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#truly childhood coded in the best way

bwabys-scenarios · 5 months

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NSFW

He was your loyal, attentive knight. You had been childhood friends, ever since you saved him after sneaking out of the palace walls. Since then, he had been training so one day, he could take care of you.

At first, he saw you as what you were, the princess he was meant to serve. You were intelligent, beautiful, and most importantly you were kind. Your people loved you, and you loved them.

And you loved him too, a fact you would share daily throughout your childhoods. When he started training to be a knight at the young age of 10, you were always there to bandage him up and let him lay his head in your lap after a tough day. You were both children, but he clung to you like a child would his mother. He was often scolded by the maids and senior knights for his clingy behavior. You were the princess and he was getting too old to be staying so close.

He would be a teenager soon, which meant the days of childhood innocence and days of fun spent with his princess would be over. Once she turned 13, she wouldn’t be able to interact with any males besides her personal knight.

He worked his way up the chain, seeing you in secret when he could manage. You missed him, and as the years passed by his innocent, platonic love was starting to shift into something more… lustful. He caught himself staring when you bent over to pick up your fallen books, his eyes following your plump hips as you walked away.

No, he couldn’t see you that way. It was against his code of conduct, his knightly duty was to protect you and your innocence so that you could find a suitable husband one day and bear an heir to the throne.

But at knight, when he laid along in his chambers, he would stroke his hardened cock to the thought of filling you with his seed, claiming you both body and soul. It was a nasty, sinful thought he had to keep to himself, he knew that.

It was hard though, when you were just so tempting.

It took him 6 years to become your own personal knight. You were 19 years old now, marrying age. He held you to his chest as you sobbed at night with the knowledge that you would have to marry someone you didn’t love.

He tried his best to comfort you and push away his feelings of love and lust, but god did it get difficult when you begged him to help you escape. He should have refused and reported your urge to flee to the king… but he didn’t.

“I’ll help you escape, but… I need to ask you a question first.”

You nodded, clinging to him desperately as his hands ran over your hair. “My princess, you… cry as if you are already in love. Could I know the person who has won your heart?”

It hurt him to ask this, making his own heart wrench painfully. You nodded, sniffling slightly as you look up him through tear filled eyes, your cheeks warm. “Yes… it’s you. I love you, I have for years… being apart from you has been so hard… please, I don’t want to marry anyone else but y-“

Before you could finish your sentence, he had already pinned you down, his lips pressing into yours. That was all he needed to hear, he would be claiming you for his own now, and as soon as he was done he’d be stealing you away.

“Mine… my princess, my everything…”

He spent the night worshipping your body, making sure you knew just how much he truly loved you. He fucked into you, his finger rubbing soft, attentive circles into your needy clit. It didn’t take long for him to fill your womb with his seed, making you his and his alone for all eternity.

He had deflowered his princess, taking her virginity and her innocence, the exact opposite of what a knight was supposed to do, but he didn’t care anymore. You were his princess, yes, but you were also his first and only love.

And he would never let you go.

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||GOJO ||GETO || NANAMI ||CHOSO ||KURAPIKA ||LEORIO ||CHROLLO ||ARMIN ||EREN ||JEAN ||REINER ||RENGOKU ||GIYUU ||OBANAI ||SANEMI ||YOUR FAV ||

1K notes · View notes

sunkissed-zegras · 7 months

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✮ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡, jack hughes

♡ ─ word count | 10.7k (WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. UM?? MB?? got a bit carried away with this one sorry y'all)

♡ ─ summary | y/n had always been in love with jack since she was a kid, but he had always chosen everyone else but her.

♡ ─ warnings | kind of mark estapa x reader as well but guess who she chooses in the end??? unedited (i'll edit in the morning y'all i just wanna get this out ASAP) SOOO MUCH ANGST OML, childhood best friends trope, unrequited love (for the most part), description of sex (like two sentences u could blink and it's gone), lots of cursing, fighting (sm of it), asshole!jack, idk they may be more but i'm lazy (promise they're not bad if i'm not mentioning them rn)

♡ ─ taglist | @valluvsu (check link in navigation for taglist form if you are interested!)

♡ ─ ev's notes | WHOOOHOOO! it's finally done yayyaa, i got this done in like two days bc i was so excited. jack hughes is very much gold rush coded, pls argue with the wall if you disagree. but anyway! this is a long one, so strap in!!! so much feelings in one fic lol i'm done, but i'm actually very proud of myself. as always, i'm open to respectful critics as i love to improve my writing for you all!! anyways, pls enjoy this fucking novel LMAOO, and let me know your thoughts!!!

Jack Hughes had always been the most beautiful person you'd ever seen.

Not just physically, he'd always been one of the sweetest people you'd ever met. He genuinely cared about how you were feeling and listened attentively when you spoke. His kindness and compassion were qualities that drew you to him from the very beginning.

But it wasn't just his sweet personality that captivated you; it was the way he looked at you with those mesmerizing eyes, filled with warmth and kindness. Whenever he gazed into your eyes, it felt like he was seeing straight into your soul, understanding you in a way that no one else ever had. But never in the way that you wanted.

Every time he smiled, it lit up the room any room he was in, and your heart simultaneously. His laughter was infectious, and being around him brought a sense of joy and happiness that was unparalleled.

He'd always been the special one in the room, with his skills on the ice or his undeniable beauty. It wasn't Jack's fault that he had such an effect on people; it was simply a consequence of his charm and charisma. What sometimes made you feel inadequate was the way other girls looked at him, with admiration and longing in their eyes.

Every time you saw him with those adoring eyes gazing at another girl, it was like a dagger to your heart. What hurt most though, was the way he looked back at them. His gaze held a attraction and desire that you craved, but it was a warmth he reserved for them, not ever for you.

You couldn't fault him for it; he couldn't control where his heart led him. You watched him from a distance, silently cheering him on in his pursuits of happiness, even when it meant seeing him with someone else.

Yet, despite the pain it caused you, you couldn't help but be there for him when he needed it. Whenever he faced heartbreak or disappointment, you were the one he turned to for comfort and understanding. It was bittersweet, being the person he leaned on while secretly thinking how you could never ever hurt him the way those other girls did. Your heart ached every time he told you about his the girls, and you would listen attentively, offering advice and consolation. You wanted to be the one to mend his broken heart, to make him see that you were right there, loving him in a way no one else ever could. But you kept those feelings locked away, hidden beneath the guise of friendship.

And you knew he loved you, he truly did. He would just never love you the way you'd always wanted. You felt selfish for wanting more. He was already yours in some regard, others would dream of being that close to the Jack Hughes. You were already an important part of his life, someone he trusted and cared about. Being close to Jack Hughes in any capacity was a dream come true for most, and you felt incredibly fortunate to have him as a friend.

But deep down, you couldn't help the longing that tugged at your heartstrings. You couldn't help the desire for something more, something that went beyond friendship. It was a complex mix of emotions, and you grappled with the guilt of wanting something that might change the dynamic between you two.

It was hard seeing him repeating those mistakes over and over again, and him running back to you wishing he had someone to love him fully and truly, for who he was. You often found yourself on the verge of screaming, wanting to shout, "What about me? Don't you see what's right in front of you?!" But you remained silent, as you always did, playing the role of the understanding friend who listened without judgment.

And each time he came to you with a broken heart, you wished he could recognize the depth of your love, the unwavering support you offered, and the fact that you were right there, ready to love him fully and unconditionally. But it seemed that he was blind to your feelings, or perhaps he was simply too caught up in his own search for love to notice what was right in front of him.

It seemed everyone else saw how much you loved him, Quinn giving you sympathetic smiles and Luke giving you advice. They saw the way you looked at Jack when he wasn't watching, the way your eyes held a mixture of adoration and hurt. They noticed how you were always there for him, ready to offer a comforting word or a reassuring hug when he needed it the most. It wasn't just your words or actions that revealed your love; it was the unwavering presence you provided in his life.

And so, you continued to sit still and listen, even when every fiber of your being screamed for him to see you, to love you, and to choose you. Your love for him remained a silent, unspoken truth, buried deep within your heart as you watched him repeat his relationship mistakes, hoping that one day, he would finally realize the love that had always been right beside him.

He was always grateful for your presence and care until he wasn't. Until he started taking you for granted, choosing his shiny new friends over you.

The pain of unrequited love was compounded by the feeling of being cast aside, as if your friendship and support no longer held the same value they once did. You couldn't help but wonder if he had forgotten all the times you had been there for him, the countless moments you had shared.

It was a painful realization that the person you loved so deeply was no longer the same person who had once cherished you. And yet, you couldn't bring yourself to walk away, holding onto the hope that one day he would remember the bond you had shared and the love that had always been there, waiting for him to see.

──

"Where have you been?!" Ellen, Jack's mom, exclaimed as you walked into the Hughes' lake house. She immediately walked over to you, embracing you tightly.

Over the past couple months, you had declined numerous invitations to Hughes family events over the past couple of months. You had told them that school was taking up most of your time, which was partly true. In reality, you just didn't want to see Jack.

"Just busy with school," you replied, returning her embrace warmly. Ellen Hughes had always been like a second mother to you, and her genuine concern warmed your heart.

Ellen held you at arm's length, her kind eyes studying your face. "You know, you don't have to disappear just because of school, sweetheart. You're always welcome here, no matter what."

Her words tugged at your heartstrings. You knew the Hughes family cared about you deeply, and it pained you to distance yourself from them as well. "I appreciate that, Ellen. It's just been a hectic semester, but I promise I'll make more time for you guys."

The bond between you and the Hughes family ran deep. You had known Jack and his brothers since childhood, and your connection had only grown stronger over the years. You were there for them through thick and thin, and they, in turn, had become an integral part of your life. You'd been close with the family since you were young, you'd been there for the brothers since day one.

From building sandcastles at the beach during summer vacations to sharing secrets by the campfire during family camping trips, your memories with the Hughes brothers were countless. Ellen and Jim Hughes had always treated you like one of their own, and you felt a sense of belonging that was unmatched anywhere else.

As the years passed and feelings grew more complex, you found yourself at a crossroads. You had always been there for Jack, offering your support and friendship without reservation. However, as your feelings for him had deepened, it had become increasingly challenging to hide your true feelings. You couldn't risk damaging the close-knit relationship you had with the Hughes family, especially when you knew Jack didn't share the same romantic feelings.

So, you made the difficult decision to take a step back, to create some distance in the hope that you could regain control over your heart. It wasn't an easy choice, and it meant missing out on moments with the family that had become a second home to you.

Ellen smiled, her eyes twinkling with understanding. "We've missed you, sweetheart. And I know someone else who's been missing you too."

Your heart skipped a beat at her words, and you couldn't help but wonder if Jack had noticed your absence more than you had expected.

"Luke! Sweetheart, look who's decided to show up!''

Oh, you've gotta be kidding me. Of course it wasn't Jack.

Your heart sank as Luke, Jack's younger brother, bounded into the room with excitement. You were confused, you loved Luke equally as Jack (you tried to convince yourself), but Luke wasn't exactly the most enthusiastic person when it came to you. Now, you knew something was up.

"Hey, you," Luke said with a warm smile, giving you a bear hug that nearly squeezed the air out of your lungs.

"Hey, Lukey," you replied, returning his hug with a raised eyebrow. Luke's behavior was unusual, and you couldn't help but wonder if something was going on.

As Luke pulled away, he scrutinized your expression. "You've been MIA for a while. School must really have you swamped."

You nodded, not trusting your voice to betray the mix of emotions you were feeling. Luke was perceptive, and you wondered if he had picked up on your recent distance.

Thankfully, Ellen chimed in, rescuing you from the awkward moment. "Well, we're just glad she's here now! Dinner will be ready soon, so you two catch up while I finish up in the kitchen."

With that, Ellen left you and Luke alone, and you couldn't shake the feeling that Luke's sudden warmth and attention meant that something was amiss in the Hughes household.

"What's up?" You cleared your throat, looking at Luke with a knowing expression.

"Well we all know why you've been really gone," Luke sighed as he glared at you. "You don't have to cut us all of just because Jack got a girlfriend."

"Jack got a girlfriend?" That felt like a dagger to the stomach. Luke's expression, once irritated, softened into one of sympathy as he nodded slowly.

"He didn't... tell you?"

You shook your head, struggling to find your voice. A whirlwind of emotions swirled within you – hurt, confusion, and the sting of betrayal. Jack hadn't confided in you about something as significant as this, and it hurt more than you cared to admit.

"Who is she?" you finally managed to ask, your voice a mere whisper.

Luke hesitated, as if debating how much to reveal. "Her name's Nicole," he began cautiously. "They've been dating for a few months now. It's been pretty serious, which is probably why he didn't want to... you know, complicate things."

You listened to Luke's explanation about Jack and Nicole while a storm of emotions raged within you. The pain of knowing Jack was in a serious relationship was difficult to bear, and the fact that he hadn't told you himself only added to your hurt. You felt like an outsider in his life, someone he had pushed aside.

But then, Luke's words took an unexpected turn, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "But that doesn't matter now, you have to move on and I have the perfect guy for you," he said, his tone surprisingly enthusiastic.

Oh, now everything made sense. It was clear that Luke had an ulterior motive, and you couldn't help but feel a little exasperated. "Luke, I appreciate your concern, but I don't think I'm ready for that kind of thing right now," you replied, trying to be polite even though you didn't appreciate the idea of being set up with one of his friends.

They were all fuck-boys from what you've heard. Luke would go into great detail every time you'd call him for an update. You had heard enough stories about Luke's friends to know that they were often more interested in casual relationships than anything serious.

"They were all fuck-boys from what you've told me," you said with a wry smile. Luke had a tendency to share his escapades in great detail, and you couldn't help but be amused by his candidness.

Luke chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, well, they can be a handful sometimes, but I promise this guy is different. He's actually a pretty decent guy, and I think you'd get along. Would I ever set you up for failure, Y/N?"

You raised an eyebrow, still skeptical. "And what's in it for you, Luke? Why are you so invested in setting me up with your friend?"

Luke's expression shifted, and for a moment, he looked genuinely serious. "Because I hate seeing you like this, distant from the family and hurting because of Jack. I just want you to be happy."

His words touched your heart, and you couldn't help but soften a bit. Luke may have had ulterior motives, but it seemed that his concern for your well-being was genuine.

"And um, well, I have a thing for his cousin." Luke cleared his throat and you couldn't help but playfully roll your eyes.

A playful smile tugged at your lips as Luke admitted his own motives. "Ah, I see how it is. A bit of matchmaking for both of us, then?"

Luke grinned, his boyish charm on full display. "Exactly! We help each other out, and everyone's happy."

You chuckled, feeling a sense of warmth and camaraderie with Luke. "Alright, fine Luke. Jeez, the things I do for you."

Luke laughed, appreciating your willingness to humor him. "You're the best, Y/N. You won't regret it, I promise."

──

Dinner had been ready and Ellen decided dinner would be fun outside. The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the lake, and the sound of crickets filled the air as the family gathered around a long, rustic wooden table set up on the deck, the same one they'd had a decade ago, when you were children.

You took a seat next in between Luke and Jim, Quinn across from you two and Jack nowhere to be found. Before you could ask, your question was answered.

"Where's Jack?" Ellen asked as she sat next to her husband.

"With Nicole," Luke and Quinn had mumbled in response as they both took knowing glances at you. You couldn't help but sigh, would you always be known the girl who's helplessly in love with Jack?

"Wow, you really outdid yourself, Ellen with this chicken. What did you do?" You tried to change the topic with a smile, as you ate dinner.

Ellen beamed at your compliment, clearly pleased that you appreciated her cooking. "Oh, I found it on the TikTok, it was amazing and so easy! You should start making it, it's so easy for school."

The conversation shifted towards discussing recipes and school, and you found it easier to participate in the lighthearted chatter. As the evening went on, you made an effort to focus on the present moment, enjoying the warmth of the Hughes family and pushing aside thoughts of Jack and his new relationship.

After dinner, you and Quinn helped Ellen with the dishes and you found yourself in deep conversation with them. The warmth of their company, along with the shared memories and laughter, made you realize that distancing yourself from the Hughes family wasn't the right course of action. They had been a significant part of your life for so long, and you cherished the bond you shared with them.

You were so engaged in conversation that you didn't hear footsteps that entered the kitchen.

"Hey,"

The sound of the familiar voice calling out "Hey" made your heart skip a beat. You turned around to find Jack standing there, a somewhat sheepish expression on his face. It had been a while since you'd seen him, and the mix of emotions stirred within you once more. And next to him, you assumed to be "Nicole." She looked sweet and you forced a smile at her.

"Hey," you replied, your voice friendly and polite as you acknowledged both Jack and Nicole. You couldn't help but notice the way they stood close to each other, the subtle intertwining of their fingers, and the affectionate glances they exchanged. It was a painful reminder of the gap that had grown between you and Jack.

"Hi, I'm Nicole," she introduced herself with a warm smile.

"Nice to meet you, Nicole. I'm Y/N," you replied, extending a hand for a friendly shake.

"Yeah, I know. These two don't ever stop talking about you." She laughed playfully and you felt heart start beating faster at the prospect of Jack talking about you to his girlfriend.

"Well it was mostly me─" Quinn tried to intervene before you laughed along with her, he was trying to soften the blow.

"Really? Well that's sweet," you replied with a warm smile, even though a small part of you wished Jack would stop talking about you to his girlfriend. It was a complex blend of emotions, wanting to be close to him but also wanting to distance yourself from the heartache.

Ellen smiled, "Well now that you're here, you all can finish the dishes and catch up,"

You nodded, "Okay, sure. Go relax, Ellen."

"Yep, and me." Before you could protest, Quinn left. He certainly didn't want to be there once you started "catching up." You cursed at Quinn in your head as he left the kitchen, alone with Jack and his girlfriend.

The clinking of dishes filled the kitchen as you, Jack, and Nicole worked together on the task at hand. You decided to break the silence with some light conversation.

"So, Nicole, how did you and Jack meet?" you asked, genuinely curious about their relationship.

Nicole smiled, her eyes lighting up. "We actually met at one of his hockey games. My friend had an extra ticket, and I've always been a fan of hockey, so I decided to go. I didn't know I'd end up meeting Jack Hughes in person but now, here we are!"

Jack nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it was a lucky coincidence. We hit it off right away."

"That's so sweet, right out of a book." You laughed and she nodded, blushing. You couldn't help but smile at their story, even though it felt like a bittersweet reminder of what could never be. You were genuinely happy for Jack, and yet, a part of you couldn't help but wish for a different outcome.

Nicole blushed at your comment, clearly smitten with Jack. "Yeah, it does feel a bit like a fairy tale sometimes," she admitted.

"So, Y/N, what have you been up to lately?" Jack cleared his throat, breaking the conversation away from their relationship. You both gazed at one another and you suddenly felt empty. It had never been like this between you two, he never asked what you'd been up to because he always known.

You forced a smile, your chest feeling heavy as you replied, "Oh, you know, just keeping busy with school and spending time with family." It was a vague response, deliberately leaving out the part about missing him. You didn't want to make things awkward, and you certainly didn't want to burden him with your own emotions.

Jack nodded, seemingly accepting your answer. "That's good to hear. School can be pretty demanding, I bet."

"Yeah, it keeps me on my toes," you replied, trying to keep the conversation light. It was becoming increasingly clear that the dynamic between you and Jack had changed, and it was going to take some time to adjust to this new reality.

Before he could respond, Luke came into the kitchen and he immediately looked like he regretted it. He forced a smile, "Um, is there any ice cream in the... fridge?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at Luke's somewhat awkward entrance. It was clear he was trying to give you and Jack some space, even though the tension in the room was palpable.

"Luke, you know where the ice cream is," you replied with a knowing look, amusement dancing in your eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I just... thought I'd ask," Luke stammered before quickly retreating from the kitchen, leaving you, Jack, and Nicole alone once more.

As the last dish was placed in the drying rack, you couldn't help but glance at Jack, his profile highlighted by the soft kitchen light. He turned to you with a smile.

"Anyways, Trevor and Alex are coming tomorrow, you excited to see them?" Jack added with a friendly tone, trying to bridge the awkward gap that had formed during your conversation.

You nodded, appreciating the effort he was making to include you despite the new circumstances. "Yeah, it'd be nice to catch up with them. I haven't talked to 'em in a while."

All three of you exited the kitchen and you went to go find Quinn to give him a lecture. That was until you felt your phone buzz with a text message,

luke my friends are here they wanna meet u

Before you could type your answer, Luke gave you another text.

lukejack and his gf aren't here. just come 😑

You rolled your eyes at his attitude and quickly went to go find him and his friends. You quickly found them by the pool and you opened the sliding door, his friends whipped their heads to take a look at you.

"Hey, Luke," you greeted him with a smile, momentarily ignoring the curious glances. "You wanted me to meet your friends?"

"Well you said yourself you wanted to meet 'em earlier," Luke nodded and you got the memo.

You nodded and smiled, deciding to go along with Luke's plan. After all, it was a chance to distract yourself from the complicated situation with Jack and his new girlfriend. Luke's friends seemed friendly enough, and you were always open to making new acquaintances.

"I'm pretty sure you've met Ethan and Dylan before,"

You nodded politely. You had met them when you had helped him move in a few months ago and they were nice enough. "Yeah, nice to see you guys again."

"Yeah, you too." They replied in union, making you laugh.

"And this is Mark," Luke glanced knowingly at you and you instantly knew that this was the guy who had developed a crush on you.

When Luke introduced Mark, you couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in his friends' expressions. It was clear that Mark's crush on you wasn't a well-kept secret among their group. You offered Mark a friendly smile, wanting to make him feel comfortable despite the awkwardness of the situation.

"Nice to meet you, Mark," you said, extending a hand for a handshake. "Luke's told me a lot about you guys."

Mark's cheeks turned a faint shade of pink as he shook your hand. "Yeah, he's talked about you too."

Luke sat back down and you took a seat next to him, right across from Mark. "Oh does he?" You teased him.

Luke, attempting to play it cool, shrugged nonchalantly. "Just mentioned how nice you are, no big deal."

Ethan and Dylan exchanged knowing glances, trying to suppress their laughter. It was evident to everyone at the table that there was more to Luke's mention than he let on.

"Nice?" You couldn't help but laugh and exchange glances with Mark, a grin on his face. He was cute, you had to admit that. He was exactly your type, he looked sweet and had a cute smile. Maybe Luke was a pretty good matchmaker, so far.

"Yeah, he told us how cool you were. And then he showed us your instagram and all of us fell in love," Ethan mentioned, quickly pausing and glancing at Mark before continuing. "Well not in love but we all thought you were pretty. Well, I mean you are but like-"

"I get it," You laughed at his nervous rambling. You took another glance at Mark and gave him a smile, his cheeks turning even redder (somehow).

The table erupted in laughter, and it was clear that everyone was having a good time. Even Mark seemed to have settled into the friendly atmosphere, and you couldn't deny the chemistry you felt with him. It was lighthearted and fun, a welcome distraction from the complicated feelings you had for Jack.

As the night wore on, you noticed that Ethan, Luke, and Dylan began to exchange glances and sharing quiet conversations. It was clear that they had some sort of plan in mind, and you couldn't help but wonder what they were up to. You decided to play along, knowing that whatever they had in store was likely meant to bring you and Mark closer and anything would help to make you forget about Jack.

"Hey, Mark, do you want to check out the lake?" you suggested, giving him a sweet smile. The lake house had always been a place of fond memories for you, and it would be a great opportunity to spend some time alone with Mark.

Mark's face lit up. "Sure, that sounds like a great idea, let's go."

You excused yourselves from the table, and as you walked towards the sliding glass door that led to the lake, you couldn't help but notice the mischievous smiles on Ethan, Luke, and Dylan's faces. They were clearly up to something, you tried to ignore their expressions.

Once outside, the two of you made your way down to the edge of the lake. The moon reflected on the calm water, casting a romantic glow.

"So, Y/N, tell me more about yourself," Mark began, his voice soft and inviting.

You smiled, feeling a sense of warmth in the cool summer night air. "Well, there's not much to tell, really." You chuckled before continuing, "Just trying to finish up school and move to Europe."

Mark's eyes widened with curiosity. "Europe? That sounds amazing. What's drawing you there?"

You gazed at the shimmering reflection of the moon on the lake, lost in thought for a moment. "I don't know, these past months have been hard. And I never thought about moving out of the states but recently, I just wanna let go and start fresh, you know?"

Mark nodded, understanding what you meant. "I get that, a change of scenery can help with that feeling."

You sighed, feeling a sense of relief in opening up to Mark. "Exactly. I just want to explore new horizons, experience different cultures, and maybe find a new perspective on life."

"I've always wanted to go to France, I know it's basic but I heard they had good hot chocolate and had to try it." Mark smiled down at you and you couldn't help but let out a soft laugh.

"That doesn't sound basic at all," you replied with a grin. "I would love to visit France, even if it is every person's dream."

Mark chuckled, his eyes locked onto yours. "Maybe we can both make our way to Europe someday. Who knows, our paths might cross in a cozy café in Paris."

The idea painted a vivid picture in your mind, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to indulge in the possibility. "That sounds like a dream."

A sudden breeze began to pick up and you felt yourself shiver and Mark noticed. Without saying another word, he took off his jacket and quickly wrapped it around your shoulder.

It was a cliche, you know that. But as you looked at Mark, you felt a sense of warmth that had nothing to do with the jacket. His kindness and consideration made your heart skip a beat, something you hadn't experienced in a while. You smiled at him gratefully, the cool breeze forgotten as you were wrapped in his warmth.

"Thank you, Mark," you said softly, your eyes meeting his. In that moment, under the moonlight by the lake, you felt a connection that was unlike anything you had experienced in a long time.

Mark smiled back at you, his eyes holding a glint of something more. "Anytime, Y/N."

As the night wore on, your conversation with Mark flowed effortlessly, you found yourself drawn further into Mark's world, and the thought of Jack and his complicated situation faded into the background even if only for that night. In Mark's company, you were starting to feel a glimmer of hope for the fresh start you had been yearning for.

──

You awoke with the sound of laughter. Your eyes opened groggily and you felt your back scream in pain and it took a minute to realize exactly where you were.

You laid on Mark's chest, a blanket laid out on the both of you. You were on the couch and the memories of last night quickly flooded back into your head.

"Aww, Marky, you got yourself a girlfriend finally!" Ethan exclaimed as Mark tried to cover your face with the blanket, an (failed) attempt to not to wake you. They hadn't noticed you were awake.

"Ha ha ha, so funny." Mark mumbled in false amusement as he yawned.

You decided to remain quiet, pretending to still be asleep, curious to hear how Mark would handle the situation. A smile stretched your lips as you continued to eavesdrop.

"Seriously though, Mark, she's pretty," Dylan chimed in. "You two looked really cozy last night."

"Yeah, yeah," Mark replied, his tone still somewhat defensive. "We were just talking. You guys are reading too much into it."

"Sure, Mark, whatever you say," Ethan teased, and you could practically hear the grin in his voice. "Just talking, my ass."

"My clothes are still on, right?" Mark groaned quietly. "Could you guys be quiet, she's sleeping."

"Awww, Marky!" Ethan let out a booming laugh and you took that as your cue to 'wake up.'

You let out a yawn and pushed down the blanket from your face and they all quieted down. "Good... morning?"

"You have a good sleep last night?" Ethan teased and you tried to ignore the warm feeling in your cheeks as you got up from the couch. Mark frowned as you got up, feeling his body get cool.

You stretched your arms and stifled another yawn before responding to Ethan's teasing. "Yeah, it was quite comfortable here, actually."

"I bet," Ethan replied as he wiggled his eyebrows and you rolled your eyes.

"Okay, well, I'm going to brush my teeth."

"Wait, let's go eat first." Mark quickly replied, making Dylan and Ethan exchange glances.

"Before... brushing my teeth?" You smiled at that. He was cute, for sure.

"Yeah, Mark, let her go brush her teeth. Knowing what you two did-"

"Shut up," Mark groaned as you let out a chuckle. "Yeah, go brush your teeth."

You nodded and walked away from the living room, quickly ascending up the stairs and into the bathroom. The smile hadn't left your face and you felt like absolutely nothing could ruin your mood.

Well, you were wrong.

As you brushed your teeth happily, you heard the familiar noise in the next room other. The rhythmic banging, the moaning─

Oh no, you thought to yourself. You felt your stomach twist in disgust as let out an audible gag. The room next to the bathroom was Jack's and the only couple in the entire house was Jack and Nicole. You connected the dots and you suddenly felt nauseous.

You spit your paste and quickly rinsed your mouth. You needed to get out of there immediately. As you walked out of the bathroom, you bumped into one person you did not want to see.

"Oh shoot, sorry."

You looked up to see Nicole. She looked tired, her red hair messy and her neck filled with marks. They were obviously busy last night and you tried to push the visual of them having sex out of your mind as you forced a smile. "No, you're totally good."

She smiled and gave your shoulder a pat before walking to the bathroom. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and let your shoulders fall as you walked down the stairs.

You smelled hash browns in the air, your favorite, but somehow you still felt sick to your stomach. The imagery was still stuck in your head, you felt disgusting.

You made your way to the dining table and took a seat next to Quinn, crossing your arms and he immediately knew what was wrong. Your disgusted facial expression, your annoyed attitude, everything.

"They're like fucking bunnies," Quinn mumbled to you and you looked back at him with a nod. He looked tired, too. It looked like they kept him up and you were suddenly grateful you slept downstairs, even with the ache in your lower back. He put a hand on your shoulder in comfort. "Hey, if it makes you better, he lasts about a few minutes. You wouldn't want that."

His unusual teasing tone still didn't make you better, you knew Quinn was trying his best to make you feel better. You forced a smile and nodded, "Yeah. That's gross."

"What's gross?"

You turned your head to see Jack; his disheveled appearance making you gag internally, knowing what you know. You made eye contact for a few seconds before averting your gaze to the table.

"Nothing, buddy." Quinn responded with a smirk and they both exchanged a laugh. Jack then, took a seat right across from you. Now you literally couldn't move your gaze anywhere else without making it obvious.

Quinn seemed determined to keep the mood light, though, and he continued with the banter. "I heard you and Mark spent the night together last night."

There was a pause and a few awkward glances before he continued, "Um, not like that."

