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hansolmates · 4 years

Text

here comes the bride, all dressed in pride

summary; You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating, lang, alcohol, mc eats meat, tw sexual harassment, toxic family, dick talk, making out, if u have that one family member that pulls bs on you constantly this is it, this fic is for all the people who have a huge ass family who wont leave them alone w.c; 17.3k a/n: my second fic for gcn’s 23 birthday project! the fact that wedding szn zoomed by us like that... and so bc im sad that so many weddings had to be postponed this fic was born! a huge thank u to vivi @eerieedits / @chillingtae for creating this BEAUTIFUL fic banner and separator pls check vivi out to make your fics all purty

prompts used: “You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?” and “I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

if you enjoyed this pls consider giving a like and a share💕💕

Doyeon likes to call Jungkook, “the one who got away.”

You like to call Doyeon, “the one who drove him away.”

In secret, of course. In fact, the only person who knows how much you loathe Doyeon and her behavior is your father. And all your co-workers. And your boss. And your boss’ ex-husband.

And Jeon Jungkook, but of course you haven’t seen the man in two years and back then he was far too polite to address his concerns of your hatred of his then-girlfriend.

Okay, so everyone and their mother knows how much you don’t like your cousin. Kim Doyeon and you have had beef since the sandbox, and for whatever reason is always out to one-up you. A strange competitive nature in everything, academics, family, and even boys. The sick, twisted part of you has come to enjoy it. While you’re not a fighter as devout as Doyeon is, you have your own callous tendencies farmed from the seeds Doyeon has planted in your brain. She gives you a comment? You can’t help but throw one back. Since you’re a painfully mature soul you don’t have any mortal enemies as far as you know, Doyeon is the perfect amount of hot water to keep you on your toes.

“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t be a bridesmaid,” Doyeon cooes next to you, swirling her champagne glass with a too-jutted pout, “but if I did there’d be an odd number of pairings and you’re a little too old to be walking as a bridesmaid, am I right?”

Your nails. Are digging. Through your dress. Alas, you’re in public and you have class. Doyeon smiles at you with all teeth, reminding you of the Beldam from Coraline. Aside from that she looks absolutely stunning in that Lirika Matoshi strawberry dress that has her Instagram aching with likes and love from her baseless followers.

“I don’t know,” you reply lightly, leaning back in your seat, “I mean, if Yoojung and Rena can be bridesmaids and they’re three years older than me, wouldn’t I make the cut? It’s okay to be honest and say you just didn’t want me in the bridal party.”

Doyeon laughs, slaps your thigh like you told her the most hilarious joke in the world. Anyone passing by would think you’re best friends. You laugh too, incredulous at the amount of power she thinks she holds.

“Nice party,” you tack on, surveying the room. It’s filled with pastels and beiges, bright and airy. It’s Parisian themed, and while you’re not a fan of theming cultures, you can’t deny that you’re loving the infinite supply of macarons.

“Oh, yes. This is just a taste of the real wedding,” she laces her fingers together, as if she thinks she’s living an Elizibethean love story, “speaking of, you put on your RSVP that you’re bringing a plus one. Am I allowed to know who’s the unlucky date?”

“As if you care.”

“I care if you’re bringing Jimin. That tiny thing nearly gave Aunt Lillian a heart attack when he gave a striptease at Yoongi’s graduation party.”

You smirk softly at the bold memory. That was the plan.

Doyeon sighs dramatically, crossing her legs and popping out a cherry red heel. She plays with the back on the balls of her feet, letting the little pearly rhinestones glisten in the candlelight, “I should really commend you, cousin,” she drawls, “I mean, how kind of you to be so charitable and give your dopey friends a chance to have fun. After all, I’m sure it is difficult for someone like you to find a date.”

It’s no surprise as to how you end up with a date at any family formal gathering. You say you bring a plus one, and then between Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok. The three of them draw straws as to who gets to gorge on free alcohol and food for that night.

“Difficult?” you arch a brow, “I get plenty of dates.”

Doyeon giggles. She must be feeling extra vindictive today, high on her impending marriage and the taste of bubbly champagne. “By taking turns with those three? You gotta be kidding me,” she snorts, tipping back her crystal, “please y/n. Don’t get so defensive because I’m getting married first. Your time will come. That is, if you stop dicking around with your friends.”

Normally you’d smother any attempt at Doyeon to call out your friends, but now she’s just done that and insulted your ability to get some, and you are livid.

“Actually,” you quip sharply, “I’ve been dating someone. It’s been a couple months, actually.”

“Oh?” Doyeon’s genuinely interested, face falling slightly, “you’ve never mentioned anyone, I don’t see anyone on your social media.”

“Yeah well,” you feign sympathy, pressing your lips together and tilting your head accordingly, “I’ve had to keep it private for a couple of reasons.”

“What, is he ugly or something?” she chuckles, “but really, who’s the person who has the misfortune of being in a committed relationship with you?”

Maybe it’s because Doyeon’s right, the both of you are too old. The two of you have been running around each other for years, with no end in sight. Maybe, the words that linger on the tip of your tongue will be the final nail in the coffin.

“Jeon Jungkook,” you state proudly, clear as day. “Jungkook and I have been dating for three months.”

And you pick up the vanilla macaron that sits innocently on your plate, ravishing it up like it contained all the tension in your table. Between you and Doyeon’s bubble, you could hear a pin drop.

“Jungkook?” her smile is concrete-solid, “my Jungkook?”

“My Jungkook,” you correct, giving her a puppy-eyed look, “I’m really sorry I never told you. I mean, is there ever a right time to tell your cousin they’re dating their ex-boyfriend?” you laugh, either to lighten the mood or because you love the way Doyeon pinches her face, you don’t know.

“How did you two even meet?”

“We reconnected through Seokjin. You know how the two of them play Starcraft together, I just ended up joining the call and he was so funny and nice. We just sorta… felt it.” Doyeon nods like a slow bobblehead, still comprehending in her pea-sized brain, “I just hope it isn’t too awkward. I know it’s been awhile but, if you really don’t want Jungkook to come I can always take Hoseok or something.”

“No, it’s fine,” Doyeon says a little too quickly, masking on her picture-perfect smile. “I’m with Namjoon now, and I’m totally happy. Water under the bridge, it’ll be totally fine.”

“Really?” your eyes practically sparkle, thankful for the amount of glitter and highlighter you’ve dumped on your face today, “I really appreciate it, Yeonie.”

And she quickly downs her champagne glass, and gets up from her seat. It’s haunting, the way she gets up, pink tulle billowing around her ankles. “I have to attend to the other guests,” she says.

“Of course,” you raise your glass.

“But, be careful,” she gives you a little smile, one filled with a last-ditch attempt at a jab, “Jungkook, he’s a little hard to deal with.”

“Oh don’t worry. I know how to deal with Jungkook’s hardness,” you wink, and Doyeon’s face falls like a ton of bricks.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” you shrug loftily, “that’s what I meant, though.”

And you don’t bother watching Doyeon stomp off the metaphorical stage, double fisting two new glasses of champagne from an awaiting butler as she finds some other poor guest to pick on. Now, the matter of securing your date. Conveniently so, the most important man in the room is walking your way, and you manage to snag his tie just as he passes your table.

“Ow—ow! I’m choking!” Seokjin grabs, nearly throwing his tall body onto your lap, hands grappling to release the tension on his neck. “Leave me alone, woman! I just wanted to get some chicken tenders!”

“Jin,” you say sweetly, opening his blazer to retrieve his phone, “I need Jeon’s number, now.”

“Jungkook?” your favorite cousin pales, eyes widening as you take out your phone of your own, copying down the digits, “what did you do?”

“Don’t ask questions.”

Seokjin says your name again, firmer. “You’re playing with fire.”

“It’ll be fine, it’s the last time,” you quell, already knowing how much Seokjin hates being in the middle of your fights. Once you’ve secured the phone number, you place Seokjin’s phone back into his pocket, patting his breast. “Thank you. You know you’re my favorite cousin, you know that?”

He grumbles a “damn right I am” before stomping away, resuming his race for his chicken tenders.

You: hey jeon it’s y/n. I see you’re doing great, i saw on instagram that you released your first app w/yoongi! Totally amazing, been playing for weeks, really upset that i can’t get past the flaming frog boss :((

You: Feel free to ignore this, i won’t blame you if you do. Im at doyeon’s rehearsal dinner, and she basically snubbed my friends and said i couldn’t get some prime dick even though im?? Me??? Anyway, im tired of her shit so im gonna throw it back at her, one last time before she ties the knot. I told her you and i have been dating, and im bringing you as my date to her wedding. Really sorry, the demons took over my brain and made the worst and best comeback of my life. So… if you’re up for being the hottest couple on the floor in three weeks and showing how madly in love we are, please text me back? Or not. You might think this family is crazy and i accept partial responsibility.

You: I’ll buy u every meal for every practice date we have if u agree.💕💕💕

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: thanks, i appreciate that. To defeat the frog boss, go back to the coconut cave and find the garnet garter. It absorbs his fire and u can easily defeat froggo w any level 15 weapon

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: and as for the real reason u texted me. Im in. let’s get pork belly tomorrow.

Two years ago, you were surprised that Doyeon could manage to snag a man as fine as Jeon Jungkook. Also unsurprised, because Doyeon is gorgeous and could snag any man she wanted, and has snagged every man she wanted.

Jungkook was different though. He had an air of innocence to him. He loved her, a little too much to be safe. Your heart would betray you every time you would find him at a family gathering, making her plate and counting the calories she so meticulously measured. How can someone so sweet be with someone like Doyeon?

Your heart ached for Jungkook when they broke up a year later. From what you heard, Doyeon was Jungkook’s first serious girlfriend. And then you wanted to rip your heart out a week later when you caught Doyeon smooching with her favorite graduate professor Kim Namjoon, wanting to erase any possibility you’d have at love. At that time, you never wanted to feel the pain you imagined Jungkook was going through.

“Y/n! Over here!” you’re a little taken aback at how much has not changed in Jungkook. His eyes still sparkle like fresh dew, his smile is still pearly white and infectious. He’s even early, snagging a table at his favorite barbeque place and waiting for you as if he is the one organizing your first date.

At the same time, there’s so much that’s changed about him. He’s confident, even going so far as to walk over to you and slip your jacket and purse in his grasp like a gentleman. He leads you by putting a hand lightly at the small of your back, making you feel impossibly small in comparison to his Dorito-shaped body, broad shoulders and a deliciously trim waist.

“How was the walk over?”

“Not too bad,” the conversation is casual, easy. You wipe the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. “Could use a little exercise now and again. I did eat a whole tray of macarons at that rehearsal dinner.”

Jungkook laughs from his belly, causing you to smile. “Nonsense. You look great, by the way,” you don’t mind it, actually, you enjoy it when his eyes rake over your body. After all, he’s now your boyfriend and he needs to get familiar with all the important bits. He leans his arms forward, bracing him against the wooden table so his face is closer to yours.

“You’re not doing too bad yourself,” your eyes gloss over the veins and intricate tattoos that paint his muscled upper half. Your smile morphs into a smirk, letting him know you’re enjoying the view just as well as he is.

And as soon as the tension sparks, it ends just as fast when your waiter comes up to light your grill.

“So,” Jungkook wastes no time in decorating your stove, making sure to add all the appropriate aromatics and infusions to season your lunch, “do you know why Doyeon and I broke up?”

“Cheated on you with Namjoon, I assume,” you keep your eyes trained on the darkening meat.

Jungkook slips a piece of meat in his mouth. Any expression of pain (whether it be from Doyeon or the barely cooked meat) doesn’t reveal itself as he stops to take a sip of water. “Who else knows?”

“Just me and Seokjin. The family loved you too much and Doyeon made up some sob story about how you two were going different life paths.”

He chuckles to himself, taking great care in flipping the meat. “I really was a fool in love, wasn’t I?”

“It… was mildly cute.”

“Tell me the truth, you have no reason not to.”

“Okay, you made me want to vomit rainbows and glitter every time I saw you.”

The two of you laugh, faces crinkling shamelessly as the two of you busy yourselves with setting up the table. Most of the food is done and the aroma of fresh onions wafts around your grill. As you place chopsticks on his side of the table, you think about all the times Jungkook made it abundantly clear how much he loved Doyeon: the love letters tucked into her purse, 100 day anniversaries, even just a simple Americano for her in the morning.

“Is that why you never hung out with us?”

“No,” you reply lightly, “Doyeon made it clear that I shouldn’t talk to you.”

Jungkook frowns, “You really don’t like each other, do you.”

You shrug, “Just always been like that,” you quirk a smile when Jungkook places the freshly cooked meat on top of your rice before serving himself.

“So what’s the plan?”

“We go to the wedding, make out a little, get Doyeon boiling. Even if she’s not interested in you, she’d still be upset knowing we are together.”

“And why is that?”

“Because it’s me,” you grin into your glass, staring at a water-stained Jungkook through the blue tinted glass. “And all you have to do, is enjoy your night and look pretty.”

His eyes crinkle, chopsticks pressing between his lips. “You think I look pretty?”

With a roll of eyes you don’t respond, preferring to dig your chopsticks in your rice. No need to inflate Jungkook’s ego too soon.

Pinning the main theme of your hangout to the side, the both of you dig into your meal. You throw conversation back and forth like pebbles, grains of sand that build and build until you’re caught up with each other’s lives. It feels so strange to admit it’s been two years since you’ve spoken to the man, and all of a sudden the once luscious meat feels dry in your mouth.

“Jeon,” you put your chopsticks down, “are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean, I know it’s all my fault and I dragged you into it. Don’t feel obligated to agree to this.”

“I’m a hundred-percent sure,” he doesn’t stop eating, shoving two spoonfuls of rice in his mouth. His cheeks puff up considerably, and your eyes trail down to his neck as he swallows, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna.”

“Right,” you don’t need a big explanation or a personal confession from Jungkook, just his consent. “Partners, Jeon?” you hold up your glass.

“Partners,” he agrees easily. The smile on his face disarms you, a full-fledged grin decked with pearly whites. Clicking his glass to yours he adds, “And it’s Jungkook, babe.”

Oh, this is going to be interesting.

Seokjin thinks the two of you are the most boring fake-couple.

His eyes dart back and forth between your spot on the couch and his desk, where Jungkook is currently seated. Seokjin is hovered over Jungkook, who’s typing and clicking furiously over his PC game. You’re on your phone, feet pulled up to the coffee table while some old Netflix movie plays in the background. To top it all off both of you didn’t even try to dress like it’s daytime, nearly matching in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It doesn’t look like a couple coming to visit Seokin, it looks like Jungkook is playing video games with Seokjin while his cousin hangs around like she owns the place.

“Shouldn’t you guys like, I don’t know, go on dates or something?” Seokjin feels like he’s talking to the air. “Maybe get to know each other before the big day?”

Pulling your phone down to your lap and Jungkook taking off his headphones, the two of you shrug at each other, “No, we’re good.” Jungkook says.

“We know enough,” you agree cooly, “Jungkook likes Valorant.”

“I do like Valorant.”

“He likes pork belly.”

“I do like pork belly.”

“He’s ripped as hell.”

“I am ripped as hell.”

“Okay but have you guys kissed yet?” Seokjin interjects, probably compensating for the nonchalance in the room with his own brand of freaking out. You two only see each other when you’re hanging out at Seokjin’s apartment, and while he’s happy that you two aren’t doing the whole 9-yards and creating an elaborate scheme, the both of you are almost too relaxed. His anxiety is spiking.

“Yes,” Jungkook answers, “at the barbeque place we went to.”

“It was nice," you tack on, "Jin, we got this. Don't worry."

"How can I not worry when you're trying to upset our cousin on her wedding day?" he's sweating in his fully air-conditioned apartment. “I get that she’s the devil’s spawn and everything, but she’s still a human being.”

“In second grade she pushed me on the treadmill because I was going too slow. I got caught on the roller and got a bald spot for two months.”

“Okay yes one bad example—”

“And in senior year she accused me of plagiarizing her essay just because we chose the same topic. I almost didn’t get into college!” Seokjin sighs, crossing his arms. All valid points, and arguing with you isn’t a route he wants to take. “Jin, the point is that she’s constantly pushing my buttons. I’ve always been the bigger person and now that I’m old and confident I just want one jab.”

“That’s valid,” Jungkook pipes up, pressing the spacebar a few times, “I want a jab too, she cheated on me.”

“See? It’s a mutual decision.”

Seokjin asks, “Why aren’t you more worried about this?”

"Because Doyeon isn't going to chew me out on her wedding day," you checked your aunt's seating chart last week and you are far, far away from the bridal table. "We're just going to show off a little bit. Get drunk, eat some bomb steak. Break up in three months or less.”

"You don't have to just convince Doyeon, it's your entire family! Not to mention you also have to go to the bachelor party!"

"Oh I almost forgot," you reach under the couch for your laptop, "Jungkook, in two weekends from now we're flying to Las Vegas for the bachelor party and wedding. I'll buy your ticket now."

"Thanks, babe!” Jungkook sends a cheeky grin to Seokjin, who is unimpressed. “See? I remember to call her babe.”

“Alright, get out of my house,” Seokjin tugs Jungkook away from his computer, causing the younger man to swivel around in his plush gaming chair.

Jungkook frowns at the monitor, “But I’m still bronze one. I’m aiming for silver one by this weekend.”

“Don’t care. As much as I don’t like this plan, I’m not letting you two slip-up.” Seokjin pulls out his phone, revealing Doyeon’s Instagram story, “Doyeon and Namjoon are at the mall buying swimsuits for Vegas. Go to the mall and ‘accidentally’ run into them.”

You sit up straight, tilting your head to the side. “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you bound over to grab your jacket, giving Seokjin a big fat kiss on his cheek, “Thanks Jinnie, do you know you’re—”

“I’m your favorite cousin. Yeah whatever, bye.” He waves you off, plopping in his own chair so he can enjoy his games in peace.

“I’m driving,” Jungkook declares, swiping your keys from Seokjin’s opal dish.

“Oh, hell no,” you jump on your tippy toes to reach Jungkook’s grasp on your keys, but he’s so freakishly tall there’s no way you can reach. “I drive my car!”

“I’ve always wanted to drive your car back then,” Jungkook cooes, leaning in so your noses touch. “C’mon, you can trust me.”

“You two are gross already,” Seokjin admonishes from the other side of the room, “see, it’s working!”

Poking his cheek so he gives you some space, you whip your head to hide the flush that burns on your cheeks. “Fine, but if you crash you’re buying me a new one.”

“They’re over there,” you hiss between the racks, shuffling between the plastic hangers to point to Doyeon and Namjoon at the women’s section of the store. They look disgustingly adorable together, with Doyeon pointedly telling Namjoon which swimsuit suits his stature better while Namjoon nods along and goes with whatever she says. You crouch down lower, fearing Namjoon’s tall frame would catch you. “Now we just gotta act all couple-y and they’ll notice us. Or maybe we can walk over to them? What do you wanna do?”

“Do you think we should get matching swimsuits?” Jungkook pays no mind to your sleuthing, holding up a red pair of swim trunks to his thighs, “we could pretend to be sexy lifeguards.”

You tilt your head away from the pair, only because Jungkook has been genuinely interested in this store since you’ve arrived. Putting a hand under your chin, you scrutinize the dark red cutoff shorts. “They’re cute,” you nod appreciatively, “It’ll make your thighs look thick.”

Jungkook’s grip on his hanger lowers, and he regards you with dark eyes. “You think my thighs look thick?” he asks, leaning in and putting one hand on the curve of your waist. His fingers dance on the surface of bare skin between your top and jeans, and while you’ve agreed beforehand that you two could touch each other wherever in public, it still surprises you when gooseflesh rises to the surface.

“Easy there, tiger,” you chuckle, putting a hand on his chest to stop his sudden bout of flirting. “I’m just stating the facts, we get it. You lift.”

“You’re so cute when you try to put your guard up,” he’s brushing noses with you now, and you feel the plastic of the hanger crumple pathetically between you two as the gap closes further. “But you can’t hide from me.”

And just as his lips move to press against yours, a shrill “Jungkook!” echoes throughout the large store.

You nearly flop over the boardshorts rack if not for Jungkook’s arms secured around your waist. Oh right, you think dumbly, this is all for show. Doyeon and Namjoon are right in front of you, purchases already made and looking at you two in curiosity. Well, Namjoon is definitely curious, because you know for a fact that Doyeon speaks very little of you to him and you’ve only conversed with him a handful of times. Doyeon on the other hand, looks a little stiff in the grin.

“Hello to you too,” you remark to Doyeon, who’s barely acknowledged you. You reach over to squeeze Namjoon’s arm, “Hi Joonie,” you crinkle your eyes, and you fight back a squeal when he smiles back with dimples. Doyeon has such a cute fiancé, and if you’re keeping score he’s way too good for her.

Doyeon’s eyes glaze over to where you’ve touched Namjoon, and she links her arms with his. “What a coincidence, you two are buying swimsuits where we’re buying swimsuits.”

“Well, there’s only one mall in this town and we’re going on the same trip in two weeks,” you reply blandly, and you feel Jungkook pinch your side. “Oh, Namjoon. Have you met my boyfriend Jungkook?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Namjoon reaches over to clasp Jungkook’s hand, “nice to meet you, man.”

While Namjoon and Jungkook exchange small talk, you pointedly ignore the waves of negativity Doyeon sends your way in favor of observing the two large men. Namjoon just said it was nice to meet him, therefore he has no clue who Jungkook is. Interesting, considering Doyeon two-timed in favor of Namjoon. It gets you a little antsy, and you wonder if Namjoon is faking this whole interaction or if Doyeon is hiding something.

“Baby,” Jungkook rests a hand on your shoulder, regarding you with concern, “you spaced out there, are you okay?”

“She’s like that, Jungkookie,” Jungkook gently presses your shoulders down, blocking your view of Doyeon as she regards your not-boyfriend as Jungkookie. “My cousin’s a bit of an airhead,” her tone is sweet and jesting, the backhanded jab going right above Namjoon’s head.

“I’m just hungry,” you say, forcing a tight-lipped smile.

“Well, that’s perfect,” Namjoon clasps his hands together, “Yeonie and I were just about to go grab some dinner. Why don’t you join us?”

Doyeon and you both reply immediately, “That really isn’t necessary—”

“Nonsense,” you don’t even have the heart to be upset at Namjoon because he looks so damn genuine, “It’s been two years and I haven’t even bought you a meal, y/n. After all, we’re going to be family at the end of the month.”

“Right,” you answer reluctantly.

“We’re gonna make reservations at the Cheesecake Factory,” he pulls out his phone, ready to make a call, “but you and Jungkook can finish shopping, okay? The wait will be a little long but by the time you’re done our table should be ready.”

You and Jungkook wave off Doyeon and Namjoon as they make their way to the restaurant. Your hand is caught in the air by Jungkook, who regards you with worry in his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked spaced out,” he says, “tell me what you were really thinking.”

Subconsciously, you squeeze his palm for comfort. “I don’t know, it just feels weird knowing Namjoon doesn’t seem to know you at all. Normally Doyeon loves to talk shit about her exes.”

Jungkook scoffs easily, “I mean, if she’s marrying the guy I’m sure she doesn’t want to let him know the details of how they ended up together.”

“True,” you decide to let it go, and follow Jungkook to the register to pay for his swim trunks.

“So,” the little ‘ding’ of the register opens up the money box, and Jungkook quickly hands the clerk his cash, “we’re having dinner with them after this?”

“Only if you want to.”

“We need to, right?” Jungkook thanks the clerk, holding the bag in one hand and threading his fingers through yours as you head out the store.

“Well, do you want to?” you ask again. Jungkook stops the two of you on the sidewalk. It isn’t a fast stop, but a slow down that makes his walk a little more thicker, more deliberate as he trudges you down the lane. You move in front of him, clutching your hands between his. “Are you okay? You barely even acknowledged Doyeon.”

“I’m fine,” you flinch at his harsh tone, and he immediately moves to remedy it by squeezing your hand back. “I’m sorry. It’s just been awhile and I’m definitely over her but,” he bows his head, feeling embarrassed, “she hurt me, you know?”

Going into this is definitely one of the more selfish plans you’ve put your mind to. Your heart pangs thinking about what must be going through everytime he sees her. If he’s reminded about all the good times they shared, or how much he’s over thought every single conversation he’s had with her up until this point.

“Of course,” you completely understand, knowing from the beginning that this whole mess would end up with some dicey feelings someway or another. “I’m just thankful you chose to stick by me. And we can talk about it if you’re comfortable,” both of you being victims of Doyeon’s brand of torture, you hope the two of you can at least be friends after all of this is over, “we don’t have to go have dinner with them.”

“But, Namjoon got us a table—”

“Namjoon will be fine. We can always have dinner with him another time,” you smile softly, “what matters is that you’re okay.”

His gaze melts, and you feel his grip loosen in your hold. He regards you with weak eyes, betraying the confidence he held himself to moments before. “Thanks, y/n,” he says, “I really appreciate that.”

“Anytime,” you reply honestly. “We can go to Cheesecake and order to-go. I can make some excuse about how my stomach hurts and that we should do a raincheck.”

“Sounds good.”

“Do you wanna eat at one of our places or eat at the park or something?” you’re already pulling up your phone, checking out the menu. “We could invite Jin too.”

“The park sounds nice,” neither of you acknowledge the fact that you’re not inviting Seokjin, and for some reason that’s okay.

“Yeah,” you agree simply, “the weather’s beautiful.”

Under any normal circumstances, you would’ve been friends with someone like Jeon Jungkook, easily. A little part of you wishes that you could’ve met Jungkook first, but Doyeon has better connections than you and always had a good crowd around despite her inner motivations. No awkward exchange happens when you suggest to Jungkook to eat together. Even though you’re not technically dating, the two of you know that eating together is better than eating alone.

