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latetaektalk · 2 months

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love to hate you | jjk [viii]

“when obnoxiously rich and spoiled frat boy jeon jungkook comes up to you one day and asks you to fake date him for money, you definitely should have said no. because before you knew it, you were going on insta dates with him and having lunch with his equally obnoxiously rich and spoiled friends.”

— genre: sexual themes, angst, fluff, fratboy! AU, fake dating! AU, college! AU, rich kid! AU, enemies to lovers! AU

— pairing: jungkook x female reader

— word count: 18.351

— warnings: swearing/cursing, communication skills nowhere to be found, chronic overthinking, emotional rollercoaster, confusingly set during christmas <3

— a/n: and just like that we've crossed 100k !! its here, the big one. by far one of my favourite chapters that ive written so far!! hope you guys enjoy it!! praying yall wont hate me for this one haha once again, this is inspired by To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han!

You didn’t miss the look Chaeyoung and Jisoo exchanged, or the way Hoseok longingly looked after Jimin as he quickly walked away to get everyone some food after you sat down, or how Jimin muttered something about how someone clearly needed something to eat. The comment didn’t bother you because he was right and you could admit as much.

The mall had never been your favourite place to go, and even less so today. The Christmas decoration put up around you seemed overly tacky and in bad taste, and you could have ripped off your ears, sick of listening to the same three Christmas songs over and over again. You closed your eyes that ached from the bright colourful lights, and scrunched your nose when your arm bumped into one of your shopping bags. Your patience hung by a string, the fibers breaking with every passing second. Everything hurt, from your head to your arms and your feet.

Nothing was right, and there seemed to be no end to it.

“Fries?”

Jimin specifially offered them to you, placing two medium plates of golden fries in the middle of the table. You took him up on it, taking two and throwing them into your mouth. The fries were bland and not salty enough but you took three more pieces, shoving your face full. As if the grease and carbs would fix anything.

“Do you wanna try the thrift store that Ji suggested?” Chaeyoung asked, choosing her words carefully, and you cringed, shaking your head.

“No.”

The silence continued, and you didn’t miss the looks your friends exchanged. There was clearly a conversation going on over your head, but you didn’t care, reaching for one fry after the other.

“Y/N, it’s gonna be fine,” Jimin said in the end, putting his arm around your shoulder. Bold, but when was he not. “Don’t be so down. That one dress- the beige one looked great on you!”

“Yeah, but also, they don’t care about what you wear,” Jisoo continued, not allowing you to even begin to disagree.

“And you still have time to find the perfect thing, right? If you do decide that the dress isn’t up to standard. Didn’t you get some stuff online too?” Hoseok asked, trying to get you to look at him, but you just closed your eyes and pulled your lips into a line.

They didn’t get it. But telling them that would be of no use, just like how their words didn’t encourage you the slightest bit.

“I promise you Kook’s parents are really the sweetest people I’ve-”

“Yeah, maybe, I don’t know,” you mumbled, cutting off Jimin. You rubbed your eyes until you saw black spots. With a sigh, you leaned back. “I’ll figure it out, I think.”

There was no confidence in your words. To you, it seemed like your life was about to end, all over a stupid outfit you couldn’t put together. The thought almost made you laugh and cry at the same time. This was as ridiculous as it could get.

“What did Kook say?” Chaeyoung asked, and you frowned.

“About what?”

She blinked at you, her brows creasing together. “Well, have you talked to Kook about any of this? How you’re worried about meeting his parents?”

You pressed your mouth into a line, and you didn’t even know where to begin. It seemed futile to you to explain that you possibly couldn’t tell Jungkook about all of the thoughts suffocating your mind. You would look stupid, like an absolute fool. You would look like you cared, and really, you didn’t. It would weird him out—how much you stressed about it, how much it was on your mind. But then again, really, actually, you didn’t care at all. You just were… especially irritable these days. Hormones were raging—your period, of course, greeting you just a day prior.

“No,” you exhaled, shaking your head. You didn’t know what exactly you were denying—you being stressed about meeting his parents, or you not talking about it to him. Probably both. “He’s busy with his stuff. He’s got a paper to finish- it’s fine.”

And even though you closed your eyes, you knew your friends were looking at each other. There was a carefulness with which they spoke to you, and you did feel bad. Just nothing seemed to lift your spirits.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t been in… a good mood these days,” you told them, getting more annoyed at yourself for being the way you were. You hid your face in your hands. “I don’t know what’s up with me.”

“It’s fine,” Jimin assured you. “We know you’re stressed.”

Jisoo placed an arm around you, leaning her shoulder against yours. She opened her mouth before closing again, ultimately she decided to speak.

“What if… you don’t go?”

“Ji,” Jimin whispered, looking at her as if she had just suggested something criminal.

“I’m just saying— it’s stressing her out so much, maybe she shouldn’t go.” Jisoo shrugged, believing her suggestion to be rather harmless. “She can meet his parents another time, right?”

You looked at her. She grimaced, apologetic, about to backpedal, taking your expression as offence. But you waved her off. Her suggestion was meant well, you knew that. It would also be more than a lie to say you hadn’t thought about it too. Of course, you had. But you couldn’t do it. Not when the image of Narae popped into your mind every time you did consider it.

“Okay, fine,” Jisoo sighed, relenting. “But I’m just saying he’ll understand if you don’t want to go. It’s not like you guys are getting married.”

Chaeyoung mumbled something to her, but you couldn’t hear it. If you had to guess she told her to lay it off, which you were admittedly thankful for.

“I don’t even have gifts,” you groaned, remembering that your outfit wasn’t the only issue plagueing your mind. “Do I bring an actual gifts? Or just wine? Flowers? Something more personal? I don’t fucking know.”

“Do you have to bring them anything?” Hoseok asked, frowning. “I mean yeah, I guess it’s Christmas and you’re meeting them for the first time, but I don’t know, I’m not sure if you have to bring them anything.”

“I don’t think you do. They’re just happy to meet you, I promise,” Jimin said, squeezing your shoulder, but somehow, his answer annoyed you even more. Because what if he was wrong? And they use it as a reason as to why they didn’t like you because you showed up empty handed? Poor and rude? You wouldn’t even take a single step in their home. And even if Jimin was right, that they were just happy to meet you—it seemed even worse. Because all you had to show for yourself to Jungkook’s parents then would be…. yourself.

And what if that wasn’t enough?

You groaned, leaning back again. Everything was making your situation only worse, giving you an even bigger headache, feeding the heavy pit in your stomach. And as you spiraled, you didn’t notice the rather obvious text Chaeyoung send, or the even more obvious way Jimin’s phone lit up on the table to display it, just for him to quickly grab it and start typing. Jisoo leaned over to look, and Chaeyoung quickly mumbled something into Hoseok’s ear. You wouldn’t even notice the way Chaeyoung jumped when you spoke suddenly again,

“Let’s just finish eating and go home. I wanna go home.”

No one protested.

By the end, the fries were gone and the grease had eaten through the recycled brown paper plates, and your mood wasn’t much better, still the same level of annoyance always buzzing in the back of your mind. Grabbing the bags from the various shops you had walked in and out of with your friends today, you made your way out of the mall. Stepping outside, you hugged yourself, the wind harsher than the past few days.

“What way is your car again?” you asked, teeth gritting. Your question was aimed at Chaeyoung, but you didn’t have the nerve to look at her. With the tip of your boot, you scraped against the concret, enjoying the way it rolled back and forth. You lifted your head when no one would answer, confused by the silence.

“Oh, uh,” Chaeyoung began, glancing at Jimin who was typing away on his phone. “Give us… a minute.”

She said it as if it was a question, gesturing for you to wait. You looked over to Jisoo and Hoseok for some sort of explanation, but they both kept their mouths shut.

“Where’s your girlfriend’s car?”

Hoseok blushed, and you knew he still wasn’t used to the development of his and Chaeyoung’s relationship. It was cute, and it did make you smile a little.

“Just tell me.”

You tried nice. Nice didn’t work.

“I-I don’t know.”

You sighed, your hands on your hips, shopping bags knocking on your legs. The cold wavered your voice.

“Ji?”

But rather than even say anything, or make an attempt to stall you, she waved you off, flicking her wrist back and forth. At least, Hoseok and Chaeyoung tried to dismiss you subtly.

“Oh my God, what are you guys looking at? Can we just go home, I’m really cold here and I just wanna-”

“Ah, yes, he’s here!” Jimin exclaimed before slapping his hand over his mouth, eyes wide. “Oops.”

You stopped, not needing a second to understand. Jisoo punched his arm.

“You texted Jeon?”

If you were upset and annoyed before, you were even more so now. You leaned forward, as if the reality weighed down on you and physically pushed you. Your eyes darted back and forth between your friends before ultimately landing on Jimin, who was shrinking in on himself.

“Are you guys for real?” you hissed, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You could have ripped out your hair. “But why?”

Everyone looked to Chaeyoung. “We- we think it’d be good if you talk to him. You’re clearly stressed about meeting his parents, so why not talk about it?”

She added on a smile, and you closed your eyes, groaning.

“Guys, I’m fine.” You dug your hands through your hair, looking over your shoulder, relieved to see that he was nowhere. “Where is he? Is he here already? Tell him to go home. He has a paper to-”

An arm wrapped around your shoulder, and you didn’t need to look to know who it was.

“Go home.”

“Damn, hi, it’s nice to see you too, cabbage,” Jungkook laughed, grinning at you even as you frowned at him. He pinched your nose, and you didn’t even have it in you to swat his hand aside, closing your eyes instead.

“You guys weren’t kidding. She’s in a bad mood.”

Your frown deepened, mouth setting into a thin line. Jungkook squeezed your shoulder, quietly apologising to you for his comment, but his smile remained on his lips.

“Alright, I think—” Chaeyoung hooked her arm into Hoseok’s. “—it’s time to go.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll take her home,” Jungkook said, nodding to confirm his own words. “Get home safe.”

“Great, text us when you get home,” Jisoo said, waving at you. “We love you, Y/N! And oh, nice scarf!”

Jungkook laughed, thanking her.

“Yeah, good luck, Kook! Also love ya, Y/N!” Jimin laughed before taking off, sprinting ahead, scared you might just throw one of your bags after him. (Which you were strongly considering) The others waved you goodbye, and even though you were more than ticked off, you did the same, mumbling a goodbye their way. God knows they had put up with your attitude with enough grace today already. You sighed once they left your sight, shrugging off Jungkook.

You looked at him and your gaze softened, if only a little. Even more so when you saw it, wrapped around his neck so prettily. There was something very messy about him today—his hair not done in its usual way, hanging into his eyes, getting longer each time you saw him, the collar of his coat not folded down properly. If you had to guess, he had walked out the moment he got the text from Jimin. But he had thought of your scarf, looped it around his neck carefully. Looking at him now, out in the cold, you were glad you had invested the time into learning how to knit. The scarf suited him, the red matching him well. You were almost tempted to knit another one, one in every colour.

“You’re wearing the scarf.”

“Of course,” he returned, smiling at you, and you wondered if his cheeks hurt, red from the cold.

The thought embarrassed you. You looked down, returning to rolling the tip of your boot on the conrete, back and forth, back and forth.

“Go home.”

“Okay, yeah, let’s go home together.”

He reached to take the bags from you, but you pulled away, lifting your head. “No, Jeon, go home. I’m fine.”

Jungkook shoved his hands into his pockets, shaking his head. This wasn’t going to be easy, he realised. “And how will you get home?”

His question made you frown, as if that was the issue at hand right now. You almost scoffed.

“I’ll walk-”

“Right, because walking in the cold is such a good idea, hm?

“Fine, I’ll take the bus.”

“Do you even know where the next bus station is?”

“I can look it up.”

“Or you can just, you know,“ he leaned towards you, and you couldn’t back off, “not be so stubborn and let me just give you a ride home.”

You pursed your lips, shaking your head. Why was he being oh so frustrating? Why couldn’t he make this easy for you? Why wasn’t he at all discouraged by your behaviour? It didn’t make any sense to you. He should be annoyed with you and your attitude, infuriated because you were being difficult for no real reason. And yet, he smiled and laughed at you, showed you patience. It was strange to you, unexpected.

“I never asked you to pick me up.”

It was like you were a goddamn teenager, fighting with her parents, trying your very best to tick them off. It was like you wanted him to be mad at you, and in some ways, in some real ways, maybe you did. You felt sorry for your friends about your attitude, but not with Jungkook somehow. For some reason, you couldn’t extend the same empathy to him. At least not in this moment.

He didn’t say anything, hesitated, his brows creasing together. His eyes darted to the ground before ultimately finding you again, tongue in his cheek, nodding. For a moment, you thought you won, did it.

“Yeah, you didn’t,” Jungkook said, taking one two three steps in your direction, slowly prying the shopping bags from you. “But I’m still here to pick you up.”

And when he met you with a smile, you knew there wasn’t anything you could do. You let your head hang, as tears shot into your eyes. It had never happened before, you were never one quick to cry, but right now you felt like it. You blinked them away, not allowing Jungkook to know.

He took your silence as a sign of defeat, which it was. Very much so. He had won, and you had to admit that you were actually relieved. That he had proven you wrong, that he hadn’t just left after you had repeatedly insisted he should, or gotten annoyed and sick with you.

Jungkook shifted all of the shopping bags into one hand, using his free one to grab yours. Like he would, of course he would, he placed a kiss on the back of your hand before putting your hands into his coat pocket to keep warm, together. You could have begun crying again.

“Be a good girlfriend, alright?” he told you, leading you to his car, and you scoffed, hoping your voice didn’t sound as unstable and shaky as you felt.

“Be a good girlfriend?” you repeated, raising a brow. Jungkook was quick to see his mistake and correct himself,

“I mean, let me be a good boyfriend to my girlfriend and pick her up after a—” He hesitated, squinting as if he was searching for the right word. “—fun, right?”

There was something inherently cheeky and smug about Jungkook. But you couldn’t quite take offence to any of it, nodding, even if you knew that today wasn’t the funnest day. (And you were to blame.)

“Fun day at the mall with her friends.”

You pressed your lips together. “But what about your paper?”

He paused and looked at you before shaking his head and laughing. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’m almost done. I’ll finish it at your place.”

His hand squeezed yours, and you hated how warm he made you feel. How the warmth spread from your chest to the the tips of your ears and feet. How even if you tried, he remained patient with you. You hated it because it made it so much harder, for you not to fall for him again and again. You hated it because you almost believed him that you could be one of those stupidly in love couples that held hands in their pockets and made each other scarfs.

Jungkook opened the car door for you, and you climbed inside, thankful for the few seconds you had to yourself as he loaded your shopping bag into the trunk. Without a word, he gave you his phone, and by now, you knew the drill.

You unlocked his phone in second before quickly typing in your current location into Google maps. Your address popped up at the top, bookmarked, when you tapped to enter the destination. Handing him his phone back, you wondered what Jungkook’s password meant, 09052020. It seemed so oddly specific, but you didn’t bother asking.

“You should show me what you got.”

The water remained in your mouth a second longer before you swallowed it, slowly screwing the top back on the bottle, eyes set on Jungkook. You shook your head and leaned against your kitchen counter. He was just a few steps away from you, sitting on your couch, taking up all the space, arms spread left and right.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”

He gave you a look, as if to say oh please! His head rolled back for a second.

“I think you should.”

You didn’t respond, pulling your phone out of your pocket instead. Deeming your silence as enough of an answer, you scrolled through your phone, opening the group chat between your friends and you, your feet crossing at your ankle. But before you could even read one text-

“But isn’t that why you were in a bad mood?”

It seemed brave of Jungkook to address it so openly. Or maybe just incredibly honest. You couldn’t do it. He didn’t seem afraid at all that you might just dip back into your bad mood at the mention of it and come out bats swinging. It was admirable in some ways. You didn’t rememeber him to be this confrontative a few months ago when you started this, him and you. He seemed to have found a confidence with you now, convinced he knew the ins and outs of you. Maybe he did. He probably did, in some ways. You couldn’t say if you liked it all that much.

You snorted, an attempt to make light of the situation. “Yeah, so why bring it up again?”

Jungkook reached his hands out to you, a gesture for you to come his way. You thought about it for a moment before abandoning both your phone and the water bottle on the kitchen counter and moving over. He scooted to the edge of your couch to allow you to step between his legs. His hands held yours, thumbs brushing the inner part of your wrist, back and forth.

“My parents don’t care,” he told you, staring up at you with his big eyes, squeezing your hands as he spoke, physically stressing his words. “They really don’t care, I promise you. They’re just excited to meet you. And so am I, excited.”

He paused, allowing his words to sink in with you and take effect.

“But I know you care and you’re stressed about it,” Jungkook mumbled, and you couldn’t look at him, eyes finding the floor instead, right where your carpet curled up because sometimes your couch would dig into it and flip it up. It was so very embarrassing that he knew how much you cared. It felt like you were ripping out your heart and letting him inspect it. You wanted to correct him, set the record straight that really, you didn’t care at all whatsoever! but it felt like a cheap attempt, even more humiliating.

“So why don’t you show me?” he asked, shaking your hands to get you to look at him. You didn’t want to but did anyway. His gaze was soft, just like his smile, and his hair fell into his eyes. You brushed it away. It made his smile widen, so much so he brought your hand to his lips and kissed it.

It was sealed for you then.

“Alright, fine,” you sighed, defeated, moving away from him to dig through your shopping bags. “Look away.”

“What? Why?”

“What do you mean?” you frowned. “I’m changing.”

Jungkook’s features morphed from a frown to a smile in a second before he ultimately began laughing. “Are you really gonna be too embarrassed to change in front of me?” He gave you a moment to deny it. “I’ve seen and touched-”

“Oh my God, just turn around,” you hissed, and for some reason, your cheeks were as hot as the sun. “Either that, or I won’t try on anything.”

He exhaled the most dramatic sigh he could, making a point to show you that he even pressed his hands to his eyes. Just for that, you wanted to kick him. But you should have known that Jungkook wasn’t quite done, needing to squeeze in one more comment, purely to annoy you and nothing more. There wasn’t anything serious about it at all, no deeper meaning.

“Are you gonna be like this when we’re married with kids?”

You froze, arms up and your face mushed together by your sweater and half of your body exposed to the naked air with only your bra to show for. He wasn’t serious, you knew. There was lightness and an obvious teasing embedded with his words. You doubted Jungkook even expected a response from you, probably just enjoyed knowing he made you flustered even if he couldn’t see it. And yet, your heart began pounding and your hands sweating and your cheeks burning and your mind reeling for any possible retort you could offer. Before you could stutter something, he spoke again,

“Sorry.”

The smile was evident in his voice, and when you finally peeled off your sweater, you turned out to be right. You shook your head, throwing your sweater at him before you could think better of it. It hit him in the face.

“Ow, cabbage! That’s not fair, I have my eyes-”

“I’m so close to kicking you out, you know?” you mumbled, keeping your voice quiet as if raising it by any means was dangerous. You pulled off your pants and your stockings you had layered underneath for some extra warmth.

“I said I’m sorry, cabbage.”

But Jungkook sounded far from sincere. You didn’t bother responding, grabbing one of the shopping bags and slipping on the sweater you had thrifted. It was off the shoulders and this warm midnight blue colour, rich and beautiful and cozy. You moved to your old dresser and pulled out the black maxi skirt you had thought to combine it with. The outfit was simple, but with the right accesoires (ones you would still have to buy which the thought of it already gave you a headache), it could work. At least, it could in theory because when you looked at yourself in your full body mirror (which you had thrifted when you had first moved in), you frowned.

“Can I look?”

You gave a grunt in response, still looking at your reflection as if you had put together the most hideous outfit possible. It wasn’t much of a yes or no, so for a few seconds Jungkook hesitated, but he slowly peeled his eyes open.

“Oh, cabbage! You look so amazing-”

“No.”

It was as simple as that for you, shaking your head.

“What? But you look-”

“I don’t like it,” you said, already moving to take off the skirt. “Close your eyes.”

You expected some sort of protest from Jungkook, but he actually did as you said. Just as quick as you had decided that the outfit wouldn’t work, you peeled it off of you. You rummaged through your next shopping bags, looking at the pieces you had gotten—a cream knit sweater and white maxi skirt. But all of a sudden, you hated it. You clearly remembered loving the clothes in the store, giving the outfit a couple spins and scrutiniscing it from head to toe until it was deemed worthy of your money. But right now as you looked at it, you felt quite the opposite.

With a sigh, you pulled the last shopping bag towards you. It had the dress your friends had mentioned you should wear. This time, you didn’t inspect it any further, not having the nerve for it. So you just bunched up the fabric and slipped it on. But you didn’t tell Jungkook you were finished changing. Instead you turned and looked at yourself in the mirror first.

Jisoo had found it for you—a maxi slip dress. It was in a beautiful and rich wine red colour, oozing warmth, and soft to the touch. The satin flowed down your body, hugging your curves, and reflecting your dim living room lights like water. Lace was stitched along the neckline, which otherwise probably would have been a little too low given the occasion. The straps securing the dress were tied up into small ribbons around your shoulders, giving it a more dainty and playful look. The slit on the left side reached up until your knee, allowing the fabric to move along with your body in harmony. It was a beautiful dress, made for any occasion with the correct accessoires and styling.

You were objectively and undeniably beautiful in it.

And yet, you stared at yourself as if it wasn’t, brows knitted together and lips pursed in a pout, eyes wandering up and down. It wasn’t insecurity—you felt great and comfortable in the dress. But something about it just wasn’t right. You tried imaging yourself all dolled up in it, hair and makeup done to your liking, but the frown remained. It wasn’t perfect enough.

You shook your head, moving to take it off. When you turned on your heel, you looked straight at Jungkook, and Jungkook looked straight at you. His eyes were big and wide and set on you, his mouth agape and curling up into a smile. You gasped, both in surprise and upset.

“W-why are you looking?” you hissed, feeling the heat crawl up your neck, and you threw your arms around yourself.

“I’m sorry. You- you just took so long, cabbage. And so I looked and…” Jungkook finished his sentence with a simple shrug and smile. You frowned at his answer, shaking your head.

“Close your eyes,” you spat through gritted teeth, turning around to change out of the dress. “I’m changing-”

“What? Why?” Jungkook sounded genuinely confused, jumping up from his seat and moving your way, shaking his head. “You look amazing! Please don’t change. I love this dress on you!”

He stopped short in front of you, turning you around and taking your hands into his.

“This dress suits you so well,” he whispered as if it was some sort of secret. You looked to the mirror behind you, inspected yourself, eyes shooting up and down. Jungkook stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist, his fingers interlacing in front of the soft of your belly. He pushed you to lean fully against him, his eyes scanning every inch of you.

“You’re so pretty. So very pretty.”

