#wait what the heck when did this reach 7k

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐒

pairing: joel miller x webcam model!f!reader

genre: no outbreak AU, explicit smut (like very explicit), minors dni

word count: 7k

summary: you and joel continue to see one another, no matter the distance. And finally, you two breach the subject of "what are we".

warnings: joel is still bi in this, minor angst in the beginning, live stream sex, piv, messy titjob, dirty talk, possesive!joel, squirting, a hint of jealous joel, good girl/sir, praise kink

a/n: this work was commissioned by the lovely @trauma-dol 💜 thank you so much for commissioning me, I appreciate it lots!

part two of ravish

There are a lot of things you don’t like. The smell of roasted chickpeas, for instance. While others might find it inviting, it's just an odd scent that doesn't sit right with you. Then there's that annoying feeling of needing to pee right after you've gotten all cozy in bed. The list just goes on. You can think of a million things that annoy the heck out of you. 

However, waiting for someone that you’ve been eager to see for months to arrive at your doorstep might be the thing you hate the most. 

Worry bubbles up within you, and you can't help but sigh as you reach for the phone. Joel was supposed to arrive a good thirty minutes ago. 

Excited to see him, you had spent time chopping up an assortment of fresh vegetables – plump tomatoes, vibrant bell peppers sliced into perfect rings, and red onions thinly shaved and ready to caramelize into sweet perfection.

Besides the cutting board, a bowl of freshly shredded mozzarella cheese sits in fluffy mounds, ready to meld and melt into gooey goodness. Fragrant basil leaves are waiting to be scattered over the final creation. The pizza dough had been carefully prepped and now resting. 

But alas, there’s still no sign of him. 

“Dammit Joel, where are you?” 

You knew you should’ve just picked him up from the airport. You should’ve just ignored his protests and gone. New York is a big city; he could’ve gotten himself lost. Or worse, someone might’ve tried to kidnap him, rob him—sure, he’s a big man, but this is New York City.

It had been a hectic month. After you moved back from your family home, the issue of whether or not the relationship should continue had been a hot topic of sorts. For a while, you both decided to embrace the idea of "not putting a label" and simply being together during your visits. However, that proved to be too complicated. Losing yourselves in each other during every visit didn’t really allow for anyone else to come in between.

Not that you were complaining. You really liked Joel and didn’t really have any desire to date anyone else. Joel had enamored you completely. It was hard to keep it casual when all you wanted was him. But clearly, Joel didn’t want anything serious. He was content with how things were. 

The thought made your heart sink painfully in your chest. 

You tried to visit each other once a month, although most of the time it ended up being once every two months. He still joined your live streams. And when your viewers realized you were more than happy to indulge in JMiller’s requests, they started to get suspicious, commenting and teasing relentlessly. That meant you had to ignore him for a bit, which you hated doing. 

You did enjoy the punishments that followed though. 

A sudden buzz pulls you away from memory lane. Looking down you see a text from Joel, prompting your smile. 

Almost there, honey. You weren’t kidding about the traffic. 

“Dork,” you grin. Your head falls back against the back of the couch. You’ve missed him and now that he’ll be here soon makes you all giddy. Dormant butterflies erupt in your chest. Just the thought of him is enough to excite you. For an entire week, Joel Miller is yours. You had planned out everything. Not a minute will be wasted. Not on your watch. 

Twenty minutes later, there’s a knock on the door. You practically jump off the couch and run toward the sound. When you open it, you’re breathless, the tiny hairs at the back of your neck standing with attention. 

It’s him. 

He’s here. 

His eyes are tired, the crinkles you love to kiss deepening with his wide smile, “Hey there, sweetheart,” he says. “Miss me?” 

You jump towards him and wrap your arms around his neck. You hear the “oomf” that vibrates from his chest as you tug him impossibly close, forcing him to lean over you. Joel’s hands find the dip of your waist, squeezing tenderly, his nose bumps affectionally into the crook of your neck, and heat gathers under your skin. 

“God I missed you,” you say, voice trembling. Desperately you hold his face and bring him to your lips. His tongue traces the seam of your mouth, the movement dripping with a need for authority and control. You happily give it to him, opening wide. He sucks the air from your lungs and swallows your moans. Slick gathers between your legs, the fabric of your underwear clinging to your cunt and asking for the stretch of his cock. 

Joel guides the roll of your hips, chuckling darkly into your mouth when you desperately rub yourself against the denim. A shudder rolls up your spine. His cock firming under his jeans, “Honey,” he rasps. “Maybe we should close the door first?” 

“Why?” you say with a hitch of your breath. You drag your lips down his neck, nip at his racing pulse. “I know the neighbor wouldn’t mind. He watches my streams.” 

You’d said it without a second thought, which might’ve been a mistake on your part. His muscles grow rigid under your palms, the heat melting quickly like ice under the hot summer sun. “Is everything okay?” you ask, cupping his cheeks and forcing his gaze up. 

His gaze stays on you only for a moment before he drops his eyes to your lips. Your brows furrow at the reaction. His eyes are clear like a sky before a storm. Obviously, he has the question he wants to ask already locked and loaded but refusing to pull the trigger. He lifts his hands, the width of them blanketing yours as he pulls them down. 

“Just tired,” he sighs. He’s saved by the loud grumble of his stomach, the tension breaking. “And hungry,” he adds with a crooked smile. You force a smile and ignore the trembling of your bottom lip. Joel’s tone might be playful but it does little in calming your nerves. Moving away, the chill you feel on your skin is instant. 

“I prepared most of the ingredients,” you say. “I thought pizza and wine?” 

“We’re in the birthplace of the dollar pizza and you made it homemade?” 

You giggle at how comically wide his eyes are. “Well forgive me for not wanting to feed you the cheapest thing available,” Joel’s lips touch your temple, warmth blossoming where his mouth brushes against. “And I thought it would be fun.” 

“It will,” he murmurs. “I’m not used to bein’ pampered I guess. Only Sarah cares about what goes down my gullet.” 

“Hmm I don’t recall saying it was due to the consideration of your health,” you tease, fingers tiptoeing from his arm to his shoulder. He shivers at the touch. “Maybe, I just want to see what these strong hands can do with some dough.” 

His mere grin manages to send ripples of pleasure down your spine. Something dark and wicked crosses his face and you let out a shaky sigh. “Brat,” he teases. 

With a cat-like grin of your own, you close the door. 

Joel stands before the kitchen counter, the soft glow of the overhead light accentuating the contours of his figure. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing sinewy forearms that glisten with a slight sheen of flour. The muscles beneath his sun-kissed skin ripple as he reaches for the dough, his biceps forming a subtle bulge with each purposeful movement.

With a focused expression, he takes the smooth, slightly elastic dough in his hands. The material yields to his touch, supple yet resilient. As his strong fingers sink into the dough's yielding embrace, you can't help but admire the way he handles it. His touch is both firm and gentle, his hands a testament to years of construction work that have endowed him with strength and dexterity.

The dough stretches and folds, responding to his guidance with grace. His hands move with an almost mesmerizing rhythm, kneading and pressing, coaxing the dough into a state of perfection. The occasional wisp of flour dances in the air as he works.

You watch, entranced, as Joel's fingers work their magic. The concentration etched on his face, the way his lips quirk up in a faint smile as he loses himself while doing so makes your heart race.

As he works, you find your own fingers involuntarily tracing the outline of your wine glass.

"Enjoyin' the view, honey?" Joel's voice rumbles, breaking through the silence. You quickly set the wine glass down and begin to babble something in response, your words stumbling over each other. But before you can complete your sentence, Joel grips your wrist, pulling you toward him. Your back is flush against his solid chest.

His scent of pine and undeniable masculinity, surrounds you, intoxicating your senses as effectively as the wine you had been sipping. The shift in the atmosphere is palpable, charged with an electricity that sends shivers down your spine.

Joel's hands find yours, and he guides them to rest above the dough, his touch sending a jolt of awareness through you. “I’m the guest why the hell am I doin’ all the work?” His fingers intertwine with yours, his calloused skin brushing against your more delicate touch. Your heart beats in sync with the rhythm of his kneading.

Kneading the dough together, you feel a growing pressure against your lower back. It takes a moment for you to realize – his erection, firm and unmistakable, pressing against you. The realization sends a rush of heat to your cheeks, and your breath catches in your throat.

His hand drops to your waist, guiding the grind of your hips. You feel him as the dress you’re wearing dips between your asscheeks, clothed cock parting the two gently. A soft growl rumbles in his chest, the tremble of it felt against your back. Your focus has shifted. The dough forgotten entirely. 

“You’re makin’ cookin’ really hard, sweetheart.” 

You manage a breathless chuckle, "Oh, and whose fault might that be, Mr. Master Dough Kneader?"

He snarls into your ear, hot breath causing goosebumps. “You really are bein’ a brat today. Is there a special occasion for that?” 

Honestly, being a brat really wasn’t your objective. It just. . . sorta came out. You reveled when Joel took control, be it face-to-face or during streams. There’s always something primal lingering under his touches, his words. You roll your hips, cutting his breath short, you feel the length of him being dragged down between the plump flesh of your ass. 

“I just want to make you happy,” you say surprisingly soft. When you attempt to rub against him once more, he stops you, both hands now on your waist, squeezing you in warning. 

“You do make me happy,” he breathes out. His voice is deep, slivering down your back. Heat pools between your legs and you lean into his warmth. “Why would you say that?” 

“Forget it,” You hadn’t expected him to take it so seriously. Worry begins to inflate your chest, heat rising to the tips of your ears and making you short of sight. You attempt to reach for the tomato sauce, making sure to drag the plumpness of your behind against the heft of his cock in order to eradicate the moment. You don’t want him to think too much about it. Or decide that what you have—whatever it is—isn’t worth it. 

The pads of your fingers brush against the smooth surface of the bowl but you can’t reach it. Not quite. Joel turns you over, hands between your waist and the sharp edge of the counter. Frustrated, you fill your cheeks with air and shoot him a glare. “Seriously, it’s nothing, Joel.” 

“No it ain’t,” he snaps silently. “Why would you stress about makin’ me happy?” 

He scoffs at your silence, “What? You think I’m just passin’ the time by comin’ here? That if it’s not worth my time I’ll just leave?” he asks, baffled. Your gaze drops to the granite floor, bottom lip sucked between your teeth. Joel’s eyes go wide, bushy eyebrows almost touching his hairline. “Wait you actually think that?” 

You remain silent. 

“Sweetheart. . .” he shakes his head and pinches your chin, pulling your gaze back up. He looks concerned. Remorseful. You try not to think about your pulse skyrocketing under your skin, try to ignore the skip of your heart. “You really think I’m that shallow?” 

“No,” you answer suddenly, the need to defend him to himself burrowing in your chest. “It’s not that. I just. . . I don’t know. I’m confused I guess.” 

“‘bout what?” 

His thumb draws slow circles on your cheek, you close your eyes, heart and chest suddenly light as air. You could float if you had the capability. You nuzzle his hand like a hurt animal, begging for more of his touch. 

“I really really like you, you know.” 

“I really like you too, honey,” you ignore the way his words and smile make your skin prickle with delight. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.” 

You sigh, you’re stuck between the constant worry and the comfort he’s providing. Despite being known as a chatterbox, you’re having trouble finding the words. 

“I know that me streaming isn’t. . . conventional but I’m not seeing anyone else. I don’t even do private streams anymore,” your eyes flit between his eyes, trying to get a read of whiskey-colored eyes. Fear coats your tongue upon noticing his lips are a thin line—definitely not a good sign. “And well. . . I don’t plan on seeing anyone else either because. . .” 

You melt in relief when his lips finally crack into a small smile, “Because you really really like me?” 

“Precisely,” you say a bit loud and excited. “And of course, I don’t want you to feel pressure but. . . are you seeing anyone?” you clear your throat. “B—Besides me, that is.” 

“Well. .  . sometimes I watch CammingBravo when he’s streamin’.” 

“Joel!” you huff out a laugh and playfully smack his chest. “You know that’s not what I meant.” 

Adoration dots over his face, the corner of his eyes wrinkling with his smile. You love it when he teases you. Love it even more when he just stares at you with blatant amusement. The expression doesn’t linger long though. Like a small flame under rain, it sizzles out, his demeanor changing suddenly. 

His brows furrow, a crease you so desperately want to kiss away forming between them. Joel’s jaw ticks, the muscle above it twitching. He inches closer until your foreheads are pressed together, snug. Your heart is beating with rapid thumps, your breath caught in your throat.  

“I’m not seein’ anyone else either,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “And I’m not planin’ on seein’ anyone else either.” 

“R-Really?” 

He nods, “I want you, sweetheart. Completely. I don’t care what you do on your streams as long as you’re mine when the camera shuts off.” 

Your smile is instantaneous. It’s not like you planned on streaming for the rest of your life, arrangements could be made to make him more comfortable. And you had stopped collabing with Dieter ever since Joel came into the picture—though, now that you knew Joel watched the fallen-from-grace actor’s streams. . . you were getting ideas. 

Joel nudges you with the tip of his nose, smiling, yet still hesitant, “Say somethin’ will you?” 

“So, we both want to be exclusive?” you grin. “That’s what you’re saying?” 

“Reckon, I am,” he answers with a snort. He parts his lips to say more but you beat him to it, covering his mouth with your own. The kiss is long and sweet. It feels like a first kiss in a way, even though you have kissed Joel many many times before.

“Come on now, let’s get these ready and pop them into the oven,” his grin is wide as he pinches your ass, you jump with a yelp and he laughs. When you fix him a half-hearted glare, he only winks. The simple action makes your insides clench. “I’m starvin’.” 

The next day, you take Joel to your favorite coffee shop. They make the best bagel sandwiches and you’re eager for him to try them out. He gets the classic bacon, egg, and cheese, and you order the avocado BLT. You offer to pay, but Joel being Joel, he quickly distracts you by dragging his lips from your temple to your cheek, swiftly taking out his wallet.

You give him a look of pure betrayal. If you were wearing pearls, you’d be clutching them by now. “Joel Miller,” you say, aghast. “How dare you use your charm for evil?” 

His laughter fills the air as he hands his credit card to the barista, his broad chest rising and falling with each boisterous sound. Your lips twitch into a smile as he cups your waist, pulling you close. His lips touch your ear and heat warms your cheeks. “Sorry, honey. I can’t always use my powers for good.” 

All you can manage is a short nod. Your senses narrow on the way his breath ghosts your skin, warm and soft like a summer breeze. For a second you forget about the bagels and the coffee shop, all you can think of is him; his body, his voice, his scent—arousal pulses between your legs. If you were positive the two of you wouldn’t get arrested for public indecency, you’d let him take you against this very counter for everyone to see. 

“Come on now,” he teases, reading your expression easily. “I got the goods, let’s find ourselves a good table.” 

Alas, he really was holding a tray in his hands. You have no idea when the barista finished making your order. Either you’d been fantasizing for too long or you had one hell of a barista. 

The two of you stand awkwardly in the middle of the coffee shop and look around. You notice a couple of people staring you down, their gazes fixed on you, some of them even being bold enough to do the old-fashioned up-and-down. You quickly divert your gaze and point toward a table right next to the large windows. Frankly, you’re used to the staring. They rarely came up to you since no one wanted to be the one known for enjoying porn. Especially in public. Most of the time they’re harmless. 

Walking towards your table, you cheat a glance at Joel. If he did notice the looks, he didn't say anything. He made no indication of discomfort or anything of the sort. Relief sprinkles over you, maybe the looks weren’t as obvious as you initially had thought. 

Joel took a seat and you sat across from him, he shot you a look before reaching for his black coffee, “Everythin’ alright?” 

“Yeah,” you clear your throat, trying to keep your nerves in check. “Why wouldn’t I be?” 

Just as he opens his mouth, you notice someone approaching in your peripheral. You hold your breath, eyes dropping to the bagels. The person, whoever it was, just stands at the end of the table. You feel the stranger’s eyes eating you up. Fuck, of all the times why now? 

“May we help you?” you hear Joel say, his tone the complete opposite of his words. When you look up at him from between your lashes, he’s staring at the stranger, the look dancing on the line of being a full-on glare. You take a slow breath and turn. 

It’s a young-ish man with blonde hair and brown eyes. Your first expression of him is that he seems kind. He doesn’t acknowledge Joel’s presence at all which you find impressive. Even across from him, you can feel the heat of his stare. 

“Hi,” the man says kindly. “S-Sorry to bother you but are you Honeysuckle? On Ravish?” 

Joel visibly bristles at that. And, despite your better judgment, it turns you on. 

“Yup, that’s me,” you let out an awkward chuckle. He extends a hand and you quickly take it, wanting this to be done as soon as possible. 

“I love your streams!” 

“Thank you,” you smile with tight lips. “I appreciate your support.” 

“Can I get a picture?” 

Briefly, your gaze flits to Joel, a shadow crosses his face, eyes dark in warning. Your breath hitches a bit, skin prickling, some part of you wishes the hardened gaze was directed at you instead. 

You turn back to the man, “Sorry I don’t do pictures,” he seems visibly heartbroken by that so you quickly add. “But I can give you an autograph if it’s all the same to you.” 

Oh god, you hate when you have to put it like that. It makes you sound so full of yourself. You’re not a movie star. 

His eyes sparkle, “Thank you!” he pulls out a small notebook and hands it to you. “Can you make it out for Alex?” 

“Sure.” you quickly sign your name—well, not your name name but your stream name; Honeysuckle. You add a little heart next to the name and return the notebook. 

“Thank you!” he repeats, his genuine glee spreading in the air and caressing your skin. Your stomach does a small somersault as he walks away, clutching the notebook close to his chest. 

“Well, at least he was nice about it,” Joel grunts, finally taking a sip of his coffee. You’re not sure what to take from his response, or expression for that matter. Is he mad? You don’t think he is. You nearly jump out of your skin when his focused gaze suddenly snaps to you. “You alright?” 

“U-Uh, yeah,” you wave your hand in dismissal. “This kinda stuff happens. Most of the time they don’t say hi though.”

“So they just stare at you like a piece of meat?” 

“Pretty much, yeah.” your voice is uncaring. Honestly, you’re used to it by now. It’s not like you had the most respectable job, at least, not according to most people. You can only imagine the comments you would get if you had Instagram, or if Ravish didn’t have a tight-proof system that allowed you to ban people on sight. You reach for your sandwich and take a bite, you chew slowly. 

Joel snarls, “Assholes.” 

“I was hoping you didn’t notice,” you smile around your second bite. He seems almost offended by what you said, crossing his arms over the expanse of his chest. 

“Of course I did,” he huffed. “And why wouldn’t you want me to notice?” 

“I don’t know,” you truly didn’t. “I guess I didn’t want any hiccups to happen right after we decided to be. . . exclusive.” 

“Honey. . .” he gives you the tiniest smile, eyes full of care. “Don’t worry, people starin’ ain’t gonna get me packin’. Don’t you. . . don’t you know my feelings run deeper than that?” 

Joel's words hang in the air, his gaze searching your eyes for any sign of reassurance. The last thing you ever wanted was to make him feel like he was the source of your worry, the reason for your unease. Yet, here he was, looking like he believed he was to blame for your discomfort.

You lower your gaze to your sandwich, suddenly feeling a weight on your chest that has nothing to do with the bagel. It's not that you doubt his feelings for you, but you've carried the weight of your own insecurities for years, and it's hard to let go of them all at once.

Tears threaten to well up, and you quickly blink them away, not wanting to appear vulnerable in the middle of the coffee shop. You take another bite of your sandwich, chewing mechanically as you try to compose yourself. The flavors of avocado and bacon mix on your tongue, but they seem tasteless compared to the swirl of emotions within you.

Joel's hand finds yours on the table, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your knuckles. When you finally muster the courage to meet his gaze, you're met with eyes that hold a storm of emotions. Concern, understanding, and a vulnerability that mirrors your own.

"You're not alone in this, you know?" he murmurs. 

You let out a shaky breath. You're not used to showing this side of yourself, not after so many years of self-preservation and guarding your heart and yourself.

"I guess I’m still not used to this yet" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. "It’s not your fault at all, it’s just been so long since I’ve been with anyone. . . emotionally. I'm sorry if I made you feel responsible."

He leans across the table, his warm hand cradling your cheek. His touch is gentle, his thumb caressing your skin. "I get it, sweetheart. And you don’t need to apologize. We’re the same in that aspect, I haven’t been with anyone for a long time either. Just. . .  know that I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. We'll figure this out together."

You lean into his hand, you’re feeling lighter already. 

Joel's lips curve into a tender smile, and he leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead. "Besides," he mutters, sitting back. “I don’t run away from what’s mine.” 

Mine. 

One simple word. A noun of all things, is what makes you melt in your seat. It’s sobering. Waking you in a way that no amount of coffee ever could. Mine. He said that. You heard the possessive lilt laced with the word, almost daring you to object. You nearly do if you’re honest, shadows dance in his eyes, draw you in like a bunny rabbit sniffing a tempting trap. You want to take the bate. Sink your teeth into that carrot to see how he’ll react, the things he’ll do to prove just how true his words were. 

Instead, you clench your thighs together and propose something else instead. 

“Let me prove to you that I’m yours then,” you say. Eagerness caused Joel's eyes to widen, his jaw betraying his emotions with a subtle twitch. “In fact, let’s show the world.” 

No matter how vivid your imagination was, no matter how long you prepared and checked the equipment over and over again, nothing—absolutely nothing—could have prepared you for Joel walking through your bedroom door.

You had picked out a form-fitting black button-up shirt for him to wear. The fabric hugged his biceps, the seams barely holding on. The shirt stretched over the expanse of his chest, the buttons doing a better job compared to the seams in holding everything together. However, you were certain if he stretched even a little, the shirt would rip with a satisfying pop. 

That isn't all, though. Your eyes move up from the shirt, your gaze tracing the lines of his body until they land on the striking green mask he's wearing.

The mask is a deep shade of forest green, with intricate gold detailing that seems to dance in the light. Swirls and patterns weave across the surface, accentuating the gilded flakes in his eyes. 

His brown eyes peer out from behind the mask, a slight awkwardness to his gaze that seems to lessen with the hunger of your stare. The contrast between the vibrant green and the warmth of his gaze draws you in like a moth to a flame. The mask frames his face perfectly,  showcasing his strong jawline and the facial hair that clings to his skin.

"I feel dumb," he mutters, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine. “Isn’t there a way you can just make it so that my face is out of frame?” 

The mask had been his idea, he didn’t want to be recognized—rightfully so— and since he still wanted to stream. . . he bought himself a mask. 

Too bad he doesn’t realize the effect it has on you. Only if he could feel how wet you were for him, that’ll surely put him in a better mood. 

“Not really, we are going to be moving after all,” you answer. His gaze drops. “Joel, you look devastatingly hot right now.” 

His ears perk at that, eyes lifting to meet yours instantly. “Really?” 

"Come here," you manage to murmur, your voice laced with a mix of playfulness and longing. He obeys without hesitation, closing the distance between you in a matter of heartbeats. His hand reaches out, fingers curling beneath your chin as he tilts your head up. His eyes, those deep pools of honey, lock onto yours with an intensity that steals your breath away.

"Tell me," he whispers, his thumb brushing lightly over your lower lip. "What's on your mind?"

You swallow, your words catching in your throat for a moment before you manage to answer, your voice barely more than a breath. "You... the mask... everything. I can’t wait to feel you deep inside. Can’t wait for you to ruin me for everyone to see."

His lips curve into a smile, and he leans in, his breath mingling with yours as he murmurs against your lips, "Oh, don’t worry. I don’t plan on leavin’ an inch of you not clingin’ with my come, darlin’.” 

Oh, fuck. 

Fuck fuck fuck. 

Your lips part with a soft gasp and he slips his thumb into your mouth. Your tongue eagerly laps at his thumb, drawing circles, begging for him to press deeper. Heat radiates off of him, suffocating you in the best way possible. Your eyes drop to his crotch, the outline of his cock visible despite the dark blue denim.

Joel grins and shifts his hips closer, teasing you with a promise of more. You close your lips around his thumb and swallow. You’re in a trance. Body and soul bewitched by his presence. Your breasts feel full and heavy, nipples tingling. 

“Go and start the stream, honey.” 

Tingles. All you feel are tingles as you get up and desperately head toward your setup. Your legs are shaking. His eyes burning holes into your bare back. A second later his palm is on your ass, stroking the plump flesh and teasing the elastic of your panties. You sigh, the fabric sticking to your folds. 

With practiced efficiency, you start up the stream, the familiar hum of your equipment filling the room. Almost immediately, comments begin flooding in, your "hive" eagerly joining the live broadcast. The chat scrolls rapidly, filled with excited greetings and bee-themed emojis, a testament to the unique community you've cultivated.

"Hey there, my busy bees!" you greet, your voice filled with enthusiasm. "I hope you're all buzzing with excitement, because tonight we've got a special guest joining us."

You let a mischievous smile tug at the corner of your lips as your eyes flicker to the monitor. There he is, Joel, standing just behind you, his presence towering and captivating even though his head isn't visible on screen. The comments explode with excitement, the chat inundated with messages about how good he looks, how lucky you are, and playful exclamations about your "hunk of a guest” and how they can’t wait for him to “pump you full of his come”. A bit crass, but you can’t say you disagree. 

You continue, "But first, let's give a warm welcome to our newbies! Welcome to the hive, where we celebrate all things sweet and sticky." you wink at the camera and bend slightly over, wiggling your ass. Joel doesn’t waste any time moving directly behind you, hands on your waist as he pushes forward, making you feel the heft of his cock between your cheeks. A small moan escapes you, breasts swaying with his shallow grinds. 

“And now, without further ado,” you say breathless. “Let’s start the show. Our guest is an impatient one,” you hear Joel scoff behind you, the voice making your pussy bottom out. “Am I wrong, sir?” 

His nails bite into your flesh, showing you just how much he enjoys being called that. You smile as you stand up, giving one last look to the monitor to check everything is in place, you face Joel. You lean closer for a kiss, hoping that it’ll soothe his nerves. He must be nervous. 

But before you can close the distance, he grabs your chin and pushes you back, just proving how wrong you are. Your eyes widen, the pressure he applies to hallow your cheeks emptying the oxygen in your lungs. “Not so fast,” he grunts. “On your knees, honey. Only good girls get kisses.” 

Your insides pulse with a vicious throb. His voice takes on a tone you've never quite heard before. It's deep, a resonant rumble that seems to vibrate through the very core of your being. His voice, deep and resonant, like thunder during a storm and wraps around you like a velvet cloak, warming you. As you slowly sink to your knees, your pulse quickens in response. 

A desperate, hushed rustling fills the room as a zipper is lowered and briefly, you steal a quick glance at the streaming setup, ensuring that everything continues to run smoothly. Joel’s head is still out of view, which you regret because you want everyone to see how good he looks in his mask—

His touch is a sudden and deliberate pull, “Eyes on me,” he growls, the bulbous head of his cock pressing against your lips. His fingers are wrapped around his impressive length, and instead of notching the head between your lips, he smacks your parted lips with it. A drop of precome stains your bottom lip, a string of it following the tip as he holds it above your face. Your eyes are glued to the masked figure above you. Despite the tone and the roughness, they’re just pools of soft honey, internally searching your face for any discomfort. 

Joel begins to stroke himself and with a heavy gaze, you part your lips wider and stick your tongue out for him to use you however he pleases. 

His dark chuckle makes your skin prickle with need. You come closer, dragging your tongue between his balls, nuzzling him sweetly. Joel curses above you and grips your shoulder, holding you back. 

“Sir, please,” you gasp, attempting to get close but his hand keeps you at a small distance. 

He doesn’t acknowledge your pleas, “Push those pretty tits together, sweetheart.” 

Desperate and dripping, you press them together with your arms. His cock comes from under, the head piercing your tits as it pushes from between them. Joel hooks his thumb in your mouth and you obediently suck around the digit as he begins to thrust. Neither of you breaks eye contact. 

Joel pushes himself further into you, driving his hips forward. His cock slides between your tits, filling your already open mouth with vigor as he rocks in and out of your ample cleavage. You moan around his thumb, the warmth of his precum dripping over your tongue. 

Your body rocks with each stroke, the pleasure radiating through your chest with each thrust. Your nipples throb with arousal, hard like diamonds, as he slams his rigid cock into your tits. Sweat beads on his forehead and he grits his teeth, “Keep them together,” he grunts as he pulls out, with the head, he smears drops of himself over your heated skin. 

Your eyes roll back at how possessive it is, the fact that everyone is watching already forgotten. “Good,” he says, pleased. He pulls away his thumb and drags it over your bottom lip. “You’re already so dumb for my cock, aren’t you. Eager to show your viewers how badly you want to be good for me hmm?” 

God, the tremors in his voice, that southern drawl. He’s going to be the death of you. 

“Y-Yeah,” you pant, chest heaving. Ignoring the ache it causes in the back of your neck, you lean forward and manage to taste him on your skin. You moan as your eyes flutter closed, your own breath warm against you. “Want to be your good girl again, sir.” 

He pulls away from you completely, heading towards the bed. You stare at him blearily as he takes a seat, only coming to your senses when he hits his thigh, gesturing you to come over.  

Just as you’re about to sit, he stops you, clicking his tongue while lifting a hand. “First strip, darlin’. Turn to the camera,” you don’t miss the way he smiles as you turn on shaky legs, staring directly into the lens. “Have you already forgotten how to stream? My poor sweet dumb girl.” 

His words send you into a haze of submission. Needles stinging your back, you peel off your panties and bra, dropping them to the floor. “Good,” he hums. “Now sit on my lap, spread those legs so they can see how wet you got just from gettin’ her tits fucked.” 

Joel scoots further back and gives you space on the bed to place your feet. With heavy lids, you spread yourself for him—and the people who’re watching at home. Your front facing the camera. To expose yourself in such a way, it’s different compared to what you normally do. You have fun with Dieter but it’s never like this, never as intense. A shaky breath escapes you when Joel places a hand on the inside of your thigh, pushing your legs further apart. He’s staring at you through the monitor, jaw slack. Meanwhile, you’re just happy people can see his mask, those brown eyes. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he mutters, his role forgotten. “Look at you. Fuck,” his lips touch your ear, whispering the rest of the words so it’s only you that can hear. “You never stopped bein’ my good girl. Just sayin’.” 

Your vision blurs with tears and you nod, his lips now on your cheek. He drags his mouth to your forehead and lays another kiss. “Now let’s give them a show.” 

Joel cups your ass as he helps you lift yourself, aligning himself against your sopping core, he slowly lowers you, filling you inch by inch. Your head falls back, mouth agape, you’ve forgotten how big he is, how satisfying it is to take him so slowly. His breath is hot on your nape. “That’s it,” he purrs. “Just like that, show them how good you take cock, honey.” 

 “‘S big,” you slur. “S–So big, sir.” 

He shushes you, lips moving over your cheek. “I know, honey I know,” he licks the salt off your skin. “But you’re my good girl, aren’t you? You can take it.” 

Joel rears up, slowly pushing himself into you. His hands guide your hips to the right angle to let him slide deeper, your soft cries echoing through the air. 