Jack looked directly at you and he had unreadable expression on his face. Confusion? Annoyance? Jealousy? Maybe a mix of all three.

"Well, we just-"

Before you continue you heard Ethan and Dylan's booming laughter as they entered the dining room, plates in their hands. They immediately exchanged glances as they realized who was in the room before putting sitting down with their plates.

"Your mom has food in the kitchen, if you guys... want any." Ethan tried to diffuse the tension as he smiled and looked at Dylan. "Mark's in there, Y/N."

As you got up to find Mark, you couldn't help but exchange a glance with Jack. His expression was hard to decipher – there was a mix of emotions, but it was clear that the mention of you spending the night with Mark had affected him in some way. You couldn't dwell on it for too long, though, as you headed to the kitchen to find Mark.

In the kitchen, you found Mark helping himself to some breakfast. He looked up and gave you a warm smile as you entered. "Hey, good morning."

He quickly noticed your expression and he turned to you with confusion, "Everything okay?"

You nodded, trying to shake off the lingering discomfort from the dining room. "Yeah, just... things got a bit awkward in there. Thanks for last night, by the way."

Mark chuckled, handing you a plate of food. "No problem at all. It was fun."

As you both made your way back to the dining room, you couldn't help but wonder what the day had in store for you, especially with the lingering tension between you and Jack.

You sat down next to Quinn as Mark quickly made his way to the empty seat next to you. Finally, everyone started piling into the dining room and everyone started eating.

The atmosphere in the dining room remained tense as everyone continued eating. Nicole was sitting next to Jack and noticed the slight change in him, he seemed more... moody. You tried your best to focus on your plate and engage in conversation with those around you, but it was hard with Jack's presence so close.

As the meal progressed, you felt Jack's gaze on you, a burning sensation that you couldn't ignore. Finally, after a while, Jack spoke up, his tone casual as he said, "So, Y/N, Mark seemed like a nice guy. How long have you known him?"

Mark exchanged a glance between the two of you, choosing peace and continued to eat.

His seemingly innocent question struck a nerve. You knew he was deliberately bringing up Mark to gauge your reaction, and it irritated you. Trying to maintain your composure, you replied, "Just met last night."

Jack's eyebrows raised slightly, a hint of surprise in his expression as he processed your response. It seemed your terse reply had caught him off guard. Mark continued to eat quietly, not wanting to get caught up in the tension.

After a moment of silence, Jack cleared his throat, attempting to sound nonchalant but failing to hide a hint of sarcasm. "Well, you two certainly seemed close for people who just met." Before you could respond, he continued under his breath, "Didn't know you were that easy."

Quinn kicked Jack's leg under the table and Nicole seemed distressed, too.

You bit your tongue. You clenched your fork tightly, your frustration mounting. "We were just having a conversation, Jack. Is that not allowed?"

Jack's gaze didn't waver as he replied, "Of course it is, Y/N. Just making conversation here because apparently I don't know anything about you anymore."

That really struck a move. He didn't know anything about you anymore? Jack's words hit you like a dagger to the heart. The pain and frustration were evident in his tone, and you could sense the turmoil in his emotions. It was clear that your distancing had affected him more than you had realized.

The tension at the table was palpable as everyone watched the exchange between you and Jack. Quinn cleared his throat, trying to mediate. "Guys, can we not do this right now?"

You felt yourself get more heated as you heard Ellen say something but you couldn't even comprehend it, that's how angry you were. Without thinking, you pushed your chair back and got up from the table. Your voice was strained with anger as you addressed Jack.

"Do you have no idea what it's been like for me, Jack?" You couldn't help but raise your voice, your pent-up emotions pouring out. "You just assume things and make stupid comments, but you don't know the half of it. This distance isn't just about you, it's about me trying to protect myself too."

The room was now filled with an uncomfortable silence, and it was clear that your outburst had taken everyone by surprise. Nicole placed a comforting hand on Jack's arm, silently pleading for him to let it go. Mark, too, looked uncomfortable, not wanting to be caught in the middle of this argument.

Jack's expression had shifted from surprise to a mix of anger and hurt as he absorbed your words. He clenched his jaw, clearly struggling to find the right response. Nicole's gentle touch on his arm seemed to be a calming influence, and he took a deep breath before speaking, his voice more controlled.

Ellen, sensing that the situation had become too tense, interjected again, her voice gentle but firm.

"Let's all take a step back, please? Y/N, sweetheart, maybe you could use a little breather, and we can all reconvene when things have calmed down."

You felt embarrassed as you looked around the room, all eyes seemingly on you and Jack. Feeling the weight of everyone's eyes on you, you nodded, your initial anger having dissipated into a mix of regret and awkwardness. You understood that your outburst had been uncharacteristic and uncomfortable with everyone there. With a forced smile, you mumbled an apology.

"Yeah, maybe I do need a little breather. Sorry about that, everyone." You turned away from the table and quickly exited the dining room. Outside, the fresh air greeted you, and you took a moment to collect your thoughts.

As you stood there, lost in thought, you couldn't help but wonder if there was any way to mend the growing rift between you and Jack, or if it was time to accept that things might never be the same again.

You stayed outside and spent the most of the day alone, outside in the pool trying to get a tan. The boys had all been playing pool inside and you were glad alone.

The sun beat down on you as you lounged by the pool, trying to soak in the warmth and forget about the tension from earlier. The sound of laughter from inside the house was a stark contrast to the solitude you sought outside.

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to clear your mind. The cool water of the pool offered a refreshing escape from the heat, and you decided to take a dip to cool off and clear your thoughts.

As you swam in the crystal-clear water, you couldn't help but replay the argument with Jack in your mind. It weighed heavily on your heart, and you wondered if there was a way to make amends and rebuild the bond you had once shared.

"Hey,"

You let out a yelp as you heard Mark's voice and he let out a soft laugh as he walked over to the pool, dipping his legs into the pool.

"Hey," you laughed, pushing a wet strand of hair out of your face. "Sorry, you scared me there."

Mark chuckled, the sound light and soothing. "No worries, didn't mean to sneak up on you. Just thought you could use some company."

You appreciated his gesture and nodded. "Thanks, Mark. It's been definitely been a... day."

He nodded in understanding, his gaze sympathetic. "I could tell. The argument with Jack didn't look fun."

You sighed, the weight of it all still pressing on you. "Yeah, it wasn't. Sorry about him throwing you in the middle of it, I don't know what's going on with him."

He stayed quiet as he listened and nodded. You looked at him, waiting for some kind of response. He looked like he was weighing something in his head. "Well... it seems like he's jealous."

Jealous? You blinked in surprise, not expecting Mark to say that. "Jealous? Why would he be jealous?" You knew why, but it hadn't even seemed like a possibility in your mind.

Mark had a thin-lipped smile as he continued, "I mean why else would be an absolute dick about me spending the night with you?"

You stayed quiet, you had no idea how to deal with this. Of course this would happen to you on what was supposed to be a peaceful lake-house trip.

"Can I ask you a question, Y/N? But you have to be 100% honest with me." Mark's tone seemed serious as he spoke and you felt your heart drop. "Have you and Jack ever hooked up? Or like, dated?"

"No," that was the true answer but it looked like Mark hadn't bought it. "Well, I've always liked him." It felt weird to admit that and Mark's expression looked hurt as you continued. "That's why I stopped talking to him. I realized it would never go anywhere and I was still living in my head, it would've never worked out with me and Jack."

Admitting it out loud hurt more than you expected. You would never work out with Jack, no matter how hard you wanted it to.

"You still like him?"

You weighed your options but as you looked at Mark and everything that could happen, you knew the right answer. "No."

──

"Y/N!"

You heard Trevor's excited shout and you turned around, you felt Trevor embrace you tightly. You let out a laugh as he continued hugging you tightly, it had been a couple months since you'd last seen him.

He was always just as close to you as Jack, he was your true best friend. He had been there for you when Jack wasn't.

"Trevor!" You returned his hug with equal enthusiasm, feeling a surge of warmth and happiness at the sight of your close friend.

He pulled away with a big smile on his face, "Wow, why do you actually look good?" He said with a playful flirty undertone, making you laugh.

"Don't know, maybe it's the lack of Jack." As you turned to look behind him, you locked eyes with another close friend, Alex. He smiled and walked up to you; he was definitely the calm one in the friend-group. He gave you a hug before Trevor continued.

He rolled his eyes, "You still on that? Come on, Y/N."

You chuckled at Trevor's playful teasing, realizing that his presence had indeed lifted your spirits. "I can't help it, Trev. It's like a curse or something."

Alex joined in with a gentle laugh. "Well, we're here now, so you don't have to think about Jack for a while."

With your friends around, the atmosphere lightened even further, and you felt grateful for their presence. It was a chance to forget about the tension with Jack and simply enjoy the reunion with your closest friends.

"Oh shit." Alex mumbled, "I forgot my phone in the car,"

"Oh no worries, I'll come with you," you offered, eager to catch up with Alex and have a moment away from the group.

As you both headed to the car, Alex spoke in a hushed tone, "How have you been, Y/N? I know things have been tough."

You appreciated his concern and gave him a small smile. "I've had my ups and downs, but I'm good now. I'm glad you decided to come to the lake house, I've missed you two."

Alex nodded, his expression thoughtful. "We've missed you too. And I know things have changed with Jack, but we're here to support you no matter what."

As you arrived in the hallway, you had no time to respond as you heard yelling in the garage. You and Alex exchanged confused glances as you tried to listen in.

"What, Jack?! What's the excuse now, she literally said she's liked you forever!" You heard Nicole's voice and you felt your heart drop. She heard you in the pool?

You and Alex exchanged concerned glances as you strained to hear the conversation in the garage. Nicole's voice had a tone of frustration, and it was evident that she was upset about something. The mention of your feelings for Jack made your heart race.

Jack's voice responded, his tone defensive. "Nicole, it's not that simple. Y/N and I have a complicated history, okay?"

Nicole sounded exasperated as she retorted, "Complicated history? Jack, she's moved on. Why can't you?"

Their voices grew louder, and you could feel the strain in their relationship even from a distance. It was clear that your presence had stirred up emotions and issues between them, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt.

As you leaned in closer to the door, it suddenly opened and you and Alex jumped.

The sudden opening of the door startled both you and Alex, and you found yourself face to face with a frustrated-looking Nicole. Her eyes widened in surprise at seeing you eavesdropping on their argument.

"Y/N..." Nicole began, her voice trailing off as he seemed at a loss for words.

You quickly glanced at Alex, who was equally taken aback by the unexpected confrontation.

"I'm so sorry, Nicole, I didn't know that you heard me and I promise you I would never, ever try anything while you were with Jack-"

She cut you off with a forced smile, "I get it. It's not your fault." She sneered at Jack before continuing. "It's not your fault Jack can't get over his childhood crush."

"Nicole, let's not do this here," Jack said, his voice tinged with frustration. He glanced at you and Alex before turning back to her. "We'll talk later, okay?"

"There is no later! I'm done." She yelled back at him, her eyebrows furrowing in utter anger. "You already made your decision, it was either me or her and we all know your choice. I won't be a second choice, Jack. I've been second to her our entire relationship and I just met her, can you imagine how I've felt?"

The raw pain in Nicole's eyes was impossible to ignore, and it was clear that she had reached her breaking point. Her outburst had laid bare the insecurities and frustrations that had been festering beneath the surface, and it left everyone in the room with a heavy sense of unease. You could see the hurt in her eyes, and it was clear that their relationship had reached a breaking point. You couldn't help but feel guilty, was it your fault?

While you knew you weren't responsible for the choices Jack had made in his relationship, it was impossible not to wonder if your presence had somehow worsened the situation. You had never intended to come between them or cause any harm.

You exchanged a glance with Alex, who looked equally uncomfortable with the situation. The unease in the room was palpable, and there were no easy answers to the complex emotions and dynamics at play.

Jack's shoulders slumped, and he looked defeated. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. It was a painful silence, and you could feel the weight of the history and emotions between Jack and Nicole.

Finally, he managed to speak, his voice soft and filled with regret. "I'm so sorry, Nicole. I never meant for any of this to happen-"

Nicole didn't respond. She simply turned and walked away, leaving Jack standing there, his face etched with a complex mix of emotions.

Jack ran a hand through his hair before he quickly pushed past you and Alex to run after Nicole. "Fuck, baby please listen!"

You and Alex exchanged looks before he sighed heavily, "Wow. What the hell did me and Trev miss."

"You have no idea," you sighed as you began walking to his car for the thing you had came in there for.

──

You sat next to Mark as you both dangled your feet in the water, everyone was outside and it finally felt like relaxing trip. It finally felt like the lake house; no drama (for the most part), cool summer air, and all your close friends in one place.

Sitting by the water with Mark, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. The drama from earlier had dissipated, and you were grateful for the opportunity to unwind with your friends. The cool breeze, the soothing sounds of the lake, and the laughter of your friends created a serene atmosphere that allowed you to momentarily forget about the complexities of your relationships.

You turned to Mark and offered a genuine smile. "Thanks for being here today, Mark. It means a lot."

He returned your smile warmly. "Of course, Y/N. I'm here whenever you need someone to talk to or just hang out with."

As the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, you found yourself leaning in closer to Mark. His presence felt comforting and reassuring. You locked eyes with him, and there was a shared understanding between you.

In that moment, you realized that Mark had become more than just a friend. He was someone who had been there for you, who had listened, and who had shown you support when you needed it, something you hadn't experienced from any partner. And perhaps, in the midst of all the chaos, you had found something unexpected: the possibility of a new beginning.

As your faces drew nearer, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that quiet, starlit moment. It was a moment of choice, a moment where you could let go of the past and embrace the future.

With a gentle, lingering touch, your lips met Mark's, and for that brief, stolen moment, it felt like the world was right where it should be.

Then it felt wrong. You pulled away and you turned your head almost instinctively and there he was. Jack, standing there, watching the scene unfold.

The shock on Jack's face was undeniable, and it was as if time had frozen in that moment. His presence shattered the tranquility that had enveloped you and Mark, leaving an awkward and tense silence in its wake.

Mark pulled away from you slowly, his expression a mix of surprise and uncertainty. You could feel your heart racing, caught between the past and the present, between the familiarity of Jack and the newfound connection with Mark.

Jack scoffed and walked away, leaving your heart shattered; like he always did. As you began to get up, Mark gripped your arm. You looked down at him and found yourself at crossroads.

Mark or Jack? Mark or Jack? Mark: the sweetest boy with the sweetest smile, or Jack: the person you'd loved your entire life.

You knew the answer. Everyone knew the answer. You moved your arm from his grip and got up, leaving him seated in the pool. You ran after Jack and it suddenly hit you. He'll always have this power over you, his beautiful smile always had this effect on you.

It made you nauseous as you tried to find where he was, like you always did. He would always pick someone else and you always had to pick him, that was just how it worked.

You ran after Jack, your heart pounding in your chest. The familiar ache of chasing after someone who always seemed just out of reach gnawed at you. It was a pattern you had repeated countless of times, a dance of longing and rejection that you couldn't seem to break free from no matter how hard you tried.

As you searched for him, you couldn't help but feel a sense of desperation. You knew that choosing Jack meant choosing the same cycle of heartache, but it was a choice you had made so many times before. His smile, his presence, his history with you—it all had a hold on you that was impossible to shake.

Finally, you spotted him by the edge of the lake, his silhouette illuminated by the moonlight. He turned to look at you, his expression a mix of surprise and uncertainty, as if he couldn't believe you had chosen him once again.

You didn't say anything as you approached him. Words felt meaningless in that moment. Instead, you simply reached out and took his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and with that simple gesture, you made your choice.

It might have been the same old pattern, the same old dance, but it was your choice to make, and for now, it was the one that felt right.

As you looked into his eyes, the same ones you'd adored since day one, you felt deja vu. You felt angry; how could one person have such control over you? In the depths of his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own emotions, a turbulent mix of desire, frustration, and longing. It was a maddening feeling, to be so deeply ensnared by someone who seemed to hold all the power in your relationship.

The moonlight cast a soft glow on both of you as you stood by the lake, hand in hand, the weight of your choice settling in. It was a choice that defied reason and logic, a choice that defied the very patterns you had tried to break free from. But for now, it was your choice, and you would face the consequences, whatever they may be, with Jack by your side.

You felt an unexpected sob ripple from your chest and you ripped your hand from his, covering your mouth with your hand. You closed your eyes and you felt Jack pull you closer, into his chest.

As the sobs wracked your body, you felt Jack's arms around you, offering a comforting embrace. It was a mixture of relief and hurt, the weight of your choice bearing down on you. You had chosen to follow your heart, even if it meant stepping into the same cycle of uncertainty and longing.

Jack held you tightly, his own emotions undoubtedly conflicted, but in that moment, it was a silent understanding between the two of you. The night was still, and the moon illuminated the path you had chosen, as well as the challenges that lay ahead.

"It's okay, shh. I'm... here now, I'm sorry." He mumbled as he planted a kiss on your head.

You felt such anger in your stomach as he said those words so easily. Was it okay? Was he really here, with you? Was he truly sorry. You pushed him away and you saw him fumble back, hurt in his eyes as you fell on to your knees, taking a seat on the cold sand of the lake.

The anger, the hurt, the confusion, it all swirled within you as you sat there on the cold sand, tears streaming down your face. You couldn't make sense of your emotions, and Jack's words, well-intentioned as they might have been, didn't provide the solace you needed.

Jack remained a few steps away, watching you with a pained expression, unsure of how to bridge the gap between you. The silence between you was heavy, filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings.

"Do you know..." You sniffled, looking up at him with tears in your eyes. You didn't even know where to begin. "I've spent my entire fucking life pining after you. Every single moment has been dedicated to the great Jack fucking Hughes, did you know that?"

Your bitter words felt like a dagger to the heart to the both of you. You continued, "I always choose you. I always fucking choose you!" You screamed out angrily, as Jack flinched. He'd never seen you this angry in his entire life.

"Why do I always choose you? You're like every other guy in the world." Your tears streamed down your face. "But you're special to me," you mumbled as Jack's breathing became heavy with emotion. "You always choose everyone else but me. I never knew why." You were just rambling at this point but you would be lying if you said it didn't feel good.

You looked up at Jack. "I watched you fall for people who didn't see you the way I did, who didn't know you the way I did, and I stood there, invisible, as you gave your heart to them."

Your words cut deep, each one a painful reminder of the years of unrequited love and longing.

"And then," you whispered, your voice barely audible, "when I finally thought it might be my turn to finally be with someone who actually liked me, who wanted me, I choose you again." Your voice cracked as you mentioned Mark.

You wiped away fresh tears, and the pain in your eyes was palpable. "It hurts, Jack. It hurt more than I can put into words. But I still chose you, again."

A sob caught in your throat, and you continued, your words heavy with emotion. "I've cried myself to sleep, wondering why I wasn't good enough for you, why you never saw me the way I saw you. And every time you got hurt, I was right there with you, helping and being there." You paused. "And when I was hurt, where the fuck were you? Probably with some girl who never knew you like I did. Who will never know you like I do."

Jack's eyes were filled with remorse, and you could see the pain in his expression, but you couldn't stop now. You had to let it all out.

"I convinced myself that if I just kept waiting, if I just kept choosing you, someday you'd see me for who I was, you'd choose me. But it never happened, Jack. It never happened, and it broke my heart a little more every day."

Your voice broke again as you sniffled, "I've missed out on so much because of you," you continued, your voice trembling with emotion. "I've given up on amazing opportunities, on people who genuinely cared about me, all because I thought someday you'd choose me too."

Jack took a seat beside you, the weight of your words sinking in. You didn't fight it, you were too tired.

The lake's gentle waves lapped against the shore, providing a soothing backdrop to the turmoil of emotions swirling around both of you. He didn't say anything for a while, the silence between you heavy with unspoken regret.

Finally, he broke the silence, his voice soft and filled with remorse. "I didn't know. I didn't mean to... hurt you."

You turned to look at him, your eyes meeting his. You saw the sincerity in his gaze, but it was accompanied by a sense of helplessness. It was as if he had finally realized the depth of the pain he had caused you.

"I couldn't like you, Y/N." It sounded harsher than it actually was as he continued. "I just couldn't. You were too good, Y/N, you are a sweetheart. I was scared to taint you, and I would've never forgiven myself if I did..."

"Taint me?" You scoffed, pain in your tone. "You tainted me the moment you met me, Jack."

Those words hung in the air as he swallowed, taking your words into consideration. "I'm so sorry, Y/N," he whispered, his voice filled with remorse. "I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted any of this."

You sighed, the anger and frustration slowly giving way to a sense of resignation. It was a complicated situation, and both of you had made mistakes along the way. "I know, Jack. I know you didn't."

In that moment, you both shared a painful understanding of the past and the choices that had brought you to this point. You would always choose him, and he'd always choose them. But as he put his hand on top of yours, your body entire body felt like it was on fire.

As you looked into Jack's eyes, you saw a mixture of emotions - regret, longing, and a hint of hope. It was as if he, too, was wrestling with the undeniable connection that had always existed between you.

"I'm not saying it'll be easy, Y/N," he murmured, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of your hand. "But maybe... just maybe, we can find a way to make this work."

His words hung in the air, and for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to entertain the possibility of a future with Jack, a future where you didn't have to choose between him and anyone else.

Maybe all of that pining wasn't for nothing. Maybe in the end, he would have chosen you. But would you choose him? Could you finally resist him?

As you sat there, the gentle breeze ruffling your hair and the quiet waters of the lake before you, you contemplated Jack's words. The years of pining and longing, the heartaches and frustrations, all seemed to converge in this one moment.

Maybe, just maybe, this was the moment where the tides would turn, and you could choose a different path, one that didn't revolve around Jack. But the choice was yours to make, and it wouldn't be easy. You knew the allure of Jack, the history you shared, and the magnetic pull between you two would always be there.

For now, you decided to savor the night, knowing that the future held uncertainties and challenges, but also the potential for something beautiful. As you gazed at the moonlit lake, you couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead and what choices you would make when the time came.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

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babygorewhore · 29 days

Text

Riding best friend JJ’s face

Minors fuck off. And thank you to @xxbimbobunnyxx and @drewstarkeyslut for telling me it’s not garbage.

JJ swore John b and Pope to secrecy about his feelings regarding his best friend. You. Friends since childhood. Just friends. That code prevented him from ever acting on his emotions toward you. But damn it was getting harder to stop himself from making a move.

For example, now it was after midsummers and he was currently at your house watching a movie in your bedroom. While you scrolled through social media on your phone sitting next to him on the bed. He adjusted the blanket over his lap, trying to disguise his erection as he stole glances at your exposed skin. Your beautiful dress highlighting the curves of your body that he so desperately wanted to trace with his tongue.

“JJ, look,” you show him a meme and he forces himself to laugh as you cackle helplessly.

You were so beautiful. Not only with your appearance but you’re entire being. You were his dream girl. Sometimes…he could have sworn you looked at him the same way but he truly didn’t want to make a fool out of himself and be wrong. That was his worst fear. Rejection from you. He would never get over the embarrassment.

“You’re being weird tonight, JJ. What’s wrong?” You quirk an eyebrow and he clears his throat with a jerk of his head

“M not. Just tired. Being around all those assholes wore me out. No offense,” he replied as a cop out but the way your eyes narrowed told him you didn’t buy it.

“You’re not getting out of it that easy. Come on. Spill. Now.” You demanded and shifted on the bed. Your tits slightly bounced from your movement and he swallowed. His mouth running dry as you leaned on an elbow next to him. Your bodies almost pressed together.

“Nothings wrong. Don’t worry about it.” He said firmly but you rolled your eyes and leaned down further, your breath warm on his face.

“Uh uh. No. Tell me. You’ve been acting off and I wanna know why.”

JJ maneuvered so he was facing you straight on. “Drop it.” He said with an edge in his voice and you gave him a ghost of a smirk.

“And if I don’t?”

Something broke in him and JJ reached for your hips, pulling you towards him, making the blankets move together and you shrieked with wide eyes as he leaned in closer, his nose almost touching yours.

“I think you know. I think you know exactly what’s going on.” He glances at your lips and you don’t move away. So he pushes his luck a little more and brushed your lips with his. He pulled back, gauging your reaction.

You crashed your lips to his, hands finding and pulling him closer by his shirt and he moans into your mouth, his fingers digging into the soft skin of your ass as you straddle his waist, covered core on top of his lap. You pull at his hair, his messy waves tangling between your digits as you tug his lower lip with your teeth before diving your tongue inside his mouth.

He grunts and grinds up into you, his muscular thighs underneath you as you move down on him, breathing heavily into his mouth as he kisses you harder. JJ felt like he was exploding. He couldn’t believe this moment was happening. He was with you. Touching you. He’d literally dreamt of this.

JJ could feel your panties dampen as your dress rode up and he reached around, snapping the elastic band before he started tugging down, guiding you to remove them. Your bare cunt fluttered from the cool air in your room and you started to crawl on top of him. JJ groaned as your thighs caged either side of his shoulders and his hands cupped the back of your ass.

“Wanna taste your sweet little pussy. Fucking sit down,” JJ tugged you down, his nose bumping your clit before he flattened his tongue and licks with a rough pressure. His cock hardens at your slick in his mouth as he circles his tongue before thrusting it inside you.

You whine and hold yourself by the headboard as you rock your hips on his face, relieving some of the tension building in your stomach. JJ growls and increases speed, spit and precum pooling on his lips as you hump him. He gives your ass a smack. “You’re my fucking whore,” he mumbles against your pussy.

“Mhm, fuck!” You cry out as he focuses again on your clit and his hands find your tits, squeezing them in both of his large hands, bringing you closer to the edge. “You’re such a fucking slut,” you pant and he nods in agreement. He’s your slut and always has been. Your movements shudder and you cum, all over his mouth and chin. JJ trembles, his own peak pushing him as he cums in his boxers, his abs flexing as his hold hardens on your body.

You reach down and palm him, working him through his orgasm and his blue eyes glaze over. You shakily get off, settling next to him on the bed but he’s quick to pull you to his chest and he peppers kisses on your hairline. “God, I wanted to do that for so fucking long,” he breathes against your head. You giggle and nod.

“Me too. Sorry it took me so long, JJ.” He shakes his head and tightens his arms around your shoulders.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m just glad it finally happened, baby.” He pulls back a little as you turn your chin, capturing his cum covered lips in a messy kiss, making him hard all over again.

Tagging some moots

@redhead1180 @gri959 @take-everything-you-can @emsgoodthinkin @marchsfreakshow @floredaqueen @drudyslut

#jj maybank #jj Maybank smut #JJ Maybank blurb #jj maybank x reader #JJ Maybank imagine #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x kook!reader #jj maybank concept #be nice to me I feel like this is trash

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suiseisyojo · 1 year

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please give me all your love

「riddle rosehearts, lilia vanrouge, vil schoenheit x gn!reader」 ↳ in which you accidentally drink a love potion and fall for the one who's always harbored unrequited feelings for you. [part 2 here] cw: angst, suggestive themes (all)

[riddle rosehearts]

You two were childhood friends and Riddle’s been in love with you ever since he could remember; it was ironic, truly, that after consuming a love potion, he was the first person you sought out. Trusting in his judgment to know what to do under these circumstances. Didn't you know that the potion would make you fall for him? How could you be so utterly reckless?

Everyone at Heartslabyul already knew of the Housewarden's surreptitious soft-spot for you in spite of his objections to it. You always obeyed the rules, following them to the best of your ability—even when you were frustrated with them, all because, "I like the Queen of Hearts, too♪".

But Riddle's feelings blossomed much sooner than that. When you'd write him letters under the guise of educational tips with a secret code hidden inside so that his mother wouldn't be overly suspicious. When you'd taken him gently by the hand, holding onto him with such strength, as if you were afraid he'd slip from your fingers, and told him, "I like being your friend, Riddle. You're super smart, and you always let me be myself! You're the only one who can do that for me!".

Which is why it hurt when he felt your arms wrap around him, hands lingering around his waist in an intimate way you'd never do with a friend. Words of praise and adulation left your mouth, dripping like a sickening honey. "I love you, Riddle. You're so cute when you blush⋯ Hey, we've been together all this time, we should stay together forever⋯"

“[Name], d-don’t kiss there; that’s inappropriate⋯!”

With your body pressed tautly against his back as his arms carried you back to your dorm, Riddle felt your lips press quick, feverish kisses along the nape of his neck; the sensation evoking goosebumps to cascade across his sensitive skin as frissons of heat rippled down the column of his spine.

The dulcet sound of your sweet, breathless giggles filled his ears as you suppressed the compulsion to smother his skin in your kisses. And Riddle couldn’t help but recollect the copious times as kids he was left to your whims, incapable of doing anything but following along.

“We’re not children anymore, if it’s carrying you like this, I can handle it,” Riddle retorted curtly. It was frustrating when you refused to listen to his scoldings, especially in this situation where your mind was rapt with fabricated affection. “⋯ Hah, they’re not listening anymore.”

Riddle entered within your room, setting you down onto the bed with the utmost caution. Left in his care, you were peering up at him with pleading, dewy eyes; and he heaved a sigh in response. “You’ll kick up a fuss if I leave, so I’ll stay. But you’re not to leave the room until the potion wears off, got it?”

As you nodded your head, Riddle went to whirl around on his heel and head over to your desk when you abruptly entwined your arms around his neck and tugged him down—your lips meeting his. “Mmph! [Name], what are you⋯?!” Riddle breathed out, tinctures of desperation and panic heady in his voice, before he felt you press another kiss against him.

You pulled him into you further, allowing his weight to descend overtop of you as you hopelessly deepened the kiss. Deeper, deeper; you pressed him into you despite his protests.

“——You’re a cruel person, [Name]! Do you even know how much I love⋯” Cutting himself off tersely, Riddle seized your shoulders and pushed you back away from him as he swiftly stood up.

Vexation was acrid on Riddle’s tongue as he was maddened with your naivety, your thoughtlessness, and he gritted his teeth together and snapped at you, “Stay in bed. If you come any closer to me, it’s off with your head, you understand right?”

The feel of your lips sunk into his rapid pulse, permeating a warmth that ached—but the thought of experiencing it again was nothing more than an unimaginable wonderland.

