#my favourite lines from the pieces i have written so far
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fatima aamer bilal, from even flesh eaters don’t want me.
[text id: i want to embrace you so closely that our bodies would become one.]
#my favourite lines from the pieces i have written so far#poeticstories#unrequited love#poetry#quotes#book quotes#writing dialogue#dark poetry#literature#literary#lana del rey#taylor swift#mitski#pheobe bridgers#poem#sad prose#spilled thoughts#words#excerpts from my journal#poem excerpt#ivy#bts#writerscreed#art#pakistan#text post
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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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Birthday Buddies - Max Verstappen
<word count - 3009>
"OK Maxie, here you go," you said, handing him the envelope with his name scrawled on the front. "Thank you, my love," he smiled, running his fingers under the flap to open it. He eyed you suspiciously as he didn't see a card in the envelope, instead seeing a folded piece of paper.
Unfolding it, he saw the words written on the page. 'Max, as you know, today is your birthday! You're 26, and have already achieved so much, and I am so proud of you! To find your gift, you have to use your brain a bit... So, your first clue is the place we went on our first date,'
"Making me use my brain... Honestly, my love?" he sighed.
"Yes, now, take me to where we had our first date," you smugly smirked. Max figured he may as well play along. You had planned it all out, and he already knew you had put a lot of effort into it. Plus, it was your birthday too, so he had to listen to you just as much as you listened to him.
"OK, OK, follow me," Max smiled, taking your hand and leading you out of your apartment. He took you through the winding streets of Monaco, the sun slowly setting over the city. You arrived outside of a small cafe that he took you to, because it was out of the way of the world and you could get to know each other, without the prying eyes of the world on you.
"Good job Max, you have unlocked the next clue!" You smiled, handing him another, identical envelope as he opened it. "So you could just let me skip straight to the end, but you're choosing not to?"
"Where's the fun in that? I thought it would be fun to take a trip down memory lane," you said, the both of you remembering the magic that was your first night out. Max thought it was a nice idea, since you had done a lot together since you had started going out, and these were definitely some of his favourites.
He thought he had blown it after your first date, since he was a stuttering, babbling mess due to how much he liked you. He could barely hold a conversation without being gobsmacked that you were there with him.
He just couldn't get over how much he liked you, but he thought he had ruined any chances with you. Little did he know, you found it endearing how nervous he was. "Yeah, I guess it is fun," he nodded, unfolding the next piece of paper.
'Well done, but you're not quite near the finish line yet. Next spot: Where did we have our first kiss?' he read outloud. "You really have to make this a bit harder, these are too easy," he shook his head, taking your hand again.
It wasn't too far away from the cafe, and it was out on the marina. Some of the boats had their lights on, and the buildings behind you were also lighting up. "You're not in the right spot, hang on," he said, placing his hands on the sides of your arms and shifting you so you were stood by the exact palm tree on the marina yacht club walk.
"There, we are in the perfect spot," he said, standing in front of you. He remembered gazing at you as you looked out on all of the boats, your eyes glittering under the marina lights. You were entranced by the way the sea sparkled, and how the boats gently bobbed on the surface of the water.
There was no resisting the urge to kiss you when you noticed him staring, and it was the best decision he had ever made. He drowned in the feeling of holding you close, getting to have his lips against yours. It was like sparks flew whenever he touched you.
"Yes we are, meaning you get the next clue," you smiled, the memories making you feel drunk with happiness. "OK, this is kind of a two in one," you told him, fishing the next envelope out of your bag.
'You can't have possibly forgotten this one, because I know I can't, and I don't think you'll ever let me! Take me to the first place that you told me you love me...' he read, a smirk dancing on his lips. "Oh I will never forget this one," he smiled, grabbing your arm.
You were almost reluctant to put this as a clue, since it was a bittersweet memory. Max had taken you to the most beautiful restaurant you had ever seen, and it was still one you frequented now.
Then, he had taken you on a short walk around the streets of Monaco, before stopping you at a bench by the sea. He was so nervous, since he was about to tell you his feelings. You, on the other hand, were nervous because you were sure you were going to throw up.
You had felt off all day, but you weren't going to cancel on Max, so you just grinned and bore it. But now, your actions were proving to have consequences. As Max stopped you by the bench, you remembered every little detail of the events that unfolded.
He sat you down, just like he did two years ago, and took your hands. As the both of you thought back to that night, it was as if it were yesterday. Max looked beyond nervous as he looked at you, terrified you weren't going to feel the same way.
Current Max started to stutter, reenacting the moment. "So, Y/N, I... Uhm-" he fumbled, jittering around just like he did. "I love you," he blurted out, and you could have sworn you were back there. "I-" you started, before turning around and pretending to wretch into the bin behind you.
In the memory, Max didn't care that he could have just ruined everything and simultaneously embarrassed himself, he just cared that you were OK. He rushed to your side, before sitting you back down.
Now, he said the exact same line he had said, "Me saying I love you wasn't that bad, was it?" he said, and it caused a smile to form on your face both times. "I do love you Max, I just feel awful," you said, leaning into him like you always did.
"That was a weird night," he smiled.
"It was. I was surprised you still loved me after that one, it was the worst timing possible," you laughed, looking at his dazzling smile. "I couldn't fall out of love with you for something so small, I was just relieved you felt the same, my love," he said, waiting for the next clue.
"Next up, the penultimate clue," you said, handing him the final of the normal envelopes for the night. 'Since it's your birthday, it wouldn't be a birthday treasure hunt without sending you to the place where we found out we have the same birthday!'
"This has been the easiest treasure hunt I have ever been on," he smirked, walking off and expecting you to follow him. You had picked all the spots quite close together, so that you wouldn't have to walk too far.
"OK, here we are," he said, just stopping in the middle of the street. It had simply come up in conversation when you were walking and talking, and the two of you were both shocked, but also excited.
Ever since, you both went all out to have the best day the both of you could ask for. "Any reason you sent us here or?" he asked, rocking back and forth on the spot.
"No, I just thought it was relevant," you shrugged, producing the final envelope of the excursion. "This one might be harder for you, but I don't know," you told him, handing him the golden object. 'Finally, take me to the place where I first fell in love with you,' it said.
Max looked confused, and you could see the cogs turning in his mind. "I would have remembered if you had told me where this was," he said, not moving from the spot as he thought.
"Would you like a lifeline? You can phone a friend, take the bonus clue, or have me point you in the right direction," you told him.
"I'll take the bonus clue," he decided, waiting for whatever it was going to be.
"You have selected: 'Y/N's Bonus Clue!'" you enthusiastically said, revealing a blue envelope with a big, orange question mark adorning the front. "Thank you, my love," he smiled, opening the envelope and looking more confused.
'We've already been here today...' he read to you, taking a moment to think. It could have been any of them, really, but he went for the one he thought would be most likely. "OK, follow me," he skeptically said, taking you back to the marina yacht club walk, next to the palm tree where you had shared your first kiss.
"Unfortunately, that is the first one you have gotten wrong today. You can still use one of your life lines, those being phone a friend or have me point you in the right direction," you told him, glad you hadn't made it too easy on him. "I'll phone a friend," he said.
"Alright then, phone a friend it is," you said, pulling your phone out of your bag and dialing a mystery number. Well, it was a known number, but you had changed the contact name to mystery number. "I thought it was phone a friend?" he said, taking the phone from you.
"It is," you nodded as if it were obvious, the mystery person picking up on the other end of the line. "Hi, this is Max, I'm doing Y/N's treasure hunt, and I'm stuck on the last clue. I've been told you might be able to help me?" he asked, feeling positively ridiculous.
"Hi, yes I can," the person tried not to burst out laughing, "You need to take her to the place where you first figured out she was the person you wanted to spend your life with," he laughed, remembering when Max had told him that. He had found it unbelievably cheesy, yet sweet at the same time.
"OK, thank you Lan- I mean mystery person, I appreciate it," Max giggled, now knowing where to take you. "Right, off we go," he said, leading you to the final destination. He was hoping the mystery person wasn't wrong, because that would be embarrassing.
"Here we are," he hummed, stopping you back outside the cafe that was your first place. "I think the mystery caller sent me to the wrong place," he sheepishly said, rubbing the back of his neck. Surely you hadn't loved him since your first date, right?
"No, you're at the right spot," you reassured, letting him figure it all out in his head. "What was the clue, Max?" you prompted.
"The place you first fell in love with me," he recited, the pieces still not fitting together in his mind. "And where are we?"
"The place we had our first date?" he said, and it sounded more like a question due to his unsurity. "Exactly, because I've always loved you. Even if I couldn't put a name to how I felt back then, now I know it was just because I had never loved anyone as much as I love you," you smiled.
"Thank you, my love, that was beautiful," he smiled, trying to contain tears at how much your words had touched him. "As for your gift, it's back at home," you said, and nothing happened. "I said, as for your gift, it's back at home!" you shouted, craning your neck so your voice would carry further around the corner.
A man appeared from around the corner, a hood pulled up over his eyes. He dropped something by your feet, and you picked it up. "Sorry, excuse me, you dropped this," you said, but the man kept on walking. "Well isn't that strange," you said, handing him the black, leather book that the man had dropped.
"It is, isn't it?" Max joined in, catching onto the act. He ran opened the cover, immediately realising what this was. It was a photo album, with all the pictures you had taken at those spots you had sent him to today, as well as others from other good times.
He ran his fingers over your features, noting how you hadn't changed at all in the two years you had been together. "There's not much you can do for a man who has it all," you smiled, hoping he liked it. "You're right, I do have it all, I have you," he said, cringing at himself internally.
However, you couldn't hide the goofy smile and blush that tinted your cheeks. "But this is the best gift you could have gotten me besides yourself," he said, flicking through the pages upon pages of memories, forever recorded through colour.
"I'm glad you like it," you grinned.
"Now come on, birthday girl, let's get you home," he smiled, tucking the album underneath his arm, looping the other around your waist as he lead you home. When you got to the door of your apartment, you noticed it was open.
"I swore I locked this when we left..." You said, worried. You didn't want your birthdays to be ruined by someone breaking into your home. "Yeah, you did," he reassured, but he was awful at hiding the smirk on his face.
Pushing the door open, you saw that the room was lit up in nothing but candles, and relaxing spa music was playing. "I didn't take you to a single spa while we've been globe trotting, so I thought the least you deserved was the at home Spa de Max," he explained, pushing you through the door.
"Well I already think Spa de Max is better than any spa you could take me anywhere else," you told him, walking into the apartment. "I hope to live up to your expectations, so, go put this on, and your masseuse will be with you when you are ready," he said, handing you a fluffy white robe - just like in a spa.
"OK," you zealously nodded, excited for what Max had in store. You did just as he had said, changing out of your clothes and into the robe. When you got back out to the living room, you saw the dining room table in the middle of the room, with what looked to be a mattress topper on top.
