#sorry it took 2000 years

[dudewhy3]

I noticed nobody did ask you about your fav fics (AA) and authors! So spill it out!!!

And also 🍎🥝🍇

Hi anonnie! So this ask has been sitting in my inbox for months, which I apologize for, but also- I haven't consistently read fanfic since Tater Tots was first being published so i really had to dig for these. Also, I'm by no means caught up to every fanfic on the archive so if your fave isn't here, i probably haven't read it. With no further ado, here goes:

Tater Tots and Heavy Thoughts by anonymous

Annie Pines, Armin Yearns and More Than Just Glass by @mea-s

Why Is It Always Me? by SerphenySlayer

Without Words by thewomaninthefog

Home by thesketchytepe

Somebody Waits For You by @lady-shudragon

A Cloud Before Your Sun by astralcrow

Riddle Me This by HuaFeiHua

last christmas, i gave you my heart by silvereiaa

we were built to fall apart, baby by orphan account

Someone Who's Good For You by @norikosbinoculars

Good Boy, Bad Girl by mipisleepy

Freezing and Melting by orphan account

The Aruani in fort Salta series by @moonspirit

Black Water and Straight Up Awful Parents by @distortedclouds

A Pocket Full of Stones and Tinsel and Gold by @honeytheriot

My Yellow Light in Your Soft Whispers by @annawayne

Strangers in the Sky by @fnt-incntatem

Legends, all the things that could have been and When Champagne Is Served by @mimiwrites2000

What a Poor World, to Have Lost You, Traditions Made Right and haunted house; picket fence by @lunamoon1233

pom-poms on the toes by @nightofthend

And I know you said aruani and this is mainly eremika, but it has some awesome side-aruani and it's been stuck on my mind for years: My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore by @theotherackerman

also i dug up the ask game and you said

🍎I like your blog and your personality!  🥝I have a small crush on you… 🍇I wish we were better friends!

and i think the third one is quite fixable ahahhaha

[ask-the-koopa-kingdom]

It is so absurdly wholesome to me that all the other Broodals were having some rivalry with the Koopalings while Rango just wanted to feel how soft Iggy's hair is. Without consent probably, sure, but still.

"When's the last time you've been put out of somewhere?" - Ludwig

[blimbo-buddy]

you know what? what if scourge took pity on storm and feather and offered them to join bloodclan so that he could help them out?

(insane)

THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING! It genuinely makes no sense that Scourge would show hate towards half-clan cats, especially children. Who wants to make a beautiful au where Scourge takes in Storm and Feather and announces that they're under the protection of Bloodclan now

[cherry-bomb-ships]

Was talking with my gf last night about PPG ship stuff and realized I've made my self insert a programmer and coder... in a series that takes place within the turn of the century... bro Y2K gonna fucking kill her 😭😭😭

[icewindandboringhorror]

recent things

[despairforme]

Hands him a bunch of snacks from his shop for taste testing! :) 🎶

SNACKS?? Say no more! Even though this dude looked shady as fuck ( and that was saying something, coming from Nnoitra ), he happily accepted ALL the snacks that were handed to him. Good thing he had big hands, so he could balance them all! So these all came from the guy's shop, huh? Nnoitra really... Had limited knowledge and idea about how a shop functioned in the first place. They didn't have anything like that in Hueco Mundo. Having to PAY for something? That concept was wild to him. In any case, he'd be happy to do some taste testing! It was remarkable how cooperative he could be when you fed him.

❝ Taste testin', huh? What'cha need me 'ta do? ❞ Should he review the items, or??

[scnkei]

❛   it reminded me that i will never truly know you,  ❜  and why should she? that isn't in the third-seat's job description, after all. as if she only remembers her rank moments later, she begrudgingly finishes her scentence as she does all others addressed to him with a lowered head and hands clasped in front of her, ❛   ...sir  ❜

— from Bianca (apologies it took me like centuries to get around to sending anything)

Those words could be spoken by most. It was not for others to KNOW him. Not on a personal level, certainly. He treated everyone with the same impersonal coldness, making sure they knew they were below him, as was suitable for his status. As a child, and - perhaps - as a young teenager, it had been a lonely path to walk. As an adult, Byakuya would never let something as trivial as loneliness prevent him from being the perfect image of nobility.

His third seat Lancome Bianca, had ways to go when perfecting her OWN image. The fact that she hesitated when she addressed him - not adding a honorific at the end of the sentence was completely unacceptable. Byakuya demanded absolute etiquette among his division members, and certainly if they held seated positions.

❝ It is not your place to know me, Lancome. ❞ Byakuya said, in his usual cold monotone. ❝ And this hesitation of proper etiquette will not be tolerated. ❞

[wingsofhcpe]

I mean. You can make your point without being ableist as shit?? Zionists don't believe this bs because they're mentally ill, they believe it because they've been brainwashed by hate and supremacy.

Other than that I totally agree, pretty sure one of my grandparents hails from Asia Minor and their grandparents were chased out by the Ottomans who slaughtered the indigenous Greeks there and expelled the survivors, but you don't see me saying I should go to Smyrna and massacre the random Turkish people currently living there.

I don’t understand the “I have ancestral ties to Israel” bullshit. I’m Indian and a practicing Hindu. I have ancient and ancestral ties to India, but I don’t believe I have the right to go to India, chase people of other races and religions out of their homes and occupy them. Am I missing something? Is it because I’m not mentally ill?

[awrkive]

THE LOVE PROGNOSIS, fin. — JJK (m.)

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

the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.

PAIRING jungkook x female reader // mingyu x female reader

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

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 43.2k idcccccc atp😭 take ur time!

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC medical!au, roommates!au, surgeon!jk, surgeon!reader (they are both 4th year residents and are co-workers), corporate lawyer!mingyu, oc and jk are bffs since med school but their love language is fighting each other <3, jk and mingyu are bffs during undergrad, hopeless romantic!oc. dont read further warnings if u dont wanna be spoiled: ANGST. im aware i kinda overkilled it here but uh.. hear me out! explicit sexual content [ male mast*rbation, oral s*x (f&m receiving), making out, dry h*mping, penetr*tive s*x (protected and unprotected, missionary, cowgirl, doggy, spooning), a bit of c*mplay, jk <3 boobs, ily kink (redacted) cries during sex lol ]. FLUFFy fluff fluffff 😖 some of the scenes give very much like 2000s romcom vibes but idc sue me also theres a #merder reference ifykyk

NOTES we have finally reached the end! sorry it took me a month to get this out sjdfhd but its here and its long as fuck n im so proud of this and happy that i finished a series!! for once!!! will always love my silly tlp couple and the characters 🥹 let me know ur thoughts on my inbox oki and circulate by liking and reblogging if u enjoyed reading hihi ty ok bye enjoy reading!🫵🏼🫵🏼 [ important: pls make sure to read the note below ]

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] // [ MAIN MASTERLIST ]

A day passed since the fiasco at the villa happened and Jungkook and you have acted like total strangers since then. The rest of your friends easily took notice of it; the silence between you two on the ride to the airport, the not-so discreet way you avoided each other at the waiting area, even going as far as exchanging seats inside the plane when on any other day, you two didn’t mind being close together physically. 

Jungkook knows absolutely that the avoidance is doing you both a disservice. You’re both grown adults and going to extreme lengths to ignore each other – like not even looking at the other when you bump in the hospital hallways – is a one-way ticket to your relationship’s foundations crumbling. 

That thought terrified Jungkook so much that he decided to come clean tonight. Talk to you properly when his mind is cleared and there was no Mingyu to aggravate his thoughts and project actions he’s not necessarily proud of – because the fight was juvenile, he knows that. Him committing and giving in to violence is not something he wants you to see, no matter the context. You were right when you said that was not him, and Jungkook can’t have you thinking otherwise.

When he steps in front of your apartment door, he thinks if you’re already there. He isn’t entirely sure. You two haven’t seen each other at the hospital and you haven’t been texting him either.  You might still be doing your rounds, he thought, but when he opens the door to your unit and trudges his feet to the living room, he catches a sight of you going out from your bedroom.

The two of you freeze upon seeing each other, but Jungkook’s surprise soon turns into confusion when he notices the carry-on luggage in your hand.

“Oh, you’re here,” You utter, filling the silence in the air. “I was just going.” 

“Where?” Jungkook instantly asks, taking you both by surprise. 

But you quickly recover. You give him a small smile – but what Jungkook clearly sees is a wince.  

“I’m going over to my sister’s,” You must’ve seen the way Jungkook’s boring holes at your pink luggage, and so you take a glance at it momentarily, tugging on the handle to scoot it over closer to your side. You clear your throat. “I’m staying there for a while.” 

Jungkook feels a certain weight drop on his shoulders, his lips parting at your declaration. 

“__, i-if this is about what I said, you don’t have to leave—”

You cut him off quickly. “No. It’s not that. I just… I just need some time away.”

Even though he doesn’t like the implication, he gets you.

Blinking, he thinks what to say next. Jungkook doesn’t want to say the wrong words – he’s well aware of the fact that he's put his foot in his mouth back at the resort, and he’s not fucking up the second time around. 

While he intended to talk to you tonight to address the elephant between you two, he also understands completely why you need time for yourself. It was too much. He told you a lot of things and he can’t expect you to process all of them in a single day.  

So, he nods, still stricken, heart heavy when he looks at you again. “Okay.” 

“Okay.” You repeat, voice a little louder than him. A pregnant pause, and you’re pulling up the handle of your luggage again, the wheels gliding on the floorboards as you begin to head towards the door to your apartment.

Jungkook doesn’t mean to sound so alarmed when he suddenly blurts out, “Now?” 

He doesn’t even know why. It was the obvious. You’ve packed your things – you’re heading out. But he couldn’t stop himself. It’s like there’s a sense of fear clouding his mind the more this moment of you leaving stretches out further.

You stop on your tracks, blinking at him. “Y-yeah?” 

“Oh.” Jungkook feels his hand itching to do something. Something stupid like grab your wrist gently to make you stay. 

But he knows that’s futile. He doesn’t have the right to make you stay if you don’t want to in the first place. 

“Seokjin’s actually coming in a few minutes,” you tell him, glancing at your phone. “My sister’s still at work, so she made him pick me up.” 

Jungkook can only give you a nod.

It makes sense for your brother-in-law to come pick you up. It also makes sense for you to stay over their place considering that their apartment isn’t that far from the hospital and you won’t have a hard time commuting to work if you planned to stay there for a little while. 

He wonders, though, why you aren’t staying at Doyeon’s instead… he doesn’t know if you’ve talked already, but from what it seems, you aren’t talking to the rest of your friends, either; judging by the way he hasn’t seen you together with any of them at the hospital. Taehyung had suggested that maybe you just need time, to which Doyeon and Nayeon agreed to. Jungkook can’t help but feel bad, though. You’re seemingly coming out isolated at the end of his own doing. If you’re avoiding your friends just because of him, that would be extremely unfair to you. Taehyung, Doyeon and Nayeon are just as much as your friends as they are his, and during these times, you should feel comfortable taking solace in their friendship like how he’s leaning on them currently.

Guilt washes over him at the thought. He can’t bear thinking about you hurting in the process of all of this. He just wants so badly to make it up to you, for you both to be okay again. You didn’t even have to acknowledge what he said – about him being in love with you. You could totally ignore it and act like it never happened, go on about your days like nothing changed as long as you’re by his side.

It hurts. It hurts that even when you’re just physically within his reach right now, he can’t seem to get a hold of you. And he has no one to blame but himself. 

A phone rings and Jungkook watches as you fish out your device from your pockets. 

“Must be Jin.” you say, picking up the call. You exchange a few words with your brother-in-law for a few seconds before hanging up and looking at him again. “He’s outside already.” 

Jungkook nods, biting back the words that consist of something stupid like “don’t leave”. 

“Your car…?” He hesitates, remembering how you’d drive to work. 

“It broke again yesterday. I’m actually… uh… thinking of just selling it. Get it over with.”

Your car. You mentioned your parents have turned it over to you during your junior year in college. It always broke in the most inconvenient times – like the one time you had a bad date, and you panicked-texted him about the car towing company not picking up. It was a Sunday and Jungkook was supposed to go over some paper works, but he scrambled out of his room to get you – and he didn’t regret it one bit because you were actually crying the moment he arrived. You had been overstimulated, what with another failed date and your broken car – it was all too much. And you just needed Jungkook to be there. You told him so. 

Jungkook cherishes those moments a lot. Not because you cried in them – he always felt like it was a punch to the gut whenever he sees you even an ounce of upset – but because it tells him that you trust him with that vulnerable side of you. It means he’s important enough to you to let him in your life. It’s one of those moments where Jungkook truly steps back to reevaluate your relationship – because sure, it could be merely friendship to anybody, but Jungkook doesn’t really think so. Your bond runs deeper than friendship, and he doesn’t even mean romantic. It’s the… camaraderie. The partnership.

He could’ve confessed a long time ago – that’s what people kept saying, but what they don’t know is that he has so much to lose. You are more than just the woman he would love to kiss and make love to or call his girlfriend – you’re the love of his life, you’re everything to him. And if he can’t have you in any way, he’d truly break. 

And now that everything’s said and done – with him finally baring his truth to you – it’s come to this.

You, leaving.

The silence that follows pricks Jungkook’s skin like needles, and the creak of your steps on the floorboards ring in his ears – a daunting harsh whisper of your farewell – although it’s just temporary. 

But something worries him. 

What if it’s not temporary? What if during your stay at your sister’s place, you decide to completely get rid of his company for the good and better? 

It’s all those frantic thoughts that urges him to call your name, but he doesn’t expect your voice overlapping with his as you say his name at the same time. 

Jungkook’s lips curl up slightly. “What is it?” 

Predictably, you wave your hand at him. “No, you first.”

“It’s okay.” 

Your hand hovers over the handle of your suitcase as you pass by him, stopping on the threshold of your apartment. “I just…” you trail off. You look at Jungkook for a moment. “I just wanted to say bye. And uh… that… I drank all your banana milk in the fridge. But I’ll wire you the money later. Or buy you another batch and I’ll give it to you at the hospital or—”

Jungkook cuts you off by calling out your name, broken by a laugh of amusement. His first smile today, maybe. You look at him wide-eyed. It’s fascinating the way you have him completely wrapped around your finger and you’re not even doing anything.

“It’s fine. You don’t need to wire me anything.” 

“Oh... well, I’m still sorry.” He nods, giving you a small smile. “What was it you wanted to tell me, then?” 

Right now, he forgets what it was even all about. “Just, uh, please tell your sister and Seokjin hyung I said hi.”  

Jungkook doesn’t want to delude himself into thinking that your face flashed a look of disappointment for the briefest moment after he said the words. At the back of his mind, he thinks you were expecting more – but he knows he’s reaching, grasping for straws, and he’s just desperate for anything from you he can’t really rationalize his line of thinking. 

So with a final wave of your hand – a bit timid – you turn around and open the door to your unit, and Jungkook watches as your form disappears completely, leaving him stoned in his position in the middle of the living room for a long time; head empty, body numb, until he gathers time to collect himself and finally move over to the bathroom, where he takes a cold shower in hopes for an improved mood.

It didn’t really do anything, and he found himself having a hard time sleeping – waking up randomly during the wee hours of the morning.

When he stirs awake from his blaring alarm at 5:30, he’s nothing but adrift.

It feels weird when he goes to the kitchen and he doesn’t see you, as he expects you to be there in whatever worn up shirt from high school you still have, making toast or some quick breakfast – with your playlist playing from your phone – but you weren’t. 

And Jungkook remembers that would be the case for another few days to come. Something he has to be okay with.

For the meantime.

He hopes.   

Jungkook doesn’t get drunk often, but now, his friends are assuming he is. For the record, though, he is not drunk and they are just exaggerating. Sure, he’s staggering and he’s mixing up his syllables and grammar – but he swears he just feels a little woozy.

“Jungkook,” Doyeon calls him, laughing a bit. “Come on, Taehyung’s driving you home.” 

“Don’t want to,” He says as he takes another swig of his fifth canned beer he’s been consuming since they all arrived at the barbecue place. “I can handle my alcohol.”

Which — fair. That’s not new news. But still—

“No shit, you have a shift tomorrow at eleven in the morning. Don’t be stubborn. It’s time to go home.” 

“It’s fine, I’ll Uber back.” 

Jungkook watches as Doyeon rolls her eyes. 

“Are you really moping right now?” 

He sends her a glare – one that she predictably does not take seriously. “‘M not moping. You’re moping.” 

“And I’m Kate Bush. Taehyung, can you just drag Jungkook out of here? I think he’s gonna cry any minute now and the auntie is closing. We gotta go.” Nayeon butts in, and even though her words may seem harsh around the edges, she looks at Jungkook with a concerned gaze. The playful atmosphere from earlier now dissipating.

Jungkook appreciates the warmth that he gets from Nayeon’s gentle approach to everything – but right now, all it does is make him feel pitiful. Doyeon’s right. He is moping. Moping for something that should’ve been within his control in the first place.

“Man, you know you bench way more than me. I can’t carry you out all by myself if you’re all drunk and shit.” Taehyung nudges him on the shoulder, enough to make Jungkook move from his seat. He only grumbles.

Doyeon sighs. “What do you want, Jungkook? Call __? Tell her you’re getting wasted and come pick you up?” 

Jungkook visibly flinches at the mention of you.

Ever since they arrived at the restaurant, Jungkook has noticed that his friends have been deliberately omitting your name in the conversation – until now, anyway. He thinks they all planned this spontaneous hang to “cheer him up” or whatever the fuck Taehyung said on their way here – which seemed like a slip-up, because Doyeon had hit the back of his head lightly right after saying it. 

They’re walking on eggshells around him like he’s some kind of house of cards – one nudge and a blow and he comes crumbling down.

Jungkook hates getting doted on like this. It’s not like you two broke up. They just knew that you went to stay at your sister’s place for a while and you never said when you’re coming back. He hasn’t had any encounters with you at the hospital nowadays – you’re getting good at hiding from him and the rest of the gang, and every single day bleeds into countless sleepless nights. You’ve been gone for five days; no calls, or at least a text. And it seems like you deactivated your IG. You aren’t tweeting or reblogging shit on Twitter as well. You’ve gone completely silent – and with every waking moment that Jungkook spends a day without your presence, it feels like you’re slowly slipping through his fingers.

“No.” he glares at the three of them. Standing up, he feels his vision dancing at the sudden action.

Well. Maybe he is sort of drunk. A little. 

“Hey, man, let’s go.” Taehyung ushers once again. This time, Jungkook acquiesces but with a groan. Nonetheless, he lets Taehyung wrap his arm around him to prevent him from tripping on his own feet.

When Jungkook manages to stand firm on the ground, he shuts his eyes tight to get a hold of himself and once again look at Doyeon and Nayeon who are still sitting by the table. With a confused expression, he asks, “Thought we’re all going?” 

“Minhyuk will pick me up.” Nayeon says. Jungkook nods, directing his gaze to Doyeon.

“Somebody’s picking me up, too,” When Jungkook squints his eyes at her, she rolls her eyes. “Don’t start. Tae, drive safely, okay? You didn’t drink, right?” 

Taehyung shakes his head and gives both women a reassuring nod before they head out of the building when goodbyes were bid, with Taehyung still pressing a hand on Jungkook’s back because he’s still a bit unstable on his feet. It’s not bad, though, Jungkook doesn’t think so. He just feels dizzy and shit, but it’s not anything water can’t solve.

Fuck, now he wants to get in bed as soon as possible. After a cold shower. 

“Sorry, man.” he says as he plops down on the passenger’s seat, buckling the seatbelt around himself. 

Taehyung comfortably settles on the driver’s seat, adjusting the rearview mirror a bit before starting the engine. But not after he responded to Jungkook with a snort, “It’s fine.” 

It’s a quiet car ride and Jungkook can already feel his eyelids threatening to fall, the haze of sleep already clouding his mind. He can’t recall how far it takes from the restaurant to his complex, but soon enough, Taehyung’s voice wakes him up from his stupor. 

“You okay there?” 

Jungkook hums, leaning back to relax his nerves. A minute flies and he sighs loudly, making Taehyung look at him momentarily.

“Don’t sleep on me. Again, I am not willing to carry you all the way to your apartment, fucker.”

That makes Jungkook laugh, a snicker escaping past his lips. It makes Taehyung do the same, scoffing at his friend as he did so. The car ride continues into a stretched-out comfortable silence before Taehyung breaks it with a question of, “You two still haven’t talked?” 

Jungkook stiffens at the mention, and he knows his friend notices the way he did, but he quickly tries to shake it off. “Yeah. She’s still at her sister’s.” Taehyung nods. When Jungkook looks at him, he decides to ask, “What ‘bout you? She reached out yet?” 

“No.”

Jungkook inhales a sharp breath. 

This is bad. You’re ignoring all your friends because of him. 

“Sorry.” Jungkook says after a pregnant pause.

“What for?”

“Dunno. Feels like it’s all my fault,” a sigh escapes past his lips again. “You guys don’t deserve to get caught up in this.”

“Jungkook,” There’s a lilt to Taehyung’s voice that reminds Jungkook again that the man beside him is older than he is and sometimes, Taehyung can be way more mature, almost like an older brother. He forgets their age difference most of the time. “Don’t say that.  __ just needs her time. She’ll come around.”

The smile Jungkook gives his way is bitter but it’s a smile, nonetheless.

“I don’t know, Tae,” He leans his head back on the seat, staring at nothing in particular. “It’s different this time.”

“You’ve fought before,” Taehyung points out. “How is this different?” 

Jungkook does know what he’s trying to point out. He may be referring to the time in third year of med school when you didn’t talk to him for a month – but still. This, right now – whatever is happening – is far from what happened back then.

“Just different,” He shrugs, a poor attempt at nonchalance so Taehyung doesn’t think he’s being pathetic. “I feel like this is it.” Taehyung looks at him curiously when the red light turns on. It makes Jungkook squirm, but he voices out what he feels, anyway. “I’m losing her.”

That felt weird the moment it slips his tongue. For the past few days, it’s been in his head – making up the mess of his thoughts. When he said that, for once, it felt like finality. Like its verbalization actually made it real. 

He does feel like he’s losing you. And it feels like the absolute truth.

“You can’t say that when you haven’t even talked to her, Jungkook,” Taehyung says and he says it so firmly. When Jungkook studies the older guy’s face, it’s etched with sincerity, especially when he adds, “Do you really think she’ll let go of an almost decade-long relationship just because of what happened? Frankly speaking, even if she does not feel the same way about you at all, I know her enough to know that she’ll have at least the decency to let you down properly. I think she’s just trying to think all of this through. She’ll talk when her head’s clear.” 

Jungkook finds himself processing his words. You are exactly like that. You’re the type of person to need your personal space when you’re confronted by huge predicaments. When he thinks about it – you have so much on your plate. Mingyu, him, your relationship with each of them; Jungkook realizes things must be so hard for you right now, both emotionally and physically. And you’re dealing with all this while still showing up for your rotations.

“You’re right.” Jungkook whispers. 

“Just… time, okay? You both need time.” Taehyung says and for once, Jungkook smiles a genuine one. 

The light turns green, and Taehyung continues to drive. 

Taehyung decided to turn up his jazz playlist and it eased Jungkook’s mind a bit. But it did lull him to sleep all the way to his apartment complex. Thankfully though, it only took Taehyung a few seconds of nudging him before he stirred awake, disoriented when he opened his eyes only to hear his friend say they were already there, ushering him out of his car. 

He said his thanks to Taehyung, and his friend made sure to tell him to take it easy before he took off. When he was gone, Jungkook went straight to the elevator to press his floor, mind and body working on autopilot as he sauntered over the hallway to stop in front of his unit.

When the door opens, he feels a sense of calmness at the sight of his own place with everything at his disposal including the bathroom that he quickly head towards, not hesitating to strip himself naked on the way to the shower, letting his clothes form a heap on the threshold; bare and naked without a care in the world.

Stepping into the shower box, he turns the showerhead on, hissing at the cold water spraying onto his skin. He needed the cold to get rid of his sluggishness – and it works just as instantly as he’d hoped. 

Both of his hands shoot up to brush his hair off his forehead, and he stays in that position for awhile; with the water running on his body and his head leaned back a bit, eyes closed as he relaxes. 

He mindlessly reaches for his shampoo bottle, but when he opens the cap, he smells a completely different product. What welcomes him when he opens his eyes back again is the familiar sight of Bath and Body works bottle. Your water lily springs body wash.

Despite his current headspace, it brings a smile to Jungkook’s lips.

Right.

He’s noticed in the past few days that you left it in your shared bathroom. Considering all the things that you still have around the apartment, it didn’t really look like you packed a lot of things when you left – which should ease Jungkook’s mind. Still, though; the small size of your luggage and the quantity of what you brought with you do not matter when you still aren’t home. 

And with that, Jungkook feels himself slipping back into… mulling again. And he can’t help but heave out a sigh. 

He just… wants to rest for tonight. Just wants his head emptied out. Relax. He feels like he’s been on edge for the longest of time and he just needs some sort of – he’s not sure – comfort? Maybe something along the lines? 

And as if his hand has a mind on its own, he grips the bottle of your body wash and squirts an ample amount on his palm, the scent of water lily springs surrounding the confined space of the shower immediately. 

He lathers it all over his chest, inhaling the gentle waft and how it weirdly calms him from the inside. The room smells just like you. He smells just like you. And it isn’t the first time he’s doing this – he’s always liked the way you smelled, and he may have used your body wash by accident countless of times. Jungkook sometimes does it just to tease you – because you always point it out when you notice that he smells the same, and then you get all irritated and it makes Jungkook keen because you’re just so goddamn cute when you glare at him and when you get mean. Teasing you also means that you’d get mad enough to sulk at him, and that gives him the opportunity to make it up to you; and making it up to you means he gets all of your attention. 

It’s pathetic but Jungkook’s not ashamed to admit that – just to himself, though. He likes when you give him attention, can you blame him?

His mind goes back to the memory of you cuddling with him on the ground at that random playground near your complex, how you snuggled up to his arm, giggling and threatening him to stop using your body wash. He remembers all the times you would cook together on nights when you’re both free – lounging on the couch mindlessly, either watching a show and debating over useless, stupid stuff – or when you would force him to rub your foot or massage your neck. Jungkook doesn’t relent until after you complain for a good five minutes. He’s gotten better at pretending overtime that he doesn’t look forward to touching any part of you.

At that thought, he recalls the way your back felt on his hands when he rubbed sunscreen all over it when you were at the resort. How the plane of your gorgeous skin felt so smooth to the touch, how you make him feel even with just the slightest baring of your skin. 

Jungkook shuts his close when his mind goes into overdrive.

You. You. You and your bikini. You and your short shorts that might as well just be panties in disguise. You and those cute little, tight camisoles you always wear around the apartment. How he could just sometimes see the outline of your nipples where the thin material of your shirt clings to. How your bare legs look so good when you cross them while reading the paper on a Sunday morning by the kitchen island. How your breasts look like they could fit in Jungkook’s big palms with a bit of overspill – enough to drive him insane. 

These are the thoughts in Jungkook’s head as he continues to lather the liquidy texture of your body wash all over his body – and when his hand finally nudges the dick in between his legs, he groans. 

He’s not a stranger to getting off to the thought of you – you’re a gorgeous woman and it doesn’t really help the fact that he’s been in love with you for god knows how long – but it doesn’t mean that he does it guilt-free. He almost always feels like shit afterwards. 

But he can’t help it. Not when you’re all over his head again. Not when he’s thinking about how good it would probably fucking feel if he could just have a taste of your plump lips. How it would feel if he could just suck on your neck, paint you with his love there, down to your cleavage then play with both of your tits with his hands – be greedy with it – get your nipples rock hard and pretty tight for him, suck and latch and nip and lick them, make sure it’s all wet before he goes down more south. 

God. He thinks about it all the time. How’d it feel to go down on you. You’re so fucking pretty he could just imagine how gorgeous you would look down there, too. Were you the type to like getting eaten out? Jungkook hopes so. Because he would do everything to satisfy you. Fuck, he’d be so good to you. He’d tease your clit with his thumb first and you’d tell him that you’re aching for him bad – and he’d cave in and get his first taste with the flat of his tongue and fuck. You probably taste so good he’d crave it for days to come. 

The next thing Jungkook knows, he’s holding the base of his cock firmly, feeling it getting harder every second. It grows in his hand as he continues to think about eating your pussy, imagining the sounds you’d let out, how you’d look extra beautiful getting fucked by his tongue. Shit. He’d do it so well if you just asked. 

Jungkook traps his bottom lip with his teeth as he starts teasing his own cock, already in its full mass, hard and standing tall against his abdomen. He can see the shiny texture of his tip, precum leaking out, begging to be touched. He doesn’t wait any second to thumb the liquid off his head, letting out a half-sigh, half-hiss at how sensitive it felt, especially when he runs it over the veiny base.

Inhaling a sharp breath, Jungkook steps back a bit to cup his balls, squeezing it just enough to make him close his eyes. He repeats the motion of sliding his hand up and down his erect cock, feeling himself getting wetter at every second that passes. 

He gets a picture of you on your knees, and as he pumps himself at a slow pace, he imagines it’s you instead kneading him. You have slender fingers and pretty nails, it would feel so much better if they were wrapped around his cock right now. Your nails would scrape against his length, and you’ve held hands enough times for Jungkook to know that his hand is significantly bigger than yours, so you probably won’t fit all of him in your hand – but that’s alright. You’d tease him on the tip instead, spread his precum all over, get him needing and wanting more. 

Jungkook’s hips start to buck as he speeds up his pace, this time jacking himself harder as his mind jumps to more thoughts of you  — but this time around, you’re not on your knees: you’re pressed on the glass wall of the shower box, your ass bent for all of him to caress and squeeze, and you’re craning your head to look at him with hooded eyes, lips parted into a gorgeous “o” as you beckon him to come closer and put his hard dick in your warm, tight, and aching pussy. 

“Fuck.” Jungkook curses as he lets his forehead fall to the wall, resting there for a few good seconds, other hand scrambling to turn off the shower and quickly shutting his eyes close as he pictures himself thrusting into you instead of his stupid fucking hand.