[lilia vanrouge]

Lilia never expected you to return his love—he truly felt content in how your relationship currently was; doting on you whenever you were overburdened by the bits and pieces of life’s difficulties and were in need of a little spoiling⋯ in need of him and the advice he can offer.

That's why, when Lilia had heard you’d drinken a love potion, he was quick to be at your side. He couldn’t let anyone take advantage of you, could he? He always, perpetually, looked after you! As soon as he questioned how you were doing, he found you suddenly clinging on him; and that’s when he realized what was going on. The love potion had made you fall in love with him.

"Lilia-san, my chest hurts. It's overflowing because of you!" The darling words spilled from your lips as you enveloped him in your arms, taking hold of him like he was your everything.

Soothing hands cascaded through your hair, ameliorating your fear towards the inundation of new feelings. Lilia was here, as he always was, soothing you; taking care of you.

“You’re eager, little one. But you shouldn’t be doing this,” Lilia’s low, modulated voice whispered against your ear with an almost teasing lilt as you squirmed in his lap; yearning for his hands on you. “⋯ Why? Because this isn’t how you truly feel. It’s just the effects of the potion you drank.”

Lilia’s lithe fingers brushed away strands of your hair from sticking to your face, luxuriating in how your body flushed from his simple, yet loving, actions. You were too adorable like this, pliable and receptive to his every movement in a way he’d never seen from you before.

Rubbing your cheek against his, you smoothed your hand over his chest and tapped the tips of your fingers along with the beat of his heart; his heart that thumped and thumped in its socket, thrumming warmth along his body.

“Fine, just a little. I’ll give you some love♪”

Planting feathery kisses into the crook of your neck, Lilia placed a hand on your back as he massaged languid, affectionate circles into you. He could feel your body begin to tremble as a smile curved on your lips, reveling in how he was finally showering you in his love.

Lilia never considered himself a selfish person—he always took your feelings into consideration when he interacted with you, keeping you at arm’s length with his scares and equally inane pranks.

But as he held you, he felt a greedy vine slither between and around his ribcage; encasing his heart with thorns that perforated his resolve, letting his forbidden devotion leak out. The desperate, unending need to have you be his in a way unlike before.

“Are you satisfied yet?” Lilia asked softly as he removed his lips from your neck, your supple skin that shimmered from the saliva left behind. A slow, deep corruption until the potion wears off and you can never return. “No? My my, you’re almost as greedy as me, little one.”

[vil schoenheit]

At first, Vil was furious with you—how could you be so ignorant and stupid as to drink a potion without knowing what it’ll do to you? That was⋯ until the person whose affections you were sworn to have was him.

Hearts rose from the depths of your eyes, illuminating your innocence. You followed him everywhere, desperate for just a glimpse at the man who swallowed your mind whole. "Vil-san, you're perfect. You’re all I can see and feel."

Vil had always knew you didn’t love him in the way he loved you. Yet, still, he was persistent in attaining your love. One day, you’d be his; and he’d never give up on it. The graceful and talented one who wove him the finest outfits with all your skills and devotion. The one who sits through lectures and lessons out of reverence in order to cultivate your knowledge on fashion and beauty. Never cutting any corners.

He’ll “eat” up the you who’s drowning in forbidden love for him and melt it into reality, make it come true; as if the effects of the love potion were simply your feelings since the start.

A silky, lustrous mouth sucked on your ear, leaving a thin trail of saliva connecting your sensible lobe to his painted lips. In each teardrop clinging to your lashes, Vil could see your need for him—and it only exacerbated the unabating longing in his chest.

Vil’s slender finger traced along your jawline, tilting your head upwards to gaze upon his impassioned countenance. “Simply perfect. With your lips trembling, breaths thickening⋯ you’re like a ripe fruit. It’s divine,” he praised you, haughty and amorous. “No matter how embarrassing it is, this is who you are.”

Being the one to bring you such heights of beauty and pleasure, Vil was beyond pleased with your quivering body laid beneath him on his bed. His hands moved across your body with such a precision of ardency, it was ethereal. It made you feel hot, needy.

Vil brought his lips down to your exposed collarbone, nibbling at the skin; a sweet scent rose from your heated flesh, letting him suck on the honey-like essence. “Look over there, my doll, in that mirror,” he instructed you, nails digging into your thigh as you obediently did as you were told.

However, upon seeing the silhouette of your own body shaking from your gratification, you squeezed your eyes shut. “Hey, don’t look away. This is what you wanted, right? To receive all my love like this⋯ am I wrong?” A wicked laugh bubbled on his lips, his lips that were still pressed against your clavicle, and the motion magnified his kisses.

Now that he’s gotten a taste, Vil would stop at nothing to continue to devour you—he wanted this sight of you all to himself a little longer. Even if all that reflected in your glossy eyes were nothing more than a sweet lie.

“The ‘you’ who doesn’t hold back in your desires is the most beautiful of them all.”

#riddle rosehearts #lilia vanrouge #vil schoenheit #riddle rosehearts x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #vil shoenheit x reader #x reader #gn reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #love potion series

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hamspamandjamsandwich · 6 months

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Kurama is such a complex character, god love him. The way I see him is: I mean he’s literally actually only Yoko Kurama.

“Oh he’s here. He’s me.”

So we have three personas here: Kurama, Yoko Kurama, and Shuuichi Minamino. While he has these three identities, he doesn’t have three personalities. That is to say, he’s one being, two different pieces that merged.

That’s where shit gets really interesting. My interpretation of this is that the merger came packaged with a human soul and body, and that the human parts are what gives him a conscience and a heart and a moral compass, and things such as. I doubt this is an original idea I just wanted to muse lol.

Shuuichi doesn’t bring a different personality. I think Shuuichi provided the things that make us human and a body. Those things are part of the human soul. Empathy, guilt, love. Yoko was always still himself, it’s how Kurama remembers everything, it’s literally just him. He’s simply changed as a person due to being plagued with humanity.

And that’s such a fun idea to me. Yoko Kurama, the legendary bandit, king of thieves—having personality rehab via the human experience. I think it just changed him the way anyone can change, sorta. He begins to feel pretty shitty about the things he’s done and feels guilty about everything with regards to his mother. All this comes together and makes him…a better version of himself? A better person? And I like that.

there is no Shuuichi outside of an adopted persona/identity for Kurama—like I don’t think he brought anything outside of what comes with nature, genetics, and a human soul (which I personally don’t think is the sum of someone’s personality, just what gives them spiritual life? If that makes sense).

But man, it makes me love Kurama so much more when I don’t think of Yoko as a different self or something that can be abandoned, it’s simply a previous version of himself. The past. So I think his 15 years as semi-human simply gave Yoko some insane character development.

Experiencing being unconditionally loved—the very idea that a relationship need not be transactional—being loved beyond what you can do for them. Being loved for existing, and nothing else. I truly think that his humanity responded well to being loved during the “early childhood development” stage and it gives him a way more stable sense of self than he should have tbh

And much like actual prison (or maybe more accurately rehab or inpatient etc), he has nothing but time and passes it by taking up interests and hobbies. He got to find stuff he enjoys about being human and ningenkai. He already liked plants obviously, but it’s so sweet to imagine him really developing an interest in botany and gardening and keeping houseplants etc. Learning to cook with Shiori and actually really liking it—I mean hey he gets to use some of those plants he’s been growing.

Big reader, obviously. He wants to know everything, and he knows so much already, yet humans keep inventing new shit to learn about, so that works out well. School and education get to be competitive sports that he’s the best at, again obviously. All manner of puzzles, games (tabletop and video of course), mystery books and films; if you can analyze it or crack a code somehow, he’s good with it. A real people-watcher, the disdain for humanity begins to fade over time and observation—they’re not so bad after all.

I like that he grows very comfortable in his human form. He’s pretty and appears to really own that (he lucked out there, huh? Incubated in a human that will be so attractive in the future lol), and I think that being raised by his mother (and perhaps this is some of that aforementioned Shuuichi nature) has him “in touch with his feminine side.” So I imagine he doesn’t miss his Yoko body too much, until he suddenly gets it back for a moment and is reminded of how good it felt to be himself. Good in a sinful, hedonistic way, that is. He clearly doesn’t want to be that way, but 1000+ year old habits die hard, right?

Idk I love Yoko Kurama that’s all folks that’s one of my headcanons or maybe it’s actually canon who knows. I just wanted to muse about my favorite kitsune.

#kurahi #yu yu hakusho #yoko kurama #musings.txt #kurama #I love the spirit fox #he’s just trying to do better and atone for his crimes #yyh #headcanons

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mrchiipchrome · 1 year

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The '23 Bonnie & Clyde

W.C: 2,9 K

You had started to play the guitar at the age of four when your parents bought you your very first guitar. It was one of those truly horrible plastic toy guitars with basically unusable strings. Two years later they put you in your first lessons and now 18 years later you are still playing your heart out, only now in front of unimaginable crowds. You and some of your childhood friends created your band at the ripe age of 15 as you started with making covers of your favorite songs in your garage and later uploading them to YouTube.

Soon enough your videos began to pick up some traction and you began getting gigs at local bars and cafes, and eventually you even began to write your own songs. You were the songwriter/guitarist, Benjamin was your bassist and backup vocalist, Amelia was your lead singer and Alexander was your drummer.

You’re the one who writes the lyrics as well as the actual music as you were the one who had the best visions of how the songs were supposed to sound. The rest of the band usually gave their input and you made sure to add as much of them as possible. In your fifteen year old minds you thought that calling your band The Summer Trucks was the most hilarious thing ever, now that was a household name.

Now at 24 you were incredibly thankful for everything that has transpired in your life up to this point. All your work and creativity has earned you a massive record deal and success all over the world with your songs being played practically everywhere. And yet everything paled in comparison to her, your girlfriend who you had met in a local coffee shop in North Carolina three years ago. You had just finished a gig, though this one without your band mates as the owner had requested that you be the only one there.

You hadn’t paid attention to where you were going, having had a song idea and needed to write it down before it slipped your mind. You were cautiously walking towards the counter to order yourself whatever drink you were craving that day when you felt another body colliding with your own, warm liquid spilling down your front as you let out a quick yelp.

You were incredibly surprised and as your now stained tee stuck to your skin you could hear a multitude of apologies fall from the other person's lips. When you looked up you were even more surprised, she was undoubtedly the most beautiful girl you had ever seen and you had let your eyes fall on celebrities who were classed as the most beautiful in the world. And yet none of those celebrities had even a fraction of the clumsy girl’s beauty.

You were simply speechless, the hot drink spilled on you earlier completely forgotten about. She took your silence as anger which was the complete opposite of what you were feeling. You reached your hands up to her arms, a way to tell her that it was okay and that you weren’t mad. She stops her rambling as soon as she looks into your eyes and seemingly recognises who you are, you can nearly see how the cogs turn in her head as she figures out where she has seen you before. Her eyes widened and you let a smile creep onto your face, looking down you spot her athletic wear and the iconic tar heels logo on the front.

“I’m so incredibly sorry, I don’t even know how I fell- God I’m so stupid” Before she can continue to put herself down you invite her to sit with you in one of the countless booths in the coffee shop. This led to you and the mystery girl, who later let you know that her name was Alessia, engaging in a conversation lasting hours.

By the end of the meeting it was dark outside and both of you had gotten countless texts from your teammates or bandmates respectively. But you felt like you had known Alessia for years and as you picked up your guitar from the guitar stand you asked her to put her number in your phone, even going as far as letting her know the code to your phone.

As you make your way back to the hotel where you and your bandmates had been staying all you could think about was Alessia and how her eyes were some of the most gorgeous things you had ever seen. When you had arrived at the hotel your bandmates could see the dazed look in your eyes and instead of trying to tease you about being out for so long, they left you alone knowing that times like these were when you would write masterpieces.

That night all you did was sit and write, you wrote everything that you had felt during your conversation and everything after. Then the process of rewriting your thoughts into songs began and by the end of the night your band had gained five new songs. Arriving down for breakfast that morning you were sluggish in your movements, dark circles surrounding your eyes and an accomplished smile on your tired face.

Those five songs plus an additional four amassed into an album to which you gave the name ‘Coffee Shop Love’, the band's third studio album. Made up of love filled songs and hopeful messages, it became one of the most listened to albums of 2020 with many songs topping the charts in countless different countries. You and Alessia continued to text each other and after two months of flirting and sweet goodmorning messages you had finally gotten together.

15 year old you never would have thought that this would be your life, touring with the band created in your garage and an amazing footballer as your girlfriend. Sure, it had been difficult few years with Alessia training and having games and you touring with the band and writing hit after hit.

You did take a break from touring when you attended the Euros final at Wembley, having been invited by Alessia. The pure joy expressed on Alessia’s face when that final whistle blew had your own eyes tearing up as you cheered and sang ‘Sweet Caroline’ with the rest of the crowd.

Lately you had become a hot topic between Alessia’s teammates as well as the media, having been spotted going to their games wearing an England jersey with the name on the back unknown. It had recently been revealed that the band was in the studio, working on new music and you were known for going to random and unrelated places for inspiration. Well, it had started that way but after meeting Alessia you had started to go to places that reminded you of her. Coffee shops, football pitches and different locations in Manchester were where you would be found most times.

Sometimes you could be found wandering the cold, narrow streets of Manchester before sitting down on a random bench under a tree with only your notebook and a pen to keep you company. When you would come home you would sit down and start to compose a tune which matches perfectly with the words that are jotted down in your notebook.

Returning to the matter at hand, Alessia’s teammates had been arguing nonstop for the past few weeks and it was driving her nuts. Most nights she’s heard complaining over facetime about how miserable it is to hear her teammates argue about who’s name was on the back of your jersey when it clearly was hers. And everytime she complained you just laughed and told her that it was your secret and every time she would give you one of her signature smiles, the one that could instantly light up your slightly brooding demeanor.

You and Alessia had never really had the conversation of going public, I mean you never really had to considering no one suspected anything despite going on numerous dates together and posting small hints about who you were hanging out with. There were a few muttered suspicions from people of both fandoms but nothing really took off, so ultimately it fell on our hands to reveal your relationship.

Now going about this was something new to the both of you, never having to reveal a relationship before and you had sat and discussed late into the evening on how to do it. There were many options, going to one of her games and kissing her at the end, dropping hints in your music, soft launching it or hard launching it. Eventually you both settled on making the announcement via instagram, with matching photos from the past halloween where you had dressed in matching costumes.

—————————

“Lessi! Where are you?” The vibrations of your voice carry throughout the apartment as you enter. This is normal, you asking where she is as soon as you enter wanting to locate her as soon as possible. Today a sense of urgency is noticeable as your voice sounds hurried, throwing out the words without a care in the world.

“In here!” Her downright addictive voice reaches your ears, seemingly coming from the direction of the kitchen. Unconsciously, your feet carry you in the direction of her voice in an effort to see and embrace her. Arriving at the kitchen the sight that meets your eyes is so domestic that you feel like you’re about to cry. Standing there over the stove is Alessia cooking some Italian dish you’ve forgotten the name of.

The heavenly smell wafts into your nose and you let out a small groan, waltzing over to her as she stirs whatever is in the pan and you wrap your rather muscular arms around her waist. You have started to join in on some extra workouts she performs at home recently and you’ve started to see the result, arms more defined as well as your leg muscles something you know Alessia enjoyed seeing. It isn’t that you didn’t workout before, it’s just that you didn’t do it as frequently as you do currently.

It warms your heart whenever Alessia cooks for you, to think that she takes time out of her day to cook you a home cooked meal just amazes you. She cooks for you even though she’s tired and sore from training, it just makes your heart burst with love.

“Do you need help with anything?” Shaking her head, she turns towards you while you continue to clutch her waist. When she finally faces you she moves her hands up and places them delicately against your reddened cheeks, leaning in to connect your lips for what feels like the first time today. When she pulls away she keeps her hands on your face, fingers gently running over your lips as a large smile takes over her soft features when your blush darkens.

Turning around in your arms, she takes back her earlier statement as she nods her head towards the living room where all your guitar equipment is.

“Some live music would be nice” Barking out a loud laugh at her statement you remove your arms from their place around her waist and start your short trek through the small Manchester apartment. It is a one bedroom apartment with a large living room and a nice bedroom.

There was a doorway that led from the kitchen into the living room and then when you reach the living room there was another doorway that led to a hallway straight into the bedroom you shared. The bathroom is just to the right side of the entrance, while the coat and shoe rack are to the left.

Picking up your favorite acoustic guitar, your very first one in fact, you start to walk back towards the kitchen all while picking up your capo and a plectrum. When you arrive back in the kitchen you see Alessia standing there, a glass of red wine in her hands as she continues to cook. Walking over to her you pluck the glass out of her hands, taking a quick sip before handing it back to her but not before getting fixed with an offended look.

Sitting down on the marble countertop you are in your natural habitat, with a guitar sitting in your lap. Your fingers are on the fretboard as you start to tune it, first playing the bass E while holding your finger on the fifth fret and the A string together to see if they sound the same. You tweak the E string a little bit before repeating the process and moving your finger down to the fifth fret on the A string and playing it together with the D string. It repeats until you reach the B string where you move your finger to the fourth fret as the high E has a lighter sound than what you could match with the B.

“Alright, I’m all tuned and ready. You have any requests for the performer, madam?”

“Yeah, could you do that Metallica song we listened to last saturday? I can’t remember what it’s called, Nothing happens? Nothing else…something.” Snapping her fingers as she tries to remember the song's name has a quick smile creeping up on your face.

“Nothing Else Matters, you mean? Sure I can play that for you!” You see the relieved smile on her face as you understand her ramblings. Playing the opening notes of the calm song you soon have to run your fingers all over the fret all while alternating between plucking and strumming with your right hand. You play with an unbelievable amount of class, alike to how Alessia behaves on the pitch in your element.

The song comes to a close just as Alessia finishes up the food and you put your guitar back in its place in the living room before joining Alessia again. You help her with the cutlery and the plates as she serves you both, you go over to the cupboard again as you search for a glass. Taking a hold of your chosen glass you move towards the refrigerator where you fetch the sparkling water. Sitting down across the table from Alessia, you take a bite of the food and nearly moan as the incredible flavour hits your tastebuds.

The sound of Alessia’s soft laughter wakes you from the trance the food has put you in and you look up and straight into her unbelievably blue eyes.Suddenly you can’t help but blurting out something you had thought about long and hard. Watching as Alessia takes a bite of her pasta,your mouth spills out the words.

“I want to reveal our relationship” All of a sudden choking sounds are heard and the only thing you can think about is when she told you about how she had choked on her pasta in Jordan. Going to her side to clap her back, you press a kiss to the side of her face when she seems to not be choking anymore.

“What?”

“I wanna tell people about us. I wanna be able to hold your hand and take you to award shows. I wanna be able to brag to people about my strong footballer girlfriend that I’m oh so proud of.”

“Yeah, yeah I can get behind that. How do you want to announce it?”

“Instagram? We can post the pictures from last halloween, you were so gorgeous drenched in fake blood.”

She gives you a weird look when you say that but you just shrugged as if saying ‘what? did you want me to lie?’. Getting through the rest of the meal without any other outbursts, you eventually settle on the couch after putting your cutlery in the dishwasher and you start to plan out how you were going to do this. Choosing your pictures and typing out matching captions based on your outfits in the pictures you press post at the exact same time, not having to wait for long until your phones start to blow up.

@ yourinstagram

Liked by leahwiliamsonn, alessiarusso99 and 2 863 657 others

yourinstagram all I need in this life of sin is me and my girlfriend @alessiarusso99

alessiarusso99 love you my Clyde❤️

↳yourinstagram love you even more my Bonnie ❤️

leahwilliamsonn you have to introduce us @alessiarusso99

ellatoone why wasn’t I told about this 😐

↳loveameliaclark yeah why weren’t we told about this

↳benmajorss yeah @ yourinstagram @alessiarusso99

↳alexgrant98 yeah

↳yourinstagram you just had to join didn’t you @alexgrant98

beyoncé ❤️

↳woso-fan BEYONCÉ?

ohgrays this is so nom x

y/nfan37 EXCUSE ME? Now this I didn’t have on my 2023 bingo card

barclayswsl hottest couple alert 🚨

thesummertrucksofficial w caption

↳yourinstagram thanks Matthew

@alessiarusso99

Liked by yourinstagram, ellatoone and 186 593 others

alessiarusso99 The ‘23 Bonnie and Clyde, Blondie and Rockstar @yourinstagram

yourinstagram I only need you my dearest Bonnie ❤️

↳alessiarusso99 and I you my dearest Clyde ❤️

loveameliaclark still mad that you didn’t tell us first @ yourinstagram, but welcome into the family Alessia!

benmajorss so you’re the reason why we have been getting sweet love songs lately…

↳yourinstagram BENJAMIN ANDRE MAJORS II

↳tstloml not the full name💀

alexgrant98 so who’s the best man?

↳benmajorss me obviously

↳loveameliaclark nah it’s obviously me

↳alexgrant98 @loveameliaclark ur not even a man

↳loveameliaclark I will hit you @alexgrant98

manutdwomen ❤️

russolover the matching captions, are they trying to kill us?

You repost each others post on your instagram stories before settling into the couch and spending the rest of the night together with Alessia basking in each others company, proud of the fact that you had just broken the internet.

Happy Easter/holidays everyone if you celebrate that! Hope y'all like that one. I've been playing the guitar since I was about 8, but I started to take lessons in fourth grade and I'm in eighth now. But yeah this was a fun one, What do we think about R being a manager for the next fic?

#alessia russo imagines #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #alessia russo imagine #engwnt x reader #woso x reader #lionesses x reader #woso imagines

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lazywonderlvnd · 2 years

Text

happy birthday to harry james potter here’s some reasons why he always has been and always will be one of my favorite characters in all of fiction:

was treated like garbage his entire childhood and still has an inexhaustible capacity for love and forgiveness

u can talk shit abt him but if u talk shit abt his friends he’ll launch a brutal verbal tirade against u

god tier sense of humor. sarcasm level 100 never misses

bravest boy on earth??? this kid found out he had to DIE to get rid of some crazy ass evil dictator and literally walked stone cold to his own death to save everyone else??

let’s not forget he liked his lightning scar at first before he found out what it rly was :( he thought it was cool :(

unheard of emotional maturity for a teenager. instantly understood that ron was insecure abt being the youngest boy in his family and not having a lot of money and always tried to find ways to make him feel better abt it

had cute lil daydreams abt being the triwizard champion before he got forced into it for real

UNmatched bisexual energy, literally always sizing everyone up and declaring them attractive or monstrous, no in between

so so humble abt his talents and abilities yes but also SO arrogant abt his moral code. he said my moral compass is the correct one and i will follow that and ur rules and laws can truly eat my ass and honestly that’s so sexy of him

animals always like him 😔

literally BORN to wield power and not abuse it. boy destroyed the elder wand bc he liked his old one better

drinks his respect women juice every morning and every night before bed rmr when he got so righteously offended that hermione suggested he thought the prince couldn’t be a woman bc he didn’t think a woman could be that smart

also rmr when he choked out mundungus for stealing shit from grimmauld djebfjnwbfne

literally so stubborn that the imperius curse barely works on him lmaoooo

successfully used crucio to defend mcgonagall’s honor like?? ok king go off!!

just the best boy in the whole world. that’s all

#harry potter #hjp #my son i just love him sm happy bday sweet boy #thots

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69dias · 2 years

Text

baby don’t go (i’m bad at being alone)

genre: bff2l, idiots to lovers

warnings: as slowburn as it gets for 25k words, jk is an idiot and oc is so mean to herself AND to others occasionally. religious themes [Bible verses], mentions of alcoholism, unrequited love (not between jk and oc), mentions and themes of death, resolving trauma, bad childhoods. smut: vaginal fingering, marking kink, ily kink, kinda breeding kink, unprotected sex which is BAD

wc: 25k (this is hefty IM SAWRY)

listen to a playlist for this here!

When Jungkook was seven years old, his mother had asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up. He'd answered, way too confident and much too quickly, that his ultimate passion in life was to be a ninja. His mother had laughed fondly, serving him a plate of fruit that she’d cut up for him, and ruffled his hair

He’s positive that she had convinced herself that he'd figure it out eventually; that she’d probably taken it in stride considering the fact that he was seven, but the memory remains clear as day in Jungkook's head in his senior year of college.

Computer Science. That had turned out to be his actual ‘ultimate passion’ in life, though Jungkook always finds himself hesitating when he says it out loud. Perhaps his younger self had thought that he would figure it out eventually too, shoving the concept of a future deep into his mind until he was nearing the end of his gap year and had to choose something tangible to study, and perhaps he’d made the right decision considering his knack for coding and the outrageous starting salary for his major, but his voice always waivers when someone asks what he’s studying.

After all, Jungkook is nothing like you.

Enter character: his childhood best friend, whose umbilical cord had only freshly been cut when they met, much too young to comprehend what he was even looking at. You were a year younger than him, but always a few grades ahead, thanks to your insane amount of academic aptitude (that came with the burden of being afraid to fail at all, but only Jungkook truly knows that), and you’d always, always, known what you wanted to be when you grew up.

You’d answer, voice too strong and vocabulary too poise for an elementary school kid; “My passion is to study law, like my mother.”

You stayed true to it, as well, and if Jungkook wasn’t too absorbed in being impressed by you, he would’ve been sad that you never had a true, silly dream — a princess, or a ballerina, or an astronaut, or anything that didn’t require you to be so stringent at such a young age. But you’d skipped 3rd grade, skipped senior year, went straight to Columbia, and then to Columbia Law; by the time you had graduated college, Jungkook was about halfway done with his gap year. Simply put, being impressed by you wasn’t difficult.

But back to the point he was making, Jungkook is nothing like you, but he misses seeing your face at the frequency he did when you lived next door. And he misses getting you your ridiculously overpriced iced white mochas from a very specific New York-based small business. And he misses you.

The thought of you makes the aforementioned memory with his mother run through his head a bit more persistently than usual, and it’s hard to ignore on an otherwise quiet Wednesday morning. That is, however, until his roommate pops his head into the bathroom.

Enter character: Jungkook’s roomie, Kim Mingyu. Ripped, tall, extremely attractive, and at any given point, either drunk off his ass, or high off his ass, or hungover as shit.

Today, it’s the latter, if the exhausted lily in his voice is any indication.

“Hey, JK.”

He blinks, and the man in question nods from the edge of the bathtub.

“How the hell do I kick this girl out.”

Jungkook’s toothpaste drips onto his wrist, and leans across the commode to spit it out.

“I don’t know, man. Ask her to leave, and give her breakfast money.”

He is not speaking from experience, but Mingyu nods as though he’s been given profound philosophical advice. Jungkook turns the tap on, and wonders how much his friend has had to drink when he visibly grimaces at the rush of the water.

“Thanks man. See you around.”

We live together, I’ll see you in literally one minute.

Jungkook nods, and lets Mingyu shut the door before he’s rinsing his mouth and tending to the very strict AM skincare regime he’s curated. The memory he was stuck on has taken another path to the back of his brain, and he’s thankful that he doesn’t have to think of it, think of you, or think of how much he misses his mother any longer.

He doesn’t, however, exit the bathroom immediately. The girl Mingyu had over is causing a ruckus in their living room, demanding to know why she’s being kicked out and simultaneously letting Jungkook know that his advice was definitely not taken into account; he’d be a bit offended if he couldn’t practically hear Mingyu’s head pounding as she steadily gets louder.

He decides Comp.Sci is a good option; he’s definitely going to get paid enough to not have to deal with this roommate bullshit once he’s out of this college, but he can’t help but feel bad for the girl, and feel worse for Mingyu.

Jungkook walks out when he hears the front door finally lock, and looks up a sobriety program on his phone as his roommate walks past him to his own room.

“Hey JK?”

He turns around, sheepishly hiding his phone without considering the fact that Mingyu is definitely seeing double and definitely didn’t make out his search.

“Yeah?”

“Do not do this one-night stand thing.”

Hey Mingyu? Do not do this alcohol thing.

Both pieces of advice are a bit too little too late, considering that the two of them are in their final years and are confidently past the stage of needing such freshman-esque tips, but Jungkook chooses to stay quiet so as to not rub salt into Mingyu’s wound, though he’s positive the latter is barely aware of this metaphorical wound.

“Yeah, thanks man.”

Mingyu nods again, this time affirmatively, as though he’s given some profound Kantean counseling before shutting his door. Jungkook copies the cheapest and closest sobriety program he finds, and pastes the link in his notes app for future reference.

—

When you were 17, late in your first year of college, your boyfriend had died.

It’s a horrible note to start off on, and it’s worse to have to think about it on a Wednesday, seeing as you reserve these deep delves into trauma for long weekends and bank holidays, but the thing about grief is that it presents itself in weird ways.

Today, you remember the wake. Specifically, you remember the coffee you’d drank afterwards, and how you’ve ended up with the same drink today. It wasn’t your fault, no, a shaken espresso is a common drink at the coffee shop next to campus, and there’s no way AJ would’ve known, seeing as it’s a detail you’ve quite literally never mentioned.

Enter character: AJ, or Alex Jacob Lee, your closest friend at law school, and barista of another overpriced coffee shop you frequent, not to be mistaken with the one further into the city from where you buy those sinfully good white mochas. He has a game going on with you, where he’ll conjure up a different drink for you every Wednesday after your last class, which aligns with his shifts there.

And today, he’s chosen a shaken espresso. Again, not his fault. Again, not a bad drink. It’s the way the bitterness sits on your tongue, and the first greetings of summer in the evening air that have you thinking of your boyfriend — ex-boyfriend, that is. You think of his smile, the closed casket he was laid to rest in because his body was pretty wrecked from the car crash, and you think of Jeon Jungkook.

You remember his arms around you, and you remember refusing to cry. You remember him buying you the drink, and you remember breaking down in front of him, showing any semblance of weakness for the first time in all your 17 years of knowing each other. You think of how much you miss him, how it’s been a good few weeks since you’ve seen him in person, you think of how you never actually fell in love with your boyfriend, and how broken you’d been after he passed.

You still feel the ebbing pain in the left side of your chest, but that’s not something you’re willing to admit. After all, it’s been a good 6 years since then, and you laid him to rest in the tresses of your mind the second you had left the cemetery after his wake.

