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livingdreams97 · 2 years

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Daenerys Targaryen -- "The rightful heir." (part 2)

Daenerys Targaryen x Male reader/oc

Summary: Tiryon Lannister asks his queen for a favor: to help his missing nephew in a questionable way and just as his sister; Cercei proclaims the iron throne. The favor is to save his nephew and create a union between the heir of the House Baratheon and the mother of dragons.

Words: 5.078

Masterlist

NOTE: If you see any spelling mistake im sorry, english is not my first lenguage and i try to do it the best possible. Do you guys think that the parts are too long? Or they have a good lenght?

Daenerys POV

Tyrion had left Dragonstone a couple of hours ago, along with four Unsullied and a ship. Outside was a storm like the one that two decades ago existed on the day of my birth, or so those present say.

I just wait for the return of my hand, safe and sound looking out the window of the map room. I don't know what to expect from Tyron's nephew, I don't want to seem paranoid or anything like that; but I don't know him and I don't know what he can be capable of.

In addition to that, I doubt that after spending his entire life with the now queen Cercei Lannister, the evil and cunning of his mother has not rubbed off on him. So he is a person that I have to take care of and that I have to observe to be sure that i´m not in danger.

I hear the door to the map room being opened, so I immediately turn around and watch my hand creep in. I look at the features of his face, realizing that they are contracted and the concern can be clearly seen on his face.

Daenerys: Has something happened? - I ask curiously, thinking that perhaps he is worried about not finding his nephew and about his condition.

Tyron: No my lady, everything has gone as planned.- He answers me with a small grimace.

Daenerys: Then why do you have that face? - I ask, taking a couple of steps towards where he is.

Tyron: It's been a long time since the last time I saw him.- he answers me and I look at him confused. -It has changed and I couldn't tell if it was for the better or for the worse.- He comments and all my alarms go off.

Daenerys: I must talk to him.- I order and walk towards the door.

Tyron: No, please.- He says, grabbing my arm gently. -He needs a while to process what happened and feel safe here.- he explains and I shake my head.

If his own uncle says that he has changed and that he does not know if it is for the better or for the worse; it is an alarm signal. A sign so that my presence is necessary and I can see with my own eyes what I may face in the near future.

Daenerys: He will have all the time to process what he needs after I talk to him.- I say bluntly. -I have trusted you to bring him to my house, now as your queen I have the right to see your nephew and make sure he doesn't suppose any danger to me.- I finish saying and look at Gray-Worm to follow me. -Don't let him out until i come back.- I say to the guards at the entrance over my hand.

I walk through the castle with Gray-Worm at my side, feeling my heart pounding with intrigue and the insecurity of having a Baratheon in my castle.

And not just any Baratheon. The legitimate son and heir of the usurper of my family and the ones in the throne.

I won't rest easy until I see him and make sure he's not a threat to my reign and personal life. I stand in front of the door of the chambers that have been prepared for him, taking deep breaths and gently knocking on the door.

When I don't hear an answer, I glance at Gray-Worm and he cautiously starts to open the door. As soon as the door opens, I can appreciate the dim light in the room thanks to the candlelight and look at the seemingly empty place.

I take an unsteady step into the room, fearing a surprise attack. But that fear turns into surprise, when I look to the right side where the bathtub is and I find myself with a semi-naked body.

My eyes scan the exposed skin, revealing multiple bruises and cuts with dried blood all around. I see the slight relief of the ribs on the sides of his body, looking at his slightly swollen stomach; possibly due to air and the pale color of his skin in the areas free of bruises; although they barely exist.

I glance up his neck, meeting a sharp jawline and the features of a thin face. The cheeks of his face are somewhat deflated, revealing the bone of his cheekbones and several bruises and small cuts on his face.

I see the dark bags under his eyes, probably due to a possible lack of sleep and finally I meet his eyes. I open my eyes even more surprised, when I find myself with a green eye and a brown one.

I had never witnessed anything like it, I had never before seen a person with an eye of each color and I would not have imagined that it could be so hypnotic. But I come out of my thoughts, when I see something familiar being reflected in his eyes and I can tell what it is: fear.

Tyrion may be right and many years have passed since he last saw his nephew. But what I have right now in front of my eyes is not a prince, it is not an aggressive deer or lion and heir to the throne.

What I have in front of me right now is a scared, beaten person who looks more like a man in the street than a prince. Something stirs inside me at the thousands of possibilities and for everything he has had to suffer to see himself like this.

Daenerys: You must be Y/n Baratheon, Tyrion's nephew.- I say with a calm voice; trying not to let the fear grow in his eyes.

Y/n: Yes.- He answers barely without a voice, hoarsely and with just an imperceptible tremor in his voice.

Daenerys: It's a pleasure to have you here.- I assure him with a small smile, seeing how his eyes pass between Gray-Worm and me with some fear. -Wait outside, I'll call you if anything.- I tell my personal security in Valyrio.

I watch as Gray-Worm looks at me uncertainly, then nods and leaves the room closing the door behind him. I glance back at the guy in front of me, noticing how he's taken a step back and is staring at the hot tub next to him.

Daenerys: You can take a bath if you want.- I remember looking between him and the bathtub.

Y/n: I don't think it's appropriate to do it in front of a lady.- he whispers hoarsely without looking at me.

Daenerys: You won't be the first man I've seen naked, I've been married and the male anatomy is not unknown to me.- I clarify, downplaying it and walking towards the table with the wine.

Y/n: Even so, your majesty, I don't think it's appropriate.- He comments still in a hoarse voice and in a low way.

Daenerys: Then I won't look.- I assure him, pouring me a glass of wine. -Do you want wine?- I ask him, turning to see him completely still where I found him when I entered the room.

Y/n: No thanks, I don't drink.- He slightly shakes his head and I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

Daenerys: You don't drink wine? - I ask curious and he just denies.

Y/n: I've seen what wine can do to people, not all people are the same and not all react the same.- He begins to explain to me in a low way. -But I've seen the worst that can come out of a person and the damage it can do.- he tells me and I nod somewhat in agreement.

Daenerys: So water? - I ask and I notice how he plays with his hands insecurely.

Y/n: I... this... there´s not... there's no water left.- he says in an insecure manner, I raise my eyebrow in surprise and look at the water pitcher, finding it empty. -I was... I was thirsty.- He comments and sighs taking the jar.

I walk with the jar a few steps, watching as he backs away quickly in fear and I widen my eyes in surprise. I stop walking immediately, trying not to scare him anymore and unable to help but feel my heart sink at his reaction.

Daenerys: Hey no, I'm not going to do anything to you.- I deny sympathetically. -I'm just going to ask them to bring you more water.- I whisper in a soft voice, trying to reassure him and not feel afraid.

Y/n: No need, I don't want to bother anyone.- He denies immediately without wanting to look at me.

Daenerys: Of course yes, you are clearly thirsty and the jar is empty.- I assure him, since I have seen his lips completely dry at first and that is a clear example of the lack of hydration in his body. -Besides that, it won't be any inconvenience.- I clarify with a slight smile.

Y/n: No.. no need, I can wait until tomorrow.- He assures me and I shake my head.

Daenerys: It's okay, just let me ask for more water and they'll bring it to you right away.- I assure him and walk back to the door.

I open the door a few inches, seeing Gray-Worm handing the mug to another of the Unsullied. I ask them to fill the pitcher with water and bring it back immediately. I close the door and turn around to find Y/n in the same corner.

Daenerys: Now you can get in the bathtub.- I indicate pointing to the still hot water.

Y/n: I'm not sure.- He denies looking at the bathtub and then at me.

Daenerys: I promise not to look.- I tell him with confidence. -But I have to talk to you and I won't leave until I do.- I assure him seriously.

POV You

I look with fear and insecurity at the queen my uncle told me about. I don't know what kind of queen she is, I don't know if she will be similar to my mother or completely opposite to her. My uncle has assured me that she is a good woman, that she cares for her people and that I will be safe with her.

But that is my uncle's opinion and not mine. Many people said the same about my mother, especially when it came to her children and how a lioness always defends her cubs.

But that was never like that with me, only during my first year of life and I don't even remember what maternal love is. So I can't just listen to my uncle and ignore any kind of threat.

After all, if my own mother has been able to torture me for years and lock me in the dungeon without regard. Who assures me that the woman in front of me will not do it too; or worst.

I swallow hard at her intimidating gaze, knowing I have no other choice, and nod my head slightly.

She seems pleased with my answer, as she gives me a slight smile and walks back to the table with the drinks.

I stare at the water in the tub, feeling the dirt clinging to my body and the need to remove the grimy clothes from my body. With a discreet glance at the woman in the room, I make sure she's not looking and quickly remove my remaining clothing.

I put one foot in the hot water first, making sure it's not too hot, and then I put the other foot in. I start to crouch down and with every inch that my body sinks, the coldness of my body disappears by the moment.

I rub my arms and torso, immediately feeling the dirt and dried blood dissolve in the water.

I close my eyes, resting my back against the wall of the bathtub and enjoying the moment in complete silence. Although I remain somewhat alert, since I do not forget the presence of the white-haired woman and my uncle's queen in the room.

I jump startled when there is a knock on the door and I look alertly at the big wooden door. What if my mother found out about the leak? What if she is the one who comes looking for me? What if my punishment is now worse for escaping? What has...

Daenerys: Calm down.- I hear her sweet voice, making me get out of my panic and look at her. -Surely it's the water.- she tries to reassure me.

Y/n: And if it isn't? - I ask with a certain tremor in my voice without being able to avoid it.

Daenerys: I assure you that you are safe here.- She tells me with a soft look and walks towards the door with all the calm in the world.

I observe every step she takes, every gesture she makes no matter how small; looking for an iota of fear or some other feeling that is not calm in her face, to make sure and know how to act if something bad can happen.

Daenerys: Thank you very much.- She thanks after opening the door and receiving something in her hand.

As she closes the door again, I realize she has the pitcher of water from earlier in her hand and let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding.

She walks calmly to the table, where she fills a glass with water and begins her walk with glass in hand towards me. I cover myself as best I can, when I realize that she will be close to me and if I don't cover myself at all she will see me completely naked.

Daenerys: Here.- She offers me the glass with a smile.

Y/n: Thank you.- I whisper quietly, since my throat still hurts a little and I extend a hand to receive the cup.

I look at the transparent liquid in the glass, somewhat insecure and distrustful. I have learned little from my mother, but what I have learned is that any time and object is good to eliminate your enemies.

Daenerys: It's just water.- She assures me kneeling next to the bathtub. -You are the only living nephew of my hand, the few times he has spoken of you; He has always done it in a positive way and I respect your uncle.- she tells me looking me straight in the eye. -I would never try to do anything to you, without first knowing how your relationship with your mother is, why they were in the dungeon, a few more things and making sure that you are not a threat to me.- she tells me and I nod a little shy at her closeness.

I can't lie and say that her beauty is not obvious. Besides that it has a wild and natural point that makes it look even more beautiful. She is a woman of a beauty beyond the everyday, her aura imposes power, confidence, security and warmth at the same time.

But as beautiful as she is, her beauty does not overshadow that of my beloved Margaery and the softness with which she looked at me.

In addition to the fact that my mother always said that the more beautiful women; more dangerous and lethal they were. She always defended a saying: "Men are clumsy, narcissistic and direct when it comes to their murders or intentions; while a woman plans, waits and acts at the perfect moment thanks to her cunning."

And considering my mother and all the wicked and twisted things she's done; It is a saying that I have very present in my life. You could even say that I carry it engraved in the scars on my skin.

Y/n: None.- I answer your first question; before taking a big sip of water.

Daenerys: Excuse me? - question confused.

Y/n: My relationship with my mother.- I clarify, seeing the doubt on her face. -I haven't had any relationship with my mother since I was a year old, and if I have it, it's always negative for me.- I tell her looking towards the glass.

Daenerys: And why would that be? - She asks curiously and through my peripheral vision I can see her fingers playing on the edge of the bathtub.

Y/n: Because I am the only blood son of my father, because I am not blonde with blue eyes, because I am not as bad as Joffrey, because I am not as manipulable as Tommen and because I am too kind according to her.- I give several answers, all real and with compelling reasons for my mother.

Daenerys: Being kind is not a bad thing.- She assures me and I bite my lip insecurely.

My mother has always told me; rather shouted that I am too soft and kind followed by a slap. She always thought that I couldn't sit on the throne because I was soft and everyone would take advantage of me.

Y/n: That's not what my mother thinks and it's not what my grandfather thought either.- I tell her finishing my water.

Daenerys: Well, I assure you it's not a bad thing.- she tells me and I feel the warm touch of her hand on my bare shoulder; causing me to jump in surprise. -And why were you in the dungeon?- she asks with clear curiosity in her tone of voice.

Y/n: Because I am the last living son of his marriage to my father, the heir to the throne and the only one who can stand in her way to the throne.- I answer honestly. -To be honest, I didn't expect to be alive after Tommen's death and even less after being imprisoned.- I admit swallowing hard with pain, knowing that for my mother I'm just a hindrance and she wouldn't have minded killing me if it meant getting to the throne without any problem in the end.

Daenerys: I don't think your mother was capable of doing that.- She assures me and I look at her as if she had two heads. -A mother gives everything for and for her children, and I doubt that your mother would send you to kill for the throne.- she tries to encourage me but she doesn't know her.

Y/n: Never underestimate my mother.- I tell her looking straight into her eyes with seriousness. -My mother is ambitious and no one or nothing has ever stopped her from getting what she wanted. And if I am a obstacle on her way to the throne; like you, from her point of view, it doesn't mean anything if I'm her son or enemy, I'm a problem and problems are rooted out.- I assure her with total sincerity.

Daenerys: But it's your mother.- She tries to dissuade me from my thoughts.

Y/n: That's why I know what he's capable of.- I say with confidence. -In addition to the fact that she has not been my mother in my last 22 years; nor I his son from his point of view.- I assure her letting out a small sigh.

Daenerys: Do you want more water? - She asks me after a few seconds in silence, staring at me.

Y/n: Yes, please.- I respond, returning the glass with the only free hand I have.

She gives me a light squeeze on the shoulder, which makes me wince, and with good reason. Since I have a large bruise in the area and cut from the shoulder to the end of the scapula.

Daenerys: Sorry.- She apologizes guiltily and walks back to the table.

I take advantage of this moment and completely submerge myself in the water. I hold my breath for a few moments, trying to forget everything that has happened in the last month and all the people I have lost in the last few years.

I surface when I hear something against the ground and a pair of hands in my armpits. I open my eyes, wiping away the excess water with my hands and turning to see the queen's worried face.

Daenerys: Are you okay? What happened? - Ask between worried and stressed. -I turned around to fill your cup and then you wouldn't come out of the water.- s he explains to me and still doesn't remove the worried expression from her face.

Y/n: Yes, I'm fine.- I answer feeling her warm hands still on my body. -I didn't mean to scare your Majesty, it's something I've done since I was little to relax and escape my thoughts for a few seconds.- I explain seeing how worried she is.

Daenerys: Well, you scared me to death.- she says with a small smile. -If you die in my presence, I won't be able to prevent your uncle from believing and thinking that I was the one who murdered you.- she comments with a tone of amusement and I can't help but let out a small hoarse laugh.

Y/n: I'm really sorry, Your Majesty, I didn't mean to scare you, much less give you a hard time.- I assure her with some sadness. -Especially after taking me in and helping me escape from my mother.- I say with a grimace.

Daenerys: It's okay, but I'll have to serve you another glass of water.- She points with one of her hands to the glass on the ground and the water scattered in the water.

Y/n: I can do it, Your Majesty, I just have to go out and put on some clothes.- I tell her, trying to get up, but she puts her hands on my shoulders again and pulls me so I don't get up.

Daenerys: Your back is still a bit dirty.- She comments and I try to look, but clearly I can't. -I'll clean your back.- she assures me with a soft voice and I open my eyes wide.

Y/n: It's not necessary, Your Majesty.- I deny immediately and try to get back up, but she stops me again.

Daenerys: Nothing's going to happen to me for cleaning your back.- she comments with a small laugh, taking the damp cloth from the edge and putting it in the water. -Now go ahead a little and don't move.- she asks me and I immediately do it.

I immediately feel the rag on my back, moving up and down gently and without applying much pressure. Probably because of my blows and injuries inflicted by my mother's guards during my stay in the dungeon.

Y/n: What else do you want to know? - I ask in a whisper to avoid silence.

Daenerys: In case I manage to reach the throne, would you oppose my coronation and would you acclaim the throne as king? - she ask and I have plenty of time to answer.

Y/n: No.- I answer emphatically.

Daenerys: Why not? - asks with curiosity in her voice.

Y/n: I don't think I'm the king that the people and the seven kingdoms deserve.- I answer honestly.

Daenerys: Your uncle believes that an alliance between the two of us would be the most appropriate, especially to help me reach the throne and to appease the people.- she tells me and I remain silent for a moment.

Y/n: What type of alliance? - I ask with some fear, since I only know two types of alliance; that one of marriage and that of kneeling.

Daenerys: He believes that the best option is to arrange a marriage between us.- she answers me with some evident insecurity in her voice. -He thinks it's the best, since for the people here I am a foreign queen and your presence by my side could take me directly to the throne and the acceptance of the people.- she explains herself and somehow I see it, but I'm not sure marry and less after what I promised Margaery.

Y/n: I can't.- I deny in a whisper. -I made a promise and I can't break it.- I explain briefly with a broken voice, remembering that day and Margaery's face when I promised to only handcuff myself to her.

Daenerys: I understand.- I listen as she says from my back. -But can I know what that promise is?- she asks and I swallow heavily, thinking about whether to tell him or not.

I think for a moment, feeling how she continues to wipe my back and I decide that it is the least she deserves after her help.

Y/n: I promised Margaery a while ago, that I would proclaim the throne and marry her and only her. I promised her that I would be faithful to her and that she would only handcuff me to someone if that someone was her.- I explain and I can hear her taking a deep breath.

Daenerys: That's very nice.- she assures me. -I understand why you don't want to do it, at the end of the day you will return to her and you will want to marry the woman you love.- she comments and now who takes a deep breath is me.

Y/n: I will never marry her.- I answer with sincerity and pain because of the reality that she is no longer by my side.

Daenerys: But did you promise her? - asks with evident confusion in her tone of voice.

Y/n: I promised her when she was alive, now she's gone and I'll keep my promise.- I answer and being like the rag stops moving on my back.

Daenerys: I was married.- she admits and I turn surprised to see her. -But he was injured in a fight and I couldn't do anything to save him.- she tells me and I can see the pain reflected in her purple and blue eyes.

Y/n: I'm sorry.- I say feeling guilty for bringing up the subject.

Daenerys: It's okay.- she downplays it by leaving the rag aside. -These are things that happen, at first it hurts a lot. But day by day the pain becomes lighter and you begin to overcome it.- she assures me with a very slight smile.

Y/n: And how do you overcome that? - I ask really interested, not wanting to continue feeling the immense pain and emptiness in my chest.

Daenerys: With time.- she answers me simply. -Time heals everything and one day you will remember Margaery with a smile on her face. But you can not refuse to love again, much less with your age and close possibilities of a new love. - she comments wisely.

Y/n: You say it from experience? - I ask curious and more relaxed in her presence.

Daenerys: Yes.- She answers me with a small friendly smile. -I loved my husband, although the beginning of our relationship was not the best or the most desired on my part. I loved him and I suffered a lot when he died, but I met another man and although it was not something entirely serious; It has helped me move forward and feel the affection and contact of another person again.- She tells me and I can only look at her with envy, wanting to feel like this and not like I am doing now.

Y/n: I'm sorry I can't marry your majesty, but it's my soon and my promises mean everything to me.- I apologize, knowing that this would benefit her a lot and avoid many deaths.

Daenerys: It's okay, I understand and you don't have to feel bad about it.- She assures me with a wider smile. -But I have one last question.- she comments and I look at her curiously.

Y/n: And which one would it be? - I ask, turning to face her.

Daenerys: I wanted to know if you would support me in my accession to the throne or if you would defend your mother? - she asks me with a serious face.

I stare at her for a few moments, detailing every detail of her face and figure. From her platinum hair, to her deep and beautiful purple and blue eyes. Right down to the fine, straight shape of her nose, the shape of her lips, and the almost imperceptible scar on the upper left side of her forehead.

The truth is that she is an impressive woman and without even trying she is majestic. But she deserves more than an arranged marriage with someone as empty, broken and little as me.

My answer on the other hand was easy and much more after having talked with her.

Y/n: You have done much more for me in one night than my mother has done for me in 23 years, Your Majesty.- I comment with confidence. -If what my uncle has told me about you is true, the seven kingdoms cannot have a better queen than you and you have my word that I will be by your side the rest of the way.- I answer honestly, seeing as with each word the smile on her face increases and her eyes take on a different shine.

Daenerys: I'm glad to hear that.- She nods, to get up and smooth her dress. -Now I'll go so you can get out of the bathtub and you can finally rest.- she says walking towards the door.

Y/n: Wait your majesty.- I say turning around again to face her. -Thank you very much for the help and for getting me out of the dungeon.- I thank her with all the sincerity and gratitude possible.

Daenerys: It was nothing.- she denies, dismissing it as unimportant. -I hope you feel comfortable here, that you can heal both emotionally and physically and don't hesitate to ask me for anything.- she says and I nod with some sadness. -And you can call me Daenerys, you don't have to be so formal and treat me with majesty.- she smiles at me and I smile back; before she leaves the room.

I sigh, seeing the wrinkles on my fingers and deciding it's time to get out of the water. I dress in a pair of pants that had been spread out on the white linen bed and lay down on the bed after picking up the glass from the floor.

Today has been a long and busy day. I just hope tomorrow is a calmer day and things are better from now on. With one last weary breath, I let the comfort and quality of the mattress and furs envelop me in a much needed deep sleep.

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whiskersz · 2 months

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hi! I was curious if you could do a romantic hazbin hotel match up? <3

I go by she/they. im pansexual, im not too picky. I'm originally from Guatemala but was adopted to America! I have dark brown eyes with gold rimmed glasses with peircings; nose stud and septum. Im also a bit on the bigger side like mid size, im super insecure about it due to family problems making it worse. im getting bette with it though! I'm a Pisces and an infp. When first meeting me I'm normally shy and keep to myself and I've been told I look mean since of my resting face but trust I'm the silliest person you have ever met. when getting close; I love to joke around and I tend to be rude and "out of pocket " with my humor. (think of like smiling friends or oneyplays for reference) I love helping others if it be medically or just listening. speaking of medical; I'm almost done with schooling to get my EMT certification! I've always wanted to help someone every since I was a child. since I chose this field I am a real stickler for anatomy and physiology, with that being said I like to point out mistakes in movies which can get super annoying but it's something I love to do. another thing I love is the elder scrolls series! I love the real life inspo it's taken for the game universe, plus I love the medival vibe it has. I also love history such as artifacts from the past, historical texts, and medical practices back then. I'm a huge horror fan as well; scream, thanksgiving, SAW, Halloween, the omen. I love the classics! I also love crime cases too. I also love music,my favorites being malice mizer, gulu gulu, nirvana , ice nine kills, korn,slaughter to prevail and powerwolf! I like gothic type clothing but I normally dress in a baggy shirt and jeans so I feel out of place lol. I'm not the super touchy type (depends on the mood) because it gives me the ick. I'm more of acts of service and quality time type of lover.

I hope this is enough information! I love your writing < 3

Hi!! Thank you for appreciating my writing <3 You’ve got a lot of interests, you seem like a very interesting person!

With that said, I match you with a character that I didn’t think anyone would get matched with...

Lute!

I’m going to start from the bottom here and say that Lute is not very touchy either, so she appreciates having a partner who has similar tastes when it comes to love languages. Her primary language is quality time, if you’re spending time with Lute it means she considers you worthy and thinks your relationship is worth devoting effort on.

Her favorite way of spending time together is doing her own thing while you do yours and listening to music in the meantime. Maybe you’ll be studying and she’ll be stretching, or you’ll be researching historical facts while she’s preening her wings.

Speaking of preening, she will only trust you and herself to do it. She’s pretty shy when asking too, pretending not to care but you can clearly see her looking anywhere but in your eyes. She loves the feeling of your hands on her wings, and being taken care of for once.

Going back to your interests and what you two do together, she’s also not opposed to watching your favorite horror movies! I get the feeling that she’d be into those kind of things herself, and would also find crime cases interesting to follow. I can imagine you two making dinner or a simple snack and sitting on the cough together, watching a documentary on the latest crime case while chewing on your food as quietly as possible to hear every word.

Lute is not the type to get intimidated easily, especially if she doesn’t know someone personally, so your quieter and ‘mean-looking’ exterior never really bothered her in the first place. When you two get closer and you eventually reveal the sillier side of your personality, she’s going to reveal hers as well. She loves out of pocket humor and mean jokes, so much so that you joke around with each other this way so often that others will question whether you’re actually lovers or...don’t like each other that much after all.

She also really admires the dedication you put into studying for your certification and the field you’ve decided to deal with. She loves dedicated and diligent people. It’s also almost funny to her how she’s an Exorcist and you’ll be working in the medical field.

Lute finds you very attractive, that is a given with her being your loyal girlfriend. She really wants you to feel confident in how you look and for you to dress how you want without feeling out of place, so she’s going to remind you that she finds you good looking very often, in her own way of course. She might be a little on the meaner side when it comes to these things, but she means well; she’ll straight up tell you to wear something more interesting if she knows you were planning to dress in a more gothic style but settled on the usual baggy clothes. She’ll then remind you that you’re good looking for her and it shouldn’t really matter what your family or others think.

Overall, Lute is a very supportive – still, in her own way - and devoted partner. If you’ve got to the point of being in a relationship with her, nothing can really separate you two from that point on.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel matchup #hazbin hotel matchups #matchup #matchups #hazbin matchup #lute #lute hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lute

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1centillion · 1 year

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Two things u thought were related might not be (i.e. body insecurity and body envy).

Relation between customer and farmers market seller. Is it awk bc you feel compelled to talk (by your own code you know you should be). alas the freedom of a grocery store and the ability to stare into your cart as long as you need and put things back. Back when people knew their grocers, was it less transactional with none of the awk? You saw them every week and a relationship must eventually get born. Since theres more routine, each trip probably has less variation (comp to your present day grocery trips where i buy fuck all) and maybe your grocer grows to inform you and your kitchen of what to make and how to make dinner

Walking around downtown, passing me is a well put together woman. Great hair, dream body excellent taste. She's really executing my ideal personal style but at a bettter rate. I am jealous of her. I want to look like her? I want to be her? Why? Your first assumption is that shes rich and pretty. A) remember that looks can be deceiving, you dont know anything about her, even if she was rich and pretty she could have a personality that you wouldnt trade for. But even if she did 2) why do you want to be her? what does she have that you want? you wish you had her clothing? you can. you know you can you know how to shop. find the pieces or sse that you liked and wear them together. You think youre missing out because you dont get to have the rest of her wardrobe. You think there must be pieces that youll like even better. Babe remember that the life unlived doesnt need to be examined. you want to be skinny like her? Figure that one out thats lame and not qualified to spark intense jealousy. Truly, this envy just means you think she looks great and youre inspired by her style. [Just realized idk if i bought those 3 silver rings bc i like how they look on my hand or bc i was trying to replicate someone else's beauty on my body (like, ive seen photos of ringed fingers that i like but idk if my hands and my ideal style vibe with that)] you want to live her life? Bc you think it must be more fun or glamourous or something? See my response re:the clothing its the same thing. If you want to work less or take a vacation, do it. Find a new job and you dont even want to go to fiji so dont be sweaty bc she does and you dont.

Seeing a couple in a movie get together and the story of their romance is epic. Jealousy? Yearning? Not fuel in me right now to dissect this. Is this something you want for yourself? Why?

Seeing a well dressed couple together in the street. Flash of jealousy but theres no fuel to really keep it going. Boredom. Rather than feel like you are missing out on the option to be loved and envied, be willing to appreciate the beauty they are the world. You see human forms and think that you could be in one of their places. But their love is not a beauty that you have as a theoretical possibility to wear, their love is like jun's cats living in the kitchen or a forrest on a mountain with a sunset. Coo and admire it, let your day be brightened by them.

Going to a bar alone. Apprehensive because you assume people will think youre weird. You dont have to go to a bar and put on a production of yourself so that someone thinks youre smart and comes to talk to you. Since overcoming my desire to date, this instinct has been less prevalent for me so im not going to spend much time on this. A fun way to be at a bar alone would be to look at tumblr and people watch. If its quiet, listen to music or listen to the bars music! Drop the desire to meet new people

Mushroom seller at the larchmont farmers market. smart to not approach. You didnt want mushrooms at all. You wanted to go so that hed approach you and chit chat. And if you did, most likely it would have just been regular pleasantries between farmers market guy and potential customer. And youre too shy to have been able to bare speaking to himanyways! If you werent and if the best theoretical scenario happened, itd be like: you approach the stall and conversation is struck up. You are nervous to be speaking to someone so cute. You experience shy ness. This is normal. Its only because you do not know him! And thats okay. Hes charming but not so charming youd want to date and would like your phone number. "Id love to be friends but to let you know, im not looking to date. Apologies for being presumptuous!" Honesty is the best policy. If he doesnt want your number anymore then it really is best and most relieving for all parties. Hes charming and youd like to get to know him better but you dont think youd like to date but youre willing to give it a try and he would like your phone number. Go on that first date and have fun! First date doesnt mean you have to lock him down, go have fun since youve already met you know the conversation wont be insufferable at least. Hes charming and his personality is even more charming and you want to date. If he doesnt ask for your number, thats okay cant win em all. Also in this scenario he's charming but not so charming youd ask for his number. If he asks for your number and a date, go on the date! Youre going to be so nervous and thats normal. Youll be more aware of yourself (compared to the date from prev theoretical) but thats normal too. Have fun! At the end of the day, you wanted the mushroom seller to talk to you because you wanted the compliment of looking interesting and pretty. Which is fine but cant let it result in a loss of cash or time.

Oh btw u def bought two loaves of bread bc you were worried about what they were thinking of you (wrong motivation) which led to over eating bread since you had too much in the house (lame consequence) you know what you want to do. Do not stray. Do not revert to old habits, shake off the flinch and execute. Ugh it *is* guilt inducing to walk up to a stall without buying anything. And you feel that way bc youve been a girl scout manning a booth that gets overlooked. Its fine to feel this but you have to balance your actions with your desires. If the feeling is so strong that day, pick a baker and buy their loaf and thats it dont worry about missing out on other bread. If you are curious about the bread, steel yourself against the guilt. Do not overspend and over exert yourself for such silly a reason.

