work.” 

“Oh! Did you have to learn it for work? That’s fascinating.” Another mouthful went in. You didn’t even know it was physically possible to hold that much rice using chopsticks.

“Uhh.. no..” You tussle your hair, trying to stop your cheeks from turning beet red, “I just listened to some music and consuming more content.. and subtitles are a bore, plus I needed a hobby at the time so..” 

Your unnecessarily long explanation was cut short by Jungkook’s child-like laugh, enjoying the pickle you were putting yourself in. 

“Hey! I just didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation, that’s all.” you try to be cross, knowing it’s inconceivable since God himself seems to have given him whatever he wanted. If big ol’ Almighty can’t stand against his charms, you are but a mere pleb. 

He looks at you kindly. “Thank you, that was very thoughtful. I’ve been speaking to so many foreigners trying to get across to them I got surprised when you spoke so fluently.” 

He went back to chomping on his food like it was his last meal, completely unaware of your staring.  

You both speak for a long time. He explains their latest shoot and fan meeting, and you listen to him pour out his love for his job and fans as much as he could articulate. The rest of the emotion is portrayed by his now widest eyeballs (they cannot get any wider, you confirm by asking him - a request he apparently gets a lot) and intense gesticulation. It is very gratifying to listen to his past schedules, and you slip in a quick prayer for not having a job where you had to maintain public appearances while having a schedule as persevering as theirs. Sure, you had a ton of commitments. But can you throw your hair in a bun and aggressively scowl at a monitor and still meet your target? Fuck yeah.

You went on to tell him about yourself - your job, your travels, the reason you were in Seoul. He listens to them with rapt attention throwing in appropriate questions without interrupting your flow. He gives the right amount of sympathy; just enough to show that he understands why you have three sets of nightwear and a futon in your office, but not too much where it seems like you should “take a break” and “think about the joys of motherhood” - as you are often told. 

During the conversation, you digress a little to take in his slight features. The apple of his cheeks, in full display, when he tells you about how he pranked his members. The light pout of his lips when he talks about the times their path seemed too far-fetched, when every single obstacle felt like the end of their career. The stars in his eyes when he speaks of how he feels during tours, meeting the endless number of fans, the drive that keeps him going. They all make an endearing package. Eager to please, you kept the conversation going with gusto. The meal is followed by a snack break, after which you had effectively exhausted all conversation topics that could be brought up with near-strangers.

A quick alcohol break later, (yes, you caved, the catalyst was welcome) you both doze off, seemingly exhausted from recollecting respective timetables. He wakes up soon after to play video games and talk to the other members. But you fall into a deep slumber, with an Angel’s chuckles in the background guiding you through the sleep. 

Jungkook wakes up to see his character dead. The video game was forgotten after his conversation with you began. 

He spent an inordinate amount of time talking to you. And now that you’re asleep, he is only thinking about how much he enjoyed the conversation. Jungkook is not a speaker. His introversion leaves much to be desired in that department. Most of the time, his members cover for him, play the role of dutiful wingmen, and introduce him to their friends. And still, it took him a long time to talk freely.

But something about you made him open up.

Maybe it was the way you listened to him, lips slightly parted when you were absorbing every single word he let out. Maybe it was the questions you asked, treading lightly and skirting any personal questions. Maybe it was the fact that you pretended to not know him at first, mindful of his privacy. The butterflies in him could be explained by this.

But.

It could also be how graceful you looked, even though you’re dressed in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. It could be how you carried yourself, with great elegance and poise, even though your work was taxing. It could also be your toe socks, and your glee when he showed you his.

Your personality is infectious. He already misses you, despite you being inches away, desperately wants to exhaust every second of this journey engrossed in you. 

He wonders if you feel that way too.

Speaking of whom-

A snicker escapes his lips when he turns to face you. 

In your sleepy haze, Jungkook sees that a) your mouth is wide open, b) your hands mindlessly fiddle with the reams of pages on your lap, and c) your eyes scrunch as sunlight pierces through the flight to bounce off your face. Cute, he muses, trying to locate the source of the criminal rays irking you. 

The window letting the sunbeam in is beside an old man sitting on the other end. He is eyeing the magazine in his hands with abject disapproval, like the booklet had sullied him and his family. 

Gathering up the courage, Jungkook calls out for the man.

“Excuse me, sir. Do you mind pulling the window shade?” He asks, in the sweetest voice that his hyungs would melt at first listen. 

Puppy eyes are met with the geezer’s piercing glare, making Jungkook wonder if he accidentally said something strikingly offensive instead of what he thought he said. About to backtrack his words and try again, he gets interrupted by the man letting out a big grunt, after which he continues in his endeavor to telepathically set fire to the magazine. He does not forget to give a nasty side-eye but completely refuses to comply with Jungkook’s request. 

“And my team thinks my glares are spooky.” You pique, having witnessed the whole interaction, “I ought to have him on board”. Jungkook snorts, and you take that to be his agreement. 

Pausing, you throw caution in the wind and add, “Thank you though, that was very sweet of you.”

He eyes you demurely. “No problem, you looked like you needed the rest.” 

“Listen, I-”

“So I was think-”

Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at the Incheon International airport. Please ensure your backpacks and suitcases are stowed away in the overhead compartments or underneath the seats ahead of you. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to make a final compliance check and pick up any remaining cups and glasses. Thank you.

High-quality curses almost make it to heaven (speakers). The announcement dissipates all the courage you had mustered, feeling a rush exit your body. You had almost asked for his contact - and by the looks of it, he had wanted it too. Or maybe your hair is a rat's nest and he was just going to point that out. Guess you will never know.

You shyly smile at each other before going about following the instructions. Your half-read document gets stuffed back into its bag, to be read once you have no distractions in the form of eye candy armed with saccharine speech. Well, you have Jake to distract you plenty, but you can shoo him away by threatening his paycheck. 

As the flight descends, you look over to your neighbor - one last time, you guess - and surprisingly lock eyes with him. Anything that had exited you comes rushing back, veins in full alertness. A moment’s awkwardness later you both burst out laughing, each doing their best to hide their crimson cheeks. You find one more online fact to be true - Jungkook’s peak happiness laughter, eye crinkle and nose scrunch, can melt your whole entire heart. 

“Hey mami, come here often?”

“For the last time Jake, I will not hesitate to donate your bones for science.”

“Well, I heard bone, it's already a win for me.”

You let out a sigh of exasperation. There is no reforming him. 

“How was the flight?” Jake questions as you approach the baggage belt. Looking out for your somber black suitcase, you try to play it off like you did not spend the whole time in the company of a stranger who is on the fast track to your heart.

“The usual. Sleep, eat, read needlessly printed out documents that could have been shoved into on email, repeat. What about you?”

As Jake starts an account of his flight experience in exorbitant detail, you took the opportunity to try and find your ride. Once you locate it and get in, you catch the end of his sermon. 

“-and the name of the book will be ‘How to manage a farm - ‘cause chicks gon’ be crazy!’. What do you think?”

“I think it was a good idea I chose to zone out.”

“Y/N come on! It’s a self-help book for poor souls born without my raw charisma. Men and women out there want me, but I can’t satisfy them all. I will just resort to making more of me! It will have pointers, DIY’s and pick-up lines crafted by yours truly - wanna hear one?”

You throw your bag in front and turn to him. “Do I have a choice? Go ahead.”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he starts. “Am I cute? Squish my cheeks. Am I hot? Clap my cheeks.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Points for creativity. You’ll still get wine splashed at you.”

Jake was not one to give up. “‘It’s good we don’t need eye condoms, or you’d be on your way to delivery.’”

“Just… don’t have kids, okay? This gene must be stopped, right here.”

“Okay, this one is my all-time favorite. ‘Rack so big, I don’t motorboat, I motorship.’”

That’s it. The guffaw itching you since the start of this conversation is out of its cages, populating the air in the car. Wiping stray tears from your face, you face Jake, seeming very pleased with himself. Undoubtedly, he is coming up with absurd scenarios to ease your nerves. No book is in the works (one could only hope).

“Thank you, I feel much better now. You can stop coming up with these.”

The goof has the gall to look appalled. “I was going to cut you ten percent of my book commission but I guess that’s out. Hmph.”

“I’m at the receiving end of all these pick-up lines. I should make twenty at least for all the nuisance I’ve put up with.” 

“All right mami, we’ll shelve this for later. Here’s the schedule for today. You have a 10 a.m. breakfast meeting with Dr. Park Shin Young, Lead Research Scientist of the project. Then you have a bunch of seminars to attend, which will go on all afternoon. There’s a bar right beside this venue.”

“How is that pertinent?”

“So you know where to find me.” He continues, unperturbed. “After which there’s an evening meeting with the whole team to demonstrate the product and a marketing meeting right after.”

“Am I required for the marketing meeting?” Your expertise is limited to the technical field. PR work isn’t your cup of tea, but they stubbornly demand your presence. 

Jake exhales. “We’ve been through this. You CAN doze off during the meeting, but you have to be there. Just pretend you’re a college student, sitting in one class, completing assignments for another.”

“But if I’m there I feel the need to pay attention.” you whine.

“Clearly you weren’t one of those college students,” Jake says, perusing through his diary, “Stop being a pedant and do one of those things people do. Loving their jobs and whatnot.”

Before you can retort a reply, the driver pulls up to your destination and you exit the car. 

Eleven at night is when you finally check in to the hotel. The tedious day warrants your heels coming off before you even reach your floor. There’s an irritant drumming, from the balls of your feet right up to your temples, that beg for your attention. Setting your footwear on your bags, you massage your feet for temporary relief as the lift took you closer to a more permanent one.

Once your suitcase gets parked in the closet, you head to the bathroom to soak your day away with the bath bomb kit you were gifted in one of the seminars. The ball fizzles as soon as it hits the water, dispersing in tiny bubbles and a heady aroma of vanilla and lavender. The soft amber tones of the walls, the lambent gold lighting, and the ambrosial air put all your senses at ease. You sink in; the bathwater permeating warmth through your skin. Crackling bubbles with every move; the water teases your neck, soothing the laceration with every lick. Every pulse point on you is enhanced - you let yourself float wherever your mind takes you. 

A familiar face makes its presence known. You allow yourself to think about him, after pushing his visage away all day. Something about him… felt like home. Soothing, comforting, always speaking in dulcet tones unless something humorous pulled out a loud laugh. Even that wasn’t jarring; it was the exact opposite. Felt like sunshine filled your lungs every time he cracked up. Made you want to keep talking to him, keep him amused and entertained. You can’t imagine he converses with every stranger like that. 

But maybe he did; maybe this is some unspoken celebrity culture you were unaware of. 

All you know is that this was a once in a lifetime experience. There’s no way you are encountering another personage ever again. There’s no way you’re encountering him again. Luck can only thrive so far. 

So when you exit the bathroom, clad in a towel, remnant bathwater dripping from every end, the last thing you expect is Jungkook, spread out on the bed, casually flipping through his phone like it’s his own abode. 

“J-Jungkook?”

Y/N. In his room. In a towel. Dripping wet hair. Emanating a delectable aroma. 

Y/N. In person.

He is dreaming. He has to be. He's been thinking of you ever since the flight, so now he is delusional. Nothing else. There’s absolutely no chance that you’re in his room, let alone… like this. 

Right?

“What are you… what are you doing in my room?”

Wrong. 

Jungkook knows he should say something. He should not be gawking at you like he is doing now. But God. You look so pretty, eyebrows arched up in confusion, jaw about to be unhinged, hands fluttering around not knowing what to do. 

He forces his body to action.

"Y/N!" He exclaims, finally averting his eyes to face the wall. 

Pause.

"Wait, what do you mean MY room? This is my room!"

You’re baffled. "Huh? How is that possible? This was given to me!" 

“I really don’t know, Y/N, there must have been some confusion! Please, you have to believe me!” 

Jungkook wants to turn around and face you. He desperately wants to clear the air. He can see that this looks bad. He obviously looks like an enamored creep, waltzing into your space. You probably think he does this all the time. Many a time people have misunderstood him, his celebrity status not earning him many points. You must think the same.

And now you’re going to tell him to get out and never see you again, he hypothesizes. His brain is working overtime trying to remedy the situation, without noticing your now relaxing demeanor. 

“Oh, okay.”

“I’ll fix this, I’ll go to the reception and fix this. You don’t worry, I didn’t see anything, you can trust me, I’ll go an-”

“Hey, hey,” your tone gentle, “it’s okay, trust me. Just, let me get dressed and I’ll come down with you.”

Your soothing response almost has Jungkook on his knees. Whoever orchestrated this meet, he is just thankful for this good turn. Anyone else would go berserk, and rightfully so. 

But you’re not anyone else. 

He isn’t just anyone.  

Technically, he isn’t a stranger, you try to justify. You should have been more shocked, enraged, or at least doubtful of his intentions. But you weren’t. You had accepted his explanation, let him stay in your room while you changed in the bathroom, and now are en-route to the main desk to rectify this error.

The air around you two is strained; he won’t even look you in the eye. Any question you have is replied to concisely, leaving no room for a chat. Nothing to disperse the tension between you two. 

Like now, in the elevator, Jungkook has done the math and maintains the maximum distance between you. Opposite ends of the diagonal of this lift, his peripheral vision probably barely picks you up. However, his evasion helps in a way--you are able to study his full form.

He is dressed casually, and any lesser man would have seemed casual enough. On him, it is a whole new game. Ripped jeans hugging his sturdy legs, the slashed fabric allowing you a peek of his dangerous thighs. A plain white t-shirt tucked in to show off his lean waistline. The only thing holding you back from having a full-blown wet dream, wide awake, is his chestnut overcoat, saving his modesty and yours. 

Jake was right, eye condoms are the need of the century. 

To be fair, Jungkook had the worse end. He saw you scantily clad, post-bath glow and everything. You wonder what is going through his mind. 

Definitely nothing like the debauchery unfolding in yours. 

He has probably seen his fair share of women, and one hot to trot lady isn’t anything new. If anything, him dodging you is a sign of his civility, something you are lacking apparently--ready to jump his bones.

Stop thinking about his thighs, you whore. Get back home and trusty old Vlad the Impaler will take care of you.

The employee’s jaw almost hits the desk as Jungkook explains the situation. 

“Ma’am, Sir, we are extremely sorry about this confusion. We usually keep another key for family members, but somehow you got them both. We are deeply apologetic.”

“Yes, it’s okay, I’d just like my room key now and-”

“We will give you the best of our service to make up for this disorder. Not that we didn’t plan on giving you the best anyway, but now it will be top-notch! Please allow us to have your room cleaned again ma’am. Kyuyoung-ah! Get the people to prep 5338 and set 5337 again, and add more flowers!”

“Hey, that really won’t be necessary, we can just go back and forget about all thi-”

“And!” She continues, relentless, fully intent on doing her job, “Here are coupons for our round the clock pub! The ambiance is phenomenal, and our bartender makes a mean drink! You can use the facility for free during your stay. Hope this compensates for our gaffe. Once again, we are extremely sorry!”

She extends two passport-sized coupons that you hurriedly grab, wanting this quandary to end. 

The walk back to the elevator is less tight-lipped, only because Jungkook starts his deluge of apologies. Even though you had felt the same way on the flight, he was going overboard. You quickly assuage him and deflect his concerns.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. It really is. I know it was a mistake.”

“I know, but I shouldn’t have just walked in like that. I should have checked.”

Your expression is the visual form of a question mark. 

“Do you go around making sure your hotel room doesn’t have a surprise occupant?”

You’re taking this too lightly; it's obvious you are doing it for him. He can only laugh, broad delicious shoulders loosening in relief.

After a delay, you add, “You can’t help it if fate wants us crossing paths like this.” 

The quip makes Jungkook lose a beat. He cocks a brow in surprise - at that juncture, his features lose all boyish charm and turn unquestionably irresistible. 

Then, in a flash, the expression is replaced by his usual grin, back to his boy-next-door spirit. Are there world records for this speed? Jungkook needs to sign up to one.

Collecting the stars floating around your head, you return the favor, thankful that the barrier is now broken. 

After a quick break of courage gathering, you turn to him. “How come you’re staying in this hotel? Thought you’d be home.”

A thought is building in your mind; that this is too personal a question. But before you can take it back, you hear a chime. Jungkook moves. And somehow, you are moving with him. 

The elevator door opens, and people walk out. 

But that’s not where your attention is. 

You are focused on the sole patch of your body in contact with Jungkook’s arm. 

The palm of his hand sitting at the small of your waist is what had guided you away from the elevator. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, his hand is sending goosebumps all over your body. The air feels twenty degrees too hot for you.

Jungkook is simply being his chivalrous self, while you are ready to get arrested for public nudity.

Woman, you are a disgrace. Get laid.

Jungkook will high five himself once he gets to his pad. 

Is it right to get so euphoric about the smallest act of intimacy? That too with a near stranger? He has no answer. You are special to him; that much he knows. And someone up there agrees with him as well, letting him run into you again (albeit under crude circumstances; he’ll take what he gets). In this proximity, he can hear the slight gasp that escapes you once you recognize his hold, feel your muscles tense, smell the flowery fragrance you still carry. The fragrance that takes his mind on a rewind routine; one he forces to a halt. He feels lewd for taking pleasure in that misfortune, but he can take pleasure in the present. 

Entering the elevator, Jungkook has taken note of one thing: the roles have been reversed. On the downward voyage, it had been him avoiding you. Now, even with the closeness, you refuse to meet his eye. Something on the carpeted floor has your unrelenting attention. Letting his gaze dip to you, he bit back a smirk. Good to know you are as affected by him as he is by you.

“It’s a shoot.” 

You relent, looking up to him. “Huh?”

“You asked me why I’m here, it’s a shoot. The site is close by, so we don’t waste time traveling. Once the shoot is done, we will get back home.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” 

You beg your grey matter to find some topic of conversation to halt the blood rushing to your cheeks. The atmosphere is frozen again, but not like last time. Any unease earlier present has drifted. The tension that once kept you from closeness now keeps you from moving apart. His hand sits unmoved, continuing to rest on your hip. Jungkook can hear the loud thudding of a heartbeat, but he cannot discern whether they are from his heart or from yours.

Continuing after a pause, “I will be here for a few days now.” he adds, the suggestive hint of the words masked by his innocuous smile. 

“Ah.” You lamely add. You ought to kick yourself - but at this closeness, you might hit him too. 

The span of your separation is contracting, even though none of you move. Like the land underneath you is shifting, because even Mother Earth can’t handle the sexual tension in this confined space. 

“Ma’am, Sir, you’re here!” 

The booming voice of an employee disrupts the scene. You jump, wondering how you didn’t hear the door open, while Jungkook takes a graceful step back unscathed. 

“Your rooms are ready, please follow me.”

The walk back is quiet, except for bashfully exchanged glances and racing pulses. When you finally reach your respective rooms, he speaks again. 

“Want to accidentally cross paths with me at the bar?”

The heat reaches your ears. A moment of silence prompts you to look up, and you are held hostage by his eyes. His gaze flickers, intense and probing. Then, as if it never happened, his eyes narrow and his smile softens, harmless and easy. Again, this has to be witchcraft.

“Maybe we’ll let destiny decide. Hasn’t failed us so far.” 

Now, alone in bed with nothing but your thoughts, you wonder when it will ever happen again.

Three days. Three days before it happens again.

Three days filled with conferences, a ton of files, and a lot of battery acid disguised as coffee. Apart from the success of your work, the highlight of your time is when Jake tried to fix his shoe heel at a meeting and ended up gluing his fingers together. In a quiet room filled with immersed employees, he had yelled, “Superglue, my ass!”. 

