#that crush has not faded one bit since the first time he told that story

[javelinbk]

Paul McCartney tells the same anecdote for 60 years, #37925

[merthosus]

Callous drunk

rtcs-stuff hat gefragt:

Hi love, I couldn’t directly find if your requests are open but if so, would you want to write a smutty Tangerine fic where they end up drunk after a mission and some sexual desires come rushing to the surface?💕

„This whole thing is so fucked up!”, I scream in tangerines direction, without earning the tiniest bit of attention. “You should have seen his whining face, how the life faded out his eyes, as he begged me to let him live”, Tangerine chuckles. He looks at me when he noticed, that I wasn’t laughing with him. “Ou come on you killjoy the mission is over, what crushed your good mood?”, he asks me with a straight face. My arms are resting on my knees and my head is hanging low. Every little nerve in my body is tense and my limbs are shaking. I dig my fingers into my jeans to stop the constant shivering.

It was the first mission on a bullet train and I promised to myself, that this would also be the last. “I can’t get those pictures out of my head!”, I say and grab the sides of my head. “You are working ten years now in the commission, what could have been so bad, that it shocked you this much?” tangerine asks. My Order was to kill a mass murderer, so I did, successfully. He was traveling in the train with us, waiting to get back home. “I was trying to find him tan and I did”, I whisper to him.

Tangerine stands up from his crouching position and stands in front of me as he listens to my story. “The client told me to kill him in first sight, so no big harm could have been done”, I shutter. Tangerine pinches his eyebrows together and waits for me to continue. “He was in the kids wagon, tan”, my words disappear into the quiet sounds of my painful sobs. “Oh god”, Tangerine whispers. “I killed him in front of them”, I say him, now in a louder tone. I am trying to hold everything together while looking into his face, with watering eyes.

“No we are not-”, I try to stop him while letting my head fall to my shoulder. But he interrupts me with a little shush. I smile at him as he goes on one knee before me and shows me the bottle. He is still taller than me and covers the light behind him, coming from a broken lightbulb. He changes into a darker tone and presents me the bottle like a waiter with a hand behind his back. “Madame, I have no fucking idea which expensive liquid this bottle contains, but I will promise you, this will take your mind out of other things”, he says like a supplier which tries to sell me some overpriced alcohol. I smile at his attempt to distract me.

His lips turn into a proud smile, as he noticed that his attempt succeeded. “Got cha”, he says before he turns to search for two shot glasses. As he found some, he stumbled back to me and lets his back slide down right beside me. He pushes one shot glass into my hand and pours some of the liquid into my glass. Even though I didn’t know what was in it I could tell as soon as the liquid touched the tip of my tongue. “Fuck, this is vodka”, I say as I try to not spit it out again. “You better get used to it, we are not allowed to leave the train the whole night”, he says.

“The corpse of the target is need to be protected”, he mocks the client, who got us the order. I laugh and drown the disgusting fluid. Tangerine wastes no time to pour me in another one. It has been years since I drank with a friend, my job has been my first priority for the last years. There never was much time for friends in my life, so doing this now with Tangerine feels kind of good. Tangerine must feel the same. Shot for stilt I slowly begin to forget the rotting corpse in the wagon next to us and I begin to only focus on Tangerines voice.

We are currently in a very intense game of ‘two truths, one lie’ and I am telling Tangerine about the time I once tried to put a fork into my power outlet. “No you did not”, he says in completely disbelieve. A strand of hair is hanging now loosely from his head. His hair otherwise tightly gelled back, was now loose. “I tried to see if the rumors were true, for the record, they were”, I tell him lulling. “These are not rumors, it’s physics. How old were you?”, he asks, still trying to figure out if I was lying. “One year ago”, I tell him. “No this must be the lie, tell me the next”, he demands, while shaking his head. “Ok fine, let me think”, I tell. I look in his sleepy, half open eyes. He is still laughing at my little story.

It makes my heart flutter a little, but as fast the thought got into my head it already has left. He was so near, that I could feel his breath on my skin. Everything was heavy and moving felt like the hardest mission of my life. After the fifth shot, I stopped counting. “Ok, second! I hate your porn mustache”, I tell him while looking at him and waiting for a reaction. I tried to maintain my serious face while I wait. “Oh hell no, you love it”, he says outraged. “It looks ridiculous”, I say. He plays offended and puts a hand on his chest, like someone just shot him.

“I can tell that you are lying. I am not blind, I can see how you are looking at me”, he tells me as he gets closer. “Don’t think too much of you Pedro pascal”, I tell him while trying to contain my senses. He scoffs and lays his head drunkly on his shoulder. “You just compared me with the hottest man ever seen on television, and I should believe that you don’t like my mustache?”, he asks. “You are very self convinced, aren’t you?”, I ask. Suddenly something changes. “I am bored, let’s play something else”, he requests. “Don’t you wanna know, what the lie was?”, I ask him. “Oh honey we both know what the lie was”, he says.

“Go on, what do you wanna play?”, I ask as he pours me in another shot of vodka. I can’t explain it, but the drunker I get “Let’s play seven minutes in heaven”, he tells and suddenly I choke at the liquid in my mouth. Tangerine watches every little move I make. I look at him. “But it makes no sense we are only two”, I tell him. “I know”, he says. He grabs my cheek with his big hands and looks drunkly into my eyes. The submissiveness in his eyes in killing me. Suddenly everything gets warm and the only source of coolness are his cold rings, which are pressing onto my skin.

The last braincell which is left after all the alcohol, is telling me to stop him. Work and private life should not be compared. But the neediness between my legs is telling me to close the little gap between our lips. “But we don’t have a closet”, I whisper to him. “We don’t need a closet”, he says and lets his lips collide with mine. I whimper at the sudden contact with him. I never shared much physical contact with him. I grab his hair and try to push his face further into mine. As our saliva is mixing, I let my hand roam over his upper body. I suddenly feel his hands on my head.

He pushes me onto his lap. We both shudder as our groins collapse. “Fuck”, he huffs onto my lips. I feel my pants getting wet from his words. He nibbles at my lips like a starved man. He grabs my waist and pushes me further down at his clothed dick. I silent his moan by continuing to kiss him. Feeling him getting harder by every second Is making me loose my mind. Suddenly he pushes my head back and pulls me by my hair. He begins to suck at my sensitive skin at my throat. The only thing I can hear is his fast breath all over my heated skin and my loud whimpers.

„God you taste like heaven“, he says and licks from my collarbone um to my chin. The warmth of his tongue is wandering down to my legs, which are now trying to push him more against me. The sudden impact to his member lets him shiver. His pants somehow became like a jail to his already throbbing dick. His hands grab my waist tighter and my hands glide down to his chest. I feel his heavy breath, which is going up and down. As his Finger hits one of my ticklish spots I squirm in his hands and put more weight on him. Suddenly he stops kissing me and lets his head fall back onto the wall, a trembling moan escapes his lips. He frowns like he’s in pain but his moans and groans tell me otherwise.

The hard feeling of him against my clit, makes me rub me slightly against him. I can’t take it anymore and grab to his vest. I try to take it off but the still drunken braincells aren’t giving me control over my fingers. He helps me taking his vest off. I try to grab one of his shirt Botton but he grips my ankle. My impatience kills me so I look begging in his eyes. „Before you do that you need to tell me the truth about my moustache“, he says. I give him a look which says ‚seriously?‘.

„If you don’t let my hand go, I am gonna rip open this shirt, you are testing my patience“, I say and try to grab his shirt. But my fingertips just travel down his stomach. As a revenge I move around and try to apply more pressure to his clothed dick. „Mhm“, he groans. His grip on my ankle loosens and I get better access to his shirt. „Cunning“ , he whispers in my ear. I continue to take of his shirt and my hand slides under the fabric. He looks at me and I stare right back at him. "i love your moustache“, I say and his lips form into a satisfied grin. Suddenly he grabs my cheeks again and kisses me. The impact is so big that we both slowly slide down the wall. 

part 2?

[languidlotus]

QL Favorites Tag Game

I've wanted to do this one and @shortpplfedup tagged very liberally, so here we are. I tried to give some varied answers and not do all of it from the same show(s). These answers might also change depending on my mood.

Favorite Thai QL: Moonlight Chicken. A grown up queer story with layers, different generations, comments on the queer experience, and amazingly told in a gorgeous setting and with experienced, comfortable actors/pairings.

Favorite pairing: EarthMix and Jaeyoung/Sangwoo & WinTeam Actor-wise: EarthMix. Connected to my first answer, lol. They're comfortable and comforting and know what they're doing. They give strong, believable, mature performances regardless what story they're in. Moonlight Chicken and A Tale of Thousand Stars are two of only about 7 shows I've ever given 10/10 to and they are a big part of that. Character-wise: Jaeyoung/Sangwoo, Semantic Error, & WinTeam, UWMA and Between US. I had to go with two here because I like them for very similar reasons. It's the push and pull of personalities that aren't similar at all, yet the eventual realization that they blend super well and are better together than apart. Jaeyoung and Sangwoo are entertaining and funny and an exploration of what it means to be wrong about someone. (So wrong that you actually fall for the person you loathed initially.) Their story is told expertly. Meanwhile WinTeam is such a comfort to me. I think this is the first sidepairing I ever really got invested in - complete with reading fanfic before I'd even finished UWMA - and watching their story unfold in Between Us was one of the highlights of 2022 for me. They banter and fight and yet find comfort in each other. What started out as meaningless turned out to be oh so important for both their lives.

Favorite main character: Nozue, Old Fashion Cupcake. I almost went with Wen from Moonlight Chicken here, because he's good and relatable and (I am incredibly fond of Mix)... However, if I mention relatable then it has to be Nozue from OFC. I'm giving away my age here by admitting I can see myself in him. (I'm not quite that age yet, but I'm certainly not high school or university BL level...) Watching him discover himself and grow made me so happy.

Favorite side character: Milk from Choco Milk Shake. Initially I thought the premise of this show sounded ridiculous, but it turned out to be glorious and sweet and slightly painful. Just the way i like it! And obviously the cat who fell in love was my favourite one. Other faves: Tiw from My School President, RJ from My Tooth, Your Love, Sky & KaoJao from Secret Crush on You, and Tankhun from KinnPorsche.

Favorite scene in a QL: Bad Buddy. The bedroom scene where Pran finds out Pat (thinks he) has feelings for Ink. Nanon's acting still tugs at my heartstrings to this day. The quiet, pained realization in his eyes and posture. The way he hides it from Pat while tears threaten to escape because of the disappointment. You can perfectly see the hope - maybe Pat won't actually have feelings for Ink, maybe he could like Pran, maybe... - fade and make way for heartache Yeah, that will forever be one of the best.

Favorite line in a QL: Recently, the one that resonated with me the most was 'I thought you felt the same way' from La Pluie. I explained why here.

Most anticipated QL (& why): Love Upon a Time Look, I adore historical BLs - a result of me watching and loving so many cdramas - and since Bed Friend I've been 100% on board with NettJames and their chemistry. And no, not just the steamy bits. They're very good and comfortable together, have a believable tension between them, and they're just stunning people that I can't help but draw constantly. Combine this with a good story, a beautiful setting, and I already can't wait! Similarly, I am also excited about I Feel You Linger in the Air and Man Suang.

Healthiest relationship in a QL: KingUea from Bed Friend. With the exception of one scene, King was a walking green flag throughout this show. He had a lot to deal with and yet he managed incredibly well to be understanding and supportive. Both him and (especially) Uea had a lot of deep, painful issues and a lot of pressure from the outside world, yet he stayed strong and loved Uea the way he deserved to be loved even when Uea wasn't ready to let him yet. And he didn't cross any of Uea's lines! Quick nods of appreciation to WinTeam from UWMA and especially Between Us, and PluemKevin from Ghost Host, Ghost House.

Most toxic relationship in a QL: PrapaiSky, Love in the Air. I could go with TharnType or one of the KinnPorsche pairings, but honestly when I think of toxic I think of PrapaiSky. Yes, they're cute when they're actually together, but the getting there bothered me so much that I actually wrote angry posts about it. And I usually avoid talking in great length about things I dislike about shows I'm watching. It's also because TharnType and VegasPete (or even KinnPorsche and KimChay) are at least acknowledged to have toxic elements to them by their fans, whereas I've seen a lot of attempts at defending PrapaiSky. So, yeah. I could also have gone with both the pairings from Cutie Pie.

Guilty pleasure series: I Will Knock You. Is it the best series out there? No. But is it adorable and cute and something I enjoyed way more than I initially expected? Yes. (Do know that it's a BL that takes a while to actually BL. However when it does you'll adore it.)

Most underrated series: My Only 12% I thought this show was so cute and deep and it had me crying sad and happy tears. It told the story of incredibly close childhood friends who are forced apart by one of them moving abroad. When they're reunited they finally become more than just friends. Basically, 2023's favourite plotline, but done in 2022. It's also a lot deeper than it sounds. Watching one of the main characters realize he is queer and in love with his best friend was a beautiful yet torturous scene. Earth is so good and the setting was so comfortable and soft. (While telling a painful story of feeling left behind and finally recognizing your feelings.) And the pairing is adorable.

[mysteriousangels]

Solo Para (Ada/Felix/Della): Lovelace

Ada sat there shell-shocked. She felt as if her heart had stopped beating and there was nothing in her head. She stared at her pet lynx, body crushed by the trailer that they used to live in and suddenly a heartwrenching scream came from her lips. There was a stabbing pain in her head as the connection she had to Lovelace was gone. She wasn’t open about it but Ada had experimented on Lovelace in her spare time back when she was working in England. Of course, what she did to Lovelace she did to herself, and in the end, she created a telepathic link to the cat and it had also become far more intelligent than normal. 

She started to panic as she felt like a part of her was fading away and dying. This was the first time she had ever cared about a death. Ada had looked at the victims of genocide in the eye and felt nothing, even though they died because of her work and her ego. But here she was finally paying the price for her past by losing the thing she cared about the most outside of her work.

The air around her was foggy and slightly tinted blue from the toxins created by her. She didn’t mind if this was the way she would go out. She was okay with dying by her own poison because she no longer had the will to live right now. Ada closed her eyes and took in a breath when suddenly a hand grabbed her shoulder. She looked up and saw Felix Fitzherbert looking back at her with pity in his eyes.

“I know this is hard, I don’t know how you and your pet were but you can’t end your life here just because she’s gone. Plus if you die here, we’re gonna die because you’re the only one who can make the antidote and I have a little sister and my crush kinda hoping I won’t die. I don’t know about my twin 'cause I haven’t spoken to her in almost a year but that’s a can of worms we can open somewhere safe.” Felix told her and sat down beside her. He rubbed her back softly and looked around a bit worried about the air around them since they were breathing it in more and more.

“I’m not going. I can give you the instructions to make the antidote but this is where my story ends, it ends with Lovelace. Tell my parents I’m sorry, I was so focused on being better than The Jimmy Neutron and The Cindy Vortex I started playing God. I don’t regret the work I did or the millions I killed because why guilt trip myself? But I’m apologizing because of karma biting me in the ass.” She said as she started to reach out to her pet. Felix quickly grabbed her hand and turned her to face him.

“Fuck your shitty ass apology. You’re one of the worst people I have met after hearing you say that shit and I know quite a few in fact they’re my sister's friends because for some reason she decided to become besties with her bully. To each their own though, anyways I’m not letting you get out of this. Atone my living.” Felix pulled Ada to him and threw her over his shoulder. He stood up as Ada thrashed around. He was glad that both of them were weakened due to the poison because it wasn’t that hard to carry Ada while she was thrashing. But at the same time, he was weaker and that was a nuisance in this situation.

Ada thrashed around. He was glad that both of them were weakened due to the poison because it wasn’t that hard to carry Ada while she was thrashing. But at the same time, he was weaker and that was a nuisance in this situation.

Della had slipped in behind him and knocked Ada out by injecting her with a muscle relaxer and made sure that he was okay to carry her. “I’m sorry I was late and you had to deal with her alone for a bit. I had to make sure there was no one else around and that the toxins didn’t go that far. It seems like Morgiana was already here and dealt with that problem. She left a note, it had blood on it but she left it.” Della explained as she walked next to him. “You should go find your family as someone who has that power and freedom to do so.”

“And leave you to deal with your emotionally broken friend alone, what kind of guy would I be if I did that to you?” He asked joking around with her. She was right though, it was just that he was pretty stubborn and he had some idea of where Ruby was due to the tracker. He naturally assumed that she was with the Navy and was right since the tracker was moving, but he could be wrong. Along with that, he was also with her when things first went crazy so he wasn’t too worried. Then there was Diana, of course, he liked her, but he also assumed she wasn’t really worried about him and needed to fully sort out her feelings. Yes, they kissed but he wasn’t sure if she was okay with herself and her feelings on the inside. “They all need space right now and you two don’t have a lot of people to help you right now. From this past month, I learned that both of you decided to just run into death if no one watched you carefully. So here I am.”

“Here you are, Inessa was a better three musketeer than you though. She would just run into the fire with us.” Della smiled sadly.

“Been there done that.” He replied with a sigh. “We aren’t gonna die in like an hour right?”

“Nah I give it 48 to 72 hours with how much we breathed in.” She shrugged

[verybadatwriting]

The Healer

Teen!ReaderxAvengers

I think I kept it gender neutral, but if there’s a point that I fumbled it, please tell me.

This Antony is not Anthony Stark.

The powers are the same as in Graveyard 

Summary: Steve ends up in Hydra’s most secure prison.

Warnings: Injuries, past trauma, conditioning, death, torture (punches), witnessing death of a loved one,

Word count: 4,274

Gn!reader

A man was unceremoniously tossed into the cell by two huge thugs. His face met the concrete with a wet thunk. Both cage-like doors closed behind him, although the thugs stayed to taunt him longer. 

“Ой, посмотрите на маленького идеального американского мальчика.” 

(Aww, look at little perfect American boy.) One said.

“Ха! Поймав Капитана Америку, это сломить их дух.”

(Ha! Catching Captain America, this will crush their spirits.) The other replied.

The man, apparently regaining some strength, reared up and slammed into the bars. He was strong, not as strong as the gate. The guards simply laughed and waltzed away. The man continued rattling the bars.

“Let me out!” Echoed in the halls. 

“Stop.” You said, “Bitte.” He wheeled around, apparently seeing you for the first time. He quickly took a glance around the room, which consisted of the airlock-style door, two beds and one sink and toilet. You were curled up in the far corner, on your bed. He settled himself down on the empty bed.

“I’m sorry.” He said reassuringly, “I didn’t see you there.” 

“Es ist okay.” You replied.

“What?”

“Oh, sorry.” You mumbled, “You only speak English?”

“Bits and pieces of other languages.”

“I can use English, it’s fine.”

“Thank you. My name’s Steven Rogers.” He extended his hand, “What’s yours?”

“Y/n.” You shook his hand.

“Do you have a last name?”

“Of course: It’s Y/l/n.” 

“Hi Y/n. Do you have any water?”

“Not right now.” You said. Steve had a few scrapes on his hand, which you hadn’t yet let go of. He felt a warm glow in his hand, and the scratches disappeared. 

“What?” He said, “How did you do that?!”

“Oh my. They really didn’t tell you anything, did they? I can take injuries from others.” You explained.

“That is incredible.” Steve marveled.

“There’s a cost.” You said quietly. He was too amazed to register what you said.

    A few hours passed, in which Steve told you stories of SHIELD and the Avengers, a band of superheroes who he worked with. You told him your story, which was rather short. You were born, had a pretty good first two years of life in a normal family. Once your healing powers started to show, Hydra kidnapped you. You’d been stuck growing up in a prison, with only distant fading memories of something different. 

    “There was a really nice man for much of when I was little.” You recalled. “Antony and I shared a cell when I first got here. I think I was six when he was moved. After him, they placed the troublemakers with me.”

“I’m so sorry, did any of them hurt you?”

“My fellow inmates? Hurt me? Never.”

“Oh, why do you sound so sad about getting rulebreakers?” You shushed him. Footsteps carried down the hall.

    “дворовое время.” Guard’s monotonous voice rang.

    “Yay. Yard time.” You sighed unenthusiastically, “They’re not gonna let you go, since it’s your first day here, and you look ridiculously strong.” You stood up and entered the first door, swiftly closing it behind you. “See you in a bit, Captain Rogers!” 

    The guard opened the second door and you flowed with the crowd, through the corridors you knew like the back of your hand. The masses were funneled into a bottleneck where jackets were handed out. Nobody got shoes, a coat was enough to keep most from dying, so that’s what they got.

    “Good morning Y/n” the man handing out jackets said.

“Hello Antony.” You replied. Anyone could do odd jobs for the thugs to get a little good will. Occasionally he’d get an extra scoop in his dinner bowl, or he’d receive some small trinket like socks or a scrap of paper.

“Check the pocket.” He whispered. He passed you a jacket, and inside there was a note that read ‘Is it true the Captain is caught?’ Years of living here had trained you to discreetly slip it back into your pocket as you put on your coat, while acting like nothing had happened.

“Thank you, Antony. We’ll talk at the stump.” You shoved on your coat and went into the Yard. You looked forward to yard time, since you could freely talk with whomever you pleased, and you got a little bit of fresh air. Life here was a living hell, and the landscape reflected it. Desolate tundra encompassed the prison’s structures for miles on end.

Today the weather was surprisingly good. The sun peeked through the clouds occasionally, and only small flurries of snow drifted around. Like the snow, you drifted, waltzing across the scraggly grass on the frozen ground. You went to your usual spot, a tiny tree stump that wasn’t quite as cold as the ground.

 A crowd started to gather around you. Injured inmates would come to you, but only in dire situations. They knew the price of your power. They used one man’s shoulder dislocation as an excuse to collect. 

Murmurs of “Is it true?” swirled around in a multitude of languages. French, German, Spanish, Russian, Latin, and occasionally Arabic.

Most of the inmates here were enemies of Hydra, good men, from all around the globe. Some of the older prisoners were in because they prematurely found out about Hydra’s infiltration of SHIELD and opposed it. Others were there because they posed too much of a threat. All wanted to leave, none had much hope.

“Yes.” You said, making it look like you were talking about the dislocated shoulder. “He’s here. Very strong too.” You moved the arm a little, and the man winced.    

“Does he resist?” Antony, who had wandered over, asked.

“Yes.” You sighed.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ok, he doesn’t know.”

“Does he have a plan for… You know…” One of the fresher inmates said. He had a french accent, and seemed to be struggling to find the right word. Eventually he resorted to his native tongue.

“Échapper?” 

The crowd went silent. Even mentioning the word ‘escape’ could bring dire punishments.

“Not to my knowledge.” You hastily replied. You knew this was taking too long, and everyone else did too. They started to disperse, and you began to fix the man’s arm for real. Antony had relocated it twice already, but there was damage to the ligaments around it, which caused it to become dislocated very easily.

Antony relocated it for a third time, which caused the man to wince again. Immediately after, you laid your hands on it. He felt a warm glow, and his shoulder was completely healed. Your face was set in a grimace. Crouching to look eye-to-eye with you, Antony spoke.

“I need to relocate it.”

“I know, Ant.” You said, “I also know it’ll hurt.”

“The clock’s ticking. If the ligaments heal while the bones aren't in the right place, it’ll only cause you more trouble down the road.”

“Fine.” You allowed him to relocate your shoulder. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, and he secured it fairly easily.

“Thank you.” The man you healed said, “Te daré mi pan en la cena.” (I will give you my bread at dinner.) 

“What’s your name?” You asked.

“René Telesforo.”

“Only give me the bread if you can spare it.”

“I can.” He walked off.

“I’ve always wondered why you do this.” Antony said after a pause.

“Do what?”

“Continue to heal us more than they make you, even though it hurts.”

“Everyone here is nice enough.” You paused. “Plus it would take forever for something like this to heal on a normal person. Now that I’m the injured one, it should be fine in, like, an hour.”

That was the price of healing. You received the injury. Logically, it was the best way to handle it. You heal abnormally fast, and your shoulder was already feeling a bit better. 

“What’s that?” You asked, motioning to his arm. He attempted to hide it, but your powers told you it was a complex fracture with a lot of bruising.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“Liar.” You said, “Let me see.”

“No. I’ll never make you heal me again.”

“But I’m offering.”

“It’ll fix itself eventually.”

“Not on you, or at least not for a long time.”

“No.” He said, “And that’s final.”

True to his word, René gave you his chunk of bread at dinner right as you walked into the hall. They’d decided to allow the Captain into the dining hall, if only to lord his capture over the other prisoners. You assumed it was to discourage the other inmates, and it worked. Many were so disheartened at SHIELD’s loss that they neglected to eat. Naturally, others swept in to scavenge their scraps.

You and Steve were seated in the corner, and nobody was allowed to interact with him. You couldn’t really complain, at least you got to sit without being squished between a bunch of other people. 

Steve stood up, which is a huge violation of the dinnertime rules, and started addressing the room. He gave a rousing speech about how they would get out of there, and how he would personally ensure everyone’s safety, but you didn’t hear any of it. The pure dread you were experiencing drowned it out.

“Steve,” You said quietly, “Captain, please get down. The guards… They’ll…”

“It’s okay Y/n,” He said, “I can handle whatever they try.”

“No…” You whispered, “You don’t understand.” He didn’t hear you over the cheers of the inmates as he continued describing how his friends were coming to save them, now that they knew where the prison was.

In a normal prison, the guards would have stepped in once they all got riled up. Hydra has some interesting alternate methods of control. A thin man in the corner simply scribbled on a clipboard and whispered with the man next to him. The moment he did that, all the inmates sat, and extended apologies. 

Not to the guards, though. 

To you.

Steve finished his speech, and sat to finish his food. One of the goons, the scraggly one holding the clipboard, sauntered up to the food counter, and started speaking.

“All of you are aware that behavior of this kind cannot be tolerated. Since there has recently been a disturbance to our schedule,” He glanced in Steve’s direction, “We are willing to be lenient. 

“The usual punishment will be shifted to the one who inspired the behavior. Our newest arrival: Steven Rogers. Finish your meals, and then proceed to the Viewing Room.” He strolled to the door, and left. You ate quickly. Seeming very confident in himself, Steve did too. You finished before him.

“Why must you break the rules?” You asked.

“It seemed to inspire the others,” He paused, “For a bit at least. What's wrong?”

“It’s fine.” You said as the guards motioned for you to follow them.

“Nothing you can do about it anymore.” With the sleeve of your shirt you wiped your mouth and followed the directions given. Steve and you walked down the hall to a room you knew too well. It was set up like a theater, but the shows weren’t for the prisoner’s entertainment. Two chairs sat on the stage, in an auditorium-like room.

One chair had thick leather straps, it was built like it was meant to withstand the end of the world. The other was one of those flimsy folding chairs. You seated yourself in the second one. Without much complaint, the Captain was situated in the first chair.

“What now?” Steve asked. “Do we sit in complete silence for an hour?” The scrawny man glowered at you, and you in turn shot a warning glance at Steve. He took the hint and stopped talking. 

A few moments later, prisoners started streaming in and seating themselves. They were all perfectly silent. Within minutes, the room was filled and completely silent.

“We have decided that recent incidents were heavily influenced by the arrival of Steven Rogers.” The thin man spoke while standing between the two chairs up on the stage. “Thus, he shall receive the punishment. The rules broken are as follows. Speaking out of turn.”

A second guard, who had been standing behind the chairs until that point stepped forward and dealt a heavy blow to Steve’s shoulder.

“Failure to heed instructions hastily.” The scrawny guard continued and another punch whacked onto his torso.

“Attempting to start a riot.” Thud.

“Failure to return his bowl to the proper collection site.” Whack.

“Standing during dinner.” Thump.

“Failure to properly report himself at roundup.” Another punch. Steve didn’t so much as wince. You on the other hand were internally calculating how long each wound would take to heal. They continued listing tiny infractions and beating him. Every small thing made his fellow prisoners look at him with more and more disdain.

“Is that all?” Steve brazenly asked. 

“Failure to remain quiet during Example Making.” And a punch was the reply.

“Mx. Y/l/n?” The skinny thug asked with mocking respect. You scooted your chair closer to Steve’s and placed two hands on his arm. 

“Whenever you’re ready.” Skinny thug said. You nodded and began to heal Steve. Funny thing about your powers, the other person still feels some pain from the injuries, so this was a perfect form of punishment for Hydra.

It not only hurt the perpetrator, it also made everyone else hate them for causing pain to a child. On top of that, the prisoners would be less likely to trust any of Steve’s plans to escape, because their idealistic view of him would be shattered.

The strike to his abdomen was especially painful, it most likely caused some internal bleeding, and you cried out briefly before catching yourself.  The bruises barely had time to form on your skin before they were healed. 

“Remember: Resistance means injury to you and them.” This is how they ended every session. They drilled this saying into your collective heads. You were allowed to leave before Steve was. After limping back to your room, you collapsed onto the bed.

You awoke at two AM. All your physical injuries were healed. No nightmares plagued you. No unusual noises rang in the halls. Steve noticed you were awake, and that nothing specific seemed to have woken you.

“Why are-” He tried asking.

“Sh!” You hiss-whispered. He followed you to the wall of the cell, where he looked out and saw every other prisoner was doing the same. For a moment he was confused, then you pressed the button on the sink. 

“Didn’t you say it was broken?” He inquired, while the pacing guards were at the other end of the hall.

“No, I said ‘not right now.’ They do it to mess with us.” You said. “Now we all wake up at whatever time it is now, and we never get a good night's rest without getting dangerously dehydrated.” Your conversation quieted as the guards returned to this end.

The next day, they allowed Steve into The Yard with the rest of the inmates. You and Antony hung out with him. Yesterday’s Example Making made most people not want to risk contact with him.

“Steve, this is Antony.” You introduced them. “Antony, Steve. Although I’m sure you’ve already heard of him.” 

“I have, yes.” 

“Good to meet you, Antony. Y/n has told me that you two are close friends.”

“Yes, we are.” Antony smiled, “They are a wonderful person, and it sucks that they’re stuck in a place like this.”

“None of us will have to be for much longer.” Steve lowered his voice. “I managed to sneak a tracker in with me.”

“Woah…” You gasped. “How?”

“I had it implanted in my arm.”

“How long did that take?” Antony asked skeptically.

“Only half an hour.” Steve replied.

“Seems like you knew beforehand that you’d be caught.” Antony said. 

“That was the plan.” Antony and you both stared at the Captain in amazement and confusion.

“You wanted to come here?” Antony asked.

“Calm down.” Steve said, “The other Avengers and I figured that there had to be another prison somewhere. Inmate numbers never added up, and the transcripts we found kept saying high-risk inmates were ‘Transferred to’ and then a redacted name.”

“Who are the Avengers?” Antony asked.

“They’re other people with abilities like me and him.” You replied, “They and Hydra are enemies.”

“Yes, and the other Avengers are going to be here sometime today – as long as the tracker didn’t break – and we need to be ready to fight. How many of them do you think will be willing to help us?”