"Trust me on this, it is actually very comfy," Max said, standing beside the table. "On you get," he told you, and you clambered onto the table. "May I?" he said, slipping his hands into the robe by your shoulders. "Yeah, course," you agreed, letting him slip the soft fabric off your shoulders, and leaving the rest handing on you hips.
"Lie on your front for me, my love," he said, as you maneuvered onto your front, resting your head on your arms. "Now just close your eyes, and relax," he instructed. Max dabbed some essential oils on his hands, before running them over the span of your back.
As he worked his hands into your muscles, you were trying not to fall asleep. "How did you know we'd be going out?" you asked, wondering how he had managed to sneak someone in to set the house up.
"Because your little helper is also my little helper. He told me we'd be leaving, so I sent him to set all of this up. But, don't worry, he didn't tell me a single detail about what we'd be doing," he reassured you, knowing you wouldn't want the surprise to be ruined.
"Our helper has been a busy boy," you slurred, trying to keep yourself awake by talking.
"Aww my love, are you tired?" he teased, moving his hands up your neck and across your shoulders. "This is just so nice," you mumbled against your arms.
"Don't fall asleep just yet, you still have a few more experiences in Spa de Max," he said, his hands ceasing their movements. "That'll be hard to beat," you said, sitting up on the table. "Fine, I'll take that as a challenge," he smiled,
When you stood off the table, Max pulled your robe back up and over your shoulders, tying the belt back up to keep you warm. "Tonight is finally the night I will allow you to put a face mask on me," he said, pushing you onto the couch and sitting next to you.
"Really?!" You asked, gobsmacked. For some reason, Max had plainly refused to put on a face mask whenever you did, but now was your opportunity. "Yes, anything for the birthday girl," he smiled, even if it was his birthday too. The best gift for him was seeing you happy, after all.
You tugged your headband out of your hair, slotting it onto his head as his blonde strands were pushed back out of his face. On the coffee table, Max had differents pots of face masks with pre-sliced cucumbers to choose from. "Which one?" he asked.
"I'll go for blue," you nodded as he picked up the blue pot, unscrewing the lid. Max just dipped his fingers in, practically slapping the thick substance onto your face. He slathered it around until he thought he had covered enough of the area.
"Max, you have put it on so thickly, it'll never dry," you whined, seeing half the container was gone, meaning half was on your face. "Just means you'll be extra refreshed," he smiled, picking up the green pot and handing it to you.
You did the exact same to him, slathering more than two thirds of it onto his face, before trying to put the cucumber slices on his eyes. Before you could, he pulled you in for an affectionate kiss. "Happy birthday, my love," he smiled, tucking some of your hair behind your ear.
"Happy birthday to you too, Max, I love you,"
A/N - Happy birthday to Maxie! And to me so I guess that's fun... Have a great day!
|masterlist|
#f1#f1 imagines#f1 x you#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagines#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1#fluff#f1 x y/n#formula 1 x y/n#max verstappen#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x y/n#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen imagines#mv1#mv1 x you#mv1 x reader#mv1 x y/n#mv1 imagines
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Bonjour, lovely!! I adore your fics, your choice of words are just *✧delectable✧* and I'm amazed at how you beautifully written Kaz. If you may, could you write a little fluff with the reader being a skilled painter/sculptor and she helps the crows in art forgery. (I personally love when there's a little angsty yearning in the mix but I trust you will blow it out of the waters). Mercii!!
Stolen hearts - Kaz Brekker x Reader
Prompt : As a crow who specializes in art, what happens when Kaz stumbles upon one of your personal sketchbooks and gets a little jealous?
- Pairing : Kaz Brekker x Reader
- Warnings : Jealous Kaz, Kaz being an idiot, he gets a bit upset but nothing too crazy :)
A/N : Hi my loves, this is a pretty long one but I ADORED this idea, and so I let myself run with it.This may just be one of my favourite things I have ever written so I really hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing this!! As always requests are open, and please check my list here for other characters I write for!!
click here for masterlist
click here for characters I write for
(Also it seems as if we are getting closer to finding out if we are getting a SOC spin off!! After the writers strikes we should hopefully know, so lets try keep the Grishaverse fandom alive on here!! <3 )
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"You want me to recreate that in two days? Kaz, the original is painted in oils, they don't even dry in that time!" You exclaimed, peering over the top of a stolen painting at your boss, his gaze hard yet not harsh.
"I am aware," Kaz began, "But that's why I hired you, isn't it? You have not missed a deadline once, and I know you won't miss it now," his firm voice rung out into the acoustics of his office.
And of course, he was right.
Although you would have to take a few shortcuts, you could feel your fingertips twitching against the oak frame of the piece, mind already composing each element of the scene. Tucking it beneath your arm, you let out a gentle sigh, nodding swiftly in his direction before departing from the room.
He had saved you, and this painting was only a fragment in your repayment of Kaz Brekker.
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A fire had swept through your village just beyond the confines of the Barrel, leaving you with nothing but your pouch, filled to the brim with pencils, inks, and as many types of paper as you had been able to salvage. The corners of your paintings began to singe as your home was engulfed, pain piercing your heart as you sprinted down the path to evade the impenetrable walls of flame.
Ketterdam beckoned you into her grip, as you ventured through the dim alleyways until shadow gave way to dazzling light displays. The Lid revealed itself to you, and with no other choice you slotted yourself in with the penniless street merchants that lined the alleys of Ketterdam.
For years, you offered sketches, portraits, and paintings to the rich tourists that marveled at Ketterdam's wonders. Although mere pennies were offered in exchange for your work, it was enough to renew your supplies and evade sleeping by the canal, or being trampled by tourists.
As time crawled along your skills blossomed, transforming your rough ideas into magnificent pieces, worthy of far more than a few kruge. Soon, you began to slip into galleries, memorizing each stroke until your mind could guide your hands without a single thought. Portraits that were worth thousands were then being passed into clueless pigeon's hands for only a few hundred kruge, as your skills were unmatched in the art of forgery.
Little did you know that you were being kept under the watchful eye of Kaz Brekker's wraith, your talents being thoroughly observed and reported back to the leader of the crows.
You were able to swindle the pigeons for a few months until the Watchstadt began to take note of the remarkable artistry of your paintings. Overnight, the tides of your fortune changed, awaking one evening to the thudding of leather against stone, inching closer to you as each moment passed.
In a desperate attempt to escape your fate, you clutched your belongings and shot down a back alley, shadows offering you a blanket of protection from the moon's shimmering light. However it seemed as if your luck had reached its limit, as several guards barreled out in front of you, as your other exits were swiftly stolen from you.
Tears began to blur your vision, lightheadedness overtaking your senses, the guard's words became muffled and distant, as panic overtook your being. You were barely aware of a gentle voice calling you from your terror, a soft hand wiping away the beads of pain falling from your eyes.
In the hours that followed, you scarcely registered anything but your gratitude towards Inej, and ultimately to Kaz who had been increasing the hours that his wraith was sent to protect you. In a few swift meetings, Kaz Brekker had settled a deal with you, sheltering you from the darkness of the Barrel, whilst securing a valuable new member of the crows.
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"Thank the saints that that is over," Jesper all but shouted, falling backwards onto the sofa in the common room of the slat. Placing yourself on a worn armchair opposite, you felt somewhat peaceful as your painting had been so seamless that the entire mission was cut short by a few hours.
After jobs, each crow fell into their own routines to unwind the tension that undeniably interwove into each of them. Kaz's cane thumped lightly against the creaking oak of the staircase, ascending to his room to continue plotting. Hushed whispers often omitted from Wylan and Jesper as they basked in each other's company.
Inej was usually missing, as she was now, exploring the endless expanses of rooftops whilst allowing the bitter air to cool her down. Taking in the couple across from you, and a now slumbering Nina beside you, you reached for the familiar leather binding of your sketchbook.
The glowing embers of the low-lit fire cast soft shadows on your friends, and the light washes of orange and red watercolour aided in your attempt to capture the peaceful scene unfolding before you. However, the absence of a certain presence pulled you from your portrait, thoughts straying to the man who undoubtedly was scheming once more in his office.
Since joining his crew, a small fondness for the "demjin" had harbored itself deep within your heart, impenetrable and unmoving. He treated you with a cold kindness, gifting you small tins of expensive paints, or the latest papers, completely dismissing the fact they were irrelevant to your job.
With a short shake of your head, the thoughts dispelled, returning your mind to the clarity it needed to produce your sketch, the flames from the fireplace dimming as the room began to fall into shadow. The peace that art instilled you with returned, as your heartbeat slowed and a sense of calm washed over you with each brushstroke.
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Settling into his chair, Kaz let out a short breath, tension easing slightly from his body as relief gripped him, all thanks to you. Your painting had exceeded his expectations, not a single person suspecting the image to have been forged, and the original stolen into the possession of the Dregs.
Few things could entrance Kaz Brekker, yet something about the way your colours melted into each other, or the clear emotion engrained into every miniscule detail of a painting pulled him in. Perhaps the depth of your sculptures, or the smooth yet carefully crafted edges of the clay coming to life in his imagination were to blame for his admiration for you.
Kaz's mind wandered as he thoughtlessly ridded his desk of it's papers, hastily stacking them into neat piles as he tried to shake his thoughts of you.
Suddenly, Kaz was startled from his inner battle, gloved fingers brushing against a foreign texture, a hard leather cover of, something? Curiosity urged him to retrieve the book from underneath the blueprints and paperwork, eyes scanning over the front in search of a clue as to what the binding held.
Carefully undoing a well tied string, the front page fell flat against his weathered desk, the candle beside him offering a gentle illumination. Kaz's breath caught in his throat as he recognized the contents of the book, the etches of the pencil being too precise to belong to any person, but you.
The charcoal marks formed on the fraying page to portray Jesper, content as he sat on a patterned bar stool in the Crow Club, eyes slightly creased in content. Thumbing to the next page, Kaz discovered another depiction of his sharpshooter, however this time he was polishing his guns. Unlike the previous image, Jesper was now depicted in a light wash of colour, bringing him seemingly to life.
Enchanted by your work, Kaz continued to marvel at each sketch and painting, however a sharp feeling grabbed at his chest as he came to a realization. Apart from a few pages here and there, the subject that lined the parchment was always Jesper. Turning the pages increasingly quicker, a feeling of dread seeped into his stomach, a twisting combination of jealousy and annoyance building within him.
A gentle knock broke him from these thoughts, as your voice called out in the hope you would be permitted entry. Carefully, Kaz slid your sketchbook to the opposite end of his desk, pretending to analyze a discarded stack of papers before allowing you in.
"Hey Kaz, I was just coming to check in on you, I didn't get to catch up with you after..." you began, speech diminishing as your eyes fell upon the bronzed edges of one of your sketchbooks. Your eyes lit up as you began to grin.