When you’re done with the drink, you’re done with the memory, and you decide to return to the shop; that way, you can convince yourself that you’re fine, and you can convince AJ to get dinner with you. The coffee lingers in your mouth, though, and take a quick detour to the vending machine to the left of the shop to pick up a bottle of water and think about how horrible the placement of this machine is.

“Hey, you. What’s wrong? Drink not good enough today?”

AJ’s right next to you when you pick up the water from the slot at the bottom, and you find yourself smiling up at him instinctively.

“I think you’ve lost your touch, honestly.”

He laughs, you laugh with him, and your heart feels just a bit lighter after the thought you’ve just had to throttle out of your brain physically, which reminds you of why you returned to the shop in the first place. He looks down at you, gaze so fixed that you look away for a moment before you even open your mouth to speak.

“Wanna grab some dinner? I’m kinda winded, we can get pizza.”

He looks back at the shop, and then at you. The silence is comfortable, and you can hear the music from within the business as someone opens the door to enter. AJ’s expression is a bit hard to read, but the little furrow of his brow, and the way he’s avoiding eye contact tells you that he’s about to say no.

“Can I take a rain check? I’ve gotta finish up at the shop, and I have an early morning tomorrow.”

I’ll wait, and we won’t take long. We can just take it out, we don’t have to sit and eat.

Your mouth feels dry, tastes little like you’ve just thrown up bile, and your eyes shake just a bit as you think of what to say, think of where to look.

“Oh, yeah? No prob, Jakey.”

The nickname slips out, and his mouth droops into a lopsided grin. You don’t notice the twinkle of his eyes, because you’re too busy unscrewing the bottle of water, eager to finally get the tinge of coffee out of your mouth.

He doesn’t say much more, just tells you that he’ll see you around, and takes a quick jog back to work. Pulling your phone out of your pocket is a bit hard because of how hard your hands are shaking, and you clench your fingers together to stop them from doing so, though you’re not sure why you’re acting like this in the first place. Maybe it’s because you’ve just remembered one of the worst days of your life, maybe it’s because you needed company, maybe it’s because you know AJ doesn’t have classes early tomorrow, and maybe it’s because you miss your old best friend.

You decide it’s the latter, and when you finally, finally unlock your phone, you decide to call Jungkook.

The phone rings, and you can’t stand to hear the way AJ’s voice travels outside the coffee shop occasionally, so you walk onto the pavement, trying to focus on the obnoxious rings of the phone. You let it go to voicemail when he doesn’t pick up, and decide that you won’t deal with rejection today, so text him to get dinner with you instead

[to JayKayz] hey, you down to get some pizza tonight?

[to JayKayz] i’ll take the train to NYU and you can meet me at 2 bros?

You figure he’s either in, or finishing his last class, hence the lack of response for the first ten minutes or so, which severely dampens your mood on the way to the train station, but he replies soon after, and you’d be lying if you said your mood didn’t do an entire 180.

[from JayKayz] this is fucking insane cuz I was literally just thinking about you this morning

[from JayKayz] yes to pizza btw.

[from JayKayz] sorry I didn’t pick up I was dealing with Mingyu who’s fucking drunk again.

[from JayKayz] text me when ur on campus and I’ll pick you up.

You have to physically fight yourself from smiling like a psychopath, which is awkward since you don’t really know why you’re smiling. Maybe it’s because he was thinking of you, maybe it’s because he said he’s, or maybe it’s because it’s funny how fed up he is with his roommate who definitely needs to attend a sobriety program. You decide it’s the latter, and your heart isn’t on edge the whole time you make your way to Jeon Jungkook’s university.

—

The thing about you and Jungkook is that there’s nothing awkward about the silences that tend to ensue between the two of you. It’s not uncommon for there to be no words spoken, especially in the past few years — Jungkook has always been an introvert, and school tends to tire you out of being able to carry the conversation. It’s okay, it’s normal, and it’s happened a lot since you moved out to be nearer to campus, but you’re different today.

Jungkook notices the shift almost as soon as you sit down across from him and slide him his coke, hands otherwise empty, saying absolutely nothing else. Typically (read: every single time the two of you eat at 2Bros Pizza, which is not rare), you make fun of him for ordering the Meat Supreme slice, and you always get a coke float for yourself, which reminds him of the time there was a new employee working the Night Shift, and you, in your drunken stupor, almost jumped the counter when he didn’t know how to make one for you. He tucks the memory aside to ask you what’s wrong:

“No float today? Finally saw the light?”

It comes out wrong, less empathetic than he’d like to be, seeing as you’re visibly struggling with something, but it seems to break you out of your own head, and you look up at him. Your eyes shine under the streetlight just a couple inches away from the table the two of you sit at, and the way a smile breaks across your face sends something akin to a shiver down his spine.

“Yeah, I had a coffee earlier. AJ and I have a game going, so - uh, yeah, I’m not that thirsty right now.l

Jungkook remembers this guy, but he also notices the way you’ve started to chew on the right side of your lip as you think about him. He hums quietly, opening his mouth to speak when you beat him to it.

“How’s Mingyu by the way? Day drinking again?”

He laughs out loud, taking a bite out of his pizza. You do the same, eyes a bit less dazed as you listen intently to whatever he’s about to say, but he doesn’t speak for a while again, and the silence that ensues this time is more comfortable than before.

It’s something about Jungkook that’s routinely, and you don’t hate it at all. You’ve been a stickler for organization, for schedules, for routine for as long as you can remember, and while you and him are quite different, you can tell that Jungkook appreciates the stability you bring.

You remember being a child and coming here with your family, Jungkook with his. Your mom would share a cheese slice with you, and his mom would share the abominable Meat Premium slice with him. You’d get a coke float, and his eyebrows would furrow as he animatedly talked about how good everything tasted, almost looking upset because it was delicious. You’d stay quiet, sharing an exasperatedly fond look with the two women who sat across from each other, and then you’d look at Jungkook.

And then, you look at Jungkook.

He has the same pinch in his eyebrows, but he’s been eating here for over a decade so the comments about how good the food is have dwindled, and he just slurps obscenely at the cheese, occasionally stopping to take an equally obscene swig of his drink. You’d be disgusted if AJ ate that way, but it’s Jungkook, so you just laugh, and the question you asked about his roommate dissipates from where it was hanging in the air.

“So this AJ guy, what’s his deal?”

You pause mid-bite, looking a bit confused; the timing is scary, and it’s almost like Jungkook's managed to read your mind in the past minute. You answer with a question of your own.

“So this Mingyu guy, what’s his deal?”

“Touché.”

“No like, actually, though,” you let out a laugh at the way Jungkook goes back to devouring his food. “He needs to get to a sobriety program.”

“Dude, for real. I was literally looking one up for him this morning, like it’s an actual fucking problem and he refuses to acknowledge it.”

“Have you actually tried to get him to acknowledge it?”

Jungkook is many things; he’s smart, capable, strong, his eyes are bright under the streetlights, and he’s compassionate, but he’s never been confrontational. Though you don’t doubt he’s concerned for his friend, you also don’t doubt that he’s never brought it up in front of Mingyu, at least directly; you reckon there’s been a lot of beating around the bush, a lot of surreptitious monologues about ‘seeking help when you need’, etcetera. The thought makes you laugh, and Jungkook looks at you quizzically.

“I mean, I made him watch a TED talk about sobriety last week, and he seemed intrigued…”

You raise a brow. Jungkook would bully you relentlessly for watching those videos, and you doubt he’d watch them even with someone’s best interest in mind.

“We were both high.”

The two of you laugh, looking away so as to not break entirely, and then accidentally making eye contact, breaking almost immediately after.

His laughter is loud, bright, and it brings you back to when you were kids.

You laugh silently, taking in large gasps of air whenever you feel the need to, and Jungkook can’t help but think of how you’ve had this habit since you were a toddler.

When a few tears slip inevitably, Jungkook doesn’t let you use the collar of your shirt to wipe them like AJ typically does, using the pads of his fingers to gently flick them off of your cheeks. (It’s another thing he’s done for years now, but you don’t think about it in the afterglow of laughing so hard that your ribs sting a bit.)

Thinking of AJ reminds you of the question Jungkook asked you before you grilled him about Mingyu. You wonder why you avoided it so desperately, and you wonder why you’re thinking so much about AJ today, when Jungkook is right in front of you.

He’s pretty like this, the pizza parlor’s sign lights up a little after 21:30, and the green and red hues make the dewy skin of his face look softer. He’s chewing at his straw, and has a lazy grin on his face, occasionally giggling when he undoubtedly remembers the outburst the two of you just had.

It’s simple, routinely, laughing with Jungkook, being with Jungkook, and your mind is no longer clouded with the wake, with how much your Tort Law professor hates your whole class, with how AJ lied to you, but you don’t suppose it’d be the worst thing to not leave Jungkook hanging.

“What about AJ, by the way?”

He looks up, and his eyes are just as big as they used to be when he was a toddler.

“You asked what his deal was, what’d you mean?”

Jungkook’s lazy grin is back as he stares at you, reaching across the table to push back a strand of hair that you hadn’t even noticed fall into your face. His touch is warm, and you hope the bright red light of the sign masks the soft blush that warms your face when he strokes the underside of your jaw before pulling away.

“I meant, like, you know,” he pauses, but you shake your head, still confused. Jungkook breathes to regroup, and continues. “The Wednesday drink thing, and how he’s the homescreen of your phone, and how you’re blushing right now after bringing him up? I know dating’s a bit tough but like, maybe there’s something there?”

The realization dawns upon you; Jungkook thinks you’re into AJ, and vice versa. You don’t know why it makes your stomach turn, so you attribute it to the pizza you’ve just had and the coffee from earlier.

The ridiculous urge to defend yourself like Jungkook’s accused you of something fights it’s way up your throat, accompanied by bile. You swallow it down, clearing your throat before you start your rebuttal statement. (You don’t think about how you’re thinking of this like a case, when it’s quite literally just your best friend talking about who you’re dating).

“The Wednesday drink thing’s only because he has a shift there after I’m done with classes, and it’s not like he gives them to me for free.”

Jungkook can’t tell why you look so serious now, back straight and face cold, voice icy. It’s a sharp contrast to the way you were speaking only a mere 10 minutes prior, and he wants to tell you that it’s nothing serious; that he wasn’t accusing you.

“He’s the homescreen of my phone because I look good in the picture, and also because it’s from my 21st birthday, which was just a good day in my life —“

“I think y-you misunderstood me?”

He doesn’t sound confident, but you stop speaking, unable to tell him that you weren’t, in fact, blushing because of AJ.

“There’s nothing there, Jungkook.”

He looks down, and then back up at you, the prickly feeling of discomfort crawling across his chest. Jungkook isn’t sure why he feels cornered, why he feels upset at the way you responded to something innocent he said.

It makes him think of another time, back in your first year of law school when he’d asked you why you hadn’t called him for a week; you’d straightened up, basically recounted every assignment you had due, every other engagement you had, went to hell and back to justify yourself when he was just asking a question.

It makes him think of countless other times, when you’d dissect questions like he was a prosecutor in a courtroom, when you’d pounce at him at the slightest indication of being cornered, when you’d feel the need to justify and self-assess even if he wasn't even in a 100 mile radius of asking you to do that.

He wants to tell you that you don’t have to feel like he’s forcing an answer out of you, that you have a life and you could’ve just laughed it off, that you don’t have to be afraid to have human instincts and relationships and that you’re his best friend.

Instead, he ignores the way your eyes look glossy, ignores the clear indication that you’ve had a stupidly hard day, ignores the screaming cries for someone to tell you that it’s okay, for someone to just ask what’s wrong — something he’s been on the fence of doing for the whole evening. He ignores it all, and gets up to throw his plate away.

“I’m sorry —“

“Need me to walk you to the train station?”

“Uh, no. I got it. Thanks.”

You follow with your own plate, picking your bag up from the seat beside you, and wave at Jungkook a bit awkwardly. He waves back, still not making eye contact with you, and lets you walk away without saying a word more.

Jungkook tries not to think about how pretty you are, tries not to think about how you’re going to cry in the solitude of your room which is how you’ve always dealt with emotions, tries not to think about whatever you could’ve been thinking of that had you on the edge the entire evening. He tries to think about Mingyu, sobriety, and a fraternity party he has to go to tomorrow. He tries to think about skipping his last class, and ends up thinking about how lovely your smile is.

You text AJ to pick you up from campus despite the fake excuse he’d thrown at you earlier even though you don’t really want to think of him, and you hope the person sitting across from you on the train doesn’t notice how you’re crying. It’s your boyfriend, it’s Jungkook and how you lashed out at him for no reason, it’s fucking AJ, and how Jungkook thinks you’re dating him when he’s just lied to you — it’s how AJ lied to you about a morning class — it’s Tort Law, and it’s the shaken espresso you had that seems to still linger on your tongue. You try to think about a party you’ve been invited to tomorrow, try to think about how badly you need to get laid, and end up thinking about Jungkook’s pretty eyes.

—

AJ ends up picking you up from outside the train station, and if he notices your red-rimmed eyes, he doesn’t say anything.

Jungkook’s words, the cause of you snapping him, his insinuations all come to mind when AJ’s this close to you. You can smell his deodorant, you can feel the thin hoodie he dons on your sleeve, you can hear the small breaths he takes; I know dating’s a bit tough but like, maybe there’s something there?”

Is there? You wished you would’ve asked Jungkook to elaborate on this theory of his; he’s observant, and as aforementioned, not one for confrontation of any kind — the thought makes your head hurt with guilt because you’ve just shown him that he shouldn’t, in fact, confront people lest they give him a reaction anywhere similar to yours — and it’s apparent that he was probably sitting on the thought for a while.

Is there? AJ looks at you warmly, the Wednesday drink thing is a bit intimate, he knows your schedule, knows your professors and how you feel about them, knows your apartment even when he's drunk and it’s dark, and you know all of these things when it comes to him. You think about it for a moment, and when you look up at him, he’s already staring down at you. It’s kind, a bit far away like he was doing some thinking of his own, too, and you’re grateful he doesn’t look away immediately.

AJ and you make sense together, if you were to put it logistically. Met in Law School, were friends for years before potentially getting together, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel like a puzzle piece fitting into place. But logistics aren’t the game you play, and the longer you look at him, the more it settles in that there isn’t really much there. With Jungkook, for example, you’d notice the pretty doe shape in his eyes, the scar above his cheek, the slope of his nose and how when he blushes, the pink spreads from the tips of his ears inwards — with AJ, all you see is a handsome face.

Jungkook is your best friend, though, and again, it makes more sense to notice these nuances with him than with AJ and fuck, why are you even thinking about this?

AJ continues to look at you, and you’re thankful, not for his eerie silence as much as for the fact that he’s walking you home at night after you’ve had such a rough day. If being with Jungkook is routine, AJ is the soft of your sheets after a long day — he’s always there, always with you, even if he doesn’t really say anything to you.

(You fight this thought from appearing in your head, but evidently fail.)

Even today, he didn’t question where you were coming from, didn’t say that he couldn’t come get you because he had this supposed ‘early morning’ (which he didn’t, which you could not get over), didn’t say a single word, at least it until you did.

It’s a quiet question, one that has lingered in the back of your mind for the whole evening: “Why’d you lie, Alex?”

He looks startled, both at the rare use of his first name, and by the question itself.

“What… what do you mean, exactly?” His laugh is a bit forced, and he steps away from you, looking away.

“You said you have an early morning, but I know your Crim. Justice class starts at 2. You could’ve just said you didn’t wanna have dinner with me —“ you laugh at the end, hoping to lighten the atmosphere but it doesn’t work.

There is seriously something wrong with you today, but AJ breaks through that thought with a laugh.

“Early morning for work, ___. Internships don’t start till June, but doesn’t Cravath ask you to come in sometimes? It’s that. Some petty admin work.”

Your heart stops trying to commit suicide, and your shoulders relax for the first time since AJ handed you that damn drink this morning. You’d both landed top internships; you with Cravath, AJ with Watchell Lipton, and he was right, because you have gone in to do ‘petty admin work’ for them in the past month since you were accepted.

It’s a happy reminder of how well you’re doing, a happy reminder that your friend didn’t just lie to you, and you can’t help but laugh. It’s a sheepish one that turns genuine when you realize how accusatory you’d been, and you’re grateful again that he starts laughing along with you.

(You don’t notice his laugh the same way you did with Jungkook, but you also don’t dwell on that too much.)

“Fuck, man. I’m sorry, I’m really sorry.”

He throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his upper body so he can plant a loud kiss on the crown of your head. It’s something he does with everyone, but the conversation you had over dinner remains at the forefront of your mind and you close your eyes to really take in the proximity, the ease with which he just touches you, the way it feels natural, and the way you don’t mind.

“Maybe you should ask questions on the spot instead of working yourself into a frenzy about them, huh?”

“Maybe I should. No yeah, I definitely should. I don't know why I’m being slick about it —“

He laughs at that, taking your hand to spin you in front of him, and then around.

If AJ notices the way your hair frames your face when he stops puppeteering you, if he notices the way your laugh echoes in his mind after you’ve stopped, if he notices the way you’ve remembered his classes, he doesn’t do anything about it. He had, however, noticed the way you were so obviously crying, and though he refuses to pry lest he invade your privacy, lest he finds out that he might’ve been the reason.

He stays quiet about it, though, all the way till he reaches the lobby of your apartment complex, which is when he repeats what Jungkook had done just about an hour prior, fixing a strand of your messy hair.

(You don’t blush like you had when Jungkook had done it, but AJ also doesn’t touch the underside of your jaw as gingerly as Jungkook had, so you convince yourself that it’s nothing)

“If it was hayfever, I know a great remedy, but if not, you should know that whatever you had to cry about, that it’s okay. If you can do Tort Law with Henderson, you can do anything.”

His assurance, paired with the fact that he hadn’t lied, paired with the fact that he’d kissed your head, paired with the way he’d spun you around like he was starring in some Glen Powell rom-com, paired with the way that he’d come and pick you up in the first place — all of it settles your heart fully, and you don’t even really remember why you’d cried in the first place.

“Thank you. For picking me up, and I’m sorry that I was so, you know —“

“Don’t worry about it, it’s literally going to be your job to be ‘so, you know’ okay?”

You nod, chuckling lightly, and watch him wave you goodbye. If you pronounce your own wave a little extra so he laughs at it and isn’t even slightly worried about you being upset, nobody has to know. And if you still can’t stop thinking about Jungkook and how you need to apologize to him, nobody has to know.

—

Jungkook despises his schedule on Thursdays. It’s class after class, a shift at his job, another class, and another class — typically, by the end of the day, his brain is nothing but mush, he’s frazzled; exhausted, and passes out for a much simpler Friday, but as it is, there’s been a lot more unconventional breaks in routine than he’s used to, and he ends up going to a party after his final class on this particular Thursday.

Mingyu invited him, but he’s not thinking about that, because thinking of his roommate makes him think of his conversation with you, which makes him think of how abruptly your manner had changed, which makes him feel bad for you, and also a little upset that you spoke to him that way, which makes him think of the notifications on his phone that he’s definitely not ignoring right now.

[from Elle Woods] jeongguk

[from Elle Woods] im sorry, i don’t know what that was or why I got so defensive about aj, and you didn’t deserve it

[from Elle Woods] i really missed you, it’s been weeks since we’ve talked

[from Elle Woods] actually, can i just call you?

[2 missed calls from Elle Woods]

He’d feel a little bad, because he knows that if you owe each other something, anything, it’s communication — you’ve been friends since you were literal infants, and he should know that there’s probably a very reasonable explanation for yesterday but he shuts his phone off, and recites the excuse for whenever he decides to get back to you.

___ie, I’m sorry, I was just busy — you know how Thursdays are, right?

He’s sure you’ll understand, and he can’t bring himself to continue thinking about it lest he breaks and gets himself into a longer-than-necessary phone call with you when he could be getting shitfaced to forget about the day he’s had; either that, or protecting Mingyu from throwing himself into premature liver failure as best as he possibly can.

Jungkook finds himself shoveling any remaining thoughts of you to the back of his head, another thing he’s being doing unconventionally often, and his short commute to the fraternity house Mingyu’s typo-filled message points him towards — another thing that should debase him, but the promise of alcohol (with a borderline frightening amount of emojis) keeps him going.

He realizes soon, that senior year is an absolute bitch, because it’s been months since he’s seen half of these people and it’s like nostalgia’s kicked him in the mouth, followed by the pungence of miscellaneous alcoholic drinks that you can only drink half a cup of before blacking out, followed by the familiar twinge of the fraternity party patented sweat.

He’s broken out of this haze, watching people pass by him as he slumps against the doorframe of the kitchen by the vaguely familiar voice of somebody he used to know very well —

“Jungkookie? At a party? As I live and breathe!”

Enter character: Lim Nayoung, Jungkook’s ex-fuckbuddy, ex-situationship, near ex-girlfriend. Though the first two are terms exclusively used by high school students, there’s really no other way to describe the relation he has (had) with her, and even as he hears her voice, there’s a rush of emotion that he had to swallow down before he gets a good look at her.

She’s, well, a sight to see; though Jungkook told her he liked her long hair a lot (especially when she styled it like yours, which isn’t something he’s willing to say out loud), she has it cut short. He thinks it suits her, and he makes a mental note to let her know as he tries his best to take a once-over of her subtly, but gives up shortly when he notices her gaze on him; expectant.

“It’s been a while, huh?” A soft grin makes its way up his face, and he fights the urge to pull her into a hug. “I love the hair.”

“What happened to liking it long? In that weird 90s blowout?”

(Your ‘weird 90s blowout’. The same hair you’ve been wearing since junior year of high school, but Nayoung doesn’t have to know, and Jungkook doesn’t want to tell her.)

“I actually still like that look, but this is working for you, baby,” the pet name slips from his lips, force of habit, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t notice the way her eyes lit up for a second. “Where’s everyone else?” It’s a quick attempt to salvage his slip-up, but it doesn’t seem like Nayoung notices the deflection. She doesn’t point him to the group of friends he’s so familiar with, though, instead dragging him by the forearm into the kitchen.

He catches sight of Mingyu by the drinks as Nayoung pours him something from a punch bowl, bright red with fruits strewn about the top, and Jungkook’s sure just a smell of it would kill a medieval peasant. He does, in fact have an incentive for being here, and is reminded of that by his aforementioned roommate’s loud shriek of his name.

Nayoung gets to him before Mingyu, passing him a solo cup that she so graciously garnished with an orange slice, and he strokes her hair as a silent thanks, and a preemptive apology for what’s about to hit her, vis-à-vis Hurricane Mingyu;

“Yo, JK? You came, man!” The side hug he gets is sloppy, and Mingyu’s voice is so slurred that Jungkook can’t help but assume he’s been pre-gaming this for a while. The thought is cut off violently when his jaw is grabbed, forehead pressing against Mingyu’s in a manner too intimate for Jungkook to deal with without alcohol in his system. “You’re the man, I can’t believe we haven’t partied at all this year!” He shoves Jungkook away, while the latter looks dazed (read: disgusted) at how strongly Mingyu’s breath smelled of alcohol.

He takes a sip of the concoction in his cup, wincing just a bit as the gasoline-y aftertaste fully settles in, right before the realization that it has, indeed, been way too long since he's last been to a party at all. He downs the drink, trying not to let his aversion show immediately before he looks down at Nayoung, nodding towards the drinks again.

“Down like water, huh? What happened to my whiskey addict?” Nayoung’s voice is bleary over the terrible EDM drop that’s just played over the speakers, but Jungkook laughs anyways — whiskey’s been his drink of choice ever since you managed to get away with buying a bottle at 17, and he thinks about you every single time he drinks it; more specifically, the way you’d all but hurled it in front of a bodega, and then the way the two of you had drunkenly ran off.

Whatever was in the drink is working, apparently, because Jungkook can feel the buzz of the drink in his veins, and as he pushes aside the memory of the two of you, there’s a burst of confidence that pulses through him. It isn’t anything forward, just the personality so many of his friends were well acquainted with — cocky, a little egotistical, a little too hot for his own good — fighting it’s way out of the somber senior he’s been playing for a good few months now.

He leans against the punch table so he’s eye-level with Nayoung, who shies away from the sudden proximity, and if she’s blushing just a bit, he pretends like he doesn’t notice in favor of grabbing the drink out of her hand and drinking it all in one go. It stings on its way down, and she stares at him, mouth agape at what she’s just seen him do twice in a row.

“There’s like, an entire bottle of vodka in that.”

Jungkook smiles, a little lazy and a little lopsided.

“Is there another full bottle somewhere?”

The catastrophic thing about Jungkook isn’t that he makes bad decisions, it’s just that he refuses to admit when he’s made a bad decision.

To set the scene, think of Jungkook, on the lawn of the insanely big glorified fraternity mansion, 7 shots of vodka in and drunk enough that his equilibrium is fully askew and he’s slurring his words in the dialect only you’re familiar with, one he’s grown out of years ago.

Nayoung is still by his side, reasonably sober compared to him, and a couple of his friends — both close and those who he all but neglected in favor of computer science senior year — surround him. They’ve chosen the surprisingly well kempt area because EDM and copious amounts of alcohol stop making sense when you hit your twenties, and as it is, Jungkook’s previous attempts to keep you out of his brain are failing horrifically.

They talk about the time Nayoung and Jungkook got drunk, called Namjoon and told him the only identifiable landmark was the moon, talk about Seokjin throwing up at the foot of the Statue of Liberty, talk about their lives, Mingyu talks about his endeavors in bed (which is weird because he definitely doesn’t know half the people in this vicinity) and Jungkook thinks about you.

He thinks about feeling bad that he’s not replying, thinks about how you don’t drink a lot because drunk driving killed your boyfriend, thinks about how smart you are and how he wishes you had an easier childhood, how he wishes you weren’t so hard on yourself, wishes you were here and that you hadn’t moved out, wishes he could see you everyday, and wishes that he could just get you out of his head.

He thinks about you, uncharacteristically quiet until Nayoung calls him on it —

“What’s got you all worked up?” Her question is really just a figure of speech, but he wants to tell her everything because if anyone knows Jungkook even a smidge close to the way you know him, it’s Nayoung.

“N’thin, nothing,” he takes a pause to breathe out, regroup and look down at Nayoung. It takes him a while to really gather that the group has split up, all going their separate ways after getting shitfaced, presumably to find themselves another drink or a hookup. He wonders if you’ve ever hooked up with someone at a party, wonders if you’d say yes if he were to ask —

“Wanna go upstairs? I hate this fucking music.”

[In retrospect, he should’ve known, at that point, that he was making a horrible mistake, but again, he’d never admit it]

“Yeah. Not because I wanna sit in a fraternity kid’s bed, but because I wanna shoot Avicii right about now.” It takes Nayoung a while to comprehend his slurred words, but she laughs at the sentiment before telling him that Avicii’s very much not alive. It makes Jungkook grin morbidly, and he finds himself grabbing her hand to pull her back into the house.

In the essence of wanting to be a good friend, he looks around to catch a glimpse of Mingyu anywhere, and finds him near the kitchen. He’s, surprisingly so, not drunk outwardly, but Jungkook figures that’s bound to change soon; the party is nowhere near being over. His roommate catches Nayoung’s hand in his, and shoots him a horrifically confused look, which Jungkook pays no mind to.

It doesn’t take long for them to make their way upstairs and into the only bedroom on the floor that isn’t locked or mysteriously producing obscene pornstar-esque sex sounds, and even though the bed is horribly unkempt in a way that would become the butt of your jokes for months on end, they settle.

Fuck, Jungkook has got to stop thinking about you. It’s becoming dangerously apparent that you’re becoming the forefront of his thoughts this evening, and he just can’t figure out why. It’s happened before, too, every time he’d go out to get lunch or dinner with you, every time you’d force him to come with you to The Met or every time he’d force you to come with him to a Yankees game, you’d just plague his brain for the next couple of days. He thinks it because you’re his best friend, that it’s normal to think about someone who’s entire childhood has been riddled with yours, but he can’t exactly focus on that thought when Nayoung pulls her jacket off.

It’s one she bought when they used to… be involved, and Jungkook smiles ever so lightly when he remembers the day.

“That from our little detour to Jersey?”

She looks up at him, and the light of the room is a bit too dim to properly make out her features, but it reflects off of her collarbones, gets his mind all fuzzy when she reciprocates the dopey smile he has on.

“Yeah, yep. I always keep the memorabilia.”

“I mean, the other memorabilias,” he quotes the word, still feeling really fucking buzzed, “were just tattoos. Bit hard to get rid of those, huh?”

Nayoung laughs, and Jungkook feels the claws of past intimacy scratch down his back. It’s familiar, being like this with her, and he values that. Values her, even if she never really gave him an actual reason for breaking it off — ‘we’re in different places, clearly’ she’d told him, and if he sat down to really think about it, he might be able to decipher her words in the context of their relationship but Jungkook literally cannot think of more than three things at once right now.

She lies down flat on the bed, and he has half a mind to tell her off about frat boys and their abysmal hygiene, but he thinks it’s a good idea, and readjusts himself so he’s laying right next to her. She tilts her head to look at him, and he finds the ceiling to be the most interesting thing in the world as soon as it registers in his mind what might be happening.

“What happened with you?”

“Huh?”

“Just… how you disappeared after senior year, how you were dozing off even when you’re definitely drunk. It’s so unlike you to not be like, the one keeping the conversation going.”

I can’t stop thinking about my best friend. I’m worried about her, and senior year is ruining my life because I’m not sure I even want to do computer science and my roommate needs to be put in a sobriety program and I need to talk to my best friend right now but I’m ignoring her.

“Yeah, it’s just — work stuff, ya know? ‘S been crazy this year. You know.”

Though his intentions aren’t to give her the wrong idea about this ordeal, he can’t help himself from turning his head to look at her. He laughs, and she doesn’t wince even when his (presumably) vodka-smelling breath hits her face. Nayoung’s giggle is quiet, and she lifts a hand to his head to push back his hair.

If Jungkook keens just a bit, nobody has to know.

“I don’t know, really. I mean, I don’t have a sick internship, so work’s not that bad for me.”

