#when i realized bruno mars was in it i was like WHAT

[hueseok]

it was always you.

for as long as you remember, you’ve always had the fattest crush on your childhood friend, jeon jungkook. it never blossomed into something more though, because that’s what happens when life naturally takes it course—you grow up, you move on, and you pretend that those feelings never existed in order to maintain the good friendship that remained between the two of you over the years.

so when he visits you after work one day, asking you to marry him, you do everything you can to refuse, because the reason he’s asking you isn’t due to the fact that he finally realized that he loved you after all this time, but because he thinks he’s doing you a big favor.

or at least, that’s what you think.

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 13.2k

rating: 18+

content: fluff, semi-angst, childhood friends to lovers au, pining au | ft. naval aviator!jungkook + brother’s best friend!jungkook; professor!reader + editor!reader | inspired by purple hearts

warning/s: swearing, potentially wrong medical & military information (i’m sorry but i tried to do as much research i can 😭), mentions of having type 1 diabetes, making out, heavy petting, implied sexual content: oral (f. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (this is only fiction!)

MINI PLAYLIST: ♫ die with a smile — lady gaga, bruno mars ♫ juno — sabrina carpenter ♫ selfish — *nsync ♫ nandito na ako — benj pangilinan, angela ken

opening note. omg this is my first full length fic in two damn years i think??? certainly took a long time before i had the motivation to write again but i hope y'all like this! to my og readers who still keep up with my shenanigans, this one's for you 🥹💗

“Any questions?”

A boy wearing half-rimmed glasses raises his hand and you gesture for him to speak. “Can we get an extension on the Save the Cat project due tomorrow?”

You sigh, just as several of your students begin agreeing with him and muttering reasons of their own why the extension should be approved. It’s the week before finals, and you’re aware that the class must be packed with assignments and projects for several of their classes because of it, hence the rather last minute request. They look tired and pleading, a complete reflection of how you were when you were the one in their position nearly a decade ago, begging for an extension from a professor who you thought was kind enough to be swayed with the proposition.

You scan the crowd. “How many of you are at least 70% with it, hm?”

More than half of the class raises their hands.

“Okay, that’s honestly unexpected,” you say, pleased to know that they aren’t slacking on your subject. “Does Monday sound good? That’s three more days, to be fair. I don’t want to extend it further because I have to read everyone’s work and you guys know I don’t like rushing it before turning in your final grade.”

A chorus of relief and thanks echoed in the room, all of your students either dramatically sinking in their chair or erupting in an animated conversation with their seatmate or making crying faces to portray how grateful they are.

“Thank you so much, Ms. ____!”

“I love you, Ms. ____!”

“Ms. ____, I will offer my first child to you,” one theatrically adds and you smile a bit, rolling your eyes at students like this one who is now opting to flatter you way too much for your act of kindness.

“Alright, alright. Just get it done and I’m expecting quality work, okay? Class dismissed.”

The whole class begins to gather their things at the cue and you don’t stay there a minute longer after your announcement, exiting the lecture hall to head to the faculty room where you’re certain half of the teaching staff have gone home already. It’s already 8:47 p.m., and all you want to do is head home to get the rest you deserve after an eventful day.

There was a time that having a schedule from 6 p.m. to 9 p.m. wasn’t the norm for you. You used to value work life balance so much—it was even a nonnegotiable you used to say in interviews, saying that if you didn’t get enough rest within the week, then the job most likely wasn’t for you. But things have been very different for the past months; you have definitely grown out of that mindset due to the fact that you’re simply in need of another source of income to pay for your monthly rent, utility bills, and now your medication. You’re in a stage of your life wherein you consider working part time as a professor was a blessing rather than a big nuisance.

Making a right turn to where the hallway to the faculty room is, you’re too busy rearranging the papers inside the folder you’re holding to notice a man sitting on the bench placed just beside the entrance. He notices you the second you appear in his line of vision though; he straightens his posture and proceeds on standing up immediately upon seeing you closer, calling your name softly when you failed to look at his direction, too preoccupied with the thought of finally coming home that you’re oblivious that the man trying to catch your attention is Jeon Jungkook.

“____,” he calls again and this time you notice him, your eyes widening instantly.

“Holy shi—” You stop yourself from finishing that sentence. “Jungkook?”

He grins. “Hey, lamb chop.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Is that how you greet an old friend?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

He laughs, following suit to you who’s already giggling just by his presence alone, outstretching his arms then. “You gonna hug me or what?”

You beam and step forward to embrace him. He returns it without hesitation, muscular arms circling around you and squeezing tightly that it lifts you up from the ground for a quick second. The faint smell of fabric conditioner on his clothes enters your nostrils and you feel like a teenager again, warmth rushing to your face while your heart hammers loudly in your chest. Regardless of how old the both of you are, you think your hopeless crush on the guy will forever live on and constantly transform you into a middle school girl whenever opportunities like these to have him near arise. You’re just happy you’ve trained yourself to be better at hiding it now compared to when you were younger.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in base or wherever it is that you’re designated?” you ask, the first to let go from the hug.

“Actually, I returned from deployment three days ago. I’m on leave for two weeks.”

“Wow. Two weeks, huh?”

“Yep. It’s the longest break I’ve gotten in a while.”

“That’s good. Everybody needs a break from time to time.”

“Says the girl has a day job and a night job.” He points out with a smirk; your heart does a little leap at how handsome he looks doing that. “When the hell did you get into teaching, by the way? I never pegged you to be the kind who can tolerate it. You hate kids.”

“You’ll find yourself tolerating lots of things in this economy.” You snort. “And my students aren’t kids. They’re in college.”

“Yeah, which you graduated from six years ago. Still technically kids.”

“Are you seriously jabbing at my age when you’re two years older than I am?”

He rolls his eyes at that one, an indication that you won the argument. “Anyway,” he starts again and you grin, “I didn’t come here to compare how old we are—”

“You didn’t?”

He sends you a look. Your grin gets even wider.

“I’m here because I was hoping to treat you to dinner.”

“Dinner?” you repeat, not masking the surprise from your voice.

Let’s get the facts straight before we proceed to this conversation.

It isn’t a lie when you say that you and Jungkook are great friends. You have been since you were 7 and your family just moved into the house next to theirs. He was a natural playmate, a companion when you couldn’t tolerate the antics of your older brother, the boy who looked out for you aside from said older brother, and the person you’ve shared significant history with throughout your youth that you can never seem to forget nor disregard.

It’s just that you never deemed that you were great enough friends for him to go out of his way and visit you at your workplace, offering to treat you for dinner. Gestures like that were reserved for your older brother, Seowon, who’s the same age as he is and who you’re sure is considered as his best friend. Compared to them, yours and Jungkook’s dynamic shifted slightly after graduating from college. What once was a really close friendship turned into a casual one, with mostly just teasing, light talks, and the occasional welfare checks at times you hear certain news from the other that’s worth speaking directly about.

At the mention of that, realization dawns on you on why he must be here.

“Jungkook…” You’re trying not to sound mad but you can’t hide the exasperation from your voice. “That’s not the real reason you’re here.”

“Of course, it is. Why else would I be here?”

“He told you, didn’t he?” you ask, not willing to drag this out. “You’re just going to give me another lecture that I definitely don’t need.”

Jungkook frowns, like he’s dismayed that you caught on pretty swiftly.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” You pressed.

“He meant well, ____.”

You scowl. To remark that Seowon is unnecessarily nosy and coddling would be an understatement. That man hasn’t left you alone the second he was aware of your condition. Usually, whenever he gets into his ‘big brother tendencies’, his girlfriend Winnie steps in and helps you lay him off your back. However, it’s different this time; no matter how much you reinstill your independence and insist that you’re fine, it’s like you’re talking to a wall.

“What exactly did you hear from him?” you query.

He seems hesitant in answering that. “That you got diagnosed with type 1 diabetes.”

You wince.

“Look,” he steps forward towards you, “I wasn’t going to bring it up unless you did, okay? I’m just here because I’m genuinely worried about you and I want to know how you’re doing.”

“I’m fine.” You murmur. “You don’t need to worry.”

“Worry doesn’t vanish magically just because someone says so.”

“Well, it should—because I’m fine.”

“You sure? I heard that you’re struggling to buy insulin among other things you’re having a hard time paying.”

“Fuck. Seowon told you that too? That’s private.”

“My parents know. He just filled me in because he wants you to have as much support as you can get.”

“I don’t need that. I’m an adult. I’ve lived by myself for years. I can fend for myself just fine.”

“It doesn’t look like it from what I’ve been hearing.”

“All you’re hearing is a warped and exaggerated version of the story told by Seowon who won’t listen to a word I say.” You huff. “I’m fine and I’ve been doing everything I can, alright? I’m taking care of myself. I’m going to the doctor whenever I need to. I’m making ends meet, buying treatment for this goddamn disease and regulating my sugar levels all the fucking time. Why do you think I’ve been working two jobs for the past year? It’s because I’m doing everything I can to stay alive.”

Jungkook doesn’t reply, he only remains gazing at you.

“If you’re here to offer me money or whatever because of what he said,” you add, already embarrassed that you can’t even look at him anymore, “then I don’t want it.”

“That’s not what I’m here for,” he says.

“Then are you really just here to treat me to dinner?” you question sarcastically.

He laughs and you dare return your eyes at him, catching him peering at you with a fond expression. “Yes. It’s my way of doing a welfare check.”

“Welfare check.” You echo with squinted eyes. “Well, in that case, here I am—alive and healthy.”

“I can see that, and I’m glad.” He smiles. “But I need more than just seeing you. I need a conversation and an apology.”

“An apology?”

“For being the last person to know about your condition.”

“And we’re still talking about that apparently.” You mutter under your breath. “Sorry. I didn’t think that you wanted to know.”

“Of course, I would have wanted to know. It’s you we’re talking about here.”

Something about how he said you causes your lips to twitch as you fight off a smile. This isn’t a good time to dive into your romantic feelings for your childhood crush, but when he’s letting go of lines like that which are sure to have your heart soaring out of your chest, it’s hard to keep on a cool and unfazed facade. You just convince yourself that he sees you as a little sister and that’s why he’s so worried; you should already be past your ‘delulu’ phase at this age to be affected by such statements.

“I didn’t want to add to your worries,” you reason. “You already have your life to think about. Add to the fact that you’re a naval aviator—so you literally have your own life first to think about.”

“I can make space for you.”

Is he flirting? Is this a normal thing to say between friends?

You blink. “Okay, uh, that’s… that’s completely up to you, I guess.”

“I just like knowing those things first hand. It makes me worry less.”

“Got it. Next time I learn I’m dying, I’ll tell you.”

“____,” he says your name in warning, and you know he’s serious.

“Sorry.” You heat up. “I couldn’t resist.”

“Don’t be a pain in the ass.”

“I promise that’ll be the last time I make a dark joke, Lieutenant.”

Jungkook’s nostrils flare. You prevent yourself from grinning like a fool again in success of getting on his nerves.

“Are you done here? Because I’m hungry and would really like to get going now.” He changes the subject and gestures to the faculty.

“Yeah. I’ll just get my things and then I can get out of here.”

“Great. You’re letting me take you to dinner, right?” 

“Do I have a choice?”

“No.”

“Fine.” You deadpan.

This time, he’s the one who’s beaming at you. “I’ll wait for you here and we can go.”

“Okay.”

****

When Jungkook discovered that you had type 1 diabetes through a phone call with Seowon, he spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, ignoring the snores of his squadmates and overthinking what’s supposed to happen to you now that you had an autoimmune disease which he was told didn’t have a cure. He was assured that you were okay despite it, that there was medication to treat it, and that you had access to them and have been very careful with your lifestyle due to the diagnosis ever since.

He still couldn’t be put to ease though. As ridiculous as it may sound, he had this overwhelming realization that life truly was short, that you had to make certain decisions all the time because you need to adjust to what the universe is only willing to give you. It was funny coming from a person who risked his life for a living. He thinks that perhaps he never understood the philosophy of the quote ‘time is gold’ until he had a loved one on the same trajectory, always one step closer to possible death.

And so that same night, he decided to file a leave for two weeks, effective immediately after his deployment. 

He wasn’t sure what his game plan was exactly in filing that two-week leave. Was he supposed to barge in your life and force you to let him take care of you? Was he supposed to demand why you ended up having diabetes? Was he supposed to act as a big brother like your actual big brother because he was that worried about you? But if Jungkook was going to be truthful, he already had an idea on what he wanted to do in the back of his head—he just didn’t want to execute it because it was absolutely insane.

Until he heard Seowon suggest it himself when they met up at a bar to share a drink together.

“She would never say yes,” Jungkook said, beyond doubt that you won’t be persuaded that easily with a plan like that.

Seowon made a face. “I know. That girl is so hyper independent—she’d rather die than accept help.” He scoffed. “She needs it though. It’ll help with her medication and she won’t have to pay rent for that shit apartment she’s living in. Plus, she'll actually get the chance to take care of her body if she’s not juggling two jobs to have sufficient income.”

“You’re right.” Jungkook shrugged.

“You’ll do it then?”

He took a sip of his beer. “Yeah. I’d do anything for ____, you know that.”

“Even as crazy as marrying her?”

“Sure.”

Seowon stared at him, narrowing his eyes and morphing his expression into a teasing one. “Are you sure you’re not just considering this because it’s a perfect excuse to marry my sister? I know you like her.”

“I don’t like her.” 

“You’re in love with her.”

“I don’t—” Jungkook began to deny but Seowon was staring him down. “Fuck you, man. Don’t make me some kind of pervert who’s trying to lock her into marriage because he likes her. You’re the one who brought the idea up.”

Seowon laughed out loud. “I know, I just can’t believe you’d agree. It’ll benefit ____, that’s for sure—you, on the other hand? It’s career suicide.”

He shrugged. “I’m okay with the thought that she’ll be okay.”

“Because you love her, man.” Seowon pushed. “Why on earth would you consider this if you weren’t? It’s a fraudulent marriage. You’ll be thrown in the brig and be dishonorably discharged if you get caught.”

“We don’t even know if she’ll agree to this whole thing. You said it yourself, she would never say yes.”

“Yeah, unless maybe you’re the one who tries to persuade her.”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to buy her a ring and kneel down before her or something?”

“That can work.”

“What?” Jungkook laughed.

Seowon raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you don’t know how she’s been crushing on you since we were kids.”

He barked out a laugh again. That he knew; it was impossible not to when a lot of friends and cousins kept on teasing you before, especially at instances Jungkook was in the very same vicinity. “We’re not kids anymore and I barely see her though.”

“Still, it ought to count to something. It raises the chances of her agreeing.”

“You’re really cool with me marrying your sister, Won?” Jungkook asked.

Seowon placed down the beer bottle he’s consuming on the counter. “Yeah. You’re a good guy. You’re not perfect, but I know you enough to know that you won’t do anything that will purposely hurt her. Besides, if this sham marriage ends up to be a real relationship and then for some reason, you fuck up and decide to break her heart—I’ll easily know what to do, where to find you, to fuck you up.”

Jungkook pressed his lips together to stifle a chuckle.

“Noted.”

****

It’s always been a big wonder to you how no matter how long it’s been since you saw each other, it still feels like no time has passed between you and Jungkook. You think that’s why you can never get over him; he always had this comforting and familiar aura that you appreciate—something that you sought for in every other person that you liked. Maybe it was impractical, maybe it was the reason you can never hold a relationship for more than two years, but unless you gain the courage to confront your feelings and tell Jungkook about it, then you constantly dispel any doubts you might have whether this was good for you or not.

You don’t want to lose him. Admitting that you harbored romantic feelings for him would just make it awkward for everyone: your brother, your family, and then his family. You don’t think you can ever trade his smile, the sound of his laughter, and all the good things about him for anything in the world. 

“Are you dating anyone?” he asks.

You choke on your drink, having just poured yourself and Jungkook a glass of water after the server arrived with the pitcher. You’re in a Japanese restaurant near the university, aware that the cuisine was a favorite for the both of you hence why it’s what you recommended when he asked where you wanted to dine. The place is packed with people from the workforce and students; you’re thankful that you don’t see any of your students within the mix.

“We’re getting straight to it, huh?” you say.

Jungkook smirks. “I’m just making sure I’m not upsetting a boyfriend by meeting you tonight.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not upsetting anyone.”

He nods in understanding. You don’t want to add more meaning to his actions for the evening but he seems glad about the information.

“How about you?” you ask back. “Are you dating anyone?”

The ends of his mouth lift a bit upwards. “Nope.”

“Why? You don’t have the time for it?”

“Precisely.”

“It must be really hard dating when you’re in the Navy then.”

“Kinda. We’re away a lot and stationed in different places most of the time. It can get really dangerous for us too and people don’t like the stress that comes with that.”

 You bob. “Does it get lonely?”

“Sometimes, but when you’re on duty, you don’t get to think about those things.” He chuckles. “Besides, I don’t know if this sounds fucked up or not—but it can get exciting. Flying a plane can be fun, you know. Not to mention that it helps when you’re surrounded by good men in your squadron.”

“You’ve always been an adrenaline junkie.”

“And you’ve always been a scaredy-cat.”

You scoff at the declaration. “No, I’m not.”

“Remember when Seowon and I forced you to ride that ship in the amusement park that sways left to right and as it goes on it falls from a higher standpoint?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

But you do, and Jungkook knows you do, it’s evident by how your expression is trying to feign innocence. That memory is your villain origin story; the whole pretext of why you refuse to ever visit the amusement park or ride an exhilarating ride again. Yet you can’t help but recall that it’s one of the rare instances wherein you got to hold Jungkook’s hand when you two were younger, as his hand was the one you were clinging for dear life when it happened while the other was too busy slapping Seowon in irritation.

He snickers, appearing like he’s replaying the scene in his head. “We should do that again with Seowon during my break.”

“Hell no.”

“I thought you weren’t a scaredy-cat?” He challenges.

“I’m not.” You give him a kittenish glare. “But I am busy. I have to send the final manuscript of this book I’m editing to the chief editor next week and it’s about to be finals week for my students as well.”

He fakes a shiver. “I don’t know how you can do two jobs like that, ____. Truly.”

“You work as a naval aviator so I’d say we’re pretty even.”

The waiter arrives with your orders not long after, and you and Jungkook carry on with your conversation, jumping from topic to topic without difficulty. You’re not certain when was the last time you saw each other like this to have so much to talk about—was it last Christmas? Or was it more recent or longer than that? Nevertheless, it feels good and you find yourself blushing multiple times throughout the night, whether it’s because of how his words can have two meanings or how his eyes are staring at you so intensely whenever you’re the one who’s talking.

You like the undivided attention, the back and forth that’s occurring as you discourse, the subtle touches one of you does when something funny arises, how your knees are touching underneath the table. You wonder what’s so different with this encounter that the energy feels so bizarre in a good way? As far as you’re concerned, you’re positive that you’re acting like you always have in his presence—lively, smiley, sarcastic—and aside from the little touches of flirting here and there, Jungkook’s acting like he always has too.

When dinner was done, Jungkook offered to drive you home. You obliged, no longer in the mood to annoy him for you were tired to make the effort. Before stepping outside the restaurant however, you excused yourself to the restroom first, checking your blood sugar with the glucose meter you brought along wherever you went. It’s a hassle but it’s necessary, largely because you’re still in the middle of saving up for the insulin pump that would help you regulate your sugar levels easier.

After administering yourself with the insulin injection you have, you spend a few more seconds inside the enclosed room. You should be past the point of feeling sorry for yourself, but it’s times like this wherein you’re with a loved one that the dejection hits and you wish that you’re in a better predicament than you are right now. You’re close to being broke, you’re overworked, you’re somehow fatigued all the fucking time—those factors aren’t soothing your worries at all. It’s a miracle how you manage to keep an optimistic mind amidst everything.

“Ready to go?” Jungkook smiles at you once you’re back at the table and you nod, clutching your bag tighter against your body and following him to his car.

He drives you to your place, turning the radio on, and letting it play while the both of you sit in silence. You’re both tired and you almost even sleep during the ride. It’s only when Jungkook gently shakes you awake that you realize that you’ve arrived in front of your apartment building.

“I’ll walk you up,” he insists as you’re unbuckling the seatbelt. 

“That’s no need, Kook.”

“Of course, it is,” he says. “I’ll walk you up. That’s nonnegotiable.”

So, you allow him.

It takes five minutes tops to reach the door leading to your apartment. As you rummage through your bag to grab your keys, Jungkook patiently stands there, occasionally glancing around the hallway and even smiling when the old lady that resided in the same floor got out of her room to throw out the trash. He receives a smile in return which you notice and grin fondly at.

“Well, this is me.” You turn to him, done unlocking your door. “I’d invite you inside but you should probably get going. It’s quite a long drive back home.”

“Yeah.” He breathes out a chuckle. “Hey, tonight was fun. It made me realize how I missed you.”

Your brain temporarily malfunctions; you force yourself to recover quickly. “Me too. I had fun tonight. Maybe we should do this again whenever you’re on a break.”

“Agreed.”

You flash him a smile. “You can go now. Goodnight.”

Jungkook nods, however doesn’t move a muscle. He’s looking at you, like really looking at you, his eyes moving from one feature to another, as if he’s memorizing your face or having a hard time arranging the words he wants to say. You guess it’s the latter, familiar with a tongue-tied Jungkook that it takes you a few good seconds before you’re demanding why he’s impersonating a mannequin.

“There’s something I want to say,” that’s what he utters and you almost snort due to your assumption being right.

“Okay…” The smile is still on your lips. “What is it?”

“Promise me you won’t get mad first.”

“Well, if you’re making me promise that then it’s probably worth being mad about.”

“It’s not as bad as you think.”

“That’s not convincing at all.”

“It’s just…” He begins and trails, biting his lower lip, “it’s… it’s why I went here. Why I went here to see and meet you, I mean.”

You unconsciously recoil at the revelation. It’s certainly a rookie mistake to believe that there was no ulterior motive in Jungkook meeting you today. You just didn’t reckon you’d actually be truly disappointed at that—at the idea that he just didn’t randomly decide to visit and be with you earlier until now.

You draw a long breath. “Well, I knew you weren’t just feeling generous and wanted to treat me to dinner out of nowhere.”

There’s a pause and then he resumes. “Just—before I say it, you have to hear me out, okay? You have to let me explain before you berate me.”

“I can’t promise that either.”

“You have to.”

“Why do I have to?”

“Because what I’m about to say is for your own sake. You know I always have your best interest at heart, don’t you?”

You wrinkle your forehead in further confusion. “Can you just get on with it? The vagueness is making me more annoyed.”

“I just don’t want you to misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand what?”

“What I—and Seowon—genuinely think is the best option.”

“Oh, and Seowon is in on this too?” You bellow. “Have you and Seowon just been conspiring behind my back the whole time?”

“Calm down.” Jungkook puts his hands on your shoulders, a chuckle inevitably escaping him. “I’m sorry for dragging it out. You should know I’m high key afraid of you, that’s why.”

“You should be.” You grumble.

Another chuckle, but he’s back to appearing anxious. You want to shout that this isn’t healthy, that you’re close to giving him a real reason to be afraid of you—yet once he blurts the confession out, you’re speechless, gawking at him and staggering backwards in complete shock. Perhaps you would have bolted as far away from him as possible if not for his solid grasp.

“What?” You hiss.

He swallows hard.

“I want you to marry me, ____.”

You don’t bolt away running. You shake off his hold on you though, and before he gets another word in, you’re hastily rushing inside your apartment and slamming the door to his face.

****

Jungkook was your first kiss.

It happened in a game of truth and dare. You were at a party of a mutual friend and when the bottle miserably pointed in Jungkook’s direction, the person who was tasked to think of his dare when it was his pick said that he dared him to do 7 minutes in heaven with you. 

He profusely refused at first, especially since Seowon was in the same party, but everybody began booing and next thing you know, Jungkook was agreeing as long as it was fine with you. When you nodded to make your consent apparent, your friends were quick to shove you both in the closet, some of them pulling Seowon back who was complaining how it wasn’t right to bully you into doing 7 minutes in heaven with Jungkook. They calmed him down once they bullied him into agreeing too.

“We don’t have to do anything,” Jungkook told you in the darkness, his breath fawning over your face. “You don’t have to feel pressured. It’s just a stupid game.”

You blushed.

Secretly, you were hoping that he’d kiss you or touch you. Who didn’t want to do anything with their crush at the age of 15? A lot can happen in 7 minutes. You were aware that sometimes people made out, went as far as third base, and although you didn’t want to go that far with Jungkook, you wanted something to happen while you were stuck in this small closet with him. There weren’t a lot of instances that put both of you in this kind of situation; you wished that you were brave enough to ask him to kiss you or do the first move yourself.

5 minutes in, Jungkook turned towards you.

“Is it true that Taehyung kissed you last week?”

You whipped your head so fast that you might have given yourself whiplash. “That’s—that’s not true. Where did you hear that?”

“During homeroom. Some girls were talking about it.”

Your cheeks burned. “Oh.”

“So, it’s not true?”

“No.” You shook your head. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.” You laughed weakly.

It was his turn to seem stunned. “You haven’t had your first kiss yet?”

You shook your head again, then realized he might not see you doing so. “Not yet.”

“Want me to change that?” he asked, grinning.

He said that with a boyish grin and teasing tone, but you sucked at social cues (plus, you really couldn’t see shit that much) that you started nodding.

“Okay,” you told him.

“Huh?”

“You can kiss me.”

“Oh, oh, shit—I didn’t—” He was blabbering, about to take back what he offered. “I mean, I was just joking but—”

You widen your eyes. “You were? Oh my God, I’m sorry, I thought you were—”

“No, it was my fault. That was a little out of line for me. I’m sorry.” He was laughing and you felt like burying yourself 6 feet under. “It was a stupid thing to say. But if you want me to kiss you, it’s cool.”

“It is?” Hope sparked within you.

“Yeah. It’ll just be a peck anyway.” You can tell he was smiling through his voice. “Just don’t tell Seowon because he might punch me in the face for kissing his sister.”

You cackled. “Deal.”

56 seconds before the 7 minutes were up, Jungkook leaned down to match your level and placed his lips on yours. 

****

You’re seething with rage, the embodiment of Godzilla, channeling the God of War, Ares, in your body; you harshly press Seowon’s number on your phone to call him and he answers after three rings.

“What’s up?”

“I will fucking murder you,” you snarl.

A beat. You hear shuffling. Then he answers, “you already talked with Jungkook?”

The nonchalance and calmness in his voice drives you to be more frustrated than you already are. “Yes, I have! What is wrong with you? Why would you plant that idea on his head?” You yell, not caring that your walls are thin and that your voice can probably be heard by the couple that lived next door. You’re feeling a mixture of anger, embarrassment, and every negative emotion that exists at the moment. You’re comparable to a bull who just saw the color red.

“____, it won’t be a big deal if you don’t make it to be.”

“Are you hearing yourself right now?”

“Did you even let Jungkook explain?”

“I don’t need him to spell everything out. I know why he’s asking me to marry him.”

“Then you know too that it’d be good for you.”

“Marrying him won’t be good for me.”

“Why not?”

“It just won’t!”

“You’ll get health insurance benefits that you don’t get with your current jobs. You can pay less rent once you move in at Jungkook’s place—there’s a huge chance he won’t even let you pay him while you stay there too. He’s away most of the time anyway, so staying there wouldn’t be a problem. Plus, you can start studying for a masters degree like you’ve always wanted.”

You groan. “Not like this. This is crazy.”

“The both of you can divorce once you’ve saved up a little. It really isn’t that complicated.”

“It’s a sham marriage!”

“It’s a sham marriage with Jungkook.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“Are you sure? Your grade school diary might disagree.”

“Oh my God, that’s fucking low of you to bring that up. You just gave me another reason to hate you.” You stomp around the living room, acting like a teenager because of your brother’s behavior. This isn’t the first time he revealed that he’s read your diary before; that doesn’t mean it’s less infuriating to be reminded that he has. “I swear, you better fucking sleeping with one eye open tonight. I’m choking you to death.”

Seowon laughs out loud. “Just marry him. He’s surprisingly amicable with the idea.”

“That’s because you’re pressuring him! I bet you and Mom devised this entire thing together.”

“Mom doesn’t know. To be fair, she’d probably have the same reaction as you. It’s all me and Jungkook.”

“Wow. You have two brains and yet none of you thought this was goddamn stupid?”

“It’s not stupid. It’s genius if you come to think of it,” he says. “Jungkook just wants to help you, dude. He wants to make sure you’ll be okay and all that shit. You’re the reason he filed for a two-week leave, did he tell you?”

Your heart does that jumping thing again. “No.”

“Well, he did. He’s on a break for two weeks because he wants to convince you to marry him and actually marry you within that time frame.”

“This is nuts.” You sigh, finally flopping down the sofa and rubbing your face with your free hand. “The both of you are nuts. How are you okay with this?”

“It’s Jungkook. I trust him. Don’t you?”

“Of course, I do, I just—” you cut yourself off and frown, “I just feel like it’s unfair for him. I’m marrying him because of military spouse benefits and what does he get?”

There’s a long pause, and you almost check your phone to see whether Seowon has already hung up on you or not.

“It’s better that Jungkook answers that question,” he tells you finally.

“Why? You can’t answer it on behalf of him?”

“Something like that.” You can imagine him shrugging. “All I know is that he’s genuinely concerned about your health and your financial status right now. So, just think about it, okay?”

“God, fuck it, fine. I’ll think about it.” You grimace.

You hang up and glance at the door.

You don’t think the conversation you just had with Seowon took that much time. The initial rush you had upon having your longtime crush propose to you is wearing off and you’re realizing that it was a dick move to literally slam the door right in Jungkook’s face earlier, leading you to stand up from your seat and look through the peephole to check if he’s still there.

He isn’t, which you sigh in relief at.

As you lean against the door and regulate your breathing, you think how funny it is that Seowon is right about one thing—and that was grade school you would have been delighted at the thought of getting married to Jungkook. He’s your dream guy; your parents loved him, his parents loved you, the both of you got along very well, and his personality and looks are everything that you’re looking for in a partner. It sucks that you live in a world where the only reason he wants to marry you is because he’s afraid you’ll die because of self-neglect. 

Your phone pings and you unlock the screen to look at the message that flashes on it.

Jungkook: hey, seowon just messaged me to say that you two already talked Jungkook: i’m sorry for jumping on you with a topic like that… Jungkook: i’m shit at confrontation lol Jungkook: also it’s the first time i’m proposing so give me some slack

You scoff at his audacity to joke about it this soon.

You: it’s okay You: i’m sorry too for what i did You: the answer is no btw

Jungkook: already??? Jungkook: let’s talk about it first

You: no need You: i don’t want to marry you

Jungkook: oof that’s harsh

You: sorry not sorry?

He doesn’t respond and you think you’re safe. Maybe Jungkook does take no for an answer and you’re confused because you’re a little disappointed that he’s not falling on his knees, begging you to marry him like what your imagination is supplying you.

However, after you took a shower and went to check your phone again, you see that Jungkook messaged you a few minutes ago in response to your last message.

Jungkook: give me 10 days and i’ll change your mind

You have the urge to go take a shower again because of how hot your body is feeling at the statement.

You: hate to break it to you but you’re not matthew mcconaughey

Jungkook: 🤣🤣🤣

****

It’s not part of Jungkook’s branding to chase a woman. Typically, women chase him; they chase him in every city and country that he gets stationed in, flirting with him and hoping that they’ll get the chance to take him home for the night for a mindblowing one-night stand. They never succeed though, for despite their pretty faces and sultry gestures, Jungkook only smiles and declines every offer, saying that he had a girl waiting back home that he loved very much.

He used to think that he only used that as an excuse because he’s not the type to hook up with every attractive girl he meets. There are times when he succumbs, when he gives into the temptation of a little fun, especially after a life threatening or highly stressful mission—but most of the time, he thinks he declines and use that pronouncement of his because his mind reverts him to the idea of you, to what would happen if he just gained the balls to ask you out.

Evidently, although asking you out and asking you to marry him are two completely different things, he’s a bit afraid that your answer will always be a hard no. It’s what you’ve been literally spelling out to him since the day he presented the idea, regardless of how he’s trying his best in swooning you or explaining how this is the perfect plan to help you gain an upper hand with your diagnosis.

“I’ll file a restraining order against you, I’m serious,” you say to him when he appears yet again outside the faculty room, waiting for you to gather your things and head home. You’re wearing a white button up shirt and pinstripe wide leg trousers, an outfit combination that he ogles at before he goes down to business.

“You wouldn’t.” He glares at you. He gestures for you to let him take your backpack, and despite what you said, you let him. “Also, what the fuck is in this thing? You’ll break your back if you keep using this.” He swings your backpack on one shoulder.

You laugh. “My laptop, its charger, a couple of notebooks, books, pens, then the outputs of my students.”

“Aren’t they supposed to submit virtually? What happened to Google Classroom?”

“I still use it, but sometimes I like to have their work printed out so I can write the comments better. How do you know Google Classroom?”

“I have a squadronmate whose kid uses it for class.”

“Ah.” You nod in understanding.

You two continue walking forward.

This has been your program for the past few days. Jungkook goes to the university you work at, he’ll wait outside, you’ll threaten him with something ridiculous, he’ll take your bag, he’ll offer to take you to dinner, you’ll decline, and then he’ll drive you home anyways. Before that routine ends, he’ll lean on your door frame and give you his best puppy eyes, asking you to marry him for the sake of your welfare, and you’ll scowl at him, insisting that you don’t need his help to survive.

“Dinner?” he asks, right on schedule.

You glance at him. “No. I want to go home and sleep for 12 hours.”

“Busy day?”

“Yep.”

“You know, if you marry me, you won’t have to work two jobs and overexert yourself.”

He doesn’t need to turn to you to know that you’re giving him a dirty look. “I won’t marry you, Jungkook.”

“Why not?”

“Because marriage doesn’t work that way.”

“It does. Billionaires do it all the time. The mafia does it too. It’s always been some kind of transaction.”

“Well, if I marry you, what do you get?”

“The assurance you’re taken care of.”

“That’s cheesy.”

You share a laugh and he grins.

“It’s true,” he says. “I’ll be fine as long as you are.”

He waits for you to quip back a reply, flickering his eyes to you when it takes longer than usual. Instead of the sneer he’s expecting, you appear to be flustered, an expression that is very recognizable for him who’s known you since forever—an expression that makes it too obvious for Jungkook that the crush you had on him that he thought has been long gone was still there. He’s been seeing it a lot lately, particularly when he’s uttering lines that sound flirtatious on purpose; he’s positive that you’ll threaten to kill him when you discover that he basks on the fact that he can still make you all flustered and cute, which encourages him to do and say anything that would elicit a reaction from you. Was it unethical to seduce you into marrying him? He might have to rethink that part too.

Reaching the parking lot, he unlocks the doors to his vehicle and places your bag inside the backseat. He watches you walk around the car, about to go to the passenger’s side, but then you wobble a bit and his attempt to get inside is instantly forgotten.

“Hey,” he strides to where you are, gazing at you as you now hold onto the hood, “you alright?”

You raise your chin up. “Kook, can you get my bag?”

Jungkook doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s swinging the door again and getting your bag from the other end of the backseat while you get on the passenger’s seat, keeping the door wide and placing your legs outside, your feet planted on the concrete.

“What do you need?” he asks, crouching in front of you and zipping the bag open.

“Glucometer.”

He halts. “What does that look like?”

“It’s in the yellow bag. There.” You point at it right when he rummages through a certain part.

He brings it out and you take it from his grasp. Your movements are sluggish but he can discern that you’re doing your best not to be too slow; he’d present to help but he knows that he might prolong what you’re doing due to his cluelessness, so he just observes, noting how you’re pricking your finger with a device and then pressing it lightly to the glucometer which shows that your blood sugar is low.

“Blue bag,” you mutter to him and he finds it faster than the last one.

It’s the insulin this time. You grab the unopened syringe, rip it out from its packet, insert it to the vial of insulin—then your hand shakes, preventing you from continuing.

“Let me do it,” he says.

You don’t fight him, you just slump against the seat as Jungkook picks up from where you left, and the moment he administers the insulin through your shoulder, a huge and long exhale escapes you.

“How are you feeling?” he whispers. He didn’t notice that he was holding his breath the entire duration of the scene.

Another sigh. “Better.”

“Does this happen a lot?”

You seem to hesitate. “Not a lot. Just when life gets a bit too hectic.”

“____—”

“Just take me home.” You don’t give him the chance to lecture you. “Please, Jungkook.”

Defeated, he nods. “Alright.”

“Thank you.”

He helps you position yourself properly on the passenger’s seat. “But we’re talking about this at your place.”

Before you can protest, he closes the door.

****

Lee Hyunwoo was the name of the guy that you brought home for Christmas Eve eight years ago. It was the first time that you did, and Jungkook hated how Hyunwoo was considerably handsome, intelligent, and kind—the exact kind of person he always imagined you deserved.

In the short time Hyunwoo spent with theirs and your family that night, everybody loved him and was already inviting him to the next gathering, all the while Jungkook avoided him at every cost, puzzled by this strong dislike he was feeling for your guest. He was annoyed at the manner in which Hyunwoo had an arm around your waist the entire evening, how you grinned up to him, eyes sparkling and all that shit. Hell, you used to look at him like that.

“Honey, can you get the mango float we have in our freezer?” Jungkook heard your mother tell you, and without thinking, he stood up from his chair and made a beeline to where you were, telling you he’d accompany you to your house.

“That’s fine,” you told him. “It’s literally next door.”

“Yeah, but it might be heavy.”

“It’s not.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

You rolled your eyes and agreed then, excusing yourself from Hyunwoo who was in an engaged conversation with Seowon. The pair were geeking out because of their mutual love for the MCU and the next film slated to be released the following year.

Upon arriving at your home, you dashed to the kitchen with Jungkook trudging behind you. He wasn’t sure what his next course of action should be now; all he wanted was some alone time with you, away from the presence of that college boyfriend of yours, but now that he had that, he couldn’t think of anything that he wanted to say or do. He wasn’t even sure why he was feeling a bit jealous—was it because of that saying? Wherein people are bound to want what they can’t have? Or was it that you only appreciate what you had when you’ve already lost it?

“How long have you and Hyunwoo been dating?” he asked, leaning against the counter as you pulled your freezer open.

“Four months, I think.”

“Four months? And you already brought him home?”

You snorted at his tone. “His family is in another country so I thought it’d be nice to invite him.”

“You must really like him then.”

“Yeah, but I’m not in love with him or anything.” You placed the mango float on the space beside Jungkook on the counter. “He’s nice, and he likes me too.”

“Does he treat you well?”

You flashed your eyes at him, amusement dancing in them. “What’s with that question?”

“What’s with it?”

“Nothing, it’s just that…” you trailed, a smirk etched on your face. “Wait a minute, are you… you can’t possibly—” Jungkook was widening his eyes, ready to deny your accusation once you questioned whether he was jealous of Hyunwoo or not— “are you pulling an overprotective brother skit on me, Kook?”

Fuck, thank God, he thought.

“I prefer ‘overprotective friend skit’,” he said.

“That doesn’t have a nice ring to it.”

“But I’m not your brother.”

“You don’t have to be, I’m just saying that you and Seowon have been acting similar since Hyunwoo and I arrived.”

