#you remember when you read it and what the context of that time was?

[alchemistc]

Y'all were so insistent that I keep going with the Eddie Fixes It By Making It Worse post breakup fic.

This is officially a three-parter. Sorry. Or you're welcome.

You can read part one here

We have to make out in front of Tommy.

Buck's in the ice cream aisle, reminding himself that he has given himself three more days of moping and ignoring his diet before he gets his ass in gear and starts to live a life again. The Halo Top is mocking him, jeering and heckling as he goes for the Blue Ribbon. Mint chocolate, because Buck always loved it and he can almost forget the mock fight he'd had with Tommy three months in when he told Buck he refused to allow toothpaste flavored treats into his home, and how they'd barely gotten back to his place without a public indecency citation.

He stares at the text until his eyes cross.

What, he sends back, and slowly, cautiously, returns the pint of ice cream to its spot in the cooler. Maybe he should lay off the sugar. He's had enough.

Trust me

It comes in almost immediately and Buck tries to rewind, tries to figure out what any of this means, what the context is, why he's getting an actual Trust Me Bro from his best friend.

You've already met your last and it's not me comes crashing back to the forefront of his mind. He's had a full 36 hours to forget it, and he had been nearly there, nearly ready to chalk it up to Tommy trying to make him angry. Which he's been doing a really fucking excellent job of, lately. Almost like he knows all the buttons to push. Like Buck had given him the owners manual.

Tommy had meant Eddie? How could Eddie have possibly come to that conclusion? What the hell was he doing sending Buck half across town to the market for snacks when -

Buck judges the distance from this market to Eddie's. Then to Tommy's.

"Oh you mother -."

A woman squeaks by with her kid in the cart seat and glares.

---

Are you at Tommy's right now

No question marks. This is an accusation. Buck's thankful there are no perishables in his cart as he abandons it in the lane and hikes it towards the door. It's a dick move, and Buck feels, a little spitefully, like if anyone remembers him they'll remember him from the times he and Tommy giggled and play-fought down the aisles, so they'll think of Tommy when they think of the cart left behind. Resent him for it, maybe.

Not like Tommy isn't particularly good at just leaving things behind.

Yeah. Join me.

Buck breaks through the doors and feels a little woozy. This might be a panic attack. His chest fucking hurts.

🖕just get my stuff and meet me at yours. tell Tommy we burned all his shit

Eddie is an asshole. I'm not gonna LIE to the man. Also he definitely doesn't have an Evan box ready to go, so take what you will from that

Buck's still in that vicious cycle where he goes from angry to upset to sad in record time, no barriers in between, where every bruise feels like it's healing too fast so he keeps pressing in just to watch the color muddle. He hates this.

It'd be a Buck box, Buck texts back, just to release some of the pressure behind his temples, and he pulls in a few deep breaths before he jogs for the Jeep. He's gonna go home. Throw on the DVD copy of Sleepless In Seattle Tommy left behind and then maybe once that's done he'll throw the damn thing in a blender.

Are you coming or not?

Buck turns the ignition and peels out in a direction that won't lead to his own home, or the things Buck has been too much of a mopey bastard to pack up and return to their owner. At a red light two miles down the road, he shares his location.

Eddie sends back an ominous Hope you brushed your teeth today.

---

Eddie gets the door and it sucks just as much as if Tommy had. They barely ever spent time at Tommy's, and Buck can see it now for the boundary it was. When they had, though, their time had been split pretty evenly between Buck picking him up for a date, and Eddie wanting to leave the quiet echo of his own house to hang with them - a car on a lift and beers shared between them, Buck watching the pull of muscle beneath Tommy's shorts as he took Eddie down to the mat, Tommy's fingers drifting through the short curls at the back of Bucks head while Eddie yelled about triple-doubles and chatted with Tommy about how impossible coverage was for some guy named Joker.

Buck has never actually figured out who that guy was. Eddie hated the Mavericks and he hated the Lakers but Eddie also complained about the guy so much he definitely wasn't a Clipper.

Eddie gets him by the forearm when Buck shows clear signs of regretting this. Drags him through the front door before Buck can fully execute his spin and stomp back to the Jeep.

Tommy's next door neighbor had waved at him from her yard where she was doing something new with her display of bird sculptures, and Buck hadn't had the heart to do anything but raise his hand back.

It's less than ten seconds before Eddie is steering him down the hall, into the living room. It's cozy in here. Lived in. Mismatched furniture that somehow fits, a blanket thrown over the side of the couch, dark wood tables and light wood flooring and lamps that look like they came from an estate sale up in the Hills. A huge ass TV set above the mantle of a gas fireplace that Buck never even had the opportunity to see working before... Before.

Tommy is a shadow coming out of the kitchen, and Buck can't help but be a little pleased that he looks as crappy as Buck feels.

---

Eddie claps his hands together before either of them can get a word in. "Okay. Here's the thing. You're both dumbasses and there's a lot of shit that you guys gotta figure out on your own. But apparently you," he points at Tommy with the lip of a beer bottle. Corona. Tommy hates the stuff, and Buck is reminded once again how dearly Eddie loves him, "need empirical evidence that there's no deeply repressed sexual tension between Buck and I. So."

"You're insane," Tommy says, and Buck feels like snapping at him. He's probably right. This is an insane thing to do. Eddie ambushed his ex and then ambushed Buck in the frozen treats aisle and now he wants to kiss Buck to prove a point? What??

Eddie ignores it. Turns to Buck. "How do you wanna do this?"

And now would be the time, actually. Now would be the time to cut the thread, make it clean, break it for good. Only despite his protest, Tommy is staring between them and his expression looks almost... hungry. Frightened, at the same time. Oh. Oh.

He really had thought...?

Eddie's a fucking idiot. Buck doesn't want to kiss him. He's squared with the fact that he definitely had a crush when they first met and he's definitely been attracted to Eddie and just not realized it but he doesn't want Eddie. He doesn't want a life with Eddie, not like that. He doesn't- He isn't -

He loves Eddie more than almost every other person on the planet, but he's not in love with him.

Buck squares his shoulders. Nods. "Yeah, okay," and then he's taking three strides to meet Eddie at the coffee table.

---

"Oh come on, are you serious?"

Buck ignores the exclamation from the peanut gallery. Tries to figure out where to put his hands. He's never really noticed the height difference before. It's barely anything - a couple inches at most - but it feels like he's looming, this close. Which is stupid. He's been this close to Eddie a million times.

Eddie bends his knees to set the beer down. Darts his gaze back up to Buck.

Buck's seen him pull this move before, and has to bite down the urge to cackle because those big brown cow eyes have charmed women up and down California and probably plenty of Texas too but the only time Buck's ever seen them look genuine was when he was looking at Shannon.

He's got a good face. Angular in all the right places, expressive in a way a lot of men try to hide. Good eyelashes, clear skin.

Eddie gets a thumb in one of Buck's belt loops and tugs.

It's a good move. It's a move that has inspired Buck to sink to his knees on more than one occasion with the right men. Man. Just the one man.

He desperately bites back a giggle when the front of their thighs brush and Buck feels nothing more than the heat coming off Eddie.

Eddie's flushed, just a little, like he's well aware how ridiculous this all is, but he's got his I'm So Fucking Serious face on and there is a part of Buck, something fucked up and broken and wrong, that wonders how Tommy would feel to see it. To know that Buck is out there in the world kissing people who aren't Tommy. It's not like he'd ended things because he didn't care for Buck, because he wasn't attracted to him. It's gotta sting, right?

Buck gets a hand on Eddie's waist, just above his hip bone. He's never actually paid attention to how much more slim Eddie is, before, how big Buck's hands feel against him.

The night Tommy had first kissed him, Buck had spent an indeterminate length of time replaying every second of the interaction. The lead up, the frank honesty, the way Buck's entire body had followed the flow of Tommy's. Heart racing, body thrumming: when Tommy had ducked his head, when he'd laughed, when he'd opened up his body language and dropped a tiny morsel of his heart, Buck had felt himself drawn in.

The lips that had caught his had set him alight.

Eddie shifts his weight and blinks up at him and for half a second Buck wants this to be a good kiss - earth shattering, life changing. He wants to feel it. Wants it to be better than every kiss he and Tommy ever shared.

The pointer and middle finger he uses to tilt Eddie's chin up are petty as hell.

[candycandy00]

Once Upon a Time - A Choso x Reader Fanfic Part 1

Retold fairytales featuring the JJK men! This is Rapunzel featuring Choso! While gathering herbs in the forest, you stumble into the garden of a strange man living in an abandoned watch tower. He talks often about his three little brothers, but you’re beginning to suspect they’re no longer there. 

Read Sukuna x Sleeping Beauty Here!

Read Gojo x Cinderella Here!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Reader as Rapunzel. Reader has long hair (she kinda has to for this story) but no other distinguishing physical characteristics. Choso as a classic Yandere. Possessive behavior. Toxic love. Manipulation. Reader is locked up. Mentions of characters dying before the story began. Bondage (not used in a sexual context… yet).

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @benkeibear!

You bend down to pick some of the herbs you just found, carefully placing them in your basket. These will be perfect for several different medicines you make for the other villagers. You can’t believe what a treasure trove you’ve found. How have you never seen  this place before? 

The basket is feeling heavy on your arm by the time you finish, but you’re so happy with what you’ve gathered that you don’t mind the extra weight. You pick one last handful and turn to head back through the woods and to the village. 

That’s when you see him. A pale man dressed in black, dark hair pulled into strange ponytails on each side of his head. He’s standing directly in your path. 

“Why are you in my garden?” he asks. His tone is curious, not accusatory.

You freeze in place. This is a garden? And it belongs to him? You dip your head in a slight bow. “I’m very sorry, sir. I didn’t realize this was your garden. I picked a lot of your herbs,” you say, holding out your basket. “Would you like to keep them?”

He stares into your basket, then at your face. “What do you want herbs for?”

“I make medicines,” you tell him. “Tonics, ointments, all sorts of things.”

He’s silent for a moment, then asks, “Could you make some for me?”

“Of course,” you say, happy that he’s apparently going to let your accidental theft slide. “What kinds do you need?”

“Something for scrapes and cuts. I have three little brothers and they’re always getting hurt while playing in the woods.”

You smile. “Alright. I’ll make some and bring them back to you, as a thank you for the herbs.” You glance around the forest. “Where is your house?”

He hesitates for a few seconds, as if reluctant to reveal where he lives. You’re just about to offer to meet him here in a few days when he turns and begins walking through the woods. “Follow me. I’ll show you.”

You tag along behind him, waiting for a house to come into view. You really didn’t know anyone lived out here. But instead of a house, he leads you to a clearing with an enormous tower standing in the middle of it. 

“You live here?” you ask, using your hand to block the sun as you squint upwards, trying to see how high it goes. 

It’s made of stone, gray in color except for a deep red door and matching red shudders all the way up at the top. A window? But why so high? The grass around the tower is thick and unkempt, wild rose bushes climbing the sides, going at least thirty feet up. Red and white roses are blooming beautifully, making the tower look like something from a dream. 

When you step closer, you notice there are black roses blooming here and there. What an unusual color! 

The man opens the red door, made of heavy wood, and motions for you to come inside. 

You follow in behind him, finding a living area with chairs, a fireplace, a rug, and a desk.  Off to the side is a cozy little kitchen with a stove and a small table with four chairs crowded around it. 

“Do you live here by yourself?” you ask, looking around. 

He looks at you with a slightly confused expression. “No, I have three little brothers, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right! I’m sorry, I forgot.”

But the tower doesn’t look like three kids live in it. Things are too neat and orderly, and there’s only one place setting on the table. Maybe they’re just very well behaved. 

He notices you glancing around and says, “They’re out gathering wood for the fire right now. They’ll be home soon.”

You nod, then look straight up. “What’s up there?”

He follows your line of sight, tilting his head up. “A couple of bedrooms shared between us,” he answers. “This used to be a watch tower during the war. My brothers and I found it abandoned a few years ago and moved in.”

“That was fortunate,” you say. “I bet they love playing in this tower.”

He smiles, the expression lighting up the room. He has a really nice smile. “Yes, they love it here.”

You smile back, then start toward the door. “I’ll make some medicines for you and come back in three days. Is that alright?”

“Yes, that would be wonderful. Thank you.”

As you step outside, you turn back to wave goodbye to him. He waves back, and you leave. Walking back through the woods, you half expect to run into his little brothers, laughing and playing. But you never see another soul until you reach the village. 

In the comfort of your own home, you remove your bonnet and let the long ponytail slip down your back and hit the floor. Even with the ends looped around and tied at the top, your hair brushes the wooden floorboards as you move around the room, assembling your tools. Pans, bowls, a kettle of water set to boil, stone cups and mortars. 

As you begin your work, you realize you never asked the man for his name. 

Three days later, when you return to the tower, the man meets you at the door with a smile. He really does look so kind when he smiles. You wish he would do it more often. 

“I brought the medicines, uh… sir,” you say, holding up a leather bag. 

“Choso,” he says. “My name is Choso. And you?”

Feeling just a bit shy, you avert your eyes as you tell him your name. You’re not sure why you didn’t realize it last time, but he’s very handsome. Even the faint dark circles under his eyes can’t diminish his lovely face. 

“Come in, please,” he tells you, opening the door wider and stepping to the side to give you room. 

Once inside, you go to the kitchen and begin pulling the glass bottles of medicine from your bag and sitting them on the table. Choso walks over and listens intently as you explain their uses. 

“This one is great for scrapes and minor burns or cuts. Wash the wounded area first with warm water, then apply the salve. Bandage if necessary. This one here helps with a cough. Give them one spoonful before bed. Oh, and this one relieves itching from bug bites or rashes they might get from plants while playing.”

You pick one bottle with a purple colored liquid inside. “This will help them sleep, but it’s strong. Only a few drops into some water or milk, okay? Otherwise they’ll be knocked out all day.”

Choso looks at you warmly as you finish explaining them. Then thanks you again. “These will be a big help. My little brothers can be unruly at times.”

You look around the room. “Are they out today?”

Choso nods. “They went to fish in the stream nearby. They should be home later.”

“That’s a pity. I’d like to meet them someday,” you say. 

As you start to head for the door again, Choso places a hand lightly on your shoulder. “Wait. Would you like to join me for dinner? My brothers will be late, so I’ll just give them leftovers.”

Your eyes shift to the stove, where iron pots and pans are sizzling and steaming. You realize then that you can smell food cooking, and it smells delicious. There’s definitely some sort of bread baking, and you’re fairly certain an onion has been sautéed. They’re warm, comforting scents. They remind you of when your parents were alive. 

“Are you sure you’ll have enough?” you ask. 

“There’s plenty,” he replies, gently ushering you to the little round table and pulling out one of the chairs. “My brothers don’t eat much. You know how kids can be picky eaters.”

You sit down in the offered chair. “Alright then. Thank you.”

“Oh, thank you,” Choso says, filling a plate for you. “I haven’t had company for dinner in a long time.” He pauses, seems to think of something, then adds, “I mean I haven’t had a guest for dinner in a long time.”

You look at the plate filled with piping hot food that he sits in front of you. “This all looks incredible!” 

Choso fixes a plate for himself and sits down next to you at the table. “I hope you enjoy it,” he says before beginning to eat. 

Everything you try is divine, from the freshly baked bread to the fried potatoes with onions to the seared pork loin. You wonder how his brothers could possibly be too picky to enjoy this, but you suppose there’s no accounting for kids’ taste. 

After finishing your meal, you stay for a little while to chat with Choso. He’s not overly talkative, but he’s friendly enough, and seems to genuinely enjoy your company. He asks you questions about your medicine making, the village you live in, and eventually reaches the topic of family. 

“My parents died when I was sixteen,” you tell him, “and I have no siblings. My only relatives live so far away that I never see them, so it’s just me.”

His expression softens. “Don’t you get lonely?”

You place your elbow on the table and lean your face onto your hand. With your other hand, your fingers trace over a name childishly carved into the wood. “Yuji”. It must be the name of one of his brothers. You can imagine a little boy doing that, and Choso gently chastising him for it. 

“Sometimes I do,” you answer. “Sometimes I miss having someone to tell my problems to, or something fun or interesting will happen and I’ll want to go home and tell my parents, but there’s no one there. Most of the time I’m fine, but sometimes at night the house is so quiet, all I can hear is my own breathing, and it feels…” You stop and look at Choso. His eyes have a strange intensity to them as he stares at you. 

“I’m sorry,” you say, feeling embarrassed, “I shouldn’t have rambled on like that. You have your brothers, so it must be hard for you to imagine what I’m talking about.”

All at once his expression returns to its normal warm and kind one. “Ah, you’re right. I’m sorry for asking something so personal.”

“It’s fine,” you tell him. “I’m an open book. Ask whatever you want.”

“Really? In that case, why do you keep your hair so long?” he asks. 

You took your bonnet off to eat dinner, and it would be strange if he hadn’t noticed how long your ponytail is. You reflexively reach up to touch where it’s looped and tied at the back of your head. When loose, your hair drags far behind you. 

“My parents come from a very isolated clan, where a person’s hair is considered their spirit. Hair is sacred to us, so I’ve never cut it since I was born.”

His eyes seem to follow your hair from your head down to the floor. “It’s very beautiful,” he says. “I’d love to see it let down.”

You blush at that remark. He couldn’t know it, but in your parents’ clan, only your spouse is allowed to see you with your hair completely loose. Though your parents left the clan, they raised you to respect many of their customs. 

“Maybe someday,” you say with a faint smile. “Letting my hair down is a very… intimate thing.”

Choso’s pale face turns slightly pink. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay, you didn’t know. The clan was a bit strange.”

You leave later that evening, still seeing no signs of his brothers. 

Over the next few weeks, you visit Choso often. He lets you raid his herb garden in exchange for making medicines for him, and you always stay a couple of hours to have dinner with him and talk. 

Choso is still a little quiet, but he’s an excellent listener, always seeming engaged with whatever you talk about. The only topic that makes him chatty is his brothers. He loves telling you stories about their mischief. He clearly loves all three of them, but he seems to have a soft spot for the youngest, Yuji. 

But the more time you spend with Choso, the more you talk to him, the more you start to suspect something terrible. 

Maybe his brothers are gone. 

You’re not sure if a relative might have taken them in, or if they simply ran away to one of the nearby villages, or… if they’re dead. But you’re starting to believe they don’t live at the tower with Choso anymore. You’ve never seen them even once, despite visiting at different hours on different days. Choso always has plenty of food to share, and you’ve never seen any evidence of them still being there. 

You can’t ask Choso about it. Whatever the truth may be, it’s obvious that Choso doesn’t want to deal with it. He’d rather live the lie that they’re still with him than face the truth, and it’s not your place to try to change that. 

So you go along with it. You don’t act suspicious when he says they’re out playing in the woods. You don’t ask any questions about what they’ve been doing lately. It’s none of your business anyway, though it does make you sad. 

One night you end up staying at the tower a little later than usual, wrapped up in a conversation with Choso. When you head home, it’s dark out, and the woods seem a little creepier. 

You start to walk the familiar path to your village, but you hear a wolf howl in the distance. Another wolf howls, then another. It sounds like there’s a pack on the path you need to be on. Deciding to take the long way around, you step onto a different path, one that would take around the other side of the tower. 

On your way, you spot a small clearing. The full moon shines down through the trees, illuminating three identical objects. Stepping closer, you realize what they are. Small cross shaped grave markers. There are no names on them, but the fact that there are three sends a chill down your spine. Three graves for three little brothers? 

You can’t be sure, so you choose to ignore them for now. You’ve already decided to go along with Choso’s sad lie, so what’s the point of saying anything now? 

Continuing on the path, you hear wolves howling again. Are they on this path as well, or did they catch your scent and follow you? 

The air is unseasonably chilly, feeling like winter despite being early autumn. The trees are still full of leaves, and during the day their foliage creates a rainbow of lovely colors: golden yellows, burnt oranges, lush reds. But tonight, they just look dark brown. 

You wrap your thin cloak a little tighter around yourself and hurry along, hoping the wolves are farther away than they sound. Your footsteps are nearly silent on the soft forest floor. It rained yesterday, so the ground is still slightly damp, and the woods still have that earthy smell that always follows the rain. 

A howl again, stopping you in your tracks. Should you run? Or go back to the tower? You’re not sure which option is safer, especially in the dark. It’s hard to judge exactly where you are on this unfamiliar path. 

You hear a growl, and it’s definitely close. Close enough to make your heart pound wildly and the hair on your neck stand up. 

A twig snaps somewhere behind you, and more than one growl can be heard. It sounds like you’re surrounded! As the first wolf emerges from trees to your right, you let out a terrified scream. 

Choso is cleaning up after dinner, humming quietly to himself as he washes the plates he and his guest ate from. 

He finds himself smiling often these days, feeling happy and content for the first time since… 

No, he refuses to think about that right now. He has someone to talk to, to eat dinner with most evenings, to share things with. He’s not alone anymore. 

He’s never really had a guest before she wandered into his garden, and every day since he’s thanked the stars above for sending someone so lovely. She’s sweet and honest and talks to him about her life and seems to actually care about what he has to say. 

And she’s beautiful. 

Choso hasn’t been with a woman, or even been interested in one, in years. Before finding the tower, Choso sometimes sold his body to make enough money to feed his brothers. He didn’t hate it, but most of the encounters felt hollow to him. 

Now, for the first time since he was a teenager, he feels actual desire for someone. But he’s not sure how she feels about him. Maybe he can figure it out if he spends more time with her. 

A shrill scream pierces the night, causing Choso to drop the plate he was washing. A tiny piece of it chipped off. 

He pauses, listening carefully. He hears another scream, and this time he’s certain. It’s her. She’s in trouble! 

Terrible memories flash through his mind as he runs for the door and throws it open. Other screams, calling for Choso to help, begging to be saved as he ran toward the sound. This time, he’ll make it! This time, he won’t lose anyone!

He sprints through the forest, following her voice, tearing through the trees and ignoring the branches scratching his face. 

Another sound fills his ears. Growling and snarling, the snapping of teeth. He knows what makes those sounds all too well.  

As he breaks free of the tree line and onto a path, he sees her. She’s lying on the ground, curled up to try to protect herself, as a small pack of wolves circle her. In the small patches of moonlight, Choso can see that her cloak is torn and there are bloody marks all over her. There’s blood soaking into the dirt beneath her, and she’s alternating between screaming and whimpering. 

Choso yells at the wolves as he rushes forward, kicking the closest ones away. They turn on him, baring their teeth, but he glares at them with the sort of animalistic rage they can understand. They whine as they slowly walk away, leaving him to crouch down and pull her into his arms. 

“I’m here! I scared the wolves away!”

She looks up at him with a tear-streaked face, terror in her eyes. “Choso?”

“Yes, it’s me!” he assures her. “I’ll take you back to the tower to bandage your wounds. It’s closer than the village.”

With that, he scoops her up and carries her back to his home, lying her on a rug in front of the fireplace. She’s awake, thankfully, and fully alert. 

“I’m going to take off your cloak. Is that alright?” he asks. 

She nods, raising up to help him remove it. Then he begins looking over her wounds. They’re not deep, though they are bloody and look quite painful. Choso breathes a sigh of relief to know they’re not life threatening. Unless they get infected. 

He looks from the bite marks, mostly on her shoulders, hands, and calves, to her face. “We should really clean these,” he tells her. “But I don’t want to pull up your dress or your sleeves without permission.”

She gives him a weak smile. “It’s okay. Get some of the ointment I made for you. It should help.”

He leaves to get the ointment from the kitchen, as well as some cloth and warm water. When he comes back, her bloody dress is lying in the corner, and she’s sitting up on the floor in a thin but modest slip. It’s sleeveless, falling to knee length, and it perfectly reveals her wounds. 

Choso doesn’t take the time to stare or blush. This isn’t that type of situation. His only concern is bandaging her up and ensuring her safety. 

With her directing him, he cleans the bite marks and applies the ointment, then carefully wraps them in cloth. One arm had to be wrapped from shoulder to fingers, but the other only had a couple of scratches on her shoulder. Both calves had bites that required bandages, and one foot was bruised. 

Choso steps out of the room while she examines herself for any hidden wounds, and is relieved that she found none. When all is finished, they sit together by the fireplace. 

“Thank you for saving me,” she says. “Those wolves would have killed me.”

“I would never let that happen,” he tells her, looking her in the eyes. 

She looks surprised by that comment, but then smiles in that sweet way that has captivated him. “You’re a wonderful person, Choso. You know that, right?”

He feels himself blush a little. “I’m not. I’ve had… many failings. But I’m glad you feel that way.”

They talk a while longer, sticking to light topics that occasionally make her giggle. He thinks she’s marvelous when she laughs, like a bright ray of sun in his dark world. He can’t imagine his life without her in it. He can’t fathom going back to the crushing loneliness. If anything ever happened to her…

His thoughts freeze when she reaches up and begins untying her hair. He watches in stunned silence as she pulls out pins and thin ribbons, finally letting it all come pouring down, fanning out around her. It shimmers in the flickering light of the fireplace, almost seeming to glow. 

It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

Then he remembers all at once what she said about her hair before. Letting down her hair is intimate to her. It’s not something she does for everyone. Does that mean she feels comfortable with him? That she trusts him? 

He wants to touch her hair, to run his fingers through it, but he doesn’t want to offend her. Instead he stares at it in wonder. 

She looks a little shy as she asks, “Do you want to touch it?”

“May I?”

She nods. 

He reaches up close to her face and touches one shiny lock, moving his hand down to run over the fine tresses. It feels magnificent. But most wondrous of all is the look on her face: heated, flushed… aroused?

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells her, his face close to hers. 

You don’t know what you’re thinking. Letting your hair down? In front of a man who is not your spouse? Your parents would be turning in their graves. But in the moment, it just felt right. 

There’s no point in denying it to yourself any longer. You’ve fallen for Choso. When the wolves attacked you, all you could think about was how sad you were that you’d never get to see him again. These past few weeks you’ve spent visiting him have been your happiest since your parents were alive. 