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iwadori · 3 years

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are you going to do a 'when the haikyuu boys make you insecure' part with Iwaizumi / could I request that?

When they make you insecure part 6 (Iwaizumi,Matsukawa)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Word Count: 2.8K

Genre: Angst, Fluff

masterlist

AN: Did I embedd myself in this story? Yes, yes i did. :3 (it’s only a small part dw loool)

Iwaizumi

One day when you were walking to the gym to go see your boyfriend

You overhear him and the team talking about some instagram girl

“She’s hot” you hear Boktuo yell doing a hoot as he fawns over a picture, with the rest of the guys agreeing.

“What do you think Iwaizumi?” Hinata ask

“She’s cute... I guess?” the rest of the guys, grunt in disagreement at Iwa’s lack of drooling over the girl.

“Well I see why you wouldn’t want her Haji-kun,” says Atsumu “you are into the more simple girls bro”

“Simple?” Iwaizumi questions, and the rest of the guys agree

“Yeah simple, you know Y/N... she’s simple” says one of the guys, with the word ‘simple’ rolling off their tounge with a tone of disgust.

“I guess your right guys...” Iwaizumi says “Y/N is pretty basic and simple but-”

You leave the gym before you hear what the rest of them had to say. When you got to your house you bolt straight to the mirror, you look at your outfit and frown. You never thought your style was ‘basic,’ to be fair you wouldn’t describe anybodys style as basic or simple. Of course, you weren’t like those instagram influencers, that wasn’t your thing. But Iwa has known that about you for years... but I guess that’s not what he truly likes.

You go to your closet and take out all the contents, just tossing all your clothes (even some of your favourite items ever) and dashing them in a black trash bag putting them to the side. You were already on a mission to buy a whole new wardrobe, going through all different stores and looking on pinterest for inspo.

You didn’t really talk to Iwa for the rest of the week, since you wanted him to see you in your ‘new form,’ you weren’t being radiosilent but you didn’t initiate any hang outs with him or face time calls (which he did find slightly odd, but didn’t think that much by it.)

Finally, the clothes came and you were kind of shocked at how much you ordered you spent over £200 on clothes from all different places. When you were trying them on, you liked some of them the ones that were kind of similar to your past style but not so ‘simple,’ the others you kind of frowned at since it definitely didn’t feel like ‘you’ at all. ‘This is for Iwa,’ you reminded yourself as your forced a smile on your face analysing yourself in the mirror.

You had everything sorted, your wardrobe was now changed and done the colours and styles you once wore before is now the complete opposite. You invited Iwa over, hesistantly waiting to see how would he react.

When you hear your door knock, you rush over to open it and model a pose you saw one of those girl do trying to look as natural as possible.

“Hey babe ho-” he says, with his eyes widening seeing your new look “Woah Y/N!”

“Hey Haji..come in!” you exclaim with a beaming smile pulling him inside to the couch. “So, are we going to continue watching the crown, I watched the previous episode and god prince phillip is such a dick.”

You look over your shoulder and see Iwa still standing in your entranceway a bit awkwardly, looking a bit stunned. “Come sit down then, we’ve got an episode to watch.”

“uh oh yeah, sure” he says blinking, following you to the couch.

You got through atleast 4 episodes together, you barely talked as you were really engrossed in the show. Iwa was barely paying attention, he was too busy questioning how you were acting. This definitely wasn’t the girl he knew, even the way you were acting whilst watch the show was odd. The way you’d cutely giggle and ‘sublty’ look over to him whilst laughing at a funny part of the show instead of just doing your usual obnoxious laugh that he loved to hear.

“Oh Y/N, I’m going to go to the bathroom.” he says standing up, you don’t reply you just wave your hand in acknowledgement.

On his way to the bathroom, Iwa nearly trips on a black bag left outside your bedroom door. He opens it, and mildly gasped when he saw all your old stuff jumbled up in there. He picks up the back and goes straight back to the living room and stands in front of you.

“Haji, what are you doing you’re blocking the TV” you complaining trying to see what’s happening behind him.

He drops the black bag infront of you and you internally curse yourself for not moving. You stare at him waiting for him to say something.

“Well whats this then.” he says looking down at you, almost like a disapproving dad.

“Clothes.” you say smartly, knowing what he was asking.

“You know what I meant Y/N, why are all your clothes in a garbage bag.”

“Because I wanted to put them there,” you wanted to seem as nochalant about it as possible as if putting all your clothes in a garbage bag doesn’t make you feel sad.

“Yeah but why?” he says sitting down next to you.

“Just because I wanted to” you reiterate “what else do you want me to say?”

“Well this isn’t like you, its just a bit random Y/N” he says

“I know this isnt like me you” you spat, standing up “Isn’t this what you wanted anyways.” You head to your bedroom picking up the bag with you, with Iwa hot on your heels.

“What do you mean this is what I wanted?” he says in disbelief “When did I ever say that?”

“It doesn’t matter” you mumble, you start to aggressively take our your old clothes and shove them back into your wardrobe whilst Iwa is just talking. You’re not really listening to him your just putting the clothes back.

“Y/N Stop!” he yells kind of knocking you out of your ‘trance,’ “what is going on with you?” he grabs you hands and pulls them down stopping you from what you were doing and he winced at seeing your tear stricken face.

He gently pulls you into his arms sitting you both on your bed, waiting for you to speak. “I don’t know what you want from me Iwa..” you start your voice slightly breaking “it’s just I did this all for you and you don’t even appreciate it.”

“I don’t know what you mean Y/N?” he says sounding genuinely confused.

“Y/N is simple and basic.” you say repeating words that you heard your boyfriend say about you, you feel him tense as you say it and you slowly get out of his hug.

“Y/N I-”

“That really hurt Hajime, I know now that I'm not your ‘type’ but I-”

“No Y/N, you are my type of course you are!” he says gulping in nervousness “I love you, and your style. I’ve always being enamored by how you dress and present yourself and I don’t know why I even said you’re basic and simple I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Really?” you say sniffling looking down

“Yes really you idiot,” he says lifting your head up “To be fair I don’t care what you wear, since you look great in anthing I just want you to be happy Y/N and especially not dress for anyone including me. Okay?”

“Okay,” you agree slightly nodding your head.

“Good, so can we go and finish the crown and then burn all these clothes?” Iwa jokes as he stands up.

“Burn them!” you exclaim “These cost £200, you muppet.”

“£200! Gosh Y/N, next time you go shopping im definitely coming with you.” he says shaking his head “can’t have you blowing out your bank account for clothes you don’t even like that much.”

You spend the rest of the day finishing of The Crown and you and Iwa eventually both sort out your wardrobe. Your style and aethetic changes a lot more through the times you were together and Iwa was very supportive and helpful of every single change. Especially *insert your favourite dress aesthetic here.*

Matsukawa

You were walking with your friends; Iwa, Tooru, Maki and your boyfriend Matsun. Walking to school as you did every morning, today the topic of conversation was Tooru’s bad taste in women.

“Gosh yesterday was horrible, she didn’t want to talk to me at all,” he complained “all she wanted to do was to come straight to my place, I didn’t even have the chance to tell her my hair routine.”

“That’s why you don’t find dates off of Tinder shittykawa” grunted Iwaizumi

“Well I know that now!” he exclaimed.

“Y/N,” said Makki grasping your attention “Would you ever use Tinder?”

“Well I-”

“Of course she wouldn’t” your boyfriend interrupted wrapping his arm round your shoulder “she’s got me”

“Yeah, but if you two weren’t together, would you use it.”

“Well may-”

“Y/N definitely wouldn’t” he said interrupting you AGAIN “she’s way to frigid for that shit”

Frigid? You thought to yourself, ouch. Their was a quick awkward silence and all you could hear was Matsukawa laughing with the others laughing after awkwardly in pursuit. After sensing your uncomfortability (is that a word?) Oikawa decides to change the subject to make things less awkward,

“I need a woman who understands me!” he rants “One that can listen to me and appreciate my awesome hair.”

“Goodluck with that Shittykawa.”

Oikawa rambles on as you walk to school with the other guys chiming in. You on the other hand, were lost in thought. Your sex life wasn’t something you would want to publicly talk about let alone to you and your boyfriends' male friends. Also, with Matsun describing you as ‘frigid’ struck a nerve. You weren’t frigid, well at least to you, you weren’t.

When you got to school you immediately rushed straight to your lesson claiming that you teacher really needed to talk to you. Which was odd to Matsukawa as you usually all hung around each other until the bell rang, the other boys gave each other knowing looks all assuming the reasons for your odd behaviour.

At lunch time, you stayed in your class instead of going up to the roof where you and your friends usually end up. In the class room you hear one of the girls in your class, Empress having one of her usual gossip conversations with her group of friends.

“Hajime is so hot!” she said, fanning her face being dramatic

“Of course he is! You should totally go for him.” her friend said and the rest of the friends agreed.

“What do you think Y/N?” she says to you catching your attention “you’re close friends with him right?”

“Yeah, I am” you say a bit sadly “You should definitely go for him, I think you’d be perfect together.”

“Okay! I think I might later” she says smiling. Her and friends leave, but then Empress returns and walks straight to you.

“Are you alright doll?” she asks softly smiling

“I guess so..” you say hesitantly “It’s just something my boyfriend said to me this morning.”

“Matsun?” she asks and you nod in reply “What did he say?”

After you rehash the situation from this morning Empress scowls in annoyance, “Boys can be such pigs sometimes, such a dick thing to say.”

“I know right!” you respond “Even if I was frigid, which im totally not it’s not even a bad thing nor is it something to reveal to people in public in a ‘jokey’ way.”

“Yeah!” she agrees “I think you should go and give him a piece of your mind.”

“I mean...” your voice falters, when it comes to Matsun you’ve never really given him a ‘piece of your mind,’ even when he makes jokes that you’re not so fond of.

“Come on!” she encourages “I’ll come with you and cheer you on.”

“You just want to come to see Iwa Empress” you say pointedly “But fine let’s go.”

You both power walk to the roof where you see the four seijoh boys sitting down and eating. “Oh hi Y/N/-chan and look Iwa its Emp-chan... isn’t that a surprise!” Iwa blushes and the rest of the guys laugh.

You walk straight up to Matsun and stand right infront of him. “Matsukawa I need to talk to you,” you say folding your arms. “Why whats up babe?” he says, still sitting down with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Alone.” you say turning around walking to a secluded spot. Behind you, you hear Matsun get up and the rest of the boys saying “oooh Matsukawa your in trouble” as they laugh.

“What’s wrong with you today Y/N?” he asks slightly accusatorily.

“I didn’t appreciate the comment you made today on the way to school,” you say with your arms folded.

“Oh that little comment about you being frigid, come on it was just a joke I wasn’t being serious.” he says lightly laughing but he stops once he sees the glare you give him ”you knew it was a joke right?”

“Matsun, some are your jokes just aren’t funny,” you say “especially when they're about me and our sex life in front of our friends too.”

“Y/N I didn’t mea-”

“You just come off as a huge dick sometimes, and I can’t do this anymore if you keep on making these comments anymore I don’t think I can do this.”

“Woah Y/N, are you threatening to break up with me?” he asks “Over a few little comments?”

“These aren’t a few little comments, sometimes what you say is just unnecessary and rude.”

“Okay well...”

“Well...” you repeat staring at him waiting for to apologise or atleast say something, “fuck you Matsukawa.”

You storm away and walk bout to the group saying “Empress lets go.” She jumps of Iwa’s lap and waves by to them following you back down to the school. You walk into the bathroom and just start to cry, “Y/N whats wrong?” Empress says pulling you into a hug

“H-He doesn’t care,” you cry “He pretty much excused his stupid comments, passing them off as little ‘jokes,’ that didn’t apparently mean anything.”

“Oh dear,” Empress says consoling you “he’s not worth your time right now.”

“B-but but I love him.” you wail fat tears streaming down your face.

“I know sweetheart, I know,” she says letting go of the hug “so what do you wanna do about him?”

“I don’t know,” you say “I don’t want to break up with him or anything, but is there a point in staying if he’s just going to make these comments again.”

“I don’t know Y/N, but whatever you wanna do I’ll support. Wether it’s keying his car or reading shitty fanfiction and crying.” Empress says making you laugh.

The final bell rings and now it's time to go home, of course you don’t walk with the guys so you just enjoy your own company walking home.

“Y/N! Y/N!” you hear from behind you and of course the only person it can be is Matsukawa.

“What do you want?” you mumbled

“I..I want too” he says heaving out of breath from the running he had to do “I want to apologise. I need do.”

“Okay...” you respond

“Im sorry, Im so so sorry,” he says “those jokes and comments were stupid and I agree I can be a dick sometimes. Well a lot of the time, but I never wanted to be a dick to you.”

“Well you were.”

“I know I was, and I’m so sorry. There’s no excuse what I said and what I have said before I just hope I can make it up to you.”

“Okay then.”

“So are we not broken up?”

“No we’re not broken up, but it’ll take a lot of making up to do for me to fully forgive you.”

“Great! And I'll spend every day to get you to forgive me.”

Which he did, he spent every day showering you with love and affection. He was way better than he was before, you even went on double dates with Oikawa and his flavour of the week and triple dates with Iwa and his girlfriend. Matsukawa, although he still made jokes, he never targeted them and centered them around you in an insulting way.

AN: I didn’t really like the matsukawa one since i couldn’t really write for him properyl sooo sorry bout that one kids.

#haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyu angst #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyu scenarios #haikyu headcanons #haikyu #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi angst #iwaizumi scenarios #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi fluff #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa angst #matsukawa fluff #matsukawa oneshot #signedwithane😌

1K notes · View notes

notnctu · 3 years

Text

backseat chronicles - n.jm | ridin’ club

━ welcome to the ridin’ club smut series

genre ➠ slow burn, smut, fluff, lil angst wordcount ➠ 8.5k details ➠ fem!reader, streetracer!jaemin, badboy!jaemin, college!au ━ where Jaemin brings you to his club races as his arm candy. warnings ➠ explicit language, overstimulation, flirty banter, pet names, softdom!jaemin, car sex, praise kink, hittin it raw (y/n on the pill), oral, daddy kink, slight corruption kink, fingering synopsis ➠ There is no reasonable explanation as to why or how you always end up in the backseat of Na Jaemin’s beloved car. Almost routinely, he picks you up around ten in the evening with the stereo blasting the raunchiest lyrics for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. The entire night remains purely friendly, a dabble of flirtatious comments because well, it’s Jaemin for fuck sakes. But all it takes is one suggestive gaze from his dark, lustful eyes and a drop in his voice that rumbles your core to have you climbing over the seats to get to the back. taglist ➠ @rabbit-doyochi ; @darkneogotmyback ; @im-lame-irl ; @p-mini ; @niniluvsmarkhyuck ; @saniahmichael ; @jaehy9ngs ; @danyxthirstae01 ; @jaehyunoos ; @pikijaemin ; @suhweo ; @yunoyeol ; @lanadreamie ; @ta3ilmoon ;

a/n ➠ hi yall its author doie❀!! thank you for over 1k notes on this series, im beyond impressed by the amount of attention this got! it really blew up and its so crazy!! i wrote this one with more of a romantic plotline i realized its too hard to keep it pwp with all the story building and characterization i have :)) it’s almost over yall! pls pls leave me feedback im sorry it took so long to write ):

While college lecture rooms are too big to interact with other students, discussion classes are there to ease the difficulty. A classroom for about twenty students from a three hundred person lecture. It’s administered by a clueless TA, who barely began his second term in graduate school.

Unlike lecture, attendance is mandatory for participation points. You show up every time without a fail, so it came as a shock to you when a certain blue haired student finally appeared from the list of absent students.

Na Jaemin. The notorious playboy with looks that kill and partakes in some illegal racing club. It’s as if every person in the room fawns over his aura, Jaemin drips with an inexplicable alluring confidence. You didn’t know anything about him besides the fact that he never shows up for class and rumors about how he’s slept with the entire cheer squad.

But he’s drawn to you like a magnet: always sitting in the available spot next to you, asking about your day before the TA arrives, developing an odd staring problem. You don’t feed much into his attention, minding your own business when he starts with his notably flirtatious greeting.

“You just take my breath away, (Y/N).” Jaemin cocks back in his seat with legs stretched wide in an overly comfortable manner. The smug smirk on his face cannot be ignored, he’s doing the absolute most to get you to pay the smallest attention to him.

“I didn’t do anything in particular to do that, Jaemin.” You respond bitterly, pulling out your notes for today’s discussion class. The TA enjoys wasting the first twenty minutes going over the past lecture slides and running through the most obvious topics.

You pay no mind to Jaemin peering over at you with the single handedly most dreamy eyes and smile --- stars shining in his dark orbs and a dazzling twinkle in his wide toothy grin.

“That’s why you’re so amazing. You do nothing and it still leaves me breathless.” His sneaky eyes examine your clothing choice for the long day. On this warm afternoon, the short tank top does nothing to hide much of your skin and the denim shorts that ride up a little too well drive Jaemin insane. And when you cross your legs together, he swallows the spit that pools in the back of his throat.

Your ears catch onto the murmurs of the rest of the class, the midterm is next week. The wretched midterm that is half of your grade dooms you, it is going to take an endless amount of completely undistracted dedicated hours of study--- “On a more serious note, can you help me with this class?”

His voice shatters your inner panic, if anything, adds to the stress that already beats down on your shoulders. You look up to glare at him, but you’re entirely taken aback by the new styling of his hair and the exposure of his tattoos.

The sweet blue cotton candied strands are ruffled lazily above his brows, messy from him constantly running his hand through them. Jaemin sits relaxed in gray sweatpants that are extremely baggy on his slender figure, hands are shoved casually into the pockets.

But what has you staring for longer is the long sleeve of tattoos that wrap around his left arm. Not that you’re surprised that Jaemin has tattoos, let alone a whole sleeve, but this is your first time seeing it as this is the first time he’s come to class without his leather jacket on. Something about the intricate lines and shadowing make Jaemin seem much cooler, almost more attractive.

When you meet his eyes, his lips curl slowly into a sly side smile and he’s practically eating you up under his gaze. He definitely knew that you were staring and what comes next out of his mouth will haunt you for it. “Like what you see, beautiful?”

“I don’t have the time to help you.” The best way out of this situation is to simply ignore it. Jaemin is overly adored and admired by many, he’ll find someone else to help him.

“Jaemin, do you want to study together?” There you go, folks. The random girl snickers with her small huddle of friends in the upper corner of the room, like a crowd of crows, they’re all waiting around for Jaemin to accept her offer so he can be easily integrated into their little group.

However, you watch how his glances bounce between you and her. The most sickly sweet, kind smile is almost too fake to consider it to be genuine. His final choice surprises you, “thank you for offering, but I only want (Y/N)...”

Your breath hitches and gets caught in your throat as you hope for him to finish his sentence, the drumming of your heart distracting you even more. Jaemin wants you? While the thought is flattering, it puzzles you greatly.

“... to help me with my studies.” Jaemin finishes his sentence after a rather long pause, his eyes finally resting upon your figure shying away and finding any way to seem uninterested in the conversation. “Is that going to be okay, (Y/N)?”

“What do I get out of it?” You can’t believe that you are actually considering it. But this is a man that only wants you to help him. Jaemin is an impossible, yet charming man and whatever comfortable attire he is wearing today is really aiding in his request.

He lights up, ears perked up and eyes attentive. His hands fold together on the empty desk, leaning forward towards you. “Dates with me.”

Rolling your eyes, you groan slightly at the arrogant answer. “I don’t care about that. I want something that benefits me.”

“I’ll make sure you’re well fed.” There is a tiny plea in his tone, a remarkable shift from his cool aura. “What do you want? I’ll give it to you.”

“I guess I can’t turn down free food…” there is a hang in your sentence as you contemplate what chaos you’re about to dive into and what life changes are about to be explored with Jaemin.

“Before you agree,” Jaemin chuckles, “there’s one more thing I’d like you to do for me.”

You’re quick to shoot a daggering glare at the overly enthusiastic boy, “why do I suddenly owe you favors?”

“Because I say so.” He deadpans, a chill running down your spine at the deep dip in his octave. The playfulness that was present all this time suddenly vanished, a serious look that intimidates you, but sexy enough to where it erupts something in your core. He blinks at you with dark clouded eyes and you nervously anticipate what he is going to ask next of you.

“Accompany me to my races.” He speaks lowly as if he’s afraid of someone else eavesdropping in the conversation.

Here’s your issue with that request: you’ve never really been part of that scene. You’ve lived pretty mundanely, even in college. It’s simple, you like to stay within the boundaries of what you enjoy to do and what you have to do. But you’re always open minded and willing to try something to determine whether or not you’re fond of it.

Partying and drinking copious amounts of alcohol weren’t your favorite things to do, especially to the point of forgetting your nights. You wanted to remember your nights as much as you do your days. The youth isn’t here for long, why waste them by blacking out in the middle of a large party? Also, whoever said that alcohol goes down smooth is a blatant liar.

Illegal racing could possibly be an extension of people who participate in those things, which is fine, but does place a crippling fear of coming off too boring or unrelatable inside your nervous system. But just because you don’t do those things doesn’t mean that you’re not as cool, right?

Since when was your status based nonsensically on how often you spend your nights in socializing crowds full of sweaty bodies and how much cheap booze you can drink? It had to be all in your head --- you’re just dreading any awkward socializing with people who race cars when it’s absolutely illegal.

“Why me?” It’s a genuine answer, possibly stemming from your insecurities of not being on the same level of charm as Jaemin exudes. You’re not a fool, you’re well aware of the many different people he comes across on campus so, why you?

Jaemin doesn’t hesitate to answer, “why not you? You’re just my type. Hot and smart. Cute and a little shy. The greatest duality, if you ask me.” His words seem so genuine that it has you believing these things about yourself as well.

Nonetheless, you’re taken aback by his observations and his choice of descriptions. “We’ve barely ever talked. How can you say these things so confidently about me?”

Jaemin slightly pulls your chair closer to his own and you yelp in response to the sudden movement and lack of space that separates the two of you. He leans into you, breath hot on your skin and obvious eyes darting between your shocked ones and pretty lips.

“So let’s get to know each other. I can already tell that it’ll just make me fall for you even more.” His finger lightly traces your jaw, stopping at your chin to give it a small lift to meet his focus. Jaemin loves how you squirm underneath his intensity, you’re too cute to let go. “Plus, my boys will love you. I’m sure of it.”

The TA rushes in quickly and is utterly distressed from the traffic that had pushed back his schedule. “Sorry, I’m late everyone.” He rummages through his things to find his notes, but groans to see that the monitor of the computer is off. It’s going to take him another ten minutes to input all his credentials.

But your attention doesn’t stray from Jaemin, especially with his delicate touch at the bottom of your chin. His gentle smile enacts nothing but a soft love, and a peak of interest. Na Jaemin, the one and only. He’s like an adventure waiting to be explored, an open bottle of fun for you to take a sip.

“What would I have to do?” Your voice comes out shaky.

“Just be there as your pretty self.” Jaemin comes off as the type to always have women around him, “you’ll be my lucky charm. For some reason, I always feel better around you.”

The escalation of this conversation is possibly more action you’ve had to handle in the last two years. Jaemin drops your chin and falls back into his own seat with his arms crossed. He is about to turn your life upside down and whether that be a good or bad thing, you don’t mind. You’re excited for the new thrills that come with being by Na Jaemin’s side.

Jaemin’s hot hands lift your shirt quickly, throwing it towards the front seat of his car. His lips return to your soft neck, nibbling at your skin tenderly and with love bites that will remind you of his gentle touches. The streetlamps outside flicker impatiently as you feel the eagerness soaking your panties and he lifts you up to take them off.

“My sweet girl,” his voice is light and airy that it becomes almost lost in the heat of the car. “You’re excited tonight. Did you miss me?” The devilish smirk can be felt upon your collarbones.

“Yes, I haven’t seen you for almost five days.” A peculiar whine settles in your pout and Jaemin’s low growl sends shivers down your spine. The only barrier are his own tight jeans and your hands are fast at unbuckling his belt. Jaemin relaxes back, forearms resting on your soft thighs and watching the neediness in your expression and the speed of your hands. He smiles to himself seeing you this way, wanting him so badly that you can’t wait to get him out of his jeans.

Throughout the two months that you and Jaemin finally became well acquainted, he’s fallen inexplicably into your trance. His friends made it very clear to you that he doesn’t keep the same girl around for more than a few weeks. But he’s brought you to almost every race so far and despite the initial shock of your appearance after the third time, you didn’t let the passing comments phase you.

Why he hasn’t replaced you is unknown and truthfully, there is no reasonable explanation how you always wind up in the backseat of his car by the end of the night. It’s become part of your routine. Jaemin picks you up around ten in the evening with raunchy lyrics blasting out of his personalized car for your entire suburban neighborhood to hear. More often than not, Jaemin has food ready for you to devour and a cozy blanket for your exposed legs.

You’ve learned a bit more about him through your backseat chronicles. Jaemin is possibly one of the only people in your life with a heart bigger than his own body, while also being as carefree as he can. Oddly enough, he cares about you as his friend and as his companion. Not to mention the ridiculous, yet endearing nickname, “Lucky Charm”, that he has coined upon you.

Jaemin has been the best adventure you’ve had in ages. While he takes you on intoxicating thrill rides on the leather of his back seats, every street race has been more than unforgettable. He shares one of the same values as you --- wanting to remember the present. You both know that you’ll remember each other enough for it to transcend into your next lives.

You have him to thank for your youthful experiences, to learn and dive into this new found world of mischief under his care. Jaemin treats you extraordinarily well, he’d never hurt a soul. He showers you in appraisal and carefulness, he’s attentive to your behavior and remembers your favorite things. And he reminds you almost every time you see him that he’s so grateful to have you in his life.

“Have you been touching yourself?” Jaemin’s bold question catches you off guard as it causes your hands to shyly hover over his unzipped jeans. When you glance up at him with soft innocent eyes, as if you’re guilty of a crime and wish to beg for forgiveness, his facial expression is serious and intimidating.

“Continue, baby. You can be honest with me. Daddy isn’t going to punish you if you did.” His tone is sweet and light, but his eyes are dark and piercing. His lips are drawn tightly into a thin line, no curve in sight.

His finger grazes down your cheek gently as he admires your slightly parted lips and the way your eyelashes dance every time you blink. However, his other hand urges you to continue your previous action of getting him out of his restrictive jeans.

You nod, while rubbing his erection through his gray briefs that hug him so tightly. There’s a sharp intake of breath when you pull the waistband of his underwear down and his cock stands against his lower abdomen. “Do you think of me when you do?” His voice gets caught in his throat when you take him in your warm hand.

“Always.” You kiss his jawline and fix your position above his dick. Your slick pussy presses down against his shaft, coating it in your juices and rubbing his tip to your clit for a delicious sensation. Jaemin groans, his gaze dipping between your lower bodies and back to your face.

“My sweet (Y/N) thinks about her daddy fucking her senseless while she touches herself.” Jaemin chuckles darkly, grinding his hips harder against you. There is a shift in the atmosphere as he grips your hips and slowly enters your dripping hole. “That’s cute, baby.”

You hold onto his shoulders as his raw dick fills you to the brim, stretching you out like past nights. Gasps leave your body when he starts pulling all the way out to only have you sink back down. “Daddy, please just fuck me.”

Jaemin picks up his speed, knowing that you have a quiz due at midnight that you scolded him for forgetting earlier. The grip on his shoulders tighten as this man navigates your body all too well. He knows you like the back of his hand, fucking the spot that causes your body to lose control.

One of his favorite sights in the world is the view of your lips parted open with loud whimpers falling effortlessly. Your eyes roll back into your skull as his hips roll deeper into your walls, the tip hitting your sweet spot repeatedly.

“You’re always the best girl for me, aren’t you?” His hand wraps around your neck when you throw your head back, choking you lightly and your walls grip around his shaft. “I know you’re close. Cum on my dick, baby. Be a good girl.”

Jaemin’s tattoos shine under the moonlight when you peer down at him. His hooded eyes are intoxicated by the pure image of your fucked out body and he’s truly in love. “My good girl, come on baby.” He continues to encourage, his other hand giving you a smack on your ass when he drills mercilessly into you.

The familiar bubbling occupy your lower half and the feeling of release unravels all so suddenly. You fall forward, Jaemin lets go of your neck to hold your limp body close to him, your head on his shoulder as your orgasm overtakes you. He grinds his hips into you to prolong your shaking climax, cooing sweet nothings in your ear as his other hand takes a whole handful of ass to squeeze.

He bottoms out, filling you up to the rim to cum deep inside of you. Jaemin moans loudly, his cum spilling all over your walls. You two sit like that until he grows soft, pampering your temples with gentle kisses. Jaemin remembers to take care of you, no matter what.

While you’re in his arms, he reaches for sanitary wipes in the side compartments. He lifts your hips slowly to pull out and you sigh at the emptiness. Gently, he swipes at the dripping cum from your pussy and makes sure that you’re all cleaned up before getting dressed.

“So, you want to tell me why you’ve been MIA for the past five days?” Rolling your eyes, you pull up your panties and fix the last decency of your hair.

“Car meets that are too far for me to take you.” His thumb rubs your chin lovingly and Jaemin’s eyes are so bright and mesmerizing, you find that it’s hard to look him in the eye at times.

“Not because you’ve been hooking up with other girls?” There is a tinge of sarcasm that laces your rhetorical question and though you don’t expect him to give you an actual answer, you take note of his reaction. Jaemin raises an eyebrow, clearing his throat and looking out the window away from you.

“And if I was?” Truthfully, that question hurt you more than your’s hurt him. His hand rests underneath his chin as he patiently waits for your answer. He admires the clear night sky and the rundown abandoned liquor store that stands all by itself.

“What do you want me to say?” Question after question, a stiff tension replaces the sex of the car.

“I’ll take you back now.” Jaemin crawls back to the driver’s seat, completely ignoring your confused figure. He has always been quite like this: going aloof whenever he wants to dodge something. However, it’s been happening more frequently the past times you two have been seeing each other.

The truth is simple, yet entirely complex at the same time. You and Jaemin aren’t dating, despite always going out together and him posessively introducing you to other men. You and Jaemin aren’t dating.

Nevertheless, it doesn’t stop you from growing feelings for him and you can tell that this happens too often for the attractive boy. He can’t have a fuckbuddy that won’t fall head over heels for him. But who could really blame you? Even if all this time Jaemin was pretending that he cared about you, he still pampers you like a princess; he still tells you he does.