“Nonsense. Seowon likes him.”

“Oh, so you don’t?”

He pressed his lips into a tight line.

“Did you just admit that you don’t like Hyunwoo?” you asked, chuckling. He was grateful that you didn’t seem to be offended by it.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like him.”

“Instead you implied it.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You kinda did.”

He heard you laugh and he couldn’t help but allow himself to laugh as well.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “Maybe I’m just not used to you dating anyone. You are chronically single.”

“Can’t say you’re wrong.” You snorted and picked up from the mango float, marching back to his house and gesturing for him to follow you.

He did, no words spoken between the both of you once more. Though when you were entering their place again, with Jungkook holding the door open for you, he mentioned something he never reckoned he’d have the guts to mention out loud.

“When you open my gift,” he began, “don’t do it in front of Hyunwoo, okay?”

“Why not?” You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, intrigued by his warning.

“He might not like it. You’ll see.”

That night, at the comfort of your bedroom, Hyunwoo nowhere near but instead sleeping at the coach downstairs in your living room, you opened Jungkook’s gift and saw that it was a necklace with your birth flower as its pendant.

You smiled, rolling your eyes to yourself, and slept with that giddy look never leaving your face.

****

“Not so fast,” Jungkook grunts.

Did he think that you were going to be less difficult since he was helpful earlier? Yeah, he did. He likes to think that if it wasn’t for him, you would have taken longer in injecting yourself with insulin, so he at least wanted a thank you in the form of your willingness to have an adult conversation with him tonight. However, that clearly isn’t the case because when he walked you up to your apartment like he always did, you’re attempting to lock him out, shutting the door as fast as you can once you’re inside, thus trying to prevent him from initiating that talk he wanted the two of you to have.

“Seriously?” He successfully pries the door open and you scowl at him.

“Jungkook—”

“No, you don’t get to reason your way out of this. I’m done hearing you out. It’s your turn to listen to me.” He steps inside your apartment.

You groan, striding to the sofa and throwing your bag there. “You can’t force me to marry you.”

“Is marrying me so fucking bad that you can’t get over it for health insurance benefits that can really help you?” He demands, infuriated. 

“That’s not the issue.”

“Then what is?”

“You can get arrested!” you exclaim. “And so can I! Does that not freak you out?”

“We’ll only get arrested if we get caught.”

“I’m not willing to take the risk.”

“I’m not willing to see you die.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Who the fuck said anything about dying? I’m not dying.”

“You almost passed out on me. You almost—”

“It’s an error on my part, I admit.” You sigh. “When I get busy and preoccupied, sometimes I forget to check my sugar levels regularly throughout the day. I’m sorry.”

“And you expect to be convinced that you have everything handled?”

“God, I’m not a child. Stop treating me like I can’t do shit for myself.”

“Please, ___,” he approaches you with the most pleading expression he can muster, and he watches as your hard expression crumbles, “just accept my help. It’s really not a big deal—you won’t even see me often, so keeping up with the whole marriage ploy wouldn’t be difficult. We’ll divorce in two years, we can pretend we never got married after that.”

“You just don’t get it, don’t you?”

“What do I not get? If you think I don’t understand something, then explain it to me—”

“I can’t marry you,” you say. You do so like it’s final, like there’s no point in arguing with you because he can never change your stand on this. As he’s pleading with his eyes to urge you to agree, you’re communicating with your eyes in a similar way that’s wishing he would just drop this. “It’s wrong.”

His eyebrows furrow. “This isn’t the time to go on your high horse and decide what’s wrong and what’s not. It’s a fraudulent marriage—of course, it’ll be wrong to some degree.”

“No, I mean…” You turn away from him, rubbing your face in exhaustion. “It’d be wrong of me to marry you. I’m taking advantage of you if I do, and I don’t like that.”

Jungkook shakes his head, frustration worsening at the childlike excuse. Surely, you weren’t that naive, were you? “You’re not. I’m not doing this against my own will. Besides, we get extra pay just for being married. If it makes you feel better, I won’t split it with you.”

“That won’t make me feel better.”

“Then what will?”

You flop down on the coach and lean back, closing your eyes. He knows he’s being a pain in the ass but he can’t just stand here and do nothing. He thinks he’s already come too far in convincing you, he isn’t going to back out now. Every single day spent together, he can feel you warming up to the idea of marrying him for health insurance. Your connection and entirety of your relationship has been off the charts recently that it’ll be harder for him not to be assured that before he leaves for his job, you’ll be taken care off.

Jungkook goes to the spot beside you, sitting down. Your knees bump together, he keeps on gazing at you, waiting for you to focus on him; a minute passes and his gaze moves to your hand that’s laying on the small space between you.

Without overthinking, he stretches out and clasps it, allowing his fingers to play with yours that finally captures your attention. The moment he glances up, he sees that you’re staring at him and he doesn’t let go, he even smiles, a quiet promise that he’s always willing to listen to whatever you want to tell him.

You hesitantly smile back. “You know,” your eyes train back to your intertwined fingers, Jungkook reveling in the warmth of your skin, gaining more confidence in acting out his feelings, “there was a time wherein I would have said yes immediately if you asked me to marry you.”

He smirks, can’t deny how hearing that inflates his ego a bit although this route in the conversation isn’t where he expected to go. “What changed?”

“For one, I grew up.”

“Ouch.”

You laugh. Then you stay quiet for a while before speaking. “Can I confess something?”

That piques his interest. “Anything.”

“But you have to promise not to make fun of me.”

“That’s impossible.” He teases. “What is it?”

You stall, readjusting your position so that you can directly face him. Jungkook doesn’t let go of your hand, he keeps it in his grasp, his thumb rubbing along the expanse of your knuckles.

“I like you, Jungkook. I really really do,” you finally say and he blinks, startled.

It shouldn’t surprise him, considering that it’s been long established that he knew of your crush already, though he doesn’t seem to have anticipated for you to boldly admit it when all these years, it’s only been some kind of unspoken understanding that neither of you downright acknowledged.

You continue speaking. “In fact, I like you so much that maybe it developed into love at some point—I’m not sure. I’m at this stage of no longer being afraid of what I feel, I think? Most of the time, I just let it occur like it’s something so natural. Like it’s a feeling that I can never get away from? Like whatever I do, there’s no way to shake you.” You chuckle half-heartedly. “Though never in a million years would I have thought that I’d confess all of this. What for anyway? I don’t want you to be burdened with what my teenage heart couldn’t rub out.”

His mind is racing; hundred thoughts, hundred scenarios, hundred experiences he’s spent with you since the day you met. Jungkook never realized how much he needed you to say that you liked him—that maybe you even loved him—until he heard it from your very mouth that you did, causing every inhibition and doubt he had to vanish. Now, he only wants to engulf you in an embrace and shout Yes, I feel the same way! Sorry for being a fucking corward and not doing this first!

He would have done all of that in a flash if it didn’t appear that you still had something to say. Based on your rather constipated posture and the hand he’s holding that’s becoming clammy, he discerns that you’re just in the first part of what you wanted to admit.

“Actually, that’s also why I can’t let myself marry you,” you say. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but I don’t know… it feels really icky somehow. I feel like I’m holding you hostage, or that I’m tricking you because of an ulterior motive, or that I’m defying the laws of the universe by having the chance to marry you. I’m not sure. I just know that I don’t want to marry you if it means I’ll only get to do so because you think you’re doing me a huge favor. I don’t want to be your charity case, Kook—I deserve to be more than that, you know? I’m not traditional or whatever but if it’s not for love, I’m not keen on getting married.” You abruptly pull away from his clutch, embarrassment washing on your features by what you stated. “Plus, two years might not be that long but what happens when you meet someone and you like her? How can you explain that you’re only married to me because I need it for my medication? It’ll just be unnecessarily messy. I don’t want to hold you back from those kinds of things. I don’t want to be a hindrance.”

That’s his cue. That’s when he knows he’s supposed to kiss you and take your breath away, to admit that he’s certain that he has loved you since that one time when he was in the Naval Academy and although the training was hard as fuck, the thought of you gave him strength and he didn’t want to see anyone as much as he wanted to see you after—that when you and Seowon visited him, that familiar urge to have you alone was all he felt the entire time, solidifying the idea that perhaps he didn’t just see you as a friend.

“You’re unbelievably dense, ___,” he murmurs, smirking at the play of events, and you glance at him, expression showing disbelief that he’s somehow treating this matter lightly.

“What?”

“Do you honestly think I go around and offer marriage to every woman out there who can benefit from being a military spouse? Do you think I’m that generous? I’m not. I wouldn’t ask anyone to marry me for the same reason if they weren’t important to me—or if I didn’t like them. I’m not that much of a saint,” he adds. “I mean, I’m taking a two-week break to convince you to marry me. I’m spending time with you every single day. I’m driving for almost an hour and a half, enduring the traffic to get from my apartment to the university you work in to do that—and you think this is because I want to be charitable?”

Silence. Your forehead wrinkles. He thinks you’re still not getting the point.

“I’m in love with you, ____,” Jungkook says.

Your breath hitches in your throat. You’re opening your mouth, then closing it, then opening it again, then pressing it into a thin line. He thinks you look cute, being taken aback like this, and he’s wishing that he’s done this sooner so that the last five days of him chasing you around like a lost puppy was spent with talking more about what’s possibly waiting for yours and his relationship next.

“Are you serious?” you ask after what seems like forever. “Or are you just saying that because you’re that desperate to have me on board with the whole fraudulent marriage thing?”

“God—” He’s inching closer to you now, laughing, watching your lips twitch at his reaction— “I’m convinced that you were born into this earth to drive me fucking crazy.”

And just like that, he no longer restrains himself from kissing you.

It takes you a few good seconds before you will yourself to move. You can’t seem to process the reality of Jungkook admitting that he was in love with you and then taking the liberty to plant his lips on yours. You’re not complaining, of course, but you are a bit overwhelmed that it literally makes you freeze, unaware of what you’re supposed to do now that your fantasies are coming into life.

However, once you feel him angle his head to the side, doing so to deepen the kiss, your reflexes kick in and you’re kissing him back, encircling your arms around his neck and leaning towards him, Jungkook sighing in what appears to be relief. He grips your hips to support you as you try to straddle him, but your movements are so clumsy that you end up sprawling against his chest instead, perched on a leg of his that provides pleasure on the spot you need him the most. He chuckles at your lack of gracefulness, gliding his lips to your cheek and down to your jaw, nipping.

“This okay?” he whispers with a palm drifting to your bottom.

You nod and Jungkook’s mouth is back on yours in an instant. He squeezes your ass, takes his time in fondling with it, cheekily slapping whenever you get brave yourself and push your tongue past his lips, before he skims his hand lower to your thigh and signals for you to mount him. Upon being properly sat on his lap, you get an immediate feel of his hard length through his jeans, prompting your imagination to run wild and induce the filthiest things he can do to you if neither of you stops.

“Holy shit,” he curses, your kisses roaming to the base of his throat where you lap and suck.

It becomes a dirty pattern for a while. The both of you will take a brief pause from making out to remove a piece of clothing or kiss every other exposed skin there is: the cheek, the jaw, the neck, the collarbones, the shoulders. Then one of you hauls the other back for another passionate kiss, hands skating everywhere on your bodies, sounds of arousal echoing inside the room; you’re starting to get lightheaded but you’re positive it’s not because of your sugar levels running low.

“I hate that it took us so long to get to this point,” he mutters.

You grin. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m the man—I should have confessed long ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know. ‘Was afraid to lose you, I guess.” He draws his head back and admires your blissed out expression. “But then when Seowon told me you had diabetes, I panicked and thought that I might lose you either way.”

You go back to making out, Jungkook guiding your hips in grinding on his clothed length. It’s addictive—the intimate feel of him, how he’s not shy in making sure you know how much he’s craving to be as close to you as you are to him. You think you can spend the whole night just doing this and be okay with it.

“Fuck, Kook,” you groan against his mouth, a hand descending to his stomach and to his manhood, “you’re so… so fuckin’ hard.”

You’re palming him now, tracing the erection evident under his boxers.

He lets out a grunt. “Yeah, baby, I know.”

“Do you… do you want me—” You’re breathless, not able to continue whatever it is that you want to say.

He understands you just fine though. “No.” He shakes his head. “Don’t do anything.”

You’re not sure what Jungkook means by that. How are you supposed to do nothing when you want to do everything to him? You soon comprehend what he means when he guides you to lay down on the sofa, when his lips skim lower and lower, passing your breasts, giving them the attention they deserve, until he goes lower than that and discards your underwear, kissing you in between your legs.

It’s like he’s releasing all the pent up emotions he’s been keeping all these years. His tongue and fingers are relentless, his voice is telling you that he’s eager to coax an orgasm out of you, and as he lifts himself up to return to his previous position, face hovering yours, you’re positive that he’ll get everything he wants because without a doubt you’ll give him everything he wants from you too. Hell, if he uses this opportunity to ask you to marry him again, you might answer yes straight away, no longer bearing in mind the worries you expressed to him earlier.

Although did that even matter anymore? Jungkook said he loved you. He said you drove him crazy. You never thought you’d come to see the day he’d utter those words but here you are. The man of your dreams is kissing you, pleasing you, and looking damn enthusiastic as he does all of that.

“Last chance to stop me,” Jungkook teases. His eyes are glassy and you can feel his cock nudging on your thigh.

You giggle, bringing his head closer to press another long kiss on those pink and plump lips of his. “Please never stop.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“I’m going to take you up on that.”

“Please do.”

After this night, you’re certain that you’ll never allow yourself to be with another man aside from Jungkook. At the back of your head, you always thought that you were his, regardless if that wasn’t true or that there was no real relationship to prove that—however, at this moment, as he thrusts in and out languidly, you unquestionably know that you’re his. You belong to him now and he belongs to you; he lets you know through his love-filled gaze, his passionate kisses, and the manner wherein he moans your name.

“I love you,” he says, like he’s still in deep longing for your touch and affection.

You hum, tangling your fingers through the strands of his hair. “I love you, Kook.” You stare at his eyes. “I can’t remember a time I didn’t.”

A boyish grin erupts on his features.

Time passes by quickly. In a few more of his kisses, of the intoxicating slam of his hips, of his seductive whimpers, you’re coming beneath him, Jungkook pulling out and jerking his length until he too comes, his seed landing on the base of your tummy. You have the nerve to giggle at that, grinning at him with low-lidded eyes, and Jungkook hastily wipes his cum off your skin, attacking you with another passionate kiss that leaves you breathless.

“There’s no way you’re not marrying me after this,” he murmurs.

You teasingly graze your teeth on his bottom lip. “I’ll think about it.”

He groans. “Don’t think about it. Just say yes.”

“At least let me sleep on it, Kook.”

“Fuck—fine.” He grabs your sides and pulls you flush against his body. “Guess I’ll have to keep on convincing you until you agree.”

****

“God, why is this so difficult?” Jungkook whines, keeping you in his embrace, head tucked between your cheek and shoulder.

The air is very humid and Jungkook’s in his naval aviator uniform, which doesn’t look cool in a sense that air is properly flowing through the material. He doesn’t care though, doesn’t care that it’s sticking to his skin as he refuses to let you go, not even when you complain playfully.

“Kook, I’m fucking sweaty.”

“I don’t care.”

You laugh. 

He’s leaving to return to his duty and you’re here with him outside the base before he enters, being with him until the last possible minute because that’s how much of a good wife you are.

Yes, you and Jungkook did get married. Three days ago in fact, at the city hall’s courtroom. Neither of you invited your parents; they didn’t know about the occasion and you refused to tell them, afraid that they may be critical about yours and his choices when they discover the true reason why you’re rushing to be wed. The only people that remained to be aware of it was Seowon and his girlfriend, Winnie, who served as the witnesses, which was fine by you. In your understanding, this was just for the papers and your health, and not the real deal yet to be celebrated lavishly.

“I’ll propose to you again after a couple of years,” Jungkook promised after the ceremony. “Let’s renew our vows and I’ll give you an amazing wedding.”

You would have told him that there was no need, but who were you kidding? You did want a proper wedding with Jungkook. The previous week didn’t even feel like you were newlyweds. Yes, the both of you compacted all of the dates you could have if one of you weren’t such a chicken in five days, and yes, though the honeymoon stage was experienced and practiced—it was only because you were a new couple who after years of hiding their feelings for one another, was now finally free to express it as much as they desired.

“Call me everyday?” you ask when he finally pulls back, Jungkook pecking your lips one more time.

“Definitely.” He smiles. “Visit me whenever possible?”

“Of course.” You kiss him too.

His smile transforms into a grin. “Take care of yourself, alright? Keep me updated all the time. No sugarcoating allowed.”

“Yes, Lieutenant.”

Rolling his eyes, he gives you another kiss and engulfs you in a tight hug, lifting you off the ground that causes you to giggle.

“Okay, pack it up, love birds!” Seowon shouts.

The two of you turn to your brother who’s leaning on his car, the vehicle that was used to transport the three of you today. You’re still in the middle of moving your belongings at Jungkook’s place and Seowon was kind enough to volunteer helping, always dubious that you could do stuff on your own. Despite your reluctance, you let him assist you, mostly because you’re trying to make a conscious effort in not upsetting him again.

Let’s just say that when the judge hailed you husband and wife at the civil wedding, Seowon wasn’t thrilled to see that the kiss shared between you and Jungkook wasn’t as fake as the supposed sham marriage, leading him to the conclusion that in the middle of Jungkook’s ruse of convincing you to be his wife, something must have happened that led to your approval and that rather 18+ rated kiss. Mostly though, he’s just offended that neither of you thought of telling him that you were an official couple before the wedding.

Jungkook unwillingly places you down.

“I think I need to go,” you say.

He nods with a sigh. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

“Call you tomorrow?”

“Yes.” You affectionately caress his cheek, bringing his face down for the very very very last kiss. 

He leans into it. “Fuck, I don’t want to leave.”

“Seriously—hurry up!” Seowon shouts and you pull back.

“I will kill him,” you tell Jungkook.

“He’s your brother,” he says. “And now, my brother-in-law, so I can’t let you do that.”

“That might be your very first red flag, Jungkook, insinuating that you’re choosing my brother over me.” You cross your arms. “Tell me, if the both of us were drowning, would you save me or Seowon?”

“You,” he answers without missing a beat.

You narrow your eyes. “Is that the truth?”

“Of course. Seowon would probably undrown himself anyway and you’re shit at swimming. It’s an easy choice.”

You punch him hard on the shoulder and he feigns hurt, snickering. “For the record, I don’t think anyone can ‘undrown’ themselves—but fine, you pass the test.”

Jungkook faces Seowon’s direction and does a final salute, your brother returning it swiftly, and just like that, you and him share your last farewells. You watch as he goes through the entrance of the base and sends you a wave of goodbye; you weakly copy the gesture and stand there for a few seconds, just watching him fade from your view the further he trudges inside. You don’t think saying goodbye to him ever felt this heavy, and you blame it on the fact that after all this is the first time you’re saying goodbye to him with the assurance that he loves you too—and that alone weighs millions.

You spin on your heel and go to Seowon who’s already in the driver’s seat. As soon as you get in and wear your seat belt, he’s giving you a dirty look.

“What?” you ask.

“Please never do that in front of me again.”

His statement makes you smirk. “Why? Didn’t you want this?”

“Want what?”

“Me and Jungkook to be together.”

“When on earth did I say that?”

“You previously admitted that you were lowkey playing cupid by suggesting that Jungkook marry me for health insurance.”

A short pause. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I have to watch you two reenact a porno every fucking time.”

“We’re not—”

“You are. Don’t deny it.” He grumbles. “God, every time I see you two, it’s like I’m Ross from that one Friends episode where he accidentally sees Monica and Chandler doing it from the window of his apartment.”

“Yeah, I remember that.” You laugh. “In my defense, you haven’t seen me and Jungkook actually do the deed so—”

“Wait, so the two of you have?”

Your expression drops. His tone is approaching older brother protectiveness territory and you’re quick to attempt diffusing the situation. “I will not dive into that. All I’m going to say is that I’m a grown adult and so is Jungkook.”

He grimaces before starting the engine. “Yeah, never dive into that. I don’t need to hear the details.”

You share a laugh and then silence fills the car.

You press your lips together, looking at him while he backs out from the parking spot. “Hey, thanks, by the way. For driving today, and for offering to help me later, and maybe for also never minding your own business.”

You recall how Seowon was the one who couldn’t stop worrying about you and finding a solution when you told your family that you had type 1 diabetes. Your parents were concerned, they pestered you for months to force you to accept financial assistance from them, but they gave up soon after. Seowon though? He never did. He persisted through every outburst you had; he tolerated your bitchiness and your dirty looks all the time. Out of everyone in your life, you always felt like regardless of how stubborn and prideful you could be, Seowon was worse—in the best way possible.

A crooked smile illuminates his face. “You’re my kid sister. It’s my job to never let you experience peace in your whole life.”

You scoff. “Well, you’re damn great at what you do.”

When you reach Jungkook’s apartment, unloading the boxes and arranging your stuff to its designated places, your heart swells in happiness as the reality sinks in that your life is heading in the right direction after months of feeling hopeless. It drives you to be more thankful to the little things, to the people who were always by your side, to your previous circumstance that although wasn’t ideal was still manageable. A lot don’t get to have that kind of privilege and you promise yourself that you’ll make an effort to find more things to be grateful about from this day forward.

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Seowon approaches in the middle of you arranging your books on Jungkook’s near to empty shelf, “Winnie wanted to give you this. She would have handed it over herself but she’s going to be busy for the next few days.”

You take the frame from his hand and see that it’s the picture Winnie took of you and Jungkook after the ceremony. It’s in the restaurant that you ate at to celebrate the civil wedding. Jungkook was grinning at you with an arm around on the backrest of your chair, you were leaning towards him, smiling at the camera—and the absolute selling point of why this was the best picture ever taken was because of how cake icing was scattered on your faces, places on spots in an artistic manner like it was planted there on purpose for the picture and not because the both of you were being silly that instance.

You think it showcases your relationship with Jungkook marvelously. It’s playful, it’s sweet, and most of all, it demonstrates how you two are clearly great friends.

“This is so beautiful, Seowon,” you say.

You immediately send Winnie a heartfelt thank you message for the gift and continue to take a photo of the frame, sending it to Jungkook as well.

Once you hit send, you type out a message to accompany it.

You: look how cute we look 🥹

You’re certain it’ll take hours before he replies so you keep your phone again, going back to staring at the picture which is now placed on one of the shelves. It’s the sole picture frame you have with Jungkook. In fact, it’s the only picture that Jungkook has in his apartment, and you like to think that this might be the mark of the new beginning you’ll have with him. Even though your relationship wouldn’t be traditionally explored given his occupation and how he’s most likely going to be away a lot, you don’t mind.

If there’s one thing you really believe in, it’s that waiting for Jungkook—whether consciously or unconsciously—always brings out the best outcomes.

thank you for reading! as i live for positive reinforcement, feedback is always appreciated ♡

[semification]

- DIE WITH A SMILE . . . VERITAS RATIO ✧.*

Veritas comes to realize that he loves you, but perhaps he comes to that realization far too late.

content: fem reader, death, penacony quest spoilers, angst with comfort (?), blood & injuries, veritas is a meanie (but he INSTANTLY regrets it!1!), friends to (grins evilly) …lovers

authors note: first fic on this account i hope you guys like it <3 i ran out of motivation while writing this halfway can u tell. anyways go stream die with a smile by bruno mars and lady gaga because i was listening to that song on loop while making this fic and i think its a super fitting song for this hehe

wc: 5.9k (its a quick read i promise)

masterlist

“You’re being ridiculous, Veritas.”

Bickering with Dr. Veritas Ratio was not out of the ordinary. In fact, it was a pastime for the two of you, engaging in various academic debates to see which party presented a better argument. It was seen as a great deal of praise to be able to do such a thing with an esteemed man like Veritas. It made it seem like you two stood on the same ground–the same ground of a man who felt so out of reach.

“Oh, really now? I’m the one being ridiculous? I am ‘ridiculous’ simply because I am looking out for your safety, Y/N?”

This… however, this was not normal. This quarrel felt personal, stemming from your feelings instead of facts and objective data. This felt like an attack on your friendship–but from the amount of vile he’s spitting from his mouth, you wonder if Veritas has ever considered you as a friend in the first place.

The more he speaks, the more you are reminded that you didn’t stand on the same ground as him. You felt terrifyingly inferior, and even though he was right in front of you, you felt like you were miles away from him. 

“No, I’m saying you’re ridiculous for calling me weak and incapable because apparently, I’m not good enough to go on this expedition when it’s my fucking job.”

However, you mostly felt like a fool.

You felt like such a fool for falling in love with a man like him. You fell in love with him because of his neverending thirst for knowledge. You fell in love with him because you were just as much of a bibliophile as he was. You fell in love with him because you wanted to spread your knowledge around the universe as much as he wished to. You fell in love with him because, for a moment, you thought he saw you differently from everyone else, and that he truly enjoyed being in your presence.

You turn away from him, tears forming in your eyes. You stubbornly blink them away, because you think back to what started this argument in the first place.

You had just finished detailing your mission to Veritas, which was your routine every time the Intelligentsia Guild dispatched you on some kind of research expedition. This mission was different, however. You would be gone for three months, longer than usual–and the mission was very combat-oriented and dangerous, which wasn’t like your usual expeditions. Despite the warnings, you still accepted it, thinking of it as something new, but nothing that you couldn’t handle.

Veritas seemed to think otherwise, however, because when you peer over to look at his reaction, he looked very displeased. 

(It wasn’t a very uncommon look to see on his face, but you could tell he seemed more serious–like how the frown lines on his face were deeper than usual.)

You weren’t particularly surprised by the expression on his face. What surprised you the most was the first thing that came out of his mouth after hearing your expedition’s rundown. “Are you sure you’ll be able to go on that mission?”

You look at him incredulously, surprised at the amount of distaste in his voice. His displeasure was directed at… you? “What is that supposed to mean, Veritas?”

“I’m saying that you’re too weak and incapable to go on that expedition, Y/N. I do not know why the Guild would assign you such a difficult mission. They truly are overestimating your power.” The words came out of his mouth so casually, like you had just asked him about the weather. Is this how his students feel when they take his infamous course with a passing rate of a mere three percent? How his students feel whenever they get scolded by him?

You just can’t believe it. He said those words like it were a fact—straight from the myriad of encyclopedias that he’s read. Maybe because it was a fact in his head: he saw you as nothing but “weak” and “incapable”.

A stray tear manages to escape from your eye, and you quickly wipe it away angrily before turning back to Veritas with a sniffle. No. You cannot cry in front of his face. Crying is an expression of weakness–of vulnerability. And what you are trying to prove to Veritas is that you are not “weak”. You are not “incapable” either, and you are going to prove that to him by going on this mission and making him eat his words. 

“I will be leaving in three system hours. Do not bother showing up during my departure.”

You cringe at the way your voice shakes at the end, but you stand firm. Those words were the last thing you said to him before leaving his office with a bitter heart. When you exit his room, you finally let your emotions run free, letting the tears stream down your face without end. You quietly sob as you retreat to your own office, closing the door and letting out a shaky exhale, escaping all the nosy whispers and chatter of the Guild members.

You sob at the heartbreaking realization that just when you think you’ve gotten close to the “untouchable” Veritas Ratio, he pushes you away just like how he does to everyone else… because that’s just simply what you are to him. 

Another person who fades into the background, and nothing more.

Dr. Veritas Ratio is a man who exhibits prestige and greatness like no other. Throughout his academic career, he obtained eight PhDs and graduated with the First Class Honors Degree, which hadn’t been awarded to anyone for two Amber Eras. He was gifted with knowledge, and now he uses that knowledge and spreads it far across the cosmos to “cure idiocy”, treating it like a disease that needs to be treated.

And yet, for once in his life, he refuses to admit it out loud, but he’s acted like the one thing that he completely loathed. The very thing that he was trying to exterminate.

An idiot. He was an idiot, and it was all because he could not word himself correctly when he spoke to you. He has written hundreds of papers, essays, and dissertations, but time and time again, he could not seem to think—to be able to formulate the proper words to say when it came to you.

And now, Veritas has royally messed up, and for once in life, he has no idea what to do.

He was just genuinely concerned for your safety. It was all he thought about once you had finished detailing your expedition to him. He wanted to convince you—to pick the right words to say so he could persuade you not to go, but it seems that his fear of being seen as vulnerable shone through first. It reminded him of the days when you two weren’t close; the days he spoke to you while wearing his alabaster head.

He only wears that head because he “can’t bear to see idiots,” but given how he just called you “weak” and “incapable” in the argument that just transpired, one could almost laugh at the hypocrisy of it all. Veritas may as well talk to himself while wearing the alabaster head.

Because only idiots would address you with those terms. 

You were an enigma to Veritas from the very beginning. People from the Intelligentsia Guild rarely stood out to him, but you were different—sticking out like a sore thumb the moment he laid his eyes on you. 

That’s because your presence utterly enchanted him—you had similar tastes in literary works, you matched his sarcasm and topped it off with even wittier replies, and you also wanted to use your knowledge for other people to learn.

You were not weak and incapable. He saw you as anything but that, in fact. He was at fault for the argument, but he can’t bring himself to say it out loud, for Aeon’s sake.

He knows that he owes you an apology, it’s the least he could do... He just needs to apologize, then convince you to not go on that expedition. You’re scheduled to leave soon—approximately two and a half system hours—he still has time.

And yet, his mind is being stubborn. He knows that he needs to apologize, but he just can’t bring himself to. He can’t remember the last time he’s genuinely apologized to someone—an apology without a trace of sarcasm at that.

“Trouble in paradise, doctor?”

He could recognize the esteemed gambler’s voice from miles away, and it irks him how he always seemed to show up at the worst times. Aventurine’s got a knowing gaze on him—a stare that can pierce through any poker face so he could see exactly what they’re thinking. “I suggest not meddling in any business that doesn’t concern you, gambler.”

Except he’s already got him. “This is about Y/N, isn’t it?”

Hook, line, and sinker.

Aventurine believes that one’s eyes are the windows to the soul–and he doesn’t miss the way Veritas’ eyes soften when he says your name, smiling at the unintentional answer to his question. He definitely doesn’t have the best poker face in town. For such a stoic man, he surely cannot put himself together when it comes to anything that has to do with you.

Aeons. Just what were you doing to him?

There was no use hiding it from him, so he just silently nodded, with Aventurine clicking his tongue. “Rumors fly fast in the guild, especially when Dr. Ratio’s dear friend Y/N was seen walking out of his office crying. I just had to see what this was really about, you know?” 

You were crying when you left?

He doesn’t voice his concern out loud, of course. Instead, Veritas just sighs heavily. “All I wanted to do was convince her to not go on that mission that she’s currently dispatched on. It just seems… far too dangerous.”

Aventurine’s got an idea of what happened next considering how you ran out of this room crying, but he decides to ask anyway. “Oh? And how did that work out for you?”

Veritas refuses to meet his gaze, his heart sinking when he simply thinks about what happened earlier. “…”

“At least humor me, doctor.”

He turns away from Aventurine completely, a deep shade of red coating his cheeks. Was it out of embarrassment? Shame? Whatever it was, he didn’t need him to see it. “…I called her weak and incapable.”

When Aventurine doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, Veritas speaks to fill the silence. “I admit, I did not know what was going through my head when I addressed her with those words.”

The uncomfortable silence drags on for a little longer until it’s interrupted by the piercing sound of Aventurine’s laughter. His laugh makes the red spread across Veritas’ cheeks even more—uncharacteristically so, especially since he’s normally so put together. He doesn’t even have the heart to tell Aventurine to stop laughing, because a small huge part of him feels that he deserves this.

He deserves to sit through this feeling because he knows you faced the same humiliation when he shut you out.

“Hahaha! I can’t—“ Aventurine’s nearly keeling over in laughter, and the gambler swears he could feel tears build up in his eyes. “Oh, please! You have such a way with words, don’t you?”

Aventurine continues, failing to conceal his hysteria. “Weak and incapable? If anything, that’ll only fuel the fire. She’d want to go on that mission just to prove you wrong.”

“I’m well aware. It is exactly what happened after all.” You’re leaving soon. The thought of you leaving makes Veritas’ stomach churn, and he has no idea why. Out of all the many expeditions you’ve been sent on, this is the first time he’s felt this way–been filled with so much dread.

“Well,” Aventurine pretends to think for a moment, putting his hand on his chin. “It won’t hurt to sacrifice a little bit of your already enormous ego to apologize to her, no? There’s enough of your pride to go around.” 

I don’t know if I can bring myself to.

Veritas doesn’t say those words out loud. Instead, he masks his worries with a scoff. Aventurine doesn’t have to know. “Watch your mouth, gambler.”

“Oh my, I really struck a nerve there, did I?”

“Researcher Y/N? I’m sorry sir, she just departed a few minutes ago.”

You left.

The three system hours hadn’t even passed yet—there were still two hours before your scheduled departure—and you left early.

You left, and he didn’t even get the opportunity to apologize. 

The researcher could only watch as the great Veritas Ratio, normally so composed, looks away from him wide-eyed and mouth slightly agape. He’s utterly dumbfounded, a look that is never seen on his face. What is he supposed to do now?

You’re too late.

For the next several weeks, Veritas could only wait anxiously for your return. Worry follows him like a cloud, and even his students pick up on his weird behavior. It’s all so grueling—waiting for you without so much of an idea of how you’re doing or if your expedition is going well. 

While waiting for your return, he plans out his actions for the next time he sees you. He doesn’t want to apologize over text–Veritas sees it as inappropriate and prefers to show his sincerity in person. Face-to-face is how he is going to do it, and he sends you a message in preparation for that. “I’d like for us to talk when you’re back. Please message me immediately upon your arrival.”

…Except an error message stares at him back when he presses the send button. It’s almost mocking him in a sense, like the universe is doing everything in its power to prevent him from atoning for his mistakes. Of course you weren’t going to have signal when you’re so far away from him. Just what was he expecting?

You were scheduled to return after another few weeks, and Veritas could only prepare for the days to pass by excruciatingly slowly. Until then, he thinks over what he’s going to say for his apology. Maybe he could give you something too. He thinks that finding a way to get your favorite flowers is a nice start.

You’re tired.

Exhaustion envelops you like a blanket, and after trying your hardest to resist, you just can’t anymore.

You’re so tired. 

You finally succumb to the fatigue, falling onto the ground as your sword clatters with a thud. You lay there, lying in a pool of your own blood, accepting that this was the cruel fate that the great Aeons above bestowed upon you in the end. You laugh at the absurdity of it all, but it only comes out as a weak cough, which quickly transitions into a fit of hacking up crimson droplets—lighting your throat on fire.

It was a fragmentum monster ambush. The planet you were exploring contained a lot of them–mainly due to the Stellaron corrosion that it was experiencing. After three weeks of exploring, it was supposed to be just another day of collecting data and extracting information for the guild. You’ve done this countless times already–anything out of the ordinary happening was beyond you.

The ambush had occurred when you least expected it–you barely even had the time to draw out your sword. One thing led to another, and at some point, there were just too many of them that leaving the battle unscathed was out of the question. And at the end of it, you were a mess, standing in a field of bodies with blood sticking to your clothes–a mix of the fragmentum and your own. The worst part was that it was mainly your own, with the source coming from a deep gash in your abdomen. You were losing blood at a terrifying rate.

Panic fills your veins once you fully process the gravity of the situation. Heart thumping, you realize that you’re going to die–and you are going to die alone.

What a pitiful end this was.

You’ve sent a distress call to the guild, but you know that your fate has been sealed already. You’ll be long gone before anyone will be here to help you, and they’d just be here to clean up your remains. You hope that the guild would at least grant you a proper funeral.

It’s truly comical how fate works. People your age are usually too busy thinking about marriage, or deciding how many kids they want to have in the near future. And yet, here you are, on the precipice of reaching death’s door, thinking about your funeral. 

Your vision turns blurry, and you sniffle as hot tears begin to roll down your cheeks. Fuck, you don’t want to die. There are far too many things that you haven’t done. And yet, you can’t find the strength to continue on either. You’re just so, so tired.

In the midst of your cries, you softly mumble out a name. A name that you love, hate, and everything in between with a passion.

“…Veritas.”

You initially wanted to go on this mission with the intent of exploring this planet, but after the argument, you know you went mainly because you wanted to prove him wrong.

You wonder if he truly meant those words. Even if he didn’t, maybe he was right, because look at what your determination had cost you–lying in a pool of your own blood, all because you wanted Veritas to see that you weren’t weak and incapable.

Even though you went on this expedition angry at him, (a part of you still is angry) you’ve never wanted to see him so badly in your life. You were going to die with many regrets–perhaps the biggest one was that you never got to tell Veritas how you truly feel about him.

You just want to see him once last time. Is it selfish to ask for one more day with him? One more hour… or to engage in at least one more heated debate. Hell, you’d even take one more minute with him. And in that minute, maybe you’d slap him in the face for what happened. But maybe you’d tell him you love him and kiss him over and over, apologizing for even thinking about slapping his stupidly perfect face. 

Despite how much of an asshole he can be at times, you love Veritas Ratio. You love his snark and sarcasm and everything about him, and you’re going to die without even knowing if he loves you back. This is your biggest regret.

No, you can’t die like this. You need to tell him. You have to.

As darkness starts to cloud your vision, you use all of your remaining strength to pull your phone out from your pocket despite the wound in your abdomen screaming in protest. Your fingers shakily make their way to Veritas’ contact, and with a pained breath, you begin to type.

“Take me to where she sent the distress call, now.”

There was a bunch of commotion in the guild—too much commotion considering how early it was. Veritas could only wonder what all the clamor was about, but he froze once he heard your name leave one of the researcher’s mouths. 

And his biggest nightmare is now a reality once someone finally fills him in on the situation: Your signal had disappeared off the radar, but not after you sent a distress call to the guild. You needed help, yet you were so far from his grasp. “But Doctor, we-“

“I need not repeat myself. Her life is in grave danger, and yet here you are, arguing with me and wasting precious time when this time could be used saving her.” His words surprised both himself and the guild member, who shakily nodded at his request. Veritas was certain that if you were just anybody else, he could have less of a care about your distress signal. But no, this was you—and he needed to make sure that you were okay.

Veritas looked calm and collected on the outside, but on the inside, he was falling apart. Calm yourself, you need to be the strong one in this situation. She’s the one in danger here.

Aeons, all he had to do was convince you to not go on this expedition. Instead, he made everything worse with his poor choice of words, and now he’s paying the price for it. He could only hope that he wasn’t too late.

Wait for me Y/N. Please. That’s all I ask.

In his office, there’s a bouquet of your favorite flowers resting on his desk, and they’ve slowly begun to wither away.

When Veritas finally arrived at where you were last seen on the signal, there were bodies littered everywhere, and he could only hope that none of them were yours. Paired with those bodies was the color red—crimson was scattered all over, and it was practically all he could see. Did you take all of these fragmentum down by yourself?

As Veritas inspected all of the fragmentum bodies, all slain by a single blade, one of the researchers accompanying him pointed out a trail of blood leaving the site. It makes him freeze, because it might be…

“Y/N.”

Shit.

He immediately goes after the trail without an ounce of hesitation. The scene laid before him is something that has only haunted him in his nightmares, yet at this very moment, it lies before him as a terrifying reality. 

