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#the writing on the bottom is my instagram handle since it was posted there first and im too lazy to edit it

sskim-milkk · 1 month

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Alright The Bad Batch is over and I have some THOUGHTS

Warning: spoilers (kinda) for the finale!

Wow, wow, wow! I watched the bad batch finale a few hours ago and have since been lost in thought about how CRAZY that finale was and what this show has come to mean to me over the past 3 or so years.

First of all, the finale was amazing. My friend and I had to pause multiple times to say WHAT THE HELL! I could not have imagined a better ending to it. The epilogue with older Hunter and Omega especially had me feeling emotional. I’m just so happy they got their happy ending.

And while I am still sad we didn’t see Tech alive again, I knew the ending they got was exactly what Tech sacrificed himself for. And someone pointed this out in a different post, but Tech lives on with his brothers and especially with Omega. She learned so much from him throughout the show and we can see that through her actions and brains. They loved each other so much.

I’m interested to see what may happen with the remaining plot points that didn’t get resolved. What happened with Cody? What about Omega and her force sensitivity? But I’m honestly also fine if we don’t see Omega or the batch again. The ending was just so perfect, and sometimes it’s nice to just leave things as is.

Anyway, I’m really going to miss experiencing the pending excitement of a new episode or season. I hope the fandom remains alive. I know we’ll all eventually move on and get invested into other shows and characters, but I hope the batch remains in our heads and hearts for a long time and we interact in the fandom from time to time.

This show came out at such a monumental point in my life. Finishing high school, beginning college, and a bunch of other crazy stuff happening around and amidst that. I have loved nothing more than interacting with other fans via Instagram, tumblr and ao3. This show reignited a love for writing in me, and I’ve loved being able to write stories for them. I hope to continue to do so. And the friends I’ve made through the fandom are absolutely amazing and I’m so grateful to know them all 🩷

This show was handled with such care and love. Was it perfect? No, but pretty damn close. It taught me a lot about learning and discovering who you are, family, friends, and love. I appreciate the creators and everyone who worked on the bad batch so much for how well they handled the show and its characters.

I know I’m probably blabbering on here. And sure, at the end of the day it is “just a show” I guess, but what’s come from that show for me has become such an important part of my life. I know I will always look back fondly on this show, remembering it was a constant in my life during many changes and new adventures.

To The Bad Batch, from the bottom of my heart, thank you ❤️

#help what do I do now #lol #skimmy thoughts #the bad batch #star wars #star wars tbb #tbb hunter #tbb tech #tbb crosshair #tbb spoilers #tbb omega #tbb echo #tbb wrecker #tbb season 3 spoilers #tbb s3 spoilers

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artinclined-jointheartside · 2 years

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Harassment PSA

General advisory to be on the lookout for a user by the name "Winxbloomaisha."

They also go by Ecrin Su Coban and ElationWishes. Their current twitter handle is @SuCoban14.

This applies mainly to creators who produce Raeda content as this seems to be this user's primary focus.

Their harassment of me started first on Twitter mid-July this year (2022) under the account name Winxbloomaisha. They were very responsive to my Raeda art and started with simple, benign comments but very quickly devolved into insisting I draw very specific and detailed NSFW scenes. I politely asked them to keep from describing these scenes on my Twitter posts as I will only post full NSFW art on my patreon and did not wish to have such detailed on my posts without my consent. They continued to comment with their requested scenes, still describing them in detail, and then became agitated when I did not post pictures of what they had requested. A friend of mine jumped in at this point, reprimanding them for their behavior, after which they deleted several comments. After informing them that I would block them if they continued, they did back off for a while, but then started up again a short time later. I followed through with the block and deleted their remaining comments off my posts. I have a few screenshots saved from that encounter.

After I blocked them however, they followed me again under the name Ecrin Su Coban (after deleting the original account). I realized this was them because this person spoke in a similar manner to the previous account and also followed at least one Turkish Twitter account. The reason following a Turkish account matters is because the user Winxbloomaisha at one point forgot to run their text through a translator and posted a few comments on my posts in Turkish. They have since said nothing explicit from this account – on Twitter.

They messaged me on Instagram under the name Ecrin Su Coban earlier this month (November) on the same day they commented on my Ao3 fic under Winxbloomaisha. Saying simply they had a question, I responded and they immediately asked I draw Raeda art for them, which I've made fairly clear at this point I won't do. What followed was a comment string where they repeatedly tried to get me to interact with them, at which point my friend again stepped in to reprimand them for their behavior. I have since frozen the threads and turned on comment moderation for the fic, as it appears they enjoy having their comments visible to the public.

Below are the screenshots from the first encounter on Twitter and you can view the Ao3 comment threads I've left up at the bottom of this chapter. (Note: The heart on one comment was an accident, done before fully reading the comment because I tend to automatically heart comments people make to me.)

The reason I have made this post is they have now targeted another creator (screenshot below), specifically with the request to write Raeda fiction. Through asking around we've determined there is at least one other person who has had an encounter with this user as well.

It appears this user intends to continue their behavior, so please be aware of these names in your comment sections.

(Sidenote: Ecrin Su Coban is the name of a popular child actress in Turkey, however through investigation of her socials it is quite clear this girl is not the user of these accounts.)

#TOH #the owl house #owl house #raeda #raine whispers #eda clawthorne #psa #harassment #inappropriate behavior #fanart #fanfic #AO3 fanfic #ao3 #twitter #please stand by

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modernistestates · 11 months

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Bedroom insulation project

First, a grumble. Tumblr has changed the way posts are made, which means new post don't display on my website anymore. The only way I can make them show up is to work over old posts. Grrrrr. Why do they change things, it worked fine before!! So unless I can get someone to edit my custom Tumblr theme, this might need to be my last post for this blog.

Anyway, back to the matter in hand. I've been meaning to write up about the bedroom insulation project for ages, but what with being away and also trying to move to a new studio I haven't found the time to finish the job. However, the bulk of it is done, and as I am away again over the next couple of weeks, I thought I'd summarise the installation process so far.

So for the people who haven't been following the highs and lows of it on my Instagram, over the last couple of months, I've been tackling the issue of a very cold and very small bedroom.

I live in a late 1970s building by Benson and Forsyth. It's a modestly sized one-bedroom flat, but what the architects did to make the space feel bigger is add a split level and give the majority of the space to the living areas and compromise on the size of the bedroom. This doesn't bother me at all, apart from a bed and some drawers, what else does a bedroom need? The room, essentially a little cube, juts out from the rest of the flat meaning there are three external walls, it's also partially sunk into the ground. Additionally, above the ceiling is the pedestrian deck, so again, no insulation. All this amounts to a very cold room.

When I first moved in 2015 I just kept the heating on in that room the whole time, but it just seemed ridiculous to heat a room that I wasn't in during the day. And then, during the pandemic, I noticed little mould spots all over my mattress and wall behind the bed. Gross. I had to do something about it. Properly.

Over the last couple of years I started researching different insulating materials, but because of the size of the room (it's about 2.5 x 2.5m) I really couldn't afford to lose any wall space with regular insulation. I then came across Spacetherm WL made by Proctor. There wasn't much written about it when I first discovered it, but I've since found a BBC article that you can read it here.

This seemed ideal as it's only 13mm thick, and you can glue it directly onto the wall, plus you can do it yourself. You can download the installation guide here from their website, but here's what I learnt from the installation. I could have done some things better, so I hope you learn from my mistakes and this is useful.

First of all, if you can, clear EVERYTHING out of the room. I couldn't move my bed out and it was a pain to have to work around it, plus, the particles from the material are horrible. More on this later.

Step 1: It goes without saying, measure the walls and work out the amount of boards you need. I ordered them directly from Proctor. They were really helpful every time I emailed them with a question. The boards are 1200 x 600 mm, so are easy to handle for just one person. I'm no stranger to DIY I should say, but I do think most people could do this themselves. The boards are stuck on with Foam Glue, which I also ordered from Proctor. I underestimated the amount I needed but managed to get the same stuff from Screwfix.

Step 2: Get everything off the walls, obviously, including radiators. Obviously. I've done quite a bit of tiling in the past, so I treated this job in a similar way: I installed a batten at the bottom of the wall where I wanted the boards to sit and worked my way up with whole boards first. You need to spray the glue onto the furry side of the material in a zig-zag pattern. One thing to note is the thickness of the glue. Try and make this consistent otherwise it's difficult to get the adjacent boards flush (I had this issue, more on this later).

I haven't mentioned the material. Right. So essentially it's 10mm of Spacetherm aerogel insulation blanket — a weird feeling fibrous furry material, bonded to a 3mm Magnesium Oxide Board. I found it horrible to handle, and when I cut it, tiny tiny little fibres would end up everywhere, including my bed. They were like little tiny shards of glass. The instructions do say to wear PPE and seal the area you are working in if possible. I ended up having to cut it outside during the heatwave, so was wearing shorts — a mistake!

Step 3: Once all the full boards are in place, you need to measure and cut the boards to fill in the spaces. A friend lent me his Festool circular saw (thank you Huw), which as I mentioned I set up outside. He was worried about me damaging the blade, he needn't of worried, the material cuts very easily.

Oh, you’ll also need to make any holes for plug sockets etc. You can do this with jigsaw, although I was lazy and just drilled a series of holes and then punched the material out.

Also worth mentioning: when you install the panels in corners, you need to make sure the aerogel butts up, which means trimming off the 3mm boards. This was easy to do with the Festool. Proctor supply instruction for internal and external corners one their website here.

Step 4: So the gaps are now filled and all the walls are lined with the material. The instructions say you to tape and fill the gaps between the boards, prime it, paint it and you're done. Ha ha ha!! My advice is to ignore that. I could not get the boards to align next to each other completely perfectly. Unless you are really experienced, I don't think you will either, so in the end I decided to get them plastered. That meant ordering a different primer (at £100 a pop, ouch) and it delayed things by a week.

Step 5 and 6: Once the pot finally arrived, I was ready to go. I'd imagined a watery consistency which would take half an hour to do. But this stuff was weird. It's basically grit or sand, in a viscousy fluid which you have to paint on evenly with a paintbrush. So it took half a day, and the result — rough textured walls — reminded me of a Greek taverna. It stayed like this for a while until I managed to pin my plasterer down, who skimmed the whole thing last week.

Getting there…

Step 7: This weekend I managed to get three coats of paint onto the walls, and also get the furniture back in. I still need to sort out the skirting boards and repaint the woodwork, but the walls themself are done and are looking good! It really doesn't feel like it's eaten much into the space, which I was worried about. Of course, the proof will be when it starts getting cold, I'll be sure to update you on its effectiveness. Fingers crossed!

Photos in order: 1. Me 2. The bedroom once I’d removed most things off the walls and out of the room (I wish I could have moved the bed out) 3. Applying the foam glue to the back of the boards 4. Boards stuck to the wall 5. Festool circular saw, perfect tool for the job. Be careful of all the particles from the material. 6. Taping and filling the joints 7. Primer needed before plastering 8. Walls once primed 9. Applying first coat of paint once the walls were plastered 10. Second coat of paint applied

#journal

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x reader (part 7)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself. except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: um just implied smut and fluff and a reference to bdsm I guess?? but it's pretty chill overall

Liked by starkcosmetics and others

y/n.y/l/n okay first of all, it takes an act of god to get a picture of this guy smiling, but it’s always worth it. he really changed everything for me and I can’t thank him enough for that. so happy ❤️

View all 9,208 comments

caroldanvers 😍😍😍

flowercrowny/n oh my god this is so sweet i’m gonna cry

1 HOUR AGO

He smiled as he stared down at the post you’d made, remembering how much effort you’d put into finding the perfect picture (in your opinion; he thought he looked kinda dopey in it) as well as writing and re-writing your caption.

The speed at which your post gained likes and comments was inconceivable to him; even more impressive was the speed at which gossip rags were picking up the story. Sure enough, his phone’s alerts to new headlines about you were not only going off like crazy, but had started to include news about himself as well.

Y/N Y/L/N Shocks With Romantic Instagram Post, Confirms Dating Rumors

You’ll Never Guess Which Hollywood Starlet Is Dating Her Driver

Who is James Barnes? Everything We Know About Y/N Y/L/N’s New Beau

Skimming one of the articles, he was impressed at how much information they’d managed to get without actually getting anything from you or him. Born in Brooklyn, disabled Army veteran, worked a list of odd jobs before becoming your driver and bodyguard. ‘No social media presence, prefers to keep a low profile’ one of them said; you can say that again, Bucky chuckled to himself when he read it.

He found another from People and didn’t particularly appreciate that it spent half the time going through all your past exes and rumored partners (turned out ‘rumored’ is a fancy word for ‘a bunch of fans deluded themselves so hard that it somehow turned into news without any proof necessary’). But he still smiled when he got to the part that was actually about you and him.

‘The relationship is pretty new but they’re so happy together,’ a source close to the couple reported.

Close indeed; that statement came from your publicist, who he’d never even meet.

‘He’s a very private guy and she’s got this huge following, so they’re sort of an odd couple in that way, but she knows her fans are respectful and will let them have their own life outside of the spotlight.’

Bucky wasn’t sure that the respectfulness of fans was such a given here, but he hoped you were right. To be fair, they’d been very sweet on your original post insofar.

However, when he scrolled to the bottom of the celebrity magazine articles and realized they had their own comments section, he discovered that they were a little less forgiving than the ones on your Instagram.

Is this the best she thinks she can do? So sad tbh :(

a military guy…. yikes, she could get any guy she wants and she goes for a murderer.

He looks like a hobo that found a coupon for a free haircut lol

I don’t buy it, I know she’ll always love Pietro!

Pietro being your former co-star that so many of your fans were convinced was actually your soulmate. From what he’d heard from you, those speculations had made things so uncomfortable between the two of you that it killed your friendship. Those were nothing, though, compared to the comments about someone you actually had dated.

she’s obviously not over sam… they were so good together

He’d better watch out for her ex, he still likes tweets about her and they have so much chemistry

Wait, she’s not still with Sam Wilson?? I could’ve sworn they’d been dating for, like, five years.

You were scrolling through your phone with a smile as you walked past where he was sitting on the couch, and he just couldn’t help himself from asking even though he knew it wasn’t the best idea. “Do I need to worry about this Sam thing?” he blurted out, trying to play it cool and not sound too anxious. “People are really obsessed with you two…”

“Sam and I…” you sighed, staring off into space for a second. He made himself anxious imagining what you were thinking about in that moment. “I haven’t talked to him in… years? I think it’s just because our relationship was so public that people are still talking about it. And it had a lot of gossip material— we did a movie together, people thought it was sweet that we got together during production, it was great promotion for the picture… and from the outside, we made a lot of sense for each other. But he has his own problems. I loved him, but… he wasn’t ever going to be a one-girl kinda guy.”

“But you’re not just any one girl. You’re… you know, you,” he emphasized.

“You’ve been reading too many headlines,” you shook your head as you sat down beside him. “Please don’t turn into one of those guys who thinks of me as a celebrity first. Before that—” you pointed to your own name where it was bolded on his screen in the trending topics page of Twitter— “was popping up on movie posters and in gossip magazines, it was just my name. And I’m not perfect. Not even close.”

Bucky sighed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into him and holding you tightly. “And before I knew you were famous, or rich, or incredibly talented, I was totally obsessed with you just for who you are.”

“You’re too fucking amazing,” you sighed as you held his face and gave him a gentle kiss— the kind of kiss that instantly melted his heart and banished his worries. When you pulled back and looked up at him with a smile, it was like everything else just… faded away. “Don’t read the comments, okay? None of them matter.”

He smiled and brushed his thumb over your cheek, overwhelmed by not only the softness of your skin but of your spirit as well. In all his life he’d never been handled so… gently, with so much care. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” he mumbled, not even really realizing he’d said it aloud until you gave him a beaming smile.

“I can’t believe you’re my boyfriend,” you giggled pridefully.

“Seriously? I can… very easily believe it,” he scoffed.

“I just mean… you’re so…” you searched for the words. “You’re actually good to me, that’s the thing. I’m not used to that.”

“You deserve the world,” he assured. “I’m just gonna keep trying to give you as much of it as I can find.”

He watched his hand trail over your face, down your neck and to your chest where he played with the hem of your t-shirt.

"It's odd to know there are millions of people who are jealous of me,” he admitted quietly, remembering some aggressive comments from some very angry dudes who had apparently also watched your nude scene a few too many times.

"Do you like it? Do you like how it feels to know you're making them angry every time you touch me?"

"Couldn't care less," he refuted. "Nobody else matters when I'm touchin' you."

“Do you maybe wanna… touch me a little more about it?” you smirked, opening your legs slightly in invitation.

“Always.”

Bucky had, thankfully, not let the newfound fame get to his head. In fact, he had demanded that the two of you hunker down in the house, since he feared that going out would lead to being recognized. What he apparently hadn’t anticipated was that that might not be enough.

“Will you get that?” you requested when the gate buzzed, too wrapped up in the book you were reading to answer the intercom.

He hopped up and held down the button to communicate with the gate speaker. “Who is it?” he asked.

“I’ve got a delivery from Anjappar Chettinad on 23rd?”

Bucky didn’t even reply before hitting the green button and granting access to the driveway. BEEP BEEP BEEP! you heard the gate signal its opening, and the car pulling around up to the door. Bucky didn’t open it until there was a knock, greeting the delivery guy with a smile and the necessary cash.

“I’ve got a lamb korma, hyderabadi mutton dum biryani and an order of— woah,” the man suddenly stopped, staring at Bucky’s face. “Are you—?’

“Hungry? Yes,” he frowned.

“You’re the guy dating— holy shit, congrats man,” he beamed, smacking Bucky on the shoulder pridefully before leaning in with a mischievous smirk. “Say, is she a freak or what?”

“She is,” you piped up from the couch, making both men turn their heads; but one was chuckling while the other looked mortified. “You better not have forgotten my paneer pakora or I’m gonna chain you up and whip you.”

“Uh, I— no, I got it right here,” he promised weakly, handing the bag over to Bucky and starting to dash away before Bucky grabbed his arm, making the smaller man whimper fearfully.

“You forgot the money,” Bucky reminded him gruffly, stuffing the bills into the driver’s front pocket.

Finally, he let go, and the delivery man instantly pulled away, rubbing his arm and looking a bit like a kicked puppy as he went back to his car and drove away.

“You didn’t need to scare him that bad,” Bucky chuckled.

“I could say the same to you! Grabbing somebody with the metal arm like that will put the fear of God into them pretty fast.”

“I didn’t mean to grab him that hard,” he admitted, examining the prosthetic hand as he came back to the couch with the bag of food, handing it to you while he focused on watching his motorized fingers curl and uncurl. “I think I need to get this thing recalibrated… it’s been bugging out lately.”

“I dunno, it was working just fine last night,” you smiled, remembering how delightfully cool those fingers felt inside you.

Bucky seemed to miss it entirely, though, as he stared off into space. “I can’t believe I got… recognized.”

“You’re a star,” you winked. “And not just with random delivery drivers. I’ve had a lot of press requests, everybody wants to be the first one to get nice pictures of us together— we’ve had a dozen event invites as a couple.”

“Seriously?!” he scoffed, snapping back to reality slightly enough

“Yeah, and look what came in same-day mail this morning!” You leaned over to shuffle through the mail on the side table before finding and handing him a letter in a gold-embossed envelope, watching him read what you knew was inside.

The Hollywood Foreign Press Association extends an invitation to Y/N Y/L/N and James Barnes to the annual Grant Banquet in support of the Young Artists Fund.

“It seems like a good first event for us,” you explained. “Relatively small and low stakes, it’s for a good cause…”

“Are you sure I’m ready to be, you know… seen? By people?”

You scoffed, hardly believing how insecure he could be sometimes. “You look great, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Will I have to talk to anybody other than you?” he asked, grimacing as if that were a form of brutal torture.

“Probably,” you admitted.

His frown deepened. “What if I say the wrong thing?”

“I’m not that worried about you,” you smirked. “You’re a lot better at this stuff than you think you are.”

“I don’t have anything to wear…”

You smirked, a little too proud of yourself, when you remembered the email your publicist had forwarded to you just this morning. “Hugo Boss will pay you $1500 to wear one of their suits on the carpet.”

“They’ll pay me to wear free clothes?” he repeated with wide eyes.

“Yeah, that’s one of the cooler things about fame,” you laughed. “I make a grand every time I wear this watch outside!”

“I guess I should send them my measurements then…” he trailed off. “Any chance I can get in on that watch deal?”

“No, but you can make $50 by getting papped at Jamba Juice.”

He paused for a moment, scratching the back of his neck as he thought. “Is the smoothie comped?”

“I don’t know. Do you want me to ask?”

“...kinda…” he admitted with a shy smile.

“Well, I will, and I’ll RSVP to this invite saying we’ll be there next week,” you decided as you started to open up the food, but Bucky stopped you by reaching for your hands.

“Are we really doing this?” he asked.

“If you want to,” you mitigated.

“Of course I do. I guess I have to accept that you’re actually willing to be seen with me,” he chuckled. “It’s just sort of hard to believe.”

You leaned in and kissed him; it was meant to be a casual, reassuring peck but he held you closer and you melted into him, moaning softly at his touch as you started to climb into his lap.

“The food’s gonna get cold,” he reminded you with a mumble against your lips.

Unfortunately, your literal hunger was a bit too strong to ignore, even with the growing intensity of a metaphorical hunger for Bucky. “Alright,” you relented, getting off of him and returning your attention to the meal on the table. “Just know that I really, really want to be seen together, in public, just in case anybody missed the news about us already. I’m not embarrassed by you or afraid you’re going to do something dumb. I…”

One of those words that can’t be unsaid started to bubble up in your throat and you coughed, banishing the thought.

“I really like you. I think we have something special.”

He smiled gently, giving you one more kiss on the cheek. “I think so, too.”

Since this was slightly less of a big deal than a premiere or press tour, you had managed to convince your styling team to let you dress yourself, which was why he was laying on the bed and talking to you through the bathroom door while you put on your gown.

“Do you want me to hire a new driver?” you prompted him, voice muffled slightly as he imagined your head covered in the fabric, trying to navigate through the dress. “I don’t want you to feel… I don’t know, like a servant?”

“A servant? You’re still paying me,” he reminded you. “You are still paying me, right?”

“Yes,” you laughed, “but still, I would hate it if you felt like staff. You’re my boyfriend!”

(His heart still fluttered every time you said it.)

“No new driver,” he decided. “I can drive just fine, and considering how things went between us… let’s not open the door for anybody else,” he smirked, making you laugh in that way you did when he made a stupid joke but you still liked it somehow.

“Okay, sure, but what about being my bodyguard? Is that too weird?” you continued.

“God no,” he scoffed, “if anything I’m gonna be better at my job than ever. As your boyfriend, keeping you safe is my job, but since keeping you safe was already my job… it’s, like, doubled-up now.”

He lost his train of thought when you opened the door.

“How do I look?” you asked as you stepped in and gave him a spin in your new dress. Your whole body was draped in red silk, with the exception of your back which was almost entirely exposed, as if it were begging him to run his fingers down your spine.

“Like everything I ever wanted,” he blurted out before he could stop himself.

And it was so odd that you questioned his desire to drive you, because those moments where he could steer with one hand and rest the other on your thigh, when he could catch a glimpse of you looking out the window at the city rolling by, when he got to listen to you ramble about something to kill the time during a drive; those were his favorite moments, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything.

After a relatively brief trip, you arrived at the venue, and all of a sudden he was doing what he’d fantasized about more than he’d like to admit: escorting you down a red carpet. It was almost overwhelming— yelling, chattering, reporters speaking into camera, flashes going off in every direction—

“Hey,” you whispered, bringing your hand up to his cheek and instantly taking all his attention.

“Hey,” he returned.

“Just follow my lead,” you instructed.

“That was the plan.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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allthingsarmin · 3 years

Note

fckboy armin? + degredation is always a good combination <3

I was so excited to write this dose of Armin brainrot, omg 😩

If it’s alright with you, anon, I did this request in more of a headcanon format, but the ending is more of a fanfiction format. I’m also sorry I took so long to write this omg.

MINORS DNI!

Fem!Reader, FemBodied!Reader

TW: Mentions of NSFW topics + degradation, mean!armin, manipulation, fuckboy topics

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin whose style resembles that of the horny, manipulative, ghost-y men on campus yet is just too hot for you to handle. The way he wears dark silver rings on his left thumb, middle, and pointer fingers that accentuate his slender, pale fingers and clean-cut nails. The way the small, dark tattoos on his knuckles, right forearm, and collarbone add an aura of mystery and aggression to his being that just exudes sex. The way he wears a gold chain necklace with distressed jeans and a plain t-shirt that’s just a little too tight and shows off his pecks. Or the way he wears long black joggers and an oversized long-sleeve black shirt that makes him look taller. The way he doesn’t wear his mask correctly, always hanging on one of his ears which compliment his stud earrings and devilish smirk. The way he is broke because he’s always spending money on the newest, trendy shoes. The way he always uses way too much cologne… One look at him, and you can sense his ‘asshole attitude,’ but you can’t deny it makes your lower regions pulsate.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who’s body is so perfectly sculpted and toned that it leaves you thinking dirty thoughts in class. The way he sits in class with his sleeves rolled up, laying back relaxed in the chair, right leg bouncing out of boredom as his hard cock becomes noticeable in his grey sweatpants makes you want to run to your dorm and touch yourself. The way his abs call out to you to graze your fingertips against them when he lifts his shirt up to wipe away the sweat after walking home from the gym. The way his beautifully slender fingers hold his phone or push his hair back when he’s frustrated makes you think about how good they would feel inside you. The way his accentuated collarbone peaks through his thin t-shirts, allowing you to see the hickeys and imprints of love bites from god knows how many women makes you jealous. The way his skin is so pale and so soft that his blonde leg hair becomes barely noticeable. The way his golden hair brings out a plethora of the shades of blue in his eyes, and oh how his haircut suits him perfectly, shaping his jawline very well. How his beautiful blue eyes dangerously lure you into him, the soft but manipulative stares he gives you. How he can’t seem to maintain eye contact with you for more than three seconds because he looks at your breasts. The sinister yet sexy smiles he has plastered upon his face when talking with his friends about ‘some other whore’ he fucked the other day… Armin is attractive, and he knows he is attractive. Though you hate how arrogant his looks have made him, his suggestive stares and lip bites from such a handsome man make your heart flutter and mind only focused on one thing.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who is always posting thirst traps on instagram. You know… The pictures with the squinted eyes and the bitten lower bottom lip, either showing off his money or new shoes, pictures beside a nice car, suggestive pictures with the new girls he’s been fucking recently, biting his chain necklaces because he thinks it’s sexy. Only follows ‘successful’ men and offensive meme accounts but mostly follows half-naked women and supermodels. Leaves nasty comments on ugly womens’ pictures, calling them whores while he’s in hot girls’ DMs sending unsolicited dick pics and asking for nudes. Has thousands of followers, mostly from the party girls and rude men who go to his college. Won’t let you tag him in a photo unless he ‘looks hot.’

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who takes slutty gym pictures with his shirt off, abs out, shorts low enough to see his V line, hands in his hair, and a wink. Sends it to every girl in his snapchat contacts and posts it on his story with the ‘slide up’ text.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who hits you with the “you up?” at 2am on snapchat after ghosting you for two months. Tells you how much he misses your lewd moans and sloppy cunt, and then after pressuring you to give him nudes, he saves them and then doesn’t talk to you for at least a week.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who is so intelligent and dangerously manipulative. Who is so smart that he doesn’t need or want to pay attention in class, who convinces you to let him keep the nudes you sent him on snapchat, who reels you right back in when you try to move on from him.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who was nice to you at first, befriending you when you looked so alone, shy, and innocent, who only chose you because you looked so easy to take advantage of when he finally closes in on you.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who says he doesn’t want ‘any of that relationship stuff’ because all of his exes were crazy and that he only wants to date hot chicks.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who only texts you at ungodly hours during the weekdays and plays games like ‘20 questions’ with you so he can ask you if you’re either a virgin or a whore, if you like oral, if you’ve thought about him in dirty ways before… or truth or dare, asking you if you if you want to be his slut or daring you to send him lewd pictures of yourself.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who takes every chance he can get to turn anything sexual: the way your skirt is just a little too short that makes him suddenly grab your upper thighs, the way you innocently lick your ice cream cone on a hot summer day - he tells you to put your tongue on his cock instead, how you put your hair up in a high ponytail just makes him want to pull on it and kiss the crook of your neck… it all leaves him clouded with dirty thoughts.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who calls you ‘babe’ and refers to you as his ‘girl’ even though he has a million bitches on the side.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who makes you feel like shit about yourself because he’s constantly sending you womens’ profiles on Instagram, saying you should look more like them and ‘get a nicer ass.’

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who becomes more controlling as your sexual relationship continues, basically forcing you to let him check your phone in case you're messaging other dudes and being naughty for men besides him but gets defensive when you want to see his phone.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who refuses to eat you out but expects you to praise his cock with your slutty mouth and wet tongue.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who doesn’t really care about your personal problems or pain, and whenever you tell him you’re hurting on the inside, he offers to let you come over to his house so that he can fuck you: “once my cock is inside you again, you’ll forget all about your sadness.”

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who doesn’t use condoms because he ‘can’t feel anything’ when he wears them, so he just assumes that you’re on birth control when he cums inside you.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who violates your privacy when he’s online gaming with his closest friends, Eren and Jean, as he tells them through the microphone about how tight and wet your pussy is and how much you enjoy being treated like a slut, your mouth full of his cock and pussy dripping with his cum… going as far as sending secretive videos he took of you to them where you’re whimpering and begging for Armin’s cock.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who pressures you to do risky things you don’t want to do, but you just can’t find the courage to say no to him when he stares at you with his intense blue eyes… like when he asks you to sit next to him in the back of the class then without your approval, sneaks his slender fingers into your panties and starts harshly playing with your clit. He devilishly smirks as you try to suppress your cries of disapproval. Or like when he convinces you to let him take videos of you when you’re in a position that exposes your slick cunt to him so well. Or even how he manipulates you into trying something new that you’ve never been comfortable with, like swallowing his thick cum, letting him put you in a full-nelson, maybe letting him choke you while he spits in your mouth.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who finally closes in on you, begging you to help him study for the upcoming test since he wasn’t paying attention in class because ‘you’re just so distracting’ to him, acting so smart and innocent and respectably in front of the teacher when Armin really knows that your slutty outfits and wet pussy says otherwise… so you excitedly go over to his dorm, thankful that finally it will be a normal get-together where you could actually find out more about Armin instead of finding out more about how he likes his cock sucked. Upon entering his dorm, it is apparent that he never planned on studying with you as his textbooks are nowhere to be found, and he is sitting on the couch half-naked with Netflix on the TV.

ᵔᴥᵔ “Oh hey, y/n, didn’t expect to see you here so soon,” he says nonchalantly. You unknowingly stare at his broad shoulders, his strong chest, and of course his V-line that is not hard to miss as he carelessly talks shit about his teachers. “See something you like?” arrogance seething from his teeth as he brushes back his blond hair. You don’t say anything as your face grows red. He takes your hand and leads you to the couch. “Come on, let’s watch something.”

ᵔᴥᵔ The sound of skin slapping drowns out the voices on the TV. You don’t even know how Armin managed to get you into this position again where you’re so submissive under him, giving into him yet again. He flips you over on your back, and he props himself up, looking over your figure that’s so pathetically displayed below him. You can see his angelic hair stick to his forehead as the sweat drips down his soft but sharp cheeks. The look in his eyes has gone dark, and his smile is sinister as if he was a predator about to devour a prey. He wickedly laughs as you grind your needy cunt against his hard cock. This is where he really gets mean.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin loves to degrade you like the whore you are, constantly reminding you just how easy you are to take advantage of, how easy you are to win over with just some dick, how easy it is to make your sloppy cunt squirt and tingle from multiple orgasms, how easy it is to make you whimper and beg for his thick cock to make a complete mess of your pussy.

ᵔᴥᵔ “You really didn’t think I invited you over just to study, did you?” he snickers as he cruelly and slowly thrusts into your aching cunt, making eye contact with you and grinning as your face turns red. He grabs your throat, choking you, and begins to thrust faster which pulls shaky moans from under your breath. He inches close to your ear and whispers, “you even came over here without wearing underwear under that short skirt of yours…” he switches to the other ear, “and when I started touching your dirty cunt during the movie, you were already so wet,” you shiver at his words. He pulls back and gives you a gentle slap with his left hand, his rings stinging your face, and uses his right hand to twist your perky nipples. He begins to laugh, “but I’m not surprised that a filthy slut like you - my filthy slut - would think of such impure thoughts during something as innocent as watching a movie.” Armin leans closer to your face again, still thrusting into you at a quick pace. His warm breath raises goosebumps on your skin. He harshly grabs your mouth and tells you to open, which you submissively comply with, and he spits into your mouth which causes you to whimper. He smacks the side of your thigh. “You like being treated like some depraved slut don’t you?” You don’t reply, but the fluttering in your tight pussy says otherwise. He flips you onto your stomach, your breasts mushing into the couch, and without warning, he forces his girthy cock into your tight pussy. He is thrusting into you at an ungodly pace, making you scream and moan incoherent words. “What’s my little slut saying? Use your words, baby,” he teases. At this point, you can only call out his name. “A-armin…” He begins to torturously thrust into that one spot, and within seconds, you're bucking your hips, intensely squirting onto his couch and leaving a sopping wet dark spot. “Fucking whore, gonna have to buy a new couch because you can’t control your filthy cunt,” he growls into your ear. He quickly flips you over onto your back again, wanting to see your face. Your face is contorted with such pleasure; your eyes are rolled to the back of your head, and your mouth is wide open with drool dripping down your jaw. Armin shudders, his cock getting even harder in your tight pussy. “So hot… such a lewd slut.” He immediately brings out his phone, taking a picture. “Want me to show my friends what a cock-hungry whore you are?” You quickly nod. “So fucking pathetic,” he snarls. “I’m going to destroy your cunt, slut.” He shoves his warm tongue in your mouth, gently grabbing the hair on your foggy head. “I’m gonna break you in so bad,” he mumbles, wiping the tears from your face.

ᵔᴥᵔ fuckboy!armin who maybe in fact does want to have that ‘relationship shit’ with you ~

__________________________

Requests are open, and feedback is appreciated <3

#armin arlert #armin x reader #aot x reader #armin smut #aot smut

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cupofteaguk · 4 years

Text

on the road (to you)

summary: as a young adult, one of the strangest revelations is the discovery that peers of yours from past fragile college years are getting married. so imagine your shock and excitement upon receiving a wedding invitation. there are, however, two problems: (1) you are a poor early-20s recently employed adult just beginning to adjust to your 401k plan, and (2) the only available ride to the wedding comes in the form of Jeon Jungkook—friend of a friend, attendee to that aforementioned wedding, and your old college crush.