But when it comes to discussion about advancing into something more, he hides and grows silent. This has you wondering, maybe this entire thing to him is all sex? And he can’t love you back the way you do.

No one knows his heart, not even himself. He’s never wanted to complicate his life, it’s always been about two things: racing and having fun. There is no easy way to explain it all, the thoughts that flood his mind and heart, so he chooses every way to ignore it. Overall, he’s genuinely lost. You are one source of stability in his life that he isn’t willing to let go, ever. But just because he won’t let you go, doesn’t mean that you won’t take the chance to leave when you’re fed up with him.

This has him wondering, how far can he push before he pushes you too far?

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just walk.” Tonight is unsettling, it usually doesn’t end like this. Jaemin locks the car doors and turns around to reach for your hand. “Jaemin, open the door.”

“I want you to say that you hate when I sleep with other people.” Jaemin confesses all too wildly as his hand lightly squeezes around your wrist. “And I want you to mean it.” He’s only speaking words of truth that haven’t had the time to process in his own thoughts.

“I hate when you sleep with other people.” And you do mean it. You mean it more than anything you’ve ever said to this man. Jaemin just sighs, bringing your wrist to his lips for a lasting kiss.

“Can I drive you home?” Jaemin asks softly, eyes dipping down to the leather seats and avoiding all need for eye contact.

“Yes, Jaemin.” He pulls you back into the passenger seat and drapes the soft blanket over your exposed legs. “Hopefully, I still have time to take my quiz.”

“Can I come inside?” Jaemin coolly turns his marble wheel to reverse out of the parking space, a hand resting on the shoulder of your seat as he does a double take behind him for any pedestrians, even if you two are far out in the middle of nowhere and there isn’t anyone around; Jaemin knows you have the hots for him when he does that specific move.

“What do you mean? You’ve already cum inside.”

It’s the sound of disappointment as his tongue tsks at you and he flicks lightly at your forehead. He steps on the acceleration, revving the annoying engine that roars throughout the peaceful night. The multicolored lights illuminate around his stereo and at your feet, creating the Rainbow Road right out of Mario Kart.

Jaemin isn’t like the others who pay close attention to the details of his car. His motto goes, “if I like it, I’m going to have it.” Whether or not anything matches goes beyond his worries.

In some ways, his car is a mirror of his own personality --- wild and free, colorful and welcoming. And his skills as a driver? Safe, no matter how far the speedometer goes, Jaemin always makes you feel safe.

“I mean come inside your room for aftercare. You know how much I hate leaving you without a proper cuddle.” He pouts and almost immediately his cute baby tone comes out with his beg. Almost subconsciously, Jaemin lays his right palm open facing up to invite yours in. Almost routinely, you lace your hands to complete his hold. Getting Jaemin to smile has never been easier as his hold grows tighter.

“You can’t stay over tonight though. My housemates are doing some Single Girls Only house event tomorrow and it starts immediately when we wake up.” You laugh as the ridiculous words fill the air.

“And you’re participating in that?” Jaemin mindlessly asks and you’re unable to differentiate his implications from the question. Is he asking because the idea is horrendously nothing you’d like to do or he’s implying that you’re not single?

“Why wouldn’t I?” Sounding rather harsher than intended, Jaemin finally realizes how poorly he had worded his previous question. Yet, a part of him feels disappointment whirling in his chest and a desire to feel wanted by you.

“Doesn’t seem like something you’d like: wallowing in your singleness.” He chuckles, remaining lighthearted and playful.

“I really don’t.” Jaemin brings your knuckles up to his lips for a lingering kiss, his eyes darting quickly on the road ahead now that you’ve entered the metropolitan areas and his speed drops significantly to avoid getting ticketed.

“I’ll come pick you up. Instead of being single tomorrow, you’ll be on a date.” When you turn to examine his facial expression, the serious tension in his jawline and focused eyes alarm you. Your stomach twists into knots and if he couldn't already tell, your palms grow sweaty at his offer.

“That’s such a slap in the face to them.” Pulling your hand away from his, you cross your arms and lean your head against the cold window. “I don’t think I can do that to them.”

“I have a race tomorrow.” He starts, his head tilting over at you with his round gorgeous begging eyes, “at least, come to that with me.”

��Okay, but only because I want to see Haechan.” As if it wasn’t moments ago, Jaemin was the one balls deep in you and now you’re spewing enthusiasm for another man. It’s all a joke, a way for you to conceal your undying attraction for Jaemin.

You still remember the first time you met the sunshine that is Haechan and the jealousy that seeped from Jaemin’s words when he noticed the exchange of flirtation. Haechan is someone you’d knowingly gravitate towards: a man with a loud personality that just knows how to conduct every personality in the room. And at that moment, Jaemin couldn’t tell if being more observant was a good or bad thing.

Jaemin never saw himself as outgoing as his other friends, staying more kept in his own circle, but he had the confidence to fake it. He’s bold, rather impulsive and slightly narcissistic, Jaemin knows how to use his strengths very well.

However, when he saw the soft smirk on Haechan’s face and your shy mannerisms, a small tinge in his chest ignited a died out flame. He didn’t realize it before, but that was the very start of his long tumble of feelings for you.

“Do you say those things to purposefully get me jealous?” Jaemin rests his hand on your thigh, giving it a harsh squeeze. His eyes never leave the road and his tone reverts back to his dominant tone.

“Well, are you jealous?” It’s like you two dance in circles, answer questions with a question does not stop.

And as bratty as your tone is, you don’t expect the quick “yes” that answers back and the smoldering look he gives you briefly before focusing back on the drive.

“Then good.” You huff, ready to hop out of the car after the odd, yet sensual tension. Jaemin pulls up to your house and double parks the car to lean in for a nightly goodbye kiss.

“You’re not coming in?” You try to read his facial expressions, but he hides his emotions too perfectly.

His lips curl into a smile before saying, “I think it’s better I cool off tonight.” And you mindlessly give him a peck, but he holds your face to deepen it. Through the kiss, you can feel the neediness by the way Jaemin shoves his tongue into your mouth. The taste of lust against your palette is difficult to ignore, but your academically responsible mind screams at you about your forgotten quiz.

Your hand lightly taps at his chest and he pulls away, his eyes drinking up your swollen lips. “I have a quiz, Jaemin.”

“I know, sorry. It’s just so easy to get lost in you.” Jaemin kisses your cheek once more before you exit. You smile back at him as his words have grown a strong effect on you lately. Bidding him goodbye, he wishes you sweet dreams as he patiently makes sure you’re fully inside your house.

“Is the music too loud?” Jaemin checks over at your hunched figure in the passenger seat. You’re diligently flipping through your thick textbook, a yellow highlighter in one hand and the other comfortably holding Jaemin’s.

The worst part of college is the never ending midterms that are given at any time. Studying in his car isn’t a rare sight, if anything it is more expected than you not doing anything related to your academics. But Jaemin genuinely doesn’t mind, even being mindful about his own actions to ensure an optimal studying space for you.

He really is an ideal guy. Like his first promise, he keeps you well fed and never once asks you for any monetary pay back. Jaemin adjusts the car temperature before you even step into the vehicle, knowing that you prefer wearing less clothes rather than more. Though he isn’t academically responsible, he still makes the effort to try and understand enough information to pass his classes.

The sole flaw would be the lack of open communication. It’s genuinely difficult for you to read his emotions or intentions. Jaemin always has a dazed look in his eyes whenever he looks at you, and it’s an internal fight about whether or not you’re being delusional.

“Music is fine, honey.” The mindless use of a pet name slips from your lips, but your concentration on neoliberalism and globalization doesn’t allow for you to notice.

Nevertheless, Jaemin catches on immediately to the usage. While he showers you in ridiculous nicknames, you’re not one to do so. “Honey?”

“Yes?” You answer back carelessly, not entirely actively listening to him as you highlight an important concept in your book.

“No, you called me honey.”

Looking up from your page, you blink at him with wide eyes and mouth slightly agape. “I did?”

Jaemin chuckles and finally pulls into the overly crowded parking lot, a whole mass of fanboys cheering at the arrival of his flashy vehicle. Everyone just loves Jaemin.

This familiar scene plays like a reel --- several high beams cast light under the dark sky due to the lack of functioning street lamps, dizzy multicolored cars that blaze the tracks, and the all too distinct smell of musky cologne in the chilly air. Oh, and the wide eye admirable stares when you get out of the car.

“Hi, you’re stunning.” A bold new recruit blinks at you in complete awe and awkwardly clears his throat once he realizes his rash comment.

Jaemin raises an eyebrow at him, then at how you plan on handling the situation. You’re flattered, nonetheless, but know that Jaemin didn’t bring you here to flirt with other men. “Thank you. I hope you enjoy your membership in the Ridin’ Club.”

The gracefulness in your delicate voice has the youthful recruit swooning and subtly giddy as he runs off to join a group of others that have been eying you across the parking lot. Jaemin casually drapes his leather jacket over your exposed shoulders, knowing the temperature change is going to result in you most likely catching a cold and because you never bring a jacket despite his plea.

“The power you hold.” Jaemin winks at you before pulling you into a larger crowd to socialize with more impressionable recruits.

“Ah, so you’re (Y/N)!” The stranger is unrecognizable, but you giggle to acknowledge his confident statement. “We haven’t met before, but Jaemin was talking about you the other night at our motorcycle meet.”

Your eyes light up, as if you’ve unlocked a new fun fact of Na Jaemin. “You drive a motorcycle too?” You’re truly shocked at the talent of this man.

Jaemin snakes his arm around your lower waist to draw you closer to his side. “Yeah, but I can’t fuck you in a motorcycle, can I?”

Before the other men can comment on the obvious sexual tension that Jaemin created, he leans in to whisper into your ear. “Actually, I can, but we’ll save our decency from unwanted exposure.” His hot breath grazes against the shell of your ear and you just know where you two are going to end up tonight.

“Bro, you guys probably fuck in the backseat of his car.” One of them chimes recklessly, punching at each others’ chest playfully as if he made a decent joke.

“Why don’t you stay to find out?” Jaemin retorts and the grip on your hip becomes tighter. You’re too flustered to add much into this odd form of competitive banter, distracted by none other than the way Jaemin keeps glancing over at you with a delicious gleam in his eyes.

“So what? You don’t care about us now?” You’d know that bratty tone from anywhere as Lee Haechan pushes past everyone else to rush over to the both of you.

“Aw, are your feelings hurt?” Jaemin sticks his tongue out at his friend before cordially sharing a handshake with him.

“Just slightly.” Haechan looks over at you with a wide grin and playful eyes, “hello, my pretty girl.”

“Drop the possessives, Haechan.” Jaemin rolls his eyes with an irritable twitch on his lips.

He hates how obviously jealous he gets. It’s something too difficult for himself to control, he’s exhausted his efforts to bite his tongue whenever it comes to other people’s flirtations. The thought of someone else calling you theirs doesn’t sit well with him.

“I understand your jealousy, Jaem. If someone was flirting with (Y/N), I wouldn’t be able to stand it either.” Haechan fixes the falling jacket on your shoulders. “But she can handle herself, I know those pretty lips have a mind of their own.” His gaze drops momentarily, yet obvious enough for you to grow shy at how strong Haechan is coming off tonight.

“Stop trying to corrupt her, that’s my job.” Jaemin playfully pushes at Haechan’s chest and they both break out laughing.

“I haven’t said one thing and you’re both talking about me as if I’m not here.” Your small pout is literally the cutest thing to Jaemin. He physically has to stop himself from planting the sweetest kiss on it.

It’s blatantly clear that you’re hot stuff. You’re the perfect example of a head turner, your captivating aura has its ability to suffocate those around you. However, Jaemin has seen all sides of you, but overall finding you so entirely cute. And oddly enough, Jaemin has a knack for cute things.

“Is that (Y/N) I hear?” Huang Renjun engulfs you in a hug, showing clear affection and doesn’t mind doing so. “How did your project go?”

“It went well. You accomplish a lot when you don’t procrastinate.” Renjun gleams at your statement and if Jaemin is delusional enough, he’d probably mistaken the twinkle in his eyes for infatuation instead of admiration.

“You’re so responsible, why are you messing with Jaemin?” Renjun sighs and though his question is more of a joke, there is some truth behind his words.

Your friendship with his friends differ immensely compared to other girls who have come around. Like Jaemin had said before, his boys were going to like you and they do, a lot. Sometimes making it obvious that you’re too good for him.

Jeno comes up from the side, an unidentifiable bruise on his neck and a new cut on his brow. Lee Jeno being such a rough character, his appearance speaks well about how his day has been.

But when he lays his eyes on you, it’s as if all his pain is replaced with joy and security. “(Y/N)! I haven’t seen you in so long!” The enthusiastic boy rushes over to greet you with a warm smile.

“I’m pretty sure I was here a week ago.” You laugh, but welcome him in your arms for a tender friendly hug and pat his head out of habit.

“It’s been a week?! That’s so long.” Jeno narrows his eyes at Jaemin and flicks his forehead.

“Ow!” Jaemin exclaims while rubbing the pain away. “You act like she doesn’t go to the same school as us and therefore, can see her any time you want to.” The tone in Jaemin’s voice raises some eyebrows as they all exchange glances to each other before bursting into laughter.

“Like your jealous ass would allow for that?” Haechan remarks and Jaemin doesn’t outwardly react. However, Jaemin’s hand is squeezing you so tight that you’re more than certain he’s bothered by the comment.

“Oh, stop it. You all know I’m Team Jaemin. He does have the most wins this past month.” You only know that through Jaemin’s proud boasting, anything else in the racing world is unknown to you.

Jaemin situates you in between his legs as he slightly sits on the hood of his car. His arms wrap around your middle and chin rests on your shoulder. Public display of affection isn’t a problem for him, and you learned much earlier that Jaemin can’t keep his hands off of you.

Renjun scoffs at your whimsical fact, in absolute disbelief. “It hurts more hearing you say it. I’m getting my car upgraded, but once it’s done, I’m going to blaze his ass on the tracks.”

“Are you racing today?” Jeno asks the blue haired fellow that clings onto you like a koala.

“Yeah, against a newbie. Apparently he’s really good, so I’m not too sure I’ll win.” Jaemin mumbles into your hair.

“You say that every time, yet you win!” Renjun crosses his arms, weight shifting to his left leg as he pops his hip out. There is always a sense of competition between anyone with Renjun.

Jaemin perks up behind you and when you turn around in his arms, you’re face to face with a beaming smile. “That’s because I have you.” Eyes lock with yours, he isn’t saying that directed to Renjun. Na Jaemin has you wrapped around his pinky, the butterflies fluttering in your stomach are too hard to ignore.

“Alright, lovebirds. Get in your car and let’s start this shit.” Haechan groans and claps his hands to draw the crowd’s attention. Cupping them around his mouth, he roars into the starry night, “let’s roll!”

During the race, Jaemin’s number one priority is to keep you safe. While you’ve sat in his car for a number of times now, it’s different once the loud bang goes off and he’s hitting 100 mph. Tonight’s track is much more dangerous, with twists and turns that can have the vehicle flying weightlessly if he’s not careful.

“You trust me, right?” Jaemin has both hands on the wheel and the engine rumbling as you both anticipate the start of the race.

Spectators watch on the sidelines as if it’s the ultimate battle, but Jaemin doesn’t pay them much mind. He’s more concerned about you instead. “Of course. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now. You’ve proven yourself that you’re an excellent driver, so let’s win this.”

Jaemin smirks at your encouraging words, feeling a warmth spread across his chest. “I’ll tap out any time you want me to, okay?”

You nod and the initial whip of the car is so intense that you didn’t even register the sound off. It’s not your first race, but it’s been awhile since the last one. When you adjust to the pressure, the lanes in front of you cause a slight queasiness in your stomach.

It’s a two lane windy road that wraps around the mountain side and Jaemin happens to be in the outer lane. All it takes is a second of lost control and you two will hit the metal railings that guard the cliff below. Despite your inner panic, Jaemin guides you through the pooling anxiety that leaves you restless.

“(Y/N), look up and out the window. We’re coming up on the cliff side view, I’ve always wanted to bring you here.” Your eyes land on the dazzling glitter that dances on the ripples of the lake. It’s so vast, the moon high up in the sky is reflected on the water below. It’s a romantic scene of melancholy and bliss. Suddenly, you feel at peace in the middle of this high speed race.

“It’s beautiful, Jaem.” You whisper calmly and he’d reach for your hand to hold, but races take too much wheel control. And he’d turn to look at you, but races take too much concentration on the road ahead.

But throughout every obstacle, he hears the gentleness and the solidarity in your cadence in the midst of all the high stress. He, too, feels peace. He feels calm knowing that you’re simply by his side, even in the face of danger. So, he can finally admit to himself… he genuinely developed feelings for you.

Before you know it, you’re thrusted side to side from the sharp turns and the adrenaline kicks in when the other racer catches up right next to Jaemin. “Fuck,” Jaemin curses underneath his breath and steps harshly on the acceleration. “Baby, I’m going to go a bit faster so hold onto something.” He warns and your hand finds the grab handle. It’s neck and neck at this point.

Usually, you squeeze your eyes shut to avoid becoming too overwhelmed by the sights in front of you. Tonight is different, not entirely knowing why, you’re observing every element that circles around the perimeter.

The finish line is up ahead, but there is no sign that the other racer is slowing down. Then, you see it: the fatal mistake that can cost you both of your lives if you didn’t catch it. “Jaemin, watch out!” You yelp when the other car inches dangerously close, your warning allows Jaemin to make a controlled swerve away from a possible hit.

Jaemin shakes his head and tsks at the recklessness. “Now I know why he’s good. It’s foul play.” He blows his bang out of his eyes and casually says, “thank you for warning me. This is why I need you by my side.”

He makes it to the finish line barely before the other, winning the race by half a second. Jaemin brakes smoothly, tire marks scrapping the concrete below, and you both exit the car to celebrate with everyone else.

But before the mass of eager shouting men make their way over to you two, Jaemin hurries to your side to pull you into a steamy, rewarding kiss. The scene is just like the movies; his hand on your lower back and yours on his chest lightly. His lips taste like triumph, like he had won more than just a simple race against a random stranger. He’s won the best person he could ever have.

You two fled the scene after cussing out the other racer. It was a rare sight to see: Jaemin being all bothered and angry, practically fuming after scrambling back into the driver’s seat. However, your mind had mischievous plans of its own and all it took was one look from his hooded eyes for you to announce that you wanted him --- badly.

Back in your usual abandoned parking lot, Jaemin pauses before following you to the back seats. With the engine off and the dead of the night being absolute silent, the tension remains thick around you two. “(Y/N),” Jaemin is about to confess something he never thought he’d admit. He turns to you sitting in the middle seat with just your panties on and a curious look on your face.

His heart burns and despite being so incredibly aroused, he controls his urges enough to be able to say, “I’m into you.”

“I know you’re into me, that’s how we ended up like this in the first place.” You giggle cluelessly to his words, still not understanding the odd shift in mood and intentions. It’s always his unclear, messy intentions.

Though he can’t entirely figure out his puzzle pieces, he has plenty to connect the dots. “I like you. I want to be in a relationship with you and call you my girlfriend.”

You’re stunned. Did Jaemin just confess to you as you sit in your panties ready to fuck? This softness is different from the sides you’ve seen of him. It’s similar to a lost bunny, wandering grasslands to find a purpose. He looks so fragile, one intense stare and he’d crumble. This softness is vulnerability.

“So do it.” The boldness catches him off guard, but switches on the dominance in him. “If you want me, come show it.”

He climbs over the middle console to push you into the leather seats. “Not acting shy anymore, are you?” Practically ripping your shirt off of you, he cups your breast lightly and flicks at your nipples. Your immediate reaction results in a rush of wetness down your core.

“Before I forget,” sitting up, you share a passionate kiss that you’ve held back long enough. You give it every ounce of feeling you have for him. “If it isn’t obvious enough, I like you too.”

“It’s obvious, baby.” Kissing your nose, he wraps a hand around your throat to lightly push you back down. “But hearing you say it out loud makes me happy.” Jaemin smirks, hand still choking you gently and pampering your jawline with soft kisses.

His free hand reaches down into your dripping panties, circling your clit with your wetness. The sensation causes you to whimper for more. “Daddy, give it to me.” You wiggle in his palm, knowing that the nickname is more than effective.

“My sweet (Y/N) wants to get fucked?” Jaemin rolls your underwear off and rids himself of his own bottoms.

“Yes, please.” Through the darkness, his hard dick stands proudly. Jaemin lines himself up as he thrusts into you without another second of hesitation. He waits for you to adjust to his size, his tip barely grazing your sweet spot. “Fuck…”

“You take me so well, my pretty baby.” Jaemin starts moving his hips, slowly at first to build a rhythm. Taking your legs, he presses them into your chest to fuck you at a deeper angle. And you feel him practically in your guts, his cock pumping against your walls deliciously and bumping into your g-spot. “Do you want more of me?”

Your train of thought is in utter shambles and whatever Jaemin is saying to you barely processes. You’re overwhelmed by a pleasure that fills every system, every part of your body. To answer him, you let out an incoherent noise of approval.

Jaemin pulls your hips down while thrusting forward into you, maximizing every inch of his strokes. This single action causes you to scream and grip onto the headrest. “Who knew my sweet girl could be so fucking dirty?” Jaemin chuckles darkly, his cadence dropping several decibels. “When I first met you, I wanted to ruin you.”

All of his filthy words edge you closer to your release as he continues to repeat his previous motion. He holds your hips in place to grind into you, the feeling of his tip rubbing your walls has your eyes rolling back. “Do you want to cum, (Y/N)?”

“Yes!” You yell, the tight ball in your lower abdomen is bound to break any minute. “I want to cum so badly, please.” You beg and moan, the arch in your back lifts you from the seat of the car. Jaemin snaps his hips into you, drilling you quickly to reach your high. And you break. An euphoric cry fills the air as your walls clench around his length. You hear the extra wetness create a slick noise, but Jaemin isn’t done with you yet.

“You wanted to cum so fucking badly. I’ll reward you with one more for being such a good girl for me.” His thumb flicks at your clit and you convulse into spasms from the sensitivity. Your violently shaking legs can’t hold themselves up anymore and Jaemin rests them on his shoulders. He lines kisses along your ankle as the pleasure overtakes you.

“I don’t think I can do it.” You whine, your fingers twisting and toes curling.

“You are going to try, okay baby?” He coos, but it’s most definitely a demand. He sits back on his knees to pick up more speed, fucking endlessly into your swollen pussy and thumb rubbing fast strips against your bud.

“I’m going to snap, Jaem.” You cry, tears rimming your eyes and before you know it, a second wave hits you. Your second orgasm is ruinous and has you squirming around to regain some sense of control.

“Oh fuck, you’re so beautiful.” Jaemin slows down as your walls grip around him again, tighter this time. “I’m going to fill you up with cum,--- watch it drip out of you.” He grunts while releasing into you, his dick twitching and spraying your insides with white.

He pulls out as hot, white cum spills from your pussy. You take this moment to catch your breath and relax your legs. However, Jaemin coats his two fingers and shoves the cum back into you. “Jaemin!” You exclaim at the sudden intrusion.

He curls them into your plushy walls and finger fucks you into another oblivion. “Wait, again?” Your hands wrap around his wrist, but Jaemin moves too fast for you to catch it.

You’re a moaning mess again, louder than before. Jaemin leans down and flicks his tongue against your overstimulated bundle of nerves. Your back arches automatically and a low animalistic scream rises from your throat.

He observes your body lines underneath the moonlight and the last remaining light the broken street lamps have to offer. Your face contours and you’re so far out into ecstasy that you don’t notice how intensely Jaemin watches you lose yourself.

“It feels too good!” With one last thrilling orgasm, you almost pass out and you see small stars of dizziness. He soaks up every last bit of your cathartic reaction and festers a small sense of pride that he can make you feel all this pleasure.

“Such a good girl. You’re beyond impressive, baby.” Jaemin pulls his fingers out to lick them clean and finds some wipes to help you out of your sticky situation.

“Now that you’re my girlfriend, can we cuddle at any time now? Not just as after care.” He peers up at you and the one word enacts a burning warmth to spread across your chest. That is the best nickname he can call you by.

“I think the Singles Girls Only house event is still going on, but after that, yes a million times.” You laugh and wrap your arms around him into a big loving hug.

Jaemin feels right at home. All the long years of living carelessly and wild, he’s finally found someone worth the extra mile. While Jaemin was a thriving adventure to be explored, you were his comfort to run back to.

It is through the intimacy of your backseat chronicles that Jaemin was able to fall deeper for you. You’re his lucky charm, for some reason, he always feels better around you.

#neosmutcollective #neowritingsnet #nct-writers #kpopscape #neothestars #nct scenarios #nct smut #jaemin #nct #jaemin smut #jaemin scenarios #na jaemin #nct dream #nct dream scenarios #nct dream smut #nct imagines #nct dream series #ridinclub

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bangtangalicious · 3 years

Note

what would fmf!jk do if oc didn’t listen to jk and actually dated someone and ended up falling in love, how far would jk go to get her back?

so lets say you fall in love with taehyung bc he’s such a sweetheart in this. i hope you like this anon <3

tw: jealousy, possessive behavior, toxic fuckboy mentalities, fuckboy!jungkook, manipulation, implied smut, angst (sorry lmaoooo), heartbreak, selfpity, sabotage, poor taehyung rip, implied slut shaming (this part of the fuck me forever au)

weeks after hearing the news that you and taehyung were actually now dating, jungkook would find himself at the bar every night, drinking away the pain and throwing himself at others. he’d fuck two or three people a night, but his mind was always full of you. he was sick of you. no. he missed you.

he’d see you and taehyung around campus being all cute together. taehyung kissing your forehead, making you laugh, holding you in his arms the way jungkook used to

he’d sweat it off at the gym, pounding into the punching bag like there was no tomorrow. he couldn’t sit around and let you slip away from him. not any longer.

he’d hit you up, hellbent on doing whatever he needed to sabotage your relationship before he loses you for good. he’d text you asking to meet, showing up at your place when taehyungs not around. he’d want to try to drive a wedge between the two of you

he knew youd tell taehyung youd been spending time with him. he wanted you to. because he knew taehyung would advise you not to see him. to cut him out of your life.

and that was the key. jungkook would start putting the idea in your head that taehyung himself was overly possessive, not wanting you to spend time with your own best friend—how ridiculous !

jungkook knew all your deepest insecurities, and would exploit them to the fullest in order to to make you doubt taehyung’s commitment to you.

he'd point out whenever other girls would talk to him. whenever taehyung would say he was too busy to see you. it would become the bane of his existence, making sure to catch taehyung slipping whenever he possibly could. he'd fill your head with wrong notions, reminding you all the reasons you felt you were undeserving of someone loving you.

then he'd recommend breaking up with him.

in the meantime he'd go around telling all your mutual friends that you still sleep with him even though you claim to be dating taehyung

taehyung may not believe it, but everyone else does.

eventually they would start judging taehyung for being complacent or naive. saying that you’re taking advantage of him and getting away with cheating on him because you’re just that hot

despite how hard taehyung tries, it would eventually get to his head. he would blow up at you accidentally one day and you would start to think that maybe jungkook was right about taehyung being possessive. you weren't used to being in a relationship either. so you’d dump him then and there

jungkook would be overjoyed when you tell him, calling him in a mess of tears. he'd come over right away and take full advantage of your heartbreak & vulnerability. hold you tight. be the friend you knew and loved. the one you needed.

sssh baby its okay. im here now aren’t i? everything will be okay. i got you.

you’d realize just how close he is, your lips would draw into him like a magnet. he’d make sure you kissed him first.

you’d want to give him everything, let him take complete control so that you could feel numb.

let me take away the pain baby. i can make it all go away. let me treat you right.

jungkook would then begin to fuck you sweetly. with care. getting into your emotional mind. filling you with love & adoration. making you feel wanted. making you feel beautiful.

he has no idea what he’s missing out on. you’re a fucking goddess y/n. you’re the hottest girl in the entire world. you drive me crazy.

you realize that no matter how hard you tried to deny it you still had feelings for jungkook. you always would.

this would overwhelm jungkook. he loves you too. but he’s afraid. afraid he’ll mess up and you’ll leave him. afraid that you’ll hurt him, get bored of him before he gets bored of you. he likes having to chase you. he likes the freedom of having you only when he’d like. he can’t be tied down, he can’t! its suffocating to think about. he doesn’t want what you and taehyung had.

he'd panic internally, but decide to entertain your feelings for the night if it would keep you this eager to please him and let him rail you repeatedly, all night long. however he wants.

god im fucking in love with you baby. i love you so much

as he would push his cock deep inside you. he’d promise you love. friendship. the knowing comfort that you’d never ever be alone—you always had him. he was yours as long as you were his.

you’re mine. all mine. don’t ever let anyone touch you again except me. im the only one. tell me im the only one. show me how much you need me.

he would fuck you over. and over. and over again. lips glued to one another. never parting as he pumped you full of his cum until you couldn’t even move.

such a good fucking girl. so perfect for me. wanna fuck you just like this for the rest of my life

in the morning taehyung would show up begging for you to give him another chance. jungkook would answer the door in nothing but his boxers, telling taehyung everything he needed to know.

once he would leave jungkook would grab your phone and block taehyungs number. he didn’t want to risk the two of you communicating and fixing your relationship.

he’d lie down, thinking about his actions as he watches you sleep. he couldn’t do it. he just couldn’t do it. he’d blink back tears of frustration, hating himself more for stealing something good from you—his best friend—for his own selfish needs.

he wasn’t good enough for you. you deserved better. he recalled with a pang in his heart all the promises he made made while making love to you for so long last night. he was rotten, and he knew it.

so when you you woke up.

he was gone.

a/n: basically he’d manage to get you back but then he would leave bc. he’s an asshole. IM SORRY HAAHAHA. theres a happy ending in the works ok dw.

