#this is them in general and also in every fwb au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ugh-yoongi · 1 year ago

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about u | jjk

❝ this song is about a love that you can’t reconcile—wanting to make a home out of a person that has proved to you time and again that they are not a home; they are just a person. it’s about retracing scars, negative patterns, all with the silent belief that moments of communion and understanding might justify months of misfiring and regret. we’re all just trying to get back to that ‘first high’ feeling—an honest endeavor, however futile. ❞

✤ PAIRING jungkook x f. reader ✤ GENRE exes to fwb to strangers, college/grad school au; angst, smut ✤ RATING explicit. minors do not interact. ✤ WARNINGS toxic & self-destructive behavior (inc. jealousy and possessiveness). infidelity (with an external partner). reader is bisexual (which is not a warning but a general statement so the homophobes stay away) and there is a brief mention of coming out. two people who are both too honest and unable to communicate. swearing. cigarettes and alcohol use. kissing, some spitting, fingering, oral sex, protected vaginal sex. every time i asked jess to read this over for me she always came back with "jfc jewel" so i guess this is angsty. unhappy ending. ✤ WORDCOUNT 7.3k ✤ LISTEN TO this was based off of "winterbreak" by muna, but there are bits and pieces of the entire about u album in here, "everything" and "outro" especially. ✤ THANK YOU to muna for writing the album, @the-boy-meets-evil and @hot-soop for reading over this for me multiple times and putting up with all my brainstorming and my beloved @here2bbtstrash for the extra set of eyes. ✤ AUTHOR'S NOTE hi, thank you for reading! i cannot emphasize enough how much more sense this story will make if you listen to about u in the background. i would also like to reiterate that these two are maybe not all that likeable most of the time, but i hope they're still human. as i once saw in an ao3 tag, you are more than the worst thing you've ever done.

[ the first. ] You’d read an article once—something about the second time you fall in love.

It’s going to feel different, it’d said. The first time felt like a dream.

As you stare across the kitchen at Jeongguk, you think that might be true. The part about it feeling like a dream, because it used to be a pinky-lavender haze and everything that has come after hasn’t felt so good. Not a nightmare, but close. At least with nightmares you can force yourself awake. You can tell yourself it wasn’t real. You can pretend.

This is as real as it gets, watching him smile over the rim of a plastic red cup. Someone else’s hand on his arm. The girl it belongs to looks nothing like you, and you wonder if she’ll be the second time he falls in love. You also wonder why you didn’t stay home. You wonder about fault and regret and if either of them even matter. No, you eventually decide: there’s just you in Taehyung’s kitchen and Jeongguk on the other side of it and the result of a million decisions in between you.

There had been a plenitude of reasons you’d fallen in love with Jeongguk, but he’s undoubtedly beautiful. Soft, tinkling laugh; a smile that reaches his eyes. Not all that long ago you used to be responsible for both, so there’s a lingering, bitter sting beneath your wonder. Jeongguk is beautiful and no longer yours, and that’s enough to have you retreating to the living room.

Jimin’s at your side immediately. Wraps an arm around your shoulders and presses a kiss to the top of your head that does little to alleviate your guilt. Missing someone is always easier with thousands of miles in between you. All those distractions. Just like a nightmare, distance lets you pretend. Not so easy to do when all those ghosts come back to haunt you; when you can still hear Jeongguk’s soft voice in the kitchen. The music is so loud but you’d be able to hear him anywhere, you think.

Even places he’s not.

Jimin leans down, forces his way into your personal space. “Are you doing okay?” he asks, and his words are warm and wrapped in alcohol, but you nod. You’re scared you might start crying if you open your mouth. Afraid of what might come out besides shuddering breaths, which just makes you feel stupid. Baby’s first breakup, you chide yourself. Maybe Jimin can get you a commemorative ornament.

Taehyung is turning twenty-four and it should be joyous. It is joyous. People that aren’t you are laughing and dancing and pressing their cheeks together as they huddle close to take selfies. Someone you don’t recognize is cackling wildly as they wrangle Taehyung into a headlock and smear cake frosting on his face. Someone else is tutting and running a rag under the tap to wipe it off and then the frosting is gone. It’s hard not to draw parallels.

There one minute and gone the next.

Gently wiped away.

But the feeling lingers, doesn’t it? The tack of the frosting, all the love that transpired between you and Jeongguk. Sometimes you fear it’s permanent—not able to be wiped away with a rag run under the tap, not able to be wiped away at all. Just this burden you’re cursed to carry, because Jeongguk isn’t and can’t be yours but knowing does nothing to erase the past. Doesn’t help you forget. It’s fucked and it’s unfair, but that’s just the way it goes.

“I think I should leave,” you say, watching another scene play out in the kitchen. Jeongguk fills a cup and hands it to a different pretty girl. Everyone here is so pretty. Makes sense; so is Taehyung. Pretty people are drawn to one another like that. “Is it too soon? Will it be obvious?”

Jimin sighs, wraps you in a hug. Says, “Oh, love,” in a way that’s too sympathetic. Makes you sound too pathetic. “No one will blame you. These things are hard.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. Not that you don’t appreciate Jimin’s reassurance, but sometimes it all feels a bit silly. Weren’t you the one to walk away? Call it off? Are you allowed to mourn the very thing you destroyed?

And Jimin, bless him, is so patient with you. Asks if you need a ride home and you wave him off, remind him your parents’ place isn’t far, that the cold might do you some good. You tell him you appreciate him and his night shouldn’t be ruined on your account, and you just laugh when he tries to protest, tell him to go get himself another drink.

“Text me when you get home,” he says, voice stern, and you brush that off, too. “I’m serious. It’s late and it’s dark and anyone could be out there—”

“Maybe I should walk you home, then?”

All those articles you read about the second time you fall in love didn’t mention this. Said nothing about the way a voice will always be able to turn your world on its axis and how to right it again. Said nothing about how to coexist with ghosts. Said nothing about what to do with all the yearning and the pain and the stupid, selfish strands of hope. There are paragraphs about an overarching, general grief, but nothing about the specific one living inside of you.

The shock on Jimin’s face is reflecting your own. It’s nice to not be the only one caught off-guard and stammering over their words. It’s nice to have a friend when it feels like your entire world is on the edge of collapse. “I don’t…” he begins. Swallows thickly and turns to look at you, an obvious question biting at the back of his teeth.

You know the answer.

You know that what you should say isn’t what you want, just like you know it isn’t fair, this thing you’re doing. Because you turn to Jeongguk and say, “Are you sure?” which might as well be a yes, because you’re selfish and suspended in this liminal space and don’t want him to go home with anyone else. You don’t want him to move on.

He shrugs. “It’s on the way.”

You say okay. Let Jimin help you into your coat, hide his face in your neck as he tells you to be careful, and that stings. You’ve never had to be careful around Jeongguk before. The two of you never, ever hurt one another—until you did. The kind of hurt your heart hasn’t easily forgotten, is still stubbornly clinging to.

Your heart wants Jeongguk, always.

You want Jeongguk, always, so you let him grab your hand, link your pinkies together. You let him lead you out of the house and don’t turn back to see who might be watching. God, you want to, though. Want all those pretty girls to see that he’s leaving with you. Want them to know it’s your name that’s branded on his heart; your name beneath his skin. For once, you want someone to want what you have.

It’s strange. The two of you have been apart for eight months, and there’s a lot of things you might want to tell someone in that amount of time, but you find it hard now. Don’t know where to start, which words to use. Don’t want to say something stupid, because Jeongguk is just walking you home but you’ve assigned a lot of meaning to it, and eight months is a long time to yearn for something and finally get it.

So you say, “You didn’t have to do this, you know,” because it’s something that’s true and easy to say.

Jeongguk doesn’t answer right away. Drops your pinky so he can hold your hand properly—fully, all five fingers intertwined—and squeezes. “Is it weird for you?” he asks, and he doesn’t sound nervous. Almost sounds like he’s smiling a little, giving you shit. He sounds familiar.

“No. I don’t know. Maybe a little.” He asks why? at the same time he passes under a streetlight. Lights up golden and amber. He’s beautiful—“I don’t know. It’s just… I guess it’s just been a long time. We didn’t leave things the best.”—and no longer yours.

The Jeongguk walking beside you is not the same Jeongguk that walked out of your dorm eight months ago, tears staining his cheeks, the smell of a goodbye fuck still clinging to his clothes, his skin, sweat still dotting his hairline. This Jeongguk is sharper, more selfish with his laughter, and you wonder about all the ways heartbreak can change a person. How you’re changed for facilitating it. You wonder if Jeongguk blames you before deciding you’re too much of a coward to find out the answer.

“Was it that bad?” When you look over at him, he’s chewing on his lip ring, trying to bite back a smile. “You’ll have to remind me. I don’t remember.”

You stop walking, jerking forward when Jeongguk is left unaware and keeps going. “That’s not funny,” you say. “Jeongguk, that’s not—I did what I thought was best, okay? I thought I was doing the right thing—”

The smile drops from Jeongguk’s face. “Hey, hey, look at me,” he says, and he’s hesitant to reach out and touch you but he does it anyway. Cups your face in both hands. “I know, it’s okay. That’s just—it’s just life, right? You did what you had to do, babe. It’s okay.”

You did what you had to do, babe.

Did you?

Jeongguk is selfish with his laughter but never his affection, and knowing that feels like an albatross around your neck. You have broken him so entirely, but he’s still kind to you, finds it a worthwhile thing to be.

His eyes go to your lips. Tattooed fingers dimple your face just a little more, dig in deeper. When you dare to take him in, he looks… different. No longer amused, the way he was just seconds ago; now, there’s something dark there. Longing, anger, hunger. Jeongguk looks like he wants to swallow you whole and make you suffer; looks like he wants to cage you beneath him and worship you through the comedown.

I’d let him, you think as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. As you smell the smoke that lingers, the sweat and the alcohol. I’d still let him.

It’d be so easy to press a kiss there. To feel his skin beneath your lips: flushed, still warm from the party, not all daunted by the bitter winter wind biting at your cheeks. As you lean in further, you wonder if it’ll taste the same. You wonder how much can change in eight months and if all those old comforts change, too. If it’s something inevitable.

Jeongguk moves his hands to your waist. Crawls his fingertips beneath your jacket and finds bare skin. Sucks in the smallest bit of air, and you would’ve missed it had it been any other time, but winter is always quiet and subdued. Always smells transitional, something dangerously close to hope and redemption.

And eight months is a long time to miss the feel of someone’s lips, isn’t it, so you think you can be excused for reaching for something you thought you’d never have again.

The first kiss is hesitant, testing; pressed to the spot just beneath his ear. Maybe you don’t know this Jeongguk, but you know the version of him you used to love—the one you still do—and you know the way he’ll sigh. You know the way his hands will grip tighter. You can still hear it, the way you used to kiss him there and he’d say, don’t start something you can’t finish, baby, and the way you’d laugh and always, always finish it. Can still feel the warmth that used to bloom in your chest. The love.

Jeongguk won’t say that now, you know. Wonder if it’d sound more like don’t start something you already finished if he did. He huffs a small laugh, more an exhale than anything, and asks, “What are you doing?”

And you answer, “I don’t know,” because it’s honest. You admit, “I guess I just miss you,” because it’s true.

A war wages within Jeongguk. You can see the storms, the white flags that are close to being thrown out. Can see the way his gaze flits between your lips and your eyes. What he’s looking for, you don’t know, but the storm rages on. And just like real life, just when you think it’s at its worst, there’s a break in the clouds: a tangible beam of silvery-warm light when Jeongguk tangles his hands in your hair, thumbs at the hinge of your jaw. Jeongguk tilts your head back and looks ethereal in the amber glow of the streetlights.

He says, “We shouldn’t,” and you nod, because you know and the anguish on his face is surely mirrored on yours, but when he follows it with, “let me take you home, let me take care of you,” you find it impossible to care.

You nod.

Everything is amber.

Eight months is a long time to go without the way Jeongguk kisses you: intentionally, demandingly, insatiably. He still tastes the same. Tastes like the first time you’d ever dared to kiss him, back at that party freshman year, tongue flavored with cheap liquor. Jeongguk tastes forbidden and feels like coming home.

You couldn’t say how you make it to Jeongguk’s apartment, but the way you stumble over the threshold feels familiar. The way the door is barely locked when Jeongguk crowds your space; picks you up, wraps your legs around his waist, presses you against it, hips moving on their own accord, rutting, all those little sounds spilling from his lips—everything is familiar. This is not just a practiced song and dance but something memorized. Something instinctual. You could be apart from Jeongguk for years instead of months and your body would still know what to do.

