#there's like nothing about her from the books so she's more of an oc but loosely based off events that happened in the books! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

orchidyoonkook · 6 days

Text

PG | KTH

Title: PG

Pairing: Older Brother's Best Friend!Kim Taehyung x (F)!Reader

Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Touches of Fluff

Summary: You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up.

But that’s about it. Nothing more. And reality is something you’re able to keep a solid grasp on when it comes to him. You don’t let it go for the sake of acting on a one sided and unrequited feeling you know will pass… eventually.

Warnings: nicknames! a disgusting amount, language, assholes being assholes but being put in their place, brotherly love, sibling antics, tae is a swimmer and knows judo, also a Dan is--for the lack of better phrasing--a high belt level in judo. think of it like a black belt, OC cant keep it in her pants and neither can tae, mutual pining, lots of great gatsby references because I'm tyring to be that bitch (I am joking), tae has tats, OC's brother is an overprotective idiot but we love him anyway, slight physical abuse not by tae or reader or fourteen--basically someone grips an arm too harshly, some panic but no panic attack,

Explicit warnings under the cut.

Word Count: 11,521

Release Date: September 15, 2024. 12:00PM

A/N 1: The biggest most huge thank you to @violetsiren90 for being my sounding board, tech support and beta. She's a real one and y'all are sleeping on her work if you haven't alread read it. Go check her out!

A/N 2: My access to the adobe suite was aha....revoked. So! this is my first time making a banner and divider without photoshop. Therfore, the banner and the divider are a bit different than what I'm used to having XD. Tumblr is also absolutely destroying the qualty which is sooooo great. It looks wonky and blurry to me on desktop but fine on mobile so it is what it is. If i ever get adobe access again I'll probably come back and update the graphics.

Explicit Warnings: *ahem* nicknames, teasing, kissing, biting, marking (several ways), hand and finger kink (duh), voice kinklet (duhhhh), hair 'pulling' (m rec), semi public if you squint, hella foreplay, tae has a big dick, penetrative sex, oral (m+f rec), fingering, handjob?, multiple orgasms, body worship, switch like activities but mostly dominant tae, posessiveness, confessions, reader takes what she wants but so does tae, exhibitionism if you squint, slight cum play/eating, implied squirting, choking, cream pie. Pretty sure thats all of them. i never reailse how many i need to put until the list is done and wow *chuckes while blushing*

“Oi, can you fucking not? My sister’s right fucking there,” your older brother, Fourteen—nicknamed for his forever mental age—ridiculously and unneededly overprotective as always, says.

It is especially unneeded and ridiculous as he’s saying it to Tae, when all he’s doing is taking off his shirt to go for a swim in your pool. Like he’s been doing since you were tweens.

Well.

Since you were a tween and they were nearing the legal drinking age. But that’s besides the point.

Best friend to your knuckle head of an older brother, you honest to god have no idea how they became friends.

Taehyung is poetry and jazz and button up cotton shirts. Old book smell and expensive cologne, ringed fingers and whiskey, neat. The kind of vibe someone would get from being raised by a very successful lawyer for a father and a top ranking university professor of literature for a mother, while Fourteen is… your older brother.

Maybe it’s a younger sister thing to not understand how her older brother has any friends. Considering you grew up with him, know all of his weird and gross habits, have a lovely dash of sibling bullying thrown in that you two share equally, and more. Yet, by some miracle, he and Tae manage to balance one another out.

Tae—fucking somehow—makes your brother into a more presentable human being. He showers more than twice a week and wears deodorant every day now—even puts the seat down after peeing, a habit you’ve been screaming at him to stop doing since you could use the toilet. While Fourteen gives Tae a rougher edge he previously never seemed to be able to grasp, despite trying his best too.

For example, the several delicate tattoos he now has all over his body, your favourite of which is an old timey record player on the inside of his forearm. They were something he’d been wanting to do for years, but only finally bit the bullet on and did once Fourteen took him when they were twenty two.

Since then the collection’s only grown, much to your inner glee and mental dismay.

And don’t even get you started on the delicate, thin rimmed glasses he occasionally wears—golden and the perfect shape for his face—or the ear piercings that just really fucking cement the tortured poet look that makes your heart clench every. single. time. you look at him.

Similarly to what it’s doing right now, though no one ever knows due to your truly oscar worthy talent for acting completely oblivious to the beautiful shirtless man about to dive in. Call it over a decades worth of practice, and the fact that it’s also nothing you hadn’t gloriously taken in all teenagehood long.

Every time you could get it.

Which was a lot because Tae was on the high school swim team.

For four years.

And then the university swim team.

For another four.

Teenage you was a lucky bitch. Now you’re only blessed with this sight when he comes over to swim laps or attempt to drown Fourteen. Which, admittedly, was still often. But not nearly as much as back then.

The sight in question however, is curled black hair that frames eyes so warm you swear the sun’s relocated to his irises, and a jawline that makes the Statue of David’s pathetic in comparison. It’s fingers that make your mouth water from the way they flip book pages and thighs that make you think thoughts and things you never thought you would.

It’s the scribbled text: ‘To err is human; to forgive, divine’ tattooed across his ribs, and a lean torso, muscled but not outrageously so. Just enough to have you forcing yourself not to stare at the delicate lines of his abdomen every time he comes over for a swim.

Thank god for sunglasses.

“Nah, I’m sure PG can handle it, Dumbass. I’ve only been using your pool every summer for the last 15 years give or take,” Tae says with a quirked brow and a half smile directed at you.

Behind your sunnies, you heat up a touch, and internally sigh. Have you mentioned his smile yet?

Because oh yeah, his fucking smile.

Tae’s a nickname kind of person, hence why even you call your brother ‘Fourteen’. Taehyung’s called him Fourteen for so long now that calling your brother by his birth name just feels wrong.

This being said, PG is Tae’s nickname for you.

It stands for the TV rating ‘Parental Guidance’ because you’re younger by enough that when you were still under the age of 18, they—see: your brother and Tae because they’ve been joined at the hip since they met—were usually assigned babysitting duty. Very much the ‘take your sister with you’ sibling, but they never complained. Not once.

As much as you and Fourteen bully one another, you’re actually quite close when you aren’t verbally sparring—which is where his annoying overprotectiveness comes in. Even when it comes to Taehyung.

“Yeah, Dumbass,” you copy, earning a smirk from Tae as he leans down to take his shoes off. “It’s just Tae.”

“It’s not about that YN, it’s about respect. You’re my little sister, and Fuckass over here,” you brother jabs a thumb in Tae’s direction, which earns you a second hidden smirk from the Fuckass in question, “Still doesn’t know how to respect that fact even after a decade and a half apparently.”

You shrug as Fourteen finishes his point and narrows his eyes at his best friend. Tae gives him a shit eating grin that screams ‘what are you going to do about it’ and your brother gives him a two fingered salute before shaking his head and taking off his own shirt.

You take that as your cue to put your head back down because you don’t need to see that.

Currently in very comfortable linen shorts and tank, you’re sitting on a padded pool lounger, rereading The Great Gatsby for the hundredth time. It’s one of the classics that never gets old for you, has the benefit of being a shorter read—therefore perfect for the poolside—and happens to be the copy Tae’d gotten you for Christmas a couple years ago. Pure coincidence, you tell yourself. Nothing more.

With the beautiful addition of your very darkly glassed sunnies, it also makes the perfect decoy as you watch Tae over the top of the open book without risk of being caught.

You firmly follow the rule of a little looking can’t hurt.

You aren’t delusional enough to think anything would ever happen between the two of you, not for a damn second. Be it the age difference, the fact that he’s your brother's friend, or the extremely high likelihood that he sees you as nothing more than Fourteen’s annoying little sister that he can use to rile said best friend up—see: current shirt stripping debacle. It’s not the first nor the last time he’ll do something like it, and you’re pretty sure you and Tae have an unspoken agreement at this point to push as many of Fourteen’s buttons as you can together, just to see how far he’ll let it go before freaking out.

Despite the flames that rage and roar on in your heart.

Despite the green light on the dock across the way tackling your brother under the water.

You hold on. And only in these little moments of in between do you allow yourself to look. Pockets of time where a peek won’t be seen or recorded, and a moment of self indulgence keeps your sanity from trying to escape its tightly locked box.

You look and look and look until the green light is covered in fog once more, and the lid of the box seals tight.

Another day, another glorious abuse of best friend privileges, Taehyung thinks to himself as he continues his butterfly down the imaginary lanes in Fourteen’s pool.

He tries to come over at least three times a week. Four or five if he’s able, the more he’s over the higher chance he has to see you, not just Fourteen. But he’s rarely able to these days.

Though the wind appears to have shifted in his favour today. You’re sitting on the lounge chairs again, reading away in the afternoon sun.

It’s his favourite view. And it’s sweetened by the fact that you’re in the shorts he loves and reading a book he gave you. Something he’s done since before he could remember, really.

Christmases and birthdays, he’s always given you a book. Usually a classic, sometimes something else. If it caught his eye or reminded him of you, he’d grab it and save it until the next Christmas or the next birthday, whichever came first. And you’ve always loved them, so he’s never stopped.

They’re gifts that seem harmless to Fourteen, and for the most part they are. But these last few have been…different. Had deeper thought put into them. The titles, the story lines, the prose. He swears you notice it, but maybe that’s just his own wishful thinking.

And he sure as fuck can’t be doing any of that.

This cold water isn’t doing its job well enough.

Finishing his set, Tae swims over to rest before starting on his front stroke. Forearms hold him up on the edge of the pool, his chin balancing on stacked knuckles while his breath catches.

He also uses this little break as an excuse to talk to you. He only ever freely can when Fourteen isn’t around, and right now his best friend is inside grabbing drinks, towels and probably relieving himself–which, knowing Fourteen—could take anywhere from thirty seconds to thirty minutes. So he has to take advantage of every moment he gets.

“Got any new recommendations for me PG?”

Books are an easy starting point when it comes to you. Fourteen may be a graphic novel at best kind of guy, but your brain can’t seem to inhale enough books to satiate it. And just the thought makes his temples rush with heat.

He should dunk his head again.

You lower your Fitzgerald by one inch and raise an eyebrow to counter it. Just like your brother, you’re always one to give him a hard time. Make him work for every millimeter of ground conquered. And he’s pretty sure you have a smirk hiding behind the pages, though he can’t be certain due to the sunglasses hiding your eyes.

“Maybe,” you say. “What do I get in return?”

Answering that question about fifty different ways in his head, Tae decides none can be said out loud. He seriously needs to fucking reel himself in. Fourteen could return at any moment and the last thing Tae needs to have is a problem between his legs because you never make it easy for him.

But rather than listening to his very rational thoughts and very logical brain, he instead decides to say fuck it, and croons in the voice that used to fluster you as a teenager.

“What do you want in return, PG?” Hoping to soften you up, even the playing field a bit.

And it works like a charm.

Your body releases its tension on an exhale, your page is marked, book set to the side, and your legs extend and stretch before crossing at the ankle. It makes him wonder if your little girlhood crush on him still exists somewhere in the back of your mind. Probably not.

Scratch that.

Definitely not.

“What if I wanted a new nickname?” you ask.

Both his eyebrows raise in surprise. “What’s wrong with PG?”

“It makes me feel like I’m eleven,” you explain. And then hit him with a dose of his own medicine as you croon, “I’m not eleven anymore, Tae.”

No you sure as hell are not. And it kills him in a way that has him wanting to die over and over again.

He could consider it. But he doesn’t think he’ll change it, not when PG can stand for so many wonderful things. Things you would never think he’d let it when addressing you. Things that would have Fourteen trying for drowning attempt number two thousand four hundred sixty three, and succeeding.

“I’ll think about it—Fair?”

You ponder before agreeing. “Fair.”

“Now about those recommendations…” He reminds you, and that’s all it takes to get you going.

Fourteen comes out about ten minutes later, but by then, Tae has a new list of books to grab from the store, two laps under him with eight more to go, and you’re reading again—one bare leg bent at the knee he’s trying very hard to ignore when he comes up for air.

By the time he’s due for another breather, you’re talking to your brother about plans for the weekend.

“I’m going out early on Friday for Rei’s birthday, remember? And I’ll probably crash at her place after,” you say.

Fourteen is sitting on the second lounge chair across from you, most likely playing a game on his phone if Tae had to guess. But at your reminder, your brother looks up.

“Fuck that’s right. Okay so no dinner then, I’ll just grab something on my way in.”

“Sounds good. What about tonight?”

Fourteen gives it about two seconds of thought. “How about Don’s?”

Your face lights up at the suggestion. “Fuck yes! I’ve been craving their milkshakes for like a week. Hey Tae!” you call to him. “Don’s for dinner? There’s a chocolate shake with your name on it if you’re down.”

Tae pushes himself out of the water onto the pavement and doesn’t miss the sly once over you give him while Fourteen chucks a towel at his chest, covering your eyes with his other hand.

He catches the projectile before it can knock him back into the pool, and uses it to dry his hair.

“Dude! Seriously? Go find a fucking shirt or something, no one wants to see that.”

You swat your sibling’s hand away and give him a look that screams ‘grow up’ while Tae drapes the towel over her shoulders, a hand gripping at each end.

“I’m only down if Dumbass is paying,” he says, smirking at your brother.

“—What—”

“That sounds like an excellent idea,” you agree, holding out your hand in his direction.

“—Hey wait a seco—”

Tae grabs and shakes just to watch the steam flee Fourteen’s ears at the contact. He meets your eyes conspiratorially, and you both nod before rushing Fourteen.

“—You fuckers!—” is all he gets out before Tae and you are grabbing an arm and a leg each and throwing Fourteen’s fully clothed ass in the pool.

He curses the both of you out several times as he treads, drenched and dripping, up the stairs and out of the water. Tae throws him the towel.

“You’ll pay for that, Asshole,” Fourteen tells Tae, and Tae grins.

“Oh, I’m counting on it. Worth it though.”

“And you!” Fourteen says, eyes on you. “What the fuck dude? The betrayal to your darling, one and only brother hurts. I’m wounded,” he lays it on thick, walking up directly beside you.

You're a hairsbreadth too late to realize when he shakes his hair out directly over top of you and you shriek, pulling your knees up, protecting the book under your shirt and behind your legs at all costs.

“Fourteen! The book! I will kill you if you damage it!”

Fourteen chuckles. “Payback’s a bitch Little Sister.”

You sneer at him, checking your prized possession for injury. Not a scratch.

“And sopping wet is your colour, Jackass.”

“Big words for someone who can just as easily be thrown in the pool.”

You pause. Eyeing him directly.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wanna bet?”

Your brother looks at Tae with an evil plot in his eyes and you screech as they both nod once. You drop your book behind you as they yank you up by your arms and fling you into the pool, too much momentum from them and not enough resistance from you leaving you matching your darling, one and only brother.

As you come up for air, two colossal splashes ricochet from the left and right. Tae and Fourteen having both cannonballed in on either side of you. You choke on splattered water for a second before you’re attacking them with splashes, merciless in your pursuit for revenge.

“You both suck!” you half giggle half yell.

“Yet you love us anyway!” your brother falsely—correctly—claims.

You roll your eyes before trudging out, heavier and dripping with your soaked clothes.

And it's not until weekend plans are cast aside for current memories, Taehyung treating you all to dinner, and you treating everyone to milkshakes, that all is forgiven.

It turns out Rei’s dad knows the manager of the most exclusive club in the city—Youth—and managed to call in a favour. So now you, her, and your other bestie, Lea, are all on the dancefloor to celebrate her birthday.

Rei’s first request for the night besides not paying for a single drink, was to dress up in the hottest, sluttiest outfits the club's dress code would allow for.

This, for you, meant a black, square necked, low cut, and thin strapped satin slip dress that hugged you in all the right ways, matching heels adored with ankle strap bows and a sultry makeup look. Lea chose a dark blue shimmery number with a high leg split, vibrant graphic eyeliner, and wedges, while the birthday girl found the skimpiest forest green mini dress you’ve ever seen paired with heels that wrap ribbons up her legs, and a subtle dewy look on her lids.

She’s glowing, and needless to say, they both look hot and so do you.

Rei’s second request for the night was to dance until you either collapsed or threw up, whichever came first. A goal you were all making a steady descent towards as the night progressed.

That is, until your blood runs cold at the sight of your cheating ex boyfriend making his way through the crowd in a direct beeline towards you.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

You’re alone right now. Rei and Lea are taking a bathroom break.

You insisted you’d be fine for ten minutes. It was just ten minutes. What could possibly go wrong in ten minutes?

But apparently god just loves to play jokes because here you are, three shots in, not emotionally prepared enough to be near him, let alone speak to him, and by yourself in this huge crowd of strangers while he’s making very good time on his route to you.

Fuck! You do not want to deal with him right now or—fucking ever, actually.

He’d cheated on you four times that he admitted too throughout your two and a half year relationship, all while faking being blindingly happy directly to your face. He’d lied to you and hurt you and made you wonder what you did wrong for him to do that to you. It took all of your third year of university and more therapy sessions than you care to admit to realize you were never the problem, and that he was a piece of shit.

So, with quickly shrinking fifteen feet between you two, you try your best to hide from him in the crowd, only to run directly into him when you duck past a fellow club goer.

Son of a b—

“Heyyy Y/N, how’ve you been?” he says like he didn’t destroy your entire sense of self worth for a couple quick fucks.

You want to down three more shots just to be able to puke all over him. Intentionally, you haven’t seen him in years and just the reek of his stale ass cologne has you close.

“Fuck off Micah, don’t you have somewhere you need to be sticking your dick—like a garbage disposal?” You snark, doing your damndest to not let him get close. But the throng of bodies surrounding you have other ideas and you’re thrown against your least favourite person in existence.

Delusional as ever, Micah sleezes, “Doesn’t seem like you want me to leave just yet, Kitten,” and you shove him off you as hard as you can while bile rises at the horrible name you used to beg him not to call you.

You need to get off the dance floor.

Now.

Before you can, Micah grabs your arm and he pulls you back into him, hard.

Tae watches you out of the corner of his eye, wondering why in the hell you came to this club, of all the clubs out there.

The club he was at. Wearing that and truly testing the limits of his self control.

Music blasts through speakers that move the ocean on the dancefloor. Bodies sway like waves, some crashing into one another with teeth and tongues and passion, others pushing with the current, grinding and gripping and grabbing at anything they can get their hands on. The louder and faster the notes whirl over their swells, the harsher the storm rages on, people flowing in and out of the eye when needed.

He’s sitting at a booth on a dais high enough to watch you in the hurricane whilst being out of eyesight, notably with one or two faces he barely recognizes enough to most likely be your friends.

They appear to be currents. They drag you into deeper waters and you let them, helpless to their siren call. Leading you to your place amongst the sea life, and reveling in the way the melodies wash over you again and again with every song that plays.

His eyes follow you as you dance, curious if Fourteen knows you’re here before flinging the thought out of his head as quickly as it entered. You’re grown now, don’t need protection anymore. A lesson he learned the day you returned from university after graduating.

No longer his best friend's kid sister who they kept an eye on, but a woman who was and still is growing into herself beautifully. A woman who is steadfast, strong and more often than not, correct in her opinions. A woman who is well read and equally if not more so well spoken when she deigns to acknowledge his existence. A woman who knows how and when to turn all of that off in order to team up with him in a roast battle for the books against her brother.

He thinks of that day as the beginning of his downfall.

He can humbly admit that his intelligence, demeanor and education are things that have been nurtured into existence by his parents and carefully maintained by himself with practice and both mental and physical exercise. He takes care of himself, inside and out. Exercises regularly, eats well, has good hygiene. He’s level headed and patient. Respectful and responsible. Controlled and competent.

He prides himself on these things. Actively works towards keeping them maintained.

And yet.

Somehow when it comes to you, he is little more than a single brain celled idiot.

All of the things he uses to measure his self worth evaporate whenever you enter his field of vision and he becomes fucking ravenous. And all of his focus goes into controlling himself.

He’d never noticed before, never thought of you in the way he does now. How when your currents break from formation and head towards the bathrooms, their outgoing force creates a riptide that some fuckhead with a stupid haircut uses to sweep in and dance with you.

But you push him away.

He doesn’t get the memo, and the mophead tries his best to yank you out to sea again.

Magma flows through Taehyung's veins, thunder cracks in his ears and all he can think about is storming through the crowd to steal you from said fuckhead by claiming you for himself.

But he won’t.

Can’t.

All because of his darling best friend.

Fourteen doesn’t know about his feelings for you of course. And Tae rather likes being alive and in one piece, two things he most definitely would not remain should he act on any of these feelings.

You are wholly off limits, forbidden. A little too young, a little too immediately related to his best friend, a little too perfectly his fucking type. It kills him every time he can’t even look at you without Fourteen going into what he calls ‘asshole mode’.

So you remain in his very close periphery. Untouchable to the fingertips he aches to caress you with as you dangle your existence in front of him. Your wicked tongue, your delicious intelligence, your sexy fucking legs—fuck!

He has to stop thinking about you like this.

But that only makes him want you more.

It’s like the gods handcrafted you for him. Every piece, every detail of you immaculate, but he committed one to many sins in his past life, and now they’ve locked you away forever as punishment.

You float across the night sky, stuck in a golden cell. Its fourteen bars hold you hostage amongst the stars, all while he’s chained to the bottom of the ocean floor gasping for air.

But fuck the gods and fuck their gilded cages.

He’d break from his chains, swim to the surface of the sea and grow wings. Would break your prison apart with the sheer force of his wanting, then drag you down to the depths if it meant he got to keep you for himself.

He would. He really, really fucking would. If his world wouldn’t implode completely if he did.

So he keeps these thoughts to himself. Forces them down as they try their damndest to bubble over and burn him, because they will if he lets them. If any of them get outside these little moments, the ones where he allows himself to feel, he would burn and burn and burn until there was nothing left.

Therefore, Taehyung has never been more grateful that his best friend was stuck on the night shift while he watched you dance and enjoy yourself, because it granted him this sliver of time to pretend like your brother doesn’t exist.

That you are something he could let himself have, if you wanted him to.

And he’s solid in his decision to only observe, to stay inside his little moment, until fuckhead doesn’t get the message for the third time and Taehyung is out of his seat before he can think.

Because Fourteen isn't here.

And old habits die hard.

“What the hell? Let me go, Micah!” You see his eyes then, red rimmed and glazed. He definitely has more than one thing in his system as his grip on you hardens further. The more you struggle, the tighter he grasps and—ouch, ouch, ouch, yank, fuck! Ow!—it’s really starting to hurt.

“Just give me one more chance Kitten, I promise I’ll do better,” he whisper in your ear over the music, and you cringe back from how loud he is. But that doesn’t stop him from continuing, “I fucked up, I know I did. But that was years ago, and I learned my lesson. Just one more chance Kitten, just one more, and I—I promise. I promise it won’t happen again. It won’t. I really miss y–AH! What the fuck!?”

The hand on your arm releases the second Micah yelps in pain. You look down to see familiar ringed fingers around Micah’s wrist, clutching so hard they’re white knuckled and skin bruising.

A broad chest comes to rest at your back, and an arm snakes around you. Its large palm rests on your stomach and hip as it pulls you tightly against its owner.

Words covered in sharpest ice are spoken from behind you, their baritone so recognizable they have you melting back into him.

Safe.

You’re safe.

Exhale.

“Do. Not. Touch. Her.” Taehyung growls so deeply, so powerfully, you feel the rumble from behind his sternum reverberate into your body.

Micah’s focus shifts from his wrist to the man several inches taller and several years his senior still holding it. You watch as his face contorts from pained to confused and then to murderous.

“The fuck are you to tell me not to touch my girlfriend?” Micah seethes, and you stiffen because no the fuck you are not, and haven’t been for several years.

How blitzed out of his mind is he right now?

You don’t even get the chance to deny his words before Taehyung’s on Micah like fire to dried grass.

“Don’t make me laugh, Asshole. No way in hell an pig faced looking fucker like you could pull a woman like her. Now,” Tae roughly shoves Micah’s hand back to him, and it forces Micah to stumble into the people behind with the force. “Get the fuck away from My Girl before I make you My Problem. And trust me,” Tae says in a tone so dangerous, you’ve never heard him sound so terrifying in the fifteen plus years you’ve known him, “You don’t want me to make you my problem.”

And you realize, that this isn’t the Taehyung you’ve grown up with; seen through his awkward teen years and watched come into his adult life with. This isn’t jazz music and poetry Taehyung.

This Taehyung has only ever come out the handful of times you’ve ever been in trouble. The one who studied Judo with Fourteen growing up, the one who has his fourth Dan.

The one who does not play when it comes to you and your safety.

It’s enough to know that Taehyung is more than pissed off, and more than a little ready to beat the absolute shit out of Micah, if the whiskey on his breath says anything about his loosened inhibitions.

Micah seems to sense this too, and decides to back off. But not without a stupid macho expression and two middle fingers directed at both of you as he disappears into the crowd, and out of sight.

You can feel the tension radiating off Taehyung in waves, a coil so tightly wound that a gentle breeze could set him loose, so you turn around and attempt to safely unwind. His hand moves from your stomach to your lower back, and you ignore the trail of wildfire it leaves in its wake because Tae’s eyes haven’t wavered from the spot where Micah just stood.

“Don’t.” You say, loud enough for him to hear. And his flame filled irises snap to yours, burning. “He’s not worth it.”

Your words seem to bring him back somewhat because Tae sniggers. “Damn right he’s not,” then softens. “Are you okay?”

You look anywhere but at him, the reality of the last three minutes crashing down onto your head like broken glass while the both of you are still caught in the middle of the dancefloor.

The people around you seem to understand something’s happened, and you’re left mostly untouched aside from the gentle nudges of inebriated party goers whose balance isn’t the best at the moment.

Like the mellowed waves in the eye of a storm.

Taehyung seems to make sense of this at the same time you do, and lifts his free hand for you to take. Slipping your fingers into his, he leads you to an unused and out of the way emergency exit hallway somewhere in the back of the club. It’s completely empty and dark, undisturbed besides the occasional server passing by.

It’s private.

It’s safe.

You’re safe.

He lets go of your hand and looks at you again. “Now, are you okay?”

The adrenaline is wearing off, and you can feel yourself start to shake. You ignore it. Sort of.

“I’m okay,” you say. But he’s eyeing you suspiciously and rightly so, so you repeat yourself, trying to convince your own brain more than his right now.

“I’m okay, really! I’m good. I’m–” you exhale a shaky breath and he doesn’t ask before pulling you to his chest. Wrapping both his arms around you, one around your back while the other holds your head protectively to him. Your own go around his waist as you grip him back tighter.

“I’ve got you,” he says.

“I’m okay,” you say again, muffled into his black high necked shirt, taking deep breaths of his soothing, familiar scent. You do it and again, and again. Repeating the pretty lie to yourself again and again until it becomes the truth.

He doesn’t let go until you do, and you don’t let go until you’ve finally stopped shaking.

You look up into his eyes, and all signs of his previous wrath are gone. It seems the hug didn’t ground just you, it grounded him too. Got him out of the headspace that would’ve been required for action first, words later. But now the sun is back, it shines down on you, and you bask in its warmth.

“I’m good now. Thank you,” you say in an even and unwavering voice, because you are. The panic and immense relief having washed over you, and you’re once again simply, pleasantly buzzed.

Though you do have a new problem in the form of the warmth pooling low from the feeling of both his hands still on your lower back.

You’re trying to convince yourself it’s his way of keeping you safe.

But the lock on your box has the key inside it, and it’s just begging for you to turn it.

“Good,” he replies, still not letting go. And it’s chipping away at your sanity. “Who was that guy? I only caught the last bit of his pathetic ramblings.”

You wince. Due to a lovely combination of not being very active on social media, not being much of a picture taker, and the newly dyed hair Micah seemed to be sporting tonight, you’re not surprised Tae didn’t recognize him.

“Ah. Uhm…That was...Micah,” you admit, unable to meet his eyes again. That’s when you notice his outfit tonight is all black.

Oh you are so fucked.

“As in Micah, Micah?” Tae asks neutrally, familiar with what your ex had done, just not what he looked like.

“...Yeah...”

“I see.”

“Yeah...” You say again. Because what else could you say?

Tae cracks a smile. “Should’ve let me kick his ass. The balls on him not only to approach you, but to call you his—” he cuts himself off, biting the inside of his cheek before continuing in a hushed, caring tone. “After everything he’s done to you, you should’ve let me, PG. Consequences be damned.”

Your cheeks flame at the nickname so close to your ears. So tenderly said. And you honestly can’t tell if you still hate it in this moment, or if it’s only adding kindling to the fire his hands are fueling at the base of your spine.

The new name he’d called you earlier, its ignition point.

My Girl.

You swear, even in your panicked state, you’d momentarily forgotten how to breathe before inhaling far too much all at once.

Fuck, what you won’t give to hear him say it again. But you’re 98.9% sure that’s the three shots of vodka talking. Trying their best to turn the damn key. And maybe they succeed in turning it half way—hell, maybe all the way, because you look him back in the eyes and hear yourself say,

“Maybe I should’ve, but I was far too distracted by the new nickname you finally gave me to give a single fuck about anyone else.”

The moment the last word is out Taehyung stiffens beneath your touch, fingers locked on your back, and you’re very pretty sure you just fucked absolutely everything up.

Years of good behaviour, of keeping yourself in check. Of pockets of time and side long glances and knowing nothing would ever happen, stolen from you. By your own big, fat, adrenaline depleted, vodka loosened mouth.

You're a second away from damage control before his grip shifts from your lower back to your hips.

Higher. Tighter. Controlling. Oh fuck.

He leans down to murmur, “Liked the new name, did you?” in your ear.

Shivers shoot from your crown to your core and down to your toes. Having his deep, deliciously inviting voice so fucking close to your pulse point has you millimeters away from drowning in it. You know he can feel it course through you, just like you can hear the smile it makes him display away from your eyesight as he does.

“You did then,” he responds for you, a cat toying with its meal as he lifts his head once more to look into your eyes.

You don’t need a mirror to know the state of your pupils. Your gaze is glazed over in the sinful kind of way.

“I did,” you needlessly confirm, looking up into similarly blown out ones.

The fingers twined behind him release, and make their way around to his abdomen. They pause to splay for just a second at the defined ridges, before slowly crawling up his chest and meeting again at the nape of his neck.

They play with the soft hair there, gently scratching their nails at the skin beneath where it grows and you watch as your ministrations cause his eyes to roll back, flutter shut, and his head to meet the wall behind him. A barely audible moan escapes the confines of his lips before he swallows, the divine bob of his adams apple as he tries to regain his composure is the dawn of your undoing.

“Fuck, PG that isn’t fair,” he groans towards the ceiling, his hands on your waist clamping down harder, pulling you so close your bodies touch in more places they definitely shouldn’t be. The contact has you reeling and all you want is more, more, more of it.

More of him.

“PG isn’t the name you called me earlier,” you hum, yanking on a single loose strand and Tae sucks in a steep breath, biting the corner of his smirking lip with a canine.

You want to hear him say it again. Badly. So you release the sensual grip you have on his nape, and let his head lul slowly back down to where it was, his deepening amber wholly fixated on your now entirely onyx. Your heart is begging for release from your chest, and for a moment you wonder if he can see your pulse thrumming in your eyes, because you sure as hell can feel it.

“No, it’s not. But it also hasn’t meant to me what it means to you for quite some time now,” his voice like honey, thick and dripping its way over your body. It’s making you dizzy and weighty with want. It has your mouth opening slightly as he leans closer still, knocking his nose gently with your own. Inhaling in your exhales. Teasing you. Making you work for it.

“And what does it mean to you?” you ask, barely above a whisper, irises never straying from his as your bottom lip brushes against his in one solitary, intoxicating moment that has you more buzzed in one touch than three shots has had you all night.

“Pretty Girl,” he breathes onto your lips, pushing his thigh between your legs at the same time he pulls you impossibly closer. You hear yourself moan ‘fuck’ at the contact it gives your throbbing cunt. Too focused on the need coursing through you like a live wire—your body pure water—to think about what you’re saying.

It’s a sweet sound and a violent pleasure he devours as his lips finally, finally, finally crash into yours, pinning you in place and allowing him to take every piece of you he wants. One hand slithers up your naked spine to hold you, your backless dress doing you every favour imaginable as his other continues to help you grind over his thigh.

His tongue slips into your mouth and you suck on it, causing him to jerk into you once with the rapidly growing want pressing into your lower belly. But your hands hold firm at his neck as you pull him into you, a knee lifting to meet his hip. Needing more contact.

The electricity filled pathways his fingers leave down your back, over your ass and across the bottom of your thigh to support your search for pleasure do nothing but spur on the overwhelming need to touch him everywhere.

No holds barred. No clothes worn. Nothing stopping you.

He uses his new grip to spin you around and press his hips into yours as your shoulders meet the wall. You’re left to moan sickly sweet sounds of bliss into his ear as Taehyung frees your mouth in favour of your jaw and neck, sucking gentle purple hues down the column of your throat and onto your collarbone.

“Pretty Girl,” he whispers between love bites, “My Pretty Girl.” Over and over and it has you melting so far into him, the only thing keeping you apart is fabric and a potential audience. Though from the colour you’re going to have to cover with far too much concealer tomorrow, you don’t think he quite cares about that last part.

It drives you farther into insanity. Years of want and restraint and pretty white lies you told yourself are crashing down on one another and it shows in the fervor of your touch, your wants, your pleads.

“Fuck, Tae—please. Please, I need you— please,” you beg, and the bite he leaves at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder has you gasping for air that refuses to be consumed gently.

But Taehyung is a man on a mission. One who will not be deterred, and you can’t tell if he will be your pinnacle or your inevitable end.

With what is very clearly great effort, Tae pulls himself back from your decolletage, only to kiss your lips once more. Open mouthed and dirty, tongue clinging to you like the only thing he’s concerned about is swallowing down as much of you as he can while you’ll let him, and you’ve never felt more desired in your life.

He’s hoarse as he says, “Not here. Not for the first time. Not…not here.”

“Then where,” you ask, near impatient and far too eager as you let your hands roam wherever they want. And you find your thumbs tracing the waistline of his pants, dipping a nails width below where they should. They trail over the indented V of muscle you know is hiding under his shirt. He shudders.

It makes you smile wickedly.

“Then where, Taehyung,” you murmur into his neck with that wicked smile in your words as you trace your nose along his jaw.

“Fuck, you’re something,” he says, almost pained, bringing you immense delight. To know you affect him as much as he does you. That you have him as much as he has you.

Sly hands slowly pull his shirt from his trousers in an attempt to urge him on. It works, and his response is quick.

“My place. It’s a ten minu—fuck PG,” he almost scolds as your digits toy with the hair at his navel, dipping lower—enough to feel the beginnings of something—but not low enough to discern anything.

Yet.

“Can you behave for that long?”

You smirk.

Retracting your hands, you hold them up to show you can be good, do a quick once over to make sure you're decent and spin on your heel to walk towards your booth. Tae is behind you immediately, hand placed low on your back, thumb rubbing circles on the sliver of skin it touches. You ignore the goose bumps that arise.

Rei and Lea are at your table, thankfully. You explain to them you ran into Micah and that it really shook you, so Tae’s going to take you home. They know who Tae is, so they’re not worried when they give you goodbye hugs or when they tell you to text them when you're home safe.

You promise you will, and hope that the rest of Rei’s birthday goes well.

True to his word, it’s a ten minute rideshare before you’re pulling up to a tall, black windowed apartment building.

You’ve only been to Tae’s a handful of times with your brother, mostly for things like pick ups for concerts and such, but now that you’re here—alone with him—you’re trying hard not to jump him in the fucking lobby.

The pulsing between your legs has only worsened since you removed your hands from his waistline, and you’re close to crawling out of your skin with need.

His hand stays in its place at your lower back as the elevator climbs.

It’s not helping and completely helping at the same time.

Fuck.

Tae lives on the sixteenth floor and the view is incredible. It’s the first thing you see past the island when you walk in the front door. There’s the kitchen to the left past the entrance, which turns into the living space that’s furnished in a way you can only describe as pure Tae.

Books littering every surface, warm neutral toned furniture to counterbalance the colourful artwork he keeps on the walls. There’s an old record player with a collection of vinyls in the corner and what you assume is this morning's coffee mug on the art book filled coffee table.

To the right of the living space is the bedroom. It’s a studio apartment, but Tae’s managed to keep the flow of the place beautifully with some creatively put, gorgeously decorated room dividers. And the tall floor to ceiling windows wrap around it all, showcasing the lights of the city as they blend into the stars in the night sky.

Mesmerizing.

Just like the man locking his door behind you.

A kiss is placed on the back of your neck as you slide out of your shoes at the front door. You angle your head to allow more space, letting the arm that folds around you bring you closer to him. The feel of his arousal begins to grow behind you once more and you push back against him. A faint grunt meets the shell of your ear before his hand delicately slides up from your lower stomach and past your sternum. It teases your neck for just a moment before it meets your jaw to turn your lips towards his.

He captures them in a brutal kiss, drinking you in for all you’re worth and then some as his other hand replaces the one that now holds your jaw in place. He pulls you into him but you spin in his hold, throwing your arms around his neck once more and dragging him towards the living space. He sheds his jacket in the process, uncaring of where it lands on his floor so long as you are still kissing him.

You only stop when your ass meets the top of the couch and Taehyung palms the back of your thighs to lift you, your legs wrapping themselves around his hips as you sit on its edge.

He growls at the contact and it has you raking your nails down his neck and over his shirt as you open for him once more, tongues clashing and teeth scraping at the desperate nature you both share. You yank his shirt up and he breaks from your embrace for only the amount of time it takes for the fabric to hit the floor before he’s back on you, adding twin bruises to the other side of your throat.

You let the strings holding up your dress fall naturally to the side, revealing your chest to him, and a low, “Fucking hell,” is murmured somewhere below your ear before a nipple is in his mouth and you’re arching into his touch, slices of need shooting straight downwards. Giving no mercy to your attempts to draw out the pleasure.

One large hand cups a breast, molding it to his wanting before he switches and you’re groaning into the air above you, begging him for more, determined to have his tongue anywhere and everywhere you can get it. He lavs at your peaked bud, roaming over the sensitive flesh, making you squirm at the sensations he’s drawing from you.

You never want it to end as he makes his way back up to your mouth, dragging his bottom lip over all of the freshly deepend skin it trails in its wake, making you hazy with the feel of him and his marks.

His delicate touch wanders the insides of your thighs and your cunt aches for it the higher it climbs. But it slides up not down, reaching around to your ass and hoisting you onto his hips.

Turning, he walks the eight paces to his bed, places a knee on the mattress for support before setting you down. His lips never leave yours he crawls over you, settling his hips over yours for mere moments, allowing you to thrust only twice before he’s removing himself completely and sinking to his knees.

The fingers you’ve spent way too much time thinking about can’t get enough of your skin as they skate down your sides, taking the dress bunched at your hips with them. You raise your hips to help him get the scrap of fabric off, leaving a delicate, black lace thong the only thing keeping any of your remaining modesty intact.

You watch as his now fully blackened gaze takes you in, jaw dropped in slight at the sight of you with your legs opened on his bed. Like you were the prize he’s been waiting years to claim, and now that you're here and that you’re his his, he can’t quite believe it.

It’s then you realize that he wants you, and has been wanting you. That your attempts to stay in reality these last couple years weren’t just harder for you, but for him as well.

It hasn’t been one sided.

He wants you.

Taehyung.

Off limits, older brother’s best friend, swim club participating, jazz and poetry loving, judo knowing, book gifting, perfect smile having, protective, Taehyung.

Wants you.

You can physically feel the gush that rushes from your core at the thought and you know Tae can see it through the lace.

“Holy fuck…you’re fucking drenched and I haven’t even properly touched you yet,” he rasps, unbelieving.

“Then touch me and find out just how much I want this,” you whisper. Begging, pleading, praying your words have their intended effect. “How much I want you, Taehyung.”

The sound that leaves his throat is a mixture of a whimper, a groan, and a guttural noise indicative of pure desperate want as he takes hold of your legs and spreads them further. Those mother fucking fingers trace from your ankles to your knees accompanied by the occasional light kiss, back up your inner thighs, and finally to the spot where you’ve been weeping for him for the better part of thirty minutes with a heaping side of ten years yearned.

He places one open mouthed kiss on the top of your clothed clit and that simple touch has you arching, lightning crackling through your veins with the pleasure it brings. Tae slides one single finger down your covered slit before pushing it under and pulling it to the side.

At the mere sight of you he’s swearing so fiercely under his breath that you involuntarily clench and he can’t fucking take it anymore.

His mouth is on you and you buck at the sensation. Yielding you no mercy, his tongue swipes from opening to clit in one long lick that has you gasping, clutching bed sheets above and below your head to keep from screaming.

“Oh my—Fuck—Tae. Ohmygodohmy—” you’re rambling. Incoherent. A mess.

He’s consuming your very being, no nerve left untouched, no reaction too minimal for his learning as he snakes his hands around your legs to haul you closer, pull you deeper into his mouth and you can’t fucking take it. You’re screaming out at the intensity he circles you with, and you can feel your impending orgasm come rushing to the surface. You’ve barely even processed it’s begun before you’re spasming so hard Tae has to remove an arm from your leg to throw around your pelvis.

His devious fucking eyes meet yours for one earth shattering moment as he slips two fingers inside and begins a secondary merciless pursuit on your already overwhelmed senses. Using the pads to press upwards in time to the motions he never ceased with his tongue, a second wave is cresting before the first has ceased and you feel yourself clamping down, legs holding him in place as the intensity of your release climaxes.

You’ve never felt a pressure so intense before, it’s like your body is a volcano and you’re erupting for the first time while someone sets off fireworks from its peak. The lava flows in waves, your hand holding his hair as you ride his face, shuddering at the vibrations his moan into your cunt leaves on the most sensitive parts of your body.

Gentle strokes and licks calm as your pleasure begins to wane and you can breathe in more than just stuttered inhales again.

“Holy fu–” you try to get out, but your voice is hoarse, like you’ve been screaming the entire time.

And fuck, maybe you have been. You sure as hell can’t remember or think of anything more than the warm fuzzy feeling currently radiating from every single pour in your body. The damningly deliciously dizzying feeling in your head not allowing for coherent thoughts to pass. Your limbs are loose, your body wholly relaxed.

You’re…Well. You’re fucking perfect right now. If you could stay in this moment forever you would without second thought. Locked in this room with him for all time sounds like the best way to live out the rest of your days.

Until you wince as Tae blows warm breath on your core and he chuckles, then does it again.

“Hey,” you say, sounding much clearer now, “Stop that and come here.”

You slip your hand down his face and grab him by the jaw, pulling him up and over you. Tae tastes like fire and whiskey and ambrosia and you as you kiss him with abandon, near feral as you take what you want from him and he revels in it.

He’s on his elbows and a knee over you, and you use it to your full advantage to palm him over his pants and—Fuck he’s big. No wonder he was so thorough on you. This is going to hurt no matter how much prep either of you did.

He hisses at the contact and that only spurs you on, grasping firmly at his base and roving up and over the head with the heel of your palm, squeezing gently in time with his reactions.

“Christ PG, if you keep doing that I’m going to cum in my pants,” Tae laughs into your neck before rising to sit back on his heels. He gets as far as undoing his belt buckle and button before you take over, sitting up and pulling him out.

He is disastrously beautiful, just like the rest of him, and your mouth waters at just the idea of him in your mouth.

Licking your lips, you hear him curse quite colourfully as you take the tip into your mouth and swish your tongue over the head. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Tae raises one hand to his eyes and the other behind him to hold him up as you take him deeper, shaking from restraining himself so hard, murmuring to himself, “Oh fuck. Fuck me, can’t believe—so fucking good, pretty—perfect—ohmygod,” and you seal the motherfucking deal by taking him into the back of your throat and looking up into his eyes at the same time.

Taehyung barks and bucks once into your throat before removing himself and throwing you down onto the bed. He looks furious in the way that gets your heart racing, your cunt thrumming and your breathing so fast your chest feels like it might shatter from the crosscurrents.

He grabs each of your hands and raises them above your head, sliding his fingers up your wrists and between your own, holding them in place on his pillow.

Leaning down, he uses his lowest timber to speak darkly into your ear, teasing your swollen clit with the tip of his cock. Sliding back and forth, sending bolts of white hot need through you.

“You drive me fucking insane,” he starts, thrusting, teasing, torturing. And you moan at the contact.

“You make me want to throw away a decades old friendship just for the chance to touch you.”

Thrust, tease, jolt, whine.

“And what’s worst of all is you’re the best thing I’ve ever tasted, the most beautiful I’ve ever seen, and you turn me into a complete idiot the second you enter the room. It’s like your fucking presence takes away all the working functions in my brain and leaves me with only the incurable fucking desire to make you cum until you can’t remember you own fucking name. Only mine.”

Thrust, squeeze, glide, jolt. “Tae...” you whine, delirious with pleasure, drunk on his greed and delighted by his torture.

“I call you PG because it’s the only way I can get away with calling you anything more than your name around him.” He sounds almost angry with how low he growls. “And it means so much more than you could think.”

He leans further into you, so close now that his lips brush your ear as he speaks.

“My Pretty Girl,” thrust, “My Precious Girl,” moan, “My Perfect Fucking Girl.”

He releases one hand to line himself up with your entrance. “That’s who you are to me. That’s what I’m calling you when I call you PG. My Pretty, Precious, Perfect Girl. My Girl.” He slips past your walls, sinking deep and you both groan in euphoric unison. “Mine.”

Tae pulls out, slow and controlled.

Blissful.

Then pushes back in, methodically.

Torturous.

Feeling every inch you can take, which is every single fucking one.

Inevitable.

Bottoming out for the second time, you whisper, “Yours,” into his ear, and he turns fucking ravenous.

Setting an absolutely ruthless pace, he claims your body, taking what’s so clearly always been his. Your legs wrap around him again, digging a heel into his ass as you drive him closer, harder with every push. Then lay claim to the one thing you’re able to, taking his lips with yours and biting down hard enough to draw the most sinful groan from the back of his throat. Hoarse, deep, almost broken with how raw it is.

One hand bruises its fingerprints into your hip while the other holds him up over you, and you use this to your advantage, slipping one leg around his and flipping the both of you over.

You trail your tongue down his jaw to his clavicle, he tastes of sweat and lust and sex and it is the most intoxicating thing you’ve ever consumed. Creating your own gardens of little blooming flowers down one side of his neck and up the other, Taehyung moans greedily into your ear as your ride to match his thrusts, sending him deeper while you decorate your willing canvas.

Because as much as he wishes to lay claim to your body, you want to claim his as well.

“Mine,” you say, positioning yourself to take over completely, using the springs of the mattress to do most of the work for you.

“Yes,” he says. But that’s not good enough.

“Mine,” you demand, and let loose, pressing down on the mattress with your knees rapidly, creating the glorious effect you wanted. You watch as the up force from the mattress causes Taehyung to be driven into you so quickly he throws his head back, mouth dropped in pure ecstasy.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, YN, What the fuck—” he rambles, lost to the pleasure, biting his lip, going slackjawed, clenching and unclenching his fists into bedsheets that already have your handprints seared into them.

And you keep going, a little torture creation of your own.

“Mine,” you demand again, and this time, it clicks.

“Yours! Fuck, yours. All yours, only yours,” he surrenders and you slow back down to a regular pace, breathless.

It’s a great move but it’s exerting.

You all but collapse on his chest and he takes over, thrillingly pissed off due to your power play.

“So that’s how it’s going to be?” he asks, and you clench at his tone.

He removes himself and you whimper, but he’s maneuvering you like a ragdoll on the bed and you’re more than fucking willing to be thrown around.

He’s kneeling on the bed, lifting your hips and sliding into you in a doggy style, but then he’s doing the most insane thing you think you’ve ever seen. With an arm around your stomach he brings your back to his torso and twists you both to face the open floor to ceiling windows. One of your legs is thrown over his that’s up to splay you wide for the skyline to see, and you can see your reflection in the glass.

You look beyond fucked out, and so does he, and it’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen. But then his hand is sliding to your throat, and a whispered, “Is this okay?” finds your ears. You nod.

Gripping the sides of your throat, he slides his other hand to graze your clit before beginning his own version of the move you just pulled. Pumping into you at a pace that has your g-spot screaming from all of the attention it’s receiving, his fingers swiping deftly over the bundled nerves at the apex of your thigh whilst lightly cutting off the blood supply to your brain.