The punctuation was not vocalized. 

Tonight was your last night in Seoul. It was supposed to be a night to yourself, but an office party pulled you out of your cavern to get dressed. You put on an elegant dress, a black and silver number, only to find the ‘party’ was the most monotonous excuse of networking. High-end businessmen exchanging cards over non-alcoholic fizz was not your idea of a party, so you quickly excused yourself. 

The coupon still weighed heavy in your purse, carrying memoirs of the last time you saw him. You had wanted to go earlier, but always held yourself back. What if he wasn’t there? What if you missed your chance? Why did you have to sashay away with a cool statement that night instead of clawing your way through the lust-filled air and settling things then and there? 

You supposed a drink at the hotel bar on your last night couldn’t be a bad thing, even if Jungkook didn’t show up.

So here you are, sipping on your wine and trying to appear nonchalant as you look out the window overseeing the city’s skyline. One ear is trained to the door of the pub, the slightest peep from that corner alerting your antenna. 

So far, no sign of him. 

This won’t work, you tell yourself. Second time’s a charm, third time’s pushing it too far. 

But as you wave the bartender to top up your drink, the corner of your eye catches movement; one, two, three heads appear through the door. Signature multichromatic mops of hair make their way in, forcing your pulse to marathon mode. 

And then you hear it. 

You hear his trademark cachinnate echoing through the structure. Multitudes of contrasting sentiments fill your gut. Are you sensing relief, that fate served its purpose without fail? Or is it the anticipation of how events will unfold? A sense of titillation, that a three-day old bond makes you feel more than year-old relationships you’ve had? You pry your eyes from that direction, trying to appear aloof when you are anything but. 

When you think you’ve gathered your composure, you look up. Like a hare falling for its bait, you are trapped, because he is looking right back at you.

Jin and Jimin are laughing about something that happened on set today, but Jungkook only has eyes for you. He can’t believe his luck. 

The past few days, his schedule had no give. After every shoot, the only thing he remembered was taking off his shoes and falling into a deep slumber.

So today when the shoot wrapped up earlier, Jungkook grabbed his trusty wingmen and open bar enthusiasts to utilize his coupon, and possibly test his kismet.

“Wasn’t she on our flight?” Jin observes, tracking Jungkook’s sight. 

“Oh yeah! Dude, is she the one?” Jimin keenly notes. “How do you keep bumping into each other like this?”

Jungkook downs his whisky, the burn felt from the throat to his diaphragm. “I don’t know, hyung. I don’t know what to do.” Beckoning the bartender for a refill, he tears away from your sight. 

 “Okay, liquid fortification is all good but how about,” Jin stops briefly to pluck the coupon out of Jungkook’s hands, “we handle the drinks department while you attend to her?”

Jimin nods in assent. “The worst thing you could do is spend time with her slurring and garbling while she ditches your sorry ass.”

“Hey! I won’t do that. Just, ” Jungkook gulps, “I don’t know... We’ve met like, hardly a few times. It really doesn’t make sense. What if we’re not on the same page?”

Jimin frowns, and even Jin seems unhappy with his reasoning.

“Things don’t have to make sense. You’re two consenting adults. You like her. By the way she’s eyeing you right now, I’m sure the feeling is mutual. You said it’s easy to talk to her right?”

Jungkook pouts, but sees his point.

“Then go with that. Don’t chart out a plan, just go with your heart.” Jin adopts a soft smile of encouragement. 

“Meanwhile we will grab the others and exploit this coupon to the full extent!” Jimin gleefully appends.

Jungkook’s eyes crinkle as he laughs with the other two. They are right. Carpe diem, right?

Finding you again, his breath hitches. You look beautiful. The sleek black dress with silver embellishments over the torso. It hugs you in the right places, accentuating your already alluring frame. Your shoulders bare, elegant collarbones waiting to be tasted. Hair tied up, exposing the delicious curve of your neck, a stretch Jungkook wants to pepper kisses onto, without missing a spot. You look exquisite against the backdrop of the night.

Carpe noctem it is. 

“Did you really dress up to use the coupon?” The tongue-in-cheek query breaking your line of thought.

A breathy chuckle leaves your lips, hopefully masking the frenzy in your heart. 

“I had a party. A very dull party. Figured I preferred my own company over that.” 

“Do you prefer your own company over mine?”

He’s still standing, tall frame waiting for your permission to occupy the next seat. God, he looks amazing.

“Not at all.” The words leave huskier than you intend, but they convey the message.

He takes the seat, a mere step away, his cologne wafting over to your side. The alcohol buzz makes the scent feel stronger, every bone in you wanting to dive in nose-first. 

Apparently you have been staring, because he nervously chuckles “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Should you go the modest route or fuck it?

Fuck it.

“You look... great today,” is all you get out. Stupid brain spewing half-baked goods.

Understatement of the year. He looks like sin incarnate. All black attire highlighting his golden skin, the dichotomy of his whole look has you understandably tongue-tied. Black jeans - no rips, sadly- with a dark grey high-neck t-shirt, tucked in of course, because pain is the only constant for you. A black trench coat is thrown on top to seal the look. The obsidian outfit sends desperate need through your body, an intense desire to rip it all off surging through you. Somehow, through all these layers you can sense his fit body, his rippled muscles, his sturdy pecs, like they have an aura of their own. 

“Ah, thank you. You look amazing as well.” Halting a moment to sip his drink, he resumes.  “Sucks that you dressed up for nothing.”

“Well, you liked it. So it's not for nothing.”

If looks were potent, Jungkook’s own could set you on fire. Gaze coolly raking over your figure, the tick in his jaw betrays his reaction. A chill passes through every part of your body under his intense scrutiny.

“Are there other things you would wear��� if I liked it?” He carefully treads.

“There are certain things I’m wearing right now that I’m sure you would appreciate.” 

If not for the shrinking distance between you two, you couldn’t have caught the low hiss. His animalistic need, usually kept well under control, is raging against its bonds, screaming to let go. Your exquisite gown, flowing down your curves, accentuating the swell of your ass - God save this dress from his feral hands. Against his will, he restrains himself. He would make this a lasting encounter. 

“How many drinks have you had?” He needs you to remember every single moment.

“Two glasses of wine, don’t worry. You?” 

“A shot of whisky, that’s all. Haven’t even finished my second drink.”

Gone were his cherubic appearance and dimpled smiles; the man in front of you is oozing pure sex appeal. His clenched jawline, furrowed brow, and perfectly placed tresses add to his raw masculinity. The cusp of your thighs is damp; if this is his effect here, what will it be behind locked doors? You wonder whether this is the same man that gushed about old-era video games in the flight. 

“Well, if you are wearing them for me, I’d be a fool to miss them.” he brings you back to the present. Twinkling eyes match your eager ones as you give a small nod.

Every step you take shoots a thrilling tingle through your spine. Every inch of distance closed forces you to close the next with doubled speed. Every foot forward adds to the thick air, laced with hunger, desire, and an inordinate amount of trust placed in the hands of a stranger. 

The first time you two walked back to the elevator, his move had caught you unaware. 

Now, the arm wraps around your entire waist, body flush against his, yet you yearn to get closer. 

Last time, you couldn’t match his gaze, skin burnt a crimson hue. 

Now, your eyes are locked together, any movement in your surroundings be damned.

Michael Jackson rising from the dead and performing Thriller wouldn’t tear you away from your current view (sorry MJ, maybe next time).

When the doors close, he places a palm on your bare back, bringing you to his chest.

“I’ve wanted this so bad, ever since I met you. It’s insane.”

The hand caressing your back makes you sigh. “Not if I wanted the same.”

His grip tightens. “The things I want to do to you...” eyes searching yours, ”tell me you can handle it.”

“Oh baby,” you drawl, “I’ll do whatever you want. Whatever it is,” your lips hover on his, “I can take it.”

The elevator doors opened too soon for your liking, and Jungkook drags you through the corridor. You’re practically hanging on to him, feet barely responsive, the faint buzz of wine making you giddy. His hawkish gaze soaks in everything you do, memorizing every response to his touch. 

You lean over to lay wet kisses on his neck. Pleasure searing through his veins, Jungkook’s knees almost buckle. He pushes you against a wall and locks you in with his form.

“Uh-uh-uh, honey,” he tsks, “you’re not making this easy on me?”

You pretend to ponder. “Well, I didn’t plan on making it easy.”

He smirks, all sex, and the wetness between your legs is making its presence known. Leaning into your ear, he whispers, “Unless you want me to have my way with you right here…” and all your brattiness dissipates. 

Satisfied, he grins. “Your place or mine?” 

“Hmmn, depends.”

He cocks a brow. “On?”

“Am I gonna be able to walk tomorrow?”

That damned smirk. “Your place it is.”

Jungkook’s lips are on yours the moment your door is locked. He cages you against its frame, teeth clashing and biting anything they find. You let your hands roam all over, searching for something to hold on to. A throaty sound leaves Jungkook when your digits card through his hair and tug on it, a sound you gladly swallow.

Time seems to have taken a break. Your thoughts are blank. You chase the kiss like it's the only thing you know, the only thing you’re born to do, your sole mission in life before you die. The bruising pace Jungkook set is eagerly matched by you. Gravity is slowly losing its meaning, and you’re nothing but a stray entity floating in space. And this kiss is your only source of air. 

Jungkook pulls you towards him, closing the nonexistent distance between you. Heat rises from his chest, the feeling is hypnotic beyond reason. A taste of you has ruined every other flavor. He kept his eyes half-open, sneaking peeks at your flushed face whenever you come for air. His fingers explored your body, grabbing your ass and pulling you into him. Your clothed crevice jolts at the friction, hips hounding for more.

The moan that leaves you gets muted, because Jungkook takes this opportunity to take control. Tongue forcing its way in to explore every corner of your mouth, it melds with your own muscle. If this were a dance, it would be a fierce tango, oozing with sexual tension. Breathing is now trivial, this kiss is imperative. 

Jungkook’s hands grab your hips and twirl you, both of you now facing a full-length mirror. You can witness your neckline being abused, mulberry blossoms left in place. The sight has your sex clenching, and lips liberated, you couldn’t stop yourself from mewling.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to make you scream so loud, the hotel reception will hear you.”

With your head spinning in lust, you try to form your words right. “An- And what? Discuss how a second room for you was - oh god - was useless?” 

Jungkook pauses to admire his craft; your neck, shoulders, and collar are now littered with bruises, like a garden of hyacinth at his disposal. The view is maddening, your lusty gaze locked on to him in the mirror. His mane is tousled, no doubt your handiwork, and his hand is tracing the outline of your dress. 

“That cursed day,” He chokes out, “You were so fucking hard to resist you know?”

You turn back to face him, hand reaching back to undo your halter neck, “You have me now.” Stepping back, you let your gown fall.

He froze. You are standing in front of him, robed in only your black lace-embroidered strapless bra, and matching panties, each adorned with a white bow. The swell of your breasts barely caged in the cups, making Jungkook drool at sight. All the wind was knocked out of his lungs; you look like a prisoner’s last meal, waiting to be devoured. 

“On your knees.” he commands.  

Not a second is put to waste. You begin undressing him, unbuckling the pants and aggressively pulling them down. Next come the boxers, and you are faced with-

Wow.

You mean this in the nicest way, but, what a dick.

He is already hard, the mushroomed tip angry and red, leaking a drop of precum begging to be tasted. The girth exceeds your expectation, already visualizing the delicious visual of your cunt stretched thin. He is going to reach places even Vlad the Impaler couldn’t; you are already brimming with anticipation for the final act.

And his thighs. Nothing angelic about them. Taut. Muscular. Sinewy. Something uncivilized in you wants them to trap your frame between them, caging you, pinning you down. You press kisses on his inner thigh, letting your tongue poke out when you hear him exhale. A sharp bite shocks Jungkook, but you only smirk.

“Wanted to do that since I saw you.” 

The stare that meets you is practically challenging you to try that again, and perhaps reap some delicious consequences.

You bring yourself back, giving his cock the full attention that it deserves. Looking up, you see his half-lidded eyes, assertive and arresting, compelling you to go on. 

You bring your palm up to him. He raised a brow in question.

“Spit for me.”

Jungkook almost busts his load when he hears you. “Fuck, so dirty.” he garbles out. Rolling his neck in an attempt to divert his blood, he takes your hand and drops a thick glob at the center of your palm. 

A throaty moan arises from you, and his dick is harder than ever.

“Go on baby, show me you can suck dick like a champ.”

You give him a confident look; you’re about to rock his world. Starting with small licks, you tease the slit and taste the pre-cum lodged in it. Meanwhile, you work the spit along the shaft; you spit on it again, the original amount insufficient to cover the length. You can feel his dick twitching against your attention, eager to be sheathed. Interspersing with some long drags on the underside, you zero in on the pinched skin under the head. 

Jungkook is staring at your jerking him off. The sight of you, clad in lingerie is blowing his mind. If that was not enough, the mirror in front is providing a sumptuous secondary perspective. The smooth stretch of your back, the swell of your ass, the panty fabric barely able to cover the expanse, everything on you is making him short circuit. Seeing you on your knees, your deferential nature stirs something in him. If he doesn’t control himself, he will bend you in half and ride you to sunrise. He doesn’t want to scare you, but fuck, his depraved early man instincts are telling him otherwise. 

“What are you- ohhh, holy shi-”

Instead of slipping his cock fully into your mouth, you hold it up, and pay careful attention to his balls. Jungkook’s hands come to rest on your head, a telltale sign of his unraveling. With a smile, you let your tongue swipe through every nook and corner till they are coated in saliva.

“You think you’re such a fucking tease, ” He grabs you by your now unraveled tresses and pulls you back, “Ease up baby, your throat is in for a treat.”

In one quick swoop, he lodges himself at the base of your throat, provoking your gag reflex, but you restrain the urge to pull back. Breathing through your nose, you suck and swallow whatever you can; his girth isn't giving you much to work with.

Jungkook growls. “Such a tight fit. Like you’re meant to be like this. Forever.”

The last word slips out unwittingly. 

Alarmed, his eyes flit down to gauge your response, but all you are doing is looking back at him. 

Fuck, your dovelike eyes are captivating. They look so angelic, a complete contrast to the perverse posture you are in. Not an ounce of displeasure in response to his words. Pure, unadulterated affection for him. Only for him. 

“God, you’re going to be the death of me.” Jungkook husks. “You’ll do anything for me, you said?”

Muffled whimpers impart your compliance, and you bob your head up and down for good measure. The tip of his cock hits every ridge of your throat, the vibration releasing more fluid down.

“Pleasure yourself, baby. Touch yourself, but don’t you cum.”

Your brow distresses further, a disgruntled whine leaving you and reverberating around him. Already so turned on, the lightest friction would make you combust.

Jungkook’s teeth clench. “Edge yourself for me, sweetie.” 

It's like your body is tuned to his command. Slipping two fingers under the band, you part and slide them on either side of your throbbing nub. Despite you avoiding any pressure point that might push you over the edge, the pleasure threatens to tip you over. 

You look over for his approval. Swallowing, he nods. Your self-stimulation is making him dizzy. It's time to get serious.

“Such a good girl. Don’t stop, okay? I’m going to fuck your throat raw.” Starting with mellow jerks, “Hope you don’t have to speak anytime tomorrow.” he rasps.

The carpeted floor grazing your knees only adds to the revelry. You’re not in control of yourself anymore. The back of your gullet is aching as Jungkook shoves into you again and again. An amalgamation of his salty juices and your dribble lewdly coats your chin and neck; you must look ravished. Everything with Jungkook feels augmented; every single motion of his making your sex clench. 

He is close - you can feel his grip on your hair tightening. 

“Can I cum on you?” words slither through his clamped teeth. You frantically nod. 

With a loud grunt, he pulls you off and releases all over your chest, a stray pump landing on your chin. Thick liquid, dripping from your jaw onto your collarbones and breasts, the whole scene is filthy good. Your unfilled cunt is aching to be replete with the cum. 

Post-orgasmic glow is dazzling on him--hair drenched in sweat, tufts sticking to his forehead. His breathing is heavy and resonant as dilated pupils take in your soaked state. Bending down, he crooks a finger under your chin, anchoring his attention on your dewy stare. The onyx embers in his eyes bore into yours, studying for any hesitation in them. A microscopic moment of tenderness, unspoken words exchange between you. 

Satisfied to find only searing hunger, his digits collect the beads of cum on your jaw, pushing them back into your mouth. Your eyes roll skyward, relishing the briny taste, nearly asking him to do it again. Leaning further, he grabs the wrist of your hand that is thoughtlessly rubbing your sex - you didn’t even realize you were still doing it. You feel drained, like you orgasmed vicariously through him. 

“My turn.” He wears a devilish expression on his archangel eyes.

Lips connect once again as he pulls you up. If he tastes himself, he is relishing it, with his tongue exploring the deep cavern. With wobbly ankles, you let him guide you to your bed, dropping on your back. He follows you, pouncing on you, plunging into your mouth again like a beast hungered. Bodies melting together like an icicle under the summer blaze, your hands hunt to frisk his skin. Realizing he is yet to undress, you yank at this t-shirt, attempting to liberate him from the offending fabric.

“Tsk, greedy.” he bit your ear, soothing the sting with a kiss. 

“Cruel is what it is.” You huff, like everything he’s doing is not a blissful affair. 

How do men do that? Violently ripping their shirt off and leaving a messy mop of hair in its wake, nevertheless looking like they could walk a runway the next instant. Jungkook was no exception. The moment he pulls his shirt off, you are rendered speechless.

Chiseled chest like the work of an artisan. Droplets of sweat race down the paths traced by the sculpted abs, an intense desire to taste them forming in you. He is a mesomorphic dream who puts Greek gods to shame. Swallowing, you let your hand trace the outline of his pecks, feeling him shudder against your touch.

“Jungkook, please.”

Who was he to deny you?

Leaning up to you with a wicked smirk, Jungkook drops a thick line of spit right on your hardened nipple. The concoction of his cum and spit soaks through the lacy material. A lone finger circles, avoiding the spot that requires the most attention. You arch your back, begging him for more, just more of anything. The wet fabric amplifies the emptiness in your cunt. 

“Aww,” he coos, clearly amused by your neediness, “undo this for me, sweetness. Let me see you.”

Moving at lightning speed, you unhook the bra, swinging it away to a corner of the room. 

“Oh no.” He mock-frowns, veins bulging on his arm as he controls himself. “Look at these tits, fuck.” Mind reeling with ideas, filthy ideas, of all the things he wants to do to you. “You’ve ruined everything else for me.”

You tremble. “Good, so have you. Want you for myself. Want you,” pulling him close, “to do your worst.” you end with a whisper.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens. “Careful what you ask for,” he grits before diving headfirst into your bosom. 

He licks and laves and bites and laps--your breasts are on fire. Continuing his marking spree, new blemishes make an appearance on your torso. Nibbling on one nipple, he pinches the other; pulling moan after moan from you. 

Your hips barely touch the bed, bucking up in response to Jungkook’s sinking teeth into your ample bust. He has decided to not leave an inch without his saliva, and like a man on a mission, covers every part with rapt attention. 

“Yo- You don’t have to--oh holy fuck--you don’t have to, cover me in marks you kno--ohh my go-” The sentence is spastic, piercing mewls breaking your flow of speech and thought. 

“These fucking tits,” roughly clasping your pert breast in his large palm, “they look so much better like this.” The proud smile he shows has not the slightest hint of regret. 