He carries you to his bedroom and you don’t think about who else has been between his sheets, because he puts you down so gently. Kisses your lips, your jaw, your neck—all gentle, powder-soft. Sounds like spring when you paw at the velvety cashmere of his sweater, pull it over his head, and he sighs. Feels like he’s breathing fresh life into something he shouldn’t, something long dead, but then you skim along his warm skin and your world is reduced to the way it feels like silk beneath your fingertips.

“I still love you,” Jeongguk whispers against your mouth, his inked fingers toying with the button on your jeans. Pops it open, pulls the denim down your thighs. Doesn’t bother pulling them off, only goes as far as your knees. And it’s uncomfortable, the way it’s bunched there, but the way Jeongguk says, “Fuck, missed you so much,” is so sweet.

Everything happens too fast.

Jeongguk leaves your shirt on. Drags it up and over your breasts and kisses at the newly-exposed skin. Sinks his teeth in, lets it hurt for a second before he laves over the marks. Settles between your legs and coaxes an orgasm out of you with his mouth and his fingers. Speaks his praise into the juncture of your thigh, breathless as he touches himself, strokes his cock with the wetness lingering on his fingers. Looks so, so pretty when he sits back on his haunches and says, “Just wanna look at you,” and makes it sound wistful and longing.

Makes it sound like it means something.

He’s still touching himself, still slicking himself up. There’s a split second where he goes to move and thinks better of it. Looks to the side before looking back at you. The storm kicks up again. “Have—” he begins before he swallows thickly. Dares to look hopeful, even through the squall. “Have you been with anyone else? Since…?”

You haven’t. Tried to, once—another stupid party, more cheap liquor passed to your mouth from someone else’s, but it hadn’t gone anywhere. They hadn’t tasted like Jeongguk; hadn’t felt the same. Two puzzle pieces that fit together all wrong.

Jeongguk has, though. Something you’d heard from a friend of a friend that you weren’t meant to. They’d called it a rebound, and it had bloomed so many ugly thoughts in your head. Five months had passed. Jeongguk was fucking someone else in his bed while you were in yours, torturing yourself over whether or not to tell him happy birthday. Whether it was allowed to or not, it’d stung.

(You had. You’d reworded the text a million times, plucked up all the courage you could find before you sent it. It’d gone unanswered, just like you expected it would, and you thought it was because Jeongguk didn’t want to talk to you. Thought you were digging your fingers into wounds that had yet to heal, so it’d stung but you understood.

But Jeongguk hadn’t answered because he was fucking someone else. Had someone else’s taste on his tongue; was panting someone else’s name into the dark. The embarrassment had been the worst part.)

Still does, if you’re being honest with yourself, so you lie. “I—yeah,” you answer. “Just one.”

Looks like it stings Jeongguk, too. “Right,” he responds, blinking back tears, and he’s got a lot of nerve, you think. “Yeah, okay, I’ll just—a condom. Are you…”

“Jeongguk—”

“Are you sure? Maybe this isn’t…” He huffs. Drops the condom on the bed, hangs his head. “What are we doing?”

You stare up at the ceiling. Nothing up there but the swirls in the plaster. “I don’t know,” you admit. “Hurting each other, probably.”

Jeongguk walks his fingers down your thigh. Grips at your skin, wants it to bruise. Wants you to have something to remember him by come morning. “Sometimes I’m really mad at you, you know?”

“Yeah, trust me, I know.”

He nods. Refuses to look you in the eye now that you’re watching him. “I still love you so fucking much and I’m still so angry. What am I supposed to do with that? What am I… fuck, I thought I was over it. I thought I’d see you and not feel a fucking thing.” There’s fresh ink on the back of his left hand. You hadn’t noticed it earlier, but you notice it now, when he runs his hands down his face.

You also notice the way the atmosphere shifts, the split second in which his heartache bleeds into something else—resolve, maybe. Obstinacy. Like he knows how this is going to end and he’s going to do it anyway. He’s going to find the most painful part and press on it, dig his fingers in, and it’s just an inevitable, foregone thing. Something he can prevent and something he’s choosing not to.

“You fucked someone else,” he sneers. Rips the foil open with his teeth, flashing too white in the dark of his bedroom. Rolls the condom on like it’s an inconvenience. Like you’re an inconvenience. “Was it good? Was it worth it?”

You roll your eyes. Feel the way your breath catches in your throat, because you’re not going to cry. Jeongguk fucked someone else and is vilifying you and it’s hypocritical and ugly and unfair, but you’re not going to cry over it. You’re going to press the gas pedal as far as it can go, say, “Yeah, it was,” and find some wicked delight in the way his eyes squeeze shut, as if it can spare him from the pain.

The two of you used to love each other. Jeongguk used to smile down at you when you were naked beneath him like this. Used to lean in close and whisper that he loved you just as he pushed inside even though you knew, you could feel it in everything he did. Now, there’s no smile. Now, he leans down and spits on your pussy and pushes inside and doesn’t tell you a goddamn thing.

Not with words, anyway.

Because the way he fucks you says it all. Impersonal, desperate, bitter. He grips your hips and fucks into you frenzied and fast. Takes your hand and puts it on your clit and tells you to get yourself off. An inconvenience. Tells you he misses your tight cunt, tells you he misses the way it milks his cock, tells you he misses watching the way you come undone underneath him, but he doesn’t tell you he misses you.

There’s a moment, just after he spills into the condom and stays inside, just catching his breath, when you think he might say it. Might tell you he loves you around the lump in his throat, might apologize, might ask if you two can’t figure it out.

There’s only a moment.

Jeongguk doesn’t say anything. Lets the moment pass. Pulls out and ties off the condom and wordlessly gets up to throw it away. It’s the silence that pisses you off. The disregard. Jeongguk hates you for something you’d lied about doing that he’d done for real, so you can be wordless, too. You can treat him like an inconvenient, cheap fuck, too. You can get up and find your clothes and pull them on and let him watch, words biting at the back of his teeth, and you can tell yourself to feel nothing.

You can say, “You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve,” and not shy away from the resentment in your voice, because it’s properly placed. “You fucked someone else, too, so you’ve got a lot of fucking nerve, Jeongguk.”

Eight months is a long time to miss someone, to play at daydreams. To think of all the things you want to say, the things you’ll do. In not one of them did you think about this: you, fully dressed and stinking of sex, saying, “It’s late. I’ll show myself out.”

Jeongguk, tears glistening on his cheeks, saying, “No, let me—baby, I’m sorry, please—I’ll drive you.”

A shake of your head. Jeongguk doesn’t push it.

Roll credits.

[ the second. ] Jimin wants to talk your ear off about it—the girl you’re seeing.

It’s new and there isn’t much to say. You tell him the two of you met at one of the student showcases put on by the art department and leave off the part about all of Jeongguk’s old friends being there, that he would’ve participated, too, if he hadn’t dropped out after you broke his heart. Leave off the part where you would’ve been there to support him instead, in another life. Leave off the part where it’d just been morbid curiosity: you, not an art student, wandering those halls to see if Jeongguk’s photographs were still framed on the wall.

“Is she nice?” Jimin asks, head nearly knocking into yours as someone shoves by him. “Fucking asshole.”

You nod. “Why would I date someone that wasn’t nice?”

Jimin, perpetually unbothered until he decidedly isn’t, sends you a look that he hides behind the rim of his cup. “Because you’re in your self-destruction era and aren’t thinking clearly.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“Exactly what I said. You know I’m happy if you’re happy, but…” He pauses as he trails off. Tries to wrap his words in something delicate. “It’s pretty clear you still aren’t over it. That’s all.”

You snort. “That’s all?” you repeat, like it’s some small thing. Like it’s normal and fine.

“I’m sure it’s easier to pretend when the two of you are thousands of miles apart,” Jimin amends, and he must see how you bristle, stung by the callout, because his eyes soften. “Tell me about her.”

She’s beautiful and kind and smart. Smokes clove cigarettes and the smell is always clinging to her skin. You know how to make her come but don’t know what she’s majoring in—fashion, you think, because she’s always holding fabric swatches against your skin. Tells you what suits you and what doesn’t. Tells you which textures don’t work, what’s too warm, and she doesn’t need to tell you what’s too cold because you already know it’s you.

She’s beautiful and kind and smart and has no idea you’re still in love with someone else.

But you can’t tell Jimin that, can you? Can’t tell him about how she’d dragged you to a private corner in the gallery and kissed you breathless; the way she made you come on her fingers; the way Jeongguk’s name nearly slipped out of your mouth as you shook. Can’t tell him that she’s got arms full of art. Delicate patchwork; nothing like the harsh, bold colors inked into Jeongguk’s skin, but it feels the same to trace the lines.

You can’t tell him much of anything, so what you settle on is, “She’s nice—good for me,” and it doesn’t sound convincing to either of you.

Jimin doesn’t call you on it, though. Not again. Instead, he keeps his gaze steady, staring into the fire, the flames dancing wildly when you meet his eye. “You need to be careful,” he says. “You’re going to hurt her, too. Maybe worse than you hurt him.”

“Jimin—”

“Just be careful,” he reiterates, and all you can do is nod. What else is there to do besides wait for the inevitable crash and burn?

And it’s a little unfair, you think, that Taehyung grows older every single year. A little unfair that guilt won’t let you decline the invitations. A little unfair that you can still pick Jeongguk’s laughter out of a crowd. A little unfair that these hometown friends-turned-acquaintances still throw sideways glances whenever someone else touches him, as if he still has someone to answer to; as if they’re expecting something.

An hour. You’ve survived an hour longer than you did last year, and it’s not much but you’re still proud of yourself. You’ve had a drink, talked to someone other than Jimin. Managed to ignore the way Jeongguk is ignoring you; the way he immediately leaves a room as soon as you enter. Maybe it’s better like this, you reckon. Maybe it’s what you need.

An hour is long enough. Jimin doesn’t comment on the way your bones crack when you stand to leave. No one needs a reminder of growing older. He doesn’t ask if you’ll be okay, either; if you need a ride home. Instead, he stays quiet as he studies you, clearly wondering if lightning strikes twice. If you’re going to be able to walk past Jeongguk and out the door without making another mistake.

You can at least make it across Taehyung’s sprawling yard and to the house. You can dodge the sweat-slick bodies and the girls sitting in laps. You can toss your empty cup in an overflowing trash can. You can pretend the eyes on your back are well-intentioned.

You can make it to the bathroom.

Annoying, the way your phone has been vibrating all night only to disappoint you. Irrational. You scroll past the emoji-laden messages, the coy flirting, because they’re from the person you’re actually dating—the person you told you were going to sleep early—and not from Jeongguk. You should feel guilty. You should feel guilty, but the face staring back at you in the mirror doesn’t look guilty at all.

She looks tired. A little beat-down, but that’s life.

Maybe that’s just what happens when you’ve spent the last two years of your life chasing after ghosts.

A knock at the door startles you. Sends your phone tumbling to the floor, screen probably cracked to hell, and you swear under your breath. “Just a minute!” you call out, a little stunned from how threadbare you feel all of a sudden.

Still, the knocking continues, and you’re on your knees on this bathroom floor and all you want to do is cry. You don’t want to be on this floor in this house. You don’t want to keep putting in the effort of maintaining the facades of all these friendships. You don’t want to keep coming back to this town, don’t want to keep being confronted with the harsh reality of all your mistakes.

“Just a fucking min—”

The words die on your tongue, because there Jeongguk stands, all the air in your lungs dissipating at the amount of space he takes up. Even worse when he steps inside and locks the door behind him. You feel like you’re going to drown. You feel like you’re going to scream or cry or both, and you’re still on the floor, still on your knees, and it feels too much like penance when you look up at him. Feels like you’re groveling, praying for forgiveness.

You stand quickly, ignoring the rush of blood to your head, the way your legs tingle. Jeongguk still hasn’t said a word, doesn’t seem like that’s going to change, either, and it’s really all you can do to stay on your feet when everything in you is screaming to collapse.

Eventually, he says, “You’re seeing someone,” and it isn’t a question, not really, but it borders on one. It’s a question and a confirmation and somehow sounds a lot like he’s asking for permission for something.

“I—yeah.” You swallow. “It’s new.”

He hums. Steps a little closer. Leans against the sink. Darts out his tongue to swipe at his bottom lip before he tugs his lip ring between his teeth. “Yeah? Does he treat you well?”

“She,” you correct, and there’s a flash of something in his eyes. Surprise, maybe. Jeongguk, at one point, had known everything about you, but not this. “And yeah,” you add on, barely a whisper, “she does.”

Part of you feels embarrassed. Jeongguk had known everything about you but not this, and you shouldn��t feel embarrassed or guilty but it still sits there in the middle of your chest. Feels like you’ve been keeping secrets. Feels like shame, even though you aren’t ashamed. Feels like you’re awaiting judgment. But the surprise in Jeongguk’s eyes disappears and something else settles in its place—uncertainty, if you had to guess.

“Are you happy with her?”