It has you twitching and hazy and dizzy in seconds. You can see yourself losing to the feeling so steadily building at the base of your spine in the glass. Mouth open, body willing, the man who’s been at the center of your wanting for longer than you can remember, its deliverance.

Dark, sex tousled hair, muscled forearms holding you up and driving you insane. Blackened eyes focused on you and only you through the mirror the darkness of the night’s sky has created for you.

It’s that visual that sets you over the edge when he releases your throat, and you feel a gush flowing from where you two meet.

“Fuuuck yes. My Perfect Girl, cum all over my sheets, drench my cock. That’s it,” he purrs in your ear and it’s doing nothing but sending shock after shock into your already over sensitive and pulsing cunt, letting your consciousness float somewhere above or below you, you don’t really care.

All you know is that you feel light as a feather and not of this earthly plane.

Taehyung removes himself and lies you down gently. He’s back inside soon after and it just feels right as he fills you, like it’s where he’s meant to be.

He hovers over you once more, and you lift a single knee to his hip, mimicking your position from the club as he thrusts into you with fervor, chasing his own high after delivering three mind shattering ones to you.

Reaching one hand to his cheek, you hold him as he kisses you, working himself to completion.

Using your other to deliver a few expert circles to your clit, so you can come together, you breathe in each other's release and drown in once another’s embrace.

You leave his name on your tongue this time. A gift. A cry so delicate that a tear falls from your cheek and he kisses it away.

Taehyung inhales sharply, before stuttering his exhale and an exquisite warmth fills you.

“F-f-uu-ckkk,” he shudders as he lets the aftershocks of his release claim you in the most basic and animalistic of ways. You drink in the vulnerable sound, taking his mouth with yours one final time as you bask in each other's pleasure. Silent but for catching breaths, exertion evident as you hold one another.

Taehyung rests on your chest. Lines are sketched gently with your nails up and down his spine and into his hair as he comes down, content in the afterglow, where nothing is wrong and everything is perfect.

Before consequences kick in and regrets form.

When he decides he’s ready, Tae lifts and removes himself from you and you can feel the remnants of your combined efforts slide down to the bedsheets.

Tae takes a single finger and gathers it up before pressing it back in. You hiss at the now tender flesh. Though the pain doesn’t stop the warmth newly pooling at the sight and feel and meaning.

He pumps it back in once, twice before removing his finger and placing it in his mouth to clean off. Your cunt flutters at the sight and Tae smirks, leaning forward to share his findings with you in the form of a filthy, open mouthed, tongue filled kiss. It’s slightly salty, slightly metallic but you pull him back for one last lick when he tries to pull away.

Watching him kneeling there, in the glow of moonlight, you realize just how truly beautiful he is. The shape of his illuminated profile, the expanse of his chest as he breathes in, the colour of his skin under silver rays. He’s stunning.

You smile up at him, spent, sated and so astronomically fucked if your brother ever finds out.

Tae must see the thought on your face, because he says, “Don’t worry about him. I’ll handle it.”

But you honestly don’t give a fuck about that right now. That’s a tomorrow issue. What you want to know is, “Did you mean it?”

“Mean what, exactly?” He specifies.

You sit up, eye to eye as he sits on the edge of the bed, one leg on the ground.

“All of it. Any of it.”

There.

Now it was out in the open. And the rest is up to him.

You could drag yourself back down to reality. Chalk this night up to booze and bad timing and perfect timing. Could convince yourself it was just one night and that it would have to be enou—

“All of it,” he interrupts, the most sincere expression you’ve ever seen on him on full display. “Definitely all of it. Every last fucking word.”

You slump on your exhale, so fucking relieved you didn’t have to keep trying to lie to yourself that you could forget this happened.

You’re laughing before you can fight it off, shoulders shaking. Smiling so wide it hurts.

“Uh..YN?” Tae asks, clearly not sure how to take your reaction and you compose yourself.

“That’s PG to you,” you say as you crawl onto his lap, and kiss him into oblivion.

It’s interesting to finally sit on the dock across the way in East Egg.

The fog is gone, the sky is a brilliant blue, and the little box you kept sits open next to you, the lock and its key lost somewhere to the depths below your feet. Funny how harmless it seems now that there’s nothing locked inside anymore, like it could never really have hurt you in the first place.

You take in your newly emptied creation, and quirk a brow when you see it move.

A wiggle at first, before it’s shaking and spinning and shrinking, turning from a box into a glass windowed locket. Golden and delicate and beautiful, with a matching chain. You ponder for a moment what it could be for, before turning to look down at the green light to your right.

An idea strikes.

Unclasping the little window, you lift the opened pendant to the green light. And to your delight, the emerald hue hops into its new home, closing its tiny windowed door.

You smile at the clever little light, lacing the chain around your neck, resting it on the middle of your sternum, right above your heart. Its brilliant hue shining brightly through the pane for all to see.

Funny how the green light you so longed for, longed for you back, and is now yours for keeps.

A/N 2.5: This is what has been rotting in my brain for the better half of two weeks so please enjoy, it was supposed to be short and trope filled to cure my writers block but apparently I am incapable of short. But trope filled it clearly is. Overall tho, I'm quite pleased with this one.

A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3

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kooktrash · 1 year

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seven days to love | jeon jungkook

summary: jeon jungkook is nothing but your obnoxious new coworker who can’t seem to get the hint that you’re not interested. he’s loud, clumsy, and a bit of a player who knows his way with girls. what started off as an immediate physical attraction toward you quickly changed to a full blown crush that jungkook just can’t seem to let go. for seven days the two of you must work together alone at the store and each day jungkook takes as a chance to get you to notice him.

➣ genre/au: coworker jungkook x reader [she/her, female anatomy], co workers au, smut. himbo jk

➣ 14.2k words

warnings: smut. jk is obsessed with reader in a cute way. based off seven music video but he’s as slutty as the lyrics. he’s a gym rat who likes to read comics and talk about y/n. workplace sëx. oral [both receiving]. unprotected bc they’re literally at a record store having sex on the cash counter at the end. slapping. choking. hair pulling. switch jk. reader is insecure in relationships. jk likes to be yelled at. reader hates him but he’s all heart eyes googoo gaga. oc is mean at times but they’re lowkey v similar except Jk Is v clumsy. oc has piercings and tattoo but in a girly pop way

song inspo: seven — jeon jungkook

There was something soothing about reorganizing vinyls to your liking. You like them in a specific order that not everyone can replicate and that’s why it’s your zone. You’re the one in charge of organizing them, not anyone else, so why does Jeon Jungkook keep fucking with them?

“Jungkook!”

He practically jumped over the cashier’s counter to run to you, bumping into a rack of CDs and making a couple fall. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes when he lifted his index finger asking you to wait just one second. Your arms were crossed over your chest impatiently and you watched him pick them up from

the floor and try to reorganize them, only for a couple more to fall.

“Jungkook,” you repeated and this time around he just let them go and went to you with a smile. “Yeah?”

“Did you touch my vinyls again?” You watched as he slowly blinked, eyes shifting to the side as if Taehyung — who was watching the interaction safely in the sound booth — would help him out. Taehyung just smiled and leaned further against the window to get a better look at what he can only presume is Jungkook’s third murder this week.

“Uh, no?” He wasn’t smiling or anything but you could clearly see the way his dimples teased their way out when he looked at what you wore today. His attention drifted away and it took everything in you not to snapp your fingers and make him look back up. Instead you just took a step toward the shelf and tried to continue.

“Really?” You asked as you pointed a finger to a section, “So why is Chemtrails Over the Country Club next to Ultraviolence Deluxe when their releases are seven years apart?”

“Um,” Jungkook scratched the back of his head, “Don’t you color code them?”

“No,” you released a small sigh as you grabbed the vinyl and put it in its rightful spot between Blue Banisters and Norman F****** Rockwell, “I do it by release date.”

“But wouldn’t it be more—“ Jungkook stopped his train of thought when he paid attention to the small twitch in your eye, “You know what, my bad Y/n, I just wanted to make it easier for you but I get it. I wouldn’t want you fucking up my comic book order.”

“Glad, we have a mutual understanding then,” You said with a tight smile, “Don’t touch my vinyls.”

“Got it,” Jungkook smiled, “Hey, so later Taehyung and I are gonna go get some drinks after work, would you like to y’know co—“

“No.”

“That’s cool! Yeah, uh, it was probably gonna be boring!” Jungkook yelled after you as you left him, “Not even worth your time, I get it! I mean, we can do something else if you’re intereste—“

“I’m not,” you said as you dragged a cart full of boxes toward the backroom, “Thanks for the offer though.”

Jungkook watched you leave him with a smile on his face that made him look like a complete idiot because it has become very clear to everyone else that you don’t like him.

“Wow, you’re so pathetic it’s actually funny,” Taehyung laughed as he came running down from the loft. Jungkook lifted his middle finger to him as he tucked his hair behind his ears.

“Am I ugly?” Jungkook asked.

“A little,” Jimin said with a shrug.

“Is that why Y/n doesn’t like me?” Jungkook asked, looking back at his friend.

“Y/n doesn’t like anyone, don't take it personal,” Taehyung said honestly, “But she especially doesn’t like you because you can’t take a hint.”

Jungkook released a dramatic gasp, “What do you mean?”

“Kook, you’ve been working here two weeks already and Y/n has not shown a single ounce of interest in you, give it up already,” Taehyung patted Jungkook on the shoulder reassuringly. Jungkook shook his hand off, “Maybe she’s not good at picking up hints.”

“Or maybe she just doesn’t like you,” Taehyung said, beginning to walk away back to the sound booth where music played from, “Y/n doesn’t like guys who seem like players.”

“But she doesn’t even know me,” Jungkook said, “I’m not a player…”

“Kook, you’ve had zero girlfriends in the past two years yet you always have some girl hanging off of you,” Taehyung told him, heading back upstairs, “Aren’t you messing around with someone right now?”

“Um,” Jungkook scratched the back of his head dumbly, “Yeah Yu—no, uh, Sua, I think, but it’s not really working out. She’s getting a little too clingy for my liking.”

“And now you’re trying to move onto Y/n?” Taehyung asked with a chuckle, swinging the sound booth door open and taking a seat. He flipped some notches on the sound board and a new song began to play, getting broadcasted on their small radio station.

“I mean she’s hot.”

“That’s it?” Taehyung asked with furrowed brows and said, “And that’s why it’ll never work out. You’re not her type.”

Jungkook stayed at the open door until Jimin shooed him away with a flick of his hand and he left.

It’s been about two weeks since he got this job with his close friend. Jungkook had been in search of a job for weeks when he went to Taehyung venting about it. His landlord had upped the price of rent for his one bedroom apartment and told him last minute so it was very unexpected. He already had another job working part time at a fitness center but it wasn’t paying enough so he switched it up. He would like to go back to fitness training but right now he needs to save up and get his shit settled before he makes any changes.

On his first day he only worked with Taehyung and his boss, Namjoon, he didn’t meet you till about two days later and he was immediately attracted to you. You weren’t the only one at work who caught his attention but you’re the main one. The others were cute but you’re the one that gets him a little excited to come to work.

It’s because you want nothing to do with him and he wants to know why. You don’t know him and sure, maybe you can tell that he might be a player but… he’s not a bad guy. You seemed to not like him at all from the get go and it’s not fair . The only people he sees you smiling at are Namjoon and Sungha.

What does he have to do to make you notice him? When he asked Taehyung earlier if he was ugly, it was just a bitter joke. He knows he’s not ugly. He knows that he can be charming and that he can get any girl he wants if he really wanted to, so why is it that the one he is focused on right now won’t even bat an eye in his direction unless it’s to tell him off?

He’ll admit, he does like the fact that you just won’t give him the time of day at all, it’s kinda hot. The way you roll your pretty eyes at him looking annoyed even if he can always find a hint of amusement in them. When you don’t pull your gaze away from his like most girls normally would, you’re not intimidated by him. He can say the most daring verse to you and you’ll just blankly stare at him and scoff. Don’t even get him started on how he feels when you stand there looking up at him because of your height difference and try to tell him off. He knows he’s supposed to feel scolded but he always gets a little giddy on the inside.

Since when was he ever into girls who were a little mean to him?

You never considered yourself a complicated person. If anything, you always felt like an open book, someone who people could easily read and learn about. You’ve only just recently begun to learn that that’s not the case at all, that in truth you are a very difficult person to read while also being predictable. It was all a jumbled mess and no matter how hard your friends tried explaining it to you right now you were a little too drunk to understand.

“I just can’t tell what you’re thinking half the time,” Jimin slurred on his words a bit as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, squeezing you into him. You scrunch your face in disgust trying to put some distance between you as he went on, “I mean… I’ve seen you turn down like three guys in the last hour. You mean to tell me not a single one of them interested you?”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion as you looked around the club curiously, “Did a single one of them look interesting?”

Jimin didn’t say anything, taken back by your straight response and by the time he had figured out what to say, Sungha was pummeling right through him, “Oh my god, you won’t believe who I just saw!”

“Who?” Jimin asked as the two of you immediately forgot about your previous conversation.

It was a Saturday night and you were out drinking with your friends but at one point it became a small intervention between you and Jimin where he would tell you what was wrong with you. To be clear, there’s nothing wrong with you.

You haven’t been in a relationship in a while but that doesn’t mean you’ve completely shut men off. There’s been a few exceptions but you’ve learned that you are a very picky person. It’s not your fault that you know what you like and what you don’t. Sure, sometimes it might be a bit much but that’s why you choose to stay single. No real man is ever going to fit your male fantasy so why bother even going out with one?

You enjoy coming out with your friends at the end of the week to forget all the stress from work and school but that didn’t mean you had to entertain whatever bozo came offering up some short pick up line or cheap drink. You’re still trying to get Jimin to understand that.

“Jungkook!” Sungha squealed drunkenly, “I only saw him in passing but he was with some people.”

“I thought it was someone important,” you sighed, rolling your eyes, you waved her off, “Whatever, I’m gonna get another drink. Are you guys fine here?”

“Go ahead,” Jimin said, “I don’t want to lose our table.”

You left your two friends behind as you headed toward the bar at once more to get something to drink. Part of you felt a little wary now that Sungha has very enthusiastically said how she ran into Jungkook. What if you ran into him too? That would be so awkward. You already had to see him at work every day and you’re just not interested in having to deal with him outside of work too.

It’s not that you hate him, he amuses you with his weird antics but it’s just too much. You can’t tell if he follows you all around all day because he’s into you or if that is just how he usually is. He seems to be a player so this could just be how he is and he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. You’re not sure why he seems to always be at your side even when you’re very clearly annoyed by him, but he just never backs down. It’s exhausting even if you do think he’s attractive and charming.

When you got to the bar, some guy helped you cut through the crowd of loitering people and you were able to put your drink order in, taking note of the circular bar at the center of the room. It went all the way around and as you trained your eyes along the circular bar, your gaze landed on someone directly across from you on the other side of all the drinks.

So, Jungkook really is here.

You meant to look away but you found yourself taking in the sight of everyone surrounding him. He was turned away from you so all you saw was his side profile but you knew it was him either way. He was busy talking with two girls who laughed at everything he said and you’re sure he’s probably flirting his way through to their numbers. There were some guys around him who you assume are his other friends but he was entertaining the girls without any worry for his friends.

Just as you were busy studying the pretty girls he was talking to, you looked back at him, his dark eyes meeting yours and you quickly looked away. He just caught you staring, shit.

You could leave and disappear through the crowd to ignore his watching eyes but the bartender was still trying to make your drink so there was nowhere else to go. From the corner of your eye, you could see him lean down and whisper something to all the girls before he was pointing at you and you curiously look back. Jungkook bit back a smile with his teeth sunken into his bottom lip as he began walking away from them and heading around the bar.

The bartender came back and you quickly took out your card to hurry up and pay and you tapped your foot anxiously like it would speed up the process. You wanted to leave before Jungkook got to you.

Maybe you were overthinking it or overly confident but in reality maybe Jungkook won’t even come to you with any of his usual shenanigans. You’re outside of work and he could be a completely different person. Maybe at work you’re the only one he can entertain himself with and—

“I was wondering if I was gonna get to see you too,” Jungkook’s voice boomed over the loud music and you jumped in surprise as the bartender gave you your card back and receipt. You looked back at him, “What?”

Jungkook smiled sweetly at you as you finally left the bar and he went with you, “I saw Sungha earlier so I was wondering if you would be around here too.”

“Were you? You seemed kinda preoccupied with something else,” you blurred out before you could stop yourself, releasing a sigh when you saw him following you.

Not different from work at all.

“Oh? So you were watching, for a second I thought I was getting ahead of myself, usually you don’t pay any attention to me,” Jungkook said teasingly and you found yourself rolling your eyes like you normally would.

“Poor you,” you said as you looked around for Jimin and Sungha but stopped. Did you really want to bring him to them? Sungha would understand, sure she thinks it’s cute that Jungkook seems to be into you but Jimin would read too into it. He’s always looking for some sort of gossip and you bringing around Jungkook would definitely raise questions after scolding you for not paying attention to any guys.

“Why’d we stop? You want to dance?” Jungkook asked, looking as everyone seemed to dance or grind on each other. You were practically on the dance floor and he was intrigued. His hand touched your lower back as if to guide you but you whipped around to face him, so close that his breath hitched, feeling like he was just caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing.

“Your friends are probably wondering where you went,” you said, trying to hint that he should probably go already but he just smiled down at you with his bunny teeth on display.

“I told them I was gonna be with my favorite person in the world,” Jungkook said and you rolled your eyes with a huff in annoyance.

“Don’t you get tired of always joking around?” You asked suddenly, making his brows furrowed in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you always joke like that at work but you don’t have to act like this if we see each other in public. We’re not friends, I wouldn’t be mad if we didn’t acknowledge each other,” you gave him a shrug of his shoulders looking up at him.

He slowly blinked in thought, like he still didn’t understand what you meant and that made you smile. You brought a hand up to his shoulder, fixing his silver necklace as you said, “I’ll see you at work?”

“Huh?” Jungkook asked as he brought a hand up to touch yours but you moved it away. You waved, beginning to walk away, “Bye, Jungkook.”

“Bye?”

MONDAY

Taehyung stared at Jungkook unimpressed. He was finally at work again and he was filling in his dear friend on the events of the weekend. He’s just told Taehyung about how he saw you looking at him and he went to hang out with you only for you to just tell him bye. Once again, you didn’t even try.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Taehyung said as he reclined back on his spinning chair, “Y/n doesn’t like players.”

“But I wasn’t even doing any—“

“What were those girls trying to talk to you about?” Taehyung asked with a raised brow as Jungkook tried to think for a second.

Well, the girls came up to him just after he had gotten drinks for him, Jin and Yoongi and they just started randomly talking to him. They asked if he worked out a lot and it was definitely flirty but what did Jungkook do back? Okay.. he did flirt back but not because he was feeling one of the girls. That’s just how he is, he was just flirting to flirt and nothing more. How was he supposed to know you were watching?

Is this why you thought he was a player?

Oh my god, did you think he was a slut?

“Alright, so what should I do for Y/n to take me seriously?” Jungkook watched Taehyung stand up as he began to turn off his sound system and clean up his work area. Taehyung sighed in thought as he grabbed his backpack out of the closet and packed up his belongings, “Do you actually like Y/n? Because if you’re doing this because you’re bored it’s just going to ruin it for everyone at work.”

Jungkook looked taken back by the question and he had to think about this for a second. What exactly did Taehyung mean?

Yeah, he likes you. Well at first he just thought you were really hot and he still does but that’s not it. He likes that he can’t read you. At first he thought you were this cute chick he was going to work with who seemed to dress brightly sometimes and smiled sweetly when you wanted to. He thought you would have a cute personality.

Then he saw that tattoo tucked behind your ear. It was a straight line of hearts in red ink and it was cute but he did see you a bit differently after that. Especially when you came in wearing a dress one day and he found another tattoo on your back between your shoulder blades that he’s sure went all the way down your spine. He couldn’t tell what that one was but that made him more curious about you. The night of the party he found a new one. Tucked underneath the small strap of your top was a tattoo on your collarbone. It seems like maybe a quote or song lyric but it looked so good on you and he just got more and more curious.

Do you have more tattoos? What about more piercings? Your ears seem to have a good handful of piercing too and your nose is pierced too but was that all? Maybe he couldn’t see where else you might have a piercing and jeez that just drives him absolutely insane.

Your music taste makes him curious too. He realized you’re very territorial over your Lana Del Rey vinyls and some other artists too but he wants to know your favorite songs and how many concerts you’ve gone to. He wants to know if you like any of the same artists and if so should he make you a mixtape of all his favorite songs?

“I like Y/n,” Jungkook finally admitted and this time around he looked serious about it. Even Taehyung seemed to pause and stare at his friend waiting for him to crack a smile but he didn't and with a deep breath he decided to offer up an idea.

“Maybe you can show Y/n you’re serious, only be about her,” Taehyung said swinging his bag on and heading toward the door, “That means stop flirting with other girls, You probably proved to Y/n that you’re a flirt the other night so you’ll need to stop that if you want her to take you seriously. I’m not saying it’ll help but it might.”

Jungkook nodded his head in acknowledgment and Taehyung had absolutely no doubt in his mind that his friend was taking mental notes. He left his lofted sound booth and Jungkook followed him down the staircase to the main floor. The way the store was set up, it looked like a modernized warehouse.

Up on the loft was where Namjoon’s office was and where Taehyung broadcasted music in store and on the local radio. The loft overlooked the main floor where you and the others usually worked.

Jungkook was in charge of comics and manga, you were in charge of vinyls, Sungha was in charge of movies, Hoseok’s area was CDs and cassettes. You all had a specific station that made the store run smoothly and switch on and off of who did register, tonight it was your turn and you had to close with Jungkook all by yourself.

“Alright, I’m off,” Taehyung said as he got behind the counter and clocked out, “I’ll be back Sunday and Namjoon is back on Monday, Sungha and Hobi will do morning shifts but you two have to close so please, and I’m literally begging, Y/n don’t kill Jungkook. At least not till we’re back, I don’t think I can train another person after Jungkook.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes though he blushed at the reminder of when his friend trained him. He accidentally logged a bunch of things wrong during their weekly inventory and it took days to fix. You actually smiled, also remembering it, it annoyed the hell out of you back then but you realized it wasn’t entirely his fault that he didn’t know how to do it. It was just funny for Taehyung to bring it up again. Jungkook watched you smile and it made him smile too as he leaned against the counter just the way you did.

“Bye guys,” Taehyung waved goodbye as he prepared himself for a week-long trip in Daegu visiting his family and friends back home. Namjoon went on some business owner retreat where they attended boring seminars and connected with other businesses to trade and learn how to better their business not just for themselves but for the neighborhood.

“Bye,” Jungkook waved cheerily as he moved to the side to let you check some customers out.

Around this time of night there weren’t that many people coming in but there were a few. The store was open early in the morning and closed late at night every day. Namjoon’s reasoning for this? There’s a couple coffee shops around here and usually people like to come in and browse their music to pass time, you’ll especially see couples and teens in here. At night there’s bars and restaurants a few streets down and usually people come in looking to rent movies so they’re open till 11:00pm every night. Jungkook had about three more hours with you.

“So, how’d you wake up yesterday? Were you hungover at all?” Jungkook asked as the customers left and there was a small gap in time where you were the only two people in the store. You had already walked away from the counter, most likely to recover the floor such as fix displays or put things back where they go instead of just shoved wherever a customer decided to leave it. Jungkook began to copy you.

“No,” you said, turning your back to him as you moved a few CDs back where Hoseok usually has them and ignoring how Jungkook was trailing a few feet behind you acting like he was doing the same.

Jungkook nodded, not giving up even if it was clear you didn’t want to talk to him. You were already leaving the CDs to go check on your vinyls and he was going down the next aisle to act like he wasn’t just following you, “Same, I never really get hungover. I can actually hold my liquor pretty well.”

You raised your brows acting interested and just as you were about to round the corner you came face to face a black vinyl with a white sound wave on it. Arctic Monkeys’ AM album. Jungkook was hiding behind it and he peaked around the large square and smiled cheekily, “Can we listen to this?”

You wanted to say no but you didn’t really have a reason to. You just nodded your head and left to Taehyung’s sound booth again with Jungkook hot on your trail. You pointed a finger down, “Stay here in case customers come.”

“Bu—“ his words caught in his throat when you glared at him and he just nodded looking defeated as he watched you head upstairs without him acting like a clingy puppy who can’t leave you alone.

You got on the monitor and tried to search for the album so that you wouldn’t damage any of the actual vinyls. You scrolled through the songs and hit shuffle, queuing up a song that didn’t explain what you wanted to tell Jungkook but it’ll at least ring a bell in his noggin.

Jungkook smiled as you finally came back down to him and he paid close attention, unintentionally singing the exact line you wanted him to hear.

“I wanna grab both your shoulders and shake, baby, snap out of it,” Jungkook sang happily and you smiled in clear amusement as he sang to his heart’s content, completely missing the fact that you’re telling him to snap out of this little crush he seems to have on you.

He’s not your type and you’re sure you’re not his. He’s just bored.

Your smile seemed to drop just as his began to widen as the next song shuffled in began to play. The lyrics were sort of ridiculous but at the same time stupidly romantic and Jungkook immediately went into a dramatically serious mode as he sang.

“Secrets I have held in my heart,” he sang softly and you were surprised to hear what a pretty voice he had as you went back to sit behind the counter just watching him sing, “Are harder to hide than I thought.”

Jungkook wasn’t even paying that much attention as he subconsciously followed you, standing in front of the counter and playing with some of the small knick knacks for sale like miniature record player figurines and cardboard cassette models, “Maybe I just wanna be yours, I wanna be yours, I wanna be…”

His words cut off when he found you looking at him and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. His face flushed red in embarrassment when he realized you were still looking at him and like usual, you didn’t shy away by pulling your gaze from his. The night of the club was the first time you ever looked away first and he didn’t like that, he’s more used to staring into your eyes.

“I didn’t know you could sing,” you said casually like it was no big deal and at the sound of the first compliment you’ve ever given him, he accidentally knocked down the pyramid of cassette models making you both scramble to catch them all but they fell anyway. You released a deep breath with a roll of your eyes at the mess he made and Jungkook managed to hit his head on the counter when he tried picking it up, debating if he should just flatten himself against the floor and wait for it to just sink him in until he was nothing but hardwood panels—maybe then he’ll quick being a mess.

“Just a little, I just…” Jungkook shrugged, unsure of how to finish what he was saying, still embarrassed, especially when he looked up and found you smiling a little wider.

Even in his clearly hot mess of a state, he smiles too knowing that he’s made you smile an actual smile.

As if realizing you were being soft on Jungkook, you immediately straightened out your expression out of fear that he would think he’s growing on you.

He is growing on you but that’s not the point.

You don’t want to give him a sliver of hope that something will spark between you two. He’s not your type and you’re not interested in entertaining any guy at the moment. Especially not one like Jungkook who grabs everyone’s attention and can have whoever he wants.

You saw it the other night. Girls throw themselves at him so he’ll surely grow bored of pursuing someone who wants nothing to do with him.

It’s only natural.

TUESDAY

Considering the store opened 10am and closed at 11pm, it meant that there were a lot of work hours during the week to get through. Sungha and Hobi usually clocked in around 9am to get the store ready for open and by about 4pm their shift was up and you and Jungkook would clock in. Usually your schedules were a little more unorganized but since both Namjoon and Taehyung would be gone it meant that the four of you had to cover the rest and since you had morning summer classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, you had to work night time. Jungkook said he would cover the evening shift too just to be with you.

During the day he’ll just lounge around waiting to come to work and go to the gym and do some workouts or boxing. By the time he came into work he was clean and dressed to impress you but today he didn’t seem to have much luck for it.

He was running late and didn’t have time for a proper shower at home and ended up having to wash up at the gym. He got stuck wearing a black compression shirt that he had extra in his bag and a pair of gray sweats.

“Why do you kinda look like Toji from Jujutsu Kaisen?” Sungha asked as he walked in ready to clock in. He looked down at himself and how ridiculously he looked, “I was running late.”

“Yeah well you look like a slut,” Hoseok joked walking up to him and suddenly smacked Jungkook’s chest, hitting his pecs which were clearly visible through the compression shirt along with his abs. Jungkook immediately brought a hand up to his chest with a groan as the rest of you laughed, “Put your man boobs away.”

“Fuck off, I didn’t have time to run home for clothes, all of you can scatter,” Jungkook said rolling his eyes before looking at you, “Except you, Y/n.”

You scoffed with a smile, “Thanks, now stop harassing Jungkook, his body, his choice and if he wants to look like a slutty gym rat he can!”

Jungkook smiled giddily now, “Yeah! What Y/n said, if I wanna look like a slutty gym rat then I can. Hobi you’re mad I have more muscles than you and Sungha you’re mad I have bigger boobs than you.”

Sungha came tunneling toward Jungkook, “Say that again, brat! I’m your noona, show me some respect.”

“Only person I respect is Y/n,” Jungkook said as she clenched his shirt in her fists, “So stop groping me. Aren’t you two off already?”

“Let’s go Sungha,” Hoseok said with a shake of his head. You waved them goodbye and Jungkook finally got behind you to clock in. You moved to the side to give him space but he only moved closer with a childish smile, “Hi, Y/n.”

“Hello Jungkook,” you said as you left the counter. It was Jungkook’s turn on the register and you were very thankful for that. It was shipment day which meant you had to check in all the boxes delivered first then check in every item in the boxes and get them put away. Considering Jungkook messed it up last time you wanted to do it.

You left to the backroom to begin to bring boxes out and Jungkook followed you, carrying more than one to the counter. Hoseok and Sungha managed to get some done but didn’t get to finish so it was your turn.

You checked in a box of comics and began taking everything out with Jungkook’s help. A small laugh left your lips, “Look, new manga and one is Jujutsu Kaisen. Let’s see if you really do look like Toji.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes but couldn’t find it in himself to be bothered by you keeping on the running joke, his hand went to his chest still sensitive from Hobi’s slap. He’ll have to get back at him soon.

A group of customers came swarming in and the two of you had to focus on work.

By the time night rolled around and the store was ready to close, you were on your phone a lot. Jungkook tried talking to you but you would barely bat an eye in his direction and it made him a bit sad. A bunch of girls would come in giggling trying to compliment them and for the first time ever, Jungkook didn’t entertain it. He simply helped them with whatever they needed and went back to the register.

At closing time you closed up the register while he recovered the floor and the two of you were able to leave at a timely manner. Jungkook twisted his key around in his hand as he watched you lock the front door, “Where are you headed? I’ll give you a lift.”

“I’ll get the bus,” you said, standing straight and staring down the street. You were always hot and cold with him. One second you would be smiling and joking and the next you would barely acknowledge that he was even there. Yesterday you talked to him but today you didn’t pay any attention to him aside from when the other two were here. Jungkook practically ran after you, “Then I’ll walk with you, it’s late anyway.”

“It’s fine, I always leave by myself,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Here he is not leaving you alone again. Jungkook shook his head no, defying, “I want to walk with you though.”

“I don’t need you to though.”

“But,” Jungkook huffed, “But you barely paid any attention to me an—“

“Are you always this clingy?” You whipped around to ask, once again so close that Jungkook had to take a step back to keep from bumping into you.

“Yes,” Jungkook said casually, “Well no but I want to make sure you get back safely. Plus it looks like it might rain an—“

“Fine! Hurry up and take me home then,” you sighed, giving up. You forgot that the forecast said 80% chance of rain and knowing your luck you’ll be stuck in it before the bus even gets here.

Jungkook nodded enthusiastically, “Alright, come on. I’ll even give you aux.”

He drove a shiny black Mercedes and he was strangely kind enough to open your door for you, making you sigh as you got in his car. You keep telling yourself he’s just being nice or that he’s just trying to get some but every day he shows you a different side of him that you’re not used to.

Yesterday it was that he can sing.

And today it was his music taste, he was surprisingly a pop music guy who liked Charlie Puth.

“I just didn’t expect you to like that kind of music. I expected you to be more into hard rock or something,” You told him. You were already close to your apartment and you acted like you didn’t notice the way he slowed his driving down to stall your departure.

“For the gym, I do, usually Deftones, maybe a little bit of Pierce the Veil but usually I like more upbeat sounds,” Jungkook told you. He was surprisingly a lot calmer when it was just you two and he wasn’t chasing you around the store. His voice was more relaxed and he didn’t seem to be in a rush to get close to you.

You looked ahead as he slowed down a little more, “Right here is fine.”

“Okay,” Jungkook said softly, looking down at his lap in thought. How could he get you to stay a little longer?

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Jungkook cleared his throat and for a second you debated listening or not. What if he said something ridiculous like he tends to? It would ruin a good night.

“Yeah?”

“How many tattoos do you have? I’ve seen three but something tells me that’s not it,” Jungkook said curiously, “And can I see them?”

“Not all of them,” you told him, “But I have six, just small ones here and there. Not as many as you though.”

He smiled, “Yeah, I still want more.”

“Which ones are your favorite?” You found yourself asking, not leaving yet. Jungkook him in thought as he looked over the ones you could see.

“Not sure, I love them all,” he said before looking back at you, “Which one of mine do you like the most?”

Your brows furrowed in concentration but it was so dark you could barely see. Jungkook pushed on the overhead light and for some reason it made the small confines of his car feel more intimate than when they were off.

“This one,” you pressed your index finger to the flower on his arm, “What is it?”

“My birth flower, I just got it colored,” Jungkook said proudly, “And I drew it myself so I feel really special to know it’s your favorite.”

He looked over at you with a smile and sparkly eyes that had you realizing just how close the two of you had gotten. You were both leaning into each other to look at his tattoos and suddenly this didn’t feel so casual.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, moving back to u buckle your seatbelt, “Alright well I guess it’s time I get out. See you tomorrow.”

“I can pick you up!” Jungkook said as you opened the door, “Before work I mean, we go in at the same time anyway and—“

“I’m good, but thanks for the offer,” you said getting out and just before you closed the door, you bid him Goodnight.

He sat in his car waiting for you to make it into your building softly and when you got to the door you turned and waved back at him one more time. He couldn’t help but immediately get on his phone.

jungkook: my fav tattoo of urs is the one on ur back

WEDNESDAY

You must be out of your mind for being here right now. After begging you all day to come out for just one drink, you got tired of telling him no and found yourself sitting at a bar with Jungkook to your left.

“So you’re taking summer classes so you can graduate a little earlier?” Jungkook asked, playing with the wrapper of his straw. You really don’t know how you got here but now you’re being interrogated by Jungkook with 21 questions as he tried to get to know you better.

“That’s the plan but I think I’m still a little behind, what about you? Did you go to school?” You asked him casually.

Jungkook was a few years older than you. He was 25 and you were still 21 so if he went to school he was probably done by now if he got a bachelor’s or even an associate’s degree. Jungkook was quiet for a moment before he said, “I did but I dropped out. I didn’t know what I wanted to do and I didn’t have money to keep going even with financial help.”

You nodded understandingly. The only reason why you were still in school was because you got a little bit of help but you would still be going in debt because of it. You didn’t know what to do either so you chose to major in business because it was a broad enough course of study that you still had a few options. He looked over at you almost embarrassed but you just gave him a reassuring smile, “School’s not for everyone.”

“I wish a lot more people understood that,” Jungkook said, “It still stresses me out knowing majority of my friends graduated. I know Jimin and Hobi still work here and they’re older but at the same time they’re pursuing their interests differently. Hoseok teaches dance classes on the side and Jimin does vocal coaching but I’m just… y’know I’m still trying to figure things out. In the future I would like to own my own fitness center but I’ll probably have to go back to school for that or at least find other ways to be certified.”

“I’m sure Joon would help you figure out how to run a business,” you offered and it did reassure him that you seemed to understand him better. Jungkook has never really talked about this sort of stuff with a girl. Usually it’s all superficial and he’s not sure how this conversation came about but he’s surprisingly really thankful for it. You’re younger than him by four years but you just seem so much more with the way you think.

You don’t have your life figured out either but you seem to have an understanding that not everyone works the same and you don’t make him feel smaller for not having a college degree.

He really is more into you than he first thought. He’ll never deny the fact that the main reason he was after you was because he found you attractive but now that’s it’s just you two this week you’ve had no choice but to talk to him and he’s been really able to get to know you better.

“Y/n, I was thinking—“

“Jungkook?”

His body froze as his words caught and he debated for a second not turning around. The lounge bar was small and quiet so he wanted to come here to talk to you better, he didn’t expect to run into anyone he knew. Especially not Sua who stood behind him with a tight smile and raised brows. He looked to you but you looked to her and he had to turn to see her, “Sua.”

“Nice to see you out and about,” Sua said but he could hear the strain in her voice, “After two weeks of not talking I thought maybe something happened but you seem to be doing just fine.”

You looked away, figuring this has nothing to do with you and instead went on your phone as you listened in on how Jungkook would get himself out of this situation.

Just when he started growing on you, you’re reminded that he’s just a man and he’s still a player, probably trying to get in your pants before he moves on to the next. Why has he been trying so hard for three weeks if he was still going to have girls on the side? You don’t think this is a former girlfriend but she’s definitely someone he used to mess around with. He doesn’t seem like the relationship type anyway.

“Uh, yeah,” Jungkook said looking back to you but you weren’t paying attention anymore. This was awkward enough for him but if you started ignoring him again, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to handle it.

Sua has never been more than a fling. They didn’t go on dates or call each other 24/7, they only ever talked when they were looking to get drunk and possibly hook up. Even then it’s been about two weeks since he’s spoken or texted a single word to her so for her to just pop out of nowhere and remind him that he’s… well, a player [?] while you’re sitting next to him and he’s trying to get you to like him, it just doesn’t sit well with him.

Sua looked to you expectantly like you would introduce yourself to her but you’ve got no intention to do that. You don’t know her and you don’t owe her anything. She’s a complete stranger and she’s Jungkook’s problem not yours. You just looked back at her while she waited for you to crack but you weren’t at all intimidated and when she realized that she just rolled her eyes.

“Alright, well call me when you’ve had your fun,” Sua said, stomping away before Jungkook could say another word.

It went quiet between you two and the once light atmosphere became thick and heavy. He looked down, mentally cursing at himself for not being up front right now. He should’ve just told Sua it was done but he thought it was obvious when he stopped responding to her hundred texts. Also, he wasn’t sure how you would feel about him suddenly doing that.

With a deep breath he looked up at you apologetically, “I’m sorry, Y/n, I didn’t kn—“

“It’s late,” you said, checking the time. Half past 1:00am and you were ready to end it, “Let’s call it a night. I can get an Uber so you don’t have to waste your time driving me home.”

“No, Y/n, I want to take you home,” Jungkook said when in reality he wanted to stay and talk more. He might be a bit slow sometimes but right now he knows that whatever opening you were beginning to make for him immediately shut when Sua came.

In the end you let him drive you home since it was so late but you didn’t talk to him much. He tried making small conversation but you were back to barely acknowledging him and it was really getting to him. Is he back to square one?

“Y/n,” Jungkook’s voice was deeper than usual and lacked any of that weightless aura around it. Usually he was joking or energetic but right now not so much. He was in front of your building again and was watching you begin to unbuckle your seatbelt sadly, “What should I do?”

Your eyebrows scrunched together in confusion as you say in his car, “What do you mean?”

“What should I do to get you to notice me?”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, the two of you just staring at each other. What did he mean?

Jungkook leaned back against his seat as he waited for you to say something but you just stayed quiet. His eyes went from yours down to your nose ring, then your parted lips. It’s getting harder and harder for him not to look at them, they just looked so inviting even if you didn’t. He just wanted to kiss you so bad, maybe it’ll tell him if this is worth it all.

He’s always been the one to go based on physical touch. When he usually kisses someone, he’s not looking for that electric current to run through his veins but he’s looking for something that might make him want to do it again. Right now, any time he even thought about you it was unlike anything he’s felt in a long time. What if when you two kissed, he really does feel the butterflies in his stomach?

He’s not sure when this seemed to happen but he found himself just a few inches away from you. You looked down at his lips too and he wondered if you were also itching for a kiss. Deciding he wanted to test it out, he leaned the rest of the way and just before your lips touched…

“Doesn’t seem like you need me to notice you,” you said before your lips could touch and he didn’t realize his eyes had fallen shut until you said, “You have a lot of people who already do and I don’t like the idea of fighting for someone’s.”

“Y/n, that’s not what I mean—“

You slammed his car door shut and left like the two of you didn’t almost kiss.

THURSDAY

“You’re so mean.”

Your jaw dropped as you stared at the two in front of you, “How?”

“Well, it sounds like this guy has really been trying and you make him think he has a chance only to shut him down each time,” Jimin said, spinning in his desk chair as the three of you talked in his bedroom.

“That’s not true,” you argued back as you laid in his bed ranting about the past week with Jungkook.

You have to admit, he confuses you.

He’s just so… persistent but at the same time you can’t find it in yourself to consider him genuine. One second you think he is and the next you’re reminded that he’s very well sought after. That girl from last night was proof of it and if they talked just two weeks ago and Jungkook just stopped talking to her… then what happened?

He started working with you all three weeks ago and since the beginning he’s been on your ass, following you around like a puppy and annoying the shit out of you. Sure, she said it had been two weeks since he last spoke to her but that didn’t mean it was because of you. For all you knew, he had other girls satiating his needs and he just wasted his time on you at work.

You were filling in your closest friends on the past week but Jimin never seems to understand where you’re coming from. You’ve known him the longest and he knows all of your past dating experience better than anyone. You used to be the type to fall in love easily only to get your heart broken each time. After a while it got exhausting and you just stopped trying, now you’re closed off and you know it’s a problem but you can’t help it. What if you fall for another loser who just wants to play with your heart and then break it when they get bored?

You sighed, “Sungha, is that true?”

She sunk further into the beanbag she was occupying, like she wanted to hide from the question but when Jimin looked at her too, she spoke, “I mean… Jungkook really does seem like he’s trying. We all know he’s hot and has probably gotten around but he really is putting in the effort. Now I can’t say this is how he is when he’s interested in someone because I don’t know but… he seems to really mean it. Even before this week, he’s always been following you around and if he didn’t see you he would only ever stick to himself in the comics. When you’re there he’s smiling more, I don’t know. I don’t know how genuine he is but don’t act like you can’t see his effort, Y/n, it’s not fair to him.”

You scoffed as you pressed a pillow into your face, “It’s only been a week—“

“And he’s already shown more effort to get to know you in four days than any guy has in the entire relationship,” Jimin said coldly, “Doesn’t that mean anything to you? I don’t even know this guy aside from what you and Sungha have told me and even I could see that. When we went out drinking last week, I saw you two. He was right there beside you and you just shooed him away.”

“We work together, it’s awkward if I give in,” you said and even you knew it sounded like an excuse.

You were being honest though. What if you did let something happen between you? What if you opened up to him and he took you home one night, you hook up, and the next time at work he just ignores you?

“Stop making excuses and just try it,” Sungha said, “Either that or just stop making him think he has a chance by being hot one second and then cold the other.”

Jungkook sat across from his friends at a small rounded table for a late lunch. He hasn’t talked much today which was already strange considering usually he talks their ear off like it’s nobody’s business. Yoongi and Jin shared a concerned look but Jungkook didn’t even notice. He was too busy playing with his food and that was another concern of theirs.

“Everything alright? You haven’t even touched your food, that’s not normal,” Jin said, reaching out a reassuring hand to Jungkook who just rolled his eyes.

“I don’t know,” he said honestly, “I know things can’t just change in a week, it’s not enough time, but I’m running out of ideas. I’m trying and trying and every time I think Y/n will open up to me, something happens to change that. I don’t think I’ll ever get her to give me a chance.”

“But things are changing, Kook,” Yoongi said, “You said it yourself, Y/n let you take her home and you’ve been talking a lot more during work.”

“That’s because nobody else is around, not because she wants to, she’s just stuck with me for seven hours every day,” Jungkook said as he pushed his plate aside to rest his head on the table feeling absolutely defeated. Neither Yoongi nor Jin have ever met you but the amount of times Jungkook had ranted about you these past couple weeks really felt like they knew you.

You weren’t the quiet type but you weren’t the loud type either. You were somewhere in the middle and depending on the person or occasion, you’ll only show one side of yourself to them.

You like music a lot and though Jungkook’s section is comics and manga, you seem to have a small interest in those too. He always sees you browsing the books and the other day he found you reading a vintage Ironman comic.

You like to joke around a lot even if you don’t do it with Jungkook.

You seem to walk a fine line between organized and messy. Your vinyls are always clean but according to you, you always lag when it comes to cleaning your apartment.

You’re in school for business but you’re not sure what exactly you want to do with that.

You don’t care that he never finished school and you seemed to reassure him over it.

The point is, Jungkook talks about you all the time and every single time they think more and more of how similar you two are. He says you dress cute sometimes but you’ll act so cold. Other times you’ll dress in more dark colors but be the most bubbliest person that day. Just like Jungkook.

“Don’t give up, Koo,” Jin said finally, “You just need to show her that you’re serious. You need to tell Sua you’re done, don’t just ghost her and expect her to get the hint. Y/n probably still thinks you’re messing around with others. It hasn’t even been a full week yet so at least stick it out until Sunday. If by Sunday she still isn’t giving you a chance then maybe you should think about backing down.”

That night he tried to continue and be as bubbly with you as usual even if you barely gave him a response. He didn’t want to seem affected by the way that last night went when you completely blew off his kiss. It was his fault for the bad timing anyway and when he got home from work he called Sua.

He told her that he’s done and that he’s sorry for not saying it sooner but he really wants to pursue a real relationship with you. It upset her because he never wanted the same with her and it made him feel bad but he wasn’t going to back down from his word. He wanted you, nobody else, and he let every girl in his DMs and messages who he hasn’t answered in days know that too.

And by the time you closed, he slid a CD into your bag with some of his favorite songs hoping you’ll understand him better.

FRIDAY

You haven’t given in to him yet but that wasn’t the point anymore. The point for Jungkook was to show you how serious he was about you, so after work when he dropped you off in the cold rain in front of your house, he waited for you to head in like usual.

Usually, he drove home after making sure you got in safely but tonight he couldn’t seem to do that. He sat in his car trying to look at your door through the pouring rain and he just wanted to see you again. He just had seven hours with you but the store was so busy that he didn’t even have time to talk to you. You locked yourself up in Taehyung’s broadcasting room and only came out when the store was too packed for Jungkook to manage on his own.

He debated texting you and asking you to come down and see if you can talk but the debate didn’t last long before he was throwing the idea out of the window. Before he knew it he was turning his car off and running in the rain to your door, searching your last name on the list of tenants and buzzing the number to find you. It was for number seven and he was beginning to think that had a meaning.

Seven days of just you and him at work.

Seven hours working together.

And now your buzzer was number seven too.

It was becoming his favorite number.

“Hello?”

“Y/n, it’s me Jungkook,” he checked the time on his phone, heart skipping a beat, 11:57pm, “I know it’s late and you’ll probably say no but can we talk?”

You were genuinely taken back to know he was down there. He could’ve called you on his phone from his car but instead he was using the buzzer to ring your apartment door, to talk to you. You can even hear the rain in the background and you were saying, “Um okay, I’ll let you in, I’m on the third floor, number 77.”

Seven seven.

The second the door made a clicking sound as it unlocked he was swinging it up and running inside. Just as he reached the staircase, he slipped on the bottom steps, tightly holding the railing as he looked at the track of water he left. Once he caught his balance he was running up the stairs again, only slipping a couple more times before he got to your door.

“Jesus Christ, you’re soaked,” you said once you opened the door and let him in. You looked at him from head to toe, “Wait right here, I’ll get you a towel, take your shoes off.”

Jungkook nodded but he couldn’t help but fidget excitedly as he looked around. Your apartment was an extension of you through and through.

Vinyls in the corner by a record player and books.

Plants by the window, some dying and some thriving.

It was organized minus a few things that seemed out of place and it all just looked so homey.

When you came back he was too focused on the pictures hanging on the wall to notice you until you thrusted a pile of clothes in his waiting arms. You pointed down the hall, “Bathroom to your left, here’s some dry clothes, when you’re done bring your wet clothes out and I’ll toss them into the dryer.”