His blood runs cold, and for the first time in his life, Veritas Ratio is rendered speechless.

Your limp body lies in front of him, in a pool of so much blood that just seeing it sickens him to his stomach. He can’t feel his own body as he falls to his knees, paying no mind to the other researchers around him. No, right now, it was just you and Veritas. Nobody else.

With trembling hands, he pulls your body close to his own as your blood taints his clothing. Even though he knows you’re too far gone already, he can’t help but try to feel your pulse, because there’s a part of him that just refuses to believe that he’s too late.

There was nothing.

It probably hasn’t been beating for a while, and that thought leaves him utterly empty, with a single stray tear rolling down his cheek.

If he were just a little bit faster, maybe he could’ve saved you. If he could’ve just formulated his words correctly so he could convince you not to go on this expedition. If he could’ve just apologized…

If he could’ve just been… a better friend.

All these could haves, yet Veritas didn’t act on any of them.

Pathetic.

Your phone is beside you, and Veritas gingerly picks it up. The screen was still lit, despite it being shattered to oblivion. It was open to the messaging app—specifically his contact.

It was never sent due to poor signal, but you were messaging him before you died. He was your last thought.

“I’m sorry Veritas. I just don’t want you to think I’m weak and incapable.”

“Still, I want you to remember that”

You were the one apologizing to him, even after everything was said and done. He can’t even fathom that.

And weak and incapable, huh. You were anything but that. If anything, Veritas was the weak and incapable one. He was weak for not being able to swallow his pride even if he was the one in the wrong—and he was incapable of simply apologizing to you.

And the last message… What is it supposed to mean? 

What do you want him to remember?

When Veritas was sent to Penacony and matters with the head of the Oak family, Sunday, had been dealt with, he was finally allowed to leave. It was the first mission the guild had assigned him since you left, and his efforts to prevent Aventurine from going on an all-out suicide mission helped Veritas take his thoughts away from you, even if it was just for a moment.

And yet, you always find your way back to haunt him. Not even the Land of Dreams could prevent that.

Still, he had done his part, sorted out his deals in Penacony as a representative sent by the guild, and it was time to go.

It’s been a few months since your death, and Veritas thinks that living without you is like living without the sun. It’s funny how he’s only realized how much you’ve changed his life only after you’ve gone. You lit up his life, both metaphorically and physically—and now, everything feels so dull, and he constantly longs for your presence in the darkness. 

But now you’re gone, and he feels so terribly lost, even now as he does paperwork in his office. Life became way more monotonous after you had left. The quiet is suffocating, because Veritas can only think about the times that the quiet office was filled with your voice instead. 

Even now, in the rare moments that Veritas picks up a book nowadays, he thinks about how much you would have enjoyed it as well.

Paperwork is one of the few things that he finds solace in anymore, as it helps him drown out his thoughts so they don’t end up drifting back to you.

…You.

His eyes land on your sword before he can even do anything about it, and he swallows thickly. Your blade is displayed on his wall, another way for Veritas to show his honor for you. 

The blade you singlehandedly used to defeat all those monsters, and the blade you’ll never be able to wield again.

He tears his eyes away from it before his thoughts can spiral again. He can feel his vision start to blur, and he blinks the tears away before they escape. He wonders how many tears he’s shed for you since you’ve been gone.

Veritas tries and fails to focus on his paperwork once more until he’s interrupted by a knock at the door.

He thinks a walk will do him good.

He stands up from his desk and slowly walks over to his office door, wondering who it could be. He rarely gets visitors nowadays, unless it’s something that’s of utmost importance. Everyone else is afraid to talk to him, as Veritas became… colder after your death.

If anyone were to ask why—it’s because when you died, a part of Veritas did too.

He turns the door’s handle, only to see…

You.

You were standing right in front of him, in the same outfit that you were in the day you left for your mission. Except this time, you were alive, and Veritas has no idea what to think.

You’re the first one to break the silence, whispering his name. “Veritas?”

Hearing you say his name feels like he can finally breathe again. “Y/N? Is it really you?”

Before you can even answer his question, he engulfs you in a tight hug, breathing in your scent. Veritas held you like his life depended on it—because at this moment, it felt like it did. He says the words that hve been on his mind for the past few months. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry darling. If only I hadn’t-“

You pull back from the hug, putting your pointer finger against his lips as a signal for him to stop talking. Barely even registering the endearing name that he called you, you smile, cupping his cheeks before sighing tenderly. “I’ve forgiven you a long time ago, Veritas.”

He only hugs you tighter, coming to a revelation that only makes the pain in his heart ever worsen. He saw your lifeless body himself, he paid respects to your body at your funeral… and he laid your favorite flowers on top of your gravesite where your body rested, even though those flowers were supposed to be an apology gift. “You’re… not real.”

“I’m still in Penacony, right? This is all a dream.”

You smile, nodding in conformation. “Nothing truly gets past you, does it? You’re dreaming what you desire the most right now.”

“I promise you that we will meet again, Veritas. it will not be today, but the day will eventually come, and I’ll be waiting for you every step of the way.” You breathe in deeply. “But right now, you need to wake up from this dream, before it's too late.”

He’s not sure if he wants to wake up, though.

“But what if… I just want to stay here with you?”

“We both know it’s not what you really want.” You can see right through him. “If you stay with me in this dream, you’ll be living nothing but a simulated life. I may be here with you, but you’ll never truly fill that hole in your heart, because I am not Y/N. I’m just a creation of your deepest desires, and you know that I’ll never be her. That is not a life worth living.”

“I know she would want you to live your life to the fullest, to truly experience things, to teach your students unforgettable lessons… so they become great people like you.” You pause, looking right into his eyes. They’re filled with pain, sorrow, and the desire to cling on to the past. “And when your time comes eventually, she will be waiting for you. You will apologize once again, because you never got to apologize to her before she died, but she has forgiven you long ago, and it’s all because…”

Despite that, you have to teach him that it’s time to let go. “She wants you to remember that she loves you, Veritas Ratio.”

“Still, I want you to remember that… I love you.”

A tear rolls down his cheek at your words, and then another…. and another. “Even if I don’t know how to apologize?”

You let out a watery laugh, nodding your head. “Even if you don’t know how to apologize.”

“Then… I will do as she asks. It is the least I can do to make up for what I’ve done.” He says, and he takes a deep breath before his next words. “Can I… hug you one last time? Even though you aren’t… actually her.”

“Go ahead, Veritas. But I’m afraid that after this, you have to let go.”

You need to let go.

He nods before wrapping his arms around your figure. It was such a vulnerable act, like a man putting the entirety of his heart and soul out for you to take. He breathes in your scent, wanting to take it in once last time before he has to bid you goodbye. You feel a few of his tears staining your clothing, but you pay it no mind. 

How many tears has he shed for you since you’ve been gone? Not enough. He doesn’t feel that it’ll ever be enough.

When he opens his eyes, you’re slowly fading away from him. There’s a melancholic smile on your face, your eyes meeting his—filled with pain, sorrow, a desire to cling onto the past, and yet… a hint of acceptance.

“Still, I want you to remember that… I love you.”

Yes, he remembers. And he’ll remember your words for the rest of his life, until the moment that he leaves this cosmos on his deathbed. He’s just hoping that you’ll wait long enough for him to say it back.

Before you’re about to fade away completely, you lean in one last time and whisper to him…

“It’s time to wake up, Veritas.”

He wakes up from the dream pool with a gasp. The water splashes around him, and a few stray tears roll down his cheeks. 

The rest of his actual Penacony trip went by surprisingly smoothly, and he doesn’t mention the dream that he had to anyone. It was like a secret shared between you and Veritas–and he was going to treasure that secret forever. 

And now, the Charmony Festival has commenced, and the fireworks have begun. As he watches the sparks explode into thousands of dazzling rays of light above, he pulls out his phone to text you. Almost like one final goodbye, because he knows it’s what you would’ve wanted.

“I love you too, Y/N. I will love you my entire lifetime–past beyond the boundaries of eternity, even after all the stars long die out in the cosmos.

I long for the day that we will meet again… because then, I’ll finally be able to tell you this confession in person. For now, I hope you can continue to find the patience to keep waiting for me. 

…Until the stars align, and we’re able to see each other once again.”

He looks up to the endless bursts of blazing rays lighting up the night, mixed with the eternal shine of the cosmos. It was truly a sight to behold. And for a split second, he could feel someone by his side watching the fireworks with him. It warmed his heart, even if it were just for a moment. 

“Aren’t these fireworks beautiful, Veritas?”

“They will never be as enchanting as you, Y/N.”

[bbyobbyo]

Ever since you stopped using his Spotify account in the mornings, you find other ways to mess with your boyfriend.

A short continuation of this fic, but can be read as a standalone.

content: fluff, established relationship, idol!Jihoon, banter, reader and jihoon just have a permanent jam session going on, they’re in love i swear

wc: 857

note: ahhh they’re back!! thank you to everyone who read the first part and gave it love😊 this has been rotting my brain for a while and i originally was playing with this concept for the original but couldn’t pull it together but we’re here now! shoutout to @highvern because it was partly inspired by her fic “Between the Titles” which is such a great read that i highly recommend along with literally everything else she writes!! all the songs featured here are real and from an era of kpop I hold near and dear to my heart so if you recognize any of them, you’re a real one 🥰

Jihoon is not a morning person, never has been. As he sits in the dressing room of the filming studio, he can feel his eyelids getting increasingly heavy. Some of his members are actively sleeping, in fact, and Jihoon knows he’ll be joining them soon if Wonwoo takes any longer in that makeup chair.

Blasting in his ears is his usual Bruno Mars playlist, a sad attempt to try to recover his energy before he knocks out next to Mingyu sleeping on a mat on the floor, but to no avail because his mind slowly slips away until a piercing airhorn noise jolts him awake.

SEVENTEEN TEEN TEEN NEOWANA SAI E

Uhh. This was definitely not his Daily Bruno Mars Mix.

He immediately searches his screen to find out what happened when he finds his answer in the form of a text from you.

[8:18 am] good morning sleepyhead :)

[8:18 am] hope I didnt scare you too bad :)

He scrunches his face up in disbelief, half amused that you managed to catch him off guard with possibly the most annoying wake up song on Seventeen’s discography, and half annoyed at the realization that he must’ve forgotten to cancel your Spotify Jam session from yesterday.

He decides to leave your text on read. After all, he has plenty of time to be petty today. Furiously searching through his library, he queues up a song and before Mingyu can finish singing the first chorus, he smashes the next track button in smug anticipation.

Now Playing: Fxxk U • Gain, Bumkey

And he doesn’t have to wait long before he gets your reply.

[8:20 am] oh i see how it is

Now Playing: This is War • MBLAQ

If Jihoon wasn’t awake before, he definitely is now. Even as he gets called in to do his makeup next, he thinks carefully about his next move.

Now Playing: LOSER • BIGBANG

…

Now Playing: WHO, YOU? • G-DRAGON

An audible scoffs escapes from his lips as he involuntarily tilts his head back in amusement, much to the dismay of his makeup artist who had just started on his foundation. He mutters a shy sorry before resuming his search for a reply. Maybe he needs to take a different approach to this if he hopes to continue having Jam sessions with you in the future.

Now Playing: Whatcha Doin’ Today • 4Minute

As Jihoon eventually discovers, his hopes to change the topic of conversation were in vain as two songs were suddenly queued one after another.

Now Playing: Why Don’t You Know • CHUNG HA, Nucksal

Next in Queue: Mind Your Own Business • Ailee

Jihoon thinks he’s met his match, coming to the realization that he could never out sass the love of his life. But he wasn’t willing to back down so easily either.

Now Playing: I’m so sick • Apink

Next in Queue: Because of you • After School

Your next move nearly sends him to tears.

Now Playing: Excuse Me • AOA

Next in Queue: You Don’t Love Me • Spica

Next in Queue: I ain’t going home tonight • Navi, Geeks

Next in Queue: I Don’t Need a Man • miss A

As he chuckles to himself for what seems like the hundredth time this morning, this newfound form of entertainment suddenly becomes incredibly precious. Although you see each other nearly every day, Jihoon realizes just how much he misses you, talking to you about everything and nothing at all, bantering like you’ve known each other for your entire lives.

Now Playing: Am I too easy? • U-KISS

...

Now Playing: Mystery • Beast

Even though he couldn’t be with you physically, he knew you were enjoying yourself just as much as him on the other side. He could almost picture your smile of satisfaction as you found your next song, knowing that he would appreciate your humor. And appreciate he did, happily tapping away at his screen until his makeup artist puts on his finishing touches and tells him to call the next member.

Now Playing: Gotta Go • CHUNG HA

Next in Queue: I’m Busy • 2NE1

Next in Queue: Plz Don’t Be Sad • HIGHLIGHT

…

Now Playing: Okay Dokey • MINO, ZICO

Little does he know that his members are in the corner snickering at the sight, knowing that only one thing could have their producer smiling like an idiot at his phone the whole morning.

Soon enough, Jihoon and his members get swept up into their schedule involving the filming of various contents for their Youtube Channel, a task that usually takes the entire day if a game is involved. Thankfully, the game allowed for members to go home early, a rare treat considering how competitive his members can get when it comes to shooting content.

After his usual rounds of “good work everyone” to the company staff and his members, he gets ready to see the person who been on his mind (and in his ears) since the morning. Taking out his phone, he queues one last song while exiting the building.

Now Playing: Run to you • SEVENTEEN

[devilyn]

stay by my side | tsukishima kei

— now playing: die with a smile by bruno mars & lady gaga

If the world was ending I'd wanna be next to you If the party was over And our time on Earth was through I'd wanna hold you just for a while And die with a smile

— synopsis: getting tsukishima kei to say 'I love you' more often is harder than you'd think

— genre: only a tinge of hurt, more comfort, needy tsukki

— word count: 1k

The first thing he sees every morning is you. The last thing he sees before he closes his eyes for the night is always you.

No matter what may be happening between the two of you, the reassurance of knowing you'd be there in the morning and at the end of the day always calmed his tumultuous heart. 

So when he opens his eyes in the middle of the night and you're not there, he jolts up in a panic.

His hand quickly skims across your side of the bed, briefly wondering if he may be delirious in his half-asleep state. When he notices the sheets are still warm, he grabs his glasses and slips out of bed in a hurry.

The kitchen, the bathroom, and the living room are empty. When he finally stops to catch his breath, he notices your keys aren't hanging by the front door, an indication that you've left the apartment.

The realization makes his heart stop.

He should've apologized earlier. He should've known you'd get sick of him. You were always so patient with him, letting him keep you at arm's length for the first year of your relationship while he got used to skinship and physical affection. You even dealt with his mood swings, and communicated openly with him as much as possible so he could understand your perspective when the two of you fought.

And yet, he reversed all that progress last night when he ignored your feelings.

How can he expect you to read between the lines all the time? He had previously promised you he wouldn't treat you like that again, and yet he took advantage of your endless patience and did it again.

“Kei?”

His head turns quickly, wide eyes meeting your surprised gaze. You're standing against the front of your apartment building in your pajamas. He's certain he looks even more disheveled, having just rolled out of bed in a panic.

“What're you doing out of bed?” He asks quickly, stepping over to stand in front of you.

Your gaze softens, and his uneasy heart finally finds a moment to relax at the sight of you right in front of him.

“Just needed some fresh air, couldn't sleep,” you say softly. There's a moment of silence between the two of you before you reach up and gently brush your fingers over his jaw.

He can't help but close his eyes and relax into your touch. He let's himself indulge in the moment further, his own hand resting on top of your own to keep your palm against his cheek. 

“I don't want to.”

“Kei, please,” you pleaded, “I just want an ‘I love you' every once in a while. I'm not asking you to profess your love to me everyday.”

“I don't think it's needed. You know I do, why do I need to say it too?” He grumbled, setting his glasses down on the bedside table. 

“Hearing you say it and convincing myself that your actions mean something are two different things,” you retorted, and you frowned at the way he rolled his eyes.

The two of you have been arguing over the same thing ever since you brought it up at the dinner table just a couple of hours ago.

“Don't be stupid,” he finally snapped, and he ignored the hurt that flashed through your eyes. “Just go to bed. I'm sick of having this talk with you.”

He turned his back towards you, but he still heard your shaky ‘okay, goodnight’.

“What're you doing out here?” you repeat his question, tilting your head curiously. 

He hesitates to answer, eyes still closed as if doing so could buy him more time.

He's sure you saw the panic in his eyes when he heard you call his name. In truth, he wasn't entirely sure why he panicked so much. The thought of you not next to him sent a coldness down his spine that he just couldn't live with. 

“...came to find you,” he finally answers, amber eyes opening to meet your gaze.

The hand on his cheek slides up to gently run through his tousled blonde bed head.

“I'm not going anywhere,” you whisper softly.

His heart skips a beat, and he can't help it anymore. His arms reach out to wrap around your waist, tugging you close so he can bury his face in the crook of your neck.

You saw right through him, reading him like a book.

“I thought you left me,” he admits, voice shaking. One of your hands rests gently on the back of his head, the other lightly running up and down his broad back.

“Where would I go?” you try to joke, “my home is right here with you, Kei.” 

You squashed his insecurities almost instantly with just a couple of words. Your ability to ease all his worries so seemingly easily always amazed him. 

“I love you,” he confesses suddenly, and he feels the way your frame shakes as you laugh quietly. 

He wants to provide that same comfort and sense of stability you give him. If saying ‘I love you’ more often was what you needed to feel that, then he'd do it.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers quietly after his confession. When he pulls back slightly to scan your expression, you're staring up at him with that look in your eyes. That look that tells him--’I love you more than I can even express’. 

Your fingers reach up to cup both his cheeks, tugging him down so you can kiss him gently.

“I love you too,” you decide to settle with those four words, and he rests his forehead against yours.

“Don't leave me,” he murmurs.

“I'm not leaving you,” you promise.

“Stay with me,” he quietly requests.

“I will, I'm not leaving you,” you reassure him again, and there's a hint of a smile on your lips. “Though, I sort of like seeing you this vulnerable.”

He rolls his eyes and makes a move to pull away from you. You catch him with a laugh, arms wrapping around his waist.

“...I'll tell you I love you more often,” he admits defeat almost begrudgingly, and you smile up at him.

“Okay,” you whisper, “Thank you.”

“Can we go back to bed now?” 

He slips his hand into yours, and the way your fingers instinctively lace with his own melts his heart.

“Yeah, let's go home.”

[koqabear]

Wish Me Luck?

♫: Wake Up In The Sky, Bruno Mars

“In which working with these two makes your life impossible— because they’re annoying, and won’t leave you alone— you try your best to ignore them but sometimes, it’s too tempting.”

hueningkai x fem!reader x taehyun

Genre: pwp, rockstar au, makeup artist!reader, smut

Word count: 6.2K

Warnings: genuinely like.. none, i think. 

Smut Warnings: dom!tae, dom!huening, sub!mc, threesome, unprotected sex, they’re both pervs sorry, use of mirrors(?), pet names (pretty, doll, cutie, etc.) dry humping, slight marking, handjob, fingering, hair pulling, spanking, praise, masturbation, slight exhibitionism?, multiple orgasms, creampie(s), lmk if i should add anything!

Notes: part of a rockstar!txt mini series. lowkey gave up on formatting so if shows don’t tell me. anyways! happy birthday to my bf huening 😁 again this was like… barely edited so it’s a little uhh… idk. enjoy, hopefully..

There are many perks that come with the rockstar lifestyle— money, clothes, fame, women.

Taehyun tries to take advantage of it all— and he has, though he finds that the last perk is reserved for someone more… special. 

Taehyun is currently in his favorite place to be before a concert— the makeup station, of course. This could mean many things for him; a chance for him to rest, a relaxing time to get his hair and makeup done, able to get perfectly dolled up just for him to ruin it all during his shows. 

But that’s not the reasoning at all— rather, his reasoning lies with the pretty makeup artist who, unfortunately, is not tending to him today. 

It takes a bit of enjoyment out of the experience— however, he will say that he’s not complaining about the view he’s getting now, watching the way you tend to Kai and touch his face as though he’s made of glass with a fond smile; before he can control himself, his eyes fall to the cute skirt you’re wearing today, a tug of guilt hitting his stomach at the way he feels slightly disappointed upon the realization that they have built-in safety shorts— what can he say? It was always a total accident when he looked over to you bent over, pretty ass on display as you worked diligently on the member assigned. 

Hueningkai, Taehyun notices, definitely isn’t faring well with your proximity to him. Unlike Taehyun, who’s always dying to get his hands on you and keep you to himself, Hueningkai has always preferred to watch from a distance— so to have you here, taking over his senses with the alluring perfume you use and feeling your delicate fingers brush against his skin as you do his makeup— well, safe to say Hueningkai is practically meditating to not pop a boner then and there. 

“___, have you been busy? I barely see you around anymore,” Taehyun asks, peeking up from his phone and over to the next chair where you continue to meddle with Hueningkai, standing back to observe your work before you’re jumping at the sound of your name. 

“Well, I’ve been assigned to the rookie group the company debuted, you know,” you sigh out, having had this conversation more times than you can remember as you reach to brush away a stray hair from Hueningkai’s forehead; you watch as his eyes flutter shut and his brows twitch, and you wonder if you may have irritated him as you press your lips together. 

“That’s unfair…” Taehyun pouts softly, pretending as though his phone is much more interesting as he continues to sneak glances at you, eyes darkening at how cute you look while concentrating, not paying attention to Taehyun’s words as you begin applying lip tint to Hueningkai, “They’re taking my makeup artist away from me, I don’t like this one bit.”

“I’m not your makeup artist,” you fuss, sighing in exasperation as you take a step back from Hueningkai; you tell him to open his eyes as you take in the final result, smiling softly in satisfaction as you observe your work on him— looking at Taehyun, you cross your arms, frowning at the way you catch him staring at you already, “I’m the company’s makeup artist. Who I get assigned to work on is entirely up to them, so I don’t get why you’re acting like this right now.”

“Is it wrong to want a pretty girl to do my makeup?” He asks, and your face twists as you watch his current makeup artist throw an incredulous glance your way— just as you’re about to turn and leave, you’re surprised to find Hueningkai grabbing your wrist and pulling you back to him. 

“My hair,” he mumbles quietly, so soft you almost missed it— you lean down to try and hear him better, unaware of the way his eyes dart down to your low neckline and your lips that pout in concentration, “Can you fix it? It’s… different now.”

As far as you’re concerned, he looks completely fine; you’re quick to tell him that as well, only to see as he insists that it was different before you worked on his makeup. 

“Well if you want, I can go get your hairdresser—“ you begin, only to stop short at the feeling of Hueningkai’s grip tightening slightly. 

“But you can do it, no?”

God, these two were impossible. 

Their behavior was nothing new to you, and you oftentimes found yourself the victim of teasing as your coworkers poked fun at the way the two seemed to be attached to you like lost puppies— you always tried to refute such claims, but the way they constantly wanted you around them really didn’t help. 

“You can do it, ___,” Taehyun says, and you feel a bit bad for his makeup artist as he moves to look at you, “Gives us an excuse to keep you here a bit longer.”

Out of the two, Taehyun is much more blunt— but that doesn’t mean you’re used to it, feeling your face grow hot at his words as you attempt once more to run away— it’s all in vain of course, because Hueningkai is tugging you back and giving you a look that almost makes your knees buckle.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this.

“Please.”

Nothing about that is a request. He looks up at you with lidded, dazed eyes, and you find yourself complying hesitantly the longer he looks at you like he’ll devour you any second. You don’t even know what he wants his hair to look like— so you go with his usual ruffled look, his long dark hair soft under your fingers as you stand in front of him and run through the locks with mousse. 

You try to keep a straight face the whole time; even when Taehyun continues to make baiting comments at you, complimenting you with a deep purr as he tries to get your attention back on him— even as you feel the way Hueningkai can’t take his eyes off you, much bolder than usual as you bite your lip and hover over him, quick hands desperate to finish his styling. 

Your hands freeze in his hair as you feel something warm on the back of your thigh. 

That something warm serves as Hueningkai’s hand, resting on your skin as he simply continues to look up at you innocently, chewing his gum and tilting his head as though to ask what’s wrong? 

You try to contain the shiver that runs through you as his thumb begins to softly caress your skin, venturing under the cloth of your safety shorts for a moment before he’s moving it back down.

“Something wrong?” Taehyun drawls out, and a glance at him shows that his makeup artist has left— it’s just you three, and your brows knit together as you take in the way his makeup isn’t done yet, “You look like you just saw a ghost.”

You’re shaken out of your reverie at his words; putting the finishing touches, you step away from Hueningkai, feeling the way his hand is reluctant to leave your skin, his arm falling limply at his side as he stares at you with hungry curiosity. 

“I think I’m done here,” you breathe out, attempting to hide your shaky hands as you place them behind your back, “Make sure you’re changed and ready in time for the show.”

Bowing politely, you make your way to the exit— only to be stopped the moment you pass Taehyun, an exasperated sound leaving you involuntarily as he takes your hand and tugs you back to him. 

“Are you done?” he asks, sparkly eyes not enough to conceal his mischief as he tilts his head to the side, “There’s nothing missing here?”

Of course something is missing. Taehyun doesn’t have his lip tint on, but you refuse to point it out as you hum softly, pretending to be in thought for a second before you finally shake your head no.

“No?” he pouts— he’s then puckering his lips, nodding his head toward you and sending you a kiss as he smiles coyly, “Are you sure?”

“You seem to be missing…” you grit out, watching as he raises his brows expectantly, as though encouraging you to finish your train of thought, “Your lip…tint.”

“Oh. You think so?” he asks, looking back at the mirror and swiping a finger across his lips before he hums, “Could you do it for me, please? I’ve always loved how you left my lips all pretty.”

You’re inhaling slowly to not turn on your heels and run away— not because you don’t want to do your job, but because you’re anxious about what might happen if you’re left alone in a room with these two for a moment longer; all you know is that if the way they look at you serves as any indicator, then they’re definitely up to no good.

“My lips always look like candy with the combo you use,” he continues, watching as you go to the vanity to search for the products you usually use for him— after a moment, you’re turning to him, products in one hand a small lip brush in the other— your eyes meet his, and you’re slightly startled with the way he suddenly leans forward, eerily close to you as his eyes flicker down to the way your lips part in a silent gasp, “Don’t you think so?”

“I’ve never thought of it like that,” you mutter swiftly, immediately getting to work in hopes that Taehyun can just shut up for once— he does, but you’re still left at the mercy of his intense stare, trying to pretend as though his proximity isn’t enough to make you feel nervous.

“You look really pretty today ___,” It’s Hueningkai’s turn to torment you— if you weren’t so focused on Taehyun, you would’ve scoffed, opting instead to let out a noncommittal hum instead. 

“Are you doing anything after the show?”

He says that as you’re finally stepping away from Taehyun; silently, you’re happy for the timing of his words, because you know that you would’ve messed up Taehyun’s makeup from your surprise— which would’ve meant you staying longer to fix it. 

“No,” you say, refusing to elaborate even if their curious stares silently plead you to— turning around, you continue to ignore them as you put your stuff away, pretending as though you weren’t rushing in hopes to leave quicker. 

“Taehyun and I are going out for drinks after to celebrate the end of the tour,” He says quietly, and you make the mistake of looking up at him through the mirror— he’s looking at you of course, though the way his dark makeup only makes his eyes look more intense doesn’t help you at all— softly, he smiles. 

“You should come with. Our treat.”

“Oh, I— I don’t know, I don’t wanna be a bother,” you stutter out, your nonchalant demeanor beginning to slip the moment you see them stand up behind you, shaky hands rushing to zip your makeup case shut, “I should really get going now, you two still need to change—“

“Yeah, but what’s the rush?” You’re fucking trapped— they stand on either side of you, looming dangerously and looking at you as though you’re nothing but a treat for them to devour— you can feel their breaths fanning on each side of your neck as you attempt to close yourself off pathetically, trying to take a step back before you feel two hands on you— one on the small of your back, the other on your hip as they both push you back against the vanity; the startled yelp you let out is embarrassing, your hands flying down to support yourself from how firmly they push you forward. 

“We have well over an hour to finish getting ready,” Taehyun breathes out, lips brushing against your jaw as he lets out a soft sigh, “And that’s a lot of time, isn’t it?”

Hueningkai hums in agreement; his hand is the one on your hip as it rubs soothing circles, leaning down to where you hang your head and sending you a misleading smile.

“We should do something to pass the time.”

God, were they always this close? They’re filling your senses and making you dizzy, your hands beginning to ache from how hard you’re gripping the edge of the vanity as you simply gulp in response. Their lips are soft and fucking sticky from the gloss you just put on them, leaving kiss marks along your skin as they kiss you softly, mumbling compliments and praise that you can barely get through your head from how dizzy you feel. 

“Do you know that we try to request you for every show?” Taehyun asks, watching the way your eyes flutter shut as Hueningkai begins to trail kisses down your neck, open-mouthed and sultry as he nips at your skin teasingly, “Some bullshit about you knowing our complexion best— don’t get us wrong, you do, but…”

“You’re like a lucky charm,” Hueningkai finishes for him, pulling away and bringing a hand up to grab at your chin, tilting you to look at him as he stares at you with lidded eyes, “The show won’t go well if our pretty makeup artist isn’t here with us.”

You whimper— and shit, it’s humiliating, your cheeks growing hot immediately after as you wish nothing more than to dig a hole for yourself then and there— but oh, their words are so hypnotizing to you, speaking about you like you’re something they can’t live without, touching you like they’re starved and desperate to get a taste.

And judging by the way they look at you, they definitely are. 

“Sometimes… we wonder if it’s enough, just getting a look at you before we go on stage,” Hueningkai says, and it’s Taehyun’s turn to nod along and leave teasing touches, his hand playing with the hem of your shirt as he noses at your throat, taking in your scent with a satisfied sigh.

“I think it’d be nice if you wished us luck tonight,” Hueningkai says, tilting his head as he gives you a puppy-eyed look, “Don’t you wanna?”

Fuck. You can’t think straight, not when they’re taking up your space, unable to keep their hands and lips off you as they wait not-so-innocently for your response. Shutting your eyes, you try to move past the warm and welcoming feeling of their hands to think.

“This is dangerous,” you finally spit out, biting your lip at the way they immediately back off, “You could get in trouble— I could lose my job.”

“Oh please,” Taehyun scoffs, sitting back against the vanity as he crosses his arms, “The company doesn’t care about what we do in our private life— you’ve seen the way the others can get with their little groupies, right?”

You mull over his words for a second; it’s no secret that this band is very active and reckless, though you suppose the company has taken advantage of that and began to use it as their image halfway through their career— at least, that must be the case if they’re able to advance on you so boldly, the rest of your coworkers unfazed by the whole situation. 

“But— my job—?”

“You think none of these other people that work here haven’t fooled around with their groups?” Taehyun asks, the incredulous smile on his face quickly turning to a pout as he coos at the innocent, wide-eyed look you give him, “They know how to keep a secret, pretty— so do we.”

This is ridiculous— even more so because you find yourself considering it, quickly shaking your head upon the sobering realization— though, the two are keen to notice the way you have yet to try and scurry away from them like always. 

“Don’t you feel tired of being so uptight all the time?” Huening asks, your head snapping up to watch as he places his hands on your shoulders, hovering behind you as he massages them gently, “We could help you relax. Have some fun, even.”

The two try to keep it cool the moment you lean into Hueningkai’s touch— though, you can still pick up on the way Taehyun’s eyes widen and Hueningkai’s hands freeze for just a second, your eyes threatening to shut from the way you remain too shy to gauge their reactions. 

“Won’t someone come in?”

In response, they laugh— poor thing, they think, glancing back at the door that got locked long ago, if they were finally going to get their hands on you, the last thing they would do is allow someone else to see. 

“No one will come in right now— we’re supposed to be changing, aren’t we?” Hueningkai says, smiling against your skin as he continues, “It’d be an invasion of privacy to try and come in now.”

They grin at the way you remain silent, clearly lost in thought by their words.

“Want us to treat you good?” Taehyun asks, placing a hand on your waist before he’s leaning in, his lips brushing against yours as he lets out a shaky breath, “Thank you for your hard work?”

Finally you break. 

“Please.”

Taehyun is a messy kisser— though, you don’t find yourself to be too surprised, always more eager out of the two to get his hands on you as he begins to kiss you with abandon— his hand cupping your jaw to keep you close, tongue prodding your mouth open and sharp teeth sinking into your plush lips teasingly; behind you, Hueningkai has moved his hands to your hips, pulling you back and forcing your back to arch as you feel him begin to rut his cock into you slowly, dark eyes taking in the way you only whine and moan under their touch. 

“Fuck, let me use those pretty hands, baby,” Taehyun sighs against your lips, guiding you down to his hard bulge and smiling against your lips the moment you begin to palm him; you’re slow and unsure with your movements, but that only makes Taehyun needier as he begins to rut his length against your palm, eager to get stimulation as he places his hand on top of yours to guide you to hold him through his sweats.

“Is playing hard to get fun for you?” Hueningkai asks, his voice low and rough as he plays with the hem of your shorts, pulling at the waistband before letting it go and allowing it to snap against your skin, “I can feel you soaking through your shorts— so fucking needy, why have you been avoiding us so long?”

You don’t have half the brain to answer that question; not when Taehyun has slipped your hand under his sweats and Hueningkai currently pulls down your skirt, leaving you exposed as you hold Taehyun’s cock and allow him to fuck into your first with shaky breaths against your lips. 

Trying to avoid them was such a stupid decision— because if it meant you could have these two boys like this sooner, drunk off your touch and desperate to take even more from you, you would’ve given in to their cheeky comments and shameless flirting long ago. 

Hueningkai’s fingers are slender and long as they glide up and down your slit; pressing against your panties, taking in the way you’ve soaked through them with a deep satisfaction as he lets out a breathy laugh. His middle and ring finger press at your entrance, listening to the way you whine and almost letting out a groan at the way you wiggle your hips and press them back in hopes of feeling him inside you. 

“Waited so long for this,” Hueningkai breathes out, hooking his fingers under the waistband of your panties and pulling them down sloowwly, watching as you whine impatiently before you’re stepping out of your garments— You pull away from Taehyun, staring down at the way he bucks into your fist and missing the way he bites his lip to suppress a laugh at the sight of Hueningkai pocketing your soaked panties. 

“Wanted to fuck you the moment you got assigned to us— our pretty makeup artist,” Hueningkai sighs, placing a kiss in between your shoulder blades before he’s fucking his fingers into you, jaw clenching at the way you suck in his fingers and tighten around him pathetically, the wet sounds that come from his shallow thrusts enough to have your head hanging with pleasure. 

“Do you…” you sigh, letting out a soft whine as Taehyun takes a handful of your hair and forces your head back up, clearing your throat in a weak attempt to continue as the said man now begins to kiss and suck softly at your neck, careful to not leave any marks, “Do this to… fuck, every crew member you think is attractive? Mess with them shamelessly and try to corner them so you can finally fuck them? …Hmm?”

Hueningkai’s index finger is tracing your entrance teasingly— he laughs softly at your comment, choosing not to say anything as he stretches you out with a third finger instead; he’s curling his fingers and grinding his hand into your cunt, taking in your expression with hungry eyes and noting the places that make your legs shake. 

“You think we do this to just anyone?” Taehyun asks, brows furrowed as he pulls away, taking in the way you wince at his appearance— more specifically, his lip tint that has smudged all over his lips and chin and onto your skin, “Baby, I hope you realize that you’re the first person we’ve ever pulled this shit on.”

“And the last,” Hueningkai chimes in, looming over your shoulder as he bites at your earlobe teasingly, his other hand circling your waist to rub at your clit, “We plan to keep you.”

God. You hope he didn’t notice the way you clenched pathetically from his words, but judging by the way he laughs breathily and fucks his fingers harder into you, he definitely did. 

“Shit, what aren’t these hands good for?” Taehyun asks, watching the way you pump along his length and reach up to swipe the precum that leaks from his tip, spreading it along the rest of his length as you watch the way your hand glistens and becomes messy from your actions, “You have no idea how much I thought about this— always felt so guilty watching as you did my makeup so innocently, unaware that I’d give up my job if it meant I could— I could bend you over this vanity and fuck you good.”

“Did you ever fantasize about us?” Hueningkai teases, only to be surprised by the way you nod your head frantically, eyes shutting from embarrassment as you grind your hips back into him, just to get a feel of his cock against your ass, “Yeah? What’d you think about? Maybe we could make it happen.”

You shake your head no— you’re reluctant to spew out your fantasies as easily as the two are, but that only proves to be a mistake from the way Hueningkai’s fingers slip out of you, instead landing down harshly on your ass as you jump at the sudden feeling. 

“What, too shy to tell us?” Taehyun asks, placing a hand on top of your own and making you slow to a stop as he examines your face, “Then again, you’ve always been a shy little thing— it’s your charm, you know.”

You can only let out a pathetic whimper at that; Taehyun is shaking your hand off him, your eyes fluttering open as you watch him tuck himself back in, giving you a sly smile before he’s sitting back down in his chair— Hueningkai is taking a step back, but it’s only to bend you over as he lets out a soft chuckle at your reaction— nodding to Hueningkai, Taehyun grins, his dimple poking at his cheek as he speaks.

“You first, Kai? I’ll give you the honors for being so patient.”

Your mouth is falling open the moment you feel his tip glide along your entrance— going up and down, clearly teasing you as he allows your wetness to collect on his dick, forcing you to listen to the sounds as you let out a shaky sigh, staring down at the vanity and your tense hands that are curled into fists— slowly, he begins to push into you, enjoying the way you bite your lip in an attempt to muffle your sounds, failing to do so as Hueningkai resorts to the next best thing— his hand is firm against your mouth as he holds your head up, your eyes meeting his through the mirror as you watch him begin to fuck you slowly.

The stretch has you blinking away tears of pleasure— if it weren’t for Hueningkai keeping you quiet, you’re sure you would��ve gotten the attention of the rest of the crew, your sounds muffled against the palm of his hand as your body begins to jolt forward from his pace, the vanity shaking slightly from the impact. 

“Fuck,” Hueningkai grunts, brows furrowed together as he watches himself disappear inside you, “So perfect. Pussy was made for me, look how good you take it.”

The two only laugh as you let out a weak whine at the praise— they’ve got you figured out good, and you’re meeting Taehyun’s gaze through the mirror as you catch him staring at you, stroking his cock at a slow pace as he simply gives you a teasing grin.

“Why don’t you watch the way Huening fucks you, pretty?” He asks, and your eyes flicker back to the sight he’s talking about, meeting Huenigkai’s eyes as he simply sends you a coy smile, “You look so perfect like this— bent over the desk like a pretty doll, perfect for us to use… isn’t that right?”

Before you can moan out a muffled response, a sharp knock on the door takes your attention; you’re jolting to try and get Huening off you in a hurry, but the boy merely retaliates by pulling you back against him, colliding against his chest and letting out a weak whimper at the feeling of him rutting his hips up into you— watch, he growls into your ear, grinning with satisfaction as you immediately follow his orders.

“Yeah?” Taehyun calls out, his tone much too casual for someone who’s watching his fellow band member fuck the cute staff member the two have been pining for. 