You shrug. “Like I said, it’s new.”

And Jeongguk is as emulous as ever, because he asks, “Does it feel like what we had?” and you already know the answer is no.

“I’m not sure anything will.”

It’s honest; you hadn’t said it to appease him, but he looks pleased anyway. You’re starting to understand why so many people write about their first love. Why it’s such a powerful role to fill. Because you and Jeongguk are standing in a bathroom behind a locked door, feet apart from one another, and you think, I don’t think there’s anyone I will ever love more than him even though it’s been two years. You think, I don’t think I’ll ever recover from this.

You think, I would try over and over and over again if he asked me to.

Later on, when you’re alone in your childhood bed and your face is streaked with tears, only your shame and guilt for company, you won’t be able to figure out who moved first, but one of you had.

Once upon a time, you had known everything about Jeongguk, too. You could recite his taste from memory, but it’s different this time. He licks into your mouth and it tastes like ash—nothing like the clove cigarettes your girlfriend smokes, but close enough that the parallel burns like acid in your throat. It’s close enough that you can keep your eyes shut and pretend again.

This time there’s no softness to be found. There’s just Jeongguk’s mouth pressed to yours, barely letting you breathe, not wanting anyone to hear. There’s just the sink digging into your back. Jeongguk’s hands gripping at your waist, pulling at the hem of your skirt. There’s the frustration and desperation of two people who love each other but will never, ever get it right.

There’s Jeongguk asking, as he spits into his hand and slicks you up, if you’re going to tell her.

There’s you, already too far gone, saying you don’t know.

There’s Jeongguk asking, as you’re clenching around him and dragging him with you to the edge, if you’d come back to him if he asked you to.

There’s you, already knowing the answer to this, too, saying you would.

But this isn’t that and Jeongguk doesn’t ask. When it’s over, he tosses the condom and does a half-assed job of helping you clean up and he doesn’t ask. He splashes water on his face and fixes his hair and he doesn’t ask. He tucks his cock back into his briefs and zips his jeans and he doesn’t ask.

Jeongguk has one hand on the doorknob and he doesn’t ask you to come back. Instead, he asks, “How long are you gonna keep doing this?”

For once, you don’t have an answer.

[ the third. ] You go even farther away for grad school.

You try to put more distance between you and Jeongguk, more distance between you and all the skeletons in your closet, but you just pack them up in different boxes and bring them with you.

You spend New Year’s Eve chain-smoking in your parents’ back yard—that same brand of clove cigarettes, because hearts are easy to break but some habits are not. Sometimes it’s a comfort to hurt yourself in the same way you hurt others, so you chain-smoke and you don’t go to to Taehyung’s birthday party because you weren’t invited and it doesn’t sting in the same way that it doesn’t sting that Jimin doesn’t call you once you’re home because he hasn’t spoken to you in a year.

The clock ticks down to midnight. Someone sets off fireworks. Absolutely nothing changes.

There are no half-baked resolutions. There’s no hope that this is going to be the year you get your shit together. There’s just you and the bed you’ve made for yourself; the autopilot you can’t—won’t—turn off, because you don’t know where you’re going anyway so you might as well just go wherever it’s taking you. There’s guilt and there’s shame and there’s baggage, but they’re all old friends. Those are old scars.

The sweatshirt you’re wearing doesn’t belong to you, and it does little to protect you from the bitter cold that bites at your skin. Jeongguk doesn’t belong to you, either, but he keeps coming back to you like he does.

“Mind if I sit down?”

You shrug, gesturing to the empty chair beside you. The small fire you’d built is down to its last embers, and it’s what you focus on, because you can’t focus on Jeongguk anymore.

“You weren’t at Tae’s.”

“Wasn’t invited.”

“Oh,” he breathes. “Sorry, I didn’t know. I would’ve—”

“It’s fine. I wouldn’t have gone anyway.”

He seems to hear what you don’t say. I wouldn’t have gone because I can’t be around you anymore. I wouldn’t have gone because I don’t trust myself with you. I wouldn’t have gone because I’ve burned down every good thing in my life trying to keep you. “Oh. Yeah, that—that makes sense.”

He’d texted you. Asked if he could see you. Just wanted to talk, and you’ve never cared much for symbolism, but nearing midnight on New Year’s Eve had seemed as good a time as any to let it go, so you’d said yes. Now, when there isn’t much to say, all of Jeongguk’s flimsy excuses are laid bare. Transparent.

“Was Jimin there?”

Jeongguk nods. “You didn’t know?”

You shake your head. Feels like it’s made of concrete. “No. We haven’t talked since last winter break.”

“Because of—”

How cruel, that you’d confessed to Jimin instead of the one person who deserved to know. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

You shrug again. “It’s okay. I don’t think it’s permanent, just until I can get my shit together, I guess. Wasn’t fair to drag him into my mess anyway.”

“It’s not that easy,” Jeongguk says, and it sounds like something he wants to be true. It sounds like something he’s said countless times in defense of himself. “We’d—I’d do it if I could.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “of course.”

Silence creeps up again, so you dig another cigarette out of the pack and offer one to Jeongguk that he waves away. “Cloves? That’s a weird choice.”

“Just something I picked up along the way.”

He hears you again: They’re what she used to smoke. It helps me heal to hurt myself with something that reminds me of her. Sometimes I chain-smoke clove cigarettes and I don’t wash the smell from my hands, my clothes, my hair, because it makes me feel less alone.

So he asks, “Was it real?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you answer, flicking the wheel of your lighter, words spoken around the cigarette stuck between your lips. “It never had a chance. Not a real one, anyway.”

“Do your parents know?”

“Know what? That I went away to college and started fucking women?” Jeongguk shrugs. Has the audacity to look embarrassed. “What are you trying to ask me? You wanna know if I keep coming back to you because I’m scared to come out to my parents?”

“No. I don’t know. I just—”

The laugh that escapes you is scorched and bitter. Sounds the way the tobacco tastes. “No, Jeongguk. I keep coming back to you because I keep hoping you’ll ask me to.” I keep hoping you still want me.

“I almost did,” he admits, and you can hear how he swallows around the lump in his throat. “The first time.”

“When you were a dick about me sleeping with someone else? Yeah, okay. You didn’t want me back, you just didn’t want me to be with anyone else.”

He huffs. “How the fuck do you know what I want? You’ve never bothered to ask.”

“Because it doesn’t matter,” comes your response, stilted and practiced. “It doesn’t matter what we want, because we’re just going to keep hurting one another trying to get it right.” You suck in a breath, wipe furiously at the tears on your cheeks. “And we’re never going to.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Then ask.” Jeongguk startles, looks at you with wide eyes. “Ask me to come back for real, Jeongguk, and I will.”

A beat of silence.

Two, three, four.

Someone sets off another round of fireworks. A dog barks. It’s so cold that you can see Jeongguk’s breath each time he exhales, each time he breathes out instead of speaking. All the words he isn’t saying. And it’s exactly how you knew it would go, but it does nothing to tamp down the devastation in your chest.

You’d confessed your transgressions to Jimin and thought your silence to your ex-girlfriend was a gift, that it was sparing her the pain of what you’d done. Now you understand that someone’s silence can be the most vicious thing of all.

[ the last. ] Graduation looms. It’s the last winter break you’re spending at home.

Your therapist suspects you get your compartmentalism from your parents.

They don’t mention it. They see the stack of boxes and your bare bedroom walls and they don’t say a word about any of it. They watch you pack everything in your car and don’t offer to help. They process their grief silently, and when you can’t stand it anymore, you say, “I dated a woman my senior year of undergrad, you know.”

They don’t say anything to that, either, but it feels good to tell them. Feels a little like freedom and reclamation, like you can be who you are in front of others.

When you leave for good, you don’t want to repackage all those same skeletons.

So you meet Jimin for lunch and you take it in stride that everything is weird, that there’s nearly two years of silence to fill. You don’t ask for forgiveness and he doesn’t demand it of you, just asks if you’re doing better. “I’m doing the best I can,” you answer, and it’s human and honest enough that he accepts it with a warm smile.

Jeongguk is more difficult.

There’s no way to neatly box up that kind of baggage.

You’d intended to stop by his apartment to talk, tell him you aren’t coming back anymore. There’s nothing left here for you, you’d told him, and there was a flash of something. A there’s me, isn’t there? that had gone unsaid, destined for the same fate as a million other unspoken words between you.

Because there is him, but there’s also the way you’re desperately trying to claw back into something resembling normalcy. You’d lost yourself when you also lost Jeongguk, and you need to figure out who you are without him. You need to know who you are once you stop running and let your demons catch up with you. You need to hear what they have to say.

Maybe Jeongguk had said it best last year—“It’s not that easy. I’d do it if I could.”—because you’re nothing if not predictable and self-destructive.

You’re nothing if not naked and on your back beneath him, your fingers threaded through his hair as he rocks his hips into you, more tender than you deserve. His lips are ghosting along your skin and every press feels like a brand. Feels like he’s both making a mockery of you and declaring you ruined for anyone who might come after him. Feels like you’ll love him until you die.

(Some version of you must exist outside of Jeongguk’s grasp—outside of his orbit, his bed—but right now, as he twines your fingers together and pins them above your head, you can’t figure out who she might be.)

Eight months had been a long time to think of all the things you wanted to say, and four years is worse. Four years, and you still can’t bring yourself to ask him to try again, but there’s nothing after this, nothing to lose, so your voice is hoarse and raw when you say, “Jeongguk,” and he groans a little, nips at the column of your throat because he loves the way you say his name. “Jeongguk,” you repeat, because he senses the urgency, hears what you aren’t saying.

“Yeah, baby, say it. Whatever it is, tell me.”

He rolls his hips faster. Before, he would’ve tried to prolong the ending, but he’s hurtling towards it now. There’s nothing after this, you know, but you need the confirmation. You need to finally put all of this to rest. “I want to—” His cock strokes someplace that whites out your vision. “Fuck, want to—want you to come with me.”

He laughs, full of himself, probably smirking out the side of his mouth. “Keep squeezing me like that and I will soon.”

“No,” you insist, shocked at the conviction in your voice, “when I leave. Come with me.”

Everything slows. Jeongguk pulls back, moves his hands to cover himself, and there’s nothing but cold confusion in his absence. “What?”

“I didn’t ask you before. Last year. I just—I left it up to you, and you’re right, I didn’t ask what you wanted, but I didn’t tell you what I wanted, either. But I’m telling you now. I’m asking—”

There was never going to be anything after this.

Jeongguk’s silence says it all.

The way he pulls out and rolls you onto your stomach. The way he fucks as fast and as hard as he can. The way he used to love you openly and honestly and now holds whatever’s left close to his chest like it’s something to be ashamed of.

Someone’s silence can always be the most vicious thing of all.

Roll credits.

thank you so much for reading, and an additional thank you in advance if you decide to reblog my work. as always, my inbox is always open for any feedback! ♡

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook imagine #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #bts x reader #bts x you #bts angst #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic

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rwrbficrecs · 1 year ago

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September Faves

Enjoy these September recs from the team 🥰

Best Bar in The World by @pridepages (book-verse)

@heybuddy-drabbles: Well, I can now confirm that I'm 100% cerified a pridepages fan. The way she picks the themes of the original source and uses them in a different setting is just absolutely flawless, the same happens in Little Pages. It's gives you the same feelings of reading rwrb but also reading something new and different all at the same time.

My Brother’s Keeper by @indomitable-love (book-verse)

@janetical: Written in Philip’s POV, it tackles all the canon events in a frustrating yet heart-wrenching way. I knew what I was getting myself into when I noticed the POV, but I really did hate Philip less at the end of this fic. Everything is entailed in this little story: unresolved daddy issues and grief, internalized homophobia and Philip acknowledging Henry’s first time. It will make you cry, and it will end on a somewhat happy note.

For all the world to see by @everwitch-magiks (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This is a fic I couldn't put down! I'm always a fan of Henry being a writer in fics (so the description alone caught my eye), and the mix of cute moments with firstprince (and David) and plot twists had me hooked! It's also such an interesting look at the life of a writer and how difficult it is for them to have anonymity, which was especially interesting to me because of the writers strike in Hollywood.

he looks up grinning like the devil by @coffeecatsme (book-verse)

@read-and-write-: Also known as the frat boy AU, if you want some hurt/comfort that really does what it says on the tin. Don't be afraid because it is completely worth it!

written in the stars by @indomitable-love (book-verse)

@heybuddy-drabbles: This is just so beautiful. It's basically about Henry mostly. I didn't expect the "past" part would hit so hard but it did. I had to put it down a few times because it was truly heartbreaking but it has a happy ending. Don't be fooled like I was about it being all fluff. It's not, it's very nostalgic and they are apart for a long time but I still recommend it because, like I said, it's really beautiful.