Catching a break, he twiddles your nipples, letting his other hand sit on your covered sex. He is teasing you; you recognize that. Just giving you opportunities to disobey, to take all the pain he has to offer.

It’s a good thing you like the pain.

You slowly roll your hips, trying to grind against his palm, taking whatever help you can get.

A sharp smack lands on your clit, shooting your eyes open - you don’t even know when they closed. Jungkook’s hand is soothing the site of the blow, the pain converting to pleasure under his touch. 

“Patience, sweetness,” the gravely whisper sending tingles down your spine, “such a good girl for me.”

You give him a slight nod - he smacks you again, once, twice, thrice, without a break. Your entrance is smarting, but you want to give him everything. Biting your lips to stop the labored moans escaping, you clench your eyes and savor the burn.

Your show of obedience has Jungkook’s heart thronging. Fuck, he was enjoying toying with you. Playing you like a fiddle. You produce every tone he desires in the form of wanton melodies, he wants to play them over and over again like his favorite song.

“How are we doing?” he asks, a shit-eating grin plastered on him. Before you could answer, his fingers shallowly enter your soaked pussy, still hampered by the cloth. 

“You- fuck, you said I was the tease here?” Your hands are at his wrist, begging to pull the scrap of cloth aside and have his way. 

He comes to face your sopping mound, pausing only to speak “Never said I wasn’t,” and starts pressing soft, feathery kisses. “That day, seeing you dripping in that towel, I dreamt of having these legs around me.”

“I swear, at least take it off - oh Jungkoo-”

Without warning, he kneads your ass and pushes you into his face. 

You feel like you’ve been on the edge for hours. The suckle on your engorged clit along with the abrasion of the lace gets you so close. So damn close. So, so clo-

The tightness in your belly finally snaps and you howl, gushing your vat of arousal onto his face. The high was more intense than you had imagined, so high that you wonder if you will ever find your way back to reality. You feel like a rock in space, aimlessly floating in the vast nothingness.

You dimly notice Jungkook toying with the lacy hem of your panties, pulling it back to snap it against your hip. The sting is soon forgotten, along with your panties flung across the bed, as he parks himself back between your legs.

“You smell incredible.” He approves, taking a long whiff of your honeyed center. “Look at you, so messy.” He licks a long stripe along your crease. “Messy girl, I should clean you up.”

“Wait Jungkook-” you oppose, lids heaving in pleasure. “I need you inside me, please. I can’t take -oof”

Gnawing at your sodden folds, he let his nose press against your clit. “You’re so fucking tight, you think you can take me?” He shakes his head. “Gotta stretch you out, gotta make me fit.” He presses his tongue against your nub, feeling it throb in anticipation. “And I think you can give me one more.” He ends, before invading your drenched channel with two fingers. You are putting up with his torments the best you can; walls fluttering against his lips, legs entwined behind Jungkook’s back trapping him between your thighs. 

“Ah! God - I, I can’t-” Your eyes are screwed shut, hands bunching the sheets in your grasp.

His fingers fluctuate between scissoring motions, their lengths opening you up for him and curling inside, fingertips finding the rough patch inside. He adds a third finger, pussy straining to accommodate them all. Your thighs clench in the burn, and he groans into your pussy at the pressure. Increasing the pace, he pumps into you harder and faster, sucking your puffy lips in tandem. 

“Please, please, harder - let me cum - please oh go-” 

“Fuck yeah baby, your pussy is just sucking me in. You like that? You like me shoving into your cunt?”

“Uungh yes yes I love it!”

“Doesn’t it hurt? Or are you such a slut for pain? Tell me, tell me you’re a pain slut.”

“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t you stop- I am! I am a pain slut! Your pain slut!”

“Goood girrrll,” he husks out. Even though he is taking charge, your words are what control him. “Only mine. My pain slut will come for me now.”

A spray of cum ejects out of you, coating Jungkook’s chest and inundating your legs. The coherent part in you recognizes that you just squirted, but the neanderthal side shuts all recognition of anything that is not Jungkook’s cock. Even after two climaxes, you are hungry to get more. More of him. 

If you don’t fuck him now, you will lose your capability to reason. 

Limbs still heavy and reeling from the ravaging, you pick your pieces and drag Jungkook to the headboard. 

“I’m going to ride you.” you declare and straddle him. 

Jungkook is staring fixedly at your still-leaking cunt. Running his tongue over his lower lip, and licking the remnant syrup of your release. You position yourself, letting the drippage fall directly on his erection. He twitches, eyes still feasting on the mess you are making. 

Finding purchase on his shoulders, you lower yourself. Jungkook’s breath staggers as you drag your inner lips along his hard shaft. You repeat this motion till your fluids drip to his balls. 

“Y/N, I swear to God, if you don’t stop with this-”

“You’ll do what?” you challenge, an eyebrow raised in response to his threat. 

He grabs you by your waist, jerking you up before bringing you down on his dick. Your cunt, creamy from his earlier ministrations, gives no resistance to his hardness. His cock twitches inside as you bottom out. Pulling you closer, he bites your lip and tugs at it. 

“I’ll do this.”

A sharp spank makes you clench around him, the supple flesh of your ass ricocheting in response. 

“Go on baby, ride me.” 

The low-grained command sets you in motion. Slowly gyrating your hips, you feel every ridge of this length inside. Jungkook’s grip on your waist tightens, and you’re sure you will see evidence of it tomorrow. Your grasp on his shoulders isn’t faring any better. 

“You’re so tight, fuck, and so wet. Who made you like this, huh?” A second spank punctuating his question.

“Oh God, you-”, you barely manage to recognize your own voice, “You, Jungkook! Only you!” 

“That’s fucking right, only me.” 

Hips snapping, he meets you halfway. Both of you are lost in each other, lewd sounds of your skin slapping and juices quelching barely muffled by your desperate whines and moans of passion. Eyes locked in like magnets, neither of you could look away. 

Jungkook pulls back a little, slapping your jiggling tit. Your sex clenches, and the following slap has you lodging yourself in the crook of his neck, searching for a reprieve. 

“Want some help?”

One swift move and you are on your stomach, face pushed into a pillow, and ass out. A final spank lands right in the middle, and you can feel it pulsate everywhere. He pushes back into your glistening core, taking control of your pleasure and pain. One hand carding through the nape of your neck, pushing you down, the other hand grabbing your waist and setting the pace. The new angle hits deeper, you feel so full. 

“Jungkoo--unghh I need to cum! Need to- umph- cum so bad!” You are wailing at this point, shame lying somewhere near your flung clothes.

“Fuck, babe, me too. Go ahead and play with yourself, nice and slow.”

It takes a few swipes for the tightness in you to detonate. Tears flood your face as you unravel, your orgasm crashing into you like waves of a tsunami. You clench tight, wetness flows out of your hole as Jungkook pumps in and out, chasing his high. 

He comes undone soon after, ropes of his ejaculate filling your insides. He stays in, plugging you as if to not allow any of it out. But as his member softens, he gives in, turning you on your back to meet his face. 

Butterfly-soft kisses are exchanged after the blazing encounter. He asks you if you’re okay between breaths, a tender murmur you almost miss, as if you weren’t screaming your lungs out moments ago. Nuzzling into his neck, you confirm.

A snort disrupts the silence. Looking up, you see Jungkook chuckling.

In response to your cocked eyebrow, he says “Want to talk about what a freak you are?”

“Want to talk about what a hypocrite you are?”

“Hey, you asked me to spit on you!”

You mock-gasp, hand on chest for the extra effect. “My breasts need medical attention after your attention! Freak!” 

Laughter echoes in the room as you two tumble in the blankets, and you feel his release seeping out of you. Turning to him, you pout, “Your mess is leaking out of me.” 

Jungkook gets up to leave the bed, and you expect a wet towel coming your way. 

What you don’t expect is him parting your legs, gunmetal eyes following the rivulets escaping your abused hole. 

“Your cunt smells so good with my cum on it,” he purrs. 

He gathers the escaping thick liquid and pushes it back into your quivering core. 

Jolting with oversensitivity, you try to stall him but he is fingering you with a vengeance. The ache and soreness soon dispel, bringing forth a new wave of ecstasy. His unrelenting stare concentrates on the mix of fluids on his fingers. With a few strokes on your sensitive bundle of nerves and fingers stuffed inside, you come again, legs shivering and pussy overflowing, his juices intermingled with yours. 

You are dazed; you’ve lost track of everything. The room is spinning in front of you and your body feels like lead. All you can manage is to arch your neck, and plead, “No more, you freak.” 

Jungkook giggles, eyes crinkling in good humor. Ah, the duality of this man is a force to reckon with. You can’t believe this is the same man that fucked you into your bed like a primordial beast. There’s no way you can move anytime soon. 

After a clean-up interval, you are wrapped in each other's arms, melting into the embrace. His musky fragrance putting you at ease, you tuck your in the nook of his neck, basking in the aroma. Hands pressed against his broad chest, exuding warmth for you. His hand cradles your head, snuggling in closer till there is no space to cover. Sweet nothings whispered into each other’s lips, tender kisses exchanged in place of the scorching ones that had passed. You drift in and out of your slumber, fearing the sun would ascend too soon and break you apart. 

A dim glow from the other end of the bed wakes you up. On turning you find Jungkook, dressed in his now-wrinkled clothes, seated on the edge. His gaze, pensive. You lay a hand on his thigh.

“Oh, did the light wake you?”

The alarm on his face makes you smile. “No, your absence did.” 

The corners of his mouth turned up, eyeing you with softness. 

“I have an early schedule. I didn’t want to wake you, but, ” he lets his palm rest on yours, “I also didn’t want to leave without it.”

Neither of you know how to walk away from this. The silence is deafening, unuttered sentiments hanging in the still air. Jungkook’s chest is heavy. 

This is insane. He wants to lay you against a bed of flowers, treat you like the delicate petal you bear resemblance to, worship your body till the sun succumbs to your blazing passion. How is he to explain that his heart is beating through his chest for someone he knows for mere days? He rifles through his memories for a similar instance. 

He finds none. 

Maybe you don’t feel the same way. Maybe, you are blissfully unaware of the tumultuous emotions lurching in the pit of his belly. He can’t assume you will echo his lovesick needs, but he can’t let go. 

You inch closer. 

Fervid feelings die hard. He probes your eyes searching for an intensity matching his. 

You let your lips convey the answer.

Passionate as ever, you draw him into the kiss. His lashes flutter against your rosy cheeks. At the moment, there is no dominance in him. Almost like his tongue, dragging across your swollen lips, is healing the brutality of last night. If you pull back, he comes after you; an incessant tug of war no player wants to win. 

“Please Jungkook,” you choke between kisses, “Please tell me this isn’t the last of us.”

He is hovering on top of you, the galaxy in his eyes twinkling at your words. 

“Please, I don’t want this to end.” You continue against his lips. Head versus heart, you fought a losing battle; how were you to stall the inevitable? Fueled, you plunge your tongue into him, determined to make your ardor known. The void of ferocity is filled with slow sensuality; like he is the sole reservoir to quench your thirst. 

“Y/N”, he breathes out, “I feel like I know everything about you and nothing about you at the same time.” Resting your foreheads against one another, he continues. “I’m not about to let fate decide when we cross paths again.”

A grin finds your lips. “Destiny really pulled its weight here, didn’t it?”

He wordlessly nods, not wanting to break the tranquility in place. However, it is short-lived; his phone’s ringer makes sure of it. 

“Yeah, I’ll be right down.” Something the speaker says turns Jungkook scarlet red. “I said I’ll be right there!” he yells before ending the call.

“The members are asking why I wasn’t in my room.” he clarifies, waggling his brows.  You join his laughter, happy to have just the simple moment with him. 

After exchanging numbers (and a photo for keepsake), Jungkook presses one last kiss, lips promising to find each other again. Somehow, you don’t say goodbye. You just stare at his disappearing body, confident that the next encounter is not far. 

Jake is babbling about his night, how he managed to ditch the god-awful party and hang out with some overenthusiastic college-goers who paid for his drinks with their trust fund dough. This is usually the time you ask him if he’s proud of mooching off of children, but today his exaggerated narrative is cracking you up. 

His forehead creases. “What’s up with you today? You haven’t vowed to skin me alive even once.”

“You like it when I threaten bodily harm?”

“I’m kinky like that.”

You just shrug. Erotic images make a fleeting appearance in your mind, but they are interrupted by your flight announcement. 

“Aren’t you glad this is over? You can go back to overworking yourself in your office instead of a hotel!” Jake remarks, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “At least your back won’t break in the travel.”

Thinking over your experience in the city, you confess “Actually, I look forward to returning here.”

A thought slips in, curving your mouth into a smile. You quietly add,

“And yeah, my back was broken all right.”

Thank you for making it to the end! Please do let me know what you think!

[i-llbedammned]

Memories of the Fall

Title:Memories of the Fall

Word Count:1,963

Summary: Despite being a demon for thousands of years, Crowley is still haunted by the memories of the Fall from grace. He normally does such a good job of hiding it, but Aziraphale happens to walk in at the wrong moment and senses something is wrong.

Link to Ao3 is here (https://archiveofourown.org/works/20146882) or read the fic below the cut.

Screaming. The first thing Crowley was aware of was that there was an awful lot of screaming around him. Wait. Not around him. Coming from him. The sound of screaming that seemed to blot out all of existence was coming from his own throat. He barely recognized it with how ragged it sounded.

The next thing he was aware of was the tremendous cold feeling of falling. One moment he was up in the clouds and the next he was screaming, falling through more time and space than he had ever imagined existed before. His stomach jumped up into his throat as he tried to bat his wings desperately but fruitlessly against the inexorable pull of the ground. The last thing he was aware of was the pain. Every artist liked to portray the turning of an angel’s wings to demons as pretty, but most of what he was aware of in the moment was pain. With each feather that turned black it felt like someone pulling out slowly each tuft and then forcibly inserting another one into his skin. It was like needles being plunged into the most delicate parts of his body and that was before the impact hit him.

As the ground rushed up towards him, he fell not into it but instead through it. He just kept falling til an icy plane came up to greet him, smashing against his wings and face. Silvery blood poured from his lips and skin as it scraped along the ice, his wings were so twisted that it took months to get them properly straightened out and healed. This was long before he realized that he still retained the ability to do miracles even in a demonic state. Hell, the term demon didn’t even exist yet. He was just a lost, fallen angel trying to make sense of the world.

After laying there on the ice for a few moments he ascertained that he was indeed not dead and instead something else. He stood up and saw that all around him were friends in a similar state of disarray. Hastur was still screaming, clawing at his once beautiful skin as it oozed with pus and grime. Beezlebub stared in a stunned state, clearly barely registering that all of this was even happening as flies crawled over her flesh and into her ears- too stunned to even bat them away. And there at the center of them all was Lucifer himself, lovely faced with large swooping bat wings and the fury of a man who knows the system he had served previously was unjust. His rage coalesced around him and he threw chunks of ice at the nearest hapless victims, trying to make anybody pay for what had just happened. Fear lanced through Crowley as he tried to figure out what had changed about his form. There was no smell of rot about him nor extra limbs that grew. He combed over every inch of skin, finding patches of black scales which in retrospect didn’t seem that bad. He could have been the demon with maggots crawling from their skin eternally.

Wait, what was that?

A glint of gold caught his eye in the ice below him. Looking through the warped image, he stared at the face he thought was his own. But his eyes were all wrong. Instead of swirling with the energies of the galaxies they had gone matte gold and slitted. Hissing he turned away and covered his eyes with his hands, finding that the hissing sound went on far longer than he intended it to. It was then he figured out how far his punishment would go. One hand touched the ice as he struggled to get away from his own reflection and it became stuck there, frozen fast in the mire. In panic he tried to pull it away and instead it detached from his shoulder. With his remaining hand he tried to pry it loose, but then his left foot touched the ice and became fixed there. One by one his limbs started falling off, becoming frozen in the ice as he tried to move. More and more scales grew over his skin as his pleas for help became gargled hissing. No, no. It wasn’t supposed to be like this! He was supposed to be a goddamned angel!

Gasping Crowley sat straight up in bed, covered in a thin layer of sweat. In fear he checked his limbs, ascertaining that they were all still there. Also he was no longer in an icy hellscape, but instead a rather cozy bed with black sheets in a flat in London. His heart raced in his chest and the world felt like it was going to cave in on him at any second. Logically he knew he was safe, but memories were not tied to logic.

The dreams of the fall never got any easier. You would think they would at least get less frequent as the years went on, but no. One of the many hidden punishments of falling was never being able to forget the fact that you had betrayed everyone you had formerly sworn to serve. It was enough to make him never want to sleep, save for the odd hours where he got bored enough to wonder if anything about them had changed. They didn’t, for the record. They never did.

“Hello?” He heard a familiar call at his doorstep and his blood ran cold. No, damnit, not his angel. What was he even doing here at-What time was it anyway? Crowley looked around the room and saw the clock read 11.

Okay so maybe he had overslept, that still didn’t mean he wanted Aziraphale to see him so panicked. Then he would want an explanation and that wasn’t something Crowley thought he had words for. But what could he do?

“Hello, Crowley. I know you said not to bother you for a few days after the Apocalypse, but there is a lovely play going on-“ Started Aziraphale, shuffling around something in the living room.

“Hey, angel,” the demon growled from his bedroom, “Now is not the best time. I think this mortal shell is sick.”

“Sick? Crowley you haven’t gotten sick in two hundred years.” The sound of the angel’s light footsteps were coming down the hall.

“Yeah, I know. It’s unlikely, but I am pretty sure it is tuberculosis and still contagious.” He fired off quickly, only remembering that tuberculosis wasn’t a plague in London in this century after he said it.

“Tuberculosis? I can fix that!” Aziraphale said brightly from right outside his door and Crowley raced to his feet, throwing his weight against the wood. The feeling of a divine miracle washed over Crowley with a familiar itchy burning sensation.

Of course the angel had tried to miracle away the disease. The door began to move and was only stopped by one large demon slumped against it.

“Crowley, your door is stuck.” Aziraphale sounded pleasantly confused but patient, “I’m going to have to push it really hard to get through. Hold on.”

“No really, it’s quite al-“ began Crowley trying to control the panic in his voice, but soon found himself punched in the face with his own door as Aziraphale shoved it backwards and sent him sprawling. Sometimes he forgot that the chubby angel who loved books and cake was a trained soldier capable of great feats of strength which in this case included shoving one stubborn snake demon away from his own door.

“There we go!” Aziraphale proudly beamed, looking at Crowley’s bed at first and then confusedly at the floor where Crowley lay, pitifully holding on to his own head and bringing his body up into a curled ball. “My dear, what are you doing down there?”

Steadying his breath, Crowley said into his own knees, “Oh you know, just enjoying the view.”

“I-“ The angel’s voice stopped as he reflected, no doubt feeling the traces of panic at the edges of Crowley’s emotions. Damn him and his god-given gifts. “Crowley, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing’s the matter. I’m just hungover, that’s all.” He barked, now climbing to his feet and never letting his gaze settle on something for more than a few seconds. CD player, Dresser, Bed – where was a safe spot to look.

“We both know neither of us get hungover. We just sweat out the alcohol.” A soft hand reached towards Crowley and that would be too much right now, so he moved towards the bed and pretended not to see it.

“I know. Normally I do, but I wanted to know what it felt like. It feels awful, by the way.” The demon took a spot on the bed, flopping down roughly on his stomach and burying his face in his pillows.