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

genre: roadtrip au, strangers to lovers au | fluff/angst

warnings: recreational alcoholic consumption, definitely not an accurate representation of how a road trip might actually be, mentions of anxiety + insecurities, very minor book reference to: The Night Circus, equally minor movie references to: Mission Impossible and The Princess Bride because I have a problem, light makeout sessions, talks of DTR (define the relationship), some angst but this is me so there’s a happy ending.

word count: 27k

a/n: a birthday present for the one and only Jeon Jungkook, whom I love and respect so much and only wish the bestest of days for. Partly inspired by Taylor Swift’s song “invisible string” + a love letter of sorts to my own old high school crush for whom my memory of him helped build Jungkook’s character. This also turned out way longer than I ever wanted it to be lol oops!

update: i was actually able to do a writer’s audio tag on this fic!!! check it out if you want to hear about the behind the scenes process that went into writing this fic <3

When you land a job in the months following your college graduation, you feel as if you are on top of the world. How could you not? After all, the norm that follows post-college is one of disappointment and constant hunts online to find job openings for any position that could suit your background and previous work experiences. It’s a fear that plagues lots of your friends, both those in college and out. It’s the same paranoia you had in the months leading up to graduation and the few months after graduation—in which your days were measured by the boxes you packed to move out of your tiny college apartment and into an equally tiny new apartment you currently share with an old roommate of yours, as well as the days you spent hunched over your computer and scrolling through job postings.

You had gone through more than a handful of cover letters, resume submissions, and in person interviews before finally landing the job you currently have and have been working under for a month now.

Throughout the course of the recent month, you’ve continued to secure certain moments that solidify the confidence that you’re finally becoming an adult. Sure, a barely functioning adult who mostly still uses the microwave to heat up your frozen Mac and Cheese—but an adult nonetheless. From learning how to pay your bills online, to realizing that grocery shopping was something you needed to make a conscious effort to do, along with going to and from your nine to five job with your coffee order in hand.

All of those things have helped you feel like you were, perhaps, finally getting your life together.

And then you receive the invitation in the mailbox.

It happens when you unlock your box on a bright March morning, taking out the usual round of bills and fashion magazines until your fingers lock around an envelope bigger than the normal letter size. It’s much sturdier too.

You don’t know what to think of the letter, until you bring the damn thing back into your apartment and rip the opening. The mere sight of the content inside makes you feel like the hand of life has just taken your figurine and moved you back a good twenty squares.

The post in your hand reads:

WITH GREAT JOY, IRENE AND SEOKJIN REQUEST THE HONOR OF YOUR PRESENCE FOR THEIR WEDDING CELEBRATION ON THE DAY OF MAY 25TH. COCKTAILS, DINNER, AND DANCING TO FOLLOW.

There’s a date at the bottom of the invitation. As you line the date up with your calendar, you realize that you have a week to RSVP to the event.

You toss the envelope onto the counter in the kitchen just to glare at the cardstock, maybe to convince yourself this is a dream or at least convince yourself that it’s normal for your friend from college to be getting married even when you have yet to land a successful relationship of your own.

You aren’t as close with Irene as you used to be, but the memory of your friendship is still at the forefront of your mind. The pair of you met during your final year of university, when you were assigned to work together for one of your many senior projects and immediately clicked. The months you spent in her apartment and vice versa pulling out all-nighters in desperate attempts to finish your project definitely earns you an invitation. At the very least, you are happy to see that Irene: bright and smart and funny, is getting married.

Not only that, but getting married to Seokjin. He’s a year older than you and Irene, but those two met when he was still enrolled and have been inseparable ever since. You don’t know relationships that well, but you know them enough to recognize that Seokjin and Irene were what everyone called the ‘endgame’. In truth, it was only a matter of time before you were to receive one of these from them.

But did she really have to one-up you like this? Not that it’s a competition. However, it does leave a funny feeling to see someone the same age as you display a much more put together handle on life. You groan at the thought.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Karly asks.

You turn to your roommate. She’s seated at the kitchen table, books out and everywhere as she looks over at you. Karly: fellow alumni, graduated from her undergrad program early to go straight into pursuing her master’s degree. She’s a busy bee. You wave the envelope. “Irene is getting married.”

Her eyes widen. “Ah shit, no way?” She takes the paper that you offer to her and looks over the invitation. “Damn, I knew it was only a matter of time before we started getting this stuff, but to actually see it happening…”

You groan. “I know right!” You take the cardstock back from your friend. “It’s only been six months since we graduated, how could she be getting married already?”

“Well, Irene did have a job lined up for her right after graduation,” Karly points out thoughtfully. She sees the look of bewilderment you give her. “What? It was on her Instagram.”

You pout. “Of course Irene would have a job lined up like that.” You run a hand through your hair. “I mean, that’s good for her. Really good, actually…”

Karly jerks her chin towards the envelope still in your hand. “So, are you planning to go?”

“I don’t know, do you have plans that day?” You wave the paper. “I’m allowed a plus one.”

Your roommate cracks a smile. “Are you asking me out? A little forward of you, we’ve been friends for so long…”

You whine, shaking the paper and little more frantically. “Karly, this is important! I don’t want to go alone, I won’t know anyone!”

She laughs. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. What was the date again?”

You provide the date to her. You approach Karly’s place at the kitchen table and watch as she opens the calendar on her laptop. Immediately, you are overwhelmed by all the deadlines she’s got under practicality every date on the screen. Yet, a “wow” is the only thing you can say at the sight.

Karly smiles, sparing you a glance over her shoulder. “One of the joys of being a grad student slash T.A. slash research assistant.” She scrolls down into May, and narrows her eyes upon May 25th. Underneath the date is an event—color coated to bright orange and typed out in all caps. CONFERENCE WITH PROFESSOR WONG. “Oh crap, I have a conference that day.”

“No…” You whine some more, trailing off as you grab Karly by the shoulders and begin shaking. “Karly! You’ve left me out for the bears! What am I supposed to do?”

Karly laughs as she lets herself be manhandled in this way. “I don’t know! Go and deepen your social life or something.”

You stop shaking her and glare instead. “Is that a joke?”

“What do you expect me to say?” She retorts, appalled by your answer. “Then don’t go.”

You whine again. “But this is Irene, and I’ll feel bad for not going and congratulating her!”

“Then go!”

“But I don’t have a plus one!”

Karly places her hands at her temples. “Oh my god, this is like the circle of stupidity with you. Then find a plus one! Or just don’t go!” She whirls around to face you. “I will help you find a dress if you decide to go. I will also sit with you on the couch and eat popcorn with you if you decide not to go.”

You continue to pout, knowing that you deserve that gentle attempt at a lecture but still not liking the reason why you needed such a talking to.

“Fine,” You eventually decide to say, sliding into the seat next to Karly and leaning forward to plant your entire upper body on the table.

Karly laughs at your defeated posture. “Well, you have the rest of the week to make your decision.”

She has a point. That doesn’t mean you have to like it.

For the rest of the week the decision of whether or not you should attend the wedding becomes a weight in your mind. You spend the next few days pondering it, thinking over the pros and the cons.

As overdramatic as it is, you think about it during work, when you’re partaking in your home workout routines, and even when you’re about to fall asleep. You do want to go, you really do. It’ll be the first time you attend a wedding that didn’t involve a relative, which feels like a big deal in your adult agenda mindset. And Irene is someone you wouldn’t mind spending an evening with to catch up.

However, you wouldn’t get to spend the evening with Irene—after all, a wedding implies that she would likely be mingling with all of her guests and you would just be another attendee forced to find other means of entertainment. That’s where the plus one comes in handy. Except you don’t have a plus one. A slight problem.

You sigh. Work is a little slow today, as you are also experiencing the afternoon slump in which your mind drifts away more often than usual. You find yourself with a small laundry list of tasks (such as emailing companies, working on drafts for releases, and trying to set up different appointments) but without the motivation to do those things right away. Because of that, your afternoon slump takes the form of opening airline services to find information and prices about flying to Irene’s wedding. It’s in her hometown, about a five hour flight time from here to there.

You click on the various boxes that require information, finally allowing a search. As the search goes through, your eyes take in all the prices—both the amount to get there and to get back—and your lips part slightly at the totaling numbers.

“Five hundred dollars?” You mutter to yourself. You’re not sure how this would work with budgeting, but you’re still trying to figure out how to balance the cost of AC, the internet, and how to eat appropriate meals at least once a day. You don’t have five hundred dollars to spend on an airplane ticket. A slightly bigger problem.

You sigh again, resting your elbow on the desk and your chin in the palm as your eyes continue to scroll through the website.

Behind you, fingers curl around the top of your cubicle. There is a silence between the two of you: him, merely observing, and you, completely oblivious, until he clears his throat.

You jump, having not expected to be interrupted like this. A squeak leaves the back of your throat as you whirl around to see who is visiting you. “Jimin!” You exclaim, taking in the boy now perched along the wall of your cubicle. This is before you narrow your eyes. “Asshole, you scared me!”

If you just started working here and learned that you’d be cursing out Park Jimin for startling you, that past version of yourself might have turned red, shocked, and nervous at the thought. A month ago, Jimin was that coworker—as friendly as friendly people come by. With his pretty eyes, perfectly soft pink lips, and freshly dyed brown hair, you had been immediately taken by his charm and helpful nature.

Then the month went by, and you realized there were no romantic intentions on either end. Jimin then became your first friend in your new job. Albeit, he’s a nosy friend who enjoys asking questions and dragging you out to nearby bars and coming over occasionally with take-out, but a friend nonetheless.

“Sorry!” Jimin says back, then he glares at you. “What are you doing over here anyways?”

You shake your head. “What do you mean?”

“What do you mean what do I mean? You’ve been sighing all afternoon.” Jimin pulls out a slip of paper from behind his back. “Fifty times in the last hour, I swear to god.”

You straighten out of your seat to get a better look at the paper, unamused to find fifty tally marks across the surface. “You’re lying, there’s no way that I sighed fifty times in an hour.”

“Of course you wouldn’t know, you’re the one doing all the sighing!” Jimin retorts, lowering his hand with the paper. “Is something up with you? Did something happen?” His eyes flicker to the monitor screen behind you and he frowns. “What the fuck? Are you moving away already?”

You blink. “What?”

He jerks his chin towards the computer. “You’re looking at flight prices.”

“Huh?” You turn around, having completely forgotten about your previous predicament in light of discovering that Jimin counts your sighs. “Oh! No…”

Jimin raises an eyebrow. “No, you’re not looking at flight prices?”

You slide back into your chair, a silent invitation for Jimin to step further into your cubicle. You sigh again, and he holds the paper back up. Taking a pencil out of his pocket, he makes another mark. You look over at him upon hearing the pencil scratch and scowl. “Give me that!” You grab the paper from his hand. “I’m dealing with a crisis right now, don’t count my sighs!”

“Alright! Alright!” Jimin slides behind you and leans forward to get a better look at your computer screen. “So where are you moving to this time?”

You press your lips together. “I’m not moving away. A friend of mine from college is getting married. I’m just trying to see how expensive it would be to fly over there.”

He whistles at the five hundred dollar price in your cart. “That’s pretty expensive.”

“I know!” You groan, throwing yourself further back into your chair. “I wouldn’t mind going, but I don’t have a plus one. And as you can see, flying there would be a challenge on my wallet.”

Jimin hums at that. “Well, regarding your plus one problem, I wouldn’t mind going with you.”

You turn to look at him. “Really? You’d go across the country and endure an entire evening with your coworker and her old college classmates?”

He shrugs. “If you’re desperate, I’ll keep my offer around.” He actually pouts this time. “Are you implying that you see me more as a coworker than a friend? After all the times we’ve hung out outside of work!”

Your eyes widen slightly, having not thought of that. “No, no, Jimin, I mean—yes, I do see you as a friend now but we met as coworkers so I just think of you as a coworker first—!” You’re rambling.

Jimin interrupts by patting your shoulder, the corner of his lips quirked up into a smile. “I’m just messing with you.”

You shake your head again. “Asshole,” You grumble, returning your attention back to your computer.

Jimin is still mid-laughter behind you. “Anyways, yeah, like I said. If you’re desperate to go, I wouldn’t mind going with you. But deciding how to get there is a different question entirely.”

You turn to glare at your friend for a moment. “I’ll let you know.”

He nods, before his lips part and he’s snapping his fingers. “Oh yeah! I wanted to ask you something.”

He backs up, allowing you enough space to turn around fully and face him. “Okay, what’s up?”

Jimin grins, lifting his leg up to nudge your chair slightly. “I’m going out tonight—you should come with.”

You don’t even give this a second thought. Your lips turn into a downwards curl as you shake your head. “Nope.”

Jimin looks appalled. “Why not? Didn’t you have fun the last time we went out?”

“If ‘fun’ to you is trying to drag your drunk ass home and staying the night to make sure you wouldn’t choke on your vomit…” You grumble, trying not to shudder at the memory. It has only been a few days since that ‘fun’ time.

“I told you that sometimes I overestimate my abilities, and I already apologized for that,” Jimin points out, although he does have the decency to look guilty for that mess. He perks up again. “But this’ll be different, I promise. I’m meeting up with some friends and we’re just gonna catch up. It’s at one of the quieter bars uptown: no loud DJ, no bright lights, no bottomless rum and coke. Promise. It’ll just be a lot of socializing.” He watches you hesitantly. Socializing has never been your strong suit. “And finger food.”

The mention of food does make you look up towards him—your first sign of interest towards something. However, another thought weighs you down. “Are you sure you even want me to go?” You ask after a moment. “I mean, this is a catch up with friends. Wouldn’t I be intruding?”

“Not at all!” Jimin brushes off, waving away your concern with his hand. “I told you, it’s a socializing thing. Besides, my friends are always bringing someone along. They were asking me when I’d have a friend tag along, so I thought you’d be a good selection.” He notices you still frowning. “C’mon! It’ll be fun. When I’m not vomiting over your shoes, I’m good company. And I promise I won’t be vomiting this time.”

You stare at Jimin for a moment longer, contemplating his words. This is very true. Jimin is an ideal friend to have during social gatherings—he’s good at keeping a conversation going so you don’t have to shoulder the weight alone, he’s good at reading when you’re in a good mood and when you’re ready to go home, and he’s excellent at keeping unwanted attention away. You know this. Jimin knows that you know this.

It takes one curl of your lips for Jimin to grin, knowing that he has convinced you. “Okay!” He says, finalizing the decision without having to hear the actual answer from you. He pats your knee. “We’ll take the subway after work, it’s just a few stops down.”

If your mind conjures up any second thoughts, Jimin leaves before you are able to express them.

True to Jimin’s word, the pair of you step into a subway heading westbound as soon as you’re finished with work. It’s much later in the day now, the afternoon sun has changed into a night sky with a chill spring breeze to match. The carts are filled with the evening crowd of adults, all done with another day of work and finding enjoyment for the rest of today by returning home or seeing friends. It’s a rarity that you would fall under that latter category, but the thought makes you excited nonetheless.

“Alright, so you wanna tell me a little bit about these friends that I’m seeing tonight?” You ask, gripping the handlebar above you but leaning towards Jimin so he can hear what you’re saying over the noise of the subway speeding down the tracks.

Jimin grins. “They’re just some friends I grew up with. We like to get together once a month to catch up and hang out, since everyone is so busy with their own lives.”

You smile back. “That’s actually really sweet of you guys, to plan hangouts once a month.”

He lightly flicks your forehead. “Hey, are you saying I’m normally not very sweet?”

“Well, not right now!” You protest, hand over your forehead. “That hurt.”

“You’re being a baby!” Jimin retorts back.

The pair of you continue to bicker like this until your stop is announced over the intercom. Jimin halts the further insults being thrown at each other as he gestures towards the approaching station, as seen through the window of the subway.

“This is our stop,” Jimin says to you, allowing you to step out onto the platform first. He joins behind you right after, leading the way as the subway’s three chimes signal the closing of the doors. There’s a breeze that follows, running through your hair and clothes as the subway zooms away to its next stop. The station itself is crowded, filled with groups of friends and individuals carrying on with the rest of their evening, overall looking so lively and you can feel yourself feeding off their energy.

With a gesture pointing up the stairs that’ll take the pair of you to ground level, Jimin leads the way. You make your way through people, following Jimin’s guide until you’re both exiting the station and entering the world of your new stop. It’s another area of the city you work in, so the change in scenery isn’t too dramatic—but it’s a place more catered towards restaurants, shopping areas, and hang-out sections. The bright neon signs protrude out from the building, flashing the various products or services the specific building offered: from manicure care to corner ramen shops.

“C’mon, let’s hurry!” Jimin calls back to you, picking his pace up slightly. He’s not running, but his long legs make it harder for you to keep up. “Everyone is already there.”

The pair of you continue to pace down the sidewalk, past the crowds of people waiting to eat, people lingering outside of clothing stores. Finally, Jimin slows down near a restaurant. He looks over his shoulder to make sure you’re still behind him, before entering the establishment. He mentions something about knowing where their seats are, before continuing deeper into the restaurant.

As you look around, the place does look like a restaurant slash bar—not as crazy as some of the bars Jimin takes you with the intention of actually getting drunk, but there’s still a bar here and there’s still alcohol being shared heavily. It’s the same demographic of early 20s, young adults with friends, but there are actual tables and chairs and booths set up like a restaurant. So you suppose Jimin hadn’t been lying to you about this.

“There they are!” Jimin says to you, as you look up and follow Jimin’s finger to the table in the far corner that is completely filled with the exception of two seats. You vaguely make out the back of some heads, most belonging to boys, before your eyes land on one of the boys facing you and Jimin. He’s sitting at the far end of the table, currently laughing brightly at something one of the boys at the table has said. For all intents and purposes, the boy is cute. Extremely cute. When he laughs, his eyes and nose crinkle and his lips spread into a wild smile—and brings out the dimple on his cheek. He looks like the embodiment of all your ideal types mashed into a singular being.

All of those things. Yet, that is not the reason why you are staring. None of those things come close to why you stop dead in your tracks, why your heart drops in your chest, why your eyes widen. Even with the shitty lighting in this restaurant, you are one hundred percent positive. “Jimin!” You manage to choke out, having enough well power to grab onto his hand seconds before he is able to make himself and yourself known to his friends.

He whirls around, wide-eyed and curious and worried. “What? Is everything okay?”

You shake your head. The room feels too small. “I think there’s something I should tell you—!”

“Hey, is that Jimin? Jimin!” Your voice is very easily drowned out by the sound of another, much louder voice that seems to boom through the restaurant.

Jimin turns back around in time to face one of the boys from the table who has gotten out of his seat. You are able to see him from over Jimin’s shoulder—a tall boy with messy unkempt hair and a boxy smile. Jimin greets him with a “Taehyung!” before the boys embrace. “Taehyungie,” Jimin continues afterwards, turning around so both are able to face you. “This is Y/N, she’s a coworker of mine.”

Taehyung grins, a friendly gesture that makes you relax. But only slightly. “Y/N! It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a bit about you from Jimin. All good things, I promise.”

“W-Well, that’s good to hear,” You manage shakily, eyes nervously darting to the boy at the end of the table, who has stopped his conversation and is now looking at you and Jimin.

“Let me introduce you,” Jimin says, breaking your concentration as he rests a hand on your shoulder. He points right at the boy at the end of the table, who is still staring at you. His eyebrows are furrowed together. You want to bury yourself alive. “That one over there is—!”

A lightbulb seems to go off in the boy’s head. His face breaks out into a smile as he points at you. “Hey, Y/N!”

Jimin looks taken aback at the fact you are being recognized by someone at the table. His hand lowers as he looks over at you.

You, however, cannot focus on Jimin. You can only focus on the boy at the end of the table, the boy currently smiling over at you with all the light in his eyes, the boy who makes the memories flash through your mind. From that, the best you can manage is a tiny smile. “Jungkook!”

Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. Where do you even begin with him?

You met Jungkook during your second year of university. He had been an arts major (you were not) and yet, your paths crossed multiple times throughout the quarter as a result of sharing many general education classes together. You even were forced to pair up on a project for one of those aforementioned G.E. classes. Neither of you ran in the same social circle, but that didn’t change how sweet, funny, charming, endearing, easy-going, friendly, smart, and nice Jungkook was. It was very easy for him to make friends, very easy for him to go out of his way to say hi to you in the library or in class or in the cafeteria, and very easy for him to strike up a basic conversation with you.

Because of that, it was very easy for you to fall for him—to develop a deep-rooted crush that went on for the rest of your university experience. You would use the term ‘friends’ very loosely when describing what your relationship with Jungkook had been. You had never hung out with him outside the context of school, never went out to eat with him, and never saw him again after graduation. Until now.

Actually, ‘acquaintances’ would probably be a much more fitting term.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you since graduation!” Jungkook is saying as he stands up from his chair and approaches you. As if on autopilot, you return the one armed hug he gives you. His smile, while still pleasant, holds a surprising tinge of shyness to it.

“Woah, hold on a second,” Jimin interrupts, immediately pointing between Jungkook and you. “You guys know each other?”

“Y/N and I went to university together!” Jungkook provides.

Jimin looks like his eyes are about to fall out of his sockets.

“We’ve known each other since second year,” Jungkook continues. He looks over at you. “I didn’t know you know Jimin.”

“Uh…” You forget how to speak. You’re too busy looking at Jungkook as if you haven’t seen him for years. In a way, it feels like that. Seeing people from college outside of college after a graduation ceremony is like meeting them again for the first time—most of them develop a more independent look. Some look like their life is seconds from falling apart. Some look much happier without the institutional pressure to secure classes and grades and internships. Sadly for you, Jungkook falls under the latter category. Did he always have that twinkle of starlight in his eyes?

“Y/N and I work together,” Jimin provides, seeming to realize that you weren’t going to answer Jungkook’s question. “She started working about a month ago.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” Jungkook replies, still looking at you. It is then he seems to notice that the three of you are standing in the middle of the restaurant. Although you are not distracting any patrons, the workers probably don’t appreciate it. “How about we sit down? We’ll be able to catch up more!”

Jimin seems to regain control of the situation quicker than you do, because he nods at Jungkook. “Let me introduce her to everyone, then we’ll join you.” You look over to where Jungkook had been sitting and immediately notice the previously empty two chairs right across from him—like fate, or something terrible like that.

So you watch as Jungkook makes his way back to his seat, and Jimin starts to guide you around the table. He only drops a name. Surprisingly, he doesn’t linger, he merely takes you to the next person. It only takes you a second to figure out why.

“You didn’t tell me you know Jungkook,” Jimin hisses in between the time it takes to travel in between people.

“I didn’t know you knew Jungkook!” You hiss back. You smile and nod politely at the person Jimin introduces as Yoongi. “Seriously, you never mentioned him once!”

Jimin only keeps his frustration for a moment before he’s introducing you to someone named Hoseok, a boy with a bright smile, the one who was making Jungkook laugh earlier. “Okay, fine,” He relents, the pair of you finally move to take your seats. “But what was that earlier?”

“What was what?”

“You were just staring at him! What, did you have a huge crush on him or something—?” Jimin accuses, but he stops. Just as the pair of you are about to sit down, Jimin parts his lips in realization. “Oh.” Then, he sends you an absolutely wicked grin. “Oh, okay.”

Your eyes widen at him, murder in your eyes. “Jimin!”

“So, Y/N,” Jungkook’s voice cuts through your little biting banter with Jimin.

You whirl around to face Jungkook, eyes completely devoid of murder and voice several pitches higher. “Hi, Jungkook!”

He smiles, such a wonderful little thing that makes your heart flutter in your chest. “Hi.”

Jimin ducks his head to hide the fact that he wants nothing more than to burst into fits of laughter.

“So how have you been?” Jungkook starts up. “I haven’t seen you since graduation. Since you landed a job, you seem to be doing well.”

“I am!” You manage, only continuing to try and keep a handle on your heart and managing well enough this time. “There were a few months of just scrolling through job postings and writing cover letter after cover letter though.”

Jungkook laughs, another beautiful gesture that makes you mirror his smile. “I definitely feel that.”

“Well, what about you? What have you been up to?” You ask. “I think I saw on your Instagram and you were traveling around for a little?”

His eyes light up at that. “Oh yeah! I don’t know if you remember Kim Mingyu from school?” You do. “Well, he and a friend of his got into some freelancing and had to do some traveling around to work on some filming. He asked me to come along because I actually have some photography experience. So that was a thing I did for a few months.”

You nod, smiling. “No way! That’s so cool.”

You do relax after a few conversational exchanges with Jungkook. He’s just as relaxed and mellow, yet friendly and polite as ever, and it’s easy to make conversation with him as it always has been. Eventually, you join in on the larger conversations with the whole table—touching on topics from your university experiences to tales from your new job. A lot of your role, however, falls to listening. Jimin’s friends are rowdy, funny, and out-going. They invite you in like you have been in this group for years—and are able to provide context on older memories they are revisiting.

Most of your evening, however, is engaging in conversation with Jungkook. Occasionally, Jimin will join in, but he does spend most of his time laughing along to something his other friends are saying. Since you and Jungkook have always been friendly with each other, long conversations aren’t out of the ordinary. You just never considered how well you and Jungkook got along, how easy it would be to transition from topic to topic.

“I am really glad that Jimin invited you along,” Jungkook explains brightly after the pair of you are done laughing following Jungkook’s tale of another fuck-ups with Kim Mingyu. “Makes you realize how small the world is.”

“Oh, you should have seen her moping around earlier today,” Jimin interjects, choosing now of all times to insert himself back into your conversation with Jungkook. “She was sighing all afternoon—so maybe we should thank her misery that I decided to invite her along tonight.”

Jungkook turns to you, a sympathetic look across his face. “Did you have a bad day today?”

You try for a laugh, waving away Jimin’s words. “Jimin’s just overreacting. Actually, I found out a friend of mine from college is getting married, so I was trying to figure out my plan…” You start, trailing off as you look at Jungkook. “Wait, you didn’t know Irene, did you?”

“I did.” His eyes widen as his lips part in realization. “Oh my god, you were invited to Irene’s wedding too?”

“I was!” You exclaim, unsure whether you should be excited or even more nervous at the prospect of potentially seeing Jungkook at the wedding event. “Holy shit, this makes it an even smaller world. How did you know Irene?”

Jungkook is still mid-giggle at the pure coincidence of everything. “We both knew Mingyu! This is so crazy. Are you planning to go?”

You shrug. Jimin chooses to interject once more. “That’s what Y/N over here was sighing all afternoon over.”

You whine as you look at Jimin. “No need to sell me out! Listen, Jungkook.” You turn back to the boy opposite of you, who is still gazing at you. “I’m sure you understand my current predicament.”

“Sure.”

“You know how expensive flights can be.”

“Of course.”

You fold your arms over each other and rest them on the table. “So, are you planning to go to the wedding?”

He nods. “Most likely, yeah. I actually knew that the wedding was going to be happening soon, since Mingyu told me about it as soon as Irene got the ring. I ran into the flight problem pretty quickly too, so I decided to just drive to the event.”

Jimin whistles. “Drive across the country, huh, JK? That must be a four day trip, or something.”

“It was coming out to be,” Jungkook acknowledges with a nod. “But it’s okay.” He’s grinning, looking excited at the prospect. “I’ve never done a cross country drive before, so it was actually kind of exciting to plan the route. There are a few places I want to stop by and visit. I’m sure it’ll be fun.” Then, Jungkook turns back to you. “If you decide that flying would be too expensive, then you’re more than welcome to come along. It’ll be nice to have some company and not spend four days by myself.”

Entirely on instinct, you start to laugh. You think he’s joking—how could you not? This is probably one of the longest conversations you’ve ever had with Jungkook. Like you’ve mentioned before, you wouldn’t consider him a friend. Why would he seriously try to invite you on a road trip? “Yeah, I’m not too sure—I’ve never done a cross country trip before…”

The conversation shifts pretty quickly as soon as you reply back to Jungkook. Hoseok asks you a question that drags your attention away, simultaneously allowing you to forget about Jungkook’s request.

The end of the dinner happens soon after, when the bill has been paid and you suspect the long line of people outside waiting for a table are waiting for your party to be done. So venmo exchanges and money debts go around until each member of the table starts standing up one by one to make their move to exit the restaurant.

You and Jimin are one of the first to leave. Goodbyes are exchanged along with the polite ‘it was nice to meet you’ phrase thrown around. Jungkook is mid-conversation with Yoongi, but he still gives you a quick hug of parting before you and Jimin exit the restaurant.

The pair of you only make it out a few steps before there is a familiar voice calling your name. “Hey, Y/N! Y/N, wait up!” You stop and turn around, surprised to see Jungkook dashing out of the restaurant. He rests himself for a moment before he’s straightening back up to look at you.

You try for a smile. “Hey Jungkook, what’s up?”

He takes in a few more deep breaths to calm himself—either from the dashing he just did or to steel himself for the next question, you don’t know. “It’s about me inviting you to drive up to Irene’s wedding—I just thought I’d let you know it was a serious invitation. Having the company would be nice, and you wouldn’t be a burden to me, seriously. Besides, it’ll be fun to spend some time together.”

“O-Oh,” You stammer, wringing your hands together. “I’m not too sure… I still have to think about it.”

“Of course, of course,” Jungkook dismisses good naturedly. “Just thought I’d let you know, so you know that you do have options.”

Although the offer makes you nervous, you cannot dismiss Jungkook’s thoughtfulness. You give him a more relaxed smile. “I really appreciate that Jungkook, thank you.”

He smiles at your smile. “No problem! Actually…” He digs around for the wallet in his pocket and produces a little card. “Here’s my business card—my cell phone number is on here so just text or call if you decide to join me. Or,” He presses his lips into a more bashful smile. “You can just text me whenever for whatever reason. I just thought I’d let you know that it was good to see you again.”

You take the card slowly, unable to look away from Jungkook’s face. He looks so genuine and shy that it doesn’t help your own racing heart. “It was good to see you too, Jungkook…” You return, albeit a little breathlessly.

He smiles again, dimples pressing in his cheek (and your heart). He turns to Jimin “Oh yeah, nice seeing you too Park.”

“Hey.” Jimin hits him on the shoulder. “I’m your hyung, you should show me more respect!”

“My bad, my bad.” Jungkook doesn’t apologize though. His gaze flickers to yours one more time, gaze looking strangely hopeful. “I’ll see you guys around.” He walks backwards a few paces before turning around and returning to the restaurant. Maybe to see his other friends.

Either way, it doesn’t matter. You are still screaming internally regardless—as shown through your red cheeks, widened eyes, and singing heart. Jimin will certainly never let you live this moment down.

Now, you are screaming externally. You don’t even give a thought or an explanation. You simply walk into your apartment, nosedive for the couch, and start yelling into one of the throw pillows.

There’s a rapid movement of footsteps coming from down the hallway almost immediately, one that grows gradually louder until the owner of the steps starts speaking. “Who the fuck is out there? I’ve played softball my entire life and therefore will not hesitate to drive this bat so far up your ass—oh, Y/N.” The voice lowers significantly, as does the threat level it emits into the air. “It’s just you.”

You lift your face from the throw pillow, and immediately brush away at the hair that falls in your face. “What the fuck!” You croak, pushing yourself into a sitting position and pointing at the bat in Karly’s hands. “What are you doing threatening me with a bat? You’ve never played a game of softball in your life!”

“Oh, this isn’t mine. It’s Soonyoung’s.” Soonyoung is Karly’s boyfriend from high school, who used to play baseball on the high school team. How Karly has her boyfriend’s baseball bat is a mystery, but it’s something you think you are better off not asking about. She places the bat down on the carpet next to the coffee table. “But I should be asking you the questions, you bitch! You scared the shit out of me!”

You sigh, throwing your head to rest on the back of the couch. “Sorry, sorry. Had a crazy day.”

Karly ponders this as she moves to take a seat next to you. “You seemed fine when you texted me about you getting drinks with Jimin. Did something happen during the dinner?”

You straighten up again and grip Karly by the arm. “Okay, don’t scream.”

“You mean like you did?” Karly retorts dryly.

You shake her. “I’m serious!” When Karly doesn’t say anything, you take it as a sign to continue with your story. “I saw Jungkook.”

Karly blinks, then grabs your arm right back. “Wait, Jeon Jungkook, as in the guy you’ve been crushing on since second year?”

“Yes!” You whine, throwing yourself onto the couch all over again.

“The one you had to work together on a project with and nearly cried even though you guys just had to submit a paper?”

“Yes!”

“The one who said hi to you in the library that one time and you tried to put your elbow on the table afterwards but you missed and hit your head instead?”

You pause, scowling. “Okay, now you’re just being mean. Are you done?”

Karly is laughing. “Oh my god. What are the chances of you seeing him now?”

“There’s more,” You groan out.

“Really? Honestly that yell could have been just for seeing him again and that would have made sense—!”

You ignore her. “He’s friends with Jimin. He’s friends with Irene, too. He was invited to her wedding.”

“Wait, Jimin is friends with Irene or Jungkook is friends with Irene—?”

“He won’t pay for the flight though. It’s too expensive. I can attest to that.”

Karly holds a finger up, trying to connect the dots. “When did you look up flight prices—?”

“So he invited me on a cross country road trip to Irene’s wedding.”

Karly frowns.

You sigh. “Jungkook invited me on a cross country road trip to Irene’s wedding.”

“Oh! Oh!” Karly’s eyes widen. “Oh my god, that’s huge. Are you gonna go?”

“I don’t know!” You whine. “Jungkook mentioned it would be a four day drive to get there. I don’t know if I can survive four days in a car with him! We’ve never been that close, what if it gets awkward?”

Karly ponders this. “I really don’t think it’s in Jungkook’s nature to be awkward with someone—especially someone he’s had a history with.” She sees the look of disbelief you give her. “Well, even if that history was really limited. What makes you think it’ll be awkward? Was it awful seeing him tonight?”

“No!” You cry, straightening into a sitting position so your legs drape over the side of the couch. You force yourself to calm down. “It… it was pretty good actually.”

Karly raises an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Really now.”

“Yeah…” You reply, trailing off. “We sat across from each other during the dinner and we talked most of the night, surprisingly. I guess because we were sort of acquaintances we’ve always known about each other, so it wasn’t like we didn’t know how to ask questions to each other. And Jungkook… he’s easy to talk to as he’s always been and he’s so nice and positive and he has a dimple on his cheek when he smiles…” You finish slowly, noticing your racing heart that has come up as a result of this conversation and of your memory. You realize the predicament you’re in, further emphasized by Karly’s growing grin. You groan. “Shut up.”

Karly looks like a Cheshire cat. “I didn’t say anything.”

You grab onto one of the throw pillows and properly hit her in the face. “You’re saying many things right now, you bitch!”

