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amberjazmyn · 1 year ago

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criminal minds bau one-shot

𝓲𝓶𝓪𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓮 - panic room

𝔀𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 - normal criminal minds warnings, character death, torture, angst, loads of tears, grief

𝓭𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷 - agent ellianna johnson is taken by the unsub after she was assigned the task of taking said unsub down. the unsub was ellianna's uncle and a serial killer who had been killing during ellianna's entire thirty years of life, ultimately ruining and shaming the "johnson" last name. that was until she was her uncle's very last victim before arresting him finally bringing some peace, justice and closure for the victims and her family.

𝓪𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽𝓮 - i've had this idea swimming around in my brain for a while so i hope i don't mess this up. also, italics will be the characters' thoughts and the pov's will be switching a lot but you'll know who's pov it'll be. also, whilst i have included gifs, i am not categorising this as a gif imagine because even though they are used to describe the grief that i explain from the four gifs i've chosen, i am not labelling it as a gif imagine if that makes sense.

part two masterlist

- - -

ellianna knew she had to do something so the unsub wouldn't get away with his crimes but, she really should have been more thought out with her decision-making skills, especially as an fbi agent with the behavioural analysis unit. yet, if she was questioned later about the decision she made, she would 100% defend herself and say that whilst she could absolutely have been more thought out, her plan was the most logical idea and the only way in which the unsub was going to meet his end as a serial killer.

now, ellianna, in her almost ten years with the fbi's bau has been through many a torture chamber but, none were as horrific as the one that she was currently hanging in by her wrists that were attached to the top of the ceiling of the old warehouse she was being held captive in. refusing to show the fear that she didn't have, she put her life on the line so many times at this point that it almost becomes something of an "inside joke" within the bau to act like some "lighthearted" therapy. and to make light of all the times the thirty-year-old had been kidnapped and tortured whilst on a case. however, this torture was going to be the one case that wouldn't ever be a laughable one, even in the far-off future. this one was for sure the one that ellianna was about a hundred million per cent sure going to kill her. this warehouse was the panic room that haunted the agent's dreams every single night, despite the constant denial to her fellow agents and sometimes herself about the nightmares she'd have about the said warehouse.

the unsub that ellianna and her boyfriend dr spencer reid were tasked to capture was a sixty-year-old male, just shy of 6ft tall, with shaggy brown hair, and dirty brown eyes with the stench of a garbage collector. the man's name was peter johnson and heartbreakingly, ellianna's own uncle from her dad's side of the family. hence why she threw herself into the warehouse rather than jj, derek, emily or her two bosses aaron and david. but that didn't mean that ellianna threw herself into that warehouse on her own entirely, she had her boyfriend and fellow supervisory special agent dr spencer reid as her number two. she made a promise to her parents, basically her whole family, that even if it killed her, this job, she'd be the person to eventually take down her serial killer uncle so no one else had to go through the trauma that this man was bringing not just to her family but to the wider state of virginia and the country of the united states of america.

"...why is it that you always have to sacrifice yourself for your team, ellianna? is this something that gives you a buzz? an excitement?" the gruff voice of the unsub, who was ellianna's uncle, made her entire body shiver as she grunted, really showing her body strength as she held herself up

"why else do you think, peter? and no, why would this give me a buzz or excitement? i'm doing my goddamn job!" the thirty-year-old spat back, not wanting the niceties to be much longer, the man understanding that almost straight away

"oh, that's right, how could i forget! you want to prove to our family as well as to your team that you can arrest me after i've spent the last thirty years committing these crimes and only now i've been caught and you wanted to be the final victim!" the older man snarled as ellianna dryly chuckled at her insane family member

"i don't want to prove myself to them because i don't need to prove anything to anybody. i promised my family years ago when i first joined the fbi academy that i would do anything in my power to make sure they and i were all alive to see you finally be thrown into prison. i was nineteen then and i'm thirty now and only one small thing has changed about that statement!" ellianna huffed out, her attitude really testing her uncle's patience, just like it did when she was younger as the older, grotesque man crossed his arms over, daring to challenge his fed niece

"what's changed then, enlighten me, my dear niece. what has changed in the last ten years, ellianna johnson?" peter spat out as ellianna chuckled to herself, always up for the fun that was challenging her dad's older brother

"what's changed, is that i no longer care whether i come out of here alive or not. as long as the rest of my family is alive and healthy to see you get thrown into prison and have their witness statements taken and given justice by getting charged and thrown away for the rest of your life, it no longer bothers me whether or not i'm alive or dead. as long as my family gets justice for the despicable and abhorrent crimes you committed, i'll know i died a hero and a role model for the family because i helped them take down the serial killer who destroyed not just the name of our family but also all the good that's in our family because of the decision you made over thirty years ago to finally listen to those little voices in your head that you had been ignoring for so many years until they got so loud that you couldn't deal with them anymore and the only way you thought you could stop them was from killing others!" ellianna was raging mad at this point, not caring that she was covered in blood, blood that was dripping from her forehead and feet - all she cared about was her family and all the other families getting the justice they deserved years ago

this was when ellianna wished that she had an eidetic memory because she couldn't even remember that spencer, her boyfriend and fellow agent had come with her into the warehouse, also getting caught by her uncle - though only getting restrained to a chair in front of her as he opened his eyes and made eye contact with the love of his life

a flash of memory then came across ellianna as she moved to make eye contact with him. she knew he'd be just as terrified as she would be. wordlessly, without peter realising since he was distracted, ellianna comforted spencer, letting him know that whilst it looked like it hurt from the way she was hanging by her hands, she was completely fine and that she was able to handle it. the moment that she got the confirmation head nod from spencer, she focused back to peter, who had seemed to suddenly remember also, that he had kept spencer restrained to a chair sitting right in front of ellianna, whilst he had stood slightly off to the side.

"hmm, seems like you hadn't forgotten about spencer like i would have thought you did, i mean, i forgot about him for a second because of how quiet he is..." peter trailed off in a taunting voice as ellianna rolled her eyes as the sounds of the warehouse lights sounded, the burst of light making both spencer and ellianna turn away due to how bright it was and how their eyes still needed adjustment

"...of course, i didn't, you douchebag! now, what are you going to do to him, peter?" ellianna started to slightly panic, on the inside that is, she was staying calm on the outside as she hoped that whilst the team were all wired and connected, they were still close by and had the opportunity and a chance at rescuing spencer

"absolutely nothing dear niece of mine. i mean, i haven't forgotten and i don't think spencer here has forgotten the entire screech of a speech you made to me and everyone that cares to watch this live feed at the start of this entire ordeal. you screamed for spencer not to be hurt and i haven't. i haven't laid a single finger on dr reid and i won't because i'll be way too busy laying every single finger on you to even give that squib a second look..." peter trailed off as spencer let out a wrangled cry, making peter and ellianna snap their heads, peter moving closer to his niece to move a strand of her hair behind her ear

"...shh, spence, please, it's okay! i'm okay, i promise, he isn't hurting me!" ellianna tried her absolute hardest to convince her boyfriend that the torture by her uncle wasn't painful at all - and it was true, ellianna hadn't screamed one single time

"she's right, boy genius, she hasn't screamed, not once. not since she begged on her knees for me to hurt her, instead of you..." peter snickered as all spencer's mind could go back to was that moment, he had never seen his girlfriend beg like that in their entire time at the bau together, and neither did the rest of their team who was watching via the live feed that penelope had hacked into after being given the link by peter

"--please, peter, i beg of you. take me instead, leave spencer alone. hurt me, touch me, rape me! whatever it is you want, just do it to me. just leave spencer and the rest of my team alone, they've done nothing wrong! and keep your bloody hands off of him!" she begged, she had never sounded so sure but so pained at the same time as she saw her uncle drift closer to her boyfriend as though he was taunting his niece

in her almost decade of serving as a federal agent with the fbi's behavioural analysis unit, ssa ellianna johnson hadn't ever begged an unsub for something more than for her boyfriend, ssa dr spencer reid to be spared by them, the unsub they were trying to take down, which had turned out to be ellianna's own uncle.

the rest of spencer and ellianna's team; derek morgan, emily prentiss, jennifer (jj) jareau, penelope garcia, david rossi and aaron hotchner watched the security camera live footage with anxiety and uncertainty for their two youngest members. the team was usually so fearless so whenever something bad happened to spencer and or ellianna, the team was always at their most vulnerable. the girls had tears blurring their vision and the guys tried to hold back their own tears and their anger as the team sat in silence as they watched the live feed that had been sent to penelope for this very reason and it boiled their blood.

peter was still not budging on his niece's pleas to leave spencer alone. neither spencer nor ellianna had been restrained as yet as they had just arrived but peter had already thrown things at them and given both of them minor concussions.

if it took ellianna to get on her knees begging her uncle for him to stay away from spencer, she would do anything to make sure he would be safe and, that's what she did. ellianna got down on her knees, her hands in the air and her gun out of its holster and discarded on the floor, begging for her uncle to leave her boyfriend alone and to take her as his hostage and torture her so that her boyfriend would be safe and sound.

"for fuck sake, peter, please! stay the fuck away from spencer, don't you dare think about even laying one of your dirty fingers on him. put all those grubby, bloody, serial killer fingers on me and torture me with every ounce of your body because you'll have so much more fun hurting me than you would if you were hurting spencer. please, let me take spencer's place he has so much more life left to live for and new things to research and find out about life. he...he has to take care of his mom, he has to find a cure for her! please, leave him alone!" ellianna begged again, on her knees as peter finally changed his mind, ellianna eased as spencer was then placed in the chair, right in front of the chains that were suspended in the air with all different kinds of torture devices next to it

spencer had never been known fear in his life until this moment right here. it wasn't him being tied up to the chair that terrified him, the thing that scared him was having to watch the love of his life, the girl he wanted to marry, watch getting tortured and killed right in front of him with a front-row seat, their team also helplessly watching, by someone who once loved her, he'd do anything to protect her as her uncle.

"ellianna, what are you doing?" spencer whimpered, not caring that he sounded like a weak, scared little boy in front of the unsub because, at this moment, that's how he felt as ellianna smiled softly

"i'm saving your life, spence. i can't let you die, you mean way too much to me. you've been through so much, it's time i deserved some pain once in a while, i'm lessening the load," ellianna smiled, keeping up her strength as peter drew ever so closer to his niece so he could start assembling the torture, grabbing her and chucking her against a wall, causing spencer and the team watching to flinch at the noise ellianna's body made as it connected with the wall as more blood started to pool at the back of her head, matching the blood trickling down her forehead, due to the force the push had created

the metal chains loudly clasped her hands above her head as she hung with her feet no longer touching the ground beneath her as she remained tough and unafraid. a smile suddenly formed on the young agent's face as she suddenly giggled at how unflattering this pose must have looked to spencer and the team at the angle they were watching it at. saying it in a way to make the horrific situation more comedic, however, it of course didn't land as well as she wanted it to land.

"this pose must look very unflattering to you guys right now..." ellianna giggled suddenly as she then looked down, the mortified look of her boyfriend, spencer, as well as her team who she couldn't see, didn't find it as comedic as she thought they would have

halting her laughter, ellianna quietly gulped, not knowing what else she could say to fill the suddenly eerie silence that fell throughout the abandoned warehouse - peter ignoring the exchange

it seemed as if ellianna's begs to save spencer in replacement for her was working. she smiled to herself that her boyfriend was safe, though he was having to watch his girlfriend be tortured right in front of him whilst restrained, he was safe.

no more than a second longer did peter wait before his homemade torture equipment was powered up before it started to tear into and shock ellianna's body. the equipment varied from kitchen appliances like knives, screwdrivers, ice picks, and a baseball bat to an electric wire that would end up being bound around ellianna's legs as well as other things that burnt into the agent's skin. ellianna's entire body was being torn into and was on fire however that gorgeous, loving, caring, bright smile remained etched on her face, not once letting it falter or letting herself scream out in pain for her uncle to switch the torture equipment off.

ellianna knew that it was bothering her uncle immensely that she wasn't reacting to the torture. she knew that he always thrived off of the pain of his victims yet, she'd always been known to have the physical and mental strength throughout her entire life to be able to withstand whatever torture that was subjected to her. so, ellianna could tell that if her uncle was a firecracker about to explode, he would have set the entire warehouse ablaze because he wasn't getting the reaction and what he wanted from his victim. but, the catch was, due to how smart peter was, it didn't take him too long to figure out what could possibly make his niece falter and that was seeing her boyfriend falter and freak out. for ellianna, the only known thing to cause her pain in the world was seeing her boyfriend spencer in pain. whether it was seeing him cry, seeing him sick or just seeing him in some sort of pain made ellianna break. it was definitely her biggest weakness but it hadn't ever been a worry to think about because, until today, none of their unsubs had a personal connection to any of the team where they would know any of the agents' weaknesses in the way that peter knew what his niece's weakness was. so, peter then decided to use it against her by turning up the level of pain on all of the equipment which effectively made spencer start to thrash around in his seat, crying out for peter to stop.

the rest of her team were barely able to continue watching as peter turned up his dial on the equipment's power grid when they heard spencer's screeches for peter to stop. and the worst part of all was that penelope and the rest of the team were nowhere near close enough to finding where on god's green earth this abandoned warehouse was in downtown virginia.

"ellianna! peter, stop it! please, leave her alone! stop it now! you've done enough, you've hurt her enough! she's bleeding, peter! please, peter....put...put her down! you're hurting her!" spencer sobbed, the hot tears streaming down his face as he thrashed around in the restrains that were stopping him from saving her himself

"spence, please, it's okay! it doesn't hurt, i promise, i can't even feel a single thing!" ellianna attempted to comfort her devastated boyfriend as peter groaned, both his plans of inflicting the most pain on his niece and making her scream and cry weren't working so, that was when he decided he needed to go a step further and bring out the big guns

"is it bad that she can't feel it, hotch?" jj questioned, her tears that had pooled in the corner of her eyes now dousing her cheeks, her head turned from the screen to her unit chief, hotch not knowing how to respond

"i...i don't know jj but just trust ellianna. trust that she knows what she's doing," hotch gulped nervously, just hoping that his not-so full proof statement was correct and that one of his very much beloved agents was going to be safe - especially after he promised that he would keep her safe

however, hotch couldn't have been more wrong in his hope for ellianna to get out of this torture alive. everything had happened so quickly that it was as though the team and spencer had just blinked before they heard a gunshot ring through the warehouse. spencer's heartwrenching and guttural screams followed shortly after as he helplessly tried to free himself from his restraints to shoot peter.

from the time it had taken the rest of the team to find the banged-up industrial warehouse that spencer and ellianna had found peter johnson in, it felt like time had slowed down. because it felt as though spencer just blinked before one other shot rang out. morgan and prentiss had rushed in within seconds. morgan had delivered the shot that hit peter in the leg, not killing him only immobilising the elderly man so the arrest would be easier. prentiss then quickly rushed over to spencer to untie him from the seat, however, that only accomplished spencer collapsing to his knees, more gutwrenching sobs and screams leaving his mouth that had come from his gut as morgan quickly discovered that ellianna's pulse was gone and that she was deceased. peter had been killing his victims with a gun, not his torture equipment and he had done the very same thing to his niece after morgan and prentiss had stormed the building because he panicked and didn't want to be caught with his final victim still alive.

morgan bit his lip as he turned to spencer, "...she...she's dead, reid..." morgan whispered out, the taller man's body going slightly numb as he watched his best friend lose himself over the loss of his girlfriend

reinforcements, including the other members of the bau, excluding penelope, and the coroner had been called to the scene. david rossi and hotch rushed over to spencer, trying to convince him to stand up off the floor and get him to the safety of an awaiting ambulance to patch up the lesions on his wrists and ankles and the dried blood on his forehead from the mild concussion. usually, in a situation like this, spencer would be fighting tooth and nail to stay with his girlfriend, however, this time, he was way too weak to even scream anymore, let alone fight against his chief in command and senior officer as they carefully helped the grief-stricken boy walk out of the warehouse and to the ambulance.

whilst rossi and hotch coerced the broken spencer out of the warehouse, prentiss, jj and morgan had the awful task of having to turn each individual piece of torture equipment off and had to wait a couple of minutes so they wouldn't blow up themselves and the entire rusting building. finally, after they were sure that everything was turned off and no longer a danger to everyone, it was time they could release their best friend, their fellow agent ellianna johnson from the ceiling restraints as they couldn't entirely ignore the large gunshot wound that was right in the middle of her chest. however, it was obvious that even together, emily and jj were not physically strong enough to get ellianna down from the ceiling so, that was morgan's next job as he grabbed her safely and carried the girl to the medical examiner who then put her body into a body bag to be then transported to the coroner's office for an official autopsy to be taken. the task after that was to then make sure all of the injuries and causes of death are checked out. meaning, spencer alongside emily was assigned the job of visiting the coroner's office to make sure that ellianna's autopsy was done correctly and could be used as well-rounded evidence against her uncle, the vicious unsub that had finally, after thirty years of killing, had been caught.

"--what was the official cause of death, doctor?" emily finally asks after radio silence from the medical examiner and the two fbi agents, spencer trying to hold himself together, his tears burning the back of his eyes, emily keeping the close eye on her grieving best friend

"traumatic brain injury due to insistent trauma and the blood loss from the gunshot wound to her stomach. the tbi started the moment she got the first head knock and then the second one only made it worse. the ongoing trauma after the knock to the head only worsened the trauma which caused internal bleeding along with external bleeding from the back and front of her head as well as her stomach after the gunshot. she didn't feel anything because her body was in survivor mode and overcompensating with the adrenaline that would have been pumping through her veins as she traiged her pain and chose to prioritise her strength," the medical examiner, a 5'3 asian female spoke softly but professionally, emily nodding her head whilst spencer looked as if he was watching ghosts

"thank you, doc. would...could you excuse us, please?" emily was soft in her question as the examiner nodded her head, not hesitating for a moment to give the two fbi agents time alone

"of course," the examiner spoke softly and escorted herself out of the room

"thank you," emily spoke quietly, the examiner now out of the room leaving only emily, spencer and the deceased body of ellianna johnson that rested on the cold metal slab, her body covered with a white sheet that was covered with bloody splotches - on her head and stomach

grabbing a soft hold on spencer's hand, emily knew it was now time to focus on bringing some comfort to her devastated best friend.

"did you hear any of that?" emily's voice was soft, whilst heartbroken, showed strength and stability as a shaky breath left the young agent's mouth, his hand stuffed into the jacket that he had been wearing since getting checked over by the paramedics

"she wasn't in any pain, spence," emily knew telling spencer that his girlfriend didn't feel a thing as she died wasn't at all going to bring the boy genius any comfort but, she knew she had to repeat it to him

silence is what was returned to emily from spencer other than a single tear from the corner of his eye. it didn't stay there for long before it was dabbed away by a tissue that the young agent had been fiddling with in his jacket pocket the entire time. it wasn't long, though, until the single tear turned into so many tears that the singular, crumpled-up tissue wasn't enough and emily pulled the inconsolable spencer reid into her arms as he sobbed and wept into her shoulder. his crumpled-up tissue covering his face as he tried to conceal the noise his sobs were making. to have this moment in the medical examiner's office broke emily's heart, it caused her the most pain in her body that ellianna never made it out of that case alive like she had promised everyone she would. now, she wasn't alive to see her uncle get his just deserts in court and wouldn't have the opportunity to testify against him - that job now going to spencer. for he was the only other viable witness to peter's crimes, ellianna, his other one deceased.

𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚔 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗

derek's grief over ellianna's death was unusual. it hurt the tall, chocolate-toned, slightly older male more than he'd like to admit it hurt him. because that's the type of person derek was. he wasn't the biggest fan of showing his vulnerability so, as he grieved over the loss of his best friend, ssa ellianna johnson, he tried his absolute hardest to hide it like he always did. however, this time, it was different and, he wasn't able to be as discreet about his grief as he usually was. there were times that he would have trouble just looking at certain nooks and crannies around the bau building because so much of that building was ellianna and was too reminiscent of her. however, unlike the other team members, derek only openly cried thrice over the death of ellianna. the first time was at the funeral, of which he, himself was physically and consciously aware of his tearful reaction. the second time was during a small memorial that the entire bau building had hosted for the young agent, this was a moment that derek wasn't consciously aware of his tears, not until a tissue from penelope was offered to him did he realise he was even crying. the third and final time derek cried over ellianna's death was during the court date of peter johnson. this was the worst of the three times that derek had cried. he would have thought hearing spencer, three of dozens of peter's victims, ellianna's older and younger brothers and aaron hotchner say their witness statements wouldn't have affected him in any certain way but, they did. whilst the way that three of the dozens of victims of peter, hotch and ellianna's older and younger brothers were heartbreaking statements to listen to as they had them being said with peter in the courtroom, it wasn't until spencer's tearful statement which had the detailed way in which ellianna had been murdered was spoke through gutwrenching sobs that also got derek himself weeping silently as well. that, hearing spencer weep as he spoke of the way in which peter taunted and tortured his own blood relative, his own brother's daughter, was enough to bring derek to shed tears that had been held back for years. however, it seemed as if within a month or two, derek was starting to have his life continue somewhat normally. for, he no longer had teary eyes when he looked at ellianna's empty desk that was now a memorial for the girl at the bau.

𝚓𝚎𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚛 𝚓𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚞 (𝚓𝚓)

similar to derek, jj's grief over ellianna's death was strange. like everyone else's was as no grief is technically normal if it's really thought about. however, jj straight up denied that she was upset over ellianna's death. which caused so much in-team fighting and arguing. unlike derek, who finally did come forward and say he was struggling, jj did not. she tried so hard to push her grief to the back of her mind so she could take care of everyone else around her, spencer being her number one priority until he wasn't when emily told her that she could take care of him. which caused the fights because of her stubbornness and willingness to allow herself to properly grieve. everyone in the team and her own husband and sons could tell that jj was struggling but was refusing to open up and say that she wasn't actually as okay as she was making herself out to be. typically, every day, jj would either be spending time at the bau, outside of working hours, just calmly sitting crossed-legged in front of ellianna's desk that was now covered with photos and bits and bobs, where she knew she'd be alone and when she knew that if she did cry, she wouldn't get caught or before emily took over, she would be locked up in spencer and ellianna's house, trying her hardest to comfort an inconsolable spencer reid, hugging him as tightly as she could as he sobbed rivers upon rivers of tears, anguish, grief and despair over the loss of his girlfriend. until she couldn't any longer, she'd be the one to hold the tissue box for everyone if they needed it, she'd be the one to provide and initiate the hugs, she'd be the one (alongside spencer and then later emily) to check up on ellianna's family, her siblings most especially, and she would be the one that drowns herself in everyone's paperwork because those were all distractions.

these things were all distractions to stop jj from wallowing in her own painful grief that she was still so stubborn about admitting to everyone, but most especially to herself. however, it wasn't until her regular check-in call with her husband, will, that she finally admitted to her husband and herself (after trying to once again stubbornly deny it) that she really wasn't okay. as soon as that phone call to her husband was over and jj found herself unable to stop crying, that was when everyone turned in support for jj. showering her with the same love and comfort that she showered them in as emily told jj that she could now grieve as she (emily) took over all of jj's old jobs of taking care of spencer and ellianna's family until jj was able to stomach it all again.

𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚜

emily was one that struggled with the loss of ellianna in a major way. the thing that hurt emily the most about the loss of ellianna was that the older girl still had so much more things left that she wanted to say to the young thirty-year-old that, she could no longer tell them to her. it broke emily's heart to pieces that the only thing she had left of the young girl who she saw as a younger sister was the photos, videos, text messages and voicemails that she shared and coowned with ellianna. it was times like this, times of immense grief, that emily just wished that she had eidetic memory as spencer did. she'd only wished that she had the eidetic memory so she could remember every single thing, small, medium and big, that she did with and alongside her best friend. all she wanted was just to remember the reason that she made ellianna laugh or smile on the fifth day of the sixth month one year ago because emily's biggest fear was forgetting everything about her best friend, ssa ellianna johnson. whilst it was known how well emily could hold back her tears and suppress her emotions, she could do it well especially when she took over jj's job of consoling spencer and ellianna's family. when it came to the loss and grieving process of ellianna, it seemed as if anything and everything about her best friend for a while made the older girl teary-eyed. one of the many things that would consume emily's time and grieving process when she wasn't visiting spencer or the rest of the johnson family, was to go back through her phone and look back at the photos, watch back those videos, read those text messages and listen to those voicemails left behind by ellianna. when emily was looking through her phone records to find her favourite voice message that ellianna had sent her, she hadn't realised that the morning before ellianna's death, she had a missed call from the young agent. that was just enough to tear open emily's heart and make her cry, however, it wasn't until her shaky finger pressed the play button to the voicemail and heard her best friend's voice again that really made the older agent cry more.

ellianna

"hey em, it's just me, ellianna. i'm sorry if i've called you at the wrong time, which, i most likely have considering you didn't answer and we've just been called out to our case. thank god it's a local one, am i right? but, anyway, that's not the point, the point is that i just thought i'd ring you just in case something was to go pear-shaped and slightly wrong... umm, if peter does go off the rails and escalates and ends up killing me, please don't cry over me all the time. even though that sounds harsh, just know that i wouldn't have felt a single thing and i died with the biggest smile on my face because he didn't get the chance to hurt you guys or spencer let alone any other teenager or child. also, i just have one wish though in regards if my uncle does end up killing me. please, take care of yourself but, also take care of spence. if i get murdered, it'll absolutely knock him down for six and flip his whole world around on its head. please, make sure that he doesn't shut down and run away from everyone as he did after maeve. but, do let him cry for as long as he has to. but, also, promise that he'll start smiling again as i would love to see him be happy again. if he can find it within himself, i want to see him fall in love again, i want to see him get married and become a father. he deserves all the happiness in the world and, i know he felt his happiest when we were together and, i feel the same exact same way but, i seriously doubt i'll make it out of today's case alive and in all honesty, i'm okay with that..."

"...please don't cry over me for too long, okay emily? and, if you could play this voicemail to the rest of the team, i'd be most grateful. i love you guys all so much, and that is not a word of a lie. you guys gave me a purpose in this world and you guys gave me something i never thought was possible. being a part of the bau for the last ten years has brought me some of the happiest memories contrary to the horror and trauma we've seen and gone through, if i could repeat it and go back in time, i would do it all again if it meant i could spend more time with you guys. i love you all so much and, please, emily, never stop smiling... oh and, please, reconsider your resignation. i don't want you to leave, especially if it's after my death. this team will need you more than ever after i die if i die today, and, i wouldn't wish for you to resign so early when you've still got too much power and drive left in you. okay, uhh, i gotta go as spencer's giving me a look of "i need to hurry up"... so, umm, bye emily prentiss and to the rest of my beautiful, powerful family that is the behavioural analysis unit. i love you all so much, it's been a pleasure to be a part of this family, ellianna johnson,"

after hearing that voicemail, whilst it destroyed emily and the rest of the team to their cores, it also brought them loads of comfort and became the source of their comfort and roads to individual recovery - spencer's included. however, emily kept her best friend's promise and revoked her resignation and she decided to stay with the bau because it was the final wish of her best friend, ellianna johnson, supervisory special agent.

𝚍𝚛 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚒𝚍

it was quite obvious from the beginning as to who would be the most grief-stricken from ellianna's murder. the moment that ellianna sacrificed herself to save her boyfriend's life, spencer was terrified and already beginning to start in his grieving process. he knew he wouldn't be able to save her and that the rest of their team would be too slow in finding the warehouse in time to save them both and that devastated him the most with that being the main reason for his heightened grief and devastation. spencer drowned in grief for days that spanned over weeks and then months. over those months, he had cried tears that could have also been tears shed due to all of his other past traumas that had resurfaced after the death of his ultimate lover. whilst he appreciated the comfort that jj and then emily alongside the rest of the team supplied him with, nothing was going to bring him more comfort than ellianna being home, her shoulder being the shoulder he cried on, not jj's or emily's or anyone else's. no one else's shoulder brought spencer the same amount of comfort that his girlfriend's warmth and light gave him. in regards to crying, that meant that he was easily going through at least five kleenex boxes a day, maybe even six or seven if he was really crying a lot. the toughest part about ellianna's death wasn't the fact that wept his way through the entire funeral, barely able to stay on his own two feet without collapsing whilst he said the eulogy that he had written for her but, the court date for peter johnson's trial where spencer, amongst others from ellianna's family, his unit chief hotch, to some of peter johnson's survivors had taken to the witness stand and testify against the serial killer and prove evidence to why peter johnson should be jailed for the rest of his living, breathing days. that day was an absolute nightmare for the grieving boy wonder. he had never been so helpless, vulnerable and empty in his entire life until that moment. he had to tell the judge and the entire court from start to finish of ellianna's torture and murder because he was, other than peter himself, the only other witness to the serial murder that could testify against the elderly man, emily and jj who watched through the live feed had tried to coerce the judge into having either or both of them to testify but weren't allowed to because whilst they did witness it, they didn't see all of it as spencer had done. the sobs that left the doctor's mouth as he tried to get through his witness statement wracked his body as he tried as hard as he could to calm down to a state in which his speech could be understood clearly. which, when he did, it seemed just as unbearable for the judge and the fellow jury members to hear what had happened to the young ssa ellianna johnson without either feeling sick to their stomachs or bursting out into their own fits of tears.

by the time peter johnson's trial had finished and was successfully found guilty only after one hour of deliberation and sentenced to life imprisonment with the possibility of being placed on death row, it felt as though all the tears that dehydrated and exhausted spencer's body weren't cried for no reason. finally, after thirty years, ellianna had her family's last name no longer dragged through the mud because their serial killer uncle, son, brother and grandfather had now been placed behind bars forever where he was no longer capable of torturing and killing anyone else. the one positive of ellianna's death for spencer was the fact that her family and all the other families of the deceased and surviving victims were also finally given justice, peace and just a small slither of closure as to what happened to their loved ones that never got to come home like ellianna wasn't allowed to.

- - -

yes, i rewrote all of it, including this author's note, don't @ me, i've started rewatching criminal minds again and i hated how i originally wrote the majority of my cm one-shots so you will most likely see them rewritten in lowercase haha.

ok ily bye xx

wc; 7307

#drspencerreid #criminalminds #angst #derekmorgan #jennifer jareau #emilyprentiss

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xtruss · 1 year ago

Text

On Killing Charles Dickens

I did everything I could to avoid writing my historical novel. When I finally started “The Fraud,” one principle was clear: no Dickens.

— By Zadie Smith | July 3, 2023

In nineteenth-century London, all roads seemed to lead back to Dickens. Illustration by Javier Jaén; Source photographs Getty; Wellcome Collection

For the first thirty years of my life, I lived within a one-mile radius of Willesden Green Tube Station. It’s true I went to college—I even moved to East London for a bit—but such interludes were brief. I soon returned to my little corner of North West London. Then suddenly, quite abruptly, I left not just the city but England itself. First for Rome, then Boston, and then my beloved New York, where I stayed ten years. When friends asked why I’d left the country, I’d sometimes answer with a joke: Because I don’t want to write a historical novel. Perhaps it was an in-joke: only other English novelists really understood what I meant by it. And there were other, more obvious reasons. My English father had died. My Jamaican mother was pursuing a romance in Ghana. I myself had married an Irish poet who liked travel and adventure and had left the island of his birth at the age of eighteen. My ties to England seemed to be evaporating. I would not say I was entirely tired of London. No, I was not yet—in Samuel Johnson’s famous formulation—“tired of life.” But I was definitely weary of London’s claustrophobic literary world, or at least the role I had been assigned within it: multicultural (aging) wunderkind. Off I went.

Like many expats, we thought about returning. Lots of factors kept us abroad, not least of which the complication of a child, and the roots she swiftly put down. Still, periodically, we would give in to fits of regret and nostalgia, two writers worrying away at the idea that they had travelled too far from the source of their writings. After all, a writer can be deracinated to death. . . . Sometimes, to make ourselves feel better, we’d make the opposite case. Take Irish writers—we’d say to ourselves—take Beckett and Joyce. See also: Edna O’Brien. See also: Colum and Colm. Didn’t they all write about home while living many miles away from it? Then the doubt would creep back in again. (The Irish always being an exceptional case.) What about French writers? Caribbean writers? African writers? Here the data seemed less conclusive. Throughout all this equivocation, I kept clinging to the one piece of data about which I felt certain: any writer who lives in England for any length of time will sooner or later find herself writing a historical novel, whether she wants to or not. Why is that? Sometimes I think it’s because our nostalgia loop is so small—so tight. There are, for example, people in England right now who can bring themselves to Proustian tears at the memory of the Spice Girls or MiniDiscs or phone boxes—it doesn’t take much—and this must all have an effect on our literary culture. The French tend to take the term nouveau roman literally. Meanwhile, the English seem to me constitutionally mesmerized by the past. Even “Middlemarch” is a historical novel! And though plenty English myself, I retained a prejudice against the form, dating back to student days, when we were inclined to think of historical novels as aesthetically and politically conservative by definition.