And unless you’re reading him completely wrong, you think he feels the same way. So when he leans close to you and tells you you’re beautiful, your natural reaction is to kiss him. 

It’s not a deep kiss, just a soft, slow kiss to his lips. When you part, he’s looking at you as if you’re a goddess that has descended to earth. Then he kisses you back. 

In a whirl, you’re wrapped in each other’s arms on the rug, his hands in your hair, his mouth on yours, his body pushing against you. While kissing you, his hands move down to your shoulders and slide the straps of your slip down your arms. You feel the silky fabric glide down over your breasts, revealing them to Choso before the slip is pulled down your hips and off your legs, finally discarded near your dress. 

He pulls back to look at you with awe, and you feel like some rare treasure, almost too precious to be touched. Choso’s touches are so light and gentle, it feels like he’s afraid he might break you. So when he stares at your panties, clearly wanting to remove them but hesitating, you pull them off yourself. 

Choso removes his own clothing, displaying his surprisingly well toned body. You had no idea he was hiding such a perfectly sculpted torso beneath those loose fitting clothes. 

He eases you onto your back, then softly pushes your legs apart before positioning himself between them, a little too far back for what you’re expecting. Then he scoots back a little more, bends forward, and kisses your exposed pussy. 

The action sends a shiver down your spine, and soon you feel his fingers opening your slickened folds so that his tongue can reach the most sensitive parts of you. Your back arches off the floor as pleasure radiates through your body. His thumb strokes you, his tongue massages your clit, and one of his fingers slips inside you. 

“Ch-Choso!” you cry out between gasping breaths. His eyes flick from his work at hand to your face, but he never stops. Not even when you cum, trembling and panting. And soon enough, with his lips wrapped around that tiny little bundle of nerves, you cum for a second time. It washes over you, making your entire body tingle, your wounds forgotten and lost in a sea of ecstasy. 

He takes the time to lick up any juices, as if he can’t bear for a single drop to go to waste, before pulling back and sitting on his knees. That’s when you notice his erection, already twitching and leaking. 

You raise up and reach toward him, but he gently catches your hand and smiles at you. “It’s alright. You don’t have to do anything. It’s enough for me to know I’m giving you pleasure.”

It doesn’t look like it’s enough. He looks like he might burst. You slip your hand free and reach out again. This time he doesn’t stop you as your fingers brush over his tip. He sighs, his eyes closing, as your hand glides down his shaft. “I want to make you feel good too,” you tell him. “I want us to feel good together.”

His eyes open and he looks at you, a soft blush across his face. “Do you mean…?”

You lie back on the rug, your thighs parted. “Make love to me, Choso. I want to feel you inside me.”

His eyes shine in the fire light, and you think there’s only one word that could describe his expression: love. You look back at him, hoping your expression mirrors his. Because now you know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you love this man. 

You’re not entirely sure how this will all work out, if you’ll be able to convince him to move to the village and live with you, or if you’ll end up living in the tower with him. And you don’t even want to think about how to deal with his grief over his brothers right now. But you want to help him. You want to put in the effort required to make this work. 

He moves closer to you, crawling over top of you while bracing himself with his arms, ensuring he doesn’t let his weight rest on your body. Every move he makes seems to revolve around not hurting you, and you’ve never felt so cherished, so protected. 

He leans on one arm while his free hand moves down between your bodies, positioning himself. Then, he pushes in. In true Choso fashion, he’s careful and slow, afraid to cause you discomfort. You wrap your arms around his neck and look up at his face. He seems strained, as if he’s using all his willpower to hold back. 

“You’re not hurting me,” you tell him, pulling him closer. “Please, I want you deeper, harder.”

He hesitates for a moment, staring at your face. Then all at once he plunges in, all the way, making you gasp and tighten your grip on his neck. “Sorry,” he mumbles, but you shake your head, bucking your hips up to take him even deeper. 

When he starts thrusting, you moan out his name, your nails scratching at his back, your body rising to meet him each time. His bare chest brushes against yours, one of his hands at the back of your head, holding you snugly, his fingers laced in your hair. 

“I love you,” he mutters into your ear. “I love you so much!”

You shudder as he hits an incredibly sensitive spot. “I love you too, Choso!”

He thrusts faster, deeper, groaning when you clench him. His body is scraping across you, creating delicious friction against your clit, making you whimper into his shoulder. 

Within minutes, you cum again, squeezing him tightly, almost sobbing. You feel so overwhelmed with pleasure, with love, that it feels like you’re unraveling in his arms. 

A little after, you feel Choso pulsing and twitching within you before strings of hot cum fill you up. You stay latched onto him for a while, reluctant to let go and be out of his arms. 

When you finally part, you both sit in silence, only breathing, until the two of you regain your strength. Then Choso helps you clean up before sitting back down on the rug beside you. 

Feeling a little awkward after all of that, you decide to make light conversation. 

“I think I can make it home tomorrow,” you say. “I have a lot of medicines to make. The villagers can get impatient. Would you like to come visit me sometime? I can show you how I use your herbs.”

He looks at you for a moment, a strange look on his face. “Are you sure you should try tomorrow? You’re still hurt.”

“I think I’ll be alright, thanks to you. None of the wounds hinder me from walking.”

He’s silent for several seconds, then says, “The wolves might come back.”

“I don’t think they’re as active during the day,” you reply. “Maybe you could walk me home.” You add the last part as a way to invite him. You really hope he’ll take a liking to the village. 

He smiles, but there’s something off about it, as if the emotion isn’t genuine. “Sure. I can walk you home.”

Did you do something wrong? He’s being strangely closed off. He seems to be avoiding your eyes as he stands up. “I’ll fix you some tea.”

You nod, suddenly feeling insecure. When he returns with the cup, you’re so distracted that you barely glance at it before taking a long drink. 

Maybe, if your mind hadn’t been elsewhere, you would have noticed the strange smell. But even so, you definitely notice the taste. How could you not? It comes from something you made after all. But why would Choso put the sleep aid medicine in your tea? And if it’s strong enough for you to taste this clearly, he must have used way too much. 

Oh no. This will knock you out for at least a day! 

As your vision gets fuzzy, you drop the cup and try to look at him. “Choso? Why…?”

His face looks pained. “I’m sorry, but it’s too dangerous for you to go home. Let’s wait until you’re healed up, okay? I’ll take good care of…”

You black out before you hear the rest of the sentence. 

When you awake, you’re lying on a straw mattress on the floor of an unfamiliar room. There’s a blanket over you and a soft pillow beneath your head. 

You sluggishly pull the blanket off and sit up, holding a hand to your head. You feel groggy and tired, your muscles sore. Looking down at yourself, you see that your bandages have been changed and your slip, the only clothing you have on, has been washed. 

But most alarming of all is the metal shackle on your ankle. There’s a long chain attached to it, so long that you can’t yet see the other end. Underneath the shackle, strips of cloth are tied around your ankle, probably to keep the metal from bruising your skin. 

You get to your feet and look around. The walls are gray stone. There’s a small dresser and mirror off to the side, a shelf lined with books, and the mattress you just got up from. On the dresser there’s a basket of fresh fruits and nuts that can be found in the forest. And on one rounded wall, a pair of deep red shudders. 

Gathering your strength, you walk over to the shudders and open them. As you suspected from the minute you stood up, you’re in the top of the tower! You look down, the cold wind hitting your face and blowing your hair around wildly. It’s a straight drop, not a single foothold in sight. 

You glance at the only door in the room, noticing the numerous locks attached to it. The terrible truth sinks in to your drowsy brain. 

You’re trapped here. Choso has effectively taken you prisoner, and you have no idea why.  

[earlgreytea68]

its just one of those days where ive had coffees for closers on repeat

sighhhh

have u ever done an analysis of the song? if not what r ur thoughts?? hope ur having a good day btw xx

Ugh, this song is such a gutpunch. I've talked about it briefly in the context of how it reworks lines from Pete's poem "to you (unfinished, off the top of my head)" in THE MOST PAINFUL WAY POSSIBLE:

He does the same thing with the lyrics he borrows for (coffee’s for closers). Pete’s poem sets the tone for fairy-tale storytelling right at the beginning: “It all started with some friends and a van, a kick drum inside my ribs, preaching electric into a microphone stand.” These beginning images are fond: holding up red cups at house parties, falling asleep together on the grass during festivals, laughing. But Patrick carves those lines out and brackets them with “I will never believe in anything again, we will never believe again.” What an answer to this poem out of Patrick: to take those words and slap them between endless proclamations of not falling for that fairy tale again. Even worse, he tops it off with a rewrite of the “read the charts” line: the poem reads “you can get lonely when u only read the charts.” This feels like more on the theme of “you can get everything you want [but it’s never enough], but it won’t actually make you happy.” You can read the charts, and FOB would be on top of them, but it’s lonely up there, and you need more than that. But the line in (coffee’s for closers) goes: “Only get lonely when you read the charts.” The movement of that “only” shifts the line for me. There are a bunch of ways to read it, but for me it reads like: “You only get lonely when you remember you’re in a band. You’re so busy running around being the life of the party, you’re never, ever lonely unless you’re paying attention to your band.”

The thing is, I consider that poem a fond and wistful love poem from Pete to Patrick, trying to reach across a great chasm, and at first the pain of it is how Patrick initially writes songs that take those lines and rejects them, twists them, spits them back out. Eventually he doesn't. Eventually he soothes the lines back into answering love songs. But in the beginning, he writes songs that are fiery rejections of the mood of this poem, and (coffee's for closers) is one of them. Pete's poem reads all us believers still believe. Patrick in this song writes, over and over and over again, slamming it home, I will never believe again. Take that, Pete Wentz! Never! Again!

To me it's just a brutal song about hating how everything turned out but not seeing a way out of it (I want everything to change and stay the same). The Genius annotation says throw your cameras in the air is about how people always film concerts these days, but I think that's wrong. I mean, maybe, although the song was written in 2008 when cell phone taping was still a fairly new phenomenon. But I think this line is really a rumination on fame, on feeling like everywhere you look there are cameras in your face, and it's not about concerts, it's about your life. Girls used to follow you around...until you got cold, and you were no longer the current big thing, and then it's lonely there in the spotlight, where no one's having a good time, the hands they wave in the air are all cameras pointed at you, hoping to catch the next mistake, and everything that was supposed to be good and great, all those pretty promises Pete Wentz made back in the summer fest days when you fell asleep on the grass turned into this. You've become something I don't even recognize, and I'm just your mascot, some laughable gimmick everyone makes fun of, and you love the mayhem more than the love that was all around you, you threw all that love away like you didn't even want it, and I will never believe in anything again. Change will come, and nothing good is going to come of that, either, because you don't like things the way they are but you know that changing them isn't going to turn out well, either.

This song is just so much. It's so angrily hiatus. It's such a demonstration of how much they had broken down around each other.

But it's okay. Because on the other side of it, eventually, Patrick takes this same poem and makes it into "Favorite Record," so it turns out all right in the end. Happily ever after (below the waist)

[despairots]

DILUTE ME!

this is meant for older audiences, but if you are under the age of 18, i can not stop you from reading this.

story contains: light suggestive themes, yandere themes, ren/[REDACTED] should be a warning itself, mentions of murdering, etc. reader is a bit timid and shy when with [REDACTED] in this but they’re usually sultry and sweet.

context: yandere! reader gets over their sick and twisted ways of showing their love but finds it hard to keep it in once getting with their partner. gn! reader

you didn’t know what lend to this. you swore you got over the tendencies, the habit, the absolute anger you’d feel once you see another person that’s not you making a move on what’s supposed to be yours. why did he let this happen? why was this girl flirting with him infront of you?

your lips pulled itself into a tight line, your face pulling a look of absolute disgust, keeping the thought of bashing her head into the brick wall at bay, but how long could you keep it in until you just gave in and did every horrible thing possible to her?

god, how much longer will she try? actually, why hasn’t ren said anything yet? your eyes shifted from her figure to his, catching every detail of their face snd engraving it into memory. it didn’t matter how many times you do it, they look better every time you do.

your mouth went to open before it shut when she let out an obnoxious laugh. your eyebrow twitched, clutching onto your boyfriends hand even tighter, biting your tongue back. please, please, please, you thought you were better than this. unfortunately, you’ve went back to your default settings.

“leave them alone, you tramp.” you muttered under your breath, letting her only hear it (not knowing he picked it up aswell) before you scoffed at her and pulled ren away. mind was racing with different ways to dispose of her, as ren could only stare at you with puppy eyes.

back to your shared room, you stripped yourself out of your clothes, digging through his clothes and putting them on. any sort of reminder of them as you kept going back to the girl who kept flirting with them. who the hell did she think she was?

ren saw the way you glared at her, saw the way you bit your tongue back to snap at her when she got a little close, they loved it. now, watching you mentally mutter insults to yourself about that unknown whilst in their clothing, all he could think about was you.

how your scent would linger in their clothing, how you were so willingly to strip in front of him and wear their clothing. you looked so small in it, compared to him. ren watched you turn your back away from them, a slight twinge pulled at his chest. were you mind at him?

“are you mad at me, angel?” one of their hands lifted his oversized shirt on, trailing their fingers up and down your back, feeling your smooth skins and the way you shivered from his touch. “i—i’m not mad at you.” the way you ended your sentence with venom made him smile a bit.

ren trailed their fingers over to your stomach until wrapping his arm around it and pulling you back to his chest, hearing you yelp at the sudden pull. from this position, ren could see the growing blush from your cheeks as you tried hiding it in your arm and pillow.

“did… did you think she was cute?” their real name slipped from your tongue, and he couldn’t help but pull a face of disgust when you asked. she couldn’t compete to you in any other way. ren kept a note in disposing her later once you fell asleep, they didn’t want you to think he was attracted to her.

ren placed small kisses onto the back of your neck, hearing you breathe softly each time he made in contact with your skin, “you’re all i want.” their voice was muffled against the crook of your neck, as you flipped around and placed a gentle hand on his cheeks, a soft smile on your face.

“go to sleep, okay? i promise to give you treat later. remember? poorly behaved dogs get not treat.” fuck, that was hot. once you say that, there was no turning back, the both of you would last hours. ren’s eyes widened until their lips pulled into a light smirk, his hand going to the back of your head and pulling you into a deep kiss.

your hand slid down to his chest, finding itself slipping underneath their clothing and resting it there. a light moan escaped your mouth when ren took control, his tongue slipped into your mouth, marking every inch of it until they pulled away, a string of saliva a reminder.

ren went back to placing kisses on your neck, sometimes nipping at it if he felt a like a tease, grinning whenever you would release a small whine. your hands played with his hair, waiting until he fell asleep to execute your plan. a devious smile pulled onto your lips, hearing the breathes of the one you love.

you pulled away lightly, making sure you didn’t wake them up as you placed a pillow to be a substitute for you until you came back. this will be the only time you’ll resort back to your old ways, dressing in all back, grabbing a pair of latex gloves and a box cutter. as much as you wanted to do worse, this will have to do.

finding her wasn’t hard to do, she was walking around clearly under the influence, and you couldn’t help but snort at how stupid of a bimbo she was. you dragged her back to a secluded spot, keeping a hand over her mouth as you tossed her to the ground and went to stab the box cutter deep into the side of her neck.

you stayed in that position, maybe pushing it into her neck deeper for safety measures (when really you just wanted to get in more stabs). you pushed her to the side, putting the box cutter into your pocket and pulling the black mouth mask down, a judging look on your face.

disposing her body was easy, killing her was easy too— everything was easy actually. you didn’t need to do anything extreme to get rid of her. you quietly sneak back inside your home, stretching your limbs and taking the gloves off. you opted to throw the box cutter away but decided to keep it as a reminder that you had killed somebody again.

a pair of arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back to something as a half scream half yelp was muffled when a hand came to your mouth. you thrusted around… until a familiar voice whispered into your ear, “now where were you, angel? did’ya really leave me to solve my own problem?” you knew what he meant by problem but that didn’t bother you when you remembered you were covered in blood.

“ren— let me go—“ their hold against you tightened, they took a piece of your ear into his mouth and nibbled on it, “so, how’d you kill her? stab her? strangled her? come on— you could’ve left her to me!” the way he said it sent a chilling shiver down your spine; what the hell did they mean?

he turned you around, wiping off some excess blood on your cheek with a lovesick smile. god, you looked so good like this. “what are you talking about?” you whispered, ren’s lips inches away from yours as their eyes flickered from your lips to your eyes.

“y’know what i’m talking about.”

your eyebrows were pulled into a frown, why isn’t he finding this weird? “you’re not disgusted by me?” ren let out a sigh, his next words being muffled by your lips, “i can never be disgusted by you.” you pulled away slightly, lips parted and pupils blown out, eyes flickering from their lips to their eyes nervously.

“but i killed someone…”

“and i enjoyed every minute of it.” the way ren said it made butterflies flutter in your chest, but yet you still felt disgusted by yourself. you promised you wouldn’t resort back to your old ways, yet you couldn’t help yourself. the way she decided to flirt with him in front of you, made you want to feel the same feeling you’d get whenever someone decided to get too cozy with something that was yours.

ren noticed the lack of words, bringing you into a comforting kiss, feeling you relax in their hold as you slowly kissed back. knowing the extremes you’d take for him, he couldn’t help but feel flattered that you’ll do that for him.

“come on, how ‘bout that treat i’m supposed to be getting?” ren shoved the black sweater off you, lips still interlocked as they placed their phone on the kitchen counter,

… as photos of you stalking and killing the women appeared on his phone.

[marypsue]

I freely admit that this post is more propaganda to try to get people to consider using a book journal than me actually believing that People In General keep book journals, but consider: keeping a book journal.

[maxiwaxipads]

Romarriche - “Your company is one of a kind… I would never lie to you. I would never say a half-truth or be quiet.” “What is it in your mind, Merold?” “Hearing your voice, complaint or not—it is music to me either way.” Merold - “If there is one constant in this world… Let it be you.” “You’re the cruelest and the kindest thing that happened to me.” “…If only you continued to look at me like that.” Romarriche - “…Merold?” Merold - “But~ It’s only a minor case of bad-mood-itis.” “So Romarriche, spoil me with a spar, will you?” Romarriche - “Merold.” Romarriche - “Look at me.” Merold - “…” Romarriche - “Is something… Wrong?” Merold - “Instead of a spar…” “I might want to lie down on your lap after all.”

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2024: August Wrap-Up.

Hey, would you look at that, it's suddenly September! Rude and uncalled for. This month, I did a lot of knitting (two sets of gloves and two hats! gearing up for holiday season), and a LOT of writing (finished the first 16k draft of a scene, who???), and read uh. Some. I didn't finish a ton of books, but I did make it through what felt like a ton of pages.

Two-thirds of this month's reading were post-apocalyptic-community-oriented, on purpose, to feed into my current writing project, and that worked really well--either I'm very good at choosing books that match the vibe I need, or my ADHD brain is good at making connections, OR a little bit of column A, a little bit of column B. Photos and/or reviews linked below:

GHOST STATION (pages-out stand-in book pictured above, because I checked it out from the library after canceling my paperback pre-order, which was a good call) - ★★ This was very bad. Bad science, stupid incompetent characters, JUST enough neat worldbuilding to make it FRUSTRATING that this missed so hard. I'm bummed because I wanted to read DEAD SILENCE by this author, too, but I don't trust her now :(

ALWAYS COMING HOME - ★★★★½ Loved this!! Dense and chewy, and it required a lot of patience, but it was very rewarding and I'm really glad I read it. My absolute favorite passage was about scrub oaks, but I posted a few other highlights and tagged them as "le guin posting," if you're interested! If you like Le Guin and/or utopias and better futures and/or huge books that push what it means to Be A Novel, check this out for sure.

ARCHANGELS OF FUNK - ★★★½ So. I didn't realize that this was attached to a few other novels she's already written. And I read it cold (oops). Goodreads informed me that it was Book #2 of Cinnamon Jones, and review-diving indicated that REDWOOD AND WILDFIRE is also implicated in its worldbuilding, but that didn't stop me because I can't read. I would like to revisit this one after I've read those other two, I think, but!: The community and vibes and Making Art At The End Of The World were all immaculate, and the character names made me feel vindicated in some of my own naming conventions (seriously: there's an Indigo in this, and a Game-Boy, and Hawk, I can't make this shit up).

Under the Cut: A Note About ~*★Stars★*~

Historically, I have been Very Bad™ about assigning things Star Ratings, because it's so Vibes Heavy for me and therefore Contingent Upon my Whims. I am refining this as I figure out my wrap up posts (epiphany of this month: I don't like that stars are Odd, because that makes three the midpoint and things are rarely so truly mid for me)(I have hacked my way around this with a ½). Here is, generally, how I conceptualize stars:

★ - This was Bad. I would actively recommend that you do NOT read this one, no redeeming qualities whatsoever, not worth the slog. Save Yourself, It's Too Late For Me. Book goes in the garbage (donate bin).

★★ - This was Not Good. I would not recommend it, but it wasn't a total waste or wash--something in here held my interest/kept my attention/sparked some joy. I will not be rereading this ever. Save Yourself (Or Join Me In Suffering, That Seems Like A Cool Bonding Activity).

★★★ - This was Good/Fine/Okay/Meh. I don't care about this enough to recommend it one way or another. Perfectly serviceable book, held my interest, I probably enjoyed myself (or at least didn't actively loathe the reading). I don't have especially strong feelings. You probably don't need to save yourself from this one--if it sounds like your jam, give it a shot! Just didn't resonate with me particularly powerfully. I probably won't reread this unless I'm after something in particular.

★★★½ - I liked this! I'll probably recommend it if I know it matches someone's vibes or specific requests, but I didn't commit to a star rating on Goodreads. More likely to reread, but not guaranteed.

★★★★ - I really enjoyed this!! I would recommend it (sometimes with caveats about content warnings or such--I tend to like weird fucked up funny shit, and I don't have many hard readerly NO's). Not a perfect book for me by any means, but Very Good. This is something I would reread! Join me!!

★★★★★ - I LOVED THE SHIT OUT OF THIS, IT REWIRED MY BRAIN, WILL RECOMMEND TO ANYONE AND EVERYONE AT THE SLIGHTEST PROVOCATION (content warning caveats still apply--see 4-star disclaimer). Excellent book, I'll reread it regularly, I'll buy copies for all my friends, I'll try to convince all of Booklr to read it, PLEASE join me!!

[sysig]

Special Counseling (Patreon)

[edge-oftheworld]

sometimes you’re having a normal day. then sometimes you meet someone who worked at norwest

[pochapal]

Oh yeah, remember to do the Tea Parties and ??? chapters after each episode, they're important.

i have no clue what these things are so instead of thinking about this i will pretend that this information does not exist until the time when i would learn about it naturally. (not trying to be mean or anything but this is skirting very much into spoiler territory! things are more fun when i figure things out/approach them at my own pace and in my own time!)

[probablyaseamonster]

My paranoid ass, thinking I'm gonna get murdered at any time any time I go outside but even sometimes within the house, getting back into TMA because "nooo, it won't affect me" *pointedly doesn't listen to s1 episode 3 on rebinges*

Goes to the bathroom at 1 AM (the night is the only time I'm actively safe that's my excuse), housemate left the window open (not such an issue now that it's spring), *fucking distorted noise that seems logically to be emanating from a car but is NOT A FUCKING CAR SOUND IN ANY SETTING and also sounds stupidly fictional like a common SFX to boot*

"Ah, so this is when I get killed. They gonna frame this as a suicide aren't they. And goddamnit my hair is doing the anime mom thing I explicitly do Not want to be the fridged trope but I guess my protests were always ignored. I wonder if I have time to write up a will or if they're coming any second"

And being CHILL about that shit-?

[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

Language Barriers

Based off the idea that Yuu doesn't speak the same language or have the same culture norms in their world!! Got inspired for once

Content Info: GN!, 4.6K words-ish, Fluff/Comedy, Platonic except in Kalim's, Aztec refs in Leonas, NSFW jokes in Heartslabyul, Staff being parents, Trey bullying

Characters: Mozus Trein, Divus Crewel, Dire Crowley, Ashton Vargas, Sam, Riddle Rosehearts, Trey Clover, Cater Diamond, Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Grim, Leona Kingscholar, Kalim al-Asim, Jamil Viper, Vil Schoenheit

***

***

Since your arrival in Twisted Wonderland, you have begun to grasp the language and culture of this world. For the most part, at least.

You remember as clear as day when you first arrived, the pure confusion of the Headmage and those around you. Words from your lips were pure gibberish to them. They stared at you like you were an anomaly— and they were right. You are one.

‘Glitchy’ is the term they have used to describe your voice. “It is as though the sound around you warps everytime you speak.” The Headmage— Crowley— said.

The man had given you a necklace alongside an old dorm he housed you in. It was a simple looking necklace. A small mirror charm dangles in the center of it. Subtle enough to not draw attention to it.

It wasn't just a necklace however. It was a translator, a universal one.

The ‘glitches’ from your mouth had stopped and became the strange sounds the natives here spoke. Still, the necklace is just a buffer. Just because you can understand them doesn't mean you know what they're saying.

You still do not know the slang, the culture, the phrases, the grammar. Words still slipped your mind. You swear all you can hear is gibberish at times– and honestly you don’t doubt it occasionally is when students want to mess with you. You still had a lot to learn and there have been many miscommunications along the way. All part of the journey you suppose.

The staff here weren't coddling at all but they were accommodating. They made it clear that they favored no student more than the other. (At least that's what they claim.) But they also understood that holding you to the same standard would be unfair.

Mozus Trein

Professor Mozus Trein was a blessing when it came to learning about this world. His history classes made understanding this place easier. Trein would even give you extra context with his lessons to help you understand the everyday things and universal knowledge that you are unaware of.

His standards for your essays were different. He was no less strict on you but he was reasonable. He could tell that you truly understood the concept and put effort into your papers despite the language barrier and he is not going to punish you for learning.

You would get your paper back with a high grade and a page of corrections with explanations for each one. Why this comma here wrong. Why this was the wrong conjugation of that word. How this sentence could be improved.