“I am,” you gasp, delirious, his cock completely sheathed inside. “I am. I–I’m your good girl.” 

You twist around, straddling Joel as he takes both your hands and draws you close. His lips crash against yours, and you moan into his mouth as you grind your hips against him. Heaven help you, how can you take him like this with an audience? Images of all the people watching on your live stream dance in your mind, but it makes it all the hotter.

Your body rocks up and down as you ride him, your inner walls clenching around him. You’re panting and moaning, your body shaking as you pump harder.  You feel Joel shift beneath you, his grip tightening as you take him even deeper, arching your back and pushing your breasts out. You can feel his eyes on you, as well as the eyes of the viewers watching you live stream. His cock glistens with your slick, every time you lift yourself, the light catches against it, everyone watching seeing how worked up Joel gets you. 

You can feel Joel's warmth radiating throughout your body as he slides back and forth, gaining momentum as he thrusts harder. You stifle a moan, your eyes fluttering as pleasure overcomes you, your head humming with pleasure. Your body starts to slow, your muscles aching and trembling. 

Suddenly Joel grips your waist, fingertips leaving dents in your flesh. He growls in your ear, drops of spit hitting your neck. “Who told you to slow down?” he pulls your body against him, forcing himself deeper into you. Every inch of you is shaking as Joel's hips slam against yours. His fingers find your clit, drawing gentle, quick circles around the sensitive nub. You cry out, clenching around him. “Look into the camera,” he groans. “Want them to see your fucked out gaze when I make you squirt.” 

Your hands find purchase above his knees, the coil in your stomach tight, it’s too much. Too fucking much. Your head is swimming in a lavender haze, and before you know it, your cunt is pulsing around him, gushing and slowing his thrusts. You hear the faint pitter patters of a rain-like sound. 

You barely register the liquid spraying from you, your body hot and burning while Joel’s fingers continue to move. Your drip down his length and down the inside of his thighs, and he rips another, albeit calmer, orgasm from you.  

“Shiiiiiit,” he drawls. “Shit shit, honey, fuck, don’t move—” he makes a choked-out sound and spears you down flush on his cock. The sounds you make are completely debauched. A series of sir’s dropping from your lips, tongue aching to moan his name. You feel him spilling inside, so much, you think, so much of it filling you up. He’s still throbbing when he pulls out, gripping himself and ringing the last of it over your glistening cunt, drowning it in come. 

“Oh fuck,” you murmur as he pushes it back in with the head of his length, you shudder around him. “So full,” you say, eyes dropping where you two connect through the reflection in the monitor. 

“Not done,” he mutters and helps you lift yourself over him, cock slowly softening. “Push it out darlin’. Show them how much there is to keep you satisfied.” 

“F-Fuck,” you let out a whimper, eyelids fluttering as his seed trickles out of you and drips over his length. You feel faint of heart, this probably being one of the filthiest things you’ve done on camera. 

“Good girl,” he says, eyes glued to the camera. “My good girl,” he repeats, cupping your mound and slipping one finger inside with ease. 

Joel gently lays you down on the bed, your body too weak to do anything. He walks up to the stream set up, his eyes flashing toward the camera one last time. “See y’all next time.” he taunts before shutting the entire thing off. 

He throws the mask to the ground near your discarded clothes. 

You don’t know what to think when he climbs onto the bed, mattress dipping with his weight before he pulls you to his chest. He kisses you slowly, taking his time as he tastes you. “Sorry,” he whispers into your mouth. “I think I might’ve gone overboard.” 

“No,” you sigh dreamily, still in a haze. “That was perfect. I—I don’t think I can walk for a while.” 

You let out a low chuckle and he smiles, pressing his lips into your forehead. 

“Well, good thing I’m here then.”  

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x fem!reader #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #webcam model!reader #joel miller au #joel miller smut #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction

[sweetanyways]

fun words :

bastard

scoundrel

charlatan

harlot

rapscallion

hooligan

ruffian

swindler

plebeian

blasphemy

#anyways be gay do crimes #reblog w more fun words #:)) #dark academia #tagged dark academia bc idk #funky words ... dark academia #theres some correlation if you squint #gay friend groups be like #wait what the heck when did this reach 7k #100k now fuck what happened #hall of shame

[fangirlovestuff]

More Than Meets The Eye - Steve Rogers x reader

a/n - hey lovely people!! this one is for @s1utforfictionalcharacters​, who asked for a Steve x reader enemies to lovers a while ago. thank you so much for bearing with me and being patient, and i hope you enjoy!!<3

Summary: Between figuring out what was the Tesseract doing at a Hydra base and if it even is the Tesseract, you need to navigate your relationaship with one annoying, broody Captain. Honestly, you might prefer the Hydra thing. 

this isn’t set in the mcu timeline, but takes inspiration from a few mcu movies. it’s not canon compliant and everyone’s alive:)

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: lowkey angst and some tension, maybe a curse word or two? tell me if i missed anything!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

"Rogers!" you heard Tony's voice over the comms, "Where the hell are you?"

"Babysitting," you heard Steve's irritated voice, not only over the comms but also behind you, right before you saw him dashing past you to punch the Hydra agent you were fighting square in the jaw.

"Well, get America's ass over here, now," Tony grunted, clearly mid-fight himself, "we need backup."

"Go!" you yelled at him, spinning to take out another agent that was coming up behind Steve, "I got this!"

"You sure?" he asked, his tone sarcastically degrading, jumping while kicking two agents simultaneously. Showoff.

"Yes," you resisted the urge to roll your eyes, "I can handle them, go help the others!"

"Alright," he grunted as he pushed off another agent before running back in the direction he came from, towards the rest of the team.

"Cap, you coming or what?" Natasha spoke on the comms, calmer than Tony, but it was obvious she's just as in need of backup as he was.

"Coming!" Steve replied, before it went relatively quiet.

You finished up disarming the rest of the agents in your wing of the building. No one was calling for you on the comms yet, so you decided to make another round in the perimeter, make sure you didn't miss anything.

God knows captain know-it-all is gonna be on your ass about it if that's the case. And honestly, you have more than enough of that as is.

As you were walking down the hallway, you noticed a strange, glowing light coming from under the doors. Upon finding it was unlocked, you opened it to reveal a room that was entirely filled with the same blueish light you had seen, and it was all coming from a desk in the middle of it.

Approaching slowly and letting your eyes time to adjust, you got closer and closer, realizing the shiny object was a peculiar blue cube. A cube you knew well, perhaps even too well.

"Guys, if you're done over there, you might wanna come to my wing. There's something you're gonna want to see."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay, we have to keep looking, maybe they left some blueprints or anything that can indicate how they were planning on using it," Steve commanded, "or already have."

"Wait," you said before everyone split up to follow his orders, "as important as the why they got it is, I think the first question we should be asking is how the hell they got it. I thought it was locked away in the Asgard safe?" you looked at Bruce, who out of all of you had the most contact with Thor.

"It was, the last time I checked," he frowned. "I'll see if I can contact Thor, see if he knows anything."

"You do that," Tony interjected, "the rest of you, follow Cap's order while he and I have a little chat. Shall we Rogers?" he pulled a frowning Steve aside, while you all split up to try and find any information you could salvage.

In your search, you ran into Natasha. As you were both scouring the same desk for clues, working together like a well-oiled machine, you asked, "what did Tony want from Cap?"

"Probably to ask him where the hell was he when we needed his backup," she said matter-of-factly. "Or, you know, where the heck he was. We all know Steve's proper like that," she smiled, and you let out a chuckle at her words.

"Well, that’s good," you remarked, "since he really should've been there for you guys. I don't know what was that all about," you scrunched up your nose. "Nothing here," you added, closing the drawer you were looking through.

"Yeah, here too," Natasha closed her own drawer, "let's go."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that day, you were all having dinner together as you went over some papers the others found at the Hydra base. Since you were already in the same place, you split the takeout, taking caution not to spill any of it.

"Cap," you asked, seeing the saltshaker was too far for you to reach, "Can you pass me th-" your words were abruptly cut by him planting it in your hand, going back to whatever it is he was reading.

"Thanks," you muttered, going back to your paperwork as well.

This might be the place to mention that pretty much ever since you joined the team, Steve exhibited a certain… coldness to you. Arrogance, indifference, call it what you want – from day one, Steve Rogers made sure you knew he was better than you.

And considering he was literally Captain America, it's not like you thought you were ever better than him in the first place.

You blended in with the rest of the team seamlessly, fighting and training among them. I mean sure, there were jokes about you being "the new kid", but it was just that – jokes. No one, or at least no one but Steve, seemed to view you as inferior.

You still fought well together, it was your job. Hell, he just passed you the salt before you even finished asking for it. Being attuned to each other's actions and attitude in that way made it all the more obvious how much he seemed to covet his leadership position, his place of dominance.

It got on your nerves. So. Much.

You see, if he were like that to everyone else on the team, so be it. But the absolute majority of it was directed towards you – the new girl. And it was clear that's all he ever saw you as. A girl.

Even that salt thing – he handed it over so impatiently, so suddenly, like one would handle an irritating child.

You had hoped he'd get over it at some point, but so far, that didn't seem to be the case. Well, you're not planning on going anywhere, so you'll both have to get over yourselves at some point.

"Hey!" Steve snapped his fingers in front of your eyes, shaking you from your reverie. "C'mon, listen up. Tony found something."

Oh well, that "some point" is probably not today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So, Hydra wanted to use this," Natasha gestured at the Tesseract, "To power up a weapon they've designed?"

"That's the gist of it," Tony confirmed. "But from the looks of it, this thing is a lot more powerful than it seems. They planned on powering up a whole armored aircraft, plus all of their rifles using this cube. If that's possible, and by the looks of it, it very well might be, it's a lot stronger than you'd think."

"Wait, what do you mean their rifles as well?" you asked, your brows furrowing, "like, split this thing into pieces?"

"No, it looks like they were planning to project its power somehow, like…" Tony trailed off, struggling to explain.

"Like… Bluetooth?" you suggested.

"Yeah," tony snickered, "pretty much."

"Okay, but they didn't do that yet, right? We stopped them?" you looked around to the rest of your teammates before looking back at Tony.

"Seems like we did," Steve answered instead. "Bruce, any update on how they managed to get it?"

"Didn't hear anything back yet," the man in question shook his head, "I'll try again."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Bruce ended up getting an answer from Thor, telling him to come to Asgard, you immediately volunteered to go with him. It was partially because you've never actually been there, and you were very curious as to why Thor would ask Bruce to come.

But also, you could use a break from a certain Captain.

You tried to ask Bucky and Sam what his deal with you was, several times, but they just shrugged and gave you vague, unhelpful answers. You even considered trying to convince Wanda to just tell you what he thinks about you, but you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of bothering you so much that you'd stoop that low.

So lately, you've been just trying to avoid him, which usually worked just fine, since it's not like he was that adamant about being around you either. That is, until you said you'd go with Bruce.

"No way," he immediately objected.

"Why?" you asked, "Bruce might need some backup, and I'd like to visit Asgard. Win-win."

"We need you here, going over the papers."

"C'mon Cap, I think we both know I do better out there in the field than I do with all the blueprints. Tony's way better with that, he's the only one who does it anyway."

"So what, you're just gonna go on a field trip?" he sneered.

"No, I'm going to look out for my friend and teammate." It took everything in you to keep your voice level.

"That's nice. Cause it would be a shame if Banner had to watch your back while you went on vacation."

You scoffed. "Where did you even get that idea? I said I was gonna give Banner backup. That's the first thing I said, cause that's the most important thing. End of story."

"Fine." Steve shrugged.

"Fine?"

"Yeah, if Banner's willing to take you with him, go."

"Good," you nodded.

"Great."

Somewhat awkwardly, you shuffled out of the room to tell Bruce to count you in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natasha was the one to send both you and Bruce off to Asgard, the rest being otherwise occupied.

"Be safe," she told the both of you, holding each of your shoulders with one of her hands, before stepping away.

"We will," Bruce promised and you nodded, and just in time the Bifrost came down, taking the both of you where you needed to get.

Thor was the one to greet you, taking you both in for a warm hug before his face became serious.

"I didn't call you all the way here for nothing," he said, "come with me to the palace."

As you were on your way, he explained. "When you told me you encountered the Tesseract in Midgard, I immediately checked in our vault. Sure enough, there's still a Tesseract there."

"A Tesseract? I thought there was just the one," you frowned.

"We did too," Thor replied, "which is why I wanted you both to come see it for yourselves. Maybe you'd be able to point out some differences."

Getting to the palace, you wasted no time going down to the vault. And there it was – the Tesseract.

"How…" you trailed off. It looked completely identical to the one you had found on earth, the same blue tinted glint lighting up its surroundings.

"That's what I was hoping you might have an answer for," Thor sighed, his brows furrowing. "You said the one you encountered was previously in the possession of a group called… Chimera?"

"Hydra," Bruce corrected him. "And yes, we found it in one of their bases."

"Is it possible that the one we found was a fake?" you asked, lifting your eyes from the Tesseract. "Or maybe this one is the fake? Is there a way to know?"

"The only way to know is to try and use them," Bruce sighed, "but trying to wield the power of an infinity stone can be dangerous and destructive to the one who tries. It's something we should try and avoid."

"Okay," you thought, "can't we try and take this one to earth? See if maybe Tony could run some tests on them both, find us a lead as to which one's the real one?"

"That sounds like a good idea," Bruce agreed, "or at least the best one we've got. Can we take it?"

"Of course. I trust you to guard it," he looked at Bruce fondly.

"Thank you," Bruce's eyes and smile are sincere as he shakes Thor's hand.

You pick up the Tesseract tentatively, putting it in your bag and looking back up at Bruce, whose handshake with Thor was still lingering. You hated to interrupt, but you two needed to go back to earth to fill your friends in if you wanted to solve this mystery.

"Shall we?" you asked, somewhat softly.

"Yeah," Bruce shook his head slightly, "Let's go."

You trailed behind Bruce and Thor as you made your way back to the Bifrost, thinking it over.

If the Tesseract you found on earth was the fake, then why would Hydra have a fake? And if the one that was currently in your bag was the fake, then why would they just leave the real one lying around while the Avengers stormed their base? And at any case, how did they manage to make such an accurate replica?

"Thank you, Thor," you said sincerely once you reached the end of the Bifrost. "We're going to figure this out."

"I know you will," he said, and touched your shoulder affectionately.

You said your goodbyes, and then, you and Bruce started to make the journey home, until suddenly you felt a force push you out of the Bifrost, and before you knew it you landed on dirt, rolling a few times, Bruce landing a few feet away from you.

Hurriedly getting up, you helped Bruce to his feet as well, before the two of you looked around to find yourself in the middle of what seemed to be a desert, but it was like nothing you've seen before.

The sand was orange, red, much darker than it was in deserts you've been to. You and Bruce landed in some sort of valley, surrounded by large dunes of the dark sand, creating a perfect circle around you.

"Have any idea where we are?" you asked, trying to keep your cool, "Or how we got here?"

"I-"

His words were cut off by the sound of a gun cocking behind you. Instinctively, you crouched down and spun around, sending your leg out, taking the man down with a kick to his ankles.

But it wasn't enough. Before you could fully get back up, you and Bruce were already surrounded by agents, and the fight quickly escalated into a hand-to-hand one, having to take on multiple agents at a time. At some point, Bruce hulked out, but even then, you were still fighting them all simultaneously.

You barely managed to take in the glint of a knife from the corner of your eye before the felt the sharp sting of it on your ribs, your hand automatically going to hold the wound. The man started running in the other direction, which was when you realized you weren't the objective of this attack.

Your bag was.

"Bruce!" you yelled, trying to get his attention, as you started trying to run after the agent.

But before Bruce could even notice you, a deep rumble sounded through the air, the prominent crackling of thunder. You turned around just in time to see Thor coming down from the sky, Mjolnir clad tightly in his fist, sending bolts of lightning at your enemies.

You turned back and tried to keep running, but you couldn't do it fast enough, the wound in your ribcage still bleeding, and soon, the agent disappeared from sight.

You were panting when the battle died down, a mere few minutes after Thor's arrival. You didn't turn around, even as you sensed Bruce and Thor approaching you from behind.

"I lost it," you said, still unable to meet their eyes.

"They took it," Bruce said gently. "Now, let me take a look at that wound."

Well, you thought, that's not how Steve's going to see it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You lost it?" Steve asked, his disbelief clear. His eyes were trained on you, a frown on his face.

"She got hurt trying to protect it, Steve," Bruce answered before you could. "We'll get it back."

Steve's eyes didn't waver from yours, even as Bruce spoke.

"I'm sorry," you said, your voice coming out smaller than you wanted to. You cleared your throat, continuing stronger, "I did everything I could."

"I told you, you shouldn't have gone out there," he sighed, frustrated.

"Really, Cap?" you asked, "is this the time for 'I told you so's? for a hundred-year-old that's really fucking childish," you said through your teeth.

"Watch it," he snapped, "next time, maybe if you listen to me you won't get hurt."

"If I'm that bad of a soldier, Captain," you spat out, "am I not dispensable to you? Why do you even care if I get hurt? I bet it would've been just the same to you if I died but you still had the Tesseract."

Your words rendered him speechless, and you turned to walk towards the med bay. Bruce offered you his arm, but the look you sent him made it very obvious you weren't interested in company.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The wound healed well. You and Steve were… civil, to say the best.

You'd admit your words that day you were back from Asgard were harsh. You'd even admit that to his face, if he'd change his attitude towards you. Which he didn't, so really, maybe he deserved to hear them.

Anyways, a few days after the Asgard thing, the wound was fine, and you had an idea.

"Hey," you asked Tony, who happened to be next to you at the moment, "what if we go ask Strange?"

"What?" he looked up from the robot he was currently tinkering with.

"What if we went to Strange to ask him about the Tesseract?" you repeated, "he'd probably know more than us about this stuff."

Tony wasted no time in calling a team meeting, in which you told the others your idea about reaching out to Strange.

"That's a really good idea," Steve said.

Taken aback, you opened your mouth to speak, but before you could, he continued, "I'm coming with you."

Yep, it was way too good to be true.

"Why?" you asked, frowning. "I thought Tony would come, since he's already had a run-in with him before."

"Yes, but I think we can agree he's not the most diplomatic person out there," Steve smirked.

"I'm right here," Tony remarked dryly.

Steve paid him no mind and continued, "And besides, he's pretty much the only one except Bruce that knows enough to figure out Hydra's blueprints, and we still need all hands on deck in that front.  So, I'm coming with you," he finished in a tone that left no room for argument.

You considered objecting anyways, but knew whatever you'd say would sound childish and tactless, so you simply nodded at him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Since the Sanctum Dr. Strange usually resided in was in New York, there was no need for Steve and you to take the Quinjet, but you did take a car from Tony's collection, which Steve drove. The car ride was filled with quite the uncomfortable silence, but at least it was better than arguing, right?

Small victories.

When Steve parked the car about a block away from the Sanctum, you both got out swiftly, blending right in with your civilian clothes, and making your way to the doorstep.

There, Steve knocked on the door hesitantly. You both listened, but there was no answer. You held onto the handle and managed to open the unlocked door easily. You exchanged a look with Steve, both of you on high alert, and entered through the door, Steve closing it behind you.

You both silently stood in the threshold, contemplating your next move. Eventually, you took a tentative step forward, and just then a red object whipped right in front of your eyes, making you stumble backwards, right into Steve. You quickly turned around to apologize, but before you noticed it the red fabric was wrapped tightly around your arms, holding them tight against your torso. Steve was in a similar predicament, and since the cape wasn’t that long, you two were left tied face to face and extremely close to each other.

You tried to wiggle out of the fabric's hold, but it was almost like it tightened with your every move, adjusting itself accordingly. You struggled against it, trying to move even the slightest bit, but it wouldn't budge. You sighed, looking up at Steve.

Oh my god, he was way closer than you'd realized. His wide frame towering over you, you swallowed dryly before you whispered, "What now?"

Before he could answer, the sound of footsteps carried through the halls, and soon enough, Dr. Stephen Strange was descending down the stairs of the New York Sanctum to greet you.

"Hello," he said, his face indifferent, "I wasn't expecting you."

"Well, we weren't expected to get so… tied up, so that makes three of us," Steve remarked, prompting you to chuckle.

"Hello, Dr. Strange," you introduced yourself to him, "the Captain and I were wondering if you could help us with some… Tesseract trouble."

"Sounds awful," he smirked slightly. "Follow me," he started going up the stairs again and you exchanged a look with Steve. "Oh right," he gestured with his hand, and the red fabric detangled itself from the two of you, and turned out to be a cloak as it wrapped around Strange's shoulders. "I almost forgot," the man chuckled, "Now come on."

You and Steve exchanged another look as you rubbed your arm where the cloak dug into it a little, before following Strange up the stairs and into the library, where he offered you two chairs to sit in before sitting down in front of you. In the air. He was sitting down while floating.

Still less weird than the cloak, in your opinion.

"So," he started, "what, uh, Tesseract trouble are you having, exactly?"

Steve and you took turns explaining the situation to him, from finding a Tesseract in a Hydra base to losing the one that was previously in Asgard. Steve, to your relief and wonder, said nothing about it being your fault, but just said it wasn't in your possession anymore.

"So," you summed up, "we were wondering if you knew how anyone could manage to replicate the Tesseract this well, and how can we tell which one's the fake one. Without using them, of course."

"Well, those are great questions. I don't know of another way to determine if an infinity stone is indeed real besides taking the risk and trying to use it, so I can't help you with that. But as for the fake, I believe opening the Tesseracts will provide a good enough answer. You see, the Tesseract isn't that hard to fake. Might be a little expensive, sure, but some lights and plastic and you're set, and from what I understand Hydra isn't exactly struggling financially. But," he sighed, "you can’t fake an infinity stone. For most people, once you'll come in direct contact with it, you'll feel its power, and also its destructive properties."

"So the only way to know if an infinity stone is real is to risk touching it?" Steve asked.

"As far as I know of, yes," Strange nodded.

"Thank you," you said, "for your help. We sure get back to the compound, but we'll let you know if there are any big developments."

When Steve and you got back to the compound, everyone was already waiting for you, and you told them what Strange told you. Together, you all went to open the tesseract you had found in the Hydra base.

"Be careful not to touch what's inside," you warned, and Tony put of his Iron Man arm before breaking the side of the glowing cube, opening it to find…

A bunch of wires and lightbulbs. They didn't even try to make it look like an infinity stone.

"Well, the one in Asgard could've also been a fake," Natasha shrugged. "This doesn't really tell us anything. C'mon guys, we'll continue the search tomorrow," she touched your shoulder comfortingly before slipping away.

You were about to do the same when you saw Steve fidgeting with his sleeve, around where the cloak was wrapped around him. You walked up to him.

"You okay?" you asked, expecting him to brush you off.

"Yeah, I just think this cape held on a little too strong," he chuckled, removing his hand to reveal a stain on the fabric of his right suit sleeve, on you knew all too well was blood.

"Oh my god," you frowned. "C'mon, I'll help you clean it up," you gestured towards the med bay.

The walk there was brief and silent, and when you got there, you told Steve to sit down before ripping his sleeve enough to see the shallow wound.

"You don't have to do this," Steve said, as you looked for some gauze pad and wet it with water.

"I know," you said, "but since I'm the reason we needed to go there in the first place, I am doing this."

"You know it's not your fault, right? You couldn’t have known he'd have a magical cape that ties up people."

"That's not what I was talking about," you mumbled, before cleaning the wound gently.

Steve sighed. "I guess I do owe you an apology for the Asgard thing. I acted like a jerk. I'm sorry."

"No, you were right," you chuckled bitterly, "it's my fault we lost what might've been the real space stone to Hydra. You were just the only one willing to admit that."

"Well, I hope you know what you said about me then wasn't true. I care. You know, if you get hurt. And I wouldn't want anyone to die so I can have anything."

"I know," you said dryly, "you're too perfect for that."

You finished cleaning the wound and started bandaging it.

"That's not- god, I really do have a way with words, don't I? you probably hate me by now."

"I don't hate you, Steve," you looked up from his arm to his eyes, and he smiled at you. "Relax, it doesn't mean I like you all that much either," you smirked, prompting him to laugh.

"Yeah, that's fair, I guess. Thank you," he gestured to his now bandaged arm.

"Sure," you sent a small smile his way before walking away.

Maybe Steve Rogers wasn't that bad after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, scratch that, Steve Rogers was the worst.

The conversation actually started out civil. Nice, even.

"Hey, Cap," you started, "do you know if Bruce found anything on the wiring in the fake Tesseract yet?"

"Nope," he turned to face you.

"Oh. Well, thanks," you smiled, "I'll just…" you gestured at the exit, but he stopped you.

"Wait. Actually, I wanted to talk to you. Can you…" he gestured at the empty chair in front of him, and you sat down.

"About the whole Tesseract thing," he started, "I think you should consider sitting this one out."

"What?" you frowned.

"I just…" he sighed, "I think it might be better if you sat this one out."

"Steve, I found the Tesseract in the first place," you said, getting angrier by the second, "I'm not backing down from this."

"You found the fake Tesseract," he corrected, "and lost what might have been the real one."

"I thought you said it wasn't on me."

"It's not, but still."

"I don't get it, a few days ago you were telling me it wasn't my fault and now you're benching me because of it?"

"I just… you're clearly very invested in this-"

"Which is why I deserve to stay on this mission," you cut him off, fighting to keep your voice level.

"Which is why I think you should sit it out," he ignored you, "because you don't need to get yourself hurt for this."

"I'm an Avenger just like you," you snapped, "you might get hurt as well. So might everyone else. I don't get why I'm any different."

"I told you, because you're too emotionally invested," he insisted, his tone rising.

"Oh, you're benching me cause I'm 'emotional'? really? That's your excuse?"

"That's not an excuse, I-"

"No, tell me, Steve, what's your problem with me? Just spit it out, clearly you have one. What have I done to you to make you hate me?" you were yelling now, exasperated at his flawed logic.

"I don't hate you."

"That's all you have to say?" you scoffed. "You know what? If you're letting whatever your problem is with me to get in the way of the mission, maybe you're the emotional one."

The charged atmosphere was interrupted by Natasha's frame showing up in the doorway.

"Hey guys," she started, before looking between the two of you. "Is this a bad time?" she waited a second before shrugging, "Doesn't matter. There are sightings of suspicious activity midtown, we think it can be Hydra. We gotta move, be down in five," she stated, before walking down the hallway, leaving Steve and you alone once more.

"I-" he started.

"Let's go," you said at the same time, before simply turning away to go and suit up. You had a battle to win, no matter what he thought.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

"So," Tony started once you were all on the Quinjet, "Here's what we know – Hydra is probably in the possession of the real Tesseract, since we just got word of people seeing a big aircraft over midtown. My guess, they wanted to test the new weapons out before using them on a larger scale," he said, "which is why it would be the best thing to stop them now."

You split up into groups, Tony, Wanda and Sam going after the aircraft, Bucky and Steve go one way on the ground, you and Natasha the other. Thanking every god you knew you weren't paired up with Steve, you and Natasha ran and turned into a large square, starting to point people away from the steady stream of Hydra agents that was coming your way.

You and Natasha were both fighting off the agents together, most of the civilians already cleared from the area, when suddenly, they just… stopped, all in unison.

"Avengers," a voice with a heavy accent boomed through the air, presumably from the aircraft, magnified by speakers, "I know what you're here for," the voice chuckled. "Come and get it."

All at once, the Hydra agents in front of you pulled out something from their bags, or the pockets of their jackets, and it took you a second to realize what it is – exact replicas of the Tesseract. Dozens of them, maybe even hundreds.

You looked over at Natasha, who was just as exasperated as you were. "We gotta break these things," she said, and you nodded in understanding, charging at the men and women with renewed energy.

Because this was your chance to fix what you broke, to make things right. To show Steve you're better than your mistakes.

That was the mantra that was going in your head, as you smashed Tesseract after Tesseract, even as you found nothing but wires, you kept repeating it – fix what you broke.

Slowly but surely, you and Natasha tackled and defeated more and more agents, moving closer towards where they were coming from – the aircraft, that was lowering more and more, sending out more agents, in a wave that seemed never ending.

Expect when you got closer, you noticed that there was a staircase going down from it. A staircase that at the top of stood a small an in old fashioned army clothes, holding, how not, a small, glowing cube in his hand.

Your vision zeroed in on him. You had a target.

Barely stopping to disarm the other agents, you quickly made your way through the crowd of agents surrounding you, until you were right at the bottom of the staircase. You looked up to see the man still standing on top, smiling at the chaos unraveling at his feet.

You decided to take advantage of the fact he hasn't seen you yet, and climbed the staircase from the bottom side, hanging on to creases and bumps, to keep the advantage. When you got to the top, you tried to swing yourself over the rails. You would've fallen down if a hand wouldn't have reached out, catching your arm and throwing you back on the staircase, right side up.

"Ah, the new kid," the man snickered above you, "I've heard about you. Were you really the one they sent here?"

"No one sent me," you hissed as you got up. "Now hand over the stone and it'll be much more pleasant for you."

"So much spite," he laughed, "but alas, I don't think I will, sweetheart."

"Whatever you say," you delivered a poignant kick to his knee, "sweetheart."

You tried to punch him, but this time he was quicker, avoiding your blow and landing one of his own on your shoulder. You shrugged it off and continued to try and pry the stone from his hands. The struggle was drawing attention, and Natasha yelled at you to watch out just in time before a Hydra agent from down there shot at you, only missing narrowly.

You continued to fight the man, who was stronger than he let on, considering he was fending you off with only one hand, but you also had getting shot to worry about, which was in his favor.

At last, you managed to knock the Tesseract out of his hand, and it fell to the ground in a shattering sound. Out of the broken pieces, there were no wires to be seen, only a stone.

Bingo.

You heard Steve shout something at you from far down, but you weren't paying attention, instead diving for the stone, grasping it in your hand, along with some shards of glass that cut you, but you couldn't care less, because this was it.

Fix what you broke.

You concentrated with all your might of the stone, its power almost physically throbbing in your hand, along with the excruciating pain, but you didn't care.

Fix what you broke.

Your breathing became labored, the pain near insufferable when you finally did it – opened a portal. You didn't know where it led, but the important thing is, it wasn't here. You threw the stone away with all the power you had left in you, praying it would reach so far you'd never see it again.

Fix. What. You. Broke.

Just in time, the portal closed, and you sighed gratefully. The pain was starting to take over now, your mind dancing on the edge of consciousness when you heard voices coming towards you. You wanted to tell them you were fine, but you found yourself falling to the ground, registering the pain of the fall before everything went black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When you woke up, your first thought was that the light's too bright. It felt almost like a hangover, but way worse, and

"I didn't even drink anything," you said, before breaking into a dry cough.

In a second, Steve was there by your side with a glass of water, holding it to your mouth. You took some small sips until you calmed down enough to remember that while no, you didn't drink anything, you did wield the power of an infinity stone, which means it's a miracle you're even alive.

So really, you should be thankful all you ended up with is an awful hangover. Of sorts. A magical hangover.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked, breaking you from your reverie, and making you meet his gaze with yours.