If you pick up a novel and find that it could have been written at any time in the past hundred years, well, then, that novel is not quite doing its self-described job, is it? Surely, it’s in the very DNA of the novel to be new? So I have always thought. But, over time, the specious logic of these student arguments has come under some pressure, specifically after I read several striking examples of the genre. “Memoirs of Hadrian,” by Marguerite Yourcenar, is not written in Latin, and “Measuring the World,” by my friend Daniel Kehlmann, is not in old German. Even the language of “Wolf Hall” has very little to do with real Tudor syntax: it is Mantellian through and through. All three bring news. Not all historical fiction cosplays its era, and an exploration of the past need not be a slavish imitation of it. You can come at the past from an interrogative angle, or a sly remove, and some historical fiction will radically transform your perspective not just on the past but on the present. These ideas are of course obvious to long-term fans of historical fiction, but they were new to me. I laid down my ideological objection. Which was lucky—and self-serving—because around 2012 I stumbled upon a story from the nineteenth century that I knew at once had my name all over it. It concerned a court battle of 1873—among the longest in British history—in which Arthur Orton, a butcher from Wapping, claimed to be Sir Roger Tichborne, the long-missing, presumed-drowned heir to the Doughty-Tichborne estate.

The plight of the Tichborne Claimant, as he came to be known, was a cause célèbre of its day, not least because the Claimant’s star witness and stoutest defender turned out to be a Jamaican ex-slave called Andrew Bogle, who had worked for the Tichbornes and insisted that he recognized Sir Roger. Now, one might imagine that the court testimony of a poor black man in 1873 would be met with widespread skepticism, but the British Public—like its cousin, the American People—is full of surprises, and having seen so many working-class defendants mistreated by bourgeois juries, Etonian lawyers, and aristocratic judges, the people were more than ready to support a poor man’s claim to be a rich one. Huge crowds filled the courtroom, eager to see one of their own win, for once. (A perverse sentiment, perhaps, but one we might recognize from the O.J. trial.) Bogle and his butcher became national heroes.

This extraordinary story struck me like a found art object: perfect for my purposes. One of those gifts from the universe a writer gets once in a lifetime. But it was eight years before I finally sat down at my desk to unwrap it. In the meantime, I did everything I could to avoid writing my historical novel. I stayed in America, far from British libraries and court transcripts. We had another child. I wrote four more books. But, through it all, I continued to lurk around the subject in a casual way, like a nervous woman on a dating app, never quite swiping right. I would read a few history books, make some notes, get anxious, put the idea back in the drawer. I still did not want to write a historical novel. I feared the amount of work involved. This worry was not eased by watching my New York neighbor—the aforementioned Daniel Kehlmann—doing the necessary reading for another historical novel, “Tyll,” set in Germany during the Thirty Years’ War. He did it at the N.Y.U. playground, while his child played with ours. He did it on park benches. He did it in libraries. He seemed to do it day and night for about five years. Whenever I asked him how it was going, he would say it was exhausting and the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life: “Like doing a Ph.D. and writing a novel simultaneously. So many notes!” I did not like the sound of that. Generally speaking, I don’t make notes. I sit down. I write a novel. But already this non-novel that I was refusing to write had generated a drawer full of notes and a shelf of books. I said to myself: my studying days are over. I said to myself: if you let this happen it will play to your worst, your most long-winded, your most Dickensian instincts. Already every Tichborne thread I pulled seemed to lead to yet another rich tapestry of nineteenth-century life, one that required yet more books to be ordered, and another folder of notes to be made. I was already profoundly boring the members of my household: “Did you know that in 1848 . . . ” I said to myself: Zadie, your novels are long enough when they’re about nothing! What’s going to happen when actual facts are involved? Walk away, Smith, walk away!

Hanging over all this anxiety was the long shadow of Dickens. To be my age, bookish, and born in England was to grow up under that tiresomely gigantic influence. Dickens was everywhere. He was in school and on the shelves at home and in the library. He invented Christmas. He was in politics, influencing changes in labor law, educational law, even copyright law. He was the original working-class hero—radiant symbol of our supposed meritocracy—as well as a crown jewel of the English Heritage tourist industry. (In other words, he was posthumously manipulated by many different sections of British society to score a variety of political points.) He was also everywhere I wanted to be: in the theatre, in Italy, in America. Televised versions of his books were on rotation—there is a case to be made that Dickens is the reason that we have prestige-TV miniseries in the first place—and he was in the goddam Muppets and all over Hollywood, in conscious adaptation and unconscious theft. I personally read far too much of him as a child, and though I grew up to have all the usual doubts and caveats about him—too sentimental, too theatrical, too moralistic, too controlling—I was also never able to quite get out from under his embarrassing influence, as much as I’ve often wanted to. So it went with my surreptitious research. No matter where I found myself in nineteenth-century London, I’d run into Dickens. In the main chapters, in the index, in parentheses or out of them—all roads led back to Charles. There didn’t seem to be a nineteenth-century pot he didn’t have his finger in.

I could be minding my own business reading about, say, an uprising in Jamaica, and suddenly there he was again, signing a petition on the matter. I’d be reading about a long-dead, long-forgotten writer, William Harrison Ainsworth—a resident of my neighborhood—and there Dickens would be, befriending him. I’d read a book about American slavery and discover him in the footnotes! At which point I’d find myself saying, Oh, hi, Charles, like an actual crazy person. Then lockdown arrived, and like everyone else I went a little crazy. I hunted down every out-of-print William Harrison Ainsworth novel. (He wrote more than forty; they’re mostly awful.) I grew increasingly interested in William’s housekeeper, a woman called Eliza Touchet. I became obsessed with the plantation on which Andrew Bogle had been enslaved—the Hope Estate—and the long, brutal entanglement between England and Jamaica. I read several books about the Tichborne Claimant and thought a lot about fraud: fake identities, fake news, fake relationships, fake histories. When I tried to explain to anyone what all these subjects had in common, I did not sound like a person writing a historical novel as much as a person who had entirely lost the plot. Or perhaps: who had rediscovered plot. I called my novel “The Fraud.” And then, in May, 2020, just as I finally put finger to keyboard, we moved back to England, in time to join the British lockdown.

With nothing to do and nowhere to go, I took my regulation walk through the streets like my fellow-Britons, but with the small difference that my eyes always remained above shop level: trained upward to the eaves and the cornices and the chimneys. Toward the nineteenth century, in other words, which is everywhere in North West London, once you start looking. I began haunting the local graveyards. I found William Ainsworth’s grave and Eliza Touchet’s grave, and could point on a map to the unmarked pauper’s grave of the Tichborne Claimant, as well as the corner of King’s Cross where Bogle breathed his last. It was 2020 outside but 1870 in my head. I had effectively completely conceded: I was back in England and I was writing a historical novel. My pride rested now on one principle: no Dickens. This meant—at the very least—no orphans, no lengthy Dickensian descriptions, and absolutely no mean women called Mrs. Spitely or cowards called Mr. Fearfaint, or what have you. To insure this, I was careful to reread no Dickens, and, aside from his frequent appearances in my research materials, I tried my best to put the man out of my mind. But one of the lessons of writing fiction is that truth is stranger than it. The fact that a real person I was writing about was called Eliza Touchet—and that this same woman was beginning to bloom in my mind, until she dwarfed all the other characters—meant that I now had to face the prospect of my novel strongly featuring a woman whose name even Dickens would have considered a bit too on the nose. Touché, Mrs. Touchet! But that wasn’t even the last joke Dickens had to play on me, from beyond the grave.

About halfway through my research, his name started leaping up out of the footnotes and into the main body of the text, as a real-life actor in the events I was concerned with, and it became clear to me that in order to tell the whole of my true story there was really no way to entirely avoid Mr. Charles Dickens making an actual appearance in my actual pages. For several years, he was a regular dinner guest of Ainsworth’s. He was involved in a debate about the future of Jamaica. (He was on the wrong side of the debate.) Most mind-bogglingly, Doughty Street—where Dickens once lived—is in that corner of South East Bloomsbury which belongs to the Doughty-Tichborne estate. Which meant that Dickens’s former home was a piece of what my Claimant was trying to claim. Dickens was everywhere, like weather.

Sometimes, in writing, you have to give up control, take a Zen attitude, and go where you’re being led, which is often right back to where you came from. So I said to Mr. Dickens: Look. You can have a walk-on part, but then I am killing you in the following chapter, straightaway. You won’t be hanging around and you won’t be making any witty speeches or imparting any wisdom. I was as good as my word, killing him in a paragraph, in a very brief, un-Dickensian chapter titled “Dickens Is Dead!” Immediately, I felt that sense of catharsis which people often believe writing brings but which I myself have experienced only rarely. Look at me! (I said to myself.) I just killed Dickens! (By describing his sudden death and subsequent burial at Westminster Abbey.) But, not long after I wrote that triumphant scene, for practical reasons (a flashback) Charles made his inevitable return, appearing as a younger and even more irrepressible force than he had been forty pages earlier. At that point, I gave up. I let him pervade my pages, in the same way he stalks through nineteenth-century London. He’s there in the air and the comedy and the tragedy and the politics and the literature. He’s there where he had no business being (for example, in debates about the future of Jamaica). He’s there as a sometimes oppressive, sometimes irresistible, sometimes delightful, sometimes overcontrolling influence, just as he was in life. Just as he has always been in my life. But childhood influences are like that. They drive you crazy precisely because your debt to them is far larger than you want to know or care to admit. See also: parents.

Eleven years later, at the very end of the long gestation and writing period of my historical novel, I closed my laptop and said to myself: I know he often infuriates you, but the truth is you never could have written this without him. With this debt in mind, then, I decided to do something I have avoided doing all my London life: I made a pilgrimage to Westminster Abbey. Walked around the back to Poets’ Corner and stood right on Charles Dickens’s grave. Oh, hi, Charles. Feeling my debt, but also hoping that it was paid in full, at long last. And when I got back home, completely finished with the unavoidable Mr. Dickens and his influence and wanting to do something that required no reading and no notes and no research at all—something like watching a bit of telly—I turned on the good old BBC, and what was on the menu? A new “Great Expectations.” A “color-blind” version, sure, but still “Great Expectations.” Oh, hi, Charles. Hello and goodbye and hello again. ♦

— Published in the July 10 & 17, 2023 Issue, The New Yorker with the headline “Killing Dickens.”

#Life and Letters #The New Yorker Magazine #Killing Dickens

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field-promax · 2 years ago

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The Best Vending Machine Management Software for Your Business in 2023

In an age where you own vending machines all over the world and they can number in the tens of thousands, having to micromanage each one of them doesn’t cut it anymore. That is why software designed specifically for that was developed. They are known as vending management software if you haven’t heard of it. Basically, it is a software solution that was made to help a vending machine business streamline and standardize its processes. This software can come in the form of a downloadable software application for your PC, mobile apps, or even online services (SaaS).

Field Promax brings you the best vending machine management software. Sign Up Now.

For those unaware, a vending management software system is an application and IoT device-based solution that allows vending machine companies to better manage inventory and payment transactions. Basically, it is a piece of software that was made to help a vending machine business streamline and standardize its processes. So, it is the best way to automate your business processes and make sure your resources are being used to their fullest potential.

Employing vending machine management software can bring you a truckload of advantages. First of all, it replaces the outdated and manual processes that entail human errors and thus makes your business operation more efficient. Besides, automating the system adds more transparency, scalability, and productivity to your operations, enabling you to deliver better service quality and, therefore, an enhanced customer experience. Furthermore, these advanced digital tools give managers and business owners a deeper insight into the processes with in-depth reports and analytics, empowering them to take more informed decisions for their respective businesses.

Considering the plethora of benefits this software system can provide, it is only the wisest decision to sign up for vending machine software as soon as possible. In this digital age, when technology is your most valuable asset, this software solution could be the best competitive advantage for vending machine businesses. However, with hundreds of these products overflowing the market, it could be a challenging task to pick the right one.

But fret not. In this article, we have put together a list of the leading vending machine business software solutions. Go through the features, compare their prices, and decide what suits your needs the best.

1. Field Promax

Field Promax is primarily a cloud-based software for vending machine business, dedicatedly designed to help automate processes and increase efficiency. The smart, effective digital tool is widely popular across the globe for its vast range of features and impressive capabilities to streamline and standardize business processes.

Essentially, one can take care of and systematically automate the entire business operation with this stunning piece of technology. Field Promax has digital solutions for almost all tasks, like scheduling and dispatching, estimating, monitoring, reporting, invoicing, and so much more. It also features an integrated mobile application for both managers and field technicians. Using the app, technicians can clock in and clock out, accept or reject work orders, update their job status, notify the management about the time spent on a single assignment, add items and parts used to the work order so that they are calculated in the final invoice, and do so much more. Moreover, its GPS technology efficiently connects the field technicians with the management operations back in the office, thus facilitating the most systematic, efficient, and effective remote collaboration for field service management.

The highlight of Field Promax is its superior ease of use. The system has almost no learning curve, even though it has a lot of advanced features and functions. Besides, it can be accessed via personal desktops and smartphones without having to invest in any high-end gadgets or install any complex software.

To sum up, Field Promax is the ideal end-to-end field service management software solution for any service delivery business. It is put together to help your business be more productive, transparent, agile, and flexible, and that too at a surprisingly affordable price.

2. Vendsoft

The next vending management software that leads the chart is Vendsoft. It is perhaps the most efficient choice, especially for small businesses. If you’re looking to manage vending machines in a way that is fast and efficient, then you will need a program like VendSoft.

Whether you have a few vending machines or an entire fleet of them, VendSoft is a great choice for managing supply routes, creating detailed reports, and micromanaging each of them. This online service will automate every aspect of your vending machine business, allowing you to focus more on other things, increasing profits, and reducing the time that is wasted.

3. OTI Global

OTI Global is a provider of some of the best technologies for contactless payments for vending machines, and it comes with its own vending management software.

They have a complete package for any business that wants to expand their payment methods, increase their cash on hand, and provide faster payments.With multiple certified EMV solutions, they shorten the integration time to market and provide great customer support for troubleshooting.

4. Seaga Smartware 360

Seaga is a vending machine manufacturer that has also developed software to help manage information at the machine level. Their proprietary system allows operators to set pricing, manage temperature controls, input calorie information, and more. However, the software is not a comprehensive solution, and it only works with Seaga vending machines.

Boost Your Cleaning Business with Field Promax Cleaning Business Software. Book A Free Demo to Learn More.

5. Parlevel

When it comes to vending management software systems, Parlevel’s platform offers operators an all-in-one solution to help them better serve accounts and maximize profits. It covers everything from inventory management to cash accountability to route management. And best of all, it’s on a single, cloud-based platform.

Final Words

If you own lots of vending machines, you know that their maintenance is troublesome. You are well aware of all the hassles that you need to face on a regular basis to keep things running smoothly. But if you are looking for something that makes your life easier, then vending machine software is your answer.

Vending machine management software helps you automate scheduling and dispatching, track real-time data, create estimates, monitor employees, generate estimates, alert technicians, and so much more. All in all, the smart digital tool can significantly assist you with increasing service efficiency and sales.

If this is what you are looking for, pick any of the software options mentioned above. All of them are leading choices today. However, if you want the best value for your money, you should go with Field Promax. Features, affordability, ease of use, customization, flexible pricing, efficiency—whatever your criteria is, Field Promax does not only fit the bill perfectly; it gives you an all-in-one automation solution for your business. So, why settle for less? Choose only the best for your vending machine business.

For more information, contact Field Promax.

Originally Published on our website - https://www.fieldpromax.com/blog/best-vending-machine-management-software/

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dreamcatchers-husband · 3 years ago

Text

Food Research

Male Reader X Kim Sejeong

Length: 2300+

Tags: Creampie

A/N- wrote this one randomly. not many edits and such so sorry if it has a lot of typos and such.

College was a pain in the ass. You think it's safe to assume it was for almost everyone. The memories of late-night study sessions, and early morning panic attacks because of exams have never left your mind. Nevertheless, those four years were worth it once you got your degree.

A bachelor’s in agricultural science, concentrating on food science. A degree like this meant you only had one real job option, a food researcher. Now to some this job could sound annoying as it’s a lot of cooking and experimenting with different flavors but to you, it was a dream.

The love for cooking started at a young age with you being the son of a chicken shop.

The secret to the popularity of the shop was the sauce you made with your mother trying out all of these different spices and such. Those memories help influence the job you have today.

The interview process was tough and grueling with several other candidates but in the end, you were one of two people they hired to Go Research. This company in ten years quickly made its way to the top food research institute in all of South Korea. At the start they had you doing minor things, just picking up ingredients and such for the workers to experiment with.

After a year of your errand boy job, you were finally assigned to a small research team with a face you recognized. The only other new hire with you that day, Kim Sejeong. Unlike you, Sejeong was quickly added to a Research team and now had her own. You were excited to join a team and it certainly helped that Sejeong was always open to your ideas.

Six months went by as you and your team continued to work on developing new foods for the company. Your last product, salted roe fish was a hit even seeing massive sales in countries such as the US and Canada. After that success, the pressure was on for the next big product your team would develop.

It was a late Friday night and you and Sejeong found yourself in the Research lab working on the next big product, White Kimchi Ravioli.

“God I’m so tired.”

“You and I both but we need to work more on this ravioli.”

“Ugh. I feel like plankton when he said ravioli ravioli, give me the formuoli. We have been testing out this formula doing big changes to the sauce then the kimchi and then the meat and we still don’t have it down.”

“Well, it’s our job so we keep trying until we are happy with the final product to present.”

“Yeah yeah, what about this? Let’s try to put more of the kimchi than the meat at a 60/40 ratio.”

Sejeong leans over to look and looks at the small changes you do to the ravioli. As she is bending down you get a view of her ample cleavage. Sejeong may dress very professionally but those outfits didn’t hide her nice mounds.

“Y-yeah I'm gonna try it like this.”

Once you mix the new filling for the ravioli you stuff the pasta and seal it closed. Putting the ravioli in the oven you knew it was just a waiting game now.

“I’m gonna go get a cup of coffee. Do you want one?

“Um sure why not. You know how I like it.”

You can’t help but notice a small smirk appear on Sejeong’s face as she walks away. That little smirk nearly makes you crazy. All this time you spend with Sejeong, the small views of her body have been slowly building up your lust for the woman. Not only was she gorgeous but she was playful, flirty, and kind.

A few minutes pass as Sejeong finally comes back in with coffee. The cup gets placed down in front of your face as you pick it up and chug it down quickly. At the same time, you finish your drink the timer goes off informing you the ravioli are ready. Sejeong then walks over to the oven and pulls it out to cool down for a second.

“Ok test number one hundred forty-seven is now ready. Let’s try it and see how it tastes.”

Picking up a fork you split one of the ravioli and bring it up to your nose.

“From the first smell, it seems like the kimchi might be a bit too spicy but only trying it will let us know.”

Sejeong and yourself finally taste the product as you both do small chews taking in the flavor. You have to admit that this version of the ravioli that focus more on the kimchi is delicious but then the heat finally hits your mouth.

“Fuck that’s spicy!.”

“Jesus, that is hot!.”

Running to the fridge you pull out a gallon of milk and see Sejeong is running over as well. Before you could even take a sip of the milk, she takes the gallon from your hand and starts to drink the milk. All you can do is laugh for a second as the heat still attacks your taste buds. Sejeong being the “kind” friend she is, hands you back the milk to drink. Finally, as the heat leaves your mouth your eyes meet and Sejeong just smirks at you.

“You just stole the milk from me.”

“Hey, you should know it’s ladies first.”

Chuckles fill the room as you both walk back over to the test product and sit down.

“Well it tasted pretty good but there was too much heat. We need to find something that can nullify the heat.”

Like earlier Sejeong leans and looks at your paperwork for options. She seems to have gotten closer as her boobs are basically in your face. The view is amazing as your dick starts to twitch. Quickly you feel your length harden from looking at her.

“You know, I have an idea on how to bring down the heat.”

“U-um yeah?”

“I heard a rumor that there is an ingredient that helps cool down the heat from spices and adds extra flavor.”

Your chair quickly spins around as Sejeong looks right into your eyes.

“W-what is the ingredient?”

A smirk appears on Sejeong’s face as her mouth gets closer to your ear.

“Nice, hot, warm, cum.”

Those words shocked you as hands quickly grab your belt and unbuckled it.

Sure you shouldn't be doing something like this in the workplace but all reason leaves your mind as she pulls your pants down and grabs your cock in her hand. Small strokes are what your cock feels as you look down and see Sejeong just smiling at you.

“You said cum is good for the recipe so you should get to work.”

“With pleasure.”

Lips wrap around your cock as you pull your head back in pleasure. Small sucks on your tip send shivers down your spine as Sejeong swallows your entire length in one go. As she pulls her head back up for air you reach for her ponytail and guide her back down on your length. Sejeong continues to bob her head on your cock easily taking you down her throat. You notice her hands go down to her blouse as she starts to unbutton it, taking it off her body.

Your eyes are finally blessed as Sejeong unhooks her bra showing you her large breast.

“I’ve seen you eying them all these months. Now you get to enjoy them like this.”

Sejeong's tits wrap around your cock as she moves them up and down your shaft. You have never had boobs like these wrapped around your dick and it was amazing. Sejeong wraps them around together as her speed increases. The nonstop itty fuck is bringing you to the edge quickly.

“Sejeong I’m gonna cum soon.”

“I told you I need it as an ingredient.”

Much to your dismay she stops her attack on your cock and pulls out a container. Once she brings it down to your dick she strokes your cock as fast as she can. The throbbing from your dick goes wild as you finally shoot your load into the container. A few seconds pass as you feel your orgasms end and you look down at Sejeong. She gives your dick small strokes at some leftover cum leaks out your dick.

“Let me get a little taste of this ingredient.”

Her tongue gives your cock small licks all around going up and down your shaft and picking up the leftover cum. Your legs shake as she gives your tips small kisses.

“Fucking delicious.”

Sejeong now stands up and gets closer to you. You don’t care that she licked up some of your cum. Your mouth quickly attaches to hers as you kiss her aggressively. Your hands go around her waist as you bring them up and grab her boobs. Small moans leave her mouth as you give her nipples little pinches. Finally, your mouth goes down to her breast as you suck on her right nipple. After you give her nipple a small bite you twirl your tongue all around and move to the left one.

“Fuckkkk that’s good.”

Your hands move down to her pants as you unbutton them and pull them down. Once her pants are pulled down you see she has no panties on.

“You got a taste of your ingredient but I think it’s time for me to try some.”

Sejeong gets what you mean and sits down on the chair. Spreading open her legs you dive in and lick her folds. You know you have to make things quick so you raise your hands to her pussy and push two fingers in. As you pushed in you were able to find her clit quickly so your mouth attacked it. First a flick with your tongue then you swirl your tongue all around it. You feel Sejeong grab your head and wrap her legs around your head. You could almost suffocate from how tight she is holding you but her taste is intoxicating.

Once you give her clit little nibbles you hear pants leave her mouth as she almost screams.

“I-I’m gonna cum if you keep this up.”

Hearing those words just causes you to increase the speed in your hands as you open her pussy a bit and tongue fuck her. That was enough to get her to cum as her pussy squirts all over your face. Her fluids could have almost drowned you but it was fantastic the sweetness. Sejeong's grip on your head loosens as you pull yourself back. You can feel yourself hard again standing up and Sejeong notices as well.

“I got my sample for the recipe but I think I need another load from you.”

Sejeong then sits on the table as she spreads her legs again. You don’t even hesitate as your length lines up and enters her pussy. The hold her pussy has on your dick is amazing as you can only push yourself halfway in. Pulling your hip back you try once again to push your way into her pussy, finally filling Sejeong to the brim.

“Fuck! How tight are you?!”

“How fucking big are you?”

Reaching down for her hip you start to enter and exit her pussy slowly building up speed. Grunts leave your mouth as you pull Sejeong’s face to your own, kissing her. After some time you pull your mouth back and move to her neck, kissing and leavening behind love bites.

“Fuck that’s some good cock. Keep fucking my pussy baby.”

“With pleasure.”

Your aggressiveness increases as you feel her walls start to massage your cock more and more. Sejeong lays her body back a little as you feel yourself hitting another spot in her pussy. Screams start to leave her mouth as she covers herself from making more noise. You can assume you must be hitting her G-spot as her eyes start to roll back and her pussy clamps hard on your dick. Juices shoot out of her pussy as her whole body shakes.

As Sejeong comes down from her high you give her cheek small kisses calming down.

“Fuck that was good but you need to cum before we get caught so fuck me how you want.”

“I want to keep looking at your pretty face.”

You continue fucking her the same way as you pant building up your speed again. Your peak is finally arriving as you tighten your grip on her hip. You know you're about to cum finally.

“Sweetie I’m gonna cum. Where?”

“In my pussy baby!.”

You use the last of your strength to piston in and out of her pussy until you shove yourself in one last time as you cum. Shot after shot of your cum fills her pussy as you pull her lips back in for a final kiss. You aren’t quite sure how much time passes as you both pull back from the kiss gasping for air.

Pulling your dick out you look around and see the mess you made around you and look back at Sejeong.

“We need to clean up before we leave huh?”

“I’ll help, don't worry.”

“Did you hear cum is a good ingredient for the recipe?.”

“I mean you can hear a lot of shit on the internet but this was more of an excuse to fuck you. I’ve seen you eying me for a long time.”

“I mean you are freaking hot. How could I not eye you for a long time?”.

“Well I was eyeing you too but you didn’t pick up my hints.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter because now we know. We should get changed quickly and head out. We can work on the ravioli tomorrow. I think you owe me dinner now.”

You laugh as you pick up your clothes and put them back on. Once you are both changed you pick up the mess you made and head to the door and walk out of the lab.

“Alright then sweetie, what do you want to eat?”

“Something quick so I can get another sample of that ingredient tonight.”

Well, fast food it is then.

#smut #kpopsmut #sejeongsmut

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duckprintspress · 3 years ago

Text

Ten Things We Hate About Trad Pub

Often when I say “I’ve started a small press; we publish the works of those who have trouble breaking into traditional publishing!” what people seem to hear is “me and a bunch of sad saps couldn’t sell our books in the Real World so we’ve made our own place with lower standards.” For those with minimal understanding of traditional publishing (trad pub), this reaction is perhaps understandable? But, truly, there are many things to hate about traditional publishing (and, don’t get me wrong - there are things to love about trad pub, too, but that’s not what this list is about) and it’s entirely reasonable for even highly accomplished authors to have no interest in running the gauntlet of genre restrictions, editorial control, hazing, long waits, and more, that make trad pub at best, um, challenging, and at worst, utterly inaccessible to many authors - even excellent ones.

Written in collaboration with @jhoomwrites, with input from @ramblingandpie, here is a list of ten things that we at Duck Prints Press detest about trad pub, why we hate it, and why/how we think things should be different!

(Needless to say, part of why we created Duck Prints Press was to...not do any of these things... so if you’re a writer looking for a publishing home, and you hate these things, too, and want to write with a Press that doesn’t do them...maybe come say hi?)

1. Work lengths dictated by genre and/or author experience.

Romance novels can’t be longer than 90,000 words or they won’t sell! New authors shouldn’t try to market a novel longer than 100,000 words!

A good story is a good story is a good story. Longer genre works give authors the chance to explore their themes and develop their plots. How often an author has been published shouldn’t put a cap on the length of their work.

2. Editors assert control of story events...except when they don’t.

If you don’t change this plot point, the book won’t market well. Oh, you’re a ten-time bestseller? Write whatever you want, even if it doesn’t make sense we know people will buy it.

Sometimes, a beta or an editor will point out that an aspect of a story doesn’t work - because it’s nonsensical, illogical, Deus ex Machina, etc. - and in those cases it’s of course reasonable for an editor to say, “This doesn’t work and we recommend changing it, for these reasons…” However, when that list of reasons begins and ends with, “...because it won’t sell…” that’s a problem, especially because this is so often applied as a double standard. We’ve all read bestsellers with major plot issues, but those authors get a “bye” because editors don’t want to exert to heavy a hand and risk a proven seller, but with a new, less experienced, or worse-selling author, the gloves come off (even though evidence suggests time and again that publishers’ ability to predict what will sell well is at best low and at worst nonexistent.)

3. A billion rejection letters as a required rite of passage (especially when the letters aren't helpful in pinpointing why a work has been rejected or how the author can improve).

Well, my first book was rejected by a hundred Presses before it was accepted! How many rejection letters did you get before you got a bite? What, only one or two? Oh…

How often one succeeds or fails to get published shouldn’t be treated as a form of hazing, and we all know that how often someone gets rejected or accepted has essentially no bearing on how good a writer they are. Plenty of schlock goes out into the world after being accepted on the first or second try...and so does plenty of good stuff! Likewise, plenty of schlock will get rejected 100 times but due to persistence, luck, circumstances, whatever, finally find a home, and plenty of good stuff will also get rejected 100 times before being publishing. Rejections (or lack there of) as a point of pride or as a means of judging others needs to die as a rite of passage among authors.

4. Query letters, for so many reasons.

Summarize all your hard work in a single page! Tell us who you’re like as an author and what books your story is like, so we can gauge how well it’ll sell based on two sentences about it! Format it exactly the way we say or we won’t even consider you!

For publishers, agents, and editors who have slush piles as tall as Mount Everest...we get it. There has to be a way to differentiate. We don’t blame you. Every creative writing class, NaNoWriMo pep talk, and college lit department combine to send out hundreds of thousands of people who think all they need to do to become the next Ernest Hemingway is string a sentence together. There has to be some way to sort through that pile...but God, can’t there be a better way than query letters? Especially since even with query letters being used it often takes months or years to hear back, and...

5. "Simultaneous submissions prohibited.”

No, we don’t know when we’ll get to your query, but we’ll throw it out instantly if you have the audacity to shop around while you wait for us.

The combination of “no simultaneous submissions” with the query letter bottleneck makes success slow and arduous. It disadvantages everyone who aims to write full-time but doesn’t have another income source (their own, or a parents’, or a spouse’s, or, or or). The result is that entire classes of people are edged out of publishing solely because the process, especially for writers early in their career, moves so glacially that people have to earn a living while they wait, and it’s so hard to, for example, work two jobs and raise a family and also somehow find the time to write. Especially considering that the standard advice for dealing with “no simultaneous submissions” is “just write something else while you wait!” ...the whole system screams privilege.

6. Genres are boxes that must be fit into and adhered to.

Your protagonist is 18? Then obviously your book is Young Adult. It doesn’t matter how smutty your book is, erotica books must have sex within the first three chapters, ideally in the first chapter. Sorry, we’re a fantasy publisher, if you have a technological element you don’t belong here…

While some genre boxes have been becoming more like mesh cages of late, with some flow of content allowed in and out, many remain stiff prisons that constrict the kinds of stories people can tell. Even basic cross-genre works often struggle to find a place, and there’s no reason for it beyond “if we can’t pigeon-hole a story, it’s harder to sell.” This edges out many innovative, creative works. It also disadvantages people who aren’t as familiar with genre rules. And don’t get me wrong - this isn’t an argument that, for example, the romance genre would be improved by opening up to stories that don’t have “happily ever afters.” Instead, it’s pointing out - there should also be a home for, say, a space opera with a side romance, an erotica scene, and a happily-for-now ending. Occasionally, works breakthrough, but for the most part stories that don’t conform never see the light of day (or, they do, but only after Point 2 - trad pub editors insist that the elements most “outside” the box be removed or revised).

7. The lines between romance and erotica are arbitrary, random, and hetero- and cis-normative.

This modern romance novel won’t sell if it doesn’t have an explicit sex scene, but God forbid you call a penis a penis. Oh, no, this is far too explicit, even though the book only has one mlm sex scene, this is erotica.