“Shit, shit, shit—” He hisses, hand going faster around his length, pumping himself desperately to the thought of his dick sliding in and out of you.

Your moans would fill the tight room, and you’d sound so pretty. You’d be so pliant against the strong arm that he would wrap you with — and Jungkook would make sure to flick your nipples and fondle your breasts as he pounds into you from behind.

“Fuuuuck…” 

He grunts and he moans, hand impossibly going faster — dick getting harder. He just wants a release. He wants to cum so bad — to kiss you and love you and have you say it back with the same earnestness as him. 

Jungkook wants so badly to have you in his arms right after he eats you out, to cuddle with you and pretend like you have all the time in the world after he’s made sure to make love to every single inch of your body. To caress your hair and press a kiss on your head anytime he likes – because he’s allowed to. Because you love him. He just wants to be able to touch you in any way possible. Run his fingers over your back, kiss your cheeks, and your scrunched nose. Just wants to bury his face in your chest after a long day at work. Hold you tight against him. Have you close to him, whenever and wherever. 

But he doesn’t have all that. He can’t have all that. Not when you don’t even feel the same. Not when you reacted that way when he told you he loves you more than just his best friend. 

“I’m sorry, but I just can’t wrap my head around it. You’re not telling me the whole truth and frankly, I don’t believe you.”  

Your words ring in his ears as he continues to jack himself. 

The memory is still so vivid in his head — the surprised look on your face — certainly not the pleasant one. You were so… surprised. And angry. Like you didn’t believe any of what he said. Like you were trying hard to convince yourself that whatever you were hearing from him wasn’t true. 

Because she doesn’t feel the same way. Jungkook thinks.

He remembers the night you left. How you could barely look him in the eyes. 

“Shit—” Jungkook hisses as he squeezes his balls, hand pumping faster around his swollen cock. He closes his eyes as he tries to regulate his breathing, his stomach tightening at his impending release – and it’s the last thing he does in favor of his own sanity before his mind slips back again to life without you in it. 

He would never have you. He can never be anything to you anymore. 

He will never be, especially as he looks down at his hand on his cock.

How pathetic.

What would you think if you were to see him right now, getting himself off by imagining it’s you instead? You’d be so disgusted. You’d look at him like he’s a different person and feel betrayed because – how could the person you trust think about you like this? 

There’s that sense of self-hatred again that Jungkook feels whenever he jacks off to you. That fear of you finding out and not liking it. 

Jungkook tugs at his cock angrily as he thinks about all that, and he doesn’t notice that the stinging in the sides of his eyes would soon turn into tears running down his cheeks as he tries to reach his climax. 

You would hate him so much. You don’t even like him anymore. Don’t even want to live with him anymore.

But he just wants to cum so bad. Just wants to feel some sort of clarity. Delude himself into basking in that quick dopamine. 

He traps a sob in his throat as he makes quick work of his cock, and with one last squeeze around his tight balls, he shoots his hot cum to the wall, hips bucking at his orgasm. 

Letting out a series of hushed curses, Jungkook continues to pump his cock for more until he feels sensitive, and his dick turns soft and languid against his legs. 

He grabs the shower head to spray the cum off the wall, feeling the water already turning lukewarm. When he finishes cleaning his mess up, he grabs your body wash and exits the shower, throwing the bottle in the trash can with haste as if it burned him. As he turns back around, he catches sight of himself over the lavatory’s mirror. 

There are dark circles under his eyes — not too visible — but they’re there. His eyes are red from crying, and suddenly his body itches. He should shower again and actually clean up this time.

But Jungkook realizes as he stares at himself again… he has never looked so tired. Not even in med school. Or during internship. 

This whole thing is taking a toll on him – he knows that well by now. Even his friends do as well. He’s fucking up his sleeping schedule and he’s not even eating properly. He hits the gym not because he wants to but because it helps shut down his head.

Jungkook sighs. 

He’s long accepted that the love he holds for you is so big it sometimes borders on piteous. He’s spent so many years going into this kind of phase where he just mulls over the same thing; that he loves you, but you will never ever feel the same way back.

And the thing is, he's always been okay with it. Jungkook loves loving you. He’d be a fool not to when he genuinely thinks that you were made to be loved.  

But at this point, he just feels… tired.

Exhausted. Empty.

He wants to sleep. He wants to rest. He wants to wake up the next day and not feel like shit anymore.

Maybe Doyeon was right back at the villa.

It is time to move on.

And maybe… just maybe… unlike all the other times he’s attempted to do the same thing, this time around will be successful.

Your 7am to 2pm shift had just concluded when you arrived at your sister’s place, only to see them both all dolled up, ready to go out.

They told you that you could come with them if you liked, but of course you refused. You’re not the type to interrupt a date and they were certainly too in love for your liking. Don’t get you wrong, you love that for both – but you’re getting pretty sick of romance these days and you’re trying to avoid it as much as possible. Seokjin made sure to throw another one of his “Don’t mope around, okay? We have Macallan in the cupboards. You know the one.” jokes, though – having already known why you’re here in the first place – and your sister pinched his ear painfully enough for you to ignore and roll your eyes at him lightheartedly. 

Which leads you to now, binge-eating a left-over tub of vanilla ice cream on a Sunday afternoon from last night’s impulsive purchase. You know it’s going to make you feel like shit later, but you can’t really bring yourself to care – not when the ice cream tastes too good paired with a Sex and The City episode. 

You like to delude yourself you’re the early season Miranda; independent, boss bitch, career-driven, straightforward but kind. But you had a mortifying realization that maybe you’re actually Carrie. You’re both so obsessed with love and glorify the idea of “The One” that you overlook red flags in a guy just to stay in a relationship. And for what? To be completely broken and fucked over in the end of it all. 

But you don’t want to be Carrie – sure, she has a special place in your heart as a fictional character but real-life Carries, with all of their delusions and ideals, are not meant for the real world.  

“You’re watching that show again?”

You almost fall over the couch when you hear a familiar voice behind you, and when you crane your neck to look who it was, your eyes widen.

“Mom!” you exclaim, rightfully surprised. Your mother – in the flesh – smiles as she sees you grin. “Oh my god, I didn’t know you’d be here— wait, how’d you get inside?”

She waves you off. “You know your sister and Jin gave me a duplicate key to their place. Anyway, I’m just here to drop off some side dishes. Also, I know what you’ve been up to. And stop eating that ice cream.”

You pout, taking the tub away from you. When you see her walk towards the kitchen with her bags – presumably the side dishes she was talking about – you follow behind her steps, helping her load the containers in the fridge. 

“What do you mean you know what I’ve been up to?” 

“You and Jungkook fought, I heard.” 

“Mom,” you say with a tone that tells her you don’t want to talk about it at all. 

“You know I’m going over there shortly to give him these, right? Supposed to be for the both of you, but oh well, you’re lounging around here.” She says. 

“I’m not lounging around here. They love that I’m here.” You counter, referring to your sister and Seokjin. It almost sounded like a whine, though, more than anything. But it was true! They like you being here! They’ve always treated you like their child… but you know you’re kind of pushing it with your sixth-day-stay. 

Your mother looks at you disapprovingly, loading the last container before shutting the fringe doors shut. 

“Whatever you’re fighting about, you know avoiding it is not going to make it better.” 

You sigh. “I’m not even sure if we’re fighting, anyway.” 

“What’s that mean?” Your mom asks, sounding confused. You can imagine.

“I don’t know… just – I don’t think we’re angry at each other.”

“Not being angry at each other is worse than being angry at each other. That sounds like withdrawal.” 

You wince at her words. “Maybe.” 

Your mom sighs. She takes out a bit from the container of stir-fried zucchini and slides you both a plate. “Have you been eating real food? You look like you’re not eating properly.”

Teenager and college you would’ve rolled your eyes because she always says that you’re losing weight and blah blah blah, but it’s not even true. However, you do know she’s just concerned, though, and so you nod your head, picking up a zucchini and eating it.

“Yes. Jin’s a good cook.”

She nods, eating as well. “So is Jungkook. He hasn’t talked to you at all?” 

You thought you’ve dodged the topic of Jungkook completely but apparently your mom’s still on that. You nibble on your bottom lip as you think what to say.

“He… uhm… he didn’t text or call.” Well. There was one time. Two days ago. And it was just a simple text about informing you of the sudden change in the OR schedule. You replied to it with a thanks and a smiley face, but he didn’t say anything after that — not that your thanks should guarantee anything. That was not exactly a conversation starter.

Still. 

“Have you talked to him?” 

Shoot. 

You shake your head a bit. 

The truth is that you can’t be sad about Jungkook not reaching out when you haven’t been doing the same thing either. You’re running away from him – you can admit that. The past week hasn’t been your proudest moment. You’ve thought it over countless times; why you just can’t go ahead and speak to him – because heck, for eight years you’ve always done a good job at it, communicating with each other when things went wrong. Like when he teases you too much and you actually get offended, and the same goes for him.

But what happened wasn’t just something that came out of a supposedly lighthearted banter. It wasn’t your usual banter at all. 

“What happened, sweetie?” And this time your mom’s voice is bordering on concern. 

You don’t look at her when you say, “Jungkook said he’s in love with me.” 

You don’t get a reaction. At least – the reaction you were expecting. You thought she would gasp, or at least let out an, “Oh”, but there’s none of that. When you peer up at her, she just nods. 

As if the news was no surprise. 

“And I take it didn’t go well?” She looks at you gently. 

“N-no,” you stammer. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you say, “It was – it was so messy that day, mom. You know we went to that resort for his birthday, right? He and my boyfriend fought, and just – so much happened. I don’t even remember half of it. Just that he told me he’s been in love with me for the past eight years.” 

Your mom nods. “Your boyfriend… is that Mingyu?” 

“Yes.” It feels weird to call him your boyfriend now. You used to be so giddy calling him that. But right now, it feels almost icky. 

“Why did Jungkook and him fight?” 

You told her what Jungkook told you – everything, and your mom is sweet almost all of the time but as she listens to everything that Mingyu supposedly did and say – especially about you – she can’t help but knit her brows in that quiet anger you know all too well now. But it soon dissipates to worry. 

She steps closer to you. You look at her with a sad smile. With that, she encloses her arms around you, and you let your chin fall on her shoulder as you reciprocate her hug. You almost cry when she squeezes you. “How are you feeling then, sweetie?” She asks, voice so gentle and soft. Comforting. You think this has been what you needed all this time.

“Like shit.” you chuckle. “I’ve never been so tired. I haven’t even talked to Mingyu yet – I haven’t been talking to anybody, even my friends. I don't know why I’m like this.” 

“You know I worry for you.”

“Hm?” 

“You’re such a lovely, sweet girl. And these men keep breaking your heart. I wish I can ease your pain, honey. You have the biggest heart in the world.” 

You nibble on your bottom lip as you feel that stinging in your eyes at her words. You remember Jungkook saying almost the exact same thing.

“Jungkook told me that sometime ago.” you say, holding back the cry you know is coming out any second now. 

“He knows you well.” She says as she caresses your head. 

“I just…” you let out a sigh again, trying to shake off the oncoming tears. “When he told me he loved me all this time, I said I didn’t believe him. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I still can’t.” 

“Do you think he would lie about something like that?” 

It’s firm and final when you say, “No.” Because you know in your heart that was true. Jungkook is anything but a liar. And especially about something like that… you just don’t think he would ever hurt you intentionally. That’d be cruel and Jungkook was never cruel. It’s just not in his nature. 

“Hm. Then is it because you don’t feel the same way at all? That’s why you can’t believe it?” Your mom asks and it’s the most groundbreaking question you’ve ever heard after a while. 

Do you just… not feel the same way? 

That was definitely the biggest question you’ve been avoiding answering. 

But as your mom pushes you slightly so she can look at you earnestly, gently, like she has no expectations whatsoever – just here to hold and comfort you – it beckons you into spilling your emotions. 

“I… I really don’t know, mom.” You intake a sharp breath. “He’s been a constant presence in my life for eight years. We’ve never– we’ve never considered the possibility of being more than just friends. I– I don’t know why he would love me. Or fall for me. He’s never shown interest, the way I saw it – but these days I’ve been rethinking that and I’m beating myself over for being stupid because it’s like – how could I have not known? He’s always been so caring towards me. Always makes time for me. He’s never let me down and he’s just – he’s my person, mom. Always has been. And how could I have thought that he didn’t mean for that to come off as purely platonic?” you stop, feeling your lips wobble. “It’s just… I don’t know. I don’t know what to feel. All I know is that these days without him have been so painful, especially when we haven’t properly talked. I miss him everyday and it kills me that we aren’t like before right now. I want to be by his side all the time, and I think I may have taken that for granted for the past eight years we’ve known each other.” 

You don’t realize you’ve let out so much, but your mom just lets you snuggle closer to her, knowing that you’re feeling a lot right now. And you do. You haven’t talked to anyone about what you really felt – not even your sister, even though you knew she did her best to do so – but as your mom soothes your back with the gentle rub of her hand, you let yourself be comforted. 

“You know what I think, honey?” 

You look up at her with teary eyes, nodding weakly.

She gives you a small smile. “Do you remember that time when I thought he was your boyfriend when you brought him for Christmas?” 

Nodding, you chuckle. Second year of med school it was. Eunwoo was in Switzerland for a a big project – and Jungkook’s parents weren’t in town. You both didn’t have anybody to celebrate Christmas with and so you ended up asking Jungkook to come home with you. 

It wasn’t just your mom who thought he was your boyfriend. Your sister and Seokjin also assumed the same thing. 

Around that time, you haven’t introduced Eunwoo to them yet so basically, they didn’t know that you were taken already. 

“I think this is just me being old… but you kind of… you get to know these things, __. You’ll see somebody's eyes, they way they gaze at somebody. When we were opening those gifts during Christmas eve, I saw the way that kid looked at my daughter with so much adoration that I even thought you were just being coy about him being your boyfriend.” 

Your lips curl into a tight line. 

You… certainly did not notice any of that. Did that really happen?

“I think Jungkook’s a good man, and your dad is fond of him – he asked me yesterday if you’re gonna bring him for Thanksgiving or Christmas, he misses his chess buddy, it seems. No pressure, though,” your mom chuckles. “But Jungkook’s smart, kind, polite, works hard, really charming—” you laugh again, despite yourself, because that’s definitely true. He charmed your parents so quickly with ease. It’s just really about his pleasant personality that attaches people to him. “But most especially, he makes you really happy. I liked that Jaehyun guy and Eunwoo because they made you happy when you were together. Up until they didn’t. I only like people who are good to you, sweetie. That was why I liked your ex-boyfriends for a while,” She begins caressing your head again and you feel like a little girl again, finding comfort in your mom’s bedroom after a bad day at middle school. Your mom smiles softly before she continues, “But those men hurt you. And they leave you. And you know who hasn’t in the past eight years? The only one who’s been consistent in making you happy?” 

It’s Jungkook. He’s always been under your nose while you cried over other men, and he was there to support you through it all. He’s the one who makes you laugh at his stupid jokes. The one who sits with you in your feelings on days when you don’t feel your best. He’s the one who lets you cry on his shoulder when a surgery doesn’t go well, the guy who would drop everything for you with one text or call, the guy who gifts you stupid, stupid random things because they reminded him of you. He’s the guy who shares his playlists with you, comments silly stuff on your equally silly posts, and he’s the only one who has never, ever made you feel like you’re not enough. He’s the only one who has never left and hurt you. 

It’s always been Jungkook. 

Your mom doesn’t need to say the name, though, just one look at you and she knows you're thinking the same thing. 

It’s during midday at the hospital when you see Jungkook again.

The elevator dinged and the doors finally opened on your floor, but you froze in your position when you saw who was inside the whole time. 

It was Jungkook, sitting slightly on the handrails while crossing his arms. His posture straightened for a bit as he met your eyes, looking equally surprised as you. But then he recovered and relaxed in his position just as quickly. 

You couldn’t read the look on his face.

Taking a hold of yourself before the door automatically closes, you stepped a foot inside the lift and pressed on the button of your floor immediately. The 7th floor button is lightened up, so you assumed Jungkook was gonna get off earlier than you since you were going down on the sixth floor. 

The confined space had never felt more suffocating. You could feel there was something in the air – a thick tension that was getting too hard to bear every second you felt the elevator moving down. 

There was a lump that formed in your throat, especially when you caught a glimpse of the reader going floors down fast, and the 7th one was nearing. 

Your heart beat erratically against your chest. You didn’t even feel that nervous back in the OR twenty minutes ago.

But you figured it was the first time you felt close, after all.

It was funny, really – what you felt at that moment. Being physically close to Jungkook had never made you feel like that – like you’re on edge – you’ve always just approached it as something natural, like you were meant to be that way. And those times, you never really thought about the contact ending. 

But in that moment, it felt like he was slipping away – even though you were not even holding him in the first place. 

It was probably why you let out your next words, craning your neck to the side to try and look behind you where you knew Jungkook was at. 

“I miss you.” 

You barely said it. Felt like just a soft whisper as the words slipped past your lips, but there was a break around its edges – like it was the most vulnerable thing you’ve ever said. 

It was. 

And you didn’t exactly know why you did it. 

Maybe you just wanted him to know. Maybe you just wanted him to understand that… that you were still there. And that you missed him. Every single day. Regardless of what happened. 

There was a thick silence that hung in the air after that, and you should’ve taken back your words right after they came out. Embarrassment should’ve clouded you by then. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. 

That was as honest as you could get. 

You didn’t even expect a reply – assuming that maybe Jungkook hadn’t heard it. 

But you heard the soft tap of his steps on the floor and felt his overwhelming presence coming near you. And just like that, you knew he was behind you. Close. A hair's breadth away. 

Then, you hear him let out a soft sigh, and you could feel his breath brush against your ear as he leaned down. You never realized how much you craved his affection until you felt him slightly nudging his cheek against the crown of your head. 

It made you keen. Made you shut your eyes close. Basking in the moment, but you didn’t ignore the pain that it caused. 

Because somehow, despite what might seem like a sweet gesture – the whole thing felt like goodbye.

It was so intimate, though, that you almost forgot that you were currently on the 8th floor and he was dropping off on the next. 

The elevator dinged like a wake-up call. And when you opened your eyes, Jungkook had already peeled his body away from you. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you fought the urge to cry as you saw him walking out. 

Before the door closed, he took one look at you. His mouth opened, as if wanting to say something. You waited. But he closed his lips again, not bothering to look back for even one last time before the elevator doors closed in front of your face. 

The interaction left a certain melancholy in your heart, and it made you run on auto-pilot when the elevator stopped on your floor. 

You never expected for the encounter to happen – but it did, in its own way. And now you have to deal with the consequences of your impulsive actions.

Your mindless walking has led your feet to somewhere a bit secluded. It’s far across the hall, and you recognize it as some old, empty ward. You and your friends have one on the 5th floor but you don’t think you’ve never really been here before and so you weren’t sure.

But you’re desperate to let out a good cry. Maybe not exactly cry – but just be alone for awhile. The hospital and your schedule are busy enough as they are and it’s enough to keep your mind occupied since the morning – but that interaction with Jungkook at the elevator reminded you of the weight that you’ve been carrying lately and you just… want to dissipate a little. Even if it means sacrificing your three-minute lunchtime. 

You don’t suspect anything as you twist the doorknob open – surprise to see it’s not locked like you thought it would be. 

And the sight leaves your mouth hanging open. 

“Oh my god.” 

“What the fuck.” 

“Shit!” You watch as Doyeon pushes off the man wearing a white lab gown on top of her – a very familiar figure that you can only recognize as none other than the attending surgeon Dr. Kim Namjoon. 

A panicked, “I’m sorry!” leaves your mouth before you turn on your heel, ready to fly off the scene when you hear Doyeon’s voice calling you from behind.

“Wait, __!” 

You hesitantly look back.

It’s obvious what they were doing before you entered the room. Doyeon’s hair is unusually out of the ponytail she always shows up to work with, and Dr. Kim… Jesus. He’s always been so intimidating to you – with his tall stature and his aura that reeks so much of authority, even though he doesn’t even try, it feels so fucking weird to suddenly see him with his hair all mussed up when it always looks kempt every single time you see him along the hallways of the hospital. Right now, he looks coy, like he’s shrinking himself as he avoids looking at you.

“Dr. __, I am so deeply sorry,” His apology sounds so remorseful that you feel bad for even having to barge in. You can see Dr. Kim fumbling with his coat as he looks at Doyeon like he’s looking for help. Doyeon looks at him, but she just… rolls her eyes.

“Joon, just–” She cuts herself off, shutting her eyes close. Seemingly agitated. Or embarrassed. You don’t know why you’re still here. “You should leave now, I’ll talk to __.” Doyeon lets her gaze fall back to you and your eyes widen at the declaration, not really knowing if she was serious or not. 

You mean… what are you even going to talk about? Sure! You’re shocked as fuck to see them together in that position but you’re not about to ask her about her sex life!

… Okay. So maybe you are a little bit (only a little) curious about that.

Dr. Kim has always been a mystery to all of you. Taehyung and Jungkook admire him so much, the latter lowkey idolizes him at this point. Nayeon has always spoken highly about him and you’re literally a fan of all his work in his field, especially his books. It doesn’t help that he’s attractive as hell, too, and you all may have gossiped about him at one point in your lives – so sue you for being curious! You’re just human.   

“You sure?” Dr. Kim says, barely spoken, but you don’t miss the gentle way he holds Doyeon’s shoulder as he asks that, the way his face contorts into a concerned expression when he looks down at her. One quick interaction and you instantly realize that oh… this is serious. 

They’re not just having casual sex in this ward.

This is Doyeon’s boyfriend.

Your bestfriend nods at him and you step aside to give Dr. Kim some space to leave the room, still visibly stunned. You thought he was going to leave when he utters another apology again. 

“__, I’m really sorry about this behavior. Doyeon and I—” 

Doyeon groans. “Joon, oh my god. It’s fine.” 

You watch as Dr. Kim’s (who Doyeon apparently calls “Joon”— what the hell) lips fall into a thin line. “Fine. I’ll go. We’ll talk about this later, alright?” 

“I know.” 

He gives you both one last glance before the door closes on you.

You swear you tried to look for cameras everywhere – like they do in The Office – to see if the whole thing was a prank. But no. Your life’s unfortunately not a sitcom.

“I told him to lock the door earlier,” Doyeon starts, sounding defeated as she falls back on one of the emergency beds. Sighing, she covers her face with her hands. “This is so embarrassing.” 

At that, you can’t help but react immediately. 

“You’re embarrassed about the fact that you’re fucking an insanely stupid hot, intelligent man?” Your brows knit. 

Doyeon looks at you and you both stare at each other. She holds her own, like she usually does, but for the first time ever, she breaks and chuckles. The laughter turns hilarious, and you follow her into the bed. 

“God,” she utters. She licks her bottom lip and looks at you shyly. “I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.” 

“I mean… what did you mean to do instead?” 

She hesitates. “I’m not sure.”

You frown. “So, you just… you just weren’t going to tell me? Us?” You didn’t bother to hide the tone of disappointment in your words. Doyeon looks a little ashamed when you verbalized that.

“It’s not that. I just didn’t know how,” She says. You knit your brows in confusion. “You know I’ve always been… private about my dating life or whatever. I don’t tell you guys I’m dating until I’m sure the guy and I are official. I… I don’t even date a lot in the first place.” 

Well… that was true. You nod at her, giving her a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I get that.” Doyeon smiles a little. “How long?” 

There’s a pregnant pause before she says, “Uh… since Feb?” 

“Jesus.” She winces at your reaction. You stare at her with your jaw slack. “What the fuck, Doyeon? Nine months?”

“Well, technically, eight but—” you look at her dryly and Doyeon gives up on her attempt at being facetious. “Okay. I’m sorry. It just happened.” You raise your brow at her. She sighs. “Okay, so we may have hooked up last year in December. You remember the Christmas party at the Ritz?” 

Your mouth just hangs wider, looking at her incredulously. Every drop of information she lets out just grows your surprise bigger, and you have nothing in substance to say except, “You… whore.” 

Doyeon laughs so loud you worry it might have been heard from the outside, but you wince at the slap that follows on your shoulder as she giggles nonstop. 

“Shut the fuck up, oh my god.” 

“No– I just– Oh my god, was that the reason why you bailed on our own Christmas party over at Nayeon’s?” She nods at your question with her lips pursed. You scoff, still not believing it but just overall amused in general. “You’re really throwing me a curveball here, babe. Like – I have never ever heard you talking about Dr. Kim except when you said you’d totally fuck him in that one drinking session. And then, you actually fucking did.”

She rolls her eyes, scoffing. “He started asking me out on dates in January and he asked me to be his girlfriend in Feb. I don’t even know how it happened. It just did,” She shrugs, as if she just said that the skies are blue. “I’m pretty good at hiding, huh?” 

You don’t hide the way you instantly frown.

“I’m happy for you, Doyeon, I really am. But… did you not feel like you could tell me? Or any of us?”

At least she looks apologetic, nibbling on her bottom lip before she says, “It’s not that, __. I didn’t know how to tell you guys. There’s this – there’s this thing when you date a co-worker, especially in the hospital. He’s an attendant, and he’s about to be chief of surgery next two months, you know that right? And it’s just— I know you will never think it, or the rest of our friends – but I just. I didn’t want anyone to think that I’m… that I’m sleeping my way here, you know? It’s fucking weird. And Ms. Yan from fuckass HR hates me for some reason. I’d be public enemy number one around here, __.”

You wince hearing her explanation. Nodding, you rub her shoulder to offer some kind of comfort, noticing that she’s actually silently fuming just by the mere thought of that. Meaning she must have been thinking about it for quite some time now. 

“But you know we’ll never think of it like that, right?” You confirm with her, just to be sure. You love Doyeon – she’s basically your sister at this point – and you don’t ever want her to feel like she can’t trust you.

“Of course. I don’t… I can’t really offer you any explanation other than I got scared and just wasn’t ready. Joon wants to let people know… and I don’t know. I guess I’m thinking about that too nowadays.” She says, and she’s not really looking at you anymore, seemingly deep in thought.

You begin rubbing her back. “It’s fine if you’re not ready yet.” 

“Oh, this is getting kind of mushy. I hate it.” Doyeon says dryly. You push her slightly which sends her sideways a bit, earning a laugh from her.

“Joon, huh?” You decide to tease to lighten up the mood. Instead of backing down and getting shy like you expected, Doyeon raises her brow. “Can I be honest with you, though?” You say, fiddling with your fingers. She nods so you tread lightly to your next words. “This will sound crazy, I know, but for the longest time I thought Jungkook was your secret boyfriend.”

“What the fuck?” Doyeon says, sharp and almost… disgusted. You don’t expect such a reaction. 

“Okay, you don’t need to sound so disgusted. Jungkook’s a good-looking guy and he’s very decent.” You say, sounding weirdly defensive – even to your own ears.

“No– that’s not what I meant—” Doyeon cuts herself off with a laugh. “That’s actually really funny, though.” You look at her curiously. “Somehow, I thought about you thinking that. Especially after that time at the villa when you walked in on us talking by the pool deck.” 

“I…” you try to come up with an excuse, something to deny her claim, but nothing comes, and your eyebrows knit in confusion because you actually don’t know yourself why you felt that way back then. You still remember the weird feeling that flared up in your chest upon seeing them in such an intimate position — with Jungkook’s head on Doyeon’s stomach and her caressing his head. Maybe you’re more malicious than you let on, but can she really blame you for thinking there was more to that? Besides, Jungkook’s second closest in the group is probably her. It made sense to assume they were secretly together. 

“God, don’t,” Doyeon says incredulously. “Obviously, he’s not my secret boyfriend. I don’t like him and he does not like me, at least not that way. That man only has heart eyes for you and I’m only into Namjoon, thank you very much.” 

You wince. “Sorry.”

“But were you really jealous that time, though?” Doyeon asks, intrigued. “I mean, I thought about it. You were acting weird. But I kind of just shrugged it off.”

“I was not jealous, what the hell,” you quickly say. “I was just surprised. And you’re both really close, so I don’t know.” 

Doyeon arches her brow. “You’re also both close, so going by that logic, are you two together?” You frown at her. She laughs, knowing she proved her point. “Alright, enough about that. How have you been these days?”

You stare at her before sighing.

“I’ve been wanting to say sorry.” 

“Damn straight,” she tells you immediately, like she’s been looking forward to it. “Like, you bitch– I thought you died. Not talking to me or to anybody for a week is crazy.”

“It’s not my proudest moment.” 

“Why?” 

You subtly inhale a shaky breath. “I… to be honest? I thought you guys were mad at me.” 

“What?” You can hear the incredulous tone Doyeon’s taking on. And you slowly realize that you completely just conjured a whole ass narrative in your head the whole time. 

“I know. I feel terrible about it. But I just… I couldn’t help but think that I ruined… things.” 

“Oh…” Doyeon says, and she cranes her neck down to meet your gaze as you’re tucking your head down slightly. “Why did you think that?” 

You open your mouth and close it, trying to find the right words.

“I… know I was completely being ambitious when I said I wanted to bring Mingyu along to the trip – and I realize I shouldn’t have done that. Our relationship was still so fresh, and I was already bringing him along to what was supposed to be our vacation. And the fight happened and the whole thing just went to complete shit. We didn’t even get to spend our five nights there because you guys had to book us a flight immediately and I just… I guess I just feel so bad about it. Had I not invited him… the trip would’ve been way more different. Happier, that I’m sure of.”

“__,” Doyeon calls your name firmly. “That was not any of your fault. Sure, you should’ve consulted with us – because I’m not gonna lie, you threw us in for a surprise when you said that Mingyu was coming, but that fight was not your fault. At all. They physically fought each other on their own accord, even though they knew they were already too grown to be doing that shit. Don’t feel guilty about what those men did.” 

You bite your lip. “Still. They— uhm. They apparently fought because of me. It’s stupid.” 

“Exactly. But… Mingyu kind of deserved it. Sorry.” Doyeon comments. 

You wince. “You know?” 

“Jungkook told us about it, yeah.” Doyeon says, as if hesitant to even mention his name in the conversation. 

You sigh. You’re not really surprised. “Did he… did he tell you guys… everything?” 

“He did.” Doyeon confirms. “It’s not actually new news for us, __.” 