“Excuse me, Professor?” You test the words as you speak them, accent slipping out. Trein looks to you from his desk. "Yes?”

“This word here is marked as wrong, but I remember you saying ‘I before E except after C.’” You tilt the paper to him and the older man adjusts himself on seat.

“Let me see here…” Trein paused to read the paper, expert eyes scanning for any potential mistakes. “Ah I see, that word there is an exception. ‘Sovereign’ doesn't follow that rule.” He closed his eyes as he explained and you nodded in understanding.

“I see, so I just have to memorize it. Are there any other words like that?” You didn't like how Trein seemed to frown as he thought about it. He hadn't realized how many there were. “Yes there are. A lot more than I anticipated I’m afraid,” a sigh escapes his lips and he shakes his head.

“I will not hold this against your grade since you have been improving with each assignment. Little mistakes like this will be forgiven so long as they are not repeated. Allow me to adjust your grade accordingly.”

You tilted your head as your B+ went to an A-. A small smile decorates your features. Trein nods to you and hands you your paper back. “There you are then. On to you next class.” You turn to leave but are stopped by when he speaks again.

“You should be proud of yourself, Yuu. You are the hardest working student I've have ever had the pleasure of teaching.” You perked up and your smile grew as you were onto your next class.

Divus Crewel

Professor Divus Crewel’s classes were difficult for completely different reasons. Math and numbers were the same for the most part aside from some minor symbol changes. Word problems were the bane of your existence however. Thankfully Divus can see that you understand the math. He'll often pass you or only take half a point off if you use the wrong equation or misunderstand the question and such.

He also gave you a small private lesson about alchemy as well. Teaching you the basic terms and proper protocols that most students would have learned early in their education. He'd show how to differentiate the effects an ingredient would have by the prefixes of their names or symbols on the vial.

But most importantly he would help you socially. What you should dress like for certain events. The correct way to speak so you could sound like a native. Social cues.

And he would refuse to admit it but you were his prized pup over the rest. He may or may not have slipped you a few perfumes or clothing under the guise of “Crowley not providing enough” or “Taking stress off of you to do better in class.” You knew better though.

After all, how could he play off giving a coat similar to his? It was less flashy and more suited to your tastes. It wasn't obvious to anyone else that you matched him unless they really observed. Perfect to wear in his class.

He's always looking out for you. Making sure you are safe and secure. And should you get injured from another adventure, he is there with a potion in hand.

Dire Crowley

Crowley was the one that gave you the necklace and a place to stay. Though eccentric and a bit well… lazy, you couldn’t deny that this was a good display of his generosity. Even if he does make you work for it.

Crowley was a strange one. He'd gift you some magical object one day and then forget you exist the next. He’d help you with your paperwork for accommodations and then forget to approve of them.

One time he dropped off a stack of paperwork on you to do for him but still left you a huge comprehensive guide that teaches you how to do each one. On top of that there was even a translation card meant to help you. If he put this much effort into these papers he'd be done by now. You assume he made this so he can drop more on you in the future. You swear he mentioned he's doing this to you to ‘prepare you for when you become the new headmage— er headmaster.’ Yeah right.

He'd give you dangerous tasks then become overprotective if any boy dare get too close to you. He'd help with anything but only if you stroke his ego. Yet despite it all he was still, as much as you hated to admit it, generous.

Despite everything, he has taken you in instead of abandoning you in this world. You swear sometimes he acts like a dad to you… When its convenient.

He's so annoying but you can’t find it in your heart to truly hate him. He may get you in trouble, but the moment it becomes too dangerous he steps in without hesitation to protect you and gives you a huge lecture after.

You hope you learn enough of the language to properly scold him.

Ashton Vargas

“Is this really necessary?” You ask the coach in front who re-wraps your hands tightly. “Absolutely it is!” The Coach's booming voice resonates in you as he pats you on your back rather roughly. “Give me another punch.”

You swallow and raise your hands again. You hesitate. “Come on kid you aren't gonna leave a dent in me!” You swallow and swing at his stomach. Vargas was right, he doesn't even flinch as your arm practically vibrates.

“That was a good form! I almost felt it.” A great guffaw rumbles in his chest. “Again!” Another punch, he looks down approvingly.

“Not bad, not bad at all. I sense a lot of potential in you, kid. That's enough for today.” You breathe a sigh of relief as you wipe your brow and unwrap your hands.

“Seems my training regiment is working, you're getting stronger by the day. Still— this on its own isn't enough. You need protein, kid! Lots of it. And you know what a good source of protein is?”

You stare at him for a moment. “Those uh…” the word slips your mind. “Chicken… capsules…?”

“Bingo! But they're called Eggs here Yuu.” Ashton puts a hand on his hip and makes a fist. “You should start with a dozen eggs per day and increase from there. I know that headmage can't be relied on to pay you in time, so I personally will deliver some bulking meals myself!”

“... Why are you doing this for me?” Your voice comes out a bit quiet as you speak. Ashton looks at you for a minute. “Why? Because you’re my student and I want to see you succeed. You got some serious strength hidden in you, and it would br a shame to see it wasted. Besides…”

As he speaks he starts taking down those punchy things, sandbags, you think. “The students here are quite rowdy. I want you to be able to defend yourself, especially since you don't have magic. You have to rely on brawn, Yuu! And I will be the one to awaken it.”

Vargas strikes a pose for a moment before relaxing. “Before you go I need to teach you some vocabulary.”

“Vocabulary…?”

“About your muscles of course!” The coach sat you down for a moment as he went into kinesiology. Micros and macros. Bulking. He broke it all down for you while flexing his muscles to emphasize his points.

“Now off you go Yuu, meet me here same time tomorrow, got it?”

Sam

Sam is a cool dude. You interact with him a lot. He never had an issue when you were first learning to speak. In fact he'd help you find the products you described to him. Of course he'd try and convince you to buy the more premium products but that's just business.

He'd even offer you a gig or two. His shelves don't stock themselves and his shadow friends wouldn't mind some extra help. Just know they can be a bit mischievous. While you were working you'd even get a small employee discount.

Even though your language has gotten better, there is still the occasional mix up.

“Ah, prefect! What can I do for you?” Sam queried while leaning on the counter top, delighted to see one of his favorite customers. “I am looking for… um…” You froze. What was that word again??

“The… white liquid?” You watched as Sam racked his brain for what you meant. “An invisibility potion?”

“No no! It's like… a juice?”

“Ah! I got it! Coconut milk!” The man snapped his fingers and winked. He frowned a bit when you shook your head.

“Wait here.” The shadow man watched as you ventured into the small smack aisle in front of him. Soon you took a bag of beef jerky and pointed to the small symbol on it. “What is this animal called again?”

“That's a cow.”

“Yes! I need the juice from it! The cow juice! What is its name? I forgot.” you perked up and beamed at him, hoping he understood. It all clicked for Sam, and he let out a hearty laugh at the realization.

“Do you mean milk, perchance?”

“Yes! I knew it had that sound! I need milk!” Sam chuckled again and waves his hand, sending a small shadow to retrieve some. “By the way would you be down to do some work tonight?”

“Tonight? Yeah, I can always use some extra cash.” The prefect was always so easy going. Guess they had to be in a place like this.

“Good. I'll apply your discount right now then!”

Heartslabyul

Your favorite Heartslabyul members have invited you to join them. Another Unbirthday party was to be hosted and the stars aligned today for the whole deck to help with the baking. It felt nice to be with them. They were like a family in a way, being with them felt like home. Alongside baking, there was some cooking being done too.

“Geez you really do like your eggs, huh?” Cater asked the spade who stirred his chopsticks with precision. He is determined to make the perfect tornado omelet.

“Oh you have no idea.” Ace tsked. “Whenever we go out to a restaurant it's the only thing he orders.”

“Not true!” Deuce's interjection wasn't as strong as it usually is, much to focused on his creation. “Yeah only if they dont offer any.” Ace retorts.

“Grim, it is unsanitary to touch the batter,” Riddle breaks up the impending argument to chide the direbeast ‘helping’ him stir, “Trey how many egg yolks do I add?”

“Three. You sure got it Riddle?” Riddle pouts a bit. He knows he got a shell in the batter last time but he's trying! “I'll get it right this time, you can count on it.”

“Ooh, give the egg whites to Deuce if you aren't using them!” Deuce mutters a thank you to Cater as he finishes up his omelet. “Does anyone else want one?”

No’s resound across the kitchen aside from you and Grim which makes Deuce smile. “Alright, what kind do you want Yuu? I'm still unsure on what kind you prefer.” Deuce looks a little embarrassed at not knowing despite how long you've been friends.

Before anyone could tease Deuce, Trey asks the worst question he possibly could without knowing. “Actually how do you like your eggs in the morning, Yuu? I rarely see you eat breakfast in the cafeteria.”

You pause for a moment, the pan you were greasing slipping slightly. Then you chuckled. “That's very bold of you Trey, I never expected you of all people to say that… But judging by everyone else's reaction, I assume it doesn't mean anything here?”

“Oh? Does it mean something different where you from?” Riddle asks, looking over at you. “It does actually.” Cater looks up from his phone he was reading the recipe from, noticing your amused expression. “What else could possibly it mean though?” You hold in a laugh. Perhaps this wasn't the best time to bring it up but you can't help it.

“Is that so? I sure hope I didn't say anything offensive. What does it mean?” Poor Trey; he chuckles as he decorates one of the finished cakes not knowing the storm that's brewing.

“You essentially just propositioned me in front of everyone.” The whole kitchen is silent as they stare at you. Trey looks flustered and confused out of his mind as an abundance of frosting squirts out of the bag. “I… pardon?”

Ace speaks first “Huh?! How does that make sense?”

“Proposition? What does that mean?”

“Don't worry about it Grim.” says the diamond. “Still that seems far fetched, it's rude of you to mess with Trey like that you know!”

“I'm not lying! It's actually what it means!” Trey is adjusting his glasses now, embarrassment growing. Riddle looks horrified, trying to find his words. He's trying to rack his brain for a response before deciding to ask about it. His voice comes out a little hesitant and unsure. “Are eggs part of some sort of courtship in your world…?”

“Um… sort of..?” At your words Deuce pales. Ace takes this opportunity to be a little shit per usual. “Wow! Seems like you have a chance then, Deucy!”

“Oh shut it Ace! Wait, have I been propositioning you this whole time?!” His face is red and he's hiding in his hands. He has offered so many egg dishes over the years. Oh God he must have made you so uncomfortable— this isn't what an honor student would do!

“I still don't know what that means…” Grim grumbles.

“No no! Offering eggs is fine, it's just that particular phrase has very different connotations in my world.”

Ace is snickering at the whole situation, but especially at Deuce’s panic. He's also just as confused, however. Trey finally has the courage to speak. “Um, how exactly does that mean…” He trails off, defeated. “I'm sorry Yuu, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable…”

“You didn't. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to tease you too much…”

“Okay, but how exactly does that mean that?”

“Yeah I'm with Cater on this one…” Ace adds.

“Enlighten me.” Riddle puts his hands on his hips, morbid curiosity getting the better of him.

“So… When someone asks that they essentially mean to say they're gonna invite you to spend the night with them and cook you breakfast in the morning.” Trey looks even more embarrassed but so does Riddle.

“So it's a sleepover? That's it?” Grim asks just to be waived off by Cater again who vibrating with laughter.

“That's a pretty convoluted way of asking…” Deuce looks to the side, also a little flustered. “Yeah it makes no sense for me either, and I'm from that world, but that is what it means…”

“Wow so Trey really is bold!” Cater snickers as Ace joins in with a “I never knew you had it in you.”

“Enough with this vulgar talk!” Riddle commands, clearly demanding the conversation to be over.

“I am never gonna live this down aren't I?”

Leona Kingscholar

I am gonna nerd a lil abt aztec mythology rn and I'm not apologizing

Herbivore is what he called you. It was meant to be an insult but you never took offense. There is no other creature that fights harder than prey that is fighting for their life or backed into a corner. If anything it was a compliment. You've seen how hard they can fight.

Yet today Leona took the title further. “You are honestly like a little rabbit. All this confidence and attitude, yet harmless.” You raised a brow at him. “Thank you.”

Leona's eyes shift ever so slightly. “You're taking it as a compliment?” You tilt your head. “I assume rabbit in this world is synonymous with fragility here…? Odd. They're a symbol of warriors back in my world.”

“Is that so?” Leona speaks boredly, but he doesn't excuse himself or tell you to shut up. “Yeah, rabbits are these mighty warriors that are completely invincible. Children of one of the 5 sin gods too. Nothing can kill them. Centzon Tōtōchtin are no joke. Odd how they're considered weak here.”

You think for a moment. “But they are known to be constantly drunk all the time and play around, so I guess that could be an insult…” Leona just rubs his head. “Take it however you want…”

Kalim al-Asim

“Look at all the stars!” Kalim exclaims, pointing up at the sky. He lands his carpet along the sand dunes, eyes full of wonder. He then looks to you with bated breath, waiting for your reaction.

“It's beautiful…” You whisper, overlooking the patterns of stars decorating the night sky. It was straight out of a painting, vast and whimsical. Kalim was glowing at your happiness. “Aaah, I'm glad you like it! I was hoping you would!”

You lean back against the ground. Shooting stars dart across the sky along the twinkling lights in a beautiful display. Your eyes land on the moon, admiring how different it was from your own.

“The moon looks beautiful tonight, doesn't it?” You freeze for a moment. “Haha, careful saying that to people from my world Kalim, not that you'll be running into anyone else from there anytime soon…”

Kalim looks over to you, brows slightly furrowed. “Eh? What do you mean?” You look back up the moon again. “Saying ‘the moon looks beautiful tonight’ where I’m from means I love you.” There's a moment of silence as Kalim ponders.

“Well then the moon looks beautiful tonight! I love all of my friends!” Kalim grins at you, fist pumped to his chest.

“It's not like that, Kalim. It's for romantic feelings. Funny, since coming here I've had a lot of experiences that would be considered flirtatious in my word…” You laugh a bit before a small frown appears on your features but Kalim snaps you out if it.

“So what you're saying is… it's a love confession?” His eyes are glimmering, the moon reflecting on them beautifully.

“You got it.”

“Then the moon looks beautiful tonight.”

Jamil Viper

So in TWST the languages aren't called the same thing in our world but I couldn't figure out the language of the Scalding Sands so I made one up. Can be a psuedo-prequel to my other fic Missing Yuu. It can be read here!

“Your Arabic is so similar yet so different than my world's version” Jamil pauses his mumbling and hums in question. “Arabic?”

“It's a language where I'm from. It sounds very similar to yours. Like I swear it could be some sort of dialect of it.”

“Scaldic, you mean?” You nod looking over at him from where you lay in his bed. “Is that what it's called? It's a pretty language.” Jamil messes with the stereo in his room, taking out an old CD and browsing for another he wanted to show you. “Maybe once you get more comfortable in this language, I can teach you a bit.”

“That would be lovely, thanks Jamil” As the sounds of shuffling continue from his search and you absentmindedly mess with your necklace before sitting up. “Wait! I know!”

Jamil perks and turns to you, watching as you start to take off your necklace. “Here put this on, you've shown me so much music from your world, let me show you some from mine!”

You offer the necklace over, shaking it a little for encouragement. Jamil takes it gently and examines the necklace. He lifts up his hair and slips it on, feeling a warmth on his chest from where the mirror lay.

You speak, and Jamil braces against the weird feeling of the necklace warping your glitched gibberish from your throat into his native language. “Can you hear me?” The words echoed in his head a bit. He took a moment to fully process them as they reverberated in his head.

He almost replies in his native tongue, but the amulet compels him to speak another language. Your language.“Yes, I can.” He replies, slurring a bit as he feels his words echo and warp. Strange… he knows what he's saying but he can't understand it.

“You have an accent, well that makes sense…” You chuckle a bit as he sits beside you, taking a moment to adjust to the sensation. “I never thought about how the enchantments on these worked. I assumed that it would be instant. Is this what it's like for you?”

“Crowley said it would probably be different for me cause I'm not from this world. See why I ask you to repeat things all the time? … thanks for not getting too annoyed with that by the way.”

You tap away on your phone for a moment. “Here we go, I got some songs in Arabic for you, look.” Jamil watches you press play and takes in the music. It was ethereal, so different yet so similar to his worlds. Uncanny yet compelling. Then the lyrics start and he furrows his brows.

“It really is like Scaldic.” he replies, closing his eyes. “Its like if I focus hard enough I can hear it in my own language, but I cant.”

“See what I mean?” Jamil nods. “I think I'm picking up some words though, but there's no guarantee the meaning is the same.”

“Yeah it's how I feel all the time here… its frustrating at times. Oddly enough there are some words that stay the same, mostly food for example. Like mahalabia or horchata for example.”

“Huh, odd how that works…” the music coursing through his body invigorates him. He can imagine all the potential ways to move to this.

“Yeah. And it's the same dish too— well sort of. It tastes so similar yet so different. I miss my world's food, but I'm slowly forgetting the taste of it. Its just vauge memory.” Jamil peers over to the saddened expression on your face. He never even considered that part of being from another world.

“... How about we listen to your music while cooking, then? I'm sure we can make something that tastes like home.” Your face brightens. “That sounds nice.”

Vil Schoenheit

“Thank you for putting up with my accent, it must be annoying to deal with.” You sip on the tea he offered you, trying your best to abide by the manners in this world. Vil merely looked at you.

“It's not annoying at all. Your accent is fine just the way it is.” He almost seemed disappointed by the insinuation.

“Ah… Sorry I just saw that Epel’s usually not allowed to use his accent around you, so I assumed I shouldn't either.” Vil sighs.

“That's different. You have already proven yourself strong and beautiful enough to be who you are. Epel on the other hand needs to learn to accept himself for who he is first before he can truly be the person he wants to be. He must prove to me he can love himself as he is. If I hated accents, I wouldn't have let Rook speak in his."

“Ah I see… Thank you.” It wasn't everyday that you get praise from the Vil Schoenheit. “Your speech has improved, though I may point out there are some words you may need to work on. Your accent may make it sound like you are talking about something else entirely. Hmm…”

You hold your breath as he thinks. “I want you to grow into the best spudling you can be, so how about you take voice lessons from me?” Vil seems to smirk at your surprised expression. “From you..?”

Vil nods. “Yes. This way you can grow more confident in your speech and vocabulary. That voice of yours is beautiful, it just needs to be tuned.” You look at your tea then to him. “I accept.”

[prokopetz]

I'm not gonna claim that most Tumblr polls are anything like rigorously structured, but I've seen a lot of folks rather smugly asserting that having a "not applicable" option that ends up dominating all other responses is evidence that the person who created the poll is incompetent, and y'all: under the specific circumstances in which these polls are constructed and distributed, that outcome is evidence of good poll design, not bad poll design. Yes, even when the "not applicable" responses outnumber all other responses ten to one. There are several reasons for that:

At the time of this posting, Tumblr polls have no "see response" button. The only ways to see a poll's distribution of responses are to wait for the poll to conclude, or to respond yourself – and not only are people on social media typically curious and impatient, many of them also know that there's no way they'll remember to check back later once the poll has concluded, so in practice, their opportunity to see the results is now or never. Adding a little note to the poll insisting that people who aren't part of the targeted demographic should refrain from voting isn't necessarily going to restrain that impulse. Indeed, it may end up encouraging folks who otherwise wouldn't have picked a random result-revealing response to do so, because fuck you, don't tell me what to do.

Many respondents genuinely won't realise they're not part of the targeted demographic until after they've voted. It doesn't matter how much text you add to contextualise the poll, because they'll read the poll first, and if they read the accompanying text at all, it's only after they've responded. Heck, a lot of folks don't even bother to read the question before responding to a poll; they just start going down the options and reflexively click the first one that seems like it might apply to them, then go back and read what was actually being asked (and complain in the notes if it turns out that they misunderstood). Even a well-meaning person can only comply with instructions they've actually read; for those folks, clicking the "not applicable" option is what compliance looks like.

Even folks who do fit your poll's targeted demographic can fall prey to the imp of the perverse. Giving the most accurate response rather than the most entertaining one can be a real struggle for a lot of folks; in scientific analysis of polling data, this is known as the "mischievous responder bias". In an informal setting like Tumblr, it's reasonable to suppose that the mischievous responder effect might be exaggerated compared to polls conducted in more formal contexts, and a well-designed poll is going to take that into account. A humorous "not applicable" option provides an escape by affording folks the freedom to screw around with the knowledge that they're not polluting useful data by doing so; in practice, the "I am a toaster" option is a mischievous response filter.

What this adds up to is that a poll where 90% of the responses hit the "not applicable" button is more likely to have yielded useful data than a poll with a narrow target audience where some unknown percentage of the responses represent folks not reading the instructions, clicking random options to see the results, and/or taking the piss.

[unicornpopcorn14]

So we all know by now that Dazai is comfortable enough around Chuuya to show nervousness/worry.

Enough times for Chuuya to pick up on that pattern. The pattern, may I remind you, that doesn't have evident correlation to either nervousness or worry to most people. One that can even be interpreted as misplaced given the situation.

Which means that Dazai has done this in front of Chuuya so often, that Chuuya at first was hella confused, before he finally made a connection between when and why it happens. And still remembered that connection after four years of separation. Which gets us to my point:

What if this isn't the only emotion Dazai displays weirdly?

What if he has multiple unconventional patterns he displays for sadness, frustration, content, or disgust? The times he really feels them, and they become too strong for him to just deal with normally? What if these are the only times he's actually being genuine with his emotions?

And Chuuya is the only one who is familiar with them all?

Dazai would be jumping rope and Chuuya would be like, "quit sulking, let's get icecream"

Dazai hanging upside down on the couch and Chuuya going, "It's okay, mackerel. You can cry."

Dazai actually crying, full on heart-wrenching sobs, and Chuuya unironically going, "What, good news?"

It's just... comforting, for one person in Dazai's life to read him like a book. Everyone else would look at him like he's crazy, displaying wrong emotions/behaviors at the wrong time, but Chuuya knows that it's just how he processes feeling properly, and thus he's the only one Dazai can count on to put things into context and understand, which makes him display them even more openly.

Because Chuuya never shamed him for his quirks, as much as Dazai never did his.

[awrkive]

THE LOVE PROGNOSIS, fin. — JJK (m.)

for as long as you can remember, you’ve always been a hopeless romantic.

the girl who’s always dreamt of cheesy encounters with her soulmate, grand love declarations, and a cute little beach wedding to boot. but reality pretty much slaps you hard right on the face, because love, unfortunately, doesn’t come grand — it’s simple and it’s quiet, but it is quite painful, especially when the love that you’ve been seeking for all your adult life has just been right under your nose all this time.

PAIRING jungkook x female reader // mingyu x female reader

GENRE r18+ (angst, fluff, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 43.2k idcccccc atp😭 take ur time!

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC medical!au, roommates!au, surgeon!jk, surgeon!reader (they are both 4th year residents and are co-workers), corporate lawyer!mingyu, oc and jk are bffs since med school but their love language is fighting each other <3, jk and mingyu are bffs during undergrad, hopeless romantic!oc. dont read further warnings if u dont wanna be spoiled: ANGST. im aware i kinda overkilled it here but uh.. hear me out! explicit sexual content [ male mast*rbation, oral s*x (f&m receiving), making out, dry h*mping, penetr*tive s*x (protected and unprotected, missionary, cowgirl, doggy, spooning), a bit of c*mplay, jk <3 boobs, ily kink (redacted) cries during sex lol ]. FLUFFy fluff fluffff 😖 some of the scenes give very much like 2000s romcom vibes but idc sue me also theres a #merder reference ifykyk

NOTES we have finally reached the end! sorry it took me a month to get this out sjdfhd but its here and its long as fuck n im so proud of this and happy that i finished a series!! for once!!! will always love my silly tlp couple and the characters 🥹 let me know ur thoughts on my inbox oki and circulate by liking and reblogging if u enjoyed reading hihi ty ok bye enjoy reading!🫵🏼🫵🏼 [ important: pls make sure to read the note below ]

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] // [ MAIN MASTERLIST ]

A day passed since the fiasco at the villa happened and Jungkook and you have acted like total strangers since then. The rest of your friends easily took notice of it; the silence between you two on the ride to the airport, the not-so discreet way you avoided each other at the waiting area, even going as far as exchanging seats inside the plane when on any other day, you two didn’t mind being close together physically. 

Jungkook knows absolutely that the avoidance is doing you both a disservice. You’re both grown adults and going to extreme lengths to ignore each other – like not even looking at the other when you bump in the hospital hallways – is a one-way ticket to your relationship’s foundations crumbling. 

That thought terrified Jungkook so much that he decided to come clean tonight. Talk to you properly when his mind is cleared and there was no Mingyu to aggravate his thoughts and project actions he’s not necessarily proud of – because the fight was juvenile, he knows that. Him committing and giving in to violence is not something he wants you to see, no matter the context. You were right when you said that was not him, and Jungkook can’t have you thinking otherwise.

When he steps in front of your apartment door, he thinks if you’re already there. He isn’t entirely sure. You two haven’t seen each other at the hospital and you haven’t been texting him either.  You might still be doing your rounds, he thought, but when he opens the door to your unit and trudges his feet to the living room, he catches a sight of you going out from your bedroom.

The two of you freeze upon seeing each other, but Jungkook’s surprise soon turns into confusion when he notices the carry-on luggage in your hand.

“Oh, you’re here,” You utter, filling the silence in the air. “I was just going.” 

“Where?” Jungkook instantly asks, taking you both by surprise. 

But you quickly recover. You give him a small smile – but what Jungkook clearly sees is a wince.  

“I’m going over to my sister’s,” You must’ve seen the way Jungkook’s boring holes at your pink luggage, and so you take a glance at it momentarily, tugging on the handle to scoot it over closer to your side. You clear your throat. “I’m staying there for a while.” 

Jungkook feels a certain weight drop on his shoulders, his lips parting at your declaration. 

“__, i-if this is about what I said, you don’t have to leave—”

You cut him off quickly. “No. It’s not that. I just… I just need some time away.”