Jungkook’s pupils are blown out, and when Nayoung’s eyes meet his, he sobers up enough for him to realize just how close they are. With a portion of his brain suddenly not inebriated, he should realize what’s happening, he should pull away, but he also realizes that you haven’t crossed his head for a good couple of minutes, which is good enough of a sign for him to stay put.

“Your thing with ___ not work out?”

He’s confused at why you’re being brought up, but he shakes his head as best as he can manage; there’s no way she remembers you, and there’s no way she thought there was a ‘thing’ between you and him. That would be weird, but he can’t help but think of what she’d said — we’re in different places, clearly.

Different places.

“There was… no thing.”

“So there’s nothing with her and you?”

“No, Nayoung-ie. Never was.”

Different places? Was there a thing?

When she kisses him, he doesn’t stop her.

(And when she asks him to fuck her; delirious, eyes wide, skin dewy, he doesn’t stop himself.)

It’s messy, limbs tangled as he’s basically bent her over in half to plow his cock into her, more drunk off the pretty sounds she makes — familiarly, intimacy — than the copious amounts of drinks he’s had. She’s moaning his name out like a prayer, and he’s leaning over her like a god, and Jungkook’s stopped being religious, but he thinks it’s sin, the way she envelopes him and gives herself to him. The way he doesn’t have to ask, the way she’s meeting his hips halfway.

Exodus 20:14, Proverbs 6:32, Hebrews 13:4 — You shall not commit adultery, But a man who commits adultery has no sense; whoever does so destroys himself, Marriage should be honored by all, and the marriage bed kept pure, for God will judge the adulterer and all the sexually immoral.

He remembers these verses, and he remembers your pretty eyes, and you’re all he can think about when he looks down at Nayoung. Does that make him an adulterer? Does that make him a cheater, dirty, sinful? He fucks into her deeper, inevitably hits the spot — familiarity, intimacy — and drinks her moans in. He remembers the slope of your nose, and how you’d laughed together over dinner a day ago, how your eyes had looked under the streetlights. Nayoung tears up, tells him it feels so fucking good, and he thinks of the tears in your eyes. His hips stutter, and it makes her dig her blunt nails into the clothes expanse of his shoulders, but he welcomes the pain better than he welcomes the guilt of having let you walk away.

He feels wretched, feels horribly for Nayoung and feels the vodka in his system crawl its way up his throat but he keeps it down. He’s close, she’s close, and if this was a bad decision, nobody has to know.

Jungkook feels her lose herself over him, and he lets his mind drift to you one last time, biting his lip so he doesn’t groan out your name as his hips lose their rhythm. When he pulls out, one hand lazily pumping his cock, he tries to picture Nayoung, her tits bouncing pretty under her shirt, how she’s trying to regroup all because of him, how she laughed and how it felt when she touched his hair but all his brain can manage is you.

Fuck, he feels wretched. Disgusting, like it’s incestual to think about you the way he is but he welcomes it, let’s you into his mind after fighting it for hours, and when he spills all over Nayoung’s stomach, there’s some sick gratification that coats him.

And that’s the thing about Jungkook. This was a horrible decision, down to every last detail. Fucking your ex-fuckbuddy in a random frat boy’s room after getting shitfaced because you haven’t drank that much in months, and ending up thinking about your best friend even if the goal was to not do that? Bad, bad decision.

But he takes it in stride. Thinks of this as a silver lining, a distraction from you as though you haven’t clouded his head like a stupid wet dream while he fucked somebody else.

And that’s the thing about Jungkook. He refuses to admit that he’s messed up.

Jungkook doesn’t take much time to recuperate from sex. He has incredible stamina coming from the insane workout regime he absolutely has to keep up with, and he can definitely go multiple times in one night, thank you very much, but he can’t bring himself to even think of agreeing to fuck Nayoung again.

He hopes she’s on the same page when he looks at her, the pacing of her breath slowing down as she sits up slowly. He reaches out, stroking her arm right above her elbow where the matching tattoo she got with him sits. Jungkook distracts himself from deciding on what to say as he recalls how they’d gotten it together, how he’d called you right after to show —

Fuck, he hadn’t even thought about you. Granted, you don’t fit into the situation very well, but he doesn’t doubt that you’ll be impartial to telling him off about what he’s just done. He thinks about what to tell you, and remembers the unread messages on his phone, and remembers what he should be doing, which is somehow getting the idea of ever doing this again out of Nayoung’s head.

“Well, you’re never gonna be bad at sex.”

He laughs sheepishly, shuffling to pull his boxers over his still exposed dick. He has no idea what the hell to say to that, and it seems like it’s about to lead to a monologue about how since he’s never ‘gonna be bad at sex’, that they should continue — or return — to be fuckbuddies.

Fuck.

“But we aren’t doing that again.”

Jungkook’s neck snaps up and he lets out a breath of relief he had no idea he was even holding. Nayoung looks incredibly beautiful, and he would lay everything at her feet out of gratitude because she’s just made this whole ordeal inexplicably easy for him. Her face is bright, like it always used to get after they fucked, and Jungkook feels a bout of familiarity catch in his throat, this time accompanied with a sick rush of guilt.

“Uh, w-why do you say that?” His voice is gentle, coaxing the answer out of her, though he can predict what she’s about to say.

We’re in different places, clearly.

“I mean, you were shitfaced just half an hour ago. This was like, a drunken rebound,” Jungkook laughs at that, quiet and low, reaching up to rub at his nape. He doesn’t feel as drunk now, but Nayoung’s next words definitely do the job of sobering him up. “You’re fun, but I want a relationship before I graduate and I honestly don’t think you even like me.”

His world pauses for a split second, and his heart breaks for her; because he made her feel unloved.

Jungkook thinks of Nayoung. Sitting in front of him, face tinged a bit pink from the incredible sex (Exodus 20:14, Proverbs 6:32, Hebrews 13:4), hair cut short and hair long in a blowout (the one you sport all the time) (he thinks your hair is the prettiest shade of brown, and he remembers running his fingers through it). He thinks of Nayoung, matching tattoos and drives to Jersey and how she kissed him with so much fervency and how he tried so hard to match it.

“Your thing with ___ not work out?”

He thinks of calling you after getting tattoos, thinks of how your laugh echoed through his phone in the empty street. He thinks of texting you (shit, he has to text you) for ideas of things to give Nayoung. He thinks of Nayoung opening those gifts and throwing her arms around his neck. He thinks of getting drunk with Nayoung and telling her about childhood memories with you — he thinks of the house you grew up in and the one next to it, where he grew up.

He thinks of you telling him how hard school was, how young you were in high school. He thinks of you crying when your boyfriend died. He thinks of your overpriced white mochas and 2Bros Pizza and fucking AJ. He thinks of how you told him to date Nayoung about two years ago, he thinks about how you’ve always been under this multitude of pressure to excel, and he thinks about how he loves you, and how he loves (fuck) Nayoung.

“Of course I like you, Nana.”

Jungkook remembers how she’d lay down on his bicep after he fucked her one night, telling him about the silly nickname. He remembers thinking then, about how you never had a silly nickname because your parents were too focused on getting you into the top ranking kindergarten in all of the Upper East Side. He remembers laughing at Nayoung’s story, and then making a note to give you a stupid nickname.

And then, Jungkook realizes she’s right.

He doesn’t like her, at least not enough to date her. He thinks of his best friend more than he thinks of her, and Nayoung probably already knows this, hence her little comment earlier.

“Your thing with ___ not work out?”

“But I think I like you too much to fuck you and let myself leave it at that. So you’re wrong about that. But I also think that I can’t give you that relationship. I’m busy, and I think I need to figure out like, my future job and stuff and fuck, I’m sorry if I led you on.”

The look Nayoung gives him reaches down into his stomach and tugs at his gut. She looks pitiful, like he’s the one who’s being hurt in this situation. He looks equally as confused as she does woeful.

“I don’t think your job is all you need to figure out, Jungkook.”

“Your thing with ___ not work out?”

Exodus 20:14, Proverbs 6:32, Hebrews 13:4

He doesn’t ask her what she means, and she doesn’t elaborate.

Jungkook watches her redress, and he chooses to do the same as the reality of being butt naked on a random frat boy’s bed nearly gives him whiplash.

He feels the weight of his phone in the back pocket of his jeans, and realizes how desperately he needs to talk to you, to let you talk to him. To let you tell him what went wrong yesterday. He thinks he won’t tell you what just went down with Nayoung.

Nayoung.

She’s beautiful in her clothes again, a little messy, but Jungkook feels the urge to never let anyone hurt her, including himself. It’s love, he knows immediately, when the dim lamp hits the apples of her cheeks and he can see the flutter in her eyelashes when she blinks. But it’s not romantic, and he’s a bit relieved when he realizes this. (It feels nothing like how he does when he looks at you). This love is platonic, not brotherly but friendly, like he’d pick her up from a club and remember her restaurant orders and be the one to haze any of her boyfriends.

And he tells her just this.

“I love you, Nana. You know that, yeah?”

She looks over at him, and it must click in her head what he's implying, because her eyes brighten just a little.

(If they’re glossing over because she’s about to cry, Jungkook will pretend he doesn’t notice.)

“I love you too, Jungkook. You know that, yeah?”

He nods, and he feels the taste of his love for her heavy on his tongue. This love is platonic, not brotherly but friendly, like he’d pick her up from a club and remember her restaurant orders and be the one to haze any of her boyfriends.

(He thinks he loves you platonically as well.)

(If the love he feels when he looks at you is entirely different than the love he feels when he looks at Nayoung, even though he cites them both as being platonic, nobody has to know.)

—

[from JayKayz] im sorry baby, i didn’t check my phone all day.

[from JayKayz] you know how thursdays are.

[from JayKayz] dont apologize. i don’t wanna talk over call, twll me when you’re free

—

It’s about a month after the small reconciliation that Jungkook tells you about how he’d fucked Nayoung.

The last couple of weeks have been incredible; works dwindled down over the past couple of weeks for the both of you, finals are in their last bow before summer, and after a brunch at one of Manhattan’s finest rooftop bars where the two of you had drank a shit ton of margaritas, the guilt of potentially offending Jungkook no longer eats you alive.

It reminds Jungkook of, funnily enough, his freshman year of college — going out as he came in — when the grief of losing your boyfriend wasn’t eating you alive any longer. The two of you had done every cheesy New York tourist thing; ice skating at Bryant Park down to lunch on top of the Empire State Building, and you’d laughed, learned to ballroom dance from YouTube videos only to botch it horribly in the streets; it was the first time Jungkook felt that rush down his throat, and he’s begun to feel it again recently.

It’s like the montage of a romantic comedy where the main characters get to really know each other: a part you savor, and a part Jungkook tends to skip so he can get to whatever conflict awaits. The two of you have done everything together, continued to get weekly pizzas at 2Bros, where you’ve openly made fun of him for his order choice, gotten white mochas at the small business you love too much (he thinks it’s not that great but spends $18 anyways), rewatched the first 5 seasons of Friends (he’s realized you can literally quote it), gone to every Yankees game you could get tickets to (you make him explain all the plays even if he’s done it a million times), spent too much time and too much money at the Statue of Liberty, gotten pictures together at random photo booths in the street, slept under the stars, slept tangled in each other’s arms, drunkenly made out once only to never talk about it —

It’s going better than it ever has, and Jungkook can count on one hand the memories he has that beat out any of the ones that he’s spent with you.

However, as a callback to the Glen Powell rom-com plot curve, there has to be a conflict. So when Jungkook tells you about that drunken memory that still is very much in his mind, you really think you should’ve seen it coming.

It happens over lunch, another sick foreshadow you should’ve seen barreling towards you, and it hits you in a way you can’t exactly explain. He doesn’t take it as seriously; doesn’t think you’d care because it’s not like any of this is inherently romantic. It’s not like he cheated on you; the two of you were just best friends who hadn’t even seen each other in a while when it happened.

(If the Bible verses are at the tip of his tongue when Jungkook thinks of it, he leaves that part out of the recollection.)

He laughs when he tells you, and you savor the sweet sound, the one that’s low and tugs at your heart in an inexplicable manner.

It starts off as a conversation about how he cannot drink vodka anymore, and you immediately wish you hadn’t asked when he speaks: “You know that time, when you got really pissed at me for saying that AJ shit to you?”

The memory sends something queasy down your stomach. It shoots down your legs for a split second before you remember his words from a month back.

You don’t have to explain yourself, I get it.

It must’ve been a hard day, huh? That fucker got you a shaken espresso, Jesus.

Yeah I know he had no idea, but still. I do. And it makes me feel so shitty for you.

You don’t have to explain yourself.

“I’d say pissed is an overstatement.”

“Overstatement for you, you have the best attorneys in the country teaching you on random Tuesday. For me,” his hands reach to rest dramatically over his heart, and you laugh unironically, making a note to yourself to only order mocktails from this moment forward. “It was like getting bitchslapped.”

That genuinely makes you laugh.

“But whatever, the next day, I went to a party and got shitfaced to deal with the pain.”

That reminds you of how you’d dealt with snapping at him the day after — how you had hyperventilated in your room when he didn’t reply, how you had to skip a class because your heart wouldn’t stop beating at the prospect of losing him.

You don’t have to explain yourself.

“And I fucked Nayoung. So no more vodka for me.”

“Lim Nayoung?”

You don’t know why you ask, obviously it’s her.

Obviously it’s Lim Nayoung. The girl who has a matching tattoo with Jungkook on her arm. The girl who has gifts you told him to get for her decorating her shelves. The sweet girl who never stopped Jungkook from speaking to you even if the ‘girl best friend archetype made perfect sense. The girl who has a jacket from when Jungkook and her had almost had a Ross/Rachel wedding after getting drunk in Jersey. His ex-fuckbuddy, hell, his ex-girlfriend because who does all of that with someone who’s supposed to be strictly physical.

Obviously it’s Lim Nayoung.

Obviously you shouldn’t be this fucking surprised.

Obviously your heart shouldn’t sink to the tresses of your stomahc.

Obviously this wasn’t meant to be romantic.

“Yeah, her. It was fucking crazy, I don’t think I’ve ever drank that much.”

His voice is fuzzy in your ears, and you can’t look him in the eyes properly. You take a sip of the drink that’s next to you, willing yourself to suddenly get wasted so you never remember this moment.

Why does it make a sharp pain go through your left side? Why do you have to clench your palms into a fist to subside said pain. Why did you think this was going somewhere, why did you think Jungkook wasn’t still hung up on her.

You think of AJ, and how he doesn’t even know about your ex-boyfriend. You think of your ex-boyfriend, and shaken espressos, and wakes, and how Jungkook’s the only person who’s been through all of that with you.

You think of how you graduate in less than a month, and you think of how Jungkook will have attended six of your graduations by that point. You think of Nayoung, how pretty she is, and how much you think she deserves him.

You wonder why you think you would ever deserve him, and you wonder why you thought it would end in anything but an eternal friendship; beautiful, intimate, but forever bound by the jagged cuffs of platonicity. You wonder if he, even for a fleeting moment — when you were tangled in his sheets, when you laughed at his stupid king-kong jokes at the Empire State Building, when you reached for his hand during the climaxes of horror movies, when your lips were fervent on his in that back alley — thought that this would go anywhere.

“Maybe we need to get you in that sobriety program, huh?”

If your voice cracks, you pray he doesn’t notice. You pray the laugh you get out of him is genuine, and you pray that he didn’t look at Nayoung so warmly, only to feel just as guilty as you had a month prior.

AJ has no idea why you’re at his apartment, nor does he have any idea as to why you’re drunk. It’s way too early in the day for you to be wasted; in fact, he distinctly remembers you telling him that you and Jungkook were going out, which is why you couldn’t make it to the lunch he had proposed.

Were you getting drunk at noon? He knows you like margaritas, but he also knows that you have an insane tolerance; how many did you drink to get you this —

“H- he doesn’t love me.”

You interrupt the tangent of his thoughts with a hiccuped, slurred out sentence, and his entire face contorts trying to decipher what you’re saying, and then why you’re saying it.

“Hey, hey — wait, come in, what are you saying? Who doesn’t love you?”

Your skin is warm under his touch as he gently tugs at your arm to pull you past the threshold of his door, and he tries not to look too hard at the way your lips glisten under the dim light of his entranceway. He tries not to notice the way your hair is a little messy, undoubtedly from the wind, and how pretty your collarbones look under the small top you’re wearing —

Jungkook.

You’re talking about Jungkook, and he knows this not because there’s literally nobody else you could be talking about, but because there’s nobody who could get you this upset by ‘not loving you’.

(Do you love him?)

He sits you down on one of the barstools he keeps in front his kitchen countertop, and you slump your head down onto your arms, mumbling incoherently.

(Do you love him?)

He pours out a glass of water for you, and pats your head gently, touch lingering for a second to give you even the slightest inkling of comfort in this outwardly distressed state.

You lift your head, eyes red-rimmed and glossy with tears.

AJ doesn’t feel like this often. He jokes about how the two of you grew up, devoid of the privilege of showing normal emotions, bottling them up and spilling them over textbook pages and only ever being allowed to feel happy upon seeing numbers scribbled in red at the top of test pages. He jokes about the two of you ending up in Ivy Leagues at the cost of having normal human feelings; he knows that he’s perceptive and sharp and he likes to think that he has you all figured out, but when you look at him like that, he knows that he doesn’t.

He doesn’t know why you told him to never make you a shaken espresso again, he doesn’t know what relationship you and Jungkook even have, he doesn’t know why you’re this upset over him not loving you.

He does, however, know that even if Jungkook doesn’t love you, he might.

AJ met you in your first year of law school, and he remembers thinking that you were the only person in the whole class who was fit to be his rival; you’d been only person other than him who’d gotten through the cold calls, the only person who’d read all the way to the end of the syllabus, the one person he would accept as a ‘rival’, like he was in a Viola Davis drama, if you may.

He’d spoken to you after class — a little cocky, a little smug — and you’d been nothing but sweet. Soft voice, pretty smile, quips that had him looking away to stop himself from laughing, he liked you immediately.

The two of you had really done everything together — studied at ungodly hours, called each other drunk to drive the other home, you had inside jokes and three years worth of memories, you’d helped him through breakups and he’d gotten you free coffee every week for a year now — the rapport he had with you was one he’d never ever expected, and the way he looked at you, felt about you, was something he’d never ever expected.

He had his girlfriends, and he told you about them while you’d answer with a curt joke about never having dated anybody, but he’d never ever looked at them like he looked at you. Never noticed the furrow in their brows when they read something hard to understand, never noticed their lopsided smiles and the way they’d drink, but never enough to really get them wasted. And the thing is, AJ hadn’t cared that he saw all of these things, because perceptive as he was, all you’d ever been to him was a brilliant girl who he’d be sure to keep up with after law school.

Right now, though? He knows. He knows why he noticed, he knows why it bothers him that you might love Jungkook back, he knows that you graduate soon and that he doesn’t have much time, and even if he did, it wouldn’t matter because you might love Jungkook back —

“AJ, Jungkook doesn't love me.”

“Yikes.”

He wants to say more. Wants to tell you that it doesn’t matter what Jungkook thinks, because I love you, and I think you’re incredible and I’ve spent the past 3 years ignoring it but I’ve never ever ignored you and I love you.

“He fucked Nayoung.”

AJ has no idea who that is, but he wants to sock Jungkook in the face for having this girl, this amazing girl with him for his entire life and fucking somebody else.

“I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry he did that, and I’m sorry you don’t know that I would never do that.

“He —“ you pause to sob: a soft, strangled noise that makes AJ’s stomach turn. “He doesn’t love me.”

“Do you love him?”

Say no. Say no. Say no. Say no. Say no.

“Fuck, AJ. He doesn’t —“ you don’t again, shoving your head back into your arms.

“Do you love him, though?”

AJ’s not sure why he’s asking, because he knows that there’s no way you’d be upset if he didn’t love you back. He thinks of it like a prosecution case; he’s gotten enough out of you on the stand that everybody can draw the conclusion but he has to get it out of you.

A surefire kill.

“Hm?”

Your eyes are bleary when you look up, half from crying and half from being the drunkest you’ve ever been. Your hair is still messy, and your lips are bitten red from all the quiet crying you’ve been doing. He can’t cry in his kitchen, not when you’ve been here laughing, not when his granite countertops hold years of your touch, not when you’re unraveling a foot away from him.

“I think I do, AJ. I really think I do.”

“Fuck, baby. I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry that I thought I could have you, when Jungkook’s always been the one you wanted.

“He used to be like, the one person —“ pause to hiccup. “I never thought I’d love like that. But we got closer after the fucking, shaken espresso day last month. And I guess the proximity j-just set it in.”

He can’t tell if the reason your words are so mangled in his ears is because the sound of his own heart crashing into his stomach is so loud, or because you’re slurring your words that much.

“Drink some water, please.”

Say you’re lying, please.

—

Jungkook doesn’t exactly know why you ordered another 3 margaritas in the middle of your lunch detour, and he doesn’t know why you stopped looking him directly in the eyes right after he told you that he’d had sex with Nayoung. He doesn’t know why you insisted on drinking when you never get to a point where being wasted is even an option, and he doesn’t know why you so fervently denied him walking you home.

He doesn’t know why he stays awake at night thinking of you, either.

Jungkook is surprisingly introspective for somebody who zones in and out of conversation so much, who is typically dazed and doesn’t have much to offer when it comes to picking up obvious hints thrown at him, but he knows himself quite well.

Better than you, he’d argue.

The sheets are warm around his waist, and he has one arm propped under his head as he stares at the ceiling, eyes wide without even a hint of sleep in the tresses of them, which is unusual for it being the middle of the night. He remembers how a month prior, all you’d ever been was his best friend. He remembers the little fall-out and how you’d gotten together for dinner, how pretty you’d looked and wonders why he’d focused on that when he simply never had done that before.

He remembers the day after, and how he’d taken another girl to bed. Jungkook remembers faint Bible verses about adultery, how he couldn’t get you out of his head, and he remembers what Nayoung had told him that night, as long as what she’d told him when they broke it off.

“I don’t think your job is all you need to figure out, Jungkook.”

“Your thing with ___ not work out?”

“We’re in different places, clearly.”

He never thought about what she meant when they’d split; the pain of losing someone who’s memory he had literally etched into his skin was too imminent for him to even think about the ending scene. He also never thought about what she meant when she’d walked out of the fraternity room that day; he’d made up with you right after, and the following month was you, you, and more you. Focusing on Nayoung’s words and the small sliver of conversation they’d engaged in hadn’t even been an afterthought, at least until he’s brought her up today and you, like similar poles of a magnet, quite literally repelled him.

But really, what was she even talking about?

Why would there be a thing with you? Sure, the two of you were close, and sure, he’d probably talked about you and called you and FaceTimed you too much for her security, but he’d always thought the concept of him having a ‘girl best friend’ was what annoyed her, and not the notion that the two of you would have a ‘thing’.

Why would there be a thing with you? Sure, he idolized you and told her how smart he thought you were, but him and Nayoung were never official, and he’d only ever assumed that she was confused as to why he was always talking about some other girl after literally sleeping with her -

Oh.

It hits him like a shot to the heart, and he physically sits up to grab his phone because he has to confirm this sudden realization.

The look Mingyu had given him at the party shoots to the forefront of his brain, Nayoung’s words echo, and the way your resolve has crumbled when he told you about her suddenly makes a lot more sense.

In fact, it all makes sense.

I don’t think your job is all that you need to figure out.

She was talking about you. About how he was hung up on you and never even realized it —

We’re clearly in different places.

She was talking about you. About how she was willing to be invested with him, but the place he was stuck at, was you.

The ringing of his phone as he calls Nayoung seems louder than it usually is. It’s daunting, like he’s hoping she doesn’t pick up with each ring so he doesn’t have to face the reality he’s been unknowingly ignoring for… fuck, he doesn’t even know how long.

“Jungkook? It’s 2 in the morning. Are you okay?”

“Why did we break up, Nayoung?”

His voice is hoarse, and if he wasn’t so fucking stressed, he thinks about how proud you’d be for putting on the ‘interrogation voice’ you’d introduced him to in your second year of Law School.

“What?” Her laugh is quiet, laced with sleep, and Jungkook wonders if she should hang up and say sorry for waking her. “We weren’t really together, so I wouldn’t call it a break up —“

Her pause is long, and Jungkook doesn’t correct her, doesn’t bring up the tattoos and leather jackets and how they’d nearly eloped and the fact that they just had sex a month prior. She’s right, and he needs her to continue now.

“But I always assumed that you had something going on with __”

“You mean the time I called her after we got matching tattoos?” He can’t fight the urge to make the joke, even though it just dawned on him that you were, indeed, the straw on the camel’s back that broke him and Nayoung up. It just dawned on him that he might be in love with his best friend, and that he’d hurt Nayoung because of it, and that you might love him back.

Maybe.

He ignores that, and laughs wryly at the silly anecdote, thanking every religious figure he can think of when she also laughs.

“Yeah, that, but also just… your relationship. The way you obsessively talked about her and were literally always on call with her was one thing, but…” she pauses like she’s thinking about what to say next, how to describe the end of it all to him in a way that won’t flip his entire world around, not knowing that she’d already done that. Not knowing that you’d already done that.

“She came over once to pick us up when we got drunk. It was the same night I was talking about at the party, when we told Joon the closest thing to us was the moon? Yeah, ___ came and got us that night.”

“I knew right then, honestly. The way you looked at her was fucking insane. When you used to look at me, my friends would say that it was like I’d done every good thing in the world for you. But when you looked at her, it was like she’d saved you from every bad thing that could’ve ever happened to you. It was like, relief. Like you could let it all down in front of her. And I’d never been on the receiving end of that look; not ever when you were sober. Being like that and looking at her like that completely shitfaced? I knew I couldn’t stand in the way of the two of you, even if it literally killed me.”

He doesn’t process it immediately, choosing to focus on the last sentence, because feelings for you aside, he felt like the most massive douchebag in the world for making her feel that way.

“Nayoung, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I honestly — I had no idea, I really didn’t —“

“Jungkook, I know. And I know you’re probably trying not to drive yourself insane thinking of whether she loves you back.”

He definitely is, but he doesn’t tell her this in fear that it’ll just hurt her more.

“No it’s not like that, I’m just, so incredibly sorry that I put you through that, you deserve so much more, you deserve the relationship you want and I feel like shit —“

“What do you mean it’s not like that, Jungkook? You’re not thinking about whether she likes you back?”

“Huh?”

“You don’t think she loves you back?”

Do you love him back? Do you look at him like he’s saved you from every bad thing that could’ve ever happened to you? Do you? Will you ever?”

“I don’t… know?”

“When you called her that night, you tripped over your own feet. She knew exactly where we were based off of that.”

Summer of 2006.

The field he’d gotten wasted with Nayoung, except he only remembers you.

Remembers how you’d just gotten promoted up to the fourth grade, remembers how you were licking down the side of your ice cream cone; vanilla with sprinkles, as always. He had his mint chocolate chip, and your mothers were on a bench a couple of feet away from you.

The sun had made your hair look golden, your eyes were bright, and your smile was so pretty that he couldn’t hold your gaze for longer than three seconds. He remembers this, because he’d physically tripped over his own feet when you looked at him just a couple of seconds too long.

The small ‘oof’ that he’d let out when he’d fallen, damp grass and soil under his tender palms, knees tickled by the summer green just seconds later, the way you’d gasped and abandoned your ice cream cone on the ground to come tend to him, and your mothers rushing over too, laughing at how much you cared for him.

He’d always, always tripped over his own feet at that spot, always fallen with that little ‘oof’ and soon realized that it wasn’t really because he couldn’t make eye contact with you, but because there was a little hump in the ground at the spot he’d been standing at.

And you remembered.

You remembered even if the first time it happened was more than a decade and a half ago, you remembered even if you had grown out of visiting that field when you went to college.

“She remembered.”

“Yeah, Jungkook. Obviously she remembered. Because she loves you back, and it’s honestly making me more upset that the two of you haven’t worked it out yet.”

“Fuck, Nayoung. Fuck. Thank you. Thank you — I have to think about — fuck, I’m sorry it’s so fucking late and I’ve just called you and went on this weird self discovery path —“

Her laugh is bright when she cuts him off, and Jungkook feels part of his heart ease when he realizes that she’s not angry with him.

“Go to bed, talk to her tomorrow. I love you, Jungkook. And you love her and she loves you in a completely different way, but I love you. And don’t say sorry, I was up anyways.”

She hangs up after, not giving Jungkook space to even say goodbye, and simultaneously giving him a million different things to think about, but only one that he can really focus on: how he’s in love with you.

And how, apparently, you’re in love with him as well.

—

The beauty of New York City is the anonymity it provides, even amongst 8 million other people. Street bustle, skyscrapers kiss the clouds, floods of people drown you in the street, and even through all of that, you have the privilege of being alone. Solitude; a lighter flickering in a Brooklyn balcony, and the drip of water down in Harlem.

Tonight, you and Jungkook have the privilege of being alone, just 20 minutes away from each other, staring at the same film photograph of the both of you from the photobooth you’d stopped at a couple of weeks prior.

The grainy picture features four shots; your hair is damp, and Jungkook can still feel how it felt on his neck, your lips are a dark maroon, and Jungkook can still feel them hovering right above his. Jungkook’s in his leather jacket, and you feel the goosebumps on your arms from when the fabric brushed against your skin. His hair’s also wet from the rain, but the gel he still uses had kept it together surprisingly well; you remember the way you’d made fun of him for his incessant usage of the product.

The picture on the top right is a glamour shot, if anything. You’re smiling, and when he looks down at it, his chest blooms with a warmth akin to spring’s first bloom. He has a softer look; sporting the lopsided grin you’re so used to seeing, and it makes your stomach coil enough to make you physically look away and laugh.

Top left is a lot less serious, you remember he’d made a joke about the two of you being mafioso heirs, and it hadn’t even been that funny, but the picture features bright, childish, innocent grins. Your eyes are shut, smile spreading all the way across your face as you lean forward. His head is thrown back, lip piercing caught between his bottom lip when he laughs. The both of you hear each other’s laughter, echoing in the photobooth and across the empty, rain stricken streets of New York.