Jungkook nodded his head and followed orders. Your bathroom smelled like lavender and he eyed all your perfumes trying to pinpoint which scent you used the most. You always smelled so good and he can see why. He quickly got changed into an oversized t-shirt with Lana Del Rey’s face on it and a pair of sweats. The shirt seemed to be yours but he’s not sure about the pants. It didn’t matter to him, they smelled like you and like a creep he was taking in a whiff of your laundry detergent immediately remembering the scent. There was always a faint smell of it on you and it was refreshing and warm.

“Are you smelling my shirt?” You asked standing outside the bathroom. He got caught.

“Uh, yeah?” Jungkook scratched the back of his head, wet curls dropping water onto the shoulders of his shirt, “Sorry, that’s weird.”

You just rolled your eyes and asked him to follow you to where the washer and dryer were hidden behind a closet door. He set his clothes in the dryer and you started it up before walking to the kitchen.

“What were you thinking? You know it’s typhoon season and if you wanted to talk so bad why didn’t you just call in your car, or better yet talk at work?” You asked, pouring hot water into a mug and grabbing a tea bag, “Sugar?”

Even as you scolded him, you worried and he felt his cheeks heat up. You sighed, “What did you need to talk about that you felt the need to stand out in the cold rain and wait for me to answer? What if I was showering or already in bed?”

“I guess I would’ve waited,” Jungkook mumbled a thanks when you handed him the cup of tea and he took a seat on your couch. You just sighed and sat next to him, “What did you want to talk about?”

He refused to look at you and when you asked again, he answered, “Nothing in particular, I just wanted to talk.”

You looked away, “We talked at work.”

“Not enough!” Jungkook finally said looking back at you with doe eyes, “We were so busy and you didn’t really talk to me so I just… I don’t know.”

“Jungkook, it’s late,” you said calmly, “What did you really want to talk about?”

“Why is it so hard for you to believe I just genuinely want to talk to you? It doesn’t have to be about anything specific, I just wanted to see you. I know it’s late and not even I know why I got out and called for you but I couldn’t stop myself,” Jungkook said honestly, “You probably think I can’t get the hint and you’re right.”

You actually laughed at the last part he said and he went on, “I know you’re not into me but I can’t stop myself from wanting to see you and talk to you every chance I have.”

You slumped back on the couch as Jungkook hissed at the way the tea burned his tongue and you immediately jumped up, “It’s hot, you himbo.”

The name just slipped out and you went to apologize but Jungkook just looked at you with starry eyes, “You’ve never called me by a nickname other than the other day when you called me a slutty gym rat. Please keep them coming.”

You looked at him in disbelief as he looked the complete opposite of offended that it made you laugh and with a defeated sigh you asked, “What do you want to talk about?”

“Did you listen to the mixtape yet?” Jungkook asked, “Did you even see it?”

You thought about it for a moment and went to look for your bag. You pulled out the CD with the words, ‘THESE REMINDED ME OF YOU’ scribbled in red sharpie on the front. You’ve never been given a mixtape witn songs dedicated to you and when you first saw it you didn’t know what to make of it so you ended up just shoving it back in your back.

“I haven’t had a chance to listen.”

SATURDAY

Like yesterday, Saturday was just as busy. You barely got to talk but that didn’t mean you wouldn’t steal glances at each other and every time he caught you already looking at him, he would smile and wave even if you were on the loft and he was on the floor.

You still haven’t hinted at possibly wanting to go out with him but he also hasn’t asked. He’s waiting till at least Monday to do so. He’s giving it the week before he pushes for it again. He thinks it’s starting to work, you’re beginning to open up to him. Last night you showed him your collarbone more clearly and you asked him more about his tattoos too. You talked about music and movies and by the time you ran out of things to talk about it was past 3:00am and he left.

Even if he couldn’t stand around and talk to you, he would still try to make you laugh. When you would be fixing CDs, he would be in the next aisle hiding behind them until you pulled them out and found him there.

If you were at the register he was right there next to you bumping his shoulder against yours.

At close he texted you right after dropping you off home. It was the most dumbest things too but he was just giddy talking to you.

jungkook: would u rather be rich and depressed or poor and happy

you: rich and depressed obviously

jungkook: same. would u rather get eaten by a shark or by a cheetah

you: don’t want to get eaten by either :/

you: by a shark. I would probs drown before I’m fully eaten

you: also less chance of survival against a shark in water

jungkook: so u could outrun a cheetah?

you: no, I’ve got lung problems. I’m not surging in other way

jungkook: I could probably outrun a cheetah

you: alright, pack it up turbo. no u can’t.

jungkook: yeah… i cant…

you: It’s late ykno

jungkook: yeahhhhh but one more question

you: what

jungkook: have u changed ur mind about me yet?

He immediately regretted asking and not even a minute later he texted back.

jungkook: u dont have to answer that

SUNDAY

You were beginning to think you were as bad as Jungkook. Not meaning Jungkook was a bad person but because you were realizing that you might be leading him on the way he leads other girls on. This past week you’ve really gotten a chance to see how sweet he is and you did like it.

You liked that though he looked big and scary he was actually genuine and kind. He had a good personality and he never seemed to poke fun at anyone. He was clumsy and a bit slow at times but it was cute. He still annoyed you on occasion but it wasn’t as insufferable as before. It was endearing and last night when he asked if you changed your mind about him yet, you were so close to saying yes. You had changed your mind about him but you were still scared to admit that.

What if Jungkook was one of those people who preferred the chase over the conquest? What if once he realized you kind of liked him too… he would lose all interest. People are like that, you used to be like that and look where that got you.

You lost any motivation to get to know someone after all your failed relationships and in the end you only went after guys who didn’t want you because you knew they wouldn’t ask for anything serious. By the time you found out that they liked you, you would cringe and stop talking to them.

What if Jungkook is like that too?

You finally listened to his mixtape and it was very clear he thought long and hard about which songs he would burn onto the CD and that’s what had you antsy. Was he really serious?

You didn’t mean to avoid him today but it just happened and Jungkook noticed it the second he clocked in and you refused to look at him. Throughout the shift he would try and talk to you and something would suddenly come up or you would be in the back room pretending to be busy all so he wouldn’t talk to you. You confused the yell out of him and after three weeks of it and one week of getting to know you, he was fine.

He was done with your avoidance and by closing time he made it very known.

“So what’s up with you ignoring me today?” Jungkook asked as he finished counting the money in the register for close.

You didn’t respond right away as you fixed a stack of cassettes before finally saying, “What are you talking about?”

Jungkook couldn’t help but scoff as he took the cash register out so he could put it back in the safe, “You know what I’m talking about. You didn’t talk talk to me at all today.”

“We were working.”

“So? Suddenly that means you can’t even say hi to me when you clock in?” Jungkook asked and you wanted to answer but you didn’t know what to say. Instead you just watched him head to the back room to put the registers in the safe and return with a more sullen expression. You went back to fixing items in the shelves in order to not look at him. You didn’t know what you wanted right now, he did grow on you but that’s the problem.

You got to know him a lot this week but it’s only been seven days. Sure, seven consecutive days where it’s just been you two majority of the time but you still don’t know him all that well. You don’t know what he’s looking to gain with you and you know that’s really just you projecting your own insecurities and fears to think he just wants to use you but you can’t help it. Your brain isn’t wired to always think on the positive side anymore.

Jungkook kept looking over at you but he couldn’t take it anymore. You don’t owe him an explanation for not being attracted to him but he would like to know why you didn’t like him from the get go. It’s like you had made up your mind before even getting to know him and every single time after the first, you were more closed off from before. Of course he always noticed it but it didn’t start to really drive him crazy until these last seven days. You had begun to open up to him, smile at him more, share stories yet at the same time there were still moments where you seemed like you couldn’t stand him.

He was done with you ignoring him and he walked right up to you as you put a CD away in a high shelf, “Y/n, talk to me, stop ignoring me.”

You turned to face him, caught off guard at how close he’s gotten making you unintentionally took a step back but he took one forward not giving you any chance to focus on anything but him. You chuckled nervously, “Why?”

He looked very visibly upset by you but you just couldn’t stop, “Listen, I just don’t know what you want. Don’t get me wrong, I know you're interested in me or at least you act like you are but if you’re just doing this because you’re bored or—“

Your word caught in your throat as Jungkook’s hands cupped your jaw suddenly. He looked down at your lips, unsure why he moved so quickly but he couldn’t help himself. How could you think he’s just doing all this because he’s bored?

Jungkook licked his lips as he stared down at yours, “I’m crazy about you, not bored.”

You didn’t say anything, and when he began to lean down you couldn’t move. The shelf was pressed against your back and his hands were cupping your face that when he finally kissed you, you were stuck. It was short and sweet but you couldn’t kiss back, too caught off guard and it wasn’t in a bad way, you just couldn’t react right away when he pulled back nervously, “Sorry, I—I shouldn’t have done that.”

Jungkook waited for you to say something and once again he was met with silence. He was at the point of giving up and left you in between aisles to hide from the embarrassment. Maybe he pushed too far, you rejected him over and over again and he still had the nerve to kiss you. He ran his fingers through his shaggy hair, returning to the counter so he could start getting his things to leave.

He tried everything he could and he was exhausted.

“Jungkook?”

You came up to him shyly and he was struggling to not look at you. He was a bit nervous to know what you had to say. What was wrong with him? He’s always had a crazy amount of confidence and he’s never struggled this much to get a girl he likes but why can't you just think about him once? He felt ridiculous to be this hung up on someone who doesn’t want him.

When you finally stood in front of him, he couldn’t help but look down at you, a little scared that you would slap him or something. Before he could utter an apology, your hand was around his neck pulling him down into a real kiss.

It took him a second to understand what was going on but once he did, he completely melted into you, holding your chin in his hand to keep your head angled up to kiss better and another hand go down to your waist. You didn’t back away when he deepened the kiss with his tongue against yours. Your fingers played with the end of his hairs trying to reach him better but it was hard. Jungkook knew this too so he held you by the waist, backing you up toward the lower end of the high counter until it touched your back and picked you up with ease to set you down on it.

You moved your legs apart to allow him to step between them and kissed him eagerly. Jungkook couldn’t hold himself back, lips swelling as he kissed you with such fever that the room felt hot even with all the lights off minus a few dim ones. The record store was completely empty and a shelf of comics was in front of the door so it felt like a maze of art hiding you from anyone’s view. That made it all so much more exciting to know it was just you two.

Jungkook pulled back for a second and smiled when you followed after him, not wanting to break away from the kiss much to both of your surprise. He smiled cheekily, beginning to pull down the zipper of his gray sweater, “Sorry, I’m ho—I mean, it’s hot in here.”

He threw the light gray cloth somewhere to the side and immediately pulled you flush against him for another kiss. The two of you made out like that for a while, not even thinking about the fact that you were still at work.

Your hands can’t get enough of him, they run along his exposed arms and over the thin fabric of his white ribbed cotton tank top that showed off all his muscles and tattoos. You had tried so hard not to acknowledge how unbelievably attractive he was since the beginning but it was the most difficult thing you’ve ever done.

Jungkook’s hands tangled in your hair, trailing down the back of your top, middle finger softly caressing the line of your spine at your neck and further down as far as your shirt would let him, kissing you deeply.

You couldn’t help yourself from pulling on the back of his shirt until he got the hint and yanked it off, your eyes immediately traveling down his naked torso. His tattoos went down his side too and didn’t stop until his deep v-line and his stomach was taught with muscles. The compression shirt the other day didn’t do the real thing any justice and that’s that he looked so hot that day you almost folded. Why were you holding yourself back from this again?

Jungkook was unaware of your train of thought, the only thing on his mind was how to get your top off and with your help he was able to raise the shirt off and finally get a better look at you. Just under your bra was another spot of ink in the shape of a flower and vine on your ribcage. He ran his thumb over it softly as he looked up at you, lip rings caught between his teeth and you just smiled, “Birth flower.”

Now he knows why you liked his flower so much and with a breathy smile, he kissed you again, hands caressing the line of your spine once more, imagining what the tattoo on your back was and low fat down it went. He hugged you to him making you scoot to the edge of the counter and before you knew it, he was lifting your hips with ease to pull off your pants. You squealed in surprise when your hips hovered up for a moment as he got them off, never once breaking away from your lips.

Jungkook places a hand on your chest, fingers toying just under your bra, tempted to just push it up and out of his way but he worried he might be moving too fast. You didn’t hesitate in reaching behind your back to uncoil your bra and let it slide off. You never realized how deprived you were of sexual intimacy until you were here and too impatient for Jungkook to move things along. He pulls away from the kiss, running his tongue down your lower lip, trailing it along your jaw, down to your ear, and then to your neck where he sucks a bruise into the skin at the base of your ear, hands finding your breasts and feeling the weight of them.

You tugged at his jeans and Jungkook attempted to pull them down without breaking away from kissing you and to help him out, you unzipped his jeans and helped get them down his hips where he kicked them off without a care and chased after your mouth.

Now that Jungkook understood that you were just as eager as he was, he couldn’t hold himself back. He pulled you to the very edge of the counter till it seemed like you could fall off, and kissed down between your boobs to your stomach, a small ball of metal pressing against his lips when he reached your belly button. Your hand made its way into his hair, moving out of the way as he looked up to you, moving lower and lower between your legs, “Found another.”

You were reminded once more of your past conversation about tattoos and body piercings. Jungkook couldn’t but smirk at the way your gaze darkened when he punched the thin fabric of your underwear between his fingers and began to slide them off. Your lips parted in surprise, hand slipping out of his hair only for him to nuzzle his head close again until you brushed it out of his face. Jungkook came face to face with your wet heat, a smile on his face as he said, “Did I make you this wet? We haven’t even done anything.”

It was still all strange to you. Out of all the girls, he put himself through your hot and cold attitude because he wanted you. He chose you and now here you were letting him make you feel good yet being just as obnoxious as usual.

You rolled your eyes, already feeling that tinge of annoyance you used to always have with him, “Shut up.” You didn’t mean it in your usual pissed off way, but more so you didn’t want to prove him right. You could’ve been doing this all along.

Your words end in a moan when his tongue first teases a lick across your clit, his eyes were on your face as he watched you closely, repeating the motion again and again as your breasts rose and fell. Jungkook wraps his hands around your thighs, shifting them onto his shoulders and tightening his grip on them when you try to move away from the intensity of it. Your hand accidentally pulled on his hair making his whole head move with the motion yet his mouth never once moved away. His tongue lapped hungrily at your slit as he stimulated your labia with the sides. His nose bumped against your clit every now and then and when you yanked on his hair it made his eyes roll just slightly.

Jungkook has come to the conclusion that he could eat you out all night and he plans on doing that soon but right now his back is starting to hurt from being hunched over your pussy and he couldn’t take it. He pulled away with a small line of slick connecting his lips to your heart but neither of you seemed to care when his mouth was on yours.

You could feel Jungkook’s covered bulge hit against your sensitive wet cunt and he felt hard. His dick made a pretty outline in his Calvin Klein’s and you stuck a hand between your hot, naked bodies and tried sliding his boxers down.

A soft groan left Jungkook’s left at the first feel of your hand touching his hard cock. He still had a hand between your legs, middle finger teasing your entrance that when your palm rubbed against the tip of his member, he pressed it deeper until he felt the warmth of your pussy on the fingertip.

You released a soft moan as he pulled his middle finger out before thrusting it back in teasingly, he looked sleepy but you knew it was all lust in his gaze. You were no longer kissing and his eyes were on yours, his lips were parted with shaky breath when you fisted his length and began to stroke him up and down. His one finger became too when your thumb rubbed across his leaking slit before spreading the precum all of his head and gliding your hands back down to his base, repeating the motion over and over again.

Jungkook hissed in pleasure when you massaged his bells before jerking him off a bit more roughly than before, his two fingers sped up their thrusts while letting his palm rub against your clit, “We could’ve been doing this so much sooner.”

You didn’t say anything as you let his hips buck into your closed fist fucking his cock into your hand, making your legs shake with how good his fingers felt, “I’m close.”

“Mm,” Jungkook hummed pressing his forehead against yours, “I need to feel you, baby, please can I fuck you yet?”

You looked away from his eyes first and without a word guided his raw dick to your entrance and moaned when he pushed in slowly. You’re both very aware that you weren’t using a condom but in your haste to have him inside you, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“F-Fuck” You both moan when he pressed his pelvis against your spread thighs, his cock all the way in letting you adjust to the sudden stretch before moving. You swung your legs around his waist, pulling him a little closer when his hand snuck behind your waist and pulled you into him. With your arms around his neck, clinging to him, he was able to bring his other hand down to your hips and hold you in place as he began to fuck you slowly. Jungkook watches your face contort with the pleasure of having him inside you and it makes his chest swell with warmth. You looked so fucking pretty releasing quiet moans with each thrust of his cock into your tight pussy, “You’re so damn pretty, Y/n.”

You tug at his hair fucking your hips back onto his thick length, “I know.”

Your response caught him off guard and he couldn’t help but smile when you did. He leaned forward to kiss you but just before his lips could meet yours, you pulled on his hair a little harder now, hand sliding around his neck and you felt the way his cock seemed to throb inside you when he groaned in pleasure. Your hand tightened at just the right pressure points on his neck slightly, dragging him into a hungry kiss that nearly had him falling onto the counter over you.

“You’re prettier,” you finally said between kisses and you felt his fingers pinch your sides, cock angled up enough to hit that soft spot that always made your legs tremble. You felt your orgasm close and you just wanted him to get rougher, “But I need you to fuck me harder.”

“Oh fuck,” Jungkook kissed you passionately as he did as told, so unbelievably turned on by that he could only thrust his big cock into your tight little pussy like his life depended on it. He was so close but you wanted him to fuck you harder and who was he to deny the girl he’s been obsessing over the pleasure of dreaming all over his cock?

A loud moan left your lips, completely surprising you by the volume of it but your butt still stunted from the way Jungkook just spanked you, fingers digging into the soft flesh and rutting his cock just that further in, “I’m so close, Y/n:”

Your nails drag across the skin on his back, kissing along his pretty neck almost falling back again when his back arched down to fuck you, you moaned out his name, “Jungkook, oh my god, I can’t.”

Jungkook held you tighter, raising his hand and bringing it down on your ass cheek once more, “Cum for me, baby, please, fuck.”

You nodded your head, eyes squeezed shut as you finally released all the tension in your body and came around his thick length.

Jungkook released a loud groan as your pussy tightened around him, using all his strength to keep from cumming inside you. You cling to him cutely as you came down from your high and he had to pull out. He hid his face in your neck as he let go, cumming untouched all over your stomach and his but you only hummed in pleasure at the sudden feeling.

It took you both a minute to relax, cool down and think about what you just did.

You shyly looked at each other. Jungkook bit his bottom lip nervously, “Thank god there’s no cameras.”

You actually laughed, wincing a little as he helped you off the counter. He smiled, straightening out his clothes as he got dressed, “What do you say about coming back to my place? I—Is that okay, I mean? Or was this, um… um…”

“Sure, but I’m going to need something more comfortable to wear,” you said softly and he looked over at you as you held up your ruined top. He didn’t realize he ripped it when he pulled it off. His cheeks flushed red in embarrassment as he hurried to get his sweater and hand it to you, “I’ll buy you a new one.”

You zipped up his light gray jacket that fit you oversized like it did on him and covered up to your mid thigh. Jungkook couldn’t help but smile at how cute you looked, putting your pants back on.

“So we both have tomorrow off,” you said trying to clean up the mess the two of you left like you didn’t just have the best sex you’ve had in a long time — and at work no less.

Jungkook nodded. Taehyung returned today so he’ll be opening tomorrow with Hoseok and Namjoon will close with Sungha when he got back. The two of you had the day off as a thanks for covering and on Tuesday Hobi and Sungha will have off.

“There’s this new place that opened up and I really want to try, tomorrows our first day off in a while so—“

“Yes,” Jungkook cut you off before you could even ask him your question, “Obviously. Are you asking me to go with you? Well, even if you’re not, I’m going. I’m not letting you leave my bed if you don’t take me. Like a date, right? Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Well I was trying to,” you laughed as the two of you finally gathered all your things before locking up the store hoping they wouldn’t notice anything off tomorrow morning.

“Fuck, okay, ask again, please? I need to hear you say it,” Jungkook begged and he looked like a huge bunny with doe eyes.

“Whatever, do you wanna go with—“

“Yes!”

“Jungkook! Are you going to let me finish or what?” You asked with a cute roll of your eyes, following him to his car.

“Okay! Okay,” Jungkook laughed, “Try it one more time.”

You laughed and indulged him, “Will you go o—“

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Yessssssss!”

“You’re so annoying but it’s cute.”

“Oh my god, stop,” Jungkook clutched a hand to his heart as the one held onto yours, walking backwards to the car so he wouldn’t miss a second of you, “You’ve never called me cute before.”

OC MIXTAPE TO JK

FIRST NIGHT DRABBLE

DATE DRABBLE

A LITTLE THING CALLED JEALOUSY DRABBLE

JUNGKOOK’S SICK DAY DRABBLE

::.

y’all am I late for the swarm of seven fics? ik most were more smut and I loved every single one but I’m not cut out for so many smut scenes 😭 I’m a one and done but hope everyone loves this version of seven’s Jungkook, the himbo coworker ⭐️

also I included a little video of the songs jk would have on mixtape lol just for funnies. if you want to see more that he would dedicate to y/n, comment in my inbox with #ask SEVEN! JK or if you have any questions

oc is the world’s strongest soldier

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 2 @asking4-sanity @thvlover7 @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

#jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabble #jungkook au #Jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook angst #jungkook request #jungkook oneshot #jungkook one shot #seven days to love

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painted-flag · 3 months

Text

From Eden. Benjicot Blackwood

✧.* masterlist (Part two here)

✧.* pairing: benjicot blackwood x velaryon!oc

✧.* summary: caught in the brewing of war, Daenys Velaryon must forge alliances for her mother's claim to the throne. The Riverlands are paramount and she had the inexplicable luck of meeting Benjicot Blackwood.

✧.* word count: 11k.

✧.* note: this is a whopping long imagine. thank you all for the support on the preview. this is brought to you by instant ramen and my inability to focus on coursework. no beta reader as I live life on the edge (truthfully i do not have any)

A loud clap of thunder followed in succession by the flashing of lightning illuminated the library of Dragonstone. In the late hour of the wolf, Daenys found herself entombed within the walls of parchment, scanning drawn-up battle plans and strategies written by maesters who had nary seen a single battle. The feeling of ever-present stress loomed over her, creeping from the shadows that were not illuminated by scattered candles. That feeling of anxiety - pressing down harshly on her chest - had been a footnote in her life.

Daenys did not need to be a dragon dreamer, like her namesake, to see the future of her house. War was coming, that much was obvious. She knew at the age of nine that her mother’s claim would be challenged and since then her life had been spent preparing. The intensity of conflict did not matter, Daenys would be prepared regardless. So, like most nights, she had settled herself among the pages of books. Her body, worn from training all day, had relished in the feeling of sitting down in a plush chair.

The book in her lap, An Analysis of Ground Moves of the First Dornish War, had begun to kill her mood. The maestor who wrote it had no skill of explanation, nor seemed to have care for fighting in general. She cursed his weak analyses on certain moves and more outwardly she cursed the tone in which he wrote when speaking of her Targaryen ancestors - in particular the women. Daenys leaned back in her chair and repressed the urge to chuck to tome across the room. All that access to knowledge and training yet maesters still seemed to fall short.

The echoes of footsteps sounded between claps of thunder. Daenys glanced up to see her mother. Rhaenyra had her hair down in light waves. The nightclothes she wore were made from black and red fabrics and stitched in the fashion of dragon-influenced style, part of a matching set that the two women shared. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her mouth set in a line. The heir apparent sat down in the chair beside her daughter and glanced at the book in Daenys lap.

“The hour is late, yet you are out of bed?”

Daenys’ arms rested on the book, “Sleep could not come.”

“Or have you run from sleep? Increasingly so, as of late.” Her mother’s observation cut deep. It was true, for Daenys had become antsy. More and more nights were spent reading, and even more days training with the sword. Exhaustion had become her friend and respite her enemy. She felt behind, as her training had only started a few years prior - after years of requesting to learn. Any day a war could break, yet she sat about for most of her life doing nothing but sewing and other pointless tasks to be a good wife.

“Don’t you feel it, mother? That sinking feeling of... something clawing at your feet for that damned throne.” Daenys’ gaze rose to meet Rhaenyra. As her mother's only daughter by birth, they held a certain bond. The ability to understand what one another wished to say without so much as a word. A twitch of the brow, a quiver of the lip, or the tilt of their head was worth more than what any uttered words could convey. Mother and daughter, one unable to live without the other. Like bees and flowers or the moon and sun. A push and pull of exchange. Rhaenyra knew her daughter wanted to help, and it crushed her. She wanted Daenys to live without that fear - to relish in her days as a princess.

“The burden is not yours to bear alone,” Daenys spoke after a minute of silence. Rhaenyra sported a fleeting smile at her daughter's words.

“I know, but it does not pain me any less,” Rhaenyra adjusted in her seat, “Is there anything you wish to discuss about it?”

“We need the Riverlands.” There was not a moment of pause between her mother's question and the answer. “There is loyalty secured in many regions, especially the North, but the Riverlands are important. We do not have a strong enough hold there.”

Rhaenyra resisted smiling at Daenys eagerness in politics. Had she been born minutes before Jacaerys instead of afterwards, Rhaenyra would have been confident in claiming her as heir. Jacaerys, as dutiful as he could be, was still lagging in comparison to his twin regarding diplomacy.

“And how do you propose to remedy this?”

Daenys paused, reluctance flashed across her face for a moment but she pushed it down. “I have to marry.” Rhaenyra tilted her head in a questioning manner but Danys continued, “I know I have been against it, but you need a strong foothold in those lands. Many major battles in history are fought there and if our house is to remain strong, we must command as much of it as possible.”

“The Tully’s have no available members to marry.”

“We needn't rely on House Tully. There are other houses there that are sure to have available sons. House Frey, Mooton, Bracken, Mudd, Blackwood, Lothston, and many more. One that is as close to the Tully’s as possible and stocked with a good amount of soldiers.” Daenys’ gaze swept along the darkened room, the bookshelves being illuminated by a small number of candles and the raging storm outside.

“I want you to be happy-”

“My happiness is seeing you on that throne. Mother, you deserve it more than any other fat and drunk lord who lives on the continent.” The women giggled, and for a brief moment the storm outside - political and natural - ceased to exist.

“This is what you want?” Rhaenyra held her breath after she asked. Daenys nodded gently. They once again settled into a silence, their eyes focused on the flames inside the hearth. More thunderous roars from outside continued to assail Dragonstone. “I have some news, of which only a few know.”

Daenys sat up straighter, intrigued with what her mother had brought up. She marked her spot in the book and placed it on the small table beside her chair. Her body turned to see her mother more clearly.

“I am with child.” Rhaenyra’s words echoed in the room, “It was just confirmed this morning with the maester.”

“That’s good news, mother, truly.” Daenys reached out to hold Rhaenyra’s hand. They both smiled, content to last in their bubble.

“I think it's a girl. There is something about this pregnancy that feels different than all the rest.” The heir to the Iron Throne spoke softly, but loud enough to be heard above the raging storm.

“Good. We’ve been dreadfully lacking women in the family. We are outnumbered.” Daenys looked back at her book, the title of the First Dornish War embossed into the leather binding, “Visenya.”

Rhaenyra looked at her quizzically, and Daenys continued, “You should name her Visenya.”

Her mother smiled gently and nodded, “I shall take that to heart. Now,” She got out of her seat, “Get to bed, ñuha prūmia.” Rhaenyra gave Daenys a gentle kiss on her forehead before walking away and out of the library.

Daenys stayed in her seat, gazing mindlessly into the fireplace. Her heart was heavy. The prospect of marriage never worried her much. Any suitor that wished to court her quickly ran upon seeing her stepfather Daemon, who always seemed to grip Dark Sister tightly when they approached - a signal of warning. She never had to worry about ending up with a foul lord, or even end up marrying any time soon. Yet, her allegiance to her mother was stronger than any distaste for being wed. She got up and blew out some of the candles around her.

She made her way across the library, down the many winding halls of Dragonstone, and into her bedchamber. Once settled at her vanity, she put her hair in a simple braid to protect it while she slept. Turning towards her bed, she spotted her sword resting against the chest placed at its foot. She walked over and unsheathed the steel. It was not Valyrian steel, unfortunately. But, the piece was expertly crafted at the behest of Daemon. Her hand gripped the hilt and the other gently traced the centre of the blade.

Daenys swore that she would not make the task of gaining her hand easy for the Riverland lords. If her mother were to gain an ally, he would need to prove his worth. She had built up a reputation over the years. A beauty, that much is true, and the ability to charm members of the court easily, despite what some gossip about her parentage may say. However, upon being taught to fight by Daemon, she had managed to also build up a reputation for sharp wit and even sharper fighting skills.

Exhaustion had finally caught up to her, so she moved to put the sword away and crawl into bed. Once settled, Daenys fell into a world of dreams.

───── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ─────

Daenys wished, with all her heart, that she could go back in time and club herself over the head for even suggesting a search for a husband in the Riverlands. The conversation with her mother two weeks ago quickly led to plans being laid. Daenys, on the back of her dragon Suneater, and her brother Jacaerys on the back of Vermax, had arrived at Riverrun to be greeted by Lord Elmo Tully. A kind old man, with dark red hair, streaked with the white of age. Daenys did not wish for her brother to accompany her, but Rhaenyra was adamant that she have a member of the family there to make sure she was not completely alone. Rhaenyra also added that it would help Jace’s claim to the throne more if he met and treated the lords of the Riverlands.

However, the trip to the Riverlands quickly became sour. On the third day there after settling in, the petitions began. She was only a few hours in, and Daenys had already grown frightfully bored by the endless men - young and very much old - that made their case. Lord of this castle or that holdfast, it did not matter. All the men started to blend into one, with a few that managed to stand out. She sat on a raised dias in the grand hall of Riverrun, with Lord Tully to her right and Jace to her left. Occasionally, after a particularly awkward or gross petition, Jace and Daenys would glance at one another in complete awe. Daenys had underestimated the audacity of some men and now she finally understood why Rhaenyra had so many wild stories of overzealous lords making their petitions to her. At first, her stories seemed too odd to be fully real, but now in Daenys’ own few hours of experience, there was no doubt left in her.

She leaned back and stifled a yawn as the old man in front of her droned on about his experience in some battle long ago. Lord Tully saw the princess's mood and leaned forward, “Thank you, Lord Ryger, for your attendance. It appears we shall end the petitions for the day and continue on the morrow.”

Daenys resisted letting out a sigh of relief, though the look on Jace’s face showed he was just as relieved as her. Many men in the hall said their proper goodbyes, bowing to them before exiting.

“Thank you, Lord Tully. It seems that I have many people to consider.” Daenys gave him a flattering smile, hoping that it could mask her previous displays of indifference.

“That is good,” Lord Tully stood up and bowed to both her and Jace, “I shall you both at the feast tonight.”

Once gone, Daenys sat up straighter in her seat and turned her torso towards her brother, “There’s to be a feast?”

“Of course there is.” Jace smiled at the exasperated look on his sister's face. Truly, the whole time he had been rather entertained. A little bored, but ultimately found humour in his sister's expressions throughout the morning of lords' petitions.

She leaned back in her seat and slid down slightly, sighing loudly. “A whole bloody feast.” Jace began to laugh, but Daenys would have none of it. “Don’t be too quick to humour, brother. All the lords who are already married are bound to have daughters, and as the future heir to the throne, I do believe they will flock to you like flies to shit.”

“Are you saying I am the shit in your comparison?” The smile on Jace’s face faded.

“You said it, Jace, not I.” She bounced to her feet and made her way towards the exit.

Jace called out as she left, “And where are you off to?”

“To Suneater,” Daenys responded while looking over her shoulder, “Lords cannot follow me into the sky.” She walked away to the sound of her brother's light chuckles. The dress she was wearing had begun to feel heavy on her, the weight of her mission to gain a good husband to aid in any possible future challenges to her mother seemed impossible. From the men she met so far… the outcome was looking bleak. There was one man who was closer to her age, yet every detail about him escaped her. Was it Aken… perhaps Barken… Breaker? The only detail worth noting about him was the garish yellow shade he wore, the rest was all exactly like every other man before.

Daenys had changed into her riding leathers and gleefully made her way through the halls and to the courtyard. Upon exiting the castle, she glanced around the yard full of many men who were talking and sparring. The bustling laughter continued, with some lords near her choosing to greet her. Daenys pushed off many wishing to start a conversation with the excuse of going to visit her dragon. At the mere mention of her companion, the lords backed off. They are too fearful at the thought of a dragon, why do they think they are fit to marry one?

Glancing around at the fighting people while proceeding through the courtyard, she looked at a group. They were sporting red and black, and a feeling of homesickness washed over her. House Targaryen colours were familiar to her, mixed with Velaryon colours of course - for her father. The hushed voices of her uncles echoed in her mind; Bastard.

Brushing that thought away, she decided to watch the group. The men dressed in those colours were sparring. A blond struggled against the blows from a dark-haired man, his lean and built form assailing with strength.

It seemed that whenever the blond one got the upper hand, it only lasted for a short time. Daenys slowed her walking as she passed. While she was many metres away, she could still hear the words of encouragement and jest by the other men around them - dressed in the same colours of black and red. The blond man was facing her, and upon seeing the Princess, got momentarily distracted. The dark-haired man moved quickly, knocking his opponent to the ground in one fell swoop of his legs. The blond crashed to the ground and let out a string of curses, his clothes muddied.

“Is the ground comfortable, Rickard?” The dark-haired man joked. The men around would have laughed, but their eyes moved to where the blond, Rickard, had his eyes. They all seemed frightened. Daenys could tell they were all around her age and most likely had never seen a member of the Royal family, given the fact that they were frozen on the spot. Rickard got up, albeit in a clumsy manner, and tilted his head down in a subtle bow with the rest of the men following.

The dark-haired man turned and his eyes met hers. She could not gauge their colour, as she was standing a good few feet away. The grip on his sword slacked. He seemed stunned and a faint red coated his face. Daenys could not tell if it was from his training or her presence. He nodded to her and she hummed gently before nodding back to him and the other men.

While Daenys was intrigued by those men, all she wanted was a reprieve from the men around her. She turned her body and continued on her previous course, oblivious to the stares that followed. On the other side of a hill - a fair distance from the gates of Riverrun - lay Suneater and Vermax. The two were beside one another, as their personalities blended. Occasionally, the two would clash much like her and Jace, but truly acted as siblings. Daenys felt the weight on her chest that accumulated throughout the day disappear. Finally, she could be free, even just for a while.

───── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ─────

The hours had passed in mere moments. Daenys had begun her flight midday and had landed as the sun began to set, giving her just enough time to get to her chambers and have the maids prepare her for the feast. She was delighted that the courtyard was relatively empty, save for a few servants mulling about. No pesky conversations to derail her.

However, Daenys heard the sound of grunting and the beating of a sword. She turned to a corner of the yard to see the same dark-haired man still training. The others had left, but he lingered on. His back was to her, but she doubted he would even notice her if he was facing in her direction. He seemed completely enraptured in the swings of his sword, as if the world had disappeared and here he remained.

Daenys recognized this focus. She too felt that, albeit when riding her dragon. It was a feeling of belonging like there was nothing else meant for her to do. No more masking and pretending to feel like the people around her, just free to get lost in something she loved. The process of becoming a different person and getting lost in the way it makes you feel. She believed it must be a similar thing to the way he was fighting. She paused for a moment to study his form. Strong, but sly. With each stroke of the sword, images of the royal painters appeared in her mind. The art of their brush strokes mirrored that of the steel he swung. Calculated and precise, but free. Each time the steel met the straw dummy, it looked like paint hitting a canvas.

Daenys did not wish to disturb his focus, but the burning intrigue of who this man was had overpowered that wish, “I do believe he is dead.” The man stopped with a jump and swung his body around in quick succession, his eyes alert. It was only upon seeing Daenys and assessing her as no immediate threat that he let his guard down.

“Yes, princess, um… indeed.” His response made Daenys almost wish she did not disturb him. It was clear that he appeared slightly shy when not engrossed in combat. A part of her related to it.

“I apologize for my earlier interruption. It was not my intention to have distracted your friend.” Daenys stepped close and leaned against a fence that connected to the large stables. She was within just a metre or two of the man and could now finally see him more clearly. He was a pleasant sight, exceedingly so compared to the dozens of men she met that morning.

“You need not apologize, princess. It was his fault, he should have been focusing on the fight.”

“Well, I hope he is alright from the fall, Lord…” Daenys trailed off, hoping to know his name. She thought back to her morning in the hall and meeting all the lords who contended for her hand. She could not remember him. That could not be right, she would remember a man who looked like that. It seemed that he was not there in the morning, most likely to see her in the days to come.

“Benjicot Blackwood, your grace.” He nodded at her, his dark hair moved gently in the subtle breeze.

“It is nice meeting you, Lord Blackwood.” Daenys smiled at him. She felt unusual, to be taken by charm so quickly and with so few words. She searched within her brain for any knowledge regarding the family. It was an old house, with roots deep within Westeros spanning back to the first men. Kings during the Age of Heroes. She remembered reading about their ability to field an army larger than that of House Tully, yet still bent the knee to them.

“You flatter me, princess, but I am not Lord Blackwood yet. My father still presides over Raventree Hall.” Benjicot’s voice was calm, despite his appearance coming off as slightly nervous.

“I am sorry, Lord Benjicot, for the misunderstanding.”

Ben broke eye contact and gazed around the courtyard for a moment before returning to her, “We seem to be apologizing repeatedly to one another, your grace.”

“Yes, let us end that,” Daenys situated herself to sit on the fence, a rather unladylike action. She found that she could get away with that type of behaviour the further she was from the court of Kings Landing and Dragonstone. “What brings a member of House Blackwood to Riverrun at this time?”

“Well, the crown princess happens to be visiting,” Ben answered.

“I heard she is spoilt and vain.” Daenys joked.

Ben seemed to loosen up just slightly at her friendliness, “She is not so bad. Rather pleasant if you ask me.” The two stare at one another for a few moments, wondering which one would break the jest first. In a display of synchrony, they both smiled and let out a short burst of laughter.

Daenys spoke after calming down, “So I am just pleasant, my lord?”

“Yes, your grace, incredibly so.” Ben’s words sounded more sincere than expected and it caught Daenys slightly off guard.

“You are not so bad, as well, Lord Benjicot. Incredibly so.” Daenys jumped down from the fence and brushed off her hands that were resting along the wood. “I hope you are not absent from the feast tonight as you were this morning. I should like to speak to you more, my lord.”

“I will be there princess.”

The two both nodded to one another before Daenys began to walk away. As she retreated, she could not help but feel a little less stressed about the feast. Maybe the idea of being surrounded by boisterous lords, many eager to dance with her, would not be so bad if Benjicot Blackwood was there.

───── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ─────

The band was in full swing. The echoes of their instruments, playing a quick jig, bounced off the vaulted walls of the great hall. People sat at multiple long tables and ate from the vast amounts of plated food. There were others out of their seats, conversing with groups or dancing in the centre of the room. Lord Tully was at the centre of a table position in front of all the others. The Velaryon twins sat on either side of him. Jacaerys and Lord Tully were engaged in deep conversation on a topic Daenys had little care for. She stared at her plate of food. No matter how hard she tried, Daenys could not will herself to eat. The nerves of this night and having countless men stare at her made her stomach ache and turn.

A figure stood up at the table, bowing to all three of them. He was adorned in brown and a muted yellow colour, with the sigil of a red stallion on his chest. While Daenys did think it ugly, she could not say the same for his appearance. He had a slender figure, and his facial structure was pretty for a man. His brown hair reached just past his shoulders, most of it pulled into a tie at the back with some loose strands.

“Lord Tully, Prince Jacaerys, Princess Daenys,” He started, “It would be an honour to ask the princess if she should like to dance.”

“I believe my sister would love to join you,” Jace answered.

Daenys kept her head facing the man while her eyes turned to the side. Jacaerys was looking at her, an amused smile on his face. She focused back on the man and put on a pleasant smile, “It would be my pleasure.” She slowly got out of her chair, hoping for some miracle to prevent their dance. A fire set in the hall, or perhaps the gods could shake the earth and swallow her whole.

When the man took hold of her arm to escort her, Daenys turned around and mouthed to her brother: traitor. Jace just waved slightly and picked up a mug of ale. The two made their way to the dance floor and joined many others. Her hands clasped hers as they faced one another and began moving. Daenys had to concentrate on her footwork, as her dancing skills were never the greatest.

“Aeron Bracken, your grace. I am sure you remember me from this morning.”

“Ah yes, how could I forget such a memorable petition… with ah… great accomplishments.” Daenys gave him a fake smile. She hoped that response would satisfy Aeron, as she truthfully had no memory of what his petition was. The words he had said sounded the same as all the rest, so despite not remembering, she could guess that they revolved around their accomplishments and house.

“It gladens me that you have been thinking about me, your grace.”

Daenys almost scoffed. Where did she ever mention thinking about him? Why would she think of him of all men? There was a brief flash of red and black in her vision, accompanied by a blur of dark hair. Swallowing her frustration down, she continued her womanly facade.

“Yes, House Bracken is wonderful in their abilities and longstanding position in history.” The few things she knew about the house were their origins with the first men, and their proclivity to engage in petty disputes with other houses. She thought it best to not bring up the latter information. However, it did not seem that she would not have to bring it up as Aeron began to rant.

“There are some houses here that are not as fortunate or kind as mine. Some that are no good to be around, your grace.” Aeron’s face darkened slightly as his vision zeroed in on a group across the hall. Daenys turned and strained her eyes, for she was not as tall as him. Upon seeing through the crowd who he was looking at, her brows furrowed. Benjicot Blackwood stood conversing with a group of men at one of the tables.

Aeron looked away and back at the princess, “I caution you with keeping the company of Blackwoods. They can be savage and cruel.”

A flood of information swooped over her mind. A week prior to leaving for the Riverlands, she had tirelessly scanned through books on their history. She suddenly realized why both of the Houses sounded familiar. Out of the countless battles she read about, House Blackwood and Bracken were frequently are the forefront and more often than not the ones that started those conflicts.

Daenys felt an odd urge to defend Benjicot, “You do not think I did my research before coming here, Lord Aeron?”

“No, princess, that was not my intention,” He seemed to stumble over his words and his face flushed, “I just wish to protect you.”

“I do not need your protection, my lord. I do believe having a dragon does that for me.” Daenys was thankful that the song was coming to a close. They separated and both bowed to one another like all the other partners on the floor. “Your baseless attempt at character assassination is just that, baseless. Thank you for the dance, Lord Aeron, but I think I will take my company elsewhere.”

Daenys gave him one last nod and walked away. She wanted to get away from Aeron quickly. She walked in the direction of Ben and his company of men, but an old lord stepped out in front of her just as she made it to him. The lord was old and greying, his wrinkled skin sagged against his stern face. Daenys never gagged at the sight of a person before, but she found herself almost doing so.

“Princess Daenys, would you care for a dance?” His shrewd voice shattered her temporary relief.

“Oh Lord–” She began, but was swiftly interrupted.

“Lord Mooton,” Benjicot had spotted her approaching and saw the lord moving her way and quickly lept to action, “It is good to see you. I believe it was your great grandson's twentieth nameday celebration that we last saw on another. I have heard that your wife was looking for you.” Ben had his shoulders squared and towered over the old man's form. Daenys and Ben exchanged looks, resisting the urge to laugh in the lord's face at this awkward exchange.

“Oh, yes, Lord Benjicot. Apologies princess, for I must go.” The man bowed and moved away, his old form moving slowly.

“I owe you, Lord Benjicot, for saving me.” Daenys smiled at him. Her arms joined behind her back as she swayed side to side.

“You need not thank me, your grace. Though, I would appreciate it if you would do me the favour of joining me on the floor?” Ben held out his hand. While he seemed confident, Daenys could tell there was still a shy nature being hidden - it was clear in his eyes. The hand that was outstretched shook so slightly it was hard to catch, but she did. Just a few minutes ago she wanted nothing more than to stop dancing, but in this case, she did not mind it. She had just found the right partner.

Daenys took his hand in hers and the shaking ceased, “I shall.” Ben escorted her to the floor and they began to dance. She was even more nervous, as her lack of talent in dance may embarrass her in front of him. Ben did not seem to mind for he guided her gently before she could make any mistakes.

“You should have seen the look on your face when Lord Mooton spoke to you. Pure befuddlement, your grace, possible disgust as well.” Ben quickly turned her to the pace of the music.

“Do not jest of that, my lord. I felt like I would die.” Daenys retorted.

“You would die? I think it would be Lord Mooton that goes first, considering his age.”

Daenys let out a short laugh, “I do not know what I would have done if I had to suffer a dance with him.” She almost shivered at the thought of that lord's eyes scanning her body in such a predatory way.

“Do not worry about it, your grace. All it would take is a stiff breeze to knock him over and it would no longer be your problem. Perhaps I could jump out of nowhere and startle him to death for you?” The dance had Ben pulling her closer with both of their hands connected.

“I did not take you as a man quick to murder.”

“Ah, but for you, dear princess, I would not hesitate.” Ben’s words sounded incredibly sincere and he made sure to be looking right at her when he said them.

“You flatter me, my lord,” Daenys said, “I wanted to mention it earlier, but I must compliment your skills in fighting. Watching you train was engaging.”

Ben spun them around and kept pace with those around them, “I shall hold those words with me for life, your grace.”

“I also wished to ask if we could spar together.” Daenys raised her brow at him, hoping that he would like the same as well.

“I can not even think about attacking you, princess. It would be improper.”

Daenys knew he would not relent so easily, “I have been learning for a few years now, you need not worry about it.”

One of Ben’s hands reached down to her waist as they had to start walking to the right in a circle with others dancing. “Princess, the moment I even go in to swing at you, regardless of practicing, every lord in the castle would hunt me down.”

“Then we shall make sure nobody sees. After the morning petitions on the morrow, we can meet up outside the gates and find a clearing somewhere.” Daenys tried to distract herself from the way his hand felt on her waist.

“After you have been driven to frustration by all the lords? I should be worried you may take that anger out on me.” Ben spun her around again. The two of them released their grip on one another, stepping back a few paces and turning before finally coming back together again.

“With the skills I saw today, I do believe you can handle it,” Daenys said.

“I can handle that and more, princess,” Ben responded and his grip on her hand and waist tightened slightly. Daenys blushed heavily and hoped that it would not be too noticeable. She paused momentarily to figure out how to retort, but no words came to her. They settled into silence for a moment. The music died down and the dance came to a close. Daenys and Ben released their hold on each other and took a step back.

“Thank you for the dance, Lord Benjicot. You need not worry about attending the petitions tomorrow and putting forth your name. I do not need to hear your case as I already favour your company.” Daenys tried to say what she wanted to say without making it too obvious or breaking any rules of propriety. It would be unseemly for a woman to actively pursue someone, but that would not stop her from voicing her opinion.

“I favour your company as well, princess,” Ben responded, though he seemed slightly stunned. Daenys smiled at him and went back to the main dining table.

Lord Tully had left, most likely off speaking to some guests, but Jace still sat at the table. He was nursing a mug of ale in his hand and sent her a large grin.

“What have you done now, dear brother?”

“Nothing, sister, however, I must admit I did not take you as one who liked to dance.”

Daenys sat down in the seat beside him. She reached out for some of the ale and swallowed it down. “I don’t like dancing.”

“Then why did you spend five dances with the same man?” Jace asked. He gave off a tone of innocence to his question, but she could sense the subtle tease.

She paused for a moment to load some food on a plate. It was five dances? She could have sworn it was only for a minute or two. Deciding not to voice that, she continued. “Why did you care to count?”

“Because you are my sister and it is my job to watch out for you. Tell me, who is he?”

Daenys was almost reluctant to answer but knew Jace would continue to pry until he got one. “Benjicot Blackwood.”

“...So?” Jace placed his ale down and showed her his full attention.

“Pardon?”

“What do you think of him? You seem quite taken.” Jace nudged her shoulder gently.

“We met earlier in the day. He seems nice and is easy to converse with. However, the manner of me being taken by him is none of your concern.”

Jace leaned back in his seat and laughed, “Ah, okay. So it is not my concern that this whole time we have been talking, Lord Benjicot has not stopped looking at you.”