Even though he doesn’t like the implication, he gets you.

Blinking, he thinks what to say next. Jungkook doesn’t want to say the wrong words – he’s well aware of the fact that he's put his foot in his mouth back at the resort, and he’s not fucking up the second time around. 

While he intended to talk to you tonight to address the elephant between you two, he also understands completely why you need time for yourself. It was too much. He told you a lot of things and he can’t expect you to process all of them in a single day.  

So, he nods, still stricken, heart heavy when he looks at you again. “Okay.” 

“Okay.” You repeat, voice a little louder than him. A pregnant pause, and you’re pulling up the handle of your luggage again, the wheels gliding on the floorboards as you begin to head towards the door to your apartment.

Jungkook doesn’t mean to sound so alarmed when he suddenly blurts out, “Now?” 

He doesn’t even know why. It was the obvious. You’ve packed your things – you’re heading out. But he couldn’t stop himself. It’s like there’s a sense of fear clouding his mind the more this moment of you leaving stretches out further.

You stop on your tracks, blinking at him. “Y-yeah?” 

“Oh.” Jungkook feels his hand itching to do something. Something stupid like grab your wrist gently to make you stay. 

But he knows that’s futile. He doesn’t have the right to make you stay if you don’t want to in the first place. 

“Seokjin’s actually coming in a few minutes,” you tell him, glancing at your phone. “My sister’s still at work, so she made him pick me up.” 

Jungkook can only give you a nod.

It makes sense for your brother-in-law to come pick you up. It also makes sense for you to stay over their place considering that their apartment isn’t that far from the hospital and you won’t have a hard time commuting to work if you planned to stay there for a little while. 

He wonders, though, why you aren’t staying at Doyeon’s instead… he doesn’t know if you’ve talked already, but from what it seems, you aren’t talking to the rest of your friends, either; judging by the way he hasn’t seen you together with any of them at the hospital. Taehyung had suggested that maybe you just need time, to which Doyeon and Nayeon agreed to. Jungkook can’t help but feel bad, though. You’re seemingly coming out isolated at the end of his own doing. If you’re avoiding your friends just because of him, that would be extremely unfair to you. Taehyung, Doyeon and Nayeon are just as much as your friends as they are his, and during these times, you should feel comfortable taking solace in their friendship like how he’s leaning on them currently.

Guilt washes over him at the thought. He can’t bear thinking about you hurting in the process of all of this. He just wants so badly to make it up to you, for you both to be okay again. You didn’t even have to acknowledge what he said – about him being in love with you. You could totally ignore it and act like it never happened, go on about your days like nothing changed as long as you’re by his side.

It hurts. It hurts that even when you’re just physically within his reach right now, he can’t seem to get a hold of you. And he has no one to blame but himself. 

A phone rings and Jungkook watches as you fish out your device from your pockets. 

“Must be Jin.” you say, picking up the call. You exchange a few words with your brother-in-law for a few seconds before hanging up and looking at him again. “He’s outside already.” 

Jungkook nods, biting back the words that consist of something stupid like “don’t leave”. 

“Your car…?” He hesitates, remembering how you’d drive to work. 

“It broke again yesterday. I’m actually… uh… thinking of just selling it. Get it over with.”

Your car. You mentioned your parents have turned it over to you during your junior year in college. It always broke in the most inconvenient times – like the one time you had a bad date, and you panicked-texted him about the car towing company not picking up. It was a Sunday and Jungkook was supposed to go over some paper works, but he scrambled out of his room to get you – and he didn’t regret it one bit because you were actually crying the moment he arrived. You had been overstimulated, what with another failed date and your broken car – it was all too much. And you just needed Jungkook to be there. You told him so. 

Jungkook cherishes those moments a lot. Not because you cried in them – he always felt like it was a punch to the gut whenever he sees you even an ounce of upset – but because it tells him that you trust him with that vulnerable side of you. It means he’s important enough to you to let him in your life. It’s one of those moments where Jungkook truly steps back to reevaluate your relationship – because sure, it could be merely friendship to anybody, but Jungkook doesn’t really think so. Your bond runs deeper than friendship, and he doesn’t even mean romantic. It’s the… camaraderie. The partnership.

He could’ve confessed a long time ago – that’s what people kept saying, but what they don’t know is that he has so much to lose. You are more than just the woman he would love to kiss and make love to or call his girlfriend – you’re the love of his life, you’re everything to him. And if he can’t have you in any way, he’d truly break. 

And now that everything’s said and done – with him finally baring his truth to you – it’s come to this.

You, leaving.

The silence that follows pricks Jungkook’s skin like needles, and the creak of your steps on the floorboards ring in his ears – a daunting harsh whisper of your farewell – although it’s just temporary. 

But something worries him. 

What if it’s not temporary? What if during your stay at your sister’s place, you decide to completely get rid of his company for the good and better? 

It’s all those frantic thoughts that urges him to call your name, but he doesn’t expect your voice overlapping with his as you say his name at the same time. 

Jungkook’s lips curl up slightly. “What is it?” 

Predictably, you wave your hand at him. “No, you first.”

“It’s okay.” 

Your hand hovers over the handle of your suitcase as you pass by him, stopping on the threshold of your apartment. “I just…” you trail off. You look at Jungkook for a moment. “I just wanted to say bye. And uh… that… I drank all your banana milk in the fridge. But I’ll wire you the money later. Or buy you another batch and I’ll give it to you at the hospital or—”

Jungkook cuts you off by calling out your name, broken by a laugh of amusement. His first smile today, maybe. You look at him wide-eyed. It’s fascinating the way you have him completely wrapped around your finger and you’re not even doing anything.

“It’s fine. You don’t need to wire me anything.” 

“Oh... well, I’m still sorry.” He nods, giving you a small smile. “What was it you wanted to tell me, then?” 

Right now, he forgets what it was even all about. “Just, uh, please tell your sister and Seokjin hyung I said hi.”  

Jungkook doesn’t want to delude himself into thinking that your face flashed a look of disappointment for the briefest moment after he said the words. At the back of his mind, he thinks you were expecting more – but he knows he’s reaching, grasping for straws, and he’s just desperate for anything from you he can’t really rationalize his line of thinking. 

So with a final wave of your hand – a bit timid – you turn around and open the door to your unit, and Jungkook watches as your form disappears completely, leaving him stoned in his position in the middle of the living room for a long time; head empty, body numb, until he gathers time to collect himself and finally move over to the bathroom, where he takes a cold shower in hopes for an improved mood.

It didn’t really do anything, and he found himself having a hard time sleeping – waking up randomly during the wee hours of the morning.

When he stirs awake from his blaring alarm at 5:30, he’s nothing but adrift.

It feels weird when he goes to the kitchen and he doesn’t see you, as he expects you to be there in whatever worn up shirt from high school you still have, making toast or some quick breakfast – with your playlist playing from your phone – but you weren’t. 

And Jungkook remembers that would be the case for another few days to come. Something he has to be okay with.

For the meantime.

He hopes.   

Jungkook doesn’t get drunk often, but now, his friends are assuming he is. For the record, though, he is not drunk and they are just exaggerating. Sure, he’s staggering and he’s mixing up his syllables and grammar – but he swears he just feels a little woozy.

“Jungkook,” Doyeon calls him, laughing a bit. “Come on, Taehyung’s driving you home.” 

“Don’t want to,” He says as he takes another swig of his fifth canned beer he’s been consuming since they all arrived at the barbecue place. “I can handle my alcohol.”

Which — fair. That’s not new news. But still—

“No shit, you have a shift tomorrow at eleven in the morning. Don’t be stubborn. It’s time to go home.” 

“It’s fine, I’ll Uber back.” 

Jungkook watches as Doyeon rolls her eyes. 

“Are you really moping right now?” 

He sends her a glare – one that she predictably does not take seriously. “‘M not moping. You’re moping.” 

“And I’m Kate Bush. Taehyung, can you just drag Jungkook out of here? I think he’s gonna cry any minute now and the auntie is closing. We gotta go.” Nayeon butts in, and even though her words may seem harsh around the edges, she looks at Jungkook with a concerned gaze. The playful atmosphere from earlier now dissipating.

Jungkook appreciates the warmth that he gets from Nayeon’s gentle approach to everything – but right now, all it does is make him feel pitiful. Doyeon’s right. He is moping. Moping for something that should’ve been within his control in the first place.

“Man, you know you bench way more than me. I can’t carry you out all by myself if you’re all drunk and shit.” Taehyung nudges him on the shoulder, enough to make Jungkook move from his seat. He only grumbles.

Doyeon sighs. “What do you want, Jungkook? Call __? Tell her you’re getting wasted and come pick you up?” 

Jungkook visibly flinches at the mention of you.

Ever since they arrived at the restaurant, Jungkook has noticed that his friends have been deliberately omitting your name in the conversation – until now, anyway. He thinks they all planned this spontaneous hang to “cheer him up” or whatever the fuck Taehyung said on their way here – which seemed like a slip-up, because Doyeon had hit the back of his head lightly right after saying it. 

They’re walking on eggshells around him like he’s some kind of house of cards – one nudge and a blow and he comes crumbling down.

Jungkook hates getting doted on like this. It’s not like you two broke up. They just knew that you went to stay at your sister’s place for a while and you never said when you’re coming back. He hasn’t had any encounters with you at the hospital nowadays – you’re getting good at hiding from him and the rest of the gang, and every single day bleeds into countless sleepless nights. You’ve been gone for five days; no calls, or at least a text. And it seems like you deactivated your IG. You aren’t tweeting or reblogging shit on Twitter as well. You’ve gone completely silent – and with every waking moment that Jungkook spends a day without your presence, it feels like you’re slowly slipping through his fingers.

“No.” he glares at the three of them. Standing up, he feels his vision dancing at the sudden action.

Well. Maybe he is sort of drunk. A little. 

“Hey, man, let’s go.” Taehyung ushers once again. This time, Jungkook acquiesces but with a groan. Nonetheless, he lets Taehyung wrap his arm around him to prevent him from tripping on his own feet.

When Jungkook manages to stand firm on the ground, he shuts his eyes tight to get a hold of himself and once again look at Doyeon and Nayeon who are still sitting by the table. With a confused expression, he asks, “Thought we’re all going?” 

“Minhyuk will pick me up.” Nayeon says. Jungkook nods, directing his gaze to Doyeon.

“Somebody’s picking me up, too,” When Jungkook squints his eyes at her, she rolls her eyes. “Don’t start. Tae, drive safely, okay? You didn’t drink, right?” 

Taehyung shakes his head and gives both women a reassuring nod before they head out of the building when goodbyes were bid, with Taehyung still pressing a hand on Jungkook’s back because he’s still a bit unstable on his feet. It’s not bad, though, Jungkook doesn’t think so. He just feels dizzy and shit, but it’s not anything water can’t solve.

Fuck, now he wants to get in bed as soon as possible. After a cold shower. 

“Sorry, man.” he says as he plops down on the passenger’s seat, buckling the seatbelt around himself. 

Taehyung comfortably settles on the driver’s seat, adjusting the rearview mirror a bit before starting the engine. But not after he responded to Jungkook with a snort, “It’s fine.” 

It’s a quiet car ride and Jungkook can already feel his eyelids threatening to fall, the haze of sleep already clouding his mind. He can’t recall how far it takes from the restaurant to his complex, but soon enough, Taehyung’s voice wakes him up from his stupor. 

“You okay there?” 

Jungkook hums, leaning back to relax his nerves. A minute flies and he sighs loudly, making Taehyung look at him momentarily.

“Don’t sleep on me. Again, I am not willing to carry you all the way to your apartment, fucker.”

That makes Jungkook laugh, a snicker escaping past his lips. It makes Taehyung do the same, scoffing at his friend as he did so. The car ride continues into a stretched-out comfortable silence before Taehyung breaks it with a question of, “You two still haven’t talked?” 

Jungkook stiffens at the mention, and he knows his friend notices the way he did, but he quickly tries to shake it off. “Yeah. She’s still at her sister’s.” Taehyung nods. When Jungkook looks at him, he decides to ask, “What ‘bout you? She reached out yet?” 

“No.”

Jungkook inhales a sharp breath. 

This is bad. You’re ignoring all your friends because of him. 

“Sorry.” Jungkook says after a pregnant pause.

“What for?”

“Dunno. Feels like it’s all my fault,” a sigh escapes past his lips again. “You guys don’t deserve to get caught up in this.”

“Jungkook,” There’s a lilt to Taehyung’s voice that reminds Jungkook again that the man beside him is older than he is and sometimes, Taehyung can be way more mature, almost like an older brother. He forgets their age difference most of the time. “Don’t say that.  __ just needs her time. She’ll come around.”

The smile Jungkook gives his way is bitter but it’s a smile, nonetheless.

“I don’t know, Tae,” He leans his head back on the seat, staring at nothing in particular. “It’s different this time.”

“You’ve fought before,” Taehyung points out. “How is this different?” 

Jungkook does know what he’s trying to point out. He may be referring to the time in third year of med school when you didn’t talk to him for a month – but still. This, right now – whatever is happening – is far from what happened back then.

“Just different,” He shrugs, a poor attempt at nonchalance so Taehyung doesn’t think he’s being pathetic. “I feel like this is it.” Taehyung looks at him curiously when the red light turns on. It makes Jungkook squirm, but he voices out what he feels, anyway. “I’m losing her.”

That felt weird the moment it slips his tongue. For the past few days, it’s been in his head – making up the mess of his thoughts. When he said that, for once, it felt like finality. Like its verbalization actually made it real. 

He does feel like he’s losing you. And it feels like the absolute truth.

“You can’t say that when you haven’t even talked to her, Jungkook,” Taehyung says and he says it so firmly. When Jungkook studies the older guy’s face, it’s etched with sincerity, especially when he adds, “Do you really think she’ll let go of an almost decade-long relationship just because of what happened? Frankly speaking, even if she does not feel the same way about you at all, I know her enough to know that she’ll have at least the decency to let you down properly. I think she’s just trying to think all of this through. She’ll talk when her head’s clear.” 

Jungkook finds himself processing his words. You are exactly like that. You’re the type of person to need your personal space when you’re confronted by huge predicaments. When he thinks about it – you have so much on your plate. Mingyu, him, your relationship with each of them; Jungkook realizes things must be so hard for you right now, both emotionally and physically. And you’re dealing with all this while still showing up for your rotations.

“You’re right.” Jungkook whispers. 

“Just… time, okay? You both need time.” Taehyung says and for once, Jungkook smiles a genuine one. 

The light turns green, and Taehyung continues to drive. 

Taehyung decided to turn up his jazz playlist and it eased Jungkook’s mind a bit. But it did lull him to sleep all the way to his apartment complex. Thankfully though, it only took Taehyung a few seconds of nudging him before he stirred awake, disoriented when he opened his eyes only to hear his friend say they were already there, ushering him out of his car. 

He said his thanks to Taehyung, and his friend made sure to tell him to take it easy before he took off. When he was gone, Jungkook went straight to the elevator to press his floor, mind and body working on autopilot as he sauntered over the hallway to stop in front of his unit.

When the door opens, he feels a sense of calmness at the sight of his own place with everything at his disposal including the bathroom that he quickly head towards, not hesitating to strip himself naked on the way to the shower, letting his clothes form a heap on the threshold; bare and naked without a care in the world.

Stepping into the shower box, he turns the showerhead on, hissing at the cold water spraying onto his skin. He needed the cold to get rid of his sluggishness – and it works just as instantly as he’d hoped. 

Both of his hands shoot up to brush his hair off his forehead, and he stays in that position for awhile; with the water running on his body and his head leaned back a bit, eyes closed as he relaxes. 

He mindlessly reaches for his shampoo bottle, but when he opens the cap, he smells a completely different product. What welcomes him when he opens his eyes back again is the familiar sight of Bath and Body works bottle. Your water lily springs body wash.

Despite his current headspace, it brings a smile to Jungkook’s lips.

Right.

He’s noticed in the past few days that you left it in your shared bathroom. Considering all the things that you still have around the apartment, it didn’t really look like you packed a lot of things when you left – which should ease Jungkook’s mind. Still, though; the small size of your luggage and the quantity of what you brought with you do not matter when you still aren’t home. 

And with that, Jungkook feels himself slipping back into… mulling again. And he can’t help but heave out a sigh. 

He just… wants to rest for tonight. Just wants his head emptied out. Relax. He feels like he’s been on edge for the longest of time and he just needs some sort of – he’s not sure – comfort? Maybe something along the lines? 

And as if his hand has a mind on its own, he grips the bottle of your body wash and squirts an ample amount on his palm, the scent of water lily springs surrounding the confined space of the shower immediately. 

He lathers it all over his chest, inhaling the gentle waft and how it weirdly calms him from the inside. The room smells just like you. He smells just like you. And it isn’t the first time he’s doing this – he’s always liked the way you smelled, and he may have used your body wash by accident countless of times. Jungkook sometimes does it just to tease you – because you always point it out when you notice that he smells the same, and then you get all irritated and it makes Jungkook keen because you’re just so goddamn cute when you glare at him and when you get mean. Teasing you also means that you’d get mad enough to sulk at him, and that gives him the opportunity to make it up to you; and making it up to you means he gets all of your attention. 

It’s pathetic but Jungkook’s not ashamed to admit that – just to himself, though. He likes when you give him attention, can you blame him?

His mind goes back to the memory of you cuddling with him on the ground at that random playground near your complex, how you snuggled up to his arm, giggling and threatening him to stop using your body wash. He remembers all the times you would cook together on nights when you’re both free – lounging on the couch mindlessly, either watching a show and debating over useless, stupid stuff – or when you would force him to rub your foot or massage your neck. Jungkook doesn’t relent until after you complain for a good five minutes. He’s gotten better at pretending overtime that he doesn’t look forward to touching any part of you.

At that thought, he recalls the way your back felt on his hands when he rubbed sunscreen all over it when you were at the resort. How the plane of your gorgeous skin felt so smooth to the touch, how you make him feel even with just the slightest baring of your skin. 

Jungkook shuts his close when his mind goes into overdrive.

You. You. You and your bikini. You and your short shorts that might as well just be panties in disguise. You and those cute little, tight camisoles you always wear around the apartment. How he could just sometimes see the outline of your nipples where the thin material of your shirt clings to. How your bare legs look so good when you cross them while reading the paper on a Sunday morning by the kitchen island. How your breasts look like they could fit in Jungkook’s big palms with a bit of overspill – enough to drive him insane. 

These are the thoughts in Jungkook’s head as he continues to lather the liquidy texture of your body wash all over his body – and when his hand finally nudges the dick in between his legs, he groans. 

He’s not a stranger to getting off to the thought of you – you’re a gorgeous woman and it doesn’t really help the fact that he’s been in love with you for god knows how long – but it doesn’t mean that he does it guilt-free. He almost always feels like shit afterwards. 

But he can’t help it. Not when you’re all over his head again. Not when he’s thinking about how good it would probably fucking feel if he could just have a taste of your plump lips. How it would feel if he could just suck on your neck, paint you with his love there, down to your cleavage then play with both of your tits with his hands – be greedy with it – get your nipples rock hard and pretty tight for him, suck and latch and nip and lick them, make sure it’s all wet before he goes down more south. 

God. He thinks about it all the time. How’d it feel to go down on you. You’re so fucking pretty he could just imagine how gorgeous you would look down there, too. Were you the type to like getting eaten out? Jungkook hopes so. Because he would do everything to satisfy you. Fuck, he’d be so good to you. He’d tease your clit with his thumb first and you’d tell him that you’re aching for him bad – and he’d cave in and get his first taste with the flat of his tongue and fuck. You probably taste so good he’d crave it for days to come. 

The next thing Jungkook knows, he’s holding the base of his cock firmly, feeling it getting harder every second. It grows in his hand as he continues to think about eating your pussy, imagining the sounds you’d let out, how you’d look extra beautiful getting fucked by his tongue. Shit. He’d do it so well if you just asked. 

Jungkook traps his bottom lip with his teeth as he starts teasing his own cock, already in its full mass, hard and standing tall against his abdomen. He can see the shiny texture of his tip, precum leaking out, begging to be touched. He doesn’t wait any second to thumb the liquid off his head, letting out a half-sigh, half-hiss at how sensitive it felt, especially when he runs it over the veiny base.

Inhaling a sharp breath, Jungkook steps back a bit to cup his balls, squeezing it just enough to make him close his eyes. He repeats the motion of sliding his hand up and down his erect cock, feeling himself getting wetter at every second that passes. 

He gets a picture of you on your knees, and as he pumps himself at a slow pace, he imagines it’s you instead kneading him. You have slender fingers and pretty nails, it would feel so much better if they were wrapped around his cock right now. Your nails would scrape against his length, and you’ve held hands enough times for Jungkook to know that his hand is significantly bigger than yours, so you probably won’t fit all of him in your hand – but that’s alright. You’d tease him on the tip instead, spread his precum all over, get him needing and wanting more. 

Jungkook’s hips start to buck as he speeds up his pace, this time jacking himself harder as his mind jumps to more thoughts of you  — but this time around, you’re not on your knees: you’re pressed on the glass wall of the shower box, your ass bent for all of him to caress and squeeze, and you’re craning your head to look at him with hooded eyes, lips parted into a gorgeous “o” as you beckon him to come closer and put his hard dick in your warm, tight, and aching pussy. 

“Fuck.” Jungkook curses as he lets his forehead fall to the wall, resting there for a few good seconds, other hand scrambling to turn off the shower and quickly shutting his eyes close as he pictures himself thrusting into you instead of his stupid fucking hand.

“Shit, shit, shit—” He hisses, hand going faster around his length, pumping himself desperately to the thought of his dick sliding in and out of you.

Your moans would fill the tight room, and you’d sound so pretty. You’d be so pliant against the strong arm that he would wrap you with — and Jungkook would make sure to flick your nipples and fondle your breasts as he pounds into you from behind.

“Fuuuuck…” 

He grunts and he moans, hand impossibly going faster — dick getting harder. He just wants a release. He wants to cum so bad — to kiss you and love you and have you say it back with the same earnestness as him. 

Jungkook wants so badly to have you in his arms right after he eats you out, to cuddle with you and pretend like you have all the time in the world after he’s made sure to make love to every single inch of your body. To caress your hair and press a kiss on your head anytime he likes – because he’s allowed to. Because you love him. He just wants to be able to touch you in any way possible. Run his fingers over your back, kiss your cheeks, and your scrunched nose. Just wants to bury his face in your chest after a long day at work. Hold you tight against him. Have you close to him, whenever and wherever. 

But he doesn’t have all that. He can’t have all that. Not when you don’t even feel the same. Not when you reacted that way when he told you he loves you more than just his best friend. 

“I’m sorry, but I just can’t wrap my head around it. You’re not telling me the whole truth and frankly, I don’t believe you.”  

Your words ring in his ears as he continues to jack himself. 

The memory is still so vivid in his head — the surprised look on your face — certainly not the pleasant one. You were so… surprised. And angry. Like you didn’t believe any of what he said. Like you were trying hard to convince yourself that whatever you were hearing from him wasn’t true. 

Because she doesn’t feel the same way. Jungkook thinks.

He remembers the night you left. How you could barely look him in the eyes. 

“Shit—” Jungkook hisses as he squeezes his balls, hand pumping faster around his swollen cock. He closes his eyes as he tries to regulate his breathing, his stomach tightening at his impending release – and it’s the last thing he does in favor of his own sanity before his mind slips back again to life without you in it. 

He would never have you. He can never be anything to you anymore. 

He will never be, especially as he looks down at his hand on his cock.

How pathetic.

What would you think if you were to see him right now, getting himself off by imagining it’s you instead? You’d be so disgusted. You’d look at him like he’s a different person and feel betrayed because – how could the person you trust think about you like this? 

There’s that sense of self-hatred again that Jungkook feels whenever he jacks off to you. That fear of you finding out and not liking it. 

Jungkook tugs at his cock angrily as he thinks about all that, and he doesn’t notice that the stinging in the sides of his eyes would soon turn into tears running down his cheeks as he tries to reach his climax. 

You would hate him so much. You don’t even like him anymore. Don’t even want to live with him anymore.

But he just wants to cum so bad. Just wants to feel some sort of clarity. Delude himself into basking in that quick dopamine. 

He traps a sob in his throat as he makes quick work of his cock, and with one last squeeze around his tight balls, he shoots his hot cum to the wall, hips bucking at his orgasm. 

Letting out a series of hushed curses, Jungkook continues to pump his cock for more until he feels sensitive, and his dick turns soft and languid against his legs. 

He grabs the shower head to spray the cum off the wall, feeling the water already turning lukewarm. When he finishes cleaning his mess up, he grabs your body wash and exits the shower, throwing the bottle in the trash can with haste as if it burned him. As he turns back around, he catches sight of himself over the lavatory’s mirror. 

There are dark circles under his eyes — not too visible — but they’re there. His eyes are red from crying, and suddenly his body itches. He should shower again and actually clean up this time.

But Jungkook realizes as he stares at himself again… he has never looked so tired. Not even in med school. Or during internship. 

This whole thing is taking a toll on him – he knows that well by now. Even his friends do as well. He’s fucking up his sleeping schedule and he’s not even eating properly. He hits the gym not because he wants to but because it helps shut down his head.

Jungkook sighs. 

He’s long accepted that the love he holds for you is so big it sometimes borders on piteous. He’s spent so many years going into this kind of phase where he just mulls over the same thing; that he loves you, but you will never ever feel the same way back.

And the thing is, he's always been okay with it. Jungkook loves loving you. He’d be a fool not to when he genuinely thinks that you were made to be loved.  

But at this point, he just feels… tired.

Exhausted. Empty.

He wants to sleep. He wants to rest. He wants to wake up the next day and not feel like shit anymore.

Maybe Doyeon was right back at the villa.

It is time to move on.

And maybe… just maybe… unlike all the other times he’s attempted to do the same thing, this time around will be successful.

Your 7am to 2pm shift had just concluded when you arrived at your sister’s place, only to see them both all dolled up, ready to go out.