"You left it on my desk," Kaz stated, trying desperately to burry the knot in his stomach, as your expression brightened at the thought of finding the book full of Jesper. "I've been looking everywhere for this one, thank you Kaz," you respond, hastily reclaiming the book, folding it snuggly between your arms and your chest.
"It shouldn't be here," Kaz snapped, a sharp tone piercing the previously warm atmosphere, "It's your personal sketchbook, so it needs to stay personal. Understand?" Kaz bit out, stunning you into silence as you backed away towards the door.
"Oh," you began, "I didn't mean to leave it here," voice cracking as you battled through the shock of his manner, and the hurt of him snapping at you. "Make sure I don't see it again, although I'm sure Jesper would love to," Kaz concluded, practically spitting out your friend's name.
The dismay you felt began to ebb away as you took in your boss' expression more closely, your upset being replaced with something resembling humour. "Kaz," your voice quietly began, "You're not jealous, are you?" you question.
Although the room remained silent, his features spoke a thousand words to you, his eyes widening fractionally to reveal fright, face becoming tinged by a rosy blush. Before you could utter another word, Kaz had guided you to the arched doorway, pushed you through the threshold, and slammed the door before you could witness the tips of his ears turning crimson.
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Through the warped glass pane of his window, Kaz was stirred by the early rays of sunrise, face gently caressed by each stream of light that infiltrated the darkness. Despite the restless sleep he gained, the bastard was surprised he had managed to fall unconscious at all.
From the moment he had shut the door on you, feelings of jealousy and shame had consumed him. He swore he had heard a splinter echo throughout his chest as he recalled the hurt spreading across your face the previous evening.
Letting out a short breath of frustration, he slowly contorted his stiff limbs into a sitting position, and only then did his gaze cast onto the unfamiliar shade of leather perching on his nightstand. Unease began to spread through his body, fingertips sparking with anticipation as he reached over to retrieve the sketchbook.
Frustration began to wrestle with the discontent, as he unwound the ribbon binding the wrinkled pages together, yet the colour of the leather seemed to shift underneath his gaze. Unlike the book he had previously discovered, this one was made of a darker material which he could only liken to the darkness of midnight. As he angled the cover, flecks of gold appeared, the early sun dancing light off of each one, illuminating the leather as if it were a sky full of stars
Nimbly undoing the ribbon on the side, the first page fell open, and to his surprise, a neatly penned note fell out of the cover, revealing an image behind it that Kaz was sure he would have permanently engraved in his memory. A pair of sharp eyes met his own, and his breath caught in his throat as he questioned whether he was glimpsing into some sort of mirror.
With a desperation he himself could not even comprehend, Kaz began to flip through the pages, the guilt he had initially felt now burning him from the inside out, singeing at his chest. Each portrait captured his every emotion, each stroke precise and beautiful in a way he had never experienced before.
Gently unfolding the corners of the note, Kaz's gaze deepened with each curling letter of your short message -
Dear Mr Brekker,
After your discovery yesterday, I thought it only fair to also show you your notebook too. I have one for each of the crows, yourself included, and so I kindly ask you not to panic further about Jesper being the only muse of my pieces.
Love, your favourite artist
P.S ~ You also have a second book, if you are interested.
Kaz's breath hitched at the word 'love' before his mind could even comprehend it, head spiraling with thoughts of you as he pictured your gentle teasing laughter as you penned the note to him. The guilt and shame became so consuming in that second that his chest constricted, and he knew the only way he could alleviate the weight was by visiting you.
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A sharp knock pierced through the silence of your room, pen stopping mid point as you called a gentle welcome to the man behind the door. Kaz's figure slowly filled the doorframe, waistcoat slightly untucked, and hair somewhat out of place as if he had raced to see you.
A teasing grin began to illuminate your features, and the sunrise seeping through your window was more than bright enough to display Kaz's rose dusted cheeks as he averted his gaze. Without so much as a sound passing through his pursed lips, a gloved hand directed itself towards you, clutching onto the dark sketchbook.
You smile faltered, the glimmer seeping from your eyes as your lips fought to stay curved, as you questioned, "You didn't like it?" Kaz shifted his dark gaze to meet your own, brows lightly furrowing as he grumbled "I thought you might want it back."
Your gaze softened as the walls you had been beginning to construct around your heart crumbled, "Oh, I meant it more like a gift Kaz, plus I have several more books dedicated to you anyway," you uttered tenderly. The figure before you lowered his head towards the object in his hands, knuckles whitening beneath his leather gloves as his grip hardened.
After a fleeting moment of your boss' gaze sweeping over your features, he gave a swift nod in gratitude, the scent of ink and secrets trailing behind him as he ventured back to his office. Disappointment clung to your chest at his swift departure, hoping that he would have remained in your presence for a few moments more.
However, as your gaze travelled upwards to glimpse at his departing figure, you noticed how he had faltered in your doorway. His broad shoulders were facing you, allowing you to to observe every deep yet ragged breath that lifted his chest.
"I..." He began, voice so low that it was barely audible, "I'm sorry for last night, I shouldn't have said those things to you," Kaz almost spat out, the words tasting foreign on his lips as he attempted to quickly escape to the confines of his office.
"Kaz," you called out, hope unravelling the knots of anxiety from previously, leaving you with streams of a newfound confidence, "I just thought you should know you are my favourite subject. No one else in Ketterdam seems to have a better facial structure than yours."
Kaz could hear the thick inflections of your smirk within your words, ribbons of humour intertwining with each letter you spoke. Despite your teasing being met with a remarkably loud silence, your words had planted themselves deep inside Kaz's heart.
Racing back towards his office, the beat of his cane against the oak panels of the slat hastened by the second.
Yet not even they could match the pace at which Kaz's heart was beating, as his mind replayed your words over and over in his head until the way the word "favourite" was all he could hear.
Thinking back to your short note, Kaz's lips formed a ghost of a smile, since not only were you his favourite, but he was yours.
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Kaz Brekker tag list : @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @ell0ra-br3kk3r @swhisperer @sleepynightchild @atlasiiae @kaiinohh @sannunah28 @at-the-chateau @withbeautyandragendrage @animalistic00 @whos6claire @any-corrie @daisydark @shara-ne @xxinvisiblexx @ldhpeter @viperinferno @kozbtchx @wishyouwere-sober (please comment if you would like to be added to the Kaz Brekker taglist)
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P.S - The best way to support writers on here is to repost / repost + add tags! If you could spend a minute or so doing this, it would mean the world <3
#kaz brekker x reader#six of crows x reader#six of crows#shadow and bone#six of crows imagine#kaz brekker#kaz brekker imagine#kaz brekker x reader imagines#kaz brekker x you#shadow and bone season 2#ashessonfire#kaz brekker x y/n#kaz brekker headcanons
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hiii ruby !!! congrats on ur milestone i think ur so cool and funny and ofc so so deserving :D for ❤️🔥 can i request forehead against forehead from prompt list 5 bc i am a sucker for it <33 thank u ily !
ahhh!!! anna you are so lovely <3 thank u sm for picking this one it opened pandoras BOX in my brain and i think this is by far my absolute favourite i've written this whole damn celebration & its bcos its, of course, friends to lovers <3 - 1.7k+
The wish is far-fetched.
You knew that from the beginning and yet, like wishes were stackable, like wishing for something over and over would improve its odds of happening, you couldn’t help yourself. Every eyelash, every time the hands of the clock line up at 11.11, you wish desperately.
Eyes scrunched closed, you wish for Steve.
You have him, of course, just not quite as you want him.
It feels selfish, the hungry feeling that rises in your chest when you look at him too long, eyes drinking in every detail you adore. Long lashes, hazel eyes, lips so pink it wasn’t fair. You want him all to yourself. These are not the usual thoughts of a best friend.
Sometimes, the yearning seems to carve out every part of you til you feel hollow inside; because you’d offer it all out to him, every piece of yourself between your cupped hands, his if he only wanted it.
You want him to want it. To want you. Badly.
So, you wish. At this point, it feels more like a habit than anything — the clock hits eleven minutes past 11 and you send a little prayer out to the universe to give you this one thing. You don’t notice how Steve notices.
He can’t quite connect the dots in the beginning, can’t see the pattern that strings together all the things he’s noticed. How from time to time, you’ll close your eyes and squint just a bit— but then, quick as it happens, it’s gone. You’ll open your eyes, look over back at him, and continue on as if nothing has occurred.
Steve doesn’t pry, even though he really wants to — the first time you notice him watching you, he raises his brows, a silent what was that? with a hope you’ll clue him in. He wants in on all your secrets. But in an instant, he can see the embarrassment creep across your features, so he drops it, waving his hand, and resumes talking, eyes back on the road ahead of him.
After a month of subtlety catching the habit of yours that he's come to cherish, the sweet scrunch of your eyes and gentle clench of your fists at your side, Steve notices the clock.
You check the clock, most of the time, before your eyes flutter closed. It happens late in the morning and close to midnight. But then again also at random intervals, at times he’s not expecting. The frustrating pattern evades him even though he’s noticing. Noticing is, infuriatingly, not enough.
It takes another month for Steve to realise you’re wishing.
He’s enamored with the habit now — especially, now he knows you’re sending little hopes, blowing on eyelashes with the fervor of a little kid. The craving to know your secrets, to be trusted with your wishes, has grown ten-fold since he first noticed. Steve notices just about everything about you now.
It’s hard not to. What started as trying to comprehend your peculiar pattern, has become... something entirely different. Steve feels helpless to do anything but admire you now. His feelings for you have become startlingly fond, borderline sappy.
The sound of your laughter and how it threads gold into his days marvels him. The colour of your eyes in the morning light. How you curl up in his passenger seat like it’s the comfiest place you’ve ever known, like you could sit there all day with him. If he asked.
He’s pretty sure his heart strayed from best friend territory the moment he figured out the wishes. Maybe, he’s fooling himself and it’s always been this way.
It’s on his mind, even as the two of you sit at the back of the Hawk theatre, some garbage Sci-Fi film flickering on the screen. Normally, the back of the cinema was unofficially reserved for couples that wanted to make-out — Steve had pulled that move on a dozen dates. Picked a cheesy romance and the cozy darkness of the back of the theatre.
This is not the same, he knows. It’s not a cheesy romance film, you’re not quite at the back, and most importantly, this is not a date.
Steve really wishes it was.
“Hey,” Your whisper shakes him from his thoughts. Steve’s gaze moves from boring into the back of the chair in front of him to your concerned face. “Y’okay?”
You’ve turned towards him, shoulders hunched over like you might disturb other people in the cinema if you’re too big. It’s silly, there’s barely anyone else in here but you and Steve. A couple people a few rows forward.
Steve nods, throat dry. You don’t look convinced, eyes narrowing for a moment as if you’ll say something when your expression shifts. You focus on something below his eye.
“What?” Steve whispers, too aware of your fixed stare. His nerves creep up, feeling a bit flushed beneath your attention. Your hand comes up, reaching out to graze across his cheek and Steve forces himself to stay still. To not melt into the touch.