#jungkook scenarios #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #fuckboy!jungkook #jealous!jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts scenarios #fuck me forever extras

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hansolmates · 4 years

Text

a hero’s journey (m)

summary; jungkook and jisoo are the mightiest power couple. however, one drunken confession and that whole facade fades in an instant. you realize that maybe you need to break from your unvaried life for a bit and be the hero of your own love story pairing; jungkook x editor!reader (f) genre/warnings; best friend’s boyfriend au, slice of life, angst with a happy ending because im weak, pining pINING, everyone’s kind of a mess in their own sweet special way, alcohol use, mentions of ze weed, toxic relationships, mean friends, sex—slight dom!kook, food play, fingering, squirting, heavy use of the petname “pretty girl” bc im weak, strength kink, manhandling (oop!) w.c; 22.2k a/n; woof! my first fic for @goldenclosetnetwork 23 | jungkook’s birthday project! this goes out to all the closet romantics *ahem me cough* who doesn’t love pining between a cutie koo? a huge thank u for vivi @eerieedits for making this bbbBEAUTIFUL fic banner!

prompt used: “I should’ve known.”

if you like this fic pls consider giving a like n’share🥺💜🥺💜

It’s so easy to ignore the world.

Maybe it’s a young-adult thing, but it gets difficult fitting into the 9-to-5 and playing to satisfy bosses that don’t entirely understand your work ethic. Maybe it’s out of complacency, or fear. But you prefer to let the world flow around you and when you’re needed, you’ll act. You’ve reached that point in your life where you enjoy the little things, satisfied by an extra hour of overtime tacked onto your paycheck, a new fabric softener, or finding the perfectly squishy yoga mat.

You’ve finally started feeling comfortable in your shoes, uncaring as to whether you’re single or drowning in college debt, happy to live a relatively stable life. You’re grateful. There’s nothing more than you need than your happiness, and the love of your friends and family.

Namely, your best friend from college. Jisoo always joked about how you two “won the lottery” as dorm rooms in freshman year were determined by lottery. Pulling numbers 883 and 884, you and Jisoo snagged a corner spot of the dormitory, leaving you two utterly cramped but utterly close as the years went by. Six years later and it’s still the case, the two of you have grown into talented working ladies. While you may not be able to spend time with each other the same way you did in school, you still care for each other.

So when Jisoo shows up teary with a rumpled dress shirt and her hair waterfalling out of this morning’s bun, you break out the good alcohol and season three of Jane the Virgin for her.

After the liquid is warm in your cheeks and you’ve fawned enough over Micheal and Rafael’s love triangle, you let Jisoo ramble.

Jisoo has downed a whole bottle of soju on her own, while you’ve decided to have a tasteful glass of wine. You’d rather be tired wine drunk than wasted on soju.

“Jungkook and I had a fight,” she warbles, stuffing a handful of popcorn in her mouth, “it was totally stupid.”

Your eyes flash, picturing Jisoo and Jungkook in quarrel. They’re the epitome of an Instagram-worthy couple, beautiful and deathly charming to a fault. They show nothing but kindness and sweetness to you whenever you third-wheel, not a lick of anger between them when you’re all together.

So a fight is something surprising. Jisoo and Jungkook, J-squared are a power couple. Saying their names next to each other just emits a sort of energy you can only akin to famous small screen couples like Troy and Gabriella or Cory and Topanga. Jisoo’s Instagram is belly full with sweet selfies of them together, the doe-eyed man always looking completely sweet and gentle to the woman in his arms.

You never piqued Jungkook as the type of guy who would pick a “stupid fight.” And you know Jungkook pretty well.

Maybe a little too well.

“He surprised me during my lunch break and he caught me talking to Doyoung and he thought I was flirting,” Jisoo is practically eating her sweater, her head falling between her flannel pyjama sleeves.

“Doyoung, as in your ex Doyoung?” you raise a brow.

She groans, glaring at you in earnest. “Not you, too! I told him it was ridiculous to get jealous, and then I told him how jealous I get when he’s around girls and I don’t need to tell him that,” she rolls her eyes, twisting her feet petulantly in her fuzzy socks, “but then you know what he says back?”

You wince, swirling your wine glass, “That you’re crazy?”

“That I’m crazy, exactly! How did you—” her bloodshot eyes zero in on you, where you’ve tucked yourself in the corner of the couch. You swirl the ruby liquid in your cup, watching the feet web around the cheap crystal, “you think I’m crazy too, don’t you?”

You swallow your sigh, taking your time to finish your liquid in languid sips. Uneasy, you wish you could just sink through the couch in order to avoid this conversation. Jisoo’s heart is generally in the right direction, but in terms of emotions she has the kind of sensitivity that you prefer to ignore rather than tread. Jungkook is also equally emotional, but in a different way. He wears his heart on his sleeve, preferring to keep things straight as opposed to bottling it up like Jisoo.

However the theoretic bottle has reached it’s brim and Jisoo’s tipping, fast.

“I need to tell you something,” Jisoo is swerving, crawling like an infant on wobbly limbs to reach your corner of the couch. You almost stop her, tell her you can continue this conversation in the morning, it’s what you normally do when she drinks into a stupor. But tears are swimming in her glassy caramel eyes and she’s grappling onto your blanket, resting her head in her lap.

Her glossy russet strands curtain her head, so you don’t see the expression on her face when she says her next words:

“Jungkook told me he liked you senior year, and I told him you weren’t interested so I’d have a chance.”

Wow. So that explains everything.

The memories that you’ve tried so hard to brush away, the feelings you’ve tried so hard and continue to try to suppress, are laid out in front of you on a rusted platter. You could laugh, you could fling the rest of the Pinot Grigio down your throat like fresh water on a hot day and call it a night.

But instead you choke back your tears, and push her off because you’re hurt.

Deep down you know you would’ve been less upset if she told you the week after Jisoo and Jungkook called it official. If you knew from the beginning, it would’ve been easier on your heart. But it's been over two years since the past, thinking you’ve been needlessly, stupidly, delusional in thinking that you could’ve possibly had a chance with Jungkook.

Because it could’ve been you. And the reason why Jisoo and Jungkook fought today? Now you know it’s because deep down, they know they’re each other’s second choice.

You can’t even recall a time where Jungkook and Jisoo were together alone before they suddenly started dating, remembering how it used to be you and Jungkook before Jisoo found him one day in your shared apartment, utterly smitten. And now you know you weren’t delusional, because the feelings and the signals you two were exchanging in senior year was real.

But it doesn’t stop the fact that over two years have passed. Two years of a serious relationship between Jisoo and Jungkook, and two years of you secretly loving him from an arm’s length.

“You hate me,” Jisoo removes herself from you, voice trembling. The quick, dark part of your mind wants you to snap back of course I hate you. You’ve trusted Jisoo with your life all these years, she was the reason you got through college so gracefully, why you enjoyed the past seven years of your life.

But the sentiment is stained, and all you can do is deliver a tired smile and stand up. “I don’t hate you,” you say, “I’m just, really overwhelmed. I can’t lie and say that I’m not hurt,” your fingers clutch the fake crystal in your grasp, and for once you’re thankful you’re not strong enough to break it, “but you two love each other now and there’s no point in dwelling in the ‘what-ifs’.”

Now that you think about it, when was the last time Jisoo treated you like a best friend? You stare at your wine glass, thinking that the only time comfort is provided in this apartment is when Jisoo is upset, never when you’re upset.

Jisoo bobs her head senselessly, agreeing to every word. It’s pathetic, seeing her on her knees and her eyes glimmering with the hope that you’d forgive her straightaway. She must feel awful. That’s good.

You sigh, needing to be the bigger person. “You need to call Jungkook and tell him he has nothing to worry about though, after all, you two have history now. As much, if not more than Doyoung.”

“Right,” she replies, biting her lip. It suddenly feels like you're talking to a wall, carrying a conversation that's long ended.

“As for us,” you have half a mind to slam your glass on the counter, but instead you give it a heavy hand, letting slowly thump to the coffee table, “I don’t think I want to see you two, for a while.”

“Understandable.”

“And I don’t want to help you move out anymore,” I just want you gone.

“Right,” she whispers. The both of you will be completed with your lease in two months, and Jisoo and Jungkook have decided to move into Jungkook’s apartment. As for you, you haven’t decided as to whether you want to go through the whole process of moving out or looking for a new roommate.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so fucking sorry. I just was insecure as fuck in college and Jungkook was the first person I met in a long time that helped me feel more… like me.”

You want to say that she's right, she’s selfish. Her excuses aren’t palpable anymore. It’s too late. But if you were in Jisoo’s shoes, you’d think this apology is mere crumbs in comparison to your friendship. Why isn't she trying harder? Maybe because she doesn't know any better. After all, you never told her what you felt for him has morphed into love.

You don’t even have to ask as to whether she’ll tell Jungkook this or not, you now know honesty is not her style.

Jisoo doesn’t get a goodnight and a drunken kiss on the forehead like she usually does whenever you two have your late night talks. Instead, she seals herself to her own demise as you slam the door to your bedroom, effectively shutting each other out.

Work is a bitch the following morning. You’re like molasses, rolling out of bed despite the whole world and its mother telling you to go back to sleep.

Your feet are killing you as you make your walk to work, deciding to wear a pair of red-backed heels so you can stomp your way through your day.

Your Wusband (Work-Husband) Kim Namjoon matches you step-for-step, eyes glued to his phone as he catches you on the sidewalk. “Woman on a mission,” he comments absentmindedly, eyes glued to his phone as he follows the click of your shoes to your favorite cafe.

You spare a glance to your right hand-man, eyeing him appreciatively at his dedication to your morning routine. He’s your favorite co-worker, one who keeps you on time to your meetings and keeps you sane when you want to pull your hair out and dig out a coffin in your little cubicle. Namjoon’s long legs always seem to catch up with you during your workweek, whether it’s to get coffee in the morning or to talk shit about the latest gossip in the breakroom.

The bell of the glass door tinkles in your ears as you enter the café, relatively busy for the morning rush. While you wait in line, Namjoon ticks off your activity list for today.

“Meeting with Victoria is cancelled this morning,” you groan in relief, your supervisor Victoria always scares the shit out of you even when she’s not doing anything, “and just the usual proofing and whatever we have to do on the third floor today—can I get a large iced Americano with a pump of caramel? Thanks,” Namjoon moves aside so you can throw your order in as well, “and after work could you stop by Vernon’s? He took a sick day today and he has most of the manuscripts for the next issue.”

“Done and done,” you swipe your card in the dip, tucking your card away in your zippered pouch. “So like, do Americanos taste any good? Like it’s literally watered down espresso how do you pay to drink watered down tar—”

Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter. Jungkook’s at the pick-up counter swirling stray sugar crystals with his thumb and putting them in his napkin. What an impeccable display of Virgo energy, absentmindedly cleaning things he has no business doing. You scoff to yourself, recalling this morning that Jisoo got off the phone this morning with a stupid smile on her face. From the mirror image that Jungkook is excluding while he’s smiling on his cellphone like a smitten teenager, it seems like they’ve made up.

Nevertheless the hurt from last night is still fresh in your bones, and you force yourself to look away despite the fact that your morning pick-me-ups are almost done and are sitting tauntingly next to Jungkook’s elbow. Does he really need to learn against the counter like he owns it? Hair slightly damp from the shower, your heart beats a little faster at the fresh image.His biceps are straining against his charcoal lycra long sleeve, which is slightly damp from his morning run. Snap out of it! You are a mature, working woman who does not swoon in the view of bulgy muscles, especially when the man who owns those muscles is taken. Suddenly there’s a call of your name, and two cups and a paper bag are put in front of Jungkook.

He blinks, and you immediately pale when you see his eyes flit over your name surrounded by your favorite coral pink beverage. You feel struck as his head perks up at the name and he narrowly makes eye-contact—

“The fuck you’re doing,” Namjoon gripes, shoving your guava iced tea and croissant in your chest, “standing there like a moron as if we don’t got shit to do today.”

“Sorry,” you mumble, pulling at the brown paper bag to tug a piece of croissant between your teeth. The warmth, buttery pastry melts in your tastebuds. Ah, bread. Nothing like a little bit of carb to make you feel better.

You’re suddenly thankful for Namjoon’s gargantuan torso from effectively blocking you from Jungkook, hauling you out of the coffee shop like a petulant toddler. He doesn’t even give you a chance to catch another secret look at the object of your affections, making sure you’re back in your work game before you enter the building. Even if he doesn’t know it, Kim Namjoon’s always got your back.

Or in today’s case, breathing down your back.

Without your third editor and a hard deadline coming up by the end of the week, you and Namjoon are working in tandem throughout your 9-5 to complete drafts for Big Hit Publishings Arts & Media section. Both of you take turns to bring snacks and feed each other, feeling like reading zombies and slaves to your desk as you remind each other to breathe throughout the whole ordeal.

In complete honesty you don’t totally mind. Namjoon is a great partner-in-crime, and you both love what you do and do a damn good job at it. You call it “Buzzfeed but with Benefits.”

And at least for today, you could quell the feelings in your chest from last night and this morning. Sure, you’ve always been okay with the pining you’ve had for Jungkook. The feeling comes and goes whenever it pleases, and since yesterday you’ve been okay with just admiring from afar and being their third wheel.

However, now the feelings are acutely comparable to a third-degree burn with the help of Jisoo playing with fire.

With a quiet exhale, you concede in your gaming chair (because it’s just so damn comfy to keep in the office.) You’re an adult and not a petty child, and you will not let this piece of information derail you from your calm, stable lifestyle.

But honestly? Fuck Jisoo.

“Let’s go, buckaroo,” Namjoon logs off for you, the cinnamon-y smell of his shampoo effectively waking up your senses, “it’s already 5:30. And you said you’d stop by Vern’s to get his drafts.”

“Right,” you blurt, mindlessly putting away your papers and snack wrappers in your bag. You can’t believe the whole day’s gone already.

“Maybe you don’t even have to go to his apartment. Just text him or whatever.”

“Sounds good, thanks Joonie.”

“And y/n?” Namjoon gives you a look that causes you to force a terse smile, one you give one too many times to higher-ups at work. It isn’t to insult Namjoon by any means, but you guys are partners, the kind that tell way too much but hide just enough to remain close from afar. “Take it easy, will you?”

“I will,” you concede, stretching your arms, “I’m def overdue for a massage.”

“You don’t look sick,” you scoff, taking in the casual look your co-editor boasts as he leans casually against the doorway.

Hansol Vernon Chwe is the epitome of fluffy, decked out in large electric blue sweats and his russet brown hair curling softly above his porcelain skin. Not only is he your co-editor, but also a friend from college. Not to the extent that you were with Jisoo and Jungkook, but you operated in the same publishing club and managed to get partnering internships that made you the co-workers you are today. You see a little bit of that collegiate youth in Vernon right now, as he looks well-rested and fresh faced despite the fact he probably didn’t apply moisturizer or drink enough water today.

“But you kinda do,” he tilts his head, noting the heels that adorn your feet, “you’re wearing your sexy shoes today, that means something’s going on.”

“Gee, ever the ladies’ man,” you scoff, getting under his arm to invite yourself inside, “all I want is the completed interviews so we can pick out the best parts and draft them. Then I’ll be on my merry way.”

“Oh c’mon, we’ve been talking nothing but work this whole damn month. What happened to college when we’d talk hours about House Hunters, the safeness of library sex, that little furry thing in Lincoln Hall’s urinal? That was prime conversation.”

“Vern, I’m just here for the drafts,” you sit at his tiny kitchen table, glaring at his open laptop.

“You could’ve just emailed me,” he teases, twisting around his chair so he can rest his arms against the back. “But since you’re here, that means you probably wanna spill some tea but you’re too upset to admit it.”

“If I talk will you stop talking like that?”

“Yes. Give me the juicy details. Need some juicy juice.”

“Nevermind, get out of my apartment.”

“Uh, this is my apartment.”

“My point still stands,” you make another face at his outfit, “you look like the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.”

Vernon purses his lips, scooting his chair closer to yours. He’s unfazed by your insult, far used to your defenses being higher up than Fort Knox. He looks up at you with his pretty lashes and deceivingly sweet caramel eyes, leaning his head along the backrest. “C’mon, tell me what’s bothering you,” he says in a gentle tone, coaxing you open.

He always knew how to do it for you, a little bit of sweet talking and that clear open gaze always reduced you to shreds in university. For him, it always took a good meal and some sci-fi movies to get him to talk. That must be why you’ve stayed friends for so long, you two knew how to connect.

Finally you crack, kicking off your shoes and hoping the sharp end doesn’t land on his cat. You hear Luna meow in protest but she’s got great reflexes. Unbuttoning the first three buttons of your stuffy blazer, you air out your cleavage, not caring about Vernon’s gaze. He’s seen worse.

“Remember Jeon Jungkook? Majored in graphic design.”

“Ah, yeah. The guy who like, lived at the gym and the dining hall? Haven’t seen him in a minute,” his eyes seem to glaze over the glory days, reminiscing in the simultaneous safetynet and stressor that made up your early twenties, “didn’t you guys hit it off real well? Like I remember you ditched like—three sci-fi nights to study with him. Who even studies at 1AM?”

“Yeah, we did,” and you can’t help but frown at as you remember the 7-Eleven runs, the utter warmth you felt when he would wipe a stray rice grain off your cheek, and how happy you felt to laugh so much with him it hurt, “but uh. Jisoo got drunk last night, because they had a fight. And she sort of admitted to me that she sabotaged our relationship and told Jungkook I wasn’t interested in him so they could start dating. Two years later and here we are.”

A pause. And then, “Want a beer?”

Vernon doesn’t even wait for a response when he gets up, bare feet slapping against the tile as he prepares some drinks and snacks for you.

“That’s pretty fucked up,” he practically sing-songs among the cacophony of popcorn pop-pop-popping in the microwave. The aroma of buttery kernels is all but a relief, reminding you of movie matinees, “and like, she knew you liked him! It was totally obvious, even if you didn’t spell it out for her.”

“Yeah,” you practically gushed to Jisoo those past two months, every waking moment with heart-eyes over the talented graphic designer Jeon Jungkook.

“I can’t believe Jisoo would keep that a secret from you for so long. Like, can you even trust her anymore?”

“Don’t know, was she even my bestfriend or was I just a good roommate to her?” you ask. Vernon is holding two beers in one hand and a bag of popcorn by the tips of his fingers in the other, careful to not burn himself. Opening the beer for you, you thank him and take a long swig.

“Well, good thing you’re still not in love with him or whatever. That would really suck. Unless—”

The look on your face says it all. You’re practically snotting into your bottle, your face tucked into your chin as you fight hard to stop the tears you’ve been suppressing for the last two years. “Don’t give me your pity,” you garble, turning away from the sad look Vernon gives you as he wraps his arms around you.

The tears are soft and gentle, flowing freely onto the cotton of Vernon’s arms as you let it out.

“‘M’not,” he concedes, rubbing his chin into your neck. He really is a lot like Luna, just like his cat ready to give you affection. “Let’s just, get some take-out and watch Hamilton or something.”

He lets you wear his matching sweat suit, lime green, as you order Thai food and rap along to Hamilton’s sick beats. Vernon does a better job keeping the flow, but you’re having a good time being his hype man as he parades around the living room like it’s 1776.

You go home that night around ten o’clock, feeling noticeably lighter and more relaxed. Be that it may you are still wearing the sweatpants and heels ensemble, you feel comforted.

The apartment is quiet when you walk in, not a single light turned on. You get a slice of the city lights bleeding in from the organza curtains, which allow you to kick off your heels and hobble to where you think the kitchen counter is.

Today is Jisoo’s day to cook dinner. You can tell she decided to cook today from the faint smell of Japanese curry and a small unwashed plate in the sink. Whenever it was someone’s turn, they usually left an extra bowl or serving in it for the other roommate when they got home. Unsurprisingly, you find no such thing on the counter or in the fridge.

You’re not upset, but rather decided. If Jisoo is going to let your friendship fade off with no intention of redeeming herself, then you should give her the same amount of energy back. You realize now the apology she gave last night wasn’t for you, but empty words to make her feel better and mend whatever toxicity she’s created in her own relationships. People like Namjoon and Vernon reminded you that you didn’t need to try and earn other people’s friendships.

It’s disappointing, but the feeling is all but too familiar.

If you could describe Jisoo as anything, it would be the color pink. Blushing, beautiful, beguiling pink. The way she flushes when Jungkook does an uncalled for grandiose gesture of romance, or when she wears a hot magenta number when she’s hosting a fashion show. Jisoo is the personification of La vie en rose, unbothered and unabashed.

But now all you see when you think of Jisoo? Nothing but red.

With that, you go in your room and untack the polaroid of you and Jisoo at the carnival last month, putting it away in your junk drawer to be forgotten.

“You’re running away.”

“Am not.”

“Are too,” that interjection comes from Vernon’s roommate, Jung Hoseok. He’s been watching you two bicker over work for the past hour while he plays GTA5, failing to get a good hard carry because you and Vernon are too busy discussing whatever finishing touches you need on your final draft.

“No one asked for your opinion, Jung,” you throw over your shoulder.

“I’m just saying,” Hoseok flicks his wrist and nabs a tank, “you never wanna go home, you eat all our food, and I found your pyjamas in my laundry basket.”

“You said your basket was the blue one,” you hiss under your breath.

“The navy blue one,” Vernon chirps unhelpfully, “not the electric blue one.”

Hoseok hits “save” on his campaign, disconnecting from his PS4 and stretching his lean limbs. “I mean, we could use a third roommate,” Hoseok jokes, getting up from the couch and grabbing a handful of M&Ms from your bowl, “you do make a bomb mac n’cheese.”

“Appreciated,” you relent when Hoseok presses a kiss to your cheek and tells Vernon he’ll be back late working, leaving you and Vernon alone in their shared apartment. When Hoseok is gone, you stare at the door, tilting your head, “y’know,” you remark, “Hoseok’s a cool guy, why did I never hang out with him in college?”

“Because he was stoned the majority of senior year and you just didn’t vibe with that crowd.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“But, you’re trying to change the subject,” Vernon carefully untacks your hands from your keyboard, knowing that you two have already been done with this month's issue and you’re now just mindlessly re-reading emails. “You’ve been here since Thursday, and now it’s Saturday. And as much as Hoseok and I like having you around so you can wake me up before we go to work, it’d be nice to throw me a bone and let me in on what you’re thinking right now.”

You frown, noting Vernon’s large hand covering your laptop closed. He isn’t going to remove his hand anytime soon unless you talk. “Jungkook’s helping Jisoo pack up her half of the apartment this weekend and I don’t want to be there,” you say, short and simple.

“You miss her?”

“Yeah,” you admit honestly. You hate this version of yourself, unable to even look at Jisoo nowadays despite the fact you’re under the same roof for the remainder of the month. It’s hard to believe that the roommate from six years ago finally got under your skin, cancelling out all the years of friendship because of one silly relationship, “sad she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.”

“Did you talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you reply despondently, “if she cared at all she would’ve to apologize again by now.”

Vernon figures, and his neutral expression doesn’t change as he leads you to the couch, brushing away Hoseok’s things so you two can get comfy. You busy yourself with the remote, exiting the PS4 homepage to scroll Netflix.

“And are you trying to get over him?”

“I mean, yeah,” you have been, but it’s a little hard when you’ve been contentedly pining. It was easy to keep your feelings bottled up because you originally thought Jisoo and Jungkook were meant to be for each other for the past two years. Now you're still pining but ruefully bitter at Jisoo.

“It’s not fair, y’know. She broke girl code, bros before hoes. Or is it chicks before dicks?” Vernon shakes his head at his lame attempt to get you to smile, which works anyway because Vernon’s silly and his sense of humor always gets you a little loose. “It’s your house too, you shouldn’t feel like you don’t belong there.”

“Well I was supposed to help her move out this weekend, and I’d prefer it if Jungkook didn’t know what was going on.”

“What?” your friend furrows his thick brows together, tucking his hands under his knees as he leans into your stubborn expression. “You’re gonna let Jungkook go on with his life not knowing that his relationship is based on a lie. That’s not cool. Even if you’re into him, he’s still your friend.”

Damn, when did Vernon get so good at giving advice? Truth is Vernon’s always been good at dishing advice, you’ve just been privy to what you wanted to reveal to him. The first year or so being together outside of college was always about work, saving each other’s asses to ensure you two got that promotion and aim higher and higher. Now that goal is out of the way, and what better way to reconnect over some shoddy romance straight out of a Degrassi special?

“I know,” you hug your knees tight to your chest, “when I’m ready, okay?”

“Okay,” he agrees, because he’s not a pusher, “do you know the best way to get over someone?”

“What?”

“The best way to get over someone, is to get under someone," he emphasizes that point with his hands, sliding one under the other with a wiggle of his thick brows.

You slap him on the shoulder, “Vern, you disgust me.”

“But it works!”

“I’m not going on Tinder to find a fuckbuddy.”

“You don’t have to look on Tinder or Tumble.”

“Bumble.”

“Whatever,” and his eyes flicker to his lap, where his pale fingertips turn red as he grips the edge of a throw pillow. "If you really don't wanna find someone, I can help."

Is Vernon offering himself up? He is offering to fuck your brains out in the hope that you could inevitably fuck out your interest in Jungkook? Your eyes flicker over to Vernon's form on the couch, who's tucked in the couch just as you are.

It’s true that you find Vernon attractive, and to some extent he definitely finds you attractive as well otherwise he wouldn’t have suggested the idea. It’s just that in college you never viewed him in that kind of light, probably because you were always so caught up in Jungkook. But tonight you can’t seem to ignore the eagerness hidden in Vernon’s carmine gaze, and how shiny and touchable his chocolate locks look under the setting sun.

“I don’t want our friendship to change,” you reply slowly, furrowing your brows. “I appreciate it, but I don’t know. It sounds like a temporary fix.”

“Can’t knock it if you don’t try it,” and out of curiosity, you don’t shy away when Vernon leans over to you, squeezing himself between the couch so he can tuck you in his arms. “I want to help you, but only if you want to.”

Maybe it’s the frustration you feel with Jisoo, Jungkook’s ignorance, or the fact that you haven’t felt physical pleasure in such a long time, but you soften into Vernon’s hold. He’s relaxed, nothing betraying him as he waits patiently for your answer. You’ve always admired how much he kept up his “cool as a cucumber” demeanor. He isn’t the type of guy to let life pass him by, but he’s the kind of person who walks along life, embracing the ups and downs like old friends. He’s the ocean waves that crest along the shore, pushing and pulling along without a care in the world.

He’s the textbook opposite of Jeon Jungkook, which is why you give Vernon the okay to lean in and press his lips against yours.

His kisses are soft, and he takes great care in making sure you’re comfortable with this new step in your relationship. It almost feels as if you’re cutting corners, and you can’t help but feel a little guilty that you revel in the way Vernon’s hands trail under your too-large t-shirt.

The pleasure you’ve ached for is there, bubbling low in the pit of your belly. It’s hard to get you out of your mind however, because this man isn’t the one you love. His kisses hold no power, only brief reprieve. Your heart doesn’t palpitate and your palms don’t sweat, you’re just languid.

You’re greedy and selfish, but you remind yourself that it’s okay to allow yourself of these freedoms, even for a little bit. As Vernon finds your sweet spot that has you rolling your hips against his, you find that temporary fix isn’t a bad start at all.

When you trudge back to your apartment that night after much reluctance, your face is still flushed and you think you smell a little too much like Vernon’s cologne. But the fact that still stands is that you're satiated, and you feel a tiny percent closer to moving on.

The television is glowing with a terrible reality TV show, angry brides upset over cake layers or whatever. Jungkook and Jisoo have fallen asleep on the couch, surrounded by half-empty boxes. Jungkook has his arm lazily over Jisoo, her petite body fitting perfectly between his chest and the crook of his neck.

You scoff when you spy Jisoo's bedazzled manicure digging into Jungkook's bicep, as if someone's going to take him away if she doesn't hold tight.

With stiff muscles you spare one look at Jungkook, ignoring the pang in your chest as you weave between boxes to turn the TV off. Barely an iota of your feelings have dissipated since your previous tryst with Vernon not an hour ago. Looking at Jungkook brings it all back, unfortunately. You suppose the feelings will pass with time. The soft hum of the television ceases, and you’re bathed in a room that feels dark and empty, despite the apparent life in the room.

There’s some bleary talk coming from the couch as you walk to your bedroom, and if Jungkook is sleepily mumbling your name in question, you pretend you don’t hear.

“So, where’s y/n? I thought she was going to help us pack.”

It’s an innocent enough question, as Jungkook scans the corner of the living room hallway that leads to the bedrooms. You haven’t come out yet. He knows that you love sleeping in on the weekends, but he hopes the smell of fresh food will coax you to the table. His pan is sizzling in protest, telling Jungkook to quit talking and flip the hashbrowns. He's fried up three, in the hopes you’d be up for some crispy potatoes. He knows how much you love potatoes, especially at 2AM when you’re craving fries and a McFlurry combo.

Instead Jisoo mutters, “You toasted too much bread, you know I don’t eat bread like this,” she’s pulling slice by slice out of the toaster, until there’s a stack of six golden toasts in the middle of the kitchen table.

A little part of him wishes to quell the precursor to the argument there. It would be so easy for Jungkook to say, “the extras are for me” because he’s trying to gain weight, and that would be that.

Instead he continues with his unanswered question and replies honestly, “I made extra toast for y/n, babe. She was supposed to help us pack but I haven’t seen her all weekend.” But he’s pretty sure you came home last night, unless that was his imagination.

Jisoo pulls a carafé of apple juice out of the fridge, pouring the amber liquid into two glass cups. “Ah, she said she had some last minute things to do for work. Y’know, Big Hit always wants a big hit.”

He chuckles, tilting his head as Jisoo gives him a small smile from the kitchen table. Jisoo is always good at cheesy jokes. “She must love her job, huh.”

“Yeah.”

“Her articles are really good, too,” the air smells like butter and Italian seasoning, as he places one hash brown on Jisoo’s plate, and two on his. He knows you edit in the Arts & Media section, and loves how you make it a point to include video games and modern graphics when it’s deemed appropriate. “She did a piece on the evolution of RPG and I thought her commentary was really spot-on.”

He brings breakfast over to the table, while Jisoo places two slices of toast on his plate, one buttered and one with strawberry preserves. Breakfast is a quiet, but peaceful affair. Jungkook takes note of how Jisoo takes extra long to complete her meal, her fork creating ribbons in her little blob of magenta jam. He allows himself to complete his first hashbrown and a slice of toast before asking the difficult question.

“Are you and y/n okay?” and he also takes note when Jisoo’s ministrations on her jelly stop, as she looks up at him with her big brown eyes.

“We’re fine,” she insists, “just normal roommate issues, I promise.”

“Maybe I should text y/n,” Jungkook says, pulling out his phone. “Lemme help you fix this, wouldn’t want you and her in a bad place when you’re about to move out.”

“Baby, why are you so concerned about y/n?” Jisoo croons while his thumb hovers over your contact, his screen showing a two-year old selfie you two took during a study session early on in your friendship. He can’t remember the last time you two took a picture together out of spite, one without Jisoo. Jisoo’s hand pulls him away from his phone, rubbing small circles between his palm.