“At any usual prison, a small disturbance starting would be enough to set off this group.” he paused, “But with the threat of torturing Y/n hanging over us… Y/n would need to show their support before the others would even consider fighting.” The Captain contemplated for a moment.

“I won’t force you to fight, Y/n.” He said, “It would be very helpful if you showed support. I know you have immense difficulty disagreeing with these people… And I understand that you might not believe me. I won’t force you to fight, just please think about it.”

“Okay. I’ll definitely think about it.” You said, “And you’re right, I’m not 100% sure that this plan isn’t some convoluted excuse to punish us more. It could be a twisted loyalty test for all I know.” You paused. “Once I see proof, I’ll fight.”

“That’s all I ask.” Steve said, “I promise, you’ll see proof.”

Two AM came and the facility went on lockdown. Everybody managed to snag a couple sips of water before they shut it off.

“Great.” A man down the hall said, “They’re depriving us of water over a rumor.” Getting whacked over the head with the butt of a rifle quickly shut him up. That was the first sign that something was truly wrong. Not another training exercise, a real threat to this prison.

And that excited people.

Nothing seemed to happen between two and five AM. At least, not from the prisoners’ perspectives. Five rolled around, and they were woken as normal, with a bowl of gruel slid through a special grate in the bars. They spent the mornings in their cells, talking quietly. The thugs were on edge, skittish. 

Another good sign.

Yard Time came, and they were released. Antony didn't want to risk being roped in with Steve, so you two only shared a nod from across the Yard. It was just about time to go back inside when gunshots rang out. Luckily, they weren’t directed towards the prisoners. Chaos nearly broke loose, and if Steve and Antony were able to give it a little shove, it would.

A hook came over one section of the wall. One woman with bright red hair climbed over the wall and started taking down guards. Suddenly a man with – Were those wings? – soared over the wall. He dropped an armful of weapons into The Yard. 

Despite the confusion, Steve picked them up and started distributing them to Antony and a select few others who would fight even without your approval. Now the shots from the turrets were turned inwards, towards the armed prisoners.

“Y/n, get somewhere safe,” Steve said, “Unless you’ve changed your mind.” You felt rooted to the spot, like the night you’d been abducted by Hydra. Years of their torture had reminded you that it is better to never try than to try, fail, and be punished. Steve could see you weren’t okay, but he also had to fight. 

For a while you simply observed the battle unfold. Prisoners were vastly outnumbered, and scarcely any had weapons. 

You watched as they took down one guard, just for two more thugs to take his place. You watched as countless men were mowed down. You watched as more prisoners and guards swarmed out of the building. You watched as Antony took a shot to the head. 

Finally, the shock of seeing your second father-figure killed by Hydra broke something. It wasn’t a complete break, and it wasn’t a clean break, but it broke though the imposed compliance just enough for you to rally others around you to fight with whatever strength was left.

Somehow, it worked. The last push was enough to keep the battle going long enough for more of Steve’s friends to arrive. A huge aircraft with the SHIELD logo on it flew overhead, and dropped off numerous agents. Seconds later, the southern wall fell, and the prisoners started streaming out while SHIELD agents poured in.

You decided to go with the flow, and for the first time since you were two, you left the prison’s grounds. You didn’t really know what to do, and you wandered towards a jet full of injured people. 

The woman with red hair who had first scaled the wall was brought in with a deep gash in her leg. Medics were too busy with other, more serious, cases to deal with her. She was placed in the seat next to you. She must have noticed you staring.

“Trust me, it’s worse than it looks,” She said through gritted teeth.

“It has scraped the bone.” You said.

“Maybe.”

“That wasn’t a question. It did.” You glanced at her, and held up your hands. “May I take a look?”

“Feel free.” She closed her eyes in pain, still trying to keep up the facade that it didn’t hurt. “I’m Natasha by the way.”

“I’m Y/n.” You placed your hands on her leg, and the familiar warmth emanated from them. 

“Holy cow, that feels so much better.” She gasped, opening her eyes, “How…?” She saw that your leg now had an identical gash, which was healing visibly. 

“Thank you. I’m gonna fight, but I’ll be back, Y/n.”

The fight continued, and before the sun went down they had taken the prison. You had spent your time staring at nothing, trying to block out the sounds and occasionally healing one or two people. After what felt simultaneously like a second and eternity, Steve and the woman returned. Nat… Nash… Natasha.

They seated themselves near  you, but not suffocatingly close. While they were gone, someone gave you a blanket, and you'd wrapped it around yourself. A separate person had given you a bottle of water, and you occasionally sipped from it. Once the jet took off, you realized how tired you were, and lay down, utilizing the seats next to you.

You woke up at what would have been two AM to take another drink of water. Natasha and Steve were awake. Maybe they never went to sleep. It was hard to recall anything in the haze.

“Hey kid,” Natasha said, “How was your nap?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s okay.” She said, “Do you wanna talk? We’re only an hour out from Avengers Tower.”

“Sure.” You said.

“What’s the first thing you want to eat once we get back?” Steve asked. “I could go for some pizza.”

“I think my sister’s making mac’n’cheese.” Natasha said.

“I want those… What are they called?” You said, “The noodles where you pour hot water in and wait three minutes?

“Cup noodles?” Natasha offered.

“Yeah, those.” You said, “It’s the last thing I remember eating before… Y’know.”

“Y/n, did I ever officially introduce you to Natasha Romanova?” Steve changed the subject, “She’s one of the Avengers.” Throughout the next hour the three of you talked, but they always clumsily steered the conversation away from families and your time at the Hydra prison.

By the time you arrived at Avengers Tower, the other planes had broken off to go to other bases. Steve had radioed ahead so there would be a room set up for you. Natasha was walking you there, but on your way you two passed the living room, where most of the Avengers were hanging out, so you stopped to be introduced.

    Spider-Man, Yelena, the sister Natasha mentioned, who did indeed have mac’n’cheese, Wanda Maximoff, Vision, who was a robot, Pietro Maximoff, Wanda’s brother, Clint Barton, the cool arrow man, James Rhodes, who was paralyzed from the waist down, and Thor, a literal god. 

They also mentioned three other guys. One named Bucky, who was very antisocial and probably in his room. Along with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, who were both workaholics and were in their labs nine times out of ten.

Natasha gave them all a brief explanation of your powers, and that you’d be living with them from now on. Then she walked you to your room and gave you a short tour.

“Shirts here, bottoms here,” She said, pointing to drawers, “There’s your bed, a desk, a chair, and for some reason there’s a beanbag chair in the corner. Over there’s the door to your bathroom. I suggest you shower and come to the kitchen for dinner. We have more cup noodles as you can possibly imagine.”

She was about to leave when she whirled around, “Oh, I almost forgot! If you need help with anything just say ‘FRIDAY’ and the robot that lives in the walls can help you out with it.”

With that she was gone. With help from FRIDAY, you managed to figure out the shower. Your first shower with warm water in over a decade! After that you dried off and put on some sweatpants and a loose-fitting tee. You wandered over to the bed, just to see how soft it was. That turned into a half-hour-long nap. 

“Hey FRIDAY?” You asked, “How do I get down to the kitchen?” You arrived and saw Steve sitting with Sam. Waiting on the table was a styrofoam cup of noodles. You could definitely get used to living here.

Part 2 here!

[angel-ixily]

The Story of Us

Pairing: Steve Harrington x female!Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

POV: First person

Fandom: Stranger Things

Warnings: Foul language, mentions of Steve and Nancy doing the deed, mentions of blood, mentions of puke, mentions of alcohol and drugs

Summary: The explanation of how Steve Harrington and Y/N ended up being a couple

It was 6th grade when I had first met Steve Harrington.

I was sitting at a table alone at lunch. I had just moved to Hawkins from Gary, and I had known nobody. Throughout the entire day, I didn't talk or even share a glance at anyone.

I felt like a total outcast. Hell, I was an outcast. But that's until a boy, around 5'2 had walked over casually and sat at my lunch table. His thick brown hair bouncing from how he had plopped down in the seat across from me. He had a smile on his face. I looked up at him slowly.

"The names Harrington," He paused for a moment, putting out his hand for me to shake. "Steve Harrington."

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the start of a very, very long friendship ahead of us. And after that, we would begin to form a relationship. But let's not skip ahead of ourselves here. Let me share the story of how Steve and I began to fall in love with each other.

The summer of 1983. Our Junior year. Steve and I invited Carol, Tommy, Barbara, and Nancy; Steve's girlfriend at the time, to a party at his house. Nancy brought it amongst herself to invite her friend Barbara, who lets say, did not have a fun time at all.

We drank, swam, ate, had the time of our lives! Steve and I mocked Carol and Tommy's relationship! Tommy fought back by saying, "Oh yeah? And what about you two? You guys have been best friends for 5 years! There's no way the both of you haven't hooked up!"

As always, because we had been asked this question a million times before, Steve answered, "We're just friends." I answered, "Oh give it up Tommy! Steve has a girlfriend now! Cut it off with the jokes! And besides, what about that Jackie girl? Weren't you fucking around with her only a few days ago?" This caused Carol to give him an upset look and it didn't stop Nancy from giving me one of those looks. One of those looks that read, 'I'm done with the dating jokes between you two. He's mine.'

At the time, I would have gladly let her have him. He was my best friend! Have all the fun in the world that you desire with him! However, break his heart and you'd feel my wrath. But after a while, the thoughts of Nancy Wheeler would slowly fade from Steve's mind, only to be replaced with another girl. But again, we're getting ahead of ourselves.

After a while of splashing and messing around in the pool, we had all gotten out and decided to dry off in Steve's house. Well...not all of us. I had stayed next to Steve's pool, picking up some trash and the mess that they had all left behind. Only a moment later, Barbara came back out. I had been picking up a crushed beer can, and I had looked up to see her. The blood from when she cut her hand still dropping onto the floor. She sat on the edge of the pool.

"Just so you know, whatever Carol and Tommy said in the house that brought you back out here, it doesn't matter. Their opinions and thoughts don't matter at all. Tommy has a micro penis of a brain, and Carol's hair roots drag so deeply into her head that she only knows how to speak dumb. Stupidity is their nature. I guess that's why they’re perfect for each other." This caused Barbara to laugh. It was a sad laugh, though. We were quiet for a moment until she spoke.

"No. It's nothing they said. It's just that.. ever since Nancy began dating Steve, she's been different. She's acting different; Dressing different. Treating me different! She literally just told me to go home. Nancy's been my best friend for years and within a snap of a finger she changes because her boyfriend wants her to." Barbara stopped talking. She took a deep sigh. Her head hung low and her blood continuously dripping into the water. I bit my lip and walked over, sitting down next to her.

"I don't think that Steve wants her to change. If I'm going to be honest, Steve isn't as bad as people make him out to be. Yeah, he has his asshole moments, but he's not a terrible human being. If anything, he doesn't want Nancy to change at all. He started liking her because of who she was, not because of who he wants her to be. I think now that she's dating Steve, she wants to match up with their energy. She's changing because she feels like she needs to." I looked at Barb as I spoke. It took her a while, but she looked up at me.

"Why does she feel like she needs to change? She's been one way all her life. Why change now?" I just shrugged.

"I'm sorry but I don't know," I put a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe that's something you should talk to Nancy about. I don't know her that well and I don't think she likes me very much, but if I do know something about her character, it's that she's a good person. She has a good heart and so do you." I winked at Barb before I stood up, dusting myself off.

"Now. I'm going to run inside and grab some antiseptic cream and a wraparound band-aid. Stay right there and I'll be back in a moment." I walked to Steve's back door and slid it open, walking in, and closing it behind me. I rushed up the stairs and walked into the bathroom, opening the closet. I reached for the first aid kit on the top shelf, opened it, and grabbed the band aid, some tape, and the antiseptic cream.

As I was exiting the bathroom, I began walking down the hallway, when I heard light groaning from Steve's bedroom. I cringed and hurried downstairs, humming "Break My Stride" to forget the torturous sounds I had heard. I walked to the back door and slid it open. I stepped out.

"I'm back with the stuff Barb. Your hand is going to be back in good shape in no ti-" I closed the door behind me and turned around. Barb was no longer there. I walked a little closer to the pool. "Barb? Barb are you there?" I looked around the scenery. The pool was still. Nothing seemed touched or out of order then it was when I had left. The deck was a little wetter than it had been before, but that was it. I pursed my lips and furrowed my eyebrows. "I..Barb I told you not to move."

And that's the entire reason why Steve and I grew closer. it's really sad to think that Barb's death was the reason that Steve and I would fall in love with each other, but it's true.

A bunch of dominoes fell after that. Nancy began hanging out with Jonathan Byers. She and Steve dated for another year or so before Steve broke up with her after Nancy told him that their relationship was bullshit. Hell, I was the one who sat here and talked through it with Steve. Let me tell you how that went!

Steve had speed walked out of the bathroom. I was talking to the new kid, Billy Hargrove, who had been lightly flirting with me. It stopped after Steve had whizzed right past me. I excused myself and followed after him.

"Steve! Steve!" It wasn't until we had been outside and close to his car was when I had enough of him ignoring me and I ran in front of him, stopping him. "Steve what happened in there? Where is Nancy?" I asked, looking at him right in the eyes. He huffed for a few seconds before he spoke.

"Nancy 'Little Miss Perfect' Wheeler isn't coming or even riding back home with me. She can stay behind and wait for her boyfriend Jonathan to waste his gas on her and drive her home." Steve began to walk past me again but I grabbed his arm. He stopped again.

"I'm going with you, right? I have no other way home." I told him. He whipped around, glaring daggers at me.

"You have no other way home, huh? What about the new King, Billy Hargrove? What about him? I'm sure he'd LOVE to take you home. I'm sure he'd also love to get a nice blowjob from you!" He yelled. I was taken aback, but I kept my head high.

"I don't know what Nancy said in there to you. I don't know what's gotten you so pissed off besides the fact that you spilled a drink all over her, but don't you ever take it out on me. This has nothing to do with me at all," I was stepping closer to him, pointing a finger at his face. "So, take a fucking breath and calm down before I make you. Billy and I talking at a high school party has nothing to do with your relationship problems." I told him. He looked me in the eyes. I could see his eyes become waterier. He faced away from me.

"Just get in the car. I'll explain it when we get to my house..." He mumbled.

The car ride there had been quiet. The radio was off, Steve and I weren't talking. The only sound heard was the engine of the car running. And then the keys jingling when Steve had parked the car in his driveway and turned off the ignition.

He had opened his door and gotten out. I proceeded to follow. He opened the gate to his backyard, and we walked in there together. He sat by the edge of the pool, not caring whether or not his shoes got wet. It was also the same place Barb had sat right before she died.

I was scared that if I looked away from Steve, he would disappear like she did, and I'd lose him forever. Just like Nancy had lost Barb forever. I didn't take my eyes off of him as I sat next to him by the pool, taking my heels off and dipping my feet into the water.

We were both quiet. Steve looked at the water, while I looked at him. All of this seeming so familiar.

"I'm sorry Y/N..." He said out of nowhere. I furrowed my eyebrows.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"I'm sorry. For the way I treated you back there. I was just...I was so pissed. Nancy told me she didn't love me and that our relationship was bullshit. She talked about Barb's death and how it was our fault. I just... I saw you talking to Billy. You looked happy. I guess I walked past you because I wanted you to notice how upset I was. Well, you did and then I went off on you because you did exactly what I wanted you to do. I shouldn't have done that." He looked over to me and into my eyes. I stared right back at him.

"I understand. What Nancy said to you was heartbreaking. But you also have to realize that she was really, really drunk. People say stupid things when they're drunk. Things that they sometimes don't mean. Remember that one time that you got completely wasted and when I dropped you off at home you wouldn't stop rambling about how you loved me and that you wanted to be with me? How the only reason you started talking to me in the middle school was because you had the biggest crush on me and that you had always loved me? Yeah, people say stupid things." Steve raised his eyebrows for a moment before lowering them. He opened his mouth to say something, but he just shrugged.

"Yeah, but what Nancy was saying seemed so real. She's been acting weird and different for months. Sometimes when you're drunk, the truth spills out because the common sense isn't clicking. The decision making between wrong and right isn't communicating with the rest." Steve explained. I stared at him wide eyed.

"What?" He asked. He raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing. It's just that...when you had joined that AP Psych class with me, you couldn't tell the different between the frontal lobe and the aorta of the heart. But here you are explaining how alcohol makes you lose connections of the brain. That's crazy, Harrington." I jokingly said. He chuckled. For what felt like the 300th time today, it was quiet.

"Yeah. I guess I've drank enough alcohol to just know from experience of how it messes with things." He said, looking back to the pool. I nodded, biting my lip. I hadn't realized I had glanced down from Steve, and I looked back up at him. It was as if it were my first time seeing him again in a new light. I didn't know what kind of light it was, though.

"So, when you told me you loved me a few months ago...was that true?" I asked. He looked at the pool before dragging his head to look at me.

"I uh...Ya know, like you said. You sometimes say crazy things when you're drunk." He joked. I laughed, causing him to laugh. He stopped laughing early, just looking at me. A smile playing at his lips.

I stopped laughing as well. looking at him again. For a moment, it felt like it was just us.

That was the first time that the connection between us blossomed into something different. Something new.

"Thanks for caring so much, Y/N." He mumbled.

"I'll be here anytime you need me, Steve." I replied.

As I've mentioned before, that was when something began to blossom between us. Although, it wasn't until Steve began working at Starcourt Mall was when the growing blossom finally bloomed.

Steve, Robin, and I had been captured and drugged by the Russians. Dustin and Erica had busted us out of the underground base and had brought us back into the normal floor of the mall. Instead of getting us out of the building, they brought us into the theater to watch some movie about flying cars and time travel. I was drugged. I don't remember it.

Dustin told us to stay put. Knowing Steve, Robin, and I...we most definitely did not stay put. We left almost immediately and ran to the fountain, enjoying the cold, crisp water. high off of our asses. After that we began to feel sick. We ran to the bathroom and I almost couldn't make it to the toilet to puke. I was in the really big stall. Steve was in the one next to me and Robin was in the one next to him.

I'll give you, my dear reader, the details.

We had finished puking first and it was just us sitting in the quiet. I had my head against the wall of the stall, my heart pounding and my throat hurting.

"Have you guys...ever been in love?" Robin asked. I sighed. Everyone knew what Steve was about to say. It was coming from a million miles away.

"Yeah. Nancy Wheeler," BINGO! I was right! But then again, when am I never right? Steve continued. "First semester senior year." I nodded against the stall.

"Knew that was coming." I spoke. Steve scoffed. Robin chuckled.

"Oh my god. She's such a priss." Robin complained.

"Myeh. Turns out not really." Steve announced to us. I leaned my head to where Steve was.

"Are you still in love with Nancy?" Robin asked. This question caught my attention. My heart felt heavy. It's as if I was expecting him to say yes. That yes never came.

"No." Steve answered. My heart relaxed. I didn't know that I was tense until I took a breath.

"Why not?" Robin asked. I straightened out my legs. I was interested in how Steve would answer this. He was quiet for a second before he began to talk.

"I guess it's because I found someone better for me. Heh it's crazy. Ever since I met Dustin he's been saying, "I know you like her. The feeling is somewhere within you. Somewhere you locked away because you were scared of rejection. I see how you guys look at each other and you can't just be friends. You found your Suzie." I stood still. The world seemed like it had stopped spinning. I couldn't move.

"Wait, who's Suzie?" Robin asked in a drunken tone.

"Some girl from camp. I guess his girlfriend." Steve breathed out. "To be honest with you I'm not 100% sure she's even real." Steve paused a moment. "But that's...that's not the point, it doesn't matter. The point is that this girl, ya know the one that I like.. It's somebody that I have known for what seems like forever. I picked her up everyday. I talk to her everyday. She's basically my best friend." I sat up straighter against the wall. My heart beating with every word he said. My brain thoughtless.

"And I don't even know why I never made a move on her. Maybe because Tommy H would have teased me, or we'd get a lot of "I told you so's." Steve began to face my side of the stall. "It's stupid...I mean. Dustin was right from the beginning. He saw right through me. I've been in love with this girl from the day I introduced myself. I found out that she was caring. She is so caring. She cared for me throughout all my stupid shit. I have never felt anything like this. She's so smart. She dragged me into 2 AP classes with her in Junior year. And she's loving. She's so loving and nurturing towards everything. She's been my best friend for 6 years and it took me this long to figure out how I felt for her all along." Steve stopped there. The only thing that could be heard was my heart beating. I didn't know what to say. I opened my mouth, yet nothing came out at all. I was stunned. Robin was quiet as well.

"Y/N?" Steve banged his hand against the stall barrier. I stared at the wall. "Did you just OD in there?" He asked. I snorted.

"Yeah no. I am very much still alive. I'm breathing." I informed him, taking a deep breath.

I heard some rustling, and then Steve slid under the stall He sat across from me.

"The floor is literally disgusting." I cringed.

"Yeah well I already got a buncha blood and puke on my shirt so," Steve and I stared at each other for a moment. We just stared. Trying to just take in the fact that it had taken us almost 6 years to figure out how we felt. "What do you think?" Steve asked.

"About?" Robin asked from the other stall. I giggled, looking down at the floor and then back up at him. Steve faced the stall leading to Robin's side.

"This girl." Steve responded.

"She sounds awesome." Robin complimented. Steve turned back towards me.

"She is awesome," He agreed. It's as if he was taking me in. "And what about the guy?" He added. It's as if Robin knew not to answer this question. Instead, he waited for my answer.

"I'm hoping that the drugs aren't messing with his brain and that he's thinking straight." I told him.

"Oh, I think he's thinking a lot clearer than usual." Steve spoke calmly. I felt butterflies in my stomach, and I wanted to scream.

"I'd hope so because I need him to be able to think clearly so all the words that I'm about to say will sink in." Steve nodded, sitting up straighter and fixing his posture. "I remember the day that you told me that you liked Nancy. You walked next door, walked right into my room, and just began to talk all about her. I told myself 'I'm happy for him' and 'I could care less about his relationships'. That was far from the truth. I told myself that because I forced myself to. I listened for hours and hours about how Nancy was your world and how she was so important to you. I remember being secretly jealous. And now I realize that it wasn't because I thought you would replace me with her; but because I liked you all along and I just didn't know." I felt tears coming to my eyes and I grabbed Steve's hand on the other side of the stall. He smiled a toothy grin.

"Dustin was right. Tommy, Carol, Nancy, Tina, everybody was right. I'm so sorry that it took me so long to realize. Steve Harrington, I've loved you all this time and I never even knew it until today. Isn't that crazy?" I asked him, a few tears slipping down. Steve scooted closer to me.

"No, it's not crazy. Wanna know what’s crazy? I knew I loved you the day that Nancy told me our relationship was bullshit. When we were by the pool together. You’d think that’s the last place I’d recognize my feelings for someone. But I remember just looking over at you.. and everything stopped. And then Dustin and the kids came along and they’d continuously ask us if we were together! They’d tell us they we should and that it’s obvious we liked each other. Hell, Dustin even brought you up on on train tracks when we were trying to capture Dart.” Steve brought up the train tracks and I pursed my lips and lifted an eyebrow.

“Wait Dustin mentioned me on the tracks?” I asked Steve curiously. Steve nodded.

“Yeah. When you went to go back to the car to get more meat he began talking about love or something. He asked me about you.” I waited for a few seconds for Steve to continue, but he never did. I figured he was leaving it there.

“And… what did you say?” I asked him. Steve finally continued the rest of the story.

“I told him that you weren’t like everyone. That you were different then Nancy, Tina, Carol, Chrissy, Sarah, basically all of them. You were the perfect type of girl to fall in love with. When Dustin asked me why I wasn’t with you, I didn’t know what to answer because I wanted to be with you… I just didn’t know how to approach it.” Steve mumbled the last part. I smiled.

“I know we’re in a really crazy scenario.. but after this, will you go on a date with me?” He asked. I smiled brighter.

“I will.” I agreed. Steve let go of my hand and came over to my side of the stall. He sat right next to me.

“Hi…” he mumbled.

“Hi.” I replied. Steve looked at my eyes for a moment before glancing down to my lips. I giggled. “If you’re gonna kiss me you better do it now.” I offered. Steve nodded and began to lean in. He was less than an inch away when Robin, who I forgot was here, spoke.

“If you guys start making out, I’m gonna go right back to the secret Russian base and have them murder me.” She said. I laughed and Steve sighed.

“Shut up, Robin.” He said. I hit his chest lightly.

“I like Robin. Be nice.” I ordered him. He smiled.

“Yeah I like her too.” He said, beginning to lean on again. I started leaning in as well. Our lips were literally right on each other’s when the door slammed open. We both tore away from each other, whipping our heads to face the door.

Dustin was in the stall doorway.

“What… the hell.”

[give-soup-please]

Ever since I started gathering voice clips of the narrator in the Dungeons games, I've been having waaay too much fun with the concept that that is where he went off to while being skip button'd, or after the figurine ending/epilogue. So I figured this would be a fun prompt to send you. The narrator is hard at work at his new job of narrating the Dungeons games only to realize at some point that the player is the same one who was playing TSP before a certain skip button happened, and/or when he decided to retire Stanley. I'll leave it up to you to decide how this plays out. Consider this platonic or romantic, although given that clip you reblogged, uuuhhh, romantic may be the way to go, 'cause boy does that dude drop his guard like nobody's business when you beat a final boss, apparently lol. (God, that clip still has me laughing. Spat out my drink the first time I heard it.)

(Oh, that clip. Good lord I turned into a blushing mess when I first heard it. If you (readers) haven't already, listen to it. I'll link it at the end of this post.)

The narrator discovering the same player again in a different game (romantic)

Yeah, the narrator had been crushing on you for a while. You were quite a sweet player, all told. Not the most obedient, but he always sensed your amusement and vague feelings of friendship. He can read into Stanley’s thoughts fairly well, (assuming it’s not just his own projections.) It’s not that much of a reach for him to sense the person behind Stanley’s actions.

He admires you, secretly. He wouldn’t be able to verbalize why. Maybe it’s the way he can feel your amusement at his jokes, or your sympathy as he struggles to tell his story. You’re empathizing with a fiction, spending time with someone who isn’t quite as real as he’d like to be. 

The two of you bumble along, having a good time, like always, being friends and having fun. Even if you do drag along that damnable bucket from time to time. Things are perfect.

But… He really should move on from the parable. It’s not a matter of the parable having gone stale, far from it. He’s always egged both himself and Stanley on, thinking ‘just one more run’, or something similar. 

Between the skip button and other similar developments, he’s grown as a person quite a bit. He’s mellowed out a little, and become more kind around the edges. He’s changed, but the parable remains forever static, an intentional part of its design. He’s honestly, authentically, ready to go.

The truth is, leaving the parable isn’t as hard as leaving you. You’ll never hear him admit to it, but… it is what it is. He is who he is, and you- You are wonderfully, beautifully you. He sighs. There’s definitely some lingering remorse. He says that he’ll give the story one more run, then retire it for good.

And then- Out of all possible endings you could take for his last retelling, out of every single choice- You take the freedom ending. One last perfect run. You skip past the broom closet, you wait for him to instruct you on which numbers fit in the keypad, no delays or false paths taken.

After everything the two of you have been through, you’re giving him the best send off he could ask for. He’s never cried happy tears before, but he definitely gets close as he gives out his last narration. The world fades to white, and then the black of the loading screen. He wants to make sure you have company. You’ve given him that, it’s the least he could do in return.

So he leaves behind a copy of himself, one that’s not aware of the player. 

The copy is just like him in every way, just less self aware. It doesn’t have any memories of his decision to leave. It will provide entertainment as best it can. But it won’t be him. And it will not love you like he does. He doesn’t want competition. Let him have that one selfish thought, please. He doesn’t want anyone else to fall in love with you.

Months pass. Maybe years. He takes on other narration jobs, and has an absolute blast. It��s enjoyable, having someone else come up with a script instead of him. He gets to relax, and narrate to his heart’s content. People clamor for his voice, and he doesn’t have to put any of the effort into coming up with words. It’s perfect.

A script lands on his desk for a game series called ‘Dungeons’. He shrugs his metaphysical shoulders. Seemed like an easy gig, why not?

He inhabits the game, and narrates to his heart’s content. He watches players come and go, and thinks about you often. His throat hurts every time he does. 

Ah. Another new player arrives. He cracks his knuckles, and distantly wonders whether this one will complete the game, or stop before they make it that far.

He does his job to the best of his ability. He always does- he’s a professional after all. He gives the standard opening lines, and the two of you progress through the game, just like old times.

There’s something achingly familiar about you, but the narrator does his best to not be rattled.

He’s moved on from his own game, but certainly not from you.

Then he delivers a witty bit of dialogue, perfectly salted and sarcastic, and you laugh. Your presence is filled with amusement, with joy, and he knows it’s you. No one else had the same essence. The same spirit, colored with different emotions.

He has a bit of a positive breakdown, and tries to keep his narration even.

Here? Now? Of all times and all places? This had to be proof. This had to mean something. He holds his tongue, difficult though it is. He’s elated on the inside. You’ve got the same setup you’ve always had, headset with mic attached. He listens to you react to him, and is filled with pure bliss.

His jaw drops as you dedicatedly play through the game, never faltering, never giving up. Sometimes friends of yours will visit, and crack jokes about what you’re doing. You say to them, “Hell yeah, I’m having a great time. I can’t believe it’s the same narrator. It’s so nice to hear new dialogue again. You watch, I’m not going to stop until I’ve heard everything.”

If he had a physical form, he would be blushing. He’s astounded. The amount of pure joy he’s feeling right now is beyond description. He watches you smash through enemies and beat levels with a dedication he rarely sees.

And then, you beat the final boss. His normal dialogue is to just congratulate the player, plain and simple. The end, roll credits. For the first time he can remember, he tosses his script aside and does something off the cuff.

“Yes! Wow! You did it! Forget about talking to you in the third person crap, you really did it! Incredible! I could hug you, I could kiss you, but hey, I’m just a voice in a video game…”

You roar with laughter and delight, and your face heats up a little. “Hah! I wish.” 

He freezes. That’s the closest thing he’ll ever get to a confirmation. He has to press forward.

“Oh, really~?” He purrs. You choke on your drink. “W-woah, that almost sounded like a direct response-”

“Stranger things have happened, reader.”

You cringe at yourself for taking a chance that would make you look ridiculous if anyone else was in the room with you. “Is… Is it really you? Not just a narrator, the narrator. From The Stanley Parable. I mean, hell- i’d recognize your voice anywhere, but- is- are you all of… you?” It’s not the best way to phrase it, you know. 

He rolls his eyes affectionately. “Of course it’s me. Why, with a voice as distinguished and excellent as mine-” You cut off his boasting with another laugh. He never gets tired of hearing it.

You start to tease him back. “Alright, well, you seemed pretty interested in kissing me earlier. I’m not one for long distance relationships, but I’m sure I can make this work.”

“Erm- Well- I-” His brain is malfunctioning. “I- I can try something. Put your lips to the screen.”