The difference between “romance” and “erotica” might not matter so much if not for the stigmas attached to erotica and the huge difference in marketability and audience. The difference between “romance” and “erotica” also might not matter so much if not for the fact that, so often, even incredibly raunchy stories that feature cis straight male/cis straight female sex scenes are shelved as romance, but the moment the sex is between people of the same gender, and/or a trans or genderqueer person is involved, and/or the relationship is polyamorous, and/or the characters involved are literally anything other than a cis straight male pleasuring a cis straight female in a “standard” way (cunnilingus welcome, pegging need not apply)...then the story is erotica. Two identical stories will get assigned different genres based on who the people having sex are, and also based on the “skill” of the author to use ludicrous euphemisms (instead of just...calling body parts what they’re called…), and it’s insane. Non-con can be a “romance” novel, even if it’s graphically described. “50 Shades of Gray” can sell millions of copies, even containing BDSM. But the word “vagina” gets used once...bam, erotica. (Seriously, the only standard that should matter is the Envelope Analogy).

8. Authors are expected to do a lot of their own legwork (eg advertising) but then don't reap the benefits.

Okay, so, you’re going to get an advance of $2,500 on this, your first novel, and a royalty rate of 5% if and only if your advance sells out...so you’d better get out there and market! Wait, what do you mean you don’t have a following? Guess you’re never selling out your advance…

Trad pub can generally be relied on to do some marketing - so this item is perhaps better seen as an indictment of more mid-sized Presses - but, basically, if an author has to do the majority of the work themselves, then why aren’t they getting paid more? What’s the actual benefit to going the large press/trad pub route if it’s not going to get the book into more hands? It’s especially strange that this continues to be a major issue when self-publishing (which also requires doing one’s own marketing) garners 60%+ royalty rates. Yes, the author doesn’t get an advance, and they don’t get the cache of ~well I was published by…~, but considering some Presses require parts of advances to get paid back if the initial run doesn’t sell out, and cache doesn’t put food on the table...pay models have really, really got to change.

9. Fanfiction writing doesn't count as writing experience

Hey there Basic White Dude, we see you’ve graduated summa cum laude from A Big Fancy Expensive School. Of course we’ll set you up to publish your first novel you haven’t actually quite finished writing yet. Oh, Fanperson, you’ve written 15 novels for your favorite fandom in the last 4 years? Get to the back of the line!

Do I really need to explain this? The only way to get better at writing is to write. Placing fanfiction on official trad pub “do not interact” lists is idiotic, especially considering many of the other items on this list. (They know how to engage readers! They have existing followings! They understand genre and tropes!) Being a fanfiction writer should absolutely be a marketable “I am a writer” skill. Nuff said. (To be clear, I’m not saying publishers should publish fanfiction, I’m saying that being a fanfiction writer is relevant and important experience that should be given weight when considering an author’s qualifications, similar to, say, publishing in a university’s quarterly.)

10. Tagging conventions (read: lack thereof).

Oh, did I trigger you? Hahahaha. Good luck with that.

We rate movies so that people can avoid content they don’t like. Same with TV shows and video games. Increasingly, those ratings aren’t just “R - adult audiences,” either; they contain information about the nature of the story elements that have led to the rating (“blood and gore,” “alcohol reference,” “cartoon violence,” “drug reference,” “sexual violence,” “use of tobacco,” and many, many more). So why is it that I can read a book and, without warning, be surprised by incest, rape, graphic violence, explicit language, glorification of drug and alcohol use, and so so much more? That it’s left to readers to look up spoilers to ensure that they’re not exposed to content that could be upsetting or inappropriate for their children or, or, or, is insane. So often, too, authors cling to “but we don’t want to give away our story,” as if video game makes and other media makers do want to give away their stories. This shouldn’t be about author egos or ~originality~ (as if that’s even a thing)...it should be about helping readers make informed purchasing decisions. It’s way, way past time that major market books include content warnings.

Thank you for joining us, this has been our extended rant about how frustrated we are with traditional publishing. Helpful? No. Cathartic? Most definitely yes. 🤣

Have a question about writing? Drop us an ask!

Like what we do and want to support us? You can buy us a ko-fi - or get access to exclusive content by backing us on Patreon!

#duck prints press #original content #writing advice #sort of

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studiojeon · 3 years ago

Text

troubled outsiders | intro - jjk

| summary | - how you two end up pining for each other.

warnings: none :)

content: idol!jungkook x student!oc, friends to lovers (because it’s THE superior trope okurrrt), jungkook is quiet and shy but a social butterfly when needed (and when it comes to oc but you’re not supposed to know that yet), oc is both a badass and a socially akward queen, she has TWO friends and only because one is dating the other (like... same), the Lee Charyeong is her bestie, oc works at bighit and feels like everyone either fears her or hates her, author nim is a crackhead and has no plot planned for this series whatsoever (doesn’t know if she’ll keep this up, we’ll see).

words: 1.93 k

His presence was overwhelming, to say the least. Even if he were surrounded by six hundred other equally handsome men, somehow, to you (and the majority of the female population, at that point) he was as captivating and magnetic as they come. Jeon Jungkook didn't pay no mind to no one, but sure as hell everyone became hyper aware of his existence and essence in time. And that didn’t exclude you.

Yet, as nonchalant and indifferent as the man could be perceived, in reality he was more considerate and friendly than the aura he exuded. You knew this because working in the same company had to teach a thing or two about the people who literally carried said company and the whole industry at some point, still you barely knew four or three people, including your assistant and Jungkook, whom you had met once.

The opportunity of working at the company had come to you out of the blue, quite literally, you were attempting to send one of your assignments in when an email appeared in your notifications during your sailor moon study break.

HYBE Entertainment

We’re glad to inform you that you’re being recruited for the position of Logistics Manager in one of our sub companies, BIGHIT Entertainment. We’ve thoroughly looked through the CV you’ve submitted and are very interested in your capabilities and what you can contribute to our organization. One of our other managers will gladly meet you on a day you can both agree on. Make sure to answer this email to get more details about your interview.

“Nani!? THE FUCK?” sure as hell that your eyes and cognitive functions were deceiving you (ADHD) you went over the text a little over three times in a row before the message settled in your mind. This was sus.

Before even considering a reply you made a quick call. “Fucking Lee Chaeryeong” you spat on your end of the line. “You did this, didn’t you?”.

Her silence was more than enough to have you cursing her under your breath. “I don’t know what exactly you’re talking about but it most likely was me. Does it have to do with a sex toy in particular?”

“No” you denied almost monotonously, guessing the pile of boxes in the corner of your room with her names on them was what she referred to. “Does anything come to mind if i mention BIGHIT FUCKING ENTERTAINMENT?”

It was her. All those conversations during the summer about how badly you wanted to work in the entertainment business as marketing staff of some sort had their effect on your friend, who, despite all your excuses and denials, knew you better than you and your mom combined did, and because of this, was sure as hell you were not making a move towards that goal whatsoever. So, being the boss bitch she was, she took matters into her own hands, was what she explained.

You concluded that was the reason you had reached a point in your life where you had more experience than most recently graduated kids in your field, because Chaeryeong had you moving every summer break. You had been the manager of a coffee franchise and convenience store during you junior and senior years, and also figured a way to improve the marketing management strategy of a fucking restaurant while at it. Not to toot your own horn, but you were kind of cool.

Or not. “I hope this job satisfies your workaholic ass for once, I’m running out of ideas”. Chaeryeong spat before hanging up.

Sure as hell it would.

On friday afternoon, you made your way to the HYBE INSIGHT building and introduced yourself to your recruiters who promised to give you a call at some point. “It went fine” you told Chaeryeong once you were in your car. And it was the truth, however you weren’t so sure if they would actually hire you at some point since well, you were a girl in a male dominated industry and, in your opinion, there were always better people than you. “Wanna go grab coffee?”

“I want to. But, I have practice today. I’m actually on my way there. Please avoid driving through Hongdae today, this shit’s packed.” You sighed and thanked her for the heads up. You missed your friend, badly. You hadn’t seen each other in three weeks, and you didn’t even live so far away from each other (you did, but it had been worse before). You two had very agitated lives to say the least. Chaeryeong was a kpop group member, and well, you were jumping from job to job and getting your phD in Business Management at the same time. It was hard to find moments to spare together during some periods of the year, but you guess the anticipation made your encounters better.

“Talk about anticipation” you slammed your forehead against your desk, taking a breather after such an anxiety packed situation. Short story: you got the job (for some fucking reason). And you had gone through a whole week of expectancy and anguish. Not getting that job would have broken your heart, and ego at the same time.

You guessed the law of attraction tactics Chaeryeong had taught you had sorted their effect and were what led you to your current position in life.

“Miss _____, your presentation’s ready” your work assistant gave you a comforting pat in the back as she took a seat somewhere next to you. You were nervous, shitless. It was your fifth week at the job, and being the proactive woman you were, you had collected lots of data in order to come up with a resources management plan.

It was a Thursday afternoon, and more than a hundred people sat in front of you, waiting for your speech. Including him, who you’d once bumped into accidentally during one of your data recollections runs inside the building.

You hated having the need to impress others yet, hence your anxious behaviour. But this was a decisive moment in regards to your validation in your new job and how you’d continue to be perceived during your work stance (no reason to panic at all)… you needed to get it together.

“I think I just pissed off a bunch of old men right now,” you told your assistant right after you got off stage. “I need a bathroom break”. Linh gave you a reassuring smile, one she always had plastered on her face.

“Take as long as you need to. I’ll give you a call once the rest are done”.

The commute to the bathroom was unnecessarily complicated in your opinion. You had spent a little over a month rushing through the hallways of the building and you swore every single day your spatial orientation got a bit more fucked up. There was no way there wasn’t a single bathroom on the floor you were in, that would just be atrocious. “It’s not completed yet” someone said beside you as you stared at the half empty map the company had projected on a wall next to the elevators. “Where do you need to go?”

Kim Taehyung of all people in the world was talking to your ugly and unworthy ass. Your breath caught in your throat and after staring for at least five seconds your body finally reacted to your orders. “Oh, um… the bathroom. I’ve been looking for it for a good ten minutes” you explained with a nervous laugh.

“Trust me, I get it. I still get lost over here” he smiled gently. “It’s in the hallway in the middle of the next hallway”

You laughed at his very ambiguous explanation. “Thank you” you bowed your head and made your way to said destination.

It was in the hallway to your left, not your right, and it took you a while to figure out that new piece of information. Once you were staring at yourself in the mirror, you realized that you looked considerably tired and exhausted from all the social interaction you had undergone throughout the day. You were used to the side stares and whispering you’d get whenever you entered a room at that point, but some days you just wished you could get a break from them. After all, it wasn’t your fault you didn’t look Korean at all, and that you also didn’t fit the stereotype of a foreigner.

You got that from your mom, both the non Korean features and social fatigue. But that wasn’t even the problem most of the time, it was your friendly and smart nature which she had also passed onto you. Some would consider it a blessing, but to you it was a burden, like a clear glass that shielded you from introducing yourself into other people’s realities. You had few friends and people to trust, but in your everyday life you had to deal with the pressure of standing out too much and that came with a lot of negative energy from others. You sigh as you spray your favorite fragrance on yourself. You could be feeling like shit, but no one will ever catch you slipping.

But that excluded him apparently. You hadn’t noticed that on the other side of the hallway was the men’s bathroom and the realization hit you as you were calmly getting some tea from the vending machine. “Good afternoon” the man greeted you as he made his way out the hallway, but stopped in his tracks right after he noticed you. “_____! Hi” he smiled at you and you wanted to die, suddenly forgetting what you were ordering in the first place.

“H-hi Jungkook” You smiled back, poorly attempting to put your wallet back into your backpack.

“Need help there?” he noticed your agitated state and held your bag for you. He smelled just as heavenly as you had expected, somewhat between big dick energy and flowers. Oh, and he also remained as kind and polite as you remembered him.

Seeming as if he wasn’t planning on continuing his path to wherever he was heading to in the first place, he stood quietly by your side, waiting for you to be done with your deal. “How have you been?” you break the ice for him.

Quickly, you grab your tea and start walking back to the auditorium together, unaware of your surroundings or the suspicions that could arise. “Busy, but very good. How have you been? I saw your presentation earlier… I wish I understood half of what you said but you still sounded amazing”.

And you would never admit it out loud, but you were positive you were blushing (and falling in love too - platonically, of course). “Oh god, you think so? I basically told them they’ve been doing things wrong all along so maybe you’re the only one who’s appreciative of my work” you handed him the second can of iced tea you bought without him noticing. You swear his eyes lit up like stars in the night sky. “Payback for the other day” you smile at him.

The first time you two had crossed paths you didn’t look nearly as glamorous as you did now. In fact, you looked incredibly disturbed and in pain, carrying a huge pile of paperwork in your hands. But as soon as sweet Jungkook noticed your state, he offered you a hand and somehow ended up helping through your multiple data collecting trips that afternoon. It was a nice day.

“Anytime” he took the can in his hands with a shy look on his face. “Unless I’m practicing, you know…” you look down at his feet, with huge black boots engulfing them, and you smile due to their contrast with his personality. “Here, i’ll give you my number so you can call me whenever you need to put all those papers back. Hopefully I’ll be around” he added as he pulled his phone from his back pocket.

Way to get a girl’s number, my god.

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just-come-baek · 4 years ago

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bet on it

Pairing: Na Jaemin x female!reader

Word count: 21.2k

Summary: One day, Jaemin stops by with a strange request. Any other person would just laugh in his face and refuse in a second. Unfortunately, I, being the dumbass I am, agree to it. Soon enough, everything gets out of hand, causing much more drama than we could ever predict.

Or in other words, Jaemin shouldn’t bet on things he knows he can’t win.

A/N it’s an instalment for love letters event hosted by neosmutcollective, I hope you enjoy my jaemin entry as well as other entries written by my friends from the network, check out the event tags too, and yeah, happy valentine's day! 😏 💖

***

“What?” I yelled, almost spitting my tea. No, I must’ve heard him wrong. Jaemin wouldn’t be stupid enough to do that. It had to be a joke. Or I must’ve imagined him say that. “You don’t mean that,” I added, still in shock, trying to comprehend what just happened.

“Come on, Noona,” Jaemin whined, staring right into my eyes, wishing for me to say yes to his ridiculous proposal. “I wouldn’t suggest that if I knew we couldn’t pull through.”

With a sigh, I shook my head. Jaemin’s proposition was absurd, and I couldn’t believe I was about to ask him again to walk me through it.

Damn me and my curiosity.

“Before I make my mind about this… tell me what the fuck led you guys to make that stupid bet. Then, and only then, I will still say no, but in good faith,” I demanded, smiling at Jaemin, knowing I wouldn’t make it easy for him to convince me. The odds weren’t in his favor, and he really had to put in lots of effort if he really wanted me on board.

“So we were chilling after practice, and then Haechan started to tease me that I have no game anymore,” Jaemin started, and I rolled my eyes. Of course, I should’ve figured it out. A man in his age apparently is a failure unless he has a different girl in his bed at least 3 nights a week, moaning his name at the top of her voice. Even though Jaemin doesn’t have a competitive nature, it still provoked him into agreeing to this absurd bet.

Life must be though with an ego so fragile…

Jaemin isn’t a fuckboy, yet he still has a fair share of love conquests. Though I had no idea whether it was true or not, he must have fallen a little behind the others – otherwise, they wouldn’t tease him about it.

“And then I said his mother must’ve dropped him on the head if he really thinks that,” Jaemin carried on. I nodded my head, trying to wrap my head around this preposterous situation. “Then, I said I could seduce any girl I want,” he added proudly, making me want to flicker his forehead, hoping it would knock some sense into that empty skull at the top of his neck.

“Okay, but how the hell did you end up with having to seduce me? This is the part I have the most trouble understanding,” I pointed out, cocking my eyebrow.

“Then, Chenle suggested we bet on it, and I agreed to it,” Jaemin whispered, looking away, sounding both regretful and shy. “I urged them to pick any girl, so Haechan looked around to choose my next conquest. It was the time when you and Ten were walking to the dance studio, and that bastard suggested you.”

So it was Haechan’s doing – I should’ve figured this one out. He was the only one wicked enough to possibly ruin somebody’s friendship because of a stupid bet.

Or, it was quite genius of him – maybe he figured Jaemin would not cross this line, choosing our friendship over winning this imbecilic bet.

“And you were confident you can woo me? What about our friendship? Does it mean anything to you?” I inquired, curious of what was going inside his head when he agreed to this half-witted bet. Did he seriously think we could have sex and then forget all about it?

“It’s not like that! I don’t want to woo you. I mean… I could, and you would be very much aware if I tried to hit on you, and you would fall for me. No doubts on that,” Jaemin spoke confidently, grinning like an idiot with ego blown way out of proportion. “But–“

Jaemin was about to say something dense, so before more bullshit managed to leave his mouth, I hit him with a cutting board. Jaemin whined, but I was sure he was exaggerating for comedy purposes. My hit was calculated and balanced – it was powerful enough for him to understand it wasn’t a good idea, but at the same, it was not going to cause any permanent damage to his brain. I’d never purposefully do that to him.

“We’re not having sex. Get that shit inside your head,” I interjected, pouring my herbal tea down my throat, already thinking about making another cup. This conversation was making me uncomfortable, and I wanted to put an end to it. Perhaps another lemon balm tea would calm my nerves.

Ignoring his penetrating gaze, I shuffled around the kitchen, setting the kettle on the stove. In the meantime, Jaemin walked around the kitchen island and grabbed me by my shoulders, looking straight into my eyes.

“Come on, Noona, I am not asking you to sleep with me,” Jaemin defended his case, quite determined to pull me on his side.

“Well… it looks exactly like you’re asking me to sleep with you,” I cut in, walking around him to the cabinet to get a fresh tea bag. I’ve really had enough of this bullshit.

“We could just make it look like like we did,” he carried on, and I heaved a deep sigh, regretting even letting him in today. I had this extremely boring essay to write, and at this point, I’d rather begin my research on whatever topic my professor assigned.

“It’s still a no from me, sorry,” I replied harshly, crashing Jaemin’s expectations. Judging by the look on his face, it wasn’t the outcome he anticipated when he decided to knock on my doors. “What happens when you lose that bet? Well… except for your pride, of course.”

“500 dollars.”

“Ouch, sowwy, I hope you can afford that,” I added with a fake smile, patting him on the shoulder, being well aware this amount of money was a game-changer to Jaemin’s budget. If he won, he would have the time of his life, spoiling himself. However, if he lost, he’d have to eat instant ramen on every meal for the entire month. “Either way, I hope it will teach you a lesson to not bet on things you know you can’t win.”

“Ugh, fine,” Jaemin groaned in disappointment, reaching for my hands, holding them carefully as if they were made of china. “If you help me, I’ll give you half of the money,” he proposed, and I looked at our hands linked together, then quickly shifted my gaze to his eyes. “If you help me win, you’ll get 250 dollars, and you’ll be finally able to buy those fancy shoes you wanted so bad. What do you say?”

When did he get so persuasive?

It was a low blow.

Jaemin knew that these shoes were tempting me ever since I had seen them. Multiple times, my thumb hovered over the add-to-cart button. Every time, I resisted the temptation last minute upon seeing the price tag, though. This purchase was way out of my budget. However, now, when the new income opportunity presented itself, it made me wonder.

Suddenly, the kettle began to whistle, bringing me down to Earth from that ridiculous train of thought. Shaking my head, I tore my hands out of Jaemin’s gentle grasp, fidgeting back to the stove, pouring boiling water into the cup.

“Okay, fine, but I have a few questions first,” I gave up after a short pause for intense pondering, and Jaemin smiled brightly in instant gratitude and relief. Without my help, he would be doomed. “And then, if I like the answers, I have a few conditions.”

“Anything.”

“Okay, so first of all, how much time do we have to do the deed,” I inquired as I blew some air before taking a cautious sip.

“About two weeks,” Jaemin mentioned after a while as he had counted on his fingers how many days we have to team up and win five hundred dollars for us. “Officially, we have to do it before Jaehyun’s birthday party,” he specified, and I hummed, realizing it is very little time.

“You seriously think I am that easy? Outrageous,” I gasped, throwing a fake tantrum as I made my way around him to sit down on the barstool on the other side of the kitchen island.

“No, of course not,” Jaemin quickly realized what I was getting on, so he smiled sheepishly, already trying to figure out the best wording to calm me down. “I am just that good,” he added, and I leaned over to smack his shoulder. “Kidding,” he defended himself, stepping out of my reach. “Renjun proposed this party, I mean, it’s the easiest way they can verify we did it,” Jaemin carried on, and I cursed under my breath.

How convenient.

“But we’re not going to do the fucking,” I stated, as a matter of fact, repeating myself in order to make sure we were both on the same page. As much as it would be pleasant to actually do it with him, never under these circumstances.

“No, we’re not, but I guess we can sneak out upstairs to one of the unoccupied rooms, and once we make sure they’re listening, you can just shout how good I’m fucking you,” Jaemin reasoned, and I sighed as regret once again washed through me.

“That’s creepy,” I commented as my mind conjured an image of a group of peeping Toms, eavesdropping on our sex session. Once again, I felt the temptation to drop out of this deal, but then, another thought crossed my mind. “Ugh, fine, I’ll do it. All I have to do is shout for two minutes, and then, these cute shoes will be mine.”

“Two minutes? Are you insane?” Jaemin hollered, offended by my comment. “It happened once, and it was ages ago. I’ve learned plenty of tricks since then,” he blabbered, acting way too defensive for his past mishap. “Just let me live in peace, please.”

“Okay, so we have established the deadline, and although it’s not enough time for anyone to woo me, let’s go with it.”

“Thank you! I knew I could count on you,” Jaemin replied with gleeful enthusiasm as he sat down on the barstool beside me and pressed a chaste kiss against my knuckles.

“But you have to go overboard with the courting,” I added, making Jaemin groan. Hard work wasn’t his best suit, but this time, he really had to try his best, or I’d have to turn him down at Jaehyun’s party. “You really have to make it believable and super romantic. Otherwise, I’m out,” I clarified, and Jaemin nodded, though unwillingly.

“Fine, any other wishes in mind?”

“Once we win the bet, we have to end this whole fake-dating fiasco immediately,” I announced, already planning ahead. It was easy to win the bet, but the most difficult part was getting back to normal. If we planned to fake-date in order to fake-fuck, then it was reasonable to figure out how we’re going to fake-break up.

“We should agree on admitting it was the best sex of our lives, but despite that, we value our friendship even more, so we decided to remain friends. How does it sound?” Jaemin suggested, and I had to once again resist the temptation to roll my eyes.

“I agree with the overall message, but later, we have to work on proper delivery.”

***

On the very next day, Jaemin and I decided to implement our secret plan.

Since I specifically asked to be courted in an over-the-top manner, Jaemin suggested going to the cinema. There were no attention-grabbing titles screened, yet ultimately, we agreed on watching the very last projection of the sequel to Wonder Woman.

“Go get the snacks, I’ll buy the tickets,” I ordered once we stepped into the cinema area of the nearest shopping mall. It was two o’clock in the afternoon, so the establishment wasn’t crowded. Except for us, there was only a family of three slowly making their way to the exit.

“See you in five minutes,” Jaemin murmured before he walked off to the bar to get us some salty popcorn and soda drinks. Though we both considered them way overpriced, it was a perfect way to celebrate the beginning of our fake relationship.

“We still have some time until the movie starts,” Jaemin shyly whispered as he cleared his throat. “Let’s take some selfies to make it public,” he added, and I nodded, sending him a timid smile, knowing this protocol had to be done in order to properly keep up appearances.

These days, everything had to be posted on social media, or it didn’t exist. If we didn’t leave a single digital mark, people might’ve grown a little bit suspicious of our alleged rendezvous. It would probably shock our friends, but it had to be done if we wanted to really sell it to them.

The circumstances were perfect for an impromptu first-date photo shoot. We were able to snap a few pictures without any annoying looks of prying eyes, choose the best angles, and finally post it with an ambiguous description confusing the shit out our friends.

Though Jaemin took about fifty photos, ultimately, I allowed him to upload three.

One picture showed me standing back to the camera as I looked at the cinema schedule, trying to pick a movie. I was wearing an A-line crimson red dress and a pair of warm black tights – the outfit really made my figure look pretty slim.

“What do you think about this one?” Jaemin inquired, showing me the photo of our interlaced hands. With a hum, I inspected the picture, giving him the green light. It was appropriate for our first date – it would signify we weren’t at the cinema as friends.

“This one looks good enough,” I commented as I reached to swipe across the screen of his smartphone. “I look cute here,” I added, showing Jaemin a picture of us. We were smiling, staring at the camera, almost stuffing our faces into the bucket of popcorn.

“What kind of description should I write?”

“Something vague, I guess,” I answered with a shrug, having no clue what kind of comment would be fitting for this Instagram post. “Maybe stick to emojis,” I suggested, and Jaemin went back to work, adjusting filters and typing the description.

With a chuckle, Jaemin handed me his phone, letting me approve his commentary.

“Are you out of your mind?” I hollered, quickly deleting the emojis. Having smacked his shoulder, I turned around, blocking him from seeing the screen. Three blushed emojis suited our fake-date better than a popcorn bucket, a wine glass, and an eggplant.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself,” Jaemin apologized, still laughing at his incredibly funny joke.

“Here, I posted it,” I said with an eye roll, throwing his phone at his lap. “The commercials must’ve started; let’s go,” I rose from my seat and extended my arm, wanting Jaemin to hand me the cup of coke. Jaemin, however, completely misunderstood my intentions, putting his hand into mine, holding it gently. “Give me my drink, Jaemin.”

“Sorry,” Jaemin sheepishly smiled before he yanked back his hand and turned his head around, too embarrassed to look at me. I, on the other hand, laughed hysterically. That should’ve served him right after that emoji faux pas.

“I was kidding,” I admitted when my laughter died down. “Come on, Jaemin. Let’s go; I want to see the trailers,” I added before grabbing his hand, hauling him inside the screening room.

At the last row, we plopped down onto our double seat, getting comfortable for the movie. With our belongings thrown onto the neighboring seat, we stretched our limbs before the lights went out, providing us with the best viewing experience.

“Do you think they’ve seen it?” Jaemin whispered into my ear as he placed his head on my shoulders. “I want to check it, but at the same time, I don’t.”

“Mood,” I replied, feeling just as anxious.

The movie began, and we quickly forgot about our bold social media statement, focusing much more on the screening. Residing to our typical behavior, Jaemin placed his head on my shoulder, snuggling closer, taking full advantage of the bucket of popcorn, which rested on my thighs.

It was peaceful and comfortable – just as things were before Jaemin had come up with his brilliant idea to fake-date each other for the sake of that ludicrous bet. Though we acted the way we used to with each other, it felt somewhat different with that supposed romantic connotations haunting us. Not necessarily bad kind of different, though.

Just as we expected, two hours was more than enough for our friends to spam our individual inboxes. We both had dozens of messages from group chats, as well as private ones. All of them were asking and/or speculating what happened and why.

“I don’t feel like answering any of these,” I muttered, dreading to read what Ten and Jiwoo wrote on our roomies’ group chat. “I don’t feel like coming home, either. They’re gonna eat me alive with questions. I am not ready to face them yet. Wanna hang out some more?”

“Fuck, even my mom has seen them,” Jaemin cursed under his breath, completely forgetting about his mother being a mad keen Instagram user. Now, when he looked at our arrangement from a slightly different angle, Jaemin realized it brought way more consequences than he was planning on facing.

It was bad.

Really bad.

With shaky hands, I unlocked my phone, checking the Instagram post Jaemin had tagged me in. Not only our friends flooded the group chats, but also, they didn’t forget to embarrass us even further in the comment section.

lucas_xx444: what the heck??? 😧 is this for real???

yuu_taa_1026: finally!!1 maybe they stop simping for each other now 🤡

_jeongjaehyun: another man down, shame 😔

choi.jiwoo21: 🙄🙄 some men actually grow up, jeong…

mama_nana: Why am I only finding about this now?

“Well… fuck,” I murmured under my breath, still unable to process the fact that Jaemin’s mom knew about it. It was supposed to be a harmless charade; however, with each passing minute, it was getting out of hand. “What is the damage control procedure?” I asked in concern, biting the bottom lip nervously. Lying to our friends was pretty bad, but keeping this relationship thingy up in front of his mother was despicable.

“You know how she is,” Jaemin started, and I sighed, wishing I had no clue of what she was capable of. Unfortunately, I did, and it scared the hell out of me. “Either we go and visit her, or she’s coming to visit us,” he wondered, unable to choose which option was worse. “Fuck, she’s calling me. What do I do?”

With panic flashed in his eyes, Jaemin handed me his phone, expecting me to handle the conversation with his gossip-girl type of a mother. As if that would ever happen…

“Pick up and tell her we’re awfully busy or something,” I ordered him, gliding my finger across the screen, pressing the device against Jaemin’s ear.

“Hi, mom,” he spoke through gritted teeth, staring at me in absolute fury. Quickly, his hand cupped mine before he grabbed the phone, adjusting it.

By Jaemin’s mom’s standards, the conversation was brief. Or rather, her monologue was because Jaemin didn’t speak a single word through the entirety of it. Except for a couple of mmm’s thrown here and there, he didn’t engage at all.

Ideally, Jaemin would schedule the visit after we will have broken up. He’d go there by himself and tell her a story of us coming back to our senses and deciding to remain just friends. Unfortunately, that would require at least one functional brain cell and a pinch of assertiveness – both of which Jaemin seemed to lack.

“And?” I inquired, praying to hear some good news.

With a sheepish smile, Jaemin cautiously looked up at me. “We’re visiting her for dinner on Friday,” he announced, and I gripped my hands, trying to refrain myself from beating the shit out of him.

I didn’t sign up for any of this!

I just wanted some shoes.

“I hate you, Na Jaemin,” I angrily declared, storming out of the cinema, ready to indulge myself with plenty of greasy food. It wasn’t the best coping mechanism, but I needed to consume a ridiculous amount of calories in order to forget I was stupid enough to agree to participate in this travesty. “Are you coming or not?!”

***

The last thing I wanted was to face my roommates. They must’ve had dozens of questions about this out-of-the-blue date, and I was dreadful because I couldn’t provide them with genuine answers. Perhaps, I could try to confabulate my way out of this, but it was, nonetheless, risky.

Having eaten at least two servings of a delicious greasy meal Jaemin and I went for a stroll under the pretense of taking some more photos for future references.

Around 8 o’clock, I unwillingly made my way home. Even with that romantic aura lurking around us, it was still fun to hang out with Jaemin.

Walking up the stairs to the fourth floor, I wondered about possible solutions to my problem. In a perfect scenario, I’d sneak into my room without anyone noticing, so I wouldn’t have to deal with any prying questions until, at least, early morning.

Unfortunately, the moment I pulled out my keys, the doors swung wide open.

“Well, well, well…” Ten tsked with a mischievous smirk dancing across his gorgeous face. Asshole. How dare he tsk me? “Had fun on your date?” He asked, and I tried my best to ignore him. It wasn’t that easy, though. With Jiwoo backing up his teasing, I was outnumbered.

“So… you and Jaemin, huh?” Jiwoo mused, cocking up her eyebrow in curiosity. “Spill the tea. I didn’t spam your inbox to not hear all the details,” she added, and I rolled my eyes, regretting all of my poor life choices that led me to this moment.

“I’ll bring wine,” Ten hollered before he disappeared in the kitchen, also keen on knowing everything that had happened between us. “Don’t say anything until I get there!”

They wanted to hear a romantic story of how two friends realized they had hots for each other, and that’s exactly what I did. Unwillingly, I provided them with an incredible piece of fiction of how we felt the spark when Jaemin stopped by the other day.

Admittedly, it was easy to go with the flow once the wine molecules were coursing through my veins. With some liquid inspiration in my bloodstream, I narrated how adorable Jaemin had been when he had gathered enough courage to ask me out on a date.

“So I assume you’re bringing Jaemin to the cabin on the weekend,” Jiwoo inquired in a teasing manner, and I blinked in confusion. What cabin was she talking about? “You forgot, didn’t you?”

“Forgot about what?” I asked, still clueless about the whole ordeal. With a confused frown, I wondered what this cabin trip was about. Positively, I didn’t forget about it. It’s impossible to forget about plans you weren’t even invited to.