Daenys froze. Jace held his gaze to her side, where other people were, and must have been looking at Ben. She knew he was there. Now that she was told, she could practically feel Ben’s gaze on the side of her face. She felt herself getting flushed again. That whole night, she felt like she was on the verge of a meltdown with all of the lords looking at her. Their greedy gazes wished to have her solely to claim her blood for their children. Yet, Daenys could not help but crave the gaze of that dark-haired man. She shook her head gently and stood up abruptly.

“I have become tired, Jace. I shall retire for the night.” Daenys did not wait for her brother's response before she scrambled to get out of the hall. Her feet carried her swiftly out of the large doors and down the stone hallway. She picked up her pace once away from the prying eyes of people. Her hands gripped the skirt of her dress, the palms clammed up.

Upon reaching her guest chamber, Daenys threw the door open before shutting it quickly. Her chest rose up and down with each breath and the bodice felt tighter than it was just minutes ago. Her actions of the day quickly came flooding back at her. This was not supposed to happen. This was never part of the plan.

Daenys somehow felt like she had failed her mother. She came to the Riverlands to find a strategic match, not find herself relishing in the company of some man. She was no believer. The princess knew from a young age that any sort of marriage was to be one of convenience, one arranged. She felt better having some bit of freedom in choice, but that choice was still dictated by what would be best for securing her mother’s throne if it were to come to war.

Now, she found herself waiting with bated breath for her sparring session with Ben. As if counting the minutes would make the time go by faster. Logically, House Blackwood would be a great house to align with. They can handle more soldiers than the Tullys despite the Tullys being liege lords of the Riverlands. There is an extensive history of military triumph and a fair amount of wealth - not just monetarily - connected to Raventree Hall. It would be completely fine to connect their two houses, yet her budding feelings for Ben made her feel as though that decision was biased.

Mother would know what to do. She always does.

Daenys sat on the end of her bed, gazing out of the opened shutters of a window and staring into the night. The stars looked beautiful, but she missed the familiar sound of waves crashing against the rocky shores of Dragonstone. Homesickness washed over her. She went to the desk in a corner of the room and retired some parchment. The inkwell was full and a quill lay next to it. If there was one person she could vent to and get advice, it would be her mother.

───── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ─────

The next day, Daenys found herself in the same spot she was in the previous day. In the great hall, with Lord Tully and Jace, watching as dozens of men spoke about themselves. How great their houses are, how great they are, and how extensive their coffers are. Except today felt different than previously. She was more impatient. All she focused on was her meeting with Ben later. The ability to speak to him more freely outside of the prying watch of others.

To be caught would be scandalous, however, that thought made it more thrilling.

Once Lord Tully concluded the gathering, Daenys quickly left her chair. She did not run, as it would be unladylike, but she moved as fast as was socially accepted. She went back to her room to dress in the proper attire and retrieve her sword. Once finished, Daenys opened her door and crashed into someone's chest. Jacaerys stood there, barely having been knocked by her slamming into him.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

Danys adjusted her clothing, “Out to train.”

“Alone?” Jace raised his brow. Although he asked the question, it was as if he already knew the answer.

“Must I even entertain such a question?” Daaenys sighed.

“Don’t do anything Mother would not approve,” Jace told her. Daenys resisted the urge to laugh. While Rhaenyra did not speak to her sons about her youth, she spoke to Daenys about it. The stories of her sneaking away with Daemon and later her trysts with Sir Harwin were mentioned in hushed voices over tea times. Gossiping together was one of Daenys’ favourite pastimes.

“Of course, Jace. I will be as pious as Mother.” Daenys answered before moving down the hallway. She was almost skipping with joy at the prospect of spending the rest of the day with Ben.

Outside the gates of Riverrun, Ben was leaning against a tree as he waited for her. When she came in sight, she sent him a smile and a slight wave. He got off the tree and walked to her as well. Once close, they began moving in the direction of the dense forest.

“Are you well rested, your grace? You left the feast early last night.”

She paused before responding. “If I am entirely honest, I miss my home. I left to write a letter to my mother.” She did not feel it necessary to touch on the fact that the very nature of that letter was primarily centred around him.

“I am sorry to hear that princess. The Riverlands can be overwhelming for those not born here.” Ben paused to step over a high fallen tree trunk. On the other side, he offered his hand to her.

“I did not mean it as a slight. I’ve found myself to be quite fond of these lands, my lord. It's beautiful here, truly.” Daenys tried not to think about how warm his hand was in hers. How the callouses were strangely comforting despite their roughness. She gently stepped on and over the trunk before coming back down. Her arm went down to her side, but their hands were still joined. She cleared her throat gently and Ben dropped her hand, coming back from wherever his mind wandered. They continued on their way under the canopy of trees.

“Can I ask you something?” Daenys questioned.

“Anything, your grace.”

“Must we exhaust our title in conversation with one another? It would be much better, and easier if I may add, if you just called me Daenys.”

Ben remained silent for a moment, his vision focused on the ground below him to not trip over a root. “That would not be appropriate, princess.”

“At the very least, we can do so when we are alone?” Daenys awaited his answer.

“Then just call me Ben or Benji. Benjicot can be a mouthful.”

Daenys giggled, “Sounds good, Ben.”

They both exchanged quick looks and then focused their attention back on where they were going. After walking for a while, they hit a small clearing. The grass was low and there were no objects around that they could trip on.

“How much do you know of sparring, Daenys?” Hearing her name come from his voice had her dazed for a moment. It sounded good.

Deciding to deceive him for a moment, she responded. “Only a little bit. Some basic offensive and defensive moves.”

“Then we shall have a round to see where you are at. We will start with the wooden swords.”

With his words, they moved into starting positions. Ben lunged first and his strike was blocked. She moved around him, turning quickly and striking him. He too managed to block it, but before he could make another move, Daenys swung again and hit his bicep. It was quick and unexpected, revealing that she may know more than what she stated. He was shocked for a moment and caught off guard. Ben smiled. He was excited by her quick thinking ability.

“Were you telling the truth?”

“Not quite, but the look on your face was worth it.” Daenys adjusted her stance, with the wooden sword still in her grip.

“Who taught you? Many men seem reluctant to teach women these sorts of things.”

“I begged for years. I was told it was not ladylike and surely not something a potential husband would accept in a wife. But, many months after my mother married my stepfather, I decided to ask one more time. I was ten and three when I did. I marched right up to Daemon and asked him. It felt inevitable that he would deny my request, but he just laughed and told me to be ready on the morrow in the sparring yard. I joined my brothers in their training.”

Daenys remembered that day vividly. She was scared out of her wits. Until then, she never really bonded much with Daemon and was terrified by his reputation. She had clasped her hands behind her back in an attempt to hide their shaking. Her small frame, made even smaller in his presence, stood tall. Years later, Daenys would be confident in saying that her relationship with her stepfather was solid.

“As in Prince Daemon?” Ben was bewildered, “Like the Rogue Prince?”

“Yes, him.”

Ben shrugged his shoulders, “I doubt you could learn anything from me then.”

“Are you the one of those men who are ‘reluctant to teach women these sorts of things’?” Daenys used his words against him.

“There are many things I could teach you.” Daenys pretended not to catch on to the other meaning of his words. She did not even know if that was intended by him.

The two resumed their stances before going back to fighting. It was amazing how quickly time flew afterwards. Their bodies moved together in tandem. One moved forward, the other moved back. They bumped into one another multiple times. Daenys struggled to keep her beating heart under control when they would brush. It was occasionally hard to focus, as Ben looked increasingly better when he was in his element. She also pretended to not see the somewhat longing gaze he would send her way occasionally.

During a moment when he was particularly distracted, she used it to her advantage. She swung forward, moving her wooden sword in a circle and disarming him. The move caused her body to be closer to him, and his reflexive move grabbed onto her wrist holding her sword and pulled her close in a grip hold.

They were exhausted from the hours of movement. Daenys chest moved up and down at a rapid rate. The fog from their breaths intertwined in the air as their faces got close. Her free hand had somehow landed on his chest. There was no denying the lean muscle under his tunic and vest.

“I thought you did not like it when people got easily distracted?” Daenys teased him.

“Well, it is hard not to with you here,” Ben responded. His eyes stared into hers, an intensity hidden in them.

Daenys could not for the sake of her life find a response. It was bold, his compliment. It would not be considered appropriate had they been anywhere else, but they were alone. The realization of that struck her. They were completely alone. Ben leaned in slightly but stopped. Due to their height difference, his nose brushed the top of her cheek. His breath was haggard.

“Please tell me if I have misinterpreted any of your advances. Tell me and I swear I will leave you alone. I will go back to Raventree Hall and give you peace.” He voiced in a low whisper.

Ben began to pull away, but Daenys used her free hand resting on his chest to grip the fabric and hold him in place.

“Don't go,” She began, “You have not misinterpreted me.”

“I will not do anything without your permission, my princess.” Daenys did not wish to correct him on addressing her by her title, for the use of the word ‘my’ before it lit something in her chest. He leaned back to where he previously was, his breath fanning her face. She nodded to him before leaning in and connecting their lips.

It felt feverish, the unbridled heat that surged through her. She had the blood of the dragon, yes, but this was something else entirely. The wooden sword in her other hand, which was held at the wrist by his, dropped to the ground. He moved his hands, one going to her waist to pull her close and the other settling on the small of her back. His lips were chapped but felt soft nonetheless. His nose pressed into her cheek as he deepened the kiss. They both were unskilled in it, and they were slightly out of sink, but the passion was there. Daenys hands moved to his face, cupping it. Her thumbs brushed over his high cheekbones. The kiss gave her more warmth from the mild frigid weather around than any coat she could wear. There was a safety to it, an assurance of protection.

For a brief moment in this foreign piece of land, Daenys felt at home.

They pulled away, but only slightly so. Their noses still touched and she was grateful to feel any part of him. His hands squeezed gently, giving her some positive affirmation.

“You are better at this than your swordsmanship.” Daenys joked.

“You speak as if you have experience, Dany.” Her heart stopped for a moment at his nickname.

She breathed in and out slowly, “You’re the first.” Ben nodded at her words, a breathless smile sweeping across his face.

“For me as well.” They both were stuck in an embrace, eyes staring back at one another.

“I…” Daenys paused to gain courage, “I would not mind if we could do that again.” She felt terribly shy by her request, and images of her younger self being rejected whenever she asked to learn how to fight flashed in her mind. Ben leaned forward and rested his forehead against her. An amused groan left his lips.

“You will be the death of me, my princess.” He leaned forward and kissed her again.

───── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ─────

Daenys sat in her bedchamber with a parchment scroll gripped in her hands. It had been a few days since she sent her letter to her mother and she had finally received a response. The petitions only lasted two days, with the rest being spent mingling among the lords during the day and feasts at night. It was the early hours of the morning and she had just finished bathing. She lounged in her room in a robe and ate from a platter of meats and cheeses to break her fast.

The letter she had sent her mother had been filled with her worries. How she had met many lords of the Riverlands and some that may be of help. Largely, the contents centred around her blooming companionship with Benjicot Blackwood. Daenys revealed her troubles about feeling that she would be failing if she found herself attached unnecessarily. She felt that her judgement had been compromised by her affinity to Benjicot’s company. She may be overlooking another house that may be better for them come the outbreak of war.

Rhaenyra’s response was just what she needed. Despite her mother not physically being there, her words soothed Daenys. The heir assured her that House Blackwood would be a good fit, not just strategically but for her happiness as well. She kept reading a section of the response over and over.

I was never fully happy with your plan. Sending my only daughter off to pick an arrangement that would surely make her miserable. I of all people can relate. Let yourself feel, ñuha prūmia. You are allowed happiness, so pursue it. Many women of the realm would give anything to be in your position. Do not waste it for me and my troubles.

Daenys sighed. It was the confirmation she had been waiting for. Over the last few days, she had slipped away from Riverrun and joined Benjicot in the woods to spar. Though, more often than not, the sparing would be accompanied by fleeting touches and fevered kisses. Despite the dropping of formalities, he still treated her as his princess. Which, if Daenys was honest, was not a bad thing.

All the time spent with him, the voice in the back of her head had filled her with worries about failing her mother. Now, with confirmation that her choice was not wrong, Daenys felt the urge to rise from her chair and keep running until she found him. Jump in his arms perhaps. But that would not be appropriate and she cursed the realm for their stupid rules.

Daenys got up and changed into her gown for the day. She had dismissed the maids earlier, wishing to have some semblance of peace. When she was situated in her attire and sat at her vanity to style her hair, a knock sounded on the door.

“Come in!” Daenys called out gently as her fingers moved to meticulously form a braid.

Jace walked in. His hand rested on the sword at his hip as he sauntered over to her vanity. “Good morrow, sister.”

“Good morrow to you,” Daenys pinned up the finished braid and moved to work on another, “What brings you to my chambers this morning? Normally you would be out hunting with one of the lords.”

“While that is true, I did just have to most interesting conversation while I broke fast,” Jace paused, “With Benjicot Blackwood.”

Her fingers halted their movement and she looked at him through the large mirror positioned in front of her. Jace was smiling, but it was not the usual smirk as a warning of him teasing her. It looked genuine. She tilted her head in curiosity.

“And, pray tell, what were you two meeting for?” Daenys feigned a casual attitude. She did not want to reveal her nerves.

“He invited me to break fast together. It would be rude of me to deny him.” Jace answered.

Daenys pinned another braid up, “You did not answer my question, brother.”

“I believe it is Ben’s right to share.”

She finished her hair and turned in her seat to face her brother. She narrowed her eyes at him. Why did Jace address him so informally? Her hands rested on the seat and she resisted the urge to grip them tightly. Daenys was confused and she did not like it one bit. She relaxed her shoulders and maintained a pleasant resting face.

“I did not know you two were so close.”

Jace was picking up and inspecting the bottles of oils and serums on her table, displaying a sense of casualty. “Oh yes, one may say we could be brothers.”

“Enough, Jacaerys. Tell me now.”

Her brother set a glass vial down and backed away. He continued to smile while going to her door. “I will be out riding for the morning. Have a good day, sister.” Jace then opened the door and left Daenys to sit and mull over their conversation.

“Bloody halfwit.” Daenys huffed.

───── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ─────

The princess found herself strolling through the halls of Riverrun. There were no particular activities she planned for the day, so her mind was distracted. It was near an alcove that a hand shot out and grabbed her forearm. She was pulled in with another hand covering her mouth. Her shout of surprise was muffled. Daenys found herself in a secluded area with her back against the stone. There was a tiny window giving the area a hint of morning glow.

Fear flooded her veins and she cursed herself for leaving any means of a weapon in her room. She brought her leg up to knee the assailant in the crouch. A shout of pain came from the figure, a voice so familiar. When the man crouched over the ease the pain, the streaks of light from the window illuminated his face.

“Ben! Oh, I am so sorry.”

Daenys moved to hold his shoulders but he just held up his arms while still in visible pain, “No, Dany, this was my doing. Not the wisest decision to sneak up on you like this.” Benjicot was doing everything to show he was not in pain, but failing. He breathed in deeply.

“Great strength and good form, my princess.” Ben tried to laugh it off, but his chest still heaved.

“Dearest, what in the seven hells was that?” Daenys crossed her arms.

“Oh, if I knew what it would take to be called such a sweet nickname by you, Dany, then I would have injured myself sooner.” Ben beamed at her. He managed to get over the pain quickly and stood straight. His arms moved to wrap around her waist and pull her from the wall towards his chest.

Daenys arms rested on his shoulders. “What if I had my knife on me?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’d have been stabbed,” Ben responded.

“It is not funny. I could have seriously hurt you.” Daenys felt his thumbs making circles as he held her hips.

Ben kissed the crown of her head, “I have no doubt you would have done serious damage, my princess.”

They stood in their embrace in the dimly lit alcove. It seemed as though the only time they could spend together was during fleeting moments of isolation. Despite the worry of being caught, Daenys would not wish it to be any different.

“My brother visited me this morning.” She began speaking, “Jace informed me of your shared meal.”

Ben’s face dropped. Nervousness etched its way across it. “He told you what we spoke about?”

“No,” Daenys answered. His unease cleared at her confirmation, “It was rather aggravating, what little information he gave. Is it something I should be worried about?”

“Nothing to worry about, Dany.” One of his hands lifted to cup her face. He moved his thumb up and down her cheek.

“Can I be privy to it? Or is it some man thing?” Her hands, which were resting on his shoulders, moved lower to settle on his chest.

“No. I planned on making a show of this, but truly I cannot wait any further.”

Daenys tilted her head, “And what can’t you wait for?”

“Well, I went to ask your brother first, as I am a gentleman who does not wish to compromise you and-” Ben began, but was swiftly cut off by Daenys.

“You? A gentleman? You may not have compromised my maidenhood, but that thing you did with your tong-”

“My love, please, I cannot be distracted by such a memory.” Ben closed his eyes and breathed in deeply to calm down. “I wished to ask your brother for permission to court you.”

Daenys waited with bated breath. “And my brother?”

“He is a very agreeable man. He acquiesced but noted that ultimately, the decision remains with you.” Ben tightened his hold on her.

She smiled widely, “I believe you already know my answer.”

The two broke into laughter before quickly leaning in to kiss. They pushed against one another. Desperation, earnestness, and care poured out of them. Most of all, pure relief. Daenys shivered at the intimacy of his hold on her. One of Ben’s hands cradled the back of her head as he pushed them back to the wall, cushioning her from the jagged stone. A groan slipped from his mouth as Daenys opened hers. The kiss was possessive, and his grip tightened. The hold on her waist warmed, and his fingers threaded through her hair.

“You are so beautiful.” Ben voiced between kisses before moving back to devour her again. His lips trailed from her mouth, across her cheek and to her neck. He stopped at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Daenys sighed at the contact, heat flaming through her body.

“Ben, someone may come.”

“Damn them. I do not care.” He seemed intent on kissing her, with his mouth moving to her collarbone.

“I would rather not have my honour questioned, my love.”

He paused and lifted his head to look at her. His eyes held an intensity she had scarcely seen from him before, “Say the word and any man who questions you will be dead.”

“As much as your words are comforting, I could not put you in such a position,” Daenys gave him a chaste kiss, “I am just happy my brother gave his approval.”

“If you were only there. He did try his best to be intimidating.” Ben said.

“Jace was never good at threatening people. Were you scared?” She joked.

“I feigned some bit of fear,” He began, “I find men to be more pliable when they feel better about themselves.” Ben stood proud of himself. He grabbed her hand and lifted it to his mouth to lay small kisses on her knuckles.

“So you manipulated my bother?”

“I would not call it that. Moreso gentle encouragement to achieve the answer I so desired.” Ben skirted her question and began to rock them gently side to side, “But even if he did manage to scare me, no amount of fear would stop me.”

Daenys pulled back from his embrace, “No amount of fear would stop you?”

Ben paused his movements and looked her in the eyes, “I don’t like that look on your face, my dear. You’re up to something.”

“Well, since you wish to court me, there is one such condition from me.” Daenys tried to ease his piqued curiosity. Ben awaited her explanation. “Meet Suneater.”

His face fell immediately. His eyes darkened and the muscles in his body tightened. Daenys saw his reaction and worked to soothe him by grabbing his hands and rubbing them.

His voice came out strained, “You want me to meet your dragon?”

───── ⋆⋅⋅⋆ ─────

Daenys giggled as she led Ben through the muddy pathway outside of Riverrun. Her dragon and Vermax were perched outside the castle, as it was not a large enough estate to hold the both of them. She held his hand clasped in hers as the two made their way to the sleeping dragon. They came across a clearing that was surrounded by a low stone wall. Jace had taken Vermax for a flight, so Suneater was alone. She lay curled and sleeping peacefully. Her strong breath came out of her nose.

Suneater had dark grey scales. However, upon closer inspection, there were subtle gold flakes throughout her body, intensifying at the base of the scales before being covered by the black of a next one layered above. Daenys had never known a bond such as the one she held with her dragon. Her closeness to her family was strong- especially Jace since they were twins. But her dragon was entirely something else.

Now that Benjicot wished to be with her, he must know all of her. Suneater was the other part of her soul. Despite hatching in her cradle and being of the same age, Daenys view her as a daughter.

Daenys let go of Ben’s hand and walked to her dragon, “Sȳz ñāqes, Suneater.” Good morrow. Suneater’s eyes blinked open and her head lifted to see her rider approaching. Ben had stopped walking and stood by the entrance, unsure of whether or not he should get closer. “Hilago, sagon sȳz. Nyke hae bisa vala.” Please, be good. I like this man.

She reached out to scratch Suneater’s chin. The dragon let out a near purring sound at the contact and closed her eyes. Daenys continued her movements and turned to Ben.

“Come here. She won’t hurt you.” Upon seeing Ben still standing, Daenys continued. “I swear she will not do anything. You have my word.”

After that, Ben moved towards her. His steps were slow and calculated as he wadded through the low grass. Once he was about a metre near her, Suneater’s eyes snapped open to stare him down. A puff of air left her nostrils and Ben seized his movements to a halt.

“Gīda. Rȳbagon.” Calm. Listen. Daenys assured her. Suneater calmed down but kept her eyes on Ben. He was an unknown man who stood too close to her rider. Daenys used her other hand to grab Ben and pull him closer. Once he was beside her, she spoke up, “You can touch her.”

Ben swerved his head and gave her a look muddled with alarm and uncertainty. He breathed in and out slowly to stay calm next to such an intimidating beast.

“Touch her?” His voice dripped with fear.

“Calm down, Ben, its not like I am asking you to fly with me.” He seemed to ease at her words, “Not yet, at least.”

Ben sputtered but went completely silent when Daenys grabbed his hand and placed it on the dragon's side. Her hand, in its small size, barely covered his. Ben felt the scales and the subtle breathing of the beast. His fear swept away and was replaced with awe. As a boy, he had heard of many older men around him who had seen dragons, but never himself had he ever seen one. The stories in his books growing up were filled with him, the history books even more so when covering events after the Conquest. In all his dreams, never did he think he would be standing so close to one and touching it.

“See, it is not so bad.” Daenys laughed gently. She grabbed his shoulder and rubbed it gently.

“Yes. It is not so bad.” Ben was still breathless.

He removed his hand after a while and, with a surge of confidence, leaned down to kiss Daenys. It was a calm one, not as heated and passionate as the others. His strong arms pulled her against his chest. Daenys melted in his hold and kissed him back. She did not believe she could ever tire from kissing him. Her heart swelled.

For the first time in many years, Daenys prioritized her own happiness.

Ben pulled back and looked her in the eyes, “You are a wonder.” Their foreheads connected. The two closed their eyes and relished the sounds of nature around them. The steady breeze brushed the branches of trees and the crows spoke as they flew around. The rumbling of breath from Suneater produced a steady beat to focus on.

The lovers stood in that field, each far from their homes - one more so than the other - and felt nothing but a sense of belonging.

A budding love became solidified in their bond that day. Each mirrored the other. Their gentle demeanours were undercut by their cunning in the ways of fighting. Both a ticking bomb of violence, who would gladly follow the other into any battle.

_______________

✧.* endnote: apologies for any typos or terrible grammar. i did come up with a couple more ideas centred around these two, so if it is wanted i could write (much shorter) pieces about these two. thank you all for the support that has been given. i appreciate it more than you know <3

#benjicot blackwood #bloody ben #house blackwood #house bracken #benjicot blackwood fanfic #benjicot blackwood imagine #hotd fanfiction #hotd imagine #ben blackwood #benjicot blackwood x oc #house targaryen #house velaryon #fire and blood #house of the dragon #benjicot blackwood fanfiction #asoiaf imagine

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2hightocare · 10 months

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IN A WORLD OF BOYS, HE’S A GENTLEMAN

Synopsis: in which jungkook makes you realize a perfect man may exist…

Pairings: nonidol!jungkook x fem!reader

Genre: established relationship!

Warnings: pure on fluff, Jungkook being a gentleman, oc crying, gguks love language ‘gift giving’

Jungkook has always been a gentleman, following the sidewalk rule, opening doors, assisting his mom with groceries, and even pulling out chairs. He considers these actions the bare minimum.

When Jungkook met you, he found himself doing everything possible to make you happy. He started buying you flowers every other week after learning about your love for them and how your dad used to surprise you with bouquets as a little girl. Jungkook would research the meaning of each flower before showing up at your door with them, sometimes accompanied by your favorite coffee or snack.

The pink tulips Jungkook got you two days ago now sit beautifully in a vase on your vanity. "Care and good wishes, baby," he whispers the meaning of the flowers against your mouth, making you break into a big smile.

…

As an avid reader of romantic books, you would often find yourself on Jungkook's couch in your pajamas and fuzzy socks while he either slept or watched television with his head on your lap. He would playfully toy with your socks as you read, and your black-framed reading glasses would rest on your nose. "My glasses are so dirty, yuck," you scrunch your nose, cringing at their fogginess before taking them off.

“Give 'em to me," Jungkook says, raising his hand. You place the glasses in his open hand, and he uses the back of his shirt to carefully wipe them down.

These unasked-for gestures release a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, making your cheeks hurt from smiling. Most times, Jungkook doesn't even notice he's doing these things; they happen subconsciously. Like when he drops to his knees immediately upon noticing your untied shoes, tying them with bunny ears before creating a bow perfectly, not too tight or too loose, just as you like them. He then stands up, acting like nothing just happened.

You'd express gratitude often for everything he does, but he would consistently shut you up with a kiss, saying, "It's the bare minimum, baby. I wish I could do more."

During your girls' nights, your friends occasionally felt a twinge of envy as you recounted Jungkook's thoughtful gestures. You'd share how he bought all the books you had saved in your Barnes and Noble cart, leaving them outside your door along with a box of chocolate-covered strawberries.

Your sister, overwhelmed by jealousy, almost cried out, "Oh my god, when will I get myself a Jungkook!" she groaned into her hands, eliciting giggles from you and your mom. "No, seriously, like what the heck!" She continued, making you laugh even harder while recording her tiny tantrum on the phone you held in front of your face.

"Can I at least have one strawberry?" your sister muttered, creating a small window with her hands covering her face as she peeked through. Your mom burst into laughter, trying not to choke on the water she had just been drinking.

You quickly sent the video to Jungkook before admiring the stack of books wrapped in brown kraft paper, neatly held together by a pink ribbon. The thoughtfully arranged packaging made you reluctant to even open.

Jungkook had always claimed that his love language was gift-giving, using it as an excuse every time you told him to stop spending so much money on you. While he shook his head, saying, "I have the money," your boyfriend justified his actions, making you roll your eyes and then leave a big, fat kiss on his lips.

Reflecting on all the things Jungkook has done and continues to do for you warms your tummy and brings a smile to your face. Jungkook genuinely enjoyed performing these acts, from carrying you or swapping shoes when your feet hurt from your heels to taking off your makeup after you fell asleep with it on, and putting your phone to charge whenever you would forget to.

Your heart races every time you see him, a reminder of how effortlessly you fell in love with Jungkook. His encouraging words during testing week or on days when everything seemed to go wrong.

“What’s wrong, baby? Tell me, I’ll fix it,” he whispers, cupping your cheeks as tears continue to flow down your face.

His words only intensify your tears, causing Jungkook to panic. Not sure what to do, he holds onto you tightly, feeling the pain in his chest grow with each sniffle that escapes you.

“It’s so stupid—” you start to explain, flapping your hands around, only for Jungkook to gently cage them with his own.

“Hey, anything that makes you this upset is not stupid, baby,” Jungkook reassures, kissing your tear-stained cheek. Your hair and makeup are disheveled from crying, and your hand rubs your chest, hoping to take away the ache.

Jungkook watches your movements, sighing as he realizes he can't do anything to take away all your pain. God, how he wishes he could.

Since that day, you find solace in clinging onto Jungkook at every opportunity. His comforting touches, from light caresses to small kisses on your cheek or forehead, become your source of comfort. Each gesture makes you want to shower him with kisses.

…

“Do you want pasta and pizza?” he asks, reaching for a loose strand of your hair and securing it behind your ear before returning his attention to the menu. Leaving you looking at him with hearts in your eyes.

"Hmm," you hum as your head nestles into his shoulder, inhaling his scent. "Sleepy?" he asks, smiling down at you. "Nah," you giggle as he squeezes your thigh, your hand resting on top of his, barely covering half of it. "You should’ve brought jeans; you're freezing," Jungkook suggests, moving his hand up and down your bare thighs. "The skirt was too cute not to wear," you mumble into his shoulder.

"Super cute," he agrees, looking down at your black skirt before attempting to pull it down. "Too short, though," he continues, making you burst into laughter and swat his shoulder.

Jungkook watches your profile as you slurp on the pasta, a rush of love overwhelming him. He'd give you the stars and the moon you love so much without a second thought. He used to roll his eyes to the thought of love back then now, he found himself captivated by the girl with a white headband beside him, chuckling at every 'mmm' you let out when taking a bite.

"I love you," Jungkook says suddenly, making you look up with a mouth full of food. You tease, "Are you dying?" His smile widens, "No, I just wanted to tell you." Jungkook leans down, leaving a quick peck on your lips. Your eyes soften, "I love you."

Moments like this make you wonder: what were you doing without him in your life?

#bts jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts fanfic #bangtan #drabble #fluff #jjk #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic

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roosterforme · 2 months

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Covering the Classics Part 19 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: When Bob is away, Anna can feel his absence everywhere. But nothing beats a perfect reunion.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, adult language, mentions of smut, 18+

Length: 2000 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

Months later....

Sitting in the coffee shop alone after visiting so many times with Bob truly made Anna sad. She was so used to sipping her coffee while he drank his hot tea, and somehow the scent always clung to his hair for hours afterwards. She'd bury her nose against him when they got home, and he would laugh when she told him he always smelled good.

But now he was gone, and she couldn't do anything about it. She accidentally burned her mouth on her coffee, and after that it tasted disgusting. She got herself a croissant, but they were better when shared. Tears stung her eyes, and she had to take a deep breath and convince herself that it would be over soon. Then she focused her attention on her computer as she worked through some more of the changes she wanted to make to her manuscript.

After three more paragraphs, it was no use. It wasn't even ten o'clock in the morning yet, but she gave up and switched to the notes app on her phone where she had been adding ideas for Jessica's bridal shower and bachelorette party. Physics jokes about the laws of attraction? Designer lingerie shop in LA? Can you make a math equation that looks like a penis?

She would defer to Advanced Calculus for that last item. With a sigh, she was about to close her computer, buy another croissant for Suzanne, and then head out when she saw a new email notification.

"No way," she gasped as she tapped on it and stared at her computer screen.

Sky Writing has posted a new, original work! Click the link below to check out the subscriber that you follow!

Anna's heart started pounding erratically, and her fingertips felt numb. Anticipation and confusion mingled together as she opened the link. It was difficult to read as she tried to take a deep breath, but she wanted to consume Bob's words as quickly as possible.

I can see the dusky outline on the horizon,

But the California coastline isn't enough.

I need to be at home.

I need my bookshelf.

I need my books.

I need your books.

I need my Anna.

I need to see you in the next two minutes,

Because twelve weeks is way too long.

"The next two minutes?" Anna mumbled to herself as she read the last lines over again. "Two minutes?" She was out of her seat immediately, neck craning around the crowded coffee shop, looking in every direction. And that's when she saw him stroll inside in his khaki uniform and silver glasses with the most handsome smile on his face.

"Bob!" she cried out, nearly tripping over her chair as she left her stuff behind to get to him as quickly as she could. He was home. He was home early from his deployment. Communication had been a little spotty, and there was so much she wanted to tell him, but he was finally home.

"Anna," he murmured as she threw herself at him, knocking the wind out of her own lungs. His arms were wrapped around her as soon as her lips met his, and she didn't care if there was a whole shop of people watching them. He was finally home. Somehow he still tasted like tea, and he smelled so good, she buried her nose against his neck as he chuckled.

"How did you know I was here?" she asked, kissing him just above his shirt collar.

"Jess told me," he replied easily.

She kissed her way up to his ear as he started to slowly walk her backwards to the small table where she'd been sitting. "Why didn't you call me? I could have picked you up. I missed you so much."

"I just wanted to surprise you," he whispered, claiming her lips again as they stood next to the table.

She looked up at his pretty eyes and said, "This is a wonderful surprise. And I have one of my own."

"What is it?" he asked softly, his fingers tracing the freckles along her cheek and chin as she grinned up at him.

"I'm divorced."

His eyes went wide, and a sound of pure excitement escaped him as he scooped her up into his arms. "You're divorced?"

Anna laughed as she told him, "Finalized ten days ago. Fuck Kevin."

"You drove my truck here? Let's go," Bob said, immediately carrying her toward the exit.

"Wait, I need my stuff!"

"Oh. Right," he replied, suddenly very flustered as he helped her shove her computer and phone into her bag.

"I was planning to get a croissant or something to take to Suzanne," she said as he practically dragged her outside and down the street to his truck.

"Well, I was planning on taking you back to the bookstore to pick out something we could read together tonight, but this is even more important."

Anna ended up with her back pressed against the side of the truck while he unlocked the door, and she pressed her lips to his Adam's apple while she tried to hold onto her bag. She wanted to taste him everywhere. "Going right home actually sounds like a pretty good idea."

"That's exactly where we're going," he promised, tossing her stuff onto the seat before helping her in as well. The six seconds when he was walking around the truck and she couldn't touch him were miserable, but soon enough, he was kissing her while he started the engine. Then she had her fingers wrapped up with his while he started to drive. "I love you, Anna." He kept his eyes on the road as he made his way through Coronado, and she felt warmer than she had in twelve weeks. "I love you, and I would never pressure you to do anything you didn't want to do."

She turned to look at his handsome profile. "I know you wouldn't. That's why I love you so much."

She watched as he swallowed hard before saying, "I know we talked about our future, but it was always kind of ambiguous while we waited for your divorce decree."

"It's not ambiguous anymore!" Anna cheered as they neared his house where she had been living for months. "I'm ready for the future. The future is here. The future is now."

She was all smiles as he parked the truck with an anxious look in his eyes. "You told me you wanted me forever," he whispered, and Anna couldn't figure out why he looked so nervous.

"Of course I want you forever," she told him once again. She'd made it as clear as she could that she was done running. Kevin and New Jersey and everything that could have broken her but didn't were all left in the past. She was moving on a little bit more every day with Bob and her best friends and her tenure track teaching position at San Diego State. She was unashamedly taking excellent care of herself, and she never stopped Bob when he told her she needed to take a break and that he'd handle something for her. She wasn't going anywhere ever again.

"I want you forever, too. And we can go slow, or we can go fast. Or you can tell me you don't want what I have to give you, and that's okay too."

"What?" she asked, her heart sinking in her chest as he parked and climbed out. She wanted everything Bob had to give, and she wanted to give him everything, too. They even talked about getting married someday after he initially got over his nerves enough to bring up the topic. She had assured him that he was exactly the only person she would do that with after her disastrous first marriage. Why would he think she didn't want what he had to give?

"Bob?" she asked as she climbed out as well and met him on the sidewalk. "Why do you look so concerned?" He didn't respond. He only led her up to the porch and unlocked the door. "Bob!" she complained when he scooped her up and carried her up the stairs, going two at a time until his breath was coming in shorter gasps. Instead of turning toward their bedroom like she expected, he went into the guest room and dropped her onto the futon.

She rarely came in here. It was almost funny that Bob planned on sleeping in this room when he insisted Anna come home with him after Kevin figured out where she lived. And now he was on his hands and knees, crawling under the futon as she asked, "What in the world are you doing?"

He hit his head and grunted in response, but a second later, he emerged with his hair all messed up and something in his hand. "I got you a ring."

"A ring?" she asked, realizing he was holding a small box. A jewelry box. She looked at him where he was kneeling in front of her, cheeks turning pink. "What kind of ring?" she whispered, hopeful yet needing to be sure.

Bob snapped the box open, and all Anna could see was a beautiful diamond. "An engagement ring. But only if you want it. I know you probably need more time. I don't even need an answer right now, I promise," he told her earnestly as she scooted a little closer to him. "You were still married two weeks ago, but I wanted to give it to you now anyway. You can wear it or not wear it. We can wait a while if you want. I just... wanted you to know it's all yours. I'm all yours."

She hadn't worn the rings from Kevin in over a year and a half. She pawned them with no remorse before she left for California. "It has been a very long time since I was really married, Bob." She took the box from his hand and looked at the ring. She couldn't stop smiling, and the tears in her eyes made the diamond look all blurry as she asked, "Do you really want to marry me? I'm a mess."

He grinned at her. "You're really not, Baby. You're smart and beautiful and funny and kind. You're a fighter. Of course I want to marry you."

Without another word, Anna took the ring from the box and slid it onto her finger. She'd known Bob long enough to be sure that his words were honest. She was willing to throw it all in on Sky Writing. "We can take our time," she whispered, leaning down to kiss him. "There's no need to rush. But I definitely want to wear this ring."

They made a long, luxurious stop in their bed where Anna almost lost her voice from the number of times she called out Bob's name, and then he made her lunch before the two of them made their way to the living room bookshelf.

"We didn't make it to the bookstore to pick out anything new to read," she mused, brushing all of the colorful spines with her fingers.

"Maybe we could read the first book you ever recommended for me. Together this time," he replied, his hands settling on her hips as his chin rested on her shoulder.

Anna smiled as she reached for A Room With a View, remembering so well the day she started to fall in love with Bob Floyd. The book still looked practically brand new even though he'd already read it, and she grinned as she said, "I can't wait to dog ear all your pages."

"I will gladly let you."

---------------------------

The End! Thank you for reading another adventure in the Sugarverse! I hope you learned that even when you're a mess and barely holding it together, you're still worthy of friendship and love. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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#bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd #robert floyd fic #robert floyd fanfiction #bob floyd #robert floyd x oc #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #covering the classics

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artethyst · 6 months

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~ Shadows Bathed In Moonlight ~

Azriel x Youngest Archeron Sister!Reader x OC

Little Ezekiel was not like his cousins.

Nyx, older only by two years, was cheerful and outgoing, curious like his mother and with an unbridled fearlessness just like his father.

Baby Thena, the youngest of the three, who had only just began to walk- toddle, already had the will of both her mother and father.

Cassian’s mischievous grin with Nesta’s piercing gaze.

Ezekiel, however, was just like Azriel.

He was very shy, in fact, he preferred to hide behind his mother’s legs and cling onto the shimmering skirts that pooled over them than chase after his cousins.

Rest his curly mop of raven hair against his father’s neck who was more than happy to scoop him up and carry him around, protective over the innocent child who had yet to be tainted by Prythian’s cruelties.

It was no secret Azriel preferred it that way, Rhysand and Cassian often teasing his parental axiety and overbearing behaviour, reminding him his son was an Illyrian after all.

Just as Illyrian as he had once been- delicate wings folded against his little back but with unblemished hands and love in his heart.

Azriel would keep it that way.

His Mate knew it was because of the innate fear of the Mother snatching his happiness away- as though he had never deserved it.

Ezekiel was a little miracle.

Not only were Fae children rare, the dangerous birth had put his mother in a coma, and him confined to the Healer’s for the first month of his wavering life.

It was the worst time of Azriel’s centuries long existence.

If he had been protective before, he was a hundred times worse now

When the other children played, Ezekiel was happy to curl up in another adult’s lap, to which many of them had no qualms, as Ezekiel was just the “cutest” according to Mor- a tiny version of his father that the Inner Circle could squeeze and smother with kisses.

Feyre often scolded Nyx for dragging the poor boy around, but Ezekiel held no grudges, a small blush on his face as his cousin tugged him along ranting on about whatever a child of his age had to rant about.

But now it was time for him to leave the nest.

The one his parents has so throughly wound.

“Ezekiel,” his mother bent down to his eye level, twinkling hazel eyes wide and scared. “Mama will be back soon okay?”

The little boy’s lip wobbled and tiny fists came to rub at his eyes which quickly filled with tears. His silent sobs broke her heart, Madja had always said he was an easy baby, like his father.

And even now- when he cried, he tried to hide it.

It worried her- that he would never throw a tantrum or openly seek comfort- but hide it as though he was ashamed to feel.

He choked back little cries as his mother had to force away her own.

She hated to think her little boy felt the need to internalise his feelings- especially from her.

Azriel had assured her it was okay- that he had been that way too, even when his own mother had shown him nothing but love.

“You’ll have lots of fun my Little Shadow,” she pressed a deep kiss to his wet cheek, gently brushing away his tears, trying not only to convince him but herself. “Nyx will be with you-“

“Yepppp! Come on ‘Zekiellllll!” His cousin’s voice sang in anticipation, not understanding why the boy was so reluctant to play with toys and read funny picture books all day.

Ezekiel continued to cry and so his mother picked him up, cradling him against her chest as he sobbed without restraint.

Unusual for such a well-behaved child such as he.

“D-Don’t leave me mama!” He wept. “I-I pwomise I’ll be good p-pwease don’t give me away!”

Her heart broke as he trembled and her free hand came to stroke at his curls, the way she had done to comfort her own husband many a time.

“I would never give you away my darling, and you have not been bad,” she smoothed his raven locks, “you are a big boy now, just like Nyx. You are old enough go and play with all other children-“

“I not a big boy I-I still a baby!” He cried and that was when his father appeared, face just as torn as his mother’s.

The boy did not giggle as he usually did when his father’s shadows came to tickle against his cheek, his cries coming out in small hiccups as she looked to Azriel in pure misery.

He wordlessly plucked the child from her arms, his own chest tightening at the sound of his only child’s pained cries- crying under the belief he was being abandoned.

Azriel had vowed his child would never feel the way he had, unloved and nothing but a burden the Mother was so cruel to burden the equally dismal world with.

His Mate had changed that outlook.

And now his greatest treasure- a part of them both, homage to their fiery passion and proof the Shadowsinger was indeed capable of love.

Ezekiel continued to cry as Azriel’s shadows were equally as unsettled, trying their best to cheer up the little boy who quivered so violently, he might have fallen from his father’s arms had the older male’s grip been so secure.

He would rather suffer burns across his entire flesh- take Truthteller to his heart than have his son feel unwanted.

“You know that your mother and I love you- more than anything. More than the sky above.”

Ezekiel sniffed, his little head nodding pathetically as best it could smushed into Azriel’s chest.

“You are our little star Ezekiel. You are the most precious thing to us- in all of Prythian. We would never let anything or anyone harm you, you never have to be afraid of the world as long as I am here.”

Feyre stood in the distance- letting her brother-in-law share the moment with his son, knowing just how heartbroken Rhys was at the same situation.

The difference was, Nyx hardly gave him a second glance- sprinting into the unfamiliar building with a new sense of reverence and promise of adventure.

“D-Daddy stay?” The boy became hopeful as Azriel shook his head, running a hand lovingly through his son’s inherited locks- a sense of pride and indescribable love overwhelming him at the sight.

Before he could come up with some semblance of comfort, Feyre saved the day. Pressing a wet kiss to her nephew’s cheek with an infectious smile on her warm face.

It wasn’t that she thought her own sister incapable, she just knew the poor woman was just as worried as Azriel.

Their forced smiles and glossy eyes hardly convincible even to a child.

“Hmmm, a little shadow told me that Uncle Cass has a surprise back home waiting for his best Spy…”

The boy paused, his little face red and besmirched with tears but an undeniable curiosity to his eye.

“Spies don’t cry Zekie!” Nyx chimed in as his mother sent him a gentle look of reprimand. “Come onnnnn, the faster we get home, the faster we get the suprise!”

“You like painting, don’t you Ezekiel?” Feyre continued, distracting the boy enough for him to perk up in curiosity, loosening his little balled fisted grip on his father’s leathers. “Would you like me to show you the art room?”

Azriel- albeit reluctantly, lowered his son to the ground, gently encouraging him towards Feyre who happily received his little hand in hers.

The Shadowsinger took his Mate into his arms as replacement, the loss of his son weighing heavy even on his own marred heart.

The boy had never once been out of their sight for so long.

And as Feyre guided him into the Nursery, her sister mouthing a watery ‘thank you’ as a tear cascaded down her cheek, Azriel couldn’t help but let one of his own slip as Ezekiel passed through the doors and out of his sight.

Hesitant in his little steps, but with his cousin there to help him along.

Just as Rhysand had done for his father.

#fanfic #acotar #acotar fic #acotar x oc #acotar x reader #azriel x archeron sister #azriel x original character #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #dad!azriel

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winterrain-11 · 13 days

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some gravity falls hcs :3

- The twins love divorced dad rock. they didn’t really even listen to it growing up but they will listen to it unironically (dipper cries to second chance by shinedown)

- soos names his kids after mabel, dipper, and stan of course, but he tried to name his fourth stanley jr before melody explained that juniors don’t work like that. his next suggestion was waddles which was also turned down

- along with this, soos was DEVASTATED when he found out that dipper wasn’t his legal name. he refused to let dipper tell him what his legal name was for years until melody said that they couldn’t put dipper as a first name

- mabel’s cat and waddles are mortal enemies it’s giving dipper and robbie wanting to k!ll each other when wendy isn’t looking. dipper knows but will NEVER tell mabel

- soos and melody basically took pacifica in after her parents sold the manor and subsequently got more abu$!ve. she takes over for wendy as cashier at the mystery shack after wendy leaves for college

- as soon as mabel gets her braces off, dipper has to get his own. he gets clear bracket bands and mabel (who originally didn’t want to make fun of him for braces bc she knows how much they suck) bullies him relentlessly for looking like a dork.

- mabel eventually publishes children’s books with her scrapbook-style drawings and they’re a hit.

- when dipper first came out as trans, he wanted to be called tyrone. mabel supported him wholeheartedly and was so excited to have a bother, but had to sit him down and BEG his white ass not to use tyrone.

- Mabel had a lot ocs that she writes fanfiction about when she’s bored. she has a hella wattpad following and everyone loves the absurdity of her plotlines

- stan and ford very quickly realize they know NOTHING about actually maintaining and sailing a boat. it was a hell of a learning curve and they almost capsized multiple times

- ford loves the big bang theory and also minion memes. he periodically discovers new memes from 2010 and tries to incorporate them into his convos. he once walked in a room and said “here come dat boi” and mabel gagged

- stan still has significant memory gaps from time to time along with relapses in forgetting. when the twins finally got used to it, dipper started telling stan fake shit that he did over the summer to seem cooler, but mabel would just privately tell stan much lamer, embarassing fake stories about dipper to counteract it

- ford was devestated to find out that doctor who ended a few years after he got sucked into the portal but ten times more excited when he learned about modern who. he loves 10 so much (he kind of looks like young fiddleford. only mabel has made this connection)

- wendy takes a liking to pacifica after she becomes close with soos and melody. she eventually gets her own place on the outskirts of gravity falls and they regularly hang out and watch movies, wendy gives her advice about independence and moving away from the toxicity of her family

#i’ve been a fan since 2014 okay i have opinions #this show was my first special interest #gravity falls headcanons #gravity falls #mabel pines #dipper pines #stan pines #stanley pines #stanford pines #wendy corduroy #pacifica northwest #soos ramirez

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dolliels · 1 month

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I’VE BECOME THE FIANCÉ OF THE VILLAIN?! pt 2

synopsis: going to bed after reading a horribly self indulgent romance novel, you seemed to wake up as an extra of the series. what stories will unfold while on a mission to find a way out?

author’s note: ik i said there would be more romance but i lied i got carried away and wrote too much and so i divided the sections as equally as i could make it without making it end too clumsily.

[one] [two] [three] [four] [epilogue]

it's been about two days since you housed leona from his injury. damn, he slept like a log.

you had been sleeping on the couch ever since you decided to carry this absolute wall of a man into your bed, so you spent most days lounging around.

the first night leona came into your store, you frowned. you've read in the novel that leona is an unstoppable, powerful and consuming being. there was no reason for him to be so gosh darn injured.

then you thought back to when roselia and leona first started falling in love. You had to constantly remind yourself that this novel was not realistic at all and terribly self indulgent. of course there was some stupid reason as to why leona would end up like this.

you already had the gist of the idea.

the thing is, the kingscholar family's royal ties weren't exactly held up by blood alone. there was some string magic that bounded the current king to be worthy of leading the kingdom.

leona stubbornly believed that the magic was false, thinking that his brother had no true leadership at all, just charming and handsome (just how charming is king falena anyway? you almost shed tears looking at just leona. how much would you evaporate if you saw the king?)

so, he took a trip to an ancient cavern where a dragon guarded a book containing some of the most powerful answers in the world, including the truth to all magic. leona really wanted to see if his brother's claim to the throne was true at all, wanting to use it as a way to get one step closer to the throne.