You do. There's a slight static buzz from your computer. Your lips are zapped. You pull back. “Uh-”       

“Oops. That was a stronger pulse than I wanted it to be. Still, I do find your presence rather… Electrifying.”

You say nothing for a few moments. “Well, this has been fun, but-”

“No, no, no, no, come back!” You’re trying your best to hold in your laughter.

So begins one of the oddest relationships you’ve ever had. 

[yangwonz]

enhypen as boys i’ve had a crush on

pairing: enha x gn!reader (except sunoos im sorry (implied x fem!reader))

genre: my sad-sad love life

warnings: implied alcohol consume in jakes, haven’t proofread, if u notice something pls let me know and i will add it!

a/n: this is not even half of my crushes i don’t think i’m doing very well 😭 thank god my life is so messy tho there’s always something to write about.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

heeseung

-> a close friend, who will never know about my true feelings

you and heeseung met when you switched schools and you two ended up attending the same class. you guys didn’t have much to do with each other, given both of you had your own people to hang out with, besides talking a few words, but you had your eyes on him since the very first day. weirdly enough, a year later your friendgroups merged and just like that you obviously befriended him too. this could’ve meant the beginning of your friends to lovers story, but you had to find out that heeseung was indeed taken already. it hurt you, of course it did, but you settled to just being his friend and wished that as the time goes by your feelings for him will fade away. even though you exactly know, that the more you hang out with him, the deeper you’re falling for him.

jay

-> the boy who fell in love with my best friend

jay and you got to know each other, when he was in the ninth and you were in the eight grade. he was a close friend of one of your friends from his grade. he was quite nice to you sometimes, but your relationship mostly consisted of him teasing you for whatever. you never understood as for why, but you somehow developed a crush on him, even though you swore that he was totally not your type. gathering all your might and braveness, one day you confessed your feelings for him. you didn’t have much hope, but his apologizing look and him telling you that he is in love with your best friend did devastate you.

jake

-> an old classmates friend i met at a birthday party

you both were a bit tipsy the time you met an old classmate of yours, who then proceeded to introduce you to the boy next to him: jake. it was one of your friends birthday party, so you obviously had a few drinks. he offered to make you another drink, promising you that he was a pro, to which you just had to agree to, because damn he is indeed veryyy pretty. you have seen pictures of him on instagram already so you knew he looked good, but he was just even more mesmerizing in real life. nothing much happened between the two of you other than a bit of flirting, but that’s totally okay.

sunghoon

-> the boy i ghosted because my best friend from back then fell in love with him

in fifth grade, you and sunghoon got a lot closer. he texted you every day after school, just about whatever was on his mind and the two of you ended up talking until late at night (your mom wasn’t very fond of this behaviour). he gave you chocholates sometimes saying that “he has way too much at home”, or downloaded all one direction songs, because he knew you loved them, and shared earphones with you, whenever you and him went home from school together. he stood up for you when you told him that some boys from your grade were mean to you. it was a blooming puppy love between two kids, which had to end, because your best friend at that time told you, that she’s head over heels in love with sunghoon. because you loved her so much, and didn’t want her to be sad, you decided to stop talking to sunghoon (you even blocked him lol) and promised her to help her with her crush on him. only for her to announce a week later, that she doesn’t like him anymore. you tried to make things good again, but sunghoon was just so mad, that he never heard you out. a few months later you moved to a different country, but wherever you are, you never fail to think back to the very first time you were truly in love.

sunoo

-> my first crush from kindergarden whose dad forbid us to be friends

you will never forget your first day in kindergarden. you were a shy kid, but were brave enough to go up to this on girl on the swings, who later became your best friend at the time. she introduced you to sunoo, and the three of you ended up being unseparable. you often thought of sunoo when you were at home, how cute he looked when he smiled all-so-brightly and how nice he was to you. it made you sad, whenever a day or week came to an end and you had to say goodbye to him. you weren’t sure what this feeling was, but you wanted to be around him all the time. one day though, everything changed. he didn’t come to play with you and y/f/n, sunoo straight up acted like he didn’t know who you two at all. you couldn’t understand as of why he is acting like that and tried to talk to him while apologizing in case you did or said something hurtful without noticing. nevermind your efforts, he ignored you and proceeded to find new friends. later, your friend told you that he stopped playing with you two, because his dad didn’t want him to be friends with girls.

jungwon

-> the boy i became friends with when i was at the hospital but never saw again

you were sent to the hospital when you were around seven years old and the thought of being there absolutely scared you. after your mom had to leave for a bit you totally lost it and just cried (turns out rather loudly) in your room. a little boy, who was in the room next to you, and his mom heard you and came over to ask you if everything is alright. they kept you company until your mom came back. the two started a conversation and got along very well, and so did you and the little boy aswell. you spent the remaining days playing together, and he never failed to make fun of you for crying so hard on that day. but also, he always gave you his favourite car toys and in exchange you let him think out a storyline for when he agreed to play dolls with you. years later, you just randomly remembered of him, and found out that you never even asked him what his name is. your mom came to rescue though, and told you that the boy is named jungwon. you hope that wherever jungwon is, he is doing just alright.

ni-ki

-> the boy from my dance course i always wished to get paired up with

your mom signed you up for a dance course when you were in the first grade. it didn’t take you long to notice ni-ki, who just seemed so talented and cute in your eyes. he took the spotlight in almost all performances, always dancing in the front, while you were behind for most of the time, like he was an idol and you were his background dancer. sometimes, you would have to dance in pairs, and you wished and prayed to just be able to dance with him one time, but there was a certain girl by his side all the time. but they complemented each other well, and you never failed to notice his saddened look in his eyes, whenever she missed practice. so ni-ki just stayed your, once again, unfullfilled crush.

[pinkykats-place]

BakuDeku SFW one shot fic recs

Normal AU [UA Students]

Archive of our own

Disclaimers!

None of the stories linked below are mine.

Mostly fluff pieces, but still read AO3 tags.

Credit to @erikatsuk for the gif.

Note: If you read any of these stories and like them please let the author know with a kudos and/or comment!

We didn’t mean to stalk them by mochavio

Summary: Izuku and Katsuki are unsure and a bit scared - of themselves, of each other and of their budding romantic relationship. But most of all, they’re terrified of the idea of their friends finding out.

Little do the know, that their classmates are actually all nosy little shits.

Boom, Badoom, Boom by warschach

Summary: Izuku's working the kissing booth at the school fair, it just so happens Katsuki has been crushing on him since the first grade.

“Did you—“ Izuku parted his mouth with no sound leaving it, “Did you pay?”

“Yea.”

“For a kiss?”

you're sickly sweet (just like caramel) by saturnsorbit

Summary: Due to not being able to sleep, Katsuki and Izuku fall into an accidental routine where the blond comes and keeps Izuku company while he bakes random sweets in the dead of the night. Because of this, Katsuki learns that caramel is one of Izuku's favourite things. The nerd won't tell him why that is though.

Don't worry, he finds out.

A "Love Story" Told Through T-shirts by Quirkyasfok

Summary: The thing is though that he could literally carry a sign around his neck confessing his love to the little shit, and Deku still wouldn’t notice.

Actually…

That might work.

or when one oblivious idiot falls in love with another oblivious idiot and decides t-shirts are the answer... wait what?

Every time we touch, I get this feeling by @amarisllis

Summary: Katsuki Bakugo’s hands are dangerous. They’re violent and explosive and loud and deadly, and everyone knows it. Katsuki is used to people giving him a wide berth and avoiding contact with his hands at all costs. He sees other people holding hands, casually touching each other with soft fingers and open palms. When he does, he glances down at his own callous-roughened hands, and he wonders what that’s like.

Everyone is afraid of Katsuki's hands.

Everyone except Deku.

Confessions by silentsongbird

Summary: It’s finally time to leave the island. Everyone is cheering below as the ship begins to depart. Katsuma and Mahoro are still waving and shouting goodbye from the dock as the ship departs. The ship leaves slowly, but the children stay at the edge, shouting their thanks up at them. Even once the ship is a good distance away, Katsuki can still see the outline of their bodies even after their voices fade away. He won't admit it, but he's glad they came to say goodbye.

He can still hear some of his classmates cheering below him, but they aren't really a concern of his. He and Izuku are alone on the upper deck now and even with being in the fresh air, Deku's presence is suffocating.

— — —

Or: Katsuki just can't stop staring at Izuku and thinking about all they've been through.

glowing skins and pleading fingers by mimisyum

Summary: Oh, Katsuki wants.

He wants to touch, to play with Izuku’s sweaty curls and caress his tense neck. To fix his posture and massage his shoulders. Would Izuku let him? In another reality where Katsuki’s hands weren’t so deadly and the thread holding their relationship so fragile, would Izuku let him stroke his skin? Would he let Katsuki spend hours feeling the bumps of his scars, memorizing the texture of his moles? Would he let him trace over his freckles without leaving another mark behind?

Katsuki hopes so. He really, really does.

_____

In which Katsuki spent fourteen years resisting the urge to touch Izuku until it all becomes too much and he gives in. But maybe, just maybe, things don't go quite as badly as he expects.

The Self-(Love) Game by UltimateEmpath

Summary: Katsuki has a bad day and Izuku knows just the game that can help!

A.K.A Katsuki is bad at loving himself and Izuku has plenty of love to give

Write your name on my heart (if you want) by amarisllis

Summary: Midoriya is a writer. Katsuki thinks he's amazing.

In which Mineta is a jerk, Katsuki tries to make Izuku happy, and Izuku gets more than he could have ever hoped for.

katsuki bakugou is incapable of love. or so they thought. by snowymochi

Summary: in which their class tries to figure out if Bakugou and Midoriya are dating.

Deku's Secret Checklist by emem_itsem

Summary: Izuku and Katsuki go on a journey. A journey of self discovery, of highs and lows, of yeses and no’s. A journey to find the perfect pet name.

Concerning Prophlyactics by EnduringParadox

Summary: Katsuki grabbed his jacket.

Something tumbled out of the pocket and fell to the floor.

The condom.

His eyes widened. Goddamn it—he'd forgotten all about it. Katsuki's gaze flitted to Izuku, who, luckily, hadn't noticed and was still happily chattering about their post-graduation plans. But before he could bend down and sneak the condom back into his pocket, All Might was already reaching for it.

"Ah, I've got it, Young Bakugou. Here's your—" All Might stopped. He scrutinized the item in his hand with furrowed brows, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was holding. Slowly, his eyes found Katsuki's.

Katsuki stared at him.

All Might stared back.

---

Katsuki, now dating Izuku, gets a condom from a teasing Sero and Kaminari. He forgets about it until it accidentally falls out of his pocket in front of All Might and Izuku.

A Silent Cry for Help by bkdkwritingsdump

Summary: Sometimes even someone as strong as Katsuki needs to be taken care of, and Izuku is more than willing to help, if only he can figure out what his broody boyfriend is asking for.

(Spoiler: it’s affection.)

Only Ever Been You. by klutzuki

Summary: “Hey, Midobro. Why do you call Bakubro Kacchan? Isn’t it like, childish?” Denki asked, twirling a pen between his fingers. From the corner of his eye, he saw Bakugou grinning.

“The nerd couldn’t say my name.” Bakugou told them, “come to think of it, can you even say it now, Deku?”

Midoriya smirked at the blond before saying, “Of course I can, Katsuki-chan!” In his cheeriest voice. Everyone could hear the clogs in Bakugou’s mind coming to a stop.

“What happened, Katsuki-chan?” Midoriya prodded, poking the blond’s cheek.

— — —

Or, Bakugou and Midoriya through the eyes of 1-A.

[taestefully-in-luv]

Always You | JJK (Seven)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 10.1k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (!!!), mention of erection, heated make out, marking, grinding, mentions of suicide:( (If this makes you uncomfortable pls skip), mentions of cheating, quick blowjob, swallowing,

Notes: sorry this chapter is shorter than the last! But we only have 2 chapters left guys! And they are long!!! Sorry in advance lol. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter:) Anyway feel free to send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat about the story:)

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch @not-your-lion @flowersgirl02 @justinetingball @fiantomartell

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jungkook runs his finger through your hair, his mouth hot on your neck as he leaves behind what feels like a million, slow kisses. You taste sweet and he’s reminded of the first time he got to do this with you and his heart swells at the memory. He feels you grind against him, making him impossibly harder as he grinds back. Your moans fill his ears and it sounds like a chorus of sweet, sweet music to him, he can’t help but grin into his kisses. Suddenly, the image of him kissing down your throat becomes blurry and the sound of your whines echo in the distance. He must be waking up.

Jungkook feels you hovering over him with shocked eyes and he can’t help but wonder what’s gotten into you. He can feel his head beginning to throb from the inevitable hang over that wishes to visit and he raises a hand over it. You continue to look down at him and that’s when he notices it. Them. The hickeys that spread across your skin and he goes absolutely pale.

He looks back at you with wide eyes but he can’t help but feel pride bloom all throughout his body as he looks at how he has marked you but those petals quickly shrivel up when he realizes how badly he must have messed up.

“Oh fuck.” He says under his breath.

“Yeah. ‘Oh fuck’” you repeat back.

Jungkook lifts himself up, leaning on his arms as he takes another look at the bruises that cover your skin. He releases a shaky breath contemplating what to say.

“Drunk.” His eyes slide to the side, “We were really…drunk.”

You narrow your eyes for a split second then look at him with ease,

“Yeah…right…drunk.” You quickly agree.

Jungkook and you share a moment of a silence, admiring one another’s work on the other. You hesitantly reach out, your fingers coming in contact with the side of his neck, brushing against his soft skin.

“This ones huge…I’m sorry.” You say, not sounding entirely sorry. A slight smirk graces your features.

“Ha, you don’t look very sorry.” Jungkook grabs a hold of your hand, “Plus, you don’t even want to see what I did to you.”

You retreat your hand back to touch your own skin, you shuffle out of the sheets and stand from the bed. You walk towards the little mirror over by Jungkook’s closet and take a look.

You audibly gasp, the purple marks that spread across your neck and collarbone are ones for the books.

“What the hell Jeon! How am I supposed to walk out of here today! Everyone’s going to see this!” you gesture towards yourself. “Oh my god.” You turn back to look in the mirror. “This is horrible.”

Jungkook leaves the bed to join you at the mirror,

“Holy shit.” He looks at himself, “I’m not any better!” he throws his hands up but he’s laughing. He’s fucking laughing! You watch in disbelief as he chuckles the fucking day away.

You watch him and you can’t help but start to laugh too. This is just so ridiculous.

“Wait wait…” Jungkook calms down, suddenly becoming serious. “We didn’t do anything else…right?”

“Why are you looking at me like that? Shouldn’t you also remember?”

“You’re the girl! Can’t you like tell…if we…” He motions his hands between your bodies.

“Oh my god. No, we didn’t do anything else. Do you really not remember everything?” you ask with a frown.

“I feel like I do…but I was just being you know, sure.”

Jungkook wishes he could remember everything in great detail but the reality is he was really drunk and some moments are hazier than others. Which is a fucking shame because he wants to remember the first moment you caressed his skin to his lips on yours.

“Do you remember everything?”

“I remember enough.” You admit.

You were drunk, yes. But the memory of you and Jungkook is almost crystal clear and fresh in your mind.

“Bottom line is…we were really drunk and drunk people do stuff like that all the time.” Your hands go to your hips, “I mean, I’ve literally made out with Trina before. Don’t feel special.” You wink, your tone is light and teasing and Jungkook finds you amusing.

“Just two drunk idiots.” Jungkook grins. “So no acting weird.”

“I won’t be weird, will you?”

“I’ll try my best.” He chuckles.

“I’m serious Jungkook, we can be cool about this…” you give him a smile, “It’s not like we haven’t—”

“Stop…” Jungkook lifts his hand up, “I get it.” He chuckles awkwardly.

Your small smile fades, your heart pinches. He never wants to talk about it, did he hate it that much?

“Right…” You begin walking closer towards him and he steps back, your heart pinching once again. “Well, lend me a fucking turtle neck or something so I can get outta here.”

Jungkook smirks down at you as he walks to his closet.

“Fine. Hopefully I have two…I have a black and a white one right?” he asks you from inside his closet.

“Shit, I think I have your white one at my place…”

“I don’t think Nick owns any…”

“Why do you need one? Just stay home today.”

“I’m supposed to meet Vanessa later…”

Your heart doesn’t just pinch this time, it sinks. Deep down into your lower belly until its falling to the ground.

“Oh.”

“I’ll find a scarf or some shit.”

“I’ll bring you your white one, don’t worry.”

“Really? Thanks y/n.” Jungkook walks out of his closet smiling at you, his black turtle neck draped over his arm. “Here.” He hands it over to you.

“Turn around.”

Jungkook raises a brow at you until realization hits him.

“Okay.” He whispers out.

You quickly change into the long sleeve shirt and let Jungkook know he can turn back around.

“I feel like I should make you breakfast or something…” Jungkook scratches the back of his neck, standing here awkwardly.

“Really Jungkook?” you laugh out, “And what would you make me?”

“I think Nick has some toaster waffles.” Jungkook offers with a grin.

“I’m good. I’m gonna head out but I will be back with your shirt!”

“Sounds good, I’ll walk you out.”

You two nod at one another, exiting the bedroom and walking towards the front door. You stop to say goodbye and Jungkook steps into your space, wrapping his arms around you.

“See you in a bit.” He whispers.

“Yeah.” You pull back and smile at him. “See you in a bit.”

~~~~~

“Why the fuck are you wearing a black turtle neck in the middle of August?”

It’s Trina, if you haven’t guessed. It’s the first thing you hear when you step into your apartment, she is over to hang with Holly you’re assuming.

“I was a bit chilly.” You lie through your teeth, giving her a strained smile.

“Take it off.” Trina commands.

“Trina…” Holly warns softly, she’s got her hand on Trina’s shoulder and you can’t help but giggle.

“Wait, your date was last night, right? With this ‘Min Yoongi’? Ooooh, did things go well?” Trina whistles out.

“It wasn’t a date, I already told you…” you whine as you walk into the living room, sitting on the sofa.

“But it did go well! I had a really nice time.” You admit softly, smiling at the memory of your ‘thank you outing’. “He’s so cool and so sweet.” Your eyes light up, “He owns the record shop a few shops away from the bakery!”

“Owns it? Like it’s his?” Holly asks, she shares a pleased smile with Trina.

“Yes, like it’s his.”

“He sounds like a man. Marry him.” Trina gives you an aggresive thumbs up.

“Chill dude.” You laugh. “I think he and I could become really good friends…and…”

“And?”

“Well, you never know.” Your eyes shift to the side as you smirk. “The world is full of mystery.”

Trina smiles brightly, “So you’re saying there’s a chance?”

“I’m saying that there’s not not a chance…”

“I’LL TAKE IT!” Trina lifts up Holly’s hand and high fives herself with it. “Whatever isn’t Jungkook.” She finishes with a grin and you feel your whole body go stiff.

“Trina…” you frown, “I really don’t like when you say stuff like that. Jungkook is a good person. He just…he messed up, yes. But he’s trying.”

“He hurt you.” Trina’s tone goes serious. “How could you forgive him for that?”

“I’m trying too. But I am able to try because I know him…he wouldn’t just hurt me without him having his own reasons…and I love him, T. Like as friends, of course but also…”

“I know.” Trina goes soft, “I know.”

Holly clasps her hands together, “And that’s that! How about we make some food and chit chat some more over some mimosas!”

“I love that idea.” You say.

“But seriously girl, please go change out of that turtle neck��you’re making me sweat just looking at you.” Trina says.

Right, the turtle neck. You told Jungkook you would drop off his white one…well, you gotta find it first.

“Okay, but I have to run an errand first then we can hang.”

“An errand?” Both girls look at you quizzically.

“Don’t worry about it.” Great, now you sound like Jungkook.

~~~~~

Within the hour you are quickly dropping off Jungkook’s shirt off at his place and going back to yours. He answered the door in nothing but his towel again and you tried so hard not to drool. You recall the night before when your fingers were dragging down his chest and his toned stomach. You felt every ab beneath your fingertips. Fuck, that felt good. You’re home now, you shake your head trying to rid yourself of thoughts of Jungkook’s body. But with a body like that? It’s so so hard. Just like how he was…STOP. You shake off these thoughts and try to pay attention to what Holly is saying.

“—And then I turned it in anyway and still got an A!”

“That’s amazing Holly.” You say, trying to act like you weren’t just having impure thoughts.

“Yeah, you totally kick ass.” Trina says.

You girls are a few mimosas in, you feel the champagne starting to work its wonderful magic on you but unfortunately it is making you start to sweat. You want to take off this damn turtleneck.

“I’ll be right back.” You say quickly before retreating to your bedroom. You find a baggy t-shirt and slip it on. This feels much better! But god damn. These marks on your skin are something else. You rush to the bathroom and try to cover some with makeup but it’s hardly helping. Fuck.

“Welp, maybe they won’t notice.” You whisper to yourself.

You walk back out into the living room and you notice both Holly and Trina’s eyes go comically wide.

“Wow, that date did go better than you thought!” Trina starts whooping and hollering.

“Wow y/n.” Holly really does look shocked.

Okay, so maybe they did notice. You feel so self conscious all of the sudden, your hands flying up to your neck to cover yourself.

“It’s—It’s not what it looks like.” You stammer out.

“It looks like this Yoongi guy is really into marking!” Trina yells out with a grin.

“Yoongi is really into marking…” Holly eyes you with horror in her eyes.

“Yoongi! Yoongi! Yoongi!” Trina begins chanting, she looks over at Holly and lightly taps her thigh to get her to start chanting the name as well.

“Guys…” You whine into your hands, “It wasn’t Yoongi.” You must be admitting that because you’ve had a few mimosas.

Silence. The room falls undeniably quiet.

“Wait what?” Trina asks, her wide grin beginning to fade.

“Did you meet with someone else last night?” Holly begins to pry.

“Did you go to a bar or something and meet a rando?”

“Did you bump into someone on the street?”

“Did you call up and old boyfriend? An old hookup?”

“Guys!” You yell out, “I met up with Jungkook last night!”

Once again, the room goes silent.

“You what?” Trina asks plainly, “What does that have to do with the hickeys on your neck?”

“Really Trina?” your head falls into your hands, “We kind of…”

“You guys fucked? Really?” Trina’s serious tone is back.

“No! We just got really drunk and made out! That’s it!”

“But is that really it for you?” To your surprise, it’s Holly who asks this.

“It’s fine. We were just drunk. We decided not to be weird about it. And we won’t.”

“How can you be sure of that?” Trina asks, her voice gone soft.

“Because I will text him in a few days, he’s going to text back. Or I’ll call and he will answer like normal. I’ll ask to hang out or something and we will just be two friends who hang. It will go just like that!”

Except it doesn’t go like that at all. A few days pass and you decided to text Jungkook in the morning after you woke up. You don’t expect to hear back from him for a couple of hours since he will probably sleep in. But hours and hours go by and it’s the afternoon now and you still haven’t heard from him.

“You have reached the voicemail box of…” You click the end button on your phone again for like, the 6thtime. Why isn’t Jungkook answering? It’s a Wednesday afternoon, you know you remember him saying he had today off for some reason so what is he up to? Even if he was with Vanessa, would he really ignore you like this? 6 calls in a row?

You decide to try Jimin, maybe they’re together. You look him up in your ‘Favorites’ and click clack away to calling him. After several rings the boy finally answers,

“Hey.” He says somewhat out of breath, “I’m working, what’s up?”

“Hey it’s nothing really…” you begin, “But have you heard from Jungkook…? I can’t get a hold of him…”

“Huh? No? Maybe he’s just, I don’t know, busy babe.” You can hear Jimin directing some poor child of his wrong moves on the other side of the phone.

“Look, I gotta go. But just try again in a little while, okay?”

“Can you try calling him for me?”

“Huh? Uh, sure. I’ll let you know later. Love you, bye.” Jimin hangs up and you’re left with your phone to your ear, talking to no one.

It’s Wednesday evening now, you and Holly are sharing a pie while watching some weird show on Netflix that Holly insists is good. You’re three episodes in and you’re starting to wonder when the ‘good’ part happens. It’s mostly just been weird but Holly seems invested in it. You’re trying to keep your mind busy, the thought of Jungkook making you feel antsy. You just wanted to call and see if he wanted to chill together…to prove things aren’t going to be weird between you two. Is he really going to be so fucking immature? Big deal, you made out. But to go this far to ignore you? You can’t help but feel so fucking anxious. He won’t ghost you again right?

You mindlessly stick your fork in the pie repeatedly when you feel your phone buzz. Thank God, some sort of reason to look away from this show, you think.

Jimin 6:22pm

Hey, I got a hold of Jungkook…

What the hell? So he answered to Jimin?!

Jimin 6:22pm

It’s probably best to let him be today babe, today is…not a good day

You click off your phone and throw it on the cushion to your side because what the hell does that mean? Not a good day? If he’s not having a good day then shouldn’t he like, lean on you? Wait, you’re asking for too much right? You mean, you’re the one who set boundaries. But if he’s having a bad day why ignore you? You throw the fork in the pie and set it next to Holly, she looks at you mortified that you would just throw your fucking fork. You stand to your feet and start heading to your room.

“Uh, where are you going? Things are just getting good.” Holly whines.

“I’ll be back in a little while Hol, just gotta do something real quick.” You call out from behind you, entering your room to change into some clean clothes.

Once you’re ready you grab your purse and your keys and head towards the front door, and out to your car.

It’s a really quick drive to Jungkook’s apartment, he lives so close to you it’s ridiculous. He couldn’t find an apartment that was further away from his old one? Well, still…you’re grateful it’s a short drive. You wonder how you’ll confront Jungkook. He isn’t the best at opening up so you have to go about this strategically. But knowing you, you’ll be anything but strategic. It’s just with Jungkook you really have to force it out of him—whatever it is. Even then you may get nothing.

You find a parking spot a little a ways from the building, it’s a nice refreshing two minute walk to get inside to find and ride the elevator. You remember riding this elevator with nick and oh god, cringe. You cringe so fucking hard. Speak of the devil, he’s who answers the front door after your insistent knocking.

“Oh hey y/n. What’s up?” Nick’s eyes dart from you to the rest of the hallway. “Is it just you?” he asks, “Jungkook isn’t here…”

“Can I wait inside until he gets home?” you blurt out.

“Uh, sure…” Nick opens the door wider for you to enter. You breeze past him, taking off your shoes at the entrance and make your way to the couch. Damn, you are a woman on a mission.

“Can I get you some water?” Nick offers as he closes the door.

“Sure.”

Nick comes into the living room with a glass full of water and you couldn’t be more grateful. You didn’t even realize how dry your mouth has gotten, the anticipation of Jungkook’s arrival making you nervous.

“Do you know where he went?” you take the glass from Nick and gulp down like half the glass. “He hasn’t answered me all day.”

“Wait, he doesn’t know you’re here?” Nick asks in panicked surprise. “Should you really be here? He might be with Vanessa or like, coming back with her…”

“It’s fine. I’m waiting, is that okay?” you nibble on your lips, waiting for his response.

“Yeah, I guess.” Nick shrugs, “I’ll be in my room if that’s okay? You can watch whatever on TV or like, whatever.” He smiles at you, gesturing towards the TV.

“I’ll be fine Nick.” You smile back.

More than an hour passes, a god damn miserable hour of you sitting on Jungkook and Nicks couch when you finally hear the front door being unlocked. Jungkook.

You straighten up when you hear the door beginning to open, the soft creak sounding a million times louder in your ears.

Jungkook walks through and you notice he is alone, and you sigh in relief. His shoulders are slumped and his head hangs low as he takes his shoes off and you immediately sink in your spot. What’s with him? So, you stand to your feet and clear your throat and he doesn’t even flinch. He just continues walking inside, finding his way into the kitchen. You watch as he opens up a cabinet and reaches for a glass, next he’s fishing the fridge for some fresh water and filling up his cup. He takes a few sips of his water before his dark eyes find you.

“What are you doing here?” his low voice sends a shiver down your spine.

“You went ghost on me today…I was worried.” You leave the living room to walk into the kitchen as well.

“I…” he begins as he sets the glass on the counter. “I didn’t ghost you.”

“How could I be so sure?” you step closer to him, “How come you answered Jimin but not me?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at your words, like a deer caught in headlights. He blinks at you repeatedly until he tries forming words.

“It’s nothing personal.” He settles for. “Can we talk tomorrow, y/n?”

“Where did you go today?” God, why do you sound like some weird, possessive girlfriend? You cringe at your own words.

“It doesn’t matter.” Jungkook’s eyes darken again, his voice low.

“It matters to me.”

Jungkook looks down at the floor and you notice him take a few deep breaths, like he is struggling to find a steady one.

“Talk to me, Jungkook.” You reach out to him, your fingers finding his and he flinches at your touch. “What’s wrong? Please talk to me.”

“I….” Jungkook’s voice cracks and you wish you could bring him in to hug you but you don’t. You just let him continue.

“I…have nothing to say.”

Oh. Of course. Of fucking course. Of course Jungkook chooses to stay silent. Of course he chooses not to talk to you.

“Is it Vanessa?” you finally find the courage to ask, “Did you two break—”

“No, we’re fine.” He cuts in. Jungkook frees himself from your hand and looks up at you with a strained smile, “I’m fine, y/n.”

Now, you shouldn’t feel upset. Or angry. But you do, you fucking do. It’s been almost 4 years of this same bullshit where he cannot open up to you and its starting to feel insulting.

“You’re…” you step closer to him again but he takes a step back until he’s backed into the counter. “You aren’t fine. Please talk to me, Jungkook.” You try to say calmly but you think the rage is a little evident in your voice.

“Nothing to talk about.”

“Is it because I’m a girl?”

Jungkook tilts his head to the side, not knowing what you mean by that. Yeah, that was a stupid thing to assume but you aren’t smart right now.

“You can’t confide in girls because you have trust issues? You know, because of your mom…how she left you…”

“Stop.”

“That’s it right?” You volume increases as your anger shows, “Are you fucking serious? When have I ever made you feel like you couldn’t trust me? When have I ever fucking left you?”

“Shut up.”

“No! And yeah your mom left you so you like, don’t trust girls I guess but god damn, Jungkook maybe it’s time to get over—”

“I said shut up!” Jungkook’s voice rises to a volume you have never experienced with him before.

“Have you tried looking for her?” you continue to speak, not realizing you are making everything worse.

“I know where she is.” He states, his nostrils flaring.

You flail your arms around, “Then go fucking talk to her.”

Jungkook looks at you with an unreadable expression, his shoulders to his ears and his fists balled up at his sides. He’s quiet. Too quiet. His breaths are beyond shaky and you finally notice it.

Jungkook’s eyes are glossed over and you think you may have gone too far. His lip begins trembling and he tries to speak but no words come out. He struggles to speak to you and it makes you blink at him like an idiot. Why can’t he speak?

“Jung—”

Jungkook lifts a hand up to stop you from talking any further. He inhales sharp breaths and releases shaky ones. His eyes are full of tears but none fall. He stares down at the ground just trying to do something as easy as breathing, but he falls short.