Karly takes the pillow from you and proceeds to whack you in the shoulder. “Not outloud!”

“So you admit it!” You accuse, pointing at her.

Karly yells. “Just admit you still have a crush on him!”

Your groan turns into a cry. “Don’t say it outloud! Now I have to deal with it!”

Your roommate sighs. “Bitch, I can tell you exactly how to deal with this. You’re gonna go on this road trip with Jungkook and see if you guys vibe—you honestly will not find a better way to discover your compatibility with him. If it works out, then you get more than a plus one to the wedding. If it doesn’t work out, just skip the wedding and take the first flight back home. Cut off your friendship with Jimin while you’re at it—it’s the only way to ensure you’ll never have to run into Jungkook again.”

You pout. “That seems a little dramatic.”

Karly thinks for a second, then she nudges you. “Remind me again about that quote your high school English teacher used to always parade around.”

You stare at her for a moment, because you know exactly what point she’s trying to make. Still, you decide to humor her. And yourself. “‘You’ll never know if you’ll sink, swim, or float, until you’re willing to take the plunge’.” You level Karly with another gaze. Your friend has a point. You missed any chance to hang out with Jungkook during your college years—partly because your friend groups never intersected, but mostly because of your internalized fear of fucking up. But now that you are just a little older and just a little more versed in the art of conversing and befriending—maybe Karly is right. Maybe this is your chance to see if a different set of timing could make a difference.

So you sigh.

“I guess I should text Jungkook, huh.”

Karly pats you on the shoulder. “Take the plunge, my dude.”

You do take the plunge. You take Jungkook’s business card out from the pocket of your dress and dial the number. He expresses excitement—and also relief.

These things lead up to the current moment. Eight o’clock in the morning: you lingering in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, your suitcase by the door, and a roommate keeping you company.

You don’t realize how nervous you are until you get a text from Jungkook.

Jungkook (8:03am): i’m here! u can buzz me up so i can help u with your stuff :)

You (8:03am): it’s ok jungkook it’s just a suitcase. i’ll be down in a second!

You pocket your phone, and Karly can read the expression across your face before you realize what is going on. She straightens up. “He’s here?”

“Yeah.” You rinse your coffee cup and make your way towards the door. “Did you want to come down with me?”

Karly stops and gives you a look. “I thought that was already implied.”

“Well, thanks, that’s really nice—!”

“Someone has to give you an embarrassing goodbye.”

“There it is.” You sigh. You don’t say anything as you and Karly exit the apartment and make your way down the hall into the elevator. It only takes a few seconds for the elevator to lower down to the ground floor, where you and Karly exit and make your way to the front of the apartment complex.

You swear your heart beats just a little faster as soon as you see Jungkook near the front entrance of the building. He’s wearing a pair of black jackets with an oversized denim jacket and currently looking down at his phone—overall appearing so tall and pretty and otherworldly. For a brief second, you are taken by the fact that for the next four days, he’ll be yours.

Jungkook looks up as soon as he hears the door opening and he smiles. “Hey you.”

You smile, albeit a little lopsided and dreamy. “Hi.”

Jungkook walks towards you immediately. “Here, let me help you with that.” He reaches a hand out and gently takes the handle of your suitcase before you can say anything. Just as he’s taking the suitcase from you, Karly emerges from the building. “Oh, sorry about that.”

Karly waves him off. “Don’t be. I’m Y/N’s roommate—I’m just here to see her off.”

Jungkook stares at her for a moment, then he snaps his fingers. “Wait, I remember you. You went to college with us too.” He jerks his chin towards you. “You hung out with Y/N a lot, right?”

“Yeah, I’m Karly.” She holds out her hand for Jungkook to shake. “And you’re right, she and I hung out a lot. We were roommates back then too.”

Jungkook nods in understanding, before shoving his hand into his pocket. His other hand is still holding onto your suitcase. “Well, I promise to take good care of Y/N.”

Karly smacks her teeth against the side of her mouth as she points at him. “You’re a good man, Jungkook.” She pauses for a moment, seeming to contemplate a new thought. You recognize the look immediately, and your fingers twitch as if you want to strangle her. Or at least let her know you’re throwing her a look of murderous intent. But of course, Karly doesn’t see it. And even if she had, you doubt she’d care. “But no funny business, alright.”

You gape at her. “Karly!”

Jungkook coughs at that. “I-It’s just a drive—y-you don’t need to worry about that.” He does, however, turn away to hide the red that dusts his cheeks.

As soon as Jungkook’s back is facing you, you whirl around to shoot Karly with a glare. “Karly, you’re lucky I’m leaving for the next four days or I would not hesitate to figure out how to make stuffocation look like an accident!” You hiss out between teeth without taking a breath.

Karly glares right back. “You’re really dumb, aren’t you? The fact that he recognizes me because he saw you hanging out with me on campus doesn’t strike any chords? Even though, like you said, you guys weren’t really friends?”

You blink. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Karly widens her eyes. “What the fuck do you mean? Are you dumb with all the boys or just Jungkook?”

“What do you mean!” You snap back.

“So, Y/N, ready to go?”

You whirl back around to find Jungkook now standing in front of you and Karly. He must have finished packing your suitcase in the trunk of his car and is now looking over at you with a tilt in his head.

So you force a smile. “Of course,” You say, turning to Karly. “I was just saying bye to my roommate.”

He nods in understanding, sparing one more glance at Karly before seeming to decide against it because he looks away. He’s still a little red at Karly’s previous comment. “We should get going then.”

“Sure.” You look over at your roommate. “See you, bitch.”

Karly waves back, grinning wildly. You just know she has several other thoughts she’d like to share with you, but has probably deemed you embarrassed enough. Lucky for you, she keeps her mouth shut.

Unlucky for you, without Karly to be a barrier of distraction, this leaves you alone with Jungkook. You slide into the passenger seat of his car, still not yet processing the weight of what you’ve just agreed to. You fiddle alone for a second before Jungkook is opening the driver’s side and shifting into his seat.

There is a silence as Jungkook is starting the car, and a part of you wants to die. Or at least have the ground swallow you whole. Holy fuck, what did you just sign up for?

Your mind somehow takes five seconds to turn into complete shambles that you almost miss Jungkook’s question.

“Here, I’m giving you an important mission,” Jungkook says, rummaging through the various chords that lay over the center console before producing an aux cord. “Should you choose to accept.”

He’s got on such a serious expression you momentarily forget about your anxiety. His usage of the iconic line from Mission Impossible makes you laugh—a breathy sort of noise that escapes when your mind is too full. You still take the aux cord. “Oh my god—ever heard of bluetooth?”

He pouts. “It hasn’t even been five minutes and you’re already insulting my beautiful Celia!”

You raise both your eyebrows. “Celia?”

“Yeah, that’s the name of my car.” He catches the bewildered look you give him before angling himself back to face the steering wheel, where he shifts his console into drive and makes a turn onto the main street. “If you’re already weirded out by the fact I have a name for my baby, then you’re in for a very long four days, Miss. Y/N.”

You giggle, feeling that distraction of nerves start to come off your shoulders. “Not weird at all.” You pause. “Ryan is the name of my car.”

“Ah!” He holds one arm out in a grand gesture. “You see, not so strange after all.” He steals a glance at you, watching as you’re about to connect your phone to the aux cord. “Wait!” He says, pointing a finger at you.

You look up at him, wide eyes.

He’s still holding an arm up. “How’s your music taste?”

You’re still giving him your surprised expression. “You scared me!”

He laughs, returning his hand back to the steering wheel. “Sorry, sorry. I have to ask though—I’d rather know now than later, so I can kick you out and not feel as bad about it.”

Your laughter seems to melt away the last of your nervous energy. “Nice to know you’re putting all your cards out now.” You look down at your phone. “Regarding my music taste… it’s whatever you want dude! I have some lo-fi on here, some pop, alternative, Broadway, anime openings… an ‘everything’ playlist. Honestly, the world is your oyster.”

“How about we start with your ‘everything’ playlist,” Jungkook suggests. “That way I can judge you immediately.”

“Were you always this charming, Jeon Jungkook?” You retort. “Or has graduation changed you?”

“Oh, I’ve always been this charming—you just never noticed.”

That comment, however, goes over your head as you focus down on your playlist. You look over, selecting the shuffle option as Taylor Swift’s soft music from her newest album fills the air. Another silence fills the car, but it’s much more peaceful and comfortable. You allow yourself to settle further into the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car.

“So,” You start after a moment. Jungkook hums to let you know he’s paying attention. “What inspired the name Celia?”

Jungkook brightens at the question. “She was this character from a book I read when I was younger. The Night Circus? Anyways, the book is about these two illusionists who try to one up each other with their skills of magic, but they end up falling in love. Celia is the name of one of those illusionists.”

You grin. “Sounds like a very cute crush.”

Jungkook grins back.

The drive out of the city continues like this. The pair of you cover the topic of books, of music, of your favorite animes. Jungkook just has this magical power of ensuring the tension dissipates from your mind and stays gone—whether it’s through his relaxed nature or easy-going teasing or his ability to ease the conversation from one topic to the next. It feels like every conversation you and Jungkook had in college, whether vague or circling around classes, all have led up to this moment. It seems like everytime you or Jungkook run out of things to talk about pertaining to a certain topic, you would bring up memories from college and just continue from there. Everything feels natural.

It continues to feel natural even as you and Jungkook slowly start to see the edges of the city landscape fade away. The high rises fade into shorter buildings and smaller business areas that surround the bustling city scene. You watch as those buildings and business areas become rows of houses. Residential areas in the suburbs, passing by the occasional school or corner restaurants.

“Before we enter the wide unknown,” Jungkook starts up, breaking the quiet that has enveloped the car. “You want to pick up lunch? You hungry?”

You haven’t even realized how much time has gone by until you look at the clock on Jungkook’s dashboard and notice that it’s past noon. You widen your eyes at the sight. “Wow, I didn’t even realize so much time had passed.”

“Yeah, we drove through a few cities. Time flies when you’re having fun, huh?”

“You wish,” You tease, sticking your tongue out. “So, what, do we stop at a Cheesecake factory or something?”

Jungkook blinks. “I thought you were poor—why would we stop at the Cheesecake factory? And why is that the first restaurant that comes to your mind?”

You wave your hands. “It was just a suggestion!”

“Well, I’m realizing that I should probably let you know that the motel I picked for us to drive to tonight is pretty far out—Google Maps says we probably won’t get there until midnight, and that’s with us driving straight through.”

“Midnight? Fuck, Jungkook. Will we make it to the wedding a day early or something?”

“Ha, ha, no. I’ll go over the schedule I planned out tomorrow. Basically, I want to try and cover most of our ground on the first day so we can take the rest of the trip easy. But I thought I’d let you know now that sitting in a restaurant probably won’t be the most time responsible idea.”

“That’s true.” You look out the window again and see the golden arches of McDonalds appear within your line of sight. “Let’s just stop at McDonalds.”

Jungkook follows your gaze. “Alright, down. Let’s do it.”

He exits off the freeway, following down a route that takes him almost immediately towards the McDonalds parking lot. Since this restaurant is still within the lines of the city, it’s not completely deserted. There are a few cars in the parking lot, even fewer cars in the drive-through line. Because of this, ordering the food only takes a few minutes. Both of you get chicken nuggets, sodas, and large orders of french fries.

“You know, we’re really living like kings,” You comment as Jungkook drives out and makes his way back onto the freeway. “College graduates, both somehow able to secure a job, and still ordering chicken mcnuggets.”

Jungkook shrugs. “I wasn’t told this is what adulthood would be like. But I’m not complaining. My 10-year-old self is singing in so much joy right now.” He says this as he’s stuffing a handful of fries into your mouth. You laugh, and hand him a napkin.

You turn the music back on. The pair of you silently munch on your chicken nuggets, as you angle your head towards the side window once again. As Jungkook drives, the numbers of structural spaces become more scattered the longer you both continue down the freeway.

The anime opening to Haikyuu starts playing when you turn back to Jungkook and realize that he’s trying to close the box of his chicken nuggets. You move right away, taking the cardboard from him and closing it yourself. “Let me know if you need anything, Jungkook. Think of me as your co-pilot.”

He laughs gently. “Is that the rule of the passenger seat?”

You shrug, putting the empty box into the McDonalds bag near your feet. “For me at least. Everytime I do one of these drives with family, the person in the passenger seat has to open the snacks, make conversation, and always stay awake with the driver. It’s just courtesy.”

Jungkook is smiling softly now, mostly to himself, but it lights the corners of his eyes that makes you momentarily unable to look away. “You wanna tell me about your family?”

So you do. Your voice becomes softer as you continue, but Jungkook listens to every single word you say.

True to his observation, it’s not long before the pair of you are surrounded by the wide unknown. Houses in the suburbs become farmhouses and farms. Conversations fade from your family to another comfortable silence as you continue gazing out the window. Jungkook requests your lo-fi playlist at some point, filling the car with the soft and distorted hums. It allows your mind to wander as you stare out the window. The empty stretches of land around you are filled with greenery, with mountains, cutting right through the perfect blue of the sky above you.

By 4:00PM, your entire body is starting to feel the ache of having been seated for long hours on end. You feel the tightness in the muscles of your thigh, the bones in your knees.

Jungkook must be feeling the same, because as soon as a sign for a rest stop comes on, he exits the freeway and pulls into a large parking lot. There’s a restroom on the side, but the area is surrounded by trees with mountains standing in the background.

Jungkook stops the car. “We should get out for a bit to move our legs.”

You’re already tugging on the latch that’ll open the car door. “I’m already feeling it in my knees.” You open the door and immediately extend your legs out onto the solid ground beneath you. You let out a sigh of satisfaction, and Jungkook laughs from next to you.

He’s opening his own car door soon after, but he straightens up into a standing position pretty quickly and stretches upwards. He closes the car door behind him, watching as you eventually pull yourself together to do the same.

You turn to face Jungkook. “I’m gonna use the restroom.” You gesture towards the building and earn a nod from Jungkook, who mentions something about doing the same thing. You meet back at the car a few minutes later.

Jungkook gestures to the trees surrounding the parking lot. “Want to take a walk around the area? Keep the blood flowing to our legs.”

You nod. “That sounds like a good idea.”

“Why don’t you get started. I’ll catch up.” Jungkook watches you leave, before opening the trunk of his car and rummaging around.

He does catch up with you, quickly enough that you hardly notice that he had sent you out first. You hear his footsteps, and the call of your name. You turn around. “Jungkook!”

The sight before you makes you waver slightly, as bouts of shyness overtake you. Standing before you is Jungkook, with his camera in hand. The lens is pointed right at you. As soon as you’re staring straight into the camera, Jungkook grins. “Say hi!”

You whine, whirling back around and covering your face. “Are you filming me right now?”

“I’m a photographer at heart, what did you expect?” Jungkook teases back. “Besides, it’s really pretty around here. You think I won’t film it?”

You snort, starting your walk around the parking lot. “Oh yeah, because there aren’t any parking lots and trees and bathroom stops at home.”

Jungkook is quiet for a second. “That’s not what I meant.”

You turn to stare right into the lens of his camera. “Then the mountains, right?”

He’s quiet for another second. “Sure.” He does, however, sound a little disappointed. You do not notice this.

The pair of you stay quiet as you make your round around the parking lot, taking in the mountains from different angles. The walk around is mostly just to rid of the sensation of your legs falling off, but it’s still a nice view to admire. As soon as you finish a complete round, you and Jungkook return back to the car. You watch as he carefully places his camera into his camera bag before you’re both back in your seats.

Jungkook turns to you. “Ready to get going again?” He looks at the control panel behind his steering wheel. “We’ll probably have to stop for gas in a few hours. But after that, it’s straight to the hotel.”

You settle back into the passenger seat. “I guess we already have our dinner plans then.” You’re referring to the gas station.

Jungkook grins. “I’m down for that.”

And so, the trip continues back on the freeway. With the lo-fi playing in the background, you watch as the sun tears through the blue sky, as the sun finally begins it’s dip to the other side. The singular color once spread across the pane of atmosphere now conjugates around the sun crawling behind the mountain—creating a diffusion of new colors. The corner of the mountain emits an explosion of oranges, pinks, and purples.

You lift your head from the window, eyes taking in the rainbow of pastels around the now fading sun. “Wow, Jungkook, look at that sunset.”

He snorts. “You wanna talk about things that you can’t see back in the city?”

You pout. “But it looks so pretty, see!” You keep gesturing towards the sunset.

Jungkook relents just enough to spare a glance in the direction. He hums. “Yeah, it’s pretty.” He looks back at the road. “Can’t really find a view like that in the city.”

You spend a little more time admiring the sunset than Jungkook does, for obvious reasons. You’ve seen a sunset plenty of times before in the past, but the context of this whole situation makes you unable to look away from it. You’re really out here, stuck in a car with someone you have never hung out with for longer than a few minutes. But you are enjoying yourself. There's peace in that.

So you watch until the sun dips below the mountain, momentarily leaving the sky in a navy color.

The next time Jungkook speaks, the area around you is much darker, and the sky is nearly black. “You hungry now?”

You lift your head from the seat, not even realizing you were drifting off. You’re thinking about Irene, wondering if you should have texted her directly congratulating her on the wedding rather than just simply sending in the RSVP. “Sure. We eat as the car eats, right?”

Jungkook smiles, a gesture you can barely make out from the headlines. “Of course.”

This goes on for a few more miles until the sign for a gas station comes up. A few other cars linger near the dispensers. Jungkook parks near his choice and gets out of the car. You follow behind him. He’s already sliding his credit card into the machine, and the sight makes you reach over to grab his wrist.

“I should pay, you’ve been driving all day!”

He shakes his head, waving you off. “We’ll take turns, okay?” He looks at you. “Buy me dinner tonight too, that sound fair?”

You pout, leaning back as you cross your arms. “Not really, but I guess I’ll have to accept it.”

He grins. “You are correct.”

As soon as the gas pump alerts you of the filled tank, Jungkook returns the pump back to the machine and locks his car. Together, the two of you make your way towards the convenience store, where the bell above rings to alert the workers of your presence. Nods are exchanged as you and Jungkook tear through the aisles to find anything that could satisfy your cravings. You return back with family size bags of hot cheetos and beef jerky, while Jungkook holds his selection of roasted seaweed and Doritos. You select your drinks together before returning to the cashier.

It’s nearing 9:00PM as you and Jungkook return back to his car, where you slide back into your seats and immediately tear into your bags of salt and sodium.

“How are you doing?” You ask as Jungkook finishes his first bag of roasted seaweed.

Jungkook pulls out his phone, scrolling through the final stretch needed to reach the hotel. “Yeah, about four more hours to the motel.” He looks over at you. “I’m good. The salt in this seaweed really helps. How are you doing?”

You nod immediately. “Great. Perfect.”

He smiles, shifting his console to drive and pulling out of the gas station. “I’m used to these weird hours. Remember how I told you I traveled around a bit with Mingyu and Wonwoo? There was this one day we only slept for an hour or something? It sucked, I think I almost passed out that day. But yeah, this is honestly not even that bad.” He turns to look at you. “I think the good company helps, too.”

You roll your eyes, grinning. “You flatter me, Jeon.”

Slowly, 8PM turns into 10PM. One glance at Google maps tells you that you’re still two hours from the hotel. Even though you’re not the one driving, and although you haven’t endured any physical activity that could result in this exhaustion, you still find yourself growing tired. Something about sitting under the sun, sitting in a vehicle that rocks side to side with a consistent hum—it makes your mind work slowly and therefore brings out the sleepiness quicker.

You settle deeper into your seat.

Jungkook giggles from next to you. “You tired already?”

You pout slowly, eyes closed just enough. “I’m not a morning person and you made me wake up at 8!”

“Sure, sure, of course.”

There’s a pause.

You ponder a question for a moment. It’s something that you would never dare ask Jungkook if you had been more awake and more alert. But you’re tired, and your defenses are lowered, and it means you are more prone to asking questions. “Hey, Jungkook? Did you have any girlfriends when we were in college?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer immediately. “Where’s this coming from?” He asks instead.

You shrug, making a dismissive noise as your shoulders rise up. “Curiosity.”

A pause. “I went on a few dates, but I never had a serious relationship.”

“No way.” You lift your head up from the seat. “But I remember seeing you hang out with the occasional girl in the quad, or at some restaurants around the school.”

Jungkook smiles. It’s hard to read the look in his eyes. They’re focused on the road in front of him, but they seem almost hazy and faraway. “Like I said, I went on a few dates. I did really want to get into a long term relationship in college. A lot of my friends had them, that’s where my parents met, so I was really open to the idea of at least experimenting. There were a lot of girls that I thought were nice, easy-going, or just really pretty, so I tried my hand in the whole dating thing.”

“And it didn’t work out?” You coax out gently.

“Not really,” He continues. He steals a glance at you. “We’d go on a few dates, but none of them ever felt substantial. I think girls see me and have a certain expectation—an expectation I couldn’t meet. So I never could picture myself in a long term relationship with any of them.”

You tilt your head towards him. “There must have been someone…”

“Well… there was one girl.” Jungkook starts after a moment. He’s not looking at you this time. “We had a few classes together earlier—we weren’t in the same major program. I don’t even know if I’d say we were close or anything. We just had a few classes and saw each other around on occasion. But the conversations we did have during class or outside of class just felt more real. Honestly, I could have been totally wrong about her. I could have just been blinded by all these expectations I was putting on her, which is ironic. But she was the only person I could actually see myself being in a long term relationship with. Or at least try.”

You hum, still facing towards him in your seat. “Why didn’t you try anything then? You’re a good guy, Jungkook. I’m sure she would have wanted to try with you too.”

“I guess I was just afraid of pushing it and scaring her off. I thought it was better to stay friends with her than try to pursue something. She never gave me an indication that she felt the same.”

“And how do you feel now?”

There’s a pause this time. “I don’t know honestly. We remained friends up until graduation but, uh, never saw her again. I do wonder from time to time how she’s doing.”

“You should reach out to her,” You advise softly. “Since you guys were friends before, I’m sure asking her out just to catch up won’t seem so weird.” You grin at him. “You need to make your move.”

It is then that Jungkook turns to look at you. He looks for a little longer this time, eyes focused entirely on you. Underneath the small crescent of the moon above, you are still able to make out his facial features. His cheeks, his nose, his eyes—the latter is glimmering, like he knows something that you don’t.

“I’m working on that,” He mumbles softly. You turn your head back towards the road.

You wake up the next morning feeling groggy, dirty, and messy. Your head lifts up from a pillow you can only vaguely remember falling on, laying on top of a bed you only vaguely remember throwing yourself in. There’s sunlight pouring into the room, but it feels like early morning sun. There’s a crisp in the air that you can feel, that you see out of the window. Right outside is the gathering of bushes and trees, a bright blue sky.

You are in the motel.

Slowly, you push yourself into a sitting position, until you’re resting atop the white linen of your bed. Across the room, snuggled in his own twin bed, is Jungkook. His lashes are fanning across his cheekbones, his lips are parted, and his breathing is slow and soft.

It isn’t until Jungkook shifts in bed that you realize you’ve been watching him like a creep. Hastily, you tear your gaze away and decide to focus your gaze down. You notice immediately that you are not underneath the blankets. Instead, you are lying underneath Jungkook’s jacket.

You roll the jacket off your frame, discovering that you are still in last night’s clothes—which explains why you were feeling so groggy and discombobulated. You look across the floor of the hotel room. Your suitcase is near the foot of your bed, and your phone sits on your nightstand connected to your charger.

Vaguely, you recall what had happened the previous night—how Jungkook drove into the hotel room nearing midnight and the exhaustion was so overpowering that you and Jungkook blindly asked for any room with two twin beds before following through and practically collapsing into your respected beds.

You definitely did that, which explains why you were on top of the bed, why you’re still in yesterday’s clothes, and why Jungkook’s jacket was your blanket. Stealing another glance at Jungkook: underneath the blankets and in a different t-shirt—you can assume that he was able to take a shower before lying down.

With a sigh, you push off Jungkook’s jacket and lay it down on the bed next to you. Hoping not to disturb Jungkook, you slide out of bed and lower your suitcase to the ground. After fishing out a new set of clothes, you decide to take a shower.

The warmth from the shower is the best breath of fresh air you’ve gotten since hitting the road with Jungkook. It feels like your body is going through a battery recharge, and it’s one you take your time with. You step out of the shower, running the towel through your hair and drying yourself enough to slip on your outfit for the day. The towel is thrown around your neck as you step out of the shower, letting the steam follow you out of the bathroom.

Jungkook is still sleeping as you step out, which is good otherwise you’d feel bad for having disturbed his sleep time. After all the driving he did yesterday, you figure he deserves a few extra hours regardless of what the schedule calls for.

You continue running the towel through your hair as you pick up your phone. Strangely, you do not remember connecting it to a charger before knocking out, but you pick it up regardless to see the 9:00AM time across your screen.

There’s a quiet that takes over, in which you’re sitting perched comfortably on your bed and scrolling through your phone as Jungkook continues to drift a few feet away from you.

About thirty minutes seem to pass before Jungkook is moaning softly to himself, letting out a puff of air as he slowly opens his eyes. His arms extend above him, knocking into the headboard and making him curse softly to himself. His eyes open as he lowers his hands to inspect the damage before immediately looking over towards you.

He blinks, a tired smile overtaking his lips as he arches his back into a stretch. “Hey,” He greets, voice rough and scratchy and making your heart clench. Damn thing. “You’re awake. You knocked out pretty quickly as soon as we got the room.”

You laugh. “Yeah, I honestly figured that.” You pick up his jacket, as if he hadn’t been the one to lay it on you those hours ago. “Thanks for trying to help me get comfortable.” You gesture towards the nightstand. “Did you find my charger too?”

Jungkook sits up as he continues a small round of stretches and yawns. “I did,” He says. “You were barely coherent, but made enough sense to tell me where it was in your bag. Sorry for going through it, by the way.”

You shake your head, waving him off. “No worries. Thank you again, Jungkook.”

The pair of you stare at each other for a few moments, before that silence is broken by Jungkook’s phone going off. You look down as Jungkook snatches his own phone off the nightstand. He scrolls through something, before placing it back.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” You ask, bringing your fingers through your hair to comb and give you a distraction.

“Oh! Right.” Jungkook swings his legs off the side of the bed. “We have a slower day today. The hotel I picked is only about five hours away? We’re driving through the mountains today, so there’s this place I want to visit that has a little restaurant and everything. It’ll be a cute pit stop.”

You nod. “Awesome, okay.” You curl your fingers around the strands of now loose strands of hair.

It takes another hour until you and Jungkook are packed up again and ready to leave. A quick stop to the lobby provides both of you with a bagel and cup of coffee each as your breakfast. All before you’re once again sliding into the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car.

You roll your shoulders before clicking your seatbelt in. “Ready for another long day?”

“Of course.” He digs through his center console, producing his aux cord. “Your mission,” He says dramatically, not unlike yesterday. “Should you choose to accept.”

You laugh gently, taking the cord. “You in love with Mission Impossible or something? This is the second time in two days you’re quoting it to me.”

And this is how your day starts off—talks of Mission Impossible films that bleed into conversations about movies.

The day at 10 o’clock in the morning is bright and blue as Jungkook drives back onto the freeway and continues down the road. The first few hours consist of the surrounding flatland, of green grass and high mountains all around. Conversations between you and Jungkook are a little more scattered today, but there’s a new level of comfort about the situation. With both of you well rested, it invites a more relaxed atmosphere as you pass the occasional joke or story time between the pair of you.

As the sun continues to travel higher in the sky, Jungkook’s car starts it’s approach up the mountain. The trees start enveloping the pair of you into a newer, higher world. Not only that, but whenever you and Jungkook reach a clearing, it exposes a dip of lakes, grass, and mountains. And you, always having enjoyed the views of nature, keep an open eye for every single thing.

You see Jungkook’s choice of destination before he does, and you gasp excitedly.

Up ahead is a cloud of pink, white, and red flowers covering an entire mountain side. There is an occasional pop of cedar trees amongst the covering of pink, white, and red, but the colors are so poignant that it captures your attention immediately.

You point to it. “Is that where we’re going?”

Jungkook grins. “Surprise!” He’s selected this spot before offering the invitation to let you come along, but you’re not complaining. You’ve never been to a flower farm before, despite having heard about them and seen pictures of them for most of your childhood. You continue to watch with wide eyes and bright smiles as Jungkook drives closer and closer to the destination, finally parking in the appropriate lot after paying the fee.

You’re practically vibrating in your seat with excitement. “Jungkook, Jungkook, c’mon let’s go, let’s go!” You push on the latch and nearly tumble out onto the ground. You straighten to stand on your feet, before meeting Jungkook near the trunk of his car. Surprise, surprise, he pulls out his camera and loops the strap over his head.

He’s grinning as he closes the trunk. “You’re a little excited, aren’t you?”

“A little?” You echo, clapping your hands, seemingly unable to wipe the grin off your face. “Jungkook, this is a flower farm! It’s so exciting!”

So you dart off with Jungkook following closely behind you. The parking lot is located at the top of the flower farm, so the tour around the fields is a downwards one towards the bottom. A small pathway maps out a route for you to follow as you take in the various lines of flowers and colors. One short glimpse at the brochure tells you that these are spring flowers, and that you and Jungkook are visiting during the perfect season. You and Jungkook continue through your makeshift tour in silence, taking in the flowers as well as the view that extends out far beyond your line of sight while Jungkook snaps photographs behind you. Words don’t need to be said when everything around you says it all.

At the bottom of the field is a cafe, a small brick building with an outdoor seating area facing the now upward flower display. You and Jungkook order sandwiches and soda, and take your seats outside as you wait for your number to be called. There are a fair amount of people today at the field, most of which you can see ahead roaming through the flowers ahead.

“Have you ever been to a flower farm before?” Jungkook asks, as he glances over at you to see how bright your expression is.

You smile as you turn to him. “No, never. But thank you for bringing me here, it’s beautiful here.”

Jungkook smiles, looking a little smug. He looks proud of himself. “I’ve always wanted to come here, so I’m glad I was able to bring you along.” It looks like he wants to say more, but the number that rests between Jungkook’s fingers is called out, interrupting the conversation. He returns a moment later with the food. “I actually wanted to ask you something,” He says, taking the sandwich plate off the tray and placing it in front of you.

You take the napkins that are being offered to you. “What’s up?”

He settles down into his seat. “I didn’t get to return the question that you asked me last night.”

It takes you a second to realize what he’s referring to. Immediately, you feel yourself turn red as you press your lips together. You were definitely drowsy last night, and hadn’t put too much consideration in the aftermath of asking Jungkook about his college relationships. You instead try for a laugh, as you wave him off. “Well, you don’t need to ask me. It’s pretty boring.”

“Nonsense,” Jungkook brushes off, taking another bite of his sandwich. “So tell me, did you get into any relationships in college?”

You laugh, albeit a little nervously. “No, not really. I never even went on any dates before—I guess, like you, I just couldn’t see myself in any long term relationship with anyone that seemed to like me.”

“Well, how about crushes on your end? Did you like anyone?”

You gaze over at Jungkook—taking in his wide curious eyes, his soft voice, his contagious laugh. The memories of him waving at you in class, of him catching up to you afterwards to continue previous conversations, of him going out of his way to say hi to you in the library. Jungkook has always been thoughtful, considerate, and soft along the edges. How could you not have crushed on him during college?

And how could you not continue to have these lingering feelings for him afterwards?

You think about your own advice you had given to Jungkook. You should reach out to her. Since you guys were friends before, I’m sure asking her out just to catch up won’t seem so weird. You need to make your move. Could you even follow your own advice?

You look down before Jungkook could start asking questions about your staring. “There was this one guy,” You start, trying for an uneasy laugh. “But I don’t think he ever noticed me. Well, that’s a lie. I guess we were kind of friends? I think it’s more along the lines of me being out of his league.”

“That’s depressing,” Jungkook notes as he finishes his sandwich. You hardly even noticed him inhaling the thing. “How could you be out of a guy’s league? You’re so smart and funny and easy to talk to—if anything, a guy would probably be out of your league.” He leans forward, bringing you close enough where you can clearly make out the mole underneath his lip. “Tell me about this punk. So I can tell you he’s not good enough for you.”

You laugh, keeping your gaze on him. You doubt he’d be so confident had he known about ‘this punk’. “He isn’t a punk,” You remark quietly. “He’s really nice, and really sweet. I was pretty quiet in college. Definitely introverted and kept to myself and had a hard time making friends. Although I would have honestly barely considered him a friend, he just made me feel like my time was meaningful and my attention was valuable to him.” Jungkook’s eyes continue to bore into yours. “If anything, I just wish he knew how much I admire him.”

Jungkook’s gaze is unwavering across your face, once again displaying that unreadable expression. Yet, despite that, something glimmers in his eyes and he seems to come to an understanding you yourself don’t know about. That glimmer keeps swimming across the orbs, even as he switches his gaze between your eyes. They flicker down to your lips for a second, and your heart stutters in your chest.

Jungkook coughs, pulling away from you as he seems to hyper-focus his attention on the soda still in front of him. He looks shy as he steals another glance at you from across the table. “He might not have made you feel that important if you were too scared to tell him how you felt.”

You look down at your sandwich and take another bite. Something about the way he’s staring holes into the side of your face tells you that he knows something that you don’t. You wonder what he’s thinking.

Jungkook wears that thoughtful expression for the rest of the visit to the flower field, as the pair of you return back to his car and slide back in your seats. He stays quiet as you resume the trip, slowly making your way back onto the freeway and towards your second motel.

This kind of quiet is different than the previous silences the pair of you have grown to share over the past twenty-four hours. Unlike the comfortable moments of unspoken words, this is more tense. Like he knows something that you don’t.

You don’t know what to say, or how to break that silence. You don’t know if perhaps you said something you shouldn’t have, or said something to make him uncomfortable. All of those thoughts are not pleasant ones.

Jungkook stays quiet for most of the drive through the mountain. The music you have selected is loud enough that seems to drown the tense atmosphere, but the questions still press themselves deeply into your mind. What is he thinking about?

And worse of all: did he know you were talking about him?

You and Jungkook only speak a handful of times during the trip. He asks you if you need to use the restroom, if you’re hungry, and if you could play him your favorite anime openings. The pair of you have a handful of laughs about your mutual love for Haikyuu and Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, but most of the drive to the motel is ridden out in silence.

The pair of you reach the hotel around dinnertime, definitely nowhere as exhausted as you had been the previous night, but just as eager to finally reach your destination. The tension between you and Jungkook has eased slightly, so you can only assume that perhaps he has overcome whatever was bothering him. You yourself have pushed the thought of Jungkook knowing the truth out of your mind. After all, if he had known, you assume he would have brought it up. Or at least called for an Uber to send you home. You assume you would have provided some sort of reaction for the two of you to talk about. But alas, those thoughts follow a conversation that has not happened, and will probably never happen, because you’re sure that you’ll never have to be in a situation that forces your feelings to go out of control once again—!