His words tasted like Christmas chocolate, were thick with honey and sugar, stuck to your teeth. They were bad. Horrible. For you and your heart. Because they sounded so very believable.

“You look incredible.”

He finished with a kiss to the back of your head, and you didn’t know where to look. You placed your hands on his, tentatively, and he was quick to take them into his, scoop them up and hold them tight. He had to know, you thought to yourself, how hard your heart was beating.

“Don’t you like it?”

You met his gaze in the mirror, mouth settled into a line.

“I like the dress,” you said, tilting your head.

“But?”

“I don’t like it for…”

“Meeting my parents?” Jungkook supplied when you wouldn’t finish your sentence, and you didn’t answer, averting your gaze instead. “What do you not like about it?”

You closed your eyes, feeling so very silly. Because you couldn’t say. You didn’t know. There shouldn’t be anything to dislike about the dress, nothing about it was wrong—you loved every little detail, and even more how you felt in it.

“What do you think?”

“I don’t think my opinion really matters here,” Jungkook laughed, and you peeled your eyes open, a smile tugging on the corners of your lips. He was annoying. Just couldn’t provide you with a simple answer when he even has already voiced his thoughts. “But I think you look really pretty in this dress.”

You scrunched your nose. “How pretty?”

“So pretty I wouldn’t mind going blind now.”

You smiled, no, grinned. He was so stupid.

“So pretty I can’t believe you don’t like it.”

You tilted your head to the side.

“So pretty I don’t want you to ever take it off again.”

He pressed kisses to your neck and shoulder, nose burying into your hair, words mumbled into your skin, and hands beginning to wander further south, scrunching the fabric. You let him.

”So pretty I want to take a picture of you and print it out and hang it up above my bed and also keep another one in my wallet and change my background picture to-”

“O-okay, enough!” you said, pushing him away from you because your limbs were beginning to tingle and burn, and his touch was sending shocks through your entire body. Even more so, his hands were beginning to go to places he shouldn’t, not right now at least. You made sure to keep him at an arm’s length, palm pressing into his chest, in fear he’d simply close the distance if you didn’t physically stop him.

“You’re so ridiculous, Jeon,” you said, shaking your head, laughing a little. “You can never be serious, can you?”

“But I am! I’m very serious! Looking at you makes me wanna-”

You were quick to shake your head, hands pressing to your ears because no no no, you didn’t want to know! All while you were smiling, grinning almost. Without realising it, Jungkook had done the impossible—lifted your mood, made you laugh when you felt irritated and annoyed by everything before.

“Fine, I won’t tell you!” Jungkook sighed, dramatically rolling his eyes. You looked at him, lowering your hands, your smile cemented on your lips.

“You’re so stupid, Jeon,” you mumbled, scrunching your nose, and he gasped in faux upset.

“That’s so mean, cabbage!”

“Oh, just shut up.”

Jungkook slung his arms around your middle, doing so before you could even think to stop him. His chin dropped to your shoulder, hands scopping up yours again and eyes meeting in the mirror.

“So, what do we think?”

You raised a brow. “Now, it’s we? I thought your thoughts didn’t matter-”

He sighed, closing his eyes for a second. “Fine, what do you think?”

And you inspected yourself again, gaze wandering up and down. You didn’t know what it was, but the dress seemed different now. It was still the same fabric, same cut, nothing had changed, but you remembered why you had bought the dress, why you had taken Jisoo up on her offer to try it on when she had shown it to you. Because it was beautiful, even more so with you in it.

“Is this the dress?” Jungkook whispered into your ear, and you knew he was hoping for a yes.

You tilted your head to the side, heart beating faster when you opened your mouth. Because yes, it was. The dress, choosing it, it was another step closer to meeting Jungkook’s parents, another hurdle out of the way. Your eyes met his in the mirror, his face so close to yours. The two of you standing there together, you almost could convince yourself you were an actual couple.

“Yeah, it is.”

He beamed, tightening his arms around you, letting out a small sigh of relief. “Okay, good, I’m glad.”

You lowered your gaze, and you wondered if he maybe feared you wouldn’t go because you couldn’t find anything to wear. If maybe that was the reason for why he came so quickly because he didn’t want you to use that excuse. Because otherwise he would have to explain to his precious and perfect parents why his girlfriend refused to meet them-

“How does the 22nd sound to you by the way?” Jungkook asked, pulling you out of your trains of thoughts, almost as if he knew. He mumbled the words into your skin, and you felt every move of his lips. “To meet my parents, I mean.”

Just eight days.

“Y-yeah, that… should work,” you returned, breathless and high pitched, eyes finding the floor. He stared at you in the reflection, nudging you to do the same. You hesitated, but did as he said, breath hitching in your throat when you saw the way he was looking at you, oh so sincere and genuine.

“It’s gonna be fine.”

There was something assuring about the way he said it. If anyone elses told you these words, it would do you no good, bring you no relief. But when he did, it did. It was silly really.

“I promise you.”

“Yeah, really, Jeon?” you laughed shallowly, tucking a strand behind your ear and swallowing. “You promise me?”

And as if looking at your mere reflection just wasn’t enough for him, Jungkook turned you around by your hips, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“I promises you, cabbage. I won’t leave you for one second, alright? Hell, I will drive you there and home again, okay? I’ll be there with you for every second of the day, from the moment you wake up to the moment you go back to bed, glued to your side, so much so you’ll be so annoyed by me that you’ll want me gone. You won’t even go the bathroom on your own, okay?” He paused for a second, scrunching his nose. “I’ll make sure you will have the most non awkward but perfect and fun evening possible.”

His phrasing made you laugh, ebbed the waves of anxiety crashing onto your mind over and over again when you thought a little too much about the next week. His parents, him and you, in one room.

“It’s gonna be great.”

Jungkook smiled at you, a little too bright and too wide. You returned it to the best of your abilities, letting him pull you back into a hug, eyes falling shut.

“Okay, I believe you,” you told him, hearing his heart beating in his chest. “For once.”

He tightened his arms around you.

(“Do you think it will have snowed by then?” he asked you when the intro to the new episode of Avatar began playing on his laptop. You looked up, eyes catching his, your head rested against his chest and his arms around you.

“What?”

“By the 22nd I mean. Do you think it will have snowed by then?”

You frowned, thinking of the last few winters. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

He thought about your answer for a few more seconds, looking off to the side before returning your gaze. “I hope. I’d like to spend a proper white Christmas with you.”

“Pray to the Gods then,” you said. “Chances aren’t so good.”

The past few years it had always only snowed in January.

“Oh, I do, every day,” Jungkook laughed, and you hummed, focusing back on the episode and missing the way his gaze softened at your sight.)

“Okay, so I’ll be back right before New Year,” Chaeyoung said, giving her calendar one last look before snapping it close again. “Who of us is gonna be here?”

Hoseok and you both let out affirmative noises, and Jimin raised his hand in a yes as well, mouth stuffed with his sandwich. You scooted closer to the table to let a guy squeeze through as he made his way to the lunch table with his friends, a tray full of bland and dry cafeteria food.

“I’m not sure yet,” Jisoo said, taking a handful of grapes from her purple grape shaped lunch box and plopping each one into her mouth. “My sister asked if I wanted to celebrate New Year’s with her. But maybe she’ll go over to her girlfriend’s. She isn’t sure yet. I’ll text you guys?”

“I’ll be here the entire holidays,” Namjoon sighed. “I still have finals.”

“Ah, I’m sorry,” you said, offering him a smile. He waved you off, mumbling something about how at least he was almost finished up with it all.

“Well, at least we will be spending New Year’s together, right?” Jimin said with a smile.

You took a sip from your green tea, needing warmth because your University never turned on the heaters, preferring their students to freeze. Where did your tuition money go?

“Okay, but how about Christmas eve for everyone else? When are you guys heading back home again?” Hoseok asked, shovelling his protein oatmeal into his mouth. “You’re going tonight, right, Ji? With Jennie?”

“Yeah, our train’s booked for 8 pm.”

“I’ll go on the 23rd,” Jimin said, and Chaeyoung echoed the same.

“You’re going tomorrow, right?” she asked Hoseok, and he nodded. “When are you meeting Kook’s parents again, Y/N? The 22nd?”

“Yeah.” You played with the lip of your paper cup, feeling the warmth of your tea. Your heart grew a little heavier, scared one of them would ask when you’d go meet your parents. Because you weren’t, at least not on Christmas eve. Both of them had to work, unable to take a day off. It was an irrational fear, you were aware. Because your friends knew that very well. They’d never ask, but your heart didn’t understand.

“That’s- oh my God, that’s in four days, huh?” Jisoo gasped, and the horror and terror gripping you must have reflected on your face because she was quick to interject. “Oh, sorry. No, it’s gonna be great, Y/N. I don’t know why I said that. That was stupid.”

“You’re still anxious about it, huh?” Hoseok mumbled, and though he worded it like a question, all of you knew the answer.

“Hard not to be,” you said, voice a little short and curt. “It comes in… waves.”

Namjoon patted your shoulder. “It’s gonna be fine.”

Chaeyoung reached for your hand, squeezing it. “Yeah, I’m sure. We’re all gonna be there for you if it does somehow go wrong—which I highly, highly doubt might I add.”

“Well, not Jisoo. She’s gonna be home, busy showing off her Jennie,” you joked, trying to make light of the situation but it sounded just slightly off.

“What? I can’t be there for you from home?” Jisoo gasped, and before you could question how she’d do that, she continued. “I’m there for you too, telepathically! Jennie too! In your heart! Always! Over the phone! Don’t doubt us!”

You laughed a little, mouthing an apology.

“But you definitely won’t need us,” Jimin said. “Because it’s gonna be fine. Especially because Kook’s gonna make sure of it, okay?”

Before you could return something, your eyes were drawn to the doors.

Oh.

Your friends followed your gaze.

Jungkook had his backpack strapped to his shoulder and the red scarf wrapped around his neck. It shouldn’t be possible. You were technically too far for you to properly see, but you saw it—the tension in his shoulders, the strain in his nape, the deep knit between his brows. He was…. annoyed. It was new to you. For a moment, you almost expected to find Narae walking behind him, bugging him, hot on his trail. It would explain it to you, and you would just simply walk over there and pull him to your table. Just like that, you would ease the knit between your brows, take the tension out of his shoulders and neck-

But it wasn’t Narae.

It was Taehyung.

He said something to Jungkook that made him roll his eyes. Jungkook didn’t seem to want to respond, shaking his head and waving his hand around, an attempt to end the conversation. But Taehyung wasn’t so kind, going on, even taking hold of his shoulder.

“Someone is in a mood,” Namjoon mumbled, cringing.

“What are they talking about, Y/N?” Jimin asked, looking at you, and you stared right back at him, frowning.

“How would I know?”

“You’re his girlfriend.”

“So?”

“Go find out.”

“What? I just walk up to them and say,” you raised your voice a few pitches, “‘Oh my God, hi, you guys are clearly fighting. Care to share?’ Is that what you want?”

Jimin blinked, shrugging. “Sure, that would work.”

“You’re so ridiculous, Jimin,” you hissed, touching a hand to your forehead. “That wouldn’t work.”

“Of course, it would. Kook’s absolutely obsessed-”

“Oh my God, shut up,” Chaeyoung hissed, slapping Jimin. “They’re looking!”

“You guys are always so loud,” Hoseok sighed, and you sent him a glare because no, you don’t! It’s just Jimin!

But they were right. Taehyung and Jungkook were both looking at you, their conversation having come to an end. When you met his gaze, Jungkook’s face contorted into something else, features twitching. You couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but it wasn’t the usual. He didn’t soften in the way you were used to when he would see you. And when you tried a smile, Jungkook struggled to return it. You felt shot, and your smile faltered.

But Jimin didn’t sense it at all, wildly waving his hand around, gesturing for the two to come this way. And as if it wasn’t more obvious, he yelled it too, “Hey, Tae and Kook! Come join us!”

Jisoo sighed, “He’s such an idiot.”

Chaeyoung and Hoseok shrugged, as if to say well, it’s Jimin. They were right, it was just Jimin being himself, unaware and impulsive. Namjoon didn’t have any words, shaking his head.

Jungkook and Taehyung looked at each other, exchanging a few words before the latter glanced at his watch and shook his head. He had to go. Taehyung placed his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, whispering something into his ear. You must have imagined it but it looked like he glanced in your direction. But before you could think about it, Taehyung headed in the same direction he had previously come from, and Jungkook slowly made his way over, not meeting your eyes once.

“What were you arguing about?” Jimin asked when Jungkook stood in front of you, and you watched him grip the strap of his backpack, the skin over his knuckles stretching thin.

“Jimin!” Jisoo hissed, punching him.

“Ow!”

“Right, yeah, of course, you’d ask,” he smiled. “It’s fine.”

Jungkook said it with a laugh, but it was all wrong.

“We weren’t arguing.”

And as if it wasn’t enough, Jungkook put on his brightest and biggest smile. He showed it to everyone. Like a stone plunged into the deep sea, your heart sank. You had seen it before, that smile. It had decorated his lips during the Halloween party when you first walked in, or when you had first hurt his feelings while you had gone costume shopping.

Namjoon and you looked at each other shortly, both of you sensing it.

“Is everything-”

“Well, it looked like you were,” Jimin mumbled, accidentally interrupting Namjoon. He waited for Jungkook to budge and cave under his gaze, but when he wouldn’t, he shrugged. “Come sit.”

Maybe he could feel your burning gaze on him, but Jungkook finally glanced in your direction. If only for a second, so very brief. But it dug into your heart and split it open, gutted you and left you utterly empty. You had seen him just yesterday, picked out your dress together, parted ways this morning a few hours ago, and now he seemed like another person. He looked so sad, sad in a way you hadn’t seen before. You didn’t think that any emotion close to that had ever crossed his features, not in your presence at least. It was so new and surprising to you—because somehow in your mind, you had forgotten he had the ability to feel… upset—you froze.

“I’m sorry, I have to go,” Jungkook said, nailing that same smile back onto his lips as before. “But I’ll see you guys around.”

And before any of you could protest, he was gone, back turned to your table and heading into the crowd.

“Well, that was… weird,” Chaeyoung said, pointing out the elephant in the room. And as if she had said your name, everyone turned to you for some kind of answer.

You blinked back at them. “Yeah, I-I don’t know.”

There was another beat of silence before ultimately your friends shrugged.

“Maybe it’s just not a good day?” Hoseok proposed, and they were all quick to agree, moving on. And though you didn’t voice it, you knew it wasn’t that. It couldn’t just be that.

You knew it was about you. It had to be. Taehyung had glanced at your direction. You hadn’t imagined it, that much you were sure of. And the fact Jungkook hadn’t been able to look at you cemented it for you. Your heart quickened, a certain question coming to the front of your mind.

What if Jungkook didn’t want you to meet his parents anymore?

Maybe it had finally clicked with him—what it meant if you met his parents. How ridiculous it was. Because you weren’t his girlfriend. It was his parents after all. How stupid all of it was actually. Not just you meeting his parents, but the entire contract you had. How far it had gone, too far.

You pressed your lips together, a knot forming in your throat. Maybe he didn’t know how to tell you now. Maybe you should be prepared for the very worst. Maybe this was it. Impact incoming! The fall was nearing its end, your end.

Your hands began shaking, curling around the edge of the table for stability. Panic built up within you, panic that really shouldn’t build up at all, you knew. Your friends blurred into an incohesive mess in front of you.

Oh God.

You didn’t see Jungkook for the rest of the day, or the one after that. In fact, you didn’t hear from him at all, until almost two days later. Maybe you should have reached out first—you did think about it. But you simply couldn’t, your hands shaking whenever you’d open your chat with him, your old messages staring back at you almost mockingly. Because what if he told you he wanted to end it? What if this was how it would end because you couldn’t wait and recklessly send a message?

There was a few seconds of silence, the sound of his breathing coming in through unsteadily. You gripped your phone tighter.

“Hey.”

Jungkook still sounded the same, and for some reason, you were surprised. Why you expected him to sound different, you didn’t know.

“Hi,” you returned, swallowing because it was your voice, in fact, that sounded odd. At least it did to you. You cleared your throat.

Usually, he’d make some joke, ask you about your day, how you were doing, where you were, if you had watched the videos he’d sent you yet, eaten already. Usually, your conversation would be much lighter, easier. Right now, you felt the air hanging between you, pulling your legs closer to your chest as you waited and waited. He had called you, he would have to speak first.

“I’m sorry I didn’t join you guys for lunch the other day,” Jungkook mumbled, and you closed your eyes.

“It’s alright,” you said, a waver to your voice and you couldn’t decide if it was because you felt cold, even though you were tucked into your bed, or because you felt uncertain of it all, like you were standing at the edge of a cliff, the deep sea awaiting you on the other side, waves crashing up on you.

Neither of you said anything.

Your throat grew dry, the questions coming back up again within you. Was he going to tell you over the phone? That he didn’t want you to meet his parents anymore. Maybe even that he wanted to call this entire thing off. That he’d realised this wasn’t worth it anymore, doing all of this to win a stupid bet he’d made with Taehyung months ago. It had gotten too exhausting, you had gotten too exhausting for him. Let’s just end it here, tell everyone you’d just fallen out of love. Hell maybe he’d be even willing to tell everyone the truth, how they’d been fooled. It had all been an act! How fun! How could you all think he was in love with-

“Everything’s alright.”

You paused. “What?”

“I-” Jungkook faltered, letting out a laugh. It came through oh so light and clear. Just not quite genuine. Or maybe you were imagining it, your mind dissecting every of his words. “I’m just trying to say- things are alright. It’s gonna be okay.”

And for some reason, you knew the words weren’t meant to reassure you. But him. He needed it right now, more than you. You blinked, nodded as if he could see.

“Yeah, everything’s alright,” you repeated, quietly. “It’s gonna be okay.”

What exactly he referred to, you weren’t sure. And you weren’t going to ask. He’d tell you when he wanted you to know, when he was ready. Truth be told, you weren’t even entirely sure if you were ready for it, couldn’t say either where your confidence that it’d be alright came from.

“It will, right?” he laughed again, that same laugh. It came through now, the tinge of uncertainty swinging with his voice.

You added a small smile, reassurance. “Of course, it will. Always has.”

Jungkook waited a beat, thought about it for a second. “Yeah, no, yeah you’re right.”

And then, you both went back to silence again. You were the one to break it, doing so before you could think better of it and retreat. The question slipped so quickly past your lips, came out of you with the answer to it packaged within already. For once, you dared something, held out your heart.

“Do you want to come over?”

The question seemed alright at first. He’d tell you he was already on his way, in fact. Had you not heard the engine this entire time? Actually, look outside! How silly of you, he had gotten you again. You’d laugh, buzz him up while telling him how annoying he was. He’d fall into your arms, coat and scarf and shoes still on. There’d be no time for you to tell him to at least take off his shoes because he’d knock you over with his entire weight. But you’d hold him up, if not barely and struggling heavily. You’d do it, and you’d do it with a smile. He’d press a kiss to your lips and ask you again if things would just be fine. And you’d do the same as you did on the phone, like a good girlfriend does, you’d reassure him over and over again until you’d be too tired and fall asleep together. Things would truly be alright, you’d meet his parents and maybe resolve it all. Maybe he and you could be something, more. Maybe he meant it, all of it, the gestures and words and kisses. He and you, together, it could be possible-

“I’m sorry—” You wanted him to stop then. He didn’t need to elaborate. It was enough. You bit down on your tongue, hard. “I’m… just really tired today.”

Jungkook hesitated, spoke slowly, and you wanted to laugh it off, tell him it was alright and to go to sleep, but your throat knotted into a terrible mess.

He didn’t want you to meet his parents.

“Hm.”

It was the only response you could offer. Because if you spoke, he would know, and he couldn’t know—the tears that shot into your eyes.

You pressed your hand to your mouth, and wondered if your reassurance had done anything at all. If not actually you had needed it, even more than he did.

“I think- classes was exhausting, so yeah. You know, right? So I’m gonna go to bed now,” Jungkook said, and you nodded, as if he could see you, and if you checked, you’d realise it was just eight. You bit your tongue harder.

He never liked you.

“Okay,” you squeaked out, your voice a few pitches too high. He had to know, you were sure of it. Anyone would know, even a drunk Jimin could figure it out. It was blatantly obvious, and you pressed your hand harder against your mouth, scared as you awaited what he’d say. You wouldn’t know how to answer his questions if he asked you why you cried. It would be utterly humiliating to admit why—that you knew you never meant anything to him beyond what you’d agreed upon, but that he did to you. So much, in fact.

“Goodnight-”

You ended the call, your phone displayed his name for a few more seconds before you tossed it aside, uncaring that it bounced off your bed and you’d have to look for it later on the floor. A part of you wanted to laugh, outright laugh out loud, laugh so loud because maybe it would drown it out. Because were you not just silly? Stupid? Even more so for the tears that rolled down your face and stained your duvet three shades darker. Clear evidence of your silliness, your delusion, your unwavering and foolish hope.

It embarrassed and humiliated you, how quickly the tears came, how his words had crashed onto you, ship-wrecked you, buried you under. His words hurt, and his dismissal even more. Two words had been enough, had pierced your heart and left you tiptoeing a cliff. Jungkook had more power than you thought he did, power he shouldn’t be holding over your head and heart to begin with. Power he shouldn’t have because you didn’t have it over him.

A text awaited you one morning, just a day before the 22nd.

[Jeon - 07:01 AM] : can i come over later tonight?

And a text was all it took.

Jungkook was not even a second late. Someone was in a hurry to get this over with, it almost made you laugh. Your doorbell rang the moment the clock turned seven. Still, you shrieked, hesitated, stared at your front door like you hadn’t known he’d come, like you hadn’t expected him to come.

You busied yourself with your phone, swiping back and forth, as he climbed up the stairs, your back turned to the door. You just couldn’t watch as he stepped inside. This was it. He’d tell you that he’d realised this had gotten too far, out of hand. You wouldn’t have to meet his parents tomorrow, you had done your part. He’d thank you, assure you he’d break the news to your friends and take the blame. It’d be alright, you wouldn’t have to do anything. And just like before you had ever talked to Jungkook at the vending machine, you’d go your own ways.

His steps grew louder, echoed less and less until he was inside. A draft pulled through your small flat as he shut the door behind you, quiet but final. You shivered and turned off your phone, heart heavy in your chest as you prepared yourself to turn around and face him. You had thought about it all day, agonised how it’d be like to see him again the past week, how you’d handle this, how you could retain just a bit of your pride at the end of this. The scenario played over and over again in your mind—you’d look at him with a smile, tell him you understood perfectly and he didn’t need to explain. It had been stupid anyway, fun but stupid. Both of you knew this wasn’t anything really, it would come to an end. You didn’t mind it at all.