“If you don’t want to talk then you don’t have to, but at least look at me. My dear, it is like you are another person right now.” The sound of his bed shifting as the angel sat next to him and touched his shoulder. Oh no. Here it came. The revulsion and hatred for his betrayal. “I- Oh!” Aziraphale’s voice changed, softening and becoming delicate. Crowley could swear he heard a tinge of shame in there as well. It was easy enough to look past the fact that he was a demon most days, but he just knew this would be the line for his ineffable partner. It was one thing to hear someone was demon, it was another to feel the emotions from the fall from grace.

Without saying more he grabbed ahold of Crowley’s hand, petting it softly. That was all. It was such a simple gesture, but the wave of love that the demon felt in response was enough to overwhelm his senses. Stupid Aziraphale and his delicate hands, treating him with a wonderful care that someone like him didn’t deserve. The angel just held his hand and waited, his care showing in the touch of his fingertips as he gently stroked up and down the muscles. He just held his hand and waited, his care showing in the touch of his fingertips. The tenderness was enough to finally break the demon, causing tears to start sprouting which were blessedly hidden by the dark cloth on the pillow in front of him. It was the pain of the fall and the torment of forgiveness that tore at his heart and made it ache like a hole had been torn in it. However this pain was not filled with panic, just a wave of emotions. Whatever he had done, or hadn't done, to deserve this companion made all of this pain worth it.

“Angel, you don’t need to dirty your hands with mine. Not this time. I’ll be fine, really.” Crowley halfway mumbled, hoping it sounded stronger than he felt and knowing that he failed badly at keeping that hidden.

“They could never be dirtied by touching you. There is such a profound pain that you carry gracefully.” To emphasize his point, the hand was raised to his lips and a tender kiss was placed upon the knuckles. “My poor dear, I don’t know how you walk with such a hole in your chest.”

“I don’t,” Crowley laughed, bitterly, “I slither for a reason, angel.”

That was all that needed to be said, at least for the moment. Love was not always trying to fix the problems, but simply being there while the emotions were sorted through. Silence was needed and Aziraphale gladly gave it to his friend. However he never let go of his hand and Crowley never forgot that. The angel sat there, holding on and sending the most profound emotions of care through their connection til the pain subsided.

[littledonkeyburrito]

MY GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING POTATOES

1. When was the last time you ate something containing chocolate?  I had a couple of oreos earlier today

2. When in a car, where do you like to sit? You get a lot of choices when you’re the driver

3. Have you ever been lost in an unfamiliar setting? I have been lost in many countries. Thank god for Google’s offline maps

4. Are you the type that’s too ashamed to ask for or use directions? Thank god for Google’s offline maps

5. You overhear two people gossiping about you; what do you do? Nothing probably. I mean, what would they even have to say about me? I’m not interesting enough to talk about.

6. When you watch the news, how does it effect your mood? Either neutral or negative. That’s why I stopped watching/reading the news unless it’s an article I’m actually interested in.

7. Do you ever have anxiety attacks? Fortunately no. I had one panic attack when I was like 12 but I didn’t even realise it was a panic attack until many years later.

8. Have you been to the library in your city any time recently? I don’t even know where any libraries are in this city.

9. Would you ever wish to move to another country? Who, me? 

10. Have you ever had anything expensive stolen from you? MY GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING POTATOES. Look, this happened 3 years ago and I am still bitter about it. I don’t even care about the cash they stole from my wallet, I’m just angry they broke into my apartment and stole my potatoes.

11. What is your stance on getting revenge? Power stance for optimal stability

12. When was the last time you sent someone a friend request on Facebook? No idea

13. How do you decide whether to accept or not accept a friend request? Well, if I don’t know them I don’t accept.

14. Can you smell anything right now? No but you’ve reminded me that I have to put the trash out before I do.

15. Have you spoken to a relative on the phone today? Yeah I skyped mum this morning

16. Do you wear your hair up or down most often? I have short hair. But I do put the fringe up when it’s a bit shorter or when I’m going out.

17. What was the first thing you ate today? Leftovers

18. Do you have anything more important you should be doing right now? I gave up on trying to contact my internet company today. It can wait. Although I do also need to email my bank and ask about procedure for closing accounts.

19. Have you ever eaten tofu and if so, did you enjoy it? It’s fine. Certain types are freaking delicious but most is very mediocre.

20. Can you hear anything right now? Music on youtube

21. What was the last type of meat you ate? Beef

22. Have you taken any medication today? No

23. Have you ever been suspended from school? Yes, I was suspended once for fighting.

24. Have you ever inhaled helium? I have almost passed out from inhaling helium and, while it was a little bit fun, I don’t recommend it.

25. Have you bought something that was on sale today? No. Almost booked a first aid course but I’m going to wait.

26. Have you ever watched Parks and Recreation? Yeah

27. Have you watched a movie this week? No, I don’t think I have

28. Have you ever been to a wedding? I’ve been to a few family weddings. The first of my friends is getting married at the end of the year and I’m a groomsman. They couldn’t stand the thought of seeing me in a dress at their wedding so I’ll be on his side.

29. Do you keep magazines by your toilet? In the age of smartphones? No.

30. What did you last take a picture of with your camera? Food haha

31. The last time you got dressed up, where did you go? I have no idea

32. Is chapstick a necessity for you? If I haven’t drunk enough water or I’ve had salty food, yes.

33. What are you listening to? Estaré - DLD

34. Are you happy? sure, I’m content. I’m under the blankets in bed with the heater going, messaging with a friend. I’m going to London tomorrow and back to Australia and all my friends in 2 weeks.

35. What time is it? 8pm. I’m probably going to sleep soon.

36. Is there a high chance of you going out to the movies soon? I will watch movies with my mum when I’m back in aus.

37. Is anyone interested in you right now? I think my ex is getting kinda keen about me coming back to australia

38. Are you good at giving directions? Yeah because my mum hates bad directions so she taught me how to read a map as a kid so I could direct her when she was lost while driving.

39. Have you ever kissed in the rain? I don’t think so. I’m not big on pda so I haven’t kissed outside much.

40. How did you feel when you woke up? Surprisingly awake even thought it wasn’t even 9am. Now I’m tired af though.

41. Have you ever driven without a license? I learned to drive when I was a kid, so yeah. But not on roads, just property.

42. What color shirt are you wearing? It’s white with mickey mouses all over it. I got it at disneyland in hong kong a couple of years ago.

43. What are you most looking forward to tomorrow? Going to London, obviously.

44. Have you ever made out on a couch? Yes

45. What does your last message say? Goodnight patrick

46. As of this minute, what is going through your mind? All the crap I have to organise to move country again

47. When’s the next time you’ll be drinking? I’ll be in England tomorrow night so probably tomorrow night.

48. Captain Morgan or Smirnoff? Captain Morgan. I am not a vodka person.

49. Predict what will happen this weekend. I will be in London and it will be fun.

50. Have you ever been drunk at school or work? I’ve been drunk at the office but not while on duty. It was the christmas party.

51. Have you finished school yet? 6 years ago.

52. What was the last thing you complained about? Probably that it was cold.

53. What is your favorite kind of fruit juice? Fresh orange juice is good shit

54. Have you worn a necklace today? In all honesty I had kind of forgotten that necklaces exist because it’s been so long since I wore one.

55. Have you ever had an x-ray? Only on my teeth

56. Do you know anyone who was born overseas? Me, for a start.

57. Have you been to the movies lately? What movie did you see anyways? Last thing I saw at the cinemas was Coco. Still need to see Star Wars and Jumanji. And Paddington 2 but I’ll ave to wait until that’s on netflix.

58. Have you ever owned a golf-cart before? What color was it anyways? People OWN golf carts???

59. What is the color of the curtains in the room you’re in right now? White.

60. Have you ever done anything dangerous enough to have risked your life? Probably. Heavy drinking? Skiing without a helmet? Not wearing a seatbelt?

61. Do you get embarrassed when your parents talk about when you were a baby? No..?

62. Do you think anyone who is in the room with you right now is really mean? I’m alone. Whether that’s a yes or a no is up to your interpretation.

63. Do you get nervous easily? Yes

64. Do you get horny a lot? God, so much

65. Do you acknowledge your feelings or ignore them? Bottle, suppress, and ignore

66. What are you listening to at the moment? Branded - Nathan Sharp. I don’t really know who he is but he came up on the youtube mix and I kinda dig it.

67. Name all the pets you’ve ever had. Chablis (aka Shabby), Brie, Sparkle, Hob-nob.

68. Do you prefer being on time, or do you not mind being late? I'm always stressed if I’m running late.

69. What is one adventurous thing you’d be willing to do? I’m down for a lot of things.  70. Have you ever made a bucket list? No, I do what I want when I want. I don’t need a list 71. What subject at school did you absolutely hate? Physics, even though I liked both science and maths. 72. How many cell phones have you gone through up till now? In my life I have had 6 73. Italian food or Chinese food? Chinese, always. I think italian food is overrated. It’s not bad, just not as good as people say 74. Ever studied a foreign language? Spanish 75. Don’t you hate it when your family eats all the ice cream at home? I don’t live with my family and I also don’t eat much icecream 76. Favorite flavor of gum? I don’t like gum. 77. Do you tend to be frugal, or are you more comfortable spending money? That depends how much money I have. I am very good at saving money and talking myself out of buying things I want even when I do have the spare money for it. But then I’ll also pay a deposit on a month long trip on impulse. 78. Ever played a team sport, or are you not sporty at all? I didn’t do team sports, I did karate. 79. Do you put posters on your bedroom walls? Not since I was a teenager 80. Do you sleep with one leg sticking out of the covers? When it’s not the middle of winter

81. Has anyone ever told you that you’re a good singer? Yes and it surprised me because it is Known that I cannot sing well. 82. How many email accounts do you have? Two, I don’t use one of them. 83. Are you a big fan of dessert? I suppose so but I don’t eat that much dessert stuff. I more often have cravings for savoury food. 84. Biggest trouble you’ve ever gotten into at school? Probably when I got suspended. 85. Does it bother you when you see a 6th grader with a bunch of gadgets? I don’t give a shit. You do you little buddy 86. Favorite pair of shoes? My maroon converse that I just had to throw out because I finally had to call time of death after they walked over a thousand kilometers in 11 countries and were totally falling apart and had holes in them and a random pink stain on one of the toes which I do not know how it happened. It was in a club in Panama but I don’t know the actual source of the pink. 87. Jalapeños: yay or nay? Yay 88. Did you ever play Minecraft? No 89. Can you sleep soundly with the light on? Yes. Benefits of being a shift worker for years is that you learn to sleep whenever you get a chance. Also being a traveller has helped too because now I can even sleep on planes which is a goddamn miracle. 90. Would you like to go ziplining someday? I went in Boquete in Panama. It was pretty rad.

91. Have a Tumblr account? No 92. Do you have a lot of hair on your arms? Or none at all? Like, a normal amount..? 93. Often misplace things, or are you very organized? All of my things have a place. 94. Get along with your siblings (if you have any) well? Not really. But the older we get the less we fight. 95. Ever crushed on a teacher? If so, what subject did he/she teach? My spanish teacher. I was an adult though so it was less weird. Also one of my karate senseis when I was a young teen. 96. Ever been to the Vatican?  No, but I’m sure I’ll go there whenever I eventually it up Italy.

[second-hand-heaven]

Tim Drake vs The Cold and Flu Aisle

Ao3

sequel to Conner Kent vs The Menstrual Hygiene Aisle

Summ: Tim Drake is a good bro, which is why he's staring at the cold and flu aisle in the pharmacy at 2am.

It's his night off, but Tim is still out on Gotham's streets at 2am. At least this time he's not wearing tights. As the pharmacy comes into sight, he slows his bike and pulls up to the curb.

Helmet off, he shakes out his hair before dismounting the bike. There’s no point fussing with his hair, though, as flicks up his jacket hood a moment later. In and out, that's the plan. He's got other places to be tonight, and being spotted at Tim Drake, billionaire's son, would be counter-productive.

The bell above the door barely musters a chime as he enters. He scans the store sharply, but he’s not looking for any threats. Well, he is, but not intentionally. He’s got his sights set on something other than vigilante justice tonight. Okay so, the cold and flu aisle. There it is. He catalogues each zone: child-appropriate treatments, “chemical free” treatments (Tim scoffs at it and moves along), sections for different types of coughs. Oddly enough, there's no section for treating a Kryptonian flu, which is a shame. That would be really helpful right about now. But Kon is half human after all, even if that half is taken from an evil megalomaniac. Surely some of this stuff should work on him?

With a shrug, he piles the products into his arms. Is it too much? Is he overly worried? Probably. It's just that Conner's never been sick before, not like this. So it's logical, then, to be concerned. Perfectly logical. He takes another packet of throat lozenges, just in case. Maybe should have grabbed a basket...

Waiting in line, because there was somehow a rush of customers this late at night, Tim spots something sitting on the shelving by the counter. It stares up at him with a stitched-on grin. Its left ear is flopped over, and on instinct Tim reaches out to fix it. The fur is impossibly soft, melting into Tim's palm. Its glass eyes plead with him, and he can’t say no. He adds it to his collection and finally makes it to the counter. The sullen cashier scans Tim's items slower than a goddamn sloth. Tim taps his foot impatiently.

Purchases tucked safely in his backpack, he heads out into Gotham's fog-drenched night. By some miracle, his bike is still by the curb and in one piece. Must be a quiet night for the rogues tonight. Revving his bike, he pulls away from the curb. He speeds back to the Manor; he's got a plane to catch.

Tim lands the Batplane in the empty field behind the Kent farm and jogs toward the house. The cloaking device hides it from view, although he shouldn't be gone too long.

The house is dark as he approaches. It should be, considering it's nearing 4am. He swings himself up to the open window with slightly less grace than usual.

“You could use the door, you know?” Kon says, his voice heavily congested. He sits up on the bed, switching on his bedside lamp. Pushing the blankets off his legs, he makes to stand before deciding against it, sinking down on the bed softly. He's wearing a ratty T-shirt and a pair of blue boxers, his hair loose from sleep and looking impossibly soft.

Tim nearly falls out the window. He's tired, okay? It’s definitely not because of the godly sight before him. Godly. Even sick with the flu Conner still manages to look like a freaking model. It's so not fair.

To cover for his earlier unbalance, he enters the room with a move he learned from Nightwing, a flip with just a touch of Dick’s brand of showmanship. Kon grins at the display, and it makes his chest tighten. He can picture the teasing he'd get from the rest if the bats, but none of his siblings are here to laugh about his useless crush anyway.

“I could,” he says, crossing the room, “but you never do me that courtesy when you come to visit.”

Kon lays back against the bed. “Yeah, but I can fly.” His shirt rides up a little, showing a ribbon of skin just above his waistband. Tim's eyes linger there a moment too long. He sits on the bed, an arms reach away from Kon.

“Not at the moment you can't.” It's true. Kon called him after he sneezed mid-air and flew backwards into a grain silo. He's been grounded since, but this cold hasn't budged. Hence why Tim's here with heavy artillery.

“Ugh,” Kon groans, throwing a hand across his eyes. “I hate this. How can people live like this?”

Human. Kon must feel horribly human, weakened by a common bug. Or perhaps not a common bug, considering its a Kryptonian strain. “It's a good thing I brought supplies then.” He opens his backpack and catalogues each item. Tissues (he insists on the kind that's infused with aloe vera), cold and flu tablets, two bottles of water, a thermos of Alfred's chicken soup, some vaporub, lozenges, and the blue teddy bear. Excellent. He lays it all out on the bed.

Kon props himself up on an elbow, watching. “Tim, you didn't have to…”

No, but he wanted to. That's what friends do, right? They look after each other. And besides, he kind of owes Kon after the tampon incident. “Of course I did. The Kent's are out of town; I didn't want you to be alone.” He knows firsthand how much it sucks to be sick alone.

There's a genuine smile on Kon's face, softer than his usual player grin. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.” He picks up the packet of cold and flu tablets, popping the blister packets and catching the pills in his hand.

“Maybe you should go a little easy on those…” But Conner pays him no mind, downing half the pills with a gulp of water. The bob of his Adam’s apple is tantalising to watch. Tim looks away, feeling a flush rising from beneath his collar.

“I'm Kryptonian, it won't affect me that much.”

“Half Kryptonian,” Tim reminds him, “but either way you shouldn't have these in an empty stomach.” He reaches for the thermos and unscrews the lid. He pours the contents into the cap and passes it to Kon. “Alfred made you some soup.”

Kon looks up at him in confusion. “He made me soup?”

He was the one to offer. Alfred's got a soft spot for Kon, ever since he found out about Kon's late night misadventures in the menstrual hygiene aisle. According to the Brit, Conner had proved himself to be “a fine young gentleman”, and was now apparently privy to soup privileges. Which is a big deal in the Wayne household, let it be known.

He takes a cautious sip, then his face lights up. “This is amazing. I love Alfred. I love him so much. He made me soup. He's my grandpa now, I'm adopting him.”

Tim barely holds back a laugh. “I don't think that's how it works, bro.”

“I don't care. I'll marry into the Wayne family if I have to.”

Marry into the… wow. Is this where he pastes a sign on his forehead saying ‘I'm single, marry me’? Perhaps not, it might seem a little desperate. “Cass is out of the question, unless you want to fight Steph to the death. Although, I hear Batcow is single.”

Conner shudders. “I live in the country, Tim. Please don't joke about that.”

Gross. Tim takes the tub of vaporub from the bed and hands it to Kon. “It should help with the congestion,” he explains.

Kon stares at it, but makes no move to open it.

“Let me,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Shirt off.”

Tim unscrews the lid and dips two fingers into jelly. Pungent, it should do the trick to clear the congestion.

He turns back to Kon and pauses. He's seen Kon without his shirt plenty of times, but this is… it's much more intimate this time.

Kon jumps at the first touch. “It's cold.”

“It's the menthol, you'll be fine,” Tim says, keeping his eyes on the task at hand. As if anything could distract him right now. The expanse of toned muscle, hairless tanned skin, keeps his attention like the most vexing puzzle. He wants to lick it. Probably not the best idea for numerous reasons, first and foremost being the horrid taste if the vaporub.

He works the jelly into Kon's skin, massaging gently at his chest. The contrast between his pale, scarred hands, and Kon's golden skin is gorgeous. Gradually, he works his way upward, to Kon's throat. He feels Kon swallow, the bob of his Adam’s apple beneath his finger. His hand stills against Kon's throat, resting there. What would it be like to squeeze it? What sounds would he make?

Conner's eyes are wide, lips parted. “Tim.” His voice is low, tight. It's so hot. “Tim?” he repeats, more concerned this time.

Tim pulls back, clearing his throat. “That should do it.” He wipes off his hand on his jeans, avoiding meeting Kon's gaze.

“What's that?” Kon says, breaking the awkward silence. When Tim finally glances over, he sees Kon pointing at the bear.

He feels himself blush. “Oh, um, I got this for you.” He picks up the soft toy and passes it to Kon. “Kids like to have soft toys when they're sick.”

Kon is in awe of the blue-furred bear. “I've never had one before.”

Oh. Of course Cadmus would never have given the growing Superman clone a toy, but the realisation hits him hard. Kon never had a soft toy before? Shit, he never even had a childhood. And isn't that a little heartbreaking?

Kon stares at the fluffy bear in his hand, thumb absently stroking the fur.

“Well now you do.” Tim tries and fails to read his expression. Is he okay? Was it too much?

He's enveloped in a hug, tight, cutting off his train of thought. “Kon?”

“Sorry.” Kon jerks back. “I-uh, I don't want you to get sick.”