They told you that you could come with them if you liked, but of course you refused. You’re not the type to interrupt a date and they were certainly too in love for your liking. Don’t get you wrong, you love that for both – but you’re getting pretty sick of romance these days and you’re trying to avoid it as much as possible. Seokjin made sure to throw another one of his “Don’t mope around, okay? We have Macallan in the cupboards. You know the one.” jokes, though – having already known why you’re here in the first place – and your sister pinched his ear painfully enough for you to ignore and roll your eyes at him lightheartedly. 

Which leads you to now, binge-eating a left-over tub of vanilla ice cream on a Sunday afternoon from last night’s impulsive purchase. You know it’s going to make you feel like shit later, but you can’t really bring yourself to care – not when the ice cream tastes too good paired with a Sex and The City episode. 

You like to delude yourself you’re the early season Miranda; independent, boss bitch, career-driven, straightforward but kind. But you had a mortifying realization that maybe you’re actually Carrie. You’re both so obsessed with love and glorify the idea of “The One” that you overlook red flags in a guy just to stay in a relationship. And for what? To be completely broken and fucked over in the end of it all. 

But you don’t want to be Carrie – sure, she has a special place in your heart as a fictional character but real-life Carries, with all of their delusions and ideals, are not meant for the real world.  

“You’re watching that show again?”

You almost fall over the couch when you hear a familiar voice behind you, and when you crane your neck to look who it was, your eyes widen.

“Mom!” you exclaim, rightfully surprised. Your mother – in the flesh – smiles as she sees you grin. “Oh my god, I didn’t know you’d be here— wait, how’d you get inside?”

She waves you off. “You know your sister and Jin gave me a duplicate key to their place. Anyway, I’m just here to drop off some side dishes. Also, I know what you’ve been up to. And stop eating that ice cream.”

You pout, taking the tub away from you. When you see her walk towards the kitchen with her bags – presumably the side dishes she was talking about – you follow behind her steps, helping her load the containers in the fridge. 

“What do you mean you know what I’ve been up to?” 

“You and Jungkook fought, I heard.” 

“Mom,” you say with a tone that tells her you don’t want to talk about it at all. 

“You know I’m going over there shortly to give him these, right? Supposed to be for the both of you, but oh well, you’re lounging around here.” She says. 

“I’m not lounging around here. They love that I’m here.” You counter, referring to your sister and Seokjin. It almost sounded like a whine, though, more than anything. But it was true! They like you being here! They’ve always treated you like their child… but you know you’re kind of pushing it with your sixth-day-stay. 

Your mother looks at you disapprovingly, loading the last container before shutting the fringe doors shut. 

“Whatever you’re fighting about, you know avoiding it is not going to make it better.” 

You sigh. “I’m not even sure if we’re fighting, anyway.” 

“What’s that mean?” Your mom asks, sounding confused. You can imagine.

“I don’t know… just – I don’t think we’re angry at each other.”

“Not being angry at each other is worse than being angry at each other. That sounds like withdrawal.” 

You wince at her words. “Maybe.” 

Your mom sighs. She takes out a bit from the container of stir-fried zucchini and slides you both a plate. “Have you been eating real food? You look like you’re not eating properly.”

Teenager and college you would’ve rolled your eyes because she always says that you’re losing weight and blah blah blah, but it’s not even true. However, you do know she’s just concerned, though, and so you nod your head, picking up a zucchini and eating it.

“Yes. Jin’s a good cook.”

She nods, eating as well. “So is Jungkook. He hasn’t talked to you at all?” 

You thought you’ve dodged the topic of Jungkook completely but apparently your mom’s still on that. You nibble on your bottom lip as you think what to say.

“He… uhm… he didn’t text or call.” Well. There was one time. Two days ago. And it was just a simple text about informing you of the sudden change in the OR schedule. You replied to it with a thanks and a smiley face, but he didn’t say anything after that — not that your thanks should guarantee anything. That was not exactly a conversation starter.

Still. 

“Have you talked to him?” 

Shoot. 

You shake your head a bit. 

The truth is that you can’t be sad about Jungkook not reaching out when you haven’t been doing the same thing either. You’re running away from him – you can admit that. The past week hasn’t been your proudest moment. You’ve thought it over countless times; why you just can’t go ahead and speak to him – because heck, for eight years you’ve always done a good job at it, communicating with each other when things went wrong. Like when he teases you too much and you actually get offended, and the same goes for him.

But what happened wasn’t just something that came out of a supposedly lighthearted banter. It wasn’t your usual banter at all. 

“What happened, sweetie?” And this time your mom’s voice is bordering on concern. 

You don’t look at her when you say, “Jungkook said he’s in love with me.” 

You don’t get a reaction. At least – the reaction you were expecting. You thought she would gasp, or at least let out an, “Oh”, but there’s none of that. When you peer up at her, she just nods. 

As if the news was no surprise. 

“And I take it didn’t go well?” She looks at you gently. 

“N-no,” you stammer. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you say, “It was – it was so messy that day, mom. You know we went to that resort for his birthday, right? He and my boyfriend fought, and just – so much happened. I don’t even remember half of it. Just that he told me he’s been in love with me for the past eight years.” 

Your mom nods. “Your boyfriend… is that Mingyu?” 

“Yes.” It feels weird to call him your boyfriend now. You used to be so giddy calling him that. But right now, it feels almost icky. 

“Why did Jungkook and him fight?” 

You told her what Jungkook told you – everything, and your mom is sweet almost all of the time but as she listens to everything that Mingyu supposedly did and say – especially about you – she can’t help but knit her brows in that quiet anger you know all too well now. But it soon dissipates to worry. 

She steps closer to you. You look at her with a sad smile. With that, she encloses her arms around you, and you let your chin fall on her shoulder as you reciprocate her hug. You almost cry when she squeezes you. “How are you feeling then, sweetie?” She asks, voice so gentle and soft. Comforting. You think this has been what you needed all this time.

“Like shit.” you chuckle. “I’ve never been so tired. I haven’t even talked to Mingyu yet – I haven’t been talking to anybody, even my friends. I don't know why I’m like this.” 

“You know I worry for you.”

“Hm?” 

“You’re such a lovely, sweet girl. And these men keep breaking your heart. I wish I can ease your pain, honey. You have the biggest heart in the world.” 

You nibble on your bottom lip as you feel that stinging in your eyes at her words. You remember Jungkook saying almost the exact same thing.

“Jungkook told me that sometime ago.” you say, holding back the cry you know is coming out any second now. 

“He knows you well.” She says as she caresses your head. 

“I just…” you let out a sigh again, trying to shake off the oncoming tears. “When he told me he loved me all this time, I said I didn’t believe him. I couldn’t wrap my head around it. I still can’t.” 

“Do you think he would lie about something like that?” 

It’s firm and final when you say, “No.” Because you know in your heart that was true. Jungkook is anything but a liar. And especially about something like that… you just don’t think he would ever hurt you intentionally. That’d be cruel and Jungkook was never cruel. It’s just not in his nature. 

“Hm. Then is it because you don’t feel the same way at all? That’s why you can’t believe it?” Your mom asks and it’s the most groundbreaking question you’ve ever heard after a while. 

Do you just… not feel the same way? 

That was definitely the biggest question you’ve been avoiding answering. 

But as your mom pushes you slightly so she can look at you earnestly, gently, like she has no expectations whatsoever – just here to hold and comfort you – it beckons you into spilling your emotions. 

“I… I really don’t know, mom.” You intake a sharp breath. “He’s been a constant presence in my life for eight years. We’ve never– we’ve never considered the possibility of being more than just friends. I– I don’t know why he would love me. Or fall for me. He’s never shown interest, the way I saw it – but these days I’ve been rethinking that and I’m beating myself over for being stupid because it’s like – how could I have not known? He’s always been so caring towards me. Always makes time for me. He’s never let me down and he’s just – he’s my person, mom. Always has been. And how could I have thought that he didn’t mean for that to come off as purely platonic?” you stop, feeling your lips wobble. “It’s just… I don’t know. I don’t know what to feel. All I know is that these days without him have been so painful, especially when we haven’t properly talked. I miss him everyday and it kills me that we aren’t like before right now. I want to be by his side all the time, and I think I may have taken that for granted for the past eight years we’ve known each other.” 

You don’t realize you’ve let out so much, but your mom just lets you snuggle closer to her, knowing that you’re feeling a lot right now. And you do. You haven’t talked to anyone about what you really felt – not even your sister, even though you knew she did her best to do so – but as your mom soothes your back with the gentle rub of her hand, you let yourself be comforted. 

“You know what I think, honey?” 

You look up at her with teary eyes, nodding weakly.

She gives you a small smile. “Do you remember that time when I thought he was your boyfriend when you brought him for Christmas?” 

Nodding, you chuckle. Second year of med school it was. Eunwoo was in Switzerland for a a big project – and Jungkook’s parents weren’t in town. You both didn’t have anybody to celebrate Christmas with and so you ended up asking Jungkook to come home with you. 

It wasn’t just your mom who thought he was your boyfriend. Your sister and Seokjin also assumed the same thing. 

Around that time, you haven’t introduced Eunwoo to them yet so basically, they didn’t know that you were taken already. 

“I think this is just me being old… but you kind of… you get to know these things, __. You’ll see somebody's eyes, they way they gaze at somebody. When we were opening those gifts during Christmas eve, I saw the way that kid looked at my daughter with so much adoration that I even thought you were just being coy about him being your boyfriend.” 

Your lips curl into a tight line. 

You… certainly did not notice any of that. Did that really happen?

“I think Jungkook’s a good man, and your dad is fond of him – he asked me yesterday if you’re gonna bring him for Thanksgiving or Christmas, he misses his chess buddy, it seems. No pressure, though,” your mom chuckles. “But Jungkook’s smart, kind, polite, works hard, really charming—” you laugh again, despite yourself, because that’s definitely true. He charmed your parents so quickly with ease. It’s just really about his pleasant personality that attaches people to him. “But most especially, he makes you really happy. I liked that Jaehyun guy and Eunwoo because they made you happy when you were together. Up until they didn’t. I only like people who are good to you, sweetie. That was why I liked your ex-boyfriends for a while,” She begins caressing your head again and you feel like a little girl again, finding comfort in your mom’s bedroom after a bad day at middle school. Your mom smiles softly before she continues, “But those men hurt you. And they leave you. And you know who hasn’t in the past eight years? The only one who’s been consistent in making you happy?” 

It’s Jungkook. He’s always been under your nose while you cried over other men, and he was there to support you through it all. He’s the one who makes you laugh at his stupid jokes. The one who sits with you in your feelings on days when you don’t feel your best. He’s the one who lets you cry on his shoulder when a surgery doesn’t go well, the guy who would drop everything for you with one text or call, the guy who gifts you stupid, stupid random things because they reminded him of you. He’s the guy who shares his playlists with you, comments silly stuff on your equally silly posts, and he’s the only one who has never, ever made you feel like you’re not enough. He’s the only one who has never left and hurt you. 

It’s always been Jungkook. 

Your mom doesn’t need to say the name, though, just one look at you and she knows you're thinking the same thing. 

It’s during midday at the hospital when you see Jungkook again.

The elevator dinged and the doors finally opened on your floor, but you froze in your position when you saw who was inside the whole time. 

It was Jungkook, sitting slightly on the handrails while crossing his arms. His posture straightened for a bit as he met your eyes, looking equally surprised as you. But then he recovered and relaxed in his position just as quickly. 

You couldn’t read the look on his face.

Taking a hold of yourself before the door automatically closes, you stepped a foot inside the lift and pressed on the button of your floor immediately. The 7th floor button is lightened up, so you assumed Jungkook was gonna get off earlier than you since you were going down on the sixth floor. 

The confined space had never felt more suffocating. You could feel there was something in the air – a thick tension that was getting too hard to bear every second you felt the elevator moving down. 

There was a lump that formed in your throat, especially when you caught a glimpse of the reader going floors down fast, and the 7th one was nearing. 

Your heart beat erratically against your chest. You didn’t even feel that nervous back in the OR twenty minutes ago.

But you figured it was the first time you felt close, after all.

It was funny, really – what you felt at that moment. Being physically close to Jungkook had never made you feel like that – like you’re on edge – you’ve always just approached it as something natural, like you were meant to be that way. And those times, you never really thought about the contact ending. 

But in that moment, it felt like he was slipping away – even though you were not even holding him in the first place. 

It was probably why you let out your next words, craning your neck to the side to try and look behind you where you knew Jungkook was at. 

“I miss you.” 

You barely said it. Felt like just a soft whisper as the words slipped past your lips, but there was a break around its edges – like it was the most vulnerable thing you’ve ever said. 

It was. 

And you didn’t exactly know why you did it. 

Maybe you just wanted him to know. Maybe you just wanted him to understand that… that you were still there. And that you missed him. Every single day. Regardless of what happened. 

There was a thick silence that hung in the air after that, and you should’ve taken back your words right after they came out. Embarrassment should’ve clouded you by then. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. 

That was as honest as you could get. 

You didn’t even expect a reply – assuming that maybe Jungkook hadn’t heard it. 

But you heard the soft tap of his steps on the floor and felt his overwhelming presence coming near you. And just like that, you knew he was behind you. Close. A hair's breadth away. 

Then, you hear him let out a soft sigh, and you could feel his breath brush against your ear as he leaned down. You never realized how much you craved his affection until you felt him slightly nudging his cheek against the crown of your head. 

It made you keen. Made you shut your eyes close. Basking in the moment, but you didn’t ignore the pain that it caused. 

Because somehow, despite what might seem like a sweet gesture – the whole thing felt like goodbye.

It was so intimate, though, that you almost forgot that you were currently on the 8th floor and he was dropping off on the next. 

The elevator dinged like a wake-up call. And when you opened your eyes, Jungkook had already peeled his body away from you. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you fought the urge to cry as you saw him walking out. 

Before the door closed, he took one look at you. His mouth opened, as if wanting to say something. You waited. But he closed his lips again, not bothering to look back for even one last time before the elevator doors closed in front of your face. 

The interaction left a certain melancholy in your heart, and it made you run on auto-pilot when the elevator stopped on your floor. 

You never expected for the encounter to happen – but it did, in its own way. And now you have to deal with the consequences of your impulsive actions.

Your mindless walking has led your feet to somewhere a bit secluded. It’s far across the hall, and you recognize it as some old, empty ward. You and your friends have one on the 5th floor but you don’t think you’ve never really been here before and so you weren’t sure.

But you’re desperate to let out a good cry. Maybe not exactly cry – but just be alone for awhile. The hospital and your schedule are busy enough as they are and it’s enough to keep your mind occupied since the morning – but that interaction with Jungkook at the elevator reminded you of the weight that you’ve been carrying lately and you just… want to dissipate a little. Even if it means sacrificing your three-minute lunchtime. 

You don’t suspect anything as you twist the doorknob open – surprise to see it’s not locked like you thought it would be. 

And the sight leaves your mouth hanging open. 

“Oh my god.” 

“What the fuck.” 

“Shit!” You watch as Doyeon pushes off the man wearing a white lab gown on top of her – a very familiar figure that you can only recognize as none other than the attending surgeon Dr. Kim Namjoon. 

A panicked, “I’m sorry!” leaves your mouth before you turn on your heel, ready to fly off the scene when you hear Doyeon’s voice calling you from behind.

“Wait, __!” 

You hesitantly look back.

It’s obvious what they were doing before you entered the room. Doyeon’s hair is unusually out of the ponytail she always shows up to work with, and Dr. Kim… Jesus. He’s always been so intimidating to you – with his tall stature and his aura that reeks so much of authority, even though he doesn’t even try, it feels so fucking weird to suddenly see him with his hair all mussed up when it always looks kempt every single time you see him along the hallways of the hospital. Right now, he looks coy, like he’s shrinking himself as he avoids looking at you.

“Dr. __, I am so deeply sorry,” His apology sounds so remorseful that you feel bad for even having to barge in. You can see Dr. Kim fumbling with his coat as he looks at Doyeon like he’s looking for help. Doyeon looks at him, but she just… rolls her eyes.

“Joon, just–” She cuts herself off, shutting her eyes close. Seemingly agitated. Or embarrassed. You don’t know why you’re still here. “You should leave now, I’ll talk to __.” Doyeon lets her gaze fall back to you and your eyes widen at the declaration, not really knowing if she was serious or not. 

You mean… what are you even going to talk about? Sure! You’re shocked as fuck to see them together in that position but you’re not about to ask her about her sex life!

… Okay. So maybe you are a little bit (only a little) curious about that.

Dr. Kim has always been a mystery to all of you. Taehyung and Jungkook admire him so much, the latter lowkey idolizes him at this point. Nayeon has always spoken highly about him and you’re literally a fan of all his work in his field, especially his books. It doesn’t help that he’s attractive as hell, too, and you all may have gossiped about him at one point in your lives – so sue you for being curious! You’re just human.   

“You sure?” Dr. Kim says, barely spoken, but you don’t miss the gentle way he holds Doyeon’s shoulder as he asks that, the way his face contorts into a concerned expression when he looks down at her. One quick interaction and you instantly realize that oh… this is serious. 

They’re not just having casual sex in this ward.

This is Doyeon’s boyfriend.

Your bestfriend nods at him and you step aside to give Dr. Kim some space to leave the room, still visibly stunned. You thought he was going to leave when he utters another apology again. 

“__, I’m really sorry about this behavior. Doyeon and I—” 

Doyeon groans. “Joon, oh my god. It’s fine.” 

You watch as Dr. Kim’s (who Doyeon apparently calls “Joon”— what the hell) lips fall into a thin line. “Fine. I’ll go. We’ll talk about this later, alright?” 

“I know.” 

He gives you both one last glance before the door closes on you.

You swear you tried to look for cameras everywhere – like they do in The Office – to see if the whole thing was a prank. But no. Your life’s unfortunately not a sitcom.

“I told him to lock the door earlier,” Doyeon starts, sounding defeated as she falls back on one of the emergency beds. Sighing, she covers her face with her hands. “This is so embarrassing.” 

At that, you can’t help but react immediately. 

“You’re embarrassed about the fact that you’re fucking an insanely stupid hot, intelligent man?” Your brows knit. 

Doyeon looks at you and you both stare at each other. She holds her own, like she usually does, but for the first time ever, she breaks and chuckles. The laughter turns hilarious, and you follow her into the bed. 

“God,” she utters. She licks her bottom lip and looks at you shyly. “I didn’t mean for you to find out this way.” 

“I mean… what did you mean to do instead?” 

She hesitates. “I’m not sure.”

You frown. “So, you just… you just weren’t going to tell me? Us?” You didn’t bother to hide the tone of disappointment in your words. Doyeon looks a little ashamed when you verbalized that.

“It’s not that. I just didn’t know how,” She says. You knit your brows in confusion. “You know I’ve always been… private about my dating life or whatever. I don’t tell you guys I’m dating until I’m sure the guy and I are official. I… I don’t even date a lot in the first place.” 

Well… that was true. You nod at her, giving her a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I get that.” Doyeon smiles a little. “How long?” 

There’s a pregnant pause before she says, “Uh… since Feb?” 

“Jesus.” She winces at your reaction. You stare at her with your jaw slack. “What the fuck, Doyeon? Nine months?”

“Well, technically, eight but—” you look at her dryly and Doyeon gives up on her attempt at being facetious. “Okay. I’m sorry. It just happened.” You raise your brow at her. She sighs. “Okay, so we may have hooked up last year in December. You remember the Christmas party at the Ritz?” 

Your mouth just hangs wider, looking at her incredulously. Every drop of information she lets out just grows your surprise bigger, and you have nothing in substance to say except, “You… whore.” 

Doyeon laughs so loud you worry it might have been heard from the outside, but you wince at the slap that follows on your shoulder as she giggles nonstop. 

“Shut the fuck up, oh my god.” 

“No– I just– Oh my god, was that the reason why you bailed on our own Christmas party over at Nayeon’s?” She nods at your question with her lips pursed. You scoff, still not believing it but just overall amused in general. “You’re really throwing me a curveball here, babe. Like – I have never ever heard you talking about Dr. Kim except when you said you’d totally fuck him in that one drinking session. And then, you actually fucking did.”

She rolls her eyes, scoffing. “He started asking me out on dates in January and he asked me to be his girlfriend in Feb. I don’t even know how it happened. It just did,” She shrugs, as if she just said that the skies are blue. “I’m pretty good at hiding, huh?” 

You don’t hide the way you instantly frown.

“I’m happy for you, Doyeon, I really am. But… did you not feel like you could tell me? Or any of us?”

At least she looks apologetic, nibbling on her bottom lip before she says, “It’s not that, __. I didn’t know how to tell you guys. There’s this – there’s this thing when you date a co-worker, especially in the hospital. He’s an attendant, and he’s about to be chief of surgery next two months, you know that right? And it’s just— I know you will never think it, or the rest of our friends – but I just. I didn’t want anyone to think that I’m… that I’m sleeping my way here, you know? It’s fucking weird. And Ms. Yan from fuckass HR hates me for some reason. I’d be public enemy number one around here, __.”

You wince hearing her explanation. Nodding, you rub her shoulder to offer some kind of comfort, noticing that she’s actually silently fuming just by the mere thought of that. Meaning she must have been thinking about it for quite some time now. 

“But you know we’ll never think of it like that, right?” You confirm with her, just to be sure. You love Doyeon – she’s basically your sister at this point – and you don’t ever want her to feel like she can’t trust you.

“Of course. I don’t… I can’t really offer you any explanation other than I got scared and just wasn’t ready. Joon wants to let people know… and I don’t know. I guess I’m thinking about that too nowadays.” She says, and she’s not really looking at you anymore, seemingly deep in thought.

You begin rubbing her back. “It’s fine if you’re not ready yet.” 

“Oh, this is getting kind of mushy. I hate it.” Doyeon says dryly. You push her slightly which sends her sideways a bit, earning a laugh from her.

“Joon, huh?” You decide to tease to lighten up the mood. Instead of backing down and getting shy like you expected, Doyeon raises her brow. “Can I be honest with you, though?” You say, fiddling with your fingers. She nods so you tread lightly to your next words. “This will sound crazy, I know, but for the longest time I thought Jungkook was your secret boyfriend.”

“What the fuck?” Doyeon says, sharp and almost… disgusted. You don’t expect such a reaction. 

“Okay, you don’t need to sound so disgusted. Jungkook’s a good-looking guy and he’s very decent.” You say, sounding weirdly defensive – even to your own ears.

“No– that’s not what I meant—” Doyeon cuts herself off with a laugh. “That’s actually really funny, though.” You look at her curiously. “Somehow, I thought about you thinking that. Especially after that time at the villa when you walked in on us talking by the pool deck.” 

“I…” you try to come up with an excuse, something to deny her claim, but nothing comes, and your eyebrows knit in confusion because you actually don’t know yourself why you felt that way back then. You still remember the weird feeling that flared up in your chest upon seeing them in such an intimate position — with Jungkook’s head on Doyeon’s stomach and her caressing his head. Maybe you’re more malicious than you let on, but can she really blame you for thinking there was more to that? Besides, Jungkook’s second closest in the group is probably her. It made sense to assume they were secretly together. 

“God, don’t,” Doyeon says incredulously. “Obviously, he’s not my secret boyfriend. I don’t like him and he does not like me, at least not that way. That man only has heart eyes for you and I’m only into Namjoon, thank you very much.” 

You wince. “Sorry.”

“But were you really jealous that time, though?” Doyeon asks, intrigued. “I mean, I thought about it. You were acting weird. But I kind of just shrugged it off.”

“I was not jealous, what the hell,” you quickly say. “I was just surprised. And you’re both really close, so I don’t know.” 

Doyeon arches her brow. “You’re also both close, so going by that logic, are you two together?” You frown at her. She laughs, knowing she proved her point. “Alright, enough about that. How have you been these days?”

You stare at her before sighing.

“I’ve been wanting to say sorry.” 

“Damn straight,” she tells you immediately, like she’s been looking forward to it. “Like, you bitch– I thought you died. Not talking to me or to anybody for a week is crazy.”

“It’s not my proudest moment.” 

“Why?” 

You subtly inhale a shaky breath. “I… to be honest? I thought you guys were mad at me.” 

“What?” You can hear the incredulous tone Doyeon’s taking on. And you slowly realize that you completely just conjured a whole ass narrative in your head the whole time. 

“I know. I feel terrible about it. But I just… I couldn’t help but think that I ruined… things.” 

“Oh…” Doyeon says, and she cranes her neck down to meet your gaze as you’re tucking your head down slightly. “Why did you think that?” 

You open your mouth and close it, trying to find the right words.

“I… know I was completely being ambitious when I said I wanted to bring Mingyu along to the trip – and I realize I shouldn’t have done that. Our relationship was still so fresh, and I was already bringing him along to what was supposed to be our vacation. And the fight happened and the whole thing just went to complete shit. We didn’t even get to spend our five nights there because you guys had to book us a flight immediately and I just… I guess I just feel so bad about it. Had I not invited him… the trip would’ve been way more different. Happier, that I’m sure of.”

“__,” Doyeon calls your name firmly. “That was not any of your fault. Sure, you should’ve consulted with us – because I’m not gonna lie, you threw us in for a surprise when you said that Mingyu was coming, but that fight was not your fault. At all. They physically fought each other on their own accord, even though they knew they were already too grown to be doing that shit. Don’t feel guilty about what those men did.” 

You bite your lip. “Still. They— uhm. They apparently fought because of me. It’s stupid.” 

“Exactly. But… Mingyu kind of deserved it. Sorry.” Doyeon comments. 

You wince. “You know?” 

“Jungkook told us about it, yeah.” Doyeon says, as if hesitant to even mention his name in the conversation. 

You sigh. You’re not really surprised. “Did he… did he tell you guys… everything?” 

“He did.” Doyeon confirms. “It’s not actually new news for us, __.” 

You look confuse when you meet her gaze. “How do you mean?” 

She presses her lips into a thin line. “He’s in love with you. We’ve known for a while,” You stare at her, mouth agape. Doyeon reluctantly adds, “Since med school.”