“Hi,” Jungkook returns to the hotel clerk behind the desk, a girl to be about your age, who is flickering her gaze between you and Jungkook. A flicker in her eyes tells you that she already has multiple thoughts and assumptions about your relationship. “Do you have a room with two beds?”

“Oh!” The girl blinks, momentarily looking taken aback. “Of course, let me check.” She turns her attention to the computer screen in front of her. Her eyebrows furrow together. “I’m sorry sir, we only have rooms with one bed available—either a full, queen, or king-size mattress.”

Jungkook makes a noise in the back of his throat as he taps his credit card on the desk. Just watching from the side, you notice how he swallows, how he looks down, how his cheeks turn red. He turns to you after a moment. “D-Do you, uh, do you mind?”

It takes you a second to realize what Jungkook is asking. He’s asking if you’d be okay with sharing a bed with him. Him: your college crush, the guy you never really lost feelings for.

You turn red too. “U-Um…” You press your lips together and swallow. “S-Sure,” You manage, waving your hands out in front of you. “I-I don’t mind. I-If you don’t mind, of course.”

“I-I don’t mind either.” Jungkook, however, looks like he’s about to combust. He looks a little lost again. He blinks once, twice, and seems to realize that he’s supposed to hand the woman behind the desk his card. “Uh, whichever room is the cheapest.”

“That’ll be the room with the full-size bed.” She flickers her gaze between the two of you. “If that’s okay.”

“O-Of course,” He stammers back, allowing the girl to take the card. He looks at you. “Do you mind staying here? I have to go to the bathroom real quick.”

“S-Sure, go ahead.” A part of you wants to hit your head on the desk. What is happening to you? Why is the mere thought of sharing a bed with Jungkook turning you into a pile of mush? You’re a grown ass woman—!

“So the two of you on vacation or something?” The woman behind the desk asks. She’s still in the middle of scanning Jungkook’s credit card.

You try for a smile. “Kind of, we’re going to a friend’s wedding.”

“I see, that sounds fun.” She smiles. “You know, I have to be honest, I was a little surprised he asked for two beds. You guys would make a cute couple.”

At the label, you start to turn red. “O-Oh n-no, we’re not a couple at all. That’s very flattering, b-but yeah we’re not together.”

“Oh, I know,” The girl rebuffs. Her smile looks more like a grin. She places Jungkook’s credit card on the desk, along with a receipt and a pen. “I hope the full size bed will change that.” She gives you a wink.

You part your lips, unsure what to make of the situation. “What—!”

“I’m back,” Jungkook says, sliding up from behind you and making you jump slightly. “What did I miss?”

“Uh…” You wonder if your face is too red or not. It certainly feels that way. “Here!” You push him forward towards the desk. “She scanned your credit card. You just need to sign and we’ll be on our way.”

If Jungkook notices the stiffness in your posture, he doesn’t comment as he leans forward to sign the receipt. Just over Jungkook’s shoulder is the worker, looking at you with a now shit-eating grin across her lips. Several questions ping through your mind, but you don’t get to ask any of those because Jungkook is turning around with his credit card in hand.

“Uh, ready to get going?”

“Sure!” You say, voice a few several pitches higher and you return to wanting the ground to swallow you whole. Jungkook leads the way out of the lobby, and you dare one last glance back towards the woman behind the counter.

She’s waving a slip of paper in her hand.

You turn back to Jungkook. “Hey Jungkook, give me a second. I think we forgot to grab something at the desk.”

It sort of feels like a walk of shame to reach the worker behind the counter, who is still grinning at the sight of you and your internal struggles. She hands you the slip of paper, mouths something that makes you go red, before you’re turning back towards Jungkook. “Good luck,” She had whispered.

Before you’re reaching Jungkook, you open the paper. At the very top is the WiFi password.

Underneath the WiFi password, in what you can only assume is her handwriting, is one sentence. Fate said you guys only get one bed- don’t worry, I think he likes you too :-)

“What was that about?” Jungkook asks.

You shove the paper into your pocket. “The WiFi password,” You supply.

The walk to the hotel room is quiet as Jungkook leads the way through the different hallways, corridors, and numbers on plaques. That tense silence is back as he guides the two of you, stopping only when he reaches the number that matches the one on the index card. He gives you a look, and inserts the card key into the slot. The door beeps, and he pushes open the door to find, true to the word of the lady behind the counter, one full-sized bed in the middle of the room.

For the first few hours, it’s easy to ignore that full-sized elephant in the room. Jungkook takes out his laptop and you guys watch your favorite season of Haikyuu together—it’s season two—or you guys linger about on your phones. It isn’t until nighttime falls into your bones, into your minds, that you realize that you really need to address the new situation.

“I’m gonna take a shower first, if that’s okay,” You say, already sliding off the bed to gather your belongings from your suitcase. Jungkook is humming along to the Haikyuu ending song, but he stops long enough to accept you taking the first shower. He watches you as you fish pajamas out from your suitcase. “Hey, Jungkook…” You start. “Are you sure you’re cool with this?” You gesture to the bed. “I can sleep on the floor. They give you extra bedding for a reason…”

“What? No, of course not, I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.” He moves until his knees are pressed into the mattress. “And I’m cool with this. Promise.” He hesitates. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“Y-Yeah,” You manage, straightening into a standing position with your clothes in hand. “I don’t really move around when I’m sleeping. And I trust you, Jungkook.” You keep your gaze on each other until you break it first, turning around to step into the bathroom.

You step out many minutes later, hair freshly washed and feeling much more relaxed than before. Jungkook has moved to the desk in the corner of the hotel room, typing away at some emails on his laptops. He does, however, whirl around upon hearing you exit the bathroom. The sight of you in your sweats, t-shirt, and damp hair makes his eyes linger.

You merely tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You can go now,” You say quietly.

Jungkook nods. “Thanks.”

Breaking that eye contact again, you turn to the bed and lift the blankets to slide under the covers. You rest your head on the pillow, and immediately start to drift away.

You are brought back after what only feels like a few minutes, when you hear a light switch turn off followed by the blanket next to you lifting up. You turn slightly towards the other side of the bed. “Jungkook?” You whisper.

A stillness. “Ah shit, I’m sorry. I was trying to be sneaky.”

“Mmm…” You mumble softly, turning your body 180 degrees in order to face him. You can vaguely make out the shadow of Jungkook’s outline. “Don’t worry. I’m a really light sleeper. Come on in.”

There is a shift in the blankets until you feel the additional weight of Jungkook’s figure crawling in next to you. The knowledge that Jungkook is lying right next to you turns your blood hot both with anxiety and because Jungkook brings in a new wave of heat underneath the covers. For a cool spring night, it’s comforting. But also further anxiety-inducing.

Jungkook shifts and even though the pair of you are on opposite sides of the bed, you can still feel the warmth radiating off his body. In the silence of the hotel room, you can hear Jungkook breathing.

“Is this okay?” It’s Jungkook asking. His voice is quiet, soothing, and very close to your face. You realize that you guys are facing each other.

Still, you have to give an answer. “Y-Yeah,” You reply softly. “Goodnight, Jungkook.”

“Goodnight.”

You turn onto your back. You try to go to sleep, you really do. But your heart is pounding, and rather than the blood filling your ears, it’s the sound of Jungkook’s breathing.

“Y/N, you still awake?” Jungkook asks softly.

You snort. “It’s only been a minute.”

Jungkook smiles. “Sorry. I just… I have a question. A thought, actually.”

“What is it?”

“Well, okay, I don’t want to come off as arrogant or self-centered, but it’s just a question and just this thought that I have…”

“Jungkook.” You turn back to face him. “You can ask me the question. I don’t mind.”

“Well, alright.” Jungkook shifts. He’s a little closer now, you can make out the outline of his face. Everything looks slightly more defined now, definitely a result of your eyes adjusting to the darkness. “When you were talking about the guy you had a crush on… you know, when I asked if there was someone you were interested in while we were in college.”

“Oh, I remember.” Your heart feels fuzzy, even though you have no idea what he’s going to ask you.

“Okay, um. I guess I just wanted to know. Were you talking about me?

The world seems to stop tilting on its axis—and all the consequences of that follow along. Everything around you slows to a grind: your heart stops in your chest, and all the air drains out of your lungs. You hold your breath, feeling as if your body has just been dipped underwater. Thousands of thoughts ping through your mind. You feel like that episode of Spongebob where all the file cabinets in your brain are catching aflame. You suddenly feel like you have no thoughts, but too many thoughts at the same time.

Above all, one question rises above all the rest: how did Jungkook know?

You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts that you don’t hear your name being called. It isn’t until you feel a hand at your shoulder do you jolt. “H-Huh?”

“S-Sorry.” Jungkook sounds a lot more nervous now. “You weren’t responding.”

“I… I was thinking,” You reply lamely.

A pause. “What’s your answer?” Were you talking about me?

You swallow. Should you tell the truth? Or should you deny everything with the hopes that Jungkook will forget this conversation ever existed?

The words spill out before you can think of a proper answer. “What if I was?”

Jungkook is quiet for a moment. “Well…” He starts up again, inching forward towards you. Every move he makes is amplified in your ear, every squeak of the mattress and every rustle of clothing echoed in the small space that is your hotel room. “I’d be kinda frustrated, to be honest. Because when I was talking about my own crush, it might have been about you.”

At Jungkook’s confession, the world seems to come crashing down on you as everything around tries to catch up to you. Immediately, you assume that perhaps you hadn’t heard Jungkook correctly, or maybe you’re completely misinterpreting what he’s trying to say to you.

In a perfect world, maybe you’d say something witty and smart. Maybe you’d play along until he snapped. Maybe you’d be fluent in courting talk and understand exactly what he’s trying to say to you.

But this isn’t a perfect world, and you are neither witty nor smart. You most certainly are not aware of flirtations. You need boys to be as straightforward as possible. Which is why you utter the most comprehensible: “What?”

You feel a warmth at your hip—Jungkook’s hand against your skin. “Ahhhh.” Jungkook starts, not at all sounding fearful but rather casual. Still the underlying case of shyness, however, because this is still Jungkook. “I forgot you sometimes need simple things spelled out for you. Remember when you emailed our Arts History professor three times because you kept forgetting what font she wanted the assignment in?”

You flush—Arts History was the class you and Jungkook were forced to pair up together for. Maybe you would have protested it more had you known Jungkook would turn out to be a little shit over it. “That was a one time thing! You’ve been bringing it up for as long as I’ve known you!”

Jungkook giggles, pulling you closer so your face is against his collarbone and his chin rests on your shoulder. “Shh, okay, okay, I’m sorry.”

Your face is burning at the feeling of your bodies so close together, your fingers pressed against his shirt and your nose against his skin. He smells like floral fabric softener. “Jungkook…?” You whisper softly, breath fanning his neck.

Jungkook tilts his head to rest gently against your temple. He stays quiet for a moment, absorbing the moment. “If you did have a crush on me in college, it would be frustrating. Because I had a crush on you too.”

This time it’s straightforward, just like how you’ve always wanted it. Why can’t you seem to reply?

“Oh.”

“I know.”

You curl your fingers around Jungkook’s shirt. “What if…” You start slowly. “What if I said I still had those feelings?”

Jungkook seems to think about his answer. “I’d say that I do too.”

You swallow, nodding in a way that allows him to feel the movement. “Okay then.”

Without a warning, Jungkook moves to curl his whole arm around your frame. This brings you even closer together. He noses your hairline. “Go to sleep,” He whispers softly. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”

A part of you wants to say no—that holding off on confessions isn’t what happens in novels or tv shows or movies. But the larger part of you knows that you won’t be able to have a proper discussion like this when you are weak, tired, and vulnerable. Your heart stalls at his consideration, allowing yourself to be content just like this: asleep, cuddling with Jeon Jungkook as you’ve imagined since you first developed your crush.

It’s much better than the fantasy.

You wake up the next morning with Jungkook’s arms wrapped around you, his soft breathing against your neck and his lips dusting the skin of your neck. There’s a new kind of comfort you find being held like this, and a part of you wants to melt back into his arms. You think you can pretend to be asleep just to stay here a little longer, but the urgency you have to pee and get the day started becomes too pressing.

Your previous assumptions of Jungkook being a heavy sleeper are confirmed as you manage to untangle yourself from him without so much as a whine from his end. By the time you finish with the bathroom, Jungkook is just beginning to push himself into a sitting position.

You linger near the foot of the bed. “Good morning,” You greet, almost nervously. For good reason to—the memory of last night is vague but defined well enough where you aren’t sure what the next course of action should be. It’s not like your college ever offered a course about what to do when your crush admits to liking you back.

Jungkook looks at you from across the bed. He gives you a small smile, a reassuring one. “Morning,” He says back. “How did you sleep last night?”

You twist your hands together. “Pretty good, actually. How about you?”

“Me too.” He adjusts his position so he can crawl over to you. He slides his legs over the side of the bed right next to you. He brings his hands towards you, palms up. Although he’s close enough to reach you, he doesn’t. Instead, he asks: “Can I?”

You don’t say anything, you merely rest your hand in his. He tugs you towards him, stopping only when you’re standing between his legs. He still keeps his fingers curled around yours, turning your hand up to play with your fingers.

He looks up at you, a soft smile across his lips. “Hi.”

You smile back. “Hi.”

He laces your fingers together, resting them between your bodies. “I guess now for the bigger question… how are you feeling?”

You look down at your hands, deciding you like the way his larger hands cover yours. “H-How did you know I was talking about you?” You ask instead, looking over at him.

Jungkook shifts his gaze away for a moment. “I don’t know,” He admits earnestly. “You were just looking at me back at the flower field and I had a feeling. And I really think a part of me was hoping you were talking about me.”

Unable to help yourself, you feel the side of your mouth quirk up into a small smile. “What would you have done if I wasn’t talking about you?”

He exhales in a laugh. “Honestly, I might have just driven out in the middle of the night and gone over a bridge or something.”

You laugh, trying to diffuse your smile by pressing your lips but it only works so well. ��I was really surprised to hear you liked me back.”

“Of course!” He exclaims, looking momentarily shocked that you would feel this way. “I wasn’t messing around when I said you were smart, funny, and easy to talk to. That’s what made me really like you when we first met. Whenever we talked you just felt so real and approachable—like I could just be myself around you. And even now, seeing you after graduating and realizing you’re still all of those things. It just makes me like you more.”

You feel your heart thumping wildly in your chest. You’ve never thought of yourself in the way Jungkook is describing you—you always just assumed that you were in the background, that you’d never be enough.

Jungkook is looking at you, his eyes big and wide and full of truth. “Is that weird?” He asks.

You shake your head immediately. “No, no it’s not weird at all.” You shrug a shoulder, giving him a meek smile. “It’s really sweet, actually.”

Jungkook grins at that, heaving out a breath as a sign of his lowered defenses. “I think you’re sweet too.”

You groan at that, throwing your head back as Jungkook breaks into a series of giggles. “You’re corny.”

“You’re not complaining,” He points out. This is true.

You shrug. “I guess that means I’m expecting us to catch up on three years of terrible flirting.”

The smile slides off his face. “You’re right.” He brings your joined hands closer together until your whole body is standing closer to his. “Can I ask to kiss you?”

The four letter K word makes your heart stutter in your chest once more. Your hands are so close to his chest that you can feel his own heart beating, and the thought of Jungkook being equally nervous for this gives you enough confidence to return his question. “Why don’t you ask and find out?”

He smiles, a bunny smile that crinkles his eyes. “Touche. Can I kiss you?”

You smile back. “Yes…” You whisper, leaning down just enough for Jungkook to crane his neck up in order to meet each other halfway. It’s just a closed-mouth kiss, a soft weight against your lips.

It’s one that Jungkook pulls away from before you can really enjoy it, really ponder asking for more. “Sorry,” He says immediately, pointing to his mouth. “Morning breath.”

The pair of you stare at each other for a moment, before bursting out into laughter. That tense atmosphere is gone, replaced inside with that previously casual and comfortable air—as you step away from Jungkook and let him get his morning started. Except this time, the air is filled with open lingering stares, shy smiles, and Jungkook taking your suitcase wordlessly as you exit your hotel room.

By the time you load into your car, it’s nearing noon and the gas tank in Jungkook’s car is almost empty. The pair of you agree in another champion’s breakfast—gas station food.

“I swear, we’re both going to have terrible breakout tomorrow during the wedding,” You point out. Despite your words, you still tear into your Nacho Cheese Doritos with the aggression of a gorilla. “I’m going to photograph horribly. Irene will be so embarrassed.”

“You photograph horribly? Inconceivable!” He says the word just as it is said in The Princess Bride, which makes you burst into another fit of laughter.

The afternoon pans out the same way it has for the past two days. Jungkook drives onto the freeway, you decide the music, and the conversations fade in and out. Neither of you talk about the events of the previous night or of what happened in the morning—but the way Jungkook reaches out to laces your fingers together is more than enough.

The town Jungkook has selected to stop for the evening is a five hour drive from the wedding venue—and it’s an actual city space this time, with restaurants and grocery stores and apartments. As soon as Jungkook tells you this information, you are bursting with excitement. It’s been two days since the pair of you actually stopped and lingered in a city environment and you miss it.

It takes another whole day of driving to reach the city destination, as the first alert you get is the increasing number of cars that have joined you on the freeway. These more busy freeways guide you into the city, where you are greeted with the first sight of buildings, sidewalks, restaurants, and parking lots in days.

Even though most of these landmarks are simple flashes that you and Jungkook pass through on the way to the hotel he has selected, you keep your eyes glued out of the window in order to take in as much of the surrounding area as you can. You continue to watch as the immediate high rises become more sporadic and spread out, until he’s finally pulling into the hotel. The sun is just setting behind the many buildings along the horizon. Lots of other cars are parked in the parking lot. You can hear other cars, buses, and trunks driving around the background—and you feel strangely comforted by this discovery.

“Are you okay with sharing another bed today?” Jungkook asks as he guides the pair of you into the lobby. “I may or may not have called to make a reservation earlier when you were in the bathroom.”

You laugh, feeling giddy at the thought of Jungkook taking the initiative to continue progressing your now slow-growing relationship. “Was that all they had left?” You ask teasingly as you make your way to the counter.

Jungkook smiles down at you. “Perhaps I didn’t ask…”

Your lips part. “Jungkook!”

“What?” He’s laughing now. “I think I’m gonna bow out of any excuse to cuddle with you now that you’ve given me a taste of what that’s like?”

You’re gasping in the midst of your laughter. “You’re terrible,” You manage.

So Jungkook checks in—true to his word, he has reserved a single full-sized bed for the room.

“Hey, so, I was thinking,” He starts as he’s following the map provided to him by the employee with directions about getting to his appropriate room. This hotel is slightly bigger than the off-the-road ones you and Jungkook pulled into, so it takes a little longer to find the room. After a few minutes of turning the map over, you two eventually find the room.

“What’s up?” You ask as you push open the door and roll your suitcase into the space, with Jungkook following closely behind you.

“Come here,” Jungkook requests gently, watching as you let go of your suitcase and make your way towards him. You move into his space easily, allowing him to hold you by the waist. “Since we’ve both admitted to missing out on three years of courting, flirting, and dating—I think we should go out to an actual restaurant to have an actual date.”

You lean back slightly and give him a slightly shocked look. “Really?”

“Yes!” He says. “Besides, someone has to put their foot down and say that eating only McDonalds and gas station hot dogs is not the right way to go.”

You laugh at that. “True, but we were having so much fun!”

“Nope!” He exclaims, shaking his head. “The foot is going down, we’re going to an actual restaurant for dinner. Get changed, take a shower, whatever you need to do to freshen up.” There’s a finality in his words as he finally steps away from you, the smile of sweetness still on his lips.

The restaurant Jungkook picks after scrolling through Yelp and other lists of recommendations is a corner Italian place that apparently serves the best Linguini and clams—a dish that you really enjoy. So you put something together much more presentable than your usual round of sweatpants and baggy t-shirts—replacing the sweatpants with black jeans and giving yourself a cream colored cropped sweater. It makes Jungkook’s eyes widen all the same. He’s clad in his usual black jeans and oversized coat that is perfect for the spring breeze.

Since the restaurant is within walking distance of the hotel, you and Jungkook agree to chill off on the driving just enough to stretch your legs and actually have a walk for once—all while celebrating the final night of the road trip.

“I was a little worried about this at first, to be honest with you,” You admit softly to Jungkook, long after the pair of you have been seated in a corner booth and have ordered your food. You’re circling the pasta noodles around your fork, and Jungkook is watching with a touch of amusement and adoration in his eyes.

“Not gonna lie, so was I,” Jungkook returns back with an equally meek smile.

You gape at him. “You invited me though!”

“I did!” Jungkook exclaims with a laugh, looking down at his own order of food. “Me inviting you was honestly a spur of the moment thing. Me catching up to you, however, was me trying to be brave.”

“You seemed pretty brave throughout most the trip,” You point out

Jungkook shakes his head, situating his arms in a cross motion. “Nah dude that was just all a very well thought out facade. A part of me was expecting it to go terribly so I could at least walk away knowing that I built you up in my mind and the fantasy of that was better than the reality.” He must see the look of uncertainty casting a shadow over your mind because he immediately cuts back in. “Just so you know, the reality is much better than anything I could have conjured up.”

You lower your chin slightly, staring over at Jungkook. You bring one shoulder up into a half-hearted shrug, maybe to showcase a certain level of carelessness. “What were you conjuring up then?”

“Oh, I don’t know if you want to go there right now,” He rebuffs, looking a little red in the cheeks. “I think we should start slow. Refer to the PG thoughts, if you will.”

You laugh, focusing your gaze momentarily on the last of your pasta. You had sorted through the clams, since they weren’t your favorite things to eat. “Jungkook, are you admitting to me that you have thoughts above PG?”

“Oh shit, that wasn’t my intention!”

You giggle. “I’m messing with you, Jungkook!”

He pouts. “Don’t do that.” He rests his hand on the table, palm up, inviting for you to take it. “I just want to spend today with you, and take it slow—I just want to hold your hand and kiss you and lay with you and just be with you in the way I couldn’t be with you in college. Is that too weird?”

You look down, pressing your lips together, trying not to squeal and definitely not trying to throw yourself off the chair. You look back over at him and squeeze his hand. “That’s not too weird at all. That’s actually really sweet. Honestly, those are things I probably would have asked for regardless. I don’t really know the rules of dating—I never really went out that often.”

Jungkook smiles sweetly back at you, he brings your hands up to kiss the back. “I’ll give you a few pointers then, let’s get going.”

After the check is paid for—it ends up being a split between the two, it’s the best compromise you can come up with considering he wants to take you out but you want to pay him back for driving this far—the pair of you emerge back into the city space. Jungkook’s hand is still wrapped around yours, using that connection point to pull you close to him.

“Now this move,” Jungkook explains, beginning to lead you both back to your hotel room. “Is when the gentleman walks the lady home, because their date went by smoothly and he wants to see her for as long as possible.”

You laugh. “I’m enjoying this so far.”

The pair of you continue down the sidewalk, using the time it’ll take to walk back to the hotel to walk off the food in your stomach. You resume your conversation, giggling and laughing all the same until you’re walking through the lobby of the hotel and slowly making your way to your hotel room.

Right before you step inside, Jungkook stops you. “Normally, the front door is where the gentleman drops the lady off, and they talk about how well the date went.”

“Oh, well, in that case, this was so nice, Jungkook,” You remark, beaming at Jungkook’s own smile. “I’m glad you convinced me to eat real food for once.”

“You’re welcome—I had fun too.” Jungkook slides closer to you. You, completely hypnotized by his next movements, watch as he cups your face with his hand to angle you upwards. “This is the part where we have a first kiss, because the stars are lined up for this. And because I really want to.”

You smile, curling one of your hands around the wrist near your face. “Seeing as we’ve already had our first kiss, how about a second one?”

Jungkook smiles back, eyes lidded towards your mouth. “I guess that’ll work.” His lesson on dating, it seems, is done, as he leans in to kiss you. You suck in a breath as he covers your lips with his. It’s deeper than the first time he kissed you—which had been more of a peck with a side of morning breath. But now you’re both awake, tasting like wine, and drunk off each other. It’s a more real kiss.

You whimper as Jungkook’s tongue runs over your bottom lip, before slipping into your mouth. It’s a sensation you can get completely lost in, until Jungkook pulls away.

Under the hallway light, you can make out his flushed cheeks, his wet lips, his dark gaze.

Immediately, Jungkook is pulling you to his side before he starts digging through the pockets of his jeans. “Alright, we’re going inside right now.”

You lean into his shoulder. “I thought I was supposed to invite you inside, Jeon? What happened to giving me pointers on first dates?”

“Screw that,” He retorts, practically shoving the hotel door open. He turns around to face you. “Now, this is our hotel room. And I want to kiss you in private.”

Your laughter is drowned out as Jungkook tugs you by the wrist into the room.

Under different circumstances, waking up next to each other after a first date would hit you with a wave of anxiety and maybe even a vague sense of embarrassment at letting someone you like see you in such a vulnerable position.

Right now, however, under the morning sunlight within the covers of your shared hotel bed, you just feel happy and content. You wake up on your side, with an arm resting over Jungkook’s chest and his fingers curling around your own. There is an immediate feeling of giddiness that overtakes you, because it’s hard for you to believe that this is happening. Someone you’ve liked and continue to like actually returning your feelings? That has always been such a foreign concept to you.

You don’t know how long you continue laying in bed until Jungkook starts shifting next to you, signalling his wake. You watch as his eyes slowly peel open, laced with grogginess but still looking unfairly attractive that there are butterflies in your stomach.

Jungkook lets out a sigh, as he looks down at you. A tired smile takes over his expression. “Morning.”

“Good morning,” You reply back, voice soft and a little shy. “Happy wedding day.”

That is true. Today is Irene’s wedding—an event you and Jungkook will arrive at in nearly five hours. There’s a strange sort of knot that is beginning to twist itself in your stomach, a knowledge that something good is coming to a close but a fear in the unknown as to what this would mean regarding your relationship with Jungkook. Neither of you have laid down groundwork for your relationship—if this even is a relationship to begin with. You may be inexperienced with this kind of stuff, but you’re sure that one date and making out on a hotel bed doesn’t immediately constitute an exclusive relationship.

If Jungkook notices the tension in your form, he doesn’t say anything. He kisses your temple and grumbles something about wanting to get the day started. He mentions something about not having to worry about getting dressed for the wedding straightaway—that he has reserved a room at the hotel some of the guests of the wedding would be staying at, which is where you will be getting ready before the event. You nod, hearing pieces of his words, but a lot of it gets lost in your own thoughts.

Is it okay to ask questions about where you stand with Jungkook? Is it foolish of you to even bother wondering? You’ve seen movies and have had conversations with friends about guys who dismissed questions like that as ‘moving too fast’. You don’t want to scare Jungkook off, but you also need to know that you’re not wasting your time.

You remain in bed, staring up at the ceiling as you sigh and try to organize through your thoughts. You also try to break down how the past three days have been.

However, trying to do so proves to be a difficult challenge, as Jungkook’s phone starts buzzing excessively on his side of the nightstand—it seems like he is getting a series of text messages from someone.

You know you shouldn’t be looking or prying, but the constant binging of alerts only eats at your nerves more. You turn in the bed towards Jungkook’s side, picking up the device to search for the silence switch along the sides. The screen, however, lights up and you immediately see a name you have not seen or heard since college.

Jennie (9:53AM): hey jungkook !! just thought I’d ask where you want to meet up before the wedding starts

Jennie (9:53AM): since we’re each other’s plus ones, I think we should show up together but idk let me know what you think

Jennie (9:53AM): I’m excited to see you again and catch up, it’s been so long !! :)

You freeze, feeling your body overload with information and questions come flooding into your mind. At first, you think you reread the message wrong. You think that maybe Jennie is texting the wrong person. But after the third or fourth time, you realize that this isn’t a dream. That Jungkook already has a plus one to the wedding, and it isn’t you.

More than that, it’s Jennie.

Jennie is also someone you went to college with, and someone that you only heard of between the grape vines and therefore is someone that is only vaguely recognizable. But you definitely know her. Jennie had been one of Irene’s friends, president of her sorority—and labeled some of the nicest people on campus. Even just from rumors and the one time you ran into her around the school, you can see it. Jennie is nice, beautiful, friendly, and outgoing. All the things you are not.

And now, she’s Jungkook’s plus one to the wedding. And Jungkook did not tell you.

Your lips part as your head starts to spin. Why didn’t Jungkook tell you he already had a plus one to Irene’s wedding? Maybe he did not owe you the explanation, and maybe you should never have assumed he’d be your plus one to the wedding.

The thought of you assuming Jungkook would be your date to the wedding fills you with a vague mortification—why did you have to go ahead and assume?

Your mind starts to spiral as you fall into the depths of overthinking. Now you were set to attend a wedding alone, with no plus one, and surrounded by people you don’t know. All while watching Jungkook sit with Jennie, eat with Jennie, and dance with Jennie.

Holy fuck, holy fuck, what were you going to do? You can’t go to this wedding alone. You can’t confront Jungkook about this—you’re not even supposed to be touching his phone or looking through his phone. He would definitely be upset. How could he not be?

At once, the tears collect in your eyes. How could this be happening? Seconds ago, you had been so content and happy, excited to attend this wedding with Jungkook. Seconds ago, you had been confident about your feelings, and Jungkook’s feelings in return. From all the kisses he showered you in, the date, the talking, the confessing—how could you not feel that way?

Had Jungkook just been pulling your leg? After all, he did have three years to talk to you, to go out with you. Why hadn’t he said something sooner? Is he here right now: talking to you and laughing with you because he hadn’t found anyone and knows that you would do anything for him?

In the background, you can vaguely make out the shower in the bathroom turn off, signalling Jungkook’s near completion with the bathroom. At once, it feels like you’re in a car that has enforced sudden breaks and has sent you flying against the dashboard—like you can’t breathe.

Hastily, you rest Jungkook’s phone back on the nightstand and roll back over to your side of the bed. You blink quickly, trying to rid of the tears that have collected in your eyes while also trying to calm the lump in the back of your throat.

Just as you’re starting to get a handle back on your feelings, the bathroom door opens and you can vaguely make out Jungkook’s humming as he exits. The fact that he sounds so carefree while you’re hurting only a handful of feet away almost makes the tears come back in. But you’ve learned how to hide your emotions well.

Jungkook’s soft laugh brings you out of your thoughts. “Still in bed?” He asks jokingly, sitting on the edge and placing a hand on your ankle. You try not to stiffen at the gesture. “You know, even though we’re getting dressed at a different hotel, we still need to get going.”

You take in a breath. “I’m comfortable here,” You exclaim, sitting up and facing Jungkook. He’s looking as wide-eyed, easy-going, and comfortable as always. You’re not sure how long you can keep up the facade of being okay. “I was just waiting for you, that’s all.”

You don’t wait for him to reply as you slide off the bed, grab your clothes from your suitcase, and lock yourself in the bathroom. You ignore the lump in your throat as you brush your teeth, as you get your day started. Finally, you look up at your own reflection in the mirror. Unlike previous times, when there had been a glimmer to your gaze—you don’t know you recognize the now disheartened individual before you.

You exit the bathroom and immediately turn to pack up your suitcase once more, ignoring Jungkook in the process. The boy is on his phone, typing something—probably a text message. Maybe he’s responding to Jennie, confirming their date for tonight, as he remains completely oblivious to your feelings.

The thought brings the tears back to your eyes.

“Ready to go?” Jungkook asks, all smiles and soft eyes as he slides off the bed to face you.

You don’t look at him as you shoulder your carry-on bag and straighten into a standing position. “Yeah.” You don’t mean for the tone to come out dry and unresponsive, but you’re too focused on trying to get the tears out of your throat.

You miss the way the smile slowly slips off Jungkook’s face as he watches you move towards the door.

Jungkook moves towards you, reaching forward to take your suitcase from you just as he’s done for the past few days.

You, however, brush him off. “It’s okay, Jungkook.” You pull open the door and make your way down the hallway without looking back to see if he’s following closer behind you. You don’t need his help, you don’t need his pity. You don’t need him to do these things, to lead you on—especially if he was going to end up with some other girl at then end of the day.

You stay quiet as you make your way to Jungkook’s car. Jungkook steals the occasional glance in your direction, seeming to finally realize that something is wrong.

He, however, doesn’t say anything until you’re back on the freeway—on the five hour drive towards the wedding venue. “Everything okay?”

You’re playing with your hair, but you stop long enough to spare him a short glance. You’re not even looking at his face, you’re looking at the chair he’s seated on. “What do you mean?”

Jungkook clears his throat. “You’ve been really quiet since I got out of the bathroom. You…” He gestures to the center console. “You’re not even playing any music.” He tries for a smile. “I’d really like to listen to your ‘everything’ playlist.”

“Sorry, I’m not really in a music-listening mood right now,” You whisper, realizing that you should probably cover up your ass a little better than you are currently. “S-Sorry, I think it was something at the restaurant yesterday. I’m not feeling super hot right now.”

“Oh no, do we need to stop by a pharmacy or something? I can run in and get some stomach machine or whatever—!”

“Jungkook, it’s fine.”

Maybe it’s the finality of your tone, or the sharper edge in your voice, but Jungkook quiets down again. One glance in his direction shows you the furrow of his eyebrows, the set of his jawline—he looks hurt and confused. And that kills you inside.

A small part of you wants you just lay all your cards on the table—to admit your side of the story and let him know about the texts and the hurt feeling still eating itself at your heart.

But another part of you, the bigger part of you, doesn’t want to give Jungkook that power. You don’t want to be the one to crack first, to be the one who gets hurt first. So you refuse to say anything, settling deeper and deeper into the seat of Jungkook’s car. Contrary to your initial thoughts, he doesn’t plug in his own phone to play his own music. He simply allows the pair of you to bathe in silence.

Without the music to distract you, without Jungkook trying to make conversation, it forces your mind to linger on the events of the early morning. Maybe Jungkook didn’t tell you because it was obvious to him that the pair of you would never have been a plus one to the wedding in general. He’s probably hurt because Jungkook can’t get his way with you.

The realization that he doesn’t even have the consideration to warn you ahead of time that an invitation for a ride doesn’t equate to an invitation to be a plus one brings the tears back to your eyes. Did you not even deserve a warning? Why would Jungkook let you kiss him, let you fall in love with him—only to turn his back on you like this?

You have to keep your eyes glued to the window of the passenger’s side of the car, just to make sure Jungkook won’t see the tears. You can just imagine that he’ll ask, and the conversation will steer the pair of you into an even more awkward space.