And you have to admit Jungkook’s great company. The two of you drive to a reserve nearby, overlooking a tiny lake. Instead of a fancy Italian tablecloth the two of you move your car seats down and set a spare picnic blanket in the trunk. Instead of a candlelit dinner the two of you find some emergency electric tealights in the glove compartment, lighting it up between you two as you dig into your to-go boxes.

You’re a little envious that so much time has passed by. You could’ve been a little sneakier and made a better effort to communicate with Jungkook when you saw him regularly at family parties, and maybe you two would have a better friendship today. Nevertheless, the two of you mesh like peanut butter and jelly, exchanging conversation that has your cheeks sore from smiling too hard.

By the time you get to dessert, the moon is out and the stars are floating above your heads. The two of you are at war, fighting with your forks over the last strawberry in your cheesecake slice. After some careful stabbing Jungkook manages to nab it with his fork.

He almost puts it in his mouth, but instead swipes up some whipped cream to press the last strawberry to your lips.

“I think it’s working,” Jungkook says randomly as you chew the sweet fruit, “you could see it on Doyeon’s face today. She’s unsettled.”

“Yeah,” you agree, lying down on the lavender gingham picnic blanket.

“Do you know why she fights with you all the time?”

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself since the dawn of time.”

“I think I know why.” Jungkook looks down at you with his large doe eyes, licking innocently on a spoon of whipped cream.

“Pray tell.”

“She’s jealous of you.”

“No,” you disagree easily, “she’s jealous that I have you.”

“Bzzt! Wrong,” Jungkook puts his empty container in your makeshift trash can, falling beside you and knitting his hands under his head. You have a little window on the roof of your car, so both of you are able to stare at the navy sky, “she’s always been jealous of you. Think about it. The two of you have similar lifestyles: same career path, confidence, taste, education. But even after all of that? People still like you more.”

You scoff, hands immediately reaching to fiddle with the frayed corner of fabric next to your fingers. “I don’t think so.”

“I’ve met all of Doyeon’s friends,” he informs you, “they’re weird. Like yeah, they care about each other on the surface level. But they’re nothing of substance. They’re not like your friends.”

“Please, Doyeon has everything she could ever want,” you don’t know what kind of complex you have supporting Doyeon’s life, but something deep and insecure wants to separate you two as far away from each other as possible. “Like… she’s Malibu Barbie and I’m Polly Pocket.”

Jungkook turns to face you, resting his head between his palm and leaning on his elbow. “Do you not think you’re beautiful?”

“Yeah, but compared to Doyeon—”

“You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?”

You choke on your saliva, feeling small and skittish at the implication behind his words. It’s been two years. You’ve only been friends for two weeks. How can he possibly say that?

“I uh, saw you once,” Jungkook coughs, and you watch the way his pale cheeks unmatch the moon and instead flit to a crimson hue, “we were at some party and you were wearing this really cute black dress with a white bow in the middle. Doesn’t even matter what party because it was random, y’know? I was gonna go talk to you but Doyeon got to me first and well, the rest is history.” He breaks eye contact with you, unable to handle it.

You remember that party, vaguely. It was random, some sort of poetry slam in a shady part of town. Doyeon and you didn’t even go with each other, you were with Taehyung and she just happened to stumble in there from another nearby party. You didn’t even know Jungkook was there that night, or how you were a hair's breadth away from meeting him before Doyeon.

“Don’t ever think you’re lesser than her just because out of all the people she chose to pick on, she chose you. It’s why she never lets you get to know her boyfriends. She’s threatened by you because you’re just as special,” something low sparks in your chest at his words, “and now that you’ve finally decided to stoop to her level and fight back with a taste of her own medicine, she doesn’t know what to do.”

Feeling like your body is on a beach and you’re sinking in sand, you soften over your picnic blanket, mulling it over. “Did I make the right choice? Stooping down to her level.” Your voice is quiet, comparable to the chirping birds and buzzing gnats outside.

“We won’t know until after the wedding,” Jungkook answers honestly, “but I do know I’m sticking with you until the end. We’re friends now, got that? You have no excuse to ignore me anymore.”

You don’t want to ignore Jungkook, never in a million years. Now you know that you are envious of Doyeon, for having an opportunity to love and care for an amazing person like him. So in a sudden bout of emotion, you roll over to straddle Jungkook’s waist.

He’s shocked, hands flying to your waist to make sure you don’t wobble off. But you’re determined, and lean down to press your lips against his. He tastes like cheesecake and strawberries, the taste melding with your own as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You melt a little when he squeaks, breaking into a soft moan as he reciprocates the gesture. He’s warm and large and he makes you feel safe. Once your brain returns to your body, you break for air. You only pull back a few centimeters, and there’s no way for you to get off because Jungkook has locked you in place.

“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly.

“Don’t know,” you’re whispering against his lips, unable to pull away, “just felt like we needed a little more practice.”

He blinks, before relaxing in a silly smile. “I agree,” he says simply, dipping you on your back so he can be on top the second time around.

“We’re in Vegas, baby!”

Every single terrible comedy movie set in Las Vegas has brought you to this very moment. You’ve always wanted to say that line. Dumping your luggage next to Jungkook’s, you flop on the nearest mattress. Thank goodness you only wore leggings and a t-shirt on the flight, it’s the optimal sleeping outfit after a long day. Feeling something hard and plastic dig into your brain, you hold up the culprit and squeal excitedly. “Look, Kook!” you wave the crinkly confection in your hands, “they put mints on the pillows!”

Despite your room being a square with two queen beds, the hotel does not skimp on quality. The decor is ornate, the white and gold trim on the doorknobs and metal appliances shimmering beautifully. The beds feel like clouds, as you try to imagine what a cloud could possibly feel like, this is it.

Jungkook immediately follows suit, ripping off his outer clothes until he’s left in his undershirt and boxers, flopping next to you on the mattress. He immediately opens his mouth when you shoot a mint, catching it easily. “I feel like we’re in a deleted scene of Crazy Rich Asians,” he says, letting the hard mint clink around his teeth, “is this the part where you tell me your family comes from old money and I’m gonna be your sugar baby?”

“Don’t be so hopeful,” you narrow your eyes, booping his button nose with your finger.

“I’m just saying, the first class flight threw me off.”

You giggle, slapping his chest, “No. If that was true, we wouldn’t be sharing a room with my cousin. Sorry you have to share the bed with me, I got the hotel with Jin and he doesn’t want to sleep with you.”

“S’okay,” Jungkook replies softly, leaning closer to make grabby hands at you, “you’re softer.”

Tentatively, you scooch over so you can lean on Jungkook’s chest. You two have a little time before Doyeon and Namjoon’s combined bachelor and bachelorette party. The past two weeks have been nice—scratch that, the past two weeks with Jungkook have been wonderful. You never cared to measure how much time passed before meeting him, but now that you’ve begun fake-dating, time is the only thing you regard. You’re already beginning to miss him, knowing that in a week, this whole arrangement will be over.

Well, not exactly over. Jungkook says you’ll remain friends after this, but you don’t really want that. You want more, and it scares you to think he may not feel the same.

But right now you’re snuggling like an old couple, sleeping comfortably between pillow-like sheets and minty breath. Your pretend boyfriend, now your pretend boyfriend with benefits, looks soft and huggable and you want to bottle up this moment forever. You say benefits because, well, the cuddling is an added bonus. Practice practice practice, Jungkook sing songs the words you used that one night under the stars, excuses to seal his lips to your lips. You’ll never argue with that. So when Jungkook’s hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer, you relent.

One second, you’re closing your eyes and the next, you’re waking up to Seokin’s wide eyes staring back at you.

“Eep, you creepo!” you shriek, scrambling away from him. That’s when you realize Jungkook’s missing from bed, the scent of his laundry detergent lingering between the eggshell Egyptian cotton.

“Jungkook’s in the shower,” Seokjin immediately reads your mind, pulling away so he can unpack his luggage. “My flight just got in two hours ago, you both were out like a light when I arrived.”

“Ugh, I’m really not ready to party.”

“Doyeon just texted the family group chat. She reserved the rooftop, the party starts in an hour,” he talks mindlessly, rifling through his stuff. Seokjin is fiddling with his clothes, despite the fact that you know Seokjin prepares his outfits days in advance so he doesn’t have to choose. He looks concerned, pulling out a flamingo pink boardshort and setting it down on his mattress. Finally he says, “I’m worried about you.”

“Why?”

“Because. It’s clear that you’re starting to fall for Jungkook.”

The words strike you straight in the place you’re trying to avoid. You’ve been living in a fantasy these past two weeks, thinly veiled by the whole reason you two are together in the first place. Doyeon’s wedding is just around the corner, and what then?

“I’m not saying that he doesn’t feel anything for you either,” that gets your heart skipping a beat, and you secretly hold a hand to your chest under the blankets, “but do you really want to start off a relationship like this? A relationship all messy and morally objective because it’s built on revenge?”

“Don’t worry about me,” the words easily fall from your lips, “I can take care of this.”

“I hate it when you say that,” the words are curt and harsh against Seokjin’s plush lips, “I’m allowed to worry about you, y/n. You know why? Because, because you’re my favorite cousin too,” he bites his lip, walking over so he sits on your side of the bed. “So don’t tell me what I can and can’t worry about. I want you to be happy, I want you to stop holding in this anger you have for Doyeon and move on.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, leaning over to press your cheek against Seokjin’s shoulder. “You’re right.”

“For the first time in a long time, you’ve finally decided to lean on someone,” and both of you know who that someone is. “I don’t want you to lose him over some petty family issue. You should tell him how you feel.”

“I will,” you wrap your arms around your cousin’s slim waist in a silent thanks.

“Am I interrupting a tender family moment?”

The two of you pull away to stare at Jungkook, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the bathroom. He’s in a plain white t-shirt and the red board shorts that you bought at the mall, cutting off mid-thigh and revealing the bulky muscle underneath. You were right, the shorts do make his thighs look thick.

Seokjin groans exaggeratedly. “Yes, yes you did.”

Jungkook immediately goes to replace Seokjin’s spot, and some stray droplets fall fresh from the shower due to his slicked-back hair. “Do you wanna get ready? First party’s soon.”

“Not really,” you admit, “you’re gonna meet the family all over again.”

“Second time’s the charm,” he winked, “I’ve already met your parents and everything. Not feeling nervous at all.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really,” and the facade cools down a little, “well, maybe a little nervous for your Aunt Lillian. Her stares give me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Aunt Lillian.”

“God the two of you get worse every day,” Seokjin has magically changed into his shorts, tucking himself into the bed, “don’t wake me up until we pre-game.”

Doyeon and Namjoon don’t skimp on the festivities, although in taste the ideas are Doyeon’s in its entirety. It’s lavish and colorful, with a beautiful infinity pool in the middle decorated with lavender and pink headlights. There’s a buffet table overflowing with tasty food. There’s petal pink champagne overflowing from fountains, decorated with fresh strawberries bobbing around the fizzy drink.

“I don’t know,” Namjoon and Jungkook have been talking for well over an hour, and it’s clear how well they mesh together. Heck, you’ve accepted that Jungkook may like Namjoon more than he likes you. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle as Namjoon discusses the various genres of rap and hip-hop music, explaining the potency of mature themes in a young community, “but I will say music is like another language, knows no boundaries when it comes to sending their messages to others.”

You fight the urge to chuckle when Jungkook sighs dreamily at the music theory professor. “Wow, that’s so deep.”

Getting up from your cabana, you nudge Seokjin, who’s currently flirting it up with one of Doyeon’s bridesmaids. “Hey, wanna get a drink?” you ask, throwing your wrap on the cushions to reveal your strappy red bikini.

“And chicken tenders,” Seokjin presses a kiss to the bridesmaid’s cheek, bidding her goodbye as he follows you out of the shaded area.

“Do you two lovebirds want anything?” you stare pointedly at Namjoon and Jungkook. While Namjoon’s eyes stay in contact with you, you can’t help but smile a little more when Jungkook has a hard time keeping his gaze in one place.

“I think we’re fine,” Namjoon answers for both of them, swirling his beer bottle. “I’ll meet you two at the bar once I’m done.”

“Sure thing,” Seokjin puts a hand on your back to lead you to one of the open bars. As much as you like being in a handsome hotel with money to burn, nothing beats the fact that your entire family is here to celebrate. The elders have corroborated two cabanas for poker and other games, while your younger cousins are playing ping pong and air hockey on the other side.

“Namjoon sure is a dreamboat,” Seokjin bemoans, handing you an electric orange drink. You take a sip of it, and bug out when you realize it tastes nothing like alcohol. You’re definitely in for a night. “Like I can hear him wax music thingamajib any day.”

“I thought you were into that bridesmaid.”

“A mere diversion,” he sighs, leaning his tanned arms against the bar, “can’t ignore the deep voice Namjoon has, it’s intoxicating.”

“I’m sure Jungkook would agree,” you egg on.

“What are you two talking about?” you straighten up when the man of the hour shows up at the bar, absolutely glowing under the sunset. He orders a round for the three of you, and you immediately chug your own drink to get to the next one.

“Talking about how you’re stealing Jungkook away from me,” you joke, accepting another fruity drink from Namjoon. Damn, this stuff tastes like candy.

“Oh, never,” Namjoon replies brightly, waving the thought away, “do you see the way he looks at you? Hopelessly in love.”

Maybe it’s the copious amounts of alcohol, but you feel your stomach flip-flop at the thought of love. You’ve always known what love felt like, the warmth of Namjoon’s cheeks whenever he sees Doyeon, when your mom takes care of you when you’re sick, when Seokjin makes sure you’re not emotionally constipated 24/7. But the thought of Jungkook and you in love? It’s a feeling you secretly yearn for.

“Right? It’s disgusting,” Seokjin groans with an eye roll, “like, Jungkook wasn’t like that with Doyeon at all when they were together.”

The slip up has the three of you choking on your own thoughts, staring at each other like the three have just been told you’re on a prank show. But it is no prank, and you look at Seokjin who’s absolutely horrified.

“Oh shit,” he squeaks, looking at Namjoon guiltily, “did I say something I shouldn’t have said?”

“I don’t know,” Namjoon replies coolly, “did you?”

The ominous response gets you going, and you quickly place a hand on Namjoon’s arm, placating him. “They dated, yes. But it was only for a short time and we’ve sorted everything out. Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Oh,” Namjoon quirks his head, and regards you two with pursed lips. “I’m not one of those guys who freak out over other people’s exes. I’m just surprised that I’ve only heard this now,” Namjoon takes a slow sip of his drink, and despite your drink also being cold and refreshing, you’re absolutely sweating.

“Well, I’m sure Doyeon didn’t want to worry you.”

At the mention of his future wife, he beams. “You’re right, she’s considerate like that,” and the conversation ends just like that. He holds up his drink to the two of you, and you and Seokjin do the same. With a sharp clink he leaves you two to mull, happily conversing with the next round of guests he needs to entertain for the week.

“That guy is too nice for his own good,” you shake your head, asking the bartender for your third drink within ten minutes.

Seokjin leans over you and warbles, “So you’re telling me that Namjoon has no idea that Doyeon cheated on Jungkook in order to date him?” he’s sweating just like you are, following suit to your actions and asking to make his drink a double.

“I don’t know,” you bite your lip, your teeth worrying the dark skin, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while though. I just don’t want to get involved, you know?”

“But this is different!”

“But Doyeon’s family!”

“And all of a sudden you care about Doyeon’s feelings?” Seokjin gripes back, “it’s not about Doyeon, it’s about the both of them. And if we know something that Namjoon doesn’t, wouldn’t it be in our best interests to warn him before he seals a marriage deal that costs him over a zillion dollars?” he gestures to the extravagant wedding party.

“But we don’t even have any proof that’s the case,” you frown, “Doyeon could have changed—a little, not a lot—since meeting Namjoon, maybe she thinks it’s best to reveal as little as possible.”

Seokjin wonders what kind of family he has. One as chaotic as his takes a lot to stomach, and Seokjin likes to pride himself in his strong appetite. “Fine, let’s just keep a close eye on both of them this week. And if anything remotely fishy happens, we strike.”

“Deal.”

You return to the cabana alone, with a plate of fries for both you and Jungkook. Jungkook is also alone, laying on the lounge chair with his eyes closed. It gives you a chance to ogle your fake-boyfriend a little bit, reveling in the sight of his toned body.

Setting down your plate with a sharp rap of the glass, Jungkook opens one eye. “Hey,” he smiles, drinking in your muted expression, “you okay?”

Damn Jungkook for being able to read you so well. “I think so. It’s nothing, really.”

“Well, will you tell me if it’s something?”

“Yeah, I will.”

“So, I do have something to tell you though.” Jungkook sits up, regarding you wearily. “Can you… stand in front of me?” Confused, you shove a fry in your mouth and walk up to him as directed, your back blocking the entrance as you stand in front of him. “Okay, come closer. Now bend down,” you bend your back 90 degrees, and he presses a hand to your shoulder to stop you, “no, no. With your breasts out, just a little—there! Arch your back. Like you’re doing the Sorority Squat.”

“Excuse me—”

“The music isn’t even that loud,” he mutters to himself, “no one would need to push their boobs in my face to hear me.”

“Jungkook, is someone pressing boobs to your face?”

“Why,” he breaks into a playful grin, “jealous?”

“Not if it’s Aunt Lillian.”

“Unfortunately it wasn’t,” he twiddles with the drawstrings of his shorts. “It was Doyeon.”

Doyeon? She didn’t walk by your cabana all day. Heck, she barely greeted you when you arrived with Jungkook. But when Jungkook’s alone is when she decides to pounce? And with what motive?

“I don’t know,” he’s rambling to himself, “maybe I’m overthinking it. It was only half a second.”

“Jungkook, I have something to tell you,” you say instead, panic in your features.

“Is it something urgent?”

“Well, no but—”

“Then tell me when we get back to the room,” Jungkook easily pulls you onto his lap, and you instantly heat up when you feel your bare butt press against Jungkook’s golden thighs. “Like you said, we’re in Vegas. Let’s have fun while we can.”

“Okay,” you tuck your head between his neck and collarbone, reaching to press a kiss to his smooth jawline.

Relaxing against the plush lounge chair Jungkook feeds you fries while talking about the things he wants to do this week. It’s his first time in Vegas and he wants to make the most of it. He wants to visit all the buffets he sees on Buzzfeed compilations, relax at the pool, maybe catch a show. The thought of spending all week with him and your family is nice, and suddenly you don’t feel so awkward sitting on his lap, and eventually he pulls you between his thighs so you can lay on his chest.

“And between you and me,” he fake whispers against the shell of your ear, as if he’s telling you the biggest secret, “we’re the hottest couple here.”

The next three days leading up to the wedding are relatively uninteresting.

Uninteresting in the best way possible. On Monday you and Jungkook spend time with your little cousins, taking them to The Adventuredome, one of the resort's indoor theme parks. On Tuesday you and Jungkook go shopping at the outlet malls with your parents, blowing hundreds of dollars on cheap Levis that have your luggage bursting with a new wardrobe. In between all of that Seokjin and occasionally Namjoon joins you two in your buffet journey, hitting up the top spots and filling your tummies to the brim with delicious food.

On Wednesday, Jungkook brandishes two gold-foiled tickets in front of you, waving them around like a fan. With one finger, he pushes away your Pokémon battle, “I got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” he announces proudly, “waited in line for an hour.”

You gape, scrambling off of your bed and throwing your Nintendo Switch to the side. “Jungkook,” you marvel, “these are so expensive. How’d you manage to get a show for tonight?”

He shrugs, “Looked around.”

“You’ve been impulse buying a lot this week,” you tease, “like really, you don’t need three pairs of the same ripped jeans.”

“This wasn’t an impulse buy,” he says, “I’ve been looking around for shows. Just managed to pick them up today, so go get dressed for our date.”

Did Jungkook just call it a date? Giddy with excitement you throw the covers off, running into the bathroom to get ready. What a surprise, you didn’t think Jungkook would be into spontaneous things like this.

Seokjin left the bathroom open, so when you walk in the room it is steamy and warm. Your dear cousin is still in the shower, probably waiting for his conditioner to pass three minutes of set-in time.

“What are you getting ready for?” Seokjin asks over the rain shower.

“Kook got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” you chirp happily, looking through your skin care products.

“I wanna come!”

“Nope! Jungkook called it a date.”

“Oh, a date,” Seokjin drawls, putting his head under the water to rinse his hair clean. “Well then, should I vacate the room for tonight?”

“What, no!” you’ve closed the door, so thankfully Jungkook can’t hear you talking about him. “We’re not doing anything. We’re just two friends who are fake-dating going on a date.”

“Sounds like a real date, though,” Seokjin wraps a towel around himself to cover all his important bits before getting out of the shower, bumping elbows with you so he can brush his teeth. “Either way, I’ll be gone tonight. It’s my turn to watch the baby cousins. Don’t have too much fun while I'm in their room watching Despicable Me for the millionth time.”

“We’ll be sure to stop by with some pizza or something,” you tease, a little wiggle in your hips when you vacate the bathroom.

By the time you and Jungkook are ready, you two are dressed impeccably. Jungkook is wearing one of the ripped black jeans he bought on Tuesday, combined with a white button up and black blazer. A classic outfit with a little bit of Jungkook-themed flair. And to Jungkook’s surprise, you’re wearing the dress that he first saw you in, all those years ago. You’ve gained a little weight since college, but you still fill out the little black dress beautifully, the little white bow in the middle adding a simple yet adorable touch. It took a little sleuthing and searching through your old college clothes, but you were determined to find it when Jungkook reminded you how much you love the design.

Clearly from the way Jungkook is currently gaping at you like a bloated fish, he loves it too.

The show is beautiful and colorful, leaving you speechless and in tears by the end of it. Jungkook lets you hold his hand the entire time, feeling a bout of anxiety anytime the acrobats fall gracefully despite the large height.

Overall, it was a wonderful show, paired with your equally enamouring date. It’s getting harder and harder to distinguish what’s fake and what’s real in your heart, and throughout the night you’re sorely reminded that you should tell Jungkook how you feel.

But by the time you get to the room your parents are calling you, asking to get their suit and dresses out of the car so hotel service can do a last minute press and dry clean.

“I’ll be back,” you say to Jungkook, “I need to go get their clothes out of the car. They’re always so forgetful.”

“Want me to come?” he offers, hand shying away from inserting the keycard in.

“No, I’ll only be fifteen minutes, tops.”

“So I guess this is this the part where I get a goodnight kiss?” he asks cheekily, leaning on his heels so his tall frame reaches yours. You don’t hesitate to give a short peck to his pretty pink lips. He pouts at the brevity, “that was too quick.”

“Go inside,” you insist, “the sooner you get ready for bed the sooner I can get ready for bed.”

“Then more kisses?”

“Then more kisses.”

Jungkook breaks into an all-teeth smile, unable to control himself when he dips down and steals a longer, more lingering kiss to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says, mimicking every single teenage rom-com protagonist who’s deeply in love with the popular jock. “Don’t take too long, okay?”

You nod, pushing him inside, “C’mon, if you stopped talking I’d be back by now!”

Once the door closes shut, you let yourself do a little dance in the hallway, wiggling your butt and giving yourself a mini-celebration. You quickly text your group chat that you just came back from the Cirque show.

Jimin: what, a date with your fake date?

Hobi: jeon jungcock? 👀👀

Jimin: whaaaaaattttt. U’ve gotta have sat in his lap at least. 3 times since you’ve started this ting

Hobi: i’ve heard things in college…

Taehyung: u are all gross and i hate u

Taehyung: but so am i bc im very curious

Just as you’re about to send a heated reply, the elevator dings, revealing a pissed off Doyeon. She’s bare-faced, in a fluffy lilac bath robe and matching puff ball slippers. You slip in right beside her, making sure there’s a comfortable amount of space between you two.

“You’re going to the parking garage too?” you ask, eyes lingering on the lit button.

“Yeah,” she’s looking at her phone, a few stray hairs from her mahogany bun falling onto her forehead, “Aunt Lillian left her medication in the car. I don’t know why she has to send me, I’m busy getting married.”

“My parents left their formal clothes in the car,” you shrug, “you know, my parents and Aunt Lillian share the same brain cell. Gotta help them out once in a while.”

The icy silence in the elevator is probably the calmest you and Doyeon have been since you’ve announced your relationship status with Jungkook. You fight the sigh, opting to take out your phone and open some unread messages.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: hurry up, the bed’s cold without u

You: lool, why do u look constipated

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: because i am, hurry up. Im bringing ur switch to the toilet and playing on your profile

You: JEON WAIT YAMPERS AT 5HP GO TO THE POKEMON CENTER U HEATHEN

You tilt your head a centimeter, feeling Doyeon breathing down your neck like Puff the Magic Dragon. You look at her with wide eyes. Her long, slender neck manages to snake its way next to your head, “Can I help you?” you ask amusedly, clutching your phone to your chest.

“Are you two really together?” she asks, batting her lashes. All this week she’s left you alone, and you’ve been wondering when she’s going to make herself known. It’s a little self-absorbed you have to admit, but ever since Namjoon’s ignorance to Doyeon’s previous relationship, you’ve been on edge.

“Of course we are,” you spit back, “I love him.”

And you must be very convincing, because Doyeon’s gaze falters just a fraction. You glare at her, staking your claim. Ever since Jungkook told you the reason Doyeon hates you is because she’s jealous, you’ve started to feel a bit of sympathy for her. Doyeon is beautiful and smart, she has no reason to feel this way. But the brain holds fickle thoughts sometimes, bringing darkness to the mind.

“He loved me first,” she bites back, lifting her chin.

“And why do you care?” you laugh tonelessly. The elevator dings open, and you’re met with the open air and concrete of the parking garage. “He may have loved you first, but he’ll love me last.”