Deep Blue by @myheartalivewrites (book-verse)

@thesleepyskipper: This was just a stunning piece of writing that does such a wonderful job of evoking images of the seaside cliffs, swimming in the cove and spending lazy days in the cottage above. At the same time, we get all that delicious pining and FWB to lovers fun within that beautiful setting. The spicy bits are beautifully done too! Highly recommend!

Rae of Sunshine! (series) by @three-drink-amy @indomitable-love @clottedcreamfudge @everwitch-magiks @the-amber-fox @villiageidiot @athousandrooms @welcometololaland @dustratcentral

@rmd-writes: I couldn't choose just one fic from this series gifted to me so I'm recommending them all, but every fic very much deserves the recommendation! Nine food-themed fics featuring everything from an exploration of Henry's life through food to chef!Henry to craft services trailer!Alex to matchmaker!Pez to the world's most cursed coffee habits from some of my favourite authors (and people)

What Do I Know? by @three-drink-amy (book-verse)

@babiemonk: The angst is so good I cried

Screw Your Courage to the Sticking Place (and forget macbeth is a fucking tragedy) by @celaestis1 (book-verse)

@babiemonk: So amazing, I didn’t want it to ever end. The angst was so good. The kidfic element was perfect. Possibly the perfect fic.

@dot524: I absolutely loved this one. Such a ride and I enjoyed every bit of it. I also really enjoyed the character of Alex’s daughter. Lots of complexity, great story arc.

God Save the Blessed American President Mom by @zipadeea (book-verse)

@babiemonk: This fucking broke me I cried for at least an entire day

@suseagull04: This is such an introspective look at Alex and Ellen's relationship (and Ellen as a character in general) and it's so good!

like father by rizcriz (movie-verse)

@indomitable-love: A really lovely and sensitively told conversation between Oscar & Henry, where Oscar catches Henry sneaking out of the lake house. This one got me right in my emotions. Very healing.

Bite Your Tongue On Purpose by Woodsarelovely (book-verse)

@darwinsfinchesx: Coffee Shop AU with a twist. This fic has some of the best dialogue I’ve ever read. It’s delightful, funny, and the characterization is on point. It leaves a big smile on my face every time I re-read it.

seldom what they seem by @jumpinginmuddypuddles (book-verse)

@gwiazdziarka: Sleeping beauty AU, where they don't need to fight with witches or dragons but there are... other problems. I love modern-day solutions to fairy-tale problems and here it actually just makes everything more complicated.

Mr. Bodypillow by @inexplicablymine (book-verse)

@gwiazdziarka: Yes, I recently recommended this one as wip, but now it's complete and I just need to bring it up again, because it deserves all the attention. Alex and Henry have the most amazing relationship here that goes outside of usual norms. It's also the warmest and the sweetest thing that I've read in a while. And it has great ace representation.

@read-and-write-: Is Ace!Alex very special to you? Do you want to feel like someone is wrapping you in a soft blanket? Then Mr. BodyPillow is for you! It's beautiful and will leave you feeling all warm and fuzzy inside

come pick me up by @smc-27 (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This fic will both make you laugh and give you all the feels. An awkward first interaction when Henry requests an Uber ride leads to an instant connection and sizzling chemistry, all leading to a conclusion that, although satisfying, will leave you wanting more of this verse!

the winner takes it all by @dumbpeachjuice (book-verse)

@myheartalivewrites: A Tour de France, rivals cyclists AU! Keeping a lot of the book dynamics, Alex and Henry find themselves competing against each other on the Tour — and then falling into bed. This has everything: thrilling sports passages (even though I haven’t ever watched the Tour in my life!), romantic tension, a great read.

Love-Love by @smc-27 (book-verse)

@myheartalivewrites: a tennis AU set at Wimbledon, which obviously holds a special place in RWRB hearts. Alex and Henry as rival tennis players who’ve hooked up once, and then end up as doubles partners. A quick read that left me all warmed up from the inside.

a flicker, a spark by acastle (book/movie-verse)

@daisymae-12: Wow I don’t have the words to truly convey how much I loved this fic. It diverges from canon at Kensington and the events that follow are so beautifully written. This fic made me cry over an OC, made me feel seen when I recognized parts of my own cultural background woven into a story, made my heart ache for everything Alex and Henry have been through and made me tear up some more. This is one of the most heart-wrenching canon-divergence fics I’ve ever read and I know I’m going to be thinking about it for a long time.

Baby, All At Once (This Is Enough) by @iboatedhere (book-verse)

@daisymae-12: This fic is such a lovely look into Alex & Henry’s life post-canon and had me absolutely melting from the softness of it all.

Will You Brie Mine? by @cha-melodius (book-verse)

@daisymae-12: A fic featuring cheese and Henry being the one to sell it, what’s not to love? This was such a sweet fic and I loved the interactions between them! @cha-melodius always writes such amazing fics, and this was no exception.

#monthly faves #rwrb fic recs #firstprince #firstprince fic recs

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mybeautifulwifegojo · 2 months ago

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I am very much a monogamist even in my fictional ships but I can't stop thinking about an AU crackfic where Yuji is FWB with Megumi, Junpei, Yuta, and maybe Noritoshi (I have a soft spot for Mama's Boys) and Yuji is Utterly Convinced that every single one of them is on the same page--that is, they all enjoy making out/having sex with him, but it's all strictly platonic and they're all free to date/sleep around however they want, and if any of them decide to end or opt out of the arrangement, everyone else is chill

but the TRUTH. The truth is that Megumi, Junpei, Yuta, and Noritoshi all are desperately in love with Yuji. It is borderline pathetic how much they love him. They are all yearning their asses off, but they're all too depressed and traumatized to just say that to his face. And they all know that the other three love him, too. So these four gloomy dipshits are pining like the mightiest forests for Yuji and concealing it really really badly, but he doesn't notice because, as stated above, he genuinely thinks they all agree that this is platonic.

and then Yuji meets this really hot older guy who is NOT a dark-haired emo with untreated depression--Gojo Satoru is in therapy and taking his meds and hitting the gym and he is No Longer Emo, Thank You Very Much (he is absolutely still emo, he just doesn't tell anyone), and he's got a steady career as a guidance counselor at a low-income school where he's making a difference in the lives of hundreds of kids every day, and Yuji just. faceplants into love with him. you mean to tell him that hot guys with big hearts AREN'T all sad and anxious and hiss like angry cats when you mention talking to professionals??? sometimes they're just irritating rich bastards who care about protecting future generations??? and sometimes they blush all cute when they're caught donating enormous amounts of money to school clubs anonymously, or using their family's political influence to make it easier for kids to attend university, or physically beating the shit out of adult men who try to flirt with teenage girls???

So Yuji goes to his four friends who he also regularly sleeps with and says, "Guys, I can't have sex with any of you right now, I'm thinking about only one man's dick and it's making me feral how much I want his tongue in my mouth" and instead of being consoled or teased he is met with four grown-ass men having silent breakdowns internally while they try to figure out if they should team up to get rid of Satoru or be grateful that none of the others get to ride Yuji's dick either.

because this idea is coming from my head there is of course a happy ending where everybody gets help for their issues and Yuji and Satoru raise an army of children together and are Very Very Happy And In Love

#this would be a crackfic because I have no patience for even fictional men who cling to the fantasy of a relationship that will never happen #anyway. I'm not feeling well today #GoYuu #Jujutsu Kaisen

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blueparadis · 2 years ago

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❝ BORROWED ❞ + GOJO SATORU !

+. CWs —» slice of life au + band au, pov!shift, use of italics, f!reader, guitarist!gojo satoru, angst and feels, $mūt descriptions, domesticity, some past incidents, undertones of fwb and hook-ups, mutual pinning but kinda angsty, confession. wc – 1.5kish

+. PRECIS —» Gojo Satoru chased her like a traveler chases a mirage in a desert until she became his muse.

+. NOTES —» this was originally for ex’s & oh’s collab for oh’s hosted by @trafaligar ( @/zorotits ) but now it's just a plain drabble since I'm super-late; OH! this is also my first time writing on him properly, celebrating the ‘unboxing event’ by a lil drabble || redirect to blog navigation. also tagging – @dearestgojo @satorhime @orchid3a.

“No time is wasted, ever. It just passes and we as humans misunderstand it, always.”

“Misunderstand ? Time ?,” (y/n) said half-turning towards her one night stand. One of his arms is still over her waist, and the other sort of acted as a pillow for her. His eyes are vivid and lips, a little mischievous enjoying her reactions to his actions.

“Um-hm”

(y/n) turned towards him, completely. He bites the inner side of his bottom lip watching her adjust herself in his huge frame, tucking herself towards him. “What’s that supposed to mean, Satoru?” she whispered keeping her palms on his naked chest looking at him in a cheesy way. Tsk! such a tease. Satoru pulls her towards himself closing the inches gap between them earning a tiny gasp from her. His hands are rough but he is gentle now. His words are generally crude but now it's mellowed. “Well.” Satoru swiftly pulled his arms from underneath her. “Not telling.” he said sitting by the edge of the bed. The blanket is still clustered around his torso yet (y/n) frowned and turned the other way again.

“oh! What's this? Feeling shy after having sex with me. ” Satoru quipped slipping into his trousers. But she did not respond, not verbally. Just another eye roll before leaving the bed. Gojo notices that she is wearing a tank top and a boxer-brief, the visible skin glowing from getting freshly fucked.

Come to think of it, Satoru does not remember the time he was lulled to sleep. He remembers coming home with her, a bit drunk and needy, eating her out, fingering her, getting a skilled blow job . . . ( even though he was hesitant at first; but when you got on your knees, assured him with a smile that you are gonna be just fine, that he is gonna be just fine, he could not help but feel a little jealous. how many guys have you been with before him? He likes it, he likes you being confident and bold but does not like the way you got here. But that is not something he should think about right now. Never let the one-night stand dwell after dawn. ) . . . and then fucking her against the glass window of the balcony. He even remembers taking a shower without her, eating chop-suey with her at two in the morning, and enjoying the cold gusts of wind and the smell of tobacco lingering from her fingertips and corroding his nostrils. He even remembers singing her a song, boney fingers strumming against his guitar with her cheeks pressed against his shoulders and soft hands curling around his belly as he sang :

“Let's fall in love for the night

And forget in the mornin'.” Satoru is not much of a singer. He has never been one. That part belongs to Utahime. But when he heard ( y/n ) humming with him, he continued to sing :

“Play me a song that you like

You can bet I'll know every line.” ( y/n ) locks her hands over his tummy and her voice rises feeling Satoru's smile reverberating through her cheeks.

“I'm the boy that your boy hoped that you would avoid

Don't waste your eyes on jealous guys, fuck that noise

I know better than to call you mine.” (y/n) was still naked, only the stained bed-sheets wrapped around her body while Gojo still sang in that untoned voice. It was a good laugh, a good tease for him to be used later in the day.

When Satoru came to bed after smoking another joint, (y/n) was half-asleep. He does not particularly remember if they talked a bit or not, but all he remembers is the feeling of her boobs against his arms as he clamped his hands around her waist. He even heard a chuckle, as if she was mocking him, he could have sworn it — as if he was being a little more vulnerable than usual. But when she took his arm and interlaced her fingers with his, maybe that is when he fell asleep, maybe . . .

“Sa-toh-ru” You call his name one more time before taking your bag. With his hair down, half-clad he looks like a complete stranger. It was not always like this. He was like an open book to you. You could read his thoughts without him verbalizing it, and he was aware of it— through and through. But now, you are introduced to an entirely new side of him— which is a lot more mature and mutilated contrary to the side you always knew of him— childlike and unscathed.

“Yeah! Coming.” he yelled being out of your vicinity. By the time you were done wearing your pumps and covering the first set of staircase Satoru had already caught up with you or did you get slower? Is he actually keeping up with you or are you letting him keep up with you? After this impulsive long night, it is hard to say who is leading whom. Sometimes it was Satoru who would lead the way, sometimes it was ( y/n ); now they almost coincided. But parallel lines never coincide, or do they?

“Here, sit.” Satoru stated firmly grabbing her by the wrist and making her sit in front of him. The bus is not at all crowded. He could easily sit beside her but he would rather not. He needs to keep her at a distance. He needs to let his feelings sediment. He needs to clam down, not lose his wits because he just had sex with that one person he held dearest for the longest time. He needs to tell Suguru about it, otherwise he will explode, or at least he thinks so.

“Satoru,” you patted on the space beside you asking him to sit. Ah shit! Now he has to sit beside you, he cannot stand and wait for his mind to be at calm. “you know you can't stand and wait forever ” Satoru chuckles and takes the seat beside you. The bus is currently going towards the jam-venue. It is still forty minutes from the next turn. He has forty minutes to have you as a lover. These fleeting moments, where Gojo has the chance to steal her from the world and make her his and only his. These little secrets, tiny bubbling affection — your temper and tantrums — your angers and anguish — he can have it all if he could just bury his feelings that he has for you under the carpet. You would trample them every time you visit him on weekends, and he would let you. He would let you just to forget the history you share with him, just for mere a few moments when he could have you as a lover rather than a friend.