“You know, it’s alright, Jeon. I know what you wanna-”

Jungkook wrapped his arms around you with his coat and scarf and shoes on. He pressed you to his chest, held you even tighter when you hesitated to return his hug, as if he needed to physically feel you, be sure you were there.

You hadn’t seen him all week, and all of a sudden, you didn’t know what to do around him anymore.

“Jeon?”

“Can you hug me?” he asked you, voice barely above a whisper, and though you had been so sure about what would happen just seconds ago, pictured how your conversation would go, you realised you knew nothing at all. You did as he said, putting your arms around his middle and squeezing as tightly as you could, holding your breath even.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like this, but when you pulled away, Jungkook looked at you in a way you had never seen. He took your hands into his.

“I’m sorry, cabbage,” he began, and in the dim light, you could see his eyes glaze over. “I don’t know what’s been going on with me for the past week.”

He paused, breathed in deeply, looked to the side before returning his gaze to you.

“I think- there’s just been a lot on my mind, and I had to figure it out first, I think,” he continued. “I-I don’t think I fully have, but I will, soon.”

You looked at him, silent for a few seconds before you nodded, brushing your thumbs over the inside of his wrists.

“That’s okay,” you told him, giving him a smile. “It’s fine. I understand.”

Truth be told, you didn’t know where you took your words from, where you dug up that reassurance again. Because you’d felt the opposite for the past week. It’d been a horrible week for you, sleepless and anxious.

You’d been tiptoeing a thin line, wondering every second when exactly this would blow over, just how close you were to impact, when your fall would end. Would it be a text? A call? Would he just show up to your doorstep unannounced one evening after you had come back from exhausting classes and do it then? Or would it be Jimin who’d relayed the messages? Would he not tell you at all, deeming not worth the effort even? So, it had been nice to be told the truth—that things had been confusing for Jungkook and he hadn’t figured out how to navigate it all—and yet you weren’t sure if it was enough for you, if it qualmed your worries.

“I’m really sorry, cabbage,” Jungkook repeated, and you wondered what he was so sorry for that he needed to apologise twice. If maybe you were right. Why else would he feel so apologetic? Was the ending coming and he just needed some more time to figure out the order of his words, unable to bring it over his heart?

You should ask him if the things plaguing his mind was how to end this. You should, really. Regardless of the answer, it would free you, however painful it might just be. You’d find peace. Maybe you feared the pain too much, the tears that would run down your face, the embarrassment that would rip you into pieces, or maybe you didn’t care enough for yourself to find out the truth, but you didn’t ask.

Your smile grew bigger, and you didn’t know who you were fooling, him or you. “Don’t be. It’s okay, Jeon.”

Jungkook took your face into his hands, staring into your eyes, looking so intensely at you like he’d never before. He was searching something, and you weren’t sure if he found it, if you held whatever he looked for at all.

“It’ll be fine,” you said, and this was for you, not him.

“It’ll be fine,” he repeated, nodding, and as he leaned closer to you, you wondered if the same would apply tomorrow. When you’d meet his parents, stand in front of them. When they’d scrutinise every little detail about you and come to their conclusion on who you were before you could even open your mouth and utter your name.

You let Jungkook pull you into a kiss, returned it with the same intensity. Both of you needed it right now. What exactly you offered each other, you couldn’t pinpoint. But it was enough to silence your mind and his too.

When his hands wandered, so did yours. He pushed you to your bed, and you let your mattress catch your fall. Your sweater landed on your floor, and soon the rest of your clothes followed. His coat and the scarf you had made him found its place at the foot of your bed. He struggled for a bit to kick off his boots before ultimately stumbling out of them.

Jungkook pressed kisses from your lips to your ear down to your neck and collarbone. Slowly, they wandered further down and down, stopping as he paid extra attention to the places he learned you liked, made your back arch in his favourite way and your breath hitch so beautifully in your throat. Soon, you were pleading with the Gods above, curling your hands around your duvet as Jungkook familiarised himself with you again. His hands pried you open, splitting you into two again and again, bringing you high above. You returned the favour, listened as he found religion through you, drawing out his relief until he needed your lips on his instead. By now, you knew him blindly, your hands finding the sensitive parts of him even as he carved his way back to yours.

“I’ve missed you,” Jungkook mumbled into your ear when he began moving, and you smiled, wrapped your arms around him. So had you.

“Me too,” you returned, your hips finding a steady rhythm together. He pressed kisses to your skin, hands holding you oh so tightly like he usually would. But he hadn’t said it, hadn’t told you for the entire week, not even now when he would on any other day—that he loved you—and so maybe that was why you fell asleep with an uneasy heart.

Had he not promised? That he’d be there for every second of the day, from the moment you woke up to the moment you went back to bed, glued to your side until you were sick of him? Was that not what he had said, the words he assured you with? So how was it that you awoke alone, like you had been for the entire past week, without him?

Jungkook wasn’t here, and yet you looked around your home like he could be hidden in some corner. He didn’t like you anymore, you were sure. Why would he? He never did to begin with. Probably regretted this more than anything else, realised just how exhausting it was to be with you. It wouldn’t be worth it. His parents wouldn’t like you, tell him that he could do better. He’d agree- actually he knew that already. Yesterday night had been a mistake, just like all the other times had been. He and you weren’t the same, never could be. Just like two mismatching puzzle pieces, you’d never make a whole picture together. You’d been right, of course. Jungkook could never like you, never saw you as anything more than a paw in this stupid cruel game between Taehyung and you. And you had been played, over and over again. How stupid of you. Foolish! This-

The blaring of your alarm brought you back to reality, the sound filling your ears. You had forgotten to turn it off. You reached for your phone, shutting it off but before you could toss it aside, you saw it. It made you pause, his name atop of your notifications. A voice memo, just over two minutes. Like it had been all you had been looking for, you hurriedly unlocked your phone. You were about to hit start, when you paused, your thumb hovering just above it. Because it could be anything—a simple breakfast run, or a goodbye. A pit grew in your stomach, and you wished he had just left you a clue about what he’d be saying in it. Your chest webbed tightly with anxiety, a rollercoaster in your throat.

You took in a deep breath, bracing yourself, eyes closed as you hit play. Whatever it might be, you’d be fine, somehow, you hoped.

“Hey, I’m so sorry—” Your chest felt so hollow, his voice unsteady. He was running, the wind blowing up the audio. He sounded far away, you had to strain to hear him properly, your phone on maximum volume. “—I know I promised to be there when you’d wake up, but—”

But I just couldn’t do this any longer. I wanted to tell you yesterday, but I just didn’t know how to. I’m sorry.

“—my mom called me. She’s having an emergency with her car, and now she’s stuck in- actually, I don’t know where, but I’m on my way there to jumpstart her car. And I thought about waking you up for it, but that felt mean and you looked so peaceful, I just couldn’t. But- it’s so cold, oh my God. Listen, I don’t know when I’ll be back, but I’m gonna hurry, okay? So just wait for me, alright? I’ll be there, I promise.”

You heard the door of his car open and close. The wind cut out, and all of a sudden it was quiet. There was ruffling, Jungkook took his phone closer to his face. He sighed, and you could see him right in front of your eyes—sitting there in his car, hair a mess on his head, as he closed his eyes to find his words, a knit between his brows.

“I’m really sorry, cabbage,” he began again. “Both for leaving now because I know I had promised I’d be there, and… again for the past week. I know I’ve been shit, and I know you’ve been confused and- I’m sorry. I haven’t been fair at all-”

Neither had you however, you realised as you listened to him talk. Of course, Jungkook had only left because his mother needed his help. How could you assume the worst of him after everything? When he was so good and kind? Had been all this time to you?

“But we will figure this out, okay?”

Jungkook paused again. You pulled your legs to your chest, burying your face into your knees, teeth sinking into your tongue.

“Let’s talk about this after today. But it’s gonna be fine. Like you said it would.”

You had lied.

“What am I talking about?” He let out a small laugh, and you knew he was shaking his head at himself. “It’s already fine.”

You felt like a traitor. You were terrible.

“I’ll be back to pick you up, okay? So just wait for me. I hope I can get to you by two the latest. I hope it won’t take too long to figure it all out. You know, I actually don’t know how to jumpstart a car, so I really don’t know why my mom called me.”

He laughed again, and you didn’t think you could ever get the sound out of your mind. It was so pretty and melodic, so good and precious.

“Well, anyway, I gotta get going, but I can’t wait for tonight already. I miss you.”

You missed him too, loved him even. Did he? Could he? Could you?

It was cowardly of you, hypocritical actually. But you couldn’t do it differently, didn’t have the courage to look at Jungkook and say it. The words wouldn’t leave you, you were certain, if you stood in front of him. He deserved more than a text, but more than that he deserved the truth. And the truth was you couldn’t do this, any of it in fact, not anymore. Couldn’t meet his parents, or even pretend to be his girlfriend any longer, not in good conscience. It had to end.

Your thumbs shook as you slowly found the right letters, strung together the words and sentences. You hit delete every other word, barely getting a paragraph together in almost an hour. Because worst of all, even as you tried to offer some honesty, you knew you couldn’t offer it entirely to him, couldn’t let Jungkook know just how exactly you felt, how deeply you had plunged into love with him.

I’m sorry, Jeon, but I don’t think I can keep this going any longer. I know I said I’d meet your parents, but I think we’re just going a little too far by doing that. I hope you understand. I know I’m not fulfilling our contract and you’ll lose your bet with Taehyung and I’m really sorry, so I’ll just wire back all the money. I never touched it anyway.

You were about to finish off the paragraph, deciding that any wishes for your future relationship as friends would be too much to ask for, thumb sliding over the glass, when your phone lit up, buzzing and ringing. And right just then, you accepted the call, your heart dropping in your chest. Your stomach twisted terribly because you couldn’t do this. How could you? Hear his voice, talk to him as if you weren’t just about to call this entire thing off over text? How could you pretend it was all fine when you’d felt gutted for the entire week?

“Hey,” Jungkook greeted you, oh so unaware. You could hear the harsh wind coming through the speaker. “I’m sorry—”

You wished he’d stop apologising. If he just knew what you’d been thinking of him for the past few days, all the assumptions you had made about him and his character, his parents too.

“—but looks like I won’t make it by two.”

There was a sigh, and you let the silence usher Jungkook to keep on speaking, knowing your voice would merely betray you.

“I tried to jumpstart the car, but yeah, it didn’t work out. We called some people now and seems like we’re gonna have to have the car towed and fixed at the shop.”

The frustration bled through in Jungkook’s voice. It was obvious. He had spent all morning trying desperately to fix his mom’s car in the freezing cold, and now it had come to this.

“We called my dad. He’s on his way here because I still need to go back to my parents and take a shower. It’s gonna take some time—the drive to my parents, the shower and then the drive to your place—so I definitely won’t make it by two. But I should be at your place by three the latest though, I hope that’s fine?”

You closed your eyes, wondered just what exactly you were supposed to say. And so, for a while you didn’t as you gathered yourself.

“Cabbage? Are you there? Can you hear-”

“Y-yeah.” You chewed on your lip, took a few more seconds before speaking. “You… don’t have to come-”

“What? No, I promised you I’d drive you. Let me at least do that,” Jungkook insisted, and you hoped he’d just understand. How direct did you have to be?

“It’s fine, you don’t have to,” you tried, but to no avail.

He snorted. “Cabbage, I’m driving you. No matter what. My dad’s almost here. You won’t have to wait long. I’ll probably be at your place before three actually. I shower quickly!”

You pressed your hands to your eyes until dark spots appeared, shaking your head. Why couldn’t he just understand?

A lump knotted your throat shut, your voice wavering as you began speaking, “I-I think we should just-”

“Ah, my dad’s here! I gotta go, cabbage. But please just wait, I’ll be there soon, okay? Can’t wait to see you! It’s gonna be great. You’re gonna charm their asses off, okay?”

And before you could even protest, confess to Jungkook that you couldn’t do any of this, he had hung up. You stared as your phone displayed your lockscreen before ultimately turning black, leaving you with your reflection.

You caught yourself in your mirror, realising how puffy your eyes were. It was blatantly obvious you had cried. You were a mess, in no state to meet anyone’s parents, no less Jungkook’s perfect parents. But now you couldn’t even get yourself out of this anymore, not when you had heard his excitement again. How could you disappoint him?

Just one more day. You’d do it for one more day, him and you. You’d just get today over with, that much you owed him, and then you’d sit him down to break it all off.

The dress was still oh so beautiful on you, harmonised perfectly with the white cropped cardigan you had picked out for today because it was, indeed, cold like Jungkook had said it was, and you really didn’t want to freeze. Your hair remained the same as always. You had thought about changing it, but decided in the end that at least your hair should be the way you were used to. Same with your jewellery, the same few pieces you wore every day adorning you today too. You kept the makeup minimal, and still it took you ages to get it done, hands shaky as you carefully drew on eyeliner and curled your lashes.

Looking at yourself you wondered if it was enough to fool everyone, yourself possibly even that you were perfectly fine, that you fit to Jungkook, that he and you could be something more, that your background was the same as theirs, that you were just another Narae, well-off and well-travelled.

But your doubts and worries had no time to brew, your doorbell announcing Jungkook. Shrugging on your coat and slipping into the pair of black kitten heels you had borrowed from Chaeyoung, you gave yourself one more look in the mirror. You looked beautiful, you knew that. Everything about you looked so close to perfect, and yet, you felt the opposite. Today was the last time for Jungkook and you, and just the thought made you want to cry.

You shook your head, not wanting to keep Jungkook waiting any longer. It was truly cold, and you regretted your choice of shoes the moment you stepped outside, cursing yourself. The wind snaked up your legs. Maybe if you knew that this wasn’t going to be your last day together as a pretend couple, you would have run up and changed. But more than ever before, you wanted to look your best today. Because at the very least, however today might end (badly), you looked good.

Jungkook agreed, face lighting up the moment he laid his eyes on you. You tried your very best to return your smile. He looked oh so good too, wondering if he matched you on purpose. His sweater was the same deep rich red as yours, a white turtleneck layered underneath. He paired it off with some black slacks and black boots, your scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. You couldn’t look at him too long, vision beginning to swim when you did, so you focused on the ground, one step after the other.

“You’re so beautiful,” Jungkook gasped, clutching his chest and pretending to have a heart attack.

“Thank you,” you said, speaking quietly, afraid your voice was going to betray you. “You too.”

Your compliment made his smile turn into a grin. “Well, you’re prettier.”

Usually, you’d make some snarky comment, fall into the same old banter you’d established with him long ago. Today, you could barely bring yourself to look at him.

“Let’s-”

Jungkook cupped your face, lifting your eyes to him, forcing you to face him. His gaze turned your insides soft and puddy, hands beginning to shake by your side.

“I’m so happy, cabbage,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your lips. It almost made you cry. You screwed your eyes shut. Before the kiss could go on longer, devastate you more, crush you further, you pulled away.

“I-I’ve got lipgloss on,” you mumbled, giving Jungkook a short smile before stepping aside to walk to his car. He laughed behind you, telling you how he didn’t mind at all, but still, he followed you.

Just as you were about to reach for the car door, he did it for you. Always the gentleman. You paused for a second, surprised (why were you?), before climbing inside, heart heavy as you waited for him to just close the car door. Jungkook didn’t though, drawing your eyes back to him.

“Are you sure about the shoes?” he asked you, brows furrowed together. “It’s cold. You’re not even wearing stockings.”

You felt even more self-conscious all of a sudden, tucking your feet underneath the seat, cheeks warming and heart thrumming. These shoes were the only ones that fit with your outfit. You didn’t have an extensive shoe collection, anything you could change into now wouldn’t match. It’d be a waste not to wear them, especially after you had asked Chaeyoung to borrow them.

“Y-yeah, it’s fine.”

Jungkook seemed to disagree, still standing there with the car door in his hand, and when he opened his mouth, you knew he was going to argue with you.

“I really-”

“It’s fine,” you repeated, reaching for the door handle. “Let’s just go. We’re gonna be late.”

The frown didn’t disappear from his face, but he conceded, albeit with a sigh. His hand squeezed yours, and you flinched, pulling it away as if he burned you. Jungkook stopped, eyes shooting to yours.

Your heart dropped in your chest. Oh no.

You put on your brightest and biggest smile. “Sorry, your hand’s just super cold,” you laughed.

Jungkook blinked before smiling, “Ah, sorry.”

With that he shut the car door, and you pulled the seat belt across your body, readying your words on your tongue that you had thought of this entire time.

I’m super tired. Do you mind if I sleep during the ride?

It was a blatant lie. Every nerve and fibre of your body was lit up, wired tightly. You couldn’t find sleep even if you laid in your bed now. The thought of having to talk to Jungkook for the entirety of the car ride, however, turned your stomach upside down.

You decided to wait for him to put on the seat belt first before saying it, needing a few more seconds to rid the knot from your throat. From the corner of your eye, you watched as he climbed inside, putting his key into the ignition, rubbing his hands together. But rather than reach for the seat belt, Jungkook fumbled with the console, turning on the heat, carefully turning the knob back and forth. Warm air started blasting from the heaters immediately, wrapping you up from every direction.

“Do you want the seat warmer too?”

He looked at you so sincerely. You crumbled almost.

“I-It’s okay.”

“Just say a word and I’ll change it, okay? Don’t want you freezing,” he said before strapping the seat belt across his chest. You turned to the window.

Your voice wavered slightly. “Uh, I’m super tired. Do you mind if I sleep during the ride?”

“Oh, yeah, no, totally. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up when we’re there. Gonna take a while anyway.”

You hummed in response, frowning when you saw Jungkook rub his hands together, blowing into them, even holding them up to the heaters for a few seconds. Before you could wonder for too long, he took your hand into his, thumb brushing back and forth.

“Warm enough?”

He said it with such a beautiful smile. It shattered you. You merely nodded before turning away, eyes closing shut, a lump stuck in your throat. The gesture, however small, dug into your heart like a knife. He was so nice, so kind, so good. And for the past week, you had thought the worst of him.

You knew you had arrived even before Jungkook parked the car. The engine slowly shut off, keys jangling when he pulled them out. You heard the click of his seat belt, some shuffling, and your heart beat faster as you waited for him to wake you up. Truth be told, you hadn’t thought this through. How were you going to convince him that you had slept this entire time when you hadn’t even for a single second? The last time you had pretended to sleep in the car was when you were seven and didn’t want to go to school. And even then, it hadn’t worked, your mother seeing right through you.

Jungkook had held your hand the entire ride. You had so gotten used to the feeling of his warmth that when he slowly pried his hand out of yours, you felt oddly cold. For a second, you thought you had to have imagined it when you heard the car door open. But when the sound of it softly closing followed, you knew you hadn’t. Maybe he wanted to come around and then wake you up?

You waited a few more seconds but when your car door remained shut, you slowly peeled your eyes open. Once again, Jungkook wasn’t there. But your attention turned to the house across the street instead. Jisoo and Chaeyoung had, of course, asked for Jungkook’s address—Just in case. He had happily sent it to them, and you too if you wanted to forward it to anyone else too. (The fact that Jisoo was over an hour's train ride away didn’t matter by the way.) You couldn’t recall the address, but you did remember the house number, and you were definitely staring at the right house right now.

It was bigger than you could have imagined it to be. It was so absurdly big, almost cartoonishly so. Even more so because it was decked out with all kinds of Christmas lights and stockings. You doubted no second the inside rivalled Chaeyoung’s and Jisoo’s home. But however ridiculous it was to you, this was Jungkook’s childhood home, the house where he grew up in. Where he spent his childhood and teenage years. This particular house. A house. Whilst you grew up in a flat, just with enough space to cram in your little family.

You saw him then, standing next to the expensive car parked in the driveway. Jungkook opened the car door to the passenger seat, and a second later, his mother stepped out. He offered her his hand, earning himself a big smile from her. From inside the car, you couldn’t hear what she said, but you could imagine it. She was right, he was a great son.

Jungkook looked a lot like his mother, you realised. She had gifted him with her kind eyes and soft big smile. No wonder, her son was so beautiful. She was an elegant woman. It was obvious. The kind of woman that wore cashmere sweaters, baked fresh bread every Sunday, made sure to do her skincare routine every morning and night, expensive creams and serums lining her bathroom cupboard. Not a single hair on her head was grey. She was the perfect wife and mother.

From the driver's seat, a man emerged, Jungkook’s dad. There was a hint of grey colouring his hair, but he pulled it off well. He was shorter than Jungkook by a bit, but you could see right away where Jungkook got his confidence from. For a moment, you wondered if that was how Jungkook would look like when he was older. Would he resemble his father? His dad quickly rounded the car, greeting his son with a hug before taking his wife’s hand into his. He had a kind smile too, you noticed. Of course, he did.

Jungkook had to have said something particularly funny because both his parents erupted into laughter. You looked away, closing your eyes.

What were you doing here?

The question blared louder than ever before. Could you really do this? Fool everyone? Yourself too? The answer was obvious to you as you looked ahead. A part of you wished you had come to that conclusion before you had gotten into the car. You didn’t know your way around this neighbourhood (of course, not), but you knew you had to get away from here either way.

You stepped out of the car, quietly shutting the door. He couldn’t see, couldn’t know. You had to get away, now.

“Where’s your girlfriend, Kook?”

His father’s voice made you pause. Jungkook sounded so much like him.

“In the car. She’s sleeping.”

“Are you not gonna wake her up? At least, let her come inside and sleep inside. It’s so cold.”

“No, I was gonna, but then I saw you and dad pull up,” Jungkook explained, his voice carried to you through the wind. His car offered you enough coverage to hide and at the same time allowed a clear view of Jungkook and his parents. “Also, I was gonna get her another pair of shoes. She’s wearing heels.”

His mother gasped. “In this weather? Does she at least have stockings on?” When he shook his head, she gasped again. “No, that’s not good. You better get her another pair of shoes. She’s gonna freeze!”

“I know- ah, I turned off the heat!” Jungkook touched his forehead as if to say how stupid of him.

You pressed your lips together, teeth sinking into your tongue. The guilt clawed up your throat, raw and red. It hurt, so much so that you didn’t even feel the cold wind on your feet and up your legs, or the way they ached from the unnatural arch the heels forced them into.

“Go get your girlfriend some shoes,” Jungkook’s father told him. “I’ll get the groceries-”

“What? No, let me, dad. I can do both. I’ll be quick.”

“It’s fine, Kook. We don’t want your girlfriend freezing.” His mother placed her hand on his shoulder. But like the good son he was, he wasn’t having it, already moving to open the trunk.

“It’s okay. I turned off the car just now, and she’s been sleeping peacefully this entire time. I’ll be quick,” Jungkook insisted. “You guys get inside.”