You leave the elevator first, a little pep in your step as you make your way to the rental car to gather your parent’s things. While the words you uttered are white in nature and may not hold any sort of weight to them, it manages to bring Doyeon to her knees, absolutely quaking in the elevator.

You’re tasting revenge, and it’s sweet.

“Okay, you need to leave,” Seokjin pulls away the shot glass from your lips, “I didn’t spend days planning the itinerary for you to mess it up. Bridal party in Doyeon’s suite and the groom’s party in Namjoon’s parents suite.”

“That’s dumb,” you chastise, crossing your arms, “we’re all meeting at the same club at 10. Why can’t we pre-party together?”

“Because it’s tradition!”

“Screw tradition,” you stumble on your heels as you purse your lips at Jungkook, “Kook, when we get married I don’t wanna do a whole boy-and-girl party. We’re equals, right?”

“Of course, baby,” he cooes, being careful not to smudge your makeup when he presses his lips to the crown of your head. “But for the sake of Seokjin’s sanity, you should probably go to Doyeon’s. It’ll only be an hour or two.”

You gasp exaggeratedly at the blatant betrayal. He only grins cheekily in response, dipping down to press a wet kiss to your cheek. “Fine,” you cross your arms, snatching back your drink from Seokjin’s grasp to knock it down.

Leaving the bachelor pre-party pains you considerably. They’re having such a good time joking around the suite, telling each other fun stories and relaxing in chairs as they watch TV. This is your kind of crowd, not to mention that you can peacefully check out Jungkook’s ass in those tight dress pants without any crazy club lights distorting your vision.

From past family party experience you already have a feeling what’s coming for you in the ladies’ suite.

Loud music pours from Doyeon’s suite, and it’s completely unlocked. The bridal party is raving, ten seconds away from being completely drunk and immobile. The lights are being manually shut on and off like some sort of cheap rager, and you have to tell Yoojung to tone it down before you get a seizure.

The stench of acidic drinks and the tang of alcoholic air is palpable, and instead of a shot you opt for a glass of peach champagne to slow you down.

As you walk deeper into the suite, you notice a crowd forming by the balcony. Tapping your cousin Nari on the shoulder, you regard her with a hug and kiss. “What’s going on over there?” you ask, heels not helping you see any better.

Nari’s all blushy and pink, hiccuping as she gestures to the balcony. “Her maid of honor got Doyeon a very special gift!”

Managing to weave through the women blocking your view, you fight the urge to gag when you have a clear view of the scene in front of you.

You really don’t understand the purpose of bachelor and bachelorette parties. “One night to be single all over again!” they all say, even though they’re not actually single? Like why does the couple suddenly get one night of forgiveness when you’ve already spent years being in a committed relationship?

Why is it okay that Doyeon’s dry humping a stripper on the balcony? Her white silk dress is ruched dangerously high, soon close to flashing her family. Aunties and friends and the like are cheering her on, and she flips her head perfectly to all the phones shoved in their faces, making sure to get the perfect angle.

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back in the hopes that your other family members would be willing to have a good old-fashioned tip back with you.

You squeal when your hands accidentally land on a bare, oiled chest. You look up, mortified at the large man covered in black harnesses. “Hey babe, I’m Wonho,” he says, faking a sultry gaze as he looks at you up and down, “you’re part of the bridal party too? Wanna dance?”

Feeling naked, you push past him, careful not to get anything on your dress. Wonho? Wonno.

Jungkook loves your family.

(Except Doyeon.)

As much as he told you not to worry about him, and he’ll be completely fine when he meets your family, he couldn’t help be a little wary on the flight over. After all, it’s been two years and he didn’t know how things would be different.

Chaoticism and all, your family is a thing to be cherished. Even though Yoongi has been on mood swings that make Jungkook question his sanity from time to time, and Seokjin is secretly breathing down Jungkook’s back every time he so glances at you, he thinks things are right where they should be.

But despite all that they regarded him with familiarity, hugged and kissed him like old friends, something is different. They’ve turned over a new page for him. They don’t bring up Doyeon. They ask about his family, his job, his life in the city. They ask about how you and Jungkook met, and how happy they are for you. How happy they are for him.

Oh, how he wishes everything could be different. In another world, you two would already be together.

He wasn’t lying back at the cabana when he said you two are the hottest couple at the resort, including the bridal party (but don’t tell Namjoon). You look absolutely stunning in your sparkly red dress, accentuating all the right parts and lighting up the whole room.

When he finds you in the club you’re sitting down with your Aunties, keeping the elders company while the younger ones are flagging down the bartenders. He thinks it’s cute, how well you fit in between them, coddling you like you’re still a child in their eyes.

“Dear, your boyfriend is here!” your one Aunt yells over the loud EDM.

You lift your head up quickly, giving him the prettiest smile. Your teeth glow purple under the neon lights, and he fights the urge to laugh when he holds out a hand. “Mind if I steal her from you?”

“Of course, she’s gotta live a little!”

You pout, a little wobbly but nevertheless still in the right mind as you shuffle out of the booth to meet his awaiting arms. “Hey handsome,” your voice is thick and sweet-smelling, “come here often?”

“Only when my girlfriend does,” he replies cheekily, hands immediately coming to your butt to smooth out your dress. He shys a bit when your Aunties hoot and holler at his public display of affection, but all he wants to do was pull the hem down a little bit. No way is he going to let anyone get a flash of your goods.

“Let’s dance!” you take your hand in his, leading him to a comfortable corner of the dance floor.

Clubs aren’t really your scene, aligning with Jungkook’s sentiments towards the loud generic music and terrible smell. But you’re in Vegas, and he feels that it’s all part of the package to experience the nightlife at least once. He puts his hands on your waist and you giggle like you’re in prom, hands coming to rest on the collar of his button down.

“Hey,” he says with a lopsided smirk, “wanna make out?”

“Sure,” he notices that you don’t even check if anyone’s seeing, and it makes his heart flutter when you don’t hesitate to get on your tiptoes to meet him halfway.

He’s always hoped for a moment like this, a moment where the room stops spinning and both your minds click into place. It’s almost comical, how he distinctly notes that the music fades once his lips touch yours. The kiss is hot, yet intimate. Even though he makes excuses to kiss you all the time because of practice, it goes to show that you two definitely never needed it. Your tiny hands grip the collar of his button down, bringing you two impossibly close despite the hot air. His larger hands grip at the strings that hold your measly dress together, grappling at any excuse to get to your soft skin. The two of you are a natural when it comes to each other’s intimacy.

The two of you pull away, mesmerized. You haven’t kissed like that before. He melts under your stare, his thumb reaching to nick off any lip gloss that’s moved in the process.

Seokjin comes down the floor to haul you both by the shoulders, “C’mon lovebirds, they’re taking wedding shots!”

The two of you follow your cousin to the crowd of people that is your family, already with their own drinks in hand. Doyeon and Namjoon are sitting atop the bar, making a very loud toast that consisted of a quick “thank you!” and “we love you!” before downing their drinks with their arms linked together. The room is thrumming with excitement for tomorrow’s festivities, and surprisingly, you and Jungkook included. He tucks himself in your body like a puzzle piece, hugging you from behind while he watches Namjoon’s eyes sparkle with love under the neons.

The nightclub gets a little blurry after that, with the copious amounts of alcohol and shameless actions from your family and friends. By the time it’s twelve Jungkook notices you swaying at a rate that you can’t handle. He knows your limits and knows when you have to urge to pee every five minutes, it’s time to go. With a chaste kiss you leave him at the bar, deciding to make a pitstop to the bathroom before telling Jungkook you want to head up.

You’re locked in a stall when you hear Yoojung’s voice.

“Ugh,” she groans, voice echoing through the tiny room. “Jungkook is so sexy. Do you see the way he’s dancing out there? He’s a literal babe magnet, I can’t believe he ended up with someone like y/n.”

You don’t move a muscle, pressing your ear against the door that hides you. The silly slander isn’t news to you, Doyeon has been feeding her friends all sorts of bullcrap so they wouldn’t bother talking to you.

“Yeah, Jungkook’s a real treat but he dated Doyeon first. Sounds like she’s into sloppy seconds,” Elly replies, another bridesmaid you’ve met in passing. “But I don’t know, they do look happy together.”

“Please, I’m sure Jungkook’s just using her so he can get one more chance at Doyeon before she ties the knot,” you bristle, the thought of Jungkook still having feelings for Doyeon makes your heart thud painfully against your chest, “like, what a downgrade. Namjoon and Doyeon do not deserve this drama. If Jungkook ever liked Doyeon at all, he wouldn’t have come. Period.”

You slam the door open, causing Elly to squeal and Yoojung’s YSL lipstick to fall onto the sink. You’re the epitome of relaxation, walking towards the sink to wash your hands. The bridesmaids simply stare at you, unable to formulate a comeback. When you finally dry your hands, you say your next words.

“Jungkook is here because he loves me,” an act act act. This is all an act. You shouldn’t be this offended because you know it’s all false. “And you’re wrong. It’s not Jungkook that doesn’t deserve Doyeon. Jungkook was too good for Doyeon.”

And you slam your heels against the tile, stilettos pounding to the beat of the music. Your exit is full of anger and frustration as you ignore the burn in your step and the ache in your heart, flagging the first bartender you see to get you a double.

Shot for shot, that anger soon melts into guilt as Yoojung’s words sink in. The thought of Jungkook using you to get to Doyeon is terrible, you can barely stomach the thought. But that’s exactly what you’re doing, right? You’re using Jungkook to get back at Doyeon.

Why did you even want to get back at Doyeon anymore? Why do you have to prove anything to her? If she just continues to push you around, isn’t that more on her than it is on you?

Jungkook soon finds you after you’ve nursed a few drinks, leaning unceremoniously against a barstool. His eyes widen at your state, and he immediately sheds his jacket to wrap it around your waist.

“Why did you drink so much?” he chastises, “it’s the night before the wedding.”

“Jungkookie,” you warble, clutching your stomach, “I don’t feel so good.”

He sighs, bending down. “Get on my back. Make sure the jacket covers you up, okay?”

He doesn’t even grunt when you put all your weight on him, feeling like a ragdoll as he hoists you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting him carry you to your room. Most of the older family already went upstairs to sleep, so none of your cousins could care less when they see you get hauled away by Jungkook.

You inhale, he smells like sweat and cologne. “I like putting my head between your neck,” you babble, and you feel Jungkook chuckle through his chest, “you smell so nice there. It’s the bestset! Comfiest place ever, ‘specially when m’sleepy.”

“Are you sleepy now, baby?” You love how smooth the petname falls from his lips.

“I will be when we get upstairs,” you reply, happy to see the elevator is empty. “I’m just all up in my head.”

“Is that why you were drinking so much? You said you were gonna stop earlier.”

“Yeah, but,” you shamefully tuck your head in his shoulder, “I was frustrated.”

“Frustrated? At who?” concern laces his tone as he struggles to hold you with one hand and fumble for his key in the other. You tighten your legs around his slim waist until the door clicks open, and he immediately walks over to your bed to plop you down. “Babe, are you crying?” he finally has a good look at your face, horrified to see the streaks of tears mixed with mascara running down your face.

“I wa-was jealous,” you confess tearily, clutching your face in your hands, “some girls in the bathroom were calling you sexy and that you were only here so you could try to win over Doyeon. I know it sounds ridiculous and you would never do that but. The thought of you getting back with her makes me so jealous and I hate it! I’m starting to feel so guilty about this, all of this. I put all of this on ourselves and I’m ruining it.”

“Ruining what? You’re not making any sense.” Jungkook places a hand on your knee, crouching down so he can look up at you.

“I’m ruining us,” you gush despondently, “I’m ruining any potential of us before we even start.”

Jungkook freezes, hand clutching your knee like a lifeline. The potential of you two together? You’ve thought of that? Jungkook didn’t drink much tonight, so his mind is definitely running on all cogs.

Coming to a conclusion, he rubs slow, soothing circles on your knee, his other hand reaching up to wipe the tears from your face. “You’re not ruining anything,” he declares firmly, “that’s impossible. I may have agreed to fake-date you because of Doyeon, but I stayed because of you.”

His heart aches seeing you so upset, and he decides to take initiative to get you out of your clothing and ready for bed. You don’t have any words, opting to let Jungkook take care of you as you try to calm yourself down. He finds a spare t-shirt, a long one so you’ll be comfortable. He doesn’t bat an eye when he unzips your dress, in favor of balling up the shirt and getting you clothed as fast as possible. He rifles through the bathroom to find your makeup wipes, and he’s gentle when he scrubs up the once pretty makeup you spent half an hour doing. Barefaced and fresh, you look sleepy and ready to crash.

But before Jungkook can tuck you in, you clutch his arm.

“Jungkook,” you murmur sleepily, “I think I lo—”

“I know, baby,” he doesn’t want a confession like this, and he’s sure you wouldn’t want it either. You still look a little green and you’re not sober, so he makes the executive decision to pin these feelings for later. “I’m not trying to invalidate you, I promise. I want you to tell me this, all of this in the morning. We’ll talk then.”

“Okay,” you melt in the sheets, pulling the blankets up to your chest. When you see Jungkook move away from the bed, you jolt, “Where are you going?”

Jungkook smiles, reaching over to tuck you back in, “I left my blazer in Namjoon’s room. I’ll be right back, okay?”

He walks out of your room as quietly as he can, making sure to close the door slowly. Once it’s sealed shut, he leaps up, giving himself a silent cheer as he bounds down the hall. You like him back!

The smile on his face is tired but full of fervor as he makes his way to Namjoon and Doyeon’s suite. He doesn’t even care that he probably has to talk to Doyeon to get his jacket back, thoughts filled with the excitement of his requited feelings and going back to his room to cuddle up with you.

He doesn’t even have to knock when the large double doors swing open. Dumbfounded, he looks down at Doyeon, wearing a tiny black nightie and dangling his jacket with one finger. It’s an outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination, and he feels his neck heat up at the feeling he’s encroaching on an intimate moment.

“You left this,” she says slowly, a tiny smirk on her lips.

“Uh, thanks,” he says, making sure not to touch her when he grabs his blazer.

In her other hand she holds up her room’s designated ice bucket. “Could you also get me some ice, please? Namjoon’s fast asleep and I really don’t want to walk out all… exposed.”

He swallows his sigh, knowing it’s going to take significantly longer to get back to you when Doyeon drawls like this. “Of course,” he replies tersely, “after all, you are the bride.”

“Thanks, Jungkookie.”

He makes quick work of getting Doyeon the ice, pumping his long legs down the hall. The ice room is cold and cramped, barely enough for his tall frame to fit in. He jabs the container in the holder, pressing the button ten times per second to get as much ice out as possible.

As soon as he turns around with the ice, he drops the whole bucket.

Like glass, it shatters onto the ground, hundreds of little clear pebbles skimming across the floor like marbles. Doyeon’s pushing Jungkook against the ice machine, freshly manicured hands splayed across his chest. Her body is flush against his, making sure that he feels all of her with her thin silk gown.

“What the fuck, Doyeon get off of me!” a little part of him hopes she’ll come to her senses on her own so he doesn’t have to put his hands on her.

“C’mon, Kookie,” her voice is a sickly candy sweet, her eyes wide with hunger as she takes in his form, “just one more night, you and me. Like old times. One more night before I tie the knot.”

“You’re crazy,” he balks, running his hand through his hair, “this is sexual harassment, do you know that?”

“You don’t mean that, Kookie,” Doyeon dips a red-tipped nail down his chest, “why settle for someone like y/n when I’m right here?”

He grabs her wrists, firm. She winces at the contact, but doesn’t say anything when Jungkook delivers her a scary glare. It gets her quiet, fearful of this version of Jungkook. Doyeon’s never seen Jungkook like this before, so unwilling to bend at her whim and emanating all his power against her.

“Why settle for your cousin?” he whispers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “because, I love her.”

Her lip curls in disgust, nails digging into the palm of his hand. “But you loved me first.”

“And I’ll love her last,” he spits pack, letting go of her. His anger splits for a brief second, regarding Doyeon with sorrow, “this is low, even for you.”

Jungkook pushes past the ice, wobbling out of the ice room. He doesn’t look back, he just knows that he needs you right now. He needs to tell you everything, figure out a plan to cancel the wedding or something.

But when he crashes inside the room, you’re dead asleep. He can’t find the courage to wake up Seokjin as well, who returned and is sleeping in his club outfit. He groans, feeling useless as he stares at the two of you, ignorant of what just conspired ten minutes ago.

And Namjoon, what is he going to tell Namjoon? Poor guy doesn’t deserve any of this.

Walking up to your side of the bed, he tucks your loose hair behind your ear. You look so peaceful now, so beautiful.

It’s just going to have to wait until the morning.

The morning of the wedding, you wake up alone.

The first thought that runs through your head is that Jungkook has rejected you. The little, insecure bug that will never go away in your brain fills you with rash thoughts. He’s on a flight half way back home and he regrets this whole week.

But after that exaggeration, you notice two aspirin and a bottle of water on your nightstand, along with your phone that’s fully charged.

You pull up the screen to check the dozens of messages that flood your app.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: morning babe, im sorry i had to leave early. Namjoon showed up at our door freaking out that his suit is the wrong fit and shade. Now im running around vegas trying to find a replacement that doesn’t look like an elvis presley extra

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: but i didn’t forget what you said last night, i promise! Just go get ready and i’ll meet u at the chapel outside the resort.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: i also have something to say to you

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: wow i didn’t realize how ominous that sounds. Dw, everything will be fine

When someone tells you something will be fine, it’s a universal agreement that no, things will not be fine.

So you get dressed, and put on your makeup mindlessly. You don’t really know what to make of Jungkook’s cryptic message, but you decide to leave those thoughts in the back of your mind as you go to the other rooms to help your family get ready.

Seokjin is busy tying the ring bearer’s tie, looking handsome with his slicked back hair and polished grey suit. “Morning, cousin,” he sing-songs, “you look beautiful today!”

You smooth out your dress, a cascading silver number with starry sparkles. You feel like you’re living out your magical girl fantasies, wrapped up in layers of tulle and a sparkly sweetheart bodice.

“Right back at you. Say, you didn’t see Jungkook this morning, did you?”

“No, but I heard he’s with Namjoon hunting for a new suit. Why?”

“Nothing,” you lean against the guest table, “he just said something really ominous over text.”

“I will never get a peaceful day so long as I’m in this family,” he says this directly to the ring bearer, a toddler who’s obviously confused at his uncle’s weird sayings.

Your phone beeps conveniently, displaying Jungkook’s name.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: just got his suit. We’ll be there in fifteen. Meet me at the garden behind the chapel, please. It’s urgent

Now you’re just worried. So you tell Seokjin your sentiments, and that he should have his phone on hand in case you needed him. With a confused nod, you leave him to go down to the garden.

The groomsmen and bridesmaids are already at the chapel taking pictures. Only the wedding party is really allowed at this time, but you manage your way through the gardens virtually undetected. Jungkook’s already waiting for you, hiding under a white gazebo overlooking the hotel’s fountain.

He looks gorgeous in his all black pinstripe suit, hair pushed back and pants fitted perfectly around his waist and thighs. When he sees you he gets up, full of skittish energy. You note that his hair isn’t even styled, only washed and curling slightly at the ends, as if he’s in a rush.

“W-wow,” he marvels when you rush up to him, “you look gorgeous.”

You drop the handful of silver tulle, letting it fall to the floor. “Jungkook,” you clasp his hand in both of his, guilt flooding your eyes. You’ve been thinking about this all morning, and you need to cut to the chase. Jungkook tries to open his mouth but you silence him with a finger on his lips. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I know this sounds really stupid and you probably don’t want anything to do with me after this, but I shouldn’t have made this elaborate scheme,” you bite your lip, feeling even more antsy as Jungkook squirms in his grip. He however, is trying very hard to focus with his eyes, confused at your sudden confession. “I like you, Jungkook. I don’t want to parade you around like a revenge plot anymore, it isn’t fair and it’s wrong in so many ways—”

“That’s great,” he says simply, brown eyes swirling with thoughts, “um, ditto. But—”

“Wow,” you frown, “I pour my heart out to you and this is what I get?”

“It’s great that you want to be selfless right now,” Jungkook takes your hand, firm and tight, “but without this elaborate scheme, we wouldn’t be saving asses like we are right now.”

“What are you talking about?” You thought Jungkook rushed you down here so you could talk about each other’s feelings before the wedding.

“Doyeon just threw herself on me last night. I got her ice and she took that as an invitation to seduce me like an episode of Sex and the City. Namjoon needs to divorce her, like yesterday.”

Your face then morphs into something dark and ugly, and you fling your whole confession out the window. The thought of Doyeon going as far as throwing herself on Jungkook as a last ditch attempt to get back at you, has you seeing blood red. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner!”

“You were asleep!” he shoots back, putting his hands on your shoulders. He rubs warm strokes up and down your bare arms, “please relax. You’re shaking.”

“And why didn’t you tell Namjoon when you were driving around all morning?”

“I tried to!” he retorts, hands swinging in the air. You huff when his hands land back on your shoulders, preventing you from running to the chapel to extract Doyeon out yourself, “but he just kept talking shit about how much he loves Doyeon and he can’t imagine being together with anyone but her and I felt so bad! I’m sorry I chickened out. I really don’t wanna be the one to break Namjoon’s heart. I’m just the plus one!”

You pinch your brows, mulling it over. “Fuck it, let’s crash a wedding,” you declare, “where’s Namjoon and how can we get him alone?”

Jungkook exhales, a hand carding up to loosen his thin silver tie. “He’s taking pictures with the groomsmen right now. It’s gonna be awhile before we get a chance to talk.”

“Fuck,” you curse, sitting down on the white bench. Jungkook presses soothing circles on your back. “We have no choice, we have to get to him before the ceremony starts.”

“You’ll have to get through me, first.”

Doyeon’s not even in her wedding dress when she strides up to the two of you. She’s in ballet flats with her hair and makeup done, but the only thing she’s wearing is the thin underdress of her actual ball gown, a simple silk negligee that reaches her ankles. You don’t even know how she’s managed to escape the bridal party, especially without her dress.

Feeling protective, you step in front of Jungkook. “Before you say anything,” you murmur, “I’m not ruining your wedding, and I never wanted to. You’re ruining it because of your mistakes.”

“Oh, boo-hoo,” Doyeon rolls her eyes, playing with her nails, “I didn’t even do anything wrong, everyone knows that on the bachelorette’s night she can do whatever she wants. Namjoon could’ve fucked whoever too if he wasn’t so faithful.”

“Namjoon is ten times the partner you are and would never do that,” You’re seeing red, unable to comprehend the complete garbage spilling from Doyeon’s lips. “You touched my boyfriend without his consent, and I will never forgive you for that,” your voice is scarlet, angry and thin.

“It’s not like he isn’t used to it, I—”

“NO!” the sound that comes out of your mouth has all three of you flinching, and you’re thankful the gazebo is far enough so that the rest of the wedding party is oblivious to your actions. “You’re not allowed to justify yourself anymore, Doyeon. What you did was fucked up, what you’ve done to all of us is fucked up!” You realize now that you didn’t need to get back at Doyeon with a fake date, what you needed was this. You needed a reprieve, a chance to lay down your law. “Jungkook was right all along. You are jealous. You’re jealous and selfish and have no shame. You think you own whatever you set your eyes on, but you’re wrong. We’re not objects, we’re people.”

You walk up to Doyeon, eye to eye. You jab a hand at her chest, pushing her back slightly. You soak up your cousin’s expression, and you watch as Doyeon’s eyes pop out in surprise at your act of boldness. “So you have a choice here. You can either swallow your pride and leave Namjoon at the aisle quietly and save whatever dignity you have left. Take your pathetic ass on the next flight back home and pack up your apartment. Or, we can start a big scene at your ceremony,” you probably look manic, filled with freshly injected power, “I know Seokin’s always wanted to yell ‘I object!’ at a wedding.”

“You have no proof,” Doyeon glares right back, taking a step closer to you. Your noses are practically touching, but you dig your heels in the white-stained wood, puffing up your chest and standing your ground.

“Doesn’t matter,” you bite back, “what matters is that Namjoon will doubt you. Namjoon knows we’d never do anything to sabotage a wedding without a valid reason. Even if you do get married tonight, we have Jungkook’s word and proof of a relationship that overlaps with his. I find this option to be far worse because it’s prolonging the inevitable,” you shrug, “I hope you two didn’t sign a prenup.”

Hot, angry tears mess up her meticulously done makeup. Black rivers carve through her porcelain skin, showing the feelings that have been dormant since been hidden under a facade. Doyeon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. She’s practically vibrating in combined fear and rage, seeing blurry images and memories and regrets of what could’ve been if not for her self-absorption. And finally, your cousin comes to a decision.

“I hate you,” she emphasizes each word with the most concentrated of venoms in her tone. WIth one last look at the two of you, she stomps away. Instead of going to the direction of the chapel however, she takes the shortcut back to the hotel.

Her grave words are unsurprising, but nevertheless disappointing. A thinly veiled smile grazes your lips, sadder than ever as you watch your cousin go. “And I pity you.”

As soon as she’s gone Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hugging you tightly as you fight the urge to cry again. “Oh babe, that was really hot. The way you stood your ground? That was amazing!” Jungkook takes out his silver pocket square to wipe the stray tears that threaten to ruin your makeup. “You’re so strong, don’t you know that? You did it and I’m so proud of you.”

As much as you want to revel in the affection, go back and bed and fall asleep until noon, you can’t. Grasping Jungkook by the hand, you tug him to the chapel. “C’mon,” you say, “we have to corner Namjoon.”

The groomsmen photos are done by the time you get there. Thankfully, the to-be-groom doesn’t look too occupied. His eyes widen upon seeing you two stumble from the garden of all places.