“Jung—”

“Please.” He croaks out. Jungkook walks to the couch and sits down, his head falling into his hands and you aren’t entirely sure at first but after a few moments you really realize…he is softly and quietly crying. Your Jungkook who never cries in front of anyone is sitting on his living room couch crying. You’re speechless. You also don’t know what to do. Do you try to comfort him? Do you leave him alone? But how could you leave him alone when he sits on his fucking living room couch sniffling away?

You hesitantly walk towards the sofa and take a seat next to him. He doesn’t lift his head to look at you, just continues crying into his hands. You don’t have to think about it, you reach your hand to rub soothing circles on his back and start whispering words of comfort in his ear.

Several moments pass when Jungkook finally lifts his head from his hands, but he still doesn’t look at you.

“Mom…” he clears his throat. “Mom didn’t just leave us. She left everything. She left me.”

“I know Jungkook…I’m sorry… I just lashed out on you, you can heal at your own pace and if she wants to see you again, she will.” You continue to rub his back.

“No, you don’t get it.” Jungkook murmurs. “Mom was hurting a lot. You know?” he begins to get choked up, his throat burning.

“Dad cheated, yes. But he was also neglectful of her and she was in a lot of pain,” he sniffs repeatedly, wiping his nose on his sleeve.

“She felt like she had no one, not even me.” Jungkook face scrunches up as he resists more tears.

“She couldn’t even rely on me.”

Fuck. You know where this is going. It is all starting to make sense.

“Mom killed herself when I was 16.” Jungkook finally says, his voice barely above a whisper, like he was too afraid to say it out loud. Like it made it more real.

“Dad didn’t take it well…he started drinking and I rarely saw him around…I had to take care of myself.” Jungkook finally lets the tears fall.

“I hated him. I still do.” Jungkook clenches his jaw.

You sit on the couch unable to comprehend what Jungkook has gone through. You feel like the biggest bitch alive. You forced your best friend to reopen his wounds in front of you and you had the audacity to pour salt in them.

“Jungkook I’m so—”

“Forget it.” He’s quick to cut you off. You stare at him with wide eyes, your own tears staining your cheeks.

“Please leave me alone for a while.” He whispers and immediately you stop him from rising from the couch.

“No!” you pull him back down. He doesn’t even resist, he falls back to your side and you lead his head to rest on your beating chest.

“I’m here for you, Jungkook.”

And that’s it. That’s what it took for Jungkook to scrunch and twist his face until more tears begin flowing out of his swollen eyes. He cries into your shirt, wetting the material.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” You pat his head, your fingers weaving through his dark locks.

Jungkook cries like this for several minutes, until he’s wiping away his tears and snot with his shirt sleeve. He rises from your chest and looks at you with a painful expression.

“Today is mom’s birthday.” He admits.

Fuck.

“I went to her grave today…” he sniffles, “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you before. It’s just…” he starts crying again, “Saying it out loud. Makes it real, don’t you think?” His face is swollen and puffy from his tears and you can’t stop your own tears from sliding down your cheeks.

“Jungkook, I’m so, so sorry.” You feel awful. You can’t even fathom what he has gone through…

“It’s okay, this was bound to happen eventually right?” he laughs awkwardly, snot still dripping from his nose.

“I shouldn’t have forced it out of you…God, I am so sorry.”

“I…” Jungkook’s eyes refill with tears as he tries to speak again, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before, I really am. I tried so many times but I just couldn’t say it out loud. I just couldn’t.” The tears fall down his face once again, “I tried.” He begins to cry harder. “I really tried y/n.”

You heart breaks. This is a sight you never want to see again but if anyone has to see it you want it to be you.

“Baby…” you whisper. “I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

“You’d never leave me…right?” Jungkook chokes on his words as he speaks. “I couldn’t handle it.”

You shut your eyes as you think about what Jungkook has gone through. You think about why he’s been so closed off and why he has troubles with people sometimes—especially girls.

“I wouldn’t ever leave you.” You say in promise. “You’re too important to me.”

Jungkook’s face falls back into your chest, he cries into your shirt for several more minutes as you rub his back and play with his hair.

“Wasn’t I important to mom too?” You hear him whisper.

Your heart breaks even more.

“Of course you were, Jungkook.” You try to save, “I know she must have loved you a lot.”

“Then why?”

“She must of thought you were going to be strong enough without her…” Your fingers thread through his hair again, “And you are. But you know, you aren’t completely without her…��� Your hand goes to his chest, over his beating heart.

“She’s here too, with you.”

And with that, Jungkook sobs harder. Like, it’s the first time he’s cried over this. And you wonder if it is. He’s gripping on to your shirt so tightly as he releases intense sob after the other. Your heart continues to fucking break.

“I’m here. I’m here.”

It’s been quiet the last 30 minutes, neither you nor Jungkook have spoken. He’s not even crying anymore, just lightly sniffling every now and then. You wonder if he has fallen asleep. You wouldn’t be surprised, all that crying will take out all the energy out of a person…

You lean your head down to get a look at Jungkook’s peaceful face…he is sleeping. You feel yourself relax as you continue to play with his hair. He needs the rest, you think.

You feel your own eye lids getting heavy and you let yourself fall asleep as well. Jungkook snuggles deeper into your side, his face nuzzling in your chest and you hold him tighter. You two sleep like this for many hours until you’re being woken up at the sound of the blender going.

The living room is lit up with sunlight and your eyes blink lazily. You realize Jungkook isn’t sleeping with you anymore and you start to panic. Where did he go? Then the blender goes off again and you decide to stand from the couch, even though your body feels so heavy.

Jungkook is in the kitchen when you walk over, he’s got his back turned to you and you creep up behind him.

“Boo.” You say, wrapping your arms around him.

“When will you realize that will never work on me?” Jungkook lightly chuckles, “Sorry to wake you up. I figure I could make us some fruit smoothies.” He turns around in your hold. You eye him up and notice how puffy his eyes are and you feel your heart drop.

“Fruit smoothie sounds delicious.” You squeeze him tighter and Jungkook laughs a wonderful laugh. It’s loud and full and filled with joy.

“Hug me back.”

Jungkook smiles down at you and circles his arms around your waist, “Sorry, sorry.”

You smile back up at him and lean your head on his body, he feels so warm it could melt you.

“About last night…” Jungkook begins pulling away from you, “I’m sorry I kind of…”

“You don’t have to apologize.” You cut in. “It’s my fault.”

“No y/n…I’m glad things happened the way they did. I actually feel so much better.” He admits, “Lighter, even.”

“Oh? Well, good. But I am still so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay baby.” He goes back in to hug you tighter. You feel his strong arms hold on to you and you want to stay like this forever. You would if you could. But—

“Shit. What time is it?” You step back from him, digging in your pocket for your phone. “Holy hell, I’m going to be late for work.”

“Then get going. I’ll text you later?” Jungkook asks with hope filling his eyes.

“Yeah.” You smile.

~~~~~~

Work was lame as usual, nothing eventful happened. Yoongi must have been too busy at the shop today since he didn’t come in for cookies. You decide you will go see him at the record shop tomorrow but for now…you’re dealing with something else—someone else.

“Oh? You thought Trina wouldn’t tell me?” It’s Jimin. He’s sitting on the edge of your bed with a popsicle between his lips. “Huh Miss Hickeys?”

“Jimin.” You drag his name out, “It’s not a big deal!” you throw your hands up in exasperation. “We were just really drunk and it didn’t mean anything. Just two drunk idiots.”

“Idiots, for sure.” Jimin sucks on the tip of the popsicle while he speaks.

“Seriously, it isn’t a big deal. We’re both over it.”

“Are you? You like him and he…fuck, this is getting so ridiculous. Promise me, just promise me…you will tell him the truth? You might be sur—”

“Jimin, stop.”

Jimin huffs out a deep, long breath and rolls his eyes at you.

“No.” he says matter of fact. “I won’t stop until you two talk.”

“Anyway there’s something more important we need to talk about…” you begin, “He told me about his mom.”

Jimin’s expression goes from shocked to guilty. He takes a few moments to finish the popsicle, biting the last inch or two and throwing the stick in the trashcan.

“I know. He told me.”

“Oh.”

“He’s been wanting to tell you for a long time y/n…but he just—”

“I know. It must have been really hard for him…all this time…”

“Yeah.” Jimin bows his head, “Me and Tae are the only ones who know because we were friends with him when it happened. That’s the only reason why or else I’m not sure anyone would know.”

“Is that…is that Jungkook’s secret? That you three…”

Jimin’s eyes expand as he realizes what you are talking about.

“N-No.” He admits softly, “That’s something else. That’s something Jungkook will definitely have to tell you on his own and trust me if you guys just talked…”

You tilt your head in confusion. What’s the correlation?

“Anyway, Jimin has Jungkook ever cried to you? About it all?” you ask, curiosity getting the best of you.

“He didn’t even cry at the funeral y/n.”

Fuck. You had a feeling. But knowing for sure is a whole other thing. The way Jungkook broke down in front of you felt like it was his first time and maybe it was and that makes your heart ache.

“Did he…cry? In front of you?” Jimin asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah…”

“Oh… he must really trust you.”

You only nod your head in response.

“If you guys just learned to communicate better…I’m really rooting for you two.”

Your heart swells at Jimin’s little confession and you nod your head again, this time with tears pricking at the corner of your eyes.

“Thanks Jimin.” Finally, you feel supported. And it makes you breathe just a little easier.

“I know things haven’t always been easy with you two ever since the Tae thing…but honestly this goes back even further. Doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. We…I don’t know what’s with us.” You chuckle bitterly.

“I do. And I am going to force you two to talk one of these days. I swear on it. I will give you guys some time but damn babe, this is just…” Jimin releases a long breath. “Just don’t give up, okay?”

“Can’t you just tell me?” you don’t mean to sound like you are begging but you kind of do.

“No. It’s truly truly not my place.”

“I can’t just assume what you are talking about, you know? I can’t hope for the best then get crushed. That’s too scary, Jimin.”

“I understand babe.” Jimin scoots closer to you until he’s within arms-reach and caresses your calve. “Just talk to him, please.”

“Too scary.”

“One of these days one of you will have the courage.”

~~~~~~

“And what could be in this little baggy of yours?” Yoongi grins, showing his wonderful gummy smile.

“I brought you 2 cookies Mister Oatmeal Raisin!” You shake the little bag in front of his face in a teasing manner and he chuckles.

“What did I do to deserve your kindness?” He takes the baggy from you and inspects both cookies. “You decided not to be bratty today?” he questions with a smile. “These cookies are perfect.”

You decided to visit the record shop today, on this fine afternoon. It’s one of those days where it’s cloudy and looks like it could rain but it never does. You love days like that.

“This place looks so nice!” you say, bobbing your head around to get a proper look.

“There’s a section where you can sit and drink coffee…it’s not much but its cozy. Wanna check it out?” Yoongi offers, gesturing towards the other side of the shop.

“Yeah.” You say, “Lead the way.”

He guides you to the other side of the shop next to a window. There’s a table for two and he’s right—it is cozy looking.

You sit down and wait for Yoongi as he fetches two coffees, which you are so excited about since you have a fucking addiction.

He sets a cup down in front of you and takes his seat.

“So any new happy moments in life? Anything new to be grateful for?”

“I—”

“That’s a trick question,” Yoongi’s eyes go small as he smiles widely, “There’s always new moments to be grateful for.”

You can’t help but laugh, you bring the steaming hot coffee to your mouth and you blow on the liquid multiple times before bringing it to your lips and taking a sip.

“Yes I guess so.” You smile.

“And what are they?”

“I’m grateful the sun is hiding today, I like the clouds a lot.”

“I love that.” Yoongi takes a sip of his own coffee. “What else?”

“I’m happy you brought me coffee.”

“I’m glad I somehow made it on your list of things.”

“What about you?” you ask.

“I’m grateful my A.C is working again!” he laughs, “It was actually broken for a couple days and I had like 5 fans plugged in around the place. I don’t think anyone wanted to come in here.”

“Oh no! Well, I’m glad it’s working!”

“How are things with your friend Jungkook? You guys were complicated last time I checked.”

You raise your brows in surprise that Yoongi would bring up Jungkook. But somehow you also aren’t surprised, it seems Yoongi takes a genuine interest in your life.

“We’re actually doing okay…” You bring the coffee back to your lips, taking another sip when—

“Have you told him your feelings yet?” Yoongi casually takes a gulp of coffee as you choke on yours.

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry…was that too forward?” Yoongi sets his cup down. “To be fair, you both are very obvious.

“What do you means us ‘both’?” You grab a napkin and wipe your chin where coffee dribbled.

“He clearly likes you too.” Yoongi stares at you as you stare back with a blank expression, and he laughs. “You two remind me of myself and someone I used to know.”

“Used to?”

“We were never on the same page…too many missed opportunities that it ruined anything we could have had.” Yoongi frowns for a split second before breaking out into a soft, gummy smile. “I’d hate to see that happen to you.”

“Yoongi—”

“But if it does then better for me?” he whispers with a smile in his voice.

“What do you mean by—”

“Oh. But he has a girlfriend, right?” Yoongi cuts you off with his question.

“Not exactly but basically…”

Vanessa. Your stomach drops at the mention of her and you hate it. Why does she have to have such a strong affect on you? Why does she even have to exist? You mean, she can exist but maybe not in your life—or Jungkook’s life.

Suddenly, the doors bell goes off with a ding and Yoongi is smiling brightly at whoever just walked in. You continue to sip your coffee not giving it much mind.

“Taehyung!” Yoongi shouts out, standing from his chair to wave over his friend.

Wait, Taehyung? He can’t mean the same Taehyung—

“y/n?”

Oh shit. You turn around in your seat and your face falls when you see him. Even on this cloudy day his skin is so golden like the sun is shining down on him, he looks bright and beautiful. As usual.

“Hi Taehyung.” You wave awkwardly. He can immediately tell how uncomfortable you are, his face deepening into a frown.

“I can come by later…” he offers to you.

“No, no. Don’t be ridiculous.” You try smiling but it’s quite tense.

Yoongi looks between you two and he points between your bodies.

“You two know each other?”

“We went to school together, had mutual friends blah blah blah.” You say.

Taehyung only agrees with the nod of his head. Yoongi blinks at your two and opens his mouth to say ‘Ah.’ And heads to the back for another cup of coffee.

“How have you been y/n?” Taehyung asks awkwardly, he shifts from one foot to the other as he stands here.

“Pretty good, I think.”

“You think?” he chuckles. “Hey, sorry if my texts bother you…”

“They don’t.” you say honestly. “Sorry I don’t always reply.”

“It’s okay, I understand. How’s…Jungkook?” Taehyung eyes shoot down to the floor. “He doesn’t answer my texts either. It really hurts to see years of friendship go down the drain…”

“He’s mad at you Tae,” You begin, “But I think one of these days he will chill out.” You laugh and this makes Taehyung ease up.

“He really fucking loves you.”

“Well we are best friends… sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“We kind of stopped talking for a little while but we’re back to being friends.” You try explaining but Yoongi is walking back in with a cup of coffee in hand. He hands it to Taehyung, which he accepts gratefully.

“You’re here for that new Jazz mix record, right? I have it behind the counter for you.” Yoongi says to Taehyung and Taehyung only gives him a thumbs up. He eyes you curiously, wondering what the hell happened between you and Jungkook.

“I have to get back to work boys!” You stand from the table, “Thanks for the coffee Yoongs”

Yoongi smiles at the new nickname.

“And maybe I’ll see you around, Tae?”

“Yeah.” Taehyung gives you his signature boxy grins and you feel like maybe things all around are getting better. Just maybe.

~~~~~

Jungkook has his hands knotted in Vanessa’s hair as she chokes on his cock, her lips wrapped around it fully.

“Fuck.” Jungkook whines out, “I’m so close.”

Vanessa only moans in response, she continues to bob her head up and down on his dick making his orgasm approach quickly.

“Gonna come, gonna come.”

And he does, he comes down her throat and she swallows it all perfectly. Only a drop or two left behind on her lips which she quickly wipes away with her fingers.

Vanessa stands to her feet and Jungkook pulls her in for a quick kiss.

“That was good…” he says, somewhat out of breath.

“Glad.” She says smoothly, going in for another kiss. This time she lingers, her lips lasting for a moment longer on his.

Vanessa’s fingers brush against his neck, she traces the outline of one last bruise left on the side below his ear.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” she smiles coyly. “You two sure are weird.” She says flatly.

“Vanessa…”

“It’s fine. I know you know I still see him. It’s not like we agreed to be exclusive.” She taps her skinny fingers on his chest.

“But we are trying aren’t we? To make this work?”

“You aren’t trying very hard, are you?” the amusement in her voice doesn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook.

“He cheated on you, Vanessa. Why are you still seeing him? I thought you said he has a girlfriend now?”

Vanessa pauses her tapping on his chest, her eyes go wide for a second. Like, for a second she wasn’t void of emotion.

“He does.” She says smoothly before she begins tapping her fingers against his chest again.

“He cheated on me with this girl.” She admits, “Little does this bitch know—”

“Is that healthy? Getting revenge?” Jungkook asks, concern lacing his voice.

Vanessa continues to tap her fingers as she narrows her eyes at Jungkook.

“You want to talk to me about what’s healthy?” her empty laugh fills the room.

“I want you to stop.” Jungkook’s hands go to her hips, “Let’s be exclusive, Vanessa.”

“I can’t stop…” she whispers softly, “I can’t let go.”

Jungkook observes Vanessa for a few moments, she looks as vulnerable as she did the first time she talked about her ex with him. He feels sorry for her. He really does want her to move on, for her own sake.

“You can move forward, Vanessa. You have me.”

Vanessa looks into his eyes, studying his serious expression. She can tell he means well but…she doesn’t have him. She never will.

“Please Vanessa, we can make this work.” He begs, yes begs.

Vanessa tilts her head to the side. Oh? This must be his desperation talking, she thinks. His desperation to get over you. She knows this. And she doesn’t hold it against him and instead she decides to help him.

“Okay, let’s make this work.”

~~~~~~~

y/n 8:09pm

On a scale of 1-10 how bad do you wanna watch spirited away right now?

Jungkook 8:15pm

11 girl don’t play

y/n 8:16pm

I thought so, I think this means you need to come over and watch it w meeee

Jungkook 8:20pm

Lemme shower and I’ll be over:)

y/n 8:22pm

Bring beer pllllssss

Jungkook 8:42pm

On my way

y/n 8:45pm

Drive safe bb

It’s around 9pm exactly when you hear soft knocking on the front door. You scurry towards the door and open it, finding Jungkook on the other side. He is wearing your favorite gray puma sweat suit and his hair is wavy and damp. He smiles at you when he sees you eyeing him up and down.

“Like what you see?” he teases.

“Wow, what a classic line Jungkook. Real original.” You scoff, letting the boy through.

Jungkook walks in, setting down a case of beer on the breakfast table.

“I brought our favorite.” He gestures towards the beer on the table. “Let’s drink it while it’s nice and chilly.”

“Agreed. I already have the movie set up.” You point towards the T.V “Ready for our viewing pleasure.”

“Where’s Holly?” Jungkook takes two beers from the case, handing one over to you.

“Her and Trina went out to some bar, I didn’t feel like going.” You take the beer and twist off the cap, Jungkook does the same. You two clank the bottles together in cheers and take a few sips.

“Ah.” You say, the refreshing beer making you feel well, refreshed.

“Because you don’t feel like going to a bar? Or because you would rather hang out with me?” Jungkook smirks, taking another sip of his beer.

“Because I didn’t feel like getting pretty.” You bring the beer to your lips, but you don’t drink from the bottle, just waiting for a response instead.

“You’re always pretty.”

You take a sip of the beer, feeling satisfied with his response. “I know.” You half joke.

“Let’s go to a bar.” Jungkook blurts out.

“W-What?”

“Let’s go in our lounge clothes.” He smiles, “Let’s just do it.”

“No!” you laugh out, “We look like slobs. Well, I do. You look…” your hand motions towards his body, “You know, you look…”

“Are you trying to say I’m hot, y/n?” Jungkook’s sly smile grows as he drinks his beer.

“You know what I mean.” You huff out.

“Well, I think the same of you. So let’s go.”

You can’t help but laugh, you continue to drink your beer back, the liquid settling nicely.

“Okay. Fuck it, let’s do it.” You can’t help but grin, the idea of going to a bar in yoga pants and a t shirt with your sort of best friend sounds so great to you.

“But maybe a little makeup…” Jungkook starts chuckling as you hit his arm with your fist.

“Shut up.”

The bar is mostly pretty casual, maybe not as casual as you and Jungkook but still casual.

Only a small handful of people are actually dressed nicely, but mostly are in jeans and nice shirts. Somehow Jungkook is still the hottest guy here. Even in his sweat suit. You’re surprised you two even got let in, does this place not have some sort of dress code? Guess not.

It’s pretty loud inside, the place has a live band and a decent dance floor. You and Jungkook head towards the bar and take your seats.

The bartender takes a few minutes to reach you two and when she does she automatically nods at Jungkook for his order.

“Two long islands please.” He says, he smirks towards you and you smile back. Long islands? Oh you’re getting drunk drunk tonight.

“You got it.” She smiles at him with all her teeth, and turns around to start mixing the drinks.

“Long islands, huh?” you rest your head in your hand on the bar top.

“I figure neither of us are driving tonight, we might as well go hard.” Jungkook smiles at you. “I’ll buy this first round?”

“Sounds good to me.” You bump fists with Jungkook with a wide smile. “Wanna make a bet?”

“What’s that?” Jungkook quirks a brow at you.

“I bet you $5 that by the end of the night the bartender will hit on you.”

“But I also bet $5 that the bartender will hit on me.” Jungkook pouts.

You stare at him in disbelief at his cockiness and you burst out into giggles.

“Fair enough.” You say between laughs.

The bartender slides two drinks to you and Jungkook, she twists and twirls her hair in her fingers as she asks Jungkook how it tastes. He takes a sip and gives her a thumbs up, you can’t help but snicker.

“Can we also get two tequila shots?” you wave at the bartender. She turns to face you and frowns.

“Sure.” She puts on a fake smile and turns to fill up two shot glasses with tequila. She sets them in front of you a Jungkook and tells you the amount due.

“Tequila shots? Are we trying to fucking die tonight?” Jungkook chuckles from beside you. He grabs two limes and hands you one.

“To us.” You say, lifting your shot in the air.

“To you.” Jungkook whispers as you clank glasses and throw back the shots.

Holy shit, you are fucking wasted. After several tequila shots and a few long islands you and Jungkook are barely holding on. Okay, fine. It’s not that bad. But you guys are really drunk!

His hand hasn’t left your waist for hours, and it feels so fucking nice. It feels perfect. It feels right.

“y/n?” a voice calls out to you. You know this voice, really well in fact.

“Taehyung!” you cheer. You stumble forward and go in for a high five and his drunk ass high fives you back.

“Fancy seeing you again.” You giggle.

Jungkook’s hand grips your waist tighter as he narrows his eyes at Taehyung.

“What do you mean again?” Jungkook asks, his voice low.

“We ran into each other at my friend Yoongi’s” you slur out.

“Hi Jungkookie.” Taehyung awkwardly sways back and forth, his words also slurred. It’s obvious he’s on the same level as drunk as you.

“…Hey.” Jungkook hesitates to respond, he looks between you two. “y/n…is this okay? Talking to him?”

“Hm? Oh? Yeah.” You stare at Jungkook blankly. Why wouldn’t it be, you think.

“Jungkook, maybe we could talk just the two of us?”

You look between the boys and somehow you feel yourself sobering up just a bit.

“Uh. I’ll go to the bathroom.” You say, already walking away.

“You know how sorry I feel.” Taehyung begins, “About everything.”

“What’s everything?” Jungkook mumbles under his breath.

“I’m sorry for what I did to y/n. But I am also sorry for holding your secret over you like that to keep mine.”

“Yeah,” Jungkook slurs out, “That was fucked up.”

“I miss you guys…” Taehyung takes a sip of his drink, “Even Jimin barely talks to me.”

“Shouldn’t have messed with our girl.”

“You mean, your girl.” Taehyung drunkenly corrects Jungkook.

“Whatever.”

“Seriously man, when are you just going to grow the fucking balls?” Taehyung raises his voice just a bit, “It’s clear how you both feel—”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about man, plus I have a girlfriend now—”

“You guys are official now?” You walk up to the boys, cutting in. You feel like maybe he’s just saying that.

“y/n…yeah, we just made it official.” Jungkook admits, running a hand through his hair, sighing out in frustration.

Oh. You feel your heart begin to crumble. They’re dating for real now?

“Do you have feelings for her?” You blurt out.

Jungkook shifts from one foot to another, he breathes in and out in and out. He bites on his bottom lip, thinking of how to respond.

“I don’t know what to say to that.”

Well, at least he’s honest.

“Well, I’m going to head back to my friends…” Taehyung butts in awkwardly. “It was nice seeing you two.” And with that he’s slipping away in the crowd.

“Wanna dance?” you say, trying your best to change the subject. You decide you don’t want to know his answer.

“Sure.” Jungkook smiles at you, he reaches for your hand and you squeeze his tightly. You guide him to the dance floor, the song is a slow one. You two look at one another but there’s nothing awkward about this. He guides your arms to wrap around his neck and his hands circle around your waist, he pulls you in close as you two sway to the music.

“Never go 3 months without me again.” You whisper into his neck.

“W-Why are you bringing that up now?”

“I have to keep my eyes on you, Jungkook. Without my supervision you go off and get yourself a girlfriend.” Your drunken words pierce his heart.

“Is that a problem?” He whispers back. “Yes, a big problem.” You lean back to get a look at his face, he’s already staring down at you, he somehow brings you in even closer.

“Whys that?” He breathes out.

“Want you all for myself.” You admit, drunk words are sober thoughts right?

“You want me baby?” Jungkook leans down until he’s so close, like he cannot control it.

“Yes.” You blink up at him, your lips parted.

The song changes but you two continue to dance like it’s a slow song.

“I bet you $5 that some guy will hit on you in the next couple of minutes.”

You tilt your head and drunkenly giggle, “I highly doubt that.”

Jungkook reaches in his back pocket and hands you a five dollar bill.

“What’s this f—”

“You’re so fucking beautiful” and then his lips are just a mere inch away from yours before he’s pulling back with a look of horror and guilt plastered on his face.

“I—I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I’m with Vanessa now. I’m just drunk. I’m really drunk. You’re really drunk. We don’t know what we’re doing.” He drunkenly rambles.

You feel your heart sink down into your lower belly, you feel it crack and break into a million pieces. That’s right. Vanessa. He’s making it work with that girl.

“Yeah, it’s okay.”

“You’re my best friend y/n.” Jungkook slurs out, “I’m trying so hard not to ruin that.”

You only nod your head.