You look confuse when you meet her gaze. “How do you mean?” 

She presses her lips into a thin line. “He’s in love with you. We’ve known for a while,” You stare at her, mouth agape. Doyeon reluctantly adds, “Since med school.”

“Oh.” You close your eyes for a moment. “Even Nayeon?” 

She nods. “Yes.” 

You’re silent for a while before you look away. Nodding, you whisper, “I see,” You sigh. “I don’t even… I’m not even surprised about that. Even my mother knows — I mean, Jungkook didn’t tell her of course, but she said she knew he had feelings for me.”

“I think… everybody knows, __.” Your eyes fall to Doyeon. She gives you a gentle smile. “Everybody who sees the way Jungkook looks at you immediately knows right away. He doesn’t have to tell someone he likes you for them to know that. Taehyung and I figured it out ourselves as well. And then Nayeon met you both and she did the same thing. Just had to fish out the confirmation from Jungkook himself.” 

“That’s…” you trail off, not really knowing what to say. “I’m really stupid for not noticing all this time, huh?”

“Hmm… maybe. Sort of. But also, not really. I guess it must’ve been just different for you. We’re just bystanders of your interactions — when Jungkook teases you like a fucker it’s easy to assume he’s flirting with you, but it must’ve been annoying as hell for you.”

You chuckle a bit. But it’s with fondness as you agree, “Yeah…”

“He sucks ass at flirting.” 

“I agree…” you trail off. “I – well, you probably know, but I told him I don’t believe him,” Doyeon hums, listening in. “I regret saying that. It really hurt him. But… who can blame me, Doyeon? I mean, am I not right for having doubts? Being confused? I mean, okay, yes, I was taken for the first four years we knew each other but I was— I was available two years ago and he didn’t— he didn't do anything. Why didn’t he do anything?” The words are coming off as a rant, you’re fully aware, but you let yourself go, anyway. “He was dating all those women and I just… how am I supposed to believe him when I thought he showed me the opposite?” 

“You mean how were you supposed to believe him when he sleeps around?”

You shut your eyes close. “I don’t– I don’t necessarily think he sleeps around, okay? Jungkook’s not a fuckboy or someone who sleeps with anyone with a pulse. He’s too grown for that shit. But I… I just meant, that… he dated a lot all throughout the time we knew each other, so where was I in the equation? You know what I mean?”

Doyeon stares at you for a bit, then she nods, looking ahead. “I know what you mean.” 

“Yeah?”

She nods. Then, “Are you worried he’s not sincere about his feelings? Because he dated a lot of people?”

“I-I’m not sure about that.” But maybe, that thought bothers you a bit.

“When was the last time he was with somebody?”

You don’t mean to sound defensive when you retort back with, “I wouldn’t know that. Contrary to popular belief, Jungkook and I do not actually talk about everything, and that includes our sex lives, but I know when he’s… seeing somebody.” 

“How?” Doyeon asks, looking at you. She wasn’t trying to trick you into anything, just genuine curiosity written all over her face.

You shy away from her gaze. “Four months ago… Nayeon’s engagement party. He was checking that woman out.”

“Oh… Kwon Jihyo?” 

Your brows furrow. “You know her?” 

Doyeon nods. “Yeah. Physio class back in freshman year. I talked to her at the party as well,” you grow more confused and Doyeon adds, “Also, she’s gay. Married with two kids.” 

“Oh.” 

That earns a chuckle from Doyeon. Tapping your arm, she tells you, “You don’t have a gay radar, it’s fine.” 

“Oh my god…” you slap a hand on your forehead. “I teased him about sleeping with her after the party…” 

You’ve always seen Jungkook as a regular ladies man in your head due to the fact that he gets women, quite very easily. Empirically, Jungkook goes on a lot of dates. But to be completely honest with yourself, you don’t even know the extent of those said dates. Jungkook doesn’t exactly oppose it when you lightheartedly tease him about being a playboy, but you do notice when that puts him off a bit.

Maybe you should’ve pried – maybe he gets put off because it’s simply not true? But you don’t think it’s not not true either, so… do you really think he sleeps around?

“Look,” Doyeon suddenly says which makes you look at her, snapping you out of your own messy thoughts. “I’m not trying to defend him or put in a good word for him or whatever. But I do know that you know him better than I do, so I’m sure you don’t actually think he isn’t sincere about his feelings for you. If you’re worried about his dating history, talk to him about that – but if we’re going by technical definition here, I don’t think Jungkook sleeps around, __. He doesn’t have a new woman switched out for another every seven business days, does he? Or is that a wrong assumption—”

“God, no,” you roll your eyes at her. “And anyway, why are we talking about this? I don’t care who he has sex with. He can do whatever he wants. He’s a grown man.”

“Yeah… but you just said it’s sort of the reason why you’re holding back.”

You feel blood rushing to your cheek because… that is true. You don’t even know why. Because you stand for what you said that he can do whatever the hell he wants. He’s young and he’s objectively attractive and he can have sex whenever he wants…

But somehow, that very thought — of Jungkook being with anybody that way, suddenly made a weird feeling flare up in your chest. You’ve never really paid it mind before, but right now that you now know what you know…

“It just kind of hurts a bit, I guess.” You say, not looking at Doyeon. “I mean, it’s irrational, really. I don’t expect him to be celibate for the eight years he’s claimed to love me, that��s just insane. I’ve also had sex with other people throughout the time and it would be unfair of me to dwell on the fact that he’s been with other people in the past when I also have but… it’s just… you know…” you trail off, and you feel like you’re gonna burst with so much embarrassment from the thoughts running through your head.

“I know… what?” Doyeon says, trying to fill in the gaps.

“I guess I just…” you swallow the lump in your throat. “I guess…. I guess I just expected him to want only me.” 

“Oh.” you look at Doyeon. “Oh wow. That’s…” 

You huff. “It’s childish, I know. It’s so stupid – I can’t think that. It’s unfair for him.”

Doyeon shakes her head. “No, I mean, I get that. I get that completely,” She scoots closer to you. “You have to know, though, that for the past eight years, Jungkook has tried many times to move on from you.” That words felt like a bucket of cold water. He’s tried…? Doyeon gives you a small smile when she notices the way your face fell. “It was really tough for him when you and Eunwoo got serious, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He tried seeing other people, in the hopes that they could make him feel what he does for you. He didn’t do that in vain – like he did it maliciously in hopes that you would get jealous or whatever. He did that – he does that – because he also genuinely wants to be with someone who can reciprocate his feelings. Min Sora was really close… but I don’t really know what happened to that. I’ve assumed since then that he must still probably love you. And he still apparently does, even to this day. I’m not saying all of this in favor of him, okay? But do you not want to give him a chance because of that? He really loves you, __. He admires you a lot. You don’t know how much he’s just in awe of you. He talks about you a lot when you’re not around, and he’d ditch just about anything to get to you with one call. Look… I don’t know what you feel, and at the end of the day, you call the shots. But I think he’s worth it, __. Because I know him as well and everybody knows he’ll treat you right. You just gotta give him the chance.”

You take in Doyeon’s words carefully.

“That’s not really the only thing I’m skeptical about,” you sigh. “Him having slept with other people is not the top of my concern, because we weren’t in any relationship. Again, I couldn’t have expected him to be celibate all this time. What I’m really worried about is the fact that he’s so— he’s so important to me, Doyeon. I’ve known him for eight years and he’s… he’s quite literally the best thing that ever happened to me—” you stop for awhile because you feel your voice breaking, just in time when the sides of your eyes sting with precedent tears. But you can’t cry right now. You’ve done that a lot in the past few days.  “And if— and if I do feel the same, and then we do this thing, what if it all goes wrong? I don’t – I can’t really bear the thought of him not present in my life. I have never considered that ever since I’ve known him. I’m so lucky with my friendships but my romantic relationships all suck. They’re shit. And I don’t want to have a shit romantic relationship with Jungkook, because that would mean I’d lose him. And I don’t want to lose him… do you— do you get me, Doyeon? I’m so scared. Because there's this part of me that wholeheartedly believes what he said, but there’s a bigger part of me that’s in denial because I can’t stop thinking about things going wrong.” 

“Hey,” Doyeon gently calls, and you don’t realize that you’ve been holding back a sob because the moment she scoots closer, arm circling your back, you bury your face in her chest and let out a quiet cry. She cradles your head, and you close your eyes at that. “What if things don’t go wrong, though? What if it works out?” 

You sniffle. “But things always go wrong for me and my boyfriends. I don’t know what I did to deserve it, but they just never end well.” 

Doyeon lets out a heavy breath. “I completely understand that. Again, you know Jungkook better than I do. Better than anybody I know, really. You would know exactly what he’s capable of – and that includes the possibility of him hurting you, or the lack of it thereof. It’s really your choice, __. Just… just talk to him, okay? He’s been wanting to, but you’re not reaching out and he said he didn’t want to suffocate you or anything like that.” 

You quickly perk up at that. “He said that?” Doyeon nods. It makes your shoulders deflate. “But… but we were in the elevator today and he…”

“He what?”

“He… uhm… well I said something stupid,” you wince, wiping the stray tears from your cheeks. “I said I miss him, but he didn’t – I don’t know. He didn’t say anything,” Nibbling on your bottom lip anxiously, you look at Doyeon reluctantly, gauging her reaction. “I think he actually hates me now.”

Doyeon is quiet for a moment before she speaks. “You just… you really have no clue how much he loves you, huh? You can kill a close relative of his and he’ll make excuses for you, I don’t doubt that even for a second,” She says and for a moment you’re a bit offended because you’re getting kind of tired of people pointing out that Jungkook being into you is obvious like how the grasses are green, but Doyeon shakes her head, face in pure disbelief. And you just know she didn’t mean it that way. She genuinely looks baffled. “You really need to talk, __. This is… it really hurts seeing you both like this."  

You tuck your head down. “I’m thinking about it.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I think… I’m going back to our place tonight. But I’m not sure. I’ll probably chicken out last minute.” 

Doyeon pats your arm. “Do it, okay? Just be honest with yourself and to him. You both need that.” 

You give her a small, weak smile.

You’re pretty much drained the moment you arrive at your place. Sighing heavily, you punch in the passcode and almost feel your knees buckling at the sight of the interior of your apartment. 

It feels like it’s been so long since you’ve been here, and coupled with the discussion that you had with Doyeon yesterday, everything suddenly feels overstimulating and there’s an urge at the sides of your eyes to cry. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you breathe in and out as you enter the threshold, noting the fact that nobody is at home. Or Jungkook isn’t present anywhere in the living room. You’re a bit grateful for that if you have to be honest to yourself – after all, the last time that you talked to him did not exactly go as well as you’d like. 

He could be in his room, though. That’s what you assume as you go straight over to the kitchen in hopes to heat up the take-out that you bought at the driveway. As you leave your phone on the counter, you notice the to-go container from Chipotle on the same surface, as well as the laptop that is left open beside it. 

So Jungkook is home. 

The question is, where could he possibly be, leaving out his stuff here in the kitchen? Might be in his bedroom to grab something real quick? 

You don’t mean to do the next thing that comes to your mind, but your feet – your stupid feet – track back from the microwave to the island, and your eyes betray you as they go look and read the words on the screen of Jungkook’s macbook. 

The tab that shows is an apartment listing website, and besides are more tabs that show some familiar real-estate names you’ve come to on the internet before when you were looking for a place. 

It makes you freeze in your spot, eyes glued to the daunting images of the apartment layout that Jungkook must’ve clicked on awhile ago, and you take note that he’s seemingly, specifically, looking for one-apartment bedrooms and studio apartments. 

Your mind goes into a sudden haywire at the sight. 

What does this mean? 

“Oh, hey,”

The embodied voice makes your head snap to its direction, and you see Jungkook standing in front of you in his sweats and shirt – his usual home clothes – with a charger in his hand. 

“Jungkook.” You say, or more like, breathe out. Your heart feels like it’s somersaulting for some reason at the sight of him. 

But Jungkook looks just as surprised as you. 

“I… I didn’t know you’re coming ho– back.” He says, and there’s a twinge in your heart that you ignore when you caught him pointedly avoiding the word home when pertaining to your place. Somehow, that felt intentional.

But you give him a smile. Probably a weak one. Probably doesn’t really look like a smile at all and more like a grimace. If Jungkook notices, he doesn’t say anything. Just goes straight to the direction of the highchairs on the island and plug in his charger for his laptop. 

Then, he turns to look at you. “Uh... you just got off from your shift?” 

“Yeah. You too?” You say, nibbling your bottom lip with your teeth. A nervous habit. 

“Nah, got off a few hours ago.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

“Yeah.” 

You nod your head. You stand there for a while, letting the silence that’s admittedly awkward hang in the air. 

It’s weird, really. Jungkook and you usually have a lot to say to each other – but right now, there doesn’t seem to be a single thing you can say to one another. 

It breaks your heart that’s the current case. 

“Well, uhm. That’s Zillow.” You say, pointing to his laptop. The moment the words left your lips you swear you could have slapped yourself. 

How stupid to ask him about it. How incredibly stupid for that thing to be your choice of topic after weeks of no proper communication with him. 

Jungkook seems surprised at this, though, turning his head immediately to look at his own laptop. There’s a certain jerk in his movements when he moves his fingers to the trackpad that closes the entire window of the internet and shows his wallpaper instead. 

“Oh. Yeah. That was… Zillow.” 

Stupid, stupid you makes everything even more awkward when you say, “You’re looking for a place?” 

Jungkook stares at you for awhile. There’s a pregnant pause, and then he nods his head. A bit hesitant. But his voice is full when he speaks. 

“Yeah.” 

So, he’s moving out. That’s what you think as you avoid looking at his face and let your gaze fall back to his laptop. 

You give him a small smile. 

“Ah. Good luck with the search, then.”

Your heart completely breaks when you say the words.

Suddenly, the words of your supposed confession get stuck and they die in your throat. You let yourself believe that coming home tonight would fix everything; you just had to go inside, talk to Jungkook, tell him you were sorry about what you said – and the rest would just do its thing and you'll be back to okay.

But he's moving out, and every bit of hope in you shuts down.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything for a while, and you’re just about to turn on your heels to go to your room but then he utters lowly, almost like a whisper. 

“It’s not final.” 

“Hm?” You hum, not sure if you caught that. 

Rubbing the back of his neck, Jungkook looks away as he says again, “I mean, I’m just looking. I was gonna talk to you before I finalize my plans.”

“Talk to me? Why?”

“Since we’re on a joint lease and all that.” 

“Oh.” You nod to yourself, dumbfounded. It's embarrassing the way you lit up with expectation when he said it wasn't final, for it to completely die anyway when he said that. You feel like you're not wanted. “Yeah. Right.” 

“I assume you’re tired from your shift, though, so maybe we can go over it tomorrow? Or any day you like, really.” Jungkook shrugs. 

“No, tonight’s fine,” You wave your hand, walking towards his direction and seating yourself on the chair beside him. You try to focus all your attention on the screen in front of you instead of Jungkook’s overwhelming presence. You’ve always thought he was big but tonight, he feels even bigger and you’re intimidated. “Are you writing a notice to the landlord?”

“Yeah – I mean, after we talk about the move, that is.” 

“Wow.” You can’t help but let out. “You really thought about all this while I was away?” 

You regret the words just as instantly as they leave your mouth. 

Looking at Jungkook hesitantly, you watch as his face falls, mouth opening and closing, as if at a loss for words. 

You take them back before he says something. “Sorry — I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.” Sharp and edgy, clipped and… angry. Sort of accusatory. Like you’re pinning something bad on him.

“It’s fine.” Jungkook says after awhile, returning back his gaze on the laptop. 

His withdrawal makes you deflate. He seems so uninterested. Is he done with you? Just like that?

“You know what,” You utter after a pregnant pause, standing up from the chair and getting back on your feet. “I actually have a headache. I think we should go over this tomorrow.”

Jungkook looks confused but he nods, anyway. “I just… stocked up on Advil yesterday. So, if you need it… it’s just in the kit.” 

“Sure. Thanks,” You give him a small smile. “I’ll, just go, uh, shower for a bit.” You point to the bathroom across from you. 

Before you go, Jungkook calls your name.

“__.”

You turn around to look at him. “Yes?”

“Are you…” He trails off. You wish he’d look at you like he usually does. “Are you back for good?”

You don’t expect that question at all. But you collect yourself on time to respond. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

Jungkook’s expression is something unreadable, so you throw him an awkward smile. You’re not sure if he returned it, because everything is becoming too much, and you can’t help but overthink every single thing he does. So, before you can dwell on that, you go straight to the bathroom to do your business. 

You shower quickly – you can’t focus when you know that Jungkook is just outside, and he can probably hear the water running. You’ve never really paid thoughts to these stuff except the first few weeks of moving in with him, but right now, there’s a certain awkward tension in the air and it’s slowly suffocating you. You needed to get out of the shower box quick.

And so you did, but you don’t expect the series of knocks on the door, with Jungkook’s voice behind it. 

“__?” 

“Y-yeah?” You stammer, wrapping your towel around you (that Jungkook thankfully hasn’t thrown out yet) with haste and getting to the door immediately to answer him. 

When you open it, Jungkook visibly freezes for a bit. And you realize you’re in nothing but a piece of cotton; bare underneath, droplets of water running through your body from the tips of your uncovered, wet hair. 

You consciously tighten the towel around your body, making sure to act unbothered when you say, “What?” 

Jungkook seems to snap out of the moment just as you did. When you follow the hand that he lifts, you see your phone in it. Weirdly enough, you had time to notice the way the device fits so small in his hand when you can barely wrap your phone around your fingers yourself.

What the actual fuck are you talking about, you tell yourself at the back of your head. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck—

“You left this on the counter. Mingyu’s been calling you.” 

It’s like you’ve been suddenly hit by a truck upon hearing the name.

“Oh. Okay. Sorry about that.” You take your phone when he offers it to you. You don’t know why but you avoid Jungkook’s eyes as you step out of the bathroom and press the decline button, causing the ringtone to stop abruptly. 

You don’t look back at him as you enter your bedroom, locking the door and throwing your phone on the mattress and going straight to your closet.

Nothing much has changed since the last seven or so days. What would change, anyway? It’s not like Jungkook has some sort of business in here. 

When you finished dressing yourself up with your usual pajamas, a worn-out tee and a pair of short shorts, you go over right to your bed, picking up your phone. 

The notification bar says that you have six missed calls from Mingyu and two texts. An upgrade from his three to four times in the previous days. 

See, it’s not only Jungkook or Doyeon or Nayeon or Taehyung whom you’ve been avoiding. It’s also Mingyu. The last time that you two talked was when you said goodbye to each other when he was catching his flight from the resort. You’ve completely shut everybody out after that thing happened, and again, it’s not your proudest moment. You’re only non-confrontational to a certain degree, but you usually handle your problems like a grown woman. 

You just really don’t know how to handle this one. 

But Mingyu’s been calling, and you haven’t answered or replied to any of his messages ever since. 

It’s just… everytime you think about him… it hurts.

It hurts to think of somebody you’ve given your trust to, only for them to step on it without any remorse. It hurts that you once thought he was going to be the one, only for him to end up as someone you’re starting to… hate. It hurts extremely that just eight days ago, you held this high level of adoration for him, but now you don’t feel anything at all but simmering anger. 

Sighing, you click on his message instead of sliding it out, gearing yourself for what you’re about to read.

gyu😽 [10:15pm]: Dinner at my place tonight? gyu😽 [10:32pm]: Can you pick up my calls?

You scrolled through the other ones he sent in the past week, and you find out that they’re simply just a variation of “do you want to have dinner together tonight”, “why aren’t you picking up?” and shockingly… a couple texts of “i miss you”. 

You’ve only been bullshitting when you told Jungkook that you had a headache, but right now that excuse might be true because you can feel a tick in your head, a certain bang on the front, and you just want all of this to end. 

Letting out a controlled breath, you swallow the lump in your throat as you type a reply. Finally.

You [10:50pm]: Can we talk tomorrow? 

To your surprise, Mingyu responds quickly.

gyu😽 [10:51pm]: of course. dinner?

You [10:52pm]: yeah. i get off at around 8 tomorrow.

gyu😽 [10:52pm]: I have some paperworks to attend to but 8 is fine by me.  gyu😽 [10:53pm]: Can we go to a restaurant? gyu😽 [10:53pm]: I haven’t cleaned my place so I thought we could go outside

You [10:54pm]: It’s alright. Also, no need to pick me up. I’ll uber. 

gyu😽 [10:55pm]: You sure?

You [10:56pm]: Yeah.

gyu😽 [10:56pm]: Alright then.

You don’t get a lot of sleep that night.

“Hey, sorry I’m a bit late. The partners had a meeting over at the firm,” Mingyu says, loosening his tie a little, breathing a bit sharp as he takes the seat across from you. 

You nod, giving him a small smile. Taking a sip from your water, you watch as Mingyu fixes his tie again, some sort of attempt to look kempt, like he hasn’t just run here. He was in a rush, and you feel bad that he had to go over here quickly when the partners meeting was probably something important. He could’ve canceled and you wouldn’t have mind. 

“So. Hi,” Mingyu greets you as if he’s making up for his rash entrance earlier. He gives you a smile, the one that’s his usual charming smile – you remember fawning over it the first time you met him. “How have you been?”

“Fine. I’ve been doing well.” you answer. In your lap, your fingers fiddle with each other.

You’ve thought about how you are going to go over this, but obviously the scenarios that played in your head yesterday and before you went here were so much more different than now. You weren’t an anxious mess in your imagination.

Mingyu nods. “That’s good to hear. Been doing fine as well.” He says casually. 

That makes something flare up in your chest.

Fine? He’s been doing fine? 

Before you can say something, a waiter comes up to your table to give you the menu, and that effectively keeps you from saying the words you were probably going to regret as soon as they come out of your mouth. 

You both tell your respective orders to the waiter before he walks away, leaving you two nodding and smiling ahead. When he’s gone, you’re left alone with Mingyu again. 

You look at him — and his usual suits and tie ensemble would usually make you gush internally about how good he looks, how you can still see the way he’s built under the pristine fabric of his clothes, and how attractive he is the way he carries himself. 

“I’m glad you called me tonight, sweetheart.”

And you don’t expect the way the hairs on your body tingle with… ick. 

“Sure.” You say, drinking from your glass of water again.

Just get over it, your mind convinces you. But how are you going to approach it?

Moments pass and then suddenly, Mingyu lets out a heavy breath. You peer up at him, raising a brow. 

“Alright, I’m not gonna skirt around this anymore, __,” He says, and his eyebrows are knitted in what seems like confusion when he meets your gaze. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been avoiding me.”

The confrontation somehow eases you even though it shouldn’t.

Licking your bottom lip – an anxious habit that you try hard to forgo – you compose yourself before you say, “I have. Yes, you’re right.”

“Why?” Mingyu asks with genuine curiosity. 

Somehow, this bothers you. Does he really not know or he’s just pretending not to know? Whichever it is, it does not really make you feel any better about him. If he’s pretending not to know, then he’s an even bigger asshole than you’re letting him on, but if he does not know, then that’s just even worse. Imagine doing all of those things and not being aware that you did something wrong enough to upset people? 

“I have to be completely honest with you, Mingyu. I want to break up.” 

The words come out easily as opposed to what you expected. 

Somehow, it’s strange, really. You’ve never dumped anybody before. Of course, you don’t count those casual dates you’ve had in the past two years because they were never that serious. But usually, in your long relationships, the other guy does the dumping and never you. 

So, right now, as you sit across from Mingyu, finally declaring what you’ve been thinking over the past week, you feel a sense of liberation. A cliché, really. There’s a feeling of discomfort gnawing at some parts of you, but you choose to ignore it, bravely meeting his gaze instead. 

“What?”

“I want to break up with you.” You reiterate, this time fuller so he knows your decision is final.

His mouth opens and closes, and there’s a pregnant pause that hangs in the air before he finds his tongue. “But why?” 

“Are you serious?” You can’t help but snap. “Do you really not know?” 

“No. Fill me in, because I’m confused.” Mingyu doubles down, and it fires you up a little bit. 

“Mingyu, Jungkook told me everything,” You say, and you notice the way his expression changes into something more… unreadable the moment you dropped Jungkook’s name. “And I mean everything. What you did with his girlfriend back in college, and what you said about me to goad him into a fight. I mean, what were you thinking, Mingyu? All of that was just… low. Even for you. I can’t believe you’d do any of that.” You catch your breath after you say the words, not realizing how heavy it would feel to let them out. You’ve never been confrontational, would prefer if the other person did all the talking, and to do this right now is taking so much from you.

“He told you everything?” Mingyu asks again. You watch as he relaxes his posture, and you grow confused when his lips curl into a smirk. “I knew he would do that. Come crying to you with his lovesick head. Did he finally grow some to tell you he loves you, then?” 

You recoil, not expecting that. “That’s none of your business.”

“It is my business. You’re my girlfriend.”

“I’m not anymore.”

Mingyu inhales a sharp breath. “So, you’re choosing him?” 

“I—I— what?” you blurt out, surprised at his audacity. “I’m not choosing anybody. And it’s really bold of you to assume that you’re still one of my options after all that.” 

Scoffing, Mingyu drinks from his water. He looks at you with a blank stare as he says, “Well, be honest with me now. Do you love him?” 

“Do I love him?” You chuckle, not the least bit of humor in it. “You don’t really deserve my honesty, Mingyu. You had all of those four months to be honest with me and you didn’t do shit. Don’t ask me any personal questions and expect me to give you an honest answer. Because I won’t give you any of it.” 

“You said a lot of things but I know you love him just as much as he loves you.”

“What are you talking about?”

This time, Mingyu’s tone borders on sharp when he leans down to get to you closer so you can hear him clearly. “You think it was easy for me to be in a relationship with you when all you could talk and think about was Jungkook? Jungkook who was only supposedly your bestfriend?” It’s said with so much wrath that you can’t help but physically recoil at his words. When you don’t say anything, Mingyu continues, “Jungkook told me this movie’s good, Jungkook said their aglio e olio tastes great, Jungkook and I were just talking about this — I could go on how many times you’ve always managed to insert him in anything even when we’re together, but I did not want to be that kind of boyfriend who got jealous over their girl’s friends, and I was that for you – and you think I’m the bad guy here?”

You blink, mouth opening and closing. You fish for some words, something to defend yourself with. Have you really said all that? Did you really do that? Did you really talk about Jungkook enough times that Mingyu took notice of it? 

You’ve always thought that your friendship with Jungkook is platonic. You’ve convinced yourself of that and Jungkook seemed to think the same — at least that’s what you thought prior to his confession – and you like to think that your friendship works, even though the majority of people don’t agree that opposite genders can be purely friends.

But… did you think wrong? Did you really just convince yourself it was platonic when all along… it was not? 

You don’t exactly recall the moments that you talked about him while you were with Mingyu. It’s hard to when talking about Jungkook just comes like second nature. You don’t count the times you see the grass being green – because they are and will always be green. 

And that’s what Jungkook is to you. He’s been such a constant presence in your life that you can’t help but bring him up in any case because… because it just feels right to do so.

Now you think about your relationship with Eunwoo. How he never really liked Jungkook. Did he think the same as Mingyu? Did you also talk about your best friend too much in his presence? Did he count the times you mentioned Jungkook’s name in your conversations? Do you really talk so much about him?

“See?” Mingyu says after a while and it snaps you out of your stupor. “Don’t tell me I’m a liar when you’ve also been lying to me this whole time.” 

“How dare you?” You snap at him. You can take him pointing out about the thing with Jungkook, but never this. “I didn’t hide anything from you. I was not the one with the history of cheating with their friend’s girlfriend and I didn’t talk behind your back like you’re merely just a piece of meat.” 

Mingyu visibly stills and you bite your lip after saying the words. You didn’t mean for it to come out that way. Didn’t really mean to say that in the first place. But it’s done and you can’t cry over spilled milk. 

Doesn’t negate the fact that you feel like shit, though.

“You think I didn’t regret what I did?” Mingyu says, a little quiet this time. If you weren’t at the quieter part of the restaurant, in a booth where the sound of the classical music and people’s chatters are muffled, you won’t hear him at all. “Jungkook and I were close, __. We really were. And I fucked up and ruined his trust. But you also don’t know how and why that happened. Jiyeon was already cheating on him before she hit on me–” 

“Oh, so is that the part where you volunteered to be one of her “victims”, too?” You say sarcastically, cutting him off, incredulous about the fact that he’s really trying to make excuses for himself right now. 

“We were fucking drunk– and high, okay? We didn’t know what we were doing.” Mingyu says through his teeth, and it’s the first time you see him lose control. He’s always so kempt and so composed, it’s baffling you’re seeing him in this state.

But you refuse to believe his bullshit. 

“You know what, I don't know why you’re saying this to me. You should be saying this to Jungkook and frankly, I simply don’t care. What happened back then is between you – don’t include me into any of your arguments ever again,” You say exasperatedly. “My issue is that – and why I’m breaking up with you in the first place – is that you lied to me, Mingyu. You lied to me about so much. And If I were to go through this relationship with you longer, I don't know what else you’re going to lie to me about, and I don’t want that. Let’s not waste each other’s time and end it right here, right now.” 

Mingyu leans back on his seat. “I can’t change your mind even if I apologize to you about that, huh?”

You shake your head.

He nods. 

“Alright.” 

You look at him again.

Kim Mingyu has sharp features that usually make him look broody from an outsider perspective, but you’ve seen the way he smiles and how gentle he looks when he does. Right now, though, he looks… genuinely sad. 

He lied to you, yes, but somehow, there’s still some part of you that wants to know if he felt the least bit genuine about you. That it wasn’t all just a ploy to get to Jungkook. 

“Did you really like me? Even for a moment?” You break the silence, voice breaking slightly at the end. 

Mingyu looks up at you and you don’t expect the way his lips curl up into a small smile. “Yes, __. I did. I liked you the first time we met and believe it or not, I still have feelings for you right now.”

You look away to avoid his intense gaze. 

It’s weird. It’s so weird. Because even though you know in your heart that he’s not and will never be good for you and that he’s not a loss, your heart still aches at the declaration. 

“I don’t really know if I believe that.” You say, almost like a whisper. 