“Oh, y/n. Jungkook,” Namjoon tilts his head curiously at how winded you two look, equally flushed and out of breath. From your state, Namjoon muses that it must've taken a lot of effort to finally get to the groom unattended, save for a few random family members he’s making small talk with, “The wedding isn’t for another hour but I must say, you two look radiant together. Doyeon always thought you’d end up an old spinster-catlady, but I always told her that you’re too beautiful to be single for long,” he pauses to send the aforementioned man a wink, “Jungkook’s a lucky guy. What were you two doing back there?”

“Uh, things?” Jungkook scratches the back of his head, not wanting to reiterate the fiasco between Doyeon moments before.

Namjoon smirks at the ebony-haired man, “Couple things?”

You can’t take this needless small talk anymore. With a teary groan, you throw yourself at Namjoon. You hug him tight, and you don’t even care when you feel a slosh of his water bottle sprinkle your hairstyle.

“Joonie,” you bemoan, “please, please don’t leave me. You’re the best not-cousin ever. I know it’ll be a pain to face Doyeon after today but you’re a strong independent man and when you’re ready Jin is single and ready to mingle—ow! Jungkook! Did you just pinch my ass?”

“Do you really think setting him up with the next cousin is the best idea right now?”

“I figured a little humor would lighten the blow,” you sulk.

“I’m sorry what—what blow?” Namjoon frowns, pushing you away from him. “Y/n, have you been crying?”

The tears resurface at that moment, like a kettle on overboil. Namjoon’s face is knitted together, unable to grasp at any conclusion. Namjoon feels something grave is upon the sky as he tenderly brushes away your tears with his thumbs before releasing you. Instantly Jungkook pulls you to his chest, patting you soothingly. As much as you two do not want to be the bearer of bad news, the time is now.

“Namjoon,” Jungkook says, finding the strength that was previously stuck in his throat, “we have to tell you something.”

Needless to say, Las Vegas is very forgiving when it comes to last minute wedding cancellations.

The whole wedding party, both Namjoon and yours, collectively feels like a whole ice bucket has been dumped upon your families. You would like to say that the whole issue was handled mess free, but that would be a bald-faced lie.

There was screaming, crying, hysterical laughter from all sides. Doyeon’s parents were of course furious, embarrassed, unable to calm down a hysterical Doyeon as they haul her on the next flight home. You have a feeling they won’t be showing up to family events anytime soon.

Namjoon’s family leaves quietly, frustrated, but classy. After all, they know at the back of their heads they dodged a bullet. Everyone leaves except Namjoon however, who isn’t quite ready to go back to his and Doyeon’s apartment. Namjoon invites Seokjin and some other close cousins to stay in his suite until their flight tomorrow afternoon, wanting to be surrounded by close friends and (almost) family.

As for your family, they decide to find the silver lining. While the chapel was able to cancel the wedding, the reception wasn’t as easy to sway. At the very last second, your grandparents decided to make use of the reception and renew their Golden Anniversary vows instead. The ceremony will be a quick, sweet affair. At this very moment, your cousin Yoongi is getting officiated online.

And for you? You’re in the place where you’ve wanted to remain all week. A fluffy hotel bed wrapped up with your not-boyfriend.

Or?

Would a not-boyfriend be snuggling against your chest like you’re the softest teddy bear in the toy shop? Would a not-boyfriend be hooking your leg atop his lap, forcing you to latch onto him so his hands can roam freely against your soft thighs?

“We have to get ready for the wedding,” you whine against his hold, to no avail when he only holds you tighter.

“But your grandparents are already married,” Jungkook whines right back, nuzzling his nose in your head. “This is like an afterparty fifty years later.”

“I wanna get dressed,” you insist, pushing yourself up, “and we still need to talk.”

Without Seokjin staying with you, the hotel room feels much bigger and freer for the two of you. Your clothes are scattered on the floor, uncaring of any wrinkles or smears that would get on the delicate fabric.

All that matters is that Jungkook is still here with you. Doyeon’s wedding is called off, but he’s still lying in bed with you. You want to burn this image to memory, and keep it forever. Jungkook laying in only his white undershirt and boxers, looking at you dreamily as if he’s still in nap-mode. Hair that was previously windswept and exposing his forehead is now out of place, fluffy and sticking out in all directions. His cheeks are flushed with coral-colored warmth, and a little puffy because you two have been sleeping most of the afternoon.

“Right, talk,” he repeats, letting you hand him his black button up so he can clothe himself.

You throw off your shirt somewhere behind you, not wanting to face him as you walk to the full-length mirror. “So, I think my feelings for you are pretty clear and out in the open…”

“Same, I think I made it pretty clear as well.”

“What? You turn around, looking at where he’s still half-covered in bed. “You did not. I distinctly remember almost confessing my love to you last night. And then this morning, only for you to cut me off and say ‘that’s great’.”

“Oh,” he stares at the white sheets that cover his lower half. “I guess I didn’t then.”

You smile wryly, turning back to face the mirror so you can slip into your dress that’s been pooled around your ankles like a silver halo. “Maybe you thought it in your mind and forgot to tell me.”

That seems about right. Jungkook has a tendency to be a little too passionate for his own good, windswept in thoughts and feelings until they consume him. He hops out of bed, walking only in his dress shirt and socks as he makes his way to the mirror. “Then let me do all the talking,” he says softly against your neck, hands on your hips.

You shiver when you feel the cold silver of the zipper whirr up your body, Jungkook’s large hands splaying across your back to smooth out the waistline.

“You of all people would know that being with Doyeon is a trip,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck, “I thought that was what love felt like. Being codependent, jumping through hurdles, trying so hard to please someone who can’t be pleased.”

Jungkook’s hands wrap around your waist, hugging you tightly. He squeezes you and holds you like the most precious thing in the entire world. Through the mirror, you two are quite a pair.

“But with you, I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

“So… are you saying you love me?” you fight the urge to bounce around in his grip, the biggest smile on your face.

“You really just want me to say ‘I love you’ and be done with it, huh?”

Within seconds he’s pulling you from behind, whirling you around to the edge of the bed. He manages to flouce up your skirts to billow around his lap, sitting you down on his bare thighs.

“You look like a cupcake, all sprawled up like this,” Jungkook says cutely, peppering kisses in a trail from your chest all the way to your lips. “You look like a huge, silvery cupcake and I love you. It’s so easy to love you.”

Maybe it was kismet that Jungkook didn’t get to you first all those years ago. Maybe the right time is right here, right now.

“I love you, too,” you say happily, dipping down to press a long, passionate kiss to his lips. He tastes like love and a happy future. When you pull away, you encapsulate his face in both your palms, regarding him like the sun and stars. “But you know, if we date you’ll never get away from my crazy family.”

Jungkook snorts, pressing his forehead to yours, “And miss Yoongi re-marrying off your grandparents tonight, the next year of Seokjin and Namjoon running circles around each other, and a lifetime of happiness?” his hands snake under your dress, finding purchase in your soft skin, “not a chance.”

#jungkook x reader #gcn23 #goldenclosetnet #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst

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berabeko · 4 years

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Piece for Week 2 of @kakairu-fest

- Iruka: teacher or office worker, has big project/studying for promotion and is pulling overtime - Kakashi: Runs a nondescript coffee shop for JUST coffee, ‘no I won't have any of that sweets nonsense Asuma get out of here, get your carbs elsewhere Gai’

Also wrote a longer than intended brain dump on it that’s half bullet point and half word vomit if anyone wants to read. :)

Kakairu Modern Coffeeshop AU

- Iruka's probably had too much coffee already today but he needs to pull an all nighter and work through the weekend to complete his project and his eyes are so heavy and hello is that coffee he smells from this shop that he'd always thought was out of business. - Tries to open the door but how come it doesn't open? Oh is it one he has to pull open? Literally makes no sense, all shop doors should be push to open. Stupid door designs keeping him from his coffee. But no, the door just isn't opening. He's been at this for a solid 2 minutes when the door finally opens and he stumbles into a wall. What kind of cruel joke is this building playing on him? Can't a man just a get a cup of coffee? Iruka's almost in tears at this point. - Hey mister, you should head home if you're drunk says a voice. - M'not drunk, need coffeeeeeee, Iruka slurs out and blacks out.

If anyone asked how Kakashi's able to open late at night, well, Kakashi's night and day were opposite the average person. Partially out of habit from his covert ops days when he operated mostly at night, but really it was a convenient reason to run his shop with minimal run ins with people. He'd enough money from his old life so he wasn't running his shop for profit. He opened late at night when the few regulars keeping odd jobs would stop by for a quick cup to go before their night shifts. Even then he only kept the store open for a few hours before he closed to spend the majority of his day going on long leisurely walks with his 8 dogs stopping more often than not under a shady tree to read his weekly rotation of Icha Icha books. Sleep? He catched a few hours here and there but not a big fan of it.

Just as Kakashi was pouring himself a cup, he hears the door rattle. He'd just let it go expecting them to take the hint that he's closed and move on. But the door keeps rattling for another solid minute and he hears and unintelligible moan from the other side. A pause. "Pakkun, have zombies finally hit the streets?" Pakkun looks back with an unamused expression. With a sigh and opens the door only to have a man stumble head first into his chest. If there was one downside to working so late at night was dealing with the occasional drunks. Gotta say it's the first time they've been this bad though.

[So Kakashi brings the young man in and seats him. Pours him a fresh cup of coffee.]

Iruka perks up as he hears the clunk of the mug being placed in front of him. Kakashi watches as the disheveled man twitches and fingers crawl up the edge of the counter and search for the mug.

"Zombie Pakkun, zombie," Kakashi hisses out of the corner of his mouth.

Iruka finally wraps his hands around the mug and manages to raise his head off the counter just enough to take a slow sip. The man's eyes remain closed and Kakashi observes as the man's face goes slack and once again drops his head to the counter.

He thinks about reaching for the broom to maybe give the guy a poke, but he hears a guttural moan that raises the hair on his arms for entirely different reasons than fear.

Kakashi glances over at Pakkun only to see him chewing on one of his Icha Icha books. He lets out an entirely undignified scream he will swear never happened and dives to save his precious book.

Iruka jumps awake at the noise, flailing around thrown off balance in the high seat trying to get his bearings as to where he is because the last thing he remembers is passing by the always closed coffee shop down the street from his home. The scent of coffee instantly zooms his focus to the mug in front of him that somehow miraculously survived Iruka’s spazzing. Iruka latches onto the mug and takes a heaping gulp of the still hot coffee and finally gains some sense of awareness enough to hear hisses and ruffs coming from behind the counter. Standing up from his seat, Iruka leans over to look down and finds a gray haired man involved in a tug-o-war with a pug. Is that Icha Icha they’re fighting over?

Iruka clears his throat hoping to get the man’s attention.

Both the man and dog freeze at the sound. Kakashi takes the opening to finally swipe his book back and tuck it into the pocket of his apron. With a sigh, he stands back up with hands in his pants pockets to face his now more aware customer.

Iruka flushes under the gray haired man’s flat gaze and clears his throat again, “I don’t remember exactly how I got here, but I should probably thank you.” He brings a finger up to scratch at the scar on the bridge of his nose, “I hope I didn’t cause too much trouble.”

Kakashi watches the man squirm in his seat for another few seconds, “Maa, as long as you pay for the coffee.”

“Oh, of course!” Iruka shuffles to find his wallet from his satchel. Kakashi begins cleaning up as he waits. After digging around thoroughly and coming to the realization that he’s misplaced it somewhere, a sense of panic rises in Iruka. Seeing the increasingly distressed man, Kakashi says, “Don’t worry about it.”

“Shit, I-I’m so sorry, I must have dropped my wallet,” Iruka puts his head in his hands, “I’ve been so focused on getting my teaching degree I don’t even know how to function anymore.”

“Woof!”

Kakashi looks down at Pakkun’s bark.

“Your wallet wouldn’t happen to have cute little dolphins on them would it?” Kakashi crouches down.

“How did you know?” a round eyed Iruka looks back up.

“I suppose I should apologize for my dog stealing your wallet and getting his slobber all over it,” Kakashi sheepishly holds out a rather wet wallet with dolphin prints on it.

Iruka takes the wallet and checks inside. His photo with Naruto, his younger brother, is unspoiled, “I guess that makes us even then. My name is Umino Iruka," Iruka chuckles, "Yeah yeah laugh it up.”

'Cute.' “Hatake Kakashi.” 'Oh.' Iruka giggles.

Iruka starts to get up to go: Oh look at the time, I’m sorry you were probably trying to close shop.

Kakashi: Ah, opening actually. I close at 4.

Iruka: Huh, that explains why I’d never seen this place open. I would have definitely visited for a coffee if it had been. Thank you again, I really needed this cup.

Kakashi: You’re welcome to come in anytime after 10 if you ever need coffee late at night.

Iruka: I just might.

Kakashi watches Iruka leave. “Not a zombie at all huh Pakkun?”

#kakairu #kakairu-fest #nine weeks of summer #hatake kakashi #umino iruka #way more ambitious than i'd intended but i got into it #screw you perspective #the most sparse coffee shop because kakashi would go with just the bare mininum #also realized i cannot write flirting as much as i enjoy reading it #my word brain doesn't work that way i guess :(#Fanart

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ttttaehyungie · 4 years

Text

sincerely, but no longer yours | chapter 1

sincerely, but no longer yours | ex!kim namjoon x reader

☘ genre | angst, exes au

☘ summary | It started as a coping mechanism as getting the words out provided a form of catharsis. But now you can’t stop writing these love letters, even with the knowledge that they’ll never get sent. After all, who writes love letters to their ex?

☘ word count | 4k

☘ rating | PG-13

☘ warnings | some fairly heavy angst, breakup

☘ a/n | ok SO I’m finally working on a multi-chap for the first time in forever :o and ofc this is the first series that i’m working on in this blog! alsooo am kinda ashamed to admit that i’ve actually NEVER finished a series ever 🙈🙈 sooo this is a challenge from me @ myself 🤭 so yes come along with me for this ride hahahah and pls kick my butt if i leave this series as another one in the unfinished pile

You can have Manhattan, ‘cause I can’t have you -- Sara Bareilles, Manhattan

Pulling your jacket around you a little tighter to keep the bite of the night air at bay and hitching your duffel bag a little higher up your shoulder, you board the bus. The bus conductor asks for your ticket and you let go of it for the first time since you bought it, giving him the flimsy paper that’s now imprinted with the shape of your thumb under the stress of your tight grip as you held onto it like a lifeline. After a quick inspection, he passes it back to you and you take it from him wordlessly.

“Hey.” You look up at the conductor in surprise, gaze finally torn from where it had remained on the ground all this time. “You alright?”

You don’t allow yourself to consider the question lest the tears come and you cause a bigger scene than you already have. With a tight-lipped smile that probably isn’t fooling anyone, you nod at him, and traipse to the back of the bus before he can probe any further.

The comfort of the back corner of the bus brings you the tiniest smidge of relief, especially after you place your duffel bag on the seat next to you, creating a barrier between you and the rest of the bus. Not that there would be many people, if any at all, at such a late timing. Nonetheless, the little bubble created by your makeshift barricade brings you some security as you settle into your chosen seat gingerly, as if you would shatter to pieces if your movements were too rough. Your emotional state sure feels that way, fragile and on the brink of falling apart any time now.

You’re not sure how much time passes before the bus doors finally shut and it begins pulling out of the bay. It carries a sense of finality. You’re really going home. The cityscape, drenched in the black and orange hues of nightfall, goes past as you watch through the window- slowly at first, then becoming a blur as the vehicle picks up in speed. The plans you had for the weekend are now truncated and left behind with the city.

The emptiness hits you once again when the bus pulls onto the freeway and the city sights are completely gone. Only the inky black of the night sky accompanies you now. You are alone. On this bus, yes, but in more ways than that too. You let that fact sink in.

It’s too dangerous to let your thoughts overtake you right now, so you occupy yourself by playing Sudoku puzzles on your phone, which has strategically been placed on airplane mode. The methodical problem-solving that the puzzle requires of you submerges your mind in a sea of numbers. Which is your intention. And before you know it, the bus is slowing down and you look up from your device to the familiar scenery of your hometown. On any other day, it would fill you with warmth, but right now it doesn’t.

Now having arrived at your destination, you gather your belongings and alight from the bus. It’s just a daypack and your duffel bag which is bursting at the seams with how many items you crammed into it. You would have brought a suitcase if you knew, but how were you to predict the events of tonight? Though, you surmise, you should have seen it coming and could have prepared yourself better.

You’re trudging home and you’re maybe ten minutes away when it begins raining. Great. As if this day could get any worse. It makes your clothes stick to you in that cloying way and the chill from the night has you shivering almost violently now. But you plough on home, only focusing on getting one foot in front of the other and repeat, repeat, repeat.

Finally at your front door, it’s a struggle to get the key in the door with how badly your hand is shaking. Whether it’s from the cold or something else, you’re not sure anymore at this point. After countless tries, you finally manage to jam it in and turn it quickly so you can just get into the safety of your home.

The noise that results from the way you throw your duffel bag and daypack down, your rain-soaked jacket quickly following suit to form a messy, wet heap in the middle of the entryway, announces your arrival. Hoseok pops his head out from the archway that leads to the living room, the sounds probably interrupting his late-night Netflix binge.

“____?” You can hear the concern in his voice, and you refuse to look at him, instead focusing on wrenching your sodden shoes off of your tired feet. “Where’s Joonie?”

The mention of his name causes something like a switch to flip in you. Your brain finally, finally catches up with reality, and the numbness you lulled yourself into for the past few hours dissipates just like the pricking of a balloon. It leaves you gasping in pain, the way the emotions suddenly come flooding through you. The hurt viciously demands to be felt.

With a shaky exhale, you look Hoseok in the eye. The gravity of tonight’s events finally cements itself in your brain and the tears you’d been holding back come spilling out uncontrollably as you mumble your next words out brokenly.

“We broke up.”

It’s been weeks since you and Namjoon broke up. The constant cloud of desolation that plagued your every waking moment in the immediate aftermath of the breakup has finally eased up somewhat.

Being a high school senior turned out to be a lifebuoy in some ways, giving you solid things to cling onto in the midst of your emotions of loss and confusion. It’s not healthy, you know, but the academic content provided a sense of constancy that you sorely needed and the rigor of it all kept your mind from wandering too far into the depths of your sorrow.

Yet you knew this could only go on for so long. At some point, these emotions will eat you up from the inside out if not acknowledged and sorted out. Pain is just like that, it will gnaw at you with subtlety but with certainty. Repressing the feelings is just simply unsustainable.

You’re really lucky to have an older brother like Hoseok. That first night, when you finally broke down and let the tears turn into sobs that wracked through your entire being, he’d quickly gathered you up into his arms and had given you a shoulder to cry on. God knows how long you spent in that state bawling seemingly endlessly, but Hoseok had let you just get it all out without asking any questions, the immensity of his patience and quiet strength of his presence lending you a pillar of support that you desperately needed at the time. Later that night, when you were showered and tucked in warm under the covers, you watched through puffy eyes as he unpacked your belongings from your duffel bag and carefully wiped them dry or chucked them into the laundry basket as was appropriate.

When he reached for your daypack, you stopped him. You were barely able to croak out your opposition, your throat raw and wrecked from the earlier barrage of emotions. Still, Hoseok caught it, and nodded empathetically. He respected your wishes for privacy and only wiped the exterior of your daypack down before leaving it in the corner of your room.

And in the corner it remained. Aside from your absolute necessities, which was really just your keys and your wallet, you’d procrastinated unpacking your daypack. Till now, that is.

Not that there was much to unpack anyway. Most of the possessions you’d retrieved from Namjoon’s dorm room that night had been hastily dumped into your duffel bag in the single-minded mission to get out of there as soon as possible. You know exactly what items remain in the daypack- a bottle of water, a pair of shades, some chapstick, surprise tickets you’d bought online to a movie from that fateful weekend that went unused, and an envelope tucked away safely in the inner pocket of the bag.

The daypack and its contents weighed on your mind the same way it sat in the corner of your room- silent, untouched, yet unbudging. It’s plain silly how afraid you’ve been to confront these items, items that are inanimate and void of meaning apart from what you yourself have ascribed to them. In an attempt to hold off the full brunt of your misery, somehow you’d deluded yourself into thinking that leaving the daypack as it is would preserve things as they once were. You lived in self-denial, as if the breakup had not happened. As if the weekend trip just had not taken place at all, and was waiting to happen instead. The daypack was waiting for you to sling it over your shoulders as you head jovially out the door to the city and to the arms of your boyfriend.

But no. You heave out a sigh. Things have changed. You and Namjoon are no longer together. Holding onto a delusion is ridiculous, and you need to move on. And the first step to doing that is to get rid of this centerpiece that your fantasy revolves around.

The items in the bag get dumped onto the carpeted ground of your room unceremoniously as you unzip the daypack, turn it upside down, and shake out the contents. Whatever mystique you’ve built up around these simple items is now shattered as they lay scattered on the floor. The shades and chapstick return to your dressing table, the bottle of water and expired movie tickets get dumped out. And the envelope… you throw it into your desk drawer and slam it shut before the temptation to tear it open overtakes you.

That was the first of many letters that were written, but never got sent.

You never intended to make it a thing. It just… happened one day. Staying focused on school and college applications could only provide so much distraction from the whirling emotions bottled up inside you. No matter how tightly you attempted to keep a lid on it, wistful nostalgia still crept up uninvited.

And naturally so. This neighborhood, your high school, heck even your own house is filled with the ghost of the memory of him. Namjoon had been a significant presence in your life before he was even really yours. You still remember the day Hoseok brought his newfound friend home, Namjoon’s lips pressed tightly together in his attempts to keep his sniffles and tears in, his knees scraped, bruised, and bleeding from what looked like a pretty hard fall on the playground.

“Mum!” Hoseok had called out. “I need band aids!”

“Hello,” Namjoon mumbled when your mum came hurrying out of the kitchen to see what was wrong. “Sorry to be a bother.”

Namjoon had always been a klutz, but it was his clumsiness that had birthed the close friendship between him and Hoseok. After one too many accidents on the playground, Namjoon had been too scared to go home to face the inevitable reprimanding that would come. Hoseok had offered to patch him up at yours instead, and the camaraderie that arose from that incident had sealed their friendship as an unbreakable one. Unfortunately, as big as Hoseok’s heart was, his little seven-year-old hands were not the gentlest. From your spot at the top of the staircase, peering through the grills, you saw how Namjoon winced at Hoseok dabbing antiseptic on his knees, and you came bounding down the steps to rescue the stranger that sat on your family’s sofa and that had somehow wormed his way into a soft spot in your heart with his teary pout.

“Hoseok,” you demanded, your tiny hand outstretched and waiting, voice tinged with petulance. “Give me.”

Hoseok relinquished the first aid items to you and watched as you cleaned his new friend up, your brow furrowed in careful focus, little hands fumbling but your touch delicate. After you applied the twin band aids on both of Namjoon’s knees with all the meticulousness that a five-year-old could muster up, you patted his thigh and smiled at him.

“All done!” you declared. And you’d never forget the sight of his dimpled smile beaming up at you in response.

If only you could. You shake your head, as if it would shake the memories away. The paper before you on your desk remains as blank as it was twenty minutes ago when you sat down to get started on revision. But having known Namjoon for over a decade made it too easy for you to just get swept away by the deluge of memories of him. You tried to keep it in, but it kept leaking out. And perhaps that’s what you need- to just let it out.

The first touch of the pen to paper has you pausing, wondering how you were even supposed to start. But the moment you begin- Dear Namjoon, - everything comes spilling out in prose. Hardly having to pause what with the way your thoughts just keep flooding out onto the paper, the inked words flowing out in streams, you finally let go of the firm grip you’d kept on your feelings up till now and express your frustration, your loss, your confusion all out in one huge cathartic spew. You write till you feel emotionally dry, but in a satisfying way, chest feeling lighter than it had in weeks. But as your ballpoint pen swirls the complimentary closing- Sincerely Yours- you can’t help but laugh at the sardonic humor embedded in it. The sincerity in your words is irrefutable. But you’re no longer his.

Folding it up and sealing it away in an envelope, you chuck the letter into your desk drawer where it joins its predecessor. Now with a clearer mind, and a renewed focus and vigor, you’re finally able to set to work on the mountain of revision materials that await you.

The first letter was a gushing myriad of feelings. But the subsequent letters solidified into one obviously discernible emotion- anger.

Once you came to terms with the fact that he’s not coming back, and that he basically threw away the relationship, it had you boiling mad. How much had you sacrificed for this relationship?! You’d basically shuttled back and forth between your hometown and the city almost every other weekend to visit him on campus, juggling your family and your grades and your friends back home and college applications just to make your long-distance relationship work. And how did he repay your efforts? By withdrawing from you and refusing to talk things out despite your gentle, persistent probing. You’d heard that he’d been in a slump and confused about the future- Hoseok, while his best friend, was your brother after all- but you’d never imagined he’d be confused about you.

And so you took your rage out on paper once again, your words harsh as you wrote candidly. It’s not like he’d ever get to see it anyway.

But anger is tiring. After penning a few letters full of scathing lines you’d never have the guts to actually spit out in person, your wrath was quelled and soon gave way to grief.

In the same way with your anger, you chose not to deny your sadness, but leaned into it instead. The end of your relationship was something worth mourning, you decided, and you let yourself embrace the sorrow fully and deeply. It was especially difficult knowing that he was still in contact with Hoseok, while you had been completely cut out of his life. But you can’t blame either of them- you can’t demand that they revoke their friendship over what happened between you and Namjoon, nor would you ever desire for that to happen. Hoseok, on his part, managed it to the best he could, taking his phone calls in a room separate from you. But you can’t control the wave of dejection that runs through you whenever you spy Namjoon’s name on his caller ID.

You’re used to the routine by now. Whenever the emotions get too overwhelming, whenever there’s just too much that you want to say to him but that you can’t, you engage in the therapeutic act of writing your letters. Then you seal them up, and chuck them away, out of sight and out of mind. The grief gets easier to deal with too, especially with the excitement of receiving college acceptance letters and your high school graduation date that’s drawing closer and closer.