"As much as I can be," you replied, your gaze falling to the blanket that was laid on you. "how long was I out?"

"About 18 hours," he said solemnly, "we didn't… we weren't sure if you'd wake up," he admitted, his voice dropping below a whisper by the end.

"Can't get rid of me that easily," you joked. Despite everything Steve put you through, for some reason you couldn't stand to see him this devastated.

"No, don't-" he sighed, "no one wants to get rid of you. Least of all me. Hell, thinking I'd lost you and it was my fault… hurt more than I could imagine."

"It wouldn't have been your fault, if I, you know," you shrugged, "that was my choice. I had to fix what I broke."

"No, you didn't," he insisted, his eyes snapping up to meet yours once more, "because you didn't break anything. None of this was your fault, and yet you fixed it, alone. You risked wielding the power of an infinity stone to keep earth safe, alone. You shouldn't have been alone."

"It worked out just fine. Besides, what difference would it have made, one more injured person?"

"If I was quick enough… I don't believe the stone could've taken both of us down."

"Us?" you smirked, "I didn't know we were an 'us'. But it's fine, I can deal with that, I guess," you shrugged, and Steve chuckled. You couldn't tell if you were imagining it, but it looked like the slightest of blushes was sprinkled on his cheeks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

As a part of getting you back to normal, you started training again, moderately at first. But as you regained your strength, your training was almost as intense as it was before. Or maybe, even more intense.

You see, before that, you weren't training with Steve.

Since you didn't really get off to a good start, you'd always train with the others – Nat, Wanda, Sam… other non-super-soldier humans with a very human self-discipline, meaning that you could take breaks and chat in between reps.

Alas, those days were far behind you. I mean, not that far, that's just kind of dramatic, but you get it; you trained with Steve way more often and it was a nightmare.

You didn't know what standards Steve held for his other friends, but if he's like that with everyone then maybe it was better off not being his friend.

"What was that?" Steve asked, his eyes not moving from the timer, which looked comically small in his large hands.

"I said," you repeated between labored breaths and fast push-ups, "if you're like this with all your friends maybe I was better off not being one."

"Who said you are?" he shot back with a smirk, "and… time!"

You collapsed on the training room mattress, letting out a deep breath. "how much was that?"

"98 pushups in one minute," he stated, "not bad."

"Okay, Mr. captain super soldier," you breathed. "You know, maybe I should go back to doing these with Sam. A human being with normal people achievements," you sighed, faux-dreamily.

"I thought you wanted to get better?" Steve chuckled, extending his hand out to help you off the mattress.

"I'll tell him you said that," you smirked and took his hand, letting him help you up. Your touch lingered for the briefest of moments before you let go of his hand.

"Be my guest," Steve shot back, before taking a couple of sparring staffs off the wall, handing you one. An unusual technique in battle, but you found that practicing them with Steve provided a decent challenge to you both, since you were better with it than he was.

With both of you getting into a fighting stance, you started the match by dashing forward, trying to land one on his shoulder, but he quickly spun to the side, accompanied by a move of his staff that, fortunately for you, was a bit poorly aimed, thus only hit you in the arm.

You continued this back and forth for the next few minutes, one graceful move answered by a steady block from the other side, almost like a delicate dance. After a while, you felt yourself getting a little tired, and knew if you didn't end it now, he'd win.

And well, you just can't give him that kind of satisfaction.

You quickly planted your staff on the ground, using the momentum to jump up and wrap your legs around his neck, using your weight to push him down onto the mattress. You'll have to thank Natasha for that move.

His staff fell from his hand as he hit the floor, and you used your advantage to pin his arms above his head, making sure to lean enough of your weight on his torso so he couldn't move. You were both panting from the exertion of the fight, and you could feel a bead of sweat traveling down your back.  

He smirked up at you. "Did Nat teach you that one?"

"Maybe," you raised your eyebrow in amusement. "But I executed it to perfection."

"You sure?" he asked, and before you could answer he broke free from your grasp, flipping the both of you so your torso was pinned below him, catching your arms the same way you did to him moments ago.

Breathing heavily, your tongue darted out to wet your lips. "Well, maybe not perfection," you murmured, "but I'd say I did pretty well. You're in nice shape for a hundred-year-old," you slowly grinned up at him.

"Just nice?" he mock pouted, not moving from his position above you.

"Yeah," you smirked, "from what I've seen."

"Well, maybe you've seen nothing yet," he suggested with a quirk of his eyebrow, his head lowering even closer to yours.

"Maybe," you said softly, standing your ground. His eyes were boring into yours, you could hear the shallow sound of his breath, feel it even.

Closing the distance between you was almost more impulse than an actual aware decision. Your lips met his soft ones, his momentum pushing you back against the mattress, your head hitting it with a soft thud you paid no mind to. One of his hands left yours, coming to cup your cheek as his tongue hesitantly entered your mouth, continuing eagerly when you let out a hum of approval, one of your hand sneaking around his neck and tangling in the hair on the nape of his neck, pulling slightly.

When you finally parted, your breaths were once again labored, but for an entirely different reason now.

"Okay, maybe you are in good shape," you rasped, shrugging as well as you could.

He chuckled before his eyes met yours. "You don't hate me," he stated incredulously.

"I already told you I didn't. I take it back, maybe old age is getting to you," you giggled.

He groaned lightly, making your laughter grow stronger.

Okay, so Steve Rogers wasn't the worst. Final verdict.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

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#chris evans x reader #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #Steve Rogers x Female Reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers angst

[sly-merlin]

killing me- 9

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre :    angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au , smut

warnings of this chapter : smut, drinking ,mention of weapons

words :: 7k

summary : “life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”                                  

or              

                    “  curiousity got the cat hitched”

taglist :: (not tagging the old ones because they have read it already bt if u want , lemme know! )  @yiyi4657​ @sorrywonwoo​ @sillywinnergladiator​​ @suhweo​​ @exfolitae​ @minejungwoo​ @leesalts​  @mal-nakamoto23​ @ro2424​

@kafenetwork​​​​ @neowritingsnet​​​​

K.M masterlist

K.M 8  next

note:: unedited! i’m a bit busy so i’ll try to edit it before sleep!

“yuta.”

“bake up.”

Yuta groaned at the foreign force shaking him repeatedly. He moved, crashing his face further into the sheets, swatting the alien hands away from himself.

“wake up you horse!” this time yuta heard the gurgling voice a bit more clearly. Someone was trying to disturb his sleep. Staying on his stomach and titling his half body to face the uninvited guest, he made out a face that matched johnnys. His face fell flat on the mattress again until he realised what or whom he has seen! He jolted upright, squatting, to face johnny.

“what are you doing here.” He mumbled with eyes still closed, stretching his arms on the sheets.

“it’s 1p.m!why you still sleeping dude?” johnny’s exasperated voice sounded too loud to yuta’s morning self. Or afternoon!

“It’s m-” a long yawn stretched his mouth into an oval shape, that he didn’t mind covering “its my house. I’ll do whatever I want but what are you even doing here?” he completed quietly.

“why are you still sleeping. You weren’t even drunk. Get up and tell me where is y/n!”

“so you are not here for me!” yuta pouted at johnny before throwing himself on the bed again, covering himself with sheets.

“what the fuck yuta! You are not a baby and tell me where is she? Did you even drive her back?” johnny asked sternly, removing his layer of protection.

“the only thing I can assure is that I wanna sleep more. And about your big fat crush! She certainly came back with me but she was crying so I won’t be surprised if she left already.” As soon as yuta’s almost inaudible words reached johnny’s ears, he jogged outside the room, checking the lock of your room. He sighed in relief at the secured lock. You didn’t leave and he was glad.

Johnny noticed your movements when you signed those papers. He was cursing at himself for not interfering but not like it’d have made any difference! The best he could do was to make sure you were fine at the end. Regardless of the fact that your phone was switched off, he was trying it continuously since yesterday night. Countless phone calls and messages but all were futile. His anger on taeyong was just fuelling by your ignorance.

Annoyingly, he fisted his hair before going for yuta’s room again.

“is she in university right now?” he asked yuta, who was looking like a dead body with an open mouth.

“bloody hell nakamoto! Wake up!” he shouted at him, this time the sheets were tossed on the floor.

“johnny babes, just track her. Don’t shout at me. I didn’t do anything this time.”

“you seriously ate your ethics yuta. I’m not needed there so I’m staying until she’s back.” Johnny declared, making his way outside on the couches.

“not needed my ass john suh. Ate my ethics! Says the one who’s seducing his own sister-in-law.” He only muttered before drifting back into paradise.

johnny just sat there in front of the t.v, mindlessly waiting for you, unknown guilt corroding his mind and heart.

***************

Doyeon and mingi’s whispering felt like a hammer to your head. The incessant pounding was the result of some expensive alcohol and the stupid tears. If exams were not approaching in two weeks, you’d have stayed longer to sulk but their future was as important as yours and only one more week was left so you just sucked it up. Now you were eating the lunch brought by mingi while testing them for exam.

“civil laws suck.” Mingi exclaimed, hitting doyeon on the arm.

“no! your brain sucks.” Doyeon reiterated, poking his head with her pencil.

“wtf doyie! My brain is totally packed up to the brim. if you love it so much, then tell me the answer of question 6!” a smug smile made its way to mingi’s lips.

“what’s wrong with no.6 mingi?” you questioned, perplexed as there was no difficulty in the paper yet he was still looking here and there.

“umm. Non bis in idem! It’s not given anywhere. Right?” he hesitantly asked for he knew he was wrong, somewhere.

“what was the paper you wrote last time?” you tried not to unleash your anger on them, so you kept your voice as low as possible.

“double jeopardy!”

“and?”

“and?”

“what the heck mingi! Didn’t you mention the legal maxim of dj?”

“maybe not!”

“what kind of law student forgets about legal maxims duffus! Non bis in idem means double jeopardy.” You reprimanded him tiredly, not in the mood to put up much fight with him.

“sorry” he said, head hung low.

“don’t be mingi. I won’t gain anything from this. you need to study for yourself. now complete this before I give you a subjective test. Double prep is always good. Hurry up!”

A collective musical groan leaves them both, as they tend to their paper again, you drowning yourself in your own books.

*******************

Johnny and yuta were engrossed in a football match when you entered the hallway. Upon noticing you, johnny sighed in disbelief, before making his way to you.

“why is your phone switched off?” he fumed at you, hands on his waist as you poured water for yourself.

“It wasn’t charged so I left it here.” he knew he wasn’t doing his utmost in containing his irritation and your casual tone just took him off guard.

“you jus- you should have charged it dammit. I was fucking worried that something happened to you and what kind of girl travels without a phone these days!” his hand ruined his already messy hair as he ranted, the reason of which was beyond your understanding.

“it’s not that big of an issue besides I’m not clearly out of reach right!” you scoffed at him, pointing to your arm where the bracelet was hidden, under the sleeves. You didn’t mean to sound rude at his concern but his position was no better .You had every right to be querulous!

“i-you don’t understand. i just wanted a reply from you. it’s the least I deserve! Or don’t i?” his voice went down as his face lost the previous stern expression.

“I saw my phone only this morning and I was getting late so didn’t bother!” you shrugged your shoulders at him, making your way for the room.

“where are you going?” his voice rose a bit as he held onto your arm.

“in my room!” you replied, matter of factly.

“yeah! I thought you were going to greet your dear husband!” he joked, tilting his head towards the couches where yuta sat previously but he was not there anymore.

“I don’t wanna talk johnny!” you said curtly, jerking your hand away. But he was quicker as he pulled you into him, backing you into a counter.

“just leav-

“no tell me what’s the matter with you. what have I even done?” his voice was barely above a whisper, meant only to be heard by you. the rise and fall in his speech was already shaking your resolution.

“nothing! just turned a normal student into a deadly underground member. But it’s nothing big so yeah!” you replied, mock evident in your words. As you tried to leave again, his hands caught your waist as he picked you up, stationing you on the counter. He secured you against his body, restricting your movements. His hard orbs found yours as he hands tightened around your waist, making you gulp in the process. You stared back with same intensity, as if reading his next step. He lowered his front, demanding eyes never leaving yours,

“this is the first and last time I’ll be explaining myself. I don’t know a shit about why he did that. But those papers won’t be used against you. I won’t let that happen. Ever. I promise that with my life. Just have some faith in me” He whispered. Besides it being the precise validation you sought, suspicion couldn’t be helped!

“and why would you do that. Do you also have some hidden agen-

his lips felt soft as they collided with yours with urgent need to shut you up. You froze, so did he. The only movement in your control was of your hands that were tightly gripped to the counter. The silence in the air being tense, his lips stayed still and contrary to yours, his eyes were completely shut. Johnny’s light breaths fanned your upper lip as his chest heaved up and down. Neither of you made any effort to further it nor any to pull apart. Few more seconds passed and he finally detached himself, the bodies still connected. Your lashes fluttered as he palmed your left cheek, speaking in a low husky whisper.

“I promise. Just believe me and when I say taeyong won’t hurt you, I mean it. With all my heart. Can you trust me on this please?”

He was insisting yet pleading and you merely nodded, lowering your head. His delicate fingers brushed the line formed between your brows, smiling softly.

“you have nothing to worry about. with unparalleled record that we have! You ain’t getting rid of me anytime soon. Yeah?”

His breathy laugh tingled your insides and something like awe transformed his face as he felt the warmness of your cheeks under his hand.

“by any chance, are you flustered?” your face went blank at his shameless comment when he was the very reason for your current state.

“n-no!” you pushed him hard while standing straight. He staggered a bit, giggling uncontrollably at you.

“lying suits you y/n. just like your soulmate jaehyun.” You scrunched your nose at the mention.

“don’t talk about him! He’s so annoying, i’m gonna hang him upside down someday o-or turn him into a stew!”

“and feed him to yuta!” he completed. You gawked at him for a moment before joining him in his laughing session.

“there is food?” yuta entered the kitchen, dimming the commotion.

“not for you!” you snarked.

“we have food y/n?” it was johnny this time. you had almost forgot about the sandwiches that were now probably rotting in your bag. As realisation dawned, you hurriedly retrieved your bag from counter, opening the plastics from the sandwiches with a last hope to save them.

“do you know that you don’t have to be ramsey to stuff cucumber and tomatoes in a bread?” johnny shifted, taking the packages to heat them up.

“I was out of bread. So I just took the easy route.”

“lame excuse! Work better!”

“not everyone got time john!”

You strolled for your room, passing yuta in the way, totally missing the frown and cute smile on yuta and johnny respectively. Though yuta’s internals were screaming at him to open his shitty mouth, his main focus was on his empty stomach that was growling like never before.

“pass me one john!” he whisper yelled to johnny, purposely stretching the last word to satisfy himself.

“no! it’s her lunch or snack or whatever it is.” He warned, hiding the oven with his front.

“oh so you have turned a part time servant for her!” he spewed, crossing his arms against his chest.

“no dude. She’s actual-

he was about to tell yuta but he halted his train of words for he was not in the place to tell any of your secrets to anyone , especially yuta.

“she’s what? Your girlfriend?”

“I swear I’m gonna fry you someday!”

“whatever. Now give me a sandwich before she comes out. Hurry up!” yuta looked over johnny’s shoulders to count the stacked portion in the device.

“one, two-

“three. They are just three yuta! Fuck off.” Johnny knew throwing abuses wouldn’t work but hitting him with his shoulder wasn’t either! He glanced at yuta and he seriously looked miserable. Hungry miserable!

“come on-

“are you done john?” your voice echoed from the hall as you approached wearing your famous tank top and cotton shorts. Yuta cursed under his breath, opening the fridge to get himself something.

“here” johnny handed you the plate. He hit yuta’s arm to grab his attention who was practically trying to sit in the fridge.

“renjun and jaemin are cooking their special ramyeon. We’ll eat there, come on!”

���huh!” he excitedly passed johnny to pick his things up.

With yuta out of sight, his focus shifted again on you. “don’t you get sick after eating takeouts?”

“yup I do! My gut is not the healthiest one in the world. But I’ve fewer options and I do check their health certificates so no need to worry.” Your humorous reply didn’t get more than a shit face from him. He leaned again causing you to take a step backwards.

“your hair!” He pointed and you rolled your eyes like you’d see what was happening up there.

“what my hair?”

“umm. Nothing kiddo!” he said before ruffling your hair.

“aah. I’m not a kid johnny!” you shouted at him though he was just standing by your shoulder.

“oh yes you are!” he pouted dramatically and ran but not forgetting to throw a flying kiss your way. “charge your phone, I’ll call again.”

“eww!” you snapped your head to catch yuta standing behind, making faces at johnny who was standing at the front of hallway.

“oh come on you shit.”

At johnny’s comment , yuta just followed and you totally missed the way he scoffed at both of you.

****************

You were truly jumbled by johnny’s actions, innocent yet calculated. You had maintained your calm but he was aware that you were not blind towards his growing attraction. why didn’t you push him away! What was he aiming at? Questions, questions! From the very first day, all you have are questions with no concrete answers.

But Johnny was not the sole occupier of your worries, taeyong held a significant part of it. If what johnny said was true, if his intentions were not so malafide then he’d easily have skipped it. Despite johnny’s assurance, you couldn’t afford trusting him anymore. Not like you could protect yourself from losing anything but your walls would always be enclosed for him.

Your wandering mind was pulled back into reality by a message from your classmate. The date of thesis topic submission was moved to an earlier one, a week earlier to be specific. In reality, you were all starting it a few months earlier just so the pressure could be minimised but it instead felt like a strategy for your doom. You all were supposed to submit the topic and a little introduction even before the qualification exam! And obviously you were behind the so called ahead-of-time schedule. You could have wrote a ph.d worthy book on mafia and their ploys but sadly criminal law was not the option available for it. So that’s how you ended up in the small balcony, sitting on the cold floor, enjoying the evening cool breeze. Search results on both naver and google had varied from “50 best topics of dissertation in international law” to “how to know what is my area of interest?” but every try had gone to a blank page.

************

By late evening, you got bored of sitting in the balcony and room, so you decided to study with a change of setting and the only place available apart from your room was the hall. After computing various possibilities, you dragged the single seater towards the hall windows and angling the book on the window still, a much comfy makeshift study space was ready. With the newfound determination to complete the task at hand, your eyes browsed every means of information to stumble upon anything you missed earlier, ignoring the blue skies switching to the darker ones.

***********

Yuta noticed the way he was experiencing more fatigue as the days passed by. He never trained this much until he was suspended. He looked forward for it to end so he could feel the same thrill again but two weeks wouldn’t just pass in a blink! He claimed the basement as his new home trying to ignore the activities transpiring upstairs. The desire to stay with his dear roommate jungwoo was irrepressible but his ego didn’t allow him to give in so easily. He wanted to show his anger to taeyong and that was the only reason he found himself coming back to the new home more often.

He languidly passed the kitchen to use the washroom. Only when he was about to enter his room, he noticed the lightening in the kitchen and living room. He groaned at the thought of your imprudent habit of multiplying the electricity bill which eventually he had to pay! Or maybe you were just trying to instigate him! When he was about to put out the lights, he spotted the sofa and a pair of legs perched on the widow still. He took light steps to reach your sleeping figure and suddenly he felt his annoyance melting into astonishment. Your face was covered with the open, visibly heavy hardcover book whilst your half body was on the seat and half in the air with feet placed on the window still for balance that was clearly very very comfortable place for napping at midnight. unconsciously, his hand extended for the book and as he picked it up, you stirred. Panic took over him as he lost the hold leading the book to fell on your face instead. He ducked, cupping his mouth with both hands to stifle the laugh that was about to escape. Luckily you were dead to the world. Hearing no movement, he crawled for the room , getting up only when he was at a safe distance. Without wasting another moment, he did what he was there for in the first place and went to sleep, with a thumping heart that was probably due to the initial dread he felt or that’s what he thought!

**********

The bus stop being far away, you began the long trudge for neos’ house. Taeil had requested your presence two days ago , but being too busy with studying on the first few days of the week ,it was delayed. You’d have never accepted the offer if it was taeyong but taeil suggested you to take your time even though what he wanted to ask or said was important. His readiness to prioritise your convenience warmed you and it were the emotions of the moment that you agreed to him. And now the heat was burning your exposed legs and you were cursing his sweet tongue.

You knocked on the opened door to announce your arrival despite the fact that the main door had automatically detected you to lead you in. you stood there like a statue, moving your neck like an owl, waiting for an invitation but nothing. you banged it again only to hear someone’s cursing from inside.

“who the fuck knocks when it’s op-

A screeched scream met your ears as a man came into your sight. He abruptly started bowing, apologising profusely.

“I’m so sorry noona. I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry. This won’t happen again. I-

“hey, it’s totally fine. I didn’t even hear you in the first place.” You lied, saving him the mortification.

“can I come in?”

“this is your own place. You don’t need to ask or knock noona!” you entered as he gestured you to sit.

“can you call tae-

But before you could say it, he ran inside. You didn’t know or remembered his name but his face looked familiar. Maybe he was sicheng or hyuck or someone else cause you were sure you had met hyuck before!

“I was making coffee for taeil hyung. But he’s late so it’s yours now!” he exclaimed with his eye smile. it was cute and friendly.

“what was your name again?” you asked smiling back at him, noticing the little red on his neck.

“jeno.” He immediately settled on a seat, his focus fixed on you. “I’m making snacks. Do you wanna join?”

You chuckled at his innocent suggestion, “If you meant joining for eating, then I’m all in but if you want my help in actual process, then you’d die hungry today!”

“I’m aware of that but you are never late to learn anything right!”

“wow. Your enthusiasm is admirable but I don’t wanna burn your kitchen.” Your eyes were blessed with another series of his eye smile. it was contagious.

“you are here!” you saw taeil sprinting towards you.

“I’m sorry. I got caught up in the office.” His words came out breathy as he was still panting from the jog.

“no worries but I don’t have much time. I have to study for exams.”

“yes, studying is important.” He nodded before requesting jeno to get him the coffee and water, to which the boy grumpily complied.

“why the fuck is air con off! I’m gonna roast!” He whined and got up again to close the front door.

“now. I’ve two things to tell you or rather order you. you wanna eat first orr-

“no I’m fine really. Just tell me what taeyong ordered this time!” you had no doubt that it was taeyong’s doing.

“forget about that shit. Here, veto power is mine. JENO, STOP MELTING THE ICE AND GIVE ME SOME WATER!” he screamed at jeno who came out hurriedly with both water and coffee.

Jeno took a seat beside taeil but his one glare made him go back. Sighing in relief after quenching his thirst, he continued in a polite voice. “yuta told me about the card. Why didn’t you take it?”

“because I don’t want his money. I’m good with what I have. Besides every transaction related to him would lead me in trouble so why take the risk!” you sounded harsher than you intended but it wasn’t in your control anymore. Mention yuta and you’ll obviously bite!

“the account is already open. Yuta’s gonna transfer same amount of money every month so why don’t spend his money or better, give him a heart attack by paying everything with the card. He’s gonna pay and I promise, he has no say in this so he won’t even scold you!” he sounded quite cheerful which clearly indicated that none of them understood your language.

“no thanks taeil. staying away from his shadow is much safer.”

“shadow runs with the man y/n.”

“the man himself avoids me like a plague so it’s a win win here.”

“what you see is present. Nobody can ever escape a tomorrow! You are evading it today, but one day you’ll eventually face it.”

“I don’t speak quotes!”

“simple! You both collide only to cause harm to each other. For how long do you think this can work. You’ll get tired and I suppose he’d too. when you’ll stop to rest, you’d find him there but at that time you won’t have enough energy to fight off anymore. Placebo is deadly y/n!”

You absorbed his vague statement full of philosophy but your mind couldn’t harmonise with what he meant!

“honestly, I stopped hearing the moment you mentioned yuta so can we continue!”

“yeah sure. Take the card, keep it for emergencies and I’m not taking no anymore. You aren’t hearing me so I’m doing the same. and secondly, can you defend yourself?”

“defend from who exactly?”

“drunken bastards, thieves, goons or whoever comes at you with a knife!” you were puzzled at the sudden mention.

“my personality repels violence and I’ve two strong best friends.” You declared the obvious. The only drunkards you met were outside the clubs and you never went alone so the thought never crossed your mind.

“first is a lie and second is insignificant here. I need you to learn some basics so you won’t need anyone else or just to hold until help comes.”

“what the! Are you actually recruiting me or something? I don’t wanna be a party in your gang wars.” you announced, now clearly understanding what he meant in the first place.

“I’m not telling you to fight with us. You don’t have an ounce of brain do you? it’s for your own safety.”

“safety from what? I live in a rich and peaceful neighbourhood, my dear husband is a corporate of first class, I myself never even go for a simple stroll in a park then who would I even fight?”

“here ,we all are used to the danger that we face everyday. Each and every man you see here is able to dodge anything that comes their way but you.are.not. Just because they are acting like school kids with no care in life doesn’t mean they are any safer. Jeno was making coffee a few minutes ago but after dinner, he’d be going for protection fee collection with others. If shit goes down, you might not even see him again but we won’t let that happen in the first place. It’s not same with you though. god forbid if you attract the attention of wrong people for all the reasons you stated, then how are we going to help you. even if you press the bracelet , it’d take us some time to get there. till then what would you do? You can’t even probably run for more than a mile! can you?”

You just shook your head at him, too baffled to form any words.

“do you devote any time to exercise?”

“I walk enough I guess and some planks when my stomach is out too much.”

“you are no better than these boys seriously.” She rolled his eyes at your statement.

“but despite the exercise or whatever, my strength is nothing against jeno or johhny. I’ll never b-

“if you fail in strength , atleast you can be swift. Or better you can learn to handle a gun or a knife. When do you get free?”

So, that’s why he called you!

“I don’t have a minute to spare for the next 15 days. Prep and exams are more important for me.”

“no worries. We can start after that. But don’t remove the bracelet band under any condition. Some rival mafia has hired a contract killer for you. so run fast if you notice someone following you, press it and we’ll be there. till then just hang on.” Nervousness got hold of your senses as you heard his warning.

“you are fucking kidding right! was I being followe-

“yes, I’m kidding.” he chuckled dryly. “You should see your face. If it was outside the parameters of the room, you’d have passed out already. Panic only leads to death and I don’t want you to die. so do it just for my peace of mind.” You released the breath you were holding till now, feeling relaxed again.

You just nodded at his words. He sounded like some motivational speaker luring you into his lifetime guarantee program but you knew he was right somewhere. you couldn’t depend on the boys to save you from creeps for whole life.

he was good at reading minds, you thought but despite that you wanted to pour the coffee on his head for the heart attack he’d gave you a minute ago.

“it’s risk free and beneficial. What you say?”

“ok. but I don’t wanna spar with the 6 feet ones. I’ll rather learn from you.” it was your turn to cackle!

“we’ll see about that.” He rolled his eyes to the back at your obvious attempt of poking fun at his short stature

JENO, I DIDN’T ASK FOR A COLD COFFEE. MAKE ME A NEW ONE.”

********

Meeting with taeil had benefitted you in every way. The most useful presently was the topic of the thesis he randomly suggested you. “ effect and consequences of veto power in relation to international peace and human rights”.  even mr. kwang, your thesis mentor liked it as it was almost near original. Now you were just left with exams that were just a week away. Fortune was playing in your favour as yuta had been missing from past few days that saved you some extra energy and headaches that you got with his repulsive energy towards you. then there was your newfound love for the sofa that you had permanently dragged by the windows. It helped a lot in relaxing and studying and you ended up sleeping on it, nearly getting used to the cramped neck.

Unbeknownst to you, he did come back, daily. But you were just so occupied that you never noticed the slight shuffling in the midnight. it went on for days until you woke up with a blanket covering your bare legs, evidently not yours!

****************

How to start the finals? By getting wasted? No. certainly not. But birthdays are important, sometimes more than those stupid grades!

The venue for yeong’s b’day celebration was a night club, as expected from yugyeom! He need no reason to get drunk and when his s/o was herself cutting the chains, then it’s the finest deal one could get!

Loaded with university students, the party at the first floor was thundering. The hoots and roars of slightly drunk adults became deafening as soon as the cake was consumed.

“why your classmates are so fucking loud” you screamed in yeong’s ear. You both were seated at the corner on leather seats, drinking away the reality.

“with your dolphin voice, you are in no place to judge them bitch!”

“lets blame this on your drunkard mumbo jumbo!” she jumped in joy at your lame attempt, alcohol speaking out for you.

“btw where’s your boyfriend?” she questioned leaning into your ear.

“who?” you wondered who she was referring to.

“wonwoo! Who else dumbo. His whole army was invited by gyeom but I haven’t seen him yet!”

You just shrugged in response, not wanting to face him. The farther, the better. His possessiveness only elevated your fears. Now that you were bound on taeyong’s mercy, wonwoo would be calling for a danger by being with you, especially when you were incapable of returning his love.

But fate had some cruel plans stored for you. when you were ordering another drink, strong hands gripped your waist. Though beyond tipsy, the moment you touched the protective hold, you knew it was wonwoo. It was always him afterall.

“you could burn me while wearing white and I’d say thank you baby” He whispered, nibbling on your ear, shivers running down to your bare thighs at the sudden action. everyone knew how much you loved white and that’s why yeong had designed this short white satin dress which just screamed “you” and barely left anything to the imagination of the viewer. “and nothing turns me on more than your covered arms.” He continued as his fingers slowly traced the collarbones down to the cleavage, your drunken self melting into his chest. His hands worked swiftly and he guided you into a secluded part to drown the excessive noise. Your back hit a wall as his nose brushed against yours, his slender fingers siding your sling bag to hook at your hips. He bent into your lips, love filled kisses slowly smoothening into hungry ones. The taste he left on yours was of the infamous vodka that he sure had consumed in plenty of amount ,leading him to you. the pledge to keep yourself away from him broke down in figures as he rolled his hips into yours, lips syncing with the movements. His grip bruised your body, hunger lowering from lips to the bare neck. Throwing your head back, savouring his touch, you clutched his shoulders for some control. Scheduled moans became more filthy as his one hand gripped your thigh in a try to hike up your dress. He didn’t do much work as it was already climbing up your hips. A Single move and his fingers graced against your core, tingling sensation burning your whole body. The open mouthed kisses left marks on your cleavage and neck as he fingers fucked you mercilessly.

“I missed you so much baby.”  His wavering yet soft tone met your ears but everything seemed hazy as he drove in and out of you. you felt euphoria in your stomach hitting you once again as he rambled on. “ don’t ever leave me again. you are my only lu-luxury. Don’t you ever dare snatch away the only hope I have! I love you. i fucking love you!” his sped up his actions under the dress but before he could provide you the final pleasure, you came back to the reality he  had divorced you from. you didn’t love him and never would. To his disbelief, you separated yourself from his body, him staggering back with the push.

“wha-

“I don’t love you woo. This-

Your hands filled the space between you two.

“this was never about love. We need to stop. I don’t love you woo. And don’t expect anything better from me. We are over. This is over.”

Your drunken slurs made evident that though you were loaded, the senses were still intact somehow.

“no y/n. don’t do this to me. I’ll wait more if you want. A lifetime if you say. But don’t say you are done with us. I’d die without you.” his words rang like a bell as you attempted to corrected the panties and dress, waving slightly.