It's sweet, really, but Tim couldn't care less about getting sick right now. He wants Conner's arms around him again. “It's a Kryptonian cold, and oddly enough I have no Kryptonian in me.”

There's a dopey grin spread across Kon's face. Seems like the medicine has started to kick in. “Would you like some?”

Tim nearly chokes on his tongue. “What?” Surely he misheard...

“Would you like some Kryptonian in you?” Conner giggles.

Tim doesn't answer, instead he shoves against Kon's shoulder that's shaking with laughter.

In all honesty, he would. He most certainly would, but that seems like a weird thing to admit to his best friend. But then again, said best friend was the one who brought it up. Having some Kryptonian in him is like, ninety five percent of his fantasy material. But that doesn't matter. Kon is his friend. No matter what happens, no matter his feelings, that is the most important thing. And besides, Kon's obviously too hopped up on whatever was in those cold and flu tablets to actually mean it.

He rolls his eyes at Kon's antics and starts gathering his backpack. It's late, he should head back to Gotham before the sun is up. He stands from the bed and heads over to the window. The floorboards groan with each step, grown unused to being stepped on. “Get some sleep, Kon. Let me know how you're feeling in the morning.”

“Stay,” Kon says with a pout.

God, he wants to. But he needs to get back. If he stays, he's not sure how to stop things from being weird. He opens the window, about to slide though, but Kon halts him with a single word.

“Please?” There's a vulnerability in his plea.

Kon wants him, wants him here. Tim can't bring himself to fight it. His backpack drops to the floor. He kicks off his boots and starts undressing. Down to his T-shirt and boxers, he lays down on the bed beside Kon. “Batman is going to kill me.”

Kon pulls the covers up over them and scoots closer. There's no need to be so close, not really, but it's not like Tim's about to complain.

Spooning Tim's form, he murmurs, “I won't let him.” His arms tighten around Tim's torso. “He'll have to go through me.”

Which, in hindsight, Bruce would be quite capable of. He's got enough fail-safes for dealing with full-blooded Kryptonians; Conner wouldn't be an issue for him. But that's not what matters. Tim and Kon protect one another, look after each other, and the assurance of Kon's words let's an odd emotion wash over him. Safe. He feels safe. Wasn't he supposed to be comforting Kon, not the other way around? Regardless, he basks in it, basks in the warmth of Conner's arms, just like he did that night at the Manor. The reality is so much better than the memory of being held.

“Hey, Kon?” The words escape his lips before he can stop them.

“Mmyeah?” he answers, voice heavy with drowsiness.

“We’re a good team, aren't we? We have each others backs.”

“‘course.”

“And nothing would change that?”

“Never.” Kon's breathing is even against the back of his neck. He seems earnest, even a hair's breadth away from sleep.

But his useless feelings for Kon certainly might. That's the kicker, that's what he's afraid of. It's so dumb. He's so dumb. How could he let this happen? How could he fall for his best friend like this? They're friends, best friends. Maybe they can get through this, get over Tim's inconvenient and rather unhelpful crush, and not lose their friendship in the process. Reassured, Tim turns in Kon's arms to face him. Conner's eyes are closed, lashes heavy on his cheekbone. “Kon?”

Conner doesn't reply.

Good. One day he'll have the guts to say this while Conner's awake. But today is not that day. He steels himself with a deep breath. “I like you. A lot. I want to tell you just how much, but I'm so scared I'll lose you. And I can't. I can't lose you. Not again.” Fuck, he’s such a coward. His eyes burn. “I'm scared to love you, Kon, because it's going to hurt.” He watches Kon's sleeping face, unmarred and so so beautiful, and he just melts. “It already does.”

“S’okay,” Conner mumbles, pulling Tim to his chest. “I'm scared too.��

FIN

[lahallucinations]

hot and cold

A.N: the tater/aunt judy fic nobody asked for. except maybe @garden-of-succulents

based on this ask: x

“Come on, Mama you have to know of something that’ll help.” Bitty was well near whining now.“Darling you know as much as I call my recipes magic, they can’t magically heal a broken leg. Can’t even heal a broken heart.” “But Ma, he’s been here two weeks already and I know he’s in pain but I want some space. He’s hanging all over Jack like those puck bunnies do.”“Bitty, you should trust Jack and darling,  oh, I can’t believe I’m saying this because Judy is usually about as helpful  as a horse in a hospital but Judy might have a recipe for recovery.”Bitty almost gasped. This was never a thing that he expected out of his mother’s mouth. The rivalry between Judy and Suzanne had existed for as far back as Bitty could remember but he did love his aunt. When he was a kid, his aunt would watch musicals with him on a crappy old VCR while his mom was usually too busy for that. She bought him DVD’s of shows that had become part of the way he saw the world.He wondered if his mom ever blamed her for Bitty turning out gay. She’d never say that, the Bittles weren’t like that but there were subtle looks and innocent comments that said more.Bitty rung Judy after that and caught her up on the situation.She laughed. “Doll, do you think sugar can cure medical problems?”

“If not cure, it can make them heal faster. Aunt Judy, you and I both know that food is powerful and I really want my boyfriend to myself.”

“Huh, well, there is an apricot jam my grandmother used to make. Let me find the recipe, but I’m telling you now, I’m not sure this’ll work.”“Anything is better than that lug of an man all over Jack without letting me have a minute alone.”“I mean, honey, it’s not a bad problem to have. I certainly wouldn’t complain if I had a hunk of an NHL star on my couch.”“So it didn’t work with Daniel?”“Handling a real woman ain’t for everyone Bits.” Bitty hummed in response. They then said goodbye and he hung up. Apricot. He sure hoped the recipe worked.It was a few days later when Bitty brought the jam to Tater who was lying on the couch. “Here try it with some shortbread cookies I whipped up.”Tater ate almost an entire plate.“I’ve gotta say B. You’ve outdone yourself. This is delicious.”Bitty smiled. He might be annoyed at Tater but he was still his friend. “Hey get some sleep okay.”“And it doesn’t hurt?” Jack asked.“Nope. I don’t know what happened.”“What’s going on?” Bitty said.“I don’t know what miracle happened but Tater can walk, eh?”“What?”“Yeah. Watch,” Tater said as he moved his leg around.“Ohmygoditworked.”“What?”“I asked my aunt if she knew of any recipes to help you heal faster cause you know I couldn’t see you in pain,” Bitty was lying through his teeth but white lies made the world go around, “She gave me the recipe for that jam you had yesterday. I didn’t think it would actually work.” “I have to thank her, oh my god. I kept dreaming my hockey career was over. Can you give me her number, I want to thank her.”“Uh... I’m sure it’s fine. I’m just glad you’re back on your feet.”“B. My mother would kill me if I didn’t properly thank her. What does she like? Should I buy her something? But that’s not personal. Should I bring her some flowers? What does she like?”“Tater! She lives in Georgia. I’ll just pass on your thanks.”“I don’t want to be rude, I think I should visit. This is a big deal for me B.”“I mean it is the off-season and we could go with you?” Jack asked.“No, it’s fine. You two are busy, I’ll go myself.”Bitty wasn’t sure what was going on then but Tater was packing, booking plane tickets and that afternoon he took an Uber to the airport. Bitty had called his mother to tell her but he still was unsure about telling Judy, Tater had wanted to surprise her but he still thought it was better if she knew.He ended up doing and after an excited chat with Aunt Judy, Bitty went and collapsed into Jack’s arms. .....

истощениеExhaustion. That’s all Tater’s body had felt like for the past week. The pain seemed to rest deep in each bone of his body. He had almost yelled at the doctor, if only one was broken why did he feel like he had been run over everywhere, multiple times.The doctor had some bullshit about his body adapting that Tater half listened to but currently he felt invigorated.His grandmother used to make him Solyanka, to warm him up during the winter and she always said that warm food made with love, could fix everything. Judy had proven that to be true. A few hours later standing at her doorstep, he wondered whether he should be nervous. Most people would be, but Tater was always ready for anything. He knocked.A woman who had the same light hair as Bitty opened the door. She looked warm and Tater noticed the way her brown eyes twinkled.“Hello, I’m Alexi. Bitty’s friend. This is going to sound crazy but-”“Oh, I know who you are. I have to say Bitty getting me into hockey was amazing. You’re a wonderful player to watch, Mr. Mashkov.” “You knew I was coming?”“Yeah, Bitty didn’t want me to be caught off-guard.” Tater entered the house which smelled like sugar with a hint of lemon. “Oh no please call me Alexi, I came here to thank you, honestly I owe you a lot.” “Darling you owe me nothing, have a cup of tea with me if you really want to thank me.”“I have a gift for you, Keemun tea, it reminds me of home. Though I’ve seen the way Bitty eats, you might need a kilo of sugar to get it down.” Tater grinned at Judy. “Yes, that boy does have a sweet tooth. Let me get you some jam to go with that.” “I thought that was a Russian thing.” “Well, the Russians do know how to appreciate the finer things in life. You want some sponge cake with your tea? Or a biscuit?”“I’m okay with just the tea.”Ten minutes later, tea hot and piping and biscuits waiting to be devoured, Judy said, “So Alexi, tell me is it true you had to run away to play hockey?”“I don’t want to bore you with that.”“I doubt that is a boring story Mr. Mashkov and I promise I will interrupt you if I start falling asleep. Now go.” And so Tater did. He told her stories of his childhood, playing hockey with his dad and uncle and how much that shaped him. She surprised him then and asked, “Is he who put the drive in you?”“What?” Tater didn’t really understand what she meant.“Darling every time a parent discovers that their kid has talent, they turn into goddamn Simon Cowell, trying to make their kid into a star. My parents thought my sister was pretty and boy did they have a field day with that one. They put her in pageants, competitions you name it.”The realization dawns over Alexi. “Bitty’s mom was a beauty queen?”“Oh yes, she was Miss Georgia too. But that’s what I mean by drive, did your father do that for you?”“No. My father he liked rules. Stable. You know. My mother had dreams for me, she was a singer. She taught me how to dream big to take things, because nothing in life will ever be handed to you.”Alexi felt strange, sharing so much. He had only said two things but it felt more open than he had been to anyone in a long time. Sometimes he felt himself become the hockey robot. Giving the same short responses to journalists, fans and recently even friends. Judy poured him another cup. And they talked, their lives were as far apart as they could be. From the cold that could settle in so deep, you wondered whether blood was even able to run through veins anymore, to the heat that cooked you as if you were a rare steak on a barbecue. Their conversation hit deep points but also had its levity. Sometime during their third hour, Alexi brought up learning English through daytime TV.They spent the next hour watching Dr. Phil and then another Judge Judy.Towards the end of the afternoon Tater gets ready to say goodbye and promises to visit soon.“Oh, but you don’t have to spend time with an old lady like me out of obligation, go and live your life. I’m sure you have more exciting things to do.”“I like spending time with you. You’re a genuine person in a world where there aren’t many.”“You too sugar, you too.”“So it’s settled, I’ll be right here tomorrow?”“Actually tomorrow is the farmer’s market. Do you want to experience it? Because it is an experience.” Judy smiled through the sentence.“It’s a date.” Tater said as he left and Judy smiled wider than she had in many years.A part of her felt like a giggling schoolgirl again as she called her sister, partly to tell her that Bitty had wonderful friends and partly to squeal about the NHL star who she had plans with. She felt a rush of excitement, Alexi was a star, but he was also an anchor in way most people could never be. She wasn’t sure whether the had a future but she was eager to find out.

[indigo-inkpot]

Bubbles

From a discussion with my friend liz on twitter: What if Shiro loves bubblegum?

I just love the idea of him finding something similar on a planet and the next time they’re doing paperwork or something Pidge is slowly driven nuts by the GODDAMN POPPING WHERE IS IT COMING FROM. (Spoiler: it’s Shiro, Altean manuals are boring and he needed something to stop him grinding his teeth)

This fandom inspires me so much. I might go back and edit this, because Pidge’s reaction feels kinda abrupt, but for now I’m tired and I just wanted to get it written down so I can sleep ;~;

Galaxy Garrison, 3 years earlier

“Shiro, can you please unclench before you grind your way through your skull?” Matt sighed, shooting another paper plane across the dorm room, “I’ve only looked at you for - what, a minute? - and I can feel a sympathy migraine coming on!”

Shiro huffed through his nose, shifting his jaw side-to-side and working the stiff muscles. It made his ears feel odd, the strange motion, but it was the only way he knew to release the tightness that was spreading up his face and down his neck. He jerked back in surprise when a tiny brick, wrapped in yellow paper, bounced off his forehead.

“Gum? Really, Matt?” 

Matt shrugged, “Dude at this point I would take you chewing as obnoxiously as possible over watching you grind your teeth to the root. Just try the gum; it’s sugar-free, if that makes you feel any better?”

“Fine, I’ll try it. But if I don’t like it, you owe me three hours of study-”

“Done!”

“…in silence, Matt.”

Either way, Shiro wasn’t getting that peace and quiet.

Of all of the things that changed after the Kerberos mission, the last thing Shiro expected to miss was bubblegum. There was a lot to miss, sure, he missed his home, his favourite places, even some of the people. But when his jaw remained rigid for three days straight, or he had to give up on research because the pounding in his skull bounced between his temples and neck like a gremlin on speed, he really just wanted something to work out the tension. 

Trying to explain the nature of bubblegum to Coran had been confusing, embarrassing and downright disturbing; he’d left with something with a texture akin to toffee, but smelled like cheap disinfectant. No bubbles, and he damn near cracked a tooth on it.

Cue Matt: Shiro’s saving grace for the second time. Where he had managed to find candy in the middle of space, while also juggling his rebel duties, was just another miracle to add to the growing list of Holt family achievements. 

Over the first few months after Matt returned, he began dropping off little boxes inside Shiro’s room. (How he got in there goes on a separate Holt family list, but Shiro wasn’t exactly complaining.) Slowly, the Black Paladin began to amass a confectionery stash to rival Pidge’s hoard of gadgets in both size and variety. Many went unopened, either because they didn’t look particularly appetising or because Shiro just hadn’t felt brave enough to try them at the time, but of the ones he’d tried; the best by far was a strange pink gum. Apparently it had been suggested by Nyma, and the berries on the box looked similar to the ones Hunk cooked with, so he wasn’t too concerned about trying them.

It tasted awesome, like a hybrid between a strawberry and cherry, with a minty aftertaste. And most importantly, it could blow massive bubbles. 

He’d just received a new box from Matt (who had taken to gifting Shiro the ones he requested in wholesale levels of bulk) and Shiro was rather embarrassed to admit he’d gone more than a little overboard. There had been a few near-misses, when he’d left his room while still absent-mindedly chewing away. He’d rounded a corner and had to quickly swallow it so he could stop Lance rigging the air vent above Keith’s door with a bucket of water balloons. (Where had Lance found water balloons in- nope, actually, Shiro didn’t even want to ask that question.)

He really hoped this was the kind of gum you could swallow. He’d had enough awkward conversations with Coran to last him a lifetime, thank you very much.

Pop!

psshhhh…

Pidge’s head perked up, scrutinising the lab around them. Everyone was working on the latest information dump. Lance was sprawled on his back with his feet braced halfway up the wall, Hunk lying beside him, the right way up. Keith was pacing, cutting a complicated path between all the desks and chairs. Every time he passed too close, Lance would reach up and try to bat Keith’s feet out from underneath him, but would find himself neatly sidestepped every time. (Really, Keith’s sense of spacial awareness was impressive sometimes. Hard to believe that this was the same guy who walked into glass panels if he was caught in conversation.) Aside from the sound of Keith’s boots on the floor and the rubbing of Lance’s socks against the wall, they were practically silent.

Pop!

psshhhh… 

So where was that noise coming from?

Shiro was curled over a desk, facing away from Pidge. He was showing all the signs of having been working too long; his prosthetic stretched out across the table, his other hand tucked into the back of his neck, playing with his scalp where his undercut turned slightly soft and downy. His other key tell had been going steadily all night; the slow working of his jaw. Matt had always told Pidge that Shiro had bruxism bordering on chronic, which they figured was now a textbook definition, given that his worries had evolved from Garrison drama to life-or-death decisions.

Pop!

psshhhh…

“Alright!” Pidge snapped, slamming down the pad. “What in this room has sprung a leak because I’m about to go crazy with the duct tape!”

…

Pop!

“SHIRO!?”

…

psshhhh…

“Sorry, Pidge.” Shiro turned, licking pink gum from his lips, but at least he had the decency to look guilty about it.

“Wait, you have gum? You’d better be planning to share that, Shirogane!” 

[niigoki]

TWICE title: we’re a mess (let’s finish what we started) - Chapter 10 pairing: NaMo, MiMo, Saida, JeongMi, 2yeon, Chaeyu

Read on Ao3 or AFF

If Charles Darwin himself came to Im Nayeon with scientific proof that being awake for 24 hours relying on pure caffeine was unhealthy for your body and could cause numerous illnesses that would hinder the path for humanity’s evolution, she would look at him in the eyes, and call bullshit.

Nayeon was positive that coffee had been invented by a miracle-worker, and their sole purpose on this Earth was to give young adults the key to surviving increasingly difficult lives. The beverage was bitter, yes, and maybe it was making her entire body shake with the strength of a small-scale earthquake, but when she thought about the positive aspects of not having to sleep anymore, it didn’t feel so bad.

Nayeon had nine days to practice her singing, dancing, and memorize the dialogue for her musical and her commercials – those tasks became much less stressful when she had 8 extra hours her day to do so.

Who needs sleep, anyway?

“Nayeon, you’re eating your script.” The voice of her co-star sounded distant and reverberant, even though she was right by her side. Probably nothing Nayeon should concern herself about.

“Yes, Jennie, I need to get this as soon as possible.” Nayeon’s eyes were unfocused as she munched on her salad.

“No, I mean you’re literally biting a piece of your goddamn script.” Jennie removed what Nayeon thought was a leaf of lettuce out of her mouth, making her snap out of her dissociating state. Looking down, she saw the tip of paper wet and crumbled.

“Oh.” Nayeon blinked slowly, paused, then used her fork to get an actual leaf of lettuce. “I see.”

“Girl, are you okay?”

“I’m wonderful. Thank you for asking.”

“Yeah, that’s a no, then.”

Jennie was a sweet girl, and one of the first friends Nayeon made when she got into the Drama Club. She was pretty, dedicated, and the best dancer in the cast, everybody knew it. When their first play was announced, Nayeon and Jennie fought over the main role with blood, sweat and tears, but in the end, no one could really measure up to Nayeon’s talent. Jennie didn’t resent her for that, however, and only tried to get closer to her, to get some tips on acting. Nayeon felt incredibly relieved by that – other girls had eyed her with envy the first time Mr. Kwon had complimented her, but not Jennie. The two were close friends now, and supported each other on a daily basis.

However, Jennie was not part of the group of nine from high school, so she didn’t know Nayeon nearly well enough to realize when the girl was truly troubled; the fact that she did notice something was wrong was telling.

“I’m just focused on the task at hand,” Nayeon replied in a monotone, finishing her late lunch. It was three in the afternoon, and she had ordered delivery – eating backstage was prohibited, but everyone did it anyway.

“I could put my groceries in the bags under your eyes, honey,” Jennie said, sass dripping from her voice. “Are you resting properly?”

“Yes, I’m sleeping fine,” Nayeon lied, putting her utensils down. Eating while reading her lines had become a habit, so she didn’t lift her gaze. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You know that overexerting yourself won’t help, right?”

“Jennie,” she finally looked up, one hand curled into a fist on the table. “I can do this.”