So, Jiwoo explained everything in great detail.

Apparently, Jaehyun and Johnny planned a weekend getaway to the cabin by the sea. They invited plenty of people, but since it’s the middle of a hectic period of exams, only a small percentage of invitees would be able to make it.

Jaehyun, Johnny, and Lucas gave up trying to get the best grades two semesters ago, so their schedule was pretty much open. Renjun, Chenle, and Yeri were nerds with every necessary book memorized by heart, so they didn’t have to cram the weekend before the tests. Jiwoo, being heads over heels in love with Jaehyun, would even cancel her manicure appointment to make it to that trip. She was that serious about this fratboy for some reason…

And now, two individuals needed a perfect excuse to ditch an uncomfortable family dinner. When a chance presented itself in front of me, I just couldn’t say no.

“I’m going. I don’t know about Jaemin, though. He’s meeting his mom on Friday, but maybe he can make it work.”

“Fantastic,” Jiwoo shouted in excitement before finishing her glass of wine.

“Now, when I think about it, I am glad I’ve taken an extra shift at the gym,” Ten chimed in with a playful smirk as he sipped his wine. “You two simping for each other was painful to watch, but now, when you’re hitting it off, it’s gonna be unbearable.”

“What do you mean simping?” I yelled in a threatening manner, ready to fight him for spitting nonsense so carelessly. I might’ve had a tiny crush on Jaemin, but I wouldn’t call it simping. Also, suggesting the simping was mutual? He must’ve lost his freaking mind. Ridiculous!

“Shit, I didn’t think this through,” Jiwoo mentioned, now probably re-considering if the trip is worthwhile. She would love to hang out with Jaehyun and finally make a move, but on the other hand, she would have to deal with my and Jaemin’s romantic shenanigans.

“Why are you such drama queens? We’ve been on one date, for crying out loud! Stop acting like we’re some kind of overly touchy couple because we’re not,” I barked, having no more energy to argue with them. “We’ll keep PDA to a minimum, don’t worry.”

“No need to get so defensive,” Ten added, enjoying my misery a bit too much.

“I am not getting defensive,” I argued, though facing real trouble, unable to actually back up my perspective. “Anyway, I am going to sleep. Unlike the two of you, some people have real jobs,” I added before storming to my room, plopping onto my bed with a tired groan.

Having changed into my pajamas and sneaked under the covers, I finally dared to connect my phone to the Internet. My inbox was full of texts, so I read them all. I didn’t feel like replying to any of them, though. Instead, I opened my chat with Jaemin.

my love 💖 | 20:41 | I figured it out

my love 💖 | 20:41 | You don’t have to thank me

my love 💖 | 20:41 | Also

my love 💖 | 20:41 | Wtf Jaemin?

my love 💖 | 20:41 | What kind of name is that???

my love 💖 | 20:42 | Change it back

baNANA 🍓 | 20:43 | No. 😘

baNANA 🍓 | 20:43 | The name stays

baNANA 🍓 | 20:43 | You can’t make me 😝😝

baNANA 🍓 | 20:44 | And what don’t I have to thank you for?

my love 💖 | 20:44 | I might’ve found alternative plans for friday

baNANA 🍓 | 20:44 | Oh???

my love 💖 | 20:45 | Jiwoo invited us to the cabin for the weekend

my love 💖 | 20:45 | We’re gonna get so drunk!

my love 💖 | 20:45 | It’s okay if you can’t make it, tho

baNANA 🍓 | 20:45 | Wow

baNANA 🍓 | 20:45 | I have an exam on Monday…

baNANA 🍓 | 20:45 | But I can make Haechan give me his notes

baNANA 🍓 | 20:46 | I wouldn’t miss it

my love 💖 | 20:46 | Good, then it’s a date

baNANA 🍓 | 20:46 | Date??? 🥰🥰

my love 💖 | 20:46 | Stop being so cringy!

baNANA 🍓 | 20:46 | Good night, love~~ 😘

baNANA 🍓 | 20:46 | Dream of me 😇😇😇

my love 💖 | 20:46 | Ugh.

my love 💖 | 20:46 | Disgusting 🤢🤮

baNANA 🍓 | 20:46 | I love you, too

***

As brilliant as my plan was, it fell through. Only partially, though. The little getaway was still a thing, but unfortunately, regardless of how much we tried, we couldn’t reschedule the dinner at Jaemin’s family home.

We still had to pay his parents a visit, but, at least, there was a silver lining.

Thanks to our hectic schedule, Jaemin’s mom wouldn’t have a chance to force us to stay longer. Whether she wanted to feed us dessert or stay the night, it was out of the question.

Since Jiwoo had one more exam to pass on Friday, half of the guests would have to show up later in the evening. Johnny, Jaehyun, Lucas, and Renjun were about to take off around noon while Jiwoo, Yeri, Chenle, Jaemin, and I had to carpool later in the evening.

I didn’t complain, though.

“It’ll be fine. It’s just my mom,” Jaemin reassured me, slipping his hand into mine, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I bet it’s gonna be like any other time you stopped by,” he added, and I cocked up my eyebrow suspiciously.

“You better be right,” I spoke, though still unconvinced. I knew Jaemin’s mother. She had a tendency to be, hmm…, a little bit extra. Who knew how she would behave now when she found out we were dating?

Since Jaemin was carrying our suitcases, I knocked on the front doors. Jaemin’s mom rushed to let us in, but not before she gave us bone-crushing hugs.

“I think you’ve misunderstood. I invited you for dinner. I didn’t ask you to move in with me,” Mrs. Na jested upon seeing the suitcases in Jaemin’s hands, misinterpreting the situation in the funniest way possible. “It must be shocking, but I enjoy living alone with your father.”

“We’re going to the beach with some friends after the dinner,” Jaemin clarified, and his mother hummed in understanding, acting a bit too cool about it. It’s been a while since Jaemin paid them a proper visit, and she was a little too nonchalant for my liking. “They’re going to pick us up around seven.”

She must’ve done something or was about to do something.

“Here’s some wine,” I spoke up, handing her the bottle as a small thank you gift for inviting us over for a delicious home-made meal.

“Thank you, dear. You’re so thoughtful,” Mrs. Na accepted the beverage, guiding us to the dining area. “I didn’t feel like cooking today, so I ordered some Chinese takeout. I hope you don’t mind,” she added, and I chuckled at her typical antics.

She was an amazing mother to Jaemin, raising him well, but she really was a terrible housewife. She didn’t change one bit, and I loved her for it. She had so much love for her husband, her son, and her son’s friends, and that’s what really mattered.

“Your father will be home in thirty,” she announced before she made a beeline to the kitchen to get a bottle opener. “And the takeout was supposed to arrive twenty minutes ago. If it weren’t for that slow delivery guy, I would’ve got away with my little secret,” she blabbered, laughing awkwardly.

“It’s okay, really,” I reassured her, sending her a genuine smile. “I am craving Chinese food, anyway,” I added before I elbowed Jaemin, so he would say something, too. For a blabbermouth he was, right now, he seemed awfully quiet.

Before Jaemin managed to provide his mother with a proper response, someone knocked on the doors. Since we had already arrived, it must’ve been the delivery guy with food.

“I’ll go get it,” Jaemin excused himself, leaving me alone with his mother.

“So…,” Mrs. Na cleared her throat as he began pouring wine into fancy glasses. “You guys are finally dating. And if you want me to be completely honest, I am a little bit disappointed,” she made a pause to look at me in the eye. What? She didn’t approve of me? That’s surprising; I used to think she adored me. “I am a little bit disappointed either of you didn’t make a move sooner. I was slowly losing hope,” she added, and I sighed in relief.

For a while, I was seriously concerned she didn’t like me.

“Are you expecting any guests? There’s no way we can finish it all by the four of us,” Jaemin commented as he walked into the dining room, setting two plastic bags of takeout. It smelled heavenly, and I couldn’t wait to taste whatever dish Mrs. Na had ordered.

“I can always invite your friends inside when they pull up,” she spoke matter-of-factly, but as soon as Jaemin looked at her sternly, she seconded that idea. “Or, I can pack it up, so you can share it with your friends later.”

“Should we wait for dad?” Jaemin asked when his stomach growled, demanding food. In the morning, he was quite anxious about going to his parents’ house, so he didn’t even bother to eat. Now, Jaemin was starving. He couldn’t wait any longer.

“I’ll get the plates,” his mom spoke, not really answering his question. Within two minutes, she came back with a special set of tableware. In their household, it was used only for holidays and other rare occasions. “Dig in,” she urged us, waiting for us to fill our plates before doing the same herself.

Whatever restaurant provided today’s dinner, it was remarkable. It wasn’t too salty, nor too spicy. Even when I was full, I still stuffed my mouth some more, unable to stop myself.

“You have sauce on your chin,” Jaemin remarked, pointing at his own chin, helping me locate the stray drop of soy sauce. “Here,” he added with a tired shake of his head, wiping it clean with his napkin.

“You two are too adorable,” Mrs. Na cooed, smiling at us widely. “It was worth the wait,” she added, and I creased my forehead in confusion. “Oh, did you hear that? It must be your dad,” Mrs. Na said upon hearing noise from the garage. “You keep eating, I’ll go greet his workaholic ass,” she excused herself with a playful smile before walking away from the table to welcome her husband as any loving wife would.

With a deep sigh, Jaemin leaned toward me, resting his arm on my chair.

“It’s not that bad, actually. I was excepting to go through some kind of FBI-level of interrogation, but she seems kind of chill about this whole thing,” Jaemin whispered into my ear, and I giggled, agreeing with him. It was kind of suspicious, but I couldn’t complain.

“It’s kinda creepy when she’s talking like she’s been rooting for us to end up together, but this one thing aside, it’s bearable,” I replied, and Jaemin nodded his head.

“I am gone for a minute, and you’re all over each other,” Mrs. Na snickered when she returned to the dining room, seeing Jaemin leaned in, only inches apart from my face. “Jaemin, mama’s so proud,” she added before she walked around the room to set the plate for Mr. Na.

“Stop embarrassing me,” Jaemin whined, playing with the food on his plate, pouting. Though his mother pretty much ignored his childish tantrum, I chuckled, finding it absolutely adorable. Maybe she was a teaser, but little Jaemin knew, he inherited it from her. It was time he experienced the taste of his own medicine.

The apple doesn’t fall that far from the tree…

The rest of the afternoon went peaceful. Though Mrs. Na threw in some cheesy remarks here and there, we could handle it. We were slightly buzzed, after all.

“It’s time for us,” Jaemin announced as he heard a car parked in front of the house. “It was nice. We should totally do it again,” he sarcastically added when he reached for my coat and helped me put it on.

“Don’t have too much fun,” she added with a playful smirk upon her face, earning a judging look from her more conservative husband. “No, wait, I second that. Have as much fun as you want. I am a cool parent,” she spoke, changing her mind in a matter of seconds. “And I plan on becoming a cool grandparent.”

At first, I wanted to remind her that we’re too young for children. Besides, technically, we only went on one date. It was definitely too soon to even think about these things, let alone talk about them out loud.

Thankfully, before I managed to say something I’d regret, Jiwoo honked, urging us to get going. If it wasn’t for her impatience, I might’ve ruined the image I had built for myself in Jaemin’s parents’ eyes.

“Your mother was joking! Always use protection,” Mr. Na hollered before he closed the doors after us.

***

Except for a few playful comments shot toward Jaemin and me, the ride was peaceful. As soon as we threw our suitcases into the trunk and squeezed in on the backseat, we hit the road. Jamming to Jiwoo’s playlist, we chatted in excitement, all of us in desperate need of a little vacation. It was a stressful time of a year, but maybe this short trip would actually help us recharge the batteries and calm down after busting our asses off.

“How was the dinner?” Jiwoo asked, staring at us in the rearview mirror. Since there was a limited amount of space, I was almost sitting on Jaemin’s laps. Jiwoo didn’t miss it with her eagle eyes. The way Jaemin played with my fingers didn’t go unnoticed, either.

“Bearable,” I muttered under my breath, not really wanting to recollect these memories now. I’d probably tell Jiwoo everything later, and she understood the subliminal message in a heartbeat. “How was your test?”

“I probably failed, but, at least, now I know what to expect,” Jiwoo answered as she turned to the left as the navigation system instructed her to.

In about two hours, we arrived at our destination.

Having stepped into the cabin with our heavy luggage in our hands, we encountered the middle of the party. A handful of beer bottles were scattered around the living area, the boys fervently discussing some matter.

“You’re finally here,” Jaehyun spoke matter-of-factly, as he noticed us in the threshold. “Go upstairs and leave your stuff in your rooms. We’ve already assigned them; just read the post-it notes stuck to the doors,” he explained before he turned away.

Huh, apparently, they were pros at planning.

The guys rented a cabin that consisted of six tiny bedrooms. Generally, we wouldn’t have a problem assigning them; however, since Jaehyun, Lucas, and Johnny didn’t want to room with anyone, we were facing a dilemma. They guys wanted to have some privacy if they managed to pick someone up at the hotel in the neighborhood. In this case, the six of us had to share rooms. Jiwoo and Yeri could room together. Renjun and Chenle could occupy another one, so it looked like they put Jaemin and me in the last one.

Thankfully, it wouldn’t be the first time when I had to share a bed with Jaemin. He had stayed the night plenty of times before when he dozed off during our Netflix marathons. However, it still was to be a little bit awkward since everybody thought we began dating. We were going to pull through, though.

As soon as possible, we came back downstairs, ready to even the score of consumed alcohol. All of us needed it. Everybody had a different reason for it, but none of our troubles were to be discussed tonight.

In the fridge, there was a whole palette of different types of alcohol. Quickly, I grabbed two tequila-flavored beers, handing one to Jaemin, allowing others to choose their poison.

My plan for tonight was to test every kind of alcohol, gradually going up with the percentages. It was a bad idea, but that’s what college was about – having fun like there’re no consequences.

We partied like there’s no tomorrow.

At first, we kept it simple. Fervent conversations led us to shout at one another, trying to force one perspective over the others. We were going through so many subjects that any sober bystander might’ve had real trouble comprehending how we managed to switch among them.

Then, someone suggested playing a drinking game. Of course, it had to be never have I ever. Everybody had so much fun, especially when the participants yelled at Jaemin and me because we didn’t even bother to abide by the rules. We were sipping our drinks whenever we felt like it, even between rounds, and it didn’t sit right with the rest. Eventually, they kicked us out of their little circle, giving us the crucial task of bringing some snacks from the kitchen.

Sometime past midnight, Jiwoo proposed going outside. It was beautifully snowing, but at the same time, it was freezing. Though I was opposed to this idea, everybody seemed to love it. The guys were throwing snowballs at each other, bringing out their inner child.

As if this wasn’t enough, they decided to take a stroll to the seaside. Though our cabin was maybe a mile away from the seashore, I didn’t particularly fancy the saunter. Jaemin was by my side, offering to warm my hand in his pocket, but I still was on the verge of freezing my ass off. I’d much rather sit by the fireplace under a few blankets with a mug of the mulled wine in my grasp. Apparently, everybody besides me was really intrigued by an ice bath and other winter extreme sports.

Though it was dangerous as fuck, Jiwoo took off her shoes and rolled up her jeans before she walked into the ice water of the sea. Being the dumbass he was, Lucas instantly followed suit.

“They seem to hit it off tonight,” I nonchalantly whispered as I elbowed Jaehyun. Jiwoo and Jaehyun might have a thing going on, but neither of them acted on it. Jiwoo was too whipped to make a move, too afraid of rejection. Jaehyun, on the other hand, was just a fuckboy, not really looking for a relationship. “Look at them. Don’t they look cute?” I carried on, cautiously watching Jaehyun’s expression. They weren’t together, but he seemed slightly jealous and frustrated watching her have lots of fun with Lucas.

In my opinion, he didn’t deserve her, but I didn’t really have a say in that matter. Jaehyun was the person Jiwoo’s heart longed for, and I, being her best friend, had to support that. Or, in this case, I had to give him a little push to get things in motion.

Jaehyun had some feelings for Jiwoo, but he needed some time and character development to fully comprehend them. Until then, it was my duty to remind him what he’s missing out on by not being serious enough to ask her out.

“Nah, I wouldn’t call them cute,” Jaehyun murmured through gritted teeth, positively jealous. “What they’re doing is dangerous; somebody has to stop them,” he added before he kicked off his own shoes, running toward Jiwoo to pick her up and bring her back to the shore.

“What was that?” Jaemin asked, being shook as to what he had witnessed.

“What was what? What do you mean?” I smirked, winking at him, hoping he wouldn’t tell anyone about it. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You played him,” Jaemin spoke, still impressed by how easily I manipulated Jaehyun into stepping into the scene, pulling Jiwoo away from Lucas. “Is this even legal? You’ve never done this one me, have you?”

“No, of course, not! Don’t be ridiculous,” I answered, though my tone suggested a completely different message. “You would’ve known, wouldn’t you?” I teased, chuckling at Jaemin’s funny expression. He was mortified. “I think you’re overreacting. I just pointed out some facts, and Jaehyun reacted to them according to his emotional opinion. I really didn’t do anything,” I added, defending my case.

“Don’t you ever try pulling a trick like that on me, okay?” Jaemin stated, and I nodded, giving him a promise. “I mean… I wouldn’t fall for it, but still, don’t.”

“We should head back to the cabin,” Johnny shouted, gathering the gang. Surprisingly, he seemed the most sober amongst us, so it didn’t come as a shock to me that he tried to look after his hammered friends.

In my opinion, it was a perfect call. I was slowly sobering up, and I definitely needed a refill. With my schedule packed, I had no idea when I would have a chance for another getaway, so I had to make the most out of this one.

As we returned to the cabin, Jaehyun’s eyes didn’t leave Jiwoo.

Jaemin, on the other hand, went upstairs to grab his camera, deciding it was the best time to snap photos. Of course, he had to take pictures of us when we were drunk out of our minds. Why didn’t he take any when we looked decent without smudged make-up?

“Sexy,” Jaemin commented as he pointed his camera at me. “Ahh, sexy,” he kept calling me that, and I stuck my tongue at him, wanting him to go away pester someone else. My hair was a mess, and my lipstick smudged off my lips a long time ago. “So sexy,” he carried on, making me roll my eyes at him. At some point, I tried kicking him, but that bastard was beyond my reach.

Around 2 o’clock, one by one, we began feeling tired.

Lucas was the first one to go. Considering how much alcohol he had drunk, I was surprised he lasted that long. Better yet, it was a shock he could even stand straight. Jaemin and Renjun had to escort him upstairs, but nonetheless, his alcohol tolerance was impressive.

I didn’t even realize when, but Yeri and Chenle managed to fall asleep on the couch. Firmly, Renjun shook them away, ordering them to go to their respective rooms. With tired yawns, they made their way upstairs, falling on their beds face-first.

“Let’s go to sleep,” Jaemin pouted as he sat on the side of the armchair, resting his head on my shoulder. Entwining his hand in mine, he stood up, pulling me up.

“Have fun, guys. We’re calling it a night,” I announced, refraining from yawning.

“No, you have fun,” Jiwoo replied, sending us a wink. Shaking my head, I sighed before we disappeared upstairs. I don’t know what she was thinking; however, I didn’t have the energy to keep my eyes open, let alone other nighttime activities. Besides, Jaemin was just as spent. Even if we were in a real relationship, we wouldn’t engage in half-conscious unsatisfactory messy sex.

“Come here,” Jaemin whispered as he smiled. His eyes were already closed as he patted the mattress beside him, waiting for me to join. “Good job. I think we really sold it to everybody,” he added as he snuggled closer, wrapping his limbs around my body.

“That’s good,” I purred, slowly drifting into dreamland. It was a long day, and it was finally over. Though it had a rough beginning, I ended it in Jaemin’s arms. “Good night.”

“Good night, my love,” Jaemin muttered, resting his head on my pillow right beside my face.

“You were supposed to change that name,” I replied, too drunk or/and too tired to realize it was his spoken words and not a text message.

***

During the second week of our relationship, we grew to be less tense around each other. Better yet, we seemed awfully comfortable, almost as if that’s how everything was meant to be. It was a little bit alarming, but I decided not to point that out. Even if it was just an act, I enjoyed it much more than I’d ever dare to admit. As long as it lasted, I was to savor it.

Ever since we came back from the weekend trip, Jaemin would pop up out of nowhere at least once a day with a surprise for me, proving how over the top he could be in courting a woman.

On Monday, he spammed his social media feed with my pictures from the trip. Of course, he didn’t forget to put a corny description under it, making me flustered. Even though I wouldn’t consider myself photogenic, Jaemin managed to bring out my best features with his photography talent and editing skills.

On Tuesday, Jaemin was waiting outside the auditorium with a cute bouquet of my favorite flowers – white roses. He was there to congratulate me on passing my last exam of the semester. The professor would send us results by the end of the week, but according to Jaemin, there was no chance I’d fail it.

“I still don’t get it how you do it,” Jaemin mused, scratching his temple, trying to put two and two together. “I hardly ever see you study, but then, you panic before an exam only to nail it later on. What kind of black magic is this?” He wondered, and I giggled, unable to explain my poor studying technique. I just winged it last minute every single time in my academic career.

“You better be right about this one,” I replied, still anxious about my grade. I didn’t manage to answer all of the questions, so a passing grade would be a relief. “I’m craving pasta. Do you want t go on a celebratory date?”

“You’re reading my mind,” Jaemin said, grabbing my hand, leading me to our favorite restaurant.

On Wednesday, Jaemin invited me to a bowling alley. Every month he would visit the establishment with his friends. Only on rare occasions, their significant others were invited. None of them could really commit to a serious relationship, so it never became a repetitive custom of their group.

“You guys are disgusting,” Haechan whined after our turn. Jaemin and I were losing by an enormous margin, but we didn’t mind. We were having fun despite a low score. “But at least, we’re winning,” Haechan added, pointing at Chenle and himself.

“I am the winner here,” Jaemin boldly announced, giving my hand a light squeeze, making me almost spit my soda.

Everybody cringed at Jaemin’s bold corny statement.

“I second that,” Haechan mused, looking away from Jaemin. “She’s bearable, and you are just absolutely repulsive,” he corrected himself, and I chuckled. Never in my entire life, I thought I would agree on something with Haechan, but this moment occurred right then.

On Thursday, although my schedule was packed with work, Jaemin insisted on hanging out. Tired out of my mind, I let Jaemin inside the apartment. He was carrying Mexican takeout; I couldn’t send him back home. Not when he had goodies.

“What do you want to watch?” I asked as I handed him the remote, allowing him to choose the movie. I was going to pass out anyway, so he might’ve as well picked something he liked.

“Anything is good,” he answered as he unwrapped his quesadilla, taking a bite off of it.

“The Notebook it is then,” I teased, but since Jaemin didn’t stop me, I put it on.

Having eaten my portion of a delicious meal, I lay down on the couch, resting my head on Jaemin’s thighs. I didn’t even realize when I fell asleep. Only when the credits were rolling down on the screen, Jaemin shook me awake.

“When did you fall asleep?” Jaemin inquired, a little bit mad that I forced him to watch the ultimate romantic movie of the twenty-first century. It was toxic as hell, and the way their behavior got romanticized didn’t sit right with me.

“As soon as I lay down,” I answered honestly, as I rolled around, staring at Jaemin’s handsome face. “How did you like the movie?” I asked innocently, swiftly changing the topic. It was for the better if Jaemin didn’t find out I paid no attention to the film. Instead of a great viewing experience, it was just a mere background noise that lulled me to sleep.

“I didn’t,” Jaemin whined, tapping his foot against the floor, making me sit up instantly. “It was toxic and sad at the same time. Noah was a manipulative jerk, and Allie was moody as fuck. The only bright side of their relationship is that they ended up with each other, not ruining other people’s lives,” Jaemin spoke the truth, and I couldn’t agree more. “In conclusion, give me my 2 hours back,” he added, and I hit him with a cushion.

Unable to comprehend what I just did, Jaemin blinked in confusion. Then, a few seconds later, he smirked and grabbed another cushion, ready to fight back.

Unfortunately, our childish antics were interrupted by Jiwoo. She was hanging out with Yuta, studying for the exam they had to retake the next day. To be completely honest, she couldn’t have any worse timing. While watching a movie was explainable, it wasn’t the case when it came to an impromptu pillow fight.

“Should I come back later, or something?” Jiwoo asked, pointing at the doors, willing to leave if it meant for me to get laid.

“Nah, Jaemin’s leaving. I am trying to kick him out, actually,” I announced, sticking my tongue out.

On Friday, Jaemin and I planned on going to the arcade. Unfortunately, we had to raincheck that. One of Jaemin’s coworkers fell sick, and Jaemin had to take a double shift at the coffee shop in his neighborhood.

I already had canceled my other plans to hang out with Jaemin, so I didn’t really want to stay at home all by myself. It was a Friday night, after all. Surprising him at work seemed like a better idea. His friends liked hanging out there; therefore, it must’ve been an excellent excuse for a little bit of acting in order to keep up appearances.

Quickly, I assembled a cute outfit and put on light make-up.

About an hour before the closing, I entered the coffee shop. Except for a few students with their noses in their computers, the establishment was empty.

“Welcome to–,” Jaemin hollered, ready to welcome the customers. “Oh, it’s you. What are you doing here?” He asked as a wide smile spread across his face, enjoying my surprise.

“I just came to surprise you,” I confessed, though none of us paid enough attention to the gravity of my words. I genuinely wanted to hang out Jaemin him as his girlfriend. “And I also wanted to get some discounted goodies. What do you have left?” I asked, looking over his shoulder, trying to see what food didn’t sell yet. An hour before the closing, everything on the menu was discounted by seventy percent, and I just couldn’t walk past that kind of deal.

“You’re not the only one who came for cheap stuff,” Jaemin commented as he saw Haechan and Renjun on the other side of the doors. “Take a seat, I’ll bring you your favorite,” he added, and I smiled at him, walking to the booth by the window.

Having finished my Greek sandwich, I focused on my cup of tea. I was scrolling through social media feed, giggling whenever I stumbled upon a funny meme. It was a perfect evening; complete relaxation in the rhythm of soft foreign jazz music playing through speakers, Jaemin checking up on me once every a couple of minutes.

“Oh, hi, there,” Haechan hollered as soon as he noticed me. He must’ve been returning to his table from a restroom. “I didn’t realize you’re here. What’s up?” We weren’t close, so his question was more like a polite generic statement rather than genuine curiosity.

“I’m waiting for Jaemin to finish, so we can hang out at my place,” I answered, hoping Haechan would get the suggestive tone.

“Actually, there’s something you should know,” he said quietly, looking around, probably checking if Jaemin was within earshot. “I am so ashamed it happened, but I really have to tell you something,” Haechan added, and I couldn’t wait for him to reveal the secret.

Haechan was playing dirty. He wanted to tell me about the bet, ruining Jaemin’s chance at getting me to sleep with him. It was some top-tier double-crossing, and I found it impressive. I had no clue Haechan had it in him.

“We shouldn’t have done it. I don’t know why we even agreed to this,” Haechan added, scratching the back of his head, trying to sound genuinely regretful. “I think Jaemin’s not genuine about the thing you have going on. You see, we made a bet. He has to have sex with you, or else he owes Chenle 500 bucks.”

“What?!” I exclaimed, hoping my consternation was believable. At first, I felt the temptation to say something along, yeah, I know, what’s new, but then I decided to play along. It was actually a good idea to make it seem like Jaemin’s about to lose the bet. Knowing them, they wouldn’t call it off. If anything, Jaemin could double the stakes. “No, it can’t be true. Jaemin would never –“

Now, it was my cue to make a scene. Hopefully, it would play out exactly like in my impromptu prediction.

Reaching the stage of fake hysteria, I rose from my seat and stormed to Jaemin. He was energetically wiping off the tables, wanting to leave shortly after the last customer.

“Is that true? Did you really make a bet you can have sex with me?” I yelled at him through gritted teeth. Jaemin, on the other hand, was confused as fuck. “Did you really think you could get away with it? You disgust me!” I shouted, slapping his cheek. “Don’t ever call me again,” I added before I turned on my heel, storming out of the coffee shop.

Being the only employee at work, Jaemin couldn’t run after me.

Jaemin deserved an explanation. I had to fill him in on my wonderful plan before he would blow it in front of Renjun and Haechan.

my love 💖 | 20:46 | play along

my love 💖 | 20:46 | trust me

my love 💖 | 20:47 | kick them out pls

baNANA 🍓 | 20:47 | wtf???

baNANA 🍓 | 20:48 | that hurt

baNANA 🍓 | 20:48 | I didn’t have to kick them out

baNANA 🍓 | 20:49 | they ran out a few seconds after you

my love 💖 | 20:49 | good

baNANA 🍓 | 20:49 | what the hell is going on???

baNANA 🍓 | 20:50 | I am confused

my love 💖 | 20:50 | Haechan ‘told’ me about the bet

my love 💖 | 20:50 | he wanted to double cross you

baNANA 🍓 | 20:51 | what???

my love 💖 | 20:51 | so the plan is

my love 💖 | 20:51 | they know you don’t stand a chance

my love 💖 | 20:51 | so you double the stakes

my love 💖 | 20:52 | and then bam! we win double the money

baNANA 🍓 | 20:52 | wow

baNANA 🍓 | 20:52 | you’re a genius

my love 💖 | 20:53 | I know

my love 💖 | 20:53 | and since I’m acting like I’m not talking to you

my love 💖 | 20:53 | bye

my love 💖 | 20:54 | see you @ the party!

***

Everything went according to my plan. The guys thought I was pissed with Jaemin, while Jaemin still tried to convince them he stands a chance to court me. It was kind of ironic, they wanted to play me, but it was them getting played.

Together with Jiwoo and Ten, we came extra early to Jaehyun’s party. Still being stuck in friendzone, Jiwoo went out of her way to help him out. Today it meant setting up all types of decorations all over the fraternity house and preparing different kinds of snacks.

Around seven, an Uber pulled up in front of our building. Not to brag, but despite the limited amount of time, we managed to dress up to the nines.

I decided to keep it simple. My outfit consisted of a pair of skinny high-waisted black jeans, a long-sleeved sequin embellished crop top, and a pair of ankle-high boots.

Jiwoo, on the other hand, was wearing a two-piece baby pink dress and a pair of massive mid-thigh black leather platform combat boots. She looked fierce, like a weird baby of 90’s Britney Spears and Marilyn Mason.

Though Ten’s outfit looked the most effortless, it took him longer than us to put it together. Having thrown every single thing from his closet on the bed, Ten experienced a mild crisis. Even though he looked gorgeous in everything, he didn’t seem to believe us. Only after the off-hand intervention, he agreed to play it cool with a pair of ripped jeans, a black shirt with three top buttons left untouched, and an oversized leather jacket.

Once we arrived at Jaehyun’s fraternity, nothing was ready. Thankfully, it wasn’t my problem. Jiwoo was the one who volunteered to help out. Ten and I were about to vibe in the corner, letting other people arrange the place according to Jaehyun’s vision.

Trying our best not to disturb others, Ten and I watched the way the smelly fraternity sex mansion turned into a festive valentine’s manor.

“I hope she’s gonna get laid today,” I whispered into Ten’s ear, looking at Jiwoo working like a busy bee around the house.

“She better; that’s really painful to look at,” Ten agreed, looking a little bit disappointed. Jiwoo was at Jaehyun’s beck and call, and it was about time he acknowledged her feelings.

Around nine o’clock, it was getting a little bit crowded.

Music was blasting through the speakers. Some of the fratboys were already looking for their next conquest. Girls were dancing on a makeshift dance floor in the middle of the living area, suggestively swaying their hips, teasing whoever was watching with their sexy moves.

Later on, when I was in the middle of my fourth drink of the night, Jaemin finally showed up. Together with Haechan, Jeno, Renjun, and Chenle, they walked through the threshold. They all looked great, but Jaemin stood out in the crowd. After all, he was the only one to put on a suit jacket over his white T-shirt. While the rest rocked the comfortable outfits, Jaemin opted for a more elegant look.

Almost as if he wanted to impress someone. Or at least, apologize properly, trying every sly trick to make me forgive him.