“Let’s go home.” You say.

~~~~~~

Your bed is comfy as ever, especially this drunk. Jungkook takes his shirt off and slips into the sheets, settling next to you.

“Wanna cuddle?” he offers.

“I don’t know if Vanessa would like that.” You slur.

“Right.” Jungkook lays on his back, his arms folding beneath his head. “Should I sleep in the living room?”

“No. I want you here.” You admit between soft breaths. “I always want you here.” You yawn out.

“Good.” Jungkook reaches out to hold you, “I don’t think Vanessa will mind if I cuddle my best friend for just five minutes.”

“Five minutes only” you tease. You shuffle closer to him, his warmth escaping his body and clinging to yours.

You two fall asleep like this. Morning comes slowly, like the world is giving you a chance to really appreciate one another’s company. Like the world knows that moments like this are so hard to come by. Like the world knows that you two need this.

When you wake up the next day, its half past noon. You’re still in Jungkook’s arms while he is dead asleep. You nuzzle into his chest and thank the world for giving you this moment. This moment to embrace him like he is yours, a moment to kiss his cheek like he is yours, a moment to whisper you love him like he is yours.

But he isn’t. He isn’t yours and that’s the reality. But you thank the world nonetheless. Because you need these moments to stay sane. But how do you two always end up like this? Can you keep blaming the alcohol? He tried to kiss you last night and that’s also the reality.

Jungkook wanted to kiss you. Can he keep saying it’s just because he’s drunk?

But he’s with Vanessa now and you have to respect that. And you will respect that.

You thank the world though, that right now he’s in your arms, breathing your air, and sharing this moment. Just you and him.

Finally, after another half hour Jungkook begins to stir in his sleep.

You stare at him as he wakes up and his sleepy eyes find yours.

“G’morning.” His voice is low and raspy and you want to swoon.

“Hi.”

“We…” he looks between your bodies. “Didn’t do anything, right?”

You feel your chest tighten, “No, Jungkook.” You answer calmly.

“Okay…” Jungkook frowns, “We can’t keep doing this, can we?”

Somehow you know exactly what he’s talking about, you can’t keep building this tension between you two. It goes nowhere.

“No” You admit softly, “We can’t.”

You think about Jimin’s words…could Jungkook…? But you don’t want to jump to happy conclusions, put yourself out there and then be wrong. But he tried to fucking kiss you. The girls were right, is this really all for you? You can’t keep doing this. It’s not good for you. “We really can’t.” you say again.

Jungkook smiles, but its soft and sad and makes you want to kiss his pouting lips until he shows you a real smile but you can’t.

“I’m sorry about last night.” Jungkook moves to his back, he stares up at the ceiling.

“I was just really drunk.” He continues, “Drunk me is wild.” He chuckles awkwardly.

“Is that really an excuse anymore?” you feel brave enough to say.

“y/n…”

“Forget it. We’re okay.”

“Are we?” Jungkook moves back to his side, facing you. He gives you a troubled look and you melt. Why are you always melting because of this man?

“Yeah. What’s more important is that your birthday is next week…”

“Oh yeah.”

“Can I be in charge of your party?”

“I don’t want a party, just a couple of friends.”

“Let me host it!”

“Okay, fine.” Jungkook smiles, “I can’t wait.”

“Do I have to invite Vanessa?”

“y/n.” Jungkook groans.

“Kidding!” you sing. Although, you aren’t entirely sure that you’re just kidding.

“It would be nice if you could plan this with Vanessa actually…she mentioned wanting to do something nice for my birthday too.” He sort of whispers out, like he didn’t want you to actually hear.

“Oh.” You aren’t sure what to say. You obviously don’t want co-host a get together with Vanessa but she is his girlfriend after all.

“Fine.”

You and Vanessa? Let’s see how this goes.

[sundaysundaes]

Revival

Jung Jaehyun X Reader feat. Haechan | Fluff, Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Soulmate AU | NC-17 | 15k

Summary: When fate brought Jung Jaehyun to you, it didn’t feel like your first time meeting him. And with him, smiling at you like his heart shattering to pieces, eyes painted with longing, you knew you were connected to him somehow. You just have to find the answers before it’s too late.

Warnings: sex scenes (both with Jaehyun and Haechan), mentions of death and suicide 

For my lovely cinnamon bun Esme @rainydayswithnct​ I couldn’t think of anything else to give you but this. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, I hope this will make you happy ❤️

His eyes… They remind you of the ocean after the storm. 

It’s not the color as his are dark brown, like the freshly turned earth after rain. It’s the feeling, the way they glimmer under the soft evening light, calm and steady, but in a way, emits sadness, yearning for something. As if he had been crushed, trapped inside a hurricane for so long, he was about to fade into the void. And as he peered into your eyes, full of depths and secrets you long to unveil, something tugs upon your heartstring. 

It’s not love at a first sight. You’ve experienced that before with Lee Donghyuck, the lover whom you share frantic kisses and desperate touches with. But it’s something more intense, something you can’t even begin to fathom, something you wish you understand.

The second your eyes are locked to each other, it’s like you’re electrocuted, starting from the tip of your hair down to your toes.

“Oh, sorry,” you say, your voice sounds like you haven’t spoken in years. A tiny red spot begins to form on his chin from where it made contact with your head earlier. “I was looking for a book so I wasn’t—I didn’t see you there.”

The man, young enough to be around your age with a gaze wiser than most, has an expression of a heartbroken man. There’s pain that fleets through his eyes, a feeling that he quickly hides with a smile too bright to be genuinely coming from the heart. When he speaks, his voice is both rich and soft, deep and tender. “No, it was my fault.” He shakes his head. “Please don’t apologize.”

You want to reach out to him, want to know why he looks like he’s seconds away from breaking apart, want to ask him whether you’ve said too much or too less. But he’s nothing but a stranger and you don’t want to step out of the line. “Were you looking for a book?”

“Yes, umm…” He points his finger towards a book hidden in the shelf behind you. “That one.”

You follow his direction, smiling when you read the title written on its spine. “No wonder we bumped heads. I was aiming for the same book.”

“Oh, then it’s fine,” he says, pushing the book back to you after you handed it to him. “You can take it.”

“No, please, go ahead. I’ve read this too many times already.”

“Me too. So—”

“I insist.” You press the book to his chest, looking up at him. He looms before you, standing 180 centimeters tall that you have to tilt your head up to match his line of vision. You catch a sniff of his scent, the smell of soap and aftershave, thinly layered by cologne. His eyelashes are long, face framed by strong jawlines, brunette locks falling over his forehead. When his lips curve up, pretty dimples start to form in his cheeks. He looks like a painting, a thought runs through your mind, one that you hastily dismiss. “Take it as a form of my apology for bruising your chin,” you add.

His eyes widen, just for a split second before a soft chuckle reverberates from his chest. When he speaks again, it’s almost like a whisper—like a secret never meant to be told, “I can never win against you.”

You barely catch his words. “Sorry, what?”

“Nothing.” He clears his throat, hiding his eyes behind his bangs. “I’m… I was about to borrow this and grab some coffee. Would you care to join me? I’d love to talk more.” His body language indicates that he’s nervous which you find rather endearing. “I mean, It’s hard to find someone who has a similar taste like mine.”

Your heart convulses. You know how grabbing some coffee together tends to lead to something more. Your boyfriend’s name pops in your head but your lips betray you before your brain can form a warning. “Well, I do have a peculiar taste when it comes to books,” you answer with a smile. “Sure, as long as you tell me your name.”

“Right, sorry.” You love the sound he makes when he chuckles, and you love it more when it echoes louder in your ears. He offers his hand, stretching out his lean fingers. “I’m Jaehyun.”

You expect it to be soft just like the way he’s gazing at you, but his palm feels calloused against your own. When you reply to him with your name, he seems stunned but doesn’t stay still for long. Your name flows out of his mouth so naturally, as if he has been calling you for years, like a soulmate to another. It feels like electricity is running through your veins once more, something that you’ve never experienced before.

It takes around ten minutes to walk from the library to the nearest coffee shop and by then, you’ve caught on the little gestures he makes: the way he forces himself to laugh a little when he notices he’s being too straightforward; the way he clears his throat when he feels like his words have more hidden meanings than they let on. You’ve become aware of his passion and the love he has for books, so strong that it can only be matched by your own. You’ve learned about his dream, a novelist in the making, taking his first baby steps to turn it into reality.

“Have you thought about what kind of story you’re planning to write?” You question as you slide your cup closer with hot, black coffee shimmering inside. Before you take a sip, Jaehyun drags a sugar bowl toward your direction. “What?”

“It’s too bitter for you.”

“You think I can’t handle my coffee?”

“It’s not that.” He clears his throat and you wonder what is it that he’s trying to hide. “The coffees here are always too bitter.”

“Yeah?” You taunt him, smirking. “Well, watch me.” You take a sip, about to wince when the bitter taste hits your tongue but you act unfazed. Smacking your lips, you say, “See? I’m fine.”

“You’re sure?”

“No. Give me the damn sugar.” 

It doesn’t take long before Jaehyun’s little laughter becomes one of your most favorite sounds in the world. 

“I’m planning to write a romance novel,” he responds to your earlier question.

“Romance, huh? To be honest, I see you more as someone who writes detective stories. Never would’ve pegged you as a romantic.”

“Well, it’s supposed to be more than just a romance story. It has a supernatural element to it. Borderline fantasy.”

“Like what?”

He takes a few seconds before he responds quietly with a secretive smile. “I guess you’ll just have to read to find out.”

“Cheapskate.” You purse your lips. “Is it going to have a happy ending?”

“Well, they’ll be separated by death in the end.”

“No,” you drawl out. “What happens to them? You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me about it.”

“Of course, I can.” There’s a tiny smirk creeping up his lips. “I’m the author.”

“And a jerk too, apparently.” You’re worried you might go too far with your joke but Jaehyun still peers at you with that warm, longing eyes that make you curl your toes.

“Fine, then,” he succumbs. “Since you insist, I’ll give you a hint later. But you’ll have to imagine the rest.”

“Then tell you about it? What if you steal my idea?” You raise an eyebrow, teasing him. “I happen to have a very creative imagination.”

“I promise you I won’t. I’ve finished writing my version of it. I’ll let you see it after you tell me yours.”

“Huh, interesting.” You pretend like you’re rethinking your decision, just to get him a little bit hopeful and nervous by it. “Deal, why not.” Your coffee has grown slightly cold but the sugary taste of it serves as an addiction. “So, does that mean we’ll see each other again?”

“Well, I do have to go back to the library to return the book. So, hopefully, yes.” You both exchange stares, sharing sheepish smiles with you breaking away first, bringing your focus back to your coffee. “I’ve never seen you in the library before,” Jaehyun questions, “Is today your first time visiting?”

“No. I’ve been visiting it almost every day for the last… two weeks, I think? It’s near my workplace so I usually drop by after work to read for an hour or two. My apartment is pretty small so it feels a bit cramped. That’s why I enjoy spending more time outside.” You swirl your spoon, watching the little whirlpool you create inside your cup. “Besides, I can’t read at home.”

“Why’s that?”

“It’s…” You awkwardly laugh, waving one hand in the air. “I have a boyfriend who is younger than me and he’s a pretty lively person. It’s hard to focus on your book when someone keeps pulling you into conversations.”

Jaehyun’s fingers stop tapping against the surface of the coffee table but it’s too fast for you to notice before he starts again. “Isn’t it better to have someone like that rather than to be alone, though?” He counters, the smile on his lips never falter but the one in his eyes does.

“I…” It’s not apparent but you can sense it, the painful look on his face. It feels like you just said something that hurt him so badly that you want to apologize about it. “Yeah… I guess so…”

Maybe he notices you noticing, which is why he tries to mask his feelings better with a wider smile that does reach his eyes this time. “Why do you choose this library?” He diverts the topic. “There are a lot of new ones in town, bigger ones too. This place is pretty old and dusty.”

“Can’t argue with that.” You nod, sighing. “Okay, don’t laugh, but honestly? It just feels somewhat nostalgic to me. The first time I stepped inside, it felt like I’d been spending all my life there—just sitting on that old couch, reading books, enjoying the silence. It just feels familiar, even more comforting than being in my room. It’s weird but I can only feel at ease when I read there.” Jaehyun stays quiet that you have to lift your head to understand what goes through his head. His face is pensive, undecipherable. “What about you? What’s your reason, Jaehyun?”

He stops breathing at the sound of his name escaping your mouth, his shoulders tense, and only after what feels like hours, he finally has the strength to drag his eyes away from yours, bringing them down to see his interlaced fingers lying on the table. 

“It’s just closer to my place.”

***

“Hey, babe.” Donghyuck chirps with a lollipop stuck in his mouth, his fingers running through the keyboards, eyes locked to his computer screen. He can tell that it’s you who just slipped through the front door by the sound of your footsteps. “You’re late. Did you get the puddings I asked you?”

“They’re in the fridge.” You take off your coat and unwrap your scarf from your neck before you stroll toward the living room. You can’t remember what or who initiated it but it has been almost six months since he started living in your apartment. You remember how he used to spend just one night at your place on the weekend, then two when he felt a bit needy for your touch. Before you knew it, his personal belongings were scattered all over the place—his hoodie on the couch, his towel on the bed, his toothbrush on your sink—and he could be spending the entire week at your place, only moving once to his apartment when he ran out of comic books to read. It just came so naturally that you didn’t notice at first but by the time you did, it was too late to even bring the topic to the table.

Being with Donghyuck was easy, casual, and he gave you more reasons to laugh over little things more than anyone else. During the first two months, you acted like newlyweds with him peppering kisses on your face whenever you arrived home from work. Unlike you, Donghyuck is a freelancer and he does most of his work at home. He used to be considerate enough to do some chores for you—cooking, cleaning the bathroom, sometimes even doing your laundry when he felt he’d been neglecting you. Whenever you arrived late, he would’ve always had something prepared for you, beaming at you with a contagious grin while chiming, “Finally, you’re here! I’ve been waiting for you and I’m starving. Today’s dish is your favorite so let’s eat!”

But things are bound to change and happiness doesn’t last forever. It started slow, almost unnoticeable, with him forgetting to kiss you good night before bed and you treating the fact that he no longer paid attention to what you were wearing as normal. Nowadays, he doesn’t have enough affection to greet you with his smile—one that used to shine brighter than the sun. Comforting hugs and welcome kisses are long forgotten.

It’s lonely, but it’s fine. He’s still here. Donghyuck is still yours as much as you are his.

It’s fine.

“I met someone today,” you say, reaching out to stroke his dark hair. It’s so soft and fluffy like a dog’s fur and you find it calming just to card your fingers through them. The feelings are the same, only his reaction isn’t. He used to lean into your touch as a kitten would. Now, he doesn’t even spare you a glance. 

“A man?”

“Yep.”

“Is he hot?”

“Well, he’s not ugly.”

“Then don’t get too close to him.”

Donghyuck is the jealous type, he’s always been—sometimes even a bit possessive but it makes you happy to know there’s someone out there who cares about you so much he doesn’t want to share you with anyone else. But not today. Today, his words feel empty. You can tell that he doesn’t mean any of them. He just says them as a joke, maybe out of habit, but certainly not a warning.

“What will we be having for dinner?” You ask him when he’s busy shouting foul words to his screen as his character just got shot dead.

“Jesus—left, you moron!” He groans loudly in to the air before he turns around, finally recognizing your presence. “What? Oh.” He pops the lollipop out of his mouth. “I just had some take-outs.”

“You didn’t wait for me?”

“I was dead hungry, but I ordered some for you too. It’s probably cold now but you can heat it up.”

“Can you do that for me, please? I love it when you add more seasonings to it.”

“I’d love to do that but,” he smiles apologetically, his fingers meeting the keyboards once more. “I’m busy, babe. There’s an event going on and Jeno literally won’t let me take a break. Look, I’ll cook for you tomorrow, I promise.”

You have stopped believing in his promises, or at least, don’t allow yourself to believe. You’ve learned that the best way to avoid disappointment is to not expect anything.

You smile back, push his hair away so you can land a kiss on his temple. And no matter how much your bottled-up feelings are about to burst, you don’t say a word.

Because you know silence is what keeps your relationship alive.

***

That night, Jaehyun appeared in your dream.

He had a different hairstyle, a little bit shorter, color’s a shade darker. He was dressed in an old-fashioned way—a white buttoned-up shirt under a brown blazer that was a couple of sizes bigger than it was supposed to. Nevertheless, he looked just as strikingly handsome as he was in real life.

He took off his fedora hat, bowing when his eyes met yours as he entered the library—the one that you always visit. “You look beautiful today,” he said, smiling like he always has from the first time you saw him but it felt different in the dream. His smile was timid and shy, eyes never stayed long enough to be locked with yours, but they were honest. The way they shimmered in adoration at the sight of you, painted with both desire and affection.

Your body went autopilot, words flowing from your mouth before you could even process the situation. It was like you were residing in someone else’s body, just a bystander. “Are you saying I didn’t look beautiful yesterday?”

“No, that’s not—” At the sight of you covering your smile behind your hand, he sighed, pressing his hat to his chest. “Don’t tease me like that.”

“I’m sorry. Which book would you like to read today?”

“Will you choose one for me?”

“Unfortunately, I have a peculiar taste when it comes to books—”

“I trust you.” He smiled a tad wider, perfect teeth peeking behind soft red lips, and you could feel your lips curving to mirror his. 

“Well then,” you said, reaching toward a bookshelf. “Why don’t we start with this?”

It ended without you knowing what book it was nor the line between your dream and reality. They stand out so vividly—the scenery, his expressions, the lines you’d exchanged with him—that it takes you a few good minutes to realize that it was just a dream and not a memory.

You couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

***

The library is indeed old, with walls standing in dire need to be repainted. But the faint smell of sandalwood combined with the orange tint of sunlight sneaking through the windows is comforting. Crowds don’t gather much around here—maybe four or five people at most—and you’re consoled by the tranquility. There’s only a soft thrum of acoustic guitar playing through the speakers that keep you company.

And Jaehyun.

You meet him every day when the sun is an hour away from setting. You don’t chat for long, spending most of your hour reading your chosen book for the day while stealing glances at him scribbling stuff down on his notebook.

“Why don’t you use a laptop?”

“Not fond of it. I feel more like a writer this way,” Jaehyun responds, re-reading the words he just wrote on paper. When he notices you’re giggling, he frowns. “What?”

“You’re like my dad.”

“Then I’m sure your dad is a very smart, tech-savvy man.”

“I’m saying you have an old soul, the way you prefer to do stuff more traditionally.” You sink further into your chair, opening a new page, eyes scanning the lines but not reading them. “Well, I guess that makes the two of us since I already have the e-book version of this on my iPad and I’m still here reading it in a library. How’s your story going?”

“Pretty well. I just came up with a really annoying character.” His smile is a bit different this time, somewhat mischievous. “Inspired by someone.”

“You’re not talking about me, are you?”

Jaehyun drags his pen over his note. “Character A begins to question her—”

“Shut up!”

The more time you spend with him, the more you feel like he’s becoming a mystery you can’t solve. You’re closer to him, closer than any of your friends, but you know there are secrets he tries to bury underneath those tender smiles. To you, Jaehyun, with his eyes that always seem like they’re telling a different story—one that nearly drives him to the brink of tears, still seems like an incomplete puzzle. And if time allows you, you’d gladly collect every piece of him to be able to perceive him better.

***

Jaehyun visited you in another dream.

This time, you were walking next to him beside a beautiful pond in a backyard that seemed familiar enough to be your own. Both of you were dressed in traditional clothing and you wondered whether a ceremony just occurred.

“Are you nervous?” He asked, holding your hand.

“I don’t know, maybe,” you heard yourself mumble, body moving beyond your control. “I just feel like we’re moving too fast. We just turned twenty.”

“Are you having doubts?” He intertwined your fingers better and you noticed how his were shaking slightly. “About me?”

“Of course not.” You turned around, reaching up to caress his cheek, stroking his cheekbone with your thumb. “Jaehyun, this is the only thing I’ve ever wanted. I want to be with you, there’s no doubt about it. I’m just thinking about our future, that’s all. What will we do with our jobs? Our money? What will we do when we have kids—”

“It’s just like you to overthink about stuff,” he tittered, “We’ll cross the bridge when we get there.”

That earned him a pout. “I’m not overthinking about stuff. I’m planning them.”

“Of course, my bad.” He kissed your inner palm once before he let you frame his face again, his hand pressing against the back of your smaller one. “Thank you.”

You frowned. “For what?”

“For everything. For caring, for worrying.” Jaehyun smiled so gently, it was almost heartbreaking. “For being with me. Perhaps it’s immature for me to say this, but whatever future that lies ahead of us, I’m sure it’s filled with nothing but joy as long as we’re together.”

“That is such an embarrassing line to say.” You giggled and the blush that bloomed on his face was instant and striking but before he could say a word, you pulled him into your embrace, resting your cheek against his chest. “As long as we’re together, huh?” You repeated quietly. “Then will you promise you’ll stay with me forever?”

“I promise.” Jaehyun’s smile was pressing against your hairline. “Not even death can separate us.”

You wake up with a cold sweat, your heart thrumming so loudly, it makes you feel nauseous. Donghyuck shifts around in bed at the sound of you gasping for air, sleepily asking what’s wrong as he rubs his eyes.

“I’m fine,” you tremulously utter, a hand on your chest as if it could do something to steady your racing heart. “Go back to sleep.”

Donghyuck sends you another look with eyes barely opened. “Come here.” He tugs you closer to his chest, his nose grazing the crook of your neck. “It’s just a nightmare,” he murmurs drowsily against your skin, and in a matter of seconds, he drifts back to sleep.

“Yeah…” You swallow your breath, Jaehyun’s name resting on the tip of your tongue. “Just a nightmare…”

One that feels too real.

***

Weeks turn into months, and what started as curiosity becomes affection. 

Reading books has turned into nothing but an excuse for both of you to spend time together. What started as stealing secret glances at each other has morphed into an exchange of secret whispers in a secluded corner. The questions have become more personal too, and you find yourself talking about childhood memories and nonsensical ideas that show up in your thoughts, even the ones you have never shared with anyone else, not even to Donghyuck who lends his arm for you at night.

It’s only the dreams that you keep quiet about, as they always revolve around him since the first day you met Jaehyun. You’re not sure why, maybe it’s a way of your subconscious trying to tell you that you have feelings for him—feelings that aren’t meant to be shared with friends—as the dreams tend to play romantically. And you can’t deny that you do feel something about him.

It’s hard not to feel anything when Jaehyun has given you everything you’ve ever asked from a person. From a friend. From a lover.

But it’s not love. Definitely not love. At least not in the way you know of. In your mind, love is in the form of hugs you share with Donghyuck, not in the way Jaehyun lands his eyes on yours. Love is—

Your head swirls. What is love?

The concept of love is so complex that even if you know about it, you’re not sure if you understand it enough to experience it. You have never talked about love, not with your boyfriend, not with yourself. Is it something that you’ve already felt once? Are you in love with Donghyuck—the man you’ve spent the last two years together?

What does he think of me? You start to lose focus, sinking into your thoughts and the soft music playing in the background feels like a lullaby. Does Hyuck love me?

Before long, you feel your eyelids grow heavy. You fall asleep with your arms folded on the table, cheek pressing against them.

You’re dreaming. You’re dreaming of a hand, so warm and tender as it brushes stray hairs from your temple. You’re dreaming of a voice, so familiar to your ears, so quiet and heartbroken as it resonates in whispers. You’re dreaming of a pair of lips, so soft and light as they press against your strands.

“It’s okay if you don’t remember me. It’s okay, so please…” Slender fingers curl around your wrist, bringing it to frame a face with skin as soft as porcelain. “Just come back to me…”

You wake up. 

Jaehyun is sitting on the other side of the table, pen tapping against his lips as he reads back his work, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. He notices the little shift in your movement, immediately beaming at you with his signature smile. “Hey there, Sleepyhead.”

You rub your eyes before sitting straight on your seat, your hair’s astray. “What—How did I—” A coat is slipping through your shoulders and you catch it before it meets the ground. It’s Jaehyun’s. “Umm—t-thanks,” you mumble, handing it back to him.

“Sure,” he responds. “You were shivering so…”

“Oh… Right.” You certainly don’t feel cold now especially when your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. “W-what time is it?”

“Around eight. The place’s about to close.” Jaehyun takes a sip of his drink, grinning at your behavior. “You were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

“Yeah, well, you should’ve. My boyfriend's gonna interrogate me for this.” You sigh, trying to gather back every bit of your strength and dignity. “Why are you still here?”

He raises an eyebrow at that, acting offended. “You don’t actually think that I’m the type of guy who leaves pretty girls sleeping defenselessly in public, do you?”

The word ‘pretty’ comes so effortlessly from his mouth that you’re sure he doesn’t mean it to mean something more. “There’s literally no one else around here but the staff besides us.”

“Which should be the more reason why I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

You scoff, shaking your head in amusement. “Yes, yes, how chivalrous of you. Thank you, oh my mighty prince. How can I return the favor?”

“By coming here again tomorrow?”

The way his eyes shine with excitement at the thought of seeing you again makes your heart flutter. “I don’t think you need to ask,” you grin.

***

Jaehyun knows you. He knows you too well. But it’s not the things that can be seen, it’s the things that you can only know by spending time together. Jaehyun knows the type of music you listen to, knows that whenever it gets too cold, you’ll start craving a cup of hot chocolate. 

It’s strange, the fact that Jaehyun, a stranger you just befriended, pays attention with all his heart, even at the words that accidentally slipped off your tongue as if you’re the only person who matters in the world, while Donghyuck, your boyfriend, barely bats an eyelash when you share an important aspect of your life. It feels strange at first, but now, it sickens you.

“What’s this?” You ask, examining a CD case he just hands over. “Are you giving me a mix-tape?” It doesn’t have a cover, just a note painted with the words: When we die, we will turn into songs, and we will hear each other and remember each other. You have your eyebrow raised. “A quote by Rob Sheffield?”

“It’s a hint for my story. As promised.” He takes a seat in front of you. “Have you worked on it?”

“When you’re only giving me this quote as a hint and nothing more, it’s kinda hard to come up with something tragic for the ending.”

“I thought you had a very creative imagination.”

You throw a playful glare and he titters a little bit in response. “Is there any other reason why you’re giving me this?”

“Just something to keep you company.” He smiles. He always smiles, but more with his eyes than his lips. Then he slides down another thing—a book this time—wrapped with a red ribbon. “As you read this.”

It’s an old book written by your favorite author, one that you haven’t been able to read because it’s so rare to find. “How do you—” You’re lost for words. You have never told him about this. You’ve mentioned your favorite books but none from this author as it is something personal that you prefer to keep to yourself, not wanting others to judge you for your distinctive taste.

“It’s written by my favorite author,” he elaborates, “I just thought you’d like it too since we have similar taste.”

There’s something he’s not telling you, you can sense that. But if he’s not ready to provide the words, you won’t take them away by force.

“Thank you.” You hug the book to your chest. Somehow, the air feels like spring, like cherry blossoms blooming for the first time after being frozen for so long. “I’ll cherish this.”

“It’s just a book, don’t be dramatic,” he chuckles but happiness is written all over his face, mirroring yours. Jaehyun’s eyes soften and he appears so fragile, like a porcelain doll. So beautiful and vulnerable.

The songs he has compiled for you seem like they’re taken straight out of your playlist. Even for the songs you’ve never listened to before, they click right in. You’re so caught by the moment, drowned deep in the lyrics and the music that resonates from your speakers, that you don’t hear the sounds of your boyfriend stepping into the room.

“I thought I heard noises. What are you listening to?” Donghyuck asks, leaning over your shoulder to peek at the empty CD case you’ve been holding on your lap.

“A friend gave me,” you answer. You notice the way his eyes dart to the handwritten note and it makes you nervous as if you’re doing something wrong behind his back, something forbidden.

“What a thoughtful friend,” he comments nonchalantly, albeit a little bit cold. You mask your anxiety with a chuckle. “Maybe you can tell your friend that there’s this thing called Spotify nowadays. Literally no one listens to CDs anymore.”

Your tongue lays heavy in your mouth, and maybe it’s better to leave things the way it is but you can’t stop yourself from bitterly saying, “I happen to like listening to CDs. It makes me feel nostalgic.”

“You and your nostalgia.” Donghyuck snorts, completely missed the annoyed tone in your voice. He places a peck on the top of your head. “Well, I’m hungry. What do you want to have for dinner? I’ll cook."

“There’s a new Chinese restaurant opening just a block away,” Jaehyun said on a Sunday evening when you two were about to part ways. “They got amazing reviews. Do you have some time to spare? I know how much you love Chinese food.”

“I never told you I loved Chinese food.”

“Everybody loves Chinese food, it’s not that hard to guess.”

“Fine. But if you can guess what I’m about to order, I’ll start filing a restraining order against you, assuming you’re a stalker.”

“Well, I gotta be careful not to get caught then.”

“Baby?” Donghyuck snaps you out of your reverie. “I’m asking what you wanna have for dinner.”

“Umm…” You push a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, somewhat jittery. “Chinese food?”

He frowns upon your words. “I didn’t know you liked Chinese food.”

“I-it’s just something I haven’t eaten in a while.”

“Well, I’m going to cook you something better.” He grins, boyish and ignorant. “How about your favorite Spaghetti Aglio e Olio by Chef Lee Donghyuck?”

You smile, weak but hopefully not empty. “That would be nice.”

***

“You’re okay?” Jaehyun asks the second you take a seat in front of him. He seems so concerned that it surprises you. You haven’t realized you look that troubled.

“I’m fine,” you assure him with a smile. “Just… You know, boyfriend stuff.”

You can tell how Jaehyun is holding back his words from how tightly he keeps his lips pressed together. He’s always considerate like that, always detecting every little thing that you try to hide but never pressures you to speak, especially when it comes to your relationship. Jaehyun respects you, respects the fact that you are already involved with someone that he never tries to get you to look in his direction. Though his eyes often betray him, Jaehyun tries his best to maintain his distance. He never flirts, never praises you with romantic words, never steps out of line.

And you’re thankful for that because deep down you know, once he does, it will be hard to untangle yourself from his grasp.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Then...” Jaehyun closes his book, leaning closer. His dimples are so prominent when he grins, eyes turning into a beautiful pair of crescents. “How about we go try out some dumplings?”

It’s so sudden and random but once the idea sinks in, there’s only one thing you want to say. “Take me away, Jaehyun.”

It’s not about the food. It’s not about ignoring your problems, or the loneliness that’s drowning you a little bit more every day. It’s about enjoying the little things with someone who understands you, someone who doesn’t need to hold your hand to keep you warm. 

Someone who can finally let you breathe.

***

“I can’t believe it’s closed early,” you whine after you read the sign that’s strapped to the library’s front door. “And I was so excited to read the next chapter too.”

“What’s the book?” Jaehyun asks, adjusting the strap of his bag that hangs low on his shoulder.

“No Longer Human.”

“By Osamu Dazai?”

“Yep.”

“I’ve got a copy of that.”

“What, really?” The spark of glee that glimmer in your eyes catches him by surprise but he hides it behind a soft smile. “Can I borrow it? It’s such an old book, I can’t even find the e-book version of it.”

“Sure. Would you like to come over to my place?” The line makes your breath hitched in your throat and Jaehyun recognizes the faint blush that spreads on your cheeks. Mirroring your reaction, he hastily clears his throat, rubbing his nape as his face turns scarlet. “Or, uhh, I can just hand it over to you tomorrow.”

“No, it’s—” As you tuck your hair behind your ear, you notice your fingers are shaking. “I have—I’ve got time to spare. You have coffee at your place, right?”

His shoulders begin to relax and with a soft gaze, he reciprocates with an even tender smile. “If you’re alright with instant coffees.”

“Then lead the way.”

Jaehyun has this mature persona around him, like a caring big brother that calms you down but the second you arrive in his hallway, he fumbles with his words, his key slipping out of his fingers during his first try, and his nervousness starts to rub off on you.

It makes you wonder whether he’s feeling like he’s crossing the line, just as much as you are with Donghyuck’s name sitting on the front of your mind.

“Come in,” he invites, opening the door but keeping his eyes anywhere else but yours. “I hope you don’t mind the mess.”

His apartment smells just like him and it makes it hard for you to focus on anything else. But the second you’re able to sort that thought away, you realize something. He keeps his place minimalist and neat, just like the way he dresses and writes. Everything is organized properly with two paintings decorating his walls—ones that remind you of your grandmother’s house. “You really do have an old soul,” you playfully comment and he scrunches his nose at you in return.

It feels more familiar to step into Jaehyun’s apartment than your own because he has everything that you wanted and more. All the books sitting on his shelf, his collection of CDs, even the potpourri he has on his coffee table has the same scent with the one you’re planning to buy. 