You jumped away from him as his words got registered in your head. Ignoring him completely, you turned to enter the blast again but his strong hold on your arm stopped you. you squirmed under him, requesting him to let you go but his confession never halted.

“let go of her wonwoo!” you circled to see jungkook standing there , anger clear in his eyes. “I am not gonna repeat.” Jungkook was indeed dangerous when he was boiling.

“why was he enough and NOT ME!” you shuddered at the raise in his voice as he jerked you away. Timely, jungkook caught you and instructed you to go inside to wait for him. And you complied but not completely.

you were hot, bothered, angry and helpless at the same time so you did what you felt like. It felt like eternity when jungkook found you gulping some shorts in the bar. His brain went haywire for he realised you would’ve reached your peak by now. He cautiously approached you, checking the level of warmness on your cheeks. You were gone and so was he.

“what did you do with woo?” you asked him in the delightfully lovable voice that he found nothing but scary. You acting cute meant it was end of the life for anyone who would witness it. He had tried to record you a few times before in the said condition but it never ended up well with the screen of his phone meeting your wrath everytime. He helplessly dragged you from the bar towards the parking area, ignoring your initial question and the urge to scold you for the whole ruckus with wonwoo.

“I’ll drop you home cutie” he exclaimed, checking the level.

“I’m no cutie! And what about minjunie. And I don’t wanna go with you. I wanna be alone.” He giggled as you pouted at him, a rare sight to behold.

“yeah yeah I know you wanna be alone and blah blah but its past 11 already -

“soooooo. The protocol shall be followed despite the severi-

“shut up! You are not in a class dude. N hurry up, I’ve to pick minjun’s drunk ass as well!”

The discontent in his tone was apparent while he showed you the way forward. continuously wrestling against his strong hands, he finally gave up when you almost tripped over nothing.  

“stop annoying me y/n!”

“am i?” you pouted at him. “I don’t wanna go with you. don’t you understand!” he rubbed his temples in desperation.

“fine I’ll call someone else. But you can’t go alone.” But as he was fishing out his phone, you were gone.

After five minutes he spotted you outside, waving for a taxi.

“why are you so difficult?” his words fell to deaf ears. Watching you continue your frolics, he thought about giving up as a scheme formed in his head. Stopping a taxi , he ushered you in the back seat, moving to talk to the driver instead.

“no you aren’t coming!” you cried, showing your head out of the window. He grabbed his hair in annoyance, narrowing his eyes at you, “I’m not coming with you my mother! Let me give the address to the driver or else you’ll end up nowhere.” He pleaded, clasping his hands, bowing at you.

You giggled pleasantly at his gesture, hands flailing at him. “I don’t live in campus. I’ll give you the address. Wait!” after searching for your phone, you showed him the address saved in the notes app. That indeed surprised him for he wasn’t aware that you changed but decided against asking you. if it was not your new address, it could be trusted enough to be safer as it was saved under “my home”. Commanding the driver with an extreme firmness, he went away. Even in the drunk state, you were sure to some extent that maybe car was not moving.

“let’s go uncle!”

“your friend told me to wait.” you threw your head back realising that kook was upto something. A loud horn heightened your senses as the car moved.

Asshole, you muttered, grasping that he was clearly following you.

***************

“bop bop!” an eternity has passed for you in a futile try of remembering the password. The digits were changing their positions, as you regarded them.

“bop bop!” you tried again, mumbling to yourself, not knowing that you were not even banging the door in the first place. Standing still in your intoxicated state, arms crossed, the daggers you were throwing at the door would give any passer by a food to laugh but unluckily, there was noone there.

Bobbing your head from side to side, you started walking down the corridor, coming back at the your own door every few minutes. Curiously you pressed random button near the keypad. It was a bell, that you didn’t noticed earlier.

“wh- noona! You are here!” it was jaemin. He hugged you tightly before letting you in.

“duh! I’m waiting from last ten years but you won’t open.” Another giggle let jaemin known that you were in inebriated state.

“you are drunk.” He whispered.

“shhhh” you said , throwing your heels.

With jelly legs, you wobbled to the kitchen, catching attention of each and every presence in the living room and there were many of them.

“oh hiya! Home tweet home.” You chanted, hands waving like the wipers of a car. Hyuck and mark greeted you while jaehyun just sat down again, shaking his head in disbelief. However yuta was stunned and hooked to his place. He saw you navigating to the fridge, dropping the bottle, picking it up again, gulping it down, jaemin snatching it from you, apparently for you own benefit.

Jaemin guided you for your room before you got distracted by yuta’s figure staring you down.

“moshi moshi. Don’t you have any Japanese to throw at me today.” Yuta heard jaemin and others snickering as you slurred, walking unsteadily to him. He simply rolled his eyes, waiting for you to complete your attack.

“oh hi hyuck. I heard you don’t change your underwear for years. Go and take a bath right now. Asap” the liquid jaehyun was drinking, came out as a spray from his nose at the insult. Everyone was laughing at your antics except yuta. He scanned you up and down, eyes fixating on the fresh hickies on your visible neck.

“and you moshi moshi. You a-act like an angry young man all the damn ti-time,” hiccups started in between, “ but answer me with your half braincell- what kind of criminal you are! Atleast hid your face while shooting people dude.”

Yuta’s jaw cletched at your use of words, tension rising in the room. His neutral face changed into an angry one as you went on and on, all while poking his chest with your forefinger. “and that knife of yours! What are you? a street goon who hires little kids to scan cctvs for the-

And your body lunged forward, head resting where your finger was, passed out. Yuta’s red eyes didn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Anger radiated his body as he removed hands from his pockets to push you off but mark scooped your sleeping figure in his arms, signalling jaemin to open the door. After finding the key in your purse, mark laid you on the bed, rolling you to the side as jaemin placed a pillow behind to save you from falling.

They arrived in the hall only to find yuta already waiting for them.

“what was the need to baby her? She’s an adult and got drunk at her own expense. Didn’-

“so what hyung? Why are you making it a big deal!” mark replied.

“she is the one who makes everything a big deal. Didn’t you just hear how she was just trash talking about you all! She never fucking leaves a chance to spit at my face that I am a criminal –

“that’s what we are! We are damn criminals and she doesn’t know anything about us”

“but she says it like we are not even humans-

“I don’t understand why are you always throwing her under the bus hyung! Drunk people speak shit and she was totally hammered. Just let it go! Your punishment is over after two days, don’t spoil your mood over something so silly.”

“you can’t ord-

“yes I can and will order you because I agree with her. You do own just a half braincell that is not letting you think properly. Now don’t you dare mention all this to her in the morning.” Several pairs of eyes wandered between yuta and mark as the air became more pressured.

“so you do admit she is in wrong here hmm”

“she was just acting with her pure conscious. She saw a man dying and went to police. Tae hyung just made sure that she isn’t leaving anytime soon. She is trapped with criminals. What else do you expect from her? I know exactly what you want.” Suddenly mark’s eyes softened as he went on.  “You are craving empathy hyung. This is what I have seen in your eyes from the first day. You want everyone to realise that you are also wounded. You don’t despise her in actual but just the sympathy that wasn’t given to you in the first place. Stop acting like a stone. While blaming her you shouldn’t be forgetting that it was supposed to be me. You filled my spot as the killer. It started with me-

“no ma-

“it all started coz I was dammit feeling too sleepy to finish that contract killer. It was supposed to be a sniper attack but you had to go instead-

“I forgot my cover mark. How are you the cause when the problem was my own stupidity in the first place!” yuta shouted, tense silence following. Mark smiled a bit at him before continuing.

“then why do you hate her so much. shouldn’t you be hating me for sending you there or yourself for being careless. We should be compromising, not her. Just stop fighting with running water.”

He quietly said before picking up his jacket, going out. Everyone took that as a cue for leaving as well. Nobody uttered anything. The house was empty but mark’s words echoed in the space for entirety of the night, squeezing yuta into the reality he wasn’t ready to face.

*************

Your head felt like it was carrying all the weight of the world. Light harmed your vision, footsteps made you dizzy as you treaded for the door. Kitchen was suddenly too far away, everything looking too large for the squinted eyes. Water and sugar! two things circled in your head like a mantra, only until you felt a sharp pain in your waist. You slightly cursed the counter for bumping into you and stepped further to get water. the water soothed only your throat, stomach still craved sugar so you placed the large bottle on the counter, returning to open the fridge.

Some shuffling around the corner woke up yuta, who was resting on the couch. It hasn’t been more than few hours that he finally let himself immersed into the dreamland. His night and half of the day was spent in unearthing the deep hole that mark had thrown him into. He got annoyed at himself for failing in reaching a conclusion that would led to mark being wrong and it was the result of this constant thought provoking activity that he was having a persistent headache. He grumbled at the stiff neck as he got up. 13:03. Another sound came from somewhere, stimulating his body to check. With droopy eyes, he noticed you. actually half of you as the other half was searching for gold in the fridge. The hiked up dress was enough to give a free show of your bare legs without any strain. The thought of you eating his food wiped up all the drowsiness, making him go to kitchen.

“its not your bedroom. Close it.” He criticised, yawns escaping simultaneously. You didn’t move for his voice didn’t reach you in the first place. He tsked at your lack of senses as he neared you. but as soon as your figure got larger, his body met the floor brutally, several groans of pain leaving him. You turned around at the noise to see yuta struggling as his knee hit the polished hardwood. His other hand went to the counter for some support but it slipped causing his elbow to hit the cabinet handle more violently. His shout of anguish striked through your sensitive ears, making you swear in irritation.

Your eyes slowly traced the liquid under his body to the top of the counter. the water bottle. It was tilted and empty by the time you noticed and the water was what made yuta slipped in first place.

“fuck it!” he growled, discomfort contorting his features.

Slowly he moved himself to the other side, bruised elbow secured in his hand, grunts exiting him. You knew you were fucked up as soon as his cold eyes fell upon you.

“I guess it’s my time to call taeyong.”

#neowritingsnet #kafenetwork #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct angst #nct arrange marriage #nct mafia #yuta arrange marriage #yuta mafia #yuta angst #yuta scenarios #yuta series #nct series

[ificanthaveu]

2:00 am || Shawn Mendes

Description: You and Shawn Mendes had 2 things in common: you were always awake at 2 am and you had a habit for saying things you’d regret at 2am. Inspired by those 2:00 am lines in Feel it Twice and Mutual.

when you show up late say love at 2 am then tell me you can’t stay

it’s almost 2 am and I can’t ask you to stay

A/N: SO WHAT THE HECK HAPPENED AT 2 AM???? The world will never know, so I created my own scenario of the very complicated time of 2:00 am between Shawn and the reader. I’ve been obsessed with this parallel for a while, and I’ve been very uninspired but with heartbreak knocking on my door in more ways than one, I was prepared to write this. Enjoy :)

Word Count: 7k

Your tennis shoes were haphazardly thrown into the back seat of the car before you quickly slid on a pair of heels as your driver pulled up to the front of the venue. People were buzzing, photographers and celebrities alike running back and forth like their lives depended on it. 

Your door was opened for you, and you took a deep breath before stepping out and grabbing whoever’s arm was there. 

You mumbled a thank you as the man disappeared to help whoever pulled up next. You glanced around and gripped onto your purse. 

You were alone. 

Your manager was somewhere along the long row of professional people, probably trying to last-minute check in on your scheduled interviews. 

You were used to looking next to you and having your boyfriend with you, but he wasn’t here. 

Apparently, the Grammy’s weren’t his thing. 

You walked forward along the carpet, finding the entrance along with a few other familiar and unfamiliar faces. 

A hand rested on your back and gently pushed you forward on to the carpet. You looked forward and plastered on a smile, turning to whoever shouted your name. Random questions were hurled at you, but you knew better than to answer questions from people who weren’t the ones you planned on ahead of time. 

But the questions were all the same. 

“Where’s Jett?”

You ignored every one of them and continued walking down the carpet, meeting your manager along the way. 

“Your first interview is just with the Grammy’s livestream. All have been instructed to not ask about Jett, but we can’t always be sure they’ll follow through,” she whispered in your ear. 

You nodded your head before stepping up the first one. 

“[Y/N]! So good to see you,” the one said as she pulled you into a hug, having interviewed with her before. 

“So great to be here!” You said with a little too much excitement. 

“Now, this is your first Grammy’s, but your film A Day Too Long has a song nominated for best film song, which is so exciting,” she said before pointing the microphone towards you. 

“I know! I loved the song the second I heard it. It fits just perfectly with that pivotal scene, and I’m so glad it’s getting the recognition it deserves,” you said with a smile. 

“Now, you’re working on your next project I presume,” the other one said with a sly smile. 

You shrugged your shoulders and hid your smile, “Guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

“Any hints?” She said.

“Well, you might just see me on the big screens again sooner than you think,” you hinted. 

Both the girls shared a look, knowing they were the first ones to get this from you. 

You said goodbye to them, slowly backing up as you finished your conversation. 

You bumped into someone and felt a tug on your dress as you leaned backward, grabbing the train and tugging it out from under someone’s shoe.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” the guy said as he stepped back and reached down to straighten your train. 

“It’s fine,” you sighed as the man stood up and towered over you. 

“[Y/N], right? I loved your movie,” he said with a smile. 

“Yeah, yeah, thank you. I love your newest single,” you stumbled over your words. 

“Shawn, by the way,” he said as he reached his hand out, his voice shaking as much as yours.

“Yeah, I know. Hence why I said I loved your single,” you said with a small smile. 

He nodded his head and looked away for a second. 

“Yeah, probably should have figured that out,” he whispered. “Aren’t you usually here with someone?”

You glanced around and hoped no reporters heard what he just said. Shawn noticed your hesitation. 

“I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I just kind of know Jett,” he whispered. 

“No, it’s fine. I just don’t want any reporters thinking they can also ask,” you said with an eye-roll. “He just couldn’t make it tonight.”

Shawn cocked an eyebrow at you as you avoided his look. 

“Couldn’t make it to the biggest night in music?” He questioned. 

“Priorities,” you said simply. 

“Right.”

“I should keep moving,” you said after a moment of silence. 

“Yeah, yeah, me too,” he said as he stepped back and let you walk first, watching as you made your way back out to the middle of the carpet and posed for a final few pictures. 

You caught his stare and smiled at him as he returned it. He made his way back out and posed just a few feet from you. 

You made your way to the next interview and greeted them nicely. 

“We just saw you chatting with Shawn Mendes over there. How amazing is he?” He asked. 

“Oh, just the sweetest. That was actually my first time meeting him, and he stepped on my dress. But it’s totally fine! We’re all good,” you explained with a laugh and a smile. 

You looked to your side at the same time as Shawn did as he talked to the interviewers next to yours. 

“So, Shawn is good friends with your boyfriend Jett, right?” He asked with a smile that could kill someone. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat as you nodded your head slowly. You could feel Shawn staring at you as he finished up his interview. 

“Yeah, yeah, they’re really good friends,” you said as smoothly as you could. 

“Are you talking about how good of friends we are?” Shawn said as he jumped into your interview and slung an arm around you. 

You breathed a sigh of relief and looked up at him and nodded. 

“Exactly, how did you guess?” You said softly. 

“Shawn Mendes, how are you doing tonight? Nominated for two Grammys!” The interviewer said. 

“Yep, super excited. Now, I’ve gotta pull Ms. [Y//L/N] away, since I know someone’s looking for her,” Shawn said as he carefully tugged you along, waving goodbye to the interviewer. 

“You’re a lifesaver,” you said through a fake grin. 

“Jett and I aren’t even that great of friends,” Shawn said with a confused look. 

“You know how it is. You see someone twice, and you’re best friends,” you said as the two of you continued to walk to the end of the carpet, done with interviews and pictures. 

“So that’s why we’re best friends, right?” Shawn said cockily. 

“We’ve only met once,” you said with a shrug as you walked into the building, and he laughed. 

“Well, then this is where I leave you, and when I see you again later, then we’ll be best friends. Right?” He confirmed as he backed away. 

“Whatever you think, Mendes,” you said as he rolled his eyes and made his way to his seat towards the front with his hands tucked in his pockets. 

You ignored the feeling in your stomach as you walked towards your spot off to the side. 

The show took longer than necessary, and you again ignored your feelings as Shawn presented an award. 

You ducked out of the show a few minutes early, hoping to have time to find your manager to help you change before you headed off to an afterparty. 

“[Y/L/N]!” You heard from behind you as you spotted your manager. 

You turned around to see Shawn walking towards you. 

You smiled at him as he got closer. 

“You made it. We’re officially best friends,” you said sarcastically as you stepped into a corner with your manager, Shawn following. 

“What after-party are you going to?” He asked as you worked on the detachable skirt of your dress, a miniskirt waiting underneath. 

“Vanity Fair, I think,” you said slowly as you looked at your manager, and she nodded her head. 

“I can take you in my car. You know, save the environment, take fewer cars,” he rationalized. 

You gave him a questioning look as you finally detached the long skirt, and your manager put it into the garment bag. 

You didn’t miss Shawn looking you up and down. 

“Sounds good,” you said, a new hit of confidence hitting you as your manager handed you your purse. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said as she squeezed your hand and walked out. 

You followed Shawn to the front as people started to pour out. His car picked you up in the front, and you made your way to the afterparty down the street. 

You made small talk about the evening, sharing which artists deserved it and didn’t. You instantly felt comfortable with him, saying things you normally wouldn’t say to someone you’d only met once. 

The car pulled up, and Shawn opened the door for you. Cameras flashed as you quickly walked into the bar with Shawn right behind you. 

“You don’t think anyone’s going to think this is something else, right?” You said to Shawn as you got inside. 

Shawn shook his head, “Jett and I are best friends, remember? Nothing against being with his friends.”

You nodded your head slowly, “Not everyone sees it like that though.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Shawn said as he slowly pushed you further into the packed bar. 

You greeted a few friends who happened to be there, getting separated from Shawn pretty early on, occasionally seeing him from across the room or bumping into him as you both talked to everyone. 

After a few hours, you found yourself alone in a booth, drinking a bottle of water to hopefully sober yourself up for your 8:00 am meeting the next day. 

Shawn plopped in the booth across from you, also drinking water. 

You hit your bottle against his. 

“Why are you drinking water?” You asked. 

He shrugged his shoulders as he traced the sides of the bottle, “I have a writing session at 8:00 tomorrow.”

“I have a meeting at 8:00 tomorrow,” you said, raising your bottle again as he tapped his against yours. 

“Good for us,” he grumbled as you both took a sip. 

“Want to get out of here?” You said, alcohol still flowing through you. “My apartment is a few blocks away. It might be easier to get picked up there.”

Shawn nodded his head and helped you out, making your way to the back entrance. You looked both ways down the alley before slipping down it and tugging Shawn to follow. 

“You seem like you’ve done this before,” Shawn said as you came out at the other end at an empty sidewalk. 

“I do it more often than I’d like to admit,” you said with a scrunched nose. 

“This specific bar or other places?” He questioned. 

“This bar and the restaurant next to it. I love both the places, and I don’t want people catching on that I spend time there because then there’s always way too many people there,” you explained. 

“That’s how my favorite coffee shop got ruined,” he mumbled. “People saw me coming out of it like three times, and now it’s always packed. People just sit and wait there anytime I’m in town.”

“Yeah, this shit is not always fun,” you related. 

You lead him up the stairs of your building and up to your apartment on the top floor. 

“An Uber is going to take an hour,” Shawn grumbled as he followed you in. 

“Well, make yourself at home then, Mendes,” you said, gesturing to the couch. 

Shawn sat down and leaned his head back as you went into your kitchen. 

“Anything to drink?” You yelled.  

“Coffee,” he mumbled just loud enough. 

You shook your head and laughed to yourself as you started a pot. A few minutes later, you walked into your living room with two mugs. 

“Wake up, Mendes,” you border-line yelled as you nudged a mug into his hand. 

He groaned and took a sip as you sat down next to him, maybe just an inch too close. 

It stayed quiet and you let out a yawn before glancing at the clock on the wall. It was nearly 2:00 am. 

“So what do you do in a writing session?” You asked as you both faced each other and sipped at the coffee. 

“Well, I’ll meet Scott at the studio, we’ll both share any ideas we have and see what we can do with them,” he explained. 

“That’s it?” You said with a confused look. 

Shawn rolled his eyes, “It’s not that easy. There’s obviously a lot more to it.”

“Mhm, sure, ok,” you said slowly as you took a drink. 

Shawn shoved your shoulder playfully as he rested the side of his head against the couch, watching you as you stared out your window and took another drink. 

“What about your meeting?” He asked quietly. 

“A movie deal,” you said simply. “Paperwork.”

“Fun, fun,” he said back. 

“I’m glad I got the part, not glad that I have to spend five hours in a meeting that’s exactly like every other one,” you said, leaning your head as he had his, looking back at him. 

“So, where is Jett?” He asked. 

You sighed and leaned your head to the side, looking at the ceiling, knowing this was going to come up eventually.��

“As a director, he doesn’t think he should have to go to the Grammys,” you said slowly. 

“His movie won for best score.”

“I know.”

You could feel him staring at you as you refused to look at him. 

“Kind of bullshit,” Shawn finally said. 

“Yeah,” you said back as you finally turned your head to look at him, being much closer than you remember. 

“You deserve better,” he whispered. 

“You barely know me,” you said back at the same volume. 

“You’re pretty easy to get to know.”

You felt yourself get closer to him, your eyes not leaving his, until you tore them away for a moment, instantly seeing the picture on your end table of you and Jett. 

You didn’t move, your eyes not leaving the photograph. Shawn continued to look at you, before following your eyes to the photo. 

“I don’t expect you to ask me to stay,” Shawn whispered. 

“You know I can’t ask you that, Shawn,” you replied, finally looking at him. 

He nodded his head and you looked back at him, but he looked down before your eyes could meet his. 

“My Uber is here,” he whispered before standing up. 

You followed suit and followed him out of your apartment. You both could feel the guilt eating away at you as you stood at the front door of your building. 

He turned towards you and tugged you into a hug before you could change your mind. You relaxed at his touch as you felt his lips press a kiss to your cheek before he pulled away.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled. 

“I am, too,” he said before turning to walk down the stairs. 

You watched as he climbed into the car and disappeared into the unsettling darkness that came with 2:00 am. 

You made your way back up to your apartment, checking your phone for the first time all night. You sent a text to Jett congratulating his movie for winning best score before going through the pictures your manager sent you. 

You picked one with the artist of the song that won from your movie and one where you were looking off to the side and smiling. 

You knew it was when you smiled at Shawn. 

And he knew it too when he saw it the next morning. 

He stared at it for just a moment too long, admiring the glimmer in your eyes as you smiled at him. 

But you had a boyfriend. And Shawn had music to write. 

But it didn’t mean the music couldn’t be about you.

—

Your eyes were glued to the clock as you watched it slowly pass 1:30. You sat pretzel legged in the middle of your couch, not moving as you willed yourself not to cry. 

You’d give up on the dress you’d picked out around 10:00. The makeup came off shortly after, and your hair was undone just an hour ago.

You tapped your phone, hoping to see a text from Jett explaining everything. 

But still. Nothing. 

The dinner you’d made and been so proud of was picked at by you and the rest was put in the fridge. 

It was your first night off in a while, and while you loved the movie you were in, it was mostly night shoots. So you weren’t seeing Jett as frequently as you used to. 

You tapped on your phone once more before finally picking it up and dialing his number. 

It rang a few times before it picked up and you hear rustling. 

“Hey, hun, I can’t really talk right now,” he said as you could hear him trying to get somewhere quieter. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“You know I can’t fall asleep before 2:00,” you said softly. 

“Well, babe, you really should try.”

“I have,” you said harshly. 

“What’s up? What’s going on?”

“You were supposed to be here seven hours ago.”

“Shit,” he mumbled. 

“Please tell me there’s a good explanation for this,” you said, trying to keep yourself calm. 

“The guys wanted to grab drinks after today’s shoot,” he said slowly. 

“The guys? Didn’t realize you couldn’t take a night off from them to spend one with me for the first time in weeks,” you said as the anger started to bubble in your chest. 

“I’m sorry, hun, I’ll make it up to you,” he said with little emotion in his voice. 

“You can’t just say that. You say that all the time and every time you try to make it up, you forget about that, too,” you snapped. “This was my one night for another few weeks.”

“Well, I don’t know what you want me to do,” he snapped back. 

“I want you to remember when we make plans for something,” you said, standing up and walking to your window. 

“You want me to come over now?” He asked. 

You let out a sarcastic laugh, leaning your head against the cool glass. 

“No. I really don’t want to see you right now, and to be honest, I don’t know how much longer I can tolerate this,” you choked out. 

Jett was silent on the other side. 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He finally said.

“I don’t know. It’s late, and I can’t think straight right now, but I’m really fucking mad, J,” you said, his nickname rolling off your tongue before you could stop it. 

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow, ok? I promise we’ll figure this out,” he said, trying to make it sound like it meant something.

“Ok,” you said softly. 

“I love you.”

You didn’t say it back, shutting your eyes and begging tears not to fall. 

“[Y/N],” he said softly. 

“I just can’t say it right now because I’m really not feeling it,” you said, a tear slipping out. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” you quickly said before hanging up and sitting against the window sill. 

You leaned your head into your hands and let yourself cry. You sat there for what felt like hours as you questioned why you let him continue to do this to you. 

You finally stopped and leaned your head against the glass again, staring at the ceiling. 

It was 2:00 am by the time you stopped crying.

And you only knew one other person who would be up this late. 

You pressed his contact before you could convince yourself not to. 

Shawn sat on the chair in the corner of his room, scrolling through his phone and occasionally looking up to see his girlfriend’s sleeping figure. 

He was snapped out of his thoughts as he looked at her when his phone vibrated. He looked down, and his heart jumped at seeing your name. 

He quickly stood up and walked into the living room before answering. 

“Hey,” he said softly. 

“Hey,” you said through a sob. 

“Oh, [Y/N]…” he trailed off as he heard you cry. 

“I can’t do this, Shawn. I can’t fucking do this,” you sobbed, leaning your head between your knees. 

“What happened? What’s going on?” He asked frantically, walking towards the other end of the living room and hoping he didn’t wake her up. 

“I planned this shit for weeks,” you said through sobs. “I made him dinner on my one night off, and he forgot,” you said breathlessly. 

“I’m so sorry, honey,” he said quietly. 

“This is the seventh time he’s done this,” you said quietly. 

Shawn’s eyes widened as he leaned against the wall. 

“[Y/N], seven times?” He asked carefully. 

“Yeah,” you whispered back.

“You deserve better than this,” he reminded you for what felt like the hundredth time. 

“Do I?” You questioned. 

“Hey, don’t you dare fucking say that,” he snapped. “You deserve someone who would rearrange his schedule for you and would drop everything to be with you. You deserve someone who wants to be with you every minute of every day, and that’s not him.”

You went quiet, and Shawn instantly regretted snapping at you. 

“I didn’t mean for it to come out like that, but you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do,” you said. “I’m just having a really hard time believing it.”

“I know,” he responded. “But I’ll always be here to remind you that you deserve the world.”

“You would’ve given it to me,” you said before you could take it back. 

Shawn didn’t respond. He instead leaned his head against the wall and tried to make himself not say something he’d regret. 

He paced back and forth before standing in the doorway of his bedroom. He leaned against the doorframe and watched her chest rise and fall. 

“I would have,” he said. “I still would.”

You didn’t say anything this time, leaning the side of your head against your window and watching the few cars travel on the street.

“Then come over,” you said. 

Shawn let out his breath as his heart skipped a beat. The word “yes” was at the very tip of his tongue before he looked up at her. 

“You know I can’t do that,” he forced out. 

“I know,” you said. “I say stupid things at 2:00 am.”

“You and me both.”

—

It had been barely a few weeks by the time you and Jett were fighting again. You were in London for your final few weeks of filming. He was supposed to come and visit. 

He never did. 

So there you were, alone in your hotel room on one of your final nights of filming. All of your co-stars were out with friends and family in the area, but you didn’t have anyone. 

You stared at the clock on the wall, wondering if it would be worth it to meet some of them out, but you just didn’t have the energy to do it. 

You laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling before your phone started to ring. 

You picked it up and glanced at Jett’s name before waiting a few more rings and answering. 

“Hey,” you said softly. 

“Hey,” he said back. “I think we need to talk.”

“I think you’re right,” you said back, expecting him to apologize again. 

“I think we need to break up,” he said. 

Your body stilled. You could barely move your mouth as you felt like someone poured concrete on you. 

“Our schedules are just too different, and when I really sit down and think about it, I can’t see us together in the long run,” he explained. 

The weight on your body got heavier and heavier as you tried to force yourself to breathe. 

“You can’t tell me you don’t feel the same way,” he said. 

“I get it,” you choked out. “I get it,” you repeated, not being able to form any other words. 

“We can get coffee or something when you get back and talk it out,” he said. 

“Ok.”

“Bye, [Y/N],” he said before hanging up. 

You stared at the ceiling as the weight slowly pulled off you. You sat up and stared ahead at the mirror on the wall, feeling like you were looking at someone else. 

You tore your eyes away and stood up, grabbing your bag and your room key and storming out of the hotel as you let your tears fall. 

You called an Uber and gave them the address you were given last week when he found out you’d be in London. 

You pulled up to another hotel a few miles from yours, gave the receptionist your name and made your way up to his room. 

You glanced at the time as you got out of the elevator. It was 2:00 am, and you knew he’d still be awake.

You knocked on the door softly, not wanting to wake up anyone else on the floor. 

The door swung open, and you were face to face with Shawn. 

He yanked you into his room and into his arms as you broke down, sobbing into his chest. 

“He-he…Jett-he,” you tried to choke out as Shawn just hugged you tighter. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” he reassured you as he rested his cheek to the top of your head and ran his hands up and down your back. 

After a few minutes, your sobs died down, and you looked up at him. 

“He broke up with me,” you said with a confused look on your face. “He broke up with me. Over the phone.”

“He’s a piece of shit, [Y/N]. I don’t know how many times I can say it for you to get it like everyone else does,” he said with a shake of his head as he tugged you further into the small kitchen. 

You rested your elbows against the counter and leaned your head in your hands. 

“I can’t believe I let this happen,” you whispered. 

“It’s not your fault,” Shawn whispered as he slid you a bottle of water. 

“It really feels like it.”

“You know that’s not true.”

It stayed quiet as you sipped at the bottle he handed you. After a moment, he rested a hand on your back and led you to the couch in the corner. 

You sat down next to him as he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you tight to his chest. 

“What can I do to make you feel better?” He whispered. 

“Just this,” you said softly. 

Shawn nodded his head and continued to hold you close, the silence becoming deafening. 

“That night we first met,” you whispered. “I should’ve known that night.”

Shawn didn’t say anything, letting you process whatever emotions you needed to. 

“He ditched me on one of the nights I was really looking forward to and then when I met you…” you trailed off, unsure of how to phrase it. 

“I know,” Shawn said softly. 

���I don’t think you do,” you said, feeling your throat tighten again. 