Even though ( y/n ) was not a part of the band, somehow she was intimately attached with his band. Every weekend she would go to watch them, watch his friend, Satoru, only him. Yeah, that's right. All she needs is courage, courage to say her feelings out loud before saying it to anyone else, even him. Just as he said during this noon, “No time is wasted, ever. It just passes and we as humans misunderstand it, always.”

Besides his reaction would not be a surprise to you. Satoru would be surprised if you were to acknowledge his feelings for you, acknowledge your feelings for him. Satoru would say something like, “Oh! So you knew all along?”

Satoru interlaces his fingers with hers earning her surprised stares. Finally, for once she is surprised by his behavior. “Yeah I know.” he beams. “I wasn't planning to.” Thirty-five minutes from the destination, thirty-five minutes for you to calm yourself down. Thirty-five minutes of his stone-cold fingers filling the gaps in your palm. So, he is nervous too. Oh! has he been nervous all along?

Satoru could feel her nervousness at her fingertips, as they tightly held onto his palm. If he were to look hard enough, maybe he would see the imprint of your palms through his. If he had been careful enough maybe he would not have confessed so blatantly, so plainly. If he had been courageous enough maybe all his songs would be about ( y/n ).

—

@tokyometronetwork

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evilwickedme · 1 year ago

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This wasn't asked for because nobody in their right mind would ask for this but this is a fic rec list of fics I cannot stop rereading

Just started yet another reread of Inimitable Verse by deniigiq and I fully plan on rereading their into the multiverse series which occasionally crosses over also - this is a Spider-Man/team red focused series, think comics canon infused early mcu-spidey since only homecoming had come out for a non substantial amount of time they were working on the series and the daredevil stuff is explicitly tv show AND comics. Also the multiverse series is how I got into Murderdock and therefore how I got into Spider Gwen

Unpretty's Sorrowful And Immaculate Hearts series which is just a loosely interconnected series of DC fics. My personal favorites are Empty Graves, in which Martha Kent keeps killing time travelers trying to kill baby! Clark; any of their clois fics but especially Third Wheel; and Anti-Social, which is a social media fic mostly about Tim and Bruce that made me cry laughing. Catch Bruce trying to get Walmart's employees to unionize. Also shout out to unpretty's only fic with Jason in it, it looks awesome but is tragically incomplete

This particular Reverse Robin AU which put in the work to reverse every single younger generation and is chef's kiss I LOVE this version of Tim he's wild

Both of Shoalsea's fics are in constant rotation for me I talk about Into The Brighter Night all the time in the tags of reblogs and stuff it truly lives in my head rent free. Anyway Tim gets kidnapped by aliens and the batfam have to watch as yj98 saves him and it's angsty and funny and such a good take on what could have been if the new 52 hadn't happened. And Compassion Builds No House is about Tim and Pru from Red Robin. Ugh they're both so good

Speaking of Clois (I did you've just forgotten this by now) brilliant (like a confession) by kathkin (penny-anna on the hellsite) is so fucking good I'm. Okay. Anyway it'll be listed as inspiration if/when I finally post my two person love triangle fic for them

I'm too anxious to catch up on this before it's done but jumble sale chic is hands down the best spideydevil fic series despite and because of the omegaverse

Make A Little Birdhouse In Your Soul is my favorite take on Jason, period, and has a lot of fantastic Damian stuff going on too. It's updating every few weeks still! Sometimes more often! I love you bacondoughnut it's me JustGail the person who will not stop commenting on your fic you're stuck with me forever

I lied above Rumspringa Murderdock is what got me into Murderdock but that series is second place. I found this one while scrolling through the tv show's mattfoggy tag, thinking I was safe

Speaking of Murderdock mattfoggy, The Lawyer All the Wickedness was written early on in spider-gwen's history and so diverges from canon really early in ways that I think are super interesting and creative

Oh also straight on 'til morning by merils (Tumblr url mamawasatesttube) does SUCH a great job unpacking Kon's trauma and building up healthy relationships around him including a budding timkon romance and yeah it makes me sad and happy at the same time

We're getting into poisonivory territory so just trust if you like the pairing and poisonivory is writing it you'll like it. Ok rapidfire

Like A Handprint On My Heart mattfoggy soulmate au with a twist

Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow? Damijon future fic/au. Jon came back from the future when both of them were 19. Demisexual!Damian at its best. Damian's terrified of being abandoned by Jon again and it made my heart hurt

I feel like I've already recommended every JayRoy fic by poisonivory and genuinely I do reread them all, sometimes in order of publication if I'm in a particular mood. Maybe the one I've read most though is I've Got the Feeling You're the Right Thing After All which is about Roy and Jason starting a fwb thing while Roy still harbors old feelings for Dick. Can't see anything going wrong here lmao

Mmm this post is long enough so I'll leave it at just superhero fic for now but I do in fact have the ability to do a whole post just for the Witcher or Leverage so I might do that. Anyway thanks for following me on yet another burst of insanity it will happen again

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resident-idiot-simp · 5 months ago

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Price being ready to murder Riley was NOT what I was expecting but I'm here for it. Are we allowed to ask for hcs for this au? Because honestly im curious what Riley thinks of Price and such.

- Kidney Anon (who is wearing their nametag with pride)

Not expecting Price to want to kill Riley? You must be new here lmao

Me and Az-

Omegas are very much dominant in this universe

Az-

(about Price) at first he's like meh, another alpha but quickly doesn't like his attitude to Tav

Tav loves how Riley is protective but also so bemused at someone being protective over him

The moment Riley realised he had a real chance with Tav he started a whole 10 year plan

(how they get together) So shit goes real south on a mission, Tav's injured and the meds and stress and timing all fuck up his hormones/suppressents. So its just them and they need to get it under control, etc, becoming fwb. Riley's like "chance!" and Tav is happy to have a decent alpha around who doesn't make his teeth ache

Me-

Riley goes into rut and starts begging for Tav. Tav sees it him but it's actually something deeper so that's how they get together

Also Price helped with his heat a few times (before MW2) so he thinks he's entitled to something more with Tav

Also with them being made Price can't take advantage of Tav so it prevents everything that goes wrong (essay on what I mean)

Az-

Riley going on leave for rut only to have his neighbour call up Tav because "your alpha won't shut up, come and deal with him!" It works tho since Tav expected Riley to find another omega

(more will come)

Price staring to say dismissive things about his chosen alpha, ignoring their mating bond to suggest he could be better. Imagining he says this infront of other 141 who all share a look and slowly start backing away

Me-

Roach is their son in this universe

Also all the 141 alpha's/Beta's sniff after MacTavish like he's the holy Grail

Price trys so hard to separate them and he's doing double time and trying to convince Tav to drop Riley. Price is convinced that if Riley dies the bond will break.. and normally it would but maybe there's something deeper tying them together

(Az) alternatively, he steps a little to out of line at some point, like just before they're about to set out on that mission, and Tav just snaps. is he hormonal and preggers? maybe.

It's all going fine until MacTavish just freezes and just start screaming at him. He has been putting up with his BS for far too long. He drags him through the mud. Pulls out every insecurity Price didn't even know he had. Gloats that he'll never be with Price that he needs to get over it. He wasn't a good alpha no matter how much he thought he was

Az-

"I've ripped out the throats of alpha Generals who were more useful than you are."

"You couldn't get me to bend as a rookie SGT without pushing me down, I voluntarily go to my knees for Simon"

"You don't want me, you don't want a strong omega, you want someone you can dominate. You want me because having me come to heal for you would be the biggest ego stroke there is."

Tav leaning in to whisper into a shocked Price's ear: "he prefers getting on his knees for me"

(me) And you don't know him. You don't know what an honor it is to have that alpha to trust you with his life. I've killed alphas for less then what you are insinuating now. But that alpha he has never wanted anything more than I would give him. And he thinks me for every scrap I throw him

Price looking around expecting some support from all the alphas standing around gawking except they're all basically enthralled with Tav

Roach shipped it from the start now he's doing everything he can to ensure he gets those sibling in year 6 of the plan

I also like the idea of Tav either ripping his throat out or like shooting/stabbing his arm and basically forcing his retirement

(preg Tav) they only find out a while after the fallout tho, when Shepherd tries some shit and he does rip his throat out, its not heat related and he didn't attack tav or riley so they have to investigate. A pregnant omega killing an alpha is pretty much the same

Tav also 100% gets even more mean when he's pregnant. It's like a switch flipped man is outright hostile and Riley loves every minute of it

People confuse Riley for the pregnant Omega because of just how much he smells of Tav and it makes Tav irrationally happy.

Tavs mentality while pregnant is, 'If I can't be more pregnant I'll make him pregnant' so the sex is wild

Az-

riley, shocked, sitting at the table: "...."

soldier: "aren't u gonna celebrate? bout time honestly, thought with the way u 2 got at it the cap would've been bred long ago"

riley: "if it were that easy, i'd be the one pregnant"

soldier: "...."

#call of duty modern warfare #cod modern warfare #john soap mactavish #soap x ghost #ghoap #captain mactavish #09 soapghost #resi responds #kidney anon #alpha beta omega #omegaverse #a/b/o #Resi's shorts

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puzzled-pegasus · 6 months ago

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Some Leo and Piper thoughts because I have no outlet for my feelings abt them

These guys are platonically soulmates and I love them dearly

I love the idea of them doing karaoke of or screaming along to pop songs together and especially doing silly duets

Additionly Leo being impressed by Piper's voice every single time she sings bc she has a lovely awesome voice

Im gonna make an au wherein they are fwb for my own mental health lol I just think that would be sweet as heck (maybe also poly with jason idk. or mybe thats even another au xD)

In general though they are usually just bffs

Leo likes to always show Piper things he's working on or asks her what he should make when he's bored lol

Piper also sometimes asks Leo if she looks okay and Leos always like why tf are you asking me I have no sense of style whatsoever lmao

Piper is Leo's main source of snuggles most of the time and she also lets him play with her hair and braid it when he needs a stim or when theyre just chillin

They also write and draw on each others skin w marker wjen they're bored and a lot of times they'll just have their arms covered in random misspelled words in the others handwriting lmao

Leo likes cooking and Piper likes baking and they both try each ofhers stuff that they make and gibe good feedback

Piper is a couple of inches taller than Leo forever >:3

piper has really cold hands and leo has really warm hands in general

Whenever they need to vent they generally go to each other and be frustrated togetehr about annoying bullshit that goes on lol

they also hype each ofher up a lot

both being hyperactive adhd kiddos a lot of their conversations consist of them excitedly interrupting each other lmao

Leo likes to infodump about technical and math stuff or theoretical stuff or really anything that he likes a lot and Piper doesn't get most of it but she loves seeing him excited so sje asks all the questions hehe

Conversely, Piper likes to tell life stories in great detail when she's deep in conversation and Leo gets invested because really she's a pretty great storyteller but also bc he loves her

i think it would be cute if they made jewelry for each other

They like to banter and also fake flirt (and real flirt sometimes, depending lmao)

at some point really soon adter they met Leo was like hey what color are ur eyes and Piper was like actually i have no idea loll and then he just stared st her eyes trying to figure it out for several minutes and idk that image is just cute

piper also does that mom thing where if there's schmutz on Leos face she has to clean it off with anything she can find or sometimes her thumb lol, jason does that same thing and Leo's an easy target cus he gets dirty a lot lmao

Piper sings to Leo to calm them both down in the evening sometimes, not sure what songs she normally sings but they're like calm songs yk or maybe she just makes something up. Sometimes seh puts his name in the song lol

#heroes of olympus #platonic liper #liper #leo valdez #piper mclean #i love them so much #heroes of olympus headcanon

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sailoryooons · 11 months ago

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100 Drabble Challenge

Welcome to my 100 Drabble Challenge m. list! This year, @gimmethatagustd and I are challenging ourselves to write 100 drabbles together throughout the year. For my challenge, I will be using a random number generator to select from our compiled list of tropes that also have a number assigned to them for my drabbles each week!

All 100 drabbles will be split as equally as I can for each member, which means roughly each member will have a total (give or take some) of fourteen drabbles each at the end of the year. My goal is to do 2-3 drabbles a week!

This challenge was inspired by this post about 100 different AUs.

☾ Ask ☾ Main Masterlist ☾ List of Tropes ☾

Note: Drabbles will not use a tag list.

S - Smut | A - Angst | F - Fluff | DD - Dead Dove | H/C - Hurt/Comfort

COMING SOON...

Playing games with vampires is a bad idea. Playing with Spiders is worse.