It’s a very agonizing five hours. Not having that time to recover from the shock of those texts is becoming increasingly more difficult for you to handle.

There are a few times that your tears overwhelm your whole system, where you have to sniff to get a handle on your body’s response to the emotions going through your body—which you’re sure Jungkook can hear. After all, there’s no music playing and there is a silence that is threatening to swallow you whole.

Jungkook, however, does not say anything in response to your very obvious sniffle. He merely tightens his grip on the steering wheel, and keeps his mouth shut. You wonder if he’s waiting for you to talk first, to explain what’s going on with you.

The sky is bleeding orange by the time Jungkook pulls into the new hotel, the final hotel. There is still two hours until the wedding is set to start, but every nerve in your body is screaming for you to leave and go back home. Every nerve in your body is telling you that you don’t belong here anymore.

“Okay, I let you have your peace for the whole drive over,” Jungkook starts off, voice tight, fixing the car into park. “But I’m asking you this right now. Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t seem fine… and I’m worried about you…” He reaches across the car to land a hand on your shoulder. It’s a completely normal gesture, especially between you and Jungkook, but you cannot handle it.

You jerk away. “I’m fine,” You snap out, actually fixing your gaze on him this time. Jungkook recoils, immediately retracting his arm from you, looking like you just burned him. You tear your gaze away from him. You’re not strong enough to see him hurt because of you. “Why do you care anyways?”

Jungkook exhales in disbelief, turning towards the steering wheel of the car and running a hand through his hair. “What are you talking about? Is this about last night? Did I… say something to scare you off?”

“This isn’t about what you said, this is about what you didn’t say and what you’re not telling me!”

Jungkook looks like you just grew a second head. “What are you talking about?”

You whirl back to face him. “Oh, so the fact that you and Miss. Jennie were already set to go to this fucking wedding together and you didn’t even think to give me a heads up and tell me?”

Jungkook freezes like a deer in headlights. “What? How did you know about that?”

You laugh, but it’s a hollow noise that only makes that lump come back to your throat. “Nevermind,” You bite out. This time, you don’t stop the tears from resurfacing as you give Jungkook a full look this time. His demeanor changes from frozen to pained at the sight. “I hope you guys are very happy together.”

You don’t say another word as you fumble with the latch of the door before pushing it open with more strength than necessary. You can vaguely hear Jungkook struggling with his own seat belt, but you don’t care. You slam the car door shut and storm away. You don’t know where you’re going—maybe around the corner to scream, or to call a taxi that’ll take you to the airport. You don’t care about the wedding. You don’t think you could face the embarrassment in facing Jungkook or Jennie or Irene right now.

“Shit, Y/N! Y/N!” Jungkook is calling for you now, his footsteps loud against the asphalt.

Everything feels like you’re going through water, which is probably why Jungkook is able to reach you as quickly as he does. He catches you by the wrist.

“Y/N—please, will you stop and just listen to me?”

“No! Jungkook, let me go.” You start trying to tug your wrist, trying to pull yourself away from him. “Let me go! I’m leaving! I don’t want to see you anymore!” You’re gasping, the tears blurring your vision and making you feel powerless.

Without a warning, Jungkook pulls you in his arms. Wrapping his arms around you, he traps you in his embrace. And you are miserable.

“Stop it!” You gasp, trying to push him away. You’re heaving—crying and trying to escape from someone as strong as Jungkook is definitely a workout for your body. “Jungkook, leave me alone. This is all my fault.”

He pauses. “What do you mean?”

You stop struggling, allowing Jungkook to hold you as you pull back enough to look away from his face. You wipe at the tears on your face. “It’s my fault anyways. I said I liked you and you said you liked me too, but maybe that wasn’t enough for you. Just because we like each other doesn’t mean we’re exclusive. I should have asked up front, so I wouldn’t get hurt in the long run.”

“You don’t need to get hurt though,” Jungkook whispers kindly, his voice overcoming the blood in your ears, as well as your own yelling. You quiet down at that, except for your own lungs contracting to catch more air. This leaves you a hiccuping mess. He waits until he knows you’re not going to say anything next. “You’re right, okay? Jennie and I were supposed to be each other’s dates.”

You’re still trying to catch your breath.

Jungkook rests a hand on top of your head, curling his fingers through the strands of your hair soothingly. “Are you okay?”

You hiccup. “Why are you telling me this? I just told you that I’m hurt right now…”

“Shhh.” Jungkook pulls back and cups your face in his hands so you can look at him. “You aren’t listening to me. I said we were supposed to be each other’s dates. We’re not anymore.”

You blink, allowing the tears that were already filling your eyes to fall down your cheeks. Jungkook wipes them gently with his thumb. “What?”

Jungkook’s gaze flickers between your eyes. “Jennie and I are friends, so we’d figure it would be fun to just go together and have a person to sit with, eat with, and dance with. As friends.”

“W-What happened then?” You ask, a watery color in your voice.

Jungkook gives you a gentle smile, the kind of gesture that tells you that you should know the answer already. “You happened, silly.” He keeps his eyes on yours. “I saw you at the party with Jimin and invited you to come with me. I assumed when I asked that we’d be each other’s plus ones. I forgot to tell Jennie though when I asked you out.” He tilts his head at you. “You saw the texts on my phone, didn’t you?”

“I-I’m sorry.” You hiccup again. “Your phone kept going off this morning and I was just trying to put it on silent. I-I didn’t mean to look through your messages…”

“Shh, baby, you’re good, you’re okay.” Jungkook interrupts gently, wrapping his arms tighter around you and swaying the pair of you back and forth. The usage of the nickname fills you with a new feeling, a warmer feeling. It helps calm you down.

Your breathing eventually evens out, bringing you back to reality and to the realization that you and Jungkook are hugging in the middle of a hotel parking lot.

Jungkook loosens his grip on you, letting you step back. He watches you for a moment. “Here,” He says, digging through his pocket and pulling out his phone. “I think you should see this.” He clicks through a few of his apps, until he seems to find what he’s looking for because he hands the phone to you. You look over at him, confusion flooding through your features. Jungkook gives you a reassuring nod. “It’s okay.”

Still hesitant, you take the phone and look at the messages across the screen. It’s the texts from this morning.

Jennie (9:53AM): hey jungkook !! just thought I’d ask where you want to meet up before the wedding starts

Jennie (9:53AM): since we’re each other’s plus ones, I think we should show up together but idk let me know what you think

Jennie (9:53AM): I’m excited to see you again and catch up, it’s been so long !! :)

Jungkook (10:20AM): hey Jennie !! oh shit i totally forgot to let u know but i actually found a plus one :( i’m soooo sorry i should have told you earlier omg i feel terrible

Jennie (10:20AM): no worries jungkook !! who is it omg do I know them?

Jungkook (10:20AM): it’s actually Y/N? We all went to college together…

Jennie (10:20AM): OH!!!! wait isn’t she the one Irene was working with a lot for senior projects?

Jennie (10:20AM): OH HOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO

Jennie (10:21AM): OKAY JUNGKOOK I SEE U

Jennie (10:21AM): she’s THE Y/N right???? the one u were in love with for our entire college career??

Jungkook (10:22AM): …… maybe?

Jennie (10:22AM): WOWOWOWOW good for u Jungkook !!! glad to see u finally having the balls to ask her out !!

Jungkook (10:22AM): OKAY THAT’S ENOUGH

Jungkook (10:23AM): I actually felt BAD for leaving you by yourself BUT NOT ANYMORE

Jennie (10:23AM): LMAO Jungkook I’m friends with Irene’s entire bridesmaid row i’ll be fine

Jennie (10:23AM): just go get ur dick wet!!!!!!

Jungkook (10:23AM): istg i will leave you on read

Jungkook (10:23AM): also that is NOT the point!!!!!! Just wanna love my new girl :(

Jennie (10:24AM): You’re gross

Jennie (10:24AM): but sounds good see you tonight!

You look up from Jungkook’s phone to see him watching you carefully, gauging your reaction, pleading for you to forgive him.

The only thought that can be translated into a coherent sentence comes out: “You were in love with me during college?”

Jungkook exhales in a laugh, his arms finding your waist once again. “I think ‘in love with’ was a bit of a stretch back then. I think you could agree that we didn’t know each other well enough before for me to say that.”

You’re still looking at him. “Back then…?” You echo.

He nods. “Back then.” He brings you closer, one hand moving up to gently brush at the skin of your cheek. “But it’s different now. Now, I can say with absolute certainty that I’m in love with you.”

Your lips part. “You’re in love with me?” The tears spring back into your eyes, but for a different reason entirely. The emotional rollercoaster you have just been on is unbelievable.

Jungkook’s eyes widen at the sight of your tears. “Oh shit, I’m sorry! Is that too fast? I’m sorry, I should have given you a warning or something. Or more time at least. Oh no, please don’t cry…”

You brush him off with a watery laugh, waving his concern away. “It’s okay Jungkook. This is fine, really.” You give him a smile. “I love you too. I really thought you were pulling my leg or something.”

Jungkook gives you his own small smile. “I’m sorry. I should have brought this up sooner about us being each other’s plus ones. Just because I assume something doesn’t mean it’s an established thing.” He brings you closer, his smile turning into a grin. “You love me too, huh?”

You giggle. You’re too strung out to come up with something witty or clever. “Yeah…”

Jungkook is still smiling, his gaze switching between your lips and your eyes. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

You nod. “About time.”

He kisses you again, softly and sweetly, tongue slipping past the seam of your lips but it’s gentle caresses that make your heart feel like it’s crawling up your throat.

“OH MY GOD GET A ROOM!” A voice calls from the other side of the parking lot, forcing you and Jungkook to pull away. The pair of you look at each other and you start to laugh.

Jungkook kisses your forehead, sweeping down to your ear. “How about we check into our room and get ready?”

You giggle, nodding over at him. “That sounds good.”

So Jungkook leads the way, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you gather your suitcases from the car and enter the lobby. You check in easily, as Jungkook is provided a map with directions on how to reach the room.

The pair of you don’t pull away once until Jungkook is sliding the key card into the door and pushing it open to reveal the bedroom you’ll be sharing for the night.

Both you and Jungkook park your suitcases near the foot of the bed, as per usual.

“Do you want to use the bathroom?” Jungkook offers.

You nod, smiling softly. “Okay.”

You gather the dress you’ve brought in your arms, about to enter the bathroom, before Jungkook’s voice stops you. “Hey,” He calls, approaching you and wrapping you in his arms again. He’s much more handsey this time, like he needs to make sure you’re not going to run away again, like you’re going to be okay. “You feel better now?” His thumb brushes your lips. “Your eyes are still a little red.”

You nod. “The makeup will probably help that,” You reassure in a soft voice.

Jungkook mirrors your movements. “Still, how about I get some ice for you so you can put something cold underneath your eyes… to stop the puffing.”

He looks genuinely concerned and worried for your wellbeing that you can’t help but smile. Since he is insisting, you decide to just let him be. “Okay, Jungkook.”

He smiles. “Okay! You start getting ready and I’ll get the ice, okay?” A quick kiss on your cheek before he’s bounding out of the door with the provided ice buckets.

Your eyes linger on the door for a few minutes before you’re turning back to your suitcase. The dress you have picked is a pink flowing floor-length number—something Karly helped you pick out before leaving. It’s soft enough that it doesn’t leave crease marks along the fabric, which had made this outfit perfect for the trip. You take the dress and your bag of makeup before entering the bathroom. You’re just slipping on the dress when you hear the hotel room door open and close.

“Okay, I got the ice!” Jungkook announces through the bathroom door. “Did you want to work on your eyes right now?”

“Sure,” You call back. “Do you mind zipping me up first?”

“Of course,” Jungkook returns, sounding distracting as you open the door to the bathroom. You peek your head through, noticing Jungkook opening his suitcase on the floor and sorting through it—probably for his own suit.

He must hear the door open, because he looks up towards you. Immediately, his eyes widen as he straightens up into a standing position. “O-Oh wow…” He’s looking you over up and down, up and down, as if he needs to commit this to memory. “Y-You look great. Beautiful.”

“Really?” You stammer back. “Thank you.”

Jungkook keeps his eyes on you as he approaches you. “You needed me to zip you up?”

“O-Oh right, yeah.” Hastily, you turn around, brushing the hair from your back to expose your undone zipper, and your bare back.

You think that he purposely grazes the tips of his fingers against your skin in his process of bringing the zipper up to the top of the fabric. You’re about to turn, thank him, but his hands back at your waist do the gesture for you. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You look really pretty.”

You pout. “You’re being too nice to me.”

Jungkook whines, hugging you close to him. “You’re too cute.” He noses at your temple. “I just wanted to see you smile.” He pulls away after a moment. “Let’s take care of your face, yeah?” He turns around and returns with a small baggy full of ice. “Here, sit down for a second.” He leaves for a second, returning back with a towel. “Maybe… five minutes each eye. I don’t know. I’ll get ready while we’re waiting.”

So he takes his suit out from his case and disappears into the bathroom, leaving you alone with a towel of ice pressed against your eye. The cooling sensation definitely helps with the puffiness.

Jungkook appears from the bathroom a few minutes later—dressed in a black suit with a white button-down and a long skinny black tie. His hair has been fiddled with a little, but he still has that messy, boyish, lovable appearance that makes your heart race.

“Did you switch the towel?”

You nod.

“How do you feel?”

Slowly, you bring the towel down and rest it on your lap. You look at Jungkook. “How do I look?”

He leans forward towards you, holding your chin gently between his fingers. “You look better. Did you need to finish getting ready?”

“Yeah. I just need to touch up my makeup.”

“Okay, go ahead then.”

Jungkook takes the towel, and watches as you make your way back to the bathroom. You’re only gone for a few minutes before you’re emerging once more—eyeshadow a little darker, lashes a little closer, and lips slightly pinker, but overall still looking like the same version of the girl he fell in love with.

The pair of you drive to the wedding venue, a cute brick building with browns, greens, and whites surrounding. Guests already swarm the outside area, some of whom you recognize from college. The sight makes you nervous.

Jungkook sees this, and he reaches over to grab onto your hand. “You can just stick with me, okay?” He smiles. “I’ll protect you.”

You roll your eyes, but you are thankful to have Jungkook as your source of comfort and be that person you could run back to.

He parks and meets you at the front of his car, where you lace fingers and make your way towards the venue. You go through a small round of hellos and ‘nice to finally meet you’ conversations—most notably from Mingyu and Jennie, both of whom light up at the sight of your presence. Contrary to your previous worries, you find that you don’t really need to be so nervous. Mingyu and Jennie are friends of Jungkook’s for a reason—they radiate a relaxing nature that you can tell is what has drawn the three of them to each other.

They ask about you, your college experience, your current experience, passing easy conversation in the ceremony space right before the start of the wedding. It’s fun to see Jungkook joking around with the friends he grew up with, and even more fun to see how easy you are allowed into that world.

The actual wedding ceremony is a blur. You vaguely recognize the extremely attractive, excited, and watery-eyed version of Seokjin at the head of the aisle. You definitely recognize the equally as attractive, excited, and watery-eyed version of Irene, downed in white lace and looking much more beautiful than you ever remember her. Vows are exchanged, kisses are shared, there’s an applause, and pictures are taken before the guests are ushered into the main entry room—decked out with a bar and a few scattered seating areas. Jungkook whispers to you that guests are put here temporarily, as the ceremony space is being converted into a dining area.

True to Jungkook’s promise, he lingers by your side most of the night. Although you reassure him that you are fine, you are much more emotionally stable compared to a few hours ago, and that perhaps you are okay catching up with Nayeon—another girl from college, actually someone from the first party you ever attended who defended you when you were receiving unwanted attention—but Jungkook simply tells you that he likes being around you. He likes being able to put his arm around you, likes to rest his hand at your waist, likes people knowing that he has you.

It’s a few more minutes of conversation, of laughter, of old stories being exchanged between people you haven’t seen for years, when the guests are called back into the newly converted dining area. Instead of rows of chairs lined up, there are round tables filling the space. The long panel of doors once closed along the wall of the room have been opened—exposing a gazebo with a D.J. and a dance floor, all encircled by a string of big bright fairy lights.

You and Jungkook are situated at the same table as most of the guests you recognize from college. You assume this is purposefully done to give you all a common ground, and it works because conversations spring easily between you all. Even when you’re not talking about your experiences from university, you’re able to transition from topic to topic. You and Jungkook occasionally talk amongst yourselves as you’re eating, but you sit together and laugh together when Irene and Seokjin emerge and listen in during the wedding toasts.

Finally, Irene and Seokjin make their rounds through the room, stopping at the tables to cheer and laugh and exchange a few words of congratulations and conversation. Following this process, everyone at your table stands on their feet as Irene and Seokjin make their way towards you. There are bright smiles, Irene’s cheerful gasp as she takes in all the guests that have come to join her. She circles your table, hugging every guest, continuing this when she reaches you.

Irene grins at the sight of you. “Y/N! Oh my gosh, it’s been so long!”

“I know!” You return, pulling away from Irene. “Congratulations. This wedding is beautiful.”

She beams, absolutely radiating in her white dress and glittering makeup. “Thank you so much for coming! But oh my god, are the rumors true, did you really show up—!” She looks over your shoulder, and grins again. “Jungkook!” She hugs Jungkook. “I should be saying congratulations to the two of you. I was surprised to get the text from Jungkook saying that you guys were coming as each other’s dates. Gave me a whole pain because I had to switch some seats around at the last minute. But anything for my favorite people.” She turns to you and holds onto your arms. “Jungkook has had a crush on you for years, so you’re really doing him a huge favor.”

“Okay, enough,” Jungkook interrupts, scowling. But there is still that playful look in his eyes. “Did all your friends know about this? Jennie knew something was up too when I texted her.”

Irene presses her lips together. “Mingyu might have mentioned something.” She presses her hand to Jungkook’s cheek. “Stay safe, you guys. Hope you enjoy the rest of the night.” She moves onto her next guest.

Jungkook is groaning. “Remind me to never tell Mingyu anything ever again.” He glares at the boy from across the table. “Gonna fling some peanuts at that son of a bitch.”

You laugh, wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s waist. “Oh, let him be. It’s Irene’s wedding. You can get him tomorrow.”

Jungkook pouts, but he does wrap his own arm around your shoulder. “Ah, love my girl—promoting evil behavior after festive events.” He kisses your cheek as your table takes their seats once more.

The good natured atmosphere continues as you and Jungkook down your food, remaining fully engaged in the conversations happening around the table. After another hour of this, the DJ announces the start of the married couple’s first dance. Irene and Seokjin take to the dance floor and spin around, her white dress flowing around the room like light. Underneath the glow of the fairy lights, it looks like the couple is in an entirely new world. And you are so taken by it.

Jungkook does not turn to you until the DJ plays a slow song—a first slow song after a series of upbeat dance and pop genres. He jerks his head towards the dance floor. “You want to dance?”

You take his hand when he offers. “Of course.” He leads you across the room, towards the gazebo, where several other couples have moved to cling to one another. Jungkook pulls you in: one hand on your waist and the other with your own hand. “This is really nice,” You start off.

Jungkook laughs. “The wedding, or the dance?”

You smile over at him. “Both. Being able to slow dance with you, however, is marginally better.”

Jungkook is quiet for a little after that. He seems content just staring at your eyes, taking in the magic of this moment. “Thank you for coming with me,” He starts. “The whole road trip thing. Definitely would not have been as fun if I did all that by myself.”

“Well, thank you for inviting me,” You return. “Even though we had that big misunderstanding. I had a lot of fun.”

“Hey.” Jungkook angles his head a little so he can look at you in the eyes. “You know that I would never hurt you, right? You’re too important to me that I wouldn’t even think to pull some stupid shit like that again. You know that I love you too much to do that to you, right?”

“I do know now,” You say, gazing over at him. “And I love you too.”

You’re not usually an expressive person. But it’s worth saying those words just to see the grin that overtakes Jungkook’s face. It’s worth even more when he leans forward, kissing you openly in front of all his friends, nibbling gently at your bottom lip, running his tongue over the wound, and into your mouth. It’s worth it to have his fingers dusting sweetly over your skin, coaxing your mouth to open to allow exploration.

It feels like worlds pass before Jungkook pulls away, giving you that breathless smile dimple and all, before he’s leaning forward to bury his face into your neck.

“I think the drive home will be fun,” Jungkook mutters softly.

“Hm?” You hum, eyes closed as he presses tiny kisses along your neck.

“Most definitely,” Jungkook says, lifting himself just enough so that his lips hover over your ear lobe. “Because I plan on fucking you in every hotel bed for the rest of the trip.”

You feel your heart race, your cheeks heat. Yes, this was definitely worth it.

#jungkook scenarios #jungkook scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook x y/n #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts angst #traci writes

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all-my-love-for-harry · 4 years

Text

A priority.

summary: Y/N defends herself from the hate and Harry gets mad.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: angst!

a/n: a little something to hold onto until i finish some requests for my shy little boy, hope you like this! (i’m on a roll, sorry for posting so much mjsiw)

you can find the rest of my masterlist here

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

Ugly. Worthless. Bitch. And her personal favorite, slut. Those words along with some others were all over Y/N’s social media accounts every single day.

Ever since some bloody paparazzi took a picture of Harry and Y/N holding hands while shopping, Y/N couldn’t go online without having thousands of strangers on the internet throwing names at her.

She should’ve seen it coming, honestly. It was stupid to think they could hide their relationship forever, she just wished fans wouldn’t be so aggressive towards her.

Y/N wanted to understand, she really did. For a solid week she convinced herself they were just being protective over Harry, but after the insults and derogatory comments about her imagine didn’t stop, she started to grow annoyed. She started believing fans just didn’t want to see him happy.

Y/N had to bit her tongue numerous times, knowing that if she stood up for herself, it would only be worse. So she tried to ignore it.

She didn’t stop using social media, why the hell would she stop having a life because of fans that couldn’t contain their need to harass every person Harry became close with?

A month after the pictures of them were out for the entire world to see, Harry had to travel to the States for work. He was supposed to be away for only two weeks, and Y/N was going to stay at his house a couple of days before his arrival so they can spend time together right away.

Laying on the couch, Y/N scrolled mindlessly through her Instagram feed, seeing what her friends and family were up to. She rolled her eyes when her notifications started to go off, not really wanting to enter and see her entire comment section below her posts full of hate towards her.

But curiosity killed the cat.

Promising herself she would only have a look, she clicked her notifications. She had posted a picture yesterday when she went out with a couple of her girlfriend, so all the comments were directed towards that post.

She’s dressed like a slut here

Can’t believe Harry is dating her…

He can do so much better, what a shame

It can be so easy to slip into a mindset where she let these type of things affect her and her confidence, but she simply chose not to. These people didn’t know her, and probably never will.

I can’t wait for harry to realize the kind of whore you are and dumps your fucking ass.

Oh well, that’s hilarious. Now she was mad. Probably picking a fight wasn’t the smartest decision she’s ever made, but she couldn’t help it. She let the anger speak for itself as she pressed the reply bottom and started writing directly to that specific comment.

‘So he can date you instead or what?”

Send.

Y/N dropped her phone on her lap, deciding it was enough internet for the day. She decided to move to the kitchen and start on the cupcakes she had previously planned to bake her boyfriend. Harry wasn’t one to allow himself to eat a lot of unhealthy stuff, as he has always tried to be as healthy as possible. But, man, cupcakes were something Harry absolutely loved.

She didn’t really touched her phone for the rest of the afternoon, staying busy in other things. She had a facetime call with Harry at night, and she was looking forward to see his face, even if it was only through the phone. Her phone didn’t have enough battery, so she turned on her computer to wait for Harry’s call.

The screen lightened, showing Harry’s upcoming call. Y/N furrowed, thinking he was way earlier but she wouldn’t complain about it. She answered the call, expecting to see her beautiful boyfriend’s dimpled smile on the screen, but she was surprised when she saw a serious look instead.

“Why would you do that, Y/N?” he asked sternly.

“Do what?” Was this some kind of joke?

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Y/N. Don’t play dumb”

“Excuse me?” she raised her eyebrows. “Maybe if you explained what you mean we could talk about it”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Do you have any idea how disrespectful it was from you to answer like that to a fan? It was unnecessary and, to be honest, childish from you”

Y/N was surprised. “Yeah, maybe I was rude but I don’t think I was being childish, Harry”

“Yes, you were. Are you aware of how this makes me look? You can’t just say things like those and don’t think it wouldn’t affect my image too”

Well, what the fuck. “Ah, yes. Treat people with kindness and whatnot. I guess that doesn’t include your fucking girlfriend, because the only reason why I said what I said was because your bloody fans wouldn’t stop harassing me!” Now her face had a deep frown.

“You sure you’re not being a little dramatic? I mean, how bad could the hate get?”

“How bad?! Harry, do you even go online? To them I’m nothing but a fucking whore, do you have any idea of how fucking frustrating is to be treated like you’re the worst human being by your fans just because we’re dating?”

“There’s always gonna be people like that, Y/N” he sighed. “You need to learn how to ignore it”

“Do you think I haven’t tried? I’m sorry but it is not my fault the fans can’t contain themselves from sending death threats to every person that breaths close to you!” she paused. “Do you seriously just called me to scold me?”

“Well, I’m not happy about what you did, to be honest. They’re my fans, Y/N. They deserve to be respected”

“And I don’t?” she raised an eyebrow. “You know what? I’m done. Enjoy your day alone tomorrow because I’m fucking leaving”

“Leaving? What do you mean?” Harry’s pulse started to rise, watching his girlfriend stand up from the bed, the computer moved and he saw she was in his house. “Y/N, don’t leave. We’ll talk about this tomorrow”

“No, I’ve heard enough. I don’t want to talk to you right now” She closed her computer, hanging up. She put on her jacket and took her phone from the nightstand.

Before she exited the house, she went to the kitchen and threw the cupcakes she made in the trash.

Harry, you fucking asshole.

They’ve only dated for seven months and have never really got into a fight before. Y/N was a very impulsive person, more so when she was mad. Fuck, she knew his fans were important to him, she understood that. But it was becoming too much for Y/N to handle.

She loved Harry, she was truly in love with him. But was it really worth it to go through all of this if he wasn’t even willing to stand up for her?

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

Harry changed his flights. After Y/N hung up on him, he realized he behaved like a proper asshole. He could’ve said so many things differently, without offending her the way he did.

He didn’t like she thought she wasn’t important to him. He was scared all the baggage he carried with him was a deal breaker for her, it has been on the past for almost every other relationship he has ever had.

It wasn’t fair of him to straight up scold her without hearing her first. He was upset and didn’t think enough before speaking, and now he regretted it.

He knew he needed to fix things. Fast.

Even though the night before Y/N made very clear she wasn’t staying, a part of him still hoped to see her curled up on the couch watching Netflix and waiting for him to arrive, but he was welcomed by an empty house.

He sighed, passing his hand through his curls, thinking how he could make it up to her. He went to the kitchen, where he kept his car keys. Harry stopped his tracks when he saw the trash can.

His heart dropped to his stomach when he noticed the homemade untouched cupcakes tossed into the trash.

He better make this right.

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

Y/N was bored. She had cleared her schedule because Harry was coming home and now she had nothing to do other than drown on her sorrows.

Being bored and upset at her boyfriend, made her take the decision to take an afternoon nap on her couch. She had been asleep for a little while when someone started banging at the door.

You see, Harry had a key to her place, but he feel undeserving of using it after the way he treated her. But she wasn’t answering, and it wasn’t because she wasn’t home, he had seen her car in the parking lot of her apartment building.

Keying into her place, he looked around for his girlfriend, finding her sleeping figure on the couch, a blanked wrapped around her. He didn’t want to wake her up but they really needed to talk, so he kneeled down to be at the same eye level.

“Y/N… Y/N, wake up” he shook her a little. Her eyelashes fluttered a little before her eyes opened, a frown immediately appearing on her face.

“What are you doing here?” She sat down, taking the blanked off of her and crossing her arms.

“I’m so sorry, baby”

“Now I’m baby? Not the childish Y/N you were scolding yesterday?”

He sighed, moving to sit in the coffee table to be in front of her. “I’m sorry for the way I behaved yesterday, it wasn’t fair for you”

“It wasn’t”

“I was upset, Jeff had sent me a screenshot of the comment and I didn’t even check social media. It was impulsive and wrong from me and I apologize”

“I don’t like the way you talked to me yesterday, Harry”

“I know. If I could take it back, I would in a heartbeat. Please don’t leave me over this, my love” he grabbed her hands, feeling tears threaten to spill out of his eyes. “I know it isn’t fair for you, I know you’ll have to put up to so much shit, but please, please don’t give up on us. I swear I’ll make it right, Y/N, I don’t want these kind of situations get in the way of us”

“I’m not going to leave you” she mumbled. “I’m upset, yes. I know I was wrong too, but it all got too much and i… snapped. I know these kind of things affect your image and reputation too, so I’m sorry”

“I don’t care about my image. I should’ve said something sooner, before it all went out of control. I suppose I ignored it, hoping you’d do the same. I’m sorry for not checking up with you about this”

Y/N gave him a little smile, pulling from his hands to make him sit beside her. She wrapped her arms around his torso, pushing herself into his chest. “I know your fans are important to you, and you love them. I swear I want to have a good relationship with them, because they’re a huge part of your life, and I’m gonna work on that, I promise”

“And I promise I’ll stand up for you. I love my fans, so much. But you’re my girlfriend, my priority” he kissed her forehead. “I love you, Y/N, my baby”

“I love you more, love” she planted little kisses on his chin and jaw.

“Enough to make me more cupcakes?” Y/N let out a belly laugh, nodding. “Good. You owe me after you threw those to the trash”

“That’s what you get for being a meanie”

#harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles imagines #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction

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justasparkwritings · 3 years

Text

Troll In Love: Part 1

Pairing: Park Jimin x Reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers / Exes to Lovers, Non-Idol AU

Rating: PG-17

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: Swearing

Summary: What happens when your work nemesis and your ultimate troll team up to flip your world upside down?

Note: This piece is for the #thebtswritersclub fic exchange! Look out for Part 2 later this week.

This fic is dedicated to, written for the incomparable @xjoonchildx, who I have been lucky enough to be paired with. A major fan, this was an intimidating endeavor, and I’m kind of in love with what I’ve created for her. And if she hates it .... it’s trash okay? jk... kind of.

Banner by me.

Monday: Pitch Meeting

“Everyone has an inherent archnemesis,” Claire began her presentation, eyes peering across the conference room, attempting to make thoughtful eye contact with her peers.

Finally, a staff writer, this pitch marked her first foray into feature writing. It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried, in her three years at the company as a freelance writer, it wasn’t that she didn’t draft proposals, complete preliminary research, no, she absolutely did. But there was always someone in front of her, someone who always came around the corner, nicking first place with seconds to spare. Claire hated you from the moment you arrived, bright eyed and excited, a recent college graduate gunning for a position at the magazine. While it took her years to pitch a cover story feature, years to move from an assistant to full-time staff writer, you had done so in a handful of years.

Today, Claire decided, that would change. She had prepped and planned for weeks, laid in wait for Marissa to give her the go ahead to pitch her idea to the team. Adjusting her Dior, she shifted from heel to heel before speaking again.

“We all have that one person who no matter what we post, they find a way to demean it, turn it negative, make it about something completely unrelated. Whether that’s politics, or religion, or sex, there is that one troll we can’t help but root against. My proposal is to use a few members of staff to find their internet trolls, to engage with them over a period of time, and if they’re willing, interview them, both separately and together. I want to discover what it is that makes them keep commenting, why they always seem to gravitate towards certain posts, who their audience is and how it relates to our greater understandings of our enemies.” Claire sighed, the heavy lifting of her presentation just beginning.

“I like it, who do you want to use?” Marissa asked.

“Someone from each of our most high-profile teams, or the people in our office that have the largest social media followings. For a few that overlaps,”

“Who are those people?”

“Y/N, Jaxson, Hoseok, Emma and Bridgette,” Claire explained. “They have an average Instagram following of ten thousand, and on Twitter it’s twelve thousand.”

“What do you post that gets you so many followers?” Gillian questioned.

“My ass,” Jaxson laughed. “But really, it’s Drag Race content,”

“Good, you have a list. I need written permission from each of you to interview you and your top internet harassers.”

“I’d like to request that my name be off the list,” You asked, hand still raised.

Hoseok asked, knowing the answer deep in his bones. “Why?”

“I just, I don’t think it’d be a –

“Nonsense, you have a large following, I’m sure there’s someone who pisses you off regularly,” Marissa interrupted.

“Yes, there is! What’s his name? Jimin?” Claire pretended to scan her page, her cursory glance perfunctory instead of practical.

You heard the gasp leave Hoseok’s mouth before you registered what was happening.

“Fuck you!” You snapped. “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate, but the sentiment remains.”

“It was, but it also sealed your fate.” Marissa stood. “Start assembling your team and listen to Claire, I’m sure she has a list of things she needs from you.”

“I do!” Claire chimed.

“Great, get me the contracts from legal and get it to each of the people you’ve listed before 5PM today, I want signed consent before you leave this building.”

“What if I don’t want to?” You asked, your final plea.

“You owe her for the debacle with your last interview,” Marissa reminded you.

“It’s not my fault they were drunk both times! I got the article done and out. It was one of our biggest issues in the last year and was followed up by two other feature pieces by me that beat that record,” You countered, your success an unnecessary brag in a room full of people who feared and admired your work.

“I don’t care, Y/N, handle it,” Marissa sauntered out, her assistants following close behind.

Slouching in your chair, your eyes landed on Claire, glaring daggers into her perfectly straight midnight bob. She was everything you hated, a brown noser, a narcissist, a career driven monster who had been biting at your heels since you arrived. She was jealous, blinded by some lofty goal that she’d be an editor or editor in chief before 28, a feat rare in fashion, unless you were Elaine Welterwroth or Margaret Zhang, of course. They had become editors and editors in chief by ages 29 and 27 respectively. Though Zhang had begun her career blogging at 16, a fact that only infuriated Claire who was too busy popping pimples and trying to lose her virginity to her junior varsity boyfriend.

Claire could spend days listing everything she hated about you. She hated your easy interactions with coworkers, the ability to have the entire room stop and listen when you spoke, the craft of your written work and relationships maintained with subjects years after interviewing them. She hated how you left work with Hoseok on your arm or went to drinks with the assistants and interns. How you achieved so many bylines, becoming an editor in your own right without so much as breaking a sweat, while she was scraping the barrel to be noticed. You seemingly had everything Claire wanted, and Claire was sick of it.

Monday: Your Office

“Thank you, for your participation,” Claire said, sitting across from you in your office.

“You aren’t welcome, I’m actually rather unimpressed with your ability to ambush not only me but the other people you’ve trapped into doing your article,” You crossed your legs, adjusting the waist band of your trousers and continued to scowl at her. Claire had only heard of your less than cheerful personality, though it remained largely rumored, she had never had it confirmed or dared to see it in person.