“I’m sorry, then.” Mingyu says, and it sounds so sincere that you start to feel some sort of stinging in both sides of your eyes.

In what seemed like forever, the waiter arrives with your orders, and you both look up and offer him a hand in placing them on your table, bidding him thanks as he once again walks away. 

You and Mingyu both look at your food. 

“I think I’m going first. I have a trial tomorrow, so I need to take care of that.” He says suddenly. 

Nibbling your bottom lip, you watch as he begins to fix his shirt, ready to stand up. 

“Okay.” 

“__?” You look up at him when he calls your name. He seems to hesitate for a bit, but he says, “Can you… can you tell Jungkook I’m sorry?” 

Staring at his face, you try to look for a hint of sarcasm. Or anything indicative of malice. But all you see is sincerity. 

At that, you shake your head. “No.” Mingyu’s face falls. “Talk to him yourself if you really are sorry. I’m not your mailman, Mingyu.” 

He sighs. “Alright. I guess you’re right,” And then, “And I’m saying sorry, to you too, you didn’t deserve that. I was angry, and that’s not an excuse. So, I’m sorry. Will you…” he clears his throat. “Will you ever forgive me?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. Probably.” 

Mingyu gives you a timid smile. “Okay.” 

When he takes out his wallet and a black card from there, you instantly stop him from calling over the waiter. 

“No, it’s fine, I’ll take care of it. I’m the one who invited you here.” You say, talking him out of paying. 

He shakes his head, insisting, “It’s okay.”

“Seriously, I can handle it.” 

Mingyu lets out a chuckle which makes you smile a bit before you scold yourself. 

“I know. But can you let me? This is… this is probably the last time we’ll see each other.” 

At that, you relax back in your seat, staring at him. He stares right back at you. 

With a slow nod, you let him call over the waiter.

He departs with a small goodbye that you return with a timid wave. 

When you go home that night, you cried yourself to sleep, thankful that Jungkook hasn’t come home from his shift yet.

Things are… fine. 

Unlike your previous break-ups that left you in agony for the following days after it happened, the one with Mingyu did not really leave a huge emotional impact. It makes you wonder if you’ve overestimated your feelings for him… makes you question yourself if you really thought he was the one when things were fine, and you both dated happily. 

You don’t bother yourself looking for answers, because the relationship is done and there’s no point in going over the details when it’s you yourself who ended the ties. 

While that is not the sole reason of your melancholic feeling these days, it lies on another person; your roommate, Jungkook – your best friend of eight years who’s apparently been in love with you the whole time. 

It’s only been a few weeks ever since you talked about him moving out. He said it was about time for him to leave the place – he’s been here longer than you, after all. He wrote and sent the notice to his landlord, and it’s been about two weeks since then, so you assume he’s already got his approval. 

While things may look normal and right from an outsider’s perspective… things aren’t exactly the way they were before.

Jungkook and you are close. You share almost everything together. Your friendship has been honed throughout the many years and obstacles you’ve faced together and so it’s only natural for you two to be as close.

But nowadays… you can feel that closeness slipping away. It flares up something inside you; like that feeling of grief when you remember that friend in highschool who you stopped talking to after graduation. You don’t know exactly what the reason is for the abrupt end of communication, but the finish line is there and you’ve both reached it without the other knowing – and you’re left fending for yourselves, looking ahead at your own worlds and letting your lives flow to the stream of the river. 

It’s strange, really; how everything feels somewhat normal but also really under that condition. 

Jungkook and you would text each other nonstop – he could be in his own room, and he’d still text you about random shit that ends up with him going to your room anyway just to annoy you for a bit before you kick him out and you both go to sleep. He’d ask to borrow something – anything, ask your food preference for the night, and he’d always ask you when your shift ends so you can go together if your schedules align. Meanwhile, you ask him to join you in the living room for spontaneous movie nights, ask him to give you a massage, and you’d both talk about your days, catching up on the hours you weren’t together.

And now there’s none of that. 

Now, you both greet each other when the other one gets home almost like a chore. Like how your roommate from college used to welcome you when you arrived at the dorm from classes. When either you or he is in the living room or something, you’d both tell each other that “Dinner’s in the fridge, you can microwave it”, instead of “What do you think we should have for dinner?”. Jungkook asks if you need a ride to the hospital because he knows you don’t have a car anymore, but you refuse because it’s obvious it’s just for formality. 

You don’t know if it’s just the overthinker in you, but it feels like Jungkook’s pulling back and he has no intention of making things right – or talk about what happened. 

He’s so… he’s so civil.

And you miss him so much it makes you sad.

It makes you confused. Sort of mad. He makes you feel a lot of things – but you hate that you’ve just been compartmentalizing and not doing any processing at all. 

You spent the past few weeks pointing out to yourself the differences that your relationship is going through. You spend some nights beating yourself up whether to go barge in his room and confront him with everything – but you do none of that. 

Instead, you pretend everything’s okay. At the hospital, you’ve no longer avoided him and said hi which he returns with a smile. Nayeon, Taehyung, and Doyeon, thought at first that everything’s back to normal, but you know they’re slowly realizing that it has not. 

Tonight, though, at Nayeon’s reception party after her wedding, you try hard to ignore all those angsts and choose to enjoy yourself instead. It’s Nayeon’s big day. The last thing you wanted to be was a bum.

Everybody is socializing with each other, and since you’ve had your fair share of conversations with other people at this point, you choose to sit out on the dance.

Suddenly, Billy Joel’s Uptown Girl is playing and the majority coos and exclaims in excitement as they hurry to the dancefloor, some taking their partners along with them.

“Look, they’re playing your favorite song.” 

Your head snaps to the side in reflex to see who it was, only to see Jungkook. Words get caught in your tongue for a moment, a bit surprised to see him. You mean – sure, he’s been here for a while. It is Nayeon’s wedding, after all, but weirdly enough, you two haven’t shared a conversation yet throughout the day. 

Until now, anyway.

Recovering from your initial surprise, you scoot over to the side, giving him space to maybe… sit beside you? 

“That’s not my favorite song.” You scoff, sipping on your champagne right after, looking right ahead as you feel Jungkook situating himself on the chair beside you.

“Oh… has it changed now?” Jungkook says, and there’s a lilt of teasing tone to it that you look at him in wonder. 

Meeting his gaze, you find he’s just smiling at you. He’s in an off-white tux, a lily pinned on his chest pocket. He’s done his hair in that usual way he cleans up for formal events like this, gelled and parted slightly off center to show off his forehead. It’s slightly longer than you’ve last noticed it looked, and you think he hasn’t been trimming it… 

Nonetheless, he looks simply put… dashing. 

“I change my favorite song every five to seven business days,” you say coolly. “Anyway, why aren’t you there?” you point to where the flock of people is having a ball to Billy Joel.

Truthfully, you kind of wish you were there as well. You’ve always danced to that song in your room or in the shower.

“I’m right where I want to be,” Jungkook shrugs. “Why aren’t you there?” 

You lie, “I’m right where I want to be as well.” 

He hums. “You don’t want to show them your moves?” 

You look at him in disbelief, gawking at him. “Are you teasing me?” 

Jungkook widens his eyes, but you know he knows what you’re talking about, and it sounds like he’s trying to keep from laughing when he says, “No. I just happen to know you’re a great dancer.” 

With that, you feel yourself getting carried away by how easily your conversation goes. It makes you think about the old times – where talking to him always made your day because he's funny and he makes you laugh and you make him laugh.

“Fuck off. You know very well I have two left feet.” You chuckle, shaking your head at him.

“Wasn’t the case when you were dancing inside a boiler room during med school at that rave party we went to, but okay.”  

You can’t help but laugh louder, and with that, you jab a lighthearted slap to his bicep without thinking too much of it. 

“I told you that never happened.” 

“Oh…” Jungkook puts down his champagne and cocks his head to the side. “What happened?” 

You giggle. Yes, giggle. Like a schoolgirl. And you watch as Jungkook joins in your laughter, taking the glass close to his face to sip from it. 

Then: “You wanna dance?” Jungkook suddenly says, but he’s looking at the dancefloor. 

“Hm. Dunno. Uptown Girl isn’t exactly rave music.” 

That earns you a chuckle from Jungkook. “But it’s fun music, right?” 

Soon after, he stands up from his seat. You look at him questioningly, but he mirrors it back with an expectant gaze and a raised brow. Seeing you getting apprehensive, he offers his hand and that’s when you roll your eyes, taking his hand as you pretend to stand up against your will and follow him to the crowd.

You chuckle as Jungkook suddenly sways his hips to the upbeat of the song, moving his arms around playfully. You’d like to think he’s doing that intentionally – to make you laugh? Loosen up? Whatever the idea behind it, it’s effective, because you can’t stop laughing as you watch him. 

“Come on, we do this all the time!” Jungkook says over the loud music and people’s candid chattering.

And he’s not wrong because you do have mini parties in the living room of your apartment, pretending like the city before the glass wall across the area is your audience. 

But you two are usually drunk during those moments, and right now, with only one glass of champagne, you’re not near being tipsy. 

“This is so silly!” You exclaim, but you find yourself matching Jungkook’s spontaneous choreography, and it earns you a laugh from him as well. 

“And when she’s walking, she’s looking so fi-i-ne,” Jungkook sings along, gesturing to you. You cover your face because you can’t stop laughing at how he looks – how you two must look – but you’re almost sure nobody’s paying attention because everybody is just having fun on their own. He has a good voice, though – even though he’s trying to act goofy with it. Jungkook doesn’t like when people point it out, or more like, gets shy when you bring it up. 

Suddenly, he steps closer to you and reaches for your hand. Looking at him with confusion, still with that wide grin on your face, he gives you a playful smile before he guides your arm upwards. You utter a sound of a delighted snort, understanding where he’s getting at. With Jungkook guiding you, you do a mildly successful turn that makes you both laugh because as you were just getting back in your original position, you almost trip. Good thing that Jungkook’s there to catch you by the waist, the contact only lasting for a brief second before he lets go to dance on his own again. 

“I wish I was an uptown girl!” You yell over the music.

“You’re kinda an uptown girl if you think about it.” Jungkook responds, nodding his head as if he believes that. 

You chuckle, shaking your head at him. “No.” 

“Yes, you are. You’re sophisticated and elegant.”

“Well, this—” you point between your bodies, “– is not very sophisticated and elegant of me.” 

“Touché.” Jungkook laughs.

“But will you be my downtown man?” You say, not really thinking too much about it but then you suddenly realize what you just said and you’re about to add something to it – like putting a disclaimer that it was just a joke. 

But then Jungkook leans closer, ducks down to level with your ear. “I can be if you want me to.” 

The song ends and you barely had time to process what just happened before the soft piano progression of Carole King’s Will You Love Me Tomorrow begins to play. 

You hear the collective “Aww”s from the audience and you watch as everybody suddenly pairs up with someone else. As the first lyric of the song is sung, you can feel the upbeat energy from earlier dropping to a calmer atmosphere. Romantic, you’d say it is.

When you look at Jungkook again, he has a small smile on his face. It’s as gentle as the piano behind the song. 

“Can I?” He says. 

You nibble on your bottom lip. “You want to?”

Jungkook only nods, still smiling.

“Only if you want to as well.” 

You look around again. It’s not hard to spot Taehyung from afar on the dancefloor as well, with a gorgeous Hyerin in his arms. He doesn’t seem to notice you looking, though, but you watch the way he ducks down to whisper something in her ear, prompting a laugh from her. 

Putting your gaze back to Jungkook, you blink as you say, “It’s… okay, I guess.” 

“Okay?” Jungkook clarifies. You nod your head and he smiles that dashing smile again before he steps closer to you.

Slowly, he puts a hand around your waist. And you know he did it awhile ago, but the contact ended so briefly that you didn’t really have the chance to… somehow… savor it, maybe? But right now, as you fumble with your own hand, deciding whether or not you should put a hand on his waist as well, the proximity makes your breath hitch. 

Your heart beats abnormally fast against your ribcage, and usually, it’s not hard to stare Jungkook in the face – but you find it a difficult task to do nowadays. 

Jungkook, unsuspecting of your inner dilemma, only seems to notice your confusion with your hand placement, chuckling as he guides your wrist to his shoulder. He raises his other arm with yours and interlocks your fingers with his mid-air.

“There,” Jungkook says once you’re in the right position. “Now we look like professional dancers.” 

You wince. “What’s the next step?” 

“You’re taking this very seriously,” Jungkook snorts as he begins to move his feet. 

You try to match his pace, and that distracts you from the fact that you're so close you can smell his cologne very well. 

“Where did you learn this?” You ask instead, quite amazed at how Jungkook is approaching this. It’s not like you’ve never slow danced in your life – but you weren’t kidding when you said you have two left feet. 

“Wikihow.” 

“Wow.” 

“They can be super reliable at times,” Jungkook chuckles as he continues to swing you both gently. “Stop looking down.” 

You groan. “Ugh, no. I’m trying very hard not to not step on you.”

“So what if you step on me? Just relax.” 

Jutting your bottom lip out, you look up at him. “My heels are Louboutin.” 

“Even better.” 

“Stop.” You break away from his hold with your other hand to jab at his chest lightly. Jungkook lets out an “Owe!” but you know it didn’t actually hurt when he just grins down at you, placing his hand on your waist instead so now he’s just… simply holding you.

You ignore the weird feeling in your chest at the action, choosing to keep your hand on his chest. 

“You wanna know something?” You whisper. Jungkook hums. “I didn’t go to prom in highschool.” 

“What? Why?” Jungkook genuinely seems surprised to hear that.

You smile sadly, looking back at the memory bitterly. “Changsub and I were fighting around that time because I saw him at the mall with some girl the previous week. I was so angry that I didn’t care about what I’d be missing out on. My mom tried really hard to get me to attend, but I was very stubborn. Now I still regret not going to prom. My dress was really pretty back then too but I didn't even get to wear it.” 

“Damn,” Jungkook utters. “He really was such a dick to you, huh?” 

“Yeah. But it was still on me, though… I can’t believe I let a boy make me miss out on prom night.” You pout.

Jungkook’s quiet for a while before he abruptly stops his swaying. You look at him in confusion as he lets go of your waist. 

“Well, I don’t have a corsage… but this can maybe do?” He fumbles with his chest first before he takes out the silk lavender handkerchief from his suit’s pocket that matches his tie and the lily on his chest. He looks at you for a while before he takes your wrist in his hand. Your brows knit together as he ties the fabric around your wrist, making sure to finish it up with a ribbon – an attempt at a ribbon, that is. 

You chuckle. “What’s this?” 

Jungkook grins. “You wanna know something too? I didn’t have a date on prom night – was too scared to ask anybody out. I went home after the first hour. Wasn’t really a fond memory. So, prom night definitely sucked for me… what I’m saying is that, it’s not really all that.” 

You duck your head down to laugh, partly to hide the flutter in your heart at his words.

“So, like, is this our – what – our upgraded prom night?” 

Jungkook nods proudly. He takes both your hands as you laugh, wrapping them around his neck, taking you by the waist again. 

This time, you don’t feel like your breath is being taken away.

You feel… serene. The beating of your heart is back to normal. You realize, there’s a sense of comfort that comes from being close to him like this – talking and laughing like good old times. 

You miss him. You miss him so much and you can’t believe you ever considered accepting a life without him in it. 

“The dress looks good on you, by the way,” Jungkook comments, and it sounds so sincere that you can’t help but smile. As if that wasn’t enough to melt your heart, he adds, “And you look really beautiful.” 

“T-thanks,” you stammer, taken aback at the almost intimate way he looks right into your eyes as he said that. You tighten your hold around his neck. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” 

“Thank you.” 

You both chuckle, though there was nothing really funny said in particular.

Carole King’s gentle voice soothes you as Jungkook takes the lead of the dance. You’re not even doing anything other than just going with the flow, letting him take you wherever. There’s a moment when you were sure you stepped on his shoe, but Jungkook’s quick to dismiss you with a hush and saying it was nothing. 

Tonight with words unspoken,

You say that I’m the only one

But will my heart be broken,

When the night meets the morning sun

You scoff as you finally hear the lyrics.

That may have taken a hit on you. 

“This is so stupid.” You say.

Jungkook’s quick to react.

“Rude. I’m literally giving you a prom night from scratch.”

You look at him and you feel bad because he genuinely seems offended at your supposedly throw-away comment.

Shaking your head, you tap his chest lightly. “No, no. I mean– the lyrics. The song.”

Jungkook arches a brow. “I have a video of you crying over this song in your car when it came up on your playlist.” 

“I didn’t cry over this song.” You roll your eyes. 

“Not as much as you did over Silver Springs, anyway.” 

“Oh my god, why do you know so much, Jesus,” you hiss, embarrassed at being confronted by your dramatic antics. “I just meant, why are they playing such a sad song at a wedding? Who approved this?” 

“Eh,” Jungkook shrugs. “Maybe Nayeon’s a Carole King fan.” 

“Is she?” you ask, genuinely curious. If she is, she never told anybody.

“Maybe…?” 

You can’t help but laugh because of how the conversation progressed. Jungkook laughs as well, and he takes the jab you send to his chest with a light hand. They’re really hard, you think, and you don’t know what comes over you as you lean your head down and let your body fall towards him, laying your cheek on the lapel of his suit. It’s warm.

You feel Jungkook stilling in his position at your sudden action, but soon enough, he does nothing to pry you off like you feared for a moment he would, tightening his arms around your waist and swinging you both in that kind of laxed way. 

Shutting your eyes close, you let the soft melody of the song ease your nerves, basking in Jungkook’s presence and his familiar scent. 

You stay like that for a while, and just when the song is coming to an end, you feel Jungkook’s breathe in your ears, his lips almost brushing to the tips of your ears when he says, “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything back then, but I really miss you too.” 

You drank more champagne than you anticipated and it’s why you wobble your way into the bathroom to do some half-ass retouch. Just as when you were putting away your make-up, Nayeon comes out from one of the cubicles. 

“Hey, you gorgeous, gorgeous girl,” She says with a huge smile, now changed into a much simpler dress, in contrast to her voluminous one earlier.

You mirror her grin, opening your arms wide to engulf her in a hug. “Hi to you too. Congrats again on the wedding. I’m so incredibly happy for you. You and Minhyuk are perfect.” 

When Nayeon breaks apart from your hug, she looks at you closely. “I saw you with Jungkook earlier. Lots of people saw you two earlier.” 

“What?” 

“I mean… slow dancing to Will You Love Me Tomorrow in a weirdly intimate way was kind of insane, if you ask me.” 

“Oh, uhm…” you feel blood rushing to your cheeks as you grow embarrassed at the thought of people catching you in that position. You remember after the song ended, you made up some excuse about going to the bathroom to pee and you did – but you pointedly tried to stay out of Jungkook’s sight ever since.

One step forward, three steps back.

“How are you two by the way?” 

“We’re fine.” You say, giving her a reassuring smile. 

Nayeon stares at you for a moment. Then, she sighs. “You’re not, are you?”

“No, we really are. We’re– we’re talking, right?” You point out.

“But… he’s moving out of your place.”

“Well, he needs a change of scenery. He’s been there for four years so he must be tired living there.” 

Nayeon stares at you again and when you look at her face, your heart twinges as you see the disappointment written all over her features. 

“I don’t understand you both, really. You have this… this beautiful thing going on and you’re choosing to ignore that? It’s obvious that you feel something for him, __. Just be honest with him and see where it goes. I know you two are pretending that everything’s fine but you’re both hurting each other and you’re acting like it’s nothing – it’s all just unnecessary angst at this point. What are you two doing?” Nayeon asks. 

“I…”

“Come on, __. Do you really want to let each other go? Do you really want to drift apart? Because it’s been almost a month of pussyfooting. And I don’t know if you’re just expecting that your luck is not gonna run out, but it is going to. And I know you’re going to regret it.” 

You stare at Nayeon while listening to her words. You don’t expect the sharp edges to her voice. You’ve always thought that if someone was going to call you out on your bullshit – it was going to be Doyeon. She’s the bluntest in the group and would not hesitate to tell someone if they’re being a bitch or not – so you don’t expect Nayeon to be like this at all because she’s always been a soft-spoken sweetheart.

It's not like Doyeon hasn’t been harsh, either, though. You had a drink with her and Taehyung a month ago and let’s just say she kind of ranted about you feeling like you’re in a romcom or something. 

She shuts her eyes close, and you can just feel her frustration emanating. “I’m sorry – I know I’m being harsh right now. But I just can’t bear seeing you two like this. I just got married today and I feel like I’m learning and realizing so much right now and one of those is that I’m extremely lucky to have found someone I’m so sure of, and while Minhyuk was saying his vows I looked back at my past relationships and just thought that… that I’m so glad I was finally at that point and… and right now I can’t stop thinking about you two,” Nayeon sighs. “You two love each other so much. Everybody can see it. Why are you both running away from each other? What gives?” 

You look away.

You both do love each other. They are right.

And while you can’t exactly say if what you feel for Jungkook right now bounds in being in love – there’s quite literally only one thing in the world that you’re certain of, and it’s that he’s the most important person to you – the only one you can think of spending a lifetime with and not get sick of it.

And that was something.

But…

“Because it’s scary.” You say, finally.

“What’s scary?”

You inhale a sharo breath.

“For eight years I’ve always thought that we were only platonic. But somewhere in my head I always thought that he was my soulmate, you know? I thought about us ending up together and I remember liking that thought. But years went by, and nothing ever happened and I swear I was happy with Eunwoo but you know what I’m ashamed of all this time that I never told anybody?” Your vision of Nayeon gets blurry as you begin tearing up. “I think… I have been in denial for so long. I think… I think I secretly looked for a part of Jungkook in Eunwoo and I think Eunwoo knew that. I think everybody who I’ve ever been with knew that except for myself. Because I was in denial. Even right now, I’m still in denial. You don’t know how – you don’t know how strange it is to suddenly wake up and realize that you don’t see your friend as a mere friend anymore. You don’t know how hard it is to overthink things – like what if it doesn’t work out and everything falls apart? Our friendship is so important to me, I hold it in the highest regard, and I don’t want anything to ever go against it. But now I’m doing that myself and I just… I hate it. But I don’t know what to do. Jungkook’s moving out just like it seems like he’s moving on and I’m scared that I’m too late to do anything.” 

Your speech leaves Nayeon’s mouth agape, clearly not expecting your outburst. But she recovers quickly. She steps closer in front of you, and in a second, engulfs you in a hug. 

“I’m sorry,” you sniff, making sure to not let your tears fall down her dress. “I think I’ve been keeping that for a long time.”

“It’s okay… I’m glad you said that.” 

“Yeah… I think I’m glad too,” you both chuckle. 

“__?”

You hum.

“Just talk to Jungkook. If you’re worried about him moving out, he’s not. I can tell you that much.” 

You break the hug and look at Nayeon. “Nayeon, he literally has everything packed. I think he’s leaving early in the morning tomorrow.”

Nayeon fixes a strand of stray hairs from your hair framing your face. “Hm. He has?” You nod. “Well, as I said, he’s not leaving. Trust me. But you have to tell him everything that you told me just now. Be honest, __. It feels scary right now but, try to take a leap of faith, okay? This is not some toxic positivity shit or anything like that, but just be honest, alright?” 

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you look at her hesitantly. “Are you… are you sure?” 

Nayeon nods, and she looks so sure of herself that it may have fired up a little bit of hope in you. 

The party is still ongoing, but you decide that it’s time for you to clock out. After you bid your goodbyes to Nayeon and her now husband, to Doyeon and to Taehyung, you head out of the venue to try and book a taxi. You couldn’t find Jungkook earlier at the party, so you decided to send him a text that says you were going home. 

“Need a ride?” 

The ever-familiar voice expectedly appears to be Jungkook when you look at him. 

“Hey,” you greet. “No. I was just about to book an Uber.” 

Jungkook’s brows furrow. You think he looks handsome under the moonlight. “We can ride together in my car. I’m going home as well.”

“N-no, no, ‘s really fine,” you wave your hand, emphasizing your point. 

Jungkook grows more confused. Then: “Are you drunk?” 

You wince, hating that he instantly knows right away. 

“Sorta, kinda…” 

“And you want to Uber?” You pout. You hear him scoff. “There’s no way I’m leaving you alone in this state. Okay, let’s get you to my car.” 

“I’m fine, really,” you say but it sounds whiny even to your ears. 

“You can be stubborn all you want. But in the passenger’s seat.” Jungkook gives you a sharp stare, but his hold on your wrist is gentle as he guides you to the parking lot. 

He wears the seatbelt around your waist and lets you settle on your seat, rounding the car to get behind the wheel right after. You look away. You thought he'd be more... not nice to you since you just left him earlier with a poor excuse.

You feel guilty. So guilty. Jungkook is so... he makes you feel so loved but you're just... so confused. You're so scared it doesn't even make sense.

When he starts the engine, he asks, “Why did you drink so much?” 

It's easy to ignore the heavy thoughts in your head when you're half-asleep at this point.

“I dunno. The champagne was so good… I bet it was probably expensive. I can’t have that much free stuff until –” you stop, as if remembering something, sitting upright. “When is Taehyung’s wedding?” 

“He doesn’t have a wedding, ba—__. He hasn’t proposed to Hyerin yet.” 

You slump in your chair hearing that. 

“Why? They’re so perfect together… they should marry…” You say before dropping back down to your seat again. The AC in Jungkook’s car whirrs softly in your ear, and when you look to the side, you find yourself staring at his side profile.

He’s taken off his white coat, now left with a white shirt and his purple tie. He’s pushed the sleeves up to his forearms, showing the veins all over them.

“Jungkook.” you call him.

“What is it?” He says, momentarily looking at you before focusing back on the road.

“Can I…” you look at his hand. You sniff. “Can I hold your hand?”

Well, he does not expect that at all. But he smiles anyway, taking off one hand on the wheel and reaching for your own hand over the center console. You watch the way his huge palm dwarfs your own, and you almost sigh in relief when he laces his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand as he rests it over his thigh.

The last thing you hear is Jungkook’s soft chuckle before you completely drift off to sleep. 

When you awake, you’re in your room. Seconds after regaining consciousness, you notice the banging in your head – and when you blearily open your eyes, reaching around for your phone, you don’t find it. 

Groaning, you stand up from your bed, realizing you’re now in a shirt and some pajamas. But weirdly enough, you seem to still have your bra on.

You peek through the inside of your shirt and alas, the white lace of your bra from last night’s event welcomes you, and when you stretch the waistband of your shorts to check on your panties, you still adorn the pair of white thong, which means only one thing. 

You haven’t changed completely out of the garments you’ve worn to Nayeon’s wedding and you wonder how it all happened. When you look to the side, your clutch is placed on the nightstand and so you grab it, relieved to find your phone there. 

Shockingly, you read it’s only over 2 am. 

With furrowed brows, you go over to the mirror to check your ensemble. Your face isn’t and doesn't feel as heavy with make-up as it was back at the venue, and you’re definitely dressed down now. 

You remember passing out in Jungkook’s car after he insisted that you ride with him… and everything had been a blur since then. 

Suddenly, an idea goes into your head. 

Did Jungkook… change your clothes and remove your make-up? That’s the only plausible thing that you can consider because you honestly don’t remember ever dressing yourself or going to the bathroom to remove your make-up. And if you did change out of the gown, you would've opted out of your underwear as well. 

Maybe Jungkook did all that. 

And the thought makes you smile. But it drops just as quickly. 

You head towards your door and go straight knocking on Jungkook’s bedroom. 

You don’t expect him to be awake at this point, but when you hear steps coming your way and the doorknob clicking, you stare at Jungkook wide-eyed when he welcomes you with his presence behind the door.

“Hey,” He greets, predictably surprised to see you. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah…” your eyes don’t mean to subtly roam his room. Then that’s when you catch it. The bags lying around his bedroom floor and the neatly piled boxes to the side. Your eyebrows meet each other. “You’re packing?” 

Jungkook nods. “I’m leaving tomorrow, I told you that, didn’t I?” 

“Y-you did, yeah.” You stammer, blinking at him. You suddenly feel like throwing up. “Well, I just came to thank you for…” you trail off, gesturing to your clothes.

Seemingly getting what you mean, Jungkook’s lips curl up into a coy smile. “I hope you don’t mind. I tried to wake you up, but you were complaining about your dress when you were sleeping…”

“Yeah… I’m glad you took it off.” You wince. “That sounds wrong. Anyway, the make-up, too. I have to ask, did I throw up on you?” 

Jungkook laughs, incredulous. “No, no, you didn’t. Are you seriously worried about that?” 

“I just feel bad.” You give him a tight-lipped smile. 

“It’s okay. You should sleep now, it’s late. Do you have a shift tomorrow– or later, actually.” 

“Yeah, I do. But it’s the evening shift. So. You?” 

“I have the morning until three in the afternoon.” 

Nodding, you ask, “Are you leaving at three then? I mean, to your new place?”

“Yeah. Will just pass by here to get some of my stuff.”

You try to look for something on his face. But Jungkook looks casual at best. Now you remember what Nayeon told you. Was she lying when she said you’re going to convince Jungkook not to move out? Because from the looks of it, Jungkook doesn’t seem like anything would budge him from leaving tomorrow. He seems so set on a mission, and you can’t lie and say that it doesn’t break your heart. 

You find yourself thinking about the events at the reception party. How he threw you a quick prom, told you you were beautiful… how he said he missed you. 

Was that all a lie? Just something he said to avoid some sort of dead air? 

Because if he truly misses you, then why would he leave? 

You find yourself getting annoyed. 

“I’ll be back to my room.” You say to get out of the situation. You notice Jungkook getting taken aback by the change of your tone, even more so when you turn on your heels quickly to take the two strides it takes you to your own bedroom. 

In there, you throw yourself on the mattress, the impact affecting you a little bit. You must still be drunk because you feel your vision getting blurry a bit but as you quickly shut and open your eyes, everything goes back to normal. 

You sigh. 

Well, maybe you’re actually meant to be alone and it’s true that you’re not meant for any romantic relationships. You’ll die alone and you’ll just have to deal with the heartbreaks you went through your whole life. 

A stray tear escapes your eye, and you quickly raise the back of your hand to wipe at it. You glare at the wall dividing your and Jungkook’s rooms, finding it annoying that you’re not really mad at him. It’d be so easy if you were mad at him… but you have no reason to.