(the dragon was in fact, prince malleus of the briar valley kingdom. he was roselia's second love interest. but only because roselia went to find the book for herself, encountering him along the way. you, however, had no interest in meeting the briar prince. roselia eventually convinced malleus to let her take a peek at a book and spoiler alert: nothing about reality transmigration was there. that was how roselia decided that she would just live in this world forever.)

however, something was extremely odd.

the dragon, far more powerful than leona, beat him almost to a pulp (embarrassingly, haha!) and leona scurried away and snuck into the castle once more, into the arms of roselia, where she sat and took care of him (she couldn't try to get the maids to do it– she didn't have the heart to tell anyone of leona's plans. the transmigrated roselia in the novel still viewed leona as an OC after all, and had an attachment to him, no matter how insignificant the story was to her.)

so the question is: why the hell are you the one taking care of him? where is the hell is roselia??

you placed a cold towel over his forehead (he had a really high fever– probably a cold from walking in the rain. he got sick in the novel too.) you sighed. you also wondered what motivated leona to walk into your bookstore instead of anywhere else. he's seen you only once.

up until the evening, leona was sound asleep, soft snoring being heard in the background as you kept track of all the books you've sold so far on a piece of paper. owning a bookstore is little more complicated than you thought.

your eyes shot up when you heard a distant grumble. leona was waking up.

you instinctively brought leona to your home instead of calling for authorities, so you never really thought about what would happen when leona was conscious again. your mind started overflowing with consequences. you didn't know the law system in this world very well, and only skimmed through some books you've had about it.

"w… what…?"

leona touched his own forehead, feeling the soft cold towel cover his head. he took it off and slowly sat up, finally noticing your presence.

"where am i?"

instead of scared or surprised, leona just looked confused and really frustrated. the overthinking getting to you, you prompted to answer straight away.

"you're in my room. uhm. you've been asleep for nearly three days."

"what…?"

he scanned your bedroom, then at you.

"oh. you're the bookseller."

having leona kingscholar in your living room wasn't something you had on your bucket list today, but you didn't seem to mind.

leona adjusted quickly. although he didn't thank you for your efforts, or try to explain himself of who he is and how he ended up here, it was better than going on a rampage and punishing you via death. you knew that if things pissed him off, leona would make sure it goes bad for the other party from simply the flick of his hand. this meant you weren't such a bad host.

his entire left arm was wrapped up in bandages, still soaked from some of the dried up blood (you were intending to change but now that he's awake, you're not sure if you should)

he sat at your round dining table. you placed a hot english muffin stuffed with bacon and cheese (it was the only warm food you were able to make. coming into this world, you oddly developed an obsession with english muffins…)

without a word, or any thank yous, leona snatched it from the plate and ate it with no complaints. I mean, as long the food isn't that bad, right?

being a bookstore owner, you had stacks of books lying around the house, including the dining table. leona was silently flipping through one of them. wuthering heights, it read. he kept frowning as he skimmed over the pages. it looked like he'd read it a hundred times before already.

you slowly sat yourself across the table, fiddling your hands together as you watched leona eat and read, unbothered.

"uhm… your highness?"

there was no reply, but his ears flicked and he subtly lowered his book down. his eyes weren't gliding across the pages anymore.

"how long… how long are you planning to stay here?"

"does that matter? you work for me, so there should be no issue with housing me for an undetermined period of time"

you sighed. what a bitch. you pretended to laugh nervously.

"alright… uhm. anything else you need?"

"more of these." leona said waving the book at you.

"more emily brontë? i mean i could–"

"wuthering heights is her only novel, you dumbass, i meant more of this genre. i thought you read?"

oh he's a pretentious dick!

the next day, you ran shop like usual. leona, ungratefully so, snoozed away in your bed and ate all the meat you had left in stock. you were barely able to create a balanced meal with some left over ham you stashed away for emergencies. it seems like you have to go grocery shopping tomorrow…

leona seemed to be devouring one book after another. he was a fast reader, and seemed to be rummaging over piles and piles of books in nearly just one day. that seemed a little (very) impossible. you just shrugged and assumed he was skipping through them because he was bored.

dinner was entirely silent. you still had a lot of questions, especially with how the story isn't going as planned.

you watched leona just push away his plate and walk up to your room (again) in which you assume he's planning to snooze away again. he surprisingly sleeps a lot, it was never mentioned in the novel.

"so?"

you turn around to see leona look down at you halfway up the stairs.

"huh?"

"aren't you coming?"

"why?"

leona just glared and pointed at the bandaged arm.

"oh! right! I'll just get my medical kit–"

"so… uhm… you highness…" you started, as you slowly started unwrapping the bandages. the injury was pretty hard, cuts everywhere, dried blood cover nearly his entire arm, a piece of skin completely gone… it was truly a sight to look at.

leona yawned widely before replying; "what?"

"how… how did this even happen?"

he just stared off into the distance. "take a wild, wild guess."

"a fight?"

"bingo."

you sighed. well that was probably it. it didn't seem like leona wanted to explain further, and you didn't want to pry. you knew the reason anyway. it's just that the uncomfortable silence was murdering you in half.

"i'm not good at taking care of injuries… i really do think you should go back to the palace and get medical treatment. i heard the royal doctors are good!"

"pish posh." leona replied. "they're going to go on about how i need to be inside and i'm gonna be caged in the palace again for an entire week."

you shrugged. "well maybe your fiancé? I don't think my medical skills can match up to even the higher class…" there was no reason for you to say this, but you were prying in. so far, you've had absolutely no mention of roselia anywhere. you decided that it was best to get the information from the source alone.

"fiancé? i don't have a fiancé. what are you talking about?"

you felt your blood run cold.

"oh! nothing! i must've gotten the words confused… i meant friends! yeah. your friends could help, right?"

leona scoffed. "no."

as you slowly patched up leona's injury, you bit your lip. leona doesn't have a fiancé…?

that completely ruins the trajectory of the story.

you had two options: the universe where roselia transmigrated into the novel, or the universe where no one but you transmigrated, except leona still had a completely helpless fiancé that he kills eventually. the universe you were in… doesn't make sense.

does that mean you have no way of going home…?

no. you shake your head. just focus on the present and good things will come your way.

"ouch. watch it."

leona glared at you as you jabbed an injury too hard.

"i'm… uh… sorry."

he rolls his eyes and looks back at you. since you were tending to his injury, you were able to see his face even more up close. you probably would've actually shed a tear, except leona was being so unlikeable that despite his good looks rubbing in your face, you could only scowl.

"what's with that face?"

"nothing… just thinking about how a thank you for hosting you these past few days would be nice."

"what?" leona snorted.

"i-" you tightly wrapped the bandage on leona's arm. his face didn't change but you could see a jolt of movement in his ears. "have been watching over you-" another tight pull. "and feeding you-" leona winced.

"but not a single acknowledgement is there!" you huffed. "i'm sorry your highness, but even people of the noble class should know how to have some gratitude. i don't mind housing you in my place forever if i have to, just a simple thank you would've worked."

leona stared at you, wide eyed for a second, rubbing his injured arm, probably from the hot pressure against it. you do admit you've been pulling the bandages way tighter than you should've.

he then lets out a laugh.

"no one has ever spoken to me like that before! haha, you really have no comprehension of what i am capable of, are you?"

in all honesty, you did not. you did know that leona was merciless, cold and unforgiving. but the novel spent 90% of its entire story just talking about the better half of him when he fell in love, so, no, you really didn't. nor did you care. you still had a hard time viewing leona so highly, even if you had been constantly reminding yourself to call leona "your highness" (blegh…)

"I guess not…" you mumbled, looking down.

"could I at least get a thank you…?"

leona huffed. "there's nothing to be thankful for. the food is lousy, the house is small, this bed is too stiff and there's way too many books scattered all around to move around comfortably."

hah… this bitch…

you breathed in and out deeply, calming yourself. you needed to be composed, you couldn't risk getting on leona's bad side for now. you have no idea where roselia is, meaning there is no other alternative way for you to get out of this world.

your hope was diminishing the longer you were here…

"sorry." you replied quietly, standing up to leave. the idea that you couldn't possibly go home now put you in a sour mood. it seemed like leona felt the shift in vibe and went silent himself as you walked out the door.

"by the way, the food is lousy because you keep eating all the good food."

you shut the door.

the next morning, you ran shop as per usual. you didn't bother checking up on the prince, you assumed he was fine. and there were more urgent matters.

flipping through your collection of books on transmigration, you sighed.

there was options of weird chants and rituals you could do to go back home, but that meant you had to have done already in the first place, so that a checkpoint is saved between two worlds. you, however, passed out on your bed with your phone open to the novel on one hand and your other in a bag of chips. that's probably not how you came here… right? honestly, if desperation got to the best of you, you'd probably do it.

you felt movement behind you, as a certain someone comfortably sat himself beside you.

"oh, the store and the house are connected. didn't know that."

you rolled your eyes out of leona's sight.

leona glanced at the books you had stacked on the table. "transmigration? you want to leave this world or something?"

"if it means leaving you, then precisely." you snapped. then blinked.

"oh wait- im sorry-"

leona snorted. "yeah, yeah. whatever."

you coughed awkwardly. "people come into the store pretty often, your highness. are you sure you want to be seen? you are a recognizable prince after all. you should just go back inside." you said, trying to get him to go away so you can focus.

"nah. i don't care."

you scooted closer to you as he skimmed through your list of research. you tried to hide the paper away but he just leaned in closer, your shoulders touching.

"wow… rituals and stuff. you sure you know what reality you want to go to?"

you huffed. "no. this is just for fun."

leona shrugged. "alright."

ding

the doorbell to the bookstore rang again and you looked up.

"welcome-"

two men in armor walked up to you, squishing past these tiny book shelves.

"hello." said a tall man with white, gruffed hair.

"hi…?"

"we're the royal guards."

"yeah… i thought so."

"don't mind him" said the shorter, blonder one beside him. "it's his first day here. anywho, we're looking for prince leona." he shoved a drawing of leona to your face. "have you see him?"

you turned to your side to find that leona was gone. actually, he still there, just under the table.

"uhmmmm… errrr…"

you felt a pinch on your leg.

trying to keep your composure, you smiled. "no. I haven't. I'll contact you guys when I have, though!"

the guards nodded in understanding and left.

you finally looked down to see leona.

"what the fuck was that???"

leona shrugged. "i've been gone for days. they're probably looking for me."

"then… shouldn't you be going home?"

"no." leona leaned against the table. "i don't want to."

you heard another customer walk in.

"okay mr prince, you should go back into before someone recognizes you." you hissed, pushing him away.

leona proceeded to walk back inside your house, as you closed the door. you felt a little nervous, like you were hiding a criminal.

the drawing of leona did make you laugh a little, though. he looked dead and pissed off, really capturing what he looks like on a day-to-day basis.

TO BE CONTINUED..

a.n: 2 more chapters and a prologue to go.. 😩 anyone whose really into the story i love you and hopefully you can survive the next 3 days because i’m trying to survive too

#disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst #twst fic #twst wonderland #twst x reader #x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #savanaclaw #isekai au #isekai

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dat-town · 2 months

Text

one look (and it's over)

Characters: student representative!Leehan & content creator!female reader

Setting & genre: high school au, fluff, coming of age, fake dating for like 30 seconds

Summary: You took one look at Kim Leehan and thought you had him all figured out. But oh he was so much more than that and somehow he became a stable point in your uncertain future.

Warnings: stage names are used, OC refers to Leehan as pretty boy and is annoyed by him in the beginning, OC has one neglectant comment about harassment against boys but regrets it immediately, Leehan has this popularity thing going on with all its consequences, people tend to touch him without his consent and it does bother him but tends to play it off, he also reveals an insecurity about his looks at one point

Words: 7.8k

Author’s note: this is also the product of the amount of Ann Liang books i binge read recently, the instagram algorithm and @restlessmaknae’s marketing for Zico’s kids. partly inspired by who! trailer film and Leehan’s iconic “how can she not like me when i look like this?” title is from Leo’s One Look

despite all the spoilers i hope you like it @restlessmaknae <3

read Taesan’s companion piece here

The first time you met Leehan, he said you were his girlfriend.

Not to you but to another stranger, a girl very obviously flirting with him and you felt like an awkward third wheel standing there with your camera in hand.

“Oh,” the girl with thigh socks and manicured fingers pouted after giving you a once-over as if cataloging what she lost against but then she mumbled out a sorry and made a beeline towards her friends in the back of the room.

The boy next to you let out a relieved sigh and that was what managed to snap you out of your stupor.

“Did you just use me to get out of having to say no?” You hissed and glared at him despite the height difference. Lucky for him you weren’t a fan of public humiliation, so you didn’t call him out on the lie loudly while the girl from before was still so close but it didn’t mean you supported his rude behavior. However, the boy didn’t look like he was feeling guilty.

“I did say no. Twice. She was being pushy,” he explained, letting out a frustrated huff as he looked down at you. “I know her type, this was the easiest and kindest way to let her down.”

“You talk as if you had so much experience,” you snorted, the urge to roll your eyes too strong but nothing could have prepared you for the boy’s reaction.

“Well… yeah,” he simply confirmed with a small nod after barely hesitating and just pointed at his face. His stupid handsome face because if you wanted to be honest, he looked exactly like the type of guy girls your age would be daydreaming about. His hazel brown, longer locks framed his freckled face nicely and his orbs reflected the blue lights of the aquariums around you behind his stylish glasses. You weren’t even sure he needed those or if they were just a fashion item like his baggy jeans and plaid shirt were. He looked like the kind of boy who thought they were too good for everybody.

“Alright,” you muttered, sarcasm dripping off your tone before turning your back on him and heading towards the tunnel under the shark aquarium because you wanted nothing to do with the likes of him. Briefly you wondered whether the girl from before saw this and thought you were the jealous kind of girlfriend but you had better things to do than worrying about that.

Unfortunately, the pretty boy didn’t get the memo and managed to catch up to you quickly. His stupid long legs easily kept up with your steps.

“Hey, wait up. It would be weird if we went separate ways and she found me again.”

“Not my problem,” you reminded him and the guy had the audacity to look like a kicked puppy with his doe eyes. It was unfair. You sighed. “Whatever. Just stay quiet.”

The guy did not in fact stay quiet. He babbled about random fun facts about the sea animals you were seeing, pointing out cool hiding ones you would have missed otherwise and he seemed to know more fish species than you ever heard of in your life.

“How do you know all this?” Your curiosity got the worse out of you at one point when he was talking about the coral reef and star fishes in such detail your past Biology teachers would have been ashamed of their own knowledge.

“Oh. I come here a lot,” pretty boy answered with a shrug and a big smile, his pearl white teeth glittering under the fluorescent lights. “Would you like me to take a picture of you? It’s one of the last rooms.”

Out of instinct you were about to tell him no because you were used to taking your own pictures but thinking about it for a moment, it was only right. He lied about you being his girlfriend and stuck to your side, so you couldn’t film like you planned. The least he could do was to take some pictures.

“Sure,” you handed him your camera and stood in front of the colorful aquarium, posing naturally, then you turned towards the fish and poked the glass between you. The boy didn’t even complain and later you had to admit that he did take it seriously. The photos came out nice enough to set one of them as your new profile picture.

“I’m Leehan by the way,” he said as he handed back your camera and as if on cue, your phone started ringing. You glanced at the caller’s handle before answering, sandwiching the phone between your shoulder and ear to take the camera back.

“Hi, mom. I will be out in a minute,” you said, waving the guy goodbye just to not be rude while you listened to your mother explaining the location of the parking spot she found. You might not meet ever again but you could be well mannered about it even if his previous attitude still bothered you.

When you were younger, you wanted to become many things: idol, actress, tv show host, news anchor… You had always had the passion of performing and ever since you had won the beauty pageant in your region when you had been 4 years old, you had kept hearing that you had the face for these things, too. As if having been a pretty baby helped much with teenager pimples and acne scars.

It was a bit more than three years ago when you decided to take your fate into your hands and do something with this interest of yours. During the summer after your middle school graduation, your family moved to Jeju, so your parents could oversee the opening of the new branch of their business. Not knowing anybody around there but loving the beautiful spots, you started making weekly videos about your days, studying, discovering bakeries and stationary stores. A term passed and life brought you to Gwangju, then Daegu, then last time Daejeon. Over the years your content changed a bit focusing more on realistic high school life portrayal, aesthetics vlogs going around new towns and skincare tips you learned while your subscriber numbers increased gradually. By now, you were an established content creator with a loyal following and some long term sponsors. You only had one more year to graduate and then you could do this full time.

Unsurprisingly senior year had found you in a new city too, this time Seoul, and your viewers had been eager for new exploring types of content, so you had done your research and headed out to look around a bit before the upcoming term made you busy. That was how you had ended up at the aquarium too, not that you could salvage any footage from that day after meeting the arrogant pretty boy.

But oh, how wrong you were about not seeing him again. He was literally on the poster advertising your new school when you went to pick up your school uniform with your mom. Suddenly Seoul seemed to be a much smaller city than you expected it to be.

Small mercies though, at least you weren’t classmates. Not that it saved you from hearing the girls gush about him or his other popular friends. It was a typical high school thing, everywhere you went, school cliques and dynamics were all the same. As the new transfer student you fit in alright, but you had experience in that, in being the new kid in town. You got yourself some popularity too after one of the girls asked for your IG and saw your followers’ number and another classmate was watching your Youtube channel apparently. You didn’t become an outcast nor were you caught up in classroom drama, so it was all good just how you liked it to be.

It happened a few weeks into the term, on a nothing special Tuesday. You were sitting in the canteen with some of your classmates you befriended, spooning fried rice into your mouth and listening to Eunjoo squealing about the new Olive Young discounts, when you looked up and your eyes met a familiar set of brown eyes. The first thing you noticed was a sly smile on the boy’s lips then the second that he wasn’t wearing glasses, so either you were right about them being fake or he wore contact lenses.

You forced yourself to look away despite feeling his gaze on you and focused on the girls’ chatter about Innisfree’s new skincare collection, agreeing to go with them later to check it out. Suddenly, you heard a creak of chair legs dragged across the floor and the canteen quieting down for a long moment before the murmurs picked up. Then an empty tray with only remains of the daily lunch menu was slid onto the table across you and Wonhee on your left gasped.

“Hello, girls. Hello… Y/N,” came the now familiar smooth voice and you caught Leehan pointedly looking at the name tag over your uniform before locking eyes with you. “I didn’t know you go here.”

“I just transferred this year,” you said, unfazed but you couldn’t help but observe how different vibe did the boy give off now compared to the aquarium. Maybe it was the circumstances or maybe it was the uniform’s doing, the suit well-fitted, his necktie nicely made and the fabric’s tight stretch empathizing his broad shoulders. Nothing about him now indicated how laid back he had been back at the aquarium, how relaxed, if not for his lazy smile. Here he was composed, seemingly aware that each of his movements were followed by curious eyes. Huh, maybe he did have as much experience rejecting girls as he had claimed despite his age.

“Do you know each other?” Eunjoo chirped in, cutting your train of thoughts short.

“We ran into each other before,” you explained briefly and while it didn’t seem to satisfy the girls' curiosity, luckily Leehan didn’t seem keen on elaborating either.

“Well, it was good to see you again,” he nodded towards you then flashed a charming smile at your entire table before taking off, leaving a trail of whispers and gossip in the wake of his steps. You looked after him and wondered what Yongsan High’s prince wanted from you.

That could have been it. Acknowledging each other’s presence, greeting each other on the school hallways, nothing less, nothing more. That was until Principal Im called you into his office, offered you tea and mentioned that ‘it was brought to his knowledge that you were some sort of Internet persona’, his words, not yours. It felt weird talking about it with a teacher because none of your previous schools had a problem with it. But as it turned out it was quite the opposite. The principal wished to use your ‘expertise with standing in front of a camera’ to the school’s benefit. So that was how you ended up doing a photoshoot for the school’s Open Day with none other than Kim Leehan.

Although you had no actual modeling experience, the principal reassured you that you didn’t need to be professional for this kind of shoot. He was even delighted by the idea of you vlogging the experience for more exposure. So on the day of the shooting, you headed to the classroom assigned for the shoot right after classes and talked with the photographer about recording the entire session and set up your camera. You were doing last minute adjustments with the brightness and white light with the new angle after filming getting your hair and ‘no makeup’ makeup done by the stylist the school hired (like woah, they took it seriously) when Leehan showed up.

It was obvious that he had experience, he moved around the lighting and photography equipment with ease, charming everybody with his easy smile and kind greetings. He sat through getting his makeup to not glow or look tired on camera without a word of complaint and instead chatted with the woman about her dog. You caught yourself staring at his genuine smile a little too late.

“Y/N!” Leehan’s smile widened slowly, a little cheekily, showing his dimple and he shot up from his chair to walk up to you and your camera. “So it’s you.”

“It’s me,” you confirmed but you weren’t sure why he looked so giddy about it. Was he worried it would be some clingy fangirl of his?

“I heard you’re Internet famous,” he noted and then looked pointedly at the camera. “Are you going to film the shooting too?”

“That’s the plan. If that’s alright with you,” you looked at him, questioning. Even if he said no, you could record your solo parts and use just that and the preparation during editing. You wouldn’t have wanted to make anybody uncomfortable with your filming. Leehan however didn’t seem to mind at all.

“Sure, you can even put my face on the thumbnail,” he winked at you, teasing, right before the photographer called for you.

Even with all his playfulness, Leehan took the job seriously. Whether it was experience or natural talent, he had a knack for easing into natural behavior despite the constant click-clack of the camera and knew how to smile into it when it was needed to make the photographer satisfied. You took a bunch of photos depicting school life at Yongsan High: flipping through text books, fake writing essays, solving equations on the board and working in pairs on a task. You honestly weren’t sure why they needed so much for a simple Open Day brochure but it was a one of a kind experience and not at all bad.

“Thank you for your hard work,” the principal’s secretary distributed drinks for everyone when the shooting was wrapped up and you bid goodbye to every adult with polite bows before dismounting your own camera.

You didn’t expect Leehan to wait for you but for some reason, you weren’t all too surprised either.

“Want some?” He held something out for you and looking down you saw that it was a pack of shark shaped gummies. So random.

“No, thanks,” you shook your head and put your tripod and camera into your bag, ready to go. But you couldn’t without making a comment. “You’re pretty good at this. Modeling, I mean.”

“Hm. It’s good for extra pocket money,” Leehan shrugged between chewing two pieces of gummies. You were sure it wasn’t the first time he heard it from somebody. “And no, before you ask, I wasn’t paid for this either. I mean in general.”

With his face and overall good looks you weren’t surprised to hear that. Not to mention it was a positive thing that he had already found something to earn money with.

“Do you wanna do this after graduating?” You asked, suddenly curious because you realized that you didn’t know anything about him other than his fascination with sea animals, that everywhere he went girls just fell in love with him at first sight and that he acted like you were friends for a while when you had been nothing but strangers.

“Nah. Maybe as a side gig but hopefully I will get into a uni with marine studies,” he said and you knew that it was very judgemental of you to be surprised at his career choice, especially after seeing how enthusiastic he was at the aquarium but it only proved your stance that you barely knew each other. And apparently Kim Leehan kept surprising you.

“That’s cool,” you mumbled, not wanting to voice out your surprise in case he would think you thought of him as an air-headed pretty boy even if there would have been a tiny bit of truth in that.

“What about you? Will you turn content creation into a job?” He nodded towards the tripod in your hands. He didn’t ask about it in a way some of your more distant relatives did, condescending, like you were a child they needed to warn about how unstable of a career it was. He seemed genuinely curious, so you gave him an honest answer too.

“Well, I will try to. But I plan to get certificates for digital marketing too and maybe help others boost their online presence too,” you said because while your plans might not have been unheard of in this time and age, you knew that it was far from what your conservative country encouraged. If nothing worked out, your parents would have been glad to welcome you at their company too but you didn’t voice that out because you would have preferred paving your own way.

“That’s pretty cool, too. What’s your account’s name by the way?” Leehan asked, fishing out his phone ready to look it up and his eyes sparkling with curiosity which was unfair really because it made it hard to say no to him. “Oh come on, I’m sure I could ask any of your friends.”

You knew he was right, he could even just search your name on Naver and find it. You weren’t sure why you felt so self-conscious thinking about him checking out your channel or other socials. Plenty of other people did.

“Fine,” you sighed, telling the boy your IG handle and in a weak attempt of not seeing his reaction, you swung your bag onto your shoulder now that you were all packed up and headed towards the classroom exit.

“Cute,” you heard Leehan’s comment, quiet and unexpected, from behind you just before he caught up to you with his long legs. “You set the photo I took as your profile picture.”

You hummed because what else could you have said? It was pretty obvious. Leehan seemed surprised at first though but then his mouth tilted in a teasing way.

“Where’s my credit?” He singsonged, easily keeping up with your walking speed.

“In your dreams. I don’t want dating rumors,” you told him. You weren’t famous in a way you would have to worry about people dissecting your life but so far you had managed to keep your family and relationships out of the public eye and you wanted to keep it that way. If you captioned the photo with ‘taken by the pretty boy I met at the aquarium’ some of your followers surely would have gotten way too invested in your non-existent love life. Plus, you had thought you wouldn’t see each other again.

“What if it’s not a rumor?” Leehan asked just to tease. It was easy to tell from his tone or the way his eyes glinted when you looked at him.

“Says the guy who lied about having a girlfriend when asked for his number,” you deadpanned with an eyebrow raised, challenging him to disagree with you but the boy only cackled.

“Touché.”

He followed you on Instagram and after one cute animal post in your DMs, you followed him back. You didn’t text much at first, just sharing some memes over Principal Im’s mild reactions to your photo shoot and random sealife content. Then the principal asked the two of you to greet the parents at the school gate on the Open Day which made you bond over mutual annoyance over responsibilities like this. You would never understand what difference it made to have two students offer brochures by the door instead of stacking them on a table free to take to the overall experience of parents, but there you were, on brochure hand out duty on a fine Friday.

“Do I have a sign over my forehead saying ‘touch me’ or something?” Leehan grumbled after the nth parent thought it was appropriate to place a hand over his shoulder or touch his cheek just to coo about how handsome boys attended this school. You got some comments on your looks too but the aunties were impressed by Leehan’s visuals way more and neither of you could say anything because that would have come off as disrespectful and wouldn’t have done any good for the school’s reputation.

“Do you want to take a break? I can cover for you,” you offered because seeing him at unease twisted something in your stomach. Honestly, both of you were there mostly just to look pretty, so if he left to be alone a bit, you would have been fine still.

Leehan seemed taken aback by your offer though if his widened eyes and slow blinking was anything to go by.

“No, it’s fine. Thanks though,” he shook his head eventually and put on his fake smile when the next batch of parents filed through the entrance.

But something shifted then between you, some sort of unsaid understanding over vulnerability. Something that made you think that maybe you could be more than just two people in the same boat. You could have been friends talking about stuff friends did.

Maybe that was why, when you were done and ushered to your respective classrooms, you brought up the first neutral topic that you could think of to fill the void while walking on the empty hallways.

“Hey, are you friends with the school radio club leader?”

Leehan seemed lost in thoughts, so your question made him falter a bit, his eyebrows creasing, confused about the sudden topic.

“Taesan? Yeah, why?” He asked tentatively, turning to look at you briefly and see your expression.

“Is he dating my class’ president?” You asked because even though you weren’t one to bump your nose into others’ business, based on what you saw, you could barely believe it wasn’t common knowledge. Leehan must have been on the same page because his eyes immediately shone with excitement.

“Oh, you noticed too!” He pointed out, giddy, and it was nice to see him smile so wide after how uncomfortable he had looked before.

“It was kind of hard not to. I was at the senior interview last week and they kept glancing at each other,” you said because honestly, they must have thought that they had been subtle about it, always looking when the other hadn’t but it made you feel like a third wheel.

“That’s just great! I can’t wait to tease Taesan with it,” Leehan grinned, bouncing a little on his feet, his soft-looking hair falling into his eyes behind the glasses he decided to put on that day too. “They aren’t official or anything. Taesan was actually convinced for a while that pres hated his guts but as far as I know there has been progress.”

You weren’t an expert at love by any means but based on what you saw, your class president was far from hating the other guy, so you just hummed in acknowledgement. Leehan misunderstood your silence though.

“Are you jealous?” He asked, more astonished than teasing as he jogged in front of you, so he could look at your face while walking backwards. An unnecessarily hazardous thing to do, so you halted your steps when you reached the corner of your classrooms' hallway.

“What? No,” you furrowed your eyebrows because where the heck did he take that from?

“So you don’t like Taesan?” Leehan asked as if it was something he needed to confirm, best friend duties or whatever. Even if you liked his friend, you wouldn’t have talked about him with Leehan. That kind of behavior just didn’t make sense to you.

“No, gosh, I was just trying to start a conversation,” you sighed exasperatedly which exuded a chuckle from the boy.

“Cute,” he noted and absentmindedly reached out towards your head. You froze in your spot the same moment his hand stopped mid-air too having caught himself. You felt heat rush into your cheeks thinking that he wanted to… what? Ruffle your hair or pat your head? Either way, Leehan smoothly recovered as he pulled his hand back and ran his fingers through his own silky locks, waving goodbye to you before heading off to his class.

It was silly how something so small and insignificant like that suddenly made you nervous around the boy. Well, nervous might not have been the right word. You would have liked to think that previously you were indifferent or slightly intrigued at most when it came to Leehan. He was just another boy after all, just one more face that you wouldn’t see anymore when your family moved again. You had become great at not getting too close with anybody after the constant goodbyes had become too much to handle. Yet, you caught yourself waiting for the boy’s random animal fun facts and felt yourself getting flustered when you caught him as much as looking in your direction at the school canteen. It was getting ridiculous.

When you mentioned to Hyewon that one guy made you feel this confused, she told you that it could be just because you weren’t used to being friends with boys and that you needed to get out more. That's how you ended up at Wonyoung’s house party that weekend. The cheerleader welcomed you with a wide smile despite not talking more than ten words with you before but you guessed that it was normal. The more the merrier and all that jazz.

You had never been a party person, it was too loud, too chaotic. You weren’t sure how this was supposed to help with your problem but Hyewon seemed to have fun, especially when she made Gyuvin dance on the dance during a round of truth or dare. You talked with some people from class and strangers both and it wasn’t bad, you did have a good time but after a while it was a bit too much. Very unlike your usual Saturday night when you usually edited your videos to the tunes of your feel good Spotify playlist.

You needed some fresh air after being in the stuffy house for hours among dozens of other sweaty bodies and luckily Wonyoung’s parents’ house had a back garden, perks of living in the suburbs. From outside, the party’s music was muffled through the walls, toned down but still audible. You closed your eyes and let the night breeze cool your face. You only snapped out of it when you heard the sound of movements from the other side of the terrace. Initially you thought that it must have been a cat, so you were quite surprised when behind the huge kimchi jar there was none other than Kim Leehan.

“Jeez, what are you doing here?” You put a hand over your rapidly beating heart after such a jumpscare and eyed the guy sitting against the wall.

“What does it look like?” He asked, sheepishly for once with a scratch on his nape. It was so unlike his confident persona that charmed half the girls in your year. There was something lovely about it though, that he allowed you to see him like this.

“Don’t tell me you’re hiding? From girls?” You asked in a hushed voice and at first it was supposed to be a teasing joke but considering Leehan’s silence there must have been some truth in it. “Seriously, you are like 180cm, what can a bunch of girls do to you?”

You blurted it out without thinking but the moment it left your mouth, you realized how ridiculous that sounded. It didn’t matter that he was a guy or he was this tall, nobody deserved to be made to feel uncomfortable.

“Sorry, that was insensitive of me,” you apologized immediately, not wanting the boy to get defensive or hurt due to your unnecessarily harsh words. “But if they bother you so much, I’m sure there are better ways to deal with it.”

Obviously you had never been in his shoes but you wanted to help, you wanted him to feel comfortable enough around you to share the burden, to not play it off when things got like this.

“Most girls are fine, they are respectful and I don’t mind being looked at,” Leehan sighed wistfully, leaning his head back against the wall, looking up at the sky, starless from all the light pollution in the big city. “But… some are too much.”

You felt your fingers twitch, sudden anger rising in your chest thinking about scenarios of what could have happened that made him come out to hide there. Did they grab him or touch him in a way he didn’t want to? Did some drunk girl force themselves upon him when he just wanted to have fun with his friends?

“Are you okay?” You asked, worried, keeping an eye closely on the boy’s facial expressions.

He hummed. It was not a very elaborate response but it was better than nothing. In the following silence though you weren’t sure what to do with yourself. You looked back at the door, wondering when tipsy high schoolers would stumble out to smoke and to break this idyll. It must have looked like you were about to leave, not wanting to bother him because he spoke up, rushed as if he could miss you any minute.

“Can you stay?”

The depth of his voice was more apparent when he talked quietly. Or was it because of the dim light and the open space? You could practically feel it vibrate through your cells. There was no way you would have said no to that.

It was you who just hummed this time, not trusting your voice, and you squeezed yourself next to Leehan, into the space between him and the kimchi jar, the house wall cold against your back. It made you shiver lightly because in the recent lovely spring weather you forgone wearing an extra layer. The boy noticed though, he shrugged off the plaid shirt he wore over a white tee and covered your back and shoulders with it.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, suddenly surrounded by his warmth and the smell of sea salt even after he pulled back his hands.

“Tell me something,” Leehan whispered and despite initially not knowing what to say, you ended up telling him about your inexperience with parties and how moving around a lot affected your relationship with people and your sense of home. You told him that you were thinking of getting your own place instead of moving with your parents to a new city next time but you were afraid because you had never lived alone and you weren’t sure what your parents would have said either. You were so young yet the last few years had been so uncertain, a constant countdown until the next destination and you wanted to settle down for a bit, to call a place home for more than a few months. You wanted to get to know people without the constant fear of eventually losing touch with them.

Leehan was a good listener. He asked the right questions and shared his own perspective of things. There was nothing arrogant in the way he said that distance didn’t matter with the right people. At one point, once the heaviness of the topic subdued into a lighter conversation about your favorite places to be, he leaned his head on your shoulder, his locks tickling your ear and his closeness turning your cheeks rosy.

It was cozy, staying there with him, just talking. You didn’t even notice the party sounds dying down until Haewon called you to ask if you had already gone home without her. It could have been embarrassing how you didn't even notice time passing in Leehan’s company but you felt nothing of that sort. Shyly, you handed him back his shirt and wished him good night before catching up with Haewon.

You should have known that the girl famous for her intuitions wouldn’t leave it just like that. You were ambushed the moment the two of you were alone on the night bus.

“Sooo… where did you disappear off? Were you with Leehan?” She singsonged casually while you almost choked on your spit because you had never told her that the boy making you feel conflicted was Leehan. The pretty, popular boy of your grade, the prince of Yongsan High. The one almost everybody wanted. So cliché, so unnerving. And yet…

“Wh– what? How?” You spluttered, flustered but it only made Haewon giggle and coo at you.

“Please, I have seen how you look at him.”

“Oh, gosh, is it that obvious?” You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. You didn’t think you were that gone. Scratch that, before the party you wholeheartedly believed that it was just curiosity and being friendly on your part. Maybe Haewon was right and you had no idea how simple friendship worked with boys.

“It’s cute. And don’t worry, I don’t think Leehan noticed. He’s used to more… aggressive type of love declarations.”

“I’m not declaring my love for him!” You objected because that was too much, too soon. You just realized that you liked him and you haven’t decided yet what to do with this new, fuzzy feeling spreading in your chest.

“Why not?”

Why not indeed? Was it not wanting him to lose this fragile safe space he found with you just because you couldn't stop yourself and fell in love when all he needed was a friend who understood? Or was it your usual mindset of keeping everybody at an arm’s length to not get too emotionally attached? You had no idea and it was too late into the night to figure it all out then.

Summer was approaching fast. It meant humid and sunny days, and way too many term end tests. It also meant two months without seeing Leehan which planted a kind of dread in your chest whenever you thought about it. At least you weren’t moving this time, not with your CSAT exams coming up in the second half of the year, so you had a bit more time to decide whether you wanted to stay here even if your parents moved away after your graduation.

Things only subtly changed after that party at Wonyoung’s. You didn’t necessarily look for each other’s presence at school, probably because both of you knew the rumors would be a pain to avoid if you did otherwise. You did text more though and not just about the previous neutral topics. Having been in Seoul for longer, Leehan started recommending places for you to visit for your YouTube channel and he knew that you wouldn’t belittle his complaints when he was annoyed by the way he was treated. He was also the perfect person to turn to when you had a bad day because he would listen and then he would make you feel better with his odd little jokes. He was such a dork under that popular pretty boy surface and you loved being able to see this side of him too. He also made sure to keep you updated about the school radio leader’s and your class president’s progress.

On a particularly hot June day, it was Leehan who nudged you in the side when he walked past you in the hallways.

“Let’s get ice cream after school,” he suggested casually as if it didn’t make your heartbeat go crazy, so you walked two blocks down from the school while arguing about the best Baskin Robbins flavors and went over the popsicles section of the corner convenience store only for Leehan to dig out the most artificial green colored one for its alien packaging. You laughed about the color of your tongues and the icy dessert melting all over your fingers and you had so much fun that for those few minutes you forgot about all the uncertainties in your life. Nothing mattered, just that moment with Leehan.

Haewon’s question (why not?) echoed in your ears at times like this.

It became a new habit sweeping well into summer: hanging out outside of school, looking for places with refreshing desserts to beat the heat. It was Italian-style gelato one week then bingsu or hwachae the next. You didn’t film but you kept posting pictures on your Instagram and you really underestimated the curiosity of your followers because one blurry reflection on the window was enough for people to conclude that you were on a date.

You knew for a fact that Leehan had the habit of stalking your comment section ever since he got so worked up about somebody making a mere comment on you gaining weight, but he didn’t say anything about this incident, which was probably for the best because honestly, you weren’t sure you could have played it off as coolly as when you had talked about not wanting dating rumors back in the day. Because what if it wasn’t rumors?

Next time you met up, Leehan pointed a finger at you in accusation even before he sat down at the table you already occupied.

“You went to an ocean-themed cafe without me?”

You blinked up at him in surprise, trying to make sense of what he was talking about when you remembered what you posted earlier to your Instagram.

“I was cafe hopping and found it by accident,” you explained that it wasn’t planned. If you knew, you surely would have told him about it. Even when you found the pretty coffee shop, you were so excited to tell him about it but then you had to remind yourself to tone it down, to not make your feelings too obvious.

“Still… Next time, you should take me with you,” Leehan said, pursing his lips a little child-like and you wanted to pinch his cheeks just above his adorable dimples. You curled your fingers into your hand to stop yourself.

“I’m not used to filming in company,” you told him because it was kind of a principle you had to fully pay attention to the people you were with instead of focusing on snapping pictures or recording. Maybe it was because your parents didn’t like it that you had your camera on you when you went out with them on those rare occasions they were free to give in to your request. With Leehan though, he might not have minded it but you were sure he would be distracting in the most heart-fluttering meaning of the word. You couldn’t take your eyes off him and it would be a mess. Your viewers would notice the same way Haewon had noticed too.

“Please~” The boy pouted (unfair!), fluttering his eyelashes under the loose strands of his long grown fringe and you felt your resolve weaken immediately.

“Just because you are pretty, it doesn’t mean you can just do that and I will give in,” you blurted out a protest in a weak attempt of keeping your composure. You didn’t even notice your subscious slipping through until Leehan’s pout turned into a content smile.

“Oh, so you do think I’m pretty.”

“I… that’s not the point!” You protested but Leehan seemed oddly satisfied with the new knowledge. He was whistling to the tone of a 2nd gen kpop song under his nose when the ahjumma came to take your orders and both of you were embarrassed because you didn’t bother looking at the menu since you arrived. The ahjumma smiled fondly and mumbled something about young love which turned you crimson but you hoped Leehan didn’t hear and didn’t notice. Luckily (or not), he was still hung up on your previous slip up.

“I thought you were immune to me,” he mumbled and he sounded so serious that you couldn’t even find it in yourself to joke about what kind of virus he would like to be then.

“What?” You blinked at him, not sure what brought this up but while you were confused, Leehan looked like this was something that had been on the tip of his tongue for so long and now that it was finally out he had a lot to explain.

“I mean, it’s not a terrible thing I guess. I like it that you treat me like a normal guy from day one, that you don’t swoon just because I walk past you on the school hallways and you aren’t afraid to call me out on my bullshit when I’m too much but then I kind of want you to be swooned by me. I know it doesn’t make sense but sometimes it bothers me so much that you don’t like me the way I like you.”

“I…” You gaped at him like a fish, speechless, but couldn’t even finish your clumsy excuse of sentence because Leehan was still rambling.

“Like look at me. How can you not?” He finally looked you in the eye and pointed at his face.

His all too lovely face with the warmest shade of brown in his playful eyes, the prettiest hair you would like to ruffle and the smart line of his rosy lips. At that moment he looked so young, so boyish, the teenager blemish barely visible on his face because in your eyes even the flaws made him more handsome.

“Leehan,” you said his name slowly, forming each syllable like it was an answer itself. Suddenly it wasn’t so scary to be honest because you now knew that he was just as unsure around you as you were with him. “I do like you but no offense, it has nothing to do with your looks.”

If you wanted to be honest, his looks were one thing you disliked about him in the beginning. You had known popular boys before who knew they looked good and they had always had the kind of ego that made their handsomeness turn sour in your mouth. But it became clear over time that he wasn’t one to use his good looks to get away with things and take advantage of girls’ feelings.

“Y/N,” Leehan called your name in a similar manner to the way you had done, a confused little frown sitting on his forehead and you wanted nothing more than to smooth it out. “There’s so much to unpack in that sentence.”

“Like?”

“Like when you say you like me, do you mean it in a friendly way?” He asked and he sounded so nervous asking it that you couldn’t help but giggle. He had said it first in his ramble, he wasn’t weirded out by your confession either nor did he brush it off and gosh, he sounded outright hopeful, so the relief made you feel giddy.

“Sure,” you smiled before casting your eyes down. “If wanting to hold hands with you and going on cheesy dates is a friendly thing to do.”

There was a moment of silence that made you so nervous you had to look up again and what you saw was better than seeing any breathtaking sunrise.

“Really?” Leehan whispered, his eyes shining with little stars in them.

“Really,” you nodded shyly before remembering his previous claim about so much to unpack and you cleared your throat. “What else?”

The soft smile melted off the boy’s face and something insecure flashed through his eyes as his fingers fumbled with the napkins on the table.

“And… does it mean that you like me but not the way I look? Like… am I not manly enough or–?”

“Hey, no, that’s not what I meant,” you interrupted quickly but not quickly enough because you never wanted him to feel that way to begin with. You scrambled to find the right words to explain this time. “I like you because you are caring and kind, you listen to my vents and try to help, you make boring stuff fun, you make me feel at home with you in a way I haven’t felt in a long time. It doesn’t matter how you look but to tell you the truth and not just to boost your ego, you are the most beautiful boy I have ever seen.”

“Oh, okay,” Leehan muttered but then giggled and the tips of his ears peeking out from between his wavy locks reddened adorably. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Kim Leehan getting flustered in front of you, because of you?

“Hold up… are you blushing?” You teased, softly, playfully and wholeheartedly smitten.

“Shut up,” Leehan mumbled but there was no edge in his tone, just a smile playing on his lips. So cute. “I like you too. A lot. In a friendly way if walking you home and kissing you goodbye is something friends do.”

This time it was your turn to flush, a cherry color appearing on your cheeks. You were pretty sure that that’s why the ahjumma turned on her heels when she walked up to your table again without asking about your orders. The menu cards were still untouched next to you.

You got to hold Leehan’s hand that day when he did good on his promise and walked you home. He also kissed you on the cheek by the gate because you both got shy but it was fine, you had the entire summer and all the time in the world. There was no need to rush anything.

Your first official date was at the aquarium for old time’s sake and it was the second time Leehan called you his girlfriend. You got distracted reading about the ‘Nemo fish’ and you didn’t realize that the boy wandered further away staring at a big tank full of fluorescent jellyfish as if it hadn’t been there before. By the time you caught up with him, there was a girl there, handing him her phone, smiling coyly. Last time you didn’t feel anything if not mild annoyance for being dragged into it but now you could feel your chest swelling with a new emotion. You had thought before that you would be jealous but what you actually felt was pride. That there was this beautiful, amazing boy and he liked you and he seemed proud of it too as he shot an apologetic smile towards the girl then saw you over her shoulder and his forced smile softened, its edges lifting up until his dimple showed.

“Sorry, I have a girlfriend,” he said and this time it was real.

He bowed politely towards the stranger then reached for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours and you hid your smile in his arm as he pulled you farther away.

“Are you good?” You asked quietly, just to make sure that the girl didn’t make him feel uncomfortable because otherwise you might have had to go back and lecture her on basic manners.

“Never better,” Leehan replied, smiling against your temple with a brief kiss before pointing at a tank you passed by. “Did you know that angelfish mate for life?”

“No, I had no idea,” you chuckled and listened to your boyfriend tell you all about this species of fish you had never heard about before. It was perfect. You could have listened to him all day.

#stories #boynextdoor x reader #leehan x reader #boynextdoor fluff #leehan fluff

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alicesivory · 2 months

Text

The Moon Song

Inspired by the movie ‘her’ 2013 - directed by Spike Jonze

Pairing: Billy Washington x female! Reader

Warning: smut, angst, and teeth rotting fluff (mdni), and not proof-read lol.

WC: 7005

Disclaimer: I am not comfortable using [y/n] but I won’t be using any OC since it’s still an x reader fic. But I’ll slip a nickname or two in some stories ;) Oh and I took some words and sentences from my favourite scene from the movie and the iconic monologue at the end but I revised it so it would fit into the story but all credits goes to Spike Jonze. Enjoy!

“War? You don’t got a clue- what do you know about war?! War against halal butchers? You don’t know anythin-.”

Billy nodded as tears started to build up in his eyes. Of course he knew nothing. It's as if anyone gave him a chance to know something. It’s meaningless at some point, he meant his life and all this bullshit about all of this charade. Just when he felt like a somebody, of course his sister had to crumble it all down.

Or just trying to make him snap out of it from this dreamlike state he’s in as his inner self tries to justify his actions.

He didn’t mean to be like this in the first place or mingle with those thugs.

He never did.

“-grow up, Billy!”

He nodded once more as a tear dropped from his eye.

“You done?”

“Yes, I am.”

Billy kept an eye on his sister as she stomped away from his room, and finally from his apartment.

Slamming the door.

Humiliation weighed over his shoulders as he hung his head low, running his fingers through his sandy blonde hair with frustration. It wasn’t supposed to end up this way. Not the way he wanted it to. Taking a deep sigh, he lets go of all of his tears letting them roll down from his cheeks. Sniffling and crying alone in his dark room. But just as wanted to just curl up in bed and cry ‘till exhaustion, he heard a knock from his apartment door.

Wiping away his tears and snot, he stood up bravely and walked towards the door. It’s probably his sister, wanting to yell or lecture him about…literally anything, really. Nothing’s good enough for her or their parents. He sighs and opens the door with no hesitation without checking who it was.

“Coming back for mo-.”

Oh, it wasn’t his sister.

Her name rolled off his tongue easily like he was dying to say her name for months. She looked at him curiously as she stood there with an awkward thin smile. “I bumped into Lana and…she looks pretty pissed. Did I come at the wrong time?” she asked, pointing towards the apartment hallway. He quickly shook his head.

“N-no! Not at all. We just had an argument- you know how it is.”

It has been…8 months and 2 weeks since he broke up with her (yes he has been counting) and 2 months since he last saw her. Their breakup was hard for him and sometimes Billy believed that their breakup was the one that caused his downward spiral. He had known her since they were in university, she was his friend before he slowly developed feelings for her. His train of thoughts were snapped away by her gasp. “What happened to your hand?”

He quickly hides it away behind his back.

“N-nothing! By the way, What’re you doing here?” He asked, not wanting to tell her the truth. What will she think of him? He can’t just dump his troubles into her.

“I know this is silly, but I forgot to take some of my stuff,” she sighed in defeat, clearly letting him brush away the topic of his hand. Billy knew what she left and he didn’t even bother to tell her since he..well..just wanted her to maybe stop by or just kind of let it stay in his apartment to remember something of her. A piece of her, some sort.