His parents looked at him with a sigh, realising defeat. Jungkook’s father handed him the car keys.

“Well, you better be quick. You know we can’t wait to meet Y/N.”

And with that, they walked inside, hand in hand. Your heart shattered, your name rolling so easily off their lips. It was so odd to hear them say it, hear with how much kindness they did.

You should just go now, take this opportunity to run, but your feet remained cemented, your eyes following Jungkook as he brought the first two bags up to the front door before grabbing the last two out of the car. Moving his foot underneath the sensor, the trunk closed automatically. You knew nothing about cars but you knew that such a feature didn’t come with most, and was definitely not cheap either.

Right now, looking ahead of you, you could see for the first time clearly just how different Jungkook and you were. There were two different worlds between you, a distance that no one could cross, no less a relationship that wasn’t genuine to begin with. It had been nice and fun, foolishly nice and fun, to pretend all this time, but in the end it had been foolish more than anything.

Why you didn’t move still remained a mystery to you. Maybe your feet had really frozen to the sidewalk, the heels one of your worst ideas yet, or maybe you simply couldn’t do it, bring it over your heart to just walk away. Maybe you just needed a little more, of him and you. You knew these few seconds would be the last ones of peace before it would all crumble. The illusion would shatter. He and you would be done, forever. There would be no more hangouts together with all your friends, no more cookies and Avatar marathons, no more kisses and hugs.

Jungkook and you would dissolve, just as quickly as it had all begun in that library with a notebook and pen.

Jungkook was about to turn around and close the door and he’d see you, standing there on the sidewalk with your eyes set straight on him. He’d see you and he’d smile and put down the bags and walk over to you and ask you why you were standing there and why did you get out of the car and how cold it was. How stupid and silly of you!

He’d come over and bring you into a hug and his lips would ghost over the crown of your head and you’d cave and melt and you’d go in and meet his family and it’d hurt so much to tell Jungkook’s parents what your parents did when they’d inevitably ask you because of course they would and you’d have to see as they realised that your parents didn’t get to enjoy higher education. They’d be silent for a few seconds before nodding and smiling. They’d quickly change the topic because it was better to talk about something else and oh I heard something so interesting on the news recently, did you hear?

But you didn’t move, even as Jungkook turned, arms heavy with grocery bags, and lifted his head, eyes meeting yours as you predicted he would. His lips lifted up into a smile, a smile bigger than you’d expected. He didn’t move though. Instead he blurred into a heap of colours.

You could no longer do this.

The image of him cleared as the first tears fell, and you watched as his face crumbled while he watched your chest heave up and down, sobs pushing out from your throat.

Jungkook let go of the grocery bags, the contents spilling out. When he took his step towards you, you did too, away from him. He stilled, frozen. Why, you could see it on his face. Why were you crying? Why were you moving away from him? He deserved answers, an explanation, but the most you could muster up right now was the shake of your head.

No.

And then you took off.

“Y/N!”

You pressed your hand to your lips, scared of filling the street with your gut wrenching sobs. Tears kept streaming down your face, hot and heavy.

You did feel sorry for doing this to Jungkook. But you had to. Because he wasn’t going to. It had to be you. You who finally saw the truth in the eye that this was ridiculous, that this had gone off the rails, that Jungkook and you should have never gotten to this point, to where you found comfort in his arms and he knew your favourite cookies and you showed him your home and he knew more than he should about you. To the point where you had shared the bed together and knew the softness of the other’s lips. To the point where you had irrevocably and undeniably and unfortunately fallen for Jungkook.

You were in love with Jeon Jungkook, and it was the worst thing you could have done to yourself-

“Y/N!”

And it was affirmed when he seized your elbow and turned you around. You didn’t make it very far. Your eyes locked with his, and you could see it in them. How this was going to end. How this had to end, now.

You were reminded of when you ran out on Jaehwa after seeing him for the first time again. It was what you always did, you realised. Run.

You just never expected you’d have to run out on Jungkook too.

His eyes, wide and big, searched your face, for something to give him a clue as to what was going on in the head of yours, anything. He didn’t understand.

You pulled away from him as if his touch burned you, pushed him away.

“Why? What’s wrong?” he asked, frantic, reaching out for you again, but you couldn’t let him touch you, tumbling backwards. Hurt flashed across his features, but this was for the best. Why did you have to be this dramatic? How stupid of you!

“I-I can’t,” you stuttered, shaking your head, dragging your coat sleeve frantically on your cheeks. “I-I just can’t.”

Jungkook stared at you, face twisting and morphing into emotions you couldn’t decipher. You had never really understood him anyway.

“O-okay, hey, that’s fine.”

Who would have thought this would hurt so much to hear?

“That’s alright.”

He should be furious, absolutely and utterly mad with you. You had just run away. If he hadn’t caught you, he would have had to somehow explain to his parents why his so-called perfect girlfriend was suddenly gone. And yet, he met you with empathy and kindness. Jungkook was so good, so precious. He was so much better than you, deserved more.

“I’ll give you a ride home-”

“No!” you screamed, lungs heaving for air, chest rising and falling dramatically. You shook your head, repeated it again, quieter this time. “No, you don’t understand.”

Jungkook stared at you, mouth opening and closing. “Okay, then explain. But let’s do this in the car-”

“Why are you like this?” You threw the question at his head, venomous and bitter. The anger wasn’t fair, shouldn’t be aimed at him at all. What had he done to deserve it? And yet, you couldn’t find it in you to shift the target. “What are we doing?”

His brows knitted together, the knit deepening. “I-I don’t know what you mean.” You looked at him as if he should. “Can we get to the car first, cabbage-”

You flinched. How could he still call you that?

“This is so stupid,” you scoffed, shaking your head, eyes looking at everything but him. The cold wind blew your tears away, and your cheeks felt raw from all of the rubbing and dragging. “I- this is so wrong on so many levels. Why am I even here? What are we even doing? Why are you like this?”

“You don’t want to meet my parents, that’s fine. I really think we should get to the car-”

“Why? Because you don’t want your neighbours and parents to see what crazy person you’ve brought home?”

“What? No! Who said that? I wanna get to the car because it’s freezing cold and you only have a coat and heels on-”

“Oh, please, Jeon!” The laugh slipping from your lips made Jungkook flinch. It was so mean, filled with so much spite. “Don’t pretend to be good. What a cheap and pathetic act!”

None of the words you spoke were truthful. You didn’t know where you pulled them from, you didn’t believe any of them. All of them were hollow and mean. But maybe they’d be enough though to bring out anger within Jungkook, make him come to the same realisation as you had—that he and you had to end. But knowing him, he’d meet you with empathy and kindness over and over again.

He had to hate you.

You had to make him hate you. Otherwise, this would never find an end. Otherwise, he’d convince you of the opposite, and you’d never be able to let go of him. Otherwise, you’d lose yourself completely to him.

And when you looked at Jungkook, you knew you were right. Because there was no no fire in his eyes, nothing. He still stared at you the same way he used to. Even after you had called him names. Hating you was the only option.

“I really think we should just talk this out another time.”

Defeat, you realised, contorted his features. Not anger. Not spite. None of it. Just defeat. You closed your eyes, shaking your head.

“You’re clearly not in the best of moods and saying stuff that you don’t mean. I don't know what’s going on, but let me just give you a ride home and we’ll figure this out another-”

“Figure out what?” You leaned forward, gestured wildly around yourself. “We? Oh, please, Jeon, there’s no fucking ‘we’. Don’t make me laugh!”

He shook his head, hands running through his hair.

“I really don’t think you mean any of this, Y/N. I know this entire situation must be bringing up bad memories for you- I know Jaehwa hurt you-”

“What? This has nothing to do with him,” you scoffed, narrowing your eyes, the words pushing through your clenched teeth like a bullet out of a gun. “What do you know, Jeon? What do you really know, huh? Actually, how can you know anything? You with your perfect stupid fucking family with a house oh so big because you just had to show everybody how you were better and richer and greater. What do you know about anything, really?”

You weren’t making sense, but you could see a change in Jungkook’s face, the flicker in his eyes as you mentioned his family. Bullseye.

“Miss me with that bullshit. You’re the kind of people I hate. It’s all so fake and condescending- fuck, you’re so stupidly loaded you’re paying me to pretend to date you so you can win a stupid shitty bet with Taehyung. Your parents must be so proud of their great great son.”

He closed his eyes, screwed them so tightly shut in hopes that maybe if he did so long enough, this would turn out to be a bad dream. This wasn’t happening. Things weren’t falling apart like that. They couldn’t. His hands curled into fists.

“Now you can’t even look at me, Jeon?” you sneered, voice and words growing more and more vicious. “Can’t face the truth, right? You pretend to be so good, so kind. But for fuck’s sake, look at the house you grew up in! Look at where I live! You’re the same as Jaehwa- actually, no because at the very least, he didn’t pretend like he and I weren’t different. You should have some shame, but I guess with parents-”

“Y/N!”

Your name cut through the air, and for once, you stopped and breathed. Jungkook had peeled his eyes open again, teeth gritted, jaw pulled taunt, hands curled into tight fists.

“I really think it’d be better if you stopped talking now.”

And yet, it wasn’t the response you wanted.

You could have cried then, bawled, fallen to your knees and just admitted to it all. How much you did love him and how much you wanted him, but couldn’t have him because this just wasn’t going to work because he never really did love you and neither would his parents. He and you were doomed, like the moon and the sun. He just would never see it, too idealistic for his own good. Your blatant and devastating flaws. You weren’t good or kind. You had to be the one to pull the plug, to call this what it was—wrong.

“Yeah, of course, you’d say that,” you mumbled, the tip of your shoes digging into the concrete, rolling back and forth. The scratching sound it produced soothed you oddly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know what I mean. You rich people just can’t ever face the truth-”

“No, you idiot!”

His voice echoed through the empty street, loud and clear. Anger and disdain coloured his words, features twisting and knits deepening. There it was, finally. The anger and upset you had waited and waited for, the blow of the bomb, the finale.

“I think you should stop talking because I love you and I don’t want my heart broken any further!”

Jungkook was so loud. You had never heard him so loud before, yell like that, tell you so abundantly clear that he loved you. It was the declaration of declarations, blaring and grand. You had wanted to hear it, needed to hear it all this time, all this week—that he loved you—and now when you finally did, it was truly the worst thing anyone had ever told you ever. Because it was everything you wished for, but you couldn’t have it, none of it. It wasn’t real, and even if it was, even if he meant it and he loved you, you couldn’t be with him. The truth didn’t matter. You were too damaged, too broken, too fucked up to never not doubt Jungkook, not to fear that he’d leave at any point.

You’d never trust him.

“I don’t know what’s going on with you!” He pointed at you, face scrunched and eyes red, tears welling. “I thought we had gotten past this- isn’t it obvious that I do really love-”

“Oh, please. You goddamn liar!” Your voice shook, broke in your throat and mouth, head spinning. You were losing Jungkook, spectacularly so. “What do you know about love? This is an act, Jeon! You’re not in love with me! You’re in love with an act! You’re in love with the idea of winning your stupid bet with-”

“No, no-”

“Yes, Jeon, you don’t know shit. You pretend like you do- think you do when in reality, you don’t know anything about me. Who am I if not just a pawn in your game? Someone you paid, so you could boast and brag that you didn’t get rejected, huh?”

Jungkook licked his lips, veins bulging in his neck as he tried his very best to not go too far, implode on you, hands digging into the roots of his hair. “No, that’s not true. The bet between Tae and me—”

“Actually, you know what? I don’t even care. Because all of it is wrong. It’s not what we agreed upon-”

“Okay, yeah, so we weren’t supposed to kiss and spend time together privately, or sleep with each other and talk on the phone for hours. But look at us now!” He pointed between him and you, as if there was something between you. “We did it all, okay? And? Was it so bad?”

His eyes fixed yours, so deeply. He took a step towards you, and you didn’t back away, couldn’t.

“You call me a liar when I tell you I love you—” His voice shook, trembled terribly, and you could see Jungkook fight to find the right words, struggle to speak. It pained you to know it was all because of you. How easy would it be to take it all back? Admit fault and go back? But would it be right? “—but tell me then, why are you looking at me like that?”

You tried a laugh. A laugh that was meant to dismiss it all, deny the truth, but it sounded hollow and wrong. You couldn’t even look him in the eyes, beginning to crumble. And Jungkook saw right through you.

“Look at me and tell me you don’t feel something!”

You closed your eyes, crossing your arms in front of your stomach. The world began to spin faster and faster, and you felt like you were losing the ground underneath yourself.

“You’re not being fair,” you whispered, shaking your head. You were speaking much quieter now, your voice having lost all of its bite and edge. This had been harder than you expected. “You’re breaking the contract-”

“Oh my God, will you forget about that? Both of us broke it a long time ago, willingly! Can you please just forget about all of it—the contract, the bet—and look at the facts?”

Jungkook was begging at this point. Would you come to your senses?

“Do you really genuinely think that the past weeks- months didn’t mean anything to me? That it was really all just pretend? That I lied about all of it? That I’m really such a big asshole that I’d pretend to be in love with you this entire time, call you daily, buy you your favourite cookies, hold your hand and kiss you and tell you—” This seemed to drain Jungkook of everything, voice trembling as he presented the worst version of himself to you. “—over and over again that I love you?”

He leaned forward, searched for your eyes.

It was right in front of you—a white flag up in the air, for you to grab and hiss. You could do it now, he’d forgive you, you were certain of that. Jungkook was still kind enough to do so, his heart ready to let you back in. You wouldn’t even need to say anything, just falling into his arms would suffice. It’d be so easy. Simple, in fact. He’d let you do it, take your silent defeat as an apology. You’d never have to talk about it ever again. It was tempting, slip back into what you were before as if you weren’t aware that he and you were two parallel lines never meant to cross. Jungkook would never be tempted to take this way out, he’d stand straight for what he’d said, repent. The thought to take the easy way out would never cross his mind. It did yours.

“Y-yeah, I do.”

Jungkook shook his head, mouth set in a line.

“You don’t mean that-”

“Yes, I do-”

“Y/N, no, no, you-”

“Stop,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Stop insisting that I don’t mean it. I do. I-”

It was so ironic. It felt like the entire universe was mocking you, laughing at the two of you. This was what Jungkook had wished for him and you, imagined how beautiful it would be, how you’d sit together in front of the window and watch before he’d suggest to go outside and you’d follow happily. You’d dance and play until neither of you could feel your hands and your cheeks were rough and raw from the cold wind. You’d yearn for the warm, shiver as you stepped inside, but you’d be happy. So very happy. But now it felt like a stab to your hearts instead.

The first few snowflakes softly landed on your sleeve. It was so beautiful. The entire street would be white in a few hours, kids would come out to play soon.

“I’ll pay you back.” You took a step back, rubbed away the tears that wanted to spill. “See it as compensation for… not meeting your parents.”

Jungkook couldn’t respond, teeth sinking into his tongue, biting on the muscle until it hurt too much.

“That’s not- that’s not the point. I don’t care for the money, I just-” He deflated. “Just-just meet them, Y/N. Give them a chance, please. You’ll realise- they’re gonna love-”

He stopped when you shrunk in on yourself, vehemently shaking your head. Neither of you said anything, just allowing the snow to fall around you and cover you in white. You’d be shivering in just a few minutes, hair and skin wet, feet shaky on the cold ground.

Jungkook looked down, hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped.

“Okay.”

You stood there as you waited for him to turn his back to you and walk away, waited and waited to be finally alone. He’d do it and you’d be alone and you’d be proven right, vindicated. Relief would flood you, knowing you had seen it coming, had always known correctly, protected you, at least, this time of hurt and-

The keys looked cold to the touch.

“Take them. Wait in the car. Call Chae or whoever to come pick you up. You can leave the keys in the car. I’ll get them later.”

Jungkook was ordering you, telling you what to do. And though he spoke with finality, allowing no room for you to disagree, his voice trembled and shook. You didn’t have to look to know the tears staining his cheeks, to know how much you had hurt him, realise that in your quest to do the best for both him and you because he deserved better and not be hurt and left in the end, you had done just that to Jungkook, plunged the knife into his heart and pushed it further even as he spat out blood.

“It’s fine, I can-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before Jungkook grabbed your hand and placed the keys into your palm, forcing your fingers shut around them with his own. His touch sent sparks through your body. It’d be the last time he’d ever touch you, you realised, and before you could stop it, the tears spilt. But you didn’t let out a noise, kept your head low and eyes even lower.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

Jungkook hesitated before letting go, his feet dragging as he walked away.

Maybe it was you holding the gun, not Jungkook.

→ thanks for reading !! if you have any thoughts, id love to hear it!

#jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #bts scenarios #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook implied smut #bts x reader

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poppedbubblgum · 9 months

Text

I’ve had this au in my brain for months now and only recently drew for it so I’m here to add to the pile of rise aus haha

It’s the standard separated au but my version B) - Donnie grew up with Splinter, Leo stayed with Draxum, Raph ended up at the battle nexus and Mikey was left to roam the streets of the Hidden City.

More info under the cut-

Donnie: The most mentally stable of the brothers somehow. He was raised in the sewers with splinter, and even though he did receive care, splinter still couldn’t really provide much in terms of affection. Despite that they still love each other, even if distantly. He’s chronically online. He knows every vine ever and plays fps games a lot yes I made him a gamer. He and April are extremely close in this au, having met at a young age and April being the closest thing Donnie has to a sibling until finding his brothers. Splinter also refuses to tell Donnie anything to do with mutants/yokai, or even where they came from, much to Donnie’s dismay. Without his brothers and their antics, he doesn’t get out much, and hasn’t made a battle/protective shell for himself yet.

April: She and Donnie met in early childhood and were practically inseparable, them both being only children, and they basically became each other’s annoying sibling. She’s the only reason Donnie came out of his shell (heh) and she likes to take him onto the surface streets for shenanigans.

Leo: Huguinn pulled Leo from the wreckage of Draxum’s lab and was raised in the rebuilt lab. Draxum genuinely didn’t expect the turtles to come out as literal infants after mutation so it’s a miracle Leo even survived this long lol. (Huguinn and Muninn did most of the work tbh) Draxum considers Leo to be a biproduct/fragment of a failed experiment and uses Leo more as an errand boy than anything else. Because of that Leo’s and Draxum’s relationship is also distant. Leo acts nonchalant and sarcastic for the most part, but he can’t help but want to please Draxum. Leo knows about his brothers and even tried looking for them early on, but eventually gave up. He and Donnie meet first. Also he sneaks out to get pizza at Hueso’s when he’s bored.

Raph: His and Mikey’s stories start out intertwined. They both ended up in the hidden city and lived out the early years of their lives there. When he was around 7 years old, Mikey being 5, Raph was taken as a contestant for a battle royale at the nexus, composed entirely of young yokai. (The battle nexus is quite literally a gladiator ring where contestants kill one another) Raph was taken due to his large size, and after managing to survive the battle royale, Big Mama allowed him to stay and become a fully fledged fighter at the nexus. He moved his way up in rank and became one of the top Nexus champions under the stage name, The Beast. He’s soft spoken and quick to anger at first, having received so little friendly interactions.

Mikey: He and Raph lived in the hidden city together until Raph was taken when he was around 5 years old. After that he was basically left to fend for himself. He survived via stealing and living on rooftops and alleys Aladdin style. He’s incredibly agile and a master pickpocket. He even made a name for himself in the district where he lives as the local thief. This, however, hasn’t dampened his spirits at all and he’s just as bright and bubbly as ever. He loves anything and everything to do with art and often does graffiti wherever he can. He’s an avid battle nexus fan and watches the battles whenever he can ( Leo is also a huge fan).

I’ve legitimately had this au in my head for months and this isn’t even close to everything I’ve conjured up but I had to make something for it or else I’d explode. Despite there being a lot of room for angst in this au, I imagine it as more lighthearted and similar to the show in terms of comedy. If you read this far congrats and give me your strength please

#rottmnt #my art #rottmnt au #rottmnt separated au #possibly: rottmnt but I make Donnie the stable one #spoiler alert he’s really not #broken hearts au

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fluentmoviequoter · 4 months

Text

A Room Away

Requested Here!

Edit: Part 2 Here

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: Tired of Tim's bad moods, Angela gets him a new roommate: you. As Tim gets to know you and learns about your past, you slowly become more than his roommate.

Warnings: mentions of past domestic abuse (reader and Tim), reader has chronic migraines from past head trauma, nightmares, reader has a panic attack, angst, fluff, Nyla and Angela. (roommates to lovers)

Word Count: 4.2k+ words

A/N: Parts of this are so self-indulgent. The migraine depictions are based on my migraines, but I think they're some of the most common symptoms. I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think! (I'm still trying to get Tim's character down, so apologies if he's OOC.)🤍

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest

Tim sits in the back of the room for roll call, his arms crossed tightly across his chest as unimpressed sighs escape him. Angela is getting tired of his seemingly perpetual bad mood. Clearly, he’s lonely, but he will never admit it. And that loneliness makes him mopey and broody (Angela’s official motto for Tim Bradford) until he has enough and snaps at someone.

Sitting at her desk, Angela watches Tim yell at a boot. He’s always harsh with them, trying to prepare them for anything, but now he’s using them as punching bags for his forbidden feelings.

“What’s his problem? He’s grumpier than usual,” Nyla says as she joins Angela.

“He’s lonely,” Angela answers. “Won’t admit it or do anything about it.”

“That man needs a girlfriend,” Nyla muses.

Angela sits up straighter and smiles. “You’re a genius, Harper.”

“I know.”

Angela opens a website on her computer, and Nyla pulls up a seat to watch her intervention into Tim’s personal life.

“You’re going to rent out his spare room without telling him? This’ll be fun to watch,” Nyla says, laughing.

“He has way too much room for just one guy. Getting him a roommate and a girlfriend will surely help with.. that,” she finishes, gesturing toward Tim.

“A roommate and a girlfriend, or a roommate who becomes a girlfriend?”

“Either should work.”

“That’s your number.”

Angela nods, putting her contact information on the listing. “Tim would shut it down after the first call, so I’ll interview them, run background checks, whatever, and find the perfect one.”

“Well, Mrs. Right is always found on Craigslist,” Nyla jokes.

“This isn’t Craigslist.”

“Semantics.”

Angela posts the listing, and she and Nyla hope getting Tim a roommate will help nudge him out of his bad mood. He needs someone to talk to and bond with, but he’ll never come to that conclusion on his own. Which is why Angela considers herself to be such a good friend.

✯✯✯✯✯

Los Angeles is a big city, which is part of why you chose it without another thought. Full of opportunities and a chance of fading into the background, it’s the complete opposite of your home, which overflows with memories. The patched drywall you were pushed into, the stained tile where you thought everything was going to end, and the china cabinet with the shattered glass are left behind and traded in for a minimum wage job, a used car, and a lot of panic that you won’t be able to find somewhere to live.