The way the words had come out was strange, forced, as if Nayeon was talking to that awful voice inside her head. As usual, she needed to convince herself before she could convince anyone else.

And, as usual, she was failing at the task. But that was okay, because Nayeon was good at pretending.

“I never said you couldn’t.” Jennie was calm despite the outburst. “We all know you can. Hell, you’re good enough that we all collectively agreed that the main role should’ve gone to you, do you know how hard that is to accomplish?” Her impish smirk was a welcome sight in the middle of the chaos.

Nayeon chuckled a bit at that. “I know.”

The girl reached to rub her shoulder. “Don’t overdo it, okay?”

The more people worried about her, the more undeserving of their worries Nayeon felt. She grinned with her teeth, but it was a soulless expression. “I’ll do my best.”

After wiping her mouth and throwing away the plastic container and utensils, Nayeon got up and grabbed her bag, making her way towards the exit.

“Where are you going?” Jennie asked. “I thought you were going to rehearse.”

“I am,” Nayeon had one foot out of the door by the time she processed the question. “I need to practice the dance moves.”

It was a musical, after all.

Jennie waved her goodbye and told her to be careful, and Nayeon left the theater building. Her legs felt heavy, and the scorching sun on the way to the main building burned the back of her head with ridiculous intensity. It felt like she was walking on molten lava, and she was sure that she was seeing mirages in the distance. Nayeon blinked quickly, rubbed her eyes, and kept pressing on.

Entering the building was a relief; as soon as people stepped in, they could feel the comfortable chilliness of the air-conditioner. Nayeon paused for a second, a sudden dizziness attacking her sense of balance, and she leaned on a wall. She held her head, wiping the sweat out of her forehead with a groan.

“It’s just the change of temperature,” Nayeon whispered to herself. “You’re okay. Move on.”

She urged her legs to walk again, but there was a delay in her thoughts. Where was she going again?

Oh, right, the dance studio.

Nayeon frowned, trying to remember where it was located. She would have to go downstairs; her main concern right now was not falling face-first on the floor.

“Move.” She gritted her teeth, and finally, with much effort, started walking again, still touching her hand on the wall.

Her fingers slid on the surface, and it was a nice, raspy texture. The building was old, and everything in there was worn out; Nayeon worried that one day the place would just fall apart. The equipment used in the classrooms got heavier by the year, and she wasn’t sure that the wooden floors could take the weight.

She didn’t know why she was suddenly concerned about such trivial problems. Maybe it was to distract herself from her other, more pressing matters.

Was this her way of protecting herself from the thousands of turbulent thoughts going on in her brain? If so, Nayeon thought, then I’m good at not self-destructing.

“Either that, or I’m going crazy.” She paused. “I’m talking to myself. Wonderful.”

Nayeon finally reached the corridor and was about to turn, when someone bumped into her. With her legs already weakened and her body pretty much in another plane of existence by that point, Nayeon couldn’t hold on, and fell backwards. She closed her eyes and waited for the impact, but a strong arm wrapped around her torso, stopping her demise.

“I’m sorry!” That voice was familiar.

Nayeon opened her eyes, then rolled them. “Oh, great.”

Sleep-deprived Nayeon, as it turns out, had no filter.

Jeongyeon stared at her, blinking, then straightened both of them up, letting her go. “Good morning to you, too.” And because they’ve known each other for too long, Jeongyeon immediately frowned when she noticed her ex-girlfriend’s pale face. “Wow, are you okay?”

“Creative.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing, just—” Nayeon pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “Everyone’s been asking me that lately. You, Jennie, Jihyo, Mr. Kwon. I’m fine. Can we move past this?”

They stared at each other for a few seconds, and the atmosphere was awkward. Jeongyeon ruffled her blonde locks. “Fine, sorry I asked.”

“Ok, great.” She didn’t want to face the her right now, because looking at Jeongyeon’s loose shirt and eyes reminded her of how beautiful she was at the party, which reminded her of the kiss, which reminded her of her lies, which reminded her of the reason she was lying, which reminded her of her feelings for—

“I don’t have time for this,” Nayeon shook her head and walked past the girl. “I need to go.”

“Nayeon.” Jeongyeon grabbed her wrist gently, but Nayeon broke free with a violent tug.

“Don’t touch me.”

It was hostile. It was wrong. Saying that to Jeongyeon felt wrong, and Nayeon regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth.

But instead of feeling hurt and afraid, Jeongyeon just put both her hands up calmly. “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“No, I didn’t—” Nayeon’s heart was beating out of her ribcage. “I didn’t mean that. Not in that way.”

“I know.” A small smile made its way to Jeongyeon’s face. “You’re stressed. I get it.”

“Yeah,” Nayeon looked down, ashamed, then closed her eyes with a sigh. “I’m sorry, either way.” She opened them again, and allowed herself to stare at the girl for a second.

Jeongyeon’s shirt was too big for her, which was a cute look, but it kept exposing one shoulder; looking at it, Nayeon noticed something. Her gaze fell on slight crescent marks on her bare skin – four of them, lined up in a row. She frowned. “What’s that?”

“Huh?” Jeongyeon tilted her head to the side and when Nayeon pointed with her head, she looked down, then froze, pulling her collar back up. “Oh. That.”

There was no explanation for a moment, and Jeongyeon was averting her eyes, and that’s how Nayeon just knew. She was well familiar with that body language; the fidgety stance, the diminutive posture, as if she’d been caught committing a crime, the way Jeongyeon tensed almost imperceptibly – but Nayeon noticed it.

She noticed everything about Jeongyeon.

“…Oh.” Was all Nayeon said in return.

“That’s… something I need to talk to you about.”

“No. Just—” Exhaustion washed over her, and she couldn’t afford that right now. “I have a musical in nine days, followed by a day-long recording of five commercials that will really boost my chances for a profession in the area, and I can’t—” She stopped to breathe; it was like her lung capacity had been cut in half. “I can’t deal with… this, right now, on top of everything.”

“Nayeon…”

“Jeong, please. I can’t have my career falling apart, too.”

‘It’s all I have,’ crossed her mind.

She didn’t wait for Jeongyeon to reply, and finally left the corridor. The stairs felt wobbly under her feet, but she held on with all she had to the handrail, running downstairs in auto-pilot. The lower level of the building felt colder than usual, and it echoed with each step as she finally got to the studios.

Nayeon reached for the door handle, but it was like her hand passed right through it – a ghost filled with regret and pain. That’s when she realized that everything was blurry. Was she going to faint?

No, that wasn’t it. Nayeon felt wetness on her cheek and forcefully rubbed her eyes, slapping her face in the process. “Don’t cry. Stop crying. I’m not crying.”

Can you blame her for finding happiness somewhere else? With someone else?

“Go away. I’m not dealing with you, either.” She was glad that no one was around to hear her monologues. Maybe she was losing her mind.

You want to know, don’t you?

“No, I don’t.”

Lying to others might work, but lying to yourself just makes you look pathetic.

With another push, Nayeon finally touched the door, and snorted. “Fuck off.”

She rather liked scoffing at her inner voice.

She didn’t like thinking about Jeongyeon fucking someone else.

She was such a hypocrite.

  --

   Momo dragged her feet across the classroom, not in the slightest mood for her History of Dance class.

She’d been grumpy. Her roommate was passively pissing her off, one of her best friends was breaking her own heart, and her crush was acting strangely. Not to mention her own convoluted feelings that she’d been trying to avoid lately.

Momo was a wreck. She had wolfed down an entire plate of chocolate.

She couldn’t bail on class, however, seeing as she’d always had a hard time with the subject and her grades had been dangerously low throughout the semester. Fortunately for her, there was something about this snooze-fest of a course that made her whole day worthwhile.

When she spotted her target, Momo smiled, and approached her from behind.

“Guess who,” she whispered in Mina’s ear, covering her eyes with one hand. Mina jumped, startled, but soon relaxed, pressing her back against her best friend’s front.

“Momoring.” Mina had this way of calling her name that made Momo smile; perhaps it was the childhood memories attached.

“You’re no fun,” Momo teased, letting her go.

Mina turned to her with the brightest smile. “You’re too obvious.”

“Am I?” That’s when Momo noticed her expression. “You’re looking happy.”

“…I am,” Mina said, biting her lip and looking down. “Actually, I need to talk to you. Sana, too.”

The sudden shift in the mood was heavy, and Momo felt like something was either terribly wrong, or terribly right. She had a hunch, but the prospect of her being right made her stomach turn.

“What is it?”

Mina shook her head. “Later.”

At that point, the teacher walked in, yelling for everyone to sit down. Momo huffed, annoyed, but followed Mina to their seats.

The way they positioned themselves was the same ever since they could remember – Mina sat in front, and Momo sat behind her. Momo joked that she liked this arrangement, because this way she could always have her back; Mina would only roll her eyes, but smiled nonetheless.

It was cheesy, but when it came to the girl in front of her, Momo couldn’t help herself.

Mina loved the feeling of being protected. She grew up with a loving, wealthy family, but she’d always been introverted by nature. Speaking up was hard, so she hardly ever initiated a conversation with strangers; everyone else was always too loud. It was rare for her to feel welcomed anywhere.

Fortunately, as fate would have it, Momo and Sana walked into her life when she was very young. The two girls were also noisy like the other kids, but when they noticed Mina playing all alone, they decided that they would never allow her to feel left out again.

The two had kept their promise – they made Mina feel so safe. And, even though both had their own way of accomplishing that, Momo had always stood out.

They knew that Sana was more perceptive than she let on, but she also needed guidance for the most part. Momo, on the other hand, was always there, paying attention, making sure that Sana wouldn’t get lost on their way to the new school when they moved to the city, or holding Mina’s arm when it snowed so she wouldn’t trip. All these little gestures made Momo incredibly endearing in Mina’s eyes. She was glad to have someone like her by her side for so long.

When Mina first confessed that she was crushing on Jeongyeon, Momo made sure to be there for her every time she felt heartbroken. She would crash at Mina’s house suddenly with funny movies and candy in hands; she would ask her out on ‘friend dates’ when Jeongyeon and Nayeon were too busy to hang out with them; she danced with her at prom to distract her from the sadness of a hopeless crush. Momo had always been there, one way or another.

The thought made Momo’s heart skip a beat, apprehension taking its place inside her.

She leaned across her desk, reaching for Mina’s shoulders in front of her, and wrapping her arms around her loosely as the teacher spoke. Mina turned her head slightly, questioning, but Momo just traced her fingers on the girl’s collarbones softly. “Nothing. I just missed you, is all.”

She felt Mina’s fingers lacing with hers. “I missed you too.”

“Are you okay?”

“I am.”

Momo took a deep breath. “…Can’t you tell me your thing now?”

“Not now,” Mina rubbed Momo’s knuckles with her thumb. “Things are okay, though. Promise.”

Suddenly Mina’s cellphone vibrated, and she let go of Momo’s hands to check. The brunette couldn’t see who was texting her, but by the way Mina’s lips curled in an affectionate smile, she could guess.

Momo removed her hands and buried her head on her arms, closing her eyes.

She wanted to be wrong about this.

Class went by as smoothly as possible with Momo stealing glances at Mina’s constant lack of attention – it was like her phone was her lifeline, and whoever was talking to her had the answers to the mysteries of the universe. Mina wouldn’t drop the thing for one second, and the teacher actually scolded her for it at some point.

When the bell finally rang, the two got up. Mina put her phone in her bag, finally, and Momo eyed her. “Let’s go?”

“Yes.”

They left the building side by side, the sun hot in their heads. Momo wanted to hold her hand a little, but she didn’t. “Are we getting Sana?”

“She’s at the dorm already.”

“Oh, good.”

Silence followed, then Momo spoke again. “So… how’s your secret project going?”

“Oh, it’s— it’s almost finished.” There was stutter in her voice, and that didn’t go by unnoticed. “You’ll see it soon.”

“Right,” Momo blinked, a bit nervously. She put her hands on her pockets. “It’s hot today.”

“Very.”

The moment she had to start small talk to keep chatting with her best friend, Momo sighed. Something told her that what Mina was going to tell them was going to be life-changing.

Arriving at her room, Mina knocked on the door slightly, then opened it. Sana was sitting on their desk reading, and lifted her head at the sound. When she spotted her two best friends, she smiled, jumping out of the chair, and throwing her arms around Momo’s shoulders. “You didn’t drop out of college!”

Momo held her in place, laughing. “Excuse me?”

“I haven’t seen you in what, a week?” The girl placed a loud, sloppy kiss on Momo’s cheek, prompting her to drop Sana and wipe her face with the back of her hand.

“Ew, Sana!”

“Just one more!”

The two struggled for a while, with Sana tiptoeing to try and kiss every reachable part of Momo’s face, and Mina laughed. For a second, everything reminded her of their childhood days, with no problems and no complex feelings involved. She wished things weren’t so complicated.

Sana detached herself from Momo after several failed attempts, and the three girls finally sat on Mina’s bed, facing each other. Momo took off her shoes so she could be more comfortable, and prepared herself for whatever was coming. “Alright, we’re all here. What is it?”

Mina looked at the two girls for a moment, thinking long and hard about her words. She had no idea what Sana’s reaction was going to be, but she was sure that Momo would be shocked – especially after everything they had witnessed. However, Mina hoped that after mulling it over, Momo would understand, and be happy for her.

“…Okay,” Mina would go straight to the point, then. “Yesterday, something happened. Between… Jeongyeon and I.”

The two girls were quiet, processing that simple sentence. Mina saw Momo slowly clenching the sheet underneath them, then asking. “Something?”

“Yeah. We…” She would start slowly. “We kissed.”

“What??” Sana was fast, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. “You… you finally… how?!”

Momo was unusually quiet, and that scared Mina the most. But she did her best to answer Sana first. “My secret project… I was actually spending time with her, helping her with a short movie. Jeongyeon asked me to be her actress.”

“Nayeon is an actress.” Momo spit. That hurt Mina absurdly.

One fact about Hirai Momo: she didn’t have the best handle on her inhibitions when her temper was triggered—it was painfully apparent when something angered her. Words left her mouth without a second thought, and her honest feelings radiated through her every pore. She was unable to put up a front, and that could make her incredibly intimidating at times. Mina and Sana were used to it – and yet, at this moment, Mina felt like she had been struck right in the chest.

“Well, she asked me, instead,” Mina replied, trying to keep calm. She sort of expected a startled reaction.

“Interesting.”

“Momo?” Sana frowned at her.

“Go on.” Momo leaned back, crossing her arms.

“…Well, anyway,” Mina breathed out. “We’ve been spending time together, and I was tired of not doing anything, so… I finally did something.” She looked at Momo. “You always told me I should tell her soon, right?”

Momo threw her head back with a scoff. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am serious.” Mina was starting to feel defensive. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Why am I—” Momo couldn’t believe her ears. “No, you know what, go on. You two kissed, and then what?”

Sana kept moving her gaze from Mina to Momo, a bit anxious about all this.

“Well, she kissed me back. And then we…”

“You what?”

That was the hardest part, and Momo’s behavior wasn’t helping.

On second thought, however, maybe she was helping, because her childish actions compelled Mina to just throw it out there. “Then we slept together.”

The silence was jarring. Mina felt a blush crawling up her neck, but didn’t avert her eyes from Momo’s stare. A thousand emotions seemed to cross her face at that moment; shock, confusion, anger.

Pain.

“You did wha—”

“Hold the fuck on,” Sana interrupted, concerned about other things – and when she became curious, nothing in the world could stop her from getting her answer. “Where?! It wasn’t here,” She pointed at Momo. “It wasn’t in her room, either… Myoui Mina, where did you lose your virginity??”

It would’ve been funny if both girls weren’t towering over her threateningly. “Um… at the recording studio…”

“Holy shit.”

“Fuck that, you lost your virginity to Jeongyeon?!” Momo leaned forward, almost grabbing Mina’s shoulders. “How— That’s—”

“That’s what?” Mina challenged.

“I’m gonna kill her.”

“What, why?” This ticked Mina off. “It was great, for your information.”

Momo winced. The mood was hostile, but Sana couldn’t keep a snort in. She needed to know so many things at the same time, that her mouth wasn’t keeping up with her brain. “The studio— So you did it standing up? Or was it on a chair, or… no, wait, did she go down on you or was it just fingers?”

“Sana!” Momo and Mina interrupted their little war to scold their other friend.

“Excuse me, Mina just had her first time, I need details.”

“No, you don’t.” Mina’s face was beet red. “That’s not even the point!”

“I told you everything when I lost mine!”

“Because you wanted to, literally no one asked.” Momo groaned, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, don’t tell me you don’t want to know.”

“I really don’t.” There was truth in her words, and hurt in it as well. So Momo was right about her hunch, and it stung like a bitch. She had no idea how she would be able to face Jeongyeon from now on knowing that she did… things with her best friend.

Right after kissing her ex-girlfriend, too. The anger inside her was growing rapidly, beginning to burst at the seams.

“Anyway, that was the thing I needed to tell you.” Mina tried to finish this awkward conversation, but she knew that this topic wasn’t going to go away for a long time. Or at least until she answered all of Sana’s inquiries.

“…Fine. So, what are you now? You and Jeongyeon.” Momo asked, forcing the question out of her throat. She didn’t want to hear anything else about this, but she couldn’t leave the room without knowing all the details. This was her best friend, and even though she was mad, making sure Mina wasn’t hurt came first.

“I don’t… I don’t know.” Mina answered, looking down.

“Oh, you don’t know?” Momo became hostile again.

“Why are you yelling at me? I thought you’d be—”

“What? Happy for you? Mina, she lied.”

“We all lied, Momo.”

“Oh, and that somehow makes it better?!” Momo was fuming.

“Momo, please, just calm down for a second.” Sana intervened, having snapped out of her giddy state.

She hated to see the two of them fighting, but she understood the reason. Mina had told her that Jeongyeon and Nayeon had kissed at the party, so it really didn’t make sense for that to have happened. She also knew how overprotective Momo was, so the explosive reaction wasn’t a surprise either. Now, adding Momo’s feelings for Nayeon in the mix, things got a lot more complicated. Sana didn’t want to take sides.

“No, don’t tell me to calm down!” Momo got up from the bed, and paced around the room. She looked back at Mina. “Have you considered Nayeon’s feelings about this? At all?”

“Nayeon’s feelings? Momo, they broke up years ago!”

“They kissed last week.”

“If it had meant anything, Jeongyeon wouldn’t have lied!”

“If Nayeon meant anything to either of you, you wouldn’t be lying to her either!”

That implication was heavy, and Mina stopped, feeling extremely hurt. Sana got up as well, placing one hand on Momo’s shoulder to ease her, and another on Mina’s arm. “Guys, please. Yelling won’t solve anything.”

Mina was also angry, but unlike Momo, she would never direct it at her. It felt like Momo had something against her happiness suddenly, and Mina didn’t understand why she couldn’t accept that maybe Jeongyeon had moved on. She’s wanted this for so long, and Momo had always been supportive of her, so why was she attacking her like this now?

“I thought you, out of everyone, would be happy for me,” Mina said in a low voice, breaking the silence.

“Don’t do this,” Momo said, her emotional exhaustion finally catching up with her.

“You’ve always told me to keep trying, to confess to her soon, to… to stop running away from this. I finally did, and now you’re angry? I don’t understand.”

“I do want you to be happy, but not if…!” Momo stopped, catching her tongue before she said something that she wouldn’t be able to take back. Unfortunately for her, Mina knew her too well.

“…Not if it gets in the way of Nayeon’s happiness. Is that it?”