“Oh.” You close your eyes for a moment. “Even Nayeon?” 

She nods. “Yes.” 

You’re silent for a while before you look away. Nodding, you whisper, “I see,” You sigh. “I don’t even… I’m not even surprised about that. Even my mother knows — I mean, Jungkook didn’t tell her of course, but she said she knew he had feelings for me.”

“I think… everybody knows, __.” Your eyes fall to Doyeon. She gives you a gentle smile. “Everybody who sees the way Jungkook looks at you immediately knows right away. He doesn’t have to tell someone he likes you for them to know that. Taehyung and I figured it out ourselves as well. And then Nayeon met you both and she did the same thing. Just had to fish out the confirmation from Jungkook himself.” 

“That’s…” you trail off, not really knowing what to say. “I’m really stupid for not noticing all this time, huh?”

“Hmm… maybe. Sort of. But also, not really. I guess it must’ve been just different for you. We’re just bystanders of your interactions — when Jungkook teases you like a fucker it’s easy to assume he’s flirting with you, but it must’ve been annoying as hell for you.”

You chuckle a bit. But it’s with fondness as you agree, “Yeah…”

“He sucks ass at flirting.” 

“I agree…” you trail off. “I – well, you probably know, but I told him I don’t believe him,” Doyeon hums, listening in. “I regret saying that. It really hurt him. But… who can blame me, Doyeon? I mean, am I not right for having doubts? Being confused? I mean, okay, yes, I was taken for the first four years we knew each other but I was— I was available two years ago and he didn’t— he didn't do anything. Why didn’t he do anything?” The words are coming off as a rant, you’re fully aware, but you let yourself go, anyway. “He was dating all those women and I just… how am I supposed to believe him when I thought he showed me the opposite?” 

“You mean how were you supposed to believe him when he sleeps around?”

You shut your eyes close. “I don’t– I don’t necessarily think he sleeps around, okay? Jungkook’s not a fuckboy or someone who sleeps with anyone with a pulse. He’s too grown for that shit. But I… I just meant, that… he dated a lot all throughout the time we knew each other, so where was I in the equation? You know what I mean?”

Doyeon stares at you for a bit, then she nods, looking ahead. “I know what you mean.” 

“Yeah?”

She nods. Then, “Are you worried he’s not sincere about his feelings? Because he dated a lot of people?”

“I-I’m not sure about that.” But maybe, that thought bothers you a bit.

“When was the last time he was with somebody?”

You don’t mean to sound defensive when you retort back with, “I wouldn’t know that. Contrary to popular belief, Jungkook and I do not actually talk about everything, and that includes our sex lives, but I know when he’s… seeing somebody.” 

“How?” Doyeon asks, looking at you. She wasn’t trying to trick you into anything, just genuine curiosity written all over her face.

You shy away from her gaze. “Four months ago… Nayeon’s engagement party. He was checking that woman out.”

“Oh… Kwon Jihyo?” 

Your brows furrow. “You know her?” 

Doyeon nods. “Yeah. Physio class back in freshman year. I talked to her at the party as well,” you grow more confused and Doyeon adds, “Also, she’s gay. Married with two kids.” 

“Oh.” 

That earns a chuckle from Doyeon. Tapping your arm, she tells you, “You don’t have a gay radar, it’s fine.” 

“Oh my god…” you slap a hand on your forehead. “I teased him about sleeping with her after the party…” 

You’ve always seen Jungkook as a regular ladies man in your head due to the fact that he gets women, quite very easily. Empirically, Jungkook goes on a lot of dates. But to be completely honest with yourself, you don’t even know the extent of those said dates. Jungkook doesn’t exactly oppose it when you lightheartedly tease him about being a playboy, but you do notice when that puts him off a bit.

Maybe you should’ve pried – maybe he gets put off because it’s simply not true? But you don’t think it’s not not true either, so… do you really think he sleeps around?

“Look,” Doyeon suddenly says which makes you look at her, snapping you out of your own messy thoughts. “I’m not trying to defend him or put in a good word for him or whatever. But I do know that you know him better than I do, so I’m sure you don’t actually think he isn’t sincere about his feelings for you. If you’re worried about his dating history, talk to him about that – but if we’re going by technical definition here, I don’t think Jungkook sleeps around, __. He doesn’t have a new woman switched out for another every seven business days, does he? Or is that a wrong assumption—”

“God, no,” you roll your eyes at her. “And anyway, why are we talking about this? I don’t care who he has sex with. He can do whatever he wants. He’s a grown man.”

“Yeah… but you just said it’s sort of the reason why you’re holding back.”

You feel blood rushing to your cheek because… that is true. You don’t even know why. Because you stand for what you said that he can do whatever the hell he wants. He’s young and he’s objectively attractive and he can have sex whenever he wants…

But somehow, that very thought — of Jungkook being with anybody that way, suddenly made a weird feeling flare up in your chest. You’ve never really paid it mind before, but right now that you now know what you know…

“It just kind of hurts a bit, I guess.” You say, not looking at Doyeon. “I mean, it’s irrational, really. I don’t expect him to be celibate for the eight years he’s claimed to love me, that’s just insane. I’ve also had sex with other people throughout the time and it would be unfair of me to dwell on the fact that he’s been with other people in the past when I also have but… it’s just… you know…” you trail off, and you feel like you’re gonna burst with so much embarrassment from the thoughts running through your head.

“I know… what?” Doyeon says, trying to fill in the gaps.

“I guess I just…” you swallow the lump in your throat. “I guess…. I guess I just expected him to want only me.” 

“Oh.” you look at Doyeon. “Oh wow. That’s…” 

You huff. “It’s childish, I know. It’s so stupid – I can’t think that. It’s unfair for him.”

Doyeon shakes her head. “No, I mean, I get that. I get that completely,” She scoots closer to you. “You have to know, though, that for the past eight years, Jungkook has tried many times to move on from you.” That words felt like a bucket of cold water. He’s tried…? Doyeon gives you a small smile when she notices the way your face fell. “It was really tough for him when you and Eunwoo got serious, but he couldn’t do anything about it. He tried seeing other people, in the hopes that they could make him feel what he does for you. He didn’t do that in vain – like he did it maliciously in hopes that you would get jealous or whatever. He did that – he does that – because he also genuinely wants to be with someone who can reciprocate his feelings. Min Sora was really close… but I don’t really know what happened to that. I’ve assumed since then that he must still probably love you. And he still apparently does, even to this day. I’m not saying all of this in favor of him, okay? But do you not want to give him a chance because of that? He really loves you, __. He admires you a lot. You don’t know how much he’s just in awe of you. He talks about you a lot when you’re not around, and he’d ditch just about anything to get to you with one call. Look… I don’t know what you feel, and at the end of the day, you call the shots. But I think he’s worth it, __. Because I know him as well and everybody knows he’ll treat you right. You just gotta give him the chance.”

You take in Doyeon’s words carefully.

“That’s not really the only thing I’m skeptical about,” you sigh. “Him having slept with other people is not the top of my concern, because we weren’t in any relationship. Again, I couldn’t have expected him to be celibate all this time. What I’m really worried about is the fact that he’s so— he’s so important to me, Doyeon. I’ve known him for eight years and he’s… he’s quite literally the best thing that ever happened to me—” you stop for awhile because you feel your voice breaking, just in time when the sides of your eyes sting with precedent tears. But you can’t cry right now. You’ve done that a lot in the past few days.  “And if— and if I do feel the same, and then we do this thing, what if it all goes wrong? I don’t – I can’t really bear the thought of him not present in my life. I have never considered that ever since I’ve known him. I’m so lucky with my friendships but my romantic relationships all suck. They’re shit. And I don’t want to have a shit romantic relationship with Jungkook, because that would mean I’d lose him. And I don’t want to lose him… do you— do you get me, Doyeon? I’m so scared. Because there's this part of me that wholeheartedly believes what he said, but there’s a bigger part of me that’s in denial because I can’t stop thinking about things going wrong.” 

“Hey,” Doyeon gently calls, and you don’t realize that you’ve been holding back a sob because the moment she scoots closer, arm circling your back, you bury your face in her chest and let out a quiet cry. She cradles your head, and you close your eyes at that. “What if things don’t go wrong, though? What if it works out?” 

You sniffle. “But things always go wrong for me and my boyfriends. I don’t know what I did to deserve it, but they just never end well.” 

Doyeon lets out a heavy breath. “I completely understand that. Again, you know Jungkook better than I do. Better than anybody I know, really. You would know exactly what he’s capable of – and that includes the possibility of him hurting you, or the lack of it thereof. It’s really your choice, __. Just… just talk to him, okay? He’s been wanting to, but you’re not reaching out and he said he didn’t want to suffocate you or anything like that.” 

You quickly perk up at that. “He said that?” Doyeon nods. It makes your shoulders deflate. “But… but we were in the elevator today and he…”

“He what?”

“He… uhm… well I said something stupid,” you wince, wiping the stray tears from your cheeks. “I said I miss him, but he didn’t – I don’t know. He didn’t say anything,” Nibbling on your bottom lip anxiously, you look at Doyeon reluctantly, gauging her reaction. “I think he actually hates me now.”

Doyeon is quiet for a moment before she speaks. “You just… you really have no clue how much he loves you, huh? You can kill a close relative of his and he’ll make excuses for you, I don’t doubt that even for a second,” She says and for a moment you’re a bit offended because you’re getting kind of tired of people pointing out that Jungkook being into you is obvious like how the grasses are green, but Doyeon shakes her head, face in pure disbelief. And you just know she didn’t mean it that way. She genuinely looks baffled. “You really need to talk, __. This is… it really hurts seeing you both like this."  

You tuck your head down. “I’m thinking about it.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I think… I’m going back to our place tonight. But I’m not sure. I’ll probably chicken out last minute.” 

Doyeon pats your arm. “Do it, okay? Just be honest with yourself and to him. You both need that.” 

You give her a small, weak smile.

You’re pretty much drained the moment you arrive at your place. Sighing heavily, you punch in the passcode and almost feel your knees buckling at the sight of the interior of your apartment. 

It feels like it’s been so long since you’ve been here, and coupled with the discussion that you had with Doyeon yesterday, everything suddenly feels overstimulating and there’s an urge at the sides of your eyes to cry. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you breathe in and out as you enter the threshold, noting the fact that nobody is at home. Or Jungkook isn’t present anywhere in the living room. You’re a bit grateful for that if you have to be honest to yourself – after all, the last time that you talked to him did not exactly go as well as you’d like. 

He could be in his room, though. That’s what you assume as you go straight over to the kitchen in hopes to heat up the take-out that you bought at the driveway. As you leave your phone on the counter, you notice the to-go container from Chipotle on the same surface, as well as the laptop that is left open beside it. 

So Jungkook is home. 

The question is, where could he possibly be, leaving out his stuff here in the kitchen? Might be in his bedroom to grab something real quick? 

You don’t mean to do the next thing that comes to your mind, but your feet – your stupid feet – track back from the microwave to the island, and your eyes betray you as they go look and read the words on the screen of Jungkook’s macbook. 

The tab that shows is an apartment listing website, and besides are more tabs that show some familiar real-estate names you’ve come to on the internet before when you were looking for a place. 

It makes you freeze in your spot, eyes glued to the daunting images of the apartment layout that Jungkook must’ve clicked on awhile ago, and you take note that he’s seemingly, specifically, looking for one-apartment bedrooms and studio apartments. 

Your mind goes into a sudden haywire at the sight. 

What does this mean? 

“Oh, hey,”

The embodied voice makes your head snap to its direction, and you see Jungkook standing in front of you in his sweats and shirt – his usual home clothes – with a charger in his hand. 

“Jungkook.” You say, or more like, breathe out. Your heart feels like it’s somersaulting for some reason at the sight of him. 

But Jungkook looks just as surprised as you. 

“I… I didn’t know you’re coming ho– back.” He says, and there’s a twinge in your heart that you ignore when you caught him pointedly avoiding the word home when pertaining to your place. Somehow, that felt intentional.

But you give him a smile. Probably a weak one. Probably doesn’t really look like a smile at all and more like a grimace. If Jungkook notices, he doesn’t say anything. Just goes straight to the direction of the highchairs on the island and plug in his charger for his laptop. 

Then, he turns to look at you. “Uh... you just got off from your shift?” 

“Yeah. You too?” You say, nibbling your bottom lip with your teeth. A nervous habit. 

“Nah, got off a few hours ago.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

“Yeah.” 

You nod your head. You stand there for a while, letting the silence that’s admittedly awkward hang in the air. 

It’s weird, really. Jungkook and you usually have a lot to say to each other – but right now, there doesn’t seem to be a single thing you can say to one another. 

It breaks your heart that’s the current case. 

“Well, uhm. That’s Zillow.” You say, pointing to his laptop. The moment the words left your lips you swear you could have slapped yourself. 

How stupid to ask him about it. How incredibly stupid for that thing to be your choice of topic after weeks of no proper communication with him. 

Jungkook seems surprised at this, though, turning his head immediately to look at his own laptop. There’s a certain jerk in his movements when he moves his fingers to the trackpad that closes the entire window of the internet and shows his wallpaper instead. 

“Oh. Yeah. That was… Zillow.” 

Stupid, stupid you makes everything even more awkward when you say, “You’re looking for a place?” 

Jungkook stares at you for awhile. There’s a pregnant pause, and then he nods his head. A bit hesitant. But his voice is full when he speaks. 

“Yeah.” 

So, he’s moving out. That’s what you think as you avoid looking at his face and let your gaze fall back to his laptop. 

You give him a small smile. 

“Ah. Good luck with the search, then.”

Your heart completely breaks when you say the words.

Suddenly, the words of your supposed confession get stuck and they die in your throat. You let yourself believe that coming home tonight would fix everything; you just had to go inside, talk to Jungkook, tell him you were sorry about what you said – and the rest would just do its thing and you'll be back to okay.

But he's moving out, and every bit of hope in you shuts down.

Jungkook doesn’t say anything for a while, and you’re just about to turn on your heels to go to your room but then he utters lowly, almost like a whisper. 

“It’s not final.” 

“Hm?” You hum, not sure if you caught that. 

Rubbing the back of his neck, Jungkook looks away as he says again, “I mean, I’m just looking. I was gonna talk to you before I finalize my plans.”

“Talk to me? Why?”

“Since we’re on a joint lease and all that.” 

“Oh.” You nod to yourself, dumbfounded. It's embarrassing the way you lit up with expectation when he said it wasn't final, for it to completely die anyway when he said that. You feel like you're not wanted. “Yeah. Right.” 

“I assume you’re tired from your shift, though, so maybe we can go over it tomorrow? Or any day you like, really.” Jungkook shrugs. 

“No, tonight’s fine,” You wave your hand, walking towards his direction and seating yourself on the chair beside him. You try to focus all your attention on the screen in front of you instead of Jungkook’s overwhelming presence. You’ve always thought he was big but tonight, he feels even bigger and you’re intimidated. “Are you writing a notice to the landlord?”

“Yeah – I mean, after we talk about the move, that is.” 

“Wow.” You can’t help but let out. “You really thought about all this while I was away?” 

You regret the words just as instantly as they leave your mouth. 

Looking at Jungkook hesitantly, you watch as his face falls, mouth opening and closing, as if at a loss for words. 

You take them back before he says something. “Sorry — I didn’t mean for it to come out that way.” Sharp and edgy, clipped and… angry. Sort of accusatory. Like you’re pinning something bad on him.

“It’s fine.” Jungkook says after awhile, returning back his gaze on the laptop. 

His withdrawal makes you deflate. He seems so uninterested. Is he done with you? Just like that?

“You know what,” You utter after a pregnant pause, standing up from the chair and getting back on your feet. “I actually have a headache. I think we should go over this tomorrow.”

Jungkook looks confused but he nods, anyway. “I just… stocked up on Advil yesterday. So, if you need it… it’s just in the kit.” 

“Sure. Thanks,” You give him a small smile. “I’ll, just go, uh, shower for a bit.” You point to the bathroom across from you. 

Before you go, Jungkook calls your name.

“__.”

You turn around to look at him. “Yes?”

“Are you…” He trails off. You wish he’d look at you like he usually does. “Are you back for good?”

You don’t expect that question at all. But you collect yourself on time to respond. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

Jungkook’s expression is something unreadable, so you throw him an awkward smile. You’re not sure if he returned it, because everything is becoming too much, and you can’t help but overthink every single thing he does. So, before you can dwell on that, you go straight to the bathroom to do your business. 

You shower quickly – you can’t focus when you know that Jungkook is just outside, and he can probably hear the water running. You’ve never really paid thoughts to these stuff except the first few weeks of moving in with him, but right now, there’s a certain awkward tension in the air and it’s slowly suffocating you. You needed to get out of the shower box quick.

And so you did, but you don’t expect the series of knocks on the door, with Jungkook’s voice behind it. 

“__?” 

“Y-yeah?” You stammer, wrapping your towel around you (that Jungkook thankfully hasn’t thrown out yet) with haste and getting to the door immediately to answer him. 

When you open it, Jungkook visibly freezes for a bit. And you realize you’re in nothing but a piece of cotton; bare underneath, droplets of water running through your body from the tips of your uncovered, wet hair. 

You consciously tighten the towel around your body, making sure to act unbothered when you say, “What?” 

Jungkook seems to snap out of the moment just as you did. When you follow the hand that he lifts, you see your phone in it. Weirdly enough, you had time to notice the way the device fits so small in his hand when you can barely wrap your phone around your fingers yourself.

What the actual fuck are you talking about, you tell yourself at the back of your head. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck—

“You left this on the counter. Mingyu’s been calling you.” 

It’s like you’ve been suddenly hit by a truck upon hearing the name.

“Oh. Okay. Sorry about that.” You take your phone when he offers it to you. You don’t know why but you avoid Jungkook’s eyes as you step out of the bathroom and press the decline button, causing the ringtone to stop abruptly. 

You don’t look back at him as you enter your bedroom, locking the door and throwing your phone on the mattress and going straight to your closet.

Nothing much has changed since the last seven or so days. What would change, anyway? It’s not like Jungkook has some sort of business in here. 

When you finished dressing yourself up with your usual pajamas, a worn-out tee and a pair of short shorts, you go over right to your bed, picking up your phone. 

The notification bar says that you have six missed calls from Mingyu and two texts. An upgrade from his three to four times in the previous days. 

See, it’s not only Jungkook or Doyeon or Nayeon or Taehyung whom you’ve been avoiding. It’s also Mingyu. The last time that you two talked was when you said goodbye to each other when he was catching his flight from the resort. You’ve completely shut everybody out after that thing happened, and again, it’s not your proudest moment. You’re only non-confrontational to a certain degree, but you usually handle your problems like a grown woman. 

You just really don’t know how to handle this one. 

But Mingyu’s been calling, and you haven’t answered or replied to any of his messages ever since. 

It’s just… everytime you think about him… it hurts.

It hurts to think of somebody you’ve given your trust to, only for them to step on it without any remorse. It hurts that you once thought he was going to be the one, only for him to end up as someone you’re starting to… hate. It hurts extremely that just eight days ago, you held this high level of adoration for him, but now you don’t feel anything at all but simmering anger. 

Sighing, you click on his message instead of sliding it out, gearing yourself for what you’re about to read.

gyu😽 [10:15pm]: Dinner at my place tonight? gyu😽 [10:32pm]: Can you pick up my calls?

You scrolled through the other ones he sent in the past week, and you find out that they’re simply just a variation of “do you want to have dinner together tonight”, “why aren’t you picking up?” and shockingly… a couple texts of “i miss you”. 

You’ve only been bullshitting when you told Jungkook that you had a headache, but right now that excuse might be true because you can feel a tick in your head, a certain bang on the front, and you just want all of this to end. 

Letting out a controlled breath, you swallow the lump in your throat as you type a reply. Finally.

You [10:50pm]: Can we talk tomorrow? 

To your surprise, Mingyu responds quickly.

gyu😽 [10:51pm]: of course. dinner?

You [10:52pm]: yeah. i get off at around 8 tomorrow.

gyu😽 [10:52pm]: I have some paperworks to attend to but 8 is fine by me.  gyu😽 [10:53pm]: Can we go to a restaurant? gyu😽 [10:53pm]: I haven’t cleaned my place so I thought we could go outside

You [10:54pm]: It’s alright. Also, no need to pick me up. I’ll uber. 

gyu😽 [10:55pm]: You sure?

You [10:56pm]: Yeah.

gyu😽 [10:56pm]: Alright then.

You don’t get a lot of sleep that night.

“Hey, sorry I’m a bit late. The partners had a meeting over at the firm,” Mingyu says, loosening his tie a little, breathing a bit sharp as he takes the seat across from you. 

You nod, giving him a small smile. Taking a sip from your water, you watch as Mingyu fixes his tie again, some sort of attempt to look kempt, like he hasn’t just run here. He was in a rush, and you feel bad that he had to go over here quickly when the partners meeting was probably something important. He could’ve canceled and you wouldn’t have mind. 

“So. Hi,” Mingyu greets you as if he’s making up for his rash entrance earlier. He gives you a smile, the one that’s his usual charming smile – you remember fawning over it the first time you met him. “How have you been?”

“Fine. I’ve been doing well.” you answer. In your lap, your fingers fiddle with each other.

You’ve thought about how you are going to go over this, but obviously the scenarios that played in your head yesterday and before you went here were so much more different than now. You weren’t an anxious mess in your imagination.

Mingyu nods. “That’s good to hear. Been doing fine as well.” He says casually. 

That makes something flare up in your chest.

Fine? He’s been doing fine? 

Before you can say something, a waiter comes up to your table to give you the menu, and that effectively keeps you from saying the words you were probably going to regret as soon as they come out of your mouth. 

You both tell your respective orders to the waiter before he walks away, leaving you two nodding and smiling ahead. When he’s gone, you’re left alone with Mingyu again. 

You look at him — and his usual suits and tie ensemble would usually make you gush internally about how good he looks, how you can still see the way he’s built under the pristine fabric of his clothes, and how attractive he is the way he carries himself. 

“I’m glad you called me tonight, sweetheart.”

And you don’t expect the way the hairs on your body tingle with… ick. 

“Sure.” You say, drinking from your glass of water again.

Just get over it, your mind convinces you. But how are you going to approach it?

Moments pass and then suddenly, Mingyu lets out a heavy breath. You peer up at him, raising a brow. 

“Alright, I’m not gonna skirt around this anymore, __,” He says, and his eyebrows are knitted in what seems like confusion when he meets your gaze. “What’s going on with you? You’ve been avoiding me.”

The confrontation somehow eases you even though it shouldn’t.

Licking your bottom lip – an anxious habit that you try hard to forgo – you compose yourself before you say, “I have. Yes, you’re right.”

“Why?” Mingyu asks with genuine curiosity. 

Somehow, this bothers you. Does he really not know or he’s just pretending not to know? Whichever it is, it does not really make you feel any better about him. If he’s pretending not to know, then he’s an even bigger asshole than you’re letting him on, but if he does not know, then that’s just even worse. Imagine doing all of those things and not being aware that you did something wrong enough to upset people? 

“I have to be completely honest with you, Mingyu. I want to break up.” 

The words come out easily as opposed to what you expected. 

Somehow, it’s strange, really. You’ve never dumped anybody before. Of course, you don’t count those casual dates you’ve had in the past two years because they were never that serious. But usually, in your long relationships, the other guy does the dumping and never you. 

So, right now, as you sit across from Mingyu, finally declaring what you’ve been thinking over the past week, you feel a sense of liberation. A cliché, really. There’s a feeling of discomfort gnawing at some parts of you, but you choose to ignore it, bravely meeting his gaze instead. 

“What?”

“I want to break up with you.” You reiterate, this time fuller so he knows your decision is final.

His mouth opens and closes, and there’s a pregnant pause that hangs in the air before he finds his tongue. “But why?” 

“Are you serious?” You can’t help but snap. “Do you really not know?” 

“No. Fill me in, because I’m confused.” Mingyu doubles down, and it fires you up a little bit. 

“Mingyu, Jungkook told me everything,” You say, and you notice the way his expression changes into something more… unreadable the moment you dropped Jungkook’s name. “And I mean everything. What you did with his girlfriend back in college, and what you said about me to goad him into a fight. I mean, what were you thinking, Mingyu? All of that was just… low. Even for you. I can’t believe you’d do any of that.” You catch your breath after you say the words, not realizing how heavy it would feel to let them out. You’ve never been confrontational, would prefer if the other person did all the talking, and to do this right now is taking so much from you.

“He told you everything?” Mingyu asks again. You watch as he relaxes his posture, and you grow confused when his lips curl into a smirk. “I knew he would do that. Come crying to you with his lovesick head. Did he finally grow some to tell you he loves you, then?” 

You recoil, not expecting that. “That’s none of your business.”

“It is my business. You’re my girlfriend.”

“I’m not anymore.”

Mingyu inhales a sharp breath. “So, you’re choosing him?” 

“I—I— what?” you blurt out, surprised at his audacity. “I’m not choosing anybody. And it’s really bold of you to assume that you’re still one of my options after all that.” 

Scoffing, Mingyu drinks from his water. He looks at you with a blank stare as he says, “Well, be honest with me now. Do you love him?” 

“Do I love him?” You chuckle, not the least bit of humor in it. “You don’t really deserve my honesty, Mingyu. You had all of those four months to be honest with me and you didn’t do shit. Don’t ask me any personal questions and expect me to give you an honest answer. Because I won’t give you any of it.” 

“You said a lot of things but I know you love him just as much as he loves you.”

“What are you talking about?”

This time, Mingyu’s tone borders on sharp when he leans down to get to you closer so you can hear him clearly. “You think it was easy for me to be in a relationship with you when all you could talk and think about was Jungkook? Jungkook who was only supposedly your bestfriend?” It’s said with so much wrath that you can’t help but physically recoil at his words. When you don’t say anything, Mingyu continues, “Jungkook told me this movie’s good, Jungkook said their aglio e olio tastes great, Jungkook and I were just talking about this — I could go on how many times you’ve always managed to insert him in anything even when we’re together, but I did not want to be that kind of boyfriend who got jealous over their girl’s friends, and I was that for you – and you think I’m the bad guy here?”