“Yeah? What did you left?” He asked, acting dumb.

“Some books and my brown watch. Have you seen them?”

“No, not at all. Come in.”

Three years ago.

Laughter filled the apartment floor as his pale cream couch was being moved from the first floor to the third floor. He was at the bottom end while his sweetheart was trying to pull the couch up. “It’s getting heavy, love!” He teased as he tried so hard not to laugh seeing them fail over and over again to move their couch up to their apartment.

What’s now his apartment, used to be their apartment.

“Hold on! Oh dear Lord-,” she cackled as she took a step back up the stairs, lifting up the other edge of the couch.

“Alright, now push!” She ordered as they finally succeeded to drag and carry the couch unison. It took them a while to finally make the couch fit through the doorway, but they managed. Back then, their apartment was still empty. No mess or dirty clothes scattering around the floor. It still smelled like paint. “Phew!” She said before crashing onto the couch. Billy follows along, putting his arm around her, letting her lean onto him.

“Tired, sweetheart?” He teased.

“Terribly.”

“Gosh I think the last time you were this tired was two nights ago when I fuc-,”

“Ew, no ew stop-,” she says with a giggle trying to get away from him but he won’t budge.

“And you told me to keep going! ‘Ah harder Billy! Harde-,”

“You are so disgusting!” She exclaimed as she covered his mouth with her palm, but he kept teasing her with his stupid dirty jokes. “Really? The last time you told me that was when I gave you backs-,”

“You are so infuriating!”

The only thing to make him shut up was tickles and her plan worked. When her fingers started to wiggle on his stomach, he burst out laughing like a mad man. “Stop! Stop!” He begged her. After one last tickle, she pulled away with a satisfied grin. “You’ll be the death of me, woman.” Billy placed his arm back around her shoulders and gave her a sweet peck on her lips. “I shall be,” she replied cockily, booping his nose. He smiled at her as he admired her features that he loved more than anything.

He didn’t know he was able to love someone this much.

“Can’t believe we have this place to ourselves,” he said softly to her, brushing a hair away from her face. She smiled back, “Can’t believe I’m doing this with you.” They both shared a sweet kiss where no one could disturb them or interrupt them. Ever.

“I uh…I applied for the military,” he informed her as they pulled away from their kiss. “Yeah? That’s amazing..,” she said supportively, brushing his hair with her gentle fingers. “Yeah..I wanted to try, y’know? Seeing Lana on field…I want to be like her y’know? Brave…tough…,” he listed.

“But you are.”

Her words made him scoff.

“You’re only saying that ‘cause I’m your boyfriend. It’s biassed.”

“It’s still an opinion,” she said gently, still brushing his hair. Seeking her comfort, he leaned his head on her shoulder. “You think I can do this?” He asked with a hint of insecurity in his voice. “Of course you can,” she reassured him, giving him a gentle kiss on his head.

Present day

They ramage through his apartment trying to collect all of her stuff. Piece by piece they collect the stuff she left in his apartment. “Alright we have the books…wuthering heights, pride and prejudice, little women, yada yada yada, and all I need is my brown watch. And it’s nowhere to be found- you sure you haven’t seen it anywhere?” She walked towards his gaming chair and sat on the pillowed chair while he sat on the cream coloured couch.

Normally, he won’t let anyone sit there. Even Becky, or Lana. She was the only one he trusted to touch his possessions. He smiles as he listens to her babbling and talking. He hates to admit it, but he missed it.

“Nope, not at all,” he lied.

Sighing in defeat, she starts rocking the chair as she looks around the room they’re in. “How you’ve been, by the way?” Billy shrugs at her question, acting all casual even if his life was basically crumbling down. No job, shitty friends, commit a minor crime, his sister, parents, even current girlfriend hates him. “Just fine, really.”

His answer made her smirk. “Well your hand says otherwise,” she says. Her witty answer made him chuckle. “What can I say? I’m a busy man.” He always liked how easy it is to talk to her. “What about you? You doin’ alright?” He asks, his tone gentle and eager to know if she’s been alright.

“Well, yeah I’m alright. Ups and downs here and there, y’know?”

“Compared to me, you look like you’re doing amazing,” he compliments her, leaning in to take a good look at her even if they’re a little bit away from each other.

His compliment made her chuckle.

It always does.

“Thanks..,” she replies, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I’m serious though..you look amazing.” His tone genuine and full of meaning into it.

She looked at him for a moment, trying to read him before nodding.

“Well you look like you need a haircut and a shave.”

Her comment made him laugh. Genuinely laugh. It’s been awhile since he felt that much comfort in him.

After a while, their laughter died down and a comfortable silence swept the room. “You seeing anyone?” she asked. He nodded, “Yeah, but it’s a bunch of crap. Her name’s Rebecca and I haven’t heard from her since last week.” She gave him a thin smile, both of them knowing that they don’t want to discuss that topic further. “And you?”

“Been on a date or two but none of them worked out,” she shrugs. He nodded again, a little bit glad to hear that. “You happy with your new book?”

“You’ve read it?” She asks with a chuckle. “Well, I saw it in a book store last week and it looks pretty cool, I might have to buy a copy after this,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I mean sure I like how it is,” she says. But he saw how she pursues her lips with a pregnant pause coming from her. “But I feel like it’s true to what I set out to do. So I’m happy with that.”

“I swear, You’re your own worst critic, I’m sure it’s amazing. Even that paper you wrote on synaptic behavioral routines made me cry.”

“Yeah, but everything makes you cry.”

“Everything you make makes me cry.”

A sense of familiarity washes between them. How easy it was to just talk like normal people would. Alice looked into his eyes for a moment before darting away and spots his injured knuckles once more.

“No but seriously though, what happened?” She asks, pointing at his hand hesitantly. He looked down and felt heat coming up to his cheeks.

“I uh…it was an accident.” “What accident?”

“An accident that involved me and some glass shards.”

“How the hell did that happen?”

Why is she asking me all this shit?

“You don’t want to know.”

“I would love to know, actually.”

He looked at her for a while to sense any sort of hesitation in her words but the only thing he could find in her eyes was determination. It intimidates him. She could scoop anything from the bottom pits of his heart.

“For fuck’s sake, Ismashedawindowatabutchersh-“

“What?!”

“It was a fucking protest-“

“—What protest, Billy?! All I see is that you’re now doing property damage-,”

“—Am not!—”

“—Then what was that for? Why on earth would you smash a butcher shop’s window?!”

Billy was silent.

Why did he do it?

“I..”

Did he actually believe all that bullshit? Or was he just tagging along with his buddies? To be…accepted?

“Everything I do is never enough for you, is it?”

His words created this thick tension in the room. Her brows crinkled as she took his word as an offense. “Why would you say that?” She asks, her voice cracking. “Because it’s the truth-.”

“No it isn’t,” she said, stern and true. “I always felt like you wished I could just be a happy, light. ‘everything’s great’, bouncy girlfriend who always puts a smile whenever you come home either happy or angry and I’m sorry but I can’t do that, I still have feelings too-.”

Billy winces at her words and shakes his head, “No I didn’t want that.”

“You avoid me and shut me out whenever I point out something wrong about you, or us- even when we argue you never wanted to listen!—“

“—No I don’t!—”

“—It’s like as if you can’t handle real emotions, Billy—,”

“—They are real emotions, how do you—,”

“—What? Say it! Am I really that scary, Billy? Say it- How do I know what?!”

Silence hung in the air once more. They were both seeing red and they…she...he…realized how this argument was going nowhere. Billy saw how her gaze shifted, how her brow relaxed and her eyes slowly softening. Her once angry demeanour changed into what is now left with regret and embarrassment. Rubbing her arm, avoiding his gaze. God, did he really messed up this bad?

“I was gonna marry you, y’know?”

He didn’t even realize that he said those words out loud, avoiding her gaze as his head hangs low once more. Not realizing how her eyes softened, looking at the man that she once loved and believed was the love of her life. Maybe he is still the one she loves- but he sees that as wishful thinking.

“I’m sorry that came out of nowhere-,”

“—Billy, It’s okay-,”

“—But I mean it though, I…really want to marry you. Back then, after I’m finally in the military or something- but turns out none of that shit worked out, so…,” he says running his hands through his hair once again. His sentence hung in the air as he shut his mouth from talking any further.

Billy’s birthday, last year.

“You’re so infuriating..,” she giggled lowly as she laid on his bed, in his arms, tangled in bedsheets as the moon shone bright from the window. “Me? Infuriating? Is that a proper way to say to your birthday boy tonight?” Billy teasingly replied, leaning his head to hers letting his forehead rest on hers.

She giggles again shifting her whole body close to him as she clutches the blankets close to her chest to keep her warm. “Jeez sorry, it’s not my fault that you keep giving bad activity ideas for your birthday. Like, seriously? Skydiving? You know I hate heights, you arse!” She slaps his chest, earning a cackle from him. “It was just a suggestion, love that’s all…,” Billy grunts as he cuddles her tightly.

“Ugh you’re squishing me..,” she complained.

“Stop whining..,” he replied, giving her a sweet kiss on the neck. “It’s still my birthday tonight, I can hug you as tight as I can..,” he murmured sleepily. Alice chuckles and slightly shifts, facing up to him. “No but seriously though, what do you want to do tomorrow?” she seriously asked.

“I don’t know, really…probably taking you out and the lads up for a few pints. Just the usual, love,” he said, rubbing her arm. “Just wanna spend some time with the people I love.” Giving her a sweet peck on the lips.

“Yeah? You gon’ give your mum and da a visit then?”

Billy groaned as he nuzzled his face on the crook of her neck. “Knew you’d say that.”

“Oh c’mon, love…it’s been a half a year since you saw them. One visit won’t hurt…,” she said gently, running her fingers through his hair. “Yeah one visit will end up my da making fun of me and seeing my mum’s disappointment up close,” Billy sarcastically chuckled. “I won’t let them,” she whispered closely to his ear.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Her response earned her a smile out of him. “What’d I do without you, sweetheart?” He asked sultry before he started to kiss her jaw…down to her neck as his big hands snaked her waist, holding her gently. “I think you’d do just fine,” she answered with a sensual sigh. Billy smiled, nuzzling her cheek with his nose before capturing her lips with his.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him back with a low hum, their bodies moving in perfect harmony as they explored each other's mouths. Billy took his time as he slipped his boxers down and placed them somewhere in the bed. “Mm…y’know I love you right?” He asked in between kisses as he pinned her down to bed, hovering over her. “I know,” she said. His kisses trailed down from her lips, her jaw, her neck, down to her chest. Gently squeezing and caressing one of her breast while his mouth nipped and sucked the other carefully. He’d then squeeze one to make her nipples perk so he could kiss it and suck it better, leaving wet trails down to her tummy and finally finding his treasure.

Gently spreading her legs, he could see that her white cotton panties had already left a dark wet patch on it. A smile tugging at his lips and he gently nuzzled his nose on her clothed sex. “Already all wet for me, babe?” He asked, placing a sweet kiss onto it before pulling down her panties in one swift motion as if he’d done this a thousand times already.

“C’mon…where’s my sweet darling..ah there she is…,” he muttered to himself. Without a warning he kitten licked her whole sex making her gasp in pleasure. Smirking smugly up at her, he continued to tease and lick her pussy before managing to eat her out properly. Hungrily munching on her like a starved man. He rubbed her clit gently in a circle motion as he stretched her hole with his tongue, fucking her with it.

This motion made her squirm and gasp, her brows crinkling feeling the intense pleasure that she couldn’t get enough of even if he’d done this to her more than she could count. “M gonna put a finger in, yeah?” His voice said in a reassuring and gentle tone. She nodded with no hesitation and just as she knew it, she felt his finger slipping into her. One finger then became two fingers, slipping in and out of her dripping hole as he licked her clit making her cry in pleasure.

He took his time to help her find pleasure. He could die between her legs and he’d be happy. He groaned in delight as he licked all of her juices when his fingers pulled out of her weeping hole. He couldn’t get enough of her as he licked off her juices before he had to pull away and looked up to her.

“W-wha- why did you stopped?” she asked. He hovers over her once more, “Need you inside of me.” Needily nuzzling his nose to her neck, sucking onto her. He then felt his body shift as now he has is back on the bed as she sits on top of him like a queen on her throne. Straddling him, he could see all of her. Caressing her sides, he saw how she looks down and groped the base of his shaft, giving it a few strokes.

“You okay with this?” She asked.

“Mmhm…y-yeah- fuck yeah,” he couldn’t even speak properly, blinded with pleasure.

Then he felt her lining up their sexes, his cock leaking with pre-cum as she teasingly rubs the outside lining of her pussy with it. “Don’t tease-fuck!” Before he could even finish his sentence, she slips his cock in making both of them gasp in unison. “F-fuck, Billy…,” she moaned, adjusting to him. She loved how he felt inside her. Not too overwhelmingly big or small, to her it’s the right size and girth.

“You’re made for me,” he grunted as he needily thrust up begging for any movement or friction. Billy saw how she looked at him, eyes full of lust and love as she started to move up and down and rocking him as they adjust to their pleasure.

“Billy?” she called out to him as she thrust into him, her body full of sweat. “Y-yeah?” Holding her hips with his big calloused hands. “Wake up.”

“W-what?”

“I said wake up.”

Present day, Billy’s birthday.

The sun started to rise, but only tiny streaks of sun rays managed to peek through the blinds. Billy opened his eyes, finding his room empty, finding his bed empty.

Fuck, he just had another wet dream of her.

He looked down, finding a dark wet spot on his pants. Of course he did. His phone kept buzzing beside his bed, probably some ‘happy birthday’ notifications from his mum, dad, and sister. Becky didn’t even bother to send him a ‘i’m leaving you’ text. Ghosted and gave up on him.

Like the others do.

He sighs, getting up from bed and throws a shirt on himself and changes his shorts before finally picking up his phone. Then he saw it. A notification with her name on it. It’s been months since he last saw a notification from her. What is she going to say? Should he open it now? Maybe later- oh fuck it!

Hi Billy how you’ve been? I just want to say happy birthday here and hope you have a great birthday this year🎂 Sorry for the other day, I really didn’t mean a lot of those things, just wanted to see how you’ve been.

I know it’s been 10 months since we broke up and I know you probably don’t want me in your life again but I really just want to say that I wish you nothing but the best things in life. We’ve gone through a long way, we grew up together and all that shit and I just can’t act as if you don’t exist in my life. You always do in some way and I hope that’s okay.

Have a great birthday Bil.

That text was the last straw for him. He looked around his no-good apartment, in the back of his mind he remembered everything he’d shared with her in every corner of this apartment. It drives him insane how he can’t have that now. But God he’d take it all back and do better for her. Reading her text, knowing how much of a shitty person he is, and she could’ve ghosted him and never talk to him ever again yet she decided to acknowledge him as a person. Not wanting to cut him out of her life, even he himself wouldn’t do the same thing if he was her. It drove him off.

He hates the way he projects himself. But it is how he is.He hates everything in his life. It’s insufferable and suffocating in his own flat. He didn’t ask to live like this, but he knew the only person he could blame was him.

Not his family,

Not his friends,

And definitely not her.

He couldn’t stay in his place any longer but as he was about to just grab his stuff and leave the place, there was a heavy knocking on his apartment door.

Life went on for a while that summer. He jogged to his car and placed his phone on the phone holder. He opens his phone, checking if he has any texts to answer before he starts driving. He sighs as he spots her name again when he opens his messaging app. He has read her text but he hasn’t replied to her. Opening her chatbox, he realized that there were also a few things he’d like to say to her. Tapping his heel and his leg bouncing anxiously, he contemplates whether or not he should reply to her or leave it be.

“Fuck it,” he muttered.

Pressing down the voice message icon, he starts to speak,

“Hey uh…hey love, thanks for the uhm message, I appreciated it r- fuck why do I sound so nervous?” Billy presses the stop button and deletes it. He clears his throat, “Hey uh, I got the birthday message, I really appreciated it, ta. I’ve been doing better…thanks for asking.” He said as he starts to drive his car.

“Listen, I…I’ve been sittin’ and thinkin’ about all the things I wanted to apologize to you. All the shit and…pain we caused each other and everything I put on you, like how you think I needed you to be or needed you to say, and I’m sorry for that..really. I think I’m just doin’ that because I want to be better for you, even until now. And you know what, you helped make the best versions of me. We grew up together and there’ll be a piece of you in me too, always. Whatever we are in the future, and wherever you are in the world I just want you to know that I’ll always look for you and…I…,” he paused.

I love you and I’ve never stopped loving you.

“...I hope you have a great day too. Bye.”

Taking all of his courage, he presses the send button.

Letting out a big sigh, he leans back onto his seat and tries to drive peacefully.

Maybe a gum will help him calm down.

A year ago.

Billy remembered it like it was yesterday. It was late at night and Billy was watching something off the old Telly. He had a terrible day. After he failed to get into the military, he tried applying for high end jobs but it didn’t work out. Did another interview today and he just knew he’s gonna flunk it. The next thing he knows he’ll get an email saying that they’re sorry and all that bullshit. He sighed, leaning his head back on the couch.

“Billy?” She called out from the doorway.

“Hm?”

“How was the interview?”

“Horrible,” he grunted.

“You don’t know that-,”

“-They laughed at me,” he snapped his head towards her to the point it sets her off. “I-I didn’t kno-,” “Of course you don’t.” He cuts her off once again before getting up from his couch, brushing her off as he passed through her. “Fine,” she muttered and went to the bedroom. “Can you just be supportive for once?” Billy snapped again as he threw his beer bottle to the trash bin. “Just for once, be supportive of me?” He emphasized, with a hint of sarcasm, bitterness and frustration. “Supportive? Isn’t that what I’ve been doing all these years, Billy?” She replied, taking his words to an offence.

“Oh really? Well I don’t think you’ve been supporting me, more like nagging at everything I do!”

“Criticising isn’t nagging, Billy!”

“You call that criticising? Critics are supposed to help me be better not bringing me down!”

“I wasn’t bringing you down, Billy! I was just saying the truth! Your CV was weak you didn’t put your best qualities that should’ve been the key point-,”

“--Just stop! Stop it, you’re such a know it all, aren’t you?--”

“--Me? Ha! I’m not the one who can’t accept criticism! Who can’t accept real emotions–”

“--Oh fuck you! Atleast I’m not the one who got rejected by 10 publishers just because the book you’re writing is complete rubbish!”

Her eyes widened. As much as they like to argue, Billy will never dare to say anything about her work- most of all, her book. Billy’s rage died down as he realized what he just said. He crossed the line. He fucked up. He saw how her lips slightly trembled as she wanted to speak.

She nodded as tears built up in her eyes. “So that’s how it’s gonna be?-”

“--No, fuck- babe I didn’t mean that I’m sorry–,”

“--No, it’s fine–,”

He gently walked towards her and tried to keep her from going away from him. Trapping her in a gentle embrace. “--No, it’s not fine…I’m sorry..I didn’t mean any of that…I messed up I’m sorry,” he apologized over and over again. Placing gentle kisses onto her head. His heart sank when he heard her sniffles. Gently stroking her hair, he murmured his apology to her showering her with kisses to make it all better. “Why are we like this?” She asked in a small tone. “Like what?”

“We keep hurting each other.”

Billy’s thoughts were suddenly snapped when a notification enters his phone

Lana: Mate, I’m with Becky. She came to mine looking for you. Call me NOW.

Becky? Why did she came to Lana looking for him?

That doesn’t makes any sense.

Billy brushed it off and probably thought that Becky’s there to call him off or take her stuff from his flat or something. So he clicks on Lana’s contact number and dials her after constantly ignoring her.

“Billy!”

“Can you put Becky on?” “Where are ya? Ya sound like you’re drivin’,”

“Yeah was drivin’ to meet my mates, why? Let me speak to Becky.”

“What mates? Anyone I know?”

“Just mates, Lana.” Billy says as he takes a turn on the road. “Why, what’s going off?”

“Listen, Billy I’m not with Becky- I just needed you to call me.” Billy furrowed his brows as he listened to his sister speak on the phone.

“What?- What do you mean you’re not with Becky?- What do you mean- what- why?”

“I need to talk to ya. You’ve not been answering my calls. You’ve not been about-wh-where are you driving to?

Suddenly his car bumped into some people who were doing some protests. Flipping him off for bumping into them. “Billy? Billy- Where exactly are you?” Lana asks again. Billy flips a protestor on his side bumping into his car. “Farringdon Tube Station,” he answered Lana, annoyed.

“Listen, Billy, it’s important, what are you doing at Farringdon Station?”

“I was meant to meet the lads but they’re not here. Outside the tube he said, but I can’t see them. Just a load of lefty wankers.”

“Billy, why did you drive, was that your idea?”

“Nah, my mates asked me to give some of the lads a lift down. Must be some kind of joke.”

Billy looked around not finding any signs of those so called lads. Shit, he got set up. A joke, like people would see him as. Fuck.

“Yeah they’ve set me up, haven’t they? Havin’ a laugh, aren’t they? Knobheads,” he says with a disappointed demeanor that even Lana could detect.

“Billy, these new mates of yours, they’re not who you think they are.”

“Lana, what you on about?”

“Nick. Nick Roberts, he’s a…he’s a terrorist. One of the Crusaders that killed Nut.”

In a flash, he finds himself in the middle of Cranstead Fields with a fucking bomb inside of his car. He could hear his heart beating rapidly, his ears ringing as it mutes everyone and everything around him. From many different scenarios in his head, Billy didn’t think he’d die like this. Trapped in a car in the middle of Cranstead Fields with a ticking bomb that’s about to go off at any minute by now. His breath ragged and unstable as he kept an eye on the timer. Swallowing a lump on his throat, he looked up to his rearview mirror. “Oh no..,” he pants to himself. Scared to death, really. He wondered if he’s ever going to survive this. Maybe he should’ve chosen better shit in his life and maybe he won’t get blown off by a fucking bomb latched onto those terrorists. If only he chose better friends, listened to his sister, he’d be at home patching things up. If he was any good maybe he’d be watching some old telly show with her.

Fuck, he didn’t even said goodbye.

He hasn't told his mum and dad how sorry he was for being a mop, and for everything he did.

“Billy! I’m here! Alright it’s gonna be fine! Just stay really still for me, I'm gonna have a look around the car.”,“Yeah you gotta do something about this,” he pants, glancing at the timer that’s still ticking. “About three minutes, yeah?” Three minutes and twenty five seconds. Twenty four, twenty three..shit! He hasn't read her new book. Lana tried to take a look at the bomb as well through the window with a worried and nervous expression. But when Billy faced her again, she tried to put on a brave face for her brother. “Okay stay still, I’m gonna go have a look- Don’t touch anything, I’m just gonna check the car okay?”

“Y-yeah, yeah…just-just hurry!”

11 months ago.

Billy leaned onto the hood of his car as the night breeze swept through him. One hand on his jacket pocket, and the other holding a fag as he took a drag out of it letting out a puff of smoke into the air. Looking down at his phone, he saw that it’s 7:00 pm sharp. She should be home from work by now. He sighs, flicking the cigarette down to the ground before stubbing it as he walks to the building. After going through security, he saw his sweetheart talking to the receptionist at the lobby as she had her bag on her shoulder. After finishing her chat with the receptionist she turned around and spotted him immediately. A smile plastered on her face.

“Heya Billy…,” she greeted with a smile, hugging him with her arms around his neck. He kisses her cheek and neck intimately. “Hiya, love.” As they pull away from the hug, he has his arm around her waist leading her out of the building. “How’s work?” He asked as they walked towards his car together. “Same old, same old,” she shrugged.

“And…how’s your book going?” His question made her giggle and grins in excitement. “I just got an email that..they’re actually going to publish my book!” She cheers. “Told ya they’d love it,” he said to her smugly, giving her a kiss on the head. “I was so scared and nervous though…but I guess I just needed to take a deep breath with it all,” she said, opening the passenger door. “Yeah, you actually do need to do that,” he said with a pregnant pause. He kept his eye on her as she fastened her seatbelt.

“Hey, babe?”

“Hm?”

He gently strokes her hair. “Look, I just wanted to say sorry about that night. I was a big dick to you that night, didn’t know what came over me…,” he said carefully to her. “It’s fine–,”

“Don’t say that it’s fine, bub. It’s not. It was stupid and fucked up for me to say about your book. Those 10 publishers who rejected your book were also stupid. I think everything you write is amazing. Can’t wait for the next one.” He kissed the back of her hand, his eyes not leaving hers for a second. “You forgive me?” He asked. Billy saw a smile creeping on her face, “I’ll forgive you. If you promise you’d buy a copy of my book everytime I release one.”

“Easy, I’d buy Five.”

“Five, huh? I’ll keep your promise, Washington.”

He chuckled, giving a kiss on her temple.

“Promise, love.”

Present day, Cranstead Fields.

What felt like an eternity of Lana checking the bloody car, he gripped his steering wheel while glancing at the timer once more. Two minutes and fifty three seconds. Fifty two…fifty one…his heartbeat was banging like a drum inside of his chest. Breathing in, breathing out. Lana looked at the timer and the bomb through the passenger seat’s window, trying to find a solution and just..anything! To turn that stupid bomb off. But her expression wasn’t that convincing. It scared him.

“How bad is it?” He had to ask Lana.

Lana could only look back at him with a nervous smile. “It’s fine,” she lied.

“I can tell when you’re lying, man! So how bad is it?!” He asked again.

He kept screaming his sister’s name as she went away for awhile- but she can’t just leave him, he needed his sister. Screaming out Lana’s name like a mad man, his face gone red as he cried inside his car. He does not want to die. He swore it felt like hours inside that stupid car. From the rearview mirror he saw Lana running back to him. “Billy! Listen to me! LISTEN TO ME! LOOK AT ME, YEAH? The timer means nothing! They put it there as a trick so you’ll open the door–,”

“--please–,”

“--Can you hear me?!”

“...please,” he begged again.

“Don’t touch it! Stay still! It’s gonna be fine.”

“Oh fuck,” His head hangs low as he realized that there’s no way out of this situation.

“Listen to me, I’m your sister, okay?!”

She’s his sister.

“You need to trust me, I’m gonna go and get some stuff–,”

“--Lana please, don’t go–,”

“--You gotta trust me! It’s gonna be fine.”

He swallowed a lump in his throat as he nodded. Okay. It’s gonna be fine. It is. It is.

He resisted the temptation and fear of opening the door. But when the timer ran out, it freaked him out. But everything was silent, no explosion or anything going off. There he realized that Lana was right. It was a trick. Okay- fuck. He has to stay focused right now. Watching from the rearview mirror once more, he saw Lana’s team hurriedly bringing their tools.

“Alright Billy, we’re gonna just take off the rear window so you could crawl out, yeah? Stay. Still,” Lana reminded him calmly. She takes a glance at the bomb once more, giving him a thin reassuring smile. “See? It’s gonna be fine. Don’t touch anything.” Billy nodded at her words even if he was internally screaming. Slowly, he saw how her team plucked out his rear window. “Okay Billy, just slowly crawl right out. We got you,” Hass says, reaching out his arms to pull Billy out. Billy nodded and carefully crawled from the front seat, avoiding the shift gear or anything really! Not wanting to trigger the bomb. As he reached the backseat, the timer of the bomb went on again.

“Shit!” Billy screamed, hastily scrambling out of the car. He lets his sister and Hass pull him out taking his arms. “Get me out of here!” He screamed as they all grunted, pulling him out of the car. Billy landed on the ground with a thud and the team ran from the car as the timer counted down from five.

“Fuck, ma ankle!” Billy winced as he rubbed his ankle that got twisted after he got out from the car to the ground.

Four…

“Billy!” Lana screamed from afar.

Three…

“Shit shit shit shit.”

Two…

Billy tried to walk as fast as he could, away from the car.

One.

Billy didn’t explode in the car, but his ankle got twisted and his leg was burned from the sparks of the explosion. Laying down on the hospital bed after consulting with medical staff in the ER, Lana accompanied him throughout the day. Not leaving his side. Even his parents came to check up on him. His mum was crying, thinking that he died or something. It made his heart warm by the fact that he had a second chance with his family. His dad hugged him for the first time in years which was also surprising. But, he liked that surprise.

“Miss, you’re not supposed to go in there-,” he heard one of the nurses said from outside. What kind of commotion is happeni-.

And there she was.

Panting like as if she was just running a marathon, she stood there by the ER doorway. Then she saw him. “Billy!” she sighs in relief before instantly running to him. Billy couldn’t believe it as they both embraced each other. She hugs his head close to her chest, her heart beating rapidly.

“H-how did you-,”

“--Lana called me,” she says with a relieved smile, running her delicate fingers through his hair. Billy turns to look at Lana and saw Lana sipping her coffee with a mischievous smile that says; ‘Thank me later’ all over her face. He gave his sister a nod before turning back up to her.

“Are you okay?” She aks, concerningly. “Never better, love.”

He was done with being afraid. Done being a coward.

In her embrace, he pecks her lips.

Even though she was quite surprised, he earned nothing but a smile from his sweetheart.

“I’d say yes, y’know?”

“About what?”

“If you still want to marry me.”

Billy smiles to her. Guess he gotta save up then.

A/N: I SWEARRRR this fic took me so long to complete cuz it’s so overwhelming to write especially the Cranstead Fields scene- I had to go back and forth on youtube to keep the dialogues and description right꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱. But anw, thank you so much for reading until the end! I hope you guys enjoyed it and I still had so much fun writing this fic. I hope this fic makes sense, cuz I really wanted to keep it as accurate as possible with ‘Trigger Point’ in the first place(゜▽゜;). I’m up for requests for any Ewan characters and if you want me to write something in the future or you have ANY fic ideas, don’t hesitate to hmu! My inbox is open :D THANK YOUU!!!

P.S, I would like to give a little shoutout to @/targaryenrealnessdarling and the Cranstead Fields scene was also inspired by their Billy Washington series fic called “It’s Who We Have” so please check their blog as well they wrote so many amazing fics.

That’s all! Love, Alice!ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐

Tags🎀: @ladytargg @anukulee @michaelsgavey @whencokewascasual @fan-goddess

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soft4gguk · 2 months

Text

to build a home | chapter thirteen

Pairing: Jungkook x reader. ceo!jk + dilf!jk x nanny!oc

Genre: strangers to lovers. angst. fluff. smut.

Word count: 9k

Warnings: angst. angst. angst. i’m so sorry. jealousy. self doubt. ira talks im sorry!!! but i felt like it was important. oblivious kookie :/ confused oc!! sad oc :( soori’s teething and it breaks my heart. oral (f receiving) 😈

Author’s note: hi besties!! another tbah sunday! i love being back soo much. this is an odd chapter, i feel. i sort of lost track of time and how much of it i actually had to finish so it’s a bit of a shorter one. it’s missing the final part, sort of. and it was making me anxious! because i wanted to post today. and then i remembered i make the rules so… chapter fourteen is coming no longer than wednesday!! it’s outlined and it’ll be what was missing in this chapter. we’re back to tbah sundays after that tho :) i love u guys so much. do let me know what u think of this chappie, i love book clubbing with yall!! xoxo

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

Chapter Thirteen

When you get home that night, you smell like him. It alters your senses, your body nothing but a phantom touch of where he’d been. You look at yourself in the mirror and laugh at how obvious his mark is. He doesn’t just show on your smudged mascara or your messy hair, no. He’s all over your eyes. You can’t tell if the glint in them is from the remnants of the pleasure he made you feel or from the tears that threaten to fall. And perhaps that’s just what you need. To cry. Not with feminine rage music playing in the background, or in a burst of anger, but just to cry. To let yourself feel whatever it is your heart needs to. You can feel it, the way it screams at you and begs you to just let it be.

So you let it. You shower, letting your tears get lost in the water that falls down your body. You cry when you let yourself release the feeling and you cry when you wash him off your body, his smell going down the drain alongside your anger. Now you’re just sad.

You cry your skincare off and give up on it tonight. You brush your hair until you can’t stare at yourself in the mirror anymore, because it just makes you cry more. For some reason the reflection that stares back at you convinces you that this is why he doesn’t love you. You look like a little child, hopeless and helpless. Eyes puffy, bared faced, in your old pajamas with the faded print that once said, born to be cute. You’ve had them since you were fifteen and all of a sudden, your nostalgic attachment feels dumb. You feel dumb. And pathetic. And sad. Your brain is cruel, letting you know exactly what it thinks. How could he want to be with someone like this? Like you? It’s almost ironic how your words of hatred all originate from words of love. From the words of love he didn’t reciprocate.

You think of Ira, because the streak of cruelty couldn’t just end there. You think of her beauty, of her face. You wonder if she ever felt like this about herself. If she ever stared at the mirror and didn’t feel like the reflection staring back at her was enough. You don’t want to be unfair towards her, but you doubt it. You doubt someone like her could ever walk into a room with uncertain steps and words that faltered. All you can see when you look at her is confidence and beauty. Her and Jungkook made sense together. It almost felt like a perfect trick from the universe – a power move.

You get under your covers, exhausted and with the hints of a headache that threatens to settle aggressively if you kept the tears running. You hug the teddy bear you’d grown emotionally attached to when you were six. It makes you feel pathetic yet again, but it also brings comfort and so you pull it closer to you. You wonder if you’ll ever fully grow up. The heart ache turns into something bigger, something downright existential and it won’t stop. Even if you tell yourself that it’s irrational, that things just look bad right now but won’t be like this forever. The self doubt roots inside of you, growing branches that grow through your body. Will you ever become something out of who you are right now? Will you write a book, buy a house, travel the world, start a family? The last one breaks you with a nature that’s so acute it brings back the tears.

You grab your phone, an intense desire to type Ira Sommersmith into the search bar. You find it kind of funny – to be comparing yourself to someone that you can literally google. When did you ever stand a chance with him, really? When did it ever make sense that he’d choose you? When did it occur to you that you were enough?

Ira was from a small town in Europe you couldn’t pronounce. When she was younger she spent most of her time riding horses, they were her biggest passion. She even says it in an interview after they ask her what she thinks she’d be doing if she wasn’t a model, pondering on it for a second before replying, “I’d be in a farm, riding horses all day.” And even though her hair is perfectly styled and she’s wearing very pointy stilettos, you believe her. Her dreams sound completely valid to you because amidst her sharp features, she has a soft face.

Another article tells you she’d been scouted when she was sixteen. She’d been on holiday in London with her parents – she was an only child – and she’d gotten stopped in the street. In another interview where she talks about this, she laughs timidly when they ask her, her gaze down when she says, “they told me I was beautiful in the way things in important places where. Like magazines and billboards,” she softens the flattery by saying, “if you consider those things to be important, of course.” And it’s during that interview that you realize you can’t hate her. Not because you don’t want to, but because she makes it really hard to.

She’d been on her own ever since – traveling the world, walking the most important catwalks in the most important cities, grazing the covers of every magazine and billboards, she’d even made a couple of movie appearances. You wonder how you could’ve missed her. She seemed to be everywhere. She sits on a makeup chair, two people behind her doing her hair at the same time, while someone else works on her face. She talks about having had a 4 am call time, sleeping very little the night before, being jet lagged and hungry. But she laughs as she says this. You almost laugh, too. The camera man asks her how she keeps up with the hecticness and she doesn’t sit on her words for even a second before she says, “I have a really great support system. My family, my friends. Also, I always keep a snack on me.” The video shows pictures of her, in different settings, with said family and friends. You actually recognize some of the faces – actresses, models, influencers. You pause the video in the middle of a particular frame when you see a face you recognize better than the others. It’s Kenny. It’s probably the picture that dates back the furthest, they both look so young. You type their names into another Google search and their friendship is revealed to you in an almost too perfect of a timeline. They’d been friends since they were eighteen after meeting backstage at a Chanel show. Your eyes widen. A Chanel show. Holy fuck. Who were you acquainted with? Kenny almost looks like a different person behind the camera, her eyes fierce and face cold.

You scroll and scroll until something catches your eye. It’s a paparazzi picture, taken in a big city you don’t recognize. Hobi has his arm around Kenny and Ira and Jungkook hold hands and look into each other’s eyes as they strut down a sidewalk. It looks straight out of a catalog, or something. They’re perfect. Then it’s his name alongside hers that you’re typing into the search bar. You’re surprised to find that their relationship had been quite private, not a lot of information about it on the web besides the basics. Forbes talks about Ira being a model, Vogue talks about Jungkook being the heir to The West End Collection. The anonymity their relationship holds brings some sort of frenzy, though, as you read a couple of tweets and posts that idolize their relationship. Strangers wishing them the best, looking up to them, wishing they could have a boyfriend just like him. Another perfect paparazzi shoot of them at the beach, Jungkook picking Ira up from behind, mid-spin. She’s radiant as she laughs, body clad in a white bikini thar reveals her perfect body. There’s over 300 comments under the picture. Someone says, “if my girl looked like that I’d be in a good mood for the rest of my life.”

And you get it. You get it because she’s beautiful, and talented and easygoing. She’s confident but humble and when she speaks, you can see the way she thinks about the words before they leave her, making her sound so very eloquent. She’s gentle and dainty and her voice is soft. The more you scroll, the more you form these thoughts inside your head and then you find the perfect word to describe her: gracious. Elegant is a close second.

Your eyes feel heavy and it’s nearly two a.m.. Your phone screen illuminates your face as another video plays. She’s being asked 73 questions.

“What’s something you can’t live without?”

“My boyfriend.”

“So, you’re in love.”

She nods, a blush creeping up her cheeks.

“He’s the love of my life.”

Your body aches with exhaustion, courtesy of your late night perusing. Your gaze gets lost on the fruit you’re cutting at a lethargic pace and you don’t even react when you lose grip on the knife and it comes dangerously close to cutting through your skin.

Mrs. Chae walks over to you, but you don’t notice her proximity until she’s placing a coffee cup in front of you, her movements gentle, like she understands. When you look up at her and smile, she smiles back, briefly caressing your arm before she’s back to busying herself with her morning responsibilities. Her kindness makes you want to cry.

You hear Soori’s cries long before she enters your line of vision, and when she finally does, she’s pouting and squinting her eyes before letting out another long wail.

“Oh, my sweet baby,” you walk over to them, running your hands down her cheeks, wiping her tears away. She turns around, nuzzling her face between Jungkook’s neck.

“She’s been in pain since she woke up. I gave her a bottle and some Tylenol but nothing helps.” Jungkook rocks her from side to side, hand coming to cup her little head to try and comfort her, but her cries only get louder.

“It’s okay, the medicine will kick in soon and I’ll keep her as comfortable as I possibly can,” you reassure him, but he still looks miserable, guilt settling in the closer he gets to having to leave.

“I hate to leave her like this.”

“You’re not leaving her. You’ll be back home soon. It’s okay, Jungkook, she’s going through a totally normal process. As painful as it is for her, she’ll be fine.”

He nods and she seems to calm down, too, turning around as if following the sound of your voice. She stares at you for a second and you smile and even though she doesn’t reciprocate it, she falls into your arms the way she does every morning.

“Hi, baby,” you kiss her chubby cheeks. “You’ll be alright. Say, I’m gonna be okay daddy!” It’s sweet music to your ears as you get a little chuckle out of her when you raise her little arm.

Jungkook stares at her, lovingly. He stares at you lovingly, too, only you’re too busy being sad to notice. You can barely look into his eyes.

“I’ll probably be late today again, w-”

“We’ll be here. And I’ll be with her. Don’t worry.”

“Thank you, ___.”

And all you can do is smile at him, only allowing yourself to stare into his eyes for a brief second, because any longer could break you further and he’d have no other choice than to know. Perhaps that wouldn’t be such a bad thing – you’re smart enough to know that. But the side of you that can barely handle your feelings wonders how hard it’d be to share them, yet again, with him. Your heart, achey as ever reminds you that it was the shared feelings he couldn’t do anything about that land you right where you are now.

You decide to be with your sadness, alone.

Soori’s pain comes in waves. In the morning she’s fuzzy, then after breakfast she seems to be doing a little better. You two play in the garden and you let her get messy with watercolors. She’s distracted enough for all of two hours, which you deem a success in your book. She cries again as you put her down for her nap. She cries until she tires herself and you hold her through it all. When you try to put her down on her crib, she wakes up, tears threatening to leave her eyes again, and so you hold her and sit down on the rocking chair, letting her sleep on you. You let her sleep as much as she needs and when she wakes up, you have drool all over your shirt. You smile, knowing that’s a clear sign that it was a deep and successful nap.

She’s good during lunch time and then fuzzy again afterwards. She throws a block at you and you hate that you have to give her the gentle talk when she’s in such visible pain. But she’s good and she listens and when she nuzzles herself into your arms ten minutes later, you know it’s because she’s sorry. She’s so smart and it’s beginning to show in every aspect of her.

You read her books, even as she cries halfway into the third, eventually falling asleep. You let her snooze in your arms once again, but try to keep the nap short so she can have a good night’s sleep. She’s a bit groggy and unhappy when you wake her up but she gets straight to playing afterwards. You make her a snack and it seems to be going well until she’s back to restless tears. It kind of reminds you of when you’d first met her, when you were certain about having obliterated your chances at getting to spend time with the “cute baby”. She cries and cries and yet all you can think of is how grateful you are that you got the job, by some odd chance and one hell of a lot of luck.

You stare out into the garden as you rock her in your arms. Your exhaustion is starting to get the best of you and you’re relieved when she begins to calm down, her sobs turning into tiny sniffles and her head falling into your shoulder. You give her back soft, little pats as she relaxes in your hold. And right as you think she’s about to fall asleep, her head springs up and you hear her say,

“Dada!”

You turn around, surprised eyes on Jungkook as he makes his way inside the living room. He smiles at Soori, who jumps in your hold when he outstretches his arms in her direction as he greets her sweetly.

“Hi, baby,” he takes her in his arms, lathering kisses all over her cheeks. She giggles and you smile in relief because it’s so good to see her so happy. “Daddy’s home! Did you miss me?” she claps her hands as if agreeing with him and he laughs, kissing all over her face.

“You’re home early,” you say, a small smile on your face as you take in the scene before you.

He takes a step forward, grabbing you by the waist and kissing you. It takes you by surprise but you let him. The kiss is deep but soft and it lasts longer than you’d expect. You feel his smile on your lips long before he pulls away.

“We closed the deal,” he says. “It’s done. We did it.”

You smile, hugging him to you. Your face to his chest and words muffled when you say, “congratulations.”

Soori taps on your shoulder, whining as she gets smothered between the two of you, making you both laugh as you stare at her. She looks confused and pouty, can’t decide who she wants to entertain first. She smiles at you before she’s nuzzling her head against her father’s neck. Jungkook does a little jump and she shrieks in excitement, looking back at you and smiling again.

“I want to celebrate,” he says.

“You should. I know how hard you’ve been working for this, it deserves a celebration.”

“With you.” He pulls you closer once again. “And Soori. Us three. We can have dinner somewhere nice, what do you think?”

You ponder on his words, suddenly being hit with the exhaustion you’ve been carrying since the morning tenfold. You also think about the way your heart has been actively breaking since last night, and probably for the past two weeks. You look at his face, a big smile that makes him look young and carefree. In times like these you convince yourself that you see him like no one in the world can.

“I don’t know, I-” you try, but the minute you see his smile drop, it’s impossible to keep up the cold front. “I don’t have anything fancy to wear.” you follow your lies with a smile.

He kisses you again. “You don’t need to.”

“I’d have to go change though.”

“We can stop by your place,” he runs his hand through your hair.

“Okay,” your voice is faint. Barely there.

“Great!” He turns to Soori, bouncing her in his arms. “I need to call Jin, run him through some final protocols. I’ll be twenty minutes tops and then we can go.”

He says this in a hurry, making his way to his office already.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

He looks at you, confused. “Huh,” and then it hits him as Soori chuckles. “Oh! Shit. Yeah.” He laughs, passing her over to you. “I’ll be right back.”

He kisses her forehead, then yours. When he turns around Soori looks at you. You stare back and shrug, making her laugh.

“He’s funny, huh,” you say, and she laughs even louder. “Yeah, he is. You have a good daddy.”

And as much as your heart exhausts itself at your words, it knows that much is true. It just can’t help but wonder if it’s enough.

You stand before your closet, hands on your hips as you attempt to find something that’s presentable enough for the very fancy and certainly very expensive restaurant Jungkook had chosen. French cuisine, classic interiors and a seasonal menu. You knew it was almost impossible to get a reservation because Lucy had studied their M.O. in class and often praised their chefs. In Jungkook’s case, the reservation was one call away and probably all but three minutes to finalize. He’d told you he frequented the place quite often and that they had, and you quote, a soft spot for him.

You skim through your dresses, skirts, shirts, all a little frantically as you look at the time. You don’t have much of it, but luckily you’d done your makeup first thing, darkening your eyes a bit to distract from the fact that you wouldn’t be able to pull a dress that impressed. Your hair was in an updo that looked like it’d taken longer to perfect but in reality, you’d gotten lucky and got it just right the first time.

You’re in nothing but your underwear, as if the power of your sight alone could make fancy little dresses magically appear. You don’t know what to do, and so you call Lucy.

“Hello, you,” she greets sweetly.

“Lucy, I don’t have anything to wear.”

“I’ve been well! How have you been, ___? Oh! I miss you, too.”

You laugh, playfully rolling your eyes. “I miss you more than you miss me, I can guarantee that much.”

“Never,” she says, “what’s this fashion emergency about?”

“Well, we’re going to La Mélodie and-”

“Woah?”

“Yeah,” you sigh.

“Date night, huh?”

You think about it. “Mm, something like that, sure. But I don’t know what to wear. I have nothing to wear!”

She goes silent for a second and you can hear her gears getting into motion. Finally she says,

“You do. But you’re not gonna like it. But you’re gonna have to hear me out.”

“Okay…”

“Do you remember that Halloween, well into your hoe era, that you wore that skimpy black dress and painted whiskers on your face and said you were a rat?”

You gasp. “I was a mouse.”

“Potatoe, potato.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No. I’m pretty sure I flashed like, three people that night. Involuntarily. Like, I actually had to apologize for it.”

“That’s to blame on tequila, not on the dress! It was a good dress. And I’m afraid it’s your only option so you better buddy up with it!”

“Great. I guess I’ll be the slutty nanny tonight.”

“That’s a great porn title, make good use of it!”

“Lucy. Soori will be joining us.”

“Why is the baby joining you? No offense to the baby. But why?”

“Long story. I’ll catch you up later. I love you. Thank you.”

She sends flying kisses to you before hanging up. It takes you a minute to commit to it, but you get the dress out, examining it top to bottom. Yep, still skimpy. But it’ll have to do. You throw it over your body and walk towards your mirror. The reflection that looks back at you looks nothing like the sad, puffy eyed girl from last night. No, you look hot. Yes, it’s a bit short, but Lucy was right, it’s nowhere near as bad as you remember. It hugs your ass perfectly, drawing over your curves and pushing your tits upwards the right amount. There’s not much to it, just a little black dress, but you certainly do bring it to life. You throw a pair of heels on, cursing them the moment you feel the way it arches your feet in an inhumane way, and brave yourself up for the night.

When you leave your room, Jungkook’s jaw drops. It drops in such a visible manner that he has to collect himself and close his mouth before he makes a fool out of himself. It’s your face he fixates on first. He tries to wrap his brain around what it is that makes you look so different, yet still beautiful in the way he’s so very used to when it comes to you. It’s your eyes, he thinks. The dark eyeshadow you’ve smudged on them in such a subtle but notable way. It makes your eyes big and bright but they make your gaze fall a little bit, making him feel things in the pit of his stomach. Then his own eyes scan down, taking their time to take in your body. Your dress looks painted on and his breath hitches in his throat, letting him know it was gonna be a long night if this is what one minute of you in this dress was doing to him. But what resounds the loudest in his head is that, simply put, you looked beautiful, taking up the entire meaning of the word.

“I’m ready,” you say, letting your arms awkwardly fall next to your body, giving him a tight lipped smile.

Soori’s enthralled by an episode of Bluey that plays on your TV screen, and so Jungkook walks over to you, granting himself the luxury to simply perceive you and enjoy the view. He smiles, and though he doesn’t mean to, it’s seductive. It makes your tummy flutter, the ever so evident butterflies that never seem to leave.

“Fuck dinner.” He stands in front of you, leaving you wide eyed and your mouth agape at his words.

“Language,” you say, looking over at Soori.

“She doesn’t care about us right now, trust me,” he says, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you closer to him. “You,” his hand travels down your lower back, tempting to go lower but he stops himself, “look so beautiful.”