But why is he so stubborn? Why isn’t he saying anything? Can he just… can it just be him who takes the leap of faith, so you won’t have to? You know that’s unfair, though. It’s juvenile. 

In a burst of courage, you take one pillow from your bed and stomp your way out of your bedroom, finding yourself in front of Jungkook’s room again and knocking. 

He opens it, rightfully surprised to see you again. “H-hey, __, I thought—”

“Can I sleep here?” 

You can see the way his face contorts into confusion. “What?” 

“Can I sleep in your room?” You reiterate, but you’re already forcing your way in. You throw your pillow on his own heap of dark ones, frowning when you see the bags on the floor. “Are you just going to pack forever? You’ve been packing since yesterday.”

Your clipped tone throws Jungkook off a little bit, but he doesn’t point that out, though, when he speaks. “No. I’m actually done now.” 

“Okay? Well, then, let’s sleep.” You say, staring at him. He looks stoned in his position from the edge of the bed, so utterly confused. 

“Are you… still drunk?” 

“What? No.”

“O… kay?” Jungkook looks extra cautious when he seats himself on the mattress by your feet. “Are you sure?” 

“About what?”

“I don’t know. About not being drunk and… sleeping here.” 

“Yeah,” you answer, pointing out the obvious. “Why are you acting like we haven’t had sleepovers before? You used to sleep in my room when there was a spider in your closet.” 

Jungkook makes a face. “It was a huge spider.” 

You roll your eyes, going into a lying position, making sure to leave some space for him on the side. “Jungkook.” 

“Okay, I’m going. So demanding.” 

He playfully clicks his tongue as he lays on the bed as well, sliding his body across the mattress. He doesn’t expect the way you take his arm to spread it on your side of the bed, and you don’t let him say another word when you lay your head on it, keeping your hands close to your chest as you snuggle beside him. 

You could feel there was a moment there that Jungkook stiffened for a bit, but he relaxes just as quickly, feeling him caress your head tentatively as if feeling you out before he goes for it completely. 

“This is what you’re gonna be missing out on when you move out.” you mumble.

You’re grateful when he only says: “Hm?”

“Nothing.” You open your eyes and because of the close proximity, your eyes are at the level of the side view of his chest, and you see the way his thin white shirt clings to his body, rising up and down with his breathing. “I saw your keys earlier. I’m glad you like the Claddagh.” 

Jungkook laughs. “The Claddagh, huh? I knew you knew what that keychain meant,” You frown when you realize you were supposed to pretend you didn’t know that. Oh, well, he figured you out right away, anyway. “I really like it, by the way. It was very thoughtful,” Jungkook says. You can’t see him in your position, but you just know he has a smile on his face. He sounds like it. 

“Thank you. I thought about gifting you a watch… but watches are expensive, so…” You decide to joke, and Jungkook laughs which makes you smile. 

“I would choose the Claddagh any day. I just… I really like it. I interpreted it as a deep sense of belonging and shared history, and I’ve known you for eight years, so that seems very fitting. I’m glad you chose to give me that.” 

It was also a reminder of your relationship. Your love for each other. The loyalty that lies in its foundation, and how you’ve managed to build that over the years. Jungkook’s ultimately your soulmate – that you’re sure of – even though that’s a bit of a cliche and you don’t exactly believe in it entirely. A bit of a conflict, really, since you’re a hopeless romantic. 

But you’ve long known that you and Jungkook are more than just friends. You trust and respect each other beyond words – and it’s more than what you could say about your previous romantic partners. Sure, there was that sense of admiration for one another with your ex-boyfriends, but Jungkook is different. He’s always been different. 

You’ve known that all along – but it’s only now that you decided to read between the lines. 

And you want to tell him that. So badly. But you choose to let the gentle tips of his fingers lull you to that comfortable annexe of warmth, easing you from overwhelming thoughts. 

Has Jungkook always felt like the embodiment of comfort for you? Has he always felt like everything good you can imagine having in your life?

Then, you feel him lean down to the top of your head. “You smell so nice. You aren’t my soulmate after all.” 

That makes you violently crane your neck up to look at him. “What?”

“There was this article that Tae sent to me. It was from Cosmo, I think. It says you’re not supposed to be able to smell your soulmate.” He says, looking so serious that you can’t figure if he’s bullshitting you.

You lean on your elbow so you can look down properly at him, saying, “That’s not even plausible. Since when was Cosmo reliable to you? That’s ridiculous. We literally have four hundred different types of olfactory receptors which help us perceive various smells – I mean, unless you’ve damaged them somehow, or there’s a disruption in your signal transduction, or you’re anosmic – which I know you’re not – then I don’t think that’s true.” 

Jungkook laughs and you can’t help but frown. 

“It made sense, okay? If you ignore the science stuff.”

“You’re a doctor.” You quickly counter.

He rolls his eyes. “I mean, for the record, I believe in the existence of extraterrestrial life, so that’s that.”

“Ugh,” you flop down on the bed again, falling back on Jungkook’s body. He scoots closer to hold you close against him, which you welcome casually. You don’t even know how you got this comfortable, but you’re glad either way. He feels so big and warm. “Are you going to show me that Youtube video of top ten UFO sightings around the world again?” 

“You don’t think that Nebraska one looked very real?” Jungkook says with disbelief.

“No,” you turn to Jungkook only to find him already looking at you. “They were college boys, Jungkook. They probably just turned nineteen or something. Have you seen their eyes in the video? It was pixelated as hell, but if I were that high—”

Jungkook suddenly snorts, effectively cutting you off. “Ohh, if you were that high?”

You jab at his chest which only makes him laugh louder. 

“I tried my first weed with you.” You pout.

Jungkook catches the stray hair that falls from behind your ear and hides it back there again as he says, “You coughed nonstop and had a sore-throat the next day. You have baby lungs.” 

You roll your eyes and go back to lying on his arm. “Whatever. All of that still doesn’t justify that we’re not soulmates.” 

“The concept of soulmates doesn’t even have a scientific explanation.” Jungkook chuckles. 

“No…? But there's psychological research about it; the attachment theory, look it up.” 

“There’s also cognitive dissonance.” Jungkook pitches in. 

“That’s so mean!” You gasp, but you know Jungkook’s only teasing when you see that he’s got that huge stupid grin on his face.

He apologizes in between his laughter, squeezing your waist a bit before he says, “Okay, okay. But what if you’re my soulmate, but I’m not yours?” 

“That’s not how soulmate-ism works. Isn’t it nice to think that there’s like a system to it? Like if you’re my soulmate, then that would automatically make me your soulmate. It doesn’t make sense otherwise.” Your eyebrows knit together as you explain.

“I guess you’re right…” Then you hear him letting out a loud sigh. “For what it's worth, I think I’d be really happy if I was your soulmate.”

You smile against his pec after he says the words. 

You like Jeon Jungkook. You like him so much it’s starting to feel unbearable.

There’s silence that hangs in the air for some time before you look up at Jungkook alarmingly. “Kook.” He doesn’t say anything. You lean on your elbow again to peer down at him, only to see that he’s now closed his eyes. “Jungkook.” 

Finally, he stirs. But his eyes are still closed. “Hm?”

“Don’t sleep yet.” 

“Uh-huh.” He gives your waist a brief squeeze again.

“I’m watching you.” 

He chuckles. “What is it?” 

“Let’s talk more.” 

“How are you still not sleepy?” 

“Because…” you drop your head down to his chest this time. “I want to know if you could ever —” you shrug, staring at his ceiling. “—cannibalize someone.”

“I like this. Conversation’s getting raunchy,” You hear him snorting through his breath. “Is this your pillowtalk?” 

“Yes.” 

“In that case, that’s an interesting question. I have never really thought about that.”  

“Really? Never?” 

“I’ve never been in any situation where I had to think about that, thank god.”

You laugh together. “Okay, but if you really had to, would you?” 

“I don’t know… I’m a huge germaphobe, you know that. But I guess humans inherently have indomitable spirits and that conditions us to do whatever it takes to ensure our survival under extreme conditions. I don’t think I’m beyond that.”   

You nod against his chest. Mindlessly, you start tracing random lines over his shirt, and you wait for Jungkook to pry your hand off or say something to stop you or ask you what you’re doing, but he doesn’t really say anything. 

“It’s fascinating, right? The way we can just alter our brains and mindsets when we’re put under certain conditions. It’s amazing and weird at the same time how we work psychologically.” 

“Exactly.” You feel Jungkook nodding. 

“This is– of course this is not an extreme condition where I have to cannibalize someone,” you chuckle, which earns the same thing from Jungkook. You continue, “but you know when you’re experiencing a heartbreak and you think it’s the end of the world but then you wake up one day and suddenly you’re fine? 

When Jungkook turns quiet, you know you’ve touched on a subject that feels personal. 

You sigh. “I broke up with Mingyu awhile ago.” 

“Oh.”

You hum. “Yeah… like a month ago?”

“Ah. I had a hunch.”

“But you didn’t ask,” you smile. “Well, anyway I just want you to know.” 

Silence.

Then, “Do you feel… do you feel sad about it?” 

“That’s what’s weird,” you say. “Because I don’t necessarily feel sad about the break-up, or the relationship. But it’s more like – the thought of breaking up with somebody again.” You chuckle, but there’s no humor to it. “I feel like you can only take so many break-ups in your life before you completely give up on love, you know? And it’s like… I don’t even get it… I mean, I’m decent, aren’t I? I can hold up a conversation, I make sense, I have a good job, and I don’t look bad – although, maybe that’s what’s wrong all along?” You swallow the lump in your throat. “Am I ugly?” 

“Hey,” Jungkook calls, and you feel him rising from his lying position just as you feel tears slowly streaming down your face. 

You scold yourself for it – because what the hell even is this about? Just earlier you were talking about cannibalism and now you’re tearing up. Your emotions are all over the place, and it doesn’t help that Jungkook’s quick to dote on you, guiding your back as you both sit on the bed instead.

You inhale a sharp breath. “Look at me, I’m a mess,” you look at him through blurry eyes, hoping to look apologetic at the very least for barging in his room at fuckass o’clock and disturbing his packing and not noticing that he’s been in love with you for the past eight years. God, you want to say sorry for a lot of things. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying, it’s not that deep.” 

“If it’s bothering you then it’s a big deal. And I’m looking right at you,” Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulders as he looks you in the eyes. “I’m looking at you and you’re beautiful, you’re intelligent, and you’re the funniest person on Earth I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I’m so glad I met you.” 

“Well… do you still feel that way when I only ever seem to come to you when I wanna vent or cry?” You ask, attempting to joke, but your voice breaks at the end.

It cracks a smile on Jungkook’s face though. “That’s not true at all. You also come to annoy me.” 

Your laughter turns into a sob and that’s when Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you close to his side, letting your head fall to his bicep and resting his chin on top of yours. It’s a barely-there gesture, but you’re pretty sure you feel him kiss the crown of your head. 

“I know… I know we still have a lot to talk about, __. That we’re glossing over the important things. But I want to say sorry. I never said sorry about what happened back at the resort. For Mingyu. For doing what we did. I never said sorry about bombarding you with all those things and for taking so long to talk to you just because I was scared. But right now, I’m saying sorry. I have been completely unfair to you all this time.” 

You quickly get out of his hold to look up at him. “No, you—” 

“Just…” Jungkook cuts you off. “Just let me, okay? I know you’re gonna say none if it was my fault but you’re right about what you said. You’re right about doubting my feelings for you.” 

“Jungkook…”

He nods. “I was in denial for the most part about my feelings for you. Ever since that thing happened with Jiyeon in college, I found it hard to trust somebody again. I slept around in my last year of college because it made me feel good about myself, made me think I was desirable and that someone cheating on me doesn’t mean shit when I had all those women who willingly slept with me. I was like that during my first year in med school, too. Couldn't really get serious with somebody because – because what if they do the same thing again?” Jungkook smiles bitterly. “And then… I met you. It started out as a crush and I was so sure it wasn’t going to be more than that, but then, we were in almost the same classes and we became friends,” Jungkook looks at you fondly and you almost melt in his arms. “And then I found myself liking you, and then I fell hard – really fucking hard,” he chuckles to himself. “It was during spring break of second year when I realized I was fucked and that I was in love with my best friend.” 

“S-spring break?” You whisper, not sure what he meant. 

“You don’t remember it?” Jungkook asks. He looks over your face and suddenly he’s caressing your cheek with his fingers. He swipes his thumb over it, wiping a stray tear away. He smiles before he says, “I caught the flu that time. I called you, but you were over at your parents. Then the next day I woke up and you were at my place telling me to take care of my health because how can I study medicine when my immune system is shit.”

“Oh, that…” you trail off. Suddenly, the fragments of that time become clear to you. The flu wasn’t that bad, only took him three days to fully recover.

“Yeah. But then that was also the time when you told me Eunwoo asked you to be his girlfriend and that you said yes.” 

You inhale a shaky breath.

“I– I tried to forget about my feelings, because I didn’t want to harbor all those feelings for you when you already had a boyfriend. I went to all those dates in the hopes that I could feel something from someone. I tried to date Sora. It was good. It was a good partnership. But then… Eunwoo proposed, and I don’t know – I guess I deluded myself so bad that I have fully moved on from you since then – but then I was faced with the reality that you were going to spend your life with somebody else and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I was so bad at handling my emotions. So stupid. Sora broke up with me because she figured I love you.” 

You stare at him with your mouth agape. You would've never guessed why they broke up. You always thought they were so perfect for each other… 

“And yeah, the break-up with Eunwoo happened and it took you two years to heal. I didn’t want to make a move because I simply didn’t want to be that kind of guy who takes advantage of a woman’s vulnerability after a break-up, you know? And we moved in together two years ago and…” You wait as he trails off. “I guess I just got comfortable with our set-up.” 

“How do you mean?”

“It was like, everything I imagined us to be. Living together, sharing everything together. I thought no one could take that away from me, even if I didn’t ask you out. I’m not telling you to believe it, but I wasn’t with a lot of women for the past two years… yeah, sure, I dated them very briefly, but it was out of genuine attempt to find somebody for myself because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship by confessing. Being your best friend was and still is more important to me than being your boyfriend. I couldn’t care less how I can have you; I want you in any way – and if that meant being your platonic friend the rest of our time, then I was that. I am that. Even now.”

You can’t find your words. You’ve imagined your talk countless times in your head, but they all fell short to give you a taste of what the real thing would be like. 

“So… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for keeping my feelings for nearly eight years. I’m sorry I kept something important to you about Mingyu. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. Just… I apologize. I feel like I broke your trust.” 

It’s quiet for a while before you break the silence.

“Jungkook,” You call him. He meets your gaze. It’s soft and it’s sweet and you realize he’s always looked at you like that. How could you have not noticed? “You’re very important to me.” 

“I’m glad.” He smiles. A small one that makes him look all boyish. The urge to keep him in your pocket even though he’s much bigger than you becomes huge.

“And I want you in any way, too.” You say, staring intently at him. 

You watch as Jungkook stares back at you. There’s an agonizing stretch of seconds when you see his eyes darting down from your eyes to your lips, and you don’t mean to bite the bottom one, suddenly feeling the thick tension rising in the air.

“Can I hug you?” You swallow the lump in your throat. 

“I would really love that.” 

You don’t know how it happens, but the last thing you see is Jungkook’s wall clock pointing to 3:15 am before you let your eyes rest.

[ READ BELOW ]

this chapter is not over yet! tumblr has a 1k paragraph/block limit in a single post and so i can't put the whole thing in this. please look thru the reblogs to read the last scene of the chapter and the EPILOGUE or click on this [ link ]

[sapphiressmoke]

Outlander I

Summary: She doesn’t know how it happened but they were calling to her to come closer. Touching it was never suppose to uproot her life and transport her somewhere she never thought she could see and witness. She has to try her best to survive if she wants to get back, right?

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen X Modern!Reader.

Warnings: Nothing as of now but angst, romance, smut

Word Count: 2.6K

Next Part

2024 AC Kings Landing

So this was the magical Kings Landing? Once the vast and lively city was now a place of desolation, solitude and history. It had been like this ever since the burning in 305 A.C between two Queens. You read about how it was a horrible event, many innocent people lost their lives… Even the two Queens. Since that moment, no more Targaryens roamed Westeros. It was now a place of history and learning. Most teachers brought their students here to see what they were being taught. Some parents dragged their kids here to learn of their heritage.

You were here for the first reason.

Being in your second year of Vale University, you were studying History and Literature. What were you going to with that degree? You have no idea but at least you were enjoying yourself… For the most part. “The Red Keep took many years to complete. Three reigns to be exact. What started on Aegon’s High Hill names Aegonfort. King Aegon the First used this fort as his seat during the conquest, housing the impeccable Iron Throne. Though it was destroyed in the battle of Kings Landing, paintings portrayed this throne as huge and intimidating.” Your group followed your professor as she guided everyone at the base of what the humongous Keep used to be. You looked around, red brick scattered over the floor. You mind raced as you thought of how these bricks were over 2000 years old, millions of people have touched them and now they were scattered all over the dirt floor. “It isn’t said when but at some point after the Conquest, the King ordered the destruction of the Fort and the construction of the Red Keep began. It was said that Aegon requested the castle be built with red rock to remind people of the fire he roasted and the blood he shed of his enemies, so whenever King’s Landing looked up they’d see the price of defiance.”

Your professor continued to talk but the sound of nature around you drowned it out. The sound of buzzing getting louder in your ear, getting louder and louder. “Ugh! You don’t hear that?” You brought your finger to your ears and tried wiggling it around to see if there was anything there.

“Hear what?” Your friend, Talia, said as she leaned in.

“That stupid buzzing sound. It won’t stop.” You groaned as you continued with your ear.

Your friend gave you a weird look. “I just think you’re going crazy. There is nothing.”

The buzzing softened and turned into a soft whisper, softer than wind. “Y/N… Darling… Y/N.”

You whipped your head back, trying to find the source of the noise. “Please told me heard that!” Before Talia could respond, your professor spoke faster. “Is there something you would like to add, Miss Y/N?”

Your face went beat red from embarrassment. “No ma’am… Sorry.” You said sheepishly.

“Thank you. Now where was I? Ah yes. The start of the fall of the Targaryens, it started when…” You started to zone out and looked back behind you, trying to figure out where the whisper came from. From the bottom of the hill, you spotted a man sporting an eyepatch, long silver hair and cladded in leather. He had his arm extended out towards you, as if he was waiting for you to come and grab it, calling you to run away with him but just as fast as you spotted him, he disappeared.

You felt your arm being grabbed and a hand stroke your upper arm. You turned towards Talia, who wore a worried look. “Is everything okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You shook your head and ran a hand through your hair. “Yea… Yes. I’m good.” You grasped her hand that was on your upper arm. “Let’s just get this tour over with. It’s giving me the heebie jeebies.”

“You got that right.” She agreed. “But I heard that the Kingswood, which is just behind the hotel, is just as creepy. Maybe even haunted!”

128 AC Kings Landing

“Mother, please tell me I do not need to go to this hunt. There are better things I can do with my time.” The One-Eyed Prince has been trying for days to stay at the Keep, not wanting to waste a morning travelling to the Kingswood just for a hunt that he did not want to participate in.

The Queen sighed at her son, pushing a silver strand away from his stoic face. “Aemond… ‘Tis for Jaehaerys and Jaehaeras name day. Your brother wants to do a grand celebration for them. Especially for Jaehaerys.”

He rolled his one eye. “We all know that it’s an excuse for him to drink away… With reason this time.” He looked up at his mother. “Will father be coming?”

“The Maesters will assess The Kings health before letting us know but I do doubt that he will be able to join with the amount of pain he has been in.” The Queen replied. It has been no secret that The Kings has been declining the past couple of years. Decaying flesh, rotting teeth and constant pain. Drunk day in and out on milk of the poppy.

“If he does not go…” He tried to think of a reason to stay but was stump. “If he does not go then I shall stay here and watch over him.” Lies.

Alice by let out a chuckle. “You are quite the convincing liar, Aemond, but the Maesters will be here to aid your father in anything.” She walked away from her son and looked at the window, looking upon the people of Kings Landing. “I know you would much rather be here, reading in the library and training outside but it will do you some good to be away for a bit. Breath the good air of Kingswood.” She turned around to face her third child. “Plus, Ser Criston Cole shall be joining us if you ever do need to scratch the intense to train.”

Aemond rubbed his face and groaned. “I guess you are right, mother. But I will not ride with Aegon in the carriage. He’s an imbecile and will most likely throw up from all of the wine he has drank.”

“Thank you.” Alicent smiled. “You may ride with with me and Ser Criston. Halaena will be with the children and nurse while Aegon rides with Ser Arryk and Erryk as it seems they are the only ones that can deal with his shenanigans.”

“As I mentioned before… Imbecile.”

The night passed swiftly and once the sun started to rise and was on the horizon line, the Royal Family begun their travels to the Kingswood. Even though Aemond was never a talkative person, worsening after the incident with his eye, he seemed even more lost in his thoughts than usual. He stared out the window, sitting across from his mother who watched him intensely. “What is on your mind, sweet son?”

Aemond continued to look outside the window but sighed. “I had this weird dream. Was just flashes of images. Nothing clear. There was this woman… She seemed lost, searching for help. It sounded like she was calling out to me but the way she dressed did not seem normal.”

The Queen stayed silent for a moment before speaking. “Are you a Dragon Dreamer now?” She joked, causing a small smile to break on the princes face. “Dreams have many meanings. Perhaps it’s just a bad dream from the stress you put on yourself. Free your mind for the next couple of days. Perhaps even participate in the hunt.”

The hunt that went on in the Kingswoods happened every couple of years, usually to celebrate a names day for a royal child. The White Hart was usually the main goal of the hunt but any animal was game. “And if I were to meet the White Hart, would that not be a sign that I should be the King over my buffoon of a brother?” It was quite well known that Aegon did not desire to be King, fought against everything Even fighting with his Grand Father and Mother saying that it was his Half Sisters birthright but all of his complaints were going to a deaf ear. Aemond wished to rule. He was fit to rule and it was simple: he rode the largest dragon in all of Westeros, he excelled in combat and studied on the history and politics of his family and of Westeros but it would not go to him unless everyone in front of him died.

This was a conversation he had with his mother too often but his question was answered with silence. That was how the rest of the carriage ride went. Silence. The dream kept replaying over and over in his mind. Who was this girl? What was she doing? Who was she to him?

Within the next couple of hours, Lords and Ladies and the Royals arrived in Kingswood. The air still cold with the mornings breath. Everything was set up for them to place clothing, tables… Everything. The children were running about, screaming playfully with each other. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera came running towards Aemond, crashing into his legs. “Hi Uncle Aemond!” They squealed.

He looked down at his niece and nephew, rubbing the back of their heads before pushing them back on their way. “Hello you two.”

“Time travels back and is protected by the White King.” Helaena whispered into the cold air of the morning, staring at Aemond from across the way.

Aemond looked up to make eye contact with Halaena, seeing her lips move but not making out what she had said. He cocked his head to the side, deciding to walk towards his sister to see what she had said. She didn’t seem to realize that Aemond was by her side before he squeezed her hand. “What was that, good sister?” Helaena looked up at him and gave him a small smile. “Only Time can tell you… Only Time.”

The rest of day went on eventfully. The men prepared for the hunt while the women gossiped as they ate cake. Of course Alicent chose not to participate in the gossip. She could not bother to hear anymore about Rhaenyra, her bastard sons and how great they are. She decided to watch her grand-children run about. Aegon was nowhere to be found, most likely already drunk in his tent, Helaena chose to rest in her tent as the carriage ride took a lot out of her and Aemond sat with Criston Cole as they sharpened their swords, getting ready for the hunt. She stared around her and for a slight moment, she would think her life was perfect. She had her children and her grand-children around her but then she remembers that she is practically ruling the Seven Kingdoms, her husband was dying and she was alone in the world.

2024 AC Kingswood

You slipped on your black slip dress, continuing to argue with your friend in the hotel room. “You don’t get it, Talia! There is something calling to me out there. I’m not insane. I’m not crazy. It’s been going on ever since we entered Kings Landing.” The buzzing was constant, the whispering was constant and the flashes of that man were at every corner.

Talia sat on the bed, her eyes following you as you continued to pace around the room. “I’m not saying you’re crazy but you sound crazy, Y/N. A silver haired man with only one eye? Listen to yourself!”

You groaned and you pulled yourself into a ball. “I know what I sound like!” You stood back up and waved your arms around. “But this… This place is weird. There has been so many deaths and apparently fucking magic. There is something going on.” You grabbed your black shawl from your luggage and pulled in over your shoulders. “And I am going to figure it out.” You pointed to the woods. “I’m going to go in those stupid woods and try to find something. I don’t what I will try to find but I will know what it is when I see it.”

Your friend gave you a shocked look, standing up quickly and grabbed your arm. “Okay now I’m saying that you are crazy! There’s boars… Bears in those woods! You could die! What would your mom do if you die?”

You ripped your arm from her grasp. “Well she always knew I would die in a stupid way. Tell her I love her. And before you ask, no you can’t come. You’ll be the person to let the teacher know that I’m gone. If I’m not back before the next tour tomorrow morning, you can go all out and tell everyone I’m missing. Okay?”

You saw the perplexed look she wore in her face before answering. “Fine. Fine! If you die… Ugh!”

You put on your pair of shoes, grabbed your flashlight and placed it your bag before heading out. You stood in front of the forest and sighed, were you really this stupid? Yes, yes you were. You took one last look at the hotel before you made your way into the dark, insect infected forest… Gods you were dumb.

It had already been a few hours at this point, you were tired, you were hungry and you still had no idea what you were looking for. You kept hearing animal noises surrounding you and you were terrified. What if a wild boar chased you or a bear mauled you to death? What if you died of dehydration. How many days does it take to die or dehydration or hunger?

Suddenly the aura around you shifted and the whispering begun again. ‘You’re so close, Y/N. Continue.’ It was a man’s voice. It was so clear. ‘Continue straight, My Love, we’ll be together soon.’ The buzzing began and it only got louder as you continued walking straight. The further you walked, the higher the grass got. It was tickling your calves. It was as if a flash of light opened your eyes when all of the sudden a bunch of tall stones stood tall in front of you, being illuminated by the direct moonlight. The aura surrounding it was calling to you to come closer. “This is what I’ve been looking for.” You beamed with excitement.

The buzzing only got louder as you approached the Stones. The high grass tickled your calves, leaving tiny water droplets on your skin. The buzzing sounded as if it was whispering your name, soft as wind. “Y/N… Y/N…”. It only drew you closer.

The Stones had this silver and golden aura surrounding it. Were you the only one that could sense it? Were you the only one that could hear it? See it? Your thoughts were racing as you stood in front of the tall Stone. You raised your right hand to touch it, as if that was what it was telling you to do. The only thing you could do. For a moment you hesitated, wondering what you were doing, why were you here but it just kept calling out. “Y/N… Y/N…”

You let out a long breath and pressed your palm flat against the rough texture. Within the moment, all sound seized to exist around her, life was dark and as soon as it disappeared, everything reappeared.

128 AC Kingswood

You blinked your eyes fast, letting out a shaky breath. You stumbled backwards and the world wasn’t as you just saw. There were more trees surrounding you. The woods seemed to be more lively than before. “Oh Gods, what did I do.”

From back at the camp, Helaena felt the shift in the air. “Welcome home, Time.” Helaena smiled.

———————————————

SOOO what do we think? It’s only getting started and I’m so excited to see where this goes.

[mandukkul]

LOVE BETWEEN TWO — n.rk

synopsis: you and riki have different ways of seeing love but, in the end, you'll always know who you'll end up with.

or

moments building up before the first i love you

tags: childhood friends to lovers, non!idollau, neighbour!riki x f! reader, FLUFF!!!, only fluff and comfort :)

warning: proofread but might have some spelling + grammar errors

wordcount: 4.5k

published: 3rd october, 2024

authors note: this oneshot acts as a thankyou for all the followers and love i get!! i’m so sorry for not being more active :( BUT i completed this! and i just want to say THANK YOU FOR 1000!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU WHOLE!!! as much as riki loves you! and as much as we love riki :)

reblogs + comments appreciated

Act 1: loving 

Riki had never understood love – that is, until he met you. He knew he loved many things, like dance, and his family and friends, but if you had asked him if he knew what love meant, he would have buffered like a 2000s-era computer. Of course, Riki knew what love was; he had watched it in K-dramas and had seen it rendered in manga. By their definition, love was hard. Love was hard and difficult and full of miscommunication, but also, love was soft and kind and offered the sweetest touches to one's heart that anyone could ask for.

Love was everything, and nothing, all at the same time.

He then concluded, after the piles of pirated manga and dramas he had accumulated over his 17 years of boyhood, that love was simply you. He didn’t need to be a genius to understand that; he knew if it wasn’t you, then no one was going to fit that definition of love for him. Riki didn’t fully understand love, but he understood you – how he felt about you. You, in all your beautiful glory. Love was your touch, your smile, your laugh. Love was what he looked forward to every day.

You were truly the only exception to his dilemma of love, because with you, love came so easily. Love was just like breathing – it was so effortless when it came to you. Love for you felt like rain kissing his cheeks in humid summers, like snow tickling his nose during winter, like an autumn leaf falling on his head in the fall, like cherry blossoms blooming when spring arrived.

Love for you felt like nature, like it was natural. He was sure he had been born to love you, inside and out. From the moment he had met you at the age of 4, when you were dressed in stained patchwork overalls, obviously from playing in the dirt; your hair tied in uneven pigtails because you had just had to tie them yourself. Your hands clasped some wilted old flowers he had passed while walking Bisco; you had offered them to him as a greeting gift with that cute little grin of yours.

“Hello! Want to be my best friend?”

Four-year-old Riki didn’t know it just yet, though he did have an inkling, but he would be head over heels for the girl in front of him for the rest of his life.

He had stared at the flowers in your hand, weak and slouchy in posture. He looked back up at you and didn’t have the heart to tell you that those flowers were the exact ones Bisco had decided to relieve herself on. So, he took those piss-stained flowers and nodded his head with as much agreement as his little body could give.