The pain in her tone was clear, and to think that Momo had caused this – it was killing her. Yes, she did want Mina to be happy with the girl she loved, but that was before Nayeon exposed her still-lingering feelings for her ex-girlfriend. Things were too fresh, everything was surrounded by lies; Jeongyeon might’ve moved on, but Nayeon clearly hasn’t.

Picturing Nayeon’s reaction to the news created a crevice inside Momo’s heart.

Hearing Mina’s broken-hearted pleas punctured her soul.

Momo wanted to protect both of them, equally.

She was going crazy.

“I can’t be here right now,” Momo said, finally, grabbing her shoes.

“Momo, wait.” Sana was still nervous; she flickered her eyes towards Mina. “Let’s talk about this.”

“Just let her go,” Mina mumbled, hugging her legs against her chest and looking to the opposite direction.

Momo pretended not to hear. Once she finally put on her shoes, she grabbed her bag and stormed off the room, slamming the door on her way out.

Mina’s eyes started stinging with unshed tears, and she rubbed them strongly. To think that her best friend, the person who grew up with her, and who knew every single thing about her life, cared more about Nayeon than her – that was worse than being rejected by Jeongyeon. Mina felt utterly betrayed.

Momo needed to cool down. She walked fast, making her way to the main building again.

Dancing always helped her let off steam.

  --

  “Ouch, ouch, ouch, careful, please…!” Chaeyoung whined, the coldness of the ice pack surrounding her broken knuckles and hurting like hell.

“If you would just stay still,” Tzuyu uttered, holding her friend’s hand carefully. She’d been helping with Chaeyoung’s healing process as soon as the girl walked into their dorm yesterday and confessed to her roommates what she’d done. Dahyun got worried at first, but it didn’t take long for her to make a joke out of the situation – Chaeyoung appreciated it. Tzuyu, however, was taking this a lot more seriously than people realized.

“Sorry,” Chaeyoung replied, relaxing now that the pack was in effect. “It’s hard to get used to this.”

“You should be more careful, then.”

“Yeah… I will.”

They kept in silence and Chaeyoung sighed internally. Tzuyu had been acting a bit cold towards her, and she didn’t know why; it was like they were treading on thin ice around each other, and it made Chaeyoung’s chest feel tight. It was triggering her anxiety.

She needed to ask her what was going on.

“Tzuyu, is there—”

The TV suddenly made an unbearably loud noise and all the three girls in the room jumped out of their beds. Dahyun immediately turned down the volume, a hand on her chest. “Who left the volume up?”

“Oh, that was me. Sorry.” Tzuyu raised one hand, embarrassed. “I was watching a live stream on ocean creatures. Aquatic organisms are pretty quiet.”

“…Tzuyu, these live streams have no sound.” Dahyun said, an eyebrow raised.

“Yes, I figured that out after pressing my ear to the TV for about five minutes.”

Chaeyoung crouched to grab the ice pack that had fallen on the floor, but took her sweet time getting up. She buried her face on her good hand, trying her hardest not to laugh, shoulders shaking with the effort. Tzuyu was so absurdly cute – Chaeyoung’s heart couldn’t handle it. It was like tiny fireworks exploded inside of her.

“Chaengie?” Tzuyu finally realized that her tiny friend was still on the floor.

“Yes, I’m okay.” Chaeyoung replied, getting up in a flash. She breathed in, sat back down, and placed the pack back on her hand.

The three girls rested their backs against the headboard as Dahyun skipped through the channels, and eventually decided to pull out the Netflix. Chaeyoung looked at her hand and tried to move her fingers slightly. She didn’t get so far, a harsh sting pulsating through her skin every time she moved the broken knuckles, so she sighed.

She side-eyed Tzuyu, then moved her gaze down to the girl’s hand. She wanted to hold it, like she usually did when they watched movies, but she couldn’t right now because Tzuyu was on her right side. That was the worst part of her injury so far.

“That’s a lot of romantic comedies on your queue,” Tzuyu said suddenly, looking at Dahyun.

“Huh?” The girl couldn’t keep a straight face for the life of her, and blushed nervously. “Oh, yes. I’ve been into them lately. You know. Just… silly stuff. To laugh about.”

Chaeyoung caught on the stuttering tone immediately and exchanged a look with Tzuyu. “Oh, really?”

“Yes.”

“So sci-fi and trashy horror movies don’t work anymore? You know, to make you laugh.” Chaeyoung smirked.

“I never said that.”

“Look, she even has dramas lined up!” Tzuyu joined in the teasing.

“You’re right, she does.”

“When was the last time Dahyun watched a cheesy drama?”

“Hmm… let me think. Was it back in middle school, when she thought she was crushing on that boy who gave her a carrot from his lunch box?”

“I think it was.”

“Listen,” Dahyun interrupted. “I’m just in a mood, okay?”

“Oh, we know,” Chaeyoung poked her tongue out through her smile. “A mood, alright.”

“Ugh, you’re unbelievable,” Dahyun was about to go back to the task at hand when her cellphone vibrated. She took it out of her pocket and read it, a huge smile plastered on her face. “And now you’re unbelievably alone.” Dahyun got up, putting on her shoes.

“Oh, go ahead, ditch us for your girlfriend,” Chaeyoung was still in a joking mood, but when she realized what that implied, she stopped completely – she absolutely forgot about Sana’s feelings for her stupid roommate. What if Dahyun was seeing someone else? That would definitely crush Sana’s spirit even more.

“She’s not my—” Dahyun threw her hands in the air. “I mean, it’s not what you’re thinking.”

Chaeyoung sat back up. “Wait, you’re actually seeing someone?”

“I’m just gonna go see Sana, alright?”

“Oh.” That was new. “Wait. As in… just hang out, or…”

Dahyun groaned loudly, letting go of her ties. “Chaeng. Just… let me figure this out on my own, okay?”

That sentence was weird, and it could mean a thousand different things. Chaeyoung was still overbearingly protective of Sana, so she just wanted to make sure that Dahyun’s dense ass wouldn’t end up hurting the girl. “Just tell me if—”

Tzuyu placed a hand on Chaeyoung’s shoulder. “Have fun, Dahyun.”

The artist turned to her, but had to give up when Tzuyu’s stare told her ‘stop it’. Dahyun nodded and finally finished tying her shoes, getting up.

“See you.” She left the room with happy little jumps.

Once the door closed, Tzuyu grabbed the remote, flipping through the list of movies. Chaeyoung stared at her, waiting.

“I wish you would stop doing this.” Tzuyu finally said, without sparing her a glance.

“Doing what?”

“Getting into everyone’s business.”

“What? I don’t—”

“And leaving me out of everything.”

Chaeyoung froze, the weight of the girl next to her suddenly heavy. She blinked, trying to process that, but just got ultimately confused. “Tzuyu, what are you talking about?”

“Why are you so worked up over Dahyun’s love life?”

“I just… I was just curious.” Chaeyoung didn’t know why she was keeping this a secret. Maybe it was to keep Sana’s feelings safe; leaking it out to everyone might make the rumors spread faster, and her condition might get worse.

“What made you so angry you had to punch a wall?”

“That’s…” While she did tell them the truth about her hand, she omitted the reason – again, another way to protect Sana.

Tzuyu dropped the remote and finally faced Chaeyoung with a frustrated stare. “You’re lying to me. Why are you keeping things a secret? You know something, and you’re not telling me, Son Chaeyoung.” It was rare for Tzuyu to call her by her full name, so that indicated how serious she was.

“I’m not lying, I’m just…”

“You don’t trust me anymore?”

That hurt more than Chaeyoung anticipated, and she was sure Tzuyu was about to cry. In a desperate gesture, the tiny girl grabbed Tzuyu’s hand with her left, shaking her head hastily. “No, no, that’s not it! Of course I trust you, God—” She choked up. “Tzuyu, you’re the person I trust the most in the world.”

They looked into each other’s eyes, both trying to find what had been lost along the way. Chaeyoung and Tzuyu were best friends; they’ve always been, and they always would be. Nothing else mattered as long as they were together, and they didn’t keep secrets from each other. That was their motto, that was their whole life.

Tzuyu turned her palm upwards, lacing their fingers together, and that was all it took for Chaeyoung to remember that.

The girl in front of her wasn’t some stranger that would ruin Sana’s reputation – she was Chou Tzuyu. This was Chaeyoung’s best friend.

This was the girl Chaeyoung loved.

She felt incredibly stupid.

“…I’m an idiot.” Chaeyoung breathed out. “You’re right. You’re always right. I’m sorry.”

Tzuyu tugged at the girl, making her fall on her lap. That was a familiar and comfortable spot, and Chaeyoung allowed herself to relax despite her racing heart. She just stared at her friend from below, and sighed when Tzuyu started running her fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp slightly. “You’re not an idiot.”

Chaeyoung closed her eyes, and just listened.

“You’re stubborn, yes. And I know you just want to protect everyone.” Her voice was calm and delicate, much like herself. “But you can’t carry everyone’s burdens on your shoulders.” She paused with a soft giggle. “They’re not even broad enough for that.”

Chaeyoung allowed herself a chuckle at that. “Hey…”

Tzuyu smiled, bringing one finger to the girl’s forehead, tracing all the way down her nose and cheeks. “So I wish you would let me help you, too. No more secrets, at least from me. Please, Chaengie.” Her voice broke. “…I don’t want to lose you.”

Chaeyoung’s eyes flew open and Tzuyu let a tiny tear fall. She sat up, cupping Tzuyu’s cheek and rubbing her thumb there gently to wipe the wetness. “Okay. No more secrets, I promise.” She smiled weakly. “Just… don’t cry. You know I can’t handle it when you cry.”

The tall girl sniffed, nodding. She placed a hand on top of Chaeyoung’s. “I hate crying, anyway. My face gets all ugly and gross.”

“You could never be ugly, nor gross.”

Tzuyu rolled her eyes and smiled, with a faint blush. “Please.”

“I mean it,” Chaeyoung wouldn’t stand for this. “You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

The sentence wasn’t met with an amused comeback, and Chaeyoung noticed that she’d been more serious than she realized. She cleared her throat, finally letting go of the girl’s cheek. “Anyway. T-the things I need to tell you.”

“R-right.” Tzuyu blinked, snapping out of it. The compliment had made something gnaw at her stomach, but she ignored it.

Chaeyoung told her everything; about Sana’s feelings for Dahyun, Momo’s weird behavior at the cafeteria, Sana’s anxiety attacks, and the reason she smashed her hand into a wall. Tzuyu gritted her teeth when she heard about the rumors, disbelief washing over her face.

“That is so awful. Sana never did anything wrong.”

“I know,” Chaeyoung hated remembering those girls faces, but she saw them every time she closed her eyes. “I couldn’t hold myself back.”

Tzuyu looked back at Chaeyoung’s hand, and took it on a gentle hold. “I wish you wouldn’t hurt yourself like this.”

“…That’s something else I need to tell you.” Now that she got to her secrets, Chaeyoung was hesitating.

“What?”

She took a deep breath. “I talked to the nurse. She told me… to go see the psychologist about these angry outbursts. She was afraid I might direct it at a person, at some point.” Chaeyoung swallowed hard. “I’m… scared, Tzuyu. I don't wanna hurt people.”

Tzuyu watched her with affection, without a single drop of judgement. “Well, I’m not scared of you. Because I know you.” She touched their knees together. “And, to be honest, I noticed that your outbursts were getting more… worrying? I just couldn’t find a good time to talk to you about it. I’m sorry, I should have.”

“Oh… wait, you knew?” Chaeyoung thought that this was her most well-hidden secret.

“Chaengie, I’m your best friend. Of course I knew.”

She suddenly felt like Tzuyu knew a lot more about her than she let on, and her heart started beating a little faster. What else was she aware of? Chaeyoung promised no more secrets, but that didn’t mean that she would just unlock her perfectly hidden vault of anxiety-induced fears.

She could never tell Tzuyu about her feelings for her.

That was the one thing she would never reveal.

“I have things to tell you, too,” Tzuyu interrupted her flow of thoughts, turning serious again. “I talked to Jihyo. And there’s… a very complicated thing happening.”

“Complicated?” Chaeyoung calmed down, thankful for the distraction.

“Yes. I’m going to tell you, because we promised no more secrets between us. But this can’t get out, not yet.”

Chaeyoung frowned, confused. Tzuyu just approached her, and whispered in her ear.

As soon as she was done, Chaeyoung leaned back. Then, slowly, she mouthed, “Oh, no.”

  --

  Nayeon froze in the middle of her routine as soon as she saw Momo walking in. She slouched her shoulders and turned to the girl, who was also rooted into place. And, because of her lack of sleep, the words came out harsher than she intended. “What are you doing here?”

“Dancing?” Momo frowned. “Why, did you make a reservation for this room?”

It really was a dumb question and Nayeon just shook her head. “No. I’m sorry, I didn’t… mean to shun you.”

“I can go to another one, if you want.”

“No,” She didn’t have the energy to think, so her emotions spoke for her. “You can stay.”

“Are you sure?” Momo didn’t know if that was a good idea, but all her doubts vanished when Nayeon motioned her to come in and close the door.

“I want you to stay.”

It was hard to refuse.

Momo looked around to make sure no one else would bother them, and closed the door. She walked up to Nayeon, and started stretching, looking at her reflection in the mirror. Nayeon stared at her friend’s gorgeous body for a second before rubbing her tired eyes and going back to her rehearsal.

It didn’t take long for Momo to notice that Nayeon was slipping, making mistakes on her steps that didn’t make sense, and just plain irritated with how everything was coming out. She grunted and muttered under her breath out loud, and at some point, she nearly kicked the mirror from being too close. Momo touched her forearm.

“You’re not focused.”

“I’m the embodiment of focus, Hirai Momo.”

For some reason this made an amused smile grace Momo’s lips. “Yes, you are, but right now you’re just stumbling around like an amateur.”

Nayeon turned to her with a livid expression, but just let her mouth hang open without a sound. Momo laughed a little, pushing her chin back, closing it. “Boop.”

“Don’t boop me.” Nayeon stepped back, huffing. “I need to get this soon. What am I doing wrong, then? Teach me.”

“I don’t know your dance routine.” Momo replied with a neutral expression.

“I’ll teach you, then you can teach me back.”

“That… sounds incredibly hard.”

“Well, then what am I supposed to do?!” Nayeon yelled and Momo jumped, startled. Nayeon felt guilt wash over her. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

Momo didn’t say anything; that’s when she really took a good look at her friend’s face and noticed the terrible condition she was in – the dark circles under her eyes, the thin lines on her cheeks, her pale, almost sickly skin, her pupils dilated. Looking down at her hands, she noticed the faint shaking as well.

Momo approached her and took her hand, talking in a gentle tone. “Have you been sleeping?”

“I don’t have time to sleep,” Nayeon replied with a shudder; she was going to try to pull away, but she didn’t want to.

She wanted to rest, and she wanted to rest against Momo, and she didn’t want to think about Jeongyeon and the marks on her shoulder, and the way she looked at her when she’d been caught, because she wasn’t even hers to begin with, not anymore, they broke up, and the regret was too much to bear, and Momo was right there, and she just—

Momo let her go suddenly and pulled up her phone, plugging it on the speakers. Nayeon just followed her with her gaze, unmoving. As soon as Momo found the song she wanted, she pressed play, and returned to Nayeon’s side.

The soothing, romantic voice echoed through the room, accompanied by a violin and a gentle tambourine in the back. Momo was close. They exchanged looks, then Momo let her fingertips slide softly up Nayeon’s arms, until her elbow. She urged the girl to wrap her arms around her shoulders, then touched her waist.

“Dance with me,” Momo breathed against Nayeon’s lips.

Nayeon swallowed, and let herself be taken – for one moment, she stopped fighting.

They started with slow steps, swaying side to side to the tender beat. It was their thing, dancing – they danced when they were happy, they danced when they were worried, and they danced when they were tired and wanted to forget their problems. It’s always been like this, and Nayeon had a feeling that she was in love with this habit.

Her cheeks reddened with each movement of their bodies, so she looked down, away from Momo’s loving gaze. With a big sigh, she closed her eyes and felt the environment around her; her fingers grazed Momo’s hair a little, and she smelled her perfume. It was familiar and nice, like everything Momo did.

Her heartbeat finally slowed down after a long day of caffeine-induced palpitations, and her muscles relaxed under Momo’s touch. Nayeon let her head fall on the crook of the girl’s neck at some point, unable to resist.

Momo exhaled against her hair, pulling her closer, until their chests touched. Having Nayeon on her arms like this made her feel a little less angry at the world, and she let her hands roam the girl’s back, tracing circles there. She felt Nayeon’s eyelashes fluttering against her neck and smiled on her hair. Their dance had turned into a simple, but profound hug.

Momo didn’t want to tell her about Mina and Jeongyeon. She didn’t want to think about it, because it just made her heart ache and her head dizzy with conflicting thoughts that she wouldn’t be able to resolve.

Nayeon deserved the whole world, and Momo wanted to give her that – but she couldn’t. Jeongyeon was the only one who would ever make Nayeon happy, and Momo had somewhat accepted that after that party. For a brief moment, she’d let herself believe that Nayeon had moved on, but that was okay. As long as Nayeon was happy, Momo was happy too.

So why couldn’t she do the same for Mina? She felt the same for her best friend – everything she wanted was her happiness.

“…Not if it gets in the way of Nayeon’s happiness. Is that it?”

Momo sighed at the words. That was true – partially. But something else ached in her chest.

The taste of Mina’s tongue was still fresh in her mouth. Everything was so confusing.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Momo confessed on a breathy whisper. She expected a question to follow, but Nayeon’s weight suddenly got a lot heavier, and Momo had to hold her up. “Nabongs?”

The girl just snored slightly against her shoulder. Momo blinked, trying to wrap her head around the fact that Nayeon had literally slept on her as they danced. With a grin, she dragged her, so they could sit against the studio’s wall.

Momo adjusted Nayeon’s position until she was finally comfortably leaning on her shoulder. Nayeon unconsciously moved her arm, settling it across Momo’s waist, and pulling her close like a giant teddy bear; Momo chuckled, tangling her fingers on her hair slowly.

She looked down at the girl who was now drooling on her shirt, and let out a breathy laugh. Nayeon was probably exhausted, but she was still stubborn to the end; she kept refusing help, but Momo knew she needed it. Right then and there, Momo promised to stay by her side, no matter what.

Her feelings were all over the place, and new emotions might’ve been growing inside her heart, but there was one thing Momo was absolutely certain about.

Carefully, she traced one finger into Nayeon’s back, writing a silent confession.

‘I love you.’

Then she pressed a kiss to the crown of her head.

  --

   “One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three,” Sana counted as she held Dahyun by her arms, guiding her steps to match the numbers. The younger girl wasn’t as good or coordinated, but she did her best, and Sana appreciated her for it. “That’s good! You’re doing well.”

“Am I? I feel like this is supposed to be easy, but I’m struggling.” The feeling of Sana’s hold on her was soothing despite her insecurities.

“It’s supposed to help with your blood circulation,” Sana explained, letting her go. “There’s no right or wrong way to do it. Now lie down with your legs turned to me.”

Dahyun obeyed, and Sana mirrored her position. The younger girl stretched her neck to see Sana’s feet touching hers.

“Now I’m going to push my feet against yours, and you have to push back, okay? When we find a balance, we’re gonna lift our legs up slowly, then bring them back down.” Sana instructed, and Dahyun gave her a thumbs-up.