“I know you said we have similar taste, but this…” You scan his bookshelf in awe, noticing how it almost covers his entire wall from how huge it is. He owns hundreds of books and everything is arranged alphabetically. “This is just taking it to another level. Are you sure you’re not my stalker?”

He simpers. “If I was, I wouldn’t have invited you here. Too much evidence.”

“Or maybe you’re just planning to keep me here with you forever.” When he doesn’t reply, you realize how wrong that line just sounded. “I’m sorry, was that a weird thing to say?”

“I didn’t hear anything.” Jaehyun waves you off, walking to the kitchen. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

The tension gradually starts to ease by the time you have a book in your lap, your eyes running from one passage to another. Sitting next to you, Jaehyun has his pen glued to his notepad again, his brown hair nearly looks golden as the sunset illuminates his face with such a warm, beautiful glow.

He really does look like a painting, you admire as you steal glances at him from behind your book. The perfect shape of his nose, his smooth skin, the way he’s so focused on his story, drowned inside his imagination… Maybe you’re being carried away, taken by his beauty, that your mouth begins to produce the words without thinking.

“Why do you look so sad?” 

Jaehyun’s pen nearly slips from his fingertips. “What?”

“Sometimes you just look... so lonely and hurt,” you clarify although you’re growing more conscious of the way you’re crossing the line. “It feels like you’re forcing yourself to smile when you look at me...”

Jaehyun loses the ability to speak, even just blinking his eyes already seems like a stretch. But he sees something, the genuine curiosity and concern written in your eyes, that makes him avert his gaze away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he remarks, forcing himself to chuckle and you know that’s he’s showing you that smile again, even when you can barely make out his features.

You don’t know what’s gotten into you. Maybe you’re just tired of him keeping secrets to himself when you’re sure they concern you. Maybe you’re just sick of seeing him like he’s on the verge of breaking apart without knowing the cause. Or perhaps it’s just your selfish way of saying, “I want you to smile, truly smile, because of me and no one else.”

But you find yourself reaching out a hand, your fingertips meeting the warm skin of his cheek, wanting him to turn his face around so you can see his expression. Jaehyun jolts, your name tumbles down his lips abruptly, his hand clamping against your wrist. “What are you doing?” His eyes are shaking as they bore deep into yours but yours are steady. Your eyes, your voice, your fingertips. They’ve never been this steady.

This is the first time you’ve been this close to him, to know how long his eyelashes really are, the way they flutter against his cheeks, the curve of his mouth, and the beauty mark on his pale skin. He’s possibly the most beautiful man you’ve ever witnessed in person.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to suddenly touch you like that.” You try to retract your hand, but he keeps his fingers around your wrist, hand hanging mid-air as he swallows his breath. Seeing him nervous makes you nervous. “Jaehyun, I won’t force you to say anything you don’t want to say, but…” You haven’t realized that you’ve been speaking in whispers, but Jaehyun has and his eyes soften just as much as yours do. “Please don’t pretend, not when you’re with me.”

Whether it’s from your words or the tenderness in your voice, you’re not sure, but Jaehyun releases your hand only so he can cup your cheek. He murmurs your name, so soft as if he’s telling a secret that he’s been dying to say. He leans forward, his breath is now fanning your cheek, and he’s so close, so close, and your eyes begin to shut when his lips faintly graze against yours—

The ringing sound of your phone blares through the room. 

Your entire movement stops but your heart runs a thousand miles per hour. It takes a good few seconds to come back to reality, and when you do, you’re not graceful at it. “Umm—” You glance away, breaking free from his touch. Your fingers are trembling hard when they retrieve your phone from the table. It has stopped ringing and a notification appears on your screen. The sight of your boyfriend’s name makes you feel like the floor is crumbling underneath you. “Sorry, it’s Donghyuck—I have to—It’s getting late, he must be looking for me.” Too embarrassed to see his face, you quickly gather your belongings into your arms, not even spending a few seconds to wear your coat back. “Thank you for inviting me. I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow?” And you don’t wait for an answer, only forcing yourself to laugh which comes out as strained and pitchy, before you head toward the front door.

“Wait.” Jaehyun has his right hand pressing against the back of the door, shutting it close before you have the chance to let yourself out. You’re trapped between the door and his chest, making it harder for you to breathe. “Can you look at me?” He firmly orders but promptly adds a soft, “Please,” when you’re not brave enough to respond to him. 

You turn around, hugging your purse and your coat to your chest, facing him but not meeting his eyes. You can feel him analyzing your expression, feel how heavy his gaze is on your face. He bends down slightly, hand reaching out to frame your face like before but you flinch, eyes shutting tightly before he can make any contact.

You can’t see the look on his face as you are too frightened to do so, but you can tell how much you hurt him by the sound of his voice. “You forgot your book,” he states, handing a copy of Osamu Dazai’s No Longer Human.

“O-oh, right.” You sound so nervous, so afraid, and you don’t know why. “It’s okay. I won’t be able to read at home anyway—”

“I want you to have it.” It’s the first time he loses the warmth in his voice when he speaks and if you’re not too clouded by your thoughts, if you weren’t so selfish, you would’ve tried your best to fix the situation. But not right now. Right now, you just want to disappear. You want to run back home, run into Donghyuck’s arms like how you’re supposed to be. 

Because this is wrong. This isn’t supposed to happen. Not when you have another man waiting for your return.

You take the book from his hand, noticing how your fingers brush his and how they stay that way for a little too long, but Jaehyun doesn’t say anything. “I’m sorry,” you mumble out, tears begin to prickle at the corner of your eyes and you’re still not sure why you’re on the verge of crying.

“Don’t be. It was my fault.” He notices your emotions, he always does, and it breaks you apart to know how much you’re breaking him right now. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Nothing happened,” you convince him, shaking your head and will your tears to go away before they fall down your cheeks. “We didn’t do anything.”

Jaehyun’s fingers curls, nails sinking into his palms as he tries his best to mask what he’s feeling. “You’re right,” he quietly repeats, “Nothing happened.”

***

“Where have you been?”

Your keys slip through your fingers at the sound of Donghyuck’s voice and you’re petrified, millions of thoughts running through your head as you try to come up with an excuse.

But why? Why do you have to come up with an excuse? “Nothing happened. We didn’t do anything.” Isn’t that what you said?

“Babe?”

You jump back a couple of steps when Donghyuck walks into your personal space with a frown breaking on his temple. He furrows his eyebrows deeper at your reaction. “You okay? You look kinda pale.”

“Yeah, umm—” You adjust the collar of your turtleneck shirt, suddenly feeling like you’re being choked. “It’s fine—I’m fine. I just had a long day at work.”

“Why didn’t you text me? I could’ve swung by to pick you up.”

You force yourself to smile at his offer. “Thank you. It’s okay, really. Were you waiting for me?”

“Well yeah, I wanted to eat dinner together. It’s been a while since we did that and I wanted to make it up to you.” He cutely pouts and you’re reminded of the reason why you’re so trapped under his spell. “Text me next time when you’re about to come home late so I don’t have to wait for you.”

There it is. It strikes again. The feeling of loneliness. Curling your fingers at the hem of your shirt, you weakly reply with, “I’m sorry.”

Because out of the millions of thoughts that run through your head, that’s the only thing you have the bravery to say out loud.

***

“Hyuck?” You call out, carding your fingers through his soft locks. Donghyuck has his head on your lap with his legs sprawled out, taking most of the couch. His eyes are glued to the screen of his Nintendo Switch, thumb moving frantically to land a new high score. “I think we need to talk.”

Donghyuck doesn't respond right away. After a few relentless movements of his thumbs, he shouts, “Fuck, not again! Goddamn, I gotta restart all over again.” You can see him renewing the game, picking a different character. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I just…” You’re nervous, feeling more so than the pain that swells in your chest from not being taken seriously. “It feels like we haven’t been spending time with each other. Properly, I mean.”

“We’re spending time together now, aren’t we?” He hisses when his character takes another damage from his opponent. “What, do you want to watch a movie or something?”

I want us to talk. I want us to laugh. I want us to listen to each other like we used to. “I’m not in the mood for movies right now.”

After taking another shot, Donghyuck groans. “Fuck this stupid game,” he grumbles, throwing his device to the coffee table. “You know what’s annoying? The fact that I could land a perfect high score when I was drunk as fuck but now, I can’t even get into top three!”

Your patience is growing thin, but even then, you can’t find the strength to confront him properly. “Hyuck…”

“Right, sorry.” He heaves a sigh, rubbing his head as he sits straight up, facing you properly. “What is it? Is there something wrong?”

You meet his gaze and you realize how rarely you stand in this position, with him looking directly at your face with concern in his eyes. Now that he’s paying you full attention, your vocabulary turns into a blank slate. Your lips are parted but your voice is nowhere to be found, as it is hidden by the fear of speaking beyond control once you let your emotions run loose. 

“I…” You begin, clearing your throat to sound less anxious. “Are you happy with me?”

He knits his eyebrows together. “Of course, I’m happy. What are you talking about? Have I done something to upset you?”

“No, it’s…” Your hands lay rigid on your lap, fingers tightening around each other. You weakly smile. “Nothing. I guess I just had some weird thoughts popping in my head.”

“Look, I promise you I’ll do the laundry this weekend,” he confidently convinces you, as if that was the problem you’re currently facing. He pokes you on the nose, grinning boyishly. “Stop acting so weird, you’re creeping me out. What else are you thinking about? If it’s sex you want, you just gotta ask. You know I’m down with it anytime you want.”

“Yeah, of course…” You can force yourself to laugh but every sound you make feels like a knife piercing against your heart. “Sorry, I was just being stupid. You can ignore me.”

“I won’t ignore you, how can I do that? Not when you’re this cute.” He giggles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. But his affection does not make the butterflies in your stomach come alive. It makes hot tears threatening to appear in your eyes. “I like your sweater,” Donghyuck coos, “Is it new?”

No, this is my third time wearing it in front of you. “Yes. I’m glad you noticed.”

“I always notice everything about you.” He ruffles your hair as he stands up, stretching out his arms above his head. “Is there anything else you’d like to talk about? ‘Cause I’m dead tired.”

“No. Thank you for listening.”

“Anytime, babe.” He bends his head down to kiss you fully on the mouth, tongue running along your lower lip just to tease like usual. When he pulls away, he has his juvenile grin intact. “Well, I’m going to bed. If I wake up late tomorrow, you can re-heat the food. I’ve stored everything in the fridge.”

Donghyuck disappears behind the door before you can finish saying good night.

***

The sun’s about to set… He must have been there already.

It has been two days since you last saw Jaehyun. You know you’re not being fair avoiding him like this, but you don’t know what else to do. You’re not brave enough to face him after that. Have you been giving him signs? Was it your fault, was it the expression you made, was it the words you spoke, that made him lean towards you, asking for a kiss that you were more than eager to give?

“Hey, babe,” Lee Donghyuck chirps against your ear, arms finding their way to circle your waist, pulling you to his lap. “What are you doing?”

You’re successful at hiding your surprise but knowing it’s Donghyuck, anything will probably pass by without him realizing. Even when you have spent the last fifteen minutes reading the same paragraph in your book over and over again as your thoughts drift somewhere else. 

You have a boyfriend and it’s not Jaehyun. Donghyuck is everything to you now, isn’t he? Yet, if you hadn’t been interrupted by that phone call, you were sure you would’ve yielded to Jaehyun’s touch.

“Nothing happened. We didn’t do anything.”

You’re disgusted with yourself.

You throw a glance to the side, your nose nearly brushing his as Donghyuck settles his chin on your shoulder. Unlike Jaehyun who has a fresh, masculine scent, Donghyuck smells like summer and lilacs under the sun. It’s comforting and sweet, yet even after two years, it stills feels somewhat unfamiliar to you.

“Reading a book.” You shiver when he pushes your hair away, placing a lazy wet kiss on your nape, lips parted and tongue pressing against the skin. “Hyuck…”

“It’s okay, keep reading.” Whenever his mouth makes contact with your skin, he adds a hum or a moan to make sure you know that despite his words, he’s not giving you the chance to continue. “You want us to spend more time together, don’t you?”

You deeply exhale, staring lifelessly at the ceiling, sensitive skin being caressed but none of his touches pumps desire through your veins. Since when did I stop wanting him this way? You wonder, feeling guilty when Jaehyun’s face appears in the corner of your mind once more.

“Baby,” Donghyuck murmurs seductively against the skin, thin fingers slipping underneath the hem of your shirt, trailing over your navel. “Hasn’t it been a while since we last did it?”

“It’s only been a week.”

“And that’s a week too long. I want you.” He strokes your cheek, guiding you to meet his eyes. “Can I touch you?”

It’s a rhetorical question since you both know you can’t say no when he demands something from you. “Of course.”

Donghyuck’s lips still taste the same, feel the same as they suck bruises on your delicate skin but the sparks are no longer there. He used to make you squirm with excitement, body begging under temptation. Sex used to be an adventure, a way for him to make you lose your mind, to have you gasping his name between moans, nails clawing against his back, thighs trembling under his fingertips.

Right now, sex is just… another glue to keep your relationship in place.

Clothes are discarded on the floor, and Donghyuck is sitting with you on his lap, his spine pressed against the couch, nails digging into your hips as he brings you down to take him inch-by-inch. He hisses when he feels you engulfing him with your warmth, head thrown back with lips parted in a blissful moan.

“No matter how much we’ve done it,” he chuckles, eyes glazed with lust. “I can never get enough of the way you’re taking me so well, baby.” Donghyuck is a very passionate lover and his lips love to praise, both by words and kisses. The way he calls your name, the way he whispers, “You feel so good around me,” often makes you wonder whether there would be any other man who will desire you this much. But is it love? Does he love you? 

Do you love him? 

You’re not sure. You don’t know yet. But you know he plays a huge part in your life. Donghyuck once added a spectrum of colors into your previously dull, monochromatic life. You care about him, think about him more than you should, even putting his needs and priorities above yours.

If that’s not love, then what is it?

“Donghyuck…” You flinch when he rocks his hips up, a bit too rough and forceful as he’s getting impatient with the pace you’re going. “I—I think I love you.”

It surprises you that these words can leave your lips but you don’t regret it. It’s the right thing to do, saying these words to him. It’s only natural after the amount of time you’ve spent with him. It’s a way to bridge the gap between you and him, to reignite the flame, to bring laughter back into your life. 

To fix the mistake you just made two days ago.

But maybe his thoughts are too clouded with lust, maybe your words are too quiet for him to hear, or maybe you haven’t said the words at all and everything is just playing inside your imagination but no matter what the reason is, Donghyuck doesn’t answer. The words that escape his lips are obscene, a sign that he’s about to finish and you let him pull you closer to his chest, let him sink his face in the crook of your neck, let him groan and release everything inside because that’s what you’re supposed to do.

“Did you get to come?” He asks, breathless and flushed when he’s finished. His bangs are glued to his temple, sun-kissed skin glistening with sweat and when he strokes your cheekbone with his fingers, they tremble from the pleasure that washed through his body.

“Yes.” You didn’t. You haven’t in a while. It’s not because you didn’t enjoy it. Donghyuck still moved in the way you wanted him to—in the way that used to untie the knots in your stomach, almost making you cry from how good it was. But you’ve begun to realize that there was a part of you missing and Donghyuck isn’t the right piece to complete the puzzle. 

Jaehyun.

The dread of having another man’s name running through your head is so much, it almost makes you vomit your insides. 

“Hyuck.”

“Yes, baby?”

“I said I love you.”

There’s no going around it this time. You’ve said the words, you’ve pronounced them loud and clear but when Donghyuck still doesn’t say anything, you wish the earth could swallow you whole. “Can you… say something, please…?”

“Baby,” he sighs, fingers framing your face so gently, it hurts you. “Please don’t take this the wrong way. It’s not that I don’t love you but—”

You’re stunned, shocked to your core at the incoming rejection but… that’s it.

You don’t feel anything. How can you not feel anything? You don’t feel hurt, you’re not disappointed, you’re just…

Relieved.

“Baby, are you listening?” Donghyuck calls again, grabbing you by your chin so he can peer into your eyes. “I like you. I really do like you. I like you so much but love is such a big word and for me to be committed that way is just… I don’t know, I haven’t figured out my feelings yet. I don’t even understand what love is. I just—I need more time.”

You’re lost for words. How can you tell him? How can you say that you’re so relieved he doesn’t love you back? How can you tell him that his action does not break you apart, but only makes you realize that you’ve just been forcing yourself to stay with him because it feels like it’s the right thing to do?

What if you’re just staying with him because you’re so afraid of being alone, not knowing that loneliness is the only thing he can offer you in return?

“I understand,” you quietly reply, climbing off his lap. Your knees wobble slightly under your weight as your mind travels somewhere else. You gather your clothes into your arms, placing them back on your body.

Donghyuck frowns at your reaction, calling your name as he stands up and pulls his jeans back to place. “Look, I don’t want to hurt you by saying it when I still don’t truly mean it the way you do.”

You can’t look at him, can’t meet his eyes when you can’t even understand how you feel. “I get it, Hyuck, it’s fine.”

But maybe Donghyuck is taking it the wrong way because his voice is laced with both exhaustion and desperation to make this feel any less terrible. “Babe, can we just talk—”

“I said, I’m fine!” You turn around to face him, head dizzy and heart palpitating. It scares you. It scares you that after all this time thinking Donghyuck was the one for you—all the things you’ve done, all the memories you’ve shared—you still don’t understand your feelings for him. You loved him once, you’re sure you loved him once. But is it love if the feeling isn’t eternal? Can you call it love when it fleets by so fast, disappearing without a trace as if it’s never existed in the first place?

To think that these two years you have spent with him would amount to nothing...

You take a deep breath, wishing your body and voice to stop shaking. When you look him in the eyes, there’s nothing but certainty written in your eyes. “You’re right, we need to talk.”

Donghyuck walks to your spot, hand resting against your waist, another one framing your cheek. “Please don’t be mad,” he whispers, and for the first time in the last few months, he does look sorry. “I’m happy to hear you say those words, I really do, but—”

“I want to break up.”

He freezes, jaw dropping low. “What?” 

“I want to break up with you, Donghyuck.”

“What—why—” His eyebrows are sewn together, and you take his hand away from your face, breaking free from his hold. “You’re breaking up with me because I can’t say I love you too?”

“No.” You exhale. “I’m breaking up with you because I feel fine with you not saying it back.”

He stands in silence, then his forced chuckles fill the air. “Babe, what are you talking about—”

“Are you happy with me?” The tremble in your voice has receded. “Be honest. Are you truly happy with me? Or are you just going along with everything because you’re so comfortable—so used to the situation of being with me—that you start to think as long as I’m not hurt, it’s fine. As long as I’m not alone, I can keep going with this relationship, even when I’m with someone who doesn’t truly understand me. Or accept the real me.”

Donghyuck releases the breath he doesn’t know he’s been holding. His voice is a pitch lower when he speaks, bitter and hurt. “Is that how you feel? All this time when we’re together?”

“No.” Your heart still breaks at the sight of his face. “I think I really did love you once, Hyuck. And if you had rejected me a few months earlier, I would’ve probably broken down crying. But now…” You grow stiff, noticing the infuriated look that’s plastered on his face. “I’m sorry.”

Donghyuck stays mute and the silence only adds more tension to the atmosphere. His teeth are grinding against each other when he replies. “Why did you even say you loved me if you weren’t fucking sure about how you felt?”

You twist your finger in the hemline of your shirt, in dire need of something to keep your emotions collected. “I thought it would make us grow closer again. To fix what’s lost between us,” you weakly admit, heart throbbing and breaking at the sight of him. “But then I realized that we shouldn’t say we love someone just because we have to. We should say it because we want to. Because we truly feel that way. But I didn’t feel anything when you didn’t say it back. I only felt… relieved.” 

The enraged look on his face forces you to drag your eyes to your feet and you stay still, breathing as quietly as possible. It’s only when Donghyuck starts to reach for his jacket, muttering, “I’m not having any of these bullshits,” as he walks passes you that you dare to look in his direction.

“How easy for you to put this all on me,” he declares with his fingers lingering on the doorknob, so spitefully it shocks you. “You probably think I’m dumb and insensitive, but I know. I’ve noticed the way you changed ever since you met him.”

“What?” His words feel like a slap to the face. “I don’t—”

“You know,” he cynically laughs into the air, throwing his head back. “Just because you found someone who makes you happy ‘cause he can quote your favorite lines, read your favorite books or listen to the same shit you like, doesn’t mean you can throw me away like I’m some fucking garbage.”

You’re petrified by his words. Somewhere in your head, you keep saying that the reason why you’re breaking up with him is that you’re so different from each other—that there would be little to no chance for the two of you to understand one another even if you’re given all the time in the world. But you can’t deny that there’s a part of you that completely rejects Donghyuck simply because you’ve stopped wanting him as much as you want Jaehyun. 

It sickens you.

“I’m…” It’s suffocating. The tension in the air, his eyes, the way your heartbeat is ramming against your ribcages. “I’m sorry...”

Your apology only aggravates him more and with gritted teeth, Donghyuck slams the door behind him, leaving you alone in the silence of your room.

Your apartment has never felt this big before.

***

It’s funny how you just ended your two years relationship with your boyfriend but Donghyuck isn’t the one you’ve been avoiding for months. It’s Jaehyun.

Something is gnawing at you from the inside, the feeling of guilt as if you just sinned. You didn’t cheat on your boyfriend. Physically, you didn’t. You’re attracted to Jaehyun, everybody would be to someone who owns such a handsome face and delicate features. But it’s more than just physical attraction because when you lay at night in your bed, alone and empty, it’s not his face that comes to mind. It’s the little thing he does, the way he listens to your words so attentively, the way he smiles—happy and sad at the same time, the way he greets you, the way he nibbles at his lower lip as he tries to think of a word to write on his note. 

And the dreams.

The dreams never stop, they only grow stronger. You can remember each and every one of them crystal clear when you wake up. They’re usually different every night but for the last few days, the atmosphere and the surroundings were the same. 

In the dream, you were lying down in a hospital bed, wearing nothing but your white gown, too weak to even lift a finger. Jaehyun was sitting on a wooden chair with a book in his hand—the one that he presented you as a gift in real life—while his other hand was holding yours, thumb tenderly gliding against your knuckles. He seemed much thinner, cheekbones growing prominent with dark eye-bags tainting his pale skin. But his smile was the same, just as warm, just as tender.

He was reading you a story, one that you had memorized by heart from how many times you’ve read it. But it’s different when he read the words out loud, voice melodious and soothing, like a mother’s lullaby. When it was over, he beamed at you, asking, “What’s your favorite part of the story?” And you opened your mouth but no words could come out. You were losing your voice, could only make croaking sounds and even that already put a strain on your body. You could see how much it broke him to hear you struggle but he waited patiently, hand squeezing yours tighter. 

“Me too,” he responded after he heard your answer, kissing your knuckles. “I like that one too.”

In another dream, you saw him sitting at the edge of your bed, his mouth still formed that beautiful, delicate smile, but his eyes were as heavy as the storm. You asked him, why, what’s wrong, trying your best to let your voice break free from your mouth. He brushed his fingers against your cheek, pushing your hair out of your eyes. “I won’t let anything separates us,” he said and it felt more like a promise than how it sounded. “Not time, not death, nothing. I will always be with you.” He let his lips linger on your temple as he whispered the next words. “So it’s okay if you want to sleep. I won’t be going anywhere.”

Then… I’ll see you again when I wake up.

“Yes.” He leaned closer, letting his lips meet your chapped ones in a chaste kiss. “I’ll see you again when you wake up.”

But by the time you opened your eyes, heart thrumming loudly inside your chest, with the sound of the alarm in your phone muffled by your pillow, you knew that in the dream, once you go to sleep, you’d never be able to wake up.

I have to see him.

***

Three months have passed since you last saw him. It’s funny that despite how close you are to each other, know each other like the back of your hand, you just only realize now that you haven’t given him a way to contact you. No home address. No phone numbers. No social media. You’re not even sure what his last name was. You never needed to know his contact details before. Every day, an hour before the sun is replaced by the moon, you will meet each other here in this library—that was the unspoken promise between you and neither of you ever broke it. Not until now. The second you stop coming to the library, you disappear from his life as well, as easy as snapping your fingers.

The quickest way to see him is by visiting the library. Today you will see him. You just have to.

It’s raining hard, hard enough to drench you to your socks, painting shivers to each of your fingertips. It’s a Sunday evening, the sun is an hour away from setting behind the horizon. But with how heavy the rain is going, the day will turn into the night before the sun can shine its light through the clouds again.

Hesitation arises within you as you take shelter on the porch, your shivering fingers circling the doorknob to the library. He might not even be here in this kind of weather, you miserably think to yourself. It wasn’t raining when you took your leave half an hour earlier but you should’ve noticed how thick and dark the clouds were. Your thoughts were too jumbled that you didn’t even think about carrying an umbrella with you.

But you’re already here and if he still keeps his promise…

You take a step inside.

Your clothes are drenched but thankfully they’re not dripping water to the carpeted floor. It’s warmer inside, so warm that you feel like you’re home, sitting close to a fireplace, basking in the scent of sandalwood. Your eyes naturally scan the room, taking a longer glance at the table where you usually sit in front of him, a book in your hands, a smile strapped to your face. Jaehyun’s nowhere to be seen.

He’s not here. Is it because of the rain? Or… Maybe he has stopped coming here to see me. 

You can only realize how important someone is to you when they’re gone and it hurts so much that you have to nip at your lower lip, fingers curling around the end of your sweater. 

I want to see him again…

“You’re here…”

You turn your head to the source of his voice, heart about to burst when you see Jaehyun stopping on his tracks, one hand holding the entrance door open, another one carrying a folded umbrella that drips water to the floor. He’s so stunned at the sight of you, he doesn’t even appear to be breathing. In a whisper, your name breaks free from his lips.

And you run towards him with all your might.

He nearly stumbles from how hard you’re crushing your body against his, his umbrella falling from his grip but he doesn’t push you away. Jaehyun is warm, warmer than everything you’ve ever held and you wonder whether you’re just freezing from the cold or he’s always been this comforting. It feels so natural to stay in his embrace, to be wrapped with his strong arms, to have him whisper your name against the shell of your ear. 

I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so much.

Jaehyun...

The first tear that slips down your cheek is an accident, as you don’t want him to see you cry. You don’t even know why you’re crying but you can’t stop. You sob against his chest, fingers curling against the fabric of his knitted sweater, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from crying harder but failing every time. 

Jaehyun never breaks away from your embrace. He does not care if people stare, does not listen to the murmurs being exchanged at the back of the room. He pulls you closer, one hand holding you around the waist and the other one stroking your damp hair. “I thought I’d never see you again,” he says, overwhelming you with his scent, his warmth, his voice, his everything and you still want more. His lips nearly brush against the tip of your ear when he whispers, “I’ve missed you.”

Your hands are now fisting the back of his sweater, pressing your cheek to his chest as you muffle your cry, focusing more on the sound of his heartbeat. It feels like a dream, one that you never want to wake up.

It’s only when you have the strength to pull away from him that he releases you. He swipes his thumb under your eye, erasing the stains of your tears. He looks at you in a way that is so different than the way Donghyuck used to. His gaze is softer, a mix between the feeling of relief for having you in his arms and a yearning to have more as if you’re still far away from his reach.

I want him to stare at me like this forever.

“You’re freezing,” he says, noticing the coldness of your cheek against his palm. “Would you like to come over to my place? I can make you something warm.”

You let out a tiny laugh. “That would be nice.”

***

Jaehyun’s sweater is too big that the hem falls to the middle of your thighs. Your clothes are in the dryer, making rumbling noise that’s loud enough to fill the awkward silence between you. Drying your hair with a towel he gave you, you take a seat next to him, careful enough not to invade his personal space too much.

“How are you feeling?” Jaehyun asks, handing you a cup of hot chocolate.

“Warmer now, thanks.” You wrap your fingers around the mug, seeing a cloud of steam erupting from your drink. 

“It’s been a while since we last saw each other. I’m glad you look fine.” 

“I am. I feel fine. More so than I’ve ever been.” And it’s not a lie. Being here with him, despite everything that happened, makes you feel at ease. He makes you feel as if you had been embarking on a trip for so long and now you’re finally home. “Were you, umm…” Were you planning to wait for me at the library? Have you been waiting for me all this time? Or was it just a mere coincidence that we bumped into each other again?

“Were I what?”

“Never mind.” You don’t have the bravery to do it. Flushed, you quickly take a sip of your drink.

“I was about to wait for you,” he suddenly confesses, nearly making you choke. “I was… worried about you. I kept wondering whether something bad happened.” His voice gradually turns into murmurs as he continues. “And I thought... After what happened... You hated me.”

The ticking sound of the clock echoes like thunder when silence hangs in the room. “I would never hate you, Jaehyun…” You’re unconsciously rubbing the edge of your mug with your thumb, eyes fixated on the glass instead of him. “There’s no way I could hate you.”

From the corner of your eyes, you could see him turning his head to face you. “Well, you stopped visiting for three months without leaving a word. It was hard for me to stay positive,” he says, a bit teasingly, “And I had no idea how to contact you either. I didn’t know what else to do but wait in the library every day until I could see you again. So that’s what I did.”

Blood is rushing to your face. He did wait for me. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” He chuckles and you just realized how much you missed hearing it. “You don’t need to. I’m glad we can meet again.”

“Me too.” You mirror his smile. “You know, you could’ve just looked me up online.”

“Then, why didn’t you?” He asks and your heart stops. “Why didn’t you call me?”

You have to tell him the truth, you owe him that much. “I couldn’t. The way Donghyuck looked at me when I broke up with him made me feel so guilty and I knew I would hate myself even more if I ran back to you right after.”

“Why?” Jaehyun questions in a whisper. “What did you feel guilty for?”

Your heartbeat roars so thunderously loud, you can hear it in your ears. “Because he said the reason why I broke up with him was that… I had feelings for you.”

Jaehyun stays in silence for a few seconds and it drives you insane. Eventually, he leans forward to lay his cup down on the coffee table. “So…” He hesitantly speaks. “Did you tell him he was wrong about that?”

You tighten your hold around your cup. “I…” Taking a deep breath, you confess. “I didn’t.”

And there are so many things to be said, but none of you dares to speak. The silence is deafening, its invisible arms strangling you little by little and you’re trapped, not knowing whether to ask him to respond or just run away before your heart explodes to pieces.

Jaehyun does that look again where he stares at you like you own his heart, giving you the permission to hold it or crush it however you like. “Your hair is still dripping water,” he says, reaching out to place his hands around the towel and gently dab your strands, squeezing out the excess water and he’s so close, you can truly see the color of his eyes. In the soft, yellowish light of his room, they’re a little bit darker, a stark contrast to his pale skin. You’re distracted with the way his eyes shimmer under the light, the way he breathes so softly, warm breath hitting your lips.

And you don’t know who initiate it, but for the next breath you take, you’re gasping for it against his mouth. Jaehyun’s lips move slow against yours, tentative and patient, waiting for you to react. But he doesn’t have to wait, not when you’ve been wanting to do this for so long. Not when both of you have been wishing for it to happen.

If your mind wasn’t too deluded with the thoughts of him, how he feels against your body, how he tastes on your tongue, how the low grunt and moan that escape from the back of his throat successfully send shivers down your spine, you would’ve probably thought about how different he was compared to Donghyuck. Jaehyun was so tender, cradling your figure so gently as if you were about to break into pieces if he moves too fast. His kisses aren’t as rushed and bruising as Donghyuck’s, but they’re deep and just as passionate, if not more. The effects that his lips have on your skin burn stronger than anything you’ve ever felt. And if you thought Donghyuck reminded you of the sun, Jaehyun was the blazing sun himself.

But you couldn’t think of Donghyuck. You can’t think of anything else but Jaehyun. Right now, he’s the only one that matters.