Of course, that in itself brings its own strand of sadness too, as you imagine having to separate from your friends and family and leave your childhood home behind. But the notion of getting to carve out the path to your future leaves a giddy anticipation that overshadows all other feelings.

And in that strange, paradoxical way that time seems to pass in- every hour ticking by so slowly, but the weeks whizzing by in the blink of an eye- it’s just as your five-year-old self had once proclaimed, “All done!”

Your life now packed into boxes that are piled into the car, one last check of your room to ensure that nothing important is left behind, a final look at the place you called home for all your life up to now, and you’re off to college. As you watch the sight of your neighborhood through the rearview mirror pull further and further away till it disappears entirely, you know you’re leaving tons of memories behind. Memories of Namjoon, yes, but also memories of your growing up years with your family and friends who have made you into who you are today, able to venture out and face the world with courage and confidence.

Maybe it’s that experience of individuation that has you finally accepting it. No more whirlpool of emotions, no more anger, no more grief, no more emptiness. Just peace. You’re single, separated from Namjoon. And you’re ready to take on the world and live your life like the boss woman you are.

“____,” Hoseok wails, pouting as he approaches you with outstretched arms. You barrel into him, relishing the warmth of his embrace and stowing it away for the days ahead. His eyes rove over you as he holds you at arms length so he can take you in for the last time in a while. He sighs. “My baby sister is all grown up and going to college and away from me.”

You laugh. “I’m still in the country, Hoseokie, it’s not like I’m halfway across the world. You can come and visit anytime.”

“But you’ve never lived further than a minute’s walk from my room. How am I supposed to deal with you being hours away from me now?”

“You’ll get over it soon, you big baby.” You duck out under his arms and slap his butt with the playful affection that’s always characterized your sibling relationship. Your parents are waiting by the door of your dorm room and you go over to give them their share of goodbye hugs.

“Thank you for all the help with moving and unpacking today,” you say, voice muffled as you speak into your dad’s chest. He strokes your head and you lean into his touch and savor it.

“You’ve got one more box there, you sure you don’t want our help with that?”

“No, it’s fine, I can handle it.”

It gets increasingly hard to hold the tears back and the difficulty only spikes tenfold when you turn to see your mum holding back tears of her own. Her perfume and her own natural scent that lies underneath that that you inhale as you hide your face in her neck while the two of you hug very nearly pushes you over the brink. But you manage. Knowing your family, it’s a given that someone will shed tears at some point, and you’re all (barely) holding it together for each other.

Hoseok comes up to hug you from behind so that you’re now sandwiched between him and your mum, which only prompts your dad to envelop all of you in his arms too.

“If it ever doesn’t work out- not saying that it won’t, because you’re super smart and the most driven kid I’ve ever known- but just, IF ever,” Hoseok rambles into your hair, “you can always come home and teach at the dance studio with me, ok?”

“Thanks Hoseokie. But you know I have two left feet, so I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

“They’ll make an exception for you. I’ll make them make an exception for you.”

You laugh and extricate yourself from the group hug through a series of wiggles that only provides further proof of why you’ll never make it as a dance instructor the way your brother has.

“Ok, it’s getting late and you guys still have a long drive ahead of you.” You shoo them out of your room. After your final goodbyes, you return to your room quickly, knowing that the sight of their figures leaving would be unbearable.

Needing a distraction, you busy yourself with unpacking your last box of belongings. It’s nothing too difficult- your family had spent the afternoon helping you with the major to-dos like wiping things down and setting up your larger decor and lighting fixtures (read: copious amounts of fairy lights strung everywhere) just the way you liked it. All that remains now are some photos with friends, the few pieces of jewelry you owned, your humble make-up collection... and a shoe box stuffed full of letters that you didn’t dare to leave back at home where it would be at risk of being discovered by prying eyes in your absence.

Finding a place for your various items was a simple task to complete. Within ten minutes you were done unpacking, washed up, and tucked into bed for your first night ever living apart from your family. You roll over onto your side- your sleeping environment may be different, but your side-sleeper habits will never change.

As you peer out the window and take in the campus sights that seem foreign now but that you know will become familiar in time, you’re struck with a funny thought. What a turn of events your life has taken.

This is not the dorm room nor the campus you thought you’d be attending all those months ago when you were making your way down to the city. You’d embarked on that trip in gleeful anticipation at being able to deliver the good news to Namjoon, only to have that trip abruptly cut short, and the news remained in an envelope that never got to its intended recipient.

That weekend triggered a rerouting of your life, setting you on a new path that had brought you here to this campus instead. Not that you regret it, or feel like you settled for something less, not at all. You’re at peace with your decisions. It’s just an intriguing thought that things could have turned out so differently if that one weekend hadn’t happened, is all.

On impulse, you clamber out of bed to retrieve the shoe box that you’d shoved into the corner of your closet. Rifling through the stack- wait, did you really write this many letters?- you finally find the envelope you’re looking for.

Tearing it open gingerly, you pull out the sheets of paper contained within. It’s a rueful kind of feeling that washes over you as you skim over the words that you’d written back in what feels like an entire lifetime ago. The excitement you had felt at the prospect of the long-distance aspect of your relationship finally coming to an end after two long years was blatant in your letter.

But when it became obvious that Namjoon had gotten tired of trying to make things work, what you’d initially thought of as the golden ticket to saving your relationship turned out to be fool’s gold instead. You pull up the second sheet of paper- a photocopy of your acceptance letter to the same college your then boyfriend was attending- and you can’t help the ‘what if’s that fill your mind as you run your thumb over the college emblem.

Guess your dreams of a future where you lived in the city and where Namjoon was still in your life would remain just that- a dream.

Or so your naive college self believed.

#btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #btsbookclub #btswritersguild #ficswithluv #bts fic #bts angst #bts exes au #bts x reader #namjoon fic #namjoon angst #namjoon exes au #namjoon x reader #knj fic #knj angst #knj exes au #knj x reader

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kessielrg · 3 years

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[Kingdom Hearts] The Heart of a Dandelion

Summary: By far, Ven’s got the most boring job at the flower shop; the cashier. Sitting day in and day out for someone to browse along the rows of flowers and gardening tools, then probably walk right out again. Sometimes an interesting thing would happen- but they were few and far between. [flower shop AU focused on UX kids][Part 5 in a series of oneshots][VenxOC][EphemerxOC/F!Player]

Rating: K

Word Count: 1,725 words

If you liked this story, please reblog!

---

“Strelitzia needs a different job.”

Ventus gave a rather annoyed eye up at Elrena. Finals were coming up soon, and he was using this time to study. Of course, Elrena wasn't talking to him, she was talking to Lauriam. The older man was gently spritzing some flowers with a glycerin mixture. Elrena felt the need to lean against the front counter and shout at him from across the store. It was really starting to get on Ven's nerves.

“Why are you telling me this?” Lauriam gently asked as he looked over one flower, gave it a small tilt of his head, before giving its petals two sprays of glycerin. “Strelitzia's shift ended ten minutes ago. If you wanted to tell her this, you could have done it before she left.”

“She wouldn't, and didn't.” Ven retorted as he wrote down a math formula to memorize later. “Strelitzia makes her feel emotions. It scares her.”

“Shut up Roxas.” Elrena demanded as she reached over to slam his book closed. Ven blinked for a moment before looking at Elrena with a rather dark glare.

“You know my name is Ven.” he informed her, opening his book back up.

“See if I care.” came the nasty retort.

“Elrena, don't be rude to Ven just because you're worried.” Lauriam idly noted as he inspected another flower. He frowned in finding that it was wilting a bit.

“I'm not worried!” she immediately spat back. “I just… I just hate when she gets hurt.”

“No wonder you're always in a bad mood.” Ven remarked without thinking about it. Elrena flashed him a glare so dark, Ven physically recoiled from it.

“It is nice to know she's cares, isn't it?” Lauriam just as easily laughed. Elrena gave him a dark glare as well, but he simply shrugged it off. Instead, he picked up the wilting flower and brought it up to the front counter.

“In any event,” he said, taking the flower out of the ceramic vase. “You and I both know that Strelitzia's not going to change jobs anytime soon. She loves it here.”

“Must be a stupid masochist then.” Elrena huffed, even folding her arms in defiance. “Not a day goes by that she comes home with some new cut, or bruise, or headache from all these stupid plants...”

“Pretty sure everyone in our family has a high tolerance for pollen.” Lauriam laughed. “I think it just depends on your perspective.”

That earned him a peeved eye roll, along with another huff. Lauriam was definitely not paying her any mind while he laid the flowers in a single row. He placed the vase close to Ven- a hint that the younger needed to dump out the water. Ven made a mental note of it; he was still studying, after all. He did hand Lauriam some loose newspaper when he asked for it, though. Apparently Lauriam was going to dry the flowers out later.

“Our parents started Dandelion's you know.” he then thoughtfully said. “It was right after they got married.”

“I know that.” Elrena grumbled.

“You do, but Ven doesn't.”

Elrena let out an undignified huff. Lauriam offered a small chuckle in response before properly turning his attention to Ventus.

“They used flowers from their own garden. Mother handled the arrangements, and Father actually went to do minor landscaping work around town. Hence the dual 'Floristry and Gardening' bit on the full business name. It's not just because we sell gardening supplies year round.”

Ven gave a small, rather uninterested nod. By now he'd gathered that Lauriam wasn't really related this story to him, he was reminding Elrena. There was a reason why Strelitzia loved working here.

“Strelitzia was the one who brought up the idea of placing the shop here in the outlets. She was about 16 then, and the four of us decided to go out shopping for Mother's birthday. The moment she saw the store front, she knew the store had to be here.” Lauriam let out a soft snort before going on to say, “She had pretty good tastes, honestly, with it being a corner lot and all. Makes it easier to get big deliveries in and out.”

“Hmmph.” Elrena grumbled. “She only wanted it here because Ephemer's sylph worked at the antique store three shops down.”

“I thought she met Strelitzia when Ephemer started working here.” Ven cut in, now a bit confused.

“Anora and Strelitzia dated for a year and a half.” Lauriam gently agreed. “But Anora started working at the antique store when she was 17. Strelitzia was 18 then.” Lauriam offered Ven a kind smile. “You might be thinking of Anora and Brain. They met when Ephemer started working here, and hit it off pretty well from what I understand.”

At this, Elrena laughed in a rather obnoxious pitch. “More like hit on each other!” she cackled. “Those three were threewaying so often, that brat of theirs would have needed a paternity test if he didn't end up with Ephemer's hair!”

Lauriam frowned. “Elrena, you don't know that.”

“I bet they still go at it every now and again.” she went on, absolutely reveling at the thought. “Betcha in the next five years (maybe even sooner if you catch my drift), she's gonna pop another and it'll have hair as black as sin!”

“Elrena!” Lauriam finally demanded. “That's enough!”

Elrena immediately reined herself back in. Even Ven shrunk a bit at Lauriam's tone. Seeing Lauriam angry was possibly one of the most scariest things about him. Assuming he even let that anger show, of course.

“Back to the original topic at hand,” the oldest between the three of them said before slowly returning to a more relaxed demeanor. “It's because of Strelitzia that we were able to understand what Dandelion's meant to the community. Our parents had to raise the money to rent out this property at first. Once the whole town caught wind of it, we were able to meet the goal in a month.”

“That's pretty impressive.” Ven noted. His voice didn't sound as enthused though. Lauriam smiled at the acknowledgment, regardless.

“It was quite the shock.” he agreed. “Our parents were old souls- gentle, and fair too humble for their own good. Moving Dandelion's to the outdoor mall became a rather big affair. At the head of it was Strelitzia. Before Skuld was brought on to be our bona fide manager, it was Strelitzia.”

“Strelitzia's the one in charge of hiring new people too, right?” Ven asked. The thought had came to him suddenly. He could faintly remember his initial interview two or so years ago. Tired of being cooped up at home while Terra and Aqua worked at their respective jobs, Ven had been wandering around the outdoor mall for something to do. He walked by Dandelion's Floristry and Gardening, noticed the 'Now Hiring!' sign taped to the window, and immediately made a choice. Ephemer was the first person he got to know that worked here. Strelitzia became the second.

“She is.” Lauriam agreed with a smile and happy nod. “She has a natural intuition toward other people. We don't hire anyone without her say so.”

Elrena grunted. For a moment, Ven had to wonder why. Had Elrena tried to work here before?

“Point is,” Lauriam went on, “You can't separate this store from Strelitzia, or vice versa. Our parents might have started it, but she is Dandelion's Floristry and Gardening.”

Elrena was silent. The words settled around them as she thought long and hard over the idea. She knew he had a point, and she hated it.

“She's going to kill herself here.” she finally decided, looking up at Lauriam with a steely gaze. “How can she be happy when all she does is hurt herself?”

“Maybe you could ask her yourself.” Lauriam suggested with a sly grin. He then gave a rather bemused chuckle before taking the flowers to the backroom.

Elrena waited for when he was out of earshot just to mimic in a whining voice, “Maybe you could ask her yourself.” She huffed, folding her arms once again, then proceeded to act rather indignant. Ven didn't know why she was still in the store at this point.

He raised an eyebrow at her before questioning, “If you like Strelitzia so much, why don't you just tell her?”

“If you like that tramp Brain calls a sister so much, why don't you just tell her?” Elrena shot back, her voice still obnoxiously high. She let out a frustrated sigh before snapping at him, “It's not that simple, Roxas.”

Ven looked at her. Any thoughts about studying now were thrown out the window. If she wanted to go for the throat, then he was more than willing to fight back too.

“First of all,” he said, “My name is Ventus; Ven if you bothered to be nice for all of five seconds. Second, Strelitzia actually listens if you asked her to. And third, at least I'm trying.”

Elrena stood up a bit straighter at his assertion. A look of bewilderment crossed her face before being replaced with a snide smirk.

“Look at you, growing a spine.” Elrena marveled. Her voice was still chilly, though. “Keep that attitude up and you might just lose your virginity before graduation.”

It took Ven a solid three seconds for what she said to click. His face then started to flush a rather deep shade of red as he tried to return to his schoolwork. Elrena just snorted at him.

“Pathetic.” she mumbled under her breath. Then, without any warning, she shouted at the top of her lungs, “Well, if you're done talking to me, Lauriam, then I guess I'm out of here.”

Lauriam came out of the backroom just to wave her out.

“Have a safe trip home.” he told her. Elrena gave him a half hearted wave as she went on out. Ven, for one, was glad she was gone now. His joy at her departure did not go unnoticed. Lauriam looked over at him in thought for a moment.

“You're a lot braver than her, Ven.” Lauriam noted. “Just… next time? Be easier on her. She's not out of the closet yet.”

Admittedly, it took Ven a moment to realize what Lauriam said. When he turned around to give his coworker a funny glance, he was already gone.

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btsposties · 4 years

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MATES (2) -M-

―pairings: Jungkook x Reader (this chapter), BTS x Reader

―genre: smut, mature, slight e2l, College!AU, werewolves!AU

―warnings: smut duh, foul language, dirty talk, boys being rough, grinding, choking, fingering, spanking, jealousy, teasing, marking kink, the boys can’t control themselves around you, idk smut.

―summary: The Bangtan boys, a clique of seven extremely good looking, rich, smart boys on campus, quite adored by females, except no one was able to really get close to them and past their brotherhood. You never truly bothered to get to know them, until that one fateful day where you discovered their secret. You tried to avoid them, but alas they could always sniff you out because the boys needed you.

Let the hunt being.

―part (1)

tags: @ayujaded @toddsgirl27 @mrcleanheichou @yeontanie21 thanks for the support!

----

“Say that again?” the tallest male blinked and tilted his head, listening carefully to what the other male said. The members were all gathered in the living room of their grand house.

“I think we found an Alphas Mate” the owner of the deep voice repeated.

“Taehyung...” the tallest frowned, “You want me to believe that a mere powerless, fragile human is an Alphas Mate” he raised an eyebrow still unable to believe the other.

“For fuck’s sake Namjoon, Jimin almost screwed her brains out on the sofa, he was acting like a damn bitch in heat, no normal female human would get him like that” another male chipped in, “even Jungkook is whipped for her” he pointed at Jungkook who in turn just shrugged his shoulder.

“Yoongi please, this doesn’t make sense, please think logically.” Namjoon insisted. Never in his many years of being with countless females or even werewolves had he felt any raw animalistic urges to mark them as his mate, let alone even considering a human as a potential mate for life.

“But it is true, Namjoon, you have to believe me, I couldn’t control myself when I met her. I know I like flirting and playing around with females but she...” Taehyung paused and rubbed the back of his neck, frustrated that the Alpha wouldn’t believe him, “She was so beautiful. I felt like she was so perfect for us like she would fit right in, so challenging, so wild and free!” he exclaimed, the excitement clearly showing.

“Calm down there pup, she isn’t yours,” Jungkook said in a firm tone, making Taehyung nervously shift in his seat. Jungkook looked at Namjoon who just sat there pondering at the possibilities of the existence of such humans. A human who could stir up even an Alpha werewolf’s heart.

“I guess I need to meet this Y/N that’s making the pack go wild” Namjoon finally decided that he had to see to believe and that the words of his excited brothers were just not enough proof. “It could just be the moon or the hormones, was she on her period or something?” he turned to Jimin.

The smaller and gentler looking werewolf chuckled, “No, I would’ve noticed on our previous encounter, trust me.” he giggled at the last part, making the reason too obvious.

“Then I must go pay the little Y/N a visit sometime,” Namjoon murmured to himself.

----

You had been extremely cautious on campus ever since your little incident back at the Bantang household. You dreaded meeting Jimin or Taehyung again, afraid of how you might find yourself tangled in their hands again. You had just accepted the fact that you had learned of their secret- or at least that they weren’t normal humans and that they were surely going to contact you again. Damn, were they going to kidnap you? murder you? prey on you like what the wolf wanted to with Little Red? did they have some magical powers that could erase your memories? “Holy shit, I’m fucked.” you barely whispered out loud.

“Why are you just staring at your lunch? I can always have it if you don’t want any” Jackson, your best friend waved his hand in front of your eyes, hoping you would come back. “What’s gotten into you lately?”

You let out a sigh, “It’s...nothing really, I’m just overthinking things” you took another bite of your peanut butter and jelly sandwich, lately, you just couldn’t find your appetite, mind preoccupied with Bangtan scared that they might show up the next corner you took, “I hope” you sighed again.

And just like that, two whole weeks had passed. Maybe you really were just being way too paranoid. Maybe they decided to leave you alone since you never spilled their secret. An implicit agreement of we won’t kill you if you don’t speak sort of thing. You decided that was most likely what had happened and felt like you should go back to your usual life without worries.

You walked into your most hated course of the semester, not because of the teacher or the subject, after all, it was just an ethics course that almost everyone had to take at some point. All you had to do was sit in class, read and hand in whatever work the teacher wanted you to write about. The reason for your hatred was because although you only had this class once every week, you shared the same room and roof as her - Sara. The annoying bitch that for some reason couldn’t keep her loud self to her side of the room.

“Huh, so it is true,” you heard her say. Great, here we fucking go again... you rolled your eyes and turned the opposite way from the source of the voice, the girl sitting next to you looked at you and shook her head almost taking pity.

You could hear the loud clacking of Sara’s heels, who wore heels every day to class anyway? “What do you want?” you deadpanned wanting this encounter to end as soon as possible.

“You see...” she sing-sang as she approached and stood in front of your seat, putting one of her palms on the desk and flipping her hair with the other hand. “There’s this little birdy that told me that you, Y/N, went to Bangtan’s house alone and fucked one of the guys,” she giggled and looked around the room, trying to catch everyone's attention.

“And where would you get that baseless rumor from?” you raised your voice challenging her, she was known to be a troublemaker, thus not a lot of people really believing the garbage that came out her mouth. Deep inside though, you were shitting bricks, did someone actually see you? the only one that knew was Jackson and no one else, and you knew that boy was loyal.

“Oh Y/N, someone saw you and of course, they told me. And now I’m telling the whole class!” Sara exclaimed and clasped her hands together clearly enjoying this, “So I guess it is true, isn’t it? You went to their house.”

You felt irked, why was she so annoying? You weren’t the type to be stepped on either, so you took a deep breath and readied yourself for chaos.

“Yep, so what of it?” you smiled.

Sara’s eyes widened a bit, not expecting you to admit that publicly, she then smiled, “did they give you their number? call you back? contact you again?”

You shook your head, thankfully.

“Then I guess they didn’t like you huh?” she continued and you raised an eyebrow at her statement because Jimin sure as hell looked like he was enjoying himself back then. “They dumped you just like the other girls, one fuck and forever dumped” she added.

Oh.

Ooooh.

Now everything makes sense.

As if everything in the puzzle finally fit together, you finally made sense as to why the boys hadn’t shown up since then. That must be it. The rumor was true then, you were just another girl they fucked -or almost- and dumped. You let out a small relieved sigh confusing Sara. You were glad that they weren’t out there plotting to kidnap you for knowing their secret, they were just bored of you and since you had kept your mouth shut, they let you free. Right?

Right?

Sara pursed her lips together, not liking the way you were ignoring her attempts at ruining your day, “I would feel so bad knowing that I did so badly in bed” she cleared her throat trying to get you to react to her.

“Right.” You hummed.

Sara frowned, she wasn’t satisfied with your reaction. You, on the other hand, could give no shits about childish Sara at the moment, too happy to finally have your mind at true peace. Just as Sara was about to say something else, the professor entered the room and asked everyone to sit down, making the upset Sara cross her arms and stomp back to her seat.

----

You were so preoccupied with texting Jackson and sharing your little feud with Sara as you walked down the halls that you had failed to notice the tall male that stood still staring at you as you approached his way. Face glued on the phone and to no one's surprise, you crashed against the body, the person's solid chest making you smack your phone to your face. Ah- Dammit, not again... you took a step back and rubbed your hurt nose while putting your phone away.

“My bad” you offered a dry smile.

“Y/N” he smiled showing his dimples.

“Hm? Yeah, do I know you?” You analyzed the male in front of you, his hair was combed up and dyed ash silver, sun-kissed skin, around 1,80. He wore very casual clothes: loose gray t-shirt ripped jeans and sneakers. It would be a lie if you didn’t admit that he was very attractive.

“N-, Y-yes? Maybe? I’m not sure...technically no, heh.” He looked down flustered and for a second you could’ve sworn that he was blushing slightly, “I’m Namjoon, nice to finally meet you Y/N” he extended his hand to shake yours.

You took his hand and shook it lightly, shy at first but then slightly confused. It wasn’t too rare for guys to ask you out or try to get your number but something about him seemed different, he spoke to you as if he really knew about you. The man called Namjoon must have sensed your confusing state, so to get things going, he moved to the side gesturing you to keep going on your way.

“So, how have you been?” surprisingly, the male decided to keep walking next to you, slowing down his pace every few steps so he wouldn’t get too ahead of your short steps. Honestly, you couldn’t help but find this cute. “I was wondering perhaps you would like to talk for a bit, somewhere more private?”

Is he a stalker? am I in danger? You pondered, honestly weirded out at what Namjoon had suggested, you had no reason to go somewhere more “private” with him. “Uh, Namjoon... I don’t know you. Honestly, this is so stranger danger to me.” you said bluntly, cutting the bullshit.

“Huh. Guess I need to hang around a bit more around campus then...” he murmured to himself, you were still unsure on whether or not you should let your guard down in front of the handsome male. Suddenly he let out a laugh, taking you a bit by surprise.

“Okay then, if that’s all then I need to be on my way...” you waved goodbye as you picked up your pace, wanting to get away from him. There was something strange about him that you just weren’t sure what it was, your safest choice was to keep a distance from him.

Namjoon sighed, “I know that you know, Y/N” his voice dropped a few octaves as you slowly registered what he meant, you felt your heart drop and cold sweat breaking as you came to the realization of what he was referring to. You turned around wide eyes. It can’t be...no, I thought this was over.

“W-what do you mean?” you stuttered as you saw how Namjoon’s expression turned from friendly to serious, his stare piercing you, almost too intimidating. The man started to walk towards you, hands tucked in his jean pockets.

Namjoon towered you, definitely. Eyes looking at you fiercely, one of his hands coming up to caress your cheek with the back of his fingers, “Y/N, the boys told me that they went crazy for you. I mean both Jungkook and Jimin? Taehyung I understand, he’s...easily excitable...” he trailed off and tilted your head slightly to the side exposing your neck, “You smell sweet, I guess that’s different from others...” he mumbled to himself.

Your breath hitched, unsure of what to do. This man, this Namjoon guy knew Jungkook, Jimin, and even Taehyung. He knew that you knew about them, was he one of the Bangtan? You weren’t sure you had seen him around, what did he want? Your mind was all over the place, nervous and yet curious about what was to happen as you listened to Namjoon. Something about him captivated you.

“Let’s go home Y/N,” he said and grabbed your hand, taking you to what you assumed would be the Bangtan household, to what he would call home. “We need to talk, all of us.”

You followed.

----

You weren’t sure why you followed Namjoon, you should’ve run for it, called Jackson, the police, your mom, oh how would she have screamed at you for not listening to your stranger danger radar. Yet here you were, getting out of Namjoon’s expensive Audi who-knows-what model sports car, you weren’t too knowledgable in that area. You were however somewhat familiar with the grand house you were about to enter, your last adventure with Jimin flashing past you as you saw the sofa, this time the house looked clean and organized.

“Y/N!” you heard a male shout as you entered the house, you looked up to find the familiar boxy smile man coming out of his room and greeting you from the second-floor balcony that looked over the living room and entrance. You smiled at him, he must have used his sharp senses and noticed that you were here-

Oh, right...oh god, you had just willingly entered a house full of non-humans, why do you make such poor choices in life? Is this okay? was this it? Was this how you would die, in the hands of seven beautiful men?