“Have you seen ___ anywhere? The makeup artist?” It’s Soobin, you all realize, your reaction of horror greatly contrasting the way the two merely smile casually at the realization, “They’ve been looking for her, and I thought you two would know where she might be.”

“Uhhhhm…” Taehyun draws out, crossing his arms and tilting his head as he watches the way Hueningkai continues to fuck you, fingers digging into your cheeks as his eyes widen at the way you’ve begun to squirm from his grip, your orgasm approaching as you try to grind your hips in search for more stimulation. 

“If we knew where she was at, we’d probably be there bothering her,” Taehyun jokes, a crooked smile on his face as he listens to the way Soobin scoffs on the other side, “But seriously, we’re changing right now. She finished our makeup a while ago, we haven’t seen her.”

A moment passes; you think you might explode from how hard you’re trying to hold back your orgasm, but Hueningkai seems to be hellbent on making you cum from the way his free hand goes to circle your clit, your mouth falling open as you practically shake from the feeling. 

“Well…” another pause— Soobin sighs, and Taehyun can already picture the man running a hand through his hair on the other side of the door, “Let me know if you find her.”

After a moment, his footsteps fade entirely— it’s only then that Hueningkai bends you over once more, grabbing your hips and using this as leverage to fuck you back into him as you whimper that you’re close— seconds after, you’re squeezing Hueningkai so hard he thinks his cock might slip out, fucking you through your orgasm as your legs simply tremble from the intensity of it all. 

“Did that get you off, baby?” Hueningkai murmurs, his hips beginning to stutter as he watches you lay against the desk, your cheek pressed against the wood as you only let out weak whines in response, “Knowing we were about to get caught? Is that what made you cum, cutie?”

In a pathetic attempt to dodge his question, you bury your head in your arms— the man behind you simply laughs, pressing on the small of your back and grinding into you slowly, biting his lip at the sight. 

“Want me to cum inside? Fill you up and have it leak down your legs, making people wonder just where you disappeared to for so long?” frantically, you nod; you’re pressing your ass back against him, trying to fuck back into him as Hueningkai only groans at the sight— moments later, you’re practically biting through your lip from the feeling of him filling you up so well, trying his best to fuck his cum back into you the moment it begins to drip back out. 

A moment passes where the two of you simply remain still, attempting to regain your breaths— then, you hear sounds of shuffling and footsteps, and you’re meekly raising your head from your arms to watch as Taehyun approaches the two of you with a teasing smile.

“You should go get cleaned up and change,” Taehyun says, tapping your ass with a smile, “It’s my turn now, isn’t that right baby?”

Hueningkai rolls his eyes at the other’s antics— then, he’s slowly pulling out, hissing softly at the feeling before he’s grabbing your face and bringing you up for a kiss— it’s slow and sensual, his plump lips addicting as he sneaks his tongue in for a taste of you— he’s reluctant to pull away, and only does so when you grip his shirt in your hands weakly and whine petulantly in his mouth— pulling away, he’s sending you a soft smile, taking in the sight of your shining and swollen lips before he’s telling you I’ll be right back— Taehyun rolls his eyes at his words. 

“Tell me,” Taehyun begins, bending you over once more and keeping his head next to yours, encouraging you to hold eye contact with him as he smiles softly— his index and middle finger are slowly massaging up and down your slit, and you let out a weak whimper at the feeling of him gathering the cum that’s leaking out of you before he’s pushing it back in slowly, “What would you fantasize about? I’d love to try it out on you.”

He won’t do anything until he hears your confession— a sign that you really did want them all along, forcing himself to tease you instead as he takes in the way you begin to break slowly, your hips attempting to chase pleasure, only to be stopped by Taehyun’s firm grip on your hip. 

“I could do so many things to you,” he mutters softly, placing a chaste kiss on your shoulder before he continues, “All you have to do is tell me.”

Fuck, where do you even begin? All the things you’ve ever thought about these two boys were reserved for the dark hours of the night when you couldn’t control your wandering mind, never to be revealed as you always told yourself you’d take this attraction to your grave— but now, as you feel Taehyun’s fingertips continuously dip into your entrance teasingly, able to feel the way some of Hueningkai’s cum has already run down your thighs, you really can’t be blamed for the way Taehyun’s sparkling doe eyes are able to extract the words from you without a second thought.

“Thought of riding you while I did your makeup,” you whimpered out pathetically, the confession enough to make your face feel like it was on fire— Taehyun, however, thinks the image might just make him cum on the spot, so he doesn’t have it in him to be apologetic as he quickly guides you back to his makeup chair and makes you hover over him.

“Well? What’re you waiting for?” He asks breathlessly, straddling his lap and staring down at him with wide eyes as he keeps his hands on your waist, having yet to find release as he feels his cock straining painfully against his sweats, “Now’s your chance, cutie.”

You stare at Taehyun— at his smudged makeup, his flushed cheeks, and his eyes that are blown open with need— and nod meekly, your hand reaching to take him out before you’re lining him up with your entrance, brows furrowing slightly as you properly take in his size.

That does little to hinder you; the way you sink on Taehyun is fucking painfully slow, and the said man is cursing in your ear as he feels the way you clench around him, your and Hueningkai’s release already coating his dick and making a mess of the chair as you stare at him with bleary eyes. 

“Don’t you need to fix my makeup?” Taehyun asks, his voice a bit strained from the effort to not pound into you recklessly— cluelessly, you nod, your expression making Taehyun let out a breathy laugh, “Do what you need to— I’ll do all the hard work, pretty thing.”

You’re unsure of what he may mean until he’s nodding back at the makeup case behind you— letting out a soft oh, you reach for your supplies, shaky hands taking what you need before you’re turning back to Taehyun. 

His hands are on the swell of your ass, smiling fondly at you before he begins to buck his hips up into you— softly at first, giving you the illusion that he’ll actually let you work, then becoming rougher as he watches the way your expression breaks, coherence leaving your eyes as you simply look at him with bleary, clueless eyes— your actions are oh so slow as you try to touch up on his makeup, trying your best to not make things worse than they already are— but the task seems to be impossible with the way Taehyun fucks you, biting his lip and guiding your hips up and down to get you to ride him as well, already noticing a second orgasm building up from the way you help him out eagerly. 

“Tyun,” you whimper out, makeup supplies in your fists as you place them firmly on his chest, “This isn’t working— I can’t… ah…!”

You’re interrupted mid-sentence as you’re finally coming undone on top of him— the makeup supplies in your hands dig into your skin from how hard you grip onto them, a weak, choked moan escaping you as Taehyun only continues to fuck you through it, not slowing down even after you’ve ridden out your high, going back to whining that you can’t do it, it’s too hard— too much.

“Yes you can,” he grins, taking in the way you only shake your head with satisfaction, “Okay then, can you hold out until I cum then? Can you be good for me, pretty girl?”

You don’t hesitate to nod at that; it has Taehyun laughing before it’s choked off into a moan, finally able to use you to his liking as he begins to fuck you rougher— shit… you hear him groan, and one look at him is enough to tell you that he’s staring at the sight in the mirror behind you— taking in how pretty you look as you bounce on his cock, hands desperately holding onto him as you tuck your head into his shoulder— The feeling of your lips sucking absentmindedly at his skin is enough to set him off, bottoming out inside you and groaning at the way his cum spurts inside you, barely able to stay in from how full you already are. 

Gradually, his pace slows down to nothing but a slow grind— you’re attempting to regain your breath once you finally sit up, still perched prettily on his cock as you begin to touch up his makeup with shaky hands. 

“Hmm? That’s unfair,” Hueningkai’s sudden voice has your head snapping up, looking to where he stands as he taps a finger at his collarbone, “Why didn’t I get one of those?”

Your eyes widen as you’re turning back to Taehyun at break-neck speed— sure enough, you’ve left a mark, and you can already feel your stomach sinking at the thought of having to cover that up. 

“Relax, our outfits are pretty covered,” Taehyun scoffs, reading your expression with a playful roll of his eyes, “But I wouldn’t really mind having others see it.”

“No fair, can I get one?” Hueningkai pouts, even more so when you deny him shyly, focusing on your task and pretending as though you’re currently not sitting firmly on Taehyun’s cock with both their cum leaking out of you.

“Baby,” Hueningkai calls out softly, making you turn your head as he captures you in another kiss— it’s even messier than last time, which you really didn’t think was possible as you’re left panting for breath once he pulls away, your eyes widening at the lopsided grin he sends you. 

“Fix my makeup next?”

Fuck, they’ll miss their damn show at this point. 

[oswildin]

i’d wanna be next to you (loki x g!n reader)

Summary: Loki made a vow that he would savour every single moment with you. (Inspired by ‘Die With A Smile’ by Lady Gaga & Bruno Mars) - Fluffy, romantic, cute??

A/N: AU where Loki didn’t die in Infinity War but came close. Drabbleish? Idk, but it’s not that long lmao. No descriptors for reader.

Rating: All ages/SFW

LOKI MASTERLIST

I just woke up from a dream

Where you and I had to say goodbye

And I don't know what it all means

But since I survived, I realized

Loki awoke with a start, heart beating frantically in his chest as he sat up in his bed, the silence in his room almost piercing. He let out a heavy breath, a sigh almost, a hand running through his raven curls as he grounded himself to the moment, to his surroundings. He was in his room in New Asgard… His blue eyes flickered to the mattress beside him, seeing your form sleeping peacefully… Alive. Breathing. Unharmed.

Relief filled him, his panic slowly ebbing as he closed his eyes for a second to compose. It had been three years since… everything. Three years since half the universe was snapped away at the hands of Thanos… Three years since Loki almost… The God swallowed, brows pinching together faintly as the memories flashed through his mind. His dreams were almost just as vivid… He often had nightmares of the event, over and over, yet with each one there was a small difference. If it wasn’t him dying, it was Thor… If it wasn’t Thor… It was you. The fear of losing you… It could sometimes be too much to bear.

Wherever you go, that's where I'll follow

Nobody's promised tomorrow

So I'ma love you every night like it's the last night

Like it's the last night

After a few moments, Loki slowly shifted, careful not to disturb you as he nestled closer, your back against his chest, his arm draped gently over your waist as he held you. His face buried itself into your neck, taking in your comforting warmth, your scent, your everything… Reminding himself that you were okay. That you were alive. He felt you shift faintly, a soft sigh leaving you as he felt your hand rest over his around your front.

“You okay?” He heard you mumble sleepily, clearly sensing something was amiss. You always knew. He could never lie to you - a rare feat indeed. He didn’t reply straight away, savouring the quiet, the peace… He let out a quiet ‘hmm’ against your skin, his hold tightening on you ever so slightly. “Sure?” You whispered, thumb brushing against his cooler, pale hand. You knew of his dreams, he wouldn’t tell you all the details, but you knew enough to know that it still affected him - well, of course it would.

“As long as you’re here, I’m always okay.” He murmured quietly, his lips brushing your neck.

If the world was ending

I'd wanna be next to you

If the party was over

And our time on Earth was through

I'd wanna hold you just for a while

And die with a smile

You allowed him the comfort of holding you, feeling his chest rising and falling gently against your back, his breaths against your skin. Minutes passed before you finally shuffled under the sheets, turning in his embrace to be able to face him. In the dim light, Loki’s gaze was soft, his features also soft, everything about him was soft… Especially, when it came to you.

After his near death, the snap… He was reminded how… mortal he really was, how easily his light could be snuffed out. Regret. That was what he had felt, knowing he could’ve done things differently, not been so cold or angry… Envious. It was different to when he fell from the Bifrost, it was a different kind of fear… And he realised it was because when Thanos’ hand was around his neck… He realised he wanted to live. He wanted to finally have the sun shine on him. He still struggled, but after those days, he vowed he would savour every moment he got. Gods lived so long but truly valued very little. Not anymore. He never failed to tell you how he felt about you, knowing now that life was far too precious, too short… Especially for you, a mortal.

And nobody was promised tomorrow.

Ooh, lost, lost in the words that we scream

I don't even wanna do this anymore

'Cause you already know what you mean to me

And our love's the only one worth fighting for

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” Loki breathed out, feeling your fingers brush a stray curl from his forehead, his arm still holding you close.

“It’s okay.” You assured him softly, thumb caressing his cheekbone lightly before your hand moved to cup his jaw. You knew it was another dream. “Who needs sleep anyway?” You asked playfully, trying to lighten his spirits. You could see his lips tug upwards ever so slightly in the dim light, a soft huff of amusement leaving his nose.

“Mortals.” He replied wryly, making you hum in agreement. “And certain Gods who enjoy sleeping next to said mortals.” He added, a hint of his usual mirth returning.

“Well, I do hope that when it comes to one God, it’s only one specific mortal he enjoys sleeping next to…” You teased. “Otherwise that one specific mortal may be a little upset.” You couldn’t help but let your own lips curl upwards gently, Loki letting out a brief, very quiet laugh.

“You are correct… there is only one specific mortal that this God enjoys sleeping next to.” He confirmed playfully, voice full of warmth in the hushed intimacy between you. “Even when they snore- Ow!” You tugged at his earlobe lightly with the hand that had been cupping his jaw, laughing breathily. “I believe you just assaulted the King’s favourite advisor.” He quipped, feigning a chiding tone.

“Val would support it.” You argued, shrugging faintly - well, the best you could in the embrace you were both in. Loki let out an unconvinced hum. “And favourite advisor? You’re her only advisor.”

“For very good reason.” Loki leaned closer. “Because I’m her favourite.” He whispered, as if sharing a secret before he let his nose brush against yours faintly.

Wherever you go, that's where I'll follow

Nobody's promised tomorrow

So I'ma love you every night like it's the last night

Like it's the last night

“I love you, Loki Odinson.” You whispered, matching his softness. It never failed to make Loki’s heart skip and swell as those words left your lips. Every time. To be loved… Wholly and completely… Unconditionally… It was something he still didn’t believe he deserved. But it was something he would always cling to, especially in the darkness that had encompassed the world, the universe, in the last three years… The darkness that had threatened to drag him back many a times.

“And I love you.” Loki breathed, your faces mere inches from one another. “More than you can ever imagine.” His words were truthful, utterly honest and heartfelt… from a God who once wove lies and lived in deceit… With you, he found his truth.

After a few seconds, Loki placed a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth, before his hand moved to cradle the back of your head, arms tightening around you to pull you even closer. Your own arm wrapped around him, burying your face into his chest, breathing him in. He was your hope in the darkness, just as you were his. And whilst you both knew the end was inevitable, that heartbreak was inevitable being a mortal and a God… You couldn’t help but smile. Because if the world was ending…

I'd wanna be next to you

[rrxnjun]

where do broken hearts go? [lmk]

you know what they say about past lovers that can remain just as friends - either they're still in love with each other, or they never were in the first place.

pairing: mark lee x fem! reader

genre: exes to lovers. angst, fluff.

wc: 12k (11.926)

warnings: mention of sex, weed and alcohol, heartbreak, swearing, park jihoon of treasure is one sassy bitch and also accidentally somehow the main character of this fanfic plz dont @ me, inconsistent writing style bc i took 3 months and 3 depressive episodes to finish this fic

playlist: where do broken hearts go - one direction / too good to say goodbye - bruno mars / everytime - ariana grande / closer - waterparks / tornado warnings - sabrina carpenter / survive the night - the boyz

a/n: hey do some of you still remember me..... AHAHA tell a friend to tell a friend rrxnjun is BACK! this fic isn't the ideal vision i had in my mind but we are working on not being so hard on ourselves with our writing so! here we are. i still kind of like it :,)

When you walk up to your best friend’s apartment one day with a tub of ice cream under your arm and the biggest pout on your face, Park Jihoon makes a complete list of things you should do to get over your failed relationship with Mark Lee. And while you think your dear friend has some psychopathic tendencies sometimes, you’d say the list is actually pretty reasonable of him. 

There’s something about the five simple steps that makes you wonder if it’s really as easy as Jihoon makes it sound. And while you doubt it– because the pinging pain in your heart makes it seem like the heartbreak is truly going to kill you in a few minutes if you don’t do something about it– you give it a try, because come on… you’d do anything to not feel like this ever again.

Step one – cry it out.

“He was a cunt anyway,” Jihoon mutters as he steps into the living room with two spoons in his hands, throwing one of them to you– while almost managing to hit you in the middle of your forehead in the process, adding a concussion to the mix of problems you have going on right now– and you find yourself furrowing your brows at his hateful comment.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, as your best friend, I’m supposed to be on your side, no?” he says as he takes a seat on the sofa next to you, watching as you wrap one of the thick blankets you got for the male around your figure– you bought it mainly for yourself, because his apartment is cold as a freezer and you knew he wouldn’t buy one for you to use in the first place– and shrugs. “Besides, he broke your heart, and any male who does that is a cunt in my eyes.”

“I broke up with him,” you mourn, “so I broke my own heart,” you snicker, despair fully filling you up from the inside– fitting everywhere into your lungs and choking you up from how bad you truly feel. Now, this isn’t your first breakup– you’ve had your fair share of boyfriends in high school (in your baddie era, as Jihoon called it), but Choi Yeonjun from Maths class and Jung Woonyoung, the guy you dated for a total of 2 months over the summer break before he moved away, weren’t exactly boys you found yourself falling in love with. Sure, you liked them, you kissed them and went on dates with them– hell, you even hooked up with Yeonjun once before you realized the relationship truly wasn’t for you– but no one managed to cave into your heart just as much as Mark Lee, your first college boyfriend did.

“But you sure had a reason for it, come on!” Jihoon huffs, taking the tub of ice cream from your hands and opening it for you, since you’ve gotten quite weak from the lack of sleep and nutritions ever since the break up, hands clammy and not cooperating. “You don’t just break up with someone to break your own heart. He did that, that’s why you said goodbye to him,” he says before sitting the enormous tub of ice cream between your two bodies, nudging you to dig into the frozen delicacy.

“Yeah, but–”

“No buts, young lady. We are here to make you forget you ever even dated Mark Lee, so open up, eat the ice cream and focus your attention on Titanic so you can finally cry it out,” he says, and by the tone of his voice, you’d think he’s angry with you. Jihoon has this aura around him that makes you think he’s always at least a little annoyed at everything– but he told you to not mind it and that it’s just his sassy bitch attitude. 

He does have a point, though. You broke up with Mark because he broke your heart first– there was no other reason for it. If it was something minor, something small, you were sure you could work on it. You have, numerous of times before, brought up something and had a mature conversation about it– something you always so admired about Mark, being so cautious and understanding when navigating problems in the relationship– but when you bring up the same thing over and over, and it never gets fixed despite him telling you he’ll try harder next time, you think you’re allowed to feel a little heartbroken at his nonexistent efforts. And that’s exactly why you decided to quit the relationship– after a while, you felt like you were putting in more effort than he was, effectively making you feel like he’s not even that interested in dating you in the first place.

First, he just told you he was forgetful. He forgot he promised to pick you up from class one day– and you said that it’s okay, he is busy, after all– and it was the first time it happened, so you didn’t really mind that much, truly. Then, he forgot about the date you scheduled– but it was fine, because you didn’t have reservations anyway, you could change the day to any other day of the week, after all. He kept forgetting the stuff you told him in between the conversations you shared– and it was small things, you understand, but sometimes, you wondered if he was ever really listening to you at all. 

Forgetful soon turns not interested in your eyes, and when he doesn’t call you in the evening like he promised he would, when he doesn’t show up to the party you invited him to, because he forgot it was that day, you’re one step closer to calling it quits, because each and every one of these situations sends a sharp pain into your stomach. The last straw was just last week, though– and realistically, it was an important day, as much that you thought the day is somehow gonna fix everything, but the truth is somewhere completely else as Mark Lee forgets about your one year anniversary and never shows up at your doorstep for the dinner you prepared for the two of you like he promised he would. 

And it doesn’t click in him two days after either– you don’t even get a text. He got so forgetful over time that he forgot about you completely, and that’s when you took an uber to his place and broke up with him for good.

And even though the breakup was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt yourself go through, Jihoon is right– you’re not the one that broke your own heart. Mark Lee did that for you many times before, and this was just the breaking point.

“Fucking hell, you bought cookies and cream again?” Jihoon huffs when he takes another spoonful of the ice cream into his mouth, eyebrows furrowing at the sweet taste. Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you wipe your left cheek as you hum, immune to his nagging by now.

“You know I hate cookies and cream!”

“You know, Hoon, I bought this for myself. When you’re the one that’s heartbroken, we’ll share your favorite ice cream flavor instead,” you mumble, munching on the coldness on your tongue, sniffling a little when your eyes avert to the TV screen.

And after that, the teasing from your best friend’s side stops. Maybe it’s just because he hates to see you cry– and he rarely gets the chance, if you’re being honest, since you’re pretty good at handling your emotions– but you secretly know that it’s because when he looks back at the TV screen in front of the two of you, the sad part of the movie hasn’t even started yet and the tears are not the result of the movie, but of your own thoughts instead.

Step two – give him back all of his stuff and the stuff he’s given you that reminds you of him. Demand that he does the same.

Now, step two was a thing most couples do when they break up. Realistically, it makes sense– you wouldn’t want stuff that’s not yours just laying around, and also, it’s just bound to remind you of the person you lost. Naturally, you’d want to return it.

“Why does he have to return my things as well?” you mutter under your breath as Jihoon helps you fold all Mark’s hoodies into a cardboard box, alongside with wrapping the little things your ex boyfriend made out of ceramic for you in tissue paper like you asked him to– even though he complained and said that it shouldn’t matter to you if they break, because you are the heartbroken one– but you held those little things too close to your heart to let them get damaged in the first place.

“Because that’s how it works,” Jihoon hums, watching as you throw another one of Mark’s shirts onto the top of his head, shielding his vision. “What, you don’t want your stuff back?”

“I mean…” you mumble, deeply considering of the fact that the thought of getting your stuff back didn’t even cross your mind until now, before you realize your favorite pair of socks is thrown somewhere in Mark’s drawers– the blue ones with peaches on them– and you suddenly have the revelation that while you don’t necessarily need the stuff back, you’d love to wear those socks again. “I guess…” you note as you walk over to Jihoon and take a glance into the full cardboard box, looking over the stuff and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“It’s like witchcraft, y’know,” Jihoon points out, looking at you with fierce eyes mirroring the stupid idea that just flashed through his brain, “if you don’t exchange the things, a piece of you is still kept at his apartment and you won’t be able to move on.”

And again, Park Jihoon does have psychopathic tendencies, but he may be onto something here. So you listen to him as you nod along and close the cardboard box, ready to drive over to Mark Lee’s apartment and drop off the things you’ve collected from him for the past year. The box includes all of the clothes messily scattered across your drawers and your closet, the picture frame of you two together that you always had on your night stand, the ceramic bowls and a little tiger sculpture he made for you when he took a pottery class with his friend Renjun, and the lost guitar pics you found under your bed and at the very top of your bookshelf from when he used to bring his guitar along and play you songs on rainy afternoons. The only things of Mark’s that you kept were the love letter he gave you for your birthday and the USB with his cover of Justin Bieber’s Off my face on it that he shyly gifted to you on one of your dates; but you would never tell Jihoon that in fear of him getting rid of those most precious memories for you.

It’s good to let go, but you don’t think you’re wrong for wanting to keep something to remind you of the good times. The times you still felt loved by Mark.

“Off we go,” you say, standing up and bringing the box towards your front door, your best friend at your feet. He promised to drive you to Mark’s place– you think he’s worried about you meeting your ex-boyfriend face to face for the first time since the break up, but he said it’s because you’re too broke to Uber all the time, efficiently throwing all the considerate thoughts you were accrediting him out the window– and after a few minutes of the drive, you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Mark Lee's apartment.

Taking a deep breath in and out, almost chickening out with the flood of thoughts and excuses you could say to Jihoon when you come back to his car with the box still in your hands– sayings like “he wasn’t home” or “he didn’t want those back”, the latter stupider than the first– you decide to face your problems head-on and finally knock on the mahogany door, waiting for Mark to answer. And he does– of course he does, because he’s always home, and as his ex-girlfriend of one year, you're painfully aware of the fact– but when that happens, you feel your heart falling all the way down to your stomach, crushing you and suddenly making it hard for you to breathe. 

“Um… hi,” he greets you, voice a little groggy, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while– and when you meet his eyes, the deep chocolate orbs you always found yourself admiring and writing silent odes to in your head, you quickly glance away in fear of staring into them for too long and making decisions you wouldn’t like to make.

“Hi,” you awkwardly greet back, clearing your throat and moving a little in your place, shifting the weight from one foot to the other. You're surprised you're able to keep up with the conversation, thoughts running in your brain faster than you can comprehend them, heartbeat ringing in your ears from the unexpected anxiety. Maybe Jihoon was right and you should've taken a shot before coming here– at least you'd have more courage and social skills clearly needed for this kind of interaction. “I… brought you back your things,” you say, finally looking up at the male and chewing on your lips, letting out an awkward, tense laugh when he stares at you with an empty look, “figured you’d want them back,” you add, watching as the male opens his mouth and closes it in what seems to be shock before he presses his lips tightly together and nods at you.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he watches you clumsily hold up the cardboard box to him, ready to leave his stuff there with him and escape as fast as you can, not really minding how you'll get back to Jihoon's car– if jumping down the window of the entrance hall is the fastest option, you're ready to get to it. The truth is, everything is starting to get a little too hard to bear– his familiar scent filling your nose, the hoodie he wore to your first date enveloping his figure, his messy hair reminding you of the many times you brushed your fingers through it in attempts to smooth it down. It’s only been two weeks since you last saw him, but it was starting to feel as if you forgot about him already and were now relearning all the things you once fell in love with again, looking at him in the same light, yet noticing him and all the small details a little bit differently. “Thanks, I… I actually, uh… I have your stuff here too, so if you want it back I’ll– I can just–”

“Y-yeah,” you nod, almost a little too eagerly, “that would be… cool,” you say, trying hard to ignore the fact that he had your stuff packed too, intending to give it to you, and the crashing reality that comes with it, telling you he was prepared to do this before you were and how it’s making you feel kind of shitty.

Mark moves further into the apartment, the sound of him dropping the box to the floor filling your ears before he’s back at the door in no time, a similar cardboard box in his hands that he offers to you with a tense smile on his face. “Wanted to bring it around so I had an excuse to see you, but you, uh… beat me to it, I guess…” 

Looking at him as you take the box out of his hands, gaze as if to tell him not to say such words to you when you’re still so fragile to his effect, you only nod and mutter out a simple “Thanks,” before you turn on your heel and intend to take the stairs back down.

“I’ll… see you around, then?” Mark calls after you as you take the first step out– something about it making you feel like it’s the first step out of his life, in a way– and you only nod, because one, you truly don’t know how else to reply to this question, and two, you really, really don’t know if you’ll ever see him again, but you can't bring yourself to say it to his face. Somehow, it would feel like torture to admit it– and you're not prepared for that reality just yet.

Rushing outside and getting into Jihoon's car, you almost feel like you’re on the verge of breaking, and when the male asks you how it went as he’s reversing out of the parking lot, you only bid him a one-word reply before you look through the box on your way home, too impatient to stay back from the memories.

And Jihoon didn’t really think this one through, because the fact that you gave Mark back the things that reminded you of him meant that he did the same, and now all the things you brought along to Mark’s apartment were in the cardboard box, all stained with countless memories and feelings attached to each and every single thing. The artwork you made for him, the little heart-shaped keychain you gave him for his birthday, the plant you gave him that was now long dead and dried out– those were once your stuff, but all in this world with the intention of love being sent out through them to your now ex-lover, and the fact that they’re in your possession again instead of his is not making letting go of Mark any easier. 

And maybe Mark was right and he truly was forgetful, because as you rummage through the contains of the box, while you find out your favorite blue socks are nowhere to be seen, surely still buried somewhere in the drawers of his closet, obliterated out of his memory, there’s a gray hoodie sitting at the bottom and it’s surely not yours– it’s his and it was always your favorite, and you always used to wear it at his place when you got cold or when you just really wanted to smell his cologne, and you suddenly don't know if it's presence in the box slipped his mind or if he truly left it there on purpose. 

Couldn’t he forget about that too?

Step three – block his number.

The third step comes into place after you accidentally slip out to Jihoon about the phone call you get on a Friday night– more like two hours into Saturday already– and now, most of all, you must admit that your best friend might be right about his advice.

Your phone starts ringing at 2:11 AM, and while you weren’t sleeping– you’ve been having some trouble with dozing off without being overbeared with thoughts lately– the name flashing on your screen shocks you for more reasons than one. 

Mark Lee calls you, three weeks after your breakup, in the middle of the night. You haven’t spoken since the time he gave you back your stuff, and even though you’ve done quite a bit of stalking on his social media, you have no news of him or his whereabouts. Naturally, a call from him in the middle of the night startles you and shakes you to the core. He has no reason to call you, so your brain does the math and concludes there must be an emergency– and god knows that even after being hurt by him, you could never ignore him and leave him hanging in a state of need.

So you pick up– with shaky hands and a raging heartbeat, expecting the worst. Listening to the other side of the line, you take a deep breath in and out, bracing yourself for the impact of the words you’re going to hear. The voice on the other side is laced with haziness and his tone is almost a little tired– worn out, even– when he finally greets you from wherever he is.

“Hi,” Mark says, and for a second, your heartbeat steadies itself and the world stops spinning– he sounds okay, and for a moment, you’re grateful to hear his voice.

Humming, as if to collect your thoughts, you clear your throat before you offer him an answer. “Hello,” you greet, “what’s- what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hear your voice,” he says, almost a little abruptly to your question. He doesn't overthink his answer and he doesn't give himself time to think if it's a good idea or not– he just blurts it out and now it's your problem to deal with, when it's there, out in the open. Your palms get sweaty and you start to lose feeling in your fingertips, making you take a few seconds to yourself to process the situation before you decide to finally answer to the strange sentence. 

“It’s late, Mark,” you mumble, and you involuntarily wonder if the sentence doesn’t have double meaning– it's too late for anyone to call at this hour, and at the same time, it’s been weeks since your ex boyfriend lost the privilege of listening to your voice when he can’t sleep in the middle of the night whenever he feels like it– and it’s now too late to do anything about it or make it any easier to deal with.

“Shit, sorry,” he chuckles to himself, and you suddenly recognise the laziness in his voice to be the effect of his and his best friend Hyuck’s Friday endeavors; the sweet coating of his voice being the effect of none other than the momentary bliss that comes with the relaxation of his body and mind when he's high. “Didn’t realize,” he concludes, making you shake your head at him in disbelief– not really mattering that he can’t see you in the act.

“‘s okay,” you mumble– and in your perfect reality, you hang up the phone now. In your perfect reality, you connect it to your charger and close your eyes, calling it a night. You fall asleep with no thoughts rummaging through your brain and wake up in the morning to a new sunny day, ready to take on the responsibilities of what’s to come, having productive days ended with smiles and a hot dinner you make for yourself just because you feel like it. In your perfect reality, you protect your own heart. This is not your perfect reality, though– and that’s why you stay on the line, listening to Mark ramble on the other side of the phone, intoxicated and slightly out of it. You wonder if he’ll remember calling you when he wakes up tomorrow. You wonder if he’ll regret it, or if he’ll just shrug his shoulders at the fact and go on with his day, not really paying you much thought when he’s sober.

“I was with Hyuck just now,” he says, and you hear the rustling of his sheets on the other side of the line, making you wonder if he’s washed up and ready for bed, “and– and I remembered how we all used to hang out together, y’know… you with us all– you always clicked with my friends and it was so cool and stuff… and I realized, right, they’re not as funny when you’re not around… but anyways… Jeno’s girlfriend asked about you, ‘cause she didn’t know…and telling her felt so silly, ‘cause they all kept looking at me and I knew they were pitying me, but it was my fault in the first place–”

“Mark–” 

“No, it’s true. And it’s cool, I don’t– I don’t blame you, or anything. I just… I dunno, I guess it got me wondering…”

The line goes silent on the other side, and you settle into your own bed, giving him time to continue. When he doesn’t say anything for a long time, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“You still there?”

“Yeah. How was your day?” he asks, tone of voice casual as ever, as if he’s forgotten about all the words he’s told you up until now–  as if it’s not 2 AM and both of your hearts aren’t breaking at the sound of each other’s voice on the other side of the line.

“It… it was okay, I guess,” you say nonetheless, too hopeless to find a way to end the conversation before he does. 

“That’s good to hear,” he says, sighing, “that’s… awesome. You still taking those yoga classes on Mondays?” he asks, and you snicker to yourself– because what kind of question even is that? Who asks that on a late night call, when there are more important things you two need to talk about?

“Yeah,” you lie, still. You haven’t been since the breakup.

“That’s great. Wouldn’t want you to… y’know,” he laughs to himself, “be too sad over this… ‘t was for the better, after all.”

You hear yourself hum– the noise way more stable than your actual words ever could be– and you find yourself feeling silly in the conversation, lying to your ex boyfriend through your teeth; because at the end of the day, you don’t want him to worry about you– because it seems to be the case that he is. And it’s stupid, because he hurt you and you shouldn’t care, maybe you should’ve even show him that you’re heartbroken and that he is the reason behind your pain and the way your life is falling apart, bit by bit, but you don’t find it in you to be so cold and heartless. At the end of the day, you still care about Mark and there’s nothing you could do about it. Turns out that breaking up with him doesn’t magically make the feelings go away– and you knew that, but now you have proof.

“What were you saying before, by the way? You… trailed off at the end,” you say, reminding him of his previous words.

“Oh, that,” he snickers into the microphone again, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he twists and turns in the sheets, “don’t worry about it. It was selfish of me.”

It was selfish of him to call in the first place. But you won’t tell him that.

“What was it?”

“It’s just… I was wondering if I lost you forever, y’know… if there was a chance we could ever…” he trails off again, but this time, you don’t bug him to complete it. You’re not stupid– you know the implication of his words. You’ve known him for a long time, after all– maybe you should’ve predicted this when you picked up the call.

“I mean…” you hum, “you didn’t lose me completely, if that’s– if that’s what’s keeping you up at night. We’re still friends, aren’t we?” you say, and in the corner of your brain, you can’t even believe the words yourself– but if it was selfish of him to call, you think it’s okay for you to selfishly fill both of you with empty promises, just for the sake of not breaking your heart even further.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “that’s– …I’m glad.”

The line’s silent after that, and you wonder if you two have used up the list of words to say to each other this time, if there’s truly no other answer at the end of this conversation. When the situation gets too much for you to bear, the heaviness finally settling on your shoulders and your chest, you finally find the courage to sniffle out a quiet goodbye.

“Good night, Mark.”

“G’night,” he drags out, mind still cloudy. “Love you,” spills out from his tongue, like a bad habit.

He ends the call before you get to say it back. Maybe that’s for the better.

And the truth is, you should’ve really listened to Park Jihoon and blocked Mark’s number after this encounter. But you didn’t– you’re too weak for Mark’s sweet words, finding yourself still hanging on to his saccharine voice and the muffled ramble he has reserved for you only every time he gets high and loses all self-control before calling you on Friday nights selfishly demanding your attention, somehow falling for him like a teenager over and over again despite promising yourself you're gonna move on for real now.

Step four – date someone new.

“So…” Jihoon starts one day, eyes glued to your skull like laser beams, the tone of his voice so incomprehensible you think he’s going to scold you for the actions of your previous days– even though you haven't told him about the midnight calls with Mark and so if he's not going through your phone, he has no way of knowing. Tense and nervous, still, knowing that the impact of his words could either heal you or cut you open like a knife– damn him for always being so brutally honest, no matter how soft his heart is for you– you smile at him with tight lips, crossing your arms on your chest in defense.

“So…?” 

A nervous laugh almost escapes your throat. If Jihoon wasn’t suspicious of you before, he surely is now– or he just finds you strange by the way he furrows his brows at you and scans you up and down, taking a second for himself before he sighs and seemingly decides to drop the weird way you’re acting right now, shaking his head and focusing on the task at hand.

“I was thinking… my friend asked about you,” he says, nonchalantly looking down onto his hands and taking the dirt out from behind his nails, as if it’s not a big deal and he doesn’t even care that much. “Choi Hyunsuk from Biology, you know him– shabby haircut, kinda short, failed the class so he has to retake it this year…?”

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that the two of us have completely different majors, Hoonie,” you sweetly smile at him with irony, making him roll his eyes with a sigh before he tries again.

“The guy who ripped his pants at Xiao Dejun’s party last year?”

“Oh, that one! You should’ve said that earlier, of course I remember Choi Hyunsuk from your Biology class,” you nod hurriedly, the gears finally clicking in your brain.

“As if I wasn’t talking about him for the last few minutes–”

“Okay, and what about him?” you cut him off, already tired of his annoying tangent.

“I said he asked about you.”

“I heard that already,” you nod, looking at him with expecting eyes. “And?”

Jihoon stares at you, unblinking, as if you fell on your head and he’s trying to comprehend if you’re still here with him or if you got a concussion and need to be transferred into a hospital. When the contact of his eyes on your skin gets a bit too uncomfortable– you swear his looks could actually kill someone, if he tried enough– you furrow your brows at him in confusion and shake your head in disbelief.

“Why are you staring at me like that, Park Jihoon?”

“Just tryna see if you’re really that stupid or if you’re just pretending,” he mutters under his nose before he sighs again– his favorite activity whenever you’re around, it seems– and speaks up again, tone of voice reminding you of a kindergartener teacher trying to explain why it gets dark in the evening to a bunch of 4 year olds. “You know, when people ask about you, they are usually interested in you, as in, my friend Hyunsuk didn’t ask because you’re nice, but because you’re hot, if you know what I'm getting onto.”

“Oh,” you get out, eyes wide in concern and a little shaken-up, “well, that’s… nice of him, I guess.”

Jihoon only hums at you before he looks around himself and brings out the bag of chips that he left open by his right side only a few seconds ago, not really speaking more about the topic. It’s either he’s waiting for you to get what he’s hinting at, or he’s just waiting for you to get even more confused and ask him about it in a few seconds again– either way, he’s not the one doing more talking right now, because conversations with you, the most oblivious person he’s ever seen, are never productive if he goes too fast.

Chewing on the chips, his eyes go wide when you finally open your mouth and talk more about the topic at hand– just like he predicted. “Why are you telling me this?”

Your best friend swallows before he places the bag of chips back to its original place and turns his whole body so he’s facing you, speaking up again. “I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, you’d like to hang out with him. Like a date, before you ask– because I know you’re gonna ask– and why? – because, again, I know you’re gonna ask– because I simply think you should try to date again to get your mind off the loser you broke up with two months ago,” he says, blunt and honest, answering all of your unsaid questions at once, and before you know it, he has you snickering and shaking your head in disapproval.

“Absolutely not,” you retort, waving your hands in the air to only further show your disagreement with the proposition, “that would just be a massive catastrophe.”

“Why? Hyunsuk’s nice.”

“I didn’t say he isn’t, it’s just…”

“Just?” he probes you, eyebrows raised and questioning.

“I… don’t know,” you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek, aimlessly shrugging. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Jihoon.”

“Because of Mark?” he asks, and the moment his name escapes your best friend’s mouth, the whole room goes strangely quiet– you feel your heartbeat in your throat, the tips of your fingers start tingling and you swear that if you concentrate hard enough, you could feel a bead of sweat drip down your forehead with the incoming stress and nerves only the mention of your ex boyfriend brings you.

“No, that’s not it–”

“Sure,” he nods, sighing to himself– and there it is again, the judging look you so despise.