“No, I do,” Shawn said as you looked up at him. He ran his thumb along your cheek, wiping away your tears. “I felt the same way.”

You looked back down at your lap, the weight of “felt” pressing against your chest harder than your break up did. 

“I get it,” you said softly. 

“I wish it was different,” he said as he tried to meet your eyes. “But I can’t just feel that feeling twice.”

“But I-“ Shawn cut you off. 

“[Y/N],” he said softly. “Please don’t.”

You stayed quiet, resting your head against his chest again as he ran his hand up and down your arm. 

“You just broke up with Jett. You’re in a different city, a different country. It’s 2:00 am,” he explained. “I don’t want you saying something you don’t entirely mean. We both do too good of a job at that at this time.”

You nodded your head against his chest, not wanting to look up and see the look on his face. 

“You can stay,” he whispered. “I have a spare bedroom,” he said before you could get your hopes up. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled. 

The two of you stayed there as you both breathed deeply, both feeling how fast the other’s heart was beating. 

But no one said anything. 

You found yourself dozing off as you could feel Shawn's heartbeat slow back down to normal, his arm staying securely around you.

Shawn eventually felt your breathing even out as you fell asleep against his chest. He stayed still for a while, making sure you were really asleep before he carefully picked you up to carry you to the spare bedroom. 

He walked into the untouched room and carefully set you on the edge of the bed before moving the covers back on the other side. He picked you up again and placed you in the bed, pulling the covers over you. 

He sat on the edge of the bed and could feel your knee against his back as he looked over at you. 

His heart skipped a beat, and he felt the same way he did when you smiled at him for the first time. 

He toyed with his phone between his thumb and his finger before looking at the time. It was 2:30. He hit her contact before he could let himself think it through. 

“Hey, you’re up late,” her voice rang through the phone as he heard her walking down a busy street. 

“Yeah,” he choked out as he stood up, careful not to wake you. 

But not careful enough.

He closed the door slightly behind him and leaned against the wall on the other side as your eyes opened to watch him walk out the door. 

“[Y/N] showed up at my door. Jett broke up with her,” he explained. 

“Oh,” she said on the other side. 

He heard a door slam and then silence. 

“You don’t have to say it,” she said. 

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Really, I should have seen this coming. You always answered her phone calls at 2:00 am, yet I could never seem to get ahold of you at any time of day,” she paused and took a deep breath. “Damn, I really should have seen this coming.”

Shawn could hear the hesitation in her voice. 

“Can we talk more when I get back?” He asked.

“I’d rather not,” she said as he heard her voice break. 

Before Shawn could say anything else, she mumbled goodbye and hung up. 

He took a deep breath and slid down the wall, still oblivious to you being awake less than ten feet away, having heard everything. 

Shawn stood up and walked back into the room. He froze when he saw you sitting up and staring at him with tears in your eyes. 

“Why did you do that?” You choked out in barely a whisper. 

Shawn hung his head and ran his hands over his face, not thinking he’d have to explain this so soon. 

“I had to,” he finally said. 

You simply nodded your head, too emotionally exhausted to actually talk it out. So instead, you lifted the other side of the covers. 

Shawn shuffled around the bed and climbed in beside you. He didn’t hesitate to pull you into his side. Your body fit around his like two puzzle pieces as you traced shapes along his chest. 

“I don’t know what to say right now,” Shawn said after a few minutes of silence.

“Me neither,” you responded. 

Silence filled the room once again as you both were wide awake. Shawn stared at the ceiling and thought of a million things he could say to you, but none of them were right. 

But at this point, with the night you two had had, Shawn decided it wasn’t worth holding back. 

“That night, when we first met,” Shawn began. “When you smiled at me from across the carpet, at that moment, I would’ve given up everything for you.”

You didn’t say anything. 

“I had barely known you for five minutes, and if you would’ve asked me to give up everything and run away with you, I would’ve done it,” he paused. “And I’d still do it.”

You pushed yourself up to rest your chin on his chest and look up at him. 

“What if we did?” you whispered. 

“I’d do it for you in a heartbeat,” Shawn said without hesitation as he looked into your eyes. 

You tore your eyes away from his as you rested your cheek against his chest again, staring at the fireplace across the room. 

“We really say a lot of things we don’t mean this late,” you forced out. 

“Yeah, we do.”

You woke up at 6:00 am, confused until you remembered what had all happened the night before. You looked to your side to see Shawn’s face just inches from yours, his hand resting gently on your hip. 

You slowly got out of bed and slipped on your shoes discarded by the door. You reached for the handle but hesitated before turning it. 

You quickly turned around and found the pad of paper on the desk. You scribbled down a quick note and set it on the pillow next to Shawn’s head before pressing a longing kiss to his forehead. 

You were gone before he woke up. 

When he reached over for someone, no one was there. He sat up, also confused as to what just happened until the weight of the world came crashing down. 

He quickly stood up and walked out to the living room, looking back and forth and listening carefully, hoping you were just on the balcony or in the other room. 

But there was nothing. 

Shawn turned around and walked back into the room, seeing the note on his pillow. 

He stood by the doorway for a moment too long before forcing himself to read it. 

You and I have 2 things in common: we’re always awake at 2 am, and we have a habit of saying things we regret at 2 am. We both know this wasn’t supposed to work. I’m sorry. 

—

The premier for Everything and More was exactly as the title implied. The crew went all out to incapacitate the dreamy feeling the film offered. Fairy lights lined the carpet, and your pure white dress said everything it had to about who your character was. 

And who you were now.

It had been over a year since you finished the movie in London, and after a few too many reshoots and press tours, it was finally being released.  

Cameras flashed, and you smiled big among your costars, laughing with each other and knowing it would never be like this again. 

You were whisked along the carpet before you were onstage to start the movie. You stood alongside your male co-star and laughed with him as the director said a few thank yous. Once it was his turn to talk, you turned towards the audience. 

And you saw him. 

He sat off to the side, a crisp grey suit and his hair just a bit too long with the lights reflecting off the chain on his neck. 

And he was looking at you. 

You tore your eyes away before he could even smile at you. You’d do things you’d regret if you saw that smile.

Your co-star nudged you and handed you the microphone as you tried to remember the things you were supposed to say. 

“I just wanted to thank everyone so much for coming tonight,” you started as everyone else did. “I really put my heart and soul into this movie, we all did, and I’m so proud of it and what we did,” you said as the director squeezed your hand, noticing you shaking.

“Um...as far as thank you’s, I always have to thank my amazing manager and my team, my parents and my high school drama teacher,” you paused, taking a deep breath. “I went through quite a bit during this filming, as everyone here, unfortunately, had to deal with,” you said with a smile as everyone laughed lightly with faint smiles.

“But with what this film is and who the character is and what I learned about myself while doing it, is something I can never fully encapsulate into words,” you said, looking over to your co-star as he winked at you before looking into the audience again and catching his eye once more. 

“If you can learn anything from this movie, I hope you learn how precious time is. How quickly it can go away and how easily you can feel like you’re living the same thing over and over again,” you said, your eyes not leaving his. “And while time may not always be on your side, it’s on our sides in ways we sometimes don’t realize until years later.”

“I hope you love it as much as I do,” you said with a smile as you finally tore your eyes away from his.

Everyone went offstage to find their spots up front and watch the movie. 

Everything clicked into place when you recognized the voice singing in the background of the pivotal scene in the movie where you apologized to the love of your life. 

Everything felt eerily ironic. The song hit you in ways you didn’t expect. 

But a surprise to yourself, you didn’t cry. You weren’t the same girl you were when that scene was shot in London over a year ago. You were everything and more. 

The movie ended and the cast moved around to talk to everyone about the movie. You were caught up in conversation with someone when you looked up and saw him.

Your heart leaped out of your chest, and you offered him a soft smile before turning back to who you were talking to. 

You ended up at a bar down the street with some other people from the movie, laughing and reminiscing with a drink in your hand before going off to dance. 

You felt a hand rest on your back, and you turned around, expecting to see your co-star. 

“Mind if I dance with you?” He whispered against your ear. 

“You already know my answer,” you whispered back as he pulled you close against his body and your arms found their way around his neck. 

“I loved the movie.”

“I loved the song.”

An hour later and you were still wrapped up in his arms, the time ticking dangerously closer to 2:00 am as neither of you said a word, instead just enjoying the feeling of his arms around you for the first time in over a year. 

One tap on your hip and you followed him to a secluded corner. 

“It’s been a while,” Shawn said, breaking the silence as he leaned against the wall. 

You crossed your arms and leaned against the wall opposite of him. “I guess it has.”

“You were amazing, by the way,” he said. “That part was made for you.”

You nodded your head slowly before saying, “I didn’t know you had the main song in it.”

Shawn didn’t say anything, focusing on the wall behind you. 

“You could’ve warned me,” you whispered, barely audible. “I don’t want to jump to conclusions, and I could be completely wrong, but that song kind of sounded like it could be about-”

He cut you off with just a look. 

“It is,” he said softly. “They all are. Have been for a while.”

You took a deep breath, resting your head back against the wall. 

“I always thought you’d eventually call.”

“I didn’t think that was the best idea. I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me,” he responded. 

“I always want to hear from you.”

“That’s not what you made it sound like.”

It went silent as you played with the edge of your dress, trying to figure out how you were supposed to articulate that you felt the same way now as you did that first night. 

“Shawn, I-“ he cut you off with a sigh. 

“I know,” he said quietly. 

“I have a feeling you don’t.”

“Then tell me,” he said with that tone in his voice that made you want to tell him all your secrets.

“I didn’t leave because of you. I left because of me,” you started. “Jett had been my life for a long time, and I identified myself way too close to that. If I had woken up beside you, and let myself live in it, I would’ve done the same thing. And I couldn’t let myself live like that again.”

“Do you still love me?” He asked. 

“Who said I ever did?” You said, keeping a straight face. 

“That night, you almost said it,” he reminded you. “And I stopped you because I was still with my girlfriend.”

You simply nodded your head, already fully aware of that moment. 

“I should have let you say it,” he finally said. “Because I would have said the same thing.”

Your inhibitions went out the window, and you took a step closer to him, closing the small distance between the two of you. 

“Then say it,” you whispered. 

His hand snaked around your waist, pulling you the last few centimeters into his chest. 

“I’m in love with you,” he said, his nose barely brushing against yours. 

Your heart leaped out of your chest, yet again reminding you of the feelings that never left. 

“I’m in love with you. I think I have been for a lot longer than I’d like to admit,” you responded. 

“Is it bad I want to kiss you?” He asked, his nose brushing against yours again. 

“2:00 am is a bad time for us to be making decisions like this,” you reminded him.

“I have a feeling this isn’t a bad one,” he said, finally closing the distance between you. 

REBLOG! REPLY! COMMENT! SHARE! SEND ME LOVE! AN ASK! A MESSAGE!

Real talk this is my first fic in a hot minute (since Ficmas) because I’ve felt so uninspired and I was so freaking happy to feel that inspiration again while writing this so PLEASE send me affirmations bc a bitch needs them with the year she’s been having

#Mine #Sm #Fics #Shawn Mendes #Shawn Mendes imagines #Shawn Mendes smut #Shawn Mendes imagine #Shawn Mendes fluff #Shawn Mendes angst #Shawn Mendes series #Shawn Mendes fic #Shawn Mendes fan fic #Shawn Mendes fan fiction #Shawn Mendes x reader #Reader x Shawn Mendes #Shawn Mendes writing #Shawn Mendes blurb #Shawn Mendes oneshot #Shawn Mendes fanfic #Shawn Mendes story #Shawn Mendes fanfiction #Shawn Mendes stories #Shawn Mendes words #Shawn Mendes fics #Shawn Mendes one shot #Shawn Mendes au #Shawn Mendes non au #Shawn Mendes blurbs

[btsslowburnfic]

Sonata Third Movement

z

The dear @omgalyssag17​ asked: hi i saw you have your requests open and was wondering if you’d be interested in writing a story where Yoongi moves into a haunted apartment/house (human!yoongi x ghost!reader pairing). i like giving authors lots of room for creativity so let your imagination flow. 

Summary: Yoongi is vacationing at a haunted lake house. [Y/N] has been masquerading as her “sister.” Our [Y/N] will be discovered to be a ghost. 7k words. Fluffy and Angst. 

 AN: Thanks for everyone’s patience with this piece. I really like the way it turned out <3 

First Movement 

Second Movement

------------------- ”Please Yoongi the dock,” You said, feeling like parts of you were slowly being taken off. It was like you were a fish having their scales removed.

Yoongi barely had words for what he was seeing. Where Elise had been sitting, it looked as though someone had taken a transparency and placed it in the middle of the boat. Where her face had been, it looked like a painting that someone had walked up and smeared. What the hell was going on? He could hear a voice coming from the other side of the boat, and it sounded like Elise’s but covered in static. He shook his head, as though this was a dream or a vision he could simply end. “Please, dock, Yoongi.” he could make out. Ok. Stay calm, he thought. He was in the lake. He needed to get to the dock. Maybe he was having a stroke or something. Stay calm. 

He took his shaky hands and grabbed the oars, slowly rowing the boat back to the dock. He steadied his breathing and looked away from the unsettling sight across from him. As he got closer, he could hear you again more clearly.

“That hurts so bad, please Yoongi.”

His heart clenched at the amount of pain it sounded like you were in. “We’re almost back to the dock,” He forced himself to say calmly.

He looked back over. You looked normal once again. He slowly reached down for his phone which was still in picture taking mode. He held it up and looked at you through the screen. Nothing was there. He moved his phone aside and saw you. He repeated this a few times, his eyes growing wider each time.

You were starting to feel better physically. You looked over at Yoongi and saw what he was doing. Shit. Shit. He looked terrified. You felt your eyes start to tear up once again. 

“What’s going on?” He asked, mostly to himself. He shook his head and pushed more buttons on his phone.

“It’s not your phone, Yoongi. It’s me.” You cried. 

Yoongi sat there with his mouth open, staring. He felt bad that you were crying but he was also very confused. 

“I’m a ghost. I’m [Y/N].” You sobbed. 

The boat arrived at the dock. You quickly got out of the boat, not caring about how, and you flung off your life jacket, running toward the house.

Yoongi sat there for a long time, processing what had just happened. A ghost? 

You ran into the house crying and went into the guest bedroom. Stupid stupid ghost. Stupid cancer. This wasn’t fair. You were so angry and upset. All you wanted to do was spend one nice day with the first person who had been nice to you in a decade. You had been a good person, what had you done to deserve this?

Yoongi slowly tied up the boat and placed the lifejackets back where they belonged. He walked up and sat on the back deck, thinking about what to do next. He puffed out his cheeks. Were you actually a ghost? Was he having a medical emergency? He felt fine, other than the fact that he had seen some weird shit a few minutes ago.  He looked back through the pictures on his phone. There were pictures of the lake, dock, and house that he had taken for Jin. And then there was the photo of the empty rowboat. But you were real to him. You had played the piano. Worn a lifejacket. Talked to him. Shared food with him. You had even put a blanket on him when he was sleeping. There was no one else out here that could have done that.

He shook his hair out of his face and opened the sliding glass door. “[Y/N]?” he called out tentatively into the house. He moved closer to the guest bedroom and heard you softly crying. He knocked on the door. “[Y/N]?”

You froze, was Yoongi actually talking to you? You got up and walked over to the door. You opened it up ever so slightly.

“How can you be a ghost when I can see you?” He asked. Like this was normal.

You laughed, a sad snotty sound. “I don’t know. I don’t know how ghost rules work. You couldn’t see me the first day.”

Yoongi thought back. “You moved my bag outside.” 

“Sorry.” You looked down at your feet.

“But you also made me coffee?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Being a ghost is confusing. I thought you would be another rude person, but you turned out to be nice.” You replied.

Yoongi laughed, slightly incredulously. “So I couldn’t see you at first. But now I can. Can most people see you?”

He was interested and not scared? This was strange, you thought. “No. You’re the first person in ten years who I’ve been able to talk to or see.”

“And you can’t leave here?” He rubbed his chin with his hand. 

“No. If I could I would. I don’t know where I’d go. I guess I’d travel as a ghost, or go to heaven or hell or whatever is supposed to be next. I’ve wondered a few times if this is hell. But it doesn’t feel bad enough to be hell. Maybe it’s just heck. I’m stuck in heck for some reason.”

“You seem like a very sweet person. I doubt you’d go to hell or even heck if those places exist.” Yoongi leaned against the doorway. You couldn’t believe you two were having this conversation.

“Well, I’m stuck here and have been for ten years. Watching my dog die, my parents sob uncontrollably, and people come and desecrate my beautiful home and piano, so this isn’t exactly what I would consider a nice existence.” 

Yoongi moved his lips to the side, pursed in thought. “Yeah. That does sound pretty awful. Maybe you have unfinished business? You know in ghost movies there’s always something like that.”

“I never really watched ghost movies,” you responded.

“Me neither, too scary. But I’ve read a few webtoons. Let’s see. You weren’t murdered. Do you have a crazy ex-boyfriend? Unrequited love?”

“No. No. None of those things. Is that really a thing?”

“I don’t know, up until about 20 minutes ago I didn’t think ghosts were real, so what do I know? I’m just trying to come up with ideas.” He said, fluffing his black hair.

At the same time the two of you reached the same conclusion. “The music.” 

“Alright. So we can finish the composition and then maybe you can get out of Lakehouse heck.” Yoongi theorized. “And if you can’t, I’m buying the Lakehouse anyway so at least maybe it would be light heck.”

You started to smile. “Really?”

“Yep. It’s the perfect place for a getaway. Jin and I can come fishing. My friend Namjoon could go hiking. It’s great.”

“That’s so amazing. I don’t even know what to say. To know that people’s kids won’t be putting their nasty sticky hands all over my things….Thank you so much Yoongi, I really appreciate it.” You gave him a shy smile. You couldn’t believe he was still talking to you even though he knew you were a ghost. 

“You’re welcome. Now let’s go work on that music.” He turned back down the hallway and into the living room humming to himself.

The rest of the afternoon wore on easily, with you each trying different chords and progressions to see what would fit. Unfortunately it still didn’t sound right, but you did enjoy spending time with Yoongi especially now that you didn’t feel like a liar.

It was starting to get dark out. Yoongi stood up and stretched his arms overhead.

“Don’t you need to eat, alive person?” You asked, turning around on the bench to face him.

“I guess I should. Wait a minute. You’ve been eating and stuff as well. How does that work? Do you normally eat?” He got a very confused look on his face (y’all know the one I’m talking about).

You shrugged your shoulders, “I don’t understand ghost science. I haven’t been eating or drinking the last 10 years. You have magic ghost powers or something. I still don’t feel hungry or thirsty...or need to use the bathroom. But I can interact with food.”

“Huh. Weird. Alright Ghosty, just in case these are your last few days eating food before you pass on from Lake House heck, what do you want to eat?”

You laughed, he had given you a nickname, so cute. STOP IT, you admonished yourself. “Hmm...Kimchi fried rice?” You asked.

“You got it,” He walked over to the kitchen and started taking groceries out. You turned back to the piano and looked back over the music once again. The piece was very sad and slow tempoed. It sounded great, but then at what would be the halfway point it got lost. You played the last few bars again and again. 

“Walk away for a while,” You heard Yoongi yell from the kitchen. 

“It’s so frustrating.” You replied as you followed his advice and got up, joining him at the kitchen island. You took some scissors and began cutting the kimchi.

“I know. I hate it when I get stuck on something. I have music living on my computer for years. Sometimes we end up using it. It didn’t sound right at the time, but after a while it does.” He said as he put rice into the pan.

“Well it’s been ten years and It’s still just sitting there,” you pouted.

“Yeah but if you’re not having new experiences it’s also hard to write. Being in here and doing the same thing can’t be good for our creative process.”

“That’s true. Well. Thank goodness these few days have been different, maybe they’ll jumpstart my creativity.” You smiled while moving the cutting board next to the pan for him.

“So, I know you are not your own sister. Was everything else true?” He asked, tentatively. He didn’t want to upset you but he was curious.

“Yep. Piano composer. Cancer. Dead dog. Sad parents. Ghost. That’s me.” You sighed and got some plates out.

“I’m sure there’s more to you than that. What did you do when you were alive and felt well?” He asked.

You thought about it for a minute. You could hardly remember. You hadn’t thought about that part of being alive in a long time.

“Are you ok? If it’s a problem don’t worry about answering.” Yoongi said as he stirred the food.

“No, sorry. I just. I haven’t thought about it in so long I’m having trouble remembering. I think I liked reading. I still do actually. But I’ve read every book in here 50 times and people rarely ever forget their books.”

“We need to get you an e-reader.”

“What’s that?” You wrinkled your forehead.

“Do you know what tablets are?”

“Like big phones?”

“Yes. So you can get books on your tablet and then you can just swap them out or whatever.”

“With what, my ghost money?” You teased. You knew he was trying to be nice.

“Well the next time I come back up here I can bring you some books, Ghosty. No worries.”

Your tiny ghost heart was pounding inside your chest. Maybe being stuck here wasn’t so bad.

 Yoongi finished cooking and the two of you ate in relative silence as you enjoyed the food. You noticed him yawning several times throughout the meal.

“Go sleep, I’ll clean up.” You encouraged as he got up to wash his plate.

“You don’t need to do that.” 

“You made a ghost dinner. The least I can do is clean the dishes.” You joined him by the sink. 

He involuntarily yawned again. “Yeah, ok. I should probably sleep before I get awake again. Thanks.”

You finished up the dishes and looked over at the keyboard. Nah. It wasn’t going to happen tonight.

Day 5

You woke up to the smell of coffee and walked out into the main area. Yoongi was sitting at his computer with headphones on so you headed over to pour yourself some coffee.

You let the hot liquid fill your body, enjoying the way it tasted. The first cup always hit the best. 

Yoongi was in the zone so you quietly let yourself out onto the back porch. Another foggy day. Oh well. You knew better than to try going out to the lake again, you shuddered, remembering the sensation of slowly having your body peeled apart. You tried to once again remember what you enjoyed doing when you were alive. You remembered books, coffee, and your dog. And the piano. Were there other things and you forgot them? Did you have friends? You probably did, right? Thinking about it hurt your head. 

You heard the door open. “Hey, I didn’t hear you get up.” Yoongi said, plopping down on the bench across from you.

“You were in the zone so I just snuck out. Thanks for the coffee.” You took a sip from the mug.

“No problem,” he swiped his tongue across his lips. “So you’re still a ghost right? That wasn’t some weird fever dream from yesterday. Right? 

You laughed. “Still a ghost.”

“What do you want to do today?” He asked.

“What do you mean? Aren’t you here to work?”

“I did some work, but now I want to help you get out of heck. You need to do some stuff other than re-read the same books.”

“Like what? I can’t leave here. And the reception sucks so there’s not even anything on tv.” You shrugged.

“Come on, I downloaded some shows onto my laptop. We can watch something.”

“Ok.” You said surprised, you hadn’t planned on really spending the day with Yoongi. You followed him into the house and watched him grab his laptop and sit it on the coffee table. He walked over and took your mug, taking it into the kitchen for a refill.

He returned to the couch, sitting your coffee on a coaster next to the laptop. “You coming Ghosty?” 

“Yeah, sorry.” You snapped back into it. You had been so taken back by him being so nice to you. 

The two of you settled in watching some show about basketball. It wasn’t the most interesting thing to you but it was a nice change of pace and it was a good opportunity for you to get some creepy stares int. 

“I used to play basketball,” Yoongi said suddenly, breaking the silence.

“Oh? Cool. I don’t think I played any sports. Piano recitals and rehearsal were all I had time for.” You responded while still watching the movie.

Yoongi was half watching the movie. He had seen it so many times before, he didn’t really need to pay attention. He had spent a lot of time last night thinking about how weird this whole thing was but he had decided to just go with it. Maybe he was going crazy. Maybe you were a ghost. Either way, he was going to stay the rest of the week here and try to make them the best days you had had for a while. He didn’t know why it was so important to him. He could have packed up and left yesterday after the boat incident, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. He wanted to fix the music. He wanted to fix you if he could.

He looked over at you. What had happened wasn’t fair. He found himself getting irritated at the unfairness of life again. You seemed so nice so why had this happened to you? He looked back at the screen. And why was he relating so much to a ghost? He had asked himself all of these questions last night and still hadn’t settled on an answer. The show ended. Yoongi leaned forward and closed the laptop.

“Hey. Could you play some of your other music for me?” He asked, turning to face you. 

You were surprised. It had been a while, but surely you could remember some of it. You stood up, stretching after you had been sitting for so long.

“Sure. Happy or sad?” You asked, sitting down at the piano. 

“Sad first, then happy.” Yoongi replied from the couch.

“Ok.” You stretched your fingers along the keyboard, warming them up a bit at first. You played one of your early compositions. It was low and slow and sad. A feeling of emptiness and cold was captured in the movements.

“That was really good.” Yoongi said, standing up and moving over to the computer chair next to the bench. “Now, something happy.”

You moved your hands much quicker this time, playing a lively number inspired by Carnivale. If this song was a color it would be pink, yellow, red, and orange. You finished to Yoongi’s polite applause. “Thank you, thank you,” you smiled and gave a fake bow. “Alright. Your turn.”

“Me?” He gestured to himself.

“Yep. You said you play as well. I’ve heard you play my piece, now play one of yours.” 

“Alright,” he got up and sat down next to you before you had a chance to get up. You tried to not focus on how your thighs were pressed together or how he leaned across your body when he played the lower notes. It's a good thing you didn’t need to breathe to stay alive because you wouldn’t have been able to. He was very good and played his work with so much passion.

He played the final chord and looked over to see you staring at him in awe.  “Sorry, you’re just really good.”

He looked away, touching his ear and becoming shy. “Thanks. You should try to play it.”

“I haven’t played new music in forever. And that is sooo not my style.” You laughed.

“It’s good to try different styles of music. Come on, I’ll teach you.” He picked up your hand and placed it on the keyboard. Well, you couldn’t say ‘no’ to that. 

The two of you slowly worked through the song.  Yoongi thought it was cute to watch you try to learn. You stuck out your tongue slightly when you were concentrating. “Ughh I keep messing this part up.” You took your hands off the keys and shook them out.

His deep voice reverberated in a laugh next to you. “You’re doing great. Start this part over.” He played it once more.

You sighed, annoyed with yourself. “I haven’t learned new music in ten years, I forgot how hard it was.” You start to copy his finger movements, this time getting it right. 

“There you go. Now you’ll have a new song for your performance repertoire.” Yoongi smiled, looking over at you. 

You turned and looked at him as well. “Yeah I guess. I do like the song but I’d rather listen to you play it.” The sky had grown darker throughout the day. You looked away from Yoongi and out the back windows. “I wonder if it will storm again today.”

“Why? Are you going to lock me out in the rain again?” he teased. You spun back around.

“That was an accident.” 

He laughed, “No, I think it was a plan to get me to enter a wet t-shirt contest.”

You would have blushed if you could. “Hey, don’t flatter yourself mister. You shouldn’t mess with a thirsty ghost.”

He chuckled, “Please the first thing you said to me was that I looked good soaking wet.”

“Stooooopppp you weren’t supposed to be able to see me!” You pouted. “I was a good ghost. I didn’t stare at you sleeping or watch you in the shower or anything creepy like that.”

Yoongi thought this was hilarious. “You thought about it though, right?”

“Ahhh I need to go.” You started to scoot over. You were shocked when he grabbed your hand gently.

“I’m just teasing you. If it’s actually making you uncomfortable I’ll stop.”

“You’re making me feel like a pervert. And I am trying really hard not to be because you are very very hot.” You let it fall out of your mouth.

“Oh?” Yoongi asked, half-feigning surprise. He knew you thought he looked good, he was just trying to get a rise out of you.

You scowled. “You know that. Don’t even.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He said, batting his eyelashes. 

“You’re flirting with me!” You scoffed. “Flirting with a ghost.”

It was Yoongi’s turn to act bothered. “What? No. I am joking around with my incorporeal friend.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Huh.”

He shook his hair out of his face. “I’m going to go make food.”

“He can dish it out, but he can’t take it.” You teased as he got up and headed to the kitchen. You had noticed his blushing.

“Quiet ghost woman. I’m off to the kitchen. It’s ramyeon tonight.”

You laughed and turned back around to the piano, playing a few notes. That sounded pretty good, you thought. You added them on to the composition and they blended so well.

“Hey, that sounded great,” Yoongi encouraged from the kitchen. You smiled having finally made some real progress.

“Thanks!” You played it through again. It blended together really well. Satisfied you walked away and joined Yoongi in the kitchen. “That smells so good.”

“Thanks.” He stirred the noodles in more thoroughly. “It’s almost ready.”

You took down some bowls and laid out the utensils. Yoongi served the food. The kitchen was quiet save for the sounds of slurping for several minutes,

“This is so good. Thank you for making it.” You said as you were finishing up.

“No problem. I’m glad you like it.” Yoongi smiled his adorable gummy smile at you, causing your ghost heart to skip a beat. 

You got up and gathered the dishes. When you were finished, you saw Yoongi standing in the middle of the living room messing with the tv. 

He looked up at you, “Alright. You mentioned Karaoke the other day. Let’s do it.” Yoongi smiled.

You were intrigued but confused. “How? We don’t have any equipment.”

“I have an app downloaded on my phone. My friends love to sing and they make us do karaoke for work sometimes so I have a ton of songs downloaded. Here….” He got his phone out. “The lyrics should show up on the screen, you sing into the speaker and then it will score you. But...I am not a good singer so don’t expect anything.”

You laughed, “Oh wow. I can’t remember the last time I went out for karaoke. Ok. I am also not a good singer. But let’s try it. Wait. I won’t know any songs though!” You whined. You were excited though.

“I have a ton of classics downloaded, I’m sure you will know some of these songs.” Yoongi handed you his phone. “Here, find something. I’ll be right back.”

You scrolled through his phone and he was right, he did have a lot of songs that you did know. You picked one and it started to play. “I’m only doing this because I can’t die of embarrassment, given the situation,” You joked.

He returned with two glasses of red wine. He handed you a glass as the music started. “Thanks. Cheers. I dedicate this song to………..” you paused for effect,” Yoongi! Please don’t let the score reflect my levels of gratitude.” You joked. You took a gulp of wine. Oops. And started to sing. It wasn’t good, but you had fun. Yoongi drank wine and opened some of the back windows, allowing the air from the lake to blow in through the living room. 

You finished. “Your score is….68 points.” The computer voice read off. 

You cackled. “I told you! Ok. Please. Please. Do better than that.” You handed Yoongi the phone and went to sit on the couch. You sipped the wine. 

“No promises.” He said as he scrolled through some songs. Deciding on his song, he began to sing. It started out really good, but soon the notes became too high and it turned into shrieking.  You covered your ears jokingly. He finished the song.

“Your score is...58 points.” The system stated. 

“See? I told you,” He was laughing, his gummy smile gleaming in the dimly lit living room.

“Wow. So we are both terrible? Great. Ok.Let’s really make it mad. Pick a duet.” You suggested, standing up to join him in the middle of the room.

“Ok, so our score should be around 61.” He laughed.