“How, charming,” She rolled her eyes.

“Look, you don’t want to be talking to me, I don’t want to be talking to you. Just tell me what you want so I can send you on your way.”

Claire watched as you reached across your desk to grab your black and white planner, flipping open to the weeks page and holding your pen at the ready. The inside, covered in stickers and hand lettered phrases, fit the persona Claire so desperately wanted to mimic.

“I need you to read and sign this,” Claire slid the agreement across your glass desk. “Then, I need you to identify the username of your troll, and I need to borrow an intern from your team.”

“You can’t have one,”

“Marissa said I could have whatever I needed, and I need an intern to comb through your tweets.”

“I can save you the trouble, I rarely tweet, when I do, it’s addressing the same ass hat,” You explained.

“Well, I need their handle,”

“Fine,”

“And the intern,” Claire was firm.

You rolled your eyes, before pressing the intercom. “Hey Alexis, can you send Erin to me?”

“Sure thing,” Alexis replied.

“Thank you,”

Claire rolled her eyes.

“Jealous?” You questioned.

�� “Read the contract, sign it and send it back to me along with answering the Form that’s in your inbox,” Claire directed.

“Great,”

“I’ll be back on Friday to go over your tweets and exchanges before we decide on a tactic to reach out to them and ask them to come in for an interview,” Claire explained. It didn’t annoy you that she was prepared, but it did piss you off a little to know how much she had thought this through. Maybe you should give her a chance, professionally, not socially, Claire would remain a bottom feeder.

“Who says they’re in the city?” You questioned.

“If not, we’ll Zoom with them, okay?”

“Excuse me, you wanted to see me?” Erin peered through the door; wavy bangs parted slightly to expose her forehead and freckled cheeks.

“Yes, your projects are on hold. Claire here needs your help with her feature article, and as my intern, you are to report to her for the remainder of the project,” You explained.

Erin’s eyes widened, never had she been reassigned to a special project, let alone with Claire who was notorious for running interns and assistants into the ground. “Who will take over my work?”

“Can you make a list of where you’re at and send it to me? I will meet with the team tomorrow to talk about where we need to fill in the gaps,”

“Okay,”

“Claire, this is Erin, if you are a bitch to her, I will ensure you don’t ever write a feature piece or move past copy editor here or anywhere,”

“I don’t know where you get off thinking you can speak to me like –

“I am your superior, and you will respect my intern or face the consequences,”

“Fine,” Claire turned and left, leaving Erin wondering what on earth she had been roped into.

Tuesday: Happy Hour

“You gave the real handle?” Hoseok asked over drinks after work, a little happy hour to celebrate leaving the office before 7PM.

“What was I going to do? She could easily look at my Twitter and Instagram and find out, why lie?”

“What happened to preservation?” Hoseok mocked.

“Either I give in and get Claire off my back, or I get called to Marissa’s and have consequences, like I’m a fucking child.”

Hoseok eyed you suspiciously. “Did you give her his name?”

“You saw in that meeting, she already knows. I blame you,”

“Me?”

“Yes you, always talking about dance classes with Jimin, the good old days of photographing him and styling him in college. He abandoned me to go to school with you, and you’ve taken it all in stride.” You explained. It wasn’t a new story, a new plea, a new exploration of your tempestuous non-relationship with Jimin. It was sad, really, listening to you express the hurt you’ve never let go of.

“He didn’t abandon you to come to school with me,” Hoseok laughed.

“Potato, Tomato,”

“You should talk-

“Nope, you made your once monthly ‘you should talk to Jimin’ comment a week ago over margheritas, you don’t get another for ten more days,” You scolded.

“Fine, fine.”

“I don’t even know where he is,” You muttered, pink liquid of your Paloma slipping down your throat.

“That’s a lie,”

“Can you stop calling me out and let me hate him?” You hadn’t meant to snap, but the constant chatter revolving around Jimin was too much to handle, it was too much in two days, too much in the years since you last saw him. Park Jimin was, and has remained, too much.

“Fine,” Hoseok resigned. “Have you looked at your tweets lately?”

“No, I refuse to go back and read whatever horrors I wrote in 2019,”

“You should,” He suggested.

“I guarantee Claire will force me to read them. Probably aloud at some last-minute staff meeting she puts together on Friday to fucking fillet me,” You rolled your eyes again, the last dregs of grapefruit clumping together as they slid down the side of your glass.

“Maybe if you weren’t so,” He starts.

“Bitchy?”

“Your words, then she would like you,”

“She’s hated me since I got there, I’ve tried being nice. I’ve tried being cordial. Claire and I will never mix,” You explained.

“He’s gone blonde you know,” Hoseok’s eyes have flittered past you, glancing down the street at the setting sun, glad he brought his latest Gucci jacket to keep him warm in the early spring evening.

“Didn’t you hit your moratorium on how long you can talk about Jimin in a conversation?”

“You said his name!” Hoseok argued.

“He isn’t Trump, Hoseok. I can say his name, sometimes.”

Hoseok let the moment simmer, cooling gently before turning it up to a raucous boil. “I’m having a kick back next Wednesday, will you come?”

“If he’s not there,” You answered.

“I can’t promise that,”

“Then I can’t promise either,” Chewing the ice from your glass, you let your mind wander to the possibilities of what might happen should you show up to Hoseok’s party and are greeted by Jimin. Blonde Jimin. Jimin with the sparkling eyes and winning smile. Jimin who harasses you on the internet weekly, Jimin who you haven’t spoken to since you were 22, Jimin whom you hated with every fiber of your being.

Worst case scenario, you couldn’t avoid him and would be forced to speak words to him. Best case, you time it perfectly and he’s either just left or hasn’t arrived and you can doll out pleasantries before Irish-goodbying and never having to confront him.

“Y/N, please, you haven’t seen my new place yet and it’s finally furnished,” Hoseok pleaded.

“I’ll think about it,” You resigned.

“Great!”

“I fucking hate you and our friendship,” You scoffed, signaling the waiter to bring you the check. You should’ve ordered food, being buzzed and talking about Jimin was never a good idea.

“I know you do.” Hoseok winked before picking up the tab for you both.

“At least tell me you haven’t invited Seokjin,” You asked, slipping your coat over your shoulders.

“Well-

“You’re fucking with me, right?” You questioned. “You fucking invited both of my exes to a, I’m sorry, kick back? Hoseok, no.”

“I love you, and I’m sorry, Seokjin helped me find some great pieces for the place, and you know he’s friends with Namjoon and Jungkook,” He tried to explain.

“That doesn’t mean I want to stare at them over my tenth flute of champagne and my plate which will be piled high with cheese and crackers and pieces of salami.”

“You and Seokjin are fine though, you ended-

“Don’t say amicably,” You cut him off.

“Well, close to it. Please,” He begged. Begging never looked good on Hoseok.

Staring into his dark irises, a shade mimicking your own, you couldn’t hold the anger brewing. Being around Seokjin was always a better alternative than Jimin. Though the pity he often felt towards you, at your angered state which has never really subsided, was embarrassing. “I’ll think about it.”

“I love you,” Hoseok pulled you into a hug.

“Yeah, yeah, then why do you keep doing this to me?”

“Because I love you,”

“Tell Taehyung to call me,” You said, waving to him before stepping into the waiting Lyft you’d called at the bar.

“I will, can’t make any promises,” Hoseok winked before turning towards the subway, where he’d pull out his head phones and scan through the photos he’d taken throughout the day, waiting to get home to Taehyung to analyze, edit and critique them.

Thursday: Claire’s Makeshift Office

“Are you ready?” Claire asked, sifting through the papers on her desk.

“You had me come to your office, after you scheduled a meeting to ask if I’m ready? Yes Claire, I’m fucking ready,” You snapped.

“Erin,” Claire gestured towards your intern who tried to hold her eye roll.

“So, I combed through your tweets, sifting through your interactions with Mochimin, which is a very creative username,” Erin began.

“Yeah, his name and nickname combined,” You rolled your eyes.

“And we read through them all, well mostly me… and I have to ask, are you sure these are your tweets?” Erin questioned.

“Yes, and what should be his responses,” You answered reaching forward to grab the printed copies waiting for you. You scanned over the interactions, the subtweets, the blatant tags, the retweets and comments not just by Jimin, but a few of your friends too.

“Why have you been telling us he’s the troll?” Erin asked.

Her question caught you off guard, eyes wide, shock echoing in your bones.

“What the fuck? What do you mean? Look at how he fucking responded!”

“Y/N, you’re the troll!” Erin laughed. “It’s you, not him,”

“I am not! This is a fucking joke! It’s not April Fools yet, way to put the cart before the horse!” Your voice radiated throughout the small conference room.

Claire, not having an office of her own, had requested it to conduct most of her teams work. It was your least favorite of the conference rooms, colder both in décor and temperature than the others, it was situated on the corner leading to the kitchen. Glass on two walls, it was the definition of exposed. Everyone could see your outburst. Everyone could watch you fall to pieces. You guessed Claire had planned it this way, to demonstrate how focused her team was, how dedicated to the project they were, to show everyone her value as a staff writer instead of a freelancer. You also assumed she did this to ensure that whatever break down you were beginning to have, would have at least ten witnesses, ten people to side with her that your behavior was irresponsible and reckless.

“Oh please, get over yourself,” Claire chuckled. The light in her eyes proved your assumptions, she was enjoying this. “Do you see how you interact with him?”

“What do you mean how I interact with him? He started this!” You lowered your volume, side glances from colleagues passing by alerting you to the unprofessional decibels you’d began reaching.

“In almost every interaction, you bait him, hook line and sinker. It’s you, Y/N,” Erin explained.

“No!”

“Yes, this poor man, just living his life while you’re purposefully harassing him!” Claire feigned shock, eyes widening, mouth slightly open. It was taking everything in you not to resort to physical violence.

“I would never,” You glowered.

“You have! For years, it’s always you,” Erin said again.

“I, no, that’s impossible. He started it!”

“Admitting is the first step,” Claire’s placid smile was demanding to be smacked off.

“Fuck you! This is ridiculous!”

“July 10, 2020: Thinking of one man in particular, hoping the bleach in his locks burns in the summer heat.Followed by his comment: thinking of one woman in particular, hoping she knows I wear a hat and use purple shampoo.” Erin read.

“I, I, no!”

“October 13: Nothing makes me happier than not being invited to a birthday bash with all my friends. He responded: All you have to do is ask. On your birthday, he tweeted: Happy B-Day to the girl who … oh never mind she hates me. You responded: nobody asked for your half-hearted bullshit, next time I hope you choke on it.”

“He started it!”

“Why are you so awful to him?” Erin wanted to know.

“I am not, he began harassing me first,” You tried to argue.

“Does Hoseok know?” Claire chided.

“Know what?”

“About your vendetta,”

“It’s not a vendetta!”

“Then explain why you tweet or subtweet him at least twice a week, and then when he responds, tweet him again! You don’t even tag him, just vaguely mention discernable parts of his personality or appearance,” Erin explained.

“I do not! How do you know what he looks like?” You tried to counter.

“His profile picture, and a certain friend of yours doesn’t mind sharing-

“You asked Jungkook? Or was it Taehyung? Or I’m sorry, both?” Your eyes were wide, breathing labored, anger boiling to inhumane levels.

“Well, if we asked Hoseok you would’ve kno-

“You called or texted or DM’ed Jungkook and Taehyung, and asked about Jimin?”

“Yes,” Erin bowed her head, guilt written into the freckles her blush tried so desperately to hide.

“I cannot believe you, Erin,” You spat.

“I’m sorry Claire wanted me to,”

You turned your gaze to Claire, who had begun to cower in her seat.

“You did the one thing, the absolute one thing that you knew, you fucking knew, would set me off. You did this on purpose, you fucking bottom feeder, you fucking dillweed you crossed the fucking line, Claire,” You spat. Your volume had lowered into a low growl, far more deadly and intimidating than any yelling you had done.

“We have the proof, Y/N, you can’t deny it, you attack Jimin regularly,” Claire unskillfully attempted to move the conversation away from Jungkook and Taehyung. Like you would balk at her intrusion.

“You don’t get to violate my personal life, to violate the lives of the people I care deeply about, to expose sources and put them in danger should this article go south, poking and prodding into the lives of people who are dealing with their own bullshit to push your own fucking agenda, Claire,” You were seething, Te Fiti in Moana, Mrs. Weasley against Bellatrix, Kim Kardashian against the ocean searching for her diamond. Your wrath knows no bounds, and Claire had finally crossed the line into territory she could never come back from.

“It’s for the job, nothing personal.” Claire shrugged. You could see it in her eyes, she wanted blood and was elated to be getting it.

“This is entirely personal.”

“Well, you can ask Jimin about it when we interview him,” She smiled, lips upturning revealing her veneers, red lipstick perfectly matte and shaped against her thin flesh.

“No, absolutely not,” You shook your head.

“Yes, that’s part of the deal you agreed to,”

“I take it back. I revoke my consent!”

“It’s non-negotiable,” Marissa said. She had sauntered in during your berating, watching as you tried and failed to continue believing that you weren’t the troll. “You have agreed to this, and you will sit through the interview and cordially answer Claire’s questions.”

“Marissa, this is crossing a line,” You stated.

“You have to be held accountable,” Claire said.

“Fuck you, Claire. Believe it or not, there are somethings that are beyond your understanding and a few that are not appropriate for work,” You continued to scold her.

“Y/N, why are you being so hostile?” Claire was mocking you, with Marissa by her side, she was invincible.

“You picked me on purpose. What have you been working with Hoseok? Is this some larger plan to get me to talk to Jimin? I don’t want to talk with Jimin or talk to Jimin, isn’t it bad enough he’s being brought into my work? Oh and let’s not forget you using Erin and Hoseok to gain access to Jungkook and Taehyung, who are beyond off limits.” You listed each of her offenses, careful to leave out indiscretions that occurred before this project of hers began.

“You agreed to-

“No, I was forced to do this by you, Marissa,” You began.

It wasn’t hard to glower at Marissa, one of the most decorated editors in chief, beloved by Condé Nast, best friend of Anna Wintour… Everyone aspired to be her, but in the last year, through your promotion and growing turbulence within the magazine, her leadership had begun to falter. Her steady hand, guiding each staff writer and editor towards success and elevating everyone’s work, was crumbling at an alarming pace. Yet, no one knew why or if anything was being done to rectify the damage her wake was leaving.

“I was coerced into this under some pretense that I owe Claire something for a so called fuck up that resulted in the biggest boon in our magazines readership in the last year, which was followed up by not one but two feature bylines and my promotion. I have done more than enough at this company, in this industry, to sit here and be forced to engage with a man who destroyed my world. I will not speak with him, or to him or listen to him. I will not, and if you force me, I will get legal involved. Should this bullshit continue, you can expect my letter of resignation next week.”

Standing and shoving your chair in, you turned on the heels of your Oxfords and marched straight to your office. Closing your laptop and shoving your planner into your tote, you grabbed your phone.

“Where are you going?” Hoseok asked. He moved in time with you, following down the many corridors of your office and towards the elevators.

As you stepped in, you pressed lobby and waited for the doors to be closed before turning to him.

“Did you tell Erin she could contact Jungkook and Taehyung?” You asked.

“She did what?” Hoseok yelled, soundwaves bounding off the metal and plastic of the elevator, reverberating in your ears.

“Did you?”

“No, I can’t believe she, are you serious?” Hoseok couldn’t lie, a fundamental flaw in his design made it impossible for him to tell the smallest fib.

“Did you work with Erin and Claire to get me involved in this feature? To get me to talk to Jimin?” You didn’t mince your words or pad your language to make him feel less attacked. You needed the answer, and you needed it now.

“No, I didn’t know Claire was doing this until she pitched it. You think I would-

“Hoseok, they called Jungkook and Taehyung. They want Jimin to come in to be interviewed, they won’t stop until I-

“Until you what?”

“Marissa has always supported me, championed me. But Claire has her number, she has her locked and loaded, aiming for me and I don’t know why,” You confided.

“She has been slipping lately,” He agreed. “There’s only one way to stop this,”

Together you stepped out of the elevator, moving past the turnstiles to the revolving door.

“Am I crazy?” You asked, the insecurity beginning to overtake your bravery.

“No, something weird is going on,”

You clarified, “No, I mean, am I crazy for… for doing this to Jimin?”

“I don’t know if you’re crazy, but you’ve definitely not been your best self,” Hoseok answered.

“He makes me so-

“You still love him,” Hoseok interrupted.

“I-

“Go talk to him,” Hoseok encouraged. “Call me after, we can get drinks and wallow or pick out an outfit for your hot date.”

“What if he-

“Just, talk to him, okay?” Hoseok requested.

“Okay,”

“I’ll check in with Jungkookie and Taehyungie,” He assured.

“Thank you,”

“I’ll also scope out open positions, we can’t stay here,”

“I love you, Hobi,” You confided, a statement that flowed so easily past your lips, you didn’t have to think or parse through the emotions that went along with it. You’ve always loved him, always will.

“I love you too, Y/N,” Hoseok draped his arm around your shoulders before placing a kiss to your forehead, a gentle embrace, a squeeze of confidence, a gesture of love. He moved swiftly from you back into the building, and as you watched him walk away, you took a deep breath.

Taking your phone out of your pocket, you dialed a number you had tried to forget.

“To what do I owe this unexpected delight of a call?” He asked. His voice was the same, chipper and cunning in the same breath.

“I need to speak with you, ASAP,” You told him.

“Okay, I’m working from home today, come over whenever,” He invited you without hesitation.

“You still live at the same place?”

“No, moved up. I’ll send you the address,”

“You know who this is?” You asked, uncertainty back in your bones.

“What, Y/N, you thought I deleted your number?” Jimin laughed, one of only a few sounds that shot right to your knees, making any posture unstable in the docile sounds of his joy.

“I, I don’t know, I guess. Look I’m going to hail a cab, I’ll be there in 20,”

“I look forward to it, just tell the doorman you’re here for me and he’ll let you up,” Jimin said.

“Okay, see you soon, I guess,”

“I can’t wait,” Jimin was smiling, you couldn’t see it, but the lilt in his voice was all the assurance you needed. Bracing yourself for the impact of him, of his voice, of his laugh, of the way he looked at you, you hailed one of the last remaining cabs in the city and prayed for courage.

Next: Troll in Luv Pt. 2

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supernaturallyobsessedchic · 3 years

Text

The Musician Next Door

[Close enough for me, Gif credit to @jensenacklescious]

Square: Vancouver ( @supernatural-jackles tell a story bingo)

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Summary: The reader is an extra on Supernatural, and has a musical talent. But little did she know her music attracted the attention of her neighbor.

Warnings: Nothing bad, just fluff, sweet music (I recommend searching on YouTube to listen to while reading), and some comedy.

Word Count: 1,860

Main Masterlist

Bingo Masterlist

Mobile Masterlist

A/N: A small teaser of a possible series I have in mind thanks to Jensen’s recent Instagram post. But this is not going to be the series, it’s something similar. But still, I hope you like it. :3

She’s always wanted to come to this city. Well she’s always wanted to go to Canada, Vancouver was just the plus side.

And, an ever more plus side was the job she managed to grab. An extra on her favorite show. Supernatural.

Sure it was its last and final season and they were finishing up but with having a limited number of extras due to the pandemic she was one of the few they needed.

She drove down the towns streets, seeing it’s lights shimmer in the night. Making her smile softly at the scenery. Another reason she loved Vancouver. It was such a beautiful city.

She got to her apartment complex, the same one her friend lived in. And she learns quickly who her neighbors are.

After getting rather bored on day 3 into quarantine, she looked at her music set. She knew how to play piano and guitar.

She turns on the electric piano, picking the grand piano setting she begins to play with a few keys. Playing nonsense sounds, but a pleasant melody.

She then began leading into one of her favorites. Her favorite anime show, Inuyasha, playing his lullaby piano song.

Playing at the pace of the song, relaxing as she continued to play. After finishing one verse she began singing lightly with the music.

She began to slow the music as it came to a close. She paused for a brief second before playing more.

She began to play Beethoven’s Moonlight Sentra first movement. And blending the end of it with Supernatural’s Dean’s Family Dedication Theme song.

A tear slipping down her cheek as she remembers this is the last time the show will air. She knows how it will end. They all knew. She doesn’t like it, but she didn’t voice it.

She finished the song with a nice peaceful and gentle end. Till her phone buzzed.

“That was beautiful sweetheart, can I make a request?”

The number belonging to Jensen Ackles. Her heart fluttered in her chest. Turns out he was her neighbor. Who would have thought she had an audience of one listening.

“Sure, what would you like to listen to me play…or attempt to play?” she texts back.

She saw him read it quickly before seeing the jumping three dots, showing he’s typing something.

“I am working on a song for my second album, if I send you a sample of it, could you try to bring it to life on the piano?”

Her heart rate skyrocketed. A song that hasn’t even been released yet, but also still in the works she was going to listen to.

“Sure, let me see what you got.” She texts.

He sent her the audio file to her phone promptly, playing it on her headphones, she can hear the notes coming to her.

Giving it a few play throughs, listening intently to the notes on the guitar, his words being sung. She looked at her keys on her piano and began playing around. Until she found the right notes.

Learning the piano, she didn’t learn the traditional way. She taught herself. Just messing around on the family’s grand piano, she learned the simple twinkle little star. Then an armature Amazing Grace. She had an ear for music, she let the music flow through her like wind blowing through her hair. The way the breeze felt on her skin. Making music felt like that to her.

She began playing the song, even singing the song to help her timing with the next verse and the next verse after that.

Once finished, she noticed it had gotten late.

“It was nice playing for you Jay, but I need to head to bed.”

“Okay, goodnight. Sleep well.”

All throughout quarantine she had been playing with her instruments. Entertaining Jensen mostly, but it also relaxes her.

But on their first day on set, after being tested and gotten the okay to head on the sound stage for blocking she went to see Jensen.

Seeing him and Jared walking together to the sound stage, she couldn’t help but chuckle to herself at how much like brothers they were.

“There she is the little musician next door.” Jensen says, coming to her, wrapping an arm around her.

“He told me you play piano, do you really?” Jared asked.

“I do a little bit; it’s been a while.”

“Well, it’s like riding a bike. You never forget. You were so good.” Jensen comments.

“Aw, thanks Jay.”

“Got any new songs to play tonight or…can I make a request again?”

“You can always make a request. Besides, I was writing this song and I just need to get the notes right, the words right and then I’m posting it to my YouTube Channel.”

“Doing YouTube now, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m trying it out. I can’t seem to enjoy a single day job I get. I enjoy jobs like this. Acting, where I can tell a story. Writing, where I can create the story. Music, just creating good sounding, relaxing and calming music.”

“You are such an amazing creator; I think you’ll do great as a YouTube creator.”

“You think so?”

“Totally, right Jare?”

“For sure, hey, do vlogging, give us a behind the scenes.”

“I’m not sure about vlogging, that requires being in front of the camera. And I’m so camera shy.”

“Yet you’re an extra on Supernatural.” Jensen smirks.

“Okay, maybe…I don’t know what it is. But I just don’t want to vlog, okay.”

“It’s okay.” Jared says.

Later that day, she can’t get her thoughts together back at the apartment. She paced back and forth. From the kitchen to the balcony and back around. She was beyond distracted.

“Jay, are you available for hanging out for a little. I can’t focus.” She texts him.

A moment passes when she thought he might have been busy.

“Yeah, just had to get a pizza out of the oven. Want to come over and just chill for a bit?”

“Sure, I just can’t focus on my music right now.”

“It’s fine. Come on over.”

Putting on her shoes she walks over next door to Jensen’s apartment.

Knocking on the door she hears his dog barking.

“Quiet Icarus.” She could hear him beyond the door shushing his dog. Making her chuckle.

“Hey,” he says opening the door. “Come on in.”

She enters, taking her shoes off at his door.

“Want some pizza?”

“Sure,”

Jensen grabs two plates out, giving each two slices of pizza. And walking over to the couch. Turning on his apple tv.

He turns it onto Netflix, Orange is the new black.

But halfway through his second slice he notices she’s not paying attention to the tv. But instead is looking outside. Eating in silence.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks kindly.

“A lot. Stuff going on at home. This whole YouTube thing being real, I just don’t know what I’m doing anymore. It just seems like I’m just going with it.”

“Nothing wrong with going with the flow. But, this stuff at home, how bad is it?”

“It’s nothing bad, I can handle it. it just takes a lot of mental power to get myself past it. You know.”

“For sure.”

They sat back in silence.

“Here, how about we go for a little walk on the town. That should help relax you a bit.” Jensen suggests, as he finishes his pizza. Y/N not even halfway through her first slice.

“Where to?”

“Nowhere, just out for a little relaxing walk. Come on, and grab a jacket it’s supposed to be a little chilly.”

Jensen may not have had a destination in mind, but he knew one place that would help her relax.

The ports, anywhere where there was ocean. He noticed in her posts on Instagram, when she’s at a tropical beach she looks relaxed and at peace with everything. And she knew deep down, once she saw the sun setting by the waters and seeing what they were walking up towards, she knew that he knew.

She felt herself calm at the sight.

“See, you look relaxed already.”

“Thanks Jay, I really appreciated this.”

“It’s not a problem.” he says. Leaning kissing her atop her head with an arm wrapped around her shoulder.

“That jacket’s not warm enough, is it?”

“No, not really.”

A small shiver shook through her as she said that.

He chuckles. “Lets get you home and warm you up.” he says, leaning in, pecking a sweet kiss on her cheek. A centimeter too close to her lips.

Y/N looked up at him with a smirk.

“What was that?”

“It was a kiss, why…”

“You were a bit close to my lips Jay…are you trying to tell me something?” she gives him a playful smirk.

“Okay,” he rubs the back of his neck. “I may like you, since the first day you and I met on set. You kind of took my breath away.”

Her heart pounded in her chest as her face heated up at the comment. Making Jensen smile with a chuckle.

“I, uh…I like you too Jay. I thought it might be a crush thing but, it just wouldn’t shake. I really, really like you.”

Jensen had a smile that went from ear to ear. He brought her in a tight embrace, holding her close.

“I know what you’ve been through. And I want to be there for you, to help you through it all.” He says.

“Thank you Jay, I want to be there for you too.” She says.

She pulls away slightly to look up at him. She could see his eyes glide down from her eyes to her lips as he slowly leans in. Planting a soft kiss fully on her lips.

Their lips moving in a soft dance with each other, his tongue grazing her bottom lip silently asking for permission. She parts her lips at the right moment to allow him in and dominate her mouth in the kiss.

Just when their kiss grew hungry, and their skin began to heat up at the attraction and arousal.

“Finally!”

They pulled away, stunned at the exclamation. Seeing Jared walking down the sidewalk, facetime on revealing Misha.

“It’s about time you two got together!” Misha shouted on the phone.

Y/N’s face heated up once again, hiding against Jensen’s chest. Jensen chuckling.

“Yeah, finally you two can stop with the longing stares and the…does she like me? Does he like me?” Jared says.

“How’d you know we came down here?”

“I didn’t, I saw you and I saw her, and I couldn’t help myself.” Jared smiled.

The couple chuckling.

“You two were being such idiots.”

“Well, we can be idiots together, now, do you mind?” Jensen says.

“Oh, right, get back to making out with your girl. See you two on set, you better have hickey’s to show for it!” Jared shouts as he walks away.

Jensen and Y/N just rolling their eyes, giving each other a quick chaste kiss before walking back to the apartment.

Only he walked back with her to her apartment and sat with her as she played her music, even joining in turning it into a sweet duet.

a/n: What’d you think? Let me know, feedback is always appreciated.

Dean/Jensen Girls:

@pandazombie69, @luci-in-trenchcoats, @supernatural-jackles, @becs-bunker, @jayankles, @winchesters-favorite-girl, @mlovesstories, @akshi8278, @flamencodiva, @megzdoodle, @anotherspnfanfic, @misfit0118, @shawnie74, @missmemoire09, @racetrackheart, @spnbaby-67, @moonlight-on-her-skin, @backseat-of-deans-67chevy, @salt-n-burn-em-all, @lyarr24

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 4/17/2021

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bbrandy2002 · 4 years

Text

Fool’s Rush In

Part 10

I’m participating in @wackydrabbles prompt 71 “Dont be stubborn. Try it.”

Word Count: 1890

Pairing: Liam and Riley

Thanks @burnsoslow for beta reading and pretty much having to drag me across the finish line, as well as all the weeks and weeks of listening to me whine and pity myself. And @emkay512 for pre-reading and your encouraging words late Monday that made my whole night.

a/n: this is crack, plain and simple. I haven’t written since mid-october; just been paralyzed with fear over my own writing and this is my practice run and basically the best I could come up with. I’m going to try so so hard to finish this series

The new royal couple, fresh off their Vegas flight, stepped up to a makeshift podium the press had created on the tarmac. It was packed tightly with news station microphones crammed in every nook and cranny, one on top of the other. Voice recorders were spread across its surface, and the crown's private jet served as the backdrop. A bevy of frenzied reporters -- domestic and international -- pushed and elbowed their way into one another in hopes of getting the closest shot of the newlyweds and a chance to have their questions answered first.

“King Liam! Is the marriage binding?”

“How long have you known, Miss Brooks?”

“Were you trying to make a political statement by having a hooker at the ceremony?”

“Your Majesty! Will the monkey be joining your court soon?”

So many questions, most followed by laughter and snickers directed at the King and his bride.

Liam frowned as his eyes dashed side to side in a diligent effort to understand the literally thousands of questions that were lobbed at him all at once. He blinked rapidly as one flash of a camera after the next blinded and bleached his vision. Just as it would return to normal, another successive set of flashes would set him back again.

He had been a part of news conferences since he was a child, when he would watch his late father speak from different parts of the world, near and far, about this policy or that deal. Yet this was different. This was not only the biggest breaking story in Cordonia -- or even Europe -- but one that had swept the world.

His drunken actions two nights ago, no doubt, would have created a stir; however, it was Maxwell's post on Instagram of the ceremony that now made him tabloid fodder. Everyone knew about the king who was married by his own brother and an Elvis impersonator, the leg-humping monkey that served as a ring bearer, and the chain-smoking, tube-top-wearing prostitute who was the maid of honor. As confident as Liam had been that he could handle this, as he'd dealt with so many other stories of intrigue regarding the monarchy, he couldn't dispel the twisting feeling that burrowed deep into the pit of his stomach.

Maybe Madeleine was right: he had become a laughingstock. A failure. Just one big fuck up.

As much as he hated to hear the things said about him, he could deal with it. In the morning, he would call Prince Harry to swap stories, survival tips, and perhaps share a good laugh about it.

It was just ...

Liam felt Riley's tiny hand grip his a little tighter. He wouldn't blame her one bit if his little pussycat turned around and headed back up the steps to the jet and returned to Las Vegas. The only thing Liam wanted to do was keep her shielded from the hurtful comments and insensitive questions. But to his astonishment, she stood there with all the feigned confidence in the world, flashing a big, beaming smile that lit his heart on fire, while staring back at him affectionately. She was handling the situation better than she was before they stepped off the plane. He knew she was doing it for him. God, she just makes everything better.

Feeling a little more grounded and in control, Liam returned her smile. A touch of radiance sparkled between his eyes and hers, as if it were some sort of unspoken conversation only they understood. Riley knew exactly what he needed at that moment to rise above this scandal they were both being raked over the coals for: He needed her to be okay.

Raising his free hand to calm the crowd so that he might address their concerns, he noticed the press' attention and cameras suddenly shift away from him and into the distance. Murmurs and chatter soon erupted. Naturally, Liam's gaze followed suit -- towards a group of heavily-armed soldiers heading their way. They wore white hazmat uniforms and had self-contained breathing apparatus and personal protective equipment. Leading the charge was a well-dressed gentleman in a three-piece suit with a shiny bald head that glistened with heavy perspiration.

He walked like he hadn't shit in weeks.

Liam squinted and lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight. “The hell is that?”

Riley inched closer to Liam and clasped his suit jacket. "What's happening right now? Who are all those people, Liam?"

Liam's forehead creased in puzzlement; he didn't know. Wrapping his arms protectively around Riley, he pulled her even closer but never answered the question. It wasn't until the uniformed men stopped briefly and pointed to Drake, who was standing with his arms crossed at the bottom of the stairs, that it suddenly became clear who they were looking for.

Reporters and onlookers had been so focused on Liam’s return with the American woman, they hadn’t noticed that the brooding Walker had exited the jet last among their posse. Just as everyone had watched replays and snippets of Maxwell’s Instagram video, they were also fully aware the King’s best friend wasn’t exactly returning to Cordonia … healthy … thanks to Maxwell’s Tik Tok sing-along.

A video Drake Walker had no clue existed.

The crowd began to disperse in fear and panic. If men in hazmat suits were needed, they could only assume this went well beyond your casual, run-of-the-mill STD.

Still in no mood to play around, Drake started yelling obscenities and gradually backing away from the hazmat brigade that was closing in on him like a cheetah at a water buffalo hole.

"Mr. Walker," a heavily echoed voice called out, sounding oddly reminiscent of Darth Vader through their breathing contraption, "we need you to come with us."

"The fuck I do." Drake shook his head emphatically while continuing to slide away from them. "I'll beat the shit out of all of ya if you so much as touch me."

"Now, Mr. Walker, don't be stubborn. Try it, and you'll find yourself with a nice little tranquilizer to the ass. Are you going to come with us willingly, or do we have to make this more difficult than it needs to be?"

Drake stood motionless in disbelief. "I don't even know what you guys want or what you think I did," he squawked with a hint of desperation in his tone.

"Tough titties. SEIZE HIM!"

With that order, Drake twisted on the heels of his boots and took off, dodging and weaving away from a bunch of men he had no clue why were even after him.

He had a pretty good hunch, though, who set this chain of events in motion.

The bald guy in a three-piece suit walked up to Liam and flipped his badge open. "Your Majesty?"

Liam nodded, not bothering to acknowledge the man's credentials. "I am. What is the meaning of all this? What the hell are you doing with Drake?"

"Sir, if you will, it has come to our attention that Mr. Walker is a public health risk and highly contagious. We will have to secure him into our custody at once."

Liam scrunched up his face in utter confusion and stared back at the official before responding, “He just has case of crabs, syphilis, herpes, genital warts, gonorrhea, and chlamydia. You’re treating him like he’s about to start some damn worldwide pandemic. Without sexual contact and with heavy doses of medications and creams, Drake should be able to live a normal life like anyone else. So, as the ruler of this country, I am ordering your men to stand down at once.”

“My apologies, King Liam, but my orders come from the World Health Organization and the United Nations. You'll need to take this up with them. Dr. Wolfschitz was clear on the protocol."