“S’just an eyelash.” You whisper, still focused. Thumb moving gently as you can, you sweep the eyelash beneath his eye off his cheek. It moves an inch but remains stubbornly on his skin. You huff silently, turn his way a little more, and lean in closer to try pinch it. It takes a moment as you try your best not to pinch Steve at the same time.
When you finally snag it between your fingertips, victory comes in the form of your pleased smile. It takes another moment to realise just how close you’ve gotten to Steve. Leaned over, his breath fans over your face and you can see the film reflected in his eyes, action sequences playing far, far away.
Faintly, you think that if you had your wish already, you could lean in a few inches further and steal a kiss. You think of the eyelash in your fingertips.
The thought knocks sense back into you, blinking hard, but just as you go to pull back Steve’s eyes flash down to your lips. He licks his own, then swallows, looks back up at you. A wretched thread of hopes keeps you from pulling back just yet — desperately praying you’re not reading into nothing.
Steve doesn’t pull back. His heart has hiked so far up his throat he’s surprised he’s able to get any words out at all.
“What are you wishing for?” He croaks, too quiet. You hear it anyways.
Surprise shows on your face, lips parting and eyes widening just a moment. Steve wants you to give back the eyelash just so he can make his very own wish right now.
“How did you... know?” The last word is meek, only audible because Steve is so close. He wants to be closer. He moves an inch, recalling every single time he’s gotten the signals right in the past to keep him from losing his nerve. Tries not to think about what he might lose should he be wrong this time.
“You,” He huffs a little laugh, searching your eyes, trying to see if it’s the same hope he feels inside that he’s seeing in your eyes. “You close your eyes and wish on every 11.11. And— and eyelashes and dandelions too. You do this little squint, like you’re thinking real hard about what you want.”
Unable to help himself, Steve steals another glance at your lips as your tongue darts out to lick them nervously. His chest rises and falls a bit fast, nerves urging his pulse to run faster, faster. God, he’s nervous. Steve can’t remember ever being so nervous at the mere chance of just a kiss.
“So, what're you wishing for?” He asks again, in a whisper just for you two.
The film illuminates the side of your face, shadows dancing across the lines of your cheek. You’re beautiful, Steve thinks, achingly so. The silence twists his heart painfully. He doesn’t know you’re merely gathering your hopes to spit out the honest answer.
“You.”
You whisper the word quickly, knowing if you have a moment to think about it you’ll tuck it and all your selfish desires back away into your heart. But you ache for this moment — hunger devouring your insides with how much you want to kiss the boy before you. Enough that you’ll risk it.
It’s worth the risk.
The single word sets Steve off and he closes the distance between you in an instant, lips against yours. It’s gentle as he can manage while his heart works overtime pumping molten-hot affection into every part of his body. He feels giddy. He nearly forgets to memorise the curve of your lips, the warmth of this against his own, it feels so deliriously good to be kissing you. He thinks he’s been missing this his whole life.
You look a little dazed when Steve pulls back, lips with a sheen that catches the flashes of the cinema screen. You don’t speak, just blink and sink your teeth into your bottom lip, mind miles away. Your lack of a smile worries Steve; he feels like he could burst with how he wants to beam if this is what you want too.
He gathers his courage and presses forward again, til his forehead against yours. Tells you what he knows to be true, what you’ve been dying to hear. “You have me.”
Your eyes snap up to meet his and you give Steve a flood of relief, lips pulling into a smile. A small laugh of disbelief titters out of you, your smile transforming into a grin that betrays your utter happiness. This close, you let the want take over you and lean in to steal another kiss off his lips. He gives it to you sweetly and oh-so-willingly.
You stay this close, nose nuzzling against his, both your heads bowed to meet each other in the middle.
“I’ve been wishing on you for months,” You admit bashfully, your whisper wobbling in your embarrassment. You’re worried the enormity of your want for him will scare him off. Steve’s grin somehow gets wider, eyes somehow fonder. His voice comes out a bit scratchy, all sticky with affection.
“I think you’ve had me the whole time.”
It’s the honest truth. You’re not even mad about lost time because when he kisses you again like that, there’s no doubt that now? He’s all yours.
#DELICIO#two mutual pining besties sitting in the back of the theatreeeeee#k i s s i n g#this. i want this. i need this to happen to me#somebody SMOOCH me in ze theatre STAT#ruby writes steve#ruby's very own tour of hawkins#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve x reader#steve harrington blurb#stevie blurb!#honestly might tag this as a fic lmao#steve harrington fic#steve harrington x you#wahooooo
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I really do get ideas from the most random shit lol.
Heads up: Han Jisung x Fem! Reader, established relationship but it's relatively new, both Jisung and Reader are anxious messes, first time spending the night together, oh no! Reader has nothing to wear other than a skimpy nightgown, dry humping/grinding, cumming while still clothed (both Jisung and Reader), making out, very mild dirty talk and pretty fluffy overall I'd say. This is probably the tamest piece I've written so far.
I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.
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The hours seemed to tick by so quickly when you and Jisung were together. He'd come over earlier in the day so the two of you could spend time catching up on your favourite animes together. Him having a rare day off for once. However, both of you hadn't been keeping track of time and before you knew it, it was well into the night.
"You can sleepover, if you want to," you blurt, your mouth taking action completely without your brain's consent. You and Jisung hadn't slept over at each other's places yet. So, this felt like a pretty big step in your relationship. You know it doesn't need to be a big deal but, you can't help the way your heart races as you wait for his response.
"I don't want to inconvenience you..." he trails off. You can feel him tense up a little bit behind you, the arm that wrapped around you while the two of you spooned now feeling more rigid.
"Jisung, you wouldn't be an inconvenience. I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't sure," you respond, soothingly rubbing his forearm. And you meant it. Sure, the offer had clumsily come tumbling out but, you did genuinely feel comfortable with Jisung spending the night.
"I- okay. It is pretty late and I don't want to take any risks trying to head back to the dorms," he finally says, relenting.
"You can take a shower if you want to and use my skincare stuff. There should be a spare toothbrush in the bottom cabinet of my sink too. Just let me know if you need anything," you say, turning to face him. Resisting the urge to press your lips to his unfairly appealing ones. There is a faint blush on his face as he nods at your words, only adding fuel to the fire stirring up inside of you. However, you don't want to make him uncomfortable. The two of you have made out pretty intensely before with some heavy petting and groping thrown in but, you haven't gone much further than that yet. Always weary of potentially crossing any lines. So, you simply watch your boyfriend head to your bathroom affectionately, dutifully ignoring the dull ache between your thighs.
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It's when you're standing in your bathroom after having finished taking a shower and completing your skincare routine that it dawns on you how much you've just fucked up.
Most of your pajamas are currently in your laundry basket waiting to be washed. You've been so occupied with university and finishing off the semester that you've unfortunately allowed your laundry to pile up.
The problem?
All you have to wear is a skimpy, little, red nightgown that barely covers your ass, your breasts almost spill out of and that acts as a second skin with how tightly it clings to you. You can feel the warmth flood your face as you hold the soft, cotton garment in your hands.
You love this nightgown. It's one of your sexiest pieces and does wonders for your confidence but, you weren't exactly planning to wear it the very first night Jisung was sleeping over.
God, it really was going to pan out like you were trying to seduce him, isn't it?
You can't go out there naked either. That's significantly worse. You really should make it a point to remain ontop of chores even during the worst times of the semester.
Taking a deep breath, you slip the familiar gown on. Scrutinising your reflection in your bathroom mirror for a moment. Honestly, you looked pretty good. Skin glowing from the extra care you'd taken tonight, the gown heavily accentuating your breasts and contrasting prettily with your skin tone. Doesn't hurt that you smell great too.
Maybe seducing Jisung wouldn't be the worst idea after all, you muse briefly.
Steeling your resolve, you head for the bathroom door.
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"Hey, so I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything but, I don't think I'd be comfortable sleeping in my sweats. I'll keep my shirt and boxers on if that's okay-"
Jisung's words die on his tongue when he sees you.
He's never seen so much of you all at once and, he's not sure what to do and where it is and isn't okay to look. His brain shutting down and leaving him to flounder.
The nightgown you're wearing just barely reaches the tops of your phenomenal thighs and, fuck, the way it hugs your hips and tits? The blood in Jisung's body is fast moving south.
"That's okay. Sorry, all my other pajamas aren't clean right now so, this is all I had left," you say bashfully and, your shyness just makes Jisung want to kiss you and make you cum on his cock more.
"Uh it's okay. This was pretty spur of the moment. You don't need to um apologise," he stammers out, cringing internally at the shakiness of his voice.
The soft smile you shoot him isn't exactly helping his brain remember how to function.
"Okay. We should probably head to bed though. It's already pretty late. You can just put your sweats on my desk chair," you say, turning to switch off the light. Since you prefer to sleep with your curtains not drawn, there's still enough light from outside for Jisung to navigate his way to your chair without making an even bigger fool out of himself.
His heart is in his throat when he turns back to face your bed and finds you already in it, getting comfortable.
Jisung knows that this is completely normal. Couples sleep over at each other's places. Couples sometimes share beds while one half is wearing a skimpy nightgown that makes her tits look extremely appealing and barely reaches her thighs. Totally nothing to be stressed about. Totally.
"Jisung? Everything okay?" Your question and the slight concern in your voice snap him out of his thoughts. Jisung feels disgusted with himself. Here you are offering him your bed for the night because you were worried about him going home so late and he thanks you with what? Fantasising about having sex with you? He feels no better than some hormonal teenager.
"Yeah, sorry. Just got distracted. Be there in a second," he says hurriedly, anxious steps carrying him to the unoccupied side of your bed and he slips under the blanket.
You're both silent for some time. The air feeling tense and unbearable awkward. Jisung is making sure to stay as close to the edge as possible. Keeping a good amount of distance between your body and his. He's got this. He's just going to go to sleep. No problem.
"J-Jisung,"
"Yeah?"
"Can we- would you- would you be okay with cuddling?" You ask after a beat, voice sounding small and shy.
Maybe Jisung does not have this.
Don't get him wrong, Jisung loves cuddling with you. It's easily in his top 5 favourite activities of all time. However, cuddling with you right has his face warming up and his hands sweating. God, how was he going to get through this?
"Sure, I'd love to," and Jisung does mean that, nerves and all.
You shift to move closer to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and shifting your leg to rest it over one of his own. This isn't an unusual position for the two of you to find yourselves in but, Jisung hesitates to put his hands on you. However, he doesn't want to give you any reason to worry or catch a glimpse into his overthinking brain so he tentatively grasps your thigh.
"I'm glad we got to spend the day together. I've really missed spending time with you," you mutter quietly, nuzzling into his neck and squeezing him just the slightest bit tighter.