Upon entrance, his eyes searched me in the crowd, and when he met my gaze, a smile stretched across his face. Shyly, he raised his hand, wanting to wave at me, but since I stubbornly turned my head around, playing my role of offended woman, he lowered it.

“I’ve seen an ATM on our way here,” Renjun commented, knowing Jaemin didn’t stand a chance of winning the bet.

“It won’t be necessary,” Jaemin replied, following me with his gaze. “I didn’t lose it yet,” he added, and the guys laughed at him. There was no way he still thought he could woo me. “I still have a few hours left; I am not going to give up.”

“You’re such a loser,” Jeno interjected as regret washed through him. Although he didn’t actively participate when the bet was placed, he didn’t oppose it. He was an idle bystander, allowing other people to ruin our friendship. It didn’t sit right with him, but it was too late. The damage was already done, and Jaemin was going to embarrass himself even further. “She doesn’t deserve any of this.”

“It’s not like that,” Jaemin started, but he refused to explain how exactly it was like.

“You’re still gonna fail,” Haechan added with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. Back at the coffee shop, he ruined Jaemin’s chance for success. “Hey there, beautiful,” Haechan spoke when his attention was snatched by one of the girls who walked past them.

Once the boys divided to greet other friends, Jaemin strolled to the kitchen. I was there, and he needed to initiate the first step of our plan.

Sincere apology.

“Can we talk?” Jaemin whispered as he reached out to grab my hand, interrupting my conversation with Ten and Yeri. “Let me explain. You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to listen to me,” he asked, and I unwillingly complied, letting him lead me toward an abandoned corner in the living area. No one could hear us talk, but at the same time, everybody could see us.

“What do you want, Jaemin,” I barked, folding my arms across my chest, startling myself with how good I managed to behave like an angry ex-girlfriend. Though it was my last semester, maybe I should change my major to professional acting.

“Wow. You’re too good at this,” Jaemin commented before he proceeded with his part. “Anyway, I made this card for you. I hope it finds you well,” he announced before he pulled an envelope out of the inner pocket of his suit jacket.

Cautiously, I took the valentine’s card out of the envelope. Once I saw the front page, I couldn’t help but laugh. Jaemin must’ve done it himself, or he stole it from Jeno’s four-year-old niece. It was all covered in hearty stickers and glitter.

Jaemin definitely wasn’t a poet. He had never stood next to one, either.

Instead of a heartfelt apology and love confession, there was a short corny message which simultaneously made me cringe and chuckle.

Are you a ba-NANA? Cause I find you a-peeling.

From Your Love

P.S. it’s from me, your Jaemin

“You’ve really outdone yourself,” I spoke, shaking my head, trying my best not to grin. I was supposed to hate him, but it was too difficult. “I am gonna walk away now. Approach me once you raise the stakes.”

Although I didn’t want to party without Jaemin by my side, it was what I had to do. Having sent him a faint smile, I turned around and walked away, giving Jaemin some time to initiate part two of our plan.

Having drunk a few fancy shots Ten had made for me, we hit the dance floor. At first, we just jumped in the rhythm. However, when the DJ played the song we had practiced at the dance studio, everybody stepped to the side, making enough room to let us perform the choreography.

With alcohol coursing in my system, my moves weren’t as precise as usual – they still earned a round of applause.

“Hey, hey, hey, are you having fun?” Drunk as a skunk, Jaehyun shouted through the microphone connected to the DJ’s console. “How about we slow up the tempo?” Jaehyun yelled, and everybody cheered, making a lot of noise. “Tonight’s the love festival, and I, the valentine’s boy, specifically request every find a person to slow dance with.”

Having set the microphone aside, Jaehyun pushed DJ away from the console, putting on his Cigarettes After Sex playlist. The first song which graced our ears was Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You.

“Can I have this dance?” Jaemin appeared out of nowhere by my side, extending his hand for me to take. “Please?” He looked into my eyes, waiting for my response, looking hopeful.

As soon as I nodded, Jaemin grabbed my hand and gently pulled me against his firm body, resting his left hand on my back, holding me still, making sure I’d not run away. With my head resting against his chest, we swayed slowly, getting lost in our little world.

“They think I am a terrible person,” Jaemin whispered into my ear, his breath tickling my skin. “They seriously think I’d try to ruin our friendship with this bet,” he carried on, and I hummed, taking an inhale, getting hit with Jaemin’s musky cologne.

The boys truly underestimated the power of our friendship. Jaemin and I told each other almost everything. It was bold of them to assume I had no idea about the bet.

“Don’t worry about it,” I replied as I had closed my eyes, getting lost in the moment. “Everything will come back to normal soon enough,” I added, trying to ignore the bittersweet taste of my statement. Our fake relationship had an expiration date, and it was near.

“You’re right. Everything will come back to normal,” Jaemin repeated my words as he rested his chin on top of my head, pulling me even closer. “You’re the best fake girlfriend I’ve ever had,” he added, pressing an innocent peck against my hairline.

“How many fake girlfriends have you had?” I asked, chuckling, sounding a bit jealous.

“Anyway,” Jaemin started, trying to change the subject. “The guys took the bait. And now, judging by the stupid looks on their faces, they’re shitting their pants.”

“Once the song is over, we should initiate the third phase of our plan,” I commented, wanting to be over with this. In about a minute, I was about to pull Jaemin out of the dance floor and lead him to the bathroom upstairs, where we would do the deed.

When another song from Jaehyun’s playlist echoed in the room, all the other couples kept dancing. Jaemin and I, on the other hand, were about to not so discreetly sneak upstairs.

Unfortunately, we met an obstacle on our path.

It was Jaehyun, pointing his phone at our faces.

“It’s a kiss cam. Do what you gotta do,” he spoke, and I creased my forehead in utter confusion. What the hell was he doing? What the hell was a kiss cam? It was a frat party, not a baseball match. Didn’t he have a beer pong championship to win or something?

“What?”

“Do I really have to explain this to everyone? Jesus,” Jaehyun complained, taking a deep sigh, trying to ease his irritation. “It’s Valentine’s day! I am Valentine’s boy! And this is a kiss cam. You kiss, and I take pictures,” he explained, but I wasn’t convinced. “Hurry up! I have to take like 50 more of them.”

At first, I didn’t want to do it. But then, a thought crossed my mind. Who would believe Jaemin and I had sex if I refused to give him a kiss. It was just one kiss; it wouldn’t hurt.

Having licked my lips, I smiled at Jaemin before I wrapped my hands around his neck, giving him a chaste smooch. It lasted maybe a few seconds, but it still made me uneasy. Even if it was just a brief peck, it was too much for my poor heart.

“What the fuck was that?” Jaehyun groaned in disappointment. “One more time, guys. That’s how you kiss your mother, not your girlfriend. You can do better.”

“Show him how it’s done, Jaemin,” I encouraged him, giving him permission to assault my lips, hoping it would happen to be one hell of a performance.

Having smirked, Jaemin leaned forward, pressing his lips gently against mine. Cautiously, he deepened the kiss, knocking the air out of my lungs, making my legs shake under my weight. His hands held my chin in place as his tongue slipped through my lips.

Out of a sudden, nothing else mattered. Jaemin and I were in our bubble, and despite it being a one-time thing, I wished it lasted forever. Whatever expectations I had about this moment, it wasn’t even close to reality.

Jaehyun cleared his throat, wanting to pull us out of our trance. In vain, though. I moved my lips against Jaemin’s in slow sync, letting the sweet sensation strip me of the last remains of dignity. I was to savor every second of it, basking in bliss.

“Ekhem,” Jaehyun grunted, starting to feel a little bit flustered. “You guys done?”

Once we broke apart to take a breath, Jaehyun spoke again.

“Have you seen Jiwoo, by the way?”

“Yeah, I think she went for a smoke with Lucas,” I answered casually, watching panic display on Jaehyun’s face. It was evident he didn’t fancy the newfound information. “She went outside like half an hour ago, though. I wonder what it takes them so long,” I added, planting another grain of doubt in his subconscious.

As soon as anxiety downed on him, Jaehyun bolted outside. He better, though. If Jaehyun wasn’t going to make a move on Jiwoo tonight, I was about to find another guy to ship her with.

“You did it again,” Jaemin pointed out, and I just shrugged, dismissing his comment. So what? One push in the right direction wasn’t enough for Jaehyun to grow up, so I decided to be generous enough to give him a second chance.

“Are you ready for phase three?” I asked Jaemin, but before he managed to reply, I grabbed his hand, pulling him across the dance floor. Giggling, I ran through the sea of people, not so accidentally bumping into Chenle, almost spilling his beer.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” I hollered, giggling. Now, when I had Chenle’s attention, we could sneak upstairs to proceed with the final step of our plan. “Come on, Jaemin, let’s go. I am horny,” I added, probably overdoing my part. Unfortunately, the words were already spoken. I couldn’t take them back.

Having locked the bathroom doors behind us, I jumped onto the countertop. “Don’t you think it’s a bit creepy they’re gonna eavesdrop on us bang? It’s kinda off-putting, you know…”

When Jaemin wanted to speak, somebody knocked on the doors. It must’ve been one of Jaemin’s friends, checking if we were indeed fucking. “It’s occupied,” Jaemin hollered, mentioning for me to start my performance.

“Fuck, Jaemin! Eat me out, already,” I yelled, pressing my hands against my mouth, trying to stifle my laugher. This situation was ridiculous, and I couldn’t help myself but giggle. I had only a few drinks, yet I felt like I was high as a kite. “Yes, like that! Ahhh…”

“Can’t wait to fuck that tight hole,” Jaemin played along, almost dying of alcohol-induced tittering. We were definitely having too much fun.

“Right there, Jaemin!” I screamed, holding my stomach as it began aching due to excessive cackling. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, right there,” I moaned loudly, kicking my head back. “Don’t tease me, please!”

“I gotta get you ready for my cock, love,” Jaemin growled, and I gasped, my mind conjuring the forbidden image®.

“Just fuck me! I need your cock inside of me now!” I groaned, hoping whoever was on the other side of the doors heard enough of what was going inside. “Mmmm… you stretch me out so well…” I purred, almost falling off the counter when another round of uncontrollable laughter tried to erupt from my throat.

“Fuck, you’re still so tight.”

“Jaemin! Fuck, I am close. Keep going,” I yelled, mentally preparing for the big finale. This whole act was a vocal performance, and it was time I finished. “I’m coming! Come with me!”

“It was spectacular,” Jaemin whispered so only I could hear him. “I have one more favor, though,” he added, shying away. Oh no, he was about to ask about something stupid.

“What is it?”

“It could’ve been some random dude,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head, unsure how to voice his supplication. “Give me your panties. It’ll be the definite proof.”

“You’re joking,” I deadpanned, staring into his eyes, waiting for him to say it was just a harmless prank. “You’re serious,” I added as soon as I realized Jaemin meant it.

“Come on, I won’t be sniffing them,” Jaemin nagged, and I rolled my eyes. I didn’t even think about it, but now that he mentioned it, I had another reason not to comply with his weird-ass request. “I’ll give them back, I promise.”

“I can’t believe I am considering this,” I cursed under my breath. If any other person would like such a favor from me, I’d deny it in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, I had a soft spot for Jaemin, so denying him didn’t come easy to me.

Hell, I wouldn’t be here if I was able to say no to him.

“You owe me big time,” I caved in, jumping off the countertop, stepping behind the shower curtain, providing myself with some privacy. “Don’t peek. Even if I slip, you gotta stay on the other side. Got it?” I added as I stuck my head through the curtain.

“Scout’s honor,” Jaemin pledged, and I rolled my eyes. He was a scout for maybe a week. His honor didn’t mean shit.

Clumsily, I took off my shoes and jeans. “Here,” I warned before I threw my panties over the curtain. “I am too sober for this,” I nagged, trying to put my skinny jeans back on.

“Let’s do celebratory shots!” Jaemin suggested, balling up my undergarments, hiding them in his pocket. “We deserve it,” he added, landing me a helping hand when I was stepping out of the shower.

“Let’s go.”

***

Needless to say, Jaemin won the bet.

Unfortunately, it meant the inevitable end of our fake relationship. It was fun when it lasted, and though I’d miss these times, it was time to set the record straight.

As we had discussed, we had to arrange our break up.

Sometime next week, Jaemin stopped by to give me half of the prize. Since the boys had been stupid enough to fall for our little charade, I received a large sum of money. It was Chenle who sponsored the prize. Because of that, I didn’t feel particularly sorry about deceiving them. After all, Chenle was so loaded; he wouldn’t notice if he lost that kind of money on the street. I could finally buy these shoes which I had been dreaming of for so long! Better yet, I'd still have some money left to spoil myself some more.

“How should we do it?” Jaemin asked quietly. Ever since he came, he avoided my gaze, staring at the floor.

“I don’t know,” I unwillingly answered. This conversation was the last thing I wanted to do right now, but it had to be done. Better sooner or later, before I’d catch some real feelings for Jaemin. I had no idea how I would pick up the pieces of my broken heart if we kept this act any longer. “Let’s just delete all posts we published. Someone will figure out something’s wrong, and when they spread the word, we’ll explain we decided to remain friends.”

Maybe I wasn’t in tears, but I felt regret wash through me. Though our relationship had never been a real thing, it felt like it.

And it hurt.

“Alright then,” Jaemin complied, rubbing his hands against his thighs before he pulled out his phone to erase any digital footprint of our brief romance. His thumb hovered over the delete button for a while. After a few moments of hesitation, when he didn’t hear any sign of protest from my side, he pressed it, sending our memories to a bottomless void. “And it’s gone.”

“Are we cool?” I asked, hoping that nothing would change between us. I had a hunch it would take me some time to get used to how things had been before the relationship fiasco. Nonetheless, I still had hope we could remain best friends without any awkwardness.

“Of course,” Jaemin answered with a faint smile, but I didn’t fully believe him. Something was off, and it bothered us. Shame that none of us dared to begin this topic.

After he left that day, we saw each other very seldom. We barely even spoke to one another. If it wasn’t for the group chats we were both in, we wouldn’t talk at all.

Jaemin had said we were cool, but it was evident we weren’t.

It was eating me from the inside out, but whenever somebody asked me about the break-up, I’d always shrug it off, confirming everything’s great. I would tell our friends nothing changed between us. There was nothing wrong; our schedules are just incompatible these days.

When I had pretended I was in a relationship with Jaemin, it was easy. It came naturally, and everyone ate it up without any second thoughts. Unfortunately, now, when I was trying to play it cool, no one seemed to buy it. Thankfully, they didn’t confront me about it. Instead, they offered me their support if I ever needed anything.

In my head, I had a few wild scenarios in which I tell Jaemin we should date for real. However, at the same time, a little devil on my shoulder was telling me it should never leave the realm of fantasy. It’s ridiculous to think Jaemin would reciprocate my feelings.

I felt as if sadness took over my body. Though I was smiling on the outside, I was filled with regret. Barely anything sparked joy these gloomy days. Even this pair of shoes, which I wanted so badly, didn’t stir any positive emotion. I bought them, but I never took them out of the box.

Jiwoo had taken me out on a few girls’ nights to make me feel better. Men are trash – she would always say when Jaehyun ignored her yet another text. Even though they had fucked each other at Jaehyun’s birthday party and agreed to become exclusive, Jaehyun still had lots of problems committing to a monogamous relationship. They hadn’t officially labeled it, but everyone knew Jaehyun was slowly caving in.

Fratboys’ habits die hard, but Jaehyun was finally shaping himself into boyfriend material. He no longer slept around, as far to my knowledge at least, but he still lacked in some departments. For instance, it would take him way too much to text back.

“You were so adorable together,” Jiwoo began after she gulped down another rum and coke. Despite her high alcohol tolerance, she was already drunk, speaking with no filter. “I mean… you were simping for him for so long, and you finally managed to jump that dick.”

“Your point being…” I inquired, finishing my drink. Though Jaemin and I had never had sex, I didn’t want to admit that. What would Jiwoo thought if I told her it was all-pretend?

“I shipped you guys so hard,” Jiwoo confessed. “Ten shipped you too, but he will never admit that,” she added, and I giggled. Now, that was an interesting take. Ten was so random at many aspects of life; it came to me as a surprise he even had an opinion on my relationship with Jaemin. “Can I just take some duck tape and put my ship back together?”

“I am not sure Jaemin would like that,” I answered with a sigh, my mood instantly decreasing.

“Nonsense,” Jiwoo replied in a heartbeat. “This guy is even worse than you,” she revealed, and I rolled my eyes, not buying this. At least a few times a week, at my lowest moments, I happened to check Jaemin’s social media updates. He didn’t seem to mope around at all.

“I find it hard to believe,” I muttered, trying not to get too emotional.

“I mean it,” Jiwoo confirmed her previous statement, eager to explain her thesis. “Jaehyun and I went on a little date to the coffee shop where Jaemin works,” she started, and I nodded, not really sure what she was getting at. Nonetheless, I let her continue. I was curious what Jaemin had been up to. And since he didn’t seem to want to tell me anything himself, I’d accept any type of second-hand information from Jiwoo. “Jaemin misses you. You have no idea how many times I caught him daydreaming. He still has your photo set on his lock screen, and he stares at it a lot.”

Now, that’s interesting.

I had no recollection of Jaemin ever setting my photo as his background picture. Even if Jiwoo was right, it meant he set after we had broken up. It made no sense at all, and I was too drunk to try to comprehend the meaning of this.

Instead, I ordered another round, trying to stifle all the brooding emotions within me.

***

February was the month of parties. Too many birthdays fell during this hectic period, and I had trouble keeping up with them. Fortunately, Ten’s party was the last one of the month. After a small get together at our place, I’d have some time off to relax by myself, most preferably, without alcohol.

Being the semi-hosts with Jiwoo, it was our duty to help Ten organize everything regarding his party. Though our trio was a little bit disorganized, somehow, we managed to get everything ready before anyone arrived.

Maybe it wasn’t comparable to birthday parties at fraternity houses; it still had its charm. It wasn’t as wild, but guests still were having a great time in the company of their closest friends. However, what was the most important, Ten had a blast.

It was his day; he deserved everything he wanted.

Trying my best not to embarrass Ten, I decided to socialize with his friends.

It was time I move on. It took me way too long to mourn a relationship that wasn’t even real. I couldn’t let my brooding mood ruin the party.

“Hmm… Ten has never mentioned you before,” I confessed, not finding it particularly odd. Ten didn’t have secretive nature; he just wasn’t the type of person to over-share. And he often forgot to even mention stuff about his personal life.

“I can’t say I am surprised,” Hendery replied, making me giggle. It was fun chatting with him. Hendery was hilarious, and he knew many secrets regarding Ten. It was my mission to get as much information from him as it was possible. I would need it for blackmailing purposes, of course.

Hiding out in the kitchen, we sipped beer and exchanged rumors as if we were two gossip girls. It was too entertaining to stop. I was incredibly immersed in the conversation; I didn’t even realize when someone tapped my shoulder.

“Can we talk?” I heard the question, recognizing the voice in an instant. It belonged to Jaemin, and it seemed to be laced with both jealousy and irritation. The way he phased his plea gave me flashbacks of the conversation we had at Jaehyun’s party.

I really wanted to continue my discussion with Hendery, but I couldn’t say no to Jaemin. It wasn’t how my brain was programmed. Besides, I missed him a lot.

“Excuse me, I’ll be right back,” I told Hendery before I grabbed Jaemin’s hand, leading him to my room, locking the doors behind us.

“Nothing was supposed to change,” Jaemin started as he sat at the edge of my bed, leaning forward with his upper body propped on his elbows. His gaze was trained on the floor, too frustrated to look up at me.

“I know,” I whispered as I sat down in my chair on the other side of the room. My first instinct was to kneel in front of Jaemin, kiss his forehead, and assure him that everything’s going to be alright.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like a good idea, so I refrained from doing so. “I am sorry, it’s my fault.”

“Don’t,” Jaemin interjected before I embarrassed myself even further. “We’re both at fault.”

Despite the loud party noises coming from the other side of the doors, my bedroom was filled with deafening silence. It was awfully uncomfortable, and it was probably a good thing. One of us would get annoyed eventually and cave in, letting out all the bottled up emotions.

“I missed you,” I admitted, staring at my hands. I was all fidgety, and although I was too embarrassed to reveal my inner feelings, Jaemin deserved to know this much.

“I missed you, too,” he genuinely confessed, showing me a shy smile. “Actually, I missed you more than I thought it was possible to miss a person,” Jaemin carried on, and I held my breath, not ready to hear whatever he had to say. “You have no idea how much I wanted to text you or call you, but ultimately decided not to because I was sure you don’t want me to.”

“Jaemin,” I spoke, not really sure what I should say next. I had too many things I wanted to tell him about. However, now when he was here, I couldn’t properly voice my thoughts.

“Are you dating this guy you were talking to in the kitchen?” Jaemin asked out of the blue, catching me off guard with this random accusation. “Or do you want to date him? You two looked like you’re having a great time together,” he added, and I rolled my eyes. At first, Jaemin acted on his jealously, but then, insecurity crept in.

“I don’t know. I met Hendery today, but he seems like a great guy,” I answered honestly, thinking of possibilities of me trying to pursing something of romantic nature with Hendery. After our brief encounter, I could tell he’s fun to be around. And honestly speaking, I might’ve considered dating him if I hadn’t already had feelings for someone else.

Unfortunately, right now, I wasn’t in the right state of mind to date. Not when I was still hung up on my best friend.

“I probably won’t, though. I like somebody else,” I confessed, gaining Jaemin’s interest. Instantly, he sat up, staring into my eyes, patiently waiting for the reveal. “I am stupid, but I like this one guy. He’s such a jerk, I can’t even… he’s been ghosting me for weeks now,” I carried on, hoping Jaemin would get the hint.

Two weeks ago, we promised each other nothing would change. Despite our good intentions, it did. Even though I hadn’t told Jaemin how I really felt, I still lost my best friend.

My silence didn’t save this friendship. I tried to bottle up my emotions to secure our unbreakable bond. It didn’t work, so I figured confessing my feelings wouldn’t do any more harm. Surely, Jaemin was going to reject me, but at least, I’d clear the air between us.

Hopefully, my confession, followed by a harsh rejection, would help me move on.

Instantly, Jaemin ran up to my chair and knelt in front of me, trying to look into my eyes. “Please tell me this jerk is me,” Jaemin urgently spoke, unable to handle any more suspense. Jaemin’s gaze was hopeful, and it was too much for me to comprehend.

“What?” I asked, still being overwhelmed by confusion. What was going on? Why was Jaemin on his knees in front of me? Nothing made sense. How was I supposed to wrap my head around it? “I mean… yeah, it’s you. Who else could it be?”

“You have no idea how sorry I am,” Jaemin confessed as he grabbed my hand and yanked me against his chest, wrapping his arms around me, giving me a tight hug. “You could’ve said something… anything,” he added as he pulled back his head, placing a chase kiss against my forehead.

“I didn’t want to scare you away,” I admitted quietly, unable to break free from Jaemin’s cone-crashing embrace. I couldn’t believe he was so close. Na Jaemin was holding me in his arms, letting me listen to his rapid heartbeat.

“The worst two weeks of my life,” Jaemin spoke, once again breaking the silence. “It felt at least like two centuries,” he added, making me chuckle. Of course, it was an exaggeration, but it’s how I felt, too.

“How about we start over?” I proposed, taking a step backward to have a proper look at him. “Will you go on a date with me? This time around for real, no pretending,” I carried on, trying not to grin like an idiot.

“No.”

“What?”

What the fuck was that?

Did I misunderstand Jaemin’s words? I thought he felt the same, but apparently, he didn’t? Everything suggested he followed my flow only to crush my expectations, later on, leaving a big ass scar and more trust issues.

“I mean yes, but I should be me asking you out. Definitely not the other way around,” Jaemin clarified, making me relax. Thankfully, my mini panic attack was uncalled for. It was just my brain over-analyzing everything, conjuring the worst possible scenario.

“Then you better do your best to woo me,” I teased, wondering if he was willing enough to take the bait. It was just a mere joke, reminding me how it all began. He had wooed me once, and I wasn’t going to oppose to a second attempt. “Fun dates, romantic messages, silly gifts. I want it all,” I added, going a little bit overboard with my request list.

“Everything can be arranged,” Jaemin replied with a lopsided smile before he tightened his grip, almost crashing my bones in the process.

***

Jaemin and I began dating. This time around, it was real; no more pretending, no more stupid bets. Just two people who had discovered friendship could never be enough.

Even though I had told Jaemin I was just joking about this whole wooing thing, he refused to accept it, going to extreme lengths to make my heart flutter. I was already stupidly in love with him, yet he kept trying to make me swoon even more.

Despite our busy schedules, we made sure to see each other every day. It could’ve been a date at the arcade or just a quick coffee or a video call. In all honestly, I gladly accepted any form of contact from Jaemin.

I hated the prospect of going through a day without any message from him.

Except for many mini and maxi dates, Jaemin would also spoil me with plenty of encouraging notes of many kinds. Each massage from Jaemin was even sillier from the previous one. He never ceased to amaze me.

At first, Jaemin would stick post-it notes in different places in my room. Whenever I paid no attention, he would quickly write one for me to find it later. Whenever I saw sleep tight message stuck to my bedpost or you looked extra sexy today attached to the mirror, I smiled like an idiot, imaging Jaemin writing it.

If Jaemin forgot about post-it notes, he would always make it up to me by sending me corny direct messages. We would always text each other before sleep, and Jaemin never failed to make me smile with words such as:

If you happen to have wet dreams of me, you gotta tell me everything that happened. We can recreate it later.

I saw some sexy lingerie on my way home. Your ass would look amazing in it. I’m gonna buy it for you when I get my paycheck.

You’re the reason I wake up in the morning. Just kidding, I have to pee.

Whenever we went out, Jaemin would also scribble something either on a napkin or on a receipt. One time, Jaemin even gave a crumbled piece of paper that he was carrying in his pocket for some reason.

You know I’d give you my kidney, right? And a piece of the liver if you ask nicely. I hope you would do the same for me.

When we have kids, I’ll let you name the first one. Don’t fuck it up.

You’re my favorite pain in the ass.

You are stuck with me. You better get used to it.

Messy notes weren’t sufficient for Jaemin. Although I was more than content with the attention and affection he was giving me, it wasn’t enough for Jaemin. With each massage, he had to out-do himself.

Jaemin even wrote me a song! Or at least, he tried to write me a song. It was really bold of him to assume I didn’t know the lyrics to Jonas Brothers’ Sucker. I loved this song, and even though I perfectly knew it wasn’t Jaemin’s piece of work, I still appreciated the gesture.

Later on, his love letters reached another level of ridiculousness. Jaemin sent me a love e-mail, and if that doesn’t prove how extra he can get, I don’t know what can.

Jaemin didn’t stop there. No, it was just a warm-up.

When I was checking the mailbox, I found a paper plane stuck in between bills. Jaemin must’ve put it there, probably after one of his frequent visits to my apartment. Though the paper plane was a little bit crumbled, I found it incredibly adorable. On its wing, it had “open me” written with Jaemin’s messy handwriting. Inside there was a corny message that turned my insides in absolute cringe.

Your wings already exist. All you have to do is fly.

A few days later, Jaemin gave me a CD with the love playlist he had made for me. Carefully, he had chosen our favorite songs and burned them on a disc. I had no means to actually play it, but I adored the gesture.

Jaemin’s creativity did not disappoint. At this point, he might send me a love letter via a fax machine, and I wouldn’t be surprised. There were no limitations to his imagination, and it was one of the many things I loved about him.

Neither of us dropped the L-bomb yet, but we really didn’t need to. Though that dreaded word has yet to be spoken, we perfectly knew how we felt about each other. We would do anything for one another; no doubt in that.

Having exceeded my expectations, Jaemin proved himself worthy of being my boyfriend. Or rather, he showed me he was way out of my league. When he was bending over backward, I was passively basking in the glory of Jaemin’s confessions. Relationships were about giving and taking, and it seemed our balance was off.

It was time we switched roles. It was only fair if I tried to creep my way into his heart the way he had been wooing mine.

As soon as I cleaned up the apartment and pampered myself a little bit, I pulled out my phone, quickly texting Jaemin. Hopefully, he wasn’t that busy.

my love 💖 | 18:12 | U want to come over?

baNANA 🍓 | 18:16 | 😏

baNANA 🍓 | 18:16 | You miss me???

my love 💖 | 18:17 | 🤡 🤡 🤡 🤡 🤡

my love 💖 | 18:17 | nvm forget I asked

baNANA 🍓 | 18:17 | 😧 😧 😧

baNANA 🍓 | 18:18 | I’ll be in an hour

baNANA 🍓 | 18:18 | want me to bring anything?

my love 💖 | 18:19 | nah, just get your cute butt over here

baNANA 🍓 | 18:19 | ?????

baNANA 🍓 | 18:19 | are you high??

baNANA 🍓 | 18:19 | should I be concerned?

Okay, I had an hour to prepare something for our impromptu date. It was fine; it was more than enough than I needed. The apartment was already clean, so I just had to whip something to eat and cool the bubbles.

For some reason, I felt in a celebratory mood. Whatever tempo Jaemin and I had, it worked in two week periods. We had fake-dated for fourteen days before we called it quits. Then, we didn’t talk to each other for two weeks. Tonight another period came by, and I wanted to celebrate it, hoping to break the unfortunate chain of bad luck.

The alcohol was already in the refrigerator. Having put on an apron, I opened all the cabinets around the kitchen, quickly analyzing the ingredients and what I can make out of them. It wasn’t much, but pasta would have to be enough.

It wasn’t a fancy dish, but I was made it with love, so Jaemin shouldn’t have any complaints. Pouring my emotions into the pasta was to make it extra flavorful.

When the sauce was slowly cooking on the stove, I decorated the table. I wanted to provide Jaemin with some high-end restaurant experience despite being in my cramped apartment. It was the best thing out of two words; we had all privacy in the world offered by a homely atmosphere, but at the same time, we would eat some beautifully garnished food.

Just when I was about to drain the pasta, someone knocked on the doors.

“Coming,” I hollered before I put the pot in the sink, wiping my hands on the apron before making my way to answer the doors. “Hey there, beautiful,” I greeted Jaemin with a playful remark, standing on my toes to press a brief smooch on his adorable lips. It took him off guard, but in some sense, he liked it.

“Hey, it’s my line,” Jaemin nagged when his hands found purchase on my hips, bringing me closer for another kiss since one was never enough. “What do you have there? It smells delicious,” Jaemin turned his head, trying to peek inside to see what surprise I had prepared for him.

“You know, just some carbs,” I answered vaguely, sending him a playful smirk, not wanting to ruin the surprise. I wanted him to sit down at the table and wait for me to bring the whole dish and pour us some cheap champagne.

Jaemin took off his shoes, kicking them to the side. A second later, he handed me his coat, and I put it on the hanger. Jaemin was wearing a pair of gray jeans and a mint oversized hoodie, and I drooled over this comfortable look. He didn’t have to try hard to impress me.

“Just wait here. I’ll be back in a sec,” I spoke when I guided Jaemin to the table, forcing him to sit down in the chair. Jaemin wanted to help me out in the kitchen, but I firmly refused. Tonight I wished to impress Jaemin; he didn’t have to move a finger.

“I know it’s not much, but I hope you’ll still like it,” I whispered when I put a plate in front of him. “Dig in,” I added as I sat on the other side of the table, carefully trying to pop the champagne bottle open. Though I hated doing it, too afraid of breaking something or hurting someone, tonight I wanted to try it.

“What’s the occasion,” Jaemin wondered as he fondly watched me fight with the bottle. “Do you need some help? You’re gonna hurt yourself,” Jaemin offered, genuinely concerned about my safety. However, I just turned around, wanting to finish it by myself.

It took me good five minutes to pop it. And when I finally did it, Jaemin gave me a round of pitiful applause, officially declaring it’s his job from now on.

“It was just painful to watch,” Jaemin playfully commented, and I kicked his shin under the table, showing him how much appreciated his remark was. “So… what’s the occasion?”

“Do I really need to have a reason to spoil my boyfriend?” I innocently asked, batting my eyelashes, and Jaemin smiled at the word boyfriend. We had never discussed labels, but it was self-explanatory we were in a loving relationship. “I figured it’d be nice to give you some more attention,” I absentmindedly added as I reached for my phone to play some soft EDM music through the Bluetooth speaker.