The Underneath | Thriller | Horror | Monster!Jimin x reader (gn) | Completed

“Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.” – Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil OR there is a monster under your bed and you've looked back at it for too long

Taehyung has lived thousands of lives. He has recognized his soulmate in every single one of them, a gift of his bloodline. Finally, he has crossed paths with his soulmate once again.

Bust | Smut | PWP | Heistman!Taehyung x f. reader | Completed

Seeing a beautiful man in the middle of a bank robbery is unusual. Seeing him again afterward is even more unlikely… and yet not unlucky.

Jungkook isn’t boyfriend material – except when he is.

Notice: This blog is against using artificial intelligence or any AI platform under any circumstances. You do not have my consent to share my works, words, or any content on this blog with AI under any circumstances.

Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. BTS members are not BTS culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

#100 drabble challenge #yes sorry u get another masterlist but there's no way i'm putting 100 drabbles on my main m list

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scnders · 9 months ago

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edit: closed for now so i don't get overwhelmed! hi everyone! i'm pretty new to posting ads for 1x1 rp-ing but i have a lot of muse for writing a variety of plots! a little bit of info about me is that i'm 25+, s/her pronouns, open to m/m, f/f and m/f. as for timezone and activity, i'm in the gmt + 8 timezone and i would say i'm pretty active unless i'm working (i have a corporate job) or hanging out with friends during weekends. there are also some days when my writing muse is low of course so please do understand. (when you have those days i'll definitely be understanding as well!) i'm looking to find 1x1 partners who are at least 23+ on discord. i'm an oc type of girl who plays both male and female ocs. definitely more experienced writing male ocs, but i like having a good mix. i would hope the same for my rp partners as well! i definitely can do semi-lit to novella depending on muse or brain juice. also! i would like to practice writing nsfw since i haven't done so in a while. below the cut you'll find more information about tropes, fcs i like to use and etc. like this post if you want me to approach you for your discord! or you can message me with yours!

just some general info:

be clear when communicating especially if you have no muse for a certain plot/thread! i would appreciate it rather than being ghosted.

please put in the same or enough effort when it comes to plotting/headcannons and etc. i promise to do the same or inform you if i don't have enough brain power to come up with things.

i love angst and fluff is definitely fine too as a bit of a palate cleanser.

my only trigger is descriptive self-harm but there are some taboo topics i am really not comfortable writing despite not being triggered.

some fcs i rp/would like to: song kang, park solomon, ateez san, txt's yeonjun, the boyz younghoon and hyunjae, svt's jeonghan and jun, bright vachirawit, bibi, youha, fromis_9 jiwon, noze, twice's sana, kiss of life's julie han, billie's haram, kitty chicha, kwon nara and honestly many more. also open to suggestions!

some tropes/genres/what have you ideas:

grumpy x sunshine, best friends to lovers (pining premium, both are idiots, drops the 'bro' and 'no homo'), fake dating (for dumb reasons like i need to make myself look desirable because people think i've been bitchless for years which yes i have been But), meet ugly, enemies to lovers, exes to friends to lovers, rivals (especially for like royalty aus), high fantasy, supernatural, revenge, royalty, reincarnation, 25 lives (the poem by tongari), blind date gone wrong, based on anime/movies/series, storybook characters with a twist and a plot like hotel del luna where they're wandering souls staying at a super fancy hotel, vampires, merfolk and etc... that's a lot i realized.

specific plot ideas:

business partners who are also fwbs. two people who match in every aspect from financial status, looks, in the bedroom etc.. have tried to make it work in the romance department but it just left them frustrated but they try again

final girl who's trying to recover from the horrors of what happened (we can base it off of a movie) who accidentally falls for a serial killer

i have more i Swear this post is just getting too long fr pls don't cancel me

#discord rp #discord 1x1 #1x1 discord #discord krp

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amethystwrytes · 5 months ago

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About Me/M. List

💜Amethyst is the name. (She/Her)

💜Playing it cool since 1989

💜I love about a billion different kinds of music, but this blog honestly is just a KPop worship station for me. You’ll see a lot of BTS, like A LOT, but also plenty more groups mixed in the stew.

💜I don’t like interacting with minors. I can’t stop them from finding and consuming my content, it’s the internet and it is what it is BUT I really don’t need nor do I want to know that they’re all up in my biz. So all I ask is that if you’re under 18, please don’t interact ✌🏼🫶🏼

💜I don’t plagiarize material and am very much not a fan. Every story listed below is mine, from my silly little brain, and I need you to respect that. Intellectual property is a thing, so please do not copy, repost, or translate my stories (as if you’d want to tbh🤭) as your own or without explicit permission. And honestly just don’t do it to anyone, because eventually someone will realize and then the internet will just tear your ass up and nobody wants that. Ick.

💜Despite those last two bullet points I’m actually really chill. I love to chat about pretty much anything but I am pretty introverted until I feel comfortable with someone, then it’s hard to shut me up 😂. So if we’re moots and you’re wondering why I’ve never reached out - it’s probably because I’m scared of you and think I’ll annoy you to no end. Maybe I’m not that chill actually 🤔😂😂😂

💜Requests? You can send them to me at any time, but I can’t promise I’ll write it. Still, it’s fun to read and create scenarios with one another so feel free to hash it out in my ask box or through DMs!!

💜Need a Beta Reader? Hi🙋🏻‍♀️ I’d be more than happy to read through and try and help you. Not to toot my own horn but I do have a dusty lil English Degree in a box somewhere and I used to work in the uni library and help edit term papers 💅 DM me anytime for help.

💜When I write random things that are on my mind, personal, non KPop or dessert related I use the tag “amethoughts” - if you have no interest in those thoughts then you can block that tag if you’d like to.

Masterlist

1. “If I Had Asked” — Jungkook x Gender Neutral Reader. Summary: Jungkook wants to catch up at a mutual friends birthday party. Genre: Romantic. Hurt. Comfort. Fluff. Exes to lovers. Oneshot. Rating: E for everyone babe. There’s some alcohol and marijuana but I mean, nothing weird or crazy happens.

2. “Hard to Handle” — Jungkook x Female Reader. Summary: You’re starting to want a little more from your FWB buddy. Genre: Romance. Smut. F2L. Oneshot. Rating: 18+.

3. “Imaginary Games” — Taehyung x Female Reader. Summary: The only thing that could make a destination wedding - in which you're the maid of honor, who has to give a speech in front of a crowd, who has to wear a dress that cost you a pretty penny that you'll never wear again - worse is the fact that your cheating ex is the best man. Genre: Romantic, Smut, Exes to Lovers, Smidge of Hurt. Oneshot. Rating 18+.

1. “Of Course, Professor” — Minho x Female Reader. Summary: The law professor everyone is scared of generously offers to help you with your school work. Genre: Smut. Romantic-ish. Basically just porn with a hint of plot tossed in. Oneshot. Rating 18+. [Bonus Drabble. Also 18+.]

2. “Safe.” - Hyunjin x Fem Reader x Minho. Summary: A broke ER Nurse offers up her services to a large crime organization in exchange for much higher pay and benefits that are unconventional, but lucrative. The life proves to be questionable at best, and downright isolating at worst which leaves her feeling unsure, unstable and dangerous. Genre: Crime. Romance. Drama. Mafia AU. Series. Rating: 18+ (MDNI).

#about me #masterlist #navigation #amethoughts #pinned

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voxofthevoid · 1 year ago

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Forever off anonymous am I. Anyway, I noticed some of the folders have pictures in them, so I'm picking from those. Number 52 I am my mother's child (I'll love you till my breathing stops), or if someone has already asked for that, Number 26 and with every step forward put a little more sword in your heart. Please and thank you <3

The illuminated void welcomes thee ✨

The pictures are generally reference images; whenever I go, "surely I will remember this pose/art/post," I end up regretting it because my memory is kinda fickle.

And you get both! Especially because 52 is gonna be...something of an acquired taste.

Title: and every step forward put a little more sword in your heart (from “The Grey” by Bad Omens)

Ship: Nanami/Yuuji, Gojou/Yuuji (both endgame)

CWs: None, for once. Yuuji's over 18 in this.

Premise: Canon divergence where Shibuya doesn't happen because Gojou burned Getou's body (which is my go-to rationale for no-Shibuya AUs) and is considerably more fucked up because of it. The Tokyo trio live to graduate, they celebrate it, and Nanami spends the aftermath playing human handkerchief to an extremely drunk Yuuji, who's sobbing into his neck about his teacher being too pretty. Nanami takes him to his own place to sleep it off, they fuck it off instead, and Nanami's attempt to be all "this can never happen again" about it devolves into an FWB arrangement with absolute shit communication. Yuuji's still in love with Gojou; Gojou is oblivious until he really, really isn't. This is a three-part monster of an idea that will cover Nanami PoV, Yuuji PoV, and Gojou PoV, in that order, assuming I ever write it.

Inspiration: You know how Part 1 of the deaging series leans heavily into platonic Nanami&Yuuji. Well, I wound up liking their relationship so much that it stopped being platonic, leading to this idea. It was also the start of my descent into Yuuji multishipping hell. I've since discovered that nothing—absolutely nothing, no relationship dynamic—is safe from me if I'm invested enough; this will be relevant for #52.

Title: i am my mother's child (i'll love you till my breathing stops) (from “Writer in the Dark” by Lorde)

Ship: Kenjaku/Yuuji, Gojou/Yuuji (goyuu endgame)

CWs: Incest, underage, human experimentation, body horror, monsterfucking

Premise: Pre-canon where Kenjaku pays their favorite child a few in-person visits, finds that Yuuji's body is rejecting Sukuna's fingers, and lets their scientific curiosity run a little wilder than usual. The end result is a Yuuji who's more curse than human, nigh indestructible, has a few extra prehensile limbs, and is also furious at his "mother." Since Kenjaku's got important plans of chaos to execute and can't babysit their monsterfied kid, they put Yuuji to sleep, stash him away, and fuck off to arrange the Shibuya Incident (a few years delayed, probably). Gojou finds Yuuji while investigating unusual curse activity. Cue tentacle sex and Gojou acquiring a new "pet."

Inspiration: This was the collision of two separate urges. One, my interest in Kenjaku's connection to Yuuji growing to the point I wanted to write about it, except I can't write genfic to save my life. Two, my desire to write tentacle!goyuu that's not an AU. I've done that for MCU, and it's fun, but it's way more rewarding to find some way to work in freaky sex into canonverse. And Kenjaku is my go-to plot point when I need to put Yuuji through the horrors, but this time, I figured I'd make it a hell of a more hands-on. Two birds with one stone.

Thanks for asking 💝

#otterlycosplay #wip open season #i love my anons #my fic #fic: a little more sword in your heart #fic: i am my mother's child #jjk snippets

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the-boy-meets-evil · 2 years ago

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tell me how it got this way | ch.5

pairing: jungkook x f.reader, hoseok x f.reader genre: fwb to lovers/friends to lovers, love triangle | angst, smut, fluff | non-idol!au chapter rating: mature, minors dni warnings: drinking, mentions of sex (nothing explicit), jimin is a little shit (affectionate), swearing, i think that's it word count: ~6k a/n: other idols pop up in this chapter (ateez & seventeen), they're really just used as names. ages aren't relevant and you can assume they're all generally around the same age. the final part (at least for what i have planned) is also finished and i'm going to post that next week! prev | masterlist | next

When Namjoon had initially pitched the idea of selling the movie rights for your books, your answer was immediate. No. Movies rarely, actually, came out as good as the books and you felt like you lost so much of the finer detail. If you had wanted to see your work on the big screen, you would be writing screenplays instead of full-length novels. Which, okay, that sounded pretentious even in your head, but whatever. Namjoon got the picture and the conversation was tabled temporarily.

About two months after that, Namjoon had found what he called a compromise. You weren’t sure how it was a compromise since it was your work and you didn’t want to sell the rights. Until Namjoon reminded you that the publishing company also had a stake. Point: Namjoon. It was a good point, though, because a streaming service wanted to pick up the rights to just the first book as a test and do a limited-run series as opposed to a movie. Namjoon was very clear on the differences here. The budget, in some ways, would definitely be smaller, you aren’t looking at big superstar names, and, most importantly, you have to either sign on as a co-writer for the screenplays or fully sign the rights over. They were fine with either option, they just knew that there wasn’t enough in your book for the standard 8-10 episodes.

And that answer was just as immediate. Yes. These were the kinds of chances that authors hoped for. Yes, it will still be different from the book. This just gives you much more leeway to include the important details and even flush characters out more in a way that’s just too much for a book. You’re not Stephen King over here releasing his “unedited” version of The Stand, which, if you’re being honest, was kind of (read: insanely) self-indulgent. Not that you’re comparing yourself to Stephen King, either. To each their own and all that.