Jisung is half convinced this is all just a scheme to make his heart combust.
"Me too. I've missed you a fucked tonne too," he says, giving your thigh an affectionate squeeze in return. Trying his utmost to ignore your breaths against his neck.
"Is it okay if I kiss you?" You ask, fingers drawing lazy patterns on the fabric of your shirt. You studiously avoid Jisung's gaze as you wait for his response.
Well fuck. What's Jisung going to do? Say no? Of course not.
"S-sure," he whispers, hoping against hope you don't see the blush he knows is colouring his face.
His breath hitches when your hand comes up to cup his face, gently turning him towards you. You press your lips against his own softly, pressing tentative kisses to his mouth and Jisung happily reciprocates. However, beginning to feel a little bit...impatient, he decides to deepen the kiss.
Very quickly the two of you find yourselves making out intensely. Heat and desire coiling dangerously in Jisung's gut with ever moan and whine you let out against his lips. He's not sure what spurs him on, maybe it's the months of unaddressed want but, he rolls you onto your back. Coming to rest between your thighs and looking down at your startled face.
A cool bucket of dread is dumped on his previously, heated want and he moves to get off of you.
"Sorry. I didn't- I didn't mean to go too far. Fuck, I'm really sorry-"
"Hey woah Jisung, it's fine. I was just a little surprised is all. I'm...okay with going further if you want to too,"
Your words act as match to reignite the embers of desire in his system. Rather than answering you verbally, Jisung chooses to instead return to his previous position and press a bruising kiss to your lips. His hands moving to grip both of your thighs tightly and, wrap them around his waist as he begins to grind his erection against you through your respective layers.
The dam has broken.
You seem to be getting off to this just as much as he is if the volume and frequency of your mewls and moans are anything to go by. Your own hands fisting the back of his shirt while you two grind against each other. Kisses turning sloppy and uncoordinated as you both finally allow yourselves to let go.
"Fuck, you sound so pretty. I've wanted to have you like this for fucking ages," he says against your mouth, pressing a surprisingly soft kiss to the corner of your mouth before moving to your neck.
"M-Me too. Wanted you so bad too, Sungie," the admission coupled with your pet name for him makes him grind against you particularly hard. He's more than certain he's found your clit and plans to use that knowledge to his advantage. The high pitched keen you let out pushes Jisung to repeat the movement. Over and over and over again until he feels your wetness leaking onto his boxers.
"You're so fucking hot. Are you gonna cum just from some grinding, baby?" He asks inbetween pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against your neck. Paying special attention to the spots that gain him shudders and deeper fingernail scratches on his back through the fabric of his shirt.
"S-Sungie, don't tease," you pout and, fuck are you cute. To be fair, Jisung isn't fairing any better. His cock is probably the hardest it's ever been in his life and his boxers are sticky with his pre-cum. He doesn't have much room to talk but, you don't need to know that.
"You get so cute and shy when I tease you though," he says with a grin, grazing his teeth on your pulse. The way you moan and arch against makes his hips move against yours faster, pressing his own noises of pleasure into your neck.
Knowing you're enjoying this as much as he is, both from your sounds and the wetness he can feel even through two layers, is quickly hurdling him towards climax. Feeling your ridiculously soft tits and hardened nipples isn't particularly helpful either. Jisung makes a mental note to bury his face in them until he can't breathe for next time when you two aren't so desperate and needy.
Right now all he's too focused on how good you feel like this.
When Jisung cums, he's disappointed but, not exactly surprised. He could feel it building for some time but, he hoped his body didn't hate him enough to cum just from some grinding and dry humping. The way he whines against you and shudders in your arms is likely a dead give away that he's come too. However, before he can throw a pity party for himself and spiral into self-deprecation, he notices your moans have gotten louder.
Pulling back to look directly at your face, he's greeted with perhaps the most erotic image he's ever seen. Your eyes are shut and your mouth is shaped into a blissful O. He also realises that your thighs have clamped around him and your grip on his shirt is even harsher than before. However, it's the noticeable gush of wetness against his boxers that finally clues Jisung into what's happened.
You came.
Well, if he hadn't cum moments ago, this probably would've done it.
All he can do is stare at you in awe while you both attempt to catch your breaths, your eyes still shut as you come back down from wherever you ascended to.
"You came?" He asks, still a little stunned by the whole ordeal.
You slowly crack your eyes open to meet his own and he resists the violent urge that arises to kiss you when he sees how dazed you are.
"Y-Yeah, you were just so hot when you came that I think my body just kind of snapped,"
"You didn't think that was...pathetic?"
Your eyes soften at his words, "Of course not, Jisung. I'd never think you were pathetic for that. It's the opposite actually. I think it's really hot. I mean, I did eventually cum because I realised you did," you say with a lazy smile, all warm and affectionate and completely sincere.
This time Jisung does kiss you, albeit not heatedly.
"As much as I'm enjoying this, my panties are starting to stick to me in a very not fun way and I imagine your boxers aren't fairing any better."
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⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞
After a bad night, you convalesce your slumber into the living room, only, when you awoke, something precious awaited you.
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈
☤ Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕
☤ 770
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔
☤ Tooth rotting fluff
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆
☤ I think Buck and Peanut are quickly becoming one of my favourites.
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎
☤ j's lullaby by Delaney Bailey
჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔
☤ @allcapsbingo 𝗜𝟱 — Leaving Notes
— Masterlist
☤ @anyfandomfluffbingo 𝗡𝟱 — Love Letter
— Masterlist
𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, 𝐒𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Sleep was a fickle thing – it ebbed and flowed worse than the high tide of the ocean, and it was just as inescapable and destructive. The nature of sleep, for you, had always been something that was indescribable, more so for the very fact that it was just something that never cooperated.
Insomnia was a beast that could never be tamed and as a result, you were left battle worn and weary every time the sun rose to start a new day.
It did not stop the earth from turning, nor did it freeze the hours of the day; no matter how far behind you were or how much of a wrung out sponge you felt like.
Bucky knew this. He had watched you struggle through yawns wider than the grand canyon and he had stuck by you when you were too exhausted to even leave your bed – bringing you a manner of all things that you needed to at least get the energy to sit up. And it was never a big deal if you couldn’t, he was there, soothing words and gentle touches in abundance.
Last night was one of the worst ones yet. You had lain awake, tossing and turning in the covers of your bed while Bucky tried his best to get you to settle until he himself had fallen asleep. In no way did you begrudge him that, either. Bucky had a job, one of which demanded all of his energy and focus to save lives.
The early hours sought no relief, so you conceded defeat and rose quietly, taking your phone with you to the living room where the couch would have to be in the way of a bed. Blankets and pillows were more than readily available, so you piled a couple onto one end of the couch and began to set up your makeshift bed; sure to keep silent, lest you wake him up.
You settled in under the fluffy, soft blankets, and sighed heavily as you stared at the wall opposite the couch. Picture frames covered the wall; memories of all the times passed where you felt human, and less like a walking zombie.
Days, hours later, you couldn’t tell or make sense of it, you opened your eyes to find the curtains and blinds still drawn. You blinked and rubbed your eyes from the remnants of sleep, then looked around. The bedroom door was open, the room dark, and the kitchen was bright with sunlight – the only source of natural light that you could discern.
“How long did I sleep for,” you mumbled and sat up, a grimace of pain twisted your mouth into a deep frown. “Hell–Bucky, his lunch–?”
You glanced around again and spotted a tray on the blanket box. A plate of food sat on one side while a bowl of cereal on the other, and in the middle, a tall glass of water next to a steaming mug. “Wha–?”
Leaning closer, you found a piece of paper from the notepad on the kitchen bench tucked under the plate. Loopy handwriting was half visible – Bucky’s neat script. You gently pulled it free, unfolded it, and lay back down.
It was a small note, one that wasn’t hastily rushed and written if you could judge by the neatness of the script, and the way his love seemed to pour into every line and drip of ink. You smiled as you read each line, the swoop of your heart making you breathless.
Peanut, baby,
I couldn’t wake you up, you looked so sweet. I know it’s been really hard these past few days especially, but I just need you to know that I’m here. No matter what. I always have been, and I always will be.
I know you’re tired, and I know you’re exhausted, but you still keep fighting.
My warrior. My hero – that’s what you are.
They say that those of us on the front lines are the ones that need to be honoured and worshipped and called the heroes. I think they are wrong.
It’s you. You’re the one that needs to be called a hero, ‘cos heroes never give up even when they’re facing the hardest trials, and all that shit.
Just… Baby, you know I could never not love you. You are too entangled into my soul, who I am, that I just can’t. You are always with me. And I’m so fucking happy that I get to call you mine.
I will see you when I get home tonight, alright? Enjoy breakfast and make sure to keep up your fluids, please.
Your Bucky.
⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑 ⠄⠂⠁
⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁
#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky x f!reader#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes drabble#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes fluff#allcapsbingo2023#rookthorne's works
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Hello! So I'm new to your blog and I have to say that I LOVE it already, keep it up! :D
I don't rlly know if you're taking requests rn, but oh well, worth a shot. Can I request some platonic or romantic (it doesn't rlly matter) hcs with TADC Caine? I just can't get over this silly man and I'd like to read more about him!
Hi!! Yes, requests are open! (I should probably specify that - sorry!)
Also tysm!! It's so nice to hear that someone likes my blog <3
A/N: I've never written for the silly teeth man before, but his personality came really easily to me - for some reason. Of course, as usual, these are all my personal headcanons for him, so please please please don't get mad at me if I 'got something wrong'. And also, this is written with afab reader in mind, but it can apply for any gender reader you like, as no pronouns or specific descriptions are used!
Warnings: Mentions of smut, and smutty activities. Apart from that, nothing but pure fluff and showman-style romance!
Romantic Headcanons for Caine!
(I couldn't think of anything I could write for platonic, I'm a lot better at romantic-)
Starting off, I definitely think that Caine is a romantic type. (What showman wouldn't be?)
Caine would favour you over all the other circus members, and deny it if he gets called out.
He would exempt you from adventures that you don't want to do, and instead take you out for a fancy candlelit meal at the digital restaurant shown in the pilot.
Think fancy wines, lavish suits or dresses, romantic jazz music played by a digital band, and candles. Tons and tons of candles just floating while you two eat the best digital food of your life.
And dessert? Angle Food Cake of course, made specially by him or bubble.
You'd dance to the music, ballroom style, with a few dips and extra special moves included.
Every time you would go out with him, he'd give you a gift. Maybe a fancy brooch, or a piece of jewellery encrusted with jewels and plated by gold.
Fancy outfits are also to be expected.
You'd be given the luxury of a larger, more secluded bedroom as well!
The bed would be adorned with silk sheets and a bed canopy, most likely in red to remind you of him.
And I'm not sure if you want nsfw, but the nights you guys would spend in that bed would be fun, to say the least.
He'd happily indulge whatever you're into. Ai's are always wanting to learn new things, after all.