“I need to send my location first” you announced just in time for everyone to hear. The rest of the Bangtan Boys were gathering in the living room some faces familiar, some not. You took your phone out and texted Jackson: I’m at the wolves den. Bangtan boys invited me over, I willingly stepped into this house again...curse their charms and good looks. Pray for me.

You could hear a loud and cheerful laugh coming from a brown-haired male as you sent the text to your friend. You looked up to find him trying to hold back his laughter, “We won’t hurt you, trust me, if any of us did anything to you the Alphas would have their fangs on our throats” he chuckled, you could notice that he had a very loud and bright personality.

“Okay, listen, I’m sorry I found out about your secret, I’m sure you don’t feel safe with me knowing...but I actually came here to say that I won’t tell anyone, I haven’t and I have no need to.” You turned to the unknown faces and smiled, “I don’t have anything to gain from that” you assured.

You were standing in the middle of the room, the seven boys all surrounding you, listening. Their expressions unchanging, as if focusing on something else and not on what you were saying.

“This human is the one?” a small-framed very fair-skinned male asked, “I’m not quite convinced, sure she’s banging from head to toes, she looks like she has personality but an Alpha’s Mate? not too sure about that” he slurred his speech, “didn’t you say you jumped her when you saw her, huh lover boy?” he pointed at Taehyung, your eyes turned to him horrified. Just what had they been talking about without your knowledge?

Taehyung nodded and Jimin came forward, “Now, don’t go all denying the fact that you all don’t smell her” Smell you? did you stink? You were uncomfortable with his remark, “She smells so sweet, I can’t describe it, it makes me go crazy even now” he winked at you and smirked. You rolled your eyes, you hated when they treated you like that, all superficial charms and empty words, you were too used to it.

All eyes were on you, their pupils dark, you felt like hopeless prey in front of them. Looking around the room you decided that you didn’t want to be the center of attention anymore and eyed the empty seat next to Jungkook and went to it, “Okay, you wanted to talk right Namjoon? Let’s talk!” you smiled nervously as you settled next to Jungkook who held his breath and lowered his head.

Namjoon observed the pack’s reaction to your presence, amused at the way Jungkook had just reacted now. He watched how the youngest of them let out a deep breath before leaning back on the sofa and turning to stare at your side profile. Meanwhile, in your seat, your hands slightly brushed against Jungkook’s when you went to push your long hair back behind your ears, a nervous habit of yours. Immediately you felt the strange sensation on your hands once again, it traveled up your arm and made your heart pound. Am I having a stroke or something? You touched your forehead anxiously checking for fever or sweating. Anything really that could explain the tingling.

“Y/N, let me introduce you to the pack as one of the Alpha’s,” Namjoon finally felt like easing the tense atmosphere, “We are a pack of werewolves, nothing too different from your species honestly, just stronger, better looking, faster...you could say that we are more enhanced humans” he explained.

“We also turn into big bad wolves” a male you have yet to be introduced to joked, “think of us as humans that sometimes act like canines who may or may not turn to big dogs when too emotional.”

You sat there trying to take everything in, time flew by as each member tried to chime in and tell you about their species although honestly, this was too much for you to take in. You turned to Namjoon when he loudly clapped two times to gather everyone’s attention.

“Okay okay, so let’s wrap this up it’s getting late for Y/N, I’m sure she has plenty of information she needs to take in,” Nanjoon proceded to point at Jimin and introduced every member to you, “That’s Jimin, you know him. That’s the oldest Jin. Yoongi, he’s a bit snarky but you’ll like him. Taehyung, no need to say anymore. This is Hoseok, he’s quite hyper. Then there’s me Namjoon and finally...” Namjoon looked at the figure next to you. Your body too aware of his presence.

“Jungkook” you breathed out and turned to face the male. His stare was piercing, lips slightly curling into a smirk as he reached out to gently hold a strand of your hair and letting it slip past his fingers.

“Nice to see you again love” Jungkook whispered to you.

“He’s the youngest, a bit tough and hard to read sometimes but deep down he’s a softie” Namjoon teased and received an Aish, Hyung from the younger one. “We have many things to discuss with you but we need time, I just want to make sure however that you know the following things...” the Alpha’s expression turned serious and everyone in the room quieted down.

“One: You cannot and must not tell others about us.” You nodded.

“Two: We are not the only ones of our kind, obviously.” You gulped and nodded, never really having thought about it. Were you hanging out with other werewolves without knowing?

“Three: Bangtan is not like the other packs, we are quite...unusual” you raised an eyebrow curiously, “Do you know what an Alpha is?” he asked you.

You gave it a thought, “Well, I guess it’s the leader? Of the pack? I guess” Namjoon hummed approvingly of your response.

“In a simple way yes. It’s the one that leads a pack, the dominant one.” his eyes slightly shifted to your left, your eyes following the direction of his gaze. “Bangtan...” he sighed, “Bangtan has three Alphas,” he said with slight annoyance in his tone.

“So you mean...Jungkook is an Alpha...” you reached the conclusion since Namjoon didn’t leave the gaze off the younger one even though he was talking to you. He must be referring to him as one of the Alphas, you thought.

Namjoon nodded, “and the third one is our lovely Jimin, though he might not really act like one. Don’t let him fool you.” Namjoon set his sight on you again, “Packs are not supposed to have more than one leader do you know what I mean Y/N?”

“N-not really...”

“We will decide and must decide who the top dog is” you sensed the tension in the air, this must be a sensitive issue for the pack. You weren’t sure why he was telling you this information.

“Y/N, you’ll help us” Jimin’s soft voice filled the room and the contents in your stomach turned, feeling a bit nauseous you frowned at Jimin, almost asking him to rephrase what he had said because your ears couldn’t believe him.

“I think I’ve overstayed” you got up and scrambled to grab your bag and headed towards the door, “This is not my problem, I appreciate that you guys trust me, but this is just too much, I won’t tell anyone but please keep me out of this.” your hands reached for the door handle only to have a large warm hand grab your wrist and stop you.

Your eyes opened wide, still not used to the superpower shenanigans that the boys were capable of doing, you pulled your hand away and looked at the owner of the hand that stopped you. Jungkook.

“Y/N, let me take you home.”

“No thanks, I’m fine.” you opened the door and it was dark outside, realization hitting you that Namjoon had been the one to give you a ride and that you were going to have to walk back home alone at dark in a very lonely neighborhood, it was at least half an hour walk. You pressed your lips together and took a deep breath, you had to do this, it’s too late to turn back, you weren’t going to embarrass yourself asking them for another ride after being the one to rush out.

“I wasn’t asking you,” Jungkook said dryly and stepped outside with you, he took out the car key and the same Audi sports car flashed its lights and unlocked itself. “Let’s go” he grabbed your hand and guided you to the car. The hand that Jungkook held felt incredibly hot and tingly, you blushed at the thought of holding his hand and settled in the passenger seat trying to ignore the rise in your body temperature.

“It wouldn’t be too crazy to assume you already know where I live”

“Yep,” Jungkook admitted. Of course they knew, they had probably investigated everything about you by now.

The first few minutes of the car ride was awkward. Pure silence and the sound of the car moving to its destination. Your hands holding tightly onto the seatbelt, unsure of what to. Next to you, Jungkook’s eyes were focused on the road, once in a while, you could hear him sniffle. “You can just leave me on the other side of the road so you don’t have to turn around-”

“Nah” Jungkook responded.

“I just don’t want my neighbors to see me come out of this flashy car, they’ll think I’m with a pimp or something” you almost facepalmed hard at the lame excuse.

Jungkook turned to you and you could feel he was judging hardcore, “Y/N...” he frowned, “just what kind of reputation do you have with your neighbors? Getting out of a nice car doesn’t mean you pimped yourself out that doesn't make sense.”

You opened your mouth to refute but he was right, you sighed, “I...just feel a bit uncomfortable here, you’re just- you’re impossibly intimidating Jungkook.” you confessed eyes straight on the road.

Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle, “Am I really?” he turned to you once more, this time his expression different, mischief in his eyes.

“Are you serious? You’re just so quiet, and tall, to me at least. Big and everything I see you wear is black! You also look like you’re ready to break someone's face if you wanted to just for the fun of it.”

Jungkook looked down at his clothes. Yep, black hoodie, black cargo pants, black boots, black hair. He almost laughed at your comment. “Well damn Y/N, now that you say it, I see what you mean!” he smiled amusingly, corner of his eyes wrinkling a bit. Your heart almost jumped out of your body.

“Plus, you guys don’t exactly have the best reputation around, especially with women” you added, “I’m not sure why you guys want me to help, I really don’t wish to involve myself in any Twilight Jacob werewolf-vampire dispute or whatever problem you guys have.”

Jungkook frowned, “Vampires don’t exist.”

“Oh, but werewolves do?” you deadpanned.

“Yeah, well- not the types from romance novels, those kind vampires don’t exist.” he rubbed the back of his neck slightly uncomfortable with the topic, “As for werewolves, it’s complicated.”

“Complicated is an understatement,” you rolled your eyes, this conversation was ridiculous. Part of you just couldn’t believe the monsters you thought were fictional were very much real and breathing next to you. The other part of you very much so believed it all, after all, you had personally witnessed the powers.

“Do you like scratches?”

“Huh?” Jungkook almost stopped driving, unsure if he understood your question, “what do you mean?”

“You’re a dog right?”

“Wolf. Werewolf. Part wolf.” he corrected you as saw a small pout forming on his lips not really liking you comparing his species to a regular household canine.

“Same thing, so do you?” you didn’t know what had gotten into you but your curiosity was getting best of you, you had to know now the answer, you didn’t wait until Jungkook verbally gave you an answer and reached out to him. You put your hands behind his ear, your fingers slightly tangling with a few strands of his hair and gave it a go.

Immediately, Jungkook tilted his head to the side, “stopstopstop” he giggled, “y/n this is dangerous, I’m driving!” he was trying to hold in his laughter. You pulled your hand away satisfied with the confirmation of your thoughts and burst out laughing.

“You can’t tell the others about this” he gave you sheepish smile.

For a second you were lost at the sight of this Jungkook, it was different and new seeing him show a softer side of him. You hadn’t noticed that he actually had very soft yet manly features: big doe eyes that you just discovered now that you had taken a good look at him- they weren’t that intimidating now that he wasn’t looking so serious, thin upper lip, his longish dark hair just reaching below his eyes. He looked very youthful, playful, innocent-like even.

“Stop staring so much, or I can’t promise I’ll control myself before I get you home if you keep this up” his words smacked you right back to reality. You whispered a quiet sorry and wanted to hide, Jungkook had just caught you staring.

“I wasn’t staring. I was just...taking in details of your face” you lied, “not every girl is dying to get in your pants Jeon.” you frowned.

Jungkook smirked slightly unable to hide his enjoyment, he set an arm on the window sill and rubbed his lips, he sucked in a bit of air through his mouth and looked at you sideways tilting his head back a bit, “Am I really just that handsome?” he raised and dropped one eyebrow cockily.

You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at his silly expression, of all the things that could happen you didn’t picture yourself laughing with Jungkook during the car ride, both of you giggling at his endless exaggerated meme-able expressions showing you how “handsome” he could be. You were laughing uncontrollably the whole time this happened, truly comfortable with the Bangtan member. Maybe they were decent people after all.

“Jesus stop Jungkook! Focus on the road!” you laid your hand on top of Jungkook’s, giggling and his grip on the staring wheel tightened, his eyebrows furrowed and you let out an audible gasp. It was as if there was a spark when your hands touched. You immediately pulled your hand away and held it close to you dumbfounded as tingling started to take over it.

“I-i think I’m showing signs of heart attack or stroke, I don’t know, my hand...” you nervously spoke. Jungkook, on the other hand, slowed down and steered to the side of the road and parked the car on the almost empty street. He sighed before turning to look at you.

“Jungkook, I’m worried. It keeps happening whenever I’m around you guys or I don’t know if it’s a coincidence but i-”

“Calm down Y/N” Jungkook cooed, grabbed both hands and lowered them down, “Please, breathe” he whispered with concerned eyes. He could hear your heart quickly picking up the pace and you panicked, “trust me, it’s not something bad, just breathe, don’t panic.”

You took a deep breath in...and a deep breath out while looking at his lowly dimmed face. His hands felt very warm holding yours and although there was a tingling sensation, there was no pain or any other symptoms, your heartbeat going back to a steady and normal rhythm, your panic most likely the reason for its rapid beating. You somehow managed to calm down while doing breathing exercises with Jungkook, who watched you carefully the whole time.

“Looks like your hearts back to normal” he smiled, “you’re not having any sort of heart attack, you just panicked” his thumbs rubbed calming circular motions on your palm, “this tingling that you feel Y/N, I feel it too.”

“You do?” He nodded.

“It’s a sign,” he whispered lowly almost inaudible, “that we’re meant to be.”

He looked at you with half-lidded eyes, his gaze so soft and sincere that your body started to react to him on its own. Jungkook’s gaze dropped to your lips and he slowly leaned his body in, also acting on instincts. As if you could feel his very warm body heat spread over, you also started to feel the warmness in your cheeks as you could feel his face draw closer and closer. You felt like you were under a spell.

“Jungkook...” you mumbled and he stopped his movement immediately, his eyes traveled to yours as if waiting for permission to continue and you responded by lowering your shy gaze down to his lips, you weren’t sure if this was correct, you weren’t completely registering what was happening as you were mere seconds from kissing Jungkook. And it happened.

His soft lips touched yours lightly, lips slowly exploring yours, almost scared of hurting you or perhaps he was giving you a chance to back away before it was too late. But you gave in, you leaned forward and responded to his kiss by deepening it, intensifying it and Jungkook loved it.

“God you’re driving me mad right now” Jungkook pulled away to look at your expression, your half lid eyes were staring back at him, your lips slightly parted and breathing heavily. Your face truly begging for more and it was costing Jungkook inhumane self-control to not just take you right there. He cupped your cheek and his thumb caressed it as you melted into his touch, he was being so gentle with you that you just didn’t know how to coherently respond to his actions.

“I should get you home now” he whispered and left a kiss on your forehead, you both settled back in your seats, Jungkook once again focused on the road and you on the warmness on your forehead on the place his lips had touched. Your whole face was heating up, you hadn't said a peep, the mind too preoccupied replaying everything that you had failed to notice that you were home.

Jungkook got off along with you and stood next to you as you were a nervous wreck trying to open the door to your home. “Jackson’s not home?” he finally spoke.

You nodded and opened the door, the familiar smell of your house invading you. Coffee and food, mixed in with the lavender smell from the air freshener. “Do you want anything to drink?” you asked as you took off your shoes and settled your bag on the counter.

Jungkook didn’t expect you to invite him in, all he wanted to do was really make sure you were home safely. He looked around the house, it was pretty normal, not too messy yet organized in its own way. It suited you. He took a step in and closed the front door making sure to lock it.

“Water is fine, I’ll stay until Jackson’s back” you hummed as you went over the fridge and passed him a cold bottle of water. You told him to make himself at home, turned on the tv and that you were going to change into something more comfortable.

Oh god, why did I invite him in? It just happened so fast I couldn’t stop myself, he did give me a ride, this is just a small thank you- You spoke to yourself as you quickly put on your usual home clothes. A thin, loose, very worn out t-shirt and pajama shorts. You rushed out of your room not wanting to keep Jungkook awkwardly alone in your living room on his own for too long.

“Y/N”

“Yeah?”

“Do you usually wear that at home?” Jungkook frowned eyeing you from head to toes and stopping his gaze at your chest. Oh. You froze in the hallway as you were making your way to the living room, and stared back at Jungkook who was sitting on the sofa eyes glued on you.

“I can see your tits poking, y/n” Jungkook was an honest man.

“STOP STARING” you shouted and covered yourself. Out of habit, you had taken your bra off when you had changed, a routine you did every day at the end of the day. As you were about to turn around and head to wear something more proper, you felt something pull you back and stop you on your tracks.

Turning around you realized it was Jungkook, again using his insane speed to get to you. “Does Jackson get to see you walk around the house like this every day?” his tone was low, dark, he almost sounded mad.

“No- Yes- Maybe?...” you stepped back and Jungkook stepped forward. You were clearly trying to put some distance between you now that you felt exposed, but he didn’t quite get the message through. You couldn’t help but blush at the fact that Jungkook was staring at you, knowing that just a flimsy fabric was keeping him from seeing your direct skin.

It’s not like it was the first time a man admired your body or that you hadn’t been with a man...It’s just the fact that it was the Jeon Jungkook that was the one that was staring you down, he somehow made you feel flustered.

“Stay back. I don’t like it when you guys get too close to me.” He continued stepping forward.

“Why not?” he paused and tilted his head to the side waiting for your answer.

“I- It’s weird, I don’t know, I can’t control myself. YOU guys can’t keep your hands to yourself” Jungkook lips slightly curled up, he found your flustered self cute.

He continued to corner you until your back was facing the end of the corridor, he looked very composed, confident, unlike you. His big innocent doe eyes no longer there when his hand reached to touch your lips.

“Show me what he sees every day” he whispered leaning down next to your ears.

Your body was on fire, there was something about Jungkook that made you so attracted to him despite barely knowing him. You gulped nervously and lowered the arm that was covering your breasts, you immediately felt your sensitive nipples perk up and rub against the fabric, clearly visible through the shirt.

Jungkook took a deep breath in, “Jesus Y/N, look at yourself” his hand went down to cup your breast and gave the nub a few circles with his thumb, “you should at least be considerate with your roommate, how much self-control do you think humans have?” his hot breath was on your neck, his hand gently fondling your breast before he rested both his hands on your hips.

He was right, you hadn’t realized how uncomfortable this could’ve been for Jackson, maybe he hadn’t said anything because this was your house after all. You saw him as a really close friend you could trust and he was very respectful of your space so you had never once realized that your comfort could be a discomfort to others.

You gasped when you suddenly felt Jungkooks large hands get under your shirt and grab your breasts harshly, “Don’t go thinking about others when I’m right here Y/N” he warned, “focus on your Alpha” you let out a moan when he pinched your nipple as a form of punishment. You felt your lower region tighten and wetness on your panties, you were so incredibly turned on by the way he was showing his dominance over you, you didn’t know you had this kink.

His lips claimed yours once again, this time the kiss was more intense, both of you desperate and holding onto each other while you paused to take a breath, “Wheres your room?” he asked breath shaking and you pointed to the room to your left. It didn’t take a second for Jungkook to barge right in as he pulled you in along with him.

He held your thighs and lifted you up easily and you wrapped your legs around his waist, kissing him as he walked towards your bed. He dropped you down and stayed above you never once leaving your lips, you moaned into the kiss when you felt him grind his hips right between your legs, you could very much feel his length hard against your clothed core.

“Y/N, tell me if you don’t want this” he mumbled as he lifted your shirt up and left small kisses around your chest, he then took your breast into his mouth and gave your nipple a bite and pulling it with his teeth, you hissed at the mix of pain and pleasure. He continued to devour you, leaving kiss marks all along your breasts and every once in awhile biting down harshly, you were sure you were going to be covered in marks the next day. “Tell me Y/N” he asked again.

“J-Jungkook!” you could only moan in response to his treatment, there was no way you were able to give him a coherent answer and he knew it, he was only having fun with you. Jungkook never gave you a chance to rest or to process anything, his lips, and hand touching you all over never giving you a chance to catch your breath. You felt his weight off you for a second only to be drowned again in pleasure when you felt his slender fingers slide between and over your clothed core.

“You look so beautiful to me right now” Jungkook whispered as his fingers slowly slid up and down, he stopped at your dripping core and slightly pressed in, teasing you, making you wish he had taken your shorts off so you could feel him inside, “God, the faces you make when I touch you like this.”

He added even more pressure and your back arched, hands grabbing onto the bedsheets and moaning out his name. You moved your hips to get more friction, to have his touch all over your pussy, you wanted release, you wanted him inside, you just weren’t sure what you wanted anymore but you needed more of Jungkook.

“Please, please just fuck me already” you finally begged him as you held onto his arm, your hips never stopping as you chased after your orgasm. Jungkook’s breath hitched and he completely pulled away and stood in front of you, admiring the messed estate you were in.

“Take it off and show me your pretty little cunt” he took his shirt off and you could’ve sworn you felt yourself wet even more. Jungkook looked at you in a very erotic and cocky expression, his eyes full of lust. He licked his lips and growled as you took your shorts and panties off together, revealing your wet dripping core to him. You bit your bottom lip and started to slowly, teasingly touch yourself for him, you parted your folds and showed your glistening core to the man before you, showing how your pussy was aching to have something inside.

It took every ounce of self-control for Jungkook to not jump you right then, but he didn’t because he too also enjoyed the teasing game. He slowly pulled his pants down enough to reveal his clothed member. Your eyes followed his every movement, you gulped when you saw how big he looked. “You think your pretty little pussy can take me?” he taunted you palming his cock.

You nodded and circled your clit with your slender fingers, letting out a small moan trying to seduce him over, you could hear the wet sounds your fingers made as they rubbed against your dripping cunt.

“Fuck yourself, show me,” Jungkook ordered and your body obeyed. You slid two fingers in and arched your back, hissing as you felt a bit of burn, you started to slowly pump your fingers in and out of you while letting out small whimpers.

“Just look at that cunt taking in those fingers so well, keep going, stretch yourself more or it’ll hurt when I fuck you,” he praised you as he stood there watching, he pulled his boxers down and his thick member pop out, he let out a groan as he started to slowly stroke himself spreading the precum all over his cock.

“God, please come here” you begged as you saw the glorious figure masturbate in front of you, “Jungkook, fuck me” your fingers headed for your clit as you rubbed hard on the nub, raising your hips as you edged near your orgasm, “please, please” you whimpered desperately.

Jungkook snapped.

He lunged forward and crawled on top of you, lips crashing into yours for a messy kiss, his hands all over you, grabbing your breasts harshly and giving them a slap making your skin go red, you winced at the pain and pulled away from his lips, “I’m so close” you warned him and he pulled your hand off your cunt. You let out a gasp when you felt your orgasm fade away due to the lack of stimulation, “What are you-”

“I’ll have your first orgasm” he whispered hotly in your ear and flipped you on your stomach, he pulled your hips and easily put your ass in the air with his strength, your stomach filled with butterflies as you loved how you were being manhandled.

“Fuck!” you cursed when his hand suddenly came in contact with your ass. The sound resonating in the whole room, “That hurt-” before you were done saying the sentence, his hand came down on your skin once again.

“I’m punishing you for teasing me so much” his tone was low, he grinned when you told him to not slap your skin so hard, “Can’t you take a bit of pain, my love?” he asked as his hands caressed the now bright red skin, trying to ease the stinging, “Sorry, sometimes I forget humans are so fragile” he went for another slap, this time much gentler.

“Please stop teasing me” you softly asked with your face to the side pressed on the pillow, “I can’t take it anymore.”

“Impatient aren’t we? I’ll reward you this time.” he kissed your flush ass cheek, “for putting up with my teasing.”

His hands were on your hips again as he flipped you around, he propped your legs open and slid two fingers inside you without warning, your eyes widened and you gasped at the sudden intrusion. His larger fingers filling you up more and reaching in deeper than your own. He started out with a merciless pace, wet sounds filling your room as he helped you reach your high.

His lips roamed your body leaving kiss marks all over until he just like the other Bangtan stopped at your neck, he gave a long sensual lick, sending goosebumps all over your body, you could feel his lips curl into a smile and you heard a small chuckle, he must really be enjoying your reactions to his every touch. He pulled his fingers out and slid his middle and ring finger back in, you held your breath knowing all too well what was about to happen.

Just as you were about to protest that you weren’t going to be able to take it so roughly, you felt his other hand make it’s way to your neck, his long fingers wrapping around your thin neck, getting a good grip around it he tightened his hold. “Jungkook!” you gasped when you felt your airway tighten, his lips traveled to your ears as he filled your head with filthy sweet nothings making you blush harsh as you imagined it all.

“Can my bitch come all over my fingers for me?” he pressed his whole body onto you, trapping you under his hold, he gave your breast a kiss and the other nipple a bite and pulling it, your back arched at the pain, your whole body on sensory overload, the whole time Jungkook pumping his fingers in and out of you.

Jungkook pulled away from your body, letting go of your neck and your eyes lost focus as your body regained its normal breathing. He stayed on his knees, he opened your legs up further and leaned forward, putting his torso between your legs and supporting his weight with his left hand next to your body, his torso preventing your legs from fully closing in. You gulped, you knew what he had in mind.

Jungkook gave you a wicked smirk as he tilted his head slightly up and looked at you with lustful eyes, “I’m going to make you lose your goddam mind Y/N, you’ll forget what Jimin even tried to do to you” he curled his fingers upwards, searching for that spot, the one that would make you snap and break, “I’ll have you thinking about me and your pussy is going to wet your panties as you remember how I made you cum”.

He found it.

“Jung-!” you barely got his name out as his fingers started to furiously pump in and out of you. He pushed all the way in and moved his hand up and down with his fingers curled inside, the palm of his hand also rubbing deliciously against your sensitive nub. You were seeing stars, you were a moaning mess, body covered in sweat, hair sticking to your forehead, your body was trashing all over the place,

“Jungkook, I can’t-” you groaned and grabbed the wrist of the hand that was fucking you so well, you couldn’t take the extreme feeling, you felt your whole body lose control, “God I- going to-” you were a loud mess, you held onto his wrists hoping he would slow down a bit but he slapped your hand away and pinned it down with his free hand.

“You are going to take it all” he continued to watch the faces you made, his cock twitching, desperate to be inside your sopping cunt, “I love seeing you like this” he bit his bottom lip and added more force against your clitoris with his palm, hand rubbing up and down, “God Y/N please come all over us both” he urged.