They took their time finding a good position for their legs, but eventually managed; with Sana’s expert counting, they kept exercising. The activities were relaxing and simple, and felt more like a stretching routine than anything else. Sana was good at guiding people and teaching them what to do and how to move, and she’d called Dahyun to spend some time with her as she practiced this new routine.

She needed to take her mind off her two best friends fighting, and the whole drama they put themselves into. Sana didn’t know if she should mention anything to the rest of the group, but she decided that this problem was Mina’s to solve. Right now, she wanted to spend time with the person she adored.

“One last time…” Sana spoke from the other side. “And, done.”

She got up after that, wiping her shorts and shirt. When she turned around, Dahyun was still on the floor, breathing a bit heavily. Sana smiled, walking towards her. “You alive?”

“Why does this hurt?” Dahyun struggled, her legs heavy all of a sudden.

“Wow, you’re in a pretty bad shape, huh?” Sana laughed, offering her hands. “Grab on.”

Dahyun missed the first time, but eventually grabbed her hands. Sana pulled her up with a startling strength, and Dahyun stumbled on her way to the surface, falling on top of the girl. Fortunately, Sana hugged her in place, her strong legs rooted to the ground. “Wow!”

“Sorry!” Dahyun blushed, the full contact making her head spin. When she was about to step back, she felt Sana’s arms wrapping tightly against her.

“Stay a little bit,” Sana murmured in her ear. Dahyun slowly relaxed her shoulders, returning the soft hug. She let out a breath, then smiled, feeling warm all over.

“Are you okay?” Dahyun asked after a long silent moment.

Sana nodded. “Hmhmm.”

“That’s good,” her shampoo smelled amazing, and Dahyun could feel her heart beating against their pressed chests. “So, this is what you’re majoring in?”

“It is.”

“Dance therapy, huh…” She couldn’t help but to think how fitting it was for this girl to want to help people through her passion. “How exactly does it work?”

“Well… I want to assist people through dance, be it emotionally, or physically. I think it’s such a wonderful activity,” Sana finally unwrapped herself from Dahyun and moved to sit on the studio’s floor. She patted the spot next to her, and the younger girl plopped down immediately. “For example, if someone got into an accident, and damaged their muscles, physiotherapy might work for a while, but wouldn’t it be too boring eventually?”

“I guess so.”

“I want to show people how fun dancing can be, and how they can get better by doing silly stuff to the rhythm of a song,” Sana smiled softly as she spoke, looking up to the ceiling. “It helps the body and mind.”

Dahyun eyed her, then sighed with a grin. “That’s so you.”

“Hmm? What?”

“You’re struggling with issues yourself, and yet you want to dedicate your life to helping others. I don’t know… it’s just something you’d do.” She closed her eyes, bumping her head lightly on the wall behind her. “You make me proud, Sana-ya.”

Sana’s eyes lingered on Dahyun’s beautiful profile for a moment, speechless. Without a second thought, she turned her torso, and gently placed a kiss to her chubby cheek. Dahyun’s eyes shot open and she faced her, surprised, one hand touching the attacked spot. “What was that for?”

“Just reminding you how much I like you.” The answer was simple, and yet, it made Dahyun melt completely.

With a surge of bravery, Dahyun leaned forward too, awkwardly pressing her mouth against Sana’s upper lip. She pulled back and hid her hot face in hands. “I’m bad at this.”

Sana chuckled, but her chest exploded with affection. She leaned her head on the younger girl’s shoulder, nuzzling her neck. “We can be bad at this together.”

They chatted a lot, and cuddled even more, and when the afternoon turned into evening, both girls left the dance studio with arms locked. Sana still felt nervous about walking through the main hallway, but with Dahyun by her side making silly jokes and rubbing her knuckles, things were much more bearable.

In the distance, a group of five girls stopped their conversation to stare at the couple. They were rigid, and almost doll-like as they held their unblinking gaze. One of them, a blonde that looked like she could be pushing thirty, smirked as she locked eyes with her target. Dahyun frowned at her.

The blonde lifted one hand and made a crude gesture, flapping her tongue in between her two fingers. Then she mouthed ‘slut.’

Dahyun widened her eyes and turned back to Sana; fortunately, she hadn’t seen it. With a heavy feeling in her heart, Dahyun walked faster, urging Sana to do the same.

When she checked one last time to see if the group of girls were there, they had vanished.

It felt like a target had been placed on her back.

  --

  Mina waited by the fountain, observing the birds and students in their natural habitat. The afternoon grew burdensome, like the feelings in her chest; she hated fighting with Momo, of all people. That girl was her pillar, and it felt like things were falling apart lately. However, new, exciting things were happening; Mina didn’t want to bring herself down when one of her dreams had come true just last night.

Too absorbed in her own thoughts, Mina didn’t even realize when the person she’d been waiting for finally arrived. So, Jeongyeon tapped her shoulder lightly, making her finally lift her gaze.

“Hey, you.” she said with a smile.

Mina’s heart immediately jumped out of her chest, and it felt like a thousand butterflies went loose on her stomach. She mirrored her expression, biting her lip to stop her smile from growing too much – an impossible task, as it turns out. “Hey yourself.”

Jeongyeon sat next to her, arms behind her back. “I found something on the way that I think would suit you.”

“Oh?”

Jeongyeon lifted her arm then, revealing a tiny flower. “May I?”

Mina was sure that this girl didn’t exist. She couldn’t possibly be real.

She just nodded, shyly, and Jeongyeon placed the flower behind her ear with delicate fingers. She smiled then, admiring her work. “I was right. It suits you.”

Mina looked back up with red cheeks and touched the tiny blossom perched in her hair. “You’re so charming.”

Jeongyeon shrugged, sliding a bit closer. “You make it easy.”

They just stared at each other, their new feelings overwhelming their senses. Mina wanted to pull her close, kiss her deeply, hold her for the rest of her life – was that what being in love felt like? It was such a new, amazing feeling; the rawness of it all made her dizzy.

“I thought you’d be rushing to edit your movie,” Mina finally said, breaking the spell.

“I will. I just wanted to see you first,” Jeongyeon replied, scratching her neck. “Before, you know… spending the whole afternoon watching your face on a screen.”

Mina giggled at that. “You’ll get tired of my face.”

“There’s no way I could,” Jeongyeon’s words were filled with sincerity, and her eyes were positively shining – maybe it was the sun, but Mina liked to believe that they had a light of their own.

Suddenly Momo’s words rang on her mind, and Mina hesitated before asking. “Jeong… what are we now?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, what is… this?” She pointed at herself, then at girl in front of her. “I told you how I feel about you, we kissed, and then we… went beyond that.” Mina hid her face in embarrassment. “A lot beyond that.”

Jeongyeon’s laughter was nervous as well. “I mean, technically you only told me what you felt after we—”

“T-the point being,” Mina interrupted. “I was just wondering. If we’re… dating now, or…”

The words were heavy, perhaps with a weight that Jeongyeon didn’t know how to carry anymore after spending so much time in love with a girl whom she thought she would marry. It scared her to no end, because Mina deserved an answer and something concrete in her life, but Jeongyeon was incredibly afraid of ending up in the same situation as before.

Remembering the kiss from a week ago didn’t help calm the turbulent waters inside her heart. Jeongyeon was still lying about something important, and she didn’t want to start a relationship with such a secret weighting down on them. She needed time to tell Nayeon about Mina, and to tell Mina about Nayeon.

Jeongyeon took a deep breath and held Mina’s hands. “I’ll probably sound very selfish right now. I hope you can forgive me.” Mina nodded, urging her to continue. “But… can you give me time? At least until I’m done with this assignment. There are… some things I need to tell you, Mina. And I want to do this right.” She sighed. “You’re too important to me for me to mess this up.”

It wasn’t quite the answer Mina was expecting, but she reckoned it would be better for both of them. She also needed some time to confront Momo again and make her see her side of this story. Having Momo’s approval was everything to her at the moment.

Mina also knew what things Jeongyeon was referring to – the kiss at the party. She couldn’t give away that she knew about this, or else she was sure Jeongyeon would feel betrayed, and more complications would result from this.

So, Jeongyeon and Momo. Mina paused, feeling like she was forgetting something.

“Have you considered Nayeon’s feelings about this? At all?”

Nayeon.

Even after Momo’s outburst in her face, it was only at that moment that it finally hit her.

How would Nayeon feel about all this?

Mina felt terribly self-centered all of a sudden.

“Minari?” Jeongyeon’s voice brought her back to reality, and she shook her head.

“Alright,” She answered. “We don’t have to rush this. I understand.”

Relief washed over Jeongyeon’s face and she felt so happy that she simply leaned forward and kissed the corner of her mouth. “Thank you.”

The gesture sent Mina’s heart flying. With Jeongyeon still close, Mina tugged slightly, shyly chasing after her. Jeongyeon blinked for a second, confused, then realized what she wanted – she had no idea why she was so bad at reading Mina.

Their mouths touched again tentatively, and Mina sighed against those lips, heart soaring and cheeks red. Jeongyeon brought one hand to the back of her neck, parting Mina’s lips with a swipe of her tongue. They kissed slowly, much differently from what they’d done yesterday, enjoying the feeling of having each other close like this. Jeongyeon pulled back for a second, only to deepen the kiss a bit more. Mina let out a tiny groan from the back of her throat, making all the hairs on Jeongyeon’s neck stand up. There was something addictive about kissing Myoui Mina.

Unfortunately, they had to part after a few moments. ‘The way Mina looks after kissing should be immortalized on the silver screen’, was a thought that occurred Jeongyeon for a brief second.

“I need to go,” Jeongyeon chuckled sadly.

“R-right!” Mina felt a bit self-conscious – they were pretty exposed outside. “I’m sorry. Go on, you have an entire movie to edit.”

“Yeah,” Jeongyeon didn’t move for a second, then saw Mina’s little flower crooked on her hair. She adjusted it with a dumb grin, then cupped the girl’s cheek. “I kinda don’t want to leave.”

Mina was sure she was going to die from the amount of affection she felt. “You have to.” She shot her a gummy smile. “I promise I’m not going anywhere.”

Jeongyeon sighed, helplessly. “Okay, then.”

With one last peck to Mina’s lips, she got up, moving away with a wave. Mina laughed, covering her mouth, then licking her lips as she watched the girl’s figure get more and more distant. She felt so giddy that she fell backwards, legs up kicking slightly.

A sudden buzz on her phone made her sit back up. She grabbed it and opened the message in their group chat.

 [GodJihyo, 4:49pm]:

Attention, we’re all gathering this Saturday. Tzuyu’s family will be traveling, so get ready for a house party

IMPORTANT: No one else can come but us

Also you have no choice in the matter

See you there!

 Mina didn’t know what to type back, fingers frozen on the screen; it was impossible to defy Jihyo when she became this excited about an event. She sighed, afraid of what was going to happen if everyone gathered for the day.

A sudden wind blew, making Mina’s tiny flower fly away.

It felt like a warning.

[a-lbeit]

151 questions

sorry i’m trash and i like talking about myself

Who was the last person you held hands with? my aunt last night when she slipped me money lmfao

Are you outgoing or shy? shy but i’ve become much more outgoing than i used to be

Who are you looking forward to seeing? rozi and blake!!!!! i just wanna be back in california

Are you easy to get along with? i hope so; i like to think i’m pretty laid back

If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you? 100%

What kind of people are you attracted to? kind and genuine people

Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? i am always hoping for that

Who from the opposite gender is on your mind? ,,,,,,blake 

Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? with certain people, but not with my friends

Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? probably rozi or maybe my dad lmfao

What does the most recent text that you sent say? "i think it’s pretty self explanatory” in reference to me saying i think i have a hemorrhoid LMFAO

What are your 5 favorite songs right now? -- “the greatest,” lana del rey -- “hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me, but i have it,” lana del rey --“after the storm,” mumford and sons --“leader of the landslide,” the lumineers --“darkness on the edge of town,” springsteen i’m just sad girl trash rn

Do you like it when people play with your hair? nah

Do you believe in luck and miracles? yes bc i’ve been so goddamn lucky to have met the people i’ve met 

What good thing happened this summer? i got to work at the bookstore and the deli and visit lauren and ciaran in new york and do some real nice hikes in the smokies and took a goddamn train across the country and got to know some real nice people thanks to my job at disneyland 

Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? yeah probably but i don’t really care either way

Do you think there is life on other planets? of course

Do you still talk to your first crush? lol i never even talked to him when i had a crush on him

Do you like bubble baths? i’m not really a bath person

Do you like your neighbors? yeah they’re okay i guess, don’t really know them that well

What are you bad habits? sometimes i be gettin into a funk; i’m bad at distinguishing the line between friendly and flirty; i’m not confrontational; i’m bad at eating well; i get embarrassed too easily

Where would you like to visit? egypt, western canada, montana, russia, argentina, morocco, other places

Do you have trust issues? doesn’t everyone?

Favorite part of your daily routine? don’t have much of a routine at the moment bc i have a broke ass ankle but eating and reading and checking my notifications in the morning lmfao

What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? my stomach probably but i have issues with a lot of parts

What do you do when you wake up? lie in bed for like 2 hours on my phone

Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? i’m fine with whatever

Who are you most comfortable around? probably lauren or rozi 

Have any of your exes told you they regret breaking up? lol i don’t have an ex

Do you ever want to get married? maybe

Is your hair long enough for a ponytail? yeah

Which celebrities would you have a threesome with? i dunno but oscar isaac is hot as fuck

Spell your name with your chin. no

Do you play sports? What sports? not right now lmfao but i played tennis for a long time

Would you rather live without TV or music? tv 

Have you ever liked someone and never told them? obviously lmfao

What do you say during awkward silences? nothing i just try to think of something to ask them

Describe your dream girl/guy. kind, genuine, taller than me, feminist, love of the environment, ambitious 

What are your favorite stores to shop in? forever 21 tbh and i guess maybe asos or h&m. also walmart LMFAO

What do you want to do after high school? well right now i wanna get my graduate degree while working at disneyland and then i wanna join the peace corps and then i wanna work for the nps

Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? yeah probably

If you’re being extremely quiet, what does it mean? i don’t know what to say, i’m uncomfortable, or i’m jus chillin

Do you smile at strangers? nah not usually, maybe if we’re like in each other’s way or something

Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean? neither goddamn

What makes you get out of bed in the morning? bathroom lol and i start to feel gross after lying in bed for a while

What are you paranoid about? being financially stable and about being vulnerable to people

Have you ever been high? nah

Have you ever been drunk? yeah

Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?  not really 

What was the color of the last hoodie you wore? i haven’t worn a hoodie in a long ass time but probably grey 

Ever wished you were someone else? nah i just sometimes wish i looked different and had more money

One thing you wish you could change about yourself? stomach and broken ankle 

Favorite makeup brand? don’t have one bc i never wear makeup lol

Favorite store? what i listed earlier

Favorite blog? no thanks

Favorite color? don’t have one

Favorite food? burrito bowls from qdoba lmfao

Last thing you ate? chocolate

First thing you ate this morning? ham and cheese sammy and an apple

Ever won a competition? For what? probably at some point

Been suspended/expelled? For what? nah

Been arrested? For what? nah

Ever been in love? no

Tell us the story of your first kiss. my old coworker who lives in la now wanted to hook up so when i first flew into anaheim a couple months ago, he drove over to my airbnb and we were watching the office and the episode finished and i was like should we start another one and he was like yeah or i could kiss you. so we did. it was strange but nice i think. then we made out and had sex lmfao i really went 0 to 100 in one evening

Are you hungry right now? nah

Do you like your Tumblr friends more than your real friends? i don’t know people on tumblr unless i know them in real life

Facebook or Twitter? facebook

Twitter or Tumblr? tumblr

Are you watching tv right now? nah

Names of your best friends? i have several, among which are probably lauren, rozi, melissa, brandon, ben, katie, nicole, estevan, and potentially blake

Craving something? What? california

What color are your towels? orange ish i think

How many pillows do you sleep with? one but my ankle is also on one

Do you sleep with stuffed animals? lmfao right now yes

How many stuffed animals do you think you have? i have so many from my childhood, but probably like 15 in my room

Favorite animal? koala

What color is your underwear? skin colored lmfao

Chocolate or vanilla? swirl

Favorite ice cream flavor? probably neapolitan or like ben and jerry’s half baked

What color shirt are you wearing? blue american university library t shirt

What color pants? black shorts

Favorite tv show? probably new amsterdam and superstore and brooklyn nine nine

Favorite movie? inside llewyn davis and the descendants probably

Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2? honestly i don’t like mean girls

Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street? 21 jump street

Favorite character from Mean Girls? no

Favorite character from Finding Nemo? i don’t care

First person you talked to today? my mom 

Last person you talked to today? rozi by text, father in person 

Name a person you hate. me bitch

Name a person you love. lauren!

Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? nah

In a fight with someone? nah

How many pairs of sweatpants do you have? none

How many sweaters/hoodies do you have? probably like 4 sweaters and 2 hoodies

Last movie you watched? echo in the canyon

Favorite actress? probably frances mcdormand

Favorite actor? oscar isaac

Do you tan a lot? yeah

Have any pets? a cat

How are you feeling? forlorn about california literally all the time

Do you type fast? kind of 

Do you regret anything from your past? not doing enough in the month i was in california before i broke my ankle!!!! i’ll be back tho

Can you spell well? yeah

Do you miss anyone from your past? of course!

Ever been to a bonfire party? probably

Ever broken someone’s heart? nah

Have you ever been on a horse? yeah

What should you be doing? nothin, i’m chillin, tryna heal as soon as i can

Is something irritating you right now? my inability to walk

Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt? mmm i don’t think so

Do you have trust issues? i still have trust issues since the last time this was asked, yes

Who was the last person you cried in front of? lol i teared up in front of rozi, lyndsay, and britt, but i CRIED in front of blake lmfao. oh wait i was cryin on the plane but i don’t think anyone was really looking at me

What was your childhood nickname? idk i don’t think i had one

Have you ever been out of your province/state? hell yeah

Do you play the Wii? i used to but i haven’t for years

Are you listening to music right now? yeah i’m listening to my new year’s eve playlist from 2 years ago lmfao

Do you like chicken noodle soup? ya

Do you like Chinese food? i’m very specific about it

Favorite book? probably wild 

Are you afraid of the dark? yeah

Are you mean? not usually

Is cheating ever okay? no

Can you keep white shoes clean? for a minute

Do you believe in love at first sight? no

Do you believe in true love? i think so

Are you currently bored? no

What makes you happy? my friends and being financially stable 

Would you change your name? probably not

What your zodiac sign? leo

Do you like subway? yum i stan a good steak and pepper jack on italian herbs and cheese

Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? feel flattered

Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? redundant

Favorite lyrics right now? "i miss long beach and i miss you” and “it will steal your innocence but it will not steal your substance”

Can you count to one million? no

Dumbest lie you ever told? i don’t know, i’ve told a lot

Do you sleep with your doors open or closed? closed

How tall are you? i always say 5′3″

Curly or straight hair? wavy

Brunette or blonde? brunette

Summer or winter? winter

Night or day? depends on my mood

Favorite month? december and also maybe september

Are you a vegetarian? lol no

Dark, milk, or white chocolate? milk

Tea or coffee? coffee

Was today a good day? it was okay. i talked to rozi for like an hour and a half on the phone so that was nice

Mars or Snickers? snickers

What’s your favorite quote? i have a lot but i’ve always loved “what is that feeling when you're driving away from people and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? -- it's the too-huge world vaulting us, and it's good-by. but we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies.”

Do you believe in ghosts? probably

Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42--what’s the first line on that page? the first complete sentence is “he was not sickly or weak but he did not lift very well; he rode horses badly and detested them” from east of eden