“Thanks,” your words are soft as you smile at him, wrapping your hands around his neck, letting his attention warm you all over.

One of his hands travels up, landing on your cheek, gently cupping the side of your face and you close your eyes, letting the weight of your head fall into it. His thumb brushes your skin and just as you’re about to wish for it, he puts his lips on yours. He hums against them, taking his time, tasting you, letting your smell hit his senses until all he can think about is you. His tongue parts your lips, deepening the kiss as he flushes his chest to yours. You can’t fight it. You can’t deny him, you can’t even remember why it is that you were trying to just a couple of seconds ago. In between kisses and touch, you submit to him.

He pulls away, looking into your eyes before he says, “see? I don’t need dinner. That was a great entree.”

You laugh, playfully hitting his chest. “You do have a tongue on you, that’s for sure.”

Your words aren’t meant to come off the way they do. Your intentions are a play on words to let him know he was being witty to get his way, but alas, they have him raising his eyebrows at you, a smirk adorning his lips.

“Oh,” is all he says.

“No, I mean,” you stall on your words, mind already transfixed on the other truth to your statement. “Because that was clever. What you said,” you stutter, “you get me.”

“Sure,” he says, nodding his head and pouting his lips, making you laugh and roll your eyes.

“Well, it should be a quick dinner,” he says, letting go of you. “I’m already half full.”

“See? That's what I meant with the- the tongue thing.”

He hums, taking one last look at you before walking over to Soori, her mouth open as she focuses on her show. “Don’t hate me, please,” he says, as he picks her up from the couch and turns the TV off. She cries and you laugh a little at the way he apologizes to her over and over again.

“Aw, Soo Soo,” you coo at her, and when she sees you, she throws herself into your arms, hiding between your neck as soft whines leave her mouth in expert crocodile tears.

Jungkook chuckles at the scene before him, but in a matter of seconds the image hits him like a ton of bricks. The way you hold her, beautiful as ever as you fix the skirt of her blue dress, fingers brushing through her hair, careful not to ruin the pigtails and bows you’d carefully perfected as you got her ready.

It’s picture perfect, he thinks. A sight he could get used to.

“Welcome back to La Mélodie, Mr Jeon,” a sweet voice trapped in a 6 foot, long legged, blonde haired body greets you at the entrance. Her voice is so sweet, in fact, that you see where the soft spot he was talking about comes from.

“Hi, Lily,” he says. “Thank you for getting us in such short notice.”

Lily.

“It’s my pleasure, Jungkook.”

Jungkook?

She smiles at Soori, who looks at her with a blank stare before she’s nuzzling her face on her dad’s chest. She then smiles at you and it takes everything in you to return the gesture so politely. Inside, you’re rolling your eyes and probably pulling a face as you imitate the way she says Jungkook emphasis on the J.

“This way,” she says, walking towards the center of the restaurant as she guides you to your table. You don’t miss the way she swings her hips as she walks, turning around ever so swiftly as she lets her long, blonde hair fall over her shoulder.

You feel insane. No, really. Jealousy is such an odd feeling. A foreign one, too. You’d never been a jealous person before – to be quite honest, it wasn’t because you were overly confident or uninterested. It was simply because you didn’t notice. You didn’t notice if someone was a “threat” or had bad intentions. Or perhaps deep down, you never truly cared. Oftentimes, it was Lucy that had to alert you on these things, pointing out how it was right there, under your nose! But you failed to see it every time. Not anymore, though. It’s clear as day and it stands right in front of you wearing very dark red lipstick.

You can feel Lily’s eyes on you as Jungkook opens the chair for you, and she disguises her vitriol with a smile as you sit down. He puts Soori in her high chair and finally sits down himself. He smiles at her, thanking her again and she winks at him. Yes, winks. Your mouth drops, quite literally. Her action is so bold it’s almost admirable in your eyes. You wonder if you could ever be such a go-getter, even if it made you vicious.

He shifts uncomfortably on his seat, looking up at you and not missing the shock that laces your face. He wonders if he should say something, but before he can come up with anything of substance, the waiter is by the table.

“Mr. Jeon,” he bows his head politely, “and Miss…”

You stare at him in confusion, opting for giving him your name.

“___.”

“Miss ___,” he says, and you smile. You don’t see this, but Jungkook smiles in endearment, hand in a fist over his mouth as he covers his chuckle with a cough.

As the waiter recites the magic behind their seasonal menu, the main ingredients they’re using this month, and today’s specialties, Jungkook looks around him. He recognizes a couple of faces and doesn’t miss the way their eyes take in the scene, dancing from him to you, and then Soori, in confusion. It suddenly dawns on him that you don’t quite look like the nanny tonight. Not that he owes any of these people an explanation, or that he cares about what they think, or what they’ll say. He’s very much past that, and has never lingered too much on it, anyway. But the more their faces turn from shock to plain confusion, the more he realizes that it’s only been a couple of months – three, to be exact – since Ira left. He wishes he didn’t, but he understands the shocked expressions. He understands why they must be thinking what they must be thinking.

His eyes land on you, fixating on the way you gently nod as you smile to the waiter, listening to him intently. The sight of you alone makes him think, to hell with what they think. The waiter says he’ll give you a minute to look over the menu, and Jungkook orders a bottle of his favorite white wine. He’d go for red on nights like these, but he knows you prefer light, sweet flavors and so he caters to you, without you even knowing.

“Are you happy,” you ask, a smile on your face as your eyes meet his.

“Very much.”

“You know, I know I said it yesterday, before our little… altercation,” he smiles, remembering the acts that took place in his kitchen. “But it’s all quite unreal to me. And I truly am in awe of… you.”

“I’m in awe of you.” There’s no hesitation in his words.

You shy. “Stop.”

“Why?”

“This night is about you. To celebrate you.”

“Exactly,” he says, “so let me do as I please.”

“Okay,” is all you say, because his soft demeanor and flattery are going straight to your head, looking past your heart that still breaks.

“On that topic,” he begins, crossing his hands over the table, “I want to head to our beach house this weekend.”

What is it with rich people and beach houses? Do they all have one?

“That sounds nice… you can rest and relax. Recover from the week and all.”

“Yeah. I want everyone to come,” he refers to his friends. “Jin and Seulgi already confirmed.”

“That sounds wonderful, Kook.” You’re kind of grateful he’s going to be away this weekend, so you don’t have to make up excuses to avoid him and you can bed rot in peace.

“Yeah. I’m excited. I wanna go sailing and we can grill every night,” he says.

“Hm,” you nod, smiling. You think of all the TV shows you’ve been wanting to start, pondering over the list to pick a winner.

“We leave Saturday morning.”

“Great!” You think of pizza and brownie fudge Ben & Jerry's.

“And don’t worry, we’re not taking the plane.”

You laugh. And then you get it.

“Huh?”

He’s equally as confused. “What?”

“The plane?”

“Yeah. You were kinda scared the last time. Plus, it’s only two hours by car.”

“I’m going?”

“Uh- yeah? I mean- I know book club is on summer break for the next three weeks so I thought- but if you’re busy or something,” he doesn’t know what to say anymore so he just lets his last words linger.

“Oh,” I mean, you are his nanny. Isn’t it expected for you to go to these things? Just like you did the last time. He’s about to say something else, but you interrupt him, “sure.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

He smiles as he nods at you, but it’s an uncertain smile. Like he doesn’t quite know what just happened. Soori calls you guys’ attention when she slams her plushie against the table, giggling as she plays, letting her imagination take over. Jungkook runs his hand over her head.

“I’m excited to spend time with her. I’ve missed her this week.”

“She missed you, too. It’s gonna be good for the two of you to spend time together.”

“I’m excited to spend time with-”

“Would you like to taste the wine, Mr Jeon?”

With you, is what Jungkook was going to say, before the waiter interrupted. Not that he’s to blame. If anything, Jungkook is.

“Yes, thank you.”

The wine is good. Excellent, even. Like nothing you’ve tasted before. It’s sweet and fruity, but very light. You’re very much used to cheap liqueur and even cheaper wine, so getting to jump to the other side and try the other extremes is nice for a change. The whole night pans out like that – pleasant and delicious. The food, the wine, the dessert. You talk, swoon over Soori. At one point you ask something that makes Jungkook dive into a more elaborate explanation of what his job consists of. You let him speak, mostly because you’re interested, partly because you’re too exhausted to say anything of substance yourself.

Lily brings over the bill, and you can hear the clinking of her heels from a mile away. She smiles as she walks over to the table, even before Jungkook acknowledges her. She’s ready to pounce.

“How was everything?”

“Delicious as always, please do congratulate the chef for me.”

“I’m sure he’d love to hear it from you. Don’t you wanna stop by the kitchen before you head out?”

Gasp. She is so bold. God, does she fear nothing?

Jungkook laughs, awkwardly, as he signs the check. “I’m afraid we have to get going, this little one’s past bedtime.”

“Aw,” she says, and it’s not directed at Soori, no. It’s disappointment that’s so evident in her voice. “But it was so fun the last time.”

Last time, you almost say. Quite frankly, for a second you think the words have left you, because both their eyes are on you. Lily’s are laced with twisted pride, and Jungkook’s are apologetic.

“Thank you, again, Lily,” is all he says.

“My pleasure, Jungkook.” She bats her eyelashes at him, a saccharine smile she throws his way before she’s turning around and making her grand exit.

You stare at Jungkook, watching as he reaches for his glass of water, taking a big sip, gulping loudly.

“What happened the last time that was so fun?”

“Nothing,” he says, bringing the glass back to the table a little sternly. “I know the chef. He’s helped me recruit a couple of chefs for The West End. That’s all.”

“Ah,” is all you say.

“I don’t know what that was about. She wasn’t even- I mean, she was there, but it was mostly him and I speaking. She’s his niece.”

“I see.”

“Baby,” he says, nearly whines.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry, I’m just tired. I’m probably just irritable because of that,” you mask your jealousy with a chuckle.

Jungkook reaches across the table, wrapping his hand around yours. You wince a little, looking around you, feeling slightly exposed.

“Hey,” he says. “Look at me.”

“Yes.”

He laughs at your sudden nervousness. “Stay with me tonight?”

“But Mrs Chae-”

“I gave her the day off. I’m going late into the office tomorrow. We can sleep in a little bit. I want you to stay. Please?”

Your heart begs you to at least think about it for a second. A split second, even! But the efforts are unsuccessful, and you don’t hesitate when you say,

“Okay.”

Jungkook’s shower is your favorite place in the world.

Well, perhaps that’s a bit dramatic.

Or perhaps it’s completely understandable, all things considered. You remember when there was a time you didn’t believe in shower sex. Not because you didn’t think it was real, but because you couldn’t believe people actually enjoyed it. There was nothing to enjoy about it, in your humble opinion. And humble it was, because these four walls can testify about the way you became a woman of faith the moment you experienced what you liked to call premium shower sex.

You let the water cascade from your head down your body, relaxing your muscles as the massage jets hit just where you need them the most. Jungkook was putting Soori to bed and he’d suggested you take a shower in the meantime. And so here you were, contemplating. You think of staying here, waiting until he’s back, letting him get in the shower with you. Letting him do whatever he wants to you, really. That’s the truth of it all.

But you don’t. You don’t because you try to be reasonable. Sex won’t solve this, if last night is to tell. And boy, was it loud and clear. So you get out, enjoying a couple extra minutes running his warm, fluffy towels over your body, brushing your hair, doing your skincare with his fancy products and spending way too much time, yet again, picking a shirt to sleep in. You opt for a simple Calvin Klein tee, pleased at the softness.

When he makes his way to the room, you’re already in bed, Sense and Sensibility in hand as you read. He stops, taking you in before you can see him. He thanks the universe for making his dreams from last weekend come true. You smile at him, eyes following his steps as he comes to your side of the bed, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m gonna shower, won’t be too long.”

“Enjoy,” you say.

He turns around, about to make his way to the bathroom but before he can get far enough he’s turning back, walking towards you again. You look up, stars on your eyes is what Jungkook can swear he sees.

“Thank you for staying. And for coming to dinner. That,” he pauses and you hear the hint of nervousness that takes on his tone of voice, “was good. I mean, that meant a lot to me, is what I’m trying to say.”

“Of course, Kook.”

He kisses you. It’s short and sweet, leaves you craving more as your lips feel his absence right away.

The minute he’s out of sight, your heart sends a question shooting straight at your brain. It’s aggressive and angry.

What are you doing?

Its simplicity holds deception. The simple answer would keep the whole thing contextual: he wants you to be here, he asked you to be here. You celebrated an important night with him and now you’re in his bed because isn’t that what you do? The last words get your heart going, beating faster with complexity. It says, no! It is not what you do. Or perhaps it’s what you do with your boyfriend, which he is not, by the way. Your own cruel words make you wince. Your heart opts for a softer approach, simply reminding you that you’re not doing yourself any favors. That playing house with the person that has made you question pretty much everything about both life and love in the past couple of weeks isn’t the best way to make sound decisions. That with every kiss you’re reminded of why you love him, and with every kiss he reminds you that perhaps to him, it’s just a kiss. A kiss that holds affection, sure. But not a kiss that holds love. Your incessant thinking makes you wonder if what you ask for isn’t too much. You wonder if it makes sense to want him to love you the way you did him. You couldn't ask that of him, at the end of the day. You couldn’t ask that of anyone.

Sense and Sensibility is long forgotten, your brain too loud to make sense of the words you read. You turn to your side, cozying up against the pillows. You try to close your eyes but every time you do the images that play in your head are somewhat crazier than your thoughts. You toss and turn and simply opt for keeping a soft gaze towards the ceiling, focusing on your breath and trying to remember what Lucy’s meditation tapes you can sometimes hear in the mornings say.

“You okay,” you hear Jungkook ask before you can see him. He chuckles at the sight of you.

He walks closer to the bed, one towel wrapped very low around his hips as he runs another through his hair, drying it. Little droplets falling over his body, making it glisten. You let yourself stare at him because the sight alone leaves you slightly speechless. You’re not proud of it, but another part of your body pitches in on your heart’s debate and says, this is why.

“Yeah,” you finally muster the words, “can’t sleep that’s all.”

”Mm, yeah. That happens to me when I’m really tired sometimes. Bit weird, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, makes no sense.”

“It’s okay, just try to relax, baby.” His knee hits the mattress, hair towel discarded to the side as he makes his way to you.

“Y-yeah, I’m trying,” your eyes follow his every move as he gets closer.

His hands rest at your knees before he says, “I like this on you, by the way,” eyes zeroing in on his shirt.

“It’s comfy,” you say, eyes closing at the feel of his fingers gently roaming down your legs.

“Keep it, baby.”

“No, I like it on you more.”

He laughs. “It’s okay, I have plenty.”

He opens your legs, inching closer before he lets himself gently fall on top of you. Your fingers thread through his wet hair, pushing it back.

“I’m having the best night ever,” he says, playful eyes on yours as you both laugh.

“You must be easy to please,” you say.

“Depends on who’s doing the pleasing,” he watches the way your gaze flutters before your eyes close at the anticipation of his lips on yours. And when he finally kisses you, you both sigh, falling into it. It’s slow, just allowing your lips to lazily move against one another’s. You run your fingers through his hair, nails softly running down his scalp and it makes him groan in satisfaction. You push your body further down into the mattress, letting your legs fall open as Jungkook settles better between them. A moan escapes your lips as the motion has him pressing his cock into you.

“Kook, I’m really tired, I don’t think I’ll handle it.”

He shakes his head, kissing you again. He doesn’t pull away as he says, “no. I want to make you feel good, baby. You don’t have to do anything.” He looks at you, eyes closing in pleasure when he pushes his hips against yours. “Please?”

You nod, a little caught in the feeling. “Okay.”

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

“Jungkook,” you say, turning your face away from him in a timidness that he finds so endearing.

“Don’t ask me to stop saying it because I won’t,” he says, fingers finding your chin and turning your face to him again. He pecks your lips before he says, “fucking gorgeous.” You laugh, and he likes the sound of it and so he feathers kisses all over your face, down your neck where he knows it tickles, rejoicing on the way you giggle as you try to push him away. It’s hard for Jungkook to choose between the sweet sound of your laughter, or the way you moan when the last kiss he places against your neck ends with a tiny suckle.

“Can I taste you, baby?” His voice is deep, right on your ear, sending goosebumps down your spine.

“Please,” and he loves the airiness the word has on your mouth.

His kisses on your neck grow deeper, enticed by your moans and the way you pull at his hair, soft and hard. His mouth begins to travel down, letting his hands roam all over your body at a leisurely pace. He loves it when he can go slow, take his time, make pit stops on the parts of your body he loves the most. He loves your lips, and so he kisses them, snaking a hand down your shirt and cupping at your tits, drawing circles on your nipple with his thumb, making you squirm. You feel him smirk against your lips, always getting a little cocky at how well he can pull at your strings until pleasure is the only thing you can think of.

He pushes the soft material of your shirt away, lips kissing down your chest until they’re closing around your nipple. A throaty moan leaves you and you circle your hips, making Jungkook hiss as his cock jumps from the contact alone. But he doesn’t want to focus on his immediate pleasure, no. He wants tonight to be about you. He wants to take his time with you – make you feel so good your body has no choice but to sleep the overwhelm off.

His tongue plays with your nipple, in an ever so slow pace that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. He lets his free hand touch all over your body, down your waist, squeezing your hips, nails scraping slightly at your thigh. He looks up at you, eyes meeting your hazy ones as he sucks on your nipple, biting gently when your fingers get tangled in his dark locks. He moves his hand closer to where you need him the most, tentative little touches that have you clenching in mere anticipation.

“No teasing,” you warn.

“No fun,” he says, pouting before he’s biting your nipple again.

But Jungkook just wants to make you feel good. He wants to give you what you want, he wants to hear you and feel you, and the thought of his tongue on your heat has him nearly salivating. And so he complies. You sigh when he presses his middle and ring finger against your clothed clit, tiny little circles that have you leaking in no time. He feels it, fingers dampening against the cotton of your underwear as his mouth kisses down your torso, leaving a wet trail on your tummy that makes you feel electric the moment he pulls away. His fingers hook inside the side of your panties, his touch soft. Too soft.

“Take them off,” you say, no edge to your voice.

He does just that, pulling away for a second to roll the tiny fabric off your legs before he’s back on his tummy, between your legs, one of his own bent slightly as he gets comfortable. You find it so lewd – the way he enjoys this. The way he enjoys it when his eyes zero in on your cunt, glistening for him.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” and his eyes never leave, following his index finger as it parts your slit. A low, controlled moan leaves his lips when he sees how wet you make his finger, how you leak for him. The tip touches at your clit, making you gasp before you’re letting out a moan. “And so sensitive, baby.”

You’re a bit delirious but you manage to look at him as you nod, your voice so shaky when you say, “I need you- it’s been a while since I’ve had your mouth.”

His thumb circles your clit. “You’ll get my mouth, baby. But I just wanna see you for a little longer, ‘kay?” You nod again. “Prettiest fucking pussy.”

You’re about to shy away from his words but he wastes no time, pushing a finger inside of you, making you groan as your head hits the pillow. He tests the water, feels how tight you get around him, thumb still working your clit as he pushes a second one in. He pays attention to your moans, the jerk of your hips, his eyes never leaving you as you roll your lips between your teeth, arm hovering over your head before you’re hiding underneath it.

“Look at me, ___.”

You do, eyes threatening to close as he picks up his pace, hitting that spot inside of you continuously, expertly matching your breath with each push and pull.

“Fuck, I’m so close already,” you whine, closing your eyes for a second.

“Want my tongue, baby?”

“Fuck, Jungkook, please,” you plead, gasping when his index and middle finger press on your g-spot, tiny little movements against it. “Please.”

“I will, baby. God, how can I not?” His lips close around your clit, making you moan in sweet satisfaction. “You ask so nicely- fuck, ___, you taste so good, baby.”

Jungkook is growing delirious, too, struggling to keep his own pleasure at bay, hips rutting against the mattress as he places little rhythmic suckles against your clit. You look down at him, eyes meeting his and he smiles. It’s dirty, bordering on obscene, but you love it. You love how much he loves making you feel good.

“Like that, Kook,” you whisper, “shit, don’t stop.”

His tongue parts your folds, teasing your hole before he’s lapping at your pussy, spitting on it before his ministrations are back on your clit, sucking, licking, circling. You’re so wet, and so close, you can’t quite make out his actions. All you know is the white, warm feeling that takes over your body, making you a little lightheaded. His fingers push inside of you once again, making you clench around them, mouth parting in shock and pleasure.

Jungkook hums against your pussy, eyes closing at the feel of you. “You’re so close, baby. Want me to make you cum?”

And the question alone could do it for you – in fact, you have to take a second to concentrate on not letting go. There’s something so fucking divine about him knowing exactly where he’s got you at. You nod, one airy, “please,” and that’s all he needs to finish you off. His fingers don’t go faster, but they go harder. His tongue focuses on your clit, silky flesh lapping determinedly at your nub, sucking on it when your legs begin to shake.

“Oh, fuck- Jungkook,” you cum with his name on your tongue, letting out a little cry when you feel him moan against your pussy at the sound of his name. It’s too much, the way your muscles contract and then release, but you can’t get enough of it. “Don’t stop, Kook, please.”

He doesn’t. He milks you with his fingers, feeling the way you leak down his wrists, making a mess out of his mouth as you pull at his hair, nails digging on his scalp. You cum on his tongue, and you come down on it, too, letting yourself fall into him so quickly that the over-sensitivity has you pushing his head away with shaky hands.

“Oh my fucking God.” You drop your head to the pillow behind you, hands covering your eyes as you try to regain your breath. Jungkook just stares at you, head resting on your inner thigh, smiling and drunk on you. He feathers one single kiss on the soft skin of your leg, and your body jumps a little, making him let out a boyish chuckle that makes your heart beat steadfast. You laugh, too.

You let a couple of minutes linger on, the two of you sharing the same pillow, just laying in bed. You take a while to come back to your body and when you finally do, the exhaustion takes over.

“Come here,” you tell him, and he obliges, body flushed on top of yours once again. Your hand travels down, feeling how hard he is. He hisses, his own hand closing around yours before he’s shaking his head. “Why? You’re so hard.”

“You’re tired. I just wanted to make you feel good. I’m okay, baby. More than okay, actually.”

“But,” you say, confusion lacing your words.

“Tomorrow. You need rest. I think I’ve succeeded at making you sleepy,” he laughs.

“Fuck, you really did.”

He lays back next to you, a sigh passing his lips before his head turns, meeting your eyes.

“You know, you were right,” he says.

“What about?”

His smirk gives him away before his words can.

“I do have quite a tongue on me.”

★taglist★

@roro-in-utopia @yiyi4657 @littlrmills14-blog @namjooningelsewhere@drownforryou @iwanttohitmyself @finelinememories @yukiehyukie@shatzkrinslinzki @bts-fic-recs-mess @kokoandkookie @subtlepjiminie@hobipost @kookiesbreaky @di0rgguk @bloopkook @babyrosieareroses@kookiecrumb @casspirit0705 @eclectictacozinewobbler @tickledpink55@rjsmochii @dimcorner @miniiimee @vintageroses10 @amyniu @tessxblxckthorn@emotionaltrashcansblog @fangirl125reader @laurynne5 @thickgrinch@dianaxnyc @ruinsofangels @berryonasummerevening @taeslarityy@hisunshiine @preciouschiminie @ruclements @galaxyflab @jalexad@missseoulite @bangtannoonalvg @kootonins @lustremyg @kissme-ornot@92thk @everythingaboutfangirling @cakecobain @callmejimmeo @simp4tae@landl7xoxo @jungjoonie @sanfransolomitatm @khadeeeeej @mar-lo-pap @nanjeonlangakook

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tastesousweet · 9 months

Text

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (i)

grumpy!matt sturniolo x sunshine!fem oc / reader

summary : matt is a grumpy tattoo artist and y/n books him for her first tattoo.

warnings : needles and pain (not very detailed tho)

mickey speaks : i don't have any tattoos so i actually know nothing ab the procedure lmaooo just guessing but i’ll be writing multiple parts for this. also i am very much self indulging bc i headcannon y/n as poc! but obvi anyone can read there's not much exclusivity ab how i write her, i js wanted to note that for any poc readers <3.

THIS IS PART 1 BTW!!!!

“SHITTT,” you draw out the last syllable at the rumble and screech of your car engine as you continue your attempt to start it.

eventually you throw your head backwards in defeat, annoyed by the unbudging car. this is the actual worst timing. you're supposed to be at the tattoo shop (that is a 12 minute drive from your apartment complex) for an appointment in less than twenty minutes.

you truly want to scream and border on throwing a tantrum but decide it would probably be better to find a solution than complain about the agony further.

you quickly find your roommate's contact, raising your phone to your ear and pinching your eyes shut as the vibrating ring hums through your skull.

"y/n? what's up?" andrea answers confused as you had only just walked out of the door five minutes ago.

"hi drea... so i know you have your own plans right now but is there any way you can give me a ride... please?"

you hear shuffling on the line, "mmm, where to?"

౨ৎ

“thank you again for driving me,” you smile at andrea and squeeze her hand before reaching for the door.

“yes, of course. you can call me when you’re done and i’ll head over here- m’sorry i can’t stay with you.” she replies and exaggerates a frown.

"i'll be fine, i think- i hope..."

"you will be fine. just don't stress or it'll hurt more."

౨ৎ

your arms are crossed tightly over your chest as you make your way into the shop (in its form of an oversized warehouse, fixed up to look stylish and comfortable- something you’d never really seen before). the rickety jingle of a small bell kindly indicates your presence to the rest of the shop.

a few people sitting in a waiting area look up before continuing their conversations (though some continued to stare as you walk by). you see a surprising amount of people crowding in a brightly decorated lounge area, housing many arcade games and a kitchenette.

you reach the receptionist desk and are greeted by a young man dressed casually, humming along to the music playing in the background of the space.

“um, hi. i’m here for my 1:30 appointment.” you state with a smile, you’re suddenly aware of how nervous you truly are.

the brunette looks over to a desktop screen with a soft scrunch of his face, “for y/n, right? huh, that’s crazy…” he rubs his chin, “1:30 was like nine minutes ago,” he looks up at you, almost like he was questioning you; who do you think you are? and why do you think you’re important enough to be late?

as soon as your face begins to morph into fear and embarrassment his own face splits into a large smile as he laughs softly. “i’m sorry- i’m such an ass but i had to- your file said you’re new clientele so i just had to fuck around.”

“you’re sick! i was fully prepared for a fucking lecture on timeliness or something,” you let out a soft laugh.

the boy comes from around the desk holding a paper and clipboard. “yeah, sorry, i’m chris,” he reaches a hand out to which you willingly return and restate your name to him, “‘m not usually up front so you probably talked to asha over the phone when booking.”

you nod and smile at the familiar name, “yeah, she was so helpful over the phone.”

“she’s awesome, i miss her,” he touches each of his shoulders then forehead before kissing his hand and pointing to the sky.

"oh my god? i'm sorry for your loss."

his eyes squint and lips pucker in confusion, "oh, she's not fired she's just on vacation right now."

"so why'd you...?"

chris cuts you off by handing you the clipboard and grabbing a pen from a cluttered mason jar on the desk as he explains, “okay, we’re just gonna have you fill out this quick consultation form; just so you and your artist will be on the same page about things.” you nod in understanding. “keep it brief, matt’s not big on reading large bodies of text,” chris laughs.

“got it,” you smile before turning to find a chair and begin writing. you truly were relieved that chris wasn’t hard on you about being late, for a second you thought you would be lectured and have to carry the guilt of dissapointing someone into a room where you'd be paying to lie in excruciating physical pain. (damn, double homecide)

the sheet had general information to fill before the questions specifically about the tattoo you’d be getting today came.

you go back up to chris once you’re finished.

“cool, follow me we’ll set you up with matt.” he leads the way and your nerves are suddenly back as it's feeling more and more real with each step. you pacify your thoughts by looking around at the many images and messages written in sharpie along the walls of the hallway. there's also plenty of hanging shelves around with vintage trinkets and succulents that compliment the space around.

chris reaches a curtain and dips his head past as if he were checking for something before giving you a chance to see. you notice the small "Matt" embroidered on the black curtain. chris then opens it wide enough for the both of you to walk into the surprisingly large space.

(who you can only assume to be) matt sits comfortably in a wheeled desk chair, legs spread. his elbow rests on the arm of the chair and he holds his head up with two of his fingers, as his middle finger grazes his irritated mouth with a stern look on his face while he scrolls on his phone.

he doesn’t move his position when he looks up at the two of you.

“alright! matt this is y/n,” chris motions between you two. matt hums, placing his phone on the desk and placing his hand out expectantly for the clipboard. chris goes to hand it to him and whispers, “fix your face, jackass,” then turning around to leave you some reassuring words, “good luck y/n, the tat’s gonna look amazing.”

but chris doesn’t see matt exaggerating a large, sarcastic smile from behind him in defense of chris’ words (he immediately drops it though). something that would make you at least giggle if you weren’t so nervous.

“thanks,” your voice is a little hoarse as you haven’t used it in some time. matt watches the boy leave before looking over to you. he rolls the chair closer, reading over your short (as requested) responses.

“you can sit down.” he forms it almost as a question like are you going to sit down or do i have to direct you to do everything?

you sit on the black cushioned bench, lined with a disposable white cloth and begin to fidget with your fingernails as matt goes over your paperwork quietly.

“''kay, so you’re getting a small hello kitty on your lower hip?” he summarizes while checking and signing a few lines on a paper.

“yeah, um, i told asha over the phone that way you could have it sketched already- she told me that’s best and saves time for the both of us.”

his response is a slowed nod and a breathy, “yep,” as he rolls over to his desk and places the clipboard on the surface before opening a drawer and digging through it.

you gaze around the room and wonder if he decorated the space himself or if he wasn’t the type to be bothered enough to add personal things to his work area. almost all the posters are of music artists or tattoos, the most personal things you see are a small picture frame on his desk and a pokémon plushie sat on a chair in the corner of the room. all of which just pose more questions in your working brain.

you notice him switching to a different swivel chair that is lower to the ground and bringing himself (as well as a moving table with already prepared supplies) closer to you.

you’re nervous again. even after your roommate and older brother have both given you advice on first tattoos and the pain expected you’re still finding yourself scared of what to expect. your ear piercings would have nothing on this.

“first tattoo?” matt clarifies, as if he could read your mind. you nod and go to speak but stop when he gestures for you to lay back on the cushion.

you’re sure that he only was searching for a quick confirmation from you and is not too interested in your life or what brings you here but you’ve found that talking relieves your own stress and you absolutely cannot just lay there and only speak when spoken to.

“yeah, i guess m’nervous. i just hope i don’t, like, die from pain or hate the outcome or curse myself in a couple years for the placement- but it's not that i'm doubting that it'd be cute. younger me would be screaming at the fact that i'm even here..." you pause just for a second. "but then again i'm not sure how much forty year old me will appreciate it. so i guess i just don’t know. you know?”

you lean yourself up to get a look at matt, only to realize he has airpods in and simply has not been listening or interested in you (just as you expected). he’s moving his head the smallest amount to the beat as he works on his sketch.

he notices your movement though and takes a headphone out of his ear, “are you okay?” is all he asks.

a pretty broad question. and an anxiety inducing question to ask a girl who's been questioning her decisions as much as you have. you hope you’re okay. will you still be okay when this (mostly) permanent decision is etched into your skin forever? is he okay? will he give you any sense of encouragement or comfort during this process? are tattoo artists typically like this or are you just considered especially needy clientele?

“yeah, i just was- like, curious, i guess.” you mumble a little and internally hate that you feel so insecure in this situation. so out of control.

“was just adjusting my sketch to be a smaller. nothing crazy happening over here.” he shrugs. “you can go ahead and pull your shirt up, though. i’m just gonna clean the area and prep before inking.” he explains to you very straight and to the point.

you fall back into place and obey, inching your shirt up further to expose your lower stomach. you drape your arms over your face to gain composure as you hear matt rip some packaging.

the coolness of the cleaning pad sends your stomach butterflies and you try to not think too hard about the fact that matt’s hands will be on your lower stomach and hip for a good length of time.

eventually matt speaks to you again, “i’m starting so if you’re feeling the need to get the fuck out you gotta do it now or for forever hold your peace.”

you smile a little at his dry joke but when you turn your head to see him fully serious you blink, “no, i’ll be fine. thanks though.”

he just nods his head and goes to put his airpods back in before you’re interrupting again, “wait. whatcha listening to?”

he’s suprised by the question. his clients rarely get too involved in what he’s doing. mostly because he does a great fucking job no matter how few words he may utter over an entire session. there's a mutual understanding there that he's never had to speak up about to anyone. other artists use a strong bond or charisma to secure returning customers but matt finds there’s nothing better to display than his pure talent and passion for his craft. that’s how he keeps clients. they ask and he will always deliver; and that’s how he particularly likes it. no questions and minimal conversation.

the sound of the tattoo gun begins and just for your sake he decides to answer the question without malice, “just some frank ocean instrumental tracks." he places his hands back onto your skin, "don’t start moving.”

you pinch your eyes shut and squeeze your forearms as soon as the initial pain takes over. it’s a feeling you can only describe as a needle poking into you a trillion times at once. which is literally what's happening to you.

you’re not oblivious to matt’s disengagement with your attempts at conversation but you need him to continue to speak to you or else you’ll think too much about the needle actively puncturing you. “oh yeah? i’ve never listened to him before…”

“surprising. he’s pretty big.” matt mumbles slightly, focusing on his work far more than his slight interest in your knowledge of frank ocean.

“mhm. i’ve been meaning to give him a listen. could you share?”

matt’s eyes just move to look up at your face as he tries not to beg you to just be quiet and let him do this so that you both can leave within an hour. “i’m good on that.” he returns to tattooing.

“huh? you can’t share music?”

“i would prefer not to but-” he doesn’t even know why he’s continuing to fuel this anymore.

“what if i add a pretty,” you pause to wince a little as the needle moves lower, “pretty please?”

“i’m almost done,” he mumbles the lie.

“matt?”

he pauses for only a second to glance over to you. he’s met with a face scrunched in pain with an attempted smile that he thinks makes you look more like a doped up hippie than the cute effect you were going for. you plead after his glance, “pretty please?”

he rolls his eyes and sets his tattoo gun down, reluctantly swiveling over to his desk. before you even realize what exactly he’s doing there’s a airy beat of drums and piano playing from a small speaker in the room.

once he's back over to you he can tell you’re smiling even though your face is mostly covered by your arms. “thank you, i needed a distraction or something.”

he mumbles an “mhm” and returns to his work.

౨ৎ

there was generally no talking after that. only a few moments you observed (due to your need to cling on to literally anything going on besides the pinching at your lower side) that were any indication of matt's quiet presence. you noticed when matt would softly hum the lyrics to the instrumentals over the speaker and when you began to tap your fingers out of boredom and nerves, to which he simply placed his hand over them to force them flat while muttering a small “stop.”

when matt was completely finished he asked you if he could take a picture to add to his instagram and you agreed eagerly. he then added a strip of tattoo film over a layer of protective ointment. after he helped you to fully stand he explained how to care for it and how important cleaning is because “that shit will get gunky as fuck.” and you told him that you promise to do everything he said. he also gave you a detailed list on a card for you to follow just in case you forget.

you glance down at your tattoo one last time before you begin to leave the room you’d just spent a lengthy hour of your life in. you assume matt doesn’t want much else from you until he calls your name from his desk. you turn and see him still looking at his phone before glancing up, “uh, what’s your insta handle, so i can tag you in this?”

you don’t know why you’re surprised but you are.

you agree to exchange handles with him before deciding to compliment him once more, “my tattoo is perfect, by the way. i love it so much, thank you.” you want to tell him that you hope you didn’t annoy him too much but you don’t know if that will annoy him more. so you take his nod and hint of a smile as his way of showing appreciation, keeping your own smile bright to mask the crushing feeling of someone seeming so indifferent towards you.

after walking past the curtain and through the trinket-filled hallway you’re back to the main area of the warehouse. you see a different collection of people gathered playing pool and some more huddled on a couch looking at a girl’s phone in awe. chris is busy talking with what seems to be a close friend when you walk up to the reception desk.

when his eyes find your bright expression he’s bouncing back with energy, “hey! i’m assuming it went well?" he asks.

"very well. glad it's over though, i can't lie." you laugh while taking your debit card from your purse.

"yeah, definitely not the best feeling. especially when matt's ugly face is that close to you." chris jokes and takes your card to cash you out.

you laugh along with him but assure him that matt's looks weren't an issue. he raises his eyebrows and has a growing smirk that travels to his eyes when he gives you your card back. you try not the blush at the implication, "i didn't mean it like that."

"right," he nods and chuckles softly, "well hopefully you'll be back for another eventually?" he hands you a receipt.

"i mean how could i not with such a sweet receptionist asking me? i'm sure you get everyone to come back," you joke.

chris shrugs with a cocky grin, "somethin' like that."

౨ৎ

"oh my god it's fucking adorable, what?!" andrea exclaims with a spoonful of frozen yogurt still in her mouth.

she initally begged to see it as soon as she picked you up but you dramatically told her you had just experienced the worst pain of your life and you'd need a sweet treat if you were planning to not sleep the rest of the day away. so she just rolled her eyes and demanded you show her once you both arrive at your favorite frozen yogurt shop (conveniently down the street from your apartment complex).

"i knowww," you respond and quickly pull the lower part of your shirt down with a smile, taking a seat across from drea.

"how'd it go, though? i'm curious. i've only been to warehouse 79 like once, and it was for an event."

"it was good, they were all generally kind and my guy did exactly what i wanted. i'm pretty happy."

"'my guy,' oh okayy?" she takes a bite and smirks.

"not what i meant! i should have just said matt. like, the guy who did my tattoo-"

"mhmm."

"stop.” you smirk, “i mean he was not ugly by any means but he seemed to not care to get to know me at all. which is fine, he's not paid to care about me. but i doubt i'll ever see him again." you shrug taking another bite of frozen yogurt.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

#this took way too long #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets fan fiction #sturniolo triplets smut #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #tattoo matt n yn

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ekpriyasi · 10 months

Text

𝗡𝗘𝗖𝗞 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 : jungkook x reader

𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: yandere, best friend to lover, jungkook is a hotty, angst

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: oc is sad and lonely

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 : He loves bieng my friend ,but he has girlfriend who he loves ....could this possibly change him from your close friend to a distant person .. And 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵

𝗮/𝗻 :omg, this is my first fic here, I don't know how to feel.jungkook is kindy fucked up here but gonna be good soon.. Sorry english is not my first language so correct me if there is any mistake ,I hope you enjoy. , lob ❤

𝘔𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘣𝘰𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺... 𝘉y lovely @xonga ..

------------------☆♡☆♡☆♡☆---------------

The purest form of love is consideration.When someone thinks about how things would make you feel. Pays attention to detail. Holds you in regard when making decisions that could affect you. In any bond, how much they care about you can be found in how much they consider you

And as for jungkook , it was beyond clear that how much he loved you.. cause the way he considered you even in his own relationships. he loved you as a friend, a friend he cared for a lot. There was nothing more . Was it? No. You were convinced.

But today when you were staring at the ceiling considering about many possibilities. That was now making your best friend distant to you. Today was the seventh day since you last hanged out with him. He didn't cut you of completely , no would never. But the dry replies of him everyday when you wanted to know how his day was or is he doing well , made your heart twist in sadness and loneliness. The distance was uncomfortable as it was new. Never before did jungkook did anything like this. He was always communicative, always loved hanging out and being with you

And you felt empty . Yes you were his habit and he was your. Jungkook never went even two days without being in contact with you. He was touchy. It was his love language. He loved holding you close to him , keeping your legs on his laps when watching movies, keeping his hand on your knee or thighs when hanging out at your friends house ,holding hands when walking and He also had a habit ( more of obsession ) HE LOVED KISSING YOUR NECK WHEN LEAVING YOUR HOUSE, WHEN EVER HE FELT NERVOUS OR UNCOMFORTABLE. he did that literally every day without missing any day

But today was day seventh of him not touching you or kissing your neck. Your friends always used to tease you and jungkook that how you two were more intimate than friends. Some of your batchmates considered you two in relationship four years ago but now you two are not in college. You are two mature people who know their relationship is just friendship.

Jungkook had a quite few relationship back in college but no stayed more than few months because all his girlfriends were not able to take the close proximity of you two.. But with his current girlfriend. His relationship seemed quite serious. It's been a year now to relationship. His gf is pretty , nice, hot. She is all you can never be, she seems to get along with all yours and jungkook's friend. But with you case was different she rarely talked to you. Even didn't liked you being near jungkook. . And you knew one day this could be a reason for jungkook to choose between you two.... Well it looked like he chose! Not you but her.

Your eyes dart towards the mirror, hanging on the pale lilac wall of your bedroom. Photographs of the two of you are splattered around the mirror, many from childhood of just the two of you. He’s the one person who could read you like a book studied a thousand times over, edges folded from the constant turn of each page. Now it’s as if the book has lost its meaning, forgotten somewhere on a shelf in the corner, dust piled upon it as the sheets slowly deteriorate.. He turned cold .

. Back when you where teenagers. There was nothing more you wanted because you had it all good grades, a best friend and his constant comfort. So you never considered making more close friends of your. All friends you have now are all who jungkook usually hangs out with when not with you.

You never even had a boyfriend. Cause first you didn't think you needed a one, and second most of the boys liked staying alway from you as they found jungkook threatening. But now when you felt jungkook abandoning you. You somehow felt the need for a boyfriend , a lover, a partner who would be by your side and comfort you no matter what.

Okay., so now is the time for you to get laid and ignore all the emptiness you feel. Time for you to let go or even lose your virginity.......

( part 2 : -

#jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook #bts #jeon jungguk #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook fwb #jungkook x original character #bts ffs #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x oc #jungkook yandere #jungkook angst #jungkook aesthetic #jungkook au #jungkook and reader

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deathmetalangel · 3 months

Text

HARDLY SEEMS FAIR

robby keene x fem! reader

warnings: "casual" relationship", swearing, arguments, crying, heavily ldr coded, implied hookups, slut shaming, cheating, angsty

“in what world is that fair robby?"

oke so this is kinda a retconnned chapter from my wattpad book that i'm just extending and making more ambigious instead of clearly x oc. i hope y'all like it tho. i am sorry i have been gone for so long :(

Y/n plays with the ends of Robby's hair. He was laying with his head in her lap while they just relaxed in her room. It was calm, domestic. A small and very rare moment for just the two of them. No outside force would intrude and break their safe haven. There was no what if's that lingered in the air. Nor past resentments that hung over them like an ominous cloud determined to damper their moods.

It was just Y/n and Robby. And that's all they'll ever be. No labels. She figured that much after the last time she'd brought it up. But she's become so full of him she can't even bring herself to care. She'd rather have what they have now, whatever it may be with him. Rather than risking losing him, and the routine she's started to build around him.

She hums softly. Her mind far off. "Y/n?" She hymns in acknowledgement without turning her head. "Something happened this weekend."

He was lying. This had been going on for weeks. He had been having doubts for weeks. He'd been seeing her for weeks. "What happened? Another karate fight?" She wasn't the girl who got heartbroken. She was never the second choice. She got what she wanted. And she wanted him, however she could have him.

"I kissed Sam Larusso."

Y/n freezes. Her body betraying her as she tenses up. She has no right, she knows that. They were 'casual'. Just her and Robby. Non-commital.

"I mean big deal right? We were drunk anyways. Just felt bad not telling you. I know were not dating so it's really not your business, but don't worry about it. I mean we've fucked so often what does a kiss even mean?"

A kiss. To her it meant everything. An act of intimacy that they rarley ever shared. So innocent, so pure.

"Get out of my room Robby." Y/n mumbles, her voice above a whisper. The teen sits up from her lap and looks at her incredalously. He was only telling her to keep her in the loop. She didnt have the right to be mad. So why was she making a big deal about this?

"What?"

"You heard me. Get the fuck out of my room Keene."

He furrows his brows in a toxic coctail of anger and confusion. "Why? You can't get pissed at me for this Y/n. We aren't fucking dating. Don't get all aggro on me like you're some psycho girlfriend when you're a friend with benefits at best."

Y/n stands up and pushes the boy out of her room. "Get the fuck out of here Robby! If it didn't mean anything why don't you go fuck her then? Go whine about your mommy issues and daddy issues to her and leave me the hell alone."

"You have some nerve you know that right? Don't act all high and mighty now. You're a whore. Why the hell would I ever actually take you seriously when I can get everything I want without the label or work. You're easy, I could never do that shit with Sam."

Her breath was stuck in her throat as the boy she truly thought cared began to berate her as if she was a random person on the street. The boy she suffered for. The boy that was really never her's to keep. Y/n forces herself to wipe her anrgy tears and push Robby once again.

Y/n's hands were shaky, she desprately wanted to cry. To scream. To give in and give him the satisfaction of getting to her. "Oh so you can come over whenever you want, make me listen to your shitty life, and basically force yourself into my own life, but all that means nothing right? Well guess what Kenne. You kissed her, and she still doesn't want you!" She presses her finger into his chest while her voice level rises. "That same girl is still with Miguel. So just because you wanna jump ship and 'upgrade' doesn't mean she wants anything to do with you. Face it babe, you're just white trash."

"Shut the fuck up Y/n." Robby practically spits back.

"Oh, so you can disrespect me and belittle me in my own fucking room, but when its you its a problem? Grow up Robby. You're a man baby and a hypocrite. In what world is that fair Robby? Maybe in your little made up fantasy where Sam picks you and you leave me for dead. So go stay there. Cause you're sure as hell not welcome here."

Y/n throws everything he's given her at him. Every last peice a memory they shared together. Posters, drawings, braclets, anything that adorned her room. All of it thrown to him and crashing down like victims of a violent storm. Tears streamed down her face as he backed up to her door.

She opens the door for him and grabs his sweater and keys before shoving it in his chest. The boy watches her dumbfounded.

"Stay away from me Robby. Go back to some other slut that can put up with your baggage and shitty attitude for one night stand status. Because I'm done."

He looks at her, but there wasn't the girl he knew looking back at him. Not with how she glared, not with how she stood, and not with how she felt. Her eyes, the e/c irises reflected love, now they were dark. Harbors for her contempt. The grimace on her face was unforgettable. Especially as the last thing he seen before she slammed her door on his face.

Robby swallows the spit in his mouth, a hard lump of guilt not wanting to go down. He didn't think any of this would happen. He wanted her to care, but he didn't want to fight. His temper, his father's god forsaken temper, and his own damned ego.

He wanted what he had with her, with Sam. The girl next door with a rich family and big house. Like something out of a book. Not the girl that did whatever he said for the sake of making him happy. He really did want to just abandon her, didn't he? After everything.

Choking back his frustrations the boy marches down her stairs and lets himself out. He liked what he had with her, but he wouldn't fight for her. Guys only did that for the girl they want.

#deathmetalangel #robby keene x reader #robby keene #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai #the karate kid #cobra kai angst #samantha larusso #miguel diaz #imagines #cobra kai imagine

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jeonqkooks · 1 year

Text

our beloved summer | jjk (07)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, swearing, mentions of oc's mother because we know girlie is hella traumatized, mentions of drinking, mentions of an almost physical fight, abandonment issues, jk forgets to practice safe driving for 2 seconds, and uhmmm kissing 🤫, anddd that cliffhanger? 👀 rating: 18+ (minors dni) word count: 10.8k note (1): this is the longest it has taken me to update obs and i do feel pretty guilty about that. but it's finally here now and this is one of the chapters that i'm the most nervous about posting. massive thanks to @daechwitatamic and @/wintaerbaer (edited 2024: crossed out but not removed bc even tho she plagiarized obs afterward, she did beta this for me so i guess i still gotta give her that lmfao) for beta-ing this for me or else i would've screamed cried thrown up and scrapped the whole thing, and to @jeonwiixard for being a wonderful cheerleader as i was writing this, and to everyone in my beloved obs discord server for always being so sweet and kind and putting a smile on my smile every day since the server was created. also to my sunshine ☀︎ for introducing me to the song mentioned below bc HELLO is it not just one of the most obs coded songs ever. love you all my babies <3

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist join our OBS discord server ✨

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Somewhere in the multiverse There's a me and you that works We never fuck it up We're out there still in love Somewhere in the multiverse Maybe that's enough

multiverse - Maya Manuele ft. PEMRBOKE

Sometimes, whenever you look up at the moon at night, you wonder if Jungkook is doing the same thing.