He'd spoil you rotten, both in bed and out.
When it comes to affection, he's a good mix of a lot of different types of affection.
As stated above, he's a gift giver, but also big on acts of service.
He's a big believer in words of affirmation, but not too often. Don't wanna give you an ego. (Although with the way he treats you, I feel like you would already have one depending on your personality)
He would love calling you pet names. Traditional ones are his favourite, like darling, honey, lovely, dove, doll, etc.
When it comes to physical affection, he'd probably draw the line at holding hands and cuddles. Heck, even cuddles would be a bit too far sometimes. Maybe just an arm swung over your shoulder when you're watching a movie? Sure... you can lean into him as well, just not too far, okay?
And kisses are... a challenge. Depending on how you look in the digital world, kisses may be manageable. He has no lips over his teeth though, so if you really want to kiss him... uh, try your best. (Maybe just kiss his teeth?)
He'd definitely get flustered if you initiate anything or give him a gift, though.
Like he'd be all confident one second, and the next he'd be flustered and stuttering at your kindness.
He would also display your gift with pride for the whole circus to see!
That's the only thing the circus members'll see, though.
Caine would be fine being affectionate with you in private (if not too much) but in front of the others the furthest he would go when it comes to affection is pet names, or maybe flashing you a wink.
Not that the others really care though. I feel like they'd all be pretty indifferent to it, no matter how much affection you guys show.
If you bug him about it, he'd probably give in. Eventually.
AAA I'm so sorry I took so long! Home life has been crazy, but I don't really see that as an excuse-
And I hope you see this and like it! (And I'm also sorry it's a bit short-)
-Galaxy
#Caine x reader tadc#caine x reader#tadc x reader#tadc caine#caine#the amazing digital circus caine#the amazing digital circus#caine x you
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Quote 1: "Teammates!? Friends!? To hell with that! Why am I inferior to you!? I was extremely particular about my life, my grades, my public image! So someone would want me around! I am an ace detective! A celebrity! But you… You're just some criminal trash living in an attic!? So how!? How does someone like you have things I don't!? How can such a worthless piece of trash be more special than me!?" - Goro Akechi, Persona 5
Quote 2: "I want you to live." - Charlotte Wiltshire, Hello Charlotte Series
Propganda:
Quote 1: THE VOICE ACTING! MY GOD THE VOICE ACTING! Ok im gonna try and keep this short but this is by far my favourite Akechi moment in the whole game. Akechi is one of my favourite characters in all of Persona but I HATED him before this, like full out despied him. But this whole monologue changed my mind. He is so broken and just wants to have a normal life but that has all been robbed from him because of Shido. He has nothing. He is nothing. He is holding on to those last strands of his previous life because it was all fake so how could it be wrong? How could something he put so much work into being perfect not be right? Ok I gotta stop but PLEASE listen to the clip (link). - Mod Chaos
Quote 2: (Link to Post this is from) "I want you to live." It's one of my favorite lines in Hello Charlotte. I find it very powerful and it's because of how extremely selfish and honest it is. By saying that you want someone to live, you're not trying to convince them that living is a good idea. You're not trying to change their mind and make them want to keep living. It's not saying empty words about how every life is precious and that there is hope for everyone. The reason why you tell them to keep going is because you simply want them to. It's your seflish wish, extremely selfish. Who are you to tell someone that they should live just because you want to? You have no right to decide that they should live. You won't be the one who will have to deal with the things they will go through if they stay alive. But you still ask them to live. Not for the world, not for themselves but for you. I think that is the beauty of this sentence. - Written by @/kingarubin, post submitted by anon
#polls#tumblr polls#tournament poll#tournament polls#game quote showdown#persona#persona 5#goro akechi#akechi goro#hello charlotte#charlotte wiltshire
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TTPD First Thoughts PART 1
Some thoughts on the songs that I’ve processed so far. Open to conversation if I’ve missed anything, as always.
So Long, London
Throwbacks to YLM (stopped CPR /Can’t find a heartbeat)
He/You pronouns – different people! He: JA, You: swifties
Most of the song is a goodbye to swifties and connects to YLM
-> “And you say I abandoned the ship, But I was going down with it"/ “before I'd self-implode/ before I'd have to go be free?”
-> “Had a good run” = Long Live (“Had the time of my life with you”)
But Daddy I Love Him
This is the best satire song since London Boy!
Tell me you have religious trauma….
DRAG THE HETLORS 🙌
I have actually danced to this song while making dinner today, so I think it qualifies as upbeat
“all you want is grey for me” vs screaming colour
Did she confirm she eloped while in the UK? Or is that part of the story? What do others think?
Fresh Out the Slammer
This seems like a counter piece to Ready for it…?
He/you pronouns, music changes with the pronouns: verses very static, chorus very soft and melodic (now, pretty baby)
On the line “now I’m running” the tempo changes and the music noticeable changes pace (is this the future that hasn't happened yet?)
“wearing imaginary rings/ but it’s okay, I did my time” -> time for real rings?
Does the outro sound like the into to YAIL…? Or am I crazy?
Guilty as Sin?
Tell me you have religious trauma…..(yes again)
False God 2.0!
“the way you hold me is actually what’s holy” = “religion’s in your lips”
I’ve seen people say this is sexier than Dress, I’d say it’s more vulnerable than Dress but it’s certainly very sexy and VERRRY sapphic! (was I the only one who thought that when she says ‘what if (s)he’s written mine on my upper thigh…’ the ‘with her tongue’ was implied??🤭)
Who’s afraid of little old me?
This is my favourite so far, absolutely awesome, lyrically and musically! Would have made it even eerier, love how the anger and threat comes through in the music
Everyone who has ever wronged her, lock your doors, she’s coming for you!
Standout lines:
“I was tame, I was gentle” -> “I’m so very tame now” (That was never a good thing! She was forced into obedience)
“Don’t you worry, folks, we took out all her teeth” 👀
“So all you kids can sneak into my house with all the cobwebs” I lived when I heard this line! Those shitty secret session kids that came away as crusaders for her straightness… they never saw her real house, of course they didn’t. lol 😂
Loml
This is about two different things/people – we vs you
1st verse: Karlie / 2nd verse: Scott (B or S/both?)
Bridge connects the two: “You shit-talked me under the table…” You promised me we could come out… “I wish I could un-recall how we almost had it all” So close, but coming out failed… “What a bland goodbye/ The coward claimed he was a lion” Scott’s last act of power over Taylor was to sell the masters. She’d already left BM, that was all he had left. The relationship was already rocky but that broke it. He was like a father to her, and then he chose the timing and buyer knowing what it would do to her. Here is where the two verses come together: “Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire/ Your arson’s match, your somber eyes”. You destroyed our dreams of being free. And now she’s questioning all he ever said “I’m combing through the braid of lies” (btw this is also mentioned in the Smallest Man “was any of it true… was rusting my sparkling summer the goal?”) And all that together is of course the loss of her life. Not a person, everything that happened that summer.
I Can Do it With A Broken Heart
This is insane! A song about suicidal levels of depression as a fun bop??
The fact that there is (what I assume) real Eras tour noises and the count-ins from her in-ear-monitors in the background makes me want to throw up.
Way to say all that hyper-fame is killing me…
“I cry a lot but I am so productive” well, in that case 🤷🏼♀️
The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived
This links to the second part of loml (see above)
"I would've died for your sins, instead, I just died inside"/ "And I'll forget you, but I'll never forgive" -> get f**ked Scott
Clara Bow
Gaylors did endless research on Clara Bow, only for her to be mentioned once 😂
Title is a bait and switch, it's not about her... or any woman in the industry, it's about the wheel of interchangeable women who will get told that they're the greatest until they're not.
Almost all the lines are quotes -> what people will say about them
It ends in the future: someday another young artist will be compared to Taylor... the wheel continues
most harrowing line: "it's hell on earth to be heavenly" 😥😥
The end of the bridge sounds musically similar to epiphany. And I think that's quite telling given that epiphany is about living through unspeakable hardship. And I remembered that Taylor mashed up epiphany with mirrorball in one of the last eras tour shows...
Thank you to the awesome person who explained The Alchemy, it makes me like it a lot better and makes total sense to be from Karlie's POV. This had to be something about the golden muse, right ;) I'm excited about this as a future plan (also very similar to the end of FOTS of how she's coming home to their house) and have some thoughts for another day of how this might play out in the light of what we've been told in 🎃 messages.
Ok, that's the first part for now, because I need to go to bed. Can anybody throw me some ideas for Florida and I Can Fix Him? I'm not really getting anywhere with these at the moment... And totally coming up blank for Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus if anyone has any good interpretations. Part 2 tomorrow!
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fatima aamer bilal, from my heart has claws.
[text id: now what am i supposed to do with my hands if i can’t hold yours?”]
#my favourite lines from the pieces i have written so far#poeticstories#poetry#book quotations#quotes#literature#literary#dark academia#prose#poem#sad thoughts#writers and poets#writing#sylvia plath#franz kafka#tumblr diary#fiction#bts#taylor swift#art#lana del rey#lyrics#excerpts from my journal#pheobe bridgers#poets corner#typography#writerscreed#autumn#october#love
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I had asked for fic prompts for Sanji's birthday and @woodenela had suggested "maybe Sanji cooking some North Blue dishes? Either his favourite for himself or something Sora liked" and "some good old straw hats pampering Sanji on his birthday despite him fighting it tooth and nail" so I kind of...combined those and came up with this!
(And I didn't quite make it for his birthday but I hope you enjoy regardless... No pairings, just Strawhat-centric fluff, set at some point shortly before the time-skip)
A frustrated shout from the galley was what greeted her as she pushed the door open, and while that level of volume on the ship wasn’t necessarily abnormal, usually Luffy was somehow involved and Nami had seen him a mere five seconds earlier tinkering with one of Usopp’s inventions so she knew he couldn’t be the culprit this time.
The sight of Sanji hunched over the table, running one hand through his hair with enough fervor to completely tousle the golden strands, was far more unnerving than if Luffy had managed to sneak into the fridge again.
“Sanji-kun?”
“Ah, Nami-san!” he sat up immediately, his face brightening, but it still lacked the normal enthusiasm he would typically address her with. “Do you need something from me, my darling?”
“I was just coming in to grab some water…”
She barely had the words out before he was zooming past her, and the protest that she could have gotten it herself died in her throat when she saw what was on the table.
It was a piece of paper, a hastily-scrawled list of ingredients and a few haphazard star-shaped drawings littering the sheet, and somehow she knew that this was the cause of Sanji’s emotional outburst.
And while she doubted that asking about it would result in any kind of a straight answer, that wasn’t going to stop her from trying.
“What are you working on?”
“Oh! Ah…” Sanji paused, fingers gripping the edge of the countertop like a lifeline. “Just coming up with some new recipes! Nothing you need to worry yourself with, my dear!”