He wants to ask, why aren’t you? But he sees the terseness in Jisoo’s smile, as her eyes fix between the interlocked fingers. He has a feeling he’s hovering somewhere he isn’t allowed to be in. Maybe it really is roommate stuff and it’s none of his business, but he feels a little insulted being left out because you and Jungkook are just as much best friends as you were in college.

Or are you?

This question plagues him throughout the day, and when Jungkook packs enough boxes for the weekend and says he needs to go home, Jisoo for once doesn’t argue. Normally Jisoo would cling to him like a koala, murmur simultaneously adorable and dirty things in his ear and lead him to her bedroom to coop up for hours on end. But Jisoo says she’s tired and needs some alone time, which is also fine.

He doesn’t feel like going home, and instead heads straight to the gym. A couple pumps wouldn’t hurt, and it would clear his head. It’s nearly five in the evening when his body is thrumming with the afterglow of his post-workout, and he decides to take a little cool down in the mall and treat himself to a smoothie.

It must be kismet when he sees you coming out of the bookstore, looking a little winded but no less professional in your beige blazer set and rose gold iPad. Whenever he hung around your apartment with Jisoo and you’d come home from work, he’d make it a point to acknowledge your plethora of multicolored skirt-suits. He never needs to be professional in his place of work, and admires how much effort you put in.

“Hey!” he jogs up to you, and he catches the way your shoulders jump at his voice. “We missed you today.”

Your smile curls into something dry, and you twist your spine like rusty hinges to face him. In turn, his smile dims a little, wondering if he’s doing something wrong. Maybe you’re tired? He catches the line of sweat that glistens your baby hairs, and how your hair is done up but has fallen a few centimeters with some pieces falling out.

“Jungkook,” you exhale, “lifting boxes wasn’t enough of a workout?”

“You know me,” he replies stiffly, hiking his backpack higher upon his shoulder. Why does this conversation feel so awkward? “So, finishing up work? Sucks you have to work on a Sunday.”

“Ah, it wasn’t so bad,” you face relaxes a little as you explain your work, “it was children’s day at the bookstore and they were watching Disney movies. I’m writing a piece on how I believe Ratatouille is Pixar’s magnum opus. Interviewed some kids, I wanted an expert opinion.”

“Ratatouille is the superior film,” he declares with a firm nod, “after all, anyone can cook.” He revels in the small smile he manages to retrieve from you, immediately understanding the inside joke. If he came out of the gym five minutes earlier, he probably would’ve been able to catch you in the bookstore. What a shame, he would’ve loved to see you play around with the kids.

At the mention of food, the mall manages to silence itself enough for him to catch the grumbling coming from your stomach. He laughs when your cheeks heat.

“I was on my way to get some smoothies,” he jabs a thumb in the direction of the food court, “wanna catch up and get a bite?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I have a lot of work to edit,” disappointment pangs in his chest at your easy rejection, but he ignores it, “I kinda wanna save some money too, still not sure if I’m staying in the apartment after Jisoo moves.”

He doesn’t know what compels him to take your shoulders and wheel you in the direction of the food court, much to your protest and whines. “C’mon, explain to me why Ratatouille is the magnum opus—I need to defend why The Incredibles is superior. I’ll treat you to dinner.”

“What? I can pay for my own food—”

“And I can’t treat my best friend to a nice meal once in a while?”

That has you stopping in your tracks, and Jungkook nearly barrels his chest into your head if not for the grippy soles of his Adidas Ultraboosts. He can’t see your face, but his hands note how your muscles cord tightly between the cotton of your blazer.

He doesn’t understand why you’re so tense. Was it because he called you his best friend? Well, you are? At one point he felt that way, early on in college. The position just stuck with you. And when Jisoo told him you weren’t interested, he was perfectly fine with the platonic relationship. It was nice to have someone to talk media and video games to, someone not as chaotic as Jimin and someone not as deterred as Yoongi.

Although, maybe as of late he hasn’t been so much of a friend. It’s no one’s fault, he’s been caught up with work and Jisoo’s move, he hasn’t said so much as a “hey how are you” when you’re around. He can’t blame you.

Suddenly his mind blanks, the mall fading away as he focuses on how small you look as your eyes dart between the parking lot and the food court. Jisoo and Jungkook have been so caught up on each other lately, that he fears you’re starting to separate yourself.

“Um, this place is good,” you tug him by the elbow and lead him to a fast food joint.

When he picks up both your orders and comes over to your saved table, you’re talking animatedly on the phone. You’re laughing, looking at Jungkook as if he’s the one intruding and you’re muttering a hushed “sorry” as you continue the tail end of the conversation.

“Yes, Joonie. Go with section two, I know my shit. I’m your Work Wife for a reason, Umji in PR could never compare,” you’re giggling like you’re five years younger, and Jungkook feels stuck in a timelapse.

He watches you go, throwing around names and terms that he’s so lost on but so desperate to understand. He knows nothing about your life other than the one that’s tied with Jisoo, which is a damn shame. Since when did he inevitably downgrade you from “best friend” to “his girlfriend’s roommate?”

“I’m sorry,” you turn your phone over and push it to the side, giving Jungkook a smile as well, albeit weaker, “let’s dig in!”

To his relief the dinner goes as good as it should be. You have your tray practically overflowing at the seams, all on Jungkook’s dime. It has his heart swelling with pride, he hasn’t seen you eat in a long time. There’s fries spilling out from the corners, and two sandwiches because you couldn’t decide between a chicken sandwich and a burger.

Food gets you amicable, and he doesn’t mind when he does most of the talking. You’re engrossed in his talk, lettuce hanging out of your mouth as you’re rapt with attention as he recalls a story that happened at work recently with Mingyu. You ask questions in all the right places and he sucks up all your attention like a happy pill, and it feels nice to be able to lead a conversation for once.

“Jeez, I’m getting the burger sweats,” you giggle to yourself, and his smile brightens at your positive change in attitude. Food always helps.

When you remove your thick high-collar blazer, that’s when he sees it.

“Seeing someone?” he asks, eyes flickering curiously towards the violet bruises that bloom across your neck.

“What–oh,” you have the audacity to look embarrassed, hands clutching your neck like a shield, “no, just a hookup.”

A messy hookup, too. Unless you had a thing for showing off marks, which doesn’t seem to be the case. “Didn’t peg you for someone who hooks up,” he says more to himself than you, but you catch him on his impulse jab.

Your eyes narrow and your defenses go up, “I’m trying to get over someone,” you snip back, busying your hands by crushing up your greasy sandwich wrappers.

“Am I allowed to state my opinion?”

“Since you asked so politely, no.”

He sighs, “I just don’t think that’s the best way to get over someone,” heck, Jungkook doesn’t even know who exactly you’re trying to get over. He just knows that you’re far too smart and independent to let yourself resort to such matters.

“It isn’t, but it’s really the best option as of now,” you reply curtly.

And his gaze saddens as he sees you fold your blazer over your arm, indicating that your time is up. Jungkook is aware the comment he made is out of line, and it weakens him knowing that you don’t even want to pick a fight with him. He can’t even find it in himself to apologize properly.

He doesn’t know if he’s more sad that you’re pining over someone unattainable or upset at himself for not knowing you’ve been harboring feelings for someone. If you really think hooking up is your only option, you must be really hung about whoever you’re into as of late.

“If it’s worth anything,” Jungkook adds, wanting to leave on a high note, “fuck that guy. He clearly doesn’t deserve you.”

A small, secret smile plays on your lips, “Yeah, I like to believe that.”

“I’m anxious,” Namjoon’s mantra makes the whole energy in the room wobbly, paired with the fact the two of you are squished between cardboard boxes as Jungkook aimlessly moves things around like a Tetris screen.

The only time you feel remotely comfortable basking in your home is when Jisoo is gone. Oh-so conveniently is the Big Hit building undergoing maintenance today, so you and Namjoon have decided to work from home in your apartment. Although you thought by now that Jisoo’s boxes would be long gone and tucked away in Jungkook’s place, instead you’re living in an episode of Ed, Edd and Eddy and the cardboard is practically wall-to-wall. You also thought by now that Jungkook would have no reason to show up unannounced anymore, but apparently that’s not the case.

“I have, anxiety,” Namjoon adjusts his glasses for the nth time this afternoon, brain not fixed enough to focus on the screen of his chrome MacBook, “anxiety, anxiety. I can’t right now. I need my weighted blanket and a pillow.”

“Namjoon, I can get both of those for you if we just send in this last spread,” you coo gently, as if placating a baby. You make brief eye contact with Jungkook from the other side of the room, his lips quirking in amusement as he stacks a box of clothes by the kitchen.

“Do you feel my palms? My palms, they’re like a fucking fountain you need to feel them—” your Wusband approaches you like a zombie, leaning over you and tripping over his criss-crossed legs before he topples over you.

“Blegh, get off of me you sweat giant!” you cry with a good-natured laugh, although the grip of Namjoon’s palms under your shoulders are damp and slimy, “Joon, I can’t get you your blanket if you’re crushing my boobs.”

Namjoon finally relents, untacking himself to rest his chin on your glass coffee table. “Fine.”

“Look over the last column and I’ll bring your blanket, okay?”

Pushing yourself off the ground, you shuffle your way out of the living room through the maze of boxes and into the hallway. It feels like your apartment is less of an apartment and more of a storage space when you’re trapped in-between two lines of boxes, and Jungkook effectively blocking you from entering your room. He was just in the living room but now he’s come from the linen closet, standing between the entrance of your room.

“Sorry,” he pops his head out from a smaller box, one filled with designer costume jewelry.

“It’s fine,” you chirp, barely making eye contact as you shuffle over the boxes.

Your toe drags over the lid of one of the open boxes in an attempt to move diagonally. You nearly crash your face into the hardwood if not for Jungkook’s arm stretching out to catch you. In seconds he manages to catch all your weight in one hand, pulling you to him with your hip pressed against his. Your breath traps itself in your neck. Your subconscious fears that if you speak now, you’ll babble about how attractive it is that he’s able to catch you as easily as grabbing a light sheet of paper.

“Careful,” his voice rumbles in his throat as he regards you with a wan smile.

Your “thanks” is barely uttered as you slip into your room, heaving your weighted blanket and a pillow in your arms to let Namjoon borrow.

The burgundy quilted fabric is hunched over your shoulder, draped around your body so it’s easier for you to carry on your back. You try to eradicate the memory of Jungkook’s arms, lean and strong as he held you to him moments before.

Ugh, you thought messing around with Vernon would stop your silly pining. It seems that it’ll take more than a couple rounds to satiate your curiosity. For such a kind guy, Jungkook seems like a wolf in sheep’s clothing when it comes to the bedroom.

You can imagine him being so kind in the beginning, coaxing you to wan and bend to his every wish and command. And then when you keen a little too hard at the attention, you bet a switch would flip and he’d grab you—

The blanket flops around your back, and you’re sorely reminded that you’re thirsting over a taken man, yet again.

Jungkook makes it extremely difficult for him to be hateable. It’s by nature that he’s just so damn likeable. Heck, he’s pretty much packed seventy percent of the things Jisoo should be packing right now.

Making sure not to trip again, on your feelings and your blanket, you successfully reach a tired Namjoon. You tuck your koala-shaped pillow under your co-editor’s arms, and drape the heavy blanket over him like a cape. He’s giving you a thumbs up and a toothless smile, the previous meltdown overcome as he focuses on finishing the last of today’s work. He’s slipped on some noise-cancelling earphones, presumably filled with generic coffee-house music or rain playlists.

Wordlessly you go to your nook to prepare some tea. It’s getting late and a warm cup would distract you from the impending deadline. Despite the fact that you and Namjoon are 99% of the way done, his previous freak-out has you on live-wire and you could use a little caffeine.

Placing three mugs on the counter you call, “Jungkook, tea?”

“Yes please,” you stiffen when you feel Jungkook magically appear right behind you, his head peering over your shoulder, “with milk and honey.”

Deciding to give Jungkook the beehive-shaped mug because it’s very on-brand for him, you begin to steep the leaves in your kettle while he spoons the honey.

“So,” his words are slow as the drip of honey, the amber goo taking its time to descend into his mug as it falls from the dipper. “Is that the guy you’re trying to get over?”

Jungkook lifts his brows towards Namjoon, who is softcore jamming to his white noise playlist. It’s cute as to how curious Jungkook is about Namjoon. While you try to keep your work life separate, there really isn’t much backstory to your personal life to warrant that kind of divide.

“Namjoon,” you state aloud, watching Namjoon sing badly to himself, “why, are you gonna beat him up for me?”

“I can take him,” you can practically hear Jungkook’s chest pop out.

With a roll of your eyes, you reach to kill the heat off the tea kettle, “No need. He isn’t the guy I’m trying to get over.”

“Oh, he’s your fuck buddy then?”

“Shit!” being caught off guard, you grab at the handle of your kettle without a pot holder, burning your fingertips. In seconds Jungkook’s larger hand encases your own, pulling you over to the sink to soak your fingers in cool running water.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jungkook is chanting like a sinner at church, searching for any sign of pain in your visage, “I shouldn’t have asked while you’re working with a hot stove.”

You suppress a sigh, relaxing your fingers as Jungkook soothes the burn with his gentle hold, “Shouldn’t have asked in the first place,” you mumble.

“I know,” he replies, “guess I’m just feeling a little left out. We don’t talk like we used to. I guess I’m getting a little too nosy for my own good, aren’t I?”

You don’t understand what’s going on with his incessant babbling as of late, but you chalk it up to work stress and Jisoo’s move. Having no answers to his honest reply, you gently untack your red palm from his grip, assuring him that you’re fine.

Namjoon steps into your kitchenette, being surprisingly careful as he takes your potholder to pour himself a cup of tea. If the tea is oversteeped and bitter he doesn’t say anything, only leans against the counter as he regards you two with slow sips. “You alright?”

“M’fine,” you reply stubbornly, avoiding Jungkook’s worried stare.

Namjoon holds out his hand, “Hand.”

“No—”

“Hand.”

His deep voice coerces you, and you immediately slap the back of your palm onto Namjoon’s. Your partner brushes his golden hands over the tiny blister that’s forming over your fingertips. “Can’t have my Work Wife outta commission.”

“Your Work Wife is fine,” you gripe back.

Your co-worker’s eyes flicker over to Jungkook’s for a brief second, Jungkook regarding him in curiosity as he stares at your connected palms. “I have some aloe in my bag for sunburns,” Namjoon offers helpfully, ignoring the weird glances, “I’ll give it to you in a bit. Also, I’ve overcome my sudden bout of stress and I’m ready to email our progress to Victoria. We’re done for the day.”

“Awesome, thanks Joonie,” you exhale, relaxing against the sink, “wanna go eat somewhere?”

“There’s a niche place in Itaewon if you wanna check it out?” Namjoon offers.

Jungkook interjects, “Jisoo ordered pizza if you guys wanna share with us?”

“Pizza also sounds good—”

“We don’t wanna interrupt your alone time,” you gracefully cut in, stepping in front of Namjoon despite the fact that he’s easily towering over you.

Jungkook snorts, “I’ll have enough alone time with her when she moves in, don’t worry. Besides, I ordered three pies because I wanted to try three different flavor combos. I need two additional judges.”

“Thanks Jungkook but,” you stifle a cry when Namjoon jabs you in the back with his thumb. It’s pressing, digging into the small of your back as if he’s trying to telepathically tell you that you’re being rude, “but… I don’t know if I can eat three slices! Namjoon on the other hand, can probably eat enough to fairly judge.”

“Great,” Jungkook’s smile is blinding, causing your grin to stiffen as he looks for his phone to shoot Jisoo a quick text that they’re having dinner for four.

Once Jungkook’s out of earshot, Namjoon tugs you by the sleeve, “The hell was that?” he hisses in your ear, “you look like you’re about to shit and piss your pants at the same time.”

“I just don’t feel comfortable eating with them,” you cross your arms in defiance. You think back to just a week ago where you and Jisoo reluctantly attempted to eat breakfast together one morning. You provided minimal small talk while Jisoo clinged to her phone, replying to you in non-committal clipped tones.

“Do I want to know?”

“No.”

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No!” you retort, “you got me into this mess, you’re gonna stay with me ‘till the end.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, woman,” Namjoon throws his arms out exasperatedly, oolong tea nearly sloshing onto his hand, “just suck it up or I revoke your bragging rights to that snag you got on our spread next Monday.”

“Not my fault you couldn’t get Kim Taeyeon on the spread,” you smirk.

“Well I didn’t so happen to stalk the Sephora she frequents for the past two weeks—”

“I didn’t stalk her I just so happened to need a new Fenty Gloss Bomb every other day—”

“I’m home, Jungkookie!”

Your face contorts, your playful energy melting to the hardwood as your previous banter with Namjoon evaporates into thin air. Work bags in one hand and three boxes of pizza balancing in the other, Jisoo kicks off her heels somewhere across the door and places the pizza on the dining table.

Jungkook immediately appears by her side, and you look away and Jisoo plants a heavy kiss on his lips. She cracks open one eye as she notices you and Namjoon hanging by the kitchenette, “Oh,” she mumbles at her audience, “you’re here?”

Yes, you bimbo. I’m here in my own apartment.

“I guess you didn’t read my text that they’ll be joining us for dinner,” Jungkook cuts in good-naturedly, “we have way too much pizza anyway. Have a seat, guys.”

Jungkook navigates the kitchen as easily as your own, and you slump in your chair while Namjoon exchanges pleasantries with Jisoo. She looks impeccable, hair in a tight chignon and a tight navy dress as she converses with your co-editor.

“I’m starving,” Jungkook announces, making sure to place a slice on Jisoo’s plate. He shuffles through the other boxes, making brief eye contact with you when he decides to put a slice on yours as well, “you like these toppings, right?”

You regard the greasy, hearty piece of cheese and bread with a curt nod. You feel Jisoo’s eyes laser on your skin, “Yeah, thanks Kook.”

Namjoon, Jisoo and Jungkook mostly stir up the conversation, you opting to eat as slow as possible to avoid any conversation. It’s easy to blend back and let them take over, as Jisoo loves to talk about her fashion firm and Namjoon is a great listener.

Jungkook and Namjoon make it a point to direct the conversation to you from time to time, and you let the ball leave your court as soon as it lands. You prefer to keep your responses short and simple, especially when Jisoo is so eager to talk about the new silk drapes she’s installing for Jungkook’s windows.

Your phone buzzes in your lap, and you discreetly look under the table to read the incoming text message.

vernie bernie: would u like to do the devil’s dance tonight

vernie bernie: or a tickle to my pickle?

vernie bernie: beatin ya bean?

You: ohmyGOD

vernie bernie: or y’know, u could just come ovr and chill. Hobi made some bomb tres leches

You: call. Ill come after dinner

“Are you okay, y/n?” your head bounces up to meet Jungkook’s gaze, “you’ve barely eaten and you haven’t talked much.”

“Oh you know, she’s just stressed about the upcoming spread,” Namjoon steps in for you, and you send him a discrete, but grateful smile. He’s always impeccable at reading the room, “she’s just nervous about her interview with Kim Taeyeon, but I think you did her interview justice.”

“No way, the singer Kim Taeyeon?” Jungkook gushes, regarding you with stars in his eyes, “your interviews are always so great, y/n. You ask really good questions. Like that one spread about Lee Yonghwa’s art gallery? Really cool.”

You notice the way Jisoo presses her lips together, a thin line as if she’s trying to seal away words that she’ll regret saying. She’s jealous, and you can’t help the blush of pride that fills your veins as you raise a secret brow at her.

“Right, you got nothing to worry about,” Namjoon squeezes your shoulder encouragingly, as if you’d get his double-meaning.

“Thanks,” you reply, pushing your plate away and standing up, “I’m actually gonna go head to Vernon’s for a bit, though. He wants to double check his work before we email Victoria.”

It’s a bald-faced lie, Namjoon sent the files to Victoria right before dinner, but he isn’t going to argue.

“Okay,” Namjoon thanks Jungkook and Jisoo for the meal, stacking his plate atop yours, “I’ll walk out with you.”

“It’s only been twenty minutes, though,” you see the slight panic in Jungkook’s gaze as he watches you quickly clean up for you and Namjoon. You can’t quite pin why he’s so concerned, after all he has been acting strange as of late.

“Yeah, I’m full,” you reply curtly, licking your lips and avoiding his gaze. You already know what he wants to say, that he’s been in your apartment all day and all he’s seen you eat is stale chips and tea, “but we can do this again.” But hopefully not.

“If you’re coming home late again,” it’s the first time Jisoo has spoken to you directly. You tilt your head to her slowly, watching the plastic smile carefully carved onto her expression. You see the contrived care and concern between her brows, “please try to be quieter next time, the last time you came home late you woke Jungkookie up.”

Snapping your gaze to Jungkook you plaster on a thick smile, “Sorry Jungkook—”

“What? No, it’s fine!” he furrows his brows in confusion, finally able to detect the strange tension between the two housemates, “I barely heard you—”

“Maybe I’ll just stay the night at Vernon’s,” your eyes trail over to the pajama set you immediately switched into when you got home today, “wouldn’t want to disturb you two.”

“Good,” Jisoo’s tone is saccharine and clipped as she tacks on a, “have fun.”

It’s laudable, how much Jisoo wants to make a fool out of you but you won’t have it. You revel in the perplexed expression as Jungkook’s gaze darts back and forth between the two of you, wanting to butt in but unsure of how to approach it. Not giving him the time to, you bid the couple a goodnight and make a fast getaway. Heck, you don’t even take your work stuff with you.

Once you’re out the door, Namjoon wordlessly gives you a hug. You sigh gratefully into his embrace.

The next time Jungkook sees you, he reads the room before anything. You and Jisoo’s apartment is scarily empty, almost clinical. He’s tried texting you a few times after his failed-not-failed attempt at catching up at the mall and his awkward conversation concerning Namjoon, but you always reply back with vague replies and an unpromised promise of meeting up sometime soon.

It dulls him to think that you’ve given up on him as a friend. But can you blame him? He needs to keep an appropriate distance for Jisoo, after all, she doesn’t like it when he gets too close to other women unless it’s strictly professional. Usually Jisoo’s jealousy inevitably works itself out and Jungkook doesn’t pose any problems because he has very few girl friends, but for some reason your friendship with him specifically gets Jisoo stiff in the face. Is it because you and Jisoo are so close? Possibly.

But it doesn’t mean you can’t join the same Valorant server with him at 2AM and accidentally bomb each other, or argue over the magnum opus of each film company. Is that not enough?

Jisoo’s working overtime, and Jungkook suggested last night that he move the boxes to the front of the door for easy pick-up when the moving truck arrives. Jisoo promises to buy Thai food in return, and with a kiss emoji she leaves him to audit fabric budgets.

As he glides down to Jisoo’s room he notes that the pictures along the wall have disappeared, and there’s double the amount of boxes in the hallway. It seems that you’re moving out too. To where, he doesn’t know but he hopes it isn’t too far.

He chides Jisoo remotely when he sees that her room is completely intact, and he makes moves to pack up her things.

That’s when he finds his letter. Not a love letter to Jisoo, but a love letter to you. Deep in the recesses of Jisoo’s junk drawer, is a faded lavender envelope with a pressed cream colored baby’s breath taped up in plastic. The glue is yellow and old, clearly served its purpose due to the fact that the letter is already opened and the contents rumpled.

Hey Pretty Girl–

He immediately stuffs the letter back in its holder, stricken at his messy handwriting from two years ago. It feels like he found a time capsule, another version of Jungkook confessing to you. He used to call you Pretty Girl, not enough for you to catch on to his feelings, but enough for you to understand that he did find you attractive. It was early on in your friendship.

When you first asked him to be study partners for some silly class that had nothing to do with each other’s majors, he gaped like a guppy and pointed to himself. That day he went to class in last night’s clothes and a nest of fluffy strands. “Me?” he felt like absolute trash, and you were probably desperate due to the fact you two were the only seniors in this class, “but you’re a pretty girl… and I’m pretty dumb when it comes to this subject.”

But instead you scoffed and pulled him from his slumped figure, dragging him to the library, with a wink and a “you’re pretty, too.” Those words have burned in his brain since then, as he wasn’t used to getting such off-handed compliments, especially from intelligent girls that wanted more than one night.

For whatever reason you continued seeing his dumb self, even after the semester ended and together registered for one more class for spring.

Whenever you’d go out for ice cream you wouldn’t hesitate to stuff your face and add for extra Oreos and fries, you’d assure Jungkook you’re not normally this much of a slob.

Jungkook would just smile and offer you a napkin and say, “You’re still a pretty girl.”

He fell for you gracefully. There was no regret, no walk of shame, no cliché late night party where you or him could’ve instigated it into the physical. It was all by feel.

However the two of you took your time with your relationship, languidly enjoying the hushed conversations in the library at 2AM, the late night McFlurry runs, the integration of each other’s friends like it was natural. Ergo the lavender love letter. It was a gentle declaration, one he felt pretty confident in.

So color him stupid when you passed him in class with a happy wave, Jungkook dumbfounded at how well you handled his confession. You weren’t oblivious, you just never read it.

But now he knows the declaration was for whatever reason, lost in transit. “I should’ve known,” he whispers in the air, the letter crumpling in his grip. Composing himself, he pinches his brows.

There’s an electronic buzz and a sharp slam of the front door. Judging by the time, you’re home.

You flop onto your mattress, folding an arm over your head to stop the sun from seeping to your eyes. Vernon’s exhausted you, and you barely got away before he could have any say in it. You need a little space, and some time to think.

Just as you close the door to your bedroom, it swings open.

You gape as Jungkook thrusts himself into your bedroom like a deer with horns, looking pale. You follow his gaze, darkened eyes that linger a little too long on your neck again, and you narrow your eyes at him to avert. He looks a little red in the cheeks despite his pallidness, looking like he just got out of bed with messy wavy locks and his signature sweats. Is Jungkook packing for Jisoo again?

Acutely aware that you smell like sweat and sex, you clutch the blankets closer to your body. “Uh, rude.”

He looks uncharastically frantic, waving a letter in his hand, “Did you ever read this?”

“Read what?” you ask, hands reaching out for the envelope.

“My confession letter,” he blurts, having no shame now that all the gears are running through his head. “I wrote you a letter asking you out, because you said you wanted to collect notes like in Letters to Juliet. But I just found it in Jisoo’s drawer, why would it be there?”

And all the pent up frustration that never seemed to escape under Vernon’s sheets, the feelings that never seem to subside, all bubble back to the surface. Now that Jungkook knows, there’s no hiding.

You’re in shock, hands reaching for the letter despite the burn that seeps through your fingertips. Jungkook’s shoulders slump when you do indeed look like it’s your first time seeing this, as if a missing puzzle piece in your timeline has finally been revealed.

“I, I didn’t think you’d write me a letter,” you take the lavender envelope, clutching the letter by your chest like it’s something precious, “that’s so sweet,” you say to yourself.

It dawns on him, “Wait, you knew about this? I knew something weird was going on.”

“Only recently,” you frown.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” he nearly shouts, causing you to flinch, “no wonder why you were being so weird all this time. How could you let me live the rest of my life knowing this? That my relationship is built on a lie? ”

“I don’t know,” you suddenly feel very small in your mattress as Jungkook rounds up on you, pulling your desk chair closer to your bed, “because you love Jisoo, of course.”

“Well obviously that’s not possible,” and while yes a two-year realtionship ending like this is going to hit him hard tonight, he’s focused on you and the fact that you failed to tell him, “somehow I’d find out. Why wait for me to find out on my own?”

“Because I wanted to protect you!”

“Protect me,” he scoffs, crossing his arms and sneering at you. It causes you to tense up, feeling the telltale signs of tears bubbling to the surface, “you don’t even want to be friends anymore, y/n. I’ve tried to catch up to you so many times, but you keep leaving me hanging. I know I’ve been a pretty bad friend and I get it if you just feel awkward that I liked you, then that’s a shitty reason.”

“Have you ever considered that it’s too late to tell you?” you shoot back, sitting up straight, “yes, I admit I should’ve told you earlier and I’m sorry, but it was a lot for me to process to y’know? Jisoo and I haven’t talked properly in weeks!”

“Oh, so you’ve stopped trying to be friends with Jisoo too, huh? Just like you’re trying to stop being friends with me.”

“No,” you pinch your brows, “she stopped being friends with me! She doesn’t care about me because she has you,” conflict burns in Jungkook’s gaze, and you only serve to fuel the fire, “she’s tried so hard to not involve me in your relationship.”

“Just tell me why you’ve really kept this secret instead of saying you want to protect me like a baby—”

“It’s because I’m in love with you, idiot!”

You blink and back up against the wall of your bedroom, as if you can’t believe that the words came out of your mouth.

It’s quiet again. The sour look evaporates from Jungkook’s face as he watches you suppress your sobs on your mattress. The room seems devoid, sucked out of its color as you’ve cleaned up most of your things, the only thing left being some plain grey sheets and a pillow.

Jungkook’s mind is absolutely reeling, playing back memories from a different point of view.

“When Jisoo told me she sabotaged our relationship so she could date you, I was so upset and didn’t know what to think,” you manage to place the lavender note on your wooden desk, making sure no tears could mar it. “And I thought I could move on and eventually stay friends with the both of you, but the next day Jisoo put all her attention on you and completely ignored me or any attempt to salvage our friendship. She only told me to forgive herself,” you’re hugging yourself, wrapping the blankets around you like a weak embrace, “so I thought if I cut myself out of the picture and forced myself to move on like I should’ve, everything would’ve been okay.”

“So, you would’ve rather kept all this pain to yourself?”

“Yeah,” you give him a teary smile, “because I wanted you to be happy.”

And with an equally sad smile he murmurs, “But I’m not happy.”

Your face falls, and you really look at Jungkook. He’s exhausted as well, slumped in his chair. Has he been trying to grapple along the threads of his relationships, while you’ve been trying to loosen them?

“What a waste of two years,” he slumps in your chair, letting the pieces click into place, “a relationship built on fake love. I was really trying, y’know. I thought I was going crazy.”

The three of you have unknowingly been playing a futile game of Cat’s Cradle, a game that no one wins.

Jungkook looks wistfully out the window, noting the pleasant day that fails to present itself in your tiny room. It feels simultaneously satisfying and bitter when it falls into place, your thoughts finally fitting together for the first time in months. “We could’ve loved each other. For real,” he says, and you silently agree.