You’ll need a roommate until you can save enough money for your own place. However, finding a decent place with a decent roommate is nearly impossible in your price range. Browsing online listings, you see one that could be promising. The information at the bottom says there is an interview process, which catches your attention. Sending a text to Angela Lopez, you cross your fingers for good luck before walking into work.

By the end of your shift, Angela has replied and asked you to meet somewhere nearby. You want to go home, a dull headache building at the base of your skull impairing your mood. But you also really want a better place to call home than the pay-by-the-month motel you’re currently living in.

Angela gives you a firm handshake as she introduces herself as an LAPD detective. She asks questions about your life, job, hobbies, and finally, why you moved to Los Angeles.

“I just needed a change of pace; was ready to leave my old life behind, find something bigger and better,” you answer, a simplified version of the truth.

Trying not to show it, Angela immediately takes a liking to you. Each of your answers solidifies her gut instinct that you’re a good fit for Tim. You ask why her name was on this listing if it’s not her house, and she follows your lead and gives you the truth, but not all of it.

“Tim, the owner of the house, is a coworker and friend, and I’m just trying to help him out while he’s busy with work,” she explains.

As you leave the meeting, Angela gives you her personal number, as well as someone named Nyla Harper’s number, “just in case you need anything.”

She texts you a time and address, telling you to meet her at your new place the following afternoon. You thank her repeatedly before driving to the trashy motel one last time.

✯✯✯✯✯

Parking outside the house, you fall in love with the neighborhood and the cute architecture of the home. Angela meets you in the driveway, seeming more nervous than excited. You realize she may not have been totally honest with you as you follow her to the door.

An incredibly handsome man opens the door, sighing when he sees Angela. He lets both of you in, seeming to trust Angela completely.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim knows he will regret opening the door, but the woman with Angela is beautiful, and deep down, a small part of him wants to know who she is and why she’s on his doorstep.

“This is your new roommate,” Angela announces, giving Tim your name.

“You didn’t,” Tim responds. “Please tell me you didn’t rent out my spare room without asking me, Lopez.”

“I won’t tell you that, then.”

Standing quietly to the side, you anxiously watch their argument.

“Um, sorry,” you begin, interrupting them. “But I can go, and find a new place, since this is clearly not what you signed up for.”

You move toward the door before stopping when Angela demands, “Don’t go anywhere.”

She gives Tim a stern look before cocking her head to the side. He sighs like he has accepted his fate, a tragedy based on his reaction. Gesturing for you to follow him, he gives you a quick tour before showing you to your new room and bathroom.

“I’m not home a ton, but when I am, I’m usually watching a game or just hanging out, so,” he tells you before trailing off.

You nod before promising, “You won’t even know I’m here.”

Tim wants to believe you, but he also thinks you’re pretty and kind enough that he wouldn’t mind seeing you occasionally.

✯✯✯✯✯

You cross paths with Tim a few times in the first two days of living with him. He’s struck by your beauty each time but recognizes that you don’t open up willingly, so he never presses you to talk. Content to be ships passing in the night, Tim gives you a nod before continuing out the door.

It’s your third night in the house that Tim learns your reserved qualities may not be as simple as a personality trait. Waking when he hears a strange noise, Tim listens in the darkness before deciding it’s your footsteps he hears. Based on the sound, you're pacing, so Tim gets out of bed and walks to the kitchen. He walks right past you, and you give him an apologetic smile before slowing down. Tim makes you a mug of calming tea, sliding it across the kitchen island before sitting beside you as you drink it. Suspecting you had a nightmare or some similarly disturbing experience, Tim reminds you where you are and that everything is okay in his own way.

Over the next week, you wake him up a few more times, thrashing in your bed or exiting your room once you wake. He nudges each time, offering to let you talk about it, but you never do. You always apologize for waking him, thank him for keeping you company and making you tea before you disappear back into yourself and into your room.

✯✯✯✯✯

You’ve lost count of the days and nights spent in Tim’s house, your sense of time thrown off by the continued plague of nightmares and the monotony of your days. As you wake up after a surprisingly dreamless sleep, you immediately turn your face back into the pillow. Your heartbeat pounds in your head, and everything seems brighter and louder. The migraines have been nearly as consistent as the nightmares since before you left for Los Angeles.

Tim knocks on your door, and you groan as the sound echoes in your brain. He cracks the door, concerned that you aren’t up yet.

“Are you okay?” he asks, seeing your current state.

“Migraine,” you answer. “I called in sick.”

He closes the door to block the light from outside and lowers his voice to ask, “Do you need anything before I leave?”

“I’m okay. Thanks.”

“Well, call me if you do, or if anything changes, okay?”

“I will. Thank you, Tim. Have a good day.”

Tim nods, even though you can’t see him, before backing out of your room and exiting the house as quietly as possible. He keeps his ringer on, looking at his phone every few minutes as his concern for you remains at the forefront of his mind.

Angela and Nyla notice his usual grumpy disposition seems to have been replaced with concern for something, or someone. After he checks his phone for the fifth consecutive time, Angela decides to pry.

“How’s the beautiful roomie? Still just a roommate?” she asks.

“She’s not feeling well,” Tim answers.

Angela waits for an elaboration, but Tim doesn’t offer one. She looks at Nyla, who gives a knowing look. It’s obvious that Tim is softening toward you, but you haven’t made enough of an impact that he’s less grumpy or snappy. As the day continues, his usual personality returns, convinced that you must be okay, or you would have called.

The next day, after learning that you are, in fact, feeling better, Tim is back to his pre-roommate levels of anger and high strung-ness. To worsen his mood, you wake him up with a nightmare but refuse to let him in, not even acknowledging his kind questioning as to how you are. He’s worried about you because you welcomed his presence before, but he is also angry that you changed so quickly, and now you don’t trust him. Everything is piling on, and Tim isn’t sure how much more he can carry.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Just tell me something,” Angela presses.

“Stay out of it, Lopez!” Tim yells, his emotions reaching a boiling point. “I didn’t even want a puppy- a roommate! If you like her so much, why don’t you take her in?”

Angela waits for his shoulders to drop slightly before asking, “Timothy… is this because you don’t like her, or because you do?”

Tim’s jaw clenches, and his nostrils flare as he turns away, offering to go on patrol while Nolan and Celina go to the shooting range. Everyone seems to think they know Tim better than they do; Angela is pushing him toward you while you’re distancing yourself, and the push and pull is tiring.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim waits in his truck in the driveway for a few minutes before walking in. When he walks in, you’re standing in the kitchen. He hasn’t actually seen you since the day of your last migraine when you stopped trusting him, and your sudden willingness to be in the same area confuses him. Anger and confusion rarely mix well; with Tim, it’s a fatal combination.

You notice his tension and knitted brows, chewing your bottom lip before asking, “Are you okay?”

Stumbling to his tipping point for the second time in the day, Tim takes all his anger and confusion over his feelings out on you.

“What do you think? You can’t decide if I’m worth trusting with something as small as a nightmare, and Angela thinks that I’m practically neglecting you,” he begins.

You swallow harshly as his voice rises, stumbling backward when he starts moving his arms.

“Especially considering I didn’t even want you here!”

Flinching, you snap your eyes closed and catch yourself on the corner of the wall. Tim freezes as he watches you. Everything begins snapping into place in his mind: your nightmares and the distance added to your reaction to him yelling and moving his hand are all signs he should have noticed sooner.

Your chest is heaving as you take short breaths, and when you finally open your eyes, you look terrified. Tim steps back, keeping his hands where you can see them. You focus on him as you slide down the wall, cradling your head in your hands as you fight off bad memories and a growing headache.

Tim watches you before sitting on the floor, keeping his distance. He waits for you to calm down, willing to let you decide whether or not you want to talk to him. You finally look back up at him, but he doesn’t move.

“I- I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“Can I come closer?” Tim asks.

You nod, and Tim slides across the floor, not wanting to stand up and look any more imposing than necessary. His knee presses gently against your thigh, and when you don’t move, he gives you a small smile – the first you’ve ever seen.

“I’ll leave in the morning,” you say, fiddling with your fingers.

“Please don’t,” Tim replies, shaking his head. “I’m really sorry. I wasn’t mad at you, just angry with a long day. But that’s no reason to yell at you or act like that. You confused me, and I didn’t know how to deal with it. That’s on me.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat.

“Don’t. When I was younger, my dad took his anger out on me sometimes. I’m sure I deserved it once or twice, but I also know better than to treat people like an emotional outlet. If you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

You nod before saying, “My ex.”

Tim feels a protective surge at the idea of anyone hurting you, let alone doing it enough times that yelling pushes you to the point of a panic attack.

After comforting you with proximity and kind words, Tim offers to walk you to bed. Your hand brushes his as he opens your door, and you smile as you thank him for everything. It’s a minor change in your relationship but an important one.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim leaves before you wake up the following morning, determined to find out as much as he can about you and your past. He’s not necessarily being nosy, but he wants to know if there’s anything specific that could help or hurt you.

“What do you know?” he demands as he storms up to Angela’s desk.

“About what?” she replies, raising her brows.

“What do you mean ‘about what’? Her!”

Nyla leans back in her chair, glad to watch the unfolding drama.

“Tim, I don’t know what you’re talking about,�� Angela explains.

“Why’d she move to LA?”

“Are you seriously trying to find something wrong with her? That’s low.”

Tim moves around her desk, dropping his voice to answer, “I’m trying to figure out who thought it was okay to put their hands on her. Because she won’t let me in.”

Angela begins connecting the dots you left untouched. You ran from the person controlling your life, not your actual life. She knew that you were omitting something during your initial meeting, but she didn’t expect it to be so big.

“Have you been open with her?” Angela asks finally. “Because that’s a two-way street. I’ll talk to her if you want me to, but she trusts you, Tim.”

“How do you know that?”

Nyla’s eyes bounce back and forth like she’s watching a tennis game. She sighs before deciding to interject. “She told her! Sent her a text one night!” she calls out, smiling and waving when Angela and Tim look at her.

Tim nods, giving Angela the closest she’ll get to an apologetic look before leaving.

✯✯✯✯✯

Returning home, Tim is surprised to find you on the couch, in your work clothes, with your face pressed into a pillow. You wave your fingers without moving to acknowledge him, and he remains silent as he walks to the kitchen.

“You don’t have to be silent, it’s your house,” you mumble. “I’ll figure out a way to get to the bedroom.”

“You’re fine here,” Tim answers, setting a glass of water beside you. “Another migraine?”

“Skull fractured from getting my head pushed through a window a few months ago,” you explain with a sigh. “The migraines have gotten worse since then.”

Tim lays a hand on your shoulder, giving you plenty of time to tell him not to touch you. You don’t, relaxing under his touch instead. Tim takes a seat beside you, hoping to comfort you once more.

“Your ex?” Tim asks.

You hum a yes, and Tim’s jaw tightens, even as he comforts you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Walking into the police station, Tim’s wallet is tucked safely in your bag. Approaching the front desk, you say your name and are wordlessly handed a visitor’s badge before someone gives you directions. You don’t have time to argue, shrugging as you attempt to remember where to turn. Angela sees you before you see her, rushing to your side and looping her arm with yours.

“What are you doing here?” she asks happily.

“Uh, Tim forgot his wallet. I was just going to drop it off, but they sent me back here,” you answer.

Tim says your name, coming around a corner, and Angela pushes you toward him, joining Nyla as they watch your interaction.

“You know she was trying to get you a girlfriend and not just a roommate, right?”

Tim nods a thanks as he accepts his wallet, glancing over at your audience. “I’m half-tempted to make them think I kicked you out.”

You smile brightly, and Tim licks his lips to keep his smile from mirroring yours. His eyes tell you more than enough, and you’re happy to see him, too.

“Do it,” you whisper. “Just let me know when so I can play my part. Angela told me to call her if you were ever mean to me.”

“Have you?”

You don’t answer, opting to wink at him before stepping back. Waving at Angela and Nyla, you leave the station as they rush to Tim’s side. As they ask overlapping questions and talk about how cute you and Tim look standing together, Tim ignores them before walking away.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim is pulled from his sleep by your panicked yell. He leaves his bed and barges into your room with no thought. His heart rate slows when he sees your teary face and tangled sheets.

“Sorry,” you mutter as you wipe your tears. “I just don’t know how to make them stop.”

Tim sits beside you, opening an arm toward you. It’s a bold move, especially for him, but you take his offer and curl into his side.

“Are- did you mean it when you said I could talk about it?” you ask.

Tim nods, and you tell him more, but not everything. You remind yourself that he’s your roommate and maybe, just maybe, he's your friend, but he’s not here to listen to all of your baggage.

“The last thing he said before I left was, ‘there is nowhere you can go that my love won’t lead me to find you.’”

“You know that wasn’t love,” Tim replies, waiting for your nod before continuing. “And I’ve got your back, Angela and Nyla are right here, and we won’t let anything happen to you. No matter what.”

Drifting back to sleep in his warm, safe embrace, you finally learn what it’s like not to be scared.

When you wake alone, neither you nor Tim acknowledge what happened. You’re okay with slow changes, as long as there are changes.

“Tim,” you say, interrupting him on his way out. “Thank you. For last night.”

“I’m only ever a call away,” he reminds you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your head starts aching around noon, quickly worsening into a full-blown migraine. When you’re ready to go home, it’s bad enough that you can’t drive. Sitting in your car and resting your head against the steering wheel, you want to call Tim but can’t find the strength to move.

Tim, meanwhile, returns home and begins wondering where you are. He calls, and you don’t answer, so he lets his worry control him as he gets back in his truck and drives your usual route. Tim hopes to pass you or find you waiting as someone changes your tire. When he gets to the parking lot of your job and sees you slumped in your car, he has to fight not to panic.

Rushing to the door, he’s both grateful and concerned that it’s unlocked. He kneels beside you, saying your name before bending to see you. Your eyes are tightly closed, but tears are still leaking out.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says.

You whimper as he picks you up, clinging to him until he lays you down in the backseat of his truck, buckling you in as well as possible.

“Hospital can’t help,” you mumble.

Tim wants to argue, but remembers what you said about the skull fracture. You’ve already been to the doctor, so maybe getting you home and comfortable will be enough.

After a nap partially influenced by unbearable pain, you wake to see Tim sitting by your bed.

“Why are you so nice to me? You didn’t even want a roommate,” you mutter sleepily.

Tim smiles, making you think you’re hallucinating. “Yet I got something better.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You don’t quite make it to work the next day. Walking into the station, you’re surprised when Nyla greets you first.

“I’m assuming it’s a joke,” she says.

You furrow your brows in confusion before you see Tim leaning on a desk with his arms crossed while Angela yells at him.

“Unless he really kicked you out,” Nyla adds.

You nod, walking towards Angela and Tim.

“No, you don’t get to blame me! I got you a roommate, a friend, a beautiful woman who could have been more than a friend, and you’re mad at me?” Angela exclaims.

Tim locks eyes with you, not changing his expression as he gauges whether or not her yelling is upsetting you.

“Can I talk to you?” you ask Tim.

Angela steps back, hoping to hear Tim apologize, but he stands up and gestures for you to follow him without speaking. Worried that you’re sick again, Tim waits silently.

“I’m okay,” you promise. “I just wanted to see you.”

Not believing something so simple, Tim shakes his head. “Tell me what happened.”

“I saw a guy who looked like him while I was driving to work. He was yelling at a girl outside of a diner, and it made me nervous.” You keep your eyes on the floor, but Tim gently raises your head.

“You’re not alone, and I know that things still seem uncertain, and probably will for a long time, but you don’t have to be afraid of anything while I’m here.”

“Then why’d you kick me out?” you tease with a pout.

Tim shakes his head, telling you to go before following you out. You wipe an imaginary tear before waving at Angela.

“No, you’re not leaving,” she says, grabbing your shoulders and steering you toward her desk.

Nyla smiles at Tim, and he sighs before following.

“Tell me exactly what happened between you two,” Angela commands.

You look past her before tensing, and Tim immediately catches on. He follows your line of vision and sees Nolan and Celina booking someone. You shrink in on yourself, and Tim moves to block your view.

“Get her out of here,” he tells Angela.

Angela doesn’t wait before obeying, ushering you into the bullpen and out of sight.

“What’s the charge?” Tim asks Celina.

“Assault. Beat up a woman outside a diner,” she answers.

Tim’s jaw tightens at the knowledge that this man made you nervous this morning, reminding you of your ex. He hates abuse in every situation, but when you’re involved, his protectiveness and anger differ. Tim leaves before saying or doing something he’ll regret.

When he finds you in the bullpen, he takes one look at you before hugging you. It’s quick, but Angela and Nyla look at each other in shock.

“So, you’re good?” Nyla asks.

“We were never bad,” you reply. “Just wanted to get back at Angela for trying to set us up.”

“It worked?” Angela inquires excitedly.

“Not yet.”

“Not yet?” Tim repeats, looking over at you. He shrugs as he concedes, “Okay.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When Tim gets home, he drops his stuff by the door, raising his arms in question as he looks at you. “Not yet? What is that supposed to mean?”

“You haven’t made a move. How do I know you’re not just protective and caring under that handsome, gruff exterior?” you ask with a shrug.

Tim shakes his head, cupping the back of your head gently as he kisses you. You raise your hands over his chest to hold his jaw, pushing yourself closer as you reciprocate his every move.

“Because I don’t protect just anyone like this,” he says against your lips.

You kiss him again before asking, “Does this mean you can reduce my rent?”

Tim rolls his eyes, tucking you against his side where you’re safe from everything and everyone.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie #requests

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 18 days

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Would I be the asshole if I refused to pay my phone bill?

📱🧾♿️ <- To recognize my post for later :)

The title is probably already a bit of a red flag, but I genuinely didn’t know how else to word it…

For context: I am a disabled, chronically and mentally ill trans guy who recently turned 20. I haven’t left home yet for a lot of reasons, some being that my parents promised to let me live rent-free so long as I was in college (which I am, just not currently for the summer) as well as the fact that they really haven’t raised me to be very independent and rely solely on them (which is honestly a whole other can of worms), but primarily because of my disability. It isn’t safe for me to live on my own, as I faint commonly, cannot stand up for more than maybe fifteen minutes at a time roughly, and sometimes am unable to eat for long periods of time due to debilitating nausea which leads to weakness. I also have severe chronic pain in my limbs and gut, something I’ve had most of my life, while my chronic illness I’ve only had for about a year and a half now and am still struggling to adjust to.

Because of my disability, I also can’t work a traditional job. I offer art commissions online, because I’m very passionate about art and it’s one of the few things I’m good at, and I haul in a decent amount, but certainly not enough to live off of. I make enough to set aside some good savings (I’m currently saving for a wheelchair, as that might grant me more freedom and the potential to get a job at least for the summer) while also indulging myself in buying the occasional fatty treat (I’m very underweight so that’s not an issue, and I was raised essentially in an almond mom household all my life, so this form of eating is really the only sense of control I have over my life, as I’m fully dependent on my parents elsewise).

The issue has come upon relatively recently. I feel like a huge entitled brat for it as well, and if others believe the same, I sincerely don’t blame you.

My mom sat me down the other day and said that she expected me to start paying at least one bill. She offered my cheapest bill (which would be for my phone; my parents bought it, and it’s theirs, they’re just letting me use it as my own.. I don’t own a whole lot of “my” items myself) and asked what I thought about that. I was fully honest with her: if I had a steady stream of income, I wouldn’t hesitate to offer to pay for all of my bills, but with the way it stands, I just don’t make enough month-to-month to regularly afford the bill. I also do my commissions through my phone, so if I could afford the bill, my phone would be turned off, and I’d be unable to continue.

My mom got very upset and started talking to me like a child (though she really has every right to, honestly, and I know that). She went on a very long rant about teaching me responsibility, and how I can’t rely on my parents forever, and that I need to grow up at some point… All things that I fully agree with. I sincerely want to! I want nothing more than to be fully independent. But the way it stands, my parents cover my entire medical bills and they pay for my meds… And I just don’t make enough to survive on my own, and I can just barely afford a meal or two from a sandwich shop I enjoy twice a month to keep my sanity in check because I’m usually bedbound.

I tried explaining to her that I would if I could, sincerely, and that I’m not trying to be a leech or lazy, but she wasn’t having it. She just scolded me and said that if I can afford to eat out every month, then I can afford the phone bill. But again, with the way things are, I don’t think I’d be able to do it every month without tapping into my savings, which again, is for my wheelchair so I can regain some sense of freedom for myself. I’m seriously debating just telling her no straight out, but I don’t know what the aftermath might look like…

So, sincerely: Am I in the wrong here? Should I just swallow my protests and cough up the money somehow? I really don’t know and would love an outside perspective.

#aita #am i the asshole

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 19 days

Text

the girl next door 20

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

Not long after you close yourself in your room you hear the front door close. The house is silent but not calm. While you want everything to just go back the way it was, being alone with your mom doesn’t promise you peace. She never takes it well when she doesn’t get her way.

You have your table pulled up the bed, doodling random petals and stems, some connected and some not. The sunlight beams through the curtains and shines onto the paper as you scratch the graphite over it. You cup your chin as you bide your time, dreading the inevitable. You’ll have to face her again and you have a lot to atone for.

The rustle of leaves is underlined by the darting whistle of some distant bird. Along the edge of your vision, you sense movement and peer over at the window, expecting a flutter of wings. Instead, you see a shadow looming in Steve’s window, just across the gap between your houses. You don’t recognise that man; it must be the friend he mentioned.

You slide the table out and stand slowly, cautious as you try not to draw attention. The man has grey hair like Steve, he’s a little shorter by your measure, and built a bit broader. He turns to lean just beside the window and you carefully tug closed your curtain. You keep forgetting to do that although you can’t even remember opening it most times.

The noise of your movement draws your name from the front room. You huff and face the door. It’s time. You emerge and go to find your mother on her recliner. She stares despondently at the ceiling.

“Whatever you said to Steve...” she mutters.

“I didn’t...” you can’t even finish the lie. You didn’t say anything but you also don’t know everything you did around Steve.

“I don’t want to hear it. You reel it in,” she sits the chair up straight and winces at the jarring motion. “Whatever you’re up to, it stops now.”

You look at the floor, “sorry, mom.”

“Ugh, you’re useless, you know that? If you hadn’t been hanging around like some troll, he would’ve stayed,” she snarls. "If you weren't here, everything would be so much better."

“Mm, but I saw... his friend--”

“Oh, shut up and go away,” she snaps and reclines again. “Tomorrow, he’s taking me out. Away from you. You can stay and clean up your mess.”