“Okay,” she decided to let the subject drop, though she didn’t believe him for a second.
-
“He’s from the North Blue, right?” Usopp tilted his head, trying to decipher the words written on the page.
“Why is that important?” Nami was shuffling through books in the library, the pile beside her increasing in size as she quickly discarded almost every one that she opened.
“Well, his birthday’s tomorrow,” Usopp replied, idly scratching his nose. “Maybe it’s some sort of traditional dish? Or something he remembers from his childhood?”
“His birthday?” Nami stopped stripping the shelves of all their books and blinked at him. “How do you know?”
“He mentioned it once and that’s the sort of thing I remember,” Usopp leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. “We do talk, you know.”
“Right,” she heaved a sigh and dropped down beside him. “Okay. We’re set to make landfall in the morning, so what are the chances we can pull this off?”
“Well, it’s not really complete,” Usopp went back to looking at the sheet. “But this combination of spices can’t be that common. If we could just find a reference that’s close…”
“Usopp, you’re brilliant! I’ll talk to Robin,” Nami snatched up the sheet and zoomed away, leaving Usopp to realize in slowly-dawning horror that it was now apparently his responsibility to put the books away in the same order she’d removed them.
-
Robin wasn’t exactly expecting the local Grand Line bookstore to have a book specifically on North Blue cuisine, but the employees were decidedly unhelpful and couldn’t even point her in a useful direction so she was stuck scouring the shelves by herself.
Since Nami’s search of the library had been fairly fruitless (and Sanji would have likely started there anyway), she’d volunteered to do some research while the rest of the crew kept Sanji thoroughly distracted until dinnertime.
They’d managed to come up with a decently long list of spices from the outline Sanji had provided, and Robin’s best guess was that it was meant for some sort of stew or curry.
Luckily, the shop did have books on that, but she was running out of time and--after a quick glance to make sure the shopkeeper was otherwise distracted--using her abilities to page through several books at once seemed like the best option.
She was about halfway through a rather dense edition entitled Stews of the Four Blues when a page with a photo of star anise caught her attention, and thinking back it did bear a striking resemblance to the doodles that Sanji had added to the original sheet…almost like he was trying to picture that exact page in his mind’s eye.
The rest of the spices lined up as well, and given the time…
Well, they’d have just long enough to get it ready before dinner.
-
“I can take those.”
“You what?”
“The bags, idiot,” Zoro immediately regretted his choice of words because Nami had made it clear they had to be nice to the cook today, but that wasn’t exactly his normal way of interacting with him.
“Why?” Sanji took a step back, immediately suspicious, and Zoro briefly considered knocking him out with the hilt of one of his swords and dragging the bags away by force but that seemed like the opposite of ‘being nice’ so he quickly dismissed it.
“I’m going back to the ship anyway,” he tapped the toe of his boot against the ground. “I need a drink and I don’t have enough extra money to buy more booze.”
“Well, I’m not buying you any, so whatever you drink you’ll have to replace,” Sanji still wasn’t passing over the damn bags and Zoro was reaching the end of his patience.
“Yeah, yeah,” Zoro held out his hand and Sanji slowly--eventually--handed them over, prompting Zoro to make a hasty retreat so as to avoid prolonging the conversation any more than it already had been.
Nami owed him big time for this.
-
“Saaaaaaanji! Food!” Luffy wasn’t exactly a master of distraction, but all Nami had told him was to keep Sanji away from the ship and lunch seemed like a great way to do that.
He launched himself at Sanji, wrapping him up in a rubbery hug.
“Food! Food! Food!”
“Okay; okay,” Sanji had been looking at a stall selling some fresh fruit but he staggered awkwardly away with Luffy still wrapped around him. “Can’t you bug Usopp or something?”
“He’s busy,” Luffy pouted, and honestly, he was pretty proud of his acting job right now.
“You’re paying for your own food,” was all Sanji said, and Luffy finally unwound himself enough to grab Sanji’s hand and lead him in a direction that he hoped was away from the ship.
Mission complete.
-
“Hey, Sanji-bro!”
“Franky?”
And okay, maybe Franky shouldn’t have just stopped in front of him since walking into a wall of metal would knock anyone back, but he managed to catch Sanji before he landed ass-first on the pavement.
“You busy?”
“Not exactly, but I was…”
“Cool! You know how to play guitar, right?” Franky had seen him plucking away at his guitar more than a few times when he was sure Sanji didn’t think anyone was looking, and the flush on his pale cheeks only confirmed what he already knew.
“I mean, I…”
“Nah, don’t worry about it!” Franky clapped him on the shoulder, again realizing that any normal human would probably be thrown off-balance by the force of his hand and hauling Sanji back to his feet. “Found a music shop and I was looking at grabbing some new strings. Wanna come with?”
“Sure?” Sanji still seemed more confused than anything, but he didn’t protest, so Franky guided (see: probably pushed too hard again) him into the shop.
-
“Sanji-san!”
“Hey, Brook,” Sanji walked over, the slightest slump to his shoulders the only indication that his energy was low. “What’s up?”
“Nothing to worry about! I just discovered a lovely tea shop around the corner, and since you’re one of the only people on this crew that appreciates a good cup of tea, I was wondering if you’d like to join me?” he half-bowed, extending a skeletal hand in the direction of the shop.
And Sanji looked…relieved, almost, which made Brook wonder what sort of ‘distractions’ the rest of the crew had tried to implement.
Still, there wasn’t anything inherently stressful about drinking tea, so he was sure Sanji would be able to relax for the next little while.
“Yeah. Thanks,” Sanji smiled at him, hands stuffed in his pockets as he followed Brook to the shop.
-
“You’re sure I can grind all of these?”
“Yep!” Nami had the book open on the table, reaching to tie her hair back while she studied the recipe. “Some of them have to go in whole but all of those should be good to go.”
“Okay!” Chopper grinned, happy that he could use at least a bit of his medical knowledge to help out here. Sure, it wasn’t exactly the same, but he knew how to use a mortar and pestle and he wanted to join in as soon as he heard Nami’s plan.
Usopp was working on the rice and Robin seemed to be generally supervising, and between the four of them Chopper knew they could pull this off.
He added the mixture of cardamom, peppercorns and fennel seeds to the mortar and set to work, determined to do a good job.
Sanji was going to love it.
-
It was nearing dinner by the time Sanji made it back to the ship, and while he hadn’t seen anyone from his crew since leaving the tea shop with Brook, they’d been unusually persistent all day and he was starting to wonder if something was up.
The galley lights being on only furthered those suspicions, and while his first instinct was to be annoyed that someone was invading his space without his permission, the smell wafting through the door was startlingly familiar and he had to clutch the door frame to keep his knees from getting weak when he realized what it was.
Because it was something he hadn’t smelled in over ten years, and before he could think to collect himself he was already pushing through the door, hands fumbling for his lighter because he really needed a cigarette right now.
The first breath he took once he was in the galley proper almost brought tears to his eyes, and he barely registered the joyful shouts of ‘Happy Birthday!’ or Luffy’s high-pitched explanation that there was cake, too, and flatbread but they didn’t make cake or the flatbread because ‘Nami said we couldn’t bake anything so we had to buy it and…’
“So who said you could use my kitchen?” he finally managed to clear his throat enough to talk, his voice noticeably shaky, but then he had to fend off Luffy, Usopp and Chopper from trying to tackle him and eventually he just gave up and let them drag him to the table.
“Sorry, Sanji-kun,” Nami looked a little sheepish. “Robin was overseeing things, though!”
“Ah, well, if there’s anyone I would trust in my domain, it’s my lovely ladies,” he was speaking almost on autopilot, his senses still overwhelmed, and if he closed his eyes he could imagine himself sitting at the table while his mom…
Yeah. Unless he wanted to start sobbing, maybe now wasn’t the best time to get lost in those particular memories.
“Thank you. It smells amazing,” he said honestly, leaning into Usopp when the sniper threw an arm around his shoulders, and he knew how lucky he was to have friends who were willing to do this just to make him happy.
Maybe he wasn’t ready to tell them everything yet--about how meals like this where his mom could prep in advance and let it cook on its own for a few hours were one of the only things she had energy for as her body continued to weaken--but that didn’t mean he was any less appreciative.
And maybe one day…
Well, maybe one day he’d be able to.
But for now, he could just enjoy the evening.
…After he reminded them that the star anise had to be removed before the dish could be served, of course.
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March Content Plans (Long Update)
As it is now the 25th here in frosty England, it has officially been 2 months since I published my first piece of fan fiction. In that time, I've released:
A one-shot containing my first ever attempt at both monster smut and an explicit F/F sex scene (which is currently my most popular work????)
A low angst (I know, I can't believe it either) romantic one-shot from the POV of a golden retriever
4 chapters of an emotionally intense story that is so far from my usual writing style I have to re-read earlier chapters to remind myself how to write it (a deliberate stylistic choice but boy, am I paying for it)
3 chapters of what was meant to be a fun side project and is quickly turning into something deep and dark and wonderful in its own right
All in all, that's 4 bodies of work spanning 57.7k words released over a period of 9 weeks (not including the 15-20k which got rewritten / replaced / outright cut). Which is, for me, insane. It's also a pace that I won't be able to maintain going forward, so for the sake of setting expectations (my own, more than anyone else's), here's the current plan for March:
The Monsters At My Side And In My Shadow Ch 1-3 update
Given that this has gone from "werewolf smut hiding in a multi-chapter fic" to "multi-fic exploration of abuse with a healthy dollop of smut", I want to revise what's already been released to better align with what I have going forward. There won't be any plot / event changes, scenes that get altered will be getting either an expansion or a rewrite, depending on the work needed (which will include adding more smut-adjacent content because it's currently lacking and I want it to be better).
Untitled - An Ember POV Story to Celebrate 1yr Since The Bees Kissed (March 25th)
@reeves3 put the idea in my head and now I have a collection of outlines covering various points in Yang and Blake's relationship all told from the perspective of the Best Girl. They won't come out in chronological order as I'm looking to line them up with various events, but the current plan is that March 25th will cover the introduction of a new member into the Xiao Long-Belladonna pack.
Additionally, I'd like to release the following chapters but I am forcing myself to accept that these will likely get bumped to April:
The Monsters At My Side And In My Shadow Ch 4
Shattered Divinity Ch 5
There's a few reasons for the (temporary) slowdown in content:
I am supposed to draft 1 - 3 OC novels this year (the mistake of mixing alcohol with an empty resolutions boards and the word "bet") and I need to dedicate more time than I have done to those projects to have any hope of doing that.
Rather than wait for the fan fic writer's curse to hit, I've gone and done it to myself by buying my first house. The offer got accepted yesterday, so now I have to deal with the joys of legal and financial paperwork. And start prepping for a move. And every other stressful time consuming thing that comes from this period.