You nodded desperately, your orgasm just a few seconds away, your legs fighting to close together but Jungkook stopped them and made you take it all.

And then it hit. You screamed out his name.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he whispered as your body tensed, your legs started shaking and his hand slowed down a bit as your orgasm took over, you felt your juices spill, with Jungkooks movements making it sprinkle everywhere, you felt some of it fall on your thighs, most of it dripping down to your ass cheeks, you felt the mattress dampen as you shut your eyes and let it all out.

You heard Jungkook curse as he pulled his fingers out of your sore region, his hands landing softly on your thighs drawing circles helping you come down from your high, he watched as your chest breathed in and out rapidly, he listened to your heart pounding inside trying to calm itself after an intense orgasm.

“I might have ruined fingering for you,” he suddenly said.

You rolled your eyes and grinned, half agreeing with him and shifted your body to the side to look at him and your breath hitched, you saw how Jungkook was still holding a massive hard-on, his cock standing proudly in between your legs, you honestly for the first time felt worried being with a guy, not too sure you body was going to be able to take him after that.

“What’s wrong love?” he followed your gaze and looked down at himself, smirking, his eyes flipped up and met with your horrified look, “don’t worry love, I had plenty of fun this time” he smiled, the corner of his eyes forming wrinkles. He rubbed your inner thighs lovingly and stepped down the bed, pulling his pants back up and searched for his shirt.

You stared at your ceiling, feeling the soreness creep up and take over your legs, you let them slump down and let out a sigh. Why were the guys so irresistible to you? You normally weren’t so easy to sway. Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt the side of the bed dip as Jungkooks figure sat at the side next to your spent body.

“How are you feeling?” he pushed a couple locks of your hair away from your face, “I...got a bit carried away, I really was just going to wait until Jackson was back-”

“Y/N?!”

Your eyes widened.

“ARE YOU FUCKING HOME?!” you heard Jackson shout outside in the living room followed by the slam of the front door, “I’m going to murder you for leaving me hanging after you said you were at their house!” he voice grew louder as he was closer to your room.

Your heart was pounding, you jumped up and scrambled to put on your clothes, this time also putting on a bra underneath. The whole time Jungkook stayed seated and watched you panic, a playful smile plastered on his face. You ran to your bathroom to check yourself out and make yourself more presentable. when you stepped out you froze when you saw Jungkook still where you left him, you didn’t know what to do. Your eyes scrambled around the room for solutions and stopped at your window.

No way, this is the second floor...

“Y/N?” Jackson knocked on your door.

“I’m here!” you shouted back, stared at Jungkook and silently mouthed ‘you need to leave’, “I’m in the bathroom, I’ll be right out!” you told your friend.

“Why didn’t you answer my calls?” Jackson asked through the door.

Shit.

You grabbed your phone and unlocked it, 5 missing calls and 10 messages all from Jackson. You own loud moans and Jungkooks fingers inside you probably made it hard for you to notice anything. You were busy reading the missed messages from your concerned friend that you failed to notice Jungkook had gotten up from where he was.

“Sorry, I-” you were suddenly interrupted as you were pulled into a kiss, his hands cupped your face as his lips met yours so suddenly that you didn’t have time to react when he had already pulled away, “What?...” you whispered.

He rested his forehead against yours, your faces merely inches apart, “I hate when you pay attention to other males when I’m right here” he murmured.

“Y/N?” You turned your head to the door, the voice reminding you that there was another person in the house.

“Jackson, I’ll be right there” you lied and heard Jungkook chuckle behind you.

By the time you turned back to Jungkook, he was gone from where he previously was and was opening the window. He can’t be serious...you told yourself.

Oh but he was.

He took a look outside as if calculating where he would land if he were to jump from there. Thankfully only your empty grassy backyard was waiting but it was still a long way down. A frown suddenly formed when you knew that Jungkook was indeed going to jump down from your window.

“No! what are you thinking? You’ll hurt yourself” you whispered really low as you grabbed his arm and tried to pull him back in, he already had one of his legs dangling outside, “Are you stupid? just wait until he goes into his room, just wait here.”

Jungkook grinned and his youthfulness really showed this time, his playful nature showing when he poked his tongue out, “You really have a lot to learn from our kind, y/n” and with that, you watched as Jungkook’s body slipped out the window and fell down.

You poked your head out the window in time to catch Jungkook landing smoothly on the ground with a squat to soften the fall, kind like how cats would always land on the feet. He got up and looked to see you watching him, he smiled, waved at you and jogged away, you watched him until his frame was out of view and stepped back in your room dumbfounded.

What the actual fuck was that? How could you not be one bit hurt from that?

You finally stepped out of your room and headed to the living room where Jackson was laying on the sofa eyes busy on his phone.

“Sorry, I was taking a shit”

He looked at you in disgust, “You’re nasty.”

You giggled and went to join your best friend on the sofa, you went to hug him as usual when he suddenly froze and looked at you. You noticed he glanced at your body briefly and frowned, “You stink, go shower you nasty person.”

You tilted your head to the side, he had never said anything like that before, maybe you did smell like sweat after your little session with Jungkook, you blushed as you stood up a bit too conscious and wondering if you did smell, “Yeah, I had a long day. I’m going to take a nice relaxing bath.”

“Yeah, you better wash that stink off,” You slapped his shoulder playfully at his remark, you smelled your shirt but only picked up the scent of fabric softener and the body cream you always used.

Huh, what smell is he talking about? You wondered.

#bts #bts smut #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #bts jimin #jimin #jimin fanfic #bts werewolf au #bts x reader #bts v #bts taehyung

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iforgotmypreviousaccountlol · 3 years

Text

Starting Line

Happy Holidays, @carson-asmo-lover

This is your Secret Santa gift. I hope you like it!

AU: Asmo is a uni student who just moved into a new apartment unit, Solomon is living next door learning how to bake. Every day, Asmo would smell the sweet aroma of baked goods from his room and in the hallways. One day, after a hectic day from uni, he stops in front of the door trying to guess which baked good is being made for that day. The door opens, cue awkward silence, Solomon invites Asmo into his apartment, and into his life.

ASMO

There, there it is again. Asmodeus glanced at his wall clock. Right on time: 2 o’clock in the afternoon. The sweet smell of sugar and pastry permeated his room. His next-door neighbour is baking again. He closed his eyes and inhaled, trying to take a guess which pastry his neighbour decided to make today. It has been a good past-time for whenever he found himself bored on some days when he doesn’t have uni classes. Not that he had nothing better to do, he had to catch up on a lot of schoolworks but he isn’t in the mood to do them right now.

He moved in just a few months ago so he could be closer to school, but now that he enjoyed the new-found freedom that is living alone, he realized he missed the constant presence of his brothers. Sure, having his own place meant that Lucifer wasn’t around to nag him when he goes out to party most nights, or if he brings people back to his place for some night escapades (He never did bring someone over though. Maybe he should.) He made a mental note to go home for the weekend if the workload permits.

“Cinnamon rolls,” he finally said, propping up from the couch. The sweet smell of the cinnamon powder that contrasted with the slightly sour cream cheese made Asmo’s mouth water. He groaned. “If you’re gonna make pastries, at least offer some to your neighbours so we don’t get hungry from the smell.”

Now he has no choice but to go down and buy something sweet to satisfy his craving. He put on a peach sweater and wrapped a white scarf around his neck. He stared at his reflection for a moment. His champagne-colored hair was longer on one side, stylishly swept to frame his face. His diamond stud earring reflected light when he turned his face in a certain angle. “Alright, enough. I look stunning, as always.”

He wrinkled his nose at his neighbour’s door when he passed on his way out, the smell of cinnamon is much stronger in the hallway. He hadn’t even met the mysterious baker, given that he’s almost always out to some party when he isn’t in class, it’s strange that they never even once bumped into each other in the lobby or the elevator. He shrugged and went on his way to hunt for some cinnamon rolls.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Asmo was almost dragging himself back to his condo unit after a hectic morning. He had a 3-hour lecture for Fashion Marketing and he had to pass a 10-page essay on Fashion Theory (which of course, he crammed last night. He even skipped a campus party!) and he’s just about ready to pass out and is determined to take a long nap for the whole afternoon. That would have been a solid plan, except it’s 2 o’clock in the afternoon and the scent of baked sweets wafted from his neighbour’s room and into the hallway.

He stopped on his tracks and inhaled the scent, his brain immediately fell to its routine, trying to discern which ingredients are being used to create what pastry. “Milk, definitely. What else? Eggs? And oh—”

The door suddenly opened. Asmo jerked back in surprise, his hand latched to the strap of his sling bag. He blinked once, twice.

A tall man with silvery-white hair with stunning blue-gray eyes, wearing a black turtleneck with sleeves rolled up to his elbows and white apron, came out of the room carrying a small trash bag. Asmo was never one to be at a loss for words, especially not in front of attractive people, but his tongue refused to make an audible sound.

“Oh, hello. I suppose you’re my neighbour? I believe this is the first time we’re meeting each other?” The man continued, “I’m Solomon.”

Asmo shook off his surprise and cleared his throat. He wore his usual disarming smile and nodded at him. “Asmodeus. I just came back from school, I was just, uh,” he said while gesturing to his unit’s door.

“I see.”

Awkward silence filled the space between and around them. Asmo noticed a faint sprinkle of flour on Solomon’s right cheek, he clamped down the urge to reach in and dust it off.

The fire alarm started beeping causing the two to jolt in surprise. Solomon raced to the trash chute, dumped the trash bag and raced back inside his room to turn off the oven. Asmo stood unmoving to the doorway. He wondered if he should offer help.

Thick smoke came out of the oven when Solomon opened it, he fanned the oven with a mitt. The fire alarm hasn’t stopped beeping so Asmo mindlessly stepped inside and grabbed the nearest flat object (which happened to be a pan of piped cream puff dough) to fan the alarm component on the ceiling. He honestly had no idea what he’s doing. The piped dough from the baking pan fell and scattered on the floor, one even hitting him right on the cheek.

“Oh. It stopped,” he commented, the pan still raised over his head.

Asmo glanced at Solomon who was still kneeling in front of the oven and saw that a bunch of dough pieces is now strewn around the kitchen floor. A solitary piece of dough stuck on the baking sheet finally gave up and dropped on Asmo’s forehead. He blinked slowly, unsure on how to react.

Solomon snorted, obviously trying but miserably failing to hold back a laugh. Asmo flicked away the dough which earned a chuckle from Solomon, which in turn triggered Asmo to burst into laughter.

“Sorry, that was… not funny.” Solomon said in between laughs.

Asmo doubled over. He wiped a tear that escaped his eye from laughing and said, “It kinda was.”

“Listen, why don’t you sit and clean yourself up. I’ll just tidy up for a bit and we could enjoy the successful batch I made earlier. Think of it as a welcoming present.”

Asmo considered it for a moment. Sleep or… this? “Sure.”

Solomon smiled, and started cleaning up the mess.

Asmo pulled out a chair and sat. His rose and gold eyes followed Solomon’s movement. It mesmerized him; the grace in his movements, certain and self-assured. He stared so hard he didn’t even notice that Solomon was already standing in front of him asking something.

He shook his head a tiny bit. “I’m sorry, come again?”

Solomon chuckled. His chuckle sent a shiver down Asmo’s spine.

“I asked if you would like tea or coffee. To pair with the cream puffs.”

“Tea, please. With milk.”

Solomon nodded and proceeded to the kitchen counter to make the tea. Asmo wanted to face palm and cringe. Why is he acting this way?

“So… tell me about yourself,” Solomon said.

Asmo paused. In any other instances, he would’ve already started talking about himself without even needing to be prompted. Why is it that he can’t think of something interesting to tell this guy?

“Why don’t we talk about you first?” Asmo deflected the question.

That earned another smile from the fair-haired man. He brought the cooling rack containing the cream puffs and a tray of tea and cups.

“What do you want to know?”

Everything, Asmo thought. Instead he asked, “What’s your major?”

“Chemistry. You?”

Huh, that surprisingly fits him. “Fashion design. Why are you always baking?”

Solomon sipped his tea. “I promised my little brother Luke I would teach him how to bake. You see, a friend of mine, Barbatos went overseas for a job. He was the one who was supposed to teach Luke. But since he can’t, I decided to give it a go.”

“That’s incredibly nice of you.”

“Thank you. For now I still need to watch videos and study the recipe but I think I’m starting to get the hang of it. Well, except for the incident earlier.”

Asmo nodded. The cream puffs looked so good he wanted to pull out his phone and post it on his Instagram but he stopped himself. He reached for one and popped it into his mouth.

The milky taste and the slight crisp of the puff blended well, it tasted divine—Asmo’s thoughts stopped at the same time he stopped chewing. WHAT IS THAT? It’s bitter and spicy and sour, flavor after flavor assaulted his taste buds faster than his brain can process the actual taste of the pastry.

He looked at Solomon, the latter clearly expecting a comment or reaction from him. Good thing he quickly managed his expression. He smiled, the cream puff still stuck on the roof of his mouth.

He was saved by the ringing of Solomon’s phone. When Solomon turned his back to reach for his phone, he quickly spit out the pastry on his handkerchief and stowed it on his bag’s pocket.

Solomon’s eyes widened slightly at him when he saw him gulped down his tea as a desperate attempt to wash out the aftertaste. “You sure are thirsty. More tea?” Solomon offered.

“I am. Yes, please.” Asmo nodded vigorously.

“So, what can you say about the cream puffs? It’s my first time so I can understand if they didn’t turn out perfect.”

That would be the understatement of the year, Asmo thought. He also dreaded the question. To tell or not to tell? “Do you have any more of the strawberry tart you made the other day?”

“How did you know I made some?”

“Please. Everyone on this floor probably knows what you’re baking every day.”

Solomon chuckled and proceeded to get a strawberry tart from his fridge.

Asmo swallowed, bracing himself. Just a small bite. A chaos of flavors.

He placed his palms flat on the table for 10 seconds then rushed to the sink to spit out the tart and gargle water. “What the hell was that?”

Solomon raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean? It tastes normal to me.”

Asmo’s jaw fell when he saw Solomon eating his tart with no problem, enjoying it even. He can’t believe he spent his days craving for sweets his neighbour baked when in reality they taste this atrocious.

“That’s it, Solomon. You’re not allowed to bake anymore,” Asmo said, shaking his head.

“Huh? I thought I was doing fine. I really need to learn though, I can’t disappoint Luke.”

Asmo bit his lip, considering. He sighed. “Fine. You can bake all you want, but never without me. I’ll oversee whatever you’re doing to make sure you never end up making those… those unidentifiable monstrosities again!”

Solomon smiled; in his grey-blue eyes, Asmo saw wonders, and potential, and… a future. “Deal.”

SOLOMON

Solomon checked his watch. It’s Friday and Asmo will be coming over in a minute or two. It’s already been more than a month since they started their “baking lessons.” Granted, it’s not every day; it’s only twice a week, thrice when their schedule permits. But would it be a stretch if he admitted to himself that the highlight of his weeks are the days when Asmodeus comes over to watch him work?

A knock interrupted his thoughts. He should just give Asmo a spare key, he thought while walking towards the door.

“You’ll never guess what happened in class today! So see, I crammed a paper again last night so I almost came late for class. Our professor for that class was Professor Simeon, you know? He’s wonderful but can be very strict so I didn’t want to be late and be scolded but then, on the way to the classroom…”

Solomon’s lips tugged at the corner as he watched Asmo lament about his tiring day at school. His strawberry champagne bangs swept stylishly, slightly messed up by the wind. His gold and ruby eyes sparkling along with his words and gestures. Asmo always looked alive to him. No, not the usual alive as in living. Really alive. Maybe that’s what happens when you know to find love in everything.

“Anyway, what are we making today?” Asmo finished, hanging his white coat on the rack near the door.

We. It shouldn’t have sounded as nice as it did. “We,” he said the word with maybe a bit more excitement than warranted, “are making red velvet cake.”

“All right! That’s great. I love red velvet.”

“I already prepared—”

He stopped because of the irritation that flashed in Asmo’s eyes. He bit his lower lip to suppress a smile.

“Throw it out.”

“That would be a waste. At least try out the batter before rejecting it.”

Asmo put both his hands on Solomon’s shoulders and looked at him seriously, emphasizing his words, “Solomon, I know for a fact that you are an amazing and smart chemist, but you’re hopeless in the kitchen.”

Solomon laughed which earned a chuckle from Asmo. “No, no, I didn’t add any suspicious ingredients this time. I swear. I followed the instructions word for word.”

Asmo begrudgingly took a spoon and tasted the batter.

“Good?”

He shrugged. “Surprisingly.”

It was two weeks ago when Asmo finally figured out what he was doing wrong all this time. Solomon had a bad habit of experimenting with ingredients, most likely because of his chemistry experiments. But even after figuring out what’s the problem, Asmo continued supervising his baking. Not that he’s complaining, and not that he would ever ask the arrangement to be over. He would never admit it out loud, but he liked having Asmodeus over.

Solomon started whipping the frosting with a hand mixer while Asmo stayed close to watch him. It took a lot to focus and not glance on his side.

Asmo said, “Hey, you got a little something—”

His eyes met Asmo’s in time as Asmo’s fingers dusted something from his cheek. They stayed frozen in time for a moment; staring at each other, Asmo’s fingers barely grazing Solomon’s cheek.

The moment would’ve lasted longer if the mixer’s whisk attachment hit the side of the bowl in a wrong angle and sprayed both of them with frosting. They blinked at each other before bursting into laughter.

“Kitchen blunders for the nth time,” Solomon joked.

Asmo pulled out his phone and suggested they take a picture, Solomon let Asmo take their “selfie.” After Asmo was satisfied with the pictures, Solomon reached for a paper towel to wipe frosting from Asmo’s usual immaculately beautiful face.

After the cake cooled, Asmo helped design the frosting. He also took pictures to post on his Instagram. Solomon made an account last week just to look at the pictures occasionally. The photo of the cake earned hundreds of likes and comments in minutes. Well, that can’t be helped, Asmo is a popular guy. Solomon would be too if he actually bothered to socialize, but he found it rather exhausting to deal with people he’s not interested in.

“Hey, could you send me our picture from earlier?” Sol said.

“Oh yeah, sure.” Asmo fiddled with his phone. “…And sent.”

“Thank you,” Solomon replied.

They settled down on the table to eat the cake they made and have some tea. They talked about their days and their upcoming exams. Eventually, the sun started setting. Its golden rays streaming from the window, dyeing the room in a soft orange hue.

“I think you’re okay now, Solomon. Remember to just always follow the instructions and don’t add any unnecessary ingredients to whatever you’re cooking or baking, and it’ll turn out fine.”

Solomon raised an eyebrow. He pushed away the idea that Asmo will now stop coming over because they already eliminated the cause of the weird taste (which isn’t actually weird for him).

“It's a force of habit. I’m always curious so I can’t stop myself from experimenting with things.”

“I guess…”

“Why, am I eating up too much of your time?” He asked.

“Of course not. I like spending time with you, Solomon.” Asmo’s cheeks flushed a bit.

Solomon sipped his tea.

Asmo took the small window of silence to change the topic. “Anyway, I got a call from Mammon the other day and guess what? He’s appearing in a mag—”

“Me too,” he interrupted.

“Hmm?”

“I like spending time with you too.”

Asmo was caught off-guard but eventually smiled. He reached for his bag and pulled out a silver box with a champagne-colored ribbon. “By the way, here.”

Solomon’s brows wrinkled. “What’s this?”

“Happy Birthday, Solomon.”

“How did you—”

Asmo winked at him. “Information comes easily when you have a lot of friends.” Asmo laughed and continued, “Kidding. I’m in the same class as Meph, he works in the registrar’s office as an assistant so I asked him. I had to do him some favours, but eh, it’s worth it.”

“Thank you, Asmo. Really.”

Asmo’s phone beeped, he looked at his notifications. His eyes widened a fraction.

Solomon smiled. He had an idea why Asmo was surprised. He glanced on his own phone, notifications pouring in fast. He clicked on a post, his first one ever.

It’s a photo Asmo took of them earlier. Asmo, lively as always, was throwing a peace sign while winking, his ruby and gold eyes full of wonder; Solomon, his blue-grey eyes a pool of mystery, was smiling a bit, looking at him contentedly. The caption? Best birthday with ‘that special someone.’

His phone chimed, a notification appeared on top of his screen: Asmodeus liked your photo.

#obeymesecretsanta2020 #obey me au #obey me asmodeus #obey me solomon

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muffinlance · 4 years

Note

Do u like any atla ships in particular? like zukka?

I greatly prefer Gen and friendship over ships, especially with the ages of the characters--there is no reason for these Actual Babies™ to be getting into lifelong commitments, that isn't how romance works.

But one quickly runs out of Gen options, so I read all ships equally searching for plot gems. And I do mean all ships, they are all equally (un)appealing to my ace brain and therefore I skim over The Sex and look for plot potential.

Gonna just talk about Zuko ships 'cause y'all know where my heart is. My ship impressions, in order of increasing rarity:

Zutara -- a solid default ship. Pairs with any plotline. Wide range of writers. Come for the initial enemies-to-lovers drama, stay for the complementary and mutually supportive relationship. Can get troublesome in some of the written-before-Zuko's-personality-became-clear fics, and/or some capture fics. Special mention to Enslaved for being a Zuko gets captured fic, and a ridiculously good exploration of a realistic Water Tribe culture to boot.

Zukka -- smaller selection, double the fluff, and with an abundance of Ba Sing Se teashop AUs. That is not a complaint, that is my happy place. Stories tend to have greater baseline humor, and get more quickly to the Awkward Turtleduck center of their Zuko-pop. This is the Good Feels ship.

Jetko -- WHO LIKES DRAMA BOYS. (...I like drama boys.) Almost always Ba Sing Se fics, for obvious reasons. I like that writers generally treat this as exactly as unhealthy as it is, and usually then focus on growing both boys to better mindsets. This is the only ship where the writers might have one or the other of the boys Dump His Ass by the end, which actually makes it one of the most age-realistic relationships.

Maiko -- Is generally set post-season-three, which is a class of fics I generally don't read due to personal preferences (I really like mid-show drama, I make no apologies). AKA I have so little impression of this ship I almost forgot to include it. Don't hate it, but don't seek it out.

Toko -- I associate this ship largely with unfinished dead fics and the need to make it about romance rather than friendship at the last minute. Embers turning into Toko in, like, the last chapter was my first intro to the ship, and the trend of "let's have them be awesome buddies for many chapters (but they're totally gonna Do It when they're older) seems to persist across many fics. I continue to be unimpressed by people assuming romance adds more to a story than a solid friendship, but that's more a societal complaint than the fault of this ship.

Aang/Zuko, whatever the ship name is -- Generally integrates the relationship more than Toko, at least, but is mostly just a plotless smut tag, so I mostly just avoid.

Suki/Zuko -- these have real potential, such great personalities, but I don't see many finished works with it.

Yue/Zuko -- it breaks my heart that these are almost all dead fics 'cause they are rare but some are really good.

Jeeko -- given the character ages I keep not wanting to like these, but the writing community is small and ridiculously talented. Much higher average quality than other ships. Looking at you Nele and Dracze. Even the quickie fics have some manner of plot and touching character insights layered in. Did I set out to find a Drunken Wizard Jee Accidentally Summons Incubus Fire Demon Zuko Instead of More Liquor AU? No. Do I wish it was a full fic rather than a one shot? Yes.

Zucest -- Is usually just solid smut, as the ship name itself makes no illusions of, aka at best a skim read for plot from me. Lower average writing quality than other ships, again probably due to the small amount of writers.

Hakoda/Zuko -- Dammit Dracze.

#and no I don't endorse incest or statutory rape #...which is not a tag I ever thought I'd write...#but honestly the assumption that 14 year old Katara and 16 year old Zuko are going to be Together Forever is also pretty damn problematic #just more socially acceptable #...I'm gonna stay over here in my They Are Children gen corner thanks

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rotzaprachim · 4 years

Note

Ok but your soc au was and is absolutely everything I need!! I saw ur draft and was instantly brought back to like 2018 but like in a good way??!? You’re so talented it’s amazing!!

i’m SO GLAD TO HEAR and not sure if this is about the Hunger Games Au or the misfit au but EITHER WAY i am always so so SO glad when people enjoy my extremely niche soc (+ even nicher soc AU) stuff it’s been one of my most consistent interests for five years now.

ALSO! There is MORE of the SOC misfits au and i actually have so many ideas and precise plot points i am going to have to take out a notepad and try to plan this bitch out? Which i NEVER do? But here’s a scene from the opening. Hope you enjoy!

CONTENT WARNING that while one of the biggest divergences i plan to take is that the AU will be far, FAR less sexual than Misfits as a show, taking in mind the younger general target audience and character ages of Six of Crows and respect for the characters, there is a sexual joke in this that felt appropriatedly teenage.

“We were given these powers for a reason. We have to do something useful with them. Use them to help people.” Inej insisted.

“Given these powers by who, then? God?”

“God wouldn’t give them to us as a reward,” Matthias said, suddenly flexing his hands nervously, as if the possibility of his newfound ability to turn things into instant popsicles had in fact been conferred by a far more demonic entity. Looking at Kaz, he thought there was something to that particular theory.

“Everyone shut up with making the fucking community center into some kind of fucking seminary. God’s faker than the blonde hair of the poor girl who delivers off-brand milk to this dump on thursdays, and if there’s any supernatural reason for our powers, it’s that fate decided they’d dealt me a fucked enough hand and might as well give me something with a purpose.”

“And that is?”

“Making myself fabulously, disgustingly rich.”

“Which you plan to do with your ability to inflict plain in what, the fucking community center? None of us have five fucking quid to rub together, except for Posh Boy Here.”

“I don’t have five quid either,” Wylan said quietly, getting mostly drowned up in the arguing.