You back away without another word. She’s only looking to argue. It will be good for her to get out. Somewhere that isn’t a hospital. And she’s right, this place could use another clean, and you could use the distraction.

🏡

As promised, your mother leaves with Steve. That she’s ready to leave the house before noon is a feat on its own, not to mention how she woke up before you. Still, you made her coffee for her and reminded her about her medicine. Those parts went as usual.

Alone, you feel lighter but not free. You sweep and mop and make sure all the dishes are done and away. You even make sure to use the old vacuum to clean up your mom’s recliners and the carpet in the front room. A spritz of freshener makes the air a little less stale.

You finish around one and go back to your room. You take out your pencils and set to work on a new picture. No more amaryllis; you’ve moved on to morning glories. It’s so beautiful how they open with the sun.

You use your colour pencils, some of them so short you can’t even sharpen them, to give dimension the broad petals. You lose yourself in the task, fingertips a medley of hues as you switch between shades and blending stick. You have your forehead in your hand, your shoulders hunched, and your eyes laser focused.

It’s only your name that breaks your reverie. You blink and sit up, the ache setting into your knuckles as they have a moment to rest. You door is open.

“Hey, sweetie,” Steve says, “we’re back.”

“Oh,” is all you can utter.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he has a hand on his hip. You wonder if he’s been there a while. “Not to intrude but... could I get a peek?”

You stare at him for a moment, confused. Then look down at the page. It’s mostly done, you guess. Doesn’t matter, really. There’s worse things to judge you about.

You set down the pencil and lift the book. He breaks the threshold of your room and crosses to look closer. He carefully puts his hand next to yours, silently asking permission to take it. You hand it over and he raises it closer to squint at the lines.

“This is beautiful,” he remarks, “you should think about my offer. We could go out and find some good scenery,” He suggests as he continues to examine your work, “and you shouldn’t be all bent over like that. You can always use my studio if you need--”

“I’m fine,” you shrug.

“For now, but one day that’s catch up to you. Trust me,” she offers the book back to you. “So... do you only draw flowers?”

You close the book and pack away the pencils.

“Mostly,” you answer.

“Wow, to be honest, I always found them challenging. No two flowers are alike, right? Every rose has different petals, every tulip a different number of stamens,” he says. “So how was your day?”

“Is my mom here?” You asks, ignoring his question.

“Yeah, she’s all tired out. She’s relaxing. Still early though,” he checks his watch, “you wanna come over for a swim?”

You’re flumoxed by the pace of his conversation. The constant pivoting has you off-balance. You’re wholly unready for any of it. Those hours alone have left you in an odd daze.

“Thanks, but uh, I don’t have a suit,” you say.

“You don’t?” He clucks, “well that’s too bad. You could just wear some shorts and tank or whatever. No one around to see.”

“It’s okay,” you rebuff again. “I’m still pretty tired.”

“Oh, of course, sweetie, maybe another time. Did you take another pill? I know they really get to you.”

“Erm, no.”

“You’re going to, right? You need to be consistent, you know? To see if it works.”

“Right, I know,” you murmur guiltily. You’d forgotten all about the boxes in the cupboard.

“Now, I’m only looking out for you. I mean, you take care of your mother, make sure she takes her meds, but what about you? Who’s looking after you, sweetheart?”

You hug yourself and stand. You untangle your arms from around you and push the table back to the corner. He might mean well but you’re just embarrassed. No one does care about you and you’re okay with that. You have to be, you can’t change it.

“It was rhetorical,” he says, “sweetie, I’m going to look after you. I promise.” He’s pauses as if waiting for an answer, “haven’t I?”

“Hmm,” you turn to him and push out your lower lip.

“Haven’t I taken care of you?” He asks.

You nod, “yes. Thank you...”

“You and your mom, right? That’s how it’s gonna be. The three of us.”

What he’s saying, the way he’s saying it, it’s making you uneasy. You tuck your lip under your teeth and let it pop back out. He tilts his head as his eye flicker eerily.

“Well, I’m going to stay the night to keep an eye on mom. She’s having a bad day. She did a lot so... I’ll get started on dinner and you take your medicine, okay?”

Your heart pounds in your ribcage. There’s something about his tone. He’s not asking, he’s telling. You look at him in your doorway, noting how he fills the whole thing. Thinking of how you couldn’t get past him or move him, even if you had the courage to try. You reach over to steady yourself with the table.

“Sure,” you agree softly.

“You’re not busy tomorrow?” He wonders.

You blink and shake your head, “n... no?”

“Good, we have a surprise for you,” he grins. “Big one.”

“Al--alright,” you resist as shiver.

“You should dress up nice, too. Maybe that cute little dress you got,” he taps on the doorframe and takes a step back, “I like that one.”

He winks and spins on his heel, leaving you in a queasy silence. A surprise? What could he possibly mean?

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #the girl next door #series #drabble #au #silverfox au #mcu #marvel #captain america

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livwritesstuff · 3 months

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I've had a consistent thought in my head of the girls learning more about the upside down.

Like they know a bit: uncle Dustin still lives in Hawkins doing research on something, they've seen their dads and they know about the scars and their disabilities. They know something happened to their entire family and they know there was an earthquake that wasn't really an earthquake. But they've never learned more than that and they'll never know the details as long as Steve and Eddie have a say.

But at some point, each of them realizes that the monster hunter jokes that their dads make aren't really jokes.

In general, I think Steve and Eddie’s sentiment surrounding how they address the not-so-pleasant aspects of their past with their daughters is that they won’t lie (because that’ll only come back to bite them in the ass later), but they’re also only going to tell them as much of the truth as they literally need to.

Not that Moe knows any of this.

All Moe really knows is that her dads went through some scary-ass shit when they were her age and they don’t really talk about it.

Still, Moe has eyes. Maybe she didn’t realize it when she was little, but even just the sheer amount of scar tissue her dads have isn’t exactly normal. When she asks where they got them, though, all they ever say is that a monster tried to eat them.

Moe also knows that the reason Pop doesn’t usually join them on shopping trips at the mall is because they can trigger bad migraines, and she knows the reason he gets migraines in the first place is that he’d taken too many hits to the head in too short a time, but when she asks how he’d gotten a concussion and then a TBI and then two more concussions in the span of four years he always just says something like picked a fight with the wrong Russian spy, or something like that.

And it’s public knowledge that Dad was accused of murder when he was in high school and nearly died before the charges got dropped, but when she asks about what happened, he gives her some spiel about curses and demons and portals to alternate dimensions and monsters (again, with the monsters).

They’re kidding, Moe knows. They’re giving obviously fake answers because…well, for a lot of reasons, she can imagine– not wanting to relive whatever actually happened, not wanting to put their own trauma onto Moe and her sisters.

Honestly, Moe doesn’t really even bother asking about it anymore because they clearly don’t want to talk about it, and if it really was that bad, she can’t even blame them. Besides, she’s pretty sure that dads are supposed to be total mysteries to their kids, so…whatever.

The story of what happened in Hawkins, Indiana starts to gain some public attention again while Moe is in high school – one of those true crime conspiracy theory-type stories people make Reddit threads and YouTube videos about, and apparently (because Moe has no interest, but Robbie likes that kind of stuff) Dad almost always comes up in them, Pop sometimes.

Around that time is when Moe’s dads start to get all kinds of media requests – not that Pop had any idea. He’s basically chronically offline, so no one is really able to track him down other than finding his work email on Psychology Today, but he’s got filters set up to send that shit to spam so he doesn’t even have to see it. Dad, on the other hand, is (supposedly) well-known for his books or whatever, so he doesn’t have the same kind of anonymity. He got all sorts of calls and emails from people wanting his first-hand account, but he always refused to participate, told them to lose his number and never contact him or his family ever again.

That’s the kind of thing that really rattled Pop – Moe didn’t like that. He’s kind of an immovable object in that way, so seeing him rattled just seemed wrong.

They’d even needed to threaten legal action against one online tabloid who just wouldn’t leave them alone – not that Moe is supposed to know about that, but she’d eavesdropped on a phone call between her dads and Uncle Dustin, who seems to exist as a central point in it all even if Moe doesn’t know why (maybe it has something to do with how her dads always complaining about how he still works for that lab, whatever that means).

“Are you ever gonna tell us what really happened?” Moe asks one day, when it’s just her and Pop in the car on their way home from a basketball tournament in Connecticut.

He sighed, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Hon, can I ask you to stop and consider that maybe we have been?”

And for her dad’s sake, she does, she makes herself run through the mental log of all the lore or whatever she’s unlocked over the years.

Monsters, Russian spies, superpowers, demon-animals, curses, portals to alternate realities, government corruption, evil scientists.

Bullshit, she’d always thought, but…her dad had never bullshitted her before. Why would he choose to start with this?

Moe looked back at him, some kind of question on the tip of her tongue even though she had no idea what to ask, and this time, Pop spared a glance back.

“I’m not telling you everything,” he warned her as he looked back at the highway stretching out endlessly ahead of them, and Moe tried to keep any signs of disappointment off her face, “But I’ll tell you some.”

#ooh Moe-POV how do we feel about this #steve isn’t rattled he’s gearing up to defend eddie to the grave again #moe just can’t tell the difference #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson

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amostnobleyandere · 3 months

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Yandere! Incel! Scaramouche x NB! Reader

This is an 18+ blog!!!! If you don’t like yandere content or are a minor, do not interact. thank you!

CW: Yandere content, stalking, creepy scaramouche, incel behavior, creepy behavior, toxic relationships, kidnapping, his friends encourage and enable his problematic behavior, brief fantasizing about a domestic husband/spouse dynamic, forced romantic relationship, non-consensual touching

*also just to be clear, this is loosely based off the term “incel,” his behavior is more like a creepy recluse if anything?? I just couldn’t think of a better word to use and I thought it fit okay. there’s no misogyny or extremely gross behavior involved, but he is creepy so just. keep that in mind. anyways, enjoy!

—————————

Incel! Scaramouche who doesn’t get out much not because he has bad social skills (he does but that’s not the point), but because he loathes the idea of big crowds and being around lots of people. Socializing with people is already irritating enough, since he’s the only one on this earth who seems to have braincells. Why go out when he’s got everything he needs at home?

Incel! Scaramouche who has more money than he knows what to do with from his (insanely) loaded and emotionally distant mother (who gives it to him because she doesn’t know how to show affection any other way). he spends it all on expensive gaming set ups, take-out, and new technology all while being up in his top floor penthouse with a horizon line view.

Incel! Scaramouche who has friends, they’re just all online (and just as fucked up as he is) who he talks to (yells at) through the microphone while gaming.

Incel! Scaramouche who meets you while doing something mudane. He sees you at a grocery store picking over vegetables one day. Ignores you. 30 minutes later, he proceeds to bump into you and then acts like an asshole about you touching him, something that was clearly his fault. The two of you get into it, and eventually you’re the one to turn and walk away, already in a bad mood from the interaction. He’s interested now.

Incel! Scaramouche who isn’t delusional enough to convince himself that it’s fate, but who is curious enough to stalk follow you around for a while. He’s not hurting you or talking to you, what’s the harm done?

Incel! Scaramouche who while stalking monitoring you begins to note things about you. Unconsciously, of course. It’s not like his life revolves around you or anything. He just…starts to notice things. How you spend your days, what you like, what you don’t like, who you interact with and the places that you spend your time at the most. Soon enough he knows just as much about you habits and daily life as your friends do, if not more.

Incel! Scaramouche whos friends encourage his problematic behavior. They’re just as chronically online as he is, and have no conception of the morals and boundaries that come with having a healthy relationship. (Some of them, like Venti and Kazuha, even have a more romantic view of his infatuation interest, repeating that it’s okay to cross some lines, as long as it’s for love)

Incel! Scaramouche who has a weird view of relationships because his only knowledge on them comes from anime, the internet, and all the other types of weird media he consumes. (Should the kidnapping happen before or after your first date?) He’s not doing any of the cheesy shit the internet says. He’s not going to bring flowers, that would be stupid. (He’ll end up buying an overly large bouquet which he sends to your doorstep. there’s no note and you find it extremely creepy. You refuse to leave your home without pepper spray now)

Incel! Scaramouche who eventually just plucks you from the streets, right outside of your home/apartment building. No struggle to go along with it. Obviously you do fight back, but the men he hired to pick you up are far too experienced for you to even have a chance of running away.

Incel! Scaramouche who doesn’t really care about your feelings surrounding the whole situation. and well. he was getting a little lonely. most of his friends live too far away for them to meet up frequently, and it’s not like he’d want to see those crazy bastards everyday anyways. You’re much better company compared to those psychos, as much as he loathes to admit it. and you’re just so…pretty, and he can feel and touch you as much as he wants. it’s pleasant, and his apartment has never felt so full before, not at all empty like it did before he brought you here. you should be grateful you’re here too; he gives you everything you could ever want (within reason). really, you should feel grateful that you’ve been chosen by someone who’s so financially stable, who can provide for you.

you can have a good life with him, better than you could’ve had without him.

Incel! Scaramouche who kind of begins to see you as his little house spouse. nevermind that you’re here against your will; you’ve taken up doing chores around the house if only to fill the time, and it’s really only confirming his belief that kidnapping you was the best thing he could’ve done. when he comes through the door after a rare visit to the outside world and he sees you sitting there, idle, practically waiting for him? he feels like the typical breadwinner coming home to a loving domestic life. he’s not so delusional to think that you’re happy to be his little house spouse and captive, but it’s not like you can do anything about it, so he might as well enjoy the thought while he can.

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swiggity-swexual-i-am-asexual · 5 days

Text

DPxDC media story prompt

Okay first off, this sort of thing has been done before, but here’s a different version involving Jazz Fenton.

Popular in DPxDC fanfic is that the GIW have a media blackouts—or whiteouts, there’s kind of a difference, where whiteouts work more like… there is a file, but you can’t edit it or it may be locked out for certain users, or an edited version of events where things are ‘whited out’ like with correction paste, among other definitions.

Point is!

The GIW have a media restriction, and among these is social media, probably with certain words or phrases pinging to location restrict the post. There was probably a phase for a while where the A-Listers tried to get around it, but ultimately failed, and since they could only get information IN rather than information OUT, and possibly still a limited amount of outside information in the first place, social media didn’t take off as much in Amity Park than in other places in the world. There’s still a small local presence, but at this point it’s almost like a city wide chat room than actual social media.

Enter in, Jazz Fenton. She’s chronically behind on trends, so by the time she decides to get on social media, the GIW aren’t being as militant on it. And she has that habit of calling the ghosts by code names instead of their actual names, such as Crate Creep instead of The Box Ghost, or Ghost X instead of Skulker. By pure coincidence of her personal language use and Tucker messing with all of Team Phantom’s phone locaters for easier excuse giving, Jazz manages to dodge all the word censors.

She accidentally creates a whole online story community convinced it’s some kind of altered reality game or role playing game, what have you. Meanwhile, Jazz is letting off steam by ranting online with, of course, made up names of all the people involved. She doesn’t even notice the numbers, and that’s assuming the GIW didn’t just—region lock the ability to see them for whatever reason. The few Amity Parkers on social medias see Jazz, maybe look at a complaint post or two, then move on because this isn’t even an unusual video inside Amity Park’s social media sphere.

Heck, PHANTOM has a social media presence and he’s done several rant videos too! One particularly famous one is him complaining about keeping his boots and gloves white while being chased and one of the GIW agents actually stops and gives him advice before shooting at him again.

Those outside Amity Park, of course, only see Jazz’s videos. And she has no idea that she has an entire online presence and mild amounts of online fame. And again, almost everyone thinks the whole thing is just a fun little game, if oddly detailed.

Until, that is, a certain young man by the name of Bernard comes in. One of the few who are totally convinced this is real, he tries to also convince his boyfriend—Timothy Drake-Wayne. Who, in turn, finds it incredibly suspicious that it’s this hard to get news and posts from one random town in the Midwest.

#dpxdc #danny phantom #story prompt #not gonna lie I’m mostly imagining Jazz having to deal with people trying to cancel her #because it turns out the ghosts have preferred names and she just isn’t using them??#she even gives Phantom a new name but it’s almost certainly an accident #she probably almost calls him by Danny and has to cover it by calling him something dumb instead #someone has to point out that if she hadn’t it wouldn’t have gotten past censorship #and no one would know #it’s a learning moment for jazz but also Tucker telling her JUST TAKE THE OUT #I actually really love media and chat fics #it’s just that a lot of them #are kind of. there’s a lot of rough ones #but there’s also so many gems out there too #this has definitely been done before but maybe not in this specific way?

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makisoda · 4 months

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𝐆 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐅𝐘

jjk characters and where they stand on the megan-nicki beef

jjk cast

cw : all the bullshit the meg-nicki beef entails ( look it up if you don’t know the backstory !!! )

a / n : crawled back just to yap… gulp also happy black history month i love black people 🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾

yuji itadori - team meg

NUMBER ONE MEG DICK RIDERRRRRR !!! loves her down… not much to say. i feel like he was never a barb either, prolly only liked a few songs. doesn’t really arguing online cause he’s scared of getting doxxed but argues in person.

nobara kugisaki - team meg

now, not even gonna start lying and say i feel like nobara never liked nicki. norb was def a barb, but she was also a meg fan too ! immediately dropped nicki when she found out her husband was a pedo though. IMMEDIATELY clowned big foot when it came out ( pirated it ). also argues with people online SHE DON’T GAF !!! twitter warrior !!! teams up with yuji to argue in person too.

megumi fushiguro - could not give two shits

i cannot see megumi listening to rap i’m sorry. yuji will play hiss and gumi will go “it’s good 😐” NIGGA !!! anyways, i feel like he wouldn’t like nicki cause duh pedo shit, but he just wouldn’t care about meg ? he’d feel bad when people bring up her mom though.

maki zenin - team meg

did you think she’d fuck with nicki ? FAWK no. never was a barb, always loved meg though. og meg fan too !!! doesn’t argue about it cause she’ll deadass just say “well one has a pedo husband so…”

yuta okkotsu - confused but siding towards meg

also doesn’t listen to rap, he learned everything from maki ( she sent him voice messages explaining it ). similar to megumi where he doesn’t really care but i feel like he’d like hiss as a song. immediately got the megan’s law reference and was GAGGED. anyways, he’s start to feel bad when people talk shit about meg but again he’s just kinda confused and he also isn’t a twitter user.

toge inumaki - team meg but was reluctant at first

chronically online ass mf. prolly listened to hiss as soon as it came out with itakugi. also was a barb pre all of this, however he dropped her. unlike nobara though, it took him a lil bit off time to drop her; it wasn’t instant for him. it was mainly cause he had been a barb for YEARSSSSS and has attachment issues. definitely argues with people online though he has 85 burner accs. streams hiss in his sleep like with the sound off.

satoru gojo - team meg

he’s the hot girl she talks about in girls in the hood actually. again, was a barb but wasn’t as hardcore as inumaki and nobara. also chronically online unfortunately and used to argue with people but once megumi made fun of him for it ( and told him about doxxing ), he stopped. too grown to be doing all this anyway.

suguru geto - i think he has bigger problems ( team meg )

like… deadass. this nigga has bigger fish to fry he don’t care 😭😭😭 mimiko and nanako made him listen to hiss and he liked it so that’s when he started to care but man… he got more stuff to worry about ! like, the girls update him on stuff so he doesn’t like nicki but he don’t be having time to keep up with it, you know ? gets 50% of updates from the girls and 50% from shoko and gojo.

shoko ieiri - team meg

didn’t gaf at first ( also has bigger things to worry about ) started getting most of her info from yuji and nobara and was HOOKED ! was fully tuned in, listened to it while doing surgery, like she was tuned in ! doesn’t argue on twitter, she isn’t insane, but does debate people about it in real life. keyword is debate, not arguing ( yuji and nobara shade ).

bonus :

ryomen sukuna - team nicki

let me explain, it’s only to spite yuji / megumi. we know how this nigga acts, he wants to torment them. doesn’t actually care and actually sorta sides with meg cause hiss is fire but because he’s annoying he’s team nicki.

listen to hiss or you stink !!!

#makisoda :: jujutsu kaisen !!#jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #jjk #yuji itadori #nobara kugisaki #megumi fushiguro #maki zenin #yuta okkotsu #inumaki toge #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #geto suguru #suguru geto #shoko ieiri #jujutsu kaisen headcanons

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pensat-i-fet · 1 year

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Al teu costat (Pablo Gavi x Reader)

**Hi!! I got a request to do something similar to this Pedri imagine and I was trying to make it different enough and came up with this idea. Then somehow felt the need to add Catalan phrases to it because why not? Here we read, we laugh and we learn 😅 enjoy ❤️**

Word count: 2584

Masterlist

Wattpad

"You two go to Eindhoven for the women's Champions League and you two to Vigo. All clear?"

"Shouldn't I go to Eindhoven? I've been covering the women's matches all season".

"I know", says my boss. "But the men's team is going to Japan right after the match and we need you on that plane. I was about to tell you about that but you interrupted me".

"Who else is coming with me there?"

"It's just you", he says, surprising me. I haven't been doing this for long enough to be sent alone to any matches. Even friendlies.

He grabs my arm gently to move me away from everyone else. "I get it. You don't want people to know about you and Gavi and this is another opportunity for people to stick their noses where they don't belong but it's also a great opportunity for you to prove yourself. I know you can do this. And you'll be flying with the players too. So it won't be as bad".

Yeah well…it's also a 15-hour long flight so I doubt having my boyfriend there will magically fix everything.

But he's right. It's another moment to prove how good I am at my job. I'm still always the youngest and ever since the rumours about me and Pablo started to show up on social media, it's been tough. Everyone is paying way more attention to me than I wanted. And not for the reasons I wanted them to pay attention to me.

[You]: I'm going to Japan with you so one less gift for your list.

[Pablo]: you are? Your boss is the best! And you can sit with me on the plane.

[You]: I'll sit with the rest of the press. We don't want more rumours 🙄

[Pablo]: if you think I'm going to spend 15 hours on the same plane as you but not with you, you don't really know me 🤣

He's right, of course. But all my colleagues are always looking at us to see if we show any signs that we really are together. Probably to be the first ones to post about it online. It's so boring.

"Breathe, just breathe", says my colleague Adrià when we are about to take off.

"You say it like it's easy".

He just laughs. He's used to this because I always have to travel with him. "It'll be Pablito's job to remind you later. At least with him you can cuddle or whatever. It'll help".

"Yeah".

I hope it does. But for now, it's time to worry about the match. Concentrating on my job helps me clear my mind a bit. It always has. And before I realise, we’ve made it to Vigo. This flight was short. The next one…

This Celta-Barça match is the last one of the season for both teams. One is fighting to stay in La Liga while the other one won it weeks ago…and it shows. I mean, Pablo isn't even on the starting line up and he plays almost every match.