"Dr. Wolfschitz?" Liam questioned as realization quickly set in. He twisted around to face Leo, who had this enormous shit-eating grin, the likes he'd never seen on him before. "You? You did this?"

“Walker messed with the wrong bull, little bro.” Leo stuck up his pointer fingers on both sides of his head with a menacing scowl and smugness in his tone. “Now he gets the horns.”

Liam swatted away one of Leo's finger horns. “This is serious, Leo. Not everything is a joke! You're going to fix this, NOW!"

Leo placed a comforting hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, patting it a few times before speaking softly to him. “Look, I know you’re upset right now. You two were very close. But the Drakester is going to a far better place. There’s a big open field and everything where he can run and play all day with others just like him. And all the meaty bones he can eat too … lucky bastard.”

Riley had to bury her face in Liam’s chest to prevent the laugh that threatened to escape, but the bobbing of her shoulders was something she couldn’t hide.

“NOW, Leo!”

Leo tried to hold his ground but was too weak to resist the impatient glare Liam was burning into his soul. After a brief moment, he rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "Why ya gotta be such a dillhole, Liam? Do you realize you get rattled faster than a two-tit turtle on a tightrope? It's really not your best quality, little brother, but we can work on that." Annoyed, Liam rubbed a hand over his eyes and groaned as his brother continued, "Either way, Father always said, ‘if you can't help your fellow man out, you might as well become one of the Walkers.’ Truer words were never spoken so eloquently.” Leo raised his eyes to the heavens thoughtfully before thinking better of it and lowered them toward the ground. "May you rest in peace, Father," he shouted.

As Leo trotted off to speak with Bald Dude to confess his false claim, Bastien helped guide Liam and Riley through the rambunctious swarm of reporters and spectators. Once they reached the limo, Liam helped Riley inside as Maxwell rounded the vehicle and climbed in on the other side. Pausing for a moment before sliding in, the King placed his hands on top of the open door of the limo and turned one last time to check on his friend. He swallowed hard over the guilt of leaving him behind. As His Majesty watched in horror, Drake took a tranquilizer dart to the back of the thigh and Bastien insisted the area was a security threat, shoving him inside. They would send another car to transport Drake and Leo back to the palace.

Bastien stomped on the gas pedal and sped off, kicking up dirt and smoke as the tires peeled and squealed against the fiery Cordonian asphalt.

When they passed through the airport's security gate, a small motorcade following closely behind, Liam finally lifted his head, his eyes growing wide when he realized what just happened: Bastien's shove had sent Liam flying across the seat to land face-first into a lap — her lap.

He stayed frozen in place, unable to look anywhere but the two slender, bronzed legs peeking out below the hem of his new wife's dress.

Riley lifted an eyebrow, a slight grin dangling from her plush pink lips. "Something you wanna say, Your Majesty?"

Everything that had just happened in the 15 minutes since they landed was long forgotten. Drake who? Liam glanced up with a devilish smirk. "Welcome to Cordonia, Pussycat."

@burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @hopefulmoonobject @texaskitten30 @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @loveellamae @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @caroldxnvxrs @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink

@liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography

@txemrn @ofpixelsandscribbles @alyssalauren @cordonianroyalty @monsoonblooms12 @mom2000aggie @theroyalheirshadowhunter @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @cinnamonspongecake @lifeaskim @neotericthemis @pink-diamond13 @walker7519 @natureblooms24 @yourmajesty09

Liam x MC only: Cordonia-gothqueen

Anything with Drake: @tinkie1973

FRI Series Tags: @sanchita012 @narrytheworld @queenwalton @gabesmommie1130 @cordonianprincess @liamandneca @emkay512 @waywardromancefantasygirl @nomadics-stuff @queendianaofcordonia @zaffrenotes @zilch3 @kat-tia801 @drrookie @sfb123

#fools rush in #liam x riley #the royal romance #liam x mc #trr #drake walker #king liam #bbrandy2002 #liam x oc

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alienitz · 3 years

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//posting this on instagram as i usually do would make me look like an attention whore so i'm just gonna write everything here bc i know no one's ever gonna read it - looks like i'm being overdramatic and complaining for nothing but i've been keeping this for myself for too long\\ + /!\tw: mentions of self-harm and suicide/!\

it's 12am and i've been crying for a few hours and every new thought i have, every single thing i look at makes me cry some more. i know i've been feeling down for years and even worse this year and a literal hell since i moved here alone, but the last few days have been the worst so far. i don't even know where to start, this life is just a fucking mess and i can't keep that weight on my shoulders anymore. it feels like i'm wandering alone as i've always been and whenever i hit rock bottom it somehow gets worse. whatever makes me happy one day is gonna destroy me the next one.

every time i get a call from my family or even when they visit, i tell them that everything's fine, the neighborhood is not so bad, school is really great and i'm making friends. friends, i tell them i'm good, not at my best but not at my worst either, no i don't own a cat but these little cuts are nothing to worry about and no worries because i can handle it. when really i've been walking around in this damn apartment for a week now and it made me lose it. i haven't eaten anything since last week (not a real meal at least, just some dumb stuff here and there), i cry myself to sleep every night, i listen to the same triggering songs on repeat, i go crazy and hide myself whenever someone's yelling in my street because it scares me, i lay in bed all day and night doing nothing and blankly staring at the ceiling, it makes me realize how i don't really have anyone by my side, someone that knows and that can act on it, no one to ease my pain as it's no one's role. also i've been sick for a few days now so i couldn't even get out of bed, i'm completely dehydrated from the crying and sweating because my body really shouldn't be reaching such a high temperature, my throat is burning, i'm starving but it just makes me feel very nauseous so i won't eat, and i woke up 4 times last night, i had hallucinations on the 4th time. when i finally got up i could barely walk and i found myself wondering where i was, i was feeling high and lost, i nearly fell in the hallway while being dizzy and trying to figure things out. i also noticed that no one's talked to me in days, except the few people i texted first and it certainly isn't helping me.

i usually spend most of my days daydreaming to escape reality but a week ago it changed and my mind's been busy with something else. i haven't been able to daydream since and i'm just forced to face my thoughts and the reality around me. so today after sitting and crying on my desk for a few hours, i just lost it, felt the need to yell and destroy everything, smash the furniture, burn the drawings, break every single object i own and used to enjoy. i didn't do any of this, but i wish i did. i'm usually dissociated from reality and now that i'm faced with it, it just makes no sense and it's driving me crazy. i thought about getting drunk, or taking too many pills, or cut some more, whatever. and then i burst into tears again and fell on my bed as i realized that it would take days, even weeks, before someone notices that i'm missing. they couldn't care less, everyone's busy with their own issues as it should be.

i keep telling myself that we all deal with some really fucked up shit, but i'm the weak one that just can't manage. the others are not breaking down like this, driving themselves crazy, or maybe they are but i can't see it. and i'm just a mess, i can't handle this. i hate this place, i'm scared of this creepy neighborhood, i'm failing all my classes, i'm not able to take care of myself - never been -, i've got no one to tell this to so i'm writing it on this dumb website and it's gonna be lost forever, i never had anyone by my side, i've been letting this loneliness kill me softly for years, the fact that no one's ever been interested in me confirms my thoughts about myself, whatever i bought to fill up this apartment is not me, my drawings are not art, they're just pieces of paper i covered to ask for help but it never fixed anything; just watch me give up and let go of this. it makes no sense anyway, i've only ever lived in my head but it's poisoned and i just can't keep going. i was never meant to be a part of this, nothing ever felt right - and what did just left me - and all of this just feels like i'll keep messing up again and again until the end.

i'm exhausted.

#tw #death tw #tw nightmares #falling apart #giving up #depressing shit #kinda depressing #depressing post #rip #sorry #death mention #mental breakdown

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illneverrecover · 4 years

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call you mine (M) | changkyun

➛pairing: Im Changkyun (I.M.) x reader ➛genre: friends with benefits!AU, non Idol!AU, angst, smut, fluff. ➛word count: 2,741 ➛rating: M ➛warnings: idk this is truly some sweet soft shit, mentions of alcohol, friends with benefits, standing sex, slight rough sex, biting/marking because clearly I have a kink, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of Mingi!!, lots of kissing, soft clown Chaingang truly. ➛summary: Changkyun knew he ruined your friends with benefits arrangement when he let his feelings be known, and now you’ve left him on read for weeks. So he does the only thing he can to stay sane - he religiously watches your Instagram stories. ➛notes: Another first for me - my first Monsta X fic! I’ve played around with writing Changkyun for a while now, mostly because I live to torture @taetaesbaebaepsae (which she deserves from all the PAINFUL and RUDE Baekhyun shit she’s written for me). However, she decided to actively commission her own demise, because she stays not listening to Namjoon and refuses to love herself. I’m glad I finally got a chance to take a stab at writing her ult, and I hope I did him justice! Enjoy your tomfoolery, Kristin! 💖 ➛song: Call You Mine - The Chainsmokers & Bebe Rexha | Horizon - I.M. & Elhae

It’s pathetic, he knows.

The way he can’t stop watching, the way he seeks your face out in an app full of millions of others. The way he can’t get you out of his bed, his head, his thoughts.

He fucked up, scared you off, and now he’s left with the aftermath of his own stupidity. Watching you through a screen to fight the withdrawals off, to keep his heart beating.

Changkyun knows you would laugh at him if you saw what he was doing.

Watching your Instagram stories is the only reason he’s heard you laugh in over two weeks, the only way he’s been able to see your eyes light up, your lips curve into a salacious grin. Things he fucking missed, thought he would have plenty of time to indulge in - until he couldn’t keep his mouth shut and ruined it.

He had taken you back to his place after a few shots of whisky at the dingy local bar, hands and mouth unable to leave your skin - just like the hundreds of times before. It had been four months since you had started this friends with benefits relationship, and despite having freedom to see whomever he wanted, Changkyun found himself only starving for you. So hungry that he couldn’t stand another moment in that place, watching you share your smile with anyone other than him. So he had tugged you close, nipped at your ear, told you that you were so damn beautiful that he couldn’t stand there another minute without you coming undone around him.

You had smirked, slid your hand down the front of his pants, grabbing his cock like you owned it, purring out the words “prove it” before following him outside, just like the hundreds of times before.

Pressed up against his wall, his pelvis flush with yours, Changkyun whispered filth in your ears as he ground up against you, swallowing your moans in greedy kisses. Desperate fingers had pulled at your top, freeing your breasts for him to worship as he worked your skirt up around your waist, thrusting his clothed length against your core until you were whining.

Changkyun always promised to take his time with you, to work you over until you were drunk on his touch and pleading for more - but you never let him, always knowing the right thing to say to get his gaze to go dark and lust to turn frantic, to unzip his jeans and press inside your dripping cunt right there in the hallway.

Just like the hundreds of times before.

You had come around him, digging your nails in his back so hard it left marks, made him growl your name against your collarbone as his thrusts picked up speed to fuck you through the high. You urge him on in the way only you can manage, begging for his release, whispering how much you want his come deep in your cunt. Biting down against the skin, he had spilled inside you with a final groan, hips twitching as he pumped you full of him, forehead resting against your shoulder.

Instead of pulling away immediately, Changkyun remained collapsed against you, breathing heavy. You had smacked at his shoulder, but he just chuckled, arms adjusting to continue a firm hold of your legs as he stayed inside of you, trapping you against his body and the wall.

“What are you doing, Kyun?” scoffing, you had grasped his jaw, forcing him to look at you. “I let you fuck me dirty against the wall without even demanding you buy me food after. Least you can do is let me get cleaned up.”

He had gazed up at you then, eyes piercing as they looked through you, and your heart clenched tightly in your chest.

He knew he shouldn’t say it. Knew it would scare you off. And yet….

“I would, you know.” Swallowing thickly, his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Take you to go get food. If you - I mean, if you wanted. If you’d let me.”

It was like he could see the carefully crafted defenses go up, the pain etching your brow and making your eyes go cold. Anxiety flooded his veins as you wiggled out of his grasp, sliding your clothes back into place as you moved towards his bathroom.

“You don’t mean that,” you murmured, faking a smile. “You know what this is, Kyun.”

“I do mean that!” He knew he sounded too eager, too pitiful, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I’d take you out to dinner. Or,” following you, he paused in the doorway, watching you appraise yourself in the mirror. “We could just get take-out and go somewhere private, drive to a park, bring a blanket and some booze, eat somewhere no one would know or bother us.”

Your answering laugh had sounded wrong, like it had cost you something - like it was the last thing you had wanted to do.

“Like a picnic? Changkyun, you’re saying you want to take me on a picnic? Like a proper date?”

Stuttering, he tried to explain himself, but you had cut him off with a single wave.

“Listen, we both know I’m not that kind of girl, and you don’t want me to be.” Leaning forward, you had pressed a kiss against his mouth, your eyes somber when you had pulled away, moved towards the door.

“What if I do?” His voice broke, wanting to reach out but his arms remaining stiff at his sides. “What if I want you to be that kind of girl, with me?”

Tears stung your eyes, your stomach sinking like you had been punched. You couldn’t do this, couldn’t handle the inevitable disappointment that would come when you got your hopes up.

“I’ll see you around,” you threw over your shoulder before shutting the door, and shutting him out.

Just like the hundreds of times before.

It had been two weeks now since he last saw you in person. It wasn’t for lack of trying; texting you at all hours had proven fruitless, even when he tried to send the usual ‘you up’ message like he didn’t just lay his heart out on the line. You responded airily, non committal, and he knew what you were doing.

You were trying to let him down easy.

So here he was, phone glued to his hand as he scrolled through to find your picture, clicking on it to see if there was any update. You didn’t post a bunch in your feed, but you had a tendency to update your stories often - filling them with silly memes and cute selfies, little videos of you going about your day. Cuddling with your cat, attempting to cook something for lunch. His favorite was when you would do tarot readings for your followers; the way your face would turn serious as you read the cards, passionate fire in your eyes as you helped deliver the message to its owner.

Seeing you that excited and genuine did something to him, made his chest feel like it was going to explode.

He knows you can tell that he’s watching, can see the icon of his profile showing up at the bottom of the video under “seen by.” He can only imagine what you’re thinking when you see it - that he’s a loser, this friend with benefits who turned lovesick puppy, but he can’t make himself care. It’s the only way he feels close, can pretend you’re still in his life.

He never thought that he would need you, now all he wants is to see you - for you to answer him, to come back to him.

Changkyun still sends texts, unable to stop his fingers from reaching out, despite knowing you’ll shut him down. He calls sometimes too, late at night when his blood is more whisky than plasma, though you never answer those. Instead he listens to your voicemail, eyes closed to stop the world from spinning, letting your voice lull him to sleep.

He convinces himself he’s fine with this arrangement, that things would be alright. He can just miss you from afar, observe you live your life through the pixels of a screen. That watching your stories is enough for him, will keep him afloat.

Until he sees you with someone else.

It was another Friday night he was spending alone, half drunk and on his phone, looking for your picture. Taking a deep breath, he had felt his heart stop when he saw the rainbow ring adorning your profile photo, meaning you had updated your story. Sighing, he tapped it, hoping that it would be a few videos so he could pretend for just a moment that he was beside you instead of wasting space on his bed.

The first clip was a selfie, your heavily lidded eyes staring seductively at the camera through your lashes, making his pulse jump and pants tighten. The caption “gonna get drunk tonight!” scrolled across the image, right below the pout of your lips. The next was a small video of you making a drink, giggling about the mixture of tequila and soju you were tossing in your cup, whispering to the camera how it was going to get you ‘all the way fucked up’. But it was the third clip that had his chest heaving, his lungs forgetting how to work.

You were walking out your door, a few people cluttering your front porch as you asked if anyone had a light. Some tall red headed kid - Changkyun refused to acknowledge him as anything more than that - had shouted out, and you squealed as you ran up to him, sliding directly onto his knee before switching the camera into selfie mode to capture the two of you. The next clip was you in his lap, one of your delicate hands sliding through his hair as he gave you a big dopey grin, a cigarette perched on your lips as you cooed at him and told him just how cute he was.

Fuck. He knew that look of yours, knew those moves. Knew exactly what you were doing, what you were hoping to do with that fucking Mingi kid, and he couldn’t stand it, not anymore.

Taking a few deep pulls directly from the liquor bottle, his fingers flew over the keys of his phone, sending you text after text - all of which were ignored. He knew calling would be pointless, that you would rather light yourself on fire than answer your phone - especially at a party - and he felt desperation creep up his throat, choking him.

Changkyun couldn’t let this happen. Couldn’t let you just forget about him.

Clicking back onto Instagram, he started sending you responses to the story video as he got dressed, throwing on the nearest pair of jeans and sliding on his boots.

<Baby?>

<I’m on my way. Don’t take that kid to your bed.>

It took painfully long for the Lyft to show up, and he gritted his teeth the whole route there, knee bouncing to stop himself from demanding the driver to go faster, to just hurry the fuck up and get to you.

When the car had pulled into your neighborhood, he tried to send another message, instead clicking a video. Too frustrated to change it back, he lets it record, his voice low and pained.

“I’m on my way, please let me in.”

You were alone on the deck when your phone started vibrating, the ding of an Instagram direct message making you click the app, eyes widening in surprise when you saw the number of notifications.

Changkyun, all from him.

Awestruck, you scrolled through every line, your heart throbbing with each word he had written.

You didn’t think he cared, not like that. Sure, he missed the sex, but that’s what you expected. That’s what all of them wanted when they sent you late night texts, when they called your phone at three in the morning. Empty promises and broken vows were what kept you company in the dark, when they’d predictably leave you alone with an ache between your legs and in your chest. None of them really wanted you, cared about you. After a few weeks of ghosting, they’d all disappear into thin air like expected, and your heart would harden just a bit more.

But now…

Another chime pulls you from your thoughts, eyes flicking back to the light of your phone. Instead of another direct message, it’s a notification that Changkyun had updated his story for the first time in months.

Shaking fingers slide against the screen, your vision blurring as you take in the shadowed back seat of another person’s car, the only light neon pink from the sign of the Lyft drivers decal. For a moment, all you can hear is the quiet chattering of a distant radio, of someone breathing heavily.

And then his voice croaking over the speaker, raspy with need.

“I’m on my way, please let me in.”

The video fades just as a car pulls up to your curb, a flurry of movement as Changkyun climbs out, stumbles towards you. He all but collapses into your arms, his breath dripping with liquor, eyes reddened but burning fiercely.

“Y/N,” he mumbles, hands coming to cup your face, thumb dragging against the smooth skin of your cheek. “I want to take you on a picnic.”

You laugh, though it comes out more like a sob. “What? What are you talking about? Did you call a Lyft and come all the way across town to tell me that, you clown?”

His finger taps against your lips once, twice. “Shh. Just let me-” he sighs, stomping a foot. “Let me talk.”

He waits until you nod before continuing, words surging from his mouth as if he couldn’t hold back a second longer.

“I came all the way here because I want to take you on a picnic. I want to buy you food and take you on cute little dates and do cheesy things that make you smile at me like you are right now,” he grins, pulling you until your chest rests against his own. “I’m here because I couldn’t stand you ignoring me anymore. I meant everything I said - that I miss you, that I want to be with you, if you’ll give me the chance. I want to call you mine.”

Pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes fall shut, his voice fervent and barely more than a whisper.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Tears brim your eyes, and you fight every old wound that tells you to shove him away, to call him a liar. Instead you allow yourself to follow your gut, your heart for what feels like the first time, leaning back to give him a watery smile in return.

“I love you too, Changkyun.”

His mouth immediately lands on yours, tongue eagerly tracing the seam of your lips until it’s slipping inside, tasting every inch of you, ravenous and unsatisfied until your knees are shaking. He’s walking you backwards towards the door, tugging at your clothes, and you giggle at his impatience.

Pulling away, you gasp for air, palm pressing against his shoulder to hold him back for a moment. “But listen, if I give you a chance, that means you have to stop stalking my Instagram, you creep. And don’t try to deny it, I see you all over my stories, lurking around.”

He chuckles then, nipping at your bottom lip as his eyes darken. “Please, don’t act like you don’t love the attention,”

Pushing the door open, he guides you inside, mouth working over your neck, arms wrapped around your waist until your back is flattened against the wall.

“Plus, there’s no need, now that I got you,” he confesses, his nose swiping against yours gently before he captures your lips between his own, hitching your legs to drape around his waist as he grinds against you, humming words of praise.

Just like the hundreds of times before, but now as his.

#changkyun x reader #IM x reader #changkyun smut #IM smut #monsta x smut #monsta x scenario #changkyun scenario #I.M. scenario #I.M. smut #I.M. x reader #ksmutclub #plotsofpastel #im changkyun #monsta x #monsta x fanfic #taetaesbaebaepsae #my writing #fic: call you mine #fic: cym

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cinnaminsvga · 4 years

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🌸 social media au where y/n posts a fake boyfriend application on twitter as a dare but ends up seeking something real in the long run (aka how to fall in love the zillennial way) 🌸

A/N: I know I said this update wouldn’t be written, but I decided to fix the little drabble I already had written and... It’s not as bad as I thought and now I’m moderately happy with it. Anyway... We’re entering angst city babey so please put on your seatbelts because we are SOARING! || W.C. 1.8K

prev // part 18 of ? // next masterlist here.

[updates every 6PM PST]

After sending his last text to you, Namjoon is only slightly surprised when he sees your caller ID flashing on his phone screen. When he looks at the time, he notices that it had taken you less than a minute for you to call him, no doubt ready to scream your head off at his outrageous suggestion. Admittedly, he knows that his idea might be a little outside of your comfort zone, but he believes you can do it. If his people reading skills are even remotely average, then he’s sure that it’ll work if you just—

“KIM NAMJOON! HOW IN THE WORLD DID YOU COME UP WITH THAT CONCLUSION?” Your voice is loud enough to burst an eardrum, but luckily, Namjoon had already expected your volume and had held his phone an arm away. In his nine-ish days of knowing you, he’s somewhat accustomed to your theatrics, though you’re still no match for Hoseok’s excited shrieks.

“Hello Y/N,” Namjoon hums, sitting up groggily from his bed. It’s a bit too early to go to sleep, but he supposes that your panicked screams are going to keep him up a little bit longer. “I feel as though you’re overreacting a little.”

“A little?” You scoff loudly, and Namjoon can imagine you pacing circles in your room. You did always seem a little fidgety when you two went out together. “Namjoon, you can’t just expect me to go on a date with Jungkook—“

“Why not? You guys go out all the time, don’t you?” Namjoon points out, smiling slightly at your exasperated huffs.

“Well, that’s different! Those were platonic hangouts! Just bros being bros!”

“Then change the context a little bit. You don’t have to ask him to be your boyfriend just to go on a date.”

“Namjoon, I know you’re a smart man but I don’t think your math skills are all that great,” you say brusquely. “That doesn’t add up! If I ask him on a date, then he’ll know I’m into him and—“

“And that’s a bad thing?” Namjoon interrupts, raising a brow. “Y/N, we both know you’re being a little unreasonable right now.”

You splutter for a moment, but you find that you’re unable to retort. Namjoon smirks, continuing, “Y/N, I know you’re worried that Jungkook might get swept away now that he’s quote-unquote ‘single.’ I get it. But if you’re not going do anything about it and suffer in silence, then he’s definitely going to leave. Besides, I already told you that he probably likes you back, judging from how jealous he got. You could probably even ask your friends and they’d tell you the same.”

You snort. “God, I’d rather die than talk about… love stuff with those freaks I call friends,” you cough out a laugh, muffling the sound before it can continue. Namjoon knows you’re a bit conscious of your “unflattering” snorts, but he just finds them cute. A lot of the things you don’t like about yourself are cute in Namjoon’s eyes. “I can’t even imagine going to any of them about this… They’d just bully me and make me do something I don’t want to do!”

“Isn’t that basically what I’m doing right now?” Namjoon laughs, giggling even harder when he hears your tired groan.

“Yeah, but you’re nice. Unlike those meanies,” you say. Namjoon hates to admit it, but he does appreciate being special to you, even if it’s over something trivial like this.

“You’re right. I wouldn’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do,” Namjoon starts. He can hear you humming in agreement, but he doesn’t stop there. “But, it is a suggestion. Seeing as how you don’t have any other idea how to solve this mess, I’d say go for it. What’s the worse thing that can happen?”

“Um? I get rejected? Hello?”

“You don’t have to let him know it’s a date, you know.”

“What do you mean? Namjoon, you should stop speaking in riddles because I honestly don’t have enough brain cells for this, clearly.”

Namjoon sighs. “I guess what I’m trying to say is… What if you fake date him?” When you don’t reply immediately, Namjoon is quick to keep talking. “Not that I’m asking you to stop fake dating me! What I’m trying to say is… Maybe try to rekindle the rumor that you and Jungkook are dating? He doesn’t have to know it’s a date, so long as everyone else thinks that you two are.”

“I… I guess?” You sound unsure, though Namjoon admits it’s kind of a long shot to begin with, not when you wouldn’t know the last thing about being subtle. He kind of wants to throttle you, in a gentle way. It’s honestly frustrating to see you like this, and he just wishes he could… Make the problem go away.

That would be easy. If Y/N just stopped pining after Jungkook, then he could just come in and—

His thoughts skid to a halt, nearly slapping himself to keep from going down that road again. Look at him, trying to help you with your mess when even he can’t get a handle on his own emotions. What is going on inside my head, he thinks sadly to himself.

“Listen, it’ll be really easy! All you have to do is text him and say, ‘Hey, wanna go have dinner with me tomorrow?’ but bring him somewhere nicer, perhaps? Then take a photo of him all dressed up and looking boyfriend-y and post it on Instagram. I’m sure that’ll shut people up.”

“Namjoon, I don’t know if you’re aware, but Jungkook’s definition of ‘dressing up’ is combat boots, a hoodie, and his god-awful backpack the size of Africa. He looks like a nerd.”

“I mean, you kinda dress alike…” Namjoon mutters, and he’s thankful that you don’t hear his slight slip-up. He clears his throat. “A-anyway, I’m sure it’ll be fine? I think it would be more suspicious if he wore a suit and tie or something. So long as you guys look cozy and comfy together, I’m sure people will take the hint. If worse comes to worst, I can maybe slip something to Johnny and he can retract his statement or something.”

“I hope to god that isn’t the case,” you say. Namjoon nods, before realizing you can’t even see him.

“Right. Well, I think everything should work out perfectly. Just ask him to some popular couples restaurant. Maybe the nice Italian place in Hongdae? Something more romantic, not necessarily fancy.”

There’s a pause on your end for a moment causing Namjoon to sweat a little, wondering if he might be overstepping. He does genuinely want to help you, though he hopes he isn’t actually weirding you out somehow. He’s not adept at handling love problems as much as he’s trying to appear to be, since he’s mostly using the romance novels he had read during his teen years as his sole source of reference. This is what I get for not dating for so long, Namjoon thinks, grimacing.

“Namjoon.” You break the silence, your voice quieter than before. Namjoon has to strain his ears a little, pursing his lips as he waits for your response. “Are you…”

Namjoon tilts his head. “Am I?”

Namjoon hears you hesitate, stuttering syllables over his phone speaker like you aren’t quite sure how to ask your question. “Do you remember when I asked you a few days ago if you were sure you don’t actually have a girlfriend?”

“Yeah?”

“I just… I don’t know how to say this without being weird, but I just want to say you’re great. Like,” you huff out a laugh, incredulous. “You’re just… The perfect package? You’re so kind and so sweet and it’s just? Almost mysterious how you don’t have someone special to call your own yet.”

Namjoon smiles wryly to himself, head bowed as he stares at his wrinkled bedsheets. “I suppose other people don’t feel the same way.” He tries forcing out a laugh, but it sounds a little strangled. His chest feels tight, strangely. Hopefully, you don’t notice.

“No, I highly doubt that! You’re literally the perfect guy. Any person would be lucky to have you as their boyfriend.” You sound almost indignant, like you can’t imagine anyone ever thinking badly about him. He almost wants to laugh, but he tightens his hands into fists instead, digging his nails into his palms and leaving crescents in their wake.

“Well then… I guess that makes you lucky to have me, then?” Namjoon nearly slaps his hands to his mouth, a cold tingle of embarrassment mixed with fear running down his spine. Did he really just say that— “What I mean is, erm…”

“N-no, I get you.” You’re giggling, but—is he imagining it?—you sound a little nervous to his ears. If he thinks hard enough, he can almost imagine you blushing, bottom lip trapped underneath your teeth. “I guess I am lucky to be your fake girlfriend, huh? Even for just a few weeks?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon breathes out the word, guilt washing over him like waves. Here he is, feeling things that he shouldn’t be, over a girl who was never his to begin with. There are seedlings in his chest, barely anything to write home about. But he knows—a gardener can see the garden even before the flowers have bloomed. Each day he spends with you is another day they get a chance to grow, and he’s afraid he’ll soon be overrun, unable to handle the forest that is bound to erupt. “Just a few weeks,” he echoes, unable to completely hide the sadness from his words.

“I guess I am just being melodramatic about everything, huh?” you say. It takes a moment for Namjoon to even remember what the two of you had been talking about, so caught up in his thoughts that he has to pinch himself back to reality.

“Think of it as a funny story to tell your grandkids,” Namjoon says.

You laugh, and Namjoon can feel a seedling sprout its first leaf. “Yeah. Definitely. God, I can’t even begin to think about kids… Not when I can’t even ask him out on a fucking date.”

“You can do it, Y/N.” Namjoon whispers. He flops back down onto his bed, eyes half-closed as he stares at his cracked ceiling. If he breathes quietly enough, he can hear the sounds of Seoul outside his windowpane. If he stops breathing altogether, he might be able to hear you across the city, your socked feet padding towards your bed, curling up into your own blanket.

“Thank you, Namjoon. Really.”

For what? Namjoon leaves that part unspoken. “You’re welcome,” he says instead. He drops the call, feeling a little emptier than before.

#bangtanarmynet #bts social media au #bts scenarios #bts texts #bts fake texts #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts #jungkook scenarios #namjoon scenarios #jungkook fake texts #namjoon fake texts #jungkook fanfiction #namjoon fanfiction #jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #jeon jungkook #bangtan

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milazka · 4 years

Text

August twelve — Rudy Pankow

image found on pinterest

summary: the one where it’s your boyfriend’s birthday and you planned an amazing day for him.

request: yes

content: fluff

author’s note: i didn’t add a smut part because i feel like i’m only writing smutty imagines and i needed to write a fluffy one with this hottie! my requests are open and you can find my masterlist at the end of this post if you feel like reading more of my stuff!

warnings: most of my stories may contain mature themes such as swearing, underage drinking, substance abuse, sexual language and scenes, fights and more. also, i do not intend to be offensive towards anyone who reads this blog, if anything written can be perceived as hurtful to any community or person, i apologize, it was never my purpose while writing it.

word count: 1700.

She was standing in the frame of the door, her pretty eyes observing the young man lying on the bed, his body half covered by the grey blanket. His chest was rising at a peaceful rate with no sign of trouble apparent on his angel face. A little smile slipped over her rosy lips as she thought about how lucky she was that this man was still a part of her life, twenty years later. Both born in Ketchikan, Alaska, just a few months apart, Rudy and her had grown up as a duo. hey did everything together. Rarely did you ever saw one without the other; she was the Bonnie to his Clyde and nothing in the world could have changed that. Over the years, they both had a few meaningless relationships, and they never lasted long. The girls were envious of his closeness with Y/n while the boys were quick to understand that she would never look at them the way she looked at Rudy; he was her person, but she hadn't figured it out yet. It was on a cold December afternoon, a few days before the New Year’s eve, that they exchanged their first kiss, their lips frozen by the Alaskan winter, both seated by the burning fire in the chimney. Five years later and in a much warmer town, she was looking at her sleepy boyfriend with the same sparks in her eyes.

“You're staring at my butt, aren't ya?”

Rudy's sleepy voice took her out of her thoughts as she laughed. His eyes were half opened and he had pillow marks all over his right cheek. His disheveled blond hair was falling out in front of his pretty ocean colored eyes. She carefully made her way to the bed, trying not to knock over the breakfast tray she was holding with both hands.

“I made you waffles”

“The blueberry ones?” he asked with his childish voice and she nodded. “For what occasion?”

“It’s your birthday, remember?” she chuckled as she watched his facial expression change from confused to excited. He has always loved his birthday, especially since the day she became his girlfriend and always planned a day full of surprises for him. Rudy grasped her blue sweater sleeve and lured her towards him to kiss her lips tenderly.

“Mmm you taste like maple syrup.”

“I may or may not have already eaten a waffle while cooking them,” she smiled, tilting her head to the side to give him her guilty puppy eyes, making him fall more in love with her. “I planned the whole day so you better start eating your waffles now because we’re leaving in an hour.”

“Did I ever tell you you're the best girlfriend?” he mumbled with his mouth full of waffles dipped in maple syrup.

“Many times, but I'll never get tired of hearing you say it, lover boy.”

“Good, because with such a good waffles recipe, you're stuck with me for a while, pretty girl!”

─── °• ❀ ───

Chase picked them up around eight pm in front of their apartment with his black truck, the rest of the cast were already at the the Pate’s house, decorating and preparing the cake. She had blindfolded his boyfriend and he kept asking where they were going every single minute of the trip like a child. He had done the same thing a few months ago when she took him skydiving for the first time, it was almost routine for her to hear him complain in the back of the car.

“Stop asking, you big baby!” she said to him, turning her upper body toward the back of the car where he was seated. “It’s a surprise, I’m not gonna ruin it because you can't wait for a few minutes.”

He gave her his pouting face and crossed his arms on his chest, knowing she would not say a word to him about it even if he tried harder. A few minutes later, Chase parked his truck next to Drew's car. She walked to the left side of the car to opened Rudy's door, quickly kissing him on the lips and automatically causing a big smile to cover his pouty face. She guided him to the backyard with Chase’s help. He opened the back yard gate, letting them pass in front of him before closing it back so Lilah's dog would not run away like he did multiple times when they filmed the first season of the show. All the cast members were silently gathered in front of a multicoloured cloud of balloons and were holding a sign that said 'Happy birthday, Rudy!'

“Okay, you can take your bandana off!” she said to his ear and he could feel the excitement in her voice.

Slowly, he pulled his blindfold down and a wide smile slipped on his lips at the sight of all his friends singing happy birthday to him. He squeezed his girlfriend's hand while his friends were still singing and she couldn't help but let a few tears of joy run down her cheeks when she saw him so touched by the surprise she had planned for him.

“Thank you for all of this, baby. I love you more and more everyday my sweet girl,” he whispered to her ear before leaning down to kiss her soft lips that tastes like caramel due to the caramel macchiato she drank in the car.

“I’m happy you’re happy, lover boy,” she said to him as he pressed his cheek against her palm, a smile at the corner of his lips. “Now, go hug your friends!”