You’re still crying, shaking like a leaf in autumn. Jungkook’s arms hover awkwardly over yours, his warmth palpable despite the fact that he hasn’t touched you yet. With a timid smile you allow consent, and you melt like putty in his arms.

“Kookie, ‘m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you murmur into his shoulder, not caring if it hurts when you press your chin into his skin. “I’m sorry you had to find out this way.”

It’s been so long to have him close like this, the friend you’ve always wanted but never needed. Since college you’ve always imagined a life without him doing just fine, but that doesn’t mean you want to live without him, roommate’s boyfriend or not.

“I’m sorry too,” he sighs back, “this sucks right now, but we’ll be alright.”

The two of you sit in your room until it turns dark and the sky muddles into shades of twilight and egg yolk orange. There’s lulls in the conversation, the two of you filling in the gaps and making sense of the mumbo-jumbo that’s been going on in your consciousness up until this point. Your insantities turn sane, and by the time Jisoo’s making her way back inside with the smell of pad thai, Jungkook is ready. With a squeeze to each other and a press of your lips because you don’t know what to say, you tuck yourself in and pretend to fall asleep.

“Messy, messy, messy,” Vernon sing-songs, knocking his heels against the wall.

The both of you are sitting upside-down, butts attached to the wall connecting to his mattress and your feet hanging in the air. Your mint floral organza socks pad against his Pink Floyd poster, while his yellow tube socks are heeling against some old Polaroids from college. There’s no prospect of sex today, not when shit just hit the fan.

Today you and Vernon are just two old friends and very close co-workers.

“Tell me about it,” you bemoan, frowning at the beige wall, “this whole week’s just been a whole mess. It’s like, warm tuna salad.”

“Gross,” Vernon grimaces at the apt comparison, “so what happens now?”

You sit up on your elbows, looking down at Vernon’s peaceful expression, “What do you mean?”

“Like, are you gonna get together with him?”

You snort, flopping back down on his bed. The blankets fluff around you and you inhale the pine scented sheets. “After all that? No.”

“But you still love him?”

It must sound dumb to still love him after all this time. You wouldn’t be surprised if Vernon thought you’re silly to still hold a place in your heart for someone who has fifteen million things on their plate now. After all the physicality and the space Vernon gave you in his home, your feelings haven’t wavered.

Your companion doesn’t bother waiting for your answer, hearing your answer somewhere in the air as he gets up and throws on his denim jacket. Rolling over your stomach you ask, “Where are you going?”

“Some friends down in printing want to meet up for drinks,” Vernon messes up his hair, making the waves part in that little coiff that makes his jawline look sharp. “I heard Yerin really wanted me to come, so.”

You can’t help the little middle school coo that comes from your lips, causing Vernon to giggle and throw a pillow at you. “Yerin’s cute!” you declare, remembering the petite girl in overalls who’s all about pops of yellow and violet, “you're into her?”

“Nah,” Vernon holds up two hats in his hands, gesturing for you to pick one. “Just figured it was a push in the right direction.”

Crawling out of his bed you stumble in your oversized t-shirt, tucking a finger under your chin as you decide between the emerald bucket hat and the red Ralph Lauren baseball cap. You pull out both hats from his hands and set it down on his vanity, opting to smooth out the flyaways and ringing your fingers through his soft curls. “And what direction would my free-flowing friend be going today?” you ask aloud, “you look better with your hair out,” you declare firmly, “makes you look like a fluffy CEO.”

He laughs at your silly comparison, and he gently moves your hand away from his hair when you linger a little too close to him. His gaze is solemn as he regards you with a gentle smile, “Keep your distance, I’m tryna get over someone,” he says simply, and your arm falls limp at your sides.

Your heart thuds in a different direction, your mouth parting but no words coming to the surface. When was the last time you asked about Vernon’s needs, wondered if he was doing alright, making sure you two were on the same page—

“You’re spiraling,” he reads you like a playbook, smoothing down your hair to press a kiss to the crown. Suddenly you feel guilty for not having sparks in your belly, shaming your conscience for not even considering his sacrifices in your self-absorption these past few weeks. “Like I said, I wanted to help you. Stop looking like a kicked puppy, it’s okay to be selfish.”

With transparent tears the two of you pack up and head to your next destination. Hands ghosting between each other you make your way to the exit of Vernon’s apartment, him to meet up with his friends while you have to unpack your new apartment. With a hug you tell each other you’ll see them on Monday, and as easy as that you go your separate ways.

Hey Pretty Girl—

I kinda wanted to tell you this in person but I know how much you liked Mamma Mia and all those other movies that have grand gestures in writing so I thought hey, might as well shoot my shot on paper.

Not gonna tell you all the details, because you deserve to hear it in-person. But mayhaps this letter has something to do with how much I like studying with you, watching movies with you, doing absolutely nothing with you and all of that in-between.

There’s a gift card to our spot attached. Meet me at McDonalds @12 tonight, so I know it’s real 😎

Hopefully yours, Jungkook

P.S. if you haven’t noticed already, I sprayed a little cologne and stole Taehyung’s fancy paper from Muji. That’s how serious I am about you.

“Joon, we live in a bonsai garden. We’re like giants in a forest.”

“Can you—can you stop spitting at them? Let them breathe, dammit.”

“Not my fault they’re so tiny! I literally have to zoom 200% just to get a good look at ‘em.”

The two of you are huddled in what used to be Namjoon’s balcony, now a sunroom for his succulents and bonsais. Your heart feels pink and swollen with affection as you regard Namjoon with interest, absorbing every bit of information you can as he teaches you how to care for his plants. After all, you’re co-parenting now.

Having your Wusband co-sign as your roommate for the next year is probably the best decision you have made this year. Everyday is like a breath of fresh air. With Seokjin gone for the year to tour his restaurant franchises, his room is yours for the taking. The two of you are easy going roommates, filling the apartment with color and vigour whether it be in the form of baking sweets or watching Netflix documentaries.

The only drama you ever have is when you two are having a meltdown over the same work-related issue, as if you two somehow share the same brain cell. It’s significantly less stressful, no need for unnecessary anger when you have someone as mediating as Namjoon.

After today’s plant lesson, you two go back to the living room to finish up your work for the evening. Another perk of living together is that you can go home at normal work times and continue where you left off with the comfort of your couch and eating a whole pizza pie with no shame.

Namjoon’s phone pings with a new email from corporate. “We got the new concept for next month’s spread,” he gestures to you with a grandiose wave of his arm, “drumroll please.”

He pulls up the newsletter from corporate with a flick of his thumb. Your company put out every month’s concept out in an Evite, like every month was a themed party. A stressful, month long work party. In seconds, the page loaded and you’re met with next month’s title bathed in electronic glitter.

The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth

The two of you say silent, absorbing the concept like a cookie to milk. It’s a personal spread this month, a real treat for the team to show off their normal non-professional life. A spread that reveals the masters behind the ink and text. Last year’s personal spread was about the staff’s vacation destinations, but this year’s is much more intimate. You can imagine all the ideas that will be thrown around on Monday’s meeting: pinning down shared ideas like Throwback Thursdays, late night munchie runs, drunk stories, and all the crazy college nostalgia that you’ve been trying to avoid as of late.

But now it’s presented to you in a gold chalice, and while you’re sick of the past you think it’s about time to face it. You’re excited to tackle the dark monster you’ve suppressed since Jungkook and Jisoo’s breakup.

“Did I ever tell you I was president of my university’s Mock Trial?”

“No, I always thought you’d be president of the Comparative Literature Club or whatever. But Mock Trial is equally as nerdy.”

“I’ll have you know Mock Trial got me tons of action,” he winked, “made me very convincing.”

“Gross,” you sneer, “so that’s what your spread will be about? How the co-editor of the Arts & Entertainment section managed to bag with his skills from Mock Trial?”

“Nah, I went on a penniless journey with Jin during spring break. Six days around Malta.”

“That does sound so you,” you sigh, fingers slipping between the cracked screen as you mull over the overly happy Evite, “sounds like a cool story.”

“I know that look,” Namjoon quips, snatching his phone under his nose, “don’t overthink your spread just yet, it’s still the weekend. Now to more important things, what do you want from Taco Bell?”

And because you can’t refuse the combined efforts of nachos and Namjoon’s dimples, you relent for the night and tack the unmade idea to the next workday.

Unfortunately the next workday is just as disheartening. Today’s work meeting is the antithesis of icing on the cake. While your college life isn’t anything remarkable, you didn’t think it was a painfully dull time. With every passing moment and every excited co-worker throwing memories back and forth like ping pong balls, the more you felt inferior by competing with their amazing memories.

“Who can even afford Aruba at twenty-one,” you mutter under your breath, stalking back to your cubicle.

Filling up a whole spread is daunting to you, the thought of Victoria popping her head in your cubicle to ask what you’ve got for the day is practically eating you from the inside out. Maybe your college life was in actuality, super boring? You have no crazy drug trips to tell, any vacations that gave you a life-changing perspective, or an epic love story.

“What’cha got there, partner?”

The third musketeer of your editing team’s caramel eyes peer into your cubicle, causing you to jump in your chair. Vernon wheels around, chair and all to push you into your already cramped space. His gold button up gleams in the sunlight, effectively blinding you.

“If by something you mean nothing, then yeah I got nothing,” you frown, spinning around your chair. “What are you writing about?”

A fond smile melts onto your friend’s face, and you can’t help returning a smile that mirrors his own. You two have fallen back into a good place, as far as you know. He’s still easy, simple, sweet Vernon. When you dropped some boxes off in coloring, you heard that Vernon and Yerin have recently started seeing each other.

“Thought of the idea as soon as the Evite came out. It’s more of a photo spread, but I’m gonna write about my study abroad in NYU,” Vernon ticks a pencil on his forehead, “a self-identity piece talking about how I felt like, not-white around my family n’stuff. And then felt not-Asian at the same time, s’complicated but I think I can make it work.”

“Deep,” you pat his shoulder caringly, knowing that Big Hit is a good outlet for these kinds of subjects, “alright City Slicker, since you’re so full of ideas then tell me what to write about.”

Vernon sits up straight, regarding you with narrowed eyes, “Aren’t you gonna write about your little love triangle with Jisoo and Jungkook?” and it seems like he’s already storyboarded the idea in his head, gesturing to the air as if he’s writing down a timeline, “I can see the headline now: How to Steal a Heart,” he’s grinning, nodding fervently as you cross your arms in distaste.

“Vern, are you suggesting that I exploit Jisoo and Jungkook’s personal lives?” while the journalism business didn’t pride itself on sincerity, it did feel wrong to drag in your personal life to that extent.

“Babe, you don’t understand. You have the perfect slice of life story. Everyone’s writing about expensive vacations and that one time they got cross-faded and ended up in Busan,” he squeezes your hand, “but your story, it’s relatable. It’s romantic. It’s angsty. It has closure. No one’s gonna be able to relate to an impulse spending on daddy’s money to Aruba. But first loves? Unrequited romance and all that ish? Everyone can speak to that. And you’re a beautiful writer, they’ll eat up that story like honey.”

“I don’t know, it still doesn’t feel right.”

“Change up the names, twist the story,” he offers easily, knowing you’d put up a fight, “besides, it’s not like you’re planning on talking to Jisoo or Jungkook ever again,” you open your mouth to retort, but Vernon’s phone beeps to the Star Wars theme song and he’s flying out of his chair. “Shoot, gotta go help Joon upstairs. Just think about it, okay? Good luck!” and he’s kicking his chair out with a brown loafer, leaving you with breathing room in your cubicle.

Five seconds later Vernon is jogging back, pointing a finger at you, “And if you do choose to write it, you have to add that Jisoo copped your McDonalds gift card. Like, who does that shit? Couldn’t she have just given it to you and say it was from her and not Jungkook? Seriously fucked up.”

For the next ten or so minutes you mull. Out of all the memorable college events you’ve participated in, the largest one by far is your (now defunct and debatable) friendship with Jisoo, and your (un)requited love for Jungkook. Reluctantly, you must admit Vernon has a sharp idea, busting in like a hero and offering you the most writable piece on a silver platter.

It doesn’t feel morally right just to start writing, because ultimately you can’t feel comfortable until you get the consent of Jungkook. While you don’t want to touch Jisoo with a ten-meter pole, you do want to start talking to Jungkook again now that the waters have calmed.

Your life has moved gracefully up until this point, and you’d like to start being friends with him again. Decision made, you pull out your phone and make an important call.

“Hey Yoongi,” you say nervously. Min Yoongi is Kim Namjoon’s equivalent, Jungkook’s Wusband and former upperclassmen in college.

Said man hums noncommittally on the other line, “Whaddya want, it’s been awhile.”

You stifle a giggle at his apathetic attitude, knowing he’s someone who wastes no time in getting straight to the point. “I just wanna make sure Jungkook’s address is still the same? I know it’s been a couple months, but I need to send him something and I wanna make sure it gets to him ASAP because—”

“Because last time something was sent, your crazy roommate intervened and Jungkook ended up in a two-year half-toxic relationship? Yeah, let’s make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

“Yoongi,” you say slowly, “where are you?”

“Working in the studio,” he tuts, “Jungkook says hi, by the way.”

Typical, cat’s out of the bag. With a roll of our eyes you reply, “Thanks for outing me, Yoongi. Talk to you later.”

“And y/n? Jungkook says he’s waiting.”

With a stupid smile slapped onto your face, you hang up the phone and pull out your stationary kit from under your desk. You pluck out a vermillion red envelope, a color so bold and begging to be seen, you know it can’t possibly get lost in transit. Feeling a little bit like a high schooler as you pull out a glitter jelly pen, you get to writing.

Hey Pretty Boy...

Jungkook and Jisoo are no longer together, evidently.

Their social media runs in different directions, with Jisoo sporting absolute elegance in her work at her family-owned boutique. Her posts are full of shiny outfits and soulless gazes, betraying any pinch of emotion she may have felt over these past few months. Her profile is wiped of any personal posts, all traces of you and Jungkook evaporated from her page. You must admit that she looks good, like a real fashion mogul, but only at the surface level.

Conversely, Jungkook is thriving. It’s evident. Normally he isn’t the type of guy to post so frequently, his habits being often sporadic and limited to sweaty gym stories. But whenever you scroll, it’s pictures of him smiling. Big bunny teeth broken into a genuine, full-bellied laugh. Cute selfies of him and his co-workers. You notice two familiar co-workers in those posts, Irene and Seulgi, two beautiful women Jisoo always felt intimidated by whenever she ranted to you. You conclude positively that Jungkook doesn’t feel tethered and can hang out with all the friends he wants, female and male alike. Jungkook looks free, and you’re happy for him.

It’s another Instagram-worthy moment tonight at McDonalds, where you and Jungkook proposed to meet each other at 12AM.

This time, the letter makes it to its desired destination. You make sure of that because this time you hand-deliver it, slipping under his apartment door knowing he lives alone and no one would be able to access it except him.

You’re parked in an obscure corner, but you can see that Jungkook is currently having a great time with his co-workers for an after work meal. Yoongi is unbothered on his phone, while Jimin and Seulgi are taking turns throwing fries into each other’s mouth. Jungkook is squished between them, scrunching his nose cutely as he tries not to get in the fray of their fry-war.

Your phone pings, and you laugh at what pops up on the screen.

Yoongi: come inside, u loser.

You: can’t ur friend group makes me nervous stop being so dang cute

You: dw i’ll wait, it’s only 11:50

Instead of replying, Yoongi puts his phone down and resumes eating. In turn you pick a playlist, deciding that “summer time high mix✨✨✨” is a theme you need to subscribe to for the rest of the weekend.

Busying yourself by sending some texts to Namjoon and checking some emails, you relax in your seat as you let your brain turn to sludge for the weekend. You’re tired, eyes glazing over as you watch Yoongi elbow Jungkook harshly, forcing him to look out the foggy window.

Jungkook’s eyes light up like it’s Christmas Eve, but instead of Christmas lights it's your car’s lowlights. The graphic designer pays no mind to his friends as they wish him goodbye and goodluck, throwing on his jacket with a wave.

The night air whizzes by, Jungkook’s floppy black strands bouncing with each step as he bounds to your car. He throws your door open, bringing in the cold air as he regards you as easily as an old friend would.

“Hi,” he chirps, placing his tattooed palms by the air vent, “c’mon, let’s order.”

“You know, you could’ve ordered inside and brought it in here.”

“Yeah but then it would take longer to get to you,” the cheeky grin that Jungkook throws at you is unmistakable, “c’mon, get out the car and let’s switch.”

“Huh?”

“You look tired, you didn’t come back from the office again, did you?”

“I did tonight,” you say, “I just really wanted to get the soft copy of the article done and—”

“Out, out!” Jungkook clicks your seatbelt off and he’s coming out of the passenger side, opening your car and pulling you out by the hand, “c’mon, I’ll drive.”

You shake your head, hiding your smile in your hand as you let Jungkook do what he wants. Normally you’d be insulted that anyone suggests they should drive your car but Jungkook would always drive you around, saying he loved long rides. Above all, if you could trust anyone to drive your car, Jungkook is at the top of the list.

Buckling in, you bite the inside of your cheek as Jungkook easily pulls out of the parking spot one-handed. His jacket is pulled up to his elbows, exposing his veins as he expertly whirls the wheel in the direction of the drive-thru. Since college he’s always looked very attractive driving.

Doesn’t mean you have to act like you’re still in college. You tamp those feelings down, knowing that your article probably has you feeling stuck in time.

“—coming along?”

“Wha?”

“I said, how’s the spread coming along?”

“It’s pretty much done, I think. I’ll send you the hard copy when it’s ready,” you tap your fingers against the dashboard, “but are you sure you’re okay with me writing it? I know I’m using a pseudonym and everything for you two but I still feel weird—”

“It’s fine, I think it’s a good thing,” and you still squirm in your seat when he flashes you a genuine smile, “I mean, it kinda is a funny story and I think it’s good for both of us. Like closure, y’know? Moving on and—hi, can I get two Oreo McFlurrys and a large fry? Thanks!” he pulls out his wallet to scan the total on the e-reader. “I mean, didn’t it feel good writing it?”

“Yeah,” you replied honestly, relaxing in your seat, “like, college was fun and all, but when Jisoo kinda ruined all that… after awhile I didn’t think it was ruined after all, y’know? I still made amazing friends and ended up where I wanted to be. I want to show the readers that shit happens, and that’s okay. And if things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.”

The summer playlist hums in the background as Jungkook pulls up to the pick-up window. He thanks the worker and hands you the tray, and you make quick work to put the fries in the first cup holder for optimal sharing. He doesn’t park at McDonalds, but instead smoothly pulls out of the restaurant into the direction of his apartment. It isn’t a particularly long drive, but you figure it would be easier for Jungkook to go home first if you’re already parked at his complex.

“What do you mean by that?” Jungkook parks in the driveway of his apartment, taking his McFlurry from your hands.

“Mean by what?”

“If things are really meant to be, they’re meant to be.”

“Well, we’re here now, right?”

Jungkook pops his spoon in, swallowing vanilla and a silly smile through his coral pink lips, “We’re here now,” he repeats.

The night air is cool and your conversation is warm. You promise Jungkook that you’ll send him the final copy of your spread as soon as it’s done, and you two eagerly deviate away from the past and focus on the present.

You can’t help the eagerness that flows between you, as if you’ve never spent time apart like this and it’s only now that you’re reuniting. It must be absence that makes the heart grow fonder, because you swell with affection and you find Jungkook’s presence sweeter than any kind of ice cream.

Are you dating now? Maybe. You and Jungkook are going on dates, everything without the title. McFlurry runs, marathons of HGTV’s Design on a Dime, having lunch at each other’s respective buildings with the Wusbands. Whether these dates are exclusive or not is unknown, but you figure the question will present yourself one way or another.

You’re in a good place right now, potential relationship or not. After all, your priorities are simultaneously positive and in order: family, work, friends, and any potential romantic trysts are at the very bottom. You could kiss the cover of this month’s issue (and trust, you have kissed your own copy multiple times) if it is not for the fact that this specific issue is for Jungkook.

So, romantic trysts and friends have a tendency to flip-flop on your priority list, but only because it’s Jungkook.

Unsurprisingly, there’s no guilt knowing that you’re dating your former best friend's ex-boyfriend.

After a much deserved early work day, Namjoon and the crew arrange a hearty happy-hour filled with good food and enough relaxation to last the weekend. With your combined successes, your team felt like they made the best issue yet. At the heart of it, The Most Beautiful Moment in Life: Class of Youth became a reckoning of each other’s young life. Despite the love and the growth that occurred from your college years up until this point, you’re glad to close that chapter and move forward.

You did not tell Jungkook when the issue would come out, so you think it’ll be a fun surprise for him when he sees it magically show up at his apartment. Bending down you move to slip the issue under his door, one hand pushing it under while one hand braces against the frame to steady your balance.

Just as the shiny cover glides under the door it swings open, and you fall flat on Jungkook’s feet.

Being the little shit he is, he simply giggles at the blunder, looking at you with excited eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he says.

“Creepy as hell, Jeon,” you mutter under your breath, brushing the dirt off your aqua pencil skirt. Looking at him from your spot on the floor and his large height, you grimace. “You look like a middle-aged serial killer looking outside your peephole.”

“Now, we know that’s not true.” he finally offers his hand, easily pulling you up to your feet. You follow him into his kitchen, where he’s cutting up fresh fruit. He throws your issue on the counter, gentle enough so it doesn’t slide off the granite. He gestures to himself with both hands, “me, a dashingly handsome late twenty-something in Nike sweats who can bench-press two of you? Totally not a middle-aged serial killer.”

“It’s in the eyes,” you chastise, “you look crazy.”

“Maybe I’m just crazy excited to see you,” he says with a cheeky grin.

You try your best not to choke on your spit at the cheeseball comment, throwing a blackberry in your mouth. Savoring the burst of tart flavor that fills your mouth, you wait for Jungkook to plate the fruit before meeting him on the couch. He’s holding a prettily arranged plate of berries, bananas, and mango with a huge dollop of whipped cream in the middle. In his other hand is Big Hit’s magazine.

Throwing your blazer on the couch’s arm you don’t hesitate to cuddle up next to him, eagerly waiting for him to read your spread.

The cover gazes back at the two of you like a reflection. The entirety of the staff is posed on the cover, made to look like a class photo. Some of you are holding balloons in your respective school colors, many of you grouping up with whoever happened to go to college together. You and Vernon are wearing matching university sweaters with silly grins on your faces. In the middle of the issue is the editor-in-chief, Victoria Song holding a placard that reads: Class of Youth.

Jungkook spares you a glance from the corner of his eye, your head naturally tucked into his shoulder. With an exaggerated sigh, he fiddles through the glossy pages, “Hmm, which one should I read first?”

“Of course you’ll read mine first,” you pout.

“Ah, Namjoon’s looks really fun. Or Vernon’s? New York looks pretty cool,” he flips to a random page, “wait, Yerin’s spread is a Korean cookbook! I definitely want to make some tuna rice...”

“Jungkook,” you whine, “read mine.”

“I don’t know,” he taps his finger on his lip, “I mean, I pretty much know your spread because I’m already in it. It would be kind of redundant to read it.”

“Kook, you’re being mean,” you glower, rubbing your cheek against his soft sweater. He’s just so damn comfy.

“I’m kidding,” he tugs at your cheek, “where’s the table of contents, first page?”

“I’m on page eighty-three.”

You speed up the process like an impatient child, leaning over to brush the pages to the desired spread. You even dog-earred it, a habit that drives Jungkook crazy as he immediately fiddles to iron out the crease.

“Are you gonna read it to me too, mom?” he teases.

“Okay fine! I’ll be quiet, but don’t take too long.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Eyes fluttering, you let Jungkook take his time to absorb your piece. A roommate by any other (rude) name: the lost letter. A cheesy, gimmicky title that Victoria insisted upon that you had no choice but relent to. The rest of the spread thankfully has a very authentic edge to it, your story laced with photos of you and Jungkook, your internship with Vernon, and most importantly, a scan of the lavender letter that got left in the past.

Jungkook’s not silent through his read-through, either. He laughs at all the right parts, fueling your ego as his smile grows at your favorite lines. While he doesn’t directly engage in conversation, his positive energy is enough for you to make you feel like you’ve done your job right. It’s one thing to write about unknown celebrities and unnamed artists, but for people like Jungkook, the validation is personal.

“It’s beautiful,” Jungkook says when he’s read it thrice through, running his thumb over a picture of you. “Really organic. Really, real.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he chuckles, having run out of adverbs. “It’s funny, too. I liked your little internal monologue. I wish I knew how you felt back then.”

“I wish you did, too.”

You’re quietly munching on a strawberry, looking over a polaroid Jungkook took. It was sometime in the beginning of senior year, where you’ve fallen asleep on his mattress, drool drying on your mouth. Normally you’d be opposed to having such unflattering, grainy pictures amongst your writing, but it encapsulates the youth you’ve tried so hard to chase away.

“How do you feel?” Jungkook says, switching out the magazine for the plate of fruit, placing it on his side.

“Feel great, actually,” you muse, smiling to yourself. By no means are you a hero writing some grand gesture in an entertainment magazine, but you feel like you’ve saved yourself. You’ve savored your youth in four thousand words, cutting out the poison and keeping the moment as sweet as it can be.

“I’m proud of you,” he reaches to ruffle your hair, and you don’t even get mad when it tousles out of your pinned style.

Reveling in the attention, you simply close your eyes and feed yourself a handful of blueberries.

“Love that I make money, but I definitely miss college from time to time,” Jungkook stretches, jostling you out of your comfortable position. “Like I remember Taehyung and I would take turns bringing backpacks to the dining hall so we could stuff fruit in it for later.”

“Yeah, but as much as I loved college I wouldn’t go back,” you nod to yourself, “I’m happy where I am now.”

“What about when we stayed up for midnight breakfast? The dining hall was filled to the brim with food. Remember when I tried to eat a whole stack of pancakes?”

“Jungkook…”

“Or when our classes got cancelled and we went to Lotte World? You ate way too much funnel cake and I had to carry you to the car!”

“Jungkook—”

“And that one time we snuck out to the music hall’s rooftop?” words gush out of Jungkook’s mouth like a waterfall, unable to relent, “that’s when I realized I liked you. I liked you so much, I tried to tell you that night but choked—”

“Jungkook!” and he immediately zips up, frowning. You straighten up, on your knees as you reach over to run your hands through his onyx tresses, moving the styled strands to the back of his pierced ears, “Jungkook,” you repeat softly, “I’ve heard all these stories, I was there for most of them. As much as I love the past… can we talk about something else?” you give him a small, tentative smile to show him you’re not mad, but a little uncomfortable at his reminiscing.

He leans into your touch, pressing your palm against the soft swell of his warm cheek. “Okay,” he agrees, resting one hand on your thigh.

You’re roped in his gaze, and you have to force yourself to breathe when Jungkook moves closer to you. He hooks a leg behind his back, and another across his lap. A cool breeze kisses your inner thighs when your skirt exposes your cotton underwear. You should be embarrassed but instead you’re fixated, unable to understand what he’s trying to accomplish.

“Then I’m gonna talk about the future,” Jungkook traps you between the couch, his thumb running hot circles to where your skirt has hiked up. It exposes a slip of the thigh that Jungkook has seen a million times. He’s seen you walking around your apartment in a large shirt, ridden up to your boyshorts. It’s different now, you feel exposed and tingly, thrumming with excitement. “I like you, obviously anticipated news and old news. I can’t stop thinking about how much I want to go on dates with you, re-watch Avatar, grumble when I force you to come to the gym with me,” he bumps noses with you when you scrunch yours, “I wanna be with you. Heck, I’ve even cleared space in my spare room so you’d have closet space for all your fancy designer suits if you ever need it.”

“You cleared space?” you manage to choke out. Visions of a shared apartment roll through your brain. Cooking meals together, having two toothbrushes side by side, and waking up to his face.

“Of course I did. Do you know how financially attractive you are?” he says lightheartedly, “you’re a sexy working woman and it’s crazy to imagine you’d want to settle for me and my little apartment. But I have to try now because if I don’t, it’ll be too late.”

“That’s not true,” you retort, “you’re not someone I’d settle for. I want you, and no one else.”

He chuckles, running a thumb over your cheek. “Then what are we waiting for? Your key’s hiding under the mat.”

“Jungkook…” on the tip of your tongue lays the words you’re going too fast but it doesn’t make its way to the air.

“But do you really think it’s too fast?” he reads your face clearly, “these feelings never went anywhere. They were locked away, sure. And I loved her,” he can’t even say the name, not when you’re warm and flush against him, “but I loved our friendship more.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you breathe, letting the cogs in your brain roll until sparks develop.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he concedes, “I just wanted to let you know. Could’ve done the letter thing all over again and let the past repeat itself. I know Namjoon wouldn’t hide a love letter for two years, but if I left another damn letter he’d definitely make a copy and tease me about it.”

You snort, pressing your forehead to his. You’re practically buried in the couch now, tingly and vibrating with happiness. “And I’m not going to leave you hanging. I do want to say something,” and he looks at you expectantly, licking the leftover berry juice on his lips, nearly making you miss your train of thought, “I like you too,” you say, the other L-word is also applicable, but you feel like that phrase is reserved for another time, “I want to show you off on work vacations, bring you along as my date and show them you’re my muse,” you confess, “I wanna play video games with you ‘till 2AM, and eat ice cream in the comfort of our apartment instead of our cars because we’re too stubborn to admit we don’t wanna go home without each other.”

Jungkook absolutely preens at the affection, sending you a heart melting smile that has your stomach doing backflips.

“Jungkook, I want to fall in love with you again.”

Your squeal of surprise is swallowed by Jungkook’s lips, tasting of mangoes and berries as strong hands cup your backside, easily lifting you onto his lap. You plop under his strong thighs, feeling them flex against yours. The both of you are pouring in this kiss, raining with promises and hopes for a future with each other. His taste is concentrated, and you can feel the devotion practically injected in his embrace.

When he pulls away his lips are cherry-red and shiny, looking up at you through clear coffee eyes. “This isn’t a dream, right?” he looks at you up and down, unable to decipher fact from fiction, “because I distinctly remember two wet dreams that involve you looking like this.”

Looking down, you heat at the disarray you’re in. Hair wild and parted in different wavelengths, tired of the day’s efforts. Your slightly sheer dress-shirt is rumpled, the lace collar opened with two popped buttons revealing your cleavage, and your skirt is stretched so tight that it’s ruched all the way up your thighs. Sprawled across Jungkook’s lap, you’re dangerously close to something long and hard.