“You can’t just expect me to date other people a few weeks after my break up, Jihoon,” you exclaim, “that– that wouldn’t even be fair to your friend. You know I wouldn’t be invested,” you explain, and your friend rolls his eyes in frustration, sighing to himself.

“Oh but I know that! And Hyunsuk does too,” he shakes his head at you, “just thought the company of someone else could take your mind off things.”

“I have you,” you try.

“Yeah, but all we do when we’re together is mope about Mark Lee,” Jihoon snickers, “and don’t get me wrong, I’m more than open to bitch about your ex boyfriend and as your best friend, I don’t mind, but the fact that you’d be hanging out with someone else could take your mind off him, because you wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about him with someone else, y’know?”

You shut your eyes closed, a heavy sigh heaving out of your body as you try hard to concentrate and not lose it, and with how Jihoon’s tone gets softer and he’s not as loud with his brutal, yet logical advice, he must feel you getting overwhelmed and accommodates to your needs. “Look, it’s gonna be fun. I promise. Hang out with someone new, feel wanted and hot and pretty again, get some male attention that’s not your ex boyfriend, and you’ll see how it makes you feel. If you hate it, you hate it and you can slap me, I don’t know... If you don’t, you can keep dating around with my friends, and I swear I’ll hook you up only with the nice ones,” he takes your hand into his and waves it around in comfort, making you open your eyes and look at him again.

Seeing the softness and encouragement in your best friend’s eyes, you sigh to yourself. All this time, he’s tried to help you– what if you finally follow his advice? Who knows, it might even help. 

Sighing, you squeeze his palm and hover over him to get the stranded bag of chips he’s guarding on the other side of the sofa. “Fine,” you mutter, “but let your friend know that he’s the one paying, okay?”

“Perfect. I'll text him your number, then.“

And maybe Jihoon was right and after dolling yourself up and dressing up in your favorite dress just so you would feel as comfortable as possible, you don’t feel as bad when his friend Hyunsuk picks you up in his white Volvo and chats with you on the way to the restaurant. He makes good small talk and even gets a giggle out of you, the music in his car is low and you find yourself slowly easing into the situation. You don’t remember when the last time you went out with a guy that wasn’t Mark was, but it’s surprisingly nice. 

And Jihoon was right– you feel pretty. And when Hyunsuk opens the door for you after pulling up to the parking lot of the restaurant, you even feel wanted. You like the attention, just like any other girl would, and the smile you offer to your date seeps of tender shyness as you get out of the comfortable seat of his car. 

The illusion, though, is soon broken as you notice the restaurant he pulled up to. Your smile freezes, your palms get sweaty and you feel your heartbeat rummaging against your ribcage as soon as the idle atmosphere of the restaurant opens up before you. And realistically, you could turn on your heel and get back to the car, tell Hyunsuk that you want to go to another restaurant– but you don’t do it, against your biggest wishes, because you worry that the boy already made a reservation and you don’t want to ruin an evening that’s going well so far.

“Everything alright?” your date checks up on you, seemingly noticing the frown on your face, and when his worried eyes meet yours, it’s sealed– you’d feel too bad for pulling out of the date now. So you only do what you always do best– you put on your best relaxed smile and nod, catching up to him and ensuring him that you’re all okay and you didn’t just talk yourself out of an anxiety attack. 

Because you owe it to him and to Jihoon– both of them worked so hard to make you feel happy and help you to get over your ex boyfriend. It’s not Hyunsuk’s fault that he just managed to pick the restaurant your said ex boyfriend works at part-time. He had no way of knowing, and if you’re lucky enough, Mark wouldn’t be on today. He only works here part-time, it’s not like he’s here every day, and as far as you’re concerned, he only worked like two or three days a week when you dated. It would be a weird coincidence for him to be working the day you go there with your new date– you hope you’re not that unlucky.

Hyunsuk is a gentleman. Opening up doors for you, pulling out the chair for you, letting you talk and not interrupting you. He watches you with fond eyes and you almost try to feel bad for the fact that even if this ended well, the poor boy would just end up being a rebound. He deserves so much more, and you start to worry if this date was a good idea after all. Wasn’t it selfish of you to agree to this? 

“What do you want to get?” he asks as you open up the menu, and you squint at the prices, mentally taking a note to order the cheapest thing just in case he wants to pay for you at the end of the evening. 

“Spaghetti Bolognese,” you blurt out, despite it not being your favorite meal. Hyunsuk just stares at you with squinted eyes, but doesn’t disagree with you. After all, he has no way of knowing that you dislike the taste of the sauce in most restaurants– even though your conscience tells you that Mark knew that and always made sure to remind you about it before ordering for you, worried that you won’t get to eat much that evening– the only thing left to hope is that it tastes good in this particular place. 

“Okay, sure,” he nods and puts the menu down, smiling at you before engaging in a comfortable conversation with you. It feels like you’ve known Hyunsuk forever– his personality oddly reminding you of Jihoon’s caused mainly by the fact that the two have grown up together. Everything flows soundly, but you still find yourself anxiously picking at your cuticles as you cautiously look around the restaurant, fearing the fact that you could catch a glimpse of your ex boyfriend at any second.

And maybe you should be a psychic, because those bad feelings were not there for nothing– when you see a waiter walking out of the back and eyeing your table, ready to get your order, the boy is a few inches taller than your current date, raven hair messy, but still a little styled, dark circles under the man’s eyes, and there he is– your ex boyfriend. Mark Lee halts in his movements, wearing his work uniform, eyes wide, a hint of something that breaks you at least in two mirroring in his orbs before he turns on his heel and disappears in the back again. When he doesn’t come back and his co-worker joins you and Hyunsuk at your table with a warm smile, you stop waiting to see the glimpse of him you selfishly desired to catch despite fearing the interaction the whole evening.

You want to fall through the floor and disappear in the depths of this earth. For some reason, you feel mortified. What would he think? And why do you even care about his feelings? A million different thoughts run through your brain and you worry that you’re being too distant from your current date, but Hyunsuk’s warm eyes reassure you that he doesn’t mind. 

Piercing the food on your table with your eyes, you try to battle the noisy words running around your brain. 

It’s easy to say you’re over someone when you don’t see them. To have them in front of you, meet their gaze and acknowledge their existence and still be able to nod and say that you’ve moved on, is something completely different. 

Were you ever convinced that you were over Mark Lee in the first place, though?

After all of this– the months of following Jihoon’s advice, although making a few mishaps along the way as you continue to pick up Mark’s calls on Friday nights, snoop around his socials and let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t, overthinking everything and making you wish the relationship never ended in the first place– it’s time for the last step of it all. The last, most crucial part of this whole moving on process– the most important one, if you may.

Step five – avoid him at all costs.

Sounds easy, right? After the four previous steps, you’d already cried plenty about the lost months with your ex-boyfriend. You’d already given him back all of his stuff, not tying yourself to him with any material memory. You’d already gone on a date with someone new, choosing to distract yourself instead of letting yourself feel the emotions. After all the previous steps, this one’s supposed to be the easiest one. The one you’re supposed to want to do, after all. The break-up wasn’t messy, but it was still painful– it’s only natural for you to not want to see Mark ever again, right?

Wrong.

Because you never listen to the advice you’re given. That just wouldn’t be you, would it?

And so when Mark Lee calls you one day and tells you that he has a free train ticket to the Bukhansan stop, explaining that he was supposed to go hike there with Donghyuck who canceled on him last minute because of an assignment due midnight, you don’t really hesitate much before you shoot him a short text saying that you’re down and get ready for the short hike. 

When you meet your ex boyfriend at the station, his figure slightly slouched up until the moment his eyes meet yours, you feel the quiet tension in the air. You’ve seen each other a few times before this meeting– on a party you went to with Jihoon, at the campus when you went to class one morning, your ex boyfriend walking you towards the Art building, hell, you’ve even met in the grocery store, all accidental and making your heart leap in your chest with tension. This time, though, you’re here completely intentionally, just to hang out with him, and something about the fact makes a dull pain shoot all through your intestines, a sensation so uncomfortable you try to hide with a tight-lipped smile. 

“Ready for the hike?” he asks, adjusting the bag on his back, playing with the straps with clammy fingers. You can’t help but notice how he looks just like a little boy, in his little world, shielded from everything. He seems to have taken a protective stance, and you hate how the air between you shifted from how you two used to be when you were dating. Mark seems scared. Nervous. On top of his feet. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this at all.

You’re already here, though. Turning around and leaving wouldn’t really work right now, as you take a step towards the train that’s just arrived, humming to your ex boyfriend in agreement. Taking a seat on the place Mark’s pointed to you on the train ticket, you try to loosen up your muscles and get as comfortable as you can, clearing your mind as you gaze outside of the window.

“How have you been?” he asks, clearing his throat.

Pressing your lips into a tight line, you turn to him as you search for an answer. “Better,” you nod, voice quiet. “You?”

Mark hums, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Good, good,” he lies through his teeth, “I’ve seen you at the restaurant the other day,” he hints, and you battle the sigh that’s begging to cut out of your throat. You don’t know where he’s going with the sentence. It’s not a question– only a proposition, barely even that– and you could ignore it with a nod of your head, you could pay it no mind as you see the bitterness in his gaze and the slightly self-conscious averting of his stare. You don’t know where he’s going with the conversation, but frankly, you don’t know where you are going with your answer either, as you shrug to him in a casual manner and peep under your breath.

“Yeah,” you say, “that was just… Jihoon’s friend from uni, I suppose,” you complete, and the sentence hints at nothing– it doesn’t clear out the confusion, it doesn’t outright say anything that could make Mark believe that it was just a casual hang-out with a friend, but still, you see the boy visibly relax as he nods to you and offers you a tight-lipped smile.

“Oh,” he hums, looking out of the window, past the profile of your face. The change in topic is sudden and sharp, but also welcome as he falls into a casual conversation with you, and suddenly, you’re reminded by the Mark you once knew– the guy you’ve once called not socially awkward, but so social that it’s awkward– as he talks to you about his day and rambles on about the weather. “It’s good that it won’t rain today, I bet the view will be nice.”

Locking your gaze with him for a brief second, you lick your lips and point your eyes towards the ground. It’s good that it won’t rain today, as opposed to last time you two went to the Bukhansan trail. You wonder if he remembers.

Before you have a chance to mention it– and in all reality, you won’t, no matter how bold you could be feeling at the moment– the train comes to a stop at your station and you hop out of the carriage, ready for the hike.

It’s easy to forget how messed up things have gotten between the two of you when you walk alongside with your ex boyfriend, laughing at his silly jokes and gasping at everything he shows to you with a pointed finger, finding yourself admiring the sound of his giggle when he spots a squirrel pass your path somewhere near the top of the hill. The trail is almost empty at this hour, since the two of you have decided to go in the late afternoon, and you find your soul to finally be at peace after so many weeks, you finally feel relaxed in the nature, one with the wind and the gentle sound of birds chirping lullying your running thoughts to a rest. 

You realize that this is just what you needed all this time. You needed to get out and walk for some while, to tune out yourself and to accept the fact that you’re still here, for another day, and something about that is still a blessing. Watching the back of Mark’s head as he walks a step in front of you due to the narrowness of the trail in this area, you smile to yourself. It’s easy to forget just how much you were hurt by him when he heals your soul with such a simple gesture. It’s easy to forget you were hurt when he seemingly tries to put all the broken pieces back together, glue them to where they were in the first place, when things were easier and you both didn’t have so many things to worry about. 

You reach the top just as the sun starts setting over the horizon, and there are only a few people scattered across the peak, sitting on their own picnic blankets and gazing into the distance. The hues of the sky paint the world in a different color, the oranges, pinks and muted purples playing with your heartstrings as you come to a halt and crouch down and feel the presence of another soul mirror your actions only a meter away to your right, his gaze glued to your side. The view is beautiful, but the feeling of being watched isn’t ignorable anymore, and so you turn to your companion and raise your eyebrows at him, wondering if he has something to say.

You don’t know how you’ll be able to come back to your life after this and pretend you still don’t want to spend every passing second with the man on your right. You don’t know how you’re supposed to ignore the ever so growing love for him– even though after being so disappointed with the past, the feelings should be decreasing, not doing the opposite– and frankly, you don’t even want to think of going back to the way it’s been for the past few months. And so you don’t– you allow yourself to indulge the moment, to ignore the pain that’s about to come, just so you could hold another beautiful memory to your heart and enjoy the moment before it hurts you to think of it tomorrow morning. 

“It’s even more beautiful than the last time,” Mark hums, but his eyes never leave your figure– if you were still dating, you bet he’d come out with a cheesy line about how you’re prettier than the view, or something. “It didn’t rain this time around, thank god.”

Gazing at him, you shake your head in disbelief. Scoffing, you play with the grass between your fingers. “You remember that?”

“Yeah,” he hums, “I remember a lot of things.”

The sentence makes you bitterly chuckle. He knows why you’re reacting the way you are– and you have every right to. He claims to remember a lot of things, but the ones important to you, the ones you wanted him to remember, he failed to save into his memory. And that’s eventually what made you break up with him, at the end of it all.

At your reaction, he sighs and drags a hand across his face, seemingly realizing the weight of his own words and just how ridiculous he must have sounded to you right now. 

“I- That-” he stutters, shaking his head, “that sounded stupid right now, considering… everything… Didn’t it?”

“Kind of,” you nod, not wanting to meet his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, voice suddenly raw and serious, so different to the tone he’s been using with you the whole afternoon, “I don’t- I can’t remember if I said that back then, when you- when you… broke up with me, but I really am sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that, and I am in no way shape or form trying to make this about me, but I hate myself every day for the way things turned out and if I could go back to that day, I’d do so many things differently.”

The sky in front of you deepens in reds and you taste iron on your tongue, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you’ve managed to bite on your lip too hard in the midst of the conversation. Tearing out stems of grass with your clammy fingertips, you focus on the clouds running through the sky, calculating your next response.

“Okay,” you nod, not giving him much else. The answer perfectly encapsulates the way you feel on the inside right now– you don’t know if you’re ready to accept his apology, if you’re ready to let go of it and act like you weren’t hurt or that none of it ever happened, but you listened to him and you internalized his words. He is sorry. He knows he was in the wrong. And you were aware that he knew all of this before– hell, you’d even go as far as say he knew it the moment you knocked on his door that day and told him it was over– but hearing it from him surely moved something inside of you to a more comfortable place.

“I-” he starts, voice breaking making him clear his throat before he continues, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. And I know I shouldn’t have expected you to still be my friend after all of this, and that- I shouldn’t have even called you so many times and approached you at the store and stuff, but um-” he mumbles, shrugging to himself, “I guess I just couldn’t stay away from you. And again, I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t expect you to do anything, really. So… yeah…”

Snickering at his aimless monologue, you shake your head in disbelief. “Mark?”

“Yeah?” he stares at you, eyes a bottomless pool of emotion.

“Why did you invite me here today? What was the… point, I guess?” you ask, hugging your knees to your chest as the breeze makes goosebumps appear all over your body. 

Mark offers you a sad smile, head leaned to his right as he shrugs, and this time, his eyes don’t leave yours as he spills the truth into the air. “I guess I was just feeling selfish today,” he hums, and the sentence makes you cringe with the memory of his first call to you after your break up, “wanted to spend time with you.”

“Here, of all places?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “told you. I was feeling selfish.”

Snickering, you look away, staring at the sky again. The colors are starting to blend together into a deep, dark purple– the horizon darkening as the sun starts to say its final goodbyes to the day. You sigh to yourself, yet feel no bitterness or terror at his words. Somehow, you understand. Somehow, you get him a little too well. Somehow, you think you knew the moment he texted you today, and somehow, you think you felt it in your bones when you didn’t say no, although you could have. There’s calmness in your soul when you nod at the implication of his words, leaning back on your elbows and plopping your bottom to the ground, sitting at the dusty surface. 

“You said you didn’t expect anything out of me today, Mark.”

“And I don’t,” he says, voice soft. 

“And you brought me here to remind me of the last time we went?” you stare at him, a hint of a bitten-back smile playing with your lips. “Because you’re selfish?” 

He nods, not escaping your gaze. “To remind you of the last time we went. To show you that… I remember, I guess. And that I still care, just like the last time. If not more.”

“Mark, you can’t just say all of this and expect nothing out of me right now,” you mutter.

“Actually, I can. Because that’s what I’m doing. I’m just… laying it out in the open, and what you do with the information is completely, completely up to you,” he explains, and you find yourself chuckling at him, the atmosphere instantly lighter as you hear his voice in its usual casualness, talking to you as if he was just unpacking what went on in class today, and not the starting and the end of your one year relationship.

And he’s right. What you do with the information is completely up to you, and the next steps and the progress of your relationship with Mark Lee is also completely in your hands. You could turn away and never talk to him again, you could curse at him and tell him that it’s too late now and he missed his chance, but if that was the case, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. He wouldn’t be inviting you to this place, lying about his roommate canceling just to trick you into going, and you wouldn’t be blindly accepting the invitation, wanting to see where the afternoon brings you. 

“So you still care about me?” you hum, looking at him from under your eyelashes, noticing his slouched-over pose as he looks back at you over his shoulder.

“Always have,” he admits, “never stopped. Despite not really… acting like it in the past few months.”

“Why’d you stop acting like it, then?” you ask.

A sigh escapes his lips, his head turning forward before he leans back and sits cross-legged on the ground, more comfortably now. Shrugging, he answers the question. “I guess I just got too caught up with different things. And don’t get me wrong, you were always my priority, always, but I was all over the place with everything and my mind just couldn’t… there were too many things to keep up with and I couldn’t stay up to date with everything,” he says, “and I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation, and it doesn’t make it better or undo the pain I’ve caused you, but it’s… at least you know it was never because I’d care about you any less.”

His eyes bear into yours with such honesty you think the weight of the world will crash on you any minute, and suddenly, the whole situation seems so much clearer.

And you wouldn’t take it back, you wouldn’t undo the breakup or do anything differently, because at the end of the day, you think it was needed. Perhaps the time apart was what he needed as a wake up call and what you needed to shield yourself from hurting more. 

“Stop me from saying it if you… if you don’t want to hear it right now,” he hums, voice barely louder than a whisper. There seems to be a silent communication between the two of you, a connection of some sort that brings out the strange telepathy, but you just nod at him, a gentle smile playing with your lips as you understand exactly what he means, telling him that it’s okay and that you don’t mind– you welcome, you need to hear him say it again.

Licking his lips, he turns to you fully, facing you. There’s not a hint of nervousness in his body, having done this a lot of times before, and then it happens– the repeated confession, confirming what was there the whole time, never leaving even when the times were rough. 

“I love you,” he says.

And isn’t that all that’s needed? 

A year is a long time with someone. Somehow, you wouldn’t want the time to go to waste. At the end of the day, if love is still present, isn’t it worth trying? One more time?

“And you still don’t expect anything from me?” you ask, gazing at him softly. “You don’t expect me to say it back?”

“No,” he breathes out, shrugging. “I just needed to get it off my chest.”

“Because you’re selfish like that,” you nod, teasing him. 

“Because I’m selfish like that,” he agrees, breaking out into a slight grin.

Looking at the sky, now completely dipped in dark purple, you sigh to yourself at the turmoil of the conversation. You don’t say it back– although you feel it, you know it’s in there, playing with your heartstrings and clenching the muscle in the palm of its hand– you know love is there, deep inside, for the man that’s currently staring at you as if you hung the very stars appearing on the sky there yourself, stolen them from your own eyes and gluing them there selflessly, for everyone to see. You don’t tell him you love him back, you don’t tell him you forgive him or accept his apology. You don’t worry about what tomorrow will bring you, what your brain is going to tell you when you come down from the hill and get home, lay in your bed and overthink. You let the worries escape you, letting fondness and calm envelope you in a tight hug instead.

“Okay,” you nod, watching the boy next to you look at you with curious eyes. You take his hand into yours and place it on your thigh, playing with his fingers for a heartbeat before you meet his eyes again and smile. “I won’t say it back, but for all it’s worth, Mark… I’m glad you remembered.”

And that’s all he needs– there is love, there is fondness, and there is the silent confirmation that all you need right now is just a bit more time. 

Where do broken hearts go?

Somehow, you think they hold on to the place where it all started. Somehow, you think your heart never went anywhere– it stayed on this hill, waiting for you to pay it a visit and pick back up everything right from where you left it.

“It doesn’t seem like a good idea to go here today, Y/N,” Mark laughed behind you as he looked up to the sky, the dark clouds shielding the sun that had been previously shining down on your hiking figures, casting an orange glow on the strands of your hair. 

“Well, there’s no turning back now,” you shrugged, turning to him and grinning as you tugged on his hand, grip strong as you dragged the boy up the trail, your sneakers fast against the dirty ground. “We have finals starting next week and it’s gonna be too cold to go after the exam season is over, so we gotta go now.”

“I kind of regret telling you that I’ve never been here before now,” Mark sighed, but followed you nonetheless, breathlessly following your excited stride. It was October, the leaves on the trees were welcoming the two of you in shining colors, and the wind kissing your skin turned a bit chilly in the evenings– courtesy of the warm hoodie Mark shyly lended you when you shivered for the first time, adoring the way you, his friend, looked in the light gray fabric. Something about you wearing his clothes made the boy a bit hopeless about the day. Maybe he’ll have enough courage to confess his feelings to you, he thought. Maybe, despite the first raindrops falling on the skin of his bare arms, this evening will have a happy ending for you and him. 

“Oh, please,” you squinted at him, continuing to run up the hill– thank god it wasn’t that steep, serving both of you as the perfect hiking difficulty, “even if you wouldn’t have, I’d drag you here anyway. It’s like, my favorite place to go in Seoul, haven’t I told you before?”

You have, Mark thought. But he was okay with hearing it again. 

You squealed when the raindrops got heavier and the rain started pouring faster on the two of you, and Mark found himself laughing at your running figure. He was right behind you, praying that you don’t slip on one of the rocks and break your leg on the hiking trail, but he encouraged you with sweet comments and a hand on the small of your back as he watched the tip of the hill appear right in front of his very eyes, your body coming to a satisfied halt when you reached your destination.

“Tada!” you grinned at him, twirling a little like a ballerina, showing him the place with outstretched arms. He tried hard to observe the place, but his eyes stayed glued to your excited figure, gaze bearing into yours as you looked at him, amidst a little flustered, with sparkly orbs and a bright smile on your face. Your hair was a mess, his gray hoodie enveloping your body was slowly growing darker in color from absorbing the rain, and your sneakers were getting a bit muddy from walking around the place. He wanted to remember this moment forever, he thought– this version of you, the smiley expression on your face, the carefree and excited nature of your step. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?” you exclaimed, jumping around and nearing the boy, but as you went to take his hand to drag him around the top of the hill once more, your feet slipped and you fell forward, a surprised squeak battling its way out of your throat.

Your whole life flashed in front of your very eyes in that moment, embarrassment spreading down your neck at the fact that you were about to fall face first onto the ground in front of your crush of a few months, before your body collided with a soft, yet firm mass engulfing you closer. A pair of strong arms steadied you against his chest, and when you looked up at your friend, you swear all words were taken out of your dictionary, the sight leaving you speechless.

“It is,” he gaped, eyes bearing into yours. Mark was agreeing with you, but something in the back of your head was telling you that he didn’t really admire this place as much as you did– his curious gaze was always plastered somewhere completely else. 

That place being your face, of course. And your eyes, your cheeks, the mess of your bangs, and occasionally– screw that, almost always– your lips. Much like in that moment, a few centimeters away from his face, so inviting he thought it would be a crime to contain the urge. 

And so he didn’t– he didn’t control his feelings and the ever-so growing yearning for you, as he silently leaned towards your face and captured his lips with yours in a firm, yet short kiss.

He looked at you with a nervous tint behind his gaze when he leaned away, the sight of your wide eyes staring at him making a slight flush grow on his cheeks. You looked so beautiful in that moment– flustered, surprised, with messy hair and lips still apart– and he was relieved to not find a hint of a displeased emotion in your expression. 

“Okay, so- well-” you stuttered, laughing to yourself, “this didn’t go as I planned, but I guess I’m happy as long as the final result is the same,” you hummed, standing on your tippy-toes and pressing your lips against him once more, this time letting yourself enjoy the moment fully, mouth moving against his in a careful, yet excited rhythm. He tasted like the strawberry candy you offered him on the bottom of the trail and smelled a bit like rain, the mixture always staying in the depths of your mind as his warmth enveloped you in comfort and a feeling of home.

“The final result being…?” he asked when you pulled apart once again, a dazed expression overtaking his sharp features.

“Us,” you shrugged, “like this,” you clarified.

Mark laughed at that, hugging you closer to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, listening to the sound of raindrops washing away the top layer of dirt off the rocks on the tip of the hill, hands sneaking around his waist and enjoying the way they wrapped around him so tightly and so comfortably. You in his hoodie, in your favorite place, standing in his arms. It was raining, but it didn’t matter.

“Mark?” 

“Hm?” 

“If we ever get lost, or something happens… bring me back here, okay?” you mumbled close to his ear, lips gently glazing the skin of his ear, making goosebumps appear all over your new lover. “I’m convinced that this place could fix everything.”

“Even us?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not allowed to ever leave me now, what would there be to fix between us?” you smacked his shoulder, snickering to yourself.

“You never know,” he laughed, “what if I accidentally mess up somewhere along the way?” he asked, threading his fingers through your hair, smoothing down the wet mess.

“Okay then,” you hummed, “even us.”

Staring into your eyes, letting the moment play out by itself, Mark swore he’s never felt more at peace. He wondered if it was the effect of the place, the rain, or just your sheer presence.  “I’ll remember that,” he giggled before he let go of your body, petting your head as he took a hold of your hand, tugging you down from where you came from, “now let’s go home before we catch a cold.”

Nodding, following the man as you both carefully, yet fastly made it down the trail, you enjoyed the way his hand fit into yours and the way you knew that after this, you can’t ever come back to being friends with Mark Lee. He was all yours, completely, utterly yours, and you knew in the back of your head, that you were his– and nothing will ever change that.

You would always come back to the hill with him. It felt ridiculous to think about you two ever having to fix anything between the two of you back then, but even in that moment, you knew that for him, you’d keep trying. As long as he does– as long as he remembers.

Where do broken hearts go? You guess they always come right back to the place they come from– and they leave glued back together every single time.

You guess your heart never really left the hill.

[poisonlove]

The Ghost of halloween p.2 | A.D

Pairing: Astrid X reader

Astrid pov's

"Is it this way?" my mother asks with a small smile on her lips.

I nod without answering, pressing my lips together and turning my head toward the window.

I didn’t want her to see how uncomfortable I felt. We had argued again, and as always, she had decided that moving was the only solution. Panicking, I had told her I had a date today.

"It's really nice here," Lydia Deetz says, looking at the neighborhood decorated for Halloween: gardens filled with decorations, skeletons hanging from trees, and people in costumes getting ready to celebrate.

When we arrive in front of the house, her eyes land on a lit window.

"Oh... it's a girl," my mother exclaims in surprise.

"Mom..." I whisper, feeling my cheeks flush.

"She's very cute," she adds with a mischievous smile, giving me a sidelong glance. I feel my face heat up even more.

"Okay, bye," I finally say, my voice tense, as I open the door.

"I’ll pick you up at 10. Have fun, sweetheart!" she calls out, her voice happier than ever. I shut the door with a loud thud, the sound of my mother’s car driving away echoing.

I sigh and close my eyes for a moment, clutching the bag full of candy and snacks. Then, with hesitant steps, I head toward the porch of the house.

I raise my hand and knock on the door.

I waited nervously for the door to open, my heart pounding in my chest. When I finally see Y/n, a smile spreads across my face. I’m wearing a long, puffy dress in a pale gray, as if it had been corroded by radiation, perfectly embodying Marie Curie. The high collar and puffy sleeves give me an elegant yet eerie appearance.

Y/n looks me up and down, and her smile widens. "You look beautiful," she says, her eyes shining. She was wearing the same clothes as yesterday.

I feel my face heat up, blushing fiercely. "I'm Marie Curie," I say, trying to mask my embarrassment. I’m not sure if she got my reference.

"The scientist who died from radiation, I know." Y/n’s response surprises me.

I smile, incredulous and happy, as the tension in me melts away.

"Is that bag?" Y/n asks curiously, leaning slightly toward me.

"I thought we could eat some junk food and watch some movies... You know... it’s Halloween," I say timidly, feeling my cheeks flush.

Y/n smiles, and her enthusiasm encourages me. "Sounds like a great idea, come in."

I enter, glancing around curiously, immediately noticing a strange but oddly comforting silence.

"How come there’s no one here?" I ask curiously, following Y/n upstairs.

"Oh, my parents aren’t home," she says simply, guiding me to her room.

Once inside, I look around, noticing the 90s posters and details that make the room feel so cozy. "What movie do you want to watch?" Y/n asks, approaching the shelf of films. My eyes land on a book on the table: The Handbook for the Recently Deceased. I smile amused. "What a strange book," I comment.

"I found it at a stall," Y/n replies distractedly.

As she scans the titles, I feel a mix of anxiety and excitement. "Maybe something horror?" I suggest, a shy smile on my face.

"Perfect," she says, but then slowly moves closer.

Our hands brush, and in an instant, she leans in and kisses me. Her cold lips against mine are unexpected, but I feel a warm explosion of emotions. When I open my eyes, a smile spreads across my face, but right after, I realize we’re floating. The joy vanishes, replaced by a grimace of terror.

I quickly pull away from her, the disappointment clear in her eyes.

"Are you a ghost?" I say in disbelief. Are my mom’s crazy ideas real?

She nods, and my heart races.

"Why didn’t you tell me? How did you die?" I ask, incredulous but curious.

Y/n sighs, her face growing serious.

"I didn’t want to scare you, I haven’t had a decent conversation in years... And it was my father... After he killed his partner with an axe, he finished me off too, his only daughter. Then he died from poisoning." She slowly lifts her shirt, revealing a deep cut on her stomach.

The sight of that mark makes my blood run cold. I can’t believe what she’s saying, yet I can’t look away.

"Why did you lie to me?" I ask, my voice strangely calm despite the turmoil I feel inside.

Y/n scratches her head, her face turning a little red with embarrassment. "I told you, I wanted company... and I also wanted to surprise you," she finally confesses, her shyness evident in her tone.

I raise an eyebrow, confused. "A surprise?" I repeat, trying to understand where she’s going with this.

"I know we only met yesterday, but... you’re a good person, Astrid. And I... wanted to help you see your father," she murmurs, her voice fading as if it was hard to admit.

My eyes widen, taken aback by her words. "Is it possible?" I ask, the emotion clinging to my chest, making it hard to breathe.

Y/n nods, serious, and a part of me, the part that never stopped hoping, starts to believe it’s true.

An unexpected joy bursts inside me. Before I can stop myself, I approach and hug her tightly, but the moment my arms touch her, her body passes through mine as if made of smoke. The sensation leaves me stunned: cold and insubstantial, yet with a certain warmth, a distant echo of humanity.

"Sorry," I mutter embarrassed, while she laughs softly, not making a big deal out of it.

Without saying a word, Y/n steps away and heads toward a corner of the room. She bends down and picks up a small white object, lifting it toward me with a knowing smile. "A piece of chalk?" I ask, squinting in confusion, but without taking my eyes off her ethereal figure.

She nods and, with precise movements, draws a door on the wall of her room. When she finishes, she stands next to me, looking at the drawing with a strange satisfaction. The drawing almost seems to pulse with life, as if an unknown force was stirring behind that simple figure.

"It’s the door to the other world," she says with a small smile, her tone light as if she were talking about something trivial.

I feel my heart race in my chest. "And what am I supposed to do?" I ask, even more confused, staring at the drawing with evident skepticism.

"Knock," she says calmly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Hesitantly, I approach the drawn door, my hand trembling slightly. I knock, feeling ridiculous. Who knocks on a drawing? But a moment later, a dull sound echoes beyond the wall, and before I can react, the drawing comes to life. The door creaks open with a chilling sound, revealing a passage that emits thick, glowing smoke. A cold breeze wraps around me, along with a spectral light, like that of an old neon sign.

I stand still, my mouth open in amazement. In front of me unfolds the world of the dead. It’s exactly as I imagined: chaotic, grotesque, yet strangely fascinating. The walls seem to be made of a material never seen before, a mix of rotting flesh and crumbling concrete, covered with drawings and graffiti that shift shape before my eyes. Indistinct shadows move at the edge of my vision, as if the world itself was breathing. The sky above us isn’t a real sky: it’s an endless ceiling of greenish mist, studded with metallic pipes and flickering light bulbs.

In the distance, I hear the hum of old fans and the sound of distorted laughter, like an echo from a forgotten cabaret. Creatures of all shapes wander in what seems to be a surreal public office, each with a more bizarre appearance than the last: some have gigantic heads, others are reduced to walking skeletons, and still others seem to melt into goo. The world feels like a collage of forgotten things and distorted memories, a mix of the surreal and the macabre.

"Welcome," Y/n whispers beside me.

I turn to her, still in disbelief, but my heart is pounding, full of a hope I can’t suppress. Maybe, in that chaotic madness, I’ll finally get to see my father.

(...)

As we walk through the world of the dead, my head spins as I try to catch every detail, but everything is so surreal that it feels like being trapped in a nightmare. The gray and decaying offices are populated by grotesque figures moving with indifference. Faceless shadows wander the hallways, and distorted laughter continues in the distance.

"It's... strange," I whisper, my voice tense, "This place... how can it exist?"

Y/n glances at me, but before she can answer, a chilling sound fills the air. A shrill, metallic alarm starts echoing everywhere.

"ALERT! UNAUTHORIZED HUMAN PRESENCE!" A robotic and sinister voice booms through the walls.

Y/n’s eyes widen, her face pale. "Oh no... the human alarm!"

"W-what?" I stammer, but before I can grasp what’s happening, Y/n grabs my wrist, pulling me forcefully.

"We have to go! Now!" she yells, starting to run towards the exit. The creatures around us freeze, some turning with ravenous eyes, others beginning to move towards us with eerie slowness.

We race through the hallways like two shadows, our footsteps echoing as the sound of the alarm grows louder. The lights flicker, and I can hear the frantic pounding of my heart in my ears. Every corner seems to distort, making it hard to tell which way is out.

We turn a corner down a long corridor and stop abruptly. In front of us are two familiar figures. One is my mother, Lydia, with her unmistakable black bob and stern look. But the figure next to her leaves me breathless: a man with messy hair and a black and white striped suit, with a mischievous and cocky expression. Beetlejuice.

"Y/n?" says Beetlejuice, his eyes widening in surprise. "What are you doing here, kid?"

Y/n grits her teeth, her voice a tense whisper. "Dad..."

I feel a lump forming in my throat as my mother and I turn to each other, both of us with mouths agape in shock.

"Dad?" I repeat incredulously, my eyes wide as I look at Y/n.

Lydia doesn’t have time for questions. She grabs both of us by the arms. "We have to go, now!" she shouts, and we start running, with Y/n still pulling me even harder.

Behind us, the alarm continues to blare, and the footsteps of the authorities from the world of the dead begin to echo closer. Beetlejuice lags behind, chuckling as if this were all a game to him.

We run towards a door, but when Lydia flings it open, instead of finding a way out, we fall into the void, tumbling into scorching sand. I hit the ground hard, raising a cloud of dust, coughing from the impact.

"No... no, no, no!" Lydia screams, scrambling to her feet. "We’re in the sandworm desert!"

I struggle to stand, but panic takes over when I see the ground shaking beneath us. In the distance, the giant sandworm emerges from the dune, speeding towards us at a terrifying pace. Its long, scaly body slithers through the sand like a dark shadow.

Y/n grabs my hand and starts running, dragging me along with her. "Come on! We can't stop!"

Lydia follows close behind, her face twisted in fear, but the worm is too fast. I can feel it getting closer, its gaping mouth emitting a piercing scream, ready to devour us.

"It's too close!" I cry, my breath short, but just then, a miracle happens.

From the sky, a door of light suddenly opens above us, and a hand reaches out from nowhere, grabbing each of us. First Y/n, then me, and finally Lydia. With a yank, it pulls us up, taking us away just as the worm opens its jaws beneath us.

The world flips for a moment until we find ourselves on a cold floor, safe. I gasp for air, trying to catch my breath, as Y/n looks at me with concern.

"W-we made it..." Y/n murmurs, still in disbelief.

I look up and see my father watching me with pride. His skin is greenish, with some fish stuck in his hair, but he's smiling all the same.

My eyes fill with tears. "Dad..." I murmur before throwing myself into his arms. "Sweetheart..." he whispers, hugging me tightly. I pull away with a smile I can't hold back.

"I saw Lydia and decided to follow you... But what are you wearing, sweetheart? You look like Marie Curie!" he says with an amused grin, glancing at me. I giggle and nod.

Then, his gaze shifts beyond me, and I notice Lydia approaching. My father smiles at her, reaching out an arm. "Lydia, come here," he says warmly. he embraces her without hesitation. "I miss you ," he whispers, his voice full of affection and gratitude.

Lydia smiles shyly as she returns the hug.

"I miss you too " she replies softly, her voice breaking with emotion.

They separate, and my father turns back to us. "You have to go," he says suddenly, his tone serious.

He puts an arm around my waist and takes my mother’s hand with the other. "You have to go. Now," he repeats urgently, pulling us toward a staircase that seems to materialize out of nowhere.

"I love you, Dad," I say, tears filling my eyes.

"I love you too," he replies, his gaze veiled with tears and a bittersweet smile on his lips before he slowly vanishes.

My mother starts climbing the stairs, but I stay behind, waiting for Y/n.

"Go," she suddenly says, with sadness in her voice.

"Come with me," I say, confused, my heart pounding.

"I don’t know, Astrid... I’m tired of wandering. Maybe my place is here," she replies, her voice trembling.

My heart stops for a moment.

"Don’t be silly, we’ll find a solution," I say, a lump in my throat, and my chest aching.

She shakes her head, resolute.

I feel a sharp pain in my chest, but I move closer to her and grab her hands. Her touch is cold, almost as if there’s nothing to hold onto, but I don’t let go. "I need you. I... I want you," I confess, my cheeks flushing red.

"Astrid..." she murmurs.

"We’ll figure it out, okay? But I need you," I repeat, with all the sincerity I can muster. Y/n looks at me for a few seconds, then sighs and slowly nods.

My face lights up in a huge smile.

Y/n Pov's

Days later, the light of the sunset fills my old room with a warm, orange hue. Everything seems so normal, yet the tension in the air is palpable. Astrid and I sit on the floor, surrounded by lit candles, while her mother draws a complicated circle of runes on the wooden floor. It seems absurd to think that it's really possible, that I can come back to life. And yet, here we are.

The book her mother holds is ancient, its pages worn and yellowed with age. The runes and symbols I see seem to pulse with their own energy, as if the text is more than just paper and ink.

Astrid is close to me, sitting by my side, her gaze serious but kind, just as it always is when she wants to show me that everything will be okay. She was the one who insisted on finding a solution, and when her mother discovered this ancient ritual, she didn’t hesitate. The thought of coming back to life fills me with hope, but also fear. It’s like jumping into the unknown.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask, searching her eyes.