You think of how much you miss this, about how this day had inevitably been when you fell face first, defenseless with your guard all the way down. You think of the bottom left picture, not having the courage to look at it fully; you remember how you’d leaned into his body, and how he’d let you do it, how your lips had been just millimeters from touching when the flash had caught you off guard and you’d looked up straight into his eyes like something out of a Glen Powell rom-com.

Jungkook thinks of how much he misses this, about how this day had been one of the ‘moments he knew’, a collection that grows the more he thinks about how irrevocably in love with you he is. He thinks about the bottom right picture, how he’s looking at you and you’re fixing your hair, how he got the picture developed and still didn’t see the stars in his eyes, still didn’t realize that you were always the one.

The four photos are pressed to your heart. You haven’t had it in you to fall asleep, there’s still a full ache in your head from the alcohol and you make a note to thank AJ for getting you home safe today. A tinge of embarrassment shoots down your body when you think about the conversation you had with him today, the conclusion you’d reached, what you’d learned about Jungkook and Nayoung, what you’d learned about yourself; that you loved him, and he didn’t love you back, and how it made you want to die the more you thought of the month the two of you had.

The four photos are pressed to his heart. He wonders if they’ll soothe the ache or not knowing whether you love him, too. The phone he’s just put down should provide him with silence; fuck , he craves silence, but Nayoung’s words just echo in his head. Talk to her tomorrow, but he has no idea if you feel even remotely the same. He has no idea if he’s completely off base, he has no idea if he’s gotten the wrong ideas based off of the last month, and the guilt of potentially having taken your platonicity and genuine friendship as a lead eats him alive.

[But it can’t all be platonic, you think.]

[But it can’t all be platonic, he thinks. ]

No, you think. Because the alcohol might’ve made it easier, but you remember the way he tasted on your lips a little too well. The way his hands traveled down your shirt, sodden and soaked in the rain, caressing the curve of your waist. The way your own fingers had explored the figure of his shoulders, pressing into the hard plains of muscle as he moved his lips against yours too languidly to be a drunken detour.

No, he thinks. Because the drowsy haze of Sunday might’ve made it easier, but he remembers the way your leg was thrown over his thighs, the soft cotton of his own shirt hardly covering any of your legs, the rasp in your voice when you’d mumbled out his name, looking over you as he cooked. The way you’d laughed at his stupid dad jokes, and the way Mingyu had slapped his back after you’d gone, talking about the ‘way she looked at you’ — there’s no way it was just platonic.

There was nothing platonic about the way he’d held you in line at Liberty, the way he’d looked at you when you went up the fire escape when Mingyu had another girl over, the way you’d spoken, hushed into his skin the night you fell asleep at his place. Maybe falling in love, for the two of you, was like having your eyes closed while standing on the shore; maybe it was a wave that came crashing, rushing up your legs and soaking the two of you entirely before you even realized it. Maybe all the two of you had been doing, was enjoying the crashing of water ahead of you, ignorant to the receding waves and how dangerously close you were to being caught up in the mess your ignorance would inevitably bring.

And there you are —

Present day New York City, staring up at empty ceilings with full hearts, itching to reach for your phones with nothing but apprehension holding you back; what if he doesn’t love me, what if she doesn’t love me, what if I’m off-base, what if everything changes, 23 years down the drain, I have to tell her, I have to tell him. Alone, anonymous, lovers amidst millions others, feeling so much that you taste it on your tongues, feeling so much that you want to rip your beating hearts out; alone, anonymous, in love, in pain.

And there you are —

Begging the other not to go, because you’re so bad at being alone, but not being able to tell them why.

—

Cravath asks you to work in their London office after you graduate. It’s one of the perks of

consistently being at the top of your class, one of the perks of having an internship at the best law firm in all of New York, and it’s an opportunity you can’t say no to.

You figure it’ll help you get over this Jungkook fiasco, considering the fact that it’s basically a dead-end for you; you wonder if Watchell Lipton can refer AJ to a firm in London so you won’t completely be alone in a new city, you start to think about how wonderful it’d be to get some time away, to get space away from where you’d suffered such a big loss just a couple of years back — away from where you’d been pushed beyond every limit of yours since the first grade.

There’s nothing loss has taught you other than to put up walls, to close people off and to shut them out at any waking moment that you even come close to vulnerability. It’s not healthy, nor is it a quality you’re proud of; your stricken body’s last attempt at cushioning any further blows, any further losses from even those you claim to be the closest to you. It’s the reason you never told your parents about the intense stress their expectations put onto you, it’s why AJ doesn’t know about your ex but you know about all of his, and it’s the reason you’ve been ignoring Jungkook for a week now.

The realization that you were, in fact, madly in love with him had might as well carved through your skin to make its way into your system judging by the pain you’ve gone through since it’s hit you. You’re a rational adult, and loving someone is human nature, but loving your best friend and knowing that he doesn’t love you back should be something God implements in hell as punishment. You haven’t been able to look at the photo booth picture, have turned every photograph that reminds you of him around to avoid seeing it, have turned to sticking your head in your ridiculously heavy textbooks so you have a way to save face should Jungkook ever text you, and you’re sure that this game of shutting him out is going to be successful when you accept the job in London.

But you don’t.

For some reason, the drafted email accepting the position sits on your laptop, in a minimized tab that you open and contemplate hitting ‘send’ for hours on end, but never do. There’s a sliver of yearning — stupid, human yearning — that you wish you could just turn off, that tells you there’s a chance Jungkook might love you back. That tells you this situation will end with him running to you in the rain and kissing you under the stars, a grandiose recreation of the kiss you’d had almost a month ago now; the little voice in your head is your biggest vice, and you stare at the email over and over everyday, telling it to just shut up, telling you to get over yourself because he’s always loved Nayoung and you will never be her — never be that pretty, that put together, that kind or compassionate — and you tell yourself to just send the email.

Send it, burn this love you have with the littlest flicker of emotion you have left in your heart, move to London and start over. Reinvent yourself and learn to love properly, learn to love things that will love you back, learn to feel properly and not be so stringent on goals, learn to be human because it seems like you’d forgotten how to, until the realization that you love Jungkook barreled towards you like an avalanche of everything you never wanted to be.

Send it, and tell Jungkook. Take his little display of sadness and walk out of his life with the bitter taste of a confession that’ll never leave your lips still heavy on your tongue. Watch him in pictures like he’d watched you sleep, watch him fall in love with Nayoung eventually and move out because Computer Science has a killer starting salary, watch him pursue something he wants to do —

(“I think I really wanna do art. Sing, paint, do something that doesn’t involve binary code.”

“I think you should go for it. Stick it out till graduation and work for like a month because your starting salary is totally gonna support you even if you fail, and take the leap. Kierkegaard.”

“No idea what the fuck a ‘kira gard’ is.”

“Shut up.”

“You think I’ll be able to do it?”

“I think you’re the most talented person I know. If anyone can be an artist, it’s you.”)

If you love someone, let them go. And you want to do it so badly, a part of you craves the final sweet release of pain that New York City will give you before you escape it, but there’s another part that’s screaming in agony because you cannot do this to yourself, like your body fears that giving up someone you love so much that it physically hurts you to think about will be the final straw, that you’ll drop dead at JFK airport if Jungkook doesn’t tell you that he loves you, too.

If you love someone, let them go. Let them go, let them go. If you love yourself, let yourself go. Leave, and enjoy London and free yourself from a city that’s so beautiful that all you’ve done is loved it and the loneliness it’s handed you on a platter. If you love New York, let it go. If you let Jungkook, let him go.

You’re staring at the email again, and you can’t tell if you’re tearing up because of how long you haven’t been blinking, or if it’s because you know that when you finally click the send button, it’ll all be over.

You’ll be putting the fear of shaken espressos behind you, you’ll be putting Jungkook, New York, your parents, your entire life behind you; you’ll graduate in two weeks after finals, and you’ll grab nothing but your passport to go to London. It’ll be over, which is a thought that’s as daunting as it is relieving, but not because of your ex, not because of New York, or your parents —

It’s hard solely because you don’t want to put Jeon Jungkook behind you. The first person you’d ever talked to about how burnt out you were, the first person to sleep under the same sheets with you, the only person to eat a meat lovers pizza at 2Bros, the only person you let your guard down with, the only person who’d ever seen you cry, the only person you’d ever been in love with. The photographs you’ve turned around, the permanent imprint of his lips on yours, the way his hand found purchase on the small of your back, his heartbreaks and your biggest loss, the strum of his guitar back in middle school when you’d blushed under his gaze for the first time, the way he rubs at his nape when he’s embarrassed, his smile, the way he trusts you with his life — you’d sooner die than call it quits on those memories, but it’s even harder to imagine living with them, knowing that he’s never going to feel the same way about it.

Your heart is heavier than it's ever been, even if you’ve been carrying the weight of your own world for the past 17 years at least, without putting it down even for a second. You’re sure you’re crying, if the way the words on your screen blur is any indication. Your left side aches the same way it had a month ago when he told you about Nayoung, and you wonder if that pain will ever go away if you leave.

Your fingers tremble when they clasp the mouse, and you decide that the pain is something you’ll have to live with. It’s the melancholy it’ll leave in your eyes that’ll make strangers fall in love for you and never quite forget; it’s the edge of having to walk away from something, from the only thing, you’ve ever loved, that’ll make you a strong lawyer. Unattached, a bit desolate, and incredibly strong, but only when working. It’ll be this mistake that’ll prevent you from making others, it’ll be this mistake that’ll make you fall harder for whoever will come next; that’ll teach you to cherish those who love you back.

(You fall back onto your bed and break down.)

(You send the email minutes after you’re done crying.)

(You figure you’ll tell Jungkook the day after. That you’ll apologize. For everything.)

(You figure Jungkook’s going to cut you off for not telling him before sending the email.)

(You figure it’s for the best.)

—

Jungkook feels like his heart is being torn from his chest, inch by inch so he feels the surface of his skin ripping, so he feels the blood dripping down his chest and soaking his shirt, so he can feel the poison in his veins, can feel the thump of the organ when it’s pulled out of his body.

You’re leaving.

“You’re leaving?”

You’re leaving.

He loves you, and you’re leaving in two weeks and he’s trying so hard to not look like he’s in unfathomable, unspeakable, unrelentless pain that leaves him wanting to get on the floor of his apartment and claw at his chest so he can scrape some of the ache away.

He clenches his fingers into fists and refuses to look at you.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook, I thought I’d tell you but finals had me busy —“

You’re fucking lying to him, too. You’re leaving, and he loves you and you’re lying. You weren’t busy with finals, you were ignoring him for whatever godforsaken reason, you were cooped up in your apartment overthinking and fixating on whatever he’d told when the two of you had brunch, and you were doing it on purpose.

Fucking finals.

Your go-to excuse for shutting people out and putting up walls that nobody will ever be allowed to break down. He thought he’d be the first to, he thought he’d already broken them, plowed through the cement when he’d kissed you in a back alley, when he’d held you in his arms after the wake, when he’d bought you your coffee and gotten the order correct, when he had you in his bed. He thought he’d broken them, but he’d been wrong; he hadn’t done shit to stop you from holding yourself away from the world, he hadn’t done shit to help you face vulnerability instead of ignoring it in favor of not facing anyone at all, he hadn’t done shit to get you out of your stupid fucking law school shell, and he was in love with you despite this one tiny flaw, and he knew everything about you, so he knew you were lying.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“You’re fucking lying to me.”

Your scoff is incredulous and it makes Jungkook want to pull his hair out and drag his blunt fingernails down his face until he’s bleeding out to show you; I care, stop pushing me away, why are you leaving, you don’t know I’m in love with you, why, why, why, why —

“I’m not lying, you know I have finals — you have my planner!”

“No. No, you’re not fucking doing this again. In sophomore year, you were upset because of something your dad said and locked yourself in your room for three days straight. You said you had finals back then. After your fucking boyfriend died, you locked yourself in your room and said you had finals. Whenever you’ve been scared, or humiliated, or had any semblance of fucking human emotions, you’ve said you have —“

“Jungkook, you have no fucking right to bring that up now, what the fuck is wrong with you.”

“What’s wrong with me is you! You decide you’re leaving the only place you’ve ever lived in within the week I last saw you and didn’t even think to discuss it with me? Even after the month we’ve had — even after the life we’ve had?”

You stare at him, and he can see the redness in your eyes like he had seen before you broke down at the wake.

He wants to get down on his knees and put his forehead to your feet and apologize, hold you and never let you go.

You’re leaving.

“It’s my life, not yours.”

“It’s my life, too. You know this.”

“No. I don’t fucking know this, because I’ve worked my ass off for the past 17 years to get to law school and graduate and work at the best fucking law firm in the country. It’s not your fucking life —“

“You’ve killed yourself for all this—”

You stand up from his couch, and turn away so he doesn’t see your tears fall.

“You’ve fucking killed yourself. You worked like a dog since middle school to get into that pretentious private school, and you worked even harder to get to Columbia. You never had a fucking dream, you never had a childhood because you killed yourself to get to this point. You never had time to have a fucking ‘life’ or whatever you call it because all you’ve ever done is work for some stupid fucking goal.”

You sob once, twice, and Jungkook has to put a hand to his heart so he doesn’t die on the spot.

“And you can’t tell me that I don’t know this because I’m the only one who knows this! I’m the only person you’ve ever told about this and it fucking hurts because I love you, and it fucking hurts because you’re leaving me —“

“Because my best friend is leaving me,” he backtracks.

Best friend. Because you don’t know, and he doesn’t know how he’s going to have the heart to tell you.

“And it hurts because my best friend is leaving me and she didn’t even think to mention this before.”

“You didn’t think to mention Nayoung even once in this aforementioned ‘month’ we had,” the quotes you make with your fingers do nothing but show him how much you’re shaking. He wants to grab your hands and tell you that it’s okay; that you don’t need to cry and that he has you.

That he’ll always have you.

(But he won’t, because you’re leaving.)

You’re leaving, and you’re talking about Nayoung for some reason.

“Yeah, because we had sex one fucking time! I don’t even like her, why the fuck would I bring her up — and why are you bringing her up like fucking a girl is anywhere similar to moving halfway across the world.”

You sob once, twice, and when you turn around to face him, he feels like he’s holding his dead heart in his cold hands and watching it try to come to life.

“I’m bringing it up because you love her, and you didn’t even bother to tell me.”

“I don’t fucking love her.”

I love you. I love you, why do you think I love her —

Why do you think he loves Nayoung, and why does your face fall when you say it, and why did you start to ignore him the day he told you that he’d had sex with her?

“You do. She’s the one that got away, and she’ll be here so it doesn’t fucking matter —“

“Stop saying that it doesn’t matter. Stop saying that you don’t matter.”

“Because I don’t, Jungkook,” a sob breaks your sentence and it feels like his world has just come crashing down when he realizes how you feel about yourself. “I’ve lived here for 23 years and nobody knows shit about me and you’re right, it’s because I shut myself away, but nobody bothers anyways and I’ve worked so hard to get here so I’m gonna take the chance to leave, so I don’t have to not matter anymore, so I can like… change.”

“You don’t have to change, ___”

Your name on his lips is a prayer, a silent hope to the god he only remembered when he was fucking somebody, a plea and the final chance he gets to have you.

“Don’t change, __”

Don’t let her leave me, God. Don’t let her change, don’t let her go.

“How can you ask that of me?”

He hears his mothers laugh from when he told her he wanted to be a ninja. He decides that he doesn’t want to be a ninja, or a computer science major, or an artist. He decides that he wants you to know how madly in love with you he is.

“Because I love you.”

“I love you too, Jungkook.”

“No — fuck, I’m in love with you.”

Your stare is dumbfounded, like he’s just told you that he’s a vampire hybrid or something else completely unorthodox. He would laugh at the look typically, but he feels empty, like the compression that had been a steady pressure on his chest for the past few days had lifted, only to be replaced with a pain unlike any other, because what if this messes it up more?

What if you would originally go to London and keep tabs with him and be in his life, and what if he’s told you this and turned you off the idea of ever even looking in his direction again.

What if you don’t love him back?

“You’re in love with me.”

He nods, silently swallowing as he tries to whisper a prayer to whatever god is listening that whatever you say won’t end in you leaving for good.

“You’re in love with me?”

“I am. I have been. I am. I’m in love with you, I’ve been in love with you, and I don’t even remember how long it’s been since it first happened.”

“Jungkook —“

You chuckle, and it should break his heart because it seems like you’re on the road to mocking him, but he feels his heart rejuvenate in his arms when he hears the sound of your laugh. It sounds like a metaphor he’s been trying to write down for ages. It sounds familiar, it sounds intimate, and his name rolling off your tongue is a balm he presses over the open wound of his chest to soothe it.

“Jungkook — you’re in love with me, and not Nayoung?”

He can’t speak, isn’t used to the lightness in his chest.

He shakes his head, and he swears he sees the world light up behind your eyes. He swears you’re the prettiest girl in the entire world, even when tears track down your face and even when you’re red-eyed and have a snotty nose from crying.

(Especially then.)

“Fuck.”

“Fuck, Jungkook, I’m in love with you too. I am. I have been. I’m in love with you, and I’ve been in love with you for as long as —“

You won’t finish that sentence, he decides, taking one long stride towards you to close the distance between your bodies. Your face in his hands is warm, a little sticky from the tears, and your lips are chapped. He doesn’t doubt that he’s in any better of a condition, but you look up at him through your wet eyelashes and he’s had enough.

He’s had enough of yearning, and pleading, and wondering if you love him back because you do. He’s had enough of waiting and wondering why he keeps thinking of you because he wants to think of you.

In fact, he thinks he’s open to thinking of you forever.

So he kisses you, and he thanks his lucky stars when you kiss back, for blessing him with the embodiment of them in the form of you, a girl who shone so brightly that he couldn’t see the love cooped up in her eyes until she cried, told him she was moving to London, and kissed him in his living room.

He thinks he could die happy, but he doesn’t want to die when he finally has you.

Finally has you.

(Except, you could be leaving.)

Jungkook ignores this because you tilt your head so his lips slot against yours better, and he can barely focus on anything other than the way you feel and the fact that he’s kissing his best friend — kissing the love of his life.

He bared his heart and walked through hell for this, and if the way he feels right now is redemption, he’d do it all over again.

—

It starts with you on a table, umbilical cord freshly cut, wrapped up in a pretty pink fluffy blanket. Jungkook, just a one year old, stares blankly, and starts crying in his mothers arms.

It starts in the suburbs of New York City, where you lose yourself between textbook pages and Jungkook wonders what he’ll ever amount to being.

It starts with your boyfriend dying, and the way shaken espressos feel on your tongue. It starts with Jungkook seeing you cry for the first time, and it starts with you wondering if you can ever love someone.

It starts with law school, and a three week gap in your final year during which you and Jungkook don’t talk. He finds himself thinking of you, and you text him, asking to meet up for dinner.

It starts with him asking you about a friend of yours, and you getting vigorously upset, uncalled for and downright appalling on Jungkook’s part.

It starts with you calling him to apologize while he makes a drunken mistake. It starts with you meeting him to apologize and promising to do better; it starts with him telling you that he doesn’t need you to ‘do better’ like it’s a standardized test — that he just needs you to talk to him.

It starts with an amazing month, trailblazing and falling for each other, starts with drunken kisses and getting soaked in the rain and the ruse of being ‘best friends’ and drinking margaritas even though Jungkook doesn’t really like cocktails. It starts with the city of New York, and the anonymous back alleys where millions walk, but nobody lingers long enough to leave a mark.

It starts with him telling you about this drunken mistake, starts with the both of you realizing how madly in love you are with the other. It starts with you accepting a job in London, and it starts with Jungkook calling his ex and figuring out that it’s always been you.

It starts with an argument encased in the walls of his living room, where you empty your heart out and he empties his, starts with accusations that he loves somebody else and utter silence because he can’t tell you that he loves you.

There’s a million beginnings to this story, thousands of waking moments that could’ve been the moment both of you knew, hundreds of little sparks that ignited into the brilliant flame of the love between the two of you, but there’s only one ending.

This is the end of yearning; his lips are on yours, and his warm hands are holding your body like if he lets go, you’ll really be gone. His hands find purchase on every inch of you like he’s trying to map your very existence out with his ten fingers, and you lose yourself when he licks into your mouth, your own hands flying to his face, tracing the little scar beneath his eye, scratching over his sideburns, on an excavation of your own; to discover him and to never let go.

He has you pushed up against the kitchen counter, large hands groping you through your jeans, soft squeezes at the flesh, quiet moans coloring the air when you move your tongue in tandem with his.

Jungkook promises himself to take it slow, but he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to honor that thought when your manicured nails play with the hair at his nape, when he feels you pull away so you can get a better look at him —

Fuck, are you a sight to see. Red rimmed eyes, swollen lips, cheeks dusted with the slightest hues of pink; you wear a smile so pretty he thinks he could fall for you all over again, and your warm breath hits his face with every exhale.

You think he’s never looked better, either. His lips are bitten from kissing you, tear tracks down his soft skin, jaw tight and eyes dark when he looks at you as though he’s trying to drink you in like you’re a glass of fine scotch. You rub your thighs together, desperate for some friction to provide even a fraction of relief from this innate need Jungkook’s instilled in you with just one kiss, and he catches your lips in another, clearly wanting this to go the same way you do.

Jungkook encases your face in his hands, he feels you keen against his lips and releases yours to curse lowly. Your hands travel down his chest, toned and warm from hours at the gym, and trace down the trail of hair you know leads down into his underwear. It has him bucking his hips against you lightly and you can barely hold back a moan, readjusting your focus so you can trace the denim of his waistband, letting two of your fingers slip beneath the fabric, rubbing at the elastic of his boxers —

You’re a fucking tease, and Jungkook should’ve known this about you after 23 years but he’d be lying if he said that it wasn’t thoroughly enjoyable. It’s barely been 5 minutes of you fervently making out with him, though, that he realizes how badly he wants you. The bulge in his pants is one indication, but he’s utterly surrounded by you — your cologne, your soft sounds, breathless whimpers, incredulous gaze like you can’t really fathom this; he gets it, he’s horrified that he’ll wake up in his bed and you won’t love him back and you won’t be kissing him and feeling him up like this, and he needs to feel you, needs the reaffirmation, needs you to fall apart between his sheets. He needs everything you have to offer, needs to smell your shampoo on his pillowcases and your perfume on his shirts and he might as well should just die if he’s waited this long to stall some more.

Two hands trail down your back, pads of his fingers pressing into the little dimples at the bottom of your spine before they land on the junction of your thighs. His eyes are stuck on yours, like he’s too afraid to even look away, and you smile against his jaw.

“Jump, baby,” it’s a whispered order, too silent for anybody but you to have heard it, and the thought makes your brain go numb for a second — it’s you and him now, your whispered secrets and hushed tales, it’s the two of you and this space you’ve curated, even if it was out of your own heartbreak. You can’t do anything but oblige; fuck, you might as well should just die if you don’t hang on to every word that leaves the tip of his tongue.

Your legs find home around his waist, and he carries you to his room, telling his high school self and college self and every single past existence of his that you’re his. He’s mapping out this floor with you in his arms, and though they’ve been around many women, he doesn’t think any one of them have fit like you do. It’s simple intimacy, you can see sunlight pouring into the living room as he carries you out, you see the art he has framed, and you see traces of his roommate strewn around the apartment. You wonder what his and your apartment will look like, wonder if he’ll like the interior design you do, and decide that if he doesn’t, you’ll let him choose whatever.

The door to his room shuts behind you, and you notice the only photo frame he has contains a picture of the two of you.

Your eyes tear away from the glass frame in fear of breaking down again, and you choose to look at him. You choose to look at his eyes that hold all the stars in your skies, you choose to run your finger over the curve of his face and the slant of his nose and his Cupid’s bow. You choose to bask in his presence, feel all of his body pressed against you and feel him uncomfortably hard against your thighs — it’s a bit filthy, but you’ll take anything when it comes to Jungkook, and you let that thought linger when you lean forward to kiss him again.

Jungkook closes his eyes because he doesn’t think he can look into yours without going insane. He hasn’t shut his curtains, so the sunlight lands on your face and highlights all the angles and all the slopes and he thinks that he should memorize the planes of your face, that it’ll give him a reason to stay alive. Your lips smack softly, and he readjusts his hips so he can grind the clothed bulge in his jeans against your own, and his thighs stutter just a smidge when you let out the sweetest moan he’s ever heard in his life.

His fingers trail their way down from your waist, pulling gently at the hem of your shirt, a silent final exit just in case you want to back out, but you don’t let him even consider the thought of you leaving when you pull your own shirt off your head. It’s an aggressive jerk, one that catches him off guard and following you, abandoning the piece of clothing somewhere in the corners of his room.

Even when you’re just in your bra, he can’t stop looking at your eyes. He can’t stop thinking of you, how you’re in his bed and how he has you with him now and how he’ll have you with him forever if he has anything to do with it. Jungkook never doubted that you were attractive, not even for a slight second, but he doesn’t dare look at you, near naked and in all your glory in front of him — he wonders if this is what Icarus felt like, wanting to fly so close to the sun because he loved Helios too much, and he vows that he’ll be careful, he won’t look too quickly and that he’ll be gentle because he cannot stand even the idea of losing you, even if he’d be the one crashing and burning.

You pull him closer by the name, and his hands go to cradle your bare shoulders. Before he can even process the proximity, your lips are on his neck, and they’re soft, warm: they’re everything he’s ever wanted and he feels like he’s been set aflame because he’s lived his whole life not really knowing what he wanted, but he knows now. Your lips on his skin are the tantalizing fruit that's been dangling behind his head the whole time and he can see it, can feel it and he can feel it; all he’s ever wanted is you, and he lets himself go, voice breathy and untethered to his own self as he moans, incoherent pleas for you to keep going.

Jungkook prays he’ll see marks tomorrow, if this is even real. He prays that you leave a tangible sign, a purple bruise on his golden skin as a reminder that this was once real. If you leave after he’s made love to you, he doesn’t think he’ll be able to recover from it, but if you leave your mark; the indent of your teeth and the faded stain of your lipstick, he thinks it’ll be enough to satiate him.

You’re not one to waste time, apparently, fingers tracing down his abs agonizingly fast before Jungkook can process the touch, reaching for the button on his jeans so he can be free, get inside you, because it’s been way too fucking long and you need him sheathed within your body like you’re entwined, like you’re one entity. You reckon the thought is one of the filthiest ones you’ve ever had, but it doesn’t matter, because you can feel yourself soaking through your panties and you run cold like ice, wanting him to melt you — needing him to melt you.

This will be your new beginning; fuck London, you decide. Fuck London if it means you have him like this, the pads of his fingers running like feathers over your skin, leaving chills in their wake. This will be your new beginning, his lips grazing over your collarbones as he grinds his hips into yours just hard enough for you to feel through your jeans. This will be your new beginning, desperately bucking your hips up to meet him halfway, to gain some much needed friction until he decides to stop giving you the tantalizing guise of what you need, until he decides to unbutton your jeans with daft digits,, pulling them until you lay before him in all your glory.

Jungkook has never known religion until he sees you like this. The curves of your body and the slope of your waist and the way your bra just barely covers your breasts and the way your panties sit on your hips and your collarbones illuminated by the sun that desperately laps at your soft skin like it, too, wants to have you wholly. He has never known a God until he thanks Him for you, thanks his lucky stars that he has you in front of him, fights the urge to sink to his knees and pray that you don’t disappear into a brilliant beam of light like you were nothing but a figment of his imagination.

His cock strains, and he reaches out to stroke the lace of your panties so gently, almost like he’s afraid to leave a mark, though he yearns for yours on his skin. You want to ink the calluses of his fingers so they leave permanent imprints on your body, so you feel the rough drag forever, but it's only an afterthought when he begins to rub at your clit through the fabric. The added friction feels like heaven on your tongue, like you can taste the waning of yearning on the tip of your tongue –

“Fuck, Jungkook,” your voice sounds dazed in your own ears, and he shifts your panties aside to rub your wetness all over your sex, thumb rubbing slow circles over your clit as his fingers tease your entrance. If there was a way to put the bliss, the desperation into words, you’re sure that you could talk for hours. You hear his breathing, heavy like he’s incredulous, in utter disbelief, and you hear the unrecognizable keens of his name.

“I know, baby. I know, I love you. Lemme have you.”

He repeats it like a prayer, those three words running like water off his tongue as he rubs tight eight-figures of your clit. Eyes raking your figure, he drinks in the tilt of your head backwards, a tattoo on your shoulder blade that he makes a note to ask you about, the bend of your elbows and the way your stomach tightens. Jungkook tries to take his time, but his fingers are drenched in your arousal and he deems you wet enough to slip his index finger in.

You moan, high and unadulterated, and he moans, low and throaty; it feels like you’re complete, and he can’t help but wonder how your walls would feel on his cock. You suck him in, pussy greedy for something to fill it, and he does his best to affirm this when he bends down to catch your lips within his again –

“Shit, doll, you’re soaking me… look at your sweet cunt, look at how she’s taking me,” he uses his free hand to tilt your chin downwards, and the pink of your bitten lips distracts him for just a second before he pushes another finger in.

“Jungkook – ah, fuck, more please, more,” you let your mind go adrift, thinking about how good you feel and then thinking of nothing at all when he curls his fingers in an upwards motion, rendering you speechless and fucked silly. The thought of what his cock would do is lost among a myriad of unsullied pleasure, and you don’t know whether it's because you haven’t cum in so long, but you’re dangerously teetering over the edge of your release, continuing to beg him to just throw you over.

He tells you he has you, eases another finger in until the tears that prickle the corners of your eyes finally spill over. He licks them away, rutting his hips up into his free hand like it gets him off, seeing you cry for him, seeing you writhe under him. He knows it's too much, knows that you’re close like he’s done this a million times before, like your body is his own.