“Push me away anytime you want,” he says, eyes dark and hazy, as he circles a hand around your waist to press your body flat against his chest.

With one hand fisting his collar, you let your lips taste him once more. “I never want you to.”

Your soft gasp is muffled by the skin of his neck when Jaehyun lifts your body off the couch, and you tangle your legs around his waist for support as he carries you toward his bedroom. Despite the growing, overwhelming passion between you, he lies you down so gently on the bed, hovering above you as he paints your name at the skin below your ear. You let out a sigh, pulling him closer and closer until you can sink completely into his warmth. 

No words are being exchanged because they don’t need to. Jaehyun speaks with his eyes, expresses his feelings with his lips, and carves your body with nothing but affection and adoration with his gentle hands. It amazes you how different sex can feel when there are feelings involved. It’s a connection, not just between your body and his but your mind, your soul, and every bit of your heart.

You’re more sensitive to his touch that even the slightest slide of his finger can make you arch your back. Jaehyun swallows every gasp, every moan of his name that tumbles down your lips and you do just the same with his.

He only stops to give you the chance to catch your breath when he’s fully sheathed inside you. His fingers tremble as they caress your face. “Are you okay?” He asks, sounding breathless and hoarse. He looks even more beautiful like this, skin glistening with sweat, lips bruised and swollen by kisses, pale cheeks reddening at the feeling of you peering into his eyes.

You smile, gaze softening. “I’m fine.”

Jaehyun has never looked so content before, so relieved, so happy and it makes you feel something in your stomach—something that you haven’t felt for months—to know that you’re the reason behind his most genuine, beautiful smile. When he whispers, “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me,” into your ear, you know that he’s not talking about the time you were absent from the library. His words have more weight to them as if he’s been waiting for you for years as if you once belonged to him before something separated the strings between you.

“I’m going to move, okay?” Jaehyun murmurs against your lips, and you let out a shaky breath, nodding a little.

He takes it slow, waiting for you to adjust to his rhythm as he keeps his eyes on your expression to make sure he’s not hurting you in any way. His eyes are half-lidded, cheeks flushed, lips parted in a small moan, barely audible. He splays one hand on the inner part of your thigh, fingers pressing hard against the supple skin as he pins it down to the bed, spreading your legs wider so he can press himself deeper inside you.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers against your jawline. “So beautiful…”

You nibble at your lip, circling your arms around his shoulders, raking your nails down his back as he picks up the pace. He’s perfect, he’s so perfect at everything he does—the sway of his hips, the angle, the way he changes from giving shallow to deep thrusts in accordance to your expression, knowing exactly what you need. 

He kisses you every time you give him the chance and it makes everything a lot more intimate, makes you feel more vulnerable, makes you feel more exposed. “I’m in love with you,” he says, forehead pressing against your own. “I’ve always been… All this time…”

There’s a surge of joy washing through your entire body and it’s so intense, you find yourself hiding your face in the crook of his neck, your vision blurred with tears. How can you feel so complete when this is your first time with him?

“Jae—” You gasp, your thighs trembling as you wrap your legs around his hips, arms hugging his shoulders tighter. “Jaehyun, I’m—I’m close—”

At your words, Jaehyun untangles your arms from his body and sits on his heels. He takes a hold of your waist and slams his hips harder to yours, driving you to the edge until you’re left sobbing against the sheets. He pulls away on the last second to finish himself off, tainting your stomach as a low grunt breaks free from the back of his throat. His bangs are falling over his eyes, a bead of sweat rolling down from his chest to his lean stomach and he still looks like a painting, one that you can’t seem to stop admiring.

“Wait, don’t move,” he says as if you had the strength to do so. “I’ll clean you up.”

When he comes back from the bathroom, fully clothed in a white tee and black sweat pants, he takes care of you so attentively, dabbing warm towel along your skin, swatting the bangs out of your eyes. A gentle smile never leaves his face but he blushes whenever your eyes make eye contact, though not as apparent as the shakes on his fingertips. 

“You’re so good at this,” you tease him, propping your elbows on the bed. “Must have a lot of experience with women, I’m sure.”

“I’ve only ever been with you,” he answers and it doesn’t sound like a lie.

“What?”

His movement stops, acknowledging the appalled look on your face. “There’s… something you need to know.” He slips under the comforter, lying down on his side, and makes sure it covers your body to your shoulders to keep you warm. “That day, when we first met… It wasn’t our first time meeting each other.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows are adjoined in the middle. “When did we first meet then?”

Jaehyun falls quiet, eyes searching yours. “In the same library,” he says, “Seventy-four years ago.”

***

“Where are we?” The question leaves your lips as you scan your surroundings. Jaehyun has taken you somewhere you haven’t been before, a rural area in the foothills of Jiri Mountain. After spending more than three hours drive from Seoul, seeing nothing but never-ending roads and traffic signs, it feels refreshing to see a charming little village, blanketed in a snow of white and soft pink, with the sound of water streams soothing your ears and cold wind of April caressing your cheeks.

“Hwagae,” he claims, his hand never leaving yours as he walks next to you, taking shorter strides to match your step. “People usually think that Jinhae is the best place to see cherry blossoms, but for me, it’s here.” He glances at the way your fingers are intertwined with his, smiling timidly to himself. “But maybe due to personal reasons.”

“Well, you’re not lying…” You murmur in awe, eyes widening at the sight of cherry blossoms trees that line the road, following both sides of a turquoise-blue stream, pebbles whisked about in the under wash like pieces of glitter. “It’s beautiful.”

You can hardly pay attention to anything else so when Jaehyun presses a kiss against your hairline, your heart nearly leaps out of your chest. “It is, isn’t it?” He says, pushing some loose strands behind your ear. “Beautiful.”

With his eyes locked with yours, it seems like he’s praising something else and you look away, cheeks heating up at his words. “How long does this road goes?”

“Around four kilometers.” Jaehyun follows your steps. “There are more than a thousand cherry blossom trees around. Locals call this lane the Marriage Road as it is said that lovers who walk hand-in-hand under the trees will get married and live happily ever after.”

He tightens his grips around your hand, and you can swear your palm is getting sweaty from how nervous you are. “You just can’t stop making me blush, can you?”

“I’m just stating out facts.” He chuckles and it’s even more beautiful than the whole scenery. He’s more beautiful than anything you’ve seen. But when he speaks, all trace of humor has dissipated. “You may not remember but... This was the place where I asked you to marry me.”

You have seen it coming but it still shocks you, nonetheless. It’s easier to treat him as a liar who’s telling superstitious stories and pointing things about you because he’s a stalker that knows more about you than he should. But the more he tells his stories, the more they feel like the truth and it’s not just a hunch. His stories are his versions of the dreams you’ve been having. The dreams that you’ve gotten ever since you first met him, and you never told anyone about that.

As you take a seat on the nearest bench, Jaehyun hands you his journal—the one he’s been using to write his novel. “I think it’s time for you to read the story.” But as you reach out to open it, he lays his hand on top of yours. “Before that,” he says, “Remember what I asked you? I want you to guess the ending for me.”

You’ve never thought about it, never imagined how the ending of his story would unravel. He has told you that it was about a pair of lovers meeting each other by fate and separated tragically by death, you knew that much. But anything could’ve separated them, whether it was because of sickness, accident, or simply because of old age, you could’ve guessed wrong. Yet, when your lips moved without thinking, providing answers that make your heart jolt, Jaehyun smiles and says, “Correct.” He then opens the book and gives you the chance to run your eyes through every passage. It’s written in a first-person narrative, allowing you to see through Jaehyun’s eyes as he unveils his story. 

The female lead has your name.

Every line. Every word. Every description. They feel like deja vu and the tiny hairs at your nape begin to raise. Your fingertips tremble as they move to open new pages. These are memories. They truly happened in the past. As you read, you can feel your own coming back, little by little, and by the time you’re halfway through the story, you can guess the next part that’s about to happen or correct little details that may have slipped from his mind.

“They were lilies,” you say, fingers tracing his perfect handwriting. “Not white roses.”

“What?”

“The flowers you gave me on our first anniversary.”

Jaehyun takes a shaky breath, and when he chuckles it sounds like a peal of tiny laughter and a choked sob at the same time. “Is that so?” He weakly asks, fixing his gaze to his lap. “I’m sorry, I must have forgotten.”

But he remembers everything else, everything that matters, even the way he felt back then. You could tell the love he once experienced with you through his eyes, the longing he has suffered as he waits for you to remember him once more, and the agony of being separated from you.

It’s easier to cry than to breathe when the memories of your past life start to dawn on you but you provide your best effort to stay reserved. There are more you need to learn.

The reason why he visited the library was not because he lived nearby. He moved there so he could visit the library, as it was the first time he met you in the previous life. “I was hoping she would remember the place as it was something we both grew fond of,” Jaehyun wrote in his journal, “She always thought I had a passion for books. She was wrong. She was the one who taught me that stories could mean something more. That they could make you feel alive, make you feel something you’ve never experienced just by words. I’d like to believe that these stories were the ones who brought us together, so we could create our own and maybe then, we could inspire other people—to make them feel alive with our stories.

I waited for her every day, from one season to another. The memories I have of her have always been there with me ever since I could remember, but that did not guarantee hers would resurface. Maybe she was looking for me. Maybe she was not. Either way, I couldn’t give up. I would not give up. 

And finally, one day, I saw her again. In the same library, with the same little smile she always had whenever she had her eyes fixated on her book. She appeared exactly the same as the first time I met her 74 years ago. I could not breathe, trapped between reaching out to her or just standing still in the distance, because when our eyes met for a brief second, she looked away. 

She did not remember me.

I was crushed. Devastated. I was nothing but a stranger. Twenty-five years I had been searching for her and now that she stood before me, I lost the ability to speak. It took me another week until I could find the bravery within me. I tried my best to appear as nonchalant as possible, even when my heart was breaking, even when my hands were shaking. I sank my nails into my palms so I wouldn’t take her hand and pull her into my embrace. When she told me her name, I was shocked. Her last name was different but her first name was the same, and I wanted to laugh. Fate could be so cruel, letting her keep her name but not her memories. 

But memories could be re-created, and I learned that none of her habits had changed. I might be a stranger, but to me, she was not. She was my wife and I wanted to hold her. I wanted to tell her I love her and hear her say the words back to me. I was ready to start over, to make her fall in love with me once more but before I could even begin, I learned that she had belonged to someone else.

And what killed me was that… She did not look happy with him.”

Your breathing stalls. Everything makes sense now. He’s been holding everything to himself. This was the secret he kept from you. And that time when he almost kissed you… What did you say to him?

“Please don’t pretend, not when you’re with me.”

That’s what he did. He stopped pretending. 

And you pushed him away, treating both of your feelings and his like a mere high school crush when they were something deeper than anything you’ve ever had. 

You place your lower lip between your teeth, nibbling at it until it grows white. He must have been so hurt, you realize, I’m the worst.

“Are you okay?” Jaehyun asks, reaching out to take your hand. “You don’t have to read it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I—” You shake your head, hoping the tears won’t fall. You give him a reassuring smile. “I want to. I need to remember.” Your smile doesn’t deceive him but he gives you the space you need, believing the honesty in your words.

Your marriage with him only lasted for four years before you passed away in your sleep, your weak lungs could no longer support your system, and through his story, you learned that Jaehyun followed you to the place he shouldn’t have. Because just a few minutes later after you took your final breath, he slit both of his wrists with a knife and hugged your body close to his chest, his blood drenching the white sheets underneath. His lips lingered against your hairline as he spoke, “I’ll see you again when you wake up.”

His neat handwriting starts to turn into dark splotches of ink as it is tainted by your tears. You’ve remembered. You’ve remembered everything. Everything that makes you happy and everything that hurts, you’re reliving each and every one of them. 

“Why?” You sob, shoulders quivering as you try to keep your emotions contained. “Why did you do that? You could’ve lived for many more years. Could’ve found someone else.” You bury your face in your palms, voice muffled by your skin. “You could’ve been happy without me.”

You can’t see how he looks at you, can’t feel his touch as he’s nowhere near, but you hear him take his breath. “My mother used to say,” he says, “that two people who are meant to be would always find their way to each other, even in the afterlife.” Jaehyun moves and kneels on the ground in front of you, his hands prying yours away from your face and his smile has never looked this blissful. “That’s why,” he continues, voice so soft it’s almost as light as the wind. “If there’s a chance, no matter how little it is, for me to see you again I would gladly trade my eternity for it.”

There are emotions you can’t explain, ones that you can’t understand. Emotions that make you cry as if the world was ending but also ones that make you feel so blessed to be born into this world, to be able to see him again, to witness his beautiful smile, his beautiful soul, and the beautiful love he has for you.

“Why are you crying?” Jaehyun chuckles softly but the quiver in his voice betrays him. He strokes your cheek, drying your tears with the pad of his thumb. 

Leaning into his touch, you sob against his palm, “I love you,” you confess, “I love you, Jaehyun. Even if my memories never came back, I’d still fall in love with you. Over and over again. I’m sorry you had to wait—”

Jaehyun abruptly stands on his knees, pulling you into his embrace. As your eyes widen in surprise, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, whispering, “If I had to wait a thousand years to be able to have this one moment with you, I’d gladly do it in a heartbeat.” His shoulders begin to shake and you wrap your arms around them, drenching the fabric of his shirt with your tears. “I love you too.”

There’s a voice inside your head that says, ah... so this is how it feels. 

Love... is not so complex after all. It doesn’t have to be. It’s not something to be understood. It’s not something to be thought endlessly. It’s not a choice to be made.

It’s a feeling, and feelings are meant to be felt. And you realize that happiness does not only emerge when your love is answered with the same passion. Happiness is already there in your heart just by loving him. You love him. You just love him. Entirely. Infinitely. 

So you kiss him with the biggest smile you can make, you pull him close with every strength that you have and you let him stay. In this life or another, you will let him stay.

And you will see him again when you wake up.

***

[emerald-chaos]

Insomnia

*gif not made by me, credit goes to the owner*

Hi Everyone! So it's been probably like...10 years since I wrote my last fic lol. Watching TFATWS has rekindled my undying love for Bucky Barnes and I just couldn't help but start writing again. I had to get my feelings out! I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I've been considering writing some more parts...so tell me if that's something you'd be interested in! I appreciate any and all constructive feedback or just feedback in general! Much love.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2533 (lowkey popped off...oops)

Warnings: Just in case...vague allusions to a dark past, struggles with mental illness, explicit language, and some suggestive conversation. Oh and some really bad jokes lol. Fluffy and angsty.

No matter how much you tossed and turned, how many sheep you counted, or how much you prayed and pleaded to any higher power that would listen – the release of sleep just wasn’t going to happen. You’re not sure why you were surprised, it’s not like this was the first time. You let out a heavy sigh and toss off the covers. This has been a nightly occurrence for as long as you can remember. When you were trying to rest, when there was no noise to block out the images in your head, it was a battle. A battle which you have always lost.

You flip on the bright florescent lights of the bathroom as you trudge in, dragging your feet in exhaustion. It takes a minute for your eyes to adjust to the harshness of the light as you place your hands onto the countertop. The cool marble feels good against your palms as you close your eyes and lean your head back, another sigh leaving your lips. You twist your neck from side to side, trying to release some tension and maybe get a satisfying pop. No such luck. As you open your eyes and gaze upon the person staring back at you a small laugh tumbles from your chest.

Jesus, she looks awful.

The dark circles that permanently reside below your eyes appear more pronounced than usual. The corners of your mouth hang low and you just look…tired. Like you were rode hard and put away wet.

The bottle of melatonin tucked away on your counter catches your eye. You pick it up and twirl it as you inspect the writing. “Sleep Support” you read, “may help promote restful sleep”. What a load of shit. You place the bottle back down and inspect the orange one next to it. The pills inside were about as useful as the melatonin. Nothing seemed to quiet the voices or stop the scenarios that plagued your mind. You splash some cold water on your face and grab for a towel to pat it dry. Your eyes drift to the mirror again, as if though the water was going to wash away the dead look in your eyes.

Yeah, fat chance.

Before you know it, your legs are carrying you through the compound. The only sounds present are the whirring of various appliances and the soft patter of your feet against the tile floors. The moonlight casts shadows over the various pieces of furniture and lights your path. Your fingers curl around the handle as you pull the sliding glass door open. The crisp outside air kisses your skin as you step out and close the door behind you. You find yourself settling down in your usual spot on the balcony and you sink into the comfort of the chair.

Many a sleepless night has been spent out here, admiring the way the moonlight gleams off of a nearby pond. Before the compound and the balcony, it was a fire escape and a bottle of bourbon. You kind of missed that coping mechanism a little bit. You were thankful, of course, to call this place your home. Thankful to feel safe for once. Thankful to be a part of a team that felt like more of a family than any sorry piece of shit who had been in your life before. Not that you were bitter about that or anything. A little baggage builds character. However, life hasn’t always been kind to you and your stupid brain had a cruel way of constantly reminding you of that fact.

In all honesty, Tony rescued you. You absolutely hated to allow him to relish in that fact, but it was true. He took a chance on a royally fucked up kid out of college who managed to skate by and earn a mechanical engineering degree. If you were to ask him, he would say it was because the first words you said to him were fuck off. Apparently, something about that translated to, “hey, I would be a great addition to your tech and development team”. Although, you were pretty sure you just really meant that he should fuck off. I mean, the guy’s reputation does have a bit of moral gray area to it. Somehow, some way, your tenacity made an impression on the billionaire. Now here you were - living at the Avenger’s compound, sitting on a balcony at 3:30 in the morning because you couldn’t turn your brain off long enough to find some peace and sleep. What a life.

Even as you were sitting here in your special spot, reminiscing about some actual good memories – your brain still tried to drift into the darkness. Glass breaking; voices, thick with hate, engaged in a screaming match, and the cold nights spent trying to find a safe space to eat and lay your head. Your fingers gripped into the arms of the chair as you felt the heaviness in your chest increase.

“God damn it,” you cursed through gritted teeth.

The panic attacks were a second nature at this point, but you still really hated when you lost control. Your eyes closed tight as you tried to rack your brain to remember the bullshit your therapist had told you earlier in the week. Something about 5 things you can see?

“We gotta stop meeting like this, Doll”

The voice ripped you from inside your mind and back to reality. Your eyes opened and were met with a beautiful pair of cerulean ones. You blamed the skip in your heartbeat on your fading panic attack - although, you knew better than that.

“Well, it seems to me that the only logical conclusion is that you’re stalking me, Barnes” you quipped as a grin spread across your face.

“Could say the same about you,” Bucky retorted as he sank into the chair beside you, “besides, been doin’ this a lot longer than you’ve been around”.

You rolled your eyes, but the super soldier had a point. Almost each and every time, aside from the ones that happened when the team was away, you two would meet like this – here on the balcony, both searching for something to replace the sleep that neither of you could find.

“Yeah, we get it, you’re old” a laugh fell from your lips as Bucky snorted at your remark, a grin remaining ever present on his lips.

The familiar silence took over as he leaned his head back against the chair, closing his eyes. Meanwhile, yours were hungrily taking him in - tracing over the stubble on his chin, the soft pinkness of his parted lips. Recently he’d gotten his hair cut and even though you much preferred the long hair, you would rather die than actually admit that to him. Your crush on the 106 year old grumpy ass was one of your best kept secrets. At least, you thought you’d kept it from being painfully obvious.

The man sitting before you, he had a tough exterior and a horrific history, but you knew him better than that. You knew about the way his nose scrunched up when you made him laugh and the way his eyes looked as he listened intently to every story you ever told him. You knew the sweet melody of his laugh and the far off stare that meant he was also held captive by his own thoughts. This late-night rendezvous had become somewhat of a routine for the two of you and you would be lying if you said it wasn’t your favorite part of the day.

The first time it was a short nod and typical white person, thin-lipped smile as you left to find a different spot to suffer alone. Shortly after, it developed into cohabiting the balcony – staying on your own separate sides of course, only occasionally sharing words. Then, before you knew it, the two of you would be sitting beside each other, shooting the shit like you’d known each other for years. Just two, incredibly fucked up individuals, trying to make each other feel a little more human.

Bucky had always given off the quiet, brooding energy. Typically he kept to himself, other than with close friends like Steve, choosing to stand in the corner and listen to the conversation rather than be a part of it. Occasionally he would give a quip during a meeting that would catch people off guard, but mostly he just sat there and stared. The Bucky you had come to know was nothing like the person that others wanted to make him out to be. Sure, at one point he was a masterful assassin who killed like he got pleasure from it – but that wasn’t him. The Winter Soldier and Bucky Barnes were not synonymous.

If only the world could meet Bucky at 3am.

“What’s going on in that empty head of yours over there?” Bucky’s voice once again brought you back to reality as you laid your eyes on the familiar grin plastered across his face.

“Please,” you huffed, cheeks tinted a light shade of pink at the thought of him catching you staring, “which one of us has a college degree again?”

His laugh was a symphony to your ears. Your smile mirrored his when he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at you.

“So, what is it tonight? That nightmare again?” he asked, voice dropping an octave as his facial features softened in a way you really hoped only you got to see.

“Mm, not quite” you responded, your voice a broken whisper.

Bucky wasn’t the type to pry, but with you he wouldn’t even have to. Talking to him, sharing your deepest secrets and fears, telling him about the nightmares that kept you awake at night – it all came easily. Too easily.

“This week it’s...it’s that image of my stupid mother. Standing there with her black eyes and busted lip, telling me that it was me that was the problem. That it was me who...” you swallowed hard, the heaviness creeping back into your chest and tears fighting to wet your eyes. God you hated that you let this get the best of you.

Just as your mind started to bring you back to that dark place it was interrupted by the feeling of warmth spreading over your body. You looked down to see Bucky’s large hand resting right above your knee. When your eyes met again, he gave you a soft look that made your heart scream.

“I’m sorry,” you could tell he meant it as he gave your knee a soft squeeze.

A small smile flashed over your face and you had to resist the urge to reach out and cup his soft, stubbled cheek in your hand.

“Hey, we’re all a little fucked up, right?” you joked.

“Some more than others,” he replied, those beautiful wrinkles appearing around his nose as he scrunched it up with another laugh.

“Thanks, Buck... I’m sure you’d rather be doing anything other than listening to my sob story,” you reluctantly broke eye contact and looked down at the hem of your shirt as you fiddled with it in your fingers.

You were all too aware at the loss of contact as Bucky drew his hand back and leaned back into his chair.

“Doll,” he started as he leaned his head back and closed his eyes again - you could swear you almost saw a grin on his lips, “there are very few things I’d rather do than sit with you on the balcony at 3am”.

At that moment it felt as though time stood still. Sure, you had flirtatious banter back and forth occasionally and made a habit out of spilling your deepest regrets to each other during the wee hours of the morning, but this felt different. This felt like a confession.

You’d be lying to yourself if you tried to convince yourself, or anyone else for that matter, that you didn’t have a thing for him. I mean - who wouldn’t? The guy was a gentleman; he was soft spoken and caring, he was a dork who loved to crack jokes at the most inappropriate times, the type of person who would give you the shirt off of his own back if it meant you were taken care of.

He....well, he was Bucky.

And god damn it if you didn’t love him.

You’re unsure of how much time has passed, but one minute you’re sitting on your chair, chewing your lip and droning on about the man in front of you in your head. The next minute you found yourself on his lap, knees seated on either side of his waist as your legs straddle him and your hands connect with the skin they so desperately craved to feel. Bucky’s eyes opened slowly and met yours as you let the pad of your thumb gently run along the curve of his bottom lip. The uneven breaths leaving your chest hitched as you felt his hands grip your hips softly. Refusing to break eye contact, Bucky gently pressed a kiss to the pad of your thumb. You dragged his lower lip down briefly.

“Well,” he began. His voice was barely above a whisper but it’s thick, lustful tone made you shiver from head to...well, you know, “are you gonna kiss me, Doll? Or do I have to do all the work myself?”

He barely finished his sentence before your lips captured his. It was messy, almost all teeth and tongue. It was needy, as if it was the last time either of you would ever kiss anyone again. It was fucking incredible.

Bucky’s metal arm snaked up your back and found its way into your hair, curling his fingers gently around the strands at the back of your head, as his other arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to his form. He was intoxicating. This whole situation was something you had briefly imagined months ago, but ultimately pushed out of your mind. There was no way that he would ever be interested in someone like you. Yet, here he was, tongue fighting for entrance into your mouth.

You aren’t quite sure who pulled away first. Both of you were gasping for air, chests heaving up and down as you both stared into each other's lust-blown pupils.

“You kiss pretty well for someone who hasn’t had a girlfriend since 1940,” you teased, laughing as he rolls his eyes at the comment.

“You just don’t know when to shut that mouth of yours, do ya?” he practically growled, ever so slightly tightening his grip on your waist, and you almost lost it from just the sound of his voice alone.

“Why don’t you make me, Barnes?” you leaned in close, warm breath fanning over the shell of his ear.

A yelp escaped your throat as you were suddenly jerked up to a standing position, locking your ankles behind his back as he effortlessly held you up by your thighs.

“Oh Doll,” he chuckled darkly into your neck, almost making you pass out from the sensation, “I thought you’d never ask”.

[high-functioning-lokipath]

SH - Sherlock x Depressed!Reader - With a Little Help from My Friends - Words: 2,793

IMPORTANT A/N - PLEASE READ: As stated in the title, this story contains discussions of depression. There is mention of suicidal thought and self-harm. I personally don't think it's too intense in it's descriptions HOWEVER!!! If this will trigger you, for your own health and safety please do not read. My messages are always open if you'd like to talk. I wrote this partially based on my own feelings so I can understand to at least a degree. You're amazing and I love you all. As far as this story goes, just remember: it has a happy, very fluffy ending but it doesn't start that way. I hope you enjoy it, feel free to leave a comment!

Brief Backstory: Reader is friends with John and Sherlock. She is a nurse who works with John. The three met shortly after Sherlock came back. Sherlock and Reader have crushes on each other but won't admit to it. I think the story explains everything else.

"Y/N, I'm going to be honest," John said, putting his hand on your shoulder comfortingly. "I may have PTSD but I cannot fully put myself in your shoes. My depression is different than yours." You had called your best friend, John Watson, in a mild panic. You had been feeling depressed for some time, as he knew, but that day had been especially bad. There was no particular reason but your depression had gotten so intense that you knew you needed help to get past this particular wave. John invited you over to 221B, assuring you that his flatmate would be out for the next couple of hours. "As a doctor, I am going to prescribe you some medication. Lowest dose possible and only because I want to help you get some immediate relief but I know you do not want them to become permanent. Let's work on finding another solution for you, ok?"

"I don't know, John," you replied. You'd asked John to be your Doctor since you didn't go to one regularly and he didn't mind your irregular checkups. "I've tried just about everything. The only outlet that seems to help is writing and even then," you trailed off, trying not to cry again. "This feeling just won't go away and I don't even know why it's there in the first place. I just want it to stop."

"I think you should talk to Sherlock."

"What?" You squeaked. "Why in the world would I talk to Sherlock?"

"I can't tell you why, Y/N. As both your Doctor and Sherlock's, I have to respect certain amounts of patient confidentiality. However, as your friend, I think you should talk to him."

"I don't know."

"Trust me," He replied. Smirking slightly, he added, "Doctor's orders."

"Ok, John," you chuckled. He smiled and hugged you. "Thanks."

"Now how about we go and fill this prescription and then maybe get some ice cream?"

"Well, honestly," you sighed. "The ice cream sounds great but I didn't sleep well last night. I was actually wondering if I could just take a nap here for a bit. I sleep better here sometimes." You blushed but John nodded understandingly.

"Of course," He replied. "I'll run down to the drugstore and fill this for you. Meanwhile you get some rest. I'll let Sherlock know you're here just in case he ends up getting back before I do. Will you be ok by yourself?"

"Yeah," You smiled. "This is a safe space for me. I'll go grab a blanket. Thanks again."

"Don't mention it. Just remember, talk to him."

"I'll try."

About 15 minutes later, Sherlock arrived back at the flat. He'd gotten John's texts.

John: If you get home in the next 45 minutes, be quiet. Y/N is over and she's taking a nap. I have to run out for something.

Sherlock: Is everything ok? - SH

John: She said she had a bad night.

Sherlock: She must have had a reason to come over in the first place though. - SH

John: She's going to need to tell you that herself. Don't ask. Do you understand me? Let her tell you. Be nice, ok?

Sherlock: When am I not nice to Y/N? - SH

John: Ok, that is true. You like her too much to be rude to her. If you could just hold back your deductions for one second I will say this: you two have more in common than you think.

He hurried home, not to wake you up of course, but because he wanted to see you. If there was something seriously wrong, he wanted to try and brace himself for it first. He couldn't help the smile playing at the corner of his lips when he thought of you. You two were good friends, that much was obvious to everyone. But Sherlock could see the potential for something more. He liked you a lot. You were just as smart, sassy, and sarcastic as he was. But you also could be extremely kind and caring to others and especially to him. He still didn't quite understand why you cared for him so but he was grateful. Before he could dwell on that too much longer, he arrived at 221B.

He quietly slipped inside and smiled at what he saw. You were curled up on the couch, sleeping like a baby. Apparently, though, you'd kicked off the blanket you had grabbed. Instead of picking up the blanket, he decided to take off his long coat and carefully lay that over you. You quickly cuddled into the warm fabric, unconsciously taking a deep breath, inhaling his unique signature left behind on the coat. Satisfied with what he'd done, he took off his suit jacket and went to the kitchen to prepare some tea for when you woke up. He knew you had a favorite tea and, unless John moved it or drank it all, there still would be some in the cupboard.

You woke to the smell of your favorite tea and a hushed exclamation from the kitchen. Opening your eyes slowly you saw Sherlock in at the counter trying to set up a tray with the teapot and cups. Recognizing your surroundings a bit more, you realized what was on top of you. Sherlock was just about to bring out the tray but you decided to pretend you were still asleep. The chances of fooling the Detective were low, but you wanted to try.

"There," He whispered to himself, setting the tray on the coffee table. You could hear him settling down on his chair, likely getting into his 'palace pose' as you called it. For a moment you were happy. You had actually gotten some quality sleep, you were currently cuddled up in Sherlock's famous coat and Sherlock had even made you tea. But that feeling quickly faded. Tears threatened to spill out of your still closed eyes as self-deprecating thoughts filled your mind.

'John probably told him to make me tea. He probably covered me with his coat so I wasn't as much of a distraction. He doesn't want me here. He never does. Why does he even tolerate my presence? He probably wishes we'd never met,' You thought. Your mind was going a million miles an hour and gaining. Without your notice, the tears began rolling down your cheeks and quiet sobs escaped your lips.

"Y/N?" Sherlock whispered. You're eyes shot open. You hadn't heard him get up. Now he was kneeling right next to you, one hand hovering over your arm. "Are you ok?"