She looks at me without hesitation. “There’s nothing I want more in the world.” Her hand finds mine, warm and reassuring. “I want you here, with me.”

Her mother finishes drawing the circle with white chalk and stands slowly, her gaze focused and attentive. “This is the Rite of Essence Binding,” she says, her voice firm but carrying a gravity I can't ignore. “An ancient practice that binds the soul to the body. But it’s a delicate process. Y/n, you’re suspended between two worlds. This rite will bring your essence back to the living world.”

Her words make my throat tighten. I know something big, something irreversible is about to happen. I feel Astrid squeeze my hand tighter, and I look at her, finding all the courage I need in her.

“Step into the circle,” her mother orders calmly.

Astrid and I stand and position ourselves in the center of the rune drawing. The floor beneath our feet seems to vibrate slightly, as if the ritual had already begun just with our presence. Her mother begins to mutter ancient words that echo in the room as if carried by an invisible wind. The runes drawn on the floor start to glow with a deep, pulsing blue light, and the air becomes thick, charged with energy.

“During the rite, your soul will try to reconnect with your body, but it might face resistance,” her mother explains, not stopping the incantation. “Astrid, you must be her anchor. The bond between you is what will allow the rite to work.”

Astrid never lets go of my hand, and I can feel her strength flowing into me. Every word spoken by her mother pulls me in a different direction, as if my being is divided between the world of the living and the dead. Then, the pain begins.

It’s a deep pain, starting in my chest and expanding into every cell of my body. I feel like I’m being torn in two, as if something is trying to pull me away from reality. But I don’t let go. I hold onto Astrid’s hand with all the strength I have.

The runes beneath our feet shine brighter, the blue light rising like flames around us. I feel my heart beating in my chest, strong and fast. It’s a real, tangible heartbeat. My essence is returning.

“Don’t let go of me,” Astrid whispers, her voice broken with emotion.

“I won’t,” I manage to reply, as the pain intensifies even more, becoming unbearable.

Her mother’s words grow louder, faster. The energy in the room is almost suffocating, and everything builds to a climax. I feel immense pressure, like the entire world is crushing my body, but then, suddenly, the pain shatters, leaving only peace.

The runes glow for one last moment, then the light fades, and with it, silence envelops the room.

I breathe. My chest rises and falls regularly. I feel my heart beating, I feel the blood coursing through my veins. My body is alive.

I look at my hands, incredulous. They’re warm. Truly warm.

“You’re here… You’re back,” Astrid murmurs, her voice filled with emotion.

Her arms wrap around me in a tight embrace, and I return it, finally feeling the warmth of her body against mine. Her hand strokes my back, and I know that, this time, I’m really here.

Her mother closes the book and sighs deeply. “It’s done,” she says, with a small, tired smile. “Y/n, you’re alive.”

All I can do is smile, in disbelief, as I hold onto Astrid, feeling my heart beating strong against hers. I’m no longer a shadow, a memory. I’m real. I’ve come back. And with her, I feel like I can face anything.

"Astrid..." I whisper, my voice trembling but full of emotion. I can’t say more because she suddenly moves closer, her eyes shining with something I’d never seen before. Before I can even realize it, her lips are on mine.

The kiss is sweet, intense, full of everything we’ve felt during those days of waiting and hoping. I feel her warmth, her life melding with mine, and for the first time in a long time, I feel whole. The world around us seems to disappear: it's just the two of us, in that moment.

When we pull apart, her eyes find mine, full of a joy that manages to warm me from within. She smiles at me, and I can’t help but smile back, even though a small corner of uncertainty still lingers inside me.

“You’re back,” she murmurs, as if afraid I might disappear again.

“Yes,” I reply, still in disbelief. “Thanks to you.”

I take a deep breath and decide to stand up, to take a step forward, to feel the floor beneath my feet again. But as soon as I try to move, my body seems to give way. My legs tremble, weak and unsteady, and the whole world seems to sway around me. Before I can process it, I’m falling forward, my knees giving out beneath me.

Astrid grabs my waist just in time, holding me in her arms. My heart races, not just from the panic of losing my balance. "Hey, take it easy," she says softly, rubbing my back to reassure me. "You have to get used to it again. It’s not easy coming back to normal."

“I didn’t think... walking would be so hard,” I say, trying to laugh but feeling the embarrassment take over. I look at my legs, still trembling slightly, as if they aren’t responding to my commands.

Astrid helps me sit down again, her touch always gentle but firm. “It’s normal, it’ll take time. You have to get used to being alive again,” she says, smiling at me like it's the most natural thing in the world.

Her mother approaches with an understanding expression. “Your body has gone through a shock, Y/n. Even though your soul is back, you have to give your body time to readjust. Move slowly, one step at a time.”

I nod slowly, feeling the weight of those words. Astrid is still beside me, her arm around my waist, ready to support me at any moment.

“I’m here,” she says softly, stroking my face. “I’m not letting go.”

I take a deep breath, and even though my legs are weak, I know that with her by my side, I can do this. I lift my gaze and meet her eyes. "One step at a time," I repeat, squeezing her hand. "Together."

Astrid smiles again, and in that moment, I feel like I can conquer the world.

[lizzy06]

Oikawa Tooru x Reader Fic Recs!! (Tumblr/AO3/Wattpad)

Haikyuu! Fic Rec Masterlist

Aoba Johsai Fic Rec Masterlist

pinch ✨✨by krystallisert (oneshot, soulmate au, fluff, humor) The ringing stops, and you're vaguely aware that you've been hit in the face by a volleyball. In another gym, at another school, a boy winces in sudden, unprovoked pain. "Oi, Oikawa! You're bleeding!"[COMPLETED]

A married life by @creepychan (oneshot, pregnant reader, angst) <I don't wanna spoil this series but its worth it😜😜>

Your Smart Ideas ✨ by @mimi-cee-hq (oneshot, fluff) Oikawa didn’t want you to call his sister Nee-san. So you had a solution.[COMPLETED]

pov:he's a racer and you are his finish line ✨✨💖by @saintobio  (angst, fluff, street racer au, <reader had an abusive relationship with atsumu>)driven by the thrill of illegal street racing, an esteemed racer from Miyagi shows up and makes a tough bet against your toxic boyfriend in exchange for you. [COMPLETED] <this suna fic is connected to this fic as a spin off/ pt.2 kinda thing>

Do You Feel What I Do✨✨ by @seokiloquy (oneshot, soulmate au , fluff)where you feel bursts of pain/emotion from your soulmate. When they both realize they are soulmates (they don’t have to physically be together, it’s when both just know they are), each other’s name gets written on their wrist and the pain/emotion bursts lessen[COMPLETED]

How Do You Say…?  by @seokiloquy (oneshot, childhood freinds to lovers, fluff)[COMPLETED]

Breathe by @t0wnspersonb (oneshot, fluff) As the manager of Aoba Johsai, you take it upon yourself to make sure everyone is taken care of. Which is why you find yourself making sure that a certain captain isn’t pushing himself, especially after a knee injury. It’s not until an incident in the locker room that you begin to realize just how much Oikawa means to you.[COMPLETED]

The Miracle of Childbirth ✨by @oreosmama Yours (oneshot, humor) and Oikawa’s children were the most amazing creatures on Earth… except when they acted like munchkin-sized pain in the asses.[COMPLETED]

 On a Cold Winter’s Night ✨ by @oreosmama (oneshot, slight smut, fluff)Trapped in the university library due to a raging blizzard outside, you are forced to endure the cold night with the man you hate the most: the player who lives in the dorm across from you, Tooru Oikawa. But with tensions and anxieties at an all-time high, you begin to realize your feelings for Oikawa aren’t quite what you thought they were, especially when all he wants to do is keep you warm.[COMPLETED]

  Talking to the Moon ✨by @oreosmama (oneshot, angst with happy ending)After breaking up to go their separate ways after high school, YN and Oikawa struggle to accept the fact that neither is willing to give up their career paths for the other. Instead, they both confide in the moon, wishing that it was their other half. (Based on “Talking to the Moon” by Bruno Mars.)[COMPLETED]

You’re jealous but you can’t do anything because you’re not dating him by @screamin-abt-haikyuu (oneshot, angst to fluff)[COMPLETED]

  Across the Hall by @oreosmama (oneshot, angst with happy ending, slight smut) Across the hall lived Oikawa, a smug womanizer who never knew how to confront his one-night stands after their five minutes of fame. To avoid confrontation, he repeatedly seeks refuge in your apartment, or in his case, in your bed. But what happens when you start to grow feelings for this amorous neighbor of yours?[COMPLETED]

Fake Marks, True Love ✨by @oreosmama (oneshot, angst with happy ending, slight smut) The hickey was fake, but the pain Oikawa felt when he saw it? It was real, and it hurt like a bitch. “Who touched you?”[COMPLETED]

  I Wanna Build a Snowman ✨by @oreosmama (oneshot, fluff) Oikawa just wants to build a snowman on one of the coldest days of the year with his beloved girlfriend. What could go wrong?[COMPLETED]

Warm Embrace by @oreosmama (oneshot, fluff)Naked cuddles with Oikawa need no purpose.[COMPLETED]

Pain Split ✨by kaientai(oneshot, soulmate au)At the same time when Oikawa Tooru presumably fucked up his knee, you, an unsuspecting soccer player, received the injury of a lifetime.[COMPLETED]

Court of Kings by @venusdeus (arranged marriage, royalty au, enemies to lovers) Sent to a neighbouring kingdom to secure an alliance, forced to give up your dreams and ambitions, disregarded as a means to an end. You however have no desire to fulfil their wishes. And neither does Oikawa. [ONGOING] <guys...this fic hasn't been uploaded in a long time but I seriously love it so I am gonna be putting it here>

a love like winter ✓ | friends to lovers, angst by @tooruluv| teaser | pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7 | pt 8 | pt 9 | pt 10 | pt 11 | pt 12 (final) |[COMPLETED]

peppermint ⌲ | roommate au, enemies to lovers, angst, smut edited and rewritten | updates every weekend by @tooruluv |teaser | pt 1 | pt 2 |[COMPLETED]

love, always by @saintobio (heavy angst, past lovers, amnesia) 3 years since the accident and you’ve regained most of your memories back, but there’s still one missing puzzle piece that only your boyfriend’s best friend can complete. the question is, will you let him? [COMPLETED]

da capo✨✨ by krystallisert(soulmate au, unrequited love, pinning)Nothing could've stopped you from falling in love with Oikawa Tooru. Not the neatly drawn mark ever present on his wrist, nor the looks of pity on your best friend's face whenever she catches you staring at the brunet. [COMPLETED]

Rewind (Part I), Rewind (Part II) by @mitsuki-murakami (twoshot, soulmate au, fluff, angst) A Soulmate AU where you will keep looping your life until you meet your soulmate.[COMPLETED]

think of me by @mitsuki-murakami (oneshot, heavy angst)How could you think that this wouldn't hurt me?[COMPLETED]

The Gift of a Greek God by Orphan_account Oikawa Tooru is Eros in all of his glory. Beauty, love, and desire overwhelmingly packed into one being.And you? The human (un)fortunate enough to be raked into one of his deals. [COMPLETED]

but my lungs fell so small by krystallisert (medieval au, enemies to friends to lovers, princess! reader, knight! oikawa)The intricacies of war is something you do not know much of. But still, you’d heard about the unrest to the south, the rumors of dissent and the anti-capitol posters. If you could trace back to the first protest, the first whisper of treason, would you be able to pinpoint the exact moment a war became an inevitability ?The capitol gates come crashing down with an explosion of gunpowder and debris. [ONGOING]

The Underground ✨✨by butterflytint (enemies to friends to lovers) you've always been meticulous, turning to hacking as a simple hobby. Following the death of your brother, you went off the rails in efforts of finding his killers. You're backed into a corner when you're caught hacking the police and government organizations by a charming secret agent/criminal, Tooru Oikawa. You find out it has something to do with your brother and you didn't know him as well as you thought you did. [COMPLETED]

Two Stories💖✨ by deltachye(college au, fluff, angst)your face is in my dreams; but in reality, so far.[COMPLETED]

Splash of Color by RizRice(friends to lovers, starngers to lovers, fluff, slice of life)Routines can get a little boring. As structured as they may be, the world can begin to look black and white. But once a splash of color hits your nose, the routine you once held dear changes.[COMPLETED]

The Popular Guy by crescentsteel (smut, fluff, angst, humor)You only saw him from afar – Oikawa Tooru. He’s just perfect. He’s so kind to his fans, so hardworking, so ambitious. So unreachable. You’re fine with that though. Seeing him around was enough for you. You count yourself lucky that you were able to talk to him one time before graduation. But when university started, he was there waiting for you, and in his hand was the letter you never intended to send.[COMPLETED]

BULLY by neptunecookie (enemies to lovers, angst, smut) when y/n signed up for summer camp, she didn’t expect to be stuck with her high school bully for a month.[COMPLETED]

First Love, Late Spring by miyachondria(oneshot, exes to lovers, post timeskip)Oikawa Tooru’s eyes are still the same shade of honey brown, and you still fall in love the way you used to: hard, plummeting, like a burning comet making its way across the night sky.[COMPLETED]

Perfect (Oikawa x Plain! Reader)✨ by MrsTanaka(oneshot, soulmate au, fluff)Soulmate AU in which you share a talent or talents with your partner.[COMPLETED]

Enough By StilemaWillow (oneshot, soulmate au) You can feel eachother's emotions.[COMPLETED]

I don't like your Shampoo ✨by @hinac0lada (oneshot, soulmate au, humor)[COMPLETED]

good enough ✨by @teamatsumu (oneshot, soulmate au, insecure! reader)[COMPLETED]

Till it Breaks by deltachye (angst, romance)In sickness and in health; ‘till death do us part… Or ‘till his mind broke, leaving you behind with nothing but a shattered heart when he asked quietly, “who are you?” [COMPLETED]

Unspoken by just_j (friends to lovers, fluff, angst, mutual pinning) Oikawa has been in love with you since you became a manager for the university’s volleyball team, but keeps it to himself in fear of what his fan club might do to you if they found out.[COMPLETED]

Breath by visi(fantasy au, enemies to lovers)You think that your escape as a secluded witch in the forest would be much more successful if there wasn't another irritable, attractive inhabitant already.[COMPLETED]

目送 ; five times oikawa didn’t look back and the one time he did by vogonpoetry (oneshot, angst with happy ending, tooth rooting)you spend a lifetime watching him go, sometimes with your stomach tied in knots, sometimes with tears in your eyes, but always with love.[COMPLETED]

Cross the Pacific✨  by @seokiloquy (oneshot, angst, fluff, slight! sugawara)[COMPLETED]

The only stranger in the room✨ by @ugh-tsumu (oneshot, soulmate au) The day you are introduced as the (Aoba Johsai’s) volleyball team’s new manager is also the day you’re supposed to meet your soulmate. Coincidentally, this is also the day Oikawa arrives late.[COMPLETED]

For You, Black Petals  by @seokiloquy (oneshot, hanahaki, angst) It’s alright to love someone who does not love you back, as long as they’re worth you loving them. As long as they deserve it.[COMPLETED]

[bbyobbyo]

You don’t usually wake up at the same time as Jihoon, but he definitely makes sure that you wake up with him everyday.

content: fluff, established relationship, idol!Jihoon x non-idol!reader, domesticity, spotify as a plot point lol

wc: 1.6k

note: inspired by this reddit post which i thought was 100% something jihoon would do especially now that i know he uses spotify lol. i feel like im the only one who finds it hardest to write for their bias, i get really in my head about whether or not im portraying him in the way I want to. i’ve never written idol!au either (bc i think it’s easy to overdo) which only adds to me overthinking ahhhh but hope that you guys enjoy this one !! as always feedback or comments are appreciated 🥰 I read all of them and they make me so happy hehe

[read pt.2 here!]

Jihoon swears there's something magical about waking up to a calm and quiet morning. The sun is barely just rising, blanketing the world in a soft twilight that cuts the dark blues of the waning night. And in his bed, he finds something equally as magical: your soundly sleeping figure next to him. The world is silent except for your steady breaths, and he has to take extra caution to not fall asleep again if just to enjoy the brief moments of tranquility like this during his otherwise busy life. Eventually he gets up to start his schedule for the day, taking one last look at your peaceful slumber in fondness before he closes the door behind him.

Make no mistake, Jihoon loves his job. Having 13 members in his group is fantastic, except when you realize that 13 people requiring styling and wardrobe before every public appearance takes a lot of time. His mornings may start early, but in reality most of his time is spent listening to music in salon chairs and dozing off in waiting rooms.

In fact, it was in the middle of getting his makeup done when he discovered that around 8:20 am every day, his Spotify (which he uses to listen to his daily Bruno Mars Mix playlist) stops playing on his phone and switches to… the speaker at home? He bought a new speaker a few days ago because the last one you had was on its last legs from years of use, but if it’s malfunctioning already then he might have to look into getting a new speaker sooner than he thought.

Upon closer observation, Jihoon also notices that the song has changed — it’s playing one of his songs, your favorite one actually. Immediately he realizes what happened. He contemplates shooting you a text to tell you to disconnect him and just sync your own Spotify account to the speaker, you’re home more often than him anyway. That thought quickly disappears, however, as he imagines you getting ready for work listening to the sound of his voice and genuinely enjoying the music that he pours his heart and soul into, he can’t bring himself to disturb you even for a moment. His eyes soften as he stares blankly at the Spotify home screen, headphones now deafeningly silent. Surely, Jihoon decides, he can live without his Bruno Mars Mix for just a while longer.

-

You sometimes wonder if your boyfriend is magic. Although a good morning text has been standard in your relationship since the beginning, it's starting to concern you how perfectly timed it is.

Normally, your morning routine is simple. Wake up. Get out of bed. Bump some tunes. Check your notifications. Brush teeth. Wash face. Get dressed. Pack bag. Leave the house.

You’re usually the one to text him good morning given your later wake up time, yet he’s been beating you to it lately. Yes, he knows you set your alarm 8:15 everyday because it's “the perfect amount of time you need to get ready and still make it to work on the dot”. But that doesn't explain why “rise n shine babe :))” pops up on your phone as you brush your teeth on the days you wake up early, too.

[8:06 am] you have to tell me how you do it

[8:06 am] Do what????

[8:07 am] im onto you mister 👁👄👁

[8:07 am] 👍👍👍

You spiral through the possible scenarios in your head: he has your location, but that wouldn’t tell him when you woke up right? Does your icon move around on the map? No, the location data isn’t that accurate. Maybe when you open your phone, your Facebook status shows that you’re online? No, you know for a fact that you both haven’t opened that app in years. Hmm, did he plant cameras everywhere in the apartment? Sure, you get the security utility of it but if he did it without telling you, there would be some SERIOUS things to talk about, maybe it really is all just guesswork and coincidence?

Sigh… you’ll get to the bottom of this eventually.

-

Jihoon doesn’t plan on telling you, but rather wants you to figure it out yourself. After all, he’s been dropping so many hints already. Your chill hangouts at his studio have a gentle hum of your favorite songs as background noise. He purposely asks you about the new albums of your favorite artists that, surprise, he’s already listened to. He even makes it a point to remind you that the speaker at home is hooked to his account every now and then.

Sometimes, he swears that you’ve figured it out and were just messing with him when you make little comments about your his song choices like “Really babe, you listen to your own songs this often? Are you sure you’re not a narcissist or something?” But besides these moments, there was no indication that you knew about his secret morning routine as you questioned him regularly about his tactics.

He has to admit, it was kind of amusing to see you growing increasingly suspicious of how on earth he figures out when you wake up, being particularly fond of the cute annoyed face you make when he tells you “No babe, I did not put an Air Tag in your pajamas, you barely sleep in clothes anyway.” Even your pout is adorable as you pretend to give him the silent treatment, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long. His little secret is safe for another day.

-

Jihoon has been working brutal hours lately. As deadlines for the upcoming albums drew near, his days start earlier than ever and end equally as late. However, the one thing he can always count on is coming home to you waiting for him.

It was the night of the new album release and you were more excited than usual, greeting him at the door like a lovesick puppy as soon as you heard the door handle turning. “Hi love, what are you doing up so late?” he pulls you into a quick kiss as he sets his stuff down.

“I wanted to wait to listen to the new album with you so you could see my reaction to it!” your eyes were beaming with enthusiasm. Jihoon’s heart swells at the sentiment, knowing that his partner supports him and his passions with such sincerity. You excitedly motion him to join you in your shared bedroom, full of anticipation to hear the fruits of your boyfriend’s labor for the past months. “Alright, you’re not allowed to be disappointed then” he jokes as he pulls out his phone, quickly finding the recently released album and making sure the volume is high enough before tapping the first track and handing it over to you.

Only a few seconds of the song passes before an idea flashes across your eyes. “Wait, let’s play it on the speaker!” you interrupt. You’re on your feet in seconds and before Jihoon could even reach over to press pause, you’ve already commanded your home speaker to play the track out loud. The music immediately ceases on his phone and switches over to the speaker.

Shit, he’s done for, he thinks to himself. He studies your face carefully for any indication that he’s been found out but surprisingly, your attention is laser focused on the melodies now reverberating around your apartment. You’re mostly quiet during the songs but the rhythmic nodding of your head and facial expressions are a tell all of how much you enjoy each track that plays, contorting in a myriad of impressed shapes as killing part after killing part reaches your ears.

As the album comes to an end you look like you’re about to burst at the seams. Your boyfriend can’t control his smile as compliments and detailed thoughts flow freely from your lips for the rest of the night, not ceasing even as the both of you walk through your unwinding routines together. God, you love comeback days. The elaborate music show stages that you will undoubtedly watch later that evening has already been pre-recorded, giving you precious time together in the morning before his schedule whisks him away from your arms once again.

As you get ready for bed, you drift off to sleep knowing that tomorrow, for the first time in what seems like forever, you can finally tell him good morning in person before he can.

-

Your alarm rings at 8:15 am. Jihoon doesn’t need to be up this early, but he would do anything in order to be the first thing you see when you wake. You roll around in his embrace and press a kiss to his cheek. “Good morning” you both whisper to each other at the same time, sending you both into a fit of giggles as you argue who said it first.

Jihoon watches in adoration from the bed as you so naturally go through your morning routine, one that he misses out on more often than he would like. Today, you forgo your usual morning songs as you queue up your personal favorites off the new album, much to his delight. He tries his best to burn this scene into his memory as you gather your things and prepare to head out, giving him one last kiss. You’re about to unlock the door when you pause in your tracks.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” he hums back from the bedroom.

“Enjoy the speaker, I can’t kick you off today.” you say with a smirk on your face as you exit the apartment, leaving Jihoon speechless.

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Jennifer Jareau x Reader Headcanons

Mostly SFW, but a few lil spicy ones throughout.

Eidetic memory for one thing and one thing only: everything you've ever said ever

Like, one single time you mentioned that Reese's taste better from the fridge and now there's always a pack in there for you

You catch her checking you out all the time

At first she’d get all flustered but now she just kind of shrugs and says, “I’m allowed to look at what’s mine”

Loves giving you forehead kisses <3

Often won't leave the house at all on her days off, would much rather order takeout and spend all day snuggling with you (among other things)

Immediately puts on sweatpants when she gets home from work

Loves to take you out on a fancy date (or vice versa) and get dressed up. She absolutely drools over you in a suit or a dress

A bi queen, whether you lean more masculine or feminine or both, she’s obsessed

Had a hard time letting you take care of her/receiving love and affection (emotionally not sexually) at first, but is getting better and better about it

Loyal to a fault, would catch a grenade for you (a la Bruno Mars) without a second thought

Will love you forever if you get her a peppermint mocha (but not from Starbucks, obvs, because of g*nocide)

She always gets whipped cream on her upper lip and it’s very, very cute

If she’s off work, you will be having morning sex. There is nothing she likes more than waking up slow and taking her time with you

Secretly really into books like A Court of Thorns and Roses but she’s embarrassed about it so she always reads either on a Kindle or at home so no one can see the cover

Her favorite flowers are tulips and you send her some at work at least once a month

Incredibly direct, there is no beating around the bush

When she asked you out she was so blunt you just kind of floundered for a minute

Wildly jealous, like Gone Girl levels of jealous

At first it drives you kind of crazy but then you realize that she’s just scared you’ll leave her (insane), so you do your best to remind her often that you're hers and only hers

Tells you that you feel like home

Her job is so serious, she loves that she can come home to you and you make her laugh

Loves to be the big spoon, anchors you to her so hard that your limbs fall asleep

Always, always kisses you good morning

After a long day at work or a hard case, she’ll want to hug you forever

Gets butterflies when you give her a shoulder massage

Her pet name for you is "beautiful." As in Hey, beautiful. Good morning, beautiful. I love you, beautiful. <3

[lueurjun]

enemies to lovers with soobin.

soobin x reader! in which a single misunderstanding sparks years full of dislike on both ends—or so you assume. enemies to lovers but it’s mainly idiots to lovers really. soobin x reader. i am literally starting to run out of ideas and it’s now 7 am and i haven’t slept but we move — pls cut me some slack if this one is bad. i am in the trenches rn. it’s also really long, i got carried away … my bad

reading the title probably made you giggle

because how on earth could anyone have beef with choi soobin?

the 6ft tall human embodiment of the word cosy

well, the thing is, you don’t actually hate soobin

it’s okay to admit it if you do, it’s not like imma jump you or anything hehe 🔪😐

for legal reasons that was a joke

so now you’re probably all like ‘but soobin would never hate me! he’s too soobin to hate anyone’

and you’d be correct because he actually doesn’t hate you

id jump him too. let that lanky mf admit he hates you and watch how fast i gather the crew ( my crew is the ninja turtles )

somehow, the two of you started this whole fiasco of believing that you hated each other

this dated back to when the two of you were starting high school and ended up falling in with the same group of friends

everything was fine at first and there was no beef with you and soobin

until one fateful evening when the group decided to hang out at the park

squad goals if you ask me. friends that go down the slide together, stay together trust me 🤞

everything had been running smoothly

aside from the fact that beomgyu almost got stuck inside a swing

after his panic attack and yeonjun had stocked up his camera roll with videos of the incident, beomgyu managed to be freed

thank you to taehyun who managed to yank him out

lord and saviour taehyun. saving beomgyu’s since he was in nappies 💪

after the whole ordeal, you sat next to soobin to gossip about how idiotic your friends are

and neither of you had realized just how close you were sitting

until one of your friends so generously pointed it out

fucking little tell tale RAT

which of course sent the rest of the group into a spiral of hoots and hollers

that then lead to the shipping and ‘oh you guys would be so cute together!’ comments

and they wouldn’t be wrong because you and soobin were actually a lot alike

the two of you shared common interests and could talk for hours about nothing

he was easy to talk to and that’s one of the things you liked about him

so, perhaps you didn’t mind the comments

oooooh not you crushinnnnn 😏 y/n and soobin kissin in a tree- sorry

in contrast, soobin’s expression was far from pleased as his gaze flickered from the group to taehyun and then to you, who stood with your eyes focused on the ground sheepishly

“what? i don’t like them. like at all. we’d be hideous together.”

record scratch. moment ruined

of course, he hadn’t meant for it to sound so harsh

and he felt exceptionally bad when he saw your face fall

making matters worse, your friends quickly fell into an uncomfortable silence, the tension in the air so thick you could practically feel it

oh well done! gone and made it all awkward now

from then on, you kept your distance from him

you were hurt by how disgusted he seemed at the idea of dating you

i would literally die for you. bruno mars would catch a grenade for you? jump in front of a train? nah bitch. i’d let a thousand bullets shoot me just because you you asked me to. i’d even step on lego for you-BEAT THAT SOOBIN #imromantic #imbetterthanhim

of course, you didn’t hate him

you could never hate him because he’s damn near impossible to hate

but soobin was unaware, believing his comment had shifted your opinion of him

he wanted to apologize, but you made effort to avoid him at all costs

so, he gave up and just decided to let it be because he wasn’t going to harass you into accepting an apology

which meant he also started avoiding you

so naturally, you assumed he now hated you

both of you jumping to conclusions higher than fuckin snoop dogg at this point-

whenever the friend group would hang out, the two of you would keep your distance

if someone made a comment about said distance, the pair of you just shrugged it off and changed conversation

you kind of just started to co exist

and this went on for quite some time and by some time i mean… the rest of high school

it wasn’t until you were a year into college did the misunderstanding finally get revealed

yeonjun had arranged for a mini reunion since you all hadn’t had much time to hang out in your separate lives

sure, you saw each other a lot but it wasn’t nearly as frequent and the groupchat had kind of died down

the meeting spot just so happens to be the same park where soobin crushed your soul that night

and for a moment, you considered not going

ha pussayy……..i am so sorry

but something deep inside tugged at your heart, and a gentle whisper echoed in your mind, encouraging you to go

so you did

the catchup was nice, and the group reminisced on high school memories

one of them being when beomgyu got stuck in the swing

and that topic opened up a can of worms

“wasn’t that the night that y/n started despising soobin?”

kai had bluntly pointed out, laughing along with everyone else

except, you weren’t laughing

them: 🤣 you: 😐

“despising soobin? i never despised soobin?”

everyone looked at you as though you had grown three heads

because what? what do you mean you never despised him?

“yes you did? when he made that comment about the pair of you being hideous together? you two stopped talking after that…”

after taehyun’s statement, you turned to soobin who looked just as confused as everyone else

“i didn’t hate soobin… soobin hated me?”

you had never seen anyone laugh as hard as the boys in that moment

kai was almost purple

not him almost cosplaying violet beauregarde from charlie and the chocolate factory

with all of them unable to breathe from laughing so much, you prodded soobin for an explanation

“well… after i made that comment, you kinda stopped talking to me and when i was going to apologize, you avoided me so i assumed you hated me and thought it was best to leave you alone…”

oh.

okay.

so you spent your last moments in high school believing that he disliked you

and he didn’t?

mhm. that’s fine. okay. yeah.

beomgyu, who was finally calm enough to speak, pointed between you

“wait… so… you didn’t hate him?”

and you shook your head

“i was hurt at first and needed some time but i didn’t hate him? i could never. it was quite the opposite really”

yeonjun let out a low whistle.

“perhaps we should leave you guys to talk this out.”

beomgyu gasped. “no? absolutely not! it’s just getting good.”

someone get beomgyu some popcorn

he was hastily yanked away with the group, leaving you and soobin alone in the spot where the miscommunication first took place

you could still hear beomgyu’s cries of protest in the distance

it was silent between the two of you for a brief moment

neither of you really knew how to start

until finally, the curiosity overwhelmed you and the silence was broken

me and the silence are the same fr 😔

“why was the idea of dating me so repulsive to you?”

soobin was stunned by the bluntness of your question, his face conveying surprise.

“i-i really wasn’t.”

“then why did you act so disgusted?”

grill him bae! like he’s a steak! grill him!

soobin looks perplexed for a moment and then his phone dings

you almost can’t believe the audacity of this man as he pulls out his phone to check the text

and then, his shoulders slump and he slides the phone over to you which displays a notification from taehyun

‘tell them the truth, i don’t mind.’

huh?

“taehyun had a crush on you back then… he had confided in me and i didn’t want to upset him…”

taehyun had a crush on you?

not you collecting txt like infinity stones

your head was starting to pound

“why didn’t he ever tell me?”

soobin shrugged. “i think it was just a passing crush. he started liking someone else a couple months later.”

thinking back, there was a period of time where taehyun had acted different towards you

you had noticed his lingering gazes and ignored them, chalking them up as nothing significant

and suddenly, his silence during the teasing made a lot of sense

“so… you weren’t repulsed by me?”

soobin shook his head, now looking rather shy

“it was quite the opposite. i’ve always found you quite spectacular.”

spectacular 🤓

“i’m really sorry for avoiding you.”

“me too, and im especially sorry for acting repulsed by you… though if you’d let me, i’d love to make it up to you?”

soobin was timid, his shoulders hunching as the words nervously slipped out of his mouth

you cheeks burned, but you tried to rein in your hopefulness, the last thing you needed was another miscommunication

“how would you do that?”

“well, i’d love to take you on a date if you’d let me… and then many more after that if you’ll have me.”

his question strikes a chord deep within you, instantly soothing away the torment of the past and restoring a spirit of hope that maybe you could be something more

in that moment, the october breeze felt like a scorching wave of lava, scorching your skin

“i think i’d really like that.”

[rubyreduji]

timeless — ljh

summary: you’ve just met jihoon, yet something about him feels familiar

tags: fluff, romance, reincarnation?, gn!reader warnings: arranged marriages, mentions of death and war  reader notes: no pronouns or explicit gender descriptions but they do take a more feminine role in history, jihoon picks up the reader but my mans is strong okay don’t worry wc: 10.3k an: i’ve been writing this for over a month now fjdskla and i like the finished product but im a bit worried the format is choppy but either way please enjoy and show it lots of love...also happy first fic of the 2nd year of rubyreduji!!!

“Soonyoung, stop it!” You scold your best friend as he giggles at you.

“Just go talk to him!” Soonyoung tells you, pushing you towards the door to the antique shop next to your favorite boba place. 

Him refers to the cute cashier you always see through the windows when you and Soonyoung go and get boba (which is about three times a week). It’s nothing more than a hallway crush but Soonyoung keeps insisting that it could be more than that if you would just go talk to him. 

You don’t actually want to talk to the boy who stands at the counter with a smile, but before you can stop him Soonyoung is opening the door to the store and forcing you inside. When you turn around to chew your best friend out, you find him not there, his back already retreating to the boba shop. 

A part of you wants to just dash back out the door but the bell attached to the door has already gotten the attention of the cashier and you can’t escape now.

“Welcome to The Eternity Emorpium, today anything marked with a green sticker is 20% off.” The voice isn’t what you expected Cute Cashier to sound like but when you turn around to face him, you realize you’re not talking to Cute Cashier at all.

Rather than the tall boy with glasses you’ve been peeking in on for the past few months, you come face to face with a short yet buff boy with long black hair. He most definitely is not the guy you came in for, but you have to admit he is just as (if not more) cute than the other cashier.

You’re not sure how you didn’t notice that your normal Cute Cashier wasn't behind the counter, but in your defense you were too busy fighting off Soonyoung.

You give the new cashier—who you have now dubbed Even Cuter Cashier—a smile, before pretending to look at all of the memorabilia set out. The actual shop is nice with an obvious theme and specific layout that only someone with an eye for aesthetic and organization could create. On the speakers a Bruno Mars song is playing and you wonder if it's the cashier who has control over the music or just a general store playlist.

You feel awkward walking around the shop, letting out fake hums every once in a while to make it seem like you're actually shopping and not just sneaking glances at Even Cuter Cashier whenever you can. You stop in front of a playing card deck and you pick it up, flipping it over in your hand a couple of times.

"Oh, we just got those in," Even Cuter Cashier says, startling you a bit. "Put them on the floor this morning. You into cards?"

"Oh, uh," Shit. This is your chance to talk to him, "yeah. My dad is more of a collector than I am, but I can see the appeal."

"Nice. Yeah I'm more of a guitar collector myself, but my wallet wishes I wasn't," he says and you both laugh.

"That's cool though. I would love to learn how to play an instrument but I definitely don't have the talent or patience for that." As you speak with the man you slowly start to drift towards the counter.

"Hey, anyone can be talented, it just takes practice." You quickly glance down at Even Cuter Cashier's name tag to see his actual name is Jihoon.

"Good inspirational quote, but I think I'll just stick to the playing cards," you tell him with a grin as you set the pack down in front of him.

Jihoon just pushes the cards back to you and when you give him a questioning look he just grins. "They’re on the house.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that,” you tell him.

“I wanted to,” he says. “Maybe it’s just my plan to get you to come in here again.”

You smile at Jihoon, your face starting to turn a bit hot. You pick up the pack of cards and bid goodbye to the cashier before turning and leaving. Soonyoung is standing outside the door with two boba cups in hand. He peeks in when you open the door and frowns.

“That’s not Cute Cashier.”

“Nope! That’s Even Cuter Cashier,” you tell your best friend.

“You’re abandoning the other guy already?”

“I can’t abandon someone I don’t even know,” you scoff, “and anyway, I think I like Even Cuter Cashier. Something about him…it feels like destiny.”

Soonyoung laughs at you, but you ignore him, your mind still lingering on the dark haired boy from earlier. The more you think about him, the more your heart starts to grow warm. You can’t place it, but something about Jihoon feels familiar, and you need more.

1500s

“You are to be married to Prince Wonwoo before the solstice hits.”

Your head shoots up, staring at your father, not sure if you hear his words correctly. There’s no possible way he said that. You can think of a dozen reasons why that’s impossible, a few including: 1. You’ve never met Prince Wonwoo in your life, why would he want you as his betrothed? 2. You two did not have a courtship and it would be a scandal for you two to get married without presenting as a couple to the public first. 3. Your family is not nearly important enough to be noticed by royalty. 4. (And this is the biggest one) You are in love with someone else.

Well, your father doesn’t know that you’re in love with someone else, but it’s still an important fact to note.

Despite all of these reasons, your father continues to talk about the arrangement, not noticing the shock on your face. You wonder about how it came to be, and without you hearing even a whisper about it.

“You will be meeting with a royal advisor in two days, please do not cause any trouble.” With that your father walks ways, leaving you with a million questions brewing your mind.

The main one being: how are you going to tell Jihoon about this?

For over a year now you’ve been seeing the same man, sneaking out whenever you can to meet him. He came into town with a bang (quite literally — his caravan practically falling apart with all of his belongings crashing to the ground as it did) and you’ve been captivated by him since. 

Your days are never boring when Jihoon is around, the two of you either going on adventures or hanging out in Jihoon’s (new) caravan. Though, you think your most favorite times spent with Jihoon are late at night, when you two meet up on the outskirts of your estate grounds, right on the edge of the forest.

There never is any guessing as to what Jihoon has planned. Some days you two walk around the garden under the moonlight, talking and gazing up at the stars, while other nights you’re whisked off to another town to dance the night away in a hidden tavern. You love the guise of the night, being able to do whatever and be whoever without the fear of onlookers and their judgment. It’s just you and Jihoon in your own little world.

Maybe that’s why you’ve been keeping him a secret for so long, you like keeping him all to yourself. No one can taint your relationship if they don't know about it. Though you suppose that has backfired on you now.

You don’t see your father for the rest of the night and when the sunsets and you slip out the back door and walk down to the forest edge, you do it with a heavy heart. As always Jihoon is standing next to the tree he carved your initials in, a wide grin on his face and a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

As soon as he spots you approaching his face lights up in a grin. He trots up to you the rest of the way, scooping you up into a hug.

"I've missed you," he says, pressing kisses to your lips and cheeks. You giggle at his antics.

"You saw me two days ago, my dear."

"Oh but that's two days too long for an aching heart in love." 

Other people may think it's cheesy but you can't help but adore the sweet way Jihoon talks to you, always putting his poet background to good use. You smile as Jihoon holds you in his arms, but soon the good mood is ruined by the news you remember you have to break to him.

"What's wrong, my love?" Jihoon asks, seeing the fallen look on your face. He reaches up and pushes your hair out of your face, a habit he has picked up since you two met. 

You just sigh and shift so you're out of Jihoon's embrace. Automatically you miss his strong arms around your waist, but you can't bear to look at him as you talk.

“My father has given me away to another man,” you tell him in a hushed voice. 