Don't get me wrong, I am fucking ecstatic, not least because it means me having an actual bedroom for the first time in almost 4 years, but the next steps are going to take a chunk out of my usual writing time.
@kaelidascope is about to drop a veritable feast of content.
Look, I'm not subtle about how much I enjoy her work. She's my favourite fan fic writer. She's probably one of my favourite writers period on account of the emotional damage and veritable joy Mightnight Menagerie has brought me. And I'm not just saying this because she's been exceptionally complimentary of my own work (which, by the way, I am still freaking out over). She is one of the main reasons I started writing fan fiction. If it wasn't for the original Beestfic, I'd never have written The Hunt. Which means I'd never have had the concept ideas that initially led to starting The Monsters At My Side And In My Shadow, and without that fic, I wouldn't have had the 3 experimental scenes between Yang and her grimm which ended up inspiring the idea to write Best Laid Plans from Ember's POV.
So I will be setting aside some time (translation: every waking moment I have during release weekend) to thoroughly immerse myself in the relaunch.
Also there's two Menagerie chapters due and the previews are already threatening my analytics brain and unfortunately it takes time to launch that kind of assault on AO3's comment section.
So yeah. A few things going on in March.
I'm gonna try and do this as a rolling monthly thing going forward in lieu of trying to have a timed release schedule. Hopefully the April one will be a bit lot shorter.
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The Rejuvenation Theory by @welcomehomeincorrectquotes and @thatgayoctopus:
“It's a rejuvenator. Homeworld used to use these things on Gems that started steppin' out of line. One hit with this... you're back to how they made you.”
“Oh, my stars, I touched it! I could have lost all my character development!”
Hypothesis: Are the characters of Welcome Home getting reset to their “Factory Settings” whenever they stray from the show's intended script?
Evidence so far:
Bear in mind, we are still very early in the story so we are naturally missing a lot of the pieces of the puzzle and that, individually, the evidence doesn't mean much, but put it all together and I think we start to see a pattern.
Nosipho: Hiya Wally! You and your friends sure seem like a bunch of wonderful folks! What is your favourite memory with each of your friends?
Wally: No memory.
Oh dear, Wally scribbling himself out of that first sentence is not a good sign.
Barnaby: Hiya Howdy, I think we’re gonna enjoy ourselves the usual.
Howdy: A usual for my usuals? Coming right up, pal-ly!
Wally: The usual? I thought we were getting hotdogs.
Barnaby: That is our usual, little buddy, it means something you and I get all the time!
It could be that Wally is just unfamiliar with the saying “the usual”, but if this is something they do all the time, shouldn’t Wally already know this?
Eddie’s description: Despite having a written origin, Eddie had never stated the correct name of where he came from throughout the show's run. The running joke often had him stating a place that did not exist, followed by an admission to misremembering it as a place he delivered to as opposed to a place he lived.
This seems to go beyond being "forgetful". Not remembering where you're from is one thing, but mixing it up with somewhere you've visited is another.
Eddie: I’m starting to think nobody’s there… Wait… I can’t remember if the phone was ringing… Maybe I was going to make a phone call... But who would I call?
This gives me Dori vibes.
Wally: Aw. I wanted to learn the colours.
Frank: Wally, I think you already know the colours.
Wally: …I could hear them again.
This conversation reads to me as: "Wally, I've already taught you the colours." "...have you?"
And then there is this line in the letter from Frank to Wally:
Frank: *to Wally* I have found a new insect today. You remember what an insect is, don't you? It is a beautiful arthropod!
Why would Frank feel the need to ask Wally if he remembers what an insect is? Insects are Frank's whole schtick and Wally most certainly knows who his neighbours are! Does this happen often?
That's just what I've noticed so far! What do you think? Anything I missed?
#Eddie Dear#Wally Darling#Frank Frankly#Howdy Pillar#Barnaby B Beagle#Julie Joyful#Sally Starlet#Poppy Partridge#Home (Welcome Home arg)#welcome home puppet show#theory#welcome home theory
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Hi Jo!
'Arepas' has its Fan Fiction Birthday on 23rd April 🎂
Happy birthday!
Tell us something about that fic, anything you like, and we'll help blow out the candles and wish it many happy returns!
You can save this ask until the actual date or reply whenever you like.
happy birthday to arepas (I am doing this a few days early cause it’s on Tuesday and we know what day that is 👀)
but you’ll be proud, I took my own advice AND I’ve got some cake for it. raspberry ripple, if you wish to know.
warnings below: jo rambling, jo talking far too much, because if you ask me about a story I’m gonna talk and talk and talk and—
there’s so much I could say about this piece. I could bore you all by saying that it was the first jo-romance-thing I’d done in a long time (after a period of not being well and that I never thought I could), I could tell you that without it late night texts would never have been born or I could tell you that to this day it is one of my fave things I’ve written. but they’re all things I say a lot, to various people, even if not publicly.
so, thought I could share why I wrote it? and why I love it, maybe?
arepas was written because I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact javi cared about people. it was there, etched into my first viewing and confirmed in my second. and so, she was born. this woman that he’d notice (and want to flirt with) but eventually found something nicer. a piece of home away from his real home—a person who he could tell things to, like why he doesn’t like funerals and what his mom’s dishes taste like. things that aren’t romantic, but very much are. and that because of that, the two would have to find ways to not fall for one another more than they secretly already did.
because respect.
one of the main challenges I had with it is the edit. it was the biggest one shot I think I’d written and it was a monster to edit. some of the snippet convos between the scenes were actually scenes I condensed down into this format because even for me it was just so much. but, that felt like such a risk for me? would these little snippet of convos carry? but they did! and without that, I wouldn’t have had the confidence to try and do a text fic for LNT or DMY now.
one of my favourite things (outside of Steve, he was amazing in this) was the scene where javi realises she’s late and goes to find her. god I can picture it even now. him banging on her door fuelled with jealousy, and then this sheer amazement at her—an image that actually shifts him and renders him a bit useless for the briefing? because it’s not romantic, but it is. it’s the fact he’s gotten this piece of her he’s never asked for, but she felt so comfortable being like that around him, plus, the fact he already has feelings. it isn’t to do with what had been under her clothes, but the person he’s slowly become more comfortable with.
and then Steve being Steve is a highlight for me with the scene. him being so shocked that the two of them haven’t danced over the line continues to kill me.
god I love them.
in my head, they’re living their best life. likely gone back to Laredo, visit her folks too. maybe they’ve settled down somewhere. but I know in my heart they’re so happy.
also, for anyone wondering why I chose food as the code word—that’s a nod to my best friend, the man I married. a man who used to put up with me making up code words when we was friends to escape awkward parties or gatherings, and create code words in our early dating days and we was a secret. I believe in romance because of him, I believe in myself because of him and none of my writing, both what I’ve achieved and what I’m going to, would be without him.
thank you for allowing me to ramble and talk about things. I’m sorry it got so long.
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OKAY. slightly more comprehensive and hopefully more useful tips for writing qmariana because the other post i made was kinda a mess. this one also is but hopefully less so. this is basically me expounding upon everything i already said + adding info from a lot of the tags i got on the original post pointing out stuff i didn’t mention
also going to mention again that a lot of this IS related to slimeriana because that’s the main flavour of qsmp fics i read BUT they should all work as general pointers. slimeriana are just gonna end up as my go-to examples for what i’m talking about. and second disclaimer that i barely speak even basic spanish so there are probs gonna be even more things i may have missed or messed up, i’m forging through with the power of youtube auto translate
all that said, here:
he’s not great at speaking english —
it is okay to write a character not being good at speaking a language! i don’t know why everyone seems to be fine with writing charlie speaking broken spanish but not the other way around. so many times i’ve seen him written as speaking perfect english and then just sometimes swearing or having a few lines of dialogue in spanish, if even that. that is simply just not how he talks
common things i personally have noticed mariana does: repeats words, says words that sound similar to the one he wants but not Quite [think words that rhyme or have a similar sound to them, like nipples and pimples lol], he’ll often get frustrated and switch back to spanish and just rely on the translator, especially for longer or more complex sentences/statements, there’ll sometimes be pauses between words or he talks slowly. he tries his best to speak english around the english speaking server members but again, will also just speak spanish and use the translator if he’s gonna be talking a lot
other small things: he swears quite a bit, and has a few favourites [namely mamahuevo (eng equivalent is cocksucker) is the one that comes to mind. and i don’t feel like i’m writing this out correctly but also chinga tu madre (fuck you/fuck your mother? i think?). in english the first one that comes to mind is motherfucker]. also calls kids mami/papi a lot, not even just juanaflippa
he’s almost always written as either too nice OR too mean —
he’s not a one-dimensional piece of paper just there to either dote on slime or make his life hell. he jokes and teases and he has a bit of a harsh sense of humour sometimes, but he’s very rarely malicious in his actions. if he’s really in the wrong about something he’ll get defensive, but will eventually end up apologising
that said, again, he’s not always nice! he gives as good as he gets when slime picks fights with him, he and bobby had a very playfully antagonistic relationship as far as i could tell. it’s like picking playful fights is part of his love language
he was always very sweet to juanaflippa though :D except a few teasing jokes here and there. he was a good dad, besides the murder JHVSJD
speaking of his sense of humour —
it can be very… blunt? for lack of a better word? he says some bizarre shit with a completely straight face. best example i can think of is him suggesting he and charlie could play a porn game together because they wouldn’t have to talk. obviously that’s cc not character, but it carries over. or, alternatively, the circumcision bit on day 1. basically if u watch charlie more, look at his sense of humour and translate it into spanish — there’s a reason they get along so well :D zero normal people in this relationship. the most you’ll get is them occasionally passing the “straight man” role back and forth, getting bewildered at each other but ultimately going along with whatever the bit is
he’s not a cheater! —
i know. i know ppl like the angst. but he never actually cheated on slime, not beyond being kinda flirty with other men but then pulling back and saying he was married whenever they returned that energy. he’s a bitch, but a loyal one /silly
but seriously, qmariana loves his family so much. he always wanted things to work out between him and slime. the only mc skin of his that actually shows his hands has him wearing his wedding ring, for christs sake. he’s not an absentee father, and he’s not a cheater, he just likes to joke flirt with his friends
he’s very open about his emotions! —
i have never once known this man to hide his feelings or be stoic in any situation. if he’s sad he cries, if he’s angry or frustrated he yells and swears, if he’s happy he laughs. if you are writing mariana as a person to keep his feelings hidden you are Doing It Wrong. the most he might do is hide one emotion behind another, but he’s almost always showing something
he LOVES music —
this man will sing at any given opportunity. he quotes song lyrics out of nowhere constantly. english, spanish, doesn’t matter, he loves music. it is literally always worth it to have him singing a lullaby to juanaflippa in a fic because it is both very in character and very cute
#.txt#qsmp#qsmp mariana#there we gooooo#this is better#still open for people to add or correct things in the tags#i just wanted a better post for my own peace of mind
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