“Is that it?” Jaemin wondered, gazing into my eyes, searching for any ulterior motive I might have. “Are you sure you’re not trying to butter me up before you say something I may not like? What did you do?” Jaemin inquired, and I chuckled loudly.

“Calm down, Na,” I spoke, making Jaemin look up at me once again. I only called him by his surname when I was extra affectionate, so he was curious what I was going to say. “I just wanted to hang out with you. That’s all,” I confessed, but Jaemin scrutinized his eyes, not really buying my innocent talk. “Okay, fine. There’s one more thing.”

“What is it?” Jaemin inquired, grinning at me.

“Can’t you already tell? I am trying to woo my way into your pants, duh,” I confessed, and Jaemin choked on his champagne as he did not expect this wording. “Your heart! I meant to say into your heart,” I corrected when I realized my little Freudian slip. “Wait, no, screw it. I second that. I want to get into both.”

“You’ve already got into one,” Jaemin declared with a lopsided smirk pinned to his face. “But... if you don’t suspect it already, you’re welcome in both,” he added mischievously, taking a sip of his alcohol. I, on the other hand, looked away, feeling the heat in my cheeks.

“Good to know.”

“Where are Jiwoo and Ten by the way?” Jaemin wondered as he looked around the apartment, finding it suspicious they didn’t crash our date yet. Under typical circumstances, Jiwoo or Ten would haul another chair to the table and steal the food, third-wheeling our date.

“Ten is at the dance studio. He’s having a dance competition next week, so he goes there every time he has some free time to practice. And Jiwoo is with Jaehyun. He came here to pick her up a few hours ago. I don’t think either of them is coming home anytime soon,” I explained, smirking. We had the place to ourselves.

Finally, we could bask in each other’s company without any intrusive guests.

“I’d like to cheers to that,” Jaemin raised his glass, clinking it gently against mine.

Having eaten the food, we moved to the couch.

“What now?” Jaemin asked as he stretched his arm, resting it on the back of the couch right over my shoulders.

“I have one more surprise,” I announced before I jumped to my feet. “Wait a second,” I added before bolting to my bedroom.

“What is it?” Jaemin inquired, having no clue what else I could surprise him with. “What do you have there?” He pressed, tilting his head to the side, trying to see what I was hiding behind my back.

“Let’s take some pictures,” I announced in excitement, showing him my Polaroid camera. “I finally bought some film, and I really want our photo in my wallet,” I added as I plopped down onto the couch, resting my head against Jaemin’s chest. “You take it,” I ordered, handing him the camera. After all, he was the prodigy of photography. Besides, his hands were longer than mine.

“I think that’s more than enough,” Jaemin spoke after snapping the twelfth picture.

Having put the camera on the coffee table, he wrapped his arms around me. Jaemin pulled me on his laps, embracing me tightly, placing a round of pecks against my temple.

“Wait! One more thing,” I hollered, leaning forward to reach for the envelope which was lying on the coffee table next to our photos.

“You can’t say it’s the last thing and then bring another one. That’s not how it works,” Jaemin nagged, a little flustered that I managed to find another excuse when he wanted to cuddle. “Who are you? A fitness instructor? When you say it’s the last one, it should be the last one. You can’t come up with new ones every three minutes.”

“I promise it’s the last one,” I sat cross-legged on the couch beside him, handing him the envelope. Cautiously, he pulled the card out of it, and I looked at him, studying his expression in excitement.

“Annoyingly, I like you way more than I’d originally planned,” Jaemin read the cover of the card, smiling widely at the passive-aggressive message. “It’s already good, and I didn’t even read what you wrote inside,” he commented before he leaned forward to kiss my forehead. “I don’t get it,” he added in confusion as he saw the blank page inside the card.

“It’s my love letter for you,” I clarified, but Jaemin was still clueless.

“It’s a blank page. You really have that little to say?” Jaemin asked, trying to make sense out of my card.

“That’s not how you were supposed to interpret that!” I yelled, climbing on his laps, wanting to tear the card out of his ungrateful hands. Unfortunately, Jaemin’s hands were longer than mine, so even when I was hovering over his thighs, I couldn’t reach it.

“How was I supposed to interpret that then?” Jaemin challenged, holding my hips, forcing them down on his laps.

“I wanted to write something meaningful, but I just couldn’t decide what. I have so many things I want to tell you, it wouldn’t even fit on the card,” I started, trying to find the best way to form a coherent sentence. “One way to interpret it is that you have to imagine it’s written in a very tiny font. Because I have so much to tell you, I wrote everything down, but you just can’t read it.”

“I like it,” Jaemin whispered, pressing a gentle kiss against my knuckles.

“Or you can say it’s blank because whenever I’m with you, my head is completely empty,” I added, chuckling at the corny confession. “Or you can assume there are no words to describe my feelings for you.”

“How is it possible that without writing anything, you managed to top all of my love letters?” Jaemin wondered, smiling at me. “What kind of sorcery is this?”

“No, Jaemin. You’re not giving yourself enough credit. I loved your love letters. They were silly, but at the same time, I could feel you really meant everything,” I reasoned, looking down at Jaemin’s lips, slowly leaning in for a delicate kiss.

“Okay, I have an idea,” Jaemin suddenly spoke as he grabbed my butt and threw me off his laps. “I need a pen,” he added, looking around the living room, finding the pen on the coffee table. In a hurry, he scribbled down something on the blank page of the card, making sure I couldn’t peek. “Here, I found my way to interpret it.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,” Jaemin answered confidently, handing me the card. “Read it out loud for me.”

“Okay, I guess,” I cleared my throat before I opened the card. “My beloved Jaemin,” I read, looking at Jaemin’s face with a raised eyebrow. This was going to be good.

“Carry on,” he urged, and I shook my head, unable to believe I was going to do it.

“You’re the most handsome man I have ever seen. You’re also the smartest and the funniest. Not to mention, you’re the best kisser in the world. What the fuck is this?” I interjected, having doubts, knowing it was a bad idea.

“Just keep reading, babe,” Jaemin ordered, wanting me to carry on with his antics. “Though you’re no poet, it’s, by a huge margin, the best love letter I have ever received,” he added, blowing his ego way out of proportion, and I rolled my eyes.

“Now, when I look at you, I understand there’s not a chance I wouldn’t fall for you. So, since there’s not much space left, I just wanna tell you that I love you. I really love you, Jaemin.”

Before I managed to complain that he forced me to say the L-word first, Jaemin interjected.

“Finally, took you long enough,” he teased, and I sighed, wondering where to hit him first. “As if you haven’t figured it out yet, I love you, too.”

“You’re impossible,” I commented, still not quite sure if we just confessed to each other.

“I’m impossible not to fall in love with,” Jaemin corrected, once again hauling me back on his laps, taking my breath away with a fervent kiss. “How about you show me how you want to get into my pants, babe?”

Having had enough of Jaemin’s teasing, I decided not to comply with his request.

“I think you should go.”

“You’re right,” Jaemin agreed too quickly, and it made me alert. “Let’s go to your room because once I start pounding into you, I will not stop even if a group of nuns was about to break in and steal all of your shit,” he added as he picked me up, carrying me to my bedroom.

“You’re impossible,” I repeated my words when Jaemin threw me onto my bed before he landed on it right beside me.

“I think we’ve already discussed this,” he remarked, reminding me of the remark he had given me earlier. “So… where were we?” Jaemin asked as he put his hand on my side, pulling me closer. Soon enough, his palm slipped under the hem of my shirt, caressing my skin.

“Is it weird that the only thing I can think about is you eating me out?” I wondered out loud, stripped of all remains of dignity. Jaemin was in my bed, and I was planning on taking full advantage of it.

“Not at all, love,” Jaemin replied, showing me his eager smile. Quickly, he sat on his calves between my legs, taking his time to take off my jeans. “I thought about eating you out way too often ever since that thing in the bathroom,” Jaemin confessed as he threw my jeans across the room.

Though my panties were still on, Jaemin began his teasing. His soft lips trailed across my thighs, driving me crazy. His lips touched every inch of my skin except for the area I wanted the most. At this point, my panties were dripping wet, yet he didn’t even think of pulling them to the side, giving attention to my much-ignored core.

“You’re killing me,” I whispered, slowly losing patience. If Jaemin kept up with his antics, I’d combust out of sexual frustration. “Bold of you to assume I won’t let you taste your own medicine,” I warned Jaemin. It worked because as soon as I voiced my mischievous threat, Jaemin’s finger hooked under the hem of my panties, quickly pulling them down my legs.

“You’re no fun at all,” Jaemin clarified before his lips finally landed on my clit, making me buckle my hips in an instant. Slowly, his mouth moved against my sweet spot, and I arched my back with each swirl of his tongue.

Though he barely started, I could feel the electricity coursing through my body. In my state of permanent frustration, it wouldn’t be difficult for Jaemin to make me come against his mouth.

Getting into it, Jaemin squeezed my hips, trying to keep me still when he ate me out. His jaw was dripping in my juices as he made his way down to lick my folds.

“Fuck,” I moaned loudly when Jaemin’s nose rubbed my clit when he was running his tongue all over my entrance. “I think I am gonna come,” I admitted what made Jaemin smirk through the kiss. Jaemin barely touched me, but I was already close.

“Come for me,” Jaemin urged, releasing my hips from his firm grip. Now when I could buckle my hips against his face, my orgasm was just seconds away. With my hand in his hair, I rocked my hips, basking in pleasure.

“I need your fingers,” I begged, and Jaemin quickly obeyed my shameful plea. I expected him to tease me further, denying me his long fingers, but he was kind enough to do anything to make me come.

Thanks to my juices and Jaemin’s saliva, his two fingers slid right in.

“Fuck,” I shouted at the top of my voice when the wave of pleasure shot right through me. Jaemin’s jaw still played with my clit as he continued his actions throughout the orgasm.

“You blew my mind, Jaemin,” I muttered after I regained my focus after he had made me come on his face. “I came so hard,” I confessed, smiling like an idiot. It was way too long ever since someone made me feel this good.

“You better get used to it because I am planning this to be a frequent occurrence,” Jaemin whispered, looking at my face as if it was an art piece. “Do you have condoms?” he casually asked as he pulled down his jeans. His erected cock was restrained in the denim fabric, and Jaemin needed to get rid of it.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” I replied as I opened the bedside table and threw a brand new package of condoms at Jaemin’s chest. “Jiwoo got me those after she walked on our pillow fight the other day. Apparently, she doesn’t want any cum stains on the couch.”

For a while, we were lying on the bed, staring at each other. Jaemin gave me some time to recover from my orgasm. According to him, I needed to take breaks because he didn’t want to over-stimulate me too soon.

“I really love you,” Jaemin confessed genuinely, and I quickly rolled closer to him, giving him another chase smooch. His confession was music to my ears, and I could listen to it on repeat without getting tired of it.

“I love you, too,” I quickly replied, leaning in for another kiss. With his hand on my cheek, he deepened the kiss, giving us another chance to get lost in the love trance.

Having thrown my leg over his hipbone, I hovered over his erection.

“Let me take care of you,” I said as I pulled away from the kiss. With a playful smirk upon my face, I grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head. Slowly after, my bra followed suit, and Jaemin grunted upon seeing me completely naked in front of him.

“Sexy,” he purred before he eagerly took off his hoodie, throwing it onto the floor. “On a second thought, maybe you should put something on. You’re too sexy, and I’d like to last longer,” Jaemin explained, handing me his hoodie so I could cover myself up. “No, it’s even worse. Take it off,” he changed his mind after seeing me in his clothes.

Carefully, I pulled Jaemin’s boxers down his legs, letting his rock hard cock spring free. Biting on my lips, I grabbed his erection, giving it a few gentle strokes.

“Fuck it, I am ready,” Jaemin yelled, placing his hand over mine, making me stop. “You have all the time in the world to blow me. Right now, I want to feel you,” he added, quickly pulling out a condom from its packaging.

“Let me at least roll it down for you,” I offered, and Jaemin sighed, weighing his options.

“Nah, I am not willing to take that risk,” Jaemin answered, proceeding to wrap his cock by himself. “Now, come here, sit down on it,” he urged, and I shook my head. Smiling like an idiot, I guided his cock towards my entrance, slowly sinking down on his length.

“You’re good?” I asked, trying to guess what was going on inside his brain. Judging by his sour expression, he must’ve been thinking about something terrible in order to stop himself from coming too soon.

“Yes, everything’s cool,” he reassured, and I took it as permission to gently rock my hips back and forth. Whenever I moved, Jaemin kept grunting quietly. Apparently, he also suffered from sexual frustration.

My hands were wandering all over his muscular chest, admiring his athletic built. My hips were moving at a steady rhythm, but whenever I happened to increase the tempo, Jaemin would slow me down with a firm grip on my hips.

“If you keep doing that, I might spank you,” Jaemin warned me, but it only made me want to disobey more. “Why did I even expect you to be a good girl?” Jaemin asked, rolling his eyes.

“Spank me,” I ordered, trying my best not to chuckle. “I dare you,” I added, pushing the right buttons. “Like that,” I moaned when Jaemin’s hand collided against my butt, shaking me with newfound excitement.

“You’re impossible,” Jaemin comment, still in shock after discovering how much into spanking I happened to be.

“I’m impossible not to fall in love with,” I remarked, using Jaemin’s own words against him.

Unable to handle my teasing, Jaemin sat up. “I love you so much,” Jaemin stated once again before he looked at my lips, kissing them. Now, when I was distracted by his tongue, it was easier for him to control my movement.

In our upgraded position, I significantly slowed down. Carefully, I moved up and down Jaemin’s cock, while he sneaked his hand between our entangled bodies, rubbing my clit. I was close, and I was about to come again.

I didn’t know what he was so self-conscious about. No doubt I would come first.

“Jaemin, I am coming,” I breathed out, messing up my rhythm. It was difficult to maintain the same tempo when Jaemin was playing with my clit. Jaemin’s lips moved down my neck, finding a perfect spot on my collarbone to leave a hickey.

“Me, too,” Jaemin whispered as he began thrusting from underneath me, now desperate to push the both of us off the edge. “You’re so tight, fuck,” he cursed as my walls started to swell around his throbbing cock.

Jaemin moaned against my skin, muffling his sinful sounds. I, on the other hand, screamed Jaemin’s name at the top of my voice, telling everybody in the world he was the person, making me feel this good.

Having fallen onto the sheets, we looked into each other’s eyes. We were panting as if we just ran a marathon. Not that I had any doubts, but Jaemin turned out to be a passionate lover, and it made me love him even more.

“You’re beautiful,” Jaemin complimented me, staring at my face in utter admiration. “I am so lucky,” he added, and I moved closer, snuggling up to him. It was still early, but I was so fucked out, I could fall asleep right there in his arms.

Having pulled me closer to his chest, Jaemin threw a duvet over our sweaty bodies. His fingers were tracing shapes on my shoulder when he pressed yet another peck against my temple.

“Are you down for another round?” Jaemin asked as he discarded the full condom. His cock was still semi-hard. In a few minutes, Jaemin would be ready for some more. “It’s cool if you’re not,” he added, trying not to put any pressure on me.

“I want you to do me all night,” I confessed, looking over my shoulder at the clock. It’s only 8 pm, and I could stay up till daylight with Jaemin.

“Do you want to go bowling tomorrow?” Jaemin asked, and I eagerly nodded. It was fun the last time I had joined the boys on their monthly trip to the bowling alley. Besides, I would be the first woman to break the unfortunate one-time-only curse. I couldn’t wait to show up two months in a row.

“I’d love that,” I answered, snuggling closer to Jaemin’s side.

In content, we basked in happiness until Jaemin regained enough energy to go for the third time. However, this time around, it was slow and steamy. Under the covers, Jaemin crawled on top of me, kissing every inch of my body.

“Do you want to roll it down on me? I think I can handle that,” Jaemin asked, and I reached for the condom, carefully rolling it down his length. “I wish I could fuck you without one, though,” he added, and I flicked his forehead, making him whine. “I’ll pull out.”

“I trust you, but it’s still a no from me,” I replied, guiding his cock into my entrance. Inch by inch, Jaemin pushed himself all the way in. “You fill me up so well,” I praised, purring into his ear. “I love your cock.”

Distance between our bodies was practically nonexistent. Jaemin was slowly snapping his hips, rubbing his pelvic bone against my clit, turning me into a moaning mess. I wouldn’t be surprised if my neighbors called the police because of all the noise coming from my bedroom.

“One day, you’ll let me fuck you raw. I’ll make sure you do,” Jaemin carried on, and I hissed, feeling the approaching orgasm. I didn’t even bother to comment on Jaemin’s statement. I was whipped for him. I knew I wasn’t able to maintain my assertive stance for long. Eventually, I’d cave in, letting him fuck me without a condom. It wasn’t today, though.

“In your dreams, lover boy,” I answered, but Jaemin just giggled, knowing I wasn’t serious.

“You have no idea how many times we’ve done it raw in my dreams,” Jaemin confessed as he picked up his pace, pounding into my pussy, making me moan at the sudden speed. “One day, I’ll tell you all about my fantasies, but right now, I really want this pussy to cream around my cock,” he added, his filthy words making my walls squeeze around his length.

“You wait until I tell you mine,” I challenged with a smirk. If Jaemin thought he was the only one with a dirty mind, he was seriously mistaken. While most of my fantasies were PG-13, there was still a large portion of naughty scenarios. Now, when Jaemin and I were finally together, it would be fun to try to recreate at least some of them.

“You better come because I can’t go much longer,” Jaemin warned me, pounding in and out, chasing his own release. “Fuck,” he yelled, falling on top of me as he shot his load into the condom. His cock twitched inside of me as he moved slowly, riding out his orgasm.

“Jaemin,” I hollered, coming undone underneath him. Despite the other peaks, this orgasm hit me the hardest. For a brief second, my vision turned black as I gave in to the pleasure.

Breathlessly, I lay in the sheets, slowly descending from my high.

“I think all I can do tonight is cuddle,” I commented, feeling too fucked out to engage in any other form of affection. “I don’t think I can walk.”

“It’s okay. I can carry you around the house,” Jaemin answered, finding a solution for my problem. Having pulled his limp cock out of me, Jaemin rolled down another condom, putting it aside.

“What is it?” Jaemin asked as he heard a noise from the living room.

“It sounded as if someone was knocking on the doors,” I spoke, trying to identify the sound. “It must be a courier for Jiwoo. She keeps ordering stuff online. It’s probably the late evening delivery she forgot about. Can you get it?”

“No problem, babe,” Jaemin answered as he put on his jeans, walking around the bed to answer the door.

At first, I wanted to wait for Jaemin in bed. However, it’s been like three minutes, and he didn’t come back, so I found it weird.

Having put on Jaemin’s hoodie and a pair of leggings, I made my way out of the room.

Jaemin was standing by the doors, looking inside a plastic bag. Whatever it was, it smelled like Thai food. Unfortunately, it didn’t explain anything. We were here alone, and we didn’t order anything.

Just when I was about to open my mouth and ask Jaemin what the hell was going on, Ten walked out of his room. It was strange, but I saw him leave, and I didn’t hear him come back.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I asked angrily, trying to hide my embarrassment. If he was here the whole time, he must’ve heard us having sex.

“I live here, duh,” Ten answered matter-of-factly, choosing not to give me the explanation which I desperately needed. “I think it’s mine,” Ten spoke as he walked up to Jaemin to take his Thai takeout.

Although Jaemin and I were standing in the living room in complete consternation, Ten didn’t seem to pay any attention to it. In front of his bedroom, Ten stopped in his tracks, turning his head to face me.

“Congratulations, by the way,” Ten spoke, making me even more embarrassed. “Three times, wow. It’s impressive. Don’t fuck this up, dear. He’s a keeper,” Ten added, sending me a playful wink before he disappeared inside his room.

915 notes · View notes

taesspark · 3 years ago

Text

A Normal Friday Afternoon

drabble #1 from the Spellbound series

pairing: Jungkook x reader

genre: enemies to lovers (but mostly enemies so far oops), hogwarts au

word count: 2.2k

warnings: violence (oc punches jungkook in the face), swearing

It’s a normal Friday afternoon at Hogwarts, meaning everyone is going insane. You wonder why Professor Snape even bothers teaching Potions right now since it doesn’t look like anyone is paying the slightest bit of attention. He even chose a hard potion for the class to make, individually this time. As if making it an individual assignment could stop a group of annoying 17-year-olds from wreaking havoc.

You flicker your eyes in annoyance at Jeon Jungkook and his rowdy group of friends. They had created a game where they launch the ingredients into each others’ cauldrons, giving each other points based on how close it got. Usually you try to get along with your classmates, especially fellow Gryffindors, but Jungkook has always been the sole exception. There’s something about him that grates all of your nerves like a carrot. Maybe it’s the way he’s good at all the same things you are, but he makes it seem more effortless. Maybe it’s the way everyone thinks he’s so innocent and kind, when he’s been metaphorically (and literally) pulling on your hair since first year.

It started with the little things. You were friendly to him, like you are to everyone, and as an 11-year-old, you had nothing to complain about. Something changed one day when you were walking past him in the hallway to class and he hit you with a hex that he hadn’t mastered yet. You remember falling to the ground in pain, watching your stinging flesh go boneless. And Jungkook? He was laughing.

You’re no less of a witch or a Gryffindor though. With your limp arm, you cast the strongest dancing hex you could muster. It worked, of course, and Jungkook was known as “Happy Feet” for at least another year for the way he danced around Hogwarts that day.

It’s a memory you keep close, as a reminder to never trust the sweet smile and starry eyes of Jeon Jungkook.

If you looked at all of the detentions you’ve served in your 6 years of being a Hogwarts student (and there are plenty), you’re sure 99% would have been from fighting with Jungkook, whether it’s yelling at him, cursing him, or swatting him with your broomstick in midair during Quidditch practice. Because of course he would join the Quidditch team at the same time you did.

You’re not in the mood for fighting today, though. You’re exhausted from a frankly awful week, and you just want to finish your stupid potion, get your stupid grade, and go to your stupid dorm so you can sleep.

Your only good friend in this potions class is a Ravenclaw girl named Nina. For a Ravenclaw, she’s chatty, and she flits around you while you grind up asphodel root for your potion. With a quick slide of your knife, you dump the crushed root into your potion. It bubbled. Beside you, Nina bubbled even more, her personality like soda that had been shaken too hard.

“-and then Emilia told me that she asked Irene if she would go with her to Hogsmeade next weekend, but Irene said she’s already going with Jieun, but Sam told me that Jieun is going alone, so what’s even the truth? You’d think that she’d at least-”

“Maybe you should mind your business.” You give her a sour look, and you hope it isn’t too harsh. “Just a thought.”

Nina’s mouth curls into a rueful smile. “You’re spending too much time with Yoongi lately.”

You crack a smile at the thought of your best friend and his (only partly true) reputation. No one dares cross Min Yoongi, a 7th year Slytherin with a killer poker face. As one of his best friends, you can see right through it.

“There’s no such thing as too much time with Yoongi,” you grumble.

Nina leaves you alone after that, thank god. You usually have a higher tolerance for her chattiness and gossip, but today your patience is running thin. Luckily, she knows you well enough to not seem upset at your attitude.

You sprinkle a serum into the potion before stirring it clockwise ten times. It’s the last step of the potion, and yours is already turning the perfect shade of mint green. You count to yourself as you stir: One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight-

You don’t make it to ten. You were so goddamn close.

“Oh, shit-”

You don’t register who curses. All you can see is a bottle of serum—someone else’s bottle of serum— being launched straight into your cauldron, and your entire potion splattering onto your front. Your robes sizzle where the potion hit them.

“Oops.”

You recognize that voice. How could you not? You almost want to laugh.

Fucking Jeon Jungkook.

The leech lumbers up to you sheepishly, scratching at the back of his head. “My bad. We were playing a game, and I missed pretty bad.”

He chuckles a little, surveying the green ooze all over you. “Green is your color, Y/N. Maybe they should’ve put you in Slytherin.”

You’re seething.

A temper is not one of the traits associated with Gryffindor, but at that moment, you think maybe it should be. Lions do roar, after all.

And roar is exactly what you do. Roar and knock Jungkook the fuck out.

The room is in chaos: Professor Snape is yelling, Nina is telling you to calm down, Jungkook is on the ground in front of you, more shocked than hurt, and half the class is chanting “Fight!” because the adolescent urge to create violence never truly dies.

“Take this outside!” Snape shouts at the two of you, grabbing you both by the collar of your robes. “Fight in the hallways, I don’t care, but this is not going to happen in my classroom. When you’re done, head to McGonagall’s office. I’m sure she’d like to have a word with you two delinquents.”

Jungkook stares at you, rubbing at the bruise blooming on his cheek.

The door swings closed, slamming in your face. With a huff, you turn around and vanish the potion residue still left on your clothes with a quick spell. You barely spare a glance for Jungkook. He stands several feet away, opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

“Do you have something to say?” You snap.

He opens his mouth. Then closes it.

You roll your eyes. “Listen, Jeon. I know you did that on purpose. Very funny prank, absolutely hilarious. Truly, I’m rolling on the floor laughing right now.”

Jungkook’s eyes drop to the floor as if he expected to see you there, laughing.

“Let’s just go to McGonagall’s already,” you say, posture slumping at the thought of being yelled at by the intimidating professor.

“I didn’t do it on purpose,” he says. Jungkook rolls his shoulders, and you see him gain some of his usual bravado. “We were playing a game, I already explained this to you.”

You bark out a laugh, just one. “I’m not stupid.”

He cocks a brow. “Are you sure? I bet my potion was better than yours even though I was dicking around for the entire class.”

“Fuck off.”

“Hit a nerve?”

“No.”

It’s like this, for the long, long, long trek from the dungeons to Gryffindor tower where McGonagall’s office is.

“You know, you don’t have to be such an asshole all the time,” you say, turning the corner. Jungkook jogs after you to keep up.

“I don’t? No way, all this time I thought it was mandatory.”

He sounds more upset than snarky, and in your present state of blind rage, you don’t have a single clue why he would be upset. He’s the one who ruined your potion and got you sent to McGonagall’s office. He’s the one who has been a splinter the size of Greenland in your thumb for five years and counting.

“Besides,” he adds, as if you wanted to have a conversation with him, “you’re the one who fucking punched me in the face. It’s kinda hypocritical to call me an asshole in this situation.”

“That’s a really big word, Jungkook. Did you finally learn how to read?”

Jungkook’s face crumples into a frown. “Shut up.”

“Hit a nerve?” You mock.

You think getting to McGonagall’s office is a relief until you’re finally there. McGonagall is all but screeching at the two of you. You’ve heard the same lecture several hundred times, but never in such a high pitch. You offer to make her some herbal tea for her throat, and she only gives you the evil eye. Jungkook snorts beside you. You ignore him, nudging him in the ribs with your elbow.

“Never in my days…”

“...Such stupidity from my own students!”

You fade in and out of consciousness during the lecture, and one look at Jungkook tells you he’s doing the same.

“Detention for both of you. I will see the two of you here at 9 pm sharp every day for the rest of the week,” McGonagall finally says.

Jungkook groans.

“I’m being generous,” McGonagall says. “If I see the two of you acting like violent animals again, I can and will suspend you both from the Gryffindor Quidditch team.”

You and Jungkook both make sounds of protest, only to be drowned out by McGonagall.

“I hate to see my own team lose, but it has been five years of your childish fights. You two will learn to be civil to each other, and I will make sure of it.”

The tone of her voice makes you uneasy. Jungkook beats you to the question that’s on both of your minds. “What are you going to do to us?”

The fear in his voice would make you smile if you weren’t practically shaking in your boots yourself.

“As you know, in Transfiguration, I am going to be having everyone work in teams this year. I was going to let you choose your partners, but you two have not earned that privilege.”

You turn to face Jungkook. He’s staring back at you in wide-eyed horror.

“You both are now partners in Transfiguration. Sit by each other and complete the projects together. I will not tolerate any misbehaving in my class, and if you don’t work as a team, you will be risking your own grades.” McGonagall stares at the two of you with the smallest of smiles, disgustingly smug. She’s enjoying this, and you hate her for it.

“But-”

“Professor!”

“I won’t hear it!” She shouts. Jungkook recoils. “This is final. If you have a problem, you should’ve thought about that before brawling like wrestlers in Potions.”

You hang your head, staring at how the end of your robes skims your shoes. You don’t like to be dramatic, but this sure feels like the end of the world. The rest of your year is probably ruined, thanks to McGonagall essentially sentencing you to Jungkook duty. Not to mention Transfiguration is your hardest class, even without having to compete with Jungkook. You don’t doubt that this would make everything so much harder.

“That’s all I have to say to you. Please leave,” McGonagall says, pressing a thumb and index finger into her forehead.

The two of you file out of her office, stumbling down the empty hallway. You walk in silence, thankful that classes aren’t out yet. You stop a few corridors down, and Jungkook stops next to you.

You look at him, really look at him. Other than the bruise on his face a la you, he has a sweet face and kind eyes. You remind yourself that it’s fake.

You take a step closer to him, and he tilts his head at you, nonplussed.

“Y/N?”

You brush a hand on his cheekbone, where you hit him.

“Does it hurt?” You ask.

The hallway is empty, but Jungkook still looks both ways before responding to you, as if you were a car hurtling towards him on the street. He gulps at your proximity to him, how he can feel your breath mingling with his own and your fingertips’ gentle pressure on his face.

“A little,” he says, quieter than you. “You really know how to use your fists, huh?”

He laughs. To your ears, it sounds forced. You smile. Checkmate.

Without warning, you grab his tie and jerk his face down to yours, leaving just a breath of space between your noses. You lean even closer to Jungkook, and a smile ghosts your lips when you feel him moving closer to you at the same time. You wait for one more moment, letting your warm breath hit his skin. The moment he closes his eyes, you whisper, “Good.”

His eyes flutter back open, confused, and you take your foot and slam it down on his. He all but howls in pain, nearly knocking his head into yours as he hops away.

"What was that for?"

"If you still don't know, then maybe I need to step on you again." You narrow your eyes at him, still close enough to register the clean linen smell of his clothes. “Do not cross me again. I need a good grade in Transfiguration this year, and I won’t let you ruin that for me.”

"McGonagall is right there. I could go tell her," he threatens. His eyes are wide, and you pick up on the slightest fear under his façade of arrogance.

"Okay, do it. See if I care, asshole."

You spin on your heel and storm down the corridor, leaving a stunned Jungkook in your wake.

#bts fanfiction #bts au #bts drabble #bts writing #bts scenario #jungkook scenario #Jungkook Fanfiction #jungkook #jungkook x reader #spellbound #bts hogwarts au #bts fic

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luimagines · 3 years ago

Note

Coul I request the chain reacting to meeting the reader who is Wild's sibling? (If background is needed shrieks science and them whatever purchase did so the reader is just sorta- 15-28 )

Masterlist

I don't understand the second sentence but I think I can infer what you're trying to say. And even then, I came up with a backstory that more less fixes it regardless so yay!

Wild is everyone's favorite chaotic creative sibling!

And I went for older sibling because reasons and just assume that sibling! Reader is in their early twenties.

Content under the cut!

You woke up one day in Hateno village, quietly aware of the silence that echoed through your house.

You miss your brother.

Not that he was here often with his Goddess given assignment nor did he even know who you were for the first half of it.

What a day that was.

Your little brother back from the dead, scars and all and then some... but he had no idea who you were.

It hurt to say the least. But you were told it would happen once the news reached you. He would wake up one day to finish his duty but he would not remember anything regarding his past life.

Even when he found you again, after he somehow remembered you, you didn’t know where to begin.

You just knew that you were so happy to be together again after so long that you hugged him as tight as you could and told him that your door was always open.

To say you both cried is the understatement of the century. It was wet and ugly and messy and neither of you really talk about it but it felt good that day.

And while you both knew he couldn’t stay for long with his adventure being no where near complete. He did come home for the night after he set that travel medallion of his by the front door.

But that was then- before the Calamity was defeated.

Now that it’s gone- so is your brother. Again.

On a different quest this time, it seems.

You don’t understand why your baby brother of all people has to be the one to do it and you would like nothing more than to wrap him up in a blanket and shield him from anything else that comes to hurt him- but he never let you do that as a child- let alone now.

You begin the day like any other and try to get as many mundane chores done as you can before you finally try and get the stable in the back fixed up.