“Who?” Jihoon responds automatically. “I won’t let him take you. I-I’ll fight.”

You finally turn towards Jihoon, the solemn look still firm on your face. “I’m betrothed to Prince Wonwoo.”

“Prince Wonwoo?!” Jihoon looks taken aback. You don’t blame him. Suddenly he deflates. “How am I going to beat that?”

You’re not sure how to respond. The truth is Jihoon can’t compete. That doesn’t mean you’re going to give up hope on him, though.

“We’ll…we’ll figure something out,” you finally say. You step closer to Jihoon, allowing him to wrap you up in his embrace once again.

“I’m not giving up on us,” Jihoon tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“We’ll be fine. We have to be.”

When your father told you you’d be meeting with a royal advisor, this isn’t exactly what you were expecting.

When you arrived at the castle you were amazed at the size of it, but you weren’t allowed to gawk for long, being ushered into a sitting room where two men were already conversing. Neither were your soon to be husband though and you wondered when you might actually get to meet the prince.

The two men soon introduced themselves as Soonyoung and Mingyu, two of Prince Wonwoo’s most trusted men. Now two hours later, you’re starting to question the judgment of your betrothed.

Not only are the men completely scatterbrained and disorganized, they also seem to bicker more often than not, making it difficult for you to understand everything they’re telling you. The only thing you really comprehend is that you’re going to be spending a lot more time with the two men up until the wedding.

You’re given a schedule at the end of the day, your upcoming weeks all planned out for you already. Meeting with wedding coordinators, royalty training, garment fittings, and everything else of the like. You frown, thinking about your normally free schedule has now been filled.

Luckily for you, the meeting finished earlier than expected and you don’t hesitate to direct yourself towards the area where Jihoon’s caravan resides. Your lover is delighted to see you but before he can get any words out you’re throwing yourself at him, pulling him into a kiss. You’re desperate to drown in Jihoon and forget reality even just for a moment.

It isn’t until later that you and Jihoon finally exchange words. 

“I can hear you thinking,” Jihoon says. You two lay next to each other on his bed, bare bodies pressed together under the linens. Your head rests on his chest and his hands card through your hair. “Was I not satisfactory in taking your thoughts away? What is troubling your mind so much?

“Prince Wonwoo.”

“You’re thinking about Prince Wonwoo after laying so intimately with me?”

“No! Well yes, but- I- shut up,” you grumble, smacking Jihoon’s chest, making his laugh.

You’ve never met the prince before, though you are well knowledged on him. It’s hard not to be when he is to take over the crown in a few years. You try not to think about how that will make you the queen consort.

You’ve only seen Prince Wonwoo in person a handful of times, none too recently, but you still know the prince is very handsome. Not as handsome as you find Jihoon, though you may be a bit biased. He’s also said to be kind, smart, level-headed, and well calculated. You suppose it could be worse. 

“I met with his advisors today,” you tell Jihoon. “I guess it’s just all hitting me. This really is going to happen.”

“Hey, listen to me,” Jihoon moves so he can stare at you in the face, “no matter what happens, I will always love you. My heart is still yours.”

“And mine yours,” you tell him softly. “I love you Lee Jihoon. Never forget that.”

You don’t see Jihoon for a while. Your schedule is packed with futile meetings that take up your day and with the news of your engagement to the prince (who you have still yet to meet), there are guards outside of your estate at night.

You suppose you are fortunate that Mingyu and Soonyoung have grown on you in the past few weeks. Though you still think them foolish, you also have a fondness for the pair. You see why Prince Wonwoo puts his trust in them. You find yourself wanting to confide in them, though there is one thing that still remains a secret.

It isn’t until the night before your wedding that you see your love. You are able to lose your guards for a second and you make a beeline straight to Jihoon’s caravan. He’s still awake, sitting outside and staring up at the starry sky when you approach.

“My dear,” you call out to him. Jihoon looks away from the sky to meet your face, a look of surprise flashes over his face before they form into a soft smile.

“You know you really shouldn’t be out so late at night, it is not safe.”

“Well then, why don’t you help me find some shelter kind sir,” you tell him. Jihoon just grins and grabs your hand, pulling you into his home. 

You two spent the night wrapped up in each other, exchanging soft kisses and even softer words. When the morning comes Jihoon is still asleep when you awake and while you’d love to give him a proper goodbye, you know you already pushed your luck enough spending the whole night out.

You quickly find a quill and some ink and you grab a piece of Jihoon’s writing parchment and scribble a quick note to him before slipping out the door. It’s only after the caravan is out of sight that you let your tears fall.

The first time you meet Prince Wonwoo is at the altar. Up close he’s even more handsome than you imagined, with soft facial features and kind eyes. You can’t help but still feel a bit disappointed, staring at the stranger in front of you as you recite your wedding vows.

The chapel where you are being wed is packed full of people, mostly nobility. Your attire is suffocating, despite being fitted for it thrice. Across from you, the prince keeps a neutral face and you wonder about his own involvement in this arrangement. 

He’s dressed in a formal outfit fit for royalty. The colors pair with your own dressings and you wonder what you two look like from the outfit. A newly bonded couple who will eventually be ruling the whole country. Are you two a handsome, strong presenting couple? Or do you two look like two fools who have never met before?

You were surprised at the way the public took the news of the engagement. You were expecting backlash against the prince, but he is well loved by the public and they were all happy to see the young man finding a partner to settle down with before stepping up to the throne. Despite never having been seen together in public before today, there was a wide talk of your (fake) courtship and how you must be very lucky to have the prince hold your heart.

If only they knew that a lonely, penniless poet was the real caretaker of your love.

It isn’t until the words leave the officiant’s mouth that you realize you will have to kiss the prince. Not only to end the ceremony but for the public to see you two unite as one. You must look as taken aback as you feel because your now husband takes the initiative, stepping forward to close the distance between you two.

Wonwoo cups your face gingerly, his hands are cold and his fingers are boney. He stares at you for a moment, dark eyes gazing into your soul, before he finally leans in.

The moment his lips press against yours you want to jerk out of his hold. It feels wrong. Your lips don’t fit together nicely and there’s no warmth exchanged between you two. You’re both stiff and you note how Wonwoo’s lips aren't as full as Jihoon’s. 

The kiss is over within seconds but the damage has been done and you can’t shake the dirty feeling that has grown under your skin. Wonwoo’s hand slides down your arm to clasp your fingers together. Another sign of unity for the public. You force a smile on your face, but the only thing you can think about is how your heart is miles away, in a small caravan on the edge of town.

My love,

I am not sure how you were able to convince the prince’s closest man to be a part of this, but I cannot say am I ungrateful for him. Though I do find him quite eccentric (and slightly obnoxious) I must give him my gratitude.

I miss you tremendously, but the past few letters you have sent me have been acting as bandages over my heart. I read them whenever I feel an ache of your absence, which is quite often.

It is unfortunate you find royal life boring. If I could, you know that I would sweep you off to the farthest lands where we would explore the area during the day and revel at night. I would show you the large world out there and we could experience new joys together. 

How I long to have you lay by my side at night. To feel your soft, tender skin against my fingertips. It pains me to even think about it, but it would kill me not to. 

I will never stop fighting for us.

Write back soon,

Your Jihoon

My darling,

I saw you today. I was taken quite off guard when I saw you riding in the carriage, next to Prince Wonwoo. I admit, you two make a handsome couple, but not more handsome than us.

It’s been so long since I’ve seen your beautiful face in person, that even seeing you with another man made my heart sing. I couldn’t pull my eyes from you, doing my best to soak in the sight of you because you were once again gone.

You looked quite winsome sitting in the carriage, but you did not look like you. Are you required to wear such extremities every day, or were you dressed for the occasion? Either way I cannot imagine the process of getting ready to be a swift one. 

If I am being honest I do not find the purpose of such efforts. Does the prince not find your natural beauty fit to his standards? If so then off with him. Any person with eyes would be fortunate to gaze upon you. I know I was.

Seeing you has only made me yearn more for you. I know it has only been a few weeks since your matrimony to Prince Wonwoo, but to me it has been lifetimes. How I crave to feel your touch, to hear your voice, to kiss your lips.

I know that the idea is futile but I will never give up on you. No matter what, I am still yours. And I hope you are still mine. Even if I only see a glimpse of you once every decade, my heart will still burn for you.

Forever yours,

Your Jihoon

To my heart,

Though you are always in my thoughts, you have been overtaking my mind more often than not lately. Please do not think I am upset about this, it is quite the opposite, but I am afraid I have been missing you a great deal more than usual.

Maybe it is due to a conversation I had the other day. I was at a tavern, catching up with an old acquaintance who was in town, and you came up. Jeonghan questioned if there was a reason why I had settled here and wondered if it was ‘due to my heart’. I laughed and confirmed his suspicions.

We spent a deal of time after that talking about you. It felt liberating being able to speak of you to someone else. I must have rambled on for at least an hour before Jeonghan finally cut me off, telling me how lucky I must be to have someone like you in my life. I had no choice other than to agree with him.

Speaking about you and thinking about you has thrown me into a tumultuous frame of mind. It is quite shameful how often I get lost in fantasies of us and what I wish we could be. You have overtaken my mind, body, and soul. There is not a single night where I do not dream of you.

I hope our future king can see how fortunate he is to be married to you. I would kill thousands of men to be in his position. Your smile itself is worth more than every jewel on his crown. I know I am just waxing poetic at you, but that is my job.

I know we must stay apart, but please mourn the future we could have had for me. Please write back to me with every thought you have about our imaginary future, because even if I cannot have the real thing, my dreams will be enough for me.

Dream of me as well,

Your Jihoon 

The life between you and your husband is…comfortable. You two talk, but not often and seldom about anything that is not shallow or mundane. You two sleep side by side at night but the last time you two touched each other was when you danced at your wedding and while his days are spent in meeting, yours are spent wandering the castle grounds and having tea with Soonyoung and Mingyu.

The only thing you find yourself looking forward to in your days anymore is the nightly lettering that you receive from Jihoon. It was only a week into the marriage when Soonyoung noticed how miserable you were. Without being able to hold it in anymore, you told the man about your lover and your heartbreak. It was then that Soonyoung suggested he help you out, acting as a carriage pigeon to deliver letters to and from Jihoon.

One night you are sitting at the desk in your shared chambers with Wonwoo, writing your letter for Jihoon, when Wonwoo speaks up. He is sitting on the bed across the room and his deep voice startles you, not used to talking to the man like this.

“Are you happy?” Wonwoo asks you bluntly, after calling out your name. You take only a moment to form an answer.

“I am content, my lord,” you tell him. Though you have stopped referring to the man as “Prince Wonwoo” in your mind, you cannot help but tack on the formal titles at the end of your sentences to the man.

“But you are not happy. Why?”

“Rest assured your highness, it is nothing you’ve done.”

“Does it have anything to do with the letters Soonyoung delivers to you each evening? The letters you are writing back right now?” You freeze in your seat. You were unaware he knew, but the prince is not ignorant. You suppose you couldn’t keep it a secret forever.

“I-”

“Do not mistake my curiosity for accusation. I’m aware this arrangement is not an ideal situation, and I would not be upset if there was another. I would not even be upset if you wish to be with him,” Wonwoo says. 

His words trouble you. There is a benefit for both of you in the marriage, but his words imply he is not exactly happy with the arrangement either. The offer to let you leave him is strange though, and causes you to fault for a moment.

“I am not going to abandon you, sire,” you eventually respond. “I have made an obligation to you.”

“No, your father did. Though we are not well acquainted I still hold empathy and I do not want to be what is keeping you from your happiness. From your happy ending.”

“Either way my father’s word is say, so I will do what he asks of me. It is an honor to be wedded to a man of your status,” you tell him, trying to convince yourself more than anything.

“But that is all it is: status. What about love?”

You don’t answer. You sit there and stare down at the letter you are writing to Jihoon. You think about the wooden box hidden in the drawer that holds his letters.

“Please, I do not wish to cause you turmoil. If you want to go, I will not hold you back,” Wonwoo says. 

You finally turn to look at your husband. “You are very kind-hearted, but I cannot accept that offer. I will not tarnish your reputation like that. Do you know the talk that would rise if they heard the soon-to-be king’s spouse up and left? What would your father do to mine? It is too risky.”

Wonwoo has a morose look on his face, like he knows you’re right. “Tell me about him,” he says, surprising you.

You hesitate. You should not talk of your lover to your husband. It is unorthodox and unbecoming. You look at Wonwoo’s curious face though, and you can’t help yourself.

“He’s a poet. I’ve never met someone who can use words the way he does. Even in things as simple as short letters or passing comments, he can make it sound like the most romantic sentence ever uttered,” you tell Wonwoo.

“Tell me more.”

“He has a kind soul, like you. He’s very exciting to be around. He used to travel the world, so I love to hear him regale the tales of his adventures. He likes to take me on our own little adventures as well. One time a traveling show came through a neighboring town and he got us tickets to go watch.”

“You love him greatly.” It is not a question. You just nod to Wonwoo. “You light up when you speak of him. In a way I’ve never seen before.”

You don’t know what to say to him, so you turn your back to him once more, resuming your letter to Jihoon.

You love Jihoon, everyday apart from him feels like you’re struggling to breathe, and under any other circumstance you wouldn’t have stopped at anything to be with him, but you are not under those circumstances. You fought your father, refusing the marriage, even telling him you loved someone else, but he did not listen. He told you this was the one thing he would put his foot down on.

You can’t blame him, how often does someone get the chance to marry a prince. The things this marriage is doing for your family is immeasurable and you cannot in good conscience leave them without a second thought. Not to mention the damage it would do to your family’s reputation, let alone Wonwoo’s. Your family would be shunned by the public and Wonwoo would be labeled a joke of a king.

Not to mention if it was ever discovered what really happened. What would happen if everyone found out why you left? You and Jihoon would surely be ostracized. Town piranhas in even towns in other kingdoms. Jihoon’s career as a poet would be over. You can’t imagine that being a happy life.

Not that you’re particularly happy right now either. You wish you didn’t overthink everything, or else you would have left the town even before you got married. You and Jihoon could be living in his caravan, just you two alone, safe and sound and happy.

It is too late for that though, and now you have to pay the consequences. Married to a man you know nothing about. A man who seems to be rooting for you despite the outcome. It makes you frown. Maybe your first step in figuring it all out is figuring out your husband first.

“Have you ever been in love, my lord?” You decide to ask Wonwoo one day while walking the castle’s grounds. As of recently you two have gotten closer, an interesting bond forming between you two, though most of your time is spent talking of Jihoon. Wonwoo never draws back on his suggestions that you follow your heart. 

“Not in the way you are. I was very fond of someone a long time ago, but they loved someone else.” You frown at this news. 

“Please excuse the crudeness of my words, sire, but then why do you put so much mind into my love? Do you not wish to be wed to someone?”

“I do,” Wonwoo answers after a moment of contemplation, “but I do not want to be the reason why true love is separated. You and your Jihoon, you are a story of fate. Who am I to get in the middle of it? The public likes me enough, I will be okay. No matter what, I will be okay, but will you?”

Your heart aches and yearns for Jihoon, and your husband is not making it easier. That may have been his goal though.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” You ask Wonwoo. You frown as you stand in front of him, your stomach in knots of worry.

Wonwoo just gives you a soft smile. “I am sure. If anything, I should be worrying about you. Do you have everything you need?”

“Yes. Both Soonyoung and I checked twice. You have ensured that everything will run perfectly.” You reach over and take your husband’s hands in yours, squeezing them tightly. “Thank you, Wonwoo. For everything.”

“Ah, it is the least I could do. Now, you have somewhere to be and I cannot keep you waiting any longer. Send me letters, okay?” With a final squeeze of your hands, Wonwoo lets you go. You smile at the man once more before turning away from him and not looking back.

You slip out of the castle through the servant’s doors and quickly make your way to the outskirts of the grounds. It reminds you of all those times you escaped your own house to meet Jihoon at the edge of the forest. The thought makes a grin grow on your face as you speed up your pace even more.

Just like all the previous times, when you get to the edge of the estate Jihoon is standing there waiting for you. You launch yourself into his arms, allowing him to pick you up and twirl you around. He’s giggling high pitched and gleeful as you two spin around in each other’s arms.

When Jihoon finally puts you down he doesn’t waste a moment and leans in to kiss you. You happily kiss him back, grabbing his face and holding him in place. You can feel a wet stream of tears run down your face, your heart bursting with joy as you reunite with your lover.

His lips are familiar against yours and you automatically feel at home. For the first time in months you can relax, finally back in Jihoon’s arms.

“It’s you,” Jihoon muttres when he finally pulls away. He brings his hands up to caress your face.

“It’s me, my love, it’s me,” you tell him back, tears still flowing freely.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you more.” You lean in and press another quick kiss against Jihoon’s lips. “But we will never have to miss each other again.”

“I’m never letting you go,” Jihoon tells you, gripping you tighter. “Oh how much I love you.”

You giggle. “I love you more. Now come on, let’s get out of here.”

You grab Jihoon’s hand and pull him away from the grounds to where his caravan is waiting for you two. As you two travel further and further away from the town you feel your heart grow lighter and lighter, excited for the rest of your life of adventures with your love.

The next time you see Jihoon is nearly a week later. You and Soonyoung are once again getting boba when you spot the boy behind the counter, just like last time. When you and Soonyoung went and got boba a few days prior you noticed that the original Cute Cashier was working, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit of disappointment at him not being Jihoon.

As soon as you lay eyes on your Even Cuter Cashier, you quickly make a beeline into the shop, your desire for boba long gone.

Jihoon looks up when he hears the sound of the bell ringing and his eyes soften into a smile when he sees you entering through the threshold.

“You came back!”

“I did. It’s hard not to, with the amazing service I got last time,” you say. You casually browse the store as you talk to Jihoon, glancing at him every so often as you do. 

“Well I’m glad that my plan to get you to come back succeeded.”

You giggle at Jihoon’s words as you stop in front of a stack of old photos. You flip through them, looking at all the memories they hold. Many of the photos depict different couples, all smiling brightly as they hold each other. The images put a smile on your own face.

“Find something good?” Jihoon asks and you jump a bit at the closeness of his voice. When you turn, you see the man standing by your side.

“Oh, yeah, just these photos! Aren’t they beautiful?” You tilt them a bit to show them off to Jihoon. “I think it’s so amazing that no matter how the world changes, love will always stay the same.”

“Huh, I guess you’re right. Love’s been around since the beginning of time.”

“The love these people were feeling in these photos is the same love we experience today. There really is nothing like it.”

You look back down at the photos. The one in your hand shows a woman clinging onto a man’s arm, her cheek pressed into his bicep as she smiles at the camera. The man himself is smiling as well, though he is smiling down at the woman, rather than the camera. 

“They’re cute,” Jihoon mumbles, his own eyes transfixed on the photo. 

“Yeah,” you say, “I wonder what’s their story.”

“Something happy, I hope,” Jihoon says before moving to walk back behind the counter. You grab a few more photos from the stack before following after him, placing them on the counter.

Jihoon smiles at you and starts to ring you up. You take a moment to stare at him, your eyes tracing over his fluffy hair and round face and kind smile. You don’t stop staring until Jihoon breaks your focus.

“What? Does my hair look stupid or something?” He grins lazily at you again and you feel your heartbeat quicken.

“Uh, n-no! It’s just…your smile is super familiar to me. Sorry, that may be weird.”

“No, no, it’s not. I guess I kinda felt the same thing the first time you came in,” Jihoon tells you. “Who knows, maybe we knew each other in a past life.”

You chuckle at Jihoon’s joke, but you don’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day.

1951

War Against North Korea Rages On, No End in Sight

You frown at the heading, throwing the newspaper aside onto the counter. The news of the North Korean troops invading Seoul changed everyone’s lives, throwing the country into a state of chaos trying to keep them from completely overtaking all of South Korea. Now a year later, the war is still in full force and though you know it’s important to stay updated on what’s happening, you don’t bother with the news articles anymore. They always say more or less the same thing: the war continues on with more casualties and less hope of ending soon.

Your heart grows heavy with each day growing worse than the last. You wish there was more you could do to help the war efforts, but you’re stuck at home taking care of your sick father. He’s the only family you have left, after your mother’s death a few years ago. All of the money received from her passing has gone into your father, but since the start of the war prices have done nothing but skyrocket.

So you spend your days at home taking care of your father, and your nights in a factory working to earn an income. You don’t mind the work though, allowing your mind to focus on something that isn’t the war or your father.

The only other time you get a break, an actual real break, is on Saturdays. It’s the one day in the week you allow yourself to go out, spending the afternoon to yourself getting groceries and taking time to focus on yourself.

You go through the same routine, walking down to the port and spending a few minutes enjoying the waves lapping against the shore, the salty sea water scent filling the air as the summer breeze brushes up against your skin. After taking in the sight of the sea, you move further into town and down the street to the cemetery.

Every Saturday you visit your mother’s grave, sitting with her for a while as you update her on your life and the current events. Occasionally you will bring a book and read aloud. You find the time spent with her calming, her maternal love enveloping you and letting you rest, even for a small bit of time.

Afterwards you browse the shops in town (only looking, never buying) before heading to the market to finish your day off. You spend the money for the groceries to get you through the week before heading back home. You do your best to walk most places you go, not wanting to spend the fare for the trollies. 

The streets are busy on the weekend and on your walk back to your house, someone bumps into you causing you to drop your bags, all of your freshly bought groceries tumbling to the ground. The person doesn’t even stop and you can’t bother chasing them too. You just sigh and bend down to pick up the now unusable goods. 

You now have to turn around and go back into town to get more groceries. It will take a good chunk out of your funds, but not too much. Maybe you’ll pick up a few more shifts at the factory.

“Excuse me, are you okay?” As you’re thinking about how to make up the price of the ruined groceries, you miss the man who has walked up to you.

When you look up you see a beautiful man with a sweet round face and dark hair staring down at you. He’s dressed nicely in a suit and it takes you a moment to actually respond to him, too distracted by his good looks.

“Pardon?”

“I was asking if you were okay?” The man bends down to help you pick up the rest of the food spilled on the ground. “I saw that man bump into you and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh! I’m fine, thank you.” You smile at him, appreciative of the kind gesture.

“But all of your groceries are now ruined. Allow me to buy you more.”

“Oh no! That’s not necessary,” you quickly tell the man. You don’t even know him and you would feel guilty allowing a man who didn’t even cause the casualty to pay for your groceries, especially with the state of the economy.

“I insist,” he says, standing and then helping you stand as well. “It’s the least I could do.”

“Sir it really-” Before you can even finish your sentence the man was walking away, back towards the town. You could just go back home, but then you’d be left with no groceries for the week so you begrudgingly follow him back to the market.

“Lee Jihoon, by the way,” he tells you as you two walk around the market, collecting what you need. You give him your name as well and he grins, a small spark igniting behind his eyes as he tells you how lovely your name is.

When you’re done regathering what you need you move to head to the register, but Jihoon stops you.

“This is all you’re getting? It’s barely enough for any proper meals. Please, add more. I won’t mind, I demand of it actually.” Jihoon then moves to add more to the basket and once again you have to follow along as Jihoon is the one carrying it.

You protest each time a new item is added but Jihoon keeps hushing you like you’re a life long friend rather than a stranger he met on the street no more than thirty minutes ago. By the time Jihoon is satisfied with what’s in your basket, it’s full to the top and you can’t remember the last time you’ve seen so much food in your life. Guilt eats away at you as you think about the money Jihoon is about to drop on you just because someone else made you drop your bags.

It isn’t until you’re checking out and Jihoon casually pulls out multiple banknotes without even a blink of an eye that you realize that not everyone lives like you and that just maybe Jihoon doesn’t mind paying so much because he has the money laying around to do so. Even back when your mother was alive and your father was able to work your family was still paying for everything with scraped up coins.

The sun is already low in the sky by the time you two exit the market and Jihoon stops you once more. “Allow my driver to take you back to your house.”

The sentence alone confirms your suspicions on Jihoon’s monetary status. To own a car is a luxury of its own, but to have a driver as well seals the deal.

You already can tell it’s impossible to turn Jihoon down so you just follow him back to his car. You wonder if his driver followed you after you two walked to the market. When you two get into the car you tell your address to the driver, trying not to get embarrassed at the thought of the nice car driving through your run down little neighborhood. 

Jihoon’s driver just nods and starts up the car. The three of you sit in silence until the car pulls up to your house and you climb out. Jihoon does as well, helping carry your groceries to the door.

“It was nice meeting you,” Jihoon says. “If you ever need anything again, give me a call.” He holds out a small white card, his business card, to you. You take it and thank him once more before entering your house, your mind still lingering on the strange, rich man.

You don’t give Jihoon a call, but you don’t have to. You run into him again not even three days after your first interaction. It’s early in the morning and you’re heading back home after work when you hear your name called out. When you turn you see the man’s car rolling up next to you, his head poking out of the back seat window.

“What are you doing walking alone so early in the morning? The sun has barely started to rise.”

"I'm walking back home from work," you answer honestly.

Jihoon's face looks sour at this, like he couldn't imagine working so late at night. "If you have been working all night let me treat you to breakfast."

It's your turn to let your face screw up slightly. You know that Jihoon can afford to buy you breakfast, but you still don't want to feel indebted to him. Not to mention your father will be waking up soon and you'll need to make his breakfast as well. You tell Jihoon as much.

"Then I will buy breakfast for your father too," is his solution.

You're not sure why he keeps insisting on buying you things but you just sigh and climb into the car. Jihoon has a smug grin on his face as he tells his driver where to go.

A few minutes later the car pulls up in front of a diner and you and Jihoon enter. It's nothing extravagant, but still a treat for those with a tight budget. 

The two of you sit in silence until a waitress comes and takes your order. Jihoon doesn't allow you to order for yourself, picking what he tells you are the most delicious and filling items. He orders for himself and then a third meal, asking the waitress to not cook it until she brings the check.

You note the way Jihoon has a nice presence to him, friendly and warm and inviting. The way his soft features are accentuated when he smiles, his round cheeks puffing up and his eyes squinting. You find him fascinating, but there's something more than that, something drawing you to him.

"So, where do you work that has you walking home at six in the morning?" 

The question breaks the ice between you as you fall into a natural conversation, asking questions and trading answers. Your hesitations towards the man quickly ebb the more you talk.

You learn he's a highly successful businessman but the war has halted much of his work which has given him some much needed down time. Like you, he doesn't have many living family members and he's an altruistic man so much of his money is left unspent.

Before you know it both of your meals are finished and the waitress is bringing over the check and the packaged meal for your father. Just like at the market, Jihoon pulls out his banknotes and pays before escorting you back to his car.

When you arrive at your house a part of you feels disappointed that the morning with Jihoon is over. Now it's back to the real world. 

You're halfway to your door when you suddenly turn back around. You don't know what causes you to say it before you can stop yourself you spit out, "Would you like to come in for a cup of tea? It's the last I could do after all of your kindness." 

Jihoon beams in front of you. "I would love that."

Bloodiest Battles of the War So Far, Conscription Soon to Follow?

Five months after you meet Jihoon he knocks on your front door, a letter clutched in his fist. There's a grim look on his face when you open the door and you know automatically.

The Battle of Bloody Ridge, follwoed by The Battle of Heartbreak Ridge, took out many of the soldiers on the frontlines and the country was now desperate to find new ones to replace them. A mandatory conscription for any young man who was eligible to join the military.

It didn't take long for you and Jihoon to start a relationship after your first few meetings. He's the perfect man, taking care of both you and your father and showering you in nothing but love and affection. The thought of him so far away, in the direct line of danger, makes a lump grow in your throat. Your chest tightens as your heart aches.

"We'll be okay," Jihoon mutters into your hair as you cry silently into his neck, holding him tightly. Like if you hold him tight enough he won't have to leave.

That's not how the world works though, and you accompany Jihoon on the day he is to deploy.

"If you need more money just send me a letter and I'll take care of it, okay?"

"You've left me with plenty already, love," you tell him as you fix his jacket collar. "Just come home safe."

"As long as you make sure I have something to come home to."

You can already feel the tears welling up in your eyes and you lean forward to press your lips to Jihoon's. He kisses you back, putting all of his love into it. A promise to you, that you will see him again, that this isn't your last kiss.

With one last squeeze of the hand Jihoon boards the bus and you're left alone, a heaviness in your heart and worry forming under your skin.

You just have to keep telling yourself he'll be okay, he has to be.

December 19, 1951

To the one my heart has gone to,

I hope you don't mind the frequency of my letters, I just feel closer to you know that eventually you'll hold the same paper in your fingers. I miss you tremendously, to the point my heart aches thinking of you.

Do you know that when you send your letters they smell of you? I always keep your most recent ones safe, in hopes to preserve the smell for just a little while longer.

There's not much to report about today, which I suppose is a good thing. Better than something hectic or even worse, a battle. 

Unfortunately it still doesn't look like there will be a break anytime soon. Battle after battle, life after life. It's not easy, but I've come to like the other men in my unit. Jeonghan takes good of us and Seokmin makes nice company. 

I don't want to keep you long, but I wanted to make sure you'd get a letter for before the holidays hit. Merry Christmas my love.

I'll make it up to you when I get home okay? For now just keep me in your dreams.

Write back soon, please. I want to hear what my lover has been up to. Keep me updated on your father as well.

All my love,

Your Jihoon

March 22, 1952

Today was hard.

I'm doing unwell as I write this letter, but it would pain me more not to send you my update.

Kwon Soonyoung died next to me today on the battlefield. It is not the first time a man has died near me, but it is the first time it was a man I have grown fond of. He was only a few months older than I am.

As grim as it may sound, and as much as I will mourn the loss, I am grateful that it was not me in his place. It was a difference of mere inches and fate chose Soonyoung. Does it mean anything? Is there a reason why I lived and he didn’t? I’m not sure but all I can think about is that his sacrifice is giving me a second chance at going home. Does that make me a bad person?

Everyday I pray this nightmare will be over. The thought of you is the only thing encouraging me to go on. I think about coming home to you, kissing your sweet lips, holding you in my arms.

We’ve been apart longer than we were together and I beat myself up for that everyday. I wish we would have met earlier, but as soon as the war is over we will have all the time in the world. Just you and me.

Wish me home soon,

Your Jihoon

November 30, 1952

To the home of my heart,

You have been on my mind all of today, not that you aren’t always on my mind normally. It has been particularly hard today though. It’s been a full year since my departure from you and every day has been harder than the last.

It’s hard to sleep at night and I often lay awake and think about you. Sometimes I will take a walk and look up at the sky. The moon and the stars are thousands of miles away but they still seem so close and bring so much comfort. That’s how I feel about you. Gazing at the moon also helps because it is still the same moon that you are under as well.

Look at the moon and think of me okay? Maybe one night we will be looking at the moon at the same time and I will be able to feel you just a bit closer.

Whenever I am able to fall asleep, I dream about you. I dream about the thought of you laying next to me. I wish to kiss your soft lips and feel your warm skin and look into your shining eyes. I dream of the life we will build together when we are reunited at last.

Would you marry me, my love?

I know it’s silly asking over a letter like this, and asking with such a strange courtship, but something in me feels the need to ask. Ever since I met you on the street that one fateful day, I’ve known you were the one for me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so please accept my proposal (I promise to give you a proper one the second I get home).

The other men keep teasing me about you, but they just don’t understand the love we share. Being with you, even just the thought of you, it feels like home.

A part of me wonders if I’ve secretly loved you my whole life. It sure feels like it. No matter what I know you were made for me and everyday I bless whatever force brought us together. I love you so much it drives me crazy.

When I get home let me take you out on a thousand dates to make up for the time lost. 

Please send me your answer soon,

Your fiance Jihoon

February 01, 1953

To my dearest,

I’m writing to you from the infirmary. I was shot in battle earlier, nowhere too fatal just the leg, but I just woke up from the procedure to remove the bullet and patch me up. I’m lucky to come out with nothing more than a scar. Some other men aren’t as lucky.

It seems everyday is a new fight, but it’s worth it if it gives me a chance of going back home to you. We’ll buy a house close to the port, so you can be near the ocean breeze. Every night we’ll walk the shore and watch the sunset together. Then on Saturdays I’ll accompany you on your errands. We’ll go to town together and get groceries and visit the cafe and do whatever your heart desires. 

I’ll buy fresh flowers for your parents every week.

We could get a cat to keep you company while I’m at work and you could quit that heinous job at the factory. That would give you more time to focus on yourself. You and I both know that my wealth is more than enough for just the two of us.

Our house shouldn’t be too big, but still a good size in case we ever have guests over. I think we should start a garden as well.

Ah, my love, thinking about our future is nice. It helps me wish for the future, helps me feel closer to you. Thank you for being my safe place away from this nightmare. I should rest more now, but please remember that I will always spend everyday loving you.

Pray for my speedy recovery,

Your Jihoon

July 07, 1953

Jagiya! I apologize for the lack of letters recently, things have been so hectic around here, but I write with good news!

The talk around camp is that the negotiations have been making a move, there is finally an end in sight. I cannot wait to get back to you. It has been far too long since I’ve seen you and the photo I carry of you has started to fade already from how often I admire it. 

I cannot stay to write for long, but I needed to send you an update and a reminder of my love. I promise we will be back together soon.

Go to town and buy some flowers for yourself okay? Today is worth celebrating.

I can’t wait to see you,

Your Jihoon

You’re jittery as you smooth down your shirt, waiting for the bus to pull up. The same bus that took him away nearly two years ago.

When all of your friends heard about your beau, they all called you crazy. Holding out for a man who has been gone for quadruple the amount of time you spent together and you guess maybe it is crazy, but for Jihoon you would do anything.

It is true that you two were only together for five months before his deployment, but even before he left you knew you were madly in love with Lee Jihoon. You spent your nights reading the letters Jihoon sent you, and writing ones back. You would think you two had been lovers for fifty years rather than five months.

You’ve always felt the pull towards Jihoon though, like you’ve been loving him all your life. Every letter he sent made you fall in love with him even more, and now two years later he’s finally coming home. 

The days were hard without him when you saw him nearly everyday before he left. Winter of 1952 was less than kind, taking your father with it and leaving you alone for the last seven months, wishing for nothing but for Jihoon to come home. Now he is and you couldn’t be more elated.

The people standing around you start to cheer when someone catches sight of the bus, but you can’t do anything but stand there, your heart pounding in your chest. When the bus stops and soldiers start to pour out you have a moment of doubt. The fear that Jihoon won’t want you anymore, that everything has changed for the worse, creeps into your mind.

The thoughts can barely form though because then Jihoon’s stepping off the bus and his skin is so much tanner than it used to be and you’ve never seen him with his hair so short but it’s Jihoon, your Jihoon. His eyes light up when he catches sight of your familiar face and he’s dropping his bags and running towards you.

His arms are locked around your waist and you’re being lifted off the ground. You cup Jihoon’s face in your hands and lean down to kiss him as he spins you two around, easing all of the worries in your mind. Your cheeks dampen as tears start to stream down your face, too many emotions coursing through you to keep them all on the inside.

You keep your hands on Jihoon’s face as he sets you down. You stroke his cheek, feeling his warm skin under your touch. “You’re here, you’re really here.”

“I’m here my love, I’m here, and I’m never leaving you again.”

It doesn’t take much longer for you and Jihoon to leave the station. You two sit in the back of his car, pressed together as Jihoon presses kisses to your face every few minutes. You’re not much better though, leaning into him with a dopey grin on your face, ready to start your new life with the man you love the most.

The next time you see Jihoon isn’t at the antique shop at all. You’re getting coffee at the cafe next to your apartment when you see the man walk in. His eyes light up a bit when he sees you and he makes a beeline to your table after getting his drink.

“Is this seat open?” He asks, pointing to the empty chair across from you.

“Of course.”

Jihoon takes a seat before turning his attention to you. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Maybe it’s fate,” you say teasingly but Jihoon just grins.

“Maybe it is,” his voice is smooth as he talks, and your breath gets caught in your throat, “I mean, I wouldn’t be upset if I was destined to meet you over and over again.”

You break his gaze, trying not to show him how flustered you are. “You’re quite the sweet talker you know? You don’t know anything about me-”

“No, but I don’t think it would be hard to learn. I’m starting to think we’re not really strangers at all. You can’t tell me that you aren’t a bit interested in me as well.”

You glance back at Jihoon to find him staring intently at him. His eyes are warm and deep and you can feel yourself being drawn in, like you’ve stared at those eyes a million times before. There’s an inviting sense to all of Jihoon and the only thing you can think of to describe it as is home. 

“Okay,” you tell him with a slight grin. “Let’s see if destiny is right.”

And really you don’t care if it is fate or not, because as you and Jihoon fall into a comfortable conversation you realize that the two of you meeting was no mistake, and that you could definitely love Lee Jihoon for multiple lifetimes. 

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[lovelyjj]

When I Was Your Man

jj maybank x ex!reader ——> rafe cameron x reader

wc: 3.3k

lyrics in italics and in bold

Same bed but it feels just a little bit bigger now

Our song on the radio but it don't sound the same

When our friends talk about you, all it does is just tear me down

'Cause my heart breaks a little when I hear your name

JJ was still getting used to waking up without out you. The other side of his bed lay empty. He would wake up without your body heat and you snuggled next to him. Each morning he woke up he felt cold and entirely alone.

Today was no different, he stretched his arm out to the other side of the bed hoping to find a body. Instead he was met with cold sheets. The bed felt too large to be in, swallowing him whole.

JJ got up as he was going to hang out with the pogues today. After A few minutes he walked out of his room and met John B outside. The twinkie was waiting for the two of them.

John B and JJ hopped in the twinkie and started on the road to pick up Pope.

As John B was driving JJ's heart sunk as a familiar tune made its way on the radio. It was "Say You Won't Let Go." Your song.

John B made a motion to turn it up.

"You like this song right JJ?" John B inquired.

"No shut it off please." JJ pleaded.

John B was fiddling with the volume button that it wasn't turning off fast enough. JJ reached his hand over and slammed it off.

***flash back***

The radio hummed as the five of you ate at the wreck. Then one of your favorite songs came on through the radio.

"Dance with me JJ," you spoke standing up.

JJ got up as well and made his way over to you.

You took JJ's hands in yours and swung into him and then out. JJ slipped his hand around your waist and kept his other hand in yours.

The soft melody of "Say You Won't Let Go" rang in your ears. JJ spun you around and you smiled brightly at him.

JJ's heart skipped a beat when you looked at him like that. Your eyes sparkling and showing him love. Your bright smile that told him your happy with him.

Then you turned towards JJ and sang, "I wanna live with you even when we're ghosts. 'Cause you were always there for me when I needed you most."

The words you sang rang true as you sang them. The way JJ herd the way you meant what you were singing.

JJ continued to the next verse and mouthed, "I'm gonna love you till my lungs give out."

The two of you swayed as you danced. You were wrapped up in one another and slow dancing.

"This is our song now," You grinned.

"Of course baby it's ours," JJ responded.

You gave JJ a hug as your dancing came to an end. He secured his arms around you and squeezed tightly. He than proceeded to kiss your forehead.

***flashback ends***

JJ and the pogues were all back at the château outside enjoying each others company.

"What should we do today?" John B asked.

"I don't know we could go to the beach," Pope suggested.

"Y/N always loved the beach." Kiara reminded everyone.

At the mention of your name JJ froze. He felt his heart stutter. JJ hearing your name crushed him.