When Adrià and I are walking towards the radio section, we see him coming out to inspect the pitch, eating some sweets.

"Great pre-match meal, huh?"

"It's how I got all these muscles you like so much", he says, flexing his arm.

I shake my head while Adrià laughs. “You two are too cute”.

“Do you want one?”, says Pablo, showing us all the sweets he has in his pocket.

“Sure”, we both say, picking one each.

“See you later, gorgeous”.

“Too cute”, says Adrià again and I hit his arm.

The 2-1 win means Celta avoids relegation and the whole stadium celebrates the result. But for me, it’s time to get all my stuff and make my way to the airport. It’ll be Adrià who stays to do the interviews this time.

There aren’t many journalists travelling with the team, but they are all staring at me after one of them announced I’m going to be in the player’s area and not with them.

“We never even get to travel with the players anymore but she gets to be with them in first class while we get chronic back pain on those tiny seats”.

“Well, they have to keep little Gavi happy”.

Their laughs make me want to get up and leave but I won’t give them that satisfaction. But their comments get to me. Of course they do. And that’s why when the players show up and Pablo looks at me, I shook my head. I know it hurts him to be rejected, but he also understands why I have to do it.

And it’s only 15 minutes later that I get to join him, and the rest of the team, on the plane.

“Where do you want to sit?”

“I don’t have a preference”, I say, already feeling anxious. Pablo, on the other hand, is acting like an overexcited puppy. And that makes me want to try and hide my fear even more so I don’t ruin this for him.

“Let’s go there. Do you want the window seat?”

“No”.

He takes my laptop bag to put it away and then leads me to the seats he likes. This plane is so big. Too big. But it also feels very small. Can this piece of metal really stay in the sky for so long?

"Do you want some?", says Pablo, offering me more sweets.

"No, thank you".

"Must be the first time you say no to sweets but it's pretty late I guess", he laughs. "Do you want to watch a movie or nap?"

"Yeah", I say, not really listening to him.

"Yes to which one?"

“What?”

He gives me a funny look but doesn’t comment on my reaction. “Movie or nap? What do you prefer?”

“Movie”.

“And cuddles?”

“Of course”, I answer, trying to match his smile.

I try to just focus on the movie and Pablo’s arms around me, protecting me. But they can’t protect me from this fear. Nothing can.

“Tinc por” (I’m scared), I whisper, barely aware I'm speaking.

Pablo looks at me worriedly and not just because of what I said. He knows I only switch to speaking Catalan in front of him when I’m being serious about something. He found that out the few times he pissed me off. And I also do it when I wake up in the morning mumbling nonsensical stuff. But the rest of the time, I speak only Spanish to him. Even if he’s always trying to learn new words in Catalan to say to me because he knows I find that adorable.

"What are you afraid of?"

"Flying".

"What? Since when? You fly for work all the time".

"And it's horrible all the time".

“Why did you never tell me?”

“It’s not as if you could help”.

“So was I supposed to find out when we went on holiday together?”

“I guess. Are you mad I didn’t tell you?”

“Yes. I don’t want us to keep big secrets from each other. But I’m more annoyed I can’t do anything to help you. Should I ask for a sleeping tablet for you? If you’re sleeping you won’t feel bad”.

“I thought about taking one later”.

“Better if you do now and get some sleep. And I’ll have time to figure out how to help”.

“Are you going to Google for tips on how to help?”, I joke.

“Yes”.

“I’ve already tried them all but I appreciate it. I appreciate you”.

While we wait for the flight attendant who’ll bring me my sleeping tablet, I hold onto Pablo tightly. He’s the best remedy to all my problems and doesn’t know it.

"You can leave when I'm sleeping".

"No, I can't".

"Pablo, you've played for 45 minutes and need to move around a bit. You can't just sit for so many hours".

"Stop worrying about me".

"I'm your girlfriend. It's my job to look after you".

"And it's my job to look after you".

I just shake my head at his stubbornness, hiding a smile while I take the tablet. Hoping it’s a strong one that will knock me out for a good amount of hours, I put my head on Pablo’s shoulder and close my eyes.

"Pablo?"

"Yeah?"

"T'estimo molt (I love you so much)".

"I love you too. Sleep well now. You need the rest. I’ll be here by your side the whole time".

When I wake up, I feel so groggy and confused. I notice a weight on my shoulder and see that it’s Pablo’s head resting there.

“Are you feeling better?”, whispers Robert when he notices I’m awake.

“Yes, thank you. I can’t move now, though”.

He laughs too before turning back to watch his movie. And I know I should grab my laptop to get some work done, which will also help me stop worrying about still being on the plane. How long until we get there? An hour and a half. I’ve slept for 13 hours. That’s…a lot.

I need to do something to avoid overthinking so I try and pick up my phone moving slowly.

“What are you…wait!”, seeing me awake wakes Pablo up immediately. “You ok?”

“Yes. I’m fine. We’re almost there and I have to do some work. That always helps”.

“I googled…”, his little blush makes me smile. “It didn’t help much. Unless you let me hypnotize you”.

“You already did. How do you think you managed to get me to date you?”

“So funny”, he says, rolling his eyes and smiling. “You really are feeling better?”

I nod. “And please tell me you didn’t stay all 13 hours here while I slept”.

“I didn’t. But I was always close and looking at you to make sure you were ok”.

“Good”.

I dedicate the last hour on the plane to work and thankfully, after all this suffering, we make it to Japan.

Our routine to avoid people’s comments is exhausting. The team leaves the plane and I have to wait until they are all out. When we get to the hotel, it’s me who gets there first. I don’t get to stay in the same room as Pablo, but it’s the same hotel so just being seen together on the lift could create some drama. And then when some players leave for events they have to attend, we also leave the hotel at different times…only to meet at a café we saw when we got there.

“Fancy seeing you here”.

“Let’s go see the city. Away from all those jealous idiots”, says Pablo, taking my hand. A part of me fears that if he finds out what they say about me, he’ll stop giving them interviews. And that will make me the bad guy for sure.

After a nice romantic walk, we go back to the hotel to rest before the match. A match that doesn’t mean much football-wise but has a lot of sentimental value since it’s against Iniesta’s team. I grew up seeing him play so I’m as excited as all the players are.

The match ends with a 2-0 win for Barça and when I go back to the tunnel to hide from the rain, I hear Pablo calling my name.

“What is it?”

“Come with me”.

“Where?”

“Just come”.

“Pablo…”.

But he doesn’t listen to my protests, moving his hand to grab mine before realising what he’s doing and just telling me to follow him again. So I do.

“Here she is. My girlfriend”.

When I see who Pablo is talking to, I try not to freak out. He’s introducing me to Andrés Iniesta? I have to remind myself to be professional before talking.

“Hi…it’s really nice meeting you”.

“Nice meeting you too. Gavi told me you needed to record a little interview for the radio? I wasn’t going to do any but I guess I can make an exception for him. Or for you”, he laughs.

For a second, I just stare at Iniesta. He’s talking to me and wants me to interview him. How is this my life?

Pablo notices what’s going on and touches my arm to wake me up from my daydreaming.

“Yes. Just two minutes. Let me get my phone to record it. Thank you so much, really”.

While we record the interview, Pablo leaves to meet Iniesta’s kids and then we all leave the stadium and I don’t get to see him until we make it to the hotel.

“Thank you for the Iniesta interview. It’s…a dream”.

“I get it. It was also a dream to play against him”.

I smile at him, suddenly not caring at all about who sees us. “Do you want to hang out before we leave? I have to write an article but it shouldn’t take long”.

“I need to take a nap, sorry”.

“Ok”, I say, slightly disappointed. “I’ll see you at the airport, then”.

Three hours later, I’m surrounded again by all my lovely peers. Noticing their whispers doesn’t bother me anymore. Who cares what they think?

So when I see the players arrive, I walk towards them. I can notice all of them looking at me, surprised. But no one is as surprised as Pablo.

“What are you doing?”

“Hanging out with you guys”.

“Since when?”, laughs Eric. “I thought you were ashamed of being seen next to us”.

“Only of being seen next to you, García”, I joke back.

We keep chatting and get to the topic I didn’t want to think about.

“I didn’t know you were afraid of flying. I used to be a bit but now I do a lot better”, tells me Robert, and I don’t know if it’s true or just him trying to make me feel better but I appreciate it anyway.

“Yeah, it used to be worse for me too. But it’s still hard”.

"It's easier having your boy by your side, right?”, asks Eric.

“A little”.

Pablo grabs Eric’s arm so he can whisper in his ear. And Eric whispers back. What are they doing?

"Sempre al teu costat" (Always by your side).

“Sempre?” (Always?)

“Sempre”.

Even if I can notice everyone’s eyes on us, I hug my boyfriend. And once again, no one is as surprised by my actions as him.

“They can see us”, he whispers.

“Let them see us. I don’t care”.

After the hug, we keep hanging out with the rest of the squad. And when it’s time to board, I grab his hand and hold it until we reach the place.

But all the adrenaline from finally confirming what everyone suspected goes away when I’m back inside the plane.

“Don’t freak out. I got you some things”.

“You what?”

I turn to see Pablo getting a bag out of his backpack.

“I got these tablets which are supposed to calm you down. They have natural ingredients so you can have the sleeping tablet too if you need to. I also got you an eye mask. The lady at the store said you won’t be able to see anything so that might help too. And…where is it? Here! Pillow spray. It’s supposed to be good too, I don’t know. It smells like lavender, it’s nice. I’ll keep it if it doesn’t work”.

"When did you buy all of this?"

"When you were writing the article and I said I would just go nap".

“Why are you perfect?”

“Just trying to help”, he shrugs.

“Having you near me was enough but let’s try all of this!”

#pablo gavi #gavi #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi one shot #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi x y/n #footballer imagine #footballer one shot #pablo gavi fluff #footballer fluff

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femme-dor · 1 year

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It’s gross how the main problem people have with the upcoming Barbie film is age. Not Production, not if the cast is capable of portraying the characters, not who’s directing…just age.

Margot Robbie is 32, nowhere close to being old, but chronically online children who have been convinced that life ends after 25 are disgusted she’s playing Barbie because she “isn’t young enough”. This is heartbreaking, extremely toxic, & especially telling as any Barbie fan would tell you that Barbie Dolls are made in a lot of age demographics, and as of these recent years, body types. Also Barbie was literally created by an adult woman I’m….-

I would say you obviously young women need chill with your incredibly high expectations about this movie of a doll franchise meant for little girls, but what y’all need to do is stop pretending to go hard for women’s youth & beauty not depreciating after 25, only to admit you’d think Barbie would be “less ugly” if the actress was 19.

#I’m excited to see this movie #y’all are weird asf #barbie movie #barbie #Ken #barbie doll #y’all wanna see hot conventionally attractive young people #who can’t act for a McChicken #tiktok is readily available #thoughts #barbie fandom #i’m excited #margot robbie #hot girls are excited to see Barbie #PERIOD #ageism #queue are so beautiful to me #my thoughts

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audrinawf · 1 year

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I saw this girl on TikTok asking why men date and marry plain Janes instead of spicy Sarah’s and how it’s because men can’t handle the Sarah’s because they are so amazing so they settle for the Janes, and let me just say, she had no business speaking about that topic because she was neither any Jane nor any Sarah, to begin with. Either way, I am so tired of this subject on TikTok as much as I am tired of these dark feminine channels that think femininity has anything to do with manipulation.

Is this not just another form of pick-me mindset? Because they sound so desperate to be picked. Please worry about yourself first. There are enough men out there for everyone. Or maybe you just think plain women don’t deserve love?

If you’re so spicy and hot because you dress up every day, then I do wonder why men are still marrying the plain Janes?

Maybe your personality isn’t as great as you think it is. Maybe you’re not even funny. Maybe you’re an anxious mess, and it’s just not pleasant to be in your company. The only thing you should be worried about is your unchecked ego.

And to clarify this is not a spicy Sarah hate post because I’m not going to group all women into two categories this is specifically a call out to women who have this superiority complex.

I also think women like this have a skewed view of love and relationships, and I can only assume that it’s because they are chronically online. No matter what, people choose the people that bring them the most peace. You are not going to be picked because you think you are cooler in real life; that doesn’t mean anything. Go touch some grass.

#relationship #hypergamy #femininity #self development #glow up #self care #dating and relationships #marriage

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lunehong · 9 months

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Tethered

college student! Jongho X college student! fem oc

Soulmate AU, just cuteness and fluff

warnings : mentions of anxiety, illness, pregnancy.

word count : 6.9k

synopsis : what happens when your soulmate bond is finally activated but it doesn't fall under any of the existing types? Jongho and Yunhee try to establish their connection with no clue and minimal examples to follow. Would they succeed in meeting each other and seal the bond or would they fall gradually ill?

a/n : okay so my first ever oneshot, and I'm glad I could write one for our baby bear jjong cuz there aren't many jongho fics on here PLUS I miss him so much :(( I hope he's recovering well and also his birthday is coming up next month! feedback is always appreciated!

----- A reblog would mean the world to me <33 ------

Yesterday was Yunhee’s 18th birthday, which meant that she was finally an adult according to society’s standards. It also meant that she could watch netflix shows that were adult rated without feeling guilty about her age and of course, call chronically online minors out on their behaviour as someone who’d automatically be deemed more mature and responsible.

However, this also entailed that her soulmate bond was activated.

Yunhee did feel a tingly sensation and the butterflies in her stomach like the others said she would, but after that everything went back to normal. No tattoos were etched onto her body, nor did she see a flash of her soulmate’s face in her mind and there was no response when she thought of a bunch of things to test if they had telepathy.

She really didn’t know what went wrong but it made her anxious. Also the fact that she had no way of knowing if something happened to her soulmate, as their soulmate bond was still unidentified.

“You should really calm down, Yunhee.” said Minha, her best friend of 7 years.

“What if I don’t find him soon enough? We have to meet each other as soon as possible after our soulmate bond has been activated or else we’d both gradually fall ill! Don’t you remember what happened to Nina and her boyfriend?” Yunhee muttered anxiously.

“It has only been a day! I don’t understand why you’re panicking so much. Give it a week and if there’s still nothing after that, then we can panic.” She concluded.

Taking her best friend’s advice, Yunhee decided to leave the matters into her soulmate’s hands, thinking if she was frantically trying out different confirmation methods, it was safe to assume that he was also doing the same.

“Dude, I’m telling you, your soulmate bond is telepathy! There isn’t any other type that matches!” Wooyoung exclaimed, while flailing his hands around to prove his point.

“But I haven’t heard anything from my soulmate so far! Nor do I know if the things I thought reached her!” Jongho yelled back.

“Okay… Well, try again later! Don’t give up on this, because I’m a hundred percent sure it’s telepathy of some sort even if it isn’t the common one.” Wooyoung got up to leave.

“How are you so sure? Are you a soulmate specialist or something?” Jongho scoffed at him.

Wooyoung smiled at that. “Remember how my soulmate bond was telepathy?” Jongho nodded, “I never told anyone this but, mine wasn’t your typical telepathy… It was one-sided.”

“What? No way!” Jongho stared at him in disbelief.

“Yes, our bond was such that I couldn’t hear anything from her but she could hear everything I thought about. I was ready to give up when I got this idea and decided to give it a last shot.” Wooyoung continued.

“What did you do?” Jongho asked.

“I sat down and started revealing my full name, my social media handles, my address and other details in my head, so if there really was anyone listening they’d know how to find me. She showed up on my doorstep with my favourite snacks not long after. The rest is history.” Wooyoung grinned while recalling the memory.

“How the hell did we not know this before? It’s literally a story worth telling!”

“Yes, I’m aware but the topic never came up and I can’t just randomly reveal that my soulmate bond was flawed you know?” Wooyoung tried to reason with Jongho.

“Okay, fine I got it. I’ll try thinking of different things and hope it’ll reach my soulmate somehow” Jongho sighed, giving in.

“That’s the spirit! Let me and the other guys know if you feel anything and I’ll see you later. Bye!”

Jongho headed to bed early that day, feeling exhausted. As he was lying in bed, trying to fall asleep, an idea came to him. ‘What if I focus on one topic to think about instead of multiple things at once? It might be a more organised approach and less strenuous for my brain.’

So he sat up and started consciously thinking about one topic, but phrased them in various ways.

‘What is your name?’ He waited a bit but there wasn’t a response.

“At least I know this won't work,” he said out loud.

‘Can you tell me your name?’

No response.

“Okay, that’s crossed out too then. How else can I phrase it…”

If anyone saw him then, they’d think he had gone mad by the way he was talking to himself.

‘Could you speak your name?’

‘Could you spell your name?’

‘Could you trace your name on your hand?’

Jongho tried phrasing it as many ways as he could, even if some sounded ridiculous.

‘Telleth me thy name.’

He paused before laughing at himself.

“So, Shakespearean English is crossed out too it seems.”

When he ran out of all the ‘tell’, ‘spell’, ‘speak’ and ‘think’ questions he took a different route.

‘Can you write your name?’

No response.

Jongho yawned, feeling sleepy. Lying back down on the bed, he tried thinking of a few more sentences before deciding to continue again the next day.

‘Could you write your name on paper?’

No response.

“Okay, then” he said.

‘Write your name down on paper for me please?’

He paused, just about to fall asleep.

That was when the most unexpected thing happened to him.

Yunhee was tossing and turning in bed, unable to fall asleep. She had just finished her college assignment, due the next day and all the stress she took for it made her extremely tired.

Assuming sleep would come easy to her, she finished her nighttime routine and headed to bed. But alas, sleep was nowhere to be found. It was one of those days where her body was tired but her mind was wide awake and she despised when that happened because it meant that she would not be able to fall asleep anytime soon.

She started counting sheep in her head as a last resort.

When she was on her 29th sheep, Yunhee heard something resonate in her head. The first noise sounded like an incoherent crackle and she almost dismissed it as her mind playing tricks, when she clearly heard a soothing male voice telling her to write her name on paper.

She sat up on her bed abruptly and tried to reach out to the guy, but to no avail. Her heart was beating very fast at the prospect of finally receiving a telepathic message. She was able to hear her soulmate’s voice and it was a feeling like no other.

After waiting a bit, she decided to do what the voice told her to: write her name on paper.

Yunhee got up, retrieving her notebook and a pen from the desk. Sitting back down on the bed once again, she opened the notebook to an empty page and scribbled her name on it. She also wrote “What is your name?” underneath.

She waited for a bit in case another message came through but there were no other responses.

Yunhee was completely unable to sleep that night.

Jongho couldn’t believe what he just saw. It was like a flash that only lasted for a few seconds, but he saw a vision through someone else’s eyes. He saw a hand pick up a light blue notebook with the words “hakuna matata” written in a corner with golden ink. The hand also picked up a pen and wrote down something in the notebook. What it wrote, Jongho couldn’t make out because the writing became hazy and blurry. He could only read out ‘Park’ and the writing underneath that said ‘what is your name?’.

He was sure the person wrote her name down but he could only read her surname.

Jongho felt something unexplainable in his gut. He was finally able to reach his soulmate, even though he couldn’t see her name. Thinking about the vision brought out a sense of longing inside him. He wanted to see more, feel more and know more about her, but he didn’t yet know how.

‘At least this is progress’ he thought. ‘I need to tell the others about this and figure out what I should do next.’

The doorbell rang but the sound went unheard by the group of guys inside the apartment. The person standing outside got impatient after a while, and had to bang on the door to gain everyone’s attention.

“Geez, Hongjoong-hyung why are you banging on the door like that? The bell exists for a reason.” Wooyoung tsked while opening the door for him.

“I rang the bell like 10 times already! None of you brats could hear it over the noise pollution! I swear y’all can be heard from down the hallway!” Hongjoong yelled at him.

“Cut us some slack though, Hongjoong. We met up after almost a month!” Seonghwa reasoned with him.

The seven guys excluding Jongho made themselves comfortable in Jongho’s living room, catching up with each other. Meanwhile, the resident of the apartment arranged some refreshments for the eight of them, bringing them over to the living area before plopping down between Yeosang and Mingi.

“So let’s come to the reason why I called you guys here–”

“You called us for a reason!?” San fake gasped.

“You wouldn’t have invited us if you didn’t have a use for us!?” Yunho butted in.

“Guys let the poor boy speak! I can kinda guess what it’s about.” Wooyoung tried to defend Jongho.

“Yes, thank you Wooyoung-hyung. The reason why I called you here is because I was able to contact my soulmate yesterday and I still don’t know what type of bond this is.”

At the revelation, everyone started yelling over each other and asking questions, of which Jongho was unable to decipher a single sentence.

The seven looked like a bunch of chattering baby birds that wanted food from its mother. He sighed and shook his head, thinking how the people in front of him were supposed to be older in age.

“Guys, one at a time!” he yelled.

“Okay, so it’s telepathy right?” Wooyoung asked.

“Yes and no.” Jongho paused to sort out what he wanted to say, “It’s telepathy, yes, because I consciously thought of something and it went through. But, only one kind of conscious thought out of all the other ones I tried to send, elicited a response.”

“That’s…weird?” Hongjoong muttered.

“And not just that, hyung. The response I received was in the form of a glimpse, showing me a vision through my soulmate’s eyes!”

“What?” exclaimed Mingi.

“So, it’s not just telepathy, it’s specific and supposedly one sided, while you receive sporadic glimpses through your soulmate’s eyes. That’s a very odd combination.” Wooyoung said, in deep thought.

“This is more complicated than yours was, hyung.” Jongho muttered.

“What do you mean?” Yeosang questioned, being able to hear what he said.

Jongho proceeded to tell them all the details regarding what he thought and what he saw in the glimpse, meanwhile not forgetting to expose Wooyoung and how he hid such crucial information about his own experience. The rest reprimanded Wooyoung for it, making him sulk, but they also collectively tried to figure out exactly how the bond worked.

“What happened!” Minha burst into Yunhee’s place, panting like she just ran a marathon.

“Why hello there best friend, why do you look as if you got chased by a dog?” Hayoon, their other best friend, asked sarcastically.

“Dude? I came here as fast as I could! I got Yunhee’s text a while ago that said ‘EMERGENCY’ in all caps! I thought some code blue shit happened to her!” Minha exclaimed.

“Wow, and I thought the text I received was bad… she sent, ‘come over, I have something to say’ that made me rush here because I thought she was pregnant or something, which would’ve been really bad considering her soulmate bond just activated.” Hayoon laughed.

At that very moment, Yunhee walked in with tubs of ice cream, suddenly feeling like she entered a lion’s den. The two girls yelled at her for being so dramatic over nothing but calmed down once she handed them their favourite ice cream.