At the ripe age of 18, as he watched you from across his window, peering into your room, where you haphazardly flopped onto your bed with exhaustion despite only hanging out in his room all day. He could just tell you had screamed into your bed by the way you flailed around at the edge. He watched you suddenly stop, as if you had run out of battery, flip over to your back, and lay still for a while longer.

He loved you.

You could sense him staring at you, with your strangely acquired Riki-sense. You lifted your head to confirm your theory, and there he was, leaning against the window frame staring into your room. His eyes lay still on the object that was yourself, and he was filled with so much adoration, so much love, so much bliss at even the sight of you.

And yet, you scoffed at his blatant staring, feeling his chocolate-brown eyes peer into your soul like the Ghost Rider from the movies. Of course, he had that stupid love-stricken look, and of course, he was already waiting for you to stare back.

Love for you had meant many things – too many things to quite pinpoint the right meaning. As you grew up, you learnt more about love than loss, and hence, you learnt that love hurts.

Love was like the humidity in summer, where the air was too thick, and the wind stuck to your skin; love was like the dullness of autumn, where the wind was cold and brisk but not enough to complain about – just enough to be irritable; love was like winter, where it got so cold you couldn’t even feel your face anymore, the season of sickness and disease that forced you to remain indoors and watch the sky cry frozen tears; love was like spring, when hay fever was at its worst, staining your cheeks with unintentional tears and a stuffy nose.

Love was hard. Love was difficult. Love was confusing.

You remembered every single time something you had loved got lost. The very first time was when the friendship bracelet Riki had made you when you were 5, decorated with mismatched charms and trinkets, disappeared one day when you went to the park. The nights you had spent crying didn’t outweigh the nights 5-year-old Riki had spent consoling and reassuring you that he’d make another one – a better one. But 5-year-old you knew the sentiment that was put into that very first bracelet, the one made without obligation to be replaced.

You remembered wailing about how it wouldn’t be the same, that Riki would have the very first bracelet, and you’d have a stupid second version because you had been careless. Then, you remembered the sound of beads crashing onto the ground, scattering anywhere and everywhere. You were scared you’d slip and crash despite being a giant compared to a measly bead.

“Now I’ll make two new ones so we’ll both be the same again.”

You couldn’t recall a more romantic and pleasant memory, where Riki had been so genuine and cute, so willing to give up something that was his to meet your happiness.

Five-year-old Riki really had you wrapped around his finger from that day on.

Despite your own volition, your heart bloomed and blistered, so full of him. It beat to the spelling of his name (in Morse code), and you couldn’t help but pull the threatening smile down into the scowl you attempted to display.

Like clockwork, your eyes locked with the same amount of love and willingness that you gave yourself credit for. You crawled towards your window and lifted it open so you could talk to him again as if the past 12 hours hadn’t occurred.

He was waiting for you, gazing like the stars had blessed his presence – graced his very being with the holiness that was you.

You had to force yourself to calm the oh-so-obvious flush of your cheeks, putting it down to hike up to your room as the reason for your sudden flare-up.

“Aren’t you tired of looking at me all day?” you remarked, and he was so quick with his reply, “I could never get tired of looking at you.”

Him and his flirty personality. You didn’t remember where he had gotten it from, or how he had developed it. You’d grown up with him all your life, and that part of his personality was still an anomaly.

You let a scoff out, rolling your eyes and folding your arms, blatantly ignoring the ache in your cheeks that you refused to surrender to his love.

“It’s not like I’ll disappear if you blink, relax,” but Riki had never been more relaxed than when he was looking at you. Not just the plain stares he gave during his maths classes, or at the dinner table, or even when he stared at his home screen that was so obnoxiously filled with you, but the type that showed interest, that showed he was immersed, devoured, totally consumed by whatever had his attention.

He liked to think he had found the perfect balance of clinginess and distance but still unknowingly leaned towards pulling you in.

“Most girls would love it if I stared at them,” he had said.

He was right. Nearly every girl at school would have sold an arm and a leg just for the boy to even look in their direction. If you weren’t you, you would have cherished and felt blessed to even have the Nishimura Riki in your presence.

But you were you, and you had grown up with this annoying brat all your life. Even if he could be sweet and sensitive at times, or when he tried to show you he was more man than boy, he was still Riki: your first friend, your best friend, and your first love.

Besides, someone had to keep his beautiful ass humbled, or else he would have resorted to those once-targeted alpha male Andrew Tate ads.

“To be honest, I find it a bit creepy,” you had snickered to yourself as he pouted at your response.

Those cute lips of his.

You had always known how to bring his rising ego down, one way or another.

With your smart and witty remarks, you anchored him just enough so he didn’t fly away and drift into the realm of egoism.

He couldn’t get enough of you.

“Fine. I’ll stop looking at you,” he had declared, but his eyes betrayed his words, and his gaze never, not once, pulled away. He had one eye open now, tilting his head away but still, ever so slightly, gazing upon the beauty that you emitted.

And you were still looking. Of course, you were; of course, you would.

You never took your eyes off him because he was just so cute, and his attempt to one-up you in snark was quite endearing.

“Good luck with that,” you had laughed, leaning onto your palm as you watched him sigh in defeat, but not before he caught your own gaze on him.

“Oooh, why are you looking at me like that?” he had prompted, leaning over his window to be closer to you. “Do you think I’m cute?” he wriggled his eyebrows ever so playfully, that shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

“No,” you had deadpanned, dropping your palm down to the frame. He pouted again, more pouty than usual, pulling a frown.

He whined with one of those annoying squeals, something you had grown used to over the years of knowing him. “My girlfriends are so mean to me,” he had said, frowning with his eyebrows pinching and lips pouting. You couldn’t help the small pull of your lips, seeing how comical he was being.

For a split second, you had lingered on his words. “My girlfriend,” he had said with so much pride. “My girlfriend” was all you really heard because he was calling you his girlfriend like it was your name, like it was a prize, a gift, a blessing. “My girlfriend” sounded like honey-laced praises.

He had feigned a gasp at the sight of you trying to hide your smile, and then you had burst into giggles because, of course, you revelled in his misery. But it was okay because the sound of your laughter, that joyous giggle, had erupted because of him, and that was more than enough to subside the little bits of bullying you always seemed to aim at him.

His heart beat along with the rhythm of your laugh.

It was late, and the stars had been watching your tales unfold.

Of a girl whose love yearned and pined, reaching the moon and kissing the ocean. Whose love was kept sacred and scarce, and yet, a love that was sought after, searching for love like hers. One that treasured and was kept safe, a love made of steel but soft like wool. A love that comforted.

And of a boy who loved like no other, so full and so rich. Whose love poured like the rain kissing the ground – endless and fulfilling. A love so abundant, it counted for the world.

There was so much love, too much. It was overbearing, consuming, and it was eating you both alive.

It was overwhelming.

“Hey.”

Your name had left his mouth like honey.

The silence of the gap between your two homes became deafening. Your laugh had slowly died, and your attention had glued onto him alone.

It was now or never.

Riki had known that love was you. He had known that the moment his eyes met yours, his definition had been filled in an instant.

He knew, he had loved – no, he loved you.

His second pause after the call had been enough to erupt a yawn from your lips, ever so slightly slipping past your perfectly shaped lips.

“You should get to bed,” he had said, but the lovesick gaze that you were too tired to catch said everything.

You had fought the urge to ask him what he was really thinking. You were tired, but you knew Riki – your Riki. You knew how his eyebrows pinched a certain way when he contemplated, only further accentuated when he hesitated.

You had his entire face burned into your mind, and your heart.

But for tonight, you had let him and his burning thoughts wait as you slightly nodded.

“I’m not gonna wake you up this time,” you replied, smiling ever so slightly.

You had left your window open, as you always did. Your window to his – it was like you were always together, connected through a fated string that crossed from one pane to the other.

…

Act 2: between 

You had grown to find joy within nothingness—or so you told yourself.

All your life, you had searched for things to put meaning into. Simple commodities that resembled fractions of joy you attempted to keep. As a child, you had never pondered trivial things that would be impossible to find answers to.

You loved the definite, the certain, the things you knew you could hold close to your heart and never let go. Like the grudge you held for the boy who had bullied Riki when he was nine—too fiery of emotions for little you to experience. Your little face had burned red with anger, fists balled and shaking with rage. There had been no stopping nine-year-old you from unleashing divine fury upon the bully. Or like the childhood bracelet Riki made when you were kids, which you had sworn never to remove despite the horrendous combination of charms. A symbol of your eternal friendship.

As you stuffed your locker with yet another textbook you barely cared about, you heard cheers echo against the walls, ricocheting straight into your ears. The stampede of footsteps seemed to hurdle past you, racing toward an unknown presence from across the hall.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t know who that presence was. Of course you did. You couldn’t ignore it, not when his fiery gaze burned holes into the back of your head.

You subtly looked over your shoulder, and there he was, in his glorious seven-foot-something stature. You saw how all the girls crowding him seemed to be trying to attract his attention, calling for his name, asking him silly, mundane questions. Anything just for a simple glance, but all Riki could do was stare at you like you were a lost treasure he had just discovered.

His gaze alone spoke a thousand words.

"I wish I could hold you."

"Your hand is mine."

"I want you."

"I need you."

"I miss you."

Those were more your feelings than what you thought his gaze said, but you had an inkling he felt the same way.

In the space between you, from metres away across the hall, you couldn’t help but feel so full of him—him and his love. He was saying nothing, yet the whole world went deaf in his presence.

You could see, miraculously through the heart-eyed girls, how he fidgeted with the little torn hem at the bottom of his shirt, remembering how you had been the culprit for that "measly" (his words, not yours) tear.

You watched as he scratched his neck awkwardly, trying to be as polite as a boy could be when rejecting a starry-eyed girl. They gave him chocolate-covered strawberries—though you knew he’d only eat them if they were microwaved despite your protests—and little love letters he would never end up reading, also despite your pitied protests.

All you wanted to do was pull him out of the crowd of crazed girls, to scream that he was yours—despite often telling him that you weren’t an object and shouldn’t be defined as "mine." Maybe it was jealousy that rippled through your blood, burning with a touch of yearning because, of course, you yearned for him. Every second of the day.

You yearned for his touch, his words, his silence.

Despite your many reluctances to say so, you were so deeply infatuated with Riki, you might as well have sprawled it across your forehead. Every distant look, light feathery touch, gentle breath that brushed against the shell of your ear. Everything he did, you clung to like a hoarder. A stupid, love-stricken hoarder. Every thought of yours was consumed by him, captivated by his every essence. Feminists before you would have shaken their heads, disappointed by how much you thought of Riki.

Frankly, you were too smitten with your dear ol’ boyfriend, even if he claimed you didn’t show enough affection to him.

Maybe it was for the best, as your gazes left each other like strangers with a fleeting glance. Similarly to last night, there was an invisible wall separating the two of you, tension threatening to crack under the pressure.

Riki was still being bombarded by love-sick girls, his longing gaze shifting into more of a plea as he watched you with all the free space he was supposed to take up.

You ignored his plea, of course, turning back around and into your locker. You would speak to him later anyway—it’s what he gets for making you late this morning (you had waited for him, as you always did).

…

Act 3: two

The two of you sit in the silence of your room for a change. The curtains of your window that peer into his room are pulled shut, dimming the space enough that you can only tell his expressions if you’re inches away from each other.

Which you are.

Riki insisted on staying over this time, wanting to leave the musk of his room for once. But really, he misses the sight of your walls.

Plastered across from him are pictures of friends and family, some of him and your shared friend group, others of his sisters and you. He thinks to himself how you have a knack for interior design, pleased with the way you showcase your love through photographs.

You say it eternalises the memories, so even when you’re both old and rotten to match your insides, you’ll always have the days of your youth.

And there’s a little flutter in his stomach when he thinks back to this memory because you said “both.” He loves that you see him forever entangled in your life.

Riki watches you doom-scroll on that godforsaken bird app. He likes to believe he’s got all your micro-expressions down—like the slight twitch of irritation in your eyebrow, the lift at the corner of your lip when you see something funny, or the scrunch of your nose when you see a resurfaced video of Nikocado Avocado.

Riki doesn’t spend half as much time on his education as he does staring at you. You’re awfully beautiful in your (his) shirt and dirty sweatpants. You’ve never bothered putting effort into your appearance when you’re in the comfort of your (or his) room, having known him far too long to care if he thinks your shirt smells like perpetual instant ramen.

His eyes travel from your appearance back to your face, and he just loves you. Loves sitting next to you. Loves seeing your face.Loves your appearance. Loves your personality. Loves that you're the opposite of a breath of fresh air—you’re comforted in his old, musty room.

Because even if he and you were stuck back in his room, you’d never change. You’re constant.

He loves the way your voice drops when you sense your tone’s shifted higher when talking to him, saying you’ll never be caught speaking to him with a babied voice. He loves how you deny his obvious affection for you—behind closed doors, because he wouldn’t hear the end of it from his friends. He loves your loudness, your quietness, your happiness, your silence.

He loves you.

He’s going to say it.

As he stares at you, yearning for you, you pretend not to notice the burning gaze of your lover. Twitter lost your attention long ago—the nth tweet about yet another scandal circling the app. Instead, you focus on your breathing. With how wild your heart’s beating, the best you can do is control how you breathe—ensuring you don’t fold in front of the lovely boy cuddled up next to you.

If Riki really knew how much you adored him—his hair, his eyes, his laugh, his smile, him—you’d never hear the end of it.

In truth, you’re simply enamoured with him. You love him. Everything about him. Years of girlhood wasted on a beautiful and sweet boy. Girlhood never prepares you for how to love a boy so lovely, so perfect. You think about how there have only been a few moments in your life where you’ve felt nothing but bliss.

Childhood was easy; ever since that fateful day where you picked a bunch of piss-covered flowers, you had no worries other than befriending the awkward little boy next door.

You’ll be sure to thank your parents’ boss for the move.

Teenhood, not so much; it’s riddled with an array of angst and anxiety. It’s a surprise you’re not imploding from the assignment you’ve been procrastinating or having a philosophical crisis like “what is love?”. But no, teenhood, albeit filled with plenty of anger and sorrow, has its fair share of wonderful moments.

Like right now, sitting in the comfort of your room—for a change. You’ve spent time imagining how your life would unravel, always with him in it, and how it ended up. The pictures plastered across the room aren’t just for show—they’re evidence that you’re happy.

Blissful.

Without Riki, you wouldn’t know what bliss is. Feeling nothing but pure and utter love.

He’s everything perfect about love.

And of course, you’ve said “I love you” plenty of times—80% of those times were when you were just kids. But that was when you were just friends. A silly phrase, really, because if you ask anyone who’s known you two since you were kids, they’d say you guys got married at the ripe age of seven with grass-bladed rings and flower crowns, with any passing animal as witness to your youthful marriage.

But now you’re dating—the dreaded boyfriend-girlfriend status. Nothing’s really changed in your relationship. Riki remains full of love and charisma, his attitude never wavering because, as he puts it, he’s known you were “the one” since you handed him those dirty flowers. You’ve remained witty and lovely as always, retaining the same spunk you had as a kid. The only two differences (soon to be one) are that your status has changed from friends to dating, and you’ve yet to say those three words, eight letters.

The phone that sits in your loose grip almost slips out, clearly losing its purpose of mindless distraction. To your dismay, Riki catches sight of your fumble, noting that you haven’t scrolled in seven minutes.

“Did my shameless staring finally catch your attention?”

He’s shameless, alright.

You drop your phone, staring deep into his dreamy eyes. You remain silent, but your expression tells him everything.

Despite the pull of your eyebrows and the purse of your lips, you love him.

“Say… what’s one thing you love about me?” he prompts, ready to finally tell you those long-awaited words. He’s thought it all out—how he’d list everything he loves about you, like he’s about to write your biography. He’s been dreaming of this moment since you started dating.

You think thoughtfully, like you’re scrounging your brain for an answer, leaving the silence in the room to deafen him with anticipation.

“Hey! Stop thinking so much!” Riki exclaims, offended that you’ve taken more than three seconds to answer, while his response would take 0.003 milliseconds (at least in his mind).

You let out a playful giggle, something you gave up trying to hide long ago. “I’m kidding,” you say, smiling.

“I’m kidding,” he mocks you in his ridiculous, high-pitched voice.

You love many things about him, too many to count. You simply love everything about him, like a reflex you can’t control.

“I love it when you’re silent.”

Riki visibly deflates, a slight frown ghosting his plump lips. His eyebrows pinch into a “what the hell” kind of expression, and his nose scrunches cutely at your words.

But you smile knowingly, taking in his sudden silence. You tune into the stillness of the room.

A rapid heartbeat.

“If you hate talking to me, just sa—”

“Because even when you’re quiet,” you interrupt, stretching your hand out to gently caress his hair, “you’re the loudest in the room.”

Your hand travels from his hair to cup his cheek, and Riki—the ever entranced—instinctively leans into your touch.

“Because you can just look at me, and I hear everything I need to hear.”

Your words are soft, gentle, and Riki swallows the lump in his throat that he hadn’t realised had formed. He stares deeply into your eyes—a different kind of stare than before.

Normally tender and kind, full of unspoken words of love. Now, all you see is devotion.

Riki focuses on the silence you’ve created, tuning into the nothingness that you said you loved about him.

And he thinks he can hear it, the silence.

It’s so loud, it bounces off the walls, pounding in his heart—even you can hear it.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

“What do you hear?” He pulls you closer, your lips hovering above his, so close he can feel your breath.

“I hear ‘I love you.’ ”

Your lips mould against his before he can respond, but something tells him that you know. And besides, he has a lifetime's worth of “I love yous”— he’ll let you have this one.

author's note pt.2: its been more than a year since i made this wip and i finally finished it LOLLL it took me so longggg ANDDD i feel like its a bit lackluster in the second act... ENJOY THOUGH. i love the the ending

[unholyverse]

MYSPACE 1.0 THEME REFRESH (originally by conkersradfurday, refreshed by unholyverse)

live previews: 1, 2 / download (pastebin)

hi! i've been using this old theme for years now because other myspace themes don't hit the same, but i've been tweaking a lot of it for personal use. i think it's been long enough since this theme has been abandoned that i can upload something that can handle itself better on modern tumblr.

main features

asks are formatted to look like myspace comments. fun!

four custom links

myspace buttons to follow, message, or block the blog owner

a bunch of info spaces so the world can know what you're about

extra font options

functional search bar (but this is tumblr so...semi functional?)

that web 2.0 ugly goodness

other features + info below the cut

new features

friend space - ever wanna show off your friends? now you can with the friend space to show off your top 8 9 friends on your blog. don't have enough friends? no worries, you can always toggle it off

image space - wanna put a bunch of blinkies somewhere? you'll need to have a bit of html and css knowledge for it, but you can go into the code and add as many images as you'd like. just look for the section and start pasting those images. it's a little tedious but tbh that's just the authentic myspace experience isn't it? but if that's not your thing, you can also toggle it off too.

tweaked/deleted features

had to delete the music player :( sorry but it used flash and i'm not really sure how to make a music player in javascript yet

added username input because it was annoying me that your title could be your name and it didn't make sense in most cases

deleted infinite scroll because the script was super outdated

added the ability to change the "online now!" gif. the original gif will always be in the defaults of the code.

changed the text post header font to verdana because it was impact and you could not fucking read that and it wasn't accurate to a myspace bulletin anyways

deleted the feature that force showed all the pages you made on your blog. so annoying. it will look a little weird if you have asks/submissions deactivated, but i doubt many of you using the theme will have them closed anyways

changed the dead links to redirect to the actual myspace site

extra recommended add-ons

scm music player: a customizable music player with tons of different skins and tons of songs you're able to add

unblue polls by @glenthemes: what it says basically; allows you to customize the colors of tumblr polls on your blog

cursors-4u.com: i love these dinky little cursors they're so fun. great if you really wanna lean into the 2000s aspect of the theme

cursor sparkles: what else is there to say about this they're just fun

notes

i plan on updating the theme semi-regularly if bugs are brought up and stuff (which you can tell me through my inbox)

hopefully i can work on extra tweaks as time goes on (such as figuring out how to add a footer image to videos, toggle tags, etc)

don't repost/claim as your own because it already isn't mine in the first place

like/reblog if you use!

update log

added a tags toggle + tweaked the video post sizes

made the "is in your extended network" status customizable to add different text. feel free to tell the world how many gas station boner pills you took

added an official theme link

[cheriladycl01]

None of my Achievements are my Own - Lando Norris x Verstappen! Reader

Plot: Being the little sister of Max Verstappen, Ex Girlfriend of Charles Leclerc and Lando Norris current girlfriend nothing that you do, seems to reflect on you, it’s always one of the men in your life getting the credit.

Coming from a family with the last name Verstappen, made anything you did as a child not good enough.

You won a medal in your swimming class, Max had won 3.

You raised €600 euro selling baked cakes across your village for the local environment agency. Max had raised €2000 for his local karting track to get new tires around the edges for protection and have the track relayed.

They were silly little things but as a kid, you never felt appreciated by your family and it wasn’t just your dad, it seemed to be your mum too. Max and Victoria also never took notice of your feelings on the matter.

As you got older, being cast out and almost ignored by your family caused you to develop Anxiety and stayed in the house for most of your teen years.

You only really left when forced to go to Max’s races as he started progressing his way through the FIA feeder series to get to F1.

“Dad I really don’t want to be here today” you sighed rubbing your shoulder as you kept your headphones half on half off.

“It’s good for you to support your brother, especially as he’s becoming an accomplished young man. I can’t say the same for you” he frowns watching as Max passes you guys on track.

That race shortly ended. You saw Max getting a little heated just after the podium, and you ran over to your older brother to try calm him down.

If there was one thing you were good at it was calming his bad temper down. Not that you ever got the recognition.

“Max, Maxie what’s going on?” You ask running up to him, and seeing the guilty looking boy next to him.

“Next time maybe fucking look” Max seethes at the boy.

“Max calm down. What happened” you ask taking a hold of his arm, but he swats your hand off.

“He nearly made me loose that race from his careless driving” he points at the boy before storming of to your father, no doubt to have him critique the hell out of his race.

“I’m so sorry about him” you admit to the boy bashfully. He was still stood there looking rather awkward.

“It’s fine, he was right. You’re his sister right?” he sighs.

“Yeah- how’d you know?” You ask.

“You always seem to be here with Max and your dad. I don’t think he’d talk to you the way he does if you weren’t his family. I’m Charles by the way” the boy says and that was the start of something really beautiful.

You started dating Charles just as he was announced for F2 in 2016. But when that got into the media, of course it was because of Max that you’d managed to get into a relationship with a future F1 driver.

You thought finally having some independence from your brother would mean you could put a foot out in this world.

But once you left home to move in with Charles, it only seemed like as he progressed to Formula One in 2018, your further achievements were still not your own.

“Max, I’m leaving” you’d told you brother. You’d already had this conversation with your father who had refused at the idea at first, thinking it preposterous of you to leave.

“What do you mean?” He’d asked cocking his head to the side.

“I’m going to live with Charles, I think it’s going to be better for me” you said, looking down, and playing with your fingers.

“What do you mean, better for you” he asks with a frown on his face. Despite what the fans, or media stated Max loved you with his whole heart, and it was a huge heart he loved you with, he however was ignorant to your feelings on independence. But that was also partly your fault for hiding it so well.

“I just want to go do something for me, you know where it’s my name tied to it and I think somewhere new away from everything here is exactly what I need” you explained.

“Your name?” He asks with even more of a frown.

“None of my achievements are my own, or are acknowledged because I’m the sister of Max Verstappen but maybe I just want to be Y/N for a little bit? I want people to notice me for me, and what I’ve done in life. Not just because my last name is Verstappen” you smiled and hoped that day your new life with Charles would be different.

It wasn’t, If anything … it was worse.

You got into University to study engineering, but that was only because you were dating F1 driver Charles Leclerc otherwise you would have gotten into University the minute you turned 18 in 2017. Rather than delaying it till 2019 once Charles had a secure seat in Ferrari.

And when you became an advocate for APM Monaco, it was only because Charles was asked first.

Or once you got a job within McLaren in 2019 it was only because you had a brother driving for RedBull and a boyfriend driving for Ferrari. Not because of your ambition and hard work in your first year of University.

And when Charles proposed to you, you were quick to say yes.

You were ready to get rid of the dreadful Verstappen name, and Y/N Leclerc had a nice ring to it, and maybe once you just became Charles fiancé you’d have some independence.

But that fantasy was of course short lived.

“Charles baby?” You asked coming home from a day at university. You’d come home because a lecturer had failed to turn up so you thought you’d surprise your boyfriend with his favourite meal and some flowers.

You heard some movement in the bedroom making you go up and see a sight that broke your heart.

Your boyfriend of 4 years, fiancé for 1 year in bed with another woman. You couldn’t bare the sight.

“Y/N my love. I - what” he gasps as you’d entered the bedroom.

“H-how long?” You’d asked, it was your first question. We’re you not good enough?

“Ma Cherie, please forgive me I’m so so sorry” he begs getting on his knees and the other girl takes her leave.

And the worst thing of all, you were so hopelessly in love with him, that you nearly did forgive him with that look.

“Nothing I’ve ever done in my life, has ever been because of me. I’ve never got the credit for anything, so this one time… I’m taking the credit for breaking up with you. And you are going to tell everyone how you broke my heart … because I will not have you take this from me” you’d said to him with tears in your eyes, a sense of deja vu from you conversation three years prior with Max.

You broke up with him on the spot not wishing to ever see him again.

After some time of self reflecting and improvement you and Lando, who had joined McLaren at the same time as you and became your close friend decided it was time to be more than friends.

Lando had always kind of held a school boy crush on you since you both started in 2019, but he knew you were untouchable thanks to both your brother and your boyfriend at the time. Being the same age made you guys really close.

Once you’d broken up with Charles, he could see the change in you, there wasn’t that sparkle in your eyes, you always looked pretty vacant when he looked at you when you thought nobody was looking.

He’d watch the way your eyes lit up with fake happiness when someone approached you to talk.

You and Lando started dating at the end of the 2022 season. However when he said he wanted to keep it under wraps for a while you were so excited. It meant you had Landos love and affection but you were free to be you right?

WRONG

Whatever you’d did you were still seen as Max Verstappen’s Sister and the Ex Girlfriend of Charles Leclerc.

However as you and Lando grew as a couple you noticed he was one of the only to acknowledge your achievements even if the fans didn’t.

When you graduated from your masters in 2023 he was there with a bunch of flowers and watched as you walked across the stage being the loudest person cheering you on, well the only person really cheering you on. Your parents and brother didn’t manage to come.

When you started running a charity on the side to help creatures in the ocean stop ingesting so much plastic being thrown into the ocean. He was there at the press conference where you’d announced your invention and how it would help clear up the oceans.

All of the little side quests he did with you, he made sure to promote them as yours as yours alone and he was only tagging alone to watch and support.

Of course there were still haters, thought you were only a product of your birth name and who you’d dated and that’s why you’d been given all these opportunity’s and that you hadn’t worked hard for anything in your life.

Which was beyond false.

“Lando?” You asked one day, you both lying in bed after a stressful race weekend.

“Yes baby?” He asks looking away from his phone and his eyes fully trained on you showing he was paying full attention to you.

“I - I really love you and appreciate you, I just wanted to let you know” you say looking over at him, and he moves back in shock a little, trying not to show it.

“W-what? Where has this come from. I know you love me silly” he laughs looking over you to try determine if there was anything else going on.

“I know I know, I just - my whole life whatever I’ve done was never mine … not until I met you. And I just want you to know that I appreciate the fact that you see … well me” you breathe and as ge listens he looks like he could cry from the things you are saying to him.

He knew your relationship with your brother was strained at best, he saw that from the very start. And he knew you and Charles didn’t exactly end on a happy note but he didn’t realise just how much you’d been not only discredited for but out right stolen off.

“Baby - why did you never tell me” he asks pulling you into him and hugging you while toying with your hair gently.

“I guess I never felt like I had a voice until I met you, because nothing was my own. But I have that with you!” You smile tears brimming your own eyes with how much you love this man in front of you.

“Marry me” he whispers not looking at you, and you think you didn’t hear him correctly.

“What?”

“Marry me. I never want you to feel like that ever again, and I love you more than anything on this planet. I want to show you just how much of a voice you have for the rest of our lives” he offers and you can’t help but just stare at his eyes.

“Yes - Yes” you cry and cling to him like a koala.

You’d finally found your voice and your purpose and that was in Lando Norris.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[tinycoffeeroom]

miami heat | lando norris

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

a/n: this is SO late but it took me forever to move past the writers block of a text only fic </3 still thinking about lando's race win...

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You and Lando had been inevitable. Your dad was a long time racing fan, often attending karting events around the country and dragging you along. As time passed, you learned to love it too, often waiting for your dad at the door when he got back from work so the two of you could quickly throw some clothes into an overnight bag and travel off to whichever race track you’d be camping in that weekend.

It helped that your cousin was a kart racer, both you and your dad using him as an excuse for attending so many races. Your mum would sigh, pull out the premade lunches from the fridge and stuff them into a small blue cooler before seeing the two of you off at the door. 

When your cousin got the call up to F4, you’d been overjoyed for him. Being able to watch his dreams come true filled you with so much pride. It also gave you and your dad another excuse to attend more F4 races, now offering to pick your cousin up and take him from race track to race track every weekend as well as your dad offering to be his race engineer, using his background as a mechanic to work on the car’s engine. Your aunt and uncle agreed happily, knowing how much the two of you enjoyed watching your cousin race. 

The first live F4 race felt electrifying. You weren’t used to seeing actual cars racing in person, only ever watching the Formula 1 races on the small portable TV your dad had invested in during the first year of your kart watching adventures. You and your cousin would always cheer for your favourite racers, him still sweaty and suited up from his own race but pumped up on adrenaline. 

You watched as he fist bumped other drivers after the race, coming a respectable 4th in his first ever F4 race. This part was your least favourite, having to wait for your cousin to talk to all these sweaty teenage boys was not your idea of fun. Spread out comfortably on the moon chairs your dad had bought for the races, you opened your 3DS to play Pokemon Sun. Too enveloped in the battle between your Incineroar and the NPC’s Crabominable, you missed the sound of someone dropping into the chair next to you. 

“What level is he?”