"Yeah she always loved looking at the waves," Sarah stated.

"I wish she was here with us," John B commented.

"Can we actually not talk about Y/N right now," JJ spoke.

"Right sorry JJ," John B apologized.

Everyone did end up going to the beach. JJ however looked glum. All his friends noticed his strange behavior but no one commented on it.

Truth be told JJ was thinking about you. He couldn't seem to get you off his mind. He was reminiscing about the times you had together. He missed you a lot and he had no idea what to do about it.

————

It all just sounds like ooh, ooh, ooh, hoo

Mm, too young, too dumb to realize

That I should have bought you flowers

And held your hand

Should have gave you all my hours

When I had the chance

Take you to every party 'cause all you wanted to do was dance

***flash back***

JJ wasn't stupid. He knew that having a catch as good as you was lucky. He also knew that in order to keep you he had to treat you right. He also had to do special things for you.

JJ was young and he didn't have that much money. Coming from the cut, he felt he wasn't worthy of your love. He was poor and came from nothing, therefore would not amount to anything. He sometimes felt like he didn't deserve you.

You were at the grocery store and when you first walked in there was a bunch of bouquets of flowers in buckets. "Oooh look how pretty!" you exclaimed.

You picked up a bunch of sunflowers and held them to your nose. You inhaled and JJ watched as you did so. He couldn't afford anything more than food. So as embarrassed as he was he took your hand and ushered you away from the roses and to the food aisles. "Come on let's go."

JJ dropped your hand once you reached the food aisle and didn't hold it again. You went to grab his hand when you were leaving the store but he put his hand in his pocket instead, silently dismissing you.

When you got back from the store you decided to hang out at the château. You and JJ were on the couch relaxing when you thought of some things to do together.

"Hey J, do you want to go have a picnic?"

"No not really," he replied.

"Ok do you want to go surfing?"

"No I got some stuff to work on actually, I'm gonna head out," JJ got up to stand and walked out without even kissing you goodbye.

————

A week later there was a party at the boneyard. You were really excited to go because you loved parties. You loved the atmosphere and the energy. You liked to mingle and talk and most of all dance drunkenly.

You were in the hammock at the château wondering what you were gonna wear to the party today when JJ approached you. You were happy to see your boyfriend and excited to spend time with him at the party.

"Hey baby, I have some bad news," JJ announced.

"What is it?"

"I can't take you to the party today."

"Why not?" You questioned.

"I have to help John B with something, it's really important and I'm really sorry." JJ expressed.

"Ok well can't I just go without you," you figured.

"What? Are you crazy?! No you can't. I won't be there to protect you from all the guys that hit on you. No way. Not happening." JJ seethed.

"It's not like I will accept their advances. I won't engage with them. I just want to dance," you replied.

"But what happens when guys come up behind you and take hold of your hips and have you grind on them," JJ raised a brow.

"Like that will ever happen," you countered.

"You never know."

"So there's no way in hell your letting me go to this party?" you asked again.

"Nope." JJ put his foot down, crossing his arms.

"Please go away so I don't tell you off."

JJ walked away without another word and you laid in the hammock wondering what you did to have not earned his trust.

You ended up not going to the party per JJ's wishes and you were sad about it. You ended up stuck in your room watching romantic comedies.

***flashback ends***

Now my baby's dancing

But she's dancing with another man

JJ was at the bonfire. He was dragged here by John B. He wasn't really in a party mood but he decided to get something to drink. JJ got a beer from the cooler and leaned against the wall assessing the party.

What he didn't except was to see was you dancing with Rafe. You were holding hands with Rafe and twirling from side to side. You were in your own little world. Rafe was swinging you in and out from his chest and dancing to the music.

JJ was about to spit fire. He was seething. Out of all the people you could be with you chose Rafe. JJ was no angel but he wasn't anything like Rafe. Rafe was evil, pond scum, terrible and JJ was protective, calm, laidback, and nice.

JJ watched you dance with Rafe with a scowl on his face. He wasn't happy. That should be him. He should be the one that has you in his arms. He should be the one making you laugh. He should be the one you choose. He should be the one you dance with.

Rafe didn't deserve you. No one was worthy enough for you except him. He hated seeing you dance with someone else. He thought back to when you wanted to go to a party and he said he wouldn't take you. He felt bad and guilty about it because you most likely wanted to dance with him.

JJ had half a mind to go over there and fight Rafe. He chose to stand there watching and biting his tongue. Then something happened that JJ didn't expect. Rafe grabbed your face and lowered his head to place his lips on yours.

JJ was fuming. How dare he kiss you in front of him. JJ wasn't thinking clearly maybe it was the alcohol coursing through his veins but he made his way over to where you and Rafe were.

JJ stepped up to the pair of you and tapped Rafe on the shoulder.

"What the hell is your problem?"

"My problem? You wanna know what my problem is oh I'll tell you my problem," JJ pointed an accusatory finger at Rafe.

Then JJ looked on your direction and saw your apprehensive face.

"JJ don't do this," you begged.

"I think you can cool it with the PDA," JJ grumbled.

""Or what?" Rafe stuck is tongue against his cheek.

"Or else i'll fight you." JJ crossed his arms and getting up in Rafe's face.

"Oh I'd love to see you try," Rafe responded.

"No we don't we don't need to see it," You gathered Rafe and tried to pull him in a different direction.

"Count your blessings JJ," Rafe spit out before walking off with you, arm thrown around your waist.

My pride, my ego, my needs, and my selfish ways

Caused a good strong woman like you to walk out my life

Now I never, never get to clean up the mess I made, oh

And that haunts me every time I close my eyes

***flashback***

The château was empty besides you and JJ. The other pogues were at the beach, leaving you two alone. The sun was setting dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in pink and orange.

The air was crisp and chilly. The breeze from the screen door drifted into the room making you shiver. It was almost the evening time and you were sat on the couch.

JJ was in the lounge chair next to you, smoking a blunt. There was something bothering you and JJ was oblivious to it. You sat there with an annoyed look on your face waiting for JJ to notice.

It wasn't until JJ was done with his blunt that he looked on your direction. He had been busy thinking about work. He hadn't noticed your irritation until now.

"What's the matter?" JJ asked.

You let out a big sigh. You were tired, so tired of putting up with JJ. You believed he wasn't treating you right. It was always all about him. What he wanted to do, where he wanted to go. He was always boasting about himself.

"Nothing JJ, I'm just tired," you responded.

"Well something must be bothering you if you keep looking at me like that," JJ reasoned.

"Alright fine, I'm annoyed at you for being so selfish all the time," you frowned.

"What do you mean?" JJ questioned.

"I mean it's like you don't even care about me anymore. Sometimes you hurt me and you don't even show remorse. You don't care how your behavior impacts me," you huffed.

"So you want to change who I am?" JJ was shocked. He didn't know where this was coming from. He thought everything was fine between you two. He didn't know this had been brewing for a while.

"No, I'm just saying I don't appreciate how you've been acting." You replied.

"Right because I've been so bad," JJ scoffed.

"I'm not trying to criticize you I'm trying to better our relationship by helping you realize the problem," you explained.

"Sounds like you are," JJ countered.

"Well i'm not."

"Whatever Y/N," JJ stated.

"JJ stop being a jerk and listen to me," you begged.

"What?" JJ looked at you like he was annoyed.

"I can't keep putting up with you," you said exasperated.

You got up, and walked outside fed up with JJ's attitude. JJ quickly followed you outside. He was determined to prove to you he was a good boyfriend.

"Y/N! Y/N! wait," JJ called out.

You spun around with a angry look on your face, "JJ I'm done I've had it I don't want to be with you anymore," you were done with his behavior lately and you needed your space.

"Y/N, please I can change, I'll do better," JJ pleaded.

"Those are just empty promises," you spat.

"No they aren't," JJ argued.

"JJ I give up. You know things haven't been good between us for a while. I think it's time to call it quits," you sadly said.

"But I still love you," JJ cried.

"I love you too, but I don't think that's enough anymore," you sighed.

"Goodbye JJ," you spoke softly.

As you turned around and started to walk off, a tear rolled down JJ's cheek. He knew it was over, you ended things and it was entirely his fault.

*****flashback ends*****

JJ was reflecting on your relationship. Ever since he lost you he been beating himself up. Every time he closes his eyes he sees your retreating figure leaving him.

JJ knew he made mistakes, he knew he was in the wrong and made a mess of things. He wanted to win you back desperately. But he also knew you were with Rafe now. You have moved on.

It all just sounds like ooh, ooh, ooh, hoo

Mm, too young, too dumb to realize

That I should have bought you flowers

And held your hand

Should have gave you all my hours

When I had the chance

Take you to every party 'cause all you wanted to do was dance

JJ thought about your relationship from the beginning to the end. It was truly magical. The beginning was glamorous and fun. The newness of it brought a sense of excitement.

Falling in love with you was one of the easiest things JJ could have done. You were perfect for him. Your relationship was filled with adventure and love along with joy.

When JJ first saw you he was immediately hooked on you. There was something about you that made him feel something in his chest. When you two started talking he was over the moon. Eventually since there was sparks between you two you started dating.

Dating you was like sunshine at the beach. Warm and inviting, along with happiness. It was all sunshine and rainbows for the most part. Towards the end is when everything went downhill. But JJ tried his best to be a good boyfriend for most of the relationship.

You were his drug. Without you he was nothing. You made his days better and brighter.

He got caught up in the highlights of the relationship that he didn’t realize he was sabotaging it.

JJ wished he bought you flowers. He wished he was more caring and didn’t act like a dumbass near the end of the relationship. He wished he gave you more attention instead of throwing himself into work.

Now my baby's dancing

But she's dancing with another man

Although it hurts

I'll be the first to say that I was wrong

Oh, I know I'm probably much too late

To try and apologize for my mistakes

But I just want you to know

JJ wanted to apologize for his actions. He felt bad for what happened and felt like he could of fought for you more.

How can he apologize when you are with Rafe. JJ doubts Rafe would let him even get close to you, which made JJ feel even worse.

JJ was replaying your break up in his head over and over. He wasn't over you and it had been months. He kept thinking there was something he could of said or did that would have prevented the break up.

At work at the country club, girls would come up to him and flirt with him. They would ask him out and of course he would turn them down. There was only one girl he wanted to go out with but he blew it.

JJ was depressed. He went to work and back to the château and slept most of the time he wasn't working. John B would try and get him to go out with him and hang out, to get out of the house but JJ turned him down every time.

JJ was also hurting. Even though it was his fault that everything went wrong he still loved you. He was lost without you. Other than sleeping and work he also started drinking and smoking a lot more. He was a hot mess.

I hope he buys you flowers

I hope he holds your hand

Give you all his hours

When he has the chance

Take you to every party

'Cause I remember how much you loved to dance

Do all the things I should have done

When I was your man

Do all the things I should have done

When I was your man

Rafe was in his kitchen when he saw that the mail came. You were still peacefully sleeping and Rafe didn't want to wake you. He took the stack of envelopes and looked through the mail.

It was mainly just bills but then he saw a letter addressed to him. He decided to open it, and what was inside he was not expecting.

Rafe,

I know you don't like me and that is valid but I feel that it's important for me to tell you these things. I also feel like you might throw this away so I encourage you to read this. Do it for Y/N if not for me. I know you care about her so I trust you will do the right thing.

Y/N is breathtaking. In every way. Treat her with love and kindness as well as respect everyday. I know I should have treated her better and it's something I will regret for the rest of my life.

I expect you to keep her happy. I don't want you to take what i'm saying lightly. Y/N deserves the world and more and if you can't give her that than move on. I assume you think you can give her the world so I have some very important tips.

She likes bubble baths with coconut scented products. She likes extra hot chamomile tea at night time. She likes to have bonfires at the beach after watching the sunset. She likes to slow dance in the kitchen. She likes getting her nails done.

You should get her flowers every once and a while because she lights up when she sees them. When she's mad she will shut you out but let her come to you. When she's sad be her shoulder to cry on. And ice cream also helps a lot. Her favorite is cookies n cream.

When you feel like she could use a break because she's a hard worker treat her to a spa day or something. She doesn't loose her temper often but when she does listen to her. She will most likely apologize first in arguments, but don't always let her do that.

She's scared of thunder so make sure to be attentive and extra kind when it's storming. Sometimes all she needs is reassurance so be there for her and reassure her as much as you can. Her love language is physical touch so be there for her in ways that support her needs.

Hold her hand in public, it makes her feel safe. When you are at a party she loves to dance so make sure you dance with her. When you feel like you're becoming possessive trust her she would never do anything to be disloyal.

Love her with your whole heart because she deserves it. Treat her like she's the only girl in the world. Treat her like a princess. I know I could have done a lot better as a boyfriend so she deserves better than me. And I hope to god for your sake that's you.

-JJ

Rafe was shocked. He decided not to tell you about the letter because he didn't want to bring up old wounds. So, he tucked the letter away and went to go cuddle into you.

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen’s Club series)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ MDNI

Chapter 019: The Piggyback

If you had the chance to do it over again with Eddie — and DO IT RIGHT — would you?

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014** , 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020* * = somewhat smut , ** = smut

CW: hospital setting, dialogue heavy, uncertainty, fluff, talks of blood/broken bones/etc., car accident implications

word count: 2.5k words

“I’ll pick up these broken pieces ‘til I’m bleeding, if that’ll make it right.”

♡

Hawkins Memorial Hospital reeks of bleach wipes and bitter tears.

“Eddie…” Dustin wails. “No no no, noooo. Eddie…”

You’re sitting on the floor of the nurses station with Robin, Steve, and Nancy while the ‘kiddos’ occupy the waiting chairs. Surely, it's got to be unsanitary, but contracting germs off the floor of the ICU were the least of your concerns.

Your eyes follow Wayne as he helplessly wheels around, talking to anyone who would lend him an ear... anyone who would possibly know anything about his nephew’s condition.

“And my nephew — Eddie — he's self-employed,” Wayne continues to tell them.

Wheeling…wheeling…wheeling…

“But the Program he’s with allows him to go through Scott Clarke. You know Scott Clarke Insurance? It’s S-c-o-t-t, C-l-a-r-k-e… I’m through them too…”

But the able-bodied personnel are too fast for old Wayne, walking at a speed about 5mph while his frail fingers can only allow him up to 2 and a half. Just like the liters of oxygen he is on.

“Does he have a case manager assigned to him yet?” Wayne wonders. “If so I would like their name, please.”

Eventually Wayne’s voice fades the further away he gets. And just so you don't wallow in your misery, you go to your phone to see if anyone else has been reaching out to you for updates.

Justice (Hellfire)

Omg just heard the news! Hey girlie, is Eddie ok??? Can we come see him yet??

Just as you expected. Annoyed, you respond.

Girl fuck you

Suddenly a hand squeezes your kneecap. You didn't realize how aggressively you were tapping your feet until Max stops you.

“Doing okay, sis?”

“Yeah I'm just...” you sigh. “…going through all the emotions I guess. And in a fucked up way, I'm kinda convinced this is all my fault."

“You're a dumbass," she scowls at you. "How could you have possibly seen this coming? This was not in anyone’s control."

“I broke the rule,” is all you say. “We never go to bed angry.”

The odds have always been against you. You would think you knew that by now. It was probably why you spent all morning beating yourself up; because you knew that if you did, there's a huge possibility that Eddie would pull through. The Universe is twisted like that.

Suddenly, a pair of white coats are seen coming out of Eddie's room. Everybody in the party immediately stands, like it's some formation exercise at a bootcamp of sorts. Wayne eventually circles back as well, gazing up at Dr. Owens with hopeful eyes.

“Eddie is going to be okay,” Owens concludes. “You can all breathe now.”

The room fills with bone-weary, but nonetheless celebratory cheers. Owens and Eddie's nurse, Nurse Patty allows everybody to hug one another in relief. Eddie's doctor goes to speak again when the clamor dies down.

“But he did have to undergo emergency surgery,” Dr. Owens adds. “And he lost a lot of blood, so we have him on additional transfusions, as well as an antibiotic for an infection caused by his wounds. The plan for him is to recover, hopefully get him up with therapy when the time is right, and then he can get out of here.”

“Can we see him?” your voice cracks.

“That is up to him," the doctor responds. "But for now, what the young man told me is that he wants chocolate pudding... and to see his Uncle and girlfriend."

You and Wayne waste no time. Unlocking the brakes of his wheelchair, you lug Eddie's uncle into ICU room #010, unsure of what is to greet you behind the curtains.

The room is littered with juice and jello, laced by an overpowering bleach-esque fragrance that most likely was there to mask the innate smell of blood and other bodily fluids.

Beep, beep, beep, goes the familiar IV machine. And funny enough, Eddie has his TV on, blasting South Park on full volume, exactly the way it normally would be playing at the Harrington-Munson estate.

"…tell everyone the truth about whose fault this is! I didn't do anything!" ... "...you KNEW about the prank, you could've stopped it at any time, but you didn't say a word. SILENCE IS VIOLENCE!"

And there is Eddie, dressed in a mesh-fabric gauze bandana, a worn-out beige hospital gown, with matching grippy socks. His entire lower lip is busted, left arm in a cast, both of his heels elevated with blood-saturated pillows. And his hair... you didn't even want to think about the matting. But that is ground to be covered much later.

When Eddie sees the two of you, he only utters one sentence:

“Does this mean I finally get that motorcycle?”

“You fucking idiot!” you wail going in to hug him.

Eddie chuckles solemnly as you completely fall into his embrace, soaking his gown with your salty tears.

"I thought we lost you, Eddie,” you whisper in his ear as you sniff your tears away. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if we did...knowing what I said."

He strokes your hair. "You have every right to be mad at me. I've been such a shitty boyfriend to you."

“I second that,” Wayne huffs, crossing his arms. “The idiot part, I mean… but I’m glad you’re okay, son.”

“Tell me something I don’t know, Wayne,” Eddie grumbles. “I knew those Eddie Stops would catch up to me one day.”

Eventually, the rest of the party spills in, starting with the batallion of younger Hellfire boys who were inconsolable all morning, absolutely petrified of losing their role-model.

"Jesus,” Dustin breathes. “We thought you were a-goner!”

"Hey guys, good to see ya," Eddie grins, soaking up every bit of attention from his little minions as they all pile on top of him. Suddenly, he flinches. "Hey hey hey, watch my IVs! I've got an important med running through that piggyback."

"Right, sorry," they all utter in unison as they separate themselves from him.

Steve is next in line to give Eddie a hug, followed by Robin, and Nancy, and soon Jonathan. Chrissy and Argyle are the next people to trail in, with Henry and Nina at their tail. Then, the Corroded Coffin boys soon after.

"Eddie, oh my god!" Chrissy cries. "Don't you ever scare any of us like that again!"

"Good to see ya, Chris," Eddie smiles, giving her a one-armed hug. "Hey Neens! Creel! Villalobos. Boys.”

"So not cool man," Argyle shakes his head. "So not cool. We were worried sick for you."

As you all iron out the details, it is discovered that Eddie got into the accident shortly after leaving your place. He, in fact did, pull an Eddie Stop, failing to see the car coming at him from his left side, which then resulted in him getting T-boned. The other driver was okay. In fact, he was the one who called the ambulance for him.

"How much longer until you're discharged?" Nancy asks.

"I'm not too sure," Eddie sighs. "Hopefully in a few weeks."

He fails to sit up completely, wincing once again when his pain drags him down. Everybody nearly rushes to his aid, tenderly lowering Eddie back onto the bed while encouraging him to take it easy.

"Don't even worry about it, Eds," Lucas assures him. "We can hold down the fort."

"Oh that's reassuring," Eddie mutters sarcastically, shaking his head in discontent.

"What'd you say?"

"Nothing!"

---

You decide to stay with Eddie for the afternoon while everyone else goes home. A couple others stay behind as well, so you all take turns alternating, helping the nurses with their care and making sure Eddie isn't alone when a specialist from his team comes to see him.

But for now, it's just you and him, cuddled up in his rather stiff hospital bed, watching TV to pass time by.

"It feels weird sitting in place for once," he comments. "My body isn't used to laying down for a long period of time."

"Constantly in fight or flight, huh?" you tut. "Always on the go..."

Eddie whistles. "God, you have no idea..."

"Nah, I do," you insist, grabbing his hand to kiss it. "Our flights just look a lil different is all."

Suddenly, your phone rings again, causing both you and Eddie to jolt in shock. This time, it's your FaceTime ringtone... and on the other line, is Kassidy, quite possibly accompanied by the other Hellfire Girls.

"Jesus H. Christ," you mumble. "They've been spamming me all morning. Probably just wanna know how you're doing."

"Answer it," Eddie encourages you sharply. His tone is rather gruff, and urgent. "I need to talk to them."

Because you're nice enough to allow the girls the luxury of knowing their lord and savior is alive, you answer the call and hand your phone to Eddie. There's a slight pause before the call is connected.

"Hi," is all Eddie says.

"Eddie! OMG!" the girls squeal through the other line, of course all while failing to acknowledge you — the person whose number they called in the first place. "Are you okay?!"

"Yes girls, I'm fine..." he sighs. "How's Hellfire? Everyone holding down the fort?"

"Of course, just like we do best," Kassidy responds. "We just miss you, Eddie. What happened?"

"Got T-boned."

"OMG, whose fault was it?"

"Mine," he seems relatively short with them.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm in a little bit of pain. But I got some pain meds to help me."

"Thank God!"

Meanwhile, on the other side of the hospital walls, Nina and Chrissy stare at each other in bewilderment, a look that is naturally followed by one of disgust.

"Oh I know damn well..." Nina shakes her head.

"Stupid ass bitches," Chrissy adds.

Being the nosy girls they are, Nina and Chrissy crane their heads over into the room, eavesdropping on the FaceTime conversation between Eddie and the Hellfire Girls.

"Oh Eddie," Emmy pouts. "We're so glad that you're doing okay."

"Yeah, Eddie!" Lady chirps. "When do you think you'll be released?"

"Hopefully I'll be out in about two weeks," Eddie responds. "But I'll stay at home for a bit before coming back. You won't even know I'm gone."

The girls cheer obnoxiously on the other line. You try to act indifferent towards everything for Eddie's sake, but it's hard for you to feign something that so evidently isn't true.

Eddie senses it. And what he says next to the girls takes you by surprise.

"...But," Eddie says. "In that same amount of time, I expect your lockers to be cleared... as well as your side of the dressing room."

There's a brief silence while the girls try to piece together what Eddie means by that. Because surely it doesn't mean what they initially thought it meant.

"Why? Are we getting moved?"

"No, you're all getting terminated."

So it was exactly what they thought it meant.

"Wh-what? Why?!"

"What do you mean why?" Eddie demands.

He begins to list off everything they have done wrong, all of which they pretended to be oblivious about until now.

"The final straw is calling my girlfriend's phone, non-stop, knowing that's the only way to get through to me," Eddie goes on. "And not even acknowledging her! And even if you did, you all have some damn nerve considering what you guys did at Hellfire."

"You don't even have proof of us damaging her property though!" Justice argues. "So for all we know, you're just accusing us of things, Eddie."

"That's funny," you speak up. "Who said anything about property damage?"

Caught in their own trap.

The MAIN reason Eddie couldn't fire the Hellfire Girls when they put sugar in your gas tank was because you didn't have any proof that they did it, therefore it wouldn't hold up well if the girls decided to sue for wrongful termination. Again, lots of legalities to come in to play.

The girls were smart though. Choosing to wreck your car because they knew it was parked in the security camera's blindspot. Essentially, after the damage was done, it would be your word against theirs. And there was only so much that Eddie could do with the "subtle jabs". But now that you have a confession, Eddie can work off of that.

"But Eddie!" Justice whines. "This is so unfair. We've known you, and been at Hellfire longer than she has."

"Two weeks," Eddie reiterates, still firm on his decision. "That's enough time for you ladies to figure out the next step. I wish you the best of luck."

The ending of the FaceTime call wasn't a pretty one. It mainly consisted of denying and bargaining, all of which Eddie did not have the energy to be receptive to.

You and Eddie continue to hash it out with the girls over the phone, all while Nina and Chrissy were twerking in celebration because it meant more money for them during tip outs. And most importantly, celebrating you getting the justice you deserve...along with the possibility of you coming back.

"That was something I should've done way long ago," Eddie sighs as he hands you your phone back. "I hate dealing with legal shit."

"I'm sorry that they ended up being horrible," you frown.

"And I'm sorry that they ended up being horrible to you," Eddie counters. "I really wish I could've done more for you. But up until now my hands were tied legally, honey. And financially."

"It was a sticky situation," you mutter. "But...I knew you had a favorite."

He kisses your forehead once more and you lean into him again, resting your head against his chest and wrapping your leg around his torso.

"Ow, ow, OW!" Eddie yelps.

"Sorry!"

You asunder again.

"You think you're gonna find enough dancers in time?" you ask him.

"We'll be okay four dancers short," Eddie assures you. "And besides, more tips for the other ladies when it comes down to tip-outs. They did Hellfire a favor."

Exactly what Chrissy and Nina were thinking.

"Speaking of Hellfire..." Eddie quips. "Does this mean you're coming back?"

"Only if I'm still welcome."

"Of course you are, babe," Eddie chuckles. "Everyone there loves you."

Your heart flutters at the forsaken "L" word, uttered with so much certainty and fondness.

"...including me," Eddie adds. "I love you, man."

You bite your lip to contain your excitement as you blush, giving Eddie a light punch across his chest.

"I love you too...man."

And as a way to poke fun at you, Eddie flashes you a "surf's up" sign with his non-crippled fingers. He puts on his most pretentious California accent possible, one he learned how to do from Argyle.

"Righteous...man."

And before it could get any more intimate, Chrissy makes her way into the room, reaching into her tote bag to give you something she's been holding onto since she arrived.

You watch as she unveils a familiar velvet garment — your cloak. She gives you a courtly bow as she hands it back over to you, symbolizing an end to your very brief retirement from Hellfire, and a permanent seat at The Party's table.

"You know Hargrove, I believe..." says Chrissy. "...that this is for you."

🏷️ tag list: @chrrymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @motherfckerr , @jxpsi , @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @mediocredreams @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123 , @redbarn1995 @angietherose @kiyastrf94 , @purplewitchcauldron @kellsck @joyfulfxckery @munsons-mayhem28 @dragonfire @emma77645 @drivelikenina @livosssblog @thinkingth0ts @hugdealer @ellielunamckay @xblueriddlex @maskofmirrors @babyloutattoo89 @queenofhawkins @feral-pumpkin-energy @bl0ssomanddie

[knightyoomyoui]

Dahyun x M/F Reader - "Die With A Smile"

NOTE: This story is inspired from the recently released song a week ago featuring a collab between two of tgreatest artists ever, Bruno Mars and Lady Gaga titled "Die With A Smile", just like the name of this story. Everything also that you're about to read are loosely based from one of the horror films I've watched and I thought about it as another fitting music video for this song if it features a storyline. So yeah, try to listen along while you imagine the story inside your head.

WARNING: Contains violence, expect gore and blood. 

(Ooh, ooh)

I, I just woke up from a dream Where you and I had to say goodbye And I don't know what it all means But since I survived, I realized

At the beginning of the song, a vivid image of hands separating from each other's grasp amidst the white foggy surrounding can be seen. The girl, revealed to be Dahyun, looks at you regretfully and heartbrokenly. She slowly lowers her hand just as her distance shrank.

You abruptly woke up from your bed, catching your breath. You rubbed your hair and face, groaning in reaction after having your precious sleep disrupted by that nightmare. The acoustic guitar from the intro is accompanied with soft "oohs" from Bruno Mars' sweet adlibs.

The next scene was you being alone in the dressing room, checking yourself out on the mirror with the exquisite tuxedo suit you got after what the tailor had made for the special occasion of your life. While straightening the fabric and the necktie wrapped around you, your face showed discomfort and fear after recalling those bothersome glimpses of the nightmare you had last night.

It was weird. Why did you have this a vision of seeing your woman, Dahyun, letting go and bidding goodbye to you? It's one of the worst things you wouldn't want to happen to you ever, especially since you and her are just about to embark into the next chapter of your love story together today.

You just shook your head to get rid of that ridiculous and unpleasant thought. It is better to remain focused on what's about to come today and only hope for the best, as you and her truly deserve it, just like every other wedding couple should. Calming yourself with a broad grin, you looked at the reflection of yourself in the mirror one more time before walking away.

Wherever you go, that's where I'll follow Nobody's promised tomorrow So I'ma love you every night like it's the last night Like it's the last night

On the pre-chorus, the scene shifts to the wedding currently being processed. The chapel was packed with lots of visitors. The priest was standing in front of the altar along with you, the bridesmaid, and your best man. Everyone present was looking at the door opening, revealing the bright lights from outside behind the figure of your lovely bride, Dahyun, in her breathtaking wedding dress and face covered in a white veil.

The next was you and her standing face-to-face in front of the altar. You kept on watching and listening to Dahyun give her oath for you, made from the words in heaven. Remembering what you just experienced a while ago before the wedding started may have gotten you curious about what it might mean, but you are certain that you'll do whatever it takes to prevent that from happening.

Adding another promise within your heart, mind, and soul, along with the oath you've taken before her, you swore that you'd be there by her side always.

The scene then cuts to the reception, where the visitors are now celebrating you and Dahyun being newlyweds. The married couple talked happily with your parents when suddenly the party was interrupted by a scream from one of the guests.

Your heads are directed to where it came from, and to your shock, one of your family's close-friend who is a veterinarian and an elderly guest of yours has his body now hanging dangerously on the terrace before he completely slips down, sending him down and crashing on the ground, which made everybody yell in surprise.

As the wife of the man who fell from the second floor came in a hurry to check on his condition, the man suddenly rose from the ground and pulled his wife closer. Everybody shouted in horror when the man started to bite his wife on the neck, which caused all of the guests to get back away from the strange couple. The beats of the drum at the end of the pre-chorus coincides with the shot of the man biting the bloody, torn skin and creepily staring at everyone who is looking back at him.

If the world was ending I'd wanna be next to you If the party was over And our time on Earth was through I'd wanna hold you just for a while And die with a smile If the world was ending I'd wanna be next to you

As the chorus began to play, everyone started running for their lives, which caused a stampede, which panickedly made you and Dahyun separate from each other. Both of you scream for each other's names in the middle of the chaos ensuing in the room. You ended up in the kitchen along with your cousin, Dahyun's sister, and the photographer for your wedding. Some of the guests who turned out to be looking infected with rabid behavior were located at the door.

The square glass in the middle of it got shattered, and Mr. and Mrs.'s hands started to sprawl out. You found a vent to hide in and intended to make everybody get in there before the door opened. After successfully entering the vent, you wondered why the photographer hadn't joined yet. Despite your panic, the photographer instead commanded the three of you to keep moving forward, as he confirmed that he couldn't fit inside the vent due to his size and that he'd be the one to block the infected off.

Appreciating his sacrifice, all three heads went on to escape. The three ended up outside and found a police car parked. Your cousin led the inspection, and it turns out there was a deceased policeman inside the driver's seat. While he did a closer look, the policeman suddenly sprung up and bit your cousin on the cheek, leaving you no choice but to cry in pity for your cousin and leave him there as Dahyun's sister forces you to continue escaping.

Through the final lines of the chorus, you and Dahyun's sister came to a halt when you heard Dahyun's voice speak over the speakers. The utmost joy and relief he felt after she ensured that she's currently fine was replaced quickly by surprise when Dahyun additionally announced that she's pregnant and she needs him right now as soon as possible. You proceeded to search for her afterwards.

(Ooh, ooh) Ooh, lost, lost in the words that we scream I don't even wanna do this anymore 'Cause you already know what you mean to me And our love's the only war worth fighting for

In the second verse, the scene then presents Dahyun on the other side of the story, being joined by the priest, her bridesmaid, and one of her closest friends. They hide in a surveillance room. As they discuss their plans, some of the infected guests arrive and see them through the glass panel on the wall.

They hurriedly left the room and were successful, unlike the priest, who had his coat caught by the hands of the infected. He hastily took it off from his body, but the force of the infected pulling the cloth made him slip while attempting to run, resulting in him facing the ground and looking at them frighteningly before he embraced getting eaten out by the infected.

Meanwhile, you arrived at the surveillance room 10 minutes later and discovered the mess that happened in here, and Dahyun is nowhere to be found. Viewing through the monitors, you and Dahyun's sister had a look at what seemed to be a festive and lively celebration transformed into a hellish, gruesome environment. You watched some of the lifeless guests get consumed by the now aggressive infected, and you have no idea how all of this became possible.

Realizing that this must be the dream he had now coming true in real life, you desperately wanted to come and save Dahyun immediately. Back at your wife's situation, Dahyun, her bridesmaid, and her friend stopped through their tracks when they unexpectedly met someone along the way.

Dahyun was distraught, recognizing her mother now being a completely transformed brain-eating cannibal. She stood there frozen, in disbelief at the horrid sight of her mother. It was about to charge at her, but the bridesmaid stepped up to snap Dahyun's senses back, killing the mother with a large branch of a tree.

Dahyun cried and begged for it to stop, but her friend came to comfort her. As the bridesmaid was about to be done, several infected people came towards her, and her distraction caused her to get bitten by them. They ran away, but the infected had their attention stolen when the speakers activated and played a familiar tune. Dahyun's expressed a tearful chuckle hearing their wedding song being played by you back in the room.

Wherever you go, that's where I'll follow Nobody's promised tomorrow So I'ma love you every night like it's the last night Like it's the last night

The second pre-chorus focuses on the scene where Dahyun and her friend locate a storage room in the middle of the woods, where they luckily find a chainsaw and a working TV. They switched it to a channel showing a news report about an ongoing contagious virus spreading through the main cities of South Korea.

Dahyun then learned that the virus was believed to originate from the combined effects of a hazardous chemical and strong signs of leptospirosis in a rat and rabies, which particularly were detected in a cat based on the statements of one of the survivors. Health authorities subsequently received a complaint about a certain veterinary clinic going wild, and the owner is currently being searched.

They found a huge metal lid beside the exterior of the room and opened it just as the infected spotted them on sight. They quickly opened it but had no other time to close it as they became closer. As they reached underground, Dahyun prepared herself by tearing off some of the cloth on the lower portion of her dress to help her move faster.

The drums from the instrumental hit hard and fast, matching the growing intensity as Dahyun and her friends stand on their places while they wait for the infected to descend one by one and launch at them.

If the world was ending I'd wanna be next to you If the party was over And our time on Earth was through I'd wanna hold you just for a while And die with a smile If the world was ending I'd wanna be next to you

The 2nd chorus plays right during Dahyun and her friend's killing spree through the infected, chainsaw slashing every limb, blood splashing everywhere, and an axe buried deep down through the bones.

Unfortunately, her friend got bitten on the shoulder while struggling to finish another one. As they managed to empty the sewer, Dahyun understood his request and was forced to kill him by slicing his head off with a chainsaw.

Meanwhile, you and her sister grabbed some armors and makeshift swords from of the displays inside the manor before sprinting as both explored across the hallways, avoiding the infected chasing you both along the way. Trying to fight them off with whatever foreign object could be seen, Dahyun's sister attempted to lure away some of the infected chasing behind but was overpowered as she got pulled and bitten.

Devastated, you complied with her subtle request to go after your wife. Dahyun saw a ladder through another lid, dropped her chainsaw due to its weight, and climbed it, but noticed that it was locked. She tries to bump it with all the strength she has, but is unsuccessful. Almost losing hope, you suddenly appeared in front of the lid, unknowingly ending up in the same area as her, much to her surprise.

Both of you said each other's names in delight but were cut short when an infected appeared below Dahyun. You quickly found a way to open the padlock just in time for Dahyun to exit and shut the lid to block the infected. 

Right next to you Next to you Right next to you Oh-oh

You and Dahyun exchanged stares and nodded in agreement. You took a few long breaths before removing your body weight to unblock the lid and gripping Dahyun's arm.

The instrumentals played loudly while you and Dahyun made a run for survival out of the estate against the horde of infected chasing your innards. Losing and decreasing some number of them with your defenses, you reached the garden together and continued your moment of rekindling with her, hugging Dahyun tightly.

A time like this will never allow anybody to have their sweetest moment to rest, not until this is all over. Dahyun got alerted at the approaching infected from your back that appeared on the corner of the bushes. She pushed you off and blocked herself with her arm as the infected lunged off for an attack.

She reaches off for your sword and slowly cuts her head off using it. She raises her arm and observed the bite wound she received and instantly demanded you to cut it off right away.

Despite your hesitation and concern, you grabbed your sword and smashed it through her laid arm, causing her to shriek and growl in immense pain.

If the world was ending I'd wanna be next to you If the party was over And our time on Earth was through I'd wanna hold you just for a while And die with a smile If the world was ending I'd wanna be next to you If the world was ending I'd wanna be next to you

At the final chorus, you and Dahyun have reached the front gate and noticed that all the metal bars are barricaded with plastic barriers. Both were fascinated to see that the authorities had quarantined the area.

As you stopped rotating after finding out where you had been led, what you discovered left you frozen in distress.

Dahyun glances at you with her crinkly lips, bleeding nose, pupils and eyes reddening, and teeth becoming grizzly. Based on the obvious signs of her infection, it means that your attempt to prevent the spreading of the virus across her brain has failed.

You lost any care anymore; she remains important to you just as much as the promise you made for her. Carrying Dahyun's weak and collapsing body in your arms, you walk ahead through the exit as personnel in hazmat suits watch the both of you make your way out.

The soldiers began aiming all their heavy guns at your emergence with your dying wife in your arms. Looking at her with pure affection and no disgust or terror, you shed a teardrop for her and kissed her on the lips.

It lasted for seconds until you felt a stinging pain in your mouth. Your eyes widen as Dahyun rips off your tongue. She stands in front of you, now posing in full infected form with amputated arm, yelling uncontrollably at the soldiers while you voicelessly suffer with your damaged mouth.

The soldiers immediately fire their bullets straight at both you and Dahyun. After they all emptied a half of their mags at your helpless carcasses, you and Dahyun crashed on the ground, front and back first, respectively.

Extending their arms one final time to crawl their fingers through the top of their hands and grab them with the last bit of strength left in their body. You and Dahyun held each other for a while until both finally died with a smile from their multiple wounds.

The song is already finished, and an extra clip features your eyes opening and rising from the bed again, cupping your chest and thumping fast. You stared at your hands, letting out a breath of relief, seeing the engagement ring on your finger.

Looking below to your left, Dahyun is still sleeping heavily beside you. You gratefully smiled at the sight of your fiancée being completely fine.

(Ooh, ooh) I'd wanna be next to you

Laying back down on the bed, you positioned yourself sideways to cuddle your soon to be wife in your arms whilst wrapping her delicate hands onto yours and kiss her crown.

You wished and prayed mentally for God's guidance that you can manage to keep her along with your future child safe and secured like this under your protection after the wedding tomorrow and so on.

Whatever scenario it may occur in the future, not even a virus that can cause an outbreak cannot oppose to the unbreakable love between them.

ADDITIONAL NOTE: Yes, it's a sequel to another one-shot featuring Momo from Set 4 titled "The Fight Of Our Lives", it shares the same universe and occurring at the same time as the predecessor. I know you are sharing the same name as your character with Momo, but let's just pretend that you're playing a different one with a same name as you.