─── °• ❀ ───

After her and Rudy hugged and thanked everyone, they all swapped their clothes for bathing suits that would come in handy during their little boat trip of the afternoon. Jonas had let them borrow his boat, taking advantage of the fact that his children were with them to spend a day with his wife at the spa. Drew was at the helm of the boat while the others were all sitting on the benches, toasting to Rudy's birthday just before Chase announced that they were far enough away from the shore to put the tube in the water. JD, Rudy and Y/n were the first ones to shotgun a spot on the pneumatic tyre.

“Babe? Can you help with the zipper?” Rudy asked his girlfriend, frowning completely clueless.

“He’s twenty-two and still needs his girlfriend to zip his life jacket,” Jonathan mocked him, resulting in him being pushed in the water by a proudly smirking Rudy who quickly followed him the water, grabbing Y/n by the waist to take her with him. She surfaced quickly thanks to her life jacket, clearing her face of wet hair and sending a wince at her boyfriend. They all swam to the tube, splashing each other on purpose along the way. Rudy climbed aboard first and reached out his hand to Y/n to help her climb up. She sat between him and Jonathan, clutching a black rubber handle with one hand while the other was firmly intertwined with her boyfriend's hand.

“Are you ready?” yelled drew, turning his upper body toward the back of the boat, his right hand resting on the wheel.

“Aye aye, Captain!” Rudy screamed back and the boat begun to pick up speed.

The water was splashing back in their faces and they could barely keep their eyes open, but they couldn't help smiling stupidly. The three of them let out cries of surprise and laughter every time they jumped a wave and almost got ejected from the tube. They could see Madison and Chase laughing at them while Madelyn filmed them for her next tomfoolery instagram post. Drew took a sharp right turn, dropping Y/n and JD on Rudy. She firmly grabbed her boyfriend's bicep after she lost her grip on the handle and pushed JD back up with her shoulder so he could settle back into his seat. Just when they thought Drew was done messing with them, he suddenly accelerated, ejecting them out of the tube like three little rockets.

“You fucker!” Rudy shouted to his friend, laughing before turning towards his girlfriend. “You okay baby?”

“All good and still in one piece!” she replied, swimming back to the boat where Deion gave her a hand to climb up. A few seconds later, she felt a towel being placed on her shoulders and two arms wrapped around her waist. She smiled, turning her head to meet the face of her boyfriend who had pressed his chin to her shoulder. He placed a few kisses on her neck, making her squirm under his grip from the tickling of his lips against her wet skin.

“Look at them! You guys are so cute,” whined Lilah, taking a picture of them. Y/n blushed while Rudy smiled proudly. “Can you send me the picture? I'm gonna post it on instagram.” rudy said as he grabbed his phone and sat on one of the benches while Chase and Madelyn were putting on their life jackets. She sat next to him, resting her head on his shoulder and playing with the hem of his boarding shorts, a gift she gave him for his birthday last year, right before he started shooting for Outer Banks. He quickly wrote a caption and posted the photo of them on his instagram, getting hundred of likes and comments only a few seconds after.

‘My sweet girl. Thanks for the amazing birthday surprise! Love you to the moon and back, my love.’

“I love you too, baby,” she cupped his face with her palms and kissed his salty lips. “Oh, before I forgot,” she brought her face close to his and took her sensual innocent voice. “Since it’s your birthday, I’m gonna let you do whatever you wanna do to me tonight.”

His eyes opened widely and he cleared his throat. “Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me, pretty girl,” he kissed her, nibbling at her bottom lip. “I’m gonna please you so much tonight that you’re gonna beg me to stop.”

She smirked at him and grazed his crotch with her fingertips. “I look forward to it.”

─── °• ❀ ───

mila’s masterlist

taglist (send me an ask if you want to be added)

@milaonthemoon @spilledtee @pogue-writings @thebutterflyonhischest @ilovejjmaybank @bananasfromtarget @drewstarkeyobx @void-maybank @prejudic3 @pit-zuh @starlightstarkey @lefthandwritings @theonetheonlyalexbrown

#rudy pankow #rudy pankow imagine #rudy pankow fanfiction #rudy pankow one shot #rudy pankow obx #rudy pankow outer banks #rudy pankow fluff #rudy pankow fic #rudy pankow x you #rudy x reader #rudy pankow x y/n #rudy pankow x reader #outer banks #obx #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #obx cast #outer banks one shot

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Chase the Shadows Away (Taywhora) - Juno

Summary: It’s April 2020, the UK is in lockdown, and Tayce gets a hand-delivered letter from her neighbour Aurora which may change her life.

A/N: So this is set during lockdown and does mention covid, so please bear this in mind when reading if this will be a worry, but otherwise I hope you enjoy. CWs in place for alcohol, mental health mentions, and non-adherence to lockdown rules at one point.

Otherwise it’s quite fluffy with some h/c. I hope you enjoy.

The first letter Tayce got was in early April.

She hadn’t had much post since the whole country had been locked down, no one allowed to move outside their front doors for more than once a day for threat of fines and penalties and even getting sick. Most of the letters she was getting this week had been birthday cards for her absent housemate. She’d put the various brightly-coloured cards and Amazon boxes in a pile outside Viv’s bedroom door, and gave the pile the middle finger every time she walked past it.

But today there was a plain, white envelope, with “Hi” written on it in glittery red pen, and when Tayce opened it, she found a piece of notebook paper that had been folded at least four times, and Tayce nearly threw it across the room with the effort it was taking to open.

This had better be worth it.

When she got it unfolded, she read the three lines in the same glitter pen, then again, and once more just in case.

‘Hi, I’m Aurora. I’m on my own in my flat 7D because my housemate moved home because of lockdown, and you seem to be alone too. Want to write to each other? X’

And Tayce couldn’t hold back the rush of emotion, as much as she tried - but she was alone, and she took comfort knowing only these four walls would see tears stream down her face.

——

Tayce was on her own in the flat.

In the day time she opened her work laptop, thanking god she was allowed to work from home; throwing a hoodie over her pyjama top just in time for the 9am meeting where her boss grinned at everyone and told them all to keep swimming and chin up and whatever other self-indulgent bullshit she had read in her How To Motivate Your Teammanual in the chapter about Managing Pandemics.

Tayce was still surprised at how much bullshit her workmates seemed to swallow; all of them with the same broad smiles and straightened hair and shaved chins and eyeliner, for fuck’s sake - but Tayce copied them, knowing that not painting her own smile and her own eyebrows on was damning herself for the inevitable call and the simpering It’s Good To Talk conversation, followed by u k hun xx to be flashing repeatedly in the work WhatsApp group from all the team.

In the evenings, the only noise was the clink of the glass bottle against the wine glass. One glass was enough to make her a little sleepy, two was enough to make her dance, and three was enough to make her post something cryptic on her insta story and see if anyone DMed her.

Sometimes they did.

Joe liked to crack a few morbid jokes about how it was the apocalypse and we were all going to be dead by 2021, which didn’t help Tayce in the slightest. Ginny would message “You alright, bab?” at three in the morning, but never reply to any other message. Tia would send Tayce a picture of the banana bread she’d baked as if that would cheer Tayce up.

And Cherry sent her a message one time, telling her to look after her mental health, and then Tayce felt bad because Cherry worked for the NHS and only seemed to work and sleep right now, her insta photos showing her looking more and more gaunt, with #ClapForHeroes and #ProtectTheNHS appearing at the bottom of all her posts.

Nothing curbed the gaping black hole in Tayce’s chest, sucking everything that was good from her body and leaving her a shell.

Until the letter arrived.

——

Two days after she’d posted her own letter back to 7D, another letter arrived, in the same glittery red pen, this time addressed to her, with Tayce written on the front of the envelope this time.

‘Hi Tayce (sp?) nice to meet you, don’t worry I don’t know what to say either! Where in Wales are you from? I’m from Nottingham but I came to London for uni and didn’t leave! Are you still working rn? I got furloughed which is a bit shit. And my housemate is staying with her boyfriend so she can’t move back. Have you been clapping for the NHS? Someone on my floor was banging a pan or something!! Hope your ok? WB Aurora xx’

“I’m making a new friend,” Tayce had said to her mum on the phone later that night.

“In lockdown?”

“She’s delivering me letters.”

“How?”

“By hand, mum.” Tayce forced a laugh. “You know. Through the letterbox like a normal letter.”

“I hope you’re washing your hands before and after you open them, are you?”

“Yeah, of course,” Tayce grimaced as she said it.

“Good. Stay safe. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

One of these days, Tayce thought as she disconnected the call, she might be able to say it without her voice breaking.

——

By mid-April, a full month since lockdown had started and two weeks after the first letters between them, Aurora had given Tayce her instagram handle, and Tayce had given hers in return. Tayce found herself spending all of her Good Friday skimming down the page on moreauroramore, looking through all of her new pen pal’s photos and trying desperately not to look like an idiot by accidentally double-tapping any that were obviously over a year old.

Tayce had pictured Aurora in her mind as being over-excitable, short, with dark hair and lots of dusty pinks and baby blues and other pastel colours as her aesthetic, maybe with pot plants and cat pictures and cutesy little slogans surrounded by hearts. Instead she’d found a smolderingly attractive woman with a ridiculously versatile and sophisticated sense of fashion; one photo in a rococo-inspired summer dress, and the next in a cerulean blazer, matching trousers, and stilettos. Her hair was platinum-blonde, but it was hard to tell her eye colour as she seemed to own a never-ending plethora of colour contacts; and the eyebrow ring in the early pictures was replaced by a silver septum ring in later ones.

Her own insta looked quite plain in comparison, Tayce thought to herself. The landscapes she liked to post were interesting to her but probably not to the magnificent person on Aurora’s insta. The last picture Tayce had taken was of herself with her brother and niece in red rugby shirts just before the Six Nations was on; the last selfie before the last time she’d gone home which was … only February, she realised.

February felt like years ago.

When Tayce had awoken the next morning, she was greeted by the doorbell, and an Amazon driver sprinting away the moment she opened the door. A letter was on the doormat, in the familiar red glittery pen, and a single chocolate Easter egg.

‘Happy Easter Tayce. Don’t know if you celebrate but lol thought you would like some chocolate anyway! Don’t eat it all at once. Aurora xx’

It made Tayce’s gut wrench with guilt that she hadn’t thought to get Aurora one.

But it made Tayce even more pained, once she had clicked onto her instagram, to see that moreauroramore had liked all thirteen of the pictures she’d posted this year.

——

The zoom call at the end of April with the others from her uni group, saw not just Cherry missing, but also Ellie and Veronica.

“Ellie’s moving this week,” Lawrence nodded at the screen, “but that was all she’d tell me. She didn’t say where. Or if she’s staying in Dundee or anything. I just know she’s still trying to get her internet set up and I think she’s a bit stuck.”

“What about Vee?” Ginny asked in a low voice.

They all recognised the somber tone. They’d all taken it up. A change in their voices that all of them recognised in a kind of collective telepathic awareness. A hush in the calls, as if someone were dying, or had just died. Whenever anyone was missing, it was always the same worry circling all of their minds: what if it’s covid what if it’s covid what if it’s -

Tia was shaking her head. “It’s not covid,” she said, reading the minds of everyone through the internet, but her voice was still solemn as she continued. “I spoke to her mum. She’s -“

“Say depressed, Tia, it’s fine.” Bimini spoke gently, but not all of them were as open as Bimini was. Especially when it came to Veronica, who was a brick wall when it came to showing what she was feeling.

“She’s - not in a good place.”

“Say mental health,” Bimini said, shaking their head. “It’s okay to not be okay.”

“I don’t think that’s gonna make her feel any better, Bim.” Tia rolled her eyes.

“We’re all feeling this,” Pip nodded. “We all need to talk to each other.”

“Veronica won’t. Not yet. We just need to be there for her when she does. Anyway, who’s done anything interesting? Anyone else been trying banana bread? Everyone managed to find bogroll from somewhere now? No one is having the same problem that Joe had when she -“

“I don’t think we need to go any further with that one, love,” Joe muttered.

“I’ve made a pen friend.”

Everyone sat in stunned silence at Tayce’s sentence, mouths open like fish at feeding time.

“A pen friend? What is this, 1986?”

“Shut up, Ginny. I think that’s kind of cute, actually,” Tia mused, tilting her head to one side.

Tayce nodded. “Something a bit different. She lives in my block of flats. Two floors up from me. Been nice, to talk to someone, ever since Viv buggered off to her boyfriend’s house. Seriously, as soon as Boris announced lockdown she was jumping in her car and off to Liverpool.”

“You said she was a bit flaky,” Tia said sympathetically. “What’s your new pen pal’s name?”

“Aurora.”

“A-what?” Ginny raised their eyebrows. “Can we just call her Rory?”

“No.”

“We should get her on a call with us when Veronica’s back. Ronni and Rory, sounds like Ant and Dec will have some stiff competition when they get wind of that.”

“Ginny -“ Tia began, but Tayce was trying to hold back a chuckle.

——

‘Someone is talking about a street party on the 8th of May. Are you gonna go? I was gonna stay indoors but if you’re gonna go outside i will too xx’

Tayce knew she shouldn’t be thinking of meeting strangers outside her flat while the pandemic was ongoing, but she hadn’t seen a familiar human since March other than on a zoom call screen.

‘Hi Aurora, yeah i will go outside for a little bit. Look forward to meeting you properly instead of over letters! Tayce’

And Tayce finally stopped hesitating, adding two kisses on the end for the first time.

The weather was meant to be lush for a May bank holiday, as Tayce knew because her colleagues wouldn’t shut up about it. Almost eight weeks of lockdown were beginning to show the cracks in all their faces - no more eyeliner, and even Linda in Accounts had stopped posting boomerang videos of her kids doing Joe Wicks workouts while she waved her arms behind them.

So Tayce was over the moon when Friday rolled around and she could slam the Dismiss button on her phone alarm, turn over and sleep in until noon. Once she woke up though, she sat up with a jolt in her bed and realised she’d have to get ready; somehow it was important that she looked right today.

It was a power play, she knew it. An armour. But there was just something about clothes that made her mood turn in an instant. Her favourite leather jacket was probably a bit too heavy for the warm sunshine - warm sunshine? In May? - so she opted for the black denim instead and a skirt that hugged her slender figure, leaving her hair loose and wishing she’d gone for a trim before the lockdown. Maybe she should take her scissors to it?

She held the only scissors she had to hand - a pair of craft scissors - and wondered what her hairdresser mum would say if she knew that her daughter had taken non-styling scissors to the 30-inches of hair that she had.

No - better not. Her mum could give her a go over once the lockdown period had ended.

Someone was playing tunes on a speaker already when Tayce came down the stairs, dragging the garden chair Viv had left behind and brushing the digestive crumbs off it. One of the neighbours she recognised from her floor handed her an ice-cold can of Fosters which she sipped, not really enjoying the taste but relishing the freedom of it all. She knew to keep two metres from everyone, and she knew Cherry would absolutely murder her if she disobeyed that rule.

As soon as Aurora came into view from the block of flats, Tayce knew that keeping to the two metre rule would prove a little harder than she had first thought.

Aurora’s insta pictures showed a fashion model trapped in a little box on a screen, striving to get out - but in the flesh, she looked as if she had just rolled out of the living room after a Tiger King marathon. The grey jogging bottoms paired with the crop top and zip-up hoodie were probably too warm for today - 23 degrees, the radio kept repeating - but she made them look so effortless and stylish that Tayce suddenly wanted to buy some. Her platinum hair was piled in a messy bun, dark brown roots showing but the lackadaisical nature made it seem like Aurora meant it that way.

On her insta page, Aurora was way out of Tayce’s league; but here in life, she seemed a lot more accessible, a lot calmer, a lot more real.

Maybe it’s armour for her too. All this perfection in the photos. God. Why did I wear this?

She dropped her own deck chair down a reasonable distance from Tayce, taking another can of Fosters from the same neighbour and cracking it open. She took a swig, wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, and waved.

“Hi, Tayce. Here we are, then!”

“Yeah,” was the only thing Tayce could think of in response. Really cool. Very clever.

But Aurora was talking animatedly about how much she’d missed the sun, as she pulled a pair of sunglasses from her pocket and leaned back against the deck chair, claiming “Tesco are having them on sale - two for £12, so I got two - what else am I gonna do on furlough other than sunbathe!”

And the more the Fosters flowed - their neighbour’s 24-pack almost completely gone before 5pm, he seemingly wanting to give a can to the whole block - the more Aurora opened up her life history to Tayce.

How much she wished she was still in Worksop and could go on the long walks into the forest. How she’d give anything to hug her mum, a care-worker, and how she FaceTimed her shielding grandad every Sunday at 6.30 just after he finished his tea.

But most of all, how lonely it was every single night being alone in a flat in a huge city. Aurora dabbed her watery eyes with her thumbs as she described how much she loved everything that London had to offer when it was full of people, not dead to the world like it was now - and in this hollow place that lockdown was, she’d discovered that a city - any city, however exciting - was just a built-up area if you had no one to share it with.

Tayce hadn’t expected to cry. She’d cried maybe once or twice this whole time in lockdown, still too numb to have taken everything in that was happening. But the moment she’d opened her mouth, suddenly the Fosters had started talking for her too, and she was spilling out her worries onto the pavement below them as Aurora rubbed her back.

How her mum was furloughed from the hairdresser and her dad was always out in the lorry up and down the country. Her brother and sister-in-law, and her niece, were all still fine in Newport, but Tayce had missed her niece’s birthday, having to settle for blowing her a kiss down FaceTime and promising her through gritted teeth and cold fear that she’d give her the biggest cwtch ever as soon as this was over.

But now Tayce was in tears again, this time on Aurora’s shoulder, releasing her sorrows onto this woman who she had only exchanged written words with; now seeing her true soul laid bare in emotions that just refused to stop once she started. Aurora’s gentle hands ghosted through her hair, but then gripped Tayce tightly to her chest, planting a long, tender kiss on her hairline.

How had this happened? How had social distancing become this? Two people, thinking they were islands, clinging to one another for dear life?

Tayce held her for too long.

Aurora’s hands froze as she realised what she had done at the same moment Tayce had.

Cherry is gonna kill me.

Aurora walked with Tayce back to her flat as the sun was setting. It was nine in the evening, the heat finally starting to break, and both of them were aching and tired, spent from their tears. Aurora gave Tayce’s hand a gentle squeeze but said nothing else, her eyes red underneath her sunglasses, and Tayce had felt herself harden once again, turning the key in the door and closing the outside world back to where it should be.

——

After two weeks had passed, both of them not developing any symptoms after their contact, Tayce had an idea.

She put the letter through the letterbox in 7D at midday when she broke for lunch, and had a reply by half past one, a new record for Aurora.

‘Tayce, I’d love to form a support bubble with you. I thought you would have one already thats why i didn’t ask! Want to put on a film tonight and just chill? Bubble bud? Aurora xx’

So Tayce saw inside Aurora’s flat for the first time that same evening. After work, she practically sprinted up the stairs, thankful to get away from more of u k hun xx and her still-simpering colleagues.

It was very clean, as if it had only just been cleaned that day - freshly-washed surfaces, hoovered carpets, a sparkling bathroom - and Tayce marvelled at how tidy and orderly things were, a stark contrast from her own living space which had evolved into a nest of mess by now. Aurora’s living room and kitchen space were one area, with a mismatched sofa and chair facing the tv screen, hooking up a PS4 - Tayce hadn’t counted Aurora as a Dishonoured player either. The wall opposite the window was filled with small pictures of past fashion models - Kate Moss, Agyness Deyn, Cara Delevigne - all with matte black frames which had obviously been painted in lockdown, as one was on the coffee table drying over a copy of Hello magazine.

“My housemate’s not coming back, I can see it happening now,” Aurora shrugged, “so why not make the house the way I like it while I look for someone else to live with?”

Aurora poured Tayce a huge glass of wine, and that was followed by another; while she topped up her own glass liberally and kept shifting on the sofa as if trying to get comfortable. Tayce, for her part, took the chair instead, while Aurora tapped on the PlayStation controller to try to get Netflix up. The more she drank, the more cumbersome the controller seemed to become in her hands, until Tayce leaned over and took it away from her, Aurora’s fingers lingering a little too long on it before relinquishing.

When Aurora got up, meaning to pour them both a fourth glass of wine, she slipped on something and tumbled into Tayce’s lap in the chair, tittering something that sounded like “god I’m clumsy” through the giggles that came from her, unable to stop. Tayce slapped her on the back as she started coughing, but as that died down, Aurora straightened up, picking up Tayce’s hand in hers and drawing her up and away to join her on the sofa.

Lockdown had been so fucking lonely.

Aurora’s hand in hers was all Tayce needed to dissolve every wall she was still rebuilding from May Bank Holiday.

Aurora’s eyes were on her, she knew; through her peripheral vision as she tried desperately to cling to her focus on whatever episode of Tiger King this was.

When Tayce finally met her gaze, she averted it, turning her face to the window opposite them. Almost … playfully.

So Tayce looked back at the TV screen, but Aurora’s hand squeezed at hers, thumb in her palm pressing right in the centre, the pressure somehow travelling all the way to her gut. Tayce turned back to her, and this time Aurora did not look away.

“God, you’re gorgeous.”

Aurora looked at her through her eyelashes, lips parted in a smirk, curiously searching Tayce with her gaze as if wondering what her next move would be.

Tayce blinked incredulously. “Me? Like this? What do you mean, I’m gorgeous? Have you seen yourself?”

“And that accent, oh my days -“

“Go to Newport, we all sound like this.”

But the wine was hitting hard now and oh god lockdown is so fucking lonely and Tayce’s feet on the floor suddenly felt unsteady and Aurora was so fucking close to her on the sofa -

——

Once the hangover was gone, the memory of rest of the night felt like a dream, or maybe a nightmare. Tayce wasn’t entirely sure when she’d gone back to her flat, but she had, long before night had fully fallen and long after she was sure the burgeoning friendship she was finally making with someone lay in tatters two floors up from her.

The wine had washed away the strength she’d had, leaving her raw and vulnerable, and all the affection that had been growing since Aurora had first held her bubbled and burst into life. And Aurora must have felt the same magnetic pull, drawing them together across the sofa, nail marks still present in Tayce’s back that she could see in the mirror, a bruise forming on Tayce’s collarbone as Aurora had dipped a little lower.

It had been Tayce who had halted it - not because she hadn’t wanted to, but because she couldn’t decipher how much of this was affection and how much of this was just two lonely people, starved of company, starved of normality, seeking and clinging to it in any form.

And now it was the following day, and Tayce still didn’t know.

The group call at the end of the day was interesting. She stretched over the back of the sofa in her living room to grab her water, and that must have been enough to flash a sliver of skin.

“What’s that?” Lawrence asked loudly, prompting everyone else to go quiet. “Tayce? What’s that on your chest, hmm?”

“I didn’t see anything.”

“You’re not wearing your glasses, Ginny, you can’t see shit. What’s that on your chest? Why d’you have a bruise there?”

“Hi!” Ellie’s voice as she joined the call unexpectedly saved Tayce any further embarrassment; everyone shrieked when she came on, having missed the last two zoom calls following her move. “Thank God my internet is working now, I’ve missed all your faces!”

Tayce silently thanked Ellie’s timing and contentedly listened to the rest of them as they chatted about everything and nothing that they’d all missed. All of them were there; even Cherry showed up about twenty minutes in to wave at them and blow them kisses, her face even more pallid than before; before ducking back out to go to bed.

Only Veronica was still missing.

“She’s been messaging me,” Tia explained, “and she said she’s feeling a bit better, but since she got furloughed, she’s feeling like there’s no point getting out of bed or getting ready because there’s nowhere to go.”

“Send her some love,” Tayce said, but Tia snorted.

“You send her it! She’s gonna feel better if she knows we all miss her.”

It was true though, Tayce realised after they all disconnected. They all seemed to be drifting apart, no more energy to continue with these online gatherings, even though there were so many virtual meetup groups and apps that there almost seemed to be no excuse now.

She looked back through her phone messages. She hadn’t messaged Veronica since early April, taking her silence as a sign that she wanted to be left alone; but what if it wasn’t? Veronica was a closed fist, everyone knew that. And Tayce’s brother? Again, early April, and a quick call the week after for her niece’s birthday.

Lockdown, and self-isolation, seemed to be one and the same.

So Tayce spent the rest of the afternoon sending messages to everyone she had neglected since then. Maybe they would reply, and maybe they wouldn’t - but there was no harm in reaching out, no negative consequences.

By the end of the day, she was fielding messages back and forth from everyone she thought she’d lost through lockdown, the grey cloud over her head starting to lift, the fuzzy feeling disappearing and clarity settling in. She felt light, lighter than she had in weeks; and warm as the summery days they were getting in this late-May spring.

Towards the end of the day, she got a message back from Veronica at last.

Veronica: I’m doing ok. I got up and went for a walk today just to the park and back. It’s really nice although my hay fever sucks. Thanks for checking in on me i appreciate it x Veronica: Oh also Tia said you had a hickey on the group call haha tell me what her name is x

Tayce was surprised to realise she was grinning at the phone as she read Veronica’s message, her fingers stroking the mark on her collarbone as if to savour the vivid image that it sparked in her head.

——

It was three days after their drunken kiss on the sofa that Tayce had another letter through the door. The same red glittery pen, the same scrawl, but the writing a little smaller as if Aurora wanted to diminish herself.

‘Hi Tayce. I’m really sorry if i came on too strong this week. Can we go back to friends? Want to hang out tonight, bubble bud? Aurora xx’

Tayce swallowed down the part of her that immediately rose up and cried that she … didn’t want to just be friends.

Then it hit her.

God. I only met this girl properly this month. What’s wrong with me?

But she replied and immediately started clearing the house.

She put the pile of Viv’s birthday cards and presents from the hallway floor into a cupboard under the sink, giving it the middle finger again; put the six-weeks worth of laundry on to wash; cleaned all the dishes; and dragged the hoover out of the tiny airing cupboard and got to work on the carpets. The hard floors she swept, and carried the bin bags out to the communal bins, all before midday.

“Who needs Joe Wicks workouts?” She muttered to herself, panting, as she tugged some marigolds over her hands to sort out the rest of the kitchen.

By the time it was six, and time for Aurora to arrive, Tayce thought the house looked much better, and honestly, she felt much better too. The little spring clean she’d given the place had cleared a little clutter from her head as well.

It’s nothing to worry about. She’d just coming over for food and -

Tayce grimaced as she realised she hadn’t thought of what to do for food. She thought back to the beans on toast she’d had at four and kicked herself for not thinking of that. Dominos was still delivering, so she brought up the app and busied herself looking through the list of pizzas.

Aurora hadn’t arrived by ten past six, and Tayce started to worry.

Maybe she’s changed her mind.

But Tayce refused to let that thought take any root. She looked at the clock, which of course seemed to slow down from having eyes on it, and firmly told herself that she would message Aurora at quarter past if she wasn’t here before.

With a minute to spare, Aurora turned up, grinning merrily and waving the bottle of rose in Tayce’s face.

“Hey bubble bud! Sorry I’m late, well I’m always late, sorry in advance if you expect me on time for anything!” Aurora took a step inside and her jaw dropped. “Wow, your place is well nice!”

“Thanks,” Tayce grinned, although she wasn’t sure what Aurora was looking at. Tayce wasn’t allowed anything on the walls from what her landlord said, but Aurora wouldn’t stay still - checking out the titles of the handful of CDs Tayce had brought down to London with her; scanning a nail along the books on the shelf above the TV.

“It’s nice to hold a book sometimes,” Tayce shrugged, “rather than just read it on the kindle app.”

When Aurora got to the kitchen, Tayce cringed. She’d have to confess.

“I haven’t got in anything to eat. Only - only some bread.”

“And pot noodles,” Aurora added, opening a cupboard and helping herself to the contents as if she’d lived here her whole life.

“And pot - oh, are you thinking, maybe …”

“No way!” Aurora slammed the cupboard door and grabbed her keys again. “Be right back!”

Ten minutes later and Tayce was at the hob over the oven with Aurora, dicing onions while she cut up a red pepper, mince that Aurora had grabbed from her own fridge was out and ready to go in too.

“I needed to use that up anyway,” she shrugged. “Please tell me you don’t just eat bread and pot noodles, Tayce, please. I need to give you a cooking crash course if you do! Didn’t you learn to cook at uni? Or didn’t you do much cooking before you went? Oh my days - no fry the onion off first, with the garlic - I’ll chop the mushrooms, Jesus Christ pot noodles …”

“I know how to cook, give me some credit!” Tayce murmured, but she couldn’t stop smiling. “I just haven’t been to the shop yet, it’s been a long week.”

Aurora closed her eyes and hummed in appreciation. “Just keep talking to me, please.”

“What about?”

“Anything! Your life, your family - I don’t know, house prices, I don’t care - but that accent, ugh -“ Aurora shivered.

“Yours is cute, too,” Tayce smirked.

Aurora looked at her reproachfully. “You’re lying.”

“Yeah, I am.”

It was no use. The air was full of electricity, static around them, and before Tayce knew what was happening, suddenly they were kissing again, this time stone-cold sober, while the onions burned shadows into the bottom of the pan.

——

Viv gave her notice on the flat at the start of June.

“I just can’t afford to live here anymore,” she explained, sighing, when she got back and started to pack up everything in her room. “I’m gonna see if I can get some work back home.”

Tayce was numb, although she knew Viv didn’t mean it personally. It wasn’t her fault that she’d been made redundant straight after the lockdown ended, and it made sense that she wanted to be near her family. It was now four months since Tayce had seen hers, and she missed them every day, although she had been sticking religiously to her new routine of calling her parents every Saturday night and her brother’s family every Sunday afternoon.

“I’m sorry that’s putting you in a tight spot, Tayce,” Viv muttered, hugging her, and Tayce hugged her back.

“Can’t be helped,” Tayce replied, which was all she could think to respond with that wasn’t an inarticulate growl in frustration.

Viv was adamant she would pay her final month’s rent, and pay her half the utilities even though she wasn’t there. But she had to go home.

“How was your move?” Tayce asked Ellie on the next group call on zoom.

“Shite,” Ellie replied, “but partly because we struggled finding someone to move us. There’s plenty of places around, plenty of places to rent and stuff, because everyone’s moved back to where they came from.”

“You’ll find somewhere else to live, bab,” Ginny murmured in a soothing voice to Tayce, stroking the side of the laptop screen as she liked to do to show affection now that she couldn’t hug anyone.

“I know,” Tayce sighed. “It’s just a pain in the arse.”

She wasted no time. One of the spare room websites was always open in the background, and she was refreshing, looking maybe a little further out from central London to see if anywhere was cheaper, but nowhere was.

Then she spotted the dot in her own block of flats, and clicked the advert.

That’s - that’s Aurora’s flat.

Now she remembered. Aurora had mentioned something about her housemate moving out! It must now be official.

She read through the advert - how was it £50 cheaper than what she was already paying? - and looked at the contact name for the housemate, and there it was in black and white pixels: Aurora Martin, use form below.

Grabbing a piece of notebook paper - one of the last bits left, she’d been ripping them all out to write to Aurora - she penned a letter, one of what might well be the last ones, and jogged upstairs to post it through her letterbox.

The response came back to her in less than an hour, a new record for Aurora.

‘Tayce! I’d love it if you wanted to move in here! OMG. My landlord will want references from yours, but if you can get them quick then he can approve you really fast, he’s working from home. OMG you made my day. Come up at 7pm xx’

“Work contacted me today too,” Aurora beamed as she settled with Tayce on the sofa. “They want me to start back next week! Can’t wait. Need to get that coin again now! I mean, I’m dead grateful, you know, that I still have my job and I was on furlough so the government paid most of my wages, but it will be nice to have the full package again!”

“What is it you do again?” Tayce asked.

“Oh - I work as a fashion buyer. But because fashion’s kind of stopped right now, most of the designers are shut. Reopening now, especially the ones in mainland Europe! Can’t wait to be on the phone to them all again.”

“Wait. You speak to designers in other countries?”

Aurora nodded. “I speak French and Spanish.”

“You -“ Tayce was dazed. “I didn’t know that!”

“Well why would you? I mean you’ve only known me a couple of months!” Aurora laughed, and leaned back closer to Tayce, her perfume overwhelmingly sweet in the air. “You’re not gonna know everything about me yet, bubble bud.”

“No,” Tayce purred, “but I can’t wait to find out.”

——

By the Monday after the move, early July, Tayce was all set up to go. She’d moved the bed into the corner as she liked it, arranged her books into a rainbow as she liked them, and unfurled the posters she’d been unable to hang in her last flat, mostly punk bands that she liked, Bimini’s band’s poster, and the noticeboard with all the tickets tacked to it of all the gigs she’d been to. The vanity with the mirror that she’d brought from home fitted perfectly next to the window so she could do her makeup with natural light; and it was large enough for her work setup, which was where she was now.

The flat layout was almost identical to the one she’d just left, and the room was the same one - Aurora having the slightly bigger room - but it felt a lot more comforting, knowing she wasn’t alone here any more, knowing she had a little more freedom in decorations, and knowing that the hollow feeling in her chest was starting to slow down for good.

She turned off her work laptop at five as normal, which was when Aurora came in. Tayce pulled her in, giving her a peck on the lips.

“They’re gonna love you, I promise.”

Aurora just made a moan in the back of her throat and put her face in her hands, shrinking away from the vanity.

Tayce turned on her personal laptop, logging into zoom and connecting to the group chat. Her monthly uni call was set to half four today for some reason, and everyone else was already all there.

“Tayce! We wondered where you’d got to!”

It was Veronica’s voice, and Veronica’s face was in the top left. She still looked a little tired, and the shirt she was wearing looked suspiciously like a pyjama top, but she was here with them all, and this was a big step for her.

Tayce beamed at her. “So good to see you!”

“The move went alright then, bab?” Ginny asked.

Tayce nodded. “And there’s someone you should meet.” She pulled Aurora into frame, who still looked uncharacteristically shy for a moment before waving at the people on the screen. “This is Aurora.”

“Aurora!” Tia squeaked. “Like the princess!”

Aurora rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

“So we’ve got Rory and Ronni here together at last!” Lawrence exclaimed, while Veronica gave the camera two fingers.

But Tayce just grinned at her friends on the screen, far apart but together in this strange way. Aurora’s nails dug into her shoulder, still a little nervous, but even that was fading as she got more comfortable.

Aurora had been right - the city was just a lot of bricks in intricate patterns without someone in it that made it a home.

And this just might be becoming one.

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #tayce #a'whora #taywhora #ginny lemon #lawrence chaney #veronica green #tia kofi #ellie diamond #uk2 #lesbian au #fluff #hurt/comfort #juno #tw covid lockdown #tw mental health mentions #submission

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