"Oh, Sherlock!" You cried. "I-I wish I knew."

"C'mere," he said, motioning for you to sit up. Once you did so, he pulled you into a tight hug.

"What's this for?"

"You always give me and John a hug when you see us. You haven't done so for the past 5 days. I-" he paused briefly before lowering his voice and continuing. "I missed it."

"Oh." You weren't quite sure how to reply to that. You leaned into his embrace, letting yourself get lost in the moment.

"Y/N? Is there something I can do to help?"

"How much did John tell you?" You asked. You wouldn't have been mad exactly if John had told Sherlock to talk to you, but you wanted to think Sherlock was reaching out on his own.

"He told me you had a bad night."

"That's all?" You asked, surprised. You pulled away slightly and stared into his eyes. Sherlock nodded, frowning slightly as he tried to deduce you.

"Why are you afraid to talk to me?" You turned away, embarrassed and unsure what to say. "Be honest."

"I don't want you to make fun of me. I have-" You took a deep breath, steeling your nerves and preparing to just jump right in. "I have been extremely depressed lately and I didn't want to hear another speech about how all I need to do is exercise and eat right and stop thinking about sad things. Well you know what? I can't stop it! I can't help it if I feel like a useless pile of trash that should be thrown in the bin and burned." By the time you finished your little tirade, you'd gotten up and started pacing the floor. Then you turned and faced Sherlock. His expression was neutral but there was an obvious sadness in his eyes, one you didn't expect to see. It wasn't of pity. If you had seen that you also would have given up on the conversation. No, it was almost an understanding, an empathy. His eyes were actually glistening with tears.

"Have you ever felt like," he paused, voice unsteady. "Like giving up?" He whispered, unable to hold eye contact. You nodded silently. He got up slowly and walked towards you. At first, you thought he would hug you again but then he started unbuttoning his shirt.

"Uh, Sherlock?"

"Just wait a moment. I want to show you something." He carefully shrugged off the purple shirt that you, admittedly, loved so much and tossed it on the chair. "Only one person knows about this. You will be the second. You remember I told you about Moriarty's network?"

"Yes, the day we met. I asked you about your work, a simple question. And I got an answer that lasted 3 hours." Sherlock chuckled dryly.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"Oh, no. Please don't apologise. I-" You sighed, rubbing your forehead. "I tend to make jokes when I'm nervous."

"I know." He smiled at you with, yet again, a completely unreadable expression. "You remember though." You nodded, opting to stay silent as he explained. "Well, those 2 years dismantling his network weren't easy. Not physically and certainly not emotionally. As a result of the different missions, I received many wounds on my body in various locations. I was," He paused, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. "I was depressed, guilt-stricken and suicidal. I figured I had hurt my friends enough. If they thought I was dead maybe I should just go on with it."

"What changed your mind?"

"I didn't want to do it on a mission. I wanted to see home again one more time. So to temporarily relieve the pain I," He sighed. Well, I wouldn't let my wounds heal. I'd pick at them. Mycroft finally convinced me to come back officially because he needed my help. I never told him about this. I think he knows but we don't discuss it." He looked down, obviously embarrassed and feeling more emotionally naked than physically. "You can look," he said. It was as if he'd read your mind. You were trying to be respectful and not stare but you realized that's what he wanted to show you. You had, on occasion, seen him shirtless before but you had never realized how bad some of the scars were.

"Sherlock, I-I don't know what to say. I-" You were completely shocked. Not offended. But actually comforted that he understood you. "Thank you," You finally said.

"Actually I wanted to thank you. I didn't just show you this to prove that I understand your feelings." You looked at him confused. "The day we met. You were leaving work, correct?" You nodded.

"It had been my first day there. John had been happy with my work and requested that I stay assigned to his office permanently. John had already finished up and headed home but there was some paperwork I had to finish so I was leaving about an hour late. Come to think of it, John said he had plans with you that evening. Why were you there?"

"That's what I wanted to tell you. I met you less than a month after I came back. I had still been quite depressed so I was still picking at my injuries. That day had been a bad day for me. So I cancelled my plans with John and I decided to go back to where I started this whole mess and finish it."

"Wait, are you telling me that-"

"You saved my life." Sherlock took one of your hands in his own and held it tightly. "I had memorized the work schedules of most everyone there and knew how to slip in unnoticed."

"But you didn't factor in me."

"Correct. When I ran into you, quite literally in fact, as I was entering the building, I was surprised. Not just by your presence but by what I deduced about you. You intrigued me. I had to find out more about you so I invited you to have a cup of coffee with me."

"Which turned into dinner." Sherlock nodded. "And since you were so intrigued by me, you forgot all about that."

"In a manner of speaking. You weren't a cure-all, mind you. You helped, though, by giving me a new mystery to investigate: you. That night, when I got home, I told John everything. He helped me too and when I mentioned you he couldn't stop singing your praises. He is very proud of you and your work you know."

"Yeah, I guess so," You replied, a little embarrassed. "Thank you, Sherlock. I'm sorry that you went through all that, but, I'm glad I have someone who understands. And I'm glad you're here to help me."

"Me too, Y/N. Me too," He replied.

"Can I, um, can I have another hug?" You asked, blushing and smiling. Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"If you must," He sighed, holding his arms out. Any other day, you would have thought he genuinely didn't want personal contact. But today you realized he was simply teasing. You wrapped your arms around his waist and leaned your head on his chest. You felt him relax as he leaned forward a little to cocoon you in his arms. "I care about you, Y/N. I don't care about many people but you mean so much to me. I-" You looked up at him and pressed a finger to his lips to quiet him.

"You don't have to say it, Sherlock. I know." He smiled and looked somewhat relieved. You knew he wasn't good with feelings and that was fine with you. "I love you too."

"I wanted to be the first one to say that," He pouted. You chuckled softly and booped his nose.

"You already have." He smiled and kissed your forehead lightly.

"I know this won't fix everything right away. I know you'll still have bad days. But I wanted you to know you could come to me too."

"I know. Thank you again, Sherlock." At that moment, John walked in with a bag from the store.

"Oh, hello!" He chirped, happy to see you hadn't gotten into a yelling match. Then he noticed Sherlock's shirt, or rather, lack thereof. "So, uh," He stuttered, unsure of what to say. "What should I do with this?"

"First of all, thank you, John, for giving me the guts to talk to him about this. And second, I think I'll give it a try. You know, to try and prevent a really bad day when you guys aren't available or if talking still isn't enough. But for today I think I'll be alright," You said, turning to John with a smile.

"Well, I'm glad. So did you just talk about that or did he finally tell you that he's had the biggest schoolboy crush on you from the moment he met you?"

"John!" Sherlock yelled. You laughed loudly.

"Not in those words exactly, John," You replied. "Don't worry," You added, turning to Sherlock and ruffling his curls. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Good. Now if you don't mind, I need your input on this case."

"Me?" You asked, quite surprised.

"Yes," He said as if it was obvious. "You're a woman after all!"

"And that is important because?"

"The killer was a woman obviously but I can't understand why she would do it!" The two of you went off into your own little world, completely ignoring John as he cooked dinner.

John: Ok, mates, get your tuxs out. Won't be long now.

Greg: He finally proposed? 😀

John: Not yet, give it a week.

Mycroft: John, you forget I monitor his spending habits.

John: And?

Mycroft: He's had a ring purchased for some time now.

Greg: 3 days tops.💍

Mycroft: I would estimate about 3 days as well, Detective Inspector.

Greg: We're in a Group Text. Talking about our friend like a bunch of teenage girls at a slumber party. I think you can call me Greg.

Mycroft: If I must.

John: So, girls, will you help me make the plans?

Mycroft: Of course. He is blood after all.

Greg: Count me in! Wouldn't miss it! 🕵️👰

Sherlock BBC Taglist

@lucywrites02

@delightfulheartdream

@bartv21

@another-crazy-fangirl

@ladylulu143

@gaitwae

@for-hearthand-home

[mrpenguinpants]

Childe/Tartaglia: Fiancé HCs

Aww, I give major points to anyone that actually reads my tags because it’s a whole lot of word vomit and brainworms. THIS IS MY FINAL OFFERING TO CHILDE SO BUDDY  👏 COME 👏 HOME 👏 This will probably be my last fic this week since I’m going to be busy with term tests and 1.1. Can you tell how slow I am with these asks?

I need to stop tagging so much because tumblr keeps making me repost...

This isn’t necessarily a part 2 from my other Childe fic [ “Enemies” to “Lovers” ] but you can go ahead and read it that way. Not sure if this counts for tags but it doesn’t hurt. To be honest, I was planning for this to be the direct part 2 but then his character story dropped and I got slapped in the face with inspiration.

 [taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@youaskedfurret​ @diaxfeliz​ @wintergreen-aix​ @dandelily​ @thegayrubberducky​ @lovelykittycatmeow​ @yuunoagivesmelife​  @dokidokisama @hanniejji​  @mikeysbike​ @unionwitch​ @musekala​ @twistedsunnshiii​ @stanzastic​ @akaasea​

---

Childe/Tartaglia: Fiancé HCs

Your relationship with Tartaglia is unorthodox to say the least. Usually, the average length of an engagement is 13 to 18 months but you didn’t need a calendar to tell you it’s been far longer than that. You probably spent more time with your fiancé’s sister than with the man himself but that was okay with you. Tonia was a really sweet girl and you knew what you were getting into when you accepted and returned his feelings when you two first started going out.

Before he became a Harbinger you were friend’s with him and Tonia. Almost everyone in Snezhnaya was part of the Fatui, working in factories, or a devote follower of Tsaritsa. So it was a breath of fresh air to meet two people that didn’t align themselves to that mindset or become a slave to work. You slowly became closer to the two siblings until the day a stuttering and pink Tartaglia confessed his feelings to you. You think back on that moment fondly since that was probably the first and last time you’ve seen him act in such a shy manner.

The day he proposed to you was the night right before he became a Harbinger. It wasn’t anything grand and you were pretty sure he hadn’t even told Tonia he was planning on proposing that very night. He said that he was waiting for the right moment and somehow felt the right moment was when you were in-between consciousness. When you couldn’t even give him a proper answer since he popped the question right as you fell asleep, but for all intensive purposes, that was probably on purpose. You had to chase him down in freezing cold weather, coat not even properly tied, as you yelled he was a piece of shit and that if he never came back you would hunt him down and kill him yourself.

He just grinned innocently and waved back to you as the ship departed. When asked by a curious merchant who wasn’t native to Snezhnaya asked if he had some...family issues he simply waved it off and said you were his beloved fiancé. The merchant was left very confused on Snezhnaya’s customs and traditions on marriage.

You both made an agreement that only he would write to you. He said that it was because trying to get in contact with him would be impossible, considering how often he moves, plus the different names he goes under. But in actuality, it’s because he want’s to keep the people closest to him as private as possible. The Fatui know of his sister already and most likely know of your existence but as long as he remains a Harbinger they can’t do anything. He won’t let them. But the Fatui have many enemies and while he hates denying your existence, if it’s to make sure you live a peaceful life with his sister, he’ll continue to pretend he’s never heard of your name before.

While he writes to his sister that he’s taking care of trivial matters when he’s on his assignment, he writes a bit more honestly and detailed in his hidden letters to you. You make sure to keep them in a box hidden away from Tonia so she never discovers them but you have an inkling she knows what her brother is up to. She watches the way your face pinches, that your fingers clutch the paper a little tighter, and how you seem to tap the page two times in sequence.

Despite the raging winter storms that swirl around Snezhnaya, you are always warm. He thinks you’re secretly a pyro vision user waiting for the right moment to make good on your word and burn him alive. Whenever his travel’s run late into the night and he arrives home tired and cold, he seeks Tonia’s room to make sure she’s sleeping peacefully. Then to you to do the same. Sometimes when you’re lucky and you wake up early, you’re greeted to Tartaglia clinging onto you refusing to move because you’re warm. Even going through daily routine’s he always has an arm around you or some part of his body against yours. You feel that his habits is rubbing off on his sister because slow morning’s like these see’s you as the human heater. With Tonia hugging you from the front, arms wrapped around your waist, while Tartaglia support’s from behind, arms around the both of you. Your hands laced with his as you both act as a shield for little Tonia.  

Tartaglia’s hands are always numb. He could be in Natlan where it never snows or facing the harsh winters of Snezhnaya, they are always numb. As if the skin of his fingertips were scalded off. Touching anything gives him an uncomfortable sensation so he wears gloves all the time except for two occasions. When he need’s to replace his gloves with a new pair or to lace your hand into his. He can vaguely feel the heat from your hand, see that you don’t have the same callouses that he has from wielding weapons, and can feel the same tingling sensation that would usually have him wrenching his bare hand away if it had been anything or anyone else, besides his sister of course. Instead he holds on as if you’re his last lifeline in the middle of the ocean, commits to memory the feeling of your hand in his, and the pins and needles that prick his fingertips fade away.

He grows restless when life is ordinary and boring so he’s always off fighting or doing something completely dangerous. He was the same before he became a Harbinger which leads to some fights between the two of you. You both handle fight’s pretty badly due to the upbringing of Snezhnaya and it makes Tonia sad when she sees her family argue. So instead you convey your inner worries through taps. One is for annoyance. Two is for worry. Three is for anger.  Likewise, Tartaglia has his own system.

On one rare occasion, Zhongli managed to catch the sight of a flicker of light on Tartaglia’s clothing. It confuses him since aren’t ring’s meant to be worn on the hand? The only response he get’s from Childe when he asks why is a vague answer filled with mirth. He say’s that he’s holding onto it for someone. Zhongli doesn’t quite understand since wouldn’t it be better to keep the ring in a box if it were meant for someone else? Childe wears a ring on his pinky already but it might be a Snezhnaya tradition to wear one ring on the hand, while the other is close to the heart.

He keeps his cheerful attitude on even when it feels as if the world is crushing him. That might be why he names himself Childe. But when it’s just the two of you he takes the mask off, the armor slips off, and let’s himself relax. Time’s like this he just wants to hold you and as he puts it, recharge.

For all his confident nature in fighting he knows that a committed relationship with him is hard. That if you ever want to walk away and find someone new he won’t stop you, but that you never contact him or his family. He won’t open his heart for another person for a long while or ever. He would still give you your ring and whatever you choose to do with it is up to you.

Tartaglia’s goals won’t change. He still has his family to take care of and even if you decide to leave, that doesn’t change the fact he still sees you as apart of his family.

You don’t mind if his goal takes him away from Snezhnaya for years and years. Or if the letter’s he writes become fewer and fewer.  As long as he comes home you don’t mind waiting.

It’s the middle of the night and he’s still awake. He just returned from his last assignment and Tsaritsa is already sending him across Teyvat for “business” related reasons. He just finished checking up on Tonia to see her sleeping soundly. She’s growing up really fast, he smiles slightly at the thought. She can already sleep on her own. He gently opens the door to your room, well really it’s both of yours but he hasn’t been doing a lot of sleeping there, and cringes slightly at the creek the doors give.

He takes a small minute to lean on the doorway and relaxes. He won’t have enough time to bask in your presence if he’s too make it on time. The winter storm continues outside, as if Tsaritsa herself is yelling at him to start moving. He doesn’t think there’s ever been an instance when they’ve been silent.

“I care about three things in this world. My sister, you, and my home,” Tartalia says softly as he walks over and kneels down beside your laying form, resting his hand beside yours as he places a soft kiss on temple. “When those three things are safe I can rest.”

You tap him two times. Your hand has laced around his in a loose grip to which he tightens. You both sit in silence as he wait’s for the pins and needles to stop spreading across his arm before speaking again.

“I know I already proposed but let’s elope somewhere. My next assignment is taking me to Liyue. I heard it’s quite a beautiful place. I’m thinking a spring wedding perhaps?”

One more tap but he’s learned to take your annoyance as you jesting or being flustered.

“Promise me you’ll be safe,” you ask.

“I can try but I can’t guarantee everyone else will be,” he laughs.  

You tap him three times. If you weren’t half asleep you would have probably thrown your pillow at him. He gives one last chuckle as his finger’s rubs patterns into your hand.

“I promise,” he swears.

He hears you hum happily as you begin to relax back into slumber. Slowly letting the feeling of his heartbeat lull you to sleep until your grip loosens around his wrist. Even as the winter winds howl outside you can sleep so peacefully. Unlike him where in the back of his mind are restless thoughts. Tsaritsa is asking something huge of him, another test of his loyalty and strength. He silently stands up as to not wake you again, gives you one last squeeze of the hand, one last fond look, before he leaves. Closing the door as quietly as he can, he steels himself to go back out into the cold.

[writing-dead-clovers]

Class Fight (parent!c!Schlatt x daughter!reader)

Hints of c!Wilbur x reader. Kind of in a high school AU. Definitely putting in the hybrid parts for this story, makes it a bit more fun. This is a song fic, song is Class Fight by Melanie Martinez

Y/n eyes danced over to the brunette who had charmed her. He looked up and smiled, making the teen blush slightly. Wilbur was one of her oldest friends and definitely the hottest guy in her grade, sadly he was taken by the head cheerleader Sally Fisher. God, did Y/n envy her. Well, she would've if she didn't catch Sally locking lips with Dream, the school's star quarterback. Wilbur turned his attention to his girlfriend and grinned wildly as she made her way to him. They shared a quick kiss, making the h/c haired teen roll her eyes.

"Y/n Schlatt to the office to go home." Her teacher said. The teen nodded and put her laptop in her bag and left the classroom. The proud and polished horns of her father caught her eye as he was talking to her math teacher, probably charming the woman into giving his daughter a better grade. "Dad, ready to go?" "Of course princess, let's go." You followed your father out to the sleek black Impala, hopping in the passenger's seat.

"Your horns are growing in well, figured you'd have some nice ones, buttercup." You nodded, not really acknowledging him. "What's his name?" "What?" You father shot you a knowing look before turning his gaze back to the road. "You have that lovesick look, the same one you had when you first watched Captain America." "Chris Evans is different dad." Schlatt chuckled at his stubborn daughter. "What's his name?" "Dad!" "Or her, I won't judge." "Dad! What the hell?!" "Name, kid." "Wilbur Minecraft." "Phil's kid? The one that mowed our lawn?" "That was Techno, dad. Wilbur's the one who taught me guitar." "Ah, well what's stopping you from asking him out?" "His bitch of a girlfriend." "What's wrong with her?" "I caught her making out with Dream." "Who?" "Football player, dad. He's an ass." "Sounds about right." You watched the road, the car falling silent. "So are you going to tell me why one of your horns are cracked?" You winced at his stern tone. He noticed it. "It's nothing dad." "Y/n." Sure, he wasn't the best father, but he knew when something was wrong, especially after catching his daughter a few days ago with a limp and a fading black eye. "Sally and her friends jumped me. Said that I need to stay silent about her and Dream." "Princess, I'm gonna tell you this once and only once, okay?" Y/n nodded. "The next time she puts her hands on you, go for the throat. I assume you have pictures of everything she did. And told a few teachers." "I told Ms. Groves and Mr. Mackles." "And the pictures of every time she attacked you?" "Yeah." The teen mumbled. "And any photos of her and that Dream kid?" "A few. Why?" "Don't worry your pretty little head princess."

That conversation was about two weeks ago. Y/n should have never told her father. She was too meek to hit back, too timid, like a sheep. "Hey mutton chops!" Y/n flinched at the name, hurrying to shut her locker and run down the hallway. "Get back here sheep girl!" The timid teen yelped as her hair was yanked back. She landed on her side, wincing as she was immediately kicked in the stomach. "Stay the fuck away from Wilbur, bitch." A sickening snap filled the ram hybrid teen's ears followed by sudden gasps. The cheerleader had snapped one of her horns. "Maybe you'll learn your lesson, bitch." The teen flinched as the group left, a few girls looking back at her, mouthing apologies. The girl's hands shook as she called her father. "What princess? I'm busy-" "I need you to pick me up." "Kid-" "She broke my horn dad. I don't even know where it is, I think she took it with her." "Bathroom now, lock yourself in there and wait." The teen could hear her father rushing to get to his car. "Make sure she didn't snap your horn at the base, if she did, check for bleeding. Try and stop it, if you're bleeding. I'm on my way right now." "Okay." Schlatt's heart broke, hearing the teen's shaking soft voice. He grinded his teeth together as he listened to the girl make her way to the bathroom. "It's not bleeding, broken at the spot where that crack was." "Good, I'll be there soon kiddo." He hung up on his daughter and called his neighbor and friend. "Schlatt? Aren't you supposed to be-" "Working? Yes. Look I need you to pick up Tubbo when you pick up Tommy." "Why do I-" "Y/n got jumped at school, they broke her horn, Phil." The ram hissed. "I'll get him. Make sure she's alright for me. Who did it?" "Your son's bitch of a girlfriend." "Techno has a girlfriend?" "Wilbur, you dumbass." "Will broke up with his girlfriend a few days ago mate." Schlatt's blood was boiling at this point as he drove. "Good, she was bullying my kiddo. Anyways, I gotta go." With that he hung up, then called an emergency line and told them to meet him at the school, being the mayor has it perks.

Back with Y/n, Sally had decided to go for a matching set. "Oh wool bag!" Y/n winced, her back meeting the wall behind her as the stall door was kicked open. "Look at the pathetic little bitch." The girl cackled at the shaking teen. "Come here!" She yanked her up by her other horn. Within seconds, Schlatt's words danced in her ears. The ones where he and her younger brother were helping her.

"Dad, why do I feel sad? Should I give him away or feel this bad?" The teen asked as her father pressed an ice pack to her shoulder. "No no no, don't you choke, go for the throat." He was not going to let his daughter give up her chance with Wilbur. He wanted his princess to be happy.

Y/n was quick to wrap an arm around Sally's, and brought it down then tripping the girl making it to where Y/n was over her. The ram teen went apeshit on the girl, remembering the lessons with her father, practically smashing the girl's face in. Shrieks filled the room as the girl got her horn free and started hitting harder, all of her bottled up anger being released on the girl below her.

"That's enough!" She was yanked back by a blue uniform. "Miss Schlatt, this way." Her bag was picked up as she was lead out the bathroom and down the hall. Upon entering the office, she rushed to her father. He pulled his daughter to him shushing the sobbing teen. He knew Y/n was a very delicate kid, but he did notice the bruised knuckles, mentally praising his daughter. "Excuse me but she attacked our daughter!" Schlatt put his hand up to silence Sally's mother. "Check your daughter's backpack, and tell me what you see." The woman huffed, rolling her eyes before opening the coral chevron bag. She screamed, dropping the bag, a ram horn rolling out and across the floor. "Your daughter attacked mine first. Look at those photos." Schlatt gestured to the laptop on the counter of the office.

Hours later, Sally was arrested.

Schlatt lead his daughter out the office, ignoring the two Minecraft boys who were staring at him and Y/n. He carefully helped her into the car before driving.

"I'm proud of you princess. Not really the throat, but it works." "I'm sorry dad." He raised a brow at her. "How so?" "I risked your position as mayor." "Kiddo, I'm still a lawyer, you really wanna argue with me right now?" He reached over and brushed a lock of h/c away from the girl's face. "Look at me." Y/n looked at her father. "I'm proud of you kid. So fucking proud." He smiled at her. "Now, what do you want to eat? You need a reward dinner. Also, I'll be getting you a prosthetic horn for that one until it grows back again." "Thanks dad." "Not a problem, just don't start fights alright?" "Only finish them." "That's my girl!"

The girl sat on her bed, messing with the prosthetic horn, when a knock made her jump. "C-Come in!" Wibur pushed the door open, a small bouquet of f/f in his hand. "Hey." "Hi." He offered her the flowers before setting them on her desk. "Look-" Y/n started. "I'm sorry." Wilbur blurted out. She blinked a few times, not expecting him to apologize. "What?" "I should've been there to help you, especially after my dad texted me to go find you. I didn't think she had a problem with you." Wilbur said. The girl gave a small smile. "I forgive you Will." "Thank you N/n." A moment of silence passed before the male gestured to the fake horn. "I thought your horn was..." "Broken? It was, this is a prosthetic. My dad got it for me." Wilbur nodded. He walked over and sat beside her on the bed, gently taking her hand. "Will, I..." Y/n started. What was she going to do, tell him how she's had a crush on him since 4th grade? Would that make her look pathetic? He gave a gentle tap on her real horn to get her attention. "You know..." He started, locking eyes with her. "Between your dad and your brother, I don't know who's worse at keeping secrets." The girl's nerves go to the best of her as her face flushed red. "W-What?" "So when were you going to tell me, your best friend, that you had a huge crush on me?" He grinned. She rolled her eyes and playfully shoved him off the bed. "How dare you." He chuckled, sitting up. "Unless you're gonna confess to some hidden crush to me, I don't wanna hear you start." She shot back. "I do have one thing." "What?" He got up and tilted her head to look at him. Wilbur leaned down and kissed the girl's lips. "I did always like you." He smiled as they separated. "If this is your attempt of asking me out, it sucks. Techno could've come up with something better." "Bitch!" Y/n erupted into laughter as Wilbur laid across her bed. "I hate you." He pouted. "Love you too Will." She laughed. "Hey, Y/n?" "Hm?" "Will you be my girlfriend?" "I'll think about it. But first..." she smacked him with a pillow. "Now I'll be your girlfriend."

[hoodieofholland]

Can u write a tickling war with best-friend!tom. Maybe Haz records them and post on insta so fans start to ship them ? ❤️

A/n: added some context first, got this idea and couldn't help but write it, hope you dont mind :)

Friends to lovers au - Actor!tom x best friend!reader

Warnings: none, just fluffy stuff

Masterlist

"Have anything planned for the evening, love?"

You hear Tom calling for you, but decide to keep reading the book on your hands nonetheless, not daring to avert your gaze to his face. Keeping a stoic face, you read through the lines of your book, though you're not really paying any attention to it. You just wanted to teach your best friend a lesson.

"Y/n? You here?" He chuckles nervously, trying to ease the thick air of tension he brought to himself. You were mad at Tom since last night, when he admitted he watched a movie with a girl, his date - a movie that both of you were excited to watch.

You shouldn't be so mad at it, you thought to yourself, but you were. Tom was your best friend, and you wanted all the best things for him, but that didn't mean putting any other girl above you. Knowing that he spent a precious time - which is pretty scarse for him because of his job - with another woman, watching your favorite movie together, drove you mad.

And, obviously, it did have something to do with your little crush on him, but you'd never - ever - admit this part.

"Y/n, darling, won't you talk to me?", he sighed, taking a seat on the couch besides you. You're taking most of its space, but he doesn't mind, touching your ankle ever so softly.

"I'm not your darling, for what I recall", you say in a cold and empty voice, flipping a page on your book.

Tom sighs heavily. He knows it's not true, but he feels hurt anyways. "Well, at least you're not giving me the silence treatment", he mumbles to himself, under his breathe. You look at him through your lashes, face still down.

"I would, if I wanted to", you flip through another page, "But came to the conclusion that it's not worth my time nor energy".

Tom grimaces, knowing you were joking, but not liking your tone. "Y/n, love, I've told you I'm sorry, okay? It won't happen again".

His pleading voice touches your insides, and you squirm on your seat. Once you make the mistake of looking to his face, into those beautiful puppy brown eyes, you sigh in defeat, closing your book and putting it aside.

"It better not, Holland", you cross your arms. Tom wrinkles his nose.

"Don't call me that"

"Well, since you're in redemption, I think I might call you whatever the shit I want", you say, shrugging.

Tom opens his mouth in chock, but doesn't argument. "So, we're fine again?"

You pout, a fake deep in thoughts expression, before saying, "We'll see about that. For now, I rather be on my own company and maybe watch some of my favorite movies alone. Or maybe I should invite Haz"

Tom narrows his eyes. "Your favorite movies are my favorite movies", he says as a matter of fact.

"Yes, that's correct", you give him a victory smile and then get up from the sofa. "So, I'll be back in-"

Before you can finish your sentence or moves, a yelp scapes your throat by the surprise when Tom grabs your hips and pull you back to the sofa, your back landing on it not so softly.

"What the fu-"

"You're not gonna do it, y/n", Tom says, taking hold of your wrists and pinning both of your hands above your head. And though he was so talented on what he did for a living, you couldn't say he was playing the greatest role now, pretending to be stern and mad while hovering his body over yours. In fact, you could see his playful smirk on the corner of his thin lips. "'Cause now you're held against your will. And if you wanna watch those movies so bad, you're gonna take my company, you liking it or not".

"Unfair. You take another girl to watch what I wanted to, but I can't invite Haz, my incredibly friendly best friend?", you tease, wiggling your brows, but Tom's smile drops.

"He's not your best friend", Tom states, the grip on your wrists getting a little tighter.

"From now on, I decided that this is him".

Tom's face assumes an expression of doubt, just to fade to a smug one once again. "You're just jealous".

You arch your brows, incredulous. His breathing is so close to your face right now that you can sense your closeness, and if you're not imagining this yourself, it was very possible that the both of you touched each other's lips right now.

"Jealous of what?", you swallow thickly, eyes averting to his lips on them on. You can see his smirk growing immediately.

"Well, darling...", he emphasized, his accent thick enough to send shivers down your spine. "You're jealous of my date".

"Only on your imagination, Thomas", you split too quickly, which didn't make it any easier to swipe off that smugness on his face. If anything, it just made the whole situation worse.

"It's clear as water to me", he leans in, a wide smile plastered on his face, making his eyes wrinkle. The air seems to be stuck on your throat as he does so, and your heart scapes a beat when he gives you a sweet kiss on your cheek. "But you don't have to, sweetheart. You're the only girl I wanna around".

You know you shouldn't take this to the heart, but it's not up to you the tight feeling on your chest when you hear these words. You try yo convince yourself that he only says it as a friend, but something in his eyes, in the way he speaks those words with so much meaning slipping out of his lips, makes you imagine that wanted to share something else with you.

You sigh, feeling your walls break down. Tom was a charmer, you knew it already, but the way he spook with you, the sweetness of his words were beyond this part of his personality.

"You sound convincing", you try to say playfully, but you don't smile and stare directly into his eyes. He does the same.

"Because it's true", Tom tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, avoiding your eyes as he loses himself in his thoughts. "Yesterday, I realized that I was looking for something that I already have. Isn't it dumb?", he looks at you with a kind yet insecure smile. You give it back.

"Well, it doesn't surprise me". You heartbeat is so quick that you can bet he can listen to it, for the proximity. He's so pretty. You want to tell him that you feel like this, that you couldn't chase whatever you and Tom had, that this part of your life felt complete.

But the moment you part your lips to say so, Tom's smile widens and he releases your wrists just to take his hands to your belly. "You sure about that, love? Wanna take it back?", he says, a devilish smile playing on his face.

"Never"

"You asked for it, y/n", and then it all started. Tom started to tickle your belly, just on your weak point, where he knew you were more sensitive at. You quickly loose your air, gasping and laughing at the same time as he works his fingers on your skin.

"Oh, my God, Tom, stop!", you yell, rolling to the sides as you try to kick him away from you. Tom laughs' fill the air around you, and it's the most beautiful sound of your day.

"Make me, darling"

You fight with all your strength (and part of you believe he left his body loosen a bit, so you could have any chance to turn the game over). Finally, you're able to throw your body towards his and have him laying on the couch instead, your body over his as you tickle his neck, holding him im place by lacing his lower half with your legs.

"Not so funny, uh?" You tease, watching as his body squirms under you. You laugh along him, but it's not much time until he starts to tickle you back.

"What the hell you guys doing? Can hear you from across the-" Haz enters the living room, stopping in his tracks as soon as he catches the sight of his two friends in a tickling war. He chuckles silently, amused by the way you looked like a lovely couple already.

He knew about Tom's crush on you, and even though you'd never verbalize it, he had an idea about yours too. He sigh contentedly, a peaceful smile on his face, leaning against the door frame. The two of you don't even notice the moment he grabs his phone and point the camera at you, recording the scene.

Tom suddenly flip the two of you, propping himself on his elbows over you. "Say you're sorry", he demands out loud, still managing to tickle you.

"I- I have nothing- to be sorry abou-" you can't even speak an entire sentence, out of breath as you fight to win the battle. "You the one in redemption!"

Haz has to hold back his laughter. What two love birds.

He stops the filming when the two of you seem tired enough and are about to give up the tickling war. Making his way back discreetly, he opens his Instagram app and post the video as a Stories.

After the fight, reconciliation

Laughing to himself, he shakes his head and post.

Haz didn't know it by the time he posted the video, but by the end of that day, the internet would be overwhelmed with so many messages shipping you and Tom, who couldn't avoid the obvious fact that both of you were in love with each other anymore.