So, with Namjoon’s guidance, you signed a deal where you’d co-write the episodes with a team who actually have a lot of experience doing just that. Really, you know you’re just there to keep everything true to the world that’s lived in your head for years. That’s why they want you. Some people will stumble onto this show never having heard of the books (and Namjoon hopes it’ll make them buy a copy), but others will tune in expecting it to come off the same way they’ve been imagining, for characters to make decisions that feel authentic.

You actually kind of loved the writing sessions. It was really amazing to see how things came together and to be in a room where you didn’t need to shout to be heard. Everyone there was genuinely interested in your feedback, and you tried to be conscious of when to just let the process unfold. It was collaborative in the best way. The only hard thing was keeping it all under wraps from almost everyone. The whole team had decided that they wouldn’t announce the news until the rough copies of the scripts were finished enough to move on to casting.

Now, that you’re having to sit through casting auditions, you’re rethinking your entire life that has led to this moment. No, that is not dramatic. You gave the casting team literal pages on pages for every character that needed to have any sort of significant role in the show and had even worked with someone for fucking *mood boards* for the main characters. There were days when you barely slept because you had to churn things out for casting. All so you could turn the rough scripts into final copies. What else did they want from you?

To sit through casting calls, apparently. So fine. You can eat craft services with the best of them.

After a few days, you do start to see the point in it all, see the times when the casting team liked two people for a particular part and looked to you as the deciding factor. While it felt like a lot of pressure, it also allowed you to make sure everything felt right. It was never just about physical appearance, that was always fluid. You also didn’t want Kristen Stewart in the Twilight movies with one damn expression the entire time. (No shade to Kristen Stewart, it just wasn’t anyone’s best look in those movies).

The one positive is that you’ve managed to meet a few people you actually kind of like. And, okay, yeah, they’re mostly assistants to some of the more important people in the process, but those people are stuffy and very unlikely to gossip with you around the water cooler. Since you’ve never had a normal office job, this is a very important part of actually getting to work with people. Namjoon scoffs a lot at this, says that it’s probably good that you haven’t had a normal office job. He spends a lot of time letting you know actual office jobs aren’t anything like sitcoms, which is funny considering the office where he works. Maybe he doesn’t gossip around the water cooler, but you’ve definitely seen the assistants gathering. Even heard his name come up a time or two. Heard how attractive they all seem to think he is. They’re not wrong.

Your new friends are also the type of people who insist that you absolutely have to join them when they decide happy hour is the perfect way to end the day. As San points out, you have the morning off tomorrow anyway. When you ask why it would matter if it was just happy hour, Wooyoung promptly elbows San hard in the ribs and says it doesn’t. You don’t miss the conspiratorial look on their faces, but fuck it. Happy hour sounds good.

Your head is pounding and it feels like you got hit by a freight train. You don’t even remember getting that drunk the night before. The whole evening is kind of a blur of shots and bright lights and off-key karaoke. It was just supposed to be happy hour, which you learned quickly was your first mistake. There was no such thing as just happy hour with San, Wooyoung, and their insanely chaotic group of friends. And as the sleep is wearing off, something else creeps in. There is an arm draped over you. You’re not alone in your bed. Peeking one eye open, you’re immediately struck with the fact that these aren’t your walls, not your sheets, this isn’t your bed. You’re praying on everything that you don’t believe in that the arm belongs to one of the other people you’d gone out with the night before. You remember thinking one of Wooyoung’s friends was cute and tall and smiley, a little flirty and a little shy too. And then you see the hands. And the rings. With a careful glance back, you confirm it’s Hoseok, shirtless (you don’t need to check if it’s wearing anything else).

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

It’s rushing back. You quickly learned San and Wooyoung had no intention of letting you go after just happy hour. They were all convinced you were too stressed and that what you really needed was a patented WooSan (yes, they had a couple name, despite not actually being in a relationship) night of fun. You briefly considered protesting, but really, what was the point? And fuck, they weren’t wrong.

So happy hour turned into multiple stops. Wooyoung was on a karaoke mission and although you had never heard him sing, you instinctively thought drunken karaoke was never a good idea. (You were wrong, he had the voice of an angel to match his personality of the devil.) Karaoke meant meeting up with more of their friends. And somehow, because fate was cruel, one of their friends had brought along his friend Hoseok. You remember staring at him like a deer in headlights before declaring everything was fine and hitting the shots. There also may have been a lot of flirting with Wooyoung’s tall friend with the shy smile whose name you couldn’t remember.

Now, in the light of day, it was not fine. You gingerly slide out from underneath his arm and carefully get out of the bed, tiptoeing over to what you can only hope and assume is a bathroom, phone snatched off the nightstand on the way. You’re thanking drunk you for not making it harder to find.

Once you’re in the safety of the bathroom, you sink down to the floor and take a couple of breaths. You’re not sure if it’s the hangover rearing its ugly head or just the situation you’ve found yourself in.

You: Yoongi are you up? You: Please be up, I need you! You: This is important! Like one of those most important things in the world.

Yoongi isn’t answering and you’re starting to panic. You need someone to talk you through this. So you call him, knowing that it might get his attention. The first call goes to voicemail and so you try again. This time after the second ring you hear him grunt a frustrated “what?” and then hang up.

Yoongi: What the fuck? You call twice and hang up on me? You: Because I need you

Missed call from Yoongi

Yoongi: Then answer the fucking phone You: I *can’t* You: Yoongi, I fucked up, like really fucked up Yoongi: What’s going on? You: I went out drinking last night and ugh I did something really fucking stupid Yoongi: Whatever it is, it’s not that serious You: I just woke up next to Hobi… You: Like I’m in fucking university again Yoongi: … Yoongi: I’m going back to bed, you’re being dramatic You: I’m *not* this is SERIOUS Yoongi: It’s not that serious You: I’ve spent 5 years trying to get over the way he treated me, so yeah it’s a big deal Yoongi: it’s just drunken sex and I’m tired You: oh my god, give the phone to Jimin Yoongi: Just text him You: Yoongi, please

You stare at the phone and try to figure out what else to say when the screen lights up again.

Yoongi: I have a very grumpy boyfriend You: Jimin, thank god Yoongi (Jimin): what is it my little problem child? You: Just read up Yoongi (Jimin): You bitch, you went out and got drunk and didn’t invite me? You: Jimin can we focus please? Yoongi (Jimin): Who did you go out with? You: Is this really the time? Yoongi (Jimin): I’m waiting You: Fuck Jimin, just some people that are working on the show You: Now can we please talk about this colossal mistake? Yoongi (Jimin): I’ll be there to pick you up and take your hungover ass to get breakfast, which is more than you deserve since you went out WITHOUT ME You: Thank you and I will never go out without inviting you again Yoongi (Jimin): Better

You’ve taken way too long in the bathroom and you know there’s a chance Hoseok will be awake now. But you can’t bring yourself to leave the bathroom until you get the text from Jimin that he’s downstairs. Bless him for being an absolute angel, even when it’s his horns keeping the halo upright.

Despite being a colossal pain in the ass about nearly everything in life, Jimin does actually come through and take you to one of the best meals you’ve ever had. Or maybe you’re just that hungover. You don’t really know. He’s also somehow managed to bring you a change of clothes (which, you’re not really sure if they’re actually yours or where they came from, but the outfit looks remarkably put together) and makeup so you don’t have to go all the way home. You try to ask why he’s so prepared and he only gives a vague answer about how you didn’t know him before Yoongi and smirks. You’re immediately filing that away for another day when you do remember to invite Jimin out to drink with you and whatever group you’ve been dragged into.

When Jimin drops you off at the studio (another point to Jimin) where your car is still conveniently parked from the night before, you’re feeling and looking significantly more human. You know you owe him, he doesn’t have to say it. But he’s Park Jimin so he says it anyway and you just smile.

The auditions feel a little less tedious with a stomach full of greasy food the day after a much-needed night out (where you will be pretending that you did not fuck Hoseok again). You’re looking for some more minor characters today. If things go well and you end up doing a second season based on the second book, they could play a much bigger role. For now, though, it’s still small.

Realistically, you’re not hungry because Jimin really did hook you up. Then again, the food is there and it’s free, so you’re looking over to decide what you might actually want to try. Someone approaches the other side of the table, looking tentative. You immediately recognize him as one of the guys you pointed out as fitting the right look for one of your characters. He was sweet, kind of endearing, but with really striking features.

“Hey, I just wanted to introduce myself,” he says and you look up. “I’m Chan.”

“I remember,” you say and you’re being honest. You were insistent that he be kept around to audition.

“Wow, I didn’t think…well that’s great. I’m excited to get the chance. Thank you so much,” Chan says and you realize this might be a big deal for him.

“No problem, you just remind me of him,” you say.

“I was talking to my dance teacher before the first audition,” Chan starts and you raise an eyebrow. “Oh, I know this isn’t a dancing part, I just like to take the classes.”

“That’s fair,” you say.

“And I was really worried about the audition and how it would go,” Chan says. “But my dance teacher, he’s awesome, he said he had gone to school with you and used to be friends with you and all that and that you were really nice.”

That one statement brought you up completely short. What the fuck?

“Who’s your dance teacher?” You already know the answer because really, who else could it be? Still, you need to hear him say it.

“Oh, Jung Hoseok,” Chan says quickly and you force a smile. “Do you remember him? He gave me all this great advice about the audition and said he’d try to reach out to you if it made me feel better. He’s so nice.”

“Yeah, he was. It’s been ages since I’ve spoken to him though,” you say, hoping that you succeed in the attempt at nonchalance.

“Yeah, he said that. I think he was just trying to help me feel better, offering to reach out,” Chan agrees. “I get it though. You’ve had so much success as a writer, so it makes sense you wouldn’t still talk to everyone from college. It’s so cool they’re turning your book into a series and you’re so young!”

“I feel like I’ve been writing for like 20 years with how much it ages me sometimes,” you say to distract yourself from thinking of Hoseok.

“I actually…read all the books when they came out, I’m a big fan,” Chan says and blushes like it’s embarrassing to admit. You think it’s sweet. One of the PAs calls out for you, though.

“Good luck today, Chan. It’s been really great speaking to you,” you say and excuse yourself.

Honestly, you can’t believe the audacity of fucking Jung Hoseok to say what he had to this poor kid. Playing it off like he knows you, making it seem like you just used to be friends. And what was he thinking, offering to reach out to you on behalf of this kid?

That’s when a truly sickening thought settles into your brain. Takes root in a way that you know you can’t shake it. One of those intrusive thoughts that shouldn’t ever exist. Was that what this all was? Is this why he reached out? Does he just want to help one of his dancers get a role in your new series? That would be seriously fucked up if that was the case. And you hate thinking he could be capable of something like that. The reality is that you used to know Hoseok, while the guy who wrecked you was a complete stranger and there’s no way of knowing which one had shown up now.

The rest of the day is kind of a wash from a concentration standpoint. You’re a million miles away and thankfully, nobody seems to call you on it. You’re not sure if it’s because they’ve worked with writers before that had their heads in the clouds or because you’re still answering all the questions asked of you. Either way, you’re not really there at all.

Over the next day or so, you decide the best way forward is to continue ignoring Hoseok (despite him texting you multiple times wanting to talk about what happened after karaoke). Instead of talking to Hoseok, you do the completely rational thing and talk to every other person you trust. How can you decide on the next move without multiple opinions?

You can’t.

Yoongi is first up and he’s exceptionally grumpy since you woke him up before he was ready to be a person. It may not have been that early by normal human standards, but Yoongi is only part human and part gremlin, you think, so he’s never really followed normal hours. Once he’s done being grumpy, he takes his time being thoughtful. As far as he sees it, this was just some drunken sex. It isn’t like Hoseok actually asked for anything, that you remember. And you insist you remember everything from the night. For all you know, it was just stress relief for both of you. No point in getting worked up.

Since Jimin is there and incapable of being ignored, he also gets to weigh in. Which is welcome, actually, because Jimin can be really calculating when he wants to be. He asks a lot of questions, both about the guy you were friends with and the fight that ended it all. You’re just about ready to call this conversation a day when Jimin says he doesn’t think it sounds like something malicious. There’s only one way to know for sure, though, and he suggests that you just talk to Hoseok like an adult with multiple published books and a streaming deal. There’s Park Jimin for you.

Part of you wants to ask Namjoon, but thinks better of it. The Affair incident is fresh in your mind and you really don’t need to give him another reason to question your sanity. There are enough of those just in everyday life. And you just had to relive the entire fight with Jimin so you’re not too eager to explain all the backstory to Namjoon.

Which makes the final person you ask Jungkook. His opinion is so incredibly important to you, yet it’s the one that you’re least excited about getting. It means you also have to tell him about sleeping with Hoseok, a fact that you have carefully avoided. Not that you owe Jungkook every detail of your life, because you’re not actually in a relationship. It’s just that, sometimes, with how much you depend on each other, it feels like something more. Feels like it’s much more than just some friends-with-benefits type situation.