“Yeah you do,” Jesper said quietly. Wylan almost flinched, unused to being heard in the chaos. “I know the pen you have. Some kind of an old school Lamy that needs fancy ink cartridges. It’s like, ninety at least.”

“You know about Lamy pens? From where?”

“I got a past even the devil would flinch from, merchling. I have seen things. Horrifying things, spine tingling things, th-”

“I’ve seen you before. On Tv i think.”

It was Jesper’s turn to be surprised. “I-”

“There is no fucking way you are going to do that. I’ve been trying for fucking years and I barely make rent.”

“Are you saying you have a sharper acumen for the world of business, Nina dearest?”

“I’m saying I didn’t get fucking arrested for eating pick-n-mix, that’s for fucking sure. Anyway,” Nina said primly. “I agree with Inej. If we have powers we should use them for something.”

“Like what? Fighting the oppressive overarching structures of society that hold us all down?” Kaz’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Yes.” Inej said.

“I was thinking more like. I dunno, small things. Loads of hopeless cases around here.” She shrugged. “Maybe we can make some a little less hopeless.”

“That’s going to be really easy, what with the dead body of our probation worker lying around premises. Yes reporter officer sir, we did help that old lady cross the road with her sunday shopping, now come take our interview and take our photos for the Sunday Supplement and yeah, sir, don’t notice the full on bloody corpse lying in the rec room.”

“We do it in secret. Have codenames to mask our identities, like real superheroes do.” Wylan said.

“They organise a cute little meet-and-greet with a real fucking superhero as an extracurricular at Eton, did they now? Give you have so much experience with how real superheroes operate, then.”

Inej’s eyes flashed. It almost looked like a warning, and he filed a mental note that she looked like she might have a little more lightening inside than he’d first judged. Kaz glanced away from her and stared at the wall where they’d hastily moved a big sign for Mommy and Me Musical Magic Monday Maraccas Momzanza!!! (6 months to three years) over what remained of the blood, which, given the deteriorating likely asbestos-ridden condition of this rattrap, would be a goddamn bitch to fully get out of all the cracks and gouges in the wall. After they dealt with the body.

The problem was, he liked the posh twit’s idea. Liked it a lot, far more than he was willing to let on. If there was anything he’d learned in his years in the Dregs, it was that names had power. Images had power, the idea that other people had of you. If they were properly terrified, they stayed the fuck away and did what you told them too. Make something greater than yourself, and have them fear it. That was the closest you came to power in this world.

So Kaz gingerly nodded, levelling his enthusiasm in a slightly bored town. “Yeah, eh. Let’s do that. Codenames. So they don’t know what ours are.”

“You go first, then, genius. What’r you gonna be going as? Cazzo Brekker? Dickhead of the nth degree?”

Kaz thought for a moment. Tapped his gloved fingers against his knee. “Dirtyhands,” he said.

A long, sudden pause. Kaz’s brain worked fast enough to realise the disaster he’d just set off, and he was suddenly, urgently, jealous of Jesper and his powers over town.

The silence was broken by Nina shrieking with laughter, harpy lad and almost doubled over.

“Dirtyhands? You might as well call yourself Filthy Fingers. Or better yet, Massive Fucking Wanker.”

“You could abbreviate that to MFW,” Jesper added helpfully. “In case Massive Fucking Wanker was too long to fit on the superhero cape or something.”

Kaz glanced around. Inej had disappeared, although rather that was using her power or because she’d always been good at doing that even before the electrical storm made them all freaks from one of Wylan’s comics, and Matthias was doing something that looked like praying fervently, hands clasped and searching strips of the grey sky through the cracks in the skylights, looking very much like a man caught in one of the lower circles of hell and searching desperately for deliverance.

“Very funny. I have a suggestion for you lot, then. It’s called D-E-A-”

He was well into launching himself at both Nina and Jesper, certain that if a fight broke out he at the very least wouldn’t be the looser, when he rammed into something small but very solid.

“What the-”

Some very sharp fingernails pinched his ears. Bold move, considering his aforementioned touch-me-and-feel-excruciating-pain powers. It hurt.

“Where-?”

Inej didn’t rematerialise. Jesper jumped up, though, as if someone had sharply stepped on his foot. “Oww, mate.” He reached out, swatted air. Nina tipped sideways suddenly, rubbing at her scalp. “Shit, did you have to yank at my hair that hard?”

She was fast. Tricky, tricky. Kaz mentally reassessed his current pecking order of bullshit-powers-by-order-of-danger

“If we don’t stop fighting, we’re all end up in prison again. Police’ll be here soon, and we need to make alibis. They’ll cross examine us and we need to make sure the stories match, because there’s no way they’ll trust any young offenders on our own. And we have to do something with the body before putrefication really sets in and the smell comes.”

Inej didn’t rematerialise. A veiled threat of another pinch, Kaz realised. He almost had to smile. Nina and Jesper both looked a little gobsmacked, and it dawned on Kaz that that was by far the longest string of words they’d heard Inej say at once.

“Fine.” He thought he saw a dark ripple of her hair, but it was nothing more than a mirage- a tease, he would have said, if it were Nina-” and she was gone again. “We will have veiled identities, but we will refer to each other exclusively by our true, God-given birth names. Kaz, Jes, Nina, Inej, Posh Boy, and Barry.”

“That’s not my name,” Matthias said.

“It’s fine, man,” Jesper says. “You can go by your middle name instead. Kaz does, which is why he’s referred to by the diminutive form of Kazzmatazz, instead of his first name, Demon.”

The clock on the wall hit five. Nina immediately started stripping off the required orange uniform jumpsuit, giving Matthias a good look at her cleavage.

“Don’t play with the poor boy,” Nina said. “He might almost believe we’ve all been possessed. Now has anyone seen where I left my bus ticket, lipgloss, and the half a hazelnut kitkat i saved from lunch?”

The wind, the unknowing observer would think, blew the ticket, tube of gloss, and wrapper, emptied, right back in Nina’s face.

#the soc misfits au #my writings #oh this felt like such a fun throwback for me too writing the Six of Crows characters!#thank you so much for this message agaon #anon #six of crows #kaz brekker #inej ghafa

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haberdashing · 4 years

Text

Unraveling All The Mystery

TMA mental time travel AU; Jon gives the rest of the original archives crew an explanation for his erratic behavior. Inspired by this post and this fic of it.

on AO3

“Jon...”

“...this is an intervention.”

Jon couldn’t help but burst into laughter when he heard those words.

He’d known something was up when all three archival assistants had joined him at once in his office early that morning, had half-suspected that they were going to ask in unison about how he had been acting different ever since he had the memories of his future self (well, of his no-longer-future self, hopefully) dumped into his head, but that phrasing...

It reminded Jon of an entirely different “intervention” directed his way, and while he knew he needed to take this situation seriously, it was still a far sight for being confronted for stalking his coworkers and accusing them of murder.

(To be fair, two of the four people he’d seen as murder suspects at the time had in fact killed someone, but Jon knew well enough that that didn’t entirely excuse his actions.)

Martin’s brows furled together in that way Jon had always secretly found adorable as he asked, “What’s so funny?”

Jon tried his best to school his expression back into something approximating neutral before he replied. “It’s... it’s a long story.” Technically true, that, though he knew it wouldn’t get him far to say that alone, knew he wasn’t the only one here hungry for answers (at least metaphorically speaking). “Never mind that. What is this... ‘intervention’ regarding?”

Sasha, Martin, and Tim all exchanged a look that Jon couldn’t quite decipher for a silent moment before Sasha spoke up.

“All three of us have noticed that you haven’t been acting like yourself lately.”

And of course it was Sasha telling him this. Sasha who he had two sets of memories of now, one of the real her and one of a being that had taken her place, the two already starting to blur together in his mind when he wasn’t face to face with the real thing.

Jon knew that her point was a fair one, but he still wanted to know more, wanted to know what exactly had changed, what had revealed to the rest of the world his internal change, wanted to know if it was something Jonah Magnus might have already noticed, so he raised an eyebrow and asked, “How so?”

Tim blurted out “weird” right as Martin blurted out “nice,” with Sasha waiting a beat before adding, “Weirdly nice.”

“...fair enough.” Jon could feel a smile sneaking back onto his face as he spoke. “I do know what you’re referring to there, and I, I do want to explain it all to you, but... do you mind if we take this conversation- er, this ‘intervention’ elsewhere?”

“...this is your office.”

“Exactly. Hardly neutral ground, is it?” Especially with Jonah Magnus doubtlessly watching their every move from his office, but Jon wasn’t very well going to mention that bit... “How about we go to that ice cream parlor we went to for Martin’s birthday? My treat.”

Sasha eyed Jon warily. “I had breakfast two hours ago.”

“Are you really going to turn down an offer of free ice cream and answers because of that?”

The three assistants exchanged a few pointed glances and slight shrugs before Tim said with a wide grin that may or may not have been entirely genuine, “You had me at ‘free ice cream.’”

“Glad to hear it.”

Jon got up and grabbed his bag, but before he could finish leading the way out of the Archives, a thought occurred to him. “Somebody bring a digital recording device with--laptop, phone, whatever, just so long as it’s digital. This won’t be a statement per se, but talking about it all will probably mess up the recordings as badly as the real statements do, and maybe that’ll help prove that this truly is the supernatural at work.”

There was a brief silence for a moment before Martin asked, “Jon, what d’you mean by real statements?”

“You know what I mean.” Jon sighed softly. “The ones with something solid to them, the ones you can’t easily rationalize away... not that I haven’t tried. They never record digitally.”

“I’ll go get a camera then.” Sasha darted away, and as she did, Jon could practically feel Martin and Tim’s gazes boring into him.

“So you do know there’s a difference.” Tim said.

“I didn’t think you believed any of them!” Martin added.

Jon sighed again. “I’ve... I’ve always believed in the supernatural. Well, perhaps not always, but for decades now, long before I got hired by the Institute. That’s why I wanted to work here in the first place. The skeptic act was always just that. An act, because it felt safer than the alternative.”

The awkward silence that followed was broken only by Sasha returning triumphantly, camera in hand. “Got it!”

“Great, let’s go.”

For a moment or two, as Jon’s feet obediently traced their way towards the ice cream parlor despite part of his brain insisting that it’d been years since he’d been to the place, Jon thought that was that.

Then Martin spoke up, his voice tentative but clear. “Care to share why you started believing in the supernatural, then?”

“Not particularly.” Jon paused, considered his options a bit more. He needed to be open with them, to trust them, he knew that, but... but that didn’t make talking about supernatural childhood trauma any easier. “Let’s just say it has to do with my distaste for both Leitners and spiders and leave it at that.”

Martin scrunched up his nose, and Jon’s heart ached at the sight of it. “Fair enough.”

The ice cream parlor wasn’t terribly busy this time of day, which was probably for the best, as Jon figured the less chance of being overheard, the better. After a bit of teasing and decision-making, Jon paid for the order as he’d promised, with both him and his assistants getting one scoop of ice cream each (though Tim had jokingly threatened to buy a scoop of every flavor the place had to offer just because Jon would have to foot the bill).

“What’s with you and rum and raisin ice cream, anyway?”

Jon glared at Tim. Tim glared back.

“What do you mean? It’s good.”

“If you’re eighty years old and have no taste buds left, maybe. Seriously, if you made an objective ranking of ice cream flavors-”

“That’s literally impossible, Tim, everybody has different preferences-”

Tim raised his voice a bit as he spoke over Jon. “Then you know that in dead last would be-”

“Anything with marshmallows in it?”

Martin looked up from his scoop of rocky road, pointing his spoon at Jon accusingly. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Jon couldn’t quite look Martin in the eye as he continued, so he focused his gaze on Tim instead. “The texture is all wrong for mixing with ice cream, they’re disgustingly sweet, and do you know what marshmallows are made out of? Because I don’t consider that appetizing, especially in a dessert context.”

Martin scrunched up his face again. “...I try not to think about it.”

“So we’ve established that Jon’s taste in ice cream is just wrong in general, I see.” Sasha chimed in.

“Exactly! We weren’t discussing Martin’s taste in ice cream here-” Tim started to gesture wildly with his own spoon, flecks of moose tracks coming perilously close to falling off as he flailed it around. “We’re discussing Jon’s, and specifically how horrible it is.”

“Technically, we didn’t come here to discuss anybody’s taste in ice cream.”

“Said like a man who still hasn’t explained what the deal is with him and rum and raisin.”

Jon weighed the pros and cons of trying to change the subject more forcefully versus just flat-out telling the truth before settling on the latter.

“My grandmother used to buy it for me as a treat. We’d sit side by side on the couch and share a pint as we watched nature documentaries on the telly. It was as close to a family tradition as we had, I suppose.”

“Oh.” Tim’s gaze softened a bit. “Alright, I’ll give you that one.”

“So it’s not because you’re eighty and have no taste buds, it’s because your grandmother was?” Sasha added.

“Hey!”

Sasha stuck out her tongue, turned bright pink from the strawberry ice cream she was eating, her expression clearly unapologetic.

“Can we talk about what we’re actually here to talk about now?”

Jon’s voice came out a little louder than he had intended, and his near-shouting seemed to shut down the friendly banter that had been surrounding him in one fell swoop. Sasha closed her mouth, a few awkward glances were exchanged (none of which were directed at Jon himself), and silence fell.

“...sure thing, Jon. Go right ahead.” Martin eventually replied.

“Start the camera, please?”

Sasha futzed with the camera for a few seconds before nodding and shooting Jon a thumbs-up. Before Jon could speak up, though, Tim beat him to the punch.

“Statement of Joe Spooky, regarding-”

Jon pressed one hand against his temple, though he was struggling to hold back a laugh as he did so. “I told you, Tim, this isn’t a statement. Not a proper one, anyway. We’re damn well not going to be filing it away in the archives, at least.”

Even with his hand half-covering his eyes, Jon could see Tim’s raised eyebrow and amused expression clearly enough. “Not even going to mention the Joe Spooky bit?”

“Wasn’t planning on it, no.” Though Jon couldn’t help but think of the other time Tim had grabbed a recording device and made a joke about the statement of Joe Spooky... but that was why he had to explain all of this, so that they could work together, so that they could prevent Prentiss’ attack on the Archives and all the horrible things that had followed it the first time around.

“Smart man, knows better than to quibble with some quality wordplay.”

“That’s not wordplay, Tim.” Sasha interjected. “That’s not even a pun, just a first name and the word ‘spooky.’”

“Like I said, quality wordplay right there.”

“Please let me actually talk about this?”

Once again, as Jon spoke up, the others went eerily silent. Jon set his hands on the table as he weighed his next words.

“So, do you want to hear my explanation first, or the proof I have to back it up?”

Tim spoke up first. “Proof first. Given how much you’re building this up, I doubt I’ll believe any of it before you’ve given me a reason to believe this isn’t just some elaborate prank.”

“Usually you’d be the one pranking me, not the other way around. I’m not exactly the pranking type.”

Tim shrugged slightly. “Well, maybe you’ve finally snapped, decided to get your revenge by launching a prank for the ages.”

Jon thought about disputing the idea that he would ever prank one of his assistants, let alone Tim--Tim who he knew from back in Research, Tim who was his friend, Tim who probably knew him better than anyone in the Institute (Jonah Magnus notwithstanding)--but decided against it. “Fine, so that’s one vote for proof first. Anyone else?”

Martin raised his hand before speaking, as if he were still back in primary school, and Jon knew that there had been a time not that long ago when he would have made that very comparison in an attempt to dismiss Martin, in an attempt to prove that at least he was more mature and competent than one of his coworkers. But that time had come and gone now, and Jon was just grateful that Martin was willing to take turns rather than everybody trying to speak over everybody else all at once. “Er, I’d rather have the story first, personally. Hard to establish proof if we don’t know what’s being proven to begin with.”

“Alright, well, that leaves you with the deciding vote, Sasha.” Jon pointed at Sasha, using his finger rather than his spoon for the gesture.

Sasha shoved a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth right as Jon pointed her way, dramatically drawing out her consumption of it before finally swallowing and saying with a mouth still tinged bright pink, “I say proof first. Between working in Artefact Storage and in the Archives, I’ve heard more than my fair share of horror stories; I’d like to know we can trust you, trust that you’re not some creepy doppelganger or something, before we get to the meat of whatever this is.”

Jon nodded. “Very well. Proof first it is.” Jon drummed his fingers on the table for a moment as he thought. “I can’t directly prove what’s happened since there’s no physical evidence, but I can prove that I know things about each of you that you haven’t told me, things that I have no way of knowing unless something supernatural is going on.”

“Go for it, boss.”

“Tim, I... god, there’s no easy way to say this, is there... I know what happened to Danny.”

Tim’s whole body tensed up at the mention of Danny’s name, and he glanced over at Sasha briefly, the two evidently having a silent conversation through facial expressions and minute gestures. Once, Jon would have been able to Know what it was they were saying, Know the meaning of each wink of the eye or tilt of the head, but now he could only make a few educated guesses.

“I know the whole story about your trip to Covent Garden Theatre, and your run-in with Joseph Grimaldi there. I know you want revenge on the circus more than anything in the world, even your own life. I’ll make sure you get that revenge, that the circus is destroyed, though hopefully this time you won’t be lost in the process. And I’m... I’m sorry for your loss.”

Tim blinked rapidly a few times, shifting his gaze from Sasha to Jon. His spoon fell from his hand into his cup of ice cream, though he didn’t seem to notice it, even when a few flecks of mostly-melted ice cream fell onto his shirt. “...shit.”

“Wait, you know about that?” Sasha said, tilting her head slightly to one side.

“I do now. Due to... well, I’ll tell you the story, but I don’t think I’m quite finished with the proof bit yet.”

“Right. Well, keep at it, I suppose.”

“Of course. Sasha...” Jon reached out to grab his own hair, but ended up with more empty air than actual strands of hair in his grasp. How had his hair ever been this short? “I wish I knew more about you, the, the real you. Besides arguing about how to pronounce calliope-”

“Cal-ee-OH-pee.” Sasha corrected, a weak grin on her face.

“Ca-LIE-oh-pee-” Jon returned Sasha’s grin with one of his own, one that he wasn’t sure he could stifle even if he tried. “And your distaste for Artefact Storage, though that apparently won’t stop you from going there in an emergency... Terrible idea, by the way. Don’t go in Artefact Storage, and especially don’t go check out that web table alone.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Sasha shivered exaggeratedly at the thought.

“But I, I do know, actually, that you and Tim have talked about how you’re more qualified to be head archivist than I am, that you should’ve been the one to get the position instead of me.”

This time, Sasha was the one to start the silent conversation between her and Tim.

“And honestly? You’re absolutely right. I came across a tape Gertrude left for her successor--far too late for it to help me directly--and she made it very clear that she expected that successor to be you, Sasha.”

Sasha stopped her silent conversation with Tim to stare at Jon. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. And based on what I now know, it’s entirely possible Elias chose me in part because you really would have been better at this job than I am.” Jon punctuated the statement with a sharp, bitter laugh.

“Why would Elias do that, though?” Martin asked.

“That ties in to the bigger picture stuff a fair bit, but suffice it to say that when Elias was looking for an Archivist, he had a lot more in mind for the position than actually taking care of the files in the Archives. There’s a reason Gertrude left it in such disarray, and there’s a reason he has so many inane rules about how to go about organizing what remains.”

“So he’s sabotaging the place?” Tim looked a little less shaken than he had been a moment ago, though he still hadn’t cleaned up the ice cream staining his shirt and was now fiddling absentmindedly with his spoon, half-eaten ice cream forgotten.

“Essentially, yes.”

Tim snorted. “Explains a few things, actually.”

Martin raised his hand again. “D’you have any spooky impossible knowledge about me, then?”

Jon laughed, loud and long. “Martin... the question isn’t whether I know anything about you, the question is where to start.” Jon shook his head, rapping his spoon against his cup as he considered what to say next.

“I know... I know you lied on your CV to get in here, that you don’t even have a degree, let alone the Master’s in parapsychology that you claimed to have. I know that you don’t have a middle name, middle initial notwithstanding. I know you’ve got a second tape recorder stashed away in document storage, that you use it to record poetry you wrote, because you think it gives a, a certain lo-fi charm to the recordings...”

“H-hang on a minute!” Martin’s face was red, but Jon didn’t think it was entirely out of embarrassment this time, and Tim and Sasha had their shoulders raised, as if they felt they were being attacked somehow...

“...oh, that sounds bad, doesn’t it? I promise this- this isn’t me calling you out, or, or attacking you, you don’t need to get defensive about all this-”

“Really?” Martin sounded skeptical; Jon couldn’t really blame him.

“For one thing, I couldn’t fire you even if I wanted to. And for another, I absolutely, positively don’t want to. Martin Blackwood, you’re stuck here with us for the long haul.”

“Great.” There was a sharp sarcasm to Martin’s tone, but Jon elected to ignore it.

“I also know that... that you notice a lot more than people think, that you do a lot more than people give you credit for. Including me. Especially me. I’ve taken you for granted... all of you, really, but especially you, Martin. And I’m sorry about that, I really am. I know better now, I swear.”

“...thanks?”

“Don’t mention it. Literally, don’t mention any of this when we’re in the Institute. I don’t want to risk Elias overhearing what I’m going to tell all of you.”

“Elias doesn’t come down to the Archives that much...”

Jon shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Still don’t talk about it.”

“Fine. Won’t mention it.”

“Good.” Jon took a deep breath and let it out before saying, “Proof?”

A few more glances were exchanged between the three assistants before all three nodded in agreement. “Proof.”

Sasha adjusted her glasses slightly before asking, “So what exactly is it you’re proving to us, then?”

“I, uh.” Well. No use beating around the bush. It was going to sound ridiculous no matter what, but hopefully he’d done enough to establish beforehand that he wasn’t just imagining things or making things up. Hopefully he’d done enough that they wouldn’t dismiss his experience the way he’d dismissed so many others.

“I have memories of the future.”

“You’re talking about time travel?” Sasha says, the bright gleam of her eyes visible even though her glasses.

“Not exactly--I didn’t physically go back in time, just, just mentally, just the memories I shouldn’t have yet.” Jon stared down at his hand, the same hand which he clearly remembered being covered in scars from worms and flames and stabbing, but was now utterly unblemished. “And they’re not... not memories of this future. I mean, I didn’t have this conversation before, it doesn’t work quite like that. I remember a future where I didn’t have these memories to work with--so it’d be some sort of changing or branching timeline, not, not a stable time loop...”

“I see.” Tim’s expression suggested otherwise, suggested that despite what his words might suggest he was caught somewhere between confusion and disbelief.

“I suddenly got these memories overnight not long after Martin...” Jon hesitated, unsure how to delicately phrase the next bit of what he had to say, how to refer to Prentiss’ siege on Martin’s flat without risking upsetting Martin in the process. “...started living in the Archives. So I imagine that’s when I started acting weird, or, or nice, or weirdly nice, or however you want to put it. I don’t know why it happened then, exactly, but maybe it has something to do with me growing into my role as Archivist--late enough that I’m already getting comfortable in the position, but hopefully early enough that I can prevent the worst of it from happening all over again.”

Martin held up his hand, though less in a way reminiscent of a primary schooler and more in a way reminiscent of such a child’s crossing guard telling an oncoming car to stop. “I’m sorry, I was trapped in my flat for almost a fortnight, under siege by, by some sort of flesh worm hive thing--are you honestly saying that’s not ‘the worst of it’?”

Jon laughed and shook his head brusquely. “I wish it were, Martin, but unfortunately that’s just the tip of the iceberg here.”

Sasha tilted her head to one side, some strands of hair falling into her face as she did so. “What’s the iceberg then?”

“Well, there’s a lot of it, as the metaphor rather implies, but I’ll try to keep it short... Prentiss attacks the Institute-”

Martin’s face visibly paled at the mention of Prentiss’ name, and Jon scrambled to reassure him.

“Even in the future I remember she didn’t directly kill anyone, and I’ll make damn sure she doesn’t get a chance to do so this time around, but, well, that is what happened. And when Prentiss attacks, Sasha runs over to Artefact Storage, messes with the web table when nobody else is around, and gets killed and replaced by the monster bound to it.”

Jon started to put one finger out for each major event he lists off, as if keeping a tally, though he has no idea what the final count should be.

“Martin finds Gertrude’s body in the tunnels. I accidentally release the thing that replaced Sasha when I meant to kill it, and it almost kills me in turn. I get framed for murder, get kidnapped three separate times within a few months. Tim stops the circus from completing their ritual, but blows himself up in the process. Martin almost gets lost to the Lonely. I accidentally end the world, try to make it better, can’t make it better, send my memories back right as everything’s entirely going to shit. There’s more to it, but those are the most important events, at any rate.”

At least, they’re the most important events relating to Martin, Sasha, and Tim. No need to tell them about things like Melanie getting shot by ghosts in India, or Daisy getting stuck in the Buried. The big picture is complicated enough as it is.

“...I know you’ve made a few cock-ups in your time, boss, but ending the world is a new one even for you.”

Jon couldn’t bring himself to laugh, or even to meet Tim’s eyes, instead staring down at the sad dregs of his ice cream, long since melted. “It’s really not funny. Billions of people--just about everybody in the world--were suffering, stuck in a seemingly-endless torment, and it was all my fault.”

Martin bit his lip anxiously for a moment before speaking up. “I’m sure it wasn’t all your fault.”

Martin’s words brought a slight smile to Jon’s face, but he still shook his head in response. “It was. Trust me, Martin, it really was my doing. We had this argument enough after it actually happened... rather than discuss that further, I’d rather focus on preventing it this time around.”

“Do you have an actual plan for making sure the world doesn’t end for us, then?”

Jon looked up, looking into Sasha’s dark eyes, before breaking into laughter and grinning.

“What exactly do you think I’ve been doing all this time?”

#tma #tma au #tma fic #tma fanfic #the magnus archives #the magnus archives au #the magnus archives fic #the magnus archives fanfic #personal #my writing

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