You blink, mouth opening and closing. You fish for some words, something to defend yourself with. Have you really said all that? Did you really do that? Did you really talk about Jungkook enough times that Mingyu took notice of it? 

You’ve always thought that your friendship with Jungkook is platonic. You’ve convinced yourself of that and Jungkook seemed to think the same — at least that’s what you thought prior to his confession – and you like to think that your friendship works, even though the majority of people don’t agree that opposite genders can be purely friends.

But… did you think wrong? Did you really just convince yourself it was platonic when all along… it was not? 

You don’t exactly recall the moments that you talked about him while you were with Mingyu. It’s hard to when talking about Jungkook just comes like second nature. You don’t count the times you see the grass being green – because they are and will always be green. 

And that’s what Jungkook is to you. He’s been such a constant presence in your life that you can’t help but bring him up in any case because… because it just feels right to do so.

Now you think about your relationship with Eunwoo. How he never really liked Jungkook. Did he think the same as Mingyu? Did you also talk about your best friend too much in his presence? Did he count the times you mentioned Jungkook’s name in your conversations? Do you really talk so much about him?

“See?” Mingyu says after a while and it snaps you out of your stupor. “Don’t tell me I’m a liar when you’ve also been lying to me this whole time.” 

“How dare you?” You snap at him. You can take him pointing out about the thing with Jungkook, but never this. “I didn’t hide anything from you. I was not the one with the history of cheating with their friend’s girlfriend and I didn’t talk behind your back like you’re merely just a piece of meat.” 

Mingyu visibly stills and you bite your lip after saying the words. You didn’t mean for it to come out that way. Didn’t really mean to say that in the first place. But it’s done and you can’t cry over spilled milk. 

Doesn’t negate the fact that you feel like shit, though.

“You think I didn’t regret what I did?” Mingyu says, a little quiet this time. If you weren’t at the quieter part of the restaurant, in a booth where the sound of the classical music and people’s chatters are muffled, you won’t hear him at all. “Jungkook and I were close, __. We really were. And I fucked up and ruined his trust. But you also don’t know how and why that happened. Jiyeon was already cheating on him before she hit on me–” 

“Oh, so is that the part where you volunteered to be one of her “victims”, too?” You say sarcastically, cutting him off, incredulous about the fact that he’s really trying to make excuses for himself right now. 

“We were fucking drunk– and high, okay? We didn’t know what we were doing.” Mingyu says through his teeth, and it’s the first time you see him lose control. He’s always so kempt and so composed, it’s baffling you’re seeing him in this state.

But you refuse to believe his bullshit. 

“You know what, I don't know why you’re saying this to me. You should be saying this to Jungkook and frankly, I simply don’t care. What happened back then is between you – don’t include me into any of your arguments ever again,” You say exasperatedly. “My issue is that – and why I’m breaking up with you in the first place – is that you lied to me, Mingyu. You lied to me about so much. And If I were to go through this relationship with you longer, I don't know what else you’re going to lie to me about, and I don’t want that. Let’s not waste each other’s time and end it right here, right now.” 

Mingyu leans back on his seat. “I can’t change your mind even if I apologize to you about that, huh?”

You shake your head.

He nods. 

“Alright.” 

You look at him again.

Kim Mingyu has sharp features that usually make him look broody from an outsider perspective, but you’ve seen the way he smiles and how gentle he looks when he does. Right now, though, he looks… genuinely sad. 

He lied to you, yes, but somehow, there’s still some part of you that wants to know if he felt the least bit genuine about you. That it wasn’t all just a ploy to get to Jungkook. 

“Did you really like me? Even for a moment?” You break the silence, voice breaking slightly at the end. 

Mingyu looks up at you and you don’t expect the way his lips curl up into a small smile. “Yes, __. I did. I liked you the first time we met and believe it or not, I still have feelings for you right now.”

You look away to avoid his intense gaze. 

It’s weird. It’s so weird. Because even though you know in your heart that he’s not and will never be good for you and that he’s not a loss, your heart still aches at the declaration. 

“I don’t really know if I believe that.” You say, almost like a whisper. 

“I’m sorry, then.” Mingyu says, and it sounds so sincere that you start to feel some sort of stinging in both sides of your eyes.

In what seemed like forever, the waiter arrives with your orders, and you both look up and offer him a hand in placing them on your table, bidding him thanks as he once again walks away. 

You and Mingyu both look at your food. 

“I think I’m going first. I have a trial tomorrow, so I need to take care of that.” He says suddenly. 

Nibbling your bottom lip, you watch as he begins to fix his shirt, ready to stand up. 

“Okay.” 

“__?” You look up at him when he calls your name. He seems to hesitate for a bit, but he says, “Can you… can you tell Jungkook I’m sorry?” 

Staring at his face, you try to look for a hint of sarcasm. Or anything indicative of malice. But all you see is sincerity. 

At that, you shake your head. “No.” Mingyu’s face falls. “Talk to him yourself if you really are sorry. I’m not your mailman, Mingyu.” 

He sighs. “Alright. I guess you’re right,” And then, “And I’m saying sorry, to you too, you didn’t deserve that. I was angry, and that’s not an excuse. So, I’m sorry. Will you…” he clears his throat. “Will you ever forgive me?”

You shrug. “I don’t know. Probably.” 

Mingyu gives you a timid smile. “Okay.” 

When he takes out his wallet and a black card from there, you instantly stop him from calling over the waiter. 

“No, it’s fine, I’ll take care of it. I’m the one who invited you here.” You say, talking him out of paying. 

He shakes his head, insisting, “It’s okay.”

“Seriously, I can handle it.” 

Mingyu lets out a chuckle which makes you smile a bit before you scold yourself. 

“I know. But can you let me? This is… this is probably the last time we’ll see each other.” 

At that, you relax back in your seat, staring at him. He stares right back at you. 

With a slow nod, you let him call over the waiter.

He departs with a small goodbye that you return with a timid wave. 

When you go home that night, you cried yourself to sleep, thankful that Jungkook hasn’t come home from his shift yet.

Things are… fine. 

Unlike your previous break-ups that left you in agony for the following days after it happened, the one with Mingyu did not really leave a huge emotional impact. It makes you wonder if you’ve overestimated your feelings for him… makes you question yourself if you really thought he was the one when things were fine, and you both dated happily. 

You don’t bother yourself looking for answers, because the relationship is done and there’s no point in going over the details when it’s you yourself who ended the ties. 

While that is not the sole reason of your melancholic feeling these days, it lies on another person; your roommate, Jungkook – your best friend of eight years who’s apparently been in love with you the whole time. 

It’s only been a few weeks ever since you talked about him moving out. He said it was about time for him to leave the place – he’s been here longer than you, after all. He wrote and sent the notice to his landlord, and it’s been about two weeks since then, so you assume he’s already got his approval. 

While things may look normal and right from an outsider’s perspective… things aren’t exactly the way they were before.

Jungkook and you are close. You share almost everything together. Your friendship has been honed throughout the many years and obstacles you’ve faced together and so it’s only natural for you two to be as close.

But nowadays… you can feel that closeness slipping away. It flares up something inside you; like that feeling of grief when you remember that friend in highschool who you stopped talking to after graduation. You don’t know exactly what the reason is for the abrupt end of communication, but the finish line is there and you’ve both reached it without the other knowing – and you’re left fending for yourselves, looking ahead at your own worlds and letting your lives flow to the stream of the river. 

It’s strange, really; how everything feels somewhat normal but also really under that condition. 

Jungkook and you would text each other nonstop – he could be in his own room, and he’d still text you about random shit that ends up with him going to your room anyway just to annoy you for a bit before you kick him out and you both go to sleep. He’d ask to borrow something – anything, ask your food preference for the night, and he’d always ask you when your shift ends so you can go together if your schedules align. Meanwhile, you ask him to join you in the living room for spontaneous movie nights, ask him to give you a massage, and you’d both talk about your days, catching up on the hours you weren’t together.

And now there’s none of that. 

Now, you both greet each other when the other one gets home almost like a chore. Like how your roommate from college used to welcome you when you arrived at the dorm from classes. When either you or he is in the living room or something, you’d both tell each other that “Dinner’s in the fridge, you can microwave it”, instead of “What do you think we should have for dinner?”. Jungkook asks if you need a ride to the hospital because he knows you don’t have a car anymore, but you refuse because it’s obvious it’s just for formality. 

You don’t know if it’s just the overthinker in you, but it feels like Jungkook’s pulling back and he has no intention of making things right – or talk about what happened. 

He’s so… he’s so civil.

And you miss him so much it makes you sad.

It makes you confused. Sort of mad. He makes you feel a lot of things – but you hate that you’ve just been compartmentalizing and not doing any processing at all. 

You spent the past few weeks pointing out to yourself the differences that your relationship is going through. You spend some nights beating yourself up whether to go barge in his room and confront him with everything – but you do none of that. 

Instead, you pretend everything’s okay. At the hospital, you’ve no longer avoided him and said hi which he returns with a smile. Nayeon, Taehyung, and Doyeon, thought at first that everything’s back to normal, but you know they’re slowly realizing that it has not. 

Tonight, though, at Nayeon’s reception party after her wedding, you try hard to ignore all those angsts and choose to enjoy yourself instead. It’s Nayeon’s big day. The last thing you wanted to be was a bum.

Everybody is socializing with each other, and since you’ve had your fair share of conversations with other people at this point, you choose to sit out on the dance.

Suddenly, Billy Joel’s Uptown Girl is playing and the majority coos and exclaims in excitement as they hurry to the dancefloor, some taking their partners along with them.

“Look, they’re playing your favorite song.” 

Your head snaps to the side in reflex to see who it was, only to see Jungkook. Words get caught in your tongue for a moment, a bit surprised to see him. You mean – sure, he’s been here for a while. It is Nayeon’s wedding, after all, but weirdly enough, you two haven’t shared a conversation yet throughout the day. 

Until now, anyway.

Recovering from your initial surprise, you scoot over to the side, giving him space to maybe… sit beside you? 

“That’s not my favorite song.” You scoff, sipping on your champagne right after, looking right ahead as you feel Jungkook situating himself on the chair beside you.

“Oh… has it changed now?” Jungkook says, and there’s a lilt of teasing tone to it that you look at him in wonder. 

Meeting his gaze, you find he’s just smiling at you. He’s in an off-white tux, a lily pinned on his chest pocket. He’s done his hair in that usual way he cleans up for formal events like this, gelled and parted slightly off center to show off his forehead. It’s slightly longer than you’ve last noticed it looked, and you think he hasn’t been trimming it… 

Nonetheless, he looks simply put… dashing. 

“I change my favorite song every five to seven business days,” you say coolly. “Anyway, why aren’t you there?” you point to where the flock of people is having a ball to Billy Joel.

Truthfully, you kind of wish you were there as well. You’ve always danced to that song in your room or in the shower.

“I’m right where I want to be,” Jungkook shrugs. “Why aren’t you there?” 

You lie, “I’m right where I want to be as well.” 

He hums. “You don’t want to show them your moves?” 

You look at him in disbelief, gawking at him. “Are you teasing me?” 

Jungkook widens his eyes, but you know he knows what you’re talking about, and it sounds like he’s trying to keep from laughing when he says, “No. I just happen to know you’re a great dancer.” 

With that, you feel yourself getting carried away by how easily your conversation goes. It makes you think about the old times – where talking to him always made your day because he's funny and he makes you laugh and you make him laugh.

“Fuck off. You know very well I have two left feet.” You chuckle, shaking your head at him.

“Wasn’t the case when you were dancing inside a boiler room during med school at that rave party we went to, but okay.”  

You can’t help but laugh louder, and with that, you jab a lighthearted slap to his bicep without thinking too much of it. 

“I told you that never happened.” 

“Oh…” Jungkook puts down his champagne and cocks his head to the side. “What happened?” 

You giggle. Yes, giggle. Like a schoolgirl. And you watch as Jungkook joins in your laughter, taking the glass close to his face to sip from it. 

Then: “You wanna dance?” Jungkook suddenly says, but he’s looking at the dancefloor. 

“Hm. Dunno. Uptown Girl isn’t exactly rave music.” 

That earns you a chuckle from Jungkook. “But it’s fun music, right?” 

Soon after, he stands up from his seat. You look at him questioningly, but he mirrors it back with an expectant gaze and a raised brow. Seeing you getting apprehensive, he offers his hand and that’s when you roll your eyes, taking his hand as you pretend to stand up against your will and follow him to the crowd.

You chuckle as Jungkook suddenly sways his hips to the upbeat of the song, moving his arms around playfully. You’d like to think he’s doing that intentionally – to make you laugh? Loosen up? Whatever the idea behind it, it’s effective, because you can’t stop laughing as you watch him. 

“Come on, we do this all the time!” Jungkook says over the loud music and people’s candid chattering.

And he’s not wrong because you do have mini parties in the living room of your apartment, pretending like the city before the glass wall across the area is your audience. 

But you two are usually drunk during those moments, and right now, with only one glass of champagne, you’re not near being tipsy. 

“This is so silly!” You exclaim, but you find yourself matching Jungkook’s spontaneous choreography, and it earns you a laugh from him as well. 

“And when she’s walking, she’s looking so fi-i-ne,” Jungkook sings along, gesturing to you. You cover your face because you can’t stop laughing at how he looks – how you two must look – but you’re almost sure nobody’s paying attention because everybody is just having fun on their own. He has a good voice, though – even though he’s trying to act goofy with it. Jungkook doesn’t like when people point it out, or more like, gets shy when you bring it up. 

Suddenly, he steps closer to you and reaches for your hand. Looking at him with confusion, still with that wide grin on your face, he gives you a playful smile before he guides your arm upwards. You utter a sound of a delighted snort, understanding where he’s getting at. With Jungkook guiding you, you do a mildly successful turn that makes you both laugh because as you were just getting back in your original position, you almost trip. Good thing that Jungkook’s there to catch you by the waist, the contact only lasting for a brief second before he lets go to dance on his own again. 

“I wish I was an uptown girl!” You yell over the music.

“You’re kinda an uptown girl if you think about it.” Jungkook responds, nodding his head as if he believes that. 

You chuckle, shaking your head at him. “No.” 

“Yes, you are. You’re sophisticated and elegant.”

“Well, this—” you point between your bodies, “– is not very sophisticated and elegant of me.” 

“Touché.” Jungkook laughs.

“But will you be my downtown man?” You say, not really thinking too much about it but then you suddenly realize what you just said and you’re about to add something to it – like putting a disclaimer that it was just a joke. 

But then Jungkook leans closer, ducks down to level with your ear. “I can be if you want me to.” 

The song ends and you barely had time to process what just happened before the soft piano progression of Carole King’s Will You Love Me Tomorrow begins to play. 

You hear the collective “Aww”s from the audience and you watch as everybody suddenly pairs up with someone else. As the first lyric of the song is sung, you can feel the upbeat energy from earlier dropping to a calmer atmosphere. Romantic, you’d say it is.

When you look at Jungkook again, he has a small smile on his face. It’s as gentle as the piano behind the song. 

“Can I?” He says. 

You nibble on your bottom lip. “You want to?”

Jungkook only nods, still smiling.

“Only if you want to as well.” 

You look around again. It’s not hard to spot Taehyung from afar on the dancefloor as well, with a gorgeous Hyerin in his arms. He doesn’t seem to notice you looking, though, but you watch the way he ducks down to whisper something in her ear, prompting a laugh from her. 

Putting your gaze back to Jungkook, you blink as you say, “It’s… okay, I guess.” 

“Okay?” Jungkook clarifies. You nod your head and he smiles that dashing smile again before he steps closer to you.

Slowly, he puts a hand around your waist. And you know he did it awhile ago, but the contact ended so briefly that you didn’t really have the chance to… somehow… savor it, maybe? But right now, as you fumble with your own hand, deciding whether or not you should put a hand on his waist as well, the proximity makes your breath hitch. 

Your heart beats abnormally fast against your ribcage, and usually, it’s not hard to stare Jungkook in the face – but you find it a difficult task to do nowadays. 

Jungkook, unsuspecting of your inner dilemma, only seems to notice your confusion with your hand placement, chuckling as he guides your wrist to his shoulder. He raises his other arm with yours and interlocks your fingers with his mid-air.

“There,” Jungkook says once you’re in the right position. “Now we look like professional dancers.” 

You wince. “What’s the next step?” 

“You’re taking this very seriously,” Jungkook snorts as he begins to move his feet. 

You try to match his pace, and that distracts you from the fact that you're so close you can smell his cologne very well. 

“Where did you learn this?” You ask instead, quite amazed at how Jungkook is approaching this. It’s not like you’ve never slow danced in your life – but you weren’t kidding when you said you have two left feet. 

“Wikihow.” 

“Wow.” 

“They can be super reliable at times,” Jungkook chuckles as he continues to swing you both gently. “Stop looking down.” 

You groan. “Ugh, no. I’m trying very hard not to not step on you.”

“So what if you step on me? Just relax.” 

Jutting your bottom lip out, you look up at him. “My heels are Louboutin.” 

“Even better.” 

“Stop.” You break away from his hold with your other hand to jab at his chest lightly. Jungkook lets out an “Owe!” but you know it didn’t actually hurt when he just grins down at you, placing his hand on your waist instead so now he’s just… simply holding you.

You ignore the weird feeling in your chest at the action, choosing to keep your hand on his chest. 

“You wanna know something?” You whisper. Jungkook hums. “I didn’t go to prom in highschool.” 

“What? Why?” Jungkook genuinely seems surprised to hear that.

You smile sadly, looking back at the memory bitterly. “Changsub and I were fighting around that time because I saw him at the mall with some girl the previous week. I was so angry that I didn’t care about what I’d be missing out on. My mom tried really hard to get me to attend, but I was very stubborn. Now I still regret not going to prom. My dress was really pretty back then too but I didn't even get to wear it.” 

“Damn,” Jungkook utters. “He really was such a dick to you, huh?” 

“Yeah. But it was still on me, though… I can’t believe I let a boy make me miss out on prom night.” You pout.

Jungkook’s quiet for a while before he abruptly stops his swaying. You look at him in confusion as he lets go of your waist. 

“Well, I don’t have a corsage… but this can maybe do?” He fumbles with his chest first before he takes out the silk lavender handkerchief from his suit’s pocket that matches his tie and the lily on his chest. He looks at you for a while before he takes your wrist in his hand. Your brows knit together as he ties the fabric around your wrist, making sure to finish it up with a ribbon – an attempt at a ribbon, that is. 

You chuckle. “What’s this?” 

Jungkook grins. “You wanna know something too? I didn’t have a date on prom night – was too scared to ask anybody out. I went home after the first hour. Wasn’t really a fond memory. So, prom night definitely sucked for me… what I’m saying is that, it’s not really all that.” 

You duck your head down to laugh, partly to hide the flutter in your heart at his words.

“So, like, is this our – what – our upgraded prom night?” 

Jungkook nods proudly. He takes both your hands as you laugh, wrapping them around his neck, taking you by the waist again. 

This time, you don’t feel like your breath is being taken away.

You feel… serene. The beating of your heart is back to normal. You realize, there’s a sense of comfort that comes from being close to him like this – talking and laughing like good old times. 

You miss him. You miss him so much and you can’t believe you ever considered accepting a life without him in it. 

“The dress looks good on you, by the way,” Jungkook comments, and it sounds so sincere that you can’t help but smile. As if that wasn’t enough to melt your heart, he adds, “And you look really beautiful.” 

“T-thanks,” you stammer, taken aback at the almost intimate way he looks right into your eyes as he said that. You tighten your hold around his neck. “You don’t look so bad yourself.” 

“Thank you.” 

You both chuckle, though there was nothing really funny said in particular.

Carole King’s gentle voice soothes you as Jungkook takes the lead of the dance. You’re not even doing anything other than just going with the flow, letting him take you wherever. There’s a moment when you were sure you stepped on his shoe, but Jungkook’s quick to dismiss you with a hush and saying it was nothing. 

Tonight with words unspoken,

You say that I’m the only one

But will my heart be broken,

When the night meets the morning sun

You scoff as you finally hear the lyrics.

That may have taken a hit on you. 

“This is so stupid.” You say.

Jungkook’s quick to react.

“Rude. I’m literally giving you a prom night from scratch.”

You look at him and you feel bad because he genuinely seems offended at your supposedly throw-away comment.

Shaking your head, you tap his chest lightly. “No, no. I mean– the lyrics. The song.”

Jungkook arches a brow. “I have a video of you crying over this song in your car when it came up on your playlist.” 

“I didn’t cry over this song.” You roll your eyes. 

“Not as much as you did over Silver Springs, anyway.” 

“Oh my god, why do you know so much, Jesus,” you hiss, embarrassed at being confronted by your dramatic antics. “I just meant, why are they playing such a sad song at a wedding? Who approved this?” 

“Eh,” Jungkook shrugs. “Maybe Nayeon’s a Carole King fan.” 

“Is she?” you ask, genuinely curious. If she is, she never told anybody.

“Maybe…?” 

You can’t help but laugh because of how the conversation progressed. Jungkook laughs as well, and he takes the jab you send to his chest with a light hand. They’re really hard, you think, and you don’t know what comes over you as you lean your head down and let your body fall towards him, laying your cheek on the lapel of his suit. It’s warm.

You feel Jungkook stilling in his position at your sudden action, but soon enough, he does nothing to pry you off like you feared for a moment he would, tightening his arms around your waist and swinging you both in that kind of laxed way. 

Shutting your eyes close, you let the soft melody of the song ease your nerves, basking in Jungkook’s presence and his familiar scent. 

You stay like that for a while, and just when the song is coming to an end, you feel Jungkook’s breathe in your ears, his lips almost brushing to the tips of your ears when he says, “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything back then, but I really miss you too.” 

You drank more champagne than you anticipated and it’s why you wobble your way into the bathroom to do some half-ass retouch. Just as when you were putting away your make-up, Nayeon comes out from one of the cubicles. 

“Hey, you gorgeous, gorgeous girl,” She says with a huge smile, now changed into a much simpler dress, in contrast to her voluminous one earlier.

You mirror her grin, opening your arms wide to engulf her in a hug. “Hi to you too. Congrats again on the wedding. I’m so incredibly happy for you. You and Minhyuk are perfect.” 

When Nayeon breaks apart from your hug, she looks at you closely. “I saw you with Jungkook earlier. Lots of people saw you two earlier.” 

“What?” 

“I mean… slow dancing to Will You Love Me Tomorrow in a weirdly intimate way was kind of insane, if you ask me.” 

“Oh, uhm…” you feel blood rushing to your cheeks as you grow embarrassed at the thought of people catching you in that position. You remember after the song ended, you made up some excuse about going to the bathroom to pee and you did – but you pointedly tried to stay out of Jungkook’s sight ever since.

One step forward, three steps back.

“How are you two by the way?” 

“We’re fine.” You say, giving her a reassuring smile. 

Nayeon stares at you for a moment. Then, she sighs. “You’re not, are you?”

“No, we really are. We’re– we’re talking, right?” You point out.

“But… he’s moving out of your place.”

“Well, he needs a change of scenery. He’s been there for four years so he must be tired living there.” 

Nayeon stares at you again and when you look at her face, your heart twinges as you see the disappointment written all over her features. 

“I don’t understand you both, really. You have this… this beautiful thing going on and you’re choosing to ignore that? It’s obvious that you feel something for him, __. Just be honest with him and see where it goes. I know you two are pretending that everything’s fine but you’re both hurting each other and you’re acting like it’s nothing – it’s all just unnecessary angst at this point. What are you two doing?” Nayeon asks. 

“I…”

“Come on, __. Do you really want to let each other go? Do you really want to drift apart? Because it’s been almost a month of pussyfooting. And I don’t know if you’re just expecting that your luck is not gonna run out, but it is going to. And I know you’re going to regret it.” 

You stare at Nayeon while listening to her words. You don’t expect the sharp edges to her voice. You’ve always thought that if someone was going to call you out on your bullshit – it was going to be Doyeon. She’s the bluntest in the group and would not hesitate to tell someone if they’re being a bitch or not – so you don’t expect Nayeon to be like this at all because she’s always been a soft-spoken sweetheart.

It's not like Doyeon hasn’t been harsh, either, though. You had a drink with her and Taehyung a month ago and let’s just say she kind of ranted about you feeling like you’re in a romcom or something. 

She shuts her eyes close, and you can just feel her frustration emanating. “I’m sorry – I know I’m being harsh right now. But I just can’t bear seeing you two like this. I just got married today and I feel like I’m learning and realizing so much right now and one of those is that I’m extremely lucky to have found someone I’m so sure of, and while Minhyuk was saying his vows I looked back at my past relationships and just thought that… that I’m so glad I was finally at that point and… and right now I can’t stop thinking about you two,” Nayeon sighs. “You two love each other so much. Everybody can see it. Why are you both running away from each other? What gives?” 

You look away.

You both do love each other. They are right.

And while you can’t exactly say if what you feel for Jungkook right now bounds in being in love – there’s quite literally only one thing in the world that you’re certain of, and it’s that he’s the most important person to you – the only one you can think of spending a lifetime with and not get sick of it.

And that was something.

But…

“Because it’s scary.” You say, finally.

“What’s scary?”

You inhale a sharo breath.

“For eight years I’ve always thought that we were only platonic. But somewhere in my head I always thought that he was my soulmate, you know? I thought about us ending up together and I remember liking that thought. But years went by, and nothing ever happened and I swear I was happy with Eunwoo but you know what I’m ashamed of all this time that I never told anybody?” Your vision of Nayeon gets blurry as you begin tearing up. “I think… I have been in denial for so long. I think… I think I secretly looked for a part of Jungkook in Eunwoo and I think Eunwoo knew that. I think everybody who I’ve ever been with knew that except for myself. Because I was in denial. Even right now, I’m still in denial. You don’t know how – you don’t know how strange it is to suddenly wake up and realize that you don’t see your friend as a mere friend anymore. You don’t know how hard it is to overthink things – like what if it doesn’t work out and everything falls apart? Our friendship is so important to me, I hold it in the highest regard, and I don’t want anything to ever go against it. But now I’m doing that myself and I just… I hate it. But I don’t know what to do. Jungkook’s moving out just like it seems like he’s moving on and I’m scared that I’m too late to do anything.” 