You noticed Link had an affinity to horses and had checked in with the nearest stable to see that he had some lodged under his name.

There’s a place at the house, darn it. Lodge them here. It just needs to be fixed.

With your goal in mind, you lose yourself to the work and the time passes effortlessly.

It’s around noon by the time you hear it.

The familiar sound of activation that gets your heart pounding in relief and unbridled joy.

You drop your hammer and run to the front of the house with the largest grin on your face. “You’re back, you Rug Rat! Come here!”

You single him out instantly amongst the group and tackle him in a hug.

He’s long stopped trying to fight on you on this and has also returned your crushing hug with one of his own. “I’m back.”

“You brought friends too.” You grin and give the group a two fingered salute. “And here I was afraid that this loner child would end up dead in a ditch somewhere and I would be none the wiser. Thank you for looking after my little brother. I’m aware he’s a handful.”

“Ok thanks.” He says.

“Little brother?” Someone from the group asks. They’re lost amongst the sea of head but you nod regardless.

“Yup. I remember the day he was born like it was yesterday.” You grin and put your hands on your hips, introducing yourself right after. “Any friend of Link’s is a friend of the family. Come in, come in. Make yourselves at home. It’s not much but it’s ours. Been in the family since before the calamity struck. Let me wash up a bit and then we can get some food going, yeah?”

“I’ll start up the stove.” Link says and you’re about to disagree. After all, he just got home and should rest while he can but he ahs the most unburdened smile on his face that you can’t bring yourself to deny him.

“Alright.” You sigh and head to the back where the shower is. It’s always been small and a bit cramped and the door stopped fitting correctly about ten years ago but now that’s it’s not just you anymore, you can go around into the giving the house the TLC it deserves.

But you’re starting with the stable in the back.

When you’re finished and you’ve dried yourself off, you get into the house to find it in a delightful array of colors and chaos.

Each of the boys seemed to have made themselves completely at home in the time you were gone and you leaned against the door frame, watching them all interreact.

Your brother didn’t waste any time with getting the stove up and running. You can smell the beginning of lunch getting cooked and it appears that Link has wrangled two of the boys to be his helpers. One appears to be the youngest with bright wide eyes and a similar blue tunic to that of Links and the other looks to be slightly more timid in the process. He’s around the same height as Link but darker hair and a long white cape still clasped around his shoulders.

You recognize the Master Sword strapped to his back.

Making a note of that you look around the room again. Three of them have made themselves comfortable at the table. One is easily the biggest guy of the group, red and blue tattoos on his face and scar over his eye as he watches the others go about the admittedly small house. The other two look to be the same size and you’re sure you can look them in the eye if you needed to. They’re talking to both each other and the group that’s cooking. One has a wolf pelt on his shoulder with more tattoos on his face and other is a knight if you’ve ever seen one with a bright blue scarf around his neck.

You’re not one to judge your brother’s friends but you make a mental note to watch him in case he tries anything.

Two of the boys- one with pink hair and the other have the most solid brown mane of the whole group have made themselves spares and are talking quietly to each other and not making a fuss.

The final one looks to be the smallest but he’s got an older glint to his eye that recognize well. He’s wearing arguably the most color tunic of the group with those four patches sewn together. He’s tucked himself away into a corner with a book out, not interacting with either of them outright but he has been looking up and adding his two cents to the older’s conversation at the table.

They don’t notice you’re back which is a testament to how tired they all must be.

They’re an interesting bunch.

But Link did always surround himself with interesting people.

So you’re not really surprised.

“Sooo...” Pinky starts off, calling your bother’s attention. “You have an older sibling?”

“Yup!” He answers, not looking up from the pot. “They were waiting for me the whole time, and even manage to keep the house. Up keep still needs to be done but we’ve been working on it together.”

“But they’re older.”

“Yes. We’ve established this.”

You have to hold back your snort.

“You were asleep for one hundred years.” Four Patches speaks up, closing his book silently. ”Shouldn’t they... ummm...”

“Be dead?”

“Or at least really old?” Mr. Brunette hops in, trying to lessen the blow of the sentence.

“You’re like one hundred and seven teen right? Wouldn’t that put them at being one hundred and twenty something?” Wolf boy offers.

“I guess so. Yeah. They were old at some point.” Link stops stirring and you can see him try to run the numbers in his head. “I know that much. The village talks about them being really old sometimes, but I guess that was years ago because it’s only from the older folk that live here.”

“But they lived through those one hundred years, didn’t they?” Blue Baby Face speaks this time.

“That’s what they told me.”

“So....” The knight tilts his head and tries to put his hands out as if that would help answer the question. “They’re like the Old Man then? Old in their head but young on the outside.”

“You can say that, yeah.” You say and take extreme satisfaction at the way most of the jump at your voice. “Unlike Link, I was alive the whole time he was asleep. I’ve got grandkids in Lurelin and they visit from time to time but someone had to at least keep the house up and running, might as well have been me.”

“I...” Link starts as he takes the food off the burner. “I never asked you how you stayed young, did I?”

“Nope.”

“Oh.” He looks away and deflates a little. Link looks a little disappointed with himself and that won’t stand in this house.

“I didn’t realize it was that important. And I’m going to assume you’ve explained most of the situation Rug Rat.” You laugh a little with a raised eyebrow. “You can blame Purah. You know she wanted to find a way to keep the old from aging, right? It’s why she’s in the body of a little kid again. But when she tried the second formula she realized that if she tried it on herself that it might as well but poof her back into a baby and she wanted to contact Robbie but he’s too far and too old to make that trip. I volunteered.”

“Really?”

“It still didn’t really work, I was transformed into a teenager instead of a child- a horrible time to exist really. But I suppose it was a blessing in disguise. By the time this one-” You step into the house fully and ruffle Link’s hair. “-came back, it left us with the same age gap as before. So in the end I can’t complain.”

“Why’d you volunteer?” Cape guy leans on the wall. “There’s only so many times you can test it, right? Who’s to say it wouldn’t have been worse?”

“Yeah, what if it did transform you into a baby again and you forgot everything?” Four Patches stands up and comes to stand by the table, putting his book on top of it.

“I wanted to take the risk.” you shrug and pull your brother into a hug. “Is it a crime to want to see my baby brother again not matter the cost?”

“Get off.” He whines.

You laugh but do as he asks. “It was never said when he’d be back. Only that he would. I was willing to buy as much time as needed to be there for him.”

“I didn’t remember you...” He mutters to himself.

“You now, don’t you?” You punch him gently. “We’ve talked about this. It’s ok. I knew it was going to happen. It wasn’t going to stop me. Ganon himself couldn’t properly get rid of me. I’m not leaving your side anytime soon.”

He smiles and turns to hug you.

“Now where’s your wolf friend?” You ask. “Are you still traveling together? There’s something I wanted to give him.”

Wolf Pelt shimmies in his seat for a second but you don’t think much of it.

Link shakes his head. “Not right now but he has been coming by every now and then.”

“Well it’s good he’s still around to look after you then in my stead.”

“We have a horse though.” Link tilts his head up to grin at you. “It’s not the same but her name is Epona.”

Familiarity stabs you in the heart and you know it’s something that Link even remember even if he lives another one hundred years.

He was too little when she passed.

“...Like dad’s old horse. Can I see her?” You say with a light constriction in your throat. “How crazy would it be if they looked alike?”

“Dad had a horse?”

“You wouldn’t remember her, you were too little. I barely remember her as it is but yes, he did.” You take a step back and motion back towards the door. “Maybe after lunch you show me. We can bring her to the back and measure up how the stable is. I’ve been fixing it up.”

“Really!?” Link blinks, an excited glint appearing in his eyes.

“Yes. That’s what I was doing when you first came in. But let’s eat first.” You put your hand to the small of his back and push him gently in the direction of the table. “And then you can tell me about your friends and this new adventure of yours.”

#linked universe x reader #linkeduniverse #lu wild #it's a bit longer than the other one shots #and yet i think it's the most uneventful #let me know what you guys think #linked universe

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kojinnie · 4 years ago

Text

With The Exception of You

I dislike everyone in the room.

Pairing/Character: Reiner x Reader (she/her), Porco Galliard

Tags: SFW, fluff, college!au, Reiner Braun is a jock who is tired of his own friends, secret relationship

WC: 3.2K

Summary: Reiner had agreed to be in a discreet relationship with you, but after six months and with the arrival of Porco Galliard around you, he couldn’t help but to mark his territory.

Reiner couldn’t seem to fathom the butterflies wreaking havoc in his stomach. It came out of nowhere, as it often happened to be. Once in a while, he could feel his guts twisting as his chest filled with overflown emotions at odd times. Reiner hated it when it happened, because as much as he wanted to convince himself that he wasn’t self-aware of his image, those feelings could potentially strip himself off of his cool guy status.

Reiner had come to realize that such strange feeling often occurred caused by the sight of you.

It could be anything. Things so mundane, so simple. Like the way you twisted the pen in your fingers, the way you squinted your eyes at the blackboard during a lecture, and how you hastily scribbled things on your leather-bound notebook.

Or maybe it’s the way you sighed deliberately loud when someone uttered a dumb, sexist remark in class with no trace of shame, after they tried to debate your sound, well-researched opinion, and how you’d resolved it with a sarcasm that could disintegrate a man’s ego. Reiner sat on the corner of the classroom, disguising his chuckle by clearing his throat, finally coming to experience what they had called butterflies-in-your-stomach all along.

At that point he had found himself painfully and helplessly in love with you.

He was well-aware of how different the two of you were. Reiner was the athlete, admitted to the uni through football scholarship, and you were the hard-working academician that mostly kept to yourself – hard to approach, hard to tame. Reiner hated how stereotypical he was – tall, buff, blonde, jock, with cheerleader exes and a DM full of thirst trap from his assembly of admirers. Reiner once wished he was anything but a cookie-cutter of everything you had been appalled of.

Reiner could feel every ounce of confidence he had ever had shriveled around your presence. It’s the way the two of you almost collided to each other at the campus hallway, and the way you threw an acknowledging, formal smile at him before striding away that made his heart ached. He wished you’d run to him and shriek his name with affection, but Reiner realized you were not one of his cheerleader exes, and not that he wanted you to be one. You were an anomaly he had yet to understand. A misplaced figure sticking out of his history of penchant for conformity.

“I really like you.” one day he finally said. Never had he been weak on the knees for a confession to any girl before, but this one occurrence? He did.

He didn’t know how he mustered the courage, but after hours, days and weeks he had spent trying to know you – learning your favorite song, accompanying you for book hunting, baking your favorite muffins, texting you good morning and good night – he finally got you alone, in the campus library, only five minutes before closing time.

You laughed at first, because the confession sounded ridiculous to you. The last thing you needed was a horde of girls sending you anonymous hate comments on Insta because you took the campus’ most eligible hunk off of the market. But he didn’t laugh along, and that was when realization hit you.

“So, is that why you’ve been following me around?”

Reiner furrowed his thin, almost non-existent brow, “What do you think?”

“I thought you were just bored with your jock friends,” you scoffed, “because you know, I’d be bored out of my ears too if all I ever heard all day is insecure men constantly praising themselves.” you glanced at Reiner, trying to discover even the slightest amusement on his hardened face to no avail.

“Reiner, are you serious?”

He sighed, couldn’t believe his ears. The first time ever Reiner caught you being stupid beyond recognition, “For the millionth times, yes.”

“You’ve only said it once, though.”

“For fuck’s sake,” the jock grunted, but there was a slight smile arose from his face, “I like you, really much. Times eight hundred ninety-eight thousand.”

“And?”

“So would you be my girlfriend?”

And you said yes, after three minutes of hesitation, you said yes. With a laughter. Because the absurdity of you being with someone like Reiner was lurid. Yet still, you were in no capacity to lie when his good morning text had been the most unsubstantiated text you looked forward to every day.

You wondered why? It’s just text. But maybe, you tried to convince yourself, it’s because of the effort he put, of trying to wake earlier before you every morning although he was hardly a morning person. Or it’s the way he listened to your kind of music although he was practically tone deaf, and returned to you the next week with his analysis on why your favorite band’s first album was their masterpiece and that sadly they never outdid it with any of their following albums.

And maybe, it’s the sight of the topless Reiner in the football field, after a home match. The way he was quick to run to the side of the field with his Captain instinct, lurching himself towards the start of a brawl between the two teams’ players, heated by animosity over the match result. Reiner was strong enough to break at least ten muscular jocks apart from throwing punches at each other, and with his deep, stern, authoritative voice, he commanded them to “Stop it. Fuck off.” You remembered immediately leaving the bleachers and found the nearest toilet because you needed to breathe and that you felt things simmering in your nether area. You never felt like that before to any of your exes.

Reiner knew the mutual pining between the two of you was evident, and so he was left puzzled when you said, “But please don’t tell anyone yet.” He asked why, but you only shrugged your shoulder with an answer that gave very little explanation, “I just don’t feel like having people talk about us.”

Reiner trusted you, because at first, he thought it was for modesty, you were not a fan of the limelight, evidently. Or it’s for practical reason, you don’t want to be burdened by society’s expectation on how two adults in relationship should be. Reiner could make 1,000 excuses for you that would justify your terms and conditions, so he went with what you wanted, because he was so hopelessly into you.

Nonetheless, still he enjoyed holding your hand in the dark alley of the campus – away from all the prying eyes, or the girls that’d giggle walking past the beautiful giant. Still he liked to have you sleeping naked in his embrace, making lazy circles with his calloused digits on your small back, at the emptiness of his dorm room when his roommate was home early for Christmas. Still he enjoyed teasing you at unassuming place, at the quiet library, studying together in silence for the upcoming exams, he’d be sitting next to you, leaning to his chair and slithered his right hand underneath your sweatshirt, to playfully and quickly unclasped your bra, only for you to smack his stomach in annoyance. He liked you, and he liked how you scurried to the restroom to fix your bra. He liked to be with you, no matter in silence or in noise.

However, after six months, questions started to throb incessantly inside Reiner’s mind. Even after all the time you had spent together, why must still he go alone to the football team soiree? Why would you let his team mate thought that Reiner was single, and promised him chances with girls, left and right? Why were you unfazed to see the girls sliding into his DMs? And when you put on that tight, backless black dress on New Year’s Eve, why would you put it for your friends’ party, and not for his eyes only? Why would you color your lips with the blood red Chanel lipstick Reiner gave you, and smile at other people that’s not him?

Reiner could not make sense of you. He pondered, he wondered and he became jealous. He’d look at you intently and see whether there was any trace of other man on you that he had not recognized? He’d become quiet and his friends thought he had gotten sensitive over nothing. The captain had become agitated, irritable and his head was hardly in the game – all with seemingly no reason.

Reiner began to think that he knew the reason why. He thought it’s the boy you’d met at the Academic Writing class, with stupid name and equally stupid undercut. Porco Galliard, you said his name was. In an instance his name had become a staple in your conversation. When Reiner asked you out for a dinner, it’d be like, “Ah sorry babe, I got this assignment with Porco.” A trip to the zoo? “You know, Porco have this funny experience with apes.” A night out in his dorm? By the point Reiner had a half-boner forming already seeing you in your lounge shorts, you’d be giggling and stayed busy with your phone. Reiner asked, “What’s so funny, babe?”

“What’s so funny, babe?” he asked again, because you didn’t seem to hear the first time he asked you. Distracted, you showed a stupid meme on your phone, “Porco sent me this.”

Porco here, Porco there. Reiner was sick of hearing that dumb name.

He had tried to look up for his background, and he hated to find that all that ever came up about him were amicable. His friends knew him, said he was chill, said he was smart as fuck, said he had a cool family, said he turned down a track and field scholarship for law school. Porco Galliard is a cool dude, they all said.

At certain point Reiner had grown to be furious, and the more your text messages became sparse or the more you spent your Saturday nights without him, the more he set his mind to do something about the two of you. He had become so sick of hiding and he wanted the whole world to know that you were his. Especially that guy with a name that sounded like her mother hated giving birth to him.

So came that day. You hadn’t been replying to his texts since morning, and only did so after chains of messages he left.

[you | 11.35] oh my god reiner!!! I’M SO SORRY, i left my phone uncharged all morning. i’m heading to cafeteria rn, it’s muffin tuesday 😵👅

[reiner | 06.37] good morning baby

[reiner | 07.49] you awake now?

[reiner | 08.15] sleepyhead 😪💤 see you today pretty

[reiner | 10.23] i got practice today until late. see you tonight? my room?

[reiner | 10.55] are you in class rn?

[reiner | 11.36] wanna go together?

[you | 11.45] haha noo a lot of people there

[reiner | 11.45] who r u going with?

[you | 11.55] with pockooo haha we got class together after lunch

Pocko. Is that an endearing term you came up with for the jizzhead? Reiner thought, pissed off beyond compare. He paced restlessly in his room, trying to figure out what did Porco have that he didn’t have? Thinking of how his undercut made his head looked way bigger for his neck, just like sperm; and it made Reiner mad angry. “Fuck you, Jizzhead”, he hissed, kicking the pile of dirty laundry on his dorm room.

The cafeteria was bustling busy when you arrived with Porco. The two of you immediately joined the line for lunch and the muffin. The man was busy babbling about yet another stupid thing that he had done back in high school, but your mind was darted on the muffins that were sold off fast. You looked around and almost everyone you disliked were present – mostly Reiner’s jock friends and their girlfriends. The prospect of one day going public with Reiner and having to spare days in your life to socialize with these loud people made you squirm. Not that you were completely against it, you were just… enormously reluctant to do so. Also, what would they say about you? You barely existed for them, evident by how they just greeted Porco with huge affection, yet pretended like you were invisible despite the fact that you were talking and standing close to him.

Your mind was elsewhere, between eyeing the muffin and managing your detest towards the it crowd, you weren’t even listening to the small talk that Porco was having with some of the jocks, until the mention of your name spilled out of Porco’s mouth, “Hey, have you guys known ___ before?”

You blinked with surprise, and they looked at you unenthusiastically, “Ummm, no?” one of them said.

Porco stared at them in disbelief, as if not knowing you was a big sin, “Get to know then! She’s cool, she’s really into—” but even before Porco could finish his words, they averted their attention elsewhere, pulling out their phone like it was the most important thing in the world, and talked amongst themselves. How fitting, because the first thing they talked about as an excuse for ignoring you was to talk about Reiner, “The captain’s been grumpy. Haha. That man. What’s up with him?” You cringed, because you knew there was no weight in talking about Reiner that must be done at that time, that moment. They just wanted a reason not to be roped into talking to you, obviously because you didn’t think you were cool enough or some other shit excuse only them and their bobbleheads understand. So, conveniently throwing out Reiner’s name was an effective way to basically say ‘haha look at us talking about the coolest guy in the campus so you know we’re in this cool clique unlike you’. You read them too well. You couldn’t even be amused anymore.

Porco looked embarrassed, he smiled at you awkwardly and stayed silent, until one of the girls threw their attention back to the man dirty blond undercut, “Anyway, Porco, do you know Reiner?”

“Ah, I haven’t had the chance to.”

The girl frowned rather dramatically, “Oh my god, we all should totally hang out together with Reiner, right? He’s like—super cool.” her question was obviously in exclusion of you. You rolled your eyes and turned away to see new text from Reiner appearing.

[reiner | 12.15] im going there

[you | 12.16] convenient. right in time. your cool friends are all here and you can sit with them and be cool with them or whatever I guess haha

You immediately pulled your phone to your chest; you could feel your heart thumping. Is this it? Is this it? The question became menacing in your head, because you were not sure on what Reiner was planning to do. The line to the muffin was still far away, and it would be stupid to run away.

[reiner | 12.17] idgaf about em

[reiner | 12.19] i want u

You could hear the girls were still talking about Reiner. Reiner this, Reiner that. You were nowhere to lie that you could feel your chest heat up with annoyance. The way their squeaking voice praised Reiner’s body, Reiner’s personality, Reiner’s wit. For the first time, you knew you were experiencing jealousy, vibrant and up-close.

“You know what? One time, Reiner thought that the way I did my hair was so cute that he wanted—”

Just in time, one of the boys raised his voice, “Oi Reiner!” and in unison the jocks erupted, welcoming his arrival like they were in some goddamn party.

You could see Reiner walking towards the line you were in, his face was hardened and his walk was swift. You immediately turned away to look at the opposite direction, not wanting to see him.

“Yooo Reiner! Where have you been? We’ve missed you dude,” one of them said. You cringed at how they all tried so hard to sound cool, “have you met Porco, by the way? And his friend—”

“—hey, what’s her name again?” one of the girls chimed in, asking Porco instead of asking you directly, as if you were not there. At that point, Reiner was standing not too far behind you, and you pretended like you were too busy with your phone, hoping the floor would engulf you instead.

“Is she like, deaf or something?” the girl whispered to Porco with a jeer, before getting back to Reiner, “So, Rei, I’ve got this party—”

“—yo Capt, do you know that—”

“—have you heard about the news, dude? Like—”

The way all these people tried to suck up to Reiner was so pathetic and incessant, they all chirped like hungry birds all in a matter of couple of seconds. You hated them and you hated the situation.

“—come on, Capt, that would be awesome—”

“—oh my gosh, Rei—”

“—you must try it, Rei—"

“Shut the fuck up,” Reiner said. Rather abruptly. His voice was cold and deep, like he couldn’t give a damn in this world about any of them. Surprised, they all dropped quiet in an instance. You looked over your back at him. Reiner was staring at you, and at you alone, not even at the Jizzhead he had grown to hate so much, “you all talk too fucking much.”

You snorted, suppressing a laughter to escape from your mouth. Clearly, it was too audible, that the girls were now looking at you with complete disdain.

“Babe,” Reiner said, staring at you, while you were still facing the opposite direction, “babe, what are you doing with this Jizzhead here? I can bake you muffins remember? If you want it so much.”

Your surrounding fell deep in silence. Everyone was either confused or surprised. Murmur started to sweep over the crowd, most audible was: ‘Who is Jizzhead?’

You scoffed, finally turning your back, although still closing your mouth trying to prevent the laughter and the embarrassment to display itself.

“What the hell?” one of the girls asked in dismay, obviously she was one of the girls sliding into Reiner’s DM and sending him bikini photos by the pretense of ‘Rei, you should join us for summer holiday!’ when all she wanted to do was to show her tits.

“Shut up,” Reiner said to her, baffling the girl to complete silence, “and stop sending me your beach photos. They’re ugly.”

An uproar of restraint laughter was heard throughout the cafeteria.

“Babe,” Reiner said again, this time extending his arms toward you, gesturing for you to come closer, “now you know why I need you, right? My friends are fucking whack.”

Few laughter was starting to break. Yet Reiner was unfazed.

“Reiner, what—”

“—yo dude, what the hell?

“—who is she?”

“—are they dating?”

“And listen here, you hag,” Reiner now turned his attention to the girl who called you deaf, “she’s got a name. Her name is ___, and she’s my fucking girlfriend.”

Embarrassed yet amused, you finally let out a small chuckle, “Reiner, please you’re humiliating me.”

“Whatever,” he shrugged off. Reiner now turned his attention to Porco, “and listen here you, Jizzhead. You can be nice to her but keep in your fucking mind, she’s mine.”

Without hesitation, Reiner pulled your hand and yanked you closer to him. You stared at him for a second, eyes broadened and heart thumping, “Reiner, what are you gonna do—”

“—shut up.” he said, cupping your face with his gigantic hands, and pulled your face roughly to him, before landing his dry, chapped lips to yours. He had gone sick of pretending, and doing things in secret. So there Reiner Braun was, hungrily, longingly, sloppily devouring your lips with his mouth, so deep, so thirsty of your taste. He finally showed the world who the true owner of his heart was. You.

#reiner x reader #reiner x you #reiner braun #attack on titan reiner braun #porco galliard #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #reiner fluff #attack on titan #aot fluff

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wonlouvre · 4 years ago

Text

pairing: doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc genre: modern royalty, arranged marriage, fluff and angst word count: 3.7k WARNINGS: hospital setting, mentions of surgery/operation, blood, violence

a/n: so, this is it guys. the final part of ifliys :( i would like to extend my sincere thank yous to each and everyone who have read, liked, commented and shared this series. this is the very first fanfic i was able to finish/complete because of the support, love and motivation you all gave as i wrote this. don’t worry! there is an epilogue and i will announce what i have in store for them in the near future. in the meantime, this is part ten. thank you very much!

ten: moonlight | masterlist

The Queen is talkative. That’s one of the many quirks she has that you noticed when you were growing up. It’s not the uncomfortable or annoying kind of talkative. You really don’t know how to exactly put it, but she’s talkative in an elegant and easy-going way. One time, she decided to take a walk on a particularly busy street with only one member of the security detail assigned to tail her a few meters behind. She told you the whole story, excitedly. She was casually strolling and asking typical questions like what time is it to some vendors, passersby and the like. She even held a conversation about olive oil that lasted a good twenty minutes until the stranger she was talking to recognized who she was. You can tell that she had a blast as she laughed all through the evening.

Spending time with her gradually dwindled because of your job paired with your official duties as the Crowned Princess. But when opportunity arises, you make sure to make it worth the wait. Conversations are easy with her because she’s trustworthy and most importantly, she’s your mother. She usually asks you random, yet unexpectedly relevant questions whenever the two of you share a cup of coffee or tea or when you go shopping and even now is no different, as you’re about to choose the right fabric for your wedding dress.

“Describe the person that brings the best out of you.”

Ah, here we go. Your mother is surely not distracting you but her intent stares as she props her arm against the armrest of the white couch she’s sitting on is definitely pulling you away from the matter at hand. The look on your eyes is telling her really? and she fires back with an expecting one telling you a silent, “well? Come on. Tell me.”

You snort and shake your head, bringing your attention back to the table. You’re not denying your mother an answer because you know who to describe. It’s not that hard to figure out and you know she’s smart enough to know.

Jeon Wonwoo.

“How do you want me to describe? Personality or physical features?” You ask back and humor her as you fiddle with one lace material.

“Both,” she challenges with a mischievous grin and you’re not one to back down.

“Well, the person is quite tall and sharp in terms of physical features,” you start, doing your best to describe him implicitly. “Has a way with words, but they are all genuine and honest.”

Unbeknownst to you, your mother’s fond smile confirms your assumption that she is smart and that she knows who you’re talking about. But she presses on, loving how you describe this mysterious person.

“What about those features then? How do they help you?”

You thought for a moment and when the right words came to mind, you didn’t hesitate to say, “They inspire me to do and be better not only for myself but for everyone else. Mostly it’s their genuineness and honesty that inspires me.”

You and your mother laugh together at your last sentence.

It’s true though. After witnessing Wonwoo in the light of his Kingdom, something tugged at your heartstrings. You don’t exactly remember when, maybe it was around high school, but you remember adamantly telling your friends that you would want to be with someone that will bring the best out in you. Someone that can fuel your desire to be of service for the greater good. It sounds awfully used too often and you’re sure you’re not the only one who thinks this way, but as you have already said, it’s the truth.

Despite the circumstances, you found that someone. You found Wonwoo.

A few seconds later, Jeongyeon comes in with a knock and announces, “Your Majesty, Prince Wonwoo has arrived.”

Your eyes spring up at the name, distracted once again. And when you see the “tall” and “sharp” Prince, you’re quick to your feet and run towards him. He stumbles a little when you jump at him in a tight hug, arms clinging around his neck. Nonetheless, he smiles and welcomes your enthusiastic embrace with a soft smooch on the side of your head.

“Wait,” you abruptly pull away. “You’re not supposed to be here, though.”

Wonwoo acts dumb, tilting his head to the side. “What do you mean? Her Majesty invited me to be here.”

“Calm down, Y/N,” you hear the culprit say behind your back as she stands up to greet her future son-in-law. “There’s no dress yet. It’s okay for him to be here.”

You subtly roll your eyes. You’re not one to be superficial but if there were a dress already, she’d take her words back. You return your arms back to Wonwoo’s waist and lean your chin against his chest, your lips pulling into a pout. He leans down to meet your lips with a quick peck but your mother was quicker to push you aside and to take her turn in giving him a hug.

Your jaw drops and your pout is exchanged with a scowl.

Wonwoo tries his best to hold his laughter but to no avail, fails as he formally greets the Queen. “Good afternoon, Your Majesty.”

“Always good to see you, my Prince,” the Queen replies and gently pats his cheek. “And now that you’re here, I can finally take my leave.”

“Leave? We haven’t even picked a fabric yet,” you remind her and stand in between them.

“Honey, you have been going back and forth since nine in the morning,” she retaliates and walks back to the couch to pick her bag up. “Let’s schedule for another day. Unless you want Wonwoo to leave and we continue.”

Your stance immediately takes a hundred eighty degree turn. “You know what, you’re right. Let’s clear Saturday next week and we’ll take it from there.”

“I thought so.”

With a knowing wink, the Queen takes off.

That memory was from about three weeks ago after your visit and vacation at Wonwoo’s Kingdom. Wedding planning was back and the two of you went your separate ways for the time being to prepare your respective attire and accessories. Wonwoo didn’t know you had that conversation with the Queen not until she told him here at the hospital where you lie unconscious and fighting for your life.

The Royal Hospital was once again swarmed with a plethora of men in black suits because the Crowned Princess of the Kingdom has been shot twice, one on her shoulder and another on her left leg. It was a failed attempt in assassinating the King but Kim Mingyu took the opportunity to target your vulnerability and let his men shoot you instead as if it was his plan b. Kim Mingyu, whom he never desires to meet, is finally in police custody. He didn’t try to elude his impending arrest. In fact, he knew he would get arrested. He just wanted to toy with people until he couldn’t anymore.

Wonwoo has no words to spare to describe him and seeing his face and hearing his name everywhere and everytime is just making his blood boil.

The Queen has never left the hospital from the moment she arrived while you were undergoing operation up to being placed in a private room. She was calm when Wonwoo stood up from the bench to respectfully address her. She just nodded her head when he couldn’t say a word without his lips trembling and enveloped him in a warm hug as he cried on her shoulder.

She told him that the two of you haven’t spoken since your father’s arrest and it has been unbearably painful and challenging. She acknowledges how terrible and neglecting she has been as a mother when she knows how absolutely difficult this is for you. It’s even more heartbreaking because you never once complained. Instead you respected her silence and distance. She regrets her absence and seeing you lying on a bed, looking so cold and fragile is making her world completely fall apart.

“Wonwoo, I’m so sorry that this happened,” the Queen solemnly says and holds his hand tightly. “The Kingdom promises that everyone involved will be held accountable.”

Wonwoo nods. “I understand, Your Majesty. Our Kingdom will do so as well.”

“I also want you to know that Y/N never wanted to end the engagement,” she adds. “She was just afraid that someone like her doesn’t deserve to receive your love.”

Wonwoo didn’t know that you looked up to him. If anyone should be admired, it should be you because you were ready to drop everything just to uphold justice. It’s been three days after the operation and you still haven’t opened your eyes. The operation was successful. No artery nor major organs were damaged, but you did lose a lot of blood. Just like the Queen, Wonwoo has been by your side, patiently waiting. Right now despite your stable condition, he still feels like dying.

The love of his life almost died before his eyes.

Wonwoo rests his head on the small space beside your arm, similar to the first time he took care of you a few months back. He gazes at your peaceful face, silently begging for you to wake up. He wants to kiss, hear and hug you again. He wants to be with you again.

“Wonwoo.”

He sits up straight at the sound of his name and finds the Queen sadly smiling at him.

“How about you go back to your apartment for today?” She suggests, taking the seat on your other side. “Take a long shower and have some shut eye? Hmmm?”

Wonwoo bites his bottom lip, hesitant to leave and not have his eyes on you. He badly wants to stay and be here when you finally wake up. But the Queen is right. You’re safe now so he has nothing to worry about anymore.

Slowly, he stands up from the chair he’s been sitting on for who knows how long. He clasps his one hand around yours while the other sweeps the hair that’s covering your forehead and lands a gentle kiss there. You’re starting to warm up and that’s a relief.

He talks to you every single day, hoping you’d hear his voice. For now, he’ll keep it to himself.

I love you.

Later in the evening, you find your mother quietly dozing off, her head swaying from left to right and vice versa as she remains upright on the couch placed near the wall. You blink your eyes and adapt to the sudden brightness greeting your senses. You try to move your head and take in your surroundings and after a few minutes of contemplating, you recognize where you’re at and remember everything.