“Averaging out how terrible we are?” You asked as he scrolled through his phone.

“Absolutely. Ok, do you know this one?” He asked, showing you the song title.

“Of course I do.” You took another sip of the wine and sat it down on the coffee table.

The music started with the female part first, you sang near the phone that was in Yoongi’s hand. It was so not good and he was trying not to laugh at you. His part came up and it was also a train wreck. He blushed at how terrible he sounded and then grabbed your hand, sitting the phone down on the coffee table. You looked confused.

“We’re going to score like 30.” He put his hand on your waist and started swaying to the beat starting to dance. It was a medium tempo song that the two of you rocked and forth to.

“You’re right. This is a much better use of the song.” You laughed as he spun you around ever so slightly. You couldn’t remember the last time you had this much fun.

The song ended much too quickly. Yoongi tried to make sure it wasn’t awkward by asking if you wanted to sing some more or dance. 

“I’m terrible at both, but I’d rather dance.” You said, blushing slightly.

“Alright then.” Yoongi queued up a playlist and sat his phone down. 

He offered you his hand once more and the two of you gently swayed to the song. “You do have a lot of older music.” 

“Yeah. I like to sample all sorts of genres and decades for when I create music. I feel like it helps my work have a more organic feel to it.” 

“That makes sense.” The two of you danced for a few more songs, gently swaying in the dimly lit living room. The lake breeze blowing through your hair added an extra element to the scene of the two of you dancing. It felt like you were at a prom or wedding, but it was actually somewhere you wanted to be. You gently sighed into Yoongi’s shoulder. 

“You ok?” He asked.

“Just happy.” You responded without a lot of thought.

“Good.” 

The playlist ended. You pulled away smiling. “Thanks. That was fun.” 

“My pleasure. I’ve never danced with a ghost before.” Yoongi smiled at you shyly.

“That you know of.” You teased.

“Oh. A good point.” He laughed as he sat back down on the couch, drinking some more of the wine. “Come here.” 

You walked over and sat next to him. He picked up his phone. “Will you take a picture with me?”

You smirked. “Are you drunk? Remember? I don’t show up in pictures.”

He looked at you suddenly very seriously and said softly, “No. But I’ll know you were there.”

  You felt your face warm up and you scooted over as he held up the phone and took a selfie. Just as predicted, it looked like Yoongi was sitting with a person-sized space next to him. “Perfect. You look great.”

You laugh. “Thanks. Thanks for today.” You folded your legs underneath you. 

Yoongi sat the phone down on the table and then leaned back on the couch. He stretched his arms up overhead and then gently placed one around your shoulders. He tentatively asked, “Is this ok?”

You were in complete shock so it took you a minute to gather the words. “...yes. Yes.” You leaned into it.

Yoongi gently ran his fingers through your hair. You sat there in utter disbelief that any of this was happening. You were a combination of elated but sad. You were so happy it was happening, but so sad you couldn’t have met him when you were alive.

“Yoongi.” You turned to look at him. “This is probably a bad idea.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh. Sorry. Do you want me to stop?” He asked, lifting his hand away from you.

“No. I don’t. I’m really happy. I just. I’m a ghost. This whole whatever….won’t end well.”

Yoongi looked down at first and then at you. “I thought about this last night. If you’re trying to protect my feelings, don’t worry about it. I like you. I get that you’re a ghost. I get that a relationship isn’t feasible. But I also like you and I would like for you to be happy.”

“Oh. Ok.” You turned back and looked into the middle of the room, Yoongi resumed running his fingers through your hair. Before long, you felt his hands slow down and tiny snores coming out of his lips. You smiled and gently pulled away. You grabbed a blanket and covered him before you returned to your room for the evening. You felt the happiest you had ever felt in your whole life.

Day 6

You woke up to a gentle knocking on your door. Seeing as you didn’t actually need sleep, it was easy enough for you to wake up and reply, “Yes?”

“Can I come in?” You heard Yoongi ask.

“Of course.” You sat up all the way.

Yoongi opened the door, holding a cup of coffee in his hands. “Good morning. “

“Hey,” you smiled.  He walked over and handed you the cup. “For me?”

Yoongi nodded and sat on the side of the bed. “Alright. So. If you could redo your last day. Knowing it was your last. What would you do?”

“Oh wow. Well...I haven’t thought about it before. But this,” you gestured to the coffee in your hands, “is a great start.”

“Well, that’s what I want to do today. Whatever you want.”

You take a minute to process this. You had never asked yourself this question before.

“Ok. I want to go out on the Lake, but not too far. I want to drink lots of coffee. I want to read part of a new book. I want to play a board game. And I want to finish the song.” You said, satisfied with your list. 

“Alright. Well, that sounds like a full day, so get up.” Yoongi hit the bed with his hand. “I’ll get the boat ready.”

You drank the rest of the coffee and looked out the windows. You saw Yoongi down at the dock getting the life jackets out. He was really such a great guy. You felt your heart simultaneously flutter and ache. You walked over to the piano and started to play. It sounded good. Happy and sad. You added it to the score. You chugged one more cup of coffee, grateful for your ghost bladder and headed out to join Yoongi.

Yoongi left the boat gently tethered to the dock this time, allowing you to enjoy the views without fear of drifting off. He shared some really funny stories about his 6 friends. You probably could have stayed out there all day listening to him, if not for his growling stomach.

“I guess that’s our cue.” You said. You looked over and saw that Yoongi had taken a picture of you. “More pretend photos?” You teased.

“Nope. Pictures of you.” He said, putting his phone back in his pocket and pulling the boat back to the dock.

When you got back up Yoongi handed you his phone. “Here, this is the kindle app. You can get samples of different books. Pick one.” He headed into the kitchen to cook. You scanned a few titles and downloaded one of them.

You started reading, opting to skip food so you could continue through the chapters. When Yoongi was done, he joined you on the couch. “Find a good one?”

“Yep. It’s a mystery.” You handed him his phone back. “Thanks. You’ll have to let me know how it ends.” You smiled and stretched, walking over to the piano. “I added some more ot it. Would you like to hear?”

“Of course.” He replied.

You sat down and played the entire piece. “Doesn’t that sound good?” You asked him, proud of the progress you had made.

“It really does.” He smiled and got up, taking a seat next to you. “How about this for the next chord transition?” He played and it worked beautifully. 

“Ahhh that sounds so good,” You picked up the pen and added it to the arrangement. “Perfect.” 

“Where are the board games?” He asked, standing up.

“Hall closet. I won’t play risk or monopoly, but any of the others are fine.”

“I have PTSD from Uno so that one is also out.” He yelled from the hallway. “Life seems too ironic.”

You laughed. You looked over at the desk and grabbed a blank sheet of paper. “Just pick whatever, I don’t care.”

He came back with a few options. You ended up playing aggravation. Which lived up to its name. You had expected him to go easy on a poor dead girl, but he kept sending your ass back home at every chance he could. “You’re competitive!” You whined, trying desperately to roll a 1 or a 6.

“I have one real brother and 6 almost brothers, what do you expect?” He laughed. No surprise, Yoongi won. 

You rolled your eyes. “Booo!!!”

“We can play again or play something else if you want?” He asked, putting the pieces away.

“No, that’s ok. I need to do something and then we can just watch a show or something.” 

“Ok,” Yoongi stretched. “I’ll grab a shower. I smell like sunshine”

“What does that even mean?” You laughed.

“You know, when your skin starts to tan it gets that weird smell like it’s burning but not?”

“No. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” You responded, getting up off the floor and walking over to the desk. “But whatever. You know I won’t complain about you walking around here wet.”

You heard him laughing down the hallway and you smiled. You took out a pen and started to write. You looked over your letter; a sad smile occupying your face. You gently tucked it in with the music and you sat down to play what you knew would be the final bars of the music. Satisfied,you added the notes to the composition. “There. It’s done.” You didn’t dare to play it all the way through though. You got up and stood over by the window. The sun was setting. 

Yoongi came out a few minutes later, his hair still wet. “That sounded good.” He must have heard some of the music in the shower. 

“Thanks,” you turned around. “Pick a show.”

“You don’t care?” He asked, walking over to the couch.

“Nope. I haven’t seen nearly as much stuff as you I'm sure.”

“Ok.” He scrolled through some titles as you went over and joined him. The two of you resumed your position from the previous night. You happily tucked into Yoongi’s side with his arm around your shoulder. He picked a long-ass Avengers movie and you had to try really hard to keep track of the characters. 

“Sorry. I guess if you haven’t seen any of them, it would be hard to keep track.”

“No, it’s fine. I liked it.” You said. It had been confusing, but overall it was a good movie. You got up and stretched, with Yoongi following suit.

“The day’s almost over.” You commented sadly as you looked out at the moon hanging over the lake.

“It is.” Yoongi walked up behind you and rested his chin on your shoulder. “What else is on the list?”

You looked down, embarrassed. “I don’t know. It’s dumb.”

“Hey,” he turned you around so the two of you were facing each other. “It’s not dumb. What is it?”

“Could we...sleep together? Not in like a sex way. Just like. Together. Next to each other in bed.” You looked everywhere except for Yoongi’s face, embarrassed by your request.

Yoongi wrapped his arms around you for a hug. “Yes. We can do that.” 

You smiled and took a deep breath of his scent, trying to hold on to the memory.

He pulled back, “Alright, let’s go.”

You followed him down the hallway to the master bedroom. You both had only worn pajamas all day anyway so you didn’t need to change or anything.

The two of you laid down in bed. You felt Yoongi reach for your hand and you scooted closer. He rolled over so the two of you were facing each other. The moonlight provided enough light for you to be able to see the tiny freckles on his face, and the sadness hidden in his eyes.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You asked, gently moving your hand to cup his face.

“Nothing.” He replied, leaning into your touch. “Other than the fact that you know...ghost.”

You laughed. “Yeah. It’s weird.”

A small smile played across his lips. “I like weird.” He looked at you for several seconds, studying your face. “Can I kiss you?”

It took everything for you to not sound overly-excited. You tried to play it cool, “Yes.” You moved your face closer to his and he ever-so-gently placed a kiss upon your lips. If you could die again, you would have. The first kiss was short, the second kiss was firmer and much more needy, and the rest of them were delightfully passionate. The two of you continued to make out for several minutes before pulling away.

“Wow.” You said.

“Good wow? I’m guessing.” Yoongi said, smiling at you.

You laughed, “Yeah. You know how to make a girl feel alive.” It was meant to be a joke, but it left you feeling sad. Yoongi must have noticed because he pulled you closer, up against his chest.

“I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“I know. Thank you.” You murmured into his chest. You felt him kiss the top of your head. Neither of you dared to move it seemed. Before you knew it, your eyes were getting heavy. You were so happy. When you woke up, it was bright and warm. 

Yoongi woke up, stretching his whole body. The sky was grey and he heard rain beating against the windows. His hands reached over to the other side of the bed, but there was nothing there. “[Y/N?]” He asked quietly? Getting no response, he slowly got up and wandered out to the living room. “[Y/N]?” He asked again. He continued this around the house for several minutes becoming louder and more frantic.

Frustrated, he sat down at the piano and noticed the score sitting out. It was complete. Yoongi felt his throat burning slightly and held back his tears as he put his hands on the keys. He played the song. It was beautiful. The melody told a story of sadness, tentative hope, and finally, happiness. When he finished playing, he was crying. He gently moved the sheet music over to the desk and noticed another piece of paper was stuck to the back of the sheet music.

Yoongi,

I think your plan might work. And in case it does, I want you to know that this week was the best week of my life. You are so kind and thoughtful. Thank you for helping me. Helping me finish the song and have fun. Do what you want with this song. It’s yours; I couldn’t have written it without you.  If I do end up out of heck, I hope I end up going somewhere where I will see you again someday. Keep living a wonderful life for me, ok? 

Love always,

[Y/N]

And that broke him. Yoongi sobbed into his hands and walked back into the bedroom. He curled up, hugging the pillow. Your warmth was long gone from the bed, but he just wanted to stay there the rest of the day. As his crying slowly subsided, he reminded himself that he knew this could happen. When he laid in bed the first night he discovered you were a ghost, he knew this might happen. And he still let himself fall. He knew he should be happy for you. And eventually, he would be.  

Epilogue

Yoongi double checked the address once more. It would be super awkward if he walked up to the wrong house. He had closed on the Lakehouse the week before and had put together a small box of items that he thought your parents might want to have. He walked up the path, stopping at a small stone memorial: “Our beloved [Y/N], gone but not forgotten.” Next to it was a cement stone with paw prints in it and the name “Barley.” Yep. This was definitely the right place. Yoongi almost started to cry right there but he knew he had to keep it together for your parents. He knocked on the door. 

An older woman answered, clearly your mom judging by the same eyes and face shape. “Yes, can I help you young man?” She eyed the box suspiciously. “There's no solicitation allowed in this neighborhood.” 

Yoongi smiled, “Of course not ma’am. I’m Min Yoongi. I bought your daughter’s Lakehouse and I have some of her stuff. I thought it was only right to return them to you.”

Your mom’s hand flew up to her mouth. “Oh of course. Of course. Please come in.” She  led the way to the living room and yelled for her husband to join them. “This is the man who bought the house. He brought us some of [Y/N]s things.” She explained as your dad walked into the living room. 

“Thank you. It was too painful for us to go back.” Your mom said quietly.

Yoongi nodded, slowly starting to look around the house. It was covered in pictures of you at various ages and piano competition ribbons and trophies.

Yoongi touched the back of his neck lightly and cleared his throat. "I'm also a composer and music producer. I found some music [Y/N] was working on shortly before she passed. I went ahead and completed it and recorded it. Would you like to listen?”

Your parents sat there for a moment taking it all in. They exchanged a look with one another as though having a silent conversation with each other.

“I understand if you don’t want a stranger intruding on this. Here is the flashdrive with the song on it.” He took it out of his pocket and sat it down on the coffee table. Yoongi suddenly felt as though he was violating a very intimate moment and turned to leave.

“Could you play it for us?” Your mom asked.

Yoongi’s breath felt trapped in his throat. Could he play through it without being a crying wreck? He didn’t know. He cried while recording it. And listening to it. But it didn’t seem right to cry in front of your parents, they had lost their daughter. He had only known you for a few days. And yet, how could he refuse them? He turned back around. “Of course.”

Your mom squeezed your dad’s hand tightly. “This way,” she led Yoongi through a set of double doors and into a room with a baby grand piano sitting in the middle. “We still have it tuned. I don’t know why. Neither of us play.” She said, pushing her glasses back up.

“It’s like we think she’ll show back up one day and we want to be ready for her.” Your dad added, putting his arm around his wife and squeezing.

Yoongi walked over to the piano bench and sat down. He could do this.  He pressed his hands to the keys and began to play. Slowly at first, through the morose beginning of the song. As he entered the middle it gradually became warmer and moderately paced, and finally by the end it was an eerie blend of the two. Bittersweet and full of hope and regret at the same time. By the time Yoongi played the last note he could feel the tears streaming down his face. He didn’t want to turn and look to face your parents, he didn’t feel like he could take it. He heard soft claps behind him and turned. Your parents were both applauding while crying.

“Thank you. Thank you.” Your mom said, taking a tissue from a box on the table, then offering one to Yoongi. He gently dabbed at his face. 

He stayed for a while longer, allowing them to talk a bit more about your life and show him pictures and talk about your many achievements.

“Thank you so much for stopping by. You are a lovely young man. I only wish [Y/N] could have known you when she was alive.” Your mom said as they escorted him to the front door.

Yoongi smiled wistfully, “I feel like I did get to know her through her music. Thank you. She was very talented. Do you mind if I add this song to my next mixtape? You don’t have to answer now, and she will be credited on the song. Just let me know.” He handed them his business card before leaving to head back to Seoul. He felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

---------------------

Your parents had given their blessing to having your song included on the next album. This mixtape in general had a softer feel to it than his previous albums, but people gushed the most about the softness and vulnerability of the last track: a piano composition he had dedicated to [Y/N]. “May you live on forever through your music.  I'll see you again someday.”

Yoongi was both happy and sad that he never saw you in the lake house again; hoping that wherever you were now, it was peaceful. Over the years Yoongi and the other members created many memories at the Lakehouse, fishing and playing games. Some of them eventually even brought their families along. They were all welcome as long as they followed Uncle Yoongi’s rules: no messing around with the piano. 

#yoongi x reader #bts yoongi x reader #suga x you #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts fic #bts writing #bts scenarios #bts fluff #suga fluff #suga x reader #suga fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi scenarios #yoongi fanfic

[kingotabek]

do you have any fic recs?

EBuckle up. This is only took me three weeks to formulate an answer for okay because I read SO MANY FICS (like not kidding sometimes upwards of ten or twelve a day) and this ask is MAKING ME PICK????

I’ll put them in neat little ship categories too, so I don’t look like a completely uncultured reader.

**** = My faves. 

 I’ll designate my fics too, because why not shamelessly promote myself while I’m here. 

Victor/Yuuri (Victuuri):

Take My Hand, Take My Whole Life Too [T, 1.6k] by shingeki_no_llama  | Victor Nikiforov thinks he knows just who has their thoughts scrawled so carelessly on the back of his hand. He can only pray he is right.———Soulmate AU where the thoughts of your soulmate inscribe themselves on your skin in a temporary ever-changing tattoo

Viktor!!! on Ice {E. 2.3k} by timelordofrassilon | Yuuri sent a prayer of thanks to the gods for whoever invented ice cubes. He stood in the onsen, body hot and steaming from the water at his waist, while Viktor’s cold tongue slid up the curve of his neck.————————–Fluffy, in-character onsen sex that is also 100% raunchy ice skater porn. They confess their fantasies. There are ice cubes. Yuuri talks about his body pillow.

****Unwritten {T, 34k} by kaizuka | Soulmates AU where whatever you write on your own skin appears on your soulmate, but when there is a language barrier, meeting becomes just a little more difficult than it should be.

hold me hard and mellow {M, 3k} by YuuriVityaNyan (NarryEm) |Training with Viktor is … hard.  In more ways than one.It doesn’t take long for Yuuri to realise that if Viktor is going to coach him, there are few things that he has to work out first.  One of which is his not so little crush on the Russian skater.  And, of course, he has to figure out how the heck he is going to skate to ‘eros’ for the skate-off.

****************Until My Feet Bleed and My Heart Aches  {E, 197k} by Reiya   | ‘…Of all the rivalries in the world of sports over the years, perhaps none has become so legendary as that of Russian figure skater Viktor Nikiforov and his rival, Japanese Yuuri Katsuki…’A single event changes the course of Yuuri’s life, throwing him into a bitter rivalry with Viktor Nikiforov that spans across his entire skating career. But as the years go on, rivalry and hatred begin to develop into something very different and Yuuri doesn’t seem to be able to stay away, no matter how hard he tries.Hatred and love are two sides of the same coin and even though everything changes, some things are still meant to be.

all the world’s a stage {E, 112k} by braveten | Everyone has a guilty pleasure.For Yuuri, it just happens to be romance movies starring famous heartthrob Victor Nikiforov.(And, honestly, on the spectrum of guilty pleasures, he figures that his is on the far, far more innocent side.)

****Even if I Tried {T, 6k} by deathbycoldopen | He took his place next to Viktor in the kiss and cry, floating like ash over the wreckage of the fire. He took the water bottle Viktor offered with a murmured thank you, and stared out at the ice. Distantly, he couldn’t quite believe that the surface was still frozen.“Did it really feel that good?”His eyes flickered over to Viktor, then back to the ice. There was a different kind of heat invading his cheeks now, all too familiar and unwelcome. “Um,” he said quietly. “Mostly I just wanted people to feel good watching it.”Lie. He’d only thought of one person. The man who’d regularly had underwear thrown onto the ice along with the flowers, the man who’d had four scandalous and highly publicized affairs with models and other skaters before the age of twenty, the man that Yuuri couldn’t hope to keep but desperately wanted to.

My Victuuri Fics:

Like The Ache Of Life {T, 1k} | Victor lives a life of aching limbs, high spins, and blades against ice.He’s trapped.——–Or that one fic that’s not as angsty as the description makes it sound, and where two boys fall in love.

Otabek/Yuri (Otayuri):

Sonata in A Major {T, 8k} by Lumieres | Yuri is like a meteorite, caught in his atmosphere. If he doesn’t take care of him, he’ll completely burn up, and there won’t be anything left for him to salvage.(Or: Three times, Yuri and Otabek kiss, only to never speak about it again.)

****Teach Me Just What Fast Is {E, 3k} by Zee |  “You don’t like it when other people tell you what to do,” Otabek said, “but you accept it from me. Why is that?”Yuri likes it when Otabek bosses him around, and Otabek calls him on it.

How Long You Walked For (til you got lost tonight) {T, 3k} by LiviKate | “Stop apologizing,” Yuri snapped at him. “You told me you loved me, and now you’re just thanking me and apologizing. It’s weird.”Or, in which Otabek falls in love and doesn’t notice when Yuri does, too.

*****fingers crossed my obsession with you is tameable {E, 5k} by seaworn | “I think I didn’t quite grasp it. Show me again?” Yuri asked breathlessly.Otabek bit his lower lip, eyes lighting up in joy.“Alright.”**Yuri and Otabek meet on New Year’s Eve.

**********  From Almaty, With Love {E, 71k} by BoxWineConfessions ( @boxwineconfession ) | It’s quiet here. Even if the car alarm on the neighbor’s goddamn BMW has been going off for the past twenty minutes. Quiet, even though the alarm’s got the neighbor’s dog howling like crazy, and the neighbor works second shift and isn’t there to comfort the dumb dog.It’s quiet…They haven’t spoken to each other since that morning, when Yuri went off to go see his tutor, and Otabek went off to do whatever the hell it was he did in the mornings before he hit the rink.“You’re used to the noise?”“Yeah, but…I think I like the quiet too.”Or: Yuri spends the summer with Otabek in Almaty. (this one is my fave I WOULD DIE FOR IT and im not at all biased. Just check out the author’s profile and read all the fics there okay? Okay.) 

****Endurance and Peach Tea {G, 11k} by chapstickaddict | Yuri hummed. His body didn’t uncurl, but instead of pressing his face into the fold of his legs, he rested it on his crossed forearms. Tilting his face towards Otabek, he looked for the bronze metal. The colorful ribbon snuck into the folds of his jacket, hiding his prize from view. Yuri reached out, and Otabek let him pull the ribbon to bring the metal into the light.It was beautiful. Heavy and ornate, with the front masterfully detailed. The perfect symbol of success. Yuri flipped it over, admiring Otabek’s name carved along the back.Wait.“Did they spell your name wrong?” he demanded, straightening. Otabek made a noise beside him.

****Yours, Mine, Ours {T, 5k} by aphhun   | Otabek blinked himself back into the conversation and turned towards Viktor. Without thinking, against what he tried his hardest to keep from happening, he inquired-“Your Yuuri’s, or my Yuri’s?”-In which Otabek has always been careful not to use Viktor’s “My Yuuri/Your Yuri” reference system but indulges in the habit on Live television, and Yuri has a damn heart attack.

Permanently {T, 14k} by HugsandButterflyKisses | What’s with you assholeOtabek sat stunned before looking at it again. That couldn’t be right. His soulmate wasn’t going to say that the first time they met.Otabek looked once again.What’s with you asshole was neatly printed on his left thigh.orThe soulmate au where the first words your soulmate says to you are tattooed on your skin. Otabek can’t wait to get his but the mark is not what he expected. Neither is his soulmate.

************Shutter-Release {M, 7k} by kaijoskopycat | Otabek Altin has been a fashion photographer for longer than he cares to think about and he’s never been as moved by a model as he is when he meets Yuri Plisetsky, one of the most unconventional personalities for a top model out there. (all i can say is HOT DAMN)

My Otayuri Fics: 

Raincheck {T, 1k} | “You’ll be better before I leave.” Otabek hums; tracing the patterns of his upcoming routine on Yuri’s thighs.Yuri meets his eyes. “And if I’m not?”“Then I’ll just take a raincheck.”——–Or that fic where Yuri is sick and Otabek is simply the best.

A Journey To Love {Not Yet Rated, WIP, Currently 6k+, 2/10 chapters} | For Otabek and Yuri, love is a journey.—Or, ninety-nine scenes of them falling in love and one where they finally say it. (WIP)

An Errant Spark {E, WIP, 14k+ Currently} | The future, convoluted and ever-changing as it is, doesn’t come to Yuri easily. ——- Or that Hero/Fair AU will all kinds of other things thrown in. (WIP)

With Us Went The Sun {T, 1.5k} | It’s one forty-five in the morning and the sky is bright. Not with stars or the lights of buildings rising through the night, but bright like day. Lit with shades of pale yellow like some old forgotten painting; phosphorescent as it burns, and blinding.Otabek forces his stinging eyes away, and looks to Yuri. (Warning: ANGST)

Someday, In This Morning Light {G, .6k} | This life is filled with simple beauty, and Otabek relishes silent moments such as this one, where he can do no more than observe and collect memories. (Drabble)

Hear Me Roar {Explicit, 13k+} | Yuri can’t remember when it started; has no idea when the first instance of Otabek’s control over him was displayed. But somewhere over their three years of friendship, Yuri realized that not only does he listen to Otabek, he enjoys  it. (A Six Part Series)

Phichit/Seung-Gil (SeungChuChu):

Bite Me {T, 3k} by EttaMills |  Phichit Chulanont looks so innocent. Who knew, underneath, was a sharp-tooth predator who is very protective of his friends? Feature Seung Gil’s first date and him not knowing how to act around this ball of sunshine and Yuuri and Phichit being adorably supportive of each other.

take a picture (it’ll last longer) {T, 4k} by aozu | Phichit takes a lot of photos.And by a lot, Seung-gil means a fuck ton.

That’s all for now folks. :)

#fic rec #otayuri #victuuri #seungchuchu #ask #anon #answered

[shivroyslut]

Polaroid Memories

So i wrote an angsty nearly 7k word Falsettos fic :) I’m pretty proud of it so hope you enjoy! :) Oh and like if you enjoyed!!

If you have Wattpad, you can read it there. I’ve added a special little chapter there. So thanks!

Context: Set after his death

Homosexuals

Women with children

Short insomniacs

We’re a teeny tiny band

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Show tunes played in the background.

Mendel, Trina, Jason, Charlotte, and Cordelia were cleaning up after the Bar Mitzvah.

Trina hummed to the music, removing the decorations pasted on the wall.

Jason did little happy dances to the rhythm, collecting whatever his mother gave him.

Mendel, completely violating psychiatrist-client confidentiality, told tales of his hopeless and crazy patients, while moving the furniture back to their original places.

Cordelia laughed uncontrollably at his stories, failing to clear the excess food in the process.

Charlotte accomplished what her girlfriend was trying so hard to do.

The two of us were laid on his death bed, hand in hand, my head rested on his shoulder and his head on my head.

For a moment, everything was picture perfect. My tight-knit family all in one room. It felt ironically happy.

That moment didn’t last.

A flat line.

Screams of a child.

Blubbers of a man.

Howls of a woman.

Sobs of another.

Whimpers of yet another.

I, however, stared ahead at nothing in particular in silence for God knows how long. Every sound around me slowly faded away. An emptiness began to grow in my heart. It felt like a hole in my heart of the shape of him that made me feel the need to wipe away non-existent tears that I wanted to form but couldn’t.

I eventually felt a soft touch on my arm and jolted back to reality. It was Charlotte. “We have to go.” I heard her say, sniffling.

I looked towards him and squeezed his hand. He was a light sleeper. Always woke up when I did as so. But this time he didn’t.

It was then I was struck. The grief surged with every expelled breath, reaching higher peaks, never sufficiently soothed by my long intakes of the damp air. Tears began to spill from my helpless eyes onto the white sheets. I pulled his lifeless, yet warm body closer. I held him tighter than I had ever done before.

Everything was supposed to be alright. We were supposed to get back together and stay together. No one was supposed to get sick. No one.

***************

August 18th, 1982. He would have turned 38. I would have attempted to make him breakfast. We would have ended up eating burnt pancakes. We would have had a party. The seven of us all gathered in this tiny apartment, singing along to show tunes, eating cake, and watching Star Wars. He would have opened his presents; a chess board from Jason, a Star Wars colouring book from Mendel(“Colouring relieves stress guys!”), a recipe book from Cordelia, the latest camera from Charlotte, a coffee-maker from Trina, and a puppy, something he had begged for for so long, from me. That night, we would have made love, for however long he wanted.

But that night, weak with grief, I lay on our empty bed. My empty bed. I searched for a hand to squeeze on the other side of the bed. I don’t know what I had expected. Tears began to roll down my face, as I tried to suppress the memories of him. The way he always beat me in every game we ever played. The way he cooked linguine. The way spoke. The way he flirted with me. The way he held my face in his hands. The way he kissed me. Oh, the way he kissed me.

I missed him.

I missed him so much.

After he passed, my life became a void. A dark void. A never ending dark void that consumed everything, so I was left feeling nothing. Empty. I couldn’t bare to pretend that everything was alright. I just felt so alone; so, so helpless.

With great effort, I pulled myself out of bed, despite the unrelenting desire to stay in bed. Since he left me a month ago, I have been feeling so much weaker. A dark thought passed me. What if I had gotten what he had?

I instantly shook it off and went to the kitchen to get a glass of milk.

As soon as I opened the fridge door, a putrid smell entered my nose. I bent over to see what was emitting the smell.

It was coming from a container of leftovers of the last ever meal he made for me.

I immediately closed the door, burying the smell and sight of the container at the back of my head. Forgetting the milk, I got ready for our routine morning jog. My routine morning jog.

I took the stairs down from the apartment on the fifth floor for my jog. But my body was starting to spiral into exhaustion. Exhaustion which prevented me from even taking another step; forget running around the block.

I sat on the bottom most stair, heaving heavily. After a few minutes, I heard footsteps from above me. I looked up to see Charlotte coming down the stairs.

“Marvin?”

“I-I think I’m sick.”

**************

The doctor drove me to the hospital. The entire journey I silently looked straight ahead while she occasionally took reassuring glances at me.

After a doctor which specialised on the newly-named AIDS had tested me, I hailed a cab back to our home. My home. Heck, it wasn’t even a home without him. Charlotte told me that she would get the, “hopefully, no definitely, favourable results” back in a few hours and that she would inform me of them back at the apartment.

I blew off work to sulk and wait at the apartment. For hours I stared at our, my, chess board, hoping somehow a pawn would move. Expectedly, no piece even inched.

The bell finally rang. I opened the door and was greeted with a tight hug. I felt my shirt becoming damp with tears. “I’m so sorry Marvin,” she whispered. I hugged her back, tears beginning to stream down my face.

*************

I broke the news to the Weisanbachfields during Friday night dinner. We were laughing about the good moments each of us had with him when Mendel said, “I miss him a lot, but at least there is still a little memory of him left with us, especially in Marvin.”

“Such as the disease,” I muttered, taking a sip of wine.

“Wh-what?” Jason stuttered.

“I’m sick.”

I received varying reactions: Trina looked at her plate in silence. Mendel looked at me with utmost sympathy. Jason fiercely swept his plate off the table causing it to crack and food to go everywhere, got up, kicked his chair away, shrieked “NO!”, stormed off to his room, and slammed the door behind him.