Your speech leaves Nayeon’s mouth agape, clearly not expecting your outburst. But she recovers quickly. She steps closer in front of you, and in a second, engulfs you in a hug. 

“I’m sorry,” you sniff, making sure to not let your tears fall down her dress. “I think I’ve been keeping that for a long time.”

“It’s okay… I’m glad you said that.” 

“Yeah… I think I’m glad too,” you both chuckle. 

“__?”

You hum.

“Just talk to Jungkook. If you’re worried about him moving out, he’s not. I can tell you that much.” 

You break the hug and look at Nayeon. “Nayeon, he literally has everything packed. I think he’s leaving early in the morning tomorrow.”

Nayeon fixes a strand of stray hairs from your hair framing your face. “Hm. He has?” You nod. “Well, as I said, he’s not leaving. Trust me. But you have to tell him everything that you told me just now. Be honest, __. It feels scary right now but, try to take a leap of faith, okay? This is not some toxic positivity shit or anything like that, but just be honest, alright?” 

Nibbling on your bottom lip, you look at her hesitantly. “Are you… are you sure?” 

Nayeon nods, and she looks so sure of herself that it may have fired up a little bit of hope in you. 

The party is still ongoing, but you decide that it’s time for you to clock out. After you bid your goodbyes to Nayeon and her now husband, to Doyeon and to Taehyung, you head out of the venue to try and book a taxi. You couldn’t find Jungkook earlier at the party, so you decided to send him a text that says you were going home. 

“Need a ride?” 

The ever-familiar voice expectedly appears to be Jungkook when you look at him. 

“Hey,” you greet. “No. I was just about to book an Uber.” 

Jungkook’s brows furrow. You think he looks handsome under the moonlight. “We can ride together in my car. I’m going home as well.”

“N-no, no, ‘s really fine,” you wave your hand, emphasizing your point. 

Jungkook grows more confused. Then: “Are you drunk?” 

You wince, hating that he instantly knows right away. 

“Sorta, kinda…” 

“And you want to Uber?” You pout. You hear him scoff. “There’s no way I’m leaving you alone in this state. Okay, let’s get you to my car.” 

“I’m fine, really,” you say but it sounds whiny even to your ears. 

“You can be stubborn all you want. But in the passenger’s seat.” Jungkook gives you a sharp stare, but his hold on your wrist is gentle as he guides you to the parking lot. 

He wears the seatbelt around your waist and lets you settle on your seat, rounding the car to get behind the wheel right after. You look away. You thought he'd be more... not nice to you since you just left him earlier with a poor excuse.

You feel guilty. So guilty. Jungkook is so... he makes you feel so loved but you're just... so confused. You're so scared it doesn't even make sense.

When he starts the engine, he asks, “Why did you drink so much?” 

It's easy to ignore the heavy thoughts in your head when you're half-asleep at this point.

“I dunno. The champagne was so good… I bet it was probably expensive. I can’t have that much free stuff until –” you stop, as if remembering something, sitting upright. “When is Taehyung’s wedding?” 

“He doesn’t have a wedding, ba—__. He hasn’t proposed to Hyerin yet.” 

You slump in your chair hearing that. 

“Why? They’re so perfect together… they should marry…” You say before dropping back down to your seat again. The AC in Jungkook’s car whirrs softly in your ear, and when you look to the side, you find yourself staring at his side profile.

He’s taken off his white coat, now left with a white shirt and his purple tie. He’s pushed the sleeves up to his forearms, showing the veins all over them.

“Jungkook.” you call him.

“What is it?” He says, momentarily looking at you before focusing back on the road.

“Can I…” you look at his hand. You sniff. “Can I hold your hand?”

Well, he does not expect that at all. But he smiles anyway, taking off one hand on the wheel and reaching for your own hand over the center console. You watch the way his huge palm dwarfs your own, and you almost sigh in relief when he laces his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand as he rests it over his thigh.

The last thing you hear is Jungkook’s soft chuckle before you completely drift off to sleep. 

When you awake, you’re in your room. Seconds after regaining consciousness, you notice the banging in your head – and when you blearily open your eyes, reaching around for your phone, you don’t find it. 

Groaning, you stand up from your bed, realizing you’re now in a shirt and some pajamas. But weirdly enough, you seem to still have your bra on.

You peek through the inside of your shirt and alas, the white lace of your bra from last night’s event welcomes you, and when you stretch the waistband of your shorts to check on your panties, you still adorn the pair of white thong, which means only one thing. 

You haven’t changed completely out of the garments you’ve worn to Nayeon’s wedding and you wonder how it all happened. When you look to the side, your clutch is placed on the nightstand and so you grab it, relieved to find your phone there. 

Shockingly, you read it’s only over 2 am. 

With furrowed brows, you go over to the mirror to check your ensemble. Your face isn’t and doesn't feel as heavy with make-up as it was back at the venue, and you’re definitely dressed down now. 

You remember passing out in Jungkook’s car after he insisted that you ride with him… and everything had been a blur since then. 

Suddenly, an idea goes into your head. 

Did Jungkook… change your clothes and remove your make-up? That’s the only plausible thing that you can consider because you honestly don’t remember ever dressing yourself or going to the bathroom to remove your make-up. And if you did change out of the gown, you would've opted out of your underwear as well. 

Maybe Jungkook did all that. 

And the thought makes you smile. But it drops just as quickly. 

You head towards your door and go straight knocking on Jungkook’s bedroom. 

You don’t expect him to be awake at this point, but when you hear steps coming your way and the doorknob clicking, you stare at Jungkook wide-eyed when he welcomes you with his presence behind the door.

“Hey,” He greets, predictably surprised to see you. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah…” your eyes don’t mean to subtly roam his room. Then that’s when you catch it. The bags lying around his bedroom floor and the neatly piled boxes to the side. Your eyebrows meet each other. “You’re packing?” 

Jungkook nods. “I’m leaving tomorrow, I told you that, didn’t I?” 

“Y-you did, yeah.” You stammer, blinking at him. You suddenly feel like throwing up. “Well, I just came to thank you for…” you trail off, gesturing to your clothes.

Seemingly getting what you mean, Jungkook’s lips curl up into a coy smile. “I hope you don’t mind. I tried to wake you up, but you were complaining about your dress when you were sleeping…”

“Yeah… I’m glad you took it off.” You wince. “That sounds wrong. Anyway, the make-up, too. I have to ask, did I throw up on you?” 

Jungkook laughs, incredulous. “No, no, you didn’t. Are you seriously worried about that?” 

“I just feel bad.” You give him a tight-lipped smile. 

“It’s okay. You should sleep now, it’s late. Do you have a shift tomorrow– or later, actually.” 

“Yeah, I do. But it’s the evening shift. So. You?” 

“I have the morning until three in the afternoon.” 

Nodding, you ask, “Are you leaving at three then? I mean, to your new place?”

“Yeah. Will just pass by here to get some of my stuff.”

You try to look for something on his face. But Jungkook looks casual at best. Now you remember what Nayeon told you. Was she lying when she said you’re going to convince Jungkook not to move out? Because from the looks of it, Jungkook doesn’t seem like anything would budge him from leaving tomorrow. He seems so set on a mission, and you can’t lie and say that it doesn’t break your heart. 

You find yourself thinking about the events at the reception party. How he threw you a quick prom, told you you were beautiful… how he said he missed you. 

Was that all a lie? Just something he said to avoid some sort of dead air? 

Because if he truly misses you, then why would he leave? 

You find yourself getting annoyed. 

“I’ll be back to my room.” You say to get out of the situation. You notice Jungkook getting taken aback by the change of your tone, even more so when you turn on your heels quickly to take the two strides it takes you to your own bedroom. 

In there, you throw yourself on the mattress, the impact affecting you a little bit. You must still be drunk because you feel your vision getting blurry a bit but as you quickly shut and open your eyes, everything goes back to normal. 

You sigh. 

Well, maybe you’re actually meant to be alone and it’s true that you’re not meant for any romantic relationships. You’ll die alone and you’ll just have to deal with the heartbreaks you went through your whole life. 

A stray tear escapes your eye, and you quickly raise the back of your hand to wipe at it. You glare at the wall dividing your and Jungkook’s rooms, finding it annoying that you’re not really mad at him. It’d be so easy if you were mad at him… but you have no reason to.

But why is he so stubborn? Why isn’t he saying anything? Can he just… can it just be him who takes the leap of faith, so you won’t have to? You know that’s unfair, though. It’s juvenile. 

In a burst of courage, you take one pillow from your bed and stomp your way out of your bedroom, finding yourself in front of Jungkook’s room again and knocking. 

He opens it, rightfully surprised to see you again. “H-hey, __, I thought—”

“Can I sleep here?” 

You can see the way his face contorts into confusion. “What?” 

“Can I sleep in your room?” You reiterate, but you’re already forcing your way in. You throw your pillow on his own heap of dark ones, frowning when you see the bags on the floor. “Are you just going to pack forever? You’ve been packing since yesterday.”

Your clipped tone throws Jungkook off a little bit, but he doesn’t point that out, though, when he speaks. “No. I’m actually done now.” 

“Okay? Well, then, let’s sleep.” You say, staring at him. He looks stoned in his position from the edge of the bed, so utterly confused. 

“Are you… still drunk?” 

“What? No.”

“O… kay?” Jungkook looks extra cautious when he seats himself on the mattress by your feet. “Are you sure?” 

“About what?”

“I don’t know. About not being drunk and… sleeping here.” 

“Yeah,” you answer, pointing out the obvious. “Why are you acting like we haven’t had sleepovers before? You used to sleep in my room when there was a spider in your closet.” 

Jungkook makes a face. “It was a huge spider.” 

You roll your eyes, going into a lying position, making sure to leave some space for him on the side. “Jungkook.” 

“Okay, I’m going. So demanding.” 

He playfully clicks his tongue as he lays on the bed as well, sliding his body across the mattress. He doesn’t expect the way you take his arm to spread it on your side of the bed, and you don’t let him say another word when you lay your head on it, keeping your hands close to your chest as you snuggle beside him. 

You could feel there was a moment there that Jungkook stiffened for a bit, but he relaxes just as quickly, feeling him caress your head tentatively as if feeling you out before he goes for it completely. 

“This is what you’re gonna be missing out on when you move out.” you mumble.

You’re grateful when he only says: “Hm?”

“Nothing.” You open your eyes and because of the close proximity, your eyes are at the level of the side view of his chest, and you see the way his thin white shirt clings to his body, rising up and down with his breathing. “I saw your keys earlier. I’m glad you like the Claddagh.” 

Jungkook laughs. “The Claddagh, huh? I knew you knew what that keychain meant,” You frown when you realize you were supposed to pretend you didn’t know that. Oh, well, he figured you out right away, anyway. “I really like it, by the way. It was very thoughtful,” Jungkook says. You can’t see him in your position, but you just know he has a smile on his face. He sounds like it. 

“Thank you. I thought about gifting you a watch… but watches are expensive, so…” You decide to joke, and Jungkook laughs which makes you smile. 

“I would choose the Claddagh any day. I just… I really like it. I interpreted it as a deep sense of belonging and shared history, and I’ve known you for eight years, so that seems very fitting. I’m glad you chose to give me that.” 

It was also a reminder of your relationship. Your love for each other. The loyalty that lies in its foundation, and how you’ve managed to build that over the years. Jungkook’s ultimately your soulmate – that you’re sure of – even though that’s a bit of a cliche and you don’t exactly believe in it entirely. A bit of a conflict, really, since you’re a hopeless romantic. 

But you’ve long known that you and Jungkook are more than just friends. You trust and respect each other beyond words – and it’s more than what you could say about your previous romantic partners. Sure, there was that sense of admiration for one another with your ex-boyfriends, but Jungkook is different. He’s always been different. 

You’ve known that all along – but it’s only now that you decided to read between the lines. 

And you want to tell him that. So badly. But you choose to let the gentle tips of his fingers lull you to that comfortable annexe of warmth, easing you from overwhelming thoughts. 

Has Jungkook always felt like the embodiment of comfort for you? Has he always felt like everything good you can imagine having in your life?

Then, you feel him lean down to the top of your head. “You smell so nice. You aren’t my soulmate after all.” 

That makes you violently crane your neck up to look at him. “What?”

“There was this article that Tae sent to me. It was from Cosmo, I think. It says you’re not supposed to be able to smell your soulmate.” He says, looking so serious that you can’t figure if he’s bullshitting you.

You lean on your elbow so you can look down properly at him, saying, “That’s not even plausible. Since when was Cosmo reliable to you? That’s ridiculous. We literally have four hundred different types of olfactory receptors which help us perceive various smells – I mean, unless you’ve damaged them somehow, or there’s a disruption in your signal transduction, or you’re anosmic – which I know you’re not – then I don’t think that’s true.” 

Jungkook laughs and you can’t help but frown. 

“It made sense, okay? If you ignore the science stuff.”

“You’re a doctor.” You quickly counter.

He rolls his eyes. “I mean, for the record, I believe in the existence of extraterrestrial life, so that’s that.”

“Ugh,” you flop down on the bed again, falling back on Jungkook’s body. He scoots closer to hold you close against him, which you welcome casually. You don’t even know how you got this comfortable, but you’re glad either way. He feels so big and warm. “Are you going to show me that Youtube video of top ten UFO sightings around the world again?” 

“You don’t think that Nebraska one looked very real?” Jungkook says with disbelief.

“No,” you turn to Jungkook only to find him already looking at you. “They were college boys, Jungkook. They probably just turned nineteen or something. Have you seen their eyes in the video? It was pixelated as hell, but if I were that high—”

Jungkook suddenly snorts, effectively cutting you off. “Ohh, if you were that high?”

You jab at his chest which only makes him laugh louder. 

“I tried my first weed with you.” You pout.

Jungkook catches the stray hair that falls from behind your ear and hides it back there again as he says, “You coughed nonstop and had a sore-throat the next day. You have baby lungs.” 

You roll your eyes and go back to lying on his arm. “Whatever. All of that still doesn’t justify that we’re not soulmates.” 

“The concept of soulmates doesn’t even have a scientific explanation.” Jungkook chuckles. 

“No…? But there's psychological research about it; the attachment theory, look it up.” 

“There’s also cognitive dissonance.” Jungkook pitches in. 

“That’s so mean!” You gasp, but you know Jungkook’s only teasing when you see that he’s got that huge stupid grin on his face.

He apologizes in between his laughter, squeezing your waist a bit before he says, “Okay, okay. But what if you’re my soulmate, but I’m not yours?” 

“That’s not how soulmate-ism works. Isn’t it nice to think that there’s like a system to it? Like if you’re my soulmate, then that would automatically make me your soulmate. It doesn’t make sense otherwise.” Your eyebrows knit together as you explain.

“I guess you’re right…” Then you hear him letting out a loud sigh. “For what it's worth, I think I’d be really happy if I was your soulmate.”

You smile against his pec after he says the words. 

You like Jeon Jungkook. You like him so much it’s starting to feel unbearable.

There’s silence that hangs in the air for some time before you look up at Jungkook alarmingly. “Kook.” He doesn’t say anything. You lean on your elbow again to peer down at him, only to see that he’s now closed his eyes. “Jungkook.” 

Finally, he stirs. But his eyes are still closed. “Hm?”

“Don’t sleep yet.” 

“Uh-huh.” He gives your waist a brief squeeze again.

“I’m watching you.” 

He chuckles. “What is it?” 

“Let’s talk more.” 

“How are you still not sleepy?” 

“Because…” you drop your head down to his chest this time. “I want to know if you could ever —” you shrug, staring at his ceiling. “—cannibalize someone.”

“I like this. Conversation’s getting raunchy,” You hear him snorting through his breath. “Is this your pillowtalk?” 

“Yes.” 

“In that case, that’s an interesting question. I have never really thought about that.”  

“Really? Never?” 

“I’ve never been in any situation where I had to think about that, thank god.”

You laugh together. “Okay, but if you really had to, would you?” 

“I don’t know… I’m a huge germaphobe, you know that. But I guess humans inherently have indomitable spirits and that conditions us to do whatever it takes to ensure our survival under extreme conditions. I don’t think I’m beyond that.”   

You nod against his chest. Mindlessly, you start tracing random lines over his shirt, and you wait for Jungkook to pry your hand off or say something to stop you or ask you what you’re doing, but he doesn’t really say anything. 

“It’s fascinating, right? The way we can just alter our brains and mindsets when we’re put under certain conditions. It’s amazing and weird at the same time how we work psychologically.” 

“Exactly.” You feel Jungkook nodding. 

“This is– of course this is not an extreme condition where I have to cannibalize someone,” you chuckle, which earns the same thing from Jungkook. You continue, “but you know when you’re experiencing a heartbreak and you think it’s the end of the world but then you wake up one day and suddenly you’re fine? 

When Jungkook turns quiet, you know you’ve touched on a subject that feels personal. 

You sigh. “I broke up with Mingyu awhile ago.” 

“Oh.”

You hum. “Yeah… like a month ago?”

“Ah. I had a hunch.”

“But you didn’t ask,” you smile. “Well, anyway I just want you to know.” 

Silence.

Then, “Do you feel… do you feel sad about it?” 

“That’s what’s weird,” you say. “Because I don’t necessarily feel sad about the break-up, or the relationship. But it’s more like – the thought of breaking up with somebody again.” You chuckle, but there’s no humor to it. “I feel like you can only take so many break-ups in your life before you completely give up on love, you know? And it’s like… I don’t even get it… I mean, I’m decent, aren’t I? I can hold up a conversation, I make sense, I have a good job, and I don’t look bad – although, maybe that’s what’s wrong all along?” You swallow the lump in your throat. “Am I ugly?” 

“Hey,” Jungkook calls, and you feel him rising from his lying position just as you feel tears slowly streaming down your face. 

You scold yourself for it – because what the hell even is this about? Just earlier you were talking about cannibalism and now you’re tearing up. Your emotions are all over the place, and it doesn’t help that Jungkook’s quick to dote on you, guiding your back as you both sit on the bed instead.

You inhale a sharp breath. “Look at me, I’m a mess,” you look at him through blurry eyes, hoping to look apologetic at the very least for barging in his room at fuckass o’clock and disturbing his packing and not noticing that he’s been in love with you for the past eight years. God, you want to say sorry for a lot of things. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m crying, it’s not that deep.” 

“If it’s bothering you then it’s a big deal. And I’m looking right at you,” Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulders as he looks you in the eyes. “I’m looking at you and you’re beautiful, you’re intelligent, and you’re the funniest person on Earth I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing. I’m so glad I met you.” 

“Well… do you still feel that way when I only ever seem to come to you when I wanna vent or cry?” You ask, attempting to joke, but your voice breaks at the end.

It cracks a smile on Jungkook’s face though. “That’s not true at all. You also come to annoy me.” 

Your laughter turns into a sob and that’s when Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you close to his side, letting your head fall to his bicep and resting his chin on top of yours. It’s a barely-there gesture, but you’re pretty sure you feel him kiss the crown of your head. 

“I know… I know we still have a lot to talk about, __. That we’re glossing over the important things. But I want to say sorry. I never said sorry about what happened back at the resort. For Mingyu. For doing what we did. I never said sorry about bombarding you with all those things and for taking so long to talk to you just because I was scared. But right now, I’m saying sorry. I have been completely unfair to you all this time.” 

You quickly get out of his hold to look up at him. “No, you—” 

“Just…” Jungkook cuts you off. “Just let me, okay? I know you’re gonna say none if it was my fault but you’re right about what you said. You’re right about doubting my feelings for you.” 

“Jungkook…”

He nods. “I was in denial for the most part about my feelings for you. Ever since that thing happened with Jiyeon in college, I found it hard to trust somebody again. I slept around in my last year of college because it made me feel good about myself, made me think I was desirable and that someone cheating on me doesn’t mean shit when I had all those women who willingly slept with me. I was like that during my first year in med school, too. Couldn't really get serious with somebody because – because what if they do the same thing again?” Jungkook smiles bitterly. “And then… I met you. It started out as a crush and I was so sure it wasn’t going to be more than that, but then, we were in almost the same classes and we became friends,” Jungkook looks at you fondly and you almost melt in his arms. “And then I found myself liking you, and then I fell hard – really fucking hard,” he chuckles to himself. “It was during spring break of second year when I realized I was fucked and that I was in love with my best friend.” 

“S-spring break?” You whisper, not sure what he meant. 

“You don’t remember it?” Jungkook asks. He looks over your face and suddenly he’s caressing your cheek with his fingers. He swipes his thumb over it, wiping a stray tear away. He smiles before he says, “I caught the flu that time. I called you, but you were over at your parents. Then the next day I woke up and you were at my place telling me to take care of my health because how can I study medicine when my immune system is shit.”

“Oh, that…” you trail off. Suddenly, the fragments of that time become clear to you. The flu wasn’t that bad, only took him three days to fully recover.

“Yeah. But then that was also the time when you told me Eunwoo asked you to be his girlfriend and that you said yes.” 

You inhale a shaky breath.

“I– I tried to forget about my feelings, because I didn’t want to harbor all those feelings for you when you already had a boyfriend. I went to all those dates in the hopes that I could feel something from someone. I tried to date Sora. It was good. It was a good partnership. But then… Eunwoo proposed, and I don’t know – I guess I deluded myself so bad that I have fully moved on from you since then – but then I was faced with the reality that you were going to spend your life with somebody else and I didn’t know how to deal with it. I was so bad at handling my emotions. So stupid. Sora broke up with me because she figured I love you.” 

You stare at him with your mouth agape. You would've never guessed why they broke up. You always thought they were so perfect for each other… 

“And yeah, the break-up with Eunwoo happened and it took you two years to heal. I didn’t want to make a move because I simply didn’t want to be that kind of guy who takes advantage of a woman’s vulnerability after a break-up, you know? And we moved in together two years ago and…” You wait as he trails off. “I guess I just got comfortable with our set-up.” 

“How do you mean?”

“It was like, everything I imagined us to be. Living together, sharing everything together. I thought no one could take that away from me, even if I didn’t ask you out. I’m not telling you to believe it, but I wasn’t with a lot of women for the past two years… yeah, sure, I dated them very briefly, but it was out of genuine attempt to find somebody for myself because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship by confessing. Being your best friend was and still is more important to me than being your boyfriend. I couldn’t care less how I can have you; I want you in any way – and if that meant being your platonic friend the rest of our time, then I was that. I am that. Even now.”

You can’t find your words. You’ve imagined your talk countless times in your head, but they all fell short to give you a taste of what the real thing would be like. 

“So… I’m sorry. I’m sorry for keeping my feelings for nearly eight years. I’m sorry I kept something important to you about Mingyu. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. Just… I apologize. I feel like I broke your trust.” 

It’s quiet for a while before you break the silence.

“Jungkook,” You call him. He meets your gaze. It’s soft and it’s sweet and you realize he’s always looked at you like that. How could you have not noticed? “You’re very important to me.” 

“I’m glad.” He smiles. A small one that makes him look all boyish. The urge to keep him in your pocket even though he’s much bigger than you becomes huge.

“And I want you in any way, too.” You say, staring intently at him. 

You watch as Jungkook stares back at you. There’s an agonizing stretch of seconds when you see his eyes darting down from your eyes to your lips, and you don’t mean to bite the bottom one, suddenly feeling the thick tension rising in the air.

“Can I hug you?” You swallow the lump in your throat. 

“I would really love that.” 

You don’t know how it happens, but the last thing you see is Jungkook’s wall clock pointing to 3:15 am before you let your eyes rest.

[ READ BELOW ]

this chapter is not over yet! tumblr has a 1k paragraph/block limit in a single post and so i can't put the whole thing in this. please look thru the reblogs to read the last scene of the chapter and the EPILOGUE or click on this [ link ]

[colorisbyshe]

I just came across a tweet saying that Aaron Bushnell--the man who burned himself to death while yelling Free Palestine until he couldn't anymore--will be "in the history books" and that phrase has been coming up a lot. And it chafes me every time I read it, every time I hear it.

Cause, a. no, a lot of this won't be in the American history books. American atrocities, especially those overseas but even those against American people (especially American people of color), don't go in the literal history books. Or the figurative ones. Most American atrocities are wiped from the collective memory... sometimes as soon as they happen. They go unreported (like the first person to self immolate to protest this genocide), they go erased, they go whitewashed, they go falsely recontextualized, and they get twisted into pro-America sentiment--we were right for those atrocities, we were wrong for them but we learned, we didn't learn from it but we felt bad about it and should be comforted for that soreness.

And b. is harder to verbalize but I'm gonna try. It feels... performative in the literal sense. Like we only value what is happening today out of deference for how people in the future will perceive it. We aren't doing anything to change anything NOW, to care about other people NOW, but so that one day... we'll be remembered a caring. Like this man killed himself as gesture, as a move for his legacy.

And I see this phrase--"this will be remembered in the history books"--whipped out in extremely horrific contexts. A child's dead body hanging off a wall, "oh, this will be in the history books." What does that even mean? Was her death worth the historical context? Was it necessary to embellish the horror of it all?

Would the people reading these hypothetical history books not get the wrongness of the genocide without the death of a little girl that you're using as... window dressing?

It just seems so weirdly self satisfied. Like you're eager to note you just witnessed a real moment that people will remember decades from now. When... a lot of people won't which is what is so tragic. A lot of people don't even know it's happening right now.

Because, again, it's not being reported. And when it is being reported it's not being reported honestly.

I'm not saying this well but it just feels like such a gross reaction to things we're seeing in real time.

Why does it have to matter later to matter now? Why is the hypothetical reaction of a history book reader the thing you think about?

A lot of people won't live to read those "history books" because people, right now, aren't doing anything to help them.