Dad.

Your violent gasp immediately roused your mother from her sleep and seeing you struggling to sit made her jolt up and hurry beside you.

“Darling,” she calls and holds your thrashing arms down, worried that you’d worsen your wounds. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Dad,” you voice out against the dryness of your throat. “Mom, where’s dad?”

“He’s okay too.” You can see the tears welling up on her eyes as she caresses your hair and gently pulls you in a hug. “He’s safe.”

Together, you shed the tears of anguish that you have been holding back for so long.

The King couldn’t be here because the court didn’t allow his appeal to accompany nor visit you even just for a day. He couldn’t even carry his daughter’s body to the ambulance because he was handcuffed and heavily guarded. He couldn’t even protect his daughter from the harmful consequences of his mistakes. Your mother told you that he desperately wants to be by your side and you do know that. You’re way past his inability to be here and that’s none of your concern anymore. As long as he is safe, you’re more than content.

The trial has been rescheduled for next week and your father has to be detained until then. You’ll try to visit him again once you’re discharged and together with that, you’d also find the strength to accompany him at his trial.

Your mother was firm on staying and insisting that she’s fine when you tried to urge her to go home, but you can clearly tell how tired she is from the lack of sleep so you didn’t let her win. It’s already late in the night when she finally gave in. Your mother kisses your cheek one last time after the doctor assessed your condition. Jeongyeon would stick around for the evening in her stead. Poor girl cried so much the moment she saw you widely awake.

Once it’s only the two of you left, Jeongyeon helped you sit on a wheelchair and wheeled you next to the window before she left to grab some extra bottled water. You can’t stand properly yet because of the wound on your leg so a wheelchair is necessary if you want to be mobile. You’re starting to feel the back pain after lying down for so long, you need to move. The doctor was a bit apprehensive about allowing you to leave your bed, but gave in when you promised to stay inside the room.

The moon, shining in all its glory, up in the dark sky looked so enticing, you had to take a closer look. The three days went by so fast and running through all that ensued leaves a sickening sensation down to your stomach. You shake your head, not wanting to relive the frightening memories.

Your attention goes back to the moon and one person comes to mind.

It makes you selfishly wonder if he ever visited once or asked and worried about you as you bring your hand up to your neck. When you don’t feel the lifebuoy pendant, your heart skips a beat. You then looked down to your hand, your engagement ring is also not on your finger. You frown, growing upset. They could have removed it, but it should be back to you by now. You looked around the room, hoping to find your precious gems within reach. Just in time before you could wheel yourself around to search for them, you hear the door open.

“Hey Jeongyeon, have you seen my necklace and ring?” You ask to the void as you tilt your head back to the moon.

When you don’t hear any answer other than the sound of heavy breathing, you remove your gaze from the window to see who came in if it’s not your assistant. To your surprise it’s no other than,

“Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo didn’t keep count of the exact times, but he knows how long and how much he begged just to hear your voice call his name once again. He didn’t even have the chance to change from his sweatpants and sleeveless shirt when he received the call from Soonyoung (whom Jeongyeon told to). Honestly? He didn’t bother at all because he just wanted to be right here at this moment.

To be with you.

He takes slow steps as he calms his breathing. Meanwhile, you remained seated and let him come to you. You’d run to him just like you did back then, but your leg wouldn’t appreciate that.

It felt like forever for Wonwoo to get to you. But when he finally drops on the floor and lightly rests his head on your lap, there’s no reason for him to complain anymore.

Your tears fall again for the nth time tonight. You caress his wet locks, probably from the mixture of his shower and sweat. He cries too because you can feel it seeping against the pants you’re wearing. He wraps his arms around your lap, careful from crashing his weight. You, on the other hand, bend your head down to kiss the crown of his head.

Both of your hearts are shouting, finally.

The beautiful moonlight shines on the two of you as you both silently settle down there for a moment, not giving a care in the world because this is just what you’ve been yearning for and you’re not allowing anyone nor anything to steal this away ever again.

Your long face doesn’t go unnoticed by Wonwoo and he knows why you’re pulling it against him. But no, he is not falling for it. Instead he ignores your silent plea and continues tucking you back on the bed. You glance up at him and try to win him again with your attempt at puppy dog eyes and when he doesn’t, you give up.

“You know that this bed is too small to fit two bodies, Y/N,” he states the obvious and drags a chair to sit on. “I know you’re smart enough to see that.”

You huff and pull the covers closer to your chin. If it wasn’t for the wound on your shoulder, you’d turn your back against him.

Wonwoo just rolls his eyes at your antics and holds your hand under the warm blanket.

After your short reunion, Wonwoo decided to get you back to your bed because it was nearing one o’clock in the morning. You haven’t brought up what happened and it’s alright because you still have another chance to do so. Hopefully.

“I’m sorry, Wonwoo,” you whisper under your breath but his ears can hear your words.

He nods and kisses the back of your hand. “I know, baby. It’s not your fault.”

Baby.

You never use pet names or terms of endearment and hearing him say it for the first time almost made you faint. It’s an exaggeration but you’re weak at the moment and anything that flusters your heart can potentially weaken your whole body.

Wonwoo then brings something out from his pockets and your eyes brighten at the sight of the necklace he gave you. He chuckles when he sees your excited expression and stands up. His fingers tenderly graze the skin of your neck when he puts it back to where it rightfully belongs.

“I thought I lost it,” you say, holding the pendant between your fingers.

He sits back down and what he mutters next makes you feel a twinge of guilt.

“I thought I lost you.”

You sigh and coax him to you, grasping the hand enclosed to yours. “Come here.”

This time you let him take the small space on your bed. You sit up as well so that you can reach his height. He helps you and once you’re comfortably situated, you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head on his chest.

Wonwoo smiles at your affection and lets his hand smooth against your hair. You have always been brave when it comes to touching him and he’ll never forget how you kissed him on the lips first. He’s so glad and relieved you’re finally awake. He doesn’t think he can go on for another day without you. And now that you’re holding each other like this, he wishes for this night to never end.

“I’ll probably not inherit the throne,” you say against his shirt. “I don’t think your family would want you to marry an abolished monarch.”

Wonwoo’s hand drops and he breathes out a disappointed sigh. He is not having this conversation with you right now. Why must you ruin the moment?

When you don’t feel his hand against you anymore, you look up and steal a kiss under his chin. However, that doesn’t suffice because he’s still upset and it’s evident on the frown adorning his handsome face.

“But I realized I love you, so if it means I have to beg all the way to their Majesties for your hand then—”

Wonwoo doesn’t let you continue and shuts you up with a searing kiss. He softly squeezes your cheeks with one of his hands, almost as if commanding you to pucker your lips. Your eyes widened in surprise but when he put his other hand at the side of your neck, you surrendered.

It’s no secret that you and Wonwoo kiss. Oftentimes they’re just quick brushes, but sometimes they get a little bit more intense, deeper. You won’t get into detail though, because that’s a story to tell for some other time.

For now, you eagerly meet Wonwoo’s passion as he lays you back down on the bed, of course with caution. He doesn’t fully drop his weight on top of you, one arm carrying his upper body while the other gingerly cupping one side of your face.

His chest is firm and his shoulder broad as you grip your hands on them and continue kissing him. You should be asleep by now because you are still recovering. But Wonwoo is a doctor himself, right? So if he took the initiative to kiss you until sunrise, then it must be alright.

Okay, maybe it’s wrong to mock his profession like that. But, you’re just grateful to kiss him like this again. Because the last time you shared one, tears were streaming down your face and you two were on the verge of breaking up.

“I should really put you to sleep now,” Wonwoo whispers against your lips, breathless.

You hold your laughter, still basking in his taste. When you open your eyes, Wonwoo is already hoisting himself back up. Your lips draw into a pout again and the cause of it just rolls his eyes.

“I promise there will be more, but for now rest, okay?” He pinches your cheek lightly and sits back on the chair.

“You can take the couch,” you tell him.

“Sleep, Y/N.”

You no longer defy and close your eyes.

You remember the first time he commanded you those words and looking back, they are all fond memories of your then developing relationship. There were many questions when you and Wonwoo got along so well and so fast. There were many doubts and insecurities. The two of you shared those in silence, which could have endangered your hearts. However, even though your relationship was shaken and tested, the two of you persevered.

For you, Wonwoo persevered and words and actions are not enough to thank him. You couldn’t have overcome this without his support and patience. So from now on, against all odds, you’ll do exactly the same.

#seventeen #wonwoo #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo scenario #seventeen scenarios #seventeen scenario #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo imagine #seventeen imagines #seventeen imagine #wonwoo fanfic #seventin fanfic #seventeen fluff #wonwoo fluff #fic: ifliys

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rosiehunterwolf · 3 years ago

Text

stuck with you (through bright and blue)

Prompts: Protective

Word Count: 4,400

Characters: The squad

Timeline: Pre-movie movie!verse

Trigger Warnings: Manipulation, Toxic Friendship

Summary: Kai only wants two things: to protect Lloyd, and to give him the best birthday ever. Unfortunately, Lloyd seems hell-bent on making that as difficult as possible. Kai’s always prided himself on achieving the impossible, but dealing with human emotions is much more complicated than beating up Garmadon’s generals or shooting enemies with fire, as he quickly learns. Movie!verse

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Tumblr work under the cut

“Woah, it looks like a massacre in here.”

At the sound of Cole’s voice, Kai, Jay, Lloyd, and Zane looked up from the map they had sprawled out across the table. Red pen was everywhere, circling different buildings and connecting them with lines.

“We’re having trouble finding a venue for Lloyd’s party,” Zane explained.

Nya rolled her eyes. “It’s not that hard! Just pick somewhere!” She held a hand out, shaking her phone. “We have five days until his birthday. Most places require at least that many to book a reservation. If we don’t decide today, we’ll have nowhere to go.”

“We can’t just pick anywhere,” Kai insisted. “It has to be perfect!”

“Why don’t we just go to the arcade?”

“It’s always so busy there.”

“It’s a Wednesday night! How many people are going to be there?”

“Trust me,” Jay said, “It’s still busy. It always is.”

Cole peered at the map. “Why’d you cross off the movie theater? Isn’t there a new Starfarer movie Lloyd’s been wanting to see?”

Kai shook his head. “Tickets sold out in like five hours. By the time school was over and we got over there, they were all gone.”

Jay frowned, running his fingers along one of the major streets. “What’s your favorite restaurant, Lloyd?”

“A restaurant? Are you serious?” Cole laughed. “We’d get kicked out in ten minutes.”

“Why can’t we just do it at my place?” Lloyd murmured. “I don’t need anything big deal.”

Kai frowned. “Your apartment isn’t that big, Lloyd. And I don’t want to bother your mom with all the decorations and stuff.”

Lloyd shrugged, looking down. “It doesn’t need to be big.”

“If you really want something simple,” Nya said, “why don’t we just do it at the warehouse? It’ll just be us, but there’s lots of space.”

Zane nodded. “That space would suffice. We would just have to ask Master Wu.”

“That is, if you’re certain that’s what you want.” Nya looked at Lloyd closely. “You sure you don’t want to do anything else?”

Lloyd nodded.

“Positive, bud?” Kai pushed. “Because it’s your birthday. We don’t mind at all.”

“I’m fine,” Lloyd insisted, getting to his feet. “It’s just another day on the calendar. Don’t make such a big fuss.”

The ninja fell silent.

“Lloyd,” Nya murmured, “it is a big deal to us.”

“Sorry. I’m just tired. And I’ve got homework. I should go.”

“Lloyd, wait-”

The green ninja pulled away from Kai’s outstretched hand. “I’m fine, Kai. I just have to go. Call me if you need anything.”

---

When they went back to school on Monday, their teachers loaded them with assignments, and Kai didn’t have a spare minute to talk to Lloyd in their shared classes. He couldn’t even talk at lunch because Lloyd had to make up a test. He kept his eyes peeled for his friend every time he was in the hallways, but if there was one thing Lloyd was good at, it was not being seen.

At the end of the school day, Nya texted him to meet up near their lockers. He got there and found her huddled around her locker with Cole, Jay, and Zane.

Kai walked over to them. “What’s going on? Where’s Lloyd?”

“He said he’d catch up with us later, which is why now is the perfect time for party preparation,” Jay said, gesturing towards Nya, who had a fiercely determined look on her face and was tightly clutching a clipboard. “Apparently she’s been waiting her whole life for this.”

“Alright.” Nya looked up from her clipboard. “I’ve already got streamers and gift wrap at home. What about you guys?”

“I’ve got a banner ordered with his name on it,” Cole said. “And of course, the shark tablecloths-”

Jay blinked. “Sharks?”

“Yeah. He loves sharks.”

“No, no, no, you’ve got it all wrong! We’re getting the dragon ones! He loves dragons!”

“Well, yeah, duh, but he’d obviously like the shark one better.”

“Are you kidding? Sharks would remind him of his dad’s mechs!” “Yeah, well, dragons remind him of his mech, which also reminds him of fighting his dad.”

“Totally not the same, plus dragons are way cooler-”

“Okay, we’re going with the Starfarer ones, then,” Nya grumbled. “What about balloons? Who’s covering-”

“I have balloons,” Zane interrupted. “Two hundred and seventy-five of them.”

They gawked at him.

“Zane… why do you have so many balloons just lying around?” Jay asked.

“They are new! In the package! I can blow them up for Lloyd’s birthday party-”

“Shhhhh!” Four pairs of hands immediately pushed over his mouth, silencing him, even though they were the only ones in the very empty hallway.

“No one can find out,” Cole insisted. “This is Lloyd’s special day. We’re not about to let anyone ruin it.”

“Okay, so Zane’s got the balloons.” Nya ticked another item off the list. “What about the cake? I have most of the ingredients to make one at home, but I’m completely lacking the baking skills.”

Cole nodded. “I can bake a cake. What’s his favorite kind?”

“Lloyd likes that Funfetti one,” Kai murmured.

Cole’s nose wrinkled. “I’m not baking a box mix. I can get him the rainbow sprinkles, though, and make a homemade one.”

“Okay, sounds good. Jay, could you pick up some confetti before his birthday? And Zane, we need some fun paper plates.”

“Zane, you should get shark ones.”

“No, dragons!” “Zane will pick out whichever plates he likes,” Nya snapped.

“What about gifts?” Jay asked. “What are you guys getting?”

“I’m not telling you,” Nya yelped. “I have the best gift ever and I don’t want you stealing any ideas.”

“I’ve been setting aside pieces of my allowance for a month,” Cole grinned. “It’s gonna be sweet.”

Jay blinked at him expectantly, and Cole smirked. “I’m not telling you, either, blabbermouth.”

“Blabbermouth?” he yelped. “I can keep secrets perfectly fine, thank you.”

“Oh yeah? What about that time you nearly gave away all of our ninja identities?”

“Or-” Zane added, “when he and Lloyd were working on those surprise mech upgrades and he accidentally said something in front of Kai and Nya?”

“Oh, remember when he spoiled the finale of Cole’s favorite show?” Nya grinned. “Cole was pissed.”

“Okay, okay, so there were a few times,” Jay spluttered. “But those were a while ago! I have many more secrets that I have kept than I haven’t.”

Cole crossed his arms, smirking. “Name one.”

“Well, there was that one time, where I- hey!” He stopped, glaring at Cole. “You’re trying to trick me into telling you a secret!”

“And it very nearly worked. So no. You can’t know.”

Nya shrugged. “Sorry, Jay. He’s right. When you have a secret, you get nervous. And when you’re nervous, you talk. A lot. It would only be a matter of time before you spilled everything to Lloyd.”

“Fine,” Jay muttered. “Keep your secrets.”

Kai jumped slightly as Nya elbowed him, and she frowned. “You okay? You’ve been really quiet.”

Kai shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Is it just me, or… did Lloyd seem like he doesn’t really want a birthday party?”

The others went quiet.

“We’re not going to not give him a party,” Nya insisted. “You know how he gets. He never wants anyone to make a fuss.” Her brow furrowed. “It’s like he still can’t get it into his skull that we care about him.”

“I mean, of course I want to, it’s just… we can’t force him to do anything he doesn’t want.” Kai bit his lip. “It’s been a rough past few months for him. I just want him to be happy.”

“We all do,” Cole agreed. “Lloyd deserves a night just about him, for once.”

Zane frowned. “But how are we supposed to give him the party that he wants if he won’t tell us what he wants?”

“Let me try to talk to him,” Kai said. “He might open up more if it’s just one of us there.”

---

Lloyd, in fact, did not want to talk.

He was more open during their classes the next day, and held casual conversation with him, but forcefully avoided the topic of his birthday whenever Kai brought it up.

He huffed with frustration. What kind of kid didn’t want to celebrate their birthday? He wished Lloyd would just tell him what was going on.

He wasn’t going to, though, so naturally, the next best thing was to follow him.

He wouldn’t call it spying- just finding another way of obtaining information when Lloyd refused to give it himself. Besides, he was doing this to help Lloyd, not to hurt him.

Kai jerked himself out of his thoughts as Lloyd nearly slipped from his view. He gritted his teeth, refocusing on him. Lloyd wasn’t an easy person to follow, either.

When he finally caught up to him, keeping a reasonable distance, of course, Lloyd was hovering near his locker. An unfamiliar, dark-haired kid was leaning against it, laughing at something as Lloyd smiled uneasily. Kai edged closer, his frown deepening.

“Where’s the spike head? And the rest of your gang?”

“Kai?” Lloyd shifted. “I dunno. He probably had homework and stuff to do.”

The guy shrugged. “I kind of found him annoying, anyway. You realize no one could ever get to you when your friends were around, right?”

“I guess that’s… kind of the point.”

“You can’t spend your whole life letting them protect you. If you block out any person who hurts you, you block out anyone who could potentially be a friend, too.” The guy smiled in a way that made Kai wanted to chuck himself between Lloyd and the guy.

“That’s… that’s the thing. No one wants to be nice to me.”

“Spare me the sob story,” the guy rolled his eyes. “I know your dad sucks, but at least you have one.”

Lloyd flinched. “Sorry.”

The guy laughed, putting a hand on his shoulder and shoving him. “Stop being so jumpy, will ya? No wonder kids pick on you, you’re as harmless as a flea.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Lloyd blinked. “I can’t hit them back, or I’ll be in more trouble than I already am.”

“You don’t need to hit them, just show them you’re not a total coward! Maybe if you actually listen to them instead of cringing away, things might change.”

“Listen to them? Are you saying they’re right?”

“What does it matter if they’re right? Look, Lloyd, you’ve already got it hard enough as it is, and you’re making everything more difficult. You’d be so much cooler if you actually hung out with important people and not the outcast-losers you’ve stationed yourself with.”

For the first time since the conversation had started, Lloyd appeared indignant. “They’re not- I mean, you’re not-”

The guy laughed. “See? You can’t even get a word out. You’re so pathetic. You don’t even need the fact that you’re Garmadon’s son to get picked on, you already got it all set up for the torment-”

Kai wasn’t aware of himself pushing forward, he just was, and suddenly he was gripping the guy by the collar of his shirt, a pair of wide, brown eyes staring fearfully up into his.

“Who do you think you are and what the hell are you doing?”

“I… um, I…” the guy swallowed, his throat running dry.

“You treating my best friend like a piece of shit?” Kai shook him. “Are you?”

“I’m sorry!” The guy squirmed. “I didn’t really mean it, we were just joking around, he says that kind of stuff to me all the time!”

“Really? Lloyd. Says that. You sure we’re talking about the same person? Because I do not take nicely to liars.”

The guy squirmed harder. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry! Just please let me go, I’ll never bother you again!” Kai shot him the fiercest glare he could muster. “You better not.” He stepped back, dropping the kid, and he took off like a bullet.

Turning back to Lloyd, he saw his friend was staring at the fleeing boy with wide, disbelieving eyes, but it quickly dissipated to anger as he turned to Kai. “What the heck did you do that for?”

Kai’s eyes widened. “I was protecting you? From a bully?” Lloyd’s eyes flashed, and Kai actually took a step back. “I don’t need you to protect me! I can fight my own battles!”

Before Kai could even say anything, Lloyd was storming down the hallway and disappearing around the corner.

Kai just stood there for a moment, in shock. What was that all about? Hadn’t he done the same thing for Lloyd a dozen times? Why would defending him ever be bad?

A buzz in his pocket interrupted his thoughts. Kai pulled out his phone to see a new message in the chat from his sister.

irondragonfangirl: how r things going with lloyd

MasterofFiyaaaaa: honestly? i think i made it worse

irondragonfangirl: well u better find a way to fix it soon because his bday’s TOMORROW

MasterofFiyaaaaa: yeah i’ll find a way through to him

MasterofFiyaaaaa: i just hope he listens

irondragonfangirl: don’t worry

irondragonfangirl: he will

irondragonfangirl: just make sure u remember to listen to him too

irondragonfangirl: i have a feeling we haven’t been doing that enough

irondragonfangirl: i feel terrible

MasterofFiyaaaaa: yeah me too

MasterofFiyaaaaa: we’ll make it up to him though

MasterofFiyaaaaa: right?

irondragonfangirl: sure as long as cole doesn’t burn this cake

irondragonfangirl: seriously y did we let him bake it

irondragonfangirl: if i dont respond in the next hour just assume his house burnt down and im dead

MasterofFiyaaaaa: can i have your motorcycle if you die

irondragonfangirl: shut up

---

Kai spent an hour looking for Lloyd after their confrontation, but he couldn’t find him anywhere, and Lloyd, unsurprisingly, hadn’t answered any of the twenty-some texts Kai had sent him, either. Eventually, he had to give up looking for him and resigned to speaking to him at school tomorrow.

His birthday.

In the first class they had together, Lloyd avoided looking at him, and Kai felt an ache in his chest. Today was his birthday. He knew things weren’t going to turn out like he had imagined, but he wanted them to at least be better than this.

Swallowing back his nerves, Kai walked over to him, where he was doodling something in his notebook.

Kai cleared his throat. “Um. Lloyd?”

Lloyd looked up, an expression flashing across his face that Kai couldn’t read, but he didn’t immediately leave or turn away from him, which Kai took as a good sign.

“Happy birthday, dude.”

Lloyd smiled tentatively back. “Thanks.”

Things didn’t go immediately back to normal after that- there was still a tension between them, and Lloyd wasn’t saying much more than a couple sentences at a time, firmly avoiding the topic of the previous day- but at least it was back to a level where Kai didn’t feel absolutely horrible for ruining his day. Lunch, at least, got a smile out of him- as well as a bunch of embarrassed blushing as Nya stabbed a candle into his brownie (they couldn’t actually light it, lighters weren’t allowed on campus) and they insisted on singing to him so off-key that Cole looked like he wanted to punch them.

When the last bell finally rang, Kai headed over to Lloyd’s locker, hoping they could talk now that there weren’t other kids around, but he wasn’t there.

Kai relented, pulling out his phone.

MasterofFiyaaaaa: Lloyd? i know youre upset but can we plz talk?

He held his breath, staring at the screen intensely, as if that would make Lloyd respond.

While he was waiting, a message from a group chat popped up.

irondragonfangirl: what’s taking so long jay, we need those decorations

jaybird123: eta 5 mins

jaybird123: i literally just left class how’d you get there so fast

jaybird123: wait you didn’t use the tunnels did you

irondragonfangirl: no me and cole are bringing the CAKE remember?

irondragonfangirl: im not taking that through the tunnel

irondragonfangirl: we didnt spend 3 hrs on that for it to get squished

irondragonfangirl: i told the nurse i wasn’t feeling well so i could go home early

irondragonfangirl: why didnt YOU take them

jaybird123: i couldn’t exactly discreetly smuggle all these decorations into my locker

jaybird123: mmm cake. is it good?

irondragonfangirl: don’t even THINK about it, that’s not until Lloyd gets here

jaybird123: but im hungryyyy

jaybird123: do i need to pick up anything for dinner?

rock’n’cole: nah it’s cool, we just found out lloyd’s favorite chinese restaurant, the Bamboo Dragon, delivers so we’re gonna order from there

jaybird123: my mouth is watering already

ZaneJulien:0xD;): Jay, you shouldn’t text while driving.

jaybird123: tell nya to get off my case then!

irondragonfangirl: exCUSE me zane you are supposed to be putting up those balloons right now why are YOU on your phone

ZaneJulien:0xD;): Why are you texting me? We are in the same room.

irondragonfangirl: why are YOU texting ME

rock’n’cole: would you guys just stop being dumb and come help me

irondragonfangirl: great now you got cole in on it too

rock’n’cole: would you two just GET OFF YOUR PHONES

Kai was interrupted from whatever turn the conversation was going to take next when he finally got another notification.

thegreendragon: ok. you know where i’ll be

Kai blinked, turning towards the doors and pushing through them, walking out onto the school lawn. The main feature was the football stadium, although there were other things as well- large trees, garden patches for the science classes, picnic tables for eating lunch outside, if the weather permitted. And- although the students were too old for recess, now- there was still a small swing set- a simple, rusty thing, with only two swings, but it served its purpose. Sitting on one of them, gently rocking, was Lloyd.

Kai made his way over, sitting down beside him in the other swing.

“So, uh… can we talk? About yesterday?”

Lloyd nodded, and Kai titled his head at him, trying to gauge his thoughts. “Who was that kid?”

Lloyd breathed out slowly. “His name is Brad. He was my best- and only- friend in elementary school, but we were separated when I moved away. Brad’s family just recently moved to Ninjago City, and I… I was hoping to reconnect with him.”

Kai ignored the twinge of jealousy at the words “best friends.” Lloyd was allowed to have other people than him in his life, and things had obviously changed since then, anyway.

“I’m sorry, Lloyd. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything, but from what I saw… Brad was being a jerk to you.”

Lloyd shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah, I… he’s changed since we were kids. The efforts at rekindling our friendship honestly aren’t going so well. That’s… that’s why I was in a bad mood. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You were only trying to do something nice for me.” “Don’t worry about me. But this Brad kid… anyone who treats you like that doesn’t deserve to be your friend.”

“I know, I just…” Lloyd sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “I was so eager to make a friend other than you guys…” His eyes widened as he processed his own words. “Not there’s anything wrong with you guys, it’s just- I just wanted to actually earn someone who wasn’t friends with me because of a shared occupation.”

Kai elbowed him. “Hey. This whole ninja thing may be what got us introduced to each other, but we’re not friends with you because you’re one of the ninja. We’re your friends because we love you as a person. As Lloyd, not the green ninja.”

Lloyd sniffed, giving him a soft smile. “Thanks, Kai. I’m glad I have you to protect me.”

“You don’t need protection, but you’re stuck with me as a best friend, so you’re going to get it, anyway.”

Lloyd laughed. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

His phone buzzed, and he quickly checked it.

irondragonfangirl: the party’s all set up, now the only thing missing is lloyd. did you get to talk to him?

MasterofFiyaaaaa: yeah, we’re cool now. on our way

Kai turned back to Lloyd. “C’mon, green machine. Let’s go enjoy your birthday.”

Lloyd blinked at him. “Huh?”

“Your party, remember? The one Nya and the guys have spent the whole week planning? Or is there some other celebration I don’t know about?”

Lloyd shook his head. “No, no, it’s just- I thought I messed it all up.”

“Don’t worry, we got it under control.”

“Really?”

“This is our teammates you’re talking about! Stubborn as mules. They’re not giving up on you that easily.”

“I… thank you. Thank you guys.”

“You can tell them yourself. We’re going to this party, and we’re going to have fun!”

---

Kai had to admit, he was impressed with what the others had been able to pull off in such a short amount of time.

It was nothing huge or extravagant, but it was a nice little party, and Lloyd seemed to like it better like that, anyway.

They were barely through the doors of the warehouse when Jay was launching himself into Lloyd’s arms, pulling him into a tight hug, the others close behind.

“Happy birthday!” they cheered.

Lloyd hugged them back, laughing. “Thanks, guys, I didn’t- I didn’t expect all this!”

“Are you kidding?” Nya put her hands on her hips, grinning. “We’re pulling out all the stops for our baby bro.”

Lloyd’s smile briefly flickered to a scowl. “I’m not a baby.”

“To us, you always will be,” Kai said, slinging an arm around his shoulders and ruffling his hair. Lloyd squirmed away, although he was unable to hide the grin on his face.

“Wow, this place really looks different.” Lloyd gazed around at the warehouse with wide eyes. They had pushed aside training equipment to make room for tables and chairs, and green and gold streamers decorated the walls, adorned by multicolored balloons. Someone had plugged a gaming console into the TV, as well as a DVD player next to a box of DVDs- which must’ve been Jay’s, he was the only person Kai knew, apart from Master Wu, who even had DVDs anymore- because Kai still hadn’t been able to convince Master Wu to buy them Netflix on the warehouse’s TV, getting the TV there in the first place had been hard enough as it was. On the far end was a buffet table, filled with rice, chicken, dumplings, and other Chinese staples from the Bamboo Dragon- as well as a beautiful, heavily frosted cake in the center of it all. It was decorated with rainbow sprinkles, making it completely and uniquely Lloyd.

Lloyd’s eyes were on the cake too, his eyes wide. “Cole! It looks amazing! I never knew you were so good at making cakes!”

Cole shrugged, trying to hide his smile. “I’ve had some experience.”

“Hey! What makes you think Cole made it?” Nya sniffed.

Cole blinked. “I did.”

“Well, I helped.”

Cole snorted. “Don’t know if you could call it that. From my point of view, it seems like I was doing most of the work while you were busy texting your boo.”

Both Nya and Jay turned scarlet.

“I was not,” Nya spluttered. “I was making preparations for Lloyd’s party!” “Yeah, yeah, whatever you have to tell yourself.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions too hastily,” Jay said, turning to walk over to the cake. “The true judge of quality will be how good it tastes.”

Nya stuck an arm in front of him. “Not so fast, mister! Dinner first.”

After laughing, playing games, and eating, they insisted on opening presents. Lloyd was all smiles and gratitude with each one, which ended up sparking a debate between the others about whose gift he liked best.

“He totally loved my gift!” “Nuh-uh! Did you see the way he smiled a little differently on mine?”

“Jay, you literally gave him a book. Why would he be excited about that?”

“Not just any book! A first edition Starfarer collector’s comic from when my parents were kids, and in mint condition, too!”

“Why would you want some dusty old comic when you could have the newest Starfarer video game?” Kai argued. “It took forever for me to find one of these, they were sold out everywhere.”

“Starfarer this, Starfarer that,” Cole sighed. “I don’t understand how he could possibly need any more Starfarer things. The record I engraved for him is way more personable and unique.”

“You guys are thinking about this all wrong! You should’ve gotten him a katana like me, something that he actually needs and uses.”

“Statistically, Lloyd spends more time drawing than any other hobby,” Zane said. “Which means my gift of an art book and new set of pencils is logically the best fit.”

“Clearly you guys all have it wrong in the head-”

“Guys, relax,” Lloyd laughed. “I loved all your gifts equally.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Jay… it means exactly what you think it means.”

“You can’t even pick one gift?”

Lloyd shook his head. “No way. These are all amazing. Thank you, guys. Really.” His gaze met Kai’s for a long beat. “For everything.”

“Of course. But, just to make things clear, you did like mine the most, right? You’re just saying you liked them equally, so that you didn’t make the others feel bad?”

Lloyd smacked his forehead as the others burst into protest again, and Kai shot him a sharp-edged grin. “I can do this all night.”

Eventually, Lloyd got them to stop bickering- the mention of cake got them all quiet pretty quickly- and after divvying it up, they went over to the couch and played the video game Kai had gotten him. He quickly lost track of time, but time didn’t matter. Even if it meant they would be tired for school the next day, seeing Lloyd like this- half sprawled over his teammates, brow scrunched in concentration as he mashed buttons on his controller, hints of frosting on his lips as he tried and failed miserably to bite back his laughter- it was worth it. He looked happier than Kai had seen him in weeks.

For that, he could even contain himself from bragging about how Lloyd obviously liked his gift best.

#ninjago #ninbingo #my fic #rosie writes #ninjago kai #lloyd garmadon #ninjago nya #jay walker #ninjago cole #ninjago zane #HAPPY BIRTHDAY GREEN BEAN #I LOVE YOU SO MUCH #XD guys i got so excited about lloyd's big day #maybe i have a bit of a problem but shhhhhhhh #hope this did him tribute #tlnm #thanks for reading!#reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!

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