The three of us adults sat there in silence, listening to the faint sobs coming from the next room.

After about one uncomfortably silent minute, I got up and walked myself out.

************

About 3 am the next day, there was a ring at the door. Rubbing my eyes like a child, I opened it, only to be greeted the same way I had been earlier this week. Except this time the whisper was from a pubescent boy saying, “Don’t you dare leave me too.” I reacted the same way I did with Charlotte. After what seemed like an eternity, we broke off. He picked up his backpack which was lying by his side and entered the apartment without an invitation. “I’m staying with you until you get better. I left Mom a note.”

“Son, what if I don’t-”

“Just shut up! I’m staying with you until you get better!” he interrupted.

“Alright.”

***********

Jason only managed to stay at the apartment for three weeks. It was a Saturday evening and we were playing our weekly game of chess.

“Checkmate!” I said, giving him a cheeky smile. He made an ‘o’ shape with his mouth. Being this close to beating Jason was like getting a hole in one with no experience whatsoever at golf. The last time I won a chess game with him was over a year ago.

Jason rested his head on his palm, thinking of a way to get out of the sticky situation. Feeling a little light headed, I got up to get a glass of water.

The last thing I remember was hitting the cold, hard marble floor.

**********

I woke up in a hospital bed, in hospital clothes which exposed my ass, the right side of my head numb. I looked around the empty room. It was the one he died in. Although, this time it had another bed across the room, with a chess board on it. I smiled weakly.

At that moment, Jason walked in.

“Hey! You’re awake!”

“Hey, kid. How long was I out?

"Two hours or so. If you’re feeling okay, do you want to continue our game? I figured out my winning move.”

“Sure,” I said, struggling to pull myself up so that I was seated on the bed. Jason got onto my bed and put the chess board between us. Within five moves between us, he managed to win.

“HA!” he exclaimed, knocking my King off the board.

“Congrats kid,” I said, as someone knocked on the door.

It was the doctor who had diagnosed me.

“Sir, may I come in?”

Jason looked gravely towards me. “Sure,” I said, trying to dismiss the giant lump growing in my throat.

The doctor walked in and turned towards Jason. “Kid, you might want to leave the room.”

“I’m staying here.”

“Okay…” he said, turning his attention to me. I nodded. “Unfortunately, I come bearing some depressing news.”

“How long?” I asked, voice breaking, already knowing what the news was.

“About two months. More if you’re lucky.”

Jason threw the chess board at the doctor, who merely flinched.

“NO! YOU CAN’T DO THIS! YOU CAN’T. You-you just can’t.” Jason bawled. I pulled him towards me.

He sobbed into my chest unceasingly, hands clutching at the thin piece of hospital dress draped over me. I held him in silence, rocking him slowly as his tears soaked my chest.

“Hey, hey,” I said, resting my chin upon his head and gently rubbing his back.

Once the doctor had quietly retrieved from the room, I let the tears roll down my cheeks and soak Jason’s hair.

“Everything is not alright,” he whimpered.

“I am so sorry, son,” I murmured, holding him tighter. We sat there in silence, our never-ending flow of tears soaking the bed and our clothes.

After a while, Jason fell asleep in my arms. I lay him down on my bed and attempted to fall asleep too. However, I just ended up staring at the ceiling until morning, while Jason remained sound asleep, an arm and a leg wrapped around me the entire time. That night was a futile tussle of conflicting thoughts. My days were limited. I didn’t want to leave my son. To leave Trina. To leave Charlotte. Cordelia. Mendel. But at the same time, I didn’t want to live in a world without him. It wasn’t like I had a choice anyways. Like he said, we all gotta die sometime.

*********

Early the next morning, I heard another knock on the door. It was Charlotte and Cordelia. I assumed that they had already found out about the tragic news.

“If it’s a bad time, we’ll come back,” Charlotte said.

I smiled in their direction.

“We’ll come in.” Cordelia replied, “I’ve brought some hors d'oeuvres too! They were his favourites. I think.”

I graciously smiled, hesitantly accepting the container appetisers, careful not to actually eat it.

Cordelia got into bed with us, so that I was sandwiched between Jason and her, while Charlotte stood by her.

“How are you feeling?” Charlotte asked.

“Terrible.”

“Naturally.”

“Oh c'mon let’s not talk about that! Here! Have a bite!” She took a piece out of the container and force fed me, despite my obvious resistant.

“Holy shit! This is amazing!” I said, savouring the bite. She’s a good cook, but Jewish food has always been her Achilles heel.

“Right! She has been getting really good! Her Jewish food taste like heaven now!” Charlotte said proudly. Her girlfriend blushed.

“Speaking of heaven, I guess the only good part of this affair is that I’ll get to see him again soon,” I muttered.

“Oh please,” Charlotte snorted. “There is no way in hell you guys will end up there. I have literally walked in on you guys fucking on the floor. Several times, I should add. Definitely, shouldn’t have given us keys.”

“Touché.” I cackled too loudly, causing Jason to stir awake.

“Oh, hey guys,” he yawned, sitting himself up and rubbing his eyes. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing.” we said in unison.

Jason rolled his eyes before giving me a confused look. “Dad, are you having hors d'oeuvres for breakfast?”

“No…” I said, popping a small piece into my mouth.

Jason rolled his eyes before taking a piece.

********

Mendel came over one weekday. His clients were making him feel depressed he said.

We sat there in awkward, meaningless silence for a while. The only sound was of whatshername on Good Morning America. The last Mendel and I had talked were at that memorable Friday night dinner.

“So Marvin,” he broke the silence and reduced the volume of the television. “How are y-”

“I do not need a therapy session, Mendel.” I interrupted.

“Do you honestly believe that?”

“I do in fact,” I muttered, snatching the remote and turning the volume up.

He took back the remote and turned off the television. “Marvin, you won’t even utter his name. You flinch whenever someone even mentions him.”

“I do not!”

“Oh really?”

“I don’t!”

“Whi-”

I flinched.

“See!” Mendel said as if he had won the lottery.

“I don’t have to talk about him.”

“Yes, you do Marvin. I’m not trying to mock you. If you want to get over him, you do have to talk to someone.”

“I don’t want to get over him.”

“Marvin, you have to eventually.”

“You seem to be forgetting that I’m literally on my death bed right now,” I said, patting the bed we were both seated on. “I don’t have to and I don’t want to talk about him. I’m not ready, and I’ll never have to be ready. Can you please just turn on the television?”

“Fine. Have it your way. I was just trying to help.” Mendel murmured, showing defeat. He turned on the television.

“Mendel?” I whispered, turning the volume down again.

“Yea?”

“Do yo really eat dirt?”

“Marvin, why on Earth would I eat dirt?”

“But, Trina saw you!”

“Oh please, I just accidentally put a heavy box on top of a bag of Oreos. And I didn’t want to waste them. You don’t honestly think I eat dirt, right?”

“No…”

“Exactly,” he smirked, turning it back up.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged.

“Mendel! That’s gross!”

“What’s so gross about Oreos?” he mocked, smirk still plastered on his face.

“Oh forget it,” I said, looking away from him in disgust. “For Trina’s sake, I hope you’re telling the truth.”

He laughed.

*******

A few depressingly monotonous days of chess, math homework, Good Morning America, and mental breakdowns passed. Cordelia came over while Jason was at school with a box of my belongings.

“Hey, sweety. Got some stuff from your apartment. I brought some of your favourite books and movies in case you felt bored. I also made you some French toast.” she said, putting the box by the bed. She handed me a container of French toast.

“Thank you,” I said, opening the container and taking a bite of bread.

“Oh, there was also this terrible stench filling your apartment. It was of leftovers in your fridge. I threw them out. Oh and I’ve been thinking of opening a cooking studi-”

I dropped the container on my lap. “You what!” I snapped, cutting her off mid-sentence. “Cordelia! Those leftovers were the last thing he ever made for me! You can’t just go to our-my-the apartment and throw away whatever you feel like throwing! Why can’t everyone just stop reminding me of him! You can’t just go through my things! You-you-you-” I burst out in tears as I let all of my suppressed rage go. Cordelia quietly got into bed next to me and wrapped her arm around my shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” she whispered.

“No, I’m sorry, I sho-shouldn’t have yelled at you. You were jus-you were just trying to help. I-I just miss him.” I murmured, in between sobs.

“I know.” Cordelia pulled me close to her. I rested my head on her shoulder and closed my eyes, trying to recall how exactly his linguine tasted. I couldn’t.

******

“Your move,” Jason said, giving me a cheeky grin. It was clearly his game, like always. That boy never got tired of winning. A trait he had unfortunately gotten from me.

I moved a knight. Two squares in front and one to the side. He made a ticking sound with his tongue. “Whi- he wouldn’t have made that move.”

I flinched. “No, he wouldn’t have,” I sighed. “Hey, uhm, so, do you know how we broke up all those years ago?”

“No.”

“I was teaching him how to play,” I smiled. “He couldn’t even differentiate between the queen and a pawn. He asked me to let him win and I initially did. But later on, I realised that I wanted to beat him so bad for once so I tried to get back at him. But he beat me in the end. He wasn’t even trying. And he beat me.”

“He never lost anything ever, did he? I mean other than chess with me.”

“No, he never did, before he got sick that was. But back then, I didn’t realise what an honour it was to lose to him. I was just so obsessed with winning. I hated losing to him so much. I just wanted to feel accomplished at something for once in my life. So when he won at something I, with my zillion years of chess experience, could have easily won, everything just fell apart. Every one of his flaws just suddenly hit me. I was so mad. I was beaten at chess by a friggin newbie. A game at which I’ve only ever be beaten by my son. I mean, you’re unbeatable.”

“You’re not wrong…” he smirked.

“Anyways, I grabbed his suitcase from our room and just threw it at him. He left the next day. I was already deeply regretting ever even thinking about breaking up with him. The next I ever saw him was at your mom’s and Mendel’s wedding three months later. The entire time I just wanted to fall at his feet and beg him to take me back. But something stopped me. My heart was screaming to be taken back but my mind wouldn’t listen. The entire wedding passed with us not even uttering a single word to one another. When I saw him at your baseball game, I knew it was my final chance to win him over again. And to think about it, the only reason he won was because I had initially let him win.”

“You broke up with him because you let him win?”

“Stupid isn’t it?”

“Yea, very.”

“Well, if you hadn’t hit that ball he wouldn’t have thought anything was possible. He wouldn’t have gotten back together with me.”

“Well, if he hadn’t taught me how to hit, I’d have never hit the ball. He did a better job at coaching in one minute than my coach did in two seasons. Say, did he ever tell you about when I had invited him to the baseball game?”

“No, he said it was a secret you wanted to keep. And we all know that he was always one to keep others’ secrets.”

“If you promise not to tell Mom… I’ll let you in on it.”

“Wow, being so close to death really makes everyone tell you their secrets.” I laughed.

Jason looked at me gravely.

“Sorry,” I said. He didn’t exactly like me mentioning death around him.

“Don’t tell Mom this but I’m not exactly in my school’s chess club…”

“Wait, what? Where the hell have you been going to after school all these years? You’re not in any gangs, are you?” I blurted out.

“Oh my gosh, Dad, no! I’m not in any gangs!” Jason jumped, nearly pushing the chess board off the bed. “There’s just this really good chess club with people who can actually play chess near his old apartment. He would occasionally come over and we would play together. That’s why he was suddenly all better at chess when you got back together. That’s how I invited him to the baseball game. Can’t believe he really didn’t tell you about this.”

“Well, he was perfect in that way. He never wanted to, and would never break a promise. And to think about how many times I’ve broken promises to him…”

“Oh come on, Dad. He loved you.”

I sighed. “He always did.”

“You know, I hated every other man brought home, simply because they weren’t him. No one took pictures as well as him. No one cooked as well as him. No one played sports as well as him. No one played chess as well as him. No one cared for me as well as he did, no offence to you, mom, and Mendel. No one could do so many other things as well as he could. Dad, he was so perfect.” Jason said, desperately trying to hold back tears.

“He was,” I said, pushing the chess board away and pulling him towards my chest. “He was so perfect. Except for his bald spot, everything else about him was unusually perfect.”

“Hey, it’s not like you’ve got a full set of hair!” he said, lifting his head off my chest and wiping away the tears which had formed in his eyes.

“I mean, he was bald first.” I snickered.

Jason smiled. “I miss him.”

“I miss him too, kid. I miss him too.”

*****

“Jason’s at school. Mendel’s at work making some depressed bastard well. Cordelia is catering at an adult party. And Charlotte is somewhere in this place doing whatever a doctor does. Oh, and the dog finally passed. I could use the company, and I guess you could too. You look awful, by the way.” Trina said, standing by the doorway, a drinking flask in hand.

“Well, I’ve spent the entire morning reading Jason’s Spider-Man comics, and we all know I’m not one for them,” I smiled. “So Useless died, huh.”

“Yea, it got hit by a bus!” Trina said too excitedly, walking in and plopping herself onto the bed. I put the book away.

“I brought you some tea. Earl Grey,” she said, handing me the flask.

I graciously accepted it and took a sip of tea. “His favourite,” I said, savouring the flavour.

“He put boxes of tea bags in my apartment so that whenever you two came over, he could have some.”

“He was obsessed with tea.”

“He was…” Trina sighed. “I liked him a lot, you know. I wanted to hate him so badly for taking you away from me. But I couldn’t. He was the nicest, sweetest, and most lovable enemy I ever had.”

“He made it impossible for anyone to hate him. Even when we broke up, I didn’t hate him. Not once ever. No matter how many times I told him so.”

“You guys always loved each other. It just took a break up and two years for you guys to figure it out.”

“Yea it did. I left you for him. I left Jason for him. And all he wanted was sex and money.”

“And what did you want?”

“Well, I wanted the idea of you in him. I wanted him to be the housewife you were. I thought I loved you. I thought that was the only way I could show love towards him. But I was wrong. I didn’t love you. I didn’t understand that to show love to him I shouldn’t restrict him to how I wanted him to be. It took me two years to fully comprehend that.”

“You guys used to fight a lot.”

“Fighting was a foreplay, for all the sex he wanted. He thought love was about sex. It took him two years to comprehend that it wasn’t.”

“The relationship you left ours for was really unhealthy.”

“It was. But so was ours. We didn’t love each other.”

“No, we didn’t.”

“But now you’ve got a wonderful husband who loves you and who you love dearly.”

“I do.” She laughed. “I got together with the love of mine. The handsome, smart, dirt-eating, and kind of problematic love of mine. You got together with the love of yours. The incredibly good looking, talented, tea obsessed love of yours.”

“I’m forgetting him you know. Memories I’ve wanted to last forever and ever just fading away.”

“Oh c'mon Marvin. It’s not like you’ve an eidetic memory! Don’t beat yourself up about that.”

I sighed. “At least I’m dying soon. I’ll leave with some memories left of him. Too bad I could only be in that happy and healthy relationship for only a year before he was taken away from me.”

“Oh come on. You have a happy and healthy relationship with Jason! And one with Charlotte and Cordelia! You grew one with Mendel! Despite you being incredibly jealous of him initially. And we don’t hate each other’s guts anymore.”

“No, we don’t”

“He may not be here anymore but you still have us.”

“I do,” I said, a small smile appearing on my face.

“I was crushed when you left me, you know,” Trina said, letting her head fall on my shoulder.

“I know.”

“But it was the best thing to ever happen to us.”

“It was.”

“Jason met his best friend.”

“Yea he did. Our son literally trusted him more than he did us.”

“Those two really connected. He was the reason why our son has turned into a sensible young man. Hey, you might not know this since I asked him not to tell you but we used to have coffee together some days while you two were separated.”

“What! First Jason, now you! Did he know the lesbians before I even introduced them to him?”

Trina laughed. “The only reason we met up was because I followed Jason downtown once.”

“Wait, you knew about his other chess club?”

“Of course I did! The school called me saying that Jason hadn’t shown up to almost every chess, so naturally, I drove after the bus Jason was in. And there he was, in a park, playing chess with our son.”

“You stalked our son and he didn’t know. Huh. I’d thought between the six of us he would have been brighter.”

“He has six parents, not six parents who are actually capable of parenting.”

“Fair point.”

“He may not be so bright, but at least he’s friggin brilliant.”

“Yes, yes he is.”

“Anyways after Jason left the park I confronted Whi-him. He said he saw Jason at the park playing chess with 20-year-old nerds. I mean, he missed Jason. Maybe even more than he missed you. So he ended up joining that chess club so he could spend time with him.”

“How did this end up with you two having occasional coffee together?”

“You may not believe this, but we both missed each other too!”

“You two? I thought you hated him.”

“Please, I only hated him initially. Anyways, after confronting him he asked if I wanted to join him for coffee to catch up with each other. I agreed and somehow that led to us meeting up almost every week.”

“But-but at the baseball game you weren’t too pleased with him for being there!”

“Of course I wasn’t! I didn’t invite him! Jason did!”

“But you were so against us being back together!”

“Yes! I wanted you to suffer like how you made me suffer when we got divorced!”

“Oh.”

“I wanted him to be happy. He was such a sweet and lovable guy. He respected me more than any man ever did. More than you. More than Mendel even. I was upset because I didn’t want you to be in a relationship with someone like him. I wanted you to feel hurt like how I felt.”

“Well, ouch.”

“I took way too long to forgive you. But then I realised that he was happy with you. And my want for him to be happy outweighed my want of you to be lonely. So I forgave you.”

“Well, that’s good to know.” I laughed.

“I miss him so much, Marvin.” she sighed.

“So do I, Trina. So do I.” I replied.

****

I was left all alone when Jason was at school the following day, tired of watching the minute hand making rounds around the clock. My life from then on was four walls and pain medication until I died. Perhaps if I screamed and screamed for pain medication I could have gotten an overdose and slid into the arms of Death. Like he used to say, maybe Death would have welcomed me into his arms, telling me to embrace his attack before it all turns black.

But instead of yelling at the nurses to numb the pain surging through my body, I took out the box Cordelia gave me, searching the bottom for anything more distracting from the pain than the documentary on penguins on tv. I grabbed the bottom-most thing my fingers touched.

A tape.

One I don’t remember owning at all.

It was labelled, 'For Marvin…’, in his handwriting.

I pushed myself off the bed to get Jason’s Walkman. I put the tape in and let it roll. And through the headphones, I heard his voice, for the first time in three months. I closed my eyes to take it all in.

“Hey Marvin, it’s me. Surprise! Well, if you’re listening to this, I’m probably dead. I gave this to Cordelia to give to you after I, well, kick the bucket. Killed by a godforsaken illness. Not even hit by a van, a friggin painful illness.

"Well, you’re probably mourning me right now. I mean of course you are, you love me. And I loved you. 'loved’ because I’m dead right now. Okay, I need to stop making jokes about death. Well, at least death means I’ll never be scared about dying again.

"Anyways, I made this mixtape for you! It has all of our favourites. Hope you like it. I put all of my dying effort into it. Okay, I’m sorry.

"Before the first song starts, I just want to say how gosh darn much I appreciate you. You’ve always been there for me, Marvin. Even when we broke up, you were alway in my head, in my heart. I love beating you at everything, cooking for you, holding you, kissing you, having great, well almost great, sex with you, I loved being with you. We probably didn’t realise this two years ago but we completed each other. We fit just nice. We fit.

"Marvin, even if there is no afterlife, I will miss you. If I could trade anything to just be with you for a few more years, heck even months or weeks or days or hours or minutes more, you know I would. And I know you would too.

"I know I’m dying, or well, dead by the time you get this, but Marvin, we’ve lived. No matter how short our lives were together, we lived. And now I have to go.

"I hope you enjoy this little mixtape. I love you, Marvin Feldman…”

I slowly opened my tearful eyes as Mr. Blue Sky by Electric Light Orchestra started playing.

I looked at the ring I was wearing on my finger. This was the song that was playing on the radio when he proposed about four months ago, in this very room. Gosh, I missed him so fucking much.

Jason came in halfway through the final song.

“Hey, Dad! What are you doing with my Walkman? Are you crying? Is everything okay?”

I wiped away my tears. “Yea, everything is okay.”

“You sure?” he said, hugging me.

“With you here? Of course.”

***

October 20th, 1982. I was woken by the sound of someone blowing a party horn into my ear.

“Geez, Mendel! I’m literally dying!” I yelled, sitting upright. By my bed stood Jason, Mendel, Trina, Charlotte, and Cordelia, all in party hats.

“Happy Birthday!” they cheered. Jason threw confetti at me.

“You guys…, you shouldn’t have!” I said, brushing off the confetti on me.

“Oh come on Marvin, after everything, the least you deserve is a birthday party!” Trina exclaimed, before putting a party hat on me.

“Did you guys literally decorate the place while I was asleep? I was that knocked out, huh.” I said, eyes wandering around the room, and hands fidgeting with the hat. “Wait, are those…”

“Yup. I found like three shoeboxes full of polaroids he took while collecting your stuff. One just contained way too many polaroids of you. We thought you’d like it if we decorated the room with all of them. I mean there’s enough of them to fill three entire walls.” Cordelia said.

“He took pictures of me naked while I slept…”

“Apparently so.” she replied.

“Why the fuck is Astro the dog on my penis?”

“Well, Jason said he didn’t want the Jetsons stickers he had. Plus, we couldn’t think of a better way to censor you.” Trina chimed in.

“Let’s make it clear that I would not have said that if I had known what they were going to be used for.” Jason defended himself.

“Guys, I really truly appreciate this. You don’t know how much. Thank you so so much.”

“You deserve this,” Mendel said putting the horn in his mouth.

“I swear to God, if you blow that one more time I will punch you right in the face, I don’t care how weak I am.”

He slowly put the horn away.

“Oh, presents!” Jason piped, grabbing a nicely wrapped box from under the bed. “Open it! It’s from all of us!”

“Wow, you really shouldn’t have…” I said, keenly unwrapping the box.

A puppy.

“His name,” Mendel said, knowing my trigger word.

“His name,” I replied, taking the puppy out of the box, placing it on my lap and tickling its belly. “Thank you guys so much. He would have loved this little guy.”

“We know,” Jason said, taking the puppy from me and holding it closed to my face. It started licking me.

“Jason! Hey!” I giggled, taking the puppy away from him and wiping the saliva off my face. Everyone laughed.

“Who’s taking him when I go upstairs.”

“Oh please, upstairs? Like you’ll end up there!” Trina blurted. “I’ve literally walked in on you guys having sex so many times!”

“Ew! Mom!” Jason said, pretending to throw up.

“That’s exactly what I said!” Charlotte piped in, ignoring Jason’s act of disgust. “Like why they ever trusted us with keys, I won’t know!”

“I know right!” Trina responded.

“Oh my God! It’s staying with us okay!” Jason cried.

“Really, just a few weeks after Useless ran away? Don’t you guys need more time to grieve.”

“We’ve had enough time grieving while having to tend to Useless every time he needed a hand to hold as he shat,” Mendel said. Cordelia burst into laughter. We stared at her.

“No, not funny? Okay.” She stifled her laughter. Charlotte wrapped her arm around her.

“You guys are honestly the best dysfunctional family a man could ever ask for,” I said, holding back my tears.

“Well, that’s on irony.” Mendel laughed, trying to make the atmosphere light-hearted.

“No, but seriously, I don’t know what I would have done without you guys.”

“Marvin…” Mendel said.

“Trina, I’m so sorry for everything I’ve ever done to hurt you. I’m so very sorry.”

“It’s okay Marvin. I forgive you.”

“Thank you Trina, but I don’t deserve your forgiveness after everything which has happened.”

“Marvin…” she cried.

“Mendel.”

“Marvin.” he said, voice cracking.

“I never really thought of you as a good psychiatrist.”

“I get that a lot.”

“But, you were honestly the best there is.”

“Well, that’s new.”

“You kept this family from breaking apart.”

“Marvin…”

“Promise me you’ll take care of Trina and Jason?”

“Marvin…”

“Promise me that.”

“I promise.”

“Jason.”

“Okay.”

“I’m so very proud of you.”

“Okay.”

“Take care of this little guy, okay?” I said, picking the yapping dog from my lap and handing it to him.“

"Okay.”

“I love you so much, son.”

“Okay.”

“Charlotte, Cordelia.”

“Marvin.” they said together.

“You guys have been the best of friends anyone could have asked for. You guys have always been there whenever I needed a shoulder to cry on. You guys have helped me come to my senses on so many occasions. I doubt I would have made it this far if not for both of you.”

Two of them smiled.

“Cordelia, please continue to bless this world with your amazing food.”

“Oh come on, my food isn’t that good…” She said, offering me some Gefiltah fish.

“Sorry but I haven’t been able to eat solids for days.”

“Oh.” She said closing the container.

“It’s fine. And you can have my apartment for that cooking studio you wanted.”

“Really?” She said excitedly.

“Yea. I would love for you to have it.”

“Charlotte, continue to save lives, like what you’ve done for mine. You’ve been so kind to me. You and Cordelia helped me out so much when I first broke up with him. I don’t know what I would have done without you two.”

“Oh fuck you Marvin.” the doctor cursed. “Give me a hug.”

“Me too.” the rest of the adults said in unison.

The four of them gave me a group hug as Jason sat silently on the bed, gazing off into space. I took hold of his hand.

“I love you guys so much,” I whispered, holding back tears.

**

My party, spent with the others coming close to finishing all the food Cordelia made, sharing limitless good memories with each other, and playing some of Jason’s board games, ended up going on until late at night.

By 11 pm, everyone else was fast asleep. Trina and Mendel on the chairs by my right, Cordelia and Charlotte cuddling on the chair to my left, and Jason next to me on my bed.

I, however, was still awake, my body getting weaker and weaker every second that passed. It felt as if death was already in the room, choking me tighter and tighter. I started to breathe faster, hoping he would loosen his grip. But the more breaths I took, the firmer his clutch become.

After a few minutes of fighting him, I let him take over, knowing that time was up.

I lightly squeezed Jason’s hand. He woke up.

“Hey,” I weakly whispered.

“Dad? What’s wrong?”

“You’ve made me so proud, you know that? So fucking proud.”

“Dad…”

“You’re gonna grow up to be someone so damn amazing.”

“Dad…”

“I’m so sorry Jason.”

“Dad!” he yelled, causing everyone to wake up.

“Marvin, you okay?” I heard Charlotte ask.

“I love you so much, Jason.”

“I love you too Dad, please don’t go.”

“Marvin…” Mendel said softly, putting his hand on my shoulder

“Take care of the puppy for me ok?”

“Dad no…”

“Marvin please…” Trina whimpered.

“I love you, Jason. I love all of you guys.” I said, looking around at all the despondent faces the room. I cupped Jason’s face with my hand and kissed his forehead.

“Dad, please don’t do this. I love you! Stay for just one hour more, please. One hour more.” Jason whined, tears forming in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry.”

“One hour more. Please, Dad! Don’t leave me.”

“Jason, everything will be alright,” I whispered, before turning myself to face the ceiling. I let the excruciating pain throughout my body drain out the cries as I braved myself for the darkness to come.

*

White.

Pure, blinding white.

Pure, blinding, endless white.

Contrary to the current situation, I felt so much more alive than I had in months.

I looked down at my clothes. My favourite suit, not an uncomfortably revealing gown.

“Marvin.” I heard a familiar voice call.

I looked up. There he was. In his favourite suit. Looking as handsome as I could remember.

“Whizzer.” His name fell out of my mouth almost instantly.

“Long time huh.”

“Too long.”

“I missed you so much.”

“I-I was forgetting you. I was forgetting memories of us. I was forgetting so much.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“I wasn’t?”

“Who the hell forgets me? I’m super unforgettable!”

I grinned widely. “You’re- You’re here. In front of me. Flesh and bones!”

“I’m pretty sure we’re dead souls. I highly doubt that souls have flesh and bones.”

“I-I mean, I guess? So, uh, are we in heaven? Cause all of our friends are convinced that we would’ve ended up down there.”

“Uhm, not really…” he said, reaching out his hand. “Come, I’ll show you.”

I hesitated. I haven’t touched him in so long. I’ve forgotten what he even felt like.

“You trust me, right Marvin.”

“Whizzer, you know I do,” I said, taking his hand his hand, his soft touch sending tingling feelings down my body.

He grinned, before pulling me along.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lovers come and lovers go

Lovers live and die fortissimo

This is where we take a stand

Welcome to Falsettoland

#falsettos #musicals #broadway #william finn #bill finn #james lapine #christian borle #andrew rannells #anthony rosenthal #brandon uranowitz #stephanie j. block #tracie thoms #betsy wolfe

[eat-a-mint-jungkook]

Just Give Me a Reason

Aaand the reveals are out! Here’s my fic for the Jikook Kissmas Day exchange~ 

It’s also on AO3! 

7k of wintery Jikook fluff fluff fluff (and a dash of angst)

Jimin shows Jungkook the reasons why he needs a girlfriend, and the one reason that he doesn’t.

Blind date.

The two words that Jungkook had been hearing over and over from the moment he got home for the winter break. It was like an earworm—constantly echoing through his mind even after his parents had finally stopped repeating it.

Jungkook hated the topic. He didn’t need a girlfriend, heck, he wasn’t even good at talking to girls. It was difficult enough just trying to get through his finals, and he didn’t need another thing to worry about. So when his parents brought up inviting Soljin over for a Christmas dinner with their family, he called for backup from his best friend.

Jimin and Jungkook had been the best of friends since they were kids in elementary school, and Jungkook figures that if anyone could understand his current situation, it’d be Jimin.

And if anyone could convincingly pretend to be his significant other, it’d also be Jimin.

“Where are you going?” Jungkook’s mom asked as he opened the front door.

“Heading out with my girlfriend!” He lied through his teeth, running outside.

“What makes you think this plan will work?” Jimin questioned as they walked along the street. “It seems kind of flimsy considering how I’ve already known your parents for so long.”

“We’ll make it work. Or just enough so that they get off my back about this whole dating thing. I just hate how they keep nagging me about it,” Jungkook huffed, kicking a rock out of his way. “Like, before it used to be about how I needed to improve my math grades, and then when I did that, it would be applying for university, and then now that that’s done, it seems like they’re not going to stop about this. Well, until I actually get a girlfriend or something.”

“I mean, you could just get a girlfriend.” Jimin raised an eyebrow at him.

Jungkook wrinkled his nose, adverse to the idea. “But why do you need someone else to be happy? My life is already good enough as it is—well, or bad enough, depending on how you look at it—and I just find no reason to need a girlfriend.”

Jimin chuckled. “That’s true, but don’t you ever feel lonely? Like, especially during the holidays where everywhere you go, there seems to be couples there, acting all lovey-dovey.”

Jungkook thought a bit. Sure, it might be nice to have someone to do all those things with, but to him, it wasn’t much different from what he already had. Jimin was the one who usually went with him to all of those places anyway. Whether it’s the movies, trendy new restaurants that they wanted to try, or just hanging out at one of their houses on special holidays.

“But I have you. Why would I need a girlfriend when I already have you?” Jungkook asked, mouth setting into a frown. “You’re pretty much the same thing already.”