You jumped at the sound, looking up quickly to lock eyes with a random boy. 

He was obviously a racer, still suited up. Using one hand to push back sweat soaked curly hair, he curiously eyed your 3DS before looking back up at you. 

“She’s level 57. I need to beat this Crabominable to make her 58 so she can learn Flare Blitz.”

He hummed, a soft smile spread across his face as he flits his eyes over you. You took note of your appearance, hair pulled back into two braids to keep it out of your face in the windy English weather, your dads bomber jacket engulfing your figure as you fought the cold. 

“Female Incineroar, rare.” He sounded impressed. “Don’t let me stop you.” Gesturing to the console in your hands, he leant back and focused on your hands. 

Unsure of how to respond, you looked back down at your game. The Crabominable had about half HP but this was a nasty NPC, whipping out potion after potion to heal the Pokemon. You and the unnamed boy sat side by side as you chipped away, bit by bit, at the Crabominable’s HP until the victory message appeared on your screen. A mere 2000 pokedollars given for your troubles.

You watched as your Incineroar, lovingly nicknamed Kitty from when you started the game, levelled up to 58 and finally, she could learn Flame Blitz. 

Saving the game and shutting down the console, you looked back at the boy beside you. He smiled back in response. 

“So… no offence, but who are you?” The second the sentence left your lips, you wanted to smack the 3DS into your face, tone not unkind but wary. You could only hope he wouldn’t take offence to the question. 

“Oh, sorry!” He reaches across to offer you his hand. You shake it gingerly, his hand warm in your wind chilled one. 

“I’m Lando. Lando Norris. Soon to be F4 champion if all goes well. And you are?”

He was still smiling, the curve unnerving you a little. “Y/N. My cousin’s just joined F4, he’s over there.” Reaching out, you pointed towards the boy in question who was high fiving another racer, the two of them laughing loudly over the sound of car engines. 

“Oh, Y/C/N? He’s cool. I met his dad earlier.”

You glanced over at the man mentioned, head bowed as he conversed with the other adults about race tactics and the boys’ performances. “That’s my dad, his uncle. He’s a mechanic so it made sense that he would be Y/C/N’s race engineer.”

“What about you? Are you a big karting fan?” 

From the sound of his voice, you could tell he was facing you. Too nervous to look into his eyes again, you focused on your dad, watching as he pulled your cousin aside to talk about the race. “I am. Me and my dad have been going to karting events most weekends for years.” 

His eyes burned into the side of your face, gaze unwavering. “How about Formula 1? That’s my dream, I want to race against Lewis Hamilton and one day beat him.”

The mention of your favourite driver dragged your attention back to the boy beside you. You smiled softly, pulling your iPhone 6 out of your pocket to show him the 44 sticker on the back of the case. “I love Formula 1. Me and Y/C/N are gonna watch the race in the van while my dad makes some adjustments to the car. Do you…” You hesitated for a moment.

Were you really going to invite a boy you’d just met to come sit with you and your cousin to watch a race? It was harmless, the three of you would fit in the back seats, but you weren’t sure if Y/C/N would want him to join. 

Lando beat you to it. “Aw, I would ask to join but me and my dad have to get back home as soon as possible, it’s my sister's birthday this weekend!” Pulling his own phone out of his pocket, he showed you his lockscreen, a picture of him and who you guessed was his family. 

You nod, turning your own phone in circles in your hands. “Happy birthday to your sister.” 

He grins, the smile seemingly permanently etched on his face. “Thanks, Y/N!” 

You hear a man call for him, presumably his dad. Lando sighed as he nodded towards the man, turning back towards you. “Gotta run! Could I maybe get your number? I think we’re going to be good friends.”

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

He was right. The two of you would text every moment you could. In between classes, before and after dinner, even facetiming until the early hours of the morning on weekends. 

Every weekend, you’d pull up to the race track and there Lando would be, permanent wide smile and open arms as you hugged briefly. Before each race, he’d run over to you, head bowed so you could knock on his helmet. You weren’t sure when the tradition had started but ever since it began, it was cemented in his pre-race routine. 

After every race, it would go one of two ways. If it was a good race, he’d run over and hug you, spinning you round as you laughed brightly at him. If it was a not so good race, you’d be the one to approach him, the two of you sitting on the lip of his dad’s van in comfortable silence as you let him work through his emotions in his own time. He’d soon come around, chatting to you about any and everything. 

Before you’d leave, he’d pull you into another hug, swaying the two of you from side to side. 

Of course, your cousin teased you. Singing silly childish songs, “Y/N and Lando sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G”. You’d bat him across the head, willing the blush in your cheeks to go down. 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Since the two of you were now 16, whilst Lando had allowances for his GCSE’s, you still had to knuckle down and work hard. Hours were spent sitting at your desk, eyes scanning across textbook after textbook. It was only after Lando called you in tears after he struggled to understand the poems needed for his English exams and explained he had dyslexia that the two of you would facetime every night. You’d read out the poems to him as he took it all in and made notes in a way that made sense to him. You told him about these coloured overlays that were meant to help people with dyslexia read, and you’d watch him cry as pink acetate covered the poems and he could finally, finally, understand. The two of you still facetimed every night, he claimed your voice helped him understand so much more. 

Since you had to revise, you often had to forfeit your racing weekends. You’d see your dad and cousin off at the door, much like your mum had done for years, and return to your room, wiping the tears that threatened to escape from your eyes. 

The routine never changed though. Lando would call you before every race, telling you that you had to knock on the screen and he’d hold his helmet clad head to the camera. After every race, you’d either celebrate over the phone or sit in silence, watching him through the screen as he let himself digest what went wrong in the race. 

Your last GCSE exam fell on a Friday, the freedom of your weekends returning. You didn’t tell Lando, wanting to surprise him at the race track. As you sat in the back seat of your dad’s van, you kept up the pretence for Lando, texting him as if you had a normal weekend of revising ahead. 

When the three of you pulled up to the race track, you ducked down so you weren’t visible through the windows. Your dad got out of the car first, greeting Lando’s dad. The two of them had formed a good friendship through the race weekends, often sitting together to watch the boys go round the track. Next up was Y/C/N, jumping out the van and fist bumping a waiting Lando. 

The two boys went to leave, already play fighting about who would win. It was only then that you snuck out the back seat, hands on your hips as you called out to the boys ahead. 

“Forgetting something?”

Lando’s head whipped around so fast, you feared he’d give himself whiplash. You barely had time to laugh at his dumbstruck expression before he’d launched himself at you, strong arms wrapped tight around your waist as he lifted you in the air. 

He pressed his face deeply into your neck, the feel of his smile present against your skin. 

Linking your arms around the back of his neck, you played with the unruly curls tickling your chin. “Missed me?”

He nodded, head still firmly placed between your neck and shoulder. The two of you stood there for a moment, enjoying each other’s presence until your cousin piped up. 

“We do still have a race to get to.” Locking eyes with him, you could already tell he was going to tease you relentlessly when you’re back in the van. 

Lando finally released you, hands still holding firm on the sides of your waist. Warm smile directed at you, eyes glistening a little with unshed tears. 

Lando’s dad bumped his helmet against his shoulder, Lando taking it and pulling on his balaclava and the helmet. He bowed his head, allowing you to knock on it once. This time however, he knocked on your own head once, hand uncurling to cup the side of your face before he walks away to join your cousin. 

In that moment, you knew you were in love with Lando Norris. 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The two of you stayed close throughout the years. You still attended as many races as possible, celebrating his wins and commiserating through his lows. Soon you were watching him in Formula 3, then Formula 2 and finally, after all his hard work, you stood in the paddock of Albert Park watching as Lando was flanked by engineers. 

His debut Formula 1 race. 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The day you got the call that he’d been contracted by McLaren was one of the best days of your life. It took him 5 minutes to calm down enough to explain to you what had happened, the two of you sobbing violently over the phone as you realised his dream had come true. 

As you collected yourself once you’d gotten off the phone, your mum had come upstairs with a packed lunch and a flask of fresh, warm coffee. Looking at her questioningly, she smiled softly at you. 

“Go. You need to celebrate with him in person.”

You grabbed the box and flask from her hands, arms thrown wide around her. Packing a quick overnight bag, you jumped in your car, haring down the motorway to Lando’s parents house. 

The look on his face when he opened the door made the possible speeding tickets worth it, eyes wide and glossy as they flit up and down your body. “You’re here?”

You grinned at him, wide and unabashed. “I’m here.”

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The cycle continued. Every podium was met with you running into his arms when he was back in the garage and every DNF resulted in the two of you sitting in his driver’s room, your arms wrapped tight around him as the dream of a grand prix win slipped from his grasp again and again. 

Today, something was different however. Lando had knocked on your door bright and early, inviting you down for breakfast with the team. He told you about a dream he had last night where he won the Miami Grand Prix, how the champagne shower had felt so real. 

This unwavering optimism continued throughout the day. Him bouncing alongside you as you walked through the paddock, greeting the other drivers along your way. The optimism rubbed off on you, finding yourself pulling up old photos of Lando to save to a folder titled “Race Win”. 

When it came time to get in the car, you watched as his engineer secured the final straps before disappearing behind a screen to check the car’s stats. He looked up at you through the open visor, head soon bowing. Leaning down, you knocked once before dropping a quick kiss to the top of his helmet. Extra luck for the day. 

The entire race had you on the edge of your seat. You cheered as Oscar led the grand prix, winced as Max hit the bollard and nearly sobbed your eyes out as Lando overtook to lead. Kevin pushing Logan off the track meant a safety car and Lando ended up fortunate to join at the back but one lap ahead. A pit stop and fresh tires and away he went. Each second he gained on Max left spikes in your heart rate until it reached the 7 second mark and the last 4 laps and you knew. Deep down in your soul, even if everyone was still on tenterhooks, you knew this was his time. His win. 

The engineers ran to the fences, an army of papaya swarming the metal chain link as your eyes stayed glued to the camera. At the last second, you darted out to the fence, away from the chanting crowd so you’d have an unobstructed view of his win. 

The chequered flag waved and Lando crossed the finish line, now a grand prix winner. You couldn’t have stopped the tears even if you tried, knees buckling as you held onto the fence in front of you. 

The noise around you was near deafening, engineers dog piling on one another, a few strays leaving the group to wrap you in tight hugs. 

A hand landed on your shoulder, warm but soft pats pulling you from your stupor. Turning, you looked up at Zak, a fond smile on his face. “Let’s go see our boy.”

The two of you walked in near silence, Zak leaving his hand on your shoulder as he welcomed congratulations from other teams. The tears never stopped streaming down your face, vision swimming as you passed team after team. 

The breath was knocked out of you as arms wrapped around your waist from behind and swung you around. Looking down, you spotted the rose tattoo on a left hand and laughed as Daniel dropped you back softly onto the ground. Spinning around, you threw yourself into his arms properly, the two of you rocking back and forth happily. 

“He did it!” Daniel shouted as you pulled away, hands on your shoulders to shake you gently. 

“He did it!” You responded, a fresh wave of tears escaping your eyes. Daniel laughed at your tears, wiping them away haphazardly before letting you run back to Zak’s side. 

You watch as Lando ran towards his team, still fully suited up, launching himself into the air as the sea of papaya below caught him. The team held him aloft, jostling him through a mass of hands. 

Once he’s back on solid ground, Zak approached him first, the two of them sharing a warm hug. The visor of his helmet is lifted and without even seeing his face, you know he’s smiling, eyes scrunched up in joy. 

Those same eyes finally lock onto you, wide and sparkling. He runs at you as fast as he can, arms outstretched. You brace for impact, a laugh being pressed out of you as he crushes you in his arms. Your legs wrap around his waist as he lifts you up, warm eyes staring straight into yours. 

Before you even know what you’re doing, your lips press against the front of his helmet, right where his own mouth would be beneath the carbon fibre, a universal sign in racing of a lover’s kiss. 

Ignoring the roar of his team around you, you focus on Lando in front of you. His eyes crinkled under the force of his own happiness, shining bright even under the dark cover of the helmet. He lowers you down, arms wrapped firmly around your waist until your feet are planted safe on the floor. 

You watch as he unclasps the straps under his chin and rips the helmet off, his neck support following in haste. His eyes are still locked onto yours, unshed tears gleaming along his lash line. Through the balaclava, you can see his smile, warm and golden in the Miami sun. 

The balaclava comes off next and your heart stutters at the pure, unobstructed view of the man in front of you. Sweat clings to his upper lip, dripping down his thick neck, curls matted to his forehead under the American heat. You’re drawn back to his eyes, green as a hidden forest, full of glimpses of golden hour through the branches. You loved how you could always tell how he felt through his eyes, forever abundant with emotion. 

Hands wrap back around your waist, dragging you into him as he presses his lips unwaveringly against your own. It’s a little gross, the feeling of sweat transferring to your own lips, the damp curls at the bottom of his neck where your hands come to lie but you wouldn’t change it for the world. It’s worth it to feel his smile against your own, the kiss more teeth than lips and you breathe in the way he laughs against your mouth, molten gold dripping from his lips to yours. 

The two of you part slightly, cheeks aching at the way you’re still grinning. The kiss remains unspoken, Lando being dragged off by his team for interviews. You look at Zak who winks knowingly at you. This time, you let the blush rise, overtaking your cheeks and flushing down your neck. 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Waiting for Lando in his driver's room seemed to never end. It had been an hour since you’d finally kissed him and your lips still tingle with the feeling. 

Your mind was a jumbled mess, thought after thought fighting to sit at the front of your mind. Tracing your finger across your lips, you allow yourself to remember that moment. To fall headfirst into how it felt to finally feel what it was like to kiss Lando. 

The sound of the driver’s room door banging against the wall shakes you out of your stupor, twirling around to face a sheepish Lando. 

“Um, sorry… I guess I was just eager to get back here.” He giggles softly, standing still in the threshold. 

Smiling back at him, you gesture him inwards, scoffing at the absurdity of you inviting him into his own driver’s room. He stumbles in, shutting the door behind him. One hand reaches out to run over the scuff mark on the wall, grimacing as he traces the black mark. 

He turns to face you, smile beaming as you stand two feet apart, eyes tracing over each other as you bask in the long awaited silence. You watch as his hand reaches out, the back of his fingers brushing against yours. The hand reaches around, clasping yours gently in his. You squeeze once, smiling shyly up at him. 

“Can I tell you something?” His voice is quiet, almost shaky as he keeps his eyes trained on your conjoined hands. 

You squeeze his hand again, humming your assent. 

“I love you. I’ve loved you since we were 15 years old and I saw you sitting on those moon chairs. I remember my heart was beating so, so fast and I thought it was just post race adrenaline but when I remember your shy smile and the braids you had in your hair and my heart feels the exact same way. It’s always been you.”

Even after the kiss, the admission makes your heart race wildly. He loves you. He loves you back. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was scared. Scared that you wouldn’t love me the same way I love you.” He tries to come off nonchalant, but the way his hand trembles in yours betrays his true emotions. 

Rubbing your thumb over the back of his shaking hand, heart thumping erratically at both the situation and the sweetness of his nervous confession. “Lan, I was literally a 15 year old racing nerd and you were a boy willingly talking to me. Why do you think I was a nervous mess when you spoke to me? I had the biggest crush on you.”

“Having a crush and loving someone is different.” He leads you by your intertwined hands to the sofa, settling back into the corner as you sit close enough to keep your hands connected. “Back then, you knew me as Lando Norris, F4 driver, and then just Lando, your best friend who secretly stuffs his face with pizza and falls over his own feet more often than not.” He huffs out a laugh at the memory of the last time he’d tripped over thin air and fallen flat on his face when you’d gone to visit him in Monaco. 

Avoiding eye contact, he keeps his eyes trained on the way your fingers interlock almost perfectly. “I was worried you wouldn’t love me when we became close.” 

“You idiot,” using your free hand, you smack him lightly on the arm, giggling at the fact the two of you had been mutually pining for years, “that just made me love you more. Sure, I was 16 and the idea of dating a race car driver, even little Lando Norris,” his arm reaches out to return the smack, “was a dream, but then I wanted to date just Lando, the man who gives me piggybacks from clubs when my feet hurt and bites my arm when I’m not paying attention. I love you, just plain old Lando Norris.”

If you thought his smile when winning was bright, the one he shoots you now is almost overwhelming. Face pulled up so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if he complained of an ache in his cheeks later, eyes crinkling deeply at the corners and shining a bright seafoam green. 

Before you can return the grin, he reaches up and grabs the back of your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. The passion is the same but different, no longer adrenaline filled from a race win, but full of love and adoration and the secret he never thought he’d get the chance to say. 

He pulls back just enough for a whisper of air to pass between the two of you, eyes warm and locked onto yours. “I love you. So much. It’s me and you, plain old Lando and plain old Y/N.” 

You push him lightly, grinning playfully. “Who are you calling plain?”

He rectifies his mistake with another kiss, this one softer and slower, the two of you taking the time to appreciate that this moment had finally come. The kiss moves to the corner of your lips, across your cheek and down to the spot just below your ear. 

A hand wraps around your waist, securing you to your spot. Pulling back slightly, you look down at the smiling man resting his head on your shoulder. “So, I love you, and you love me. What next?”

“We go celebrate this momentous occasion, and the race win, and then I take you out for our first proper date.” Tightening his hold on you, he moves his head to rest in the juncture between your neck and shoulder, dropping warm kisses to the skin beneath his mouth. 

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

a/n: 3 of my top 5 boys on the canada podium is so 💞💖🩷💓💗💝💖💗💕💗💘💞 also as an esteban ult, it's on site for alpine fr. ALSO GOTE pt 3 coming soon ❤️

[jihyoruri]

❀𖥨᩠ׄ݁ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ LUCKY GIRL kazuha nakamura x reader

↳ warnings ive!yn, idol!au, yn is a girly pink diva, placed during the 2000s (2nd gen), cuteness (kinda), italics are flashbacks

when kazuha was offered the chance to join a group alongside two former izone members, she knew it was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up.

she still remembers sitting in her room in june 2003, watching their debut video in awe. now, three years later, she’s not just their teammate she’s practically family to sakura and chaewon.

you’d think that since kazuha was such a big fan of izone, she’d be begging chaewon and sakura to introduce her to the rest of the members. but nope. the only person on her mind was a certain member of another post izone group.

yn.

just like her, yn was part of a group with two former izone members, ive. the group was a pretty big deal, with wonyoung, the ultimate it girl, and yn, who had been crowned korea’s sweetheart.

and kazuha was completely mesmerized.

yn was just so pretty, so intriguing. you don’t even want to know how many times kazuha rewatched ive’s come to play episode just to see yn in her natural habitat.

she begged chaewon and sakura to ask yujin and wonyoung to introduce her to yn, but instead of being supportive like kazuha thought they should’ve been, they hit her with this.

“yujin, mentioned that yn is bit of a diva..” sakura trailed off.

“she also said yn’s kind of untouchable. sorry, but you wouldn’t stand a chance,” chaewon added, leaving kazuha’s mouth hanging open in offense.

untouchable my ass.

there had to be a way, some way, to talk to yn, even just once.

and then, as if the gods were listening, her chance appeared.

kazuha was a bundle of nerves when she found out she had a meeting with music bank. why on earth would they want to meet with her?

it was her first time attending a meeting without her members, and it felt strange walking into the building with only one of her managers by her side.

as they made their way down the hall, she fidgeted with her hands, too caught up in her thoughts to notice when she walked right past the door. her manager had to gently pull her back.

taking deep breaths, kazuha followed her manager into the room. she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to steady herself, but when she opened them, her heart nearly stopped

sitting there beside her own manager was a girl wearing a pink long sleeve shirt under a silver sparkly puffer vest. her hair was perfectly styled, topped with a white headband that had her name printed on it, and she wore pink uggs with little white bows.

it was obvious who she was.

kazuha wanted to scream when the girl made direct eye contact with her, but then, as quickly as it happened, she looked away, pulling out her bedazzled phone and typing something with lightning speed.

"yn, put the phone down," her manager muttered, shaking his head. when the girl ignored him and kept typing away, he sighed and snatched the phone from her hands, slipping it into his pocket.

kazuha couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto her face as she watched yn pout dramatically at her manager. the girl pinched his arm a couple of times in protest, but when it became clear he wasn’t giving the phone back, she let out an exaggerated huff and crossed her arms.

following her manager’s lead, kazuha made her way around the table. her heart nearly stopped when her manager took a seat on yn’s side but left an empty chair between them, her chair.

nervously, kazuha sat down, her movements stiff. as soon as she did, she was hit with the scent of yn’s perfume, a sweet, heady fragrance that smelled exactly like what she imagined the color pink would smell like.

“what did you just say?”

kazuha froze, flinching as she turned her head to meet yn’s curious gaze. “huh?”

“you said I smell like the colour pink.”

embarrassment flooded kazuha. she stared straight ahead, trying to avoid yn’s eyes. “I did?”

“yeah, you did.”

a tense silence filled the air, kazuha feeling like she was about to melt into her seat.

then yn broke into a grin. “that’s like the best compliment ever. but, like, of course I smell like the color pink. I mean, tell me something I don’t know,” she rambled cheerfully.

kazuha let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, a wave of relief washing over her.

yn’s excited rambling about herself came to an abrupt halt when the door opened, and someone who looked pretty important walked in, followed by two others. they greeted everyone warmly before taking their seats and setting down their folders.

the man in the center cleared his throat. “normally, we hold auditions for mcs,” he began, “but we’ve decided to offer the positions directly to you two.”

kazuha’s eyes widened, a small gasp escaping her lips. her? an mc? she never would’ve expected this. she’d always thought if anyone in her group were to get such an opportunity, it’d be eunchae or yunjin—definitely not her

“with yn’s ‘princess’ persona and kazuha’s ‘black swan’ image,” the man continued, “we thought you two would make the perfect pair. so, what do you think?”

a brief silence followed as kazuha tried to process the situation.

then yn broke it, her voice cutting through like a bell. “can the stylists make sure every single one of my outfits is pink?”

kazuha blinked, caught between disbelief and amusement, while the room erupted into laughter.

it didn’t take long for kazuha to notice yn’s diva tendencies once they started mcing together on music bank.

but unlike what chaewon and sakura had warned her about, kazuha didn’t find yn unbearable or hard to deal with. in fact, she adored it. every dramatic eye roll, every over the top request, every moment yn complained about how the lights didn’t properly highlight her “best angles” just made kazuha smile.

“ugh, why is this mic stand so tall?” yn whined one friday morning as they prepared to go live. for their intro they had to jokingly sing one of the preforming groups songs, she glanced at the staff, snapping her fingers like she was summoning a butler. “can someone fix this? it’s ruining my vibe.”

kazuha, standing quietly beside her, leaned over and adjusted the mic for yn herself. “how’s that?” she asked softly.

yn blinked at her, clearly caught off guard for a second, before giving her a dazzling smile. “perfect. you’re such a lifesaver, zuha!”

“i told you,” chaewon had sighed during one of their dorm hangouts, “you can’t handle someone like yn. she’s too... much, yujin and wonyoung can handle her because they live with her.”

“she’s not too much,” kazuha argued, her tone soft but firm. “she’s just... unique.”

“unique?” sakura snorted, leaning back on the couch. “the girl demanded a pink carpet for her entrance at an event last week, kazuha. pink. carpet.”

“and?” kazuha shrugged, her lips tugging into a small smile. “she pulled it off, didn’t she?”

“you’re impossible,” chaewon groaned, shaking her head.

despite their teasing, kazuha couldn’t help but feel that yn wasn’t untouchable at all. if anything, yn was just oblivious to the signs kazuha had been dropping since day one.

there were moments, though, where kazuha started to question if yn even liked girls. she’d scroll through old interviews, rewatch clips, and analyze every moment for clues.

“yunjin,” kazuha said one evening, barging into the kitchen where her member was snacking, “look at this.”

yunjin took kazuha’s heavy laptop , watching a clip of yn fangirling over a famous female idol.

“okay,” yunjin said, handing the laptop back. “and?”

“and doesn’t it seem like she could, you know...” kazuha hesitated. “like girls?”

yunjin raised an eyebrow. “zuha, she called the idol ‘taker of her heart,’ and then two minutes later, called a male actor her ‘future husband.’ she’s not giving you much to work with here.”

kazuha groaned, collapsing onto the chair beside her. “but she flirts with me sometimes!”

“flirts with you?” yunjin repeated with a laugh. “yn flirts with everyone by accident she probably flirted with the barista who made her coffee this morning.”

“you don’t get it,” kazuha muttered, fiddling with the hem of her shirt.

still, she couldn’t help but notice those little moments. the way yn would casually brush her hand against kazuha’s arm, or lean in just a bit closer than necessary during rehearsals.

“ugh, zuha, does my hair look okay?” yn asked one day, tugging at kazuha’s sleeve as they waited backstage.

kazuha turned to look at her, her heart racing. yn’s perfectly styled curls framed her face, and her soft pink lip gloss caught the light just right.

“you look perfect,” kazuha said honestly.

yn grinned, flipping her hair dramatically. “of course I do, but thanks for confirming.”

kazuha’s members, of course, never stopped teasing her.

“you’re really setting yourself up for heartbreak, you know,” sakura warned one evening after their schedules were done.

“i’m not,” kazuha insisted.

“you are,” chaewon said. “but you’re stubborn, so do what you want.”

despite their doubts, kazuha kept proving them wrong. she adjusted to yn’s quirks effortlessly, from keeping up with her endless rambling to understanding her unspoken need for someone to hold her bag when she was too busy doing whatever she thinks is more important.

and it just kept getting better for kazuha every day and today was proof of that, after their live show. they walked off set, yn was her usual bubbly self, chatting about how the lighting on stage was “pink perfection” today. kazuha walked beside her, smiling softly at her excitement.

just as they reached the hallway, yn suddenly stopped and turned to kazuha. “oh, by the way, this has been on my mind a lot lately.” she said casually, like she was commenting on the weather, “i’m not really into girls, but you’re really cute, like I would definitely date you.”

kazuha froze in her tracks, her eyes wide as she tried to process what yn had just said.

meanwhile, yn didn’t even seem phased. she flashed kazuha a bright smile, waved, and walked off toward her dressing room like she hadn’t just dropped a bomb.

kazuha stood there, stunned, her heart pounding in her chest.

“did she just...” kazuha whispered to herself, replaying the moment in her head.

all she could do was stare after yn, who disappeared behind her dressing room door with the same dramatic flair she did everything else.

[bbsmuts]

Summer Getaway ft. EVERGLOW Yiren

A/N: This is a pitch I got from a friend outside of Tumblr, and it took me a long time to write since I’ve been working and planning the wedding, sorry about that. I have no doubt that this will become second-to if not more popular than Field Trip. I don’t have a lot to say about it so as not to spoil anything, so here we go. 

-상훈

Length: 7.33k

Possible TW: Spanking, dom/sub kink

Tags: Spanking, choking, domination, dom/sub kink, drunk sex, sir kink

It had been a long senior year at Hanyang University. Very, very long.

With a major in psychology, a minor in health studies, and a hopeless career path, classes had been hard. I hadn’t even had my best friend, Yiren, in classes with me.

Yiren and I were more than friends. We had been dating for a little more than nine months, but she was still my best friend. She was not only exactly the type of girl I was interested in, but the exact type of friend I wanted to keep close. It had been with great disappointment that I had found out that my girlfriend would not be in classes with me at the beginning of the year. She would have been the only way psychology would be in any way interesting. 

But now the year was over. A buddy of mine had offered me and Yiren his mountain cabin for the summer. He wasn’t going to be using it, he and his family were on vacation, so he would be touring Europe with his parents and sister.

The cabin, we found out when we arrived there, was a palatial, stone brick château with three stories and a balcony on the second. The balcony overhung the door, two large stone pillars supporting the structure. It had an very antiquated feel to it, though the sound structure still held up. My friend had told me it was over 200 years old, which I believed from the look of it. Whether it was 2 years old or 2000 though, I was happy to be here.

“It looks nice, doesn’t it oppa?” Yiren asked, arms wrapped around my arm, as we stood there and surveyed the cabin.

“Yeah, it does. Old, but very nice.”

“Three stories…wow.” She marveled at the sheer height of the place. “That's more than my house has. Come on, let's go inside.”

I slid the key into the lock and turned it, opening the door to reveal the interior. 

It gave a very cozy, log-cabin-ish vibe. The blinds were shut, allowing very little daylight in. The lamps had turned on the moment we entered, dimming slightly once we shut the door. Plush rugs covered just about every square inch of the vast living room, where soft chintz armchairs and smooth leather couches sat, pillows arranged invitingly. The fireplace could have allowed three grown men ample sitting space, and the overhanging limestone mantle was decorated with ornate wood carvings. Mounted on the wall just above the mantle was the biggest TV I had ever seen, at least 85 inches across. 

To the left of the fireplace was a bathroom, through the open door of which I caught a glimpse of a gold-rimmed mirror.

The rather titanic kitchen was a chef’s dream; the walls were bedecked with cabinets, drawers, and shelves full of cooking equipment. Two large ovens with stovetops sat alongside a dishwasher, and on top of its counter were a couple of microwave ovens. A kettle, coffee maker, waffle iron, iron griddle, and a shelf of teas, coffees, hot chocolates and various other drink mixes sat along another. Four more long shelves along the opposite wall held just about every kind of alcohol I could have asked for; bottles of whiskey, vodka, rum, gin, various liqueurs (fruit flavors like coconut and orange), tequila, port, Hennessy, and margarita sat assorted on them. Another, smaller shelf held cooking sherry, brandy, and bourbon. A wine rack nearby held several bottles and, I was surprised to see, one bottle each of Petrus 2012 (costs about $30k in real life), Armand Rousseau Chambertin Grand Cru ($19k), Versos Amontillado ($13k) and Vieux Chateau Certan Pomerol ($6k).

“Wow,” I said, taking out the Petrus and examining it. “I guess his family is richer than we thought.”

“What makes you say that?” Yiren asked while looking at the coconut liqueur. 

“The fact that they have a bottle of wine in here that costs about thirty thousand dollars, and a few other expensive ones.”

“Huh, make sense.”

After looking into the pantry, which was the size of a walk-in closet and had enough food to feed a small town, we made our way to the staircase to upstairs. Six bedrooms took up this floor. We went straight to the master, which was as large as a neighborhood cul-de-sac.