“So, the reason I sent those ‘dramatic’ texts as you two so eloquently put it, is because I got contacted by my soulmate and I freaked out.” Yunhee revealed while rolling her eyes.

“What?” Minha yelled.

“When? How?” Hayoon followed.

“At night yesterday! I was trying to sleep after finishing the assignment and that’s when I heard his voice in my head telling me to write my name on paper. I don’t know why that was so specific but yeah I did as he said.”

“Did you hear anything in return?” Hayoon inquired.

“No, unfortunately. That was the only thing that came through.” Yunhee sulked.

“But hey! You got contacted by your soulmate! So we are sure that nothing happened to him and he’s probably trying to figure out how the bond works as well right?” Minha tried to cheer her up like the mom she was, unable to see her kid sad.

“Yeah, that’s true. I hope he figures it out though because I’m at a dead end here.”

“I’m sure he’ll figure it out! We currently have nothing to do but trust him and cheer him on. So don’t stress too much, Yuns. Stay alert and just wait for him to make the connection again.” Hayoon exclaimed, in a cheery voice.

“Exactly! Let’s trust him on this one and we can think more about it when he manages to contact you again. Meanwhile, tell us how he sounded! What did you feel?” Minha shook Yunhee in excitement.

So, the three girls spent the rest of their time discussing the interaction and other’s soulmate experiences while they enjoyed their ice cream.

Jongho recalled the conversation that he had with the guys earlier, who managed to come up with a few hypothetical situations for him to experiment.

He sat down on his desk with a notebook before him, taking notes like he would for a science class. The guys did have a few different ideas but Hongjoong’s idea made the most sense to Jongho.

Hongjoong proposed that the message that went through was a command rather than a suggestion or a question. And what Jongho received as a glimpse was the completion of said task that got sent as a command.

So what Jongho had to do was make his soulmate do tasks for him and if it worked out every time, then eventually find a way for them to meet face to face.

He relaxed himself and thought of a task for her to do.

“Okay, so I know that I’d probably not be able to know her name or see what she looks like through the bond so I can’t ask anything related to that.” He spoke out loud.

After thinking for a while, Jongho got an idea. He decided to send his soulmate to her favourite cafe and order her favourite drink. In this way he’ll be able to figure out which cafe she frequented and what drink she liked as well.

‘Go to your favourite cafe and order your favourite drink first thing in the morning.’ He thought, hoping that his soulmate heard it.

“Did it sound too rude? But I can’t send anything other than a command and commands don’t particularly sound nice though.” He spoke to himself again while scratching his head.

Before he could overthink more, Jongho wrote down what he said and headed to bed as he had classes to attend the next day.

Taking a last minute impulsive decision, Minha and Hayoon chose to stay the night at Yunhee’s house. The three slept over at each other’s places quite often, making it a regular occurrence in their lives. Yunhee let her mother know about it and she told her to grab the extra mattress that they had for such occasions.

While she was dragging the mattress to her room, she heard a crackle resonate in her mind like the last time. Yunhee dropped the mattress, focusing intently to see if her soulmate’s voice came through.

Minha was walking back with a glass of water when she spotted her by the living room standing as if she saw a ghost while the mattress was abandoned on the floor.

“Yuns, what happened–”

“Shush! I think I’m getting another message.” Yunhee quickly cut her off.

Indeed, the soothing voice she heard the first time spoke to her again, making the darn butterflies in her stomach return to torment her. She unconsciously smiled, the emotions that hearing her soulmate’s voice evoked in her being all very new.

Minha stared at her from the side, relating with the lovesick look on her friend’s face all too well.

“Go to your favourite cafe… and order your favourite drink first thing in the morning?” Yunhee repeated what her soulmate said to her out loud. She looked at Minha, tilting her head in obvious confusion.

“That’s what he said?” Minha looked equally perplexed.

“What is taking you two so long– why are y’all standing there with the mattress on the floor?” Hayoon came out of her room to check on the two.

Minha told her what happened while they dragged the mattress to Yunhee’s room. They sat down to think why her soulmate would send in yet another oddly specific message asking her to do something.

“You know what I think?” Hayoon said in a serious tone, unlike her usual carefree demeanour, “The only form of message he can send are the ones that tell Yunhee to do something. ‘Cause think about it! He probably already tried saying the common stuff like ‘what is your name’ or ‘where do you live’ like we telepathy types did, but in our case all the things we tried to send went through.”

Yunhee and Minha looked at each other for a few seconds before directing their attention back to Hayoon, who was raising her eyebrows at them.

“Wow dude, what’s up with you? You’re actually making sense today!” Yunhee exclaimed with fake enthusiasm while patting Hayoon on the shoulder, who rolled her eyes and pointed her middle finger towards Yunhee in return.

“Yeah! But Yoon’s right. Can’t relate though, ‘cause I was the tattoo type but she has a point. And I also think that he can somehow sense if you have done the given task or not or else he wouldn’t have any way of knowing if his messages are going through.” Minha added while laughing at Hayoon.

“I mean, the task is simple enough. I do visit cafe Aurora before heading to class anyway, so it won’t be anything out of the ordinary, I guess.” Yunhee muttered.

The three girls started their movie marathon, when Minha’s phone rang. It was a facetime call from her soulmate Changbin, who was also their childhood friend since middle school.

When Minha turned 18, which was three months back, she invited all her friends to attend the party, including Changbin. He was out of town that week so he couldn’t attend her birthday party.

The tattoo that appeared on Minha’s wrist was supposed to be the first thing her soulmate told her after it was activated, which said, “Happy birthday! Sorry I couldn’t make it, Min.”

Minha looked absolutely bewildered while Yunhee and Hayoon laughed at it like maniacs. She got teased by the other two the entire day, while she tried to appear nonchalant about it.

When they were younger, Minha never liked the concept of soulmates and always complained about the idea of getting paired up with a complete stranger for the rest of their lives as it seemed unnerving to her. But when she realised that her soulmate might be good old Changbin, she didn’t hate the idea anymore. It was true that Minha never saw him as anything more than a friend but he was an amazing guy and she did think he’d make a good partner.

At night she received a call from him and indeed, the first thing he said was “Happy birthday! Sorry I couldn’t make it, Min.”

Minha laughed and said, “Thanks, idiot.” when it dawned upon Changbin as well that his soulmate was none other than Minha.

They met up when Changbin returned (he basically scrambled to return as fast as he could) and made it official.

Among Yunhee’s friends, Minha and Changbin were probably the fastest soulmates to seal the bond which made a lot of them jealous because of how easy it was for them to find each other.

Back to the present, Changbin facetimed Minha who received the call.

“Hey Min, are you staying over at Yunhee’s today?”

“Yep. Sudden decision.”

“Oh okay, have fun! And pass the phone to Yunhee please.” Changbin spoke.

Yunhee peeked from the back and waved at him.

“You! What were you thinking when you sent a text like that, dumbass? Who sends ‘EMERGENCY’ and dips without explaining what happened?” He exclaimed.

“Ugh, okay fine sorry. I won’t send texts like that again. I got nagged enough by these two, I don’t need you to add anything to it, Binnie.” Yunhee whined.

“At least you’re fine and dandy so I’ll spare your ass today. How's the soulmate situation going?”

They told him everything that happened and gossiped with him for a few more minutes before hanging up.

Yunhee left to talk to her parents about something, only to come back to the room with her brows furrowed at the screen of her phone.

“Uh, Yoonie? Why is Eric texting me saying if I decided to keep the baby or not, and if I did he’ll help me convince my soulmate to keep it too?”

At this, Hayoon and Minha looked at each other, before they burst out laughing. Yunhee was still looking at them in bewilderment but the two were not being able to stop.

After two minutes of them laughing without break and Yunhee standing like the clown that she was, they finally stopped.

“Remember the text that you sent me? I showed it to Eric and he was the one who said ‘why does she sound like she’s going to announce her pregnancy or something’ and we realised that it could be a possibility, because dude, everyone knows that you write paragraphs when you text. So, such a thing was not to be taken lightly.” Hayoon shrugged.

At this Yunhee threw a pillow at her, yelling how her love life was as barren as the Sahara desert (because she couldn’t fall for anyone else when the thought of having a soulmate later in life hit her) and how she and her soulmate shared the same braincell.

“Come on! At least he’s supportive!” Hayoon defended Eric.

“Yeah yeah, I can see that. Let me call him and explain the whole thing, or else he’ll start preparing to be an uncle.”

Eric was Hayoon’s soulmate that she met 3 weeks after her 18th birthday. They were the telepathy type, being able to contact each other almost immediately after the soulmate bond was activated.

The two had a few bumps on the road, as Eric wasn’t cooperative in the beginning. The reason being that he liked this other girl and he couldn’t accept the fact that his soulmate was someone else. But the said girl found her soulmate a week after, which finally pushed Eric to move on and seek his own soulmate.

Minha and Yunhee didn’t like him, as he made their best friend suffer and put her at risk of getting ill due to the unsealed bond, but he redeemed himself eventually. Now they were a pretty wholesome couple.

After clearing the misunderstanding, they resumed the movie marathon, falling asleep in the midst of it.

Jongho didn’t feel like getting up. It was a cold winter morning, which made sleeping under the warmth of the duvet all the more enticing. But he had to wake up as he had an important class to attend that day.

He reached college early, so he was waiting inside the classroom when he saw it.

a glimpse of an awfully familiar cafe. He was able to hear her voice this time, when she spoke to order a regular hot mocha. A shiver ran down his body when he heard it, realising how sweet her voice sounded to him. Keeping his emotions at bay, he noticed two very familiar faces through the glimpse before it ended.

“Cafe Aurora, huh.” He smiled to himself. His soulmate was nearer to him than he thought.

As he entered through the door in a hurry to get away from the cold, Jongho noticed that the cafe was busier than usual. He figured that it was due to the freezing weather outside, while the cafe provided the warmth everyone including himself was seeking.

Upon reaching the front he spotted Soobin behind the cashier counter, taking orders like he usually does with a smile on his face. Beomgyu was in the middle calling out names and distributing drinks while San was at the back making them for the customers.

He eventually spotted Jongho and called another worker to take his place, so that he could go greet his friend.

“Jongho? Fancy seeing you here.” San spoke up in a playful tone.

“Why? Can’t I visit my dear hyung during his shift?” Jongho retaliated.

“No, of course you can but you usually don’t frequent this place. Remember when you told me it was far from your house and you already found another place to get your iced americano from?” San raised his eyebrows making Jongho avert his gaze.

“Okay, fine! You got me there. I came here to ask you something.” he pouted.

“Ei, don’t feel bad! I was teasing you! But do visit me more often from now okay? What did you want to ask?” San laughed while patting his back.

“So, I saw another glimpse this morning. I’ll tell you the details later but I think Hongjoong hyung’s theory worked. Can you tell me if you remember any girl, possibly a regular here, ordering hot mocha around 8 am?”

“I make the drinks dude, I wouldn’t know. Hey, Gyu? Can you come over for a sec?” San yelled.

Beomgyu, who finally got to breathe after distributing the drinks, clicked his tongue and walked over to where the two were standing.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“Do you remember any regular female customer that came today around 8 am to order a hot mocha?” San asked him.

“Okay first of all, I have been distributing over hundreds of drinks, at least 30 of which were hot mochas. And if we are talking about 8 am then a lot of people came in to get their morning fix before college so I don’t think I can help you.” He paused.

“You could check the server but I doubt that would be of any help either, because a lot of female regular customers order hot mochas in the morning so…” Beomgyu shrugged.

“Okay thanks, Gyu. We’ll figure something out.” San sighed.

“Why? Did anyone take a drink without paying again?” Beomgyu inquired in a concerned voice.

“No, no. We’re trying to find Jongho’s soulmate.” San and Jongho laughed at Beomgyu’s expression.

“Oh, thank god. Good luck searching for her, bro.” Beomgyu gave Jongho a thumbs up before resuming his work.

San looked at Jongho, who was deep in thought.

“How’d you know she came to Aurora?”

“Oh, come on hyung, I’d recognise the interior anywhere! Plus, she gave her order to Soobin and you were at the back making drinks. I saw you two in the glimpse.” Jongho poked San in the shoulders, making him swat his hand away.

“Moreover, I think I found out how the bond works. So, I’ll increase contact and try to get her to meet me somehow.”

“That’s the spirit! I know you’ll succeed Jongho-yah.” San said with a proud look on his face.

He asked Jongho if he still wanted to order an iced americano in a weather like that, to which he said yes. San shook his head at the boy but proceeded to make him what he wanted, yelling how he wouldn’t take any responsibility if Jongho caught a cold later.

He just smiled and gestured at him to continue making the drink.

Two days have passed since Yunhee received the last message from her soulmate. She was trying not to think about it, distracting herself with other things but every now and then her mind would fleet to the honey-like voice which evoked an unexplainable sense of longing in her. She wanted to hear his voice again.

During breaks, the trio made a point to gather whenever their schedules coincided, to catch up and complain about college, even though it was just their freshman year.

Yunhee was walking towards their hangout spot with Hayoon when she felt like another message was coming through. She stopped walking and tapped Hayoon on the shoulder to do the same.

The now familiar voice reverberated in her head saying “Write the name of your favourite flower on your notebook.”

She stood there with a faraway look in her eyes, while the girl beside her extended and retracted her hand awkwardly, not knowing if she should shake her best friend or not.

Hayoon didn’t have to suffer in indecisiveness for long, as Minha approached them and did the job for her by back hugging Yunhee, bringing her out of her trance.

“Why are you two standing here? Let’s go.”

“Wait, Yunhee received another telepathic message. What is it bro?” Hayoon asked Yunhee.

“He asked me to write the name of my favourite flower. What is he up to?”

“It’s just flowers Yunhee, he probably wanted to know basic stuff like that so that he can be prepared when he finally meets you.” Minha reasoned.

“Okay let’s go sit, so that I can write it down.”

The three headed to their hangout place. As soon as Yunhee sat down, she reached for her bag to bring the notebook out. She opened it and wrote, ‘sunflowers, but pink roses are great too’ after much thought.

The other two teased her saying they already knew she was going to write sunflowers so she really didn’t have to ponder so much, but Yunhee disagreed by saying how she found all flowers pretty so it was hard for her to pick one.

The following day, Yunhee received another message that asked her to write yes in the notebook if she was available on the weekend and no if she wasn’t.

She ended up writing a ‘YES’ in capital letters on her notebook that probably covered the whole page, out of sheer excitement.

Jongho on the other hand received a glimpse of it, laughing at how adorable she was. It was as though he felt the excitement of his soulmate and that made him more eager and impatient to meet her.

Yunhee immediately informed Hayoon and Minha about it, who were equally thrilled for their best friend and promised to help her get ready for the occasion.

Weekend arrived faster than the two soulmates anticipated. Jongho made sure to send her a message saying “Go to cafe Aurora at 4pm” before he started preparing to meet her.

He got ready at three and sent a message to his group chat asking which flower he should pick between sunflowers and pink roses. Most of them suggested him to buy both and get them arranged in a nice bouquet.

What Jongho didn’t know, however, was that the seven were already camping at cafe Aurora (excluding San because it was his shift anyway) to watch the scene unfold.

Yunhee finally finished getting ready with the help of her two best friends. She opted for a classy but casual look: flared jeans, puffy sleeved black top, minimal pearl accessories and light makeup.

She kept stressing and overthinking about the entire situation like the worrywart she was. At first Minha and Hayoon were trying to reassure her and alleviate her concerns but after a while it became frustrating for them so they nagged her and threw her out of the house before it was too late.

Yunhee, although still anxious about the whole meeting up with her soulmate situation, took deep breaths and reminded herself how much she had been wanting to meet her soulmate for the past few days. After calming down a bit, she headed towards the cafe.

Jongho arrived at the cafe, the bouquet of flowers in hand. It seemed as though he attracted quite a bit of attention, because of how big the assortment of flowers looked due to the big and vibrant sunflowers. He didn’t think much of it however, opting to find a suitable seat while he waited for his soulmate to arrive.

San on the other hand, went inside the storage room upon Jongho’s arrival to alert the other six who were hiding in there. The guys were trying to find a suitable position to peek in through the door; bickering in low voices to prevent being seen. Yunho had to hold his hand over Wooyoung’s mouth in case he yelled unintentionally and gave out their position.

Meanwhile, San explained the whole situation to Beomgyu and Soobin, who finally understood what was going on.

“Here goes nothing.” Yunhee muttered to herself while she pushed the door to the cafe open. Upon entering she noticed that the cafe was moderately busy– an unusual sight for her as she always visited early in the morning during the rush hour, when all the seats were occupied and a huge queue present.

She didn’t know what to look for as her soulmate hadn’t really mentioned anything that would help her identify him in the crowd, but she hoped that her ‘soulmate senses’ would assist her with it (if such a thing existed).

Soobin noticed her standing awkwardly by the door and called her.

“Hello! Yunhee, right?” he said.

“Oh, hi! Yeah, I usually drop by before going to college. I’m glad you remember my name!” Yunhee was grateful to him for striking up a conversation.

“You seemed like you were searching for someone. Do you perhaps need some help?” He inquired.

“I was, actually! To be honest, I don’t know what he looks like.” she paused. “It’s… my soulmate and today is supposed to be our first meeting.” Yunhee said truthfully.

Upon hearing what she said, Soobin immediately yelled at San to come to the counter, who was standing at the back.

Yunhee saw Soobin whisper something to his ear and he looked at her with his eyebrows raised in shock. He then moved back to allow the guy to stand in his place.

“Hi! I’m San and I usually handle making beverages at the back. Soobin here just told me that you are looking for your soulmate, is that right?” He asked politely.

“Nice to meet you! And yeah, I am.” She replied.

“Looks like we’ll meet each other more often from now on, Ms.Yunhee.” San said while smiling. “And you might want to look there, on the right side, where a guy is sitting with a huge bouquet of flowers. Good luck!” He instructed while pointing towards the table.

Yunhee approached said table and immediately noticed the assortment of sunflowers and pink roses along with a few other flowers. She tapped on the table to get the guy’s attention, who was on his phone with his back to her.

Jongho looked up, only to find, arguably, the most beautiful girl he has ever laid eyes upon. He seemed to be in a trance, everything but the girl in front of him becoming a blur.

Yunhee wasn’t faring any better, feeling like her heart was beating out of her chest as she stared at the guy that was supposed to be her soulmate.

Both of them felt like something clicked in place, like the final piece in a puzzle that they didn’t even know was missing all this time.

Jongho recovered first, standing up to move the bouquet so that Yunhee could sit in the seat in front of him. Once she settled down, he swiftly handed the flowers to her, to which she thanked him in a bashful way.

“I did think your choice of flower was unique, but now that I saw you face to face, it suits you.” Jongho said, after clearing his voice.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, thanks.” Yunhee replied.

“I’m Jongho. Choi Jongho. Sophomore in college.”

“Park Yunhee. Freshman.”

“Yunhee… a pretty name for an even prettier person it seems.” Jongho replied playfully, making her blush.

They carried their conversation, feeling quite relaxed and comfortable after a while. Yunhee asked him a bunch of different questions, as she couldn’t do that with their bond earlier and Jongho patiently answered every query that she had with a smile on his face, not missing to ask her some in return.

The more they communicated, the more they realised how similar their values and preferences were, which dispelled all the concerns they had about liking each other.

Jongho got up to collect their order when he noticed the six heads peeking through a door in the distance. He made his way towards the door and swung it open, to see the six guys trying to hide behind carton boxes.

Jongho folded his arms and glared at them while they stuttered trying to explain the situation. Meanwhile, San pretended he did not see anything and continued his work.

Being discovered already, the guys came out from the storage room and greeted Yunhee, who was taken aback at first but reciprocated their enthusiasm almost immediately.

She could see how embarrassed Jongho looked because of them so she tried to console him by saying that her friends were like this too and they’d all get along really well once they met.

The guys started leaving one by one, seeing how Jongho’s death glare was still quite evident and they didn’t want to be at the receiving end of their youngest’s wrath.

Jongho sighed and apologised to Yunhee again for his friends’ sudden intrusion to which she was fine with and said that it was quite nice to meet the people he was close to.

They finished their beverages and chose to take a walk outside before heading home.

As they were walking along the pavement, Jongho felt a sudden urge to hold her hand. He tried to appear nonchalant and brushed his hand with hers, to which Yunhee responded by grabbing his hand while looking the other way.

As someone who hated skinship with all his being, Jongho didn’t quite fathom why he felt the need to initiate physical contact with the girl walking beside him. Something as simple as holding hands was making his emotions go haywire.

'So this is what having a soulmate feels like.' Jongho thought.

“Right? I always felt like it was a foreign concept to me, which I couldn’t relate to at all when the people around me shared their stories. But now that I’m experiencing it for myself, I get what they were saying.” Yunhee replied, while swinging their joint hands back and forth.

Jongho looked at her, perplexed about how she knew what he was thinking when their soulmate bond was supposed to dissipate once they met; not to mention it wasn’t regular telepathy to begin with.

Yunhee glanced back at him, to see his head tilted endearingly towards her in confusion.

“You said that out loud, Jongho.” She pointed out while giggling at his expression.

“Oh, I didn’t realise that.” Jongho turned his head away to hide his embarrassment but Yunhee noticed how red his ears were, making her chuckle again. He figured that he really loved how her laugh sounded.

After their impromptu stroll, Jongho took Yunhee home.

They were at the gate, when the girl turned around and held both of Jongho’s hands.

“I had a lovely time today, so thank you so much for that. Thank you for not giving up on me even after knowing how complicated it was trying to find how our bond worked, as I completely started depending on you after not having a single clue about it. I know that our life was kind of on the line too but still I’d like to express my gratitude. And also… thanks for not turning out a jerk I guess?” Yunhee ended with a mischievous smile, making Jongho laugh.

“Then I’d also like to express my gratitude for the fact that you chose to trust me on this and I’m so glad that you’re my soulmate.” Jongho smiled warmly while squeezing her hands tighter. “Also, thanks for not being a snobbish Karen.” He ended with a wink.

Both Yunhee and Jongho felt all warm inside just by looking at each other. Every emotion that they felt just by doing the bare minimum seemed heightened and it was a complete new experience for both of them.

The day ended as Yunhee hugged Jongho despite him telling her he hated skinship, and surprisingly Jongho didn’t mind it and hugged her back.

Yunhee promised to introduce her parents and friends to him some other day, to which Jongho wholeheartedly agreed, saying he’d do the same.

At last they parted ways, Yunhee entering her house and Jongho on his way home even though they didn’t want the day to end.

Unspoken promises of a life together at each other's side lingered on. A life, where they were bound to be together, chosen as each other’s counterparts by fate itself. No matter how many lives they lived, the red string of fate would always bring the destined souls to one another; such was the way of the universe.

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