In true Jungkook fashion, he takes the news in stride and doesn’t linger on you fucking this stranger that reappeared at the Gala and hasn’t seemed to go away since then. He’s thoughtful, Hoseok has come up a lot in your conversations lately, so he doesn’t have to ask questions like Jimin. And you tell him how frustrating it was to answer them, anyway. There’s no escaping it when Jungkook comes to the same conclusion, though.

“Just talk to him,” Jungkook urges, “you’ll feel so much better being able to gauge his answer.”

“I’m really sorry,” you say and Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow at that.

“For what?” he asks.

“Getting drunk and making a stupid fucking mistake by fucking him,” you answer, avoiding his eyes.

“It’s really not a big deal for you and me,” Jungkook says.

“Are you sure?” you ask. You hate how small your voice sounds.

Jungkook closes the space between you and kisses the top of your head. “I’m sure. I’m here for whatever you need.”

This brings you to texting Hoseok.

And that brings you to sit down in a coffee shop with him, because apparently you can’t just text or go to each other’s apartment, like normal people. Which is nice too, actually, because it gives you a chance to see more of the city than just your apartment or the studio where you’ve been working. It allows you to people watch, see those rushing by in a haze mingled with those taking their time. Let’s your overactive imagination come up with a story for each of them.

You still aren’t even sure if you want to forgive Hoseok for everything that happened all those years ago. And with all the writing sessions and casting calls, you haven’t exactly had a lot of time to even think, let alone talk to anyone outside of your small circle. Which isn’t totally out of character, you’ve never been one for a huge circle of friends or social engagements. It just makes everything a little more complicated now as you’re trying to sort out feelings.

Hoseok beat you to the coffee shop this time, seemingly by a bit since he’s going to get his second cup just after you sit down. You spare a passing thought that maybe he’s nervous about talking to you. He certainly seems like he is. Weirdly it makes you less nervous. It makes you feel somehow more in control of the situation because you do know what you want to say.

“So,” Hoseok begins after he sits back down, “about the other night…”

“Actually, that isn’t exactly what I wanted to talk to you about,” you say, watching his eyes go wide.

“What?” he stutters out.

“I mean, I guess it’s kind of related? But also not,” you say. “I met Lee Chan at a casting call the other day.”

Whatever Hoseok was expecting, it’s not this. He tries to connect the dots for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “Okay? He’s a great kid, I’m glad he decided to go to the auditions after all.”

“That’s it?” You’re watching him for a reaction that just isn’t there. Maybe, despite The Fight, he’s still more or less the person you were friends with.

“I’m not sure what else to say about him,” Hoseok admits.

“Okay, cards on the table,” you say with a confidence you don’t entirely feel. “Did you show back up in my life to help your student get a part in my series?”

Hoseok chokes on his drink when the question comes out, turns into a coughing mess and takes a minute to clear his throat. “What the fuck? Is that what you think? Come on, you know me…”

“I don’t though, do I? Not anymore,” you disagree and there’s finally an emotion on his face that you can place: hurt. He’s hurt and you’re not sure how to feel about that. Your feelings about him are still so mixed up. A big part of you wants to comfort him, though. Which isn’t exactly the response you’d expected.

“Maybe I deserve that, but it still hurts,” Hoseok says. You chew your bottom lip while you think.

“It hurt to have the thought it was possible too, trust me,” you say. “But it was weird timing, you know? Chan introduced himself during his second audition, later the same day I woke up in your bed.”

“I would never sleep with you to help a student get something out of it,” Hoseok says earnestly. “I’d never sleep with you to get anything out of it.”

“I want to believe that,” you admit.

“I had no idea that you’d be there. Another guy from the studio who teaches but also takes my master classes is friends with your friends that invited you out. He asked if I wanted to come out, I wasn’t busy, so I figured why not?” Hoseok explains. “And then I wake up and you’re gone.”

“Hoseok,” you say, a quiet warning.

“Actually, I wake up and you’re sneaking out without saying anything,” he amends.

“I needed to not be there,” you say because it’s all you can say.

“I get that, I know you’re seeing someone, but we needed to talk about it,” Hoseok says.

“Yeah, Jungkook knows,” you say and feel your heart constrict a bit at the way Hoseok pales.

“What?” Hoseok asks. When you don’t say anything, he continues. “Please tell me you’re kidding, he looks like he could kick my ass and barely break a sweat.”

“He would never,” you disagree. “My…relationship, if you wanna call it that, with Jungkook isn’t exactly what you think? Like he’s not my boyfriend, we’re not exclusive or anything like that.”

“But you let me think you were?” He doesn’t look upset, just confused if anything.

“Yeah, I know,” you say and he’s still watching you carefully. “It was just easier and honestly, I didn’t feel like I owed you an explanation for my personal life after all these years.”

“I - yeah, okay, I guess I have to respect that,” Hoseok agrees. “But we still need to talk.”

“I’m not ready,” you say immediately, try not to feel anything when he deflates.

“I guess I just thought…since you asked to meet me,” Hoseok says, trailing off.

“I needed to know if you really just did that for a student,” you offer.

“You believe that I didn’t, right? That I wouldn’t?” Hoseok asks with so much hope that you’re not sure you can take it.

“I do, yeah,” you say. You’ve barely had time to process, but you know you do believe he wouldn’t do that. It’s about all you know when it comes to him now.

“I really do need you to know how sorry I am,” Hoseok says and you start to open your mouth, but he’s quicker. “Please, you don’t have to say anything, just let me say this? Please?”

He looks so much younger, so vulnerable for a moment. All you do is nod.

“I know sorry isn’t what you need to hear, I get that. I know that I can’t go back and change that fight and all the fucking stupid shit that I said. Stuff that I didn’t mean. And I do hear you that you’re not ready. I just want you to know that I’m so sorry,” Hoseok says.

You let out your breath. “I do know that Hobi, at least on some level.”

“I’ve, well I’ve done a lot of thinking about that day. I talked to a lot of people, both friends and a therapist, actually. There aren’t any excuses for what I did, no matter what was going on in my head. If I’ve learned anything over the past few years, it’s definitely that. So I want to make sure you know that when you are ready, if you’re ever ready, I won’t make any excuses. What happened was entirely my fault and I completely acknowledge that,” he says, so earnestly.

“I appreciate that,” you say because it’s all you really can think up.

This was supposed to clear your head up, which it has in some ways. You feel a little silly for even thinking that Hoseok would do something like sleep with you to help get someone he only kind of knows a role in a TV series. And you’re also questioning your friends since none of them pointed out you were having a full breakdown over a man. Not your finest moment.

But with that one, small thing cleared up, your mind immediately goes back to the bigger issue: Hoseok has reappeared in your life and you really need to figure out how you feel about that. You’ve missed him, of course. You’re not going to deny that very obvious truth. On top of that, you also very clearly have some sort of feelings for him. After all, you’re not stupid college kids anymore. It’s not like you can pretend the sex was meaningless.

Hoseok, showing some definite growth from your college days, accepts it when you say that you just can’t talk about all the very real things you need to right now. Accepts it when you say that you believe him but you have to go. Accepts that you’re running late for something. The only problem is that you’re not running late. It’s not like you actually planned for after your talk with him. It was too much to even think about how the conversation was going to go.

Now it’s over, though, and you don’t really want to go home to be alone with your thoughts. One of the few times that you don’t like that you live alone. Don’t like that you don’t have a built-in person that can just be there without you having to explain what you’re feeling or that you don’t want to be alone. Which is when your brain goes to Jungkook. He’s become that person that you go to when you don’t want to be alone or when you need to get out of your own head.

Except you’re not really sure that’s fair to him. Not really sure if seeing him right now is going to help you. Since the Gala, he’s been nothing but supportive and understanding. This is too much, though, isn’t it? Sure, you and he have never really wanted to bother labeling things, both just happy with the way things are. Things have naturally kind of evolved, but you haven’t stopped to talk about any of it. Sure, Jungkook always assures you that it’s fine, that he’s happy to be there whenever you need him.

The healthiest thing to do is go home and actually try to sort out your feelings. The second healthiest thing to do would be to call Yoongi and tell him that you actually need to talk to him (which you do, desperately, need his help).

None of the healthy options include texting Wooyoung to see if he’s got any plans that night. The healthy ways to process definitely don’t include agreeing to go out for happy hour knowing full well what that means with Wooyoung. At least this time, you invite Jimin to avoid one disaster.

(Jimin agrees to come and agrees to your terms that he’s not allowed to ask if you’re okay or if you want to talk. Agrees that he won’t tell Yoongi even if he thinks you’re making reckless decisions. He also finds a way to tell Wooyoung’s friend not to invite Hoseok this time without outing you. When you’re sober, you’ll probably thank Jimin. Maybe. There is always his ego to consider.)

“I feel like I’ve seen you around somewhere,” San muses, looking at Jimin.

Jimin just smiles his most mischievous smile and shrugs, taking a sip of his drink. “Probably.”

“Jimin is one of my best friends, he’s been by the studio a few times,” you say when it’s clear Jimin isn’t going to provide any more context. He sighs and rolls his eyes dramatically.

“I’m also dating her platonic soulmate, so she’s stuck with me,” Jimin adds and you snort.

“Is that what we’re calling Yoongi these days?” you ask. Jimin smiles a real smile, eyes crinkling.

“Honestly, yes, your friendship with him is so sweet, it makes me sick,” Jimin says with nothing but affection.

San seems satisfied and Wooyoung just looks enamored by anything Jimin says. Which is actually kind of cute because you can tell he’s not even interested in Jimin like that, just genuinely wants to be his friend. And you definitely get that. Jimin is one of the sweetest, most charismatic people that you know. Yes, he can be a devious little shit, but when he’s like this, it’s impossible to not like him.

That’s just kind of how the night goes. Thankfully, it’s not quite as crazy as the last time you went out with this group. You learn the tall guy’s name is Mingi and for some reason, he seems weirdly shy around you. It’s cute and he’s incredibly sweet. Jimin fits in seamlessly, which isn’t a surprise to you with how many times you’ve seen him like this.

What is a surprise, though, is that Jimin keeps demanding you get up and dance with him. Since, of course, happy hour turned into going someplace else. It wasn’t just Jimin that wanted to dance and now you were just along for the ride. He also insisted that you were a safe choice to dance with and also gave you a sob story about how Yoongi would never dance with him at the club.

(Probably true, crowds and people and this kind of thing were definitely not Yoongi’s first or second or even last choice. It’s also true that Jimin is a really amazing dancer and you’re a little intimidated by him. You’re also, thankfully, just buzzed enough to not really care.)

It’s the early hours of the morning when you finally head home, feeling a lot lighter than you had after leaving Hoseok. In fact, you haven’t checked your messages since meeting up with Jimin, Wooyoung, San, and the others. There’s something freeing about just putting everything on Do Not Disturb and enjoying the moment.

By the time you get out of the car at your apartment, the alcohol haze is already wearing off. Which ends up being a good thing when you open your door to see someone sitting on your couch. There’s a half second of panic, of your brain calculating fight or flight, before you realize that it’s just Jungkook. Sitting on your couch, watching TV like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“Jesus Christ, Jungkook,” you say, hand on your chest like you’re about to die. A little overdramatic, maybe, but your brain is still a little hazy around the edges.

“Sorry,” he says, eyes immediately going comically wide. “I didn’t mean to scare you!”

“No, it’s fine,” you say as you toe off your shoes and drop your keys and bag on the table by the door.

“I really am sorry,” he says. It’s easy to believe when he looks that bashful. “I don’t even know why I came over. I just, well I texted you after I got out of my shoot to see how things went and you didn’t answer.”

“Oh yeah, I went out for drinks with Jimin and some friends from the set,” you say and Jungkook nods.

“Yeah, he actually texted me,” Jungkook admits and you just chuckle. Of course he did, you think. “But I was already on my way over here and your apartment is more comfortable than mine. I can leave though?”

“No, it’s fine, it’s late,” you say as you collapse on the couch with him. “One rule, though.”

“What?” he asks.

“I don’t wanna talk about the conversation with Hobi right now,” you say quietly as you nestle into Jungkook’s side.

You miss the way that he tenses for a minute at the way the old nickname falls so easily from your lips. Miss the way it takes his arms a minute to wrap around you. Miss the way his face falls a little at you not wanting to talk to him about something.

“Of course, whatever you need,” Jungkook says.

You don’t hear the way his voice sounds a little hollow, a little less animated than it usually does. He wants to mean it, wants to keep being there for you however you need him. It’ll be fine, he tells himself. He can do this.

all of them are kinda going through it right now, but please let me know your thoughts <3

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