Emboldened, you clutch at Jungkook’s collar, pulling him closer.

“Show me what happens in your dream,” you whisper into his ear, barely brushing your clothed core against his crotch, “maybe we can make it come true tonight.”

You can’t see his face, but you feel something dark and sensual overtake him. The grip on your ass tightens, a delicious pain that has you pressing your breasts against him and nipping on his ear, your tongue darting sensually through the cold silver hoops that dart through his skin.

Within seconds, he rips you away from his neck and demands, “Open.”

Dazed, you barely get a centimeter of your mouth open when Jungkook presses something cold and sugary against your lips. Whipped cream. You manage to take a small bite of the tart strawberry that he holds by the viridian stem, rolling the flavor between your mouth as Jungkook paints the leftover whipped cream over your lips. Once he’s satisfied he then creates a white trail that leads to your cleavage.

Better than any dream, his eyes drink you in like the last glass of water in a desert. Your lips are swollen and parted like a baby kitten, covered in the creamy confection. “So pretty,” he exhales, his hot tongue licking from your cleavage to your lips, swallowing the flavor of you and strawberry juice, “such a pretty girl you are, and all mine.”

“Yours,” you submit easily, rolling your hips against his.

At that moment you think you’re meant to fall in love this way. You can’t imagine the shy, fumbly Jungkook and your equally confused self waltzing around a relationship when you barely had your lives together. The two of you still had growing to do. The wait is certainly worth it, because as you feel his arms tighten around you, you’re sure this love will stay strong.

It’s difficult for you to find a rhythm at first, what with Jungkook’s strength and need to be satiated, both of you are sloppy but the friction is nothing less than delicious. Your finger reaches over to swipe at the leftover cream on the plate, and you press your finger to Jungkook’s mouth, and he immediately complies. A dollop of sweet cream leaks out of his lips and your panties dampen further when you feel his tongue lick you clean, imagaining how good it would feel if it was your pussy he was licking.

Your mouth waters at the feeling of his dick lining up against your core, as sticky as the strawberry juice that clings to your bodies.

“C-can I make a confession? I—oh, Jungkook…” your mind is all fuzzed up when he snaps his hips against yours, causing you to shamelessly bounce on his length.

“Yeah?”

“I… I like it when you use all your strength like that,” his hips slow as your words sink in, but you don’t mind as it gives you time to make a long drag along the entirety of his member. “Everytime you pull me up when I trip, or you come back from a workout, I like it when you carry me around like I weigh nothing.”

“Do—do you think about it a lot?” he grunts, and you stifle a moan when he does a slow, hard drag against your wet folds. “Tell the truth.”

“It’s, it’s embarrassing,” you whimper, unable to think straight with the amount of stimuli you’re receiving.

“Please, baby.”

“Yes mm—oh! I do,” you try to get the words out as quickly as you can. He stops moving, and you groan in frustration so you just lay it all out on the table. “I, I love it when you hold me in your strong arms. And, ah, uh w-henever you come back from the gym you just look so sexy fresh from the shower. Sometimes I think about how you’re too damn nice for your own good but I bet you’d be so rough in bed.”

“Really?” and then he’s shoving you onto the couch, air brushing against your bare thighs as your back hits the beige throw pillows. He’s hovering, dark eyes starting from the tip of your toes to your damp lips. “You like it when I manhandle you? Throw you around like a little doll?”

“All that strength, and for what?” you try to keep your snappy remarks in check, but it’s hard when he’s pressing his straining dick against your thigh, weeping and needy.

“You’re not gonna be joking about my strength anytime soon, baby,” emblazoned, he easily throws your leg over his shoulder, pushing your panties to the side to let your wetness leak out and onto his fingers, “are you gonna complain or be a good girl?”

“Yes, I’m ah—” you wince when he inserts a finger, “I’ll be good for you,”

“My good girl,” he revels in the way you melt under his touch, your previous sarcasm quickly dissolving into a puddle. You always had an inkling that Jungkook would be a sneaky fox in bed, all that muscle hidden behind a kind smile and a penchant for tea with milk and honey.

Jungkook slips in another finger, stretching you and preparing you for what’s to come. He’s scissoring you at a sensible pace that has you squirming and wanting more. To prevent you from shimmying off the couch he holds you down with his free hand, and you love the way he practically feeds you to the couch, hands dancing over your neck as he shoves you further into the furniture.

“You look so gorgeous,” he says, causing you to moan and keen at his attention, “you’re such a strong, gorgeous woman. Having you sprawled out like this, ready to do whatever I want to you is so fucking hot.”

“I’m—I’m only weak for you Jungkook,” you say honestly, tears pricking when he dips another finger. The stretch burns deliciously, and your folds eagerly swallow him up until you’re filled to the brim. Your fingers or toys cannot compare to flesh, and you sigh in relief when you see his inked fingers pick up the pace once more.

“You’re damn right,” Jungkook husks, and with a grain of love he murmurs in your ear, “I’m only weak for you, too.”

And that’s when he snaps, thumb rolling against your bud as he slams his other fingers against you, going at a brutal pace. You cry out, not caring whether his neighbors hear as he pulls you back and forth through pleasure and pain.

“T-too much, Kookie,” you mewl, your hand warbling to find his, “I, ah, ‘m gonna cum!”

“That’s the plan,” he only goes faster, stretching your band further and further before your desired high is reached. His hand trails up to force your chin straight, looking up at him, “let go for me, baby. Wanna feel your pussy clench around my fingers.”

In seconds, you gush. It has you in a slight panic, drunk on endorphins as you try to lift your head up but Jungkook’s hand is firmly pressing you on your shoulder as he fingers you efficiently through your high, the wet squelching sounds only increasing with your cries. His lap is drenched in your arousal, along with his chin and lips glistening with your essence.

He finally releases you when you’re practically shaking, his hands sticky and creamy. You moan when he shamelessly licks them within your view, making sure to wrap his tongue around his ink-stained digits.

“I,” your mouth is dry when you feel the dampness that hits your bottom, “I’ve never, I don’t remember ever—”

Your babbles are lost between your throat and Jungkook’s tongue, shoved deep into your mouth. Tasting your arousal has you practically vibrating in your place, as you two rut against each other like hungry bunnies.

“God, you’re amazing,” he says between pecks, kissing away your face of any tears you may have pricked, “Amazing, adorable, absolutely beautifulIadoreyousoso—”

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you press your hips up, wiggling for more attention, “please fuck me, Jungkook.”

You can’t help the witchy, satisfied smile when Jungkook’s eyes darken to a thick coal, “Anything for you,” he murmurs, swinging your legs between his arms as he lifts you like a feather.

On his lap again, you soon accept that the way you two mesh like puzzle pieces is one of your favorite positions as it gives you both equal space to ravish each other.

Just when your hand trails to the waistband of his boxer briefs and you’re rolling your thumb over its collected moisture, the moment is shattered when the doorbell rings. You jump in his arms, unprepared for your moment to be interrupted.

He groans into the crown of your hair, and you soften in his relaxed hold, “I ordered us pizza,” he nearly forgot.

Perking your head up to look at him you regard him innocently, as if you didn’t release a waterfall on his sweats two seconds ago. “You got us pizza?”

“I knew you’d be coming over tonight,” he’s pouting into your neck, regretting ever having called the pizza guy if he knew this would happen, “Victoria posted the publish date on Twitter. I just didn’t think,” he gestures vaguely to the mess on his pants, “this would happen.”

“Damn, and here I thought I was being sneaky,” you chuckle, flicking his ear playfully.

He gives you an uncharacteristically subby whine, shamelessly upset he has to let you go so fast after he’s given you your first of many highs. Before he weakens further under your beauty, he unceremoniously shoves you off. “Sorry, pretty girl,” you melt at the easy way his pet name rolls off his lips, “can you wait in my room for a bit so I can pay the delivery guy? I don’t want them to see you like this.”

“But I want to eat pizza,” you declare stubbornly, standing up to button your blouse and pull down your skirt.

Before you could fasten one button or pull down one centimeter, his hand darts out to snatch your wrist away from your body. It doesn’t hurt much, but it causes your body to heat in more places than one. He’s sexy like this, demanding your attention. “No,” he rumbles definitively, “my room. Now.”

“Why?” you throw your hands in the air, yelping when he slaps your ass. He makes sure to make it sting, cupping you fully.

“Because,” he says firmly, “you don’t get to eat until I eat,” you whimper when his hand reaches to cup your sex, panties wet and cold without his warmth as he pushes you in the direction of his bedroom.

Oh, you can’t wait for both of you to eat tonight.

some time later.

“Ohmygod the view is beautiful!” Krystal, who works in advertisement, squeals. “No filter needed!”

“Alright alright, make room Princess,” Namjoon teases. With a bump to Krystal’s tiny hips Namjoon shoves you two across the pavilion, putting his arm around you once he finds the perfect angle, “Umji, can you get a pic of me and my Work Wife? I want this on the Big Hit Instagram!”

You hold your straw sunhat down from the salty wind, smiling beautifully as Umji takes multiple pictures of you and Namjoon from her Nikon. Another successful year under your notch, ending with a successful work retreat.

“Namjoon, can I take a picture with my actual wife now?”

“We’re not married, Jungkook,” you chastise, patting the chest of Namjoon’s floral printed Hawaiian shirt so he can switch. Instantly, Jungkook slides up next to you like a picture perfect stock model piece, and you wrap your arms around his trim waist, “we’re not even engaged.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” he pouts, looking over the pavilion and adjusting the both of you so there’s a good amount of you and the resort in the background. The sun may be scathingly hot, but it looks beautiful perched over the crystal clear waters. “Namjoon, you got it easy,” Jungkook says when he hands him your phone, “every angle is our good angle, so you can’t mess it up.”

Being the honest man he is, Namjoon knows better and doesn’t say anything to that. Instead he shoots down whatever pineapple-flavored concoction is offered to him on a silver platter, and starts shooting.

“Is this swimsuit new?” Jungkook murmurs into your ear between shots, flicking your little red number by the strap connecting the back, “because I didn’t see this in the luggage.”

You smile big, pearly whites as Namjoon demands to pop out your butt and work it, pressing your body closer to Jungkook’s. “Tiny enough so I could hide it in my purse,” you reply proudly, voice low for only each other’s ears, “why, surprised?”

“Definitely not prepared,” his fingers dig deliciously in your bare flesh, “would Victoria fire you if she catches us doing it in the cabana?”

Amused that your boyfriend now shares your combined awe and fear of your boss, you twist his nipple lightly. He yelps, and from Namjoon’s guaff he’s definitely got that on camera. “We didn’t come to Boracay to fuck in the cabana.”

“Then the hotel room?”

Namjoon hands you back your phone when he considers his job done, letting you and Jungkook have some alone time. You wave your phone in his face, trying to get him to focus on the task at hand. You wanted to post some cute pictures of you and your boyfriend, one to impress the family back home and the Big Hit interns back in Seoul who are absolutely pining for your position.

“Jungkook, they have the water ski thing where you can flip in the water mid air! Doesn’t that sound fun? Or we can go scuba diving, have Filipino food, or get massages. LIterally, we’re on Big Hit’s dime, and the first thing you want to do is go back to the room?”

“Yes,” he pouts petulantly, leaning into the hollow of your ear and whispering, “got a chub on.”

Discreetly so, your hands brush against his navy trunks and you note yes, he’s half hard. “No!” you shake your head definitively, pushing him out of your arms. You’re not letting sex get in the way of your hard-earned vacation, you’re on company dime and you intend to milk every peso of it. “Namjoon, take him away!”

You blow him a kiss and follow another group who’s decided to go eat, watching your boyfriend get dragged away by Namjoon’s long arms. Krystal, who’s been mildly watching the whole ordeal in-between taking selfies, looks at you in awe, “You got it good, bosslady,” she says, and you happily link arms with her in the direction of the restaurants.

You and Jungkook definitely have it good. You don’t see him until dinnertime, looking utterly relaxed as he sips on a mango-muddled concoction. He must’ve gotten a couples massage with Namjoon, cute. Splitting up was definitely a good idea, by the time your meal arrives the two of you are practically leaning against each other, telling each other what events you need to do tomorrow and events you think will be fun to do together.

“Joon,” Jungkook is throwing an arm over your Wusband’s shoulder, mildly tipsy. The image is adorable, as Jungkook long ago previously confessed that he felt a little jealous of Namjoon’s work relationship with you before you were dating. Now, it feels like they’re best friends and you’re third-wheeling. “What do you think about having halo-halo tomorrow? It’s like bingsu but with a bunch of other good stuffs. There’s red bean, mango, ube, ice cream…”

Just as Jungkook begins his tirade of dessert ingredients, you pull up your phone to check on your social media. You smile back at your profile, seeing your latest Instagram post at the very top of the feed. Not to flex, but the two of you look pretty smokin’ since you’ve been keeping up with Jungkook’s insistence to join him at the gym. Jungkook and you are leaning against the pristine veranda, overlooking the clear blue water and a cloudless sky. The smiles you two sport are genuine and utterly in love.

You scroll down the comments, most of them filled with sweet messages but one of them has you doing a double take.

@sooyaaa__: 😒😒😒 knew something was goin on behind my back… good riddance

The smell of Jungkook’s detergent overtakes your nostrils, and you turn to him. He’s stopped talking, now immersed in whatever’s going on in your phone.

“The nerve of her,” Jungkook scrunches his nose, disgusted at her latest comment. “As if anyone would believe her.”

“Yeah,” you echo, “I feel bad for her, though. She’s probably lonely.”

“Her loss, she put this upon herself. Not us.”

You pout, “I know, but she was my friend at one point.”

He frowns, putting an arm behind your backrest. It would be easy for him to say yeah, and she was my girlfriend and one-up you, leaving it at that. But now he knows better, and that friendship is a much better value than an ill-fated relationship. “Sorry baby,” it’s not his fault, but he sees your disappointment in putting out hope for an old friend. He gives you a little smooch on your temple, “do you miss her?”

“The old her, yeah,” you sigh, clicking on her profile, “but now? I can do without her negativity.”

“Okay,” he takes your phone from your hand, “have you ever blocked a person before?”

“No.”

“Well, today’s the day,” he says it so coolly, you barely have time to think when he clicks the ‘block’ button on Jisoo’s profile, then clicking off his phone to put in his pocket. “No more phone for today,” he proceeds to take your plate that was recently served, taking the time to cut your large vegetables into smaller portions. “Like you said, we shouldn’t waste your vacation time.”

Your heart swells with butterflies for Jeon Jungkook, who’s meticulously cutting your food and telling you to relax and stop dwelling on the past. He’s right, if Jisoo’s not going to stick around for the future and continue to cause negativity in your life, why not keep the positives in the past while it lasted?

“You know I love you, right?”

He ceases cutting, and looks at you to pop a sweet potato in his mouth. “Love me enough to do it in the cabana?”

He’s still on that? “Jungkook,” you warn, pretending to get up, “forget I said anything. I’m gonna go karaoke with Umji.”

“Kiddingggg,” he whines, pulling you back down with an outstretched hand, “you know I love you too.”

“You’re terrible.”

“Only this way because I’d know you’d totally be into cabana sex if we were vacationing by ourselves.”

“Yes, but you’re still terrible,” you giggle when Jungkook steals a kiss, just as easy as he’s stolen your heart.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #gcn23 #goldenclosetnet #btsghostie #jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts fic #bts smut #a big weight is off my shoulders

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beforeoursunsets · 3 years

Note

aud. i'm so obsessed with literally EVERYTHING on your masterlist. ugh chefs kiss af. as for the request: since i haven't seen this trope on your account yet, what about some good ole amnesia? like one day draco gets wiped OUT by a bludger, wakes up, and forgets being in love with the reader. i just know you'd do this justice ILY

Amnesia - d.m

a/n: hiiii anon! tysm for the love you are so kind and i hope i didn't totally butcher this request!!! also im too tired to come up with an original title,, lol enjoy <33

house: slytherin

word count: 1.7k

warnings: just amnesia but idk if that counts, oh and a sorta open ending dont kill me

-----

You almost fell out of your seat, a cry escaping you as Draco plummeted nearly fifteen meters to the grass below. The astounding crack and thud sent the entire stadium quiet, Madam Hooch and her surrounding professors racing to the unconscious blond.

“Is he…” Pansy breathed, “...alive?”

Concern, etched on both of your faces, felt like a complete understatement compared to how you actually felt about the incident. Grabbing the coat you’d almost left behind, Parkinson followed along as you went straight for the infirmary.

Minutes later she had to slow down, unable to keep up with your running pace. Once she was finally able to catch up, Pansy found you bickering with Madam Pomfrey, begging her to let you inside the hospital wing.

“No you listen,” The matron scowled, “you can visit him tomorrow morning. Mr. Malfoy needs ample time to rest.” She said with finality.

You gave up, irritably walking towards your panting friend while dragging her back in the direction she had just come from. Tears stained your cheeks, but the weeping was gone momentarily, replaced with newfound disdain for Madam Pompfrey.

“She won’t tell me anything.” You complained, pacing in the Slytherin common room. “From what I know they could be embalming him right now!”

“Y/N, I think we both just need to relax right now. I don’t think Draco’s dead,” Pansy reassured you. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

After a long night of restless tossing and turning, you were out of bed the minute the sun rose. Thankfully it was a Saturday, and with no classes to attend you could spend the entire day in the hospital wing. Once you were inside, she would have to drag you out of there herself.

You pulled one of your boyfriend’s sweaters, holding it close to you as the cold morning air nipped your skin. With your best friend at your side, you pushed open the infirmary door, eyes searching for the injured boy.

Madam Pomfrey motioned for you to stay quiet, narrowing in her eyes as she did so.

You found Draco quickly, as he was the only other student in the room. His arm and left leg were bandaged up, his neck in a brace to hold it steady. The mere sight of him made your knees grow heavy, threatening to send you to the ground if you weren’t clutching onto his bed.

Pansy put a hand on your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you, “Hey, look, he’s waking up.” She whispered.

Slowly, his eyes opened, grimacing at the room’s lighting. Draco looked down at his hand entwined with yours, hesitantly recoiling it.

“Pansy? What’s going on?” He asked, his voice raspy.

You were almost taken aback. Never had you been insecure about his friendship with Parkinson, but it was like he didn’t even see you standing beside him. She looked almost uncomfortable, dealt with his awkward inquiry.

“One of the Ravenclaw beaters took you down with a bludger…” She prompted, trying to kickstart his recollection of last night’s quidditch game.

“Oh.” He responded simply.

“Are you serious?” You cut in, “You almost died and that’s the best you can say?”

Draco had finally made eye contact, looking back at you incredulously, “Why are you wearing my sweater?”

“And why is L/N even here?” He asked Pansy, turning away from you.

The matron picked up on the conversation, now concerned herself. “Miss L/N, I think it’s best for you to leave.”

“Of course I’m here, I’m your girlf--”

“I said, I think it’s best for you to leave.” She reiterated.

You were utterly confused, sending Pansy a look of near despair. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Leave. Now.”

After you had begrudgingly left the hospital wing, Pansy stayed behind as requested by Madam Pomfrey. Draco had seemed to recognize his friend, unlike you, who had only befuddled him.

She pulled your friend to the side, beginning to explain Draco’s condition now that you were out of sight. “I’m starting to believe that Mr. Malfoy here has suffered a brain injury after his fall. For how long have he and Miss L/N been together?” She inquired.

“Over a year,” She responded quickly.

Returning to his bedside, Madam Pomfrey began asking Draco a series of questions, trying to pinpoint how far his memory had recoiled. “What year are you in?”

“Fourth, obviously.” He drawled, “What does that have to do with anything?”

“And what was the last thing you remember?” She prodded.

“The goblet of fire,” Draco responded, “bloody Potter managed to cheat the damn thing.” He spat.

Pansy looked at Madam Pomfrey with concern, that had happened two years ago.

“Would anyone care to explain what bludger you’ve been blabbering about? And why has L/N stolen my jumper? Can someone tell me what’s going on!” Draco quickly grew frustrated by the women’s secretive conversations, demanding answers at once.

“Draco,” She began, “you’re a sixth year--and Y/N--she’s your girlfriend.”

-----

“What do you mean he doesn’t remember me?” You cried out in exasperation.

“He knows who you are,” Pansy explained, “he just has no memory of your relationship. It’s like he’s still a fifteen year old.”

Never had you imagined Draco could forget you so suddenly, so entirely. It was like one of your worst nightmares had sprung to life. “I need to talk to him.” You responded, getting off your bed.

He had been released from the hospital a few hours prior, now on strict bedrest. You knew he’d be in his room, and luckily, you had a key.

Unlocking his bedroom door, you knocked on the oak wood as it slowly creaked open, signalling that someone was there. “Draco?”

He was laying on top of his comforter, nose buried in his journal. Clearly he was trying to piece together the last two years of his life, your life together. You had hoped that something in there could possibly trigger his memory, a hope that would only set you up for disappointment.

“You can come in,” He spoke gruffly, his eyes still trained on the ivory pages littered with his handwriting.

You sat at the edge of his bed, the distance between him and you feeling so foreign. “I write about you a lot.” He almost chuckles, scanning one last entry.

“You really don’t remember?”

He shook his head regretfully, “No, I don’t.” He apologized, “But I really wish I did, honest. From what it looks like, I was seriously in love with you.”

I was, his voice repeated in your head. Who would’ve thought that one sentence could pierce your heart so deeply. “If it helps--” Draco piped up.

“I still fancy you, even now--or back then--I don’t really know how to talk about it.” He rambled, somehow eliciting a small laugh from you.

“Well I’m just happy to hear you confirm it, I’ve always had my suspicions about our timeline.” You smiled softly, the air filled with a bittersweet tension.

“You know, I can come back.” Getting back on your feet, you went for the door, suddenly feeling like an intruder.

Draco held a hand out to stop you, softly closing the journal to his left. “No, don’t go.” He pleaded, “I have so many questions.”

You sighed, tentatively sitting back down a few feet away. He cleared his throat, and by the look on his face Draco was actively trying to pull back a memory, any sort of recollection of you he could muster.

“How did it, you know, happen? Us, I mean.” He asked after a moment.

Fighting a smile, you replied with “Well, you and I both know we had fought since the moment you stepped foot in the common room, it wasn’t just two years ago.”

“How could I forget?”

“At the end of our fifth year you got into a bit of a tussle with Cormac again, something about how you were the only one allowed to bully me.” You laughed, “After that, I had my own personal bodyguard--on the rare occasions you were being decent.”

“People were messing with you? Why?” He asked, suddenly concerned.

“There were a lot of rumors going ‘round back then, most of them about my romantic affairs.” Rolling your eyes, you added “All about you, of course.”

Draco’s fallen smile was back and brighter than before, “Nice to know I’ve always been a nuance.”

“It wasn’t always that way.” You clarified, “We had some really good times, and no one--not even Pansy or Blaise--expected you to be such a romantic.”

He sighed, “I just wish I could remember it. It’s all there, I know it is, but no matter how hard I try the memories stay locked up somewhere.”

You moved closer, placing a hand over his, “Don’t worry about it, I’m sure they’ll come back sooner than later. Besides, I won your heart once, I have full confidence that I can do it again.”

“Did the part where I mentioned my current massive crush on you just fly right over your head?”

“How could I forget?” You mimicked, “I’m just glad you’re okay, Draco, your fall had us all freaked out.”

“Is it weird?” He asked out of the blue, “Talking to me?”

You thought about his question for a moment, as there aren’t enough words in the dictionary to describe exactly how it all felt. “It is weird, I suppose. Honestly, if anything I’m scared, scared that your feelings for me won’t be the same after the accident. I have all these memories of the last year with you and the only thing left of them is that journal of yours.”

“Believe me, I’ve read it.” He assured you, “The moment Madam Pomfrey released me I was practically glued to it.” Draco finally pulled you into a hug, the long awaited embrace feeling like a weight being lifted off your chest.

“It's awful to say, but I feel so lucky right now.” He mumbled into your hair, “I’m experiencing you all over again.”

taglist (link in my bio/nav if you want to be added): @gwlvr @thatsassyhufflepuff @dracoswhore007 @eunoniaa @darlingmalfoy @dracoscene

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princessamericachavez · 3 years

Text

YES HELLO CAN WE TALK ABOUT THAT FJORESTER HEART TO HEART?

THE WAY IT PARALLELED THE JELLYFISH TALK??

Fjord following Jester into trouble and momentarily doubting but eventually being like “I don’t care” because he would follow her anywhere even against his best sense

Both of them sitting there, looking out at the night ocean... like they did on a ship so long ago when Jester first opened up about her sadness.

And now she’s volunteering some of it again:

“Look, you have to see the moon from up here [...] This is where I used to come when, you know, I lived here and I didn’t really any friends. And I would dream about leaving the city and look out in the ocean and think about all the places I could go.”

Sigh

*breathes in*

SCREAMS

guuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuys

omg remember

“And then I don't know what. I want to explore the world. I want to see the lands we haven't seen. I want to find the things that people are scared of and solve them or do whatever anyone else needs to do. But-- I hope she's a part of that.”

I AM STILL SCREAMING I SWEAR

Anyway, we are just getting started but look at Fjord’s faces through this bit

Because that’s when he realizes that maybe... just maybe... Jester might want the same thing he does... maybe

And then, what does he do?

He diverts attention to something funny: her drawing dicks on the tower. Why? Because Jester is talking about something sad and Fjord wants nothing more than to cheer her up.

And then, wishfully, Jester brings up one thing that I’ve been thinking about ever since we found out these two coast kids had been in Nicodranas for years without knowing each other.

“I wonder if I was ever sitting up here and saw your ship go by even knowing”

“I bet”

Invisible String_Taylor Swift.mp3

okay but also

PLEASE GUYS

if any of you have any art skills and wants to give me that poetic image of younger Fjord and Jester, each looking up wishfully... she’s lonely and young and on top of that tall tower looking at the life she craves to live and Fjord is looking at the city full of homes like he’s never had and they are unaware that they are looking at each other’s future??

GUYS PLEASE C’MON

ok ok ok moving on so Fjord....

he brings up Vandran... awkwardly... nervous... stuttering about the whoel thing...

and his voice suggests that his optimism in Eisselcross was a front put to keep the others calm.

And then he says the magic words:

“Would you come with me?”

“Of course!”

Like he has to ask, please. Like she hasn’t followed him everywhere since the very first day they met. Like she wouldn’t follow him to the ends of the earth just like he has followed him through plunging falls and vertiginous heights above volcanos.

Still Fjord, deep down still that insecure kid who faked a whole personality for months, tries to give her an out.

“I don’t know if being on the sea is of any interest to you or if you want to stay in Nicodranas because you can now and I would totally understand.”

BOI HE JUST TOLD YOU THIS IS HER LIFE LONG DREAM

LITERALLY

STOP FREAKING OUT

“There’s... That is my favorite place to be. I love it out there.”

THE WAY SHE LOOKS OUT WITH JUST AS MUCH LONGING

“And I feel like there’s so much that we could see and share... Besides fucking Darktow is out there and we spent less that one day on it... That can’t stand”

LOOK AT THEM

THEY ARE SUCH A MESS AND SO CHAOTIC AND THEY ARE BOTH SO CURIOUS AND EXCITED FOR NEW ADVENTURES

Also, does his tone talking about that remind anyone else to the way he talked about the possibility of finding treasure to make Marion even fancier before she meets Jester’s father again???

Because I really feel like that’s the same mood.

The same longing for more while trying to make her laugh.

“I would love to go out there with you. I would love to meet Vandran.”

“We could make this our port.”

“We could make this our port”

“WE COULD MAKE THIS OUR PORT”

(sidenote this line alone could’ve sent me spiraling before they were canon... and still kinda does)

excuse me while i scream for the next ten minutes

And then Fjord drops the hint that he wants to still deal with some stuff in Port Damali

ONE SHOT WHEN TRAVIS

GIMME THAT ONE SHOT

YOU WANT IT

I WANT IT

WE ALL WANT IT

UKOTOA WANTS IT

I WANNA MEET SABIAN AND GO TO DARKTOW AND GO TO PORT DAMALI

PLEASE

“But... this city really is beautiful”

YOU DIDN’T HAVE TO SAY IT LOOKING AT HER LIKE THAT

AND YOU REALLY DIDN’T HAVE TO SAY IT LOOKING AT HER LIKE THAT JUST LIKE YOU DID WHEN YOU SAID THE JELLYFISH WERE BEAUTIFUL TRAVIS

AND YET HE DID

“There’s always a home for us here”

hey hey hey hey remember that Tarot reading and Fjord’s future card being “home/the traveler”??????

BECAUSE i do

IF I MADE A DRINKING GAME WITH SHOTS EVERY TIME THIS CONVERSATION had a throw back for the campaign I WOULD END UP LIKE VETH

“Or... maybe we could... you know... get our- our own place”

THE LOOK OF A WOMAN WHO JUST REALIZED THIS MAN WANTS TO MARRY HER (in paper graph again)

im sorry but the rest of the cast’s faces are too good to let out

And then Jester gets SO EXCITED THAT SHE CAN’T EVEN SPEAK

because this boy

this man

this man she loves

he wants to spend his life with her

this isn’t just a “come have adventures and fun with me” proposition

this is a “spend your life with me proposition”

and while she can’t talk of course Fjord panics

much like she did after the “i love you”

because these idiots are really made for eachother and still stumbling through their own confusing feelings for each other even after so long as friends and they are so afraid of screwing it up

But when finally she speaks, when Jester says “yes”... her tone isn’t just a “yes”... THAT YES SOUNDS LIKE AN “I DO”

And they are both so nervous and happy okay?

And then

OKAY LISTEN STRAIGHT OUR OF A ROMCOM

He looks at her

and she meets his gaze

and they both look down blushing

and then she looks at him first

and he meets her gaze

and they don’t look down this time, this time is steady... because they both know they love each other

“I’m really glad that everything happened the way it did”

“Yeah, me too.”

Good and bad. Tumbles and crushes and heartbreaks and deaths and tears and fights and laughter and adventures and doubts and confusion and longing and pining and protecting each other and fighting together and falling and rising and catching each other and healing each other and looking out for each other because it all lead to this... to this moment where they are together and so sure that they are loved and cherished and that this is where they want to be and there’s so much more in their future to look forward to

And Jester snuggles up to him and Travis does the tiniest move to show how he leans against her that just DESTROYS me

and of course Fjord needs to make a joke then, to lighten the mood, because these two disasters are friends first and foremost and is in their chaos that they understand each other

and they have so many adventures ahead

i love them so much you guys

im going to miss them so bad

i love them

oh god

#fjorester #fjord #jester lavorre #critical role #cr spoilers #ONE LAST OF THESE FOR OLD TIMES' SAKE?