Even when you fall out of love with someone, it still hurts. It hurts because you once loved them so much it felt like the sky would collapse if you couldn’t be with them. It hurts because the love wasn’t taken from you, but rather it started slipping away on its own, more and more each day until you realize you’re holding onto nothing when there once was everything.

You can’t say that you’re too familiar with that kind of hurt though. You’ve never fallen out of love before.

You don’t think Jungkook is too familiar with it either, at least not when he left you.

You wonder if he thinks about you from time to time and gets sad. You think he does, because you know that he loved you. Something ended for him too. The memories that you shared were his memories too.

You hope that it’s painful for him whenever thoughts of you cross his mind, because that would mean that he cares. That a part of him still cares.

And if he still cares, then he might come back.

Despite the front that you try to parade around, there is a part of you that will always leave your heart vacant for him, regardless of whether or not he would return. It’s a scary thought, one that you would rather avoid at all costs, one that says there will be no one that you love more than you loved Jungkook. Maybe there can’t be another person that you will love at all.

You can come back quietly, like the wind slipping through the crack I leave in the window at night; or you can announce your return resoundingly like a sudden downpour quenching the summer heat. I don’t care. I kept your side of the bed empty and warm, waiting for you to come back. Hoping that you would come home.

[08:47] Yoongi: sure you don’t want me to drive you there? [08:48] Yoongi: i can pick you up in 30 [08:52] You: positive 🤧 i told you i already booked the train. it’s only 4 hours away [08:53] You: i’ll survive, yoongs [08:55] Yoongi: did you not watch Train To Busan? [08:56] You: ? [08:57] Yoongi: what if there’s a zombie apocalypse [09:00] You: yoongi if there’s a zombie apocalypse, how is your CONVERTIBLE supposed to keep me safe [09:01] Yoongi: i’ll put the roof up [09:02] You: stop talking [09:02] You: please stop talking. [09:03] Yoongi: 😡😡😡 [09:03] You: 😇 [09:03] You: gotta get dressed now though. i’ll see u when i get back? :) [09:05] Yoongi: fine [09:06] Yoongi: safe travels. text me when you get there :)

You plop onto your bed with a sigh, glancing at the bag that’s already packed and sitting near your wardrobe, lonely. You stay like that for a while, contemplating whether or not you should bail at the very last minute.

It was not on your bingo card that you’d be here, agonizing over your ex-boyfriend’s brother’s wedding. Nope. Absolutely no one saw it coming.

For fuck’s sake, why would they invite you to a wedding? A celebration of love? It feels like you’re being forced onto a prank show, just waiting for someone to jump out and scream in your face.

You learned that the wedding was for close friends and family only, so it would be a relatively small event, which makes it even more confusing why you were also asked to join. Maybe the world is changing too rapidly and you’re just a little old-fashioned for it, but you really don’t understand why your ex-boyfriend’s family would want you there.

Taehyung and Jimin were invited too; they’re Jungkook’s best friends after all. They’re practically an extension of the family, Jungkook’s brothers by choice. But Taehyung doesn’t come back from his work trip until the day of the wedding, and Jimin… Well, he just doesn’t want to go to a Busan wedding in the middle of winter.

So why are you even going?

You could’ve declined. Said you couldn’t attend because the invitation came in so late. Made up a work trip or a family emergency. There’s a plethora of excuses you could’ve used.

Or you could’ve simply said no. That would’ve been perfectly fine too. No one would even need to ask why.

But maybe it was because his mother had customized the invite with her own handwriting in the back. You would’ve missed it if you hadn’t spent hours meticulously studying the card like someone was going to quiz you. It wasn’t anything special - just We hope to see you there - but you think you’d feel really bad to decline after she’d made the extra effort to ask you to come.

When you told Yoongi that you would be attending Jungkook’s brother’s wedding, he didn’t seem upset. Still cool as a cucumber. Although if he was bothered by the announcement, you don’t think he would’ve let it show. It did take him a minute to take it in, but then he just pecked your cheek and asked if you could bring a plus-one. You both knew that you wouldn’t even if that was an option.

Pushing your body off the bed, you drag yourself to the bathroom to splash some water on your face. Then sunscreen. Then change into the clothes you’d already picked out last night. Your train doesn’t leave for another hour and fifteen minutes, but you want to be there at least twenty minutes early just in case. This is one of your only good habits.

You rub your eyes when you finally haul yourself outside, thinking you must still be dreaming because what is Jungkook’s car doing here?

You blink a few times, expecting the vehicle to disappear in a puff of white smoke.

Spoiler alert: It doesn’t.

The car is in front of you, but the man is nowhere to be found.

You stand there dumbfoundedly, contemplating whether you should wait it out for a little bit to see if he’s actually here. He comes running up to you a couple minutes later, holding two paper cups in his hands, one of them a chai latte. A memory you’d buried long ago comes rushing to the surface. It’s too early for you to be feeling.

“Hi,” he says, his warm breath coming out in a huff of smoke in the crisp morning air.

“Hi?” you mutter dumbly when he trades the bag in your hand for the drink. There’s a moment where you’re genuinely baffled, wondering if this is a memory reel playing right before your eyes. This is your Jungkook, wearing that same old smile whenever he used to come bounding up your dorm building so you could walk to the library together, where he would hang out with you during your shift if he didn’t have classes. “What are you doing here?”

You don’t remember telling him what time your train was, so he’d probably badgered it out of Taehyung or Jimin somehow.

“I thought I could drive us there,” he says. “I texted you about it.”

Well, that explains it. You don’t bother with his dozens of messages anymore. “Oh, uhm, I already booked the train.”

This doesn’t seem to faze him at all. “Free cancellation up to 15 minutes before departure.” Jungkook grins, clearly eager despite your obvious reluctance. It’s too early for this, whatever the hell this is.

When you told him that you had RSVP’d yes to the invitation, he was surprised that you even knew about the wedding. He even seemed nervous that day.

“What if I’d already left?” you ask.

He blinks, then stammers like a confused child. It’s cute, and you have to mentally slap yourself over the head for even thinking that.

“Then I’d go after you.”

How? you scoff internally. Unrealistic.

Regardless, not even an hour ago, you were declining Yoongi’s offer to drive you there. Now, you’re standing here, in front of your ex-boyfriend, contemplating whether or not you should go with him.

“Let’s go,” he says after a minute. “We don’t wanna be stuck in traffic.”

“I haven’t said yes.” Yet. “It’s a 4-hour drive.”

You don’t have to clarify what you mean. He understands it.

You both just stare at each other for a moment, the tension suddenly thickening with every passing second. Four hours on the road. Four hours alone in a car with Jungkook. That’s about two hundred minutes more than you think you can handle.

It’s like he can see right through you. “Don’t think about it,” he says, voice dropping lower. “It’s just a weekend. Everything will still be here for you to think about when we get back.”

In your head, it translates to: All of our shit will still be here when we get back. You can keep being mad at me then.

You hope that’s not true. You hope that when you get back, the things that keep you up at night will simply cease to exist. That in the two days you’ll be gone, a genie will materialize and solve all your problems for you.

Either way, it’s probably for the best that you aren’t mean to him this weekend. You’re stuck with him for the next 48 hours or so; it’ll only stress you out even more if you channel all of your energy into tormenting him. Besides, you’re already the ex girlfriend who has no place alongside his family. You don’t want to be the dark cloud raining on everyone’s parade too.

Maybe you’d already made up your mind when you let him take the bag from you.

For the first half of the drive, you were unconscious.

It’s a useless superpower that you have, the ability to fall asleep anywhere - literally anywhere, including in the passenger seat of your ex-boyfriend’s car while he escorts you to his hometown. Melatonin gummies manufacturers hate you.

You could’ve slept the whole drive, but around the second hour mark, you were startled awake when your body jostled forward, straining against your seatbelt uncomfortably. There was an arm trying to hold you back, despite the seatbelt having done its job well.

“Fuck,” Jungkook curses before he turns toward you, worry written all over his face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, are you okay?”

You blink, still half asleep. “I’m okay,” you say. The minivan that Jungkook almost rear-ended continues on its merry way, carrying what seems to be a family of five. “What happened?”

He sighs, his outstretched arm retreating back to his side. “I got a bit distracted, that’s all.”

You take in your surroundings then. There’s barely any other cars in sight, no tacky billboard that sticks out like a sore thumb to catch your attention. There’s just the freeway, stretching on empty for all you can see.

“By what?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he says. “Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.”

See, you have the superpower of falling asleep anywhere and everywhere, but once you’ve been woken up, it’s not as easy to fall back asleep.

That, and the fact that you’re hungry as shit.

You open your mouth, about to say no, about to offer to drive the rest of the way if Jungkook is tired, but your stomach doesn’t let you get a word out. It growls, filling the space of the car, making you want to chuck yourself out the fucking window and run all the way back to the city. This wouldn’t have happened had you taken the train, because if you had, there would’ve been food services and no one would be subject to hearing your stomach sing like it’s chewing out a small puppy in there. Life is nothing but an endless pit of embarrassment and despair.

Your arms hold themselves tighter around your frame, practically squeezing into your abdomen as you will it to please, please, please be quiet. Jungkook stares at you, and you can tell by the teeny tiny quirk of his lips that he’s trying to bite back a smile. He’s relaxed, but there’s still something hesitant on his face. It takes him a minute before he finally throws the question out.

“Do you want to go to that guksu place that we used-” that we used to go to, “you know the place. The one that’s right off the freeway?”

The sun is out today. The sky unfolds endlessly just outside the window, coloring blue everything your eyes land on. There are strips of clouds scattered here and there, like delicate strokes of white paint on an azure canvas. Even the winter cold has to soften.You bite into your cheek. Don’t think, that’s what he had told you.

Not much about this quaint restaurant has changed. The quirky decorations are still where they used to be, the windows still the same unique stained glass that you never came across anywhere else. You remember the elderly woman who runs the place, even if she doesn’t have a single clue who you are. The golden retriever you used to fawn over every time you stopped by, sits quietly by the door and watches the cars pass by, his fur now graying as weariness begins to settle into those old bones.

You would’ve been displeased if the place had changed, because, well, you don’t like change. But then again, this familiarity is dangerous. It tricks you into thinking that everything is still the same, even you and him. Deludes you into believing that you’re still in love and that he’ll walk out of here holding your hand.

Regardless, the first spoonful has you biting back a smile.

“How is it?” Jungkook asks.

It makes you feel all warm inside, and then a little sad, nostalgic.

“Tastes just the same,” you tell him simply.

“Hmm.”

He lets you satisfy your hunger in peace. It’s the least he can do anyway.

There’s a wall near the back of the restaurant, where people could hang polaroids of themselves and cute handwritten notes. You think if you dig through the hundreds of photos scattered across the space, you might be able to find you and Jungkook there, if you two haven’t already been thrown out long ago to make room for new memories.

He pays for your food after you’re both finished, despite some protesting on your side. As you leave, you’re busy thinking that if you could have a moment to marvel at that far-back wall of memories, if you could find a photo of you and him there, you would probably sneak it into your coat pocket.

It’d be another thing to add to your pile of Jungkook memorabilia - the old clothes in the back of your closet, the stack of dusty polaroids at the bottom of your drawer. You wonder if he keeps anything of yours, maybe an old t-shirt that you forgot to take back. It’s probably unlikely, but a girl can hope.

You miss the way Jungkook glances back, thinking the exact same thing.

You survive the rest of the drive with more ease, probably because of the food. You spend most of the remaining 2 hours leaning against the window, humming to the radio, closing your eyes but not really sleeping. You even forget to be nervous about what is to come.

That is, until the car pulls up to the venue.

It’s absolutely gorgeous, and a lot bigger than you imagined - a modern beach house overlooking the waters. It’s not as extravagant as one would expect to see when they come to a wedding, but considering the small crowd in attendance, this is more than enough. You see people rush in and out of the place even from far away - planners, caterers, the bridesmaids and groomsmen, probably.

You feel a bit comforted just watching this. His family seems to be doing a lot better than before. It’s nice to know.

You barely make it out of the car before someone calls your name, and pulls you into a hug that knocks the wind out of you. Although, when you catch the scent of her hair, you instantly know who it is.

Parents usually have a scent that’s distinct to only their kids, a scent so cozy and homely that no perfume can ever mask. You can only describe your mom’s scent with a feeling, specifically the feeling of your chest tightening, tingling with a bittersweetness that you never found elsewhere.

Strangely enough, Jungkook’s mother has always made you feel the opposite. She makes you feel relieved to be in her embrace, like she accepts you for who you are even if all you are to her, at the end of the day, is a stranger.

You hug her back awkwardly, hesitantly, in front of Jungkook’s dad, his brother Junghyun, and a girl you don’t know. You assume that she’s the bride-to-be, the main character whom this weekend revolves around. Sooji, you remember that was the name on the wedding invitation.

You get choked up suddenly, eyes turning glassy though you quickly blink it away. You’re not sure if you’ve had someone be so happy to see you. Bypassers might even think that you just found the cure for cancer.

For a second there, you wonder if your mere presence has ever made your mother this overjoyed.

You look at Jungkook for help, silently asking him to rescue you. Who else are you supposed to turn to if not him?

He understands that look. “Okay, mom,” he says, entangling her arms from you with ease, “Y/N’s tired from the drive. Let’s let her rest, yeah? I’ll show her the room.”

She ignores her son. “Honey,” she says, brushing your hair away from your face so she could see you better. “Thank you for coming.” She used to insist that you call her “mom”, or at least by her first name because “Mrs. Jeon” was too formal for someone she considered family.

You now have to opt for the latter, because “mom” isn’t an option for you anymore.

“Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Jeon,” you tell her with a smile. You’re not really sure what else to say, but it makes you a little sad just calling her that.

She opens her mouth before closing it again, seemingly about to jokingly scold you for the formality before she recognizes the bittersweet look in your eyes. She just smiles at you then. There’s not much to be done about it.

You don’t know if anyone else sees how the moment is weighed down. Probably not. Maybe it’s just you and her who share this sentiment.

Jungkook doesn’t wait for his mom anymore. Sons, typical. He wedges himself between the two of you like a bulldozer and leads you inside the house.

Even though all you have is an overnight bag, Jungkook carries it for you all the way up to your room, which is only down the hall from his. Then he disappears pretty quickly afterward, saying something about his best man duties and putting out fires. He seems apologetic as he tells you this, but it’s not like you’re expecting him to babysit you all weekend.

You bore yourself to death in your room for a while, before you remember you have to text Yoongi to let him know you got here safely. Though, you stop short of telling him that it was Jungkook who drove you here. It’s trivial enough, right? You don’t want Yoongi to feel bad over nothing. You do, however, inform Taehyung and Jimin when you text them about it, to which Jimin only responds with a preemptively disapproving ‘Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.’

When you get too stir-crazy, you wander outside, hoping to explore the beach before it gets dark and colder. You try to stay out of everyone’s way, because a good guest is a quiet guest. You seem to be doing a good job. No one notices you, not even Jungkook’s mom but that’s because she’s the person you actively want to avoid the most. You don’t know what you’d even say to her if she gets you alone.

Everything is hectic, as one can probably imagine when it comes to wedding preparations. You haven’t had anyone close to you get married yet, so it’s safe to say that you’re pretty much clueless about all of this. You wonder what it’ll be like when your big day comes around, if you even ever get married. You haven’t thought about it in a long time. Why would you? You don’t really have a reason to think about this. It’s much easier to picture Taehyung’s or Jimin’s wedding day than your own.

Your opinion on having kids still remains the same, and you were never one of those girls who daydreamed about having a big and extravagant wedding, but it’s not such a bad idea to ponder about. You still think marriage is a scary thing - it’s one of the biggest commitments a person could ever make - but you’re not entirely opposed to getting married.

Why are you even mulling over this? Your time might never even come.

When you round the corner to get the steps that would lead you down to the beach, you run into Sooji and a woman holding a thick binder - must be a wedding planner. You give Jungkook’s future sister-in-law an awkward smile in greeting, which she returns much more gracefully before she tells the woman that she’ll be with her in a minute.

So now you’re stuck here, about to make small talk with a person you have never met before, and will likely never see again. Great.

“Hi,” you say, extending a hand. “I haven’t had the chance to introduce myself. I’m Y/N.”

“I’m Sooji,” she replies warmly as she shakes your hand, and you have to stop yourself from being a little weirdo and thinking about how silky her hair looks up close. “You’re Jungkook’s… friend, right?”

You purse your lips before nodding with a chuckle. The pause tells you that she knows, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she’s uncomfortable having you here.

“I’m sorry if this is weird. You probably don’t want a complete stranger at your wedding.”

Sooji shakes her head instantly, waving her hands around to dismiss your apology. “Please, it’s totally fine. Junghyun’s mom talked to me about it before we sent out the invites. I wouldn’t have agreed if I was really bothered. Don’t worry about it, seriously.”

“Why did you agree?” you ask, trying to sound as polite as possible. “You don’t know who I am.”

“I guess I was curious.” She shrugs, before laughing lightly as she says, “I used to think you weren’t real.”

“Huh?”

“She talks about you constantly. Never in front of Jungkook, of course. But she’s really fond of you, and you probably already know that doesn’t happen very often. She really does see you like a daughter. She made you sound too good to be true.”

You’re not sure how to respond to that. His mom still thinks about you, still talks about you after all this time. You’re just his ex-girlfriend, but she considers you her family. You don’t know what to do with this information nor the way it pinches your heart.

“I-” You purse your lips, fumbling with the responses in your head. You settle on a light laugh, because Sooji can probably tell that you’re struggling with the words too. “I have to be honest. I don’t know what to say to that.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I just thought you should know that you’re still very much loved here.” She gives you a kind smile, and it looks like she wants to tell you something else but decides against it in the end. Sooji’s eyes land somewhere behind you before she points in that general direction. “I have to go take care of an issue with the flowers, but look, Jungkook is here. Why don’t you ask him to show you around?”

And then she’s already off. Overall, what a… strange interaction.

You turn around to see Jungkook standing near one of the entrances to the house. As you watch him talk to someone - a bridesmaid, you assume, or just one of the other guests - you try not to think about the fact that there’s a stirring sensation in your stomach, and that it only intensifies when she throws her head back in a pretty laugh, a perfectly manicured hand landing on his arm like he’s the most charming person she’s ever met.

You don’t give it a name, don’t label it green in color even though you’re blue and he’s golden sunshine. You don’t acknowledge that it’s a feeling, because doing so would make it real and there are certain truths that you’d rather delude yourself into thinking are lies.

When Jungkook’s eyes catch yours and he cuts off the woman mid-sentence with a curt excuse me, you don’t acknowledge that feeling either, but it’s warm and it blooms in your chest as he makes his way to you. It’s something victorious, something that tickles your ribs.

He comes to you like you’re a destination he’s been waiting all his life to reach, and you certainly, adamantly don’t acknowledge the spectacularly dizzying feeling that swallows you whole when he places a gentle hand on your arm, his voice soft as he says, “There you are. I was looking for you.”

The familiarity, it’s catastrophic.

“I was just walking around,” you tell him. “There’s not a lot to do here. I was bored.”

“You have me,” he says. Probably not in that way, but you’d like to think that’s how he means it. “I don’t have any more fires to put out. What do you want to do now?”

You glance over your surroundings, still set on your original plans. You wanted to go alone, but you suppose you can let him accompany you. You check the time on your phone before asking, “Can we go down to the beach? I wanna see if we can catch the sunset.”

You used to do this whenever you came here to visit - walk along the beach, hand in hand, sunlight in your hair and the cool breeze holding you tight in the afterglow.

The keyword here is “used to”. Now, you have to stuff your hands in your pockets just so you don’t reach for him every time you shiver.

It’s late enough in the afternoon for you to see the moon faintly shine against a blue and orange backdrop. Sun and moon, together in the same frame. It feels symbolic somehow. You’re not really sure.

“The moon looks like an egg,” Jungkook observes astutely, taking casual strides next to you. It makes you burst into easy laughter, which makes him laugh with you too. You stop walking when you reach what you think is a good spot to watch the sky.

“Let’s sit here for a bit,” you say. It’s not the greatest idea - sitting idly by would only make you colder - but you just want to stop and look at the sunset. Once you’re seated in the sand, you respond to his moon remark, “That’s true, y’know. NASA said so.”

“Yeah,” he says, settling down beside you, “you made me read that.”

You’d forgotten about it, and you didn’t think that he’d remember. It’s freezing cold and the moon looks like an egg, but you’re not thinking, and you feel safe. Nothing can hurt you here, or at least that’s what you’d like to tell yourself.

You wrap your arms around yourself to keep from shivering, but you still shiver anyways.

“Are you cold?” he asks.

“A little,” you admit. “I should’ve worn a thicker sweater. But it’s o-”

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence, just smoothly takes off his jacket to put it around your shoulders.

You put your hands atop his to stop him. When you touch him, there’s an electric tingle that almost makes you flinch. He feels warm, still resembling a human furnace.

“No, you don’t have t-”

“Take the jacket, Y/N,” he says. “It’s just a jacket.”

The jacket smells like him. It only makes you want to crawl further into the warmth.

He seems more self-assured here, that’s what you notice. More like the version of himself that he used to be. Confident, sometimes borderline cocky. Annoying but oddly endearing, you came to love that about him.

His relaxed demeanor is understandable. You’re merely a visitor here, while this is his homeground.

“I’m curious about something,” he says after a while.

“Okay.”

“What’s the deal with Wednesdays?” he asks.

“You know how they say bad things come in threes?” You purse your lips, thinking it over, feeling something bitter in your mouth as you recall the events that led to this. “My parents got divorced on a Wednesday. I moved out of mom’s house on a Wednesday. And…” You hold your knees close to your chest as you hesitate to utter this last part, “we broke up on a Wednesday.”

You see the exact moment Jungkook mentally slaps himself, paling a couple shades as he tongues his cheek, not expecting his question to inadvertently lead back to this. It wasn’t your intention to guilt trip him. It was true that he dumped you on a Wednesday, but you don’t want the mood to turn sour, to have to mull over this again. Like he said, it will still be there for you to worry about when you get back. You’re not looking forward to returning to a shitshow, but what you’d hate even more is to tarnish the memories of this place just because you can’t keep from being vindictive for not even a weekend.

“I was born on a Wednesday too, so I guess bad things come in fours sometimes,” you continue, chuckling to yourself humorlessly.

A frown appears on his face almost instantaneously. “What is that supposed to mean?”

You shrug. Jungkook turns his body toward you, which makes you spare him a glance before you return your gaze to the horizon. His face is so serious that it’s almost funny. “Y/N,” he presses. “Why would you say that?”

“C’mon, it’s a joke. I was just being self-deprecating. Lighten up.”

“Why are you talking like that?”

“Like what? Contrary to popular belief, I don’t walk around with a thundercloud over my head all the time,” you laugh lightly. “I figured if there was a day to be nice to you, it should be today. And tomorrow, I guess.”

“This is you being nice?”

Funny how just a few weeks ago, you were fighting with him and calling him a hypocrite. Now, you’re sitting together, watching the sun set, trying not to be mean to him.

“I’m not picking a fight with you,” you say. “This is nice enough.”

“It’s not even my wedding.”

“Okay.” You glance at him again, letting words flow without a single thought. “I’ll be even nicer to you on your wedding day then.”

You don’t know where that even came from, but something aches the very second the words leave your mouth. The thought of him getting married one day makes you just nauseous, even though you always knew that it was a possibility. It might even be inevitable.

You clear your throat, waving the sullen feeling away. Your body shivers then, even after the added warmth of his jacket. Maybe you’re not shivering because of the cold anymore.

He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes linger on the side of your face. The both of you keep tiptoeing around an elephant that follows you wherever you go.

You hug your knees close to your chest, watching the blue sky melt into the golden horizon, splattered with ribbons of cotton candy clouds.

You want to scooch closer to him and have him wrap his arm around your shoulders. This isn’t the spot where you used to draw your names in the sand, enveloped in a giant heart like two lovesick kids, but wouldn’t it be nice to imagine that it is?

“I was always really happy here,” you mumble to yourself.

You were, truly. This city was your pocket of hope, your piece of peace.

Being here brings back so many memories.

It’s the same feeling you get every time you pass by somewhere you used to live. The nostalgia of walking down the same road you used to walk every day until your shoes wore out. The familiarity of your surroundings. The bittersweetness of looking into a past you cannot hold anymore, of remembering the person you were at a certain period in your life, of knowing the things you do now that you didn’t back then.

You long for things you cannot change.

Nostalgia only grows stronger with time, you can always count on that.

He hums in agreement, before admitting quietly, “I miss you.” One pulls, the other pushes. The water wavers, like it’s touched by his words, simple but earnest. You’re touched too, somewhere in your heart, where you know you should be writing someone else’s name now.

Should?

“You’re pushing it,” you say softly.

“I know.”

You look at him. Maybe it’s because you’re back in the city that holds only good memories of you two. Maybe you’re hypnotized by the way the pink and purple hues kiss his side profile, making him feel like a fever dream and not someone you loved. Maybe it’s the cold, making you yearn for any source of warmth. But instead of returning his sentiment, you say, “It’ll pass.”

He meets your eyes. There’s something pleading in his gaze. All things pass eventually. Time moves forward, people move on. Bad things will pass sooner or later. Your worst heartbreak, your most arduous trials, your saddest moments, they will all pass.

And good things… good things will have to pass too, whether you like it or not.

Your fingers twitch from where they’re still holding onto your body. You itch to reach for his hand. You don’t tell him what he wants to hear, even though here’s a part of you that wants to say it back. In a better world, you would be telling him I love you too, instead of having to suppress an I miss you too.

“All things have to pass eventually. This will too.”

[20:05] Taebear 🐻: we could go to that bar near the gallery. Y/N likes the cocktails there [20:06] Mimi 🐥: kay kay [20:06] Mimi 🐥: soooooo next friday? [20:09] Mimi 🐥: why is y/n reading our messages. shouldn’t she be at dinner [20:09] You: i approve of the bar choice [20:11] You: if you didn’t want me reading your messages, you shouldn’t have sent them to the gc [20:11] You: and if you must know, i’m skipping dinner. i’m avoiding Jungkook’s mom [20:12] Mimi 🐥: understandable. i figured you would do that [20:13] Mimi 🐥: how’s it going? are we regretting going yet? i told you to just stay home and we could binge watch the office together [20:15] You: and EYE told you that you could be a good friend and go to this wedding with me but nooooo baby doesn’t like the cold [20:16] You: you could’ve visited your parents while you’re here you know. two birds with one stone [20:18] Mimi 🐥: babes my parents stayed with me for a whole month last month. i reached my quota for family face time [20:19] You: son and friend of the year 👏 [20:20] Mimi 🐥: 😎😎😎😘

[20:22] Taebear 🐻: hey [20:23] You: uh oh. am i in trouble? why is this not in the gc? [20:25] Taebear 🐻: lol shut up [20:26] Taebear 🐻: you okay? [20:28] You: feels like that could’ve been a perfectly good question to ask in the gc [20:29] Taebear 🐻: because it’s a serious question and we both know Jimin can’t be serious for one minute to save his life [20:32] You: why does it have to be a serious question? 🤪 [20:32] Taebear 🐻: 😕 [20:33] You: stop pouting. i’m fine [20:35] Taebear 🐻: are you? [20:36] You: i am! you don’t have to go all mama bear on me [20:39] Taebear 🐻: ha ha ha. you’re so funny [20:40] Taebear 🐻: want me to call you? [20:42] You: i said i’m fiiiiiine 🙄 [20:43] You: but also no because i told everyone i was tired and i’m pretending to be asleep in my room right now [20:43] Taebear 🐻: okay [20:43] Taebear 🐻: did you eat something at least? [20:44] You: i have a cup ramen in my room [20:45] Taebear 🐻: okay [20:46] Taebear 🐻: how was today? did JK make you wanna strangle him? [20:48] You: okay Kim Taehyung at least act like you have some faith in your friend lol [20:50] You: but mmmmmm it was ok. he was mostly behaving himself [20:51] Taebear 🐻: mostly? [20:54] You: we were down at the beach and he just told me he missed me out of the blue [20:55] You: Mimi is asking why no one is replying to him [20:57] Taebear 🐻: i can see that [20:58] Taebear 🐻: what did you tell JK? [21:01] You: i quoted fleabag to him [21:09] Taebear 🐻: i had to google that [21:10] Taebear 🐻: i still don’t know what that means [21:11] You: i know you don’t lol. you’re adorable [21:11] You: i’ll tell you when i get back. [21:13] You: ok bye i have to sleep early or i’ll look like ass in the morning [21:14] Taebear 🐻: oh. okay [21:15] Taebear 🐻: sleep tight. remember not to gorge yourself on booze tomorrow [21:17] You: thanks for the reminder. love you mom 🙄💕 [21:17] Taebear 🐻: :) [21:20] Taebear 🐻: you won’t look like ass btw

You clocked out right after you told Taehyung that you would. It wasn’t a peaceful sleep though. The anxiety simmering in your belly woke you up a few times throughout the night. You don’t even know why you were anxious. It’s not like you were the one who was about to walk down the aisle.

When morning finally came and you managed to untangle yourself from the surprising comfort of your familiar bed, you practically dragged your feet for the subsequent two hours, trying to get ready. As if that would actually slow down the passage of time.

You had to compartmentalize the things you needed to do in a mental checklist. Makeup. Hair. Dress. Stare at yourself in the mirror for half an hour and internally freak out while waiting for Jungkook to come get you from your room.

Now you’re sitting in the wedding hall, watching people filter into the room. It’s not even a lot of people, but you’re still overwhelmed regardless.

You feel so exposed, even though he’s the only one looking at you in this room of strangers. He’s been looking at you like that ever since he first saw you this morning, in a dress that you got just days before the wedding. You still don’t know if it’s entirely appropriate for your ex-boyfriend’s brother’s wedding - maybe a bit revealing - but it was the only one you could find on such short notice.

When you tried on the dress for Taehyung and Jimin a few days ago, Taehyung said you looked beautiful. Jimin said you looked decent, “six point five out of ten,” which translated to “pretty nice” in Jimin-lingo. That would’ve been enough if you were going to any other wedding, not one where Jungkook would also be attending.

You had wanted him to see you and regret ever leaving you.

It was a silly thought, just a tad adolescent.

You had wanted him to see you in your dress and be consumed with thoughts of you until he couldn’t even see straight. To be the only thing on his mind, you didn’t think it was a lot to ask for.

That was before he told you not to think about it and you’d been convinced to just go with the flow just for two days. It was before he actually did see you earlier today in your dress - a simple midnight blue satin cowl neck with a slit in the thigh - but you were the one rendered helpless and speechless. He had stared at you for a minute when he came to walk you down from your room, then he’d said, all breathless even though both of you were just standing there, “You’re beautiful.”

You’re beautiful, not You look beautiful.

You don’t know why, but you appreciated it.

It made your cheeks burn underneath your artificial rosy blush. Stupid, you thought to yourself when you two made your way to the main hall. Stupid for letting yourself get dizzy because of a single compliment from him.

You’re seated with his parents, which makes sense because you don’t know anybody here except for them. Well, maybe you know one of his cousins whose kid you and Jungkook used to babysit whenever their family was in the city, but you doubt that he even remembers you anymore.

When the ceremony begins, your heart instantly feels like it’s about to drop to the pit of your stomach.

You can’t lie to yourself. It stings.

It stings just sitting here next to his parents like a daughter-in-law, like a member of their family, watching his brother solidify his happy ending.

It stings that Jungkook is standing up there, looking as handsome as ever, but his eyes aren’t on the couple. They keep flickering to you no matter how much you try to pretend that they don’t.

It stings that even though you don’t think about marriage often - or maybe you just don’t allow yourself to - you can’t deny that the thought does cross your mind from time to time. Any time that you’d wander the corridors inside your head, you’d pass the doors that you keep unopened on purpose but there’s always that one door marked with a bright red X that you can never sidestep.

You watch Junghyun and Sooji with their teary smiles and shaky hands, shaky but happy. There’s a sudden clarity that this could’ve been you and him in another life. Forever is a lie, but you would’ve perjured yourself a thousand times for him. I do - you would’ve meant it.

You imagine yourself in Sooji’s place, and Jungkook, standing right on the other side, holding both your hands in his. A beautiful and radiant bride terrified of the altar. A dashing groom with a smile that could rival the sun and shoulders weighing heavier than he lets on.

It would’ve looked clumsy, but it could’ve been right.

You wonder if he’s wondering the same thing. Maybe he is. You hope he is.

When the ceremony ends with a kiss shared between the newlyweds, you wipe away the tears that well up in your eyes. The people around you do the same thing, but they’re doing it for the right reason, out of genuine joy for the happy couple. You don’t think you can say the same for yourself.

Some of the bridesmaids fawn over him. It’s reasonable, you suppose. One tends to do that in the presence of Jeon Jungkook.

You watch as they come up to him one by one to ask him to dance, watch as he politely declines until they’re all stalking away with similar pouts on their faces. You watch him until his eyes lock on you, sitting at a table near the back, nursing a glass of champagne.

He weaves himself with ease through the people making their way to the dance floor. When he’s in front of you, he holds out a hand.

“Dance with me?” he asks, his doe eyes working overtime to lure you in with their sparkles, though you’d rather stay here where you can easily go unnoticed until the night ends. “One song?”

“I don’t know how,” you say, even as you’re taking his hand and standing up.

“I showed you how, remember?”

“That was a long time ago.”

He squeezes you reassuringly. “Just follow my lead,” he says, walking the both of you to the floor. “C’mon.”

Once the music starts, your heels stomp on his feet at least three times before you start finding the beat to move along to. Muscle memory, or whatever, is bullshit. You remember absolutely nothing of what he showed you.

You’re grateful that the song is slow, because it makes it easier for you to follow the beat with your two left feet. He takes one of your hands in his, the other settling on the small of your back, guiding you to move in a steady rhythm.

You feel his mother’s eyes on the two of you, because she must be somewhere nearby, watching you like a hawk. You feel his gaze on your face while you keep yours on the knot of his tie, just trying to keep your composure and to not step on his feet with your heels.

The blur of white that you catch from the periphery of your vision makes you turn your head. Sooji and Junghyun are close by, swaying together slowly to the soft music, both of them glowing with happiness. She must sense your eyes on her, because she lifts her gaze up to meet yours. She smiles at the sight of you and Jungkook, and you smile back, because you don’t know how else to respond to that.

You don’t say it, but you do think it. Your fingers tighten around his hand ever so slightly.

Could that have been us?

If the answer is yes, then it would hurt.

If the answer is no, then it would hurt.

The point of your story is that it’s painful however you choose to look at it. There’s no other way to frame it. It’s just painful, because you’re never going to get any of it back.

You bite your lip, then turn away from the happy couple but you still don’t look at Jungkook. You look at your hand in his, and that’s when you see it.

“How’d you get that?” you ask, gently tracing the inch of slightly raised skin on his knuckles. You never noticed the scar until now.

“It was four years ago, I think? After Taehyung and I almost got into a fight, I went outside and… punched a wall,” he says, wincing as he recalls the memory.

His answer takes you aback. “You and Taehyung got into a fight?”

“Almost,” he corrects. “It was a long time ago. Didn’t they tell you?”

“No, they didn’t say anything. What happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“If it was really nothing, you wouldn’t have punched a wall.” You frown. It makes you miss a few beats, but the song isn’t what’s important now, even if Jungkook is still trying to steer you back into the dance. “Taehyung isn’t violent. You aren’t violent.”

“I’m serious,” he says finally. “It’s nothing. We were just drunk and stupid.”

You know there must be more to it, that something must have happened or been said to trigger such a reaction from both of them. But you also know that you won’t probably get anything out of Jungkook if he doesn’t want to tell you.

You give up, for now. “Fine. If you say so.” You’ll just have to weasel it out of Jimin later.

The song comes to an end, before another one comes on. If Jungkook remembers that he only asked for one song, maybe he’s counting his blessings that you’re still here and dancing with him, because he doesn’t mention it.

For some reason, you pull your hand away from his, only to slide up his shoulder to lock both of your hands behind his neck. He seems surprised, but he does the same around your waist.

Jungkook’s gaze flickers to your lips briefly, then back to your eyes again. You find yourself doing the same and wonder what he tastes like after all the time you’ve been apart. Is he still as sweet as you remember? You used to tease that it was because of the excessive sugar he put in everything, but you knew it was really just him. The few inches between you are so inviting that it’s practically tempting you to close the gap. You could, easily in fact. Blame it on one too many glasses of champagne later if you want.

He looks younger like this, like the boy you loved, starry eyes and dimpled smile. His shoulders are always the most comfortable resting place, the crook of his neck your long lost home. This is nice, you think, to see him again even though it feels like a fever dream. Memories of your first date, your first kiss, come to life before your eyes so realistically that you could almost touch them.

Loved? That sounds funny to you.

The people you used to be, souls wrapped in innocence, when the world was nothing but the arms of the person you loved. You reach out, and the memories quickly fade from view. The only trace they leave behind is a speck of gold on your fingertips, a memento of charming naiveté for you to tuck neatly away in the corner of your mind, but also a reminder that ah, they only exist in the locket of your heart now. Because he has changed, and you think you must have too. Life, as they say, goes on.

“We made it. Kind of. That’s crazy,” you find yourself saying.

“Did we?”

“You don’t think so?” you chuckle. “We’re in a group chat with the Kim Seokjin who spams it with bad jokes on a daily basis. I’d call that a win.”

That makes him laugh. “If you put it like that, yeah, maybe. Sure.”

Other people might be fooled, but it doesn’t sound at all convincing to you. The light doesn’t really reach his eyes. You bite the inside of your cheek, thinking of how to translate the sudden poignant turn of the moment.

“It isn’t everything you hoped it’d be?” you ask.

His shoulders rise then fall quickly in a second-long shrug. “I thought it would make me feel more… fulfilled. But it doesn’t. Not really.”

The way he says it and the way he’s looking at you makes your heart dive. You understand what he means. You’re good at what you do, and you don’t need reassurance from anyone to recognize that. But sometimes, it doesn’t feel like it’s enough. Doesn’t feel like it’s real, like it’s validated.

When you landed your first big project, even before Yoongi, you were so proud of yourself. You were bursting with excitement but you weren’t happy, and you knew what the reason was. Something was missing that couldn’t be filled, not even with all your friends’ hundreds of messages of encouragement.

It’s beyond stupid, this feeling like your wins amount to nothing at all just because of one person. You wanted him there to celebrate every achievement with you and he wasn’t, and the milestones seemed incomplete without the presence of him. It doesn’t feel like you’ve accomplished anything because this always used to be a dream you thought you’d make come true together.

“It’s lonely,” he concludes.

It sounds like he feels the same way, like he wanted you to be there too.

He suddenly holds you tighter than you think he needs to, like he’s afraid to let go of you. You imagine that he doesn’t want to let go of you, and it makes you feel better for a second. But it doesn’t change the fact that he still did in the end. And he will have to when this ends.

What was the point of this? Why did he bring this upon yourselves when he seems to be as hurt as you are? All of this time, all of these years, lost to what? You could’ve been happy together but instead, you were both lost and miserable.

When the music stops - you lost count of how many songs it’s been - you pull away from him. He looks disappointed, maybe even a little hurt for some reason.

“I’m gonna get some air,” you say, already turning away from him.

“Y/N-”

“I need some air.” Then you’re weaving through the dancing couples despite Jungkook calling your name. How did he manage it? How did he not look back when you called out for him?

You hastily grab your coat on the way out. It’s not going to keep you warm, but that’s not something you’re even remotely concerned with.

It’s everywhere, you feel it down to your bones.

The wind wraps itself tightly around you, intertwining in your hair, slipping through the cracks of your fingers, caressing your face in a chilling touch. You greet the cold like a long lost sister, shivering violently with nostalgia. It was there for you more than your own flesh and blood.

Is that why you like the sea at night? Because it reminds you of mom?

It’s dark out here, barely anything is visible except for a lighthouse sending out light in the quiet of the night. You can’t see much, but you can certainly hear it. You’re not sure if the music is coming from inside the venue, or if it’s still ringing in your ears. It’s probably the latter; you’re too far away to be able to catch the music anyway. But regardless, the tune is quickly drowned out by the sea.

The waves crash violently against the shore like it’s out for blood. There’s a magnetic pull, as if it’s calling out for you. You want to go to it, to reach out and feel the cold outside of your body for once, but you stay there despite your legs itching to stand up and run straight ahead. Into the water and down under.

You could lie down and close your eyes for a moment. The sound of the water, as sharp and brutal as it is, nurtures a part of you somehow.

You just want to be alone. You don’t want to talk to Taehyung, or Jimin, or even Yoongi.

Oh.

Yoongi.

It’s a terrible feeling, knowing that you’re going to hurt Yoongi. Knowing that you’re going to kill this even before it has a chance to truly begin.

Truth be told, you can’t envision a future with Yoongi. There isn’t anything wrong with him, because he’s not the problem here. Yoongi is fun, he’s considerate, he keeps things light on purpose for you, until you’re ready to initiate something more serious. He’s good for you, even Taehyung thinks so.

But you can’t love Yoongi, not in the way that he wants you to. Not more than you love Jungkook.

There you go. Ruining things again.

Did you ruin Jungkook? Is that what happened?

The layers on you are no match for the sea at night. The wind hisses relentlessly, biting at any part of your skin that’s exposed.

It takes you back to that night. Almost everything does, actually.

Maybe that’s why you never even stopped to consider starting anything with anyone, because it always ends. If there’s a beginning, then there will be an inevitable ending. Love isn’t made to last and you aren’t meant to carry love with you. You’ve been abandoned twice. If it happens a third time, it’s a pattern, and then your hypothesis will only be proven. That the problem here is you.

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t wondered when it’ll finally be Taehyung’s turn to leave. He eventually will, right? That one’s gonna hurt.

Then, you’re startled when someone calls your name.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks. The wind and the waves masked the sound of his footsteps walking up to you. When you turn around to face him, his eyes grow worried, almost panicked. “Why are you crying?”

You breathe out irritatedly before you hastily wipe at your cheeks. You didn’t even realize that you’d been crying. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m fine,” you say, though you both know it’s a lie. “I’m just tired. I’m going up to my room.”

He catches your wrist in a firm grip when you try to walk away. You wish he’d just leave you alone, but you knew he wouldn’t drop it just like that.

“I said I’m fine,” you insist.

“You were crying,” he says. “Did I do something wrong?”

He didn’t, at least not tonight.

God, you really don’t want to do this right now.

“Jungkook,” you warn. “Let go of me.”

You try to free yourself from his grip, hoping that he’ll get the hint and back off for now. Instead, he pulls you into his chest, where you struggle to escape from his hold until you realize your efforts are futile. He takes the wind’s place, wound tightly around you, so tightly that it’s nearly impossible for you to move.

You hiss out his name, but he doesn’t budge.

“Jungkook, can you just- Fuck!”

Damn him.

You realize he’s not giving up, which in turn makes you give up struggling, hoping that if you let this be a moment, then it’ll be something that can pass.

You’re just standing there, letting him hold you, letting yourself be held by the person who broke you in the first place. This feels exactly like where you’re supposed to be - in his arms, with your face hidden in the crook of his neck, his gentle fingers stroking your hair. There’s not a lot that you could do but lean into that feeling the same way you lean into him. One foot in the sand, one foot in the past. A hand on the doorknob of time, wondering if you should look back or look forward.

You want to be alone, but that never used to apply with him.

The wind stills, the sea calms. You remain unmoving too, locked in his embrace. You feel the faint rhythm of his heart, beating faster than you think it should. If you could, you would bottle this moment up and live there forever.

I miss you, you think.

I miss you.

Then your arms are around him too. It only makes him hold you tighter, and all you can think about is how much you miss him, how painful it is to miss him, how you feel like you’re being pulled apart at the seams from the weight of missing him.

Fuck.

Can you pretend that the last few years never happened? Is there a higher power that would allow you to go back to the night before that wretched Wednesday, when everything was still perfect? Hundreds of days of your life, can you pretend that it was just one long nightmare? When you wake up, you’ll be back in his humble apartment, tangled up together in his bed. Warm sunlight, your silken youth, and him. It was all you ever needed.

Again with the devastating familiarity. The city, the beach. His mother’s warmth that always made you reminisce about your own mother’s coldness. How Jungkook used to find you in moments like this and just stayed by your side until the dejection passed. He understood that he could never understand it the way you did.

You hear yourself sniffle, then you feel him press a kiss into your hair. Home is comforting.

Oh, you never want to leave.

You don’t want to leave, and that’s terrifying.

You allow yourself to stay there for one more second - one endless second - so you could commit to memory what it’s like to be with him. Back and forth. It’s always so easy to fall into him.

Jungkook releases you when he feels you loosen after a while, and you reluctantly meet his eyes as he tilts your head to face him. His fingers cradling your jaw, how warm and delicate they feel on your skin.

You swallow thickly, your mind going blank. He’s the only person you see, the only one that matters. His eyes flicker south, and even then you don’t make any move to run away, despite his loose grip on your waist telling you that you can if you want to.

You told him that it would pass, and maybe for him, it will. For him, it’s the city and the moment, making him feel like he’s caught up in a page that he’s turned over a long time ago. He was fine with leaving, and he’s been fine without you. It will pass for him, as much as it hurts you to admit it.

But not for you. For you, there’s only him. There’s nobody else but him. It’s always been him, no matter how hard you try to tell yourself that there will be another person you can love as much as you love Jungkook. You might only be a page, perhaps even a chapter, in the story of his life, but he’s your entire book. He’s volume after volume after volume, until he takes up the whole shelf and leaves no room for anything else, not even for yourself.

And now here he is - at the biggest turn in your career.

He’s a bad blood cell you can’t ever get rid of.

You’ll never be able to truly let go of him. How could you? When you truly love someone, those feelings will carry on forever. They’ll always have a piece of your heart despite an ending. When you look back on a certain period in your life, you’ll think to yourself, You’ll always be a part of me. I loved you then.

But Jungkook is a force of nature. He has your whole heart.

Years and years from now, when you look back on your life, you know you’ll see him everywhere. Even when you’re old and gray, and when faces all just blur together in a mosaic of broken memories and long lost youth, you know you’ll still remember him - the person you loved, the one whom you let slip through your fingers. The great love of your life when you were young.

Sometimes, you regret that day. You can’t help feeling like it was your fault too. Maybe you should’ve tried harder to keep him. You should’ve fought harder, should’ve held onto him instead of standing there and watching him leave.

He lit the match, and you let the house burn. It takes two to tango, two to break a heart.

You’re quick to let people leave. Oh, how you wish it could be that easy to let them go too.

It isn’t until your eyes mimic the flicker of his gaze that he leans in. You meet him halfway. For the first time in years, you feel like you could breathe, truly breathe. It’s achingly slow, like neither of you can believe that this is happening.

You sigh against his mouth when his tongue brushes your bottom lip, slips past the seal to devour you. It feels like a perfect dream. You could stay in this bubble with him forever, pretend that you’re the only two people who exist in the world and there’s nothing else, no one else, waiting for you in a city that seems so far away right now. The thought of him never left you, not even for a second. He’s always been with you everywhere you go, no matter what you do, always in the back of your mind.

He tastes like your youth, like remembrance. He kisses you like he’s still yours when deep down you know that you’re still his. The hand on your jaw is gentle but firm, and it makes you repeat a thought, I miss you.

Then a feeling, I love you.

Not then. Now.

I love you now.

I love you even when I shouldn’t. Even when it hurts. Even when you leave me. Even when you don’t love me more than I love you. If there comes a day where you love somebody else, I will still love you then. There will never be another person for me but you. My first and only love.

When he pulls away, you think it’s too quick, even though your lungs are grateful for the breath that you instantly inhale. You stare at his lips like you’re in a daze, mesmerized, wanting to chase them again. You don’t even know how you have it in yourself to utter these next words, but you hear your own voice saying them anyway.

You’re holding onto him now. Doesn’t that count?

“Let’s…” Your fingers tighten on the collar of his dress shirt. “Let’s go up to your room.”

note (2): so... what do we think?? will they?? won't they?? 😵 stay tuned for obs7.5 which will be dropping 29.09.2023! also i'm gonna pause obs muse asks for a little bit! 😬

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