“I’m f– fuck, so fucking close,” you can feel the coil in your lower belly so close to snapping that it makes you want to run away from the feeling. It’s all too much, because his thumb feels rough on your clit and his fingers are jackhammering into you like he has a point to prove, because he’s calling you his and his voice is echoing somewhere in the back of your mind, because all you can do is squirm and push your hips up to get yourself over the precipice of pleasure –

“Fu- fu- uck, Jesus –”

“I gotchu honey, let go for me, just let go, ‘m always hare, let go for me –”

What you expect to be a wave, crashing into you like the realization that you loved him had, is nothing but a soft roll of ecstasy taking ahold of every inch of your skin. It starts in your head, numbing your senses and then heightening them, makes its way down to your arms until you’re clawing at Jungkook’s because it’s so fucking good, rolls down your legs until you clench your toes, grapples at your throat until your voice is choked out and all you can do is pant helplessly. What you expect to be a wave is a slow pulse that leaves you breathless and staring up at Jungkook who seems to be mesmerized by the expression you’re wearing, fingers slowing within you as he helps you ride it out.

“Fucking hell, baby. You’re stunning,”

You laugh, out of it and incredulous as he presses a kiss – too chaste for the mind-blowing orgasm he’s just given you – to your temple.

“Gonna make me do that everyday, Jeon?”

“You can count on it, angel. I’ll make you do that every single day.”

The two of you move in tandem, knowing that this wasn’t nearly enough to satiate you both; your hands fly to his jeans, pulling his zipper down and yanking the fabric off of his legs. Jungkook’s laugh is breathy, pupils still blown out as he watches you try to get him naked and he lets you.

He lets you strip him until his skin is bare, watches you rake your eyes over his figure and pause at the ink of his arms. He vows to tell you about all the secret tattoos he’s gotten that remind him of you; that he got because of you, but all he can focus on is the way your eyes go dazed and glossy when you push down his boxers to pull his cock out.

You’re well aware that Jungkook is beautiful, and he’s never doubted his physical appearance for more than a split second since college, but he never thought that his dick would be the center of said attention. Fuck, he has a pretty cock; it’s thick and your mouth waters at the angry vein running down the underside of it, desperate to get your mouth on him and savor the weight of him on your tongue. It curves up, pretty mushroom tip having been rendered a dark red from when he was getting you off, the pearly beads of pre-cum that spill over the sides of it when you rub your hand over his length a stark contrast.

He buckles over, hand splaying over your stomach as he lets out a choked groan at the contact, and you can feel the wetness of the sheet underneath you as you see him lose himself underneath your touch. You could do this forever, and the inexplicable urge to just get him in your mouth takes over your body reflexively, but Jungkook doesn’t let you act on it; his warm fingers press down on your skin, and he lets his free hand replace yours on his cock.

“Gonna fuck you real good, darling. You’re gonna feel it all the way — shit — all the way up to here,” he pumps his cock like he’s trying to deprave himself of your pussy on purpose and your eyes desperate search for his, no longer trusting your brain to form adequate words to explain just how badly you need him to fuck you.

He knows, he knows you like the back of his hand, and he knows how much you need and crave this. Just as quick as he’d gotten your hands off of him, he presses himself to your entrance, rubbing the head of his cock up and down your embarrassingly wet slit. The squelching would typically have you curl in on yourself, but it’s Jungkook, and you’ve let every wall down around him and it feels so fucking incredible when he rubs his dick against your sensitive clit that you just cannot bring yourself to care;

“Please, please Jungkook —“

“I know, I know baby, shhh… just relax for me and I’ll make this so good, ‘kay? That’s my girl,” the hand on your stomach goes lax when you exhale, letting him align himself with your entrance and ease himself in.

He gets his tip in with surprising deftness, rubbing over your torso when you tense your body. He knows you’re not a virgin, he’s done this before and so have you, but with each other? It feels holy, like you’re coming back to earth and coming back to the person each of you is meant to be with.

His inked hand goes to cradle your face, pushing your hair away from your tear-stricken skin, kissing away at the new tears that threaten to slip from your eyes. You breathe out at his touch, and he pulls out all the way to thrust back into you, slipping in and filling you all the way to the brim.

A choked moan leaves you, and your simultaneous gasps color the air, mingling and dissipating as the two of you mold into one entity. Jungkook forgets the Bible verses about adultery, things of new beginnings and redemption and how you’re the Holy Grail he tried so hard to find when you were right there. He curses himself for not doing this earlier, for realizing so late, but it’s all so worth it when you give an experimental roll of your hips, bucking upwards to get him to move.

Jungkook thinks he would give you anything, take chunks out of the moon if you so looked at it with desire, and he thinks that he’ll lay his body down for you if you even implied that you wanted him to. He thrusts into you, a gritty moan leaving his throat when he feels your walls, warm and wet and fluttering around his cock. Your pussy is greedy for him, milking his every drop and he knows you can feel him, knows you feel everything.

He’s right, too, because the veins of his cock, every ridge and every edge of it is fully sheathed within you. When his shallow thrusts get longer, deeper, when he bucks his hips upwards to fuck you just right, when you look down at his hand and see the bulge of his cock in your stomach — fuck, it’s exhilarating, and he seems to notice it too, following your gaze and letting his hips lose their well adjusted rhythm for just a split second.

“G-god Jungkook, so fucking full — shit.”

“Yeah, you are. Fuck, fuck, I told you. Told you I’d fill your greedy little cunt up.”

You think this is the only side of Jungkook you haven’t seen, so when he continues to talk, confidence and this natural allure of dominance absolutely dripping off of him, you thank whatever deity is up there for letting you have him.

“Look at you, tsk tsk. Baby, you kept this pretty pussy away from me for so fucking — shit — long?”

His moans are nothing compared to the high keens, pornographic breathy whimpers that leave your throat. It’s like he’s ripped off every barricade you put up in front of you, has you naked and bare and begging in his sheets like you were made for this, fucks you like your pussy was made for this.

“How’d you keep her satisfied without me, darling?”

He leans down, hands still playing with your hair and holding onto your face in a way that you know will leave pink fingerprints — in a way that makes you wonder if he even believes this is real, grasping onto you so he can reassure himself that you’re tangible. You see the knot in his brows, feel the murmur of his words against your jaw when he presses his lips to the bone, catch the tension in his abdomen as he tries to keep his rhythm.

You’re sure he won’t have to, though, because there’s something about the way he’s leaning down into you, the way he’s thrusting into you so deep, never slow but never too fast, the way he snakes one hand between your bodies to rub at your clit, knowing he won’t be able to last long inside of you. All of it has your head spinning, and you’re not sure if you’ll ever experience anything this riveting, this revitalizing before. It feels like you’re closer to being born again with every thrust, with every bit of the coil in your stomach tightening —

He presses his forehead to yours, thumb rubbing circles onto your clit, cock prodding against just the right spot like he’s practiced this only for you, only for you. Your eyes meet, and you see tears in the corner of his own eyes, you feel his hand trembling in your hair as he tries to leave traces of his prints on every inch of you — you lock your legs around his waist, and the new angle is like the straw on the camel’s back as you’re thrown so violently over the edge that it catches you off guard.

This one is a wave, drenching you and drenching his cock and the sheets and the miles of skin that connect the two of you. He lets out a deep groan, lips connecting to the column of your throat when you throw your head back, nails digging deep into the skin of his shoulders so as to lessen the blow.

Fuck, he wants you to leave his back scratched and bloody, needs a reminder of this rebirth; needs the sting of you permanently imprinted if it on his body, then in his brain.

You get the memo, clearly, running the sharp acrylics up and down the toned expanse of his back as you just barely catch your breath — it comes in pants, the achy pleasure of overstimulation creeping its way up your spine.

If he doesn’t come inside of you, it’ll be his biggest regret. You’re smart, he knows you’re on the pill and he knows you would’ve told him to pull out, wouldn’t have had your legs wrapped around his waist if you didn’t want this just as bad as he did, but he opens his mouth to ask anyways.

“Come inside, baby. I — fuck. I fucking love you, I’ll love you forever, come inside of me, please.”

The deliriosity of your orgasm, along with the continuous sensation of being fucked senseless as Jungkook loses his rhythm and resorts to jackhammering into you, chasing his high like you’re nothing but a toy to do it; all of it pushes you into overdrive and you babble, begging for him to finish inside like it’s the only thing you can think of.

He doesn’t dare look away from your face, mapping every second within his brain, feeling the familiar feeling of an orgasm washing its way up to shore. He’s sure you’re on the same page, too, recognizing the face he’s seen twice now etch itself back onto your features —

You cum for a third time when his hips stutter and he buckles over your body, hand never moving from your head, cradling it like the contact is keeping him grounded. You feel the warm ropes of his cum paint your insides, and the third orgasm is nowhere near as intense as the others, just a gentle pulsation of pleasure and a bout of love that you don’t think you’ve ever felt before blooming over your heart.

Jungkook collapses next to you, dirty sheets be damned when he throws his inked arms over your body. For a while, neither of you find it in yourselves to talk — it’s barely even the orgasms, more so the fact that the two of you are best friends who are madly in love with each other, the fact that you’ve just told each other this and then proceeded to have the most mindblowing sex the either of you could even imagine, all within the span of an hour or so.

He’s first to make a move, lifting your chin so you look at him, smiling down at you so gently that you feel every bit of insecurity — every worry that’s already clouding your mind about the future, London, all of it — disappear.

You match his gaze, trying to read what is so clearly written in his eyes. I love you, they say, twinkling brighter than the golden rays of sunshine that pour through his poorly strewn curtains. It’s hard to speak so you don’t, opting to reach up and slot your mouth against his.

Jungkook swears he’s been given a second chance at life when you kiss him, and he decides to plan it out better this time. The thought goes away quicker than he’d like, though, because you slip your tongue into his mouth and his brain short circuits for the umpteenth time that day. It’s hard to imagine anything being difficult if you kiss him like this, it’s hard to imagine struggle, hard to imagine dissatisfaction, hard to imagine not being in love with every waking moment of his life when he’s this madly in love with you.

You pull away.

“I’m not worried, by the way.”

He grins, leaning into your smaller frame to press a kiss against the junction of your shoulder.

“I know. I’m not either.”

“We‘re gonna make it work?”

“Yeah. Of course. It’s us, ___. We’ll make it work.”

—

Jungkook doesn’t like summer, but he thinks you make it better. You graduate law school a week after he graduates college, and he’s in the front row watching you give your high honors speech before getting your degree. You tell Cravath that you can’t work in London, and ask AJ if he’s willing to quit Wachtell Lipton and take your place.

He tells you that he thinks he’s in love with you, that he’s happy you’ve found love with Jungkook, and takes the job.

You decide to give New York a second chance that summer; decide to give yourself a new beginning as you start to work and don’t immediately take immense bouts of stress upon yourself. Jungkook thinks about what he really wants to do, and though he takes a job that is gratuitously well paying – bless the Comp Sci starting salary – he thinks he wants to freelance art on the side.

–

When fall rolls around, you stand in the kitchen with your mother. The two of you look out at Jungkook and your father turning pages of old photo albums, and she tells you that she’s proud of you. You wonder if this is what it feels like to be avenged. It gets colder, and Jungkook gets you all the white mochas you want to drink, especially when you drive up to the cemetery to see your ex in early October. The two of you lay down orange roses, and you tell him that you’ll always love him in a way nobody else knows – Jungkook is proud, you’re proud, and for the first time in years, your heart doesn’t feel heavy when he drives around that part of town.

Jungkook paints portraits of you in the living room of the apartment you share. The two of your extremely well-paying jobs had let you buy a penthouse in Greenwich Village, and you’re just grateful you can find someplace to call home. Speaking of living together, Mingyu had enrolled himself into a sobriety program when Jungkook had forced him to watch that TED Talk, only this time neither of them had been high.

You tell Jungkook’s parents, too, and their excitement is nowhere near as gentle as your parents’ had been. His mom cries, and his dad tells you that he’s been rooting for you and Jungkook for ages.

(As it turns out, Jungkook had been rooting for him and yourself for ages as well.)

–

Winter follows, encasing New York in an icy chill but your heart has never been warmer. You have a classic NYC Christmas, doing all the insanely cliche tourist activities that are manageable. Nayoung moves out of state as well, and Jungkook cries into her shoulder at the airport. You’re there with him every second of every day – baking cookies, forcing him to take notes when the two of you watch Die Hard together for the first time, in his sweaters, in his sheets, in his heart.

Jungkook’s art sells well, he loves this city, and he still loves getting 2Bros with you – he even forces you to get the meat pizza he’s devoured for years, and you decide that while it’s not so bad, that you’ll continue to make fun of him for it. A tradition, just like the coke floats you still buy in sub-zero temperatures.

He makes you a shaken espresso in February, and you tell him it tastes incredible.

You stop putting walls up, and he learns to actually talk about his feelings, and you’re still the same toddlers from two decades ago; a bit immature, bound to end up together, and totally susceptible to throwing your ice cream cones on the ground if the other shoes any semblance of an injury.

–

New beginnings are for spring, though. Months after his birthday and yours have passed, months after new years, right when the first flowers bloom and the cold starts to whisper it's goodbyes, right when he realizes it’s nearly been a year since the day he’d randomly thought of you and set lose this insane chain of events – right in the middle of April, he decides he’s going to marry you.

It won’t be anytime soon, but seeing as how you’re steadily progressing in your career, and he’s earning more with his art than with his job? The budget for a wedding is definitely on the table, and he vows to officially make you his one day.

Some day.

(He already has the ring in his cart on the Cartier website.)

(Mingyu comes out of the program a few weeks later, and Jungkook asks him to be the best man.)

(You’re on the same page, if the wedding themed Pinterest board he sees you shut with insane speed is any indication.)

–

You love infinitely, filled to the brim and overflowing with it; so much so that it gets overwhelming at times, but neither of you go. You choose him, and he chooses you, and seasons go by and Jungkook figures out the direction he wants to go in this new life, and you learn to be gentle with yourself, and neither of you go.

And so it goes.

You and Jungkook, two kids grow into two adults in the most marvelous city in the world. A million possible beginnings in the span of two decades, but one conclusion; one ending: the both of you aren’t flawless – it’s hard to be – you’re just bad at being alone.

—

a/n: U GUYS ITS HEREEEEE. I’m sorry for the incessant word vomit and unnecessarily long smut scene it was important for the plot development hehe. and if u feel bad for AJ and Nayoung… so do I! this is also a birthday fic for my love jungkook and I hope he has the bestest day in the entire universe I love U my little virgo sweet boy I should Kiss u a million times

taglist: @bumblerebbee @brownapsara @smolbitchwithcakes @allfryou @carmen-j @1316s @yoonjinsyy @bishuthot @ahundredtimesover @readingfavorites

#jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook drabbles #bts #jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook/reader #jungkook blurbs #jungkook angst #happy birthday jungkook #jungkookday #bts smut #bts fics #jungkook fics #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook au #jungkook fic

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hetafice · 3 months

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Yesssss yandere hetalia!! Can I request yandere Russia

hey! i’m combining this with another request that asked for ivan with an introverted s/o. hope you enjoy nonetheless.

yandere!russia headcanons :

Ivan is a man who contains innumerable facades. Vulnerability is hard to get from him, which is why he is so taken aback when he meets his darling. Anyone special enough to catch his attention and keep it must have some sort of hold over him -- and he cannot have that.

He would initially try to distance himself from you, and then after realizing that does not work, he would try to exercise as much control over the situation as possible.

He takes an almost managerial role, employing the use of strict guidelines and occasional punishments to gain a semblance of control.

Once he acknowledges his feelings towards you he will sit and machinate ways to get you to reciprocate his feelings. He regards you as an object that he needs to get sooner rather than later. He would understand that it might be difficult to get you to come off your own volition, so he is not entirely against using force to get you to be with him should his attempts at courting fail.

Ivan often finds himself exhibiting certain behaviors not because he wants to, but because he thinks that these behaviors are what a normal person would do. This leads him to think that presenting himself in a certain way would make you feel comfortable around him, or win your romantic favor -- in reality, they end up coming off as stilted and strange.

If he ends up entering a long-term relationship with you, he’ll likely stop putting up airs, leaving you interacting with someone much more stoic and withdrawn.

Contrary to popular opinion, he is not really hotheaded or quick to violence, and will not let his true emotions overtake his carefully curated mask very often. He is a quick thinker and will remain efficient under pressure. However, should you do something to upset him, he will act quickly and decisively. He loves you deeply, but to him, to truly love someone is to try and bring the best out of that person. He will do so by whatever means necessary.

That isn’t to say that he’s always cold though. He’s happy to dote on you should he think the situation calls for it.

Ivan, however, is no stranger to betrayal. Should you try to leave, exhibit suspicious behaviors, attempt to undermine his authority, or oppose him politically -- there will be dire consequences.

Unlike other yanderes, he has no qualms about hurting you. Ivan witnessed extreme horrors during his childhood, and as such is desensitized to most violence. He will not harm you unprovoked, but should you test him, you will find out how cold and cruel he truly can be.

A more introverted partner may actually suit the life he has planned out for them. Once he finds love he is likely to whisk his partner off to the countryside for a time, rarely to be seen in public.

In the event of an extended business trip, he may take you along, depending on the location. Like countless things before you, people will try and use you against him. Because of this, he would never expose you to an enemy. Should he have a trip domestically, or somewhere he deems low risk he will take you with him. If not, you are expected to sit content in your idyllic countryside home until the two of you can bask in each other’s company again.

Ivan is not super controlling, but he does have a set of rules that you are meant to abide by.

He also places importance on appearances, so you would be coached on how to conduct yourself in formal situations so that onlookers would have nothing negative to say about the two of you. That is why he may implement dress codes, or designate certain discussion topics as off-limits.

After sequestering you away in the middle of nowhere, if you perform well enough, he may move back to the city. He can use extreme methods, but he is not a complete monster. On a deep subconscious level, he craves normalcy. So seeing you navigate life around other people but still choosing to come back to him “willingly” may help him feel vaguely fulfilled.

He is the type to allow you to pursue most hobbies, and would not stop you from expressing individuality or possessing a sense of self. He does however want to make sure that you constantly view yourself as not just an individual, but as a part of a unit. With everything you do, there needs to be a consideration of how it’ll affect both of you.

In his more subdued moments, he treasures domesticity and would like to occasionally dote on you. He'll be pleased if you occasionally let him cook for you or pick out your outfits.

On the same token, he wants to feel as though you depend on him. Not enough to where you can’t exist without his constant care, but enough to know you are appreciative of all he does for you, and that you are hesitant to leave him.

If you follow the rules and do not awaken his feelings of intense paranoia, you can live somewhat normally.

#yandere hetalia #hetalia x reader #yandere russia #hws russia #hetalia #requests are still open!#hetalia headcanons #i'm gonna hide this in the tags #but i hate the interpretation of russia as some unhinged madman #like yes he is deeply traumatized but he still has his wits abt him #like to me he is a deeply intelligent man #idgaf the tortured madman troupe is derivative #anyways hope u enjoyed

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lunarlianna · 1 year

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Asteroid Morpheus

Asteroid Morpheus comes from the Greek God of sleep and dreams. This asteroid can indicate the type of sleeper you are, how your dreams can be and even if you tend to remember your dreams or not. Please read the interpretation of the sign and also the house and remember the aspects as well. The asteroid code is 4197 you can search for it on astro.com =>extended chart selection=>additional objects=>Manual entry

Morpheus sextile/conjunct/trine Jupiter can expand the dreams that you have and also give you prophetic dreams. Same thing goes for those how have it conjunct/sextile/trine Neptune, the Moon, Uranus, the Sun.

Morpheus in Aries/1st house: You tend to have an agitated sleep, maybe you move a lot during sleep. Your dreams may be prone in showing you characteristics of yourself that you don’t really like and be quite violent. If the asteroid is just in your 1st house you may dream of things you want to accomplish but are too scared to take action.

Morpheus in Taurus/2nd house: Your sleep can be deep, you won’t wake up easily, you may dream about more beautiful things, including jewelries and art work, you may create in your dream the perfect world. If is just in the 2nd house the fears that you have in regards to your money and possession will come up in the dream realm quite often.

Morpheus in Gemini/3rd house: You will be a light sleeper and also the types of dreams that you have are quite chaotic. You may be prone to talk in your sleep as well. In the dream real you may have dreams that involves other people even large group of people. You should pay close attention to dreams that are about your siblings as those dreams may show you important messages.

Morpheus in Cancer/4th house: You have a soft kind of dream and very smooth, you like to be hugged during your sleep. Your dreams may be very home orientated and also dream a lot about houses, childhood house in special. Your dreams may be prone to help you heal your femininity.

Morpheus in Leo/5th house: You may have a good kind of sleep, not to fussy and not to deep. Your best creative ideas may come from the dream realm. You may be prone to lucid dreaming and be able to understand that you are in a dream while dreaming.

Morpheus in Virgo/6th house: Your sleep pattern may be very stressful manner, you may not rest well if you dream in a new house and it take you time to adjust. You may be prone to dream a lot about your work environment and colleagues. You may also have a specific go to bed routine. You may have a tendency to sleepwalk as well.

Morpheus in Libra/7th house: Your sleep pattern is light and soft. Your dreams may reflect the way your relationships truly are not the way you prefer to see them. You may be prone to dream that you are abandoned by the loved ones or betrayed by them. You may cry in your dreams as well more often than others.

Morpheus in Scorpio/8th house: You can be a heavy sleeper at times. You may have prophetic dreams quite often and also remember your dreams almost always. You tend to dream about the shadow aspects of yourself and also you may be visited in the dream realm by spirits that passed away, this can happen quite often so you must be careful.

Morpheus in Sagittarius/9th house: You are a moderate sleeper. Your dreams almost if not always involve you being in car/train/airplane or something that is related to transport and you going somewhere far away. You may remember you dream quite often.

Morpheus in Capricorn/10th house: You are a heavy sleeper and you also can sleep anywhere it doesn’t matter, if you feel sleep you immediately fall asleep. You don’t really remember your dreams but when you do most of them have a heavy message that can indicate a change in your career or a change in your goals is needed.

Morpheus in Aquarius/11th house: You are a light sleeper, you may be prone to wake up from little noises, also you are very sensitive to light. You may be prone to have very abstract dreams and also create the dreams based on the ideas that you have in your head but you never let them out. You don’t really remember them but when you do you may need to pay a close attention on how you felt in that dream as it may represent something that you need to let go of.

Morpheus in Pisces/12th house: You are a soft sleeper, you are prone to dream of your past life’s, also it comes natural to you to astral travel. You may struggle to sleep 7-8 hours straight without waking up in the middles of the night. Your dreams are intense and can be prophetic.

Do not copy my posts or you will be sued for copyright infringement. All it takes is copying me a few times and it is considered illegal due to the copyright claim written at the bottom of my posts

Do not rewrite/copy my observations and post them to your Tiktok, Tumblr, Instagram

#asteroid #astrology #astro placements #astro observations #astro community #all signs #dreams #morpheus

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callsigns-haze · 5 months

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Pretty like a crime

Chapter 1

Pairing: Agent Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Singlemom! Agent Y/n 'Cobra' Y/l/n

Word count: 2.5k

A/n: This is the first official post to my new series so please be nice! I'm going to try to make this into a series so please show this story a bit of love and reblog!

Summary: Cobra is finally back on the agency and is finally back in the job. With Kai at home she has to jumble being a mother and a agent. She's sent to her first U.C mission but never thought that she would meet a blonde, green eyed Texan...

Warning: Drinking, fluff, flirting, mentions of abuse, details of abuse

The mission force parties.

Something everyone despised. The dress code, faking complements, conversation without end and the talks that nobody listened to but still it was annual and any who could come was most likely forced.

You didn't hate these events but you didn't enjoy them either. They felt like they were never ending, they were so boring you nearly fell asleep before but nobody could judge you. But truly you haven't been at this event in years. The last time was probably a year before giving birth to Kai.

Kai was the reason you stopped with the mission force. He was a little kid with his mother running a crazy job which wasn't at all fair on his behalf. He was young and didn't know about any of this and you hope to keep it that way until he's older and way more mature.

The only reason you liked these events was the chance to be able to show off something different from your skill of fighting or shooting. Everyone expressed their elegance.

You're here wearing a black slit dress, another silky material that went a bit past your toes, falling graciously around your feet even in the high leather heels that you've chosen for tonight's wearing. You had your hair slicked back and made into a flower bun which looked as if it was blossoming and unfolding at the back of your head. The best thing about this whole dress was the very high slit up your leg, being very sneaky and high up your thigh.

But enough about you and back to the party. This was an official gathering of the mission force and their lovers in a great hall eating, meeting new people, exchanging stories and getting way too tipsy by the end of the evening. And here yet again you're hoping to escape this one early.

I mean you have a babysitter but she sits with your son nearly the full day and now you asked her to do it tonight, and let me say she has never said no but you still felt slight guilt due to this happening. She has been at your house nonstop now and it makes you feel sad not being able to take care of your own kid.

You slip between bunches of people, trying not to get smashed in between bodies and make your way to the left far corner. You see there's always people in big groups at the door greeting each other, hugging and talking, which just blocks the whole hallway. It was annoying but let's be honest that's just society.

You lean your back against the wall, sighing in relief you got out of that warzone before anyone engulfed you in a conversation. You slipped your phone out of your purse, texting your babysitter. You just wanted to know how your little boy is doing.

You slowly take your gaze away from the glass screen and turn your focus to the people around you. This whole party was mostly filled by male agents. How patriarchal but it is what it is. You look around a bit more to see who actually is going to be at the gathering.

Most are admirals, division leaders, commanders and their wives. It's always fun to see which couple fights first in the night, it always ends that way. Some married couple always ends up in an argument in the middle of the party. It's quite amusing actually. Fills the atmosphere with laughter.

You were about to drop your gaze back down to your phone but a man who has filled your entire childhood approaches you.

"Ice," you say, as you're engulfed in the older man's hug. You wrap your arms around his neck pulling him in close, head in his chest, whiffed by the smell of his cologne and let out a small sigh.

You see this man is your whole family besides Kai. You've been an orphan from the age of eleven and your uncle Ice was the one to bring you under his wing.

Your mother worked undercover too. She worked usually on drug dealer cases, going under cover to gain their trust. She got herself trapped in the mess herself and overdosed two days before your sixth birthday. Your dad was left to raise a little girl alone and had no clue how to manage it. Even though your mother may have barely been around it still brought support to your family. Your dad worked as a cop and had to work some pretty mad hours and those hours did not fit in with raising a six year old. He was your whole world and got shot in the head four days before Christmas morning.

Ever since then it's been Ice who raised you as his own. Never wanting to replace your parents but to replace the feeling of being alone and that he did really well. He didn't have kids of his own with his wife but to the two of them, you were their kid.

He kisses your head as the two of you pull back and he gets a proper look at his little girl and sighs, "Every time I see you know, you're a completely different woman." That makes you blush he always knew the right thing to say to make a smile form out of your glossed lips.

"I'm so happy to see you," you say looking him in the eye finally feeling like you belong somewhere at this party. You didn't feel like leaving anymore, with Ice you feel comfort like when you were a little girl. Comfort that you need after the last crazy months. "Happy to see you too, kiddo."

"I have some people that you need to meet," he says calmly, not like a command but not like a suggestion of choice. He wraps his arm around you and you are lead to a group of people. Some you think you recognize.

"I'd like you to meet the daggers," your uncle introduced you to the squad but you don't even listen your eyes lay upon a familiar blonde from a few weeks back.

Your eyes meet with those deep green ones and something in you sparks, something you haven't had in years but what where you even thinking. This guy worked for your uncle and you couldn't feel this about your uncles employee. It was wrong but maybe it's just the eye contact, it's not like it was actually something big or anything after all, just a meeting.

"Daggers, this is my beloved niece, Agent Cobra," your uncle introduces you to the group of unknown personalities. Each of them give you a short but sweet smile, holding their arm out an introducing themselves one by one. The other you recognize from the night a bit back was the tall baby cow eyed, mustached macho. He introduced himself as Agent Rooster.

Each agent had their own code name which they were given by the mission force themselves. Each of theirs was different, with many yet to know meanings, some to do with culture, some to do with interest and some you just got out of pure luck.

When it got around to the blonde who saved you previously he had the same strong tone and tint of accent in his voice as he said, "Pleasure we meet again," as he shook your hand, probably not to pleased that you left him lying in the middle of an alleyway after tripping him up even though he saved your life.

"You two have met," Iceman inquired, with a strong tint of confusion and surprise in his voice. Yes the two of you've met and maybe you haven't stop thinking about what happened ever since but that has nothing to do with any of this. "Our last missions interlinked, in one way or another," you say smirking at the blonde who is supposedly known as 'hangman' rewinding the scene of you tripping him up in your head.

"You could say so," he answered, his smirk matching your equally. His hair again was nicely styled and slicked back as he wears the nice black suit, quite similar choice as the last night but this time more formal, filled with elegancy.

Your uncle starts an conversation with the crew, you at his side, in his expectancy listening but here you were looking at hangman. There was something about him that you couldn't figure out. It's like an weird aura or feeling you have about him that's not been able to get shaken off. There was something special about him.

The night was young and calm but the conversations were like no other. You've found out that from now on you will be more intertwining with the dagger squad and will be paired up with the Texan blonde. Usually you've no interest of who you shall go with but this time you couldn't help but smile to yourself.

You've got to know some stories about the squad and their missions and truly the way they explained their situations sounded like they've enjoyed the missions even if failing could equal death. They seemed really close with each other, something like a family. It's good to have a family like group in the mission force otherwise you'd never make it alone.

Your thoughts were quite deep but still not sinking as they get easily broken by a question asked from Maverick, "Cobra, is Matthew not joining us tonight?"

The question you still haven't a clue how to answer. Your ex husband and father of your child. The man you haven't heard from since you packed your things while he was on a mission, leaving him divorce papers and leaving him forever.

"No, not tonight." Why not say that things have ended between the two of you? You haven't spoken with Matthew ever since you left England. The two of you didn't end on good terms.

"Y/n!" I hear Matthew scream as I enter the house. I speed walk over to the living room to see him sprawled out on the couch drunk and smoking yet another cigarette. "Matt!" I gasp at the horrific scene. This was not the man I fell in love with. But this wasn't the first time. "Why are you late?" Matthew asks as he raises his voice. He sits up from the couch, throws the cigarette to the ground, and crushes it with his bare heel. "I-I'm not! I swear it!" I say in defense and I raise my hands. "Hmmm, ok. You may have not been late but who brought ya home?" Matthew asks as he circles around me like a vulture, with his arms locked behind him. I deeply gulp. Since I left my wallet at home so I couldn't pay for a taxi, I asked my friend Jason if he could give me a ride. Matt may or may not hate this Jason guy to pieces. "I… I um… I rode a taxi, like usual," I say, trying my best to not get caught. "Oh so you didn't leave this?" Matt pulls out my purse and throws it at my face. "Matt-" "Save it you lying bitch!" He yells and slaps me across the face. I fall weakly, as I let all the tears I've kept in for ages out of my system. "Matt please! I'm sorry!" I cry and I shield my face from the monster in front of me. "Sorry isn't going to cut it! You lied to me," he spits. "I lied because I didn't want you to get mad!" I cry, attempting to reason with him. "Too late!" He growls.