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hollyhomburg · 4 years

Text

Sweet like Honey (Break like Glass) (KTH)

Summary: Taehyung knows there’s something wrong with his girlfriend; the way she can’t look at herself in the mirror sometimes or the countless other bad days. He makes it his mission to make her feel as beautiful as possible.

Tags: mentions of body dysmorphia, Self-esteem issues, Dysphoria, internalized self-hate, picnic dates, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, barely referenced eating disorder, angst over Taehyung being an idol, mentions of weddings, proposals, and wedding dresses, mentions of nudity and sexual scenes/themes.

A/n: This was mostly inspired by Taehyung in his green suit and my own experiences with my body. This is a relatively short and less descriptive than my usual au’s. don’t forget to comment and RB if you liked it! also my grammarly kinda crashed while writing this! so i apologize for more grammatical errors that usual.

Song rec: Electric love~ Pravi cover

W/c: 6.7k

- There is something wrong with Taehyung's girlfriend. With you- and Taehyung just can’t figure out what it is.

- Taehyung and you have been dating for a few years, though it was a little on and off in the beginning because of a few world tours. Now you live together, and every day Taehyung lives the fantasy of coming home to someone who loves him. You standing in his kitchen with Yeontan running around your feet begging for little bits of food.

- But The small things are always there; the way you look at yourself in the mirror with a hint of hate. The way you are always so particular about how clothing fits you and won't wear anything that properly shows off your curves.

- Sometimes you barely react when Taehyung puts his arms around your waist, bunching up his extra-large shirt that you sleep in. Taehyung loves the feeling of getting his hands on you, his palms so wide on your form. You have The kind of soft cuteness that makes him want to take you and hold you close and never let go. Sometimes in the mornings- he actually does pull you back into bed with him.

- But Sometimes, when Taehyung puts his hands on your waist you do freeze, he feels the way your body is taut and stiff like you’re trying to suck in or something. But when he looks at your face- he doesn't see any of the strain or anything else unpleasant or unhappy in your smiling face.

- Taehyung wishes you felt as comfortable with him as he feels with you.

- Tae would say that you’re both completely happy. Would say it- if he didn’t notice your insecurity sometimes. More than once He sees you excitedly set out an outfit on the bed. Getting dressed for something a little more interesting than sitting on your couch, only to see your expression fall the second that you see yourself in the mirror.

- Whatever's going on in your head- it hurts you, hurts that you don’t see yourself in the mirror the way that he does. other days you know before you get dressed, You’ll avoid looking at yourself in the mirror and instead ask him if you look okay.

- “Just turn around and see for yourself” he says- unthinking. More worried about getting to your destination on time. This time it’s a dinner with the rest of bts, a private room in a restaurant to celebrate the end of their last comeback. You aren’t going to be the only s/o or guest in attendance and you just wanted to make a good impression.

- Taehyung is more excited for a few days of break that will proceed the dinner than the dinner itself. Days that he will probably spend catching up on the sleep that he’s lost over the past few weeks and spending quality time with you. He realizes a moment too late when he looks back at you. A hand suspiciously rubbing at your cheek, a little damp. That dark- unhappy look fitting your face like a glove.

- You put a very baggy jacket over your dress and call it a day. During dinner you bunch it up in your lap like it will help cover you and say that your legs are just cold when Taehyung asks. But he isn’t fooled- though he was, a little, at the beginning of your relationship.

- When Taehyung first meets you he barely thinks that there’s something off about the way you view yourself. That revelation comes later once he gets to know you better. Taehyung dreams of a time when he’d known from the beginning, if only so that he could have started helping you with your body image sooner.

- When you and Taehyung first met you were both a little broken, both a little too lonely for words. Your type of loneliness that was left for rotten nights, the kind where you bunch up a blanket or a pillow just to have something to hold onto.

- When Taehyung first bumps into you at a bookstore You don’t outwardly look like the insecure type. Your cute glasses on your nose and your ankle length knit dress chic and oversized. You’d sat on opposites sides of a very long velvet couch to enjoy a coffee and a book in Taehyung’s favorite bookstore. A hair too close at your separate tables to be completely accidental.

- You look at the handsome stranger, (or at least you think he’s handsome- most of him is covered by a facemask) thinking that just maybe There was only one reason why he didn’t take the table by the window; that reason being a desire to be close to you. “Is that one any good?” you’d asked, voice rough and quiet in the empty cafe.

- When Tae looks over it’s to see your legs have been pulled up and underneath you- your shoes off and hidden under the table. Your stocking legs bare for him to look at and drink in. It feels too intimate for a stranger, but all at once in a moment, Taehyung daydreams of what your legs might feel like in his hands. And a little stirring in his gut says ‘oh- you like this- you like this one.”

- “The coffee or the book?” he asks, perplexed and trying not to lose his cool. all the stadiums in the world couldn’t unnerve him and yet- one pretty girl in a coffee shop has him worried, holding on to his coffee and book like it will anchor him. You smile like his response is some sort of secret. “Either is fine.”

- Running into each other at the bookstore turned into sitting close on one of the many velvet couches. Which turned into Tae inviting you to a different coffee shop with better coffee and fewer books so you could openly talk without fear of getting scolded.

- This leads to dinner dates and kisses and your back against his sheets in his apartments. Looking up at him like he’s still trying to tell you some sort of secret. You’re a secret that Taehyung just can’t figure out but wants too. And Tae has a feeling he could spend years getting to know you and still want you just as much as he did then- as he does now. Hovering on the edge of a relationship with you.

- What had started out as coffee dates, turned into hooking up and then when his life got busy again- late night booty calls where he was barely awake enough to properly reciprocate. Those nights ending when you woke up to his empty bed and a text on your phone thanking you for coming over so late. It’s kind, but it’s so formal you read between the lines. Assuming deep down- that Taehyung doesn't want any more than a late night booty call and an occasional friendship from you.

- Taehyung had just assumed you wouldn’t want a relationship with him if it had to be this way, every six months or so when he gets so busy he can barely find time to take a proper break let alone go on a date. You’d assumed he just didn’t want a relationship with you but you where already desperately in love with him and unwilling to let go of the little bit you had of his time. Even if you knew it was a little toxic.

- He still remembers looks back on that night often. Just after the comeback- he’d been strung out on that restless energy he often gets after they’ve finished. another cycle of their career. All keyed up with nowhere for his energy to go. It had been late into the night and nearly morning when you’d finished enjoying each others company. Taehyung leaning back against the pillows, so deeply stated that he felt the ache in his bones. Eyes already fluttering closed he’d reached out to touch you, only to find you not there already pulling up your pants by the door.

- And Tae’s serotonin and oxytocin high brain hadn’t been able to look past much more than your jiggling ass for a moment before he realized that fuck- you’re not staying. “What are you doing?” he’d asked, a little scathed, and you turned around like you were trying not to get your hopes up.

- “Going home to sleep? like i usually do?” Taehyung feels the stinging in his chest like a wound. Dreams of sleeping with his arm thrown over your waist, holding you close and trying to fit you into the lonely space in his chest- extinguished in a violent moment. (Tae had a feeling you’d fit there perfectly- and now to have you snatched out of reach feels like disappointment) “aren’t you just going to sleep here?”

-“Nah im kinda hungry” you lie. He shrugs not getting it “I could always make you breakfast in the morning,” his words are interrupted by a yawn, “or now?”

- “You don’t need too” “but what if I want to” all at once you’re frustrated. “Tae- what are we doing here?” you throw your jacked down with an upset humf, “we both know you’re not going to date a girl like me so why- why are you making this harder than you need too-”

- “hold on-hold on” he jumps out of bed, suddenly so awake that his heart is pounding. “who the fuck told you that i don’t want to date you?” Your hand hovers on the doorknob an inch away from your relationship being nothing, and Taehyung is brazen and unshy, nearly proving your point when he just gets out of bed all of himself on display. At least he has the good grace to pull on a pair of boxer shorts. “you mean? you do?”

- “Of course i want to date you!” he’s an inch away, and his large hands just barely brushes yours “you like all the same things as me, i love talking about books with you and cuddling with you and having you here when i get home- things have just been so busy lately- i didn’t want to make it feel rushed. but i do- i do want you to be mine unless you don’t want-”

- You’d hated how unsure he looked in that moment. Most of the time- you’re so unsure yourself that you forget how it must look to Taehyung. But in that moment you can see your own expression on his face, and you hate it there just as much as he hates it when it’s on your face.

- That night had ended with you soft in Taehyung's clothing, smelling like him. talking it through with him until the sun actually had come up. “I guess I just got so caught up in giving you what you wanted because I thought that was all I could get.”

- He touches you so delicately, his fingers stroking down the line of your throat as you talk so that he can feel the words in his fingertips as you say them. “tell me how I can be better- please, I want to be a good-” taehyung swallows against the hope in his throat. “I want to be a good boyfriend for you.”

- Your more giving nature didn’t stop there, and you were always determined to give taehyung more than you took in your relationship. Like your very presence in his life was enough of a gift in itself. But it’s something that Taehyung has always been able to see through. In the same way that you feel like you’re not enough for him. The same way he feels that he can’t give you everything you want or need. Like a date out in public or Anonymity if you were ever to take your relationship public.

- You’ve been mobbed more than once just because you came out of the same apartment complex he lived in. And even though no one knows you’re dating Tae besides those who know you personally, Taehyung fears that one day you’re going to want something he can’t give you.

- Like others he’d dated in the past. The girls (and one boy) who had all told him after a few months “either go public or we’re through” or gotten tired of not being able to partake in the same things all their friends did, like getting walked home or going out for dinner on a Thursday without making an expensive reservation. You were never like that.

- At the beginning, you’d just smiled when Tae had told you he couldn’t be seen with you out in public. You’d just given him a soft but understanding smile and volunteered your apartment as long as he brought his most comfortable pajamas to stay the night incase he got too drunk to drive home.

- Those nights, you’d often ended up drunk on the floor of your bedroom and Taehyung remembers looking down at you from above, his hand unintentionally wound in your hair. Somehow you’d ended up in his pajamas and he didn’t mind at all.

- “You know- I can’t give you a lot” it had taken Tae a long time to open up to you after his last break up, but then he’d felt the dizzying smoothness of your skin against his- more intoxicating that the alcohol. You’d giggled up at him, equally as drunk. “Just give me you, Tae, and that will be enough.”

- it was around then that Taehyung had made a promise to himself. He may not be able to give you everything a boyfriend should be able to give you. but he’d give you himself fully, and anything else he could give without endangering his career.

- Sometimes you can’t believe that you’re dating an idol- let alone someone as genuinely beautiful as Taehyung. Sure- knows one knows you’re dating him. But only someone who didn’t know your relationship would think he was just a status symbol or something. You don’t need to show each other off to know your love is real.

- Though you do partake in couple items fairly often- Taehyung has a certain love for things expensive. And he does like to spoil you in the small ways- accessories are the best for you- Taehyung knows they don’t trigger your body dysmorphia in the same way clothes do. He still has the first couple item you ever got- a beat-up scarf in coordinating colors, the edge of yours torn- hanging over the doorway that leads to your walk in closet. The fabric too worn to wear out normally.

- Early on- he’d fucked up and gotten you a skirt that was a size to small. He’d tried to help you into it, and helped you try and zip it up. But after a moment when it was clear the zipper wasn’t going to go over your hips (one of Taehyung’s favorite parts of you and the whole reason why he’d bought you the skirt)

- You’d slapped his hand away, and Taehyung had looked up- miffed for a moment but knowing he’d fucked up when he saw your eyes fill with tears. He’d apologized again and again, And you were careful to make sure he knew it wasn’t his fault but the skirt had ended up thrown to the back of the closet and shoved in a bag meant for donations.

- Now Taehyung knows Some days your body genuinely doesn’t bother you, but others you live a much more dire reality that you try to hide from Tae. he also knows that you don’t like talking about it. He might enjoy telling you the minute details of just exactly why Namjoon pissed him off today during practice and hashing it out again later when his temper has dissipated. But you don’t like to talk about your insecurities in so many words.

- Sometimes the words hover on the edge of his tongue because he should tell you that It genuinely doesn’t bother him when you flip flop between needing to spend hours of your time on your makeup and being okay with your face as it is. And if hours are what you need to feel okay then fuck- Taehyung will learn everything about how you like to do your hair.

- The other days when you change 5 times before it becomes clear that it’s not the clothes That's making you feel so distressed. your side of the closet torn apart. When you can’t meet Tae’s eyes when it feels like nothing fits you anymore. More than once you’ve decided that you don’t really want to leave the apartment if the only thing you feel comfortable in is a pair of his sweatpants and a baggy tee-shirt. Tae only wants to make sure you get what you need. You don’t need to hide your bad days from Tae.

- but Taehyung hates those unhappy days when there's not more that he can do than let you hide your body underneath the baggiest blanket possible on your couch. Calling to cancel your plans, and then join you there. You tell him he should go hang out with your friends without you but if you don’t go with him- there’s really no point.

- He knows it's just a little unhealthy- but he’d miss you the whole time and want to text you through all of it. And your friends would end up annoyed that Tae was on his cellphone. Better to spend the night here, even if you flinch when he touches you later that night.

- And really- he doesn’t mind at all, all of that stuff, it only makes him worried about you. The person he loves more than anything. And he tries to help you through the little things. Complimenting you whenever he can (and do it while being genuine so they don’t feel hollow to you) and feeding you from his own chopsticks at dinnertime. Gently gripping your chin in his hand and murmuring “it’s my job to keep you healthy.”

- for what it’s worth when Taehyung does have more free time than usual- he keeps track. More than once he’s had to worry and wonder if you’re actually eating anything when he’s not around. He looks for the evidence of a lie on your face and in the kitchen to see if it takes the form of untouched or spoiled food. gone before you could convince yourself to eat it.

- And even though he can’t find any evidence of this- the threat still lingers on the edge of his mind. He’s had his experience with unhealthy behaviors and he knows the starting signs.

- But it comes to a head one night when he sees you looking through a bunch of catalogs. You might struggle to find things that you feel comfortable in on your worst days but you do like to help Taehyung shop. It’s a game that you play. Competing to see which one of you can find the weirdest outfit or the strangest prints. Though you win more often then he does. Leaning over your computer to laugh and say “okay- but actually, it’s terrible and I want it and I don’t know why.”

- For as hard as your relationship can be- there are also countless moments of happiness, more than taehyung could ever properly appreciate. but god if he’s not going to try to treasure this love he has with you. The kind of love that's sweet like honey regardless of the broken glass mixed in.

- It’s one of your lazy day activities. Both of you sit on the couch under a fluffy duvet with matching glasses of wine. A drama playing in the back round. His hand alternating between hovering on your knee and reaching for his wine glass.

- Tae gets wrapped up in looking at a strange line of weird art neveauy Dress shirts and when he looks over he sees to his surprise- that you’re looking at dresses. These dresses are the long kind- the kinds that are white and flowy with beaded sleeves or shear mermaid designs, most in blush and cream tones.

- You notice him looking and quickly tilt your screen- but it’s too late he’s already asking to see. You’re shy but eventually, tae wrestles it away from you with a kiss and a chuckle- you complain that he almost made you spill wine on the couch. His eyes widen more as he clicks through your tabs of which there are eight. And he commits the name of the designer to memory Because these...these are almost like wedding dresses and you’ve never expressed much interest in Dresses like these.

- As if the drama you’re watching seems to fortel this conversation; this episode is the wedding episode. taehyung watches you as he checks through the tabs and you watch the bride and groom with a far away look in your eyes. As the characters go through the antics of losing their rings and the evil stepmother spilling wine onto the bride's white dress.

- When you do speak, it’s so soft that Taehyung has to lean in to hear it. your secret whispered into open air. “Sometimes it’s easy to think- that I’ll never get married. Get to wear a dress like that. It’s not that I don’t think you love me,” you’re quick to reassure him. his stricken expression melting away as his words die in his throat. “-or that you wouldn’t- won’t ever propose. And this isn’t me trying to guilt trip you into it either but-”

-Taehyung rubs a reassuring stroke down your arm. Your eyes locked on the dress on the screen, eyes so hungry and wanting but sad too like you know it’s futile to want something so simple. It’s so ordinary to taehyung but to you it feels unreachable. “Dresses like that- princess dresses and wedding dresses- are things that other girls get. Girls that have the perfect body and the perfect hair- the perfect everything. Things that I don’t see when i look in the mirror.”

- Taehyung is soft when he touches you, guiding you to set your wine and your computer away, closing the screen too so that the picture of the dress goes away too. Leading you to sit across his lap. Touching your face gently like you’re the most beautiful thing that’s ever graced his fingertips.

- “That’s what they get and i-” you rest a hand on your chest and for a moment- Taehyung can see how much it just aches. Whatever hole has been left in your heart by your trauma, Tae feels it as keenly as you do. “I get to feel like this all the time.”

- Feelings of powerlessness fill him up. He wishes he could make you feel as beautiful as he views you- but he knows that the words of another only do so much. But he can’t say nothing He feels so tongue tied. he’s so painfully aware that he might say something that just makes you feel worse. he swallows through the lump in his throat. “I know this won’t make it any better, but I think you’re beautiful, and you deserve the world- and all the pretty dresses you want.”

- He bites his lower lip, mindful of not making promises he Doesn’t know if he’ll be able to keep. He’d propose to you right now if he thought it would magically make you feel better but he doubts that would fix the issue. Your self-esteem issues run deeper than that. through wounds that are older than your relationship and too deep for Taehyung to heal with a few words. He touches your face softly “let me try- to make you feel as beautiful as you are to me” his kisses get hotter and you return them “let me try” he promises.

- That night you make love on your couch and for that moment of ecstasy you let yourself believe you’re worth the touch of Kim Taehyung. That alone is something that’s hard for you to believe every day. And you try to compensate for the ways that you feel lacking sometimes in the worst ways. he still doesn't like to think of the beginning of your relationship for that reason.

- but Something about that day with the wedding dresses weighs on him though, bothers him in a way he just can’t articulate. And it’s not until he confesses to Jungkook about what happened and how he feels strangely futile about the whole thing, that Jungkook gives him the simplest answer.

- “If she wants to feel beautiful in a wedding dress hyung, why don’t you just buy her the dress?” Taehyung starts to try and backtrack but Jungkook shakes his head. “I didn’t say marry her- just dress her up like you are and take her out on a date- make sure she knows beforehand. But there’s no reason why you can’t make her feel like a princess.”

- So Taehyung does just that- picks out a dress not unlike one of the ones that you mentioned you liked. Layers of lace and delicate tulle, perfect for you. Yes it’s from a wedding line but it is more of a light dust pink. A dainty and dreamy color perfect for the day that he aims to create. He double and triple checks your measurements because the dress is made to fit and he doesn’t want to repeat the skirt experience.

- Your actual date is a picnic set out on a thick knit blanket on a hill overlooking the ocean. He gets the picnic basket made for you by a restaurant. Delicate pastries filled with sweet meats, freshly cut figs and sweet berries and fruits. More than you could logically both eat in a sitting but sue him- Taehyung likes going a little overboard. All paired with your favorite bottle of wine. Wildflowers and delicate blooms too- all set out on the blanket.

- He Gets you booked for a private appointment at a hair stylist and makeup artists and surprises you. Tells you to keep your Saturday open for him, you level him with a look over dinner. “What are you planning kim Taehyung?” he smiles into his glass. “I guess you’ll just have to wait and see princess?” you raise your eyebrow at the unintended and unusual term of endearment and let it slide as he pales at the unintended slip up.

- At first you’re a little skeptical- this isn’t the first surprise date he’s planned (and it probably won’t be the last). So you humor him with a small smile when he sits you down in the stylist’s chair late Saturday. You face away from the mirror, the stylists under orders to keep your look hidden from you until they’re done.

- before you start, He puts his hand on the back of your chair and leans in to press a quick kiss to your forehead “are you okay here while I go and get things ready?” the stylists buzz around you spoiling you with mimosas and fruit too, making sure you’re comfortable before they start. Tae really did bring out all the stops for this.

- You are okay with this, or at least you think you are until you finish with your hair and makeup- you can feel it, the layer of the expensive products on your skin and the faint burning in your hair as they set your hair in delicate fairy like curls, small pins with little flowers that you see out of the corner of your eyes, you see the swatch of red on the lip brush when they paint your mouth- and it starts to feel like too much when they lead you to a changing room- and you see the dress hanging on the hook.

- “She won’t come out Mr. Kim.” one of the assistants informs him when Taehyung comes back to get you. Everything is set up, the weather is perfect, the flowers in the field blooming when Taehyung stopped by to make sure that everything was all set out. Jungkook is in place too- ready to be your private photographer.

- That’s the little surprise- since Taehyung hopes you won't see him if he manages to hide well in the bushes and snap photos while you have lunch and lounge in the grass. Jungkook promised to leave if it looks like things where about to get steamy. And thinking about the dress- Taehyung can't say that’s not a possibility.

- There is something incredibly alluring about the idea, hiking up your delicate skirt. The way it might just look if Taehyung had you pull the thin straps down. Getting you out of it just enough to slip close to your warmth. you could even rollplay it- Taehyung some night who had no business touching someone as beautiful and you; a princess so sweet and ethereal hidden in some forgotten stretch of palace garden. Like something out of the stories you used to both read when you were just inches away in a coffee shop.

- But right now all he wants to do is make sure you’re okay as he barely calls your name before he rushes through the satin curtain in to see you. Sitting on the velvet poof in nothing more than a silk robe, leaning your head on your hand as you look at the dress with more than a little apprehension.

- He’s polished himself up since he saw you- his dark green suit the perfect color swatch against the dusty pink of the dress. you turn to see him and tae- oh Tae is in love with the way that they’ve outlined your lips like two petals of a perfect rose. The faint sparkle that dusts your cheeks. Taehyung’s whole body thrums as he looks at you.

- “Taehyung” even the way you say his name is a question, “why did you get me all dressed up like this?”

- Taehyung lets out a deep shaking breath, taking your hands in his, “im not proposing to you today,” is the first thing he says, and he can tell the words shock you a little- that can’t have been a thought far from your mind. But he presses on before he can get too nervous to continue.

- “But the other day- when you talked about never getting to feel pretty- like a princess. I wanted to give you that. Even if we never get married- or at least can’t for a while- you deserve to feel as beautiful as a bride on her wedding day every day and I guess-“ he stumbles forward over the edge of a carpet and you catch him a little. His large fingers tumbling through your small ones. tangling and untangling. “I guess I just wanted to be your groom for a day too.”

- “So you thought you’d take me out on a date and get me all dolled up for what?” Taehyung can tell you got the idea of what he’s going for now, a small smile tugging at your lips and Taehyung feels like he’s won a prize. He nudges your shoulder with his; leaning close like it’s a secret, “I even have a picnic basket.”

- You giggle at his wink and Tae directs you to the dress. But you kick him out. The stylists give him a look, shuffling around with their things and cleaning up. But he holds up his hands. “Apparently I’m not supposed to see her until the grad reveal” they nod- like this is some sort of unspoken rule but sue him- Taehyung wants to see you look pretty in the dress he picked out.

- Taehyung thinks he’s prepared to see you in the not-wedding- wedding dress- but he’s not. You knock the breath out of him. The shade of your lipstick the same tone as your dress just more saturated. It fists you better than Taehyung dreamed it would. And truly- you look like a princess at a ball- or at the very least a fairy.

- Taehyung holds out his hand, The picture of a gentleman. You still look unsure, but you take his hand anyway. You stop when you see yourself in the mirror. Unable to believe that really you look this different in makeup, but the makeup artists really are talented. You look ethereal. The blush on your cheeks just enough to feel like a natural flush. Your lashes long and pillowy and thick, your lips bitten looking and buttery red pink.

- You walk up to the glass and touch the surface, certain for a moment that this really is a fairytale and you have fallen down the rabbit hole like Alice. You don’t say anything, and neither does Tae- he just takes your hand and spins you under his arm, your dress flares out around you- swishing with the heavy weight of many layers of fabric and tulle. And you let yourself fall into his arms like some damsel and tae your knight in his swept back golden hair.

- “I’m going to buy you every dress like this in the world if it makes you smile like this my love” normally he wouldn’t refer to you as my love- but today- when everything is a fairytale- it almost feels fitting. You are smiling, and you give yourself another long look in the mirror before you turn on him. Dimly aware that some of the makeup artists are swooning at the picture you paint.

- for once, you have to admit- you look well matched.

- “I was promised a date Kim Taehyung” you say, a smile toying at the edge of your lips. Taehyung holds out his hand, bowing at the waist. “It would be my honor of having you accompany me Ms. Y/l/n.”

- “That’s ‘your highness’ to you” and both of you can’t help but let out a giggle at the ridiculous farce. Your ‘chariot’ is nothing more than Taehyung’s car. The one you’re used to taking. And the drive isn’t all that far away. an hour at most.

- Far below- the ocean turns the sea spray and distant rumbling the only clue to the shore below you. You almost want to swoon at the picture that Taehyung had set up, flowers laid out on the white blanket, food and other things, a Bluetooth speaker set up playing soft music. Taehyung makes sure to lay out the food. And feed you mouthfuls of sweet figs that taste sweeter when he licks the juice off of your tongue.

- After lunch Taehyung takes a few polaroid’s of you. Because even if Jungkook is doing what he promised, Taehyung still wants ones that are taken from his hands. He gets a few of you, stretched out against the white blanket, your arched enticingly without your shoes on, discarded in the grass. It could be a boudoir photo-shoot with the way it makes Taehyung’s mouth go dry, if not for the way the lace clings to your body. Covering the bits Tae wants to see. His hands hot and heavy on your calf, and sliding up.

- He thinks of actually doing a boudoir photo-shoot with you, considers the likelihood of you agreeing to it. he imagines your body bare against heavenly silks, hips hiked up to show off the curve of your ass. one day- Taehyung will convince you to model for him that way. Even if he suffers through the whole thing feeling as strung out as he does now.

- After lunch you take the stairs down to the water's edge and take your shoes off. Running in the sea spray, Taehyung gets a few more photos of you like that. Laughing at a joke he’s said, holding your dress up and out of the water. Collecting little shells that you shove into the pocket of his suit.

- All in all- by the time you get back up the rocky staircase and back to clean things up- your lipstick is kissed off your mouth, you have sand in the bottom of your shoes, and you smell more like sea spray than expensive perfume. But you feel pretty and delicate in a way that you’ve never felt before. And you’re certain that it’s all because of Tae. Taehyung’s used up all of the rolls of film that he brought- and he’s sure jungkook has too. between the two of them they’ve probably taken over 300 photos of you.

- “Did I do a good job today?” Taehyung asks on the drive home, always a good sucker for some good old words of affirmation. Stopping for fast food because- what his princess wants- his princess gets. “The best” you say. Head tipped back against the seat, already looking sleepy, Taehyung’s suit jacket pulled across your shoulders. “You really are my prince charming Tae.

- And he is- even if the dragon that needs slaying in one firmly locked inside of your head. Taehyung will help you defeat it, even if it takes 100 days and 100 different dresses.

- Taehyung ends up buying you more dresses. Every color. And your new game becomes finding more of them. taehyung collects pointlessly pretty things to make you feel more beautiful, and he loves every moment of it.

- When the photos come back from Jungkook (a secret they had actually managed to keep) your eyes go wide as you take in the photos, so much clearer than the ones that tae had taken on his polaroid camera. You paint a gorgeous picture together, him in his green that matches the grass and you- as delicate as the flowers around you.

- But your favorite thing about the photos- isn’t how you look (though you have to admit for once- that you did look beautiful) it’s the way Taehyung is looking at you. He’s looking at you like he’s aching, like It hurts to be parted from you even an inch.

- There is one series of three photos that you like the most. Where you’ve closed your eyes and are leaning back in the sun and his hair is shining, one moment he’s not holding your hand and he’s frowning, looking so jaggedly honest and thoughtful, and then next your hand is in his and he’s smiling brighter than the sun.

- You hang the photos in your living room. And next to the other photos you have, you don’t look nearly as happy as you do in those. It’s your smile that's different. When you look at the polaroids that tae’s taken of you. You’re smiling at him behind the camera, and you think even if it weren’t for the makeup and the dress- you still think you’d look beautiful in the photos.

- happiness- the kind that comes unburdened by insecurity- looks good on you, and if you can get that by love- by being in love and being loved with your pain instead of despite it, then it’s all the more beautiful.

- you go on more ‘pretty dates’ as you like to call them. and Taehyung watches you change slowly- but it’s for the better. As you don’t shy away from your reflection, wear longer dresses and prettier things without thinking. Wear that shade of lipstick again, and even go out wearing nothing at all on your face and seem not to feel anything. Taehyung knows it’s a struggle some days still- and yet you make it look so effortless.

- it's the worst when tae comes home and he finds whatever outfit you picked out for yourself already hung back up- and he’ll whine and beg you to put it on again until you eventually concede. Capturing them in black and white, in technicolor, in isolated swatches of red and blue. he loves taking pictures- especially if theyre of you.

- The picture wall gets added to in the future, until there is no more space in your living room. You call taehyung an obsessive flirt when he insists on hanging them up and he calls you his muse. You go on more not wedding wedding dates. And it’s no surprise to either of you when one-day someone- a fan spots and you soon pictures of you are plastered all over the internet- stories about a secret wedding between taehyung and a mystery girl.

- And in the end- it doesn't feel like you give up much with the unintended outing of your relationship. Taehyung couldn’t take it back even if he wanted to and he doesn't. now he gets to hold your hand and go out in public. “No- we’re not married yet. But we have been dating for a while so please respect our privacy.” He tells the reporters when he gets ambushed. And after a few stressful months where you lean into each other more than ever, things calm down.

- You have to be a little more secretive after that, careful when and where you plan your ‘pretty dates’ or so Taehyung has liked to call them. A sudden rush of seaside weddings this season makes that difficult and is entirely due to you and your pictures. it seems that you have become an unintended trend setter. the dress you wore selling out too.

- The hits of his love are always there, in every photograph, in every dress that appears in your closet, in ever tender moments. other hits are there too- hints of more love to come. when Taehyung asks you out for another pretty date, careful to make sure you get your hair done and your nails too. His nervousness written all over his face and his actions.

- And when you find a ring box, hidden in the pocket of one of Taehyung’s sweatpants the morning you’re supposed to go on your date, You’re not surprised in the slightest.

- You keep your discovery a secret. After all you only have a few hours to wait.

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Kofi

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