“Thanks, now I’m Jungkook’s girlfriend.” His best friend gave have him a boring look. “That may be true, but a significant other shouldn’t just be a romantic partner. What makes the best relationships is usually having someone who’s like a best friend.” He paused, thinking about the rest. “Besides, you can do much more with your significant other than with your best friend.”

“Like what?”

“Like…” Jimin trailed off. “A lot of things.” A hint of a smile appeared at the edge of his lips. “If you want, I-I guess I could show you? Since we’re proceeding with your plan anyway.”

“Mhm, yeah sure.” Jungkook replied easily. “We’re definitely going to need to practice if we want to be convincing the next time you meet them.”

The next time they headed out was to the Christmas Market, and it was time to put the plan into action.

Strings of unlit lights were strung across the street, in between old-style lanterns that would glow when it got dark. Wooden stalls lined up at the sides of the small street, each vendor selling something different and unique from the rest. It was still fairly empty as it was the afternoon, but Jungkook was sure that this place would come to life as soon as nightfall hit.

“It’s so cold.” Jungkook blew air at his hands, trying to warm them up.

Jimin reached out, “Here, give me your hand.”

Jungkook expected them to be warm, to provide some much needed heat to defrost his own. But he was completely wrong.

“Yah, what the—?” He tried pulling his hands back from Jimin’s below-freezing ones, but the shorter boy kept them trapped tightly. “You baited me.” He glared at his best friend.

But when Jimin intertwined their fingers, he completely stilled in surprise.

The brunette gave him a cheeky smile. “And that’s what holding hands is like.”

“Tch, it might’ve been nicer if your hands weren’t so cold.” Jungkook snorted, shoving his hands back into his coat pockets.

Oh, right. It was just a part of the fake dating thing.

Soon, it started getting dark very fast, the sun disappearing without a trace. Only a faint blue at the edges were reminiscent of the light in the sky. There were no streaks of orange and yellow, bleeding together across the horizon like there’d been in days not long ago.

As he’d expected, the night market started bustling to life. The strings of Christmas lights strung across the streets lit up, casting an radiant glow to the market. It was almost magical, like something one would see in a movie, like the memories of early Christmases as a child. They sparkled, twinkling against the reflections of eyes as they would light up with wonder and excitement. They danced in Jimin’s eyes, creating a kind of gleam in them that had him staring for a bit.

“Look over there!” Jimin’s soft voice called. Jungkook looked over to where the shorter boy was pointing.

Over by the end of the street was a giant Christmas tree, all decorated with shiny ornaments. The different coloured lights flickered and faded, pigments changing every few seconds. It was simply beautiful.

He also noticed the amount of couples nearby, taking intimate-looking pictures of themselves. A lot of them were kissing or touching in some way, and he quickly looked away from them, flashing a smile at Jimin instead.

“Um, I mean…we could…” Jungkook started.

“Do you want to take a picture?” Jimin asked, pulling out his phone. “Smile!” He beamed at the screen, pulling Jungkook closer to him.

Jungkook grinned, showing a toothy smile as he bent just slightly to shift even closer to Jimin.Their faces were pressed closely together, practically cheek to cheek, with the faint shadows of the light casted against their skin.

What he didn’t expect, was that at the last minute, Jimin’s lips lightly brushed his cheek.

A… kiss?

“And that’s what taking a couple selfie is like.” A bubbly laugh released from his mouth and Jungkook was left staring at him, cheeks reddening.

“How was that?” Jimin asked him later. “That was what, two reasons already, right?”

“Mhm,” Jungkook mumbled. It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t bad at all since it was Jimin.

He might’ve enjoyed it more than he let on.

“Welcome to Tea Palace!” A tall and handsome boy greeted from behind the counter. His name tag that said “Taehyung”, and a green apron were the only indication that he worked here instead of at some sort of modelling agency. “Have you guys heard about our buy one, get one free deal?”

Jungkook shook his head slightly, glancing over at the sign beside the counter.

“We have a Christmas special for couples—if you share a kiss under our mistletoe over there,” he pointed to the corner of the store where there was some mistletoe hanging above a giant photo frame, “then post it on social media and tag us in it, then you can get two bubble teas for the price of one.”

“Oh, cool.” Jimin nodded. He gave Jungkook a sideways glance, a hint of a mischievous smirk apparent on his face.

“Jimin—we can just—”

“Do you want to do it, baby?”

He should’ve known what the brunette was thinking.

“I—what—um, sure…I mean if you want to,” Jungkook managed to squeak. He was sure that his face was as red as a tomato by now, and the barista boy’s intense gaze didn’t help at all.

Jimin took his hand, leading him over to the corner. Taehyung followed along behind them, taking the phone from Jimin when he passed it to him to take the picture.

It’ll just be like earlier. No big deal. Calm down, Jeon!

“Okay, whenever you’re ready!” Taehyung glanced at them from behind the camera, a few feet away from where they were behind the giant photo frame.

Jimin smiled, pulling Jungkook slightly closer. Sure, he’d been this close to his best friend before, but it was never in this kind of situation, and seeing him in this different kind of light made his heart race. He could see the way Jimin’s eyes sparkled as they focused only on him, the contour of his cheeks, and the curve of his pink lips.

“Just close your eyes and relax.” Jimin whispered and gave the smallest of nods, reassuringly. Jungkook slowly closed his eyes as he felt hands gently cup his face, and then there was the warmth of Jimin’s breath against his lips.

Wait where do I put my hands? Am I supposed to bend down lower…? What if I mess it up and Jimin hates me forever and we don’t even get our free bubble tea?

Jungkook decided he couldn’t have this failing. They were pretending to be a couple today after all, so this had better be believable. As Jimin’s lips slowly met with his own, he tilted his head just slightly more to the right and put his hands around the smaller boy’s waist, lightly pulling him in until there was no space between them anymore.

The kiss was soft, sweet like the smell of sugar floating in the air, tender like the whisper of a faint summer breeze. Despite how confident he seemed earlier, Jimin’s touch seemed almost hesitant—a bit shyer with the way his fingertips brushed against Jungkook’s cheeks, and how tentatively his plush lips glided so easily into his own.

It ended even before he realized he’d been expecting more, but it left him breathless nonetheless. Jimin’s cheeks were dusted with pink and when he opened his eyes and met Jungkook’s, he quickly looked away with the slightest smile.

When Jungkook finally glanced over at their cameraman, Taehyung was standing there was his mouth wide open in a shocked stance.

“Um, so did you get that?” Jimin asked quietly. That seemed to jerk barista-boy out of his thoughts and he quickly nodded.

“Yes, yes of course.” He handed the phone back to Jimin. “That was so romantic,” he said under his breath a little too loudly.

Jimin ducked away from Jungkook’s stare but found his hand and laced their fingers together.

“I posted it.” Jimin chuckled, showing Taehyung his phone screen. Jungkook peered over to get a look at it too, but Jimin quickly closed it before he could see it properly. Nonetheless, even the vague image of them kissing made his heart skip a beat.

“That’s cute,” Taehyung stopped to cough a few times, “um, so you get to choose anything from on the menu! Just pay the price of the more expensive one.”

Jungkook chose something on autopilot mode while his mind was constantly drifting back to the kiss scene.

“Well that was a success. Look at all the benefits that couples get.” Jimin elbowed him teasingly as they left the store. “I guess we were quite convincing.”

When he later checked his social media, Jungkook did see that Jimin posted a picture of the two of them, but it wasn’t of them kissing, nor was the caption a single red heart like he thought he previously saw.

Jungkook eyed the ice cautiously as soon as they got within proximity of the rink. It was Jimin’s idea to go skating, and if it were anyone else, Jungkook would’ve rejected the thought right away. But there were only a few days of winter break left, and he wanted to spend as much time as possible with his bestie.

“Come on, we’ll be even better than them.” Jimin gestured towards all the couples skating on the ice.

The ice looked quite crowded with people skating all around: from families to small children, to…couples. Lots of couples. They seemed to all be laughing, with the bright smiles on their faces. Jungkook was just glad he couldn’t hear them under the booming of the music being played nearby.

However, he had a more urgent problem at the moment, since many people meant many blades. And many blades meant many chances of getting into some sort of accident with them. What if—

“Come on, the ice is perfect right now.” Jimin beckoned from where he stood at the edge of the rink, waving at Jungkook, who was still firmly planted on the bench.

“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” he muttered, shakily standing up and trying not to wobble from side to side on the blades.

“You’ll be fine; you learn so quickly.” Jimin smiled reassuringly. “Besides, I’ll catch you if you fall.”

He simply gave the other a wary glance and then he was slowly putting his left skate down onto the ice. He made sure it wouldn’t slide out from underneath him before attempting to shift his weight and lift his right foot.

And that’s when it happened.

He definitely foresaw this coming, but couldn’t do anything to stop it as both of his feet started sliding forward and he couldn’t shift his weight fast enough, and then he was falling, falling—

“You okay?” Jimin’s hands were tight around his waist, attempting to hold Jungkook up from where he stood behind him. “That was a close one.”

Heart still pounding from almost having fallen, he got his next scare when he tried to look at Jimin’s expression, and discovers that their faces were mere centimetres apart.

He quickly turns away. “Y-yeah. Real close. Thanks.”

Jimin helps him back on his feet and Jungkook finds himself missing the warmth of his body already.

“Okay, so it’s just like rollerblading, but you get more freedom on the ice without friction.” Jimin skates in front of him then does a half spin, turning around to face him. “Keep all your weight on one foot, then as you push off, shift all your weight to the gliding foot.”

Jungkook did as he said, trying to take small steps forward, but never staying on one foot for too long. Jimin continues skating backwards, always staying in front of Jungkook with his arms slightly outstretched, as if ready to catch him at any moment if he falls. 

“You still have to lift your foot, you know,” the brunette teased with the amusement clear on his face.

“Shut up,” Jungkook muttered. He lifted his foot just a bit higher this time after he pushed off, just to show him.

But somehow something didn’t work again.

Jimin was there in an instant, catching him as he tripped and stumbled forward.

“Don’t laugh.” He shot a dull look at the ground, already knowing the kind of expression the shorter boy would be wearing.

“Do you want me to pull you along? Some people find it easier to just glide first to get used to the feeling of skates.” Jimin pulled him up, but didn’t let go of his hands this time.

His hands were barely warmer than Jungkook’s, but they were comforting all the same. Jimin started skating backwards, his feet going in alternating C-shaped movements while he constantly checked over his shoulder for other skaters. At first they were just slowly weaving their way in between the crowd, but then Jimin started speeding up, hands tightening their grip on Jungkook’s.

“Will you stop putting your feet like that? It makes you a thousand times heavier to drag.” Jimin chuckled. “Well, on the bright side, it looks like you’ve figured out how to stop.”

“This is how you stop?” Jungkook tried exaggerating the slight triangle shape his feet were forming, which did not go as expected.

The front of his skates collided into each other, managing to trip him, which caused him to tumble straight into Jimin. To make matters worse, when Jimin tried to hold him up, that made their skates crash together and it knocked the both of them down.

And that’s how Jimin ended up splayed on top of him, head resting on his chest. Jungkook couldn’t really feel the pain from falling or the iciness under his thick jacket, not when there was the warmth of Jimin there.

“Sorry…” He tried to lift his head a bit to look at the brunette. “Are you okay?”

“Jungkook, are you okay?” Jimin met his eyes. “Did you hit your head? How’s your tailbone? Gosh, I should get off of you. It must hurt enough already.”

Jimin made a move to carefully climb over him, but just got pulled down again.

“No, wait,” Jungkook murmured. Brushing his thumb over Jimin’s bottom lip, he hesitated just a second before bringing his mouth down and sealing them over the other’s.

Jimin’s lips were cold but the warmness of his mouth made up for it. The warmth of everything about him, especially when his cheeks heated up even more.

“…maybe you did hit your head.” Jimin murmured shyly when they pulled apart, looking away as he rolled off of him.

“Mhm,” Jungkook hummed, sitting up on the ice. Now that Jimin’s warmth was gone, he could feel the frigid surface beneath his butt. But nothing seemed to explain why kissing Jimin had just felt so right, even if it was all a part of their plan. “Maybe…”

“Get up,” a hand reached out for him, and if it weren’t for how cold his butt was, he would be tempted to pull Jimin back down again. He took Jimin’s hand and put one blade down on the ice, before carefully shifting his weight and setting the other one down.

One hand tightened around his, guiding him forward slowly, not letting go for the rest of the time they spent on the ice.

Jungkook can’t say he regretted the decision to go skating, despite having fallen all too many times. There was no complaining when Jimin’s hand stayed glued to his the whole day, even its coldness providing warmth in some way.

The square was crowded by the time they arrived close to midnight. People were bundled up and huddled together in the below freezing temperatures, swaying just slightly as they watched the performances on stage. The music was loud and Jungkook could feel the bass vibrate through his whole body.

With Jimin’s hand in his, they weaved their way through the sea of people and found a spot closer to the center of the square.

“There are only ten minutes left until we ring in the New Year! Do you have your wishes and resolutions ready?” the MC on stage announced. “We’re going to have one last performance before we start the countdown. For this one, everyone get your phones out and let’s light up the night together!”

From the large screen at the front, he could see the crowd of people with their phone flashlights on, waving them slowly with the beat of the soft ballad playing in the background. It was beautiful, like what he imagined fireflies to look like, and the glow that was created together gave a sense of unity.  

Jungkook snuck a peek at Jimin sideways, finding him focusing in awe at all the lights, mouth slightly agape and eyes unblinking. He looked peaceful, and almost ethereal with the dots of light casted across his face. Maybe he was staring for too long—since the more you stare at things, the more different they tend to look—but for a second, Jimin’s features just seemed to glow. The slope of his nose, his sharp chin, the slight puff of his eyelids…when had they become so unfamiliar? He almost looked like a completely different person from when they first met when they were just kids, and trying to figure out what had changed made Jungkook’s heart pound faster.

“Make a wish,” Jimin whispered right when the clock struck, indicating that midnight had arrived. Then there were fireworks blasting loudly, multitudes of colour exploding into the sky, lighting up the night until their dying streaks dissolved into nothingness.

That’s what it would’ve looked like, but Jungkook hadn’t been paying attention to any of that. He didn’t care about missing it, because for him, all of his senses were focused on one thing.

For him, there was only the person in front of him existing in the world at this moment. There was only Jimin’s soft mouth meeting his, the coldness of the air between them seemingly melting as it changed into the warmness of their breath. There was the way Jimin wrapped his arms around Jungkook’s neck, making him feel just as close as without the fluffiness of their jackets. And there were Jimin’s lips, just slightly chapped but meshing against his so delicately all the same, as if every small movement was deliberate, sweetly and tenderly. It made his head spin, as if he was falling again back on that skating rink. Like he was falling into Jimin’s arms again, and Jungkook knew that he’d be there to catch him.

It was Jimin who broke the kiss first to come up for air, though they never moved an inch farther than they had to.

“And this is what a New Year’s kiss is like,” Jimin whispered, a small but brilliant smile lighting up his whole face. There was a faint blush across his cheeks, perhaps from being outside in the cold for too long, perhaps from other reasons, and Jungkook wanted nothing more than to kiss him again.

Jungkook lowered his head just slightly and pressed his lips against Jimin’s once more, just as softly. He felt Jimin melt into him, lips parting, and so he slowly deepened the kiss until his senses were filled with nothing but Jimin Jimin Jimin.

They’d walked out of the square, hand in hand with only the blissfulness stretching the silence between them. The holiday lights seemed to become fuzzy dots blending together, casting a soft glow in every direction. It made Jimin’s brown hair look even more beautiful, and Jungkook gently brushed the dancing snowflakes out of it with his fingers.

“What did you wish for?” Jungkook asked. His heart was still racing, and he still felt the dopamine in his system. It was like seeing the world through a different coloured glass, some pretty kind of glass that simultaneously blurred the world yet gave a sense of clarity.

“Hmm,” Jimin looked away, “for you to finally get a girlfriend this year.”

The glass shattered. “W-what?”

“It’s about time you get one.”

“Jimin, really?” Jungkook frowned.

The shorter boy looked back with a smirk on his face. “Chill. They say that if you reveal your wish, it won’t come true.” He paused. “So, I guess that’s kind of unfortunate for you.”

Jungkook stayed silent, trying to avoid glaring at his best friend by looking away. Whatever magical moment they had was now broken, and he couldn’t help but want to go back to where they were.

Jimin ran a thumb over Jungkook’s bottom lip, tilting his jaw down to make him look at him. “Why, what did you wish for?”

That you didn’t have to leave for school tomorrow.

That maybe time could freeze, and we’d be able to stay just like this.

That we would be together forever.

“Nothing.”

Days went by and people were going back to their normal, daily lives. Jungkook was back at school, starting a new term of subjects that he didn’t care too much about, talking to people he didn’t really want to know about.

It felt strangely silent in his life, almost uncomfortably empty. Lonely. Jimin had moved back to his dorm on his university campus, and the messages between them quickly grew sparse. Although it wouldn’t be long before they saw each other again for the Lunar New Year, Jungkook felt like something was off, and decided to call him one day.

Three rings was what it took before Jimin finally picked up the phone. Jungkook sighed in relief when he did, wanting to dive straight into the endless conversations they used to have not long ago.

“Hey,” he said quietly, though unable to stop the slight lilt of excitement in his voice.

“Hey.” Jimin replied, sounding distant like he wasn’t quite there. It didn’t quite feel right. Jungkook could feel his pulse speed up even more, and it wasn’t from hearing Jimin’s voice this time, but the twist in his gut that he got.

“How’s school going?” he asked quickly, wanting to shove this feeling of uncertainty down the drain. “I noticed you hadn’t replied to my messages so you must be drowning in work.”

“Mhm,” Jimin hummed. “It’s okay I guess.”

Jungkook picked up right where he left off, not allowing the time for the silences of doubt to start creeping in between the cracks. “Did you join any new clubs? Our anime club over here just picked up again and we’re having this event in celebration of that new skating anime—”

“Jungkook.” The voice at the other end sounded heavy and Jungkook finally stopped his ramble.

“Jimin?”

“Listen, I’m really busy at the moment with all this work.” There was something about Jimin’s voice that made Jungkook’s stomach drop.

“O-oh.” Though it didn’t sound like the truth to him, Jungkook couldn’t do anything but agree. His palms were becoming clammy and his heart felt heavy. Swallowing his worry, he tried to put on a more casual tone, still trying to pretend as if everything was the same. “Is everything okay?”

Jimin was silent for a while, before finally sighing. “Jungkook… I think it’d be best if we gave each other some space.” He then paused, seemingly holding a breath. And Jungkook wanted him to stop there, to somehow freeze time and stop what was probably inevitable now, from happening. “I-I told myself that New Year’s Eve was going to be the last time…Jungkook, it’s a new year; it’s a new chance to make a change, to show the world a new you.”

Jungkook pulled out from his thoughts when a single droplet of salt hit his tongue, and that’s when he realized there were tears blurring his vision and slipping down his face already.

“…and maybe it’ll be the year you finally get a girlfriend.”

He didn’t even hear the rest, if Jimin had said anything else at all, before he was throwing his phone across the room. There was probably a thud or a crash when it landed, but he couldn’t hear it over the sound of his own uncontrollable sobbing. He didn’t even remember another time when he’d cried this much, but his tear ducts must’ve had a mind of their own because they just wouldn’t stop.

And it hurt.

It hurt so much.

He thought back to the New Year’s kiss that night, under the fireworks. Was that what it was—a goodbye kiss? One so sweet and tender, filled with just a glimmer of all of the unsaid words and hidden feelings that had always lingered just beneath the surface. Was that why it was so different—because he knew it would be the last?

If anyone would’ve asked him just a few weeks ago, if it was possible to feel so much, he would’ve told them to stop bullshitting because it’s definitely not possible.

No, it wasn’t possible until this mess happened. It’s like everything he’d experienced within the past few weeks was all leading up to this moment, to the moment where it’d all be suddenly ripped away from him.

If he’d imagined all of the reasons stated in Jimin’s voice before, now it was a brutal awakening in his own voice:

And this is what a breakup feels like.

That was it. The final reason why he should get a girlfriend—because now, he didn’t even have Jimin.

When his parents had asked to meet his girlfriend, in a spur of sadness, Jungkook had told them everything. How he had lied about having a girlfriend, how he only did it because he hadn’t wanted to meet this Soljin person. He hadn’t mentioned anything about his plan with Jimin, because what was the point of that plan anyway? It had failed miserably and caused their friendship to fall apart just like that. The things he felt while “dating” Jimin had been wonderful, but to lose him entirely because of it…

He told his parents that he was agreeing to the blind date with Soljin. Jungkook had told himself that he should at least try this out, that it would be good for him. But deep inside he knew it was just a buffer to temporarily save him from the thoughts constantly eating away at him.

Anything to feel slightly less lonely, right?

It was at a casual cafe where they were supposed to meet, a small and cozy place that had the smell of espresso clinging to the air. The abstract art on the wall almost reminded him of the coffee shop on campus that he used to go to with Jimin…

“Hey, Soljin,” Jungkook greeted quietly, when he spotted her, forcing a tiny smile on his face so that he doesn’t seem rude when all he wanted to do was to run and hide from the world.

Remember, I’m supposed to want this. He already showed me enough reasons why I should want this.

“Hi, Jungkook,” Soljin sat down in the seat across from him, “it’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.”

They got to sip their drinks in silence, neither one of them looking straight at the other.

“So um—”

“I have—”

Jungkook stopped, gesturing for her to go first.

“So I know that our parents actually set us up to meet here today,” she spun her cup in small circles hesitantly, “but I actually already have… someone I love.” Her last words were quiet and if there had been the slightest of noise in the room, he might not have heard.

“O-oh.” Jungkook didn’t know if he should be relieved that he didn’t have to bother with this whole blind date thing, or if he should be disappointed that he will, once again, be unsuccessful in the field of dating.

Soljin grimaced, taking another sip of her drink. “I’m sorry you had to find out like this, but I thought it would be best if we could be straight up with each other.”

“Wait, then do your parents know about…” Jungkook gestured vaguely, unable to find the words to describe what kind of weird situation they were in at the moment.

Her shoulders slightly slouched at his words, and she let out a small sigh. “Well, I broke up with him a while ago, and when my parents found out, they wanted to help me move on.” She chuckled bitterly. “I guess you could say it hasn’t been working out very well.”

“Because you still love him?”

“Yeah. I’m regretting the decision every day.”

Jungkook frowned. “Then why did you do it?”

“He was moving out of the country for an internship, and I knew that the long-distance thing doesn’t usually work out well.” She pursed her lips in thought. “I thought it was for the best.”

“Maybe sometimes it’s more important to follow your heart than your mind.” Jungkook said thoughtfully.

She sighed. “I know that now. At the time I was just thinking about how terrible it’d be without him beside me. There’d be no one to tease and argue with, no one to talk about your deepest thoughts and worries with, no one to do everything with and to enjoy life with.” She gazed out the window. “And I wasn’t sure I was ready to face the world alone. But here I am, after all.”

Jungkook’s mind trailed off, picturing all of the things as she spoke. It was like the time when Jimin had asked him why he didn’t need a girlfriend, and he had replied saying that he only needed his best friend. Because they were practically the same thing anyway.

Because he couldn’t imagine doing any of those things with someone who wasn’t Jimin. And that’s when he realized.

Jimin didn’t give him a list of reasons he should get a girlfriend at all.

Jimin gave him a list of reasons why he was already in love with him. A list of reasons why he doesn’t need anyone else but Jimin, of why Jimin was the only person he wanted to be with.

“Jungkook, you have that look on your face.” Soljin commented, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“I-I- sorry.”

“No, don’t be. You seemed to be thinking about something really hard. It must’ve been important.”

“I—yeah. There’s this guy,” he paused, thinking carefully about what to say next, “and we were really close. As in, best friends. But then somewhere along the way, it seemed like maybe we had something there wasn’t a label for anymore. And it was great. But then…” he stopped, gesturing at nothing once again.

“Sometimes I think people are almost like charges. They may attract each other, but then when they get too close, sometimes they’ll end up repelling each other.”

“That sounds depressing.” Jungkook sighed, starting to slowly move his cup around in circles too.

“But the thing is, when the charges repel, they’ll always get far enough to be attracted to each other again.”

“What are you saying?” He tried to read her expression.

“That there might be a second chance.”

A second chance. The words echoed through his mind and with it, the imagery of Jimin’s smile, his fluffy hair, his melodic giggle. There was his gentle touch, how he would always put Jungkook first, and the way he would bend over when laughing hard at something stupid Jungkook said.

“Thanks, Soljin… I think I know what you’re talking about now,” he said awkwardly, suddenly stopping the swirling of his cup. It felt like a conclusion, since clearly their blind “date” wasn’t going to work out the way it was expected to go. He stood up. “You know, you were wrong about one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You said you weren’t ready to be alone in the world. But I think you are. Because you got here by choice.”

Soljin nodded, gave him a sad smile in return. “But you’re not here by choice. Go get him back before it’s too late.”

Jungkook knew where to find him. In a few hours, he’d successfully made the trek over to Jimin’s university, and was standing outside of his dorm room.

He’d come too far just to back out of it now. He’d have to get him back. He needed his best friend. No, not just any best friend. Jimin was someone far too significant to him to be just a best friend now. And it took him this long to realize it.

Tentatively, he knocked on the door. The sound of his knuckles against the thick wood seemed to echo through the hall in the dense silence surrounding him.

No answer.

“Jimin?” He knocked again, a little harder this time. “Jimin, it’s me, open up…please.” The sentence ended in a whisper as if his voice was stuck in his throat.

Still, there was no answer.

Jungkook sighed, slumping against the door. If Jimin wasn’t home, he would wait until he was. If he wasn’t answering the door, then Jungkook would wait until he had to leave the house for class or something.

He’d wait for him.

This was waiting for the one.

He’s not sure how much time had passed, when the door finally swung open, and startled him out of his mind. He’s not sure if he’d been sleeping or simply awake, lost in the realms of his own thoughts. Perhaps he’d been drifting somewhere in between.

“Jungkook?” a shaky voice cut through the silence. “W-what are you doing here?”

Jungkook watched as the familiar figure stood by the door, eyes still blinking away the sleep that had been there. There was something else about those eyes, though, that he almost didn’t recognize Jimin. They were a bit puffy and the redness around the rims was clear, and there was some sort of cloudiness that wasn’t as simple as sleepiness.

Jimin looked sad.

“I-I had to talk to you.” Jungkook stood up. A little too quickly, for he was stumbling straight into the shorter boy.

“Wh—” Jimin caught him, but Jungkook proceeded to pull him into a tight hug.

“Jimin, you can’t do this to me.” He tightened his grip even more around the other’s waist, as if trying to pull them infinitely closer. As if a gesture like that might make everything right again and that even the universe would consider them as one. “I’ve missed you so much. Don’t leave me.”

“Jungkook.” As he pulled back, there was a slight softening in his eyes, revealing the Jimin that Jungkook knew best. There was the fondness in the depths again, but it was different in that he had never seen Jimin so vulnerable.

Maybe he had never quite noticed the walls that Jimin had put up all this time. How despite being his best friend, how much did he truly even know about him? How so much of their friendship as of late had been about helping Jungkook find himself that he hadn’t even noticed what Jimin had been feeling, had been hiding. But now it seemed like they were all crashing down.

And he wished that he’d seen all the signs earlier, because it was only now that he was completely sure. Sure that he wasn’t the only one who wanted this.

“Jungkook.” A sad smile. “I-I…” He trailed off, eyes flickering away from the taller boy’s face. “I can’t do this.”

“I know, Jimin. You’ve already given you enough reasons.”

A flash of pain through those soulful eyes.

“But those reasons did nothing except for showing me that I’m in love with you, okay?” Jungkook grabbed Jimin’s hand, holding onto it and lacing their fingers together. “Remember this? You promised to never let go.”

“And this,” he brushed his other thumb lightly over Jimin’s bottom lip, “this was just ours. And this.” He leaned in slowly and gently pressed a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“Jimin, you’ve given me all the reasons to why I don’t need a girlfriend. Even from the beginning, that’s what I said, but it took me until now to realize it. It’s not just a best friend that I need. I just need you. Just you, damn it, it’s always been you.”

“You’re so cheesy, Jeon,” he muttered, glancing up at Jungkook through his lashes, a pale pink ghosting his cheeks.

“But you love it?” He felt his heart skip a beat, a glimmer of hope slowly coming back.

Jimin smiled softly. “Yeah…I do.”

And that was all they needed for the distance between them to diminish once again, as if it was never there at all.

“Hey Mom, Dad,” Jungkook started quietly. “We have some news to break to you guys, actually.”

“Oh, how are things between you two? Is everything going well?” Jungkook’s mother gave a nod of acknowledgement as she continued stirring the soup.

“Actually, that’s not what we wanted to talk about…” He paused. “Well—”

Soljin cut him off. “We wanted to tell you guys that we actually haven’t been dating each other, because both of us are already in love with other people.” When Jungkook met her eyes, she gave him a reassuring smile. Confident and brilliant.

“What are you talking about?” Jungkook’s father peeped into the living room.

“When we met for the first time, we both knew that it wasn’t going to work between us. Because we both already had people that we love.” Soljin answered.

“But you said that you didn’t really have a girlfriend, Jungkook?”

“I wanted to tell you guys. I’m,” he took a deep breath, “actually dating Jimin.”

There seemed to be a silence in the room and he didn’t even know he was holding his breath, awaiting the dreaded reactions of his parents.

“Jimin? As in that sweet boy you’ve known all these years? Your best friend, Jimin?” His mother turned off the stove and walked over to the living room, where everyone else was.

“Y-yeah. Park Jimin.” Jungkook pulled Jimin over from where he’d been standing by the doorway. He flashed a smile and gave a small wave at Jungkook’s parents.

“Oh honey, you shouldn’t be afraid of telling us. We told you that we will support you no matter what, as long as you’re happy! You weren’t really thinking that we’d want you and Soljin to get married or something, right?” His mother paused, still smiling. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, I mean, if you wanted to.”

Soljin laughed. “That’s okay, I’m good.”

“Besides, Jimin is a really nice kid. Maybe you can learn a thing or two from him.” His father grinned, reaching over to pat Jungkook on the back.

Jungkook rolled his eyes. “Sure, he’s so nice,” he muttered under his breath.

“Yah, what are you talking about?” Jimin elbowed him lightly, shooting him a dull look that contradicted the slight smirk playing at his lips.

Dinner went by smoothly, with conversation easy and relaxed between everyone. Jungkook’s parents were happy for him, Soljin and Hoseok were back together and content with their lives. Jimin and Jungkook were in their normal bickering state. It was almost difficult to imagine being anything else, for this just felt so natural, as if this was the only way they could be.

Fingers intertwined and knees brushing, he knew that Jimin gave him enough reasons.

Reasons to love him.

#bts #jikook #jikook fic #jikook kissmas day exchange #jimin x jungkook #kookmin #fluff fluff fluff #kpop fanfic #i had to cut out so much from this omg #it was supposed to be deeper OTL #did anyone even guess before reveals