You sunk back into your thinking and the conversation continued normally but you were still in thought of the blonde in front of you. It is the smiles, the gentle shrugs and the light in your eyes. That we are both elevated by each other's presence is obvious and even the silences are comfortable. He listens as if your words are golden, perhaps some elixir he's been waiting all his days to hear. From what he says next you can tell he is thinking so deeply, already with a strategy that's several moves ahead of what you am capable of. And in his words are a kindness, a concern that is so quick that, for him, it is natural. This attentiveness is apart of who he is and that is, if your honest, the most attractive feature you haven't seen in a man for quite some time.

--------------

And that's how the night ends, full of conversations and new knowledge. You're now going to be working with the group and are going to be assigned to the San Diego Mission Force and will be working along side of them.

You stand outside waiting for your ride and the same guy, that you couldn't take your eyes off, approaches you, "Calm night isn't it." When his brain came fully online, it flashed an electric smirk. "One of the calmest." Your smile is the sunshine and the birdsong, it is the silencing of the clocks, it is both the cage and the ever open door.

He was handsome from the depth of his eyes to the gentle expressions of his voice. He was handsome from his generous opinions to the touch of his hand upon your own. You loved the way his voice quickened when he sparkled with a new idea, or was so enjoying one of yours that he lost himself for a moment and quite forgot the mask he wore for others.

"So why did you through me onto the floor," he asks out of nowhere. A question you quite didn't expect. You're at a loss for words because You're not sure how a soul as pure as his has survived this long in this world. You're not only soft hearted, you're tough enough to stay that way. That takes a kind of bravery that you're still processing, hence the silence.

"Well it's quite hard to trust a man who randomly comes to you with a gun," you say, glancing down upon your phone checking the time and how far your taxi was away. Usually you try to get away from these parties as soon as possible but somehow his presents makes you feel like staying.

"I guess that a valid reason. I would like to say, I'm truly looking forward to working with you," His large hands play with your smaller ones, the simple jester made you tired. You let him mess with them, you just wanted to rest. You could feel your hands be moved all over the place, then felt small kisses being placed on them as he sees your taxi arrive.

"Me too, Agent Hangman, me too."

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gabessquishytum · 2 months

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Another wholesome findom au where dream is hobs slightly older childhood best friend and hob had the most embarrassing puppy crush on him but dream never saw him as anything but a kid. They lost touch when dream went off to school and dont cross paths until hob is in uni about ready to burn out. He goes to the library late one night and sees dream working there, more beautiful than ever. Hob is proud that dream doesn't even recognize him until he tells him who he is, hes all grown into a man and he can see dream is highkey digging it. They go out and hob has the turning moment of "fuck i need MONEY" because theres so many lovely things he wants to get dream bc thats his king and god now. Dream is a bit amused but he shamelessly plays into it like "how are you going to provide for me if you dont study? Im sorry but im going to have to return that necklace you got me now :/" and hob wants to prove soso bad he can take care of dream and give him pretty things. He graduates with a good job already lined up and that night dream lets hob take him out to somewhere with an actual dress code. The day dream moves down to part time at work hob just about cums in his pants when he sees dream all relaxed in a little slip nightgown reading when he gets home from work knowing that dream has been doing nothing but online shopping for their new house and taking truly scandalous selfies to send to hob at work today. His ideal dream is one that wakes up at 10 and takes til 11 to kinda doze until hes good and ready. And wears all the fancy jewelry hob gets him.

-🔪

Omg this is so HOT. The inherent sexiness of Dream motivating Hob to do his best and take care of his beloved... amazing.

Whenever Hob has a moment of self doubt or feels like he has nothing else to give? He daydreams about the life he's going to give his Dream. Couture outfits and jewellery, expensive interior design, fancy art supplies. A nice massage every week, pedicures and appointments at a very expensive hairdresser whenever he wants. And of course vacations all around the world where Hob will be able to admire his lover in the most exotic locations! That's truly the life that Hob wants to make for Dream. And Dream? Honestly, he'd never ask for any of those things, but he DOES know that it turns Hob on a looooot to spend money on him. And Dream loves the make Hob happy in any way that he can.

So he dresses in his cutest designer lingerie, makes sure that Hob can see his beautifully painted manicure, and he takes as many good pics of his butt as he possibly can. It's vital that he gives Hob something juicy to sink his teeth into, so he can work extra hard...

One day they'll be living their best life together and sleeping in til noon. Dream is looking forward to cuddles with his hard working HUSBAND. Because yes, Hob will eventually have a net worth that's high enough to let him propose, and pay for the wedding that Dream deserves!

#🔪 anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw findom

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miabebe · 4 months

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Christmas With Seventeen

Scenarios of what I think Christmas season will be like with the Seventeen members :)

A/n - this is my first time writing fluff, I don't do fluff, like ever. Guess I'm in a mood this holiday season. Mild suggestive if you squint hehe. It's not proof read, specially since I'm a day late with this lol, will fix the tenses and mistakes later, sorry!

Seungcheol - Christmas Homebody

Seungcheol absolutely loves Christmas. He would be so excited the days leading up to it. He loves accompanying you to shop for decorations (of course he makes sure to pay for every last thing). He loves noticing even the small things you look and smile at so he can buy and gift them to you (the man truly spoils you). He loves watching you decorate the Christmas tree and loves it even more when you ask him to help put the ornaments up where you can't reach.

But the colder it gets, he turns into a homebody, preferring to stay in rather than going out, like he promised he would this year. As compensation, he obediently sits and binge watches your favourite rom coms (that he too obviously loves and secretly cries through). What he loves most is when the two of you cuddle under the sheets by the fire place, in a way that allows him to place soft kisses behind you ear time and again. This was all he ever wanted.

Jeonghan- Christmas Adventurer

Jeonghan hates the winter cause the cold is truly not his best ally but when it comes to an adventure, he's always down. Jeonghan loves making precious memories so taking you to the skii cabin that he used to go to as a child is just another way for him to make a great memory even better. (Plus, he'd also get to show off his mad skills on the slopes). That being said, the man still hates the cold so do expect the mornings to start with a lot of never ending whining of wanting to stay in bed, wrapped up with you.

Once you manage to drag him out though, drowning him in thick layers of clothes, he's unstoppable and a totally different man - excited, mischievous, hurling snowballs at you, tackling you into a snow fight filled with kisses and giggles. In the evening, when the whole family gathers in the lounge for a lego building competition, he's his most serious self, and you watch him, smiling to yourself over a hot cup of chocolate.

Joshua- Christmas Dinner Host

Shua is truly a people's person. He's always celebrated Christmas quite traditionally given his childhood in the US. For him, its all about family and company so he's definitely down to host a Christmas dinner in his house. There's Secret Santa, drunk friends loudly singing carols and everyone is just having a good time. He doesn't like watching you spend so many long and tiring hours in the kitchen cooking up a feast so his dinners are always a potluck.

Oh and of course, there's always a dress code - Joshua needs a little madness in his life so costumes is where he lets himself get crazy. Last year, everyone had to dress up in their ugliest Christmas sweater and this year too he's surely up to not good, you just don't know what yet. What you do know, is that nearing midnight, once he kicks everyone out, he'll come back and throw himself onto you in the bed, kissing you softly before the two of you fall asleep, tired but happy.

Jun - Christmas Dancer

Christmas isn't really a huge deal for Jun. He's just happy to get a few days off to celebrate some festivities and spend some time with you. Come Christmas he's taking you out to your favourite restaurant which he reserved weeks ago. After that, he takes you for a surprise - a night of salsa dancing downtown. The two of you dance for hours, laughing and spinning away. He loves watching you move in the dress you've been dying to wear, stealing little kisses whenever he can. He can also see all those other men glance at you more than often but he doesn't care - He knows you only have eyes for him.

At the end of the night, when your feet cannot take the heels anymore, he offers to give you his shoes which you promptly reject, it would be too cold for him. So instead, he decides to carry you till the train station on his back, your arms tightly wrapped around him, only regretting his decision when you start playfully whispering graphic and inappropriate things in his ear.

Hoshi - Unconventional Christmas

Hoshi doesn't follow trends, he sets them. For him it's all about standing out, making new traditions, thinking out of the box. That's why there's an upside down Christmas tree and Christmas gloves instead of stockings in your house. Though there are some (cringey) traditions he strictly follows like wearing matching pajamas while video calling both your families. Of course he was disappointed when you rejected his tiger pajama idea yet again but he was still happy to wear the red and green ones you bought.

He also likes to sit you on the kitchen counter and cook something you like, definitely with your instructions and guidance. When you clean up for the night, surprisingly, he's not giving you company. Instead, you discover, he's busy building a blanket fort in the middle of your living room, filling it with pillows, fairy lights and a mini projector. You're not really sure what movie you watched that night. Not with the two of you busy with hands roaming around each other amidst the sheets.

Wonwoo - Christmas is all about You

For Wonwoo, any holiday is a good opportunity for him to engage in some of his more favourite activities like gaming for hours on the end. But he knows how much you love Christmas so this holiday is entirely yours, he'll do whatever you want. This year you dress him up to match your outfit and take him to the Christmas market, roaming from stall to stall, dragging him excitedly. Not only does he sweetly follow you, carrying all the excessive shopping you've done, he also makes it a point to capture every reaction of yours on that camera of his.

His favourite photo is probably the one of you looking up at the night sky in awe at the first snow of the year - you look so damn beautiful, he can just keep watching you for hours on the end. When he notices you slightly shivering, he wraps you in his jacket, pulling you close. The soft kiss you give him on his nose gives him all the warmth he needs.

Woozi - Christmas at work

Christmas for Woozi doesn't necessarily mean a holiday. Of course the company gave him the week off but he has deadlines to meet. On Christmas day though, he mentally prepares himself to leave earlier than usual but you know, like always, he'll get too immersed in his work and forget the time. You decide to bring Christmas to him instead so when he wakes in his studio on Christmas morning, you're already there, decorating the place, earning his fond smile.

The two of you spend hours there, you watching him work and him making you listen to some of his tracks in progress. He loves the way your eyes shine when you listen to his songs, that's why you find yourself being pulled into his lap, lips trapped in a deep kiss. When he pulls away, much to your surprise, he asks to head back home. He was serious when he decided to wrap up his work earlier than usual - He wants nothing more than to be with you, in the peace of your home, alone.

Seokmin - Handmade Christmas

Seokmin loves the little Christmas traditions you follow - buying a new ornament for the tree every year, making your very own Christmas wreath and baking that delicious log cake you always make without fail. This year he wants to switch things up a bit so he's been going to classes for a while now, learning pottery and clay modelling secretly. He gifted you the most beautiful handmade coffee mug for Christmas (knowing your habit of having a cup first thing in the morning) but he has more in mind - he wants the two of you to sit together and make this year's new ornament for the tree.

He guides you, teaching you patiently but also laughing at your little mishaps and failings. The lesson ends with a new angel figurine hanging on the tree and the two of you smothered with clay and paint on the floor under it, laughing against each others lips. It makes him all the more happier when you slide him a scarf that you made, after weeks of secret knitting classes.

Mingyu - Christmas Cooking

Of course Mingyu is the most excited about the food and booze when it comes to Christmas. He's been working on his own batch of cherry wine for weeks now and wow does it taste amazing. He's also got some mulled wine that he started making, but that's for after dinner. Speaking of dinner, he loves switching up the menu every year and on this year's list are mostly desserts, which means hours of baking together. He absolutely loves the little icing and decorations you've done on the gingerbread cookies - that crazy creative side of yours always amuses him.

Obviously he's also made a huge Christmas playlist and is blasting them on the speakers through the day. He's also randomly pulling you into the living room for a dance, making sure the two of you somehow, end up under the mistletoe so he can sneak in a few mandatory kisses. It's only when you're both slightly tipsy and settling into the couch for the night that he considers it to be a successful day.

Myungho - Artsy Christmas

Well, if there's a new exhibition in town, of course Myungho was going to take a look. Except, the last day was exactly at the time his year end break started, which meant he only just missed the chance to see it. When he messaged the organisers that he was sad to have missed their show and would love to catch them next year, they immediately responded saying they were willing to open the exhibition one more night, just for him. And you too of course.

That's how on Christmas evening, the two of you found yourself having a little museum date, with the whole space all to yourself. For a while he walked around excitedly talking about the history and artists of various pieces but the night eventually ended with some horribly inaccurate but hilarious impressions of paintings. Safe to say, the both you have new wallpapers on your phone now - a picture of him kissing you in front of the painting of a lady who looks mortified.

Seungkwan - Christmas with Family

You were pleasantly surprised when Seungkwan surprised you with 2 plane tickets to go back and see you family this holiday. He was familiar with your family through phone calls and video chats but he still hadn't met them in person and you weren't sure if Christmas was the right time for that considering your whole extended family would be home. You hoped for the best as the two of you got home, but honestly, there could be nothing better than this.

He fit into your family perfectly - everyone loved him, they were always laughing when he was around, even the family dog seemed to always want to sit by him. Your favourite moment though was watching him sitting in the middle of your many nieces and nephews, reading them a whole bunch of Christmas tales. When he looked up and smiled at you, you sent all the kids off for dinner, pulling him for a deep kiss before softly suggesting the two of you go off to start a family of your own.

Vernon - Christmas Overseas

Vernon didn't think Christmas would turn out like this - Flying into Paris on the Christmas morning, attending the brand event in the afternoon and the after party at night - it was not a part of his plan at all. The only good thing that came out if it was that you agreed to join him. He was glad the two of you had a chance to fly in a private plane early in the morning. And that you were cozily sitting next to him along the run way. And that you looked so absolutely stunning in that black gown his team put you in for the after party.

That's why after he made an appearance and posed for a few pictures, he softly held your hand and lead you out, escaping silently from the paps. Then he called for a horse carriage fit for royalty, claiming you look like no less than one and sat, his arm wrapped around you safely. As you drove into the night, snow falling prettily, he left soft kisses on your neck, sighing that he was so happy you're here with him.

Dino - (Un)planned Christmas

Dino had been dying to get out of the country for days now. He knew you too were sick and tired of the cold and were in desperate need of a retreat. That's why for the year end holidays, he planned a trip to Greece, knowing it was on your bucketlist for years now. He made sure to plan the perfect vacation, the right blend of touristy things and relaxing activities.

On Christmas day though, he didn’t forget to give you his gift - a lovely blue dress for a special dinner. He also rented out that convertible you're always talking about (in the exact same colour as the dress he got you) and drove you into the sunset, blasting the mixtape that you gifted him. It was absolutely perfect, just the two of you in your own world until it began pouring rain, forcing him to quickly pull up into a nearby shelter. But when Dino watched you getting wet, enjoying the rain on your own as he tried to fix the hood of the convertible, he gave up and joined you, laughing as he ducked away from your water attack and pulled you into a long kiss.

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driversatellite · 1 year

Text

this love | h.s | part one

synopsis: harry and y/n were in a secret relationship for years and unfortunately it had to come to an end, but a year after the split they find themselves face to face once again, maybe they can mend what was once broken.

harry styles x desi!reader

part one: y/n finds herself in the most unlikely place

word count: 2.6k

series masterlist | main masterlist | next part

Y/N L/N couldn’t believe she was standing in the GA line at the Forum for Harry Styles’ 15 night residency. If you had asked her what her plans for October 24 were months prior she probably would have said a glass of wine and her favorite romcom, definitely not her ex-boyfriend’s concert. But her superfan best friends had begged her to come with them and Y/N really could never say no to them. It was her people pleasing nature, she thought she’d be able to fake being sick to get out of it, but none of her usual tricks worked on her friends, so here she was standing in line with hundreds of others waiting to see her ex-boyfriend.

It all started on May 5th when Harry announced his residency, Y/N’s best friends Quinn and Zoya were Harry superfans, so as soon as the LA residency was announced they had already made plans to go to as many shows as they could. Y/N on the other hand was worried, she hadn’t seen Harry since their breakup back in November of the previous year, and she really didn’t want to see him, she was still nursing her broken heart and didn’t want any reminders of him. Y/N and Harry had thought they would make it to the end, they really were that couple, but once his tour started up again and Y/N started her first year of medical school, a lot of things started going downhill. The distance put a strain their relationship and neither one of them wanted to tell the other to give up on their goals just to salvage the relationship so they decided to call it quits, it honestly was an amicable breakup, but the fact that they were still very much in love and couldn’t be together was what really broke Y/N. She hoped that they could have worked a little harder to try and make it work, but with their schedules it seemed impossible, so she guessed it was the end of them, but she truly wished he was the one.

Y/N and Harry had met at one of their mutual friend’s dinner party and hit off immediately, Harry fell for the smart and kind girl and Y/N fell for the down to earth musician who had the purest heart. They had decided to keep their relationship as private as they could, Harry didn’t want the public to ruin it for them, he loved her too much. So, only very few people knew they were together, their families and their inner circles. Y/N wasn’t as close with Quinn and Zoya when her and Harry were together, so she had never told them about the relationship, and seeing as they were superfans Y/N really didn’t want to open that can of worms with them. She had only told her family and her childhood best friend and she liked it that way, she liked knowing that their relationship was just their’s. She knew that romance wasn’t dead if they kept it just theirs, it was other people who ruined it.

Which is why they didn’t even think when they decided to buy Y/N a ticket for one show, they wanted to drag her out, because after her breakup she had become a recluse. They didn’t tell Y/N about how they were all going to the concert until her birthday, which was only a couple weeks before the show.

“What?” Y/N was dumbstruck as Quinn held out her phone with the ticket code and a boa in the other hand.

“We’re seeing Harry Styles together!” Quinn grins and Y/N just stared blankly at her best friend.

Zoya frowned at Y/N’s lack of reaction, “Aren’t you excited? You can finally have a night out and enjoy some of the best live music.”

Y/N quickly composed herself, trying to find the right words to say, “Yeah, I'm just shocked I guess, I didn’t know you guys got me a ticket.”

Quinn smiled, “We wanted to surprise you, it’s your birthday gift silly, we’re also buying you your outfit for the show, we want you to have fun y/n/n, you’re always staying in nowadays.”

“I know, I’m just stressed with school and all, and with all the exams coming up, it’s just been a lot.” Y/N tries to explain, she was trying to figure out the best way to let her friends down, cause she honestly didn’t think she’d be able to step foot into the Forum without breaking down into a complete mess.

“I know, but you work so much y/n/n, you deserve to have fun, I promise we’ll have the best time, his shows are truly incredible and you get to dress up, and we all know you’re a fashion girlie at heart.” Zoya says.

Y/N falters, she knew her friends meant well, but she just wasn’t ready to see Harry again, “I appreciate it guys, but I don’t know if I can go, I have a huge exam coming up.”

“I promise to study with you every single day until the concert, I’ll do anything, we just really want you to come with us y/n/n.” Quinn says.

Y/N looked at the pleading looks on her best friends’ faces and caved, she truly couldn’t say no to them, “Fine, but you better study with me every single day Quinn.”

Quinn grinned as she nodded eagerly before pulling Y/N and Zoya into her arms, “Oh this is going to be so fun.” Y/N couldn’t do anything but muster up a weak smile as she hugged her friends.

True to her word Quinn did study with Y/N every single day, she also dragged Y/N to every single boutique that she could find to find the best outfit for the concert, but it was Zoya who had ultimately found the best dress for Y/N to wear on one of her thrifting trips. It was a simple slip dress with intricate embroidery and lace detailing, she had also found the perfect burgundy boots to go with the dress.

The night before the concert was when it really started to hit Y/N, she had a bundle of nerves in her stomach and she felt nauseous the entire night, she couldn’t believe she was actually going to see Harry again, it had been almost a year, and she still didn’t think she was ready.

Quinn and Zoya had showed up to Y/N’s apartment around noonish with their outfits and numbered wristbands in hand, they had gone and camped out to get their place in line, Y/N had politely declined, saying that she was feeling sick--which honestly wasn’t a lie--and wanted to be feeling 100% for the show. The girls had a great time getting ready together. Y/N had missed this part of going out, she loved dressing up, it was the going out part that she didn’t miss as much. Not too long after they were on their way to Forum, Zoya and Quinn were practically jumping off the walls with excitement and Y/N sat in the back of the car with a jumble of nerves in her stomach.

Though she was utterly terrified of what the night would bring, there was a small tiny part of Y/N that was excited to see Harry again, it truly had been too long, and even though the break up had been amicable, neither one had reached out to the other. She wondered if Harry had moved on, Y/N had tried to, she went on a few dates that Quinn and Zoya set her up on, but none of them compared, no one could ever compare to her Harry, he truly was her match. Y/N quickly shook those thoughts away, her goal for the night was to have fun and pretend that she was just another fan who had come to enjoy the music, not the ex-girlfriend of the popstar.

Once they got to the Forum that’s when it all started to sink in for Y/N, she felt like throwing up but seeing the joy on Zoya and Quinn’s faces helped her stay calm, she was doing this for them, she hadn’t been the greatest friend to them, she had always stayed in when they invited her out, it wasn’t that she didn’t want to spend time with them, it was just that she hated going out now, all she did on her nights off was drink wine, eat cookies, and ugly cry to her favorite rom coms. So her going to the concert with them was to make up for that, she wanted to see her friends happy, she wanted to be happy with them, so if this concert made them happy, she would do it for them.

They got in line, they had gotten decent numbers when they had camped out so Y/N knew that they would be pretty close to the stage and she knew that Harry always watched the crowd and he could pick out a face easily, especially a face he knew. Quinn and Zoya conversed with the other fans standing in line while Y/N pulled her phone out to text her little sister for advice, she always gave the best advice simply because she was very blunt.

y/n: i’ve made a colossal mistake

kiara: what did you do this time, don’t tell me you bought that dior bag, i already told you, you don’t need it

y/n: no, i did not buy that bag, but now that you mention it

kiara: no, you don’t need it, just tell me what you did, i swear i’m not covering for you if it’s something that mom and dad will kill you for

y/n: honestly they might

kiara: you’re scaring me y/n/n, just tell me

y/n: i let quinn and zoya drag me to h’s show

kiara: YOU DID WHAT!?! ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!?

y/n: i know, i know, it’s bad

kiara: no you buying the bag would have been bad, this is terrible, why would you agree to this, wasn’t the reason you two broke up because of his tour and now you’re at the show, y/n/n, even i can’t defend this

y/n: fuck, i know kie, it’s just quinn and zoya were so excited, they bought me the tickets and like it’s all they’ve been looking forward to and i didn’t want to let them down and i’m definitely not ready to tell them about us, so i caved

kiara: you made your bed, you must now lie in it you dumbass

y/n: i’m so stressed kie, what if he sees me, what do i do

kiara: idk, this is new territory for, idk how to deal with exes who are also popstars

y/n: you’re not helping

kiara: okay, just relax, you ended it as friends right

y/n: isn’t that what everyone says

kiara: unfortunately you decided to do this and now you have to deal with it, yes it is gonna be awkward but just forget about your history with him for a night, you listened to the new album right

y/n: yeah, of course i did

kiara: wait yeah you did, i have videos of you crying to it, i can’t believe you let me listen to it with you, your biggest mistake honestly, i’m using those videos for blackmail, thanks for that by the way

y/n: yeah, yeah, whatever, ok back to the topic, so i just pretend nothing happened between us

kiara: yeah, you clearly did like the album, so just enjoy the music, i don’t think it’ll be that bad

y/n: you’re right, i’m stressing myself out for no reason, i’ve got this, i’m gonna have fun

kiara: perfect, now what are you wearing it better be hot

y/n: hold on, i’ll send you a pic

kiara: ohhh, cute, remind me to borrow that next time you’re home

y/n: yeah not happening

kiara: whatever, anyways if harry does see you, at least you look hot, he won’t be able to take his eyes off of you

y/n: that’s the opposite of what i want

kiara: what did we just discuss, we’re going to ignore your guys’ past for the night

y/n: yeah, yeah, i’ll keep you updated

kiara: perfect, i can’t wait to see how this trainwreck of a night is going to end

y/n: you’re so

kiara: have fun, and remember tonight you’re just a fan

Thankfully it wasn’t too long after her conversation with Kiara ended that it was time for general admission to head in, y/n/n just kept repeating the same thing in her head the entire time they walked to their spots, “you’re just a fan tonight, no history for tonight”. Because of their place in line, the trio were pretty close to the stage, they weren’t barricade, but they were in the 3rd or 4th row, and Y/N’s stomach dropped at how close the stage was, there was no way Harry wouldn’t see her. But then she kept on reminding herself, “I'm just a fan tonight”.

Y/N had calmed herself down enough to enjoy the openers and she actually was having fun, maybe her friends were right, she did need to go out more. But as soon as the opening set was over and it was time for Harry to come on Y/N felt nauseous again, it wasn’t too late to fake a stomach bug and go home, but before she could make up her mind the crowd started screaming and she looked up to see the Love Band come from backstage. She could feel her eyes water from seeing her old friends, she really did love them, but she couldn’t bare to even think of anything Harry related after the break up, the only person she talked to was Glenn, but that was because Glenn had made it her mission to continue to be Y/N’s friend even after the break up and Y/N admired her persistence.

Y/N shrunk back into her friends, hoping that none of them had seen her. She was trying to distract herself again repeating her mantra for the night when the crowd started screaming again, she had guessed that meant it was time for Harry to go on and when the Daydreaming intro started to play she quite literally felt her heart stop.

Harry rose up from under the stage and Y/N fought to keep the tears at bay, she couldn’t start crying, the show had barely started. She stared at Harry, she really hadn’t even tried to look at a picture of him since they broke up, and as much as she hated to say it, he looked good, no he looked fantastic. She knew how much Harry loved performing, it gave him a special glow, that’s why she didn’t push for him to schedule less shows so they could make their relationship easier, she knew this was what he was born to do and she wasn’t going to get in the way of that.

Once the initial shock of seeing him had passed, she started to dance to the music, she truly did love the music he made, it made her happy. Slowly she felt her worries melt away as she started to groove along to the music, Zoya and Quinn were having the time of their lives and their joy was infectious.

Harry had this magical ability to truly capture the audience’s hearts and Y/N had fallen victim to it, she forgot about all her worries for the moment and just had fun.

---

#Harry Styles #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x desi reader #hs #hslot #hslot la #harry styles fic #harry #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry x reader #exes to lovers #this love series

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silverflqmes · 8 months

Text

໒⦂ 𝐁𝐄𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒.

synopsis. in which you find yourself falling in love with the player behind the main character of the game you have been coded into.

genre. mild hurt + comfort

for @diorlumx <3

kenma kozume x gn!reader

a normal person wouldn’t believe it if they were suddenly told their life was etched into the very coding of the game, left in the hands of the person behind the screen. but that was reality — yours, and that of many others in your world.

you knew, you knew it all too well, as you were the exception.

why it had been you and not someone else, you were uncertain of, though.

part of you assumed something was wrong with you. that your file was corrupted or that a virus had found its way into your mind and consumed you wholly, allowing you privileges most do not possess.

however another side of you, thought it to be a gift, a blessing of knowledge.

for this love would not be possible, had it not been for the adulteration that allowed this interface between you and kenma kozume.

wheras your life was a singular branch to a great tree that was the story this simulation had created, the boy in front of you right now was none other than the player who controlled your fate with a series of clicks.

the protagonist of your tale.

one with an abundance of choices — each option more pleasant than the last, and yet.. it was you that he chose. the person who had captured his frigid heart and melted the ice away, layer by layer.

“y/n, i know we’re separated by reality.. but i just wanted you to know,” he paused, flushing a bit as his bangs fell over his visage. “that you are the reason i keep coming back to this game — why i keep holding off on finishing it.” he confessed, trailing his eyes back over to find you listening, offering him every ounce of your patience and attention.

he was almost certain any other person would have pushed for him to speak up — but you, you looked at him like he was your whole world. as though you’d waited a thousand years for him, and would wait a thousand more, just to hear the words fall naturally.

a smile lifted your lips as you picked his hands up in yours, squeezing them gently. “i wake up every morning hoping to find you again, kenma-san. wishing upon every star that litters the night sky to answer my dreams of truly being with you.” you answered softly, a bittersweet tone behind your words.

“how i wish i could cross the glass that sunders us from one another..” you finished in a mutter, lowering your gaze to the grassy expanse of the school courtyard. “but alas, fate is a cruel, wicked thing.”

the second year slid his hand underneath your cheek with great delicacy, as though you were made of porcelain. prone to shatter into a million different pieces if not handled with care. “fate is also a wonderful thing.. for allowing me the chance to meet you.” he reasoned quietly, urging you to lift your head and meet his loving gaze.

anyone who knew kenma outside of the protagonist character in front of you now would call him a joke for acting as he was.

to just about everyone, he was the hermit of nekoma high’s volleyball club — the unwilling setter thrust into said position by his childhood friend. but he was more than that, so much more.

kenma in love, displaying his true self, was the best version of himself. and he was right here, standing before you and slowly pouring that tentative heart out to you.

although the universe divided you both into reality and simulation, it was still kind enough to allow you one good, real thing. and that was the opportunity to meet again and again, even if an invisible wall separated you.

notes. i didn’t plan to add angst, but it just felt suited to build emotion.. anyway, i haven’t written much for kenma so i apologize if he is a bit ooc! i figured he would have a more vulnerable side if he’s in love yk? i hope you enjoyed though<3

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#— ; 🏹 ) haikyuu fics.#— ; 🏹 ) nekoma.#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #hq #haikyuu!!#kenma x y/n #kenma x gender neutral reader #kenma x reader #kenma x you #kenma kozume #kozume kenma #haikyuu kenma #kenma fluff #haikyuu kozume #hq kenma #kozume x reader #haikyuu imagine

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