The bed’s size could be compared to that of a midieval portcullis, with a deluxe king size mattress and nightstands on either side. A few dozen pillows were laid delicately across it, each with its own gold-laced pillowcase. An intricately carved wooden frame with a canopy structure and drapes held up the mattress. A pair of French doors were built in on the opposite wall from the door, which led out to the balcony, which spanned about twenty feet. Gorgeous scenery was what I laid my eyes on when I looked through the doors, a great view of the surrounding mountains and forest. The bathroom was off to the left from the entrance and Yiren made a beeline for it the moment we entered the room.

I followed her inside and was stunned. The same gold-framed mirror stretched across the wall, with three sinks and a vanity under it. White LEDs rimmed it, lighting up the bathroom when Yiren walked in. 

“Oooh!” She squealed, looking around excitedly. I knew well by this point that the bathroom was her favorite and most valued part of a house, so it was always what she looked at with the most judgement. But she found nothing to criticize about this one, and looked very pleased to have access to it for the next two months.

“Like it?” I inquired, amused at her expression. “I’d say it’s pretty impressive.”

“Tell your friend I love it!” She said, positively radiating joy and excitement. “This is amazing!”

She ran to me and hugged me, then went to look around again.

I took a look into one of the drawers below the mirror and saw a vast array of hair and skin care products, no wonder my friend had good skin and hair.

Beyond the mirror space, there was the tub, which she was already scrutinizing. It held the same old feel with the weathered stone slabs making up the rim, but the pristinely white jacuzzi tub looked like it had been crafted yesterday. Bordering the bathtub was a large glass shower, with a rainfall showerhead on the ceiling and a nozzle clipped to the wall just below it, with multiple different kinds of shampoo, body wash, shower gel, and conditioner. A closet was off to the left of the door into the room, and after appraising the tub and shower we made our way to it. It was as big as the kitchen downstairs, and that was saying something. Multiple racks full of clothes were set into their pole grooves, and several racks of shoes rested on the floor. They weren’t ours, so we didn’t mess with them.

The floor above that was just one enormous game room. Pool, air hockey, foosball, mini golf, and several others were strewn around. A walled-off area seemed to be designated to archery and airsoft target practice, something I approved of. Another bathroom was at the far end, something I didn’t need to explore again. After looking around for a bit, we went back to my car to unload our baggage.

The cabin was about ten miles from any kind of civilization, which made for a nice and secluded area for a summer getaway, but it would be a bit of a pain in the ass driving back and forth through the unpaved roadway to the nearest town. But we had brought food, and there was food in the house, so we were fine for the time being.

“Oppa?”

I heard Yiren’s voice call from upstairs a while later.

“Yeah?” I called back.

“Are you up for a hike? I hear they have great trails up here.”

“Sure, I’m down.”

I got up off the couch and went up there to see her.

“You did bring the hiking boots, didn’t you?” She asked, seeing me upstairs.

“Yes, of course. We can’t go to a mountain lodge without hiking boots.”

“True. Hold on for a minute, I have to change.”

She disappeared into the master bedroom and the sounds of rustling clothes could be heard from inside. I leaned my head over a bit to see past the doorway and found her raised eyebrows staring back at me while she slipped off her jeans, taking her panties with them.

“Peeping, oppa?” Her playful voice sounded as she turned away to her bag, and I would have challenged a Buckingham Palace guard not to look as she bent over slightly to retrieve her leggings.

I walked slowly into the room where she was rummaging in her suitcase and stopped behind her as she straightened up, leggings in hand, and placed my hands on her waist. She leaned backwards into my touch and sighed as I stroked her hips. 

“Oppa, don’t tease me…”

I paid this no attention and moved my hands lower, sliding my palms over her naked thighs. 

“Stop it, we’re going to hike, wait until later.”

Reluctantly, I paid her some heed and went to the dresser to get my bag and keys while she got dressed. And thus, a few short minutes of driving later, we arrived at the entrance to the trail.

…

The trail was nice and peaceful, with flat paths and beautiful scenery. It was rather tranquil, with the occasional squirrel or chipmunk darting across the rocky path in front of us. But of course, Yiren couldn’t let me enjoy the little things like that, she had to wear something skintight on both halves, and had to walk in front of me, which distracted me from any of the scenery.

So it was with slightly exerted legs and a straining bulge that I completed the trail, a fact Yiren was perfectly aware of. 

Mind almost numb with lust by the time we got back into the care due to her deliberately dropping her phone and bending over to pick it up, I started the engine of my car and drove away toward the cabin.

I was again surprised by its immense size even though I had seen it an hour previously. We walked to the door, unlocked and opened it, and that was as much time as Yiren needed to latch onto me the moment I closed the door.

I turned around from the door and she was instantly there, wrapping her arms around my head and pulling me into a deep kiss. A moan sounded from her as my tongue sought entrance into her mouth, and I pulled her by the hips closer, so she could feel the bulge in my jeans. She started grinding herself against it, still kissing me with intense passion. 

I half-carried her up the stairs to the bedroom and set her down on the mattress, where she laid on her back with her legs spread enticingly, eyes glittering with lust.

After shutting the drapes around the bed, I removed my shirt and saw her bite her lip at the sight of me shirtless, a fact I took heed of and tossed my shirt elsewhere, settling my hips between her thighs. I made sure she could acutely feel the tent in my pants against her, and she definitely did feel it.

Her breaths became shorter and more frequent, a sure sign of growing neediness. Her hips started moving of their own accord, grinding up against me. I felt this and got off her.

I hooked my thumbs under the waistbands of my jeans and boxers and pulled them off, finally freeing my cock from its denim prison, while she quickly removed her own clothes in my peripheral vision. She looked at me once I straightened up, bit her lip again, and her hand sneaked along her waist towards her pussy.

I was amazed for the millionth time by the fact that she had a body like a Greek goddess. To verbally describe the intensity of the lust her body induced would have been impossible.

I stepped forward and grabbed her hand, tearing it away from her leaking pussy, replacing the fingers with my tongue.

Her reaction was immediate. Her hands shot to my head and pulled, and she gave a short cry every time my tongue penetrated her. I targeted the spots I knew would pleasure her the most.

“Yes, fuck!” Her mouth was wide open and she was taking shallow breaths, giving short moans and gasps on the exhale. “Yes, don’t stop oppa it feels so good!”

I pressed by thumb to her clit while I continued the circular swiping motion with my tongue, which was quite effective to say the least. Her cries became sharper, her breaths more shallow, all building up to her climax. 

“I’m gonna cum oppa, keep going, I’m cumming! AHH!” 

How turned on I was could not have been described in words as her juices gushed out, into my mouth, and over my face. Her hands trembled as they clutched at my hair, and she had a small out-of-body experience as the pleasure of a second orgasm briefly took her to another realm of consciousness. I was in heaven right along with her, nothing was more satisfying that pleasuring her to an orgasm. 

When she came back to earth I had gotten up, dried my face, and laid down on the bed beside her. The section of sheet under her lower half was soaked, as were her thighs and pussy. Her eyes were unfocused and dreamy, her chest heaved while her extremities still trembled. 

“Oppa…”

She had turned her head towards me and I could almost see the hearts in her eyes as she looked at me.

“That was…so good…”

She spoke each phrase between breaths. If she thought what I had just done effortlessly was good, she had yet to feel what would happen when I was pounding her and completely abandoning any restraint.

I turned myself towards her and put my arms around her, though the effect was kind of ruined by my stiff cock poking her in the thigh, which made her giggle. She turned over and maneuvered down between my legs, placing her hands on my thighs as she stared fixedly at my length like a lion looks at its dinner, and I could tell she was about to go to town.

“I’m really hungry oppa,” she purred deviously, each word laced with teasing, while her hands performed slow strokes over my length, “I think I need to be fed, hmm?”

I took the cue and grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her lips down over my cock, and then everything else disappeared. Her lips parted and then slid smoothly over my shaft, a fresh coat of saliva washing over me. 

“Fuuuck,” I groaned, unable to contain the immediate pleasure that filled me. “Fuck Yiren, that feels amazing!”

Each bob of her head made its way closer to my base, and she got a little more than three quarters before she started gagging. She moaned, gasped, gagged, and choked, but she didn’t give herself a break, even for a moment. She was hungry, and I was the only thing that could sate her appetite. Hearing my moans, she upped her speed. Her tongue slid over the underside of my cock, stretching out to flick my balls, while she forced her own head further down on me. My entire length was lodged inside her mouth and throat, and I felt myself very quickly nearing a climax. 

“You’re going to make me cum,” I panted, getting even more turned on by her moans and  small ‘mmm’s of satisfaction. “I’m gonna fucking cum down your throat, keep doing that!”

She took heed of this and slid her head all the way down my cock once more and held there, and with an almighty groan and a bed-rattling thrust of my hips I buried myself in her throat and spurted my load down it, a fact she was very pleased with. She bobbed her head rapidly, throating my cock a final few times and swallowing every single drop. And she couldn’t resist holding her head down on my now hypersensitive rod for another few seconds, simply loving the feeling of having her throat penetrated.

I lost count of the seconds she held herself there, I wasn’t really paying attention. Twenty, thirty, forty, somewhere around forty-five I lost count, and then she pulled up, dislodging me from her mouth and gasping for some much-needed oxygen, though her face showed pure enjoyment.

She dragged herself up the bed and settled next to me, sighing contentedly.

“I love you oppa.”

I drew her closer under the thoroughly stained blanket with one arm, using the other to run my fingers through her hair. 

“I love you too, Yiren. Always.”

I could practically hear her purring as the warmth from my body emanated off me, and she snuggled in close, planting a small kiss on my jaw. I turned my head to receive and respond to her second kiss, and put my hand around her head.

Before I knew it, she was on top of me and we were kissing passionately, soft moans leaving her mouth as our tongues met. I found my cock returning to full life, and she most assuredly did, since her already-wet pussy was handily positioned right above it. 

I flipped her over and pressed myself down on her. My tip rubbed against her sensitive folds, causing her to give tiny sighs of pleasure.

And then I pushed into her tight warmth. The insane tightness of her walls squeezing every part of my shaft was making me see stars, and there was quite a lot of resistance as I determinedly pushed inside her. 

She moaned as I bottomed out inside her, my tip brushing spots inside her that I didn’t even know existed at that depth. 

“Fuck me oppa.”

That was my cue to begin my thrusts, quickly increasing the speed and intensity of them. I landed a slap on her jiggling ass and immediately her pussy clenched around me and she cried out. I timed my spanks with each thrust of my hips, and her various obscenities also fell in rhythm.

“Oh - god - fuck - yes!” She said, each word coming out in time with the spanks. “Feels - so - good - fuck!”

I took her ponytail in my hand and pulled back, forcing her face up, her moans becoming higher in pitch at my pulling. Her back bent up so she was almost kneeling as I fucked her, and with my other hand I paused the spanks and reached around to squeeze her breasts, only heightening her arousal. Her hands gripped the hand caressing her chest.

“Please oppa, fuck me harder,” Yiren half-whispered, which I knew to be a sign that she was nearing an orgasm. “Your cock is so deep in me, it feels so good!”

I did as she asked and fucked her harder, abandoning all restraint as I slammed my hips into hers, the sounds of skin on skin getting louder as my hips met her ass. It was becoming difficult to resist the hypnotic jiggle of her ass and the way her pussy was exquisitely gripping my cock, massaging as I pistoned in and out. I was about to cum, as I realized it, and there was nothing I could do about that now.

And then, before I knew it:

“So fucking good, yes! Fuck oppa I’m cumming, FUCK!”

“Shit, I’m cumming as well, fucking take it all!”

We met our orgasms at the same time, sharing that moment of bliss together. Her juices splattered my legs as they sprayed out, accompanied by her scream of pleasure, always reserved for just such a moment of satisfaction. The feeling was pervading up my entire body, immense pleasure before my actual release. Yiren gasped twice and moaned quietly at the deluge of hot cum that flooded her tight pussy. I kept fucking her at a slower pace, now the only things audible were the wet slaps of our skin and her occasional murmured expressions, as she rested somewhere between this bed and heaven itself.

“So good…feels so…feels so good…ohh yes just like that…”

I got the impression from what she was saying that she was very near unconsciousness. It wouldn’t surprise me, since she had just had a very intense orgasm. I pulled out of her with a lewd squelch and a large quantity of cum rushed out of her. 

“Ahhh…ohh yes…I love you oppa…”

I settled in front of her as she flopped over onto her side, breathing very heavily. I rubbed her back as she moved close, nimbly stroking all the spots I knew she loved, and she purred into my neck.

“I love you too, baby.”

…

I got up a while later, put on my clothes, and after giving the half-asleep Yiren a kiss, I went up to the kitchen to start preparing dinner. It was a quality that especially attracted her to me, the fact that I could cook, and well. She always said that a man who could cook was a man who wouldn’t have trouble finding women.

Jjajangmyeon was a personal favorite of both of ours, and so it was what I started making. I was nearly finished when the sound of the bedroom door opening sounded behind me and she entered the room wrapped in a blanket, yawning.

“Did you sleep?” I asked, industriously stirring the noodles. 

“Yes.” She yawned again. “For a little bit.”

“Good,” I replied, “because you’re not going to be doing much of it tonight.”

She giggled and peered into the pot.

“Jjajangmyeon?”

“Indeed.” I put the spatula down and turned to her. “Just how we both like it.”

She hugged me, the top of her head barely brushing my chin.

“Aww oppa you didn’t have to, I could have done it.”

I put my arms around her shoulders and pulled her into a tighter embrace.

“I know. That’s why I’m doing it.”

Yiren hugged me tighter and buried her face in my shirt, and I could feel her smile against my chest.

“I love it when you do this.”

Her words warmed my heart, and I smiled as well. 

“I do it all the time, you’d think some of the novelty would be lost.

She snorted. “Well, it hasn’t.”

I turned back to the wok and stirred my stir fry, my arm still around her shoulders. 

“What do you say we pop open some of that Hennessy after dinner?”

“Sounds good to me. That stuff hits hard, though.”

“Precisely.” I said. “We might not even have to use a lot.” 

“That looks like it’s done.” She said, nodding at the pot of noodles.

“I’m aware.” I replied. “Would you get out the bowls?”

She got out the bowls and two pairs of chopsticks as I turned off the fire on the stovetop. I dragged the noodles out of the pot and into the bowls and spooned the sauce onto them. She took them to the table and set up two chairs across from each other while I got out a bottle of choice Pinot Noir from the rack along with two glasses.

“Wow, you really are trying to get drunk, aren’t you?” She raised her eyebrows.

“Not really, but I’m not trying not to, if you catch my drift.”

She just smirked, absolutely catching my drift and knowing the outcome. I sat down after pouring the wine and setting the glasses down in our places.

Dinner passed quickly. The bowls had been cleared fairly quickly. I had sipped my wine away already, but Yiren always left hers to sit out for a while, the reason for which I never knew.

By the time she picked her glass back up I had poured myself some water as a beforehand countermeasure to the many measures of Hennessy we would be sharing. 

While I was thinking about it I got up and grabbed the bottle of Hennessy, setting it down on the table.

“Cheers,” she said happily, raising her glass. I raised mine and then drank from it as she followed suit. 

“Good choice.” She said, after a moment of consideration. “Very nice hints of different flavors.”

“I know,” I said, taking another mouthful of water. “Pinot Noir is always good. But my friend imports his wine from places France and Spain and Italy, places which do wine the right way.”

“Speaking of your friend, where is he on vacation?”

“In Switzerland right now, but in a few days he’ll be somewhere else in Europe, I don’t know. I’d have to ask him.”

She took another small sip of wine before speaking again. 

“Well, I can truthfully say that there’s no place I’d rather be then right here with you.”

She leaned across the small table and poked me in the chest, a playful smile gracing her lips. I caught her hand before she could draw it away and pulled her into a kiss. Her body seemed to relax into it, and a slightly muffled sigh was audible. When we broke the kiss off and sat back down, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were alive with desire.

“Damn, we haven’t even started drinking yet and you’re already losing it.”

Yiren blushed harder at my sentence. She said nothing, but something changed in her expression. She got up from her seat, abandoning her wine, and strode around the table to me. The next thing I knew, she was sitting in my lap, hands pulling my face towards hers. She moaned as her lips locked with mine, tongue entering my mouth, meeting with my own.

She pulled away, looking at me with the dim-ish light dancing in her eyes, a deep blush spread across her cheeks. 

“How about that Hennessy now, huh?” She said.

I reached for the bottle and unscrewed the top, as she turned to the side. I took a healthy swig of it myself before reaching for the shotglasses. The alcohol burned in my throat as it went down and I took a deep breath in.

We both downed a shot together. She coughed and winced as she swallowed, but nodded when I looked concernedly at her.

"I'm alright."

She reached for her second shot and swallowed it with me.

"How quick does this stuff kick in?" She asked as the glasses were once again refilled.

"Quickly."

After successfully downing three shots and of the liquor, we sat back and waited on the couch. I had made the mistake of impatience while drinking once before, and it was not going to happen again.

And then it hit.

And when it hit, it hit hard.

"Whoa," I slurred as the room started spinning before my eyes, "Yiren, you feeling it?"

She gave a tipsy giggle and fell forward, still laughing.

"I dunno, I've never been drunk bfore..."

Through the haze of drunken stupor I was seeing, I looked down and saw her ass, so sexy and perfectly positioned...she was even bent over my lap, too...I had no chance of resisting the urge.

"Ah!" She yelped as I slapped her ass, then giggled again. "Oppa..."

"More..."

I gladly complied, landing more punishing smacks on her ass. With each spank she tensed and gave a small, cute cry.

Normally my dominant side stayed at a minimum, but I had to admit to myself that in my drunk state it was starting to take over my brain. I found myself increasing the intensity of my smacks and taking pleasure in it, causing her cries to rise in volume quickly.

"Nngh yes, keep spanking me oppa!" She whimpered, swiftly approaching her peak. "Ah! Fuck yes, keep doing that!"

I kept spanking her and reached around to caress her breast with my other hand. Her moans kept building until finally she orgasmed with a squeal, the crotch of her shorts becoming very wet.

Yiren took quick, shallow breaths to calm down after cumming, and when she had sufficiently recovered she rolled over on my legs to face me.

"That was fun oppa, we should go to the bedroom."

I blinked hard. "Shit, I dunno if I can walk."

She scoffed. "Come on, let's go."

I clumsily got up off the couch and weaved my way up the stairs and to the bedroom, stumbling three times on the way there. I dimmed the lights as I entered, then fell forward onto the bed, rolling over and scooting up to let my head rest on the pillow. My shirt was going to be an unnecessary accessory once she got up here, so I removed it and tossed it aside.

She entered the bed and slid the drapes shut behind her, wearing only her soaked shorts, panties, and a bra. I was already hard from the light spanking I had given her, but the mere sight of her sexy, half-naked body was enough to double my stiffness.

She clambered across the bed and straddled me, leaning down to kiss me. I accepted it only for a second, then gripped her hips and rolled over, so I was on top.

I kissed her more aggressively now, pressing my tongue against her lips to gain entry. She eventually gave in, but we both knew she was tantalizing herself by holding out, she wanted me. She gave a tiny sigh of pleasure.

I broke off the kiss and left her blushing and panting, eyes sparkling.

"God, you're so sexy when you're drunk." She murmured to me, holding my face with both hands.

"Really?" I said, locking eyes with her. "Then maybe I should do it more often."

Normally and drunkenly, Yiren's submissive side stayed at a minimum. It balanced with her enjoyment of being in control for a pretty neutral attitude. But I could see in her deep brown eyes a need. Whether she could feel it or not, I could tell that she needed to be dominated, badly.

"Hello?" Her voice said from a long way off, the sound trying desperately to be heard over the pounding of my own heart in my ears. "You gonna do something? Or will I have to do it myself?"

She was baiting me, and I knew it. Trying to spur me into fucking her. But it wasn't going to happen yet.

"Yeah, I'm gonna do something." I growled. "And you're gonna take it, like it or not."

A shudder ran through her at my words, but she maintained her cocky, playful attitude.

"Ooh, he's getting feisty. Someone's a little drunk."

I could feel annoyance rising at her words, which was exactly what she wanted, of course. She observed me with satisfaction.

"Okay, that's it." I got off her, opened the drapes, and stood up, removing my jeans and boxers. She automatically got off the bed and knelt in front of me as I sat on the edge of it, knowing my intention. I wasted no time in grabbing her hair and forming it into a ponytail in my hand, grasping none too lightly. She gasped at my sudden roughness, and I used the opportunity of her mouth already being open to shove my cock into it.

She choked as my tip poked the back of her throat, but didn't resist as I slowly pushed further in, bringing her face to the base. She gagged, and I pulled her head back by the ponytail before slamming my hips into it again, driving my length down her throat. Over and over I brought her face back before plunging it back down, spearing her throat with my cock.

Tears gathered in her eyes when she choked, gagging obscenely on my dick. After a bit she started moving by herself, her neck on autopilot, ramming her face into my crotch. Saliva spilled down her face and dripped off her messy chin to her bra-clad breasts below. Light mascara streaks tracked down her face, joining the mess at her lips.

Yiren brought her head down one more time and held it there for a second, a choking sound resounding, before pulling off, gasping and breathing heavily. She looked at me, panting, and I felt the promise of an orgasm drifting away.

"Why'd you stop?"

"I want you to cum inside me."

I reached forward and lifted her onto the bed, setting her down none too gently on her back. I held my hand on her throat, choking her, not enough to cause damage.

She caught her breath at the rough treatment, clearly turned on. But I wasn't going to hold off on that domination.

"You want?" I breathed into her face, her pupils dilating in arousal. "Maybe you need a reminder of who's in charge."

She said nothing, but I could see a subtle change in her expression. I grabbed the waistband of her shorts and panties and pulled them over her slender legs and off her feet. Her pussy was already soaked and shining with arousal.

Yiren, still keeping up her cocky demeanor, gave a huge fake yawn and smirked cheekily. I narrowed my eyes and then reached up and tore the bra off her, making her yelp. However overweening she was acting, I could see in her face a desire to be dominated. And that was a desire I was more than willing to satisfy.

I crawled forward, lifted her legs up, and sheathed myself to the root inside her tight, wet pussy. "Fuck!" She cried out as I pushed into her. She moaned and gasped when I bottomed out inside her, firmly prodding her cervix. Her quick, high-pitched breaths heightened my arousal.

My brain was far too cloudy to control my desire, so my thrusts were fast and rough. I relentlessly pounded her, not holding back a bit and not sorry at all. I gave her ass quick smacks randomly every few thrusts, making her yelp every single time.

Her brows contracted and turned up, and her mouth stayed slightly open, her face falling into that angelic expression of bliss that never failed to make me shiver in pleasure myself.

"Oh - fuck - yes - harder - please!" She whimpered in time with my strokes. I lowered my face to her ear.

"Now remind me," I growled, her moans filling my own ears, "who's in charge?"

She barely managed to get the words out inbetween her cries. "You oppa! You're in charge! I belong to you!"

I gave her ass a hard slap, somewhat dissatisfied with her answer. "Then say it right, slut."

"I'm yours, sir!" She cried again, "I belong to you only!"

"Good girl." I said in a low voice, and I felt her shiver under me. I slowed my thrusts to a calmer pace, more to tantalize her than anything else. She was near an orgasm, I could tell, so I kept the strokes at a steady pace with a lot of force.

"Sir, please," She begged, her juices leaking out around me, clearly turned on by my dominance, "Fuck me harder, make me cum for you." Cleverly worded so as to make it like this was for me, not for her. I was not, even in my drunk-as-fuck state, going to fall for that.

"Why would I do that?" I said to her dismay, evilly grinning. "You were such a bad girl earlier, why should I reward you?"

"I'm sorry, sir!" She said breathlessly, her eyes full of desperation. "I'm sorry I was bad! Please, sir, fuck me and make me cum!"

I couldn't really help but give in, since my libido was screaming at me. So I picked up the pace and resumed my uncontrolled plowing of her tight cunt, the resistance smoothed somewhat by the enormous amounts of slick she was producing.

With every subsequent thrust, her moans became louder snd her words dirtier as I brought her nearer to her peak.

"Mmhh yes sir, fuck me harder! It's so good, fuck! I'm gonna cum for you sir!"

I pushed myself up from my elbows and held a hand to her neck, pushing down just enough to make her enjoy it. She took a sharp breath and opened her eyes, pupils dilated.

"Shut the fuck up and take it, slut," I said, groaning despite myself.

"Yes, sir," she gasped, moaning, as I pushed deeper. "Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!"

She wasn't lying. Her voice died momentarily as her eyes rolled into her head and she bucked her hips up into me, a gush of cum spraying my abdomen. She found her voice after a second, and let out a short, loud "ah", mouth open. Her hips continued their motion seemingly independent of her pleasure-addled brain.

Her moans subsided, and an idea came to me. I reluctantly pulled out of her, a lewd squelch sounding. She lay there, unmoving, eyes open and practically heart-pupiled. I walked to the french doors leading to thr balcony and opened them, a rush of cool night air sweeping over me.

Yiren lifted her head slightly at the sudden cool draft and pushed herself up with slightly trembling arms. I went back to the bed and lifted her off it easily, then set her down on her front on the soft white couch oustide. She gave a tiny gasp as a breeze of cool air moved over her naked pussy.

"Sir...

"Fuck me again..."

I was still rock hard despite the cool air, so I climbed onto the couch with her. Her head was laying sideways towards the dark scenery, her arms were stretched out in front of her, and her ass was sticking up in the air, perfectly positioned for me to fuck.

I slid my cock back into her wet heat, drawing a languid whimper from her mouth and clenching my jaw with a groan. I started off slow, with gentle, even thrusts, Yiren moaning softly beneath me.

"Mmm fuck yes you're so deep in me oppa..."

I kicked the pace up a little and started thrusting faster and harder, quickly turning her moans to cries as I pounded her tight pussy.

"Mmhh fuck! Pound me harder please sir! Pound my little pussy! So good, fuck, yes yes please harder! So fucking big inside me, yes! Nghh oh god yes, use me, fuck!"

Her words flicking every arousal switch in my brain to 'on', I went even faster, giving it everything I had to keep pushing into her. Beads of sweat formed at my hairline at the effort. Yiren was reduced to a mewling, whimpering, moaning mess, unable to form coherent words in her pleasure. I slapped her ass hard and she cried out.

"Please - sir - harder! Oh - yes - slap me - sir!"

I spanked her harder and she arched her back, a small yelp escaping her with every thrust I gave. Pleasure was building in my lower abdomen like resistance from a compressed spring, my abs and obliques tensing in preparation.

"Yes sir, give it to me! Fuck me harder please! Nghh yes, I'm gonna - I'm gonna - fuck, I'm cumming sir!"

"Fuck!" I groaned, as she gave a particularly sexy cry that sent shivers down my spine, "Yiren baby I'm gonna fucking cum!"

"Yes - please - sir!" She managed through her high-pitched whines of bliss. This, combined with her usage of "sir", was all the initiative I needed to cum inside her.

"Oh my god yes, FUCK!" I almost roared, slamming my hips into hers one last time, burying my cock so deep inside her that it touched her cervix again and blasting her insides with hot cum. My release triggered hers, and she orgasmed again with a scream, spraying her cum out onto me.

I rolled over and off her, sliding out to let a large amount of cum come spilling out of her. She gave another soft moan and then rolled over to face me. I pulled her closer and her face and body were very hot despite the 6°C temperature outside.

"So good... oppa I love you..."

"I love you too, baby."

...

I must have fallen asleep, since when I awoke it was about 8 o'clock in the morning, judging by the sun's position. Yiren was snoozing peacefully beside me. As I slowly returned to a waking state I realized that I was stiffer than a wood plank again. Yiren's sleeping body was looking incredibly sexy, and I was entirely unable to control my sudden desire. I pulled her closer to me and pushed into her again, quietly groaning. She gave a soft moan in her sleep. I started very slowly, but even this was enough to stir her from her slumber. She breathed in deeply and shifted slightly, and I continued my thrusts, making her whine faintly. She steadily returned to conciousness, moaning more and tightening around me.

"Oppa?"

"Yes, baby," I groaned through gritted teeth, listening to her soft mewls of satisfaction. "Oh, fuck..."

Her eyes opened partially, looking lazily out at the trees, and then they closed and her eyebrows contracted upwards as I reached around and started rubbing her clit, making her gasp and whimper.

"A-ah...oh yes, k-keep doing that..."

Her head leaned back into my collarbone and I could smell vanilla in her soft hair. I grabbed her hips and slammed mine into them, driving my cock deep inside her and making her cry a loud "ah".

"Ohh yes yes yes, please keep going, I'm gonna fucking cum again, don't stop oppa!"

I reached and put my hand around her slim neck, squeezing lightly, just enough to give her the sensation I knew she liked. Her intonations of pleasure became unintelligible.

"Yes - fuck - harder - oppa - mmm yes - so good!"

"Fuck, you like that baby?" I squeezed her neck harder.

"Ah! Yes, sir! I love it! Fuck my little pussy harder! Use me! Your cock is so big, so deep inside me sir!"

"Yiren, I'm gonna cum baby," I gasped, moaning in her ear, and I felt her shiver in arousal under me.

"Cum inside me, sir," Yiren panted, arching her back into me. Her hands went to her own breasts, squeezing and massaging, pleasuring her to greater heights. Her eyes closed once more and she let out a shriek of pleasure and a long moan as sbe squirted on me again, arms and legs trembling uncontrollably as her mind whited out.

I briefly lost touch with reality as my own mind was flooded with sensation and I released inside her again. My body shuddered in pleasure and I let out a few swears through gritted teeth, thrusting my way through my orgasm. Yiren gasped and moaned throughout it, loving the feeling of warmth pouring into her.

My muscles relaxed, and I slipped out of her as we both settled down again, panting and satisfied. It was a few minutes before she spoke again.

"Oppa?"

"Yiren, baby?"

She sighed contentedly. "I love you."

"I love you too." I replied, planting a row of kisses on her neck.

"You know what I think oppa?"

"What's that, babe?"

She turned over and faced me, a devilish smirk twisting her lips.

"I think it's gonna be a really fun summer."